#Reblog with the creep you find online

[paradoxsun]

Only on Instagram will this be considered appropriate.

I believe in naming and shaming

[babypuffinzoe]

.

[miodiodavinci]

you know i'm thinking about it again and i'm wondering if i ought to eventually private my main twitter and turn it into an archive purely because i've had that since 2015 and only opened my actual private in like. 2017 so there is All Sorts of dumb personal vent things in the depths of it that i'd rather not have scrolled through by anyone professional with the determination to do so skfdjhglkj

[ts19009]

Seventeen Fic Rec's

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: December 4th, 2023)

OT13

In Pursuit of Wedded Bliss (Updated Masterlist) (A Seventeen Regency!AU Series) @fantasyescapes17

seventeen fic recommendations

Kim Mingyu

In Soft Hands | Part 2 (Mingyu) @beahae (SingleDad!Mingyu x DaycareTeacher!Reader(f))

what’s your number?; kmg @nevernonline (synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen. paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.)

again and again ⟢(exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut) @lovelyhan

creep (Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…) @smileysuh

Aphrodite (smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning) @highvern

Covert Desires (spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing) @etherealyoungk

Slowly; All At Once (fluff, best friends to lovers with Mingyu, boyfriend material!Mingyu, slight angst.) @gyuwoncheol

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1) (brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut) @gyuswhore

His Smile(smut, fluff, slowburn, fake dating!au) @angelwonie

Parties, Yachts and Wishful Thinking (enemies to lovers, reader and Mingyu are rich, Mingyu is kind of an asshole but so is reader, parties, mentions of reader crushing on Wonwoo, drinking, cursing, tennis, yachts and pure filth) @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Other Mingyu recs @novalpha

we don’t usually hold hands (m) || kmg & reader (angst, fluff, smut, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, sort-of-mean!oc, nice guy!mingyu, emotionally constipated!oc honestly) @gyukult

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au) @shuaflix

the very first night. (exes to lovers, roommates!au | romance, angst, smut) Link works on pc and through my reblog i think

OVER MY HEAD (brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.) @hannieehaee

it’s all fun and games (mingyu x female reader ) @dontflailmenow

Hong Joshua (Jisoo)

Loverboy (regency era romance, historical, drama, slow burn, angst.) @starlightxsvt

cranberry concoctions (bartender!joshua x f!reader) @onlyhuis

Mr (not) so perfectly fine (Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst) @hwanghyunjinenthusiast

the devil wears baby blue (mut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol) @onlyseokmins

Virgin Killer (cheerleader!reader, nerd!shua, virgin!shua, he’s kinda cold in this but is lowkey still a soft boi, drinking, teasing, jealousy, reader has a little bit of a corruption kink, loss of virginity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation) @wonusite

isohel (all time joshua fav) (slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff) @toruro

mr. nice guy (, neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as alway) @toruro

eyes meeting, hearts apart ⟢ (; bartender!reader, requited unrequited love, immense pining, angst, flowers, slow burn, smut (MINORS DNI)) @lovelyhan

Jeon Wonwoo

Jeon’s Anatomy - Cast (surgeon au) @hansols-yoda-boxers

Blown up love (gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.) @starsstuddedsky

I found love in your smile (doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc) @wonlouvre

wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 ! @jeonride

meet cute of the century (meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut) @lovelyhan

Licentious (babysitter au, cheating au, smut) @wonusite

to build a home (idol!husband! jeon wonwoo x actress!afab!reader) @tomodachiii

X + Y = YOU AND I ||( jeon wonwoo academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader) @angelwonie

yoon jeonghan

just one day (fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.) @wonwoonlightligh

to live again (ime travel!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, slow burn, angst, some fluff, some humor) @viastro I WAS CRYING PLS READ

Pathetic Series @leejihoonownsmyhearthoonownsmyheart

Jeonghan’s Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling in Love) (fluff, angst, non-idol au, elementary school teacher!jeonghan, f2L, fake relationship) @starsstuddedsky

xu minghao

✧ the letter (slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l) @toruro

✧ flight of the stars (mut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff) @toruro

✧ oh my! @toruro

fixer upper (s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate),) @seungkwansphd

Glacial Pace (fake dating au, friends to lovers, fluff, smut) @wonusite

To Keep You Warm @idyllic-ghost

Kwon Soon-young

My Best Friend's Mother (is the One For Me) — ksy (milf chaser!soonyoung, milf!reader) @rubyreduji

driving lessons for dummies (fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au) @shuaflix FAV ATM XD

be sweet (prince!hoshi x princess!reader) @heartkyeom

charity f*ck (virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex) @ncteez

[vivvangel]

angel baby | lee heeseung.

synopsis: finding his girl angelic isn't a crime ! after seeing you in the prettiest lingerie you own, heeseung gets riled up ... fast. › pairings & contents: bf!heeseung x fem!reader ✧ warnings: lingeries, use of nicknames (baby, angel, beautiful girl) ━━━━━━ PART 1 - PART 2

you (and let's be honest, your longterm boyfriend, heeseung) absolutely love lingeries. who can blame you? they're sexy AND cute — and mostly comfy. you were trying on a new cherry colored lingerie you recently bought online on a whim -- you couldn't resist after seeing it of course.

checking yourself out in the mirror, and taking a mirror selfie — you wondered if heeseung would like this set. you admire yourself in the mirror, when you hear a small "fuck" whisper and you head perks up to where the noise was — heeseung, leaning against the doorframe.

"don't mind me baby, just enjoying the view" heeseung said, with a smug look on his face, walking towards you.

"you look... breathtaking, angel" he breathed out, his hands urging to rip it off your body and have you right there, but no! "self control heeseung, self control!" he told himself as he went up to you. you smiled at him before looking back at the mirror. "it's so pretty, right? i'm glad you like it" you giggle. heeseung doesn't say anything as he hugs you from behind, whispering in your ear -- "my beautiful girl", and his tone makes you chuckle. "thank you hee". a few minutes of silence later —

"can i touch you, baby?" heeseung blurts out — immediately regretting what he said as your eyes widen. "what—?" you tilt your head in confusion but a devious smirk creeps itself onto your lips as you turn around. "no, baby -- i mean—" heeseung tries forming a coherent sentence, but he's too mesmerized by your semi-exposed chest to do so. "you know hee, i can see you staring at my tits?" you let out a chuckle. his hands roam around your body, cupping one of your breaths and squeezing them, making you let out a whimper.

"is it okay if i keep going, baby?" heeseung asks softly, a small smirk on his lips as you nod rather eagerly.

viv's note: reblogs are appreciated 🩷

[katareyoudrilling]

Audience of One (Dave York one-shot)

Pairing: Bodyguard Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: When online comments threaten your safety, you reluctantly agree to hire a bodyguard

Word count: ~3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: a bit of danger, masturbation, unprotected PIV (please use protection IRL), a hickey (sort of)

A/N: This is my entry for @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope challenge! I got famous person AU and twisted it to fit my very niche tastes lol.  It has been quite a while since I posted something, thanks for hanging in there with me.  I really hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to @burntheedges for the beta 😘

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or let me know!

“I really think you’re overreacting.”  You finish cleaning off your instrument and securing it in your case.

“I’m not and it’s not open to discussion.” 

You sigh.  “I’m a concert violinist, not a movie star.  No one is out to ‘get me’ or whatever.  This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” your manager forces you to meet her gaze.  “There have been emails, social media posts… I know you don’t want to believe it, but there are creeps out there focused on you.  I need you to be safe.”

She’s looking at you with so much care and concern that the fight leaves your body.  “Fine.  Send him in.”

“Thank you.”  She turns to open the door to the dressing room and gestures to someone in the hallway.  You gather the rest of your things into your bag and prepare to head to your hotel.

Your manager steps back into the room trailed by a tall, broad, dark-haired, incredibly attractive man in an overcoat.

“Meet Dave York, your bodyguard.”

. . . . . . . . . .

“I’m really sorry about this,” you apologize for the tenth time since getting into the back of the town car with your new bodyguard in tow. “All this fuss is unnecessary.”

Dave regards you across the darkened backseat.  “Your manager doesn’t think so and neither do I.  The sooner you accept my help, the better this will go.”

You lose your train of thought as the streetlights sweep across his gorgeous features.  His pouty lips… his aquiline nose… his strong jaw… his dark eyes… each feature takes its turn in the lamplight.  It’s probably for the best, taking him in all at once might actually kill you.  No one has the right to be this handsome.

You shake yourself out of your reverie and find Dave watching you closely.  You look away quickly, shifting your focus out your window.  You cross your legs, and the slit of your dress opens, revealing your legs up to mid-thigh.  You quickly adjust the skirt to cover yourself and tell yourself that you’re imagining Dave’s eyes flickering away.

You clear your throat, “Right, umm… how is this going to go, exactly?”

“I’ll be with you during the day.  When you return to your hotel room at night, I’ll hand off responsibility to my security team.  There will be extra security at your concerts and events as well.”

“That doesn’t sound too intrusive.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I hope you like classical music.”

“We’ll find out.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

And that’s how it goes.  Dave meets you outside your door when you’re ready to leave in the morning and accompanies you on each step of your schedule.  He tags along to masterclasses, rehearsals, concerts, and your own practice sessions.  Ushering you in and out of town cars and back exits.

You share brief conversations in the car.  His dry, sarcastic wit comes out little by little as you spend time with him.  He often makes you laugh and you thrill when his pouty lips tilt at the edges into a wry smirk at something you said.

He leaves you at your hotel room door in each city at the end of the day, waiting until you close the door to call his security team.

You don’t lean against the door and wonder where he goes after he’s with you.  That would be inappropriate.

You don’t replay the events of the day, the glances, the almost touches, that assuredly exist only in your own imagination.

You don’t catalog the little things you’ve learned about him.  Single.  No kids.  Ex-military.  Coffee, black.  Unexpected crinkles around the eyes when he smiles.

You don’t seek him out in the concert halls, looking for a sign that he enjoys the music you’re making, always finding him watching you intently from backstage, still and focused.

You don’t find yourself pulling out your favorite toy to relieve some tension more and more frequently as the days spent in his company add up.

Definitely not.

. . . . . . . . . .

“You played something different tonight.” Dave’s deep voice breaks the silence of the car. 

You hum your assent, “Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy.  It’s a real crowd pleaser.”

“I didn’t know a violin could do that.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the soloist gets to show off in that one.”

“You like to show off, don’t you?”

The energy in the car shifts in an instant.  Dave’s dark eyes are even darker than usual as he regards you across the cab.  The question hangs heavy in the air.  

“You have to like to show off to do my job,” you explain a bit breathlessly.  You meet his dark gaze, and he hums in approval.  “Do you like to show off, Dave?”

He drags his thumb across his lower lip, your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“No, I don’t like to show off.  I like to watch.”

His words hit you like an electrical current, zinging across your skin, breaking you out into full body goose bumps.

You hold each other’s gaze in the dark, your breath coming in increasingly erratic pants.  He doesn’t look away.  Neither do you.

You cross your legs and allow your skirt to fall open up your legs, just like the first night you were in the car with him.  This time, the dress has an even higher slit—you save this particular gown for when you perform the Carmen, you enjoy playing into the persona.  This time, you don’t cover up.

You watch as his gaze flickers to your bare legs, exposed practically all the way to your underwear, the tip of his tongue sneaks out to wet his plush lips.

He drags his eyes back up to yours.  The air is thick with possibility.  A line has definitely been crossed.  Words begin to bubble up from your gut when the car pulls to a stop in front of the hotel.

The moment pops like a balloon.

Dave opens his door and swings up and out of the car.  In a haze, you open your door and step out into the night.

The next moments go by in a flash.

You hear someone shout your name, Dave yells, you’re shoved against the car, unfamiliar hands grab your shoulders and whisk you into the hotel lobby and into the elevator.  The doors close before you can understand the commotion happening outside the hotel.

You’re flanked by security guards you’ve seen around after hours.  The words “assailant” “custody” “weapon” permeate the buzzing in your brain.  Questions form and dissipate in the tangle of your thoughts before you can get them out.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you are bodily moved into your hotel room.  Before they can close the door, you finally manage to ask what’s going on only to be met with vague instructions to stay in your room and wait.

You pace the floor and look out your window, hoping for a glimpse of what might be happening on the street below, but you’re on the wrong side of the building.  It doesn’t hold any answers for you.

Your hands reach for your phone only to realize it’s still in your bag in the car, along with your instrument case.

The car.

Your mind returns to that moment right before you pulled up to the hotel.  So ripe with promise and possibility.

Then you had gotten out of the car.

Oh shit.

You got out of the car yourself.  You opened your door yourself.  You weren’t supposed to do that. Dave opens your door.  Dave ushers you out of the car.

It’s all your fault.

Just as your thoughts threaten to spiral, there’s a firm knock on your door.

“It’s me.  Everything is ok. Open the door.” You hear Dave through the door.  You rush over and check the peephole like he told you to.  At least you can say you remembered to do that.  You confirm it’s him and open the door.

“Dave, I—”

He crashes into you, pressing you against the wall with the length of his body before claiming your mouth with a rough, desperate kiss.  His hands grip your chin, your shoulders, your hip as he devours your mouth.

Your hands scrabble against his chest, finding the lapels of his coat to hang on.

Just as suddenly as you found yourself kissing Dave, you aren’t.  He pulls back abruptly leaving you cold and breathless.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t ha—”

You pull him back to you by his coat, drawing his mouth back to yours.  You lick into his mouth, moaning as he responds.

This kiss is less frantic, but still full of need.  Your tongues tangle together, tasting and testing.

Dave eventually breaks away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok, but what happened?”

“A man came running toward you, the police have him now.  I’m sure it’s the person making those creepy comments about you online.”

“I got out of the car by myself, Dave, I’m so sorry, I know I’m n—”

“Shh,” he hushes you.  “It’s ok.  You’re ok.”

He presses his lips to yours, swallowing your protests, until you melt into him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He drags his lips down your throat, across your collarbones and shoulders.  He licks back up the side of your neck.

You gasp as he drags his tongue over the sensitive spot on your neck.

“I noticed this mark the night I first met you,” he murmurs into your skin. “I was so jealous of whoever got to do that to you.  I kept waiting to find out who it was, to see if they were worthy of marking your skin, but there has been no one and the mark has stayed.”  You sense the unasked question.

“My… it’s… a violin hickey,” you pant as he drags his nose up the column of your throat and along your jaw. “Where my violin rubs against my neck when I play.”  He chuckles.

“Should I be jealous of your violin?”

“Probably.”

He hums against you.  “Fair enough.”

He steps back to the hotel room door and for a moment your heart drops thinking that he might be leaving, but he only opens the door to pull your bag and violin case into the room.  You hear him conversing with a guard outside before he closes the door, locking the deadbolt before turning back to you.

He shrugs off his overcoat and suit jacket.  He loosens the knot of his tie and begins to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves.  You watch the movement of his fingers with rapt attention.

“So, Miss Show off. Do you want to show off for me?”  His eyes flash dangerous and dark and a thrill runs up your spine.

Adrenaline tingles in your fingertips as you find the zipper of your dress and pull it down your side.

You lock eyes with Dave as you let your gown fall to the floor, a puddle at your feet.  You are left standing in only your panties and high heels.

Dave drinks you in, caressing your curves with his warm gaze.  Your nipples harden under his perusal and wetness pools between your legs.  It’s all you can do to not rub your thighs together.

“Get on the bed.” He commands, his voice deep and rasping with need.  His shirtsleeves are rolled up now, exposing the tendons and veins in his forearms.  His hands fist at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to touch you.  But you’ve learned this about Dave, he is always in control of himself.

You walk over to the bed, turning your back to him and adding an extra sway to your hips.  You catch his strangled moan at the sight of your round ass framed by the string of your thong.  You turn to sit at the end of the bed with a satisfied smirk.  Dave stands at arm’s length from you, pinning you with his dark eyes.

“Show me.  Let me see if those fingers can play your pussy as well as they play your violin.”

You gasp at his filthy words and your center clenches with need.  Keeping your eyes on him once again, you drag your panties down your legs and off, kicking off your shoes as you do, and scoot a bit farther onto the bed.

You lean back into the plush bedding, resting on one elbow, knees bent, and spread your legs for Dave.

He drinks you in hungrily as you part yourself for him, dipping your fingers into your wetness.

Your mouth falls open as you circle your clit, a moan escaping your chest.  You fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch Dave watch you.  You really do like to show off and he is an eager audience.

You quicken your pace, hitting the rhythm you like best, and find yourself careening towards your peak.  Your hips buck on the bed, and you whine that you’re close.

“Show me,” Dave commands one last time before you fall over the edge, pulsing and shivering through your release.

 “Do I get a standing ovation?” you ask, breathless, once you’ve come back to yourself. 

“You tell me.”

You crack one eye open and find that he’s standing at the end of the bed naked.  His cock juts proudly away from his hips at full attention.

“My favorite kind.” You lick your lips as you sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed.  You look up at him as you take the tip of his cock between your lips, sliding down the hard length of him.  You watch his stomach flex with effort as he resists fucking into your mouth.

It makes you want to make him lose control.  He’s always alert and watching.  Even in the car on the way to the hotel tonight, he kept his cool as you tempted him.  Bursting into your room to kiss you is the only time you’ve seen him not in complete control of himself.

You tongue and suck and moan around him, losing yourself in the rhythm.  Dave drags his fingers down your cheek and throat.  

“Look at you, fuck.” He cups your breasts, swaying heavily between your arms, and pinches your nipples.  “I want to watch these tits bounce while I fuck you.”

You whimper around his length, arousal practically dripping down your legs.  He pulls out of your mouth, diving down to kiss you deeply and press you backwards onto the bed.

He arranges himself against the headboard and drags you on top of him.  “Ride me, baby,” he commands.  You eagerly comply, lining his weeping cock up with your entrance.

Your eyes roll back in your head as you sink down onto him, the stretch is so delicious with every inch you take.  When you bottom out, you open your eyes to find Dave breathing hard, the tendons of his neck taut with effort.

You rise and sink back down slowly, angling yourself backwards so he can see his cock disappear into your wet heat.  He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you, giving you friction that makes you shudder with each roll of your hips.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, eyes locked on your greedy pussy, swallowing him whole.  You feel yourself start to flutter around him, the intensity of his eyes on you drives your arousal higher and higher.  Being watched with so much desire gives you such a thrill that your orgasm threatens to take you far too soon.

You slow and lean forward, placing a hand on the headboard over Dave’s head.  Your breasts wobble in front of his face and he quickly takes one nipple into his mouth.  You arch your back into him as he sucks and tugs, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

He holds your hips still with one hand as he feasts on you, bringing his other to cup and pinch your tender flesh.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry as the pressure builds in your core.  Your hips grind into him, seeking relief as he relentlessly toys with you.

He allows you to move, to chase your high, riding his cock with abandon as he looks up at you with lust blown eyes.  You tilt your hips, and he finds your clit once again.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he praises you as you near your peak.  “Come on my cock, baby.  I want to feel you.”

You come with a gasp, rising up on your knees as your pussy clenches then collapsing back down with shuddering pulses.  Dave caresses your back before rolling you over and gently pulling out.  He kneels between your legs, stroking his length, as you lie boneless and hazy.

“That was so fucking hot, baby.” His jaw clenches as he strokes himself faster and faster.  “I fucking love to watch you.  Watch you play your violin… watch you touch yourself… watch you fuck…”

“It’s my turn, Dave,” you interrupt.  “I want to watch you come.  Come all over me.” You prop yourself up on your elbows and smirk at the way a shudder moves through his body.  He lets go with a groan, ropes of cum painting your tummy and chest.

You both collapse, satisfied.  Dave cleans you up, taking extra care with your breasts.  You smirk as he chases the warm cloth with his even warmer mouth.

“What happens now?” you ask later, when you’re twined together on the bed. “If that was the guy…”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me and even after you don’t,” Dave presses a kiss to the top of your head.  You snuggle into his side, relaxing in the knowledge that you are safe and thrilled with the prospect of showing off again for your audience of one.

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

A/N: I don't have, and never have had, a violin hickey. I probably don't practice enough lol. But they are often seen as a point of pride among violinists.

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist - in reblog

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 12

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“You’re a fucking natural critter. Must be the smell of grass,” Hansen scoffs as he checks the card. “Looks like I didn’t even need the handicap.” 

Your boss’ coolness is worse than his anger. His indifference to his assault not hours earlier has you even more humiliated. He cares so little, or maybe he enjoys that you can barely look at him. Each time you do, you feel the cut of his cleats in your chest. The evidence of his attack is still visible at the top of your shirt. 

“Sir,” you say. “Did you win?” 

He folds the card and sucks his teeth, “doesn’t matter. We had fun, didn’t we?” 

You stare at his mocking grin. You nod, “yes, Mr. Hansen.” The moment those words leave your mouth, you shudder. Your chest tightens. Why does he hate you so much? 

“Back to work,” he says as he approaches the cart.  

You follow him and get in the other side. He lingers behind the wheel, making no move to steer away from the last hole. The unstraps his glove, then the other, and peels them off. He stretches his fingers wide and flips his hands to examine his palm. 

He slaps one hand down on your thigh and another on the steering wheel. You yelp and he digs his nails in. You squirm but don’t push him away. Resisting only seems to goad him on. 

As he drives, his fingers curl, caressing your tender skin, and his hand creeps higher and higher. Despite yourself, you can’t help but tense and squeeze your thighs tight. He pinches the edge of your skirt and hums. 

“I want this much leg in the office from now on. New rule, sweetheart, and look at you,” he taps your legs as he rescinds his hand. “You love following the rules, don’t you?” 

Your mouth is dry, “yes, Mr. Hansen.” 

Every time you say it, it hurts. 

You just stare off across the green, into the yellow horizon, streaked with lazy clouds. The cart drones on and finally stops. You look up at the white facade of the club as Mr. Hansen gets out. You climb out your side as he hauls his bag and tosses the keys at a young man in the club’s colours. You follow your boss away, trying to hide in plain sight. 

You’re kept from receding into yourself as he hands you the keys again. You drive, following the GPS’ directions as he closes his eyes and yawns in the passenger seat. As you roll into the office lot, you glance over at him. He looks so peaceful even as your insides are at battle. 

You get out and check the back seat. That’s where he put your clothes but they aren’t there. As he comes around, you hand him the keys. 

“Mr. Hansen, my clothes?” You ask. 

“Trash. Had them thrown out at the club. You don’t need them.” 

“What?” You gulp. “But I can’t work in this--” 

“You can’t? Pretty sure I’m your fucking boss.” 

You seal your lips and nod. “Sorry, sir, you’re right.” 

“Now,” he reaches to play with the collar of your shirt, the edges tattered from his cleats. “I would send you off to get my coffee but I’d be just as good asking you to spit in my mouth. Kinky but not right now.” He smirks, “so you go and get to work, critter. Just like you always do.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He lets you go and nudges your chin condescendingly with his chin, “and big boss man needs to go talk business with Bodecker. Hold my calls.” 

“Yes... Mr. Hansen,” you agree grimly. 

He struts off and you follow a few paces back. The elevator ride is awkward as he forgets you for his phone but you’re grateful to be an afterthought. When you get off, he goes one way and you go the other. Before you reach your desk, you dip into the washroom. 

You pull up the shirt to examine your chest. Small cuts mark your skin, some still speckled in dry blood, others raw. You wet a paper towel and clean away some of the mess. It stings. You do what you can and put the shirt on again. 

You stare at yourself. You look ridiculous. Wearing that getup in the office. At all. You wouldn’t dress like this ever. You nearly crumple in defeat. What have you become? Just this pathetic little... critter. 

You go to your desk and take the cardigan off the back of your chair. You’re grateful for your own forgetfulness as you hug the wool around you. 

You unlock your computer and open the email up. You read and reread it before you reply. You confirm a time for tomorrow, during what should be your lunch. You will be certain to take it. 

Mr. Hansen can threaten you, he can hurt you, but he can’t stop you from trying. When he’s no longer your boss, you won’t have to worry about any of it. That’s all he is. He doesn’t control your life outside this office, you won’t let him. 

And if this doesn’t work out, you’ll look somewhere else. You have to. You can’t keep doing this. One day, you’re going to wake up and that weight in your chest is going to keep you in bed. You won’t let that happen. Not because of Mr. Hansen. 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

lk its not the usual advice you give but you do generally give advice and off that thread you reblogged earlier about like joining your local community could you answer, or know of somewhere that would have the answers on how to actually do the suggested actions like.

If you can identify local specific interest groups then how do you make contact with them properly so you dont come off like a creep or a tourist? How does going to clubs or gigs or just like shops result in one becoming part of a community or making friends through that? What do you even say to your neighbors to not seem like a creep when you may have nothing in common other than living nearby?

Theres endless advicde online that basically just says Get Out There!! but doesnt go through the process of making it work properly which is the actually hard part. Again I understand if yourr not going to answer the questions personally but just if you know somewhere else to ask or find things

okay so once again

find groups activities and events that are advertising publicly. groups that are advertising publicly are doing so because they want people to attend. you will not seem creepy for attending a thing that people want you to attend.

when you get there, you talk to people. about anything. the activity you are both mutually taking part in is a good starting point. again, that's not creepy.

you talk to your neighbors about anything you want. topics of neighbors I have shared with my neighbors include complimenting their pets, comparing notes on our yards, remarking on their Halloween decorations, and speculating about the house across the street where seeming 900 college students live together and do bad skateboard tricks.

I know it sounds scary or whatever but like. the way you become part of a community is by talking to people and taking an interest in their lives to get to know them.

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 06

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 4.8k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ none, really. just a few suggestive memories and oc having a crisis 👀 a/n⇢ and now, my dear friends, we finally make it to the epilogue! 🥹 thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic over the years, and i'm extra grateful to everyone who has dropped in my inbox at any point to scream their feelings about it to me--as well as everyone who has enjoyed it enough to reblog and share! 💜💜 you guys are the ones who really keep me coming back to share my writing on this hellsite, and i truly, truly appreciate you for helping keep fandom fun and alive. i hope you've enjoyed this ride as much as i have enjoyed taking you on it! 🥰😈 mood for this chapter is this song~ thanks again, everyone! 💜

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

Just as they were scheduled to, your employers jetted off overseas, leaving you to your own devices for the next three weeks. You weren’t going to lie—it felt bizarre for your calendar to be so open after months of near bursting due to constant activity. But honestly? It was truly refreshing to suddenly have so much downtime. And after your last Kim encounter, you definitely felt your break was well-deserved.   

So, you used the sudden breathing room to catch up on other parts of your life that had been suffering. The next few days were spent burrowed beneath the covers and gloriously unconscious, your truly exhausted body ensuring sleep to be your first priority. Initiating the wildest sexual encounter you had ever had—and probably would ever have—on a Thursday meant that you luckily only had to miss one lecture, and you happily did so, knowing the slides would be online for you to look over later. And though you weren’t asleep the entire weekend, even when you were awake, you didn’t part with the comfort of your bed for long—eating takeout in it and watching true crime documentaries in it and actively ignoring the way your skin tingled when your mind strayed to the other activities you had done in it not too long prior. 

(And if you were being honest, it was a little hard to not linger on what you had done. On what you so easily allowed the Kims to do.) 

When you did allow yourself to linger on it, it almost felt like a fever dream. Some abstract, depraved fantasy that your overactive mind had cooked up. But the ache in your muscles, the tenderness of your pussy—these were tangible proof that it had all been real. That the flashes of hot tongues and gasping breaths and shivering pleasure that kept creeping back, no matter how you tried to distract yourself, were memories, not figments of your imagination. You knew you should probably feel some sort of shame over it, but honestly? Other than astonishment that this was what your life had become, other than the expected fatigue—

You only felt satisfied.

Satisfied that your own needs had been spectacularly met, of course, but also with the knowledge that your employers were even more satiated than you, and that you had done that. You couldn’t help but glow with a sense of pride when your doorbell rang one afternoon and you were handed a gorgeous flower arrangement, the corresponding card detailing that the unexpected, expensive gift was from Kim Seokjin. Months ago, you probably would have felt mortified to receive them—especially with the intimate knowledge of what exactly he was thanking you for—but you had earned those flowers, dammit! Earned that, as well as the absurd amount of money Namjoon unceremoniously wired you in between the texts he sent you every few days to check on you. 

You always gave your all to whatever you set out to do, and this was no different. You were a hard worker, period. No one could fault you for being pleased with the successful results of your efforts.     

So yes, you spent those next few days relaxing and recuperating and feeling rewarded. And when you finally felt enough like a human to leave your nest of pillows and blankets, you used your newfound freedom from distractions to catch up on other parts of your life you had been inadvertently ignoring—the first being your schoolwork, and the second, Jimin. 

You did a double-take when your text thread showed that the last time you had messaged him had been a week and a half ago, unbelieving. Though busy, the two of you never went that long without at least checking in, and for him to not reach out either? You couldn’t help but worry that maybe he had forgotten about you. Found someone much more interesting, someone prettier and much more available to be showered with his attention than you. 

But luckily, your slow spiraling was immediately halted when the timid Hey you sent him resulted in his bubbly, smiley face-filled reply barely a second later. 

And so now, there you were, meeting him in person for the first time in over a month.

“Sorry I’m late,” you told him as you approached the table, slightly out of breath from your hustle there. “Traffic was crazy and the Uber driver seemed afraid of driving, or something? Like, this probably isn’t the job for you if driving in the city makes you that nervous.” Because yes, when Jimin asked if you could meet him for dinner, you were surprised when he chose a spot downtown. And you were even more surprised when you finally arrived and realized that said restaurant was apparently an upscale hotspot, especially considering the meals you usually shared together consisted of nothing fancier than takeout or something you could grab from the convenience store.

He immediately stood up to wrap you in his arms, giving you a comforting squeeze that reflexively had you melting into the warmth of him before he let go. God, he smelled good. “Glad you made it in one piece,” came his amused reply, eyes twinkling as he reached over and politely pulled your chair out for you.  

You did your best to tamp down the familiar delighted butterflies that always sprung up within you when you were near him. There was something more pressing that needed to be addressed. “Jimin,” you hissed out the corner of your mouth, warily looking around. “You didn’t tell me this restaurant was so nice! I would’ve dressed up more.” Because as it was, your simple cocktail dress wasn’t really cutting it. The tables had cloth tablecloths that no doubt were removed and washed between each seating. There were multiple chandeliers sparkling from the ceiling, for fuck’s sake! Jimin had told you to wear something more on the nicer side, but he never told you this nice, and you could tell immediately that you were underdressed. You had been so excited to see him again that you just got in the car without even bothering to google the place first. 

Jimin waved a dismissive hand, visibly unbothered as he retook his own seat. For his part, he had actually taken the time to throw on a rather smart blazer over his dress shirt and slacks, his hair carefully styled and slicked back. “You look beautiful, as you always do.”

Your eyes shifted to the table, a shy but pleased smile inching across your lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for meeting me. I was worried you’d forgotten about me.”

You couldn’t help the incredulous snort that escaped you. “Me forget about you? No, of course not, Jiminie. I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the earth—I’ve just been so busy—”

Jimin’s raised hand halted your rambling, the gentle crinkle of his eyes calming your frazzled nerves. “Don’t worry,” he smiled. “I totally get it—I was just teasing. I could tell you had a lot going on, and so I just didn’t want to bother you. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Didn’t you, though? Would he feel the same way if he knew just what had been taking up all your time? You reflexively swallowed, sifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Yeah, school has been running me ragged.” And it’s not a lie. Just not the full truth.

“No kidding. I think I got seven hours of sleep total last week, so like I said, I totally get it.” Before it even registered that he was reaching for you, his hand was already enveloping yours, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your palm. “I’m just happy we have the chance to get together now. I missed you.” 

You felt yourself immediately soften into putty at his admission. “I’ve missed you too, Jimin,” came your soft reply. Dazedly, you tried your best not to visibly show how much his unexpected touch was making your heartbeat skyrocket, but from the pleased curl of his lips, you weren’t entirely sure you were successful. 

It didn’t matter, because just as easily as he had reached into your space, he was now letting go, pulling his appendage back to his side of the table to pick up his menu.  

As if waiting for a lull in your conversation, the waiter chose that moment to approach your table. “Welcome to Serendipity. Have the two of you dined with us before?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin replied, expectantly looking your way for your response and finding you scrabbling for your menu instead.

“Me neither,” you squeaked, flustered that you had been too busy making heart eyes at Jimin to even give it a cursory browse. “Is there anything you recommend?”

The waiter reached over a little to direct you a slip of paper on your table that had gone unnoticed until this moment. “You can find our current specials here—I’m a big fan of the salmon, but everything on there is excellent. And we’re actually currently running a dinner for two special, that’s been really popular. One appetizer to share, two entrées, and a dessert to share.”

Yes, it didn’t surprise you that that would be popular—along with how nice the restaurant was, you had noticed immediately when walking in that it was filled with couples who were clearly having romantic nights out.

“I think we’re still deciding on food.” Jimin’s voice cut through your thoughts. “But can we please see a wine list?”

Wine? Your brow raised, not opposed, but surprised. In all the time you’ve known each other, alcohol has certainly never been a stranger—you’ve had late night study sessions together, accompanied by chicken and beer; you’ve gotten shitfaced together at bars after particularly rough exams. But something about this felt…different. In this restaurant, much fancier than you anticipated, surrounded by couples, sitting across a candlelit table from where Jimin was poring over a wine selection that you knew had to be really expensive—this was undoubtedly more intimate.  

You idly cleared your throat, not daring to linger too long on the dots your mind couldn’t help but connect. Because it obviously couldn’t be that. It had to be a coincidence.

“_____,” Jimin said, the slight raise in his voice cluing you in that this wasn’t the first time he had tried to get your attention. “How does this one sound?” 

You blinked our of your thoughts, finding both him and the waiter looking at you expectantly. “Whatever you choose is fine!” you croaked, slapping on a smile for good measure.    

“Excellent choice. I’ll bring it right out,” the waiter said with an affirmative tilt of his head, and then the two of you were alone again. 

It was quiet for a bit while you both properly perused your menus, though from the corner of your eye, the curious glances Jimin was sending you didn’t escape your notice. You were acting weird. You were acting weird and he could clearly tell you were acting weird, but ever since you noticed the restaurant’s romantic atmosphere, you couldn’t help it.

“These prices are kinda wild, huh?” came your attempt at normal conversation.

Jimin took it in stride, lips curling in amusement. “Yeah, they’re definitely overcharging for those stuffed mushrooms. But don’t worry about it—I invited you out, so this is my treat.”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I can’t let you do that! I was just making a comment. Don’t worry, I have enough money to pay.”

He let out a bemused sigh, shaking his head, and if you didn’t happen to be looking directly at him, you might have missed him say under his breath, “You’re not gonna make this date easy for me, huh?”

You immediately choked on your own spit, eyes bugging at what you thought you heard. “D-Date?” you repeated incredulously.

Jimin’s spine went stiff, eyes widening as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. You could only watch in amazement as it was his turn to look shy, pointedly averting his gaze to his menu and letting out a chuckle that sounded suspiciously nervous to your bemused ears. When you continued to gape at him, waiting for some sort of explanation, he was forced to continue.

“Yeah,” he hedged cautiously. “That’s what I’d hoped. Would that be a bad thing?”

You couldn’t answer right away, staring him down like he had grown two heads and wondering when he was going to burst out laughing with a Gotcha! You should have seen your face.  

Always one for great timing, the waiter chose that moment to come back with your wine, taking his sweet time pouring it into each of your glasses and cheerfully chatting about the region it came from. You didn’t hear a single word, too focused on the way Jimin studiously avoided your stare, on the noticeable flush that had risen up his neck and was fanning across his cheeks. It was only after you apologetically asked for more time for your meal orders—your mind too frazzled to pick something on the spot—that he left again. Jimin took a long swig from his wineglass.

“Sorry,” he murmured, still not looking at you. “I probably should have let you know my intention beforehand, but I was nervous you wouldn’t come, or I’d chicken out of doing it, or—”

“Your intention?” you parroted dazedly. 

Another generous swallow of wine, the liquid courage coaxing his eyes to meet yours. “I wanted to take you out somewhere really nice,” he admitted. “Show you a good time and work up the nerve to properly ask you out again.”

“On a. Date?” Your lashes fluttered, an involuntary response to your brain short-circuiting. “With me.”

His lips twitched. “Yes, with you, silly.”

“Why?”

“You’re really going to make me say it? Before our food gets here?” He was fiddling with his napkin, but despite his clear nervousness, his gaze was now unwavering and his voice was clear. “Because I like you, _____. I have for a long time.”

These were words that you had only heard him whisper in your wildest dreams, when your subconscious thoughts were no longer being restrained by your common sense. And as such, you could only gape at him, sure you were about to wake up any second.

Your unintentional silence triggered Jimin’s tongue into overdrive, and you could only struggle to make sense of his rambling as he proceeded to tell you how much your friendship meant to him and how he was afraid confessing how he felt would affect it, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. How his feelings for you were growing by the day, and the recent time spent away from you was maddening and only confirmed to him how much he wanted to be with you. And so he felt he had to at least put it out there and try.

And the longer he talked, the more your eyes welled up with horrified tears, panic gripping you by the throat and squeezing, tight, tight.

This was nothing short of a nightmare. 

You would have never agreed to your arrangement with the Kims if you had thought in a million years Jimin would have ever been a serious option for you. 

Absolutely not. You would have swallowed your pride, maybe taken that loan from Tae instead. Would have also taken as many odd jobs as you could to pay him back, would have forgone sleep completely and struggled ten times more than you were now just so you could pay off your debts. Hell, you would have even just fucking dropped out. Would have taken the semester off and attempted to come back whenever you could scrounge up the appropriate funds. 

But never, never ever, would you have done what you had done. 

Because now, not only were you contractually unable to be with the man you’ve—in an attempt at self-preservation—refused to acknowledge you were in love with, but even if you found some legal way to quit now…there was zero chance Jimin would still want you when he knew. Less than zero. And you couldn’t blame him for that, because who would?

Beyond overwhelmed, you did the only sensible thing you could in that moment—you burst into tears.

Your sudden sniveling immediately halted Jimin’s rambling, eyes wide in alarm and looking every bit as distressed as you. “Ah—don’t cry!” He leaned over the table, cradling your face in his hands and swiping your tears with his thumbs. “You don’t have to feel the same way, _____. I’ll get over it, please don’t cry—”

“No,” you blubbered, beyond miserable. He couldn’t be more wrong. “I do! Jimin, I feel exactly the same way, I just…” Your eyes welled up anew, unable to tell him the truth. “I c-can’t.” 

“You can’t?” he repeated, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His eyes roved your face for any possible answers, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip in thought. “…Is this…” His thumbs were still caressing your cheeks, gaze gentle and open as he quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention. When it was clear no one was giving your table more than a few curious glances, he said quieter, “…Is this about the arrangement you have with Tae?”

Everything froze. Your eyes locked, Jimin patiently waiting for your reply. Hysteria trickled through your veins, held only a bay by the disbelief slamming into you harder than a freight train. “W-What arrangement?” you blurted reflexively, a touch too loudly to be believable. 

It was Jimin’s turn be caught off guard, hands slowly dropping from your face and returning to his side of the table, though he was still leaned over it so he could still whisper to you, “You know.” He looked at you pointedly, mouth downturning a bit in his confusion. “With him and his brothers. The arrangement.” 

Jesus Christ, this was not happening. There was no way that this was actually happening to you. There was no way that the man who unknowingly held your heart in the palm of his hand was fully aware that you were fucking his best friend for money. Deny, deny! “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, still visibly puzzled. But the two of you only sat in an awkward silence for a few more moments before he snapped his fingers, a light bulb clearly going off. “Ah! You can’t say anything because you signed an NDA, right?” 

You swallowed thickly, unable do anything more in that very moment than stupidly stare at him like a deer in the headlights. 

“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me,” Jimin chuckled, smacking his forehead for good measure. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize that sooner. Obviously you’re under NDA.” 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Weren’t sure from the gentle smile he was now sending you if he even expected a response from you. Luckily, Jimin kept talking. 

“But it’s okay—I already know everything, so you don’t have to hide it,” he reassured you. You didn’t feel assured. You felt like you were in the Twilight Zone. “Taehyung told me about your agreement when you started it months ago.”

If you were flustered before, that was nothing on what you were feeling now. Now, half-thoughts were ricocheting across your brain too quickly for you to grasp anything of substance but your internal screeching. “You know everything?” you repeated incredulously. This time it was you who leaned over the table, meeting him in the middle. “Taehyung told you?!”

“Of course he did!” Color rebloomed across his cheeks, but he didn’t shy away from the bewildered stare down you were giving him. “He’s my best friend and he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be stepping on any toes. He…knows how I feel about you.” When you only continued to stare at him, he nervously added, “Who do you think got me the reservation for this place to begin with? The waitlist is literally a year out.”

“I’m sorry, I just—” You pulled back so you could reach for your wineglass, allowing yourself a few healthy sips to give your mouth something to do other than flap about like an idiot while you stalled. Jimin didn’t call you out on it, just waited patiently and topped off your glass when you set it back down again. 

You took a few steadying breaths, ultimately choosing to lean back closer to Jimin. To the casual onlooker, the two of you were just another couple making heart eyes over a romantic dinner. And considering the rather lewd and illegal turn your conversation had just taken in this very public place, that only worked in your favor. “Let me get this straight,” you whispered, carefully choosing your words in case you still managed to garner an unwanted audience. “Taehyung told you the deal he has with me. Months ago.” Jimin nodded. “And you’ve known this entire time about our…arrangement, but never told me you knew.”

“I swear I didn’t at all mean to keep that a secret,” he murmured, expression contrite. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or embarrass you or anything like that, so I’ve just been waiting on you to bring it up at your own pace. But I didn’t take into account that you would never bring it up because you would be under NDA, which, again, now that I say it out loud was an extremely stupid assumption of me not to make. I’m sorry.”

“So. You have feelings for me,” you reiterated, ignoring the delighted shiver that raced up your spine at the words. You had to be sure. “But it didn’t bother you that your best friend…propositioned me? You have no problem with me being…involved with him and his brothers?”

“You were caught between a rock and a hard place and the grind never stops. You know I know that better than anybody,” he replied with a shrug. He swallowed, discreetly ensuring no one was paying the two of you any attention before he added, “You think you’re the only one who’s sucked dick for money?”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping a little before you could catch it. Was he…implying what you thought he was implying? There was no way. You had to be reading into it. 

But ultimately, all of this was irrelevant. When the ghost of Seokjin’s mouth on you came to you unbidden—the phantom weight of Taehyung’s body, the haunting reprimand of Namjoon’s stern hand—

You shook your head, unsuccessfully dispelling those unwanted, lingering thoughts. Your gaze skirted to the table, despondent and embarrassed as you finally set free your hushed admission. “Jimin, I’ve done more than suck dick for my money.” 

There was a pause, an agonizing one that felt like an eternity, and then he was lifting your chin with a finger and guiding you to meet his eyes.

“Again.” He reached for your hands, thumb tracing patterns over your knuckles. His smile was a soft secret. “You think you’re the only one?” 

He held your gaze, not looking away even though your mouth just flapped uselessly as you struggled to regain your bearings. So he did mean—

“Does knowing that bother you?” Jimin asked quietly, expression now carefully neutral. Seriously asking, and giving you the proper space to process and answer. “Does it change anything?”

“No.” The truth, though delayed, left you as easily as a breath. He was still Jimin. “Of course not.”

Jimin’s resulting grin turned his eyes into crescents. “Soooo…what I’m hearing is that we’re clearly on the same page and are both Team Fuck Bitches, Get Money.” 

Boy, did you wish you could smile back. Wish you could share in his obvious relief. But while you assumed his exploits were in the past, the same couldn’t be said for you, who was actively under contract. “Jimin, I’m still…employed,” you couldn’t help but point out. “And still will be for a while. That really doesn’t bother you?”

“It really doesn’t,” he insisted. But your continued hesitance had him pulling back from you, hands busying themselves with reaching for his wineglass as he carefully asked, “Should it? Is there something else I should know?” A couple sips of wine to steel himself before a  cautious, “Do you have feelings for any of them?”

“No!” you blurted. Despite the amount of time and intimacy you had been spending with the Kims, romantic feelings had never even crossed your mind. Your pussy certainly felt some things when she was getting some action, but your heart had never gotten involved. Your heart was too busy crowding in your throat at that very moment, threatening to fling itself at the man in front of you.

Jimin took your sincerity for what it was, a pleased twist to his lips. “Then it’s all fine with me. And again, Tae’s been aware from the beginning that I’ve been intending to ask you out, so that expectation has been there since the beginning. All three of them agreed to the deal knowing that I might be in the picture if I ever decided to put my big boy pants on and tell you how I feel. They’ve been expecting it, so they’re cool with it.”

“They’re cool with it,” you parroted blankly, completely flabbergasted. This was absolutely not how you foresaw this night going, and you never would have thought your life would ever take a turn like this in a million years. “They’re cool with it, and so are you?”

“I don’t mind sharing your time,” he shrugged. “So long as I’m not sharing you.”

“And you don’t see that as the same thing in this…situation?” you asked incredulously. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Jimin puffed out an amused laugh. “Wow, you really are trying to talk me out of this, huh?”

You waved your hands. “Absolutely not, that is the last thing I want! I just. I come with a lot of baggage, and I don’t want any of it to come as a surprise. As busy as I’ve been the last couple weeks? That’s becoming a reoccurring normal. And Jimin, I just feel really shitty.” You swallowed. “Because I can’t promise you everything that you deserve to be promised right now.”

Jimin’s face softened as he listened to you, visibly much more comfortable now that you had successfully reassured him just how badly you wanted this. And oh, did you want it. You weren’t sure how this could ever work, but god did you want it to.

“Not fair,” he repeated under his breath, eyes glazed over in thought. “Hmmm.” 

“Is there anything I could do?” you hedged. You weren’t really sure what that could possibly be, considering the ironclad situation you were in. But now that you had been given a glimmer of your heart’s desire, you couldn’t let it fade away. Not if you could help it.  

His reply wasn’t immediate, still lost in thought. But when his eyes finally refocused on you, smoldering and intense, you couldn’t help the way your breath caught in response, the way your heart quickened. “Here’s an idea of what we can do to make it fair. What if you continue to work for them, just as you are now. And then…” 

He was thoughtlessly swirling his wineglass, momentum pulling the ruby liquid into slow, circling waves that would be rather hypnotizing if you weren’t already caught in the snare of his gaze. When he leaned across the table again, the way you followed suit was as easy as breathing. A lovesick sailor willingly lured to possible danger by a siren’s song. “Whatever you do for them, you do for me. How does that sound?” 

You let out a soft breath, just the thought of it immediately electrifying your every atom. Sparks danced excitedly beneath your skin, his soft, sultry tone curling your toes in their shoes. 

“Fair.”

His Adam’s apple dipped excitedly, lips parting.

“So sorry to interrupt,” someone suddenly said from beside you. It was the waiter again. You had completely forgotten about him. Completely forgotten everything other than the restless tap of Jimin’s fingers against the table. “I just wanted to check in to see if you were ready to order?” 

“Yes, I think so.” You didn’t look away from Jimin—still hadn’t even glanced at the menu. Your tongue swiped over your lips, and his gaze darkened in response. 

“But I think we’d like it to go.”

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

[horrorlesbians]

random question but where do you shop for clothes? I love your style!

i answered a question similar to this in more detail so I'll find and reblog that ask but I mainly thrift for my clothing nowadays. the only fast fashion I still shop from is urban outfitters or target but I'm trying to shop less and less fast fashion, at least first-hand fast fashion (I luv depop).

a lot of my cool fandom shirts are from indie shirt makers and here are some of my favorites (I don't have shirts from every brand but I love their designs so much)-

halftone horror

ruckingfotten (i have many of their long sleeve designs)

creep o rama (i have their true detective and the ritual shirts)

studio house designs (I have one of their X designs)

graveyard goods

online ceramics (I have sooooo many of their x and pearl designs)

[veritable-trash]

maybe it's never truly over

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader(nickname used but no descriptors!)

Summary: It's been a long time since you've seen each other. For you it hasn't been long enough but for Miguel things are a bit more complicated.

Word Count: 1K

Rating: E - for eventual smut, friends to enemies to friends to lovers i think??? this chapter is tame just seeing if people are interested in what i might decide to cook up <3 :)

A/N: alright alright alright like literally everyone i watched spiderverse and have now descended into the black hole of being obsessed with every character from that movie but this one right here????? yes yes i like him very much. anyways wrote this for fun think i might try another series and see what comes of it. this is not sticking to any canon(lol miguel would be PISSED but this is my multiverse bitch!) because there's such a depth to his character that i want to just play with in this story potentially.

anyways if you like this little intro and want to read more and see where these two little weirdos spin their way off to reblog, send me thirsty thoughts about this man, comment to your heart's content about how his body is shaped like a dorito and i want to eat HIM!

also @dameronscopilot wrote an absolute SPICED piece for Miguel so go read that now if anyone sees this!!!!!

enjoy :)))))))))

masterlist weeeeeeeee

~~~~~

There was something different about today. 

Air shimmering like it was about to crystallize and crack at any given moment. 

Like the world was gonna stop all of a sudden and dissolve into some weird cosmic puddle. 

But not for you. Never for you because even when things felt like they were about to snap, crackle, pop, your life tended to stay a bit boring. It had been a long, long time since you’d felt any kind of twinkle in your life, and you didn’t mind it. The last time things had fizzled like that you’d been left a bit shattered yourself. 

Even still, the niggle at the nape of your neck wouldn’t let up. even the sidewalk seemed to wobble under your feet as you traversed the packed streets of Nueva York. Your palms can’t help but start sweating, heart kicking up its pace as the people around you seem to crowd and crowd and crowd. 

Alley. You need to find an alley and fucking breath. 

You turn in fast on the tight corridor, the smell of garbage helping to clear the dizziness in your head but it still isn’t gone. The feelings still there. Why won’t it just fucking leave you-

“Lyla I got it. Just check the other dimensions and report back to me I haven’t seen any signs of them here.”

And now you know why this an entire day has been like walking through jelly.

Because the second Miguel O’Hara turns around and sees you, everything absolutely shatters.

It’s been years, maybe over a decade since he’s seen you, but you’ve seen plenty of him. The magazines, the news, online, every god damn street corner of this godforsaken city conveniently reminds you of this Dorito-shaped dip shit man. 

Nothing changes in his demeanor, to an unseasoned eye, but you remember Miguel from before. Gabe’s older brother Miguel, mama’s boy Miguel, your best friend Miguel, and his eyes can’t hide the things you know deep in his heart. 

You don’t even know what to say. There’s nothing left in your brain, just him, still staring, but now from new heights, with new scars, and it scares the shit out of you.

And pisses you the fuck off.

“So what? You go radio silent for over ten years and now you’re gonna stalk me in some alley like creep? Very on brand Miguel but I thought you would have fucking grown up by now.”

His shoulders tense and you can’t stop the way your lips curve as you sense you’ve gotten to him, even if only a little. But then he’s turning away, slowly walking down the alley towards the brick wall and you realize he’s not going to say anything to you. That he’s going to just leave again without a single fucking word.

“Miguel if you don’t turn the fuck around right now and say something to me I will beat the shit out of you I swear to god. I know your weak spots don’t make me fucking use it!”

(it’s just under his ribs, but only on the right side)

“Bichito, pleas-“

“Don’t you dare fucking call me that. Don’t you fucking dare. You lost the right to call me that when you disappeared on me. Fuck you Miguel, honestly I don’t even have anything left to say to you just fuck off.”

This time his face face does crumple just a little bit and you preen at his pain. Suck it into your lungs as the boy who trampled your heart finally gets a taste of how you bled. 

You turn back to the chaos of the street and throw yourself into the people, away from Miguel and all the bullshit, earth shattering happening behind you. It’s been a long time since you’ve needed Miguel O’Hara and it’ll be an even longer time before you come back around to his antics.

Probably never.

~~~~~

He fucked up. 

Miguel didn’t know how he’d dropped the ball this hard, but he’d fucked up big time and for once it didn’t involve some stupid fucking multiverse drama. 

It involved you. 

You, the girl from down the block who used to wrestle Gabriel and make flower crowns out of the flowers growing between the cracks in the concrete. 

You, the girl who stayed up till the sky started to turn pink again listening to him rant on and on about his shitty dad and his shitty life.

You, his Bichito, his little bug, his best friend, the center of what he thought was his tiny little universe so many years ago. 

But he’d left that behind. Thought that he could find something else, find something better, finally be happy in ways he’d never even dreamed of.

And look at where it had gotten him. 

He wasn’t ever supposed to run into you again. He was supposed to be vigilant, cautious, knew that running into you would derail him a thousand times over and he had bigger things to be focusing on. Multiverse-altering, dimension-destroying things to focus on.

Yet the universe had dropped you both in that alley and something deep in his chest rippled with feelings he couldn’t seem to find a word for. It was fucking terrifying and he wasn’t going to let it fester. 

He had things to do. Universes to fix. An ever growing mantle of responsibility hanging of his shoulders.

A constant reminder of his fuck ups and the reality that he wasn’t going to let himself slip up again. 

And yet as his claws carry him up and onto the rooftops of Nueva York, Miguel O’Hara has a terrifying suspicion that he may no longer be able to stay away. 

~~~~~

hehehehAHAHHAHA god i love this twisted little sad sack man who just wants to be all rough and tough. anyways haven't written in ages and this character has gotten me at least sorta interested in writing so i just wanted to throw this out there, get something moving, even if i go back into dormancy for another millenia.

well heart eyes for you guys and forehead kisses for anyone who reads i hope your day is a dream <33333333333

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab (19)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning: Frustration, Online Gaming, and Revelations

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

All occupants of Wayne manor knew Jason was in a sour mood. To what extent or why was not clear, but it was obvious in his lack of snippy banter and increased silence, and when he did respond, it was sharper than usual. It was as if he was regressing back to the days when he was still finding his footing amongst them. He and Bruce never had an outwardly discussion clarifying everything, but there was something that was done to help build a new foundation, regardless oh how shaky that was.

They tried to approach the second Robin in a variety of ways, trying to unearth the reason for the sudden slip into anger. Some thought Bruce and him had an argument, while others thought there may be trouble in the Outlaws. Neither was able to confirm their suspicions, and any attempt to do so was met with aggression and deflection.

Annoyed by all their brown nosing, Jason left the manor and spent the next couple of nights at his own apartment. Of course, I’d have no privacy in a house full of detective vigilantes. He rolled his eyes as he rolled out of bed and made his way over to his computer. Plopping onto the chair, he let it wheel backwards before pulling himself forward by the desk. He stared at the game icon on his desktop for what felt like the umpteenth time today. His fingers drummed just below his keyboard as he eyed his mouse, which rested only a couple inches away. I can’t just log on and act like I haven’t been gone in forever. She’s probably pissed that her online buddy has been MIA for so long. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, the chair reclining with his weight. This is my only way to even speak to her, though. I cleared up the bill crap, maybe I can meet her again through here? Fake that I didn’t know who she was? Not like she’d ever know that I knew anyway. Pursing his lips to one side, he intensely stared at his ceiling, as if it held some sort of secret that would aid him in his decision to long on or not. 

“Fuck it, I’m logging on!” The seat swung forward with him as he sat up and logged onto the game.

Arkam_Knight has logged in. The italicized text popped up on the screen, much to Y/N’s surprise. Her character was currently standing in the town square looking at the request board for something that was easy enough for a solo hunt. Seeing the name of her dearly miss comrade was an answer to her desperate pleas for some miracle because there was no mission that allowed solo entry. She eagerly opened the chat box and began to type.

<Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Where have you been?! I would’ve called the police for a wellness check, but I don’t have a clue on where you live.>  She watched the ellipses bounce then vanish repeatedly for a couple of minutes. The longer he took to reply, the more concerned she was becoming. An unknown weight slowly creeped onto her shoulders. Anxious thoughts spun around in her mind. The distant ding of his response was able to rip her from the thoughts.

<Yeeeaaah, my bad. Work was crazy and shit had me all over the fucking place trying to clean up. I can’t go into detail, a lot of confidential crap.>

<Yeah, I figured. So, I know you can’t tell me what you do for a living, but I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re working as a high level officer of some kind. I won’t ask you what branch, but sounds like you do work city wide, which I have no clue how you handle that.>

<Someone’s gotta do the dirty work, right? It ain’t for everyone. It just so happens that I’ve got a knack for it.> He added a little proud sticker. <You’ve been MIA yourself, I’ve logged in a few times and saw you hadn’t been on in a while.>

<Where do I even begin? Life has been kicking both of us in the asses, it seems.> She sent an exhausted sticker. She paused for a few minutes, staring at her blinking cursor. How was she going to explain it all to him? Would it even be believable? She, herself, also found it hard to swallow was true. From dealing with Waynes to meeting two of Batman’s partners to being part of a claim investigation because of the collateral damage to the building.

I thought dealing with snobby rich kids and wild Karens was as crazy as my life was going to be. Who knew I’d be entangled with crime fighters and a Trust Fund kid. She slumped in her seat, slowly tapping at the space bar to let him know she was still there. Erasing the long gap of emptiness, she sat up once more.

<Give me a sec, gotta organize my thoughts on this.>

<Damn, that much? Take your time, I’m here.>

<Thanks.> She smiled at the animated thumbs up sticker was sent. At least I still hot my friends.

Jason sank back into his computer chair, rocking back and forth and swinging side to side as he awaited for her response. Watching the symbol of her typing appear and disappear multiple times was far more torturous than he anticipated. He knew what she was going to tell him, he was there with her. She did not know that, and he did not know how she took any of it. The only thing he could rely on were the facts, but that did nothing for his nerves.

If someone told him that he would wake up one morning in a hotel room next to a stranger, who knew how to get under his skin and take over his thoughts, he would have laughed at them. If they told him she was his online gaming buddy as well, he would have scoffed the added detail and never spoken to the person for being out of their mind. And yet, here he was, months later, talking to that very strange woman, battling between keeping in touch and cutting all ties. 

If things could just go back to when we didn’t know each other, it could just be simpler. I can’t even game with her without feeling some sort of way. He rubbed his chest as that uncomfortable weight sank onto his heart. I should’ve just paid the bill and let it be. Why did it matter if she knew me or not? I knew she got screwed over because of me, I should’ve just ended it as soon as I found her. His irrational actions bothered him. He was a cold and calculating vigilante that played by his own rules. He even ran the crime world for a time when he was completely at odds with Batman and was blinded by his heightened rage. He survived death and a beating from the Joker. Handling a hotel bill for a girl should not be this difficult, and yet here he was stuck in quicksand. He glanced at his computer monitor and his eye twitched at the site of the dots vanishing again. “What is she doing, right a novel?!” He threw his hands up and heaved a heavy sigh.

He swung his chair straight at the ding and leaned in close to the monitor, skimming the paragraph before forcing himself to read from the start.

<Ok, Dickens, you didn’t tell me you were publishing a novel! Lol, give me a sec to read all this.>

 It started off as he expected, she mentioned their first few meetings and how she fumbled with trying to hide herself. He could not help the snicker that came at her admission of being angry at him, but a grin quickly took over when she confessed that she found him good-looking. 

“Damn right, you did! I’m fucking handsome!” He boasted, puffing his chest with pride before diving back into the text. I came that night and those pricks were there, ok, Nightwing and Red Robin came crashing through the window, fine, so then-wait, what the fuck! His gaze snapped back to the two mentioned vigilantes and the incident he was not aware of at all. “When the fuck did this happen? Did Dickhead do this on purpose?! I’m going to enjoy getting answers out of him later.” He cracked his knuckles as a wicked smirk took over. He carefully read through the incident and soon realized that this was in fact a coincidence, but his ‘darling’ older brother failed to mention it to him. At least they left her a tip.

Pushing forward, he read about the following insurance claim filing that was on going to prove that this was not something staged. Then there were her concerns about a particular caffeine addicted young teen who was another Wayne with another name. His mind instantly flashed to the memory of Tim’s coffee cup.

Don’t tell me he’s in on it too! Nosy assholes, Jason was ready to flip his computer table but kept his composure. No, he can’t be. He hasn’t been asking me shit or tailing me in any way. That means this is just his need for coffee, and she makes damn good coffee. He reasoned himself back into a state of calm to read onwards. The name of the detective in charge of the claim has him seeing red. He paced the length of his bedroom to avoid breaking his only means of communication with her. “Oh, I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him the next time I see him! That was on purpose, he chose to take the lead on this because I told him her name. Dickhead is in for a world of pain.” His voice rumbled in anger as he expended the rage through physical activity. 

He sat back in his seat when he felt he was calm enough to, and continued to read the rest of what she had to say. She finally got to their last evening together. He made her brownies and she was really touched by it.

<I was purely joking about the brownies, but he actually went through with it! I don’t think I’ve ever dated a guy who made me brownies, and he’s a stranger! It’s insufferable just how perfect he is for dropping such a huge bill on my head!> She punctuated with angry stickers. <I didn’t want to eat them, though. I wanted to keep them forever, like a memento since-well, I’m getting a head of myself.> She dove into the details of their diner date. He remembered that night, they talked for hours, but it felt like hardly any time had even gone by. <I hated asking him to pay, but I had to. It was getting to be too much for me and my roomie. He was great about it, a real gentleman. I said to just help with what was left, but he paid me the whole thing! I really had him wrong in my head. We ended up staying out late, talking. I don’t think I’ve ever had such an easy conversation with a guy before. When the diner had to close, he took me home and even waisted until I got through the front door. But now I don’t have any reason to talk to him, and he hasn’t made any effort to reach out to me either. Which loops back to the brownies. I wanted to keep them as a memento because it looks like that chapter is closed. But all of his efforts would’ve gone to waste. They were really good, which sucks. Now he’s even more of a jerk wad because it’s not fair! My roomie has plans to celebrate my freedom, but I’m not so sure. I want to, but it involves the tip from Nightwing and Red Robin. Would that be considered evidence or something I should hand over to the detective at my formal interview?>

The infamous Red Hood sat there, speechless, with his head swimming from his and her emotions. She clearly wanted to keep up their friendship, and he did too, but it was not safe. She was already linked to two of them, which was bad enough. He knew he was the worst of them to ever be associated with, and that made this more irritating for him. He muttered profanities as he slammed his fist on the desk. If only he could untangle himself from all this, everything would be fine.

<Shit, you really were busy. Glad to hear he paid his dues like a man. But if he’s so hot, why not just ask him out yourself?> He suggested. He needed to act like any other citizen. He needed to distance himself from himself in her mind. <Did you really serve Nightwing and Red Robin while they were on a mission? I definitely wouldn’t have thought about giving them coffee in the middle of all that. Though, he sounds like a weirdo saying your name so many times. I doubt he was threatening you, maybe he’s got some weirdo fetish? I’d say keep away from him. As great as he is, a masked guy flipping through the Gotham night in spandex must have some sorta thing.> He insisted. That’s what you get, Dick-wing. He smirked. <The tip is yours to keep, you served them, and they gave you a tip. Unless it had some secret message or some sort of flash drive, cash isn’t going to be a dig deal. Plus, they didn’t ask you about the tip though they saw it on camera, you’re good. It’s yours, use it.>

<Yeah, she said the same thing. Said it was a gift from the heavens and I shouldn’t be so paranoid. Also, no way in hell am I asking him out! He’ll think I’m some gold digging hussy! The guy paid for dinner and the hotel bill, I think I’m the last person he wants to see again!>

<Listen to me, I’m a guy, trust me. If he thought you were a gold digger, he would’ve ended shit right away or left you at the diner. The guy made you brownies! I think you can give him some slack and think that maybe, just maybe, he likes your company too?>

<If he liked it so much, why hasn’t he texted me?>

<Because he’s a bigger dumbass and overthinks like you? Thinks you hate him or that you don’t want anything to do with him because he landed you in shit?> He countered. <You don’t have to do anything, I’m just saying thinking about it. Whatever you choose, just don’t abandon me again! Solo raiding was horrible!> He added a few tearful stickers to gain sympathy.

<You think? Alright, alright, I get it! Sheesh, I just told you, I didn’t vanish on purpose! I promise, I’ll keep in touch as best I can! I don’t have to OT anymore, so that’s promising. Thanks for listening. Now, let’s go kick some monster tail!>

<LOL, anytime! I thought you’d never ask!>

Tags:

@vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotall @antiquecultist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Weird ask, but WIBTA for going to a nearby office building and asking to look around?

I've never worked in one so I don't fully know how appropriate this would be, but I really like the appearance of this one office building down the street. I've always wondered what they do there/what kind of businesses operate inside such a beautiful building, but looking up online did not give me any leads. Would it be socially appropriate to go inside, find someone (do they have front desks? idk) and ask about it? Is it even legal to go inside someplace I don't work?? (USA California if that matters). And, if it is, would the best time to do so be during the weekends or weekdays? Lunch??? (i think you can answer in comment or reblogs? ) I don't want to disturb anyone or give anyone the creeps,,,

Of course I don't *need* to find out what's inside, I can just stay curious, but if I could, I'd really like to. shhfhhs sorry this is kind of weird but I'm being completely genuine, walking past this place has always calmed me and the appearance is like unbelievably pretty to me... i'm not an architect or anything so i don't know what it is exactly i just really really love this building :,)

What are these acronyms?

[viktheviking1]

The scariest people are never the ones who immediately creep you out. They are the ones who are expert at seeming trustworthy. You may already know someone like this, and not realize it yet.

Be it on the Internet or in real life, it is important to be cautious around anyone who starts suggesting things you aren't comfortable with or asking for information that is none of their business.

Things no one taught you about the Internet!

Starting with minors (17 and under in the US)

DON'T POST YOUR AGE! Or age rage. Or birth year. Do not write 'minor' in your bio. This is probably the most common and most dangerous mistake! You will be actively targeted.

Don't pretend you're an adult!!! If a creep sees that you wrote 18 or older but act like a minor, they will do all the same tricks to become your friend, and know they have a legal loophole because they can always claim they didn't know! This is almost more dangerous than just saying "I'm a kid, come hurt me"

Instead just don't say anything! Don't post it anywhere, and don't add it to your bio. If someone asks you for your age, just block them.

Don't share your name or nickname! Even if you don't share your last name, they can pick up enough details about you over time that even a first name is enough to find you.

Instead, use a totally different name! Something like Eli_Bloodsucker is way more fun, just don't use it if your real name or even a real life nickname is Eli, Eliza, Ellie, or anything else even remotely similar!

Don't talk to anyone directly! Be it in comments or asks or in direct messages, they're all dangerous. It doesn't matter if they say they are a minor or an adult. If you can't see their face, don't talk to them. If you find a real life friend you didn't know had an account, don't talk to them. That might not be your friend. You can text your friend directly or talk to them in real life about it later.

Instead, just spread positivity purely form likes and reblogs. Pretend the comment and chat buttons are lava or acid or something. Don't touch them.

Don't share ANYTHING about where you live. Not even country. Don't tell someone about how it's always humid where you live or that there's a storm where you are.

Instead, you can share about weather vaguely later. For example, "a few months ago it snowed and I slipped on ice."

Don't, talk about an activity that would even hint that you are a minor. Don't talk about school, don't talk about piano lessons, don't talk about martial arts class, or football practice. Don't mention growing out of your clothes. Don't mention how your mom grounded you. Don't talk about your little brother barging into your room.

Instead, before posting any stories from your real life, ask yourself if this could also easily apply to someone in their 20s living with roommates instead of family members and working a full-time job. If the answer is yes, then post it, if not, don't. (Good example: I burnt my eggs but I didn't want to waste it so I still ate it. Bad example: My dad made me eggs this morning even though I hate them, and made me eat them.)

Don't post or share pictures or videos of yourself online. Someone can either use it to find you or steal them to lure your friends or other people your age into trusting them.

Instead, find a picture of a duck with a mustache online, and make that you're profile picture. Find a map of Australia and post that as your "outfit check". Way more fun.

Do not trust the person who reblogged this. Do not trust the original poster. Creeps will sometimes post about Internet safety as part of their plan to make you trust them.

So how can you tell who to trust, and who not to? You can't! That's the Internet. Better to play it safe than to risk your actual life over a post or a trend

Adult Internet safety:

Idk, it's your life. You know the consequences you might face. Make your own damn decisions. If your dad can't tell you what to do, then I sure can't.

Oh, and don't interact with people you know, or think, are kids. There is help available for those who are tempted to do this. Don't go down that path. There are resources, there are other ways. Having thoughts isn't a crime, acting on them is. PLEASE talk to a licensed professional.

[mcufandomhatespeopleofcolor]

Some Clarification

Hi so I'm mod ali (original blog here: @aliciadreams  and other newer blog is @aliciadreaming I'm also a mod on fhpoc, fhw and several other blogs)

I want to address the fact that a few weeks ago a follower khalifaziz reblogged something we had posted and pointed out that the op was a terf.  Self described lesbian terf. (post is here)

Now when I had replied to this I deleted the first reblog and just kept the one where I addressed khalifaziz.  Then I confronted mod palette who was the one who reblogged it.  I didn't think to take a screenshot but when I brought it up here was the conversation.  But I'll summarize the contents of the screenshots. 

First I asked mod palette to download shinigami eyes and she said she wasn't going to because it was made by a pedophile.  I consulted with other mods from the various blogs and we couldn't find any proof of that and mod palette never submitted proof of it either.  Then mod palette started talking about "her right to being able to reblog who and what she wanted to.”  I told her she she had a choice a) stop reblogging terfs or b) leave the blog. 

And then she doubled down and REALLY started sounding terfy. 

So I told her she sounded like a full blown terf and I wanted her gone. 

She tried to leave on her terms and even though I said i wasn't going to post this conversation I think I have to because of what's happened to our follower count.  We used to have over 2000 followers and now we have 54 followers.  I've tried searching for things tagged with our blogs url but can't find anything.  I know that the options for the blog were turned off here (another screenshot) I turned them on yesterday but it hasn't affected our activity at all. we've got like 0 notes for the past 6 days.  

I want to take this opportunity to reassert that I and mod Laina the only active mods left here are trans inclusive we use shinigami eyes when we're on desktop.   And we want to keep make this an inclusive blog 

[about 8 or 9 screenshots under the cut]

Below that there’s a partial transcription of the screenshots.

Aliciadreams:

hey how are you?

Um I noticed something troubling in our notes today.

there's a post that khalifaziz commented on https://www.tumblr.com/khalifaziz/761253014092873728?source=share

and I didn't reblog it you did. can you please do me a favor and like download shinigami eyes so this doesn't happen again?

Sep 11 9:53 PM

palettesofrenaissance-main:

No, I don't want to download that. And also that thing was made by a pedophile

Sep 12 1:11 AM

Aliciadreams:

I wasn't aware of that do you have proof?

Sep 12 4:53 AM

Heyyyy so how are we going to resolve this? you can't be reblogging terfs.

Sep 12 7:32 PM

palettesofrenaissance-main:

Don't know what happened to the previous DM. I have some time so here goes. About the creator of the browser extension being a pedophile, rapist, or whichever, that was years ago and I believe you can find it if you Google. You can decide on your own about if it's "evil" or not. It's crazy to give your info to one person. One single person

I don't waste energy worrying about posts or act like an obsessed creep looking back at every single thing before I reblog, especially if the post actually means something itself. I don't care about beef between users, whether someone says "I don't like what so and so thinks" That isn't the purpose of running a simple blog for no money that won't actually make any difference. No one's being paid, endorsed, jeopardized, saved, and there's truly no differences being made through this website anyway

What I'm going to do is continue living my life and coming online whenever I choose to, and reblog nice-looking posts just like literally a good sum of users are doing on here. I'm going to keep reblogging things about characters of color and actors of color, and if there's any posts about people of color, and that's it

Today 10:49 AM

Aliciadreams:

OK so we obviously are having a miscommunication here. I'm going to ask for you to choose: 1) you stop reblogging terfs to the blog 2) we part ways and you leave the blog now.

palettesofrenaissance-main:

That boogeyman word means something to you? I've seen it being thrown around at women and lesbians who don't do what you say or like, calling like a dogwhistle for conservative-thinking "liberals" and/or homophobic narcissists using social justice key words and therapy words to demonize. You say one "wrong" thing and now several cronically online users demonize, point fingers like 5 year olds and trying to rally for a women to wear a scarlet A and get a virtual stoning

Thinking back on it, that post was literally just about women in Afghanistan being oppressed as an effect of a political decision. That's something informative and worthwhile to share whether it comes from CNN, ABC, or someone you had beef with online. Thinking an article with valuable information is suddenly "bad" because it happened to be posted by someone on tumblr labeled "bad" is actually pretty telling about actual values and mindsets

And your priorities are to appear socially pure it's apparent

Today 4:40 PM

Aliciadreams:

I think you're talking like a full blown terf. If you really don't see the harm in terf rhetoric and why it's important to reject terfs and their rhetoric then there's nothing else to discuss. Trans women are women and you sound like jk Rowling. These blogs are unpaid you're right but our followers deserve to know who they're following. If you don't leave the blog within the next 48 hours I'm going to post this entire conversation on the blog complete with your username.

palettesofrenaissance-main:

So you're doing the scarlet letter thing too with no proof, trying to sick your dogs on me now because I said something you deem "bad?"

You're literally one of those online people whom others talk about shouting and whining about things that either aren't true or without proof. You've done it to the point it would be concerning if someone cared. I don't know what jk Rowling did or whatever this has to do with trans people, because it doesn't, but you're a heretic and there's something in your head that isn't right. By you sending this, you also show lack the maturity despite your body physically being grown, lack self reflection, and that you revolve yourself around how you appear online by riding whatever is currently being said, like what you accuse me of believing (without proof, albeit). Obviously I don't know what in the world you're on, but I don't want none of it. Therefore, you're only skin deep, a liar, and possibly a narcissist. And you take blogging WAY too seriously for a sane person

Aliciadreams:

I'm giving you the option to get out of this with no one knowing your url or your blatant disregard for spreading transmisogyny. Or are you having trouble reading that part? You have until Monday at 9pm pacific to leave the blog. If you don't leave I will release this entire exchange.

Today 9:56 PM

[end of transcription I didn't get the rest before she blocked me]

[rebelwrites]

Fifteen: So What Happened Last Night?

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Resting my phone against my chest I found myself blankly staring up at the ceiling willing my body to go back to sleep. The sun was starting to creep into the room through the cracks in the blinds, the soft orange glow bounced off the walls, running my hand over my face. I finally admitted there was no way I was going to get back to a peaceful slumber, not when I had spent the best part of the last year waking up at the crack of dawn.

Feeling my phone vibrate against my body, I harshly rubbed my eyes as I tried to move but I quickly found I was being pinned down to the soft mattress by Charles’ arm draped across my torso. I couldn’t help but cock my brow at the screen of my phone once I had finally grabbed it. Jax’s name shone bright in the low light of the room.

Why was my brother texting me at five in the morning?

05:01 - whatever you do Squirt please don’t look at social media

Well, that was like telling me not to press a big red button, it was just going to make me want to do it even more. Swiping the conversation off my screen I automatically opened Instagram, the moment the feed loaded my heart sank into my stomach making me wish I had listened to my older brother for once.

My eyes went wide at the picture that was staring back at me but what caused tears to slide down my cheeks were the comments.

I knew people could be mean online but never I had the hate directed at me, I couldn’t stop the tears as I slowly locked my phone before gently prying Charles arm off my torso allowing me to escape the cloud like bed. The next five minutes were a blur as I grabbed Charles’ hoodie he was wearing last night, pulling it over my body letting the smell of his aftershave flood my senses providing me a small amount of comfort.

Sneaking out onto the balcony I placed a cigarette between my lips as I sunk down onto the outdoor sofa, I wanted to scream. I knew I should have put the phone away but I couldn’t help but continue scrolling through the comments. My head was spinning as the tears rolled freely down my cheeks, the more I read the words of random strangers on the internet the more my insecurities ate me alive.

She looks like a troll!!

What does Charles see in her? She’s the size of a whale.

Where are the supermodels he usually dates?

Look at those love handles, it’s making me feel sick.

Waking up to the bed being empty caused Charles' heart to sink, he let his arm move over to where Nova had been sleeping only to find the sheets were cold meaning she had left a while ago. Panic flooded his veins as he desperately went over everything that happened last night trying to pinpoint why he was waking up alone, however he was drawing blank.

He couldn’t find a single reason.

Everything about last night was perfect, listening to the sweet voice of the girl that had captured his heart and falling asleep with her wrapped in his arms. Running his hand over his face, he rolled out of bed, feeling the softness of the rug under his feet. As he was reaching for his phone he noticed the balcony door was open slightly.

For a moment he dropped his gaze to the screen of his phone just as a text came through from his brother.

07:31 - BRO YOU NEED TO CALL MAMAN ASAP

07:33 - APPELEZ-MOI MAINTENANT (CALL ME NOW)

07:34 - WAKE UP FUCKFACE!!!!

Confusion washed over Charles as he knitted his brows together at the messages, the sound of Nova’s soft cries caused him to lock his phone, he didn’t care he was wearing nothing but his boxers, he needed to see why she was crying.

The moment he saw Nova sat with her knees pulled to her chest, he felt his stomach twist into a knot. His movements were smooth as he quietly made his way over to the girl that had flipped his world upside down.

“Sunshine,” Charles whispered, placing his phone on the table before he crouched down resting his hand on Nova’s knee, “what's with all these tears?” he asked softly. Nova stayed silent, pulling her hands away from her face looking up at Charles. His heart broke as he took in how blood shot her piercing green eyes were. Reaching up he softly ran his thumb over her cheeks wiping away the tears that dampened her skin, “Parlez-moi Talk to me,” Nova sighed heavily as she passed Charles her phone, which was still open on the instagram post.

Charles couldn’t believe what he was reading, anger bubbled inside of him. There were only a few people that knew about their whereabouts and the only way they would have gotten to picture was if they were there, meaning it had to be someone from the yacht staff. However the thing that was upsetting him the most were the harsh words people were commenting about a girl they didn’t even know.

“Come here babygirl,” he hummed, placing the phone onto the small table before wrapping his arms around Nova, “they don’t know what they are talking about. You are beautiful, smart, brave and one of the best women I know.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the top of Nova’s head, “all the people that are commenting about you are jealous, because I want to be with you and not them,” before he could say another word his ringtone started echoing around the two of them. He turned his gaze to the screen seeing his mother’s face staring back at him, “I need to answer that,” he said softly, “you ready to meet my Maman?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” Nova whimpered, roughly wiping her eyes with the sleeves of Charles’ hoodie she was wearing.

“Sunshine, Maman is going to love you.”

Jax watched intently as the red Ferrari gracefully pulled into the bar's car park, with bated breath he watched Nova through the passenger window, he couldn’t quite see if she had tear stained cheeks from where he was standing.

Some of the comments made his blood boil, making him want to track down every single person, putting a 9mm hole in their heads. That thought alone scared him slightly, he wasn’t the same person he was when he was a teen, he didn’t carry all of the time now but when it came down to Nova he would go on a killing spree, without batting an eyelid just to protect her.

The moment he saw the post and the horrendous comments Charles’ fans were saying his stomach twisted into a tight knot knowing how much this would tear her up. He had spent many years consoling his baby sister when her insecurities and demons in her mind became too much to bear.

A small smile appeared on his face as he watched Charles climb out of the driver’s seat, jogging around the front of the vehicle before opening the passenger door helping Nova out of the car. It was a breath of fresh air to see her with someone that wasn’t a complete douchebag.

Surprisingly Nova stepped out of the car with a bright smile on her face, it had been a while since he had seen his sister with a smile that actually reached her piercing green eyes. He had never seen his little sister so happy, he just hoped that this wasn’t just a fling between her and Charles and they could make the long distance work.

Running his hand through his perfectly kept blonde hair smirking as Charles and Nova walked hand in hand up to the building. It was as if they were in their own protective bubble, like the recent social media post didn’t exist. He just prayed that she had actually done what he had told her for once and kept off the internet.

He knew his sister didn’t come home the previous night meaning he was ready to go into fully annoying big brother mode teasing her about her whereabouts, although there was no need to ask where she was, he already knew she spent the night with Charles. “Soooooooo,” Jax whistled, placing a cigarette between his lips before extending his arm out to Nova offering her one which she quickly took with a nod, “what happened last night?” his tone was playful as he nudged Nova’s arm with his elbow.

“Like I’m gonna tell you,” Nova hummed, pausing to take a long drag of the smoke, “but we do need to talk about Juice, that boy’s had too many fuckin’ chances.”

Before Jax could speak Elenor came running over linking her tiny hand with Charles’, giggling loudly as she pulled him into the bar. Jax wrapped his arm around Nova’s shoulders pulling her into his side. He took a deep breath before asking his next question, normally he could read Nova like an open book but not today, “I need to tell you something.”

“Yea, I know,” Nova said with no emotion in her voice, “I kinda looked this morning.”

Jax let out a heavy sigh, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “are you okay?”

“Meh, Char helped calm me down this morning, he helps keep the demons away,” Nova said quietly looking down at her trainers, “I knew there was a chance this could get out but I didn’t expect it to be so quick, ya know,” she sighed, resting her head on her brother’s shoulder.

“Are you together now then?” Jax asked.

“I think so,” Nova nodded.

“You think so? Surely it is a yes or no answer.”

“We haven’t really spoken about it, guess we are just seeing where it goes. At the end of the day he will be leaving town in a couple of weeks so I don't wanna get my hopes up,” she said, Jax didn’t miss the hint of sadness in her tone as she mentioned about Charles leaving.

“Even I can see that boy loves you,” Jax whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Nova’s head, “don’t focus on him leaving town, just focus on the time you have with him. Life is short squirt, don't let an opportunity to fall in love slip through your fingers.”

The sound of his daughter’s giggles coming from inside the bar made his heart swell, not only was Charles good with his sister but Elenor adored him, although he find himself starting to feel jealous that his babygirl wanted to spend her time with the Monegasque driver rather than her daddy.

Pushing the jealous thoughts from his mind, he pressed another kiss against Nova’s temple before speaking. “So you wanted to speak about Juice? What's he done now?”

Nova placed another cigarette between her lips, taking a step back from Jax, looking up at him through her lashes as she fumbled with the zippo. “It would be easier to tell you what he hasn’t done,” she growled through the filter of the smoke,“the jerk is a waste of air.”

Jax cocked his brow, knowing that if he wanted to keep his balls intact he knew not to interrupt his sister when she was going off on a rant.

“I warned him, I fucking warned him if he screwed up once more then he is gone,” she spat, leaning against the brickwork of the building, taking a long inhale of the cigarette, “I went back to Charles’ room at the Lodge and the place was a fucking sty.”

“Leclerc’s room?”

“No dummy, the lobby of the Lodge,” Nova hummed, narrowing her eyes across the parking lot. Jax watched as she snarled to the person backing their bike into a parking spot. “Oh and he was no where to be fucking seen, probaly too busy at that stupid fucking weed shop.”

Jax let out a heavy sigh, running his hand across his face, “okay, leave him to me,” he nodded, pushing himself off the wall moving so he was blocking Nova’s view of Juice. “Now, what you are going to do is take a deep breath, forget about Juice and go spend some time with that man of yours.”

Nova scoffed at Jax, “Ce n'est pas mon homme, face de cul. He's not my man, assface,” she said, rolling her eyes, as he took the half smoked cigarette from between her fingers.

“You know I hate it when you speak French to me,” he huffed, like a toddler as he watched his sister crouch down grabbing one of the crates of beer piled by the doorway before slipping into the building.

Jax couldn’t believe it was only a couple of months ago where he had a similar conversation with Juice. But this was it, there wasn’t going to be any more chances. The Lodge meant alot to the club and his family so to hear that it was being turned into a dumping ground, severely pissed him off.

The only sound that was echoing around the empty lot was the crunch of the gravel under Juice’s boots. Jax tossed the cigarette in the metal bucket by the door as he narrowed his eyes at the Puerto Rican.

“Kitchen, now!”

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