#an asshole anon from a different fandom

[iamhereinthebg]

This may be a strange question but have you ever been bullied in the tbhk fandom? I am having a hard time here

Heya no worries at all for the question! This is an important thing and if you needed to have a place to say it I am happy you did!

I really hope people will be nicer to you :// There is never a good reason for bullying unfortunately it happens a lot on internet QvQ my only advice would be to block those people and/or delete anonymous asks for a while if people are just putting stuff as anonymous :///

To answer your questions, idk if it counts as bullying but I was the target of some stuff like that yep, and tbh I don't really know why. People can have the opinions they want but I will be honest in the tbhk fandom you like a character or a ship that is not 'what everyone in the fandom should like' and people start menacing you for no reason.

A lot of people in this fandom are kids who sometimes don't get what insulting people do. (and not only kids but it is one of the reason, I feel like a lot don't have 'internet basis' like not saying everything about yourself on twitter help.)

Which is also one of the reason I am taking my distances with anyone in this fandom because I had too many unwanted stuff like when I was just trying to be nice and answer messages. It's not because we are in the same fandom that we are bffs.

This is sad to say but yes I don't think you can just have fun 'fun' in this fandom anymore, people will make sure you have a hard time for no reason and honestly I am tired of people who are unable to understand that we aren't just bots on the internet and that Surprise! people have feelings wow

I hope you will be better but don't hesitate to take some time off the fandom a bit ^^ I am being overly dramatic here because I had some bad experiences (I've been in the fandom since the start of 2020 so welp) but a lot of people are really nice and I am sure you can make some friends too ^^ (I did too! even if a lot aren't in the fandom anymore, it's nice seeing mutuals from far away doing their lives)

[laurelwinchester]

Lol, some people are taking this IRL Dean bday party way too seriously (or they're being obtuse on purpose, hard to tell sometimes). I promise you babies, Jensen knows Dean is fictional, he just understands the audience he's marketing to.

it's also okay to, like....have fun. coming up with reasons to hang out and have meals with friends is actually what life is supposed to be. i don't think the spn fandom (any version of it) has ever understood that.

[jeonscatalyst]

So something I have been thinking since the beginning of AYS. I think JM and JK give themselves away. How someone can look at their behavior and not realize these two have more than a friendship/brotherly vibe. Before I go on a tangent, what I am I trying to say again 🤔. Ohh right. In the previews, we see JK and JM have a pillow in-between them as they sit on the couch while watching TV. Why the damn pillow in-between like it's so obvious! That hug when JM wanted JK to feel how cold he was, I mean. Just go ahead and proper. They crack me up. It's too late. We already know you are together. If they just acted normal 😅. To be honest, I don't blame them it's hard faking not being in a relationship.

Ah I have found my person!

Anon, I have been in this fandom for over 7 years and spent about 5 out of those 7 years being a Jikooker and all through my years in this fandom, I have seen many jikookers give different reasons why they believe Jikook are a together but not many people started seeing them as more for the same reason I did.

I have mentioned before that for me, it was never about the GCFs, the soft looks, the touches or any moments that could be described as soft or romantic or beautiful. For me it was always those moments that many Jikookers don’t like to look at or even talk about. The first thing that made me do a double take on Jikook was fetus Jikook. You see, I wasn’t always a shipper and I was one of those people who actually thought it was silly as hell that people could even believe that any of the members could be in a romantic relationship especially because of things like skinship which is the most common thing among korean men but one day I watched a long compilation on Youtube of fetus Jikook and my mind began to change. You see, when I watched that video and read comments many people were either mad at Jk for being an asshole to Jimin while others felt sorry for Jimin and some were mad that Jimin had to put up with all of that from Jungkook but one look at it and I knew that wasn’t normal at all especially because when I joined the fandom at the beginning of 2017, I spent alot of time reading their interviews and catching up on old content (somehow I didn’t really notice the fetus Jikook bickering or push and pull alot) but one opinion I remember having was that Jk kinda liked being around Jimin and hovering. So when I watched that compilation showing Jk basically being an ass to Jimin, that was the first time I thought “maybe shippers are unto something” because what I was seeing Jk do in the compilation was very conflicting with everything I had learned about Jikook and the opinion I had about them as a duo. I didn’t necessarily think they were the closest but I didn’t think Jk had any ill feelings towards Jimin.

You see anon, one thing I understood while being in this fandom is that, how people interpret or perceive other’s actions and words depends more on them than the people whose actions they are interpreting. Without certain experiences, it is almost impossible for one to understand certain things. Your culture, environment, people around, personal experiences and basically what you are used to, shapes the way you see the world and that is why one person could see a 9 while another person sees a 6. Some people have grown up believing that couples are always soft with each other or with couples it is always smiles and rainbows and roses, you know watching a lot of romance movies or fantasy will do that to you or even only experiencing those first stages of normal romantic relationships will trick you into believing such things. Some people don’t understand context and nuances at all and so they could never understand Jikook even if they wanted to.

It never made any sense to me that we saw Jungkook pushing Jimin away or shoving him in walls or ranking him last in looks yet this same person would choose to put blankets outside to sleep with Jimin at night, or this same person’s would go to cuddle Jimin in his sleep or this same person would be seen hovering around Jimin alottt and wanting to touch him or feel him up (fetus Jk was not subtle). Jungkook already knew that he got his comfort mostly from Jimin. He already understood that the reason he teased Jimin alot was because he really liked him and I think Jungkook’s occasional “bitchy” behaviour towards Jimin was him panicking and not knowing how to deal with Jimin who was obnoxiously loud about how he felt for Jungkook. Jungkook never hated being around Jimin or being touched by Jimin like many people would like to believe because if he did, he would never choose to go spend his nights with Jimin. If he did, he would never go to hug Jimin in his sleep or pile clothes on his bed to go sleep in Jimin’s bed. He clearly loved being around Jimin so how else could anyone explain his behaviour infront of the cameras?

Watching Bangtan, anyone would quickly understand that these boys don’t understand the concept of personal space when it comes to each other. I saw this video on X the other day and it made me laugh…

This is not even the most accurate example I can use but you see how glued they are to each other? Like no care in world. They shower together, sleep together, eat after each other, that is normal for them so explain to me why on earth Jimin and Jungkook would have to put a pillow inbetween them when they sit even though we know for a fact that being glued is literally like second nature to the members?

This is how Jimin and Jungkook give themselves away everytime because you can literally see that sometimes they get overly cautious in a bid to not give too much away but they don’t realize that by doing this, they are actually giving too much away because we know that the members usually don’t have any issues sitting even untop of each other. It’s just like I had once said that when you have nothing to hide, you feel as free as a bird but when you do, you start doing even unnecessary things not to come off suspicious. Why would they need a pillow inbetween them to just sit on a damn couch? If these two are just friends or bros why on earth do they need a pillow? If it was normal to see the members respecting each other’s personal space then we could just see this too as normal but we know that these same people seated right here are the same ones who have had their mouths on various erogenous parts of each other’s bodies so why?

Like you said, if jikook acted normal then I wouldn’t have ever suspected or thought that they are more than friends but the truth is that they don’t act normal at all and this is something everyone can agree on, regardless of whether they see things in a negative or positive way, everyone can agree that Jikook don’t act normal at all and it’s been like this since they were younger.

I have mentioned before that I could never see what taekookers see in Taekook because there is just way too much comfort in their interaction for them to be closeted idols in a romantic relationship. You never see any panic, you never see them acting as if they have something to hide. I have seen some taekookers say that they know that Jikook are not together because their skinship is usually very short or abrupt while taekook’s take longer and I was like ofcourse theirs would take longer because those two have nothing to hide the same way Jk’s skinship with any other member who isn’t Jimin takes longer and they seem more comfortable doing it because they are not worried about how they would come off because those actions are completely innocent. With Jikook, there is a panic and when they start going on at, it doesn’t take long for them to snap out of it and then you see them immediately stopping which sometime makes their interactions come off as awkward.

Imagine yourself in a secret romantic relationship where you are almost always infront of dozens of cameras and staff, who would feel 100% at ease in situations like this? That is why Jikook’s interactions sometimes come off clunky or awkward because of this while you never really sense this with any of the other members interactions. I can sit through any other duo’s interactions without feeling second hand embarrassment, shy or slightly awkward but with Jikook, I go through about 20 different emotions while watching them and that is how I know they are….different. So because not everyone understands the contexts or nuances, they would immediately see this as something bad while someone who understands the context and nuances in this situation expects to see this kinds of interactions. Many people unfortunately are not very smart because if they were, they would really ask themselves why Jk seems to hate Jimin’s touches so much (according to them) or hates being around Jimin so much (according to them) yet this same Jk is the one who voluntarily goes to knock on Jimin’s door everynight at 1am. Why did this same Jk choose to sleep on the floors outside their rooms with Jimin instead of sleeping with Tae or some other member? Why did this same Jk choose to spend majority of his nights and downtime with this person? Why did this same Jk pile clothes on his bed to go sleep in Jimin’s bed? Why did Jk keep going to sleep in Jihope’s room everynight? What was he doing with Jimin at 4am on his birthday after they had already moved out of the dorm and were living in personal apartments? Which one of you knows anyone who would do this if they really didn’t like someone and literally loved being around them? Also, notice how each and everytime we “caught” Jikook in positions where they never expected cameras or weren’t aware of cameras they were always glued to each other and Jungkook especially had no issues being in Jimin’s personal space?

This is one of those cases where someone either gets it or they don’t because it is kinda hard to explain and the truth is, to really understand these kinds of things, you probably need to have experienced something like this or atleast know someone very close who has.

Jikook as a romantic pair was never meant to make sense to alot of people because not very many people have critical thinking skills, not very people know how to piece tiny details together to really understand a situation. So often, people form opinions after watching one single piece of content without caring to look at the history of things. I saw a taekooker say that Jk hated Jimin’s music style because Jk said their show will fail if Jimin sang the OST he joked about singing and you could clearly tell this person is one of those who literally don’t care about context or history because everyone and their mama knows how much Jk enjoys and has always enjoyed Jimin as an artist and a performer and he has made it clear on several occasions just how much he loves the music Jimin makes.

Like I said, Jikook is not meant to be understood by everyone. If everyone understood them then that would mean they weren’t doing something right.

[thirstworldproblemss]

Fic: Closer

cowritten with @astroboots

Fandom:  Moon Knight Pairing:  Jake Lockley x F reader (x Steven, x Marc) Length:  5.6k words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings:  This fic contains explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, anal play, and anal sex. (That's it. That's the fic.)

Summary: Jake checks an item off his bucket list, and you both thoroughly enjoy yourselves.

Notes: Many thanks to @guruan who fixed our my extremely questionable Spanish (any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault) and whose deliciously debauched art is a never-ending source of inspiration. More thanks (and uh... oh god, sorry 🙈) to the poor anon who submitted the prompt that spawned this to Cici last Kinktober and had to wait a whole year to see the damn thing. And, of course, ALL my love to my darling cowriter and 🤡💖🤡 sister, @astroboots, who always makes writing a joy, and without whom this never would have been started, finished, or posted at all.

[ twp’s Masterlist  | boots' Masterlist  ]

Jake hasn’t spent a lot of time in the driver’s seat over the years. For a long time he only fronted on rare occasions. Life or death situations mostly. Those hair-trigger moments when the body is in critical danger and a moment’s hesitation is all it’d take for all three of them to wind up dead. 

Those times when things are too much for Marc or Steven to be able to handle? That’s when it’s Jake’s turn at the wheel. 

It’s why normally the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, in command of the body, is the source of imminent danger: 

The face of the man who has a knife pressed against the collar of his military uniform in the middle of a desert. 

A panoramic view through the windshield of a truck that is seconds from veering off a winding cliff-side road. 

A long-haired Jim Jones wannabe staring down at him along a glowing walking stick protruding from his own chest. 

But things have been different lately. For one thing, he’s been spending a lot more time fronting, and not just in dangerous situations. 

For another, he’s learning that there’s so much more world out there than he’d ever imagined. There’s Ben & Jerry’s peanut popcorn flavored ice cream, Saturday karaoke nights, Derby Girls and you. 

Always you.

You were just Steven’s girl first, and then somehow against all odds Marc got involved too, and now that Jake’s been allowed a taste, he's never letting you go. You’re his guide to the wide world,  the road map keeping him on the right route, the safe resting place when he’s tired. Su alma, his soul.

And right now you look exhausted. Your thighs shaky and trembling, matted hair glued to your forehead, all of you dripping with sweat and other things. Steven must have really worn you out before he ceded the front. 

Sweet, shy little Steven—Mr. Sunshine—who just fucked you seemingly within an inch of your life before he remembered that he needs to share. 

And Marc thinks Jake is the unhinged one. 

The punch of adrenaline that always comes with fronting is still running through his veins, and he’s already hardening at the sight of you on your stomach, ass up in the air on display for him, Steven’s come just beginning to drip out of you. It doesn’t matter that the body just came, it’s Jake’s turn now. 

He slides his rapidly stiffening cock through your slippery folds, nudging the head against your clit, you and him both slick and sloppy with Steven's come and your own wetness.

“Aaah – Jake,” you gasp sharply into the pillow.

You know it’s him. He doesn’t know how. You haven’t even turned around to look at him, but somehow you just know. You always know. It’s an uncanny magic trick that impresses the hell out of him every time.

Jake grips one side of your ass in his free hand, squeezing hard. You’re all smooth skin and soft flesh under his finger, your cute little asshole peeking up at him. You’d kill him if he’d called it that out loud. So he doesn’t. He bites his tongue, swallowing down the groan that’s simmering in his throat at the sight of you.  

He can't resist sliding his thumb over that little pucker. He barely even brushes over you when you let out a pretty gasp for him. His cock is fully hard now, and it jerks against you at the sound, so he does it again, just to see if you’ll make the same noise twice. You do. 

Then you moan, sharp and keen, and he has to pull back, hand sliding over his slick length once before he leans in and replaces his thumb with the head of his cock. Taking his time, he slides it along the curve of your ass before nestling himself snugly between your cheeks. He makes an absolute mess as he goes, smearing the shiny slick left by Steven all over your bare skin until everything is a glistening sheen under the dim light as he begins to thrust forward, sliding his cock between the valley of your cheeks. 

Jake's dreamed of taking you here. He wants to take every fucking hole you have, fill you up and cover you with his come until it's dripping off of–out of every inch of your body.

Mierda. Even just the thought of it has heat climbing his spine, and his cock jerks in his fist and spitting even more precome into the mess already covering your spine and the rounded curves of your ass. 

He thrusts against you again, fucking himself between your cheeks, and you mewl quietly, pressing back against him. Maybe he won’t even fuck your pussy this time. Maybe he’ll just stay right here and rub his cock on your gorgeous ass until he comes all over it. Add to Steven’s mess with one of his own. He’ll do it. And reach around and rub your clit so you come too.

Maybe if he can get you used to the idea of his cock rubbing against your ass, maybe one day you’ll let him put it inside too. 

"You can, you know," you mumble out into the pillows, and Jake freezes, heat streaking down to his balls, and he has to grip himself hard at the base to avoid painting your ass with his come right then and there. 

Shit, did he say that out loud? He’s pretty sure he didn’t. He must have heard you wrong. Or he misunderstood. You can't possibly be offering what he thinks you are. 

"You can try putting it in. I might ask you to stop if I don't like it, but..." you your knees slightly, and the move has your ass practically wiggling at him in temptation, "It feels good right now."

Jake's brain stalls out. His body flashes hot all over. The back of his neck is tingling. He squeezes the base of his cock so hard he thinks he might be in danger of doing permanent damage, but he'll be damned if he comes on your ass right now when he’s just been told he might get to come in it. 

Gritting his teeth, Jake breathes through his body’s urge to come, pushing down the near-overwhelming need to shove his cock into your tight little asshole immediately. He knows he has to prep you if there's going to be any chance of you enjoying this, and he needs you to enjoy it because he wants to be able to do it again (and again and again and...) 

Shit. He needs to get on with it, or he's going to finish before he even makes it inside.

Jake makes himself let go of his aching cock, leaves it bobbing and dripping in midair, and turns his focus on you.

Leaning closer, he uses both hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, and just looks at you for a minute, watching your body clench around nothing.

"You want me to fuck you here, sweetheart?" he demands, sticky thumb sliding down through the mess of your slick and Steven’s come to circle your puckered hole, almost but not quite touching it, "Gonna let me put my cock inside this tight little hole and fill it up with my come?"

You whine, your whole body shivering under him, and he grins, satisfaction buzzing in his veins when your hips cant further up, trying to get him to touch you.

It’s fucking adorable is what it is. He is starting to understand why Marc likes to edge you now. How could he not? You’re always so reactive and needy when you’re denied. You make it so fun to tease. 

Sliding his thumb down, he slicks it around and around, just to watch you whine and shiver and shift, hips chasing his touch. His dick jerks with every noise you make and every time your body visibly clenches.

As fun as this is, a bright delight humming in his chest at your every little reaction, Jake doesn’t have the patience to tease you for long. 

He’s not like Marc. El Jefe seems to have infinite patience when it comes to this, but it’s only a minute or two before Jake can’t wait any longer. He feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin if he doesn’t get inside you one way or another. So he stops, holding his hand still to let you “catch” him.

When you do, he sucks in harsh breath, heat punching through him as he watches you rub yourself against his thumb, heart rate spiking as you lean back, the tip of his thumb pushing inside just a little.

It's barely anything, but the feeling of you parting to let his his thumb slips inside, then squeezing him back out is addictive. He presses harder, wanting more. His thumb slides a bare inch inside, and his groan barely covers the strangled sound you make, body tensing under him. 

Sweat breaks out on his forehead along with the realization that he cannot fuck this up. 

"Alright, mi alma?" he asks, trying to sound sweet and gentle, but his voice, low and eager, betrays him. A starving wolf in a sloppy sheep disguise. He’s not fooling anyone, not himself and certainly not you. 

Reigning himself in as best as he can, his fingers close into a fist with tight tension blaring in every nerve. Then he unfurls his palm to pet his hand over your back and down your side to give your ass a gentle squeeze. 

“Do you  need me to stop?" 

"N-no," comes the shaky answer, and Jake thanks any gods who might be listening, "It feels a bit odd, but..." you squeeze around his thumb, hot and unbelievably tight, and Jake swears under his breath, "It’s a good odd, I think. Just– just give me a moment."

You shift slightly, clenching again, and his cock jerks and throbs like the nerves of his thumb have somehow been reattached directly to his aching length. He really fucking doesn’t want to come before he even gets inside you, but right now he’s not sure if that’s in the cards for him.

Then you push back against him, and his thumb slides in another half inch, and both of you gasp. He pulls out slightly and risks a small thrust back inside. He's rewarded by another gasp and a small moan, so he does it again, a little further this time, and this time the moan is louder.

Fuck, you look so good like this, ass all slick and slippery. Before he even knows what he’s doing, Jake leans forward, spitting onto the curve of your ass right above where his thumb is inside you. 

You jerk when it lands on your skin, and he likes that. Likes that even though he’s done it before it always seems to take you by surprise. Likes how his spit  looks on your skin too, shiny and slick as it slides down the crack of your ass to join the rest of the mess he’s smeared there. Likes that when he pushes it into your tight little asshole, it’s one more way that he can be inside you, make you a little bit more his in a way that will linger after he’s no longer with you.

You whine as he pulls his thumb all the way out, he spits again, hitting his target, directly on your pretty little asshole, then he presses in again, shoving more of his spit into you.

Like most things when it comes to how he feels about you, Jake doesn’t entirely understand why he likes this so much. It’s primal, somehow, a deep-seated need to mark you with himself–his spit, his scent, his come.

His cock is aching, throbbing in time with the way you clench every time he pushes his thumb into you. Jake can't stand it, has to wrap his free hand around himself, gripping as hard as he dares, and stroking slowly. He grits his teeth against how good it feels, red hot pleasure searing up his spine as he leans in to slide the head of his overwrought, leaking cock along your ass, right next to where his thumb is shoved inside. 

"You feel how hard you make me?" he demands, pressing himself against you, relishing the way you shift and moan again, body still squeezing around his thumb, but loosening with every passing moment as you relax. It also has the added benefit of his precome dripping down to lubricate things even more as he thrusts into you a little deeper each time. "Fuck, I can't wait to get inside this tight little hole. You gonna let me in, mi alma?"

"Yes, yes, Jake! Please!" you cry out, only partially muffled where your face is pressed into the pillows, and he damn near loses it again. Has to press his cock against you hard, almost to the point of pain as fire licks out along his nerves, threatening to send him over the edge.

"You want this cock in your ass right now?" he grits out, vaguely aware that he should probably spend more time prepping you, stretching you so you can take him easier, but he can't wait another fucking second.

He pulls back, pulls his thumb out, and you whine out his name Jake, Jake, Jake as you push your ass up and back, chasing his touch.

He looks down to see a blur of movement between your legs, and realizes that at some point you shoved a hand underneath yourself to rub at your clit.

It’s pure impulse. He doesn’t think. Before he even realizes what he's about to do, Jake’s hand flashes out, coming down on your ass with a sharp crack that sends your flesh jiggling in an all-too-appealing way. 

You cry out, sharp and high-pitched, but Jake knows from experience that it's a cry of shock, not of pain, and he quickly follows up on his advantage.

"Naughty naughty, sweetheart,” he scolds, “Who said you could touch yourself?" 

You freeze, obviously caught, and several seconds tick by where he watches approvingly as the mark left on your supple skin from the impact of his hand shades into a darker hue before you whine again, "Please, Jake. I need– I need–"

That's more like it. 

"Pobrecita," he croons to you, enjoying the way you relax at his gentle tone, "Do you need more?"

You nod into the pillow.

He leans in and smacks his cock against the same place his hand struck. You jolt, letting out the hottest fucking sound, so he does it again, and has to grit his teeth against the noise that wants to escape him at the sensation.

"You want this cock, mi alma?" he demands, voice harsh,  "You want me fuck your ass with it right now?"

"Yes. Yes, Jake. Fuck, please. YES!" you pant out, sounding as desperate as he feels. You’re pressing back against him, hips shifting so you can press that pretty little hole right against the tip of him, acting for all the world like you're going to fuck yourself back onto his cock if he doesn't give it to you fast enough.

It's a heady feeling, to hear you beg for him, and part of him wants to hear you do it again, and again and again. To leave you there, begging for him as you struggle to fuck yourself on him. Lucky for you, he is nothing like Marc. 

"All you had to do was ask, mi alma," he grates out as he begins a slow press forward, "All you ever have to do is ask, and I'll give you the world."

Your body yields to him, the head of his cock slipping inside, and he has no more words. Only a strangled groan to match your whine as you clamp down hot and impossibly tight around him.

A sparkling clarity descends, time dilating, stretching out the way it does when he's in the middle of a fight, and he can only be grateful because he's barely clinging to his composure by the tips of his fingers here.

One truth stands out above everything else: he can't hurt you. 

He has to go slow, keep control, make it good for you. 

Jake wraps an arm around you, fingers tangling with yours to rub desperate circles around your clit, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you relax slightly under and around him. Still he doesn't move, not sure if he can without losing it and pumping you full of his come right then and there.

It's only when your hips start to move, hitching forward against his fingers, and then back to fuck yourself a little farther onto his aching cock that he dares draw in another breath, dares to meet your movements with small thrusts of his own, fucking in a little further each time.

And you take him just like that, little by little. One slow press, one torturous inch at a time, until he's buried as deep in you as he can go. 

"Fuck. Jake," you gasp out, clenching hard around him, and he groans. 

He makes the mistake of looking down at where you’re stretched tight around the base of his cock, taking every fucking inch he has to give, and the sight hits him like a punch to the gut. His hips stutter forward involuntarily, and somehow you take him even deeper.

You make a strangled sound, clamping down so tight it borders on the painful, and he freezes, shuddering behind you.

"¡Mierda! ¿Estás bien?" he demands, has to stop and mentally scramble for the words before he can ask again in English, "You okay, mi alma? Shit, did I hurt you?" 

"N-no. I'm okay," you pants out in response, "You can– You can move, Jake. Please. Need you to mo–"

Before you even finish the sentence, he’s already pulling out and easing back in. It’s a tight fit, your body hugging him so snugly that nothing else would fit. 

Lento, he reminds himself, gently. Not too fast. Gritting his teeth against the demands of his body, he presses himself in and out of you as slowly and carefully as he can manage, and he tries to keep his fingers moving on your clit. His free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in until he’s sure it must be painful, but he can't make himself let go.

You whine, writhing under him as he inches back into you.

"Jake," you pant out, nearly sobbing his name, "Jake, Jake," and he slows further, worried that it's too much.

"No!" you cry out suddenly, and Jake freezes on instinct, holding still as you prop yourself up on one elbow, turning your upper body sharply to one side so you can glare at him over your shoulder, "Don't bloody stop. I want you to fuck me."

The words hit him like a blow, knocking the air out of him, and the determined look on your face stabs him right in the heart, his whole chest pulling tight. 

"You've been so patient, Jake,” you cajole him, “and it's good. Better than I thought it would be. I want you to stop holding back. Fuck my ass for real. Let go, Jake."

Fuck, he loves you so fucking much. The feeling is so big, he doesn't know how his body can contain it. He wants to move mountains, conquer the fucking world just so he can lay it at your feet. He'd give you anything. 

But the only thing you're asking for right now is his cock, and that he’s just as desperate to give you as you are to take it.

He pulls out slowly, one… last… controlled… withdrawal, then he slams into you so hard it drives you forward across the bed away from him. Digging both hands into your hips, he yanks you back to him, back onto his cock.

"Like this?" he asks as he pulls out and slams into you again,  "You want it hard? Like this, mi alma?"

"Yes– Fuck– Yes–" you gasp out between harsh thrusts, "Ja-Jake!"

His name breaking on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and it severs the last threads of Jake's control. He lurches forward with a roar, driving himself into your tight little ass over and over again, as hard and fast as he can go. 

The force of it knocks you off your elbows, flattening you into the bed, but Jake just yanks you back, repositioning his knees as your hands scrabble uselessly at the sheets.

Every thrust is deep and relentless, burying himself inside you as deep as your body will let him, giving you as much of him as you can take. Until his hip bones are pressed flush against your ass, until his cock is buried inside you to the root, until every inch of him is enveloped by you. 

He's so lost in the feel of you, he doesn't realize he’s fucked you all the way across the bed until you're precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.

Your knee goes first, slipping sideways off the bed mid-thrust, and it's enough to pull him off balance and send you both tumbling to the floor. 

Instinct takes over, and before Jake even has a chance to consciously register what’s happening, he’s already twisting, shielding your body so that he takes the brunt of the fall. He winds up hitting the hardwood ass-first before coming to rest with his head against the nightstand and you in his lap. 

Miraculously, you’re still connected, the force of the fall shoving you down on his cock farther than ever before, the feeling of being lodged so far inside your tight ass more than enough to overwhelm the slight pain in his tailbone from the fall.

There's a moment of stunned silence, then you start shaking, trembling in his arms, shoulders vibrating against him. He has half a second to worry that he’s fucked up badly enough to make you cry before a loud, bright sound rings out in the room. 

You’re laughing. Oh thank fuck.

"Oh my god, Jake! You just fucked me off the bed, quite literally. That's definitely a first!" you exclaim, twisting around to giggle down at him, eyes crinkled with amusement, mouth curved in an open, full-toothed smile. Jake has a handful of seconds to marvel at how beautiful you are before you shift in his lap, your body clamping down around him, and any last lingering shreds of control he might have been clinging to are gone.

Jake lifts his hips, fucking up into you, and watches your eyes go wide, a gasp falling from your lips.

It's not enough.

He grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rolls to his knees, and your gorgeous laughter dissolves into a broken cry of surprise as he drags you with him. The sound melts into a long drawn out moan that has the tip of his ears tingling. He can’t think, all he can do is keep going as he fucks forward into you again, his chest tight against your back as he forces you down onto all fours so he can keep fucking you. 

Fuck. The wood floor is hard and uncomfortable under his knees, digging into his kneecaps. He knows it must be worse for you with his weight bearing down on you, but he can't make himself stop. 

He's been dreaming about taking you this way for so long, and now he finally gets to. He knows, he knows he should stop and check on you, should move the two of you back up onto the bed where you'll be more comfortable, but that pretty little ass is stretched around him so perfectly, tight and hot around him, and his need is riding him hard.

Heat prickles from the tip of his fingers, spreading along the nerve endings along every patch of skin, fuck. It’s everywhere, expanding across the span of his chest, pooling in his abdomen, gripping into his lungs. He can’t breathe. Can’t stop. Can’t–

"Lo siento," he stutters out. "I'm sorry, mi alma. I can't– I have to–" Words leave him, and all he can do is pant against your neck as his hips jerk into you with increasingly sloppy thrusts. 

His end is approaching fast, whether he wants it to or not, and he barely has the presence of mind to shove a hand underneath you, rubbing desperate circles over your clit with fingers gone clumsy with need.

He has to make it good for you. He has to. He has to– 

Por fortuna, it only takes a minute for you to tense underneath him, sobbing out his name and tightening around him so forcefully that he can't keep thrusting, his cock locked in place by the tight clench of your body.

The lack of movement is enough to stave off his own orgasm, but just barely, the pleasure is overwhelming, teasing at the tip of his tongue as you shudder underneath him and you flutter rhythmically around his cock. It's so similar to being inside your pussy when you come, but it's different too. The pulse of your pleasure there squeezing him so tight it's nearly painful, but its so, so fucking good.

He breathes through it, pressing open-mouthed, panting kisses against the skin of your back. Does his best to keep his fingers moving on your clit, trying to prolong the moment for you, to draw you pleasure out as long as he can. He wishes he could see your face. 

Next time, he promises himself. Face-to-face next time, so he can watch every expression you make as he fucks you full of himself and see the pleasure break across your face when you come with his cock lodged deep inside.

All too soon, you're collapsing forward onto one elbow, your other hand shoving at his where it's buried between your legs, and he lets you push his hand away, planting his palm on the ground next to your head. 

You turn weakly to look up at him, pulling partially off of his dick as your body sags like you can’t keep yourself up. 

"Are you ready, mi alma?" he grits out, dimly aware that he's shaking as he braces himself above you, "Ready for me to fuck this tight little ass full of my come?"

"Mmm," you hum, sweet and contented under him, "yes, please."

That's all Jake needs to hear.

He slams his hips forward into yours, and the force of the first thrust knocks you forward off your elbow, your chest meeting the ground as you half-collapse under him. 

Jake follows you down without stopping, fucking into you hard. You sink a little further towards the floor with each thrust until you're flat on your stomach, but Jake still doesn't stop. He can’t, though he's sure he must be flattening you. Doesn't think he could stop if his life depended on it

He's grinding into you now with increasingly sloppy thrusts, burning heat burrowing into the base of his spine as he holds back his orgasm by sheer will, slurring out endearments against the back of your shoulder.

“Mi alma. Mi vida. Reina de mi corazón.”

And you are. His soul. His life. The queen of his heart. You are all of that and more. His gorgeous, perfect love, taking him, all of him, exactly as he is.

"Do it," you say from underneath him, and reality seems to recede, his vision tunneling in on your lips as they shape the words that just might kill him.

"Fill my ass up with your come. Fuck it into me as deep as you can. I'm yours, Jake."

Jake's orgasm crashes into him like an unexpected switch. Like a bomb going off. Like a knife sliding between his ribs, sharp and sudden. Pleasure sears though every inch of the body that has never felt more like his than it does at this moment, his forehead pressing against the warm skin of your back as he empties himself inside you in pulse after pulse of aching release. 

By the time the last shuddering spasm subsides, Jake feels wrung out like a bloody rag. He barely manages to avoid collapsing on top of you, mustering just enough strength to roll the two of you to the side so that he’s no longer squishing you. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he carefully pulls out, then pulls you back against his chest, curving his body around yours, and the two of you lay cuddled together like that for a long moment.

Eventually, his strength returns, along with the awareness that the floor he’s holding you on is both hard and probably not all that clean given Steven’s penchant for pouring sand all over. You deserve better. He gets up first, and carefully helps you rise to standing, waiting a moment to be sure you’re steady on your feet, before guiding you gently into the bathroom. 

When he flips on the bathroom light, the shadow of his reflection in the small round mirror transforms into a flushed, wide-eyed Steven who mumbles, “That was… God, that was… ” 

He doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. Jake’s not sure he could either, but Mr Sunshine doesn’t need to know that, so he just shoots the mirror a smug smile and tips an imaginary cap in that direction before he moves to turn on the shower.

You shiver a little when he steps away from you, so once the water is running, he wraps both arms around you, encouraging you to lean against him while you wait for it to get warm. You do, wrapping one arm around his waist in return and curling into his chest like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Jake just watches you. Tilting his head back and slightly to the side to get a better angle, he lets his eyes roam over your face, taking in the soft curve of your cheek, the eyelashes feathered against the soft skin there nod that your eyes have fluttered closed, the hand you’ve settled against his chest, right over his heart, the way your lips curve up into a slight content smile. 

You’re beautiful.

You always are, but right now, something about this moment makes Jake’s chest tight. It steals his breath as surely as if there were hands wrapped tight around his neck, choking the life out of him.  But instead of stealing his life, it’s as if you’re giving him more of it, pumping him full of its essence, filling his chest until he doesn’t know how his body can contain the feelings you inspire in him. 

The bathroom is getting warmer, steam starting to form on the mirror, but Jake is loath to relinquish his hold on you. You seem equally uninterested in leaving him. You’re snuggled contentedly into his chest, but the way you slump lower and looser with each passing second tells him that he needs to get you moving fast, before you fall asleep standing up. “Water’s warm,” he tells you, and you hum sleepily against his chest. It’s so, so tempting just to carry you back to bed, but he knows you’ll be happier if you’re clean.

“C’mon, mi alma. Into the shower. Vamos.”  He herds you gently backwards until you’re standing under the spray.

You hum sleepily up at him without opening your eyes, and he’s worried for a moment that he’s lost you to sleep already, but you stay standing when he cautiously releases you.

Reaching for your soap, he quickly lathers up a washcloth. The smell of the soap—the smell of you—quickly permeates the small space, and he breathes deep, letting the familiar scent wash over him.  He runs the cloth gently over your shoulders,  taking extra care with the still-visible bite mark one of them left there, then down over your chest. The skin of your breasts is soft and warm under his fingertips, and he’s half tempted to try for another round, but he feels strangely protective of your soft sleepiness.

Instead he dutifully rinses you off, letting the water cascade over your body. 

You blink your eyes open long enough to shoot him another warm, sleepy smile, and the contentment in his chest seems to expand, taking root and spreading with every breath until it feels almost too large for the small space of the shower. 

He steps out, reaching for a towel, and drys you off gently, before doing the same to himself with much less care.

Then he carries you back to bed and tucks you in, doing his best to straighten out the wrinkly covers before pulling them up over both of you. Curling his body around yours, he holds you tightly to him. There are a lot of things in this world Jake can do without, has done without. But this– you are no longer on that list.

In the cozy warmth of the bed with your body pressed against his, his eyes feel heavy. Jake never used to fight to stay in the driver’s seat, not once the excitement was over. But he clings to consciousness now. He wants to prolong this moment when his vision is filled, not with yet another threat to body, life or limb, but with something altogether perfect: the sight of you drifting off to sleep, your head nuzzling into the pillow, a slight smile on your face… safe. 

It’s the last thing he sees as he falls into a deep, restful sleep. .

Thanks for reading!

—

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[mourninglamby]

helloooo i just wanted to say i've been a fan of your work for a couple years now i think? & dsmp means a ton to me but i had to cut it from my life after the inconsolable differences stream cuz i lost all faith in the creators and the fandom to be normal abt the story. point being i've started looking at your art again and it is seriously so breathtaking and inspiring to me and is reigniting my love for dsmp (which is to say, reigniting my love for the few fans like you who turned it into something worthwhile). i learned so much about myself thru ctommy and made some of the closest friendships in my life in the fandom so it made me incredibly sad to think that time would only ever leave a sour taste in my mouth, and i'm super grateful to you for seeing the story for what it was, criticizing the things that deeply need to be criticized and recognizing the good parts and transforming them into something new. sorry if this is incoherent just wanted to say thank you and i hope you're well!! <3 take care

anon i think we had extremely similar experiences.. To be candid, I never would have even begun to understand what happened to me if I had not watched dsmp. I identify closely with c!Tommy because there hasn't ever been another character like him that resonates with me and my experiences. And I've also made most of my closest friends thru dsmp! There is a silver lining to everything, and I will forever be thankful that I found my most beloved companions and like-minded people thru dsmp.

However, people will always try to make you feel horrible about it, and undermine the importance of this character and the themes in the story because they refuse to try and understand. And the fandom itself is a monster, constantly proving it is not a safe space for victims nor those with more complicated mental health issues. But I want it to be! And I'm beyond grateful that I could provide some comfort for you in the midst of the incessant adversity plagued on us by anti-intellectual assholes. What I and many others do with dsmp is a reclamation of the abuse narrative. I want to explore c!Tommy and his relationships in ways the canon series could not, so I can give myself and others the ending that we deserved. One that upholds victims as survivors, not as means to an end. I don't know if it's appropriate to tack on, but I've been hard at work structuring how I will divulge from canon in Mortis Metamorphosis, and this has only fanned that flame... I'm so excited to share it with everyone.

anyways ..thank you x 1 trillion for this extremely kind message, I read it as I was walking home from work and it made me start crying like a babyyyy but it was cathartic af to know that when I post my work, it's not for nothing and it does reach people... Wishing you nothing but happiness and comfort anony, stay safe and take care of yourself... xoxo.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for telling someone they're a horrible person and making them relapse?

trigger warning: self-harm, suicide(?)

so im, like many teenagers online, an avid participant of fandom spaces and my current favorite is genshin impact. if you've ever interacted with the genshin fandom you may guess where this is going but i happened to find myself liking a ship that is the big nono ship in this fandom (aka the incest ship, kaeluc) but since i mostly stick to my space and don't really interact with anyone that doesn't already have content of this ship on their account id never gotten into any hot water over it.. until recently.

this person, ill call them rick, suddenly liked a bunch of my (non-ship related) posts. normal interaction, i didn't think anything of if and moved on. (i didn't even notice at the time, but they unliked all of the posts before what happened next, i assume as they realized i was a proshipper and didn't want to associate with me.) next thing i know, the same user is in my askbox, sending me the most vile, hate filled messages i have ever seen.

ok... no biggie. i delete the asks, block them and move on with my life. but it doesn't stop. i had never in my whole life received hate online, but now for the first time ever, i had a dedicated hater, sending me anonymous asks at all times of the day. death threats, dox threats, telling me to kill myself, calling me a degenerate and all that, all with the same consistent writing style. now, one could say that maybe this wasn't rick, and maybe not even all the same person but i really feel like this is the only reasonable explanation considering i have like 6 followers and my most famous post has 3 notes. i don't think im important enough to have that many haters.

so, i did the only thing i could think to do: turned off anon asks. then the asks started coming from random throwaway accounts. ok...turned off asks. then it was dms. turned those off too. THE FUCKING COMMENT SECTIONS OF MY POSTS.

dedication isn't enough to describe this. at this point it's actually becoming distressing to me and im considering closing my whole account cause i just wanna get away from all this. im 16, i don't have the mental capacity to spend all day policing my social media because someone wants me to die for liking fictional incest.

so i very reluctantly unblock rick and send them a dm. i very gently ask if they are the person who has been sending me asks/dms/etc and if they are, if they could please stop because it's become genuinely distressing to me and i just want to be silly on a website. they block me.

alright, im now out of options. everything on my profile is blocked at this point and i don't even want to post anything else so i just kind of leave the account behind for a while. when i come back, i discover that someone HACKED into the account and defaced the whole thing (changed pfp, deleted posts etc etc) so now im genuinely bummed. i go to rick's profile and guess who has been unblocked? i ask them if they can please answer my question. they don't answer but instead tell me i deserve everything ive gotten and i should choke for all they care.

i tell them they're a terrible person and go absolutely off the rails like the dumb, upset teenager i am. i didn't say anything particularly horrible (mostly i just tell them about how awful they've made me feel over fictional shit that really doesn't matter and how i just wanted peace) but i definetely wouldn't like to receive a message like that. and rick didn't either, because they blocked me.

well, since im sure you're wondering where this comes in, here's where i kind of feel like an asshole:

i continued to stalk rick's account on a different blog (because i was bitter. ok?) and they've been posting about how they relapsed into self harm because of a message they received from a stranger and how they've been crying non-stop and this is the worst relapse they've had in years and etc etc and i just got this pit in my stomach. this person's bio says they're 15! i don't want to ever be the reason a fifteen year old is hurting themselves! i've been feeling like a piece of shit ever since (esp since i also deal with sh) and i just feel like the worse person ever. i honestly don't know if i was just acting like anyone else and this was an unfortunate consequence or if i need to go pray for god to forgive my sins or something.

aita?

What are these acronyms?

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

A more detailed response is under the cut if you're interested/want to know what prompted this random ass post:

Just wanted to make a few things clear after I received this anon:

And that anon won't see this post unless they access my page from a different account because - you guessed it! - I blocked them. I have zero issues blocking people, but I don't do it without reason. (This is also assuming your blog doesn't look like a straight up bot, which I automatically block.) If you don't want to run the risk of being blocked by me, it's actually pretty simple:

Don't have shitty takes - like equating kinks to p3d0philia. If I had to guess, I'd say about 90% of my block list is people who have supported or run rampant with some bullshit kink=pedo narrative. This in particular is something I take issue with on a very deep level and will almost always block people over.

Don't steal people's work and/or pass it off as your own (this also includes "transforming" someone's original work without their express permission).

Don't engage with AI chatbots; I think they're weird, inherently devalue the work of human creators, and create a "content farm" mentality to fandom that fucking blows chunks. There have also been SO MANY instances of some asshole feeding a fic into a chatbot without permission that I don't think anyone can really engage with them without the probability that it involves to some degree a stolen work. If using chatbots is more important than avoiding something that has many times over negatively impacted a fic writer, then I don't think you deserve to read fic tbh.

Don't go around being a disingenuous, opportunistic asshole aka I have seen your username pop up several times piling onto whatever the drama of the week is. It's giving parasite. It's giving acting in bad faith. It's giving I need attention on the internet. It's giving clout chaser and trying to gain followers by riding the coattails of drama.

If any of those reasons/explanations seem extreme or over the top to you, you might want to reevaluate how you interact with creators on here. There's a reason why so many have been leaving the space entirely. Some have taken their works to AO3 because of the plagiarism issues or morality police brigading their page and asks (almost always on anon ofc). Some have decided to take down their blogs altogether because it's not worth it anymore.

There's a give and a take with fandom, and so many have lost the fucking plot. I'm not going to spend time, energy, and thought towards my fics just so some random asshole on the internet can try to dictate how and when my work should be used/enjoyed. I'm also not going to let someone who either is a bad person or acts like a bad person would have access to my shit. If you want to be a shitty person, you don't get the luxury of engaging with my blog or my works. Plain and simple. Tbh more people need to call out the bullshit or actively block accounts that do these things because it has created a really tiresome, hostile space.

I owe you nothing, anon, and I make zero apologies for curating my space and experience on this site. If I blocked you, it was for a reason.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

[itsblasttothepast]

Why do you like Max? He was horrible to Checo, the way his family spoke about him was so awful, I can't understand how Checo fans can like this guy

Oh anon, this is a very complicated question, because like many Checo fans in 2022, I also hated Max back then.

But it will be a long, long, LONG rant, so click under if you want to enter this particular rabbit hole:

Before they were teammates, Max was just another driver in my radar (as you are asking for my PoV, which is clouded as a Checo fan), nothing to notice there except a few interaccions with Checo; I was very surprised in Turkish 2020 because I thought Max would go for blood when Checo made him spin around twice (minute 1:20 of this video). But nope, at the end they even chatted and everything (a small Chestappen seed was planted since Monza 2017 and it had been growing with these interactions).

Anyway, when Checo became Max teammate, the contract was clear: He was there to succeed in what other teammates failed: helping Max winning the championship and take the heat of the team.

And he did, during 2021 they were working hard for that championship, and bonded really well, they seemed to get along great, share some sort of weird sense of humor and they were really nice to each other.

But in 2022, Checo thought that since he already fulfilled the requirement for 2021, he could fight for the championship in 2022. That led to straining the relationship with Max, and all that tension boiled over in Brazil. It was messy, and yes, Max was an asshole back then because they weren't fighting for the podium, and Checo needed the points. But what came after was the worst part because the declarations from both Checo and Max, and the Max's mom getting involved with the cheating thing... honestly I don't know how they managed to finish the season without killing each other.

Most Checo fans said that Max tried to make up with Checo in the 2022 Honda Racing Thanks day thing; all I noticed was Checo with the fakest smile he could put for the cameras. PR to the bone. I mean, they had Marc Márquez there to be a buffer, along with Yuki and Pierre, you could see it in the pictures:

They had Marc there to keep Max chatty:

You could see how far apart they were in the group picture (far apart for what they have us accustomed to):

(they left space for Jesus)

Also Max said he would help Checo in the last race of the season, but that was just adding salt to the wound.

Checo had just renewed contract, so we thought he would get the boot because obviously RBR was keeping Max, the one expendable was (and is) Checo. For some reason, they decided instead of doing that, to try and smooth over the situation. Checo apologized for his statements to the press and said it was all good with Max, and they had couples therapy.

No, really, they hired a 'mediator' or something like that, to help them regain the camaraderie of 2021. But instead, they fell in love and got really close. However, RBR had their plan B, bringing Ricciardo as the third driver in case things didn't work out (in fact, this is why we thought Checo was out of the team for 2023, we were looking options, seeing which teams needed drivers... wild times).

So, when Max did the Brazil thing, obviously Checo fans hated him and wanted his head, I remember people not even in the F1 fandom hating him (still butthurt about the world cup and the 'no era penal' thing). I particularly thought it was a dick move, but also kind of understood where Max was coming from. He was raised for glory, totally different to Checo who practically raised himself since he was 15. Checo and Max families are also vastly different, and the culture as well. So I hated him but not really?

So during 2023 I saw Max changing and being more mature, calmer, softer sometimes. He wasn't a bad person, he just made mistakes like any human does, and the pressure people put on him was insane! To me, Checo and Max balance each other really well, which is why they could work things out. If Checo could move on and be friendly with Max, I'm sure that we, as his fans, can do the same.

I like Max because he's genuine, and he learns from his mistakes. He is a little crass when provoked, but in general he is a nice guy; I don't know if you believe the whole 'Max is faking caring' that most haters say (they imply Max hates Checo and just tolerates him because he's forced), but I do believe Max can't fake this much this long.

Anyway, as usual, I went overboard with this, sorry anon, I wanted to give you context about why I like Max, and then filled this with my ramblings.

You can dislike Max anon, that's fine, just don't be hateful or claim to know better than them. Only Checo and Max know how is their relationship, but if Checo seems okay with him, that's all good in my book.

I think I haven't rambled this long in a while 😅

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang i used to never understand queerplatonic relationships (never judged!! just couldnt quite grasp the concept) until i read over your feelings/situation and i think i finally get it now and i realize i was in some sort of queerplatonic (borderline) situationship back in high school 😭😭 i never knew how to explain the relationship me and this dude had but i think that best describes it 🧍🏻🧍🏻🧍🏻crazy

the reason i always defend queer platonic relationships is because they are Not the same as friendship and i dont think its easy to understand why that is unless you have firsthand experience with the feeling.

(and this ask is not to u anon!!! but to other people in general. im so so glad that the term queerplatonic is helping u define ur emotions towards someone!!! )

like. i get it. i get why people equate these things. i get why people see the notion of deep platonic intimacy and associate with the idea with friendship. i get why the instinctual reaction to an unfamiliar relationship dynamic is seeing it as an annoying gen z semantics thing and choosing to invalidate it

but qprs are so very different from friendship and romance - both semantically and logistically no matter what anyone says. they are probably closer to something in the middle.

i think the reason people want these things to be the same so badly is because society at large is obsessed with defining relationships through hierarchy. and in that hierarchy - romance is always at the top of the totem pole so anything outside of that must be either Serious Platonic Friendship or Familial Love. our social view of love is very binary and rigid and a lot of this is proved in fandom culture itself.

on top of that it is also a matter of access. often, when people hear the term queer platonic they assume immediately that it's another - more inaccessible kind of friendship and that it's intentionally trying to put hierarchy on what is actually just best friendship which is not true. the label was never intended for that. it was coined by aroaces looking for life partnership and commitment most similar to romantic relationships but not.

in the first place, invalidating the harmless labeling of a relationship bc you find it annoying is asshole behavior lmao. but refusing to acknowledge that there are people who experience something that you dont and then overall insisting whatever their lived experience may be is false is insane asshole behavior shskjdfjs.

qprs are their own separate Thing. but they are relationships informed by commitment that is simply not normal in our society for friendship no matter how much people insist on it. the only time that kind of friendships is acceptable is usually between cis women which by definition makes that version of intimate platonic friendship inaccessible to everyone else.

and they are like every other relationship in our society in which the nitty gritty details can only be defined by the people within them. they are platonic committed relationships defined as being Queer in how they exist because the behavior and aspects in them would generally be considered unconventional to other, not queer people. and tbh!!!!! even to queer people sometimes fuck!!!!!

i get really defensive about this because its my lived experience several times over. in fact discussing it now just gave me a huge OHHH SHIT moment about my current situation

[chaifootsteps]

*sighs* Hello, Chai, this is Metallica Anon with a bit of a lengthy post. 🤘

It's been a while since you last heard from me. Mainly because I've been busy with life, getting sick with the flu earlier this month, and often times coming onto your Tumblr when the ask box is locked.

Last time you heard from me, I told you I was going to see Metallica live that weekend. I did... twice. I'll make the Metallica gushing brief. Both shows were fantástica and they had different setlists with no repeated songs. They even played "Leper Messiah" on the Friday show... which segways into the main subject of this rant.

Yep, I'm ranting about Viv again. More specifically, I have this issue involving her... *ahem*

Why can't I move on from her and her shows?!

Why am I still thinking about vile woman and her shit-shows? Why am I still reading fanfics and viewing or even commissioning fanart of her shows? Why am I still even dreaming about her shows?! It's like my mind is forever clouded in a thick red smog. I honestly can't fathom how I let myself become a fan of this demon drivel for four years. Granted, I did manage to break away, but the damage has been done. Right now, I'm feeling like Pearl from Steven Universe.

♪ It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on? ♪

I mentioned this to you before when S1 ended (which I still refuse to watch), but the one thing that Viv did that really detonated the H-bomb inside me was the twist of Vaggie being a former exterminator. I endured a lot of her shit, but somehow this was the final straw for me with Viv. Why? Was it because of its plot-hole laden ridiculousness? Was it because I perceived it as Viv sucking the fandom's dick by implementing fan theories into her show? Was it because it made me foolish that I didn't see this twist coming? I think the answer is all three, though mostly the fandom dick sucking part.

What's sadder is that I've had a similar experience with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Hell, it was late 2019 that I officially sent MLP:FIM to the glue factory while checking into the Hazbin Hotel. I guess history really does repeat itself. 😔

I know I've thanked you a lot, Chai, but I still feel the need to thank you for all you do. Frankly, you're the only person I feel comfortable talking to about my issues with Viv, despite the fact that we're likely thousands of miles apart. I'm actually terrified of mentioning anything Hellaverse related to my family or friends. Mainly because they would most likely not understand what I'm talking about, or I might inadvertently turn them into fans. 😬

Wowie-Kazowie, that was a load off of me being hard on myself. It's probably longest ask I ever sent you. Now I shall close this rant with a Metallica reference...

Viv, I dub thee unforgiven. 🖕

Hey, I get it, especially the dreaming part! It's annoying as hell, but you can't just switch off something that meant a lot to you...not when the quality dips or when the creator turns out to be an asshole, not even when it hurts you. The love stays with you forever, like HPV.

That's awesome that you got to see Metallica twice, though! At least the universe threw you that bone to make up for it.

[dangerousduckcloud]

Okay, I didn’t plan to get seriously involved in this fandom, but I just wanted to initially enjoy only the written work. Like a break from the information load from a familiar fandom, by reading something unfamiliar and random. But there is a small problem. Now I'm wondering what's really going on with the characters in the canon 😭

Do you happen to have any advice on where to start reading/watching this whole story with "batfam"? 👀

🍞 anon

I've no idea, hope it was helpful, have a lovely day 🤝

Jokes aside, I rarely read the comics (even though I totally want to), so I can't be of much help regardless of canon. However, I've been in the fandom for quite a couple of years already and I've noticed people tend to agree on something: DC stands for Disregard Canon, because apparently even the writers tend to ignore facts that've been laid out already.

Not to mention that with the amount of several Earths with different stories, 'canon' stuff will vastly vary from one universe to another.

With that being said, if you want to start learning more about the Batfam from official sources, I will recommend watching the following movies/tv shows Batman: Under the Red Hood (to learn about Jason's backstory)

Batman: The Killing Joke (to learn about Barbara's change from Batgirl to Oracle)

Batman: Year one (As the title mentions, the first year of Bruce being Batman)

Son of Batman (Bruce discovering he has a biological son)

Batman vs. Robin

Batman The Animated Series (this is more to learn about Batman's Rogues and how he came to adopt Dick and Tim/Jason [they gave Tim Jason's childhood for some reason], but as mentioned it's mostly focused on his rogues and not so much on the batfam.)

I will mention that mostly everything animated makes Bruce be kind of an asshole to his kids (except for BTAS), AND, they rarely add his kids if it's not Dick or Damian.

Now, on something completely focused on the batfam (and Bruce not being an ass), you can read "Batman: Wayne Family Adventures" on webtoon, which as the name mentions, it's the adventures of the batfam.

There are a lot more of shows and movies to learn more about Batman and the DC universe in general, so if you wish to learn more, I'm more than happy to recommend more stuff 👐

[kaddyssammlung]

Im the stc lore anon. Im very aware of the old interviews. In fact thats exactly part of why i get so frustrated with the fan interpretations of lore. Because its one of the things in my view that debunks the romance about sleep theories. Its just very frustrating feeling so strongly about my theory the fan lore is not canon while seemingly most of the fandom assumes the fan lore is absolutely 100 percent canon and just needs some more puzzle pieces to unluck the True Story. I used to believe the fanmade lore, but i no longer can do so especially when ive seen various bits of concerning behavior in the fandom where i think people take it wayyy too far. I think the only "canon" interpretation of the lyrics is the real person behind the masks life story, otherwise theres no "canon" and we are supposed to do whatever we want. But i think things have just gotten wayyy out of control with the its about a romance with sleep theory. What makes me actually hate it is how much people insist the people on stage are "characters" (i regularly see disclaimers saying "dont worry im just talking about the characters not the real people" when i really dont think they are "characters" in the way people think... this is not an anti fanfic/shipping/headcanon about real people stance btw i dont care about that as long as you dont go too far, i just dont like the insistence theyre "characters" because that feels so dehumanizing) and how rude people are if you dont agree with the fanlore (the vitriol aimed at alternate interpretations is really disgusting, especially the "why are sexualizing the lyrics, youre a bad person" crowds vitriol and insistence theyre the Good Fans while if you dont agree you deserve awful things). Otherwise, i just get *personally* annoyed with how often i come across the "its totally canon that its about sleep theories" when i dont want to *personally* hear those theories at all. I hope im making sense, and maybe im being an asshole in how im expressing my views idk. I just really feel like an outsider in this fandom and get so happy when i come across people who actually agree with me because it makes me feel less alone and like im not stupid or whatever. Just have fun, let the music mean something special to you, and remember the band (and their fans for that matter, going back to the vitriol thing) are human beings, thats what ultimately matters. I just think the lore as the fans see it has gotten into concerning territory. Wont leave any more anons about this for now because i dont want to drag this out more, i just saw your replies/post and wanted to respond in hopes what im trying to say will finally come out right (im not always the best with words, im very blunt, im very opinionated, etc)

Good Morning or Guten Morgen or Happy Timezone

I get your point and I don't think that you're an asshole.

I think you are struggling with something that many struggle and the fans that you call out also struggle with that: it's acceptance. Or accepting what is; in that case it's fan's who act a certain way or have different opinions or see things in a different way.

Acceptance is a mastery. It's something that is very hard to achieve.

Your situation reminds me of something that I could not accept for a long time in that fandom. So I'm going to talk about that.

This will probably be a long post so I'm hiding this and also mental health topics will come up.

I always had this assumption that everyone could see what I see when I look at Vessel. I'm talking concerts photos and “peeled Vessel” and the things that get revealed when the paint comes down. To me his scars are one of the few things that I can observe and so can everyone else, right?! There are so many even the ones from a certain attempt on both his right and his left forearm.

Well...right?! They are right in your face....

No! They are right in my face. I got into weird arguments about this topic. Which is a weird thing to argue about because this topic is a very painful one and also a strange one. There is a giant stigma around it. There are even “mental health professionals” on YouTube who refuse to talk about that topic and pretend that it does not exist because YouTube does not like these topics. It's a weird topic.

But it was exactly that what got me into the lyrics so much. I wanted to figure out the story behind what I could see.

All I found was myself and the parts of me that I denied that even existed. I stopped searching for the story and started to face myself instead.

I found a great new spiritual teacher because of that. She teaches acceptance and also sacred neutrality.

It's been almost a year now with her teachings and me finally accepting that not everyone can see what I see when I look at Vessel.

There will always be humans out there who call all of this an assumption. To them he did not self-harm and does not have scars from a certain attempt. To them that's an assumption while for me it's a fact.

Those fans are not worse then me and I'm not better then them. I can accept that they just have a different view on everything.

It's the same with lore interpretations or the way that some treat them in a (your words) dehumanizing way.

I can accept all that I just don't read it or interact with them. I let them have their view on things and I have my weird view on things.

I argued with fans that said things like: I don't even like their music or listen to their music but....

They are a thing, too btw.

When it comes to Sleep btw. To me it's an entity. They are very real btw. I learned how to deal with them, too. But I can totally understand that many humans out there just don't get topics like entities or idk...I mean I saw fairy-like beings right in front of me one day. 99% of humans would probably just say that I just made this up. I can understand that or rather I learned how to accept that.

When I first heard about Sleep I thought about that day and the fairies. I just thought...maybe that guy is a bit weird like me?!

We all had different experiences that shaped us. And also some fans really are just 14.

One of the reasons why I left the big Discord for example was because they allow all ages. I had an argument with a nine year old! That's when my alarm bells came online and I thought to myself: no...not okay! Some fans act a certain way because they are actual kids.

Like I said....I found a place within me to accept all that.

But it took a lot of facing myself to find that acceptance. And it's a process that is on-going.

Maybe this helps you...maybe not....maybe it clarifies something...maybe not.

I'm learning everything from her btw. It's energy work....energy work means you work with your soul, your higher self, higher dimensional beings....all theses things.

One thing that I forgot....accepting something and agreeing with it is not the same thing. I can totally disagree but still accept that something.

[doublejango]

how do you allow yourself to write without becoming depressed by the whole process?

Hopefully my answer will be enough, but if you need to ask follow-up questions man, by all means, feel free.

When it comes to writing for RP, I don't get depressed by the whole process because I love it. I really, really love it. I may be ungodly slow, and definitely try my partners' patience when it comes to that, but I love it. I love reading people's replies, love writing my own. I love reading other threads that have nothing to do with me. I love reading other people's headcanons. Or when a crazy magic!Anon happens, like when Lucid ( @brokendreamscreation ) was turned human and just landed splat into the forests of the Pacific Northwest, I adore trying to keep up on that. I often can't, just because I am too busy during the day, but whenever I catch a glimpse? It's wonderful. Or, although they're someone who is pretty busy with university, when @aroyaltailor pops on and mentions something about their muse, it makes my day.

RP is about the writing for me, but also a lot about the people. I just really like seeing people happy, being part of their fun, even if a lot of the time I am just the audience cheering them on. There's nothing depressing about that to me. The hardest part, what does make me sad, is trying to choose well when it comes to mutuals. I want to follow everyone back, but know that I can't. If I can tell that we're not going to mesh because of differences in rules, or if someone just swamps the dash with endless content that's going to make it way too hard for me to see other people's posts (nothing wrong with that! it's just a difference in styles and priorities), I have to regretfully just not follow, or not follow back. I always feel like an asshole for that, not gonna lie, especially when they have already followed me. I'm not mutuals-only though, so in theory if someone wanted to write together and we weren't mutuals? I would absolutely be on board.

Writing doesn't depress me because coming here, even when it is hard, is an escape, a happy place. I was depressed the other day when I couldn't make sentences make sense--they all felt so slippery--but that was the fresh concussion messing with me, causing its own depression, not something resulting from the writing process. But even with that? I am so lucky, so fucking lucky, to be blessed with just the kindest damn mutuals, who have been so supportive and sweet even when I was feeling useless because of the concussion. There are some really special people to me, who even when they are posting with someone else entirely, just seeing them pop up on the dash gives me that little spark of joy that nothing can snuff out, like @botanikos and @visage-of-hell. There are people who know their muses backwards and forwards, who manage to take characters that a lot of the fandom sometimes seem to ignore, like @moxxietude who has just absolutely taken Moxxie and breathed so much life into him, and who could definitely convince me she was part of Viv's team if she chose to, her writing is that solid, that incredible. I just, like?? Fuck, man. And @poisonedspider is a fucking babe--Strode you're magnificent, don't fight me on this--and @infxnatum is one of those unsung heroes of the RPC, who will always go out of his way to send people messages, even when he doesn't get love in return. I feel like somehow, I landed in the best fandom of all, surrounded by the best people? And like I'm being a monster for not @'ing everyone, I am so, so sorry. I know the natural inclination is to feel left out but please, please, I love you fuckers, don't feel left out, I am just rambling so much and realize I need to end this. And just. Yes.

So, TL;DR?

It doesn't depress me because I am surrounded by the most wonderfully uplifting people, and I will do fucking anything for this fandom, I adore you guys.

And if you meant writing as in the writing I do for work--I am really lucky in that the majority of my content is queer, so I get to roll around in feelings and love for my own community. There are occasional non-queer things, like a short story here or there, or a random zoom lecture I was paid to give, or contract pieces--usually articles, always under dry af NDA contracts--that kind of suck sometimes, but being able to produce content for my community gets me through the hard times <3

(Also, I fight with depression constantly, so writing doesn't need to serve depression up to me. We're bros by now, and constantly knocking each other around).

How about you though, are you like--are you doing okay? Are there points you want to talk about? You can IM me, friend, always.

[orionsangel86]

You know, I thought we were done with the ageism in fandom thinking that its purely for teenagers? Because it doesn't help anyone to have the attitude of this (now blocked) anon. People don't stop having passions and being fans of things just because they get older. Fandoms thrive BECAUSE older people put in the effort to MAKE them thrive. Do you really think that 100k word perfectly written epic fanfic that you adore so much was written by a 16 year old? Because I guarantee it was more likely to be written by a 35 year old mother of 2.

That amazing cosplay of your fave character you saw at a recent comic con that took phenomenal skill and probably a good deal of expense to look perfect wasn't put together by a 17 year old high schooler, it was perfected through years of passion into a hobby that more than likely required a full time job and a savings account to afford.

That amazing fanartist who has the BEST art of your OTP that captures their likeness in a really gorgeous style? They weren't born with that talent. It takes years to develop a personal art style, and capturing a persons likeness in art is a skill that has to be nurtured. The best artists are the ones who've had years to develop their skills. They aren't school kids. I have had mutuals on this site for a decade now and I have seen how much their art has improved and become absolutely beloved. These are people who at their youngest are in their late 20s now. Most of my mutuals are in their 30s, some of the best fanfiction writers I know are in their 40s and 50s. The meta writers I know are also in my age group. Hell, do you think teenagers run AO3? You'll be surprised just how many "old people" make the best fanworks. If you removed them from fandom spaces, I guarantee you would remove most of the talent, because no offence to you kids, but that talent is something that is nurtured over time, and time and aging go hand in hand i'm afraid.

The people who make fandoms what it is, the ones running events, pouring themselves into analytical posts, providing the best fanart, coming up with the amusing memes and textposts that go viral? Do you REALLY think they are all school kids? Fandoms are made up of PEOPLE, and newsflash assholes, people AGE.

This attitude always amazes me. There isn't an age limit in fandom. This isn't fucking Logan's Run (bet you the kids won't understand that reference) and honestly if these kids genuinely think they need to give it up and quit at a certain point in their future I just pity them.

Fandom thrives because of the older people that have nurtured it for years and carved out a space where younger people can enter in comfort and safety. Which are only possible BECAUSE older people built online fandoms and continued to put in the work to keep them going. If we all had to stop caring and leave fandom at some specific cut off date, the fandom landscape would be a vastly different space - and probably a lot worse for being predominantly run by hormonal teenagers - heh, I guess it would be a lot more like TikTok and we all know how dreadful TikTok has been for fandom so far. If nothing else that alone proves my point.

At the end of the day, no one can stop the passing of time. Even the horrible children who send adults nasty anons. Eventually, they will be the "fandom elders" and receiving their own anon hate from a future generation of brats, I personally can't wait to be the very old lady laughing at them when that day inevitably comes.

[lvnesart]

different anon but a simple no would've sufficed... you should probably just put 'kaeluc shippers dni' on your descrip or pinned or smth if it bothers you that much. otherwise most peoplr would not assume the boundary is so strong it applies to non related art. (i'm not even a kaeluc shipper i just think we should be clear & civil with each other)

Do you think that's the first time I've been asked? If im civil and clear, then its taken as invitation from people to be assholes on my art. It has literally happened recently??? Come on now, this isnt my first fandom with a popular incest ship

Just don't tell me you ship it cause I don't care in the first place until you bring it up

Also, what in the world do you think the familial kaeya & diluc in my bio means? I literally want yall to block me??? I'm not for you??

[elvisabutler]

What about reader who's the on the costuming team for Elvis, and is put in charge of making and tailoring Austin's costumes. As time goes on Austin low-key starts sexting her in the outfits, starting with something like "am I wearing this right?" and needing to be shown how to tie a crop top in the baby blue outfit to "it's feeling a little tight in certain areas and I think i desperately need a tailor ;)" in one of the Vegas Jumpsuits.

clothes make the man

summary: austin butler is an asshole. austin butler is attractive. you wish both of these things were not true together. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: asshole! austin butler x female reader word count: 4193 i don't know what came over me i thought this was 2k before the oral but apparently not! warnings: austin is an asshole. austin being a bit of a manslut. austin calling the reader a slut. generally speaking there's a bit of derogatory language. talk about p in v sex ( unprotected ). talk about creampies. inappropriate use of costumes. brief austin x olivia mention. brief mention of vanessa. slightly unwanted in the beginning sexual advances before there's a 180 about them. oral ( m receiving ). talk about cum eating. fade to black p in v sex ( unprotected ). swallowing. i think that's everything. author’s note: so first off anon, thank you for this prompt! i had actually considered telling you that i couldn't do it because it's a tricky one to do without erring a little too much in sort of an unwanted sexual advances way ( at least for me ) but i think i managed to strike a healthy enough balance. shout out to @blurredcolour, my lovely graceland queens and @eliseinmemphis for being cheerleaders. but especially elise for screaming HOW IN THE FUCK ARE YOU SO GOOD AT ASSHOLE AUSTIN. to which i say, i do not even remotely know because i'll remind everyone i pretty much write him as a damn puppy of a man. hell that's one of my tags for him. though this was toned down from attempt number one. that one had boot licking in the notes. apologies if this isn't your cup of tea but i do hope you enjoy it anon!

There is something uniquely attractive about Austin Butler, something that makes you forget that you really shouldn't get involved with him. You've noticed this from the girls he flirts with, the extras he flirts with and takes to his dressing room like he actually was Elvis Presley in his prime hoe days. You've noticed this in the way he managed to charm the actress playing Priscilla- Olivia- into sleeping with him at least once or twice. You've noticed this in the way that despite knowing you need to keep thing professional and that you've seen him be a complete and utter ass to the girls who don't suit his needs any more- that he's finished with- you still flirt with him. It's easy enough, you have to be up close and personal with the man, making sure Catherine's designs fit him correctly and that he hasn't put on weight or lost too much. You know the exact level of tightness that needs to exist to make these costumes feel as if they're on Elvis Presley, not on Austin playing Elvis Presley.

"If you wanted to be this close to me you didn't have pretend my arm's gotten longer." Austin says midway through you sliding his arm through a leather jacket. "It fit yesterday, you just wanna feel up my muscles."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You feel your lips purse even as you feel your body getting warmer at the insinuation. "I'm just doing my job."

"Your job is feeling me up and staring at me. Yeah, you do a great job at that." He nods, looking down at you where you're pulling down the front of the jacket, testing to see if it needs to be let out a little for a different drape of the fabric. "Careful, get much lower and-"

You roll your eyes and move to stand up. "I don't feel you up or stare at you any more than I did with Kelvin or Alton or Kodi or Oliv-"

"Little Livvy! Oh- I didn't even realize you swung that way, I'm sure she'd love to have a-" You pull yourself back up to a standing position and place your finger on his lip as if to shush him.

"Don't even say the next words, Mr. Butler. I'm not trying to hit on you." Not- technically- or at least not in these circumstances. It's not as if you wouldn't do it if given the opportunity. But that's not necessarily something you feel like he deserves to know when he's being this much of a pain in your ass.

His eyes focus in on your finger on his lips looking cross eyed as he does before he raises an eyebrow and nips at your finger with the biggest smirk you've ever seen. Your first instinct is to pull away and hold your hand because for a nip his teeth are surprisingly painful. You stop yourself though, and instead just roll your eyes.

"I know that probably works on every other girl, but unlike some people, I'm a little more professional. Try again." Your eyes run from his shoulders to the bottom of his pants, taking note that the hem is a little too high in the leg and making a note in it in the back of your mind to fix it once he's out of the clothes. "Strip, Mr. Butler."

In a second you realize that was the wrong word to say when you hear Austin chuckling and you just sigh as he pulls off his pants and jacket and tosses them at you. "You want me completely-"

"I want you to get your street clothes on and leave, Mr. Butler." Cutting off whatever words he planned on saying and shooting a glare at him. "I don't have time for this."

"I'm the star of the movie, playing the Elvis Presley, I think everyone would forgive you for taking a little extra time with me." He watches as you stand up, grabbing some needles to mark where you need to adjust things. It's easy enough to pull on his clothes and walk up behind you as you're too focused on your work to notice him until you feel his warm breath against your ear. "You need my measurements to be exact. What better way than feeling them firsthand? Feeling how they rest in your hand. In your mouth, in your-"

You can't help the way your body shudders involuntarily at the warmth of his breath and the way his lean body is pressed against your and you swear you can feel Austin's delight at your reaction despite not hearing a bit of laughter. He probably has that stupid little smirk he perpetually wears around the set, acting as if he's God's gift to acting. It always makes you wonder if he's always been like that or if exposure to Ms. Mad About Covid Ruining Coachella is what made him this way. Or maybe it was just him taking on the role of a man who might have been a good man but was also supposedly the cockiest womanizing bastard on the planet.

"Mr. Austin Robert Butler. I'm finished with you today. Go run your lines or do movement stuff with Polly. I'm-" A shaky breath leaves your mouth. "I don't need any extra time with you today."

Sure enough when you look up from the pants and into the mirror you see a smirk on Austin's face and see him tilting his head just sow almost like he's studying you before he pulls out a sheet of paper from his jean pocket and moves to set it down on the pants, making sure his arm brushes against yours. "Here's my number if you need it later tonight, then. Because I'd hate for you to get in trouble with Catherine over something going wrong with the costumes."

"I'm throwing this away." Your voice is smaller than you mean it to be but trusting yourself to say the statement loudly feels like something impossible in this moment. It feels like if you do try and get any louder he'll call you on your bluff, tell you that you won't be throwing it away because you want to talk to him, want to hear him tell you all about how he figures you want to have him bend you over this vanity and fuck you. That won't do though, so you try and stay quiet as can be. "As soon as you leave."

He tries to meet your eyes again in the mirror before shrugging. "Your job, not mine." Your job at stake is what you swear he means and it has your eyebrows furrowing before he breathes one final sentence in your ear. "Relax. Wouldn't dream of getting you fired."

He leaves as if he didn't drop a bomb on you that you hadn't been thinking about, that he didn't tease the idea that maybe he'd try and get you fired. He- he might be an asshole but that was coercion in a way that even the biggest of assholes wouldn't do, let alone someone you could swear had to have something going for him. Still, you can't help the way you lean over the pants and stare at the number he left, frowning just slightly as you do. You should throw it away- you should and yet you don't.

You don't and instead you text him that night and the night after and the night after until you develop what has got to be the strangest professional and personal rapport you think you've ever had with someone. You have the night off, it's before a shoot that you know is going to run him, Catherine and yourself ragged but Baz understands that despite the deadlines you all have to meet that a rest day is in order. Usually when Austin has one of these days off he's silent, too busy- you figure- fucking some other woman and you try and not let the jealousy twist in your gut at the idea. However, tonight is different and for reasons you don't pretend to understand you are interrupted from your binge watching session of a show to a notification from Austin asking you what you're wearing. There's a heat that swirls in your lower half, drifting from your stomach down to between your legs and it takes you a minute to answer. A part of you wants to say something cute and sexy but you know he's just asking this to mess with you- to mess with you and mock you for dressing up when you're not with anyone. So you tell him the simple truth of a ratty t-shirt, you don't clarify on the state of your underwear, figuring he'll fill in whatever blank he wants. After about a minute there's a simple text of pic?

Austin Butler is not trying to sext you, you are hallucinating this, a consequence of too much wine and not getting laid since that one lighting guy like a month ago. You don't respond for five minutes only to get another text from him, "wanna see." Wanna see what? You? The ugly t-shirt you have on? You take another minute before you take your best selfie showing off how threadbare the shirt is and making sure your lower half is covered by a blanket. His next response that follows is a voice memo that you shouldn't listen to but you do.

"That's practically see through. I can see your nipples poking through it. You cold, Y/N? Or wanting to tease me?" His breath is shaky in a way you only identify with someone playing with themselves and you can't help the way your hand starts to move down your torso and in between your legs. "You don't have any panties on. Fuckin' slut, know I'm gonna text you and knew you had to take a pic and you don't put fuckin' panties on. You hear me, babe? Fuck, should get you to come over here, tell Catherine I need to fix a costume for tomorrow, bend you over my bathroom counter and fuck you. Make you go back to your apartment with my come dripping down your legs. Bet ya got your hands in between your legs. Wish it was me helping you. Fucking you through this."

The words he says start to be drowned out by the rush of your heartbeat before you realize the recording has stopped and that you've got five more messages from him, each talking about how his hand isn't a match for how tight your pussy is even if you fucked the lighting guy, it's been long enough. How his spit isn't anything like how your saliva would be around his cock and how he's made a mess of his pants and torso and how you should be in bed with him to lick it off to clean him up like you make sure those boots of his are clean for the costumes.

You come harder than you have in years and don't respond. He doesn't say anything that next day and yet you can't help the way your eyes avert themselves from his when he catches your gaze. It goes back to normal, you think, with your rapport edging toward fond on your end maybe fond on his or at least as fond as he gets with anyone. True mystery of the ages, do assholes actually treat anyone fondly or is everyone just a means to an ends with them? You've yet to solve that specific mystery when it comes to Austin even if you think you may be inching closer.

That is until he texts you while you are sick. It's not COVID but as a precaution you stay home only to get a picture of him in Elvis's robe circa 72 or 73, half open revealing his underwear and his cock just there- it's not erect but you see the length of it soft and the girth of it soft and hold back a whine even with your runny nose. His text with it is a simple "am I wearing this right" like he doesn't know all he has to do is shut the damn thing for the scene or that he doesn't know how much seeing him like this feels like a cruel tease.

It takes you a good five minutes- or maybe ten, the runny nose is making your brain fog something fierce, before you manage a response.

"Tie it up. Loosely. You have it too loose, AB." AB because Mr. Butler feels too formal but Austin feels too intimate and you're trying to not think about how you wish you were there, how you wish you could see his cock stand to attention in that outfit. You take a sip of your water as you hear the ding of your phone telling you that you have another message, this time with Austin having it tied up correctly but somehow his underwear has shifted down just enough for you to see the hair on his pubic area and you have to shut your eyes for a moment. He doesn't say anything else but you at least give him a thumbs up in response followed by a plea for him to pull up his underwear. You don't hear any complaints the next day when you come in though the second Austin sees you he's decided that despite you still being a bit under the weather he needs to crowd behind you reminiscent of that time with the pants.

"Didn't realize you were looking so low, babe. Sure you don't want to have fun? See what it feels like against that skin of yours?" His arm slithers around your waist for a moment before lifting up your shirt and playing with your the skin of your stomach. "Might even clean up whatever mess I make on you while you clean up the mess on me. If you're good." If your knees buckle a little you don't notice as he grips your waist a little tighter. "Oh, there she is, all I gotta do is tell you're a good girl to make you admit you want me? But you gotta earn me saying that. Have to stop being so frigid, baby."

"I'm not-" You shake your head. "Let go, Austin. I have work I need to do and you've- I'm still sick. So get out of this room."

He opens his mouth to say something before pursing his lips and giving your waist another squeeze before pulling away and sneering as he waves. "Just so you don't get me sick with whatever one of the guys you fucked gave you. Bye, Y/N."

Later on your mind wonders how he knows you fucked someone else on the crew and you choose not to dwell on it just this once. In fact, you choose not to dwell on how Austin seems to be keeping his distance physically even if he keeps practically sexting you images of him in costumes as you recover until the day he's in the blue suit and Baz has put you in charge of taking pictures. Except Austin can't seem to tie his blue suit correctly and you find yourself on your knees batting his hands away so that you can get the proper angle you can't manage standing up. Your eyes stay focused on the knot your forming with the suit even as you swear you feel Austin's breath quickening as your hands touch his torso. "Calm down, Austin. It's not-"

"You know you can do more than tie the shirt and the suit. While you're down there." His voice is no more than a whisper as you see him take slow deliberate breaths. It almost sounds like a command and you feel your mouth water as your eyes flick down to see his cock starting to press against the pants. This is professional, your relationship with him is supposed to be professional and you're not- you're not going to be like half the crew who have fallen into his arms. His stupid asshole arms where he fucks a girl and leaves her and acts like he didn't lead them on with maybe promises of more. "Know you want to taste it. Been thinking of your mouth on it-"

You quickly stand up and shut your eyes shaking your head as you back away, your tying job complete. Getting out of this room should be your first priority but Austin won't force you into anything if you tell him no, you don't think. And you have a job to finish, you have to take the pictures of him in the outfit so Baz can see. It's easy enough, you don't even need to be near Austin to shoot the photos. "Don't- Just. I'm going to do my job, Mr. Butler." Mr. Butler, not Austin because that's why he's trying to pull this, he thinks he can, he thinks he's wormed his way into your head.

He has but that's not the point. He has but you are not going to fall into his stupid arms because you might actually like him and he's a movie star and you don't have time for this. You meet Austin's eyes and he rolls his before striking a pose in front of the mirror. If you didn't know any better you'd think he was showing off, trying to impress you with how he looked, but he wouldn't be doing that, not for you, not just to get into your pants. The whole ordeal is over faster than you think it is and if you run off as soon as Austin hands you the outfit on the hanger, well, that's between you, God, and Catherine and Baz.

He ignores you when you text him for the next week. He ignores you as you do his fittings. He ignores you when you try and talk to him in between scenes and you find yourself feeling anxious over it. You may think he's an asshole and he may be one but you were also getting very used to having him around and in your life. It's probably why while annoyed after a long day on set you leave him a voicemail message cursing him out and asking why he's so angry about you not sucking his cock among other choice words before you get a simple text back.

He's wearing the black butterfly/black pyramid jumpsuit. You know this because you specifically double checked the measurements to make sure they fit him. The pic he sends reminds you that you didn't anticipate his cock being hard in them.

"Was just with Catherine before you sent that. Wasn't tight before but now it's feeling a little too tight. I'm in desperate need of a tailor or I think I might split the pants. :)"

The speed that you use to get yourself back on set is one you doubt you will ever manage again. By now you unfortunately know where Austin's trailer is and pray to god it's unlocked as you march yourself to it and swing the door open only to find Austin with the jumpsuit half unzipped waiting for you.

"My favorite little tailor. Come to fix my problem?" He asks a smirk so firmly on his face that you want to slap it off of him but you'll settle for just having it be replaced by his mouth opened in pleasure. You snarl some word at him before finishing unzipping the jumpsuit and having his cock smack you in the face, smearing precum on your cheek. "Didn't bother with underwear, oops."

If looks could kill the one you give him through your eyelashes as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock would have murdered him. As it is though, all it does is earn a laugh out of him as he moves to grab the back of your head, guiding your mouth to his cock. "That's it. Fix the problem you made. Getting so angry with me like the frigid little bitch you've been. Could have been doing this for months. Could have-" His words are cut off as you take the tip of him in your mouth and he groans low, his hips struggling to not immediately buck. He doesn't trust that you can handle him that quickly and he's not about to have you do something gross on his cock. "Were you practicing on the lighting boys? Practicing on everyone else? Wanted to give me the best blow job? Give me what I earned for putting up with you doing this back and forth?"

All you want Austin to do is shut up and somehow he's not. Somehow he's maintaining enough brain power to spew insults at you that are landing far more harshly than you're willing to admit. Your hand moves to play with his balls as your tongue works the tip of his cock and that vein on the underside that has him cursing your name as he finally lets his hips buck into your mouth. You sputter a little, not necessarily prepared for the sudden force of his cock hitting your palette or the back of your throat, you don't know which if you're being entirely honest. All you know is there's a few tears forming in your eyes and your nose is running but you have a job to do that you refuse to fail at. It takes a moment for your throat to relax as you inch your way up his cock until your nose is nuzzling at that patch of hair you saw in the robe and you allow yourself a moment to just inhale his unique scent of sweat and soap. You feel his hand tighten against your head and do it once more as he tries to pull you off his cock, trying to gain an upper hand again only for you to grip his thigh and allow your teeth to graze his cock.

Austin does what can only be described as a growl and a groan mixed together as he realizes he can't pull you off the way you have your teeth. Right now it's pleasurable but if he tries to pull you any more it won't be. Goddamn he underestimated you. Instead he just leans back, trying to focus on the way your tongue feels playing with the tip of his cock, how it feels having you hollow out your cheeks, how it feels to have your mouth enveloping him so tight and warm and god, he feels himself about to come the more he feels your hand play with his balls. If you were someone else, if you were someone else he might warn you but you won't let him pull you off and so maybe you deserve to have his cum slide down your throat, maybe he wants to see it drip out the side of your mouth because you can't swallow it all. He can paint your face later. He can paint your body with his cum later.

You feel the warmth of his cum unexpectedly even though you had felt him twitching in your mouth. A part of you wants to be offended, wants to yell at him for not warning you but you take this as a challenge, trying not to choke as you swallow because his hand isn't moving from the back of your head. You know what he wants, he wants to see you be a good little slut, a good little girl and swallow his cum. That's easy enough except it isn't as you choke a little and feel some leak out the sides of your mouth before he's finally spent and he finally lets go of the back of your head. In a moment you pull off of him and are about to lick the sides of your lips before he rubs it off onto his thumb and puts it on your lower lip, the implication of suck vividly clear. Your tongue darts out and licks his thumb clean before sucking just once and letting it go with a light pop.

Austin is still trying to catch his breath as you shift on your knees, trying to gain some friction to ease the ache you feel between them. You try to be subtle but when he looks up at you he notices and smiles like he's a villian in some new movie.

"You want help with that?" A simple question but a loaded one that has you staring at his mouth and staring at his cock that's starting to stir again before you answer with a shrug.

"If you think you still need help making sure the costume fits, Butler." Not Austin, not AB, not Mr. Butler, just Butler, something that feels uniquely correct for this situation and from the way he smirks, you think he agrees.

"I'd hate to ruin all of Catherine's work because someone's tailoring job sucked." He pats his lap. "Ride me, Y/N. We've got all night."

taglist: @eliseinmemphis, @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @purejasmine, @lindszeppelin, i don't know it's asshole austin who even knows which of y'all wanna read this.