#and not even with people finding it thru the tag or peoples' reblogs- no it had to be because of the fucking haiku bot??

[rouge-the-bat]

wait like... do some ppl actually check all the blogs of people that interact with them? to vet out all the ones they dont want around? bc if so that sounds. exhausting?? how do people have time for that??

[bogunicorn]

A pox and a curse upon whoever decided "prev tags" were going to be a thing.

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[hoodie-prince-kid]

oh hang on blowing up while im awake is a nightmare for my anxiety actually

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: in the land of delulu.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Steam rises around you as you lower yourself into the water. It might be relaxing but your flesh doesn’t meet porcelain. Instead, you lay across the man who sighs beneath your weight. Just as soon as you recline, Lloyd’s arms are around you. 

You flinch as he grabs his other arm and squeezes you close. You tense as he remains completely lax between you. He’s relaxed and confident. He knows he has control. 

“Ah, jellybean, isn’t this nice?” He rocks you with him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” He’s right, you don’t. The more he talks, the more you suspect he’s been watching you for longer than you realise. And he talks a lot. “You and I. Happy. Together.” 

He unclutches his hand and it wanders up your naked chest. Goosebumps rise at the reminder of your nudity. He’s the only person who’s seen you like this. He’s the last person you would want to. You squirm as you feel him harden beneath you.  

His other hand walks to your thigh. He tickles your skin and pushes his fingertips firmly into your soft flesh. You shudder as his touch sends a tingle through you. 

“So, since we’re doing this the not-so-fun way, how about a trip to Las Vegas? We can hit a drive-thru chapel then stop at the casino. Gamble a little, fuck a lot--” 

“Vegas?” You echo. “I...” 

“Oh, yeah, you’re classy, aren’t you, bean? Yeah, that’s not right. Vegas. For my wife. Did you know you can get married pretty easily in Hawaii. And it’s gorgeous,” he purrs. “You’ve never been to Hawaii.” 

You wince. Each time he tells you how much he knows about you, you remember how little you know of him. Where did he come from? How did he find you? And what kind of man nonchalantly gasses someone one out after a whole stalking campaign? This is absurd. You just can’t believe it’s real. 

As he fondles your chest, you’re assured that it is very real. 

“Your heart’s racing,” he shifts his hand to spread flat above your tits. “You’re excited. Me too, bean. Me too. I promise, this ain’t just about the sex. Which I am very much rock hard about. No, jellybean, this is about us. About us expressing our love for each other. Sealing it. A pact to be together. Forever.” 

He laughs. You might even call it a giggle. He nuzzles your hair and hums. 

“Look what you’ve done to me. I feel like a teenager. I’m... I’m just... happy. I’ve never been more certain of anything, bean,” he purrs as he flutters his fingers down your stomach. “You know, I always thought marriage was stupid. Women, they were fun. Something to play with.” He pets your pelvis as he speaks. “I know, I know, I won’t mention the past. You don’t need to know about my mistakes. I was lost without you, jellybean. Stupid. Those women. Sluts. They mean nothing.” 

You stiffen and catch his wrist. His splays his fingers, then curls them. 

“I know, I’m getting impatient. Promise, I’ll be your good boy. I can wait.” He hooks his other arm around you. “Tell ya what. We’ll relax, get freshened up, then we can go book our flights, and look for a pretty dress.” He rambles on as you stare at the ceiling in horror. Everything you say is just a hurdle he easily jumps overs, “and some sexy lingerie. Only the best for my, bean, right?” 

It’s a good thing he can’t see your face. As clueless as he is, you think your disgust would be all too obvious.  

🩷

Lloyd has everything ready to go. Tickets, luggage you’ve never seen before, and even a passport. You never had a passport. You never travelled and you could never spare the money for the expense of it. That eerie suspicion rises again. How long has he been plotting to dismantle your entire life? 

The question hardly matters. You can’t go back. He’ll make sure of that. He already has. What is there to go back to? An empty apartment and no job. You doubt the company will buy the ‘oh sorry, I was kidnapped’ excuse. 

As unprepared you are for any of this, the airport is well beyond anything you can bare. As you enter, you’re struck by the sheer number of people and the noise alone is enough to make your ears itch. You stand in line with Lloyd, searching around for any sliver of hope. This is it. You get on that plane, and that’s the end. 

You cover your ears as your head begins to pulse. Lloyd nudges you as the queue moves ahead of him and you pull your luggage along. He hands over the boarding passes and your IDs, then helps get the bigger bags onto a cart. He retrieves his phone and the passports and leads you off towards security with only your carry-on. 

You shrink down as you’re crowded on both sides. Lloyd startles you as he rubs your back. You glance over at him with wide eyes. 

“Once we get through security, we can head over to the diamond long, jellybean. Less crowded there,” he keeps his arm around you, “only the best for wifey.” 

You turn your head straight and stare at the back of the stranger in front of you. You hate this. You never enjoy being among the general public but this is all too much. There’s so much sound and people and moving. It’s chaos. 

You hold your breath until your eyes threaten to bulge. You slowly let air through your nose as your eyes flick back and forth. You want to run but there’s nowhere to go. 

Lloyd ushers you forward and your feet drag. When it’s your turn, you walk through the scanner then stop for them to wave a wand around you. You wait as Lloyd collects his watch, phone, and wallet from the tray. 

He comes to you and takes your carry-on from you. He directs you around as you look around at the people rushing by. Faces blur and voices blare. You only move in hopes of being free of this. 

He leads you through a tunnel and the wall of noise fades behind you. You come into a lobby with a desk labeled Diamond Lounge. A woman greets you with a chirp but it’s much preferable to the chattering and yelling of before. 

Lloyd shows your boarding passes again. The woman says something but you can’t discern her words clearly. You're tugged by your hand into another room. 

The lighting is softer and the space is sectioned by leather seating and mounted televisions, and low tables. There are artificial fires set into the walls and pillows waiting on the cushions. You follow Lloyd to a couch and he sits you down beside him. 

“Hey,” he puts his hand on your shoulder, running his thumb up and down, “jellybean, you okay? You look foggy.” 

You look at him and cough. Your chest aches from holding your breath. You nod and sit back. His hand slips away from you. 

“Bean?” He murmurs. 

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Another woman in a white blazer similar to the one behind the desk appears. She pours two glasses of bubbly wine. You watch her and say nothing. 

She leaves and Lloyd caresses your knee. You stare at his hand. The dress he put on you chafes. You want jeans and a tee shirt. 

“I...” you begin hoarsely, “hate people.” 

He stills his hand and covers your knee, “I know, baby. Me too. We’ll be okay. It won’t be so bad from here.” He drags his hand away and takes the stemmed glasses, “here,” he offers you one. “Cheers.” 

You take it and hold it up. He clinks his against it but you do not drink. He sips but stops himself. 

“This will be good for us, jellybean. Just think, a proper wedding would be overcrowded, overpriced, and overdone. You know,” he leans towards you and grins, “what I love about you, besides the fact that you’re gorgeous from head to tits to ass to toe, is that you like simple things.” 

You blink at him and take a gulp. This isn’t just a flight or a shotgun wedding, this is your whole life. This man, this maniac, is never going to let you go. 

“You need anything? You hungry? You want a blanket? You can relax, baby--” 

You think about that more. He’s as good as giving you a life sentence. With him. It’s not just terrifying, it’s enraging. He’s enraging. He never stops. 

“I need you to shut up,” you snap without thinking. 

He recoils and his brows arch, “jellybean?” 

Your mouth opens and you stare at him. You wait for him to explode. To say something. He just looks at you, stunned. 

“I said shut up,” you repeat shakily. 

“Oh? I’m sorry, bean. I know you get a bit stressed from everything going on--” 

“Shut.” You trace a finger through the air, “up.” 

He takes a breath then shuts his mouth. He nods and pouts. He bats his eyes at you and sits back. You watch him uncertainly. He just looks back at you. You turn your attention to the glass of wine and drain it. 

Finally, some peace and quiet. 

🩷

Every little girl, every woman dreams of their wedding. Don’t they? 

No. Not you. Not ever. Never. Not in a million years. And to that man? 

To your surprise, the plane ride is quiet. You have your first-class seat and a pair of earbuds and an almost worryingly quiet neighbour. Since you barked at him to stop talking, Lloyd has obeyed. The longer he stays silent, the more you worry.  

Is he angry? You don’t want to care if he is but this man is dangerous even if he is ridiculous. He did gas you out of your former life. 

You disembark and he gets the bags. All of them. He’s suffocatingly servile. He loads the rental car and opens the passenger door for you. The only words he utters are ‘jellybean’ or some other redundant pet name. 

You chew your lip as you stare out the window. It’s gorgeous. It takes until that moment for reality to hit. You’re in Hawaii. You’re far away from home. Further than you’ve ever been. The beauty of the island battles with your displacement. 

The hotel is just as immaculate as the rest of the scenery. Lloyd checks you in and sends for the bags. You go to the balcony and stare off at the ocean as he fumbles around the suite. 

“On its way?” He says into the phone. “Yeah, that’s great. And the minister? Mmhm, yes, right on the beach.” 

You slump and cross your arms. You want to just fold into yourself. Maybe if you bash your head against the window... 

“Jellybean,” Lloyd calls to you. You cringe at the glass doors and turn your head slightly. He approaches, almost demure in his posture. “I don’t want to ruin our special day but there are a few things we still need to get ready for tomorrow.” 

You face him fully and stare. Now he wants your input? 

“You know I love you, right, bean?” He says, his lips twitching. He smooths his mustache with his fingers then shakes his hand out. You don’t have an answer, just an endless stare. “I’d do anything for you.” 

Love? Really? Right. He knows you as much as you know him. Not much. He might know about you, but he doesn’t really know you. And do anything for you or to you? Or to keep you? Because none of this is what you want. 

“Your dress will be your something new, and something old is your ring. Did I mention it belong to Elizabeth Taylor?” He smiles sheepishly, “so you just need something blue... I was thinking a garter? And something borrowed...” He puts his hands together and wiggles free his pinky ring, “you can try it on? Or just put it on a chain.” 

You squint at him. He’s crazy. That’s obvious but he really is. He thinks this is a dream come true. Not just his, but yours. This is an actual nightmare. 

“Well...” he takes your hand and presses the ring into your palm. “I know you need to rest before the big day so there’s some wine and whatever in the mini fridge. I can get you some champagne? Or something else? Are you hungry?” 

You shake your head and pull your hand from his. You turn away and look back through the window. You watch the coast and the peaceful lapping of water. You can’t be there right now, not mentally. So in your head, you’ll run out into the waves until they swallow you up. That’s much preferable. 

“Jellybean,” he says, “I’ll shut up now.” 

[blorbocedes]

let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

👇👇👇

👆👆👆

[drowsystarlight]

oooh wait MORE asks I am a fan of these ask games they rock (all of these are about Five again cause I know them, but if you give me a crash course in your OCs from other places even if I'm not in the fandom I would be Very Happy :D nothing quite like losing your mind over your own fictional characters, is there?)

🧡 - Is your oc honest? Why or why not? Are there only specific people they’re honest to?

🌇 - What does it take for your character to trust someone? Do they have to prove themselves? Or does your character not trust anyone no matter what? What made them this way? (I know parts of this from Heartbeat but I'd love to hear more!)

🍁 - What brings your character joy? Do they find happiness in the small things? Does it take a lot to cheer them up?

🥕 - How does your character treat themselves after a long day? Do they buy something new? Maybe they eat a sweet treat? Call someone they love? Take a hot bath?

✴️ - Is there anyone your oc admires or looks up to? What qualities of this person does your oc admire? Do they want to be like this person one day?

also your art is the prettiest thing ever and while rn I'm Broke one day I WILL buy a commission from you because your art really is amazing and I love it so so much

AYYEEEE NO WORRIES I LOVE FIVE ASKS!! my ocs are here and there and i havent had the time to yap bout them recently so maybe someday >;3 THANK U FOR THE ASKS!!! <3

🧡 - Yes and no . There's only specific people they're honest to, and 9 times out of 10 they have no problem with lying to a stranger about something . They don't trust people that easily, or at all :3 However they will tell you the truth about it months later if they get close

🌇 - AHHH YOU READ HEARTBEAT YIPPEE!!! theres a whole another chapter in my file but i havent drawn anything for it so im keeping it there for now LMFAO,,, anyway, it doesnt take much pther than time and kindness . it doesnt matter if Five likes or dslikes you, eventually theyll form a more solid opinion of someone and they can earn their trust by then :3 My Five was alone for years before the start of the ZR series . being alone, lonely, and isolated for so long does that to you </3

🍁 - Don't tell anybody else . Cats . ANY cat, real or not

🥕 - Unfortunately they don't . Five thinks rest is a treat . it's not a treat and its a normal basic human need . They learn this from Abel people eventually--by that time, they treat themself with some sweets :DD

✴️ - Janine . They love that she's a leader and is put together, knows what she's doing, etc etc . They admire her for being strong and stern and level-headed . They also admire Maxine and Sam for being kind and warm people... Also Yes. They want to be like them someday

THANK YOU!!! RAHHGH,,, i always see your reblogs and notes and tags and it always fills my heart with warmth,,, it means so much to me especially now that im suffering thru my art college thesis,,, WAHGDSH

[ashsostrange]

it’s stand on business o’clock, cz i know y’all sick gw*les & p*nkflower shippers + delulu gwen stans ain’t try to run my girl bree (@breeandhermunches) off her blog… you got me all the way fucked up and ima tag this in ALL the categories. you can’t do anything about it 🤣 if you’re upset, then scroll ho. if you know i’m not talking about you, then have a great day! 🫶 if the shoe fits, then wear it.

i’m getting disrespectful. ima return the energy you hoes dished out n you better take it like some mf champs. y’all wanted to fuck around so now you gotta hear my mouth and find out. read it ‘n weep. clearing you bitches gives me life.

such a shame we’re back here, but y’all are mad, mad miserable. like, i’ve never seen a fandom so chronically online. are you even trying to mask the fact that you rarely step outside anymore…? 😬

let me making it so very clear why i’m making this post in the first place, bc y’all seem to struggle with my main concerns never clicking in your heads.

y’all have the time to sit in somebody’s inbox and complain about their hatred towards fictional ships, meanwhile the people y’all complain about stay on their pages and mind their business? 🤨 those people being US. ion recall none of us going directly to YOUR pages to hate on punkflower and gwiles. if we hate, it’s on our pages. i don’t go looking for a mf fight, that’s mad childish. y’all were riding bree’s dick like crazy. at this point, her hate for gwiles must keep y’all up at night. talk to a therapist about that. it’s not healthy. i’m gna address ALL the bs y’all be on.

so now that you know why i’m posting this, let me set few things straight for y’all.

“don’t use the ship tag to hate! 🤬🤬” the day you copyright and trademark the tag, present me with an official “tumblr etiquette” rule book or, show me proof that you own tumblr is the day i’ll stop. ima do wtv i want whenever i want, please get that thru ya hollow ass heads. y’all aren’t entitled to anything. not respect, not no damn “common courtesy,” ESPECIALLY not over dysfunctional ships/fictional characters 🤣 i don’t owe you SHIT.

some of were y’all tryna go back and forth with me at the grown ass age of TWENTY. over GWILES. a sixteen yr old vs a twenty yr old, see your life 😂😂 it’s truly alarming. go get employed. if you alr are, then call your manager and pick up some more shifts bc you clearly ain’t doing enough. if college graduation rates begin to decline, i know exactly who to come to. everything’s going up and even tho you should be standing on some mf business so you can afford the cost of living, you’re arguing with teenagers online instead. a lot of you have too much free time.

“you posted this publicly under the tag, you can’t expect people not to want to argue” yes i can! block me and scroll. we don’t have to argue. i don’t remember starting an argument? i was never on your pages. i only reblog shit when it appears on my dash. like i said, i’m not searching far n wide for no damn fight. 🤷‍♀️ nobody told y’all to bitch, whine, and reblog mine or bree’s shit. your issue is that you have no self control. you don’t know when to hold yourself tf back, so you feel obligated to reply. god forbid someone has a differing opinion. my post was never even about the flaws in miles and gwen’s relationship. i was talking about how it is disappointing to see miles’ story be reduced to a love story. unfortunately, y’all forgot to put your glasses on beforehand and read “i hate gwiles.” yes, i hate gwiles!!! but that was not the point of my post. y’all are either illiterate or trying to let off some serious steam. i’m not having any of it. maybe y’all are upset i called you delusional, but you’ve effortlessly proven my point.

this is the internet. you have the tools to avoid seeing what me n bree hv to say, so why are you throwing a tantrum like a goddamn child instead of utilizing them?? you’re not special. the world doesn’t revolve around you and what you want. people are dying n you’re worried about a hate post under a ship tag?? mind you, that was the one and only “hate post” i’ve EVER put under that fuckass tag 😭 bree will make one post about gwiles, and y’all are the ones who’ll drag it out, then call her “obsessed.”we’re doomed bc y’all are doomed.

the white mfs complaining ab the term “snow bunny”… jesus 🤦‍♀️ ts didn’t even mean what you think it meant in the first place. it was originally used to refer to female skiers. some of y’all swear up, down, n all around that being “racist” to white people is the same as racism towards black people, and it’s not. let’s use “snow bunny” and the n-word as examples:

snow bunny had an alternative use before it was used to refer to white people. there’s no significant history behind it at all, unless you count tiktok as history. the n word has always been the n word. it’s always been derogatory, and anyone will a brain would know it’s mad history behind the word. it roots in deep hatred. people continue to use this word to belittle those who are black, or use it lightly around their friends nd behind closed doors as if it’s a common cuss word. y’all’s experiences with “racism” are nowhere near comparable to the experiences black people have BEEN facing and will be facing for fucking ever. white people have and always will be seen as the superior race, therefore, you face minimal to no “racism” outside of the internet, and i’d do anything to be able to say that. don’t even @ me talking about “🥹🥹 that doesn’t make racism against white people oka—“ i don’t care. at all. drink some water. you’ll be fine.

“you guys hate women!!!” “y’all hate gwen bc she’s white!!” like, you sound so fkn dumb nd all i can do is sit and stare at you.

me nd bree are black girls. people from EVERY race and EVERY ethnicity hate black people and EVERYONE hates black girls. hell, not even black men like us. why on god’s green mf earth would we ever want sb else to feel that way??

yk what y’all need to do? y’all need to quit whining and accept the fact that bree doesn’t like gwen because of what she did to miles. it’s as simple as that. stop trying to complicate things bc you so desperately want to deem her and other people who hate gwen “racists” or “misogynists.” no. i fw gwen heavy, nd me and bree are able to coexist bc neither of us are fucking delusional and regularly touch grass 🤷‍♀️ same thing with all my other mutuals.

meanwhile, you hoes get your panties in a twist when sb calls gwen a snow bunny as if she’s a sentient being who’s going to cry over ts, like, no. your feelings are hurt? take a fucking walk! nobody has to like her.

and punkflower, oh my god 😐 i’ve never been homophobic and i never will be. i’m literally queer. i’m not about that friendly fire before y’all try and call me homophobic. my thing is, if hobie was originally supposed to be a nineteen year old, n now his age is unconfirmed, why in the hell would we go and age him down to sixteen?? all y’all wna do is ship that man with miles or write smut about him. some of y’all wanna do both!! you change his age when it’s convenient to you. if you don’t see an issue with that, then i can’t help you. you’re weird. until i hear otherwise from one of the directors, he’s 19.

ghostflower or gwiles 🙃 the reason y y’all are sobbing or wtv. i thought y’all were exaggerating when you said gwiles was your religion, but it’s looking like i was very incorrect. real talk, ion like that fuckass ship. i don’t have to and neither does anybody else. just like you lames do with gwen, you dig deep in your ass for every problematic reason possible. “you have a racial bias!!!” “you hate interracial relationships!!” the fuck?? 😭 do you cunts read what you write before you post it?? “they’re more obsessed with gwiles than we are” “they must be in love with ghostflower & gwen”

…huh? covid really set some of y’all back tremendously because it seems a concerning amount of you lack critical thinking skills. in reality, just like hating gwen, the reason we dislike gwen and miles together is SO very simple. it all boils down to the fact that gwen did miles dirt. and i’ve made a separate post, i’ve talked about why they would never work imo. when i present y’all with my logical reasoning, you dgaf! so the only thing you can do now is shut the hell up, unclench, and cope. since you wna get in your feelings bout it, fuck gwiles, n fuck you too.

y’all even got some of your own people agreeing w me, props to y’all btw 👏 it’s never you i’m talking about.

i hate that y’all made it this deep bc it didn’t need to be. this is a fucking movie. none of this is real, yet you continue to harass me and bree like we murdered your immediate + extended family + the family dog that had cancer. i find myself hoping that one day y’all will realize how dumb you sound, but then i remember some of you niggas are already grown, so it’s looking quite improbable.

and also, don’t b up in my reblogs chattin’ it up about shit i’ve explicitly stated that idc about. i won’t repeat myself because you can’t read. if this post hasn’t shown you i don’t give even half of a fuck about you or your feelings regarding ANYTHING at this point in time, then i don’t really know what will 🤷‍♀️

if i made you mad, go ahead nd suck it up fa me. we won’t be going toe to toe and debating on MY blog because you’ll be actively wasting your own time, as i am not willing to hear anyone out. it’s been that way from the start and it won’t change. if you send an anon message or any type of inbox w some bs then it’ll sit there until the end of time or be swiftly deleted. if you reblog this post trying to invalidate anything i just addressed, i won’t even give you the time of day, bc i said everything that needed to said. i was very articulate and extremely clear. know that i can’t and won’t be swayed in the slightest. we’d just go back and forth until you decide to shut your mouth or block me. so block me now. ian the one.

if you don’t get it, then you don’t fucking get it, but what y’all aren’t gna do is treat people the way y’all were treating bree just because she hates two ships + gwen stacy. you complain about how the fandom sucks like you’re not the same people who make being in fandoms in unenjoyable.

you usually have to go to a therapist and pay for reality checks. luckily for y’all, i gave you one for free! you needed to be humbled and i happily did the humbling. lil piece of advice: stop trying to force people to gaf if they clearly do not. block and move on with your life. you gon get tired one day. leave me, bree, n anyone else you bother tf alone. spend your energy trying to change people’s minds on REAL ISSUES that actually matter, not fucking spider-man.

whew, ANYWAY… i hope i never have to speak bout this again. act right in the near future n i won’t have to “invade your tags” with long paragraphs in which i set you fools straight, thank yewww! 🫶

god bless!! 💗

[irrealisms]

Mu Qing for the character asks?

How I feel about this character

MY BOYYYYYY my perfect beautiful boy EVERYONE HATES HIM. AND FOR WHAT. every time i think about mu qing i think of this post which i am just now realizing i have not reblogged. i should fix that. anyway i am always thinking about this post. EVERYONE HATES HIM AND FOR WHAT!!!!!!

All the people I ship romantically with this character

xie lian (one-sided miserable pining since they were teenagers). also hua cheng (proxy relationship slash self harm). also feng xin but NOT the way literally everyone else does it. they should also be having a proxy relationship slash self-harm sort of deal. i have accepted that i do not in practice ship fengqing even though it is not theoretically impossible for people to write it in a way i ship bc nooooo one is writing it in a way i care about at all. also im informed by reliable sources that someone is writing jun wu/mu qing and im So Ready To Be Sold On This (this is also for proxy sex reasons imo. all ships with mu qing have to be about xie lian or else Im Not Interested)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

also feng xin and xie lian! i am wildly compelled by the xianle trio relationships whether romantic or platonic, i don't have strong feelings either way tbh

My unpopular opinion about this character

did i mention earlier. that i don't ship fengqing. because i don't ship fengqing. everyone makes them into generic side couple doing Slap Slap Kiss tsundere blackflirting and i dont. enjoy that or get anything out of it or particularly see their canon interactions thru that lens lol. yesterday i was going thru the mu qing tag to try and find fanart for a friend who also is a mu qing fan that doesnt ship fengqing and guys it's dire out here. such a notable majority of all mu qing fan content is fengqing and i dont even hate the ship in principle but i wish it were not so everywhere

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

honestly i don't know that i have anything here! mxtx gave me literally everything i wanted. not even in the mdzs way where i'm going "okay i respect this as an ending but it makes me sad"! i got everything i wanted!!! as much as fanworks can be frustrating for me, a mu qing fan, canon is so beautiful and full of endless joy

(ask game, give me a character)

[burning-sol]

this is gonna be an odd request, but if you have a backlog of jrwi reblogs and u have them tagged, let me know because i wanna go searching thru older posts. :thumbsup:

(please let me know abt ur blog even if other people have shared theirs!!!! the more blogs the better chance at finding unpopupar/lost posts)

[kyra45]

A detailed guide to pet donation scams

What is a pet donation scam? A pet donation scam is when a user goes to Facebook and searches up ‘cat’ or ‘dog’ in a private veterinarian bill aid group and looks for the most emotional and relatable post to use as their own for [tumblr]. They will save all the information from this post (such as pictures and story) but edit out any legitimate support method that is given because they have no intention on helping the one the pet belongs to. Afterwards, they will repost it to [tumblr] and pass it off as their own pet. The real owner generally isn’t aware of this and rarely uses tumblr.

The user will then make a blog and try to make it look related to the post they saved. Such as their blog bio saying ‘early 30s’ if the original post states a granddaughter that is related to the actual owner. This implies the poster has a granddaughter who misses the pet. But in reality it’s just took from the real post and the user isn’t them. The blog will then reblog a few trending topics several times (roughly 10-30 posts) but not tag them or use the original tags before making their donation post. The key here is the donation post is always pinned.

The donation post will then have the content of the post they got from Facebook. It is word-for-word the exact same post using the same legitimate images with the story only edited to remove any legitimate means of support. They will then add their own support method that is generally made to impersonate the name of the real owner in order to look more legitimate and to make others more likely to trust that their the real owner. They will also edit out the name on the veterinarian bill sometimes because they plan on reusing it for later posts under different names. This is more efforts to appear legitimate and to get away with scamming people.

How to spot a pet donation scam! There are several methods to spotting these kind of scams but the most consistent method is by the asks they will send to multiple users all at once and request the accounts to answer privately. Please be aware not all accounts who send asks for support are scams! It is just a common method done by scammers currently who make it difficult for other people. These asks also request for the user to share the pinned post and to message them if they have concerns. It’s likely the scammer will lie to gain trust when contacted.

Another method of spotting the pet donation scams is checking how old the account is that sent you the ask to share their pinned post. If it is just a few hours old or even a week old at best, its suggested to look up the username in tumblr search and see if anyones posted any alerts regarding the account and search the ask to see if it was sent to multiple other users. Generally the asks don’t get answered privately so finding them is usually easy. You should find alerts if it’s a scammer though newer accounts may not yet have a warning.

For another tip, check the support link the suspicious account has given and look at the location of the veterinarian place. Is the location related to the country of the support link? Hold your mouse over the link or press and hold it on mobile and the thru-link should show you the country it’s based in. If it doesn’t match vet location at all, then it’s extremely likely you’ve located a scammer whose stolen the post from Facebook and doesn’t think anyone will investigate their blog since most will just scroll a few posts at best.

All content used by the scammers are from legitimate posts. It is known that every post stolen by scammers is a real post stolen from another site. While the story and pictures are legitimate, the method of support given by the scammer are not the ones owned by the pets real owner. The real ones are always removed because scammers don’t help the real pet and just want the money for themselves. The real owner also doesn’t use tumblr, but if they do they either forgot the account or made a new one once informed about the scam.

How to report a pet donation scam: Report -> Something Else -> Illegal content or uses -> Phishing. Phishing is another kind of scam but this is currently the only way to deal with these scams.

[pencilnewt]

I dont think I have seen somebody draw as beautifully as you have, really.

The colors you use to draw make the photograph, as does the shadowing. And your ideas? Genius.

How did you learn all this great technique? Was that something you have always done or did you just start drawing?

I hope I could just tell you how amazing your art is to me (and many others)✨

thank you so much omfg!!

it’s definitely taken a lot of time and practice, i didn’t just wake up one day and know how to draw the way i do rn!! and im still learning all the time, im very self-taught!! gonna fish thru my instagram for a min and grab some screenshots of old art to demonstrate this in a sort of timeline but it feels very self-indulgent (which i try not to be too often haha) so it’s under the cut if anyone wants to see :3

i feel like im able to create something approaching the art i see in my head for the first time in my life and im SO grateful for any and all support people have given me while im doing that in a way i literally cannot express like i read EVERY SINGLE tag people leave on my art on here and it makes me want to fucking cry <3

quickly first of all i use CSP version 1 these days but over the past 9 years i’ve used nearly every free drawing program available - krita, 🏴‍☠️photoshop, firealpaca, autodesk sketchbook, ibis paint, medibang…

anyway some sketchbook drawings circa 2016/age 13 (earliest i have photos of, but i have one earlier sketchbook somewhere) at which point human anatomy was still an utter mystery to me:

got my first drawing tablet in 2017 - a little wacom intuos draw, which i don’t think they make anymore, but i still used it until about a year and a bit ago when i bought my xp-pen display tablet w my first paycheck. i think this was literally the first thing i drew on there:

a bit of a jump to 2019 (this is where i got my love for fuzzy chalky textures i think):

i try not to think about the dsmp era too much but that’s where i made some big strides (especially in my colouring) because i felt a lot of consistent motivation to draw!

& then spent a LOT of time doodling my dnd character over the past year & doing some other little reference studies when i could find the time between writing my undergrad dissertation etc. this helped me nail down drawing faces better than b4.

i’d doodled some hockey stuff on and of for the past couple of years but only started properly drawing or posting anything at the end of september!! gotta say a big THANK YOU to everyone who reblogged pens snoopy when i first posted him bc without the support from people on here i don’t think id have initially been so motivated to keep making this art that i’ve loved drawing so so much. and i’ve made friends & mutuals that i’m even more grateful for :3 1st vs most recent:

i have lots of things i wanna keep working on, here are some:

more detailed backgrounds & lighting (biggest barrier here is terrible Can’t Be Bothered syndrome)

recognisably simplifying/stylising people more!! i can do this a bit but my strength is defo semi-realism i feel

improving my composition/making it more intentional. this is the biggest reason behind making those stamp designs actually (could go into much more detail in another post about what’s behind lots of the hockey pieces i’ve made, if anyone would like to hear about that. there’s semi-often something im trying to specifically work on or practice)

more movement & dynamism!!

this is probably so obvious but i’m like. passively learning from looking at other artists’ work all the time as well as practicing. if i really like a piece of art i see online i’ll try and identify exactly WHY i like it so i can think about how i might improve my own art.

if you read this far i’m in love w you <3

[shmreduplication]

someone had linked me this a few months ago when I was queuing the videos and complaining about how hard it was to find the social media pages for everyone

this turned into a long post. tldr is it's hard to recreate something from 12 years ago even tho it was entirely on the internet

I went thru all of Lydia, Charlotte, and Jane's tumblrs and queued posts that are mostly pics of the characters posted from the blogs rather than reblogs. The people who put together that transcript of all the social media posts clearly had the same idear but only looked thru the tagged posts on each blog because Jane's blog has a few in-character photoshoots that someone didn't tag correctly. Since I'm trying to waste as much time as possible, I actually looked thru the entire blog archive so it was a little easier for me to catch them. Charlotte unfortunately does not have anything worth reblogging, it's mostly movie posters and trailers with a few fan interactions. Jane's blog is a fashion blog so there will be a handful of posts from her, and Lydia does the most fan interactions which includes reblogging gifs and fanart. I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack while working on it so I did add in two posts comparing Lydia to Glinda. She also starts posting her youtube vids on her tumblr, but those are already queued on the main blog so I'm not going to add them to the soc med blog

twitter's UI is not familiar to me and it doesn't seem like they have a good archive function the way tumblr does so instead of pulling from that, I'm copying from the social media transcript, de-formatting it in gsheets, then I'm going to reformat it with a fake tweet generator. If they missed any tweets like they did with the tumblr posts it's going to be ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ they have some fan-interactions there too but just from skimming it it's only fans who aren't winking at the fourth wall, like asking what kind of camera they use and saying they looked tired in the most recent video and asking if they liked the most recent doctor who episode so I trust their judgement

the different styles of the tweets and tumblr posts are actually really done, shows the team had a very strong sense of character for everyone in the cast. The tweets from the Lees and Darcys are more similar to each other, the tweets from Charlotte and Lizzie are more similar to each other, the tweets from Kitty (a literal cat in this version, her account is run by Lydia) really seems like Lydia tweeting as a cat rather than like someone hired by Hank Green pretending to be a cat

fixing the formatting on the tweets is really boring but I'm getting a much bigger appreciation of the overall ambition and success of The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, and of the fans who put together the social media transcript, and people who try to do research on internet-based communities. There's sooo many posts spread out over soo many websites, but those are subatomic compared to all the posts on all those sites so they can still be hard to find, and there's always the risk of things being deleted w/no secondary source

[dq9]

Hey I gotta ask.

How do you find all of this yuri on ice art?

You reblog/queue/save so much of it and yet I wonder how you keep finding new stuff. Do you just have a super deep scroll on a tag permanently open? Did you queue it all in one like 48 hour scroll? Some secret third option? I gotta know

a few options, theyre all at least partially true!!

there are a bunch of active yoi blogs!! harocat, jewishvitya, neutronice, cecebeanie, vityascielo, and blended-ice of course all come to mind, but theres plenty more i havent mentioned that i can get all sorts of yoi art from. i have a fairly consistent stream of art to queue/draft/reblog/etc which keeps me queue goin

a lot of (anime) blogs active around the 2016/2017 era of tumblr will have smth yoi related on it. this includes my own old blog for instance, but plenty of ppl have tags taht stretch back years with plenty of new stuff for me to explore. or even just stuff i havent seen in awhile

theres blogs from back in the day, for instance, that got permission to repost art from other sites like pixiv onto tumblr, like story-kat!! story-kat posted fairly consistently up until this past year, and they have SUPER extensive tags with plenty of stuff to look thru

when my drafts were in the 4k range, most of that was done in a few concentrated bursts. id find blogs w yoi tags, like story-kat or neutronice, and look thru people THEY reblogged from, look thru their tags, look thru Their reblogs, so on and so forth. sometimes if someone didnt have tags but they did reblog lots of stuff at that time, id go thru their archive to see if there was anything new or fun or exciting.

yoi was super popular when it came out!!! theres nearly endless art and writings and meta, and lots of it is still being made now!! i follow the tag as well, so i see meta posts from people such as thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai, neutronice regularly gets art commissioned for their fics, blended makes fantastic art with so much heart and love. theres a lot to sift through, and all of it is great

thsi is like a super detailed answer but like tldr: art-cheology at work god bless tumblrs tagging system

[zablife]

Are You Gonna Throw That Out???

2022 is coming to an end and everyone seems to be clearing out their WIP folders and unwritten requests. We've all heard "one man's trash is another man's treasure." So before you bin that idea you think will never work, why not share it here? I'll go first and you can reblog with your idea or leave it in the comments for others to rummage thru like the deranged, sleep-deprived raccoons we writers truly are. (No need to claim an idea as no two people will write something in the same way. However, sharing thoughts with the original creator and giving credit in the notes when you do post is surely appreciated.) I hope you find something shiny!

Leaving my idea under the cut and tagging some moots who might be interested.

My fic idea I will never write: A beautiful WWI nurse tends to the wounded, making her rounds in the evening, tenderly caring for the men in her charge, including Tommy. The patients are soothed by the sounds of her singing until they realize the unfortunate coincidence that the last man she visits each night faces certain death. How does Tommy survive his visit from the angel of death? Or does he? They say no man came back the same.

No pressure tag: @theshelbyclan, @dearshelby, @solomons-finest-rum, @christinasyellowflowers, @madame-wilsonn, @vintunnavaa, @amysteryspot, @murderousginger, @runnning-outof-time, @gypsy-girl-08, @noforkingclue, @the-makingsofgreatness, @flysafepapi, @cillmequick, @dandelionprints, @look-at-the-soul, @shelbydelrey, @mythos-writes, @peakyswritings, @moral-terpitude, @dreamlandcreations, @raincoffeeandfandoms, @hb-writes, @evita-shelby, @notyour-valentine, @wandawiccan60, @buttercup32sstuff, @peakyblindas, @little-diable, @pherelesytsia, @l1-l4, @there-goes-thefighter, @justlulu, @midnightmagpiemama

[2dmax]

Every time I post art and I think I tag it correctly, it floats into the void with no interaction every time.. do you have any tips.

Hey! I definitely don’t know everything there is to know on this so others are welcome to add on, but as far as I am aware here are some things to consider:

- tumblr will punish you for adding too many tags. Prioritize reach tags over personal tags if you think you have too many. That is your shit will not show up in ANY tag or even be searchable on ur blog if you just have too many tags.

- actually check out the contents of the tags you use, or at least the ones you use more frequently. Does your work feel like it is sort of in the same realm of what other people might be looking for in this tag? If not, try some alternatives.

- i also personally go thru tags i use and reblog other artists out of them. I find by interacting with other artists and people who like art like yours, you will find your community and honestly your community on here is gonna be more responsible for a post taking off that probably using The Right Tags although tags can help

- likewise reblogging other artists to my art blog shows people i care about their art and rising tides raise all ships!

- i use a lot of -core tags. Call it cringe but i find it helps. Scenecore, kawaiicore, webcore, cozycore. Look into some of these and other “aesthetic” tags!

- at least at one point in time, having ANY link in your post will remove it from the tag. So, if you want your post to go far, add the link in a comment or a reblog.

EDIT: also another thing i do is REBLOG MY ART ALL THE TIME! So many times people will just not have seen it bc theyre a new follower or were offline when i posted it and even if they already saw it, most people are happy to see it again! So give your old art a reblog, reblog it to your main blog, and dont apologize for it!

Hope that helps! Again please feel free anyone reading to add some tips for tagging and reach. Thanks for the question anon.