#and then they post it online for free to share with like minded people

[mariacallous]

When it comes to online dating, Giovanni Wolfram, a 25-year-old living in Santa Fe, New Mexico, isn’t all too worried about whether his fellow dating app users will find him attractive. Rather, his biggest fear is that he might come off as “cringey.”

“You can get away with being ugly,” Wolfram says. “But being cringey is just like—that's a character that's imprinted on you.” Since he first joined Hinge at 18, he has worked hard to scrub his profile of sincerity. He’s kept his responses to Hinge’s prompts sarcastic and ironic, sort of as a litmus test. Some people take his snark seriously, but those people don’t get a response from him.

“Intellectually, I’m really all about sincerity and earnestness,” says Wolfram, but he worries about “being perceived as one of those guys who is too earnest and too sincere.”

Sincerity, earnestness, irony-free declarations of contentment—these are all things many young adults edit out of their online personas. Much of what Gen Z considers “cringe” might strike others simply as directness and honesty, but one generation’s authenticity is another’s red flag. Young adults’ tendencies toward lightheartedness and jokes in their online self-presentation may point to the way many of them are dealing with feelings of vulnerability and disillusionment.

Jordan Meisel, a New York psychologist whose clientele includes college students and twentysomethings, has noticed the demographic’s reluctance toward sincerity. “I think there's just an awareness that it's far more vulnerable to create a persona that feels accurate to who you are as opposed to who you think you're supposed to be or who you'd like to be,” she says.

It’s easier to make a joke, Meisel says, because when you present yourself seriously, you run the risk of there being laughter anyway—at your expense. “Emotionally speaking, you can't hurt me if I never show myself to you,” she says.

Be Not Cringe

When Wolfram is messaging potential matches in the dating apps, it’s humor or nothing. “A lot of times I will just not be able to think of something funny enough. And the idea of being sincere is so repulsive that I just won't answer,” he says.

Wolfram says he rarely matches with people whose profiles are “too earnest”—for example, if they share that they enjoy “lazy days in bed with a joint.”

I ask Lila Goodwillie, a 25-year-old New Yorker, whether “cringeyness” would repel her from someone’s profile. “Unfortunately, yes,” she says. “I'm not proud of that, because I feel like when I meet people in person, I kind of like nerdy guys. I kind of like guys who are a little dorky and maybe a little bit cringe,” she says.

But on the apps, her taste is distorted. “People are getting more picky,” she says. “People are getting turned off by the cringe factor.”

To illustrate this, she points out some of the famously clichéd, tired tropes she sees in dating app profiles: the guy holding a fish he caught, the “military guy,” the guy who posts shirtless selfies from the gym. Over time, she has identified more archetypes she finds cringe: the guy who writes “ask me about the time I went motor biking across Vietnam,” the guy who uses the “two truths and a lie” prompt, the voice note guy, the guy whose profile includes videos of himself playing guitar. At this point, it’s difficult to escape the fate of being slotted into one of many cringey categories.

To Goodwillie, earnestness also suggests an open-armed—and deeply uncool—embrace of dating apps as a mechanism for finding love. “My mom always says, ‘You’re going to meet someone when you least expect it,’” she says. “I kind of feel like I always have that in the back of my mind when I'm looking at profiles. I'm like, ‘Oh, I'm not taking this very seriously. I'm just going to see what happens and maybe I'll meet someone, maybe I won't.’ So I feel like I tend to gravitate toward the profiles that also seem like they have that same sort of casual attitude about it.”

Will Gray, 26, of Nashville is also put off by profiles he feels are too serious. He’s seen responses to Hinge prompts he interprets as too sincere, like, “What I'm looking for: a man who will always support me through thick and thin no matter what.”

“I'm being very judgmental. I guess that’s part of what the apps do—they make you judgmental,” he says.

He held his distaste for earnest responses in mind when creating his own profile. When it came time for him to answer the app’s prompts, he wanted to come off as sarcastic and lighthearted, feeling the “the threat of being too serious.” He describes his profile “semi-serious” and “somewhat sarcastic.”

“That’s partially just me not wanting to be vulnerable, or being insecure,” he says.

Long-Term Love

Gray admits that this self-consciousness can hinder young people’s ability to get what they likely want out of the apps: love and companionship. “The people bringing that serious and earnest energy, frankly, probably have the most long-term success, because they're being open and vulnerable and earnest and clear about what they want.”

Anabelle Williams, 25 from Brooklyn, agrees with Gray that directness on the apps is probably a significant indicator of success. Her friend who indicated she was looking for a long-term relationship is now in one with someone who also clearly stated that same desire.

But in Williams’ own online dating life, someone stating what they’re looking for is “the biggest red flag I could have ever seen,” she says, describing it as “embarrassing.” “When I would see somebody saying ‘looking for a long-term relationship,’ I was like, ‘OK, you're not looking for me. You're just looking for anyone.”

Similarly, Liam Katz, 24, also of Brooklyn, describes sincerity on dating apps as “unnatural.” He compared an earnest-seeming online dating profile to “a picture of someone alone in front of the Statue of Liberty.”

“When you're at a party with someone, very seldom are you going to be like, ‘Oh yeah, by the way, I don't smoke cigarettes very often, I'm looking for a short-term relationship, and this is my sign.’ That's not how people start talking,” Katz says. He calls that level of immediate disclosure “ridiculous.”

“Usually it starts with you kind of joking around about something,” he says. “That’s kind of lost a bit, where I think dating apps are so, like, ‘I'm looking for someone who's this, this, and this, perfect. This person fits my match, let's go out.’ And I think that's kind of lame and sad.”

The culture of harsh judgment on dating apps makes users hyperaware of how they’re perceived. In the same way Katz finds others’ profiles cringe, he’s conscious about not wanting to come off that way himself. “It's scary because you know how harshly you judge people on the app” Katz says. “We're all doing the same thing.”

Tears for Fears

Meisel, the psychologist, finds that young adults have plenty of pejorative terms to describe sincerity. “For people who are going to college and meeting a lot of new people for the first time, a huge fear is that they're going to come off as cringe, try-hard, pick-me. There's just all of these weaponized terms that really control the social landscape,” she says.

Her younger patients often struggle at first to identify that it’s precisely this fear that’s getting in the way of their happiness. “It’s common that people come in feeling lonely, feeling disconnected, socially anxious, but they’re not quite sure why. And then in our conversations it becomes clear that these fears are playing an integral role in maintaining this distance from other people.”

Meisel thinks this aversion to vulnerability is related to a larger sense of disillusionment with the world. “It is very vogue to be cynical, to be pessimistic, to be an end-days thinker,” she says. “I think taking a protective stance is in line with having a cynical view of the future.”

“Vulnerability, in the form of genuineness, is the opposite of that,” she says.

In some ways, Gen Z is following in the footsteps of their elders—millennial irony was a much-discussed phenomenon of the early 2010s. But that ironic distance has given way to more sincere norms as millennials have arrived in middle age.

Wolfram finds millennials’ sincerity “revolting.” He points to how they respond to dating app prompts in the way they’re intended to be responded to. If the prompt asks the user to share their likes, for example, he often sees millennials “write two paragraphs of lists of everything that they actually like,” he says. “It’s very confusing.”

Gen Z’s fear of cringeyness might be cut from a different cloth than millennial irony. Wolfram thinks his “slice of Gen Z” is “much, much more irony-poisoned” than those just slightly younger or older, in part because the looming threat of being judged online has haunted his cohort from an early age. “A lot of it is learned,” he says. “I remember when I was a kid, I posted on Facebook this really sad-boy meme, and I got made fun of for it.”

Guilty by Association

Fully escaping the accusation of cringeyness in online dating might be a lost cause, because another cringeworthy offense, apparently, is simply being on a dating app in the first place.

“I feel like dating apps in general are already a little cringe,” says 24-year-old Manhattanite Erica Dick. She wants the profile of a prospective partner to reflect her discomfort. “There's absolutely this idea of ‘Let us acknowledge that this is weird.’ I guess I'm looking for someone else who is feeling the same way as me.”

Since dating apps are already a tacit admission of the desire for a relationship, a profile that suggests you’re not taking the app too seriously may be part of an effort to offset the “cringe” inherent in just being there. Multiple people mentioned that, on Hinge, many list their “most irrational fear” or the “riskiest thing” they’ve ever done as “downloading this app.”

But Meisel thinks there’s hope. She sees some of her younger clients rebelling against the fear of cringe. “They’re seeing how that vulnerability and sincerity is necessary in order to create meaningful deep relationships.”

[snorfbin]

.

[yung-notorious]

ALWAYS SOME NEW SHIT, AIN’T NEVER THE USUAL! I FUCK YOU SO GOOD TILL I HAVE YOU DELUSIONAL! - ♡

— your roommates are gone, the apartment is yours, and you're laid up in bed with somethin' dangerous. all you need is him, his hands, and a little time to make the most of it. — feat. satoru gojo

+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x college!gojo, excerpt from never lose my chapter 8, porn with plot, situationship, morning sex, that good 'ol sunday dick, protected sex, dirty talk, body worship, sub/dom undertones, trust & boundaries, slight cum play, squirting, riding, fingering, voice kink, gojo kink(?), edging & milking, overstimulation, gojo’s character may be questionable but his stroke game is A1. notes. word count 5.8K, apart of a larger body of work but can stand alone as a one-shot. you can read the full chapter here: A03 & master post. title: lick me - sexyy red ft. lil baby. divider: fairytopea (tumblr)

You knew Satoru was bullshitting when he said he’d be on the phone for a few more minutes. He’s been chatting away for an extra thirty, and you’ve already gone through your entire Instagram feeds stories and now the Tiktok burnout is starting to set in.

Exhausted from doom scrolling, you chuck your phone somewhere across the bed to snuggle deeper into his embrace, resting your head against his chest. You don’t have a single fucking clue what’s being said anymore with his ear now pressed against the phone, but whatever it is definitely isn't related to earlier’s conversation. You think you catch mention of the school’s football team and the names of people you don’t recognize, but at this point, you’re too out of the loop to care. He’s lucky you actually like being around him, because had this been anyone else you’d probably kick them out telling them to go the fuck home.

What’s even more surprising is that despite being bored out of your mind, chilling with him in bed while he talks on the phone is strangely confronting. You’ve had your share of intimate moments at your young age, but you’ve never simply laid up like this with a guy before. It’s domestic as hell— whatever the girls online call it— but you’re not pushing it away. 

Resting your head on his chest as he rubs your shoulder, you let the rhythm of his voice wrap around you like a warm blanket. There’s this cool boyish charm that comes through as he talks— a side of him you’ve caught glimpses of only a few times when he’s speaking to his friends. He’s more commanding and animated, yet somehow still a relaxed version of himself all together, nearly a polar opposite of how he is with you.

And you know what? That’s exactly how it should be, you’re not the one to be treated like a homie. And even though his friends do annoy the hell out of you when they’re together, seeing him be himself with them is undeniably attractive and lowkey turning you on. 

Shifting over onto your stomach, you tuck an arm behind his neck, hooking a leg around his waist, letting your free hand slowly trail down his body feeling him up. Stopping to rest your hand on the inside of his thigh, you look up, waiting for a reaction. 

When you don’t get one— he’s still chatting away— you decide to take it a step further, slowly creeping your hand up to cup his balls, palming his bulge. 

It only takes a couple good rubs for you to feel his dick harden beneath you. Feeling bold, you wrap a tight fist around his length stroking him through his briefs. All it takes is a couple tight ones for his thighs to widen up and you take that as permission to go further. 

Slipping a hand under his waistband to squeeze his dick, you watch him bite his lip, still ignoring you as he lazily stares up at the ceiling. He can try to act all cool and unbothered all he wants, but you know exactly how to melt his ice.

Taking charge, you rub your thumb carefully around his slit, your acrylic nail getting caught in the fabric of his briefs with each pressing circle. It doesn't take much effort before you’re feeling the wetness of his pre sticking to the pad of your thumb as you. Pausing to collect up what you can to wet his shaft, you grip your hand back around his length giving him more quick strokes.

Feeling more daring, you connect your lips to his neck, slowly peppering soft, wet kisses along his skin as you continue working your hand around his dick and balls. You’re finding some sort of fun in all this really, feeling him up in every which way you please while he lays beside you trying to act like he’s not bricked the hell up. 

You can hear every grunt that gets stuck in his throat and cracking of his toes each time you press against the underside of his tip. It’s kind of funny how you’re unsure who’s more of a slut now: you for daring to do this, or him for letting it happen while he’s on a call. Y’all are both some trouble! 

Just as you’re about to go for a gentle bite on his ear you feel the deep bass of his voice against your lips. 

“Choso— Choso…bro I’ma let you go…I’ll try to be over there later tonight. Alright, I'll talk to you later. Bye.” He ends the call to lean over— your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick— to drop his phone onto the nightside with a loud thud.

Unfortunately for him, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his composure, it’ll be his own body that will betray him every single time. Men, they’re so fucking weak. You probably could rob him with a fleshlight.

Falling back onto the mattress, he turns to give you a look before opening his mouth, and of all the things you expect him to say, it definitely isn’t, “Why’d you interrupt my phone call?”

“Because you talk too much.” You say smart, releasing him to wipe your hand clean on his briefs along the side of his hip. Sitting up on your elbow to rest your cheek in your hand, you hover above his face to stare down at him challengingly, awaiting his response. This could go one or two ways, but you know for sure either way ends with you getting fucked. 

"All I needed was a few minutes.” He murmurs, his hand glides up your chest stopping just below your neck before gently tracing your jawline with his thumb. 

“I gave you that, now I want your attention.” You cock your head. “Did you forget where you were at?”

"You have it— so now what’s up?" He asks, his tone still soft, eyes locked on yours as he tilts your chin up just as your hand slides over to squeeze his thigh.

“You know what I want…” You breathe, inching closer to his bulge. 

“Yeah?” He lets go of your chin, trailing his hand down your chest. “You don’t have to ask me— could have just pulled it out.” Eyes still locked on yours as you slip a hand under his waistband.  

Letting you go, he gives you space to slip under the covers, lifting his hips to help you tug off his briefs. The second they're gone, your hand is around him, leaning over to take him between your lips. You know exactly how he likes it— your mouth and hand wrapped tight around the tip, teasing him with just the right amount of pressure that’ll make his toes curl.

You know you're doing a good job when his hand resting at the back of your neck tightens, turning into a firm grip that keeps you exactly where he wants you. Not wanting to try your luck deep throating him just yet, you brace yourself with a hand on his thigh for balance, but soon find yourself running your hand along the muscle instead, grabbing on wherever please, feeling out their solid weight and smoothness. Even though his dick is the main event— hot, thick, and heavy in your hands each time you pull off to catch your breath— it’s his thighs that have your full attention. Maybe next time you'll leave a trail of bites and hickeys along them, marking him up good just because you can.

“Get in between my legs...” He throws the covers back making room for you. Without a second thought, you crawl between his thighs, and just as you’re about to shift down the bed to lay on your stomach, his voice interrupts.

“Uh-uh, sit up...” He whispers, and despite it being nothing more than a gentle correction, it still finds a way to make your stomach tingle. You can’t even lie, that bossy shit turns you up. Glancing up at him, you slowly prop yourself up on your elbows to part your knees just enough, arching yourself down low, nice and sexy in a way you know he’ll like. 

Bobbing your head up and down his dick, you lose track of every grunt and curse you pull past his lips. The wet, squishy sounds from each tight squeeze, paired with the clacking of your pretty nails around his dick, become a rhythm you get lost in until the growing dampness in your panties pulls you back in. Fuck, you’re going to have to speed this up because you really want to fuck now.

“Sloppy, baby. Make it—” His voice breaks off, caught in his throat as you pull off to throw a nasty wad of spit on his dick, watching as it drips down his length. “There you go…” He murmurs, a grin tugging at his lips. You don’t even need to look up to know he’s smiling. Anything for him, right?

“Gotta get the sides too. All of it. Just how I taught you...” His words make your stomach tighten. Glancing up through your lashes, you latch onto his shaft, tongue tracing long, slow licks along his length. The salty taste of him mixing with the slick of your spit as you pump the head of his dick with a tight fist.

“Sloppier…spit on it some more…get that shit wet for me…” He murmurs, bringing his hands down into your hair to gently pull back to keep out of your face. Taking a moment to lick his pre-cum and drool off your lips, you teasingly slap his dick against your tongue, testing its weight. Spitting down onto him again, you let it drip slow and messy before taking him back into your mouth, your lips wrapping tight around him. As you glance up, you catch him smiling down at you, and you can’t help but sheepishly smile back. You used to hate giving head, but for him— talking to you like this— you’ll keep going till he busts in your mouth twice. 

You swear everytime he looks at you like that, something inside you loosens up. You never thought sex could be like this— fun, messy, and so damn freeing. That it’s not just about getting him off; but letting yourself enjoy it too. 

Remembering the times he’s whispered for you to drop your innocence and open up awakens those butterflies in your stomach. It’s a mystery how in such a short time of knowing him, he’s managed to create a safe space for you to let go and push past the boundaries you once clung to— all without a hint of judgment. 

But no matter how amazing everything feels with him, there’s this nagging thing that won’t leave you alone—a constant reminder of how off this all this really is. No matter how hard you try to push it aside, the truth is starting to feel impossible to shake, and the longer you avoid the elephant in the room, the harder it becomes to hold it all together. It’s doubt that creeps in at the end of every night, makes you wonder if any of this is even real. But fuck it, you don’t have the time to make any sense of it right now. You can talk it out with Tink later, you have to get this nut in. 

"Ahmp!" You bite back a moan, caught off guard as his hand slaps your ass right when he shifts to sit up.

“Come up here…” He says, and without a second thought, you slide your soaked panties off to straddle his lap. Once fully seated, you wrap your hand around his dick, stroking him from behind your back, while your other hand rests against his shoulder for support. You can feel your wetness sticking against him, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower not to be a horny bunny and grind your sloppy wet pussy against his chest.

“You know where that condom at?” The question catches you off guard, making you pause— again, definitely not what you expected to hear. Someone’s full of surprises today, huh?

“Yeah, why?” You give him a confused look.

“It’s early, and I’m still kinda tired…I don’t wanna have to worry about pulling out. It be in the back of my mind when we fuck...” He says, warm hands smoothing along your stomach then up around your ribs.

Okay, cool, good to know at least one of you is trying to be responsible. Condom? Sure. Not a problem!

“I think it’s in here.” You lean over, trying to search in the top drawer of your nightstand without tipping over. “Hold me.” You warn, feeling yourself about to topple over. His hands quickly find your waist steadying you. 

“I got it.” You find it stuck beneath a pile of clutter you've been meaning to sort out.

Handing him the gold foil, you scoot back a bit, giving him space to do his thing. As much as you love the feeling of raw sex, there’s something seriously hot about watching him work a tight fist along his length, struggling to stretch the latex over his girth. And as if that wasn’t enough, the damage your sanity takes from his dick snapping back against his abdomen when he lets go is downright disrespectful. 

“Come on— ready?” He grabs you at your ribs, pulling you forward towards him, your breath hitches at his sudden eagerness. “You don’t need this…” He tugs at your shirt, and the second it’s off he’s grabbing hold of your boobs, squeezing them and sucking on your nipples like a baby. Never too tired to suck titties, huh!?

Taking your hand to guide his dick to your entrance, you carefully sink down onto the tip. Yet, no matter how many times you’ve done this, the feeling of just the head pushing through is one that’ll never get easier even with time. 

It’s harder this time around— his dick— no pun intended. After nearly a week of constant sex, you have no choice but to take him slow, inch by inch, feeling yourself clench around him as you sink down.

“Gimme a second…” You plead, pressing your hand against his chest to keep him from bucking his hips up. On a good day you could take all of him, but with the way he’s bricked up, you’re not trying to bite off more than you can chew. See, this is that early morning dick, It’ll be a lot more than hurtful words flying out of your mouth if he so much as attempts to push you down. 

“Take your time…” He teases, bringing both his hands to rub soothing circles along your jawline, fingers combing through your tresses around your nap. “Too much?”

“It’s enough— you’re not little.” You laugh, bouncing slowly on his length, giving your wetness a chance to moisten the condom as you try to fully take him in. It’s painstakingly slow working your sore pussy down his stiff dick, but guess this is the price you pay for letting him fuck you like a dog all week. 

“My bad…” He chuckles. “Here, come lay on my chest— hmm.” He pulls you into his arms. Slanging one around your back, he scoots the both of you further down the bed gripping a handful of your ass to help guide you down his length.

“It’s too dry…” You come back up, the friction of the condom becoming unbearable as you feel yourself drying up from frustration. This isn’t working.  

“I got you…” He brings two fingers to his mouth to wet them. Pulling out, he uses those same fingers to stroke your pussy, rubbing tight circles on and around your clit. Burying your face in his neck to stifle your moans, you feel yourself grow wetter as he whispers filthy praises in your ear, urging you on. 

“This better?” He lips brush against the shell of your ear. Your thighs quiver with each teasing stroke to your clit, the oversensitivity heightening your arousal. And like a slut you can’t do much but moan against his neck when you feel those same two fingers sink into your heat. Curling deep, giving himself a feel around your velvety walls.

“Mhm…” You nod, slowly rolling your hips down to ride his hand. The exploratory movements of his fingers driving deep, stroking your g-spot. “Right there…fuck…right there…” 

“I got you baby…I got you...” His palm presses against your clit as he drives his fingers even faster making sure to hit that sweet spot over and over, he’s so damn deep he could poke your cervix if he pleased. “…you’re squeezing baby, relax for me…there you go…how that feel, good?”

“Toru…I’ma fucking squirt…” You warn, already feeling yourself start to leak. Shit feels so fucking good he needs to publish a wikiHow on finger stroking pussy.

“Show me— go ‘head baby…you know I got you…” He exhales heavily, his other hand running through your hair to hold you close to him as he bullies your pussy like a pro, digging your coochie out so good, leaving her sorer than when you started. It’s a good soreness though, a sweet discomfort that’s nothing more than a reminder of how throughly he’s fucked you the past week. 

“Fuck— hmmmm!” You grip his hair tight, trying your damn hardest to hold back the moan that’s fighting to erupt from you, but it’s no use because all it takes is one final stroke to your g-spot and you're cumming harder than a bull.

“Oh my god!” You cry out, clenching down on his fingers so tight he has to pull them out. Taking his hands to strum your pussy to keep you squirting, your thighs shake with such a force you have no choice but to cling onto him for dear life. A wave of pleasure hits you so intense your entire body electrifies like static off an old box TV across your chest and shoulders. His fingers are pruney once he lets go, all gooed up and coated with sticky globs of your cum.

Wiping his fingers clean on your thigh, he effortlessly guides your soaked pussy all the way down his dick, and a sweet moan comes up your throat once you’re fully seated. You’re so damn wet you can’t even feel the condom anymore, if it was any darker in here you wouldn’t even be able to tell he had one on.

“Bet that rose can’t do it like me, huh?” He teases, two hands at your waist rocking you forward. “I got you making a mess. Wetting the bed all up...”

“Heh— please shut up…” You laugh, catching your breath. Because of course he’d make a joke eight inches deep in your pussy. No matter how good his dick is it’ll never take away from how corny he can be sometimes.

Regaining your strength, your hands find his shoulders again to steady yourself as you begin a slow pace bouncing on his dick. It starts off a lot sweeter this time, nothing like your usual. No creaking bed or pounding headboard, just the quiet sound of your soft moans and his low grunts filling the room. 

You’re fully lost in the moment when his hips start to move in perfect sync with yours, the delicious drag of his dick massaging your walls coaxes the softest, neediest whimpers past your lips. You’re so in love with his dick, you’re serious when you say you’ll fuck him up if you ever find out he’s sharing, because this shit right here makes no sense. It’s too damn good!

“More…right there…” You whine, needing to feel him deeper. Gripping your ass in response he presses his heels into the mattress, pulling your hips closer towards him to fuck up into you so well you have to put a hand to his chest to hold him back. 

You totally get the need for the condom now— thankful for it even— because with the way he’s fucking you this damn good you don’t think he could push you off quick enough before he’s busting his load. And as bad as you want it, you’d hate to dip into that hundred dollars he gave you to spend half of it on a Plan B. 

“Toru...Toru...Toru.." His name spills from your lips over and over as your brain goes fuzzy, slipping into a dizzy, dick drunken state. He's gripping you up just so right, and every stroke to your g-spot has you coming further undone, scattering every thought in your head until there's nothing left but his voice and touch occupying your mind. 

“You’re so fucking pretty baby…didn’t I say I’d fuck you everyday? Hmm?” His voice rings. 

“Thursday…Friday…Saturday…Sunday…” He murmurs, each day punctuated by a slow, deliberate thrust in sync with the roll of your hips. “You love this dick, don’t you?” He breathes, his hand coming down heavy giving a sharp slap against your ass. 

“I do…” You whine, almost like a declaration, as you pull his hands off your waist to guide them up your chest to cup your boobs, lacing your fingers through his to show him how to squeeze them just right. 

You feel so incredibly fucking sexy bouncing on his dick, riding him like it’s been a while and you miss him. You’re trying your hardest to keep it classy for him, but with one more slap to your ass, you’ll be begging him to take the safety off and hit your pussy raw from the side till it goes numb. You hope he’s loving this shit, because you’re not letting him get up in you for at least a week after this one. Your coochie needs a break!

“I wanna cum…” You whine, searching his face for permission, but he doesn’t hear you, too focused on working his own nut out.  

“I wanna cum…” You whine again, your hands come down to press against his chest to grind your pussy down hard on his dick. You got him buried so deep inside you the weight of your hips are holding down his. 

“You tryna be done already?” His hips still, falling flat as he watches you chase your orgasm all on your own.  

“No. Just don’t move…” You plead, trying to keep him from messing up your rhythm as you hit that sweet spot like a drum. It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to rise up your body, making your face flush hot and your heart rate pick up. You’re almost there! 

“Don’t move— don't move— I’m close…fuck…ahh” You babble out, toes curling. Almost there, you’re almost there!

“Damn boo…” The pet name rolls off his tongue effortlessly, bringing you into focus, your eyes meeting his right as he wraps a firm hand around your neck holding you in place. You got him pussy drunk acting rough and nasty just how you like it.  “When you start taking dick like this? You showing off for me today?” 

“Mmmm— fuck me after I cum…” You say through a smile, his thumb brushing gently underneath your chin. The look in your eyes clear— you’re trying to get broken off like a Kit-Kat. You want it rough, and you know he’ll deliver. He’s got you. 

“Say that again?” He asks as if he can’t understand a word you’re saying. There’s no denying that your voice turns him on. But it’s cool, you have no problem spelling it out for him. 

“I said I want you to fuck the shit out of me after I c— ahmp!” You yelp, a wave of giddy pleasure washing over you from the sting of his heavy hand landing across your ass again.  

“One more time for me?” He pulls you forward, a devilish look in his eyes waiting for you to soften into submission in his hands. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad.” You whine, voice dripping with so much need. You don't give a fuck how you sound right now, his dick drilling your pussy deep, it’s thick head messaging against your puffy walls. “I wanna feel all of it— oowww— mmmm— Fuck! You feel so fuckin— ahh good!—” You moan out, each and every one of his deep strokes punching the words from out of your chest.   

“You don’t want it.” He taunts, a smirk tugging at his lips daring you to prove him wrong— to show him just how badly you want it— to beg. The sudden shift in dominance sends your heart racing, and you find yourself rocking your hips even faster.

It’s this dynamic that you love the most: how one minute he’s soft and tender, talking you through with the filthiest yet gentlest whispers, and the next, commanding and rude, giving you the space to surrender completely and embrace your submissive side. It’s the perfect balance of give and take, and with him talking in your ear nasty like this, you’re more than willing to give it all up and let him lead. 

“Yes I do— fuck…fuck…” You moan breathlessly, lost in the wave of pleasure taking you under. “Make me cum…” You look down at him with those needy doll eyes, the kind that silently beg for more, even as you roll your hips slow and deliberate like the little minx you are, teasing him just enough that you know will drive him wild. 

Every move is a silent challenge, a tease, a true test of his strength and you’re doing it because you know exactly what he wants, and he’s already right there ready to meet you. His hands find your waist again, gripping you firmly, and that awaiting spark of dominance lights up his eyes as he pulls you in close.

No one but him can bring this side out of you, the one that craves to be taken, to be pushed to the edge. You know he’s been holding back, waiting for you to push him there, and now, you’ve done it. His hand then tightens around your frame, the tension in his body radiating through every inch of him, and that tells you everything you need to know; you’ve got him right where you want him, you can let go. 

“You not gonna run?” He presses, but you know your answer is meaningless. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried. 

“No—” You whine, the sound barely escaping your throat as you bounce, the strain in your knees starting to intensify with each movement as you chase your orgasm. 

“No, what?”  Another good grab to your ass, this time with two hands and enough grip to bounce you on his dick himself, fucking up into with a force that causes you to fall forward, nails digging into his shoulders as you cling onto him. “Tell me baby…go ‘head.”

“Fuck…Gojo— Go— AHMP!” Another heavy slap to your ass before you can catch your breath to repeat it. “I’m not gonna run Gojo— I'm not gonna run—”

“You know I love hearing you say it…” He beathes heavy, one hand now threading through your hair to grip your tresses tight, the other fucking you down his dick. “You gonna cum on this dick? Yeah?”

“Yes! Fuck— Fuck— Gojo! Gojo!” You choke out, orgasm fully taking over each and every one of your senses. 

“Again baby…come on…this your dick right…” He breathes, voice low and hot in your ear, hips bucking up fast as another heavy slap comes down to your ass. “Don't run from it…don’t run from it.”

“Fucckkkk— Oh my godddddd! Keep going! Keep going! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes!” You cry out, your pussy clenching so tightly around him that you can feel the rim of the condom scratching against your entrance. The intensity of your grip threatens to pull it loose as it’s already slipped off some. 

“Mmmmm— there you gooo~“ He coos, sensing you reached your climax seeing the way your jaw goes slack and your grip around him tightens. 

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You’re begging like slut now throwing your arms around him to tuck behind his neck. Feeling you lose yourself, you take your fingers to work them up to brush along his undercut, anything to try and keep you grounded.

“Kiss on my neck…yeah…just like that for me— “ He moans, as you press your lips against his skin, licking hungry, wet, and sloppy. “Just like that…”

“Where you want me to nut?” His question meets your ear with urgency, the pace of his thrusts quickening in such a way that you can tell he’s close to cumming.

“Anywhere…I don’t care—” You gasp, words spilling, your body trembling with anticipation. Stupidest fucking question he could ask right now. He can bust it on your tits, ass, pussy, or even your face. You don’t care as long as his hot cum drips off your body, ready for him to scoop up and feed to you like you’re Suki.

“Shit!— Get up! Get up!” He groans, lifting you up just enough to pull off the condom to jerk his dick. 

“Gimme your hand…” He takes yours to grab his length, wrapping his large hand around yours, guiding you as you both help work his nut out. Both of your bodies are hot and sweaty, and his heavy breathing is perfectly in sync with yours. Your thighs coming down from a trembling mess.

“Like that baby….mmmm…you gonna kiss it when you're done?” He hums through a smile, head thrown back in pure bliss. It doesn’t take more than a few tight strokes for you to feel his dick pulsate, his hot cum spills out running down both your knuckles sticking your fingers together. 

“Oowww— it's so much!” You giggle, endorphins still having you feeling like you're on cloud nine as you watch amazed by the amount of cum he’s spilling, feeling a warm milky streak run sticky down the back of your hand. 

“Fuck—” He exhales, chest heaving as he starts to come down from his climax. His arms drop limply to his sides, but you stay right where you’re sitting on his chest, reaching back as you keep working the cum out of his still hard dick. 

You can feel him twitch with every pull as you coax the last drops of cum from him. There’s just something so sexy about the way his breath stutters and his toes crack as they curl with each slow tug…like you’re draining him of every ounce of cum he has left.

“That’s it…baby…that’s it…alright that’s it…stop…” He warns, voice strained and his face balling up, eyes shut tight as he tries to fight back a guttural moan. You feel his abs tense up underneath you, throwing off your balance but you take a hand to his chest— now flushed red and glistening with sweat— to hold him steady, fist tightening around his dick to jerk him quicker. 

“Uh-uh, there’s more, look…lemme get it all out for you.” You tease with a playful laugh, tightening your hold around him. “Just relax, it doesn’t hurt.” You purr, your voice dropping low and sweet. More cum spilling with every pull. 

“Oh my g— Yooooo! Stop! Stop! Stop! Bro! Stop!” He gasps, body jerking involuntarily from not being used to the overstimulation. His hips shake under your grip as if trying to escape, but he’s trapped under the weight you’re pressing down on him.

“Bro!? I’m not your bro!” You scoff with a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the fucking nerve to address you by anything other than something ladylike! Goofy ass, now you’re really not letting up. He must have you confused for someone else. 

“I swear to god,  if you make me nut again— Fuck!” He growls, head tipping back as he wraps a tight hand around your wrist trying to stop you.

“Satoru, you don’t scare me— let go!” You mock, your hand steadily working his dick, grip unwavering even as his strength weakens less and less from every stroke.

“What happened to all that shit you were talking, hmm?” You pause, watching him closely. “Bet that hand can’t do it like mine?” 

“I’ma fuck you up after this…I’m so serious…watch.” He breathes out, a shaky laugh breaking through, his grip on your wrist loosens completely as he gives in, letting you milk him for everything he’s got. He’s probably dead serious too, but the way his fine ass is squirming under you is too entertaining to give a damn. And to be honest, that just sounds like a promise for round two and that’s not striking fear in your heart— or pussy. Ain't no fun when the rabbits got the gun now is it? We can go till the fucking bed breaks boo, y’all got all the time in the world today!

“Schhhhhoooowwww— oh my god!” He groans, his plump lips parting with a low, desperate growl. “Alright c’mon, chill! Stop!” 

“Keep lying telling people I snore, and I’ma tell your friends you moan like a bitch." You taunt, leaning closer. Pressing more of your weight down on him, your strokes turn into slow teasing massages around the tip of his dick with your palm. 

“You still mad over that?” His eyes open meeting yours as his hands grip the sheets in an attempt to hold back from cumming. He can try to look intimidating with those blue eyes all he wants, but they aren’t moving you.

“I don’t get mad, I get even.” You bite back with a whole lot of sass, letting his dick go the moment you feel your hand start to cramp up. He jerks slightly, caught off guard by your sudden release. “Told you to stop trying me.”

“Clean yourself up~” You shoot him a look, wiping your cum-sticky hand off his chest as you ease yourself off his body and slide off the bed.

“Fuck you…” You hear him mumble under his breath with a laugh as you search the sheets for your phone, panties, and top before making your way to the bathroom to pee.

“What!?” You give him a look back, the fakest mean scowl you can muster up right now. 

“Nothing— Fuck…” The back of his head hits the pillow again as he exhales deeply. 

"Oh, okay! Like I won’t sit my ass on your chest and kill you. Talk to me nice." You fire back playfully, slipping on your top after giving up on the search for your panties— probably somewhere tangled up in the sheets.

Finding your footing, you cross the room to unplug the diffuser you left on throughout the night. With a gentle click, its light shuts off. You take a moment to gather yourself before stepping out and closing the door firmly behind you, leaving him to figure out what the hell just happened. You too are going to need a few minutes alone to yourself after this one. 

[ghost-in-a-cup]

hey guys, maybe before you pirate LEARN SOME ETIQUETTE

why are these important? well, if you openly share the sites, they wil get shut down. corporations are willing to copyright strike anything. you are only going to make accessing these resources harder.

remember: LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS

if you want to share resources, don't post them on public forums like tumblr, twitter,instagram or any popular site. remember how zlibrary shut down? yall want that to happen to more sites? do you?

also like if they get shut down, people who can't access these otherwise because they don't have the means for it or its banned in their country are losing access.

Don't post links online. Only share in private conversations.

try and avoid linking the sites directly. a workaround is sharing the downloaded files via other file hosting sites similar to google drive and drop box

DON'T SHARE ON PUBLIC FORUMS. EVER. PLEASE

Use a VPN. i personally like proton vpn, it is a freemium model but the free version works fine.

These are just the basics, there are others but please keep these in mind.

[wolverigrl]

Thirst Tweets

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I’ve got a lot going on right now, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to writing. There will definitely be more parts, but not this week. I also have two oneshots saved that might go online this week, so don’t be surprised if you see them.

I'd be happy about some feedback and just a reminder to you, I have my requests open, so feel free sending some of your ideas! :)

Warnings: tiny bit of fluff and some swearing here and there

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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Returning to New York felt like waking up from a beautiful dream I never wanted to end. Sydney had been a paradise - sunshine, the salty breeze from the ocean, and Hugh. God, Hugh. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, behaving like love-drunk teenagers. Whether it was our sunset strolls by the harbor or cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets, we found ourselves growing closer every day. There was something magical about that time - like we were in a world of our own, free from distractions.

Hugh would sometimes visit his family, leaving me to explore Sydney on my own. I’d walk through the city, admiring the sights, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. But no matter where I went, I was always thinking about him. It wasn’t long before I’d be back at his place, sharing stories of my solo adventures while he teased me with that wicked smile.

Of course, the paparazzi had a field day. Every moment seemed to be caught on camera - whether we were laughing together at the beach, wandering the streets hand in hand, or lounging in the park. There were endless photos of us everywhere, but I didn't mind. Honestly, I found it kind of funny how we had become some sort of internet sensation. I had even started posting more pictures of Hugh on my socials - candid shots of him with funny, flirty captions. The fans ate it up, especially when I started liking and commenting on their fan edits of Hugh. They said I was fangirling hard, and maybe I was, but could you blame me? The man is perfect.

The hate we used to get was slowly dying down, too. People were starting to root for us. It felt good.

Today, though, was on a whole new level of fun. We were shooting a "Thirst Tweets" video, and it was as chaotic as you'd imagine. The energy in the studio was electric as we settled into the plush chairs, both of us trying to stifle our giggles before the chaos of "Thirst Tweets" began. I glanced over at Hugh, who looked far too calm for what was about to go down, his long fingers tapping lightly on his knee, his face carrying that familiar smirk that always made my heart race. It was like he knew exactly what was coming and how I’d react.

The first tweet was mine to read. I grabbed the small card from the pile and cleared my throat dramatically. “Okay, here we go…” I scanned the text quickly before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, okay. ‘I would let y/n punch me in the face just to say I’ve been touched by perfection.’ ” I couldn’t help it - I snorted.

Hugh chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “We’re starting off strong, aren’t we?” he teased.

I leaned over, nudging him with my shoulder. “What can I say? I have violent fans.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Perfection though? Can’t argue with that." he said, giving me a wink that made my face heat up.

It was Hugh’s turn next. He grabbed his card, took a quick glance, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “Alright, here’s a good one. ‘I’d like to officially announce that Hugh’s arms should be declared a public service. Like, those things could end world hunger. Use them for good, sir.’ "

I let out a loud laugh, slapping my knee. “See, this is what I’m saying! They should be protected. Maybe insured.”

He flexed a little - just enough to make me roll my eyes - and grinned. “I’ll take it under consideration.” he joked. The crew behind the camera was already in stitches, but I could tell this was just the beginning.

The next tweet was handed again to Hugh, and he gave it a quick scan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, this one's good. 'Hugh, you can call me baby girl and tell me to sit down, and I would happily obey for the rest of my life.' "

I raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in my laughter. "I mean.. you do have that commanding presence."

He turned to me with a devilish grin, his voice deep and teasing. "You think I should try it out, love? Call you baby girl and see what happens?"

I immediately blushed, my laughter betraying how flustered I was. "Oh no, let's not give the fans more material!"

He chuckled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Too late, baby."

He took the card with a dramatic flourish, his eyes quickly scanning it before he burst out laughing, almost choking on his words. “Oh no, this one’s for you, love. ‘Y/n really out here fangirling over Hugh like the rest of us. She’s one of us now.’ ”

I groaned, though I couldn’t hide my smile. "Listen, I am not fangirling!" I protested weakly, but Hugh gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it.

"Oh, you totally are!" he teased, nudging me playfully. “You’re in deep.”

I shot back with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m a little obsessed with you. Can you blame me?”

The crew behind the camera was losing it by now, and I could hear some of them whispering amongst themselves, probably trying to stifle their own laughter. But we were just getting started.

I grabbed another card, still grinning. "Hugh could choke me with his biceps, and I'd die happy."

Hugh started laughing again, clearly enjoying himself. "There's a lot of love for my arms in this, isn't there?"

I looked at him, pretending to be serious. "I mean, have you seen your arms?"

He flexed again, playing it up for the camera. "I guess I have no choice but to deliver." I snorted loudly and leaned against him while laughing and hiding my face behind my right hand.

Hugh took the next tweet, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, here’s a spicy one. ‘Hugh, please, just throw me against a wall. Like, I’m begging you.’” He read it in such a deadpan tone that I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

He raised an eyebrow at me as I tried to compose myself. “Well?”

I fanned myself dramatically. “That’s a strong request, but relatable."

Hugh opened his mouth to say something but instead snorted with laughter and shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

I picked up the next card, already giggling before I even read it aloud. " 'Y/n’s laugh could cure my depression, I swear. She could rob a bank and I’d still be like, wow, what a cute laugh!' "

Hugh looked over at me, grinning. “See? You do have a cute laugh.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my cheeks were burning. “I mean, if it works for bank robberies, maybe I should test it out.”

He gave me a look, smirking. “I’m not bailing you out.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to." I replied, laughing. “I’d just charm my way out of it.”

I grabbed the next card from the pile, glancing over at Hugh before reading it aloud. "Y/n, how do I sign up to be your sugar baby? I don't need much - just a little attention and maybe to sleep on Hugh's abs as a pillow."

Hugh let out a loud laugh, his eyes widening. "My abs, huh?" He leaned back, pretending to flex for a moment before winking at the camera. "I didn't realize they had so many applications."

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to hide my grin. "I mean, you have to admit, they're not wrong. Those abs could solve a lot of problems."

He smirked, leaning in closer to me, his voice dropping a bit. "Is that what you think about every time you cuddle me, baby? Using me as your personal pillow?"

I nudged him, trying not to laugh. "What can I say? I'm resourceful."

The next few tweets were just as wild, some downright inappropriate but in a way that had us both cracking up. Hugh read a particularly bold one aloud: " 'Hugh in that leather jacket… sir, I’m on my knees. What do I need to do to get you to ruin my life?' " He paused, glancing over at me with a devilish grin. “What do they need to do?”

I covered my face, laughing into my hands. “Oh God. This is escalating so much!”

He looked at the camera and lowering his voice. “Maybe just say ‘please?’ ”

The crew burst out laughing again, and I could see the camera shaking slightly as the person filming struggled to keep it steady. By this point, even the sound guy was wiping away tears of laughter.

Hugh grabbed the next tweet from the pile, his eyes quickly scanning it before a sly grin spread across his face.

"Okay," he began, in that rich voice that could melt butter, "Here’s a fun one: ‘Hugh Jackman could breathe in my direction, and I’d immediately drop to my knees, ready to serve.’"

I let out an involuntary snort, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my!" I gasped between fits of giggles. "They went straight for it!"

Hugh, trying to maintain composure, turned toward the camera with a half smile. "Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm." he said, and then turned to me. "Is that something I should be adding to my skill set?"

I swatted his arm playfully, still laughing. "Please, let’s not turn this into a live demonstration."

Hugh chuckled and nodded towards the camera. “Fair enough. But hey, I’m flattered."

I grabbed the next tweet, scanning it quickly and feeling my face heat up even more. "Oh, this one’s good. ‘Y/n’s legs are so long, they could wrap around me twice, and I’d happily suffocate.’"

Hugh let out a low whistle, his eyes flicking down to my legs and back up to my face with a teasing grin. "I mean, they’re not wrong." he quipped, making the entire crew laugh again.

I gave him a playful serious look. "Careful, you might encourage more of this behavior."

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Too late."

I passed the next tweet to him, still trying to suppress my laughter. Hugh's eyebrows shot up when he read it. “Oh, wow, okay. ‘Hugh could literally break me in half, and I’d say thank you.’” He paused, a devilish grin creeping onto his face as he looked up at me. “I’m sensing a theme here.”

The crew behind the camera was howling at this point again, and I could barely breathe through the laughter. "I mean… who wouldn't be thankful?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Hugh laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Should I be concerned for you people, or…?”

"Concerned, maybe. Grateful, definitely,” I replied, still giggling.

He handed me the next card, his smirk widening. “Your turn. Let’s see if it gets wilder.”

I took the card and immediately had to press my lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. “Oh God, here we go again… ‘Y/n could ruin my life, and I’d thank her by paying her rent for the rest of the year.’ ”

Hugh’s laugh boomed across the room, his head falling back as he tried to catch his breath. “Well, if you’re ever looking for a side hustle…”

I gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, rent’s expensive in New York. I might just take them up on that."

He wiped away a tear of laughter, still grinning. “You’d definitely have no shortage of offers.”

Another tweet landed in Hugh’s hands, and he gave it a quick read before raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh jeez, we’re diving straight into the deep end now. ‘Hugh Jackman’s voice is so hot, I’d let him read the phone book to me while I climax.’”

My jaw dropped. "NO." I immediately covered my face with my hands, laughing so hard. I would lie, if I'd say my body doesn't hurt of laughter by now.

Hugh, ever the professional, barely flinched. He just gave the camera a deadpan look. “The phone book? Really? That’s a bit outdated, but… hey, I’m here for it.”

I peeked at him from behind my hands, still laughing uncontrollably. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?”

He winked at me, his voice dropping an octave. “If that’s what the people want, who am I to deny them?”

I playfully shoved him, still blushing furiously, but loving every second of the ridiculousness. “We need to talk about boundaries later." I joked.

He shot me a grin. “Boundaries? What are those?”

I took a deep breath, composing myself enough to grab the next tweet. The second I read it, I was gone again. “Oh, this one’s golden. ‘Y/n, I will pay you $1,000 to sit on my face. I don’t even need to breathe. Just consider it.’”

Hugh burst out laughing, clutching his chest and wiping tears from his eyes. “A thousand dollars? Only? That’s a bargain!”

I covered my face again, my shoulders shaking with laughter. “This is officially out of control.”

Hugh leaned in closer, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on. You’re underselling yourself. You’re worth at least $10,000.”

I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, babe.”

By this point, the crew behind the cameras was barely keeping it together. The laughter was contagious, and it felt like the entire room was on the verge of tears from how absurd the tweets were getting.

Hugh, still grinning, took the next card, glancing at it before giving me a cheeky look. "Alright, last one for me. ‘Hugh, you could crush me between your thighs, and I’d die a happy person.’”

I dissolved into laughter again, leaning back in my chair. "See, this is what I’ve been saying!" I managed between giggles.

Hugh turned to the camera, looking far too amused. “I’m sensing a lot of… very creative fans.”

I wiped away tears of laughter, still grinning. “Creative is one word for it.”

With that, the video wrapped up, and the crew finally stopped laughing long enough to give us a round of applause. Hugh’s charm and my endless giggling made for the perfect combination, and I could tell this video was going to go viral the second it dropped.

One of the cameramen approached us, grinning. “I’ve been doing this for years, and that was easily the funniest shoot I’ve ever been a part of.”

Hugh smiled, thanking him, while I nodded in agreement. “That was insane!” I said, still feeling the buzz of excitement. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard.”

After the shoot, we headed back to Hugh’s place to get ready for dinner. Ryan and Blake were coming over with their kids and dogs, and Hugh was in charge of cooking, much to his delight. He loved being in the kitchen, and it was one of those little things about him that always made me swoon.

While he started prepping in the kitchen, I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. I slipped into something simple but nice, touching up my makeup before making my way back to Hugh. He had his back turned, fully focused on whatever he was chopping up, so I tiptoed up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his back.

He jumped, clearly startled, but then relaxed into my embrace. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he chuckled, setting down the knife.

I grinned, squeezing him tighter. "Sorry, couldn’t resist." My hands slid over his chest as I pressed closer. "You look ridiculously good in that shirt, by the way."

He glanced down at himself - just a casual button up and jeans - but it worked for him in a way that made my heart race. “Oh yeah?” he asked, turning his head slightly to look at me with a playful smirk.

“Yeah. Like.. annoyingly good." I teased, letting my fingers linger on the fabric. “Distractingly good. It's kind of a problem.”

He turned fully then, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaned in close, his voice low. “Maybe we should skip dinner then?"

I bit my lip, laughing softly as I pushed against his chest. "Nice try. We’re not blowing off dinner with Blake and Ryan. You know they’d never let us hear the end of it."

Before we could get any further into our flirt, the doorbell rang, and we both groaned. The Reynolds were right on time, of course.

With one last grin at each other, we reluctantly pulled apart. Hugh grabbed a towel to wipe his hands before we made our way to the door. When we opened it, we were greeted by a whirlwind of chaos - Ryan with the kids and Blake holding onto the dogs. It was loud and warm, the kind of energy that made you feel instantly at home.

Blake gave me a tight hug while Ryan and Hugh exchanged their usual friendly banter. We all gathered in the dining room, Hugh finishing up in the kitchen while Blake and I set the table, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the occasional bark from the dogs. Hugh caught my eye from across the table more than once, and each time, I couldn’t help but smile. This was our life now - full of love, friends, and shared moments that felt like they could last forever.

And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing.

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1

Next part

[clownfettis]

Happy late birthday spm, this is my love letter to this damn game asdhdjgk

Screenshots from here and source here

Notes and easter eggs list below

Mario and Luigi's usernames are the only one that use _

Timpani and Blumiere are the only username that use -

Luvbi's name is "The Pure of Heart" in elizabeth English

For Jaydes, Asphodel Meadows is one of the greek mythology afterlife, specifically the one the underwhere is based on

Merlon's numbers are because there's canonicaly multiple Merlon, so they're seperating each others' accounts with numbers. The number are spm's release date

Tiptron was brave enough to publicly take the username "Tippi" because it's not like Timpani"s gonna use it again. So she pretty much went "it's free real estate"

Peach is keeping her names serious due to her status. Bowser does not care lmao

Blumiere's mouth and eye are blue like how when he was defeated, rather than when he was hateful and corrupted

Timpani's hair band mimics butterfly antennas, her colours are from me putting a sepia filter on her pixl form

Mimi is wearing her post game outfit. The form she shape-shifted into is also important and related to her backstory, though I'm not sharing that just yet : 3c

Nassy's design is based on Swoops, which is what i hc she was before she ate Bleck's dreams, and transformed into a Swoop/Human/Tribe of darkness mix from Bleck's dreams of Timpani, in the hope on getting him to love her if she looked more similar to them. Her eye colour is from the square effect when she uses her mind control power. She's not wearing her glasses due to it being postgame, and thus the start of her development into accepting herself and hiding away less, they're not reading glasses but sunglasses due to being sensitive to light (and also hiding some of her face and facial expressions)

Peach and O'Chunks know how to cook/bake, so they're the one commenting on how she made it/how Peach couldn't replicate it despite being a master baker

Luvbi, Grambi and Jaydes are here because, if the witches have tv, then they must also have internet access, and it is canon in my post game that they keep up with what the gang is up to online, since it's not everyday they meet people that can come and go from the afterlife and who they owe their life to. Though obviously it would be from myspace rather than tiktok since they have 2007 technology. Jaydes and Grambi wouldn't post or comment anything, but Luvbi is actively making friends. Also the idea of god himself coming to your comment section to go "what the hell" at your cooking skills is too funny

Nassy is in Saffron's kitchen and wearing an appron designed like hers, since the post game shows she lives in Flopside now. I decided on Sweet Smile rather than Hot Fraun because i thought Dyllis' temperament might scare away Nassy since she's never cooked before, and Saffron would be more supportive

And, well, you saw one of her first attempts GSXGDHI Do not let her in da kitchen

She clearly got the role of secretary just because of how attached she was to Bleck and wanted to be useful. But the whole point is that's she's living for someone else (him), while also trying to be someone else (timpani)

So her not being the "perfect girlfriend" is important to me

Bad at encouragement, bad at team spirit, bad at cooking, bad at comforting, bad at advice

Just, take the cliche of the nurturing perfect mom-friend, and make it the opposite

She's trying to get on Timpani's level, when she doesn't even really want to or enjoy any of this new persona she'd need to use. Because she's not Timpani, and faking who you are to get someone to date you is such a bad move that will crash in the long run

ALSO ALSO TIPTRON SAYING SHE'S ALSO TIPPI, YET TIMPANI REPLIED WITH SASS AND SARCASM, WHILE SHE MADE A JOKE CONNECTED TO ANALYTICAL KNOWLEDGE

TIPTRON IS MORE ANALYTICAL PIXL THAN SASSY TIMPANI

@ooftale @jester--addict get yall's butts over here fqhdhfjf

[noircheols]

choi seungcheol 𖧷 kisses are always promises

🌷 (no ordinary love) ⸺ ❛❛ a love story for people who deserve peace of mind and torment themselves for being unable to give others the same. ❜❜

PREFACE. it's no shock that life is unpredictable. it's why you put so much effort into being the only stable, perfect, thing in your parent's lives. but as they grow old, good thing you have a trick up your sleeve to ward them off! it involve dancing around the truth and and the cute guy you matched with on a dating app!

INCLUDES. fake dating, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. suggestive, food, cursing, nobody is a good person, kissing, this is really poorly written tbh (i was so tired from midterms but realized i had to still do this uhhhh), pet name (just one= sweetheart), theres an insta post where the reader is femme/pale PLEASE TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT i couldnt find anything gender neutral

WORD COUNT. 4020

AUTHOR'S NOTE. first installment of the valentines event!! thank you to all the kind words shared when the event mlist was shared. im so sorry for the delay, i had a ton of midterms <///3

TAGLIST. @jjjjeonww @shirebusking @shinwonderful @tokitosun @unlikelysublimekryptonite @wonkierideul @flwrshwa @syluslittlecrows @macapunoz @paradiseoflosers @seokmn

open! please feel free to dm/reply/ask

NETWORKS. @kstrucknet

🌷 ⸺ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗡𝗘

What do men want?

On dates, specifically.

Was it an outfit which left nothing to the imagination? Or was it a shiny new car? A cheque to buy a PlayStation? How about a romantic dinner date with the candles flickering? Or would they prefer a simple night in with take-out and watching Love is Blind?

Luckily, you knew what men wanted. Well, more like what just one man wanted. You zoomed in on his profile picture. Choi Seungcheol, the name read. That was the beauty of dating apps, people weirdly feel more comfortable sharing their interests and what they wanted with random strangers online as opposed to physical people.

You don't know how you two matched. You both had graduated from the same business school and fawned over your bubble tea orders. You liked matcha and cheese foam with regular pearls, and he liked strawberry coconut milk tea with cherry-flavoured popping pearls. You smiled at the thought of somebody with such a serious vibe enjoying a treat like that. You both frequented the same gym, although you preferred the stairmaster and he liked cable machines.

He was also cute, but you don't wanna come off as shallow.

After a week of back-and-forth flirting (which had you squealing into your pillow and throwing your phone at the wall) on your dating app's chatroom, Seungcheol insisted that you two meet. You had him hooked, and that was just you talking through a screen.

Seungcheol, on the other side of the screen, couldn't lie that he started biting his nails once he hit send on a simple text finally asking you out. Was he rushing things!? Normally people wait for a month at least before meeting somebody in person, and he has had a bad habit of rushing into love—

YOU: i would love to!! let's meet at 3:30 pm next friday! i get off work early by then :3

As relief washed over him, Seungcheol’s eyes crinkled from happiness. He never smiled this much in person for his other dates, what's wrong with him!?

Unfortunately for him, you had other plans.

3:30 PM on Friday arrived dreadfully slow. You counted down the seconds— there were 315,000 of them exactly and felt your heartbeat pick up the pace after every "Mississippi" that followed.

You weren't just nervous because of being with an attractive man, but nervous for other reasons you couldn't bring to tell him over text. You had an issue. Something you never could have believed impacted you.

Growing up, you had a perfect relationship with your parents (as long as you upheld their standards). It was smooth sailing, and that peace of mind you gave your parents was the most important thing to you. You found that when things were stable, things were quiet. That gave you peace of mind. Stability was all you yearned for, but that stability was placed under threat since last month.

"When will you find somebody?"

It initially started as a simple question Each question earned the same response: "Later". It didn't bother you because it was the same as being asked "How are you doing" over the phone. But then came all your friends getting engaged.

Suddenly everybody started pestering you. Every single time your parents met up with you, the conversation would always morph into a lecture on finding a husband.

It was after a long night of arguing at dinner that you succumbed to an advertisement on TikTok and downloaded a dating app. Who were you to ignore your parent's wishes, especially if it meant they would go back to being quiet?

It was that reason which led to you sitting at a cafe a seat right by the window. 

Opening your phone, you check the time. It was 3:25 PM. You made sure you arrived at least five minutes early to prepare what you would say. The February sun filtered through the cafe and bounced off your phone's screen. You opened your notes app and checked off your steps.

☑ STEP ONE: Find the perfect man.

☑ STEP TWO: Flirt with him and organize a date.

You notice a familiar man walking towards the cafe with pouty lips and thick eyebrows that meet your gaze. God, he looked even cuter in real life. In his hands were a bouquet of pink tulips. Why did he have to be so perfect?

Seungcheol's face changed into a giddy grin, and he waved at you. Waving was a simple gesture, but the way his eyes glittered made your stomach turn inside out. Seungcheol entered the cafe, the door softly creaking behind him. When he thinks deeper about it, he realizes it's the first moment you two shared outside of your phone screen. A simple gesture which marked the beginning of a new relationship. Would this be the first wave of many?

"I remember you said you liked receiving flowers." he started, handing you the bouquet. Your eyes glimmered as you let out a shy thank you.

"I can't believe you remembered!" You gushed over the bouquet, gently fiddling with the pastel pink petals. "I sent that text at 2 AM, I would think you were half-asleep and didn't care,"

"Well, it's impossible to not care about you," Seungcheol scratched the small of his back, shifting eye contact so you couldn't look at his flustered expression. "I've never been to this cafe before." clearing his throat, he changed the topic.

You placed the flowers on the seat next to you where your office bag was. "Me too! It's such a disappointment because the cafe is just a couple of blocks from my office.”

Seungcheol scanned the QR code on the table and a tab popped up, showing various drinks and meals. "The menu says they use ceremonial grade matcha shipped straight from Japan too."

"Really? I made a mistake to not come here earlier then." You laughed. "But maybe it's a good thing we got to try this place together."

Surprisingly, Seungcheol was very shy off-screen. He sometimes stuttered and blushed when he complimented you. But that didn't stop him from making the most of this date. He was gentlemanly, offering to order for the two of you, and made sure to sneak in small compliments.

But there was a boiling point where you couldn't keep up with the banter and needed to expose your intentions.

"I'm just curious, what made you download a dating app in the first place?" You asked, taking your fork and prodding at the grilled salmon.

"Well, I..." Seungcheol froze mid-bite. "I got out of a relationship a year ago. Thought we were perfect for each other, but she didn't want to get married."

You knew how these stories progressed. "And you did?" he nodded. "I thought that maybe if I stuck with her long enough, she would change her mind."

Seungcheol gave a half-smile as he recalled the past. It was never meant to be from the start, but he was selfish enough to push through on something she never wanted.

"We ended things off on good terms. But, I'm getting older, and I just like having somebody to devote myself to." Your eyes softened as you looked at the man across from you, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"I know it's stupid to find somebody who also wants the same as me through a dating app—"

"It's not." You cut him off. "There's no harm in trying." You reached out for his hand, gently swiping over his knuckles in a reassuring motion. Seungcheol couldn't shake off how soft your hands were. He knew he would go to bed wishing he was holding your hand instead of his pillows.

"What about you? Why did you download the app?"

Now for the next step.

☐ STEP THREE: Tell him the truth.

"I..." You struggled to find the words. "What's the nicest way of saying 'I wanna find somebody just so I can shut my parents up'?" You plastered an awkward smile. Seungcheol froze as you let go of his hand. You explained your situation to him as much as possible. "I normally don't do this kinda stuff, but here I am doing just that." The pleading tone in your voice was pathetic. No way would he help you.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Well, the algorithm doesn't necessarily put people who wanna get married to people who just wanna prove a point," Seungcheol paused, trying to process the situation. On one hand, he's convinced he met the perfect person and is ready to give everything up. On the other hand? That person is interested in just using him as a means to an end.

"I understand if you don't wanna help, but you're practically my parent's idea of a perfect son-in-law. I promise, once I convince them I'm dating somebody, they'll leave me alone!" You begged quietly, hoping nobody else in the cafe would hear you. "Once that happens, I'll leave you alone too. I'll do anything as payment! I can pay you—"

"No way." Seungcheol cut you off. "I'm not gonna let you pay me to pretend to be your boyfriend."

"Are you saying..?"

"I'll help." Seungcheol grinned softly, easing your anxiety. "I don't mind, as long as this doesn't get in the way of finding my actual soulmate instead of," he looked up at you. "My fake soulmate."

🌷 ⸺ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢

Most love affairs don’t start with contracts, but your alleged one with Seungcheol did. But before you could spread the “good news” of your managing to manipulate the cute guy you met off a dating app into a fake relationship.

The rest of your first date was spent deciding a common ground and learning each other’s boundaries.

Once you returned home, you emailed a Word document with various terms and conditions. The most striking and arguably most important were as listed below: 

1) Weekly meet-ups to devise our strategy. 2) No physical touching (i.e. kissing) 3) Can meet outside of dates as friends, but cannot go to each other’s apartments. 4) No money will be involved!! (courtesy of cheol) 5) We can see people outside of this. The contract will go void once we find other people (WHO WE ACTUALLY LOVE!)

The second you emailed the document, Seungcheol replied. 

Choi Seungcheol To: (YOU) Why are there 24 pages of this thing? what have i gotten myself into? 

You shyly smiled at the teasing, tucking your phone back into your bag. You had sent him schedules of calendar dates too, and organized every topic according to each hour. Strict schedules to provide a sense of comfort. Living life by a deadline was the proper way to live.

Seungcheol begged to differ, finding them rigid and inflexible. He just liked talking to you, and his charm managed to warp time.

You would forget the clock was even ticking, that you had a schedule, and why he was even here in the first place. It’s weird how you two share the same sense of humour, the same aspirations, almost everything. You two exchanged moments and didn't shy away from sensitive topics.

"Do you believe in love?" Seungcheol asked you over the phone one night. There was a dreamy tone that lingered in his voice.

"No." You curtly answered. "Lemme guess? You do." You smiled.

"Sorry for being a romantic." The man sarcastically responded, causing you to chuckle. "What's not to like about being in love?" You rolled your eyes. The experience of being in love was a horrible one, in your experience. And by experience, you mean what you had learned from never engaging in romance.

Your parents had always warded you off, saying that relationships were distracting because love was all you could think about. You had seen far too many examples of your friends suffering from every emotion when they were in love. Happiness, anger, fear, but never calm. You were fearful of the day you fell in love, and until now, never allowed yourself to date. Although, your relationship with Seungcheol is purely fake.

"That it will never be perfect." You snapped back. "Perfect love is the kind that makes you feel safe, where y'know that things will always be ok. But love keeps you awake at night and makes you worry. It's too much of a hassle." You cut yourself off before you could speak without thinking. But love feels perfect with you. You make me feel safe. "I don't think I'll ever find anybody that can make love feel perfect." Except for you.

Days fell into night, and then came the dreaded “goodbye”. You wish you could ask him to spend the night at your place, but you knew that would breach your contract. You already had him in an awkward position as your fake boyfriend, even if he claimed he was comfortable with that title.

You even posted him on Instagram. Soft-launching works wonders when it comes to sprouting rumours. You made sure to send Seungcheol all the screenshots of the DMs and comments you received on those posts. It made you feel like a giddy teenager again, pulling an elaborate scheme by dangling your new "boyfriend" in front of everybody.

But there was one thing you never told him. That it excited you to be in a relationship with him. But to fall for him would be an insult to him. How would he feel, knowing you were only interested in using him and the next Crushing, with a capital "c", on him?

So, for the sake of his peace, you decided internally to lie about your true feelings.

COMMENTS:

@/friend1: WHAT IS HAPPENING???

@/friend2: jokes on u im handsomer and richer

@/friend3: i always thought u were too much of a stuck-up to ever find a boyfriend....

@/friend4: heh.... and here i thought i was special to u. heh, guess u can't trust anybody these days. these huzz aint loyal 😭😭😡😡😡

@/friend5: WHO is the majestic shyt next to u 👁️

Wednesday arrived, and you had both decided to walk at a park after work. Children played on the nearby playground and you could hear faint barking accompanied by a "fetch!"

The first thing Seungcheol remarked was how he should have brought his puppy with him, and that he thought it was only fair that if you meet his son if he was gonna meet your parents.

“My parents are inviting us over for dinner next week!” You shared the good news. You both sat at a park bench, his hand resting on the backrest and just behind your shoulders. You could feel the heat radiate off of Cheol. He was close enough to make you aware of his presence, but far enough to make you yearn for more. “Do you remember everything I taught you?” 

“And checked the Quizlet you made me? Sadly, yes.” he chuckled. 

“My parents are going to love you! And then we can stop and just be friends!”

But was that really what you wanted? To just be friends? Seungcheol was endlessly attractive, and no matter what, was caring. You didn't feel anxious around him. If anything, you were being reeled into him. It was nothing like the anxiousness your friends had told you about with their lovers, but what if this was just a trap!? What if you were letting down your guard!?

"I dunno, I'm still pretty nervous at the idea of meeting them." Seungcheol's chest heaved. "The way you describe them makes them sound strict. Like they're sharks and can smell fear! Are you sure you're not just taking me to a shark tank and throwing away the key!?"

"Calm down!!" You console him. "My parents will love you! You're practically their type!"

"But we also have to convince them that I'm your type too!"

"That won't be too hard!"

"Oh yeah, why? 'Cause it's true?" Seungcheol turned to you and smirked. You stop talking, face growing warm. Seungcheol's eyes soften. "Is it true? That I'm your type?" He looked to you for reassurance. His eyes begged to know the truth.

"Yes." You shyly answered. He leaned in ever so slightly and gently cupped your face. Seungcheol realized what he was doing, and leapt back. You scooted closer to his embrace. "Do I make you nervous, Cheol?" The nickname sounded sweet from your mouth.

"How can I not be nervous, when you're so cute?" God, being your fake boyfriend was the hardest thing he's signed up for. It was harder than the night he crammed for his microeconomics final. It was harder than when he had to break up with his girlfriend. Then when he learned to cook for the first time.

But you were perfect, and his time was yours to spend, regardless of how difficult it is to compose the inner feelings ripping at the seams.

"Don't call me cute."

"Sorry."

"And don't say you're sorry."

"I'm—" Sorry. Seungcheol was cut off by his lips being met. The soft collision between his soft pouty lips against yours. He tasted the cherry lip balm you wore. Was it a detail you had deliberately made sure of? Was this all some game to you? Seungcheol welcomed your kiss, but you broke off the kiss. Short of breath, he spoke. "Did you—" "No. I didn't mean that. I don't know what overcame me." Your chest heaved, breathing heavily. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, I'm so sorry." Your tears threatened to spill. "I shouldn't have done that." You scurried away from him, fumbling over your bag and stumbling over your own feet. "Wait! Let's talk about it!"

He watched you disappear, and couldn't bring himself to look as you wiped away your tears. Your quiet sobs were drowned out by the laughter of children.

🌷 ⸺ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘

< MOM > such a shame that you are sick today. papa and i wish for you to get well soon!

Your phone pinged with a notification from your mother messaging you. You slammed your phone face down into the bed sandwiched your face between two pillows and groaned loudly.

A few seconds ago, you had sent an abrupt reason for cancelling dinner— that you were "sick." How could you tell them the truth? That you had ruined your chance with the only man you loved, and even loving him wasn't enough to lower your guard?

You had tried to ignore Seungcheol. On Insta, messages, even the god-forbidden dating app which brought you two together. You changed gyms so you didn't have to worry about running into him. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him and explain how horrible you were.

At the same time, you couldn't ignore him. His voice lingered in your mind. His presence stained every cafe and park you walked to, every dog photo you saw, every gym exercise, and most importantly, your apartment. There were explicit rules against letting the other into your respective homes. Something about it feels personal like you would feel like a real couple.

You hear your doorbell pierce through the stillness of your apartment. Your DoorDash order for Thai food must have arrived earlier than expected. Struggling to carry your limbs out of the bed and to your door, you slide the lock away and open the door.

"YOU WORK FOR DOORDASH!?"

Seungcheol stood right outside your door, holding a plastic bag. A quick peek inside revealed pre-made ramyun and orange juice.

"I came because your mom told me I'm sick." Cheol showed you the bag. Of course, your mother had found out about him and exchanged numbers.

"Well you're out of luck, I lied to her." You tried to ignore Seungcheol's presence. You wish you had the strength to slam the door on him, but the affection you felt for him prevented you from being cruel to him.

"We'd be lying to her even if you weren't sick and went to dinner," Seungcheol made his way inside and took out the ramyun packets on the counter. "Besides, I didn't want to ignore you if you were sick." A hint of warmth in his voice distracts you from the suddenness of his intrusion.

You clear your throat and close the door. Seungcheol fiddles with the stove's control panel to get the water hot enough.

"Our contract says you can't be in my apartment."

"Our contract also says no physical touch," Seungcheol plainly remarked, the sting of the kiss coming back once more. How were you going to tell him that you subconsciously touched your bottom lip to remember how soft he was?

"Touche."

Seungcheol switches the conversation topic. "Why didn't you call?" He didn't turn to you, but in the short span of knowing him, Seungcheol was trying his best not to seem weak.

"I thought you hated me."

"Y'know that's impossible for me to do," Seungcheol turns to you. "Pass me the scissors," you nod and quickly take a pair out of a drawer. Seungcheol takes the scissors and snips off the plastic. Even when you two aren't talking about much your chemistry is palpable. Those scissors you gave him probably would have broken in an attempt to cut the tension.

"I just, I feel so ashamed of using you," You sighed. "One second I wanna keep things professional, putting all my effort into a lame Word document slash contract. But the more I got to know you, it became harder to contain myself," You notice the ramyun is lacking spice, so you bring over a Buldak sauce bottle to squeeze in. "You're nothing like other guys in my life. You're dependable, I can trust you even when things go bad. Like now, you came to my apartment because you didn't wanna risk me being sick with nobody to take care of me."

"I like taking care of you."

You rolled your eyes and chopped up some spring onion to sprinkle in. "Sure you do!"

"I mean it!" He cracked a shy smile. Seungcheol didn't realize it, but he was currently re-enacting his dreams of domestic bliss with you by his side. "You wanna know why I said yes when you asked me this whole thing?" You nod. "I like you. I wanted an excuse to be with you. Even if we were gonna be just friends,"

"But I made you miserable in the process!" You raised your voice. "I was so desperate to make my parents happy I didn't take into consideration what you felt."

"And that's your biggest problem, sweetheart," Seungcheol finally got away from the pot and laid out two bowls. You took over and cracked an egg into the red broth. "You were so caught up in your whole desire to look perfect, to your parents, to me, that you forgot about yourself."

You feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and Seungcheol's face rests in the crook of your neck. "You never called because you were afraid you'd look stupid, right?"

"No," You shook your head, the spicy mixture wafting in your face and causing tears to prick. "I was worried because you make me feel safe. So safe I lose control. I'm not used to feeling safe, most of the time I focus on making others feel safe," Seungcheol kisses the tears that roll down your face. "You should have kissed me for longer,"

"I know." You laughed. "I should have made you my actual boyfriend,"

"It's not too late for that."

You wanted your relationship with Seungcheol to be true. Having somebody as reliable as him as your boyfriend? It would be a dream come true.

"The question is, do you want it to be my real boyfriend after how I treated you?" "Let's give it a shot. We did do well as a fake couple, so why not as a real one?" You took a spoonful of broth to Seungcheol's mouth and he gingerly slurped on it.

"I'll text my mom that dinner is on next week once we are done eating," You smiled from ear to ear. "Say, how would you like to stay the night?"

@noircheols do not copy or translate

[angelmommyslily-blog]

Have you ever had a dream? One so strong it kept you going through everything? And as much as you wanted to reach it, you didn’t think you would be able to for several years? I had that dream. It’s different for every person. But for me, that dream that propelled me on was becoming a mother. But I had to wait for it, and I knew that. I dreamt of that since I was a little girl, and I knew it wasn’t going to happen at the very least until I was in my twenties, so that I could support that child as best I could, and give them everything they deserved.

Still, dreams must be acknowledged. They don’t like to remain confined to our minds. We need to feel like we’re doing something to get to it, or at the very least find ways to release it into the world. For me, I did it several ways. I played with dolls as a child, and once I got older, I found my voice in writing. I carried a spiral notebook in my backpack when I went to school, and when I finished something or had some free time in class, I would pull it out and write. I poured my dreams into those empty pages. I wrote of mothers with their babies, and the way they looked at them. I wrote of a mother’s smile when they looked in their children’s eyes, and their protectiveness of them. And every day, that dream became stronger because I fed it.

But dreams are fickle things. They surprise us often, in ways we never thought of. Sometimes they change in time, or because we are at a certain point in our lives. Sometimes they come when we least expect us. Sometimes they even come earlier than we expect.🌸🍼🚼🚼

A combination of all of these things happened to me. Now when I was twelve, I loved the show Teen Titans. Robin was my favorite character. I was always intrigued by his backstory, of how he lost his parents, and I thought about the idea of them coming back, and what Robin would do. I don’t particularly remember the day I wrote that story, except for playing the song “Headstrong” By Ashley Tisdale about two hundred times on repeat, but I remember very clearly thinking, Robin would give his parents a day back with their little boy. So I wrote it, cranked it out in one afternoon and posted it online on a story sharing site. It has since been deleted, but I remember one line very clearly, the line that said: The things we do for our parents. It sort of stopped me short. I wondered someday if my children would do something like that for me.

I think that’s really when I got interested in the world of age play. Of course, I didn’t know that’s what it was called at the time. I continued to write stories like that over the years. I never had any clue though, that I would actually be involved in such a thing. I didn’t even know it was something I wanted. I wouldn’t for a very long time.

When I was eighteen, I had an iPod touch. I had a cell phone at the time, but I wasn’t supposed to use the internet on it because it cost money. So, my iPod was my gateway to the internet when I was on the go. I stayed late at school, as I did every day because my mother taught there at my high school, and I was browsing online for stories like the ones I wrote. I came across the term ABDL there, and I was understandably confused. I had never heard the term before, and I wouldn’t have. It wasn’t like this was something that people talked about.

I am a naturally inquisitive person, always curious, always exploring. So I researched the term. Imagine my shock when I found out that this was the name of the type of stories I wrote. But there was difference here. It was one thing to write about this sort of thing, and it was something else entirely to live it. The idea that some people lived that way shook me up, because honestly, I had never believed that sort of thing existed outside the realms of my mind. I got off the site and didn’t log on again for weeks.

That time in between was pretty crucial, I think. I needed to come to terms with the idea that this wasn’t just in my head. I needed to grasp that this was real, and I needed to take time away to make peace with all of that on my own terms, and open my mind. So when I went back, it was different. Suddenly I was understanding so much more. I did research, found websites and blogs and pictures and asked questions to people. When I logged off that evening to get ready for bed, I found I had a lot to think about.🌸🚼🚼

Slowly, over a long period of time, I entered the world of Age play. Not in any official capacity at that point, though. Just as a fan and sometimes an advocate. In opening my mind to all of that, I had been able to put myself in the shoes of those who were a part of that community. I saw their hardship, their struggles with shame, all of the misconceptions, and seeing that… It stirred something inside of me. A protective instinct. Suddenly, I just wanted to protect the littles in that community, keep them from any more pain than so many of them had already been through. I made the switch from fan to advocate pretty easily and very quickly. By that point, I was twenty years old.

It was when I was twenty, nearly twenty one, that I came to terms with the idea that I wanted to be a mommy to somebody in the community. I think my own mother influenced that decision quite a bit. She talked to me often growing up (and still does now for that matter) about how she had always pictured having a baby, and that she hadn’t been able to see me growing up. She always remarked how small I was as a baby, and that is hardly surprising since I was three months premature. In short, she didn’t want me to grow up. So the idea of having a child who would always be a child was very appealing to me because of all of that. Maybe that’s where it came from in the first place. So, I began my search.

Around that time, I was working retail. And one day, a song that I had sung in the high school choir came over the speakers. It triggered in me a memory, an old friend I used to role-play with online. And I decided to reach out to her again. We reconnected, and became very close again in a short period of time.

When I pictured having children at that time, because I still did want my own, I always envisioned a boy. So I tried searching one out in several places. Eventually, I thought I found one. I was very excited, so I sent a message to my friend about it. She asked me if I was talking about DDLG, which was term for ABDL more between a Daddy and Little girl. To my surprise, she was into it. I ended up asking her if she had a Mommy, and she said she did not. Then, I asked her if she wanted one. And she said yes.

In that moment, my whole world changed.

Suddenly, I had a little girl. Someone to call me Momma. Someone who loved talking to me, and being little with me. In a short time frame, I grew to accept that part of myself more than I might have in years without a baby to care for. Things were going great, and I was flying high. When I look back at that time in my life, I think of it as one of those golden lights, that would light my life for years to come. Everything was perfect. Or at least, I thought so.

About three months into it, that all changed. One day, out of nowhere, she stopped talking to me. No explanation, no warning, just a complete stopping in communication. I spent months in denial, just waiting for her to reply to me, to talk to me, to tell me something, anything, about what was happening with her, with our relationship. But it never came. That day was back in May, and I don’t think anything really hit me until October. I was at work one day, and they played the same song over the speakers that played the day I reconnected with her. I think it really drove it home for me that she wasn’t coming back. I went home from work that day, and I cried for hours.

The months that followed were some of the blackest ones of my entire life. I was lost in my self doubt, in my darkness, in my grief. During that period, I went to a store with my mom, and picked up some journals, formal ones. I began to write her letters, to share that grief somewhere, and maybe send it someday when it was finished. It helped me, I think. And I remembered that shining moment in my life, and I wanted it to happen again. In December, I tried to be a mommy again, but I wasn’t ready. The same result came the following March. So I stayed away from being a Mommy until August, when I thought I was ready again. It would change everything.

Personally, I am religious. A Christian. I have been since I was seventeen. I believed in the idea that God had a plan for me. I believed he wouldn’t give me that kind of pain without a reason. I just didn’t know what that reason was. For those who aren’t particularly religious, the idea of fate working in mysterious ways also works. However you figured it, I believed that there was a reason for all of this. I just hadn’t found it yet. But on August 7, 2017, I did.

I had been on Tumblr, on Kik, on Whisper, looking for a baby girl. And eventually, one reached out to me. Initially when I spoke to her a few days before, I said that I wasn’t ready, but on that day in August, I was. I asked if she was still looking for a Mommy, and she said yes. I asked if I could be hers, and she agreed. Her name was Raevyn, and she was from Florida. I spent that day learning about her, and when I look back on it now, I see that she had been the light to finally breach that seemingly endless blackness, and break through it to feed the light inside me. Slowly, life began to have meaning again. I was doing all of the things I had wanted to do as a Mommy. I encouraged her, I supported her, I sent her care packages. Really, that was as much as I could do from nearly two thousand miles away.

The one downer in that fairytale was not being able to meet her in person. But I changed all of that nearly a year later. On a whim, I booked a flight to Florida. The catch? I didn’t tell my parents where I was going. I told them I was going to sleepover a few days at my Best Friend’s house. It wasn’t entirely untrue. I did go to her house and stayed over the first night. The next morning, I booked a Lyft to the airport, and I flew out to Florida. It was my first time riding by myself on a plane. I really hate heights, so it should have really bothered me being up so high, but I ignored it. I ignored all of it, because the need to be with my baby girl was overshadowing all of that fear.

It felt like forever, honestly. That flight, and getting my bags at baggage claim. I went outside the Fort Lauderdale airport, and I waited. My phone was at twenty percent and would likely die soon, and I was antsy. But that hope, that fantasy of holding that little girl in my arms, overrode every complaint I had. Finally, after an eternity of waiting, her car pulled up.

Defining moments in our lives can go two ways. They can go fast, like a movie on fast forward. They can go slowly, like a record playing at a slow speed. Sometimes they’re both. The moment when she got out of the car was both. I remember how the world sort of stopped for me in that instant. The way nothing seemed to matter. I remember myself racing forward at top speed, and her seeming to get out in slow motion.

But then, she hugged me for the first time.

Of all the moments in my life, that one stood out to me in a very distinct way, for so many reasons. The moment she wrapped her arms around me, and I her, it was like someone opened up a whole new world to me. In that moment, more than any one I had ever had in my life, I found my purpose. I saw the future, my mind abuzz with possibilities. In perhaps the greatest moment of clarity I was ever blessed with, I knew that she was my future. I knew that if I did nothing else that was important in my life, I was going to try and spend it showing her how much I cared and loved her. As I held her, I knew that this would be the start of many trips, of conversations, of a long and happy relationship. I could have lived in that moment forever.

I got in the car and we went back to her home, where I crashed on her couch that night. The next day, we watched My Little Pony: The Movie, The Unborn, and Child’s Play, cherishing both parts of her. We watched Glitter Force, and The Miraculous Ladybug. We shared music with one another, the one I remember most being “Somebody’s Watching Me” by Rockwell. I even got to read her a story before bed. I slept on the couch again, and the next day had to go on a plane back home. There were all sorts of complications with that flight, and it was pretty crazy, but I went through it all with a smile, because I had just had the greatest day of my life. Why wouldn’t I be happy? I got back to my home around ten o’clock that night, and I was grinning ear to ear. I never told my dad about it, but I told my mom that evening. While she was disappointed I had gone behind her back, she was glad I had fun. I think she thought it was a good experience for me to have.🚼🌸🍼

I have seen so much in my life. I have seen the best and worst moments for so many people. I have given so much, and received much in turn. My baby girl has given me so many gifts. My baby girl has given me inspiration for stories. She has given me joy I never thought imaginable. She helped me find a light in myself that I worried might have gone out. In turn, I have tried to give her all of my love, care, and attention.

But by far, from all of the gifts there are in this world, all the gestures people have made, all the material items, all of the places I’ve been or people I’ve met, there was no greater gift to me than the love of my baby girl, who calls me Mommy.

There is no greater gift than that.🌸🌸🚼🚼🍼

[stjohnstarling]

YOU! 🫵 ONLINE INDIE AUTHOR!

Have you considered simply posting your story online for free?

If you widen your scope of awareness beyond the realm of books, most natively online creators (your favourite YouTubers and podcasters, webcomics, Homestuck, etc.) have something they initially made for free.

When you publish a book, you’re left sitting there waiting and fretting, you see purchases and a few reviews, but you don’t get a lot of reader reaction.

Whereas, if you were to post a chapter at a time online for free, you can see people keeping up with it, you get live reactions, it’s a much more interactive, more communal experience.

If your background is fanfiction, you already have experience doing this!

If you’re expecting a handful of sales per month and that income isn’t vital to you, you might be trading the lion’s share of the enjoyment of writing for the price of a few cups of coffee.

If you have a serious commitment to making writing your career and your source of income, this post isn’t about you. I’m talking to those who look into yourselves and find your goal is to have your writing read and shared, and to participate in a community of like-minded peers

I think online writing communities would be so much healthier if there was more separation between hobby and commercial writing, and authors didn’t feel pressured to go professional. 

People are taking a risk by reading your book, gambling on the time and effort they put in being worthwhile, and that risk becomes way lower when the book is free. 

[artsymeeshee]

Been in a weird headspace lately and I wanted to put my thoughts and feelings out to give a better idea of what's been happening. Putting under a read more/feel free to ignore.

I've talked about my struggles mentally on and off for a while and this one has been an ongoing thing for me and it's one I feel has begun to stick out more as time goes on.

I don't see myself as a good person. Most of the time I feel like I'm a bad person. And there's a lot of factors that play into this. One, is the things that I draw, which sounds absolutely crazy. Even I think it is as well.

It's no secret that my main priority has always been familial/platonic themes because that's how I've always viewed Gravity Falls as. And I know a lot of people do as well. It's one of the main themes of the show for crying out loud. And it's not to say I'm getting tired of it. That's a thing that has never crossed my mind, ever. It's more so along the lines of thinking it's too boring or falling back to that feeling of feeling bad because I don't make ship art. And I know I shouldn't feel bad about it and there's plenty of others that gladly do it. It's just one of those things that I'm not sure I'll really accept. And I'm always always grateful for the ones that tell me they appreciate all the family bonding/themes in my art. I guess the feeling of loneliness plays a part in that as well. I'll still make all the family things as long and as much as I can, but I won't deny the feeling of loneliness I get sometimes.

I do have that strong feeling that I am made to do something more and actually be someone and not the usual husk of a terrible individual I fall back on so many times. I won't deny anxiety and fear has taken a big hold on me lately. And it's also driven me to isolate myself in a sense and made me a cold person. I was so much more open years ago and now I've closed a good part of me away because... maybe I realized my "correctness" of myself being a bad person and who would even want to be around someone like that, so it's easier to hide. And I'm always afraid that one day I'll do or say something to no longer make me feel like I'm safe to approach. I've gone through so many people I've found that I've grown to like only for them to be an awful person and it sucks. I never want to be like that.

It's also been hard to not fall back to up and leaving. Whether that be online or real life. Last year was a time I fought with staying or leaving and it was always hard to decide to stay because leaving seemed like the only option I deserved.

I'm aware my ongoing battle with depression has hindered me a lot and it's a main factor for all of my negative feelings and thoughts about myself. And I don't want it to always resort to being the final say of who I am. I would like to find and show that part of me I feel people deserve to see.

I'm going to be honest, putting my raw emotions and thoughts like this is always scary. I'm sorry for the unexpected and serious post. I hoped I didn't make it too annoying or bring the mood down, but I needed to clear an ongoing struggle I've had for a long while. Thank you all for the constant support. Thank you for liking my silly, dumb, wholesome, sometimes feelsy art. Wanted to state another serious thing because life is so unexpected and you never know what will happen, but if something were to happen to me, I really can't explain how grateful I am for the love I've gotten from my time sharing my art. Thank you. Truly. 💜

[peachdeluxe]

I have this in my pinned, but i'd just like to formally ask.. please don't upload my art to pinterest!

I absolutely don't mind my art being saved for reference, the issue is with pinterest itself. People don't generally attach credit on there, and users tend to think of anything on pinterest as totally sourceless and free to use/copy. It's disheartening seeing my original work floating around and being used with no credit, or credited to the wrong person, or having people tell me they've seen my art all over but had no idea I made it.

(It'd be one thing if it were just hobbyists, but unfortunately this extends to the professional sphere as well-- I have been given moodboards with totally uncredited art to reference off of even doing professional design work.)

And besides, with pinterest you have to deal with low quality uploads, things being randomly removed, obnoxious ads everywhere... aside from the convenience of it being online, it really just isn't great for art archiving anyways! I think it's very worthwhile to have an offline art reference folder, and if you don't have one you should get into the habit of actually saving things. You can always save my art to your computer, or print it out to have it physically (as long as you aren't using it for-profit). Under the cut I have some image organizing software recommendations.

Tagstudio - free image and document organizer with tagging functions.

Hydrus network - another free media organizer with tagging functions. works like a locally-hosted booru. Has a little bit more of a learning curve and has the option to set up a server to share files over a server, but you can use it purely offline. (also yeah it's geared towards imageboard users but you don't have to use any of that to work with it)

Notion - freemium (free for one user), can be used online/cross platform and shared more like Pinterest. more of a general notetaking/organizational app, but you can create moodboard sites using templates.

may update the post with more if I find more!

[ikiprian]

Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

[velnna]

Hii Maf! Just wanted to say that I really love your work - Im quite new to your webcomics since I knew you bcz of baldurs gate, but Im enjoying stray souls a lot so far! If you dont mind the ask, how did you grow your art presence on the internet?

Thank you!!

There's no simple answer to that, really 😅 it's a mix of things over many years at this point. I'll give you a rough timeline, might be easier lmao:

2010-2013: I joined deviantArt and built a tiny community there through things like art trades, challenges, joining groups, etc

2013-2017: I dropped from the face of the art space online to focus on studying and getting a job

2017-2019: I indeed got a good job and decided that in my free time I was gonna focus on my comic, and that I wanted it to do as well as possible so I built an audience on social media (mostly Instagram). The way I did it was by, again, participating in a shitton of challenges, drawing and posting like a madman (which I still do tbf) and, most importantly, engaging with other people's work. I think an important part of being and growing as an artist online is nurturing the community you want to surround yourself with. If you like someone's work, go out of your way to let them know by interacting with it, sharing, etc. It can't just be you posting into the void and expecting others to magically get on board

2019-2022: I started working with Webtoon which gave me an extra boost, started branching out into twitter, etc, kept just doing my thing tbh

2023-2024: in early 2023 I decided to go full time for personal reasons, and halfway through the year I got swept away with Baldur's Gate 3 lmao. I'll say being in a "fandom" definitely gave me a bit of a boost in numbers (especially on tumblr lol) but as far as ways to grow on social media go, it's not my favourite - I still very much only work on what I want and if that happens to be fanart it's a happy coincidence

These days there's nothing I do to grow on socials, really. I try to direct people to things like Patreon here and there because I need to keep an eye on the financial side, and have ideas I want to be able to create and fund independently, but even at that I'm not great

It's obviously important to note that all the while I've been drawing a lot and improving at it. Ultimately it doesn't matter how much you understand or work on your social media presence if the actual content doesn't stand out in one way or another

[bodyexchangeman]

Here's a story I've been thinking about for a while. It's the kind of thing that gets me going. It's a first attempt - a bit long - and the first part. So be nice about it lol. And if this has inspired anyone and you wanna chat about this kind of stuff then just message me.

+++++

Trading Places

Part 1: The Swap

Harry adjusted the waist of his Ralph Lauren polo shirt as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, legs crossed at the ankle in his tan chinos and spotless brown loafers. The subtle scent of expensive cologne lingered around him.

Across the room stood Kieran, slouched with arms folded, sporting a grey North Face tracksuit, his Nike Air Max 95s tapping rhythmically against the floor. A black Nike crossbody bag hung from his shoulder, and a black Adidas baseball cap was pulled low over his brow. The contrast between them was stark—like two characters from completely different shows who'd walked into the same scene.

“So... reckon we’re really doing this then?” Kieran said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Harry gave a small laugh, a bit nervous but excited. “Yeah. Why not? I mean, we’re the same build. It’s not like it won’t fit.”

The two had met just two months earlier on a quirky online blog dedicated to body swaps—more a space for fantasy than reality, but the two had quickly hit it off. Curious, and discovering they lived just a few towns apart, they’d agreed to meet in person, wondering if switching lives—even just outwardly—might feel like something more.

—----------

Harry was an engineering student at uni. He was smart enough to know that he had always had a pretty privileged upbringing. His parents were pretty well off and life was easy for the family. But for Harry there was always something in the background. He felt like he was pushed to fit in. No one ever said anything or demanded anything of him but nevertheless he felt compelled to be the person his family expected. 

But he yearned to be something different. Even if it was just for a short while. He spent many a night awake in bed wondering what it would feel like to be a council estate lad. Life would probably be a lot less comfortable but to Harry's mind, it would be more free. He would like awake imagine being one of the lads he would see in town, tracksuit and trainers, hanging around with their mates and just killing time.

And soon his mind would wander to their wiry, toned bodies. And he would find his cock hardening and would end up wanking himself frantically, imagining that body was his.

And so, one day after some vague internet searches Harry stumbled on a blog for guys into body swapping and transformation. It was like unlocking a whole new world. The posts were a range of stories and pics. There were so many more people excited by the idea of swapping bodies or lives than he ever imagined. There were plenty of people who posted about swapping with older guys, or transforming into “dumb jocks”, or even race or gender swaps. None of that was really Harry’s thing but gradually he began to find the posts that fitted his own desires. And soon he began liking and commenting on posts. Resharing pictures of the guys he liked and the stories that most closely matched his fantasies.

Harry had never been sure of his sexuality but even before finding the site he knew that wanking over pictures of guys was hardly “straight”, but rather than scratching that itch, the site just intensified his feelings. He increasingly found himself wanking over the contents of the blog. Shooting his load while daydreaming about his "new life".

After a while Harry began messaging some of the people whose stories he liked. Most were friendly and happy to chat about their fantasies and Harry even role played with a few of them. But most of them were really not his ‘type’ and no one ever even lived in the same country. 

That was until he messaged UKlad98. Or Keiran as he now knew him. Keiran had been what you'd call a lurker. He never posted or shared anything. But Harry noticed that Kieran had followed him and would always like the post that most closely matched Harry's fantasy. Pictures of lads in tracksuits and trainers. Stories about swapping class and the like. Eventually Harry had messaged UKlad98 to say hi and see if Harry could ease him into a chat.

At first it was slow. Uklad98 would take days to reply. But gradually he seemed to get over his initial nerves (were they nerves?) and the two began to converse. They talked about how they both imagined swapping bodies and lives and seemed to have very similar fantasies. Harry had avoided pressing UKlad98 too hard about what his life and body were like, but then out of the blue a message came through: “so what are you like? Wanna swap a pic? Maybe we could swap bodies lol”. 

Harry stopped in his tracks. He had regularly imagined what he thought UKlad98 might be like, but knew that he was projecting his fantasy. Which had made him more reluctant to ask his new friend for details in the fear that might spoil the fantasy forever. 

After a few hours Harry finally resolved to see it through and logged back in, responding that yes, he would like to talk about trading bodies and followed that up with a concise description of himself and his life. 

After a few minutes UKlad98 was back online and had “hearted” Harry's message. Then to Harry’s suprise he received a photo. The system blurred it out at first and asked if Harry was open to receiving images. Harry’s heart was now racing. But he was also steeling himself for disappointment. By his luck UKlad98 would turn out to be some kind of bear or some scruffy looking nerd. Harry clicked on the accept button and waited for the image to resolve.

And then suddenly  there he was - Keiran - tracksuit bottoms, a white t-shirt with a thick gold chain over it, baseball cap and a can of lager in his hand, larking about in his back garden. Harry had never smiled as hard as he did that moment…

—--------------

Harry stood and reached for his belt buckle. “Alright. Shall we?”

Kieran nodded, pulling his tracksuit top up over his head. The process began almost like a ceremony—tops off first, then trousers, footwear, socks, and finally underwear. Harry tried not to look too directly at Kieran as they undressed, unsure if what reaction he'd get, despite them both having admitted how all if this would turn them on, but both couldn’t help comparing slightly.

Kieran pulled on Harry’s fitted polo, admiring the softness of the fabric. “Blimey, this is posh. Feels mad expensive.”

Harry, meanwhile, was slipping one leg into Keiran’s trackie bottoms, the loose material unfamiliar against his skin. “This feels... casual,” he said, almost uncertain, but he kept going. “And these Nikes—which ones are they?”

“Air Max 95s,” Kieran said, now zipping up Harry’s chinos and slipping into the loafers, wobbling slightly. “Bit tight round the waist, but mate, I feel like a stockbroker.” They both laughed, but Harry could already feel his cock swelling as he felt the damp cotton of Keiran’s briefs against his skin. Harry turned slightly to try and hide the bulge that Keiran's tracksuit was not going to cover very well. 

Harry tugged the hoodie over his head and adjusted his new cap. “Do I look convincing?”

“You look like you’re about to meet the lads outside a Greggs,” Kieran said with a laugh. “And me? Do I pass for a Kensington twat?”

Harry chuckled, looking Kieran over. “You clean up surprisingly well.”

Both now stood fully dressed in each other’s clothes, everything from their socks and boxers, to their watches and jewelry, the complete swap done. There was a strange energy in the room—part awkward, part electric. Each man was seeing the world from the other side of the class divide, through cotton, leather, and polyester.

“This is mad,” Kieran said, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “But I ain’t gonna lie—I feel classy as hell. And horny as fuck.” He chuckled. 

“And I feel… chilled,” Harry admitted. “Like I’m off to a house party in Croydon.”

Kieran laughed. “We should go for a pint. See how long we can keep this up.”

Harry smiled, adjusting the strap on Keiran's crossbody bag that was now across his chest. “Let’s do it. But you’re ordering—I wouldn’t know what to ask for in a pub round here.”

“Fair,” Kieran said, tossing him a wink. “Let’s see what the world thinks of us now.”

And with that, the two stepped out into the night, each wearing the other’s world like a second skin...

To be continued (hopefully)

Let me know what you think. And if there are any Keiran's out there ... Lol

[kataang-week]

Trick or Treat, Kataangers!🎃

Katara and Aang sprites from Distant Horizon. Graphic created by Mod Belle @itsmoonpeaches.

🦇What is Kataang Halloween?

Kataang Halloween is a one-time, three-day mini-event hosted and created by @kataang-week on Tumblr for the first time this year. (However, there is potential for it to happen again in the future.) Kataang Halloween celebrates Kataang with a Halloween theme. All prompts were chosen by the mod team.

🦇Cool, when is it?

Kataang Halloween starts on Thursday, October 31, 2024, and ends on Saturday, November 2, 2024.

🦇What are the prompts?

In honor of Halloween, we're using lucky number 13! There are 13 prompts for each adventure.

"Trick" prompt list:

Old Spirits

Family Secrets

Altered State

Moonlight

Teeth

Demon Claws

The Deep

Offerings

Inner Palace

Lost

Grotto

Cliff Edge

Poison

"Treat" prompt list:

Taffy

Candied Haws

Lanterns

Mid-Autumn

Mooncake

Crunchy Leaves

Warm Drinks

Pumpkins

Chrysanthemum

Sharing

Toadstools

Apple Picking

Paint

🦇So how does this work?

Choose your own adventure! You can take inspiration from the Trick prompts, Treat prompts, or both! Feel free to mix and match prompts to create spooky and/or sweet Kataang content.

Anything you can think of counts as content as long as you fill one or multiple prompts at a time. Fanfics, fanart, gifsets, metas, edits, playlists, moodboards, music, etc.—the sky's the limit.

🦇What are the rules?

Please create your own original pieces. We do not accept AI-made fanworks.

We only accept new works created for Kataang Halloween, not works that are retroactively said to be created for Kataang Halloween. However, you may create something that fills a Kataang Halloween prompt for an ongoing work like a chapter fic or an ongoing series. See this ask for more information.

We accept all range of works. However, bear in mind that this is an all-ages event. If your work contains themes or imagery that may be intended for older audiences, tag and warn people thoroughly. Works with adult content must have an all-ages appropriate preview.

Do not repost other people's works. Reblog their original post if one exists.

If a creator/author/artist has requested you to post their work for them, remember to credit the original and link back to their page.

Be respectful in your fanworks and to others participating or enjoying the event.

🦇How should I tag my work?

The easiest way for us to find your work so we can reblog it to this blog is by using the tag “kataang halloween”. Using “kataang” and “kataangtag” also help. You must tag one of the three in your first five tags otherwise it doesn’t appear in the search. It is also helpful to tag us directly with @kataang-week.

Sometimes even properly tagged posts may not appear when we search the tags, so if you do not see your content reblogged, please let us know.

Once we’ve reblogged it to this blog we add our own tags (a prompt tag and a user tag) for easy organization. This means we can find all the work for one prompt or all the work from one user in one easy click (this also means that if you have changed your username since participating last year you need to let us know so we can update your tag!).

🦇Can I post my stuff other places online too?

Of course you can! However, we won’t be able to reblog anything that isn’t a Tumblr post.

For those of you who will be posting your works on AO3, feel free to add your fic to our Kataang Halloween AO3 collection.

🦇What if I have late submissions for Kataang Week 2024?

While we will not reblog any late submissions for Kataang Week 2024 during the Kataang Halloween event, late submissions for Kataang Week 2024 will still be accepted up until Kataang Week 2025, so don’t be shy and don’t worry about giving the world more Kataang content 💖 We always welcome it!

As always, if you have any questions, feel free to submit an ask to the Kataang Week blog. See you on Halloween, Kataangers!

🦇Who are the mods?

@airbender-dacyon AKA Mod Dan: A Kataang fanfic writer who prefers fluff, but also loves some drama and angst. Mod Dan started writing Kataang stories in 2013 and has helped organize Kataang Week since 2016.

@penguinsledder AKA Mod Atarah: A writer, gif maker, and musician–she enjoys fluffy young adult Kataang and all the ways they complement and parallel each other. She first joined Tumblr for Kataang Week 10 years ago, and started helping out with writing posts and making banners as a mod since 2016!

@itsmoonpeaches AKA Mod Belle: An avid Kataanger with a penchant for angst and mild violence who likes writing. Mod Belle has been a mod since 2021 and helps write posts and social media.

@chocomd AKA Mod Celes: Fanfic writer who adores Kataang for their fun and flirty side but also their bond forged through grief and loss. Mod Celes joined in 2023 and helps with a little bit of everything - whatever needs to be done!

[ktcznsky]

So let me undertand this; you guys seem more normal to romanticize a relationship with a huge power differential where one is the victim of the other and completely ignore all the crimes an agent of an organization that has been kidnapping, killing and torturing since the beginning of the Cold War did just because you find him hot? Have you guys ever remotely read about cold war history or the MK Ultra declassified files? Did you guys even know what the CIA been doing? Because you guys seems to not undertand the big issue in that.

Like ok, you can like a character who's evil, but don't idolatrize him. He's not good, he did not did good things, he's either evil, but that doesn't mean you can ignore all his bad actions. THE END DOES NOT JUSTIFY THE MEANS. Adler "good intentions" always were protecting his country. That's a noble thing I can understand, but coming to tell me that his actions were right or trying to justify them upsets me in an immeasurable way. If you have read any document of any CIA operation you will understand why. As I said, the end does not justify the means. You can have good intentions, but that doesn't justify what you do to achieving it. People forget that the game is based on a real history time.

I'm not saying the Soviets were better than the Americans in the cold war because they did things that weren't the best (despite compared to the United States, the Soviets were better in many ways that I will not touch on in this post), but have you remotely thought that the game is basically American propaganda and that you have consciously or unconsciously decided ignore the fact that in the game the CIA tortured a person for information? And on top of that, all you know about the Soviets are West propaganda and the reason most of you doesn't know what the CIA did is because they don't teach you that in school so they can be the "heroes" in the history?

And you guys for some reason don't find it bad and some of you even find it hot? Are we literally loss our minds? You guys NEED to read the MK Ultra declassified files urgently because that's insane. Bell is not just a character in a game, they represents all the people who have been subjected to this type of project against their will. Do you really not see anything wrong with that? Breaking someone identity and treating them in a subhuman way just for information?

Like yes, in the game Perseus as an organization wanted to nuke the west, but Perseus was an organization that worked in secret and without the authorization of any secretary of state. They didn't represent the will of all the people, just the ones who were dissatisfied with Gorbachev and Brezhnev. Why do you think people would join such an organization if it weren't for dissatisfaction with something that's going on inside the country? In real life, they tried to make a coup d'état against Gorbachev, which did not work, but the Soviet Union still fell.

And in the game, the CIA wanted to stop Perseus, not because they wanted to save Europe, they did it because they didn't wanted to be blamed for that. They only care about their reputation and their "freedom". The "free world" they built only benefits them and their reputation.

At this point I'm tired because almost no one really cared about those things. When I try to share my point of view thinking about all my knowledge about cold war, some mf comes and tells me "b-b-b-but Adler's hot". I KNOW MF I KNOW, HE'S A INTERESTING CHARACTER BUT BEING HOT DOESN'T JUSTIFIES HIS ACTIONS. Can we please think clearly and logically?

And then the person who thinks torturing and brainwashing Bell is hot comes along to tell me that I'm the one who's morally wrong. What's your point? We all have our views on every situation, but don't come and tell me what I have to say or do when you keep contradicting yourself and saying any kind of outrageous thing to get acceptance from a couple of people online.

Edit: As an addition, I don't think a person is bad or has to be canceled as if it were a witch hunt for liking this ship. My intention here is to give my opinion and to publicize multiple factors that make this ship controversial. I don't have a problem with people who ship them and decide to make stories as long as they are focusing on the fact that their relationship is extremely toxic and that Bell is a victim of the situation, nor I try to justify that Bell has been planning with Perseus to destroy Europe and incriminate the United States, but one thing does not take away from the other. Bell is still the victim of a project that destroyed everything that they was. My problem here is people who romanticize the fact that Bell is helpless after the brainwashing and Adler can take advantage of that. Adler did not treat or see Bell as a person, but as a tool. I'm not trying to embarrass or disparage anyone, but there's a thin layer between a shipper and a pro-shipper. Pro-shipper is not only about ships with minors, but encompasses any relationship with a power differential between the two people, which can be abusive and toxic.