#but at the same time i need to feel something i need to feel something

[i1k]

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

[cowgirlvi]

mdni.   cam-girl jinx.   loser-ish reader.   sex toys.   squirting. based off this ask.

wc; 1,476

you make sure to get home from work most days at precisely 5:00 PM—enough time to wash off the dirt and grime of the day in a quick shower, throw together a rushed meal, and settle in front of your computer by 6:30. your routine is second nature by now, the anticipation building as you watch the minutes tick by before jinx appears on screen.

jinx streams every other day, always at the same time, and you're careful never to be late. the moment her stream goes live, the screen fills with a warm glow. it illuminates her petite frame as she sits on her bed, poised and teasing. tonight, she wears a dark brown leather belt across her chest, cinched just enough to lift her small breasts, showing off her blue cloud tattoos. the worn leather is barely covering the soft, pink shade of her tiny nipples.

she has such a thin piece of fabric decorating her hips that you wouldn’t have even noticed it, if not for the way the black, lacy thong contrasts against her pale skin. she’s striking—utterly mesmerizing—and every movement is deliberate as she shifts, adjusting herself before flashing a sly smile at the camera.

the chat chirps with excitement when she leans in, offering a loud, enthusiastic greeting to her supporters. there’s an undeniable, mischievous confidence in the way she carries herself—a playful allure mixed with an effortless intimacy that only strokes the flames of your parasocial relationship with her.

heartseekerjinx: hi gorgeous!!!

spaceprincessjinx: you look so sexy, jinx <3

user3263288412: give us a show already.

jinx’s stream requires a hefty membership access fee, but you’d pay anything just to see her.

“hmmm,” she trails her fingers down the taut, creamy skin of stomach until they reach her panties. she toys with the lacy hem, saying, “i’ve been needing to play with my pussy all day . . . but i was waiting for you.”

you gasp. it feels like she’s speaking to you directly. you know you must stand out to her the most compared to her other subscribers, with the way you spam her with donations, flooding her chat with desperate compliments. she has to remember you.

you unbutton your jeans hurriedly, pushing your pants down your thighs and then you stuff your hand inside your underwear. you’re completely soaked already, as if jinx put a spell on you—on all her viewers. that would explain the all-consuming loyalty you feel towards her.

jinx plucks a sleek, blue vibrator from her toy basket, the one that’s directly attached to her many donations, where each contribution controls its intensity. it might be your favorite toy of hers. you enjoy the way her viewers can set the pace—how you can set the pace. of course, you love watching her stuff monstrous dildos inside her pussy too, but there’s something so intimate about being the one to force her to feel good, despite the distance between you two.

jinx plants her feet on the bed, spreading her knees. she turns the toy on, and then she hooks a finger in the crotch of her thong, pulling the thin frantic to the side so hundreds of eyes can see her glistening, pink pussy. she rubs the vibrator against her clit for a moment, groaning softly at the stimulation, and then pushes the bean-shaped toy inside her hole.

”oh fuck, look how wet i am for you,” jinx whines, staring up at the webcam. she looks tantalizing from underneath her thick lashes.

biting your lip in anticipation, you donate $20 without a second thought—just enough to speed up the vibrations of the toy slightly. jinx gasps on screen, surprised that she received a donation so quickly. she leans in to read off her computer screen, recognizing your username instantly and snickering.

purring your display-name like a cat, she says, “thank you, mydarlingjinx. you always take, ahh, such good care of me.”

you feel an immense sense of pride fill your chest. you love taking care of jinx, making her feel good, and you wish you could take things further. you often fantasize about laying her up in your bed, pulling off the skimpy clothes adorning her body, rubbing your hands all across her smooth skin, playing with her small breasts.

you know you could make her feel so good, stuffing her full of dildos and other phallic-shaped objects from her toy box, playing with every single one of her holes like you know she needs, pushing her to the brink of pleasure in ways that would leave her crying. her box of toys is filled with possibilities, each one capable of pulling the sweetest reactions from her. you can picture it so clearly; the way she'd squirm as you explore every inch of her skin—teasing, stretching, biting, filling. she craves it, you know she does—her slutty body was made for this sort of thing.

the speed of the toy is relatively fast now, but jinx keeps her composure—or at least, she tries to. she continues flirting with the camera, dedicated to keeping her supporters entertained. “unnghh—do you like watching me play with my pussy? i bet, ahh, you’re touching yourself too, huh?”

your breath hitches. it feels like a direct challenge, one you’re all too eager to accept. you type a quick response in chat, confirming her suspicions, and she giggles, her laughter raspy and sweet.

mydarlingjinx: yes you look so cute jinx!

”i knew it,” she coos. “i wish you were here—mmgh! you’d feel so much better—aghh—than this dumb toy.”

holy shit.

your pulse pounds in your ears. she wishes you were touching her, that you were the one making her feel this good. it’s almost too much for you to handle. your fingers fumble over your keyboard as you send another donation, barely registering the amount before the confirmation pops up. you're not the only one—her other viewers flood the chat with their own desperate contributions, the collective need to see her fall apart pushing the toy's vibrations even higher.

”unghh! please, ohh, slow down—i can’t t-take it, mmmf!” jinx squeals, which only entices you to send another donation.

her magenta eyes are trying to flutter closed and it seems like she can barely keep her legs open, but she has to give her viewers a show—it’s what they paid for, after all. so she hooks her elbows under her knees, forcing her legs to stay spread open so everyone can see the way her sweet pussy is gushing more and more arousal out of her little hole, trailing down to her heart-shaped ass.

her makeup is ruined—messy, dark eyeshadow running down her face, black cherry lipstick smudged around her chin, her tongue lolling out like a dumb dog. she looks completely debauched, and yet, she pushes herself further. 

your fingers are moving with newfound desperation inside your underwear, awestruck by the sight of jinx unraveling. every labored breath, every twitch of her delicate frame is a testament to just how close she is to reaching her breaking point, how desperate her pussy is to finally orgasm, to release more heavenly juices from her hole—and it’s all because of you.

the realization is dizzying, a fire pooling deep in your stomach as you drink in the sight of how utterly ruined and overwhelmed your girl is.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—!” jinx is repeating like a mantra, her raspy voice hitching with every syllable. “baby, ohh, i’m coming—hngggf!”

and then she goes crosseyed, nails digging into the skin of thighs hard enough to make her bleed. her back arches as she tips over the edge, pushing out her perky tits further. jinx squirts harshly from her pussy and you can see the powerful contractions of her hole as it pushes the blue toy out.

the vibrator falls onto the plush sheets of jinx’s bed with a bounce, but her orgasm continues. she’s trembling, her skin is clearly buzzing with electricity, and you think she looks like an angel.

the sight of her—shaking like a leaf and moaning whorishly—completely undoes you. heat coils tightly in your core before snapping like a rubber band all at once. a deep, shuddering wave of pleasure rolls through your entire body, your muscles tense and your fingers clenching as your breath catches in your throat. the intensity of your orgasm leaves you momentarily weightless. a full-body shiver overtakes you, every nerve alight with warmth and satisfaction.

your mind turns hazy, the world around you blurring until all that remains is her—jinx, who is sprawled out against her plush bedsheets, her chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths, and her lips parted in a lazy, drunk smile.

jinx came because of you, and you because of her. it’s irrevocably intimate and she has no idea.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0, @marieeeluvsyou, @mxchi-mxxn, @el-amor-que-tu-quieres, @jinxvex, @mwahbabe, @teddybearbutch28, @stupendousbananasharkcop, @nahcala, @ellieslob, @idontwannabehereatm, @rhian88, @kyur1jinx, @vivispace, @girlbeatings

(2/11/25)

[riboism]

[11:11]

pairing: idol! c.sn x fem reader

summary: you're both very tired from work, but you can't go to sleep just yet

content tags: smut drabble, grinding, panty-fucking, cumplay, squirting, established relationship, nsfw link!

It’s been so long since San's seen you like this. A breathless and writhing mess under him as he places messy kisses to your lips and chin. Your night shirt, which belonged to him initially, was pulled up to expose your soft flesh for him to grab at his will. 

His busy and hectic idol schedule combined with your exhaustingly long office hours made it difficult to be intimate. For months now, San would lean in closer to you on the couch and massage your inner thighs to hint he was in the mood, only for you to shoot down his efforts with a simple “I just wanna watch this episode right now.” 

Or it would be you, pecking your lips down his neck after he got in bed with you at the end of the day, to which he’d reply with a soft and defiant “I’m tired,” as he pulls the comforter over his face. 

It wasn’t that the magic was gone. It was just hard to be on the same baseline. Tonight was no different, with San coming home from dance practice, and you coming home from working overtime. But something changed as you both got into bed. Maybe it was the way you looked so small in his big t-shirt, or maybe it was because of the post-dance practice adrenaline, but whatever it was, San was grateful and he wanted to make the most of it, the most of you. 

“I need to hear you. It’s been so long.” He whispered, as he slipped his half-hard cock into your panties, your wetness enveloping him like a warm, welcoming embrace. The sensation made you jolt your hips up, the almost forgotten feeling of his warm bulge brushing against your clit overwhelming you, making you crave more. He took a break from kissing your lips so he could hear your pretty, angelic moans, your uneven breaths alone making his cock harden up. 

Your pretty pink panties were already drenched, your juices coating his shaft as he grinded against your cunt. He liked seeing the outline of his cock inside your panties, like a clear, silken path on your silky skin.

“Sannie…” You whined, lifting a hand to rub his lower abs, his lazy strokes making your eyes flutter. You were both half asleep from the long work day, and it only heightened the sensations even more, every stroke against your clit sending waves of overwhelming pleasure throughout your body.

San grunted, his body tensing as his orgasm approached. He exploded over your cunt, your freshly worn panties now a messy, cum-stained piece of fabric. You let out a soft mewl as he pulled out, and he couldn't resist the urge to rub himself against your clothed pussy, the fabric so wet that it almost became transparent, revealing your perfect folds and swollen nub to him. “Mm, so messy baby,” He cooed, but he made no attempt to clean you up. Instead, he traced his thumb over your clothed clit, smearing his cum across your sensitive bud. You were so dirty now and it excited you both. San’s cock throbbed as he thought of your pretty pussy decorated with a mix of your combined juices. 

Before you knew it, your panties were drenched in your own sweet release, a powerful squirt that left you weak in the knees. Your body shook, every muscle convulsing with pleasure as he slowly pushed your panties to the side, revealing your most sensitive spot to him. As you came down, San proved he was not finished with you yet, and he lined up his hardened cock with your dripping wet hole, the head teasing the entrance, ready to plunge into your warmth for the first of many times that night.

 

[vivimura]

how riki eats pussy

riki devilishly grinned, his eyes gleaming with possessiveness as he pulled your little skirt up to your waist, exposing your skimpy panties. he leaned forward, pressing his face against the crotch where the material had soaked up, inhaling your scent deeply as he spoke. "you smell so fucking good, i can't even think straight."

a trembly exhale escaped your parted lips followed by a whimper, your hand instinctively flying to gently grip at his hair. your thighs threatened to buck close, but you held them open as he inhaled the musky scent of your arousal.

"riki.." you needily whined.

his hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers adorned with so many rings created slight impressions into the skin of them. he forcefully kept them spread wide as he continued to breathe in your intoxicating scent, his own arousal growing thick in his pants. "fuck," he muttered against your panties, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your covered pussy.

"h-hah.. please.." you whimpered out, nearly desperate for better stimulation. your poor, neglected pussy clenched around nothing out of distress, hips threatening to hump into his face. you let go of his hair, afraid to cause him discomfort and desperately gripped at the edge of the table you were seated on instead.

chuckling darkly at your pathetic whimper, he finally hooked his fingers into the lace of your panties, slowly pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your folds. "you want something, baby?" he asked, blowing hot air directly onto your exposed pussy.

your knuckles grew white over how tightly you gripped the table. your head tipped back half in pleasure and half frustration over his teasing, mouth parted to release a soft sigh. you further spread your legs, wriggling just a little closer to the edge and riki’s face expectantly. "please do something.."

he laughed softly, his warm breath tickling your sensitive folds. he slowly parted your lips with his thumbs, exposing your slick, pink flesh and the tiny bud hidden within.

with a wicked grin, he dove in without warning, his tongue dipping into your parted folds and lapping hungrily at your dripping slit. he groaned at your taste, the vibrations sending pleasant tingles through your core. his tongue circled your clit teasingly before sucking it between his lips.

you let out a high pitched mewl of pleasure, unable to resist reaching for his hair, slightly pushing him down to where you needed him the most as he ate you like a man starved. your legs trembled, barely managing to stay spread open. his hair tickling against your inner thighs furthered the sensations he gave you.

riki wrapped one of his hands around your thigh, forcing it to stay open. he moved down from your clit to your entrance, making obscene wet noises as he lapped his tongue against its folds. his other hand moved up to your clit, pressing down with just enough pressure as he circled it with his thumb, fucking you with his tongue at the same time.

“oh my god..” you moaned out, tightening your grip on the strands of his hair. your legs jerked and trembled when he stimulated just the spots that drove you crazy, the feeling of his warm, wet tongue inside you causing your hips to slightly snap forward.

he hummed against your pussy, his thumb working your clit faster as his tongue plunged deep inside you as his hand on your thigh held you down firmly. he could feel you getting closer, your inner walls tightening around his tongue as he thrust it in and out of you like a small, wet appendage.

"fuck—" you cursed between whimpers and moans, your pussy convulsing as an orgasm approached. your moans grew whinier and further frequent, a familiar knot threatening to break loose in the pit of your stomach. your eyes rolled to the back of your skull in utter bliss.

he could feel it building, the way your body tensed and your breathing hitched. he wrapped his lips around your swollen bud, suckling hard as he hooked his fingers inside you, curling them up to hit that magic spot inside you that always made you feel intoxicated. "look at me,"

with uncoordinated motions, you forced yourself to look down at him. he had a strong sense of dominance in his aura despite being the one knelt before you. you looked into his eyes with unfocused eyes and flushed cheeks, lips parted as you moaned out like a broken record.

“h-hng.. i think i’m gonna..”

his intense, dark orbs filled with lust and satisfaction at the expression on your face, his bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat caused by the heat of the moment. he began hooking his fingers deeper inside you and pleasured your clit with his mouth relentlessly. "gonna what?" he growled, his voice muffled by your pussy. "gonna what?"

“g-gonna—” you cut yourself off with a shaky cry of pleasure, finally tipping over the edge. your orgasm crashed in waves, and you began squirting all over his face, legs trembling with shocks.

he took it all, lapping up the sweet nectar that poured out of you as you convulsed and writhed. he held you down, not letting you pull away as he continued to lap up every last drop, his fingers still curled inside you, fucking you through your orgasm hitting your spot over and over, causing your release to further prolong.

after an intense few seconds, your orgasm subsided. you trembled like a leaf, your body slumping and nearly falling back flat against the table. you panted heavily and experienced the high riki had brought you.

when riki pulled away, it was a sight to fucking behold. his dark eyes were hazy, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, and his lips, absolutely drenched with your juices, curved up into the stupid smirk he always had on. he leaned forward to land one last kiss on your pussy.

standing up, his smirk only widened as he downed at your spent, euphoric form. he made sure you watched him as brought his slicked fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean.

mlist comment and reblog!

[mapis-putellas]

𝒀𝒐𝒖/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Alexia barely had time to react before her phone was gone, replaced by the weight of you settling into her lap. She blinked up at you, brows furrowing in confusion as you shoved your phone in her face. She took one look at the screen and smirked.

Her fingers settled on your waist. “Ah. Lo viste.”

You were already flushed, warmth creeping up your neck as you resisted the urge to throw your phone across the room. “Of course I saw it! What the hell, Alexia?”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “¿Qué?”

Your glare deepened, but she wasn’t fazed. She was enjoying this, the amusement twinkling in her eyes as her hands squeezed your hips.

“Don’t ‘qué’ me, baby. Do you know how many people are losing their minds over this?.”

Her smirk widened. “¿Incluyéndote?”

You groaned, dropping your forehead against her shoulder. “I hate you.”

She chuckled, her arms wrapping around you, fingers trailing teasingly along your spine. “No lo haces.”

You did. Right now, at least. Because that stupid ad -those stupid abs, the definition of every muscle, the way her ‘fuck me’ eyes burned into the camera like she knew exactly what she was doing- was going to be the death of you.

Lifting your head, you grabbed her face between your hands, forcing her to look at you. “You’re not allowed to be this hot. It’s illegal.”

She laughed, warm and low, the sound vibrating against your chest from where it was pressed flush against her own. “No puedo evitarlo.”

You groaned again, hands sliding to the back of her neck. “I should make you delete it.”

Her own hands slid up your sides, just beneath the edge of your shirt, slow and deliberate. “Nike no estará feliz con eso.”

You huffed, pressing your forehead to hers. “I’m gonna need you to wear a shirt. Forever.”

She grinned. “¿Celosa?”

You pulled back just enough to glare at her again. “Obviously.”

Her thumb traced soft circles against your back, her smirk softening into something fonder. “Solo importas tú.”

Your resolve crumbled immediately. She knew it, too, because she took the opportunity to flip you onto the couch, settling between your legs, her weight pressing you down just enough to make you breathless.

“Alexia,” you warned, but your hands were already threading through her hair.

Her lips brushed your jaw, her smirk returning. “Dime lo otra vez.”

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as warmth pooled low in your stomach.

She chuckled, her mouth moving lower. “Eso pensé.”

Your breath hitched as Alexia’s lips ghosted over your throat, her weight keeping you pinned beneath her. She was smug about it too -you could feel it in the way she smiled against your skin, in the teasing drag of her fingers down your ribs.

“Baby,” you tried, but it came out weaker than you intended, more of a breath than a word.

Alexia hummed, tilting her head to nip at the spot just beneath your jaw, the one she knew made you shiver. “Mmm?”

Your fingers tightened in her hair, tugging just enough to make her look at you. Her eyes were still burning with that same intensity, the one from the ad, the one that had you storming out here in the first place.

“This isn’t fair,” you huffed, but you still pulled her closer, your legs wrapping around her waist and squeezing tightly.

Her smirk softened, the sharp edges giving way to something more affectionate. “¿No?”

You shook your head. “No.”

She dipped down, brushing her nose against yours. “Entonces…¿qué quieres?”

You exhaled sharply. She knew exactly what you wanted. She just wanted to hear you say it.

“You,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips barely grazed yours. “Siempre soy tuya.”

And then she kissed you -slow, deep, like she had all the time in the world. Like she wanted to erase any trace of jealousy or frustration you had over that stupid ad and remind you that, at the end of the day, she was yours. Your hands slid under her shirt, tracing the toned muscles that had driven you insane just moments ago. She shivered under your touch, her breath hitching as she melted further into you.

You grinned, dragging your nails lightly down her back just to hear the quiet gasp she let out. “Mmm, maybe I shouldn’t be so mad after all,” you murmured against her lips.

Alexia chuckled, kissing you again, her body pressing you deeper into the couch. “Sabía que te gustaría.”

You huffed out a laugh, even as she kissed you again, stealing the breath right from your lungs. “That’s not the point, baby.”

Alexia hummed, clearly not paying attention, her hands slipping beneath your shirt, fingers pressing into the warm skin of your waist.

“Alexia,” you tried again, dragging her name out in warning.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her expression frustratingly innocent. “Sí, amor?”

You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the pet name. “You let the entire world see you like that before me.”

Her lips twitched. “Eres mi esposa. You see me every day.”

“That’s not the same!”

She arched a brow, a knowing glint in her eyes. “¿No?”

You groaned -because of course she was right- dropping your head back against the couch. “I hate you.”

Alexia laughed as she leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your throat. “No, you don’t.”

You sighed, tilting your head slightly to give her better access. “No, I don’t,” you admitted, your fingers tangling in her hair again. “But I do hate that now half the world wants you, and I can’t even fight them all off because they’re right.”

Alexia pulled back just enough to smirk at you. “You think I look good?”

You deadpanned. “Are you stupid?

Her smirk widened, and she pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Di lo otra vez.”

You refused to give her the satisfaction of an answer, instead choosing to drag her down into another kiss, your hands tightening in her hair. She melted into you immediately, her body molding perfectly against yours like it was made to be there. Her tongue grazed filthily against the roof of your mouth as she all but devoured you, and you groaned quietly as you tightened your legs around her waist, lifting your hips in an attempt at getting some relief.

That was all it took for Alexia to,scoop you up into her arms, hands cupping your ass and squeezing as she carried you through to the bedroom.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[xoluvx]

satisfy; b.eilish ❥₊ ⊹

please you begged as you hovered on her lap. lips brushing her ear. words melting on her hot skin as you whispered profanities.

i wanna fuck you so bad

i want you to fuck me too

you're so hot

please, daddy

the words were holy on your tongue. the same tongue that ran up the side of her neck stopping at her ear. your teeth gently pulled on her lobe as she sneered lifting her hips. the sudden jolt brought forth a unexpected moan from your lips. it cascaded down your pouting lips. your eyelids fluttered when she gripped your ass bringing you down firmly on her lap.

is this what you want? her voice was raspy. eyes daring. gaze dominating as you nodded losing every trace of feistiness as she asserted her authority. you surrendered completely when her hand trailed up your back. fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra, freeing you from its constraints, falling limply between your bodies. her eyes focused on the goosebumps forming on your skin. you bit your lip looking down at her. your arms limp on her shoulders.

tell me what you want she demanded with a gaze that was making your pussy throb harder than it'd been; it made you wetter than you already were. it made all the words in your brain turn into mush. you whimpered and hung your head down moving your hips, but she held a tight grip.

nah uh, tell me she groaned bringing a hand up to the back of your neck forcing your eyes on her. you bit your lip. her stare alone was stirring something inside you. you felt tight and hot and ready for whatever she gave you.. all you had to do what say those magic words.

i want you to fuck me, daddy you whimpered in between your jagged breathing.

magic word she tsked tightening her grip on your neck, forcing a gasp and a twinge in your throbbing pussy.

please, daddy you practically sang as she lifted her hips again moving them so wonderfully as you sat idle on her lap. it wasn't until she held your hips and moved them for you that you started matching her movements. the friction created by your clothes was intoxicating. it rubbed in all the right places as your pace increased.

you were overwhelmed every time she lifted her hips and brought you down on her lap bouncing desperately then switching back to grinding until you were pressing your body on hers. you felt her heavy breathing on your skin as you rutted your hips searching for your orgasm. you could feel it consuming your body, it was electrifying.

but she wasn't going to give it to you so easily. not after you'd begged for it and whispered things in her ear she wasn't going to let go of so easily.

no, you'd asked to be fucked and your wish was her command. it'd be fulfilled on the couch, on the counter, in the shower, on the bed; she wasn't going to stop 'til your legs were shaking and your lips were quivering.

she'd satisfy every need...

⋆˙⟡ on the couch with your body on her lap and her hands on your hips. on your ass. on your thighs. with your hips grinding and her teeth sinking into your skin.

⋆˙⟡ on the the counter with your leg on the cool surface and her body pressed on your back. with her fingers in your pussy and her lips so sweetly whispering in your ear my good girl. you were her good girl every time you pushed your ass back and moved on her fingers. excellent girl when you moaned her name and begged for more. perfect girl when you came on her fingers and licked them clean.

⋆˙⟡ in the shower pressed on the cold wall. cheek sliding down from the condensation as she held your hips. her pelvis made contact with your ass repeatedly. her lips pressed on your cheek. water trickling down your skin intensifying the sounds made by your clashing bodies in the confined space.

⋆˙⟡ finally on the bed with your bodies still coated with droplets of water and your shivering skin. with your legs over her shoulders and her tongue on your throbbing pussy. with your hands in her wet hair and her lips wrapped around your clit. her tongue lapping your wet pussy. fingers gliding, curling, pulling you closer to the last orgasm you could muster.

chanting her name. breathing heavily. choking on your spit as she satisfied your every need.

[arkhamsbrat]

you were robbed of summer, i was robbed of you

jason todd x civilian reader

when jason left, your light did too. six years of your life spent attached at jason’s hip crumbled around you with one knock on your door, and a small shoe box of old journals and trinkets was placed in your hands. they told you the funeral was that next week. you barely had time to register that they told you how he really died. asked you to keep it to yourself.

that boy you spent your childhood with, running through dark allies and making the best of your shitty little lives was gone. the boy who read to you, sat in the gamestop and played the trial of mario kart with you til you got kicked out, gone. you didn’t even get to say goodbye. they didn’t even let you see him before they buried him.

at least the bastard pitied you was kind enough to let you visit Mr. Wayne’s graveyard. you left letters, flowers, anything that reminded you of him. there were too many times that Mr. Wayne found you passed out against his tombstone. you’d wake up back in your own home, unsure of how you got there. it didn’t matter.

the next four years were miserable, barely scraping by without a few trips to the hospital from your constant exhaustion. you made it, at least. got a little cat to give you something to motivate you. her name was robin. a little stray you found on your fire escape. jason would’ve loved her.

you could see it when you closed your eyes. jason sitting on your couch, crooked smile wide as robin climbed all over him. how he’d whisper to her when he thought you couldnt hear. you saw him everywhere, doing everything. because that’s where he should be.

heroes came back all the time. the flashes, superboy, impulse, even batman. what did you need to do to bring him back? what did you have to give up? did you need to tear yourself in two all over again just to get your best friend back?

these thoughts played over and over, every single day that passed. it got to the point where you could see little silver hairs sprouting out of your head after april passed. they got thicker in august, when you kneeled by the edge of your toilet and sobbed so hard you got sick. he should be 21 now, piss drunk on your ragged old couch and cackling at how you stumbled around.

you felt pathetic when robin came and nuzzled at your leg, meowing for your attention. you ran your fingers through her fur before pulling her into your arms, feeling her purr. “how dumb do i look right now, jayce?” you muttered to yourself, bitterly. “makin’ you real proud, i bet.”

you didn’t hear the boots hit against your fire escape, nor did you see red hood slink down to peer through your smudged windows. it’d become a habit of his, though he was disappointed you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should’ve been.

jason watched. almost nightly. thats more than what he thought he deserved. nearly threw up in his mask the first time he saw your grey streak, stress induced.

the two of you were strangers now, he reminded himself consistently. the boy you knew was long gone, and he strongly doubted you would ever accept any of his changes. he’d hoped you’d changed for the worst. maybe he’d find something he could move on from. something to hate you for. maybe he could throw away the letters he wrote to you in hopes that one day he could come to you. in hopes he’d be able to come home.

thats what he’d always found in you. he craved it- the simplicity of you. hell, he’d even take you yelling at him for being stupid. for leaving you. he’d find a home in that, as long as it was your voice raising at him. before he came back, he was afraid you’d forgotten. he’d hoped you didn’t, in a fucked up way he hoped you’d hurt the same way he did. that you’d never forgotten him.

he regretted those wishes the minute he saw you crying over a cheap cookie with a candle stabbed through, drunk off your own ass. the date didn’t even cross his mind when he landed, only looking to check in on you. he had to fight back his own tears when it dawned on him. even now, you cared about his birthday?

if he wasn’t so stupid you wouldn’t be alone. if he didn’t care so much, if he didn’t go to-

you looked up before he got to finish any of his thoughts, letting out a shrill scream when you saw the masked vigilante on your fire escape. if he wasn’t so upset he would’ve laughed at how fast you grabbed your cat and raced to your bedroom, nearly tripping against the toys strewn about the floor. he’d wanted to mock you about how you spoiled that cat. jason wanted to be with you again. to be normal with you.

he’d never see you again if he could just tell you that you’re what got him through it all. it’s always been you, always will be. thirty minutes pass while he contemplated if he deserves to be selfish with you before he just said fuck it. he slid your window open and slipped through, searching for your room.

he’d get on you about actually locking the damn window later.

jason couldn’t find it in him to care about hiding that it was him. it was you he was telling. no matter the fear blooming from deep withinin him, he knew you’d see him. trust him. love him, if he let you.

the red hood mask got thrown onto your couch while he scrambled to your door. he knew you could hear his footsteps, probably scared shitless. how was he supposed to start this?

“been a long time…” he spoke, barely able to mask the shake in his voice. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d still think about me, honestly. i hoped you did, but… everyone else seemed to replace me. shoulda known you never would’ve…” jason couldn’t feel how his whole body shook as he kept speaking, barely remembering when he slid down to the floor.

“thought about you every god damn day, y’know? always wanted to tell you that. wondered if you went to school. if you were still damn awful at chemistry… did’jya start workin’ at that little cafe? said y’would once you turned sixteen…” he rambled on, tears spilling down his scarred cheeks. “i know y��don’t know me anymore… y’lost your jason… but i probably lost my you too… y’look miserable. that my fault too?”

jason heard the floorboards creak from the other side of the door. a quiet shuffling, alongside a very upset meow as a cats paw swiped under the door, catching at his jeans. he laughed quietly, setting his hand down so the cat could paw at him instead of the jeans that he just stole off some douchebag that tried to mug a mother thrifted. he felt his whole body tense when you finally spoke. “her name’s robin… thought jason would’ve liked that. none’a this is his fault.”

“i do.” he pressed his head against the door, seconds away from begging you to open it. a cat… you named your scraggly ass cat after him. you sounded exhausted- if he could snap his fingers and take it all from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “jason’s dead… they said he got killed by…” he let out a sharp sigh. “i wanted to come back to you, i swear. it’s a real long story.”

he heard more shuffling behind the door, and then a click. your head peeked through the crack. “…i never make plans on your birthday…i have time?” for the first time in a long time, jason felt a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “are you gonna remember any of this in the morning, drunkard?”

his grin widens when you shrug, teary eyes boring into his. “then i get to see you for the first time all over again. jackass.”

[galahadenough]

Okay, I was going to be all tumblr-whispering in the tags, but no. I want to say this.

Because it’s so frustrating.

I’ve tried (very gently, mind you, because I know how hard society can get on a person when this word gets used as a label) telling my therapist I have a reading addiction. And I just got told what you’re always told about reading.

It’s good for you! Good for you for reading so much!

And I’ve never wanted to stand my ground and push back, to make a passionate case for it, because I love reading. I adore it and always have. But also because it’s a crutch that I sorely need, which I think all addictions probably are at the root of them, and I’m lucky enough to be labeled an avid reader instead of an addict.

And, no, I’ve never to my knowledge had an addiction to, like, drugs or alcohol, so I apologize in advance if it feels like I’m making light of addictions. But I’ve seen people describing addictions and it resonated so well with some of my experiences.

I don’t just pick up a book when I have time. I am sometimes absolutely desperate to read. It feels like homesickness. It’s an ache. And sometimes it’s because I’m in a good story but sometimes it’s not even something I’m enjoying. It’s just a way to not exist for a while.

When it’s at its worst I’ll feel physically ill from reading too much and not be able to stop.

Fanfiction probably makes it so much worse because it’s a bottomless well that flows from one fic to another that there’s no concise beginning or end.

It’s this same thing. It’s self isolating, from others and even from myself. I can cease to exist. And like self-isolating it can be hard to see or is even praised.

im going to come out and say it: isolating is a self-destructive behavior. it might not be as obvious and immediately self-destructive as say, impulsive spending, drug use or risky behaviors, but it gradually decays relationships and can deepen your mental health issues. often, our impulse is to retreat from others and responsibilities for “self care” or to “work on ourselves” and obviously sometimes we need mental health breaks, but there’s a line you cross from “taking a break” to full on neglecting your relationships with others and your social needs that can be incredibly damaging to yourself and others over time

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about husband!yoongi who also happens to be a ceo, the very reason why he has the ability to spoil you rotten whenever he wants to.

“yoongi, come on!” you call out to your husband, seeing him still sitting on a chair while you’ve been here in the pool for a considerably long time now, expecting that he was going to join you shortly after like he said earlier.

however, it’s been roughly ten minutes now and he’s stuck there on his patio chair, scrolling through his phone and enjoying the bottle of wine he opened before you dipped yourself in the water.

“i change my mind,” he says, a bit sheepish. “the water looks cold, babe. i don’t think i want to.”

you roll your eyes, swimming closer to him. “then why did you even book us a suite with a private pool?”

“because i know you’d love it.” he smiles. “and also because i was expecting we’d swim in the daytime.”

“what’s the fun in that?”

“uh, perhaps, feeling fresh and cool and—”

“babe,” you cut him off, leaning now on the edge of the pool, “just join me.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you laugh as you see him hesitantly standing up and taking his shirt off, soon going to the steps of the pool where it leads him deeper and where you’re already waiting for him as well.

yoongi childishly holds out his hand to you, which you take with a laugh, helping him to fully sink himself in the water.

“fuck, it’s cold,” he says with a grimace and a shiver, something that makes you grin, immediately putting your arms on his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist once he goes closer.

“you’re so dramatic.”

“it is, though. look, i have goosebumps.” he raises his arm and you glance at it, snorting.

“okay, point proven, big baby.”

yoongi looks at you and breaks off into a big smile, chuckling and encircling his arms on your waist, giving your lips a quick kiss.

“enjoying this trip so far?”

“yup.” you nod.

“good.”

the both of you kiss again, this time much longer now, with yoongi angling his face to the side so he can do it better, one hand resting on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing against it.

you can feel your heartbeat escalating at just the feel of him this near, your skin touching and bringing a little warmth in the cold water. it makes yoongi think that he should have just done this much earlier rather than prolonging it from happening because of his laziness at the thought of taking a shower after this.

“thanks for bringing me here,” you murmur against his mouth, your own curving up in a smile. “i never thought we’d actually go overseas for our anniversary.”

“it’s not like we haven’t done it before.” his hold on you tightens as you place little kisses on his jaw down to his neck, eventually settling on leaning your head on his shoulder. “besides, i think i need to make up for the fact i forgot last year’s anniversary.”

you laugh at the memory. “it’s okay. you already told me that you forgot it because our wedding date and the day we started dating confused you. plus, you took me to that restaurant i love.”

“still though… the first year is supposed to be memorable.”

“no, it isn’t. the first year’s supposed to be the hardest.” you pull back to smile at him. “so, you get a pass.”

“thank god,” he jokes and chuckles, you doing the same.

“but seriously, yoon,” you play with the hair on the back of his head, gazing at his eyes, “thank you. you always go ahead of yourself just to do things for me—to make me happy, you know?”

“why are you thanking me? it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

“no. you could have been a shitty boyfriend, and then a shitty husband but... you’re just the best. you’ve given me everything i could possibly want and been the man i needed. i’m so lucky to have you.”

yoongi gazes at you in absolute awe, that amazing feeling again spreading in his chest and making him feel all giddy and happy.

he wasn’t lying when he said that thanking him wasn’t needed, but the acknowledgement and the appreciation you’re showing surely makes him pleased, heart getting bigger because of it.

“you’re drunk, aren’t you?” he nevertheless asks though, teasing and taking the opportunity of you being lovey-dovey, that you hit his bare chest without hesitation.

“i’m serious,” you whine.

“i know, baby, which makes me glad. but it’s only what you deserve, okay? the reason why i’m doing this, i mean. you’ve been there for me too—when i was in the worst place, when the company almost went bankrupt… you were the one who picked me up to my feet, loved me unconditionally. so… let’s be real. i’m the real lucky one here.”

you smirk, fondly staring at every feature he has on his face, smiling wide. “are we just going to start saying our vows again?”

he snorts. “says the woman who started being sappy.”

“do you want me to apologize for letting my husband know i love him?”

“no,” he shakes his head, not helping himself as he leans closer to you so that he can place his lips over yours again, “i love it when you say that you love me.”

“and i really do, you know. i’ll never get tired saying how much i love you so much,” you agree almost immediately, melting into the kiss again.

he hums contently, caressing your sides. “i love you too, baby. you’re the reason why i thank the heavens for being alive every single day.”

under the stars and the moon that night, until the moment the two of you decide to take that intimate moment right there inside, it feels like a second honeymoon with yoongi.

you know he’s a busy man, a workaholic—and yet the fact that he can spare this much time for you to make you feel loved on the very same day you got married, makes you think all over again how fortunate you are to be with someone like him who works hard for you both but never forgets to cherish you.

[revvethasmythh]

listen, now that everything is said and done i'm going to say something i've been thinking but not outright saying for the past nearly four years. frankly, imogen and laudna's relationship is a pale shadow of caleb and veth's and if you really sit and think about it, it's outright embarrassing for the former party. it's like if you saw a beautiful piece of art and tried to emulate it and then the only thing you managed to jot down that was the same was the basic shape and you never added any color when the color was the most important part. imogen and laudna's relationship is formed out of almost the exact same origins (troubled mage who needs to keep a distance from regular society joins up with monstrous misfit with a traumatic backstory and become each other's most important person while traveling place-to-place because they keep getting into trouble in cities). the difference is, genuinely, how much more colorful and lived in caleb and veth's story feels. they met in a podunk county jail and worked together to break out of the place, stayed together for practical reasons (straight-up survival) and then out of genuine friendship. they were hobos in the woods together. they cuddled on the side of the roads on cold nights together. they were genuinely each other's sole lifeline because they were the type of people no one in the world cared about in a very real, visceral way. they were also con artists, and sam and liam worked together to come up with an entire booklet of different cons they used to survive, which come into play surprisingly often during the campaign (Modern Literature, famously, but also Mother's Love and Money Pot featured).

comparatively, we know next to nothing about what imogen and laudna's lives looked like after leaving gelvaan, and the Incident™️ that sent them running in the first place remains amorphous and random no matter how many times the story is told or whatever extra details get added. the people of gelvaan found laudna to be a generically threatening presence (because of her fun-scary appearance and/or kooky-fun-scary behavior) and picked up their torches and pitchforks to run her out of town. imogen heard her thoughts and found them so beautiful she nearly killed two of the townspeople she grew up with the defend her and then they fled into the night together. and that's it. what did they do for two entire years after that? i don't know! neither do you. they don't appear to have struggled for money like caleb and veth did, there's no reference to hard-living, no real reference to what jobs they took to stay afloat, no mention of the practical realities of living as homeless nomads, no mention of towns and cities they'd visited and how those places impacted them. nothing. empty. no color. how did their relationship develop? also don't know! they seem to have slotted together perfectly as friends with no conflict for years before slotting together perfectly as lovers while batting aside all attempts at conflict later. done and dusted, that's the relationship, and people have the gall to call caleb and veth's successor relationship 'soulmatism' when it doesn't hold a candle to what the original offered.

which was, to be clear, endless complexity. i can't tell you how to define it, and i don't think the character's themselves could define it if they tried. sam went into the campaign intending to lean into a familial relationship and quickly realized that wasn't the vibe, course-corrected into veth having a crush on caleb--something sam has said developed fairly early in the campaign.* liam went into the relationship not intending to care about her nearly as much as he ended up doing, then spent the early campaign eps grappling with just how suddenly important she was to him, to the point that, in the face of her potentially dying in episode 20, liam says to sam, "do you want to make my character turn evil already?"** both were surprised at how tightly their characters clung to each other, and developed a deeply caring, highly insular dynamic where they were suspicious of outsiders and desperately guarded each other. with full retrospect, both went into the relationship intending to use each other (caleb for general usefulness/protection and veth, obviously, hoping caleb could change her back one day), then found such deep and tender care that they became each other's worlds. for a time. until nott became veth and veth had a husband and it sent their relationship into a tailspin because no matter how you frame the relationship, caleb clearly felt his feelings for her and the way they behaved together stepped over the line of how one should act with a married woman. after that, he is terrified of the idea that he might not have a place in her life and works so hard to create opportunities to insinuate himself into her present and future (teleportation spells so she can travel home quickly and still return to the group, making room for her family in the tower so she can stay with him, offering to tutor luc in magic to stay in her life, etc). veth gets her body and her life back but fears returning home will be lackluster compared to what she's experienced with the group, starts falling out of love with her husband, and has intense extra-martial feelings for caleb that are canonical. their relationship morphs and changes constantly throughout the campaign, and the one thing about their dynamic that never changes is how deeply and truly they love each other. you want to talk about soulmatism? them being the two party members with fake names who's real names share aspects of each other ("Bren" and "Brenatto") both from small-town dwendalian empire who's lives have been deeply impacted by meddling of the cerberus assembly (veth's in adulthood, caleb's in childhood) and who's deepest traumas are respectively fire and water does the trick for me.

so why is one so popular and the other, particularly as a romantic ship, very much is not? it would be obtuse of me not to immediately point to the fact that imogen and laudna are two pretty, skinny white women who claim to have deliciously little agency in their own stories and provide a blank enough canvas that the relationship can be whatever you want it to be. there's a reason there's so many AU fics for them, after all. caleb and veth on the other hand would center first a relationship between the handsome white fandom-popular sadboi and *checks notes* a self-described ugly, unfeminine goblin with deep neuroses and later a short, fat brown woman who also happens to be a young mother from a small country town. popular fandom, tragically, will almost always turn away from dealing with complexity of the latter for the empty calories of the former regardless of the quality gap between the two. if anything, watching the popularity of imogen and laudna's relationship has cemented my opinion that if veth had been different (either a man or a generically attractive white woman or someone more conventionally pretty just in general), widobrave would have been a massively popular ship, and i think it would have been regardless of veth's marriage. people can forgive a lot to write about their two generically attractive favorites getting together. they're a lot less forgiving for an ugly goblin or a fat, brown young mother, though.

tldr: reject modernity, embrace tradition. ship widobrave

*Talks Machina for C2E88, VOD no longer available, but a paraphrase of the quote can be found here **(2:09:30 on the YouTube VOD).

[ddlydevotion]

dating hamzah al-emad includes...

currently listening to: lust for life by lana del rey ft the weeknd ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Hamzah quite honestly doesn’t have too much experience when it comes to romantic relationships. He’s constantly worried that he’ll do or say something wrong, so please reassure him when the situation calls for it.

he lovelovelovess having you around him as much as possible. You honestly could never “bother” him, even if he’s editing/coming up with video ideas. One day you asked Hamzah if he’d like some alone time to get some editing done and he immediately said:

“no-what are you talking about? Here, come sit down.”

You’re one of the very few people that don’t easily overstimulate him lmao

This man has insane attachment issues when it comes to you and has no issue letting you know when he misses/wants to see you. You could be out of the apartment running errands and your phone will be filled with messages from him.

‘me and the cats miss u very much btw if u even care…’

‘when are you coming homeee ;(‘

Please don’t be shocked when he comes up to you asking for very specific things that he may need for a video involving Martin. For example, where do you think he got the skirt for his White Chicks costume? Exactly.

Even if someone is meeting him for the very first time, they’ll immediately be able to tell he has a girlfriend because he’s constantly wearing something symbolic of you. That bracelet you randomly made him one night? It’s practically glued to his wrist. Your claw clip practically has a home on his belt loop. So, these little things make it pretty easy for people to decipher the fact that he’s taken.

Recording with Martin takes up quite a bit of his time so he’s constantly putting in the effort to see you, hear your voice, and speak with you in general. You’re constantly receiving photos/videos/voice memos from Hamzah when he’s in the middle of filming.

He always makes sure to bring you something back when Martin and him visit a restaurant, or a location that’s stocked up on items he knows you enjoy.

Hamzah has been through a whole lot and has experienced his fair share of loneliness. He isn’t too good with his words/voicing just how much you and your presence mean to him but he tries soso hard. There’ll be a lot of sighs and stutters filling the pauses in his sentences but that doesn’t stop his adoration from shining through.

“I just- I love you so much, y/n. I hope I say it enough, y’know? I’m really serious about you and I know I might not be the most experienced guy when it comes to this, but I hope that doesn’t make you doubt how serious I am about you. Because I am- serious about you, I mean.”

These sorts of conversations tend to happen late at night when the warmth between your two bodies blossoms endlessly. He holds you tight as your cheek is pressed against his chest. He can’t help but hold you the same way he’d hold a knife.

In his eyes, the two of you are in this for the long run and he doesn’t hide his intentions of marrying you. He even slipped up and called you his wife in a video once.

‘Yesterday, me and my wife- well…make that my future wife.’ and then a cheesy lil smirk spreads across his face 😭

He even made the both of you in Sims and made it so that the two of you got married. Mandy and Martin couldn’t help but tease him about it.

He loves you with his entire fucking being and he wants nothing but to be good for you, good to you, be the one to make you smile, laugh, feel at ease. He adores being able to do domestic activities with you since it gives him a glimpse into how it’ll be like once the two of you eventually get married. As I said, he puts in soooo much effort into making you happy so he definitely attempts to get good at cooking so he can surprise you with breakfast in bed/homemade dinner. He stills puts in the effort to learn how to cook even if you already know how to. He wants to surprise you so bad so pls let him (╥‸╥) (even if the French toast he made is a lil burnt)

Follows you around like a lost puppy. His hand is constantly reaching for yours, his arms are instantly wrapped around you as soon as the two of you get into bed, he always makes room for you to sit in his lap.

a/n: I haven’t written in quite awhile but I had to come back since my obsession with this man has worsened this past week 😞. Feel free to send requests 💌🧸

[hipstersfoundmyrobot]

Over the past ten years, Danny Fenton’s life has been a whirlwind, and that’s an understatement. Nonetheless, despite being the Ghost King and a consultant for the JLD as Phantom, Danny’s life is ordinary. Or as ordinary as a halfa king could manage.

Danny remembers being 17 and feeling so helpless and overwhelmed, especially when Jazz moved away for college. He didn’t expect that to be the end of his struggles. His sister coming back for Christmas break with the Justice League in tow was not on his bingo card, nor were his parents and Vlad being tried for supervillainy or the Anti-Ecto Acts and the GIW being a hoax. However, according to Tucker, the most surprising part of their senior year was their trio graduating with near-perfect attendance and good grades.

Nowadays, life is good for Danny. While his responsibilities as the High King of the Infinite Realms and his attachment to his haunt keep him from leaving Amity Park, he has found balance. After his identity as Phantom was revealed to the town, the community rallied in support of the half-dead teenager who saw his parents go to jail. Following Jazz’s insistence, he has enrolled in an online Astronomy and Engineering degree, which he finds much easier than high school. He doesn’t even have to worry about money, being the new owner of FentonWorks and DalvCo.

All in all, life is, finally, cutting the halfa some slack, which is why he now has more free time to fill, ergo his current situation. Sam, Tucker and Jazz are debating on his computer screen about what hobby he should try.

“Danny, dude, I’m telling you, you should take programming classes. We could make our own video game and-“Tucker’s excited rant cuts off as Jazz mutes the both of them.

“After the ecto-contamination of everyone in Amity, you’ll probably find a lot of people willing to join an environmentalist group. You know my activism rubbed off on you.” Sam’s voice is almost covered by the deep sigh that escapes Tucker and Danny can’t help but smile at his best friends’ antics.

“You guys, we’re trying to figure out something Danny would like. Baby brother, what is something you’d like to do ?” Danny can’t help but miss his sister when he sees her exasperated smile at his friends’ insistence that he tries something they like.

Leaning against his desk, his face in his hand, he shrugs, a bit embarrassed. “Actually, I did have an idea but I’m not sure.” On his screen, his sister’s face is open and supportive, meanwhile, Sam and Tucker don’t seem to have noticed they were inaudible. “I, maybe, wanted to try streaming ? You guys obviously don’t have as much time to play video games with me and it’s really not the same on my own… I like the idea of finding a community of people who enjoy listening to my weird space and ghost rants without having to leave Amity. Not that the Parkers aren’t my friends but—” He pushes his hair out of his face with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “I guess I want to meet new people ? But I don’t actually want to meet them.”

“That sounds great, Danny.” Jazz, supportive as always, finally unmutes the two.

“Yeah dude, I’m down to help you set it all up. You’re gonna need equipment-“

“And you’re gonna need to ectoproof it too. Are you going to hide your identity ? Acting like ghosts and your powers are the norm would be so funny.”

“Right, you could ask a ghost artist to make your channel art. You clearly already have a niche thing going, you know ?” His Fraid’s excitement makes Danny feel more confident in his idea.

“What do you guys think of the name CosmicSpecter ?”

Jason has been back in Gotham for about two years. His relationship with his family is still strained but it is improving. He has a good thing going with Red Hood and his gang. However, he is still plagued by the Pit Madness, despite his best efforts he still doesn’t feel like himself. Meanwhile, everyone around him has accepted, however reluctantly, that this is who he is now, but Jason refuses to. He knows this isn’t him, but he is resigned that the foreign rage trying to control him will torment him until his (next) dying breath.

Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s the scary TubeYou algorithm that has him clicking on the livestream thumbnail while tittering close to the Pit Rage. The guy has 463 subscribers and 6 current viewers and he’s halfway through a burrito when Jason joins. The light is dim, and his eyes seem to be reflecting the light. A meta, maybe ?

“Hiya ‘botched-resurrection’, nice to see a fellow undead here.” He takes a swig of a too green liquid from a soda bottle and flashes the camera with a wide smile. “We’ll go back to playing once I’m done eating. This new joint opened a few years ago, since our town isn’t under a fake government lockdown anymore, and honestly, I’m pleasantly surprised. My sister is probably relieved I’m eating something other than a burger.” The guy’s eyes widen slightly when a $20 donation comes through from one ‘jazz_hands’. “Really Jazz ? ‘Twenty whole American dollars in hopes you’ll eat healthier food one day’. There are real vegetables in here you know ? You’re being too harsh. Also stop sending me money as an excuse to embarrass me on stream.”

This is the start of the prologue I'm posting on ao3 tomorrow probably, I'll link once it's up

Streamer Danny AU, but he’s a really minor streamer. Like, he does it mainly just for his own fun and only has a few intermittent viewers.

But somehow Jason finds his channel anyway, and something about his voice is captivating. The pit rage quiets down in his presence. So he starts tuning in to basically every stream, or just putting on the VODs in the background to fall asleep to.

And on the other side, Danny takes note of this new subscriber who’s quite possibly his first truly dedicated viewer. So he starts interacting with him on stream sometimes - greeting him when he shows up in the chat, specifically asking/answering questions, etc

Needless to say, this did not help Jason’s growing semi-parasocial crush in the slightest…

[yois2aki]

wc. 0.7k

the moonlight streamed through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room as caleb slept beside you, his arm draped over your waist. his steady breathing was the only sound, a rhythmic comfort that made you feel safe. but deep within the recesses of his mind, caleb was far from peaceful. the nightmare came in flashes, images of you in danger, of him failing to protect you. it started with a distant voice, one he didn’t recognize, calling out your name—sharp and desperate.

“no!” he gasped, jolting awake, his heart pounding in his chest.

his eyes darted around the room, wide and frantic, and for a brief, terrifying moment, he thought he saw shadows creeping along the walls. his body was tense, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tried to ground himself in reality. the room was still, silent, save for the soft sound of your breathing beside him.

he turned to you, his face pale, eyes wide with fear. you stirred in your sleep, unaware of the storm raging inside him. but the panic didn’t fade, it only grew. the images were still vivid in his mind—your body crumpling to the ground, his hands reaching out but failing to catch you, unable to protect you from whatever danger had come for you. the thought of losing you, of not being able to keep you safe, twisted something deep within him.

without thinking, he shot up from the bed, his breath shallow as he stood by the side of the bed, looking over you like a soldier on guard. he scanned the room, the familiar comfort of it now suddenly foreign and threatening. he couldn’t take his eyes off you, his protective instincts kicking in like a switch. you were safe now, but what if something happened? what if it happened again?

you shifted in your sleep, and caleb froze, heart racing as you murmured his name. he rushed back to the bed, kneeling beside it, his hand hovering over you like he was afraid to touch you too roughly. “hey,” he whispered, his voice thick with anxiety. “baby, wake up.”

you groggily opened your eyes, disoriented, the soft warmth of sleep still clouding your mind. “caleb?” your voice was hoarse, but your confusion only added to his growing unease.

“i couldn’t protect you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice breaking as the nightmare’s grip tightened. “i couldn’t keep you safe…”

your brow furrowed, still caught between the real world and the dream world. “caleb, what are you talking about?” you reached out, touching his arm gently. “what’s going on?”

he was trembling now, and his hand, which had been hovering over you just moments ago, now gripped the edge of the bed as if holding on for dear life. his eyes were wide, filled with terror, and you could see the raw vulnerability behind them, the same vulnerability that he only allowed himself to show in your presence.

“you were—” he stopped, taking a shaky breath, trying to calm himself but finding it impossible. “you were in danger. i couldn’t get to you in time. i… i failed.” his voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to erase the haunting images from his mind. “i couldn’t protect you.”

you sat up slowly, now fully awake, your heart aching at the sight of the usually calm and composed caleb so unravelled. you placed both hands on his cheeks, gently guiding him to look at you. “caleb,” you said softly, your voice steady, “you haven’t failed me. you’re here. you’re always here, and i’m safe with you.”

but he shook his head, the self-doubt crawling into his thoughts. “what if something happens when i’m not around? what if i can’t protect you when you need me the most?” his grip on your hand tightened. “i can’t lose you. i can’t…”

you could feel his fear, his overwhelming need to keep you safe, and you cupped his face, grounding him with your touch. “caleb, listen to me,” you said, the conviction in your voice helping to pull him back from the edge of his panic. “you are my protector, but you can’t control everything. you can’t be everywhere at once. i know you’d do anything to keep me safe, but i need you to know that i’m not going anywhere. i trust you, and i trust us. okay?”

his breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, searching your eyes for any trace of doubt. but all he found was love and reassurance. he swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “i can’t lose you,” he repeated, his voice a mere whisper.

“you won’t,” you promised, leaning in to kiss him gently, your lips soft against his. “you’re not going to lose me. i’m right here.”

caleb finally relaxed, his breathing slowing as he pulled you into his arms. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i just… i can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”

“i know, caleb,” you whispered back, your head resting against his chest. “i know.”

and there, wrapped in each other’s arms, caleb finally allowed himself to believe that you were safe, even if only for the moment. the fear was still there, lingering in the back of his mind, but with you beside him, he would fight to keep you safe for as long as he could.

[heechwe]

anything for you | 𝐣𝐰𝐰

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ MY FIC FOR JUPITER'S SECRET CUPID COLLAB

୨୧ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3k ୨୧ genre: slight comedy, fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: best friends to lovers au, drunk confession, dirty talk, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating ୨୧ synopsis: Wonwoo has been your best friend forever. And maybe something more could be in the cards with a mature, sophisticated confession. Or a lot of alcohol.

⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by LANY's song "anything 4 u"! Big thanks to my betas for this fic Tiya (@gyubakeries), Honey (@heesuncore), and Mitchie (@seokgyuu)! I love you all so much. And this fic is for my Secret Cupid Ally (@lovetaroandtaemin)!! I love you loads and you're an incredible friend. I'm so glad I got you so I could share a small token of appreciation for our friendship. I hope you love this story as much as I did writing it! ♥︎

Valentine’s Day weekend. The one weekend you have to suffer through everything being doused in red, pink, and white decorations. It’s everywhere: across your work office, all around the city you live in, and even plastered around the hole-in-the-wall bar that all of your friends are drinking in now. 

It’s not one of your least favorite holidays, per se. But the intensity of it can be incredibly draining. The constant declarations of affection, the emotionally gooey visual representations of one’s desire for another person, it’s too much even for some of your own friends who are coupled up. 

The reality of your loneliness pushes your mood down just enough that staring down your third bottle of beer makes you yearn for another, despite your alcohol tolerance being less than stellar. And to make matters worse, it sucks to be surrounded by others’ happiness when you’re so alone in love and in love with someone too enmeshed in your life as a friend, rather than a person of romantic interest.

Wonwoo sits with Vernon and Soonyoung at the high-top bar, nursing tequila shots and Coronas without bothering to look back at the rest of your table of friends. Yes, you were all celebrating Soonyoung’s new promotion and Vernon finally nabbing a girlfriend in time for Valentine’s this year, and they only stalked off a few minutes ago to share a few drinks on their own, but you wish Wonwoo was sitting next to you again. 

You always mocked him for telling you to slow down. To drink water to avoid dehydration or to eat something to offset your alcohol intake. With all of his parroted wisdom that drives some of his closest friends crazy, you love him for it. You love him for a lot of reasons, really.

“Maybe you should just tell him, you know?” Seokmin says across from you, looking over at you from the rim of his Whiskey Sunrise. It’s a sickly shade of red, grenadine mixed in with the other ingredients to commemorate the holiday season. You wonder if it tastes like cough syrup, because it sure looks like it.

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” You ask with a slur, licking the remaining beer on your lips. “It’s not that easy to destroy seven years of friendship.”

“Come on. You act like nobody else has noticed when it’s plain as day, babe,” Seungkwan pipes up next to you, elbowing you softly in the ribs with an accompanying waggle of his eyebrows.

“And what is your best course of action, Dum and Dee?” You split your stare between both of your friends, your irritation peaking. “I just go over to that bar and confess everything to him. Then he’ll say he’s felt the same this entire time and we ride off into the sunset together?”

“One, you don’t need to be rude,” Seokmin responds. “Two, you don’t have to make it so dramatic. Get him alone tomorrow, maybe. Talk it out, see where it goes.”

“Exactly,” Seungkwan says. “It doesn’t need to be this big movie scene thing.”

“What movie?” Soonyoung asks, sitting back down next to Seungkwan and in front of his empty bowl of ramen. The other boys follow suit, Vernon alongside Seokmin and Wonwoo next to you once again.

It feels like torture and sanctuary in the same moment, so close but so far from what you wish the two of you could be.

“Nothing, just this documentary we all saw the other night,” you respond. You press your lips to your bottle again, pouting when the last droplets hit your tongue. “I’m gonna get another,” you say to nobody in particular. Wonwoo perks up once he notices you stumbling to get out of your chair.

“Not so fast,” Wonwoo says as you fall back into his arms. “I think I should get you home.”

“No, the night’s still young!” You whine into his jacket, your hair ruffling the skin on his neck. His chest rumbles with laughter, but nothing at the moment is funny to you. You don’t want to leave just yet, and he doesn’t need to treat you like a baby. “We still haven't even gone to karaoke.”

“Another night. Go sleep it off!” Vernon calls from behind you.

“You kids have fun!” Seokmin says with a conspiratory wink. You and Wonwoo walk towards the entrance of the bar, and you want to throw something at Seokmin to make your idiot best friend’s dumb smirk and even more ridiculous idea of confessing your feelings to your mutual friend blip out of existence.

Wonwoo has seen you at your lowest. He consoled you after you ran your car into a parked motorcycle when you were sixteen, your humiliation palpable the whole three hours you both waited for the police to show up. He’s held you in his arms after every failed romantic relationship, telling you it was always them and never you when it ended poorly. There’s nothing the two of you haven’t been there for each other for, no experience too vulnerable to share and overcome together.

But Wonwoo holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you throw up may just be the all-time low of your embarrassing moments. He whispers in your ear that you’re okay and rubs your back with a soft hand, and you feel all the worse for it. How could he ever love someone this prone to disaster, this cringeworthy?

“You should go home,” you cry into the toilet bowl. “I’m disgusting.”

Wonwoo says your name in a mocking tone, pretending to be serious but in no way critical of you or the situation. He takes off his plaid button up and throws it in some random corner of your bathroom, free to hold you as close as possible as you continue dry-heaving. “You’re not disgusting.”

“Of course you’d say that, you’re you.”

He laughs again, tucking what hair he can from your face so you can lift your head off of the toilet. “And what’s that?”

You look at him with puffy, half-open eyes. “Perfect.”

He helps you up from the tile floor and moves you to your bedroom on your weak legs. He sheds off your overshirt as you kick off your denim jeans. Your mind rumbles with a whirlpool of thoughts as his brain ruminates on the word you used when comparing himself to you.

“I’m in no way perfect, kid,” he whispers. The nickname he’s used on you forever feels like a backhand, a copious amount of salt in a wound you know will never heal. He’ll always see you at a distance from him, his feelings leagues away from yours.

“Don’t call me that,” you cry into your pillow, resting your cheek deep into the material to muffle the quiet sobs in your throat. He can’t be serious, talking to you so tenderly when you’re falling apart.

“Hey, can you look at me?” You shake your head and settle deeper into the pile of comforters and throw pillows. Wonwoo suddenly feels his gut turn into a dozen knots. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, how to fix it, or what to say to make things better, and it kills him. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you’re too perfect to love someone like me. But I love you so much, and it fucking sucks,” you hiccup, the darkness of your bed making you believe he’s not there, this isn’t real, and it’s okay to release all the words in your heart into the dark. “And every time I see those damn red and pink hearts all over the place, I think of you and I want to die.”

The force of your confession almost knocks Wonwoo on his ass. At the very least, he settles onto the desk chair near your bed and hears your whimpers give way to light snores.

He runs his hands through your hair again and tucks the covers up to your chin. He holds himself back from pressing a kiss to your forehead, the one thing he’s always done when you’ve passed out countless times before in his presence, but never recalled the next morning. This time, though, he prays you’ll remember your drunken admission.

“I hope you meant everything you said,” he whispers before retreating to your couch to fall asleep to the sounds of the cityscape below.

You wake up to low jazz playing from your living room TV and the smell of sizzling eggs. Each limb aches from the heavy sleep you fell under last night. You quietly pad out of your room to find Wonwoo cooking what looks to be the perfect mix of breakfast and hangover food. A makeshift Bloody Mary sits on the counter next to him, waiting for you.

Wonwoo turns when he senses you behind him, and he grins. “Hey, you’re awake. I was worried you’d be passed out until the afternoon. I wouldn’t blame you, though.”

You blush a shade deeper, still sporting your tank top and clad in a pair of boy shorts. You forgot you had taken your pants off before slipping into bed the night prior, but it isn’t the first time Wonwoo’s seen you half-clothed. You drink half of the concoction and set it down, your headache throbbing a little less. “How bad was I last night?”

He smirks. “Bad enough to throw up another three times.”

You groan into the back of your hand and hitch yourself up on the counter across from Wonwoo, his focus still on the over-medium eggs in the pan. “I’m sorry you had to take care of me again.”

“I wanted to,” he says without looking up at you. “I always want to be here when you need me.”

“I know, I know, it’s your job to say that,” you joke.

He drops the metal spatula next to him on the stove, and you jump up at the sound. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say a word for a moment, and you’re unsure if he’s even breathing when you ask him if he’s okay. “So, you don’t remember then?” His question comes out almost like a statement, but the wavered edge of it proves he is concerned with whatever has slipped your mind.

“Woo, you’re freaking me out.”

He turns the stove to a low, simmering heat before facing you. His eyes look sad but expectant, waiting for the inevitable to come to you. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You tuck your hair behind your ear, and in that instant, you recall that last hour before you fell asleep. Wonwoo helping you into bed. Crying in your bed. And all the words that followed.

The memories bring tears to your eyes and your hands to your face. “Oh my god—”

Wonwoo takes your palms away and holds them to his mouth. “Stop running from me.”

“Don’t make me say it again, Woo, please.” Your bottom lip trembles. You fight every instinct to run from the kitchen and out of the apartment altogether, wanting to accept the continuous pain of hiding your feelings than the truth that this could be the end of the both of you as you know it, for better or worse.

“Fine, you don’t have to.” Wonwoo’s lips curl into that grin you’ve adored for almost a decade. “I’ll say what I need to first, then.”

He takes a deep breath and sets his jaw. “I’ve been in love with you since the minute you threw your ice-cream at that biker who almost clipped me in the foot on the way to school. Remember? I may have loved you long before that, but that’s the moment I realized.

“And I don’t want to lose you. I want to be more than just the guy you call your best friend. I want to be the only friend that matters, the friend that kisses you goodnight and tells you how beautiful you are because there’s no other way to describe you. I love you, too, kid, whether you realized it or not.”

A breathy yelp leaves your mouth before you kiss Wonwoo on the mouth. It’s a hard one, a clash of teeth and a bit of tongue, but you didn’t expect less from such an unexpected and perfect confession. Maybe this was the way you rode off into the sunset together. Sure, there was the smell of burning eggs instead of the sounds of a white stallion gallivanting off to the unforeseeable future, but it’s perfect. It’s yours.

Wonwoo shuts the burner off entirely before he takes you by the hand into your bedroom. When your bed is in full view, he kisses you long and slow. It’s nothing like the first kisses you shared a second ago, but it’s earth-shattering all the same.

You moan into his mouth when he presses a free hand to your breast, teasing the skin above your shirt until your nipple pebbles.

“Is this too fast?” He asks in a gruff voice. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable, I just—”

You press a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. “If you do not take my clothes off right now and fuck me, I will never speak to you again.”

Wonwoo smirks and kisses you once more, only stopping to pull your tank top over your head and rip your underwear off of your legs. His fingers delve between your folds, and you shudder in his hold but refuse to let him take his hand away.

“You like this,” he whispers, the statement thick with his lust.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you whimper. You gasp when two of his fingers curl inside of you, his thumb still nestled on top of your clit to swirl around with the pad. The amount of pleasure he’s already given you is indescribable, and he hasn’t even truly done much yet.

You whine when he takes his hand away, but it’s to discard his own clothes and sit at the edge of your bed. He beckons for you to sit on top of him, and he doesn’t think twice about swirling himself between your essence and lining the head of his dick with your entrance. His tip is so swollen and covered in pre-cum, there’s no problem sinking it inside of your heat.

You share a mutual curse of pleasure when he bottoms out, his pelvic bone meeting your skin. You stay like that for a moment. You’re so full and unable to move from the size of him filling every empty space inside of you, you think this has to be a dream. Last night has not given way to day yet, and now is just a conjuring of your cruel mind. 

You get lost in your thoughts for so long Wonwoo brings his hand to your face and traces his fingers over your cheek, staring at you lovingly. “Where’d you go?”

You smile shyly and kiss his nose. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“I guess I’ll just have to remind you it’s real.”

He takes your ass between his hands and spreads you out before thrusting up inside of you, making you gasp hard. He moves long and slow underneath you, almost taking his cock out of your pussy completely before delving back into you.

“I want to give you everything,” he pants. “All that I have—will have—is for you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whisper, meeting his hips with yours as you try to set your own pace, sinking down onto him with every thrust where your skin meets with loud smacks.

“I love you so much,” he says into your neck before biting down on your soft skin. You moan loudly and press yourself deeper and harder against him. His cock hits you at the perfect angle as you straddle him, and you feel the start of your climax deep in your stomach.

Seven years of missed opportunities. More than too many chances for days and nights like this spent together so intimately gone to the wind. It’s easy to be regretful for all the time that you’ve wasted without each other, but you realize it’s not wasted at all.

Every step, every thread of fate that tied you two together, brought you here. Whatever comes of today is just an extension of what has already existed in your hearts. So what more is there to ask for?

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he growls in your ear. His balls smack against your skin as he continues to slam into you. Tears spring in your eyes as he moves even harder, trying to take you both to your peaks together. “Where can I come, baby?”

“Inside of me. I want all of it, all of you. Please,” you beg. You bounce harder on top of him, circling your clit with your fingers to fall off the precipice with Wonwoo by your side.

“You want to feel all of me, yeah? So full of my cum it’s all you’ll think about?” He smirks and replaces the fingers on your clit with his own. “Maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you with how much cum I give you. Would you like that?”

You see stars behind your eyelids as you listen to the beautiful, dirty words on his lips. You nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in this way. It’s all you’ve thought about for years, truthfully.

“God, I’m coming,” you say into his neck, thighs quivering as the rest of your body goes slack from the pleasure. Wonwoo grunts into the shell of your ear as he orgasms himself, his seed spilling into you so deep you think there’s no way any remnant of him will slip out.

When he takes himself out of you, he swirls the mixture of both of your releases on his fingers before you take those fingers into your mouth, sucking them dry.

Wonwoo chuckles and kisses you deeply, the taste of the two of you on both of your tongues. “That’s one way to end Valentine’s weekend, don’t you think?”

You giggle and kiss him on both cheeks, too eager to see the rest of your future together. “You could say that.”

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @okiedokrie-main @brownbunnyb

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @/sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “THE LOVE ART CREATES”

୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! sweet! cute! and everything you need

୨ৎ summary: you’re an artist who has always loved art and how it makes the soul feel. seunghyun? the same way of course but you’re much more on the.. well, shyer side and it gets in the way of things when he’s always asking to see the art you’ve created. number one rule? never be shy around the art genius himself.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello hello!! so excited to take this request since it’s so adorable and sweet! thank you for requesting it and I hope you can enjoy it!! x

— ᧔•᧓ being able to sit in a room for hours upon hours wasn’t for everyone but you? it was most definitely for you. the art that you created whether it was a simple painting or drawing was so special to you and it’s been that way since you were a very small girl. having a gift is something a lot of people wish for and your gift was creating such beautiful art pieces to share with the world but.. in your case it wasn’t that at all. sharing your art wasn’t something you were familiar with. being an extremely shy girl wasn’t always ideal but it always happened that way for you and you didn’t push it.

— ᧔•᧓ seunghyun was the most supportive boyfriend you could ever ask for. he was gentle, sweet, kind, and never pushed you to show him the art you’ve created even if he so badly wanted to see it. he wanted you to be ready but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to steal a few glances here and there at what you’re doing. to him he thinks of it as cute and can’t get over it.

— ᧔•᧓ “can I just see a little bit of it? you don’t have to show me anything you’ve finished but maybe a little something that you’re working on?” he would ask while you stood there biting your lip trying to decide if you wanted to show him something not finished or not. it made you feel bad especially when he was so sweet about it all so when you slowly nodded your head he felt like he was on the moon! (literally!) his eyes grew big and he did everything he could to not embarrass himself from being so overly excited. too excited.

— ᧔•᧓ showing him the first piece you finished a few weeks ago was a bit difficult for you because of the low self esteem you felt while finishing it. was it your best? not at all but seunghyun thought the opposite. his long fingers sliding down the painting in a slow manner allowing himself to enjoy the art you created.

— ᧔•᧓ “this is breathtaking.. why didn’t you show me this sooner? I know you’re shy and all baby but, look at this! it’s beautiful. the colors you’ve chosen go so well together.” seunghyun wouldn’t be able to put the painting down. he woukd continuously praise it and make sure you know that it was such a good piece.

— ᧔•᧓ he would finally put it down to pull you into a tight hug wanting you to feel the warmth and love from him that you adored so much. “please continue showing me your art, hm? you do so well. I can’t believe you won’t try to sell it! I just know that you could become a little star.” his words always helped you through the darkest thoughts and feelings. “you’re my little star how’s that sound? my sweet little star.”

— ᧔•᧓ from then on you continued showing him the pieces you created but the shyness didn’t disappear unfortunately. each time it would take a bit of time to show him but he would wait patiently like the amazing boyfriend that he was. deep down seunghyun loved it when you got so shy to show him the piece. he would reach his hand up to grab the back of your head and pull you into his chest so you could hide from him.

— ᧔•᧓ “you keep acting this way and I’ll have to attack you with so many kisses. I know you’ll like that but I won’t be able to stop myself.” you’d giggle in his chest while he continued looking at the piece praising it and taking pictures of it so he could show anyone that asked about you and what you did for fun/a living.

[nonebinaryleftgender]

I am honestly lucky that my classmates are so cool about me being trans and using the mens bathroom. On the building we usually have all classes there's bathrooms in the main hall (which are always VERY busy), but there's also bathrooms at the end of the halls which is where I go because they are always empty, even if they are farther away.

During the last semester, once a week we had classes on another building that only had bathrooms on its 2 halls, which were always busy too. I would have gone to the other building where I knew to be safe, but the other buildings were far from that one, so I had no choice. I was so afraid of going that the first few times I asked a nearby classmate/friend to go with me, and even though men usually don't have the same bathroom culture as women, they were all very supportive and chill. After that, every time I said I had to go to the bathroom while in that building, there was always a classmate who offered to go with me or just went “well I need to go to!” just to be sure I felt safe.

And then there was one time I went over to another university with a couple of classmates, I didn't know how accepting it would be and I chickened out right before going in the mens bathroom, so my friend quite literally pushed me in. He knew I'd feel unsafe in either of them, but at least in the mens he'd be with me. Dude was thin as a stick, he would probably get beaten up with me if something happened, but he sure earned a lot more respect than I already had for him lol