#except now i am *way* less ashamed of my interests

[camellia-thea]

initially this post had some commentary about interests right now. and then it turned into a ramble about personal healing in the tags. so the interest post is going separately.

[thaenad]

Hey. I love your work so much on your other blog (and have even sent anons there) but since this one is more feedism-related than fat lib related I figured I’d send it here, I hope that’s okay.

Do you have any recommendations for people with this kink who are so deeply ashamed by it that they haven’t been able to tell anyone about it their entire lives? I’m alloace and never had a partner partially because the only sense of sexuality I have is this kink and I have always felt like that makes it almost impossible to truly connect with a partner without knowing 100% they’re into it beforehand. And yet, I have so much social anxiety that I hardly meet people period and given the shame surrounding this kink I kind of assume anyone who I’d really click with would never tell me they were also interested in this and wanted me to feed them unless we’re already in a relationship. I can’t even be open and honest with friends about it because I’m terrified of their judgement especially because I AM so pro-fat lib and have been so vocally around them and I dunno. U saw all those anons u got lol.

I dunno I’ve just resigned myself to never having that kind of intimacy but it’s hard sometimes when I know deep down that it’s what I want. Do you have any recommendations for what I can do to start being more open and honest about my sexuality and hopefully feel a lot less ashamed? (For the record I am very sex-positive, for everyone but me if that makes sense. Lmao.)

Hey there anon, it's absolutely okay! I'd love to have more of these conversations with fellow feedists on this blog, especially since it's a much safer space for all of us.

Oof. I just wanna reach through the screen and give you a great big hug. I can completely relate to what you're going through right now (also as an alloace). I struggled with the exact same fears before coming out to anyone 5-ish years ago. It's so hard to feel like you have to hide or deny such a big part of who you are, and I hope you're doing okay. Just sending me this ask is a great step towards self acceptance, because connecting with other people who get it can help so much. If you need to talk, my inbox and dms are always open. ❤️

I will say the most monumental step for me was talking about it out loud with someone. Although the shame may cause paranoia, I promise that you can tell your best friend and they will still love you. Yes, the backlash from fat libbers on the internet is scary, but they don't know us, we're just a concept to them. The people who know you already know that you are not a predator. The people who know you know your intentions are good, they love you, and they want to support you. If they listen to you with compassion when you express yourself other times, they will listen with compassion when you talk about this.

The fact that you are passionate about fat liberation means you have already crossed the biggest obstacle when it comes to self acceptance for feedists: knowing that there is nothing wrong with fatness. Most people take their entire lives to discover that fact (or never do), and you are already there. And from what it sounds like, you are surrounding yourself with fat positive friends. That's huge. Take a minute to celebrate yourself for that.

If you decide to open up about being a feedist to anyone, be selective. Fat positive people are safer because they already understand the basics. They already know you're passionate about fat lib, being a feedist won't negate that, it will make sense. Most people actually have no idea what feedism is, so you might have the chance to explain it for the first time in a way that is positive, and that can be incredibly validating and empowering.

The person you share this with will know how hard it is for you. The first time I opened up to my best friend about it, I wept on her shoulder. Nothing changed between us except I felt seen and supported, and now she sends me posts with food and teases me about fat guys, and we laugh about it, like she would with any friend. It's made me feel so much more close to normal.

If that feels impossible right now, that's okay. Keep talking to feedists online, keep seeking community. I had to make friendships with feedists years before I could even imagine telling my own friends. The more normal you feel, the less scarier it gets.

It can be really, really hard. I ended up seeking therapy because I was struggling so much with shame. I knew I needed it, but for years I put it off because I didn't know if I could trust a therapist, I thought they might diagnose me with a sexual disorder and try to give me conversion therapy! Needless to say, that was the shame talking. Fear can cause our minds to heighten things out of proportion. It also took years of conversations out loud with a friend or two to finally be able to talk about it in a therapy setting. This shit takes time. After I discovered fat liberation, flung myself into the research and dissolved some of my own fatphobia (the BIGGEST step of all!) I ended up searching for a fat-positive, kink-conscious therapist, and guess what? They exist! They are 100% sex positive, understand the principle of bodily autonomy and that health does not determine a person's worth, and will remind you of those things over and over. I still see my therapist, they've always been in my corner cheering me on. They've helped me through the shame and fear, and they've helped me navigate my sexual & romantic relationships as a feedist. It's one of the best decisions I have ever made for myself.

Here's a post I made on how to find feedist-friendly therapists.

"I have always felt like that makes it almost impossible to truly connect with a partner without knowing 100% they’re into it beforehand."

I feel the exact same way. It was so isolating and horrifying before I realized that I don't have to date non-feedists. I know this is something that will likely take a LOT of healing first, but I want to share my experience just so that you can see what a potential future looks like. First I tried dating on feabie, got into my first relationship, but it ended very badly for me. Again, it took a long time, but eventually, once I knew my self worth, knew that there are lots of people out there who will be into what I'm into, and could spot red flags, I was able to disclose my preference for feedism on regular dating apps. I didn't care what strangers thought. Some people asked me what it was all about, politely expressed that it wasn't for them, and we parted ways. It is such a relief to have potential partners know I'm a feedist up front. I eventually met my current partner and the love of my life on Hinge. I had feedism in my profile and he sent me a message saying, "hey! I'm into that too." If a feedist relationship is something you feel like you can't live without, I want you to know that it's possible for you. If you tell people what you're looking for, they will come. You'd be so, so suprised. But it takes a while to get there. The fact that you want it for yourself is huge, and I am so proud of you for reaching out for support.

Take it from someone who lied awake every night in agony, crying and worrying and wishing I just had someone out there to tell me that it was going to be okay.

Please know this, dear heart:

It's going to be okay. ❤️

[riacte]

Part of the weirdness about m/f ships feels like this kind of performativity from insecure queer teens? At least I think so based on my own experiences. I've always been a big multishipper who likes f/f m/m m/f and any other kind of ship equally but there was awhile where I felt kinda ashamed if I liked a m/f ship "too much" bc I felt like I wasn't gay enough. Like I wasn't queer enough if I didn't ship gay ships enough. Even now (tho I've gotten better) I still feel this obligation to keep the ratios of ship fics I read "even" so I can prove I'm still a good queer. I think in my case it's probably part of my internalized biphobia (since I feel a similar obligation to make I prove I have attraction to all genders and am really bi "enough" in my actual daily life) and it's a similar feeling of stress at having to constantly police your own identity/attraction/interests.

It's unfortunate that this kind of insecurity in how queer we are seems so common in queer people especialky those of us who are young one w/out much actual dating experience (who make a large part of this fandom. This sort of "who even ships m/f lol gay ships only" I've seen others in this fandom doing feels very much like a way of coping with that insecurity, by proving you're gay enough through your ships. I'm sure there are plenty of people who simply are just not interested in m/f but I'm sure there are also others like me, trying to prove we're queer enough by carefully curating our fandom interests.

My thoughts on m/f ships is that the end of the day, shipping is just shipping. It doesn't actually necessarily say much about your sexuality or what you actually want in a relationship and certainly doesn't mean you're less queer.

(Obviously there are other factors too in the weird attitude ppl in the mcyt fandom have about m/f ships, but this is one that has affected me a lot and I've never seen anyone else talk about it so I wanted to bring it up. Idk I hope I made sense)

Thanks for the ask! It was really nice seeing this as a bi person who heavily mains m/f and sometimes feels bad for it (I also main friendships but I mained m/f reallllly hard pre 2020 aka. before this fandom).

Yeah, I feel like it could also be like "we see so much m/f in real life so we should go hard on the other options to even it out". This fandom specifically there's been problems of irl truthing in comments so I completely understand why people shy from it, but it's 2024, we're quite developed in the character vs cc divide, shipping m/f isn't the end of the world.

I do feel guilt over maining m/f (then liking f/f and m/m, in that order, yes Treebark is the exception and my first m/m that I really got into), like for a looong time I was pretty sure it was just terrible heteronormativity that I needed to kill, but now I feel like it's a mix of heteronormativity (which I fight like daily lmfao) and just. being attracted to men and women both. Because when I write m/f, I can write about being attracted to women and men all in one neat package. And it feels "equal" to me. I do tend to prefer pieces of media with an equal gender ratio, or at least the leads are (eg. Miraculous Ladybug (my ex fandom lmao), Kagerou Project (ex fandom, stares into the distance), Spy x Family, Assassination Classroom) so I can love male and female characters. When reading fics, I like reading about loving a man from a woman's pov and loving a woman from a man's pov. Even in HC with its highly uneven gender ratio, this manifests in the corner I've tucked myself into (False, Ren, Stress, Iskall, etc). Although I do also like media with mostly female characters - Love Live (another ex fandom lol), Precure, Madoka Magica, Nikkiverse - and I do read stuff, I just don't really write for them because I wanna write about girls AND guys. Shippy or not. And this leads me to main m/f a lot. That's my personal taste.

Side note: as a kid, I was frustrated by media aimed at boys which had like a whole cast of boys and one token (cardboard cutout) girl AND media aimed at girls which had a whole cast of girls and almost no boys. 9yo me in co-ed school was like "well this doesn't feel very pro gender equality, I want books with the same amount of boys AND girls :((((( oh wait. I can just write it." And.... it ended up defining what I write now? Even outside of shipping, I like m+f friendships a lot. Because I still get to write about a guy and a girl even if they don't kiss or whatever. Idk. Am I cursed with an extreme case of heteronormativity and / or internalised homophobia or am I bisexual. Maybe both. Idk.

Maybe I do have boring stupid milquetoast hetero taste whatever but I'm having a good time in my fandoms and my ships / dynamics. I like writing about my guys and girls and I'll keep on doing it. And I am queer. I am bisexual. This doesn't change.

Anyways watching HTTYD at a young age changed me. Hiccstrid you will always be my origin story <3

Thanks for the ask again! We don't have to prove our queerness because we are queer. Everyone has different tastes. And m/f does get a bad reputation in queer spaces because oftentimes it's done badly and ofc the enemy.... heteronormativity [evil].

Final note re sibling fanon: if you have to turn friends into siblings just to show you're not shipping, you are coming back to heteronormativity. Why can't a (straight) man and a (straight) woman be friends only. What assumptions are you making?

[lpsotd]

Another anon who read the tags on your last post here! I've felt the need to write something myself since your situation feels so similar to mine when I was younger and maybe my experiences will help you in some way. Feel free to not respond to this if it's uncomfortable, it's totally okay! :)

I also didn't have a supportive family when it came to my interests, still kind of don't. I'm 22 (soon to be 23) and my family members are still looking at me funny regarding my hobbies, just like they did when I was 14-15. It was weird for them to see a child… liking toys and shows made for kids I guess?? They've also said that I was mature for my age, but let me tell you this is INCREDIBLY coercive. ''Since we've called you mature, you wouldn't want to betray us and do something childish now, would you?'' - guys. Just because YOU'VE called me mature doesn't mean that it's true. Maybe I am mature but EMOTIONALLY or got good grades at school. But it doesn't necessarily mean that I will abandon anything that brings me comfort and joy for the sake of a byname that won't mean anything to me. Ever. I think that being mature also means accepting what is dear to you and not being ashamed of that. Being mature is being responsible for your own well being - which you do by enjoying your hobbies! By surrounding yourself with things that will make you get through life a bit easier. Throwing everything out, or denying ever liking said thing is the childish thing to me here.

It's good to read that you want to embrace who you are! After all - we only have one life to live. Why waste it on pleasing everyone around instead of ourselves? ESPECIALLY if it's a hobby that does NO HARM to anyone (well maybe except your wallet). Don't ever let go of what you love, unless YOU decide it's time to move on. I still keep my LPS collection after all those years, after being told countless of times to ''sell them, because you will save some good money'' or just to give them away. What if (stay with me here) I WILL decide what to do with MY property?

And regarding those people who've belittled you for your interests - I am still recovering from the same thing that happened almost a decade ago at school. But I've learned that not everyone behaves like those mean bullies - maybe some people are genuinely interested in what I have to say? Maybe we can bond over this? Maybe I can get a new friend who will accept my ''weird'' hobbies? And thanks to that mindset I've tried opening to more and more people, only to find out that those bullies were the MINORITY and usually people are glad to hear they're not alone in their hobbies or pleasant memories. It made me feel so much less anxious about myself, I can't recommend trying to open up enough!! Sorry if this ask got long, I had plenty of thoughts in my brain it seems, haha. Anyway, OP you're not alone in your struggles and if you have any worries feel free to say so! Stay awesome <3

~lots of love from anon

i think it's kinda insane that adults expect children to immediately grow out of the things they like in favor of more "mature" interests and media. like, why can't that 13 year old watch my little pony? would you prefer it if they were watching that or something like euphoria? 😭 why is it so bad and weird when children are acting like children and want to engage with media that was literally created for them. that's something i don't think i'll ever understand

i'm happy to now be surrounded by people who care about me and indulge in my interests, and i hope you are able to have that too anon !!

[greywoe]

some thoughts on that first episode bc i might as well

- that first scene in the north did not make me very happy… maybe it’s just me who likes negotiations but i was looking forward to Jace’s World Tour of North/Eastern Westeros and his talks and bargains with the different houses (especially lady jeyne! i guess i can understand why they cut it out but i think when it comes to her there’s material to build an interesting character from, but whatever. another arryn L i guess :(), but what did we get but one (1) scene at the wall for some reason. i mean i like the night’s watch as much as the next person but this just felt like straight up GoT fanservice… like what does the threat beyond the wall have to do with this conflict? they could at least have given us some parley but there was barely anything of that either. cregan stark’s going to be important later so i thought they’d do more to establish him as a character now. but literally the next scene we see jace in he’s back at dragonstone….. ok (tho i guess they could return to the north later? idk we’ll see) (also, i care less for the sara snow subplot but i was sure they would do something with it since they love to go with the juicy stuff like forbidden love and whatnot)

- on that note i expect they’re going the singers’ route with erryk and arryk which i don’t really care for (they need to make me care more for those characters first) but it makes sense

- i’m ashamed of the fact that the alyn reveal made me go “ahh” aloud and my mum (who hasn’t read f&b) went “what???” and i just vaguely waved it off because it’s so annoying when people do that and i try not to but… i was surprised they introduced him so early

- aegon ii keeps being the most entertaining character on the show and he was the highlight to me. thank you for bringing a tinge of comedy. i’d say keep it up, but… well

- this is old discourse but i don’t have much of a problem with them showing alicent being groomed and manipulated in the show which probably makes her seem more sympathetic to viewers (and i can’t help but fall for every instance the lingering and complex feelings between her and rhaenyra that still clearly affect her come up) but now i’d like to see her being more active. i liked her confronting otto but (so far) for the most part she seemed a bit uninvolved and inactive (except for the sex scenes with criston… -_- which i guess are intended to bite them in the ass later which is why it’s continuously brought up, but so far i do not care for it). i just want to see her contributing more of her own i guess. but there’s plenty of time for that in the upcoming episodes, especially now after the death of another child 😔

- i sure hope we get to see more of baela and rhaena. this was only the first episode, i will have hope in my heart

- helaena’s line about being scared of the rats felt like clever foreshadowing when i heard it, except that the blood & cheese thing happened just a few scenes later……. suddenly it didn’t feel so clever anymore, nobody will have forgotten it at that point (the best foreshadowing imo is stuff that you maybe don’t notice at first and only catch on your rewatch)

- and about that, as relieved as i am about the violence being toned down, reading the book the whole “damning one child to die but the other one is slain, so now you and your child have to live with the fact that you named him to be killed” business was very impactful so i’m a bit disappointed nonetheless. for a show that so clearly opts for emotional impact, i mean… though i suppose cutting a kid or two out is understandable. but the way they made a whole deal about not knowing the sex of the twins (and the assassins being surprisingly gentlemanly about it lol) made me wonder if they mean to do a big plot twist where helaena was lying about it and actually rescued jaehaerys, but also that (unnecessarily) changes some things and what would be the point of that. 🤔 i did really like helaena’s acting during the scene though, opting for pure shock and dissociation rather than making it a dramatic tearfest. i like helaena as a character too, from what little we have seen of her anyway, and i wish she’d had more moments previously in the show so that we as viewers would be even more emotionally connected to her, but she gets pretty sidelined in comparison to her brothers. we don’t get to know much about her in the book so i feel like that’s what the show is for! expanding upon the book!

[desceros]

So I'm this anon... (And this is gonna be long and a little sappy because it's like 4:40am-ish as I'm writing this, I'm so sorry, I wouldn't have the confidence otherwise):

"I gotta know, gotta ask- HOW do you write the way that you do?? How does one get to that point? I've been wanting to write fanfics for awhile now, but I don't know where to start, and just... do you have any advice at all for beginners? Because you're like... really good at what you do!!"

-Except I finally made a blog to keep my interests anonymous, and while I feel scared still (I am like... an overly ashamed person over interests and such), I want to get over it.

Just wanted to say that like... I had already liked your writing before, but I had been trying to stay away from Symphony at least until there was more written... I caved and read it all today because of the asks you've been getting, finishing up just like thirty minutes ago at 4:30am because restless nights. And I just wanna say that like... the feelings I'm having right now are certified crazy. I feel empty but like... so, so full all at once?? I spent the last few chapters of reading crying (So much so that I had to stop a few times just to see), only to realize that I was picturing everything in my head that I was reading. Vividly, or as much so as I can, with my imagination being more... vibes than anything, anymore. Like, settings and everything are easy. Feelings like rain and stuff too. But I haven't been able to picture things this vividly, haven't been able to focus so intently on reading and just reading... since early high school at the least?? Well over five years ago. It's a feeling that I've craved desperately, to sink into a different world and just exist there... and it's not the same that it used to be, but it made me cry all the same, to have even a fraction of that feeling back.

And I mean, a lot can be said about me as a person that a fucking tmnt fanfic (More like a few tmnt fanfics) gets me back into a headspace that I've been chasing for literal, actual years, but I think it's more an indicator of the intensity and thought behind your writing than anything. It feels silly, but like... reading what you write feels like a gift to me, just for the fact that I can get even a slight bit of the magic of reading back, something I have truly, wholly missed for so long. Even more so because I want to write again, to finally, actually write- Which... I mean it's the internet and I'm not gonna trauma dump, just... It's important for me to say, important to me that I specify. I've lost these feelings, the ability to focus on reading, and been unable to write, among other things, due to a lot of trauma. And the fact that I'm getting this back almost solely because of you, it means so much to me, and it wouldn't feel right not to say it.

As silly and cheesy and sappy as it feels... just... genuinely thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart, for being so unafraid to be yourself and do what you do, pouring so much time and thought into the things you enjoy. It really, truly inspires others to do the same, and it inspires me to be less shameful, less apologetic about myself and my interests, and more brave. I'm gonna wrap this up before I write you a fucking novel though (Especially because it's past 5am as I'm wrapping this up, and I'm not doing so well- definitely didn't spend 30 minutes on this...), just like... I don't know. I had to get this out of my system. You're great, super, super great. I'm afraid I haven't articulated my thoughts well enough, but if I mull them over forever, I'll get too scared to send this. And if I start writing again, when I start writing again because damn it I will, I want you to know it's almost singlehandedly thanks to you, as well as the rest of the lovely tmnt fandom.

(Again I'm so, so sorry for the length and sappiness omg I swear I have a sense of shame and will be embarrassed after adequate rest... Gonna go hide in my hole now)

puts my hands on your shoulders. looks you in the eyes. i am. So Proud Of You.

first. let me say that i am really. just insanely aware that admitting that youve been in a dark place and moving out of it is a difficult, difficult thing to talk about. it’s a difficult place to be. it’s like. an advanced performance of humanity in a way. reaching into your own brain and scooping out the parts that don’t make you happy anymore. it’s so. so hard. important. valuable. life-changing. but hard.

and i’m proud of you for doing it. i’m?? so amazingly touched??? to know that i had any hand in that. holy shit. sick. but my part in this is small, even if it doesn’t feel that way to you right now. you’re the one doing all the hard, difficult work. and i’m rooting for you!!!

i know there’s a lot of stigma against ‘trauma dumping’ and for good reason. but i also think it’s important to be able to open yourself up and discuss the vulnerabilities you feel. that’s how humans are meant to heal our souls. with one another, hand in hand. i hope sending this made you feel better. i hope reading my response will make you feel better. i hope you are able to find that place of healing. i’ve been there myself and it’s—it’s nice. being able to feel things again.

be unashamed. be unafraid. let your heart grasp the things that bring you joy. write the things that make you happy. chase your light and bottle it for the days when things feel dark again.

thank you so much for such a lovely ask. it really made my day and brought me so much joy and happiness. may that now turn upon you threefold 🌸

[jessicafurseth]

Reading List, First Summer Flush edition.

"I need to be alone for certain periods of time or I violate my own rhythm." - Lee Krasner

Image: @80svintagepulps

*

"Our online spaces are not ecosystems, though tech firms love that word. They’re plantations; highly concentrated and controlled environments, closer kin to the industrial farming of the cattle feedlot or battery chicken farms that madden the creatures trapped within. We all know this. We see it each time we reach for our phones. But what most people have missed is how this concentration reaches deep into the internet’s infrastructure — the pipes and protocols, cables and networks, search engines and browsers. These structures determine how we build and use the internet, now and in the future." We Need To Rewild The Internet [Maria Farrell, Robin Berjon, Noema]

"I [now] see what I wanted the therapist to tell me. I wanted permission. I wanted to be told I could stop trying. I wanted her to tell me I had done everything I could — that we had indeed put in the work and shouldn’t feel ashamed for throwing in the towel." [Scaachi Koul, The Cut]

The new science of death [Alex Blasdel, The Guardian]

In praise of the dumbphone revolution [Kyle Chayka, The New Yorker]

“Tech is not supposed to be a master tool to colonize every aspect of our being. We need to reevaluate how it serves us.” The New Luddites are taking on AI [Brian Merchant, The Atlantic]

"Brand smells" and the people that make them [Aimee Levitt, The Guardian]

It's almost impossible to find actually interesting writing about polyamory - this is a rare exception [Brandy Jensen, The Yale Review]

"You probably have less effect on your kids than you think, with one major exception: Your love will make them happy." [Arthur Brooks, The Atlantic]

101 ways to make and maintain friendships [Madeleine Dore]

"Is what’s wrong with me what’s wrong with everyone else?" My anxiety[Lauren Oyler, The New Yorker]

"In my mind, dropping a ball or doing less invited intolerable risk. I worried that if I said no to a project, no one would ever want to work with me again, or if I stopped, I’d never be able to start again. But as OCD took up more and more of me, these actions and how I rationalized them became less and less clear, like if I didn’t read something 50 times, I’d be punished somehow, by something terrible happening in another area of my life. But because these behaviors came across as productive, pressure to just keep going mounted. Maybe this is just how ambition felt, I thought to myself. Maybe overworking is what I was good at, and what I was supposed to do." Could I Still Be Ambitious Without My OCD? [Rainesford Stauffer, The Cut]

"I am rattling my cage, grasping at the bars of my own constraints - my own slow motion - and trying to break my way out. There is so, so much to do in this life, so many ideas, so many ways I could help. I feel like I do so little. I am so slow. I get slower with age. My capacity does not match my desire." The Roaring [Katherine May]

Pie chart for bodies [@sophielucidojohnson on Instagram]

Pond life on Hampstead Heath in 1963 [The Guardian]

[funkymbtifiction]

so i was 110% sure i’m a 5w6 … but under stress i never disintegrated to 7 and i don’t really think i integrate to 8… but i always dismissed that and said i’m sure i’m a five .. but lately, things have been getting a bit better and i’ve been going through some self discovery and stuff and i feel so much better overall, and lately i’ve been showing A LOT more traits of 6 integrating to a 9… “stability, my own peace, my own happiness, and just having things going a well and the same as they always have been” is really all that’s on my mind lately.. but at the same time i still self isolate a lot, and indulge in tons of research on many topics and i’m always studying and reading and just expanding my brain’s library overall because i always enjoy learning and hoarding information… but to be fair, both sides are playing out lately, i’m reading and doing more research about things that interest ME instead of doing it for school or to look good… i hope this makes sense, but how can i tell if i’m a 5w6 or a 6w5?

Some of this just means you are intellectually curious. I indulge in tons of research on many topics as well and am constantly learning about absolutely everything -- and I am a 6w7. The difference is my 7 wing covers a wide breadth of topics (I know a lot about a lot of things) where 5s/5 wings tend to be more myopic and dig into one or two deep, intense areas of interest (and become an expert on that). There was a joke posted to a group I'm in awhile back -- a video clip from The Birds when Tippi Hedron's character goes into a post office to ask for directions, and there's a woman at the desk talking in-depth about varieties of birds -- the joke was "spot the 5!" The implication being that of course the 5 would know all about birds. That's her topic of interest and her obsession, in the same way some 5s know all about the Enneagram, study and read books about it, run out of resources to read, and realize they are the expert now. (And "ought to write something about it," but may procrastinate.)

All of what you said would work very nicely with 6w5. They do have that withdrawn wing, after all. Have you read my lengthy 5w6 and 6w5 descriptions? (They are on the 5 and 6 pages on FunkyMBTI.) Have you considered whether you are super-ego or withdrawn? Do you move toward people (as you just did with me, asking for help) or does that not occur to you most of the time? One 5 I know of said it constantly surprises them when others ask for help, because it doesn't occur to them to do that -- they don't assume people would want to help them. It fits the old adage that everyone thinks everyone else is like them -- if you are a 6 who would automatically provide help to others when asked, it stands to reason you will assume others are willing to do the same for you. If you are a 5 who tends to horde information for yourself and it doesn't naturally occur to you to share it except when asked, you might assume others have no interest in sharing or will not respond to your inquiry.

Fundamentally, 6s still face self-doubt, as attachment types, when others challenge their thinking or process or conclusion -- they may not show it, but if 'ashamed' in this way, they doubt, and rethink, and re-examine the data, and try to find more solid footing underneath their feet. Their line to 3 makes them aware of and concerned with how they are coming across. A 5 has lines to two assertive numbers, so there's a lot less self-doubt, and more "I'm right, you're wrong." They are more firmly convinced their conclusions are correct than a 6, and less emotionally attached to what others think about them. They are also way more private and do not complain as much as a 6, who seeks some amount of external validation.

[the-acid-pear]

Y'know I do wonder what it says about me how I went from venting frustrations by having X being X to putting L.L. on a blender. I mean undeniably part of it is tied to my ever growing anxiety, hell, you'd argue there's parallels to be drawn between current L.L. treatment and Juan's when I was in highschool (there's so much that I daydreamed about yet never became canon but that guy christ my poor guy 😭) and y'all know how I was in highschool aka miserable and also very scared of real things (had to walk on eggshells always) but also non real things (I was tripping balls and a man with corpse paint is hiding behind my bathroom curtain ready to kill me‼️ among other things) but that still doesn't quite explain what prompted X to be made. What was I going thru that was so exclusive to that moment it didn't happen before or after? Bc X while eventually getting the blender treatment too (that's just my ocd tbf that I understand easily I'm a guilty guilty man and I need to fuel my own guiltiness by doing more bad tm things) he's usually the one pushing others in it. Hell the sheer fact he exists and the reason why he's called X is bc I didn't want to use L.L. for the story I originally wrote of him - just had to save this as a draft could you imagine I forget I hit post limit and lose this entire thing? - and named him X as a sort of place holder. He also is EXCLUSIVE referred as X there too to give him pronouns was too personal (I still use x/xs for him occasionally but way less). And it's not like L.L. doesn't have a few crimes under their belt they've pushed people in blenders too they've had mayor arcs about this in fact even all the way back to Japan their very first place this was present and that was a symptom of Thing in fact when L.L. spoke there they were referencing them who was violent and proud but L.L. was Ashamed of this violence and yes this is present with X too but where on earth did this overwhelming urge to enact it came from? Because I Am a violent man that I won't deny lately especially the urges to break bones and throw shit are overwhelming but not as much as when I walked down the streets daydreaming of every possible way I'd have to kill someone with the coldness of someone who is expecting this to happen (while not past the age of 16 and younger). Though I suppose Sheina WAS a vehicle for this too just like X let's not forget she did torture 4 ppl for a long while and that scene was written twice no less.

I guess there was always a side of... A taste for creative violence in me as far as I have memory and Sheina and X are symptoms of this even L.L. too but I guess I just have burnout? LMAO yeah maybe it's as simple as that. I did know a lot of me spiraling is a need to convince myself it's bad enough to allow myself to feel this. Maybe this whole thing is as simple as . Got distracted thinking of other things remember there was a Point to X character development that I was supposed to change? Which is a thing in universe too bc i never changed and neither did him he just turned it down? And it's now nothing but just another thing that happens that people don't question because X learnt to behave? Worth saying too X was a bit of a show off like when he had to stop originally was his own fault for literally telling L.L. and Can about it which directly affected them both. It really is all about doing bad things only to experience consequences except X wasn't guilty ORIGINALLY. Which is funnier than it's interesting. Although in his base story you can see him slowly get softer and softer.

I'm losing track but I feel they're both a form of downward spiral. But with X there was a whole Climax. There's never that with L.L. . X was an attempt to take control in a time where I had none while L.L. is just a cry for help and portrait of the absurdity of it all. It's also an escape from control itself too, you'd say. Perhaps represents my reality in that sense. It's that paralyzing uncertainty of isolation in dependency. It also it's a legit reflection of me Forgetting I can take control of situations after all until now only Once in modern time has L.L. done so. (They killed a guy. They mangled the shit out of him. They came to work shaking covered in blood. But irl realizing yes that is an option there is a way out was such a great relief.) But there's also the Consequences and the rammys which tie back to what I said before about the paralyzing nature.

And thing which is funnier than everything else is: fuckin what will happen to L.L., huh? Like not only bc I'm writing the story but even in universe. They've killed like 4 people (2 relatives 2 strangers, maybe even more I forgot about too) they don't even exist legally they love going to prison. Nothing is more dangerous to them than their own lack of self confidence.

I seriously don't know where this overwhelming upsetness and... Lack of confidence yeah animal fear and all came from. They were always here but when did they overpower else? Where did this weakness and I mean that in the most literal sense of it too weak like an overworked muscle.

Got distracted again but I guess it's similar to X too like this seeking of a climax of this big turning point except not at all there was that L.L. literally tried to kill themselves and it was a remarkable deal but then it became standard bc Yeah.

Maybe it's like AJJ said and I deserve displeasure and I really want to cry and I think you should spit on my face because I am a werewolf.

I think that's the best I can do for a conclusion idk what I'm saying anymore spent a whole hour or so typing this.

Though it's worth saying I did start thinking of this bc the X gene if you will the Xeske nature never left me it's just buried deeper.

I feel the issue is I keep trying to reach for a happy ending I keep walking down nails waiting for something good to be on the other side but I have no idea what it looks like.

Siiigh alright I'm done typing now it's 1 am ok. Sad conclusion. Though it's not like X had any sort of happy ending already stablished my man is still doing the same. But he did meet other things. He did manage to find some peace after trying and trying again. I guess L.L. is just experiencing the hopelessness I am. I mean the face ripping off thing that was just a real mental breakdown. Arc words too nothing ever changes when they peaked from under their arms and showed what was a single eye and goopy messy blood.

So I guess it's as simple as L.L. gets blended because I don't have the strength for malice I just want thing to get better but can't find a way out. X was for digging a tunnel L.L. is for failing the climbing class.

[raincoveredeyes]

honestly why do spiders always come to me

honestly I'm so upset with myself for always waking up late. it makes me feel really lazy. everyone around me right is so productive and here I am being a lazy person, unmotivated to even eat or move from my bed to my couch. and then if I do move to my couch I just remain there and do nothing. my couch just becomes my second bed. just on my phone wasting time. im not even having fun to be honest. there's nit much on social media that interest me these days. why can't I just bring my self to watch something and crochet at the same time instead. like even if im watching tv its still productive time for me as im crocheting and make something that I really want. maybe its because I don't really have anything I want to watch except for spider-man across the spider verse. honestly when is that movie coming out. like I want to stream it already. hate that it won't even tell me when its out. all I can see for now is that I preordered it. like I don't care about that. give me a date.

either way talking about crochet. yes sent me some snaps but I cant bring myself to watch them. I feel like she tells me in her later video what yarn she's okay with and what not but the videos that I stopped at I feel like is the topic that I feel very nervous to hear about. im worried about what her opinion of me is going to be. im very ashamed of what I confessed to her, so the idea that she reacts negatively to the news makes me sick to my stomach. that why I keep postponing her snaps. also I said I was going to make bucket hats for two people but I don't even have the money to buy the yarn... I hate not having money. so because I don't have the yarn I can't start on that project. I was thinking of making some extra cash by selling som extra clothes and photo cards through vinted. im just too lazy to set out the clothes and post the listing on the app. but I should do it as it could bring some extra cash even if it a small amount. it could buy my groceries so I don't starve.

honestly I didn't do much today. I was supposed to study for meeting but I feel asleep. I woke up to tash watching the live action cinderella. I woke up during the part where she was just about to dance with the prince at the ball. I was looking at her dress and I really like it. I was seeing how the did the neckline and how they lined it with butterflies and how it was puffy around her breast but it was also puffy for the sleeves. I thought it looked cute. reminded me a lot of the 1950's cinderella. I do wish they made her dress silver though... like the silhouette of the dress wouldn't even make it even slightly look bridal so they could have easily made it silver. but they made it blue. i liked her stockings. they're were this like grey blue color that was sparkly. I was looking at her glass slipers and I don't really care for them either but I also don't hate them. idk I don't know how I would have thought they could have made it better. maybe if the did like less edges to the shoes?? idk but then I also feel like that would just look bad or plain and boring. I think out of everything, the thing that I disliked the least of the ballroom outfit was her hair. it was too much for me. because her hair was down and curled I feel like it looked cluttered where her hair fell on her neckline. also since her hair was down they had to secure her hair with so much hairspray that when she was dating with the prince and he was spinning her it looked so stupid. like her hair was spinning (whipping?? I can't think what the word is) the ends looked pretty but the top half was so stiff. it look so bad in my opinion. like they could've easily done that with either just having the hair up or not hairspring a whole can on her hair. I don't just my opinion.

going back to meeting, I had to get ready for it and it took forever to comb through my wig. since I as too lazy to put it away I just through it on the ground and its been laying on my floor since Sunday. I guess cut I kept moving it and what not, it got really tangled. I think it took me a whole 30-40 minutes just to untangles my wig. I learned my lesson. im never going to do that again. im going to either put my wig again or just set in where its not on a flat surface. also I really need to brush it when im done with it but im honestly to lazy for that at times. either way at meeting it was going well but I was a bit restless. towards the end of the meeting I saw that a sister was telling me something but I couldn't hear what she was saying. when I finally understood what she said I looked down at my feet like she said and I saw a spider right between my feet. right when I saw it I panicked and just jumped up and went to the corridor. it wasn't until I was there did I start crying. honestly it was so embarrassing because I feel like when I got up I also held my skirt up, so if it wasn't for my boxer shorts, everyone sitting behind us could've seen my underwear. after I started crying I also was laughing because I actually found the way that I reacted, jumping out of my seat and hoping to the corridor, funny but at the same time so embarrassing. so I was just crying and laughing at the same time. when tash came up tp me she just kept laughing at me. she told me that I reminded her of tom and jerry. she also told me that after I jump out of my seat the spider looked so confused and scared that it was just panicking and then she killed it. after meeting everyone who was sitting behind me asked me what happened. it was just toni that understood what happened after he saw that tash killed the spider, or the motion mas bien. they were telling me that they thought I was dancing or doing something similar. the sister who pointed out the spider to me came up and apologised to me, as she didn't know know I have arachnophobia.

either after meeting I got to eat a burger and fries. I originally got a large to share the fries with tash but she went with some friends to eat dinner instead so I got to eat a large fries :) also I got the meal for free so that was nice. went to my father afterwards and got to see tuffsi for a while. she cute. I love her. she was annoyed with me thought because when I went to pet her she just walked away :/ but its okay. I got to respect her limits. I also got to eat panna cotta with my father and his wife. it was yummy. she served the panna cotta with peach and cherries.

honestly that was it for my uneventful day (except for that dumb spider (T^T) im going to end it here. since it is getting late and I have nothing more to add. I think im just going to watch an episode of familiar wife while crocheting while im waiting for sam to call me.

bye

*ೃ༄ blue ˚◞♡ ⃗

[spectaculardistractions]

To José Rubia Barcia Mexico City, 15 May 1947 Dear friend and subordinate, Mr Barcia, As the mountain won’t come to me, etc… You cannot deny that I, this time, am the one showing an interest in maintaining our friendship, the proof of this being the act of writing this letter. But seriously, I’m concerned I’ve not heard from you or about whether your migratory affairs and those more pertinent to your daily bread are resolved or not. Please write to me at once with a truthful account of your life. For my part, I will then update you on my life and work in this republic because I know you will be interested. I should let you know first of all, that I’m delighted to be living in Mexico. For now, I can breathe freely, or at least so it seems when I compare this lifestyle to elsewhere in the world. My first impression of this country was unpleasant, influenced as I was by the Frigidaire civilization, but my opinion has altered radically since then. Nowadays, Mexico is, in spite of its anarchic tradition, the most stable, peaceful and united country in the world, and this translates into an internal sense of peace that is sorely missing in the sky-scraper society you live in. After nearly a year here, I can confirm that the black legend that hangs over Mexico, the legend of its filth, mortal dangers to human life, and the treacherous nature of its inhabitants, etc., etc., is grossly exaggerated, and even where it’s not, it seems paltry to a Spaniard compared with the state of his own country. Lazy and untalented writer that I am, I’m loathe to continue singing Mexico’s praises to you: let it suffice to say that I’ve now resigned from the two positions I held in France and have decided to make my home here voluntarily, I have furnished a ‘gorgeous’ apartment that is now at the disposal of Mr & Mrs Barcia should they by any chance decide to come to Mexico. Since finishing the film at the end of February, I’ve not returned to work. Dancigers offered another one immediately with Libertad Lamarque, but I graciously turned him down. I’ll try anything once, but that’s enough Lamarque for me. Some fellow called Zacarías is going to do it, an eminent director around these parts. Instead, I’m going to make one with Negrete (who is very amiable) at the end of the year, with a pretty decent script. And until then, although my prospects aren’t bad, I have nothing concrete on the horizon. Gran Casino, the title of the Tampico film – it wasn’t called that, because lack of funds precluded any real evocation of time and place – will premiere within the month. My predictions were not wrong. There is nothing in the film I need be ashamed of. A mediocre story, not badly directed, with some technical novelties in playback, moderately bad acting, decent cinematography, and that’s about all there is to it. And by the way, I made a lot of changes to the version of the script you read. I’m not ashamed of having directed it, because only a film like that would open doors for me to this industry. I finished it exactly on time and within the budget set by the studio, which is rara avis around here. And it will be premiered in one of the best theatres, a prerequisite to my joining the union. I’ll now have more authority over scripts and although I don’t want to delude myself, I think that if I do make another film it will be less trivial than Gran Casino. As was to be expected, the vox populi and the populi press have had quite a go at me. But I find this pleasing rather than annoying, you know my sadomasochistic streak. My life here is very, very reclusive, although we’re always celebrating enormous ‘orgies’ at home with our four or five good old friends. Tell Evita that if she comes she’ll find herself in carefree and youthful company – ours – that holds dances and discussions, even dinners where the guests come dressed as Don Juan. I’ve no contact with the other refugees. And as for Spain, I no longer think of her, except in the same nostalgic way I sometimes lose myself in reveries about the Middle Ages, a happy era for humanity. Please tell Evita’s mother that we’ve all become very Mexicanized, to such an extent in fact that even the children won’t eat anything unless it comes with jalapeños and tortillas. Their tolerance for spicy food is a pleasure to see. As it was she who provided our gastronomic introduction to this sort of food, whenever a typical dish arrives at our table we remember her banquets and her extraordinary poblano chillies. Please send our warmest greetings to Eva and Señor López and the whole family. Send me news of your life and work. A big hug to you both, from your boss, Luis Buñuel

Jo Evans & Breixo Viejo, Luis Buñuel: A Life in Letters

[marlena-immortale]

New Experiences: Part 1

Summary: Damiano wants to explore a new kink and is nervous to bring it up with you, but you ease his nerves. 

CW: SMUT, masturbation, anal play, choking, d/s dynamic (dom reader), dirty talk, discussion of pegging 

Word Count: 2.3k

Damiano David is a confident man. Anyone that’s met him can see it. He knows he’s hot and he doesn’t care what other people think of him, except for you. He holds your opinion very highly and definitely cares what you think about him. So when he discovers something new about himself that he wants to try out, he is very hesitant to bring it up to you. He knows that you’d never judge him and you’d probably even be into it, but his nervousness seems to still be weighing on him. 

A few weeks ago, Damiano was scrolling through Instagram when he found a post of a man dressed in panties, arching his back and bent over, with a woman’s hand on his back pushing him down. He could feel his cheeks heat up and couldn’t help but screenshot the picture (for research purposes only of course). He didn’t know why it had such an effect on him but he decided to file that away to deal with at another time. 

-------

Days later, you were out with your friends and Damiano had the whole house to himself. He lays down on your shared bed, cuddled up in the freshly-washed sheets. He opens his phone and finds the picture his mind just won’t let go of. Without realizing it, his other hand drifts down his own body, pretending it’s the girl’s in the picture, or better yet, your hand. He imagines your breath in his ear as you push him down into the mattress. His hand tucks inside his underwear and starts playing with his half-hard dick. 

He lets out a frustrated moan as he imagines your hips pressing into his ass. He puts his phone down, his imagination more than enough now, and brings his other hand down the back of his underwear, reaching in as he shifts to lean more on his side. His finger makes its way down further and he presses it lightly to his hole. He gasps at the new sensation but it turns into a moan once he decides that he really likes the feeling. He lets himself experiment a bit and starts rubbing little circles against his rim. His mind clouds with thoughts of you telling him what a good boy he’s being, moaning so loud and making such pretty noises while he explores himself. He can feel this new sensation all over his body and instantly knows that this will be a staple in his self-pleasure routine from now on. 

His other hand quickens its pace on his cock as he reaches his climax much quicker than expected. He can feel his hole contract on the very tip of his finger as he cums all over himself, his body shaking with pleasure. He sits there for a moment, processing what he just did and how good it felt, realizing that he definitely has to work up the courage to bring it up with you now. 

-------

The next day, he wakes up to an empty bed and the smell of coffee and carries himself to the kitchen to find you making espresso. You turn around to see your lovely boyfriend clad only in his snug underwear and open oversized flannel falling off his toned shoulders. A smile spreads across your face at the sight, pouring two cups of coffee. You can tell that he seems a little nervous for some reason by his hesitancy to walk closer to you like he normally would. He stays rooted by the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot, to the other, to the doorframe, and back. 

“Everything ok baby?” you ask while setting cups down on the table in front of him and pulling out the two chairs and sitting down. Damiano follows your lead and sits across from you, taking a sip from his coffee. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine…. I just have something I wanna talk to you about,” he confesses, his eyes casting down at his cup held tightly in his hands. 

You try not to get nervous yourself at his hesitancy to tell you. “Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything,” you respond, reaching to take one of his hands in your own, stroking his thumb. The gesture calms him down a bit and he takes a deep breath before replying.

“There’s something new I want to try…. like, in the bedroom,” he says, attempting to maintain eye contact the whole time. You instantly relax, a small smile now on your face, knowing it’s not anything serious and that you’d be happy to try anything he’s interested in.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe we could try…. pegging?” he says, surprised at his own hesitancy to admit his secret to you. You’re not sure why he was so nervous, it’s not like you haven’t casually brought it up before or joked around about it. In fact, you’re more than willing to try it out with him and already have some fun ideas swirling around in your head about how this could go. 

“Is that all? I’d love to fuck you darling,” you offer with a smile, threading your fingers through his own now sweaty ones. His face fills with relief and he lets go of some of the tension in his shoulders. “How about we go to my favorite sex shop and pick something out together?” you offer. 

“That sounds good. You’re really into this right? You’re not just doing this for me?” 

“Oh trust me, I am most definitely into this,” you say as you stand up and stalk over to his side of the table, climbing onto his lap, running your hands over his chest. “I can’t wait to have you trembling beneath me, my cock deep inside of you,” you whisper into his ear. You hear a soft whimper come from his mouth.  

Your words ease his worries, and also makes his heart beat a little faster and breath get a little heavier. You take his jaw into your hand and guide him to look up at you as you continue, “I’ll take it slow though baby, don’t worry. I’ll have you all stretched out and ready for me. You’ll be making such pretty noises for me, I promise it’ll feel so good”. You can see his eyes dilate and feel him getting a little excited when you shift your hips in his lap. Your hand travels lower to wrap lightly around his neck and his head tilts up, allowing you more access to feel his blood pumping under his skin. “How’s that sound baby boy? Do you like the sound of that?” 

He nods dumbly and you let him try again. “Words sweetheart,” you urge. 

“Yes, yes that sounds… really nice”.

“Yeah? Good. Why don’t you use that pretty voice to tell me exactly what you want” you whisper. It’s so easy for you to have him blushing and whimpering like putty in your hands. You just barely tighten your fingers around his throat and listen to his breath hitch and a pathetic noise leave his mouth, surprising even him. 

“I want you…” he trails off. 

“Aww, did my baby get all shy?” you coo at him. 

“I um, I want you to… I want you to shove your fingers inside me and thrust so deep I can feel you everywhere. I bet you’d just love to see me all helpless and fucked out,” he says, his bratty energy coming out in full force. His eyes are dark and lidded as he looks at you with a smirk. You raise an eyebrow, a smirk appears on your own face, seeing how he wants to play this game now. 

“You’re right baby, I would love that, to have you writhing and desperate, grinding your hips down onto me,” you say with a tight grip on his throat and the other hand slipping down to his inner thigh for emphasis. A broken whine escapes his pretty lips and you feel his erection growing against your ass. 

“But I guess you’ll just have to wait for now,” you say with a cocky smile, and swiftly lift yourself off of him with a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him turned on and missing the feeling of you on his lap. 

-------

   The next day, you’re on your way to the sex shop, Damiano practically hanging off of you as you walk to the entrance, a lazy smile plastered across both of your faces. When you get to the shop, you immediately guide him to the section in the front where you know the strap-on harnesses are. His cheeks heat up, imagining you wearing it, and his head instantly goes to burrow into the space between your neck and shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair, stroking his scalp soothingly and when you see that it’s just an embarrassed smile on his face and not anything bad, you pick out a nice leather harness and lead him to the dildo section. 

You can tell that he’s getting all shy and a little subby so you decide to play with him a bit. “Why don’t you pick out one you like, sweetheart?” you ask him, your fingers tilting his chin up and to the wall of dildos in front of you. He looks around, flustered and slightly overwhelmed by all the decisions. He’s still attached to your side, acting less bratty than usual, being too out of his element to attempt to annoy you. This sweeter side of him is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and you plan to see just how sweet you can make him. 

“I want you to pick it out for me,” he whispers, still a little ashamed even though there’s no one nearby. 

“Are you sure baby?” you ask, honored that he trusts you to make the best decision for him. 

“Yes,” he says, nodding while pawing at your waist like a little puppy wanting all of your attention. You melt seeing him be so cute and submissive for you. 

You look to the wall of dildos and find the perfect one; a pretty pastel pink one that’s as close as you can find to Damiano’s actual size, “so you can get a taste of your own medicine,” you say with a wink, placing it in your basket. 

His blush deepens pinker than the dildo realizing that he’s intimidated by his own length. You guide him further into the store, the both of you still with stupid smiles across your face, so enamored and in love with each other. You find the lingerie section and pick out a pretty white lacy set for him, knowing he loves the feeling of lace against his skin and knowing just how sexy  he’ll look in it.

You pick up a few more supplies you’ll need for the big night and check out at the counter before walking back to the car. As soon as you put the bag in the backseat and get situated in your seat, you look over at your beautiful boyfriend and sub to find him looking more embarrassed than he has been all day which was strange considering you’re alone now and not staring at a wall of dildos. 

You look down to see the cause of Damiano’s embarrassment; the growing bulge in his pants. You smile, knowing how shy he gets about getting hard so easily. 

“Aw, my poor sensitive puppy, always so easily turned on,” you say, leaning in close, your breath on his neck and your fingers brushing gently across his clothed erection, teasing him. As soon as he whimpers and starts to buck up into your hand, you sit back up and start the car. 

“Nooo, please touch me,” he whines when you start pulling out of the parking lot. 

You laugh and respond, “Well if you behave like a good boy, I’ll give you a nice reward when we get home”. He pouts but doesn’t say anything else. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

“Yes, I promise,” Damiano desperately responds, needing some sort of release. 

“Okay then, I want you to unzip your pants, pull your cock out, and make yourself cum,” you instruct him, keeping your eyes on the road ahead of you. His hands immediately fumble at his zipper, trying to get it down as quickly as possible. He pulls his pants and underwear down just far enough to pull himself out of them and immediately begins softly stroking. You can feel yourself getting turned on hearing his noises beside you as you navigate your car along the highway. He gasps as his thumb rubs across his tip, his head thrown back and hips moving of their own accord.    

“C’mon baby, I know you can do better than that,” you encourage him condescendingly. 

“Please, I need your hand,” Damiano begs you as he desperately strokes himself, staring at your hands clutching the steering wheel. 

“Aw honey, I know you can do it yourself. You’re being such a good boy for me,” you say. Your words bring him closer to his climax as his hand speeds up on his cock. The car fills with the beautiful sounds of Damiano’s moans and gasps and quiet whimpers of your name that barely are able to make it past his lips. He only needs a few more strokes until he’s loudly moaning and spilling all over his own hand and shirt. 

“This is gonna be fun,” you say, a big smile on your face as Damiano catches his breath, recovering from his orgasm.

[starryhyuck]

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

[thrillridesz]

heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs​ + @ickjun​

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ fic playlist: get you to the moon - KinaBeats ft. Snøw | Amnesia - 5SOS | You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift | Confetti Falling - Big Time Rush | Go Season - Devin Bronson (highly recommended for the racing scene) | Love Story - Taylor Swift 

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

[zodiakuroo]

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?) 

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here 

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less. 

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God? 

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed. 

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right? 

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he  felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right. 

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word. 

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape. 

You could only dream of being so lucky. 

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.” 

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.” 

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.” 

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” 

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice. 

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further.  “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist. 

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you. 

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.” 

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter. 

You should have lied. 

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.” 

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.” 

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them. 

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t. 

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.” 

Wrong choice of words. 

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller. 

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.” 

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi. 

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette. 

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration. 

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief. 

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them. 

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck. 

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?” 

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper. 

“Better.” 

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you. 

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles. 

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating. 

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly. 

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately. 

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.  

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

 “I said in a minute.  Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted.  Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

 “You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch. 

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. 

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle. 

You feel so full. 

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation. 

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel. 

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there. 

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you.  What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said 

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”  

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank. 

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.”  Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute. 

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you. 

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be. 

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes.  “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

 “Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.