#he might have an attitude of a white man but he isn't one for sure

[napisreal]

𝙸 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝙰 𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝙽𝙴,

𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙽'𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴

↓ more variations

+ a version for those who like solving codes a random person on the internet made ↓

( if you solve anything please lmk ill be so happy )

[chiimeramanticore]

Part of the Band - Chapter 1 - Unlikely

Fic summary: My take on the origins of the RAE but with a focus on slowburning Beach and Dook as a couple. Mostly plotted as I go, and I'm also notorious for never finishing my longfics so we'll just see how this one turns out lmao

Chapter word count: 1,196 Chapter 2 -> Read it on AO3!

Dook groans, sitting down against the outside wall of the bar. Kicked out... again. If he keeps this up, he's definitely going to get banned. But that deer was asking for it. He sighs, a hand floating up to his face to assess the damage. He got decked in the face... he can feel the swelling around his eye starting. Just great.

Other than that, he's... fine, for the most part. He moves his attention to his wallet. Opening it up, he finds a dollar bill, three quarters, three nickels, and two dimes. It might cover one last drink, but he's not allowed back in there right now... and it's not enough to do much of anything else. Let alone pay for another night at the motel.

Dook sighs, stuffing his wallet back in his pocket and leaning his head back against the wall. Looks like he'll have to play the town drunk for tonight. He considers finding somewhere more private to sleep, but he finds he has little desire to actually move. He considers going back home, but only for a second. He won't go back, and he knows it... but man, a bed would be nice right about now.

He feels a chill go through him, and pulls his coat tighter around him. It's cozier like this, and he closes his eyes. Someone's home nearby has left the window open, Christmas music gently making its way out onto the street. It's nice. So nice, in fact, that Dook doesn't realize he's drifting off to sleep until a voice knocks him out of it.

"Hey! You okay?"

Dook opens an eye– rather, he opens the eye that isn't swelling. "Huh?"

"You doing alright?" Dook looks up at him. It's a tall figure... a bear. White fur, blonde hair, dressed in a jacket and board shorts. By the looks of him, he's probably going to try to heckle him for money or something.

"Hey, can't you see I'm tryin' to sleep here? I don't got anything for you," Dook says.

"What? No, I'm– I'm trying to help you, man," the bear says, laughing a bit as he speaks. He crouches down to meet Dook, but is still taller than him at this level. "You look pretty beat up. Do you need me to take you to a hospital or something?"

"No," Dook says confidently. "Definitely not."

"Your face is pretty messed up, dude," the stranger says. "I can drive you, if that's what you're–"

"Listen, man," Dook says, "I can't afford a hospital, okay? Can't even afford a place to stay tonight, and you expect me to go with you to a hospital... It's just a black eye."

The stranger falls silent, and Dook avoids eye contact. He's embarrassed, but he's got to stand by this attitude if he wants him to leave him alone.

"...Well, a black eye isn't going to go away on its own, you know," the stranger says finally. "You could at least do with an ice pack. A bag of frozen peas, or something. I'm sure I've got something like that at my place. Free ride."

Dook looks at him, incredulous. "You expect me, to get into your car, and go to your house," he says. "You could be a serial killer for all I know."

"Do I look like a serial killer to you?"

"Yes."

The stranger sputters a bit. "Well, I. Well. Okay. That's fair. But the offer stands."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Dook asks.

"You can't, man," the stranger replies. "Just... I mean, it's either this or you stay out here in the cold all night."

Dook says nothing.

"Plus, it's... kinda the holidays," the stranger continues, standing. "Tis the season to be nice to people, or whatever."

Dook considers his options. It's true that his only alternative is falling asleep in the streets. Comparing that to being indoors, even if just for a bit... well, it's no contest. But he's still not certain he can trust this bear. Looking him up and down again, he considers his build. He's quite tall... and while not exactly lean, Dook can't tell if his size comes from actual muscle or just fluff. Realistically, if it came down to it, he wouldn't stand a chance against this guy in a fight.

...So why does he say yes?

"Alright," he says. "Fine. But only for that." He stands, and their height difference truly becomes apparent now. The stranger is at least a whole head taller than Dook.

"I never got your name, by the way," he says as they begin to walk.

"Oh. It's Dook," he tells him. "Dook Larue."

"Bond, James Bond," the stranger replies, and laughs at his own joke. "I'm just kidding. That's a nice name."

"What about you?"

"Call me Beach Bear."

Dook looks at him. "That's not your real name."

"But that's what they call me!" Beach Bear replies, picking up his stride. He stops at the corner of the street, the only car parked in sight. It's a faded blue convertible, thin and low to the ground. It's got some scuffs around the bumper and the front passenger door, but Beach Bear seems to smile proudly as he unlocks it.

"After you," he says, opening the door for Dook.

"...Sure." Dook gets in, followed by Beach in the driver's seat shortly after.

"Nice car, isn't it?" He says, turning the ignition. "I got her a few years back. Almost ten now, I think. We've been through a lot together, me and this car."

"I've never owned a car," Dook admits. "Never learned to drive."

"Awh, man, you should," Beach says. "Once you get a car of your own, and it's just you and the road, cruising down the highway... that's freedom. Feels like flying."

Dook's ears perk up. "Flying?"

"Yeah!" He laughs. "Or as close as any of us'll ever get."

"What about in a plane? Or– or a rocketship?"

"You ever been in a rocketship?" Beach Bear asks, eyeing Dook. Dook shakes his head. "That's what I thought. That's for a different breed, Dook. Different from me, at least."

"I dunno," Dook mutters, slouching a bit in his seat. "I think it'd be real neat to go to space someday."

"...Yeah?" Beach picks up on the embarrassment in Dook's voice, and softens a little. "That's interesting."

"It is," Dook tells him. "You saw the moon landing, didn't you?"

"Sure I did. Everyone has."

"I grew up during the Space Race," Dook says. "Guess it was just always in me." He chuckles. "But seeing a man on the moon... Gosh." He turns, staring out the window as they drive. "Guess it just made me feel like... anything is possible, y'know? Even I could do it if I really put my mind to it."

Beach Bear is quiet for a moment. "You really want to?" He asks.

"'Course I do," Dook replies.

"...Then hell, don't let anything stop you," he says. "We've got too many people giving up on their dreams these days."

"...Yeah." Dook doesn't say anything else, but he's grateful for those words. They're needed much more than Beach Bear knows.

[thehighpriestess1]

The Gojo fic mentioned here that I wrote the first chapter for but never finished 🥲🥲

I don't know what triggers warnings to add so proceed with caution regardless.

Gojo rubbed his forehead as his blind date complained about the food for the fourth time. He regretted agreeing to get into this and was mentally killing his best friend for the 10th time since the date started. He looked up and saw her giving him the doe eyes. The ones that say Why did you bring me to this crappy diner when we could have gone to a Michelin star hotel. Gojo chuckled lightly.

This was his trick to get out of bad dates. He would pick up the girl from her door and based on what he thinks of her in the first five minutes of the car ride he would either take her to his favorite restaurant or the first off beat diner he saw. Rose, his date started talking about how excited she was to dine with him and how all her friends were going to oh so jealous of her. Gojo looked at her poke her food with the fork and almost felt bad for her....almost.

"Excuse me". He raised his hand to call for the waitress who served them. The girl came and stood next to their table with a sigh. He noticed her sprained left hand and made a mental note to tip her well for putting up with this in that condition.

"Is there a problem?".

"This food is disgusting!". Rose spat sliding her fork on the plate.

"You ordered it". Her deadbeat attitude intrigued Gojo. He noticed that she was pretty and tough looking. Loose strands of her bun fell on her face and her eyes..her eyes were filled with sadness. "I'm sorry but can we get it replaced ?". Gojo said politely snapping out of his inspection.

"Sure but you'll have to pay for this one and the next one might taste the same".

"just do as you're told! Do you not know how to treat customer? And why should we pay when the food is shit!". Rose quipped crossing her hand over her chest.

"because you ordered it and it seems like you ate some of it". Rose scoffed and bit the inside of her cheeks. "I'd like to speak to your manager! Once he knows who we are he will teach you some manners". Before Gojo could step in to diffuse the situation the waitress smiled and rested her right palm flat on the table as she bent towards Rose who was now leaning away from the girl. "I am the manager. We are short staffed. Now..is.there.anything.else.i.can.get.you?".

Rose gulped and looked at Gojo who was amused by this situation looked up at her and smirked at her gloating face. "We'll get the check". He said smiling at the waitress.

"Check it is then".

-X-

You walked back to the desk huffing at this couple. "What happened?". Your friend Jaz was in-charge of billing today. "Just some rich bitch got mad at me and said she wanted to speak to the manager". You said sliding their bill to her.

"Shit. What did you say?". You gave her a toothy smile. "I told her I am the manager".

"Y/n! I told you to stop doing that! You can get fired!". You sighed as you leaned against nthe counter.

"Big fucking deal. This isn't the only place in town looking for cheap labour".

"She's got nice tits though". Jaz said looking at the annoyed Rose.You followed her gaze to Rose and smirked. "Yeah. You think they're real?".

"Seems so. What about the guy? He hot?". You looked at the back of the white haired man. "He rich". You said as your grabbed the bill and placed it between the torn leather folder.

-X-

"Here you go. I hope you had a pleasant time. Please leave a review for the restaurant as it would help us grow". You chanted the rehearsed greeting and bowed. Gojo chuckled as he placed some cash in the folder and slid it towards you. "What's your name?". He asked, pulling back the case just as you were about to reach for it. "I hope you had a pleasant time". You said again. You were used to random men asking for name and number and were in no mood to interact with the couple anymore than you already had.

"That's a weird name".

"Thank you for choosing to dine with us". You said taking back the bill and cash as the couple began to leave. "Excuse me, here's your change". You couldn't believe that someone would leave 500$ for a 80$ bill. "That's your tip".

"That's a lot of tip". You quipped still holding the spare in your hand. "I liked your service". He said winking at you. Rose huffed and walked out stomping her YSL heels. Gojo smiled and swung his jacked over his shoulder as he left you standing.

-X-

Gojo Satoru was an unforgiving man. His word was the law and no one in the city dared challenge his orders. He was cruel in the cruelest sense and had no regard for feelings But Gojo Satoru couldn't get you out of his head for the entire week and on a Wednesday afternoon he decided he needed to at least get your name.

He walked into the diner and looked around for you but you were nowhere to be seen. "Right! She's the manager!". He went to the counter and saw a man in glasses standing there. "Hi".

"Hello Sir, welcome to goldleaf diner. How may I serve you today".

"I want to speak with the Manager".

"I am the manager. My name is hiroki muka-"

"No. Not you. The other manager".

"I am the only Manager here". Gojo ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "The ... The woman. She was the manager a week ago? She had a sprained arm?".

The man raised both his arms in the air and turned halfway around to giggling waitress behind him. "Not again!".

"Excuse me?". Gojo asked tilting his head to the side. "My apology. She is not a Manager. She is a menace. Which is why she was fired three days ago". Gojo let out a groan. "Can I get her name or number?".

"I'm sorry sir I can't do that". Gojo gave him a pressed smile and gently placed a wad of cash on the counter. "Her name".

"Miyoko. But unfortunately I don't have her contact number".The man said slowly sliding the cash in his pocket. Gojo sighed and shook his head. "Is there anyway I can reach her?".

"Girls like her don't stay in one place for long". The man said. Something about his tone made Gojo angry but he calmed himself and returned a pressed smile.

"Miyoko...". He whispered the name as he gave orders to his men to find every girl named miyoko in that area. It was just a name but somehow he felt closer to you. He didn't understand why did he want to know your name. He didn't understand why did he want to find you. He felt like a teenager trying to stalk his crush.

-X-

It took about two days for his men to find out every information about every Miyoko in that area. Gojo sat at the edge of his desk frantically flipping through the pages containing photo and data looking for the familiar face. He tossed the first file on the floor as desperation rose inside him. He tossed the second file to the floor as well as his men gulped at the sudden shift of the atmosphere. He closed the last file and swung it across the room in anger. "She's not here! Are you sure you got each one of them?".

"Yes sir". Gojo groaned in frustration. Geto walked in the room and saw the stiffened men and tossed files. "Didn't find her?". He amused at the the desperate state of his friend.

"Shut up. I don't know what to do!".

"Give up? She's just a waitress you'll find another one". He sat opposite to Gojo and lit his cigarette. "You don't understand. I have to find her". Geto hummed as he let out a puff of smoke. "Did it occur to you that she probably gave a fake name?". Gojo looked up at this smirking friend. "Fuck. I didn't think of that".

Geto laughed as he reached out his hand and ashed the cigarette in the ashtray. "Now to the serious stuff. The deal with Gyizo gang is tonight and you are going instead of me".

"Why do I have to go?".

"Cause you owe me one and I have a date".

-X-

Gojo sat in the backseat as he watched the city lights flicker. He checked his watch 1:00AM. They were well into the heart of the city now after getting the work done. The whole deal had out him in a bad mood. First he couldn't find a fucking girl next his best friend trapped him into attending a shitty deal.He needed a break. "Stop at the convince store". He ordered his driver who obliged.

Gojo walked through the door without looking at the cashier and went to the racks of ramen before finally picking out his favourite one. He walked over to the counter with his eyes fixed on his wallet. "That would be 2.50 would you like a carry bag?". Gojo's hand froze on his wallet. He looked up slowly to see you standing behind the counter. "Hi". He smiled widely like a child who found the last piece of the puzzle.

"Hi. Would you like a carry bag?". He looked at you arm and felt relieved when he saw it was fine now. Next his eyes travelled to your name tag. "So your name is Kiki?". You squinted your eyes at him, "Would you like a carry bag?".

"No. What's your name?".

"That would be 2.50$". Gojo chuckled and looked around. "Look I'm not a weirdo okay? You have no idea how long I have been looking for you". You tool a step away from the counter. Gojo read the fear on your face and raised his hand by his side signalling that he wasn't going to harm you. "You don't remember me? We met at the diner? You had a sprained arm ..?". Then it clicked. He was the guy who gave you the biggest tip of your life. Your shoulders dropped in relief.

"Look man of you're here for your money then I don't have it".

"I don't want my money".

"Then what do you want?".

"I...". Gojo fumbled with his words as his brain tried to think of what did want? "Your name". You looked outside to three Balck range rovers parked in a semi circle. You didn't know what he was upto but you knew you didn't want to be a part of it. "That would be 2.50$".

Gojo sighed and looked at the ramen and cold coffee he picked up. He went back and got another set and placed it on the counter. "That would be 5$". You said scanning the items. Gojo handed you his black card and you inspected it in your hand. "Is this real?". You raised an eyebrow at him. You have had your fair share of people trying to buy with fake or stolen cards, sometimes even with fake money. "I wouldn't use a fake card for 5$ meal". Gojo said chocking his head to a side. "People don't use a black card for a 5$ meal".

Gojo chuckled, "It's the only thing I have on me right now".You shrugged your shoulders and billed him for the items.

"Have dinner with me". Gojo said as you handed him the card.

"I am working". You said trying your best to look busy in the empty store. "There is no other customer and I don't like eating alone". As if in cue his stomach grumbled and heat rose to his cheeks. Your looked at him and let out a giggle. "You seem to be really hungry".

"I am, so please eat with me. I will compensate you for your time". He said holding the items in his hand. You shook your head and smiled. Gojo saw you smiled like that for the first time and his heart skipped a beat. "Alright then but if I get in trouble then it's on you!". Gojo nodded and followed you to the seating area next to a glass wall. Gojo goy the ramen ready as you poured the coffee from the bottle into two glasses with ice.

Gojo rolled the sleeves of his Balck shirt and placed his jacket on the stool next to him. You both sat next to eachother looking at the street outside. "So what's your name?". He asked taking slurping his noodles. "Kiki". You said, avoiding eye contact.

"Is that your real name?".

"For today it is".

"What will it be tomorrow?".

"Beyonce". Gojo choked on his noodles and you smiled amusingly to yourself. "Who are you?". He asked leaning on his one arm and looking at you. You shrugged your shoulders and continued to eat.

"If I come here tomorrow would you still be here?". You stopped your chopsticks mid air."Maybe". Gojo frowned as he straightened up. You shrugged again. He bit the inside of his cheeks as he tried to come with something.

"Why were you looking for me?". It was your turn to ask questions now. Gojo's eyes widened. "I..I wanted to apologise for the way my friend behaved". He looked away cringing at his bleak excuse.

"After a whole week?".

"Yes. I found out that you were not the manager". You let out a chuckle but Gojo saw something that made his stomach churn. He saw a black-blue bruise along your neck which seemed to be spread on your shoulder too. He wanted to ask but he knew you would either won't answer him or give a false story. He saw your arms where your sleeves were rolled up and saw hints of dark red marks.

"You alright?". You were done with your food and Gojo was barely halfway through. "Yeah. Lost my appetite". He said sternly as he picked up both the boxes and went to discard them. You saw his retreating figure and wondered what could have caused the sudden shift. Wiping your mouth and hands you returned behind the counter. Gojo came upto you once again but this time he looked like he knew what he wanted. "When does your shift get over?".

"what do you want from me?". Your asked as you lifted a crate of soda to restock the fridge. Gojo took it from your hand and followed you to the fridge. "I just want to get to know you".

"Why?". You quipped arranging the cans in a line.

"I want to be your friend".

"Why?".

"I think you're... intresting". He said cluelessly. You chuckled and asked. "Who are you?".

"I am Gojo Satoru". You looked up at him and for a second you were lost in his cerulean eyes. You had never seen eyes like these. "You have beautiful eyes Gojo Satoru".

Gojo had been complimented on his eyes since he was a kid then why was he shying away now? Why did it hurt him seeing the pain in your eyes. He had never noticed someone's eyes before but yours, yours took his breath away.

"Hello?". You were snapped out of your daze when you saw your coworker enter. You sighed and took off your vest. "I'm off work now. You can leave". You walked back to the changing broom and removed your blue vest.

You pressed your hand over your chest to calm the insistent beating of your heart. You looked up in the mirror on the locker and chuckled. You looked like shit. Before your could leave your phone buzzed in your pocket.

I'm coming to pick you up. The text had your stomach churning and you understood that it was going to be along night.

Shutting the locker and entering your card in the machine to clock out you walked out the store in your free hoodie with your good pulled up. You thought he had left but you saw him leaning against his car smiling at you. He looked handsome. His tall and broad frame made him looked like a model. The Balck shirt only brought out the white of his hair and his eyes glowed in the florescent light of the store.

"Have a good night". You said hastily and turned away to walk in the other direction but he grabbed your wrist just in time making fall back and collide with his chest. You turned around to look up at him and felt the intensity of his gaze.

"Can I see you again? Tomorrow?".

"I gues I'll be here".

"Promise me you'll be here. Please". Gojo pleaded with his grip on your wrist tightening.

You bit your lip and looked around hoping that no one was watching you but to your dismay you saw your partner standing in an alley way looking at you. "Sure I promise. Tomorrow. I gotta go. Bye". You said and hurriedly walked towards your partner with your head hung low. Gojo watched you leave with a frown. Something seemed off. But he will get to the end of it tomorrow.

Just like he promised Gojo showed up to the same convience store in evening but just like last time you weren't there. He asked the cashier and he told him that you quit your job that morning. Gojo asked for your number but he didn't have it and just like last time you had given a fake name and just like last time Gojo felt hope leave his body. But this time Gojo was adamant on seeing you again.

[arcadian-litterateur]

bury it | kirin o'connor

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

summary: kirin has a no-side-effects solution to dealing with trauma: he buries it. but as time goes on while he’s trapped on the island, he realizes slowly that this “no-side-effects” solution does, indeed, have side effects—and they might just be eating him alive.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of ab*se and r*pe

a/n: i know we never got kirin’s full backstory in the wilds before it was cancelled; only a tiny part of it, so i decided to use what little information we had, kirin’s obviously trained responses with josh’s situation, and fan theories to create my own backstory for him. this is a super dark one shot, guys, and it’s not romance or anything. it’s just a backstory for kirin, but i do indeed plan on making more kirin one shots that will most likely use this backstory as a foundation, so keep an eye on that! this is like my own little the wilds world-building, ig you could say. also... @mirchoff here it is! probably not at all what you thought the "kirin one shot" would be but i have a dark side ig. don't worry we'll get less dark kirin content soon.

𝗞𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡 𝗜𝗦 no stranger to this shitty feeling. This shitty feeling of not mattering to the people he's supposed to matter to. It hit him early, and it fucked with his soul. He had a choice: let it fuck him up, or bury it.

He buried it, and he's been burying it ever since.

On the outside, he's always been the golden boy, the star athlete, the happy, popular jock who has everything he could ever want. He's always been a stereotype; a cliche…an easy-to-read, hard-to-get-with jock.

On the inside, he figures he's still a cliche, just a different one. He's an eccedentesiast. Someone who hides pain behind a smile. The golden boy, sure, but the golden boy with a dark past.

Maybe that's all he is: a remix of all the other broken, blond white boys. After all, what piece of Kirin O’ Connor isn't borrowed? He acts like his mom—she's a good woman, but she’s emotionally unavailable to him, much like his emotional withdrawal from the people around him. He looks just like his dad—fucking piece of shit. He got his jock attitude from the popular boys he used to idolize on television—now he realizes it was easier for them, because they had a script, and he didn't even get a plot summary. His talk comes from his coach—who saved his life, for which he'll always be grateful, but then ended up being a shitty, racist person just like the rest of them, and he hates him for it.

If he thinks about it, Kirin O’Connor doesn't truly like being this convoluted chemical reaction of different people. He wants to be something of his own. But he isn't sure how. And when he's honest with himself, he acknowledges that he's scared he's too fucked up to be anything on his own.

It started when he was a young, young boy, and his mother's father—he will never call him his grandfather—kicked them out of his house. He's not sure when he realized that relatives aren't supposed to be jerks, but he knows without a doubt that the only thing he and that man have in common is blood. He swears he will never be like his mother’s father; he will never sentence someone to cold nights in a car with the backseat for a bed.

Kirin still remembers clearly the days before he was popular. When he was still living in his mom’s car, abandoned by his father and now his grandfather, he watched his mom slowly slip away from him. And when he voiced his concerns to his teacher, explaining as best as an eight-year-old can that his mom needed help, he was mocked by the other children.

He was bullied by the other children for being forced into the role of caregiver too early.

Kirin shoved that pain down and decided that he was above it all. He spent so much time above it all that eventually, everyone else worked their way up, pulling themselves to his level like they envied his life. Gosh, if only they knew what his life was like.

He’s had two stepdads, and neither lasted. The first was named Grant, the second was Harvey. They were both artists, like maybe his mom had a type or something, and they were both sick. Not disease sick, but fucked up in the head, gross sick. Grant would always come home drunk, the classic stepdad with a beer belly and a loud, “Honey, I’m home!” He’d force Kirin’s mom to make his gross, alcoholic friends bean dip and casseroles. They’d trash the living room and then complain when Kirin didn’t clean up after them. 

Kirin didn’t understand why his mom put up with it for as long as she did. It was only after Harvey was gone, too, that his mom showed Kirin the scar from the fireplace poker that Grant had stabbed her with when he was too drunk to think straight, whispering out the nasty threats Grant had made towards Kirin if she didn’t keep quiet. Kirin remembered that trip to the ER, but his mom told everyone she’d tripped and bumped the poker. And everyone had believed it, Kirin included.

But if Grant was awful, Harvey was a demon from hell. Actually, Kirin had contemplated this theory totally seriously at one point, so confused as to how someone could be so cruel. What his mom had seen in this guy was beyond him, but once the new couple got back from their honeymoon, Harvey turned nasty, and Kirin had to sit and watch. Harvey didn’t even try to hide the fact that he abused Kirin’s mom from the boy, who was fourteen at the time. He’d almost boast about it, as if he expected Kirin to take his side, too. Instead, Kirin learned the hard way that Harvey was harder to expose than he thought.

Sometimes, if Kirin is feeling especially masochistic, he’ll pull up his shirt and brush his hands along the dull, dark lumps of scar tissue all over his stomach from the countless times Harvey put out his cigarette on the boy’s pale skin. Maybe that’s one of the reasons that Kirin stays tan—it doesn’t hide the scars all the way, but it makes them seem less suspicious. Like they’re birthmarks or freckles.

But the cigarette burns were the least cruel abuse that Harvey subjected him to, and he doesn’t really want to even think about the other shit Harvey put him through. Kirin hasn’t told anyone about the darkest parts of that time in his life. They’ve heard about all the physical abuse; the violence, but he’s never told anyone about the worst of it. Not his therapist, not his CPS officer. Definitely not his mom, even though she’d endured the same, or even worse. If he talks about the hazy memories from those nights, he has to confront the fact that they were real, and so he leaves those memories be. Tells himself they’re just nightmares.

It could be true. Harvey is a consistent visitor in Kirin’s dreams. Even if the real man is locked away in a prison somewhere, he still haunts Kirin’s sleep like a specter. 

He haunts Kirin now, even on this godforsaken island in the middle of nowhere. Kirin knows in his head that even if Harvey escaped prison and found Kirin’s old high school, he’d have no way to get to Kirin, because nobody fucking knows where he is.

Even Kirin doesn’t know where he is.

Maybe his memories that he swears are nightmares are the reason he could tell something was wrong with Josh. Kirin can’t explain what exactly tipped him off, but something inside his chest got super fucking tight, like it was constricting all of his blood and was going to rip his heart apart, and so he jumped in and told Josh to come with him. He was convinced he was being paranoid.

But now, staring at the welts on Josh’s chest, Kirin feels his blood chill, his fingertips finding the small pebbled cigarette scars on his torso as goosebumps rise on his body. Josh spews some excuse about gluten when Kirin confronts him about it, and Kirin isn’t having it.

He isn’t proud of what he does next, but he’s desperate to get this boy to tell him what’s wrong—or what isn’t wrong. What might just be in Kirin’s head, like all the nightmares. 

So he brings up Seth, uses him as a weapon, as a match that he waves under Josh’s nose, trying to light the fuse in this meek boy, trying to get him to snap and admit something, anything. And just like Kirin knew it would, it works. Josh is yelling at him, talking about how Seth is the problem, and the way his voice quivers as he trails off and his fists tighten up in a defensive stance makes Kirin want to crumple to the ground.

Because he knows that look. That terrified, angry look. He knows that look, because he’s seen it in the mirror on himself. Josh isn’t Josh right now as Kirin stares down at him. Josh is fourteen-year-old Kirin trying to explain away the odd wounds on his stomach to his coach, who isn’t buying it. Josh is fourteen-year-old Kirin breaking down in the lacrosse team’s locker room, finally admitting what Harvey’s been doing. 

And in that instant, even before he asks Josh to elaborate, Kirin knows what Josh did. He knows without a doubt what a sick, demented fuck Seth is, and all he can see when he blinks is Harvey, leering and spitting and screaming at Kirin, hurting him in more ways than just physical.

Kirin sees red, and he knows at that moment that he’s going to make Seth pay for what he’s done to Josh, because no one ever made Harvey pay for his worst crimes against Kirin, and Kirin can’t stand to see another r*pist get away with it. 

Kirin freezes as the thought flashes through his mind, a hand flying up to his torso again, numbly pinching at one of the scars. He’s never been willing to even think it before. To ever truly face the reality of Harvey’s twisted abuse. But he just did, and the full force of it is crashing down on Kirin, bringing tears to his eyes. He blinks them away, rage almost bubbling out of his throat as he growls,

“I’m going to kill him.”

And he isn’t truly thinking about Seth at that moment, not really, but since he can’t get his hands on Harvey to tear him limb from limb, he’ll have to settle. 

Even after he’s pulled away from Seth, the sick asshole sadly still alive and breathing, Kirin knows that he won’t stop protecting Josh. He won’t let Josh do what he did. Because when Harvey hurt Kirin, Kirin buried it. That’s what he did with the hard shit. He buried it. And slowly, it’s killing him from the inside out. Kirin doesn’t want Josh to fall prey to that. Kirin doesn’t want Josh to bury it.

And Kirin thinks to himself that maybe, just maybe, it’s time to pull out a shovel and start digging. Not a grave for Seth or Harvey, (oh, how he wishes), but a hole into the deep abysses in his heart, so he can finally start to unbury all of the shit rotting away from inside him.

Kirin is done burying it.

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥

[moonveiltarot]

Hello! Good morning!!

I'm here to join your game!

I'd like to know what Akira Vasily Ignatov / Kai Mikhaylov think of me!! And 18+ too! If you don't mknd👉🏻👈🏻😶‍🌫️

His hair color is blonde, his eyes color is blue!, his height is 190+ cm or more!!

Before I thought if him was a villain or a bad enemy(Peacebreaker) but after he revealed himself, he's a good guy who bruned his face and infiltrated Peacebreaker to protect the world lol sadly he died in the movie LMAOO😭

He only appear from the movie anime called "Psycho Pass Providence"!!

Also is only 1 character, right?

Ooh, he sounds like a Hero~ That's my type too. * swoon *

But no worries, I'm not gonna take him. Let's get into the reading!

✧･ﾟCARDS

Starspinner Tarot: King of Swords, The Moon, 7 of Pentacles, The Tower, The Fool, 3 of pentacles

My Oracle: Protection, Hubby, Light Masculine, Bully reversed.

Manara's Erotic Oracle: The Truth Behind The Illusions, That Secret Naughty Feeling, Indulging The Impossible Pleasure

Charms: rose, blue rocking horse, fox, cloud / thought bubble, fuzzy baby chick, crescent moon, bow tie, pliers, rabbit in a tailcoat, daisy, pink rose, cross pendant.

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔:

He listens to you as you talk about anything and everything. He finds you to be admirable and lets you just share anything. He feels the same peace as you do. You have an emotional connection, which is not something he allows himself to do often.

He has to be serious and stoic all the time, so your childlike demeanor and attitude are very cute. He likes how playful you are. It is a stark contrast to his militant attitude.

He would just want to protect you and provide for you, as long as he alone could possess you. He definitely wouldn't get outwardly emotional, as he doesn't express emotion that way, but you'd be able to feel this from his energy. He would take care of you and probably would give you a souvenir or something to remember him. He might not even directly give it to you, but lay it somewhere you'd see it and hope you took it. Like on the bathroom sink lol.

He sees you as someone deserving of a brilliant husband and he feels insecure about that. Like he's too much of a fuck boi to ever be able to do that for you, but he will give it his absolute best shot to treat you like an absolute wifey.

He wants to get your attention and will do so in a charming and sweet way, but only after watching you from behind the scenes for a little while. He likes to be the masculine one, the one in charge and who makes the first move. He would do so happily and confidently, but would make sure he knew what you liked. He would present you with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers as well. Like white lilies with a pretty pink ribbon tied around them. I'm seeing them on a counter by a dim lamp.

He may have left them on the counter so he could invite you in and you'd be able to take those home as like a memento, sort of like how I mentioned below. I also see him and a female step out of an elevator into his room, so he got a penthouse suite for the evening. Gahdamn. This man is very generous and feels lucky he has you with him. He isn't afraid of emotional intimacy either. He might tell you that he's committed to his job currently and won't have the time or resources to care for you how you deserve, but he'd be so privileged to indulge in you and just enjoy you for the evening. After the encounter, I can see him standing somewhere random and he sees a white flower and it reminds him of you, so he just stares and savors the moments he remembers with you from this moment. He'd remember your smile and laugh and imagine your head laying on his chest. He would smile about it to himself, much to the surprise of anyone who knows him very well. Not incredibly easy to make this one smile.

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐌:

He's incredibly charming and a perfect gentleman. He has a calm demeanor and is pleasant to be around, even more so in the bedroom. He, himself, may be a little closed off from sharing too many personal details or whatever, but you find it easy to open up and engage with him in conversation.

Akira is an aries, so he definitely has staying power in the bedroom. He seems like he would prefer missionary so he can look into your eyes. It has this strange calming effect on him for some reason. You feel like his safe space away from the horrors of the world. Anyway, he would seamlessly hold your waist and flip over so you're on top. Riding action for this large man. He would love you being top, but would make sure you finish first, probably laying on your back. So switching positions would happen.

He would make sure everything is clean and the lighting is kind of dim before you arrive at, I'm assuming, his apartment or temporary quarters. He wouldn't be able to stay in one place very long considering his job. He would take care to make sure he was in a location you could not be identified and that he could leave quickly without being noticed. He would take into consideration that you deserve a more upscale place, so probably would book a room like that instead of some seedy motel.

If you're already married or in a relationship, he fantasizes about stealing you away and giving you the best sex you've ever had. He's very much attracted to you. You probably tease him often, but try to make it look sort of like an accident, which he likes. It's a vibe that only he would pick up on that. If it happened by accident for real, he would be torn between wondering if you were teasing him or if he was wrong for sexualizing such an innocent little mistake.

He would be highly sexually attracted to you and would think about having a 3rd party involved, but not another female. Like, he would be there to support you while another person which doesn't have a solid identity or face in his fantasy is giving you oral or something.

He's a freak freak. At least in his mind. In reality it would be good sex, but he would probably keep those naughty thoughts to himself. He would lead happily though, so he wouldn't just clam up and say nothing at all during the act.

Songs: Burning In Desire - Chris Grey & Genius - LSD ft. Sia, Diplo, Labrinth

In conclusion: He'd find you to be his dream or ideal person. He definitely would want to get you alone, but would hold back his feral tendencies. I can see emotional connection and just gazing into his eyes a lot. I hope the reading was okay! <3

[redcrescentmoon]

[Tokyo Aliens][Analysis][About the way Tenkuubashi perceives Amamiya]

As we know, Amamiya has a very deep understanding of Shou. 9 years, the amount of time the two of them have known each other, is more than enough for Amamiya to clearly understand the boy.

So, what about the other way around? In Shou's eyes, what kind of person is that white-haired man with one eye covered? Or rather, what is Amamiya's image in Shou's eyes? Specifically, Amamiya is not only a benefactor, and a trustworthy teacher/mentor, but also someone whom the boy cannot understand.

1. To Shou, Amamiya is a benefactor

Regarding this part, surely everyone can see clearly and cannot deny it. I would like to quote directly from the manga chapter 15:

“He is my benefactor.”/“I owe him.”

In chapter 15, Shou used the word 恩人 (onjin – benefactor) when talking about Amamiya. For Shou, Amamiya’s encouragement to join the special armed forces not only meant creating him a new path, but also a new life for him.

Obviously, humans have always been creatures with a strong sense of their identity. They set a very clear boundary between "being human" and "not being human". Either it's human, or it's nothing. As a human being, we must fear death and must die, as is naturally the case. After all, people are always afraid of things they can’t even understand.

For that reason, almost no one among the people around him can accept the body of the planet Ribariba, including Shou himself. "I just happened to get this body; I didn’t want it" - are the words Shou said to himself in chapter 10 when he accidentally heard nasty gossips about him in the bathroom. And then, Shou continued to doubt himself. As always.

But after all, Amamiya's words still had a profound impact on him, beyond all the gossips out there. He followed those words to live, to train, to fight, and not to give up no matter how cruel and hopeless reality was. Because he still has his sister who is in a coma in the hospital waiting to be rescued, and also because he has belonged to that white-haired man since that day.

For that reason, it is not an exaggeration to say that Amamiya is Shou's benefactor - and because Shou himself said so.

2. To Shou, Amamiya is a trustworthy teacher/mentor

Shou is Amamiya's favorite student; everyone knows it. This proves that people are not just saying it out of the blue - there must be something showing that the way Amamiya treats Shou as a teacher and student must be so special. However, I will save this issue for another article.

So let's think about it the other way: how does Shou treat Amamiya as his teacher/mentor? Obviously, he behaved properly and appropriately: he still maintained a respectful and polite attitude towards the man, considered his words to be the absolute and never disobeyed him in important matters. Reading this, you will probably think to yourself, “Oh so what?”

Well, the key is here. Firstly, it can be said that Shou was taught quite well by Amamiya, in terms of strength and awareness that a police officer should have. He has good fighting skills and the ability to react quickly (this has been acknowledged many times, by Ririka and the female alien in chapter 0). At the same time, Shou also has a very correct perception of what to do and what not to do. He did not hesitate to speak out against Amamiya's intention to let Akira join AMO while that boy was just a civilian - because that was what he had been taught. He does not hesitate to do his best to protect others - because that is what he was taught. It can be said that Shou always clearly remembers and engraves what Amamiya taught him. Isn't that the highest respect for a teacher/mentor? And moreover, it can also be inferred that the boy holds a sense of trust in Amamiya, big enough and solid enough to make him always keep what he was taught.

In addition, it can be said that Shou always appreciates what the man taught him (no matter how strict it might be). In chapter 7, when Shou offered to take on the task of protecting Erika alone, Amamiya did not hesitate to remind him of the harsh training period. “That must have been a good experience in your upbringing… I am very glad.” Although it cannot be denied that Amamiya once trained with him in a strict way, Shou still did not feel any resentment against the man in any way whatsoever. On the contrary, the boy did thank Amamiya for that time. Because he understands that the harsh training period was necessary (or can also be understood as necessary evil), that perhaps he will not be able to become a person with such strength and purpose in life - like he is today.

Shou truly understands and appreciates what he taught him, so it can be said that Amamiya is a trustworthy teacher/mentor in the boy’s eyes.

3. To Shou, Amamiya is someone whom he cannot understand

And finally, Amamiya is the person who always makes Shou have vague and incomprehensible feelings toward him. Why did I include this argument? Well, because this proves one thing: Shou also has the desire and need to understand the man.

Only when the person in question is important enough that people have the need to understand them. Most of the time, people always tend to want to know what the other person is like, what their personality is, what habits they have, what they are doing, how they are feeling, or what thoughts they have in mind. After all, human interest is inherently very limited, so it can only be reserved for a certain few. Needless to say, surely everyone will not have the need to understand someone if the relationship with that person is not close enough, or in other words, not important enough, right?

Not only that, Shou's need to understand Amamiya is not a normal desire for understanding. Rather, a seemingly desperate desire. In chapter 15, Shou himself admitted: "He's really great, but most of the time I don't know what he's thinking." Obviously, with someone as mysterious as Amamiya, it's rare for anyone to know what thoughts are running through his mind. Even so, the desire to understand the other person is still a desire. Surely, Shou himself had also wondered about that thought, which made him blurt out about the white-haired man, about his concern in wanting to understand Amamiya like that.

“I thought I was the only one who thinks that.” Once again, this sentence affirms Shou's desire to understand Amamiya. He thought that everyone knew and understood Amamiya's personality, while he was the only exception. It is the very thought that deepened the boy’s desire to know more about Amamiya. A desire to understand the other person so deep and intense that it seems somewhat desperate.

In short, it can be said that Amamiya in Shou's eyes exists in three main images: (1) benefactor; (2) trustworthy teacher/mentor; (3) someone he can't seem to understand. Each of these images has its own rationale, and it is those three images that have contributed to creating the image of AmaShou that I've always liked and loved.

[patchwork-artists]

What would it be like if Original Felix met his IM counterpart and the IM crew and Circus? Would he tease IM Felix about Ozzy?

that's a hard question because it depends what counts as original felix,(⚠️autism moment upcoming⚠️) there's his black and white self, his comic self, and a lot of people look at either the 1950s show or the twisted tales show for references too 🤔 im not as knowlegable on his comic self as i didnt read those, on his black and white self as ive only seen a couple shorts(ive been meaning to watch more but im always meaning to watch more of x ajjsajjda rn im trying to catch up on some oswald and some popeye classics to better understand them and i didnt even Began tackling the mickey shorts—and i fully dropped the alice comedies i dont like them very much, i'm more of a fleischer than a disney guy i watched muuuch more of bettys black and white ones and fleischer generally has much stronger characterizations amongst the black and white era!the other cartoons had characterization but i wouldnt say they were at the level that fleischer was beggining to do with its protagonists)

anyways sorry. you tackled the hyperfixation lemme cut myself from ranting more and answer your question qjsjajdjajdjw i thiiiink. i think, if we speak on a more general term, some b&w felixes would tease him but theyd look more towards the chance of teasing him in general than the chance of teasing him over romance in specific—or they wouldn't care at all/would care more about other things(i know there were a lot of comics and shorts that implied felix to be someone who had this ideology of sharing to your community in a very communism utopia manner, and they might be a bit more focused on the fact that felix is a famous rich writer and isn't doing. anything with that, while some of those felixes are starving on screen he had a lot of starving and poverty issues), from what ive seen of the 50s shorts(i havent seen them all! i just got the luck to find a cd with several episodes on a store nearby so i know those episodes)that one is a little bit more calm and nice and would probably try to help him confess, and twisted tales felix which was tap's main inspiration for his younger self i think would think "oh this poor dude is about to get ruined with another romance he has no chance in. sheesh. anyways how can i either steal his man or steal his money(surely no comical hijinks could come from that)"

now the crew. as in questers. hhhggh long one so i'm just gonna resume it to strongest friendships. black and white shorts felix would hit off very well with bendy, and a little bit boris but deef with bendy. 50s felix would probably like holly the most, mugs second. twisted tales would be interacting with cup the most but always in an almost rivalry to him, not full on rivals but not buddy buddies kinda thing, and i say that because i can see him passing by when cup's playing a luck game to see if he can get him to loose, him seeing cup get himself dates and flirting and try to steal those girls' attention to it not only not working but cup laughing at him, and he's def pretty zany on that show which cup doesn't like because it's unpredictable, not to mention cup's entire attitude could get him to mutter sassy remarks, but i think they'd find enjoyment in that entire dynamic he wouldn't full on hate cup and cup wouldn't full on hate him either

but i might be wrong i haven't watched those in like 3 years ajsjjajdjajd and besides everyone has different interpretations of the characters. as much as i love felix (literally got gifted a felix notebook and felix socks and a felix shirt all by different family members and considering i had already made myself a little felix necklace and was also gifted an oswald bag i finally have the full "i am normal about black and white cartoons" fit 💥 ahsjsjskcja) i am a 6 people and i can only watch and analyze and remember so many shorts while everyone else also uses the brain for their own hyperfixations kwjdjwjfja

[cantcompetewhereudontcompare]

No, you don't. You're one of those people who's intellectually aligned with The Hags, most likely a HUGE LT fan who's offended by this blog. It's kinda sad that you're ashamed to admit it.

Multiple reasons. Glad you asked!

I HATE hypocrisy and I think every single person on the planet has multiple skeletons in their closet. Whether it be racist biases, unchecked privilege, ignorant pressure points that inevitably end up with ignorant actions, etc. We're ALL flawed human beings with inherent privileges and blind spots. Pointing fingers with this sort of stuff is ridiculous because even the best person in the world has shit they've done in the past. And if you think you don't, you're probably covered in it.

Most of these issues (such as racism, cultural appropriation, misogyny, homophobia) hurt real people in real time. They destroy lives and families and can cause a lot of pain, sometimes generational. To dilute that into some sort of gotcha moment of "the celebrity I like is better than yours" feels like one of the worst things you can do, in terms of morality, on social media. You're essentially taking the pain and suffering of a minority and making it about the faces that entertain you on your screen. What kind of awful human being are you? How do you not realize that you're worse than whatever action you're condemning? I'm not saying that holding people accountable is bad. But 99.99% of the "problematic" online discourse is not about that. If I were to make that kind of post about artists I dislike, my motivation would be obvious.

There are lines in the sand, such as sexual or physical abuse or violence, consistently racist and dehumanizing views, etc, which I do think deserve to be called out consistently and everywhere. I don't think Louis has those attitudes, which is why I don't. I called out Zayn and Liam for being abusers. That's the difference.

I'm talking about Louis' homophobia because 99% of his fanbase believes he's queer in a myriad of conspiracy theories that affect real people — both Harry and Louis, but also their families and friends and significant others. I think having the tools to counteract those people is important. The fact that Louis has had homophobic attitudes his whole life directly contradicts those conspiracy theories.

What would be the point of the racism post? The only reason I might do it is to point out his fanbase's hypocrisy. I haven't decided if I think that's morally sound or not.

I wouldn't do it to "call Louis out" because I just think I'd be a hypocrite. Surely I've done stuff in the past I'm not proud of. I just don't happen to have my life and every word on display like he does.

Like I said, I dislike Louis because I dislike his personality and his music. Not because of how problematic he is or isn't. I don't measure the art I like by the attitudes of those who made it. I think Elvis Presley was an absolute turd but I think his music was incredible. I think Steven Tyler is morally abhorrent but his voice is amazing.

Perhaps I wouldn't feel comfortable "stanning" people that I find that morally challenging? That's the only concession I'm willing to make in this regard.

You sound white.

I'm an Asian woman living in Eastern Europe. I promise you, I don't have the luxury to not "see a problem with being racist."

The fact that you're comfortable telling this to a stranger because of a pop culture conversation is what makes you sound white, aka privileged, in case you were wondering.

Harry is not an asshole, as far as I'm aware😊

Is this "racist stuff" in the room with us right now? He's not morally clean because nobody is. He's had his faux pas, such as wearing a headdress (which is cultural appropriation but I wouldn't call racist), being ignorant about Israel in the past, being ignorant about they/them pronouns at the beginning of his solo career, and I'm sure that as a privileged white man he has his racist biases, but he's done nothing racist that we know of.

There's two things that I can possibly think you could be referencing.

One, that accusation of him doing "digital blackface" when he replied "hahaha" to Pixie Geldoff posting a pic of his with stickers. That accusation was fantastic, one of the best examples of the fake internet pearl clutching.

For the uninitiated, in 2012 Harry went to a Christmas dinner with friends. One of them, Pixie Geldoff (Bob Geldoff's daughter) posted a pic of his from that dinner, edited with Snoop Dogg's app "Snoopify" which added stickers of stuff that Snoop Dogg would do/wear. As in, it would "Snoopify" you.

Harry quoted that tweet with "hahaha" (back in the day, quote tweets didn't exist, so this is how you quote tweeted)

Pixie deleted the tweet (it had four photos of four different people, all present at that Christmas dinner, Harry being one of them) but here's the photo:

People said that this photo was edited to make his skin darker in an attempt to do digital blackface, which is obviously absolutely ridiculous. That's just iPhone camera quality in 2012.

Here's another pic from that night. That's Pixie in front of him, btw.

So, Harry saying "hahaha" (not even editing or posting it himself!) to a picture of himself edited with the fucking Snoop Dogg app, when he was eighteen years old, somehow got twisted into him being racist. Go fucking figure.

The other racist accusation is that he "kicked BLM flags" and "refused to talk about BLM until his fans begged him" which is, well.

Not true, for one. It's just not true. He didn't kick anything. It's unclear if he even saw the one BLM flag fans threw on stage during his second London show in 2017 (October 30), as there was a project to bring BLM signs to that show and someone threw a flag, but Harry didn't interact with it and there's no indication that he even saw it.

He did see the signs they brought and acknowledged them positively:

They did the project again for his Manchester show, no flag this time.

He then posted them on his Instagram the day after the Manchester show. November 1st was the Manchester show, November 2nd he posted:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @harrystyles

Fans weren't happy because they felt like he had to say something concrete, which I guess is valid criticism, but there was absolutely not ignoring on his part.

After that, in his next show (which was in Stockholm, November 5), he gave this speech:

There were no BLM projects after Manchester and up until the next year when his tour went to America in arenas. At one of his first few shows (I can't remember which one now), he met a fan for Make A Wish who brought a letter telling him how important it'd be for his black fans for him to head on address the BLM movement. After that show, he did this:

This was at the same show, but the video was posted later (he's wearing the same outfit):

And after that he went on to wave the BLM flag at basically every show:

On the first interview he gave after this tour (on his next album cycle) he said:

On tour, he had an End Gun Violence sticker on his guitar; he added a Black Lives Matter sticker, as well as the flag. “It’s not about me trying to champion the cause, because I’m not the person to do that,” he says. “It’s just about not ignoring it, I guess. I was a little nervous to do that because the last thing I wanted was for it to feel like I was saying, ‘Look at me! I’m the good guy!’ I didn’t want anyone who was really involved in the movement to think, ‘What the fuck do you know?’ But then when I did it, I realized people got it. Everyone in that room is on the same page and everyone knows what I stand for. I’m not saying I understand how it feels. I’m just trying to say, ‘I see you.’”

Essentially explaining that he didn't want to be performative, but once he understood why his voice mattered, he used it.

Mind you, this was years before the BLM movement became mainstream with non-black celebrities, most of which wouldn't acknowledge the movement until it became trendy in 2020.

As someone who isn't black, I can't actually say that he's never been racist against black people. It's not my place. I was being hyperbolic before. But I do know that the only two racist accusations that were leveraged against him were these two.

I've been a fan of this man for over a decade and I've seen every possible thing said about him, so I'd most likely remember if there was another instance. I think the only other adjacent accusation was when he made a (scripted) joke at the Late Late Show saying that Trump was going to deport James Corden? But that's not...? Racist against who? LMAO. I remember The Hags trying to use that against him, but the joke is that... Trump... didn't like James because he criticized him a lot, so he would force him to go back to the UK. This is almost as bad as the "hahaha" one.

The whole thing is very unserious.

Now, when I say that Louis has had racist attitudes, I mean saying the n word, reacting with a "you're on camera" when his sister said the n word instead of, you know "don't say that word," going on a press tour where he said over and over how much he hated the music on the radio for being "too urban" which

This

The first time there was more than one black headliner

He even followed that up with

What does he mean by "that genre"? Black? In 2018 Beyoncé's latest album was Lemonade, which had like, fifty-seven different genres, so he's gonna have to clarify that one.

Anyway, I'm doing this to piss you off, FYI. Not to stone Louis to death. He's tone deaf, ignorant, and has racist biases because he's a privileged white boy. Most privileged white boys will have to unlearn shit in order to not be racist.

Yes, even Harry. His (public) faults might not be quite as bad, but he's had them, and this isn't a competition. We also don't know either of these men in private, so it's impossible to actually qualify them as people.

I do think Louis is an asshole, but for multiple reasons, not just these "faux pas" (or whatever you want to call them). And if you "hated him" you wouldn't care, and you certainly wouldn't be in my inbox crying in whataboutism.

I don't think Harry supports any "genocidal maniacs." He's friends with questionable people, as is... literally every person on the planet. You included. Some of them I would even call very questionable. But I would put very few people in the category of "genocidal maniac," and as far as I'm aware, Harry isn't friends with any of them.

You're using a ridiculously overblown way of referring to very questionable individuals to attack a celebrity you (quote) hate (unquote). This isn't a joke. This isn't internet cookie points, girl. This is children dying, starving, being orphaned, losing their homes, losing limbs. Get a reality check.

I don't judge anyone by association, FYI. Unless we're talking something like, sending letters to the judge to shorten the sentence of a convicted rapist, as what happened with Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher. We all have questionable friends. An eye for an eye and we all go blind. Anyway, I addressed these friends almost three months ago.

I hope getting that off your chest helped. You're obviously blocked. Next time, own up to your intentions and you won't be.

[actuallyitsstar]

bradley rooster bradshaw & 22, 12, 21? <3

✨ send me a number and a character! ✨

HENLO USER MARCHRAINDROPS!!!! ily and im so sorry for how long this took aaaaaaaaaaa but pls take my humble offering, and i hope that u enjoy my attempt at doing this ask justice lol <3 <3

(p.s. i did answer one of these for bradley here already, so click for another and more lighthearted headcanon lol)

22. something you like and dislike in reading for this character?

something that rly matters to me when it comes to bradley is, i guess for lack of a better word, his attitude. bradley has had, admittedly, his share of traumatizing experiences in life, and he was raised on eggshells and rose-petals, walking under the shadow of a grief too heavy for him to bear alone, watching the adults he knew and trusted be crushed slowly beneath it instead. he was a bright and happy child whose innocence was slowly stolen, piece by piece, building a sardonic and cynical adult. bradley was soft, and he still absolutely c an be, in the right setting and with the right people. but he's still a grown man, at least thirty-four-ish, who's been hardened by loss after loss after betrayal, who has gone through war and come home again. he can be sarcastic and self centered, closed-minded and demanding, vindictive and rageful. he's brash and quick to speak, fierce in spirit but measured, too; aware of the pitfalls behind life's every corner and terrified of stepping on another; this time, completely alone. he hesitates and he meets the consequences of his indecision, and he takes that blame out on others.

i guess i like to see bradley's roughest edges acknowledged. he has been hurt, and he will hurt other people. he's not exactly a white knight of most situations (except for when he is- sacrificing himself for phoenix in training comes to mind; it is all about nuance isn't it?). i think it's easy to paint those kinds of flaws out of the picture, and i can understand why we might want to- because after all, no one wants to think about their favorite character being the "bad guy" in a situation. but everyone is, sometimes.

i guess what i don't like is seeing bradley treated with kidd gloves. realistically, bradley was spoiled as a kid, and why wouldn't he have been? the hope of a family grieving the loss of its pillar (goose), and that's a lot of weight for a little kid to carry. they'd doted on him, and put all their efforts into giving him the happiest childhood they could muster in the face of that loss, and maybe they were quick to give in to demands- maybe they were quick to take the situations upsetting young bradley away from him instead of teaching him how to cope with them. i'm not sure if, for all of their love and devotion, the adults in bradley's life would have known how to teach him to cope with a situation healthfully, anyway.

12. what's a headcanon you have for this character?

bradley has goose's old cross necklace, and it's one of his most prized possessions.

when bradley was little, he was 100% a mama's boy. after all, for all that mav was there, which was always as much as he could be but no more than the tight grip of the navy on his collar would allow- it was just bradley and carole against the world, together, for most of it. he talked to his mom about everything, trusted her with everything, and he took her illness so incredibly hard. obviously- that's his mom, after all- but even more than he showed, at the time. he'd tried to be strong, for his mom and for mav and because he's not sure he remembers anymore, but he thinks it's what his dad would have wanted, too; for him to take care of mom. he tries, but doesn't end up remembering how to take care of himself at the same time.

the wedge that separates bradley from the world and everything good in it is the same one that splits carole off from her family and leaves them alone without her. as her illness worsens, bradley becomes more and more sullen and withdrawn and angry, with the world and the lot handed to him. he savors each moment he has left with her but grows to dread hospital visiting hours, too, because it gets harder and harder to remember her as she was with each hour he spends watching her waste away. the breaking point is when he's thirteen years old, and they know carole has a few months more, at best. bradley isn't supposed to know yet- but he isn't stupid. he can overhear parts of a hushed phone call, and see the worry lines around uncle mav's eyes when he tries to offer reassurances that bradley doesn't believe in anymore.

she calls him in for visiting hours alone, telling uncle ice to take uncle mav home and make him take a shower and go to bed. mav protests profusely, but a look of understanding passes between ice and carole over the heads of everyone else in the room, and everyone but bradley is subsequently herded out. bradley settles himself on the edge of her bed, feeling awkward with the presence of the dreaded ticking time between them. despite her gauntness and exhaustion, though, she offers him her brightest smile. i have something to give you, baby, she tells him, and then it's dangling from her fingers before he has time to realize it fully- a silver cross necklace. his dad's necklace.

i've was meanin' to give this to you, when you're all grown up, she says quietly, and bradley swallows hard, drawing in a shaky inhale. but i just couldn't wait any longer. your daddy would be so proud of you, honey. and bradley knows it means she loves him and that daddy does too, but he also knows it means that his mom is saying goodbye. when uncle mav sees him wearing it later that evening, his small hand tightened around the metal so firmly that it digs into his skin, his uncle's face blanches, but mav doesn't say a word about it. bradley doesn't either. when everything falls apart between them much later, bradley tries to assign meaning that isn't there, telling himself that maybe mav had wanted that necklace to keep selfishly to himself, or that maybe mav hadn't thought he'd deserved it. it's not until much, much later that he manages to reason out the much simpler truth of the moment; of the guilt and the exhaustion and the realization that his all-but-sister knew she didn't have much longer if she'd finally passed the necklace down.

during the long years of his twenties and early thirties, bradley clings to the necklace, convinced it holds the parts of his past that he's missing, the feeling of belonging he's craved and cannot seem to find. the weight of it against his breastbone, beneath his uniforms, is half-comfort and half-terror. he doesn't explain it to anyone, not even to phoenix. i didn't know you were spiritual, she tells him upon catching a glimpse of it in the gym. bradley is hasty to shove it back inside his shirt collar. i'm not, he growls back, and that's that. she doesn't ask again. he doesn't volunteer. just like the look mav had worn upon seeing the necklace, it isn't until much, much later that bradley figures out what he'd been missing, after the mission and after the reconciling and after everything- til he figures out that maybe the necklace means something to him because it had meant something to mom and to dad and to mav, and that maybe he doesn't have to drag the ghosts and spirit of all three of those people into the cockpit with him each time he goes up into the air. maybe knowing they had loved him all along is enough. he tells himself that this is what the cool metal against his skin reminds him of, now, and for the most part, he finds that he can learn to believe it.

21: something you like and dislike in writing for this character?

i think it's sort of rare to be in a fandom where you have this primary character and you know so much about the things that built that character. i mean, not the most rare- obviously there's a lot of stories and franchises out there that focus on lineage and talk about long-spanning over-arcing stories. but to get to know carole and to get to know goose and to get to know mav and the other flyboys too; depending on your opinion of the closeness of the group after the first movie (i guess we all know MY found-family-obsessed-ass's opinion on that lol <3) is a gift that builds a picture of bradley, and unpacking it and piecing it together is one of my favorite privileges in writing him! feeling like i know the people who shaped bradley means i feel like i know bradley so much more, too. there's so much focus, especially in tgm, on history and mirroring and repetition and the weight of years and the passage of time, and of course there needs to be, for a sequel made so long after the original- because it is all built on the power of nostalgia- but it also says something about the construction of a character like bradley, doesn't it?

that being said, i do spend a lot of time trying to strike the balance, because i think there can be too much mirroring and a little too much drawing from influence. the double edged sword is allowing bradley to be a separate and independent person who is shaped by and not defined by those things. i think it's very easy (or at least for my sentimental ass it is lol) to get a little TOO wrapped up in the ~nostalgia~ and the trying to weave a 30+ year narrative into one character's image, and i do have to remind myself to avoid letting that walk all over the actual characters i am actually presently writing.

@marchraindrops AHHHHHHHHHH again i am so so sorry this took so long but i thank u so so much for thinking of me and sending the lovely ask, i had a lot of fun answering ;) and i am always thrilled to type my silly little answers lol. i promise to always answer even if it takes like.... more than a hot minute lol <3 TY AND ILY!!!! <3<3<3

[objection-u-a-bitch]

One thing I learn about many people on tumblr is that if you're white and have been treated better by the patriarchy, you will always carry that attitude no matter what that somehow you can dictate other people's experiences and fear because of you have never experienced something bad in life in general or perhaps not worse.

I'm pretty sure you're trying to roast me here but the grammar is pretty bad so I can't even really tell.

Is this about me? If so, who said I'm white? You'd have to scroll down FAR on my blog and read all of my tags to find anything on the colour of my skin.

Who said I've been treated well or even better by the patriarchy? You don't know me, and I certainly don't sell my own misery online for pity points.

Who said I'm dictating other people's experiences? If you feel unsafe around all men, that's your problem to deal with. Frankly, I'm not a therapist. If you come into my inbox talking about how unsafe you feel around all men, the best I can do for you is tell you to go to therapy. I usually don't, because people only tell me this to harrass me into letting them be dicks, but that's besides the point. Fearing 50% of the population just isn't a nice way to live, and there are things you can do to ensure your safety at night/on dates/in clubs that don't require you to live in fear. Caution is not the same as fear.

And to be honest, I as a man shouldn't have to be the victim of your fear. Aside from the fact that the phenomenon known as white woman tears has genuinely cost black lives, especially those of black men, and therefore I don't really have faith that that "fear" is genuine a lot of the time, I don't think most people take a second to think WHY it is that they're scared of someone.

Because the truth of the matter is that black men are frequently portrayed as aggressive abusers who leave their children and commit a lot of crime. Trans men are portrayed as predators and liars who take advantage of their "female socialisation", if they're not outright seen as traitors who are trying to leave womanhood behind for the bliss of privileged manhood. Jewish men are portrayed as greedy and evil, and Arab/Islamic men are seen as extremist oppressors who force their women to veil. Asian men are portrayed as misogynistic, and historically also as predators to white women. Disabled men are portrayed as boundary-disrespecting creeps, and fat men as incels. The intersections of these identities face worse.

Are you afraid of these men because your fear is genuine, or are you afraid of these men because of the stereotypes that cause biases that you're unwilling to check? Are you keeping yourself safe in public in a manner that is reasonable, or are you actively discriminating against marginalised by perpetuating these stereotypes? Can you bring enough self-awareness to the table to acknowledge you might be doing the latter?

And if you have been scrolling through my tags, you will know that my original post is largely about how men are treated online. On the internet, you can't be put in immediate danger the same way you can in real life. You can't hide behind the excuse that you're treating men poorly because you're keeping yourself safe. So what does it say about you that you still feel the need to come into a (marginalised) man's inbox to complain about how he doesn't respect your real life fear enough when he's talking about how people on the internet should not be treating him poorly for being a man?

Nevermind that in real life I should also not have to hear that "all men are evil" and that someone wants to "kill all men". I deserve to live in comfort without being hated and treated poorly for who I am, just like everyone else. Despite the fact that I am and always will be a man.

[mermaidsirennikita]

This might be a difficult request, but do you have any recs for het romances (preferably HC) where the usual narrative of man = worldly and woman = naive is subverted? It doesn't necessarily mean that the woman has to be dominant or the man meek, im just looking for more interesting dynamics.

Thanks <3

Oh, for sure! Most of these are virgin hero books, but I tried to focus on the attitude of the heroes.

Check out:

Unclaimed by Courtney Milan. Historical, hero is a virgin who has a somewhat naive (though not judgmental) view of the world and wants to wait until he falls in love. Heroine is a sex worker who's been paid by one of his enemies to seduce and humiliate him.

Hotel of Secrets by Diana Biller. One of my favorite releases of this year thus far. Hero isn't super naive, but he is a virgin and does have a very black and white and principled view of the world, and is basically celibate because he doesn't want to deal with complex gray feelings. The heroine isn't a virgin and is the well-known illegitimate daughter of a baron; she runs a hotel and has to pick up slack for her flighty mother. The hero is a spy and very good at his job, but I'd call him emotionally naive whereas the heroine is emotionally worldly. This one is set in late nineteenth century Vienna.

Thief of Shadows by Elizabeth Hoyt. An all time favorite of mine, a Georgian historical with another virgin hero. The hero is a vigilante and he knows the world is Bad (his big thing is saving abused kids, and he runs a foundling home) but again I feel there's a level of emotional naïveté because he's sort of determined to keep those complications at arm's length. The heroine is a widow who's taken lovers and is very worldly and kind of cynical, if kind; she's also about six yeas older than him. He's poor and she's aristocratic, so he's also a bit out of place in her world. They fall in love, it's gorgeous, and I feel like he learns about a lot of emotional complexities and contradictions from her.

The Lord I Left by Scarlett Peckham. Not my favorite Peckham, but the hero is a virgin minister and the heroine is a dominatrix in training. A lot of what I'm talking about with his lack of worldliness is less the virginity and more him not knowing the truth of the world.

Mating the Huntress by Talia Hibbert. Paranormal romance novella. The hero is a virginal super lovey and sweet and naive werewolf, and the heroine is a werewolf hunter who's a lot more jaded. It's hot and lovely.

Dark Needs at Night's Edge by Kresley Cole. Conrad is a crazy vampire virgin whose life has mostly been madness and killing, no real social interactions for centuries. He meet Neomi, who's the ghost of this burlesque-dancer-turned-ballerina, very carnal and emotionally intelligent. Obviously a paranormal. One of my all time favorites, soooo very good.

The Rakess by Scarlett Peckham. Hero is a kindly single father who's not very familiar with society and its contradictions, heroine is a well-known man-eater who's writing her memoirs and ends up having a fling with him. I want to say it's Georgian?

[aspenmissing]

𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

The walls of the motel room are covered in maps, hand-written notes, and a missing poster showing Ava's face. Sam is on the phone.

"Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Ellen," Dean and Y/N enter.

"What'd she have to say?" She asks.

"Oh, she's got nothing. Me, I've been checking every database I can think of- federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava, she just...into thin air, you know?"

"Huh," Dean hands over one of the two cups of coffee he's carrying to Sam, Y/N holding her own.

"What about you two?" Y/N shakes her head.

"No, same as before. Sorry, man," Dean says.

"Ellen did have one thing."

"Hmm?"

"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks."

"Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?" Y/N asks, sitting at the small table.

"It's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, you know? Look, I don't know, Guys, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out," Sam says, as Dean takes his jacket off and sits opposite Y/N.

"You did?"

"Yeah. You seem surprised."

"Well yeah, it's just, you know. Not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it?"

"What way is that?" Sam asks, mildly challenging.

"Yeah Dean, what way is that?" Y/N says sarcastically.

"I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and—" Sam gives him a look "yeah, I'll shut up now."

"Look. I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. You know? But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can," Y/N and Dean look at each other surprised. They then look to Sam.

"Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you," Sam ducks his head and laughs.

"All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it," Y/N says.

==

It's not raining, but the roads are wet and the air misty as Y/N parks the Impala in front of the inn. Y/N gets out of the driver's side, followed by Dean from the passenger side and then Sam from the back.

"Dude, this is sweet. We never got to work jobs like this," Dean says.

"Like what?"

"Old schools haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways...sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside," Dean closes his eye briefly "Mmm, Daphne. Love her."

"Trust you to love a cartoon," As they go up the stairs, Sam notices an urn on the side of the porch.

"Hey, wait a sec," Sam inspects it more closely "I'm not so sure haunted’s the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"You see this pattern here?" Sam taps a five-point symbol engraved in the urn "That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot."

"Five-spot," Y/N says.

"Yeah."

"That's used for hoodoo spell work, isn't it?"

"Right, yeah. You fill this thing with blood weed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies."

"Yeah, except I don't see any blood weed. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, white meat for hoodoo?" Sam shrugs.

"Maybe." As they enter, looking around at the quite interior, a woman enters briskly.

"May I help you?" She asks.

"Hi, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights," As Sam moves in, a little girl darts in front of his legs.

"Hey!" The woman turns to Sam "Sorry about that."

"No problems."

"Well, um, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests."

"Well. Sounds vaguely ominous," Y/N says.

"No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month," The woman appraises them "Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?" Dean, Sam, and Y/N share a 'why not' look.

"How'd you know?" Dean asks.

"Oh, you just look the type," Dean looks vaguely uncomfortable.

"So, uh, king-sized bed?"

"What? No, uh, no, we're, we're...three singles. We're just siblings."

"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry," Y/N gives her a smile.

"It's okay. It happens a lot."

"What'd you mean that we look the type?" Dean asks. The woman has trouble articulating an answer.

"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?"

"Oh, I have no idea, it's been there forever," handing Dean a key "Here you go, Mr. Mahagov."

"Thanks," The woman dings a bell.

"You'll be staying in room 237. Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen and lady to their rooms?" As she says this, Y/N turns to see an old, balding man in a black blazer shuffling up behind her.

"Let me guess. Antiques?" Sherwin drags Dean's clunking duffel bag behind him, up the stairs, as the siblings follow.

"I could give you a hand with that bag," Y/N says.

"I got it."

"Okay."

"So, the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam says.

"Yep. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame."

"Oh yeah?"

"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here; I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it. Here's your room," Sherwin slips the key to Y/N as he brushes past and Sam follows in. Dean turns to shut the door and Sherwin is standing there, hand extended expectantly "You're not gonna...cheap out of me, are you, boy?" Dean shrugs, looks annoyed as he pulls out his wallet. Later Sam is sitting, sifting through papers, Y/N is sitting next to him, and Dean is pacing. He chuckles as he approaches what appears to be an antique wedding dress displayed on a wall like a ghost.

"What the-"

"What?" Y/N asks.

"That's normal," Dean says, gesturing to the dress. Y/N shrugs "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."

"All right. Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel; and victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."

"Well, there's a connection, they're both tied up in shutting the place down," Y/N says.

"Yeah. Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back."

"Who do you think our witch doctor is, that Susan lady?"

"No, doesn't seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling."

"So, what then, Sherwin?"

"I don't know."

"Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay or one of us is with each other or all three of us."

"Now that's a question I want to know," Y/N says.

"Well, you are kinda butch. Probably think you're overcompensating," Dean mocks a laugh.

"Right."

"That still doesn't answer why people think I'm seeing one of you or both of you," Y/N says, and Sam shakes his head.

"That I still don't know."

==

Sam, Dean, and Y/N poke around the hallways, Y/N sees another urn and picks it up. It too, has a quincunx inscribed.

"Hey. Look at that. More hoodoo." They approach a door marked 'Private,' and Dean knocks. Susan opens the door.

"Hi there."

"Hi. Everything okay with your room?" Dean, Sam, and Y/N talk over each other.

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah, everything's great. Yeah. Very comfortable."

"Well, I was, I was just in the middle of packing."

"Hey!" Dean looks past her "Are those antique dolls? Because this one," Dean looks to Sam "this one here, he's got a major doll collection back home. Don'tcha? Huh?" Sam shoots Dean a look.

"Big time."

"Big time. You think he could come- or we would come in and take a look?"

"I don't know..."

"Please? I mean, he loves them. He's not gonna tell you this, but he's, he's always dressing 'em up in these little tiny outfits and, um, you'd make his day. I mean when I was younger, he loved playing with my dolls. You- she would, huh? Huh?" Y/N says, trying to keep her laughter in. Sam looks slightly sick.

"It's true."

"Okay. Come on in."

"All right. All right!" Dean slaps Sam on the back, and he and Y/N share a shoulder nudge as they laugh quietly and they follow Sam in as he shoots them a death glare.

"Wow. This is a lot of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super creepy at all," Y/N says.

"Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."

"What is this? The hotel?" Sam asks, and Y/N walks over.

"Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom built." Y/N leans down and picks up a broken doll. She frowns.

"His head got twisted around. What happened to it?"

"Tyler, probably." A little girl runs in, presumably Tyler.

"Mommy! Maggie's being mean."

"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?"

"Hey, Tyler. I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?" Y/N asks.

"I didn't break it. I found it like that."

"Oh. Well, uh, maybe Maggie did it," Sam says.

"No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em."

"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad."

"Grandma?" Dean asks.

"Grandma Rose. These were all her toys."

"Oh. Really. Where's Grandma Rose now?"

"Up in her room."

"You know, I'd, I'd uh, I'd really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll collection," Sam says.

"No. I mean, I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors," Susan says suddenly. Sam, Dean, and Y/N exit the room, talking in hushed voices.

"Well, what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?" Y/N asks.

"Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses, and binding spells, and..."

"Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor. All right, Me and Y/N will see what we can go dig up on boomin' Granny. You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing, see if she's whacked anybody before."

"Right."

"Don't go surfing porn -- that's not the kind of whacking I mean," Sam rolls his eyes and turns back to the room as Dean and Y/N leave.

==

Sam stares through a lace-curtained window as droopy music plays. He watched the coroner cart away a body; Dean and Y/N are outside, and meets Susan as she comes back towards the inn.

"What happened?" Y/N asks.

"Oh, the maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just...hanging there."

"That's awful. He was a guest?" Dean asks.

"He worked for the company that bought the place."

"Hmm."

"I don't understand."

"What?"

"Had a lot of bad luck around here. Look, if you'd like to check out, I'll give you a full refund."

"No thanks. We don't scare that easy," Y/N says. Sam is sitting alone in the dark, framed by the half-open door with the key askew in the lock. Dean and Y/N enter and shut the door behind them, all business-mode.

"There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room."

"Yeah. I saw," Sam says darkly.

"We've gotta figure this out, and fast. What'd you find out about Granny?"

"You're the boss," Dean looks at Y/N surprised then to Sam.

"What?" Dean asks.

"You're bossy. And short," Sam laughs sloppily.

"Are you drunk?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah," Sam laughs "So? Stupid." Y/N and Dean look around and see several empty bottles.

"Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case," Sam is staring at nothing, tearfully.

"That guy who hung himself. I couldn't save him."

"What are you talking about? You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything," Y/N says. Sam shifts his gaze to her.

"That's an excuse, Y/N. I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava too," The twins approach Sam.

"Yeah, well, you can't save everyone. Even you said that," Sam slams the table.

"No, Dean, you don't understand, all right? The more people I save, the more I can change!"

"Change what?" Sam leans forwards, hand to chest.

"My destiny, Guys!"

"All right. Time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch," Y/N says and she leans over and hauls Sam up by the shoulders, with the help of Dean. "Come on."

"I need you two to watch out for me."

"Yeah. We always do."

"No! No, no, no. You have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever...turn into something that I'm not..." There is a short pause. "you have to kill me."

"Sam," Dean says, dismissive. Sam shoves Dean to face him.

"Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to."

"Yeah, well, Dad's an ass," Y/N says. Sam frowns in confusion.

"He never should have said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids."

"No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!"

"Yeah, well, we're not dying, okay? And neither of you. Come on. Sam," Y/N says and pushes Sam onto the bed, but Sam stays seated, reaching up and clutching Y/N's jacket. Her right-hand curls in the fabric of Sam's shoulder. Dean comes to help but Y/N shakes her head.

"No, please! Y/N, Dean, you two are the only ones who can do it. Promise."

"Don't ask that of us," Dean says.

"Y/N, please. You have to promise me." There is a short pause.

"I promise," Y/N says.

"Thanks," Sam reaches up and grabs Y/N's face with both hands "Thank you. You are..."

"All right. Come on," She bats Sam's hands away and shoves him back on the bed. Sam falls back, then turns over on his stomach to plant his face in the pillow, hugging it with both arms. Y/N strokes Sam's hair then goes over to sit on a chair. Dean rubs a hand over his face and looks to Y/N.

"Go and get a drink, I'll watch over him," Y/N says.

[plusanimablog]

Chapter 51: The White Shadow

Several shadowy people in the facility say that the race was a success. They got dem sum good Anima. Here, it's revealed that Fly is also the king's nephew. The figures speculate that if Anima are accepted into society and more importantly, obviously, the military, Lord Greena Aight (Still Fly) would gain more power. Oh sure, Fly has given no indication that he even cares about politics but that "I don't care" attitude of his makes him even more suspicious! Lord Yuriel, the heir to the throne, is still too young to rule so Fly is the obvious candidate. These random old men can't let him rule...

Fly, yawning, is approached by Commander Iggy about the rumors going around the castle. Fly brushes them off, saying he knows that they're saying he's using the Anima to take over Astaria. He thinks it's funny. Iggy angrily says that his carefree attitude makes people suspect him even more (true) but Fly isn't worried. Iggy thinks that Lord Nuoref (probably one of the old men) could have him assassinated though...eh, whatever. Fly is a bit perturbed though. You see, those old men are trying to disrupt his fun. That simply won't do...but first, lunch!

Cooro and the boys are swimming in the lake while Nana watches. She talks to Lyra, wondering how Cooro knows Fly. When she asked him, he said, "I know him...but don't worry about it!". So naturally, Nana is more worried. However, Lyra says she doesn't know either. Cooro was taken to the research facility before she was and, by the time she got there, he was already gone. So she doesn't know their relationship. However, Fly loves Anima research and Cooro is an unique Anima, so Fly probably didn't leave him alone. Nana is a bit worried by that, knowing that Fly did the Anima implants. She points out that none of the group are Anima because they want to be. Lyra simply asks her if she doesn't want to be an Anima, why doesn't she just have the research facility take her Anima from her? Obviously, Nana didn't know that was an option. Lyra explains that they take your Anima and implant it in someone else, creating artificial Anima. Then Lyra tosses more shade, saying that Cooro's backstory is awfully suspicious. He might be lying about being an Anima.

She then hears a carriage coming and runs off, saying goodbye to Nana. Cooro...telling lies? Impossible. At least Nana thinks so. She calls for (shouts for) Husky to come to her, leading him out to a clearing to share her theory that Cooro is a man-made Anima. She knows she's onto something because doesn't immediately yell at her/say he hates women. He himself has had his suspicions about Cooro from the start too, from his acceptance of his Anima to the fact that he was born with it. We know by now that Anima are triggered by trauma so it should be impossible to be born with it, right? The obvious solution? Go to Kilter to investigate...with Cooro. Cooro agrees, saying they'll stay the night at the church...all according to plan. The church may have information on his past that will solve the mystery.

A fisherwoman leads a bunch of kids while heading out for fish while singing a song while wearing hats. Nana spots them and says the song sounds like something Cooro would sing. The woman stops, sees Cooro and excitedly runs over to greet him, saying he's gotten taller. Cooro identifies her as Raine, saying she was the oldest kid at the church. Raine says the Mother Superior will be happy to see him and leads them all back to the church.

The Mother Superior is happy to see him and sees his friends. She explains that Raine came back to work at the church after finishing vocational school. She also heard that Cooro was a fine worker at the Research Facility. Aha! A clue! Anyway, at night, in bed, Nana is still awake. She wants to ask Cooro but the words just won't come out. I mean, he was being evasive earlier when she asked about Fly so I don't blame her. Then everyone sees a bird spirit float above Cooro's bed, thinking it's a ghost. Nana hits it with the ultrasound attack but, being a transparent energy being, it somehow doesn't work. She tries to get Husky to help her follow it but he was knocked out by the scream. She's on her own. She runs after it and it disappears into the floor. Raine comes over to investigate the noise and Nana tells her she saw a ghost. Raine brushes her off, saying this place is protected by God so she crazy, then shoos her off to bed. When she gets back, Cooro is already asleep. End of chapter.

[stormcrow513]

So first off sorry that this came off as calling you hypocritical I definitely didn't mean it as an attack at you at all,

I rebloged from you cause you were there basically, I should have communicated better that I meant it towards the Tumblr community at large, so one last time I apologize for not communicating that properly,

Like I said at the end of it I probably should have worked on making sure I had my thoughts clearer as you bring up some things id consider but wasn't sure how to get out, I mostly rebloged it as was without going over further cause I needed to get it off my head

So bare with me I am having a really bad brain day at the moment and I might not be coming off well

I think we are both in complete alignment that no one should receive hate over fanfiction.

As for the 'disney adult/harry potter adult' thing

Now I completely agree that some people are extremely fucking annoying and inconsiderate about it my ma worked with this woman that put Disney songs on all day long driving everyone nuts and would flip out if people asked her to turn it off cause 'everyone loves Disney'

Like that shits not ok to do to people,

So mocking that entitled attitude that some rock, like the people that had to have the HP game and didn't care that trans people were being hurt

All that is fucked and needs to be called out.

But what I'm getting at is what people find good or bad writing is entirely subjective,

Like one personal example I loved the hell out of King Arthur Legend of the Sword which kinda flopped into none existence compare to The Green Knight I thought I'd love it given my lifetime love of all things Camelot, but I would never watch it again, I just did not like it, but it was very popular.

It's just I don't know how to articulate this

What holds up as an adult with an adult brain depends on your brain, and while there's nothing wrong with not getting someone else's obsession with this or that thing,

I don't understand thinking this thing you like is superior to this thing someone else likes that you don't like

Not saying that's what you're doing,

Just that it's something I see commonly

And while I do have a fairly curated dashboard i try to look outside it to get a wider veiw on things,

Now JK is without a doubt doing harm on an extremely large scale I do not dispute that at all,

And I didn't mean to come across that misogyny is the only issue here just that I think it factors into it,

There is definitely a huge difference in scale.

Gaiman isn't creating and funding rape friendly bills (that I know of)

The way jk is funding bills against trans people

And I am a cis woman looking down the barrel of losing the right to an abortion so I feel the fear of legislation going through that will stripe your right to your body away I literally have had nightmares about being forced to keep a pregnancy,

I in no way am trying to minimize the amount of suffering Jk is causing,

So the amount of people they are hurting IS different

But harm is harm those women he hurt are hurt forever nothing will ever undo it

(And side bar we will never know how many people he's done this to, if I was a victim of his id shut up because I wouldn't want to be harassed and dragged through the Internet for ever,)

And I would personally want his balls ripped off if it was one woman

Again harm is harm irregardless of scale.

There's this thing I read once that comes my view up well 'it doesn't matter if you're drowning in 5 feet of water or 50 drowned is drowned'

From my point of view where I am sitting I am a rape survivor in trying to deal with that trauma I have looked for and listened to so many stories of rape,

and over and over again I see a common theme

rapists get away with it

Rape is treated as a lesser crime

Especially when it's a popular white man that's done it

It just doesn't stop

I'm sorry I wanted to reply back to you immediately because I never meant to make you feel attacked but I need to stop here cause I'm starting to get upset and I don't think I be able to articulate the rest of what I wanted to say, I think I got the most important parts out

And I understand if you blocked me no hard feelings on my end

Edit:

Ok

What I'm really trying and failing to articulate is simply

We are always going to react to feel more viscerally the things that effect us personally

And it's easier to condemn a person we already dislike vs someone who we do

We all have bias and those bias are different then everyone elses

And I think the best way to be kinder to each other when we are speaking about these sort of things is to know what yours are and to remember that you don't know what other peoples bias are

That's all I was trying to say that I'm sad and scared and I wish we could all be kinder going forward and ironically managed to say it in a way that hurt @redshiftsinger

Neil Gaiman is still following the PR playbook

I'm so sick of how Neil Gaiman is continuing to manipulate the conversation while displaying ZERO accountability or remorse.

Do you think him leaking that he's apparently offering to step back from Good Omens Season 3 is a sign that he realizes he fucked up and is trying to make it right? Absolutely not.

What he's doing is making the first moves to launder his reputation so that he can keep making money off of his IP and, eventually, return to the spotlight. All of the overjoyed reactions here and elsewhere are part of that plan.

One part of that Deadline article really stuck out to me.

[Highlighted Text: Deadline understands Gaiman’s offer is not an admission of wrongdoing...

Gaiman’s position is that he denies the allegations and is said to be disturbed by them.]

This is what makes me think that it is actively irresponsible to publicly celebrate or advocate for the continuation of any media project that involves or enriches Gaiman. The fact that Amazon has even announced that Good Omens is on hold shows the credibility of the accusations. And yet Gaiman leaking this information suddenly puts them on the backfoot. "Just take the deal!" cries the fandom. Neil is no longer the bad guy, it's Amazon who are now denying you your comfort show. It's blatant manipulation and it sickens me that it might actually work.

Boosting Good Omens or Sandman or Coraline at this time is not a victimless crime. True, no one person is going to be the difference between Gaiman facing consequences or not. But it's public opinion that will truly determine whether his legacy will be impacted. That's why he's spent a considerable amount of money on the same PR firm as Russell Brand, Prince Andrew, Danny Masterson, and Marilyn Manson. Their specialty is helping rapists get their lives back.

So please think of the long-term implications of breathing a sigh of relief and going back to posting about Good Omens, or signing a petition that gives Gaiman a way out of finally facing the consequences of his own actions.

Yes, none of these shows were 100% made by Gaiman. It sucks that this is going to affect people other than him. But maybe he shouldn't have chosen to sexually abuse at least 5 women and very likely more. In a just world, you fuck around and find out.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

🪶Ukai YN: Karasuno's Support Squad 🪶

Featuring Sugawara Koshi and Asahi Azumane

Sugawara Koshi and Asahi Azumane x Ukai YN

Warnings: Swearing

AN: This is an Anon request!

🌠 Please Like, Reblog and/or Share to help support my writing 🌠

The great Ukai YN 🙌🏻

Honestly what a last name to have 😻

I love that for you!

Seriously tho, being blessed with the last name Ukai and being good at volleyball is your legacy

And thankfully your uncle just so happens to coach the a team of crows 🤩

You get roped into helping but honestly you don't mind

Seriously we love a selfless person ❤️

The first day you show up, you know it's going to be work

But thankfully our amazing YN there to lend the boys a hand

I mean, they need more than a hand YN

Like a whole ass miracle 👀

But anyways, we will try 👏🏻 our 👏🏻 best 👏🏻

From day one, the third years take an instant liking to you

You are essentially another Daichi

Stubborn, loud but supportive

So it's only natural that Suga and Asahi are drawn to you!

Please they love Daichi's feisty attitude 🥰

Suga is the type of person to be forward when he likes someone

So he's going to ask you to help him with his sets, his receives

Basically anything, Suga is not afraid to ask 👏🏻

Asahi on the other hand 👀 well he's nervous around you

Poor bby doesn't know how to act when he likes someone

He's the type to just stand there are stare at you when you talk to him

"Hey Asahi, we need to work on your jump serves?"- YN

Asahi 👉🏻 🧍‍♂️ 👁👄👁

"Hello, earth to Asahi"- YN, frantically waving your arms at this point

Asahi 👉🏻🧍‍♂️ 👁👄👁 got it 👍🏻 🚶‍♂️

He needs to build up the courage YN, give him that

Anyways, the more time you spend with them, the more they like you 🥰

After a few weeks, you are so in tune with Suga and Asahi that you don't even need to communicate

"YN could you-"Suga asking you to receive

"Already on it"- You headed to the other side of the net

Now Uncle Ukai totally knows what's going on here

He was once a teenage boy and pls, he's not stupid 🤚🏻

He might not be able to help Hinata with his English but he can certainly tell that Suga and Asahi have a crush on you

He actually pulls them aside one afternoon to tell them just that

"Listen suga, man bun- I know you like Yn. And before you say anything, I'm fine with it. But just remember, if you hurt them, you'll be permanently warming the bench. Got it?"- Coach Ukai

Suga 👉🏻👍🏻

Asahi 👉🏻😟👍🏻

I mean you can't really ask for two better guys

And most certainly YN could be doing worse

Enter 🎆TORU OIKAWA🎆

Like my transition there 😏

Now Suga and Asahi are not huge fans of Seijoh

Suga doesn't hate Oikawa like Kags does but he's certainly not a fan

And Asahi has like an unspoken beef with Iwaizumi

Please Ace vs Ace? It's definitely a thing

So when interhighs come along, you decide you want to go cheer on your boys

You arrive at the gym and meet up with Yachi and Kiyoko downstairs

"You can come sit with me upstairs YN"- Yachi

"Sounds great! I'm just going to use the bathroom and I'll be right up!"- you, not knowing what's about to happen

Seriously tho, is there any more awkward of an encounter than running into someone after you leave the bathroom?

There isn't

So you exit the bathroom and run smack into two white and green chests

"Oh im sorry"- you, being freaking amazing

"Hey no worries! Say, you look familiar"- the tall, chocolate haired one says

"Umm yeah, my uncle is Coach Ukai from Karasuno"- you, trying to be polite

"Oh so your here tk watch Karasuno"- the dark haired, obviously more attractive one says

"Umm yeah- I was just headed there"- You

"Well we just so happened to be headed in that direction. How about we escorted you?"

"We are?"- the dark haired hottest says

"Ummm sure- I'm YN by the way"- you

"I'm Oikawa and this is Iwa-chan"

"Iwaizumi dumbass"- Iwaizumi says, smacking Oikaea in the back of the head

"Ouch Iwa-chan! Not in front of YN-chan!"- Oikawa, now sulking

Ok then 😐

As soon as you start walking, it's like Karasunos radar goes off

Ukai is running 👇🏻

Too bad Suga and Asahi are faster 🙃

"Yn are you ok?"- Suga, snatching you from between Oiks and Iwa

"I'm fine" 😐

"They didn't hurt you did they YN"- Asahi, glaring 😑

That's right, HES GLARING

"I'm ok guys geez"- YN

Coach Ukai has stopped and is now watching the interaction

He doesn't want to interfere so he's letting his boys handle it 💅🏼

And handle it they do!

"Fome on YN, we'll walk you to the bleachers"- Suga, grabbing your hand

Pls Asahi is still glaring 😫

"We got it from here"- Asahi, yes still glaring

"Alright then- good luck today. You're going to need it"- Oikawa, the smug bastard

"Trust me, they won't need it"- You, grabbing Suga and Asahi's hand side walking away 🚶

"Wow YN, you are really that confident in us huh?"- Asahi

"Nah, I just know how hard you all worked and I believe in you"- You

Say less YN🤚🏻😫

These boys have it in the bag!

Please Suga and Asahi die a little inside

[existslikepristin]

Yexercise

This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd

~~~~~

"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.

"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."

The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."

"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."

You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"

"Oh, Red Velvet?"

"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."

"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."

That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"

"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"

You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.

Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.

Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.

A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.

"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."

Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."

Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."

Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.

"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"

"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.

"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"

"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.

Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"

Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.

Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"

Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."

"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."

You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.

Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"

"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."

"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.

You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"

Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."

She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.

Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."

You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"

Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.

The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.

"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"

Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.

"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"

The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.

For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."

Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."

You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."

Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.

"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.

"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."

Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."

"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.

"Might as well have been! This is the best!"

You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."

That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"

You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.

"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"

Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."

Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"

Yeah. Why don't you?

Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]: 1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.

2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.

3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...

~~~~~

You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.

"I'm going to guess it's you."

"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.

"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."

You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?

"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."

Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."

"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"

Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."

"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.

"H-hey! You know my hip--"

You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.

"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."

"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"

Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.

"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"

Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"

You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"

Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"

The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.

"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.

"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."

Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."

You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.

“You could put me in a bed.”

“Snappy one. I like it.”

Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”

“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”

“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”

You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”

“You can eat me.”

After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”

“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”

“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”

“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”

“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”

Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.

“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”

“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”

“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”

She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”

Smooth, you think.

The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.

It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.

One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.

“Personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.

“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”

“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”

Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.

Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.

“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”

You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.

“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”

Options for Part 2:

1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started. 2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over. 3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.

~~~~~

“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”

Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”

“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”

“I was, you know.”

You hesitate…

“No! I don’t know! What?!”

“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”

“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”

“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”

You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.

“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”

“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s not all I want to do.”

“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”

Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”

“I’m all for it.”

She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.

Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.

You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.

"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.

You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.

You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.

"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."

"Oh. Uh, sure."

"Like, draw blood."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."

You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"

Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."

You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.

Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.

It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.

You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.

Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.

She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.

It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.

“Tired?” you ask anyway.

“I also want to try pet play.”

You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”

“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.

You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”

Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”

“They are varied.”

“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.

“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”

Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.

Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.

Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend! Options for Part 3: 1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before! 2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else? 3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]

~~~~~

“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.

Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”

You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.

“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”

You moan your agreement into another kiss.

“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”

You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.

“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”

So it seems she plans on you working out too.

“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.

You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.

“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”

Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.

When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”

You stand above her, unsure how to respond.

“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”

“Uh, no?”

“What?! That’s like, a classic!”

“Is that one of yours?”

“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”

“You just called your own song a classic.”

Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”

That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”

She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.

“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”

You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.

Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.

Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.

Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.

You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.

“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.

“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”

“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”

“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”

“Why? Didn’t you like that?”

“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”

Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.

“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”

You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”

She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.

Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.

Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.

“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”

You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…

You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.

Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.

“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”

You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.

Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.

You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.

“More?” she asks this time.

“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”

Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”

You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.

Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”

A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”

“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.

“You calling me a liar?”

“Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”

She makes a valid argument.

Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff) Options for Part 4: 1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy! 2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering. 3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice. 4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.

~~~~~

“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”

A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.

“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”

You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”

“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”

Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.

The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.

You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.

You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.

It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?

You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.

“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”

“Ssshut up.”

Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.

There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.

That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.

You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.

You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.

“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”

You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.

“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.

You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.

Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.

Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, “I’m cumming.”

In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.

Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.

On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.

After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.

Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.

You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.

Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”

“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”

Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”

You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.

“Yup. Definitely something like that.”

Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”

She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.

Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!) Options for Part 5: 1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit! 2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here! 3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot! 4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.

~~~~~

“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”

Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”

“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”

“Yeah, which you did.”

“Did you cum?”

“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”

“Do you want to?”

Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”

“Challenge accepted then.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”

Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.

“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”

She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.

“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.

“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”

“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”

Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”

“You nervous?”

“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”

“Uncomfortable maybe?”

“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.

“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”

“Good enough for me.”

“Good enough huh?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”

“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”

You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”

Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”

You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.

The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.

As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.

Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.

“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”

You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”

A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.

As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.

“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”

Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.

“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”

You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.

“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”

Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.

The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.

“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”

Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.

“That’s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”

“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”

Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”

“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”

Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.

Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.

Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.

“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”

Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.

"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"

"Y-yup."

"How many left?"

"Three."

"Five."

"What the fu--"

You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."

She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"

As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."

Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.

Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."

Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.

She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."

"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.

You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."

It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.

She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.

Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.

The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.

Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.

Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.

You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.

When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."

That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…

A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.

"So I keep going, eh?"

"Mmmfffmm."

You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.

Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.

"How do you feel?" you ask.

Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."

You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"

"Don't you dare get off of me."

"Woah! Noted. Nice."

Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."

"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."

"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"

Ummm… is it fair?

Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 6: 1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym! 2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this? 3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now. 4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!

~~~~~

In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”

“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”

“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”

Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”

“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”

“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”

“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”

Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”

You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.

You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.

For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.

Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.

The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.

It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.

You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.

“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.

Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.

Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.

Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.

You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”

“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”

“What do you think was different?”

“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”

“You don’t get your clit played with often?”

“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”

You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.

Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).

Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”

“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”

“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”

The two of you smirk at each other.

“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”

You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”

“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”

Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.

This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 7: 1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off. 2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier… 3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh! 4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!

~~~~~

You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.

"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."

You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.

"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."

You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.

Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.

“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”

“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”

Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.

You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.

Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”

It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”

Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”

Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.

You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”

“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”

The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.

“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”

You easily follow her instructions.

“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”

“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”

“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”

“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”

“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”

Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”

The two of you share a chuckle.

“So how long do I hold this?”

“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”

“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.

She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”

“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”

“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”

Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”

“Shoot.”

“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”

“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”

“Four?”

“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”

“But you’re not into it?”

“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”

You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.

Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”

You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”

“A T? Like the letter T?”

“Exactly.”

“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.

Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”

This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.

“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”

The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]: 1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all. 2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes. 3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.

~~~~~

"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"

Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."

That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.

Right?

"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."

You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"

"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."

"The things people do for the sake of relationships."

"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."

You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."

"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."

"Damn, why?"

"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"

"I'm not a commodity!"

"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.

You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."

"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"

Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"

Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."

You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”

Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”

That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”

“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.

“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”

“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.

There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”

“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”

You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”

“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”

“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”

“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”

Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.

“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”

Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.

“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”

You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.

“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.

Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.

The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 9: 1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her! 2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here. 3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.

~~~~~

You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.

“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.

“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”

Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.

“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.

Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.

“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”

“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”

Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.

“I appreciate the thought.”

You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”

Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

A woman of few words, this one.

With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”

“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”

You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”

Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”

“Either works for me.”

Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”

For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”

You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”

“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.

“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”

The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”

It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on.  You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.

Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.

“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”

You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.

“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”

“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”

Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”

You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”

Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.

“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.

“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”

“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”

“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”

You’re not so sure how you feel about that.

“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”

This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next! Options for Part 10: 1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun! 2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…

~~~~~

You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.

“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”

Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”

At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.

“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.

A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.

“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”

Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”

She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.

As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”

You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”

“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”

“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”

“Your life, huh?”

“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”

“God, she better not be doing that again.”

You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”

“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”

“Something like that, sure.”

Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”

Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”

“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”

You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.

“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”

“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.

“Don’t tempt me like that!”

All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.

Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.

Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.

“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.

“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”

“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”

You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”

Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”

Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”

Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.

You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”

“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.

You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.

THE END

~~~~~

Post-story notes:

Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!

We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)… Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.

As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.

The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious: [Yeri - Workout buddy] [Yeri - Gossip girl]

And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.

Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.

Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.

Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P

Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!

Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).