#just. the level of interaction I have been mutuals with someone on here is about the limits of my social comfort zone

[natjennie]

I think fundamentally I'm just like. bad at being a person. not a Bad Person but Bad at Person, do you know what I mean? we all talk about how humans are a communal, social species but. in general. I don't like other people. I don't like to do things I'm tired and in pain all the time socializing drains me I can't handle tiny upsets in my life. even just my sister asking if I want to play a card game is usually too much social interaction for a day. I'm just not good at like. basic human interaction. I'm not cut out for it.

[tteokdoroki]

the consequences of constellations izuku midoriya ── ᡣ𐭩 ˙ ̟🩰 !!

⋆˙ᝰ about ! you’re in love with your best friend and you’re sleeping with him too… so you count the constellation-like freckles on his back to cope with the idea that he doesn’t love you in the same way. ( 2K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. nsfw, suggestive, smut, angst. characters aged up to 20s, friends with benefits, unrequited love, mutual pining sorta, experimental piece, i wanted to play around with metaphors to do with space, fem!reader, pro hero!deku.

how do you always end up back here?

the answer remains a mystery to you, really. out of all the things that human-kind are capable of, their powers and prettiness, their strength and their stamina — even their knowledge used to invent the space shuttle that traverses the wonders of the uncharted starry abyss…and you still end up here. 

you always end up in the same place — amongst the crumpled linen of pro hero deku’s one bedroom condo. it’s high up enough that it just touches the skyline, it dips past the surface of powder blue skies into the inky black canvas of night to which you find yourself falling victim to sinful touches and muted whispers of pleasure.

it’s the same every time; izuku calls and you answer without hesitation — come rain or shine. you’ll often tumble past the threshold of his apartment with regret and pain pushed to the back of your mind because you’d much rather kiss him and taste the cigarette ash on his tongue in the moment than think logically or have some sense about you. in your world, there’s no better feeling in the world than deku’s masterful, scarred hands spanning out against the base of hour spine or napping out your curves. nothing beats the euphoric high you get from his hips smacking against yours almost in tune with the beat of his heart. 

he pulls you into his orbit. he places himself at the centre of your universe. he fills you up both physically and mentally to the point where every inch of your body and every corner of your heart is overcome with a scorching need for izuku midoriya, like you’ve been engulfed by the sun, it tingles at the tips of your toes and fingers to the top of your head. when he moans your name after every orgasm you share together desire lights up within you like a solar flare — you feel special, desired and maybe even loved.

but this is just sex.

it’s always been just sex, especially to izuku.

there’s a risk in allowing yourself to believe it could ever be anything more, and yet, you can’t stop yourself from indulging in this sweet fantasy every time you end up tangled in the pro hero’s expensive sheets. how could you not when he fucks you like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved. 

playing pretend in your head while he sends shooting stars of ecstasy across your line of sight.

shame and regret always hits you like a truck right after — forcing you to deal with the derailing reality that is loving someone who doesn’t want you back and sleeping with them just to get close enough to that feeling of adoration. it’s bad in the morning, but worse at night after deku has cleaned you up with a tender touch and tucked you in for some sleep — rolled onto his side as his own breathing evens out and his consciousness floats away into the depths of deep, empty space. 

you think that he’s still sleeping when the constellations of honey brown freckles on his back begin to blur and your vision swims from unshed tears and you curl in on yourself. claw marks and crescent moons from your perfectly trimmed nails have left their mark on his golden skin, etched between sun-spotted freckles and a collection of faded battle scars — if you look close enough, one might mistake the surface level wounds you’ve left on deku’s body as an attempt at scratching through the space-time continuum to be closer to him. 

izuku stays awake, hoping that you’ll find the strength to get up and leave him so that he doesn’t  have to turn around and pretend to love you again. though, there’s a selfish wish rooted in the back of his mind, longing for you to stay. for you to play make believe for a little longer, to wish upon the North Star and beg for some kind of grace from god — hoping that izuku midoriya will love you some way, somehow. 

he’ll fake it for as long as he can, if it means being the only person to touch you and hold you and kiss you. he’ll pretend to rip every star in the sky for you and breathe false affection past your lips with every kiss if it means he can replace the pain in your lungs and help you breathe a little easier. because in his own twisted way, izuku cares about your feelings…at least to some degree. he’d rather pretend than end things right here, right now. maybe that’s his saviour complex and his instinctual, dire need to save people who doesn’t need saving. 

maybe it’s because this little arrangement has gone on for far too long, to the point where he can’t tell what hurts you or what doesn’t.

when the bulking pro hero shifts beneath the linen sheets, you hand bolts out to grab him — and, as if you’re protecting the embers of a dying flame, a fading star between your fingers, you pull him back into your chest. grasping onto him, holding out for something. you’re afraid that if you let go, izuku will disappear into space’s abyss and you might never get to have him like this again. another selfish wish. this time from you, not from him. 

don’t go. you want to tell him. don’t fizzle away. you want to say. you know that it’s wrong to want to keep someone you can’t, who won’t love you, around. it’s testament to how much respect you have for yourself, how much self worth you have. which, from the looks of it, is little to none. you feel like you might die without izuku, even if what you have of him is so little. a plant with a crane its neck reaching for even the tiniest bit of sunlight to grow… that’s how you feel about izuku’s…affections for you. even if it’s not real love, you still yearn for it and blossom underneath it. even if you should let him go because you love him, you don’t want to.

out of fear that he may not come back. 

when izuku says your name, whispers it into the black hole of the night — he treats it as if it’s made of gold. the syllables heavy on his tongue, weighing it down with a force of gravity. “are you awake?” he adds, despite feeling the shake of your limbs behind him from crying. he speaks slow and tender, the gravel of the early morning still in his voice. 

your breath hitches warmly against his bare back like a mist over his sun spotted freckles. “no.” a dishonest answer that would have given you away instantly had the evergreen haired hero not already been up and listening to you cry. you sound strained, stuffy and he knows your pretty eyes are probably a putrid red and that there’s snot stains left in tracks on his satin sheets. and maybe, if he loved you like he should — this wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t feel so much guilt to the point where he feels sick to his stomach.

loving you is dangerous territory, like a trip to the uncharted parts of deep dark space. the concept alone is terrifying enough to send icy blood through izuku midoriya’s veins where he’s usually so hopeful and fearless. if he lets himself, for even a second, fall in love with you — there would be a chance your life would change for the worse, a chance that you wouldn’t be able to bare the long nights without him or the weeks where he’s gone. you hardly see deku now, how would you cope when he’s finally yours but too far away from you to touch. you could be in the same bed and he would still be light years away, galaxies ahead of your own train of thought because he is constantly thinking of who and how to save next.

not to mention the very fact that his existence is a threat to your livelihood, with villains lurking around every corner just waiting for a chance to make the number one weak…

…loving izuku midoriya would be like standing still in the middle of a hurricane on jupiter. 

no one would be able to withstand the largest storm in the universe, not even you, and the strength you find in loving izuku. 

still, you’re a liar and izuku knows it. even if he’s not supposed to. the bed creaks beneath his weight as he rolls over to face you, freckled cheek sinking into the cotton hills on his pillows as he finally sets his emerald sights on you. “you must be dreaming then,” he laughs fondly through his nose when he speaks, bringing a thumb up from underneath the duvet to swipe away your drying tears. the ones you tried so desperately to hide. water doesn’t fall in out space, it drifts endlessly and becomes a liquid with no form. izuku wishes you weren’t crying over him. 

shrugging, you lean into the man’s touch, letting deku cup your cheeks and trace your smile lines that don’t seem so smiley anymore. the early morning moonlight ( the sun has yet to rise ), illuminates the stars in his mossy eyes that practically plead for you to let go, and your heart lurches painfully. he feels sorry for you. “i hope so.” comes your tired whisper. embarrassed and heartbroken, you look away and tuck your face under the duvet — chin brushing your naked shoulders, skin bare and bitten and bruised from the night before. “if i am, i don’t want to wake up.” 

“what happens in your dreams?” capturing your chin between his fingers, izuku tilts your gaze over to him — inquisitive, cautious as if you’re an alien life form and he’s trying his best not to scare you away. he doesn’t quite understand you, why you keep returning to him , only to find yourself naked, vulnerable and heartbroken the next day. 

“you love me back, i think. we’re more than what we are right now.”

bitter selfishness tacks itself to the back of your throat like bile — you know that you’re being unkind and greedy to izuku by voicing your thoughts out loud, begging him for even the tiniest slither of love but what’s worse is the lack of compassion for yourself. the endless torture you inflict on your being just waiting for the number one hero to maybe love you back. 

in away, it makes you deserving of one another. whatever it is that the two of you have is no healthier than a pack of cheap cigarettes from the combini at the top of the road. a nicotine addiction that neither of you seem to be able to quit. humming into the moonlit void, deku brushes a thumb over your streaked, pudgy cheek — tracing the tear stains and the tracks left by the lines in the pillowcase. 

his eyes shimmer like the Milky Way on a clear night as he looks at you, strands of longing twisting within the vibrant green flecks in midoriya’s eyes. it must be lonely for him out there — he’s in another universe of his own and you can hardly compare to or comprehend it. “are you still dreaming?” he asks.

reaching up, you grab his wrist from underneath the covers — feeling his pulse beat steadily underneath the pad of your thumb. “i hope so.” you repeat your words from earlier, lashes fluttering against your cheeks — heart pounding. 

“then i’ll love you how you like,” midoriya agrees, masking his sadness with his signature hero smile. the one he uses to let the people he saves know that everything will be okay. even when it’s not. izuku treats you like a damsel in distress and maybe you are. you need saving from yourself, from him and he knows it. you both do. “at least until you wake up.” 

nodding, you close your eyes and lock off the rest of your senses — listening to only the sounds your steady breathing mingling in your own personal pocket of space. time freezes for the two of you, you don’t know how many light years it’s been before you speak again — but izuku’s warmth is still there, still enveloping you like the brilliant rays of the sun at the centre of your universe. he doesn’t dare cast you out into the icy cold of space. not yet.

“then i’ll try to keep dreaming, i’m not ready to wake up just yet.” comes your quiet voice as you lean forward to press your forehead against izuku’s freckled one.

not yet.

he exhales, deep and sad, but cups your face a little tighter and draws you in a little closer. “me either, not yet.” 

not yet. together, wrapped up in one another, the two of you decide that you'll stay lost in the web of constellations for a little bit longer. 

not yet.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[thatbadadvice]

Dear Advisor,

I tend to be a very reserved and shy person so making friends is super hard. Recently I’ve been wanting to socialize more , but I genuinely don’t know how. Is there any advice that you have that can make me look more approachable and not be scared to talk to people. I’m so stressed about being alone and not having any friends, but I just find it so hard to go up to people and make a conversation. I tried once but it became super awkward. I just really need good advice from someone on how to approach a person and continue a conversation.

Dear Awkward Anonymous,

It would be so easy to get into a whole deep let's-skeetshoot-therapy-on-the-internet session and try to help a total stranger unpack all of the GA-FUCKING-ZILLION ways in which social awkwardness shows up in a person's life. It seems easy, and it even seems meaningful and worthwhile, but to do so I would have to presume a bunch about your life, and make a bunch of assumptions about the ways in which my own experiences maybe/probably track with yours, and it would be a whole big wank-fest, and frankly ... it would be awkward. I'd be like you, standing there at the party, hoping that what I'm saying resonates or lands or even vaguely tracks with anything a stranger has ever known or experienced, presuming (probably rightly!) that it doesn't, and then flailing and blaming myself when I didn't emerge from the interaction with all the world's gold stars.

So here's what: stop talking to other people as a primary social occupation. Going up to people and just talking is fucking terrifying. The Bad Advisor says this as a Certified Extrovert™ who rarely shuts the fuck up.

Instead, find a thing to do with other people that involves some sort of task or goal or activity. Talk about the thing you're doing together, when you're doing it. If it feels okay, maybe introduce one or two of your own relatable-to-the-activity experiences in the process. See who picks up on it. Ask the people who pick up on it genuinely interested questions in response. This is what we awkward people call: engineering a conversation. It is the way, I am told, humans make connections with other humans. I have seen it work in my own life.

Depending on where you live and your ability level and skill set, I bet you have some options! You could seek out an open board game night, pub quiz session, knitting/quilting circle, or mutual aid meetup that's looking for volunteers. Especially look for social activities with strangers that involve a dedicated, pre-prescribed activity (such as a hiking or mall-walking group, stuffing envelopes for a political candidate or cause you care about, planting trees at your local park, or tasting tea/wine/beer/etc.). (Somebody is going to say join a ballroom dancing club or suchlike; I am personally terrified of this, but if you have a higher tolerance for strangers touching you and fewer than two left feet: it's literally an option. Line-dancing, on the other hand ... absofuckinglutely.)

Even if what's available in your area isn't your precise and specific interest, it might be worthwhile to check out something you are decidedly meh about -- you might not be the only meh person there. You can bond over shit that's boring or shitty with other people who find it boring or shitty! Some of my best friends, arguably my very best friends, came out of experiences we mutually loathed or found at least moderately and mutually miserable.

Consider especially finding an activity where you yourself are the manager of operations and/or have a designated task to take care of that is unique to your position! This doesn't have to be complicated or skill-dependent; can you become a voter registrar in your area? Well, bam! You've got paperwork people have to fill out and a good reason to jibber-jabber with folks who have to ask you the questions. Other ideas: join your local neighborhood association board, become a notary public, or see if your local pet rescue is looking for intake line volunteers. Do you have a trustworthy, especially outgoing friend who might agree to play "social glue" for you a couple of times at their activity-centric events? Make it explicit! Ask them if they'll play friendly wing-person for you at their D&D game, fantasy sports league, or some such.

Alternately: Do you have a unique and fun and shareable skillset you can share with others? Are you pretty good at drawing, programming? Simply a font of endless Merlin or NFL or Real Housewives knowledge? You might start a local Discord or other online social group to discuss and share your interests, then move it to the real world in a few weeks once folks get comfortable. You get the idea.

Most of all: Look for stuff that has more-than-just-talking opportunities available outside the designated group jam for you to maintain connections. Perhaps a group chat, a Discord, a Slack, what-have-you, where you can take more time to consider and draft your responses and posts? Connections with humans get made a thousand ways, and talking raw-dog with strangers is but one.

It takes a true social unicorn to be simply good at talking and only talking to other people. There are some of these one-horned wonders out there, to be sure — but let me assure you that the vast majority of folks want to be accepted and seen just as much as you do, and they're staring at the ceiling at night thinking just as much (more, probably) about all the weird, wonky shit they themselves threw at you than they are anything you ever said to them.

[dorabellingham]

Stars

warnings: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you, a hollywood actress, need to shoot an underwear campaign with him.

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You, or rather Y/n Marx, were at the height of your career. You were the most sought-after actress in Hollywood, winning awards like the Oscar and the Golden Globe, even though you were so young. Your performances in romance films, dramas and comedies have made you a global icon. Your ability to transform into any role and the charisma you exuded on camera made you an unbeatable force in the film industry. The english actress, who won hearts all over the world, has been everywhere: red carpets, magazine covers and, now, in a campaign for Skims, a renowned fashion brand. You were used to being the center of attention, but this campaign would be different. It wouldn't just be about you.

For the first time, you would share stardom with someone, and that someone was none other than Jude Bellingham, one of the most promising football players in the world and an idol in Europe. You had heard about him several times through the mutual friend you had been friends with since the days when you were still a young rising star.

Jude was, in addition to being a football star, a charismatic man, with a legion of fans around the world. He had a relaxed and natural way that captivated anyone, whether on the field or off. You've never met him in person, but his name always comes up in conversations with your friend. You exchanged messages here and there, but nothing very significant... Until that moment.

Campaign day has arrived. The set was located in a stunning mansion in Los Angeles, filled with luxurious environments and stunning views. Upon arrival, you were greeted with the usual treatment: a team of makeup artists, stylists and assistants, all ready to make sure you looked perfect for the photos. You, as always, remained calm and professional, greeting everyone with your warm smile. However, the player's name echoed in the set. You knew he was there too, but the idea that you would finally meet in person left a slight feeling in your stomach.

Y/n Marx wasn't easily intimidated, but something about this encounter made you feel different. Maybe it was because, in all your fame and success, you'd never really taken the time to get to know someone in such a...sincere way. And Jude was someone who shared that pressure of fame, someone who perhaps understood it on a deeper level.

While you were in the dressing room, you caught a commotion coming from the main entrance. It was him.

—Jude has arrived!

The makeup artist commented casually.

You looked in the mirror, taking in your impeccably prepared reflection for the cameras, but your heart started to beat a little faster. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the first interaction.

When you finally returned to the set, you were on your back, adjusting your dress for the first photo. He heard footsteps and then Bukayo's familiar voice.

—Y/n, this here is Jude, but I'm sure you already know each other because I talk about him so much.

He joked, with that typical smile that always warmed up any room.

You slowly turned around and met Jude's eyes for the first time. It was something beyond what you expected. His photos on social media didn't do justice to the presence he exuded in person. Tall, with an easy smile, and with that look that mixed curiosity and a certain charm. You stared at each other for a moment, the world around you seemed to slow down.

—I finally meet you in person!

Jude said, extending his hand to you with a smile that revealed both tranquility and slight nervousness.

—Yes, finally! —You replied, with a soft laugh, accepting the handshake. —Saka don't stop talk about you.

The touch of your hands seems to last a little longer than necessary. There was something about the energy between you, something neither of you expected.

The photo session began, and the first poses were relaxed, with the two laughing and interacting as if they were already old friends. Jude, despite being more used to football pitches than fashion cameras, surprised everyone with his ease. He moves naturally, his athletic body perfectly complementing the campaign's aesthetic.

You, on the other hand, were in your comfort zone, but something about the man's presence made you feel vulnerable, in the best of ways. There was something genuine about him that took her out of her usual impeccable posture. At times, you found yourself actually laughing, something rare on such controlled film sets.

After a few hours of photos and videos, the team took a break. You turned around in the rest area, both of you with a bottle of water in your hands, still adjusting your costumes.

—You're really good at this.

You commented, breaking the silence as you sat next to him on the white sofa that decorated the set.

—I was a little nervous at first.... —He admitted, shrugging. —This isn't exactly my field, you know?

—It doesn't even seem like it! —You laughed. —You look very natural.

You were silent for a moment, just watching the team move around. Then, Jude looked at you, his gaze more serious this time.

—You are much more reserved than I expected. —He said, with a sincerity that caught her by surprise. —I always see you on screen, so confident, but you have this way... different in person.

You blurted out, a little shy.

—It's different being in front of the camera as Y/N Marx and just being Y/n, you know? —You confessed, something you don't usually do with strangers. —People don't always understand that.

—I understand. —He replied, with a simplicity that made your heart quicken. —I think we have that in common.

The look between you lasted longer than expected, a silent exchange of understanding that was interrupted when Bukayo appeared out of nowhere, throwing a pillow at the two of you.

—Hey, I don't care about a romantic atmosphere on the set!!! —Bukayo joked, laughing loudly. —Come on, you still have a few more photos to take.

The rest of the day passed quickly, but that exchange of looks between you was recorded in both of your minds. When the photo session ended, and the sun was already setting, you said goodbye, but with a feeling that this meeting would not be the last.

As you got into the car that would take you back to the hotel, you couldn't help the smile that insisted on appearing on your lips. Jude also looked different. You both knew something special had happened on that set, something that no camera had ever fully captured, but that they would both feel for a long time.

And so began the love story between a Hollywood star and a world football icon.

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Both being in the NSFW content creation sphere, you and Yunho find a mutually beneficial piece of content to film. Pairing: NSFW Audio Creator!Yunho x Only Fans Creator!reader Tropes: Adult Content creator au, friends with benefits au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, the reader is smaller than Yunho by a good amount Smut Warnings: recorded sex, blindfolding, auralism, protected sex, implications of a hand kink, use of the name “daddy”, pet names, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, ripping clothing Word Count: 2,416 Host Tag: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye February Filth Masterlist Before You Interact

Listen to ♡ Often by The Weekend

“You’re sure you’re not going to get kidnapped?” Yeri checks for the tenth time.

“I’m sure!” You laugh, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve talked with him before, too, several times. You know Yunho and I are friends.”

Yeri’s jaw falls to the floor. You meet her eyes through your mirror after you finish fixing your makeup. You look at her as if you’ve just said the most mundane sentence in the world. On the other hand, she looks as if you just told her you’re not actually who you told her you are.

“You mean to tell me–”

“I haven’t fucked him. Not in the literal sense, at least.” You explain, “We’ve fucked around in DMs before a few times but nothing in person yet. We’re genuinely friends, too, it’s not just about our jobs. He’s seen me. I’ve seen him. We’re both being safe. Now go back to your own apartment unless you want to witness something you probably don’t want to.”

She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. You laugh at her action and start walking her toward your front door. You start to pull your door open to let her out when she starts to sound like a broken record.

“Seriously, if you think he might–”

She’s cut off by someone clearing their throat. She turns around, and you look up. He’s right in the doorway, looking devastatingly handsome. Yeri buttons her lip and slips past him. You bid her goodbye as she’s already halfway to the elevator.

“Come on in.” You smile at the tall man, moving to let him in.

“It’s nice to see you in person finally.” He smiles

You nod, mouth suddenly dry, “I hope it wasn’t too bad of a trip here.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “It was actually really nice. It’s beautiful out.”

You’ve been friends online for a while now, and this sudden awkward tension is almost suffocating. Yunho smiles at you and takes your hand in his. You look at your connected hands before looking back up to his face. You’ve seen him before in pictures you exchanged in the past. Some of them are more distracting than others. Seeing him in person seems to create a whole new level of devastation for your panties and your heart at the same time.

He drops your hand and leans against a bookshelf at the edge of your entryway. He’s nearly the same height as it. You need a stool to reach the top shelf of it. Now you take in just how tall he is. You knew he was tall. Knowing a fact versus seeing it is so different. You already know his cock is big too. You’ve been blessed to see it several times. Your mind starts to wander to your activities planned for the afternoon.

“You okay?” Yunho’s eyes fill with concern, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. We can just hang out.”

“No, no,” you chuckle, “I just forgot how… big you are…” You admit.

Yunho smirks as he leans over you while leaning against the bookshelves. You gulp at the sight.

“Did you, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

Your mouth goes dry again, trying to find a proper response. You knew damn well what the plan was walking into today. Both of you had planned out the entire scene in depth to ensure safety and quality content for your followers. Hearing his voice, seeing that stupidly hot smirk, everything about him renders you speechless.

“Sweetheart?” He calls again, “You still with me?”

You nod, “Just… thinking…”

“About?” He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath against your lips.

“We have a bit of content to film, and–” You stop yourself and stare at his lips for a moment.

“And?” He questions.

Your gaze stays fixated on his lips, “And… I fucking need you right now.”

Yunho doesn’t waste a moment closing the gap between you. The way he pulls you tight against him, combined with the heat of the kiss, makes your knees buckle. You stand there for a while, just kissing him. Your neck hurts a bit from stretching up to reach him, though you’re sure he is hurting more from craning down. By the time you pull away, your lips are puffy and wet with spit. His aren’t in much better condition; he has a bit of your lipgloss smeared near his own lips.

“Is your camera all set up?” He asks, his voice slightly raspier than earlier.

“Mm,” you hum, “You’re okay with your face being on camera?”

“We already talked about that.” He reminds you, “It’s okay. My face isn’t fully a secret to my audience.”

You take his hand in yours again and guide him toward your room. As you had told him before, your camera is already set up in front of your bed. You reach over and press record before you even say another word to him. As much as you’d love to get wrecked by him now, you know the goal is to get content. Your high-quality microphone is already connected and tested to ensure it gets the best recording it can. After all, it’s not just being uploaded to your Only Fans. The audio from today is being edited and uploaded to Yunho’s NSFW audio subscription as well. Short free clips are going to be posted on both of your Twitter accounts in addition to helping with the traction. Before you get in the view of the camera, you slip your shorts off from under your oversized T-shirt. Per the agreed-upon scene, you’re playing the role of his pretty little stay-at-home girlfriend and won’t be needing pants if you’re at home all day.

“You ready, princess?”

You know he’s put on his acting, but he still searches for any uncertainty in your eyes.

“I’m ready, Daddy.” you respond, voice sweet and needy.

Despite neither of you truly having a daddy kink, you both agreed to that title for Yunho to both protect his identity and play into the content you both know people want. You sit on the side of your bed and look up at him with wide, faux-innocent eyes. Yunho hums and leans down to cage you against the bed. One hand slips back a bit to grab a silk tie just behind you. He pulls it off of the bed and leans back a bit to hold it between you.

“We’re gonna play a little game, okay?”

You nod, “Will I get to feel you?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll feel me. You just won’t see a damn thing.”

Yunho leans forward again and kisses you sloppily. The wet sounds of your kiss are enough to make you rub your thighs together. He, of course, notices it and grips your thigh with his other hand. Massaging the flesh, he pushes your oversized shirt up to expose your soaked panties. He guides you back further until you’re nearly laid down. He drops the tie just long enough to pull the shirt off of your body. You’re only left in your panties while he’s fully clothed. That doesn’t last long, though. He pulls his own shirt off. You appreciate his toned body and end up fixated on the noticeable bulge under his sweats. You gulp before meeting his eyes again.

“Can’t I suck you off for a bit? I wanna be a good girl for you.”

Yunho gives you an endearing smile, holding your chin in his hand, “That’s so sweet of you, baby. As much as Daddy would love that, I have other plans for us today. I’m gonna blindfold you now, okay? You know our cues.”

“Colors, if I can speak. If not, two taps for a break and three for a full stop.”

He kisses you again, “That’s my girl.”

It’s for the camera, you know that. Still, it doesn’t stop you from nearly melting at the praise. He takes the black silk tie and carefully secures it around your head, checking to make sure it’s not too loose or tight. You feel him guide you to lie down on your bed and push your thighs apart to be flat across the bed as well. Every sound sounds so vivid. The soft sound of his hands moving across the bedding, the gentle sounds of his breath by your ear, even the light creaking of your bed as he puts his full body weight on it. A gasp escapes your lips as he leaves more wet kisses along your throat. The noises he makes as he kisses you while letting his hands wander are enough to make your panties even more soaked than they previously were.

“You’re so jumpy, baby.” He chuckles, “Relax, let me make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” you whine, bucking your hips when his hand trails along your inner thigh.

“Yes, princess?”

You gasp when his kisses reach your chest, “Need–” 

You let out a broken whine when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples. His fingers lightly trail up and down your thighs, intentionally skipping over the place you need him most. Each time you buck your hips toward his touch, he lightly nips at your chest. The lack of vision only heightens your other senses more. Each time he so much as grazes your body, you jolt in reaction. Each word he says and each noise he makes sends you into another plane of existence.

You feel his body pull away from you, leaving behind a waft of his addictive scent. You feel as he pulls your panties to the side and strokes through your folds. The squelching sounds that come from your lower lips are loud. Each rub against your clit, each time his pretty, long fingers push into you, you feel yourself crave him more. He fucks you on his fingers for a while. His thumb presses perfectly against your clit while two of his other fingers thrust in and out of you at a pace that makes you see stars. His unoccupied hand holds one of your thighs down. His fingers dig into your skin in a way that may leave bruises, not that you mind at all.

“You hear that, sweetheart? You’re so fucking wet. What’s got you such a wreck? Hmm?”

“Daddy, I– fuck! Everything, it’s everything!”

“Everything? It’s how you keep whining and moaning while I finger your pretty little pussy, the way I’m speaking to you, the fact that you can’t see a damn thing. You’re at my mercy, sweetheart.”

You want to close your thighs so badly due to the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. A light slap on your thigh stops your action. A moment later, Yunho pulls his fingers from inside you, and you feel his weight lift off of the bed. The sound of foil ripping fills the space, followed by a low, growly groan. Though you can’t see it, you know Yunho kept his promise to put a condom on.

“Daddy,” your voice wavers with uncertainty.

You feel his hand rest against your waist, “It’s okay, princess. Daddy didn’t leave you all alone. I’m right here.”

The small gesture of reassurance makes your heart flutter for a brief moment. You feel the bed sink again and feel his bare skin against yours. He places a sweet kiss against your lips and whispers a quick check-in.

“You want Daddy to fuck you now?”

“Please, want Daddy’s cock, please.” You whine.

You feel the head of his cock rubs through your folds a few times before pushing in. Your panties are still pushed to the side, though they aren’t terribly in the way. Yunho continues to shower you with filthy comments and praises. Your hands fly forward and feel their way to his hair. Pulling him forward more, you pull him into another sloppy kiss. His thrusts are loud, and the squelching sound of your pussy is louder than it was with just his fingers. Your moans are muffled slightly by his kisses, but still, they’re loud. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it hard to know exactly what is happening.

“Wanna see you.” You request.

“My princess wants to see me now? I thought you liked not knowing what’s coming.” He teases.

“I- I do, but I wanna see Daddy now. Please?”

Yunho gives a particularly punctuated thrust, “Alright, princess, pick up your head a little, and I’ll take it off.”

You do as he says, and light floods your field of view a split second later. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light. Once they do, you’re met with the sight of Yunho above you, sat up straight on his knees as he thrusts into you. He has a heated, lust-driven look in his eyes that brings you closer to your orgasm.

“Are you attached to these panties, baby?”

You shake your head at his question. A moment later, the telltale sign of clothing ripping fills the room. You break eye contact for a moment to see that he ripped the seat of your panties and was seconds away from ripping the waistband, too. Yunho smirked at you and leaned in close to your ear.

“I’ll buy you a new pair later, or I’ll pay for you to get some new ones.”

“Daddy, wanna– gonna–”

You’re not on Earth anymore. Your mind is so far gone, lost in the obsession you’ve discovered you have with his voice and the filthy, debauched noises being created in the space. In all honesty, you didn’t even process what he just said to you. All you can think about is the fact that you’re mere moments from your orgasm.

“Pretty baby wants to cum?” He asks, gripping onto your now bare hips.

“Please,” small tears form in your eyes, “Please, please!”

Yunho smirks at you again, “Cum.”

Your orgasm rips through you, stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before. Yunho’s thrusts grow stronger and faster. As you ride out your high, he reaches his own. He releases his load into the condom with a loud groan. His eyebrows furrowed together while his eyes remain locked on your own. You both start to fall from cloud nine around the same moment. Yunho leans down to hover above you and places a small kiss against your collarbone.

“You did such a good job, pretty girl. I’m so proud of you.”

That last comment wasn’t for the camera. That was specifically for you.

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[cuppajj]

I’m gonna close the askbox soon for the time being, I’m getting a little overwhelmed and there have been some recent instances that have made me feel a little uncomfortable. Vent below but fair warning I get a little critical

TL;DR: you are not entitled to my askbox responses, please do not talk at me in tumblr dms, I am not your friend, please don’t come to me seeking personal validation and please do not be parasocial with me

This may sound extreme to some of you, but I want you to know that even though my askbox is open for people to ask me questions about crk and baau, there is no guarantee that I will answer them. I am not obligated to answer everyone’s ask because at the end of the day it’s down to my comfort level and if I feel like answering a specific ask at all, and for some asks I haven’t felt like I can gain much mutual substance from it. I can hear some people out but I don’t want this blog to turn into a place where you can say anything and be guaranteed a response like this is a DM. I get overwhelmed pretty easily if I feel like I’m being talked at and not talked to. I have had instances where a single person will send me a DM or ask everytime moment I mention something they like, but saying nothing in that ask that I can make an answer to. I highly discourage this behavior for my askbox specifically, as I grow generally uncomfortable because I feel like I’m being talked at. And feeling like im being talked at and not talked to is a huge ick of mine spurred by real life experiences.

And no I am highly unlikely to post privately because I barely use that feature, and then it just goes back to feeling like a DM which I don’t want. I don’t want to open up cans of worms with my askbox. I don’t want people to flood my inbox with X reader requests simply because I answered one ask related to it, I don’t want people to flood my inbox talking about themselves and their lives because I answered a few asks related to it. I don’t want to set any more impressions than I already have, also why i have stopped answering asks like them.

I also just want to say that, to avoid fostering parasocial relationships, I hardly know most of you people, and most of you aren’t my mutuals and friends. I appreciate your support and friendliness but I have a fine line between friend and follower. I don’t make friends through DM spam where someone who i barely know and haven’t interacted with talks about themself to me. I also am not here as an approval machine to validate people’s opinions or thoughts. I feel like some people have been growing parasocial with me which is deeply unsettling. Please do not DM me with random things unless we’ve previously interacted as tumblr and especially discord friends. I only accept questions asking for help, comments about specific things related to me, and general notices about things I should be aware of, like someone stealing my art. Please don’t expect long and/or consistent conversations with me if we are not mutuals and especially if we are not friends. And please do not be someone I barely know coming to me seeking personal validation from me.

I should also add that mutual in this instance means mutual follower, not mutual friend. I see mutual on the same definition as an acquaintance in most instances. I consider us friends if both of us are calling each other friends.

So this means do not send me pictures of you or your pets. I will see it but I am very likely not going to answer.

For BAAU specific questions, I have also had people ask me about why I haven’t answered them and it goes back to A). Their questions may have already been answered previously and B, most importantly,) I don’t answer asks I don’t feel like answering. This latter point is v important to me because the last thing I want is for people to feel entitled to know certain things about my AU. I am, for the most part, a one person team working on this, and I decide what’s known and what’s not. If I feel like something isn’t worth answering for whatever reason I feel, I will not answer it. I’m saying this now to—hopefully—lessen the chance of people expecting responses from me.

Edit: However i can also not answer an ask simply because I am waiting for a good time to respond. Whether that be with a drawing or, for baau specifically, when I am ready to share lore pertaining to it.

Edit 2: I know I can respond quickly at times but the speed of my responses should not be treated as a constant, nor indicative of my interest or engagement as a whole.

Again i greatly appreciate how much support I get, and how many people are interested in my AU and what I have to say, but i want to keep the barrier between myself, my friends, and everyone else. I hope this humbles some of you and I hope you can still enjoy my blog and au as they are, but I want to say here and now that I am someone with their own comfort levels, expectations, and thoughts. I still encourage people to send in asks but I want to set the expectation that I am more likely to answer questions/comments about my au or art, and other asks where I feel like a mutual part of the discussion. But even still I can get rid of asks if I feel like they aren’t needed.

Most of you are cool people who im glad to see in my notes, comment sections, and inboxes, but I also respect people who have some consideration for myself as well. Not everyone knows what and what doesn’t make me uncomfortable which is why I’m saying this now. I hope that everyone here continues to be aware and respectful, and most importantly, patient and understanding.

If you read all of this, thank you.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!reader

Part 16: All Along the Watchtower

series masterlist playlist

18+ONLY

There is a lot of healing in this chapter, some smut and allusions to smut, alcohol consumption, lots of love, but also some new characters drop into the scene and there will be some angst at the end. If you have come this far in the story, you know what to expect. There will be song lyrics from the band Tool. Steve with an OC character. Mention of healing wounds, a dead body, chemo treatments, and plenty of unprotected sex.

word count: 6.8k

a/n: I mentioned in a post the other day that, instead of 2 final chapters of 10-11k, that I'd be splitting them up and doing four more posts with less words, so there will be several more parts to come. I know it's been almost 2 months since the last chapter, but I'm looking forward to giving this most of my attention for the rest of the year. I have so much love for those of you who are still with me.

"There must be some kind of way outta here Said the joker to the thief There's too much confusion I can't get no relief..."

-- Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower

The aftermath of everything that conspired in the parking lot that night was a whirlwind.

There were way too many witnesses for the cops not to get involved, but there was also an underlying mutual respect for an outlaw level of revenge justice when someone hurts one of your own.  When bystanders and club members were questioned as to who made the final killshot, there was a contagious memory loss that made everyone shrug and shake their heads. 

Collectively, no one saw anything.

Everyone saw Wayne, but also—no they did not.

Wayne was going through chemo treatments and hadn’t been an active member of the club for years; no one in law enforcement would ever expect him to be involved, and everyone silently agreed to keep it that way. 

Charlene caught a stray bullet in the shoulder, and even lied straight-faced to the police about what had happened.  She waited for someone to blame her, somehow, for Craig’s death, but no one pointed fingers, they all just acted like their memories had been erased.  Inside the ambulance on the gurney, she caught Steve looking across the parking lot at her just before the EMT’s shut the doors.  His expression remained unresponsive, but he stood and watched the vehicle leave the premises before turning to limp over to Astrid’s truck.

Steve was not in great shape, either, and he almost fell twice when he first tried to stand.  Robin caught him on the second stumble and had him brace his arm around her shoulders.  The EMT’s tried to get Steve to the hospital, but he refused.  Partially because he hated hospitals, and also because there’s no way he could afford a meat wagon escort, let alone whatever bill he racked up while in their care.  A handful of ibuprofen, a bag of frozen peas, and some patched together magic from Astrid’s medical bag would have to do.  

Before the medics arrived, Eddie grabbed his leather jacket out of one of the saddlebags on his bike and had it wrapped around your shoulders as he pinned you close to him with both arms, as tight as he could without hurting you.  “Baby baby baby I’m here, I’m here…never gonna let you go…” he hushed it over and over, trying to calm himself as much as you.  You found his eyes were wet when he tipped your chin up gently with his finger, pressing kisses across your skin that was sprinkled with dried blood.  He parted your mouth with his tongue, just slightly, letting it graze your top lip.  His voice trembled when he said he loved you before sealing the words with another soft kiss.  

Still observing from the steps of the hotel, Melanie watched the interaction between you and Eddie, and the realization that he would never be hers ever again finally sank in, hitting the pit of her stomach like a lead weight.

Eddie sat next to you on the back of Hopper’s Bronco and held your hand while you told the Chief about your abduction.  Anger curled Eddie’s lip when you recited the horrific events, and his eyes narrowed on Craig getting zipped into a body bag, wishing it were possible to kill someone for a second time.  

You sprained your ankle, and had a few surface cuts and bruises, but most of your trauma was internal.  You told Eddie you were fine, but he wouldn’t rest until the EMT’s checked you out.

Eddie got the shower temperature at your place just right before helping you in with him so that he could gently wash the blood from your face and shampoo your hair.  He took his time soaping every part of you; even had you put all of your weight on him so he could clean your feet with meticulous precision, being extra careful with your bad ankle.  He wanted every trace of Craig and all that had happened to be washed away.  You swept his wet hair back from his face as he stood to full height, and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring his forehead to yours.  

Things got slippery and before you knew it, you were moving Eddie’s hand down between your legs as the steam rose up around you.  He didn’t think you’d be ready, not after such a traumatic experience, but then he could feel the slick that had nothing to do with shower water.  He ran his big, calloused fingers through your folds, and then worked that button at the top of your slit until it hardened under his fingertips.

You clung to him, letting go of erotic sighs between deep, sensual kisses that felt like you needed each other’s oxygen to survive.  “I’ve missed you so much,” you said into the crook of his neck, grabbing the hard curve of his cock to pump at the tip.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he hushed, dipping two of his fingers inside to give your muscles something to clench around.  

A few deep thrusts and then he spun you around, holding you tight so that you wouldn’t slip.  The fingers of one hand found your clit again, rolling in circles there, while his other hand came up to cup your breast and pluck at your nipple.  You shuddered and tilted your head back so he could suck and nibble at your throat.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.  “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you mine.”

You writhed in his arms, reaching back to hold his head, while his fingers kept pace and your cunt fluttered.  You could feel your knees giving way.

“That’s right, my baby, give it all to me.”

“Fuck!” One more whimper and the orgasm shattered you, making you tremble and sink against him.  The thought never occurred to  you that you would fall because he had you locked so tight in his embrace.

His hard length rested between your asscheeks, and you turned around to take it into your hand and face him.  He held your chin and found your mouth again, pitching his hips into your hand until ropes of his cum were shooting against your leg and into the tub.  You took the head of his cock and rubbed it along your slit to spread his seed there, and then took your fingers into  your mouth and sucked them clean. Eddie groaned at the sight, grabbing your face again to kiss you long and hard.

The rest of the sex that night was slow and tender, full of breathy words of devotion as your bodies met and became one.  Fingers laced, and your legs wrapped around him. Eddie rolled his hips so that you could feel every inch of him inside of you, and you matched his movements, watching his eyes flutter before they opened to meet yours again, lips grazing.  For a moment, it was hard to tell where he ended and you began, and you wanted to stay like that forever.

Even though Craig was gone, Eddie was still reluctant to leave you, and he came by several times a day while he was working the tow truck.  He brought you soup from the diner, and picked up a potted plant, because he didn’t want you to have to watch flowers die in a vase.  He even got special tuna treats for Charlie and stopped off to rent videos for you to watch with you on the couch after he showered and returned from his place.  

Besides the time it took to talk to Katie and let her know what happened before she went over to Robin’s, Eddie was the only person you interacted with for the week before it was time to go back to work.  You tried to return sooner, but Shana refused.  You needed the loud music and the crowds of the Velvet Hammer, they were such a welcome distraction from your thoughts.  

It was a part of Eddie’s routine to buy groceries for Wayne every so often, now that he didn’t have as much energy because of chemo, much like Wayne used to do for him back when he was a kid, and his dad would disappear for months at a time.  You pulled together the ingredients for one of your grandmother’s favorite casserole dishes and made dinner for them both at the trailer one night, sipping on wine, and listening to your boyfriend and his uncle reminisce on stories from back in the day. 

You were taking everyone’s dishes to the sink when you heard Wayne say to Eddie, “that one is a keeper,” and it made your eyes water, for whatever reason.  Maybe because you know how much his uncle’s opinion meant to him.

—----

Steve had to be back at work the same night as you, and an hour before, Astrid straddled his lap in one of her silk robes to apply some ointment on his face while he ran his scarred hands up and down her bare thighs.  Her skin was soft and smelled of cocoa butter, and her long, curly hair draped over their shoulders like a curtain to keep them safe.  

“Don’t punch anyone tonight, okay?” She whispered, scooping hair behind his ear as she tended to the ugly gash on his cheek under the ugly yellow coloring around his eye. “Your fingers need a chance to heal.” 

Steve had been at her place on and off since the incident.  He’d stay the night, and then be up before the crack of dawn to be back at the house when Oliver woke up.  For the first time ever, he canceled a few tattoo appointments so that he could get the rest that the girls had been begging him to take.  He hated not having something to do; it made him bounce his knee and grind his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw bulged.

Steve worked a piece of gum inside his mouth and took in Astrid’s face from under hooded eyes, scooting her hips flush to his body, digging his fingers into the meat of her thighs.  “Why don’t you come by and see me tonight? I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe I’ll put you on the sink in the bathroom and have some fun like old times.”

One side of her full mouth lifted in a grin.  “Tempting,” she leaned in to touch her nose to his. “But I think I might sit this one out.”

“You can sit it out on my face, sugar,” he brought the bright green gum between his front teeth and held it there until she took the chewed piece into her own mouth.

“We’ll see,” and then she slid off of him, resisting his tug on her arm to pull her back down.

He rolled his head along the back of the couch, watching her walk behind him.  “Can I at least have my gum back?”

“No,” she answered flatly, disappearing into the kitchen.  

—-----

You and Eddie rolled up to the Velvet Hammer just after Steve, and he was finishing a smoke, still straddling his bike in the parking lot when he offered you a raised eyebrow and a two-finger wave.  Eddie slid into the spot next to him, facing the red brick exterior, and shut the engine off, planting his feet on either side to keep the beast steady.

“What is this? Bring your old man to work day?” Steve snaked his tongue out over his bottom lip, exhaling smoke from his nose. He had his sunglasses pushed up on his head, squinting against the glow of the sunset, one arm crossed over his chest. 

You giggled to yourself while you dismounted, pulling your leg through to avoid the sissy bar that had been at your back. You were used to Steve and his banter.  If he was teasing you, it meant he cared about you; it was a bit of a rite of passage.  He’d never admit it out loud, but you were special to him now—you were family, and he would look after you like he looked after his own. 

“Well,” Eddie took his helmet off and tucked some hair behind his ear, giving his friend a pointed look.  “I hear that the security here really sucks.”

“I told him he didn’t have to babysit me tonight,” you piped up, adjusting the backpack on your shoulder that had all of your work clothes inside. Eddie curled his fingers at you, asking for your helmet, so you passed it to him.  “But, what can I say? He’s growing on me,” and then you pressed up against his chest, making him puff air out of his nose at the sudden contact, and you kissed the side of his neck. 

“I’ll grow for you sweetheart, if you keep it up,” he mumbled.

Steve snorted and threw the butt of his smoke to the pavement.  A wave of sudden melancholy washed over him at the sight of the two of you.  

He’d been battling with himself the past few days, fighting the urge to call Charlene, to make sure she was okay, even though he hated her guts for what she’d tried to do to his family and everyone else.  There was a deep pit of loneliness in her, and when he’d stared into the void, the void had stared back.  He recognized a part of himself in her, like a dark foreshadowing for his life 15 years down the road.  A life of jumping from partner to partner, trying to gather every crumb of attention because he refused to let one person love him.  He told himself that Robin and Oliver were all he needed, but one day Robin would have her own life with a partner, perhaps with Katie, and Oliver would move out and become his own person.  He thought about Astrid, and how his mere presence in her life held her back from finding someone who could commit to her and give her the comfortable life she deserved.

“See you inside, freaks,” Steve pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and favored his right leg with a hitch and a hop on his way to the building, making his wallet chain bounce out to the side.  

“Should he be riding his motorcycle with that bad leg?” You asked with your mouth on the leather of Eddie’s shoulder.

“Probably not,” Eddie breathed, watching his friend go.  “But you can’t tell Steve shit.”

Eddie escorted you to the back door in the alley and waited for you to be inside before he went around to the front to take the bar entrance.  He didn’t plan to stay the whole night, he’d leave for a bit in the middle of your shift and go do some work a the shop, but the fear of losing you—as he had so many people in his life—was still lingering like barbs in his heart, and he only hoped you didn’t get tired of him being around all the time.  

In the narrow locker room, you shared a space with Jackie who was also getting ready for her shift. She hugged you violently, and it startled you, because she was not prone to physical displays of affection.  

“Bitch, you had me scared to death,” she gushed.  “I almost puked from relief when they said you were okay.”

She had her heels on and her already tall, voluptuous frame towered over you.  “I missed you too, hooker,” you gave a lopsided grin once she stepped back to look at your face, noting the healing cuts over your lip and eyebrow.  “You think my battle scars will milk some extra tips out of people tonight?”

The comment made Jackie scoff a laugh, but her eyes were glossy with emotion, giving a few light squeezes to your shoulders.  “You sure you’re good to work tonight? I know Shana would let me cover for you.”

You heaved a long sigh and clanked the metal of your locker open.  “The last thing I need is to be at home with my wheels spinning for another night.” Everyone was treating you like glass, and all you wanted was to feel normal again.

Even though you were relieved that the terror that Craig had put you through in your life was finally over, you mourned his death in your own way.  He had a mother and a sister out there somewhere who loved him very much and would be devastated by his passing.  You’d also never watched someone get shot and killed right in front of you before, and you hoped that you never had to see such a thing again.  

Jackie adjusted her red and black Velvet Hammer cap sleeve tee that was tucked into her leather miniskirt, and moved over to apply her maroon lipstick in the mirror, making her mouth into an O shape. The music from the main room was loud when someone opened the hallway door to head over to the kitchen.  “That guy John was here asking about you the other day.  Remember the big tipper who wanted to be your sugar daddy?”

“I think so,” You said it absently, as if you weren’t sure, pulling your tiny red shorts up your legs.  

“He came in alone, sat at the bar for a drink, and I overheard him asking about you, if you were okay,” she unzipped her purse and dug through it.  “I guess he heard about what happened.”

Yes, you imagined that he had heard about what happened. You wondered how much Charlene had told him.    

Jackie punched her beige time card into the machine on the wall and you followed suit, deep in thought over why John was trying to track you down at the Hammer instead of calling you on the phone.  

“Honestly, I’ve missed the fuck out of you,” Jackie said over her shoulder, pulling open the hallway door to the sea of cigarette smoke and the song Wave of Mutilation by The Pixies.  “The new girl gets on my nerves.”

You barely had time to ask who the new girl was before a familiar face framed by a platinum blonde bob stood in your path wearing a matching shirt with a tray full of what looked like Jägermeister shots.  

It was Erika.

“Oh, you must be the new girl,” you were a bit flustered, but on your list of worries, she was very low.  You could tell she was nervous to see you, and wobbled the tray, chewing her gum nervously.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said in a rush. “That I got a job here, I mean.  My sister is friends with Shana and I really needed the money because—-”

You shook your head and gave her a genuine smile that harbored no animosity.  “Of course I don’t mind,” you shuffled around her to get to the bar, thinking about how she seemed a bit afraid of you, and there was no need to be. “Did you say hi to Eddie? He’s here.” You reached around to tie a short apron with pockets around your hips. 

Her mouth gaped like a dying fish a few times. “Well, I, no…not yet…I mean, I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t mind,” you glanced up and caught Eddie’s eye at the bar.  You thought about all of the obstacles, all of the crap life had tried to throw your way to tear the two of you apart, and you’d both weathered the storm to find you were closer than ever.  You trusted Eddie with your life, and you knew that he only had eyes for you—he proved it to you every day.  

“I wanted you to know that what you did the other night was really badass,” Erika leaned in, eyes sparkling when they met yours.  And there it was, an understanding, a mutual truce, an unlikely friendship broadening on the horizon. 

Well, a friendship was unlikely, but a truce, at least.  

You didn’t know how to take the compliment, but you thanked her, and told her that you liked her earrings, and then you winked at Eddie before heading over to check on your first table.  He was at the bar having a Coke and talking to Thumper, who was also a patron that evening, and you could see that he was nodding, pretending to hear what his friend was saying, but all the while, his attention kept shifting to you.  

It was one of the last warm nights before the fall weather hit, and so Steve was sitting on his stool out on the pavement, propping the door open with the weight of his back.  He surprised himself by realizing he wasn’t in a flirtatious mood.  A few hotties who smelled like heaven were basically ready to gobble him up if he let them, but he barely gave their ID’s a glance and waved them through.  

He had a thick rubber band from the cash register that he was playing with, stretching it wide with his thumbs. Caught up in one of his daydreams, the rubber band accidentally shot out and almost nailed the person who was stepping up onto the sidewalk.

Astrid ducked just in time for it to zing through her hair instead of nailing her cheek.  

Steve experienced a bolt of recognition a second too late and was on his feet, almost knocking the stool over.  “Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” but then she started laughing, and they were both smiling when they kissed, teeth knocking together. 

She took two steps back so that his eyes could drink her in; the dark maroon dress with a slit up the thigh and generous scoop neck, it was one of her many handmade pieces to make room for her ample hips and hourglass shape.  Instead of a shawl, she had on a jean jacket this time, fingers and ears adorned in subtle gold jewelry.  

He pushed some thick curls away from her face and planted his lips on her forehead as he spoke.  “I missed you.”

“You just saw me a few hours ago,” she tilted her head back to lock her dark eyes onto his. “I came to make sure you behave yourself.”  

His smile was rueful—dangerous, even. He wiped his tongue over the point of his gold tooth. “You can’t come here in a dress like that and expect me to behave, sweetheart.”

A group of partiers went to try and stumble through the door, but Steve was quick to shove his hand against the doorframe, blocking them with his tattooed arm.  “Need to see ID’s first,” his tone was suddenly that of gruff, tough bouncer Steve, and not the sweet little loverboy from a few seconds ago. 

Once he’d given them all a stern look, he hurried back to grab for Astrid’s hands again, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “What’s your poison tonight darlin’? Just tell Shana to put it on my tab.”

She wasn’t about to let Steve pay for her drinks, but she nodded.  He tucked a padded stool from the bar just inside the door close to him while she was ordering her gin and tonic, giving Eddie a shoulder squeeze as she waited.  When she looked over at Steve again, he patted the seat a few times eagerly so that she would know where to go. 

—-------

A while later, as the bar filled up, Eddie was moving his head to the beat of the Muddy Waters tune “I’m your hoochie coochie man” when you came over to give him a back scratch and tuck his hair so you could smooch his ear.  The 1958 film The Crawling Eye was playing on the screen above the bar.

“What do you say? Can I be your hoochie coochie man, babe?” he muttered.  And then, dropping his gaze to his drink he added softly: “My mom loved Muddy Waters.”

One of the many layers you had yet to peel back on the onion of Eddie Munson was his relationship, or lack thereof, with his mother.  You always got the feeling that he didn’t want to talk about it, but more and more, you could feel him opening up on the subject and referencing her, wanting to finally let you know more about that facet of his life. From Robin you knew that she passed away when he was young, but that was the extent of it.

“Your mom had good taste,” you tipped his chin so that he could see your sincerity.  “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“Me too,” he blinked his glossy chocolate eyes a few times and took a hard gulp. “I think I might head over to the garage for a couple hours, but I’ll be back to pick you up.” 

“You should stay,” Shana, sporting a freshly shaved head and a new tattoo just above her ear, slapped the flat of her hand on the wood of the bar in front of him to get his attention, and then she gestured to the stage.  “Divine Filth is playing tonight.”

You could tell that finding out that one of the local bands, Divine Filth, was playing at the Hammer was a welcome surprise for Eddie when you saw his face light up.  They were another metal/rock band from a few towns over, you found out, and one of his friends was the lead singer. They’d played dozens of shows with Corroded Coffin over the years, and Eddie used to play lead on a few songs with them.  

“They just got back from Pedal to the Metal,” Shana continued.  Even you knew that Pedal to the Metal was a huge 3-day rock festival that happened every year up near Chicago, and even Eddie’s band had played there once. 

You saw that Eddie was contemplating the news, and weighing his options, gnawing on his bottom lip.  You decided to slide down closer, resting your elbow on the bar.  “Can’t whatever you have to do at the garage wait? Or maybe one of the guys can handle it? I’d love for  you to stay.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and his response was quick.  “Yeah, I mean, I’ll stay if you want me to.”

That was all he ever wanted, for you to tell him what you needed.  For you to say that you needed him.  

You put your forehead to his, fingers twirling in the baby hairs at his neckline. “Stay and be my hoochie coochie man.”

He mouthed a few words to the song against your lips before sinking in for a kiss.

Then, he pushed his soda aside and ordered a beer.  Thumper caught wind that he suddenly had a drinking buddy and gave the signal for two shots of “their finest”.  

—-----

Meanwhile, at the other end of town, Katie was at Robin’s again. She’d been staying there every night since it all happened.  Partly to give you and Eddie some space, but also, on her trip, she’d realized that she didn’t want to be away from her girlfriend any longer than she had to.

She was in love, like head over heels, for the first time in her adult life.

Once Oliver was fast asleep in his bedroom, the two were hustling to take their clothes off, gushing words of love in breathy whispers in the dark, needing to be as close together as possible. Robin was three fingers deep when Katie admitted that she’d never loved anyone this much before, and it made Robin go still, to ask her if she meant it, and to tell her she felt the same.

After their orgasms, Robin was straddling Katie’s lap, tasting her own release on her girlfriend’s tongue, when she decided to finally open up about what had been on her mind lately.

She’d meant to work it into conversation, but instead, she blurted it: “Do you want to move in here? With me…with us?” Her mouth dried up after she asked it, wondering if it was too soon, too ridiculous.  She swallowed hard, making a click noise in her throat. “I talked to Steve about it.  I haven’t talked to Oliver yet, but I will.”

Katie bucked her hips up so that their swollen lips brushed together, still dripping with cum.  She was quiet as she let the idea sink in.

Robin tucked some hair behind her ear and glanced down, reading her silence wrong. “I know it’s not a huge house, and we only have the one bathroom, and I get that it’s not very glamorous to shack up with a woman who already has a kid and a life partner.  But I think that I, I think that we, could—”

“You know I’m not the glamorous type,” the other woman interrupted, catching Robin’s chin to run her thumb along her bottom lip. She locked eyes with her. “We could always get a bigger house one day, down the road, all of us. I’m not worried about that.”

“So, you’ll think about it down the road, maybe?” 

“Robs, I don’t want to spend another night without you in my bed.”

“You don’t?” She was surprised, but also, not sure if she’d answered her yet or not.  

Other than her brother Dan who lived across the country, and a mother she’d never been close with, Katie had rarely known the comforts of family, but she had found what she’d always been missing within the cleave of the Harrington-Buckley clan.  It wasn’t a living situation that would suit everyone, but the idea of making a life in that corner of the world had her insides glowing.  She’d need to discuss it with you, and give you plenty of notice if you were okay with it.  The way things were going with you and Eddie, Katie had a good feeling that the two of you were considering the same merging of households, anyway.  

“I’d understand if you didn’t want to.  I know this is an unconventional situation, and I wouldn’t blame you for—”

Katie cut her off and put her hands on either side of Robin’s face. Her words bubbled in her chest, a smile soft on her lips. The “yes” she spoke was followed by a nudge of the nose, a suck on her bottom lip, and then she was repeating it over and over as Robin pushed her to the bed and got on top of her.  

—--------

You were able to catch the way Eddie’s demeanor softened once he started to relax and ease into the evening. He was laughing at Thumper’s theatrics, chuckling so hard, the apples of his cheeks turned pink.  Steve led Astrid by the hand to one of the only two bathrooms at one point, and the next thing you knew, there was a line of 3 or 4 people waiting to use it, so you had to give the door a polite knock, loud enough to be heard over the Jimi Hendrix song that was playing.

Astrid came out adjusting her dress, with no lipstick on, and Steve followed, wiping his mouth suspiciously, and palming the bulge in his jeans.  He chuckled at the way your head was cocked, and mumbled a cheeky, “I was on my break,” before heading back to his stool.  

When the members of Divine Filth showed up from the back entrance with their instruments, you could tell who the lead singer was immediately; she had a distinct presence.  She was small but poised, hair dyed black with one side of her head shaved, and the other side long down to her shoulders.  She had on leather pants and a ripped shirt cropped at her waist, with tattoos on her biceps.

She looked around the room, taking stock of the place as the other members went to set up.  You were standing to full height after setting some drinks down at a table full of Hell’s Belles when you watched her spot Eddie.

She let out a squeal and headed over to him with a bounce in her step. Eddie sprang off of his stool to return her embrace, lifting her up off her feet in an enthusiastic hug.  The second her feet touched the ground again, Eddie was waving you over, wanting to introduce you.  

“This is my girl,” he pulled you flush to his side the second you were within arms reach.  “Baby, this is my friend Nancy, the lead singer of Divine Filth.”

Nancy Wheeler stuck her hand out for you to shake and told you that she’d already heard a lot about you.

“Yeah, from who?” Eddie was curious because it had been almost a year since he’d talked to Nancy.  

“Robin,” she said, and of course, Eddie should have known.  She shrugged, “we catch up every now and then. Steve gave me some new ink a few months ago.”

There was melancholy in her voice, and you’d find out later that Robin and Nancy had a brief thing once, back in high school, back when they were always in detention together for destroying school property.  Nancy was a pyro in her own right.  She had fond memories of letting Steve practice tattooing on both her and Robin in her parents basement while drinking beers they stole from the QuikMart.  

“Robin couldn’t make it out tonight,” Eddie let her know in a cautious tone, wondering if she’d had her hopes up.

“Oh I know, she told me,” she said in a rush.  “She’s with someone and she’s happy and I’m happy for her.” And if she wasn’t, I’d do something about it, she thought to herself.

You couldn’t tell if she meant every word, or if she was trying to convince herself as she spoke them.  

“So, big boy,” Nancy put a hand on her hip, wanting to change the subject, and raised an eyebrow at Eddie, clapping him on the arm.  “You going to grace us with your presence on stage tonight?”

Eddie immediately started shaking his head to decline, but you were quick to turn to him with those wide, hopeful eyes, and it made him pause.  “Maybe,” he mused, noting your intense interest, and then turned his attention back to Nancy.  “My girl has never seen me play before.”

“No shit?” Nancy was genuinely surprised, jaw going slack.  “Dude, your man kills it up there.  He’s got star power, and I wish he’d get his head out of his ass and come out to do more shows with us.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a little thing called running your own business, and I don’t recommend it,” Eddie grumbled, as one hand reached for the next beer Thumper was passing him and the other smoothed circles on your back.  

There were tables waiting, and more people coming in, so you excused yourself and snaked your arm out from around Eddie.  He took hold of the back of your neck and guided you back to kiss the side of your head one more time before you were out of reach again.  

There was one dancer shimmying down the pole to the song Stinkfist by Tool, and it was the last performance of the evening before Divine Filth started their set.  Nancy was up on the stage riser helping to situate things where she wanted them, and the tips were flowing into your pockets just as fast as patrons were knocking back shots.  The front door that had once been propped open by Steve’s body was shut now, locking the bar in a dim, red glow, billowing in a smog of nicotine fumes.  

“… Just not enough, I need more

Nothing seems to satisfy

I said, I don't want it, I just need it

To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive…”

Astrid had gone home by then, and Thumper was casually watching the door as Steve made his way over to see Nancy, and every time the door opened, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to clean out your lungs. This time, when you felt the gush of cool breeze flush your skin, you were on the way across the room with a drink order, and you absently looked up to see who was coming in.

“… Finger deep within the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together

Relax, turn around and take my hand…”

You stopped in your tracks when you saw who it was, one foot paused in the air behind you, mid-stride.

There, silhouetted against the backdrop of the street, stood Charlene.

The black bodysuit she had on made her look like Sandy from Grease, but her shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, and standing next to her was a guy in a red shirt, jeans, a wallet chain, and a leather MC kutte with the insignia for Lucifer’s Own on it.  He was maybe 30, looked like a blonde version of Rob Lowe, and he had his elbow out for Charlene to hold onto.  

Now, you didn’t know all of the politics about biker etiquette, or any “turf” battles like they sang and danced about in musicals, but it was well known that the Hammer was a Coffin Kings bar, and you’d never seen another insignia step foot in the door, other than Hell’s Belles and Eastside Reapers, since you’d started working there. 

Thumper caught sight of the guy who had just come in the door and spun on his stool, about to stand up, but Eddie snatched his arm, and you were sure he stiffly told him to sit back down.  Eddie found your eyes over a few shoulders that were pressed together in the crowd, and you exchanged a weary look of disbelief.  

The blonde biker gave Thumper a feral grin, wiggling the tip of his tongue between his teeth.  Charlene seemed more reserved than normal, not as full of herself, and she was very preoccupied with searching the sea of bodies.  

You had a good feeling who she was looking for.  

You were glad that Erika was there to motion them over to a table that she had just cleaned off.  It was in the corner, further away from the bar.  

You were just about to go over to ask Eddie who Charlene was with when a customer blocked your path and gave you a multiple drink order out of the blue, and you had to tell them to give you a second while you caught your bearings.

Now you were trying to see where Steve was, to play interference, but it was too late.

“… I can help you change

Tired moments into pleasure

Say the word and we'll be

Well upon our way

Pain and comfort, deep within you

Till you will not want me any other way...”

You spun on your heel to find that Steve had already spotted the newcomers.  You watched the muscles in his face tense, standing with his fists balled at his sides for a few seconds, and then Eddie was there, in his face, pushing him back, trying to get him to keep his cool.

The blonde biker at Charlene’s table put his feet up on the seat next to him and lit a cigarette, seemingly without a care in the world.

“It’s not worth it, man,” Eddie grumbled to Steve, holding his hand on chest. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, forget about them.”

Steve’s eyes were locked in the distance, sunglasses now hooked onto the front of his shirt.  “What the fuck is she doing here with Billy Hargrove?”

“Who knows what kind of game she’s playing,” he moved to try and block Steve’s view of them.  “Listen, if he crosses a line, we’ll bounce him, otherwise we let it ride, got it? There’s too many eyes on us here tonight to cause a scene, especially after last week.”

In a strange turn of events, Shana, the manager, came out from behind the bar and went over to greet Charlene and her companion.  She shook both of their hands, and the two women appeared to know each other. 

“...Knuckle deep inside the borderline

This may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to..."

“Hey,” you squished your way in between some people at the bar, and caught Shana’s attention when she returned.  “How do you know those two?”

Shana cracked open a few beer tops as she spoke.  “She’s some rich lady, I only met her yesterday.  Stephen, one of the owners, sold his share of the Hammer to her and moved to Florida literally in the middle of the night.”

“… I'll keep digging

Till I feel something

Elbow deep inside the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together…”

You made a sour face, trying to understand what Shana was telling you, but then, realization dawned just as she was sharing the final bit of information with you:

“Charlene Gregson is part owner of the Velvet Hammer now.”

Part 17

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I love you all! I have some fun things planned for the few final chapters of this story, I'm even working on a holiday special💗 Your thoughtful commentary and reblogs always mean so much to me.

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system @secretdryrose @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc

[dnpbeats]

hiii I'm new here and I just cannot believe these guys?? Are these the ones whose relationship was such a "mystery" what haha they literally foreplay on live. I get feral over them being so cute and flirty but I can't imagine the level of shock some of the people longer in the fandom feel? Weren't they always like this I can't imagine not. I mean I recently saw a video here of them doing a live back in the day and phil says they won't get up to more gaming thaf day and dan's going all blushy and flustered. Is this the mystery???

anon firstly welcome <3 secondly.... LOL okay like. yes people have always known they’re together but there were many years where d&p tried to downplay their relationship or at times even outright went against ppl shipping them. I'm assuming you're talking about the livestream they did while on tour. so that was 2018. While this was around the time that d&p started to be more open with how they interacted with each other, keep in mind this was still a year before either of them even came out (though dan started being more open w/ his sexuality around 2016). Before that, it was like Platonic Bros over in danandphil land. In 2012/2013 dan would actively fight with shippers and tell everyone they were idiots for thinking him and phil were together 😭 but it was more than that, they also downplayed a lot of aspects of their relationship. phil went so far as to make up a lie that they met through a mutual friend, they would talk about needing gfs/why they didn’t have them. as far as im aware the first active denial of their relationship was in 2011

to give you more of a sense of what it was like: in 2015, on Oct 19th they were doing a liveshow and acknowledged that it was their “friendiversary” which was like groundbreaking (despite the fact that they were calling each other friends) bc I don’t think they’d ever acknowledged Oct 19th before. When dan made the shipping joke in his diss track everyone lost their minds because, again, before that they either didn’t acknowledge shipping or actively went against it

like. I was in the phandom 2014-2017 and I left for a while. what convinced me to come back? d&p reacting to all the pinofs and phil making “they’re touching” jokes 😭 like honestly. bc when I was first in the phandom, d&p reacting to all the pinofs wasn’t something they really seemed keen to do (see them reacting to pinof 1 in pinof 10 and gtpwtw). but also, poking fun at both shippers and themselves by mocking how ppl used to freak out over them touching isn’t something they would’ve done. phil making that joke is what made me go “oh shit it’s different now.” different bc d&p now acknowledge shipping in a teasing/friendly way (rather than an antagonistic way), and different bc the phandom is also able to look back and go “yeah we were kinda unhinged in 2015” yk?

tldr: them being together was never a mystery but yes, as someone who has been in the phandom a long time, it is still shocking sometimes to see them openly flirting

[calypsolemon]

okay let’s try and analyze anthy’s reactions during duels and why she sometimes is just completely still and other times she’s like “utena watch out!!” and other times she’s full on interfering. also how her relationship with utena and vice versa changes during the whole season

Lune you had no clue how much you were asking for when you sent this partway thru our watchthru lmaooo

I think the easiest question to answer here is "why she is completely still sometimes" and well it's that... most of the time she doesn't need to do anything. Anthy has been acting as the rose bride for what is clearly a looong time, and her "job" (her real job, as commanded by Akio, not what she presents to the duelists) essentially amounts to subtly manipulating people into projecting their desires onto her, so they will fight to own her. Usually, by the time they are at the arena clashing swords, Anthy has already done everything she needs to - the pawns are in place so to speak, she only needs to watch them play out their parts.

Beyond that, Anthy is generally emotionally disconnected from what goes on in the duels, despite the fact that they influence who she is going to have to live with. Though some duelists may, on a surface-level, treat Anthy better than others, and that might lead her to attempt to subtly push duels in her favor when she can, she ultimately sees her abuse at the hands of duelists as an inevitability, just another Thursday in the life of the Rose Bride. Therefore, apathy is the default Anthy emotion for any given duel.

So lets talk about the times when she is Very Much Not Apathetic

From the very first duel, she actually does express shock at Utena winning the duel with just a wooden sword. I will be honest, I dont actually put much weight onto this moment. I think its just sort of a natural reaction to someone so uninvested in either Anthy or the power she represents, winning the duel in such a dramatic way. I'm not even sure at this point she's clued in to Utena embodying Dios.

More notably, we have Miki's duel, which is the first true sign of mid-duel intervention by Anthy. By this point Utena has had an actual moment of "Dios coming down from the castle to possess her," which... depending on your reading means either Anthy, Akio, or both see some sort of potential in Utena. So she blatantly throws the duel for Miki by directly contrasting the idea of protecting her she's purposefully built up till this point.

The most notable reaction from the first arc, though, would be in the second duel against Touga.

This is after we get one of the only direct confirmations in this arc that Anthy is actually beginning to care for Utena; the scene where she is sitting alone, imagining Utena across from her at the table. In this moment, when Utena is fighting for her princely ideals despite the risk of actual death, Anthy is (for lack of a better term) triggered into recalling when Dios was gravely injured and still attempting to act as prince. And whether it is through the protective instincts of those memories, or just straight up being pulled out of concentration of what she's doing, it causes her to accidentally throw the duel for Touga, by rescinding her power from his sword.

So, we basically have two precedents set for Anthy reacting during duels: She sometimes consciously interferes as a strategic move, and she sometimes has a genuine emotional reaction, usually in relation to her memories of Dios being triggered and/or potential care for Utena. I don't actually think these two things are mutually exclusive, however, and they become muddled as we move into the Black Rose Arc.

Anthy definitely begins to be a lot more lively during these duels, from interacting with the objects on the tables, to giving Utena's sword the blessing, to yelling for her as she catches her mid-air. Is this because she genuinely cares for or is concerned about Utena? Is projecting Dios onto her? Or is it just because Utena winning is what is necessary for the duels to function? Maybe some combo of all? Who knows

The most notable Black Rose Duel reaction, to me personally, is when Anthy downright demands Utena pull the sword from her against Wakaba. Its very uncharacteristic of her, and I believe its because, despite the Black Rose Duels being something she has a hand in, she may genuinely be concerned for her own life here, as she has built up Wakaba to be actually, murderously jealous of her personally, and Utena is actively refusing to fight.

As we move into the final arcs of the show, we get one of the most blatant Anthy duel disruptions to date:

The sword of Dios disappears mid-battle, and instead of remembering Dios in the face of fighting against impossible odds, it is now Utena's words of friendship that spur her to jump in front of her, and draw her own sword from her chest. I really think this is one of the most significant mid-duel actions Anthy takes besides the final duel. It shows that Anthy's emotions are no longer being spurred on by simple relation back to Dios, but rather by the genuine care that Utena is showing her. Even if their relationship is about to be mired in turmoil thanks to Akio's interference, it was starting to become something real, and it was also starting to break down Anthy's carefully built walls.

I'm getting eepy and also this is getting long, so I'm going to stop the analysis train there. I could get into the final duel but quite frankly I think thats an essay in and of itself. Anthy's reactions during duels is really a fascinating topic and you could probably go on forever talking about it (just like everything else in this show)

[yuri-is-online]

Keep thinking bout Yutu and his relationship to his dad. Like we know a little more about Ace, Floyd, Azul and Riddle (maybe I miss someone else?) but I was curious about other details or interactions with the other Overblot boys.

Like how does talking with someone who tries his best to not get involved in other people's business like Jamil work for making his parents fall in love (if that's even something Yutu can see happening with how distant he is)? How does Yutu go about trying to lay some clues for Vil without being found when Vil's doing his best (with Rook's help) to figure out what's going on?

Or what about the shenanigans Ortho would get to to ensure Idia and Yuu get together so they can try to stop the apocalypse and how would Yutu feel about having at least one person (his uncle at that!) who he can rely on? Or does Yutu ever find himself in a situation that makes him go "oh, I could've had this with dad if it weren't for the council" whenever Malleus says something deep without realizing?

Gaaaaahhhhh I just really like this au and I wanna ask you so many questions but I also don't wanna be annoying

ask is referencing the fyuuture kid au, information on which can be found here and here, or under the series section on my masterlist.

No one is annoying for asking questions! I have asks for Idia and Leona's Yutus, which I think makes every overblot boy except for Jamil and Vil due for a detailed post. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a grey area since I have talked about him a bunch but haven't done detailed hc for him. Yet anyway, Jade and Floyd got one so he needs one too otherwise it'll bug me.

Jamil! Yutu absolutely has a lot of guilt and self hatred around his entire existence. As I talked about in the post about the main cast, Jamil was executed in Yutu's future, and he feels personally responsible for that. If his dad had never fallen in love with Yuu then he would have had a chance at his freedom, that's how Yutu has come to see it anyway. He doesn't want Jamil to fall in love with Yuu, even if it means erasing his existence. Down that road lies only tragedy, but there is also something so beautiful about the way Jamil interacts with Yuu when he thinks no one is looking. There is a degree of mutual respect for how hard the other works and intense desire for approval and praise he can sympathize with. He just doesn't see a way for this to end well if it's allowed to continue, he's a very pessimistic kid Jamil! Yutu. But then again the others didn't have to see the rotted corpse of their father getting dragged around by a blot phantom and be told by a few angry relatives of Kalim that he is the one who put him there.

Vil! Yutu is a bit afraid of his dad. He knows from personal experience that the man is intense and does not take no for an answer but he's never been in the position to see 1) what a good thing that can be or 2) just how silly that can make him act. He's also NEVER had to contend with the real Rook before. The Rook he's familiar with is a mindless monster, dangerous sure, but with patterns you can memorize and protect yourself from. This guy is just wild, sure his dad says that he's only putting up for his behavior "for now" but someone tell him where the fucking line is??? The last thing he wants is to just say everything and risk ruining the timeline but Vil keeps demanding specifics. The main thing Yutu tries to do is get him cooperating with Idia in learning about blot phantoms, the way he sees it things will be much easier if his two most trusted adults are on the same page. It's not a difficult ask either post chapter six, I think Vil is someone who would want to understand what happened to him on a scientific level to some degree, but oh Yutu. Now you've just made him wonder how you know that little piece of information, not everyone knows about his overblot, but he didn't know that bit did he?

Ortho and Idia! Yutu wind up being very close. Having his uncle on his side puts Yutu in a much more stable place emotionally and mentally than other Yutus. They spend a lot of time analyzing old records about blot and phantoms, everyone else is convinced they're just hyping each other up for some weird PhD project inspired by the Ramshackle Prefect's time at NRC and hey. They aren't exactly wrong. As for how they go about trying to get Idia and Yuu together... it's a lot of anime recommendations and conveniently forgetting they had something else to do. Yutu has just as in depth knowledge of Idia's tastes as Ortho does, and the added bonus of knowing Yuu's, so they search through lists of things, pick out the shows they know will get the two of you talking and then sit back and let you interact. Yutu is genuinely confused about why or if this is working... but Ortho did send him a video of his dad hyping himself up to try and ask you out (he over heated and just hid inside his room instead but hey. It's the thought that counts.)

Malleus! Yutu just got his post here. And yes he does think regularly about what he could have had with his father if things had been different, but a lot of those thoughts come from his sillier moments. Hearing Malleus talk at length about ruins or seeing him confused about how to interact with technology make him seem more... human for lack of a better term to him. He's very familiar with the myth of Malleus Draconia, but he wasn't fathered by a myth. He was fathered by a man who fell in love with a human under very extraordinary circumstances and Yutu wants to know about why. What things did Malleus like most about Yuu? About Twisted Wonderland? If he had gotten a chance to be raised by him what things would Malleus have wanted to teach him? Would he be any different?

Azul! Yutu is also afraid of his dad, but not based on any personal experiences just his own insecurities. He's not a thin guy, he's not in Octavinelle, and he is extremely worried that his dad will see him as some sort of stupid muscle head and be disappointed in having him. He's also, understandably, extremely angry at him when he learns what he did in Book 3 to his parent. Fuck this guy, he'll just save Yuu himself and hopefully if they still get together he'll grow up to be a totally different person when he's born in this good timeline. But there's just something about Azul's approval that he can't help but want now that drives him crazy. Why can't he just be ok with being alone? He has been all this time anyway...

(Meanwhile Azul is deeply impressed with how well Yutu is at disguising himself as a dumb muscle head. Just look at the kid, he's got everyone thinking he just is controlling their shadows while he's actually using a really complicated bit of cosmic magic. Suckers all of them. Not him though. He's not being fooled by anything about Yutu, no sir.)

Leona, Leona, Leona. He's tricky for me to write. Scar apparently has children? In one the the Lion King sequels? Leona's dislike of kids seems to come from his complicated feelings around the throne and his want for people to be independent. I think he would be one of those gruff intense kind of dads who does the whole "we are never getting a pet" thing and then you see him asleep on the recliner with Princess Nooodles III chilling on his lap with him. Anyway back to Yutu-

Leona! Yutu's relationship with his dad is tempered by the fact Leona knows who and what he is from the start and demands to know why he has traveled back in time. He doesn't explicitly say he knows that he is his father or that Yuu is his other parent, just that he knows time travel is involved, so they have a fairly open amount of communication regarding the overblot "business" but not on much else. Yutu has a desire to understand his father and Leona has a desire to not disappoint him. Who would want their dad to be the second prince? He's destined for nothing but a miserable life anyway, all of the responsibility and none of the privilege (outside of the money but lets be real, Leona's ass does not understand that.) I don't think either Leona or Yutu fully understands that his existence is enough for the other to be happy. When they are forced to talk about it they both laugh it off and roll their eyes at how cheesy that sounds but deep down it means a lot to both of them.

Riddle! Yutu has gotten a lot of posts about him and his "hatred" of his dad but I thought I'd take this post to mention I like the idea of Yutu's favorite food being the chestnut tarts/mont blanc that aren't allowed at Unbirthday Parties but that Riddle still wanted to eat anyway. He's a lot like his father in his love of sweets and his determined denial of it, but he isn't the exact same. Also gives him one more thing to pick a fight with Riddle over (his dad doesn't get the big deal, they can just have a private tea party with Yuu and have all the different sweets they want... can't they?)

[my-unorthodox-life]

okay can i vent for a minute? get real personal with all y'all?

i've been a tumblr user since i got my first tablet at age 12, over a decade of having at least one active blog (usually more) so it's safe to say i've both gotten my fair share of hate and found ways of using this app to benefit me and keep me detached from this hate

currently i have 4 active blogs, my main where i do the typical reblogging and updates on my fanfics, this one where i post like a proper blog and reblog jewish things that matter to me, my mental health recovery blog where i talk about my eating disorder and ptsd, and my adult one where i reblog fun sexy stuff and chat about the struggles of dating as sex positive people with trauma.

all very important to me and all have various levels of anonymity when it comes to knowing about me as a person. some have my name, some a nickname, one just my age. plus various tidbits so people know what to expect from my posts and what we can chat about, basic blog rules essentially

in the past few months as antisemitism has gotten more and more common place i of course get more anon hate, i don't turn of inboxes since i do get nice stuff from time to time, and that's kind of the territory of running a blog (i had a trans rights one in the age of kalvin garrah, i think i'll live)

out of those four blogs the one that gets the most antisemitic messages, i mean full paragraphs of truly vile ramblings that read like a nazi fever dream, is the one for my mental health recovery. a blog that i block all but mutuals on, meaning either a stranger or someone i've interacted with is sending these messages

i've started replying to them, cause i feel if they want to be mean and make a fool of themselves i might as well let everyone see (poor guy keeps sending me weird reviews of "my" wattpad fics. i've never had a wattpad account but this doesn't seem to stop him), but what gets me is that blog has the least personal information on it. no name or nickname, no hobbies or interests listed, nothing about what i do for work beyond "pet care", and the only mention of my religion or politics was one post that joking about how my mental health often gets worse around the high holy days (very demure, very mindful)

and yet that's the blog that gets straight up death threats, not even disguised as anything else, just straight up calling me a pig who deserves to burn. not the personal blog where i've posted about israel and palestine, or about dating while religious, or hell even this one that might as well be a "i'm a sensitive jewish minded person! thoughts?" blog.

no the one blog that people feel safe harassing is the nondescript recovery and relapse blog. that's where people feel comfortable.

and it makes me sad, not because of what was said, but because it *was* said. that there's people out there comfortable enough in their bigotry to go up to someone and spew vile hate like it's nothing, but only of course if they can't put a name or face to the person they're talking to

what this reminds me of is when i was in high school i had an art teacher who didn't stand for antisemitic jokes, and there were a lot in my school. one day a kid just asked him "Mr.Dexter, are you a jew?" and his response really stuck with me. he said "It doesn't matter, maybe I am, maybe I used to be, maybe my wife is. But you shouldn't not say mean things just because you don't want to get in trouble, you shouldn't say them because you know it's wrong. If you didn't know, you wouldn't ask."

and i think that really sums up all these trolls i've seen running through jewish blogs or even ones that casually mention it, they know it's wrong but the aren't saying it to a jewish face, they're just saying it to the idea of judaism

these people wouldn't walk up to you on the street and look you up and down and say half of what they feel comfortable typing, but here where they can not only hide their face, but seek out a target that has hidden their own they've found a way to give themselves free reign to say and do whatever they want. to them it's not a person on the other side of the screen, it's the strawman caricature of a jewish person, out here just for them to yell at to get whatever anger they have out of their system

of course there are some people who would say truly despicable things to a random person on the street, but cmon is that person really on tumblr hunting through buzz words to send hate?

anyways i know the compassionate thing to do would be to pray for them to heal what's hurting them so bad, but yanno what, they can suffer a bit first

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Hey, Mickey!

University AU TW: Language, Alcohol Consumption, P w/out P, Hook-Up Culture, Y/N's a bit promiscuous but so are her friends lmfao Smut Warnings: Sloppy Make Outs, Penetrative Sex, Degradation, Name Calling, Oral (Giving and Receiving), Fingering, Overstimulation, San's a meanie (translated: soft dom ish), Unprotected Sex (contraceptives are sexy guys), Creampie, Cockwarming(ish), Manhandling, Multiple Orgasms Genre: Romance, Smut, Exes-to-FWB-to-Lovers, Minors DNI Pairing: Choi San x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 4.3K

[Other Groups Masterlist] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: I'm in my choi san era and the hey mickey you so fine audio has been stuck in my head all day so oop here we go Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

"Oh, yeah, he's my ex-boyfriend," you shrugged.

"He's your ex?!" Your friend shouted and you flinched back. She whips her head back and turns your head gently for you to follow her gaze.

"Way to be subtle..."

"Look at him! He's sculpted like a god!" She whispers harshly. San, meanwhile, shakes his hair with his hand while talking to two of your other friends. Sure, you could see why your friend found him attractive, all the surface-level bull shit at the very least. Good build, strong figure, killer jawline, etc. etc. Hell, sometimes you swear he'd subtly flex on purpose just to get his admirers swooning. He's so fucking pretentious for that. But his looks are where it ends.

"You're overreacting," you rolled your eyes and pulled away from her. Cocky and good for nothing, whenever you'd spend any amount of time with San you'd always get worked up in some shape or form. Once your friend saw how much of a shitty person he could be she'd definitely run the other way. Choi San was basically a walking red flag.

"(Y/N), how the fuck did you fumble the bag with him?! He's so damn fine," she chews on the tip of her thumb.

"Okay, hold on," you defended yourself, "first of all, I broke up with him, and second of all, it was a mutual agreement to break up," you explained. Your friend groaned and slumped against her chair.

"So he's off limits then?" She asks sadly.

"Off limits? Far from, by all means take him," you waved your hand absently. "San and I agreed to go back to being friends, we worked better that way anyway," you shook your head. Just friends, you weren't really lying, you were just cutting around the truth.

"How long did you date?"

"Two years."

"Fuck... How long has it been since you broke up?" She asks.

"Three years."

"Oh, shit, okay then!" She tucks her hair behind her ear. "How do I look?"

"Stunning, go get him, tiger," you said with a chided tone. Yeosang breaks his conversation with San as soon as he spots you. Your friend brushes past him, bumping into his shoulder on her way over but sparing no other interaction. Yeosang side-eyed her until he finally reached you.

"What's up with her?"

"He got her," you laughed without sparing a glance.

"He has that effect," Yeosang takes the now spare chair. "You're still on for tonight, though, right?" You looked up from your computer.

"Of course, I am, when have I ever said no to a party?" You asked. Yeosang throws his hands up.

"Just asking! Last time we went out you bailed!"

"I didn't bail I ended up hooking up with someone so I got busy!" You explained. Someone who just happened to be talking up your friend at the moment.

"Sure, (Y/N)! Ditch your childhood friends so you could go fuck around, we don't mind!" Wooyoung hops into the conversation. Technically you didn't ditch your childhood friends, considering he is one of them. "As long as you bring us, of course," he grins.

"Screw you!" You pushed his head away playfully. "I'm serious, I have to finish this before we go out tonight." You waved your hand to silence Wooyoung and continued typing away.

"You're such a killjoy, (Y/N)," Wooyoung sits on the other chair now. "What are you wearing?" He asks. You slid your phone to him to show him the picture and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Whoops, wrong one," you slid your finger across the screen to show the actual outfit.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Wooyoung swiped to the previous picture and leaned toward Yeosang, who shrugged and continued drinking his iced coffee.

"Saw that one already."

"Huh?!" Wooyoung's jaw dropped.

"Bruh, I told you to choose the other one!" Yeosang argues.

"I didn't like the other one!" You fought back. Wooyoung swipes to the previous picture.

"No, yeah, (Y/N)'s right, she looks better in the black one," Wooyoung agrees.

"The blue looks better," Yeosang swipes to the blue lingerie picture and Wooyoung responds with a shocked expression.

"He just doesn't get it," Wooyoung shook his head.

"(Y/N), thanks for watching my things," your friend bounds back and grabs her backpack.

"How'd it go?" You ask.

"He's taking me with him to the party tonight!" She couldn't hide her excitement. "Oh, who are your other friends here?" She looks between the two boys that joined you.

"Close friends."

"We're friends with San too," Wooyoung speaks up right on time for San to arrive.

"Oh... oh, (Y/N), wait, are you sure you're okay with me talking to San?" She asks with apologetic eyes.

"Yeah, go for it, I'm talking to someone new anyway," you shrugged. Now that caught San's attention. You tried not to look at him, memories of just last week resurfacing now.

"Right! The guy from orgo, right?" Your friend sneaks in a sly look with an even slyer grin. "Tell me how your date goes tomorrow!" She gives you a side hug before smiling at San. Then, she was gone.

"Guy from orgo?" Yeosang asks. You took a deep breath, leave it to her to spill a secret.

"He's nice, and his name is Mark, so don't be mean!" you defended him.

"Do we know him?" Wooyoung butts in. "Come on, we know basically everything about each other, tell us about this guy," he insists.

"Nothing big, okay? He's just a sweet guy who asked me out on a date, alright?" You shut your laptop, knowing full well that your essay won't be done any time soon.

"You guys fuck yet?" Yeosang asks.

"Holy shit, straight to the point," you grimaced at him.

"Hup, that expression says everything. And you said yes to going out on another date?" Yeosang presses. "Wait, wait, is this why you asked me what color of lin-"

"Shut up, Yeo, we're in public!" You shushed him quickly, just in time to catch San's glance. "But... yeah, alright? He's just sweet, okay? I want it to work out," you cleared your throat. "He got me flowers the other day..." your face began to heat up.

"Holy shit," Yeosang shakes his head. "The bar is set so low."

"The bar is you, my guy," Wooyoung laughs at San. "Imagine how shitty of a boyfriend you have to be for your ex to be blown away when she gets flowers."

"What kind of flowers?" Yeosang asks.

"Lilacs! Look how cute they are," you showed him a picture.

"Aww, good for you, (Y/N), you deserve someone sweet like that," he nudges you softly.

"Yeah, (Y/N), you're always into assholes, so maybe this will shake things up a little," Wooyoung jokes.

"Hey," San finally speaks up.

"You are an asshole!" You all respond.

"Yeah, an asshole who's DDing you two later so watch your mouth," San glares at Wooyoung and Yeosang, who only roll their eyes.

"We're not even going to get that drunk!"

~

"I am so drunk!" Wooyoung cries into your arms while Yeosang threw up in a trashcan next to you.

"Dear god, okay, it's okay, Wooyoung," you comforted him.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Wooyoung grimaces.

"Ew, no, no, share the trashcan with Yeo," you shoved him off of you and tumbled out of the bathroom. You slammed the door shut and the girl who was next line looked at you with pleading eyes. "You don't want to go in there," you waved your hand and she ran off to find another bathroom. You pulled your phone out and typed out a quick response to Mark.

"Sending your friend after me? That's a dirty trick, (Y/N)," San leaned against the wall, effectively blocking your way out of the hall. You shoved your phone in your bra and took a deep breath.

"Hey, I didn't send her, she went herself," you shrugged.

"Is that right?" He leans toward you, hand playing with your dress strap. "She's waiting for me in this room here, you know," he nudges his head toward the door next to him. Your eyes slid over to it, the stark image of your poor friend waiting for her hook-up to return crossing your mind. San leans down to your ear, pulling you closer with the aforementioned dress strap. "Why don't we go into the room next to it?" Your eyes met his in an instant. You swore you wouldn't do this again.

"I hate you," you pushed forward and pressed your lips to his. Instantly, he fell into rhythm, like he had many times before, and like he would in the future. You pushed him against the door, the weak thing rattling against its frame, and your friend's surprised yelp resounding despite the deafening music. San smirked against your lips, one hand tugging your dress down your shoulders while the other held the side of your face. Quickly, the kiss got messier, it was gross, almost. Teeth grazing each other and tongues swirling together, it was disgusting, but fuck were you both into it. San pulled you into the next room over and kicked the door shut. He pushed you down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, his hands were gripping the bottom of his shirt before you pulled him down to kiss him again. You tugged at his belt buckle while his lips moved down from your lips to your neck, and you were just barely pulling it off by the time he started to bite down on your nape, and your hands squeezed at the leather while a strained moan escaped you. San pauses before pressing his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Oh, come on, you can do better than that." His knee pushes up between your legs and they open near habitually. You pulled his shirt off right as he pushed your skirt up, his belt was clattering against the floor right next to your panties, and now your dress was pooled under his jeans near the corner of the bed. San's lips attached to your chest, inching closer to your nipples as his hand pushed against your thigh.

Then, it hit you. You had a date tomorrow. You had a date with a wonderful guy, someone who treated you with so much care that you didn't even know was possible, and here you were, about to get dicked down by your ex-boyfriend just like you had been for months now. You grabbed onto his wrist and he stopped. He pushed himself up so that he hovered above you now.

"We can't do this, we said we'd stop," you were out of breath. San didn't say a single word, no, it was like he was waiting for you to really think harder about this. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, ready to leave, but San kept you caged between him. "I... I'm seeing someone right now," you admitted this, but you couldn't meet his eyes.

"Talking or dating?" He asks. You still couldn't look at him.

"Talking," you muttered. With two fingers he pushed against your cheek to face him.

"Are we going to fuck or not?" He asked. "If you want to stop right now, then I'll stop and go next door. If not, tell me now." He said in a low voice. Hell... you can't say no to him when you're looking at him like this. Plus... you really didn't want your friend to have sex with him.

"What's one more fuck?" You shook your head. It was the same thing you said last time, the time before that, and the time before that. What's one more fuck? That stupid smirk that San was so good at appeared on his face again while he moved down.

"What's one more fuck?" He mocks you. "You gonna say that again tomorrow when you come running back to me after that date of yours?" His tongue traces up the inside of your thighs and your arms start to give in under you. "Are you going to say that to me again after he fucks you too? When you find out that he can't take care of you the way I do?" His tongue swipes up your pussy now and your thighs tense up. San's hands held them down now, the skin beneath them no doubt bruising. Then, when you felt the feather-light kiss against your clit, you knew what you'd agreed to. San ate you out like everything was on the line, his tongue practically scooped at your walls like he was trying to get every last drop into him. Your hips bucked up, but he kept you pressed down, and your hand that had found its way into his hair seemed to work on its own.

"Ah... fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," you shook your head against the mattress and you bundled his hair into your hands. "San, fuck, just like that," your moans grew louder with every circular motion he made. He sucked on your clit and, like that, you were undone. Your thighs pressed against his hands while your pussy clenched around his tongue, but not once did he let up, no, instead he picked up the pace. You rode through your first orgasm with him already building up your second one, but before you could get there, he rose up, wiping his mouth with the palm of his hand.

His hand presses against your pussy now, middle finger tracing the lips so gently. "Baby, I hope you weren't planning on enjoying the party, cuz you're in for a night," he chuckles. He kisses you again, with the slight bitter aftertaste of you on his tongue. He presses two fingers into you and your breath hitches again, then it's stolen by him, who deepened the kiss. You moaned against him, and you squirmed each time he pressed against your g-spot.

"San, ah," your voice shook and you pressed your head against the mattress again, trying your best to control yourself. He pressed his thumb against your clit and a high-pitched sound bubbled up your throat. He rolled it in small circles and your breathing picked up. His fingers plunged into you and your hands groped toward his cock. You gripped onto the waistband of his boxers, making small tugging motions that grew in intensity with each thrust. You finally pulled them down and he kicked it off. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and pumped it up and down. "Ah, wait, I'm cumming," your handjob slowed to a halt right as you felt your pussy clamping around him.

"Fuck, (Y/N)," his hand slows and he pulls his hand out. "Open." Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and San shoved his fingers inside your cheek, lipstick smearing under his thumb. His cock lined up at your pussy and he pushed into you.

"Oh fuck," you moaned. San gripped onto your chin now, his other hand holding onto the bedframe behind you while he worked his cock into you. Every time he'd pull out and push back in his cock went deeper into you, until finally, his hips hit yours.

"Made just for me, huh?" He grins. He nods your head up and down for you and you breathed out a shaky moan as he readjusted. "What's that new guy of yours gonna say when he finds out you're just a cock hungry slut?" He thrusts into you. "You're going to send him running." You tried to shake your head but he held you still while he pumped his cock into you. You held onto his wrist and tried to pull his hand off, but when you figured he wasn't budging, you grabbed onto the sheets under you instead.

"I... I'm going to cum," you choked out.

"Hold it."

"Ah... I can't," your hips rose to meet his. "I can't, please let me cum."

"I swear to god, if you cum, I'm going to send a picture of how fucked up you are to him." Every muscle in your body tensed. He released your face and grabbed your phone from wherever it had landed. He only paused for a second, just long enough for him to pull up the text conversation you had with your poor date. He raises the phone up and takes a picture, cock still inside of you and makeup messed up and all. He turned your phone around to show you, his thumb dangerously close to the send button.

"Don't, oh fuck, don't send that to him, please," you begged him. San placed the phone on the nightstand and started to pick up the pace. "San, don't send that to him."

"Don't cum then, easy as that," San leaned over you attaching his lips to your neck. "You can do it," he encouraged you, but his hand started to play with your clit and you could feel your head spinning.

"Fuck..." your words trailed off. You couldn't stop moaning now, and San grunting into your ear didn't help. You felt him bite down on your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your collarbone. He lifts you off of the bed and moves under you. He grabs your hips and held you steady while he pistoned up into you. "San!" You grabbed onto the headboard.

"Say my name again," his thrusts started to get faster. "Say it!"

"San! Just like that, fuck, please let me cum," your head fell on his shoulder and your hands wrapped around his neck. You pressed sloppy kisses under his ear and San groaned. Then, to your horror and to his amusement, your phone started vibrating on the table. San stopped and you cried.

"Oho, who's that?" San's head turned and you grabbed his wrist before he could even think of reaching for your phone.

"Don't," you looked into his eyes and San's smile only grew.

"Oh, I won't answer it, that's fucked," he says. "You will, though."

"No..." you shook your head and he grabbed your phone, holding it up for you.

"Answer it, (Y/N). You don't want to break the poor guy's heart, do you?" He teases you. "Don't mind me, I'll just be here," he adjusts himself to be more comfortable. "We can continue after," he says. But you knew him, you knew that look in his eyes. You made a move to pull out of him, but he held your hips down. He slid his thumb across the phone, the call connecting.

"Hey, (Y/N)," you heard Mark's voice. "I hope you don't mind that I called out of the blue, like this." You held your breath and San looked at the phone. "(Y/N)?"

"Hi, hey, Mark," your voice was weak.

"Whoa, I call at a bad time?" San shook his head. "What are you up to?"

"I'm just," your voice hitched up when San started to lightly move his hips, "I'm at the gym, is all."

"Oh! No wonder, you sound tired!"

"Just a little," you answered. "Why did you call?" You tried to move off of San again, but he pulled you down. He leaned forward and kissed under your jaw while he placed the phone down next to you.

"No big reason, I just wanted to hear your voice, is all." San licked up your jawline and captured your lips with his before you could respond. "Sorry, was that weird?" You moaned quietly.

"No, no, I don't mind," you answered quickly. San began to thrust into you again. "Look, Mark, I'll... I'll talk to you later, you kind of caught me at a bad time," you glanced down at where your bodies connected and you bit down on your lip.

"Yeah! It's no biggie, I'll see you tomorrow! Pick you up at eight?" San hung up the call and flipped you down onto the bed, your breasts pressed up against the comforter and his hand on your head.

"You're joking, right?" His tone takes on a new sardonic one. "Mark, that nerd?" He laughs and pulls out of you, cock landing between your ass cheeks. "Come on, (Y/N), talk about a fucking downgrade, you two even fuck yet?"

"Yes," you answered.

"Wait, wait, let me rephrase that," you felt his cock prodding at your entrance. He places your phone in front of you, the camera turned on. You almost wanted to look away from it, but he stopped you from doing so. You noticed the red square at the bottom of it. "Has he even made you cum yet?" He asks you. You shook your head and San thrust into you again. You moaned and hid your face away while he fucked you into the mattress. "You really think he can get you as dumbfucked as I do?" You shook your head. "Cum." You did so, your throat was burning from all the times he left you screaming. Your pussy pulsated around his cock and he turned you around again so that you could face him. He grabbed your face with his hand and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. He practically chewed down on your mouth now while chasing after his own orgasm. He grabs your phone again and your legs wrapped around his waist. "Look at that, look at you," he holds the phone over you and you wiped the trail of saliva from the corner of your mouth. He ends the video and tosses your phone aside. "Admit it, (Y/N), no one fucks you the way I do," he pushes into you and you felt his cock tense inside of you.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me harder," you nodded your head and he cummed inside of you. You saw white spots around your vision as you felt him filling you. You fell limp against the bed and he lifted you up, you were only being supported by his arms around you now while he continued to shallow thrust into you. You were just struggling to catch your breath while you were slumped over him. "God, I fucking love you," the phrase just slipped out. Your voice was hoarse and your mind blank, but somehow your words still held weight. San just responds by kissing you softly.

"Dammit, (Y/N), I never stopped," he mutters against your tender lips and somehow this still felt sweet. San lays you down on the bed, still kissing you and still inside of you. How he's still hard was beyond you, so you knew he wasn't going to stop just yet. He separated from you and you held his face to stop him from going further.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" He asks quietly. Your hand falls to his neck.

"I still love you," you pulled him down onto you and he moans against your lips, a newfound fervor in his movements. "Fuck, I love you and it's driving me insane." You chanted it like it was a mantra. It was true. In all of the dates you'd gone on and in all of the hookups you've had, you always found yourself comparing them to your first love, your first boyfriend. And here you were, still fucking him after breaking up with him so long ago.

"Say it again," he fucked you at his own pace, cum gushing out around his cock and spotting the bed.

"I love you," you repeated. "I know I shouldn't, but I love you."

"Fuck, (Y/N)," he said before kissing you. He cummed inside of you again, it was less intense than before, but it was enough to leave you spiraling. You pressed your hips down on him and he groaned. "You're insatiable."

"You're worse," you fired back. "You're worse because you keep making me come back," you held his face in your hands.

"You make it hard to leave," he pulls out of you, cum flowing out of your pussy. You caught your breath now while San rolled next to you.

"I'm about to break that poor boy's heart," you grabbed your phone and your heart stopped. "Oh fuck."

"Whoops," San glances over you to see the sent audio message.

"I'm dropping out of orgo," you turned your phone off and rolled toward him, your face against his chest. "I can never look at him again, oh fuck."

"Well, shit happens, (Y/N)," he wraps his arm around you and rubs your back. "You okay though? Not sore anywhere?"

"Not yet, I'll call you tomorrow to let you know."

"Call me tomorrow?" He looks at you quizzically. "Nah, you're coming home with me tonight."

"Huh?"

"No, I'm not letting you go home looking like that," he grabs your dress from the floor and places it on the bed next to you. "This is hot, by the way." He pulls his shirt over his head.

"Is it?" You pulled the dress on.

"Yeah, you look good in black," he picks up your panty and shoved it in his pockets.

"Hey, I need that," you toss him his belt.

"Not tonight, you won't," he tosses his keys in his hand.

"San!" You follow him out of the room just in time for Yeosang and Wooyoung to stumble out of the bathroom.

"Good luck getting home, assholes," San chides at them. They drunkenly looked between the both of you.

"Did you two fuck?!" Wooyoung shouts over the music. But his question ultimately went unanswered while you followed San out of the party.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

[nightswithkookmin]

Vmin and common goals

Someone just commented on a recent post how VMin may have chosen not to serve because they had different goals towards their MS.

now I don't dispute that at all, everyone in BTS have their own goals and objectives.

we've seen Vmin interact over the years and we are all very well aware that Vmin's friendship has never been predicated on commonality.

In deciding teams, they aren't always going over and beyond to be team mates because they have common grounds- commonality is a Tae Kook thing. It's established fact in the Fandom.

We have spent so many blogs spelling out the uniqueness of each ship in BTS and BTS themselves have by themselves explained what each person means to them over and over again.

For Jungkook, Tae is the one he has common grounds with. So no, I don't expect Vmin to have common goals towards their MS. They are Mars and Jupiter and rarely gravitate towards the same things.

While V wanted to flaunt his shaved head around Jimin was much reserved on that note and who does he turn to? Jk.

The foundation of Vmin's relationship while not built around common interests and goals is built on mutual respect, love and appreciation for who they each are. It's built on the mutual need for support and holding space- safe space emotionally and spiritually for each to replenish, heal and grow together.

On that, Vmin has always, to me being more superior to any other ship in BTS because to me that sort of intimacy between people is priceless.

Having someone you lean on, tell your secrets to, share your vulnerabilities with, be there for you at your lowest point fight for you and defend you is just divine and any one who has this level of intimacy from another human being is truly blessed.

Jikook are that too- is what we are saying. They are that and more.

If you pay close attention to the sort of conversations they say they have- coupled with their need to be both emotionally and physically close to eachother it doesn't take much to figure out that those two are intimate partners too.

You can't hide intimacy I keep saying.

So given as Jikook and Vmin are both intimately close to each other, you should understand why I think Jikook just ended Vmin if physical and emotional support and companionship is the reason they chose to go into MS together.

This is not about common goals. If it were, Tae Kook would have been the ones to serve together. They live for the thrill and adventure. There's a reason there's so many conspiracy and misunderstanding around Tae Kook's friendship with the constant, they said they both wanted this, they both wanted that but someone or big bad hybe is keeping them apart.

Except now it's not hybe, it's his tattoos getting in his way. They say.

It would make so much sense for Tae Kook to serve together too if the whole reason for choosing to be comps hinged on their goals.

Tae talked about his goals for MS in the live and he talked about wanting to build his body and becoming strong physically so he doesn't get shoved around and so he can do lots of concerts. He said he's taking risks with his unit but knows exactly what he is doing.

What are Jungkook's goals too? What is informing his decision to go with Jimin? Why not go with Namjoon then?

We've seen Jungkook hesitate to choose teams where Jimin was in a team which conflicted with his goals. We've seen him cheat to be on teams with Jimin even though he said he didn't want to be on that team. We've seen him say he want one group but end up in a group with Jimin- if a person keeps acting this way isn't his goal Jimin? To be wherever JM is?

Isn't that a sign of severe form of attachment too?

If Vmin's attachment is soulmates what the heck is Jikook's attachment is my question cos those two attachment is very nuanced between them.

If it's all about common goals he knows what he needed to do to achieve those goals and yet here he is. Picking trash at dawn and falling in line.

Jikook is a special kind of love.

And has it occurred to anyone they are each other's companions? Years ago I kept saying idols need companionship to function else they will mentally expire. I screamed at hybe to let Tae have a girlfriend or boyfriend because his need for intimacy wasn't being fully met and that was taking a toll on him.

I said Jikook don't look like they have intimacy issues to me. Out of all the boys, they were the ones most content.

But has it occurred to anyone that perhaps they were content and could be highly functional because they each propped the other up?

TRUE COMPANIONSHIP.

If JM wasn't in JK's life I doubt he could have BTS at all. Which is facts given as he nearly even left the group but for Jimin asking him to stay.

Jimin grounds him when he's up in his idealistic adventurism.

Jimin is there to remind him why he is there. To remind to be subservient and not so rebellious, to comfort him when he's under mental pressure from trying to conform to a life so out of his realm of possibility. He is non conformist at his core and MS is bound to be tough on him.

Listent to the members when they say even Angel Hobi seems tamed.

That place will tame Jungkook and its going to be hard on him.

Jimin is what the doctor ordered.

This is about companionship plain and simple. Let's call a spade a spade and not a big fat spoon.

Do you know Jimin's goals towards serving too????

He doesn't want to gain weight, he can't stand being away for 1.5 years, it's going to drive him mad.

THIS IS JIKOOK CHOOSING THEIR MENTAL HEALTH AND SANITY OVER THEIR NEED FOR ADVENTURISM OR WILD EXPERIENCES.

And the fact Jimin is all this for V and he didn't choose this over his desire to chase the thrill tells you just what he values and prioritizes.

He has psyched himself up. He can do this with or without Jimin but for Jikook they need eachother and that more important to them.

Nevermind that, even married couples breakup where their goals and priorities don't aline and they go another way. So no, don't tell me this make or break moment is because they have different goals as if that in itself don't matter.

And sure, since they are just friends we can forgive that. It's not really a big deal honestly. I will ditch yall for pussy too🥲

And yes we have seen Jimin Ditch V over and over for the D- remember when he called V crying and V asked him to come over but turns out he was in JK's room caressing phone screens with him?

If Vmin's goals don't align that's fine, Jikook's aligned perfectly well.

The universe must be pulling strings on their behalf.

They will come out even more closer than before and watch then explain how it's because of their shared experiences in the ditch

JIKOOK RULES. ITS GAME OVER FOR ALL SHIPS.

CLOSED CASKET!

[justanamesstuff]

I wasn’t going to do this because I thought it was cheesy and corny and not many care. but I care and this was my blog for the last few years, even though it changed a lot more a year ago (blame the 1975 for that blessing hehe). So here I go....

First thing i have to say is THANK YOU. I’m not just saying it, I really mean it from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for all the support, for all the interactions, for many many memories I’ll tell --to whoever listens to my rants-- when my elderly days come haha. Thank you for being so nice to me, thank you for starting conversations when I was/am too shy to start those because you are all so cool and I feel a bit intimidated. I’ll never forget that you were there with me during the hardest time I had to go through (still am) when my dad passed away…I wasn’t expecting that level of affection and love but you proved me otherwise. Thank you for all that and more.

Secondly, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the fics i didn’t read and support, I’m sorry for the comments I didn’t leave. I’m sorry for all the things I promised to write, post, but never get to do. I’m sorry for the moments you expected me to be there and I wasn't, not because I didn’t want, only because I was too focused on the shit I was going through that moment even though it’s not an excuse. I’m sorry if any comment I made hurt someone (I hope this never happened but if it’s the case…I’m sorry). I’m sorry for all the typos and mistakes I’ve made hehe.

Something I also want to say is the fact that I had many good moments here…I've met people that I can call friends and I hope they will be in my life for the rest of it. The 75tumblr gave me more than what I can return. I only had one really bad experience that only made me appreciate my mutuals and friends much more...you have always been so nice and supportive that nothing or no one can overshadow that <333

I want to speak more about the great people I’ve met here…there are so many, I’m that lucky!! I love my mutuals, my friends, and everyone I got a chance to interact with here. When the first months of being part of the fandom went by, I was so surprised about the family feeling and the positivity going around it. This fandom is beautiful beyond compare, it has its difficult moments from time to time but like any family right? Each and every one of you is incredible…so kind, so talented and so supportive of the guys and the rest of the community created specially here. That’s something to applaud and be proud of every day!!

I have to say thank you to the guys because through them, I’ve met you…and specifically because they arrived into my life during one of the hardest moments of my anxiety and depression. The four of you meant so much to me that it’s incredibly difficult to put into words without thinking of Matty rolling his eyes at me in my imagination 😅😅 I love the four muppets so much!

Well, I won’t extend this more so…it’s been a pleasure guys! I love you all as I always try to tell you, I’ll love you for the rest of my days! And I hope universe, god, life, whatever crosses our paths again somehow.

All the love,

Ro

[julietsbb]

So I saw fans on twitter saying they were disappointed we didn’t get the aftermath of the soft phumpeem kiss from last week (which, valid and same), but then I also saw some say that phumpeem were acting as if it had never happened in this ep. This I vehemently disagreed with and ended up doing like 20 tweets about why >.>

I figured I would share my thoughts here too, because might as well, my phumpeem brainrot is pretty strong and tumblr deserves phumpeem thoughts too!

I do Not think they are acting like it didn’t happen. Peem is acting much more ‘engaged’ with Phum this episode.

1) he doesn’t seem annoyed with him seriously at any point

2) despite hurrying off when he sees Phum show up, he still opens conversation with him by asking if he wants to come on the first ride with him. They have a mutual back and fourth during the ep, Peem is much more willing to engage, also seen when

3) Peem *texts Phum first* and says he’s gonna show up at his place. Like we SEE how surprised Phum is about this. DEVELOPMENT.

4) the *flirting banter at the café* is on a new level. It’s much more mutually aware that there’s something more between them! The Phum before last week’s ep could tease him about ‘oh are you looking at me because I’m handsome?’ but could not, in my personal opinion, have said ‘oh so you’re saying I’m not special to you? 😏’ - the way they’re both leaning in over the counter really says it all - they’re much more ‘meeting in the middle’ with their interactions/flirtations than before, where, until the kiss, (and please correct me if I’m wrong here), it was much more only Phum who initiated and Peem who responded in one way or another.

5) we also see this meeting in the middle thing when Peem has been teasing him about joining the amusement park rides (btw me 🤝 Phum about those fr), where he teases him into joining, and is ENJOYING phum’s reactions, because they both have fun fucking with each other, but he also knows not to take it too far. Like how Phum’s orders were douchebaggy in nature first, but turned teasing/pigtail pulling/‘I just want your atteeenttionnnn~~~’ later.

tl;dr they’re both much more aware of where they stand and the dance they’re doing after the last ep and it’s NOT as if the second kiss didn’t happen, there’s been a noticeable shift in how they interact.

But if they know this, have become more self-aware, why aren’t they just boyfriends already, you might ask?

WELL, I believe there’s character reasons for this.

We know Peem is in the process of figuring out exactly what his feelings for Phum are, so even if he’s more open to it, is enjoying exploring it, he hasn’t settled on his ‘final answer’ yet. Also, as he mentions to Q, they had an atypical beginning to their acquaintance, so to speak. Also I’m sure there’s many parts of Phum he’s struggling to understand. He’s often visibly confused by who he is/his character, so he probably doesn’t feel ‘certain’ about him yet. Also I bet Peem has personal reasons to maybe not wanting to let someone too close, which I hope later episodes will delve into.

As for Phum, he’s very aware that he’s extremely drawn to Peem and likes him a lot, he’s just a doofus who really doesn’t know how to be open with his emotions, probably to anyone other than Fang. We know he’s only (often alone in his flat, mentions Peem is introducing him to social experiences he hasn’t had before, only beer & fang would play with him etc.) plus it seems like he has had extremely absent parents and has a very strained relationship with his father especially. He probably has 0 frame of reference for what a relationship looks like AND was never taught how to communicate his emotions. That’s why his default setting to ‘new people’ was poser-ish probably; my guess is that’s probably what he saw his parents doing. He’s only starting to open up re: his emotions *because of* meeting Peem, who refuses to take his shit and refuses to let him get away with hurtful nonsense and whom Phum suddenly realises he doesn’t want mad at him and he doesn’t want to hurt.

We see him struggle to navigate this as well. He doesn’t know when or how to apologise, asks his friends for advice because he’s struggling to even *see* how he fucked up at all.Phum was probably treated like that by his parents and his parents acted like that was okay and didn’t apologise, so why should he?

Phum literally says “i don’t know how to make you less angry” and suggests Peem keeps the stuff he bought because maybe his parents had tried to placate him with material gifts? Beer’s advice is to apologise and he does it 3 times because he literally has no idea what else to do.

tl;dr 2: Peem is confused and uncertain in parts still + potential other stuff and phum does not know how to constructively and productively talk about and act on his emotions or express what he wants based on that. Emotional needs & wants? What are those, how do I detect them & like, asking for help to have them met? Is that something you can even do? <- Phum probably

[dismounts soapbox]

[lookinghalfacorpse]

You don't have to respond to this one, but @ your last tags on the found family trope post, I can't say I haven't been curious if anything like that was ever the case. You've been so careful in painting everyone's relationship to be on trust and healthy reliance on one another in times of need, and Techno + Dream definitely have something more intimate and close going on (which I deeply appreciate btw- I couldn't bear it if someone tried to stick itwall!Dream as a brother to Techno, or put him in alongside Wilbur as a son figure to Phil :shudders:), so I'm VERY curious how detailed those thoughts have gotten at any point in time /lh /but genuine

(talking about my semi-cursed tags on this post)

yes i can talk about this all day !! i think the dynamic that doomsday trio brings is fascinating, and i don't blame those who see it as a nuclear family dynamic because i think the comparison does work in some places, but it's more complicated than that. i touched on it (in vaguely poetic terms) in this post, but i can give more detail here.

c!philza is an old man and an experienced father, and his instinct as a guardian is strong. this is the closest we get to a nuclear family format in itwall; phil definitely calls on some of his skills as a father when he helps dream, but it's a bit more complex than that. phil recognizes that dream is an adult in human years and doesn't need to be babied (hell, he doesn't even baby Wilbur, his own son who's around the same age!). dream needs care, he needs a mentor, and he needs a better self-preservation instinct before he kills himself. i think their relationship is closer to ancient grecian mentorship than fatherhood/sonhood, the only difference is that the mentee is on death's door for a while and needs some extra attention. phil sees himself in dream, dream sees phil as someone he might like to be, and there's a level of mutual respect there.

i also think that techno and dream have a sense of brotherhood, but in the same way that two athletic teammates have a brotherhood. they have a long history of trust between them, with room for playfulness and teasing. there's a lack of touch aversion (which is HUGE for dream), and dream initiates more of their touches (as opposed to phil, where he tends to be more submissive) (i'm thinkin about ch 12 & ch 19).

and, of course, techno & phil have a complicated relationship of their own. i'm always annoyed by headcanons that techno is phil's son-- we see plenty of interactions where they mutually worry over each other and care for each other. the will is Not written like a boy talking to his father. these two are lifelong partners, and that letter is written to someone who techno knows will understand him and trusts to carry out the more sentimental, intangible tasks, like talking to niki and ranboo, with very little instruction.

highly oversimplified but this is the idea. Techno and dream have similar relationships with phil but it's not really sonhood. all built on trust. they've proven to each other that they will keep each other safe.

and honestly.. none of those relationships would have to exclude sex or intimacy. equals/partners can have sex. comrades can have sex. mentors/mentees can have sex (i think people feel weird about this one, but again: think Ancient Grecian). i have Quite A Few scenes in my head about how their sexual relationships might work (especially in the early days when dream isn't feeling good...). i guess in light of everyone being more open about shipping i would consider writing them, i'd just keep them here instead of ao3.

i think both phil and techno consider dream to be heartstoppingly lovely. i think dream would love to be loved. i think phil&techno and techno&dream may have had some encounters Before the start of itwall, so it would just be a matter of tying it all together.