#one of these days i'll finally kick off this blog

[la-chacha-gris]

I postponed it (it was supposed to be last Friday), but here's the second weekly compilation of posts I think are relevant. Not all of them are included, but the ones I think are valuable beyond the graphical aspect are. Presented with links like a web magazine summary, this is a resource for the absent-minded follower or those who don't log in daily and are afraid of missing out.

Aplacé para este jueves (tocaba el viernes anterior) pero aquí está la segunda recopilación semanal de posts que creo relevantes. No están todos, pero sí los que creo que son valiosos más allá de lo gráfico. Presentados sus links como sumario de web magazine, esto es recurso para despistado seguidor o aquel que no se conecte a diario y teme perderse cosas.

Whenever possible, I'd like to kick off the Zebrazines by taking you to a select Ask of the week. I've been enjoying one these days that's become a tribute to having a blog because it's good for you, like taking care of your garden. LINK.

Cuando sea posible, me gustaría empezar los Zebrazines llevándoos a un Ask selecto de la semana. Estos días me ha gustado uno que se convierte en canto a un blog tener porque es bueno para ti mismo como es cuidar tu jardín. ENLACE.

I think the highlight of the collection is the article you see in the screenshot next to this text, whose link is HERE. What is it? My umpteenth attempt to explain what I study as a hobby.

El plato fuerte de la recopilación creo que es el artículo que ven en captura al lado de este texto y cuyo link tienen AQUÍ. ¿Qué es? Mi enésimo intento de explicar qué es lo que estudio por hobbie.

It's not all about nudity, desire, and phantasmagoria… I wrote this article about the inner peace that comes from organizing personal collections at home and against the trend of Kondo's Japanese minimalism. The text is HERE.

It's not all about nudity, desire, and phantasmagoria… I wrote this article about the inner peace that comes from organizing personal collections at home and against the trend of Kondo's Japanese minimalism. The text is HERE.

We have a short edited text on the mental mechanisms that make suggestive sexy HERE

Tenemos un breve texto reeditado sobre los mecanismos mentales que hacen de lo sugerente sexy AQUÍ

A text I didn't plan but came up with THIS: a declaration of principles or tastes regarding the artistic female nude? I can't easily link the dialogue between several blogs through photo posts and commented reblogs, but my final statement is linked there in this paragraph.

Un texto que no planeé pero me salió, es ESTA ¿declaración de principios o gustos sobre el desnudo artístico femenino? No puedo enlazar tan fácil el diálogo entre varios blogs por medio de posts con foto y posts en reblog comentados, pero mi alegato final lo tienen ahí enlazado en este párrafo.

Continuing with photography, I insist this week that you take a moment to look at the collection of model Hibiki Tokiwa… smoking. Yes, just smoking. The wonderful thing is the iteration of that theme without repeating itself. Especially THIS post where I thank a friendly blog for compiling them (it's not that I'm clever, it's that I surround myself with interesting people and things and something rubs off on me).

Continuando con la fotografía, insisto esta semana en que le dediquen un rato a ver la colección de la modelo Hibiki Tokiwa… fumando. Sí, solo fumando. Lo maravilloso es la iteración de ese tema sin repetirse. Cuento más a ESTE post donde agradezco a blog amigo el que las recopila (no es que sea lista, es que me rodeo de gente y cosas interesantes y algo se me contagia)

In movies, I pointed out Baba Yaga (1973, Italy) because I was curious about this adaptation of a contemporary arthouse comic. The movie… well, I don't know if it gives me any insight into the comic itself (I'll have to read it then), but it's VERY peculiar and includes passages with Prussian helmets? and what we would now call BDSM in mainstream movies. The post and where to watch it legally are HERE.

En pelis os señalé Baba Yaga (1973, Italia) porque tenía curiosidad sobre esta adaptación de un cómic artie de su tiempo. La peli.. pues no sé si me da un idea del cómic en sí (lo tengo que leer entonces) pero es MUY peculiar e incluye pasajes con cascos ¿prusianos? y lo que llamaríamos ahora BDSM en peli mainstream. El post y donde ver legal AQUÍ.

More modern (2019) and more BDSM you will find this other movie HERE that you should not use as a manual for anything, be careful.

Más moderna (2019) y más BDSM encontrareis esta otra peli AQUÍ que tampoco debéis usar como manual de nada, ojo.

[ONLY SPANISH]No podía pasar mucho tiempo sin compartiros libros que encontraba y sumaba a mi cola de lectura por los temas de este blog… Así que esta semana ha sido este ¿Más datos sobre él? Cuento y doy enlace AQUÍ.

Y este otro de Mark Fisher AQUÍ

More stuff? Well, I said a few words about the recent milestone of @chacha-shitposts secondary blog. The post about the purpose of this secondary project and its fate is HERE.

Más cosas? Bueno, dije unas palabras por el reciente hito de @chacha-shitposts el blog secundario. El post sobre la función de este proyecto secundario y su destino AQUÍ.

Even better, here I remembered (and reminded myself) the reason for Zebrazine. Read HERE/Aún más, bueno, aquí recordaba (y me recordaba a mi misma) el por qué del Zebrazine. Leed AQUÍ.

Well, I'm adjusting my schedule and productivity (I hope this is timely and there's enough interesting material each week), so I hope we'll have a third Zebrazine next Thursday. Sorry for the delay, and if you don't read me regularly, have a good week!

Bueno, estoy ajustando tiempos y productividad (que sea esto puntual y cada semana haya material bastante de interes) así que espero que el próximo jueves tendremos un tercer Zebrazine. Perdonad el retraso de este, y si no me lees de habitual, pasa una buena semana!

[hannieween]

fault lines | wicked games series

You didn’t want to think of it—about the finality of your love life. About how fleeting story with Wonwoo was. But you realized, the end had started the moment you both kissed.

☾ pairings: jeon wonwoo x female reader ☾ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ☾ aus: bartender wonwoo, bartender mingyu, messy love triangle, friends with benefits, right person wrong time ☾ word count: 12.1k

› PREVIOUS CHAPTERS – READ MORE

🎧: give more care less – bibi | in the blur of the rain – jiwoo | fall in lust – eden, jiselle | blame – i.m

☾ warnings: smut with plot, hurt/comfort, crying, breakups, fighting verbally and physically, mentions of blood and minor injury. soft dom wonwoo, reader is a bit bratty, body worship, oral sex, fingering, spanking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, hard fucking to comfort fuck, love making, making out, creampies, crying after sex. reader is chubby. pet names: baby, (hers) babe (his)

☾ author's note: it's finally here! sorry for the absence, i'll explain more in my second author's note at the end of the chapter.

this chapter has another long sex scene. it's 3k words long i'm sowwy. i'm sorrrrrry, i'm ovulating and i live vicariously through my yns lolololol tmi tmi aaahh.

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and do not to look like a bot 🙂

fault lines

Jeon Wonwoo knocked on your door, knowing that it would be the end.

Because when you opened it, he could see it in your eyes. You had been crying, your skin was blotchy, and your eyelashes were clumped with tears. You lifted your gaze to meet him, and your lips parted, forming a word that never made it out.

Wonwoo couldn’t resist himself. Taking one step towards you, he wrapped you in a big, tight hug, hiding his face on the curve of your neck.

You gasped as you were completely embraced in his warmth and his scent. But you reciprocated the hug, wrapping your arms around him too.

“How are you?” he asked softly, lifting his head from your neck and stepping back.

“I’m… okay,” you said without making eye contact with him.

You closed the door just as he was removing his backpack from his shoulders and kicking his slip Vans off. You could see from the corner of your eye that he was trying to search your face, so you turned to the couch, dragging your feet towards it.

He followed you, sighing as the suspense hanging in the air threatened to strip him of his sanity. He knew that you had seen Mingyu earlier in the day, and he didn’t see Mingyu after your conversation, so he essentially knew nothing about what happened. Only the tremble in your voice told him that things hadn’t come out well for you.

And now that he could see the state you were in, he suspected the worst.

He swallowed hard, waiting for you to finish gathering your words. You pushed your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly in what Wonwoo had now categorized as a way to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Talk to me, please,” Wonwoo asked after a moment of silence.

You stopped looking into the void, your teary eyes finding him. “I’m pulling the brakes,” you muttered with a shaky tone.

Wonwoo understood immediately. But his already heavy heart sank, leaving his chest with a hollow sensation that he could only try to push down by clearing his throat. “I understand,” he nodded, looking down at his lap, where his finger fidgeted with the pocket of his cargo pants.

Silence fell in the room, made heavy by the tight feeling in his chest.

He told you he would accept your choice.

This was what you were choosing.

You hadn’t chosen him.

“Did you decide to give Mingyu a second chance?” Wonwoo asked. His tone was low, weakened with the anxiousness he was trying to swallow down.

You didn’t answer at first, making him raise his head to search your face. Something inside him eased when you shook your head. “We talked, but he didn’t ask for a second chance,” you mumbled, shifting your arms around you. “I think I need time. I need to think about what I really want… about what I need.”

He nodded, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. He experienced something that he hadn’t in a long time. One thing that he knew he would feel when he decided to kiss you for the first time. He felt the centre of his chest ache, the feeling spreading through his veins like some kind of poison.

It was heartbreak. 

“What do you want to do?” Wonwoo asked, realizing that his tone had thickened. But it didn’t matter, he still looked you in the eye. “Do you want me to go now?”

You bit your lower lip, shaking your head slowly. “Would it be selfish of me to ask you to keep me company tonight?” you whispered fearfully, lowering your gaze from him. “I understand if you want to leave. I just don’t want to be alone.”

It was then that Wonwoo understood one painful thing.

Initially, he had convinced himself that his role in this situation was to be your rebound. He had accepted being with you, fully aware that you were still hurting over Mingyu. But as time went on, he no longer felt like that was the case for you.

And he finally understood Mingyu. 

“Do you really want to pull the brakes?” he asked.

That made you look at him again. The question had touched something inside you, because you looked into his eyes and a spark of fear appeared in yours. “No, I don’t want to,” you muttered, your tone quivering with the same tinge of that spark.

He understood why Mingyu couldn’t leave before it got too late. Love came easily to you. You loved so easily and with such eagerness that it became addictive. Mingyu needed that when he met you. And Wonwoo… he was convinced he didn’t need love, he didn’t need anyone.

But that was before he met you.

“Why are you doing it, then?”

You shrugged, still wrapping your arms around your knees. “I’m confused,” you said, your tone waning and turning whispery. “And scared that I’ll hurt Mingyu,” you lowered your gaze again. “Or you.”

He nodded, also lowering his gaze. He knew that, like you, he would have to make a decision. One that was difficult for him, but in the end, he always knew it would come down to this.

He locked eyes with you. “I’ll stay tonight.”

Your features hardened slightly. “What are your conditions?”

“I’ll tell Mingyu about us,” he said, his tone becoming raw with emotion when he saw your eyes widen and brim with tears again. “I’m sorry, but I have to tell him.”

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding with small motions. You had thought for a split second to protect Mingyu’s emotions. But you knew that it was futile. “I agree. He has to know.”

He leaned toward you, wanting to get closer to you, grab your hand or something. “I’ll leave you alone. You won’t hear from me unless you want to,” he said, becoming impossible for him to speak, his throat was closing up. “I’ll let you have your space.”

You were sobbing more, tears kept rolling down your cheeks as you stared at your own hands. You nodded, unable to speak up.

Wonwoo licked his lips in a feeble attempt to keep his feelings at bay. But he leaned closer to you, now within reach to cup your face, commanding your gaze to him. “I believe that the first step toward healing is to stop punishing yourself for everything.”

Your gaze softened. “I am responsible for all of this,” you countered, your eyebrows knitting as anguish rose in your chest. “I’ve been selfish, and now look at what has happened.” Your eyes glistened, lip quivering. “Mingyu’s going to hate me.”

“He won’t hate you,” he asserted at once, his tone gentle. He threaded a piece of your hair with his fingers, tucking it behind your ear. “I’ll explain everything to him, he’ll understand. But don’t believe that he’ll hate you because that’s just not who he is.”

Your gaze changed. You wanted to believe the certainty in his words, but the burden in your heart made it impossible to do so.

A pause followed, tense and heavy with the silence that distanced you from Wonwoo. Your heart ached to take back your own words, you wished to be in a scenario in which it didn’t have to hurt so much to love him and Mingyu at the same time.

But you saw it now. The breach between the person you were now and the person you were with Mingyu. You almost didn’t recognize yourself. You were so eager to love Mingyu, so willing to give him your heart and accept the broken pieces of his. And now, you were on the other side, loving Wonwoo but with a broken heart.

You hated what you had become. You hated that your desire for love and to be loved had pushed you to do something you’d never imagined you would do.

“Can you forgive me?” you asked, your tone tiny and weary with tears.

Wonwoo’s gaze softened. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he immediately responded, even though his chest was constricted with an awful feeling.

Your shoulders eased, as though a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Wonwoo saw it too, and he outstretched an arm to you, grazing your elbow with the tips of his fingers.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your attention to him. “Come here,” he told you gently, holding his arms out for you.

You simply couldn’t resist. You crawled next to him, his arms wrapping around you in a hug. He immediately brought his lips to your head, kissing your hair.

“I think you’re doing what’s right,” he muttered, his mouth still close to your head, so he simply pressed his lips against yours again and again.

You giggled softly. His soft pecks trailed down until his lips met your ear, making you shudder in his arms, trying to recoil from the tickling sensation of his breath against the shell of your ear.

You turned over, now able to see his face.

Wonwoo was tired. That much you knew from just one look. He had dark circles around his eyes, and his lips were slightly dry. “What?” he whispered, studying your face as he waited for your answer.

He flashed you a smile that, though genuine, looked tired. You ran a hand under his chin, noting the slight stubble. “You could use a shave,” you whispered tenderly.

He smiled at you, raising his eyebrows a little. “Yeah? You don’t like it?”

“Oh no, I like it,” you asserted, your tone falling, inevitably turning honeyed. “I like it very much.”

“Do you want me to shave it?” he said, looking at your face as you rubbed the back of your fingers against his stubble.

“Only if you want to,” you shrugged ever so slightly. “I just think it’s out of character for you.”

He clicked his tongue. “Is it itchy when I kiss you?” he asked, the genuine curiosity in his tone was unmistakable.

“You haven’t really kissed me today,” you pointed out gently, your tummy tightening with anxiousness.

The corner of his lip curved lightly. “Is that an invitation to kiss you?”

You blinked slowly, a smile creeping on your face. “Maybe.”

“I don’t do maybe. It’s either yes or no,” he said softly, tracing the features of your face with his gaze, lingering on your lips and then returning to your eyes.

“Wonwoo.”

“Mm?” he hummed, slightly raising his eyebrows.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

A fluttering sensation went wild inside you at the sight of his smile, but this was fleeting as he dipped his head to meet your lips with his own. The first kiss was tender, marked by a sweetness that you almost compared to love. The moment stretched, and his lips lingered on your own, not kissing you anymore but not stepping back either.

Kissing you was like meeting the petals of a rose with his lips. Your lips were always soft, always welcoming. He loved kissing you like he loved listening to the sound of your laughter.

He swallowed hard, a shaky sigh coming out of him before he kissed you again. This time, the kiss was harder, more eager to feel your lips between his own. You instantly let out a short moan in his mouth, feeling the wetness of his full lips against your own.

Wonwoo tensed slightly against your body. He loved hearing the sounds he brought out of you. A thing stirred in his mind whenever he thought that it was he who made you feel this way. He dove into your lips again, kissing you fervently, showing you the need that was brimming inside him.

Wonwoo loved you. And this was the last time he would have a chance to prove it.

Something came over him. A feeling so desperate that he felt it shift beneath his skin, pushing him to kiss you harder, to lock his lips with yours with more fervency.

“I need you,” he whispered, his heart beating frantically in fear of rejection.

“Wonwoo—” you started, but cut yourself off with a short sigh. “Are you sure? I mean, what about tomorrow?”

“I can leave first thing in the morning,” he said, hating how desperate he sounded, but he had no choice but to give in to his heart’s desires. He closed his eyes, pushing his forehead against yours. “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

You slid your hands on his neck, locking your fingers to pull him into another kiss. Wonwoo hummed into the kiss, sliding his hands down to find your waist, tugging you to him.

You followed his silent command, crawling on top of his body and sitting down on his lap. “Is that what you want? To leave like nothing happened?” you asked right before diving on his lips again.

Wonwoo pulled back for a moment, his lips creating a soft smacking noise. “It wouldn’t be like nothing happened,” he said. His eyes studied your face for one long second. “It’ll give you the opportunity to start fresh. Without me.”

You knew what he meant. But that only drove the breach further, deepening your confusion. You wanted space to think, but you didn’t want to stop feeling this: his body next to yours, the comfort his words gave you. Maybe it was stupid to ask for space when you knew you didn’t want to be alone.

You needed to regain your sense of self.

Wonwoo felt your hesitation. You felt him pause, the slight shift when he took a shaky breath. “Please… just one more night,” he whispered carefully.

You could sense the desire in his words alone. But your heart was riddled with anxiety and sadness over this whole thing. “What if I can’t let you go afterwards?” you asked shakily.

“Then I’ll stay,” he replied firmly. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Hesitation came over you, tangled with questions and fears of what might happen if you had sex with him again. Your relationship with him was already twisted—and you knew that sleeping with him again would only complicate things more.

You had asked him to stay the night, but you hadn’t meant it that way. And you knew he knew this.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” he whispered.

Your heart faltered. It was crazy to you that he could sense what you were feeling with just a second of pure silence.

“Wait, I—” you started, bringing a hand to his chest over his clothes to push yourself back.

The first thing he did was study your face, as though he needed to gather every detail, every emotion you let show.

Something rewired in your brain—this was the last night you would get with him. This was a choice made purely by your inability to face your own guilt for hurting Mingyu. But if you had known back then that he was going to break up with you the day after spending the night in your bed, you would’ve done things differently.

You closed the tiny space between you and Wonwoo, touching his forehead with your own. “I do want it,” you whispered, a hint of fear making your tone quiver. “I just don’t want to hurt you more.”

His hand slipped beneath your chin. “Don’t worry about me,” he replied, his voice barely audible. He pressed his lips to your own for a long second, backing away slightly with a satisfying smacking sound. “I need you,” he whispered, making you feel the soft brushing of his lips against yours.

And that did it for you. You gave in, kissing him fully, locking your lips with his. He let out a strangled sound into the kiss when he felt you concede, when he felt your limbs starting to move, crawling on his lap.

His hands found the curve of your waist, pulling you in as you sat on top of him, lowering your crotch against his. You moaned slightly when you felt the tip of his tongue brush your lower lip, rolling inside your mouth with expert ease.

You grabbed his head, fingers slipping through his dark and messy hair. A raspy sound reverberated in his chest when you let your fingernails run on his scalp. He reacted impulsively, using his hands to press you harder against his body.

Hearing that sound and receiving that kind of reaction only fueled you more. Your fingers curled around his hair, and then you pulled, yanking his head back. He gasped softly when your lips separated, his eyes fluttering open to see your face.

“Fuck,” he whispered, swallowing nervously.

You arched an eyebrow. “I knew you liked having your hair pulled, but I didn’t know it was this bad,” you teased.

He blinked slowly, recovering. “Don’t get too excited,” he said, his voice low and raspy. But he smiled softly at you, his hands shifting from your waist to your thighs, pushing his fingertips onto your bare skin.

“Mmm,” you hummed, leaning to plant a taunting kiss on his wet lips. “You just gave me an idea,” you said playfully. Cradling the back of his head with your hands, you just grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling it firmly and slowly.

He let out a short, breathy laugh, his hands sliding down your legs, feeling your skin freely. “You keep giving me reasons to spank you,” he whispered, moving a hand to meet your cheek.

Your fingers relaxed around the strands of his hair. “That sounds like fun,” you smirked.

He brought you closer so he could press his lips against yours. “But I don’t want that right now,” he countered.

You trapped his lower lip between your teeth, making him gasp softly. “What do you want, then? Mm?” you asked sultrily, keeping your voice low.

His hand left your cheek, and a second later, you felt it playing with the hem of your tank top, lifting it so he could sneak his hand underneath. You flinched when his hand pressed in the small of your back, pressing gently.

“I want to make love to you,” he said, enunciating each word with a waning tone. “I want…” he sighed, and you understood that sound to be from wanton need. “I want to feel you. God, I need you.”

You smiled against his lips before kissing him again. “How?” you whispered. “How do you want me?”

He didn’t skip a beat. “Naked,” he said huskily. “I want to see you first.”

A shaky laugh escaped you, making you hide your face against the curve of his neck. He instantly flinched at the sensation of your breath fanning against his skin. You didn’t think you could have enough grace to give him a show, so you initially hid.

You heard a soft laugh from him, his hand snaking underneath your shorts, feeling your thigh. You responded by pressing your lips against his neck, kissing him tenderly, tauntingly.

A strangled sound landed against your ear. “Baby,” he drawled. But he tilted his head back, letting you shower him with kisses on his neck.

You slipped a hand down his chest, feeling him sigh and relax with your kisses while his hand travelled up your back. Your skin prickled at the caress of his fingers, making your nipples pert and harden.

You pressed your chest against his, lifting your head to kiss his lips. “Okay, I’m going,” you replied impishly, climbing off his lap clumsily.

Now standing before him, you were unable to hide from his gaze. You had to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from hyperventilating as you pinched your tank top with your fingertips, pulling it up your torso slowly.

He had to tilt his head back slightly to follow the travel of your tank top, revealing more and more skin as you got it off your body. You saw him part his lips, taking in a deep breath as his gaze roved all over your skin.

Something made you think that there was more in his eyes than just lust. Wonwoo just looked at you so slowly, so tenderly that for a second, you forgot that the moment was supposed to be sexy.

But his gaze darkened when you unclasped your bra, letting it fall on the floor. Your clothes were beginning to pile at your feet, but you didn’t care. You were now strangely allured by the way Wonwoo kept looking at you, as though he wanted to memorize everything.

You were his for tonight. And he wanted to enjoy it.

Your heart was pounding frantically when you slid your shorts down, stepping out of them. You were becoming increasingly more aroused as the seconds went by, and the unique sensation danced beneath your warm skin. You were sure the shyness was showing on the features of your face.

But he never blinked away. He swallowed hard when you discarded your panties, too, now fully naked in front of him.

He reached out to grab your hand, pulling you towards him. His other hand came to your hip as he leaned forward to press a kiss on your belly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin.

Your hands found the back of his head, cradling it as he littered your lower tummy with sweet kisses. His lips continued trailing down, meeting your mound. You flinched, pulling his hair as an automatic reaction.

He paused, sending you a dark look.

“Sorry,” you whispered sheepishly. “I need you.”

“Lie down on the couch,” he motioned to the space next to him.

Nervously, you followed his instruction as he rose to his feet, taking his jacket off and white t-shirt altogether. Your eyes followed him as he knelt on the floor, grabbing one of your legs and resting it on his shoulder.

He made no pause, wasted no time. He just leaned over, pressing his lips on your mound again before he started kissing your pussy. The feeling gave you whiplash, disconnecting you from reality for a moment. You let your head drop back, enjoying the feeling of his mouth against your folds, just teasing and kissing.

He licked a fat stripe of your arousal, humming softly as you tensed on the couch, letting him eat your pussy out. You cradled his head once again, dropping your mouth to let a long breath out.

There was a moment of silence. You were completely unable to voice out the pleasure you were subdued to, and Wonwoo was busy kissing your pussy. The only sounds you could hear were the smacking wet of his lips and tongue pleasuring you.

But he didn’t go far. He just kissed you, teased you—never deciding to take you higher.

“Wonwoo,” you called softly, lifting your head to see him.

You saw his lips wrapping around your clit, almost like making out with it. You understood that he wasn’t even trying to edge you, he just wanted to kiss your pussy, delight on the taste of it.

“Please… more,” you asked softly.

But he wasn’t stopping, nor giving you signs that he’d do what you were asking of him.

“Wonwoo, more,” you repeated more salaciously. But then, you bucked your hips, bumping his face with your cunt.

He groaned, pulling back from you. “Brat,” he reproached, lifting a hand and bringing it down on your thigh quite harshly.

You yelped pathetically. “Wonwoo—!”

“You wanted that, didn’t you?” he taunted, his eyes glinting with some kind of fascination.

You couldn’t reply vocally, just gaped at him before giving him a slow nod.

A smirk crept on his lips. “Is it too much to ask that you be a good girl for me?”

“I’m being good,” you replied with a playful tone.

“Yeah,” he sighed, raising his eyebrows. “Right.”

You closed your eyes as he lifted his hand again, slapping your thigh again. Your limbs tensed, but you couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching around nothing.

“Fuck,” you gritted, your skin getting hot and tingling from the fleeting pain.

Wonwoo rose to his feet, tucking his thumbs under the elastic band of his black sweatpants, pushing them down along with his boxers. And despite him not really giving you a show, you enjoyed the way his cock slapped his lower abdomen, standing fully hard.

“Get on the bed,” he snapped, motioning to your bed.

You were barely registering your limbs. But you stood up, walking to your bed with him following you. You were about to lie down on your bed when you felt his hand patting your ass gently.

“Hands and knees. Facing the headboard,” he said.

You crawled on your bed on your hands and knees, facing the wall. You itched to see him, to feel him again.

His hand cupped your pussy, his fingers sliding between your wet folds, smearing your arousal all over your cunt. His middle finger slipped inside your wet pussy, pushing inside your walls once, twice and then he pulled it out.

“Wonwoo,” you mewled, pushing your cunt against his hand.

“Hold onto the headboard, baby,” he said softly, and as you did, you felt his hands gripping your hips.

And then he pushed his dick in, not giving you warning, nor time to adjust. Wonwoo started thrusting his cock into your pussy in a near-feral pace. You moaned loudly, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you saw stars.

You realized that he was giving you what you wanted—to be fucked, hard and passionately. It was the only way he knew you felt alive, felt something.

The way he started moaning almost drove you to the edge. It wasn’t his cock, hitting that glorious spot repeatedly, it was the reactions he got form fucking your pussy hard and fast. Wonwoo was moaning, grunting almost. His hands gripping your waist started to squeeze your skin, barely holding himself back.

“God, fuck,” he sighed in pleasure. “I love how you squeeze around me, baby,” he said breathlessly. And you could almost picture his face riddled in pleasure, him tilting his head back, leaving his neck open, his throat bobbing.

“Wonwoo,” you cried out, holding onto the headboard that kept bumping against the wall. His hips snapping against yours were creating a very obvious sound, and you could no longer contain your moans.

So the room was quickly filled with the sound of hard sex. The slapping of skin, Wonwoo’s quiet but raspy moans and your cries of pleasure. You tried suppressing your sounds by biting your bottom lip, but the sounds instead sounded even more pathetic. You sounded almost like a whimpering animal.  

“Fuck, babe,” you sighed, unable to do something other than angling your hips for his ruthless thrusts. “Wonwoo—please, don’t stop,” you drawled languidly, verging closer to your release.

A moan came out of him, raspy and urgent, as though the sounds you were making for him were only inciting him further. “Fuck, you’re being so good for me, baby,” he praised.

The pleasure was nearly suffocating. You felt it everywhere, and you knew he wasn’t going to stop soon, so you just let your mind go blank, leaving your body at the mercy of his feral thrusts.

You sank to your elbows, pressing your face against your pillows. The change in position only made the pleasure higher, consuming you quickly. You moaned loudly, not caring about anything and just let your orgasm wash over you.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me,” he gasped, feeling your walls clenching around his cock and listening to the sounds you were muffling against your pillow.

Your hands balled into fists on your bed covers, trying to hold onto something as your orgasm tore through you. But it was quick, letting you come down from it as Wonwoo kept ramming his cock into you. “I’m close, baby, g-god—” he groaned.

He leaned his body over, chest pressing against your back, quite literally trapping you with his body. You felt his mouth against your nape, heard the strangled sounds he made. “You’re my fucking girl,” he whispered hoarsely while rutting into you desperately. “All fucking mine,” and then his thrusts became deeper, slowing down as he fucked his cum deep into you.

He kissed your hair and shoulder, breathing erratically against your skin. “Turn over,” he rasped, pulling away from you.

You were in no position to question him. You turned over, eyeing him curiously as he stood before you on his knees. He was still hard, his length completely covered in your arousal, his cum leaking from the tip.

He pressed his elbows on your pillow, framing your head.

You watched him intently, his gaze was still darkened, heavy with lust. And you could tell he wasn’t done with you by the way he captured your lips in a swift kiss. “Wonwoo,” you called softly.

“Mm?” he replied shortly.

Your hands were roving up and down his naked back, feeling his skin as he kissed your lips. Your breath caught when he pressed his hips against yours, making you feel his hard cock, his soft pubic hair—you gulped.

“Nothing,” you finally replied with a light giggle.

“Tell me,” he immediately mumbled, kissing your face slowly.

Your hands stopped caressing his body, stopping at his shoulders to push him off slightly. Wonwoo understood well, pulling back to lock eyes with you.

You didn’t need to speak—you just gave him that look, trying to convey without words what you weren’t quite ready to tell him yet. You wanted him. You wished for things to be different, to live in a scenario where you loved both men freely.

Wonwoo parted his lips, something waiting at the tip of his tongue. But he bit it back too, resorting to just nodding at you, and he didn’t need to say anything either.

You reached between your bodies, finding his cock to stroke it languidly. “You okay?” you whispered, guiding his cock to your wet pussy.

He nodded, leaning over to meet your lips with his own, at the same time he slipped inside you. And like the first time, he didn’t waste time and started pushing in and out of your walls. But the rhythm of his thrusts was completely different. It was gentle now, deep and slow.

You slid a hand on your pillow, trying to slip it under his once you found it. Wonwoo grabbed your hand, locking his fingers with yours and switching his weight on his elbows.

He wanted this—to make love to you while looking at your face.

You cupped his face with your free hand, holding his gaze as he pushed into you languidly. You thought of saying something, of telling him how he made you feel. But your heart faltered as you looked into his dark eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in between short breaths.

His thrusts were picking up the pace, and you knew that he was close from the short gasps that spilled from his pretty lips.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, needing more of his touch, more of the pleasure he could give you.

He closed the space between his mouth and yours, moaning deeply when your tongues touched. You kissed him, kissed him until you ran out of breath, until you felt your pleasure blooming under your skin, spreading relentlessly. You wanted to cum, you needed to feel him deeper.

You pushed your knees up, angling your pussy for his cock. Blindly, you felt Wonwoo’s hand on your thigh, finding the back of your knee and pulling it over his shoulder, pushing deeper into your pussy. You cried out into the kiss, moaning pathetically.

He broke the kiss quickly, breathing fitfully against your mouth. “You close?”

You nodded quickly. “Please,” you gasped, circling your arm on his back, holding onto him as he kept moving on you.

“I’m close too,” he whispered, pushing his forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes, feeling like you could sob. “Together?” you whispered.

Wonwoo nodded, the grip around your hand becoming tighter. And you just let yourself go, holding his hand, moaning his name repeatedly. You squeezed his hand back, and his thrusts became deeper. This orgasm was different, as fleeting as the first but somehow lingering in your body, sizzling beneath your skin.

“Wonwoo,” you sobbed.

He quickly brought his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as his thrusts slowed down and then stopped completely. But you kept making out with him, as though neither of you could speak and resorted to kissing each other fervently.

But both of you needed to breathe eventually. While both of you recovered and came down from your high, Wonwoo nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, pulling out of you gently.

The quiet settled in.

Misery crept over you before he could even move. You didn’t want to see it. But it was becoming more and more obvious as the time for him to go drew nearer. You knew that once you were alone, it would be unescapable.

Wonwoo rested his head on your chest, his arms sneaking underneath your back, hugging you. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to relish the moment, to try and memorize the smell from your skin, your clothes.

Your hand found the back of his head, slowly starting to thread his hair through your fingers.

He knew there was nothing left to say. He knew what he was getting himself into.

For a moment, he wondered what his life would look like if this were just a normal night and he was just staying over at his girl’s house. He squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing the thought.

“Are you sleeping any time soon, babe?” Your tiny voice broke the silence. You were still caressing his head, trying to soothe him to sleep.

But he resisted.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t want to.”

“But you have to,” you whispered, your voice waning, and that was how he knew you had started to tear up again.

He lifted his head, his glasses falling back in place as he found your face. Your eyes were teary, eyelashes clamped together in their wetness. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, rolling over and lying next to you.

You turned to him, following him instinctively. “You have work tomorrow,” you said.

Wonwoo paused, looking at the features of your face, softened by the pain and anguish you were feeling. “But I won’t see you tomorrow,” he whispered.

The impact of his words showed on your face. You blinked several times, your mouth parting slightly as your lip quivered. You looked away, down to his chest, and more tears sprang from your eyes.

“Hey,” Wonwoo called softly, bringing two fingers under your chin to make you look back at him. Once your eyes were on him, he thought of what to say. But no words came, nothing he could say to soothe the pain you were feeling, nothing he could say to make it better.

It this was the last time he would be close to you, he had to make it count. And he did. He kissed you, he showed you how much he loved your body, your face. How much you’ve made him happy just by being with you.

But he wanted to allow himself to be just a little more selfish.

You were starting to wonder about the reason behind his silence, his hesitation. Your eyes searched his face, your eyebrows quirking a little.

Wonwoo was overwhelmed by a sudden rush of nervousness, not knowing how you’d take this, unsure if he was making things better or slightly worse. But he had to say it. At least once before the morning came. “I love you.”

You blinked. You stopped breathing. Part of you knew, hoped that this was going to happen.

It didn’t make you change your choice. But still, it made your heart fuller.

He was brimming with uncertainty. It was the first time he uttered those words in years. And he only did it under the most traditional circumstances. He hated himself for being so nervous of rejection, of adding to the weight of his guilt for falling in love with you.

“I love you too,” you said, cupping his cheek to kiss him tenderly.

Wonwoo reciprocated the kiss, feeling his heart fuller, like he was allowed to breathe again. He broke the kiss, but only for a moment. He thought of what you’d feel like when the time came for him to leave, and felt like dying a little. Even though he respected your choice, he didn’t want to leave.

One thing he’d learn about you is that you were strong. All you’ve shown him this time he’s met you is that your heart is strong, and so full of love. He wished—desired more than anything—to see you put all that love into yourself.

“Can I ask one thing?” he whispered, and then smiled a little. “Well, another thing.”

“Anything,” you replied in kind, looking into his eyes.

“Please don’t blame yourself for this,” he said, carefully selecting his words. “Whatever happens with Mingyu, please don’t believe this is your fault.”

You gave him a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re asking too much from me,” you said. “I knew what I was doing, Wonwoo. I could’ve pulled the brakes long before this got too complicated.”

“Still,” he whispered, his eyelids falling heavily. “I don’t want you to carry this burden like it’s only yours. If anything, the burden is more mine than yours.”

The features of your face contorted slightly in a pout, which broke with the sob that tore through you. But you were quick, smashing your lips against his in a hard kiss, one that told him that you didn’t want to break this off.

But you had to.

“I love you, Wonwoo,” you whispered.

And your words brought an inexplicable feeling to him. It gave him one very optimistic certainty—it gave him hope. A kind of hope that was twisted.

“I love you,” he replied with a lazy drawl, his eyelids falling close now.

Once he was completely asleep, you could also rest. But sleep didn’t come as easily for you, and part of you refused it as a petty form of punishment. You resorted to observing him in the dark, outlining the features of his face while he was peacefully asleep. There was no worry deepening his brow, or any fondness curving his lips.

He had tucked one of his arms beneath the pillow, while the other was perched lazily on the curve of your waist. His head was slightly leaned forward, so close to yours that you only had to push yourself a little to touch his forehead with your own.

You breathed slowly to not disturb his peace, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, anchoring yourself to it, letting it lull you to sleep too. You closed your eyes, not thinking that this was the last time you’d see him in your bed, so close to you.

You didn’t want to think of it—about the finality of your love life. About how fleeting your story with Wonwoo was. But you realized the end had started the moment you both kissed.

But you had the certainty that it was ending, at least.

With your eyes closed, you tried memorizing the feeling of having him near, the weight of his body making the mattress dip, the way the bedsheets wrapped around your body and his.

You were terrified of being alone. You had thought that you were breaking things with Wonwoo because of the guilt you felt for loving Mingyu and hurting him. But the reality was, you were terrified of what you were turning into.

The thought persisted in your mind, but thankfully it allowed you to sleep. You tried to keep yourself light, so you could feel him while you slept. But somewhere in the night, your sleep became heavier, making you forget about your worries.

Because as soon as you woke up, you knew Wonwoo had left. His warmth was long gone when you turned under the bedsheets, and every single one of his belongings was nowhere to be seen.

He was gone.

And maybe he’d left before you woke up to make the last thing he said to you one sincere I love you. Maybe he left before you woke up, so he didn’t drag the torture out longer. But it didn’t soften the blow for you.

You sat up, looking around even though you knew that you were alone. Looking down, you sighed, bringing your hands to your face, too tired to cry, too tired to do anything at all.

You were a mess.

Never learned a thing.

Back to square one.

The Spot was still closed.

Wonwoo arrived before anyone else. Being the only other person who owned the key besides Seungcheol, he just started his shift earlier. He didn’t mind being in silence; in fact, he enjoyed it. It gave him peace of mind, and it soothed his heart.

He was tired, there was no doubt about that.

When he woke up it was already ten in the morning, and he needed to go. His heart twisted upon remembering the way you were still asleep, huddled in your bedcovers. But he forced himself to leave before you woke up, or else, he never would.

So there he was, feeling like shit. He went into the bathroom with his backpack still hanging on his shoulder. But he had everything he needed to help himself put together, more human.

He brushed his teeth with mechanical movements, not really paying attention to it, but just performing everything from muscle memory. He washed his face. He wet his hair and tried to comb it with his fingers, remembering the way you threaded his hair to help him sleep. 

It was going to be one tough way to get you out of his system.

He’s had breakups before, of course. But he didn’t think he could even call this a breakup—you were never his girlfriend to begin with.

But god, it sure hurt like it.

He walked out of the bathroom after putting on some deodorant and lotion, feeling more refreshed.

Then, from the corner of one fridge, he got a Monster and opened the can. The loud hiss was paired with the sound from the door to the backroom opening.

“Nice breakfast,” Seungcheol pointed out, leaving his laptop on the countertop and moving to remove the locks from the front door. “You looking rough, my friend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Wonwoo said, keeping his head down. “But I’m okay.”

“Sure thing,” Seungcheol said with a huff.

“Well, I’m here. I can work just fine,” he said.

Seungcheol paused, placing his hands on his hips as he took one long look at Wonwoo. “You’ve always intrigued me with one thing.”

Wonwoo set the drink aside, crossing his arms. “And what’s that?”

“You’re always here,” he shrugged. “The others come and go, they don’t get too hooked with this place, but you?  You’ve never missed a day.”

“I’m sure I have missed one day,” Wonwoo said with a light smile, one that felt unsure.

“Not to my knowledge,” Seungcheol replied. “And don’t get me wrong, I love having you here. You could run the bar with your eyes closed, it’s something even I can’t do.”

“Come on, boss,” he sighed. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I mean it,” Seungcheol pouted slightly. “I don’t know what happened to you. But this is the worst I’ve ever seen you,” he lifted one hand, as though demonstrating the state Wonwoo was in. “And look at you. You’re still here, not calling out.”

Wonwoo emitted a short laugh. “Do you want me to call out?”

Seungcheol looked at a loss of words. “I mean, I would grant it to you.”

“That bad I look, huh?”

The door opened once again, but now resounding across the bar with a powerful crack, revealing Mingyu. Wonwoo watched as Mingyu approached with a determined step, fear gripping him wholly when he saw the dark and dangerous look in his best friend’s eyes, dead set on him.

“It was you,” Mingyu said, his voice low, so low. “You knew I saw you with her and you didn’t say a fucking word.”

Wonwoo held his breath, his heart beating so hard against his chest that it made his voice uneven, but he remained determined: “I couldn’t tell you before.”

“What so you let me walk in there like a fucking idiot?” Mingyu said, stepping closer. “You let me sit for fucking days thinking she hated me while you—what? Were seeing her?”

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened, every nerve inside him firing with anxiety. But he did not move. “That’s not how it was.”

But Mingyu wasn’t listening. “Since when?” He asked, breathing fitfully. “Since when did you two start seeing each other?”

Wonwoo knew this was not helping the situation at all. But he had to be honest. It was everything he had now. “A month after you walked away,” he answered.

Mingyu gave him a humourless laugh. “Yeah? Very convenient timing.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. Not at first,” Wonwoo said, the words escaping him before he could think twice about them. “She was hurting. And I was there.”

Mingyu’s gaze snapped to Wonwoo’s face. “Don’t. Don’t make it sound like some noble thing! You told me that the right thing was to end things with her,” he said, his tone sharpening in anger and disgust. “Admit it—you were waiting for your fucking turn.”

All caution flew out the window. Wonwoo’s gaze darkened. “I waited because I thought that maybe you’d get your shit together. I told you to talk to her. Call her. I told you to show up. But you never did.”

“You have no idea what I was dealing with!” Mingyu fired back.

“Because you shut everyone out!” Wonwoo replied. “You shut her out. Me.”

Rage flickered in Mingyu’s eyes. “You knew I love her. All this time, you knew.”

Wonwoo’s mouth parted, not holding himself back now. “Well, you didn’t act like it.”

“Hey, both of you. Calm down,” Seungcheol called, his voice stern and unquestionable.

But Mingyu was blinded, and his ears were buzzing. “You knew I was trying to protect her from my mess,” Mingyu breathed. He pointed a finger at Wonwoo’s face. “All while you were pretending to be the savior.”

Wonwoo stared him down, rage rising inside him in dangerous waves. “I didn’t pretend shit. And you didn’t protect her—”

“You wanted me to let her go. Admit it!” Mingyu spat.

“You left her hanging when shit got too real for you.”

Mingyu looked like he was struggling to breathe, his shoulders were tense, his hands flexing at his sides. “So what, that gave you the right to step in?” he huffed, his eyes wild with anger, and something more.

“No,” Wonwoo replied. “But you made it clear that you weren’t going to.”

It happened quickly—Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo by the shirt and slammed him back into the shelves. Bottles clattered above, Seungcheol coming to grab Mingyu from behind, hooking an arm around his torso, reeling him back.

But Mingyu wrestled against it, rage fueling his whole body. “She was mine—”

“No, she wasn’t!” Wonwoo cut in, finally raising his voice. His eyes widened in exasperation after being pushed back. But he didn’t relent. “Not anymore. You walked away. I was there to see her fall apart. Not you.”

“And then what?” Mingyu spat, his voice rising, gaining a raspy edge: “You—you thought you’d be the better man?”

“No. I thought she deserved someone who actually stayed.”

That did it.

Mingyu stood there, his body completely rigid to the exception of his face. He was breaking hard, grinding his teeth as though biting his words back. There was a glint in his eyes, the words had stung.

Unblinking, his fist flew before he could exert any kind of control over himself. His knuckles found the centre of Wonwoo’s mouth, making his head snap back, and sending his body back against the shelves.

The bottles behind him rattled, one of them tipping over and falling beside Wonwoo’s feet.

It was fast and sharp—pain tickled instantly inside his mouth, spreading all over the soft tissue inside his lip. Instinctively, Wonwoo staggered back, bringing a hand to his mouth as blood trickled down his open lip. He caught himself, dazed, shocked and worst of all—hurt.

Mingyu froze.

Wonwoo raised his eyes at Mingyu, waiting for the next blow but it never came. Mingyu dropped his fist at his side like it had suddenly gotten burned. Like it had betrayed him.

“Wonwoo—” he started, his voice shaky and strangely hollow. “I didn’t mean—”

“Enough.”

Seungcheol’s voice cracked between them like lightning. He brought a hand to the centre of Mingyu’s chest, easily pushing him back. “The fuck’s wrong with you two?”

And Mingyu didn’t fight him this time. He staggered back too, looking pale and shaken, his eyes set on Wonwoo’s face—but there was no trace of that fiery anger. Mingyu was worried.

“You want to throw punches?” Seungcheol told him, his voice low and menacing like someone who was ready to subdue any class of trouble. “Wanna settle this like fucking kids, then do it outside. Not in my bar.”

Wonwoo used the back of his hand to wipe the blood trickling down and mixing with his saliva. His jaw clenched, his front teeth hurting slightly. He didn’t speak. The smell of alcohol from the smashed bottle filled his senses, anchoring him to reality.

Mingyu had punched him. And he’d fully deserved it. In fact, part of him wanted it to hurt more.

Seungcheol looked between them. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you two?” he reproached, his voice stern like a disappointed parent. “You. Outside. Now,” he ordered, pointing his finger at Mingyu.

Mingyu’s shoulders went slack, but he didn’t resist. Turning around, Wonwoo caught a glimpse of Mingyu’s face before he walked out, letting the door close softly behind him, and all rage simmered down.

Seungcheol turned, kicking a large piece of broken glass. Wonwoo motioned to get the broom, but Seungcheol raised a palm to him. “Leave it,” he said, studying Wonwoo’s face. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Wonwoo felt ashamed. Of himself, of what he’d brought to Seungcheol’s bar.

“Why did you do that?” Seungcheol asked, his tone laced with curiosity but something else, a quiet judgement.

Wonwoo dared to raise his gaze to the man who had been his business partner for years now. Despite of years of knowing each other, Wonwoo had never let something so personal show. He always kept everything concealed. So he wasn’t surprised to see the concern and real disappointment behind Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” Wonwoo finally replied.

But that was a lie. Weeks of being with you had taught him that there’s no such thing as a straight answer. Not when it came to love and all the complications that his heart has put him through.

He betrayed Mingyu, yes. But he never intended to. Just as he never intended to fall in love with you.

“Grab a plastic bag and ice before that lip swells more,” Seungcheol instructed, the muscles of his face had relaxed.

“Sure,” Wonwoo muttered, lowering his gaze again.

Seungcheol sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re dismissed for today.”

Wonwoo’s heart dropped, raising his head to meet Seungcheol’s eye. “I can still work—”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, shaking his head lightly. “I need you to take the day off,” he stated, his tone stern, but there was worry in his eyes. “For your sake. You look like hell, not only that, but you’d have to be crazy if you didn’t feel like hell. And I need you two to stay away from each other for a day, okay?”

Wonwoo almost tried to persuade him to tell Seungcheol to let him work tonight instead of Mingyu. He needed this job, not for the money, or to be somewhere other than at home. He just needed to fill his head with noise, drown the voice in his head telling him he’d made a terrible mistake.

But he nodded curtly. “Okay, boss,” he muttered.

And that might’ve been the first time he’d taken a break from The Spot.

The air was cold outside. The light rain pattered softly on the windshields of the two cars parked behind the bar.

Mingyu leaned back against the wall, looking skyward. It was painted a pale grey, spotted with slightly darker clouds. He blinked as tiny droplets of water landed on his forehead and cheeks.

His hand was trembling.

Between all the things happening inside his head, Mingyu was concerned with one in particular—why?

The door opened, and the loud metallic creaking made his ears ring a little.

Mingyu didn’t look at Wonwoo. Shame heated from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, making them red. He knew he’d made a terrible mistake. It was his first time throwing a punch with the full intention to start a fight. And he regretted it immediately.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Mingyu muttered, closing his eyes before swallowing the knot in his throat.

Wonwoo didn’t answer.

Mingyu lowered his face after a moment of silence. His eyes brimmed with shameful tears when he saw Wonwoo pressing a pack of ice to his mouth.

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo said, lifting the pack to show him a clean cut to his lip, already swollen and flaring red. “It’s nothing.”

Mingyu dropped his gaze to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just—I didn’t—what you said—” he cut himself off, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry too,” Wonwoo finally said, his voice breaking a little.

Mingyu nodded slowly. “I trusted you.”

Wonwoo flinched, the words hitting worse than any punch could. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

And that did it.

The shame, the guilt. Everything that Mingyu had been bottling up from the moment he saw your photos on Wonwoo’s computer came crashing down on him like a thousand bricks.

Why, why, why?

Mingyu sniffled quietly, his gaze lowered but Wonwoo could get a glimpse of the glistening below his eyes, the lonely tears that trickled down his cheeks. “I saw the photos on your computer.”

Wonwoo’s heart stammered. Of all of the possible ways Mingyu could’ve put the pieces together, this was one of the worst. Because when he took those photos, they didn’t mean anything to him yet. You were just a thought in Wonwoo’s mind. A friend. Someone he wanted to get to know more because you were hurting.

Wonwoo lowered the ice pack to his side, the shift and the chill air made the cut sting. But he didn’t pay attention to it. “She asked me for space.”

Mingyu blinked, raising his face. “What?”

“She said she needed time for herself,” he said. “She didn’t want this to happen, you know?”

Mingyu exhaled. The statement had hurt him, like something had rung with familiarity. “She told me the same thing. That she needed to heal,” he said, his tone weak. “So you two are not…”

Wonwoo shook his head gently. “No. I’m not seeing her anymore.”

Mingyu didn’t respond, the words had shaken him. He was breathing hard again, and Wonwoo could guess that it was just as painful to Mingyu as it was to him.

“I think she’s trying to find herself again outside of all of this mess—me, you, her ex. Everything.”

Mingyu frowned. “Her ex?” he asked, his gaze softening in acknowledgement. “Did he come back?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “He’s getting married. Told her it should’ve been her instead of his actual partner.”

Mingyu blinked, realization hitting him as he sighed heavily. “Fuck,” he ran a hand down his face. He laughed bitterly, his eyes still wet with tears. “And there I was, thinking that if I told her I loved her, I would fix everything.”

Wonwoo didn’t say a thing.

Mingyu tilted his head back again, looking at the sky for a long second. His breathing was even now, but the hurt in his face was still there, hardening his features. He turned slightly, looking now at Wonwoo.

“Do you love her?” Mingyu asked.

Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth parting. But he gave a single nod. “Yes. I do.”

Mingyu blinked away slowly, swallowing hard again. “What now?”

Wonwoo was expecting this question. In the midst of everything, this was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that remained. He and Mingyu.

“I don’t know. She’s not with you. She’s not with me. I think that we should let her breathe. In the meantime, we should try and figure out how to clean up this mess.”

Mingyu stood there, looking at the sky as silence stretched on.

This wasn’t really about you anymore. It was about trying to figure out who both Mingyu and Wonwoo were after this irreversible step.

“Do you think you can forgive me?” Wonwoo asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Mingyu replied, his tone thickening. “You should’ve told me before.”

“I was going to tell you. I was looking for the right time to do it.”

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” Mingyu said, his chest deflating with a sigh. “Help me understand why you did it.”

Wonwoo looked away for the first time. Going back to the memory was even more painful than he thought. “I thought you had used her to forget Gigi,” he confessed.

“What?!” Mingyu exclaimed, his tone rising. “You think I’d do that?”

Wonwoo blinked, getting a glimpse of Mingyu’s hurt expression. “Even then I thought it was strange you’d do that. But you need to understand—you changed, Mingyu. After Gigi, you shut me out and didn’t talk to me… I thought that all of this was the aftermath of your breakup with her.”

Mingyu gaped in shock and utter disappointment. “I told you how I felt about her. Many times.”

Wonwoo tilted his head to one side, his brows knitting softly. “But you also told me how you weren’t all in, remember? You told me that you couldn’t stomach the thought of commitment, but then you would go back to her,” he said.

“I still don’t understand why you would do this,” Mingyu pointed out.

Wonwoo stilled. “I never meant to get close to her, believe me. We became friends, we got closer… and things got blurry after that.”

Mingyu exhaled, his face twisting in pain. “So all this time I’ve been wallowing like an idiot, you were—”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo called his tone stern and low. “You slept with her and the next day you dumped her. I’m not saying you should’ve done things differently, but you weren’t being honest with yourself, and that complicated things when you finally decided to let her go.”

Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut. He remembered it well—the night you told him about your ex, about how badly you were hurt. And he told you multiple times he wouldn’t leave you. He remembered how scared he was at the thought of breaking your heart, of being the same person Gigi was to him.

And he did it anyway.

“I fucked up,” Mingyu said bitterly, sniffling quietly.

“But she still loves you.”

Mingyu raised his teary eyes, blinking slowly. “S-she told me something similar,” he said.

Wonwoo nodded. “She never intended to hurt you—while she was with me,” he lowered his gaze. “But she was convinced that you didn’t want her anymore.”

“And you let her believe that,” Mingyu replied pointedly.

“Mingyu, you didn’t know what you wanted,” Wonwoo said, trying to put his best friend into his perspective. But no matter how hard he tried to flip things into his view, he knew he also did wrong. “But yeah, I also wanted her. It didn’t matter to me that she was using me.”

“That’s fucked up,” Mingyu exhaled, his gut twisting in resentment. “Did you seriously think I would not be mad at you for that?”

“I never believed you’d sit right with it,” he countered. “But I also… I also never thought it would go that far and when it did, I couldn’t stop it.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Mingyu mumbled, looking skyward again.

A moment went on in silence. Mingyu stared at the clouds, feeling like a complete idiot. He let you go and in your pain you sought comfort with his best friend. There was no room in his head to explain why you would do this. Was it revenge on him for leaving you so abruptly?

You said you loved him. The day he saw you for the last time. He remembered the brittle look on your face, the tears that formed in your eyes when you told him you had changed.

No, you wouldn’t do this as a form of revenge. Mingyu has known you since you and he were teenagers. Sure, you were never this close back then, but he knew your true nature. Kind, honest, and so loving. And the last time he saw you, he felt that part of you just wasn’t there anymore. Even when you confessed that you loved him too, there was something fractured.

“I broke her,” Mingyu said, the words slipping out of him in a quiet sigh.

You had opened up to him, shown you the vulnerable side of you and he left you afterwards.

“You did what was right for you,” Wonwoo said. “And she… she just needs to do what is right for her now.”

Mingyu nodded, but his gaze had fell out of focus. “Yeah…” he trailed off. “I’ll leave her be.”

One truth was that when his fist collided with Wonwoo’s face, his rage dissipated. It didn’t mean that he’d let go of the resentment he felt, but he was less angry about it. He still needed to understand why everything had happened the way it did, but for that, he needed your side of the story.

“Not everything’s forgiven,” Mingyu said, his voice barely a croak. “But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I don’t fully comprehend why you did that the way you did. You could’ve told me before, even if you knew I was going to be mad.”

Wonwoo listened, looking at Mingyu intently. “You’re right. You deserved to know sooner. And I’m sorry for hurting you. That wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Is there anything else I need to know?” Mingyu asked.

“I’ve told you everything,” Wonwoo confirmed, giving him a tight nod.

Mingyu blinked slowly, letting out a labored sigh. “I need some time to think about this whole mess,” he said.

“I’ll give you time,” Wonwoo replied almost immediately. “And if you need to talk, I’ll be ready.”

Before the moment stretched too long, Mingyu turned to the door, opening it so Wonwoo could come back inside with him.

“You go,” Wonwoo muttered, his lip having swollen slightly.

Mingyu paused, still holding the door handle.

“I’ve been dismissed for today,” Wonwoo explained shortly. And after seeing Mingyu’s face contort slightly in worry, he added: “Seungcheol thought it’s better for us to stay apart for the rest of the day.”

Mingyu huffed dryly, sending a look upwards. “It’s not like I’m going to hit you again,” he joked. “See you back home,” he said humourlessly now, disappearing after the door and shutting it behind him.

Wonwoo’s mouth pressed into a tight line despite the cut still pulsing on his lip. All alone, he could face the silence bravely, with a steady heart. The silence told him everything he needed to know—he’d done a terrible mistake.

All his life he had made decisions carefully. If he had to think three or five times about something, he did it. But when he met you, he felt he had never been in control. He got to know you and never realized how you broke down all his walls.

The night he kissed you for the first time was the most impulsive he’s ever been in his life. And he made that decision only because his heart truly desired it. But now he knew the consequences of his actions. He acted out of love and affection and in the process hurt his best friend and lost you.

Everything that remained was a painful lesson—Wonwoo would never act on his heart again.

Mingyu ran a hand down his face.

The soft piano music coming from the speakers of the café was almost unsettling him. It was too quiet, too calm, while his head was banging and thrashing with horrible thoughts.

He wasn’t ready for this.

It had been an impulsive decision.

If this went badly, at least he could blame it on acting without considering the possible consequences.

He wasn’t ready for this, yes. But he also felt in his heart like he needed it.

Coming to this café wasn’t his idea. It was his first time there, so he limited himself to buying a cold brew americano. That way, he could have an excuse to sit down at one of the tiny tables that were cramped with several others.

He bounced his knee obsessively, frantically as he eyed the time displayed on his lockscreen.

This time, there was no need to prepare a stupid speech. He knew what he wanted to say because those were things he hadn’t been able to let go of. Now that he saw things from a different perspective, he wished he had done this long before he let you go.

But it was too late to turn back time.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw the chair opposite to his move.

Gigi sat down, fixing her hair nervously.

The first thing Mingyu noticed was that she avoided eye contact. Her face was lowered, but left to Mingyu’s expert eye. She looked exactly how he remembered, prim, composed. Her caramel-brown hair was loose in fluffy waves that splayed over her shoulders. Her milky white skin had an unnatural glow to it, the blush near her cheekbones pink and glittery. There was a beauty mark on her cheek, the same one Mingyu used to kiss lovingly.

His stomach tightened.

Gigi raised her face, smiling at him softly, but the joy never reached her brown eyes. “Hi, Mingyu,” she cooed like this encounter was meant to be sweet.

He nodded once, trying to remain polite. But the truth was, he was beginning to regret this. “Gigi.”

“You look good,” she said, eyeing him from the waist up. “Stronger.”

He didn’t reply, feeling like he couldn’t return any kind of compliment.

And his silence unsettled her. She neatly folded her hands on the table, pursing her lips. “I’m so glad you reached out. I’ve been meaning to talk for a while now.”

“I know you have,” Mingyu replied dryly, his voice gruff. “But I didn’t come here to talk. I just wanted to say something.”

She gaped for a second. “O-okay.”

A pause followed, which Mingyu used to arrange his words as best as he possibly could. But there was no better way to say this. “You broke something in me.”

She blinked, the muscles of her face contracting slightly.

But he didn’t let her speak. “After you cheated, I couldn’t look at myself the same. I kept thinking that it was just me. That I was paranoid. That if I had done something else you wouldn’t have cheated.”

She stiffened completely on her seat, hiding her face as she inclined her head forward. “It wasn’t about you,” she said softly.

Mingyu couldn’t believe her, but he breathed in, letting her say her piece.

“I was a mess back then,” she said quietly. “I was upset with myself, and I never believed I deserved you, so I guess I just acted that out by doing what I did to you.”

Mingyu blinked slowly, feeling more surprised than hurt at hearing Gigi’s words. He hated for a fraction of a second that Gigi wasn’t saying explicitly what she did to him. But he couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I know that now,” he said. “But back then, I didn’t. And someone tried to love me after you, and I hurt her because I didn’t trust love anymore. I kept thinking that something had to go wrong. And maybe that’s on me. But I never told you that.”

She raised her face again, her eyes widened and glazed over. “Are you still mad at me?” she asked, her tone rising in disbelief.

“No,” he said, not caring about the falsity in her voice. “Not mad. Just done.”

Gigi’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard. “Is this about her?” she blurted, losing composure. “About that girl you’re seeing?”

Mingyu remained expressionless, but it took everything he got to do so. He didn’t want to question how Gigi knew about you, or comment about the way she referred to you. But he took another deep breath, letting his heart bleed at the memory of you.

“It is,” he conceded stiffly. “I found someone who made me feel good after what happened with you,” now it was his turn to lower his face, but just briefly. “I pushed her away because I didn’t trust myself.”

Her lips pursed again, and there was a certain way she blinked. A fleeting roll of her eyes. “Do you want me to apologize?”

He shook his head, hearing the dismissal in her tone.

But she did it anyway. “I didn’t mean to ruin you.”

Mingyu tried to ignore it, the venom in her words but still masked in a sweet way. “You didn’t ruin me,” he said, not hiding his annoyance. “But you cheated on me and made me feel crazy for not trying to salvage our relationship. You left with him, and I stayed fucked.”

“And I hated myself after. I still do,” she said, her voice dropping.

Mingyu softened, his heart faltering. But he commanded himself to stand his ground. “Then this isn’t just for me. Maybe you needed to hear it too.”

She made no comment, she remained crestfallen and playing with the golden rings around her fingers.

Mingyu remained studying her, wondering why he felt absolutely nothing. Not even pity. Somewhere in his mind, he compared his story with Gigi to his story with you. He realized that Gigi’s betrayal was something she had built for weeks, she lied and hid while sharing his bed. Meanwhile, he felt like he was in no position to judge you. He hurt you first, played with your time and then walked away when you needed him the most.

His heart hurt when the memory of you sitting on the bleachers flashed behind his eyelids. The way you hugged yourself tightly as you crumbled, sobbing as he walked away.

If you had found love with Wonwoo, then Mingyu felt like he couldn’t really blame you.

“I still think about us,” she admitted with a sad tone. “About what he had. What we could’ve—”

Mingyu cut her off. “What we had was dishonest. I loved you. And you lied to me,” he said.

She blinked fast. “Do you love her?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Gigi took in a breath as though she’d been slapped. But she said nothing, she gulped hard, swallowing her words.

“I’m not here to talk about second chances,” Mingyu added, sighing through his nose. “I’m here because I don’t want you to look for me anymore. And I just want to have closure on what happened between us.”

Mingyu noticed her gaze disconnecting somewhere in the middle of what he was saying. She didn’t get what she wanted. And it was then that he realized that he wouldn’t either.

She lowered her face, sniffling quietly but no tears came. “I’m sorry, Mingyu.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Me too.”

And when he stood up, she didn’t stop him.

As he approached the door, he didn’t cast a look over his shoulder to see her one more time. All the love and resentment he had for her had been buried the moment he stepped outside of the café. 

He pulled in a big breath, feeling freer despite still having a weight in his chest.

But for the first time in months, he felt that he’d made the right decision.

☾ author's note ii: hey, everyone

sorry for being absent for the past few days. life has been a bit hard for me and i was in no condition to write. i wanted to, but couldn't. between job hunting, saving money to move and so on, i had to take a break for my sake.

but what made things better for me were you guys, who kept sending me loving messages and asking about me, which kept me grounded. thank you all for looking out for me, y'all make me feel special 🥹🩵

this chapter was... difficult to write in some parts. it felt like i was speaking to myself. and honestly, this entire fic is so deeply personal that it took me so long to update it. i posted the first chapter on september 2024... and then left it to collect dust until april 2025.

i really need to stop self-inserting in my fics. kdfjgh but i know that i won't. it's just impossible to me.

anyway, if you liked this chapter, feel free to tell me in the comments? i try to reply to all of your feedback, and if i don't reply, trust me i'm always smiling when i see your comments and your reblogs. you guys don't know how happy you make me with your comments, asks and reblogs!

that's it from me for now, i love you all

toodles!

♡ check out my patreon ♡

☆ STAY TUNED FOR PART IX! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE ♡

© TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[cosmicalily]

"four letters (l-o-v-e)" - a minho oneshot by @cosmicalily | prequel to 'type it out (h-e-a-r-t)'

author's note: i may or may not write a part two for this (depending on if people like this one!) i've never really written a fic like this where there's zero romantic action/physical intimacy, but i kind of loved this whole soft, slow burn, and the idea that you can come up with your own ending for it (unless i end up writing one lmao). obviously, this fic is inspired by the 'youth' mv, bc i'm down WILDLY bad for 'youth' minho! also as i wrote in a little blab on my blog this will likely be my last post in my 'regular' writing schedule as it's my very last prewritten fic!! i'd been stockpiling them for days to keep me going but with school restarting (final year!) i know i'll most likely be too busy to write regularly. thank you for all the love over this summer (or winter!) xx i'll still be on here whenever inspiration strikes!

warnings: fights, blood, angst, difficulties at school, suspensions

The sunlight on the emerald coloured lawn was warm, melting through the semi-sheer clouds like honey. You stretched yourself out, torso propped up by your elbows, eyes squinted before eventually, you gave into the glare, closing them fully. You loved the spring sunshine; everything around you felt like it was saturated and glowing, and there was a freshness to the air that the other seasons didn’t carry. You felt a soft kick to your back and opened your eyes reluctantly, batting an arm aimlessly to return the blow.

“Were you asleep?” Seungmin asked, chuckling amusedly. Despite his smirk, he offered a hand to help you off the grass. Foolishly, you reached for it, and once you were about two-thirds above the ground, he let go, letting you fall back onto the lawn with a soft thump.

“You asshole,” you groaned, dusting off your plaid skirt. You pulled yourself to your own feet, stretching your back and slipping your arms into your blazer, giving Seungmin one last dirty look. He simply laughed at you, the way he always did, but you didn’t miss the quick once-over he gave you, checking to make sure he hadn’t really hurt you. 

It was just the way you communicated. He teased, you tolerated. And sometimes, if you were bothered, you retaliated.

You reached for your bike, about to set your backpack in the front basket, when suddenly Seungmin tapped you on the shoulder. Not in the irritating way to interrupt you when you were studying, but urgently. You turned your head, craning your neck, and your jaw dropped.

Seo Changbin and Lee Minho were fighting.

Not play fighting, the way you typically saw the two of them tussle around in the back of class. No, there was no laughter, no joking or nicknames. Seungmin pulled the two of you a little further behind the bicycle shelter, eyes wide in shock.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit,” Minho spat, blood trickling from his lip as he fought against Changbin’s headlock. “You knew that was my last chance. I needed that grade and you’ve gone and fucking screwed it.”

Changbin scoffed, wincing a little at the scratches Minho’s nails left on his forearms. “You’re the one who doesn’t give a shit about school. Why do you suddenly care, huh? It’s just a stupid assignment.”

“They’re gonna kick me out if I fail another,” Minho hissed. “You knew that, but you still had to fuck around and ruin everything for me.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered to Seungmin.

Not quietly enough, apparently.

Minho’s head turned, sharp eyes immediately spotting the two of you. Your heartbeat quickened, and Seungmin mumbled curses under his mouth as Minho quickly pulled himself from Changbin. He gave the latter a quick shove, then pointed in the direction of the bike shed.

“Fuck,” Seungmin murmured.

“What are you looking at?” Changbin shouted, expression hostile.

“Let’s go,” you urged, and the two of you hopped on your bikes, making a hasty exit. 

When you turned your head back, Changbin was nowhere to be seen. Minho, however, sat on the lawn, bloody face in his hands. 

He looked so much smaller, so vulnerable. 

Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned your bike against a fence and ran back to the school grounds, Seungmin shouting your name from behind you.

But Minho was gone now, too.

Seungmin panted beside you, cursing at your stupidity for running back. 

Blood now streaked the grass where you’d been sitting earlier.

“Ms. Park and I have been thoroughly debating exactly what to do with you two, Lee Minho,” Mr. Shin sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. “Because clearly, the past consequences we’ve inflicted have had minimal, if any, impact.”

Minho’s eyes brightened. “Another suspension?” He asked eagerly.

“Absolutely not,” Mr. Shin shook his head. “Especially when your attendance is already as bad as it is, and considering the fact that the past seven suspensions we’ve assigned you have only seemed to make matters worse. No, we’ve had to get creative.”

Minho rolled his eyes and yawned, but his heart beat a little quicker. Usually, this conversation would be done in two minutes; it was a script he’d repeated many times. Several apologies, each a little more dramatic than the previous one, then a two-day suspension. Then, Minho would be out of the room, collecting his bag, and could do whatever he pleased. It was like a routine.

‘Creative’, though? He did not like the sound of that.

“We have decided that perhaps individualised punishments are not effective,” Mr. Shin continued. “So we have constructed somewhat of a community service plan for you to complete.”

“What, like picking up rubbish?”

“What, Mr. Shin,” he groaned. “Have some courtesy, please. And no, something different. It will be collaborative, but also educational. Changbin will be doing the same; Seungmin will be assisting him in instructing the children’s baseball team. And, in your favour, we have taken into account your dislike towards physical exercise. However, you’ll still be responsible for a group of people, which will hopefully teach you leadership and empathy. Obviously, we were cautious of assigning you this role alone, so we have recruited some support.” Mr. Shin stood up from his desk and opened his office door.

“Hi Minho,” you said gently.

“Hi, Y/N,” he mumbled.

You pulled out a sheet of paper covered in squares and numbers, sliding it across the desk to him. 

And the smile Lee Minho offered you, small but certain, as he stared down at the piece of paper was nothing short of genuine. In that moment, he seemed different. 

You saw the same vulnerability you’d seen the day before.

“Have you ever played bingo?”

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 38

part 1 | part 37 | ao3

"Sure thing."

"Can you go say hey to everyone, too? Please?" he adds. "I need a second."

He expects Eddie to tease him for being bossy, but Eddie just winks and says, "Do you one better than that, sugar," smiling playfully with his tongue out like a dog before he bounds outside and tackles one of the kids into a pile of snow.

Steve uses the distraction to clean himself up; towel the sweat from his face and hair and clean the blood off of his knuckles, and when he steps outside a moment later Eddie's shouting "no wedgies no wedgies!!" while Dustin tries to shove a snowball down the back of his pants.

"Steve!" Eddie calls out when he spots him. "Steve, help!"

"No, help me!" Dustin counters with a strained grunt as Eddie grapples him into a chokehold. Mike yells "Get him, Eddie!" and Lucas rolls his eyes and mutters, "This is what we get for not bringing any girls."

The trip is pure chaos right from the jump, which Steve anticipated the second he suggested packing five dudes into a van for a run to the hardware store (he had to sit through ten minutes of Mike, Dustin, and Lucas arguing over everything from girls to books to whether The Cure objectively sucks or not until Eddie finally hollered "shut the fuck up!" and drowned them all out with 'real music'), but it feels good to be in charge. To have a project to manage, even if he's the reason there's a project in the first place.

He bosses the boys around the aisles when they get to the store, gathering up supplies — tarps and tools and vinyl, a few sheets of plywood to repair the damaged subfloor, disinfectant spray and gloves; safety shit, too, just in case they need it — and it reminds him of that day in the junkyard. Hey, dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl?

"You talk to Max lately?" he asks Lucas when they get a minute alone.

Lucas dips his head and kicks at the wheel of their shopping cart, looking so much like a kid, even though he's almost taller than Steve now. "No," he says with a frustrated sigh. "I don't— it's like she's there, but she's not there. You know? I don't know how to reach her."

"Mm." Steve gets that. Felt it just this morning. He claps a hand to Lucas' shoulder. "Just give her time," he suggests, bending to grab a sanding block off a shelf and drop it in the cart.

In his periphery, he sees Eddie skipping at the far end of the aisle while Mike and Dustin chase after him. "Is she still with Eddie's friend?"

Lucas glares at the back of Eddie's head at Steve's reminder, voice sullen when he answers, "Shit, man. I don't know."

"Is he being cool to you?"

"Who, Gareth?"

"No, Eddie," Steve clarifies, remembering Erica's threat-request to look out for her brother.

"Oh." Lucas scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, he treats basketball like it's the Dark Side, but-"

He breaks off with a little laugh, and Steve laughs with him. "Yeah. He's kind of dramatic. I'll talk to him about it."

"You will?"

"Sure. Jock solidarity and all that." He gives Lucas a fist bump, and Lucas gives him a long, thoughtful look, chewing his lip.

"So you guys are, like... friends now?"

Steve's heart gives an unhelpful flutter at the question. They are like friends now, he guesses, if friends kiss each other with tongue.

He clears his throat at that thought and looks away to hide his blush; sees Eddie using a cut of PVC pipe as a sword, lunging at Mike in a fencer's pose and shouting 'en garde!' "...Unfortunately, yeah."

—

part 39

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[joeyalohadream]

Ooo gimme combat fatigue!! (Welcome back babe)

❤️Thanks, love!

I've touched on this one before once or twice but I've had this one kicking around in my docs for a looooong time. And I really do want to get back into writing it some day.

The plot in this one is that while John is in England before the rest of the 100th arrives, he attends a briefing given by a Doctor that runs one of the 'Flak Houses' to teach leadership how to recognize the signs of Combat Fatigue in there men.

And as John sits in this briefing, attentive and eager to learn how to be helpful to his men, he starts getting an unsettling feeling as the emotional, cognitive and physical signs are described in detail because he can think back to moments where Gale has already exhibited many of these signs in the years he's known him.

He's always known Gale doesn't talk about his life before joining up, outside of some basic surface-level facts, but he realizes that he's missed something big.

I'm pretty sure I've posted this snippet before but I don't tag my things with any kind of organization in mind and the thought of digging through my own blog gives me a tummy ache. So I'll just repost it here.

“I told you all about my ma, my sisters.” “Well, I haven’t had a mom since I was a boy, and I don’t have any siblings.” Frustration is starting to leak into Gale’s tone and Bucky considers backing off the conversation and just enjoying the bliss of their first post-reunion tryst. Gale is still sweaty and sated, resting on his chest and it would be easy to let it go. But his mind has been tangled up about this for weeks and he can’t bring himself to give up so easily. “Tell me about your dad then,” he runs his fingers down Gale’s spine, fingers gliding easily over the sweat slick skin. He feels Gale tense against him. “No.” Bucky tries not to feel hurt by the finality in his tone. Tries not to take it personally that the person he wants to tell everything, won’t tell him anything. “Why?” “Why won’t you tell me what it was like up there?” He grits his teeth and imagines he can taste the copper in the air, hear the whimpers of the injured navigator, feel the terror of anticipating he’s about to be hit, about to be dead. “That’s not the same thing, Buck.” “What if it is?”

[frodo-with-glasses]

Where have you been?

Uhhh, France?

(That’s a Hamilton reference, btw. I have never been to France.)

So! Another Hobbit Day is upon us. On this day last year, I’d promised you all that we would take another trek through LotR, with all new drawings and poems and fanfics. I fully expected to be finished with Book One by now, at least halfway through FotR. What actually happened is that the blog struggled through the first five and a half chapters of the book before suddenly going radio silent.

So what happened?

Well, as you might expect, real life happened. I won't go into the details here—since it has nothing to do with LotR—but I can explain in DMs if anyone is interested.

Basically, a change in my family led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about my family, which led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about myself, which kicked off an intense period of self-improvement.

Over the course of this past year, I began to unpack my family's abuse; I learned about boundaries; I started to unlearn my old people-pleasing tendencies; I reconnected relationships that were broken, reevaluated ones that were in the wrong place, and cut off ones that weren't good for me. I discovered there was a little kid in my head who's been waiting years and years for an adult to love her, and to take her needs seriously, and I finally have the chance to be that adult. And I'm happy to say that I've come to a place where I feel safer in my own head than I have ever been.

Probably very little of that is going to show through on this blog. It's all inward stuff; foundational stuff. But one thing that might affect you guys is that I left my (dreadfully overstimulating and stressful) part-time job, and I'm now working full time somewhere else. As much as I love what I do for a living now, working 40 hours a week does mean that I am become Boring Adult who does not have as much time for interneting. With my current schedule, there is no way I'd be able to sustain the intense schedule of "must post one drawing a day" that I had in the early days of this blog; and I don't expect myself to.

But! I would like to—slowly—get this train rolling again.

I find it hilariously apropos that the last piece of art I posted on this blog was of Frodo suddenly disappearing. From Merry's perspective, he completely vanished without explanation or warning. From your perspective, so did I.

But I find myself here again, on another September 22nd, and once again I'm beginning to feel that pull; that pull to read, and draw, and create, and share, and laugh with all of you. Life has calmed down enough for me that I once again have the mental space to think about pursuing my hobbies. There are so many things I want to do—so much to do with the time that is given to me. And I want this blog to be on that list.

My current goal is to post some new book art every other day. If that's too much, I'll adjust it. But if I find my groove and really get into it, who knows? We might return to your regularly scheduled Daily Dose of Frodo-With-Glasses. We shall have to see.

Anyway. If you've read this far, thank you! If you've stuck with this blog since the early days, thank you. And if you are one of that lovely core Fellowship that has had my back and prayed for me all along, I cannot thank you enough.

This past year has been an absolute ride. Not as difficult as a trek to Mordor, maybe, but not easy either. But no matter where I walked, I knew I didn't have to take the journey alone.

Anyway! Enough sappiness. Happy Hobbit Day! I'm excited to see what the next year has in store for us. 💚

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hi hello! I’m not the person who originally submitted the ask for the Genshin/Honkai girls with a G Gundam-style chuuni S/O, but I’ll be fully honest that one hit my brainrot something good and fierce. So what about Xinyan, Dehya, Navia, Himeko, March 7th, and Stelle with the G Gundam Chuuni S/O?

(Genshin Impact/Honkai: Star Rail)

Xinyan, Dehya, Navia, Himeko, March 7th, Stelle, and Natasha with a very dramatic S/O

Part 1 here!

@jjovin3221, here is your part two, courtesy of others!

Also, March 7th's part has my absolute favorite image I've ever made for this blog.

Xinyan absolutely loves S/O's over the top attitude!

Not to mention they had some killer pyrotechnics! Both their visions may be Pyro, but her lover's put any flame to shame.

The explosion they'd create alongside the absolute raw energy they exuded from their shouts was enough to motivate her and her fans.

Plus they had an amazing stage name already: The King/Queen of Hearts!

But that being said, she finds them a little too intense at times. All they cared about was fighting, but she did appreciate they made time for her concerts despite that fact.

...Wait, their whole warrior schtick isn't just a stage Persona, was it?

==

Xinyan watched as S/O effortlessly blew through a horde of bandits with blinding kicks and punches.

She could only watch in silent awe while they rapidly leapt from one enemy to another, everyone powerless to stop their rampage.

With one final kick, S/O sent the last bandit tumbling down a hill, while they crossed their arms dramatically, headband blowing in the wind.

One of the ones knocked to the floor by their punch tried to crawl away, catching S/O's and Xinyan's attention.

(Bandit) "W-What are you?!"

(S/O) "You look upon a student of the Undefeated of the East!"

Grabbing their collar, they looked them in the eyes as they reached for something in their pocket.

(Xinyan) "...Uh, is that a picture?-"

(S/O) "Have you seen this man?"

(Bandit) "Wha...D-DID YOU ATTACK US JUST TO ASK THAT QUESTION?!-"

(S/O) "Answer me!"

(Bandit) "ACK! N-NO! NEVER SEEN HIM!"

S/O tossed the bandit behind him like they were made of paper, walking back to Xinyan.

(Xinyan) "...S/O, did you actually want to ask 'em a darn question this entire time?!"

(S/O) "I did. Does that bother you?"

Xinyan was stunned, blinking twice to make sure she was processing S/O's actions correctly.

(Xinyan) "...A-A little, yeah! Why the heck did we beat the tar outta 'em just for a single thing?!"

(S/O) "Hm. They started it. Let's get back to Liyue, your concert will start soon."

(Xinyan) "R-Right..." Man, they sure do got a screw loose...

Dehya had met many mercenaries that had something wrong with them throughout her career.

But her S/O took the crown for the biggest psycho she's ever met.

When she first met them, she knew they had a dangerous air about them.

What she didn't expect is for them to be able to blow every single thing they came across into smithereens with just their bare hands.

Sure, a Vision allows you to pull some crazy stunts, but how does it ignite your entire fist into a golden flaming sun, which allows you to blow up things as if they were pyro slimes?!

She fell for them because of the kindness they could display, and how reliable they were, but that was when they weren't going off the deep end.

And these days, that was getting increasingly rarer.

==

Dehya marched into the ruins with S/O, both of them approaching a group of eremites who were holding a girl hostage.

(Dehya) "There's a lot of them in there. What's our plan?"

(S/O) "Flank around the sides. I'll go in the front and save the girl."

Before she could formulate another plan, S/O walked ahead of her.

(Dehya) "Be careful..."

She then watched as the Eremites immediately shot at S/O with arrows from their flanks.

S/O suddenly crouched down with arrows inside of them, which made Dehya's heart stop.

The Eremite's laughter quickly halted when S/O stood back up, arrows somehow caught between every single one of their fingers, completely unscathed.

(Dehya) "...What?"

S/O suddenly threw every single arrow back at them, each of them seemingly lethal as they instantly dropped dead, despite the fact they went through non-fatal areas of their bodies.

(S/O) "COWARD! IF YOU WANT TO FIGHT ME, SHOW YOUR FACE AND I'LL CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!"

(Dehya) sigh "I'm not even going to ask..."

Navia thought S/O was part of a theatre group from Inazuma, given how over the top they were.

She was horribly wrong, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

But it certainly made life much more interesting!...In a fiery explosion and screaming kind of way.

But Navia didn't really think S/O any less for it. She loved every bit of them!

...Even the more psychotic bits that would make everyone flee in terror.

==

Navia's bodyguards watched nervously as Navia loaded her umbrella gun.

(Bodyguard) "U-Uh, I know S/O's reflexes are good but-"

(Bodyguard 2) "Even with non-lethal ammunition, this is REALLY dangerous!"

S/O scoffed as their arms were crossed.

(S/O) "Do you really think bullets can even touch me?"

(Navia) "They're right darling, this is a spreadshot weapon at point blank-"

(S/O) "Then the King of Hearts will show you all! HIT ME, NAVIA!"

(Navia) "A-Alright...Three, two, one!-"

(S/O) "SHINING, FINGER!"

BANG!

In what seemed like an instant, S/O's hand began glowing a bright golden light as it extended out, melting all the bullets she shot upon contact, not even a single one getting through.

Navia and her bodyguards were beside themselves, unsure of what they witnessed even happened.

(Navia) "HUH?! B-BUT-"

(Bodyguard) "HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK?!"

(S/O) "Hmph! If you think what I can do is impressive, then you should see my Master."

(Navia) "S/O, PLEASE let me meet him! I want to ask him how he can just defy the laws of physics!-"

Himeko at first was convinced S/O was just some kind of actor hired to be a live-action representation of Welt's creations.

But no, they were just inside a Mecha-like suit they had created, and could do martial arts perfectly.

...A little too perfect, actually.

Himeko wants to research how the suit works, but she's pretty sure S/O would drive their fist into her stomach and make her explode if she attempted.

Just like every enemy they've come across.

But other than that? She's not exactly too bothered by their insane behavior.

In her travels, she's honestly seen worse. At least S/O uses their power for good, and heck, they even liked her coffee!

That was good enough for her!

==

Himeko and S/O were strolling through the streets before they were approached by a hooded man, pulling out a knife.

She was mildly concerned by the thug, mostly for them more than anything. After all, S/O was outside their suit.

If they called it down, there would be hell to pay.

(Thug) "Your lady looks rich, hand over all the credits you got, or I'll gut you both."

(Himeko) "Is that right? Well, if I were you, I'd put the knife away."

(Thug) "Wha-Are you stupid?! HAND IT TO ME!"

(Himeko) "Oh, we'll give you a hand, alright. S/O?"

S/O raised their fist into the air.

(S/O) "COME OOUUUUUUUUT! GUNDAAAAAAAAM!"

S/O snapped, and the ground behind them suddenly blew open, shooting debris into the air.

S/O's clothes suddenly changed into a black skin-tight suit of spandex, landing and robotic parts suddenly materializing around them.

The thug was completely shocked by what he was witnessing, while Himeko watched with mild amusement.

(S/O) "HYYYAAAAGH! HYAH! HYAH!-"

S/O was now encased inside their mech, quickly throwing punches and kicks as their machine stabilized and checked if their movements synced up.

Himeko had a blank expression, silently thinking to herself:

(Himeko) S/O has done that every single time they've transformed, and no ones' actually bothered to stop them...

(S/O) "HERE I GO!"

With their warm-up out the way, S/O's machine crossed their arms as it stared directly at the thug, eyes flashing green.

(S/O) "This hand of mine glows with AN AWESOME POWER!"

Himeko tried to contain her giggle with one hand covering her mouth as the thug began blubbering in absolute fear as S/O's hand lit up the entire alley.

(Himeko) "That's so cheesy-"

(S/O) "IT'S LOUD ROAR TELLS ME TO DEFEAT YOU!"

They immediately grabbed the thug's head as they squirmed, trying their best to make them let go.

(S/O) "SHINING FIIIIIIIIII-"

(Himeko) "Okay dear, you don't actually need to blow him up. I think he gets it."

The head slowly turned to Himeko before a sigh came through the machine, anticlimactically dropping the thug onto the ground.

(S/O) "You heard the lady. Get out of here before she hands you back to me."

(Thug) "AAAAAAAAGH, YOU FREAKS!"

They sprinted away, almost tripping themselves several times in the process.

(Himeko) "...You have got to tell me how that suit of your works someday. Where does it even come from?-"

(S/O) "It comes when I need it."

(Himeko) "...That didn't answer-"

(S/O) "And I'm not going to."

March loved the walking mechanical natural disaster that was S/O.

Did they even make remotely any kind of sense?

Aeons no, but what in this universe really made sense when you think about it?

March takes pictures of S/O all the time inside their suit, pulling off awesome attacks and hanging it on her wall. It made for some really cool wallpaper!

She also likes to steal their headband whenever they were outside their mech, as rare as it was.

March wears their headband and starts mimicking their voice, dramatically shouting in a low voice. It doesn't take her long to break character and begin laughing.

But nothing could top the moment their Master visited the Astral Express.

Upon meeting their disciple once again, the two immediately broke into a strange dance. One that March had to try. If she couldn't make something explode with her hands, then it was onto the next best thing!

==

Dan Heng, March, and S/O watched as S/O's master departed on a mechanical horse, standing perfectly upright on it, while inside their own mech suit.

(Dan Heng) "...That would certainly explain why S/O is the way they are."

(S/O) "Amazing, isn't he?"

(March 7th) "...Hey, S/O? Remember that thing you did with your Master? Do you think we can try it too?"

S/O's machine tilted its head as they responded to March.

(S/O) "Huh? Oh, the dance?...Sure, why not!"

(Dan Heng) "Uh, I think I'd rather pass-"

(S/O) "Don't be such a spoilsport! Come on: Undefeated, School of the east!"

S/O raised their fist to the middle, with March 7th quickly chiming in and doing the same.

(March 7th) "Winds of the King!"

Dan Heng simply sighed, knowing March or S/O wouldn't take no for an answer.

Finally relenting, he raised his own fist.

(Dan Heng) "Zenshin!-"

S/O retracted their fist and struck a pose, as if they were ready to begin fighting.

(S/O) "KEIRETSU!"

March leaped into the air and landed dramatically, pointing upwards into the air.

(March 7th) "TEMPA KYORAN!"

Dan Heng grabbed S/O's metallic fist as they traded places, extending their arms and connecting their fists.

(Dan Heng) "Look!-"

(S/O) "THE EAST!-"

March went to the middle, the three of them shouting in unison:

Stelle kept a straight face through all of S/O's shenanigans.

Watching them pose dramatically, witnessing their machine erupt from the ground before S/O magical girl transformed into it, dodging the explosions their fists created, all of it.

Stelle was more confused than anything.

Rules were made to be broken, but the rules of how gravity, physics, and heat worked too?

That was taking it a little too far.

She wants to know how they do it, but some questions were probably left unanswered.

==

S/O's mech crossed its arms, dramatically posing as it turned to Stelle.

A small army of malfunctioning robots approached them, threatening to attack the camp they were defending.

(S/O) "Hmph, there's too many to take them on individually."

She turned to him, eyes finally widening in surprise.

(Stelle) "Wait, you don't mean?-"

(S/O) "We have no choice! Launch me, just like how I taught you!"

(Stelle) "You can't just defy the laws of physics whenever you want-"

(S/O) "We have no time to argue, JUST DO IT!"

Stelle had performed some crazy plans in her time aboard the Astral Express, but-

Stelle took a deep breath and mimicked the crane stance, her baseball bat still in hand.

(Stelle) "CHOKYO!"

S/O went down on one knee, extending their fists.

(S/O) "HAOH!"

The two struck a dramatic pose in unison, exactly as how S/O's master had taught them.

(Both) "DEN'EIDAN!"

(S/O) "STELLE, FIRE!"

Stelle took a deep breath before swinging with all her might, with S/O suddenly leaping into the air, using her bat as a jumping point.

S/O roared out in fury, their mech spinning rapidly and turning into a tornado of red, blue, and yellow, blitzing a line through the robots, creating a single line of destruction.

Finally, S/O's mech flew up into the air, struck another pose with their feet and fists extended to one direction as if they were doing a flying kick.

(S/O) "ERUPT!"

On command, the entire army detonated at once, creating a beautiful ball of destruction as the dust cloud soared into the air, S/O slowly floating down next to Stelle.

(S/O) "HAHA! BEHOLD THE POWER OF THE SCHOOL OF MASTER ASIA!"

Stelle looked blankly at S/O, then back to the army they had destroyed together.

(Stelle) "...It's probably best I stop asking questions, isn't it?"

(S/O) "Yes!"

Oh Aeons above, S/O was a horrible influence on the kids.

Natasha does not have the mental capacity to deal with their insanity they brought with their mech onto the planet.

Hook and the others thought that S/O and their mech was the coolest thing they had ever seen.

The flashy red, blue, yellow, and white of their suit looked like an action figure.

And their warrior attitude definitely did not help things.

S/O had already made themselves notorious in the fighting club too, adding even more fuel to the fire.

She has to constantly tell the kids to not mimic her S/O.

Natasha loved them, but sometimes she wanted to slam her head against their mech in frustration.

They were great with kids, but seem to grasp no concept on impressionable children actually were.

===

Natasha treated the last of the patient's wounds, waving goodbye to them as they left.

She leaned back into her chair, taking a deep breath and finally relaxing.

Natasha opened one eye and saw that S/O's mech was standing completely still, clearly unmanned.

(Natasha) "...Strange, where is-"

She heard the kids all grunting in unison outside the window.

(Natasha) "...Oh no."

She leapt off her chair at a speed that startled some of the people inside.

Opening the door, she found Seele already approaching the clinic.

(Seele) "Nat, the kids!-"

(Natasha) "I know!"

She rushed past Seele, who quickly joined her as they rushed towards an open part of the courtyard.

S/O was standing in front of a large group of children, all mimicking their actions.

(S/O) "Put your heart into every swing! Your fists are the only way to convey how you feel!"

(Hook) "Yes, teacher!"

(Child) "S/O, do you think your Master could teach us too?!"

(S/O) "Hah! My Master would appreciate your enthusiasm, but-"

(Natasha) "S/O!"

S/O froze in fear, as did the rest of the children as every single one of them rushed to hide behind S/O.

Natasha sighed, looking at the kids, then back to her lover.

(Natasha) "What in the world are you doing?"

(S/O) "...Exercising-"

(Seele) "Really? Is that what you call it?"

(Hook) "S-S/O said they would show us the Erupting Burning-"

(Natasha) "Absolutely not! S/O, the clinic, NOW."

Seele took the kids behind her as Natasha dragged S/O out of sight.

(Child) "...Will they be alright?"

(Seele) "I don't think they will be, no."

...

(S/O) "Nat-"

(Natasha) "Do not Nat me! What are you thinking, teaching the kids such a violent move!?"

(S/O) "W-Well, I can't exactly say no to them-"

(Natasha) "Do I know it, S/O, but I don't need parents telling me their kids were trying to blow up something with their bare hands!"

(S/O) "...But I do it with the-"

(Natasha) "Don't you dare finish that sentence! If I find you trying to teach the kids your crazy moves again, I will make you explode next."

The Mech's head moved and stared at Natasha.

(Natasha) "AND YOU'LL BE FIRST IF YOU LET THE KIDS GET ANYWHERE NEAR YOU."

Both the mech and S/O stepped back in fear.

Honestly, S/O couldn't decide whether their master or Natasha was scarier.

...Probably Natasha.

[spiritofrainbursts]

Back from the Shadow Realm ( A Long Awaited Update)

- Designs not yet finalized -

- Update below the cut -

Good evening to one and all!! Welcome to the first ever Fur & Fun Friday! So in case it weren't already apparent my account recently got banished to the shadow realm as of a result of handing out invites for a Secret Santa I've been helping @head---ache out with ever since offering to help run the project back in December and wound up deactivating as a result because I didn't feel like dealing with Tumblr staff and felt it would be easier to start from scratch again so I could kick off the new page with a long awaited update regarding the future of my work. Hopefully this doesn't happen again so I don't have worry about my content gaining zero traction nor go through the hassle of creating a new account for the up tenth time, ah anxiety ye heartless bitch, but if it does then I'll be sure to get off me ass and bug the help desk next time around.

With that being said the short of it is that ya'll probably won't be seeing any art from me for awhile starting Pride Month at the very latest depending on whether or not I can get some smaller projects such as updating my Dragon, Sonic, and never before seen Poke sona's designs done and out of the way before then. Why? Well for whatever reason, whether it be the insomnia that has plagued me since senior year of highschool or the mental health issues I've unfortunately have had to deal with over the years as a result of unwanted drama, some of which was admittedly on me and too anyone who may have been caught in the crossfire at the time it all happened truly from the bottom of my heart I'm sorry if I said or did anything to hurt you and hope that wherever you are that you're living your best life regardless of whether or not you decide to forgive me for my past actions or not and hey even if you don't than that's ok too, it's no skin off my back, or even certain events from my past that have come back to haunt me with a vengeance over the years, something I've only recently come to terms with thanks some personal growth on my end that has allowed me to feel the happiest I've felt in awhile even if I don't have a lot going for me right now, for the past few years now I've had some kind of weird creative burn out that has made it difficult for me to sit down and draw as much as I used to which in turn has caused a severe decline in content on my end. As a result as soon as I complete my previously fore mentioned projects I shall here by be going on an indefinite hiatus so I may use the time to create a content buffer and get back in the swing of things. Once I do I'll be sure to set up a new side blog to share my work on a semi regular basis again and hopefully when I do I can start bringing in some income in the form of merch as well as potential adopts so if you'd be interested in receiving some prints and/or characters from me then be sure to be on look out for that as well as a couple of secret projects I'm hoping to start production for in the coming months hue hue 😉 Until then however you can at the very least expect to start seeing some written martial from me throughout the course of this year starting with my contribution for Kat's Secret Santa event come Valentines Day so be sure to keep an eye on my Rainburst Studios tag in the near future and be sure to follow me on my new A03 for updates! (Just a heads up that I'll be changing my user back to Spiritofrainbursts on there come Wednesday as I changed my mind last minute lol Also I lied you'll technically be seeing a fic from me before Valentines Day even if it's a reupload of an older one shot I never got a chance to finish, and never will or at least as is, for archival purposes.)

Welp that's all from me folks so if you have any questions feel free to send them my way via the inbox otherwise 🎶 SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT 🎶 cause this girl needs some 🎶 SLEEEPP 🎶 (Yes that was an MCR joke. Deal with it cause I've gotten deep into their music as of late and intend to start making a crap ton of jokes based off their songs alongside some other rock bands and/or rock music I enjoy such as Crush 40 or Carry on my Wayward Son by Kansas.)

[silcobrainrot]

Get to know your mutuals!

Thank you for the tag @teawithghosts! I love a good tag game

What's the origin of your blog title?

It's on the tin my dude 😂🥵

OTP(s)+ shipnames(s):

This is my Arcane blog, so my Arcane OTP is Story x Character-Driven Plot. I liked Zaundads before it became wholesome. Sometimes when I put Jinx and Silco in a blender it comes out Jilco, so read the tags. Shipping really isn't that important to me tho. No one's ready for my ace headcanons.

Favourite color:

Purple. The hue my hair is (ask for pics).

Song stuck in your head:

Okay I discovered and then forgot Murder Drones existed, recently remembered so I have finally seen episode 8 and now the final boss song has been stuck in my head for like a week

Weirdest habit/trait:

3+ way conversations with myself. Sometimes I weaponize this for fic writing.

Hobbies:

GOOD FUCKING QUESTION Writing, bookbinding, film photography, starting collections and never finishing them because I start collecting something else

If you work, what's your profession?

Day job I'm customer support for a tech company. Theoretically I'm a freelance filmmaker on the side but I'm in between projects right now.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

I went to school for filmmaking and if it were up to me I'd be a full time video colorist by now, but school doesn't teach you the boring bits so we're still working on it.

Something you're good at:

Yeah I'll say it I'm a good writer. I know I'm a good writer. Mind the tags. I'm also good at my pictures. You have to be at least okay at film photography to get an image at all and I get those consistently.

Something you hate:

Borrowing one from prev, "proship DNI" culture. Grow up lol.

When something juuuuust barely doesn't fit. Applies to any and all circumstances.

That fanart is perfectly acceptable to monetize but fanfiction isn't. Not talking about copyright law, just in terms of fandom etiquette. There are people that make a consistent income out of fanart and fanmerch and commissions of copyrighted characters, but tell someone you took ONE writing commission or dare to have a Ko-Fi linked somewhere and they'll call the copyright holders themselves to make an example out of you. I know why it's more complicated legally, culturally people just don't think writing is as valuable of a skill.

Something you collect:

Anytime I take my film camera on an adventure I try finding a souvenir pin nearby. I'm making a map of where I've been on my camera bag.

Something you forget:

Oh lots of things, but I can't fucking remember any specifics 🤣

What's your love language:

Touch. I used to have a lot of platonic intimacy with my friends in middle and high school and it ruined adult life for me. I think the only fate worse than "touch starved and has never known touch" is "touch starved and used to have it all the time and now has none."

Favourite movie/show:

Movie [at the time of this question being asked]: I'm on a Cloverfield kick again

TV [at the time of this question being asked]: Arcane season 1

Favourite food:

Rice in any form. Humans really popped off with rice, potatoes, and bread.

Favourite animal:

Bats 🦇🥰 hoary bats are my favorite local species

What were you like as a child:

Talkative and extremely depressed. I knew when people were only pretending to listen.

Favourite subject at school:

English I guess. My favorite teachers were always English teachers. My school system was very essay-focused and by 8th grade they were letting us choose our own topics for the most part, so I learned that I actually enjoyed breaking stories down to their parts and seeing what makes them tick.

Least favourite subject:

Math. I learned I have discalculia a few years after graduating college.

What's your best character trait?

The BPD

What's your worst character trait?

Need to be right. Not in a "everyone else is the problem and I don't need to learn about anything" way but in a "if I'm wrong about this I deserve death and will never redeem myself" type way

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

"My mom is surviving cancer" -> "my mom will never have cancer"

-----

WOOF this got serious didn't it? Can't help it. Anyway no-pressure tags [apologies if you've been tagged before it's hard to keep track of the ones that aren't reblog chains]: @elizaviento @southsidestory @godlygivenanxiety @wildlybewitched @sorceressofthesky @constantfragmentation @mandofury

[rbarrysncream]

Ey yo, not to get cheesy on my blog, but in the spirit of the Baftas, I wanted to genuinely thank a few of the blogs I follow here for keeping me wrapped in the GO and DT fandom, and subsequently, having my art improve a TON because of it.

(this is gonna be a long one, so strap in, or scroll if you don't wanna read my ramblings, lol)

Tw: mentions of depression, art block, and unmotivation

For a bit of background, up until October of 2024, I was in a nearly seven month long (honestly, probably more like 1 year) stretch of unending art block. I was feeling really bad about my art style, and I started doubting my future as an artist. I was barely putting any effort into any of my college projects, and I stayed up late crying and panicking because I just didn't enjoy making art anymore, and I was afraid I'd end up with a job I hated because I don't have any other skills. The only source of comfort I had at the time was David Tennant media. I was teased a lot about my special interest by my family (it was all good natured, don't worry), but I was the only one that I knew personally who liked David as much as I did. Which brings us to the first person I wanna mention: @davidtennantgenderenvy

I can't pinpoint when or how I discovered their Youtube channel, but when I did, I honestly felt more seen than I ever had about my insane special interest with this actor. And she was a musical theater nerd who maladaptive daydreamed all his characters to different musical songs??!? It was genuinely like finding my twin, and made me feel just a bit more normal about my love for David's projects. I then clicked on her Tumblr link and began looking around the website (without an account, mind you, I was just browsing), but when I did, I eventually stumbled across the art blog @hg-aneh, and fell in love with his style and how he drew Aziraphale and Crowley.

His art was so cute and simple and it just made me sadder that I was stuck in this never ending artist's block. However, one day, I was looking at one of his works (I can't remember which one it was, im sorry), and I was like, "You know what? Just to humor myself, I'll make a quick sketch in his style. Cuz its cute! And it won't be too detailed. So I did. Sure, I quickly erased the sketch, but that was the first time in MONTHS that I had made my own art outside of school work. It must have kicked something off, because I started sketching on my iPad again, slowly but surely making more and more little pieces. Which again, isn't much, but it was such a huge step for me. Yeah, I started focusing more time on my personal art than my school work, and my grades suffered because of it, but I was SO happy that I was finding some joy in making art again.

I finally got Tumblr around the middle of October, thanks to some persuading by davidtennantgenderenvy when I told them I wanted to show them some Macbeth fan art I made, but I didn't have any social media. I asked them if Tumblr would be worth getting, and they assured me it was, so I made an account and almost immediately started getting likes. It honestly made me want to cry because I always thought my art was boring and uninteresting. It doesn't help that around this time, I was barely getting any feedback from my peers during class critiques, so I just assumed my art wasn't anything anyone wanted to look at. But then the first Macbeth piece I posted on here got so many notes, that I was like "eh, I'll post my Good Omens fan art too. What could go wrong?" Nothing went wrong, and I continued getting notes on the pieces that I posted, and I was almost confused by it? I can't really explain it but I was like "wait, so is my art good, or are these people just taking pity on me?" (I have a huge complex about pity, but we don't need to get into that LOL)

Anyways, I started making art primarily just to post on Tumblr, but I guess the practice was beginning to pay off, because when I would barely get any feedback on my classwork pieces, people in class started speaking up a bit about my work. Giving compliments and critiques, which helped so much. Wanted to cry when it happened again lol.

Can't really write out a good segue between these two points, but another person I wanted to thank was @depraveddame . If you don't know who she is, she is an insanely talented writer who, I think I discovered back when I was just browsing Tumblr without an account. I started reading her ao3 story Vine Slips of a Strange God, which is a human AU Good Omens fanfic, for those who have not read her work yet. First off, I am NOT a reader. Like, you could not pay me to read a book in my spare time, so idk what drew me to this fanfic (it was probably the mention of 'hurt/comfort' in the tags, ngl.) But I ATE THAT SHIT UP OH MY GOD IT WAS SO GOOD. It took me a bit to click with the story, but when I DID?!?! It genuinely took over my life in the best way. There was also BEAUTIFUL art in the chapters, made by the very talented @zivilzz .The way they colored and shaded their pieces made me want to practice on my coloring and shading, and it has improved so much because of it. I ended up reading all of her works in the span of like, a week or two. I also made a small sketch of her gardener Crowley around the time I started slowly getting back into making my own art. I ended up loving Vine Slips so much, that I'm currently planning on making a comic of one of my favorite scenes in the story. Also, while depraveddame is an amazing writer, she also informed me a TON about the BDSM community. (btw, if you don't support the bdsm community, and you think its morally wrong, or that it should be illegal, unfollow me rn.) But anyways, I used to be a bit judgy about the idea of bdsm. I knew of it, and I never thought it should be illegal, but I would just ask myself "why? why would you do that to another person, or why would you just let that happen to you?" Luckily, I don't think that way anymore, and it is very much thanks to her insane writing.

Also one more person I want to thank, that doesn't really have anything to do with my art improvement was @aq2003 for prayer circling for me to be able to watch Macbeth at my nearest cinema *cough* 50 minutes away during a snow storm *cough*. Genuinely, thank you, dude, that recording changed my life

OOH!! and also, thank you, @davidtennan-t for chubby Fourteen 🥹

Damn, this was a long post, sorry y'all, but basically, the point of this post is, while I have many things to thank for my latest improvement of art, I really dont think it would have been able to happen as quickly as it did without these blogs, so thank you guys so much, you'll never know how much it meant to me.

yes, I cried while typing this, shhhhhhhh

[the-amber-raven]

Alright, I usually try and keep this blog positively focused but I'm going for it this time.

This was a shit episode. I fucking hated it. The only good part was Eddie finally 'dadding up', getting Chris back, and standing up to his parents (and you know what the matter-of-fact way he did it, especially with Helena, was actually so much more satisfying than a shouting match would have been because it didn't give Helena a way to twist the situation so I'll give the writers kudos for this One (1) thing only).

But the rest of it fell into the worst aspects of Seasons 7 and 8A, where it was obvious that the needs of the plot were driving the character's actions rather than the characters driving the plot. It made no fucking sense for Buck, Chim and Bobby to all forget Hen's birthday for no particular reason. It also made no sense for them to forget someone they rescued LITERALLY LESS THAN A DAY AGO (side note what the fuck was the timeline of this episode??) and the stupid "brouhaha oh yeah yeah yeah you're the guy whose girlfriend cheated on you on top of you haha that was so funny" when their memory was finally jogged was WILDLY out of character - I'd say for all of them but especially for Bobby.

And that ending...

If there is one thing I have been able to have faith in this show about it's that it would give me the found family feels. Through all the fandom negativity and shipping wars from the last few years I've at least been able to hold onto that.

And then, after an episode where apparently no one in the family cares enough about Hen to notice it's her birthday (except Queen Athena, let's give her her dues), we get Buck being excluded from the dinner.

Buck, whose whole arc at the moment is about his abandonment issues, is excluded when food being the symbol of acceptance and love has been one of the most significant and enduring metaphors of the entire show. And this is after he's worked his ass off to try and 'regain' that acceptance and love after screwing up by forgetting Hen's birthday?

Fuck unconditional love and acceptance (or 'loving him anyway'), I guess. Thank God Bobby at least made him a "to-go" container because otherwise I think I legitimately might have cried at the idea that he just got kicked out with literally nothing.

And look I'm not going to deny that I'm probably more upset about it than I should be but this whole episode just felt like it completely lacked the biggest thing that drew me to 9-1-1 in the first place and the thing that has kept me coming back despite everything - the family they made and the family they chose.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Where we go from here...

It took me awhile last evening to get my mind in the right place to do the baking I had to do. I thought I would put on some music on my little radio station to kick my head into work mode. Tried some Glenn Gould playing Bach (always a go-to for morning coffee music), and it didn't hit right.

So I dialed up the huge mix I have titled "1969-72" and almost immediately started the long road back to feeling like myself. After about a half-hour, I was in the groove. Listened to the mix far into the night, after I'd finished working.

I managed to keep my focus and got the cookies all baked, and kiddo's mom happily packed them up and just left for her party, and I'm over here for the next couple of nights, sadly for my back. Two nights of "No Mattress For Old Men" and I'll need a week to recover, but hey...

Wanna thank all y'all for your comments and messages when I posted that I was prolly just gonna go black. Y'all loved me back off the ledge. Posted in a moment of true despair...something I haven't felt in awhile. I am hurting for all of us...and all of you. I have never in my long life been scared for the nation until now. Or at least that's what I thought. This feeling of complete despair, the emotional pain of millions of people, the hopelessness, the fear for the future...after I sat with it awhile I realized yes, that I have felt this same combination of toxic shit before.

In the 65 years I've been on this stinkin' rock, I've been through a number of particularly devastating previous elections, most notably the two Bush2(Dumbya) regimes. I remember the night of the 2004 election...Americans were posting tearful photos taken by their webcams, with them holding up signs saying "We're sorry."

I saw first-hand all the fights for rights that we have gained from the early '60s onward. To find ourselves set back to square one, 50-60 years later, when we had finally gained some footing toward fairness, is cruel. And cruelty is what they will wield as their main weapons in the coming days, as we suddenly find ourselves in the same predicament as 1963-65 when a virginal Joan Baez and little Bobby Dylan changed protest music forever.

So yes, I have felt this same way, and no, the nation didn't die or descend into complete chaos. Our lives went on, essentially as they had, with a growing pile of "things we can't do anymore" heaped atop via the collective wounding of 9/11.

This is another collective wounding--an intentional collective wounding. The next few months are going to be chaotic, they will try to push through their agenda as quickly as possible come january.

I may not post much overtly political stuff from this point on, but if I do it will be refocused on positive news. I don't know for certain how long that might last, but I can't take a 24/7 barrage of bad news and outrage bait. I'm probably gonna unfollow a few blogs, but don't think it's personal...it is Mental/Emotional Health Care.

And yes, I've been in the trenches with y'all a long time...we are all Family at this point...Brothers and Sisters in arms. I'm not leaving, but my presence/role will be different, out of the renewed sense of self-preservation this has thrust me into.

I woke up disoriented, but quickly remembered I'd gotten what I needed to get done done, and had a slow re-entry, sipping my coffee for a couple hours. I kept remembering how well the music had helped me last night, and then the beginnings of what this might turn into began to coalesce. Concepts of a plan. lulz.

As the day went on, I've been on a roller-coaster, emotionally, with seemingly hopeful leads on a roommate not materializing, on top of my craigslist ad for a roomie getting flagged and deleted. Pretty goddamn hopeless as far as this situation is going.

Looked at the huge box of cookies I'd managed to bake last night and it hit me. I've been reblogging the "Gooood Morning, TUMBLR!" graphics every morning up until the election. The image of Robin Williams being in character calling up the role of the military DJ.

Back when I did my cafe in the mountains of NM, a friend lent me a book called "Radio Venceramos", about South American rebels who had a radio transmitter and clamped the leads to the barbed-wire fences to broadcast their signal/programming to their fellow rebels.

Still not sure how the format will work out, but I've decided: my new role is going to primarily be the voice of inspiration over the air-waves to my fellow rebels. Not sure if it will be a second blog or if it will be a continuation of PTSD, but with no further ado, I will become the Voice of my fellow rebels with:

I may make a second blog out of it, but until then I guess I'll make it a series of posts. Tumblr will let you blog up to ten videos/post, and that may be how I start things out. Consider them like stacks of 45s and LP tracks from my paul-shaffer-brain...meant to help keep spirits up and keep the focus.

Made a couple of graphics, will probably try others in the course of it.

So the message today was "You did what you had to do. Heal up for what's ahead."

I will probably start this new focus in the morning...I'm still chewin'.

[cebwrites]

since you wanted some uncommon character requests; could i request some sfw and nsfw relationship headcanons for penguin x reader and shachi x reader? If they're not too out of the way for you (～￣▽￣)～ I rarely see those two requested for, so I'd love to see you're take on them! [I'd ask off anon but i can't ask from a non-primary blog - I'll be reblogging to @remisloves if you wanted an identity (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)b ]

a/n: surprisingly they aren't around these parts, I've gotten quite a few requests for the boys lol - but since you asked nicely, sure <3 [thank you so much for including your blog too, it feels nice to actually put usernames to people （；´д｀）ゞ]

Relationship Headcanons (Penguin, Shachi)

gn reader, trans penguin, nsfw under the cut self-indulgence unrelated to pen and shach at the end cw; blood, funky OP-verse sex toys word count: 1.1k

Penguin

Penguin was the oldest of the original Heart Pirates quartet, he's always been the oldest even when it was just him and Shachi, before and after the tsunami that left them with Shachi's horrible, horrible relatives

It's made him protective over the people he holds dear, incredibly worrisome even if he tries to hide it, but also surprisingly nurturing for someone who seemingly goofs off as much as his counterpart does

He makes snacks, he checks up on the crew, and has a bad habit of taking too much onto himself, although not nearly as badly as the notorious Heart captain, Penguin still struggles with that "eldest sibling" mentality even if most of the crew is quite a bit older than him; he vehemently denies any teasing you or the crew give him about passing on those traits to Law

When it comes to you, Pen likes to keep a close eye on you even when things are calm and everyone's having fun, not that he doesn't trust you to take care of yourself, but he'd just like to make sure no one's getting hurt or too carried away when his crew mates' usual brand of shenanigans kick into high gear

There's a cute kind of shyness when he opens up to you for the first time; yeah agreeing to being in a relationship is one thing but it's another to actually know the person you love and with Penguin, it's tentative, almost scared, but genuine

He's hesitant to let you come too close at first, become too physical, an insecurity that you do your best to quell but it isn't easy, Pen's become used to protecting himself and his own so much that vulnerability is alien

Being topless with the guys on the Tang's deck, whacking each other on the ass with freshly laundered towels is one thing, but being intimate with his partner in a private room is another entirely

Still, you're patient with him, you don't react poorly when he gets overwhelmed at the protective layers of clothes hitting the floor, you allow him space, and eventually, maybe even agonizingly slowly, he lets you in - starting with a held pinky while Penguin catches his breath with his shirt off, his nerves getting the best of him after getting a little more handsy than usual that day

When the dam finally breaks, when he's comfortable showing himself to you in his entirety, you're surprised at how ravenous Penguin actually is - he's insatiable, betraying the composure he carries himself with throughout the day

In the bedroom, against the wall, in the communal bathroom and over the Tang's railing when everyone's asleep, hell, even in an alleyway once when the both of you had time to kill on a random island while everyone else was getting wasted, he can't keep his hands off you

Penguin loves watching you eat him out, one hand in your hair while the other shakily props himself up, but what he loves more is the view he gets when you're sucking him off

The Grand Line is.... an anomaly, neither you or Pen are here to dispute that - weird as it is, however, it's often resourceful once you can get past the initial recoil; all that to say—Penguin got his hands on seeds that, once "planted" between his vulva, allowed him to temporarily grow a fully functioning phallus

By god, Pen loves the way you look bouncing on it

He digs his nails into your waist, laps up the sweat on your skin, his grip is hard enough to bruise but you're no better, egging him on to take you after you've done such good work prepping his cock, prepping yourself for him

And really how could he say no after all that

Shachi

The MOST live in your hoodies mf to ever; he's clingy, he's affectionate, he mock-whines if you've been apart from him for too long like a pup with separation anxiety

To some degree you both know it's an act he puts on to vie for your attention, but there's also a real part of him that worries if he lets his hold on you slip a little too much, you'll disappear

I like to think Shachi's part fishman too, so there's a quiet part of him that worries his partner would leave if they found out, or couldn't handle the treatment you'd get by proxy of being so close to a fishman, even if he wasn't full-blooded - yet every day you find ways to reassure him that'll never happen

In return, he'll climb to the top of the Tang's mast to yell about how much he loves you and how perfect you are, he's a little obnoxious in the Maes Hughes "look at my adorable family" kind of way but you can forgive the mild embarrassment when he flashes his award-winning smile full of razor-sharp chompers

Shachi takes incredible pride in being the one who takes care of the Heart Pirates' hair, his little summer job on Swallow Island for the few years that he spent as a stylist really did turn into a passion for him, even if his occupation on paper is "pirate", but hey, who's keeping track anyways?

Despite his enthusiasm about most everything else, he's incredibly delicate with you initially, constantly checking in to see if you're alright, making sure boundaries aren't crossed, confirming that you are, in fact, enjoying yourself like the big shell-conchus dweeb he is, Shachi just wants to make sure you're alright

Not that he doesn't still check up on you now, he absolutely does, but now with a decent amount of shared time between you two, he's a lot less jumpy about things, more confident in his stride - or rather stroke, I should say

He's loud, peppers you in kisses all over, hell if other people can hear, Shachi needs you to know that he adores every part of you - it does result in an addition of both of your chores (takes two to tango), so whenever the sub drops anchor the both of you try to sneak off to a love hotel given the option of free roam at least once if possible

Shachi answers to you completely, he marks you up at your command and eases whenever you show the slightest discomfort; still, when you do manage to convince him to let loose, he definitely takes the phrase leaving his mark literally - with those exact teeth

He laps at the wounds he leaves as he makes love to you, smearing crimson and words of praise against your body like hymns of devotion, pulling you impossibly close and sharing your taste when you pull him in for a kiss, still trying to hold back that animal desire

The aftercare is just as tender, just as sweet, but maybe a little awkward the first time around when he has to explain to Law why he's sneaking medical supplies away while you sit in the middle of blood stained sheets like you're the victim of a murder

And a bonus for me since writing this had me thinking about it-

I know Law goes down on their man like a champ; inexperienced initially? Yes, but they learn quickly and spite from being teased is a good motivator as any, plus, pleasing their partner, of course

Kirin's got his dick out? Not a problem, they're making him beg for it, the E, As, and T on their fingers might not see the light for hours, not until they're satisfied with edging Kirin until he cries

The only one who beats them at that is Zoro but realistically, no one's topping the King of Cock, not unless Zoro finds it in his heart to not power-bottom Sanji for the night

[onlyglaives]

Kicking this blog off with the best Glaive, the only Glaive, the one true Glaive - The Enigma! I'm about to get very wordy.

A very tasty weapon, The Enigma (respect the name!!) is a Void oriented weapon obtained from the Witch Queen quests. (However, this one has been with me so long I've forgotten how exactly it came to be!) It was introduced alongside weapon crafting, and if it isn't one of the most well known weapons, it should be.

Not necessarily the longest Glaive, or the fanciest, but The Enigma is reliable and won't see you locked out of a fight. An Adaptive Glaive, it doesn't succeed in any particular area, but since Glaives aren't considered the strongest weapon that doesn't matter. It hits smoothly, feels nice to chain melee hits, and has an ok shield. That's good enough for me!

I love being able to get out of a close range fight by bashing my way out rather than blowing myself up accidentally (thanks, any explosive weapon I've ever handled).

Being craftable, it has an amazing range of perks to choose from, and all have their uses. Some with more use than others, but I have tried a few different perk combos. My current Loadout includes the Lightweight Emitter, Light Mag, Impulse Amplifier, Thresh and the Psychohack origin. However, I'm likely to change Thresh back to Unrelenting now that I'm not using Bad Juju.

Thankfully, The Enigma is great with pretty much all its perks, and it's simply a matter of deciding how you want to fight that day.

Personally (and I'm gonna get into crafting here) I say these are the shakedowns (of course, keep in mind this is my own opinion, I'm sure you have your favourite perks regardless of what others think):

PvP:

Ballistic Tuning, Swap, Threat Detector/Impulse Amplifier, Unstoppable Force

PvE:

Ballistic Tuning/Lightweight Emitter, Swap/Light Mag, Impulse Amplifier, Unrelenting/Frenzy.

Elaboration:

PvP: generally with a Glaive you want to get in and out, but if you do get into a gunfight there are a few options. Ballistic Tuning, while diverting the shield, increases range. This perk makes it so you can do both the stab stab and the pew pew better. Swap, obviously, because in PvP timing is crucial. One slow draw and that Hunter with the double perk weapon has gunned you down.

Threat Detector just gives good stat boosts when there's someone nearby, but if you want faster shooting, go Impulse. Unstoppable force increases that damage. So you can hit fast and hard, or get stat bonus and damage.

PvE: More combinations are possible here simply because all situations are so varied. I would not suggest taking Glaives into end game situations, but to say that would also make me a hypocrite. Glaives are love, Glaives are life.

Anyway. Ballistic for the reasons in PvP, but Lightweight Emitter does much the same, but with slightly less range. In exchange you get extra handling. Swap, again, it's just good to quickly change weapons, but also Light Mag, to increase reload speed and range.

Impulse Amplifier lets you keep that speed going. The faster you shoot, the quicker you stab, the faster the enemy dies. Unrelenting works because health regen is sorely needed when you go in Glaive blazing, bashing all those ads within an inch of their lives. Also works with Impulse to increase your speed. Frenzy is great in general, because increased stats in a prolonged gunfight are crazy good - who doesn't love even faster reload and more damage?

Finally, as parting words, I'll say this: the Enigma fits many roles due to its versatility - close range, far range, it works on all fronts. That's how Adaptable it is!

If all weapons were held away from me, and I was told to only use one for the rest of my game experience, I wouldn't pick The Enigma. However, if you let me choose one Primary, Energy and Heavy, The Enigma would be my first choice for the Energy slot. The Enigma is my one true love, and a weapon I'll cherish for as long as the game still runs (and maybe long after).

Thank you for listening, and make sure to polish your Glaives ;)

...but seriously, take them out of your Vault and give one a try.

[ladykailitha]

Posting Schedule and Story Update

I know, I know I don't have a posting schedule, not really. At least in terms of what gets published when, only the days of the week stuff gets posted.

Well for the next four weeks there will be one:

Never Hold Back Your Step...- Sundays

Well Met By Moonlight- Tuesdays

Icarus- Thursdays

Special- Saturdays*

But I'm also getting worryingly low on my backlog (like I'm about dip into single digit range) and I hate having it that low.

So what I usually do is take a week or so off posting and build it back up. And I would normally take the week of my birthday off (Aug 14) to play catch up, but...

Yeah, I'm planning on posting the final chapter of Well Met By Moonlight (werewolf Steve) on the 13th. One year after it's release and since I'm releasing on that day, it doesn't make sense to only post that day and none of the rest of the week.

Also depending on what I am doing on the 14th (as whether or not my husband works) will decide whether or not I'm doing WIP Wednesday that day because if I'm not really doing anything, than I would prefer hanging out with you guys and writing. But I'll keep you posted the closer that gets.

But if he does have it off, I'll take it off and have two days the next week to make up for it. It would also be that week that I would take off posting and probably the next week as well. It depends on how much I get done.

But here's the exciting part, during this time between now and Aug 18th I will continue to work on the exotic club one and will have a ton of fun chapters to share when I get back from my break.

I will still be doing WIP Wednesdays and posting ideas and meta and headcanons and all that fun stuff. And maybe some fun polls too.

Also it is looking like "Never Hold Back Your Step..." (boy w/a bat) will be only 17 chapters long (maybe only 16 depending on how much of the Mind Flayer fight I put in it). I'm hoping it'll be only 16 really so that it can end the same week as Well Met.

I think a lot of people are hoping for their favorite parts of season 3, but this story was never meant to re-write canon. It was just meant to look into the idea that Eddie picked Steve up as a lost sheepie between season 2 and 3. Something that at the time there wasn't a lot of.

We'll see.

But expect to see me start posting again on Sept 1st for sure or on Aug 25th, if I have a really good week. And I'll be kicking it off the exotic dancer one, which I'm really excited for.

*Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate will be finished this Saturday. Leaving the Caged Bird Still Sings (sugar baby!Steve/sugar daddy!Eddie) to take its posting slot on Saturdays.

Tagging my permanent list to make sure everyone who needs to see this can.

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[kalied0skull]

Just started your Soda playlist, and oh my GODS first song on is come on Eileen and it’s SUCH a song Soda would bop to, you need a have an opening scene or a more rp-ish scene with Steve or Cola or some with him listening to it and dancing. ITS SO HIM. It might clash with the timelines a bit but there’s also Aliens so.

AHAHAAH I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKE IT !!! it's one of my favorite "soda would dance to this" songs i have in there ! :D

since I'm taking a momentary break from the soda blog (just woke up too so y'know) I'll write something down here just as a little snippet like their typical clips!

@sodapopcurtis-dx-asks

Soda wandered outside of the DX into the autoshop to find Steve working roughly on a car.

The noise from Soda's stereo radio was enough to get Steve to slowly roll out from under the car with a firm frown.

He held a stereo radio to his head with a firm hand, blaring the song. Soda was cheesing hard as he swayed side to side. “Hiya, Stevie!” He placed the stereo down on a work table, now giving himself more freedom to dance with both arms and legs.

“Soda, what're you up to? I'm tryna work her—” He was cut off as he was snatched up off of the creeper by Soda, getting dragged up and onto his feet to dance with him.

“Dance with me!” Soda laughs, holding their hands close to him as he tilted Steve side to side with each extended arm.

Steve grumbled trying to pull away and sit back down, only to end up accidentally kicking the creeper back under the car. “Soda– hehe– quit!”

“Poor ol' Johnny Ray! ” Soda sang in his face, twirling Steve around and pulling him back in.

It took Steve's breath away for a second, being spun around and pulled back close. His face was close to Soda's for just a moment, the words being sung to him at a loud volume at close proximity made Steve laugh.

Sounded sad upon the radio,

But he moved a million hearts in mono!

Our mothers cried!

Sang along

Who'd blame them?

Soda swayed them both side to side, rocking on their feet and swishing to the beat. He giggled, focusing on the floor as to not stare at Steve much. “ Too-ra-loo-ra, too-ra-loo-rye, aye... And we can sing just like our fathers! ”

Steve groaned, he wasn't truly annoyed but he did want to get back to his work... unfortunately for him though, Soda's dancing powers were too hard for him to overcome. So, he gave in finally.

They danced together until the end of the song, spinning in circles and pulling each other in and out, dancing until their legs hurt and the song changed to the next one.

At the end, they both plopped down straight onto the floor, giggling and shaking their heads. Steve sprawled out, Soda criss-crossed.

“You gonna let me get back to work now that y've tired yerself out?” Steve probbed Soda with a finger, accusingly so.

Soda burst out giggling, getting up and grabbing his radio. “Yeah, yeah. I'm goin'!” He smiled wide.

“Don't say you didn't have fun with me though!”

And with that, he skipped back out of the shop to go back into the DX. Leaving Steve out of breath and laughing to himself as he searched for the creeper.

“God, he's gonna kill me with that smile one of these days.” He cursed, trying to rub the blush off his face.