#using all tags i can think of to reach more people

[gilbertscurls]

all in — matt sturniolo

Matt’s heart was pounding.

Not the normal kind of pounding, like when he was excited about a new video idea or about to win an argument with his brothers. No, this was the terrifying kind—the kind that made his chest feel too tight, his hands too shaky, his brain too loud.

He wasn’t used to feeling like this.

He was supposed to be the easygoing one, the laid-back guy who didn’t overcomplicate things. Love? That was always something he kept at arm’s length. Too messy, too unpredictable. He had seen too many people get hurt—seen too many relationships fall apart because someone cared too much and the other person not enough.

But with you?

With you, it wasn’t messy. It wasn’t complicated.

It was everything.

Which was why he was currently sitting beside you on your couch, trying not to pass out from nerves, knowing that in about thirty seconds, he was going to say something that would change everything.

He swallowed hard, rubbing his palms against his jeans.

“You good?” you asked, raising a brow.

No. He was not good. He was about to rip his heart out and hand it to you on a silver platter, hoping you wouldn’t throw it back at him.

But he nodded anyway. “Yeah. Fine.”

You gave him a skeptical look, shifting to face him. “You look like you’re about to either throw up or confess a murder.”

He huffed a laugh. “It’s not murder.”

“Okay… so throwing up, then.”

Matt rolled his eyes but took a deep breath. This was it. No backing out now.

“I—” He hesitated, then forced himself to meet your gaze. “I need to tell you something.”

Your expression softened, your full attention on him now. “Okay.”

His heart was racing in his chest, his palms sweaty in anticipation. He was laying it all on the line, leaving nothing between you. He was exposing his heart, hoping that you would take it and hold it gently.

“I don’t think I can do this casual thing anymore,” he admitted, voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Your brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

Matt exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I mean… I don’t want to be just your friend. Or your almost something. I don’t want to pretend that what we have is just fun or easy because it’s not. It’s more. You’re more.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you didn’t say anything, so he kept going.

“I��ve spent my whole life thinking relationships had to be complicated, that love was supposed to be this impossible, messy thing that never lasted.” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “But then I met you. And now I know I can’t just settle for anything less than this. Less than you.”

Silence.

Matt swore the room was spinning.

And then—

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured.

He blinked. “What—”

Before he could process what was happening, you reached out and grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss so sudden, so right, that he forgot how to breathe.

It wasn’t fireworks or dramatic music swelling in the background. It wasn’t like the movies, where everything clicked into place in a perfect, cinematic moment.

It was better.

It was warm and soft and real.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, smiling. “You think I don’t want this?”

Matt exhaled shakily, eyes searching yours. “I—”

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something for weeks,” you admitted, laughing softly. “Do you know how hard it was not to kiss you every time you smiled at me?”

Matt blinked. “Wait, what?”

You rolled your eyes. “God, you’re so slow.”

“I’m slow?! You could’ve said something too, you know.”

“But this is so much more fun.”

Matt groaned, dropping his head onto your shoulder, but he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.

Because for the first time in a long time, he had everything he wanted.

And for once?

Love didn’t feel so complicated after all.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim237, @courta13, @frankdelreyy, @evansturn

[makeitworse]

illicit affairs

˖ ࣪✦ sangwoo × f reader | nsfw, mdni!

sangwoo’s weaved in and out of your life, blurring the line between a carer and a lover. old feelings of spite and shame resurface on your last night together.

c/w: age gap (sangwoo late 40s, reader ~20s), daddy issues/kink, freudian as HELL, angst, brat tamer sangwoo, mutually toxic, smoking, cheating, grooming if you squint?, praise, plot heavy w eventual porn a/n: idk if this needs to be tagged as dc lmk. also sorry for being on a writing hiatus i got super fucking sick

sangwoo had a way of burrowing under your skin. like an itch you could never reach, unless you clawed into yourself and ripped the flesh apart just to get to him.

he always showed up just when seeing him was the absolute last thing you needed. and that was especially true for now, more than ever.

but when your phone lit up on the bedside table with an unknown number, you knew he was back for you— and you just caved. it’s all you knew how to do with him.

you flicked the bedroom lights on, darting around to gather your belongings.

“what’re you doing?” a sleepy voice drawls.

you don’t look up at him, focused on putting whatever it is you’re holding into your bag. you weren’t paying attention to that. your mind was scrambling for an excuse. a lie.

“i’m going out.” you say flatly.

“at this time?” his voice perks up now, checking his phone.

he’s so worried. so caring. and you’re going to have to crush that beneath the heel of your foot.

you don’t even know what to tell him. you just say the first thing that feels natural: “my father’s in the city.”

he sits up from the bed in a shock. rightfully so.

“your father?? since when are you in touch with him?”

it was actually a well-known fact that the presence of a father was a gaping wound in your life. you’d never known the man. but, even a lie like this was easier to explain than the truth of who you were actually seeing.

“i’ll explain later, alright? i really need to leave—”

your voice was laced with annoyance. you couldn’t think of an elaborate enough fable right now for any questions, and sangwoo was waiting.

but he crawls across the bed to catch your hand in his before you can shoot out of the door.

you meet his eyes and swallow thickly. those sweet eyes. so caring and kind. you’re going to ruin him.

you cup his cheek in your hand, tenderly swiping your thumb across the skin. he needily leans into your touch.

“i’ll be back in the morning, and we can talk all about it. okay?”

he nods. your heart pangs when you notice his glossy eyes. a better girl would’ve crawled into the bed with him and thrown your phone out of the window. but that’s not the girl sangwoo called tonight.

the air’s bitter as you walk the streets. barely anyone’s out late at this time of year, with how harsh the cold is. no one to see you two together. just how he liked.

sangwoo hated getting stares. you used to take it personally, the fact he didn’t want to be seen with you in such a way. what’s so wrong with people suspecting the worst? it was the truth after all.

that was a while ago though, back when you were spiteful about why he wouldn’t just settle down with you. how he was always disappearing but then couldn’t leave you be.

you didn’t blink at those things now— it’d been nearing a year since you last actually heard from him. you were just starting to come to terms with the fact he was gone for good this time.

you finally dabbled in other men (ones closer to your age). you’d been shown shades in comparison to the colours you already saw with sangwoo. you were chasing the fervour of your memories with him— and one boy had finally promised you something sangwoo never would’ve dared. eternal commitment. a ring on your finger.

..and you told him you’d think about it.

well, you were just laying in his bed without any plans of leaving. you were on the cusp of a new life without the overarching shadow of your estranged lover.

but then, of course, he called.

speak of the devil: you spot sangwoo standing at a corner store under dingy, neon lights. he’s tidied up like always, wearing a loose grey suit over a white collared shirt— no tie.

sangwoo calls your name softly when he sees you approach, his voice almost a sigh. like in relief.

“you look well.”

“you don’t.”

he just nods, eyes scanning over your body. you could never really phase him. if anything, he’s more surprised you’re this composed after all this time of no contact.

you cock an eyebrow when he meets your gaze again, as if he wasn’t just checking you out.

”what? forget what’s underneath?”

another sigh. this one’s in annoyance. “let’s go.”

he shifts to begin walking, but you don’t budge. you watch him click his teeth then glance around— coast clear— before he leads you by the hand.

you almost forgot how much you hated being treated like some dirty secret.

you snatch your arm back, but you keep walking with him. he almost pauses in his tracks to make sure you’re still following.

“how have you been?”

his politeness offended you. how he can act like he cares after dropping off the face of the earth.

you roll your eyes. where to start?

you toss over the idea of dropping the bombshell that was the boy whose bed you just came from, but you scrap it. probably shouldn’t piss him off this early into your long-awaited night together.

“i think you owe me your answer to that first.”

you watch as he runs a hand through his hair with a sigh, and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. it dawned on you just how much you missed looking at him. that sexy, punchable face.

you’re going to need a cigarette.

“it will bore you,” he starts. he’s chosen his words carefully. “all work.”

“and what, no play?” you sneer. half of you wants to know if he’d been getting busy with anyone else.

you rummage through your bag and stick a cigarette between your lips. this catches his eye. as you reach back in and pull out your lighter, you both stop on the pavement as he grabs your forearm.

“you smoke now?”

he’s shocked. as if he has a right to be concerned for your health. it boils your blood.

you just scoff. “i can do that. i’m old enough, in case you’ve forgotten.”

sangwoo’s jaw hardens. it always ticked him off when you brought attention to your age.

his eyes soften as he composes himself again. “you should be taking care of yourself.”

you swat his hand away from you, bringing the lighter to the tip of the cigarette. he exhales gruffly in disapproval, but you roll your eyes.

“what do you care?” you flick the lighter on. “not like you’re around to see.”

“i shouldn’t have to be.” he asserts.

ugh. was he trying to fuck you, or raise you?

sangwoo’s still watching you as you take a slow drag. you humour him and hold his stare. in the pools of his irises, you spot a tinge of regret.

does he feel responsible for you? so he should.

you make a show of pinching the cigarette, puckering your lips around it. his eyes are trained on your mouth.

in return, you blow the smoke into his face.

sangwoo snatches your wrist with a hard grip, and you verbally wince in pain. he sternly states your name— as if you’re a kid in trouble.

“i’m serious. are you hearing me?”

“oh my goddd. okay, dad.”

his whole boy tensed. that was a low blow.

sangwoo knew all about your situation. in fact, he was the closest semblance to a father in your youth.

it’s what made the whole bloody affair all the more wrong. you never gave what you had with him a name— if neither of you said it out loud, then maybe the gross reality of it didn’t exist. so that was the last thing you should be calling him.

you were addicted to acting on bad ideas concerning sangwoo, though.

”don’t call me that.” he grits.

“you may as well be.”

his eyes widen at that, and you feel your blood buzzing. the levies had broke— your confusion and resentment from the past year was finally flooding back to you.

you remember how angry you’d been that he was actually gone this time. how he wasn’t around to take care of you; to lecture you or to guide you like he always did. you’ve been so lost. and so fucking angry.

you tch, “you leave enough to be him—”

you gasp as his free hand snatches your jaw, fingers caving into your cheeks. the cigarette falls onto the concrete, and sangwoo swiftly crushes it under his shoe sole. your heart was drumming against your chest.

“is this how you’re going to be?”

sangwoo’s nails dig in a little. you whine under his harsh grip, and you catch an almost imperceptible twitch of his lip.

“huh? will you start to behave?”

you scowl. but he won’t let up. you’d struck a nerve he’d intentionally hidden away.

you gulp with a nod. he lets go, and the crescent moons he’d left on your skin were stinging.

sangwoo straightens his blazer with a deep exhale. he watches your fingers graze over his nails’ indents, and he scowls to himself.

“i’m sorry.” he utters. “i should have kept my composure.”

tears prickled the corner of your vision. he’s sorry? only now he’s sorry? what about the last year? what about when he fucking left you in the dust?

“where were you, sangwoo?”

against your will, your voice is trembling. he notices, and he huffs, frustrated with himself. he doesn’t want to make you cry.

“don’t you know how long it’s been?”

“i know.”

“then why?” you exclaim. you’d been waiting to scream that word at him after it’d been playing on loop in your head for a year. “why would you come back now??”

you can tell there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes he’s not saying. something he could tell you to explain it all. but for whatever reason, he isn’t. it pisses you the fuck off.

but you just keel over with a sob. sangwoo rushes to close the gap between your bodies as he envelopes you in his arms. he has a gentle hand cradling your head, and you bury your face into his blazer— staining it with tears.

you shudder as you cry, and he just holds you. like he hasn’t been able to in his absence. like you’ve wanted him to.

you really did miss him.

“you always do this,” you choke out. sangwoo responds by placing a tender kiss to your temple. “i’m tired.”

tired of missing you. tired of waiting on you. tired of trying to move on. tired of failing to.

“i know.”

there’s a silence as he leaves a patch of kisses on your hair. his thumb softly caressed the skin of your cheek.

you tilted your head to meet his gaze. you saw his adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed, taking in the tears spilling over your cheeks.

in the bitter cold, your shared breaths mixed into fog. you became aware of how the warmth of his body pressed into yours.

you couldn’t take it anymore.

you crash your lips onto sangwoo’s. he jolts at the sudden movement, sending his glasses careening down his nose.

he doesn’t kiss you back. after a beat, you pull away and frown. you open your mouth to berate him— but he silences you with his lips on yours.

you still fit together perfectly. your hands landed on his neck, his on the small of your back. you were both as eager as each other, and he wasted no time sliding his tongue into your mouth.

suddenly you were burning up. you grabbed hold of his jacket lapel, pulling him in even further, and he responded by kissing you with such force your head craned back. that elicited a mewl from you. sangwoo sighed, and you swore you felt the slightest buck of his hips before he restrained himself.

it was all so natural. and so very wrong.

you pull your mouth from his with a pant. there was a line of saliva connecting your lips from just how sloppy the kisses were.

you wipe your mouth. “i have to tell you something.”

he’s eyeing you curiously as you continue, a tinge of worry on his face.

“i’ve been seeing this boy,”

you pause. sangwoo’s expression is unflinching. he doesn’t seem surprised— like he’s already come to this conclusion on his own and you’ve just confirmed it.

full disclosure, you hadn’t exactly committed to the other guy. he was madly in love, obsessed like how you wished sangwoo was. but sangwoo had marked you early: now you couldn’t settle for any love that wasn’t his.

but you were alone for a year. and this guy was here, and he wanted you and he would stay.

you swallow thickly. you don’t want to say it. but you do.

“he proposed to me yesterday.”

his gaze flicks to the ground as he forces out a nod. he pushes his glasses up his nose in thought.

he raises his head as he asks bluntly, “what did you say?”

your mind imagines how he’s back home in his bed, waiting on you to walk through the door. your stomach lurched.

“that i had to think about it.”

he exhales gruffly. you feel your face twist in annoyance. was he.. disappointed?

“what should i have said, huh? if i said yes, i wouldn’t be here.”

“that would have been for your own good.”

in a second of shocked silence, a fire cracks alive inside of you.

you fist his shirt collar, snatching his face towards your level.

“then what the fuck am i doing? what have we been doing,” you frown, your voice suddenly dropping to a whisper. “—all these years?”

he says your name as a warning.

“no. if you want me gone, then why the fuck did you call me?”

“i didn’t say i want that—”

“then why won’t you just stay—?”

“you’re young!”

you jump at the raise of his voice. he steadies himself with an exhale.

he brings a reassuring hand to your one on his lapel, intertwining his fingers with yours. you could cry on the spot.

he repeats your name softly. “you haven’t lived enough. you need to see the world, explore the possibilities— not settle for the first man you know.”

if you’d sat in a barrel a little longer, then maybe you’d be aged enough for him. but you were ripe. far too sour. it repulsed him to crave your taste when it hadn’t even fully matured.

“do you not want me anymore?”

your voice is so hushed, the words barely exist. you’d been wondering why he fully disappeared this time, if maybe he found someone else in america.

“i do want you.” his hand comes to cup your chin. he chuckles, “but i’m old, and i shouldn’t.”

you had been so full of youth, and he selfishly siphoned it. sangwoo started distancing himself in the first place so you’d let go of him— but you never did.

it’d been years of back and forth, push and pull. with you and with the dilemma in himself.

truthfully, he didn’t want to see you with another man. sangwoo loved you more than anything— the only exception being his shame.

“then why..”

he smothers you in a kiss because he knows what you’re going to say.

if it’s so wrong, then why did he take you in that night this all began?

you’d known sangwoo since you were little: your mothers worked late nights together at the store, so he was often looking after you when he had the time to spare between his already busy work schedule.

you didn’t have a man of the house after all, and sangwoo was a smart, caring substitute. he was your first crush before you even knew what the word meant.

last you heard he was off to the united states for business. until you ran into him in some shitty family mart.

sangwoo found you as a mess. your face was puffed, your eyes were bloodshot, mascara streaks down to your chin. it took him a moment to recognise you, and he was very taken aback once he did— obviously since you had grown alot, but because of the state you were in.

there’d been some conflict in your friend group, a boy played with your feelings, something or rather. those details have long since been forgotten to you now. you were heartbroken and alone and his heart just panged at the sight of you so distraught.

he couldn’t let you walk home alone like this.

he’s taken care of you since you were young. he tells himself it means nothing, that it’s not wrong.

but then back at his place, you’re cracking open bottle after bottle. you’re swaying in your seat and handsy with him and he’s intoxicated enough not to resist.

shit’s been so intense with acquisitions and stocks and all, and looking at your pretty face right now makes him forget all about it. he had a fondness for you as a girl, and that still holds now you’re a woman.

he’s not doing anything, but he’s not telling you to stop either. he must be drunker than you. no harm done then, right?

but then the floodgates opened. you’re sobbing, asking him what’s wrong with you. you practically beg for a sign that you’re worthy of someone wanting you. so he shows you, with a chaste kiss to the lips.

that’s all it was meant to be. you’re of age, so it’s not wrong— technically. you’re beautiful and he tells you that. of course men would want you.

but then you kiss him again. and again. and one thing leads to another.

that morning hangover slammed him twice as hard with the burden of what he’d done to you. you trusted him. your mother trusted him. and like some slimy old pervert, he took you back to his house and—

the thought had him retching.

he didn’t think himself a man who’d do such a thing. it was meant to be a moment of weakness, and there was a silent agreement that neither of you would speak it into existence.

but he never expected it to come this far.

this— being how sangwoo’s lips were parting yours with a bruising force. his tongue delved into your mouth with fervour: a hot contrast to the chill air nipping at your face.

you jumped when he squeezed at your ass, simultaneously pressing your body further into his. all restraint was gone. under that neat get-up of his, there was a starved man. and his hands were grabbing at every bump of your body.

he finally settled with both hands cupping your tits through your clothing. he broke the kiss to flick his gaze to your chest, muttering a curse before he latched his open mouth on your neck.

you jolted at the sudden heat, shivering in sangwoo’s grasp as he suckled at your skin—sensitive from the goosebumps caused by the cold.

your head was spinning. sangwoo was fucking starving, almost panting as he left a trail of wet kisses along your clavicle. your own shaky breaths fogged in the air. you steadied yourself with a hand buried into his hair.

he pressed his thumb down on the fabric and swiped over your nipple. you whine, and his groan in response is like a spotlight on the bulge digging into you.

as horny as you are— you chuckle. sangwoo looks dismayed.

“oh, nothing. i’m just surprised you can still get it up,”

he snatches your hand and wedges it down between your bodies, squeezing your palm over his erection through his pants. you gasp.

“are you done?” his tone is almost mocking. he’s out of patience now that he’s this hard.

in defiance, you rub your hand over him. he hisses before stopping you by the wrist. even through the slacks, you had felt his dick pulse at your touch.

“enough.”

he’s serious now, so you surrender.

but not before you gaze up at him through half-lidded eyes, batting your lashes as you softly take the skin of your lip between your teeth. sangwoo watched with bated breath.

he practically growls as he shoves your mouths back together.

the flickering of the streetlight overhead was a reminder of your whereabouts. as sangwoo pulls away, he darts his head around to check for an audience. none, fortunately for him.

you cross your arms. he adjusts his glasses and fixes up his blazer, yet leaves his hair a ruffled mop. it makes you snort.

you catch his lip curl into a smile, before he sighs.

“let’s keep walking. it’s not far from here.”

ah yes, his hotel room.

he always booked top dollar. over the years as he’d return home to visit, you’d stay the week at his suite imagining yourself as a spoiled stay-at-home wife.

you told him about these daydreams, and much to his amusement. sangwoo found it endearing— he even adorned you with jewellery to humour the idea.

sangwoo gently takes you by the hand. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, letting the featherlight touch of his fingers linger on your cheek.

you can’t help yourself to press a quick peck to his lips. and as you pull away, there’s a small smile on his face.

there’s a certain energy hanging in the air as you both walked the pavement, all the way to door of his suite. neither of you fill the silence.

tonight might be the end of your life tangled with sangwoo— or the beginning of a new one. you didn’t know which. maybe he didn’t either.

he’s gentle as he leads you by the hand to sit at the edge of the bed. he shrugs off his blazer. impatient, you hook a finger around his belt loop and pull him to stand between your legs.

your hands glide over the expanse of his thighs, and he cups your face in kind.

“you’re so gorgeous,” he mutters. “i don’t tell you that nearly enough.”

you weren’t bitter anymore. you just wanted him to stay this time. but in the back of your mind, you know he’s only laid himself bare tonight because he isn’t coming back.

you can’t linger on that though. not when he’s here, in front of you now, holding you like you’re the most precious girl in the world.

”can you show me?”

without further question, his hands are on both sides of your neck as his lips come crashing down to yours. it’s almost feral, the way he pushes you down against the sheets, hiking a knee to part your legs. he fills that gap with his own pelvis on yours.

clothes weren’t even off yet— still you were both panting from the rush of the kisses. his tongue explored your mouth like he was tasting every last bit of you. his eagerness had you buzzing.

it didn’t take much longer for him to practically rip off your bottoms, wasting no time slipping a hand under your panties. he cursed against your lips when he felt how slick you were already.

you crumpled his button-up in a fist, trembling as he glided his fingers over your cunt.

you weren’t the type to beg, but you were too impatient. sangwoo always takes his time to savour it or whatever. but you’ve had a years worth without being fucked like how he does it.

“sangwoo,” you drawl in a breathy moan. his lips part with a pant at that. “please, just—”

you yelp when he spreads you open with two of his thick fingers. sangwoo latches his mouth to your nape. you hear his heavy breathing at your ear as he repeats curling his fingers inside of you, whimpers spilling shamelessly from your mouth.

“i want you, please,”

your dignity was gone. you could feel how bad he wants it too, with how his boner was rutting into your thigh, how he was sucking hickeys onto your neck to conceal his own grunts.

you take matters into your own hands, quite literally reaching down to fumble for his dick. his hand pulls out at that. you whine.

“patience, sweetheart.” his lips curl into a smirk. cocky ass.

“just fuck me already, you old man.”

he hisses as he pins both your wrists down in one hand. the other slides three of his fingers back into you. you cry out as he sets a ruthless pace, angled to hit your sweet spot each time.

you felt a wet spot on your bare thigh— and realise it’s his tip leaking through his pants. between your moans, you huff a laugh. he gazes at you unimpressed, still pissed from the age comment.

he only hates it so much because it gets him hot.

you felt your stomach tightening, but you force yourself to teeter on the edge of bliss. you didn’t want him to unravel you now, not before he’s in you.

“fuck— fuck me,” you stammer out, lashes fluttering as you pulsed on the fringes of orgasm.

he hums as if he needs to think about it.

“sangwoo, i’m gonna—”

“go ahead, pretty girl.”

he lifts his thumb to rub circles around your clit while his fingers keep pistoning in and out of you. your whole body jolts as you cry out, a mix of moans and cusses as you cum. he draws you out as long as he can, and you writhe against his grip on your wrists.

“i fucking hate you.” you spit.

the sound of his zipper makes your eyes widen, and he snickers.

“thought you wanted this old man?”

he lets go of your wrists, but catches you again as you raise a hand to slap him.

you hated that you wanted him all the time. and he hated himself the same. you just wish you knew how you were supposed to live without that.

his dick slaps your belly as he pulls down his boxers and pants. you gulp at just how hard he was, how his tip had a string of pre-cum connected to your stomach.

“so beautiful.” he hooked his arms under your knees to pull you closer, and you gasped as his tip prodded at you.

you whined his name again when he dragged himself over your entrance. he chuckled, swinging your legs over his shoulders.

“you’ve earned it.”

your moans overlapped each other’s as sangwoo buried himself to the hilt. he paused for a beat, dick twitching inside of you.

“haven’t you—?”

“god, no— fuck..” he snapped his hips for a quick thrust. you both shudder. “you’re the only..”

his eyes squeeze shut with a groan as you shift your own hips to slide up on him.

he wraps a hand around your neck, biting his lip as he starts really fucking you. his grip is enough to make you hazy.

your head lolled back into the mattress as he pounded you like a crazed man. like it’d be the last time he ever could.

“how can you expect— fffuck, expect me to be with anyone else?”

the pad of his thumb slides onto your tongue.

“don’t say that,” he pants.

you close your lips around him to suck, and he mutters a curse as his hips pick up the pace.

sangwoo huffs out your name needily, removing his thumb to kiss you. you moan against each other’s lips as you tremble through a second orgasm. he pulls out shortly after, shooting ropes of cum onto the bedsheets.

he was out of risks to take.

he’s careful as he lifts you into his arms and takes you both to the bath.

you missed being coddled. you missed him, being so.. fatherly.

he scrubbed your skin, he brushed your hair. he kissed your forehead as he tucked you in. he held you close as he fell asleep, and you kept your eyes peeled for as long as you could manage. you knew when you opened them in the morning, he’d be gone.

it was only a few days later that you heard about sangwoo after waking to a cold bed in the hotel.

your mother told you that he was in hot water. he was off the map while there was a warrant out for his arrest— lots of debt and fraud shit. she didn’t believe it. you couldn’t either.

that night, you laid beside your now fiancee in bed. he heard the news, but he thinks it’s just old lady gossip. he’d never guess how deep under your skin you were screaming. sangwoo wasn’t just some guy who babysat you, he was your first everything. and your fiancee could never know that.

your turned your face into the pillow to muffle your sobs as he slept.

[foxonrollerskates]

The Mutual Awards Masterpost

Hello everybody! I have decided to organize a little event for this spring :]

What is this?

Think of it like a little award show to celebrate our friends.

How will this work?

For the entire month of March I will be accepting Nominees for every category via asks, on April 1st I will release the comprehensive list of every Nominee. The first week of April will be reserved for Nominees to run their campaign(please tag it as #mutuals awards propaganda so I can find it!). April 8th to 30th will be for voting, each poll will last for 7 days. If the number of nominations exceeds the poll limit the bracket will be split up and the winners will be pit against each other for the ultimate winner. May 1st I will make a post announcing the winners for each category.

Who can participate?

Any of my mutuals, or mutuals in law! (aka, we are both mutuals with the same person, but we aren't mutuals with each other)

Who can I nominate?

You can nominate any of your mutuals to any category via ask. You can also nominate yourself to any category. I(the host) can be nominated as well. When you do, drop a few reasons for the nomination too. Some categories will be 18+, so make sure those you are nominating are 18 or older please! If you are nominated and wish to nor participate, dm me to get removed from the bracket.

Can I nominate more than one person?

Yep! You have an unlimited number of nominations, and the same person can be nominated for multiple categories. However, if you are going to nominate the same person for different categories, do so in separate asks please! Nominating two different people for the same category in the same ask is ok though(this is for organization purposes).

I think that's all my bases covered, so onto the categories!

Who puts the best og posts on the dash that DEFINETLY don't deserve to be 3 note flops bbg keep your head up

Best Poster

Best Reblogger

Who reblogs the funniest posts? The fanart that keeps you up at night? The hottest takes?

Most Evil

Who's the bastard twirling their mustache as their finger hoovers over the reblog button? Who's the motherfucker that always calls you out in the most out of pocket ways? Who keeps putting tHAT FUCKING POST ON YOUR DASH-

Biggest Furry

Which fucker on the dash is using OwO unironically? Who wags their tail the hardest and scrolls through yiff art in public?

Horniest Mutual(18+)

Who's barking on main and making tumblr unusable in public?

Hottest Mutual(18+)

Who's got you all hot and bothered WAAAY to early in the morning?

Smartest Mutual

Who shocks you with their knowledge? Who's out here analyzing media like no one else? Who has the best takes?

Faggiest Gender

Who's gender is straight up ???????? Who makes you have to check their pronouns 1 billion times to make sure you aren't accidently misgendering them? Who can't be in a het relationship?

Most Chronically Online

Who's constantly online to the point its got you wondering if they ever sleep?

Best Writer

Who's the master of the pen? Who can use a single sentence to change your life?

Best Artist

Who constantly wows you with their skill? Who probably won't nominate themselves because they're too insecure?

Best OC's

Who made you obsessed with their characters and now you can never forgive them for doing your fav dirty like that?

Best Taste in Music

Who always has the best song recs? Who are you giving the aux cord to for a 12 hour drive? (if you are nominated for this category, please share your playlist or make one!)

Best Mutual

The most prestigious award, who is the best mutual you have? The one your dash wouldn't be the same without?

@'ing for reach! @pulim-v @sapphosdickandballs @illiteratesblog @flora-of-the-moon @oh-cramity-its-amity @masterofspite @sintogs @hybridcrows @aceofstars0 @negative-speedforce @wooftphr @gayoticbeing @fangirl0027 @verishere @kibabanana @localowlhousefanatic @prettypinkbubbless @fangirling-heart @small-jar @nilihim-him @sarostheghostcat @thousand-winters @risingscorchingsuns @newleechonlife @evermorecatra

[adamnablelittledevil]

I need more Brienne of Tarth on my dash. Please like/reblog/comment if you post content about her and I'll gladly follow you. Thanks. 😍💗

[lorebird]

In which Ford struggles so badly to relate to other people that he wonders if he’s really human at all. The more isolated he becomes, the harder it is to reconcile with his own humanity.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[sideblogdotjpeg]

have been thinking about professor sol even. professor bufo with no clearly discernable lesson plan. sol bufo ostensibly martial arts professor who spent two weeks running a yoga and meditation program and shows up to the next class with crochet hooks for everyone. professor bufo who is technically supposed to be assigning grades to students but hasnt given anyone less than an A because "i think they worked really hard and they did a great job :)" (referring to the ugliest and most malformed pot holder anyone has laid eyes upon in their life). professor bufo who is on his way to cluelessly kickstart the sexual awakening of about half the cohort of the academys new students. sol bufo adjunct professor who is gone half the year and his first class back is so immediately and easily baited into going into a long tangent about how cool his friends are. sol who is pretty sure hes easily the most useless professor on campus and almost cries when he sees his little desk overflowing with thank you notes at the end of the year. professor bufo absolutely fucking gloriously hot in the tightest little sweater vest because there were faculty complaints when he wore a crop top to class.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

wanna ask how you feel about the eridan bpd headcanon/theory(?? not sure what to call it!) you're so good at your character analysis and i'd love to see your outlook on it

Since I don't have a degree or any formal training in psychology, I feel deeply uncomfortable diagnosing characters. I've made an autism joke before but only because I'm on the spectrum. He's definitely traumatized and anxious, but I mean those as descriptors of his behavior rather than capital-D Diagnoses. I try to focus on those when I can - the cause and effect of cognition, self-image, and behavior - and those factors may very well match up with DSM criteria, but I try not to touch an actual diagnosis with a ten foot pole unless the author has explicitly stated that X character has Y condition.

[deoidesign]

I’m a trans man that recently got diagnosed with hyper mobile eds, so now seeing Steve makes me extra happy, because cool disabled ftm rep. Thanks for making the radical dude bro, he’s funky.

same disability (waving hand emoji)

Always extremely fulfilling to know my work makes people happy in some small way, it means a lot. Thank you for sharing with me

[frostheria]

Just making a general post real quick in response to an ask.

When I say I'm anti-ai I mean I'm against any sort of AI that steals from others or would otherwise be used to put people out of a job. I don't feel like having an elaborate conversation about the positives and negatives of AI and all that, so I'll state this as plainly as possible.

I don't like AI art. I don't like AI voice impersonations. I don't like any sort of AI that has to steal stuff from people without their consent in order to function. That is literally it.

I'm not against ALL AI. I don't think people that are okay with AI in general should be burned at the stake or something. I'm just an artist and writer that doesn't like AI being used in CREATIVE SPACES. That's it.

I didn't think I would have to clarify this but, here you go, for anyone that was bothered.

[misc-catgirl-anatomy]

ao3's tagging system has me so spoiled bc i go basically anywhere else (like tunglr) and it's like you can execute a burnt-dogshit-quality search along a single term

so i'm sitting over here dying from lack of good f/f omegaverse stuff because nobody tags shit consistently and i can only search via tag and the ''omegaverse'' tag is mostly m/m by volume which is fine there's a market for that but it's not what i wanna read

i'd be interested to read more original (ie non-fanfic) f/f AOB but it's hard to find so.... i don't.

[je-suis-problematique]

Heyo fellow DID havers and systems in general!

Hello hello and welcome and hi. This blog has been up for A While now but we never really had the balls to interact with fellow systems before aaaand long story short I'm changing that now (I blame the medicine that I'm currently on because I am more than a little bit Zooted, LMAO). Basically if you're a DID-centric blog or just someone who's plural do you mind interacting with this post and maybe possibly also sliding into our DMs? We've been DYING to meet other systems and at least TRY to make some new friends. Some information about us/our blog just so there won't be any misunderstandings:

Please read our pinned post before interacting. If we're not your cup of tea we don't care that you block us and move on, we just wanted to be completely open and honest about ourselves and some of our stances before trying to befriend other people. No hard feelings there!

We prefer not to interact with minors for personal reasons, it just makes us extremely uncomfortable. Nothing against you if you're a minor of course, it's just a personal preference like I said. Sorry!

We post extremely dark themes on our blog and most of it is just our own way to process our own trauma but we understand that it can be a deal-breaker for some. Sorry again!

I know it's already listed on our pinned post but we're EXTREMELY fictive-heavy and we also date internally, if either of those things gives you the ick then we'd rather you didn't interact with us at all. We're okay with being blocked without prior interaction, you do what you need to do to keep yourself safe, yeah? Again, no hard feelings there!

We sometimes post extremely personal shit about sensitive topics OR we can go into graphic detail about certain subjects, please keep that in mind.

Our blog is our own and we post what we feel like posting regardless of whether or not it can be considered cringe. If our personal experiences are cringe to you then I'd rather we didn't interact in the first place (unless you don't mind the cringe and then welcome aboard the cringe ship LMAO).

We are looking specifically for professionally diagnosed DID systems OR people who are in the questioning phase. No need to recite the DSM-V to us we know it by heart already LOL, all we ask for is that you subscribe to the idea that DID is and always has been borne of severe trauma and that natural systems are a phenomenon that is questionable at best. Every system is different but there is a list of basic criteria one must fit into to be diagnosed as plural. LARPing as your favorite characters doesn't count.

If we end up vibing with each other well then you're absolutely free to ask for our personal Discord! We'd love to have more friends we could talk to who understand the struggles of living with DID and all of its complexities and co-morbid disorders. We've been feeling incredibly isolated as of late and wanted to expand our social circle with people we can relate to and vice versa. I promise we don't bite! Most of us are really friendly or at least know when to tone down on the cynicism, haha.

Looking forward to meeting you all!❤️

– Kovacs

[elegyofthemoon]

In the cool, plush core of the moon sleeps a mouse as we speak, dreaming of a world lush and green, then golden and undulating, then chopping and churning, a world of many surfaces with skies of many moods.

When it awakes, it will poke its tiny head out of a crater and bask in your glow as it does every morning. Here, all is still and silent. On that sparkling planet in the deep black distance, the sun seems capricious. But the mouse lives in the abyss of the body and therefore with a unique perspective on its essence. The mouse sees what other life does not see.

One needn't worry about unbecoming for the sake of containing a sun. Clouds may blanket the atmosphere of a planet, but still there burns a sun. The spots on the sun's surface may grow and shrink and shift, but still there it burns. And if one decides to cool it down like a waning flame or expand it in a cataclysmic supernova, still there it burns, and one has the right to revoke the state of their existence and become new.

Because perhaps the truth is you are not the sun--not alone--but it is rather a part of you. Your body is the solar system, each planet a world within the body, and each knows this glow in different ways. Some are nurtured by its warmth, others by its distance. Regardless of the sun's changes, they stay the course encircling it.

The universe cannot be held back, harnessed, fully comprehended. It pulls at the seams of solar systems as it pulls on its own seams. In that unstoppable shifting, we stumble. Sometimes it feels like our love and light slips from our fingers, shattering irrevocably in our falls. But what makes us cannot be seperated from us, even in times where our essence is obscured.

There is always another life to appreciate your life, no matter what happens. And in the least, there is always a little mouse in you that understands you in telescopic clarity and offers forgiveness for every change--no matter what, right into the end of time.

❤

[buttercuparry]

Genocide flattens every discussion. There are no new conversations to be had about the destruction, death and cruelty. After more than a year, there is nothing left to be said about various media houses, corporations and international bodies of law aiding and abetting all that has been happening in Gaza, either. It is the banality of evil, it is colonialism. However even in this atrociously banal circumstance, I do think what still is a continued point of hope for Gazans and what still pushes so many of them to reach out to the world, is the support people around the globe have shown and still continue to show. Which is why I am here on behalf of the Shehab family ( @fahedshehab-new ) and requesting  you to help them survive through this winter. This won't take much of your time so please read: 

Fahed is currently supporting 13 family members in total- his own family and that of his sister’s.

He has to look after 8 children now, with the youngest being his son Yayha who is barely having anything to eat because the price of baby milk  is exorbitantly high in Gaza. 

The genocide has taken a toll on Fahed’s daughters. Sahar and Dana spent a whole year under the threat of bombs and right now instead of getting to be teenagers, they ask their father if they will survive. They have even said they don't want to live if they lose someone. 

The family right now immediately needs clothes to keep them warm throughout winter. Fahed’s family is from the north and has been displaced several times before they came south. Displacement is dangerous and a silent killer because often essential items are lost and cannot be replaced in time. 

Please consider that the weather has already turned colder around the world and that which is only mildly uncomfortable to us, presents a dire situation for Gazans. The families don't have a shelter and there is no way for tents to adequately protect from cold winds and rain. So right now the immediate need is for warm clothes and it can cost upto $400 per person. With THIRTEEN PEOPLE to take care of Fahed immediately needs to raise at least 5k to buy the required apparels. So please boost and donate. 

Currently at $66,248. He needs to reach $71,248. Please help however you can. 

Vetting link

Please remember that every donation, even if it is 5 dollars, is a ray of hope for the families who have lost everything.

Tagging for reach 🙏🏽

@brutaliakhoa @appsa @malcriada @aces-and-angels @three-croissants

@schoolhater @briarhips @timetravellingkitty @tiredguyswag @neptunerings

@brokenbackmountain @transmutationisms @fuckgimp @jezior0

@imjustheretotrytohelp @sunflowersmoths @khanger @autisticmudkip @zigcarnivorous

@maaszeltov @contra-file @venus-is-in-bloom @fading-event-608 @lesbianmaxevans

@girlinafairytale @heliopixels @celadonwanderer @paparoach @furiousfinnstan

@forgetfulrecord @flyskyhigh09 @aflamethatneverdies @thedigitalbard @lesbincineroar

@noble-kale @maoistyuri @lamngen @thatsonehellofabird @roadimusprime

@a-shade-of-blue @ramshackledtrickster @C-u-ckoo-4-40k @galacticmermaid @heydreamchild

[mathmusicreading]

Blog(ger) Shift

I am, so weird and bad about original posting and about reblogging and about saving things on Tumblr and that's why my blog has been mostly inactive or the lurking consumer type. But I don't want my fears about putting myself out there, being seen and known, articulating myself well vs. having been told my whole life I'm too wordy and opinionated vs. not managing to articulate myself well enough to justify being verbose and passionate, etc. to continue to control me so much.

So for my new specific-interest sideblog that I'm not locking, I hope it being themed will help me with making more original posts and reblogging, and I'm publicizing that here to push myself and also welcome interaction.

RIP to my other public specific-interest sideblog and the fandom sideblog I took over for someone that I didn't take further and to my private sideblogs that were meant to make me reblog and save and say stuff because they would be personal and just for me. I still would like to make those happen and reblogging and posting things that matter to me here, and oh my heart for the content ideas I haven't been working on, but they're pipedreams with how I'm (not) managing my life and I keep kicking those cans down the road.

To the person who I developed a real relationship with as a beta but who by now I probably count as having disappeared on with how long it's been and my not coming back to explicitly say I still can't help and don't know when I can, I am so sorry. I'm being a coward languishing in hoping I can tell you soon that I can get back into beta-ing for you and talking, but that's turned into me not talking to you because I'm waiting to be able to say something positive. Hopefully my vaguing here can help push me into talking to you, or at least this is here for you to read if you happen to see it; and I want you to know you absolutely can talk to me, can call me out, and if you're so gracious as to still want to be friends with me and just chat despite my dropping being your beta, I'm here for you and still want to be your friend even if I don't know if I'll have the spoons to be a good one and I know my saying that preemptively isn't apology or justification enough.

Honest assessment, I'm going to curse and say my living situation and work have both become even more of a shitshow, and with those things in mind I can't begin to imagine handling a real project until basically literally a year from now.

Which segues back into the main topic of this post. My goal isn't to have my new sideblog be like an active mainblog nor to abandon this blog—people interested in that blog can and should still interact with me here given how primary vs. secondary blogs on Tumblr work, and in terms of using that blog to help make me be a better Tumblr user, I think I should make certain original posts here and reblog them there as opposed to them being original there. With my mental-emotional and time resources, I want that blog to be "active" for a given definition of active, but really I think I should see my objective as "clear out tabs and likes and photos and lists and notes and drafts, etc. from the last four months" by saving stuff there, as opposed to my goal being the original posts I want to make there, and actually my long-term goal should be to use that momentum to do the same for older digital and physical storage that hasn't been lost or stolen. In my failure to be an interesting person, do I at least manage to be fascinating as a basket-case? Ha. But, also, as expressed above the Read More, the exercise of my danmei/Chinese sideblog is supposed to be a foray into me allowing myself to be an interesting person.