#How rare and beautiful it is that we even exist

[pkmatrix]

I realized I should probably explain more than just leaving a somewhat passive-aggressive comment (for which I apologize @benkaben, I just get tired hearing this same sentiment over and over).

(I also apologize for the absolute wall of text I'm about to barf here...)

Hollywood has always thrived on sequels and remakes, this is true going all the way back to the 1910s. The reason why people have noticed and are getting annoyed in the last 25 years is because around that time Hollywood shifted and changed some of the underlying assumptions about movies and, from the business side, what they were doing.

Specifically: they shifted from building movies around Movie Stars to building movies around Intellectual Property.

While IP-based movies and franchises have been around since the beginning, since Florence Lawrence blew up as the first "Movie Star" at Biograph Studios in 1908 most Studio movies have been built around the idea of the "Star" - an person (actor, writer, director, etc.) who's face and name is the true draw. Movies projects were often greenlit specifically as vehicles for the Star, and its the Star that people are coming to see. You had plenty of variety there: some Stars attracted people simply because they were beautiful people, some because they were talented actors, some because they were talented Directors or storytellers, etc. This is why, for instance, we talk about the classic Disney films as specifically Walt Disney films because Walt was the Star those movies were built around. The actual content of the movies - the story, the characters, the intellectual property, etc. - was kinda an after-thought much of the time?

For the most part, IP-based movies were looked at by studios as being generally low-brow, low-money, B content. Have you ever looked up how many Tarzan movies, Zorro movies, or Lassie movies they made back in the day? This is also why big studio sequels were rare prior to The Godfather Part II, because people were coming to see the STARS not the characters.

IP-based franchises during the 20th Century gained traction largely when they were linked to a Star who kept returning to play the part: Boris Karloff as the Monster in the Frankenstein series, William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles in The Thin Man series, Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes in Universal's series, Sean Connery as James Bond, Arnold Schwarzeneggar as The Terminator, Sylvester Stallone as Rocky Balboa, etc.. The closest things to exceptions I can think of are the Looney Tunes characters and Godzilla, where the IP itself was the Star.

Another thing I don't think people may realize is how movie fandom change dramatically around the turn of the millennium.

Modern fandom, particularly online, is descended from Star Trek, Star Wars, Superhero Comics, Doctor Who, and The X-Files. But during the 20th Century that sort of fandom was seen as immature nerds, weird, niche, strange, and widely looked down upon. Movie studios hardly acknowledged that such fans even existed of their IP. Mainstream fandom, for the most part, was more similar to those Celebrity Gossip shows like TRL - it was fandom of STARS and celebrity worship, not of actual movies. People who were interested in movies themselves to that degree were often seen as weirdos and that was shunned. What was more accepted mainstream was fandom of books, and people would discuss the stories and characters of novels and novel series in ways we're much more familiar with.

This changed at the turn of the millennium thanks to The Phantom Menace, Harry Potter, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The success of those three opened the eyes of Hollywood to the potential of building their business around Intellectual Properties rather than Movie Stars, and made them realize that IP fans were an untapped well of money. Up until that point the studios had largely tried to pretend these people didn't exist, but these three movies coming in short succession to huge success made them realize "Wait...the nerds have money? If we cater to them specifically, we could make millions!"

They made billions.

So, you see what happened, right? by a decade later Hollywood had shifted all their focus: no longer were they building movies around Movie Stars, they were building them around IP Franchises - especially long established ones with large pre-existing audiences. When movies were built around Movie Stars you had no motivation to do the same things over and over - the purpose of remakes and sequels in that era was to provide vehicles for Stars, the remake giving a new Star a chance to fill an old Star's shoes and the sequel to provide a second chance at making money on a Star's successful hit. But in our world where everything is built around IP, the purpose is milking fandom for money by appealing to nostalgia and the niche interests of the fandom (or, at least what the studio is interpreting as the interests of the fandom, or attempts to steer the fandom's interest in a direction they think will be more exploitable).

And that's where we are now. That's why I just sigh and get a little irritated when I see posts lamenting this, because I feel people fail to realize 1) that Hollywood has always been like this, and 2) these underlying business strategies that motivate and inform every movie being greenlit.

"What do you want from a remake" I DON'T WANT THEM. I DON'T WANT ANOTHER SOULLESS NOSTALGIA-FILLED CASH-GRAB. I DON'T WANT ANY OF THEM. I DON'T WANT ADAPTATIONS THAT KILL THE ORIGINAL MESSAGE OF THE THING THEY WERE BASED UPON NEITHER THE SHOT-BY-SHOT DESATURATED RECREATIONS. I WANT ORIGINAL STORIES!!! NOT REMAKES OF MOVIES THAT AIN'T EVEN 30 YEARS OLD!!!​AAGGGGGHHH

[formulafanfics13]

The First Time We Fell - KA12 & OB87 🔥

Masterlist

The rain had started just after midnight.

It painted soft trails across the windows of the hotel suite, hazing the Monaco skyline into a blur of golden lights and distant sirens. Inside, the air was still warm from the day — bodies tangled in cotton sheets, the remains of takeaway boxes forgotten on the coffee table, laughter still lingering in the corners of the room like perfume.

It had been just the three of you all weekend. A rare off-week. No races, no training, no press. Just quiet time. Real time. And it had felt good, so good, to just exist like this again. Like the world didn't know who you were. Like it didn't matter.

Ollie had claimed the middle of the bed. Kimi had groaned but let him. You hadn't even fought it. You knew how this went, Ollie always sprawled, Kimi always complained, you always gave in. You'd been like this for years. Nothing about this moment felt unusual.

Except it did. It did. Because Ollie had his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly tracing soft shapes into your skin. And Kimi, quiet, serious Kimi, had been watching it happen. Eyes dark, mouth slightly open, like he couldn't believe it either. Like maybe something was shifting.

The silence was too long to ignore. You looked at Ollie. "You alright?" He nodded. But didn't stop touching you.

You looked at Kimi. "You?"

His voice was hoarse. "Yeah."

More silence. More warmth. More of Ollie's fingers pressing into your skin like he didn't know where to go next.

"Kiss me," you whispered, unsure who you meant.

It didn't matter. Ollie was the first to move. He leaned in slowly, eyes flicking to yours as if asking for permission, you gave it with a tiny nod, and then his mouth was on yours, soft and clumsy and real. His lips tasted like the wine he shouldn't have had, and his hand moved up to cup your face like you were something fragile. Something his heart already knew.

You kissed him back just as softly. And when you broke apart, breath shallow, you turned your head and found Kimi still watching. His face was flushed. He looked like he might bolt.

"You okay?" you asked.

Kimi nodded once. And then he leaned in too. The kiss was different. More certain. More desperate. Like Kimi had been waiting years to do this and wasn't sure he'd ever get another shot. He kissed you like he needed it. Like he wanted to memorise it.

Ollie didn't interrupt. He just watched, lips parted, hand still on your thigh like an anchor.

When you pulled back, all three of you were panting. "This is real, right?" you asked, heart pounding.

Ollie smiled. "Yeah. It's real."

Kimi looked between you both, cheeks red. "Are we... are we doing this?"

You looked at him. Then at Ollie. Then back again. And then you whispered, "Only if we all want to."

There was a beat. Then Kimi said, "I do."

Ollie echoed it. "Me too."

And that was all it took. Hands started moving.

Slow at first, uncertain, like you were all learning a new language. Kimi's fingers slid up your arm, grazing your neck. Ollie's mouth pressed against your collarbone, so soft it almost tickled. You tilted your head back and let them touch you. Let them explore. Let them have you.

Clothes disappeared, one piece at a time. Shirts pulled over heads. Soft curses. Breathless laughs. A tangled mess of limbs and fabric. Your back hit the mattress again, and suddenly you were between them, Ollie to your left, Kimi to your right, both of them touching you like you were the centre of their universe. Like they were already in love with this. With you.

Ollie's hand moved first, skimming down your stomach and slipping between your legs. You gasped, hips twitching, but he kept his touch featherlight, soft circles, slow strokes. Just enough to build the ache.

Kimi's lips found your throat. Then your chest. His hand moved to your hip, gripping you gently, grounding you between them both.

"You're so beautiful," Ollie whispered, watching your face.

"You both are," you whispered back, voice wrecked.

And it was true. Ollie with his wild curls and kiss-bruised mouth. Kimi with his sharp jaw and flushed skin and those eyes that had always seen straight through you. You reached for them both.

Ollie kissed your lips. Kimi kissed your shoulder. You felt everything all at once.

And then "Can we..." Ollie started, breath catching. "Can we do this properly?"

You nodded. "Yes."

Kimi's voice was lower now. "You sure?"

You looked at both of them. "I've never been more sure of anything."

They moved carefully. Condoms. Soft touches. Gentle repositioning. Whispers and checks and slow kisses between every motion. You felt like you were floating. Kimi slid into you first. You cried out softly, hand gripping his bicep as he bottomed out. He was thick and warm and shaking with restraint. You'd never seen him like this, undone. His forehead pressed to yours as he started to move, slow and deep, eyes never leaving your face.

Ollie kissed your neck, your chest, your thighs. He held your hand the whole time, whispered your name like a prayer, told you how perfect you looked like this.

Kimi's rhythm was slow but intense. And then Ollie moved lower. His mouth found your clit as Kimi fucked you, his tongue soft, slow, completely in sync with Kimi's pace. It was too much. It was perfect. You didn't know who to beg for more, so you just begged them both. Please, please, please... You came with a soft scream, shaking between them, both boys holding you like you might fall apart.

And still, they didn't stop. Kimi kept moving, moaning your name as he buried his face in your neck, whispering je suis là, je suis là over and over like a chant. Ollie moved to kiss you again, tasting you on his lips, breathing so hard you could feel his chest shaking.

Then they switched. Carefully. Kimi pulled out, whispering how good you were, how much he loved you, how he'd never forget this. And Ollie slid in, slow and tentative, kissing your forehead as he bottomed out with a strangled moan.

"Holy fuck," he gasped. "You feel-" He couldn't even finish.

You were still stretched from Kimi, still dripping, still sensitive, and now Ollie was filling you, hips rolling in slow, desperate waves. His hand cupped your face, and he kissed you like you were oxygen. "I love you," he said, suddenly.

Kimi stilled beside you. Ollie didn't take it back. "I love you," he repeated, softer now. "I don't know when it started but I do."

You blinked. Then turned to Kimi. He nodded once, jaw clenched. "Me too."

Your eyes filled with tears. You wrapped your arms around both of them. And let yourself fall.

[curio-queries]

ARE YOU SURE?! ... AGAIN?

Okay y'all, I genuinely wasn't expecting to be making any sort of AYS post anytime soon but alas here we are. (Honestly, I should just never claim that I'm done with thjs, there's ALWAYS going to be more to discuss. This is the show that just keeps on giving.)

Hypothetical discussion about an upcoming season below the cut.

So, IF we're hypothesizing that another season is being filmed right now, there are a couple of logistical items to which we can pay attention to support this conclusion and learn more about the goals/engine behind this beautiful show.

Solo-Group schedule timeline

I think we can all easily say that one of the biggest points of uncertainty during the 'hiatus' was how they were going to logistically handle releasing content for 7 individual artists rather than one singular group. We just had no precedent set from HYBE before so the environment was rife with rumor and speculation. Now that we've successfully made it through the period of military enlistment, there is the unknown of how they're going to transition again. (In my opinion this has been less of a drama-inducing time because we've been reassured throughout the past 3 years and now there's the lovely distraction of having the members around but we absolutely weren't completely free of it-the Shakespearean levels of throwing-oneself-into-a-grave at the possible mention of solo tours has been astonishing)

Anyway, back to the point. HYBE doesn't have a lot of hard and fast rules they stick to regarding BTS's content.but one rule they do have is they RARELY come to the conclusion of a focus activity without letting us know about what's next. Remember the end of the PTD concerts and the announcement of Proof? I swear I could hear the screams of ARMY clear over here on the east coast!

So, right now, the next big event is Jin's tour. The last scheduled date is currently 9-10 AUG in Amsterdam. There's definitely room for some encore performances to be added but those usually overlap previously-announced projects. So, hypothetically, sometime around then, we'll be finding out what the next focus project will be for us.

There's no solid information out there right now but personally, I feel such gratitude to Jin specifically for the relative peace of this time period. Yes, HYBE would have ensured there was SOMETHING feeding the masses but Jin agreeing to do this tour right now is such an excellent way to relieve a little bit of the pressure on the members as they're adjusting to their post-military life. They've all already got enough going on without even more pressure to return to group activities. We know he's not the biggest fan of traveling and maybe this type of show is something he would have wanted to do despite that but it absolutely needs to be said that he's provided a measure of time for the members to recover.

AYS Production Timeline

So, there are some clues we can take note of from the existing season of AYS when we're hypothesizing logistics for an upcoming season. Specifically, the timeline of production. Here are the relevant dates:

14 JUL 2023: USA Trip

26 SEPT 2023: Jeju Trip

25 NOV 2023: Sapporo Trip

04 JUL 2024: Release Announcement

08 AUG 2024: Premiere

20 SEPT 2024: Photobook Release

We know JM/JK watched a cut of the first episode while they were in Sapporo. Knowing, the release deadline was nowhere soon, I remember being very surprised the first time I watched that part of the episode. That's a pretty quick turnaround time for a project that isn't due. It's wasn't a 100% final edit but the structure was all there. They still needed to do music, captions, and all of the extra bits but the episode we see them watch on the screen (not the in frame but what we can actually see) is basically done. (Note: there's absolutely a confirmation bias at play here because anything they did drastically change, would not have made it to the final edit that we see in the Sapporo ep).

Anyway, a couple of items to be aware that could impact a change in the production timeline requirements:

Standards/established practices: Since this is not a creation of a NEW show but an iteration of an existing one, the team is going to be able to leverage precedent from the previous show. Some creative elements won't require as much time for the decision-making process because they can lean on what they've already done before. Example: the train sequence in Sapporo. I'd wager the team had to provide and test a few options of how they wanted to handle that content before landing in the background animation. Now, if they're in a similar situation, they won't necessarily need to research options because they have a pre-approved solution that fits within the tone of the show.

Brand deals: the USA episodes had little-to-no sponsorships. That practice evolved in the coming episodes with blatant product placement. Such deals may require oversight/approval by the brand at various stages of the production.

Distribution requirements: during the release of AYS, I've been theorizing that the show was pretty far into production before it was shopped to Disney. I still dont have any solid evidence one way or another but no matter how it's going to be distributed, all parties involved now have more information with the success of the first season. This could result in different requirements and obligations to fulfill.

Group schedule pressure: like I said above, there's a building pressure regarding when BTS group activities will be resuming. It'll be very interesting to see where another season of AYS would fall in the timeline. It's possible they're wanting to hurry this along to fill the gap before group activities resume. Or it could be held off to another appropriate time in the future. They've already proved that a near year delay between principal photography and release was acceptable to the consumer.

(Related sidenote: there's definitely some points we can delve further into when it comes to the idea of financing group activities vs solo. RM made a very specific point on it during the Festa Dinner. I'd been planning to do a series of posts on this regarding each members' solo work and what we can glean from that during the period of military service...but obviously I didn't get that done before they returned)

One final note

This show likely could be a very comfortable way for both Jimin and Jungkook to share their military stories with us. They both have told us on multiple occasions that there's a lot they do want to share but that they want to organize it. AYS may provide that organization and structure that they're looking for. Whilst also giving them the freedom to say whatever they want, knowing that it can be edited, something that couldn't happen if they were to tell us during a livestream. It will also have the benefit of official translations at the same time so there's less opportunity for misconstrued understanding due to translation gaps.

I feel like I had more thoughts swimming around about this but this is everything i can compile right now. I'd love to hear what y'all think!

I'm not going to be responding to any queries regarding rumors of where the members are or what they're doing as they travel. Not only is that an invasion of privacy, it tarnishes the gift they are giving us with these shows. I want to respect their time and effort by accepting the show when it releases.

Link to my AYS MasterList

[npookie0]

Mystery from Saja boys pleeeeasssee 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺

Wordless Confession

One man who kept many things secret and rarely spoke, stolen your demonic heart and after many sleepless nights you were ready to confess your feelings. But how could you do that without words?

words [ 1238 ]

cws: spoilers for KDH, headcanony take on Mystery, mute reader, gender neutral reader !

You were mute all your life, or for as long as you could remember at the very least. You hated this fate, you wanted to sing like the king's entertainers you saw or the boy who bought himself a prestige life with his beautiful voice by the king's side. You were just an uninteresting mute servant who loved music deeply.

You thought that you were doomed to fail, until one night you heard that voice. I'll help you become a successful musician, everyone will love your song, you be rich and known in the whole world.

And so, you sealed a deal with Gwi Ma, a day after you were known a Y/n a creator of the most beautiful and soul touching melodies of the century. There was a drawback to that deal you sealed tho.

You were still mute. All you did was play on instruments while others sang and performed the music you wrote. You soon started to despise this life, this false popularity that was soon stripped from you. You were only good for writing and creating music, you couldn't even perform it fully.

Gwi Ma used your weakness against you and the rest of your existence you spent as a demon, hearing your songs played during human festivals or in museums. Your human self was history, mentioned by name only a few times and hidden behind the names of those who sang your songs.

You despised music, didn't want to create it or be even a tiny bit good at it, but it was too late and you were too good.

"Jinu. Our demonic composer here will help you, they know how to make great music. Be sure to use their skill well." Were Gwi Ma's words to Jinu and the rest of his demonic boys band when they returned to the demon realm.

"But we don't need help. You said that I could do it however I want." Jinu tried to argue, but the demon king didn't listen.

You weren't pleased with this decision either, you'd much prefer staying in the safety of your corner in the endless underground than write music for a boys band to steal souls with. But it's not like any choice or say in that matter.

So forced to work with the Saja Boys you started to write songs for them to take over the Huntr/x's fans to destroy the Honmoon and feed Gwi Ma. Reading Soda Pop's lyrics gave you some ideas for the beat and you were quick to work, making the melody energetic and light, like a summer hit.

You didn't care about the boys or their singing much, to you they sounded like a regular human pop group. At least until you heard him.

Mystery, the quietest of the group, a guy who spoke when he absolutely had to. Hearing his voice when it was his turn to sing his verses during practice was like the most breathtaking experience in your life. The softness and fragility of his voice was just something else.

Suddenly your whole view on writing songs for them changed and you genuinely wanted to write songs for this boys band just to hear Mystery's voice more.

His voice wasn't the only thing that made you find inspiration. He was hanging around you more, not really talking, just sitting next to you and sometimes looking at you as you worked.

You've grown to know each other better, this weird friendship you two had, it bloomed. You knew each others food and drink preferences, style, music tastes, all the basic things. Your emotions were expressed by the music you shown him and he sang.

On some night you sat alone in the studio, pouring your heart into lyrics and melodies with the secretive man on your mind. The image of his face in your mind made your heart beat faster and made Gwi Ma's voice quiet behind the melodies hummed by him.

You didn't understand yourself, these thoughts, these feelings. You didn't feel like this about anyone in a long time. Was it what humans called love? Could you really love Mystery?

You were so confused, so lost in these feelings. Music was the only means of expressing these conflicting emotions you had so you poured all you had into that. Drowning yourself under notes and the sound of instruments, filling paper with words you could never say even if you wished to.

Weeks were passing. Saja Boys were more popular and Jinu gave you lyrics for their final song. That's when you realised that soon even confessing could be impossible, you didn't know how this whole thing would end and if you would be alive after that song is crafted. Dying without confessing the feelings you were trying to understand for so long felt like a waste.

You didn't want to waste the time you spent on it.

One day you left a note on Mystery's lyrics, asking him to see you after the practice outside of town so no of the Saja Boys or humans could interrupt your meeting.

You sat there, staring at the setting sun, holding your guitar on your lap and looking down at the lyrics you had written for Mystery, the lyrics of your perfect song, the song that made you smile at the thought of someone singing it instead of feeling hate towards anyone who would dare to do so.

Someone sat down next you and you didn't need to turn around to check who it was. As always he didn't say anything, he looked at you as he usually did and then he looked at the paper you were holding out for him. He took it from you and looked at your wailingly. You picked up your guitar and smiled at him. He took the hint and cleared his throat looking down at the lyrics.

You started playing and suddenly the world felt light, as if it was made from feathers.

His voice filled your mind and body, crawling under your skin and entering your veins like a drug, intoxicating and addicting. This feeling wasn't strange to you, you welcomed it like an old friend.

Mystery's voice always made you feel like this. Like his voice was a part of you that you missed and it fit perfectly with you like a missing piece of puzzle.

Soon, he stopped singing and you finished playing. The lightness was gone with the sun. You were surrounded by darkness and the rustle of leaves being moved by the wind.

None of you moved, he didn't say anything. You just looked at each other unmoving, your breathing synced perfectly.

You slowly moved your hand up, the tips of your fingers made contact with his smooth skin and it send a pleasant electricity shock throughout your whole body. Your hand cupped the side of his face, moving the hair away form his eyes and you could finally see the small sparkles of joy in his gaze.

You were breathless, but not with the realisation, you knew long ago that Mystery felt the same towards you, you were shocked with the beauty of his eyes.

Without realising you leaned forward, he met you in the middle and your lips connected. It was a sweet kiss, one you would remember for eternity and would dream about every night.

If this kiss was a song, you would play it on repeat forever.

Was it cheasy? Maybe, but I love cheasy and corny fluff <3

You know it, I know it. I'm a sucker for good fluff and painful angst :3

See you soon cuties

Nathan :p

[ladyknightskye]

Honestly this is really my thing with a lot modern feminism takes that just drive me bananas - nobody asks why.

Why do women wear bras?

Why do men not wear make up?

Why do women shave?

Yes, beauty and grooming standards are tools of patriarchy, but 1) it cuts both ways and 2) tools are not structures.

Tools have to be developed. Weaponized.

American women shave their arms and legs because of capitalism. In the early 1900s, companies that specialized in men’s hair grooming wanted to expand their market, so they targeted women. At the same time, garment manufacturers were producing sheer garments and then in the 20s, hemlines rose. Women’s magazines carried advertisements for both, and helped weave together the idea that underarm and then later leg hair was unattractive and unfeminine.

Men used to wear cosmetics all the time. However, shifts in social norms discouraged this practice by the early 1800s. Manliness was more and more defined by “not doing womanly things” so by the late 1800s, being effeminate made a man weak and unattractive. Homophobia was only a minor concern until well into the 1900s if I’m not mistaken. And let’s not forget that around the same time we start seeing the rise of proto-feminism - Mary Shelley’s mother was Mary Wollstonecraft who wrote one of the earliest essays on women’s rights.

As OP states above, bras are functional garments just like corsets and stays. And women from around the world have used various types of support garments or clothing techniques to help support the girls for centuries. Construct a medieval kirtle just right and it basically has a built in bra. Or lace yourself up just right and again, built in bra. Also, “corsets/tight-lacing causes health problems” was basically a meme that got passed around as fact.

Women started shaving their legs and underarms because of capitalism. Women are expected to shave now because patriarchy just picked up the tool capitalism created. And honestly in my experience as a woman that never shaves her underarms and rarely de-furs her legs - nobody says shit. They may judge, but I’ve never been approached about it, not even from my boss. And shaving differs from culture to culture even within the US.

Women wear bras because many of us require a little help keeping our girls where they need to be. We are expected to wear bras because our breasts are so heavily objectified that a female-presenting nipple is automatically obscene. Bras became a tool to exercise control over a woman’s sexuality because a secondary sexual characteristic became inherently pornographic.

Men stopped wearing cosmetics culturally because with women gaining more and more rights, masculinity shifted to be more and more about contrasting women in as many physical ways as possible. Men were no longer defined by their status, so they had to define themselves in a different way. Patriarchy survived by focusing more on the physicality of men. It’s why it started to punish any perception of “womanliness.” And this isn’t just a Western thing - some version of it now exists in many cultures around the world.

So out of these three things, which one is actually a pillar of patriarchy? Which one is there purely to reinforce gender norms and patriarchal power? Women shaving (which is not a universal thing), wearing bras (which is grounded in the universal need of anyone with boobs to support said tits), or men not being allowed to wear make up openly (which used to be a thing and then feminism happened)?

I think instead of being worried about bras and razors, maybe we should discuss how we break down the notion that masculinity is defined by “never being girly.”

Honestly the way in "feminist spaces" bras are talked about like they're a beauty treatment is so weird. They're a support garment. Some people also wear them for modesty, which like if you don't care about that fine but a lot of people do, but either way they're ultimately practical, supportive underwear pieces and not necessarily anything more. You can get very utilitarian ones and very decorative ones and we've incorporated them into sexual play like we have panties, but they're just there to help keep your tatas from smacking you in the face.

Whether its some skinny small-tittied bitch in the 70s burning them or some skinny small-tittied bitch now sharing psas like "you don't Have to wear a bra! Feminism!" they never fucking go away. Like pretty sure the folks who don't have to already know that. I'm not wearing one bc I want to appeal to patriarchal beauty standards, I'm doing it bc the alternative is Deeply physically uncomfortable and even painful, and that's what the fucking things were invented for. I get that you're Thin™️ and Normal™️ or whatever but the rest of us aren't. Like why dont your call out jock straps or shoes, obviously people only wear those for sexualized and performative patriarchal reasons and no actual practical function, right? Like live a goddamn day in my cup size before you talk to me about this shit again.

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[vallorouslly]

Ships Tag Drop Part 2!

I will be tagging all previous interactions with these tags in place of your usernames (those with AUs I'll hunt them down and tag manually).

This drop includes : @adversitybloomed @amused-bouche (Geo, Amin & Myles) @blckfckinmsk @bruz3r @hstoryhuh @lanternlit @manaborn @paramounticebound @poisonedfire @piinkviscera @sxrgeant @silver-blooded-synthetics @soulwaned (June, Beatrice & Katniss) @snkts @turkicgods (just Matyr for now) @tensleepshrike @vuulpecula

(i didn't get everyone i wanted to but i just need to keep things manageable for these drops)

[luxlightly]

I'd been thinking, a few days ago, somewhat fittingly, about the concept of things "mattering", especially within the context of the game Ultrakill but also in the broader sense. Specifically the question of "does something matter if it is doomed to end? How can something be significant if it is inherently finite and, at the scale of the universe, incredibly fleeting?"

I was thinking about the layers at which we can consider things "mattering". At the cosmic, consequential, and personal/emotional.

Does it matter that Gabriel realizes what he feels is passion and for the first time finds a tiny bit of true happiness if he's about to die for it? Does it matter that humanity ended the war and restored the planet if it was all going to be destroyed anyway? Does it matter that the people of Lust turned the layer into a paradise if Gabriel destroyed it so violently after such little time?

On a cosmic scale, the answer is always "no". Nothing can "matter" at the scale of infinity. At a practical level, it's also "no". Gabriel will still die, humanity was still destroyed and the Earth burned, Lust was cast back into perdition. None of what they did or felt would change those outcomes.

But on a personal and emotional level, did it matter?

Of course it did.

It mattered because, however briefly, there existed a joy,a love, and a hope that otherwise would not have. For those moments, however fleeting, the universe was better for it.

People and things come in and out of our lives. Things end. Things die. And when we lose them it's hard to see past that pain. Past the unfairness of how love so strong can just be taken away, and often so quickly.

But, for the time it was there, there was love.

Beautifully, impossibly, in the face of an unimaginably immense and expanding universe of almost entirely empty space, every incalculably improbable and rare occurance came together in a single point to allow a brief moment where there was love.

And of course that mattered.

[undefeatablesin]

born too late to explore the world, born too soon to explore the space... born just in time to read the gay bloodborne fic from that one lady who does amazing art on tumblr

And here I am, somehow born at just the right time to make the acquaintance of such lovely and likeminded people, who all enjoy gay content of the beloved modern classic that is Bloodborne (2015) for the PS4 💖

But omg thank you so much for this lil message though 🥺 it really does make me so happy to see people enjoy what I make here. I say it all the time I know but its TRUE and I am GRATEFUL!!! I feel very lucky to have all of you here with me on my gay adventures lmao so I hope you enjoy that fic just as much when it arrives soon! Bless you... ✨️

[neverendingford]

.

[aechlys]

I dreamed the whole night of being in a large graveyard and hanging around with both the living and the dead. The overall takeaway was that even if peoples' ultimate causes of death make enough sense, there is still a very "what the fuck though??" feeling sometimes that wants understanding. Like "ok, this killed me but how the fuck did I die??" You can have all the scientific answers in the world but the mind will still grapple with the reasons. Because we are human, you know?

A whole assortment of people were there, it was odd and I also don't like dreaming about the living especially in scenarios like this. But it was also just everyone trying to sort through it out together and that there was still somehow a system and function behind it all despite the appearance of chaos.

And yes you can probably guess who was also there, quietly though.

I spent my time running around this graveyard, chatting with some and helping others, all the while learning what I could. With a person or two keeping to the background almost like guardians as I explored (if you can call it exploring).

It was odd but interesting.

[copperbadge]

Tomorrow I will have been in fandom for thirty years.

I can mark the anniversary very precisely because I know the name of the first fanfic I ever read, which is fortunately archived online along with the date it was posted, the same day I read it. I don't believe Usenet exists anymore and I've been here too long to believe that nothing ever disappears off the internet, so I know that archives are truly a gift to history.

I posted my first fanfic not that long after. It wasn't well-written but reading it today I can see that the narrative was sound. People said they liked it, which was kind given how extremely bad my grammar was. I was an awkward teenager with undiagnosed ADHD and praise was rare for me, but when I wrote fanfic someone always said something kind about it. Eventually a few of them took me under their wing and explained things like "where quotation marks go" and "paragraph breaks". Commas, I fear, are a lost cause even today, but they tried, bless them.

I thought about doing something big to commemorate the anniversary, but I couldn't really think what I might do and the world right now is pretty exhausting. I'm forty five and I'm tired. But imagine how much more exhausting the world would be without fandom -- how much emptier my life would be without my friends, this community, the writing I do, the art and beauty fandom exposes me to. So for now I'm just meditating on that a bit -- the richness of the experience, the gifts I've been fortunate to receive, the lessons I've been fortunate (if sometimes reluctant) to learn.

In another thirty years I'll be seventy five, if I live so long. Thirty years ago we didn't in any meaningful sense have digital cameras, let alone cellphones or smartphones, social media, streaming television, GPS. I did a report on the science of cloning for my high school biology class (on the suggestion of a fellow fan) a year before Dolly was cloned. I wrote my first fanfic using a computer running Windows version 3.1. I wrote it in Notepad, still a constant companion.

I hope I live to seventy five. As tired as I am, I'm looking forward to seeing where the next thirty years will take us.

I hope Notepad will still be there.

[withahappyrefrain]

wanna give bob sloppy head that has hum questioning his entire existence

Look, It's what he deserves

"Please Bobby?" He wanted to take you out on a lovely picnic date in a nice secluded spot. Bob was trying to be romantic.

What he didn't account for was that you would be ovulating at the time.

"Darlin, it's alright. I can wait until we get back in the car," He tries to assure you. Tries not to jerk his hips when your lips trace over the denim covered bulge, "You don't have to-"

"But I want to," your chin is laying on top of his poorly hidden erection. With those doe eyes, you look so innocent, despite your intentions being the exact opposite.

Bob Floyd has pretty good restraint. Except when it comes to you.

Which is how he finds himself on his back, the soft fabric of the picnic blanket providing comfort, the sun shining down on a beautiful spring day. Not that he could focus on the picturesque view of nature.

No. Bob's eyes could only focus on you and the way your mouth worked his cock. What you couldn't reach, your hand was covered, stroking in tendam.

Then there were the noises. God, the noises you make. Little moans and grunts that dribble from the corner of your mouth.

Bob had always known he enjoyed giving. Going down on his partner was a pleasure. A chance to make them come completely undone. His past relationships had thoroughly enjoyed this aspect of him, but it was never truly reciprocated to the same degree. It didn’t bother Bob, not greatly. For one, he was big. Going down on him required acceptance of a sore jaw. The other was that he truly enjoyed it, truly got off on getting his partner off. Don’t ask him to count how many times he came while in between a pair of legs, the number was embarrassingly high.

Yes, a blowjob was nice every now and then. But it wasn’t something Bob expected. He came to accept it would be a nice, albeit rare, treat.

Until he met you.

Size wasn’t a deterrence. The man made you see stars with just his tongue. In your mind, it only made sense to return the favor. Getting adjusted to the sheer size of Bob Floyd took some time, but you were certainly up to the task.

Besides, it was so fun to watch the usually well composed and calm WSO come undone. If only his fellow pilots could see him now; perfectly gelled hair now curly due to tossing his head from side to side against the blanket. A flush of red that started from the top of his head and ran down to his chest. His rich baritone voice reduced to strangled groans and whines.

Smiling to yourself, your tongue trailed down his hard shaft, starving off his impending orgasm. Bob always took his time with you, so why not do the same?

“D-darlin, p-please.” Who could think of coherent sentences when your tongue was playing around with his aching balls? Christ, he didn’t even get why others were into that until he met you.

You hummed, playing innocent, “You want something Bobby?” His lithe hips spasmed as you increased the pace of your strokes.

“I….” If Bob wasn’t careful, he was going to ask you to marry him instead of asking to come, “Fuck!” A swear! From Bob Floyd! Always a feat.

“Later. When we’re in the car. First, I wanna feel you come down my throat,” was all you said before returning your mouth to his cock. Swallowing Bob Floyd whole was nearly impossible (despite what romance authors say), but you did your best, nose almost reaching the dark hair that dusted the area below his stomach.

Feeling your throat constrict and squeeze around him, Bob could only throw his head back to let out a deep, strangled groan that had him thankful for picking such a secluded spot. His hands fumbled towards your shoulders, gripping on for dear life as your sinful mouth continued its actions.

Bob tried to be considerate and most of the time he succeeded in that regard. His hips jerked upward entirely on their own and normally, he would apologize for it.

But then he felt your throat tightened, heard you gag on his cock and Bob lost all control. All he could focus on was your mouth and how good it felt around his cock. How were you even real? How was it possible he had you, a fucking goddess, on their hands and knees in a park, making him feel fucking incredible?

Perhaps he and Nat didn't eject that day and Bob had found his way to heaven, now coming down a beautiful angel's throat. That was definitely not mentioned in Sunday School.

You took all he had to offer, delighted in doing so. The way his hips squirm, unsure whether to jerk towards or away from your mouth. Digging your fingers into the flesh, you guided his hips towards your mouth, deadset on continuing until he verbally objected.

Least you could do for the guy who made you squirt for the first time.

[i-like-loserz]

honey, baby

synopsis: san needs your attention

pairing: husband!san x afab!reader

warnings: SMUT (18+), jealousy, handjob, begging, teasing, sub!san, dacryphilia, pet-names, house-wife!reader, messy endings, light marking kink, reader does not get off..., not proof-read :0

word count: 2.5k

note: i'm sorry, we all need some sub!san in our lives... right...

masterlist

How delicate his hand is, adorned handsomely with understated rings, pressing gently against the small of your back as he leads you through the room. Artificial chatter, decorated with an occasional bout of posh laughter, settles finely above the jazz playing in the background. 

Your heels click softly against the marble flooring, each step lining up perfectly with his. 

Together, you’re a vision of excellence. 

San is the man that everyone wants. The definition of a gentleman. He’s charming, polite, and patient. But also unbelievably beautiful. He comes from a background of old money, but his legacy never stopped him from looking elsewhere for love.

Then there’s you. A woman who can blend into any crowd, disarming even the most stuck-up aristocrat with an easy smile. No one knows where you came from, but they don’t really care – or rather, they stopped caring once they realized how easily San would drop them for bothering you. 

The two of you act as the personification of refined love. 

Modest, refined, and lovely. Rarely sharing even a single kiss in front of an audience. 

San nods to a few guests as he passes them, politely acknowledging their existence, but never making a move to engage with them. He exudes this aura of cool confidence – as if every breath he takes is calculated and perfected. This way, no one ever questions his decisions or fights his whims…not like you anyway.

The wine glass in your hand has a bare sip of red left in it. The rim is spotted with the seductive print of your lips, reflecting the small tastes you took throughout the night to keep yourself relatively sober.

You would have gone for another but a heated whisper, pressed exquisitely against the edge of your ear, drew away any thoughts of humoring your husband’s guests. You settle it gently on a counter, no longer needing the prop of a hostess. 

San’s leading hand presses more insistently against back with each step he takes. His breaths grow deeper, his body draws closer. 

Usually, he’s able to wait until the party ends – watching you with dark eyes as you see the last of the crowd off, thanking them for visiting with that polite smile you’ve perfected. You’re so good to him, putting up with the lifestyle he was born into and taking the role of the perfect housewife and hostess that pays attention to every need her guests have.  

But now, San needs your attention to be directed at him. 

—

He broke while you were in the middle of a conversation with somebody’s plus one. And San knows he was a plus one because he didn’t recognize the man…or his name…or his “successful tech” company. 

He’s not usually a jealous man, but something about this guy…

San was sitting next to you, charming yet another investor of his father’s business, when he heard a low voice speaking to his beautiful wife, “Please, call me Yunho, Mr. Jeong is my father.” 

It peeved him.

You laughed politely, displaying your easy going nature by complying with his wish, repeating his first name before offering your own. San bristled at the sound of another man’s name coming from your lips. 

Who even is this guy? 

There were no Jeongs on the guestlist – and he would know, he’s the one who checks off on that stuff. This is a business party, not some get together that can be crashed so unpleasantly by an overnight millionaire like him.

The investor he was once trying to woo was getting pulled into a different conversation. And thank god for that. He wouldn’t have been much fun to talk to when he’s distracted like this anyway. 

San took that as an opportunity to turn his body toward yours. He watched intently as you continued your friendly interaction with a handsome stranger – who seems to be leaning closer with every pretty word you speak. 

You looked effortlessly beautiful as you rambled about the recent trip he took you on, excitedly describing your favorite restaurants with that familiar brightness in your eyes. He’s suddenly longing to hold your hand right then and there, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck. 

His hand moved before he could think about it, gently brushing over your forearm to get your attention. When you turned to look at your husband, the man in front of you retreated from his slow shift into your space, suddenly uneasy by how San was staring him down. 

“Honey?”

At the sound of your voice, he shifted his attention from the offending man to you, the tension in his shoulders easing at the affectionate pet-name. San rounded his eyes innocently, softening his expression. 

“Baby…” He said timidly in a bare whisper, fully knowing that that name was strictly off-limits in public. You raise a questioning eyebrow, wondering what made your husband so needy all of the sudden.

“San.”

San leaned closer to you, a hand slowly shifting from the velvet couch to the top of your thigh. The guests continued to bustle around the two of you, unaware of the sudden tension settling between you. You let him push closer until his lips barely brush against ear.

“Pay attention to me…”

—

You’ve never left your own party early. You have actually trained yourself to have the same amount of energy greeting the guests as you do leading them out. The party doesn't end until you've seen everyone out.

So will anyone really notice a scant 15 minutes of your absence?

Well, you hope not. 

San couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. Instead, he pulled you into an oversized laundry room at the end of the hall, sliding the door shut before you could protest about being too close to the party.

“Sannie, wait.” 

Your words are lost to the air. 

He’s already pressing desperate, hot kisses against your throat. His broad body effectively pins you to the door as his hands, itching to undress you, drag over your soft curves covered by the fine fabric of your dress. Eager fingers grope over your tits before settling delicately around the base of your neck.

His suit jacket rests in a heap on the floor, leaving him in his unbuttoned vest and wrinkled dress shirt – a view you’d love to devour if not for the people who stand on the other side of the door. 

“Maybe we should stop –” 

“I can’t, I-I need you, baby.” He’s begging you – each word pathetically whined out from his pouty lips. “Need you close to me.”

“What if they notice that we’re both gone? What if they come looking?”

Pitiful moans are pressed onto your skin as he helplessly grasps at your body, scared that you’d leave him wanting and overwhelmed by his need to feel you against him.

At this point, San wouldn’t care if the whole party saw him fucking you against the dining table – least of all that Yunho guy. He doesn’t care if they can hear him whining for you, begging you to let him fill you up like he does every night. He wants to show you off, hold open your cum soaked thighs just to show them that you love him and he’s your good boy. 

But at the same time, letting anyone see you like that irks him like nothing else. You’re his and he’s yours.

“Please.” He implores, eyes glistening with a needy look. He gently takes your hand and leads it to where he needs you the most. You give in easily, pressing against his cock which strains against his perfectly tailored trousers. He’s already throbbing from the faint sensation of your touch. 

“Please…?” You tease under your breath, now fully gripping the shape of him through the layers of his clothes. He watches the way your hand moves over him with a dazed look, appreciating the way your small hand looks, fisting his clothed cock with glazed eyes.

You squeeze him abruptly, nudging him for an answer and he responds with a surprised whine, his hips jerking up against you from the intense sensation.  

“Please t-touch me.” 

“I am, baby.”

His dark eyebrows pinch in frustration, “You know what I mean.”

You hum understandingly, slowly unzipping his pants as you taunt him.

“You’re so needy…” 

He sighs as you pull down his briefs along with the restricting fabric of his pants. His thick cock slaps against his covered stomach, flushed prettily in a deep shade of pink, gently weeping pre-cum at the tip. Everything about San is pretty – especially the enamoured way he stares down at you with his signature pouty lips and flushed cheeks.

Eyes locked with his, you idly run a finger against his bare hip, so close to where he wants you to touch. He stutters out a shaky breath, his body shivering from the delicate sensation.

“K-kiss me.” He cups your jaw and moves impossibly closer to you. Your chest meets his as he holds you close, his hips pressing his hard cock against your body. He dips down to hover his soft lips over yours, “...Please.” He adds in a whisper – drenched in desperation. 

As if you could ever deny him.

“You’re cute…” You whisper back before pressing your lips onto his. 

You feel him immediately melt against you, his cock twitching eagerly against your stomach as he finally tastes you on his tongue. You hope he doesn't notice how you subtly rub your thighs together, an attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Your hands drift from resting on his chest to tangle in his hair, tugging gently at the ends, if only to hear that breathless whine that you adore. 

As you draw away for a breath, you notice a smear of red messily decorating his lips. He doesn’t seem to care though, looking down at a similar mess on your lips with a heated gaze.

You can tell that he’s imagining the same stain at the base of his cock. San has a thing for marks, especially because it’s you who’s leaving them. 

You lift up his dress shirt before pressing the palm of your hand against his aching erection, drawing a cute whimper from him. His stomach flexes from the sudden coolness of the air touching his heated skin.

Oh, how you want to lick over each defined ab, make him cry out from your teasing before biting into the firmness of his stupidly broad chest – but you don’t have time for that right now.

“Look at you,” You wrap your hand around him and slowly start to jerk him off, “almost about to cum from some kissing.” San bites his bottom lip to keep his moans down as your thumb repeatedly rubs over the edge of his sensitive tip. 

“C-can’t help it, you taste s-so good.” His hips thrust eagerly against your hand, cock generously leaking as he feels himself already approaching the edge.

Your wrist moves in quick, practiced motions, slick noises filling the space between you. You can't help but dip your other hand under his dress shirt, feeling up his perfect body with the edge of your nails to make him tremble.

“I'll let you taste more tonight if you cum for me like a good boy."

San nods eagerly, but you can tell by that hazy look in his eye that he'd agree to jump off from the second floor balcony if you asked him.

You can tell that he's getting close by the way he's bucking into your slippery fist, whines growing louder and more desperate. It almost looks like he's about to cry as he stares down at the way your hand is wrapped so perfectly around his throbbing cock.

“About to c-cum,” he pants, eyes glistening sweetly. "F-ffuck, baby… Y-you’re s-so good to me. Don’t want it to get on you, though, and ruin your pretty dress.”

"No?" You tease as you watch him struggle to move a mere inch away, hips still thrusting in want. How cute. His eyes squeeze shut at your honeyed tone, knowing you were going to make it harder for him to back away. "You don't want to see me covered in your pretty mess?"

"Nnghh~" You watch him scramble to hold off his orgasm, legs shaking as his hands grip your waist tightly to ground himself. "please -- !"

You finally let him make some space between you, finding it adorable that even in this state, he's worried about protecting you from the people outside.

You give him one last squeeze, fingers brushing over his dripping tip before whispering: "Okay, baby~ Cum for me."

And he does. Oh, how he makes a mess of himself.

His broad shoulders shake as he curls his body into himself, head dipped while spilling out the most pathetic breathy whines against the top of your shoulder.

His hips shake sporadically as each rope of cum covers your hand, dripping miraculously over his lap and onto his once perfectly-pressed pants. Somehow, he stayed true to his word. Not a drop touched your dress.

"Good boy..."

He groans as you milk him with a tight fist, body shuddering from the overstimulation. Your other hand soothes him, rubbing gently over his stomach as he moves through his high.

---

San's panting, leaning against the washing machine with a fucked-out look on his face. He pulled his briefs back on, opting to leave the pants unbuttoned and barely hanging onto his hips.

At this point, it would be better for him to change – his pants are stained with drops of cum, his shirt is wrinkled and stretched out, his hair has been fluffed into a mess. 

Maybe you should just tell everyone that he wasn’t feeling well…

You press a light peck to the side of his flushed neck before moving away from him in a hurry. You wash your hands in the small sink at the corner of the room and find a few tissues to take off your ruined lipstick and any residual sweat. 

You try to fix your hair to look decent – though there is no mirror to really check – and smooth out your dress. Thankfully, San only made a mess of himself (at least, visually). You were planning to slip into a bathroom on the way to the parlor anyway. 

“Ok, baby.” You throw the tissues away before turning back to your husband. His eyes are still half-lidded with lust, watching how easily you go back to being the refined woman from earlier this evening. “Clean yourself up, I’m going back out. I’ll tell them you’re feeling under the weather.” 

“You’re so beautiful.” His raspy voice is endearing. 

You feel your cheeks heating up at the compliment. You try to stamp it down, try to stay composed, but he always knows what to say to make you feel this way. 

“You are beautiful, baby.” You respond with a gentle smile, walking back to him to give him one last kiss. One turns into many. He shyly smiles back, his dimples deepening as you scatter more kisses around his face.

“Wish me luck out there.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair to reduce the fluffiness. 

“Come back to me soon, okay?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

[athenalvss]

SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM ( Dick Grayson! )

request; can I ask for a dick grayson x fem!reader?! Where she is extremely beautiful, like surreal, and when she introduces herself to the people (titans and batfam) everyone is hypnotized and dick's ex-girlfriends get jealous

pairing: dick grayson x fem reader

a/n: I was enjoying so much writing this until I decided to be stupid in some way and delete all my work. sad af.

summary: A new hero has arrived in the city and after a few encounters with Nightwing on patrol, it leads to the beginning of a friendship - according to them - in a new case that involves the great heroes. Dick calls her cause he thinks she could help, but it is not her abilities that perplex his friends and family.

open request - batfam masterlist

The first time you met Dick, it wasn't exactly in a normal way, not even with his real name. The two of you were patrolling the city when you happened upon a bank robbery and arrived just in time before a guy inadvertently knocked him unconscious from behind.

That's when he turned around and saw you. You were somewhat hypnotic, with an ethereal bearing and a magnetic presence. It wasn't just the way your suit looked on your body; there was something about your gaze, it had a depth and power he'd rarely seen.

"Are you okay?" You said as you approached. "It was a hard punch" you said. He seemed a little dizzy, and you were worried he might faint somewhere in the city.

"Yes, yes," he whispered softly, keeping his gaze fixed on yours. He took a microsecond longer to analyze the little skin of your face the mask allowed him to see. He could see soft skin, the curve of your nose that fit the shape of your face perfectly, and lips that could drive anyone crazy. "I'm fine. I just didn't see it coming, thanks..."

From then on, you met every night on the same rooftop on patrol, and later, after a fight on those nights, they ended up revealing their identities to each other. They knew each other well enough to share their biggest secrets.

Your friendship had stopped being just nocturnal and you became part of each other's daily lives, but there was a small detail, no one knew of your existence, or at least no one had seen you, that was until one night you received a call.

── .✦

"Trust me, she'll be a big help with this." Dick came back to the room where all the titans were after making the call.

"She? Are you going to let a stranger into the tower?" Kori looked at Dick with a look of complaint and surprise.

“I trust her.” Dick was blunt, but not harsh. That sentence was enough to make Rachel look up from her book and Gar grimace.

“We didn’t even know he existed until ten seconds ago,” Kori muttered, “unbelievable.”

Before Dick could respond, the security system beeped softly: someone had just arrived at the perimeter. Dick walked over to the console.

"Get ready," he said, still staring at the screen as he excitedly headed for the door. "She's here."

When the elevator doors opened, silence fell like a heavy blanket.

When you joined, you went straight to Dick. The Titans couldn't see everything from where they were, but they clearly saw how one of your arms was around his neck and one of Dick's big hands was placed on your waist. The two of you started walking together toward the living room, him keeping his hand on your waist.

Rachel stopped pretending not to look. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes scanned you with clinical interest.

Gar, his jaw a little slack, turned to Conner. “Is she human?”

Conner just frowned, as if he needed to adjust his vision to confirm you weren't floating a few inches off the ground.

Kori didn't speak. She looked at you as if your every move was a carefully calculated threat. Her posture changed, becoming more rigid. Her arms crossed over her chest and her stoic expression didn't hide the flash of annoyance in her eyes at the sight of Dick's hand on your body.

Your gait was fluid, steady, marking your presence in the room with a naturalness that wasn't affected by the unfamiliar surroundings. Your eyes scanned the room calmly, taking in every detail, trying not to seem so surprised to finally be in the place that had once been Dick's home. But the four Titans standing there were watching you intently; everything about you seemed to belong to another planet: an ethereal, magnetic presence, your figure, everything about you.

You were like a model, definitely Dick's type.

Gar blinked a couple of times. Conner lowered his crossed arms. Rachel simply raised an eyebrow, visibly interested.

Kori, on the other hand, crossed her arms even more tightly, if that was possible.

Dick came closer. "Guys, she's-"

"Wait, no, don't tell me his name." Gar raised a hand. "I'd rather continue believing it's an illusion sent by some higher entity to distract us."

You smiled slightly, as if you were used to such reactions. "What a... warm welcome," you said in a soft but ironic voice, looking at them sweetly.

Conner watched you silently, assessing, as if he were wondering whether you were an ally or a dangerous distraction. Beside him, Kori kept an eye on you. "So what exactly is she supposed to do?" she asked in a cold voice, not bothering to disguise her tone.

"It's the best option we have to resolve this," Dick said firmly, deliberately ignoring the tension that Kori was barely concealing so as not to provoke a fight.

"How did you meet him?" Rachel finally chimed in, curious about the closeness between the two.

Kori watched you closely. "So how long have you been working with Dick?"

"For a few months now," he replied before you could say anything. "We met on patrol."

"Patrolling," Kori repeated slowly, her smile never reaching her eyes. "How... typical of you."

You didn't need to be an empath like Rachel to notice the subtle venom in her words. But instead of responding with hostility, you simply turned your head toward her with a half-smile, the kind that seemed to say, 'I know exactly what you're doing, but I'm not going to fall for your game.'

“Yes, it was a coincidence… a lucky one.” Your tone was calm, almost innocent, but with a subtle edge. “Though I didn’t think someone like Dick had such a predictable routine as to be considered typical.”

Rachel giggled, covering her mouth. Gar raised his eyebrows, as if watching a tennis match between goddesses.

Dick, uncomfortable but fascinated, tried to shift the focus. “She’s good. Seriously. I’ve worked with many, but few have her analytical skills under pressure,” he said, trying to avoid a fight.

Just as the mood seemed to stabilize, Dick's phone vibrated. He checked it with a frown, and his expression immediately changed.

“We have to go,” he said suddenly, his voice deeper. “There was another attack... but this time the pattern was different. They used a security protocol that only Bruce would recognize.”

“Batman?” Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dick nodded. “He and the family have been monitoring similar movements for weeks. It seems this isn't just a local case. What we saw here is just a small part. We need his technology to trace the data back to its source.”

Gar let out a low whistle. “Oh, we’re taking the mysterious beauty to the cave. That should be interesting.”

"Actually, I need you to stay here in case something happens," Dick intervenes, announcing his plan.

"Aren't we going to the Batcave? What a betrayal, bro." Gar started acting like Dick had just said something treasonous, sounding hurt by Dick's refusal. "At least we'll be in the pretty girl's good company."

"Umm..., about that" Dick begins to speak but pauses for a few seconds searching for the right words "She's coming with me" he blurted out quickly so no one could refute his decision.

Saying those words, you turned to the princess from another planet, worried that the vein that was popping out on her forehead from anger wouldn't explode, but she turned and walked away without saying a word.

Dick sighed and looked at you. “Ready to meet the family?”

── .✦

The Batcave was a place that used to impress anyone. If you were already impressed by Titans Tower, this was insane. It was cold, sober, a super-efficient place. But when you went down the elevator with Dick, even the shadows seemed to stop and stare at you.

Upon entering, the first thing you could see were all the Bat Family suits inside those transparent tubes on display, the long tables with super-advanced Wayne Industries technology, and the five key men in Dick's life.

Tim was the first to speak, though he didn't really say anything. He just adjusted his glasses and tilted his head slightly, analyzing you as if you were a fascinating new algorithm that refused to be deciphered.

Jason let out a low, unfiltered laugh, trying not to appear mesmerized by your appearance. He smiled crookedly as his eyes scanned your figure without any shame. While keeping his gaze on you, he murmured to himself, "Now I understand how Bruce felt about working with Selina."

"Sorry, what?" You asked him, trying to understand what he said.

"Why you just shut up, Todd? you look better that way" Dick answered him with a serious look.

"Nothing important,babe, sorry" Jason answered you without taking his look on you.

Damian, from the back, murmured something that only Tim could hear, although what mattered was his posture: arms crossed, brow furrowed, sharp gaze. “I don’t trust anyone who seems like an illusion generated by an AI.” A compliment in Damia language

Bruce, in the background, remained silent. His presence filled everything, like a shadow impossible to ignore. He observed every detail: your posture, your body language, the contact you maintained with Dick. His judgment was an invisible sentence in progress, but not immediate. He analyzed. He measured. He weighed, but there also appeared that slight raise of an eyebrow that, coming from him, was practically an exclamation.

You had caught his attention, and that was weird.

The almost imperceptible sound of smooth wheels on the polished floor broke the tense air. From a darker corner of the cave, Barbara's figure appeared, descending the side ramp. She didn't announce her presence, but everyone noticed her.

She radiated control and serenity. Her red hair was perfectly combed, and his gaze was as sharp as an arrow. she stopped at a safe distance, not getting too close.

“You don't usually bring unannounced visitors,” she said finally. Her tone was gentle, but laden with invisible layers: courtesy, analysis… and something harder to define. Jealousy, perhaps, disguised as professionalism.

You could feel her gaze moving from bottom to top, not at all subtle . Your boots, your curves, the contours of your face. Everything. There was no shame or dissimulation in her eyes; only an impassive assessment that bordered on the hostile.

You were simply beautiful, you made everyone who stood next to you look ridiculous, and she definitely wasn't having it.

Dick turned to her with a half smile. “She’s not a visitor. She’s working with us on this.”

Barbara slowly lowered her gaze to where her hand still rested on your hip. Then she studied you from head to toe, unashamed, and her eyes returned to yours.

Barbara held your gaze as firmly as she held her reputation. There was no wavering in her eyes, but no sympathy either. Just silent judgment, as if trying to decide whether you were a threat, a distraction… or both at once.

“I guess that's for Bruce to decide,” she finally said in a not-so-friendly tone, turning her chair slightly toward her, although she didn't take her eyes off you completely.

Bruce finally spoke.

“Good. If you're here, it's because Dick thinks it's necessary. The least you can do is prove it.”

You turned to face him and nodded professionally. “Of course. Where do I start?”

And so, without further validation, you integrated into the cave as if you had always belonged there... even though not everyone was ready to accept it.

And when you headed to your seat, Dick escorted you, placed both hands on your shoulders, and brought his mouth as discreetly as possible close to your ear. "I'm glad I can finally introduce you to everyone" he placed a soft kiss on your head before returning to Bruce.

[vallorouslly]

@turkicgods continued [x]

Logan was glad for the lighthearted way in which it seemed Matyr knew he needed things to be in the moment. Yes, he was having a tough time of it, but out of anyone who could be here, Matyr was the best person. Logan chuckles and tries to center himself with that nudge of their shoulders. Maybe he leans into it a bit more than he should, but he can't really help it.

"You know, I don't know what it is, but I feel as if I've met you before. Years ago now, but only for a moment." He shakes his head with an exhale, a silent scoff knowing he sounds off. "I know it sounds crazy, but...your vibe, your personality, it seems so familiar. So I hope you forgive me for letting you get as comfortable as you like." Is this a revelation, a welcome invitation? He can't tell anymore. A deep breath is taken, a peek over with a smile. "Thanks."