#also. i'm really sorry for taking so long to post something

[peace-hunter]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a previous moment of B-127 in sub level 50 like a couple minutes before Orion Pax and D-16 arrived, acting emotional and wishing someone was there with him; then his thoughts while meeting Orion and D-16.

P.S. I love your art, it makes me happy. (:>)-->--<

erm. well. he's never gonna be bored again for sure (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

i'm really sorry i know this isn't really what you asked for but i couldn't get the idea out of my head and i just had to draw it out (/▽＼) i hope you still like it and i promise i'll try to do something more angsty later 〜(￣▽￣〜)

[thinkerer24]

Mary on a Cross

Young, sweet, inexperienced Johnny x Big, Bad divorced!Simon

Or, They both realise some things about themselves.

@gerdddds !!! This was SO much fun to write (I think you can guess because it started as a blurb but became so long 😭😭)

Also I suck at writing the accents like some people do, so just- imagine them speaking in their respective accents lmao

SMUT 18+

Simon was tired. His eyes felt heavy in his skull and a certain gritty sensation burnt behind his eyelid that no amount of squinting was getting rid of. Normally, Price's commanding voice kept him and his team in order, oriented them in the right direction, but tonight it just felt like grating in his ear. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor of the conference room, the post mission briefing seeming to last longer than the actual mission itself. He checked the clock above Price's head.

9.34 pm.

He couldn't wait to hit the bar just outside the base and drown himself in vodka (yes, he was a vodka guy secretly at heart; don't tell Price).

John signalled the end of the meeting and Simon almost leapt out of his seat to flee the room, attendance signatures be damned. He's a lieutenant for god's sake, not a child, he could-

"Boss! Wait for me!"

Simon is a very patient man, too. At least, he'd like to think so. But he doesn't know why every deity and every spirit was making it very very difficult for him to maintain his cool today. Did he piss someone off? Is this all that karma hitting back at him?

"Yes, McTavish, what do you want?"

The spritely young man jogged to keep up with Simon, who hadn't stopped walking, by the way, and looked a bit too excited for someone who'd just come back from a grueling ten-day mission in the middle of bumfuck Siberia.

"Are you going to Joe's? I can come with, if that's okay? I really really really need to get pissed, I don't think I've ever craved alcohol in my cells before but fucks sake I-"

"Fuck me, Soap, do ye ever stop yapping?"

Johnny just grinned wider, unfazed by his senior's gruff behaviour. "Sorry, LT. Lead the way."

Simon decided he couldn't really shake him off that easy and was too tired to argue otherwise, so he just wordlessly got in his truck. He turned to see Johnny right at his heel, climbing beside him with a jump. Eager pup, Simon mused.

He knows if he were a few years, hell even a decade younger, he'd have shown the youngin a night he wouldn't have forgotten. His sexual prowess was a bit overbearing to old lovers, men and women alike, a fact his ex husband both loved and hated. He was known to last hours in bed; in a relentless pursuit of pleasure and pain, until his partners were breathless and sore. One of his exes was once rushed to the hospital, too, on account of certain, let's say, sex injuries, that had the entire ER blushing under their masks. It was safe to say he wasn't allowed to touch her for an entire month.

Now, sitting in the dim lighting of the bar in a greasy countertop right next to the ancient stereo, he stares at Johnny and maps his features in his brain. He'd never noticed the scar on his top lip that almost disappeared when he smiled, or that he had flecks of green dusted in those blue irises. He's rambling about some video game he's eager to try out, Simon couldn't be arsed really, but he realises that Johnny's brows tick upwards whenever he gets too excited and he makes the funniest face when he's being sarcastic about something the game developers have said.

"You got a bird waitin on you, boy?" Simon interrupts him, taking a long swig of his beer.

He'd never seen a grown man blush such a deep shade of red so quick.

Cute.

"Uh, no LT. Don't reckon I got the time, you know? The missions are just too stressful, and training usually takes up most of my day, ya know? I mean, some of these girls, LT, I wouldn't even know what to say, like, hey, I'm super tired most days because I'm in a super secret special ops force and My team gets sent to highly confidential locations regularly and oh, I could die too but no big deal, see ya soon, keep dinner ready for me? My hand does fine, thank you very much."

He's rambling now, clearly tipsy, and Simon quirks an eyebrow. "Who's talking about a relationship, Johnny? You could pick up literally anyone you want at this joint- shag 'em and leave 'em? Ever heard of no strings attached?"

Johnny ducks his head and Simon realises he's hit a nerve. Unlucky for Soap, Simon relishes in making boys like him squirm.

"I- I don't know how to say this but, eh fuck it, LT-- I haven't really fucked anyone, Like, ever? I know- I know what you're gonna say, boss, but I don't wanna hear it, okay; it just- never happened, yaknow? Fuck, I really do sound like a bumbling virgin but, fuck, LT, I-"

Simon decided to put the kid out of his misery and leaned forward to put his hands between Johnny's legs and grip at the stool he was sitting on. He effortlessly slid him closer and Johnny squeaked in surprise but instantly shut up as Simon bracketed his thighs with his own and placed one large palm on his jeans, frighteningly close to his bulge.

"It's okay, kid. Stop overthinking."

The heat from Simon's palm burnt a hole through his jeans and Johnny felt a bit lightheaded. He raised his hand and slowly traced the gold wedding band on Simon's ring finger. It felt like both a reminder of his experience and a taunt- he belongs to someone else.

"He left me a year ago," Simon says softly, making Johnny shift in his seat. "Wasn't exactly- husband material, you could say."

This was the first time Johnny had ever heard about his lieutenant's private life, and also, maybe, the first time Johnny was silent for so long. He stared into Simon's eyes, eagerly swallowing every word that left his scarred lips.

"I couldn't sleep for months. The Paris job almost killed me, and Parker couldn't take it anymore. He'd begged me to retire, take a desk job, anything. I refused. Said we needed the money. I woke up the next morning with his side of the bed empty and a note that said his lawyers would contact me soon. No goodbye."

Johnny raised his palm and cupped the side of Simon's cheek. He just stared back with an intensity that made something stir low in his belly.

"I want to take you back to my house. Strip you of all your clothes, and lay you in my bed. Dismantle your thoughts until all your pretty brain can think about is me. I want you to go limp in my arms and beg me to stop. Do you want that, kid?"

Johnny could feel himself nodding desperately, mouth agape, before his mind could even catch up to his actions. He swallowed roughly, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Is this really happening?

"W-wait. Simon, Simon."

Simon was half dragging him out of the bar already but he slowed down to look at him. "What, pup? Something wrong?"

Pup. The word made his dick twitch in his pants but Johnny braved through, " Simon, are you sure? Like, absolutely sure?"

Simon scoffed. Poor boy doesn't know what he's getting into.

He tugs him further and leads him into the truck, wordlessly getting into the drivers seat. "I meant what I said. I'll make it good for you, kid, I promise. Is this what you want? Think about it, we've got the whole ride back."

Johnny nods and looks at his side profile as he drives them to his house. He wants this. He's tired of avoiding all physical contact because of the stupid voice in his brain- "you're not smart enough, you're not wanted, no one wants you, no one could want you". He knows Simon can make that go away, he can feel it in his bones. He knows his LT will take care of him. He feels braver than before and inches his fingers slowly over Simon's regulation khakis, almost palming his bulge.

"Behave."

One word, and Johnny freezes. He'd always been the perfect soldier, hanging onto his LTs voice. Not surprising that it would be the same outside the battlefield, too.

They reached the barracks in record time, Johnny almost breaking the seatbelt buckle in his eagerness. They reach Simon's door and Simon leads Johnny into the room. He's been here several times before but now? It feels like he's a newborn fawn stumbling into the world for the first time. He tries to be sexy and turns to look at Simon but he bumps his toe into the center table and curses, before deciding to just, sit his ass on the sofa and let Simon take the lead.

Simon observes the entire thing with a glint in his eyes, desire stirring low in his belly. He closes the gap between them and sits on the floor in between Johnny's open legs. He places both hands on his thighs, leans up close to his face, and he can almost see Soap's neurons short circuit at his proximity.

"You don't have to do this, lad. No hard feelings".

Johnny whines low in his throat and grabs Simon by the nape of his neck. He jerks forward and clumsily presses his lips onto Simon's, and they both groan at how right it feels. Simon lets him lead the pace, explore what feels good and what doesn't. His tongue wearily circles his own and Simon sucks on it gently, making Johnny gasp. His hands run themselves into that goddamn mohawk, scraping at the buzz cut and massaging the scalp there. Johnny all but melts under the watchful care of Simon, and almost forgets what he was actually here for. Well, until Simon used one hand to press into the bulge that's straining against his pants and Johnny gasps.

"Go to the bedroom, kid. Take off your clothes and wait for me, yeah? Can you do that?"

Johnny nods eagerly and all but sprints to the single bedroom, making Simon scoff out a laugh. He enters the bare room and frantically takes off his clothes, but something in the bedside table catches his eye.

A framed photo of Simon and another man, in front of the Sydney Opera House. Both had matching grins, and Simon looked a good ten years younger. They were wrapped in a tight embrace and looking at the camera like nothing else mattered, because it didn't. They had each other and everything would be okay.

"It's been quite some time, John." Simon's quiet voice seemed to echo in the tiny space and Johnny almost jumps. His broad biceps encircle around his waist completely and Simon rests his chin on Johnny's shoulder, inhaling at his neck. "Don't dwell on the past. I know I don't."

John turns around in his grasp and looks at him longingly. "I don't want to make this sappy, Lt, but I think I'm a bit scared".

Simon nods, as if he had already anticipated it. He knows, he always knows. He's his lieutenant, his leader, his friend. He'd know what he's thinking, what he's feeling before he even frames it in his head. Soap knows that, and he would leap from a cliff if it was what Simon wanted, only because he knows Simon would be on the other side to catch him.

"I want you to touch yourself for me. Can you do that? Can you show me how you make yourself feel good?"

Simon lays him down on the bed and kisses him so deeply it makes his breath stop in his chest. His tongue delves into Johnny's mouth as his hands grip his waist, his hips, palming everything he could get his hands on. He pulls away and a string of spit connects their lips. Johnny looks fucked out already and Simon feels his heart thud louder.

Johnny nods along with him, humming low in the back of his throat as he slips a hand over his dick- fuck, it was as hard as a rock already. He rubs the head with his palm as Simon drops his head low to watch his motions. Johnny continues pumping his hips into his closed fist, increasing the pace frantically and panics when he realises he's so, so close already. His precum was making the entire ordeal so sticky, and Simon's intense stare wasn't helping his case.

"Kid, slow down, come on, easy, baby. Yeah, that's it." Simon places his hand over Soap's and guides him into a slower, more languid pace. His head felt syrupy, his stomach cramping already with how hard he's clenched it. He doesn't think he'll last any longer when Simon bends down and licks his tip gingerly.

"Fuck, FUCK Si, I-" he grabs onto Simon's head with both hands and almost smothers him by shoving his entire length into his mouth. Simon doesn't even gag, that fucker, and starts sucking his cock, making it so sloppy, so loud, Johnny doesn't think he'll survive this. The sight is downright obscene- Drool drops down the side of his mouth and his lips form a tight suction as he bobs his head up and down and up and down and up -

"I think I'm comin- fuckfuckfuckfuck,"

Simon pushes him further into his throat just as he climaxes, and Johnny gets tears in his eyes at how well Simon's throat clenches his cockhead. He doesn't know how long he's coming for, but knows that Simon doesn't let up for one second, constantly licking and laving at his dick and working him through the orgasm right into the territory of sweet oversensitivity. He's about to push his head away when one of Simon's thick fingers circle his asshole, and Soap feels like he's ascended.

"Is this where you want me, little pup? Do you want me to stretch you open, fill you till you're leaking with my cum? You wanna cry tonight?"

Soap sobs in agreement, fisting the bedsheet and twisting his torso to escape the pleasure as Simon pops the lid of the lube and generously pours over his taint and shaft. He pumps a finger in cautiously, making Johnny's breath catch lightly, huffing out tiny breaths to regulate himself.

"Breathe, kid. That's it, you're doing so good for me. I'm gonna bend my fingers just so, yeah? Oh- oh, is that the spot? Yeah, baby? Is that your happy spot?"

Simon's fingers hook inside in a way that makes them hit his prostate so deliciously- Johnny screams and bows his entire body up off the bed. Simon has to use his other hand to keep him pinned down and chuckles, starting to pump even harder. His fingers stretch and fill him, making him pant like a dog in heat now. He thinks he's going to come again, but he's not sure that's anatomically possible.

"Si, please, I need you, oh, I need you inside me, I need your cock, pleasepleaseplease Simon, I can't come like this, I-"

"Okay, okay, baby, breathe, breathe, yeah, my good boy wants my cock? Huh? I'll give it to you, I'll give you anything, fuck."

He pours some extra lube over his dick while his other hand continues to fuck into Johnny's tight hole. He caresses his dick slowly, thoroughly coating every inch in the sticky lube and slowly notches himself right up against Soap's asshole.

Feeling the blunt head against himself makes Johnny zero in on the moment; as if everything's faded away and it's just him, and just Simon, and there's nothing in between. They don't need to say anything, don't need more reasons to delay, and Johnny nods once, his eyes tearing up slightly. Simon understands- he bends forward to interlace his hands with Soap's and kisses him so so sweetly as he pushes inside.

The moan that leaves Soap could only be described as pornographic, as he feels every inch, every ridge and every vein breach his virgin hole. He stutters into the kiss, almost babbling as Simon grits his teeth together and powers through the tight embrace.

"Holy shit, kid, you're so tight."

"You're so big, sir".

Simon grips the back of his neck tighter and slightly massages the skin there, making Soap melt and relax a bit further. The last inch was the most difficult, Simon's girth found it almost impossible to make his rim stretch further, the sight of it so perverse it made Simon's mouth water.

"Let me on top, sir. I can take it."

Simon didn't really have the energy or the will to argue and effortlessly switched positions such that Johnny was on top and his dick never even slipped out.

"Go easy, yeah? I don't want you to hurt yourself"

Johnny nods with newfound vigor and plants both his feet on the bed, giving Simon a show for the ages. He takes a deep breath and lets gravity do most of the work as he slams himself down the last inch, right upto the thick base of Simon's god like member.

"Holy fuck, kid. I told you to go easy." He admonishes, but there's no real bite in it.

Soap grins, and oh, there's my boy, Simon thinks, "Sorry Lt. I'll be, fuck, more careful".

He starts a decadent rhythm, making both of them roll their eyes and moan loudly, neighbours be damned. It feels like heaven, like coming home after a long day at work, like the first sip of water after a hangover.

He realises soon enough that bouncing on his cock feels better than the grinding, and this knowledge makes Simon grip onto his hips tighter to help him along. Soap has his head thrown back, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth and onto his chest, eyes rolled into his skull. Look so perfect, Simon thinks. My boy.

His pace gets harder and faster and Simon realises he's not going to last longer. "Come for me, Johnny. Paint me with your cum, baby."

His hips stutter as he releases a whorish moan, probably waking up the entire base as he climaxes all over Simon's chest, his belly, heck some even went up to his face. He holds onto Simon's arms that were around his hips and crashes his lips onto his. This sets Simon off as he pumps once, twice, and buries himself deep in his ass and comes hard. They're both shaking and groaning, the kiss sloppy with sweat and spit, and their orgasms melting into each other's.

After a long time, Johnny pulls apart and stares into Simon's eyes. Those big, beautiful eyes that made him feel like home. They were slightly dazed and not all coherent and Johnny just grins.

"Let's do that again, sir."

[em1i2a3]

hi, i just wanted to say that i absolutely love reading your work!! you are crazy talented omg. my only regret is that you don't seem to have an "about me" section. (unless i can't find it lol). i totally understand wanting to remain as anonymous as possible but i wish we knew more about the literature that inspires you, your hobbies, etc. i guess i'm just curious because you are a very distinct writer

but again, i completely understand if you want to focus on writing only!

also i know its hypocritical of me to send this anonymously LMAO, so so sorry

Hey there!

I do not have an ‘About Me’ section, not because I am seeking to stay anonymous, but more because I hate talking about myself lol (literally was working on this post since this morning).

But it seems like you guys want to get to know me a little more so I guess I’ll throw myself into the deep end here.

I go by Em on here (that’s a give in)

I’m 24 years old, and I’m currently working in the digital marketing sphere (I work from home), while pursing a Bachelor of Science degree. I also work on the side for my cities local paper and report on Concerts and Events going on around my area.

I’m in a band, I play bass and piano, and sometimes I do vocals but I’m often times stuffy from allergies lol.

Favourite Movies (Excluding Marvel and Marvel Actor’s movies cause that’s a give in that I like those ones and it would probably be a good chunk of my list if I included them lol): The Substance, Diabolique, Audition, Kill Bill Vol 1 and 2, Scott Pilgrim VS The World, Back to The Future 1 and 2, Alien (all of them basically lol), Any and All types of horror tbh, Amadeus (what a long ass movie but as a band kid it was so good)

Favourite Television Shows: I don’t watch much TV (Outer Range was really the closest I got with falling into a series and loving it…That and Twin Peaks!) when I do watch TV I technically just have it on in the background, my junk food for the brain is the entire 90 day Fiancé series (all of it…), it’s excessive drama gives me something to gasp at as I write lol

Favourite Bands: I made a top ten for this but I’ll write it here and add a bit, Deftones, Justice, Alice In Chains, Nine Inch Nails, The Breeders, Muse, Magdalena Bay, Bloc Party, Slowdive, My Bloody Valentine, Arctic Monkeys, Big Thief, Biffy Clyro, My Chemical Romance, and Silversun Pickups (there’s so many more but I would be here all day, it should give you an idea what I’m into tho!)

Favourite Foods/Drinks: Pizza, Sushi and Greek Food (literally hell yea) are my top foods, Blue Raspberry or Juneberry Redbull is my favourite drink aside from an iced americano (I take it black lol bitter as heck y’all)

Favourite Books: I really love Stephen King, sometimes he has some duds, but I still enjoy his stuff (Carrie, Salem’s Lot, Thinner, The Shining), Dune (the entire series…I gobbled that stuff up), Anything by Cormac McCarthy (Blood Meridian is hefty and it’s not for everyone but I liked it a lot), Anything by Nat Cassidy (Mary: An Awakening of Terror is so top tier to me, I loved it so much), I read a lot of Non-Fiction too though, lot’s of musician autobiographies, true crime stuff etc.

Hobbies/Interests: I write of course, I play the saxophone, I collect perfumes, I have 14 tattoos, I enjoy cooking, I knit and crochet terribly so I wouldn’t call it a hobby, I’d say it’s an interest lol, I take script writing classes every couple of months and love studying that stuff.

Hopefully that gives y’all a nice peek into my life and everyday things <3

[hikarielizabethbloom]

I really desperately (and I mean desperately) wanted Bronwyn as witch-king all throughout s1, so kudos on making it Eärien.

I can't take credit for the idea, only for the fic! 😂

I would be incredibly down with antis not doing the buzzwords thing when it comes to haladriel, so yeah. Let’s make this happen.

I've been saying this since the very beginning. But I feel the need to add a bit of context. (This will be long, but it needs to be written down for posterity.)

I was part of the trop fandom since before the show aired. Haladriel was already a thing during s1, and besides some hate (even though, I don't like using that word for trivial things) from incels, the fandom was really cool. We were all united against them, even if they would attack the shippers/ship.

Around S2, something changed. Suddenly, there were a lot of posts addressing not incels or antis, but everyone in the fandom who didn't share op(s) opinions, that said a lot awful (and frankly out of context because we are talking about dolls here) things. And the situation escalated pretty quickly because after episode 7 of season 2, they began to attack fans in their own lane for expressing different opinions. And it got so bad that a lot of shippers were scared to share their thoughts.

And I know many people actually believe what they're writing. Hell, I agree with some of it. But too often in every fandom, I see fans use big words not just to give themselves a tone, but also to prevent other people from speaking up. Because who wants to be accused of being anti-feminist or whatever (in the best-case scenario)?

Because you can't make a post on Tumblr, tag the show and write a 5000-word essay about how you're so smart and cool, a real feminist, and blablabla while others are ignorant misogynists who hate women, and then act surprised if fans get pissed.

And this is how this whole thing started. And since then, there was an escalation of feminism this, feminist that, you hate women, no, you hate women (with a lot of attacks towards my boy Celeborn and his fans tbf). Which I think is exactly what people who actually hate women want.

And also the constant demands, and this idea that just because YOU like something, then screw everybody else, that thing need to happen on screen. I'm sorry, but I grew up considering a TV show a shared experience, and I would never force others to be subjected to something I like but they don't, especially when it goes against the story's integrity.

I don't know about others, but I'm very chill. I don't consider people who don't like my ships (and express it) or even the show, antis or haters, because at the end of the day, we are talking about unserious matters.

Personally, I like Haladriel, and I've been shipping them since the very beginning. But I don't like this herd mentality. I like to think with my own head, and I don't care whether or not I'm part of the popular group. If there is something I don't agree with, I speak up. I never offend, not even when I'm provoked. And I never get personal. Never.

I'm always open to discussion. Actually, I love them when they are productive and done right.

"I find it necessary for Sauron to demand Galadriel in exchange for a ceasefire in a hypothetical siege of Imladris in S3. Gil Galad and Elrond would object, but Galadriel would give herself up on her own, and Sauron would try to seduce her in his camp tent, forcibly kissing her, and she would punch him splitting his lip. And if Sauron then displays her as a trophy and that turns out to be the first time Celeborn has seen his wife in years, I will be satisfied."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

do you think alhaitham is a yearner for kaveh or the other way around

Anon thank you so much for this ask <3 it turns out that this is more complicated than I thought. since alhaitham is so embarrassingly obvious, I think kaveh’s own version of ‘yearning’ can be overlooked, so thank you for giving me an opportunity to explore both! I am using your ask as an excuse to show how embarrassing alhaitham is, he has no shame!! therefore i've had to split this answer into two posts!

alhaitham essentially building his life around kaveh being a part of it is ultimate down bad behaviour:

the house: alhaitham’s character stories give us very little about alhaitham’s life after his fallout with kaveh and his graduation. we’re told that he moves out of his grandmother’s house to move into the research facility gifted to him and kaveh? and it’s only after he moves in that he’s told by a third-party that kaveh has no need for the property, so only then does he convert the property into a house

So it seems he moved in with some expectation of encountering kaveh at some point, especially considering it was their joint property. There’s no reason given why he opted to move out of his grandmother’s house but I think it's interesting that kaveh’s character stories detail that a house is not a home without other occupants who understand him without words, which causes him to sell his parents’ house as he was the only occupant, which parallels with alhaitham moving out of a house in which he also is the sole occupant, into a property which ties him and kaveh together

The bulletin boards/academic journals: although it isn’t specified who made the first journal critique, if it falls in line with alhaitham incessantly responding to all of kaveh’s bulletin board points, I’d like to think that alhaitham reached out first here, just as he moved into their joint property without actually knowing that kaveh had no use for it – although they had separated at this point, regardless of who reached out first, alhaitham was still actively pursuing kaveh’s perspective here, as this was the only instance of kaveh being in his life… oh….

during the archon quest: alhaitham mentioning kaveh without any prompt whatsoever lives in my head, even more so that this seems to be a musing that he didn’t even mean to say out loud? Sick!!

And when kaveh eventually returns, alhaitham says that he doesn’t want to have to explain the whole thing to kaveh, so he should leave the house of daena before kaveh returns, but he doesn’t?

Special mention of the gathering in the grand bazaar where alhaitham equates his own happiness to that of the people of the gathering, and then immediately mentions how he must have taken both keys leaving the house, indicating that another reason for his happiness increased because kaveh has returned, and that his way of life has been maintained - meaning that kaveh is one of his priorities (i brainrot more about this here)

Alhaitham’s story quest: the motif of kaveh ensuring alhaitham’s content is returned to with force in alhaitham’s story quest with establishing kaveh as someone alhaitham chooses not to be objective about, with kaveh being framed as alhaitham’s priority

(additionally, this expression, absolutely criminal)

kaveh’s hangout and voice lines: kaveh is shown once again to be an exception to alhaitham’s objectivity, as alhaitham inserts himself into kaveh’s ‘fate’ to offer him a place to stay when kaveh’s choices led him to selling his house, having no place to go – this overturns alhaitham’s principle of being uninvolved with people’s fates, and pulling kaveh back to shore, as opposed to standing on the sidelines

kaveh’s hangout is really special to me as it showcases alhaitham’s whole understanding of kaveh, not only his inner psyche, but also how to secure kaveh’s happiness through an indirect action, as kaveh’s heart meter increases once seeing the response a student wrote to his annotations, it demonstrates that alhaitham’s care towards kaveh is most explicitly shown with actions

a parade of providence: alhaitham becomes the event's commentator solely to investigate Sachin to see if he influenced kaveh’s father, attempting to give kaveh closure and alleviate his self-destructive mindset. in the same vein, alhaitham leaves kaveh note that in a language the two learnt together for their thesis commenting on kaveh's ideologies and how it can lead to suffering.

this really solidifies that alhaitham's care is demonstrated in actions, and that a shift in communication is needed to properly show this. It’s here that alhaitham’s actions are the most explicit, and this leads to the major improvement in their relationship (which i explore more in detail here)

cyno's second story quest: thank you for chronic book gripper alhaitham reading his book when kaveh is out of the living room, and immediately putting it down when kaveh enters and begins telling alhaitham about his day, for alhaitham to encourage.

the animation that was so essential for the devs to include of alhaitham watching kaveh sketch when kaveh’s back was turned is such a comic example of yearning, it’s actually ridiculous

also alhaitham smiling when being asked to stay in the house of daena to work with kaveh??

alhaitham is one big yearner, he is that guy and he has no interest in beating the allegations!

the second part of this answer will explore kaveh's version of yearning!

[causenessus]

hi! i'll keep this short

i came to the realization everytime i've disappeared from tumblr to "take a break" i never really have because of other things going on in my life (which, duh, this isn't my whole life) but! i also realized that if i never actually take the time to recover and rest and think about things i should be writing i'll never feel better. so! i'm (once again)(but now more formally) going on hiatus until maybe may! i might pop in for spring break or earlier if i feel like it, but until then, not really any writing from me! with that being said, i'll still be around, doting on my moots (i.e. like, dorothea <3 wyr <3 and bug <3) because i love them so much and i will probably also post chapters of present ever so often! the reason being (i'm going to try to make this make sense but it may only make sense to me but i'm aware of how contradicting i am to me five seconds ago when i said i need to take a break from writing) present is a very personal fic for me that i've worked on for years at this point. what i'm posting now are chapters i wrote months ago after I've read over and edited them (or in the case of the upcoming chapter, i did randomly add it in and had to write it from the ground up last week lmao) but if it isn't obvious, present is a work i'm very passionate about and am just posting in case anyone else enjoys it but it feels like it's a work that is very individualized just for me and it doesn't cause me any stress or anxiety. on the topic of individualization, although i am of course so so thankful for all of the support and people that follow me, i do sort of miss when my blog and world were a lot smaller. it's something i feel like i only get when i get to reply to people in comments, but other than that, all the numbers and people on my feed give me a lot of anxiety. the hq (smau fandom especially) fandom or at least how much i'm (was) involved in it has grown exponentially and of course i'm happy about that but it's a bit too much for me. i'll be taking a huge step back from the fandom and any hq works i've written at least in the meantime, but that's not to say they'll never be finished! but i either need to grow to handle the bigger audience that now reads my works or wait for things to grow a little smaller again :) i hope to still be able to read my moots works but forgive me if it takes me a bit or i never get to them! i think at the least i'll still like them to show my support <3 thank you if you read my long ramble! i love you all <3

oh also i'll probably post self ship moodboards and the beginning of my reading list (thank you again dorothea for the idea <3)! but again, I think you get the idea by now; I want to go back to doing this for me! so this is a tiny little goodbye now i'm leaving for you all with forehead kisses and flowers and love notes and mwah <3 i'll see you around!

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[whetstonefires]

#4 please !

Now see this could be tricky, because generally if I don't get some key elements written down very quickly the idea flows away again and the 'yet' disappears, even if I remember generally what it was about, but I have one this time! I am still just enough plagued by this vision that it's not out of the question I'll go for the capture, but so far nada.

Idea was basically a Jiang family character study by way of modern au. (So tw canonical abuse.) I started from the reflection, in a modern au very high chance the Jiangs are divorced, because being a divorcee wouldn't necessarily ruin Yu Ziyuan in the modern world, as long as she was allowed to control the narrative enough that she didn’t look at fault, so it might be on the table.

Especially because modern views on child abuse are such that while she'd hold back more than she already does in terms of physical chastisement, Jiang Fengmian would also be under less societal pressure to not interfere in her disciplinary system too much, and both these factors mean he’s more likely to put his foot down.

So, concept: Jiang Fengmian, when his son is eight and his daughter thirteen, forces the issue of taking in his best friends' abused orphan child whom he’s just managed to track down in a nightmarish group home, probably leveraging the fact that wherever their money comes from it's mostly his, something he usually doesn't do, but she has always known he could, and been fucked up about it (reasonable) and hated him a little (less so) and hates him so much more now (understandable but still fucked up).

They were obviously still both pressured into this marriage by their families, because I literally cannot imagine them choosing one another of their own free will, and if they did that would be an au in an even more dramatic way than being modern, and no longer work as a character or relationship study as far as I'm concerned. I mean or it’s a cql-based au, but that’s not the version of this toxic marriage I find compelling.

Situation subsequently deteriorates to the point that when the boys are around twelve some outside party observes and is repulsed or otherwise upset by Yu Ziyuan's treatment of Wei Wuxian specifically--she's emotionally abusive to everyone in the family, canonically, and it harms Jiang Cheng significantly more than Wei Wuxian, which I think is also pretty explicit on the page, but she's more openly antagonistic about going after wwx because he's basically a proxy for her husband, whom she doesn't consider to be someone she's capable of harming.

And ofc in a modern family scenario, being abusive to your foster kid is more plainly personal misconduct than being unfair in how you discipline one of your husband's many students, even if it is his favorite. Which means she's very unlikely to chase him around with a whip, but whatever she does do will sting that much more emotionally.

Anyway the outside judgement provokes a more explicit confrontation than the last four years of maneuver and attempting to balance all the competing needs according to two very different standards. And the upshot is that by the time wwx is 13, the Jiangs are divorced. To avoid making a humiliating spectacle of themselves they present a weirdly united front in court and have a very smooth uncontested proceding, although the closed meetings with their respective lawyers involved a lot of vitriol.

Yu Ziyuan, despite having a smallish trust fund and probably a job of some kind, though one that's more prestigious than profitable like uh. Olympic fencing coach. Idk what they make but it's probably not enormous. She and Cangse Sanren probably competed in the same events back in the day.

Anyway she gets a solid chunk of alimony, the house, and primary custody of both her children, although Jiang Yanli is almost 18 at this point so mostly she just gets Jiang Cheng. Everyone thinks Jiang Cheng wants it that way, including sort of Jiang Cheng; he has this idea that if he has his mom to himself they'll finally have a good relationship, even though he's also terrified of being left all alone with her. He's complicated. Families are complicated.

Also she would never have forgiven him if he hadn't concurred that he wanted to stay with his mother because she was the only one On His Side.

Jiang Yanli ofc does not move out right away when she comes of age, in part because her brother needs her, but she probably does go to college, so she's only around part-time.

Jiang Fengmian, meanwhile, keeps most of his financial assets and Wei Wuxian, and gets his kids on the weekends.

So that's all setup for how you have this situation where Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are entering high school--probably the same school, together, but no longer sharing the commute except maybe Monday mornings--and Wei Wuxian's primary residence is Jiang Cheng's dad's apartment.

It’s really chill. They get a cleaning service in once a week and eat a lot of delivery food, but they do cook at least once a week. The canonical thing where they largely agree about what’s funny and what’s right-or-wrong, and so forth, on the one hand really pops when there’s mostly no external conflict disrupting it, but also probably gains more complexity now that it’s not a thread of positivity fighting for its life against a background of drama. They get to know each other better than they ever had a chance to in canon.

Some of that isn't all that positive, because now they have the space to discover the places where they do actually have the capacity for friction, but both of them are very good at dispersing tension (I do tend to suspect jfm's dad was abusive he sure acts like it), and on the whole it's a good thing.

Jiang Cheng is going to have such a mental health crisis, and Jiang Fengmian is going to handle it so badly. Because of course when his son starts replicating his ex-wife's toxic attitudes and behaviors more now that she has primary custody, he’s going to feel guilty and like it’s His Fault, but he’s going to feel like it’s his fault that Jiang Cheng is growing up to be a shitty abusive person.

And even if he’d never say that the subtext would come through, in the assumptions he made when framing communications and so forth, as in canon, so the thing where Jiang Cheng’s father loves Wei Wuxian more than him, or at any rate likes him better and thinks he’s a better person and prefers his company, would wind up feeding into a self-reinforcing loop.

(Jin Zixuan's nasty public remark about Jiang Fengmian treating Wei Wuxian better than his own children hits Jiang Cheng significantly harder in this scenario, where he's being Tormented by the feeling that all his peers know his dad walked out on him for another son. Wei Wuxian's punch is therefore even more clearly primarily for Jiang Cheng's sake, although Jiang Cheng is probably more inclined to see it as being for his dad's. Jin Zixuan is about halfway between the Jiang kids' ages here, so he's a senior saying this shit to a sophomore.)

So that cycle builds to the point where Jiang Cheng would eventually have one of those rare moments where he resorts to actual violence, because his poisoned feelings are choking him so bad his rationality deserts him.

He’s not going to be nearly as close to actually murdering Wei Wuxian as he was in canon the night the Jiang Sect was massacred, because it’s a less extreme situation, but he still goes for the neck. So Jiang Fengmian is in his home office one Saturday about a year and a half into this new normal, and realizes the boys are fighting. He hears through the wall the accusation you stole my dad. He says to himself, well that’s terrible but interjecting myself into this situation would definitely make it worse.

Then he hears sounds of violence, and then an ominous abrupt silence, and updates that analysis.

And when he opens the door to the boys’ room, Wei Wuxian is being strangled. He’s not really resisting, which is because he’s made the call that that’s way more likely to get Jiang Cheng to snap out of it, and thinks it might make Jiang Cheng feel better to get it out of his system (because he does sort of feel like what Jiang Cheng is going through is all his fault, or at any rate is much worse as a result of decisions made for his sake) and is severely underestimating the dangers of choking, but looks to a third party like he’s already passed out and Jiang Cheng is still at it. Which is to say, it looks like a serious murder attempt on the brink of success.

So that sure made that situation worse!

So yeah that's my idea that I probably won't write but it sure has its teeth in me.

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[thejadearia]

Speaking of Shimazaki, I learned a lot about myself this week making these terrible memes so I could drop them in the discord chat as I made my friends watch MP100. What I learned was, I have a terrible sense of humor (actually I already knew that, I just didn't realize it was this bad) and that the only thing I enjoy more than watching Shimazaki kick ass, is Shimazaki getting his ass kicked. (I'll have more of these for next week when we get to Serizawa's stuff! Sorry!)

[suddencolds]

// personal

how strange it is to observe yourself changing

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Gambling Apocalypse Tenma AU

As I rewatch Kaiji I inevitably end up wanting to combine show I like with other show I like and stuffing fav characters into show. So here we are.

This was uh going to be a short summary type thing but I accidentally wrote a novella about it sorry

This AU starts off with a much more depressive Tenma. After Tobio's death, rather than immediately pour his grief into developing a robot version of his son, he recedes into himself, psychologically paralyzed, likely turning to alcohol to drown out his anguish.

His mental state is taken as an opportunity within the Ministry of Science to have him ejected from his position; Tenma was never the most well-liked director, and there were those with ambition to usurp him that would jump at the chance. Not that he especially cares in his state.

He's eventually dragged out of his stagnation by Ochanomizu - who, inadvertently, becomes the very catalyst pushing Tenma to develop a robot replacement to his child. This was not what he meant by encouraging Tenma to fill the void left by his son.

...But, well, he is no longer the director of the Ministry of Science. His access to limitless government funds and resources for "scientific research" has been cut off, and this is a project he cannot finance on his own. He can't ask Ochanomizu for help, but...interestingly...a representative of a certain shady organization known as the Teiai Corporation reaches out to him, offering to finance and support his project. A sane and well-minded Tenma might think better of it, but grieving and desperate, Tenma accepts their offer and is able to create a robot in the image of his beloved Tobio. For a while, there's joy in his life.

But the bill, as ever, comes due: Tenma must pay up, and the very resources that had been at his disposal will certainly ensure that he will, or else. Of course, he doesn't have the money; instead, he is given a choice. He can relinquish the robot Tobio in order to wipe out his debt - the child is a sophisticated and powerful robot, after all - or he can participate in a certain illicit event hosted by the Teiai Corporation.

It's nothing major...just a four-hour gambling cruise with a collection of desperate, damned souls that were also swept into debt with Teiai. The conditions are simple: Those who choose to participate are given a chance to clear their debts wholesale should they win. And should they lose...?

Well...no one really knows what happens to the losers seized by Teiai. It's said that they labour away their debts under Teiai's watchful eye and are freed once their work has covered their debts, though it's rumoured that most perish before they reclaim freedom.

There's only one answer Tenma can give, of course; he's not willing to lose Tobio again.

Thus is Tenma's debut into the Gambling Apocalypse, where he must become cutthroat in order to survive; if he wants to see his son again, he must make choices that will doom the hapless to miserable servitude, with a nonzero chance it ends in their death.

He survives the cruise, but of course, it was hardly enough to clear his debt; the cruise was never going to be the end of it. Teiai doesn't let go of its victims that easily. He will be called on again: this is a weight that hangs over him, all while he returns to his son Tobio. The same hands that have pushed innocents into hell must now be the hands that can embrace his child.

He wants to protect Tobio from the truth and enjoy what peaceful moments he's allowed with his son, but it's difficult. It's difficult to be the parent of a child who cannot understand the danger that looms ahead; this "happy" home is not to last. Tenma angers quickly and easily. He turns that anger onto Tobio.

As Teiai's games become more and more vicious and unrelenting, as his conscience holds onto the last vestiges of thread that remain, Tenma even threatens, once, to give the boy in: it would all end, then; the debt would be clear and no longer would he have to endure Tobio's childish annoyances, his ungratefulness.

The next time that Tenma is beckoned, Tobio takes matters into his own hands. He does understand, now; and he would have, if only Tenma had bothered to explain sooner. If it's a debt that needs clearing, he will work. He will help his father clear his debts however he can. Of course, it's difficult to find work as a child; but a circus troupe finds amusement in the idea of a child robot, and takes him in. He is whisked into a certainly unpleasant working situation, but he remembers his father, and what he must be enduring. Tobio, also, will endure.

When Tenma returns, Tobio is gone.

All that held Tenma back from becoming something monstrous has disappeared. All that kept him going has disappeared. When he is called upon by Teiai, there is no knowing what sort of person might come out the other end; whether a monster clawing his way to freedom regardless of what actions he must take, or a desolate husk surrendering defeat.

There is still a light, however dim: Found by Professor Ochanomizu and rescued from the circus, Tobio - now Atom - is able to shed light on the situation which Tenma took great pains to keep hidden from his old friend. With time running out, Ochanomizu and Atom must do what they can to save Tenma - from Teiai, and from himself.

-----

UHHH and that's a wrap!!!! I couldn't quite decide which way Tenma would go after hitting Rock Bottom in this AU, and tbh it would really depend on the kind of mental state he's in at the time. On the one hand I like the narrative of Ochanomizu and Tobio racing to prevent Tenma from crossing a line (actual outright murder probably) - or having to pull him back into humanity (and yknow, his ensuing penance)

But on the other hand having him get sent to Teiai Evil Hell Prison would be interesting because a) there's a lot of narrative potential having Tenma faced with what Teiai is doing with the people that lose the games and b) need him to decimate the foreman at chinchirorin Kaiji style

Tenma's whole character is definitely a much different guy in this AU, he starts off pretty sympathetic, the guy you wanna root for, he just ends up having an inverse character arc where he gets worse instead of better. His conflict with "Tobio" is also kind of reversed, less about being unsatisfied with Tobio as a son and more not being able to handle the fact that he probably has intense PTSD now and isnt capable of coping with it in a way conducive to being a parent (or like, coping at all)

Anyway that's gambling apocalypse tenma!!!

[crest-of-gautier]

thinking very hard about eggstra work for chill season, i just have the strangest feeling that it'll have a charger + blaster in the line-up and that it'll coincide with reload's release just to laugh at me....

[singsweetmelodies]

Hi there! Im still kind of new to f1 so please, can you share all the piarles deep lore with me? Like your favorite moments from them, the story of them growing up, etc. I have a burning need 🙏 ❤️

hiiii dearest anon! i am so sorry for the delay in replying - i saw this ask and immediately got SO freaking excited, because, well, piarles is my absolute OTP in this fandom, so of course i'd love to share all the details about them!!

i started working on a piarles lore post almost immediately, and that's when i realised... um, there is actually rather a lot of piarles lore. like, a lot. enough that i've been working on this post for over a week in-between work and irl stuff, and it's still not done??

so yeah.... 🙈 i just wanted to reply to you today and say that i have seen this ask and i am working on a piarles lore post for you ❤️😘 it's just taking quite a bit longer than i thought because of how much piarles lore there is. but rest assured, the post is definitely happening!! thank you SO much for asking, and for giving me the chance to embark on the most fun research project ever <3333

[deviousdiesel]

.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[uriwonu]

pretty, pity, pity (jww)

He loudly clears his throat. “So… you’re like a camgirl?”

You wince. “I prefer streamer with benefits, but yeah.”

the one where reader is a camgirl and asks her roommate to fuck her on stream.

౨ৎ roommate!wonwoo x cam girl! mc ౨ৎ w.c: 4.9k ౨ৎ genre: pwp. minors do not interact. ౨ৎ warnings: explicit content🔞, wonwoo's a little too good at playing pretend, also he's a little mean in this (during sex), sex on livestream, use of sir (like three times), mingyu is reader's friend, uhh i think that's it? please tell me if there's anything i missed im not good at this. ౨ৎ date posted: june 07, 2025 ౨ৎ notes: title from the song novacane by frank ocean! this is also my first fic on tumblr so please be nice to me i will cry okay. i haven't written fic in ages 😭 please come to my blog and hang out i want to make friends !! masterlist | inbox

“Hey, Wonwoo-yah,” you softly call, knuckles taping gently against his half-open door.

Wonwoo looks up from his desk, pausing his game and slipping his headphones down to hang around his neck. His brows lift in that quiet way he always greets you — surprised but gentle, like he’s glad you’re there. The light from the hallway outlines your silhouette, casting a soft glow behind you.

You step in slowly, hands twisted nervously in the sleeves of your oversized sweater. It's one of his, though you’ll never admit that out loud. Your fingers fidget in the fabric as you search for the right words.

Wonwoo tilts his head, “What’s up?” he asks gently prodding you to speak whatever is making you nervous.

You open your mouth, close it again, then finally manage, “I… have kind of a weird favor to ask.” You finally admit as you plop yourself down on his bed, grabbing one of his pillows to wrap your arms around it, a makeshift shield.

He leans back in his chair. “Yes.”

You blink, face contorting in astonishment. “You don’t even know what it is.”

He smiles, soft and sincere. “Doesn’t matter. I’d do anything for you.”

That makes your stomach flip, and you have to look away for a second. “That’s… really sweet. But you might want to hear it first. I need you to…” You suck in a breath and rush it all out: “Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Sorry?” he says, blinking like he didn’t hear you right.

You force yourself to slow down, squeezing his pillow for comfort — and not that you'd ever admit it, take a massive whiff of his cologne, something that always seems to calm you. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Wonwoo stares for a second, face blank in that quietly-processing-everything way of his. You can tell he’s trying to decide whether this is a prank, a cry for help, or some unspoken code he’s supposed to understand.

You let out a frustrated sigh and flop down on his bed, clutching his pillow tighter. “Okay. Context. Remember how I told you the pay from the studio isn’t amazing? Like, I love it, but it’s not really paying all my bills?”

Wonwoo nods, clearly still confused.

“Well, the pay is actually, really bad, like I don't make enough to cover my portion of the rent—”

Wonwoo cuts you off, “If you need me to pay more I can, it's really no problem, I just got a huge bonus for the—”

“No!” This time you interrupt, “I've got it covered, that's the point. I was complaining to a friend, and well she told me about this website…” Your words trail off giving Wonwoo a look like he's meant to use that big brain of his and fill in the blanks.

“You have a sugar daddy?” He guesses. God, for someone so smart he is also completely clueless.

“I'm a sex worker.” You admit, staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

There’s a very long silence. You wait for the judgment. The discomfort. Anything.

Wonwoo looks like he's trying to remember how to breathe,

“Uhm,” His voice is startlingly high when he speaks, in a way you've never heard, he clears his throat, “So someone you uhm…” you can see the tips of his ears going red, “had business with is being a creep so you need me to scare them off.”

You can't help the burst of laughter that bubbles out—Wonwoo? Intimidate anyone?

“No, no.” You shake you head, laughter still on your lips, “Look, I, I don't fuck any one. I'm a streamer, people pay to watch me, fuck myself, that is.”

You can feel the heat flushing to your face but at least Wonwoo isn't in better shape, the red has creeped its ways from the tips of his ears down his neck and touches his cheeks.

He loudly clears his throat. “So… you’re like a camgirl?”

You wince. “I prefer streamer with benefits, but yeah.”

“And… the fake boyfriend?”

You sigh, “I like started this false narrative around this boyfriend I had, so people wouldn't get too lost in the fantasy, because my friend shared all types of horror stories about doing this. And I guess I kind of just get myself off and tell them stories about this imaginary boyfriend I don't have and well on my last stream for reaching a fuckton of subscribers I said I'd do a request to the highest donation and well… they want my nonexistent boyfriend to fuck me. And I just, I can't ask anyone else because I can't even imagine how they would take it, like can you imagine if I asked Jihoon? That would be so embarassing. God, or Mingyu? He'd say yes but I don't think he's capable of having sex without catching feeli—

“I’ll do it.”

You slow down from your spiral, startled. “Really?”

Wonwoo nods, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Of course.”

౨ৎ

A few days later, you're at the kitchen table, half-draped over it in shame, while Mingyu sits across from you absolutely losing his mind.

“You—” he chokes out between wheezes, “you asked Wonwoo to fuck you. On camera. In front of an audience. I—god, I’m gonna pass out. This is the greatest day of my life.”

You groan into your arms. “Stop saying it like that.”

“Like what? Like the truth? Like the guy you’ve been crushing on since forever is going to dick you down live in front of thousands of horny strangers?”

“It’s not like that—”

“It is exactly like that,” he howls. “You asked your crush to clap you like a goddamn cymbal monkey for money. What is this, fanfiction?”

You glare at him, snatching the spoon from your tea and brandishing it like a knife. “I swear to god, if you don’t shut up, I will FaceTime Yuna right now and tell her exactly why you broke up with her.”

Mingyu pales instantly, hands in the air. “Okay. Truce. Fuck, Noona. Harsh.”

You slump back into your seat, pressing your fingers to your temples. “This sucks.”

“Correction,” he says smugly, “this is your origin story. You’ve been in love with him since he "fixed" your wifi, and now you're gonna get railed on stream by him. It's the slowest burn friends-to-lovers-to-livestream-fuck arc I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s not romantic,” you mutter, glaring into your cup like it might drown you.

“Really?” Mingyu raises a brow. “So you’re telling me you're going to let the guy you’ve been mentally undressing since 2022 fill you up on camera, and then what — fist bump and call it a night?”

You don’t answer.

He grins. “That’s what I thought.”

“…Shut the fuck up, Mingyu.”

౨ৎ

Friday.

Wonwoo walks into your room just as you're adjusting the camera angle and checking the lighting. He's wearing a simple black shirt, chain at his neck, hair slightly mussed like he just rolled out of bed looking unfairly perfect.

You swallow.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, then nods toward the bed. “You ready?”

Your heart is pounding. “Only if you are.”

He steps closer, eyes flicking over your outfit—an oversized sweater, one of his, and shorts so short you can barely see them—his Adam’s apple bobs slightly as he swallows.

“You look nice,” he says.

You force a laugh. “Thanks. You do too.”

That gets a real smile out of him, and your stomach flips.

You go live, and watch as the first messages roll in.

Your usuals, the ones who know you don't like to go right into.

You let yourself forget that Wonwoo's there as you fall into another version of yourself—slipping into the role like a second skin. Your eyes flicker across the screen reading the message until you find one worth responding to

tigersgaze: god i needed this, work deadlines are killing me. hope your week was better than mine.

“Aww, I'm sorry, tiger. I hope stream will help you relax.” You say leaning back, with the practiced ease of someone who's been doing this for ages.

angelface666: is this finally the stream where we meet the elusive boyfriend? mommyplease: show us your perfect tits please mommy? cumslut44: i like your sweater baby singledad95: please show me your cunt, i miss it so bad.

“Hmm, my boyfriend is here. Maybe if you're good I'll let you meet him.” There's an unspoken request in your words, and the viewers seem to get it clearly. The donations start flowing in.

You spentd a few more quiet moments just talking with your viewers, letting more people come in.

You glance to your left. He’s just out of frame, waiting. Calm. Cool. You reach out and tug him into view.

You know exactly the vision he looks on screen—his hair falls in his face, just brushing against the frames of his glasses, the sharp jawline. He sits beside you on the bed, one hand possessively on your thigh.

You watch as the chats roll in.

angelface666: oh. he's pretty. justherefory/n: god i know his dick is big. tigersgaze: i bet you look so pretty on him.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “You're right tiger, I do look pretty on him.”You slide closer to him, deliberately swinging a leg over his lap, your hips settling just against his. “They’ve been very curious about you,” you say it like it's a confession between lovers and not like it's your best friend simply playing a role.

Wonwoo’s fingers flex on your thigh. “I don't share well.” And you know he's playing his part but the truth in the statement makes you giggle, Wonwoo's never been good at sharing.

You shift your hips slightly in his lap, just enough friction to draw a sharp inhale from him.

You lean in, brushing lips against Wonwoo’s ear again.

“Ready to give them a show, baby?”

His reply?

A hand around your throat and a dangerous smile.

Wonwoo leans in. You tilt your head. And then his lips meet yours. It’s not for show. It’s not practiced.

It’s soft. Deep. Slow. Like he’s wanted to do this for a long time. You’re too breathless to keep pretending.

Your thighs clench involuntarily.

Wonwoo pulls back just far enough to brush his nose against yours. “Color?”

You blink, dazed. “Green,” you breathe.

He hums in approval, a low sound that rumbles in his chest and vibrates through you. His hand slips lower, fingers tracing the hem of your shorts, and your pulse spikes.

You look back at the chat to distract yourself.

facefucker29: hurry up and fuck already dirtywhitetee: i knew you'd look pretty with a hand around your throat y/nsdirtylittleslut: i want him to make a mess of you mommyplease: that should be me mommy i'd treat your so well

You gasp a little when his hand sneaks beneath the fabric and settles possessively on your thigh. He doesn’t move further — not yet — but the message is clear: mine.

He leans in again, lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re doing so well for me,” he whispers, just loud enough for the mic to catch. “You want me to keep going?”

You nod. Then realize they can’t see that, and breathe out, “Yes. Please.”

His laugh is low and dark. “Then beg.”

The room spins. You forgot you asked for this. You forgot you wanted him to play rough — like the dominant boyfriend your viewers fantasized about. You forgot that Wonwoo could look at you like that — hooded gaze, parted lips, one hand gripping your thigh, the other loose around your neck like he owns every inch of you.

“I said—” his voice dips, something low that has you clenching around nothing, his grip on your throat just the slightest bit tighter, “—beg.”

You almost forget the camera is even there.

“Please, Wonwoo,” you whisper, and it’s more than a performance now. “Touch me. I need you to.”

He pats your thigh gently. “Good girl.”

The words hit you like a freight train. You whimper, openly this time.

Your eyes shift back to the chat again, trying not to get lost in him—a small part of you fears it's already too late.

singledad65: i knew you'd make such a pretty sub. what a pretty mess already

tigersgaze: fuck i'm so hard already. wanna see you choking on his cock baby.

mommyplease: mommy show us your tits please please please i'm so hard.

Wonwoo shifts slightly, demanding your attention, enough for his knee to knock your legs apart, spreading them just enough for the camera to catch view of the blooming wet spot on your cotton shorts.

You feel dizzy. You’re wet — obviously, hopelessly wet — and every part of you is pulsing, aching, desperate for more. You don’t even care about the stream anymore. You only care about him.

And then, without warning, he grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head, pushing you back onto the bed.

It’s not rough — not really. Just firm enough to make your whole body light up.

“Keep your hands right there,” he says, voice like velvet-wrapped steel. “Let me take care of you.”

You nod helplessly. “Yes, Won-.” you gulp stopping yourself from saying his name aloud. You never discussed if he was okay with his name being used on stream.

He kisses down your neck, slow and deliberate, pausing just above your collarbone as his fingers graze the curve of your waist.

You can't imagine how you must look on camera right now, the image of you splayed out just for him. You almost whimper at the thought, your hips rolling up to chase friction.

But before anything else can happen, he pauses.

Pulls back just slightly. Meets your eyes.

“This okay?” he asks, quietly this time. “You sure?”

Your heart clenches.

God. Even now, with your legs spread and your body shaking and the camera still rolling, he’s checking in.

“I’m sure,” you whisper. “I trust you.”

His smile is soft. And just like that, you're ruined all over again.

“Good.” Wonwoo kisses you again — deep, filthy, and completely in control.

Your hands twitch against the pillow beneath your head, instinct screaming at you to touch him, to grab his shoulders, tangle your fingers in his hair, something — but but the larger part of you is begging you to listen, to be rewarded for being a good girl.

“You stay right there,” he murmurs. “You take what I give you.”

You nod, panting. “Yes, W-sir.”

His free hand slides slowly beneath the hem of your sweater, palm splaying flat over your stomach. He doesn’t move higher. Not yet. He waits — lets the silence stretch until your back arches off the mattress and your hips squirm beneath him.

And then he laughs, low and mean. Almost cruel, if not for the affection in his eyes.

“You’re already so needy,” he taunts. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip. You suck it in instinctively and the growl that slips from his throat makes your thighs clamp together.

He sees it. Of course he does.

"Open."

You do. Without question.

He pushes his thumb between your lips, slow and steady, eyes fixed on your face the whole time. You swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you suck, and the flash in his eyes makes your whole body light up like a warning sign.

He pulls his thumb free with a wet pop, then brings it down between your legs, slipping it just inside the waistband of your shorts — not enough to touch you, but enough to make your hips buck toward him.

"You're gonna be good and cum for me like this," he murmurs. "Still wearing your pretty little shorts. Think you can do that?"

“I—yeah,” you pant. “I can.”

“Good girl.”

The two words hit harder than any touch. Your whole body clenches at the sound of it. He starts to rub, slow firm circles over your panties, and your head drops back against the bed.

You’re so wet it’s humiliating. You can feel the damp fabric clinging to you, feel the friction sparking with every motion of his fingers — and you dig your nails into into your palms to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

You’re moaning now, high and choked, not even bothering to hold it in. You can’t. His voice, his hand, his weight on top of yo —it’s all too much.

“Keep your hands up,” he growls, and there’s no mistaking the real edge in his voice now. “You want to cum? You earn it.”

You nod, frantic. “Yes, yes, please—”

“You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

“Sir—!”

He presses harder. You cry out, thighs trembling, hips jerking uselessly as he works you faster. Your breathing is ragged. You’re so close it hurts.

And then—

He stops.

Your eyes fly open.

“Wonwoo—!” You cry out in shock, not even pausing to think about using his name, the nager clear in your tone.

“Shh,” he soothes, lips brushing your cheek. “You’ll get it. But first…”

His hands slip beneath your sweater, and this time he doesn't hesitate. He pushes it up, exposing your bare chest to the camera.

You had honestly forgotten about the stream—about the chat, and clearly they had noticed. Your eyes rake the comments:

singledad95: poor baby she's gone already dacefucker69: fuck i'm gonna cum. mommyplease: thank you daddy, look at mommy's perfect tits. can i cum please? tigersgaze: god i think she forgot about us, but i don't care you look so good like this baby

You gasp. You should feel embarrassed, but you’re so deep into this you don’t even care. You just want his hands back on you.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares. His lips part slightly. There’s something reverent in the way his gaze drags across your skin.

Then he looks up — into the lens. Into the eyes of everyone watching.

“She’s mine,” he says, voice low and lethal. “You can look, but you don’t get to touch. Ever.”

Then he looks down again, and he smiles — slow, devastating, like a man who knows exactly how fucked you are.

“Now beg again, baby. Real pretty for the camera.”

You choke on your own breath.

“Please, Wonwoo,” you whisper. “I need to cum. I—I need you so bad, please, I’ll be good, I swear.”

His hand slips back between your legs.

And this time, he doesn’t stop.

You don’t know if you’re begging in words anymore or just making sounds — the kind of half-choked whines you never thought would leave your mouth outside of your most desperate dreams.

And he’s still touching you, still working tight, devastating circles against your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties. Your hips buck wildly beneath him, your legs trying to close, but his free hand pins your thigh open with ease.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs. “You wanted to cum so bad—so do it. Cum for me, just like this. Let them all watch how sweet you sound when I ruin you.”

You gasp, a high-pitched sob, and your fingers claw into the sheets beside your head, straining to obey his earlier command to keep your hands to yourself. You're on fire, every muscle drawn tight and twitching, a livewire underneath his touch.

“You're so wet," Wonwoo growls. "You really were gonna cum for me in your shorts like a little slut, huh?”

Your whimper is confirmation enough. Your body is spiraling out of your control now.

And then he leans in — mouth brushing your ear, voice so low it’s filthy.

“I'm not even inside you yet and you're already a fucking mess.”

Something in you snaps.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as your orgasm slams into you. Your thighs shake, your breath catches, and your entire body locks up beneath him as he works you through it, never slowing down — rubbing mercilessly until you’re twitching and gasping and trying to twist away from his hand.

But he doesn’t let you go.

“Oh no, no, baby,” he coos, voice suddenly cruel again, deceptively sweet. “You can cum more than that.”

“Wonwoo—” you plead, voice broken.

“You’re gonna cum again. For them,” he says, nodding toward the camera, “and for me.”

Your body is oversensitive now but his hand doesn’t stop. It changes. Slower now, deeper pressure, coaxing you through the aftershocks.

You try to speak. It’s just a stuttering, useless gasp of air.

“Come on,” he says gently now. “One more. Be good.”

And then he bites you, open mouth, right over your collarbone, and that's all it takes for you to fall apart.

The second orgasm crashes over you before you’re fully recovered from the first. It drags a low moan from your lips this time, ragged and raw, and you sob out his name like a prayer as your body convulses underneath him.

Your vision goes blurry for a second.

The only thing anchoring you is the press of his hand between your thighs and the sound of his voice — murmuring quiet praises you’re barely coherent enough to understand.

“Just like that. That’s my girl.”

And you're just coming down from the last waves of your orgasm when Wonwoo shifts you, until you're once again his lap, laying with your back against to his chest, your legs hooked on both sides of his thighs, he pushes your shorts down and off. He removes your sweater too, you're completely bare, body flushed and looking all too fucked out and he hasn't even fucked you yet. Exposed and bare on his till clothed form.

You don’t even notice the camera at first.

He turns his gaze to the camera and smiles. He smirks, really — eyes heavy-lidded, lazy with satisfaction.

You're too fucked out to really pay attention, he says, “If you want more, you know what to do.”

The dings of incoming donations flood the room, one after another until Wonwoo is seemingly satisfied.

He trails a finger up your thigh, playing with your dripping pussy. He looks at the chat for confirmation, you try to, too, eyes still unfocused from pleasure as his fingers tease your core.

“You're so dirty baby, I haven't even got my fingers in you yet and you're dripping.” A sharp whine leaves your lips at his words. His finger teases your opening, before pulling away to brush lightly against your abused clit.

"Tell me, what do you want? Do you want me to touch you here?" He pauses, his breath warm on your skin as he whispers near in your ear, "Or maybe somewhere else?"

His hand slowly moves upwards, caressing your stomach, then higher to cup one of your breasts. He squeezes softly, feeling the weight and shape of it in his palm, brushing a finger against a peaked nipple. “Use your words, baby.”

“Wonwoo,” You whine, rocking your hips softly, feeling his cock, thick and hard beneath you, you feel oh so empty, “Please.”

Wonwoo slowly pushes a finger inside you, he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he continues to place gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone. "Mmm, so tight," he murmurs, slowly pumping his finger in and out, building a steady rhythm.

With his free hand, he reaches up to tangle his fingers in your hair, and pulls, hard enough to sting. He trails his lips over the sensitive skin, nipping and sucking gently as he works another finger into your slick heat, stretching you out.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, his voice rough with need. "Do you like having my fingers inside you, stretching you open?"

You nod, mouth open in a moan—you're so lost in your own world, in the pleasure, it's easy to forget that this is all for show, that this moment is just an act and Wonwoo isn't yours. But in this moment he is.

“More, please.” You whine rocking your hips, simultaneously grinding down on his clothed cock and against his fingers inside you.

His fingers fuck into you with a purpose until—“Ahhh” you moan, shaking, when he pushes against your g-spot with a determined persistence.

His eyes go sharp again as he stares down the camera, he's staking his claim. You're his.

“What do you think? Should I make her cum again like this?” He asks, a smirk on his lips as he stills his hand, you rock your hips shamelessly chasinging your release.

“Wonwoo please please please please please.” A litany of pleas leave your lips, tears nearly forming in your eyes. You're so close you can taste it.

“Don't ask me, baby.” He chuckles low and deep, unbelievably sexy. “Ask them.”

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the viewfinder, fucked out, a mess, eyes heavy lidded. You look debauched, and pretty.

“I want to cum,” Your voice is raw from all the moaning, your lips are plump from biting on them, you look the very essence of sin, “please.”

The chat explodes with tips and that seems to be enough for Wonwoo.

He kisses you like he owns you.

And maybe, in this moment, he does. The way he’s touching you says it — the way he’s holding your hips down, dragging his fingers up your thigh, says it. You can feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance — you hadn't even noticed he'd pulled it out of his sweatpants, and it’s not even in yet but your body is already begging.

“Ready?” he murmurs low against your throat, lips brushing your skin like a tease.

You nod, wordless. Already wrecked, slick and throbbing under him, your thighs trembling with every shallow breath.

“Words,” he reminds you, and you feel the tip press just slightly inside.

“Yes. Yes, Wonwoo, please.”

He groans like he’s been waiting to hear that all night. “Good girl.”

And then he pushes in.

Your gasp catches high in your throat, nails clawing at the sheets beneath you as he splits you open, inch by inch, his hips slow and deliberate. He’s thick, the stretch almost too much—almost, but then he bottoms out, presses flush against your body, and you swear you see white.

Wonwoo pauses there, buried inside you. His voice is a low growl when he speaks.

“Let them see you like this,” he says, staring down the camera with a smirk. “Stuffed full of me.”

You don’t even care that they’re watching. Not when he starts to move.

His thrusts are deep from the start, slow at first, but with that tight rhythm that makes your brain melt. One of his hand wraps around your throat, thumb resting just under your jaw, and the contact makes your whole body tense beneath him. The other steady on your hip, moving you like a ragdoll, his personal fuck toy as he lifts you up and down on his lap, meeting his every thrust.

“You like that?” he says, almost mockingly sweet. “Getting fucked in front of a live audience?”

“Wonwoo—” you gasp, already spiraling.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises. “Look at that. So tight. So fucking wet.”

Each thrust punches a little sound out of you, his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over, and when he pulls your hips down to meet his, the slick slap of skin echoes off the walls. You don't even try to stop the sounds falling from your lips anymore—you're beyond pride, beyond shame.

“Gonna cum already?” he teases, kissing along your jaw, grinding deep. “Not even halfway done with you, baby.”

“I—I can’t—” you whimper.

“Yes, you can,” he growls. “You’re gonna cum around my cock like a good girl.”

The orgasm builds fast, your body tight, trembling, every muscle locking up as you struggle to hold back. But his voice is right in your ear, coaxing you through it.

“Let them watch you fall apart for me,” he whispers. “Now. Be good. Cum.”

You shatter.

It’s too much. Your vision goes white, your body clamps tight around him, and your orgasm tears through you like a storm. You cry out, maybe even sob his name, but it’s all blurred in the wave of pleasure. You can’t think, can’t breathe.

Wonwoo groans low in his throat as you tighten around him, and it’s like a switch flips. His hips snap into yours harder now, faster. His grip on your throat tightens as he chases his own release.

“You feel too fucking good,” he hisses, fucking into you like he’s about to lose control. “So perfect. Gonna cum inside you. Fill you up. You want that?”

You nod frantically, barely coherent, and that’s all he needs.

He slams in once more and holds there, hips pressed hard against you as his body trembles, his breath catching in a deep, guttural groan. You feel the heat of it, the way he pulses inside you, and it only makes your body twitch around him again.

Silence.

Except for your ragged breathing, the camera still rolling in the background, and the sound of his heartbeat thudding against your chest.

Wonwoo finally exhales.

He gently eases out of you, hand trailing softly down your thigh, and your body gives a full-body twitch—overstimulated and still shaking.

Your eyes meet his, no teasing now. Just something real.

The camera light is still on.

He gives it a final look, then leans forward, and with the same casual dominance as before, clicks it off.

Then he looks back down at you. Smirking. But softer now.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod.

But your voice is hoarse when you whisper back, “Yeah. But that didn’t feel fake.”

He just brushes the damp hair from your cheek and says, “Because it wasn’t.”