#and everyone i know irl is staying local i’m the only one who’s leaving. one irl friend is going to the same school as me but we had a fight

[arthur-r]

tonight is my last night sleeping in my bed. possibly for the rest of my life. and my last time in my room possibly for the rest of my life. and i want to just get a good night’s sleep to be ready for a long day tomorrow but it’s really not working out like that.

[the1975attheirverybest]

People are really confused why they cancelled Taipei considering they don’t have laws like Malaysia and Indonesia, I’m seeing a lot of speculation about their safety, but they stayed in Malaysia until 4am and boarded a flight to Singapore at 5:30am. I think they’re good, he probably wouldn’t be posting on his IG story like that if they weren’t. Realistically, the worst that would happen is them being banned, which they were. 

They were most likely advised to back out of Jakarta, it wouldn’t be safe. The online reaction from Indonesian people said that much, so I’m sure it was a real concern IRL. Some local fans claim the band was getting bomb threats and death threats. Taipei is probably logistics. I read that their equipment didn’t leave at the same time they did, and when it did leave the country it was shipped back to the UK. 

Oh well. So proud of them, whether or not people agree with what they did, it made an impact. 

You know what? I think we’ll find out in due time. If the past few months have taught us anything, it’s that the guys will always be as transparent as possible. Matty especially. But we need to trust them and have faith. Everyone was bunching their panties about the podcast, and he eventually apologized onstage (before the Taylor stuff, before the Rina stuff, etc). Then, AGAIN, when the swifties came for his ass, I had people in my askbox like “I DEMAND an apology. Not only an apology but a written one.” Someone even said some shit about how people who speak English as a second language were misunderstanding him and he needs to do it in multiple languages (as if language to language translation isn’t a thing?????). Then, he waited, at Finsbury , he said what he wanted to say.

That’s how Matty operates. He doesn’t like reactionary bullshit. And he doesn’t like for his hand to be forced. He’ll think about it, when when he’s ready, he’ll let us know what’s going on. This might be at their next show, or it might be in a month or two or three. Who knows. But the guys have always been true to their word. There’s no reason to think that they’re taking this lightly at all.

[astorinx-writes]

Describing and Reflecting On My (Almost) 11 Years As An AB Fan

Like most times in my life, I find myself lost in thought about the many things that make me who I am. All the special interests I’ve picked up over the years, many of which have come and gone. But at least one of them has stayed: my ever present love for Astro Boy. So, I thought, as I turn a year older, I would talk a bit about what’s brought me here today as an AB fan, and get a little introspective.

It’s funny when I mention my beginnings as a fan because I wasn’t initially much of a fan at all. I remember coming off the heels of what was arguably the most confusing time of my life: my parent's divorce, and being relegated to only seeing my dad a couple of times a week. In October, one of those days was spent heading to the local movie theater to watch the 2009 movie. Before this, I had no exposure to AB. But if my memory serves me right, I think our whole reason for going had more to do with my dad’s nostalgia for (presumably) the 80s series than anything else.

Again, there wasn’t anything that stood out to me in particular about the film. But I should say for the record, if you read my first-ever blog post here wherein I reviewed the 09 movie, you’ll know it’s grown on me quite a bit. Not to the point where I would ever consider it a favorite of mines, but certainly enough to respect it for what it was, and what it served in my journey as an AB fan. No matter what I think about the film now, or what I thought about it back then, it was truly at the time my only exposure to the franchise.

So, I leave the film and think it’s okay, I move on with my life and sink my teeth in other things. But my brother, on the other hand, seems to like this far more than I probably thought I ever would. I mean the amount of AB merch that had come out at the time! You had the toys at McDonald’s, I believe some toys at Toys-R-Us… I mean the movie bombed, don’t get me wrong, but for a split second, I was seeing AB everywhere in my house, and it was a nonstop talking point between us and my dad. I have to give him credit, though, if it weren’t for his persistence in finding out more about the franchise, I might’ve just shrugged at the movie and called it a day. But sadly, when I say “he found out more about the franchise” I really mean is “he saw YTPs of the 80s series on YouTube.”

Speaking of the 80s series, this is actually where his door closes, and mines opens up just ever so slightly to test the waters. I can’t say exactly how it all panned out because my memory is far too spotty for that. But, to make a long story short, I found myself curious about the AB world again and, after having seen the 80s series, I wanted to give it another try. Now, at the time, there wasn’t really any “way” in and of itself to watch the 80s series, unless you owned physical media. It was a weird time because streaming was in this sort of infancy stage where nobody pirated anything because Netflix was king. But if you wanted anime… well… you’d have to watch every episode in 3 parts on YouTube like everyone else, bud.

Funny enough, during that endeavor, I managed to watch just about every 80s episode, and I have not seen the 80s series since. I’m not sure when I’m going to break the streak and rewatch it, but I see it as more of an internal joke that I perpetually keep up for the lolz. At the time, though, my reasoning for not going back was actually because the channel I was watching from got taken down, and nobody else seemed to have an archive. Certainly though in the year of our lord 2022, where even the 60s series can be watched on streaming services, I think I’m just purposely skipping out.

That was back in 2012, a year later, I had an exposure to something a little different. You see at the time, I was in 6th grade, and I had a homeroom teacher who was a stickler for us reading during homeroom time. Now, when I was younger, I did read a lot, but by 6th grade I had mostly stopped (probably due to IRL stuff, but who knows?). So, I was basically relegated to reading almost anything from way back when that I could get my hands on at home. In comes my local library to the rescue! When I went over there for the first time, I was curious as to what the odds would be that any Manga volume was there. And luck be damned, I found a couple at the last minute. Now, I didn’t want to completely suck them dry of their manga supply, so I only checked out 2. But I soon realized that was a bad idea, since it turned out that I read graphic novels at lightning speed. I finished both of them rather quickly and had to read them over and over again for both homeroom and during P.E. attendance for a few weeks.

Briefly, I’ll talk about how I got into the 03 series. Initially, the 03 series was available on Netflix, and despite my initial thoughts on its art style, I decided to give it a try. Again, I wasn’t thinking too much of it at the time, but after the 2nd re-watch, I was sold. And when I mean sold, I mean I dropped every other rendition for that one. I also mean when I refer to or speak of anything AB related, I am 10 times out of 10 talking about the 03 English dub, and nothing else (except any of my fan fics or AUs). Nowadays, though, when I want to watch the 03 series, I have the dubbed version on DVDs that I’ve backed up digitally onto an external drive, so I just plug the drive in and go from there. This is also where I get all my screenshots for edits, and for my screenshot archive.

You’ll notice that for the most part, I’ve been talking about more IRL events rather than online stuff. And that’s mostly because me becoming the AB fan I am today didn’t really kick into gear until around 2015/2016-ish when I joined Tumblr. But before that, I did something a little similar… I wrote fan fiction. Or rather, my now partner and I did. But before she jumped on board, it was just me. Again, with no one to look after me or express any concern, I found myself on FFN reading… well… let’s just say… things someone at the age of 12… probably shouldn’t have. I read plenty of problematic works by problematic writers, and it inspired me to want to give it a try myself. After all, I did like writing— though like reading, I did give it up. I think at that point; however, I was so enamored and inspired, I let it all go and just jumped right into it.

The first fic I wrote, “Zoran vs. Uran,” served (technically) as the starting point to what would become my fan fic series Vivid Insomnia. But at the time was an arguably silly fic that never got finished because even past Sage knew it was horrible. The basic premise was based on the fact that in the 03 dub, Uran’s name was changed to Zoran, but I thought it would be interesting to write a fic in which Uran and Zoran are 2 separate characters. So, the plot basically surrounds Tenma creating Zoran and sending her off to live with O’shay. It was called “Zoran vs. Uran” (simply) because the “major bombshell” to be revealed was that Zoran and Astro are related (a shocker, I know /s). So, apparently Astro was supposed to finally gave a shit about her, which pisses Uran off and makes her incredibly jealous (something we can all relate to, I’m sure /s). Therefore, as a result, Uran and Zoran were gonna duke it out WWE style.

I legitimately have no words.

I’ll spare you all the tiny details, and move on to the short stories I did. After attempting to write a couple of fics and letting my anxiety consume me, I took a break from writing for a while, but found a way back in through writing short stories. Again, if V.I. was clay, then these short stories were helping it be molded into the shape it was set to become. Some of this information does overlap with my last post, so if you would like to learn more about the fan fictions I’ve written, you can check that out. The only thing you need to know is that after those short stories, I wrote my first long fiction in a while, called “Astro, Oh Astro, Where Did You Go?” It was by far my most em tonally gruesome fic at the time. It really paved the way for where I wanted to take V.I. and I think ultimately made me realize that I like writing about the emotional and mental perils of life, and what it takes to dig oneself out.

The entire premise was that after sleeping over at a friend's house, Astro decides to run away, leaving everyone to wonder where they went. By modern standards, this fic is a hot steaming plate of garbage, but at the time it was (again) the deepest thing I had ever written. Mostly with Astro’s portrayal-—I know many associate them with being childish and happy-go-lucky, and I do still agree with that sentiment. But during that fic, and certainly now, I find myself seeing them as a much sadder character. I won’t get into why exactly right now, so we’ll leave it at that. But in this fic, it should be noted that Astro’s entire persona surrounded how utterly depressed they were.

Moving on from fan fictions, I’m a freshman in high school who just left Google + because Tumblr lets you customize your desktop blog, and G+ doesn’t. This is also around the time that I had given up on my dream of being an animator because I would’ve honestly rather shot myself in the foot than do any sort of sketchbook doodle ever. You’ll notice I haven’t spoken about any fan art  I’ve done, and that’s mostly because I feel it would be pointless, since it didn’t lead to anything but heartache and irrational anger on my part. Instead, I decided to be a graphic designer because at the time, I liked downloading fonts from dafont.com and making fan works for Vivid Insomnia in a way that didn't involve drawing. Funny how everything that makes me a modern-day AB fan comes back more to V.I. than anything else… haha.

So with my Shadows Into The Light II, and Bebas Neue, I slapped the worlds #edgiest quotes (or song lyrics!) onto 03 series screenshots in Photoshop. And that’s basically how my design hobby (as it pertains to AB) started. I dabbled in other mediums, like videos and GIFs, but I would wager that today, design is my strongest suit, and it’s what I do the most of.

Years went by, I wrote more, designed more, started uploading videos a tiny bit more. And since I want to keep this post lighthearted and less focused on psychoanalyzing myself, we're going to skip over the many times I said something stupid and let my jealousy and low emotional intelligence get the best of me. Let’s just say… I learned a bit more about my place as a fan in this fandom, and also how not to interact with people, basically.

By the time I graduated from high school, I was ready to move on from this fandom, actually. Impostor syndrome ever so fragrant, I thought “AB isn’t serious?! I need to be serious now! I’m a real designer!” So, I gave it up for exactly a couple of months before I went back to my shipping retro bullshit, and before I knew it, I was essentially back where I started: An Astro Boy Fan on Tungle Dot Org. It was at this point though that I realized, if I wasn’t going to quit being in the AB fandom, the least I can do is polish myself up a bit. I haven’t mentioned any of my past usernames, but when this was all happening, I was Astro.png- a name I made as an inside joke because I export all of my static designs as PNGs. When I decided to “get serious”, I changed my name to Astorinx (yes, ASTORinx, not ASTROrinx, common mistake, I understand). This coincided with the change of my main design brand to Thylio Design, and also a personal change of name too (don’t you just love when your personal branding finally catches up to your gender changes too?)

Here, to close this out, I can finally touch on my “Astro is a sad character” point I was making earlier. Originally, when I switched to being Astorinx, I hadn’t intended for the blog to take a mental health/psychology skew topic wise. You’ll notice a lot of my works throughout the years have mostly been observational. I am simply making works based on how I interpret Astro’s character. But even then, as I look back, I realize that even then, my works weren’t taking place within canon. Rather, they were post canon. Because I’ve always found myself to think and believe that while Astro canonically was quite happy-go-lucky, their circumstances and life events told an entirely different story. No matter what you assume, at some point, you’re bound to realize that those events and whatnot, are going to catch up to them. I think in my personal quest to learn more about myself through the world of psychology, it has led me to look into the minds of some of these characters to ask an ample number of questions: What does it look like when this character is at their best? What does it take to get there? Or what about their worst— where are their faults, and why?

As time went on, I started to embrace a story line that was beginning to come about in my works, most exemplified by my “I Need To Forgive My Inner Child And Tell Them It’s Okay” piece. The story is this: Astro is an older and wiser adult whom, after going through and making great strides in therapy, looks back at the actions/thoughts/feelings of their younger self. Contrary to feeling regret, anger, or embarrassment for whom they once were, they look at their younger self with an immense sense of compassion. Like a warm blanket on a frigid night, they give their younger self a hug and say, “It’s okay. I totally get you, and I wish you well.”

Though not all of my works fit this narrative, especially when I make designs for characters besides Astro, for the most part, you can assume in some way, shape, or form, it’s relevant. What I’ve also realized, too, is that there’s a lot of people who find solace in my designs messaging. I recently even got asked to do a design supporting neurodivergency! While I will never claim to be a psych or mental health expert in any way unless or until I get an actual degree, it does make me happy that people are taking to my works in such a way. Over the years, I’ve become such a proponent for seeing people be the best version of themselves as possible. And while I wasn’t initially intending for my posts to be for the masses (thematically speaking), I’m glad Astro’s introspection's about who they were canonically have helped others do some reflecting of their own.

So, that’s now, but what’s next? Well, as I mentioned in my fan fiction post, I still have a lot more to write. And of course, I will always have plenty to design, even if there are considerable breaks in between due to burnout. In terms of videos, I have a few AMV ideas cooking currently, it’s just a matter of when I’m going to shake off the nerves and get started on them. I also still plan to run the AstroBoyFanWorks blog and its Discord server companion for as long as possible. I think when I look back at just how long it’s been- I mean 11 years is so wild! It’s almost unbelievable! But, I find myself in a place where I’m just happy to be here. I could go on and lament about so many things, but the truth of the matter is that after this many years, you either shit or get off the pot, as they say. You don’t second guess, you don’t make assumptions, you decide: Am I going to stick around for at least another year? And personally, I think yes.

[notnctu]

switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series 

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠  fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au,  ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo​ ; @dearlyminhyung​

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :) 

The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you. 

This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you. 

He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you. 

So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together. 

You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.

The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.

Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts. 

Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you. 

“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone. 

“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.

“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.

The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut. 

“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”

Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.

He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.

“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter. 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.” 

Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more. 

He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal. 

But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.

You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone. 

“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face. 

“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car. 

And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.

It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.

He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.

While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.

If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.

He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen. 

Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.

Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.

“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body. 

The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire. 

“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?” 

The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”

His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.” 

Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.” 

“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention. 

He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.

Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno. 

You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.

Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.

Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat. 

Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things. 

And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.

He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.

“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”

“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats. 

Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”

“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink. 

At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you. 

“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.

“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”

Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.

The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.

“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs. 

The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel. 

“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”

You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”

“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.

All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.

Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips. 

However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.

You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again. 

“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship. 

“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.

His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you. 

There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.

“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”

Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”

Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”

Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.

Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.

“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice. 

You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper. 

His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate. 

Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.

“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.” 

Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.

“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.

You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.

The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle. 

You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.

Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you. 

This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s. 

You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.

“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.

Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you. 

His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.

The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.

His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him. 

“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax. 

Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.

Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.

Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.” 

“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.

“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.

It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.

“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.

“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.” 

Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.

Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.

It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.” 

The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed. 

But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.” 

“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.

He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.

“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space. 

Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.

The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”

The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.

He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid. 

“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.

A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?” 

Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?” 

Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”

A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves, 

“thank you for stepping in.”

“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again. 

His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them. 

“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”

The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”

His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.” 

Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.

“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s. 

Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.” 

To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being. 

“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.

But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.

“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.” 

He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours. 

The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.

Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.

Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his. 

“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior. 

“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.

Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek. 

But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.

Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.

Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.

He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed. 

Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.

“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle. 

Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.

“How-- How fast are you going?” 

Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.” 

The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”

You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”

Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him. 

You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.

The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much. 

Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.

Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.

“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.

Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”

Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that. 

Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious. 

His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown. 

“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response. 

“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”

“---No need to further explain.” 

“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.

You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”

Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.” 

Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it. 

A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.

“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.” 

The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.

One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin. 

“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.” 

You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further. 

Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.

“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.” 

“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.

He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.

Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” 

“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.

His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.

He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.

One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.

It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving. 

However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him. 

He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.” 

Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.

“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat. 

The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile. 

“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party. 

“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand. 

“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough. 

“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”

He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.” 

“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.

Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.” 

Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard. 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.

He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode. 

His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs. 

You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.

He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect. 

Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.” 

Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.

However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own. 

It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.

He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.

“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer. 

Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.

“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.

Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.” 

You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.

“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk. 

He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car. 

Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane. 

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Please tell us about the cinema, I beg you

Oh boy...that accursed night. If you think fanfic plots are chaotic, just wait for this story.

Story under the cut:

So, I just got this job at my small town’s local theatre. I genuinely enjoyed it, and was quite content with the way things were going—fun shifts, cool coworkers, and a nice boss. So I thought.

I was only two weeks in when the “incident” occurred.

At the theatre, we had to collect a walkie talkie radio at the start of every shift, and sign it in and out with a piece of paper in the office.

It was a little clunky and annoying when cleaning cinemas with vacuums, but nothing to cry over.

One night, I’m put to work with a new supervisor I hadn’t met before and some new coworkers (they’d all been there a while, but this was my first shift with them).

For a little context, I’m 19, and most of the other employees were like 15-17. So, I was basically being bossed around by pretentious, power-tripping kids. Fun.

King Kong vs Godzilla had just been released, so of course, the theatre was packed that night — 130 people per room.

Now, we usually have 20-30 minute intervals between sessions to clean the cinemas, but with the release of a new movie, it was cut down in half, sometimes less.

I was cleaning the most popular cinema that night, and was first told to take my time, as it needed to be spotless. Also, side note, can people please not throw popcorn everywhere? It’s a pain to clean. Then again, I don’t work there anymore nor ever will, so do what you want, I suppose.

My little coworker told me to take my radio off my belt and put it aside to get a good vacuum going through each aisle, as it apparently made it easier, as the cord would sometimes get wrapped around the radio stem.

Fair enough.

I did so, and left it on the wooden platform of the rows to begin vacuuming. He leaves and I get to work.

However, he comes rushing back a few minutes later and says, “what the hell are you still cleaning for?? We’ve got a hundred people waiting outside???”

I’m over it™️ at this point because I only took this job to see the behind the scenes of how a cinema works. I shrug and go, “okay”

I pack the vacuum up and try to leave hastily, as he’s being very antsy and pushy.

He gets frustrated and grabs the rest of my cleaning crap to leave, and tells me to hurry up behind him.

My hands are full and I can’t grab the radio, so I say, “what about the walkie talkie?”

I swear I hear him say, “leave it, there’s no time!”

I shrug and think it’s weird, but trust him to know better.

However, once I dump my crap and prepare to leave, as a hundred people are pushing in behind me, my intuition tells me to grab the walkie talkie.

I rush back in to where I left it, and find it missing

I have a brief moment of “oh shit”

However, I think to myself, “it’s okay, you only took this job for shits and giggles. If they fire you, you have your other job anyways. What’s the worst that can happen?”

If only I knew.

An hour goes by into my shift, and I’m cleaning another cinema with the same coworker. I’ve kind of shoved the walkie talkie thing to the back of my mind, because I was doing a closing shift that night and could probably get away with not facing my manager about the sign out sheet.

However, at one point the boy goes, “where’s your radio??”

Sheepishly, I say, “uh...I left it in cinema 3, like you told me to?”

He sort of pales and I think this little skinny high schooler is about to pass out.

He starts yelling at me and tells me that I need to get my flashlight and start checking every single row in there.

I go, “fuck no, the movie is still going? You want me to flash a torch in the peoples’ faces during King Kong?? The one cinema hosting the entirety of the sweaty balls side of reddit right now???”

He gets very shitty and says, “I’ll do it myself, wait here.”

By now I know I’m in the shit, but shrug and remember I can always escape through the vents if need be.

Now, there was this really fucking annoying 15 year old boy I was working with that night, who’s the definition of the “well aCtUaLlY” guy irl

He comes sprinting into the theatre I was cleaning, and starts literally interrogating me over this walkie talkie. Like, he thinks he’s the “bad cop” or some shit. Other coworkers closer to my age had already warned me about him before I even met him.

The other boy I was working with apparently couldn’t find it, and just didn’t want to deal with the consequences that night so much, that he called his mum to come pick him up early.

Weakling child.

It was at this point that I quietly arrived at the conclusion of “they think I stole it”

I didn’t understand why, it’s a fucking walkie talkie? What’s the big deal? Go get a Dora the Explorer one to replace it from Target??

I let my inner Mickey Milkovich come out, and play cool.

Him: you fucking stole it

Me:

This 15 year old Ben Shapiro-looking fucker starts grilling me, and literally places me under theatre arrest. I wasn’t allowed to leave the room I was cleaning, in other words.

He gets uncomfortably close—just me and this weird boy in this dark theatre—and goes, “I want you to be brutally honest with me...did you take the walkie talkie? I won’t tell the manager that you did.”

If you guys know me well enough from my blog, then you know this boy suffered a great deal of aggressive sarcasm in response.

He gets pissed (brown-noser), and tells me to continue cleaning, as he leaves the theatre.

Only ten minutes go by until he comes back, but this time with “good cop”.

I roll my eyes, and turn the vacuum off.

They stand at the bottom of the cinema blocking my entrance with their arms folded, and start interrogating me about stealing it.

I give them some more Mickey Milkovich sarcasm, as I had already explained to them a hundred times what happened.

They involve the manager (snitches) and now I’m really in trouble.

They force me to go into the cinema whilst the movie is still playing to look for it. Begrudgingly grabbing my flashlight, and preparing for rightfully angry people as I search their crotches in the middle of a highly anticipated movie, I head inside theatre 3.

Fuck doing that though, I watch the movie instead with the people and eat some popcorn.

Figuring a reasonable amount of time to search had gone by, I sadly leave the cool laser battle scene, and head back out.

Me: “I searched and couldn’t find it.”

Power-complex 15 year old with a punchable Ben Shapiro face: “Did you look everywhere in the cinema??”

Me: “Yeah, I shoved a flashlight up seat 33’s asshole and checked it myself.”

Some more pissy exchanges take place, and I’m told to go clean another cinema.

I’m having fun at this point, because I’ve worked enough jobs to know this situation was being dealt with incredibly immaturely by the other staff.

Regarding accidents like these in the workplace, and given how big the cinema chain is, they should know insurance covers a simple walkie talkie, and that assuming the new employee stole something which is misplaced is a bad way to integrate them into your company. It’s simply a bad look for your business.

I’m cleaning another cinema when all three come in, and tell me they’re going to put cinema 3 on lockdown when the movie ends, and check everyone’s bags.

I’m amused at this point, so I really just go “damn bro that’s wild”

They do exactly that, and it’s as awkward as you can imagine.

People are angry and annoyed—all 130 of them at 9:30pm huddled in a group, having their bags searched for a damn walkie talkie.

After discovering no one had actually stolen it, like I said, they start interrogating me again.

“Are you sure it was cinema 3??? Is your memory perhaps failing you???”

“If I say yes, will I go home sooner?” (my shift ended 15 minutes ago, and I wasn’t allowed to leave)

Naturally, I stayed another 40 minutes, and had to search the entire building. I’m talking arcade, toilets, offices—everywhere.

It is eventually deemed completely lost, and I basically end the night saying, “well, I ain’t about to strip nude for you all for a full body search, and although I’ve never had such a fun shift anywhere else, I’m not a fan of work environments that promote skepticism and cohort-wide distrust. I ain’t coming in next week, or the week after that, or the...well, I think you get the point.”

I leave my badge behind, and basically book it out of the cinema an hour after my shift was supposed to end. I worked illegally longer than I was supposed to, and wasn’t given the legal shift break.

I received text messages and emails from the head office shortly after, asking if I was coming back, and ignored them for a little while, as although I can handle irl confrontation, virtual ones spook me?

Anywho, the walkie talkie actually costs $1000, but as mentioned before, I, an adult, recognise insurance covers these sorts of things, especially in companies as big as these.

So, moral of the story, don’t leave 15 year olds in charge of adults, because most of the time, they’re too young to realise what insurance policies are :)

[ntamain]

Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she's gay?

another gay gem from the r/relationship reddit

Update:

Image ID under the cut, please let me know if I did it wrong!

[Image ID: four screenshots of a post from the relationship subreddit by tumblr user nta-main. The title reads “Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she’s gay?”

The text reads “Update post is now locked, I cant believe so many people were interested in us!! Thank you again for your support, comments and messages.

Hi all, I can't believe I'm asking for advice from a bunch of strangers on the internet but I don't really have anyone I can talk to about this. Sorry for the incoming essay but I guess I need to give history. I bought my first house in September last year, It was an odd time but everything just fell into place. It's quite a small village and everyone is really friendly so I got to know my neighbours soon after moving in - yes, socially distanced. Then I met my over-the-road neighbour, let's call her Elle. I can't describe it but it's the first time I've ever met someone and been lost for words and my heart was racing and just thought "omg", y'know?? So after I blushed my way through a welcome to the village type convo we only saw each other for a wave and hello for a few days.

To help kinda settle in I had my dog (Bea) with me for the first few weeks. During this time there was a massive increase in dog thefts in a nearby town, not just from gardens but literally wrestled away from people. If I'd have been working (furloughed off and on since March) then I would've taken Bea back to mum's but since I was home with her all day she stayed. So the local police advised to not walk dogs alone but we go out twice a day, a 10k run in the morning and a few miles walk in the evening. So obvs this scares me, but at the same time she is honestly a pain in the arse and gets upset if she doesn't go for a run and needs to be tired out so I'm kind of stuck at this point. Then along comes Elle. She knocked on the door and offered to come with us as she'd seen Bea and me in the evenings and everything kind of spiralled from there. I told her about my morning runs but she didn't really bite so I thought nothing of it. Then a few days later I bumped into her on a run, so she started joining us on those too.

A few months later and we are spending more and more time together everyday. It has now progressed to a run early morning, afternoon coffee, dinner most evenings and then the evening walk. It just seemed to happen without me really noticing. I didn't read into things that much as I don't want to get my hopes up and ruin anything until another neighbour commented about how much time we spend together and how "it's nice to see you young gals getting on" and winked. She actually winked at me. I asked her what she meant but she just laughed and said "you know what I mean". So now I'm looking back on things and wondering if she could like me too?

Here's some reasons why she might like me:

I went running along the same route at the same time for nearly 2 weeks before I happened to run into her a few days after I told her this?

I make her a coffee every afternoon (Elle is WFH) and take it over in her fave mug. She says I make good coffee but I'm pretty sure I saw a fancy coffee machine the first time I went round (it's not there now?).

Elle carried on running and walking with me even after Bea went home. I told her she was going back to mum's and she said well "I'll have to make another excuse to join you" and then we just carried on everyday.

She has tried really hard to bond with Bea. Bea is a very anxious dog and is scared of everyone except me and mum. Elle bought special treats to give her everyday and has been so amazing with her and never tried to force anything. When I asked her she said "it's important to me that she likes me and is comfortable". Bea actually fell asleep between us on the sofa yesterday and It just makes my heart skip a beat guys.

She invited me to the zoom quiz she does with her friends every fortnight or so and they were all like "oh so this is who we've heard so much about "

We realised we had become each other's support bubble. Elle asked if I was meeting anyone else and I said no, she said she was glad she had me all to herself (!!)

We gave each other quite personal xmas presents. Like, it actually made me tear up it meant so much to me. And she bought stuff for Bea!!

Reasons why she might not like me:

All the reasons above, but that she's just doing them because she's a fucking great person and we're friends?

It might sound dumb but idk I need your help guys. She is the just the most incredible person I have ever met and I really really like her but if she isn't gay or doesn't feel the same I don't want to lose her friendship as she has become such a huge part of my life. I genuinely have no experience with these kind of things as I went to quite a strict all girls school, so it's not as if there were any relationships around me as a teen and then I went to a very small uni (8 of us on my course). I guess another reason is that I've struggled with anxiety and depression for the past 10 years, as well as my weight and working on my self confidence, but I can say that right now I am the happiest and healthiest (both mentally and physically) I have ever been. I've only just really become comfortable with the fact that I'm gay and I have never really told anyone in real life, but I don't think people would be too surprised lol. I don't have any close friends as no one stuck around when I was really struggling with my MH a few years ago so I can't discuss this with anyone irl.

So I need your advice : how do I find out if she is gay? And no, I don't have the confidence to just ask!! What if she says no and I ruin everything? She has never mentioned anything about past relationships and I'm pretty tactless so not sure how I could naturally slip it into the convo. Like, "hey tell me have you ever had a girlfriend? Do you want one now?" Lol. And how can I make a move without really making a move so I don't ruin things??

tl;dr : Don't know whether my neighbour is gay and into me or is just really friendly. How can I make a move without ruining our friendship?

Edit: Ok guys, thank you so so much for all your support and encouragement. You've all given me a lot to think about. I think I'm going to casually slip some gay stuff into conversation and see how she reacts. Then bring up the neighbours comment like some of you suggested, seeing as tho the neighbour was heavily implying that we're gay. I'll do it tonight otherwise I'll talk myself out of it again. I will post an update to let you know what happens (eek). If you never hear from me again assume it went badly and I am consoling myself with cake and watching brokeback mountain in floods of tears.

Hi reddit, yes it's me the useless lesbian. First off I want to thank you all for your support, encouragement and advice - and the undeserved awards! I never expected this many of you to take the time to comment and that so many of you were rooting for us.

So I had the plan to drop these gay hints into convo like you guys suggested but honestly it all went out the window. Elle was kinda stressed friday after a shitty work zoom and just needed to vent so it wasnt the right time to start anything. Though I guess I must have been a bit off thanks to spending all day overthinking things on here, as Elle turned up Saturday morning rambling about stressing me out and apologised (!!) for ruining dinner. Obvs I said "what are you talking about you can talk to me about anything", and she said "anything?" and I said "anything" back. And guys the tension was unreal, staring at each other and hoping our lesbian mind reading powers would kick in.

Then there was some loud noise like a car backfiring or something and the moment went. So I went to make coffee and then Elle asked me why I was a bit quiet the night before and I said something about overthinking stuff and she said "what stuff" and idk you guys I wasnt prepared to be put on the spot my casual gay pop culture references were useless in this moment. My mind just went completely blank and I forgot every single thing you guys suggested and my heart was pounding and I just blurted out you know I like you, right?.

...And then she kissed me. Kissed me. We straight up just snogged in the kitchen and it was fucking great. So...you were right. You were all fucking right. She's gay, she likes me and has been trying to drop hints for nearly 5 months. sigh

We were both just too scared to make a move or ruin anything. Turns out she's been burned by straight girls in the past, so she's pretty wary and was hoping I'd straight up say I'm a lesbian so she'd know for sure - maybe the I'm a lesbian wall hanging would've been a good idea after all? Her friends have been helping her drop hints, she showed me the group chat and guys their suggestions ranged from flirting more to just turning up in a trenchcoat and nothing else lol. Also, the winking neighbour has been making comments to her as well, so shout out to her for trying to make this happen too.

So no cake and cry watching brokeback mountain, just 5 months of dating to catch up on. As for worrying about how our current schedule could be more date like during lockdown, you were right it's kinda irrelevant when you've essentially been dating the whole time. Though we never made it to our morning run yesterday, in fact we didn't leave the house at all, ha.

Thank you guys for giving me hope, even if all your suggestions completely disappeared in the moment. Maybe I'll show her the post later and ask if any of the suggestions would have worked.

tl;dr: she's gay, into me and I'm an idiot”

End image ID]

[lorata]

I saw your little post on "distribution of poverty in fantasy tiered cities", I'd really love to hear any of your ideas on that. My own thoughts go right to Mortal Engines (London) and Coruscant from SW.

ah yes I remember this, poor T (my wife)

mmm. hmm so. oh boy. so I haven't seen/read mortal engines and coruscant is Its Own Thing so disclaimer, my rant was referring specifically to that one Brand of fantasy city where like, "here is our tiered city, this is the lower ring, the poors live here, this is the middle ring, the crafts people/social climbers live here, this is the upper ring, here is where the rich live" (I'm paraphrasing but you get the idea)

anyway so I want to preface this as well by saying that I was not actually insulting writers or fantasy books and saying this is unrealistic! bad writing! hur hur hur I am extremely knowledgeable about real-world city planning!!!!!!!!!! blurrrrr blahhh DO THIS OR I WILL IMMEDIATELY STOP READING, WRITERS!!!!!!!

(one of my least favourite genre of Extremely Online Pedant posts is like "ACTUALLY fantasy books are BAD because they have POTATOES and those are a NEW WORLD CROP" or "UM ACTUALLY you called your ruler a DUKE and according to the ENGLISH MONARCHY SYSTEM the titles go LIKE THIS" you know those "your FAKE WORLD must conform to EUROPEAN RULES or else it's BAD" like let the rain fall down and wake your dreams maybe)

it's more that ....... I was having a lot of feelings about my (poor, urban) neighbourhood, and the fantasy book I was reading (and others I had read before) did not currently represent those feelings in a satisfying way? and so my rant was kind of like, the people who write these books feel like they have always had enough money for what they need, maybe not enough to do everything they've always dreamed exactly when they want to do it so they don't feel like they're rich, but they've never had to THINK about money or be scared of not having it, and they definitely do not know what it feels like to live in a low-income area pressed in by the wealthy but they do seem to think it means narrow alleys and rats and everything smells like urine and everyone is mean and backstabby

so it's a combination of, none of these books feel like they know what it means to be poor, no one knows what community or mutual aid means call yourself a community organizer even though you're not on speaking terms with your roommates, all of these fantasy cities operate with the exact same template of "filthy poor area", "austere rich area", "artsy suburban area" (where the author lives irl) and it had started to irritate me

but the kicker is that NONE of these that I had read ever talked about gentrification. the areas were demarcated and that was that -- MAYBE the rich build another tier as the city grew, widening the middle class and leaving the poor further behind, but that's not, er, that's not -- and this is why I was upset, not because the authors didn't like ... include gentrification in the books, but because I was angry about gentrification in real life.

I live in an immigrant neighbourhood, culturally diverse, densely populated, and one of the largest income disparities in the country. only 6% of the population earns over $60,000 and 60% earns under $20,000. right next to it is one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods, with average incomes over $300,000. the 6% of high earners here comes from high-rise condos (not for rent) bought by rich couples who want low property values but don't want to LIVE here, so they commute out for work and social life and basically use their apartment in my community as their crash pad. they don't shop here, they don't invest in any of the local infrastructure, they post negative reviews on Google of the grocery store and the library that there are "unsightly people" and people should try another location instead.

meanwhile the community across the road, the rich one, blocks condos in their neighbourhood bc they hate the look of towers, but they absolutely support them over here bc they can invite their rich friends to live in them and have them over all the time, but they don't have to stare at the ugly building. at the same time (bc we live in the same voting district) they actively block public works projects in our neighbourhood that might ~~impact~~ them like streetcars (because we might come into their territory!) or parks (because they should have a monopoly on green space and it might lower their property values if we get any grass).

in the meantime the condos keep coming in, and our actual buildings that we use (like dollar stores and laundromats and family restaurants) get demolished to make room for them, and the neighbourhoods get more expensive. if the neighbourhood a few blocks south is any indication, next step is the police come in and start clearing out the homeless but don't give them anywhere to go (they just, you know, kick them out), and the affordable housing is repurposed as a ~coworking space~ and its tenants evicted, and then later an area that was for immigrants and had a local community is labelled "up and coming" and now it's shiny and sterile and has Starbucks and cannabis shops and condos and plenty of cute young white couples with kids and all the poor families are struggling to find somewhere new to live, because rich people always want more.

you don't see this in fantasy cities. it's always, the rich stay UP THERE and the poors stay DOWN HERE and the poors WISH they could get up there and the rich think the poor area is GROSS. you don't see that kind of neighbourhood mobility, where poor neighbourhoods get gentrified, or the reverse as soon as there is any kind of diversification (e.g. white flight). and I realize why not, it's the same reason that (unless you're Max Gladstone) you don't get fantasy books based on extremely nitpicky legal battles and land titles. readers don't care! it's not a real city! the city is a setting! a backdrop!

(Max Gladstone, bless him forever, I have no idea how this man decided that working class neighbourhoods fighting wealthy gentrificators BUT WITH GODS AND MAGIC would make for a good novel series but he did, and he did it brilliantly. even if he made me endure magic-flavoured catholicism, again.)

anyway. I grew up in the middle of nowhere on a farm. I don't care about fantasy potatoes. I don't care where the linen comes from. I am fine without a detailed accounting of how the protagonists feed their horses on their journey. This is fantasy, we take some things for granted, and people who are like HORSES NEED 2% OF THEIR BODYWEIGHT PER DAY THIS IS UNREALISTIC should just put the book down and go play because clearly reading is not the right hobby for them. but that morning after ANOTHER condo notice went up on a building that had been a local restaurant because the owner (who'd fought the city on selling for the past 50 years) passed away and they won their case against the estate, I just got mad.

I'm so sorry, this is not what you were expecting to get lol

[hellitwasyoufirstsergeant]

Hi everyone! I’m not really sure why I’m posting this here, I suppose because I’m not ready for people I know ‘irl’ to see this, and this is the only account I have anywhere where none of my irl friends follow it. As to why I’m posting this at all, I’m not so sure either. I suppose largely for myself, in the hope that it will exorcise some demons, and partly for other people, because eating disorders just are not discussed enough and perhaps by posting this I can show someone else that they’re not alone. 

There may be mistakes in this and it may not all be 100% coherent, I found it hard to write and I didn’t wish to read it back over.

WARNING: The following post contains discussions of eating disorders and mental health issues. Please do not read if this is a trigger for you, and please not not read if you’re only here to pass judgement 

Looking back now, it’s so easy to realise why I felt the way I did, and to see my descent into mental illness. At the time, it was confusing as hell. I wasn’t diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder and clinical depression until I was 17, although I had been suffering from both for six years already, I just didn’t realise it, because I just didn’t know they existed. I didn’t know there were medical conditions to describe how I felt, perhaps if I did I wouldn’t have felt so alone and so alienated. It wasn’t until last year that I realised I’d suffered from an eating disorder. Before that, I didn’t know that binge eating was an eating disorder. 

The words ‘eating disorder’ to me conjured up images of skeletal bodies, of people making themselves sick. I wish that preteen and teen me knew that I was suffering from an actual condition, that other people suffered from too. 

I don’t recall specifically the first time I binged on food, but over autumn (fall) of 2011 it became a regular occurrence, a habit. It was my way of coping with the changes in my life - starting a new school, my mum being diagnosed with a clinical illness and an increasingly fractured relationship with my dad - and my feelings of loneliness. I was also self conscious about my body, I was in a more advanced stage of puberty than most of my peers and I was aware of the fact that I was a little overweight. Bingeing became an outlet for feelings that I couldn’t understand, and therefore that I couldn’t process. 

It was a process that I repeated regularly for six years. It was like a paradox, the more I looked at myself in the mirror and hated what I saw, the more I binged, the very thing that made me carry on putting on weight. I was overweight, I still am today, but I wish that I could have seen myself the way others saw me - slightly chubby but not the ugly monster I thought myself at the time. I ate my feelings away, it was the only coping mechanism I knew. Even when in some ways my life improved - when I was 14 I finally fell in with a group of friends who were kind and who made me feel accepted - my mental state continued to decline and I continued to eat to cope. I was also feeling confused about my sexuality, something that increased my sense of alienation and otherness. It was often the only thing that got me through the day, the only thing that made life bearable to me. 

I never confided the way I felt or my problem with food to anyone during this period. My mum knew that I had issues with food, twice she found hidden stashes in my bedroom. She has been a good parent to me, but I so wish she’d handled it differently. She made me feel ashamed, something that made me more determined to hide my problem and therefore to not confront it. I think perhaps that she would’ve been a lot more understanding had she known the feelings behind the problem, but I didn’t know how to go about telling her. 

I can’t remember how old I was exactly when I shoplifted food for the first time, I think around 14. The £10 a week pocket money was no longer enough to fund my problem, even though I always chose the cheapest food so that I could buy as much as possible. I shoplifted semi regularly from the local supermarkets for around 18 months, I still don’t know how I was never caught. 

In September 2016, I started sixth form college. It was a fresh start that I so badly needed, my five years at secondary school having been so unhappy. It was hard to begin with, only my oldest friend went to the same college as me and old feelings of loneliness resurfaced. A part of me had hoped that the change of school would allow me to leave my bingeing habit behind, but it wasn’t to be. Even when I settled in and began making friends, I continued bingeing. 

New friends at college told me of their mental health issues, and I finally felt understood - there were other people who felt the way I did, other people who wanted to die. These feelings may not be normal, but I’m not alone anymore. Despite feeling accepted properly for the first time in my life, I continued to eat. Perhaps it was the stress of A levels (my fellow Brits know how fucking hard these are), or my mum’s decline in health, or my increasingly worsening relationship with my dad. 

In May/June time of 2017, my oldest friend, Imogen, who was one of a few friends now aware of my poor mental state, told me that I should go to the doctor. After a little persuading, I agreed. She came with me, but the appointment achieved nothing. I tried a few more GPs at my local surgery and eventually found one who made me feel listened to, and who was kind and sympathetic. I don’t recall the exact time I was diagnosed (to be honest this period in my life is a bit of a blur), but after some months I was finally diagnosed with GAD and clinical depression. I still continued to stay silent about my problem with food. 

Ironically, it was actually the further decline of my mental state that allowed me to break my old habit. My mental health had declined fairly slowly over the past few years, but the decline accelerated over autumn and winter of 2017. I don’t know if there was a trigger behind that, I guess mental health doesn’t need a reason. I didn’t know how to deal with the way I felt, I lashed out and fell out with Imogen, which hit me hard. We didn’t talk at all for three months. Before this period, I had often thought that things would be so much easier if I was dead, but my thoughts had never progressed beyond that. Now, it became more active. I actually wanted to die. I stopped looking when I crossed the road, I stopped looking after my physical health at all. Fears about hurting my mum were the only thing stopping me from taking it further. But, I finally stopped binge eating, so disinterested in life that even the that no longer made me feel better. 

My mental state didn’t take a turn for the better, but I grew used to these new feelings and started to process them properly. I got better at pushing them out, but I did eventually decide to tell my parents about my diagnoses. My mum was very supportive, she still is, my dad not so (although I probably should’ve expected that). I made up with Imogen, my behaviour started to normalise. I felt so free from my old bingeing habit, it had only been a few months but it felt like a lifetime ago. 

In February 2018, my mum told me that she’d be moving to Yorkshire. She’d been forced by her job to take early retirement due to ill health, she was only 50 at the time, and wanted to live somewhere cheaper so she could save on living costs and pay off her mortgage. I was scared, and considered for a time moving in with my grandparents so that I could stay in a place where I knew people, but eventually decided that I’d move with my mum. Still, despite the biggest change ever to happen in my life, I managed to avoid a return to my binge eating habit. I’m still not sure how. Perhaps now that the habit was broken it no longer had the hold over me that it once did. 

And then, around March 2018, my dad gave me £500. To this day I still have no idea why, I guess guilt. But it was so much more money than I’d ever had. The temptation not to spend any of it on food was too great. I decided to treat myself, I’d spend £100 on food and put the rest in my savings. 

By the time I finished college at the beginning of June, the entire £500 was gone, at least £450 of it spent on food. I still remember the binge I had the day after me and mum moved out of our old home and in with my grandparents, who we lived with for seven weeks before going to Yorkshire. My mental state declined still further, and I wasted most of those weeks in bed, not having the energy to do anything. I kicked myself later for not using it to spend time with the friends I was leaving behind. 

After we moved to Yorkshire in August, I spent two of the worst months of my life. My old feelings of loneliness resurfaced, not helped by the fact that one of my closest friends just stopped talking to me. I seemed to alternate between binge eating, my binges even bigger than they ever had been, and hardly eating at all. 

But, eventually, I managed to settle in. I got a job, I made new friends. I didn’t make a conscious decision to stop binge eating again, it just happened. I wasn’t lonely anymore, but my mental state didn’t seem to get any better. But, I had healthier ways of coping and I didn’t need to binge as an outlet for my feelings anymore. In September 2019, I started uni, and I finally felt like my life had a purpose. 

Now, I have more and better friends than I ever had. I’m glad I made the move to Yorkshire, where I live now is much nicer where I grew up and if I hadn’t made the move there are so many amazing people I wouldn’t have met. Most of my friends are aware of my mental health issues, although I rarely discuss them in detail. 

However, only one of my friends is aware of my eating disorder. I didn’t realise until last year that binge eating was classified as an eating disorder. I’m not quite sure why, but this discovery prompted me to finally confide in my oldest friend, Imogen. She was very supportive and understanding, and I know my other friends would be, but it’s still something where I look back and I’m like ‘woah that actually happened’. Putting it out of my mind as much as possible has been my way of coping with the fact that it did happen. I have been slightly more open online that I have irl about the fact that I had an eating disorder, but this is the first time I have discussed it this in depth with anyone. 

I’m going to say now what I wish preteen and teen me had known: you are not alone. Whether you’re suffering from an eating disorder, from mental health issues, or from something else, you are not alone. I can’t say truthfully that I have never regretted confiding in someone, but the majority of the time it has helped me, even in a small way. Please talk to someone if you have an eating disorder, be it a friend, a family member, a GP, a teacher, even me. It is nothing to be ashamed of. 

I stopped binge eating as a regular habit at the start of winter 2018. Although I relapsed a couple times last year, it’s been twelve months and counting since my last binge. 

[milkybonya]

apple pie

🍎Warnings: food mentions, some angst

🍎Pairing: college!Wooseok x college!(gender neutral)reader

🍎Summary: where i twist my (irl) first year university experience and give it the happy ending i wanted :D 

🍎Word count: 5k

🍎first year of university is annoying. some tall guy keeps stealing your seat, making your mornings a little more frustrating. when you find the guts to take your seat back, your feelings of anger develop into something else. but like a poisoned apple, though seemingly sweet, some things, or some people, are just forbidden. yet when an apple is baked with love into a pie, a pie that needs much care and time to bake properly, won’t the outcome be a good one? 🍎

You always sit in the front. It helps you to stay focused and it’s very important that you sit in the same spot everyday.

It always took a few weeks of getting to class early before everyone would stay away from your seat, since in university, there aren’t any seating plans. Consequently, it didn’t normally bother you if someone took your seat.

But this time, it did.

Getting to your chem class from calc involved rushing from one side of campus to the other, so by the time you arrived, someone was sitting in ‘your seat’. You sighed and sat somewhere a few rows back, glaring at the figure of this intruder. He had his black bag on the seat next to him, and you wondered who he was saving his seat for.

It was hard to focus in class, especially when you realized that this boy had not been saving the seat next to him, but was just putting his bag there. I could have sat there... you thought.

During class, there would often be multiple choice questions that you would have to answer on your phone called ‘iclickers’. It was a method of keeping track of attendance and who was paying attention. Your eyes were glued to your intruder’s back for the first twenty minutes of class, so you got the first iclicker wrong. They were supposed to be easy marks, but you got it wrong.

It’s all his fault, you thought. If only he hadn’t sat there!

From that day on, he’d always beat you to your seat. If he only sat there once, you would’ve been able to forgive him, but the fact that he was there everyday made you angry. Even worse, his bag took up the spot next to him. A perfectly good spot taken by a bag...

One day, you stomped up to him and without saying ‘excuse me’ or asking if the seat next to him was taken, you slid into the spot where his bag was, forcing him to remove it.

I did it! You thought. Front row spot secured.

Everyday, you would sit next to him, and the two of you never exchanged a word. You didn’t want to start the conversation because he was the intruder and you wouldn’t do that for him. 

Yes, at first, you hated him just a bit. He’d taken your seat! Why wouldn’t you? 

You started to notice how he would clear his throat every few seconds right before sniffling. How he’d push up his wire-rimmed glasses after looking down at his notes. How he removed his cap so he could fix his overgrown, dark locks underneath. The sound of his black jacket crinkling as he shifted his arms so he could rest his chin in his palm... Cute, you thought. No! Cute? Intruder man? No no no...

Your crush was in full swing before you knew it. You were excited to come to class everyday just to see him. That was it. See him. Not talk to him, but see him. You were too scared to suddenly start a conversation after sitting next to him in silence for a week, but you knew you would regret it if you didn’t try.

After frantically texting your friends for courage and advice, you walked to class early on Monday so you could be there before him. When he came to sit next you, your heart was racing. Okay, I’ll just ask him about the lecture notes so I don’t seem weird, then I’ll ask for his name, then...

You took a deep breath. Your heart beat was like an earthquake, shaking your entire body. Were your ribs crumbling inside? Why did it feel like your body was collapsing?

“Hey um...” he didn’t hear you, so you gently poked his shoulder and he turned to look at you. You were too scared to meet his eyes, so you stared somewhere to his left.

“Um, do you know where we left off in the lecture notes last week?” You asked. I did it, I’m doing it !

“Yeah,” he said, shuffling a few pages around and pulling out a paper, pointing to something. “Here.” His voice was deep.

“Ah, thank you,” you said, pretending to go through your own notes. “I know I always sit next to you, but I’ve never spoken to you before, what’s your name?”

“Me?” he asked, pointing to himself with wide eyes. “Wooseok.” 

“Wooseok... My name is [y/n],” You said. He nodded, looking back at his notes.

Realizing that he wasn’t going to continue the conversation, you decided to try asking him a question while mentally kicking yourself for doing all the hard work in the conversation.

He answered, telling you that he was studying Humanities. Unsure of which specific program he wanted to pursue, he was taking a variety of courses, including chemistry for some reason. 

“Just keeping my options open,” he said with a chuckle.

It felt a bit awkward, like you were interviewing him, but you were glad to have started the conversation, proud that you were brave for once despite being so scared of initiating conversations.

The professor strolled in and class begun, so you decided not to bother Wooseok anymore for the time being.

The next day, you tried again, asking him more questions. He told you how he was an international student from Korea, living here without his parents and family. You felt a little upset, knowing that his family was far away. It made you want to be kinder to the intruder who stole your seat. And your heart.

Each day, you tried to talk to him more and eventually, he seemed to feel more comfortable around you.

“How’s your day going?” he asked you for the first time as you sat beside him. You responded while smiling, earning you a grin in return from the tall boy.

At some point, he also started saving your seat for you. He had stopped placing his bag beside him when you forcefully sat next to him the first time, but he started placing his bag there again now, removing it as soon as he saw you rushing through the double doors to the front row.

He didn’t want anyone to sit beside him except for you.

Those brief moments before class were something that you treasured. The two of you talking and getting to know one another, Wooseok’s eye smile as he spoke... it was so lovely. Even during class, you’d share answers for the iclickers, explaining your thoughts to one another and debating the answers. You’d both groan when you got them wrong and grinned when you got them right.

The front row experience meant an up-close view of the demos, so the two of you would share your amazement with every explosion, trying to predict what would happen next.

During your bleak and often stressful first year of university, your crush on Wooseok and his presence had become your solace. That was, until February 14th. The day before reading week. A Friday. Valentine’s day.

Frankly, you were worried that Wooseok was seeing someone from the very start. He was so pretty, and pretty international students were known for having s/os. You used Valentine’s day as an excuse to see if you could find an answer to your question.

“Woah Wooseok, it’s Valentine’s day. The days are passing so quickly, I didn’t even notice!” you said, trying to play it cool.

“Oh yeah!” Wooseok said, scratching the back of his neck. “I should buy something for my s/o...”

s/o. There it was. The answer that you expected but dreaded.

You felt your heart drop but tried to keep it together. Wooseok returned to his notes, unaware of the fact that you were falling apart right beside him.

Even when the professor began to lecture, you were unable to pay attention, drifting in and out of sadness. You didn’t realize how big your crush on Wooseok was until now.

That’s okay! you told yourself. I can still just be his friend. I should ask for his socials later to see if he’ll want to meet during the break.

Wooseok was in a rush to leave as soon as the professor dismissed the class. A big smile on his face, he quickly packed up.

“Finally, the break is here!” he exclaimed.

You tried to keep up with the tall boy’s pace, scurrying behind him and quietly asking him if he would want to meet during your week off school. He seemed to be in a daze, grinning while he took your phone to search for his sns account. 

He left you standing there. 

You were happy that you could contact him but sad that he would be nothing but a friend.

🍎

During the break, you decided to ask him what he was up to while you were sitting in the boba store at your local mall. He told you that he was in a nearby city, staying at his friend’s house. Damn, he probably won’t want to meet me since he’s so far away.

You were glad that he wasn’t alone though, and after quite a dry text conversation with him, you slipped your phone into your pocket and walked off.

By the time the break was over and you were back in your chemistry class, Wooseok seemed sad again. When you asked him what was up, he told you he was sad because the break ended so fast and he hadn’t gotten much done. A lot of deadlines were waiting for him. It wasn’t even your problem, but you felt upset seeing him stressed. 

You had gotten used to recognizing his moods by the way he acted. He was a little more quiet when he was tired, sad or stressed, but when he wanted to talk to you, you could tell he was feeling happier, which also made you happy.

🍎

A few days later, there was a day when the professor didn’t come to class. Half an hour had passed and he still wasn’t there, so you decided to leave. Wooseok wanted to stay to do some work, so you left alone. 

You passed a boba shop in the student centre on your way to your next class and quickly messaged Wooseok asking him if he wanted you to buy anything. It was another stressful day for him it seemed, and you wanted to cheer him up.

He thanked you but said he didn’t want anything, so you trudged away to your next class, feeling defeated. You wished you had just asked him to come along with you.

It was your biggest goal and dream to see Wooseok outside of your chemistry class. It seemed like he only existed there, and you wished that you could randomly run into him on campus or have a study date with him... It felt like he wasn’t even real, since you only saw him in chemistry.

One day, it actually happened. Your next class was cancelled so you had an extra two hours, and Wooseok was also free for the next two hours. When you asked him where he was going to spend his time, he said, “the library. Wanna come with me?”

The fact that he wanted you to come along, that he asked the question with his eyes widened and a small smile on his face, eager for an answer, all of this was enough to make your heart flutter. 

As you left the lecture hall while walking right next to him, the cold winter air hit your face and both of you almost tripped on a pile of snow right outside the door. You laughed along with him, thankful that you see him outside of the lecture hall.

I guess he is real and not just some figment of my imagination...

The library was packed, buzzing with the sound of students studying for their midterms. The two of you managed to find an empty table though, sitting side by side and opening your books. 

Wooseok complained about his crazy final exam schedule, and as you showed him your own schedule on your laptop, he shuffled over to lean in closer, trying to get a better view. It made your heart race; he was so close.

Even as the two of you studied, he would lean in to see what part of the mock test your were on.

When it was time to head to class, the two of you walked side by side for as far as you could until you had to part ways. Wooseok’s tall frame towered over you from your right, and the fact that you had to look up at him every time he spoke made you feel small and cute. He was the only person who could make you feel this way.

Waving goodbye, you checked the time and began to ran as you realized you were late. Quickly shuffling into a seat, your friend elbowed you from beside you, asking you where you had been.

“In the library with Wooseok,” you whispered.

“A library date?!” your friend exclaimed. You slapped their shoulder shyly and tried to pay attention in class, but your head was still spinning. Finally you had gotten to hang out with Wooseok outside of class... Could this mean that your friendship was growing?

🍎

You and Wooseok would leave class together more often, sometimes meeting when you were both free to study. Even though you were both only close enough to talk about school and not your personal interests, you still tried to learn more about him and his love for anime, music, and his weird sleeping schedule.

Sometimes the two of you would only talk instead of studying, which you didn’t mind in the slightest bit.

Things were going well. You even got to hang out with Wooseok on a weekend, walking around town and exploring some shops. 

You stole glances at him as his long fingers thumbed through jackets, his eyes focused, trying to find something he wanted. When he pulled out a funny T-shirt that he wanted to show you, you quickly looked away and blushed, not wanted him to know that you were staring.

“[y/n], look! Isn’t this funny?” he asked you, grinning cutely. You nodded and walked over to look at the shirt, which has quite a weird design on it.

“I kind of want to buy it...” he admitted.

“You should do it!” you told him, lightly nudging him.

When you got hungry and found a place to eat, Wooseok shared his food with you.

“Hey, I shared mine with you so you better give me some of yours!” he demanded jokingly. He only ended up taking the smallest amount of your food, not wanting to take a lot from the dish that he noticed you were enjoying.

At the last store that you decided to check out before leaving, you found a keychain that you really liked. You rubbed your thumb over its edges, turning it over and over in your hand. Eventually, you left it there. It was too expensive and you didn’t want to spend your money on something you didn’t really need.

When you and Wooseok were about to part ways, he handed you a small plastic bag, eyeing you eagerly. When you opened it and looked inside, you found the keychain you had looked at earlier.

“I noticed you liked it... it would look pretty cool on your bag,” he said nervously, scratching his neck. 

As soon as Wooseok was out of sight, you attached it to your bag right away.

🍎

The two of you had become closer as friends. Things were going so well, and even though you still had a crush on Wooseok, you controlled yourself and reminded yourself that you were only his friend. He was in a happy, long term relationship and you didn’t want to ruin anything.

You didn’t ruin anything, but someone else did.

Strangely enough, even though you never saw Wooseok on campus, you saw him on this day, walking towards you while scrolling through his phone. His cream coloured winter jacket bounced up and down with every one of his long strides.

You nudged your friend beside you.

“You know how you’ve never seen Wooseok before? There he is, that’s him,” you told them.

Your friend followed your gaze and laid eyes on Wooseok.

“Yo! Wooseok!” they yelled. Wooseok looked up, confused, but smiled when he saw you next to your friend.

The three of you stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass, since there were a lot of people walking around, trying to get to places and you didn’t want to cause what you and your friends called a ‘hallway traffic blockage’.

“Hi Wooseok, this is my friend,” you told him. He greeted your friend and your friend seemed quite excited. They were very outgoing, and finally having met your crush of a few months made them even more ecstatic.

“Nice to meet you, Wooseok! I’ve heard so much about you and now I finally met you... I’m like ‘ohhh, so this is the guy who [y/n] has a phat crush on’, they’re always talking about you I swear-” your friend rambled.

What? Crush? Did they just...

Your friend slapped their own mouth, turning to you with wide eyes.

You started laughing out of nervousness, making Wooseok, who was quite speechless, chuckle along.

“You’re so funny!” you said to your friend. “They’re just joking, Wooseok. Anyway, we’re so busy, gotta go I’ll see you soon!”

You grabbed your friend and pushed them forward, both of you speed-walking away from Wooseok.

“What are you doing?!” you asked your friend.

They looked down, completely guilty.

“I don’t know why that just slipped out; I have no idea...”

How am I going to face him again?

You couldn’t. Even though you thought you shook it off as a ‘joke’ quite smoothly, you still couldn’t face him knowing that he heard what he heard.

You started to skip lectures. So full of embarrassment, you followed along with the podcasts and recorded lectures instead, doing the iclickers from the library and teaching everything to yourself. It was difficult, but for the sake of hiding your shame, you would work hard.

Wooseok messaged you after a few days.

Hey... Have u been ok? why aren’t u in class anymore?

You responded by telling him that you were extremely sick, but after a few weeks passed and the end of the term approached, Wooseok continued to message you.

Is it really bad? It’s been a couple of weeks now... Do u need any help? Will u be able to write the exam?

I can write the exam... it’s just hard to come to lecture, I’m sorry

After the final exam, you spent the rest of the summer ignoring Wooseok’s messages out of pure embarrassment. He didn’t message you often, but tried to check up on you every few days.

hello? r u still sick?

are you feeling any better yet? is everything ok?

it’s not bad... right?

pls if you need any help, pls tell me

He stopped messaging you after a month, but your friend told you that they got a message from him asking about you.

“Tell him I’m fine, I’m just busy,” you told them.

“That’s not a good enough excuse, [y/n]... you can’t keep hiding just because he found out you like him. He probably thought it was a joke anyway, just message him back, okay?” your friend told you.

You never got the courage to message Wooseok, but your friend was pulling tricks behind your own back. 

A month later, your doorbell rang, and you cautiously approached the door. Not expecting anyone, you peeked through a window beside your door and saw Wooseok, who waved at you with a worried look on his face.

My friend did this, didn’t they... I’ll get them back for this..

Wooseok had seen your face, so you couldn’t ignore him anyway. You slowly opened the door, ducking your head down.

“[y/n], are you okay? Are you still sick? What’s going on?” he asked.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked him. You let him into your house and he politely removed his shoes, shuffling into your living room.

“Do you want anything to drink?” you asked him, hovering in the kitchen.

“I’m fine, [y/n], please just tell me what’s going on. I’ve been so worried, you never missed lectures and you always messaged me... What’s happening?” he asked you.

You sat next to him, leaving adequate space to avoid making either of you uncomfortable.

There were no more lies that you could make up now. Might as well come clean and end the friendship here.

“Wooseok... did you know I liked you?” you asked, quietly.

“You liked me?” his tone was high-pitched and sharp. “So what your friend said...”

“It wasn’t a joke. I know you didn’t believe it, but I couldn’t face you anymore after that, so I lied to avoid coming to lectures, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t have any bad intentions, I know you have an s/o but I don’t want you to break up-”

“I don’t have an s/o,” Wooseok said.

“What?” you asked, finally turning to face him. Wooseok’s face was flushed, his long, soft hair perfectly sitting around his face as he looked down.

“We broke up... Some things just didn’t really work out,” he said.

“Wooseok, I’m so sorry...” You said, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. 

It wasn’t because of me, right? What if they found out I liked Wooseok and they broke up with him because of that?

“You better not think it was your fault,” he said, looking into your eyes. “Cause it wasn’t...”

You bit your lip, trying to think of something to say.

“Do you wanna watch some movies... or something?” you asked him, carefully.

He smiled and sat up straight, suddenly towering over you.

“That sounds nice.”

You pulled out whatever snacks you could find and let Wooseok choose a movie. Despite feeling awkward at first, the two of you eventually sat comfortably on the couch. 

Hearing Wooseok’s laugh when a character cracked a joke, feeling his happiness and presence from beside you filled your heart with so much joy that you wondered how you had ignored him for all this time and went weeks without seeing him. You were glad that you could be friends again.

After the movie ended, Wooseok decided to leave, saying he ‘didn’t want to bother you’, but he made you promise to answer all his messages and hang out with him over the summer.

Following that, there were many late night messages from Wooseok ‘checking up on you’.

are u awake?

yes, Wooseok, i’m awake

but why, you should be sleeping

IT’S 9PM !

yeah.. bedtime cmon, don’t stay up late

says the one with the whack sleeping schedule

Wooseok was messaging you all day and was like a reminder to drink water, eat your meals and sleep on time. It got so out of hand that you had to meet up just to tell him that you were okay. He didn’t let you go though, and grabbed your hand to pull you towards the bus stop.

“Well you’ve come all the way here, wanna go to my favourite arcade?”

He didn’t even wait for your answer, but pulled you onto the bus and to the  seat at the very back. Seeing his long legs squished together and his knees hitting the back of the seat in front of him, you let out a giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked you.

“Your legs... you must be uncomfortable.”

You shuffled over so he could move his legs over to your side. The cute shorts that he wore and his pale, exposed skin made you want to poke his legs. They looked as soft as mochi.

While he was staring out the window, you quickly poked his leg and looked away. Wooseok poked you back in response, starting a poking war that caused the two of you to miss your stop.

It was okay though, because you got to walk back to the arcade and pass through a pretty park.

“[y/n]!” Wooseok said. “We should have a picnic in there someday.”

“That sounds nice,” you admitted, watching some kids running through the green grass, chasing each other.

The arcade was quite a small one with mostly claw machines.

“You like claw machines?” you asked the tall boy.

“Well...” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I just really wanted to win you something.”

So he set off one a mission to win something from one of the claw machines, but it turned out to be harder than he’d thought. There were many frustrated groans that escaped his lips and he even hit one of the machines, earning the both of you a glare from the worker.

“Don’t worry [y/n], I’m going to get it this time,” Wooseok said, pouting as he carefully moved the claw around with the handle.

“It’s okay, Wooseok,” you told him. “You’ve already spent so many tokens!”

When he pressed the button and the stuffed animal was captured by the claw, lifted higher, dropping into the compartment, both of you high-fived one another in excitement.

“See, I got it!” Wooseok exclaimed, handing you the result of his hard work.

“It’s so cute... It even looks like you,” you said, holding it up to his face.

“Well I guess that means you’re stuck with me for life,” he said with a cheeky grin as he left the arcade. 

You ran to catch up with him, trying to shrug off his comment.

🍎

After spending your summer being in touch with a worried Wooseok every day and meeting up with him several times a week, the two of you were laying down in the sand at the beach. The sun had set and it was getting dark, but the calming sound of the deep blue waves and the soothing, chilly breeze was putting your mind at ease.

Another year of classes would be starting after the coming weekend, and you were trying to get as much rest up until that point.

Kicking at the darkened sand with your shoe, you looked up at Wooseok, who was staring at the sky. There was a glint in his eyes that you’d never seen before, and he seemed to be deep in thought.

Looking up the sky for yourself, you admired the navy colour and the dim stars that tried their best to shine through. Your gaze trailed back down to Wooseok and you stared at the straight outline of his nose.

Boop.

Wooseok’s nose gently squished under your finger as you touched it, and his eyes shifted to your face.

“What are you doing?” he asked in his deep voice.

“Booping your nose.”

He shifted in his position so that he could face you, and your heart felt like it was gasping in shock at how close the two of you were.

“[y/n],” Wooseok called out softly, even though he was right next to you.

“Yes?” you mumbled.

“Has it been lonely liking me all this time?”

Your eyes shifted down to the shore where the waves seemed to hesitate before falling on top of the sand.

“I’ve been controlling my heart, so don’t worry,” you reassured him, meeting his eyes again. His facial expression held pity, but also something you couldn’t quite describe. His small smile gave you a peek of his teeth, which you always told him you adored.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Wooseok said. Then he pressed his lips together in a smirk, turning his back to you as he quickly looked through his bag for something.

He turned back to you with an apple in his hand.

“Apple-ogy,” he said, wheezing at the corny mess of a joke that just escaped him.

You pressed your lips together, supressing a laugh.

“What’s the apple-ogy for?” you asked him, lightly punching his shoulder.

“I think, [y/n],” Wooseok said, choosing his words carefully. “I think I’ve actually liked you for some time too, but I made it seem like it was only you who liked me, I’m sorry.”

“You what?” you asked. “Since when?”

“When you ghosted me in that chemistry class and things fell apart with my s/o, I found myself worrying about you more than I worried about myself. And now I can’t even go a day without hearing from you. I really think I like you, [y/n].”

“Are you sure?” you asked him quietly. You didn’t want him to mistake his feelings as any sort of love if it was something else; you didn’t want him to feel bad that you liked him.

You wanted him to be sure of his feelings.

“Yes, [y/n]. This is kind of cringe and sappy to say, but even now Ireallywanttowrapmyarmsaroundyou and hold you,” he muttered quickly.

A smile made its way on your face before you even knew it, and you reached out to hug Wooseok first.

“If you’re sure, then I’m glad,” you hold Wooseok, who snaked his long legs in between yours, pulling you closer. You were laying on his chest now while he laid on his back, your ear against his ribs, listening to his heartbeat.

His arms were the only thing that held you in place.

🍎

When classes finally began again, you and Wooseok had purposely taken the same elective. You both enjoyed it, which was a bonus, but you would also be able to see each other in class everyday.

On the first day, you had to rush to your shared class from another class. You instinctively walked towards the front row, scanning for free seats. A tall boy was sitting with his black bag on the seat next to him, and you felt nostalgia deep in your gut.

Walking towards him, you realized that this was exactly who you thought it was. Wooseok looked up just before you reached where he sat, and with a big smile, moved his bag to the floor so you could sit beside him.

“Still saving seats for me?” you asked him as you settled in.

“It’s not my fault you’re always late,” he said, fake annoyance in his tone.

[storiesforallfandoms]

feeling used ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2105

request?: yes!

@kellysimagines : “I was wondering if you could write a imagine where the reader is a hairdresser and she is best friends with Rook and he introduces her to mgk and they become really close and after a couple of dates they started dating and she goes with him too premieres and shows and stuff and he gives her presents and stuff and people in the media think she is using him for the fame and money and he is on tour and he somehow believes it and we break up and one day he finds out his ex spread the rumor and he comes to my salon and he apoligizes and he proposes there?”

description: when rumors start about the relationship between a super successful rapper and a normal hairdresser, they start to get to colson’s head, and he makes the worst decision

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

the ex in question i’ll be using is chantel, but i just want everyone to know that i don’t have anything against chantel irl. i don’t even really know her all that well XD

Dating someone famous was as both amazing and tiring at the same time, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

You were just a normal hair dresser, nothing to extravagant, just a hair dresser in a local salon in downtown LA. Sometimes famous people came in, but the place wasn’t anything that anyone famous was raving about. But you liked it that way, you preferred the smallness of the salon, and of your life. The only big, show business thing in your life was that your best friend was a drummer for some famous rapper that you hadn’t really heard of until your friend started touring with him. And that’s when your life truly got crazy.

Rook introduced you to Colson and it was like love at first sight. You both clicked right away, and after a few dates you decided to make it official. You started joining Colson on red carpets for his movies and to parties for his album releases. He bought you anything and everything you could ever want, and had you spoiled within months of being together. Not that any of that mattered. You were just happy to be with him.

Of course, with a relationship with a famous celebrity came hate. The hate started just a month after your relationship, and at first it was the usual “you don’t deserve to be with him”, “you’re a skank”, “lmao he deserves better” type comments, which were easy to ignore. But within the past month or so, things escalated. People were claiming that you had been using Colson to get publicity. Someone had told the press that ever since you and Colson had started dating, you started getting lots of clients, especially famous ones, and that once you were big enough you were going to dump him.

That couldn't be more wrong. Your clientele stayed the same after you started dating Colson. You never once mentioned that you were a hairdresser or for where in any interviews, not that you really got involved in many of Colson’s interviews anyways. The hate didn’t bug you, however. You were so in love with Colson that you could care less what anyone else thought about you.

You were finishing up a clients hair one day when one of your colleague’s clients stopped to look at you.

“Are you (Y/N)?” she asked. “MGK’s girlfriend?”

“I am,” you said with a smile.

She glared at you and hissed, “Attention whore!” before turning and walking out of the salon. You rolled your eyes. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence either.

“What was that about?” your client asked. She was a regular, a nice lady in her mid 40s that came in at least once a month to get her hair re-dyed. She was probably one of your favourite clients.

“Just some fangirl of my boyfriend who believes I’m using him for attention,” you told her. “It’s nothing new, I’ve been over it for so long.”

“You really don’t deserve that. You’re such a nice girl!” she told you. You smiled gratefully at her.

“Hey, (Y/N),” called the receptionist of the salon. “Call for you, says it’s your boyfriend.”

“Tell him to give me a minute, I’m just finishing with a client.”

When you finished up and sent your client along her merry way, you almost skipped with happiness over to the phone and answered with a cheery, “Hey baby!”

There was a brief pause. Confused, you repeated, “Colson? You still there?”

“Hey (Y/N),” came his familiar voice. You wanted to smile, talking to Colson always made you smile, but he didn’t sound very happy. You furrowed your brow in worry.

“Are you okay, babe?” you asked him.

“We need to talk.”

The worst four words to hear from anyone. The look on your face must’ve alerted your receptionist that something was wrong as she got up from her chair and offered it to you, saying she was going to “check on something”.

You sat down on the chair. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

“I...I don’t think we should continue our relationship.”

And just like that, your heart ripped in two. You tried not to start crying, since the salon was currently filled with your coworkers and their clients. You took deep breaths to stop yourself from crying.

“Why?” you asked him. “Colson, what’s wrong?”

Colson sighed. “I just...I don’t like this feeling that you’re using me, (Y/N).”

Your eyes widened then. “What? Colson, don’t tell me you believe those rumours. You know I’m not using you for fame! I haven’t gained anything from our relationship other than just getting to be with you. You can even ask my coworkers if you want, I haven’t gotten any new clients or any new publicity.”

“It just doesn’t feel like a relationship,” Colson continued. “We don’t even talk all that much since I’ve been on tour, and I’m always buying you things - “

“You insist on buying me things!” you cut him off. “And I work all day. I text you before work, I text you on my breaks, and we facetime every night. I can’t talk to you all day when we’re both busy, Colson.”

He was silent before simply saying, “Goodbye (Y/N).”

You held the phone to your ear listening to the dial tone for a moment longer. You couldn’t believe that Colson actually believed the rumors! How could he believe you were using him? After all the amazing times you spent together the past year, all the private moments, the kisses, the “I love you”s that you genuinely meant. And he really chose to believe some internet trolls over his own girlfriend.

One of you coworkers noticed your blank stare and come over to ask if you were okay. You merely shook your head. She took the phone from your ear and placed it back on the desk before calling for the receptionist.

“Cancel any other appointments (Y/N) has for today,” she told her. “Put them in any openings she has for the next few days.”

“I can’t just cancel for no reason,” you said, although you felt numb and you knew working like this was a bad idea.

“I don’t know what just happened on the phone but I know it’s hindering your ability to work,” you coworker said. “Go home, get some sleep, cry if you have to. If you want, when I’m off, I’ll grab some wine and come over and we can drink and talk shit.”

You smiled gratefully and stood from the chair. You felt like you were going to pass out, but you powered through it and made it to your car. The minute the door closed, you started crying.

~~~~~~

Weeks came and passed and you hadn’t heard a single word from Colson. But you were seeing plenty about him online. It was as if the day after you broke up he was being seen partying with girls, getting flirty. One tabloid even reported that two days after your breakup he was spotted leaving a party with some girl. You came to the conclusion that this was the real reason he had broken up with you, which hurt even more because it felt like he didn’t even care about you. That the whole year you two had spent together and he really threw it away and started hooking up with other girls in a matter of days.

You decided to throw yourself into your work. You packed your days with as many clients as you could, and when you didn’t have clients you were practising new hairstyles on the mannequins. It kept you busy enough that you didn't think about Colson.

Unfortunately, the breakup also resulted in your friendship with Rook being damaged. You two barely spoke, and when you did it was very obviously awkward. Rook never called or facetimed you like he used to, mainly because he spent basically every moment he was on tour with Colson, and some days you could barely bring yourself to text him because it just reminded you too much of the relationship you had just lost.

As the days turned into weeks, it seemed like getting over Colson was getting easier. You were starting to push every bit of sadness you had out of your mind, and you were doing pretty good at blocking out the memories of you past year together. You were recovering just fine, until the bell over the door at the salon rang one day and a familiar tall man stood there.

You stared at him for a long time as he just stared back, his blue eyes filled with sadness. You rolled your eyes and turned away.

“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked. All your coworkers knew what Colson had done to you, and they were equally as angry at him. In fact, the girls were glaring at him in a way that you were sure he was going to die on the spot.

“No, but I’d like to talk to (Y/N) for a minute,” he said.

“She’s busy,” the receptionist responded. “Booked up solid for about a week. Want to make an appointment for next Friday?”

Colson shook his head and walked right past her. She called after him but he ignored her and walked right up to you. You ignored him for a moment, working on finishing up your clients hair, before turning to glare at him. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk,” he responded.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, you talked quite enough when you accused me of using you. I’m busy, go away.”

He grabbed your arm, almost causing you to cut a wrong spot on your client’s hair. “What the fuck?!”

“I made a mistake,” he told you. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to any of those rumors. I know you love me, I know what we had was real, I know what you were feeling was real. I was such a damn idiot, please I’m so sorry.”

Angry tears were starting to form in your eyes. You turned fully to face him. “Oh yeah, you seemed really fucking sorry when you were out partying with all those girls, when you were flirting them up, when you went home with one of them! What’s wrong? Did your new plaything dump you?”

Everyone was staring at your both, but no one was making any moves to stop the fighting. They were all too wrapped up watching what was happening to even think about breaking it up.

“No!” Colson snapped. “I never went home with any of those girls, I never even flirted with any of them! I partied to try and get you off my mind, but it never worked. You have to believe me (Y/N), all this time I’ve been thinking about you. I wanted to call or something but, being the idiot I am, I thought you had been using me. I found out recently that it was Chantel that started those rumours. Apparently she told some tabloid that she had witnessed us together in private, that you were very cold and that you obviously didn’t want me. She was trying to break us up thinking I’d go back to her. When I didn’t, she told me everything.”

He took your hands in his. “Baby, I’m really so sorry. I know sorry isn’t enough, I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up so bad. But I can’t be without you. You’re the love of my life, you complete me, as fucking corny as that is. I need you in my life.”

Suddenly he was lowering to one knee. You covered your mouth in shock as he took a ring from his pocket and held it up to you. “You have every right to say no, but I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to be able to call you my wife, to start our own family together, to just be happy together in general. (Y/N), will you marry me?”

Before the question was completely out of his mouth, you exclaimed, “Yes! Oh my god, yes!”

You had forgotten that you in the middle of a busy hair salon until your coworkers and their clients cheered with excitement as Colson stood and took you in his arms, placing a loving kiss on your lips. Not that you cared all that much. For the first time in weeks, you felt whole again, and you were beyond happy to be able to spend the rest of your life with Colson.

[recurring-polynya]

So, I did it, I protested.

I’m writing this post, not to brag, because to honest, I feel like I am doing a literal minimum of what I should be doing, but because people writing about their experiences online is really, really helpful to me, and if I can make even one person feel better about protesting, I want to do that.

Whatever you may have gathered from my online persona, I am actually a pretty shy and nervous person IRL. I hate confrontation, but at the same time, I believe that I have a moral imperative to stand up for what is right. This makes me sound much tougher than I am, but mostly it has always resolved itself into speaking up in work meetings when I think something is a bad idea, or pushing back against unrealistic deadlines, especially when it regards people under me in the management structure. This has always been incredibly stressful for me because it’s hooked right up to the anxiety part of my brain, so I have always forced myself to do it, and is part of the reason I am currently taking a break from working.

If you spend a lot of time on Twitter (and I am trying to do just enough to stay informed without getting bogged down in anxiety and depression), you are probably reading a lot about prepping for protests by covering your tattoos and locking down your phone and how to flip a riot shield or stare down a police horse. As I was leaving this weekend, I asked my husband to top up my water bottle for me, and he joking replied, “Stay hydrated! You know if you tell them you have to go before you do it, they can’t arrest you for peeing in a cop car!” I’m grateful for people sharing wisdom, I guess, but it also builds protesting into his huge, scary thing that can seem very intimidating.

I live between two major cities, and I have been doing a lot of handwringing over whether I should be going to the major protests, even though I have never been to a protest and getting into either city is a nightmare at the best of times and there’s a pandemic on (my county has a high incidence of Covid and only came out of lockdown last week and we are still being encouraged to stay home) and also I am a huge weenie coward. I kept saying that if there was a protest in my town, I would go. WELP, I went on Facebook (I only go on Facebook for local and school stuff) and saw that some local high schoolers had organized a march on Sunday. So I had to go.

I did not want to take my kids, which meant that I couldn’t make my husband go with me, so I started hunting around for a protest buddy. I texted my neighbor who went down to the Women’s Protest after the election. She wasn’t able to go, but she said she was proud of me. My sister, however, was able to go, and furthermore, there was a candlelight vigil in her town on Saturday evening (20 min away and I used to live there), so I agreed to go with her if she would go with me.

The candlelight vigil was a really good warm up for the march. My sister’s town is a Depression-era planned community and it is populated almost entirely by old hippies. Have you ever been to a white person drum circle? That’s basically what it was. It was in the little historic town plaza, where the credit union and the coop grocery are. It was probably 90% white. There were a lot of old folks, some with canes and walkers. There were some kids, including a toddler. My sister saw some people she knew from her neighborhood Star Trek watching group. There was drumming. A priest carrying a small, fluffy dog gave an opening prayer. The mayor, an incredibly young black guy (he said he was born the year of the Rodney King riots and I crumbled into dust) came out and gave a speech which included what the town was doing and what work needs to be done at the state level. There was more drumming, which included doing some chants. Now, I go to an Episcopal Church, so I am used to old people awkwardly clapping. I guess we were supposed to bring our own candles. A lady had brought a bag of extra little LED ones, and she gave us some. We lit the candles and dispersed along the main road and hung out with our candles until about 9. It was overall pretty small, but both the mayor and the drum lady who had organized it thanked everyone profusely for coming and said it was way bigger than they had expected.

The march in my town the next day was waaaaaaay bigger. As I mentioned, it was organized by some kids from the high school, and most of the publicity had been on Instagram, although after they got permission from the city, the city PR promoted it on Facebook and Twitter. It was in a park a mile or two south of my house. They had rented the grandstand. Overall, they did a great job organizing-- water, snacks and masks were provided, although most people brought their own. They had a sign language interpreter. Someone handed out signs; I’m not sure if that was organized or just someone did that one their own. The one thing that wasn’t great was that the PA system wasn’t loud enough and I had a lot of trouble hearing. I believe it was mostly students who spoke-- they were very passionate and I wish I could have heard better. The mayor (who is white) was there, but didn’t speak, which I think was great, actually. There was one douchebag who showed up with one of those Blue Lives Matter flags that’s an American flag with a blue stripe. He got up on stage at some point, but I have no idea what he had to say because everyone was booing him. The crowd was probably 75% black. I saw a significant number of signs like “Black Trans Lives Matter” and “Gay, Black and Tired,” which made me happy. We ran into my priest and her wife (they are in their 60′s/70′s) along with some other people I knew from church who are about 10 years older than me. After the speeches part, we marched up and down a major street which had been closed to traffic for the purpose. There was a lot of shouting that seemed pretty organic-- someone would start up a chant and lead it for a minute or two. I am a pretty good shouter, because I play hockey, but my voice was very tired by the end. There were cops along the route, and people would almost always start up a chant when we passed some cops, but it was very... cordial? I guess? The cops just stood there stoically and took their criticism. Afterward, the city police Facebook page issued a thank you to the protesters for a peaceful protest and the city posted a lot of pictures and positive messages about it.

I guess I’m telling you this story because I was pretty scared to go protest, but I did it and it wasn’t scary. I saw a lot of old people and people with canes and people who had brought small children. I didn’t know what I was doing, and that was okay. I wasn’t the only white person there. I made signs, and some people asked to take pictures of them. Maybe these were just local protests, but local protests matter, too! I am incredibly proud of the turnout for the one in my own town, and I was pleased to see various organizations around town endorsing it. The Historic Society is asking people to donate signs because they are devoted to documenting history as it happens. I am really grateful to my sis for going with me and to all my friends, online and irl, who are examples to me and make me want to be better (including @grindel-works and @unohanadaydreams ) and I feel better now about doing more of this in the future.

[drabblesaf]

Watermelon Sugar - Mieczysław Stilinski Imagine

REQUESTED: No, but I haven’t written for a while and I wanted to get back into it - and what better way to do so than combine two of my faves?

WARNINGS: Mentions of smut (implied), alcohol (they’re about 19/20 in this one - don’t drink underage kids!)

SUMMARY: After a one night stand with Stiles turns into many one night stands in a row, you begin to question your relationship with Stiles, and the euphoric high he puts you on.

NOTES: Whoaaaa, she’s back!

Yes, finally I’ve gained the motivation to write again, after being back at uni for about 4 months or so. Semester 1 of my second year has absolutely flown by, but I still missed Stiles throughout all of that.

Also, Harry Styles released new music, and I got inspired by that! (As well as a scenario that legitimately happened while I was at uni - we love drawing on IRL experiences for our writing! <3)

Anyways, thank you guys for sticking with me even though I haven’t been writing any new content for a while, I love getting notifications from you all still about new likes and reblogs on my stories! Hope you enjoy this one <3

Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin' And it sounds just like a song I want more berries and that summer feelin' It's so wonderful and warm

His lips on mine, heavy breathing. This had become standard practice for me and Stiles at any event we’d go to together with our friends, which would usually end up at a local club as we had grown up and started attending college. The first time was completely unexpected, happening just as we were drunkenly walking home together. His lips tasted like the whiskey he had been consuming that evening, and his honey brown eyes fought to remain locked on mine as we got to my door, him steadying my hand as I unlock my door.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he exhaled, lips smashing into my own once more as soon as the door was open.

“Says you, deciding to make out with me completely out of the blue Stilinski. Fuck, didn’t realise you ever wanted me in that way,” I mumbled as he pinned me back to my door, kissing me passionately as he did so.

We broke apart momentarily, and he moved some hair out of my face, looking at me softly before he said, “Mind if I stay the night?”

Breathe me in, breathe me out I don't know if I could ever go without I'm just thinking out loud I don't know if I could ever go without

That was a few months ago, and only a month or so after we’d met for the first time. We’d spent a couple of nights together as students usually tend to do when they’ve had something to drink…or rather, a few too many to drink. Somehow though, when in lectures together, we would never act as though we were secretly fucking behind everyone’s backs.

And it continued on like that up until the summertime, just before we all broke up for the summer holidays. One night, Stiles and I had just finished one of our sessions, and were laying in bed together, him running his fingers through my hair as I traced lazy circles on his forearms. “What are we doing, (Y/N)?” He asked quietly, and I shifted in the bed to look up at him.

“I mean, right now we’re sat in bed together after an amazing session,” I smirked, and he chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know, and I was thinking we’d never get to that point in all honesty Stiles.”

“Why not?”

“I just…I don’t know. Something just scares me on the inside and I don’t know if I can bring myself to talk about it just yet.” He nodded, and pressed his lips to my forehead. 

“Well, just know that whenever you do want to talk about it all, I’ll be right here, listening.” And with that, we both settled again, falling asleep on each other and waking up to another day of not talking about that moment.

Strawberries on a summer evenin' Baby, you're the end of June I want your belly and that summer feelin' Getting washed away in you

The next evening was a night where none of us were planning on doing anything besides a chilled film night together. For some reason though, after the night before, I felt butterflies at the slightest thought of seeing Stiles again. It wasn’t like him and I had done anything besides have sex for the past few months, but then the minute he called our relationship into question, there was a shift in my emotions.

Suddenly, everything seemed to revolve around him. I couldn’t properly be near him without thoughts playing on my mind of what it would be like to just be with him, as a proper couple. Stiles and (Y/N), out in public as an actual couple, not hidden away from prying eyes. Maybe I could discuss it all with him at the movie night, if we could even get the chance to find ourselves alone together. 

There was something about him that drew me into him, washing me away with the tides of the ocean as soon as he left me - leaving me clean, but lost within the depths of my own emotions. It kept me up at night sometimes, when I wasn’t with him I just needed something, something that I didn’t realise I truly needed until he said those fateful words last night.

“What are we doing?” I didn’t know about what he was doing, but for me I was slowly growing more and more in need of something - anything - remotely affectionate from the guy, and it seemed like the movie was that opportunity to get what I wanted.

Sitting together as the movie played (a scary one, nonetheless) I felt his hand grip mine as if to comfort me in some way. Whether or not he realised he was doing it was another matter, and it wasn’t until the big bad truly leapt onto the screen that I tested this theory of conscious decision making, burying my head into his shoulder to hide from the screams that erupted on screen. Almost instinctively, his hand flew up to my back to rub comforting circles into it, and I felt his lips pressed against the top of my head.

We stayed like that for at least 5 minutes, before I looked up at him once more. Fuck it.

I just wanna taste it, I just wanna taste it Watermelon sugar high

My lips pressed against his, I did the one impulsive thing I never thought I would be finding myself doing in front of anyone, let alone my friends who didn’t even know we’d been together at all. Initially, he froze up, then he moved his hands to pull me closer into him, continuing on the kiss with a slight smile against my lips as he did so. This made me smile too into the kiss, which tasted like the strawberry and watermelon gummy sweets he’d been consuming during the movie session.

We broke away, slightly out of breath, and our eyes met, golden brown and (Y/E/C) in the flickering light of the television screen. Or at least, normally it would be flickering, except the movie had been paused and wolf whistles were replacing the dialogue.

“Wanna know what we’re doing, Stiles?” I smiled, and he grinned back.

“Hopefully making it official with each other and all our friends after that?” 

“Thought you’d never ask.”

[scarfacemarston]

I’ve noticed it seemed to start after the shitshow where ppl got outed for doing this exact nonsense. Before the hate was localized to particular targets, but now its like anyone in the fandom with any type of stance against harassment has a chance of getting something thrown their way nowadays? However I think it’s important for everyone to remember: it’s only these types that’ll mess with you, no one with any value or credible merit worth listening to would ever speak to you like that (1/2)

Yes, apparently I’m a “hypocrite” for calling that out. It’s ironic, every time I have called out people, it’s literally for people who have done some of the worst things  like threatening to dox, some who have threatened to kill someone or triggering people so badly, that they had to leave. For other instances of drama, I’ve kept everything anoynmous or haven’t said a thing. I don’t want to get involved in drama. Who has time for that? I have so much IRL stuff to deal with the last thing I want to deal with is internet drama.  Yet I’m manipulating people.  The thing is, I’m never alone in these things. For the very few problematic people dealt with, there have been shared experiences for others. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had an instance where I’ve been the only target. I’m thankful for that in that I’m not alone, but also saddeneded that some have hurt others as well.   Some who have been harassed spoken up with me, others have chosen to stay quiet because it’s what’s right for them. I’m not going to out those people. Like the Meria situation, those people have chosen to speak up, but for others - they were bullied by people who were big in the fandom or were threatened with speaking. I’m not outing those people. I refuse to. That’s part of the reason why people come after me instead. I know I’m going to get anons or threatened with a call out post after this and it’s pitiful. In the past I HAVE been silent and sometimes, I still do because there is always backlash. It’s pitiful. I’ve literally stayed quiet about some of the harassment because of threats. I’ve seen people doxxed in this fandom so sadly, these threats have to be taken seriously. I literally was advised to go to the police by people I confided to and my therapist. That’s why I refuse to get involved with anything for my safety. 

If they think I’m “so manipulative” then don’t have anything to do with me then. Don’t follow my page. Block me. 

[ofaspcns]

chicago’s very own aspen santos has been spotted on madison avenue driving a mercedes g wagon, welcome ! your resemblance to bridget satterlee is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty first birthday bash  . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re flighty, but being starry-eyed might help you . i think being a virgo explains that .  3 things that would paint  a  better picture of you would be soft sunlight slipping through drawn shades, pointe shoes, hair slicked back into a perfect french twist. & ( cis female + she/her  ) 

hello my loves !! i’m ley  &  i’m so excited to be here !! i’m ur local disaster  //  colossal dumbass ( no lie i am lit rally so dumb ) !! i’m 18, go by she / her pronouns, and live in the est timezone. and a very random fun fact about me cis why not ??  my last name is fruit ; ) alritey,,,, since i know this is bound to get LONG & be a whole ass mess cause i haven’t written an intro in ages, so i’m just gonna get right into it, here’s my baby honey aspen !!!!

full  name : aspen filomena santos. preferred  names  besides :  usually always goes by aspen, but also okay with pen or penny. age  :  21. date  of  birth  :  september 14. zodiac  sign  :  virgo. current  residence  :  new york city, new york. home  town  :  chicago. occupation :  ballerina. gender  &  pronouns  :  cisfemale, she/her. sexuality  :  pansexual  &  panromantic.

backstory:

aspen filomena santos was born into stardom on september 14 to alesandro santos and elizabet kambalov. her father is an a-list actor/director, and her mother, a retired ballerina turned fashion designer.

she is the baby of the family, and the only girl out of five kids, so it’s only natural that she was always treated as a princess.  

aspen’s mother put her into ballet at a very young age. she had been wishing for a girl so she could have a dancer, and naturally, aspen fell in love with it. she would cry when ever she had to leave the studio, and once she got on stage for the first time, she never wanted to leave.

her mother enrolled her at the joffrey school of ballet  at age six. her mom spent her entire career with joffrey before retiring, so she always very heavily tried to influence aspen to dance with joffrey so she could kind of live through her. at the age of 18, she got offered a contract from both american ballet theatre and joffrey ( which btw, wouldn’t actually happen irl. but for rp proposes, we’ll say it does ). her mother wanted aspen to follow in her footsteps and accept joffrey ballet, but aspen chose abt. she’s always had a dream of living in NYC, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

so she's now a soloist with american ballet theatre. her mother is still mad at her for it, even four years later.

personality:

aspen has always been VERY independent. much to her parent’s dismay, who wished they could have coddled her and kept her as the baby for as long as possible. ever since she took her first steps, she’s liked to do things on her own. she’s also so insanely stubborn and determined. once she gets an idea in her mind there is no way she is being swayed from it.

her father is greek, so she fluently speaks the language. she travels a lot to greece to visit family that still lives there, and it is her favorite place ever. her mother is also russian but after she came to the states as a child, they never returned. aspen knows quite a bit of russian & can understand it when family speaks it, but doesn’t fluently speak it herself. 

she loves art… in like every form. dance, photography, painting, poetry. she’s just one of those super artistically talented people and everyone is just wondering h o w

she’s kind of shy until you get to know her ?? but once you do she’s just a lil ray of sunshine with a huge heart,,, she literally loves everyone & is a very selfless & loyal person. 

hardcore insomniac okay this girl NEVER sleeps. aspen’s also such a workaholic she has no clue what do with herself when she has days off.

aspen is a major perfectionist. she’ll stay for hours in the studio rehearsing if even just one step in her variation is wrong. her mom has always been very hard on her & expected perfection, so she took on the mind set and then some. if she messes up in a show or has a bad rehearsal she’ll mope for days 

she has a tendency to always see the good in things… she trusts that almost everything is good until proven otherwise, and it gets her hurt a lot

judging by her personality, most people would assume her to be a hopeless romantic, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. she def has philophobia, she’s never had good luck when it comes to love and emotional attachment when it comes to significant others scares the shit out of her. she has major trust issues, so she tends to just try and stay away from developing too deep of feelings for someone.

[aroacepagans]

The Aro Guide to Creating In-Person Community

Alright y’all, so only a month and a half after this post and I finally have some information to give you about one of the aro activism topics I suggested.

In-person groups are something that every community needs before it can do more on the ground activism, and creating in-person spaces is something I actually have some experience with so that’s where I’d like to start. This information is intended to be general, so you can apply it to creating a larger communal aro space, or to creating a smaller space for an aro subcommunity. Please also note that this is certainly not the *only* way to create an in-person space, every organization does things differently. This is just supposed to give basic and overarching information about how an in-person can be run, using the knowledge I’ve gained from working with several long-lasting LGBTQIA+ and religious groups.

Creating in-person community doesn’t have to take a lot of resources, but it can be hard to maintain. With this in mind, I would like to split this post into 4 parts: Creating a community, maintaining community, general advice, and the benefits of putting in the work. Let’s get started!

 Creating a community:

In order to create in-person community you need five things:

1. Space - You will always need a place to meet but take a deep breath, this isn’t the challenge you think it is. Many people get stuck on this, thinking that they’ll need to spend a lot of money to rent a space, but public parks, coffee shops, and free library meeting rooms (which, just fyi usually need to be reserved ahead of time) are all perfectly fine places to start a group.

2. Leadership- If you start a new group then you and anyone else you may have started it with, will probably become that groups leadership by default. If you’re the one setting up all the meetings then that makes you the person in charge whether you like it or not and this steers a lot of people away from starting new organizations. And I get that, most of us grow up with very intimidating ideas of what a ‘leader’ looks like and as a result, feel that’s leadership is too much responsibility to take on. But if we want in-person aro groups someones gotta do it, so as someone who has been running my church youth group for 3 years now, I’m here to tell you that my job is 90% herding cats and 10% arts and crafts. That’s it. As long as you know how to make lists, use craft scissors, and keep a schedule you’re perfectly qualified to be the person in charge, don’t let the idea of leadership intimidate you out of trying to start an in-person aro group.

3. Time - Especially when you’re first starting out creating a new group can take a lot of time and energy. So make a schedule, take as long as you need to, and if possible, split the work with other people. Putting everything together as quickly and with as little effort as possible is not the way to build an effective community, so go slow if need be, there’s no shame in that.

4. An online presence - Every modern organization needs an online presence. This can mean anything from making a Facebook group to creating a whole new website, but whatever you do, you will need a centralized online space where people can consistently find information about your events. If you’re not someone with a lot of web design skills then I recommend using Facebook, or, if you have the money for it, Meetup (Note: Meetup does tend to bring more people to an event than Facebook does, but I know many people have tight budgets, so like don’t worry too much if you can’t afford it. I know a lot of groups that do all their event organizing on Facebook and still have great attendance).

5. An Activity- Especially when a community is new, activities are often needed to get people talking to each other. Facilitated group discussions are, IMO, the easiest way to do this, but anything that gets people to talk with each other can work.  

Once you have all this the final step is to promote your group. And I mean actually promote it, don’t just make one post about it on your favorite social media site. Leave flyers in coffee shops, post about it on relevant Facebook groups, contact local queer groups and see if they’ll promote it, post about it on neighborhood blogs and bulletin boards. Don’t half-ass this part, aro’s are few and far between and you will need to be loud about your group's existence if you want people to find you.    

Maintaining Community:

Creating a community is one thing, but maintaining it is another and this is, arguably, the more challenging part of the process. Lots of new organizations never make it past their first few months of existence, but that’s not what we want for the aro community. So here’s are the things that,  in my opinion, are most necessary to keep a group going.

1. Persistence - There is a very good chance that the first few meet up’s you arrange will have low or no attendance. New groups are like that, and I know it’s discouraging, but don’t give up. Keep promoting and keep showing up, and then be prepared for no one else to be there. This may sound like an exercise in futility, but I promise it’s not. This summer my church youth group tried to set up a program for teen and young adult Pagans. It took four months for anyone outside of our youth groups to actually show up, but we kept meeting despite that, and now, eight months in, we have relatively high attendance. So bring a book, bring some other work that needs to get done, and if no one shows up do that instead. If you’re doing a good job of promoting your events someone will show up eventually.  

2. Have Help- Burn out is real, and trying to run everything yourself is the fastest way to fail, so figure out who can help you run things. Ideally, of course, the people helping you will be other aro’s, but many of us don’t have any irl aro friends so figure out your other options. You’re out to your sister and she’s really good at social media promotion? See if she'll help you get the word out about events. Your friend just really fricking loves graphic design? See if they’ll help you with posters, web design, informational pages, or other similar design needs. As your community grows other aros may be able to take over these tasks, but you will need help from the getgo, so make sure you have at least one or two people to share the work with.   

3. Have Community Guidelines- Humans! Are! Messy! And everyone has different ideas about what behaviors are and aren’t acceptable. A good way to prevent these differences from creating issues is to have a set of community guidelines. Put them up on your facebook/website/other social media so people can see them, or better yet, go over them at the beginning of each meeting, this will make sure that everyone knows your group's code of conduct. I suggest involving other community members in the creation of these guidelines so that everyone is happy with them.

4. Consistency- This isn’t necessary, but it is helpful. If you can make sure your group meets at the same time or in the same place every meeting it can help people fit your group into their schedule. That said, this isn’t always something that can be managed, so don’t be hard on yourself if it isn't possible. Consistency is an ideal, not a requirement.

5. Stay out of Drama- Drama can break up even the most stable communities, so while it’s sometimes unavoidable you should try to stay away from it (especially if you’re leadership). Play well with other queer organizations, and if possible, try to have community members that can act as mediators within the group. I’ve seen more communities then I can count break up because a few people couldn’t get along, don’t let the same thing happen to yours.

General Advice:

Make something you would want to go to

When first starting a group, make it something that you would be excited to participate in. What you want is likely to be what others want too, and if you’re doing something that you already love it will be a lot more bearable if other people don’t show up the first few times.

Look at other groups

If you’re still anxious about starting a group, take some time and go to some other small meet up groups first. See what they do, and if you’re comfortable, talk to the organizers about how they run things. It’s easier to get started when you can see that other people have done the same thing.

Money, money, money

Use free spaces, websites, and other materials as much as possible. Once an organization starts needing money just to exist funding will become the top priority no matter what other issues are going on. If you just love finances maybe this will work for you, but I think most of us get stressed out when money becomes an issue. Sometimes these things are unavoidable, but if you can organize your community without spending too much it will let you focus on other things.

 The Benefits of Putting in the Work:

Running an organization, especially as a volunteer, can often feel like a thankless job, but try and remember how much good it does. Community building can help you understand others better, it allows people to create necessary social networks, and most importantly, people with in-person communities can organize larger political action. Not everyone has the time or energy to start an aromatic group in their area, and that’s perfectly understandable, as we’ve seen it can be a lot of work. But if you can start a group, and you want to start a group, then your organization can do a lot of good

Here are some more resources on organizing communities, clubs, and meetups, that, while not aro specific, might still give you some ideas. Hopefully some of them will be helpful for y’all!

(x) (x) (x)

[solastnightidreamt]

The company I used to work for was having their Christmas party and I was invited by several people so I went. There was a whole Secret Santa deal that was supposed to happen after dinner and we all just hung out with our presents. There was a food course and apparently part of the food wasn’t to be eaten till a certain time because it was like a game or something and a bunch of people had eaten it bc they were hungry and we weren’t given instructions not to. Our manager kinda panicked because people had ruined the game so I suggest we team up to play this game since not everyone had eaten their things- they were like jello molds of like spoons? Anyway, we played the game and then did the exchange. I had got one of the girls I was cool with and gave Emily her present. Apparently the manager who fired me irl and in my dream got me, so he gave me my gift and attached to the outside was a grocery store gift card and a $20 with a note that said ‘since you can’t do your dream job’ implying that my dream job was to work for him and that me being fired hindered me from doing that. 

I got mad and showed it around to people and made a statement basically saying that this was not my dream job and that I was actually doing my dream job and was successful at it. Basically a big 'fuck you for thinking so highly of yourself and this place and thank you for firing me because it led me to happiness’ and threw the gift card and money back at him.

Some people got awkward but others were like ‘yeah fuck you man’ so the party continued. Part of the gift exchange was like a ‘prompt’ exchange, so everyone was supposed to make/gift a home decor piece based on a word/emotion. I don’t remember what my prompt was but my manager had given me one that he made for me and it was alright but I remember being jealous of the one that was gifted to the manager. It was really cool, just this big like 6foot tall wall piece that was a bronze male figure and there was a piece or metal or wood or something set behind him that was painted in a way that made it look like the man was fighting against the wind, and it was all held together/framed in a brown/brassy curved rectangular rod.

At the end of the party I had to sign some paperwork saying I hadn’t bought anything from the store because legally I wasn’t supposed to be there without being an employee. Signing that was like my lawful proof that I didn’t steal anything so I signed it and then out of spite looked around and found a couple of small things to steal on principle. 

When everyone started leaving the manager pulled and said he felt kinda bad about the gift and his insinuation and wanted to offer me something. He took me outside and showed me a car. 

He said it had been left to the company and they had no use for it and remembered that I liked Supernatural so he wanted to give me the opportunity to buy it before anyone else did. It was the wrong year and color but the car was still amazing so we worked out a payment schedule and I was able to drive away with it. For some reason my sister and her husband were suddenly there on the street and she stopped me and asked if I could drive her husband home. I was a little weirded out as to why but I said yes, so as we pulled onto the road I told him it was gonna be a rough ride home and apologized because I’d never driven this kind of car so I was gonna be a little off my game trying to figure it out. 

There was only like half a tank of gas and I wanted to fill up so we stopped at the gas station and suddenly my bro-in-law turned into the coworker I got for my secret santa. She was cool and we were at the gas station but it was like the layout of a parking garage with multiple levels. We were on the second level and when I got out to pump my gas the area where you stand in front of the pump was cut out and I could see down into the main level of the gas station where the clerk was. 

I was standing near the rear of the car trying to lean over this opening in the ground to pay but the card reader was fucked up and spit out my card along with an 8 dollar scratcher (which I don’t think even exist) so I had to go inside to pay/redeem the scratcher. The line inside was super long so Emily and I left and went to find a bank or something. She was driving and I told her to be careful with the tires and car and she ended pulling over so I could finish driving. 

I pulled up to a weird mall and we got out and were looking around for something and then I was suddenly in a hippie type store with some rich black dudes in Vegas. We were looking around for souvenirs and I was like lowkey tryna steal them because I was too broke to buy them and as we were nearing the exit of the store one of them was like ‘ok lets go checkout’ and he took my stuff to the register with him so I followed and as he was paying the store turned into a bank. Off to the side where they usually have like waiting chairs and little cubicles for the banker who handles accounts/loans stood one tiny desk and then the rest of the space was filled with a bunch of blue upholstered church pews. 

I was waiting for the dudes I was with to finish so I could get up to the teller window when Meat Loaf

Yes, ^^that Meat Loaf (what the actual fuck, brain?) walked into the bank with a fucking shotgun. 

We all hit the floor and scrambled to hide while he went off on this big racist rant and shot one of the black guys I was there with. I was arguing with one of the bank tellers to call 911 but they wouldn’t so I finally wiggled my phone out and hid under a pew. 

When the emergency operator answered she said, ‘You’ve called 911. Can you tell me if Indian is closed or not?’ (Indian Ave is a street where I live that is closed like fucking half the year due to heavy wind/sand, or extreme flooding when it rains.) 

I whispered, ‘That doesn’t matter I’m not there.’ 

“I need you to verify if Indian is closed or not so we can verify the call as real.’ 

I was literally shaking under the pew, terrified of getting shot and appaled that this was happening on the phone, so I just said closed to get it over with. 

I heard her typing and then she said, ‘Oh it actually just opened up, ok, how can I help you?’ I told her I was in a bank in Vegas and there was a shooter there and she kinda groaned and went, “Ooooh, yeah, um, I don’t think I can help you since you’re not here.’ 

I told her I was out of town and just called 911 but didn’t know how to call local 911 so my phone automatically dialed my hometown police as if 911 services were based on where you lived vs where you physically are when you call. 

I was shaking and whisper-yelling at her when I saw his shadow move from where he was. He walked around the pews and I was scooting along the floor trying to stay under the cover of the pews but he got to the front and he saw me and knew I was on the phone. 

I was just crying and staring up at him and he leaned in a little and said, I’m not here for you’ but then he started walking to me. I was backing away from him on the ground and he reached down to grope my arm/shoulder and said something but I cut him off and yelled ‘don’t touch me asshole’ because it felt like he was gonna try to rape me or something. I kicked him away with my foot and apparently that was not the right move because it made him mad that I didn’t trust that he wasn’t gonna hurt me, so then he grabbed his shotgun and was going to shoot me. 

I ran out of the building and hid around the corner, yelling at the lady on the phone to help me and found a door on the exterior of the building to try and find somewhere more secure to hide. I would up in a weird spa/drug factory/fucking medical lab or something. A good looking guy immediately found me and was trying to comfort me and get the deets while not invoking a panic and I was sitting down shaking and telling him everything that was going. He sat me down in a lobby type deal and across from where we were sitting there was a door with a big glass opening at the top. Apparently this place connected to the bank vault because I looked up and Meat Loaf was walking down the hallway toward me/this door and I yelled that it was him and he was after me so I started running trying to find a place to hide. There was a solid cement wall near the door beneath the glass and I didn’t have time to run anywhere else so I shoved myself on the ground there and he shot through the glass on the door above me, killing a couple of people that weren’t on the ground. I bolted and ran down a hall bursting through doors trying to find the best place to hide. 

One room was like a lab where they made drugs and there were powders all over the place and a bathroom in there but it felt too obvious so I ran back down the hall and found some regular bathrooms/locker rooms. One of my sisters was in there and asked what was going on and I yelled ‘shooter’. 

She ran off toward him and the I heard him coming my way as I ran around this bathroom/locker room trying to find a place to hide.