#dark readings

[struggling-intuit]

sooooo bang chan sugar daddy?

subject || bang chan

title || of his sugar daddy tendencies

kai || rover

warnings || EW MINORS, SHOO; gn!reader, manipulative!chan, chan takes advantage of reader's naivete, penetration, anxiety about sugaring, coercion, isolation, other yandere themes, pseudo-stockholm maybe, chan gives you what you've always wanted but is it?

A/N: This is a work of fiction. My headcanon has no bearing on the very real existence of its subject. Please skip this reading if you are uncomfortable with any warning found above. Otherwise, enjoy this bit of dark fantasy.

Chan's definitely on his findom shit, but it goes both ways.

Well, it actually goes one way, his way, but he's got an Olympic gold medal in pretending that you have as much control in this relationship as he does.

Spoiler, you don't, but it's cute you think otherwise.

Chris really struggles with boundaries and also restraint, so expect him to be casually dropping life-altering gifts on your head: luxury cars, a vacation home in the Maldives, and more shit you never asked for, maybe didn't even want, but who are you to turn down the sugar? Especially not his sugar, what if he leaves you?

Just take the car, baby.

The apartment he bought you in the city also came out of nowhere. That was the first major purchase he'd gifted you, just a month and a half into your arrangement.

Imagine your surprise when he showed up with luggage. Just for visiting, he'd said, but is it really visiting if you're getting all your mail forwarded to this address?

Don't make a fuss, the bitter medicine only makes the sugar sweeter.

He wanted to keep an eye on you anyway, he's looking out for you, and all you do is complain. Appreciate what he's given you for once.

It'll probably occur to you one day when you're bent over the kitchen table, skull pressed hard against the custom granite countertop by Chan's giant hand as he ruins you from behind, that you never fucking wanted this.

So you'd been in a hard place? So you'd taken a bit of his money? He'd paid you back in spades by taking all of you.

Now that you're thinking about it, you haven't seen anyone else in months. He's just kept you cooped up here, a lovely little vase for his endless shelf. A poor little baby to spend his sugar on.

But you have to ask yourself. Is it so bad?

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keep them asks coming :)

[septemberkisses]

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

[pocket-dragon]

Durge murder aura detected

[shisasan]

Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own [originally published 1929]

[abby-30]

dark academia 🍂🌙

[blumenundpoesie]

in dedication to summer rain and the smell of petrichor

[faerieicetea]

do you want to be a bookstore owner, cafe owner or a flower shop owner

[lone-nyctophile]

~ Whitney Hanson

[skylark-234]

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[teneebris]

photo credits to pinterest.

[struggling-intuit]

at their most perverted

nct 127 || DARK 18+ blurbs + drabbles

vibe || focus x sticker - the third album

warnings || DON'T YOU HAVE SOMEWHERE ELSE TO BE, MINORS?; femme!reader, perv behavior, masturbation, panties panties panties, peeping tom, light stalking, reader is oblivious, non-con touching, cunnilingus, somnophilia, singular mention of a diet, secret photos, 127 is beyond pervy but just cuz it's you

mark || jacking off in your room

or outside your door while you sleep, whatever makes the most sense in the moment. and if it did happen in your room well, that's your fault, you should know better than to leave him all alone. for that long

he thinks he hears you coming and is rushing to stuff it back in his pants. can't have you knowing about his little hobby, you know? you don't

false alarm though, he can continue uninterrupted

smol baby is a bit too shy to grab a pair of your panties. he already feels guilty just being in the room with all those nasty thoughts, so he'll fantasize about cotton and lace and the perfume you were wearing today while thrusting into his own fist against the bed

shit, the sheets

taeyong || peeking up your skirt

not a bad bone in this man's body

eyes don't have bones in them, do they? okay, just making sure

tae doesn't mean to look when you bend over, walk up stairs, sit criss-cross-applesauce on the floor. he's craning his neck out of concern, you see. what if you were exposed? some guys will stop at nothing to get a glimpse of... so it's the strawberry pair today?

you really should wear longer skirts

johnny || talking nasty

out of all the boys, johnny's probably the most guilty of gossiping

what can he say? the man isn't afraid of what he wants, and he's certainly not afraid of talking about the ways he wants it. in detail

and i'm not talking positions. where, when, why, how, what you'll sound like beneath him, the whole fanfiction is on the table

he's mostly this graphic to make mark uncomfortable (or maybe mark just gets uncomfortable on his own) but if he's being honest, you awake something feral in him

and imagine her on that table, nothing but her panties

taeil || peeping tom

similar to taeyong he's watching you in ways that he shouldn't, but his sessions of perversion last much longer than a glance or two

taeil is the type you should expect peeking through a crack in the door. the little gaps between your blinds have never failed him, and he's always waiting for a show

he likes seeing you fresh from your shower, standing around in the nude while you ponder over the recurring jeans vs sweatpants debate. he'll add his two cents: sweatpants today babe, it's cold out

but what he likes even more, maybe even loves, is how adorable you look strumming at your clit, the hand over your mouth barely muffling the tiny gasps and moans

are you thinking about him right now?

haechan || hugging on you nonstop

it was cute at first but now he needs to take a hint

haechan is always right on top of you whenever you're in the same room and texting constantly when you're not

he must've never learned no as a child

it's not like he's even asked you out, he's just always there, holding you tight, pressing himself deeper into your breasts. though you still haven't caught onto that. you're so innocent, expecting any kind of virtue from him

and when he comes bounding to you like a puppy, a leech prepared to suck onto its newest host, you never put up a fight. he attaches himself to your arm like it's an extension of himself

you're his, didn't you know?

jaehyun || going down on you while you sleep

he's such a gentleman with it, even when he's absolutely violating your boundaries. jae just wants you to enjoy every moment with him, even the ones you aren't conscious for

you could be three years married to him and he's still between your legs at three in the morning, witching hour

you better watch out, he's brainwashing you with that sweet tongue

another decade goes by and you just continue waking up satisfied everyday, skin glowing, mind sunny...

that diet he told you not to go on is really working, isn't it?

jungwoo || taking dirty pictures

jungwoo may just be your best friend in the whole group. he's so easy to talk to, and even if he can be a bit awkward sometimes, he's nowhere near as weird around you as the rest of them

he's always wanting to go out too, takes you to all the places in and out of seoul with pinterest-worthy scenery and snaps you from a million angles with the little digital camera he's started carrying everywhere

a new hobby, he tells you, and he isn't wrong. he's using all those expensive trips and rental houses and fancy hotel suites to capture you in ways you can't even imagine

the for-your-eyes-only pink lace babydoll you packed for the yacht trip last summer has been seen by more than just your eyes

lock the door next time, won't you?

doyoung || buying dirty pictures

doie doesn't even talk to you much. he's shy

he has to rely on jungwoo's rapport with you for even the tiniest piece of your beauty

the piece in question? those goddamn pictures

jungwoo didn't even offer to sell them, doyoung just caught him once and maybe kinda blackmailed him into a prosperous business relationship

baby woo gets to keep your friendship and doie gets to keep the pictures. or a high quality copy, at least

night falls and he's pulling them out of their secret hiding place (not telling), studying them over and over. won't even touch himself, you're much too precious to stain with degenerate cum

as if he would jack off and risk ruining his beloved keepsake

yuta || whispering naughty nothings

yuta is so distracting

you'll be minding your own business, getting your work done as usual, and he'll come up behind you

"you're so cute today" right against your ear

it's not necessarily what he's saying that's naughty, but the way he does it? the tone of voice, the half-lidded gaze, the way his fingers ghost across your lower stomach as he pulls away... yeah, he's dangerous

not to mention you're on the job

and he keeps telling you how pretty you look, how good you smell, how tempting you are. comments that would make you blush on their own, but yuta makes a couple words

so

much

more

read more nct headcanons here

and check out the main masterlist here

imagine this yuta and you're his manager or stylist oh my god. anyway, asks are open babes :)

[soracities]

Dunya Mikhail, from Diary of a wave outside the sea (trans. Elizabeth Winslow and Dunya Mikhail) [ID'd]

[academia-core]

elaborate book covers

[madeofmemoriesblog]

Moodboard

[shisasan]

April 10, 1927 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]