#even when I’m looking at memes and text post and shit I’m like

[99zurins]

summary: wonwoo knows a lot, especially how your thoughts get into your head. when he knows you had a bad week, he wants to shower you with the gentle love you always give him when his thoughts get into his head.

note: god its been ages since i posted but alas!! this was a request for a friend of mine, and it helped me get out of my writing slump. enjoy <3

pair: f!reader x jeon wonwoo

tags: soft bf!wonwoo, SMUT (minors dni), communication during sex, kink exploration, spit, slight choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, multiple positions (sorta), safe sex, oral (both m. and f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), orgasm denial, edging, pet names (wonwoo calls reader baby, sweetheart, good girl, princess), soft dom!wonwoo, reader goes into subspace, wonwoo takes care of reader, reader works at a clinic

word count: 6.9k

[ wonu : babe

wonu: how are you feeling? ]

like shit, you want to text him. i’m not ok. so much, too much, is happening all at once your brain doesn’t know what to process first. it’s been like this from monday morning: you were short-staffed because three co-workers got sick, people kept complaining about the wait times, what could you do, you just work here. tuesday to thursday was absolute hell: how does someone mess up inventory TWICE? your co-worker doesn’t know shit. how did she get hired anyway! you don’t want to even think about friday’s disaster. you called in sick today, because fuck the clinic, and made sure you swapped your closing shift at the bookstore with someone else. your head is in chaos, all while managing a terrible migraine.

from the tylenol, the long naps, to the drops of essential oil on your pillow– none of it isn’t even helping.

you haven’t spoken to your boyfriend for a few days, there’s the i love yous, occasional memes or cat pics he sends, but it’s been quiet. he’s been busy too, he got hired by a better design company, meaning better schedules and much well-deserved salary, and has been finishing up his last few shifts on his secondary job at a milk tea shop. but since he’s one of the long time workers at the shop, he’s been busy training newbies to replace him, hence why he’s been awake earlier than you, and comes home so late. you know he’s home when he quietly slips into bed after a shower, snuggling you from behind, holding your small frame. but you miss the cuddles when you play games together, the shared silence with him, looking at dumb cat videos. everything about him, really, you miss. even though you live with him now.

[wonu: are you at your bookstore job tonight?]

you first tell a truth: you called in sick for both of your jobs. then, you lie, saying your friend-slash-coworker is coming over to talk about stuff.

[wonu: don’t lie to me

wonu: babe

wonu: i know you had a bad week]

it was just busy, you respond. you’re busy, baby. you’re probably tired too. we can talk about this later.

[wonu: i’m not ever tired when it comes to you

wonu: i’m gonna leave work right now

wonu: idc]

you feel tears well up. you not replying back is all he needs to know.

wonwoo shows up in twenty minutes, holding a bag of takeout, bubbletea, and a cute stuffed animal. you wondered how on earth did he get here so fast, considering it takes him about thirty-five minutes to get to back home, but you’re too tired to say anything. all he does is give you a hug, plant a soft kiss on your head, and you try really hard not to cry. he does the thing where he scratches softly under your chin, like how he usually would greet a cat, while your head leans into his chest.

“hi baby,” wonwoo finally speaks, giving you a soft smile. it fades when his cold fingertips linger around your cheekbones, and stops below your dark circles. “long week?”

“mm.” you try to pretend everything is okay. he knows you aren’t. he places more gentle kisses between your eyes and on the bridge of your nose.

“was hoping you would tell me, actually.” wonwoo quietly locks the front door, takes off his shoes, and you quickly scramble to find him some house sandals that would fit him. “baby, it’s okay, I don’t need slippers. none of them fit me, remember?”

wonwoo doesn’t wear the house slippers because the five house pairs are all yours. you insist on getting him a pair, he always refuses. you cough out a laugh, and you hear wonwoo giggle.

“right, i forgot, sorry,” you mumble. “what food did you get?”

“i got you your favourite,” pho from the restaurant where you had your first date with him in. it’s his favourite, too, “i got us a matcha cake slice and a strawberry one to share, too.” cakes from the cafe on the third date.

you nod quietly, and you watch him leave the takeout on the table. he pulls out a container (which is most likely the cakes), and grabs the two plastic forks.

“wonwoo, i’m not…” hungry, you trail off, you weren’t in the mood to eat, but wonwoo looks over at you, with such tenderness. his black turtleneck hugs his torso nicely, square glasses makes him look like a nerd, when did he get a haircut? and he looks over at you, attentive and with endearment. sometimes you wonder how you deserved him. “i’m…”

wonwoo finishes putting the takeout on the table, and approaches you with quiet steps. he cocks his head to the side, a motion to tell you come here, love, and you take a few steps closer, fiddling with the sleeves of the navy oversized sweatshirt (which belongs to wonwoo).

“how can i be here for you, baby?” he pulls you closer, rubbing small circles on your scalp with his thumb. you don’t really respond, but all you do is plant your face straight to his chest, wrapping your arms around his frame. you feel a low chuckle erupt from his chest. “baby, i’m not sure how my chest is… supportive enough.”

“well, they’re bigger than mine! it’s comfy!” you whine quietly, and wonwoo laughs at your answer. he embraces you, slightly moving side to side.

“i do want an answer, if you’re able to tell me.”

“um,” you hum, looking up to him, while he still scratches your head. “i kind of just want to cuddle… tell me about your new hires, or show me dumb videos of mingyu and seungkwan being stupid again, i really don’t wanna think about what this shitty week has done to me.”

“okay, we can do that.” he hums, and scoops you up, holding you like a sack of rice.

“why are you holding me like this.”

“i wanna open the door.”

“i…” you suddenly remember the bowl of pho sitting on the table. “wait, wonwoo, the pho–”

“we have a microwave.”

“i can walk to put it away first!”

“i wanna spoil you, princess. you deserve something good. no need to think about anything.”

you feel your brain go sideways.

“… okay.” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, ignoring the heat flushing in your cheeks, and the faded pink tint in wonwoo’s ears.

wonwoo puts you on the bed, and wraps you in a blanket burrito after a little cute protest and some kisses, telling you to wait while he quickly freshens up. you feel like you’re gonna fall off the bed, why did your boyfriend put you by the edge of the bed? idiot. after showering, he changes to a comfortable black muscle tee (gifted by soonyoung) and gray sweatpants. when he returns to the bedroom, he turns on the lampshade before shutting off the main light in the bedroom. he goes back by the bed, and unrolls you out from the blanket burrito, giggling as you find yourself rolling towards the middle of the bed.

“wonwoo, what the fuck,” you find it so silly, you’re trying to contain your laughter but it’s not working. you feel wonwoo climb up on the bed, and wonwoo seems like he’s having fun removing (more like unrolling) you out of the blanket. wonwoo starts pressing a few of your pressure points gently, making you giggle even more. “what are you, FUCK, that tickles, STOP THAT!”

“noooo,” wonwoo sounds like a child, and pushes off the final part of the blanket off your body. you’re laughing loudly on the bed, as wonwoo carefully pulls you up but you feel limp from laughing. he helps you sit up in front of him, and you think he’s finished with his confusing act, but he grabs the blanket, wraps you both in it, proceeds to embrace you close, and accidentally manhandles you, him hitting the bed while you’re on top of him. “oh, this wasn’t what i planned to do.”

“what?” you ask him. “manhandle me?”

“yeah, i got too excited, i’m sorry, baby.”

“well, if it makes you feel better,” you trace shapes on his cheekbones with your finger. “i liked it. had no thought in my head, just vibes.”

“mm,” wonwoo just hums, lightly patting your butt. a hand rests behind his own head, inadvertently flexing, and you mindlessly trace the healed floral ink that wraps around his bicep. “one of the new hires likes fruits basket, it reminded me of you.”

“WHAAAAAT?” you look at him with excitement gleaming in your eyes. you slap his chest lightly. “tell me more, tell me more!”

“well, she has a tattoo of kyo’s bracelet and named her pet hamster after yuki.” wonwoo says, playing with your hair. wonwoo started watching the series for you, although he hasn’t finished yet. “although she likes kuroo?”

“oh! kureno.”

“is he a bad person?” he likes to know what’s he in for at times, so some spoilers are okay.

“he falls in love with a minor.”

“oh.”

“yeah, it’s gross,” you sigh as you feel wonwoo massage your scalp. “oh that’s nice, by the way, did your manager allow you to take the cat apron?”

“i can’t. jihoon sucks.”

“boooo! he sucks.”

“my baby can always embroider me one, right?”

“i crochet, not embroider!”

“same idea!”

“no its not!” you pinch his nose. his nose scrunches up, and he tries to playfully bite your fingers. you pinch him even harder, and you giggle over his over exaggerated expression of pain. “i should really finish making that cat hat for you.”

“take your time, baby,” he kisses the tip of your fingers. “don’t stress on it. oh, speaking of which, jihoon sent me footage of seungkwan and mingyu tripping during close yesterday. i don’t know why you find it amusing to see them struggle.”

“because they’re so funny together,” you laugh, as wonwoo uses a free hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. he opens it and scrolls, looking for the video. you turn your head, listening to his steady heartbeat. the scent of his lavender bodywash is faint. it lingers. “besides, mingyu complains about his antics with seungkwan to me at the clinic sometimes.”

“ah, not surprised.”

wonwoo opens the video, and since it is security footage, it’s muted. the quality is grainy. it’s a bit blurry. as wonwoo lightly taps a tune on the small of your back, you watch with curious eyes. seungkwan is mopping, while mingyu is seen refilling the containers with straws and wooden utensils. it doesn’t look much, but you see seungkwan tell mingyu something, but his footing is awkward, causing him to slip on the wet floor. seungkwan doesn’t fall on the ground, and mingyu is laughing at him, throwing his head back in amusement. mingyu suddenly slips backwards, falling on his side, and a bunch of straws fall on the floor. seungkwan looks like he’s gonna cry so much from laughing too hard. someone else (it looks like vernon) appears from the corner and stares at mingyu, whose still on the floor. he leaves. you and wonwoo snort loudly, you shutting your eyes hard because it’s too funny. he locks his phone and puts it back on the nightstand, stroking your head while you continue to laugh.

“god, they’re so stupid,” you shake your head. “how does jihoon deal with them?”

“he tries not to.” wonwoo halfly jokes, scrunching up his nose. you snicker. “at least they get the job done, and jihoon will be less stressed.”

“hopefully the new hires don’t fuck up.”

“i made sure they won’t.” wonwoo says, looking at you with endearment. you can’t help but move up, and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, even taking a hold of your face as you pepper him with soft kisses. “you’re being more adorable today.”

“well, i feel like i miss you a lot more lately,” you lightly push his glasses up. “even though i see you everyday, i don’t know, it’s different this time.”

“how so?”

you still don’t want to think about the disaster the week has been. but you want your heart to be open. steady.

“sometimes, i forget i’m not alone,” you tell him. his attentive gaze never leaves your face. “and that i don’t have to… i don’t have to burden everything all at once. and i’m sorry if i feel like i’m not relying on you.”

“baby,” wonwoo cups your face and squishes your cheeks. you inadvertently let out a laugh. “don’t be sorry. please don’t ever be.”

“i know, but i…”

“you’re very important to me.” he strokes your cheekbone. “i am always here. i’m sorry if i appeared… distant lately. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s okay, woo. i’m just overthinking.”

“it’s not…” he whispers, face softening. “you had a bad week, and me being busy isn’t an excuse to make sure my baby is okay. like i said, you’re very important to me, and the love you give me makes me so happy. i love you so much.”

“i love you so much too, wonwoo… how did i deserve you?” you feel your heart swell, and the urge to cry comes. “sometimes i wonder about that.”

“you deserve everything. and i’ll make sure i can give everything to you.”

“then…” you trail off, going quiet for a moment. wonwoo watches you, and you raise yourself up, adjusting yourself to almost straddle his lap. “can you…”

“hm?”

“can you take care of me?” you whisper, tugging the hem of his shirt. you swallow the embarrassment down, reminding yourself that it’s okay. “please?”

it seems like a desperation from you, but wonwoo knows you best. you know that he’ll always and will take care of you with utmost tenderness and gentle love. but sometimes, just barely, or just too often, you question yourself how (and why) you deserve him. you already thought the shared kiss under the stars a few years ago was something he’d forget easily. but the nerd he is, he’ll plant constellations upon constellations of kisses across your body, (as if you’re the universe herself), and ask you to guess which constellation it is. on your anniversary, he’ll always kiss the libra constellation on you because that’s the one you both saw under that fated starry night. (although, he loves kissing the pisces constellation on your body. a lot).

wonwoo gazes upon you, eyes brimming with gentleness, and he carefully sits up, motioning you to move closer to him. his hands rest on your hips, his right thumb stroking your hip. your arms reach out to him, as they wrap slowly around his neck.

“how would like me to take care of you?” he whispers so low, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours, his right hand going up to play with your sweatshirt, sending a chill down your spine.

“however you want.”

wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck, while his left hand slips under your shorts, lightly caressing the back of your thigh. his tongue teases the roof of your mouth, causing you to let out a small whine, as his left hand takes a hold of your ass, occasionally squishing it.

“do you want me to continue?” wonwoo breathlessly says in between wet kisses. while he fiddles with the hem of your sweatshirt, you nod in response. “words, baby.”

“yes, please.”

“what do you want?”

you and wonwoo are no stranger to sex, but compared to your friends, you and him are considerably on the more… calmer side of things. and thats okay, it’s normal! everyone is different. tonight, however, feels different. even with his constant reassurance, little kisses of i’m here for you, and delicate whispers, you want wonwoo to…

“if you could help me not overthink, that’ll be great,” you feel yourself flush red, looking down at the end of his shirt, fiddling with it. “if you, uh, know what i mean.”

“oh.” wonwoo sighs when your fingers slip under his shirt and ghost over his chest. he’s figured what you meant. “are you sure?”

“as long as you fuck me, make me feel good,” you mumble, feeling yourself grind against him, kissing him wetly. “i could care less how you do it.”

wonwoo hisses at the pressure, and stares at you, a glint of lust and admiration starting to shine through, all while playing with the band of your shorts. he brings up a hand near your face, and pulls you in for another kiss, tongue toying with yours, and when you whine, he sucks the tip of your tongue.

“remember our safe word, baby?”

“kohyangi,” you breathe out, thinking about the cute cat cafe you both went to last year, while wonwoo kisses red blooms on your neck.

“how far do you want me to…”

“how we usually are, but i wanna see you try,” you stop wonwoo from kissing your neck, and you bring him to your face, letting him kiss you more. “you can be a little rougher tonight.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” he gently flips you over, carefully laying you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours until he briefly parts to remove his glasses. putting them on the nightstand clumsily, he comes back for your lips, and you melt against him. through his relentless teasing and his tender touches against you make your head spin. he kisses a little harder, a little more desperate, hands starting to roam around your frame, arms caging you– an underlying message that he isn’t going anywhere, and that he belongs to you, you are his, and that you are deserving of everything. a curious hand slips under your shirt, feeling your bare chest. his other hand toys with the band of your shorts, mumbling if it’s okay to take them off, and he swiftly removes them when you give him a ‘yes’.

“oh, this is pretty,” wonwoo compliments your underwear. it’s a baby blue thong. he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. “they new?”

“um, uh, yes? they were on sale… good deal, too…” you suddenly feel yourself shrink, turning red. you stare at his toned muscles, and you see a satisfied smirk on wonwoo’s face, eyes turning lustful. he pushes the sweatshirt high enough for your chest to be exposed to the air, never breaking eye contact until he swoops down, and starts planting kisses, tongue teasing your nipple, and occasionally biting at some places. “i bought a bunch since… kinda wanted to try wearing these… for you.”

you see wonwoo’s ears turn pink, and feel yourself crawling into a hole.

“aw, cute, my princess wants to treat me.” your brain screams. wonwoo kisses over the healed ink near your hip.“they look great on you, makes your tattoo here even sexier.”

“are.. are you doing the andromeda constellation?” you breathe out, trying to divert his (horny) attention somewhere else. “or is it something else?”

“mmhmm, correct, that’s my good girl,” wonwoo teases and you feel yourself choke on your own spit. he starts toying with the band of your underwear, and bites a mark on the hip bone. you didn’t even realize he’s already settled in between your legs until you feel him breathe. he tongues over the bite mark, soothing it. damn, ain’t this one nice way to go out. “you’re learning so well.”

“shit,” you shyly say between your teeth.

“keep the sweatshirt on, i wanna fuck you in it.”

“good, that was the intention.” you try to counter wonwoo, and you feel yourself twitch when wonwoo presses his thumb over your clothed clit. “does it make you possessive?”

“baby, you have no idea.” he responds, hooking a finger in the band of your thong.“may i?”

you nod at him, and he slowly peels off your underwear. as you slightly raise your hips so he can easily pull them off, he’s awkward with it, making you remove it instead. wonwoo clicks his tongue in slight annoyance. all you do is just smile at him, slipping them off with ease. you sit up (just a bit) to toss them somewhere on the bed or floor, and you don’t realize wonwoo is incredibly close to your pussy until you adjust your positioning. your breath hitches when he breathes.

“hm?” he starts to tease, kissing around the area and the lower stomach, but doesn’t do anything. “you’re pretty down here.”

“babe, please,” you try to sound exasperated but he plants the softest kiss on your clit and you almost collapse your arms. “just nervous, that’s all, even though we’ve done this a lot…”

“it’s okay, baby, i don’t blame you, i get nervous too,”wonwoo murmurs, and he can’t help it but he finds himself licking his lips. “may i eat you out?”

“yes, please.”

he first lightly swipes his tongue from the entrance to the clit, and he does it again, and again, and again, as you let out a soft noise the more he does it. he kisses your clit, and licks it, tongue flicking it a few times, doing a circular motion, and you sigh out a moan, hand resting on the crown of his head. he briefly pauses to use his thumbs to spread you out a little more, and opens his mouth, letting drool drip down on your pussy, watching it drip down, and he goes back in with his tongue. he increases the pressure, and you whine, almost hitting your head against the headboard. he keeps up the pace, moaning against your folds whenever you do, tongue slipping inside you occasionally. he starts to get even more sloppy, messy– making wet noises the more he eats you out.

“my princess is being so so good, so wet,” he mumbles lowly against your folds, hearing how wet he made you, briefly pulling away to kiss your inner thighs. you whine how his finger is teasing your hole, and his lips come back to suck on your clit again. “so needy, all for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine breathlessly, feeling wonwoo’s hand grip your thigh a little harder. he looks up, eyes never breaking away from yours, while his tongue slowly licks up from the entrance to your clit. he closes his eyes, relishing in the taste of you. you are sure your thigh is going to bruise, but his head is in between your legs, so it’ll be worth the bruising. “wonwoo, fuck, oh my god,”

“mm, fuck, so sweet,” he mumbles against your pussy. a finger slips inside you, slowly moving back and forth. the bed slightly shakes, and you see that he’s lightly grinding against the sheets, in desperation for some relief. you sigh at the sight, trying to stifle a moan as he puts more pressure with his tongue. “baby, go ahead, be louder.”

“its, fuck, embarrassing! holy shit,” you respond back a little louder, body arching when wonwoo adds another finger and grazes that sweet spot inside. you feel wonwoo pin down your hips with his other hand. “so, fuck, so, so good.”

“good,” wonwoo coos. “how bad do you wanna come?”

“so bad, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” your brain feels dizzy. “please wonwoo, please.”

wonwoo hums, continuing to suck your clit with wet noises and fingering you good. you find yourself mumbling incoherent sentences, and you find yourself feeling a wave of relief and pleasure overtake your body, trying to breathe. you clench around his fingers, hearing wonwoo coax you through your orgasm, leaving little kisses on you of you’re doing so well for me, and my baby, baby, all mine.

“can i spit in your mouth?” wonwoo removes his mouth from you, but his fingers have slowed their movement.

“yes.” you whine at the brief loss.

“open up.” he demands softly, a wet thumb pressing against your bottom lip. you oblige, and he leans in, letting drool drip down from his mouth into yours, his fingers busy with your hole, and uses his tongue to push it in your mouth. you shut your eyes, moaning while wonwoo’s tongue meets with yours.“good girl. was that okay?”

“y-yes,” you say in between wet kisses. another finger slips inside you, making it three, while you both make out, tasting yourself against his tongue. “it was good.”

“do you want me to do it again tonight?” wonwoo slightly rolls on his side, all while fingering you and peppering your neck with more kisses.

“it was really hot but,” you moan, trying to reach the band of his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is, and how much relief he desperately needs. “i don’t know if i wanna do it again. not again tonight, if that’s okay.”

“it’s always okay, baby, thank you,” wonwoo smiles against your neck, and you really wonder how you feel horny and soft all at once. he feels your fingers tease the band of his sweatpants, almost tracing the dent against it.“oh, baby, no need to worry about me.”

“but i want to make you feel good, too,” you say softly, breaths staggering while he fingers you long and slow. “don’t want—fuck— to be the only one.”

“well,” wonwoo gazes at you, eyes half-lidded with a slight fucked out look on his face. “does my girl want to make me feel good? words, baby, i need to hear them.”

“i want to make you feel good, please.”

“how badly?”

“s-so bad,” you whine when wonwoo removes his fingers from you. rolling on top of him, you press your body against his, your fingers holding the band of his sweats. “i want to suck you off.”

“wanna show me how with my fingers?” he brings up his fingers covered in your wetness close to your lips. “how will my baby suck me off?”

“only if you let me jerk you off, too.”

“i’d love that, fuuck,” wonwoo groans when you pull down his sweats and your hand wraps over his hard dick. he’s so fucking hard. your thumb teases the tip, playing with the precum and letting your hand coat itself in it. wonwoo’s fingers slowly go in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around them. “baby, fuck, you’re such a slut.”

“y-you’re the bigger slut,” you shyly whisper against his fingers. you help wonwoo get out from his sweatpants, leaving him naked, and you start grinding your cunt against his bare thigh. he hisses, feeling how wet you are down there, and his free hand grabs a hold of your hip. “you made me like this.”

“you’re so wet, baby,” wonwoo sighs, pulling you in for a kiss, sighing when you jerk him off slowly. as you slightly pick up the pace, thumbing the slit, wonwoo’s hand reaches from behind to play with your hole. you quickly pull away to let a trail of spit go down his cock for some lubrication, and wonwoo throws his head back, groaning, when you jerk him off faster. “fuck, that’s my girl, go ahead, suck me off.”

“and you’re calling me the slut,” you mumble. you hear wonwoo laugh against your lips, until you feel his hand lightly slap your ass. you sigh at the pain, wonwoo rubbing the reddenning spot. “wow, kinky, are we?”

“you’re cute.”

“you like it.”

“you’re so– oh, fuck,” wonwoo feels his breathing stagger when you slide down, your tongue teasing the tip. you look up, trying hard to maintain eye contact, all while holding his thick cock with your hand (you forget how thick he is, you can barely wrap your hand around it completely) and giving it kittenish licks, before wrapping your lip around the tip. you make a few wet sucking noises, before spitting down on his cock for more lubrication. “fuck, baby, can you take all of me?”

“i haven’t even done anything yet,” you continue to trail your tongue along the veins and stroke him at the girth, and he moans— you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting to hear more of it. “wanna tell me what should i do?”

“d-do as you please.” he groans out your name, cursing under his breath, and strokes your head as you continue to suck him off. not only does he love it when he ensures you’re vocal about what you want, he loves it when you ask him what he wants. being communicative is something he prioritizes so much (in general, obviously). and during times like these, communication is so so sexy.

you look at him, eyes signaling am i doing good for you?, and wonwoo bites his lip, enthralled by the sight. he really, really, can’t wait to ravish you.

“oh, holy fuck,” his thoughts get slightly interrupted when he feels his cock almost hit the back of your throat. feelings mixed with surprise and arousal that overwhelm him, he bites his lip to avoid a moan slipping out, wrapping his own hand around the base and presses it, edging himself. “oh, fuck, baby, you don’t have to take everything in.”

“b-but,” you remove your mouth from him, a slick pop sound coming out, as a trail of spit and come stick on your mouth. you still use your hands to jerk him off, looking at him with glossed eyes. “i wanna make you feel good.”

“you already are, baby,” wonwoo hitches his breath when you put your mouth back on his cock, a finger trailing your jaw. “but i’m the one who was suppose to fuck you til you can’t think, right? do you still want that, sweetheart?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble. “i-i do.”

“come here, then,” wonwoo encourages you to come up, licking your mouth. he runs a tongue on the roof of your mouth, as you moan while his hand plays with your hole again. “i taste good, don’t i?”

“mmhmm,” you reply against his lips, and wonwoo easily slips two fingers inside you again. he sucks on your bottom lip, fingering you faster, and you find yourself instinctively riding his fingers, moans getting more desperate as his other hand takes a hold of your hip and helps you ride his fingers. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again, oh my god, your fingers are so good, woo.”

“that’s it, baby,” wonwoo says, adding in a third finger. you feel his thumb press again your clit. “come for me again, sweetheart.”

you ride out your second orgasm of the night. although it’s not as intense as the first, it feels more of like a softer wave holding you close. wonwoo kisses your neck and collarbones, whispering you praises and love notes as he helps you finish.

“please fuck me already,” you whine into the kiss, and wonwoo starts playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “wonwoo, please, i want you…”

“patience, baby,” wonwoo whisper in your ear, and you feel his hand go up and down your back. “i’ll take care of you as long as you like me to. can you go on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“can we kiss first?”

“of course, baby.”

you’ll never get sick of kissing wonwoo, ever. you find how you melt into each other’s warmth, comfort, and love— and how he feels like home, the hugs on rainy days, the shared smiles— you adore how his kisses are reminders of i’m always here and love letters, how much he loves you- all of you—

wonwoo shifts when you move onto the position, him moving his hand down your back. he asks if its okay if he can lift up your hips a little higher, and says good girl when you follow his instruction.

“can i…?” wonwoo asks, raising your hips up, so your ass is sticking up in the air. “can i fuck you holding one of your arms behind your back?”

“holy fuck,” you whisper, looking at him, a part of your face squished by the pillow. you and wonwoo aren’t that experimental, but this… is something. “if that will help you fuck me so hard til i can’t think, then okay.”

wonwoo slows his movements, and stares at you.

oh.

oh.

oh, fuck, that’s hot.

“well, if you say so,” he leans over, tilts your head to give you a kiss, before opening the drawer to grab a condom. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“at least fuck me first.” you joke, and wonwoo chuckles at that, pushing up your sweatshirt to expose your back. he kisses down your spine, and you hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. wonwoo adjusts your body, and you almost feel like a cramp coming on, but it’s okay—

“ready, baby?” wonwoo asks lowly. you nod against the pillow. “words, sweetheart. may i have your hand?”

“mm, yeah, i’m ready, are you?” you put your hand around your back, and you feel wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“yeah, i’m putting it in,” wonwoo says, and you feel the tip prod against your entrance, and you bite back a moan before he slowly inserts himself in. you squeeze your eyes shut, gasping against the pillow, remembering to take deep breaths. you need a moment to adjust, but the stretch alone feels wonderful. “you okay?”

“y-yes,” you exhale. “fuck, i feel all of you, so, so much.”

“fuck, you’re so tight.” wonwoo groans, slowly bottoming out. “need a moment?”

“yeah.” you let yourself adjust to his cock, as wonwoo rubs your back (his way of helping you relax). a minute passes, and you start to feel good, inadvertently moving your hips back to his. wonwoo moans, and it encourages you to move faster against him. “f-fuck, oh my god, please fuck me, you’re so big—”

wonwoo finds himself moving his hips fast, a hand gripping your hip, the other pinning your wrist behind your back, as you gasp on how loud, wet, and hard he’s going. as hard and fast-paced his thrusts are, it remains concise and controlled. you hear him groan the more he thrusts into you, and you briefly look back at him, seeing him fling his head back in pleasure. god, it feels so good, the sounds of skin slapping grow louder, breathing out of sync, you feel so full, so fucking full, your head is starting to get dizzy—

your senses come back when wonwoo slows his pace, and you whine, tightening around him as a means to get him to move.

“nuh-uh, don’t come just yet,” wonwoo tuts, shallowly thrusting in you. “i’m not done with you.”

“w-what, fuck! oh my god, please go harder,” you tell him, feeling drool come out from your mouth, and wonwoo lets go of your hand, gently placing it above your head.

“so, so, impatient,” wonwoo slaps your ass, watching you fuck yourself on him. he continues to let you fuck yourself on him, his frame swooping down so he can whisper. “so needy for my cock, hm? didn’t know my baby is such a needy, little slut. look at you fucking yourself on me. i haven’t even fucked you stupid yet, and look at you being so needy for me. my baby is such a cute little whore.”

“wonwoo, please move,” you breathe, looking at him with glossy eyes. wonwoo continues to stare at you with lust and endearment, all while shallowly fucking into you. “i want you so much, ahhhh fuck, please, please.”

“hm? what was that?” wonwoo coos, and you whine even more. you feel like crying. wonwoo rubs his hands down your side. “oh, baby, it’s okay, i’ll give you want you want. wanna tell me what you want?”

“y-you, please.”

“just me?”

“want you to fuck me til i can’t think.”

“that’s it?”

“wanna be y-your cute little whore for you.”

and that’s all it takes for wonwoo to remove himself out from you. you wince at the loss of him, as you feel tears in your eyes, but he steadily grabs you, flipping you on your back. he pumps himself, spitting on his fingers and they go down to your pussy, playing with your clit with his thumb and wraps your legs around his waist.

“keep your legs wrapped for me, okay?” he says, using his long fingers to play with you. “can you do that for me?”

“yes,” you nod, and wonwoo peppers soft kisses around your neck and face. “wonwoo?”

“mm, baby?”

“can you spit in my mouth again?”

“oh, fuck, yes,” it catches wonwoo off guard and you find it cute how flustered he got. “i can, yeah.”

“good,” you nudge his back with your leg, telling him to start moving.

“ready?”

“mmhm- ah, fuck!” you nod, but wonwoo slips inside easily, holding onto your hips hard, fucking you at a hard, controlled pace. “oh my god, fuuuck, fuck!”

wonwoo smiles, watching your expressions change accordingly. he takes in all of your noises, expressions, all of you, how you ask to go faster, how you’re trying to fuck back too, how you’re willing to make it good for both of you. wonwoo takes a hold of your hand, putting it above your head. he gets caught off guard when you put your other hand up, and wraps his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

“fuck, baby, you’re so tight, your pretty pussy loves taking me in, hm?” wonwoo whispers, and his free hand creeps up on your neck, but doesn’t add pressure on it. “open up.”

you oblige, and you feel him twitch. you tighten in instinct, as he lets spit drip down from his mouth to yours, and sticks his tongue in your mouth to push it in again. you moan at that, eyes going shut, all while wonwoo fucks harder and harder and harder. you feel nothing running in your brain, it feels numbing, feels exhilarating, you just feel yourself get lost into the pleasure and the praise wonwoo kisses on your skin. you numbingly hear him say words and words of i love you, can’t believe you are all mine, fuck you’re too good for me, come for me, your senses get blurred out, like your feeling everything all at once, and you don’t know when but you feel yourself unravel, coming undone as wonwoo finishes too, hips stuttering.

“baby…” wonwoo sighs against your lips, hands cautiously rubbing your sides, while putting his body weight against yours. “come back to me.”

“mmrgh?” you make a weird noise, feeling warm and a little light-headed. you hear wonwoo telling you to take deep breaths, and you use your hands to hold onto his shoulders. kisses and kisses and kisses of you did so well scatter across your skin like a cluster of stars, as wonwoo strokes your head with a comforting touch. “wonwoo?”

“m’ here baby, i’m right here,” he says, carefully slipping out from inside you after he softens. “i’m here, are you here?”

“yeah, sorry,” you finally collect yourself together, staring at the ceiling. wonwoo shifts on the bed, rolling over next to you to discard the condom, and plops next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist. you look over at him, lost in his bright eyes, and fucked out glow. “you did it.”

“wha?”

“you fucked me stupid, i don’t remember thinking at all.” you laugh. wonwoo’s face turns more pink, and he grumbles into your neck, kissing a spot or two.

“was that all okay?” he asks, stroking your head with one hand, playing with your hands with the other. “we did a little experimenting tonight.”

“it was good, yes, thank you,” you tell him, stroking his cheek fondly. “kinda wanna do more of it, you know.”

“oh.”

“oh my god, don’t act like a shy boy when you fucked me with your big dick.”

“i’m…” wonwoo get even more shy, and you laugh, kissing his nose and his cheeks. “just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.”

“is it a lot for you?”

“no, i’m glad you trust me, and that i’m able to trust you.” wonwoo says, rubbing your stomach. “we should clean up.”

“eh, i kinda wanna lay here.” you say, sort of sprawling out on the bed. you stretch your arm a little weird so it ends up across wonwoo’s body. “too tired.”

“baby, you work in healthcare. didn’t they teach you to pee after sex?”

“i work in an eye clinic!”

“well yeah! same idea! it’s still healthcare! i’m getting you to clean up.” wonwoo says, slipping out of bed and grab his sweatpants. he slips it on, and goes over to your side, but you start rolling away, not wanting to get out of bed. “baby, don’t do that.”

“i want to cuddle first,” you say, not bothering to fight back when wonwoo grabs your body to carry you to the bathroom. “i feel like jelly.”

“good, that’s what i intended,” wonwoo kisses your face when you wrap your arms around his neck. “we can cuddle after. what do you want for breakfast?”

“eggs. toast, if we have bread. do we have bread?” wonwoo shrugs . “uh, coffee? oh! and maybe fried rice.”

“you work tomorrow?” he asks. you shake your head. “good, we’ll sleep in, eat breakfast, you wanna go play stardew valley together?”

you grin, giving him a kiss.

god, you love him so fucking much.

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: WHOOPS, I disappeared for two years. (Legit the last chapter was posted in May 2022!). But I’m back and have written… a lot of the rest of this fic, so we’re just going to post weekly (or even twice weekly!) until we’re finished. And I hope you’re still out there, anyone, to enjoy it. Quick recap for a previously on IDWTW. Aelin and Rowan had sex! It was great. Then they walked in on Rhoe and her dance teacher Petrah having sex, which was NOT great. Aelin never wants to go back to dance again. We returned to school. Senior second semester is going great. Busy for Aelin, who is still trying to work her butt off re: APs and grades. Less busy for Rowan, who is already recruited to college for lacrosse. Aelin and Lys had a huge falling out, but have slowly rekindled their friendship now that Lys is sober and working on her shit. Elide and Manon came out! They’re running as homecoming queens! Dorian and Chaol haven’t DTRed and are taking a break. Last we left off, Aelin texted someone to help retrieve her lacrosse hoodie from the dance studio after hours. But who? Keep reading to find out. Also, I have been gone for so long that I have NO idea who is still in the fandom or reading Rowaelin fic. Please reblog to spread the word! Taglist doesn't seem to possible anymore, so please share! Love you all and missed you all. Comment, message, meme, gif, whatever. Let’s go, team.

Aelin watched with wide eyes as Lys lowered into a crouch and removed a bobby pin from her hair. When she’d texted her friend to help with her mission, she hadn’t realized that Lysandra was a bona-fide expert at breaking and entering. 

“It got boring in rehab,” Lys said with a small shrug, as if that explained her masterful lock-picking.

“Good to know,” Aelin said, chewing her thumb nervous and glancing over her shoulder at Rowan, who waited patiently in the jeep — aka, their getaway car. She didn’t think they’d actually need one, but this whole thing was such a thing, she figured it was probably safest to have a getaway car. What if the cops were called about the break-in, and they had to run? 

Aelin almost chuckled at the thought of Orynth’s elderly Police Chief trying to run after them, but it hadn’t stopped her from telling Lys to dress all in black and meet them at the dance studio at eight. Luckily, Rhoe was at the station overnight, so he couldn’t see their ridiculous antics. But, after all, this mission was serious. She tried to refocus on Lys, who was finagling with a pin in the lock, taking her sweet time. A rush of panic ran through Aelin. What if they got caught? What if this got put on her permanent record? What if they got arrested?

BZZZZ. Aelin’s phone vibrated in her hand, making her jump with surprise. 

“Gods,” she muttered under her breath, causing Lys to chuckle under her breath.

“Tell your buzzard not to worry, we’re almost there,” she said, twisting the pin again in a different direction. Aelin sighed at the reassurance. She knew that Rowan had to be feeling her nerves as well. Although maybe not quite as much. She wasn’t usually concerned about being a rule follower, but every step of the way had made her feel more and more stressed out. Which might have to do more with her overbearing boyfriend watching their every move than anything else. Couldn’t he just sit there and look cute and not worry? She looked at his text and shook her head. She should have known it’d be impossible. He was the biggest worry wart of them all.

Are you sure no one’s in the studio? It looks like the lights are on upstairs. Rowan texted from the front seat, his view of the studio probably better than theirs. But Aelin had spent too many years of her life at this studio. Despite her churning stomach, she knew they were fine.

Last class ended an hour ago. They always leave the lights on for the cleaning staff, but they get Fridays off, so they’re on until Saturday morning. It was part of my class schedule to turn the lights off. We’re good.

She looked over her shoulder after sending the text, and watched as Rowan threw a thumbs up in her direction. She couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked in his oversized black hoodie with the hood up. Despite completely disapproving of her decision, he showed up ready for the assignment at hand. 

“Tadaaa,” Lys sang out quietly as the lock clicked open, the door popping ajar. 

“Honestly, when I asked you to help me break into the dance studio, I figured we’d be throwing a rock into a window or something,” Aelin whispered, even though there was absolutely no reason to whisper at all. Aelin had timed it purposefully, so she wouldn’t have to run into … anyone. Okay, she really didn’t want to have to talk to Petrah. She’d avoided the studio (and Petrah) for so many weeks following the revelation that she’d been involved with her dad, and she had no intention of breaking that now. So, they’d had no choice but to break into the studio under the cover of darkness.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lys said. “The door upstairs has a lock, too, right?” 

Aelin nodded. Annoyingly, there were three doors they had to break open — the building door, the door to the second floor, and then the dance studio entrance. Thank god Aelin had her locker key, so that wasn’t a worry.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Lys asked as they trudged up the long stairwell to the second floor. She tried not to flinch as the rubber-covered stairs squeaked beneath her shoes. “Not that I’m not happy to help,” she continued. “I just thought that you started dancing again and loved it?”

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned. “I did.” Aelin paused for a beat too long, causing Lys to flip her dark curls over her shoulder to get a better look at Aelin. 

“But?”

“It’s…complicated,” Aelin sighed as Lys crouched down in front of the second floor door.

“Well, this is going to take a minute,” Lys laughed. “Tell me.” Aelin was going to refute again when Lys’s voice changed, softer. “Unless you don’t want to…”

Aelin nearly smacked herself. She’d thought this would be a ridiculous, fun (and pretty low-stakes) way to hang out with Lys again, and here she was totally ruining it by keeping things to herself again.

“No, it’s not like that,” Aelin reassured her as she continued to work on the lock. “It’s just… horrifying.”

“Well now you can’t not tell me,” Lys snickered, but Aelin recognized the slight trepidation in her friend’s green eyes. Still nervous to push things. Aelin bit the bullet and let it out in a whoosh.

“Oh my GOD.” Lys’s nose crinkled, and she fell to her knees completely as her shoulders shook with laughter as Aelin told her story. “I mean, we all knew Rhoe fucked,” Lys cackled, causing Aelin to smack her friend’s knee. 

“EW! That is my dad,” she said, fake heaving.

“He’s a hot, hot firefighter daddy, though,” Lys said, her eyebrows wiggling.

“I swear to god I will vomit straight on you.”

Aelin tried to be serious, but Lysandra’s smile pushed them both over the edge into a fit of giggles. They laughed and laughed, releasing the tension that had been hovering around them like a thick blanket all night, officially removing all traces of formality. Unable to help herself, Aelin reached out for her friend’s hand, squeezing her fingers gently and was relieved as Lys squeezed back. They weren’t healed, per se, but they were healing, and that was the most that Aelin could really ask for right now.

Taking a breath and wiping the remnant tracks of tears from her cheeks, Lys pushed herself back up to her knees. “Second lock?”

“Speaking of my family…” Aelin started nervously, but forged on, curious. “How’s Aedion doing?” 

To her credit, Lys didn’t even lose pace as she unlocked the next door with ease.

“I know you want me to reply with something equally scandalous, but there’s nothing going on between me and Aedion,” Lys replied succinctly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay,” Aelin said, not completely convinced, but chose to respect her boundaries and believe her words. 

The pair fell into an awkward silence as they headed down the hall toward the studio door. Just one last lock to get through — and then she’d never have to return to this place. A part of her heart panged at that thought, that she’d be leaving Orynth and this studio behind and not really getting to say goodbye to it. But running into Petrah was NOT an option.

“Hey, isn’t this the studio?” Lys asked of a propped open door, a gentle music wafting from inside. Aelin’s stomach sank. Had someone stayed late tonight practicing? It was a plus that they wouldn’t have to break into yet another door, but she really didn’t want to risk running into anyone. “I thought you said it was closed.”

At the same time, the pair noticed the schedule on the door, showing the company’s new rehearsal schedule. Their rehearsals now went until nine on Friday night, meaning that Aelin had shown up in the middle of a packed studio, instead of an empty one. And one where Petrah would surely be. She contemplated turning right around, but Lys had already opened the door too far, leading them into the studio lobby where the company was on break, milling around and refilling their water bottles.

And at the front desk, Petrah’s eyes widened with surprise upon seeing her. “Aelin!”

She should have guessed breaking in had been too easy. Had the doors even been locked? She knew Lysandra had gotten through them too quickly! Grumbling, she stepped out of the shadow and into the lobby toward Petrah. She couldn’t run away anymore, so she had no choice but to say hello to the woman who she’d been studiously avoiding for weeks. And by the look on Petrah’s face, she knew it, too.

“I’ll go grab your jersey,” Lys whispered, leaving her to fend for herself. “See you downstairs!”

“Traitor,” Aelin mumbled under her breath as Lysandra all but ran into the locker room, excusing herself from the awkward conversation that surely lay ahead. She wanted to run, but her feet were stuck, watching Petrah approach nervously.

“Aelin,” she said again, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you….” But Aelin cut her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” she said, ready to slap her hands over her ears, lest Petrah talk about her dad in any less than completely formal way.

Petrah’s deep pink lips curled up on one side in amusement, but Aelin watched as she took another deep breath and shook off whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she watched as her smile fell into a wistful expression. “We’ve missed seeing you around here,” Petrah said.

Aelin’s eyes shot to the open doorway of the studio where the company practiced, all jetes and pirouettes and well-supported port de bras. She had missed dancing. She really had just gotten back into it when she let it fall away. Petrah must have seen her expression because she smiled faintly and let her delicate hand fall to Aelin’s shoulder.

“You could join the class. Dance it out,” Petrah suggested.

Aelin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancers. She watched the emotion pour from them. That is what she needed. But as Lysandra held up her jersey and trailed down the stairs in the periphery of her vision, Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t tonight.”

“I understand that it might be strange to spend time with me after what you overheard…” Petrah trailed off as blood pooled in her cheeks, filling her usual pale complexion with a deep blush. “It was completely casual. It’s only happened a handful of times, and we both know it’s not serious. I’m not trying to replace your mother, or anything like that, it’s just… an occasional stress release, and oh my god, I am sorry I didn’t mean to say any of that.” Aelin cringed at the words. She wanted to stop Petrah, but the woman couldn’t be stopped even if she wanted to. “Please don’t give up dance because of this,” Petrah pleaded. “You have such a gift, Aelin, and I would be filled with regret for the rest of my life if I knew I was the cause of you walking away from it.”

Aelin took a breath, the comforting scent of chalk and worn leather infiltrating her senses and calming her down as she figured out what to reply to Petrah. Of course she wanted to dance still. It was undeniable, the way her body pulled her toward the studio, the way a sense of calm settled through her despite her initial discomfort upon seeing Petrah. She thought about her lack of free time and her constantly building stress as the semester went on and how badly she wished she could just dance it out. That release of emotion centered her, and she knew that she was feeling off kilter without it. Making time for dance had improved her life drastically — it'd kept her sane as the rest of her semester spiraled out of control — and she wanted it back. So, so badly.

She was on the verge of agreeing to join the practice when there was a crash and loud shriek from the studio. When the shriek morphed into a choked sob, a churning nausea overwhelmed Aelin. She watched as Petrah’s face morphed into one of horror as she sprinted into the studio. Sure enough, one of the dancers was on the floor, cradling her ankle, cheeks red and involuntary tears dripping down her skin, while another dancer attempted to help her stand. The girl hissed, crying out in pain and sat down again.

“Call an ambulance,” someone ordered, and suddenly there was a frenzy, a rush of dancers looking on in terror at the injury in front of them. Aelin stood with her back against the wall, not wanting to be in the way, slinking out of sight while so much was going on. It felt like a sign from the universe that Aelin shouldn’t even think about wasting her time with dancing. Like the gods warned her that she had way too much going on to even consider it.

With Petrah distracted, Aelin slipped out, trying to gain control of her waging feelings. She slid into the backseat next to Lys, her mind reeling and unable to get the image of the crying dancer out of her head. So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear Rowan call out to her, until red and blue flashed behind them. He swung his head over her shoulder, his mouth agape in horror as he stared at his unusually quiet girlfriend.

“Ace, what did you do? Are those the cops?!”

Aelin shook her head, the horrible feeling of nausea persisting in her gut as Rowan drove away from the studio.

. . .

It had been days since Aelin had received a text from an unknown number, and she still hadn’t decided what she was going to do.

I thought you should know we’re holding an emergency dance company audition this Tuesday at 5pm. Please come, Aelin.

Aelin chewed her sandwich thoughtfully as she pulled up the text again. The audition was merely hours away, but she was still on the fence.

“You still haven’t made up your mind?” Lysandra asked, glancing at Aelin’s phone screen. Her former — maybe current — friend had started joining them at the lunch table in the last few days since their late night break in, continuing to heal and thaw what had broken between them.

“I keep telling her to pro con list,” Rowan said, letting his fingers trail across the back of her neck and kneading the tight muscles there with his strong grasp.

“Mmmm,” Aelin mumbled, leaning further into his touch. “Con. Time spent without you.”

“Pro, something to do while I’m at lacrosse practice,” he countered as his fingers massaged a particularly tender part of her neck. She angled her head so he could have better access, but he took it as an invitation to let his head drop to her bare skin and press his lips against it, causing her body to light up. As she leaned toward him with another light moan, Dorian slammed his tray down on the table with a loud thwack.

“Get a room or get outta here,” he complained, tossing a fry at the still-intertwined pair.

“Someone’s got their panties in a bunch,” Aelin laughed as she tossed the fry back at the offender.

“My panties are perfectly smooth, thank you very much,” Dorian quipped. “Some of us would just prefer not to bear witness to your foreplay.”

“Pro,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear, his lips ghosting against the tickling skin there. “I really love watching you dance.”

“Pro,” Aelin whispered back. “Increased stamina, muscle strength, and flexibility.”

Aelin glanced up at Rowan, who was already staring back at her with a fiery intensity. Her eyes glanced down at his mouth, which was curled into a satisfied smirk. His throat bobbed with a slow swallow, surely thinking of all the way those fitness benefits could be put to good use. She leaned in slightly, her lips a hairs breadth away from his when another fry hit her cheek. Aelin whipped her head around, rubbing at the salty spot where the food had made contact with her face.

Dorian was the picture of innocence, eyes wide as he chewed his own fry.

“Con,” Lys interjected. “Increased horniness.”

“Literally didn’t think that was possible,” Dorian said with a snort. “So, what are we pro-conning?” he asked, popping another fry into his mouth.

“Orynth Dance Company is having an emergency audition after an injury, and Aelin was personally invited to try out,” Lysandra explained.

“But I don’t really have the time,” Aelin started. “It would require actual rehearsal time. Like, a lot of nights. Not just an hour long class. Plus, I’d have to see Petrah every day. And I have to knock this last semester’s grades out of the park if I want to even think about getting a scholarship anywhere, plus I have a million AP exams to study for coming up, and that’s not even considering keeping up with hospital volunteering and going to your games and having any kind of semblance of a social life and…” she trailed off, her stomach finally settling as she came to the conclusion she knew she was going to come to all along. “I can’t join the dance company.”

Rowan frowned and reached for her hand. “Are you sure, Ace?” His hand wrapped around hers in a comforting squeeze, and she knew he was asking seriously. “We could make it work. I could help you study, we could bring out your color-coded schedule again to make sure we could fit everything in.”

“I know,” Aelin sighed, squeezing back. “But, I’m sure.”

But as the afternoon ticked by, Aelin couldn’t ignore the swirling feeling of guilt trying to pull her under. She was so distracted by the approaching time that she completely zoned out through all of AP Lit, startling when the period ended and Dorian poked her side.

And as five PM approached closer and closer, she found herself growing more agitated and even snapping at Rowan at one point. It wasn’t his fault; he had to head off to lacrosse practice, but Aelin had found herself so worked up that she had thought maybe he’d want to help release some tension.

“I’ll come right over after practice,” Rowan promised as he twined his hands around her waist.

“But you’ll be all sweaty and gross,” Aelin replied with a frown.

“I thought you liked when I get sweaty,” he laughed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Aelin sighed, knowing she was being petulant, but she couldn’t get out of her own head.

“Only when I’m the one doing it!”

She tried to push him away, but Rowan’s grasp on her was iron-clad, too tight for her to even think about prying him off her. “Ace,” he lowered his voice. “I would love nothing more than to skip practice and be with you, but you know this is the only thing I need to do this semester to keep my place at Wendlyn.”

“Because Wendlyn’s more important than me?”

“I think you need a snack,” Rowan laughed, but Aelin didn’t find that funny at all.

“Sorry my blood sugar problems are amusing to you,” she said, stiffening within his grasp. She felt Rowan sigh deeply and watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his brows up the way she loved so much.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You know that’s not—”

“I know,” Aelin replied quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Rowan raised a single brow as if to tell her he knew exactly what had gotten into her, and so did she.

“It’s not even four yet,” Rowan said. “You could still go.”

But Aelin was nothing if not resolute. She’d made up her mind, and it was completely logical. And she was sticking to it. No, she’d head home and, yes, get a snack, and dig into her lit homework. Maybe Dorian would be willing to give her his notes from the class, seeing as she couldn’t remember a single thing that was discussed earlier.

She forced a smile and shrugged her shoulders back. “Nope, you were right. I need a snack. I’ll head to Maeve’s and see what she’s got for me.”

Rowan grimaced. “She closed for the afternoon, actually, while they put in a new stove, but she should be reopened by the time I’m out of practice.” Aelin shivered as Rowan let his fingers trail in small circles up and down her back. “Why don’t I stop there on my way to your place after practice? Cheeseburger and brownies?”

“And then orgasms?” Aelin asked, causing a loud snort to erupt from Rowan.

“You want to have sex after cheeseburger and brownies? That feels dangerous.”

“Well, we could have sex first, but reheated cheeseburgers are pretty garbage,” Aelin replied, loving the soft smile that appeared on Rowan’s face. It was the one solely reserved for her. When she was being particularly ridiculous or annoying, it was like he couldn’t help but love her more, and the small curve of his lips let her know that.

“You’re right. Cheeseburgers first,” he paused. “Then sex, then brownies?”

“Deal,” Aelin said as she reached her hand out to shake his. But he instead grasped it in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles lightly.

“I love you,” he said.

And though Aelin wanted to roll her eyes, she took a moment to relish the fact that her best friend in the whole world loved her. And would do anything to make her smile. In fact, he’d succeeded in getting her too distracted to think about the auditions and…

As soon as she thought about them, her smile faded again.

“Just go,” he whispered, but Aelin shook her head.

“Have a good practice. See you in a few hours.”

She kissed him and sent him off, hoping to pour herself into her studies. But even with her book open, Aelin digested none of what she was reading. She kept looking at the clock, distracted. Even as it passed five pm, knowing that she was missing the auditions, she still couldn’t focus. And her mood started to plummet.

It plummeted even further as she received a text from Rowan saying that their coach needed him to stay behind for a bit after practice and that he’d be later than anticipated.

She tried to read more, and when that didn’t work, she attempted to do some math equations, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. She knew what she needed. And it was to dance it out. Despite everything, that was still her best coping mechanism. When a second text from Rowan came in, apologizing for being even later, Aelin had had enough. She couldn’t just sit here and wallow. Instead, she wrote a note for whoever would get home first – her dad, Lorcan, or Rowan — and began walking.

She didn’t even know where she was walking until she ended up at the dance studio. It was unlocked, but empty. She couldn’t remember if there had been an end time to the auditions, but it seemed completely deserted. No one was sitting at the front desk, and the lights were eerily dim. This is what she’d expected to walk into last week when she’d stolen back her lacrosse hoodie, and she was even more annoyed about it somehow.

Instead of focusing on that, though, she went straight for the first open studio and turned the lights on. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered on, illuminating the wooden floors beneath with a warm yellow glow. She toed her sneakers off and padded barefoot to the corner of the studio where the massive (and ancient) stereo system was stored. She pulled her phone out and connected it, pulling up one of the old playlists Rowan had made for her and closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Her feet took off, working in sync with the rhythm reverberating through the bare floor. Next, her arms spread, stretching out and shaking off the stress of the last few weeks.

For the first time, she really let herself feel it. The worrying and wondering what the future would hold. She knew Rowan was destined for Wendlyn, but she had no idea what she would do if she didn’t get in, too. He’d assured her that they’d stay together and figure it out, but who really stays with their high school boyfriend? She knew they weren’t like everyone else – they were special – but it didn’t stop her from thinking about it and wondering. When it came down to it, that’s why she really couldn’t bring herself to audition today. She couldn’t risk spending less time with Rowan, not if this was the last few weeks of their relationship.

Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

She ignored the small tear that pooled in the corner of her eye, letting it drip down her cheek as she spun in time with the music. How could she doubt her and Rowan’s relationship after all this time? She knew in her soul that they were destined to be together. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t wake up and see him every day. But there had been a small slice of fear since they first kissed, and it had ebbed and flowed with each passing day until it was now a gaping chasm in the pit of her stomach. The idea that she could end up elsewhere without Rowan was a real, actual problem. And the timeframe was closing in on them. What if this was the end of them? How would she ever recover?

Her hands reached overhead and then she let her body collapse to the floor in a graceful fall, letting go over the overwhelming sensations of fear that had been swirling and threatening to paralyze her. She arched her back and her neck released, the tension that Rowan had tried to knead attempting to relax and letting gravity pull her down, down, down.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rowan. She did. More than anything. She just didn’t trust this world. She didn’t trust that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. I mean, just look at her dad. He’d thought he’d found the love of his life, and she walked away like it was nothing. Walked away from Aelin.

She didn’t want to cling to Rowan, to be the girl who changed her whole life just to be with a guy. She wasn’t that person. No. She was Aelin fucking Galathynius, and she could live life fully on her own. But she wanted to be with Rowan. Wanted the whole package. Saw their life together. And wanted more than anything for it to become a reality. But what if that future disappeared? What if it was cut short? What if they drifted apart. What if they tried to do long distance? Last summer while he was at camp was only two months and it was pure torture. It caused a rift so big between them that she wasn’t sure they’d overcome it. And yes, of course they did. But… to do it again? And for four years?

Her emotions threatened to choke her as she continued to dance out her frustrations, stomping and spinning and leaping, hoping against all hopes that the answers to her anxieties would appear if she could only dance long enough. She left every feeling, every worry, every gnawing anxiety on the dance floor, letting it tumble out through her moving limbs.

She didn’t know how long she’d been dancing when she opened her eyes again and refocused at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the girl she saw there. She may not have come up with any answers, but she felt better. Raw, red eyed, red cheeked, and breathing hard, Aelin felt totally exposed. Which is why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice cut through the silence, over her harsh exhale.

“Practice starts next week.”

The director of the company stood in the darkened doorway of the studio, arms crossed and lips pursed in thoughtful approval.

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“I know you weren’t,” she said with a formal smile. “But we’d still love to have you. If you want.”

It wasn’t necessarily the answer she had hoped to reach, but something about this moment felt like the universe trying to reassure her. That things do work out the way they’re supposed to.

“Yeah?” she asked, feeling somewhat hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said.

A wide smile crossed the director’s face. “Welcome to the Orynth Dance Company,” she congratulated her.

Aelin didn’t know what had overcome her, but she couldn’t help but run over to her and throw her sweaty arms around her neck in a giant hug.

“Thank you.”

Right on cue, Aelin’s phone buzzed with another incoming text.

Cheeseburgers en route. See you soon. Xx

. . .

As anticipated, the cheeseburgers were exactly what Aelin needed to rejuvenate herself, but Rowan was totally right that there was no way to be sexy after housing a half pound of meat and cheese.

“I’m so stuffed,” she said, patting her extremely full stomach.

Rowan snorted. “Why don’t we take a post-dinner break and watch something?”

“Only if it’s Housewives!” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner for him and Rhoe, who were properly affronted that Rowan hadn’t brought them cheeseburgers, as well.

Aelin sighed and chuckled softly as she let herself slump over onto Rowan, who was already pulling up Housewives onto the television.

“You are such an enabler,” Aelin laughed.

“It’s easier than dealing with him being pouty,” Rowan smartly replied.

Aelin was about to agree when they were interrupted by an unusual ring tone.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, sitting up suddenly. “Is that your… home phone?”

Aelin genuinely couldn’t remember the last time that had rung. Usually she and her dad were both contacted on their cells. They really just had a home line because it was part of their internet package. She couldn’t even remember who had that number.

“Uh, phone’s for you Aelin?” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen.

Even weirder?

“Who the hell would be calling this late on a Tuesday?” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s brow lifted.

“Why don’t you go see?”

Curious, Aelin pried herself off the couch and headed to the kitchen where Lorcan was standing with a spatula in one hand and the phone in the other.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

Lorcan shrugged, simply shoving the phone forward. Helpful.

Aelin cradled the phone against her ear and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Hello!” A deep voice rang out over the phone. “Is this Miss Aelin Galathynius?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Excellent!” the voice boomed, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear slightly. “My name is Xavier Forul, and I’m a local alum of Wendlyn University. I’d love to have you in for an interview some time in the near future. Whenever you’re available! I know you’re a busy senior with a lot on her plate.”

Aelin’s heart took off, beating faster as his words unfolded.

“Interview?”

“Yes,” he continued. “It’s my favorite part of the process. As a former Wendlyn man myself, I get to sit down and speak with young promising applicants to see what their goals and ambitions might be and how they might become part of the Wendlyn world.”

Aelin glanced at the silver-headed mop peeking out above the couch and exhaled slowly. This was it. The universe reassuring her. She felt it with every fiber of her being. She could dance, she could nail her classes this semester, and she’d get into Wendlyn and be with Rowan.

“Wow, thank you so much for reaching out,” Aelin began, her autopilot pilot voice taking over. “I’d love to meet with you.”

As Xavier explained the details of the interview, Aelin’s hope buoyed. She’d been waiting for a sign from the universe, something to tell her that she and Rowan were going to work out and be fine. If a personalized phone call on a landline that hadn’t rung in more months than she could count, inviting her into the home of a University alum wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. And Aelin began to hope for the first time that everything was going to actually work out.

~*~

[141goblin]

Soft: Chapter Four.

—> Chapter three

CW: Slightly suggestive. Hangover.

A/N: I posted the wrong chapter by accident🤦🏼‍♀️my bad. This chapter is a little short but I promise, it’ll get juicy soon :3

I wake up the next morning to find Amelia already gone and a little note laying on my bedside table, scrawled in her writing.

“Early shift at work, gotta go. Love you x”

The second I make any attempt to sit up out of bed, my head begins pounding, a cruel reminder of the sheer amount of alcohol I consumed last night. Yet another stupid decision that’ll make me waste another day lazing around and not doing anything productive. I somehow manage to stumble out of bed and into my bathroom. Because i’m an idiot, I slept in my makeup, breaking one of the most important rules I ever set for myself; never ever sleep in makeup. Crumbs of mascara descend down my dehydrated cheeks, lipstick clinging to the dry parts of my lips.

I wash away the remnants, praying that a bit of cold water and soap will help me to feel a bit more like a human being, rather than a zombie. It does, but not by much. The next thing on my list is to eat something, a proper meal, rather than just bits and pieces of random things laying around my cupboards. I usually opt for what known as ‘girl dinner’, a random assortment of little snacks. My go-to has been pickles with some tortilla chips, and apple slices with peanut butter. Instead of my usual ‘girl dinner’, I make myself a small bowl of pasta with some leftover sauce I have. Carbs will soak up the alcohol, I think.

Once I have something substantial in my stomach, the hangover is slowly starting to fade. It’s still there, but it’s gone from unbearable to just unpleasant. My head still hurts, but the spinning has subsided, luckily. I open my curtains and the windows, letting in some air to rid the smell of wine and takeaway food from my flat. It doesn’t take me long to clear up, putting the empty bottles and packages into the bin and the dirty clothes into the laundry. Now, my flat actually looks somewhat homely, rather than a biohazard. Look at me go, I think.

It’s well into the day, almost 3pm when I decide to reward myself with some well-earned phone time of scrolling on the same three apps for longer than i’d like to. I get into position on the couch, legs sprawled out and open tik-tok, scrolling endlessly on silly videos of cats that warm my heart and stupid memes. I make a mental note to look into getting a cat after I’ve learned to take care of myself. Id love a cat right now, but the poor thing wouldn’t last long. I can’t even look after myself most of the time, let alone another living thing.

The ‘ding’ of the washing machine interrupts my phone time and forces me to get my arse up and finish my chores. I drag the wet clothes out and carry them over to the dryer, turning it on and letting it run. After that, I scoop up the warm, dry clothes off the floor and carry them into my bedroom to fold and put away, like the responsible, functioning adult i’m pretending to be. I’m stopped in my tracks when I plop down on my bed and see a suit jacket hanging up on the drawer of my dresser.

Price’s jacket. Shit, his text.

The laundry gets completely forgotten and I pull up his message from last night.

Unknown: Lovely seeing you tonight, dove. Think you still have my jacket. -JP

My brain begins spinning again as I try to formulate some sort of answer that will make me seem like a normal human being. It takes me a good few minutes of typing and then deleting, but I get there in the end.

Me: I apologise for my rant, I was a bit of a mess. Let me know when you’re free and we can arrange getting your jacket back to you. P.s. the party wasn’t that bad.

I hit send on the message and eagerly await his response, like a teenager with a crush. Fucking stupid, I think. The first time a man has shown me attention in a few weeks and here I am, waiting with baited breath for him to-

Unknown: I told you, dove, no apologies. There’s fire in you, I like that. And as for the jacket, there’s no rush. Hope your head isn’t too sore today. -JP

I giggle like a schoolgirl as soon as I read his text. My brain is screaming because the handsome man with the broad shoulders is texting me, but I take a deep breath to calm the giddiness. He hasn’t exactly left it open-ended so I decide not to reply and wait for him to text next, not wanting to get too ahead of myself, only to be let down because I jumped to conclusions.

I finish the rest of my chores, his texts pinging in my brain. I start to imagine what it’d sound like in his voice as i’m doing the dishes from tonight’s dinner. I imagine his deep, rumbly voice, the voice that makes my fucking bones tingle and brain shake in my skull. I imagine pressing my face against his neck as he talks, feeling the vibrations against my lips. I imagine his voice calling me that stupid nickname, ‘Dove’. I’ve never been called that before, by anyone else, but it’s fast becoming my favourite nickname. It’s better than ‘hot tits’, anyway, the name my ex-boyfriend used to call me when he’d try to be smooth. When I think about it, my ex is nothing compared to Price. Sure, he’s tall and conventionally attractive, but he doesn’t have the same attitude he does. He doesn’t exude masculinity and confidence the way he does.

For fuck sake, I’ve only met the man once and here I am fantasising about him while I pretend to watch yet another rerun of gilmore girls, my attention on him rather than the screen.

I know i’m getting ahead of myself, getting too excited, but I can’t bring myself to care. For the first time in a long time, I let myself indulge in the thoughts and fantasies about the handsome man i’ve only met once. The thoughts continue well into the night, from when I curl up on the couch, to when I settle into bed, hand between my thighs and mind full of his voice. My sticky skin shines with sweat and my moans echo off the walls of my bedroom. I’d normally worry about being heard by the neighbours, but my mind is too full of Price to give a shit.

tags: @izziyuwh @a66-1 @jenniferpendragon @girl-of-multi-fandoms

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, April 14, 2024

My posts

Honestly, I spent much of the week coping with storm migraines. You can tell, because I was reblogging a lot from under a cold compress rather than doing anything useful with life. 

Reblogs of interest

The Hot Vintage Lady Polls are rough out there, y’all. Round three started closing yesterday (see what’s still open here), and as of this writing, we have lost Bette Davis, Alla Nazimova, Theda Bara, Myrna Loy, Barbra Streisand, Fay Wray, Lucille Ball, Ginger Rogers, and Olivia de Havilland--and it looks like Catherine Deneuve, Clara Bow, Lana Turner, and Mary Pickford are on their way out. Meanwhile, I learned about a ton of actresses I’d never heard of before, only to shriek when Sharmila Tagore, Nadira, and Waheeda Rehman lost this round. (Edwige, I will never forget you.) 

Let me remind you (and me sometimes, too): Not everyone has the same taste or childhood attachments or cinema experiences as you. And everybody in this bracket loses. Everybody but one. 

(I can tell I’m not cut out for brawling because I’m like, “I will be very sad to see Norma Shearer go, but Hazel Scott seems nice!”)

--

“Actually, Mr. Musk, I am an attorney. Do you know that?” Here’s the highlights of Mark Bankston, the man who brought down Alex Jones, coping with Elon Musk and Elon Musk’s Lawyer, who is not even licensed in Texas, for 100 pages of deposition. 

Hozier Watch 2024: “Too Sweet” has now charted higher in the UK than “Take Me to Church,” and it’s getting real close on the US charts. This is a song that didn’t even make last year’s album. I am endlessly fascinated. 

Happy Leland Melvin Day!

Happy Neil Banging Out the Tunes Day!

“Posting endless DNIs because we can’t (or don’t know we can) make spaces just for the people we do want to interact with” actually makes a lot of sense in this centralized social media hellscape. 

There is a 20k mg weed gummy and nobody needs that. “Forget meeting the Hat Man this is what turns you into the Hat Man. This is worse than that torture drug that makes you experience 600 billion years in a second. This is the secret to honest to god shifting.” 

One of the best uses of the Kate Beaton Poe comic I’ve ever seen

“Americanisms that tell you to check on your American” (they are all correct)

“Tuxedo Mask is the first example of being ‘Kenough’”

Just this once, I will allow this AI rendition of a “traditional Polish family” and their traditional Polish woodchuck. 

I am absolutely not saying there is anything wrong with being into tentacles; I’m just saying that Pyramid Head doesn’t even have them and thus is a pretty tame choice to complain about. 

Little Guy, a game

A cursèd chair called “Oops!”

Sparrow Tarot: Honestly, this is one of my favorite takes on the Hanged Man.

This dog is a biscuit and she is precious

Video

One of the things that’s so great about this Ilia Malinin free-skate program is, he makes it look so effortless that I would have never figured out on my own, without Tumblr’s commentary, that there’s a couple moves in here that no one in the world can do but him. Like, the very first jump and the announcers start screaming. 

A journey from fearing moths to raising them

A dude puts on a dress For the Meme and then discovers that he loves it (and then he styles it as a full outfit and it looks SO GOOD)

Watching this cat ride around on a roomba on a sped-up surveillance camera is self-care.

So is this (although it’s a bit strobe-y)

Bat type: hi doggy

Was the jello for the tuna salad lamb supposed to be lime?

The sacred texts

Holy Shit, Two Cakes

The origin of “Me, an intellectual”

#AllMyLifeIHadToFight

Personal tag of the week

Designer Roberto Cavalli, who passed away this week at age 83. I reblogged several fashion posts--I hadn’t even realized myself that he had designed Beyoncé’s famous yellow dress in Lemonade.

[ijustsitinacorner]

I’m bored so here’s some Mikaela x Riddle or you can view it as Riddle x Reader

Summary: Just the Reader that posts on magicam like “day in my life” as a NRC student, or just posts on magicam like a creator does on TikTok.

Warnings: Cringy? Ion know Mikaela/Reader is unserious asf at times alright- She’s/they’re just silly

These are her/their words in quotes.

“My boyfriend doesn’t even have magicam, even if he were he’d probably not open that shit and opens it like once every three months or so…”

“No cause I literally created a folder of favorited videos and memes called “will show/send to Riddle eventually” cause I know he’s busy and I can’t keep spamming his phone with my bullshit.”

“Day in Night Raven College as I spot my boyfriend in the distance as he gets a dessert from the dessert aisle as if it were some sort of ritual for him to once a month at 7:15 in the morning be up at the cafeteria which no one is around to spot him getting a dessert…”

“…someone feed this poor boy.”

“Okay so Ace and Deuce just texted me in all caps saying Riddle is about to implode…That’s impossible he only EXplodes.

“Anyway should I be worried?”

“Okay so my boyfriend just told me he’ll have my head if I took more “embarrassing” or “unexpected” photos of him…”

“…Who’s gonna tell him I have a whole private album of photos of him sleeping after during late study dates? He looks adorable when he sleeps I can’t help myself-”

“No no no cause I LITERALLY, have to hide this from Ace. He’s snatched my phone enough times for me to chaise him down and drag him.”

“It’s all fun and games until Riddle finds out I have a 0.5 picture of him…”

“How am I still alive? Damn dude, question myself that everyday.”

Anyway thank you for reading/listening to my yapping.

😸

[medusapelagia]

17 AU-gust: Fallen Angel

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: none WC: 1466

Steve looks at his old profile on the dating app.

FallenAngel92. 

Robin chose the name obviously.

He hasn’t opened the app in years, but a few weeks ago Billy broke up with him and now Robin has finally convinced him to open the old app and put himself out there once more. 

The break up wasn’t a hard one, after years of relationship something shifted and when Billy was offered a good position in San Francisco he simply couldn’t say no. He even asked Steve to come with him, but Steve couldn’t leave Robin and they decided to break up.

They still text each other stupid memes, but they are no longer together and a few hours ago Billy posted a picture on Instagram where he was kissing another boy. 

Which is fine. Totally fine. But made his heart ache a little.

So FallenAngel92 is back, looking at some random pictures, trying to understand from a fake smile and a photoshopped photo if he might like the person behind the nickname.

He looks at the pictures of boys and girls, but he was never good at choosing, he was always the chosen one. 

He met Billy in High School, they started as enemies and ended up as one of the few gay couples of Hawkins.

It was hard, Steve’s parents don’t talk to him anymore, but he knows that he would have never had the courage to kiss a boy if Billy hadn’t kissed him first.

And what a kiss it was.

In the lockers, after they won the Championship game.

Well, Billy is far away with another guy and Steve has to try to meet new people. another thing he is not good at.

Even if he is a caring and lovely boy, somehow the first impression he makes on new people is always a bad one. Even Robin, who is like his platonic soulmate, thought that he was nothing more than a bully for months before they became friends.

That’s why she suggested going back to the app, just to make some practice of small talk.

What he is not expecting is to find an inbox after a few minutes of scrolling.

And from MetalDemon, nevertheless! Somehow it feels like a sign.

“Did you hurt yourself when you fell from the sky, FallenAngel?”

Ok. That’s cheesy. But with a nickname like that, he can’t really complain.

“Being a demon, you should know a thing or two about falling, don’t you?”

“Oh, I know a lot of things about falling. I usually fall on my knees for pretty boys like you. Do you really dress like a cute little sailor?”

Shit. He forgot to change his profile picture! It’s an old one for a Halloween party where he dressed in the Schoop Ahoy Uniform he wore at work during his first year of college.

“Well, that was a Halloween party. I usually dress more casually.”

“So no feathers for me?”

Steve snorts “Are you into feathers?”

“I’m into you, big boy. Your profile says that you are in Chicago. I’m here too for a few days and my job is beating my ass. Would you like to meet for a drink?”

He hasn’t had a date in years! He doesn’t know if he is ready for that.

He calls Robin right away, even if he knows she is still working at the pub.

“What’s the emergency? Did the house catch on fire? We have insurance somewhere.” she replies immediately.

“Not that kind of emergency Rob. The kind that someone is asking me out on that stupid app and I don’t know what to say.”

“Is he handsome?”

“I can’t really tell. He is playing in his picture and all I can see it’s the guitar and the hands. He has a lot of rings!”

“Mmmh… Do you feel ready?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know what? Ask him to come to the pub. I’ll be here and if anything goes wrong I’ll save you. No questions asked.”

“You are the best.”

“I know I am, but I’m still on the clock. Talk to you when I get back home! Love you dingus!”

“Love you too!”

“Sorry, a friend of mine called. Would you like to go grab a drink at the Upside Down?”

“Upside Down?”

“It’s a little pub I usually go to. But if you have any other ideas…”

“No, it’s fine, I’m not from here so everywhere is fine for me. Just text me the address and I’ll be there.”

“Ok. How we will recognize one another?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure we will find each other.”

***

Steve is sitting at the bar counter, sipping his second beer and there is no sight of MetalDemon.

He sighs. He shouldn’t be disappointed. He just texted a man he doesn’t know and he didn’t show up. It happens all the time. Still, it hurts.

“One more?” Robin asks, getting closer to him.

Steve looks at the clock, he has been waiting for almost two hours. He should go back home. Tomorrow he has to work.

“No, thanks, I’m fine. Thank you for keeping me company, I’ll see you at home.” Steve leaves some bills near his glass and goes toward the door, only to find himself hitting the floor hard.

“What the fuck!” he complains, holding his elbow.

“I’m so sorry! I was in a rush.” a dark-haired boy says, trying to help him lift from the ground.

He has slender fingers and many rings.

“MetalDemon?” he asks, confused.

“Oh god. It’s you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry…” but the boy doesn’t have the time to finish his apologies that Robin is between the two of them.

“You let my friend wait for you for two hours! You could have at least texted!”

“I know! I’m so sorry! But it wasn’t my fault. I mean. It was but it wasn’t! I just broke up with my boyfriend and one of my friends decided to set me up with some random guy and when he told me I got angry and I didn't really want to come. But then he told me I was being stupid and selfish, that at least I could have gone and grabbed a beer and I felt bad, and I wanted to come sooner but that stupid groupies will not let me go and…”

“Groupies? What?”

“Oh. I’m the lead singer of the Corroded Coffin. Didn’t Gar tell you that?”

Steve shakes his head, but he knows perfectly well the Corroded Coffin.

“Oh my god. You were at Hawkins High School! You won the battle band and got a contract with a major label.”

“How the fuck do you know?” The black-haired man looks at him confused, and then something clicks “Harrington? Is that you?!”

He nods.

“Oh my god. I’m going to kill Gar. I will. I swear! You are not some fucking random guy!”

Robin stares at them confused, and then she decides “Take a seat, I’ll give you the menu and you will explain to us what the hell is going on.”

Long story short, Eddie confesses that he had a crush on Steve since high school but when he finally resolved to confess his feelings to Steve, Billy beat him and he never got another opportunity.

“I found your profile on that app years ago, but I never dared to text you and then you disappeared again.”

Steve nods, he tried to use the app when he and Billy were having a crisis a few years ago but he never really chatted with anyone.

“Gar was playing with my phone, I suppose he saw you were online and he texted you. I’m so fucking sorry. I will understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore.”

Steve sighs.

His nickname is not random. Robin chose it because it represented Steve. A good guy destined to fail.

He should not be surprised that his first date ended up like this.

“You know what? I think you could be a good influence on our sad little angel. What do you say if you continue this conversation at home? We are closing and I’m dead on my feet.”

“Would you like that?” Eddie asks, shyly, and Steve finds out that he does.

He doesn’t care if this will turn into a relationship or not. Eddie is funny and has so many anecdotes to tell that the times fly and they end up talking till dawn.

When Eddie leaves Steve’s apartment he gives him his personal mobile phone.

“I’ll be back in Chicago in a couple of months. Would you like to go on a date with me? A real one?”

Steve nods, smiling, maybe this FallenAngel was always doomed to fall into a MetalDemon’s arms.

[house-of-slayterr]

Hannibal Crack-Cannons: aka Incorrect Quotes:

@myers-meadow-selfship @iloveslasher @the-limp-linguine

Hannibal:

Despite what you think, Hannibal IS a himbo…

Now hear me out. He’s obviously very educated, but when it comes to being a person he is CLUELESS.

Like Hannibal never expects someone to actually get close to him, and when they do, he panics. And he makes a bunch of clumsy little social mistakes, that frankly, are adorable.

He’s a friendship himbo and I stand by that!

S/O: *touches Hannibal’s hand in public, unprovoked*

Hannibal who is not used to genuine affection: *staring at them* why?

S/O: *facepalming*

William:

But if we wanna talk real Himbos….

Cause bro! Wtf are you doing? Homeboy is a MESS.

The only thought in Will’s head is that tik tok audio that’s like “I don’t know what’s going on, and frankly, I don’t wanna know” and he likes it like that.

Will on his 4th cup of coffee of the day: *pushes a door that CLEARLY says pull*

S/O: For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that *holds open door for him, smiling at how adorable he is when he gets flustered*

Jack:

This man is a FREAK!

Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think he’s into a lot of kinky shit in the bedroom. Man is a respectful switch!

Will: *seeing his boss by rope and duct tape at the corner store*

Jack: it’s not what it looks like-

Alana:

BI WIFE ENERGY, SHE HAS BI WIFE ENERGY!

I think Alana is also a switch, don’t know when this became a NSFW post but we’re rolling with it 🤪

But I totally see her letting men be dominate cause she doesn’t want to hurt their fragile little egos. But with a woman, oh boy! Alana cannot keep her hands to herself, and she doesn’t pretend to want to.

This woman is a flirt by nature. She will Gaslight, Gatekeeper and Girlboss her way into your heart. She’s a smooth motherfucker and you’ll never see her coming… I mean… unless you want to 👀 then by all means 😉

She totally humble brags about you latter.

Beverly:

A Roxy kinnie, prove me wrong!

That’s it, that’s the whole headcannon. If you know, you know!

Abigail:

Abigail is just Violet Harmon in a different universe, and thank god she never met her Tate. Oh dear god, what a night mare that would be!

Abigail with S/O:

Frederick:

There’s not even a headcannon here, just like, imagine if Fred was played by this motherfucker…

Instead of this motherfucker…

Also have this video of Fred’s actor being iconic, this is just Frederick when he’s alone 😂.

So I guess the headcannon is that Frederick is a musical theatre kid confirmed!

Belinda:

Wine Mom confirmed!

Freddie:

As we fucking should!

Mason:

This is just a shameless way for me to promote one of my old videos. I was proud of this meme and more people should see it!

Brian:

Drinks respect boyfriend juice!

But I also hope you like being a third wheel on dates, cause where Brian goes, Jimmy will be there. Good thing they’re both cute 😉

Jimmy:

Jimbo texting his S/O:

And anyone who gets a glimpse at these text is instantly terrified and convinced you’re both doing some sort of seance through the phone. But it’s just you’re average Tuesday.

Margo Verger as a lesbian icon:

[sapphire11]

all the words you didn't mean for me to hear

Part 2 of 'Secret Messages' a Break up era Tarlos fic Read Part 1 Here

Hello Again Everyone! Still posting this fic in 'mini' parts here on tumblr before releasing the whole thing on ao3. (still mostly because I need some encouragement and validation despite not feeling ready to publish it yet there and you all have always been supportive) Think of this as a little gift for being wonderful followers/mutuals 💛

Counting this as my Seven Sentence Sunday (Sneak Peak Sunday in my world) Thanks so much for the tags @ramblingdisaster73 & @ravens-words

Thank you to everyone who reached out with encouragement and kind words on the last part! (let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic or my Tarlos fics) @chaotictarlos @firstprince-history-huh @bubblesandroses8

We could lose him.

His own voice echoes in his mind as he shoves open the door to the stairwell. 

We could lose him.

His own voice is too loud in his head. Drowning out all others. Nancy’s reassurances, Captain Vega’s attempts at hopeful optimism. They’re all lost in the terror that grips him by the throat.

We could lose him.

His own voice shaking with fear that he doesn’t want to feel anymore. He needs to feel something else. Anything else. So he collapses on the top step of the stairs and roughly pulls out TK’s phone, headphones coming with it.

We could lose him.

His own voice echoes and he needs to drown it out with another.  

Hey babe … shit. Let me just …. *background noises, buttons being pressed rustling … 

Hey Carlos.

He turns and settles his back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, closing his eyes and allowing TK’s voice to block out everything else. 

How are you? I hope you’re doing okay. Nancy let me know that she’s still in touch. I’m glad; even if I think she only told me because she’s trying to get more information out of me about why we … well about what happened.

I hope that you are letting our friends be there for you. They’ve been trying to be there for me. Even as scattered as we all are at work. Paul still texts. Marjan sends me funny memes. Mateo begs for Marvel movie nights every time we have a night off together. It’s not the same, but it’s something. Plus, Doctor Matterson has been telling me to lean into those friendships; to that support. It helps. Sometimes.

On one hand it is worrisome that TK is so freely admitting that he’s struggling in these messages. On the other hand, he is grateful that TK still in some way was turning towards him, trusting him with the truth of his feelings. Of course he wishes that he’s trusted him at the time, but he knows how much it must have cost TK to admit this even in a message. He knows how even saying the words out loud can feel like you are giving them power over you. 

At the same time, he thinks about the way he pushed everyone away during the breakup. He didn’t want them to have to choose, he wanted TK to be able to vent and have people that were safe, away from Carlos, as TK seemed to want to keep them apart. He should have had more faith in his ex, in TK, in person he has always known him to be. Of course he’d want Carlos to have the same support, and of course he wouldn’t tell them anything. 

Other times it honestly just makes me miss you more. But I’m trying and I hope that counts for something.

It counts for everything, because if only in this hollow, cold, hospital stairwell, Carlos can admit that he didn’t try. He just gave up. Let the anger build inside him until there was nothing left to do, but to pretend to forget. To pretend to move on.

Just wanted you to know that I’ll be okay. That you don’t have to worry, because I know you. I want you to be okay too, so take care of yourself Carlos. Let our friends be there for you; it’s the least you deserve.

It’s the least you deserve

Those words burn into his mind, like the flash of light when you look directly at the sun. They’re all he can hear for a long time. 

He knows that TK left this message months ago. That he was alluding to the fact that Carlos doesn’t deserve to deal with what TK would call his ‘fucked up brain and mess’. But listening to this message now, it almost feels prophetic. It is as if TK is telling him that there is no other choice, but to lean on their friends.

If the worst comes to pass and TK doesn’t come back to him, he’ll try to take care of himself, for no other reason than because TK asked him to. Asked him in some stupid message recorded months ago in the middle of a communication drought, but it feels important. Moreover, it feels like the truth. TK asked him to take care of himself and now there might be no other options. 

TK’s wisdom about leaning on their friends propels him back towards the ICU waiting room. He finds Nancy and Tommy in the same chairs he left them, only now Mateo and Judd have joined them. 

“Hey man.” Judd nods, he’s the first one to notice him, and as he shifts off his spot leaning against the wall, Carlos freezes in place. Despite being compelled to come back, and feeling the itch to follow through with TK’s plea of letting their friends be there for him, he feels out of place. It’s been so long since he occupied the same space as all of these people that mean so much to TK, and it’s impossible to ignore the real reason why they’re all here together now. 

Judd watches him carefully, slowly making his way over with the look born of way too much knowledge surrounding grief. Carlos finds himself engulfed in the warmest hug he’s felt in a long while, the older man’s arms wrapped completely around him, shielding him for just a moment. When Judd pulls back and pats a hand on his shoulder, the look of understanding on his face brings tears to Carlos’ eyes. He can’t stand to look at it anymore as he turns towards the rest of the group who are doing their best imitation of not watching the spectacle. 

“Hey Carlos,” Mateo greets him with the least amount of exuberance he’s ever heard from the kid and a soft, careful hug. “We’ve missed you man. Just wish –” he stutters, a shifty glance thrown in the direction of TK’s room. 

“Me too, Mateo,” Carlos offers, “Thanks for coming. I know TK would appreciate it.”

“We’re here for you too.” The fierce insistence in Mateo’s voice is a clear holdover from other times. From months of Carlos’ absence in not just TK’s life, but all of these people’s. For the first time since the break up Carlos allows himself to feel the grief of the loss. The weight of it pulls him down and he sinks into the chair between Nancy and Tommy. Allowing them to take his hands in theirs again, except this time he doesn’t pull away. 

Mateo and Judd excuse themselves sometime soon after that, with mentions of needing to get some rest before starting a new shift early tomorrow. It’s a stark reminder that the world outside the walls of this hospital marches on. He wishes he had the power to slow it down, prevent the inevitable ending that hangs over him.

“Want to go grab some coffee?” Nancy’s voice breaks through his dark thoughts and he meets her gaze before turning towards the room that holds his heart. He knows what he wants to do. 

“I’m gonna go sit with TK.”

He feels Nancy follow his gaze and her hand landing on his shoulder. “I’ll grab you something,” she promises as they both get up and without a second glance he’s striding up to the door to TK’s room. Nothing has changed since the last time Carlos entered this room, the quiet slide of the door opening allows for the sounds inside to reach his ears. His heartbeat kicks up at the too slow, unsteady rhythm of the heart monitor. It brings him back to nights laying tangled up on the couch with TK, fingers and lips finding pulse points. The always higher than average beat of TK’s heart, that Carlos took great pride in making speed up with a well placed kiss. 

As he settles into the chair next to the bed, the hiss and click of the ventilator surrounds him. Wrapping around him like a noose, cutting off his access to the very thing that gives him life. It’s not air though, no that thing is TK, his liveliness, his energy, everything that makes up that man Carlos loves. Desperate to hear something else, besides everything that is wrong, he pulls TK’s phone out of his pocket. 

Opening the app he thinks how it’s better to listen to these now, while there is still hope, rather than later when they’re the words of a ghost. 

November 6th, 2021

Hey Carlos, is it weird if I tell you I saw you on a scene today? Probably. Sorry. You looked good. Really good. I’m glad you seem to be doing okay. 

Startled at the thought that he looked good at any time during the break up, Carlos tries to remember what shift that would have been, but the days blur together in his memory. He’s suddenly sad that he can’t remember the last time he saw TK at a scene before the disastrously awkward meeting earlier that day. 

Doctor Matterson has been encouraging me to reach out, try to talk, but I haven’t told her that I walked out and then ghosted you. I did tell her that I definitely don’t have the right to come waltzing back in, now that I finally have some shit figured out.

She says that having the conversation might do us both some good. Help us move on. Find closure. I think that it’s just easier to keep the door as firmly shut as that day I walked out. Am I a coward for that, probably, but at least I’ll survive to tell the tale. 

Move on. Find Closure. Survive to tell the tale. 

He wonders why TK’s words always land like an arrow to his heart. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to move on after this. Find the closure that TK alludes to in his message. He wonders if TK felt like he was finding closure all those months ago, or if he was just pretending like Carlos was. 

The anguish he feels hearing TK tell him that he thinks it would be better to keep the door shut. That TK forgot he held the key to every door Carlos ever had, all he had to do was come back, be there, talk, and Carlos wouldn’t have kept him out. 

Mind whirling, the sounds of the medical equipment grow louder again and Carlos clicks the next message.

November 8th, 2021

“Hey. So I’ve been keeping busy.  

TK’s voice floats over him as he stares unseeing at the body lying in the bed, unconsciously he closes his eyes, imagining the voice is coming from the man himself. 

Work has been good. Steady.

Scaled down to therapy twice a week. Meetings. I’ve been trying. 

Some days I think it’s working, but then I remember how good we had it before and how that blew up in my face. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m okay. That I’m not giving up. 

It’s such a short message, but the tone of the message is different from all the previous ones. The tone of TK’s voice pitched up, an attempt at lightheartedness. It’s not quite sincere, but there is a flicker of truth underneath it, like TK maybe had started to believe some part of what he was saying, that he wasn’t giving up. 

Carlos longs to reach out and take TK’s hand now, to beg him to keep fighting, to not give up. Old insecurities hold him back, but he moves the chair a bit closer, the legs scratching loudly across the floor, and then he leans closer still as he hits play for the next message.

November 10th, 2021

Dad left. Said he was sorry he couldn’t do more for the 126 and just ran away into hill country. I want to be so mad at him, until I remember that running is exactly what I do, did, have done. I don’t know. Some days it sucks to be a Strand.

And just like that all traces of hope are washed away again. Sucked out by the force of Owen Strand’s distinct lack of ability to be what TK needs when Owen himself is struggling to not be the hero everyone else sees him as. Anger stirs in the pit of Carlos’ stomach at the reminder that no one has been able to reach Owen since TK was admitted. That he’s not here now when TK needs him, and that he apparently hasn’t been for a long time. 

It’s a kick in the gut that despite TK’s own words several messages ago that Owen could tell he wasn’t doing well, the man still couldn’t face being just what TK needs if he couldn’t be what he wanted. 

Mom’s been trying to get me to go visit her. She’s got Jonah and can’t travel, otherwise I know she’d be here right now. She’s worried. She’s also pissed, I heard her yelling at dad through the phone. It didn’t change anything though. 

Nothing really ever changes, does it? At least not the things that matter.

The words are a clear contradiction to who TK is at his core. TK has never believed in permanence of situations/people/feelings, sometimes to the detriment of believing that nothing good ever stays, but he always believed that things could change. 

Once, TK had told him that ‘nothing ever stays the same’ and now he’s saying that ‘nothing ever changes’. He supposes the sentiments aren’t necessarily the same, but the lack of hopefulness in the words blankets him. Even at his most wary, even when he was pushing and pulling Carlos in every direction, TK never completely disregarded the possibility of things changing. 

In the beginning TK had told him he wasn’t ready. Not that he wouldn’t ever be ready.

Before the solar storm TK told him that he needed to figure out himself before he could figure them out. Not that he would never be willing to figure them out.

With Carlos’ parents, TK promised to be whatever he needed, until he was ready because, nothing ever stays the same and he had faith in Carlos being ready sometime. 

After the fire the number of times TK comforted him by reminding him that living with Owen wouldn’t be a forever thing, that things change. 

During their last fight TK had shouted that he knew it wouldn’t last, that nothing ever stays the same. At the time it had just hurt to hear those words that Carlos once took reassurance from used against him. Now he is hit with the realization that TK hasn’t had anything permanent. He hasn’t had anything stay for him, not his parents, not his sobriety, not his love.

Carlos wants to be the one to change that. Same as he always has, but now with a new understanding of why TK doesn’t believe happiness will last. 

With that thought he clicks play on the next message.  

[pythianoracle]

PSA About Some Shady Shit on Tumblr

This post is to bring light to some shady marketing on tumblr. This is not about an individual, but rather as a company posing as an aesthetic/meme account in order to get people to buy from their shitty drop shipping company.

I am making this post because I am sick of covert marketing and drop shippers over charging for the same stuff that can be found for cheaper and by the actual company. I am also concerned for the possible hazard of drop shipped items that need to be food safe in order to use.

Tumblr user @/my-kawaii—world is a drop shipping company pretending to be an aesthetic blogger who happens to “find” links to all the products in posts. All these links lead to the same drop shipping company website: Lavender Constellation. Under the cut is evidence to support my claim.

Alt text has been added for accessibility.

Hey, so I’m really not one to make posts like this, but I saw something that rlly sketched me out that some people may want to be aware of.

So, someone I follow reblogged this really cute teapot that my-kawaii—world posted!

[ID: a screenshot of a tweet reposted by user my-kawaii—world on tumblr. The post reads “losing my mind over this frog teapot my best friend gave me”. Attached to the tweet are two images showing a green frog teapot with two black tadpole cups. ID END]

Seems innocent enough, right? But then you scroll to the end of the post.

[ID: A screenshot of the bottom of the previous post by my-kawaii—world. Attached is a link to a storefront in green and pink text that reads “**Update For the people asking I asked her and she bought the frog tea set HERE🐸. ID END]

I thought “dang, a ton of people must have been asking them if they went to all that extra effort”, so I decided to check the tags.

[ID: A screenshot of the post reblogs with the user names blocked out in red to respect privacy. From top to bottom, the tags read: #cat #basically #cats and #haha. ID END]

Why would people be tagging this with cats if it has nothing to do with cats? Looking further, if you open up a reblog, you see this.

[ID: A screenshot a reblog that shows a different tweet. Punctuation has been added to alt text for readability. The tweet reads as follows: “Me: Invents a device to talk to cats. Cat: Oh god, finally you understand me. When ever I meow for hours it’s because I want wet food. I know this was so opaque for you. Me: No no, I knew you want wet food the whole time, but you can’t have it whenever you want. Cat: (blank space) Me: (blank space) Cat: first of all, fuck you,”. ID END]

They’re retroactively editing their high note posts to give more credibility to the shit they’re selling. Here is the listing on the linked website

[ID: a screenshot of a website called “Lavender Constellation”. The website has a light purple background with darker purple text. The listing image is of a green frog teapot with two black tadpole cups on a pink background and labeled “TEA SET FROG & TADPOLE”. The item’s original price is listed as $149.95 USD and is listed as on sale for $79.99 USD. ID END]

Wow isn’t it so cool that it’s on sale right now? Save over $60 USD? What a steal! They also offer free world-wide shipping and have a coupon code you can use. Crazy.

Upon further digging, the real teapot is the frog from the サンアート aka sunart brand, specifically from their parent and child collection. And guess what? You can get it on Amazon for less than half the price, even after the “sale”.

[ID: a screenshot of the same green frog teapot and black tadpole cups listen on Amazon. At the bottom are options to select, including Frog Parent, Elephant Parent, and an additional one that is cut off. The frog parent is $32.96 USD and the elephant parent is $26.22 USD. ID END]

I looked into the brand and they seem to specifically make ceramics additionally, the options to pick less popular options that I don’t see nearly as many bootlegs of make me pretty confident this is the actual product.

This is far from the only post they’ve done this with. Looking at their blog, you’ll see a sea of ads for their original posts, all linking to the same store:

[ID: A screenshot of a post by my-kawaii—world. The post is cut off due to the size of the device it was taken on. In the screenshot, there is an image of a silver sword ring with a skull on the pommel and a chain connecting the pommel to the cross-guard. Below the image is a link that red, bolded, and underlined text that reads: “OMG, I FINALLY FOUND THE RIGHT WITH FREE SHIPPING!!!!”. ID END]

And then following the link, we get taken right back to the Lavender Constellation website:

[ID: A screenshot of the same Lavender Collection Website from before with a pale purple background and darker purple text. The listing photo is of a person’s hand with a silver ring in the shape of a sword. It has a skull on the pommel and a chain connecting the pommel to the cross-guard. The listing is labeled “STAINLESS STEEL GOTH SWORD RING” in purple text. ID END]

If you go to their page, you will see a ton of other examples of this. Hell, I have even more examples, but I feel this post is long enough as is. I’m frankly fed up with people doing this shit, especially charging over double the price of an original product for a shitty knock off.

I’m not going to comment of the safety of these products (i.e., if the knock off teapot is food safe or not) because I don’t plan on buying one to test for lead, but that is a genuine risk you have when buying drop shipped products. For example, counterfeit makeup is well known for containing chemicals that can be harmful to the skin due because they’re much cheaper than the skin safe stuff. Here is a research article that discusses some of the harmful effects that unregulated, counterfeit makeup can have on your skin. The article is open access, so don’t worry about being blocked by a paywall.

Again, I don’t know if the counterfeit teapot is food safe or not, I haven’t been able to find any posts discussing the bootleg, or even Lavendar Constellation as a whole, but with stuff like this, it’s much better to be safe than sorry.

I am positive my-kawaii—world and Lavender Constellation are not the only people running operations like this on tumblr, I’m sure there are a shit ton more. Most will probably run the same way as my-kawaii—world. Essentially if you go to a page that posts a ton of cute, aesthetic products and they link to the same website for every single thing, it’s probably a drop shipping scam.

I’m not someone who thinks I’m “morally superior” for buying only name brand stuff, hell I own a few bootleg plushies, but items that need to food safe are not something I personally would fuck around with. And even if these bootlegs are food safe, the fact that they are charging over double the price of the original is so ludicrous and inexcusable.

Personally, I recommend blocking the @/my-kawaii—world account. Don’t micromanage people who have already reblogged from them unless they’re a friend, mutual, etc. Basically, don’t harass strangers who happened to reblog the original post or the edited post. Just get the word out there about this account.

Do I think my post will shut down their site and drive them off Tumblr? Probably not. But the more people that know about this specific scam and scams like it, the better.

[aimless-aimz]

BLOG STUFF WOOO

heyyy uh this originally was just a dni list. But now I’m gonna do smth soon that might help ppl looking through my stuff!

i am tagging what I post with one of four things always:

-“aimless rambles” I just say random shit.

-“aimless art” this is my art. I drew this, not anyone else unless said otherwise

-“not my art” a reblog of someone’s art. I typically only reblog art I REALLY REALLY like, and if you’re looking through my stuff, you might like this too!

-“reblog” reblogs for memes or text. Idk if it’s just me, but when I look through a blog for art and just see MILLIONS of reblogs it bothers me. So if you want to see something, search up the tags above. This is just shit I find funny or important.

-”break the void” is my personal series! i hope to be a graphic novelist one day and this is my personal storyline. if you’re feeling nice, please check through it. there are like 3 posts on it tho but i might make more as time goes on :]

-“self rb” pretty self explanatory lmao

-“aimless’ animals” is my pet tag!! So far all that’s in there is a few snail posts (they died but the posts are still there for your enjoyment) but if i get another pet and post abt them, they’ll go in this tag!

or. You can disregard ALL of this and go through my blog wild style. Cartoon “honey, are we lost?” Style.

DNI LIST

Hey uh. So I saw a few people who posted/had pfps that were nsfw who followed me. So this is a reminder of dnis! :)

first off: I am a minor. Suggestive is fine, sex jokes are fine, but NO NSFW!! Ty :)

Also, i do not like:

homo/transphobes

Bigots/bigotry

overall unpleasant people

disorder fakers

again, nsfw content makers (except if it’s for private commissions, and you don’t just post porn 💀💀 you can interact if you MAKE it but don’t SHOW it to ppl I have nothing against that)

judgemental people

Anyways. if you are not that PLEASE interact because. hi internet people. I post art and you are allowed to look at it. You don’t even have to like it lmao

OTHER BLOGS

my pokeblogging account is @carmen-caught-em

my oc centered pokeblogging acc is @haunting-hari

and another oc pokeblogging acc i have is @mmaxie-musings

i also have two fakemon blogs, @team-enlighten-official (evil team) and a general info one run by a professor, @all-of-altosi (please check these out I’m so normal)

um. legendary chosens @regice-real @poison-pecha-berry

my gimmick blog is @psychicdamage-identified

[diagonal-queen]

a post with the following text existed on my blog for about three seconds before i realized i posted it because i wanted you to see it and that’s it so uh. i’m just going to send you an ask like a reasonable person now

wouldn’t it be so silly if i revived my writing skills for the first time in months just to shove some detective agency and/or decay guys in a game of phasmophobia together

jkjk. unless

(all jokes aside though i’m like maybe 25% into this and i’m still questioning whether or not i should actually finish/post it because a) this is a really stupid idea and b) half of it is going to be keyboard smashes and not actual good writing so if anybody were to see it they *cough cough* you *cough* would think i am a less good writer than i actually am. except im really not much better than shitpost content anyways so i have no idea why i’m even worried about this)

anyway uh. opinions on this idea

can i admit something very pathetic?

i've never played phasmophobia and i've never seen anyone else play it. i had to take to the gc and ask the gang what it was about. so now i know. and oh my god, please write that omg. that sounds like an absolute riot. also i'm bottom leaning so i'm fluent in keysmash what who said that

i would read the shit out of that ngl. and no i promise just because it's silly n goofy doesn't make you look like a bad writer trust me i promise <33333 make sure you tag me in it when it's finished though ok?

have a meme i found on pinterest

[roboromantic]

episode 16.

Is this Cube? /j

wait a sec all the captions on that page are Destiny related sdjfhsdjkfhskjdfh

SAY THE LINE, STARSCREAM!

That’s……………………not quite how that went when Alex told the story 🤔 It seemed pretty obvious in his telling that Megatron was still leading the Decepticons when the spacebridge got destroyed. I know they pointed out that he was really simplifying things at the time but still. the order of events seems kinda important to get right

Also I guess Soundwave never really looked like his G1 version in this continuity? Seems like a bit of a weird choice but maybe they just didn’t wanna have to make another model

Megs also seems surprised by the fact that the bridge got blown up so 👀 blease I wanna know everything

Hgdjkfhgfjghjd

HSJLFDHLJKFHSDLJDFGLHJSDE MEGATRON’S THERE?????????????? *shrek voice* he doesn’t even get to play himself 😔

PLEASE LET THE MAN SPEAK

HASHTAG THIS IS NOT THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!

oh shit they’re referencing the spark flowers from IDW1, damn

maybe there’s a message here but it looks to be mostly gibberish and I ain’t gonna take the time to go through all of it just in case.             At least not right now

I’ve already seen a post comparing Blitzwing to the pointing wojak meme but I mean. It really does look like that sdjfhgsjdhfs

It woulda been neat if the graffiti was this ↓ but that mighta been a bit much to hope for

The text here is the same gibberish but upside-down and mirrored I guess for variety? But the fact that it now looks right-aligned just makes it look super out of place imo

Also it’s getting squished at the bottom (top?) instead of cut off, which is interesting

Your darkest hour, you say 👀

SDHFGDSJHFGSJH YOU CALL THAT SNEAKING???

Why is Shockwave’s head so dang small

“We began this war so none would kneel” OH? DO TELL 👀👀👀

I mean I don’t really wanna rehash the “Cybertronian government was corrupt and both the Autobots and Decepticons wanted change but the Decepticons were more ~violent~ about it” but then again without the idea of a frame type it’s a bit less.   Bad

He did this at the beginning too obviously but Why exactly is Bee apologizing to Skrapnel. Was he with the Autobots for a bit???

Why are they replaying the whole dang thing. To fill time???

“I get why it started, but once it became Autobot vs Decepticons-“ PLEASE…………..DEETS…………..

JKSADHFSJSDKLJGHFDJKGHKSJKDFH “WHO DID THIS?”

man comes up here like “At last we meet again” and then refuses to believe any significant amount of time has passed? Lmao

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm there’s a Lot I could get into there but it’s late and I got a finale to watch so

OH NO WHY DOES IT MAKE THEM GRAY D:

Alien crab mech tank thing seems to be the standard Shockwave alt nowadays but once again I do wish Gun was an option

“ugly giant bags of mostly water”

………………………….I know what he meant but the way Thrash worded it made it sound like he did in fact shit himself, he just doesn’t wear pants

“Do better” is really not helpful like. I get that they’re kids and all but more concrete info on what the differences were between the factions and how they got exacerbated to the point of potentially killing their entire planet and advice on how to stop things before they escalate that far would be a Lot more useful.

this episode gave us a lot but still somehow managed to not answer anything satisfactorily aaaaaahhhhhh

--

actually I think I’m gonna save the finale for tomorrow I’m getting tired

[terrainofheartfelt]

i’m reading your lovely jenate fanfic rn and one of the details i’ve really been enjoying is the way you characterize the sibling relationship between jenny and dan! and it has me wondering, more generally, how do you picture dan and jenny’s relationship playing out as adults? we don’t really get to see jenny post going to london on the actual show, and i’m curious how things might have changed or evolved between them with them both being on more equal relational footing, so to speak. (i also think i remember you mentioning here that you yourself have siblings, so as an only child i can imagine you probably have a much more nuanced picture of this than i do lol)

ohhhh thank you so much!!! this is something that I actually explore in the next chapter (posting forthcoming), but I'll talk about it now just to get ahead of that lol

I am thinking, in show canon -- and in the canon i construct in this au in which the show ends after Despicable B ;) -- that Jenny sort of...gives herself a clean break from all things New York, including Dan. and Dan, with all his abandonment issues, takes that harder than she probably sees at the time, but completely removing herself is what she needs the most in that moment. and then, a couple years later, they gravitate closer, but virtually.

with their work being so time-consuming and not really on the typical layman's schedule (like, writer and fashion designer lol what free time) they don't really have time to full on talk on the phone or facetime, but they text regularly, often over an inside joke or a link or a meme they need the other to see (because their partner wouldn't find it as funny)

I think Jenny as a grown up would find it easier to talk to Dan first about things over their parents, and vice versa, because their is this sibling kind of thing were no other person quite understands you the same way, and has known you this long and loved you this long. but the love is different from the love you feel with your parents. i'm not sure if this is entirely accurate...but the love feels...more unconditional somehow, because a sibling has more choice in loving you, but less failures of doing so.

and yes! I do have an older brother, our age difference (3 years) is slightly larger than Dan & Jenny's, but my relationship and experience with him informs - consciously and unconsciously - a LOT of how I write Jenny & Dan. Disclaimer: our pasts are not nearly as traumatic as these fake people, and our parents are still together (over 30 years WOOT WOOT), so our life experiences don't exactly line up

but that being said, I look up to my brother so much. and I switched school mid highschool (like jenny but for less fraught reasons) so I went from being "Andrew's Little Sister" everywhere I went to being just Liz, just myself. and that's an adjustment, from always being the little sister to growing into your own person, and I wouldn't have gotten that opportunity without moving schools, and Jenny probably wouldn't have without moving to London.

and my brother and I have followed our own paths and live in different timezones (and regularly different countries, he splits his time between the US and Canada it's a whole thing), but I never don't feel like he isn't there for me. I know with him I always have a place to crash and someone to send me cute pet pictures when I'm sad and someone who is just as worried about my dad's health as I am (again, whole other thing, not gonna get into it bc privacy but yeah). and I am never entirely lonely as long as he is existing someplace in this world. shit I'm gettting emotional just talking about it but,

he's the guy that drove me to my piano lessons and teased me for my music taste and took me to my first punk show and said "that was so good!" after every performance even though he knows nothing about opera. and when I had a 3 month contract in florida and couldn't take my cat with me he fostered Steph and now Andrew is Steve's favorite person and when I was unemployed I crashed in his apt while he was organized for the 2020 Iowa caucus and he crashed on my couch to visit me after I got my job and moved and we smoke weed and recite monty python and joke and laugh together and I can be a version of myself with my big brother in a way that I can't be with anyone else.

so to bring it back to your meta question, lmao, I imagine and attempt to write Jenny's relationship with her big brother in the same way. it's never the same as when they lived in the same house, and that's hard. (because they stopped living in the same house when he was 18 and she 16 and you can never really go back to that), and they each have their own lives and careers and loves that keep them where they are, but they are still always just...their for each other. and, if given the choice, they are the first person to hear the other's good news.

[wlw-venting-blog]

Ok I truly hope nobody I know personally finds this and - preface this is going to be a bit long and I don’t really know if this is the kind of ask you’re looking for but I needed to get my feelings out and maybe advice/nf but don’t feel pressured

I made friends with this ‘girl’ let’s call them S, around 5/6 years ago at a summer camp, we clicked instantly and for a while they where my only friend, we would go on walks together, go places, have sleep overs, play video games online together - we were inseparable, we unfortunately didn’t go to the same school but that didn’t stop us, we would hang out ever weekend basically

My parents are / where split, my dad was. Shit garbage, but that’s a long story- but I had broke down crying in front of them because something my father had done, the only friend I’ve cried infront of, I trusted them deeply, but I had contact with them (we where young - ish) through my father, so when I ended up with my mother I lost contact but they eventually found me again

We got back to talking our friendship stronger then ever! It was amazing! They still where my only friend other then a group of school friends.. one of which I had a crush on- and I talked to S about this crush and we joked about it and she was there cheering me on over text when I confessed to this girl. Who turned me down. Then said “oh wait actually! I like you and have had a crush on you for a while” then was like “jk I’m straight the rest of the group dared me to do it when I told them”- S and I got closer after that, they comforted me, we both tried to laugh about it and- slightly teasing me for having bad taste,

I had moved since we were in contact when we where younger(ish) to this place that was really safe to walk around, places to walk, things to do etc, so they were over basically every weekend, and once it was summer all the time, it was like they lived there, we would walk at night, listen to music together, joke around, probably annoy the neighbors, look at the stars and discuss our shared love for art, or writing or whatever we where interested in at the time

Eventually I fell for them, and it was different then my little crush with school friends.. they really meant something to me, looking back they were.. a bit disrespectful but I thought they were the coolest, most amazing person ever, being around them gave me butterflies, I didn’t want to mess up our friendship, but part of me hoped they felt the same, so I dropped hints and was an idiot about it - eventually doubling down and just confessing. In the most dumb stupid idiot way ever of texting them an image that was like, a text post of “hey I like you I think you’re super cool here’s why and like I don’t wanna ruin anything and aaa” and they sent like?? A meme back- and ignored it,

I never got over this crush on them, when I was going through shit I lived to see them every weekend, like I said, we did everything together, and sure they had red flags but I didn’t see them… once I kinda forgot the 1/2 confession I fell back into obsessing over them, they where my only friend, they knew that, and they started saying things like, “we should move in together when we’re older” “we should be roommates when we’re in college” “we could have… these pets together :D” [ar this point we where both out as sapphic / lesbian] and oh that made my crush so much worse- I started to believe they liked me back, and I kept this idea of a future in my heart for like, nearly a year, and they would say things- describing their ideal partner and it would sound an awful lot like me and my brain hung onto these things

As I moved again, we grew apart, I was no longer somewhere close to them or somewhere walkable, but we still tried, and I tried to get over my crush on them with the distance (physically) we had now- I even like? Tried to get crushes on other people like force myself to distract from it and it worked for awhile, I was even in a qpr for a little, but I just could stop thinking of them,, so I broke the qpr off and went back to them being my only friend

Moved again, year later ish, (to where I am now) and we got closer again, again. Still my only friend, the summer was great though, they seemed to enjoy our time together.. less, always having to be doing something or on their phone or watching something when we where together, my mental health started to depend on if they were present or not, they always made me feel unsure if they where going to show up for big event things/plans when they knew if they didn’t I would be alone, we kept playing games online and when they vented to me I would listen and tell them they where a great person and deserved the best - leaving out that for some reason I was still in love with them

I finally told my mom about this crush, she was supportive, she walked me through it, what to do, how to deal with my feelings - as I had been made to feel ashamed for liking anyone by my other parental figure, and she helped me build up the confidence to give them a little, nice gesture, a hand made bouquet of sewn flowers - that I would give THEM on MY birthday lol, and they showed up for my birthday. They didn’t say thank you for the flowers. They where on their phone the whole time, they where short with me, they ignored me, bossed me around, made fun of my favorite movie I was trying to show them. They stayed the night and we went to the town I grew up in for lunch. They sat across the table and ignored me, on their phone, they where rude to the waiters and made me order for them. They didn’t speak to me for 1/2 an hour, and only did when I offered to start heading home, the fucking effort it took not to cry around them- my parent picked us up (I don’t drive) they where silent, avoided eyecontact the whole drive. We got home, refused to do like the cutting cake thing with us, then left, went home

i cried. I yelled I sobbed- my mom was angry at them for hurting me, I was sad they where upset with me and ignored me, they sent some mean petty messages afterwards, with fake apologizes and FAR to many emojis for a sincere reply

Time passed we didn’t talk I didn’t know what to do with myself, I tried to reach out a couple times.. just to clear my mind I sent a long message to an account I knew they most likely wouldn’t have checked, basically admitted I had liked them, that I still liked them - they didn’t see it - more time passed - I tried to reach out because I didn’t want to loose my best friend of 6 years, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, they ignored me

But recently I guess they read the message. 3 months later then I sent it they read it, at like- 3am they responded, a lot response full of sorrow and guilt and kindness that sounded like the sweet caring person I knew, then… they said “I liked you. I thought I did. I still don’t know” and that they saw a future with me, unclear platonic or otherwise and I died/hyp I saw that as a chance as a confirmation that I wasn’t crazy that they had liked me, I get back into contact with them, we stay up talking 3 nights in a row over text… avoiding anything sent in the long, heartfelt message, they said “they weren’t ready to talk about it” like that’s something they get to decide, then they’re starting to go back to.. unresponsive, short awnsers and they still won’t bring up anything they said before, when all I want is to address some of the things they said - and I don’t know what to do, because I still love them, I would drop anything to have a future with them - and as we talk I realize how much they’ve moved on, that they admitted to having crushes on people well we weren’t talking which is like - obviously not a problem but hurt a littl yk? And I really like them and I feel like I shouldn’t cause of what they did and I d

~ emm, thank you for your time, 🤍/p have a good day! I’m a dumb lesbian sob sob

Girl, this was a rollacoster of emotions.

I know nothing about this friend of yours, so take my opinion with a grain of salt, but they sound toxic and I think you should try to distance yourself from them. I know it's super hard to do that when they're your only friend, but I still think you should. Maybe join a club or smth that'll let you be exposed to new people who will treat you better.

And feel free to dm me if you need to talk

[zerosocialskillz]

Woah, it’s been a whole year? Time sure does fly, huh. I met some more users and I feel like I indulged myself into the tumblr ecosystem even more when I fell in love (platonically) with my mutuals.

So, anyway…

I posted 22,170 times in 2022

That's 10,725 more posts than 2021!

367 posts created (2%)

21,803 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@terminaxshowtime

@theloisthatlikes

@chillywillow1

@makerofmadness

@time-travel-toke-up

I tagged 2,637 of my posts in 2022

#blorbo - 381 posts

#attempts at socializing - 289 posts

#*wheeze* - 281 posts

#cat - 114 posts

#madness combat - 107 posts

#long post - 100 posts

#ask - 72 posts

#friday night funkin - 65 posts

#friday night funkin’ - 49 posts

#*big wheeze* - 45 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#mostly because i’m waiting for a certain mod to release so i can make a voicebank out of the person who’s going to be eggman in this cover

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Here’s a random meme I made today

57 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#4

So apparently the hands in Dream Buffet are called “server hands.”

…

In my heart, these guys are Master and Crazy. No buts.

60 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#3

For whatever reason (maybe because it’s pretty much canon), I like to imagine that 2BDamned has two sides: his serious/real world side, and a silly/shitpost/chat side.

His serious side is what the others know about him on a surface level. If anything, there is literally no signs of his shitpost side existing.

If he communicates via phone, his silly side shows. Using lots of internet slang and memes and all of that shit, he seems like a completely different person.

I like to think that his silly side is his true personality, unable to manifest due to multiple reasons, but text messages are a workaround, revealing his hidden silliness. And the quartet know this.

Because of this, his two sides can coexist. One exists on reality, while the other exists in chat messages.

I like to imagine scenes like 2B sending a message to the AAHW like “imagine dying to a dissenter lol” or something along the lines while his demeanor is still serious as he kills agents.

And also, him sending a message in his resting bitch face, with the message being, I dunno, Never Gonna Give You Up?

61 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

#2

if you've seen this... what the hell do you think this means because I am freaking out

See the full post

90 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

If you’re wondering about the stolen pastry part for Hank, look no further at a little Madness game called Madness Interactive where the sheriff stole Hank’s pie.

194 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[kierancaz]

Me any time I see Legolas: look at this BRO*, look at this DUDE*, look at this HOMIE*

*bro: romantic/affectionate

*dude: romantic/affectionate

*homie: romantic/affectionate