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dakusan · 10 days ago

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B e G o o d F o r M e

Felix x Reader | praise-soaked filth, soft aftercare, and a thigh you’d die for

synopsis: He’s sunshine in the hallway. A hand on your lower back. A kiss to your temple. But tonight? He tells you to ride his thigh like you were made for it. Spits on your pussy, praises your cries, and fucks you through every broken sob until your voice is gone and your body’s trembling. And the worst part? He still calls you “baby.” Still holds your hand. Still whispers, “One more for me, yeah?” with that fucking smile. You thought you knew Felix. Until tonight, you were proven wrong.

💌a/n: okay so this was requested by 🦔anon and honestly? i blacked out somewhere between “ride my thigh” and “you ruined my guts, felix.” idk if i did well. i feel a lil unsatisfied but also my brain was full of static and lust and then halfway through writing i got violently pulled into a side quest where i had to help my mother BURN A FUCKING WASP NEST that decided to colonize our garden shed like it pays rent??? do i feel like i could’ve gone a different route? sure. do i also kinda love how this spiralled into daddy thigh riding praise ruin sunshine aftermath hours™? also yes. idk. i feel conflicted. if you loved it? i am kissing your forehead with consent. p.s. if you reblog it???? i will cry. on your carpet. gently. if you comment, i respect you. and if you're still here, i love you. p.p.s. i don’t even like wasps but i think one of them is haunting me now

📌 Please ride responsibly. Moan louder. Hydrate after.

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

🎧 » Mmmh — KAI « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:12 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

You met Felix under the fluorescents of a backline studio.

He had walked in humming—hoodie sleeves tugged over his hands, freckled face flushed from rehearsal, damp hair curling around his temples—and dropped his bag with a thud that made your audio meters spike. It was your second week working with Stray Kids’ internal production team, still proving yourself in a room full of idols and engineers who already moved like family.

But Felix? He’d smiled at you.

And not the polite, press-trained one. The real one—the kind that cracked wide open, all dimples and gold, the kind that made you forget your own name for a full five seconds.

“Hey, new sound girl,” he’d said. “You got magic fingers or something? This mix sounds insane.”

You didn’t blush. (You absolutely blushed.)

From there, it built in quiet pulses. Shared coffee runs. Long nights layering harmonies in empty booths. The two of you tucked into a corner of the console, your hands moving across sliders while his voice—that voice—poured like honey into the headphones. It didn’t take long before he was leaning into you, brushing your wrist with his pinky, whispering, “You always smell so good…” in a way that made your pulse hiccup behind your ears.

Six months later, he was in your bed. Not just once. Often. Softly. Cuddled behind you in oversized sleep shirts, brushing your hair out of your face in the morning. Whispering things like “I’m so lucky I get to love you” and giggling when you squirmed under the weight of it. He’d bring takeout to your place after double shifts. Leave notes tucked in your laptop bag. Keep his toothbrush beside yours in the cup.

You knew him as Felix the angel. Felix the sweet. Felix the clingy little golden retriever who kissed your temples and held your hand under the dinner table. Even the sex had been like that—sweet, devotional, slow. He called you beautiful. He was perfect. Made you feel like you were living in heaven.

But something had been changing lately.

Little things. A sharper look in his eyes when you teased him too far. A rougher grip on your waist when he pulled you onto his lap in the studio. That one time his voice dipped too low in a live take and you jolted so hard you hit the mute switch. You’d laughed it off.

But Felix had seen. And Felix never forgot.

Tonight, it starts like all the others.

Long day in the studio. Changbin and Chan gone before midnight. Felix stayed with you—always did—half-sprawled on the couch, hair tied back, legs propped up, scrolling through beat drafts while you fixed the last few compression issues on Jeongin’s verse.

He kept glancing over at you.

Not in a sweet boyfriend way. In a watching-you way. Like he knew something you didn’t.

You feel it again when you both get home—your place, still messy from the ramen rush earlier, one overhead light on low. You stretch your arms, ready to slip into something more comfortable, and murmur:

“God, you sounded so good today. That second take in the booth? Nearly melted me.”

Silence.

You glance over your shoulder. Felix has dropped his bag by the door, but hasn’t moved since. He’s standing there. Still. Head tilted. Eyes… dark.

“Yeah?” he says. Quiet. “You liked the way I sounded?”

Something in your stomach tightens.

“You always sound good,” you reply with a nervous smile, turning to walk toward the bathroom. “I mean, I mix you for hours every week, Lix. I—”

But he catches your wrist.

Not hard. Not harsh.

But firm.

“Say that again.” His voice is still soft. But it slips now. Deeper. Tighter. “Say I sounded good. While I was making you melt.”

Your heart stutters. He takes a step forward.

“Felix…?”

He watches your throat bob as you swallow.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” he murmurs, crowding into your space. His palm slides down to your waist, warm and grounding, deceptively sweet. “I’ve been thinking about the way you react when my voice drops. The way you get quiet. Still. Like you’re waiting for something.”

You can’t speak. He presses forward again, herding you toward the couch.

“I’ve been good,” he says, lower now. Freckles glowing like they’re under a full moon. “I’ve been so good. But you keep pushing. You keep giving me that look like you want me to break.”

He stops when the back of your knees hit the couch cushion.

“So tonight, baby,” he whispers, brushing his lips against your ear, “You’re gonna let me.”

Felix’s hand finds your throat—not squeezing, just pressing you still, guiding you down further onto the couch with a gentleness that makes the control feel even stronger. Your back hits the cushion. You blink up at him, breath caught between a question and a moan.

He climbs over you, knees on the cushions, straddling your thighs. His hoodie’s still on, sleeves pushed up. His rings are warm from the walk home. He drags two fingers down your collarbone, slow, watching goosebumps bloom in his wake.

“You know I’ve been holding back, right?” “You know I watch how you squirm every time I call you good.”

Your breath stutters.

“So we’re gonna try something new tonight, angel.” “You don’t touch me unless I tell you to.” “You don’t cum unless I say so.” “You speak only when spoken to, and you take every fucking second of what I give you. Got it?”

You nod, frantic, heart pounding.

His hand moves to your hair and his grip tightens in it.

“Use your words.”

“Y-Yes. Got it.”

“Atta girl.”

He tugs your shorts down first. Not your top. Not your panties. He likes to tease. Leaves you half-dressed, on your back, thighs slightly open as he pushes your knees apart with one hand.

“Fuck, baby. Look at this mess.”

He hums. Brings his thumb between your legs and drags it slowly over the damp cotton. You whimper. His eyes flick up.

“You gonna cry already, sweetheart?”

And then he rips the panties to the side. No gentleness now. Just that soft tone and filthy mouth working in perfect contradiction.

He spits on your cunt.

Hot. Messy. His.

“You know what I wanna do to you?” he murmurs, dragging two fingers through the slick. “Wanna make you ride my thigh till you can’t see straight. Then bend you over and fuck you slow ‘til you cry for me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod. Helpless.

“Too fuckin’ pretty like this. Can’t say no to you when you beg.”

He tugs his hoodie off one-handed. You get a glimpse of his lean stomach, the way his chain hangs against his chest, the ridges of toned arms from hours of dancing.

And then he sinks back onto the couch, spreads his legs and points.

“Come sit, good girl.”

You hesitate for half a second—and he slaps the side of his thigh with a sharp smack.

“I said. Sit.”

You climb into his lap. He holds you in place, arms locked around your waist, his thigh pressing right there, and begins to rock you.

And the feeling? Oh, it's heaven. You're simply melting.

You’re already gasping before you’ve even started.

The heat of his thigh against your bare cunt—muscle flexed just enough to grind into that aching spot—makes your legs weak before they’ve even moved. Felix doesn’t rush you. He just watches. One arm around your waist, the other relaxed across the top of the couch like he has all the time in the world. And those eyes?

They ruin you. All heat and hunger, waiting for the show.

“Go on,” he whispers, lips brushing your temple. “Make a mess for me.”

You brace your palms on his shoulders, shaky, breath trembling. The first grind of your hips feels dangerous. Too much friction, too much slick, not enough rhythm—but fuck, it hits.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, voice dropping further. “Rub that needy little pussy on my leg. Just like that. C’mon.”

You gasp. Then whine.

Your hips start moving on instinct—small at first, trying to chase pressure without falling apart too fast. But Felix’s leg is solid. Flexed. Perfect. Every roll of your body sends your clit dragging against muscle, and you can feel the wetness soaking through both layers already.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.

You whimper, nails clutching at his hoodie sleeve. “Felix—”

“No.”

He grabs your chin and forces your eyes to meet his. “Not ‘Felix.’ Not when you’re like this.”

His lips hover right over your cheek, voice velvet and vicious in your ear.

“Try again, baby. What do you call the man ruining you?”

Your whole body stutters—hips still rocking, cunt dragging shamelessly over his thigh.

“D-Daddy—”

He moans, low and filthy, like the word alone strokes his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it. Knew you’d sound perfect saying it. Say it again while you ride me.”

You do. Over and over. Falling into it like a prayer. His name. His title. Your surrender. Your cunt is throbbing, twitching—your thighs slipping from the slick and heat of your own arousal. The more you chase it, the more you shake.

“You close?” he whispers, pressing his lips to the corner of your jaw. “You gonna cum just from my thigh like the good girl you are?”

You nod. Desperate. “Please, please—need it—need to—”

“Then fuckin’ cum for me.”

The moment you let go, it breaks you. You cry out—body seizing, vision spotting, hips still moving even as your muscles twitch through the overload. It’s too much. Not enough. You want to scream, moan, sob—and all that comes out is his name, slurred and needy.

“That’s it, angel. There she is.”

You collapse forward into his chest. Your legs refuse to work. Your pussy’s still pulsing and he’s holding you there, firm hands stroking over your spine like he cares—but his cock is hard beneath his sweats, and you feel it press against your stomach.

“One down,” he whispers against your temple, smiling like he hasn’t just destroyed you. “How many more can my good girl take?”

You try to answer—but you can’t. You’re dazed. Fucked out. Sweating and panting, still twitching from aftershocks.

And that’s when you feel him lift you.

Arms under your thighs. Carrying you across the room like you weigh nothing. You cling to him, head buried in his neck, still whimpering.

“Shh,” he soothes. “I got you, baby. Gonna lay you out. Gonna fuck you slow and deep ‘til all you remember is my name.”

When he enters the bedroom, Felix lays you down like you’re made of something expensive. Your back hits the sheets—warm, soft, rumpled—and he hovers over you with his palms planted on either side of your head. His hair has come loose from its tie. It falls into his face, golden and damp, framing the sharp line of his cheekbones and the flicker of obsession glowing in his eyes.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice a threadbare hush. “Fucked out already. But I haven’t even been inside yet.”

You try to respond—some tiny sound of need or please or Lix—but the words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between overstimulation and begging.

He smirks. And then he moves.

“Arms up, baby.”

He strips your tank top off first, dragging it over your head like he’s unwrapping silk. Your skin pebbles at the cold air, nipples tight, chest rising and falling with shallow little gasps—and fuck, does Felix stare. His eyes rake over you like he’s cataloguing the exact shape of your ruin.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, almost like he’s not saying it to you—just… to himself. “So fuckin’ perfect. All mine.”

His sweats are next, undoing them—slow, teasing—and then finally pulls them down along with his briefs, letting his cock spring free.

It’s hard. Already flushed, leaking. Beautiful. So him.

“Been thinkin’ about this all day,” he says, crawling over you again, voice deeper now. “Thinkin’ about how tight you’re gonna feel wrapped around me. Thinkin’ about how good you’re gonna take it.”

And then?

Then he turns you over.

“Face down, ass up baby.”

You shiver. But you listen. You shift onto your stomach, arms stretched up across the pillow, chest pressed into the sheets. Your ass is bare, slick, glistening under the light. You feel the mattress dip as Felix settles behind you, feel the heat of his body as he palms your thighs and spreads you wide.

“Look at this fuckin’ mess,” he growls, dragging two fingers through your folds, slow and heavy. “You’re dripping, angel. You need me that bad?”

You sob. Nod. “Please—need you—”

“I know.” He presses a kiss to the curve of your spine. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna fill you up real slow. Fuck you so deep you feel it tomorrow.”

He fists himself—just once—and then lines himself up.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers, thumb pressing into the small of your back. “And stay still. Let me in.”

The first push is agony. Sweet, stretching agony. His cock slides in slow—so slow you think you’ll break—inch by inch, until the fullness makes your eyes roll back and your fingers clutch the sheets.

“There she is,” he groans, voice cracking. “So fuckin’ tight. So wet. You’re squeezing me already.”

He stills when he bottoms out. Just holds you there—stuffed full, twitching around him, your thighs trembling from the pressure.

“You feel that, baby?” he whispers, leaning over you, voice melting into your ear. “That’s mine now.”

He doesn’t start slow.

There’s no easing you into it. No gentleness now that he’s buried to the hilt inside you. Just the stretch of him—thick, perfect, intentional—and the way his hands lock around your waist like he’s anchoring himself to the only thing keeping him sane.

He finally starts moving. Deep. Slow.

His hips drive forward in measured, devastating strokes—like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your insides. Each thrust rocks you forward into the sheets, your arms trembling from the force. You can feel every ridge of him, every twitch, every grind against that spot that makes you see stars.

You’re a mess. Whimpering. Gasping. Drooling on the pillow.

And Felix?

He won’t shut up.

“That’s it, pretty thing. Cry into the sheets. Let ‘em hear how good I fuck you.” “You feel full? You feel mine?” “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you sob. “Fuck—Felix—I’m yours, I’m yours—”

“Fuckin’ right you are.”

He leans over you—pressing your spine down, mouth right at your ear—and his voice goes low. That lethal octave. That ruinous, deep rasp that shakes your bones from the inside.

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” “Taking my cock so deep. Letting me fuck you stupid.” “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna cum so deep it drips out of you.”

Your eyes roll back. Your stomach coils. Your voice breaks on a scream, “I’m gonna—gonna cum—Felix—Daddy—!”

“Do it. Cum for me, baby. Let go. Show me who fuckin’ owns this pussy.”

And you do—you cum hard, body locking, thighs trembling uncontrollably as you clamp down around him, crying into the sheets, wrecked and shaking and so full you swear you can’t take another second.

But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down.

“Nah, sweetheart. We’re not done.”

His grip on your waist tightens. One hand slides up your spine and pushes—forcing your chest deeper into the mattress, arching your back until the angle makes your vision white out.

“One more,” he growls. “You can take it. Be good. Be so good for me and take every drop.”

You sob again—loud, broken—but your hips still push back. You want it. You need him to fuck you through it, to stretch your limits, to claim every inch of you like you asked for this.

And he does.

He fucks you until the sound of skin-on-skin is filthy and frantic, until the pressure builds again so fast you can’t catch your breath. You’re babbling now, incoherent—his name, god, daddy, please—over and over like a litany.

“You gonna give me one more?” he whispers, ragged. “Let me fuck you dumb, pretty girl. Just one more. C’mon. Make a mess on my cock.”

You break again.

Screaming. Crying. Shaking so hard your knees give out under you.

Your knees collapse.

You can’t hold yourself up. You’re shaking too hard—legs trembling, muscles locking from the force of your second orgasm. Tears have soaked into the sheets beneath your face. Your hands have long since given up. Your body is boneless, fucked out, ruined.

But he holds you.

Felix grunts low, adjusting his grip as you slump forward. One hand locks around your waist, the other slides beneath your chest, hauling you up against him.

Your back hits his chest—slick with sweat. His cock stays buried deep inside you. You whimper at the stretch, the burn, the rawness—but he coos softly in your ear, kisses your neck like it’s his salvation.

“That’s it, baby. I got you.”

He doesn’t stop moving.

His hips roll up into you—slow now, but just as deep—while his hand splay across your stomach, holding you flush against him like he never wants to let go. Your thighs are soaked, your pussy is twitching, and fuck, you can feel the mess between your legs.

“So full,” he whispers, lips dragging across your jaw. “So fuckin’ wet for me. All mine, yeah? Say it, baby. Say who owns this perfect fuckin’ body.”

You sob. “Y-You do, Felix—yours, I’m yours—”

“That’s my girl.”

His thrusts stutter—hips jerking erratically now, cock twitching inside you as he moans into your shoulder. His voice breaks—half-growl, half-worship.

“Gonna cum,” he rasps. “Gonna fill you up so deep, baby. Wanna fuck it into you. Wanna watch it leak down these thighs while you’re still twitching for me.”

Your walls flutter around him—tight, hot, soaked—and that’s all it takes.

He snaps.

“Fuckfuckfuck—oh, fuck—”

His moan rips through your ears as he buries himself one final time and cums hard—hot, thick pulses spilling deep inside you while he holds you pinned against his chest. You can feel it. The way he throbs, the way he doesn’t pull out, the way his body shakes around yours like he’s giving you everything he has left.

And through it all—he kisses you.

Everywhere.

Your temple. Your cheek. Your shoulder. The curve of your neck. Gentle little presses, over and over, like he’s grounding himself on your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes. “So fuckin’ perfect. My pretty baby. My good girl. Took it all so well.”

You’re crying again, but they’re not sobs now. They’re soft. Shaky. Your body can’t process anything but him. His weight. His voice. His praise laced with that worn-out sunshine that’s never left.

He holds you there. Doesn’t pull out. Just lets you sit in his lap, full and dripping, his cock still twitching gently inside as your breath slows and your limbs go lax.

He doesn’t move for a long time.

It’s quiet. Only your breathing, mingling. And the occasional kiss— his lips brushing the curve of your shoulder, his nose nudging into your temple, his voice whispering like a lullaby.

“So good for me, baby…” “Took me so well…” “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. Weakly. “Never.” you whisper.

And God, does that wreck him.

His arms tighten. He holds you closer like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His mouth presses to the top of your head, then your damp cheek, then your lips—soft, slow, tender.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

And then—finally, finally—he shifts. One hand strokes your back. The other gently cups behind your thigh.

“Okay, angel,” he says gently. “I’m gonna pull out now, alright?”

You nod against him, breath catching.

And he does.

Slowly. Carefully. The stretch stings a little—your pussy is puffy, throbbing, still fluttering around nothing—and when he slips free, you can feel the mess spill out of you. His cum leaks down your thighs, warm and slick, and Felix groans low in his throat.

“Shit, baby… look at that. I really did fill you up, huh?”

But it’s not dirty now. Not filthy. Not teasing.

It’s awe.

“Time to take care of my girl.”

His arms wrap around you as he lays down on the bed, holding you close, cuddling you. You’re still quiet. Not from discomfort—just overloaded. Floating. Felix is holding you like he always does after a long day—chest to chest, arms around your waist, nose tucked into your hair.

If it weren’t for the light ache between your legs and the twitch in your thighs, you could almost pretend none of it happened.

But oh, it happened.

You feel it in every nerve ending.

“You okay, my love?” he murmurs, lips ghosting across your forehead. “Everything feel alright?”

You nod, still dazed. “I think I left my soul in the couch cushions.”

He laughs—a real laugh. Bright. Golden. Felix. The soft boy you thought you knew.

Until tonight.

“You’re not mad at me, right?” he asks after a moment, quieter now.

You blink up at him.

Stare.

Then squint.

And whisper: “Sir.”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Felix. Sunshine. Angel boy. Literal human serotonin. You just—” You gesture vaguely to the air. “You ruined my guts.”

His mouth drops open. He chokes out a laugh, half-scandalized, half-proud.

“I did not!”

“You did too!” You shove his shoulder, weakly. “You throat-fucked me with praise and then made me ride your fucking thigh. I’m pretty sure my ancestors felt that orgasm.”

He’s red. Like ears-pink, nose-scrunched, dimples-deep red.

“I mean… I did say I was gonna fill you up,” he mumbles. “But I also kissed your forehead. So. Balance?”

You gape at him.

“Balance?! You said I was your good girl while you were filling me up.”

“Because you are!”

You collapse into the pillow, half-laughing, half-moaning. “Jesus fucking Christ, Felix.”

He wraps his arms around you even tighter. Nuzzles into your hair. His voice goes soft again, syrupy with affection.

“Hey. You really loved it?”

You pause. Look up at him again. There’s nothing teasing in his face now. Just that pure, open warmth—the boy who’s been falling in love with you since the day you EQ’d his vocals for the first time.

And you nod. Soft. Sincere.

“I didn’t just love it,” you whisper. “I think I need it again. Like… soon. Maybe with handcuffs next time?”

Felix short circuits. “I—you—what—okay—”

You smile into his chest. "I like this duality. How dare you not show it sooner."

He groans. Buries his face in your shoulder.

“God help me. I think I am creating a monster.”

But you just grin, ear to ear.

"Damn right you are."

#stray kids #skz x reader #skz smut #lee felix #felix x reader #filth friday #skz imagines #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader

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sleepy-harper · 9 months ago

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Haiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!! :3 can you make a deer regressor Rebecca and cg!Chris board c:??? Been thinkin about them again… Silliest little deer girl evah :D

green deer/little re0 rebecca chambers & re1 chris redfield moodboard 4 anon

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akitayellow · 25 days ago

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hello question, do you think someone could make one of these machines to make cookies? lots of them? how many. asking for a friend

oh absolutely!!!!!! ive seen a good few autocraft mechanisms that can make loaadds of items every few seconds, its just about how fast you can get the inputs to the machine (and if you want THOSE done automatically)

honestly it wouldnt be too hard to automate all parts of a cookie baking machine-

#const interact = [];#interact[0]= ‘anon’;

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maple-leifarts · 2 years ago

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yes just yes for the design -concerned anon

LETS GOOOOOO 🎉🎉🎉🎉

#also first concerned anon interaction on my main?? :0 #maple answers queries :0 #sbi apartment au #sleepy bois inc apartment au

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starlightkun · 2 years ago

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hi!!!!! i saw the trailer for pupsick and when it released i was scrolling thru the regular nct fics tags (nct x reader etc) and it wasn’t showing up so i thought it was delayed D: found ur account again though!!! and i’m planning on reading it later tonight hehe

this might not be smt u care abt at all but i think the reason why pupsick wasn’t showing up in the tags is bc only the first three (i think???) tags on a post actually show up when looking through the hashtags which i think it’s silly but might also explain why i couldn’t find the fic initially .. if u don’t really care abt tags and stuff u can ignore this sjdjskdhjd i just had thoughts that had been thought and wanted to just say it somewhere

ok bye and i cannot wait to read pupsick <3

i think it's either like the first 3 or 5 tags maybe? i keep hearing different numbers i cant keep up anymore it feels like 😭 and i do care abt tags! i want more ppl to find my fics but like also tumblr will hide ur posts for the dumbest reasons (links too sometimes, which like, i need to link for navigation reasons?? my masterlist, etc.)

and also i kind of feel so disconnected from how readers find fics now? like idk how yall find fics, like which tags you actually look in?? not to age(?) myself but back in my heyday of reading fic everything (reader insert or slash fic, which omg is also old fandom lingo i feel like) was called an "imagine" so u would always go look in the "xyz imagine" tag for ur fill but im starting to figure out that now we're not using that anymore so like 😭😭😭 i feel old

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orimuraa · 2 months ago

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• I'm burning hot - LHS ↳ ┊: hot - le sserafim

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆being under the same company as your idol crush has it’s perks, especially when it comes to variety shows ⨾

۶ৎ idol!heeseung x fem idol!reader┆fluff, crack┆slight age gap? (3 years), co-workers to ???┆reader is in le sserafim┆wc 1.1k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to my sweet 🫧 anon who requested this! i think it’s such a cute prompt and i hope i did okay ㅠㅠ feedback and reblogs are always appreciated >0<

part 2

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

rule number 1 of being an idol: don’t fall in love.

rule number 2 of being an idol: if you make eye contact with a male idol, you’re dating.

rule number 3 of being an idol: don’t even interact with a male idol or else you’re dating.

so when you were told by your manager that you were going to be going on a variety show with lee heeseung of enhypen, you knew you were absolutely done for.

heeseung was the one idols you would break all those rules for. he was the one that could single handily break your career with a single second of eye contact.

you weren't sure if it was immense luck or immense doom that you were paired with your idol crush of many years, but whatever it was, it made your stomach turn with different emotions.

“chaewon eonnieeee,” you whined. “i’m so dead…the netizens are gonna rip me apart if i even breathe too close to him.” you sulked, dramatically flopping onto the practice room floors.

“ynnie, just be yourself, okay? it'll go smoothly if you don't fumble! just…try to avoid any scandals…” chaewon mumbles the last part, resulting in a playful smack on her shoulder.

“hey! don’t scare her like that!” yunjin scolds, walking over to where you two were sitting.

“she’s gonna be fine. just keep the eye contact to a minimum and don’t go too close to him, got it?” yunjin says, listing the things on her fingers.

got it. so basically don’t even breathe around lee heeseung. that’ll go wonderfully.

you weren’t even sure what the variety show was and what was even going to happen on it. you’re pretty sure your manager was telling you about it but you probably weren’t listening.

all you knew was that you were insanely nervous and very unprepared. oh! and that it was school themed.

when you first walked into the classroom that was rented out, you were greeted very politely by the staff and the show hosts. the show hosts were very famous comedians that were also dressed in high-school uniforms, despite being in their 40's.

then, your eyes locked with the prettiest bambi eyes ever. well- there goes rule number 2.

there stood lee heeseung who was practically glowing with his fake glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. god, did he look so good.

“hello! i’m y/n of le sserafim. it’s very nice to meet you,” you greeted, hoping your voice wasn't too shaky.

you shook hands with heeseung and for a second, you felt your career flash before you eyes.

“hi! i’m heeseung of enhypen! no need to be so formal! i heard we’re gonna be partners for the show!” he smiled sweetly, chuckling at how formal you were being.

“ah ok! i’m actually not quite sure what this show is about…” you replied sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks.

“oh no worries! i’m sure they’re gonna explain everything before we start shooting,” he laughs lightly.

by the time you actually start filming, you’re already exhausted. you have to admit that you were having a ton of fun with the games and you have to say, you and heeseung make an amazing duo.

however, there was definitely a part of you that was holding back as you didn't want to make heeseung uncomfortable in any way. so far, you two had won the random dance challenge, shouting in silence, and limbo.

seeing heeseung laugh whole-heatedly made you smile, noticing the way he seemed less uptight like in the beginning.

you two were able to earn many coins so you could afford the more luxurious lunch options.

"hmm i say we get a tteokbokki, a ramyeon, and some galbi!" heeseung says, scrunching his eyebrows as he looks at the menu.

"i trust you and you're decisions," you nod, trying to hide you blushing cheeks. why did lee heeseung have to be so charming?!

you two sat next to each other for lunch as you were sharing the dishes you ordered, while the show still went on. the hosts were cracking jokes and also asking questions about your guys' idol lives.

at one point, one of the hosts pointed out how you and heeseung made a great pair in all of the games. the only games you two lost were pictionary (due to heeseung's horrendous artistic skills) and red light green light (due to your inability to stay still).

the comment made you blush for the 1015th time today and out of the corner of your eye, you saw heeseung's ears turn red as well. you prayed they would edit that out.

when filming came to an end, you stuck around just for a bit of behind-the-scenes filming, group photos, and a bit of filming for your vlog.

"heeseung! come here!" you called out to the taller man. "come say hi to the fearnots!"

"hello fearnots! don't worry, i have taken care of y/n just fine and we actually make a great time!" he says to the camera, leaning in to your side a bit.

but while he talks some more to the camera, all you can focus on is him. how close he is, how good his perfume smells, and how much more beautiful he is up close.

"right y/n?" heeseung's voice knocks you out of your daze and you quickly recover.

"yep!" you squeak, hoping it didn't seem too awkward.

you also managed to squeeze in a bit of challenge filming. your group recently made a comeback and enhypen was releasing a digital single very soon so it was perfect. you let heeseung decide if he wanted to do the 'come over' challenge, or the 'hot' challenge and clearly, he had an opinion.

"if we do the hot challenge, with you caption it 'heeseung's burning hot'?" he playfully smirks. you shove his shoulder lightly, laughing off your flustered-ness.

"fine," you huff, rolling your eyes at him.

you two quickly learned each other's choreo and were able to film the challenges very successfully (with minor casualties). the loose choreo was very enticing and it definitely did not help with your flustered state.

"so, am i burning hot?" he smirks again, taking a sip of water after finished the challenges. you feel the air get caught in your throat.

"no," you lie, holding back an equally annoying smirk. but before you can think anymore, heeseung leans in to whisper something into your ear:

"darling, we both know that's a lie."

his expression is unreadable but there's a faint glint of interest in his eyes. and before you know it, he's walking out the door with his manager, mouthing the words "call me" as you discover the piece of paper in your pocket.

oh, chaewon was so gonna kill you.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication, @melodiessvy, @soona-huh

#₊˚⊹♡𝖄ᥱȷі's 𝖂᥆rks #enhypen #engene #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #heesung enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung soft hours #lee heeseung soft hours #enhypen heeseung #kpop x reader

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like-ribbons-in-your-hair · 1 month ago

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how it feels to have a total of 0 anons or just 0 shit in my inbox or 0 moot interaction or literally just zero interaction with other people just likes and reblogs

#jiraiblr #jirai #jiraiblogging

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bernardsbendystraws · 6 months ago

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A WAY TO GROW YOUR ACCOUNT!!!

Throughout my entire time on Sturniolo Tumblr giving credit for inspiration has always been an issue. Copying and inspiration are NOT the same thing – if you copy + paste, that is just not right at all. However, inspiration is a good thing! For all parties!

Giving credit will boost your work. Although there is no guarantee that the original creator will interact, they’re a lot more likely too! It’s flattering to have people like your idea and interesting to see their different takes on the same thing.

Many people have ripped off ideas to the point where people aren’t even sure who the original creator is or who made it trend. It’s incredibly frustrating. Some people don’t have bad intentions, but others do. It’s hard to tell and people get tired. I’ve reached out plenty of times nicely. Many people can attest to this. Some have ended great and good. Others have ended with me wishing I didn’t write anything in the first place.

I’ve spoken up about this countless times. There has been no solution and I am beyond over it. Since I have a bigger account, I couldn’t prove that crediting someone would boost my account. Plenty of people said I had no evidence for the claim; “crediting will only help both parties.”

Taking matters into my own hands, I decided to do something to prove a point. This is not to create drama or anything of that sort, it is simply to educate.

I made a brand new fresh account. To start, I credited myself for inspo, writing things I knew how to write with a lot less effort, editing, etc. Not only that, I also credited others – some who didn’t even know it was me and ended up reblogging. I interacted with it like I would’ve with any other mutual – which felt extremely odd, but again, I wanted to prove a point.

Looking at stats, it is simple to sum up everything. Crediting will only help you. A lot. The first “snippet” I posted got 0 interaction until I reblogged it. Then – everything seemed to take off. Quickly. I created the account 6 days ago. Not even a week ago. This is all the data to backup my point:

– 950 followers

– 2 fics over 1k notes (the only 2 fics posted at that)

– Over 7,200 notes+ total

– Multiple anons and interactions in my inbox

The entire point of this was to prove a point, simply to educate and not be silenced because I didn’t have “facts.” Now I do. It is clear that crediting for inspo only helps both parties. Please keep this in mind when writing in the future!!!

#·˚ ༘ ʚ rose toy 𖧧 #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fandom #sturniolo fanfic #rose toy sturniolo triplets

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bunsnoroses · 10 months ago

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a new blog for @/bunsnoroses (now called @bunsnorosesarchive ) that got flagged an is probs about to close down :(

Hiiii, I'm Bun and this is my icky lil blog where I mostly post, share and reblog depraved thoughts 💭 and sometimes my needy body! mdni

this blog is a fantasy!! If you can’t differentiate between reality and fantasy pls don’t interact 🙏🏻

TW hard kinks- consent is a must and a given in my posts!

ꕤ ddlg

ꕤ 0 control

ꕤ impact play

ꕤ cnc

ꕤ somno

ꕤ dumbification

ꕤ praise and degradation

Links:

ꕤ my depraved thoughts

ꕤ my training

ꕤ bun at uni

ꕤ my asks

ꕤ me

ʚɞ If you praise and degrade me at the same time I'll simply *pass away* ʚɞ

ʚɞ my asks are open and I lovee reading your thoughts so feel free to share or ask anything, it might take some time to respond tho ʚɞ

*any mean, unnecessary criticism asks will not be answered* this is my safe space and I will do with it as I please

ʚ Meanies, racists, haters or anything along these lines are not welcome ɞ

anon list

🦁🐾, 🎀, 🐈‍⬛, 🌙, 👻 🐦‍🔥, 🅾️, 👹 ,

#dumb bunny #attention wh0r3 #daddy's good girl #daddy’s babygirl #daddy k!nk #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm community #cnc free use #corruption kink #bd/sm bunny #cnc k!nk #r@pe fantasy #bd/sm blog #submisive and breedable

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beifong-brainrot · 3 days ago

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Thoughts on TSR episode?

Oh wow this is just a hornet's nest waiting for me to hit it with a baseball bat type of question. But ok anon I'm gonna try to speak on this in a way that will get as little people mad at me as possible lol.

I enjoy it, but then, I think I enjoy it mostly because is centers around Katara and I can't say there has been a Katara centered episode that had floped in my eyes. And an episode of Katara and Zuko reconciling after what he put her through was a long time coming and it is very fun to watch them kick ass. I adore the themes of this episode, misinterpreted as they may be by the wider public. I do have some major critiques of the episode, and I will get to them, but I'll try to unload them as we go.

I think Katara's portrayal in the episode is great. The storyline straddles the fine line of portraying her anger as equally valid and self destructive, and I like that she isn't villanised for it. Yes, Aang and Sokka try to talk her out of it, but it is out of concern for her, rather than a vehement contempt of her actions. Her grief is well presented, and even when she snaps the memorable and objectively awful "You didn't love her like I did" to Sokka, it feels more like a child trying to explain the intensity of her grief, but not knowing how to express it with the right words.

Let's remember that Katara not only was the sibling to see her mother's dead body, directly interact with her mother's murderer, but she also probably felt a lot of guilt for not only indirectly being the cause of the raid, but also not being fast enough in getting Hakoda, who may have helped. She's dealing not only with grief, but with a nasty case of survivor's guilt that Sokka thankfully doesn't seem to have. And it's very natural that, being a child, Katara would misinterpret Sokka having healed from the grief better as him not loving their mom as much as she did.

I've talked about the obvious parallel between Katara using bloodbending in the Southern Raiders and Hama forcing the art upon her. Bloodbending, in the case of Katara and Hama, symbolises righteous anger and hurt that has festered into something much more vindictive.

I think the bloodbending scene in TSR doesn't get discussed enough other than "it was cool to see Katara bloodbend again" or "haha this is how Zuko discovered bloodbending exists". Which, valid points, but I think the weight of this scene is often set aside. Even though it's the only instance of bloodbending in atla aside from "the Puppetmaster". And it directly parallels Hama, as Katara directs her rightful anger at a man who was innocent in this situation.

Like, yes this man was a Fire Nation officer, but he is not Yon Rha, and may, for all we know, not have even paricipated in the raids. Yet he was still subjected to the agonising and terrifying ordeal of being bloodbent, over a case of mistaken identity and misplaced vengance.

But Katara still has reason to hurt him. He's a fire nation soldier, a member of the organisation that hurt her and her people. Yet once she realises he is not Yon Rha, she immediately releases him, and is seemingly startled and exhaused by what she has done.

And of course, the situation takes a toll on Katara. I may be mistaken, but the ship scene seems to be the only instance of Katara tearing up in TSR, which feels like a deliberate choice. She has tears in her eyes when boarding the ship, probably as she knows she is planning on bloodbending, and again right after bloodbending the commander. It draws back to how devastated she was after bloodbending for the first time.

[Bloodbending has aggresive generational trauma symbolism, in both atla and tlok]

Bloodbending, for Katara, makes her go to a very dark place, and draw on a legacy of pain and anger that Hama had forced upon her. No wonder it is daunting to her. I find it hard to imagine Katara isn't aware of how much she is leaning into Hama's legacy in TSR, which may be why she is tearing up after bloodbending the commander.

She knows she's losing herself, and going down a path she previously could never see herself following. But I think she feels the need to do this, not only for herself, but for her mother.

Katara: Now that I know he's out there ... now that I know we can find him, I feel like I have no choice. Aang: Katara, you do have a choice: forgiveness. Zuko: That's the same as doing nothing! Aang: No, it's not. It's easy to do nothing, but it's hard to forgive. Katara : It's not just hard, it's impossible.

She feels like she has no choice, and the only way to do right by her mother is to get vengance on Yon Rha. We know that Kya's death has been a core wound for Katara. We see how she's tried to keep her mother's legacy alive, to the point of her trying to replace her in many ways, despite her being vocally uncomfortable with being percieved as motherly.

This probably ties in to Katara's survivor guilt, as she strongly tries to honour her mother, who died for/because of her. And killing Yon Rha feels like it's something that has to be done to avenge Kya, in Katara's eyes. But it is also taking a clear toll on Katara's own mental wellbeing.

I don't like the idea that TSR's Katara is "the true Katara" because it feels like taking a character who is going through some intense shit and isolating that as their "true self". Zuko during his banishment was not his true self, nor was Aang during the Desert. Rather than be defined by our lowest moments, we are a sum of our parts, and while how we act under duress is a factor of who we are, it is not a defining feature.

In the end, I think this is up to personal philosophy, but I find it so shallow and harsh to believe that someone reveals their true self when they're clearly in pain and distress. It feels very callous. Katara is acting out of pain and grief, and I don't think it's fair to define a 14 year old over these actions. Her friend and brother being concerned for her was warranted, because they see that Katara is doing something that she may regret. They know that Katara values life, that she isn't a killer, that she doesn't believe people are defined by their grief and pain.

I think Katara's own words in "the Avatar State" episode fit here rather poignantly.

Katara : Do you remember when we were at the air temple and you found Monk Gyatso's skeleton? It must have been so horrible and traumatic for you. I saw you get so upset that you weren't even you anymore. I'm not saying the Avatar State doesn't have incredible and helpful power ... but you have to understand ... for the people who love you, watching you be in that much rage and pain is really scary.

And, of course, on a smaller scale, this rings true for Katara in TSR as well. Anger and grief are important for a healthy human to experience, but it is easy to lose oneself to them. And I think this is the thesis of TSR, which often gets misinterpreted.

The episode doesn't condemn Katara for wanting to track down Yon Rha, but it does clearly set up the warnings of what murdering him entails for Katara. Now, as much as Jet and Hama are complex in how they are presented as sympathetic antagonists, and there is a discussion to be had about villanising victims, they are both set up as parallels to Katara.

Katara empathises with them, and that is what allows them to manipulate her. We see both Jet and Hama late into their respective "moral declines", but it's not that hard to see how they got there. Jet was a freedom fighter, surely he's killed soldiers. And perhaps military couriers, perhaps medics, people affiliated with the FN army but not participating in the fight directly. And then there are citizens who may have cooperated with the army and supported it with rations, perhaps. All in the name of his righteous cause, up until he tried to blow up a town.

I have no doubt Hama began imprisoning people who "deserved it". Perhaps a FN army veteran who was proud of his first service, then perhaps a man who declared his disdain for the other nations, then, maybe a wife of a soldier who supported her husband's military career, maybe a teen who talked about joining the army once he was the right age.

Revenge is dangerous, because it doesn't always bring the closure we seek, and we are left to project those who harmed us onto people who have nothing to do with it.

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet. Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster.

But note that Jet was also fighting the "monsters" who harmed his village.

Jet: Katara, you would too if you just stopped to think. Think about what the Fire Nation did to your mother. We can't let them do that to anyone else ever again. Katara : This isn't the answer!

Let's be honest, Yon Rha is literal scum and I don't think anyone would be sad for him if Katara turned him into an icicle pincushion. The episode never tries to humanise him, and portrays him as pathetic and vile, as he deserves. But it's not about him. Aang and Sokka's worries lay with Katara and how killing a man out of rage and pain would affect her personally.

I think Aang specifically gets misinterpreted in this episode. I understand why he rubs people the wrong way, because of course we believe Katara deserves to face Yon Rha, that she deserves the closure this encounter would offer her.

Zuko: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice. Aang: I don't think so. I think it's about getting revenge. Katara: [Angrily.] Fine, maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves!

I actually adored this episode for Aang and Katara's relationship, because I adore how Aang straddles the line of supportive and rightfully concerned. What I think a lot of people forget is that Aang wasn't against Katara finding Yon Rha, but rather trying to gauge Katara's reasons for doing so and concerned about her motives.

Because "what do you think this will accomplish?" is a valid question to ask here. Aang knows firsthand that releasing one's anger is seldom the healing balm for the soul. Katara has helped him process the unbelievable pain and rage he went through as the last airbender, and he is returning the favour, while also trying to keep her needs in mind. He acknowledges that Katara needs to face Yon Rha, but he worries for her if she chooses vengance.

Katara: Don't try to stop us. Aang: I wasn't planning to. This is a journey you need to take. You need to face this man. [Katara situates herself on Appa's head.] But when you do, please don't choose revenge. Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.

I've seen the argument that this is just Aang "saving face" because Katara was going to go anyway, but I find that argument hollow. Like, yeah, I guess if you want to believe that. But Aang hasn't had problems disagreeing with Katara before, and I feel like Appa would take Aang's side if push came to shove.

I find it silly that some people can't comprehend the idea of Aang supporting Katara's need to confront Yon Rha, while not supporting the murderous urges. Because just because Katara didn't kill Yon Rha, doesn't mean the encounter didn't have value.

I think the biggest one is Katara demystifying Yon Rha, and, to an extent Fire Nation soldiers to herself.

Over the course of the episode, Katara frequently refers to Yon Rha as "the monster" rather than as a man. She's, unsurprisingly, built him up in her head as a manifestation of her helplessness to protect those she loves, the power and evil the Fire Nation army has over her.

Katara: That was him. That was the monster.

This has the side effect that when Zuko attacks her village, in the very first few episodes, she's probably going right back to that scared little girl. There are even some incredibly strong parallels between these two raids. Both looking for the last member of a demographic. Kya or Aang bargain themselves in exchange for the village's safety, while also comforting Katara. Hell, there's even some strong visual similarities between Zuko's scar and the unique helmets the Southern Raiders wear, further allowing Katara to tie Zuko to the monster of her childhood.

Confronting Yon Rha allowed her to truly look at "the monster" and realise that he is just a pathetic man.

Katara : [Sorrowfully.] I always wondered what kind of person could do such a thing, but now that I see you, I think I understand. There's just nothing inside you, nothing at all. You're pathetic and sad and empty.

She is no longer helpless against him, and those like him.

Katara : Oh, don't you worry about my strength. I have plenty. I'm not the helpless little girl I was when they came.

This also allows her to untangle Zuko from Yon Rha, and see that Zuko is trying and has grown as a person.

Zuko in TSR is interesting to me. I think people tend to brush of his own internal goings on in the episode. Zuko is acting very much like Zuko here, which is equally annoying and endearing. I have no doubt he was genuine in his attempts to smooth things over with Katara, and that he truly thought he was helping by egging her on to kill Yon Rha. On the surface, it is a vaguely questionable move to try and dig up a girl's trauma behind her back. But I do believe Zuko was genuinely not aware of how manipulative these actions could come off.

Zuko still has a lot of toxic and dangerous mindsets from his Fire Nation upbringing to unlearn. And it manifests in percieving violence and vengance as the only correct way, as well as mocking Aang's more pacifistic advice. Like genuinely it's not surprising he has a little bit of lingering disdain for air nomad values but it is also incredibly jarring to hear these words from him lol.

If I can present one of my silliest pet peeves of the episode, its when Zuko rescues Katara from those falling rocks and then lays on top of her for just a bit too long. Like thanks for the assist sir now stop laying on top of the lass. And then he goes "ok I'll take that as a thank you ☝️🤓" when she tells him to get off. Also waiting in front of her tent all night like sir please

There are some similarities between Katara's confrontation with Yon Rha and Zuko's confrontation with Ozai, and I believe they were intentional. As both these characters confront men who have cast a shadow over their childhoods, and have, directly or indirectly caused them to lose their mothers. And they both no longer fear them now it's Ozai and Yon Rha's turn to listen to them.

Zuko: That's another thing. I'm not taking orders from you anymore. Ozai : [Angrily.] You will obey me, or this defiant breath will be your last! Zuko: [Pulls out his swords.] Think again. I am going to speak my mind, and you are going to listen.

Of course, there are some even more direct parallels in Katara and Yon Rha compared to the Aang and Ozai fight but Im focusing on Katara and Zuko here.

I think it would also be foolish to set aside the idea that Zuko is very much affected by Ozai taunting him about his own mother's dissapearance during the Day of Black Sun. Zuko was unable to get closure for his mother's dissapearance, so he is extra invested in Katara's mother's death, and finding her killer.

It is very fun to see Zuko and Katara working together. They're a deadly duo and they bounce off each other really well. It always warms my heart to see them reconcile at the end, as it was a long time coming. I treat it as a landmark on both their budding friendship, and their respective personal healing journeys.

I think my biggest criticism of the episode is how much Sokka had been sidelined in it. On one hand, I understand it. He isn't suffering from the survivors guilt Katara is dealing with and therefore has no need to confront Yon Rha.

On the other hand having Zuko use him as essentially an exposition dump and then for the narrative to cut him out right after he relived his trauma hurts my soul. At the very least, I think it would've been nice to see his concern for Katara more focused on.

I am, however, impressed that seemingly moments after he told Zuko about one of the worst days of his life, he was hooking up with his gf like I don't think I'd even be able to preform after that and yet Sokka did apparently. Which tbh is very 16 year old boy of him.

TSR is one of those episodes that has been slightly soured in my mind by the way the fandom tends to treat it. It has become the centre of some very nasty shipping discourse, when that was never the focus of the episode. But I do love the focus on Katara and the way she handles her grief and trauma.

I know it's easy to say TSR simply regurgitates the tried and true killing=bad a lot of kid shows have, but I think it does so with some very interesting nuance. Instead of using objective morality, it focuses more on how killing someone, even with a good reason, could affect you personally. And I commend it for that, even if it isn't always graceful abouf it.

I don't think I've touched on every subject of TSR, because i originally meant this reply to be a quick overview which spiraled vastly out of control. This post is already getting way too long, so I'll end it now, because I think I touched on at least most of what I wanted to.

That post was pretty heavy, so here's a picture of my fat son Zorro under a blanket that kinda makes him look like Goku when he turns blond or smth idk I've never watched DB

#i like that the “murdering people may have a negative impact on your mental state” message is so hard to grasp by some fans #i know tsr is supposed to be the zutara episode but I do genuinely think its very good for kataang too #the southern raiders #katara #aang #zuko #sokka #yon rha #anti zutara #<not really but consider this a warding spell #pro katara #pro aang #avatar #atla #avatar: the last airbender #the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #hama

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