#pls dont copy this format i worked so hard on this one ;-;

[fear-is-truth]

idk if requests are still open i hope i’m here in time!!!

do you think the evans have a type, if so what is it?

good luck with university!!!! ^__^

❛ THE EVANS & THEIR "TYPES" ❜

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ james patrick march ‧ kai anderson ‧ austin sommers ‧ ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 ⠀ᰋ

𝓐/𝒏 : i didn’t include physical attributes… so this is more like a psychological profile of their romantic references!

꣑ৎ ‎ :‎ masterlist﹒꒱

⟢ 𝓣𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝓛𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate is most drawn to individuals who exist slightly outside the social current. introverted, often mislabeled as “the misfit”, “the hopeless romantic,” or the “manic pixie dream girl”.

he admires people who are private about their suffering, but are deeply perceptive when it appears in someone else. sensitive soul <3

morbidity appeals to him; though he prefers it genuine rather than stylised/ edgy on purpose. dark humour, fatalistic (or even nihilistic) outlooks, offhand comments about death. he finds solace in those who have made peace with alienation.

tate is intensely touch-starved. he also tends toward enmeshment, and becomes very distressed by perceived distance or emotional ambiguity. (remember the hurt on his face when he tells violet she’s ‘changed’. )

though he doesn’t seek a caregiver consciously, tate is hypersensitive to subtle maternal gestures and leans heavily on anyone who offers emotional containment. #mommyissues

conflict-avoidant to a fault. arguments (even minor ones), raised voices, direct criticism, or visible anger will cause him to spiral entirely. his ideal partner communicates passively or through suggestion—someone who soothes & forgives in advance.

the deeper bond tends to form with whose household is steeped in neglect or control. these dynamics mirror his own and allow for a level of unspoken mutual understanding.

⟢ 𝓚𝐈𝐓 𝓦𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit is a family-oriented man, and his romantic instincts are shaped by practicality.

he’s drawn to women who are unapologetically themselves—flirtation and self-promotion don’t really register with him. kit values competence and care, especially when it’s habitual.

i think what matters most to him is moral clarity. a consistent sense of what’s right, and a willingness to live by it.

he avoids drama in every form. emotionally volatile partners, people who escalate unnecessarily, or expect emotional availability on demand… he can’t manage that.

not good with passive-aggression. he appreciates clarity, even if it’s blunt. actually, he prefers the latter.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝓚𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝓢𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

despite his environment, kyle doesn’t fit the mold of the archetypal frat boy. he participates in the rituals (e.g. parties, team loyalty, surface-level camaraderie) but emotionally, he’s kind of out of sync with the culture /pos. the traits that draw him in are not status-based or sexually performative, but emotional depth.

emotional intelligence appeals to him. a genuine capacity for perspective-taking. he takes notices on how someone treats people without seeking social reward: how they speak to waitstaff, whether they listen to strangers without interrupting. kindness registers to him as real when it isn’t selective.

empathy matters—but only when it’s sincere. he’s quick to pick up on disingenuous behaviour.

socially, he’s wary of cruelty disguised as humour. he avoids girls who mock others to gain approval. it embarrasses him, and it diminishes his interest.

he’s intellectually open, but not academic. what interests him is curiosity, not expertise. a girl who’s an avid reader, asks questions, talks social awareness matters to him.

he’s drawn to girls who are a little introverted, maybe bookish. if she’s artistic, even better—especially if it comes with some awkwardness around her own talent. he’s quick to admire what others are modest about.

romantically, kyle needs emotional reciprocity. he gives a lot—attention, affection, physical closeness—and what keeps him invested is a partner who matches that energy.

⟢ 𝓙𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝓟𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝓜𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

he seeks out a partner who embodies control. he’s most intrigued by those who treat their own emotions as private property.

he loses interest quickly in those who are eager to please. worship bores him; as easy surrender offers no challenge.

sexually, his dominance is complicated by a masochistic streak ! he’s most aroused when his partner withholds, or even better, humiliates him with elegance. his interactions with the countess illustrate this split clearly. in fact, her contempt only serves to excites him. her dominance doesn’t emasculate—it heightens his obsession for her. in other words, pain from someone exquisite is inherently sexy.

artifice doesn’t count as a flaw in his book; it’s a virtue. he associates restraint with superiority.

he’s not looking for emotional reciprocity. what he wants is mutual fixation and obsession.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝓚𝐀𝐈 𝓐𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

his attraction to women is deeply conflicted. ideologically, he positions himself above them and frames women as emotionally erratic and biologically inferior. but emotionally, he attaches to women who are complex, articulate, and honestly difficult to manage. this paradox defines most of his romantic behaviour. he wants control, but control over the inert bores him. he needs the illusion of struggle.

his misogyny is quite behavioural. he disrespects women as a class but places immense value on individual exceptions—women who have proven their absolute loyalty. his ideal partner is someone who’s articulate and politically engaged, emotionally resilient, clever enough to contribute to the cult, but never eclipses his brilliance.

kai is drawn to strong-willed women, particularly those with a history of trauma that hasn’t flattened them. he values resistance, but only when it precedes submission. women who’ve survived ruin and still function provide him with two essential rewards: fuel his saviour complex and validate his self-image as a transformative force.

his attraction is laced with power anxiety. he wants intelligence in his partner, provided it’s passive. perception, not direction. he admires confidence, but punishes disobedience. the ideal partner maintains a delicate balance: she challenges him just enough to make things interesting, but yields so that his dominance is never in question.

his ideal partner is someone in ideological flux. (e.g. former idealists, lapsed feminists, disillusioned activists) people who once believed in something larger, only to lose it. that absence becomes an opening. he positions himself as a replacement for that lost belief system.

what appeals to him is the aftermath: women who’ve survived ruin and are still functional, still sharp. trauma that didn’t flatten them but stripped away their naïveté.

he values resistance, but only when it eventually bends. strong will is attractive to him insofar as it can be redirected. the perfect partner is someone difficult to win over—to make her eventual submission feel meaningful.

as we all know, kai intellectualises dominance. he couches it in rhetoric, in order to avoid confronting its emotional core: a profound, (often repressed) desire for being ‘mothered’. domesticity is deeply erotic to him when it’s offered without emasculation.

most of his relationships become power experiments—escalations of psychological stress followed by intensely intimate reconciliation. he’s a deeply toxic lover.

being the tension-filled mf that he is, kai needs ideological pushback, emotional distance, sexual withholding—but only until he wins. and he always intends to win.

⟢ 𝓐𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝓢𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.

austin is attracted to people who mirror parts of himself back at him. he seeks provocation, brilliance and theatrical friction. he’s most alive around people who can match his freak.

intellect is a prerequisite, but only when paired with flair. he’s deeply charmed by verbal agility.

he’s drawn to ambition. not just careerism, though. he respects people who want to be exceptional, and resents those who orbit greatness without cultivating their own. his ideal partner isn’t simply a lover but a rival, a muse, a co-conspirator. someone with questionable morals, impeccable taste, and a flexible sense of shame.

aesthetically, he likes androgynous beauty.

 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑-𝐈𝐒-𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 2025 — all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my content. ꕀ

[maknaesdancersrappers]

on the first day of kinkmas, my lover did to me:

[ a n g r y s e x ]

>TAEYONG

>warning/s: face fucking, unprotected sex

a/n: when i was at the sleepover, my friend told me about how he and the girl he’s seeing gets off at hating on a person and we were laughing so hard because it’s technically hate/angry sex right?? Just not towards each other lol anD ALSO THIS TEACHER WAS BASED OFF A REAL PROF I HAD BACK IN COLLEGE THAT COST ME A “Failure due to absences” MARK ON MY RECORDS i was that chicken towards him and i feel like most of this was just me shitting on him huhuhu if soMEONE FROM MY SCHOOL RECOGNIZES WHO THIS IS IM GONNA-- pls dont spread it around if u kno who this prof is huhuhuhuhu im probably //already// on his hitlist

-

Everyone hated at least one teacher they had come across in school; you met yours during Junior year in college. Mr. Chon was your Writing for Film elective professor and you’ve heard all the stories about how strict and uptight he was. You had blockmates who had him as a prof last semester and they always talked about how every meeting with him was living hell. You weren’t happy at the news, especially since he wasn’t even the prof you signed up for in the beginning.

There was only one class for the elective and you were able to get into the list before the final enrollment date, but because more people signed up for it and the registrar is absolute shit; you, along with other people, have been transferred to a new class--with the strictest, terror prof known in school.

You tried to appeal to the registrar for you to move back, but they put the blame on the Department of Comm for the class list and in the end, you weren’t allowed to move.

The first meeting with Mr. Chon was terrifying. Everyone in the room felt like they couldn’t breathe; so quiet that you could hear a pin drop and the air conditioning system sounded deafening. This elective was comprised mostly of Comm students and there were only a few of you that weren’t; one of which was your seatmate, Lee Taeyong, a dance major.

Before Mr. Chon entered the room, the two of you promised to help each other since your free time matched one another’s and neither of you wanted to do this alone. His friends ditched him last minute when he enrolled, opting for another elective he didn’t have the prerequisite of.

The first couple of classes with Mr. Chon was bearable. He made you guys watch highly rated films from his favorite directors during class and series like ‘Lost’ and ‘Designated Survivor’ for weekend homework. When it came to the first assignment, which was to pitch film ideas, it was all easy going aside from the one slip up majority of the class, with you included, of not printing it out in the specific format he made clear on the first day.

Strike one.

But when the time came to start working on the final project, as it is a full script for a film, the stress of it all came piling up. Mr. Chon gave out assignments to create character sheets, a lesson he never gave on, and expected you to submit a properly written one from research alone.

But before you can even create character sheets, he had to choose and approve a logline from the ones you’ve submitted beforehand. You tried to be nice and formal in your emails to him, always ending the message with a “Thank you and God bless.”

His replies sounded harsh despite the lack of words that would support that description. He had reprimanded you for submitting an edited version of the logline you presented in class, saying that no matter how good it was, if it was not submitted properly the day he had expected to receive it on a printed paper, he had expected you to revise all off them.

Strike two.

So you apologized for your mistake and made new loglines; and luckily he had chosen one that suited his taste. When it came to creating a character sheet, you were reprimanded for the format and given an example on how to make a proper one. However, you didn’t quite understand the file he had sent and took your chance into making minor changes to your previous submission, taking into account the little information you’ve understood from the text.

Strike three.

He reprimanded you (AGAIN), through email, for the ‘pathetic’ edit you’ve made. Ordering you to personally consult him after class or through scheduled one-on-one meetings in the Comm office where two other assistants can be witnesses to the whole ordeal.

This was indeed disadvantageous to you because while your classmates had the freedom to consult him 24/7 through email, you had to wait for class--one you had once a week--before you can even officially start anything, and that’s IF he approves anything.

At this point, you gave up; on him, the class, and your grade. It might be too late to officially drop out of class, but you can use up all your allowed absences until he’s failed you for it.

You were upset at your decision but it was the best sounding option you had, even Taeyong agreed to it because he couldn’t even get his loglines approved. You agreed to accompany him when he had his one-on-one consultation for his third revision of loglines and nearly half an hour later, he practically stormed out of the office while violently whispering to you that he was joining your little ‘boycott’ of the subject after Mr. Chon told him to revise everything again in the most passive aggressive manner.

Both of you had three allowed absences before your final grades would be considered FA (Failure due to Absences) and the two of you spent the supposed class hours together instead to ease each other of the anxiety of it all.

“I hate him.” You snarled, throwing your head back to gulp the can of beer Taeyong had offered you. “It wasn’t even fair to begin with!”

It was the last allowed absence you had for class. The thought of it made you cry, thinking how it would tarnish your records and disappoint your parents if they find out.

Taeyong wipes your tear with his thumb. You had oddly gotten close with Taeyong because of the elective; working together to do your assignments, consulting one another for suggestions, and especially sharing mutual hate for the class. It was maybe a month and a half already, but it’s as if you and Taeyong had been friends since freshman year.

“We both enrolled and paid on time for the original class and prof, why were we the ones moved?” You sniffed, silently thanking Taeyong for inviting you to his dorm so you could vent out your feelings to someone who understands the situation.

“I know. But the system sucks, what can a couple of students do against them?” He sighs, rubbing his eyes in frustration; probably wanting to cry as well with how his voice shook. He was his organization’s vice president and he had plans to run as president the next year, but with an FA grade, he doubts he can even make the minimum CQPA to run as treasurer. “Ah, hyung would be so disappointed if I don’t take his spot as org president.”

You glance at the wall clock as you take another gulp of beer, “T-there’s like 30 minutes before class actually starts… should we just go?”

Taeyong snaps his attention towards you, “Are you crazy? And what will we say for ditching class for two meetings? We don’t have anything to present to him. He might as well give us an ‘F’ as fat as him if we show up empty handed.”

You hated how he was right; Mr. Chon would probably eat you alive in front of class for doing so. “Yeah, w-we shouldn’t. We need to commit to this stupid idea of ours.”

A phone begins to ring and Taeyong stands up to answer the call outside.

You let your gaze wander around the room, noting how clean and organized it was. You vaguely remember him telling you how he always cleaned up after his roommate, but he took no offence to it, rather enjoying the act of tidying up as a stress reliever or time killer.

As you finish off your beer, you receive a notification for a new email from no other than Mr. Chon, reminding you of the consequences if you don’t show up to class and the way he had worded it so condescendingly made your blood boil, and on top of that had it CC’d to both assistants AND the chairperson of the department, you just felt utter rage from embarrassment.

You put your phone down before you could even reply with the most improper and vulgar message you can think of. At the same time, you hear the front door slam and Taeyong is stalking into the room; face red and nostrils flared.

Before you could even ask, he’s screaming in frustration: “Our president found out that I’m purposefully failing a class and is demanding me to attend it! He even went as far as threatening to take me off my position as vice president!”

“Then make him go through the class and let’s see how he deals with Mr. Chon, who, by the way, just emailed us. He’s reminding us of the consequences and you know what’s worse? He had copies of the email sent to both assistants and the chairperson of the department! Like, was that even necessary?”

“What the hell?” He checks his phone immediately, scowling when he finds the email. “What is his problem?! Does he get off of our misery or something? I’ve never dealt with this kind of prof before! He doesn’t even fucking teach!”

You don’t really know Taeyong long enough to think formulate this opinion, but you’ve never seen him so angry and honestly, he looked hot.

Maybe he caught how you looked at him, but one second he’s ready to spit out more hate, instead he slams his lips over yours, grabbing the sides of your face with his hands after dropping his phone to the floor.

It caught you off guard; making you stumble back a few steps at how he met your lips, your hands flying to grasp the cloth of his shirt around his waist. He steadies you against him, slipping his fingers over your nape as his tongue licks your bottom lip.

When you part your lips to make way for him, he wastes no time slipping the wet muscle into your mouth and exploring the warm cavern. You both moan at the contact of your tongues, tasting each other of the beers and mints you previously had.

“Fuck,” He gasps in between kisses, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You look so hot when you’re angry.” You guide his hand over your chest.

“Yeah?” Taeyong squeezes your breast, moving his lips onto your jaw. He slides his thigh between your legs and rubs it over your crotch, hurriedly.

Stifling a moan, you stretch your neck out to give him more access and thread your fingers through his hair as you grind yourself on him.

He brings his mouth over yours again after slipping his hands under your shirt to get a better feel of your boobs, pressing his thumbs over your nipples until they were pert to his touch. He helps you out of your blouse, using the moment your lips are separated to unhook your bra. While he shrugs out of his own shirt, you fall to your knees and begin to to unzip his pants.

Once you were able to push his pants down and free his cock out of his briefs, you engulf most of his length as best as you can, tightening a grip on the few centimeters with one hand.

Taeyong cusses above you, moaning low as he combs your head back.

A ringtone erupts from below you and you fish out his phone out of his pants, handing it to him before resuming your previous act. “Answer it.”

He swallows hard as he obeys your request, not even giving the caller ID a glance before picking it up. “Hello?”

You watch him through your lashes, continuing to lick the underside of his cock.

“Wha-Calm down! I’ve made up mind! I’m not going to class and it’s way too late now.” He shouts into his phone, catching you by surprise.

You meant to pull away but his hand pushes you back down his cock, forcing the tip all the way to the back of your throat. You thank your ability to control your gag reflex and let yourself get used to the feeling; hollowing out your cheeks as he thrusts into your mouth.

“Shit, li-listen, I’m n-not going to beg Mr. Chon to let me back in class! I--what? So what if I’m with a girl-- I didn’t-- Prez, you’re being ridiculous!” He growls, pushing you away and kicking his pants completely off in anger. “You can’t just kick me off the team! I’m--”

You rise up from the floor, wiping the spit that dribbled down your chin. Warily, you watched Taeyong huff at his phone, ready to throw it to the ground but glances at you.

In a beat, he’s turning you around and pinning you against the back of an armchair; making quick work of your jeans and pushing them down your ankles with his foot once he got it past your knees.

“Did he threaten to kick you off the team?” You quietly ask, breathing rapidly as Taeyong cards his fingers through your pussy.

“He already has. He’s so abusive with his power! He was only elected president because he has connections to sponsors.” He grumbles behind you, “He also keeps reusing past choreo for new pieces! No one has the guts to call him out for it. I even made the fucking mistake of trying to befriend him because now I just get pushed around by him!”

You reach behind you to guide his cock into your pussy, “Let it out, Taeyong. If you’re really off the team, you’re not his lacke--”

You’re cut-off with a gasp as Taeyong surges forward, penetrating into you.

“I’m not his lackey!” He hisses, clawing your hips for support as he thrusts his hips repeatedly. “I’m the fucking vice president of the dance team!”

“What kind of president pushes around the VP like that then? Are you sure you were elected as vice president and not his lackey?”

“Stop calling me that!” He yells, snapping his hips harder into yours and eliciting a high shriek from you.

You bend over the armchair, grabbing at the pillows to anchor yourself against the force Taeyong was going at. You can feel your walls already accommodating his girth as they pushed in and out of you. Your lower abdomen tightens as your legs start to quiver in excitement; your orgasm is coming faster than you anticipated.

“T-Tae, I’m going to-- I’m really, really close--”

He grunts, moving you to the couch while still pounding into you. He only pulls you off of his dick to spin you around so you would be facing him and sits down, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers around your thighs to have you sit on his lap.

“You know,” He starts, guiding his cock back into your awaiting entrance, “That goddamn class is the reason why our president is so harsh on me. I was either going to practices late or leaving early to work on our stupid assignments.”

“Ugh, the root of all our problems is because of that goddamn class! It’s still unfair how we were transferred to Mr. Chon’s class.” You adjusted your legs so you could carry your weight as you begin to ride him.

“Don’t even mention that asshole! He keeps bragging about how he wrote scripts for indie films and how he was mentored by great, award-winning scriptwriters, but he never bothered actually teaching us shit.” He punctuates his complaint with a hard thrust upwards.

You moan out loud, dragging the sound until your head is situated on the crook of his neck. “Do that again.”

He obeys--multiple times; each with an insult towards your professor.

“Aah, I’m comi--!” Taeyong pulls you in for a kiss, drowning out your cries of pleasure as he holds your hips down for him to drive his cock into with a more calculated force.

You come with your toes curled and head thrown back in a silent cry while Taeyong thumbs furious circles over your clit and chases after his own high.

“In me, in me.” You chant, still shaking from your release.

Taeyong moans, “Shit, really?”

After confirming with a nod, he shoots his load into you; sensing immense warmth overcome your belly as you help him ride it out. When you take his cock out and proceed to sit back down on his lap, you can already feel it drip out of you.

“I can’t believe I got off for being so pissed.” Taeyong breathes, covering his eyes with his palm. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Not at all.” You clamber off of him, dropping your weight to the space beside him. “I liked it and I guess… sort of needed it, too.”

He turns his head towards you and snorts, “We deserved it after that hell of an elective. We’ll be weakshits to those who stayed, but whatever, yeah?”

“I value my sanity, thank you.” You laugh and he joins you. “The only thing good that came out of this was you.”

Taeyong’s lips twitched into a smile, “Yeah. We wouldn’t have met if not for that damned class. If we didn’t help each other out with Chon’s assignments…”

“We would have died way earlier.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, but, uhm, no, not just that… what I mean is that I wouldn’t have gotten to know you and,”

You blink at him, “And?”

“I can’t do this with my dick out, [Y/N]. Hold on.”

“Your dick is fine--it’s amazing, in fact.” You grab his shoulders when he tried to get up, “Taeyong, I like you.”

Taeyong bursts out laughing, “We’re really confessing in the nude?”

“Think of it this way: if you feel the same way, it’s so much easier to get down to business.” You cock a brow at him and he shrugs with puckered lips.

“Then, I like you, too.” He says, twisting his torso to face you and dragging his thumb across your lower lip, “So, round two?”

Snorting, you cup his face and pull him in for a kiss, “How about we exclude shitty profs and abusive friends?”

Taeyong hoists you up in his arms, carrying you so that either of your legs were secured over his hips. He starts to walk away from the couch, grinning at you as you squealed in surprise at his action, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

-

a/n: this feels so rushed because of my internet situation ;A;