#so i have to open it in another app to crop it then open it in a third app to save it as a png

[skzimagines]

Summary::: In which Minho and reader are overly obsessed with one another, but neither of them have a clue… yet.

Warnings::: Suggestive?? Frat party, drinking... I think that's about it.

:)

(I might make a part 2 idk yet. Tell me what you guys think xoxo )

Minho

~

Minho watched her, as she sat at a table with her friends, a few feet from the table he sat at with his. He hasn’t noticed, but he hasn’t taken his eyes from her since they’ve reached the spot about 15 minutes ago.

The way the light spring breeze pushes her hair from her face, letting the sunshine brightly against her skin. Causing a perfect glow to radiate off of it.

"Minho!" Changbin says, startling him from his thoughts, causing him to jerk at his voice. Minho lets out a soft "hmm?" In response, still not taking his off of her. "Listen, lover boy. Why don't you go over there and actually talk to her." Changbin suggests. "Yeah, right." Minho replies. "Why are you so scared?" Han asks. "I'm not scared, I'm just way out of her league." Minho states. Chan lets out a light "pfft" before a chuckle leaves his lips. "We all know you two would be the "it couple" on campus, if you'd actually make a move." He teases.

Minho rolls his eyes in defeat as they change the subject to something else. He takes a quick look at her before reaching for his phone and opening the Instagram app. He quickly types in her name before pressing on her profile. '1 new post' He opens it. It's a new selfie she must have just taken, considering she's in the same outfit and with the same people in the photo. With all of their faces in the frame, the only one he focuses on is hers. He takes a screenshot, before going over to his photos and cropping it only to her and saving it.

Minho lets out a sigh, looking through all of the photo's he has saved of her, knowing that if she knew what he has been doing, she would probably file a restraining order against him.

Y/N

I knew it was crazy, following his every move. But I just couldn't get enough of him, no matter how many pictures, how many stares or how many times I have rushed to the places he's at, just to sit as close as I possibly could to be near him without making it look obvious.

Which is what I'm doing now. I knew there were at least 5 other tables on campus that we could have sit at. But I knew him, and his friends sat at the table closest to the entry doors, near the only tree that makes any shade. So I choose to sit at the table only 10 yards away from them.

"What are you doing after this?" My friend Cam asks me. "I think I'm just going to go to the library after this, I have studying to do." I state. "Again? Do you do anything else?" My other friend Rachelle asks. "Why don't you come to the party tonight? I heard Minho's going" My OTHER friend Ash says, wiggling her eyebrows at me. A small blush forms on my cheeks. "I don't know, I don't even know what I would wear." I say, looking down at my ripped jeans and college t-shirt. "OH don't worry, I'll help you. Hell.. I'll have Minho crawling on his knees to you as soon as you walk through the door." Cam teases. I let out a chuckle. "Yeah, right." I say. They all know about my crush on Minho... they just don't know the extent to it.

"Fine... I'll go." I agree. They all cheer in unison. Causing the boys to look in our direction. What I failed to mention though, is Changbin and Cam have been "Friends that just cuddle together." At least that's what they tell everyone, for a little over a year now. So, Minho and I's friend groups sometimes get together. "Why do you have to be so loud?" Changbin asks Cam from his table. "Why do you have to care so much?" She asks him, throwing fire back at him. "Because I would prefer not to lose my hearing..." He jokes. "Move to a different table then! You know, you guys could be gentlemen and let us ladies sit in the shade." She exclaims. "Oh, so now I'm not a gentleman?" He asks in annoyance. "The fact you're sitting there, and we're here dying in the sun, says you're not." She says. "Thats not what you were saying last night." He finishes. Causing an eruption of laugher to descend from their table. And I wasn't about to lie, but I couldn't help but find his comment funny, before letting out a small chuckle. Cam lightly elbows me and tells me to shut up. Knowing Changbin has won this round. We were all used to their tiny arguments, and we have all told them that they should make what they have together exclusive. But they both claim that doing that would just make things complicated, and they like the way they have things going now.

~

Minho

He catches himself doing it again, looking through her instagram and checking her story. Waiting to see if she’s going to the party. The guys are all getting ready. Minho looks up at the left corner of his phone screen, reading the time. ‘7:36.’ Only 20 minutes or so until the party starts. He’s about to give up on her coming, until his phone sends him a notification. ‘1 new post.’ His heart skips a beat at the sight. He clicks on it and it sends him to her story. It’s a video of her getting ready while the girls are in the background singing to the music on their speaker as she laughs at them. He takes a screenshot when her face lines up with the camera, showing her beautiful smile. He quickly goes to his photos, looking at the screenshot and taking in her smile.

“Minho, you coming?” Chan says, causing him to jump, yet again. Minho locks his phone, shoving it in his pocket before following Chan out the door.

Y/N

There’s only 3 minutes left until the party officially starts. But Ash is friends with the guy who’s throwing it, and wanted to be here early. There’s at least a hundred people here by now, and not one of them is him. I’ve been looking at the door for what feels like hours, but really has only been thirty minutes. “Why don’t you stop watching the door and come have some fun?” Cam asks, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the door. “Let’s go get a drink!” She shouts over the music. We make our way through sweating, drunk people dancing in the living room. I keep my head down, watching my feet as I walk, trying not to trip. As we make our way through the door, I bump into someone, causing them to slam into the door frame. I quickly look up and throw out a huge sorry. My eyes reach their face… it’s him. My heart skips a beat before pounding inside my chest intensely. Our eyes meet and they stay there, locked to each other as if they’ve been glued into this position, that is until Cam pulls me away. Our eyes stay locked until I’m on the back porch with Cam and Chan yells his name. ‘Oh god.. he probably hates me.’ I think to myself before Cam hands me a drink.

Minho

I watch her as Cam drags her out to the porch to the mini bar outback, until Chan calls my name. “Did you talk to her?” He asks over the music. I shake my head no. “Come on man! That was a perfect opportunity!” He says. He hands me a drink before continuing his conversation with a girl he’s already set his eyes on for the night.

It has been about an hour since the party has started, and at this point, no one plans on going home any time soon. I’m sat on the couch, next to Jisung and Felix, who also already found dates for the night. Multiple girls have come up and sat next to me, asking to dance or have a drink with them. I always kindly deny their offer, not being able to take my thoughts off of her. The way our eyes connected, and wouldn’t leave one another’s. I might be delusional, but my brain keeps telling me there was something there, maybe she felt it too.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts when I spot her walking through the house, over to the table where the punch bowl is. I watch as she stands by the bowl with Ash, the way her skirt has rid up her thigh just a tiny bit, enough to give me enough view for my brain to wander. The way her chest has the slightest dampness on it, from being surrounded by so many people on such a hot night. The way she’s thrown her hair to the side, revealing the side of her neck. She’s perfect. Everything about her. My brain tells me to go talk to her, just get up and do it. But as soon as I stand from the couch to make my way over, I see a guy make his way toward her. My heart sinks on the spot. He walks up behind her with a drink in his hand, but before he taps her on the shoulder she turns around to walk away, running right into him. His drinks spills all over the front of her shirt, dripping down her legs. I watch as he nervously throws out apologies, while bending down to pick up the cup. ‘Idiot.. couldn’t grab her a napkin.’ I think to myself. I watch as she grabs a hand full of napkins from the table, trying to dab off the drink from her shirt, to which doesn’t work. ‘Now’s your shot Minho.. go!’ My brain tells me. My feet move before I realize what I’m doing. I make my way over to the table, making my way directly between the two of them and grab more napkins, handing them over to her. She holds out her hand to take the napkins and I notice her hand shaking. She gives me a small smile before letting out a small “thank you.” ‘She’s so into you.’ My head says again. I tell myself to shut up in my head. “Y..you’re welcome.” I spit out. I watch as she continues to dab at her shirt. “I umm.. I might have a uhh.. extra shirt in my car… if you need it?” I ask, awkwardly. More awkward than I thought it would come out. If I could I’d slap myself right now. Shaking the thought out of my head as she replies. “Oh… um, sure. I can always just call my roommate and see if she could bring me one, before I steal your clothes.” She says with a chuckle. I give her a smile and a nod. I watch as she reaches to the pocket of her skirt and pulls nothing out. She throws her head back with a groan. “Everything okay?” I ask, and clear my throat. Cursing myself for sounding so awkward. “I forgot I left my phone with cam.. and I’m pretty sure she’s with Changbin, and you and I both know what they’re doing and I have no other way to call for a ride or even call my roommate.” She says, I can tell how stressed she is by the look on her face. She still blurts out her worries before I cut her off. “Hey.. it’s alright. You can use my phone.” I explain. “We’ll go outside so you can call your room mate.” We head outside after she tells me thank you and that she owes me, to which I tell her not to worry about it.

Y/N

My nerves were through the roof at this point. Specially now being alone outside with Minho. We’re stood at the edge of the tree line as Minho pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thank you again.” I tell him with a small smile. I can’t help my hands from shaking as I take his phone from his hand. I tap his screen, taking notice in the three cats on his lock screen. “Cute.” I say with a giggle. I notice his cheeks turning pink before I swipe up to unlock his phone.

My heart stops at the next picture.

It’s me… from my story. I tap the screen, thinking he might have just been watching my story. But when the picture disappears into an entire folder of screen shots of me, my heart speeds up to the point it feels like it might break through my chest.

“Minho…” I whisper, not being able to find my voice. He looks over at me with a smile, before he sees the look on my face and his eyes make their way to his phone. He sees the album of photos on his screen, he takes a step forward, ripping the phone from my hands. “Shit! Y/n.. I..” he tries to form a sentence, but can’t seem to do so.

“I’m so sorry.” He lets out. Before fast walking back up to the house. Leaving me alone. My heart flutters, my mind races. ‘He likes me… he actually likes me.’ I think to myself. I don’t even have time to process that he may think I hate him, due to the fact that my body has exploded into complete numbness and excitement. The fact I was completely soaked and my crush had just ran away from me, didn’t even bother my brain at the moment.

Minho

I quickly make my way inside, finding Chan. “Hey…hey what’s wrong?” He asks, as I try to explain to him what’s happened in the most frantic way possible. “Wait… so you have an entire album of this girl on your phone, and she saw it?” He asks, after I’m able to explain everything. I nod my head, looking into his eyes for any suggestion he has. “Minho… what the fuck..” He sighs, throwing his head back.

Tears begin to well up in my eyes, I quickly close them, pushing them back in. ‘Don’t you cry... Don’t cry.’ I tell myself in my head. “Did she say anything?” He asks. I shake my head no. “Minho... I’ve got nothing... I mean... you’ve stalked the girl for over a year… Maybe you’ll get lucky and find out she feels the same?” He says more as a question, instead of with encouragement. I let out an aggravated sigh. "I'm gonna go home." I state with defeat. "Minho, don't leave. I'm sure she's had a few drinks, she won't even remember it tomorrow." He states, with more encouragement this time. But I knew better, she wasn't drunk. She only had a few drinks. I know, because I had been watching her all night... like a fricking creep. "Come on, lets go upstairs! They're playing beer pong!" He grabs my arm, exactly like Cam did to y/n when she accidently ran into me.

~

Y/N

That's it. After standing by the tree line outside by myself like an idiot for over thirty minutes, trying to come up with a solution to this... I finally worked up the encouragement to come clean to Minho.

I make my way back inside, finding Ash next to the table I had just gotten my brand-new shirt destroyed at. "Ash!" I yell over the music. "What the hell happened to you?" She asks, pointing out my drenched shirt. "A story for a different time... have you seen Minho?" I ask in a rush. "Ohhhhh are you finally going to confess to him?" She teases. "Actually... yes, yes I am!" I say. She gives me a questioning look. "Oh... shit... um, I think I saw him go upstairs with Chan." She says, grabbing a shot off of the table. "Give me this." I say, grabbing the drink from her hand and quickly throwing it back. "You go get him tiger." She laughs, as I walk away.

I make my way upstairs, searching through the rooms for him, until I come across the balcony upstairs. I see him standing next to the guys, playing beer pong.

Minho

"Incoming, twelve o'clock." Han whispers to me. I look up and see y/n making her way through the people by the balcony doors. My heart sinks at the sight of her. I quickly get behind Han, trying to hide myself from her view. "What are you doing?" He questions. "Just stay there." I say.

I watch as she makes her way over to our side of the table, I think I'm off the hook when one of her classmates stops her to say hi. But she quickly shoo's them away before making her way to us. We make eye contact as she does. Once she gets close enough to hear over the music she stops beside Han and I. "Can we talk?" She asks. The guy's all let out 'ooohh's' and cheer as if we are still in middle school. My heart has fallen out of my chest for the thousandth time tonight.

I don't answer, I just follow her as she walks over to the chairs that are lined up perfectly along the balcony railing. She takes a seat on one of the sun tanning chairs, and I sit on the one across from her. She gives me a soft look before standing up and sitting next to me. My palms start to sweat, and my body goes numb. I brace myself for her to tell me to leave her alone, for her to tell me to delete everything off of my phone or else... but what I didn't expect was for her to grab my chin and make me face her, before slamming her lips on to mine.

It takes me a few seconds to realize what was happening, before my lips welded into hers perfectly. Without thinking my hands wrapped around her back, pulling her closer to me. Her lips taste like alcohol and cherry Chapstick. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek as the kiss deepens. I hear the guys cheering and clapping in the background but all I can focus on is the way her lips feel against mine. I've waiting for so long for this moment. I've thought about it, dreamed about it... imagined doing it so many times. And here she was doing it, it didn't feel real.

"I think you and I have a lot to catch up on... But right now, I just seriously need you." She says after pulling away. I feel myself harden in my jeans as she says the words. "My car is out front." I whisper, before pulling her into my lap and bringing her mouth to mine again.

______________________________________________________

[hiskillingjar]

Please plspls write sexed up abusive lesbians law x strade 🤞🤞

sorry lesbians, sorry dykes, this is a post for fucked up transfems and quasi-chasers now. sorry :(

4000+ words, cw for slurs, they are the worst grindr hookup in the world and i'm obsessed with themmmmm (this may have a part 2 if the people don't execute me)

also crossposted on ao3 give me attentionnnnnuh

"hey cutie, having a good night?"

Lawrence almost flinched after hearing the foreign notification ‘blllip’ on their phone. 

It was late, they had just gotten home from work and they were sifting through their saved videos (car crashes, open-faced surgery, execution porn and the like) to get to sleep, their body heavy on the mattress, their head heavier with drugged intoxication from a short smoking circle at the warehouse before they left.

They blinked sleepy grey (dead) eyes as they opened the app with a slide of their thumb, the orange-and-black interface unfamiliar, they used it so little.

Right. They downloaded this to buy weed from the new guy at work, didn’t they? 

Did they even have a profile set up? Apparently so, if someone nearby had found them.

They let out a short sigh through their nose, moving onto their back under the heavy, weighted blankets as they typed out a reply to ‘strade 36 verse’.

‘Verse’. What did that even mean?

"Hi."

Lawrence barely had time to rub their eyes before the orange bubble was typing again. 

"hi!"

An instant reply. ‘Strade 36 verse’ must have been online then.

They sat up with another sigh and their lips pursed in a thoughtful pout, wondering if they should respond further, and what to say if they did. 

They didn’t really know the etiquette of most social media, after all. The most exposure they’d had to it was a Tumblr account that was quickly taken down when they posted an especially gory work-in-progress photo of a new sculpture (for “violating community guidelines’ they said when they’d asked), and they’d left it at that, so this was new to them. 

It wasn't like they’d been on something as casual as a dating app before, so they had no prior experience or point of reference on how these kinds of interactions generally played out.

So, in place of another message, they decided to wait for ‘Strade 36 verse’ to reply again, to send the dreaded ‘double text’ or lose interest in their flaky response, before they did anything on their own.

They wouldn’t have to wait long for that, though.

"nice pics, you’re very, very cute." He praised, sending through a winking-face emoji and a blonde angel emoji, referencing the badly taken, but well-cropped mirror selfies on their profile, just so the weed guy knew who they were when they messaged. "are you down for anything tonight?"

Lawrence frowned, idly worrying their bottom lip between their crooked teeth as they pushed a hand into their greasy hair. They’d shower before work tomorrow. Or not.

They weren't entirely sure what ‘down for anything’ meant and weren't sure if they necessarily wanted to know either.

"Thank you.” They typed, well-trained to be polite to compliments. “Down for anything like what, exactly?"

"lol, you're adorable"

"like hooking up? lol"

Lawrence nearly dropped their phone at that.

Their face burned a hot red as they sat upright quickly, pushing aside their weighted blankets and ruminating in silence for several long moments on how to respond to Strade’s outright forwardness.

Was everyone on this app like this?

"I don't know you.” They wrote with another deep frown. “I only really use this app to buy weed. What do you want from me?"

"haha that's hilarious!" Strade wrote back quickly with a series of laughing emojis, which just made Lawrence frown even more. What did he find so funny? "cute pics for a burner account tho. what's that for?~"

They felt their face burning hotter and hotter as they stared at Strade's response, dumbfounded at his capacity to play along with such unwilling prey, before setting the phone down in their lap and pressing the heels of both hands to their eyes, too tired and (frankly) too high to make sense of what this guy was trying to do to them.

‘...cute pics...?’

They took a breath and picked up their phone again, trying to respond as normally as they could without cussing the guy out.

"What do you mean cute? It's just my face."

"it’s a cute face," He sent with a virtual wink.

They took another short moment, trying to collect themself, long, trembling fingers hovering over the keyboard on their phone, before they typed out another response. 

"I don't know about cute...but thanks, I think."

"you're so welcome~"

There was a pause as Strade typed another string of words, punctuated by an orange bubble and animated ellipses.

"if you're not here to hook up, maybe we could just exchange pics hm?"

"Pictures of...what exactly?"

"i'll show you mine if you show me yours," He wrote, punctuated by an eggplant emoji, a peach emoji and…a water spray emoji.

Lawrence didn’t need to be a genius in social media lingo to know exactly what that meant.

They tried to swallow the growing lump in their throat before reluctantly replying.

"What makes you think I'd send you a picture like that? I don't even know what you look like."

"i have a profile pic sweetheart," He wrote with another winking emoji, making Lawrence flush that they hadn’t even taken the time to look at Strade’s profile before they started talking to him. "but fair point! wanna make sure i’m not a catfish, huh?"

'Sweetheart...'

The nickname sent a little chill down Lawrence’s spine, but…not in a wholly unpleasant way.

It might have even been kind of nice to be called that, even if it was from a stranger on a dating app of all places.

There were a few moments of ‘silence’ before their phone ‘blllipped’ with a notification that Strade had sent them a picture, which they quickly opened. 

He looked like...well, he looked like a totally normal guy in his thirties, relaxing on a couch as if he’d just gotten home from work after a hard day. Tan skin, dark stubble, a handsome smile, everything people liked in a man. He was shirtless, showing off a soft chest and the beginnings of a slightly softer stomach, but that was probably the nature of the app.

"You're...very good-looking. Nice muscles." Lawrence typed honestly, a little hesitantly, staring at the picture for a prolonged moment before swapping back to the chat.

"thanks cutie," He wrote with a beating heart emoji, making Lawrence’s own heart tighten in their chest. "how are you looking right now?"

They idly chewed the inside of their cheek and looked down at themself. 

They weren’t anything special and never considered themself to be, wearing a pair of tattered pyjama pants and a loose-fitting top printed with the warehouse’s logo. 

That probably wasn’t the vibe for this interaction, was it?

"I mean, not good like you. I'm wearing pyjamas right now."

"maybe i'll decide what looks good, hm?"

"send me something."

They felt their face flush hotter when the second message popped up, bringing the edge of their phone to their mouth with a shuddering little sigh that fogged up the cracked glass.

This was getting pretty embarrassing, but, at the same time, it was...kind of exciting.

They’d never done anything like this before, certainly not with a stranger, and…Strade had such an authoritative vibe about him without even being in the room.

They felt almost compelled to obey him, even if there was no side effect to not.

Lawrence shifted over the side of the bed and reluctantly lifted the phone for a selfie, reaching up with their other hand to cover their mouth and most of their jaw, keeping the focus on their messy hair, their sleepy eyes, their slender neck, their collar bone, the low collar of their shirt…things that they guessed Strade might like in a conversation partner.

Once they had taken the picture, they sent it over quickly before they could think too long and change their mind.

Strade responded almost immediately.

"awwww~" He wrote, with a heart eyes emoji and another angel emoji. "very cute!"

Oh God, they really weren’t used to being called cute this much.

Their heart was racing as they read the short string of messages, their pale cheeks flushing and their dead eyes fluttering a little as their thighs pressed together tightly.

"You...really think so?"

"i know so~" He complimented again. "you’re such a good girl for listening to me too <3"

'Good girl-!?'

Lawrence's heart was beating even faster now, just from that one little compliment, and they found themself sinking back against the bed and staring at the popcorn, mould-dotted ceiling, feeling all the heat in their body rush right down to their cock.

It seemed kind of...demeaning to be called a 'good girl' in this scenario, but at the same time, it felt...so amazing.

They just hoped that Strade wasn’t getting the wrong idea.

“Thank you…but I’m not a girl though.” They typed when their brain started working again, resting their phone on their chest, their legs trembling and bopping up and down, nervously.

"oh no? apologies for assuming but you do have trans stuff in your bio lol"

"you look pretty enough to be a girl. figuring stuff out?"

The instinct to cringe subsided quickly when they clicked on their profile, noticing the absence of the gender marker that Strade had (‘M’), and their pronouns (‘they/them, any/all’) listed along with their location, the only information they had provided the app, barring their picture.

"That was an accident...I didn't know what it was asking me." They typed out, explaining their mix-up.

‘Pretty enough to be a girl...’ 

They suddenly found themself feeling…warm all over as those words repeated in their head, feeling the sincerity behind them, the authenticity behind them. 

Maybe they weren’t a girl, at least, not a girl they had ever been close to before, but there was the…well, the fact that Strade had assumed their gender incorrectly several times now, and they had done nothing to correct him. 

"happy accidents, eh?" Strade replied quickly with another laughing emoji, though this one felt more fond and affectionate than the others had been. "do you like being a good girl, law?"

They swallowed tightly and managed to type out a response, their hands trembling with excitement.

"Yeah…I mean, yeah I think I do."

"thought so." Another virtual wink. This guy used a lot of emojis. "can i see something else now, angel?" He wrote, like no part of that conversation happened, and even though it was phrased like a question, Lawrence had that good sense that it was not to be taken as one.

They felt their face burning hotter than ever as they typed out a response.

"What do you want me to show you…?”

"show me your body.” 

“do you have a mirror so i can see all of you?"

Lawrence had to stop and close their eyes, knees tightly pressed together as they tried to collect themself and slow the pounding of their racing heart.

They’d never felt like this before. It felt good.

It felt good. 

Why weren’t they used to feeling good?

They took in a deep breath, trying to calm themself down, before they got to their feet and walked over to their bathroom, hesitantly taking a full-body (or, well, as close to full-body as they could manage) picture in the bathroom cabinet mirror, using the phone to cover their face and focus on their body.

They looked so…boring in the reflection, wearing that old, baggy top and those loose-fitting pants. 

Strade can’t really be that interested in them, can he?

"aw, you're so little. like you wouldn't be able to fight me off if i pinned you down <3"

Those immediate words set butterflies fluttering around in their stomach.

They were definitely not tiny by any metric, standing at almost six foot and easily taller than most of the guys in the warehouse, but the idea of being...pinned down by a stranger of all people, was making their brain short circuit.

And fine, they weren’t sure if Strade meant it in an affectionate way or…a creepy way, talking about their body like it was a piece of meat and he was an animal feeding on them, but Lawrence couldn’t think of a reason to be scared of the obvious red flags coming out of their conversation.

They swallowed past the ever-growing lump in their throat as they paced back to their bed, sitting down and trying their best to keep their responses coherent as they typed out another anxious reply.

"Oh yeah..? Think so?"

"i know so..."

God, he was quick.

"mind pulling those pants down?"

They chewed the inside of their cheek again, hesitating for maybe a moment before they began to slowly pull their pyjama bottoms down their skinny hips, exposing their boxer briefs and the bulge of their cock. 

They felt so exposed, like someone could just walk in and see them right now, and yet...

They took another picture and sent it to Strade without a word, feeling the flush spread across their face as they did so.

"those look pretty tight, baby," He wrote after a pause. "like that cute girlcock is desperate for something its not gonna get. too cute <3"

What the fuck, girlcock-?!

Every word of the message made them shiver more and more, making the aching feeling in their chest that much more intense and tight, so tight it was almost painful. 

God, they couldn’t even begin to describe how this fucking stranger was making them feel. 

They were starting to feel desperate, like he said they were, their girlcock stirring and pressing even tighter against the taut fabric of their briefs, denying them anything close to relief.

They swallowed again, their tongue poking out to wet their dry lips as they typed a needy response.

"Please…just keep talking to me like that…”

"you're such a good girl," Strade continued to praise with another beating heart emoji. "spread your legs, make those panties nice and tight for me so i can see your girlcock press up there…"

They had to close their eyes momentarily and take in a deep, shaky breath to calm themself before they even attempted a response.

It was almost hard to type with how worked up they were, how much their fucking girlcock was stirring, how much their hands were shaking. They felt so submissive and helpless, like they wouldn’t even be able to think without Strade telling them to. 

They just wanted to do whatever he told them to do.

Their legs parted as far as they could (while still framed nicely in the camera) and they jutted their hips slightly, making the thick bulge of their cock the focus of the picture. Light blonde hair covered their tummy and thighs, and they almost felt self-conscious about it, for the first time in their life.

A girl shouldn’t have that there…at least, not a good girl.

"fuck, you're killing me," He wrote with that angel emoji again. "you little tease. what i wouldn't give to have you here now."

Lawrence closed their eyes with a soft moan as they held the pose, trying to imagine what it would be like if he was here instead of just ordering them around over the phone.

They were still trembling but they couldn’t help but smile coyly to themself as they thought out another response.

"What would you do to me if I was there right now?"

"you really want to know, sweetheart?"

They swallowed hard, their grey eyes wide and unnervingly alive, and replied, almost without a thought.

"Yes. Tell me please…I want to know."

…

…

…

"i wouldn't let anyone else even get the chance to look at you, let alone touch you, before i’m through with you, lawrence"

"i'd take you down in my basement and make you scream. hurt you. cut you. fuck you even if you fought me back. ruin that cute little body and torture your girlcock until you begged me to stop."

"and i wouldn't stop <3 even if you screamed and cried and behaved like suuuuch a good girl for me, angel <3"

…

…

…

"You’d do that to me…?"

…

…

…

"yeah. i like ruining pretty things." He wrote. "and you're the prettiest thing i've seen in weeks."

Lawrence could feel themself almost trembling as they stared at their phone, their hands shaking. 

They managed to type out a response, each letter in their reply feeling like a tremendous amount of effort when their fingers were shaking like jelly, just holding onto the phone.

"You really think I’m…pretty…?"

Their heart was pounding as they waited for a reply, waited for those tell-tale orange dots to move again, their once-dead eyes wide and alive and ready for more as their head spun behind them. 

It was like they were experiencing an entirely new high, one more dangerous and more pleasurable than any drug could give them.

They could see themself getting quickly addicted to it, and knew that this addiction was sure to kill them faster than any other vice would.

“haha you're kind of a freak law," Strade seemed to tease when his reply finally popped up, though it was lacking the emojis that typically gave his teasing nature away. "i like that a lot. pretty girls are never usually as filthy as you~"

Their head canted slightly as they read the message, wetting their lips again as they reached down and idly palmed their cock, feeling the hard flesh between their long fingers and wishing that Strade was the one doing the touching instead.

Freak. Filth. Words growing on them like mould grew on spoiled food. 

They were gradually getting infected by whatever disease Strade must have had to enjoy this, and they couldn’t have been happier

They flopped back heavily on the bed with a shaky exhale, that same feeling of twisted pride they got when he called them a “good girl” washing over them.

They managed to respond with one hand occupied (still squeezing their rotten cock that was enjoying every moment of this), their fingers still trembling.

"Yeah, I’m kind of a freak I guess…”

A pretty freak…a pretty girl…

Their cock pulsed hotter.

"yeah.”

“even the most poorly-adjusted tranny has the self-respect not to put up with all of this. what's the matter, law, you don't have any of that?"

They whimpered softly and bit their lip hard (so hard, they could practically taste blood), before rolling onto their side and bringing their knees up to their heaving chest as their cock twitched incessantly between their trembling legs, their slack body shivering all over as they squeezed their thighs tightly together.

Fuck, this was so awful. So, so fucking awful.

Then why was their head pounding, their chest heaving, their cock throbbing harder and harder (and harder and harder), the worse it got?

They swallowed hard, the lump in their throat almost painful to gulp past, as they read the message again, and despite themself, they reached down and started tugging on their cock as they typed, their heart continuing to race at an impossible pace from the mix of excitement and dread at feeling so vulnerable and exposed to this man.

"Why would I want self-respect if it means I can’t talk to you…?”

"good answer <3"

They couldn’t help but smile upon reading the new text, cradling the phone to their shuddering chest with one hand, as the other tightened the hold on their cock, the veins in their wrist pulsating as it jerked up and down their length. 

God, they were just completely hooked on this fucking stranger, addicted to his praise, his threats, his dirty talk (if it could even be called that).

They lay there for a moment, just jerking themself off with wet gasps and shifting skin on skin, trying to even think of what to do next. 

Their mind was so fuzzy and filled with thoughts of Strade, Strade, Strade that they could hardly concentrate, even without the initial fuzz the weed had given them.

It was a perfect sensation.

"what are you doing now, law?"

“I’m…touching myself.”

“show me.”

Like everything else with Strade, it was phrased like a question but Lawrence knew that they didn’t have the luxury of disagreeing with him.

Like they even wanted that luxury to begin with.

They obediently moved backwards, up their bed, lying flat on their back (belly up, like a prey animal offering itself to a rightful predator) and parting their trembling thighs again, wrenching their briefs all the down their legs and taking an awkward picture of their cock in hand, the flushed head and firm length framed by the thin, milky white pillars of their scarred thighs.

They were just glad that this app didn’t have access to their storage and that any pictures exchanged in the chat wouldn’t be saved.

That would have been incredibly fucking embarrassing. 

"haha wtf you're fucking huge," Strade quickly wrote back in response, making fun of them, though, again, the message was lacking his usual emojis (as had many of the previous messages, actually). "talk about wasted potential, eh, law?"

“What do you mean, wasted potential…”

“it means when i fuck you,” When, not if, when, NOT IF. “i'm not letting you top for a single day of the rest of your wretched, little life”

They licked their lips hungrily, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Is…is that a threat…or a promise…?”

"both <3"

God.

GOD. 

They felt like they were going insane.

They just wanted more and more of his words, wanted to take everything this man was saying to them and amplify it, make it worse, make it despicable, diabolical, disgusting, more, more, more-

“God, I hope so…” They typed, the jerking of their wrist faster as heat coiled up, hot and tight, in their belly. “You make me feel like I’m losing my mind…”

"won't need a mind for what i'm planning for you, sweetheart"

“Fuck…” They stammered softly to themself, words falling past their parted lips in a helpless whimper, as they squeezed their cock harder, a thick bead of pre-cum drooling over their bony knuckles. They didn’t touch themself that often, all of their saved videos were no longer able to scratch the itch of their deadened arousal, but now, they were feeling it, so close, so desperate-

“i want you to stop touching yourself now, law”

Their hand stilled instantly, their pale brows knitting together as another typing bubble popped up.

“you don’t work weekends, do you?”

They swallowed hard, typing out a reply while anticipating the next message.

“No, not usually…why?”

“you know the braying mule in town? just next to that new whole foods?” Donkey emoji, beer glass emoji, wilting leaf emoji.

Lawrence took a moment to think about the spot Strade was describing. 

It wasn’t too far from the warehouse, now that they were thinking about it, in a slightly sketchier place in town that was facing a wave of gentrification (hence the Whole Foods that they, unfortunately, did frequent for tea ingredients and discount granola).

“Yeah…?”

“are you gonna meet me there next saturday?”

Once again, phrased like a question but Lawrence knew there was no option to say no.

Like they would have said no.

“I guess I am.”

“good girl.” Angel emoji, beating heart emoji. “and are you going to give yourself anyyyy relief before then?”

He was teasing again, and the praise and indirect order was enough to send another pulse of heat to their cock, making it that much more painful and unsatisfying when they let go of it and lay back on the bed.

“I…guess I’m not.”

“she’s smart for a poorly-adjusted faggot, isn’t she?”

God, he was just so demeaning, and they were absolutely obsessed with it.

That warm, fluttery feeling in the pit of their stomach was back, and it felt even stronger than before. 

They almost had to resist the urge to bite their bottom lip and start jerking off again…and they could only muster the shakiest of responses.

“Yeah…she is.”

“such a good girl, law.” He wrote, and Lawrence could practically see the shit-eating grin on his handsome face. “i’m looking forward to meeting you <3”

“Me too…”

[usedpidemo]

Thinking about you (Choi Yena)

——————

Thank you @capslocked for reading and input <3

——————

> How have you been doing? I miss u ㅠㅠ

> I hope you’re taking care of yourself and eating well ㅠㅠ

> I can’t wait for you to hear the comeback!

> Let’s meet each other soon

> I hope you’re thinking of me too

—————

She was absolutely right.

You missed her. The old her. Clear flashes of her energetic, glowing face persisted, but so did those unfathomable, lewd expressions.

You never looked at Yena the same way you did before. She was an entirely different person after the day you met.

Not a single night passes by without you restlessly thinking about the fanmeet. You got way more than your money’s worth, even if it punched a hole so deep in your pocket that only recently began to heal from. It was both the best and the worst night of your life. Almost six months have passed, yet it hasn’t sunk fully in your head that this bright, cutesy idol moonlights as an eager cockslut to her most dedicated supporters.  

That isn’t to say you’ve never stopped supporting her. To the dismay of your neighbors, her music plays over a hundred times a day inside your apartment, any of her social media posts is an automatic like, and you don’t open up YouTube without watching at least one video of her, be it a performance or her other content. It’s an obsession bordering on lunacy; it might actually be lunacy.

Your credit card may as well be linked with Yena, even though she’s nothing but an idol to you. In her eyes, you’re just a mere fan. Since that fateful day, you didn’t spend a single coin on any of her merch—not even when she had her first comeback—but you’ve always kept that Universe membership active. That notification from the app is your version of the morning newspaper. Your daily routine grinds to a complete halt whenever you hear that sound. Your brain hardwired itself to instinctively grab the phone, dash and flick through the screen, as if your life depended on it.

On the screen are four new photos. Usually she sends selfies with a common style: Acting cutesy and bright, pouting and puckering her trademark duck lips on camera. This time, it’s different. 

It’s only ever seen seldomly in live performances—think her red top at that one festival or a similarly matching green crop she previously wore—but she’s rocking a white crop top with jeans, perfect belly exposed, complemented by faux panties linked to her pants. Her plaid is dropped down her arms, shoulders fully exposed. It’s bold. It’s scandalous. To almost everyone else, it’s a dramatic shift from her bubbly concepts, but you, along with a lucky few, have already seen this before—far beyond explicit detail.

Immediately, your thoughts return back to last summer. Quick, vivid flashes of her in every lewd position imaginable play in your head. Whenever you see that face, you can’t help but be reminded of how you were atop her, how your cock was deep inside her mouth, and how she was carelessly used by five different men, including you. A cloud of guilt and trauma lingers over you, still incapable of grasping how this cute girl with a colorful image, enjoys being taken in such a pornographic manner. 

Still, the door to the past remains open, enough for a little light to seep in—or in this case, darkness. 

Another bell, another notification. She follows up her jaw dropping photos with three perfectly timed messages:

> I can’t wait to show you a different side of me ㅠㅠ

> Some of you already have ;)

> You mean a lot to me, jigumi

It’s almost like she’s reading your mind, actively dissecting your thought process, and using the right words to drag you back into that darkness. Most people would definitely embrace and relish in it, but not you. In your eyes, she’s still an idol with a family friendly image to uphold, and not everything is tainted, but when Yena herself comes out with these kinds of photos and outfits, you’re like a parent dumbfounded at their child for being rebellious. 

She’s an adult and she can do whatever she wants—you acknowledge this—but your heart feels heavy seeing her act this bold and confident.

A handful times you’ve considered dropping her. It’s not like she’s the only idol you like; you like her former members just as much, some of which are prospering in their new groups, but you’ve always had a special connection to Yena, one that was corrupted when you participated in that fanmeet. She’s still the same Yena, with the same charms that caught your attention, but it seems as if you’re looking at a clone or a variant. It doesn’t feel the same.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door, interrupting your deep contemplation. It’s probably one of your neighbors, as usual. Lxxk 2 You plays over the big television subwoofers, bass thumping, loud as if it were a concert, and it’s that time of the night when most working people should be sleeping. You should be preparing for bed too, but you’re considering other activities before you get some shut eye.

So you hop off from the couch and walk over to the flat’s entrance, powering the music down to ear-friendly levels. You open the door, and your face goes wide, completely in shock.

It takes everything in you not to shout like the building’s on fire. Celebrities shouldn’t be visiting middle class apartments randomly, nor should they be knocking on people’s doors, especially this late at night—unless an entire camera crew is behind them. Not a single camera person or hidden camera in sight.

This has to be some sort of elaborate stage prank, because the timing couldn’t be any more on point; then again, that’s what you thought when she began undressing in front of you.

Yena’s standing at your apartment entrance, grinning from ear to ear. In her tiniest, squeakiest tone, she whispers, “Hi.”

As if you were gonna say anything back, and even if you had something to say, the overwhelming emotions you’re feeling derail your train of thought.

She playfully leans her face close to yours, eyes scanning your idle, unintentionally humorous expressions. “Looks like someone’s happy to see me again.” 

An understatement. Despite the emotional conflict you were dealing with, no words and no width of a smile can express how excited you were to see her in the flesh—and right at your doorstep, no less. Unless—

“It’s—it’s y-you, right? Tell me this isn’t a joke.” Doubt makes itself evident in your anxious tone. You didn’t want to expect much, only for that hope to be ripped to shreds.

“Of course it’s me!” Yena puts her hands on her waist, jokingly pouting, as if she was offended. “Who else would be knocking on your door this late at night?”

Blinking rapidly while you stare, still in utter disbelief, a momentary pause before you reply, “My neighbors?”

“Really?” Expecting a predictable answer, only to be subverted, her eyes dilate. “I’m sorry. I can come back next week if you want—” 

“No!” The scream you let out echoes throughout the hallway, foregoing any form of built up subtlety. Joke or not, it’s far too soon for this fleeting moment to end. “I—I didn’t expect you to show up like this at all.”

“Nobody does.” Yena giggles, and it’s cute, warm, and everything that drew you to her in the first place. “Anyway, if you want me to stay, you can invite me inside your place and we can talk some more.”

She didn’t need to add a follow up smile. You were always going to welcome her regardless of whether or not she said anything.

—————

Call it hyperbole, but you’re really caught up in your own feelings. How wishy-washy you are— contemplating whether supporting Yena was the right thing to do, only to drop those questions the moment she appears at your doorstep, reminding you that nothing of value was lost.

From the dining area, Yena casually watches you teeter across your little kitchen, holding that smile from outside your flat. Ignore the hot kettle in your hand; you can’t last even a few seconds without looking in her direction, sometimes meeting her gaze. When your eyes do meet, there’s a spark, a connection taking form, but it’s make-belief inside your head. She has a finger gently placed on her rosy cheek. It gives you butterflies in your stomach. Then her grin broadens an inch wider, and your heart races. Every little thing she does makes you flutter, as if you’re having a crush on someone for the first time.

Yena has this large racing jacket layered on top of what appears to be a gray sleeveless dress shirt with matching color skirt, striking a balance between quirky and attractive. Even outside of her profession, she always dresses unconventionally—probably because it’s her style, and not only because she wants to stand out. Had she appeared in that fit from the photos she sent half an hour ago, you wouldn’t have been able to control yourself.

Despite the beautiful distraction occasionally getting in the way of your focus, somehow, you’re able to brew up some hot chocolate to serve to your guest. She already had dinner earlier—she told you right as you led her inside—and thank goodness for that; you didn’t want her to use your bathroom for all the wrong reasons, make her second guess the decision to randomly visit a fan out of the blue, especially right before a comeback. Worst case scenario would be a reported hospitalization and the postponing of many different schedules, all because of you.

Can you imagine the fallout? 

It’s probably best not to think about it too much, especially after she drank through the whole mug like it was a bowl of ramen. There’s small residue, tiny little specks on her lips, and she has this gleeful, childlike look in her eyes. 

God, you’re so cute, you think to yourself.

“It’s really good,” she says, turning her gaze to you, shifting to a more businesslike stance in a snap, smiling and nodding. “Thank you.”

No words can describe how mushy your heart feels. Being complimented by your favorite idol—your favorite person—has to be one of the highest forms of validation possible. You’re set for life. If she tells you to quit your job to sell drinks instead, you’d drop the resignation letter in a heartbeat.

“Would you like another?” you ask. The joy is too much to contain, cutting loose in the form of a toothy grin. 

“This is enough, but thanks,” she replies, and you’re brought back down to earth again. Still, this memory will last as long as you live. 

Deep in thought, her eyes roll down to the empty mug. Her index finger runs loops around the cup’s edge. Even when she’s doing seemingly mundane things to pass the time, you’re left in awe of how gorgeous she looks. You already saw her before, under different circumstances, and she was everything you hoped for—far better than what any camera captured. Here, with less makeup and with a more casual fit, she was as close to perfection as she can possibly be.

You look at her for what appears to be hours, soaking in the sight of a homely Yena you’ve previously only imagined in dreams. The way you stare at her, scan even the tiniest of motions, and examine every little part of her leans on disturbing at points, yet she doesn’t say a word, nor does she care to glance in your direction. She appears lost in thought, mindlessly using the cup as a tool to exercise her brain. You’re anxious to say a word, let alone ask a question—and you’ve got plenty.

“I bet you’re wondering,” she says suddenly, tone hushed, eyes focused on the mug’s base, index finger still running laps on the edge. Pausing, she repeats herself, reforming her train of thought. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.”

“Yeah.”

There’s one of your questions, delivered in a way you’re unable to. At least she knew that one, but she may as well have known everything inside your head over the last several months.

“I like to remember the people in my fanmeets.” She lifts her finger off the cup, cleans the stains off the fingerprints by rubbing it against the wooden surface of the table. “And I checked who I haven’t spoken to in a while, and guess what? We haven’t interacted since then. At all.”

Your eyebrows lift, concerned more than surprised. “You’ve been visiting your fans?”

Her eyes slide up, meeting yours in a magnetic gaze. She flashes you a grin, no different from any of her other smiles, but you’re immediately smitten. “I do.”

There’s a pause, a moment where you stare into each other like you’re both in love. You’re smiling too. 

“I mean—I don’t go out of my way to visit them.” Yena breaks the tension, averting eye contact. The right sleeve of her jacket slides down, exposing a lot of shoulder and skin. It’s dangerous, how nonchalant at how sexy she is. “Everyone sends me a message, and they usually run over to my place to do the thing, then they leave.”

“Damn,” you comment, taken aback by her sudden reveal. “You let everyone run through you so easily?”

“I don’t hate it. I enjoy it.” Yena fires a mild scowl at you, seemingly insulted by the manner in how you said it. “You were there, you know.”

You lean back into your chair, rattled by her sudden stern demeanor. “Yeah, but—”

“Idol life is exhausting. I’m sure you know that, right?” interjects Yena, half pouting and half grimacing, her brows lowered. “I need an outlet from all the stress, and what better way than to get some from my fans? They get to feel good, and I feel good too. It’s a win-win.”

“It has to hurt at some point,” you reply, even more worried. The thought of Yena being used on a daily basis many times agonizes you, yet you never really mused the idea when you were using her mouth. 

“I’m used to it, don’t worry.” She relaxes her composure, gradually returning to her softer side. “You weren’t this worried when you were shoving that long dick of yours down my throat.”

Consider your argument invalid. You look down at the table, guilty as charged.

“Something up? I remember how hesitant and nervous you were, but you still used me like everyone else.” She holds your hand, drawn into a knuckle, inching her face a bit closer to yours. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”

You sigh. “I don’t know if I should say it to you directly.”

“You can tell me everything.” Yena says it with endearing conviction, as if she were your therapist. Here’s the thing, though: you have no experience with one. 

You pause, then you sigh. Again. There’s a line between her invitation and your doubt tugging at you from opposite ends. Months of pent-up turmoil and internal conflict, ready to unload all at once. You have to remind yourself that she's an idol, not your personal counselor, and it may prove to be overwhelming even for her. There’s her hand, tenderly resting on yours, lulling you into a sense of security, but here comes your mind, acting in ‘self-defense’, feeding you negative thoughts like the three meals you eat every day.

For a third time, you sigh.

Fuck it. You’ve got nothing to lose, anyway.

“God—where do I begin—” you huff, tilting your eyes in the opposite direction, dodging Yena’s perceptive gaze. A brief silence follows. You’re hesitant, undecided on whether to tell all or keep it to yourself, but your toes are already deep in the water—might as well dive in. “I—I thought you were special.”

Yena angles her face, quizzical. “What do you mean?”

“I really liked you from the beginning, when you were still on Produce,” you reply, eyes now facing the direction of the living room. There are a handful of framed photos, mostly Yena photocards from previous releases. “I don’t know how I can properly explain it, but—” you pause. Swallow that lump in your throat. “You were different from every idol I’ve followed before.”

She frowns. The hold on your hand becomes a tad bit tighter.

“Gosh, this is gonna sound so cheesy—” you quietly mutter, chuckling at what you’re about to say. Yena fails to suppress her own giggle, her hand trembling. “But—I thought you were just the best, you know? So funny, so cute, and so talented in every way. You were the perfect girl. Still are.”

Her cheeks blush a bright flowery pink. “That’s really sweet of you to say. Is this a romantic confession?”

“God damn it, Yena—” you quietly groan, rolling your eyes back to your skull. Way to ruin a serious moment with humor. “Kind of! If you want to look at it that way—”

“Not the first time someone outwardly asked me to be their girlfriend. Sorry to tell you this, but I’m kind of busy with myself to have relationships.”

“I mean—no! I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, obviously—” 

“I wonder what she’s gonna say about this one—” 

To your dismay, Yena smirks.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, ugh—” you grumble, annoyed. On the other hand, she’s laughing heartily, enjoying every single moment of the exchange. “Can I just cut to the point?”

She cackles a bit longer before gradually calming down. “Okay, okay. Continue.”

“Okay, where was I? Perfect girl. Right. Point is, I wanted to follow your career and watch you succeed. So when I heard you were coming out with a fun and colorful concept, I was so excited. I knew it was the perfect match for your personality. God, you had no idea how overjoyed I was when I found out I was gonna finally meet you face to face. All that album spending was finally worth it. Then the day arrived, I thought it was gonna be simple and fun. God.”

“Then what happened?” she asks, casually, seemingly oblivious to the sudden widening of your eyes. There’s trauma written on both of them.

“Then you started stripping.”

The little smile on her lips curls, turning serious. “And then?”

You couldn’t really answer, not because you didn’t know—you do—but because you don’t want to elaborate. Even thinking about it now, with whatever confidence you’ve mustered up until this point, this is as far as your resolve can go.

Sighing, you say, “You became tainted to me.”

Yena nods. Ridiculous as it sounds, she immediately understands. “Oh.”

You feel something loosen; it’s her hand on yours, pulling away. A tense silence follows, while you both ruminate over everything that you’ve said. It’s heavy—perhaps a bit too much to take in all at once, like you predicted.

“I still don’t regret it,” she says, pouting. Call it cold, insensitive, or callous, she shows no sign of remorse. “But I understand where you’re coming from. Look at this young idol, she’s cute and sweet, but then she lets herself get used by everyone for fun. I guess you wanted me all to yourself? I don’t blame you. Everyone wants me for themselves, too.”

For a moment, she was close to figuring it out. For a moment.

“It’s not even that,” you reply, unamused at the somewhat narcissistic answer. “I mean—you’re not wrong—”

“There you go!” Yena interrupts, internally celebrating and patting herself on the back. “You’ve said it yourself that you wanted me too. Well, here I am—”

“It’s not that simple!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air out of frustration. Forget that she was an idol, forget that she was a guest—you’re yelling at her the same way you argue with your landlord about rent. “Can you listen to me for just one moment?”

She looks at you, eyes wide and mouth agape. Frozen, stunned, speechless.

For a moment, you hesitate, regret almost immediately striking you in the gut. You don’t blame her if she decides to walk out on you. Wasting time arguing with a fan should be the least of her priorities. She’s a soloist who can go about with her career in any way she wants. You have just as little power over her as anyone else—none.

“God, forget about it,” you say. If there was any moment not to be human, not to be you, it would be now. “I mean—I really do want you, but I just—”

“No, no. Go on. I’m listening.” Yena’s tone and expressions are dead serious—a far cry from the usual jumpy side she normally shows. Her hand snakes back to grab yours. At first, you draw it an inch back, until you change your mind and reach it out for hers again. An olive branch of sorts.

“I don’t know where to begin, Yena. You’re so cute,” you say, staring into her starry eyes, twinkling under the dining room light. “I didn’t expect you to be such a—um, you know—”

“A cock slut?” She says it so casually, it’s off-putting to the ear. It still feels weird to hear those two words come out from those seemingly sweet lips, even though you’ve heard them before.

“Yeah. A cock slut.” The words escape your mouth like puke.  You can feel your conscience gradually die calling her one, worse than any profanity you’ve ever spoken. “Can you not—”

“Of course, of course.” Yena nods. “Sorry.”

“Anyway—” You pat her hand tenderly, rolling your eyes while you condense your thoughts into something coherent. “Look, I just—I really can’t tell if you’re still Yena after what happened. I know this is so stupid, but I always liked your cute image, and now it’s ruined.”

She caresses your hand back, showing a little reassuring smile. “Aw. I’ve heard that before, and I understand where you’re coming from, but as an artist, I want to make the music I want, and I want to be more than one-dimensional. I want to show sides I never could when I was in a group. I want to be great at everything, so you can be proud of supporting a multi-talented idol.” 

“I’m already proud of you,” you whisper. “You’re already perfect in my eyes.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate you for supporting me all these years.”

Next thing you know, your hands are no longer on each other—they’re caressing rosy cheeks, feeling the warmth and affection of the other’s skin. You’re staring. With much of the angst you’ve repressed is finally poured out, there’s nothing left except a growing desire of want and lust.

“So, you don’t want to support me anymore?” she asks. Seeing the disheartening look on her features breaks your heart. It’s like saying farewell to a best friend going away, never to be seen again. “I understand, but I am always grateful—”

“No. I still want to cheer you on. I just—this is just a little too fast for me, seeing you mature gracefully.” 

Her smile grows a bit wider. After the dark clouds, the sun shines brighter. It’s not over. “I’m still young, so I’m not maturing that fast. At the end of the day, I’ll always be your duck—and your smiley hero.”

—————

It happened way too fast. Love makes no sense. 

How quick those tense moments fly by, only to be replaced by bliss so shortly after.

She kissed you, pulled you close by the fabric of your shirt. Feelings of a long distance relationship that may have blossomed in another life spring forth. It’s reconciliation. It's a reconnection. 

It’s like the last half-hour of superficial melodrama never even happened.

Then again, you should have known exactly why she was here to begin with.

Before you know it, you’re making out with each other passionately as you head into the bedroom together. Her jacket’s long gone, forgotten somewhere in your living room. Based on how muted the music has become, you may have a hunch as to where it ended up. There’s little resistance from your end; you submit to her quicker than when you shared her with others.

Some things are best experienced alone, and making love with Yena is one of them.

Your lips trace down to her chin, to her soft, sensitive neck. She whines. It’s a sweet sound that tickles your ears. Raising her head up for greater access, you leave marks deep into her flesh, assert full ownership of her body, even just for one night. You hold her by her shoulders, hugging her like your favorite pillow, kissing her delicious, mushy skin, leaving red blemishes on her cute figure, glowing brighter than the sun.

“Mmm, this feels so good,” she whines, humming. She grabs a fistful of your hair while weaving her other hand between your chest lightly pressing on hers. The little separation breaks your attention. When you regain some semblance of restraint, you note the last of the buttons on her dress shirt come off, a black bra revealed behind it. With an inviting smirk, she looks at you with glazed eyes, indicating what she wants without the need for words. 

There’s a tinge of anger, some leftover frustration, in those hands of yours. You shove her down, send her crashing to the bed. It only serves to arouse Yena even further. Your pupils are dilating, driven crazy by the lewd scene playing out in real time. It’s a possessed, hungry stare, ignoring all those endless hours of existential contemplation within mere seconds. 

How quick you are to throw away your qualms on a whim.

She looks up at you with an intense, deep glare. Instantly getting up from the fall, her fingers dig deep into your pants.

She isn’t the only thing quick to rise tonight. 

Your pants are the next to fall, shortly followed by your underwear. Only now do you realize the disparity between you and Yena—how you’ve been talking to her in your pajamas while she’s dressed up like a star. Given the circumstances, you’re not at fault, but still—shameful. The only thing saving you from embarrassment is your lack of self-awareness, and that your erect cock demands complete attention. Soon, those carefully curated nails dig into your skin, making you wince. A brief retaliation. It’s not like you can do anything back, even if she gracefully relinquished control to you. 

Nothing worth getting flustered for, you’ll both be down to your barest shortly.

“Can I?” asks Yena, in her cutest tone, hot air against your tip making you shiver. It’s almost fucked how she pleads to you while readying herself to do the one of the filthiest things imaginable. Tip barely grazing her strawberry lips, her nails itching to grab you by the length, it would be criminal at this point to say no.

You barely notice you’ve given your approval. Almost immediately she takes your tip into her mouth with a delicate hum, so hungry to taste you, so eager to claim you. It takes every bit of your strength not to crumble right then and there, not to succumb to your weakness, clutching at her raven colored locks for support. Both her hands grab you by your girth, stroking your shaft as she plunges it deeper into her maw, devouring you.

Every breath you take is tense, like it’s the last one before you inevitably drown. Based on how consumed you are by pleasure, you’re practically halfway there. Mouth agape, eyes completely shut, hands gripping and losing hold of Yena repeatedly while she vigorously sucks your cock, purring with delight as she engulfs you with her wetness and spit.

“Ummmppfff.” Yena releases your dick from her mouth with a sloppy pop, your shaft now coated in a fresh sheen of saliva and precum. The relief is only temporary as she leashes your cock with her hand, pumping you at a steady but excruciating tempo. 

When you manage to reopen your eyes, the first thing you see is the pornographic expression in her eyes meeting you halfway as her tongue laps up your tip, followed by your underside, then down to your balls, swallowing some of it in her mouth. Kissing around your balls, she refocuses her attention back to your cock as it leaks some more.

“Oh my God—” you groan, still holding onto her locks, before the rest of your unspoken words deteriorate into nothing more than pleasurable, erotic sounds. In some twisted form of appreciation, she pecks up your balls as your tip stains her tiny nose, before putting your girth back into her mouth again.

The short bursts of moans you make spiral into a strain of prolonged, breathy groans. Add the occasional drop of her name and a curse, and it’s the perfect string of praises to give to her. Yena’s tempo goes haywire, losing herself in ecstasy of your cock deeply buried in the back of her throat without any gag reflex. She’s all blushed up, makeup and sweat and precum glazed on a perfect canvas—an expression of wanton desire. Before it dawns on you, she surrenders herself to your most basic of urges, allowing you to fuck her face without consideration for thought or comfort. 

The hair tie keeping her locks together loosens. Another chain unshackled. You don’t really need your eyes open to know how much Yena loves your cock—how she tightly keeps your shaft sealed between her lips with each thrust, how she sings the sweetest song, and how much spit she lathers all over your shaft. All of these sensations combine for a shiver that’s the closest experience to heaven, almost as if she’s ripping your soul out of you.

Yena rushes the pace even further, grabs your ass from underneath you. She doesn’t care that she chokes and coughs from desperation to fill her mouth. She knows something you don’t. The signs are starting to show: the rapidly expanding tension in your loins and the quivering in your legs—an inevitable climax is about to happen, and you’re trying in vain to keep yourself in this position even a second longer than you deserve.

“Fuck, Yena, I’m gonna—”

Determined, she pushes you against her, makes sure your cock is tickling the deepest part of her throat. It’s enough of a rush that spikes an incomprehensible high before you’re sent spiraling back down to earth almost as quickly. Just like that, you’re gone. Your body shuddering, Yena takes you all in like an open faucet, thirstily swallowing every thick, warm shot of cum down her dry throat. 

She releases your withering cock from her airtight lips with a familiar sounding pop, breaking the thin connection between her mouth and your tip made of saliva and seed.  Playfully, she swallows her throat in a show of glee, grinning from ear-to-ear. That’s the first thing you see when you regain your senses.

Your legs are barely holding out, only supported by whatever willpower left in you remains, and your hand pressed into her long, loose dark locks. While you’re gathering yourself, she grips onto your thighs, licks the tip with her filthy, cum-stained tongue, then around the rest of your shaft to render it ‘clean.’ 

You consider that a night well spent, and more than enough, but for Yena, one isn’t enough. To her, it was merely an appetizer.

“You done?” she asks, innocently, but to your ears, it’s almost teasing, mocking—at your poor stamina.

“Not yet,” you say, still gasping in between. 

“That’s what I wanna hear.”

Yena pulls you overhead, sends you down to the bed on all fours, hovering atop her lithe figure. It’s an arousing sight enough to make you hard, but sore—and you’re slowly coming around the fact that you sorely needed her. So you lean down and kiss her, show her intimacy you’ve previously only done in private, behind these same closed doors by yourself, when it was only you and a photograph of her.

Kiss her again. The way it plays out seems ripped directly from your dreams, but something seems a bit off—she still has the rest of her clothes on. 

So you quickly dispose of them, to the floor where they belong—bra first, followed by her panties. In between, you shower her with delicate kisses down her body, from her chin and neck, to her chest as you peel the lingerie off her, down to her toned tummy. You reach between her groin, make instant work of her underwear, and note her already sopping, wet cunt.

That too, you give a kiss of appreciation. 

Right as you’re about to leave, Yena’s thighs begin to clench between your face, denying you an opportunity to leave without a taste of her as well. It’s a brutal sweeping force pulling you in, and you can do nothing but concede, allowing yourself to get swept away in her over wetness. Her body writhes, squirms as you indulge in her, lapping your tongue around her tasty flesh and her sensitive clit.

“Mm—oh t-that’s so—f-fuck—” she whines, tensing up and body clenching tighter as you devour her with greater hunger than what she did to your cock. 

It only serves to spur you on, unlocks a deeper level of thirst and instinct you thought you never had. With a frenzied pace, your tongue sticks to her mouthwatering clit like a magnet, with her mmms and aaahs in the background urging you to take it all. Any spilled drop of her would be a waste, and you're determined to make sure none of it goes anywhere except your mouth.

Her body quickens and accelerates to its natural bliss, faster than you expected, and you can feel every nerve, every fiber burn and tense beyond the point of repair, yet she can’t—and won't—stop moaning, unable to keep herself shouting with ecstasy, crying out your name like you’re her savior. Hands gripped on the sheet, she eagerly anticipates the moment you’ll deliver her to her nirvana, her paradise, and you’re working your hardest to bring her there.

Digging your fingers between your thighs, you slip a digit around her delicate folds, and it drives her mad. She lets out her loudest yelp, a scream worth a neighbor’s concern, but you’re beyond past caring for subtlety. Let them knock, let them burst through the door. They’ll have to drag you away for you to stop.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, I—”

It’s on a rather weak flick that sends her careening over the edge. Your face becomes a vessel for a torrent of ambrosia, of gooey juices to gush over. She twitches and groans, enveloped in a shockwave of her own high. Releasing your fingers from inside her, you barely hold her upright, keep her legs suspended in limbo while you’re still an outlet of pleasure she uses to fill up. 

Winding down, the grip on her thighs loosens. For the first time in minutes, you can finally breathe. When you emerge from her delicious clit, you’re a beautiful mess, a canvas made of ecstasy and slick—an image she always draws for every fan she meets, and perfectly recreates.

And it still isn’t enough to satiate her.

“I need that dick inside me,” says Yena, delivered low and seductive. She extends her arm out, points out your already hard cock. This was her plan all along—to buy time while you ready yourself for the second time. “I can’t go without at least one nice warm load in this wet pussy.”

You sigh—not out of frustration, but exhaustion. 

She smirks and silently giggles. “I didn’t see you grumble like that at the fanmeet. Now that we’re all alone, you have me all to yourself. Come on. Use me. Fuck me.”

It’s not just in the way she says such profane, salacious words to lure you, it’s in the elaborate order she says them—like she’s practiced it meticulously a thousand times, and knowing everything now, it makes complete sense.

Yet with the way your body moves, how you almost immediately respond to her call, it works to near perfection. 

Hand on your cock, you hover atop her, line your shaft against her sopping cunt, force a gentle whine in response. Testing the waters, you whisper against her lips, “How do you want it?”

“Any way you want,” she mumbles back, smiling sweetly, but the intent behind the expression is anything but. Her hand traces the outline of your free arm, up to your cheek, caressing your face tenderly—a display of gentleness in the middle of high tension. “From here, from behind, on all fours—maybe even my mouth again. All up to you.”

So many options to choose from, you wish you had the strength and the endurance to do them all—maybe in that order as well. It’s an inconsequential question and challenge, but the decision making is more than existential. You don’t know when you’ll get to have an opportunity like this again.

Her lidded eyes stare into yours, anticipating your next move. Leaning into her ear, you moan into her as you penetrate her pussy with your shaft, her cry melding with yours into a harmonious sound. Your hands intertwine with hers, lifting them over her shoulders as you slip your cock into her tight, suffocating cunt. Missionary might be the least inviting of all the possible positions, but you wanted to see her crack, to see her fall apart, to see her break.

Unsurprisingly, she does. Between one deep nail into her after another, you watch Yena crumble into a lewd, pornographic heap of skin. Her eyes go shut and her lips curl, melt wide open, moaning and cursing like they’re the only words she ever knows. The same expressions that haunted you are back, but with the way you’re smiling, now you’re master over them—it doesn’t torment you anymore. 

Call yourself hypocritical, but you’re enjoying every moment of this, every moment of your cock buried inside of her cunt—for yours alone. Combine your collective moans with the sound of your thighs sloppily slapping against each other, you’re making beautiful music. 

“Fuck, Yena. Fuck, Yena.” Your thoughts loop between those two words, with nothing else to fill in the gaps, and it eventually materializes on your lips. There’s her breasts, bouncing vibrantly with each ripple of her body, so that might be the distraction. You grip them with a hand and it doesn’t change anything. At best, it only changes her pitch. You’re fucking her, that’s for sure. 

Many nights you’ve secretly wished and pined for this moment—and at times, you’ve slept with wet fingers pretending it would come. Now it’s here, at its apex, and you don’t want to let the time slip away—at least not yet.

Your body doesn’t follow, doesn’t recognize you’re one whole entity. It’s rebellious. It thrusts, it picks up speed, it only knows to go either 0 or 100. There’s no in-between. Yena’s perfect figure recognizes how unruly you are. Her pussy flexes against your cock harshly. It may as well be a death grip. It’s almost taunting to see how difficult she makes it for you to slip out, so determined to make you cum in as little time as possible. 

She has places to be, but you’ll make sure she doesn’t walk out of here unless it’s limping.

Even that proves to be counterproductive. The way you rail her, exert every last bit of effort into ensuring your dick is deeply buried inside her as humanly possible proves to be too much for your own body. Your pelvic joints flare up, ache and sore, pleading for you to be gentle, but anything less would be a disappointment to Yena. That’s how she wants it, and you’re more than willing to sacrifice yourself to give her everything.

You’ve drowned out her loud screams at this point. Even the idea of a few more minutes seems out of reach. Yena helplessly quivers beneath you, screaming in both agony and joy as you wildly fuck her, completely submissive to your most radical of whims. Rational thinking is practically non-existent, only dependent on the most basic and primal of your instincts to end her—and yourself.

Mouth agape, exposed neck with red sores all over from marks you’ve unknowingly made, she cries out, aware of your plight, “I can feel you’re so close to cumming—Give it to me—I can tell how badly you want to cum—just give in and fill me up!”

You can’t even look at Yena, losing the last of your restraint rapidly by the second. The sight of your cock spearing her beneath doesn’t help either. It’s basically over. With a deep thrust and sigh, you give in and do as she says: fill her up. 

The groan you make is inhuman, borderline animalistic. Without thought, you let yourself go, fire thick shots of cum, one after another inside her soaked pussy. The painful but thrilling feeling lingers on for what may as well be hours. You can’t stop throbbing inside her, pulsating inside her greedy cunt, waiting for your cock to finally stop shooting a presumably infinite amount of seed to fill her with.

Using the last of your strength, you move yourself to the side with enough space that when you eventually crash, your outstretched arm gently settles atop her bare chest. Gone are the loud, deafening moans and unrecognizable bed creaks, replaced by deep, gentle breaths.

—————

Thank goodness it’s the weekend, otherwise you’d be worrying about the work day to come while you lie restless in bed. Actually, you do have something concerning—the heap of reports your boss gave you earlier that day. You’ll get it started after you’ve gotten enough rest, which will take you into the afternoon.

It’s not the monotony and the tedium of work driving you crazy tonight. It’s Yena. You both should have been completely tired by now, bodies completely drained of all their strength. Instead, you’re trying your hardest not to give in to her advances while she playfully demands another round with you. 

Toss and turn as many times as you want, pretend to act like you’re sound asleep as much as you want, she doesn’t buy into the act. She’s considerate enough to be gentle, but mischievous, kissing every part of you, clambering over your shoulders, looking at you with an unassailable bliss, all while you’re evidently miserable. You were done.

“You don’t have work tomorrow, right?” she asks, so sweetly but quite taunting. Her arm wraps around your waist, teasingly going for your groin, completely numb at this point.

“I don’t.” A feeble lie. Even the slightest notion can start another wildfire, so you desperately avoid entertaining her, yet she proves to be more persistent than you bargained for.

“Come on, then. I suppose you don’t have a little more for me, right?” Yena flips you face up that you’re staring into each other’s eyes. She’s still hungry, still greedy, a fire still brightly lit within them. 

Sighing, you lightly lift your head, pulling her face close for a chaste kiss. Then she steals whatever control you have. It spirals out into a full-blown make out session.

Next thing you know, she’s riding you, moans overpowering the aching and groaning you loins feel, demanding every last drop out of you, yet you can do nothing but watch helplessly as you succumb to her wanton desires. 

Then you flip her around and pound her against the backdrop of a mirror, making your argument completely pointless.

Plenty of time has already gone to waste, and you will spend some more, but you don’t regret a single second of it.

—————

“Thank you for a wonderful time,” says Yena, cheekily smiling as she crosses beyond your entrance door. Fully dressed and mostly clean, she sounds like a guest for a simple dinner—as if you didn’t rail her five times throughout the night. 

“Yeah, thank you as well,” you say, holding your throat between words, unsure whether you’re feeling guilty or awkward—perhaps both, but it’s a terrible disguise for the high you’re actually feeling. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Gosh, you should just drop the act. I know you actually enjoyed it.” 

Caught red-handed, you lift your hands, shrugging your shoulders playfully. You’re lightly smirking, barely suppressing a chuckle. She’s right. “Yeah. Sure did.” 

“Comeback’s on Monday. Maybe I wear this outfit during the showcase,” she remarks—the first time she’s said something about her occupation throughout her stay with you. Winking, she adds, “I hope you enjoy the new music. I’ll show a different side of me.”

“Heh. I have already seen it.” 

“And I have already seen yours. To be quite honest, I quite like it.” Yena shoots continued winks at you, her favorite weapon of choice. “I’d like to see more of it, in fact.”

Tilting your chin up, amusement clearly written on your features, you fold your arms. “I know you’re busy and all, but I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again.”

“I don’t really have a lot going on. Just some appearances, but no serious music show promotions, so you’ll see me sooner than you think, who knows?” Yena waves you goodbye while you slowly but quietly pull the door on her, her cheery smile persistent even with the sight of your evident sadness. “Please rest, okay? Oh, and check your table later. See you.”

Instead of taking her words to heart, the dinner table is the first place you head to, not your bed. On the edge lies a polaroid of you two like a couple, her arms wrapped around you in a bear hug. Behind is a 10 digit number with a note written beneath in tiny letters, but with the three most encouraging words your eyes will have the joy of reading.

> Call me anytime. <3

—————

(A/N: I figured it was high time to write a Yena fic again. 34-35 days is like the longest gap between fics on a non-hiatus period. I thought it was kind of interesting to explore what happens to an OC after one of those fanmeets like that of Make me smile, make me scared. Thank you for reading!)

[lulublack90]

Prompt - Message

@jegulus-microfic December 18 Word count 632

‘Ding!’ 

James’s phone alerted him to a new message. He looked down at the illuminated screen ‘New Match.’ The dating app notification read. He opened the app and scanned the message.

Congratulations Hotterthanthesun, Princeofstars has matched with you.

He clicked on the link to see his profile page. No pictures of his face. Just a rather artsy one of long, elegant fingers wrapped around the stem of a crystal wine glass filled with red wine. It made the fingers look ghostly pale, making the emerald ring wrapped around his index finger pop.

James sent a quick message.

Hotterthanthesun

Hey, how’s it going? gorgeous hands btw.  

He barely had to wait before he received another message. 

Princeofstars

Not bad just got back from work. Excellent abs btw. 😉

Hotterthanthesun

Wait what?

He checks what profile picture he’s got. Usually, it’s one of him at the top of the London Eye, the sky lit up golden behind him as the sun sets. What he finds is a cropped shirtless picture he took as a joke for Sirius. That backstabbing little…

Hotterthanthesun

So, looks like my best mate changed my profile pic. That is me though just to be clear. Totally not catfishing. 

Princeofstars 

Well, now I’m certain you are middle-aged and balding with a beer gut.

Hotterthanthesun

😅 No, I promise I’m not.

James and his mystery match continued to send messages to each other every day for weeks. There was a lot of flirting. But they also touched on a few more serious topics. 

Princeofstars

My brother keeps pestering me to go see him. It’s getting annoying. 

 Hotterthanthesun

Why don’t you go see him then?

Princeofstars

We have a lot of baggage. He wants to try and mend our relationship. But I’m not so sure it’s a good idea. 

Hotterthanthesun

My best friend would do anything to get closer to his brother again. Not that I know the ins and outs of your relationship but it might be worth thinking about. 

Princeofstars

Ugh, you’re so sentimental. Fine, I’ll contact my brother. But be warned I’m blaming you if it goes tits up.

Hotterthanthesun

You can take it out on me when we finally meet. 

Princeofstars

Well, now I don’t want it to go well.

Hotterthanthesun

I can think of a few things we could do if it goes right. 😜

Princeofstars

Incorrigible devil

Hotterthanthesun

😈

Princeofstars

Goodnight

Hotterthanthesun

Nighty night x 

They’d both agreed they quite liked the mystery of not seeing each other's faces so they didn’t share them. James was having a good time. Whoever this faceless prince was he and James seemed to fit together.  

“Oh, Reggie’s popping in later,” Sirius said as he poured them both drinks. “Took a lot to get him to agree mind. He’s still being a little shit. But at least this is progress.” James caught the happy little smile Sirius tried to hide. He knew how much Sirius missed his brother.

The doorbell rang and Sirius leapt out of his chair, furiously smoothing his hair as he rushed to open the door. 

“Hi, Reggie.” James could hear the joy in Sirius’s voice.

“Don’t call me that, Sirius.” And the disdain in Regulus’s. 

“Sorry,” Sirius said trying to appease him. “Drink?” 

“Red wine if you have it.” Regulus sauntered past his brother and fluidly folded himself into the chair Sirius had just abandoned.

“Potter.” He reluctantly acknowledged James. 

“Regulus.” Sirius was right he was definitely still a little shit. Sirius hurriedly gave his brother a glass of red. 

“It’s not the best, but it has a fantastic tartness to it.” Regulus nodded, took a sip and grimaced. He put the glass down on the table next to his chair. 

James went cold with shock. He recognised those long elegant fingers and that emerald ring

“Fuck.”

[drabblesandimagines]

Farmhand

Wordcount: 1676

Pairings: Sebastian x Farmer, Sebastian x Reader

You’d felt tired all day, but you especially felt lethargic now that you’d finished your chores for the day. There had been an annoying tickle in your throat all day and it probably wasn’t helped by the drizzle that you’d worked in for a few hours. There had been no other way about it, you needed to get those seeds in the ground today if you wanted another crop out before the season’s end.

You secured the barn and coop doors for the evening, making sure there was enough hay for the animals in case they got peckish. You headed inside for a warm shower, hoping it would perk you up but it had no effect and your head was starting to thud.

You were meant to be playing Soliaran with the boys tonight, but the more you thought about the journey to and back from Sebastian’s and how late it would probably end up being. You hated to let him down though, but you also knew you wouldn’t play at your best. Reluctantly, you got your phone and rang your boyfriend’s number. Sebastian had warned you he wasn’t great on the phone – he much preferred text messages or via the app – but you knew he often missed messages until much later and you didn’t want him to think you’d just forgot about the whole thing.

After a few rings, he picked up.

“Hey, Y/N. All okay?”

“Hi, Seb. I’m not feeling so well. I think I could do with an early night, but I hate to let you guys down… I’ve been feeling tired all day and I’ve got an awful headache now. Ugh, I’m sorry, I feel the worst!”

“Sweetheart,” he began – oh, whenever he called you that still made your stomach do somersaults, “it’s fine, don’t stress. Do you want me to get Harvey?”

“No, it’s nothing serious as that. I think I just need a seriously early night. Going to sleep past midnight and getting up at six must be catching up on me.” Your alarm clock had felt pretty brutal the last few days.

“Do you want me to cancel and come round? I’d be happy to.”

“That’s sweet but it’s okay.” You smiled as you opened the fridge, perusing the contents. “Honestly, I’m going to heat up some soup and then go to bed – I’d be extremely dull company.”

“Only if you’re sure. The others would understand.”

“Please don’t cancel for me, Seb. I’d feel terrible. I’ll catch up next time, okay?”

“Okay. But you’ll call me if you feel any worse, right? I can be right over.”

“I promise. I’m pretty sure I’ll be dead to the world once I get in bed, though.”

“I’ll miss you.” You could hear his pout through the phone.

“I miss you too. Love you, have fun!” You stressed.

“I love you too. Rest well.”

True to your word, you ate some leftover soup, left the dirty dishes in the sink – something you hated doing most of the time – and treated yourself to a fresh pair of pyjamas and crawled into your bed before the clock even hit 8pm.

--

Sebastian hadn’t slept well. He’d had fun with Sam and Abigail and they’d left just after midnight. He’d sat at his laptop for a couple of hours after that, keeping his phone close incase you’d rang. At around 3am he’d got into bed and must’ve had a few hours sleep as now the clock read just after 6am. He’d checked his phone, but there were no messages from you. That wasn’t unusual either – you knew he slept late into the morning and wouldn’t want to disturb him. He considered texting you but having stayed over at the farm a few times now, you weren’t one to take your phone out with you on your early morning chores. He placed his phone back down on the floor and tried to settle down but his mind was whirring. He wanted to see you and you’d be up anyway, right? He groaned as he got himself out of bed, he then quickly threw on jeans and his usual sweatshirt, picking up his keys and heading upstairs and out.

Thankfully, the sun was pretty low in the sky and he didn’t meet anyone taking the back route to your farm. Something was off, though, as he reached the top gate and let himself in – it was quiet. On nights he slept over, he’d soon got used to the sounds of the animals grazing in the morning. The chickens were always particularly vocal after being let out of the coop but as he walked past the door, it was firmly shut.

He checked the time on his watch – 06.45. That was super unlike you, unless you just didn’t want them out today? No, that didn’t make sense. It was often your first task in the morning to go and open the doors, and the only morning he hadn’t seen you do it was when it was a torrential downpour as the animals much preferred staying cosy inside.

Sebastian climbed up the porch steps and knocked, tentatively. Maybe you’d changed your morning routine since the last time he’d stayed – it had been over a week ago. He waited a moment or two but there was no response, no muffled sounds behind the door. Beginning to worry, he dug his keys out his pocket and swiftly found the one to your front door, easing it in the lock and twisting it before swinging the door open.

The living room was empty and there was no sign of you in the kitchen, but your bedroom door was slightly ajar and he could hear deep, heavy breathing. He crept over and peered through to see you fast asleep in the bed, a pillow over your eyes. You must be exhausted. He hovered his fist over your bedroom door, about to knock when he lowered his arm back down to his side. You were always working so hard, he couldn’t remember you ever mentioning a lie-in the whole time you’d known each other – every day it was up at 6am, rain or shine, feeding the animals, watering the crops, preparing the ground for the next lot of seeds… It seemed relentless, all that plus the other stuff living in Pelican Town meant – helping out your neighbours, maintaining friendships and a relationship with him. He began to wonder how you even had enough hours in the day. He retreated, heading back and out the front door, silently locking it behind him.

His eyes turned to the barn and he nodded in determination – he’d seen you do it enough times…

--

You stretched your arms over your head, feeling a bit stiff from the position you must’ve slept in, but otherwise you felt good. Far more rested than you could remember feeling in months. You rubbed your eyes, noting that the sun seemed pretty high this morning, especially since it must be before 6 since you hadn’t heard your alarm go off yet.

You looked over to your bedside table and your stomach sank when you realized it was past 10am. What the…? Had you turned it off in your sleep?! You cursed, scrambling out of the sheets, popped to the bathroom and then quickly got dressed, trying to remember exactly what you had on your to-do list today.

You unlocked the door and stepped out onto the porch to be greeted by the gentle cluck of the chickens pecking at the dirt down by the steps. Had you not closed the doors last night? No, you were sure you had, but that didn’t explain how the cows, goats, sheep, pigs and chickens were now all roaming amongst the grass.

Suddenly, Sebastian ducked out of the chicken coop, a basket in hand and your heart skipped a beat. He caught sight of you standing dumbfounded on the porch and smiled shyly.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

You jumped down the porch steps and over to the fence, where he met you on the other side. His basket was filled with chicken eggs.

“I, er… I hope you don’t mind. I came by early and I saw the animals were still inside, so I checked on you and you were dead to the world. I thought you could do with the extra sleep, so I tried to get on with your morning jobs.”

“Seb, you are the sweetest man alive!” You squealed, pulling him forward by the scruff of his sweatshirt into a kiss. The man’s usually pale complexion turned a cute shade of pink as he blushed.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged. “You work really hard, Y/N. Are you feeling any better?”

“So much better,” you stressed, opening the gate for him. “I think I must’ve slept something ridiculous like 14 hours. What did you get up to?”

“Er, well, I let all the animals out to graze, and I topped up the hay a bit. I’ve collected the fallen fruit, turned the sprinklers on, cleared some of the weeds in the crop patches and I just finished collecting the eggs… It doesn’t seem much considering the time.” He finished with a yawn while you stared at him, momentarily sunned.

“Sebastian, please, that’s loads! I can’t believe you did all that for me. Here,” you took the basket from him and grabbed his hand. “That calls for a coffee break.” You led him towards the porch. “Or maybe even a nap? You look exhausted, did you even sleep last night?”

“A bit,” he shrugged as the two of you entered the farmhouse.

“Go,” you pushed him towards the sofa, “Lie down whilst I brew up the coffee.” You had the strongest suspicion Sebastian wouldn’t make it till then.

He yawned, loudly, before settling down and resting his head back against the arm. “Okay, but only for a moment. Still got cows to milk…”

By the time the coffee was brewed, you could hear light snores coming from the sofa. “Sleep well, farmhand.” You whispered, kissing him on the forehead.

[neoxghoul]

This may sound bad, but I’m not a “believe all victims” person. I do believe that we should be open to allegations, but we should also be skeptical. These type of allegations can break an artist, and as a fan of an artist who had/has to deal with false allegations, I don’t want to see it again if that is the case.

One says consent was given, while the other says it wasn’t. Both were under the influence. If the word “No.” wasn’t said, then other measures could have taken place, such as Timothy pushing Melanie’s hands off herself, etc. Perhaps Melanie couldn’t read the vibes in her intoxicated state and continued to do what she was doing. Now, Melanie said in one of her statements that she wouldn’t do anything with anyone without their absolute consent, meaning she must have heard Timothy say “Yes.” A lot of people take into the account that Timothy didn’t lie about the kink game (with the handcuffs and dice) because of the photo she took, but that only proves that Melanie was the one handcuffed. The photo Timothy used to help her remember honestly screwed her up, because she said it appeared in her Photos app multiple times and her Cloud is messed up. As an IPhone user, I can understand, as for some reason there’s a photo in my phone having the date of “January 31, 1993” (I don’t know either). While I do believe they should have taken this to court, a lot of have said there is no point because it’s been so long, any possible evidence has washed away and the courts aren’t very friendly to alleged victims of high profile cases. All we have at this point in Melanie and Timothy’s credibility of the events. They could have handled it like the adults that they are and had a conversation, instead of taking it to the internet again, especially since Timothy was ran off the internet for telling her story. Timothy had said that Melanie tried to call her sometime after one of the first times she came out with her story, which she declined. Whether or not timelines don’t add up, both have said something happened, we just don’t know when or what exactly. One point I’d take to add which should be taken at face value because it’s been so long, so I’m not sure if it was real, but Timothy had reposted a fanart on her Instagram, and tagged the artist, which turned out to be a Melanie fan and the fanart was of Timothy piggybacking on Melanie. Timothy had cropped out Melanie’s face in the drawing and thanked the artist for such an amazing drawing of herself. I also don’t want to psychoanalyze anyone’s words but when Timothy mentioned another potential victim, she had referred to her as “another girl Melanie slept with,” implying Melanie slept with Timothy as well, and not sa’d her. She could have said that because the other girl didn’t see it as assault but did say Melanie had to ask over and over and she said yes. We don’t know Melanie and we don’t know Timothy, so we should look up the facts first before making our own conclusions.

[arctic-hands]

Thirty minutes and 9 paragraphs into an excited list of alternatives to Spotify's monopoly re: music, videos, podcasts, audiobooks, for weenies like me who are nervous about pirating, and my app crashes.

Well now I'm on a laptop and I swear to god if this crashes too I'm calling it a conspiracy.

LEGAL ALTERNATIVES TO SPOTIFY:

Music: There are virtually limitless options here. Buy music directly from the musicians/band! If they don't sell mp3s directly from their site, they almost certainly have CDs for sale, so buy those and rip the mp3s to your computer (if your computer doesn't have a CD slot, you can buy an external one for fairly cheap). Go to a new/used music store, they still exist!, and buy albums there. Buy old albums from ebay! Go to goodwill or other thrift stores and browse there collection of cast-off music for cheap, you never know what you'll find. Hell, browse their cheap vinyl if you prefer their sound and get a vinyl-to-MP3 conversion device if you like. They even have conversion devices for cassette tapes, if you find a treasure that was only ever released on tape. Once upon a time I would have said Bandcamp for MP3 or even physical albums (I once upon a time got an AUTOGRAPHED TO MY NAME CD of Lauren Ruth Ward's Well Hell album), but they recently union busted and a lot of artists pulled their stuff from them. I don't really know anything about 7Digital's business practices, but they are another seller of MP3 music, as well as MP4, FLAC, and WAV.

Music DEVICES: If you just want to manage everything on one device, your phone, get the free VLC app! It's open source and is absolutely wonderful. I only ever used it for music, but it's capable of much more than I realized, and it's open source and ad-free! And the audio files are tiny, even when I was running out of room on my sixteen gig old phone, I still had a substantial music library on it before before I got a dedicated music player.

Which brings me to my next point: MP3 PLAYERS STILL EXIST! I own two! My first one is a twenty-dollar SanDisk Clip Jam (an established and sturdy brand), my current is a thirty-dollar Phinistec Z6 (that just came out of nowhere it seems). Each have their pros and cons, and there are so so so many options out there. Some are smart, some don't even have wifi (neither of mine do). Some have expandable card slots for even more music. Some are extremely basic, some have a plethora of features. Some are cheap but still decent in sound, some are high-end for that true audiophile experience. Some have touch screens, some have buttons, some have no screens at all. Some only use wired earphones, some only use bluetooth, some (like the Z6) can use both! There are so many brands out there even in Twenty Twenty-four. Even the random brands cropping up online are some really good shit, and I bought both of mine used bc I have concerns about the lithium industry. Oh, and some are regular battery powered. And you don't need iTunes or anything, I just use the basic Windows Media Player to rip my CDs or put mp3s music on my player. In fact I've been avoiding Apple players because I'm worried they'd brick older devices, especially ones with wifi. But there are so many options out there, it's impossible to name them all.

Audiobooks: YOU DON'T HAVE TO USE AUDIBLE! Libro.fm has a similar business model (an optional subscription fee with a free credit every month, or the option to buy book without a subscription for a little bit extra price), and you can direct the profits to the indie bookseller of your choice! I have mine set to go to Baltimore's anarcho-feminist bookstore, Red Emma's. How to listen to the audiobooks you buy? Libro has an app you can listen to directly from! AND they have the option to directly download from the site (meaning no program you have to install) the book in non-proprietary mp3/mp4 files so you can listen to it on any device that can use those files! THAT INCLUDES MP3 PLAYERS! Almost every music player on the market now not only plays audiobooks, but has sections on the device specifically for them! Some, like the Clip Jam, are even proprietary audible-compatible if you still use or already have books there (check audible's site, and you'll have to go thru a registration process). I was listening to audiobooks on both my CJ and the Z6 (the Z6 doesn't have a section for them, but still played them), but I recently bought an e-ink/e-paper (meaning no backlit LED screen causing eye strain or insomnia) ereader, a Pocketbook Touch HD 3, and that is mp3/mp4 capable for audiobooks, and is easier to maneuver books with since it's meant for books. ALSO: the library apps Hoopla and Libby also have audiobooks you can listen to via phone or computer/browser, depending on your library's catalog. Some ereaders can even have the apps for them, and if they have audiocapabilities you can use the ereader for that too.

Podcasts: There are so many apps for this. I have Podcast Addict (I don't remember off the top of my head if it's on apple, I use android, but there are still so many apps). Literally I only had to sacrifice one podcast when I stopped using spotify, PodcastAddict has everything else I've ever listened to or want to listen to in the future. You can download them for offline use on your phone, and, you guessed it, MOST MP3 PLAYERS HAVE PODCAST SECTIONS TOO. MINE DO! There are still ads at the beginning and end, but I usually skip over them without care.

Video: This one is a bit trickier as YouTube is also a monopoly, but what I do is just watch yt on my phone's Firefox browser with UBlock Origins adblocker installed. Sometimes yt gets into a hissy fit with adblocker, but UBlock usually gets ahead pretty quickly thus far. And if in the periods Origins is losing, I just find something else to do. I'm sure someone else has recommendations for videos, they're just not a big part of my life right now.

Anyway, don't let the horrid beast that is spotify monopoloize the audio industry OR your time! There are options, and even if you're not a luddite like me that hates having everything on my smartphone bc I'm worried about privacy or companies yoinking their stuff off my devices via wifi (like Amazon did once with their copies of, of all things, Nineteen Eighty-four about a decade ago) at the whim of corporations. You HAVE OPTIONS! YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CONTROL YOUR MEDIA AND REJECT MONOPOLIES!

[httpscomexe]

Pinky Promise

Summary: You get a job offer, but you wished you had never taken it, especially after finding out that you were now a main target of a child trafficking ring.

(Find what I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, child trafficking, tranquillisers, description of killing, guns, language, theft, blood, violence, description of an anxiety attack.

Word Count: 3574 (Find all chapters HERE)

“Have you gotten anything from it yet dad?” You walk up behind your dad, he was sitting in a comfortable chair, leaning over his tablet which was connected to the phone.

“Nothing good yet. Just some shopping lists and a few risky texts but nothing that proves he’s a child trafficker or drug dealer.” He groans as he leans back and removes his glasses to rub his eyes and uses his index and middle finger to massage his temples. You could see the black circles under his eyes and his breath smelt of coffee as he sighed.

“Well, do you need anything? Maybe you should try to rest while I take a look at it.” You suggest, standing behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders as you gently begin to massage his shoulders. He was an ass, but he’s your dad.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Dad. K’mon. Sleep, I wasn’t asking.” You demand, helping him out of his chair and onto the couch, leaving him briefly to collect a blanket and a soft pillow. “I’ll wake you up if I find anything. Okay? I love you, get some sleep.” You say before helping him lie down and kissing his forehead.

He just hasn’t been the same since the snap…

You pick up his tablet and begin to go through the phone, at least what you were able to see. So which apps are locked? You wonder, first tapping the messenger icon, which refused to open. The gallery opened with no problem, but there were hundreds of photos in the ‘my eyes only’ folder, also locked. What would your pin be? You go through everything else. From first glance everything looks normal. Some games on his phone like angry birds and tetris and then some other normal apps like the ones that track your fitness. His search history wasn’t any different. A few questions that everybody has, like ‘how to tie a tie’ which you couldn’t help but snort a little when you remember he was wearing a velcro bow tie last night. Or ‘how many weeks are in a year.’ But one specific one caught your eye. It read ‘Daughter of Anthony Stark.’

Now for any normal person, this would be normal. Just a casual person looking up what Tony Stark's daughter looks like. But this wasn’t a normal person, this was a man who was selling, growing, and doing drugs, and then on top of that he was trafficking innocent children. So him looking you up, obviously worried you. That was his most recent search as well, which you knew was after the masquerade since how to tie a tie was before it.

He looked me up after the ball had ended.

That’s when a message popped onto the screen, and you tapped it, from ‘Arnold.’ But a passcode pop up immediately appeared, asking for the four digit pin. Shit. You curse under your breath and rest your chin on your hand, thinking of what this man could possibly have as his pin, but you couldn’t think of anything, until the most brilliant idea came to your head.

Tapping the ‘x’ on the pop up, you made the notification banner visible. Swiping away all notifications except for the message, you screenshot it and crop it in the gallery. You could see it was an image, but you weren't sure of what, so you zoomed in. Your heart stopped as another message popped up.

Arnold: Isn’t she a beauty? I have an idea to pick her up if you’re in.

What the fuck? You freak out slightly. You dad had been asleep for maybe two hours since you came into the room so you didn’t feel as guilty when you stood up to wake him, your pant leg getting caught on the table, causing you to trip and knock over everything that was on his table, luckily nothing important as you yell “DAD!” on the way down to the floor, falling on your side.

“Shit! Are you okay?” He’s frantic as he’s immediately on your side and you start rambling.

“I was going through the phone. I didn’t expect to find anything but as soon as I was about to give up and put the phone away some guy named Arnold texted the phone and I zoomed in and there was a picture of me and then another text sent something about him wanting me and-”

“Okay hun. Calm down.” Your dad told you, gently putting his hand over your mouth. “So let me get this straight. You think the man we’ve been hunting down, aka the owner of that phone, is out to get you?”

“No, Arnold is.”

“Arnold?” You nod, standing up, a little wobbly from the fall and you pick up the tablet that was still connected to the phone which you show your dad. “Shit.” He curses, taking the tablet and reading over the message until he believes it. “Those assholes put a fucking target on you…” He says with no raw emotion. “And they’ve had it on you for much longer than I was hoping.” What…

“What do you mean? Do you know the pin to his… everything by the way? I wanted to see the other messages and the photos he has in-”

“It’s 2667.” He tells you, handing you the tablet back as he sits on his couch and holds his head in his hands.

You feel your breathing become more heavy and your heart drop to your ass as you stare at the pictures in his gallery. Hundreds of pictures of so many different young women and little girls. Each of them either horribly mutilated or tied up and on the waiting list to be murdered or sold. But that wasn’t even the biggest worry. Apart from the pictures of you at the ball, Barnes’ arm hooked through yours in most pictures while you were turned away, the messages were the most horrifying…

Finn: So we're going after Y/N Stark? She’d be worth every penny to just keep.

Marc: I bet I could make her behave.

Nicco: So are we sharing her? I hope she doesn’t mind being cut, not that I care.

Henry: Just fuck her in the forest next to the damn cabin then throw her body in the lake, whats Stark gonna do?

Then chills run down your bones. Another message, longer than the rest and from the owner of the phone.

Vincent: Who gives a fuck what we do to her. I have the cameras set up in her room at the Stark tower, all we have to do is wait for her to leave alone, and we’ll pick her up when we can. Now stop blowing up the fucking group chat before I blow up you fucking heads, I’m busy watching our little Damsel shower.

“You knew about this?!” You yell towards your father, a sick feeling creeping up your throat as your entire body turns stiff and you feel your heart panicking. “You knew they were watching me and you said NOTHING?” You begin to cry, you hands shaking as you speak.

“Now Y/N, I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? These messages were from fourteen hours ago, this asshole has been watching me through cameras and you didn’t do anything?”

“Cameras…?” He whispers.

“Yea…”

“What the fuck… Stay here.” He tells you before taking the tablet from your hands and leaving you alone in his workshop.

You feel your heart rate pick up, and your entire body begins to tremble. You feel your breathing shorten and your chest begins to tighten as you begin to feel nauseous. You felt as if your heart might just burst and you’d fall to the ground lifeless with blood pouring from your eyes. Then your vision began to blur, but you could hear someone calling your name, and you felt around for the couch, dropping yourself on it, nearly crawling to get comfortable as you gripped onto your chest.

“Calm down…” You hear, and you begin to whine and cry. You felt as if you were being choked. “Hey little Stark k’mon, we can’t have you dying.” You feel a hand against your chest, and you feel someone breathing on your neck, you quickly try to match their pace.

With your head in your hands, you focus on the other person's breathing.

In, and out.

In, and out.

In, and out.

In, and out…

In…

And out.

“In, and out…” Your vision clears finally, and you open your eyes. On both sides of you are two different people. On your left is Steve Rogers, “Hey little Stark k’mon, we can’t have you dying.” and on your right is Peter Parker, with his hand on the centre of your chest, helping you breathe “Calm down… In, and out.” You repeat their words in your head, and then lean back on the couch, looking up to find James Barnes standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

“Are you alright there?” He asks you. You’ve never heard his voice so soft and calm as he kneels down in front of you, gently grabbing your hands. “You’re red…” He tells you, gently bringing his flesh hand up to feel your cheek. “And hot.” You giggle, but a tear runs down your face.

“I found three cameras.” Your father announces as he enters the room. “One was in her restroom, one was in her closet on the mirror, and the last one was on her ceiling light. So the good news is I found them.”

“Why is that the good news?” Rogers speaks up.

“Well, the bad news is they're dusty. Which means they’ve been here for a while.” You inwardly sigh, not wanting to panic again. You may have received the smarts from your dad, but that doesn’t mean it has to come with the attacks. You did NOT ask for the package deal.

“So they’ve had me as a target for over a month??” You ask, and Barnes follows.

“So we kill them.”

Stark- “No, we don’t just kill them.”

Peter- “Right, right cause avengers don’t kill, we’re gonna find them and kick their… butts.”

Rogers- “There will be no ass kicking, we don’t even know where they are.”

Stark- “That's correct. But for once I do agree with the angry robot.”

Y/N- “He’s not an angry robot, stop calling him that dad…”

Barnes- “As long as I’m right he can call me what he wants.”

Rogers- “You know what. No.” He puts his hands up, taking away the show. “We’re not going to kill anyone. We can kick some ass when we find them, but we aren’t killing ANYONE.” He emphasises the word ‘anyone,’ and looks directly at Barnes, then your dad. “Just because she’s your daughter doesn’t mean you have to care for her more than any random citizen. Y/N knows how to fight.” He explains. “What normal citizens do you know that can assemble an entire MK 13 with their eyes closed and get a headshot on a criminal while falling off a building?” He asks, knowing damn well no normal ass citizen could just casually do that. But you laugh a little and lean over, resting one hand on his back as you whisper to him.

“I get you’re trying to support me, but both of those scenarios included me killing somebody.” The entire room breaks out in laughter. “Also, just wanna point out, if they try to take me, I will kill them Rogers, there’s no holding back.” You tell him with a straight face before standing up, almost losing your balance but catching yourself on Barnes’ arm.

As you’re leaving the workshop, you hear your fathers voice say Barnes’ name, but you don’t bother to stay long enough to listen.

Now constantly paranoid, you start to use your friends' bathrooms instead. Everytime you would take a shower, you would ask Wanda or Nat if you could use their shower, and some nights you wouldn’t even be able to sleep in your own bed. Switching between your dads bedroom and occasionally Steve Rogers bedroom, you very rarely would actually sleep alone anymore.

One time you even thought you found another camera, and even after finding out it was just a small speaker, you were still paranoid that entire week.

So now you were at the park. Sitting on a bench and reading a book, little scenarios from every page were flashing in your head as you imagined every scene. Some ducks were quacking in the lake that was in front of you and occasionally someone would pass by. But nothing ever really drew your eyes from your book until you got a notification on your phone, a text.

Fury: Stark, got another job for you, I’m sending you the mission slip, sign it and get back to me.

You: Okay.

You open your email and look at the attachment that Fury had sent to you. The mission slip was another search and rescue mission, the only missions you ever had were the ones that included you breaking into places and saving as many people as you could, and this specific mission would be you breaking into a warehouse, most likely full of horrible people, and then saving as many children as you could find.

You arrived at the location. Fully dressed in your tactical gear at the warehouse which was located in the middle of the woods away from everyone.

You stay quiet, taking light steps as you approach the warehouse, keeping your eyes peeled for any entrance or anyone who might cause a problem. When you see no one, you continue forward, pulling your mask and hood over your head to hide your face as you creep forward, your eyes landing on a cracked window, but under it were two men, both holding a gun and both were covered in their own gear, but their gear wasn’t nearly as complicated as your.

Looking around where they were standing, you tried to find an area where you could sneak around them, then your feet move slowly as you’re crouched over, nearly crawling to get around to some boxes and cars that were parked to the side, drawing out a razor wire and unlocking your hidden blade. I should just become an assassin, I sure as hell feel like one. You think, pressing your back against one of the large boxes and peaking the corner just as one of the men spit onto the ground, so when neither of them are paying attention, you move again, staying against the wall to keep yourself out of their sight. As soon as you get close enough, directly behind the first guy, you reach over, using your blade to cut one guys achilles tendon and you know it's ruined when he falls over in pain, blood gushing from his foot, then you quickly stand behind the other man before he can process the situation and you use the razor wire, slinging it against his cheek before kicking the back of his knee so he falls to the ground, the side of his head slamming against the corner of one of the boxes. When he’s down, you stand over the man still holding onto his heel, pressing the bottom of your boot to the side of his head, prompting him to shut up, then you press a button on your wrist band, causing sharp spikes to come out of the bottom of your shoe and stab straight into the man's head, immediately killing him, moving off of him when you know the spikes have retracted.

“You bitch…” The other man groans, standing up with blood dripping down his face. “I’ll fucking kill you-!” He croaks, his hand shooting up to hold his neck as the blood from the razor wire slowly drips down onto the dirt below you, then soon after he falls to the ground with a thud. You reach down, checking the pulse of both men to be sure they wouldn’t get back up before ripping a lanyard off one of their necks and finally entering the warehouse.

“That was easy.” You mutter before scanning the car and walking in, letting the solid metal door close softly behind you.

The walls were all white, and there wasn’t a person anywhere to be seen. You assumed something was going on, whether it be a meeting or all the more ‘important’ people were out doing something. You hear a voice, and you quickly hide behind a wall, listening as footsteps reside behind you along with the voices of two men, talking something about a ‘ritual.’ Once their voices are gone, you leave your corner and continue your walk. Obviously you don’t know your way around the place, you’d never been there before and unfortunately the team didn’t get the opportunity to scout the area or construct a map, so it was all on you.

Walking cluelessly through the halls, occasionally coming across a door that you could peek through, you soon realised there was a stench that you couldn’t wrap your head around. You felt like it was familiar but it was bad you wasted no time in activating the filters of your mask, which didn't get rid of the scent, but it at least kept your growing headache at bay. Every few minutes you would come across two men walking and talking with their guns in their hands, but after some time they stopped showing up, leaving you to wonder the halls with no clear direction.

“Hey.” You suddenly heard, causing you to stiffen. The quiet whisper came from an open door, only slightly cracked, so without entering, you peek through. “Hey, can you help me?” The voice asks, and as you put your hand on the door handle to gently open it, she speaks again. “Don’t open the door, there’s an alarm.” She tells you, and you remove your hand from the handle. “Across the hall is a closet, thats where they keep the key to deactivate the alarm and also the keys to my cage, can you help me please? I’m freezing.” She told you, but it sounded so robotic.

You give in anyways, getting sidetracked and moving to the closet across from the room. Opening the door and turning the light on reveals a small room full of cleaning supplies like mops and paper towels, hanging next to the door was a ring of keys, which you took off the wall. Just as you were about to try the keys, the door slams and the lock clicks. Shit. You panic, darting towards the door and going to open it but there isn’t even a door knob on your side, causing your panic to bubble more. The ceiling was solid, you wouldn’t be able to lift a styrofoam ceiling like the rest of the building and there was no vents big enough for you to climb through. Looking again back at the door you see a little girls face. Shes smiling. Why is she smiling? You wonder, then a hand rests on her shoulder and gently moves her away, allowing a larger man to come into frame with a wicked smile on his face. Suddenly the room feels thicker, like you’re breathing in thick water, looking around the room you can faintly see the light reflecting on a gas which was quickly seeping out of the small vents and filling the room, only causing you to panic more which you try to control but your lungs won’t let you. Basically hitting your wrist, you try to activate the filters on your mask again but it doesn’t work, the light on the band isn’t even on so you try to activate the tracker on your necklace which also fails. The signal interrupted by the thickness of the walls.

Then suddenly you feel fuzzy. Your head felt like your brain was rocking back and forth in your head as your eyes began to feel droopy and your sense of hearing leaves you completely as you drop to your hands and knees, no longer able to keep yourself standing, blood seeping from your throat as you cough up more onto the tile floor, soon dropping after, then everything goes black.

Occasionally you hear something, like the sound of the closet door opening, but you’re too dazed to move, even your lips felt paralyzed. In your pocket you feel your phone vibrating with a call, then you feel it slide out of your pocket. “Buck? Who the hell is Buck?” You hear a voice say faintly. Bucky is calling me…? The tracker must've been activated when they opened the door. You try again to move, and you manage, you’re happy until you realise you’re moving against your will, being brought to your feet with rough hands wrapped around your upper arms. You open your eyes for only a moment, just enough to see something in another man's hand, which he had brought to your neck, in the next moment you felt cold, and then everything dropped. You had wished you were dead as your head filled with darkness and nothing made sense anymore. Where did I mess up? You wondered. The girl needed help… Did she lie to me? Why would she lie to me, I was going to save her life… Why would she do this to me…?

[blackdollette]

AHHH YOURE LITERALLY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS ON THIS APP‼️‼️‼️❤️

But Fr tho thanks for doing our requests I appreciate it you write wonderfully

Well idk if you’ve ever written something like this but if it too much you don’t have to give it a second though lol but-

Maybe freeuse!Danny

Hear me out- maybe you and your friends get together at a small gathering (everyone knows why they’re all there) Danny is SLUTTED out I’m talking thigh highs crop top collar on his neck (with your initial ofc!!) tonight’s all about your bf.

He’s all blushy and shy (like he didn’t ask for this in the first place) whining into your neck sitting on your lap but once you feel his cock hardening against your stomach you knew he was turned on.

One of your friends instruct him to come to them crawling and he obeys he’s just being a good free use slut all night. Everyone has permission to touch anywhere they want but nobody has permission to make him cum (your privilege)

(Maybe someone’s is fingering him while another one is softly stroking him totally up to you) he’s just the whore of the night complying to everything anyone says to him

TYYY

ahhh thank you so much!! ur literally so sweet, i swear im crying 😭 and ive thought of this concept sooo many times omg

"i know what the boys want." | dan cooper

lolita. - lana del rey

gn!reader x dan

contents: exhibitionism, throat-fucking, use of sex toys, (theres more. i think...)

not proofread yet. pls bear with the grammar and spelling errors. ty!!

you had 3 of your friends over for the evening. you told them that you had planned something special for them all, and they all had a suspision of what it would be.

"oh danny... we're all waiting for you." you called out. less than a minute later, dan walking into the room shyly. he was wearing baby blue thigh-high socks, tiny blue shorts, a crop top that had "slut" written on it in red letters, and a jeweled collar with your first initial on it. he looked ready for everything that you had planned for tonight.

you patted your lap, gesturing for him to come sit. he walked over to you, planting himself on one of your legs, each of his legs on either side. he hid his head in your shoulder as he felt all your friends leering at him, like predators watching their prey.

he squirmed a little as you started gently massaging his back, your hands travelling up and down his body. he felt the gazes of everyone else wandering down his body. he felt like he was on full display, which he totally was.

"he's such a good little boy..." one of your friends said. danny whimpered softly, and you started to feel his bulge pressing up against your stomach. he wanted this really badly.

"why dont you c'mere for a moment, danny..." your other friend said. he looked at you, as if asking for permission. after getting your nod of approval, he crawled off your lap and started making his way to your friend.

but before he could get very far, you called him back. "why don't you lose the shorts for us, hun?" a red bush quickly spread through his face, but he couldn't refuse.

he slowly peeled the shorts off him, wearing no boxers underneath. his cock sprung out, already red and begging for attention. you smiled as he started crawling over to your friends, who were immediately all over him.

he sat infront of them like a little puppy, looking at them with his giant eyes as his boner throbbed in plain sight. one of the 3 sat in front of him, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking it t a medium fast pace, making dan fall apart right at that second.

another one of them got behind dan, ordering him to lift his hips up, giving a perfect view of his little asshole. they spat on their fingers before massging the spit into dan's tight hole, making him whimper. they stuck 2 fingers in, making dan's body completely surrender to all the pleasure that he was feeling.

you handed the third friend a dildo, telling them to do whatever felt right. so they got in front of dan and made him open his mouth. as he did so, they shoved the dildo into his throat, forcing him to take the whole thing.

as dan was being throat-fucked, jerked off, and fingered, he couldnt help but feel like the biggest whore ever. letting strangers do whatever they wanted with his body. as much as he hated to admit it, he loved every second of it.

all three of them started to pick up the pace, his tight hole being stretched, his cock being stroked until it was red and swollen, and his poor, poor uvula which was being abused as the dildo went in and out of his throat. you sat back and watched the entire thing, a smile on your face.

you noticed his eyes welling with tears as the immense pleasure in his body started turning into a tight knot in his stomach. you stood up from the chair, deciding to take over as dan was about to reach his orgasm.

you told your friends to sit down, them stopping their actions immediately and doing as you say. as dan had his orgasm denied, he cried out, begging you to finish the job. you couldnt resist your precious little boy, so of course you did.

you putthe dildo onto the ground, making dan sit on it. you gave him permission to jerk himself off, which he did happily. as he started pleasuring himself, feeling that familiar sensation once again, you stuck two of your fingers down his throat, making him suck on them.

he started drooling all over your fingers as he felt the dildo hitting that sensitive spot inside of him. tears were falling down his face. he felt all the eyes staring at him as he put on this show, but he couldnt stop.

the stroked his cock faster and faster until he felt his spine starting to shiver and his mind going completely blank. "wanna cum for us, danny?" you whispered. he nodded frantically.

you flipped him over so he was on his back and called your friends over to assist. one took over with jerking him off, and the other two stretched his perfect little asshole for him.

"alright danny, you can cum on the count of three, ok?" you said sweetly. dan nodded, sobbing from everything that he was feeling right now. "3... 2... 1..." he screamed out as he came, so much more coming out than you anticipated.

he was in a position that allowed him to cum all over his own face, so in a matter of seconds, his face was painted with his own cum. it was a very pretty sight to see.

he was panting like a dog by the time you were done with him, his hair dishevelled and his cheeks flushed. you sat back on the couch, dan sitting on your lap. you gave him a soft, tender kiss. "you did such a good job for me tonight, baby..." he beamed as he heard this.

now your friends all knew one thing for certain: dan cooper was definitely the world's biggest whore.

author's note: last post of the day!! thank you so much for this amazing request, it was so much fun to write and i cant wait to read it myself. i hope you all enjoyed!

[billthedrake]

REBOUND

I have the timing down pretty well. I mean, sometimes I come in a minute flat, sometimes I enjoy five minutes of glorious head before cumming. But the rest is predictable, even the traffic. I'll leave my house at 7:25. His place is a little detour on my commute but mostly was on the way to my office. So, twenty minutes drive to his in-town bungalow home, and another twenty to the parking garage I use downtown. I grab some coffee and am at my desk by 8:30.

It's been a solid year now. A year since I broke up with David. Well, since David broke up with me. We told ourselves it was an amicable split but nine years together was a lot. David was my first love, my first serious relationship. We'd planned a future together, bought a house together, and it turns out splitting was bound to be messy. We were cordial, but it turns out we weren't in the place to be friends. I moved out, to a cheaper inner suburb, and licked my wounds for a while.

I wasn't ready to date. Hell, I probably wasn't ready to hook up even, but a man's needs have a way of asserting themselves. Big time. So I set up a profile on the app. I defensively batted off a couple of guys before I saw his profile. His main pic was a photo of his open mouth, tongue slightly out. Before that kind of sluttiness would have been a turn off, but at that moment, I was boned in my sweats and intrigued. His profile description had me even more interested:

"Magic mouth and throat at your service. Talented cocksucker wants a nice piece of meat to suck on. No names, no chit chat, you just walk in, unzip, and get taken care of by a pro. I'm picky about the dicks I suck. Big ones, or hot masculine guys get priority, that's just how it is. Cops and military are especially welcome. I'm worth it, fellas, promise."

The guy's tone was off-putting, I had to admit. But I also had to admit I was boning up thinking of getting my dick sucked. David was never great at oral. I mean, he'd go down on me, but he preferred fucking or just mutual JO. I'd probably never date a dude as buff and perfectly muscled as him, but looking back, maybe our sexual chemistry wasn't the best. I'd been too into looks and perfection to realize it.

I sent Sucker Guy a dick pic. When he said he was looking for big cocks, I wasn't sure how big. But the eagerness in his reply told me I was hung enough. I mean, I'm not a cop or anything, so I just have my dick as my calling card.

"That's a nice fat one, man. Bring it over and let me drain those big heavy balls of yours."

This was no-nonsense, all right. I was more the chat and get to know a guy before stripping down kind of man. But Sucker Guy clearly wasn't. And at that point, my pent up sexual need was winning out. It had been two months since I'd had sex, and I was way overdue.

"Where are you?" I asked.

He gave me a neighborhood. Not close, but not far either.

"I can be there in about 20 or 30 minutes," I replied.

He typed back a full address. "Front door will be unlocked. Come on in."

OK, I felt a naughty thrill driving over. This was the opposite of the relationship sex I'd had with David. I started to worry this anonymous guy wouldn't live up to my expectations. Then I wondered why I even had expectations. So I tampered them. I'd get off, somehow, even if I had to masturbate to completion, but I'd get off. That was enough.

My boner had subsided some by the time I parked and walked up to his front door. It felt odd just letting myself in, but instructions were instructions. The inside was dim, curtains drawn and only a lamp on for light.

Right square in the middle of the living room was a man, fully clothed and waiting there on his knees. Only then I realized I'd never seen his full face, since his pics were cropped from the below the eyes, down. He was older, older than me at least. Maybe late 40s. Handsome in a normal way. I was out of his league as far as the gay pecking order went. I didn't give a fuck about the pecking order.

Just seeing him in that kneeling position and ready to take care of me got me hard. I nodded and said a brief "hey." I wasn't sure if that was against his no-talk preference, but I couldn't help it. If a dude's gonna suck me, I'm gonna acknowledge him.

I did just like his profile said. I pulled down my sweat pants. My boner had returned now, in full force and I enjoyed watching his eyes widen in excitement as he got a good look. I stepped up, giving him a better look. His fingers grazed my bone, and I thought he was going to take his time teasing me as foreplay. Instead, he circled his fingers around the base of the stalk and angled my cock toward his lips. And swallowed.

"Fuck!" I gasped. I watched as he swallowed me. Not all in one go, but close enough. This man knew what he was doing, all right. Some of it was showing off for my visual stimulation, some of it was focusing instead on the physical stimulation of my cock. For about a minute he worked me in a few ways, and I realized he was searching for what was going to turn me on more.

Turns out, I was way into the visual part. Seeing him deep throat me, seeing him hold me all the way inside his throat, seeing him slut out. So he did more of that.

"Suck my fucking cock," I hissed. I'm not a master at sex talk, but figured this cocksucker deserved some feedback. Indeed, the more I offered, the more he got into it.

He was now working me with long, six inch strokes of his wet mouth and throat. A real hooker BJ. It was the furthest thing from David's version of head. But at that moment, my ex was the furthest thing on my mind.

"God, I'm gonna cum, man!" I gasped. It wasn't a warning, it was a promise. Cause I was sure Cocksucker here wanted my load as bad as I wanted to feed it to him.

Maybe I needed to get laid more, because my orgasm just kept cumming. Maybe I didn't shoot unreal amounts of sperm, but it felt like it. Cocksucker swallowed it all in audible heavy gulps. I kept shooting, then dribbles. The whole time, I rode out my O in successive phases... intense, then steady, then aftershocks.

I hadn't touched him the whole time, but I now patted the side of his cheek. In thanks, but also a signal to let up. I was getting sensitive now.

He took the hint and pulled off, giving the tip a final kiss. He had a towel there, and I wiped off the excess spit, then tucked back in. All the while making eye contact with this man. Maybe it was the anon set up but just that eye connection felt particularly powerful at that moment.

"Thanks," he said, breaking the silence. I'm not sure what I expected his voice to sound like but his voice was deep and masculine, probably more than his looks.

"Yeah," I said. "All right," I added, unsure what the etiquette was. "Later, man. Have a good one."

He nodded, a grin on his face. Like he was amused by my awkwardness now that I'd gotten my rocks off.

That awkwardness didn't last long. As I walked back to my car and got in, I felt supremely happy. It wasn't fair to say I'd never had sex that good, but I'd certainly never had head that good, not by a long shot. My only fear was that Cocksucker had spoiled me for others.

To be honest, I still worry that. Because the anon Cocksucker and I developed a routine. After that first time, we'd messaged. I thanked him and praised his abilities. He offered to service me again. Whenever I wanted. So that following Monday, I stopped by on the way to work. I was in and out in two minutes. Cocksucker was just that good. He'd sucked a good load out of me and left me in a good mood all day at work. I told him so.

"Come by tomorrow, then," he replied, adding a devil's emoji.

"Yeah?" I asked. "I will if you're offering."

"I'm offering," he shot back.

It took a couple weeks before we stopped setting up our suck dates. From then on, Monday through Friday, he'd text me or I'd text him only if one of us couldn't make it. But that was a rarity. Almost every workday, I went over to his house and got my dick royally sucked. It never got old. It was like Cocksucker knew how to introduce new tricks in servicing me. And even when he didn't, the old tricks worked just as well. Sometimes I'd try to hold off cumming right away, sometimes I was eager to get off. Sometimes, he'd work me up slowly, sometimes he went right for the kill.

A year in, and I don't even know his first name. I keep worry he's gonna find a boyfriend or partner or something and shut down the arrangement we have going on. Then I worry I'm gonna find a boyfriend.

Maybe that was on my mind this morning. Like clockwork, I pull up to Cocksucker's place at quarter of 8. Like clockwork, I'm boning up in my business casual work khakis when I turn the knob and let myself in. Cocksucker is not always in the living room. Sometimes it's the bedroom, sometimes the kitchen, having his coffee. Sometimes, he's dressed sometimes naked or in his underwear. But he stops what he's doing and crouches or kneels in front of me. Sometimes before I have time to haul out my fat dick.

This morning, he's setting down his coffee on the kitchen counter and crouching on front of me. He's hungry, hungrier than normal if that's possible. It's gonna be a quick one today. As he goes down on me, I worry Cocksucker is keeping me from getting back out on the dating market. Then as he works me I know he is. I mean, there's no fucking way I'd find a man as talented this, who lives to worship my cock.

I place my hands on his hand and start thrusting. This is new for us. Usually Cocksucker prefers to do the work. But he let me fuck his mouth if I didn't go too hard. I was in the mood to today.

"Mother fuck!" I cry as I give it up, hard. You'd think Cocksucker didn't take care of me just yesterday. It was that kind of cum. Hard, one of those light headed orgasms.

As usual, Cocksucker kisses my dick as it clears his lips.

"That good, man?" he asks me. I wouldn't call it chit chat, but Cocksucker and I have gotten comfortable talking more. Mostly getting a little worked up with verbal before the deed and checking in after.

"The best," I say. "Fuck. man, each time you get better at it," I say.

He smiles. Those brown eyes look up at me, and he pats my leg affectionately before standing back up. "I'm gonna hold off drinking my coffee," he says. "I wanna taste your cum for a while longer."

I chuckle. I don't know, for some reason, I decide to take a chance. "The only thing that would have made it better is knowing your name." I look at him intently, gauging his reaction.

I can tell he's tempted but he shakes his head. "Buddy, I'm pretty sure the anon thing turns you on more." He leans back against the counter. He's in pajama pants and a heathered gray college T-shirt. His build is solid, in a middle-aged dude kind of way. The shirt is snugger than the ones he normally wears, and I have a sudden realization he's been working out lately, maybe dieting too. It makes me realize I know nothing about the man.

I sigh. "Man, I don't know what I want, I guess."

"Whaddya mean?" he asks. God that voice is sexy as fuck.

"I mean I want an on-call cocksucker, but I want a boyfriend, too. Guess I can't decide which is better."

"I wasn't expecting this," Cocksucker said. He finally picks up his mug to take a sip and I find myself regretting he's no longer tasting my cum.

"You mad?" I ask.

"Flattered," he says. "But let's just I can't decide what I want either. I thought I could, before you."

I nod. "What makes me different?" I ask. I am on the verge of being late for work, but I have to know.

He smiles. "You know, at first I thought it because you're young and have a great body and an amazing dick."

"I'm not that young," I object. Maybe I should modestly object to the other parts, too, but I don't.

"Younger than me," he says. "By a good bit."

"I don't give a fuck about that," I say. It's like I'm auditioning for a chance to ask him out.

Cocksucker doesn't respond to that. Instead, he continues. "I think after a while, it was your sheer sexual need that made me go for you. That and the nonverbal stuff. When you suck a dude's cock, you get real in tune with the nonverbal communication."

I nod. "Fuck, I should get going, I gotta be at the office soon.... I guess I dropped some heavy stuff on ya."

He shrugs. "If you come over tonight, would you be able to get off again?"

That surprises me, but I know the answer. "Um, yeah. I definitely could."

He pats my shoulder. We've gotten a lot more comfortable around each other. "Then come over and I'll suck your dick again. And we'll talk. OK."

"Yeah," I say. I'm awkward leaving his place, like I haven't been in ages.

Even if the sex was hot, I find myself going through my day lacking the usual good mood from Cocksucker's handiwork. Instead, I'm mulling things over in my head and wondering if I fucked up a good thing.

Only about 2 o'clock, I get a message. "My name's Sam."

I smile. "Cool. I'm Adam," I reply. Then I type a few variations of the same message, erasing each one before finally sending: "I guess I have a name in my head for you besides Cocksucker."

Maybe that's too much but Sam replies. "Cocksucker is good too! Still on for later? I got home around 6, so any time after that."

"Yeah, sounds great," I type back. Already chubbing up at my desk.

[tls123]

Sorry if I bother you, but I really love your gif sets! Do you know some tutorials or, app, or anything, to learn how to make good gif? I am learning and I feel very stupid because all my gifs are shit. (if my ask is inappropriate or anything, please ignore me)

you're not bothering and none of this is inappropriate, you're more than welcome in my inbox! as for your questions, let's see what i can do.

1) tutorials — i've been doing this for long enough that i don't really have much to recommend here, the only tutorials i use nowadays are all about specific things and not how to make gifs as a whole. that being said i've linked this one before, i personally do some things differently but it's a very good tutorial, well-received by gifmakers who are just starting and well written, from what i've skimmed through.

another good post to look through is this one, not a gifmaking tutorial per se but it goes into sizes, sharpening, and how to get neat & clear gifs. two of the main points are A) while you can get away with making gifs out of a 720p quality video, 1080p is what is usually recommended. you could use 4k as well, but a 1080p video is usually easier to find, will take less space in your storage, and will give you really good results already. no need for overkill <3 as for B) size matters here on tumblr dot com, mostly width. the op of the post linked in this paragraph has included a nice graphic for the size limits for gifs, you can refer to it as you make your gifs so that whatever you make won't turn out pixelated once you upload it to tumblr.

if you're curious, i've been asked about my sharpening settings here and i spoke before on tumblr sizing here

2) software — you mentioned app, if by app you mean mobile stuff then i'm sorry, i can't help you! i've never made gifs through mobile and i wouldn't even know which direction to point towards for you to find more information. as for computers, if you mean programs then these are what i use to make my gifs: potplayer (for taking screencaps) and photoshop cc 2020 (for making the actual gifs, this is the post i used but here's one with more links)

now i'd like to mention something my grandma always used to say: no one is born learned. you're not stupid just because it's taking you a while to do something, learning is a process and everyone has their own pace. i've been making gifs for a decade now and i know there are things i could do better! i'm also still learning, i make plenty of "shit" gifs before stumbling my way to something i am okay with posting, and sometimes i'm really proud of what i've made and other times i think it's just "good enough". i understand feeling disheartened but please do not feel stupid about any of this!

no use in putting yourself down, now hold my hand and let's add the finishing touches on this long ass reply <3

3) tips — we've mentioned video quality, sharpening, and sizing. what else, what else. personally i would start simple (and i did, way back when, and still do!! most of my gifs are quite simple). so: cropping/resizing + coloring + sharpening. it'll help get the basics down and then you'll have a good foundation for everything else you might want to learn. i mentioned in another ask, almost two years ago now lmao, that i used to download other people's free psds (that is, pre-made settings and layers to color your gifs) and instead of using them i would open them up and pick them apart to see how people were coloring things, which layers they used, in which order, stuff like that.

remember: there is no right or wrong to do this! you could ask ten different people how they make their gifs, and their preferences for any specific part of the process, and you'd get ten different answers. if you find a tutorial and don't vibe with it, throw that aside and look for another. pick and choose, find what works for you and what doesn't! and that means do not be afraid to experiment and try things out.

also, don't like photoshop? no problem! i started with gimp, now personally i wouldn't recommend it over ps but it's a good program, it taught me a lot, and there's really nothing to hate about it. it might have less functions than ps though, and already a decade ago there weren't that many tutorials/resources for it.

don't like photoshop AND don't want to download a program? try photopea, i haven't used it but it works directly from your browser and it should do everything photoshop does!

let me know if there's anything else i can help with <3

[dollywons]

Can you please tell me how you make your own dividers? Cuz 👉🏻👈🏻 I am opening one blog for moodboards and all that's why can you please help me.

Thank youuuuu!!

Hi hii!! So to make my dividers I use picsart but I believe you need to have pro in order to have a transparent background ♡︎ (Or you can maybe save it with a white background and then use another app to remove the background, but I’m not completely sure how to do this, sorryy! (╥_╥)

So I normally add the icons first and then crop to the smallest size without anything being cut off so the sizes vary each time, I don’t really have a specific size I do!! But for very narrow ones you can go with this:

Then I add stickers until I’m satisfied with how it came out:

(Choose the stickers you want)

(If you don’t care for the background being transparent you can do these steps and save it as a white background without needing pro!) Example:

(Hopefully this helped, I’m not the best at giving step by step tutorials ~(>_<~))

[pikaminari]

Can yall help me out? I did this coloring of someone’s fanart forever ago (with permission) but I can’t find the original artist. I know they were on tumblr and I thought I had saved their original post in my drafts but I can’t find it. I’d really like to find the og artist for the lineart so I can credit them. It seems their watermark was cropped out at some point and I can’t find another version saved that has the watermark.

Also if anyone is wondering (I ask as if people even noticed) why I haven’t been posting my own colorings in a long time, it’s cause I lost them all lol. I got a new phone and all of my old digital art and colorings didn’t transfer, so I only have the ones that I had saved to post and they are scattered within over 8000 photos I have on my phone (the photos did transfer thank god) which also means I lost literally all of my wips, including personal projects that I’d spent over 40 hours on perfecting every single shade and shadow. I wish I could show you guys my progress on some of those but oopsies they’re fucking GONE. So that uh really demoralized me and sent me into art block for a few good months. The same also goes for fics, I primarily write in the notes app on my phone, which I also fucking lost 🙃 and I had three and a half chapters written at the time so I had to rewrite them from memory which was also incredibly demoralizing and sent me into writers block and just plain old procrastination because I’d rather write something new than rewrite something I’d already spent hours on writing and editing.

But on the bright side this phone can operate tumblr, unlike my old phone which would overheat in less than five minutes if I had the app open and crash.

Anyways…. Please help me find this artist!!!

[alia-schlatt]

Good Luck, Babe || JSchlatt

Idea: Parting with Ted and Schlatt. Schlatt getting hit on by a guy while Ted and Reader are dancing.

a/n: I made a post about this idea a while ago but never got to actually do it but I went to a brat x rise and fall of a midwest princess event a few nights ago and it rekindled my imagination for this. Although the main idea was just chappell, I thought to add Ted and the whole brat side of it because of that one edit on tiktok...iykyk! Anyways, enough yapping, enjoy!!!

(As always, story under the cut)

Growing up in Massachusetts, there wasn't a whole lot of excitement in my life. Every day seemed dull. But everyone felt like that about where they grew up, right? That was until I met Ted, my best friend in the entire world, in the seventh grade. He was the reason I moved to LA to pursue acting after senior year.

But alas Ted and I had stopped talking for a while, with no bad blood, just busy lives, and reconnected in 2020 during lockdown. And ever since, we were inseparable. Once a month, we spent the weekend together, and it was just like being kids again.

And then Ted introduced me to Schlatt. And when he found out I had a small crush on him, during chuckle week, after my girlfriend had broken up with me, all hell broke lose. Ted made it his duty to get me and Schlatt together, and hey, it worked.

Two years later, Schlatt was in LA yet again for Chuckle Week, trying to convince the boys to go out partying with me was proved unbelievably hard. Okay, maybe not Ted so much, but Schlatt would not agree. Telling me to go without him.

In the end, I won, but I had to discuss all the lore to the boys before we went to this event, so did I really win? I had to explain to these two men who Chappell Roan was, who charlie xcx was, and had to introduce them to all the music so they wouldn't be lost. It took some time and convincing, but it worked, and they were all dressed up and ready to go.

I dressed up as Chappel Roan from the pink pony club music video and Ted after being introduced to that one edit wore the outfit he had worn at some event for YouTube Ludwig had done. Schlatt, on the other hand, thought dressing up was stupid. But was at least a good sport about it and had gotten a shirt off of etsy that said, "I love my Chappell Roan Crazed Girlfriend".

We had been sitting around talking when Hot To Go came on, and I dragged Ted back to the dance floor. We were having a ball, and when 365 came on, I immediately whipped out my phone and his so we could do that viral thing where you played the edit and the song live, and idk. As the edit ended, I moved the second phone to face Ted, and he smiled, putting two thumbs up. I laughed before ending the video. Giving him his phone.

It was then I realized I hadn't done my duolingo. "MY DUOLINGO!!" I screamed at him, seeing it was almost midnight. I opened my app and started doing my lesson so as not to lose my streak. Then Good Luck, Babe came on, and when I tell you, Ted and I probably lost our hearing for a few seconds with everyone screaming to lyrics. It was such a vibe.

But after another charlie song, we went back to our table where Schlatt was looking for us. "You okay?" I question. "I just got hit on," He says. "Who hit on you?" Ted asked, and Schlatt pointed to the exit to a guy wearing black jeans and a mesh crop top. I start laughing. "You alright?" I ask him, running my hand up his back. "That's the first time a guy has ever flirted with me," he says, a smile tugging on his face. "It was nice," he adds. I smile and laugh a bit. "Was it?"

"Yes, surprisingly," He says, and I laugh again. "Hey, at least you know you're not just good looking to the ladies but also the men" I joke.

"Does it really matter if there's only one girl I want?" He asks, wrapping his arm around my waist. I roll my eyes, "yea yea you simp," I say, shaking my head. I kiss schlatt on the cheek before turning to Ted, who is watching us an almost curiosity in his eyes. "Teddy, wanna get something to drink with me?" I ask. "I'm actually kinda starving, to be honest," He tells me.

I pull out my phone, checking the time. "You guys wanna head out? We can get some McDs or something on the way home?" I ask and they both nod.

"I'm ready to go" Schlatt says.

"Yea, me too," Ted says before we grab all our stuff and leave, me singing along to California, as we walk out the door.

a/n: I am quite literally half asleep while writing this, so I'm sorry if it's kinda weird. Also, I've seen a few polly Schlatt and Ted fics on my timeline so like, I think there's a little bit of that vibe to this accidentally, or I'm looking too hard into it. Idk like I said I'm half asleep. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!!!!

[sixzeroes]

🖇️ 7DREAM : tiktok trends (bf ver.) !

PG13 | boyfriend!dream x reader(f). fluff, romance, slice of life. non-idol au.

lmh | “let me raise a toast...”

mark is not an avid tiktok user—he’s not exactly into social media as a whole. but when he hears this certain tiktok audio coming from your phone, he can’t help but open the app to create a video of his own. selecting a few (of the only) good photos he has of you, mark posts an appreciation tiktok for the girl he loves the most. unexpectedly, it garners over one million views. (“hey, babe, why are people commenting about sleeping on the highway?”)

hrj | “if i was a… (according to my bf).”

both you and renjun like to spend some time on tiktok, sometimes creating silly drafts, sometimes uploading couple videos. when the “if i was a…” trend started going viral on tiktok, both you and renjun just knew the two of you had to do it. renjun, artistic with the most creative mind ever, gives elaborate answers (e.g., baby blue or hydrangea flowers), and your final product reaches well over 100k likes. (“oh my god, people don’t think the answers are real!”)

ljn | manga couple silhouettes.

tiktok is what brought you and jeno together. both popular influencers on the app, you naturally ended up hanging out with him. it’s only been a few weeks since the two of you went public as a couple, and since then, fans have been eating up every couple tiktok either one of you post. naturally, the two of you partake in this trend just for fun, but happen to gain millions of likes. and everyone agrees the you and jeno are the capital it couple of tiktok.

ldh | “bound to fall(ing) in love.”

your love story with donghyuck is rather cliché—the typical rivals to lovers who just so happen to have a deeply buried desire for one another. now, a year into your relationship, donghyuck is scrolling on tiktok when he comes across the bound 2 sound. immediately, you dash to his side to make a draft, forcing donghyuck to take part in it. rivals to lovers is cute and all, but rivals to lovers that happened in real life? definitely bound to fall(ing) in love.

njm | “i was busy thinking about—”

you are no stranger to jaemin’s affectionate side—in fact, you find it extremely attractive. jaemin isn’t very active on tiktok, but when he is, all he does is upload tiktoks about you. when he stumbles upon the remix of charli xcx’s boys and siri’s monotonous voice, jaemin quite literally trips over the carpet to make a tiktok. any chance to show off his wonderful girlfriend is a chance he will always take. (“baby, baby, act natural, okay? i wanna make a tiktok.”)

zcl | the photo crop filter.

chenle is a goofy boyfriend, and just like popular belief, enjoy making silly tiktoks—silly tiktoks that involve you, of course. after watching a few videos of couples fighting to either fit within or miss the frame, chenle begs you to partake in the trend. this leads you to sit in his gamer chair as he props his phone against his monitor. needless to say, the two of you have a little too much fun making the tiktok, avidly working to push each other into the frame.

pjs | “sorry, i’m not into short guys.”

everybody knows jisung at your high school; the tall senior with the pretty face and godsent body. you also know the popular guy, but for a different reason: he’s your boyfriend, and the cutest one at that. the height gap between you and jisung is attractive, and it’s one of the factors that made you fall for him (yes, you like cliché things). when the sound starts circling all over tiktok, you waste no time in having jisung lift your phone above his head and well above yours.

© NABI (2022); ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[unheavenlyvision]

hi queen im in love with your theme pls teach us how u make your dividers 🙂‍↕️🤲

waaaaaa THANK YOU !! 🤩

there isn't anything all that special to it,, i use the procreate app on my ipad to make everything but i'm sure there are other free apps that you could use to do a lot of the basics,, i know ibis paint is a free app and is pretty great :3

i'm gonna add a cut because i'm not really sure which divider you're referring to in particular but i can show what i do for these ones below !! 🩷

obviously you don't have to do everything exactly,, you should do things differently to make it your own or to better fit what you like !! this is just how i do it and how i prefer to do things (❁´◡`❁)

⁂ for the first ones that are just plain strips of colour,, i crop a canvas to the size i want,, the thicker one is 879 × 8px and the thinner one is 879 × 4px. opening the actions tab and clicking crop and resize and then adding in the dimensions i want,,, you don't have to do the dimensions exactly, you can eyeball it ! this is just what i do :3

⁂ then i pick out my colours for my theme and place them all on the same layer like this

⁂ then i open up the adjustments tab on the canvas to find the gaussian blur option

⁂ lastly, i slide it until i am satisfied with the blend of the colours :>

⁂ and it ends up looking like this !!

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⁂ for the mdni divider,, i do the same thing for the background as i do for the slimmer divider but on a bigger scale,, the canvas size i use for it is 1350 × 80px i then go into the actions tab on the canvas and add the text

⁂ type in whatever text you want,, you can fiddle with the font,, the size of the text,, add emojis and symbols and such. place that where you want it on your canvas and then i rasterise the layer so it is no longer a text layer

⁂ after this i alpha lock the layer so i can add another colour to the text that i like,, totally optional, this is just what i do :3

⁂ after that, i gaussian blur the layer like i did earlier but on the layer with the text to blend the colours

⁂ this is what it ended up looking like :D you can add the lines above and below by using hyphens and another text layer and repeating the above process

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⁂ finally, for the headers in my posts i usually just find an image of some kind of smut manga online,, twt is a good place to find things like this. one acc i look to is @/lewdkittymia but they retweet others posts too so you can find some stuff from other accs that way too :> ⁂ the canvas size i use is 1488 × 326,, i add a layer and do the same as above with the smaller dividers but the size of this canvas,, you might not be able to see the image under it in the beginning but that's to be expected !

⁂ after this is when i lower the opacity of the layer by pressing on the 'N' on the layer with the colours,, i use the slider to adjust the layer until i can see the image underneath and am happy with it and then it's all done !!

finished product 🩷

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i'm not sure if this was at all comprehensive or helpful but this is my process !!

if you were curious about my animated ones that might need it's own post but i'm happy to make one if you want !! i use procreate for that too !! (i have procreate because i draw so you definitely don't need to pay for the app just to do this,, like i said,, ibis paint is free and you could probably use that !! 🩷)

thank you for your ask and for complimenting my blog hheehfgbe always makes me giddy 🥰 i hope you all are having a good day/night !!