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#spontaneous collab?
pixellangel · 5 months
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this is the only logical way he can wear a santa hat. the hair inside keeps it upright at all times
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noproblemremoony · 4 months
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being a noah kahan fan is wondering which singer he’s gonna collaborate with today and we love it
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kpopfanfictrash · 5 months
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Jingle All the Way Collaboration
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Coming your way this holiday season! Whether you've been naughty or nice, you'll have seven fics to unwrap by @kpopfanfictrash , @leahsfavefics , @kithtaehyung , @yoonia , @cybrsan and @sugaurora.
All second chance romance. All holiday themed. All attempting to utilize the same quote: "The holidays aren't so bad with you around." Come down the chimney, embrace your inner Vixen, and warm up this season with the Jingle All the Way collab!
Content Creator: all amazing banners are made by the truly spectacular @kithtaehyung!!
(Links to be added as fics are posted)
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Title: The Ten Days of Ex-Mas
Author: @kpopfanfictrash
Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; hockey player au, second chance au, oh noo there was only one bed
Summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.
Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.
Posting Date: December 19th, 2023
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Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon
Author: @leahsfavefics
Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)
Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au
Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.
Posting Date: December 21st, 2023
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Title: Back to December
Author: @kithtaehyung
Pairing: Seokjin x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au
Summary: Ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind.
Posting Date: TBD
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Title: A Christmas Fix
Author: @yoonia
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+), secret baby au, s2l au, fake dating au on the side (more on that later)
Summary: One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.
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Title: Everwinter
Author: @kithtaehyung
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; ex-fwb 2 lovers au, second chance au
Summary: You told him you loved him, and that was a mistake. Because years later, you both meet up with your old friend group for a holiday trip, and neither of you have forgotten that.
Posting Date: TBD
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Title: Miracle of the Season
Author: @cybrsan
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; angel au, second chance au
Summary: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a familiar face pops up and you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.
Posting Date: December 29th, 2023
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Title: A Porn Star's Guide to the Holidays
Author: @sugaurora
Pairing: Hoseok x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; second chance au
Summary: Jung Hoseok was your first love, a relationship that ended only because your post-high school dreams led you down two very different paths. Yours brought you to Jeon Jungkook, an innovative talent agent promising to produce the most well-loved adult entertainment artists of the era. And that’s how you became an erotic market darling, doing just about everything from outdoor gangbangs to golden showers and a long list of kinks in between.
Ten years later and you’re ready to find a new path, celebrating your exit from the business with one last appearance at the biggest adult industry convention of the year. Only when you arrive, you find yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with your high school sweetheart. Suddenly, you’re forced to confront where the years have taken you and feelings that may have never quite gone away.
What’s a former porn star to do?
Posting Date: TBD
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“Robbie is gone! I’m still here! And I refuse to live in his shadow!”
Rastapopoulos himself may be out of the picture, but his ghost continues to haunt those who were caught in his web.
A collaboration with @aboardthescheherazade using her OC Marlene Katz - an actress Tintin tries to save in Cigars of the Pharaoh!
Five years later and Tintin is baffled to see Hollywood starlet Marlene Katz turn up at his doorstep asking for help. Formerly under the thumb of Cosmos Pictures, Marlene became an unsuspecting witness to Rastapopoulos’ criminal activity and now the mob is after her, seeking to tie up some loose ends. To top things off, she is due to make a public appearance at The Golden Palm, a prestigious film festival. After years of hiding, Marlene is determined to get her acting career back on track, and this film may be her big break.
Tintin is highly suspicious. Chang, on the other hand, is utterly star struck, and after noticing an uncanny resemblance between the two hatches a ridiculous scheme that may finally put an end to this particular problem. It might just work, but Marlene makes the last minute decision to also go undercover, feeling immense guilt over having Tintin and Chang risk their lives for her.
While Tintin is running around in heels and beating up mobsters Haddock is away on a weekend break with Ramo Nash. Before leaving he asked Chang to keep Tintin away from any incidents and to promise not to throw any house parties.
This was my first collab on this blog and I had a lot of fun bouncing ideas off with Vaye. Her blog was one of the first Tintin blogs I followed - definitely check it out, it’s an absolute treasure trove of resources and research! Below are a few notes of stuff we discussed while making this:
- After the Blue Lotus, Marlene breaks away from Rastapopoulos and pulls back from the film industry to lay low, teaching dance classes instead. He keeps trying to come back to her, leaving her exhausted and paranoid. Since Rastapopoulos always considered Marlene to be pretty stupid he never made much of an effort to properly hide his criminal activities from her, but Marlene was able to slowly piece things together...
- This adventure takes place after St. Benezet’s Basement (the boarding school story) and before Call of the Songbird (Tintin Fucks Up and Steals A Whistle). Tintin is still in the grips of trauma from the canon stories. Chang is starting to settle in. Haddock and Nash’s relationship is in full swing, but they are keeping things quiet from everyone else. 
- In some sketchbook comics I did to flesh out ideas there’s hints of Tintin being gay and asexual, his complete lack of interest in Hollywood actresses and his mild irritation of people’s judgements being clouded by crushes! Chang’s attraction to Marlene however, foreshadows his feelings for Tintin later on down the line.
- There’s a role reversal theme going on here. Both Tintin and Marlene are victims of Rastapopoulos but in very different ways. By playing each others’ roles they both can get a clearer picture of how Rastapopoulos hurt people, and therefore a better understanding of their own traumas. Tintin is usually spontaneous and rarely makes himself known, but here he is playing a set character. Marlene as an actress, on the other hand, is used to receiving direction from others, but circumstance pushes her to improvise. I can imagine her using her skills as an actor to get into character as an ace reporter to fake some much needed bravery!
- Marlene’s disguise is literally just stuff she pulls from Tintin’s and Chang’s closets. She’s wearing Tintin’s trenchcoat, dress shirt and suspenders and Chang’s spectator shoes, trousers and scarf!
- Marlene is a very skittish person but will be compelled to do what she believes is the right thing. As Vaye put it, “Marlene’s bravery under fire is that she’s like the one person in a room who’s willing to get a spider outside...” Marlene is also older than Tintin and pretty much views him as a child, even though he’s in his early 20s at this point. She feels incredibly guilty about what Rastapopoulos did to him and the fact he’s risking his life for her. She feels some level of responsibility for him.
This all started because I thought it would be cool for Tintin to beat some guys up in drag
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angeart · 5 months
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here's a spontaneous quick/sketchy collab! :3 lineart by me and the beautiful soft colours by @sygni <3
bonus sketch:
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bloompompom · 11 months
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Tits for Tat
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I hope you have a good idea about how you're going to pay for that tattoo...
✦ written for @bastardblvd's slimeball collab event! ✦ pairing: sleazy tattoo artist!eren jaeger x sweet sorority girl!reader content: ~6.7k word count. female reader, dubcon elements (sex in exchange for a tattoo), manipulation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, brief oral sex (m!receiving), rough sex, corruption kink, dirty talk/light degradation, exhibitionism kinda sorta, light impact play, mirror sex, explicit language, explicit sexual content, content some readers may view as dark. reader discretion advised. 18+
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The last thing you expected was for girls’ night to end like this. 
It was just past ten o’clock that Friday night. What was promised to be a night filled with gossiping over wine coolers turned into you and your two friends skipping through the uptown, loudly and practically elbow-locked like the best of chums. Or chumps, depending on whether the onlooker was a glass-half-full or half-empty sort of person. 
For any other twenty-something, the night was still young—still in its mother’s womb, actually. Fellow students had started their treacherous journeys across campus, sneaking from their dorms as if no one could hear the conspicuous clamor of bottles each time their backpacks smacked against the backs of their thighs. But for others—let’s say, hypothetically, tattoo artists—the day was at its end. And that was exactly why your little trio of giggling idiots was making a mad dash before closing time. 
The three of you had done everything together, and you meant everything. From ensuring you had the same lunch schedule since grade school, to surviving your awful calculus teacher senior year of high school, you were always at each other’s sides. If one of you didn’t have a prom date, then none of you did.
Like, if not for them, how else would you have gotten through that nasty breakup and lived to tell the tale? When your boyfriend, your first boyfriend—no, your first love—dumped you over the phone six months ago. 
You could talk about them forever, really, but all that was to say, they were your very best friends. Sisters in every sense of the word now that you had rushed the same sorority. So what better way to commemorate something as wonderful as sisterhood than matching tattoos? Little crescent moons on your ankles, specifically.
So, as one could safely assume by this point, that tattoo thing you mentioned earlier wasn’t so hypothetical after all. You stepped through the doors of the brick parlor on the corner forty-five minutes before closing. The studio lights were still on bright, and the glow of that obnoxious open, open, open sign in the window spilled red over the sidewalk, as if reading it one time wasn’t enough. 
The standee out front proudly welcomed walk-ins with big capital letters. It meant it too, because, after a brief conversation in the back, the receptionist said they had enough time to squeeze you in. The design was simple enough, according to her. ‘Simple enough’ still meant one hundred dollars, though. Shop minimum, blah, blah, blah. You each agreed and quickly signed the paperwork. 
You waited for your turns, sitting knobbly-kneed with hands folded neatly in your laps, eyes wide and darting from one another to the art plastered across the walls. 
Ten minutes felt more like ten hours, and yes, you could admit this sounded like a much better idea back at the house. But now that you were here, legs sticking to the plastic chair beneath your thighs, you realized how ridiculous this was. How ridiculous you—all three of you—were, looking more like you were ready for a slumber party than a spontaneous night out.
To be fair, you were just at a slumber party of sorts. It just so happened that your guests were also your housemates. 
What was merely an offhanded joke from your friend snowballed into the ‘Are we really doing this?’ conversation. You know, the conversation all friends have right before doing something you probably shouldn’t. If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you? 
No, of course not. But if the bridge was a tattoo, then the answer was yes. But now you were getting moony and hypothetical again.
Anyway, that was all it took (and some Pinterest scrolling) before you were on your merry way out the door and headed to the tattoo shop down the street—the only one you knew of. You even lacked the foresight to change, dressed in barely a thing since your bedroom lacked air conditioning and it was the balmy end of spring. You kept your arms folded over the Greek letters decorating your tank top, securing its neckline from slipping any further. You had already caught it twice before. 
You just wanted to get this over with. 
A woman you hadn’t yet seen waddled out from the hallway and, with a voice comparable to a bullfrog, called for your friend. With a tick of her head, she said, “I’ll take ya on back.”
She looked at you, then the friend still patiently at your side. Her left eye drooped a little, like she had a buzz going or something. “Your artists will be out soon.”
“Oh, actually,” you spoke up sweetly, perched a little higher in your seat. “We were hoping to get them together.”
Her expression didn’t change, her eye still drooped. “Listen, if I do that, then I don’t get to go home at eleven.” She leaned into you. You couldn’t help but wince. “And I really wanna go home at eleven, toots.”
Toots. You didn’t care for the nickname, but she frightened you nonetheless. You sealed your lips and waved off your jittery friend. Her mouth was more of a square than a smile as she looked back at you, nervous, and rightfully so. You wouldn’t want to be tattooed by that woman, either. Perhaps getting split up was a blessing in disguise. 
It wasn’t long before your name was called out next. By a man, this time. You heard him before you saw him. 
You perked your head and were greeted by a guy around your age. Well, maybe a few years older than you, but he wasn’t nearly as ancient as Toots. And at the very least, he didn’t appear drunk. If anything, his eyes looked a bit bored. 
For whatever reason, you took it personally. And while it was probably just the hour, you couldn’t help but think he was bored with you. Bored with your little outline of a moon that’d cost him no more than five minutes of work and you one hundred dollars. 
Twiddling your fingers, you teetered on over to him. He was dressed in black from head to toe, from the cuff of his jeans to the sleeves of his tee, rolled back to show off the tattoos littering his arms. Fitting, of course. He was exactly what you’d think of if you imagined a tattoo artist, albeit less burly and perhaps… prettier? That wasn’t the right word for it, but you could see it—see him—hidden behind his dark hair, messily tied back with sprigs and strands framing his angular face. Attractive in that bad-boy kind of way. Like, you just know your parents would kill you if you brought him home, but that was sort of hot in its own regard, wasn’t it? 
He looked you up and down, just a once-over, and you were suddenly self-conscious of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. 
“Eren,” he introduced once you were only a few steps away. He was tall and lean and loomed over you. 
You kicked yourself for it after, you really did, but you went for a handshake. It was an awkward move, for sure. Polite, but still awkward. One would think he’d take your hand just to shrug the discomfort off, but no, he gave you his back. Not even a ‘Follow me!’ or a second look or anything! And you definitely took that personally. You couldn’t say why you wanted any sort of approval from this man, but you did—a true people-pleaser at heart, as always. 
The back of the shop was larger than you had anticipated. You crossed through an open studio space, through the empty stations belonging to artists that, you assumed, had left for the night. You walked by each, passing rooms that appeared to be more private set-ups. Only one door was shut, and you discerned your friend's voice from behind it, then Eren led you to another. 
The room was only as spacious as it needed to be for a workstation comprised of a desk, two chairs, and stacks of drawers in the corner. Your eyes flitted over the frames of art on every wall, reminiscent of the front of the shop. You tried to match his style to the work you saw out there. 
Eren gestured loosely toward the chair in the middle of the room. You took a seat as he asked, “Ankle, right?”
“Yes,” you said. It sounded meeker than expected. You cleared your throat. 
He slumped into his chair, leaning his weight into it to roll closer to the foot of your chair. “Which one?”
You blanked. Seconds struggled by as you fought to remember which ankle you and your friends had agreed upon. One half of your brain scoured your memory while the other kept shouting, ‘Say something!’ because Eren was waiting for you to do just that.
He stared at you while you stared at your ankles. The silence between you grew longer and more excruciating until you finally decided, “Left.”
Almost like he didn’t hear you—or chose not to hear you—he barely glanced at your ankle before sliding even closer. You felt the vibration of his chair’s wheels against the tile, or at least you swore you could. You only watched him ghost the tips of his fingers up your bare leg until he was no longer near your ankle but at your side. He didn’t even touch you and yet you still had to suppress a shiver.
“It’d look better here, you know,” Eren said. He didn’t point at your hip but poked it—the little spot bikini bottoms cover. He peered up at you, eyes locking onto yours with actual acknowledgment for the first time that night. That square-in-the-face sort of look. You noticed the vibrancy of his irises, green and piercing. 
“I want it on my ankle. I’m matching my friends,” you replied, but again, there wasn’t much conviction in your voice. 
“What if you’re not friends in a year?” He reached for the box on his desk and pulled out two gloves. Between his words was the snap of latex as he tugged them on one at a time. “Then you’re stuck with a dumb ankle tattoo with people you hate.” 
It’s not dumb, you corrected in your head. If only he could have heard your inner monologue about sisterhood and whatnot on your walk over here. Besides that, his logic didn’t make any sense. Even if you moved it, then you’d be stuck with a dumb hip tattoo with two people you hate, which was really no different than a dumb ankle tattoo. But then again, fewer people would see it.
Still, the apathy oozing from his voice crawled under your skin. You sassed, “I don’t think that really concerns you, does it?”
“Whatever.” He shrugged as though he were indifferent to it. But if he truly were indifferent, he wouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place. Nor would he have continued with, “All I’m saying is that it’d fit the spot better.” He handed you a clipboard. Pinned to it was a cut-out of your soon-to-be tattoo. “And technically, you’d still match ‘em with the moon.”
He turned back toward the desk while his words lingered. You wriggled your ankle around, inspecting it, then looked at your hip. As if it were still there, you felt where Eren’s finger had been and used it as a reference to envision the tattoo. Maybe you should go out on a limb and trust him, considering he was the professional between the two of you. 
“Fine. Let’s do the hip,” you rushed to say. “Do I need to change or anything?”
He peered at you from over his shoulder. “You have on underwear?”
Your face went hot. “Obviously.”
Eren returned to whatever he was doing—you couldn’t see past him. “That works then.”
The moment you stood, thumbs looped under the waistband of your shorts, you regretted relocating the tattoo to your hip. 
Tomorrow was laundry day.
‘Why would that matter right now?’ some might ask. Oh, naive one, the reason it mattered was with laundry day just past the horizon, you were left with no choice but to put on your last-resort pair of underwear after your morning shower. A stringy, pink thong that you only saved for special occasions—aka exactly three times with your ex and the days you were too lazy to do laundry, like today. 
Listen, you weren’t a prude. It was just that you wouldn’t necessarily choose to show off the skimpiest pair of panties you owned to a complete stranger. 
This was nothing out of the ordinary for him, though. Right? It was his job, day in and day out. He’d probably tattooed areas much more private than a silly hip, a million times over even. 
But no, his attention is undoubtedly captured once your shorts were off. His eyes flitted from your face, down to your thong, then back to your face. And it certainly didn’t make matters any easier that he had to be crotch-level with you in order to prep the spot.
You didn’t dare to look at him directly, especially once you felt him touch you. More than just a finger this time, he curved his hand around your leg as he quickly shaved and sanitized you for the stencil. 
Your cheeks hadn’t cooled off by the time Eren asked, “How’s that?”
You angled your head around strangely until he pointed to the mirror behind you. You spun around to get a better look. He was right: the tattoo did look nice there. Hopefully your friends wouldn’t be too hurt by the last-minute switch. 
“Good,” you concluded, still shimmying and studying the new addition to your body. 
You caught Eren’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He was staring at your ass. Rather shamelessly, too, if you did say so yourself. He made a half-assed attempt to stifle the smirk at the corner of his mouth. You swore you would burn this damn thong after tonight.
You scuffled back into the chair while Eren stood up from his. He threw his gloves in the trash can by the door and told you he’d be back in a few minutes, that the stencil needed time to dry. When he returned, he smelt faintly of cigarettes. There was a waft of it right as his chair whizzed by you. 
He situated himself, which didn’t take long, and rested a freshly-gloved hand against you. In it was his tattoo machine, the needle held just centimeters away from your skin. Your body tensed. You weren’t nervous about the pain; it would be over and done in a flash. No, it was Eren that made you nervous. Incredibly so, and you were sure he knew it, too. 
“Ready?” he asked you before kicking on the machine, the whirring of it buzzing in your ears. He waited for your nod before starting. 
It hurt. Not bad, but the sting was very much present. You finally let out that shaky, anticipatory breath you’d clung to, but it didn’t dull the pounding in your chest.
Eren stretched your skin with one hand and guided the needled with the other. It had been so long that to be touched there, on such an oddly intimate part of you, felt almost foreign. Indecent, in a way, having only been held there by someone you loved—someone who, at one point, loved you in return. How none of Eren’s prodding was inherently improper and still it led your mind astray, craving something as elemental as the touch of another human being, even if it was through the barrier of medical-grade latex. 
“Done,” he announced. You sat higher up to get a better look. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
You responded with only a soft, affirmative sound. 
Eren gave you a rundown of the after-care process. It was the longest sentence he’d strung together that night, and you didn’t even hear it. It was garbled up in your head, words that you’d inevitably have to find online later. Embarrassingly, you were more focused on the placement of his hand again.
In your defense, Eren was a little more daring now with the needle out of his hand, or at least you thought so, with fingers smoothing low as he cleaned your new ink. His touches dawdled and left you flustered, wondering if he was playing with the thin band of your panties or simply pushing it out of the way.
You were dazy, only snapping back to it once Eren said he could cash you out while you gathered your belongings and redressed. “It’ll be—”
“A hundred dollars, I know,” you said. You scrounged through your purse for your wallet. You tried to hand him your credit card, but he didn’t budge.
“Cash only.”
“What do you mean cash only?” you questioned, more like barked.
That was a head-scratcher. “I’m not sure how I can make it any more clear.”
“Why didn’t you—I don’t know, say anything earlier?” You were upright now, stiff as a board—still in a thong—and verging into panic mode, waving your hand at the cluttered walls. “Or at least, like, have a sign?”
“It’s in the paperwork,” Eren said as flatly as ever.
The paperwork you didn’t read but skimmed—okay, even ‘skimmed’ was an overstatement. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
You sucked in a deep breath, let it hang in your chest until it hurt, then heaved it out. A very basic and very overt effort in collecting yourself. You fingered through your wallet. Then your purse next, every zipper and every pocket of it. You didn’t have cash on you, you never did, but you needed to stall while you hastened to think up a plan. Maybe you could stay and clean. Sweeping, washing windows, that type of thing. Yeah, that could work. 
All the while, Eren observed quietly, waiting for your fussing to settle. He was calm for someone who may or may not be paid tonight, and for some reason, it only ramped up your anxiety, like a suffocating hand around your throat. 
Eventually, your shoulders dropped with a very heavy—and very annoyed—sigh. “You want to see my boobs or something?”
Eren snorted. Snorted! The audacity of it, as if your offer was no better than a measly I.O.U scribbled onto a napkin. 
As callow as your offer was, something about it coming from your innocent pout had Eren’s cock straining in his jeans. It was a final and lasting blow, one he absolutely couldn’t take, not anymore. It was already enough that he had to bear the sight of you in that skimpy fabric you called underwear—had to feel your warmth as he smoothed over your hip. But now, there was just one more thing he couldn’t possibly ignore.
“I think you might want to pay another way,” he said.
Was he teasing you? There was a roundaboutness to his voice. A knowingness. It frustrated you. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Before you asked, he answered with his eyes. You followed them down not to your tattoo but between your legs. The darkened and unmistakable dampness on the front of your panties. Evidence of you permitting your thoughts to run with reckless abandon.
It was humiliating. Heart-dropping-to-your-ass humiliating. You squeezed your thighs shut. “Hey—”
“What? Are you too good for a quick fuck?”
You almost snapped back with a defensive, ‘No!’ but if you did, what would you be confessing? That you wanted to, and you wanted to do it with him? That your mind had been plagued with filthy thoughts since the second you felt his gloved hand on you. That the most thrilling escapade you shared with your last boyfriend was in the back of his mother’s minivan—which he still drove.
You were certain he could see it. See on your maidenly face that you were actually considering the proposition. In fact, the scale tottered toward that option. It was much more plausible than trying to bolt from the shop with a free tattoo. 
Eren leaned into you, his hand dangerously close to your thigh. He froze, almost with a flinch, before making contact. Skeptic brows crowded over his eyes. 
“You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“Of course not.” You said it with such force that it sounded like a lie. You had only slept with one person before, your ex, but it still counted. 
That damn chair started rolling again. Over to the far corner of the room where Eren flipped on the stereo, then reached for the dial to turn up the volume. You couldn’t name the song, but it was loud, and that was all that concerned you.
Your heartbeat, previously thumping in your chest, was now in your throat. The was anticipation there. Of course it was; you were about to sleep with a stranger in his place of employment. But it was more than anticipation, there was a warmth—no, a heat—throbbing within your very core. 
“Ever done anything like this before?” Eren asked.
You shook your head, opting to keep the minivan story to yourself. Truthfully, you didn’t believe you could speak even if you wanted to. Not with his fingers, now freed from his gloves, gliding up your thigh—nearly between them.
He reached underneath your chair to lower it. The surprise of the drop pulled a gasp from you, but when you looked up at him—realized you now had to look up at him to mark the hunger in his grin—your breath hitched. Then and there, it was established that you were the prey here. His prey. And the twisted part was, you didn’t mind it one bit.
Eren’s hand snaked between the crease of your thigh, skimming your panty line. He chuckled through his nose when your stomach instinctively flexed at such a chaste sensation. He toyed with your underwear, for real this time.
“Well, let me be the first,” he cooed, but his voice was as saccharine as artificial sweetener. 
He bunched your thong to the side to trace between you. If that alone had you sinuously arching your back, Eren couldn’t help but muse over what more would do to you. Would it ruin you when he pumped a finger inside you? What about two? And once he had you split and bouncing on his cock, how debauched would you sound then?
So pathetically sensitive. He had you mewling, no better than a tiny kitten, once he circled your clit deftly, with the flat of his fingers coated in your slick. Delicate and restrained hums spilled from you despite the way you chewed at your bottom lip, like you thought you could literally bite back the sounds. Cute.
Eren handled you with authority, his touch gentle but at the same time, you knew it would be permanently seared into your skin. He was intentional, even as he stuffed a finger inside you, knuckle-deep.
Your head jerked forward with a whine. “Ah, that’s—oh,” was all you sputtered, your nails digging into the vinyl of the armrests. 
He pumped a second finger inside you, expecting your wreckage but only discovered his own. Somehow you sounded more decadent—felt more decadent—than he had imagined. Silken and fluttering around him. Tight but still sucking him in for more. The thought of how snug you’d feel around his cock, how he’d have to bully his way in—
Fuck.
Eren slipped his fingers from you, leaving you panting, desperately clenching around nothing. The overhead light was unforgiving; you could see the sheen of your arousal dripping from his fingers. He stained his jeans with it as he palmed over the front of them, displaying his length to you in all of its glory. You swallowed hard. 
The look on Eren’s face was one you could only describe as lascivious. You wanted to avoid it, but to dodge it meant facing the tent beneath his zipper. It was far more intimidating than his devilish gaze, an impatient reminder of how deplorable you were for wanting it. 
“So you wanna help me out with this?”
He knew your answer, what with you already sliding off the side of the chair. He didn’t even need to ask. He only did because he wanted to hear your dumb, “Uh huh,” saliva thick in your mouth, as your sultry eyes heeded to the belt he had started to undo.
You wiggled your panties down and you kicked them off your feet. It was a vulnerable position, standing there between his spread knees as he unfastened the button to his jeans, the zipper next. His cock sprung out with a slight bob, like it was heavy. It made you achy. You unabashedly ogled, wondering how it’d fit, until he, like you, was bare from the waist down. 
“Turn around,” Eren said. He was unceremonious about it, even stroking himself as he watched you obey without so much as a complaint. 
Through your legs, you took his cock between your fingers, running over the length of it, your palm soft, your touch timid. You earned a sharp inhale from Eren, and you did just the same without having to be touched.
It was embarrassing, how you were no better than a touched-starved puppy. That even this—the tip of his cock nudging your clit, twitching in your grasp every time it threatened to dip inside you—had your thighs trembling. 
Eren splayed a hand over your back as you took him slowly, sinking onto his cock, reverse cowgirl, with a slight bend to your knees. 
There was a stretch. Enough that you had to grit your teeth. Eren was bigger, thicker, than your ex. Not to mention, it had been six months since you’d been dumped. Even longer since you last got laid. 
But don’t mistake that for a complaint. It was far from it, actually. You missed the feeling. The moment that knot of pain unraveled itself into pleasure. When a once-clenched jaw goes slack, making space for teeny, breathy sounds to escape. The burn of skin smacking skin, your ass smushed against the tops of Eren’s thighs once you’d taken all of him, little by little, until you were hit with a fullness. It was one you hadn’t experienced before, settling deep in your stomach and making your eyelids flutter shut. 
You lifted yourself just to let gravity drop you back down. You were languid, indulging in every vein and ridge of his cock, exploring the newfound feeling. 
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Eren muttered, the end of it nothing more than a drawn-out hiss. “You didn’t lie about not being a virgin, did you?”
“No,” you moaned. The rasp of his voice alone had you tightening around him more. “I’ve only ever been with my ex.”
Something about your answer did it for him. You could tell because he whispered, “Christ,” so low you barely heard it. He groped at your ass, spreading you, mesmerized by the sight of your pussy struggling to take him. 
When Eren decided you weren’t fast enough for him, already losing your balance with your flip-flops sliding against the smooth tile floor, he firmly took hold of your hips. He pushed and pulled you, up and down, working you over his cock how he wanted. 
“Oh—oh, fuck!” you cried out, unable to stifle the whine.
You jolted and squirmed for him. It was ruthless, the way he used you like a toy. But fuck, if it didn’t feel good. Good enough to scatter prickles across your skin, sweltering and shivering, somehow at once, in the cold studio. It was so much. Too much. You needed something to brace yourself on.
Bleary beyond belief, you couldn’t think of something to hold onto in time. Thankfully, it wasn’t you that tipped, but the chair. It rolled until the back of it slammed into the desk behind you. A few things you couldn’t make out crashed to the floor. Eren didn’t react.
From the other side of the wall—hopefully the far side of the shop—you heard a muffled, “Everything okay in there?”
“Just fine,” Eren replied, infuriatingly calmly, fucking you through it, while you writhed just to try and clasp a hand over your mouth. 
With the desk as support, Eren leaned back with his feet dug into the floor. His hand curved around your hip—not the side that he tattooed, of course—and flattened it over your stomach. He yanked you down, your back shoved up against his chest, so he could pound into you, deeper than before, with you pliant and at his mercy. 
You were an incoherent mess. Babbling at this point. Filling the room with pathetic sounds that didn’t qualify as moans and whimpers but whatever was even less than that. Ohs and ahs and chokes of his name, none of which you could swallow back. 
You’d never been touched like this before, have you? There’s no way, Eren couldn’t help but think. Not by someone like him, at least. Someone willing to take what they wanted but also knew how to give—how to get you off—in return. He wondered how far you’d go if he were to lead you. 
Eren snaked his hand between your legs, his skillful fingers navigating straight to your clit. 
“Didn’t think you’d like this so much, huh?” 
You felt every word of it against your neck, but you didn’t answer. He removed his hand from your clit, only for a second but enough to make you miss it, and replaced it with a smack.
You found your voice enough to yelp.
“I can’t hear you,” he condescended.
You almost wanted to stay quiet so he’d do it again, but you were eager to please. Always had been.
Unbelievably turned on, you rolled your hips against his cock, bleating, “So much. I like it so—ah—so much.”
Eyes screwed shut, you didn’t realize until you were halfway across the room that Eren had slid the chair. He had you turned to face the mirror, right in front of it. You were spread, wider, and on display as his slick cock pumped in and out of you. It was a sight lewd enough to be mistaken for a porno.
Your phone, resting on the chair behind you, illuminated in the reflection and caught your attention. There was a moment of panic. It had to be one of your friends. They must be wrapped up with their tattoos by now, left utterly confused as to why you were taking so long.
You hiccuped, “My phone. My friends. They’re gonna—”
For once, he slowed. You wrangled in your breathing but, naggingly close to coming, mourned the loss. Eren outstretched an arm and picked up your phone. Lazily rocking his hips into you, he held out in front of you. You went to grab it, thinking he must have been handing it to you, but he only needed to unlock it with Face ID.
You couldn’t believe he was using your phone while he was inside of you. “What’re you—” 
“Buying us time.” He tossed the phone behind him, back into the chair. He didn’t start fucking you again but said, “Get up,” with a smack across your ass.
Your legs wobbled beneath you but luckily, you didn’t need them for long before Eren spun you around and yanked you down onto his lap. His cock, still warm and wet from you, slapped against your stomach as he bunched your shirt over your breasts. He took them between his hands, squeezing them together for him to nip and suck at. You knew he was looking at them earlier. 
You tried to angle yourself to ride him, but he didn’t let you. Instead, he chuckled against your skin, “Look at you. Now you’re begging for it, aren’t you?”
Eren took one of your nipples into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You whined much too loudly for the situation, and he solved it with just two fingers, stuffed straight into your mouth. You gagged immediately. 
“C’mon. You can do better than that for me, can’t you, pretty?” His voice was like honey lined with acid and burned your stomach just the same. “Take ‘em well, and I’ll fuck you again. How’s that sound?”
His fingers drove deeper into your mouth, mashing down on the back of your tongue. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, but you fought past them. You suctioned your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue around them like you would his cock. 
He sounded no different from earlier when he said, “See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” With eyes keen on you, he slipped his fingers from your mouth with a pop.
Eren stood to his feet, but you didn’t expect to go along with him. You didn’t think he’d be strong enough to carry you, for you to swing around with a disgusting amount of ease like a rag doll, but he was and you did. He was so arrogant with it, so ungracious, that perhaps you could re-evaluate your self-worth because you folded to him. A submissive sound squeaked out from the back of your throat the second your shoulders crashed against the wall. 
Your legs hitched around his waist, ankles crossed over his lower back, as he pushed inside you again. He hiked you higher up the wall with every thrust, smushing your tattoo between the crease of your skin. You felt the hot sting of it, similar to a papercut, but it fizzled away the closer he coaxed you into coming undone. 
Without the bothersome swiveling of the chair, Eren pistoned into you unlike before—which, frankly, you didn’t think was possible. You collided into him with every snap of his hips, grinding your clit against his pelvis so nicely, sparking your body ablaze.
You didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of knowing he made you come.  Even as you felt it, how the low part of your stomach tensed with delicious blooms, you stayed quiet about it, tucking your chin to your chest. 
But you weren’t as artful about it as you believed yourself to be. Your chest went tight, your breath silent and strangled, and not to mention, you were clenching around him, pulsing like a heart. It was a dead giveaway.
“Comin’ for me?” Fuck. That tore a strained sound from you—how could it not? “Don’t be shy. Let me hear it. Let them hear it.”
Why did he have to remind you of your friends at a time like this? And why did you… like it?
You threw your head back, smacking it against the wall in sobs of pleasure. If they hadn’t heard your moans already, they had to have heard that. The blunt of your nails buried into his ungiving biceps as you rode out the last of your high.
“What a filthy little slut I’ve made, forcing your friends to wait while you come all over this cock.” He punctuated the last word by ramming inside you, deep enough that your toes curled. 
After you finished, Eren has his way with you, as if he hadn’t before. He fucked into your willowy body, your mind long gone and fizzy, without restraint. Now, you were only there for his needs.
He panted against you, riled up with his face burrowing into the crook of your neck. He was close; you knew because he made a few breathy sounds against your skin. Then he dropped you to the floor unexpectedly. 
“Knees.” Eren jerked himself off while he waited for you. “I wanna come in that sweet little mouth of yours.”
You scrambled to get onto your knees, and what a sight you were, like a faun on its newborn legs. Sweat glistened over your chest. Over your tits—which were out, by the way, with your tank top stretched beneath them. You had on just a singular flip-flop, the right one, without a clue as to where the other had gone. 
Eren lined his cock up with your lips. You opened up for him, your mouth a small and tight O with the plush of your lips shielding your teeth. He tilted his hips back and forth, dragging his cock in and out of your mouth and along your tongue. You could taste yourself on him, tart on your tastebuds. 
You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked softly until he cursed under his breath. He brought a hand to the back of your head and pushed you further down his shaft. His other planted itself against the wall to hold himself up while he fucked your mouth. It was rough, but it had you tingling between the legs, greedy and ready for more.
Eren groaned after a few erratic bucks. You gazed up at him, your vision glossy, eyes teary and far away, and he threw his head back. You felt him, hot and dripping down the back of your throat as you tried to swallow around the thick of his cock. 
He listened to you, whimpering around him, as he thrust into you languidly a few more times. Low growls of, “Fuck, take it, just like that,” erupted like thunder from the depths of his chest. 
Eren pulled out and smoothed a palm over the side of your face. He pinched your cheeks together as you panted, coming down from one of the biggest rushes—and certainly the best orgasms—of your life. He kept his eyes on you as he smudged his thumb over your lips, spreading them with his thumb and pushing down on your bottom teeth. You had swallowed everything he had given you. Satisfied, he dropped your face. 
You smeared the back of your wrist over your mouth, but it wasn’t enough. You used the neckline of your shirt to messily clean your mouth, hoping your friends would ignore the stain left behind. 
Eren had already tugged on his jeans though his belt remained undone. He ran a hand through his hair, now freed from its bun, the ends of it dusting his shoulders. You weren’t sure when that happened, but it was most likely your doing.
You didn’t know how you should end this. There wasn’t an eloquent way to do so, was there? There wasn’t a manual or instruction book to follow when you paid for a tattoo with your body. Paid for it with your underwear, too, apparently. You stayed quiet as you watched Eren stuff your thong into his back pocket like it was his.
“Consider it a tip,” he winked. Fine. You didn’t want them back, anyway. 
So after a business-like exchange of, ‘Are we good?’ and ‘Yep,’ all while Eren tidied his station as though nothing had ever happened, you left the shop still tasting him on your tongue—feeling him exactly where you had predicted his fingerprints would sear into your skin. 
Your friends weren’t waiting for you in the lobby but huddled together on the curb out front. It was well past eleven o’clock now. The shop must have kicked them out before closing. 
Bug-eyed and gawking at the mere sight of you, one of them commented, “I thought you texted me as a joke. I didn’t think you were actually serious.”
You had forgotten about your phone.
When you checked your messages—saw what 'you' had replied when she asked what the hold-up was—you wanted to die a little.
Fucking the tattoo artist.
Blunt and to the point and definitely something you didn’t want to share with them, even if they could have guessed it. You responded with an innocuous half-laugh. 
“Hey, I thought we agreed on the right ankle,” she inquired. She looked to your left one to find it was just as bare. “Where’s your tattoo?”
“Oh, uh,” you stammered. “It’s, um, on my hip.”
You peeled back your shorts to show them, and thankfully, they didn’t mind. 
The walk back to the sorority house was relatively quiet, and you blamed yourself for it. Only when your friend shook out her ankle and complained, “I can’t believe this little thing cost me a hundred dollars,” was the tension relieved. “Plus tip!”
“Right? And I can’t believe they expected us to have that in cash,” you remarked.
They stopped in their tracks—both of them—each shooting you a bewildered look.
“Cash?”
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asingleietsist · 3 months
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Art collab with @markdoesart4210 !! Very spontaneous but overall fun 😌 thanks for this
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OH HECKING HECK THIS TOOK SO LONG AND IM SORRY-
Like goodness gracious...
Anyways, GO CHECK EM OUT!! THEY'RE NEW SO SHOW EM SOME LOVE Y'ALL!!!
Back into the ether I go~
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heartririmu · 10 months
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DOPPIO X NIJI STREAMER S/O
fluff headcanons! | tw: none :) enjoy
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— okay so your relationship has to be kept very very hush-hush, yes?
— this means no one on one collabs, though if they do happen they are very rare (like for special occasions or anniversaries or something)
— doppio is… unique, to say the least. he’s very flamboyant and dramatic, but around you it amps up like 10000%
— he! just! loves you!!! he is so HAPPY that you two are together even if you have to be secretive about it!!
— there are moments where he slips up, such as during his doppio after dark streams. he’ll be going on and on about how kind and funny you are, how wonderful and genuinely gorgeous you are, how grateful he is that you two get along so well..
— ^ he’s a lot more relaxed and kind of forgets he’s live to thousands of people sometimes, so you have to keep him in check by either reminding him he’s live via DM or just going into chat and saying “YOU’RE STREAMING!”
— surprisingly it’s more difficult to keep doppio from revealing your relationship during group collabs than it is when he’s streaming by himself.. he flirts endlessly with you, always tries to earn your praise, and just acts really really extra lmao
— “hey hey, did you see that? did you? i totally got luca just now! i’m the smartest, the most talented, the most perfect boy in EN— right? riiighhhhttt?”
— everyone sort of just assumes you’re best friends, though some fans may speculate and even assume that you don’t like doppi because you two rarely if ever collaborate together! that’s not true of course, but they wouldn’t know
— outside of streaming, you’re a lot more soft with doppi, such as in private vcs and in DM. you try to keep professional in the nijisanji server just in case :)
— also, a good portion of niji en knows you two are together. ike was quite possibly the first to figure it out, honestly.. you sent pictures of you and doppio hanging out during a meet up to him and he just knew??? nothing gets past the novelist i guess
— genuinely doppio is so affectionate and sweet with you he may have to get reprimanded by management bc he is horrible at being discreet 😭
— baby loves you and he doesn’t wanna hide it!! but he also likes his job and he doesn’t want you to lose yours either! so!!! PAIN!!!!
— the rare times where you flirt back during streams actually kill him, he ends up jokingly swooning VERY loudly and may even dramatically fall out of his desk chair just for the bit lmao
— speaking of flirting, doppio 100% plays up his flirting with other streamers specifically because he knows you’ll be watching. it’s not to make you jealous though, because he knows better than that! it’s simply just to make you laugh <3
— taking a page out of the ex ID senpai’s books, doppio 100% spontaneously climbed in through your window one day simply because you mentioned him when streaming ONE TIME
— it’s shocking but also very hilarious to the fans, you were in panic mode for all of five minutes before you saw doppio peeking in through your window with a basket of snacks and a wide, happy smile
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bbsmuts · 11 months
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After-match Entertainment Ft. BLACKPINK Jennie
A/N: This was a request from @nobody516, rather spontaneous, but enjoy! I’m getting closer to 1k followers, keep it up! I have a special collab smut in the making to celebrate it. Also, I don’t watch much basketball, so I don’t know exactly how it works. I’ll do my best, though!
-상훈
Length: 1.3k
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“And it’s Yang with the ball, 1.2 seconds to go - HE SCORES! IT’S THE CRANES FOR THE WIN!”  Jennie cheered and clapped with the other cheerleaders as Yang Haneul scored the final two points of the basketball game. The ending score was 57 to 65, the Cranes had smashed the other team into the aether. The cheerleaders started up the classic Okeu Gongwon Academy chant as the buzzer rang out. While the losing team commiserated with each other, the Cranes were pouring cups of water and Bacchus-D on each other’s heads and slapping each other’s backs.
The cheerleaders continued the chant as the teams lined up and shook hands, muttered “good game”s audible over the continued cheers and clapping of the crowd. The opposing team filed out after a quick after-match pep talk from the coach, and the Cranes walked out of the gym towards the locker rooms with Haneul supported on their shoulders. Jennie and the cheerleaders followed, splitting off to go to the girls’ locker rooms, and the crowd dispersed.  Jennie lingered by her locker, waiting for the others to leave, having arranged to meet her boyfriend Minjoon after the match. Once they left to go home, she had a quick glance around to make sure no one was there before pulling her panties down to her ankles. Her and Minjoon wouldn’t just be hanging out, to say the least. She pulled her crop top up to the edge of her breasts. Checking herself in the mirror, she could see the sexy, teasing curve of her ass clearly beneath the small skirt and the rounds of her breasts under the top. Perfect.  She poked her head around the corner of the wall to check that there was no one around, her raven black locks falling around her head. She headed out and settled herself under the bleachers. No doubt Minjoon was having a party with his teammates.  After what seemed like half and hour, a figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted by the dim lights of the hallway.  “Jennie?” Minjoon’s voice said softly into the semidarkness. “You here?”   “Under the bleachers, Min.”   He ducked under the seats and crawled toward Jennie, who was laying on a large pad with her legs spread, the tiny skirt barely covering her womanhood.   He crawled across the pad, his hips automatically settling between her thighs.  “Jennie, babe, there’s been a bit of a…uh…change of plans.”   The sound of other, excited male voices, quickly getting louder, became audible from the hall.   Jennie looked at him suspiciously.  “What kind of change?”   Her question was answered when four other guys came around the bend and poured under the bleachers.   No further questions were asked as the other players removed their clothes. Something inside Jennie fluttered in excitement as she looked around at the cocks that were surrounding her. She lay back and let her head hang over the edge, opening her mouth for the guy behind her. They looked briefly around at Minjoon, who nodded, before taking action. One guy who Jennie recognized as Nam Su-Bin knelt by her head and thrust his cock roughly into her mouth, groaning as her throat squeezed him. She lifted her skirt teasingly. Another settled beside her and pulled her on top of him, gently sliding into her ass. She moaned as Su-Bin slid back into her throat, now coated with saliva and precum. Minjoon himself stepped forward and inserted his shaft into her pussy, which was now coated with slick. She moaned louder as his cock quickly found that one spot inside her that she loved most, a movement that had been practiced so many times it was instinctual. She stratched out her hands for the other two, and they gladly stepped forward and presented their dicks to her hands, which began stroking with well-practiced ease.  It was better than what she had anticipated the evening’s turn-outs to be. She had expected to go home with Minjoon’s cum leaking out of her pussy, but instead, five guys’ cum would join his. Minjoon pulled her off the other two and positioned her on top of himself, others quickly filling in the empty space as he fucked her. She lost all consciousness of or care for who was who as that familiar feeling of bliss rose inside her again.  “Fuck yes, Min,” she panted into his ear. “Fuck me harder…oh my god yess…”.   She loved this, being surrounded by cocks, invaded from all sides, no one and nothing to obstruct the pleasure and the raw desire, Minjoon softly groaning in her ear as he drew closer to his own peak. She lifted her head again and her mouth was immediately invaded once more. As her every hole was stuffed full, she realized that she didn’t just love this, she didn’t just want this, she needed this. A stifled shout of intense satisfaction sounded from behind her just as a sudden warmth flooded her asshole. It took her by surprise and she gave a loud “ah”.  The guy in front of her groaned and pulled her head all the way to the base of his shaft, spurting his load directly down her throat with a faint “ah fuck”.  The two guys who had orgasmed were quickly overtaken by the remaining two, and Jennie was filled to the brim again within seconds. Left with nothing to do with her hands, she pushed up on Minjoon and rose him, grinding her hips back and forth while she was facefucked.  Sweat gathered on her hairline as she humped him, getting dangerously close to her peak. She held it in though, determined to outlast the others. The one fucking her ass picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder until he too went over the edge. The second load of the night spurted into her ass, and she moaned into her deepthroating, shooting the guy’s pleasure through the roof. He pulled her to the base with some difficulty, owing to the sheer thickness of his cock, and she choked and coughed as his cum sprayed down her throat.  They both pulled back, leaving her to ride Minjoon.  “Fuck, Jennie, you’re so tight…” He groaned as she squeezed him, pleased with herself. “You feel so good babe…”     She lay down on him again, giving him control. He started plowing her with  relentless force, eliciting squeaks of pleasure  and high-pitched moans from her     “Oh my god, yes, yes, fuck, don’t stop!” She cried, face contorting in bliss as he jabbed up into her.  “Jennie, I’m gonna cum,” he panted breathlessly, his orgasm control quickly dissolving. “I’m gonna fucking cum, I can’t hold back, you feel so good, fuck-”      With one last moan, he tipped back his head and pulled her down on him, a clap of flesh-on-flesh resounding in the abandoned gym as he emptied his load into her tight pussy. The flood of warm cum in her hole triggered Jennie’s orgasm like a row of dominoes. She sat up and rode out her orgasm, squirting all over him. Arms trembling with post-orgasm lethargy, she slumped over onto his chest as the others picked up their things and left.  “I love you, Minjoon.” She whispered some time later, still peacefully relaxing on him.  “I love you too, Jen. You’re so sexy, it’s killing me.”  “Do you want to sleep at my house?” Jennie asked, turning her eyes on him. “My parents wouldn’t mind.”  “Can we continue the ride there?”  She smiled. “Yes, of course. When we get there, I’m gonna ride you dry.”  “We’d better be going then, it’s already seven. I’ll text my parents.”   “Good. I want to go to school tomorrow with your cum leaking out of me.”  He smiled too. “I’ll see what I can do.”        A/N: This was just a quickie, nothing long and serious, but I hope you enjoyed! Like I said, I don’t know much about basketball, but this wasn’t focused on basketball anyway. 
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ardensdolor · 6 months
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sometimes I think about married glamches (and their adopted daughter).......
(the 1st art is a spontaneous collab with lovely @thepeachushka !!!)
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nadsdraws · 5 months
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A spontaneous brainstorming session over a certain merfolk couple led to a surprise collab with the wonderful @sweveris !
Illustration for a fic "a tangle of desire" (be sure to mind the tags!)
Full illustration on my AO3
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Imma do this final vent and then I’ll shut up about it.
This was a dumb move, from every possible perspective.
In the og goodbye video, they really made it sound like they were doing the streaming service because they wanted to go bigger, make cooler videos, really see what they could do and let their creative vision take the lead.
Growing as an artist is what you do when you Already Have The Money To Do So. You don’t tell your audience “give me money and then I will use to it to make cooler bigger things”. That’s not a streaming service, that’s a kickstarter.
They didn’t have the numbers to pull a streaming service off either. “We think we’re ready for television quality content” no you don’t. Sorry, no you do not. Television quality content means 30-50 crew per project, means at least 4-5 production being worked on at the same time, and at least 4-5 productions being broadcast at the same time. Watcher has maybe 2 series they upload simultaneously and they have 25 employees TOTAL. Not even CLOSE to tv levels of content, who the fuck do you think you are???
Did they really think all 3 million of their subscribers were going to follow them on this? Including kids, whose spending is dependent on their parents? Including the casuals, who only subscribed for the occasional video? Including people for whom $6 dollars on another streaming service just isn’t an option? Why DIDN’T they poll this, was this being a surprise really that important??
AND why would you completely cut off another revenue? Even if YouTube is restrictive, it’s still another source of income. Cutting that off completely is… bold.
Especially since in the apology, they let it slip that no, actually, it’s because Watcher is on the brink of having to close up shop because they’re not making enough money with just the patreon, the merch sales, the ad reads, etc.
So… one of those is a lie. Or at least part of the truth.
But let’s assume they are in financial trouble, then this was still the dumbest they could’ve done.
Welcome to the entertainment industry where we follow 1 giant fucking rule: Kill Your Darlings.
Fellas, pals, amigos, bros, dudes. If your projects spend more than what they make, it’s time to downsize. Not upscale. Cut the shit that’s spending the most money, start concentrating on how you can conserve without having to fire your crew. Put the projects where you have to fly out and buy new stuff all the time on the back burner, you can get back to them once you actually have the money for them. Work with what you already have. You have a MASSIVE studio space, fuckin use it. You HAVE sets, you HAVE props, you HAVE talent and you have ideas. Start workshopping all the crazy and shit ideas you thought weren’t gonna work and start thinking how you could make them work with the lowest possible budget you can have. Your audience is there, they���ll watch whatever you throw at them. Now is the time to go crazy and see what sticks. You HAVE viewership. Collab. CONSTANTLY. Get it the fuck out there that you exist. A lot of people had no idea a patreon existed, mention it ALL THE TIME. To the point that it becomes annoying. Do it!
If your studio is becoming too expensive, get rid of it. Sorry, kill your darlings. Move some shit around in Steven Lim’s tesla garage, put up some green screens, this is where you work now until you can afford a studio in LA again, you dipshits. Editors can work from home, sound designers can work from home, writers and researchers can work from home, meetings can happen in someone’s kitchen or living room.
And finally: be transparent. Be honest to your audience and communicate. “We’re sorry to put Ghost Files on hiatus, however we can no longer justify the cost of traveling to locations.” The majority of your audience will understand and show patience. The part of your audience that matters will wait and enjoy your other wacky shit in the meantime. Hell, they might spontaneously start their own kickstarter because those who can, will want to support you financially, if you’re just hONEST WITH THEM.
As a business, you constantly have to choose between your financial stability and that of your employees, your vision and the future of your company and what you Want to do with it, and your integrity, the trust between you and your audience. (Especially that last one, businesses can’t pretend they don’t have a relationship with their audience, that’s not how business works, guys.)
When you’re in financial straits, one of those has to go. Watcher chose the latter, they should’ve picked the middle. Their grand television quality ideas can fucking wait, if money is a problem.
Look, I’m an artist too. I had a vision too. But it was either my creative vision or being able to afford food and rent. Creativity can wait, creativity will always be there once I can support it. Living comes ALWAYS first. Asking my audience to fund my huge artistic dreams though, with only the promise of something cool, NEVER even crossed my fucking mind. That’s what donations are for, that’s what the patreon is for.
They apologised. And good. But this was a dumb decision from the goddamn start. There were like 500 steps in between and they skipped all of it. And for what? For money? For grand ideas? For greed or for hubris? How many of their original subscribers are actually gonna come back? How much money did they lose with this stunt? If they really are in financial trouble, this MASSIVE risk -which is what it has always been- might just be their downfall. And it’d be 100% their own fucking fault.
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helshollowhalls · 9 months
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I have some thoughts. On Mysta's graduation. And the current state of Nijisanji in general.
At the end of the day, I am not surprised. I expected someone else to graduate first, hell I even expected Niji to keep more of an iron grip on their money makers aka Luxiem in order to milk them for more cash, but I digress.
Mysta is graduating and it only goes to show that their 'money first, talent... third? last?' approach comes back to bite them in the arse. This might be the potential wakeup call for everyone who has yet to realize that the entire English branch of Nijisanji is crumbling away in record time because of the absolutely abysmal talent management and treatment of the livers.
I refrained from speculating who would be the next ones to graduate after Nina - simply because I will leave that job to the anonymous leakers on the site/platform that shall not be named here. Apparently Shu and Vox were brought up as the potential next people to graduate (this is according to a recent Depressed Nousagi stream but he didn't show any screenshots so take that with a massive bucket of salt.) Mysta was allegedly also mentioned down the line, but he seemingly wasn't the first choice.
Honestly, if you think about it the entirety of Luxiem must be so done mentally. They didn't know what to expect when they signed up to become Nijisanji's first male English-speaking Vtuber group. They waltz onto the scene, explode in popularity all over the world out of nowhere basically and suddenly they're Niji EN's favorite child. The company is milking them for all they have because OH BOI do they rake in the cash - not to mention from a target audience that was completely ignored before in the EN corporate sphere - female viewers.
In a lot of things the boys weren't given any choice. Jazz On The Clock? The first ever second unit song in Niji EN ever and it was released even before their anniversary. With Luxiem being the fourth EN wave in total it felt a little counterintuitive - Wouldn't they start another potential wave of unit songs with LazuLight, their first wave? Well, now that Light Me Up is out and Pomu talked about the entire fiasco of LazuLight basically fighting management tooth and nail to be allowed a second unit song, I think most of us can guess how things are going at Anycolor. And in case you're not entirely convinced, just look at the amount of Luxiem merch Niji has put out compared to any other EN wave.
It's not just JotC, but their anniversary/irl Japan meetup stream as well. That stream was something that personally really rubbed me the wrong way because it felt very inauthentic. It felt like the five of them were just shoved into a room at the Niji HQ to play Smash and do some batsus while the executives and managers proceeded to lock the doors and breath down their necks for the entirety of the stream. The stream had a very different feel to it - Comparing it to other Luxiem collab streams or even other anniversary streams. Management didn't consider it necessary to order Obsydia or Ethyria to Japan and record their anniversary streams at the Niji HQ - Well, that would be because none of them make the company as much sweet sweet cash as Luxiem - Closest would maybe be Selen. And even she has been public about the management fuck-ups - I am talking about her outfit design contest here, of course.
But back to Luxiem. I don't follow them as closely as I used to in the beginning, infact I am only subscribed to Shu out of the five, so let's start from here.
The entire wave collectively tweeted very salty and sarcastic remarks about the official announcement of the EN 3D Live Concert being "postponed due to COVID" earlier this year. But out of all of them, it seemingly hit Shu the hardest. I noticed that he was streaming less and less, infact he still isn't streaming as much as he used to.
Ike... oh boi, where do I even begin. Judging from his spontaneous irl hangout with Vox recently and the amount of projects he has been involved in as a vocal mixer, not to mention his two recent songs of which one is an original, this man seems to be working 30 hours a day and is stressed to the max.
Mysta made his personal situation and his ongoing burnout/lack of goals to work towards very clear in his graduation announcement stream, so I won't go into detail.
Vox has also been streaming less frequently. During the course of his employment at Nijisanji he got diagnosed with ADHD and PTSD (I believe), started therapy and medication, had a panic attack during an ASMR stream, started new projects and also some personal issues in his private life to deal with.
I have to be honest about Luca - I don't really know anything about what is going on with him apart from the fact that he planned to move again and got a puppy.
In conclusion, I could see reasons for anyone of them graduating anytime soon. Management isn't treating them well - Management isn't treating anyone in EN well, it seems - and at some point that fact doesn't warrant staying with the company anymore. Plus, money isn't really an issue for any of them at this point I assume - Especially Vox and Mysta. Both of them have enough money to fulfill their potential aspirations as indies or under another agency or manager.
Infact, apart from a couple of livers I can see anyone graduating next because of how Nijisanji handles things.
Some may argue that it all started going downhill when they kicked Yugo or when Zaion got terminated - Regardless of what you think, at the end of the day, the entire branch is seemingly falling apart right in front of us and Nijisanji's reputation is tanking, especially with the English-speaking fanbase, while Hololive idly sits by and watches the drama unfold.
The consequences of Mysta leaving and the message it sends about Nijisanji and how they treat their livers can't be understated.
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yet-still-just-a-moth · 5 months
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We know why Freddie Mercury died, at least. It was because if Queen-Hozier Collab ever went into being, the Universe would go Error 404 and spontaneously combust
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braxlrose · 10 months
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Can you write about Bill having a partner that’s essentially like Avril Lavigne? That could be cool
a/n: I envy avril lavigne sooo let's do this, I scrolled all the way down through my asks and I never saw this so sorry this is so late!
edit: LMFAO IM SORRY 😭
also a shout out to @millzieraa cuz ik you lost your old account which was @krav3nn, so go check her account out you guys!!
bill w/ a avril lavigne wannabe gf who's like avril lavigne
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-he literally is obsessed with the way you dress. he thinks you look so cool and yall borrow eachother clothes all the time. im not joking, he actually thinks your style is the awesome and loves how close it is to his style
-he goes to skate parks with you and watches you do a bunch of tricks. like whenever you do one and do it really good he's smiling and clapping and all this shit. he also would love it if you taught him or tried to teach me how to do some tricks.
-if you do end up teaching him some stuff he totally shows it off on tokio hotel tv
-he also loves you a lot because you and tom get along really well. you and tom are a lot a like a tons of ways so he's happy that you're able to get along with his brother. he doesn't date girls who can't get along with tom.
-would literally dieeeee if you made a song about him. like he thinks your musik is amazing so he would love it if you made a song about him.
-he also writes songs about you. he can't help it. he's just so in love with you and thinks you're the coolest person ever. he loves you so much and will write multiple songs about you.
-one of the reasons he fell for you is because you weren't afraid to be yourself and didn't want others to hide who they were either. (let's pretend avrils music is music you actually make). like the song complicated, he loves how you just want people to be themselves and not change for anybody
-he also loves how fun and accepting you are. he likes people who are fun and spontaneous and you're just that
-totally does musik collabs with you and your band
-helps you dye your hair colors
-you and your band and tokio hotel go to parties together all the time. you and Bill both get equally drunk and just make out and dance together all night
-if there's a language barrier between you two, he'll figure out a way to communicate with you
-loves watching you play guitar and tom always gets kinda jealous if you play something better than him
-you two go shopping together at thrift stores allll the time to find new cool clothes
-is literally the best at giving you birthday presents since you and him have so much in common
-he gets your name tattooed on him
-he loves going to your concerts and watching you sing and play guitar. moving around stage and just listening to your amazing voice
-he also loves it when you come to his concerts, he gets so happy when he can see you in the crowd or if you're backstage and you give him a kiss for good luck before a concert
-thought it was the coolest thing when you wrote Sk8ter Boi (let's pretend it's about tom, and that the end of the song is changed bc obviously you don't end up w/ tom). but yeah he loved it and thought it was super awesome
-the band is really important to him and since you're in the musik business you're able to understand that the band is the most important thing to him and he really loves that about you. he had his last girlfriend break up with him because she said he didn't have enough time for him so he's really glad you're able to understand how much the band means to him and everything
taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @billybabeskaulitz
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leahsfavefics · 5 months
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All I Want for Christmas is Joon (Teaser)
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Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon
Banner: the incredible @kithtaehyung
Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)
Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au
Estimated WC: 20k - this teaser is 792 words!
Posting Date: Dec 21st
Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.
Part of the Jingle All the Way collab!
BEFORE:
Your fingers itched over your computer mouse, hesitating on the ‘click’ you so ardently wanted to make. Anxiety held you back.
“Just do it,” Melissa hollered from your kitchen. You smiled, impressed at how she sensed your hesitation somehow. Outside of your family, she’s one of only two people that could ever read you that well. Though you guess that now she’s the only person that can, since the other is your ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in over a year.
You took her encouragement with a grain of salt. She was always egging on whatever hair brained idea you had, ever since elementary school. This time, though, maybe she was right.
“It’s expensive. And I’d be all by myself. I’ve never traveled all by myself,” you whined in response.
“Bitch, it’s literally cheaper than it’s ever going to be,” she shot back, strolling into the living room and leaning against the couch where you sat. You couldn’t argue. The Travel Tuesday flight deals this year were insane. You’ve never seen a round trip flight to Europe be less than $500, and somehow the itinerary you’ve secured rang in at $386.00 round trip, taxes and fees included. It was probably a bulk fair with a million restrictions and you’d be fucked if you wanted to change it, but the flight left in 3 weeks. If you booked this, you were going no matter what.
“And traveling by yourself is not bad,” Melissa continued. “Obviously I’d rather be on a girls’ trip with you or on a trip with Taehyung, but it’s also really nice to not have to worry about anyone but yourself. Sure, there’s no one to take cute pictures of you unless you want to ask a stranger, but you can do whatever you want without consulting with anyone or taking their feelings into account. Craving sushi? Go get sushi! Want a nap? Go take a nap! Want to check out an obscure museum no one would be interested in but you? Do it! You only have yourself to worry about.”
You sighed. “You’re right, I know you’re right. But you’re so much more adventurous than I am.” Mel and her husband, Taehyung, were always going off and doing the wildest of things. Going on amazing trips around the world, skydiving, scuba diving, the list goes on. Whether they were a match made in heaven or hell, you weren’t sure- they rarely said no to each other’s schemes. They were happy though, and beyond in love, and that’s all you could ever want for your best friend.
“That’s not true.” Melissa said. “You’re adventurous, you’re just also nervous. Ever since…. You know what. You’ve been complaining that you want to get better at doing things on your own. This is your chance. And you’ve wanted to go to Norway for ages. You can’t achieve your dreams if you’re afraid to pull the trigger when the opportunity presents itself.” You winced, but it was the truth. The hard truth, but the truth nonetheless. And you trusted Melissa to give it to you straight when you needed it. Since the breakup with Namjoon over a year ago, you’d been wallowing. The two of you did everything together, attached at the hip since you met in your grad school apartment building the weekend you both moved in. You’d made it all through college, moving in together the second year of school into a nice apartment off campus that you still occupied. The study abroad semester Namjoon spent in Paris had been tough, especially because you’d only had enough time and money for one brief visit, but it wasn’t until college was over that things fell apart. Art History is a tough field to get a job in. You were both insanely lucky to land jobs fresh out of college. Grades and letters of recommendation helped, but still. It was unfortunate that they were across the country. You’d barely made it through one bout of long distance. You thought it better to end things rather than face that again, and with no end date in sight. 
“You’re right. I know how to travel. Namjoon and I took a few trips together. And you and I have gone on trips together. I need to learn how to be comfortable doing things on my own. I’m 25 years old. I can’t wait around forever.” You nodded as you spoke, convincing yourself. Taking a shaking breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and made that final click. 
Melissa squealed in excitement and pulled you in for a constricting hug that pulled a laugh from you despite your nerves about your newly booked solo adventure. “I’m so proud of you! And excited! You’re going to fucking Norway!!”
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