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cupidscrule · 4 months

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BUNNY TRAP

Stepdad!Leon X Fem!Reader

Cw - p in v, daughter chasing after dad, stepcest, noncon(?) Unprotected

WRD- 1.5k

You always knew your dad was hot, total babe back in the 2000's ever since you were a kid your friends always gushed over him, and it was fair, always thought it was gross though. Like he's YOUR dad, stepdad yeah but he still raised you, sure he had a cute face, big arms, his pornstar tits were an add on. But he was Dad, nothin' more, But fuck the way he cups your cheek when your sad, hugs you, gives you that awkward Dad kiss. Just makes you yearn for him, which is wrong you know it's wrong but it's like that itch.

Your friends are always tellin' you how lucky you are, not only is Dad hot, he's nice y'know? Real good dad, picks you up everyday, gets you real nice things. Best guy honestly can see why Mom picked him!

"Hi kiddo, you wanted to check out that new place-?" Dad said opening your bedroom door, stupid fucken smile on his dumb hot face

'bury your face in my tits'

"Oh no -! It's okay- really I'm real tired"

'fuck me till I can't breathe'

"Huh- alright, come down soon dinners gonna be ready, and sorry Moms not home yet she said she'd be here in a few weeks 'k?"

'i wanna scream your name'

"Oh it's alright, and of course dad!"

With that he left, shutting the door halfway, dick move but it probably wasn't on purpose, the smell of his colone in the room, only imagining Dad stuff you up. God your disgusting, this is dad. Fourth something year old DAD, since when did you have these thoughts about him, as a kid sure you always thought he was cute 'ohhb I would totally date someone as big and strong as my Daddy!'

But it was LIKE, not actually him. But you can't stop thinkin' about him, wanting Dad to shove your face in the mattress pull on your hair, do the shit they do in pornos. Nasty thoughts, feeling gross and hot imagining all the shit you wanna do with the poor guy, as he just stood there not knowin' thinking your his innocent little daughter who could do no wrong! Oh no she would never have sex before marriage! Oh no my little girl doesn't even cuss!

Yeah right Dad, mhm. Actin' like in middle school my friends weren't blushing over you, whenever you walked in.

Fucken idiot, your little girls not pure, she's not good. She ain't innocent, hell she fantasizes about fucken you every day. It doesn't matter, nothings ever gonna come of this right? Just walk downstairs, eat dinner with dad and go back in your room and sleep it off.

"Sweetiee you finnaly came, how was your day?" Dad says sitting across from you, he didn't even cook. Fucken liar this was clearly some bullshit from a 4 star restaurant he just put on a plate. "Oh it's fine, nothin' much." You say staring at the table, trying to distract yourself from him, how he smells, how he sits, how he opens his mouth, the way he moves his bangs out of his dumb face, his breath. The intoxicating feeling of just bein' near him now.

"Are you okay?"

"Why'd you ask that? You know I'm always fine-" you say in response, playing with your fingers, avoiding his gaze. God feels like a crush in primary school, messin' up words and giggling to your friends about the fastest guy. "You just don't seem like yourselfer Hun, you can always talk to me you know that?" He says, feeling his eyes on you, not in a creepy way more an endearing way which somehow made your entire situation worse. "yeah- I know, don't worry it's fine!" You mumble, lookin' up at him, god he really was dreamy, just wanting him to- NO no more fantasy's.

You finish up, so does he. He just gives you that concerned Dad look before you get up and run back up the stairs like a bitch and lock yourself in your room, typing into Google

'how to stop liking your dad'

'is it normal to have a crush on your dad'

'is it illegal to fuck your step dad'

Jesus Christ your search history, just laying on your side in your bed. Thighs squeezed together tryna' stop thinking about dad, you've seen him shirtless before. Yeah you felt a little hot in your core before, anytime he hugged you you felt so- just so warm. Not the lovey Awee dad and daughter warm, more like if your boyfriend hugged you nice and tight! Feels good, feels warm and fuzzy, pit in your stomach that can only be filled by one thing.

Tossin' and turnin' it's only 6:00pm shit, Dad's still downstairs probobly watching some old movie, he really likes thoughs for some reason, and westerns it's kinda creepy but your the one who wants to fuck him so you really can't be judging. your thoughts are too much to bare, a girl can only last so long on the edge, panties soaked thinking about shit, and hell when you can actually recreate what you want, Nothing's stopping you. Other then ethics but who even cares anymore, walking downstairs to Dear ol' Daddy, bingo.

"Mm- Dad-? Can I talk to you?" You mutter walking up behind the sofa he's laying in, playing with your fingers, how do even address this like,

'Oh yeah dad! Can you just bend your daughter over and fuck her till she's blubbering nonsense, you raised her since she was seven but y'know !!'

No.

"Hm, yeah of course, what's the problem bunny?" He says sitting up, glancing behind him to your miserable face, little frown on your lips. He raises a brow seeing your face, you felt all fuzzy feeling your throat get dry, the hell were you supposed to do?

"Uh Dad, can- can you come upstairs" you mutter looking at him, feeling your chest get heavy. Of course dear Daddy doesn't wanna disappoint you so he gets up and walks over to ya

"What's wrong, Hun?" He says, so sweetly fuck. Looken' all concerned for you, just fall into his chest, even though Dad was in shape he had fatass boobs, real nice to put your face in whenever he hugged ya. Just like always as a concerted Daddy does he puts an arm around you, pulling you nice and tight, "Baby?" He says in that same voice, pullin' your face away from his body, looking down at you.

"Can- can we just sit down" you say grabbing his hand forcefully and leading him to the nice leather sofa, you didn't know much about Mom but she really liked expensive shit and this was the only thing at home she bought..

You push him onto his back, his head resting on the arm, he looked kinda confused, like a puppy! You crawl over on top on him, ass rested on his lower pelvis. "Hey Bunny this is a little- whats wrong?" Dad says trying to carefully lift you off of him, awe stupid Daddy actin' like you're just gonna listen to him

"Dad just let me do this- please, you love me right?" You say looking at him in the eyes, pout on your stupid lips, he just nods slowly as a response. Unzippin' his jeans, wow this really is a shitty porno plot.

'Cute stepdaughter seduces and fucks her Dad while Mom isn't home!'

Jesus Christ you fucking creep.

With his pants open pulling out is fat cock, he wasn't hard which kinda hurt, you were being all cute and all dad did was just sit and stare in shock. Like sure you were gropen him and stuff but he could put some effort in it? Whatever doesn't matter-? You sit on his thighs pulling off your night pants, your panties were already wet from earlier, sadly it seemed Dad didn't really wanna reinact your fantasy so you gotta do all the work, flicking your garments to the side, crawling back onto him. Placing your hips over his Dick, and taking it in, feeling his tip touch your cervix "Mm- fuck-" you murmer, taking a second before getting used to it, slowly moving your hips back and forth, feeling ever little movement. It was euphoric, hands on his chest, looking at his face he looked like he was trying to not enjoy it, but you could tell he was. You felt his breath get heavier anytime you went faster, such a good boy.

His fat dick bruising your womb, your walls squeezing against him, you could hear Dad muttering curse words under his breath, made you feel kinda better about this whole thing. Going to your high and getting that numbing feeling, stomach felt warm, brain all fuzzy and messy collapsing onto him, feeling that warm stuff leaking out of you, pulling yourself off Dad, laying on his chest, glancing up at him, seeing his flushed and disturbed face, awe it was so cute!

He probably felt horrible but you felt amazing, fuck best experience. Putting your arms aside his

"I love you Dad.." you spout into his shirt

"Your Mother can't hear about this B-bunny.." he replies, putting one of arms on your back, you could feel his chest go up and down so cute.

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tiyoin · 19 days

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pt.4 | 📍pt.5

rewrote, edited and proofread chapter five cause I thought it was horseshit and you guys deserved more from me. 🫶

numb.

you tried to feel numb.

doing everything in your power to push down any kind of emotion that was ready to slip through your mask.

look ahead, stand tall, put one foot in front of the other so no one would know you were wearing a confidence coat that was 2 sizes too small.

don't breathe too loud they'll hear you.

don't step too loud they'll think about your weight.

don't blink too much they'll think you're fluttering your lashes at them.

don't tuck your chin in they'll think you're gross.

gross for what exactly? everything.

don't mess up the stepping pattern or else you'll look like a bumbling idiot as you try to get back on the rhythm.

don't clench your fists they'll think you're mad and unapproachable.

don't smile because you're not in front of a mirror where you can control how much you want to give away.

don't think too hard or else you'll become enraptured with your daydreams and you won't be able to take part in reality.

don't do anything with your lips or else some air will come in and create a sound that sounds similar to a fart. then they'll think you're extra gross.

all these rules you had to follow to 'be normal,' weren't an actual set of rules, but a lifestyle. you wouldn't get collared if you didn't do one of the rules, you wouldn't get yelled at or reprimanded.

you were okay. to your knowledge that is.

on the outside, you probably looked like you had a stick up your ass. always in a rush to get to where you needed to go. like one of those rolling backpack kids back in your world. whenever they would pass they'd take casualties with them. rolling over toes, pencils, teachers- there was nothing in their way they couldn't bulldoze through.

you were just missing the wheels and will of iron it took to be seen with such a… what’s the right word- atrocity, in public, let alone an all-boys school.

underneath the habits and self-induced numbness, past all the anxiety and fear there was a tickle. not an actual tickle, but a sudden feeling you couldn't identify. it wasn't rage or frustration. you weren't sad or envious... you think- it was something gentler than that.

something softer yet just as negative was infesting your heart and mind like a slow-acting poison. poisoning your thought process, your habits, your attitude, and your livelihood.

though the breeze and sunshine walking to class supplied your flesh with warm- there was a chill over your heart. the beams of warmth too short to reach into the many cracks and holes that were created. sometimes you thought there was a bug. a big, juicy parasitic bug that would suck away your hopes and feast on your memories. It had a sweet tooth that was for certain, only targeting happy memories as it kept you with the bad ones.

did you ever have happy memories?

there was nothing you could do about the pestering leech. it wouldn't go away with Kalim's warmth and silver's calm. two sides of the same coin.

but no matter how many times you flipped: heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails would never work.

yes, you would smile, you would laugh- put on a poor show to convince yourself and others that there was nothing wrong. Everything was okay deep down and inside your twisted little mind.

sometimes, you weren't sure who exactly you were performing for.

"why am I scared to laugh" you remembered asking yourself one night, putting down your jester's hat for the evening.

looking in the dusty mirror, your eyes carefully roamed your face, ticking off imperfections as you scanned every feature, scrutinizing every fold, and every slight bump on your skin. saving the most obvious imperfection for last, you finally acknowledged the brewing red horn ready to grow on the side of your forehead.

you knew it was a normal thing that teenagers of all ages experienced. but you felt especially helpless now, with the lack of beauty supplies and makeup. but with a quick brush of your hair, the brewing red horn disappeared behind some tresses of hair.

"I look like a demon"

...

"though if it was on my nose, i'd look like rudolph"

there was no punchline. yet the observation- not even an original comparison, made you laugh.

A tiny huff puffed from your chest. though the more you imagined yourself with deer ears and a bright lobster red nose, you could feel your thoracic region start to shake. trying to push the sixth sense of judgment the walls were giving you, you forced yourself to laugh. holding onto this artificial laugh as long as you could. you hadn't laughed in a while. hadn't smiled in a minute. you'd barely look at yourself in the mirror most days.

gripping onto the vanity you watched your eyes crinkle and smile stretch. tripping and stumbling over scattered objects in your room you were still clenching your stomach nonetheless.

you felt like a tumbling tornado. clumsily tripping over everything with no set destination or concern for the things in your path. a shoe got kicked up. a pen you remembered liking got stepped and rolled on. a book you read a few nights ago kicked to the door as you set your eyes on your bed. with a few more violent acts towards inanimate objects, you carried your shaking body to bed.

this was it. you were going insane, weren't you?

all you needed was a canvas and paints and you'd truly become insane.

flopping down unceremoniously you let it linger for a second. sighing in contentment as you stared up at the ceiling.

you loved laughing, it was fun! but you were afraid to laugh, to live. remembering Kalim's quote of 'Everything is fun when you make it fun,' you wanted to scoff at his naivety. but Kalim was right.

if you made things miserable for yourself that's how they'll be.

directing your mind back to your head, you blinked owlishly.

oh. you were so caught up in the daydream you forgot you were in the hallways.

peeking through bumping shoulders, you tried looking towards the wall to check the room number.

"shit"

making a giant u-turn with as many 'excuse me's' and 'pardon me's,' you rerouted yourself back to your class. never having walked this way to class you were a bit hesitant. what if you walked by it again? what if someone is watching you and making fun of you for being a daft idiot?

breathe.

but what if you're late for class? crewel will have your hide- skin? doesn't matter what it is cause it'll be his. what if they all laugh when we're late-

we're not late yet it's only-

but when we get to class we'll be late!

perking up when you noticed the assigned numbers to your class, you weaved through the chattering sardines and beelined it to class.

no bell. no expectant crewel. no eyes besides from the easy-to-ignore front row. perfect.

the sigh you were holding in finally set itself free as you adjusted the grip of your books, and you strolled down the isles.

don't walk too fast they'll think you're strange.

but also don't walk too slow so they don't think you're lazy.

head down absent-mindedly adjusting your books, you followed your hand's cue and put your attention on a fixed thing. aka: your books.

but to your relief, you soon found your seat. with a huff, you unloaded the cargo pulled out some loose-leaf paper, and started writing.

writing what? not even you knew. but it made you look busy and that was important.

you didn't lay around in bed all day. you didn't continuously scroll through your phone to distract yourself. you didn't cry at night looking at everyone's socials, wishing it was you having fun. envy bubbling like a nasty tar in your bloodstream as you scorned everyone for having fun when you're miserbale-

"y/n!'

"oow"

sliding in next to you was silver. hair disheveled and tie ever so crooked, though he still looked really good-

pervert a voice whispered. tensing, you looked around and saw no one paying attention to your little corner.

"I tried calling you in the hallway." his boyish smile eased a beat in your rhythmic heart, only for it to take 2 more beats.

"y-you did?" you gulped.

silver nodded as he organized his books. "Yeah, but it's so chaotic and loud I'm guessing you didn't hear me" you nodded in agreement, tongue slipping over itself as you tried conjuring up an excuse.

"I- uh I'm really sorry I didn't hear you. I didn't even know you were there! I was kinda worried about not being elbowed to death." you didn't know why you were chuckling at the end but it felt scene-appropriate. you weren't sure if you believed what you told silver despite it being the truth.

was he going to refute it? was he going to give you a once over and mentally think 'how dare they ignore me' because all the diasomnia students you'd interact with had that very haughty, entitled personality?

but to your slight dissatisfaction, silver only nodded in understanding.

"I'm real-"

"There's no-"

you both started at the same time, sharing a shy smile at the pause.

"you can go ahead" he nodded. Waving your hands, you disagreed. "you were talking first, I'm sorry, go ahead"

even though you gave the green light, silver still heisted to go. giving the air another few seconds before he started talking.

"there is no need to ask for forgiveness. I understand if you couldn't hear me, I'm not the most vocal after all. if only sebek were here" he mulled the last part. wincing at the name, you wanted to pinch yourself for slipping up. damnit you showed that you didn't like a person he was friends with- he'll hate you now. you're screwed, you screwed yourself. don't you understand that he's probably planning on running to sebek as soon as you leave? then everyone in diasomnia is going to hate you-

you nodded, tiny little yellow sponges in white shirts and red ties ran around your brain as a fire roared throughout- wherever they were inside your head.

you tried to push the flood of incoming thoughts into a box, a big red crate with a crab lock to be exact. you were feeling antsy, looking for anything to focus on besides the silver-haired upperclassman in front of you.

sometimes you wish you were a computer. unable to feel and to only run on logic. it seems easier that way.

a thought bubble popped into your brain like an internet pop-up ad.

did they even have computers in twisted wonderland? duh of course they do, they have phones after all.

the thought of twisted wonderland's technology started to swarm and hijack your train of thought. effectively taking out the conductor and changing its course.

did they also have an Industrial Revolution like the United States had? what was the start of it? which kingdom had it first? was there something to set off the alleged revolution? How is it the same and how is it different from your world's?

did magic have allay in it? of course, it did. but how did magic make it different than-

"y/n"

snapping your head at the familiar voice. you looked to silver. only able to take in physical information as the new conductor saw a hole in the tracks, pulling the breaks almost immediately.

"you okay there?"

slowly you nodded, as a few members of the hijacking team jumped out of the train- some ideas and questions with it.

"yeah.. sorry about that, kinda got lost in my train of thought there"

nodding with understanding, silver started talking about how he would sometimes start nodding off when he was talking to someone. half paying attention, half trying to save the train- your brain was split in half as you took in all internal and external information.

until you heard the magic words everyone loves to hear: "what were you thinking ab-"

"The Industrial Revolution"

"... pardon?"

anddd you failed, the train fell into the deep deep gorge that the tracks would normally allow the said train to glide over... but alas! they were gone! blown to smithereens as it guided the train into the deep cavern. a big explosion followed soon after.

"dont worry about it" you brushed him off. saved by the bell as Crewel stood up, riding crop in hand yelling out orders like a drill sergeant.

silver scooted closer. you scooted back, the original distance between you two doubling. you were focused on writing your name, date etc & etc, on another loose-leaf paper.

the dreamy-eyed second-year made some noises before he knew what he was going to say. he started softly "are you okay"? but then grew slightly louder as unease set in "from... last class? I mean I know yuu told me it was a touchy subject but... i just wanted to check in"

your pencil screeched to a halt as the words 'yuu told me-' chanted in your head. it was the only thing you could focus on because what did he mean 'yuu said-'. "what did yuu say." you spoke, voice stable for the first time that morning.

silver's tongue tied itself as he fixed his hair a bit. "well..." he straightened up slightly, "after you stormed... no, escape is a better word. after you escaped the classroom yuu followed before i could. but crewel ended up stopping me before i could even move. and i asked yuu what happened the next time i saw them and asked how you were doing.. to sum it up: they told me you get nervous around new people soo"

dread set over you like a fast-approaching shadow.

oh no. he thinks you're a weird socially inept loser doesn't he? he thinks you're some kind of loser that doesn't go out weekends, weekdays, any day for all that matter. he probably makes fun of you with sebek. right?

"ah well," you cleared your throat. a lie already on the tip of your tongue "I mean it's like- a yes and no kinda thing. I didn't have a lot of guy friends when I was younger so being thrust" you thrust your hands in emphasis "into an al guys school has been quite the adjustment."

quickly, your mind conjured up a painting of a small house in a meadow filled with wildflowers. it was the only thing you could see for miles. it was a nice house with a straw roof, a smoking brick chimney, and a little garden outback. the only problem with the house is that you blew it up.

with nuclear missiles.

and the intensity of the blast was so strong that it created a small crater in the earth, no traces of the house were left as it's entire existence was reduced to ash and rubble all because of you.

the urge to bash your head into the nearest wall like intruding hornets slipping through a crack in an attic to terrorize a small family. there goes your social life right?? what soil life? you killed it before you could even nurture it!

your mouth and mind were running on autopilot while your conscience went blank.

your mouth was a fountain that spewed water everywhere. trying to get yourself out of the hole you dug yourself- crater, more specifically.

"but uhhh yeah, no you're good! you're different and I'm quite glad I got partnered with you since you're not as..."

"boisterous?" silver quipped.

you nodded. silver chuckled, leaning further away from you. "yeah me too. if I got paired with one of your friends only the sevens know how much damage that'll do to my physical and mental well-being"

you both discreetly looked over at the rest of the class watching as all pairs seemed to be in some kind of chaos. whether it's floyd being impulsive, grim trying to add the wrong chemical into a potion. (you didn't even need to know what they were making to know that whatever he's trying to sneak in- doesn't belong there.)

and you were thanking whatever god the people of twisted wonderland worshipped that you weren't paired with one of the adeuce combo. ace would try to take control of the project, pretending he knew what he was doing while simultaneously giving you backhanded compliments on your intelligence. only to ruin the entire project and somehow find a way to blame you for it.

meanwhile, deuce and you would be two peas in a squished pod: not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and ultimately winging it as you tried to match your hot barbie pink potion to crewel's muted blush potion. knowing the both of you, it would end up navy blue and when crewel went to fix it he would add a pinch of fleabane- a literal pinch, and it'd be fixed. embarrassing the both of you for all eternity.

"I wonder which group is gonna blow up the lab first mused quick to shut your lips, you were quick to wish for a sewing kit to forcefully shut you up.

but a small voice whispered 'it's better to take risks than stay comfortable.'

and silver seemed... nice.

silver looked out at the crowd for a moment longer, turning to you he started slowly, "while the yuu, grim, and ace trio seem to be the most obvious choice...." he thought carefully, "epel and deuce seem to be at a loss of what to do and are about 6 shade off. which surprised me since epel is in pomfiore"

"he's actually sh- really-" you started again, taking a moment to think over what you were going to say "I heard that epel's not that great at potions despite being under vil's careful watch...." silver's eyes widened, replying with a soft 'really?' as he looked back to the groups with newfound interest.

you to yourself "never judge a book by its cover" you shrugged, immediately turning to your work. anxiously, you waited for a response.

although circumstances are vastly different- is this how people felt when in the talking stage? if so it was a dreadful experience.

before your pessimistic thoughts could even start, silver responded with a chuckle, enviably agreeing with your statement. you could almost sweat with relief as an invisible weight got lifted from your shoulders.

silver seems nice...

a new voice, meek and unsteady although louder than the usual pessestimic ones in control. and for once, you allowed yourself to feel the slight comfortable tingle it gave you.

the hope and drive to that you haven't felt or experienced in a while.

you wished to get closer to him.

taglist : @abell2029cluster @a1-ic3 @ars-tral @xingyunny @creamsweets @skei2p @dn4su @jjsmeowthie @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @nefe-kav @d3sperate-enuf @y2unagiz @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @mel-star636 @7yu @lucky-whispers

#twisted anxiety 🌀#I was low-key ashamed with the last chapter ngl despite all your comments. I hope this makes up for it 🫶#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin 🔎#azul x reader #silver x reader #malleus x reader #idia x reader #vil x reader #leona x reader

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

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Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), DUBCON, dark themes, monster fucking, cunnilingus, fingering f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, mild anal play f receiving, dirty talking, degradation, squirting, crying, pussy slapping, spanking, face slapping, creampie, praise kink, biting, blood play, blood kink, no aftercare.

Word Count | 3.7k

A/N | just a lil something since it's halloween, it's only fair we delve into something a bit spooky and out of the ordinary. can't lie i've mortified myself this time but i'm so into it.

"Where have you been all my life?" A figure slides up beside you where you stand at the drinks table, cup in hand filled with some gross 'Halloween Punch' that Harrington had promised tasted good (it didn't), some shitty Blondie tune playing loud in the background, mostly drowned out by the rowdy noise of the party.

You turn your head to glance at said figure, to find Eddie Munson standing there with a smirk on his red stained lips. He's a vampire (you think?), albeit a fantastic one. You had to admit his costume was great as you drank in his appearance. He really had gone all out, red horns poking out from beneath his bangs, large black bat wings fanned out across his back, fingers dusted charcoal and he'd even gone to the trouble of sticking on impossibly long talon-like nails.

His actual outfit could be considered normal, a black button down silk shirt on his torso, two buttons open to reveal a chain dangling from his neck, what looked to be fake bite marks chomped into the surrounding skin. A simple pair of ripped jeans and white trainers to finish the look off, but you could forgive him for the lack of detail in the actual clothes with how good his prosthetics were.

"What are you supposed to be?" You ask, furrowed brows as you brush your hand out to touch his wings, feeling the soft, leathery texture under your fingertips. It feels expensive, which was weird because you were so sure Eddie was dirt poor. Maybe you were wrong.

"I suppose you could call me a vampire-bat hybrid?" Eddie smirks, and you bite your glossy red lip when you see the two crystal white fangs sparkle in the light. Fangs had always done it for you, really, there was something about vampires that got you all hot and bothered.

"Looks good," You say eventually, voice strained as you bring your cup up to your mouth and swig a little of the absolutely vile concoction. You screw your face up in disgust as you swallow, trying to ignore the way the liquid almost comes back up as fast as it goes down.

Eddie crowds into your space, leaning over you to grab a bottle of Bud sat just inches from where you were. Your breath hitches at the feeling of him so close to you, his scent and the cold coming from his body enough to make you feel dizzy.

There was something off about him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. You admittedly hadn't seen Eddie Munson since you graduated in '84 and left Hawkins rather abruptly to study across the country. But you remembered him being a little warmer than this, a little shyer, a little more human.

You stand there awkwardly for a moment longer before excusing yourself to the bathroom, feigning that you needed to rearrange your costume - a party city zombie cheerleader outfit, not exactly enough to leave much to the imagination, and not really an outfit that needed fixing, but Eddie takes your word for it, and you bounce off without another word.

Knowing Steve well enough, you sneak into his room to use his own private bathroom, any party goers being schmucks and using the main bathroom that had a queue the size of Hawkins outside of it. You were surprised he wasn't in there himself with some girl, the room completely void of human life.

You give yourself a second, brushing out your skirt and pulling your ponytail tight. The costume wasn't a far cry from your days at Hawkins High, you were an it girl in those days after all. Not head cheerleader, but on the team - people had liked you more for other reasons.

You unclick the lock on the bathroom door, pulling it open to come face to face with the person you'd ran away from. You jump out of your skin a little, Eddie's face lit up with a little smirk at the reaction he elicits from you. You furrow your brows and shut the door behind you, making to leave without a word, but he won't let you.

It truly was dizzying being up this close to Eddie, his body crowding in on yours and backing you up against Steve's door, and you swear you see his wings curl in too but that could be from the one too many drinks you'd plied yourself with.

"Are you scared of me?" Eddie asks, picking up on the way your heart races and thuds loudly beneath your ribcage, making his fangs ache and his head cloudy with need to sink in and taste the wet, metallic gush of your blood.

"N-no," You stutter, head lulling to the side a little to invite him in, to let him nuzzle his nose in and smell you properly, which he does so gratefully, the pointed edges of his fangs sliding out to graze at your goosebump riddled skin, making you shiver, "does... does anybody know?"

Eddie huffs out a little laugh against your skin, fangs disappearing so he can press a sweet kiss to your neck, "Know what? Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

You gasp out loud at the feeling of Eddie's lips on you, the way his big hands come out to grasp at your hips and hold you in place, "I don't - I don't know, Eddie. You don't seem like yourself. You're not the guy I remember."

Your head is hazy, a mixture of alcohol and whatever weird spell Eddie was putting on you enough to have you confused and doubting yourself. Maybe you truly were just crazy and making this up in your drunk brain, but you were almost positive you knew what was going on here. It terrified you, and you wanted to back away, but it was like your feet were planted firmly in their place, glued down and rendering you unable to run.

Eddie smirks against your neck, hand running from your hip to brazenly slide under your skirt, and you can't help but notice his nails have somehow disappeared, soft pads of his fingers running along your clothed folds, "Your soaking wet pussy tells me you like this though, sweetheart. So wet you're drenching your panties for me."

You shiver, a moan escaping your lips as he moves your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cool air. His cold fingers expertly find your clit right away, rubbing it in slow, hard circles that have you mewling.

Your whole body feels like it's on fire, a sensation you've never felt as Eddie assaults your cunt with his fingertips, you're trapped in a trance that you can't pull yourself out of, all of your senses rushing with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Your hands come out to grip at his hair, fingertips accidentally knocking one of his horns and he growls, snapping back from his place in your neck to stare you down with hard eyes, fingertips stuttering on your clit and suddenly he's slapping your cunt hard. You let out a shocked, high-pitched moan at the harsh sting vibrating through your folds and your bundle of nerves, leaving you in a cold sweat and your legs almost buckling.

"Hands to your fucking self, I'm in charge here." Eddie's voice is quiet, but his words come out so harsh and venomous that it frightens you, though your cunt clenches uncontrollably, like it has a mind of its own, "Go lie on the fucking bed and spread your legs like the whore you are."

You do it wordlessly and without question, your legs moving before your brain can comprehend it, like you're under a spell. At this point, you're wondering if you are, because the real you wasn't like this - she doesn't let herself be bossed around, she doesn't allow men to touch her without her say so. You know it's bad, yet you can't stop it, because it doesn't feel wrong in the way it should.

Steve's bed is big and plush, nothing less could be expected of him really, and you sink into it, propping yourself up on your elbows so you didn't feel so vulnerable, spreading your legs wide like Eddie commanded of you. He creeps towards you like a predator stalking his prey, his dark eyes almost black now and something behind them that you can't quite pinpoint.

In the dim light Eddie's skin appears to be flushed a deep red that almost looks supernatural, like he'd covered himself in oil paints. He grabs a tight hold of your ankles and pulls them, yanking you down the bed until your ass is almost over the edge. You watch him in awe as he kneels on the floor in front of you, head going under your short skirt.

"You won't be needing these." He mutters against the insides of your thighs, then you feel and hear him ripping at the lacey material of your panties. They fall in tatters to the floor, discarded to be long forgotten about.

You gasp as he plants wet, sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, and you feel the points of his fangs brush the skin just hard enough to feel like a papercut. Your fingers clench into the sheets, blown away by how even the slightest touch has you a wet, whimpering mess for him.

"Your cunt smells so fuckin' good," Eddie groans, nestling his nose in between your folds and inhaling deep, "so sweet, just like the rest of you. Good enough to eat."

"Wha-" Your voice dies in your throat as Eddie's long pointed tongue comes out to lick a stripe up the seam of your pussy. He finds your clit as fast with his tongue as he did with his fingers, latching on and suckling at it hard.

The noises escaping you are sad and pathetic, truly, for all it is he's actually doing. You're moaning like you'd never been touched in your life, begging and pleading, "Eddie, please, fuck."

Your hips buck into his face of their own accord and Eddie growls against your cunt, his big hand coming up to shove your hips back down, forearm laying across the width of your pelvis to hold them down so you couldn't move. You can't even focus enough to brace yourself for two of his fingers from the opposite hand circling your entrance and sliding in to the hilt until it's too late.

The slick sounds of your wet cunt being assaulted by Eddie's mouth and fingers fill your senses, making you gush even wetter and clench around his thick fingers. They're so deep you can feel his rings catching on your hole and breaching slightly, it's enough to have you feeling dizzy with want and need.

Your arms finally give out and you fall flat against the bed, mewling and eyes pricking wet with tears as the pads of Eddie's fingers run along your spongey spot and don't let up. You can feel your orgasm building quickly, tummy winding tight and the hot heat spreading through your whole body.

Eddie's mouth is utterly sinful, his tongue working your clit expertly like he'd done this a thousand times before, like something straight out of a porn flick. Your body succumbs to him like you're his for the taking, like his fingers were meant to be buried deep in your cunt forever and his mouth was made specifically for you.

You come so hot and fast you're crying, sobbing wetly, moaning and thrashing uselessly as Eddie's fingers are forced out of you from the sheer power of it - all he does is bury his face harder in your cunt in retaliation. You gush wet and hard enough that you hear it trickling onto the hardwood floor in front of Eddie's knees, feel it run down your ass.

Eddie licks you clean, sharp tongue running all the way down to your asshole and even sucking you dry there, big hands moving to spread your cheeks and shove his face in. In your state you can't find it in you to be embarrassed or feel disgusted, your body feeling like jelly and placid enough that Eddie could do whatever he wanted and get away with it.

You're so out of it that you don't realise Eddie moving you up the bed and tearing your shirt off until he's hovering between your legs and your tits are on full display. He leans down to lick and bite at the round of your left breast, his large hand grabbing the other and kneading it. His wings are encasing you both now, enough to shield you from view if anyone were to walk in.

The wetness of your tears roll down the sides of your face and pool in your ears and hair. Somewhere in your subconscious you're begging him to stop, but your body is keening into him, and your lips betray you with the noises of content that fall from them.

You make to lift your hands up to shove him away, but Eddie's reflexes are incredible and his own hands come out to grasp at your wrists and force them down onto the bed, holding you down tightly. You try to thrash around but it dies when Eddie bares his fangs and sinks them into the flesh of your tit.

The feeling that overcomes you is something you'd never felt before, your body flushes hot like you have a high fever, your skin prickling with want as your tummy coiled up in knots. Eddie drinks from you in silence, the only noises to be heard are the slight slurp of wetness from your dripping blood and the moans escaping your lips.

You come again. Hard, hot and fast. Not a single part of Eddie's body near your cunt, yet you're shuddering and gushing wet on the bed, enough to soak the comforter beneath your legs and ass.

It feels wrong, your pussy clenching around nothing and your body wracking with aftershocks. Eddie's fangs retract and he's smirking against your skin, tongue lapping up the blood still trickling from the wounds on your breast.

"Dirty fuckin' slut, coming just from my fangs in you. You're so fucking easy for it, what a silly little girl." Eddie laughs at you and you're crying again, squeezing your eyes shut as he mocks you, but you like it, you're so ashamed you can't stop the tears from falling.

Eddie roughly grips your chin, shaking you a little until you open your eyes. You're mortified by the sight in front of you, your blood dripping down Eddie's chin and neck, spreading down the open neck of his shirt.

He looks like a monster, the facade gone and his true form on display in all of its glory. He looks deranged, eyes as black as the Devil's, skin flushed crimson and his fangs on full display. The only thing reminding you that it's Eddie perched in front of you is his curly hair, looking out of place on his body. You should be scared, turned off, trying to back out of the door and run for your life.

Yet, you still lie there, with your legs spread for him and refusing to budge. You hazard letting your hands come out to grasp at his silk shirt and he surprisingly lets you, lets you unbutton it with nimble fingers until the front is open and exposing the bites in his toned chest and stomach.

Something had done a number on him; you know that much. Chunks of flesh are missing, deep enough that he should be dead. Through the fog of your brain, you're aware now more than ever that he probably is in fact dead - the undead.

Time was a mere concept to you in your hazy state, as you watch Eddie unbuckle the belt on his jeans, sliding them down his thighs with his underwear to expose himself, hard cock springing out into the cool air, making him hiss.

You shoot up from your place on the bed, sitting up properly to get a good look at what was in front of you.

It was like nothing you'd ever seen in your life.

It was a dick, that much was obvious, clearly. But it matched the rest of his undead body, flushed deep red from base to tip. Where there should've been veins, there were now symmetrical ridges, all the way down to the fat head. The head itself was curved upwards, almost like it was made for stroking a gspot.

And, to put it bluntly, it was fucking huge. Your mouth watered uncontrollably, the urge to reach out and touch it tugging at your gut.

Eddie reaches out and slaps you with a flat palm against your cheek, the connection loud enough to snap you out of your trance, "I said, get up on your knees. Be a good girl and ride me."

Your body moves subconsciously, trading places with Eddie and swinging your leg over so you were hovering just above his hard cock. You couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted to. At this point, you're so far gone that even the voice niggling at the back of your head had died down, leaving you a wanton, submissive mess.

He makes the first move, grabbing his cock by the base and running the head between your folds, getting himself nice and wet. Eddie makes no noise as an indicator as to whether he's genuinely enjoying this or not, just breaches your cunt with the tip until you're gasping and rocking your hips a little.

It's wide, a ridiculous stretch that you're not used to and probably could never get used to. Eddie grips onto your ass with his free hand, slapping it hard enough that you slide down another inch, your back arching a little and tears forming in your eyes.

"Little baby can't take my cock, how cute," Eddie's voice is condescending, mocking you enough to have your cunt clench around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips, "you're gonna take it all like a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

Another slap to your ass has you sliding down again, taking in another inch. You can feel every ridge of his cock, every weird texture, the fat bulb of the head already abusing your soft spot. It hurt, but it hurt so good, like you were being stretched apart from the inside.

Eddie grows impatient at how slow you're going, grabbing a tight hold of your hips and impaling you on the last of his cock until you're screaming, fingertips gripping at his mauled shoulders as you cry, cunt gripping sporadically around the length of him.

You feel so full it's pathetic, if you poked your tummy you'd be able to feel him nestled in your stomach. Could probably see it if you wanted to hazard a glance down.

"You're such a whiny little thing, aren't you? Crying for me," Eddie coos, bucking his hips up a little for emphasis until you're biting out a wet sob, "your little sobs sound like music in my ears, sweetheart."

He doesn't let you become accustomed to the size of his cock in you, lifting your hips up as if you're weightless and shoving you back down to the hilt. You moan in between your cries, body going lax in his hands as you let him do what he wants with you.

Eddie's demeanor breaks eventually and he moans into the expanse of your throat, massive cock fucking into you relentlessly from below and there's nothing you can do but take it, feeling every bit of him consuming your body, "Such a good little slut for me, taking my monster cock so well. You love it, huh? Love being treated like a little fuck toy."

You nod, tears streaming consistently, "Y-yes, Eddie. F-fuck, m'so full." You cry out, the sounds of your soaking wet cunt sucking his cock in making you clench impossibly tighter around him, "Bite me again, aah, wanna come again, please."

Your wet sobs are almost enough to have Eddie folding, sinking his teeth into you without a second thought, but instead his large hand comes up to grab your ponytail, pulling your head back until you're looking at the ceiling as his hips snap up into your own, "Scream a bit louder. Want everyone at this party to hear you cry and beg for me."

The head of Eddie's cock is relentless on your spongey spot, his hips snapping into yours hard enough you're going to be left with so many bruises, "Eddie!" Your voice is primal, you'd never heard yourself sound like this before, "Pleasepleaseplease, m'begging, let me come."

"Atta girl, begging for me all sweet." Eddie smirks, pulling your ponytail impossibly tighter until your back is arched, he leans over and bites into your neck, sinking his fangs in to the hilt as his hips continue to fuck up into you, the brutal assault feeling like it's never ending.

The hot waves of pleasure wash over you so quick you barely comprehend it, the feeling of Eddie feeding from your veins making your cunt clench around his cock as you come again, squirting wet and hot all over him, drenching his balls and his thighs.

Eddie shoves you onto your back without pulling out, driving into you deep and impossibly fast with his fangs still in your throat. He comes not long after, succumbing to the feeling of your tight pussy and your hot blood dripping down his throat, a deep groan escaping him as he buried himself in to the hilt as your clenching cunt helped work him through, "You're mine now, sweetheart. Don't think I'm done with you, I'll be back."

You pass out with his words swimming in your head, for how long you're unsure, but when you wake up Eddie is gone, the fog that clouded your brain leaving with him.

Your aching neck, leaking cunt and bruised body the only reminder he was ever there.

You wonder if he meant it, if you truly would ever see him again.

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superbattrash · 4 months

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Do you have any Superbat fic recs? Just kind of stumbled on the ship and am already excited by the notion.

Hiiiii sweetheart! Welcome to the bright and sunny side of superbat shipping ~ *blows dust off my laptop that I haven’t turned on in a month* oh gross, there are actual spiderwebs on it... I'm so sorry, Maggie. Ahem, first of all. Any and all fics by these talented people: @frownyalfred, @superbatdisasterblog, @susiecarter, @sassyresacon1990 (I know I'm forgetting a lot of people but it's been a while okay)

This is just handful of my ultimate favs, if you need more I'm always more than happy to go through my bookmarks!

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (rated M)

It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Condersing Conditions by LeCadavre_1904 (rated E)

Before Bruce and Clark fall into bed for the first time, Bruce has an unusual condition.

Clark is as obliging as always.

don't push me (cause I am close to the edge) by LinguisticJubilee (rated G)

Kara huffs out a breath in frustration. “Every Kryptonian has a heartsong. And they’re beautiful, but when you listen to one on its own it feels like something is missing. It’s like...they have something like this too, right?” She gestures outward impatiently, and Bruce forces himself not to flinch at her casual use of they. “Only they have words written down instead.”

“Soulmates,” Clark says, his voice strained.

The word hits Bruce like a bullet through the lung. He keeps his face perfectly relaxed, his heartbeat calm and regular, as he realizes (too late, he's always too late) that he should have expected this all along.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (rated T)

“But Bruce isn’t gay?” Clark points out, and there’s an awkward moment of everyone clearing their throats and avoiding Clark’s eyes until he turns to stare at Bruce. “Are you?”

Bruce blinks for a moment before offering a sheepish smile. “I’m not… not?” he offers, and Clark feels his brain just about short-circuit at the news.

Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

No Church in the Wild by TheResurrectionist (not rated but OUCH ANGST)

"I'll have a contingency plan."

"If you're the first face he sees, you'll need it."

Bruce brings Clark back by himself.

smokin' in the boys' room - by The Ressurectionist (not rated but both blood and dicks, so rated Misha HAPPY) (I cannot tell you how many times I've reread this one GUUUHHH)

Bruce Wayne -- billionaire playboy, owner of, at most, three brain cells -- beaten up at his own charity gala. Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises out of nepotism and dumb luck, whose business wasn’t touched by corruption purely because of incompetence -- Bruce Wayne, airheaded and still generous, still kind, bloody in a stall and trying to hide it.

His hand clenched on the stall door, crumpling it between his fingers. His eyes weren’t burning yet, but barely.

“Who did this to you?”

I Would I Might Forget That I Am I by susiecarter (rated T)

Clark Kent woke up, ate breakfast, went to work—the same way he did every day. Ordinary.

Except for the part where Superman hadn't been seen in at least a week and nobody knew why, Lois was acting kind of weird, and Bruce Wayne was insisting that Clark was the only reporter he'd allow to run a feature on the crashed alien ship in the park, since Wayne Enterprises had been granted control of the site. And the way Clark felt every time Wayne looked at him a little too long definitely wasn't helping.

But it was fine. Clark was normal, there was nothing wrong with him, and everything was fine.

Satisfaction Brought It Back by slippin_into_dakrness and SpiritsFlame. (rated G) (This one is my comfort comfort comfort read!!!)

Bruce always thought that Superman's cute shtick of rescuing cats from trees was a bid for publicity—until a confrontation with a magic user leaves him stuck as a cat. He learns how mistaken he was when Superman not only rescues him, but takes him back to a small Metropolis apartment. The opportunity to learn more about the alien can't be ignored, but is Bruce ready for everything he will learn about someone he has only ever regarded with distrust and dislike?

#mishask #superbat fic rec #long post #sorryyyyyy I should've kept it shorter but I wanted to summaries in case you were curious before reading

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jinx-blackout-84 · 9 months

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Been trying to put a finger on why the Dream situation pisses me off and I think I figured it out.

I spent nights staring at my ceiling listening to change my clothes and dreaming about a future that I'm scared I'll never get to have. I watched every single one of his videos, read the fanfiction, sang the songs, knew the memes and jokes, couldn't look at a kettle or fork or the goddamn color green without thinking about him. And yeah, maybe it was weird, but I was TWELVE and he was the first person I had ever seen in media that was like me. That couldn't sit still, that talked weird, that just didn't quite fit in. I had a community when I was watching tiktoks about him and reading countless Tumblr posts about the dsmp lore.

It was covid and I was a kid and I was lonely and I needed so badly to have a place where I didn't have to watch the walls in my room seemed to get closer every moment.

I started having panic attacks when I went out in public, the people I was friends with started to realize I wasn't normal, that full body twitches and flappy hands weren't the typical reaction to a good song or too-bright lights. I was so lonely.

And then I found Dream's videos. And they helped me have a place where I wasn't alone in my room, feeling like a crazy person for my tics and my gender.

I cared so fucking much about this guy, trusted him with that naive trust that kids have that people are telling the truth, and then he turned out to be taking advantage of that in his fans.

It really fucking sucked to find out that my idol wasn't a good person.

And I had him on a pedestal, I thought he was perfect, I would have taken a bullet for him, alright? I cared so much because he was the only person I had ever seen who was like me.

It wasn't normal. It wasn't just me being a normal fan. I was a stan, was a parasocial fan, whatever you want to call it.

Burt he didn't do anything to stop thousands of kids just like me from being parasocial, in fact he encouraged it.

It just bothers me to think that the entire time he was telling us he cared, 12 year old me was just another viewer. Not because I was just another viewer, but because he lied to me and told me I wasn't. I am fine with just being a fan, but being told that I'm important and significant by someone who has no way of caring about me really sucked. It sucked because it really felt like he cared, but I was always just another view, another like, another subscriber, commenter, buyer. Just another consumer.

I was emotionally dependent on him and he did nothing to discourage that behavior from thousands of fans and it's disgusting because now he's taking advantage of those same fans, using them for money, flirting with MINORS that have been conditioned to care about him.

And now a huge portion of my childhood, a huge portion of the happiness I got from being part of his community, feels so gross and tainted and I will never get to have that again. I will never get to have back those days where I could watch his videos and listen to his songs.

And I fucking loved the songs.

I loved the music, music has always been a huge deal for me, and I loved it.

Now every time I hear those stupid songs I'm taken back to when I was twelve, picturing high school and thinking about my friends and all of the things twelve year olds care about. And I miss it, and I miss the stupid songs, because I can't hear them the same anymore and they should be special to me. They should be honey-dipped nostalgia and now they are gross and unsettling.

It fucking sucks to see him parade around and talk about how he deserve sympathy because he is autistic, however true that may be, because I am autistic, and it's not fun. It's not just being a little too blunt or developing a little slower. Those may be symptoms, but that's not what autism is. It's sobbing in the middle of the lunch hall as a year 8 because you have the wrong number or apple slices in your lunch. Autism isn't some excuse for behaving like a manchild, is is something that has fucked up so much for my life. And he uses it for sympathy points.

It sucks because I related so much to him and now that I know who he really is, I am left to wonder if I will be like him one day.

It took a big part of my childhood that I should be able to look back on with fondness and sort of ruined the memories.

It sucks because part of me will always care so goddamn much even if he's fucking terrible. Even if I would avoid him if I saw him in public. Even if i have him blocked on all social media. Even if i threw away every fanart i drew of him and the dream hoodie i bought with my own money. Part of me wishes he would redeem himself so I could love his songs again. Even if I really wish he would just lose his platform right now and never fucking speak again, I miss my childhood so damn much.

Kinda fucked me up to have something I cared so much about sort of destroyed in front of me just because a man that I thought could do no wrong was a shitty person.

Anyways, I hope he burns.

#jinx screams into the void #Dream neg #dream situation #Vent tw

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jikookuntold · 4 months

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Sorry but don't you think it was already for Jikookers the moment JK's video was leaked ?

Saw many explanations and excuses saying it's made up, set up, fake etc. But really? There was no original source of video to prove it was edited. We can clearly see it's him in his apartment and bam running around him. It was filmed in Feb from his hairstyle, when bam was still with him. I saw some of big Jikokkers here having a relieved sigh when he said he don't have a gf now but He only said he don't have a gf in September. Tbh enough time to casually date and breakup with a girl.. which I've always thought his dating pattern is. So technically he wasn't lying either. And didn't he said he don't feel like wanting anyone and just want to concentrate on work for now? Doesn't that mean he don't have any partner but will have a gf in future ? In short not only he denied he had gf at the moment but also anyone special in his life. I don't think 'homophobic country' excuses applies as they literally enlisted together infront of everyone in the same country's military.

Also saw someone saying it can be a friend. But think.. who hugs some random girl in their apartment when their partner is not present there? Imagine spotting your bf hugging some random woman like that in apartment when they are alone at night. Doesn't make sense right ?

Another category of jikookers was going with 'open relationship' explanation but still not accepting Jikook is not romantically involved and everything was just them reading it wrong. Because if anyone listened to things Jimin said its clear af he only want to be in exclusive relationship.. maybe JK too but he was not even available for a serious relationship then.

Only a small percentage of Jikookers accepted its real and he has a gf irl or atleast not dating Jimin.

When i see Jikookers trying to deny it and find every excuses, it sounds like taekookers who still think Taennie was fake and army who think it's fake videos and pics.

But even worse for taekookers because one was seen holding his gf's hand in Paris while another was hugging his gf in his apartment all while choosing songs only about fucking women 😭 ik he said its not about his real life but only he chose songs like that. Others wrote their own songs but Tae's songs weren't autobiographical either and none of them were about fucking women or hetero sex. If it was rhythm he liked them they could've wrote some meaningful or even funny lyrics but nope all were about sex with women. If that doesn't tell about JK's sexuality and interests idk what will, 3D's choreo was fucking gross too. He's naturally drawn to what he likes. Tkkrs survive by lying and living in delusional world denying reality.. now jikookers also doing the same thing imo 🤷‍♀️ so idk why you have to make taekookers understand their ship is not real when Jikook isn't real too and 90% chance JK is straight af.

First of all, there is no reason for me to believe that blurry video posted on a chinese platform is Jungkook. Look for yourself, where is his lip piercing? Or the scar on his cheek? Or the mole under his lip? Huh? 😼

Wonder why that sasaeng who was spying for hours on a perfect angle on his window to catch him with the girl, didn't use a better cam instead of a toaster so their faces don't look like bread loafs? Even a normal phone has a better camera. Why in the other photos they leaked of him alone in his house the quality is good and the angle is completely different? When they explain this, I can agree that this ghost-face is JK. Otherwise it's just someone with bangs backhugging a giant pregnant lady wearing a night gown behind an open window on a breezy night.

About your mental gymnastic, in the listening party, fans were leaving comments asking "do you have a girlfriend?" And his answer was addressing that repetitive question, not the video. And don't give me this category of jikookers that percentage of jikookers thing. I don't care about anyone else's opinion, they can have their own, I have mine.

Don't you dare to compare that thing with Taennie. Taennie had 10 different HD photos leaked together and many obvious clues and hints proving the photos and the relationship was real, and even biggest and the most reliable media sources like Rolling Stone, BBC, Billboard, Dispatch, JTBC, etc wrote articles about them dating and being spotted together. JK didn't even wait for two days to react to that nonsense, but Tae was totally silent about it for almost two years. On the contrary, he started it all with following Jennie on IG, and then fueled it with more hints and wearing matching jewelry. Kmedia said they have been separated for months, so he could come up and say "I don't have a girlfriend" just like his dongsaeng but he didn't 🤷‍♀

Did you know Ricky Martin, George Michael, Freddie Mercury and many other queer singers for decades sang songs about having sex with women? Some was even their own lyrics while they were gay af lol. And you say Tae is gayer than JK because he didn't sing about having sex with women 😹

And how Jikook enlisting together has anything to do with this at all? Who said anything about homophobic country? Do guys deny having girlfriend in a homophobic country? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Did Jikook went to apply for buddy system and say "Sir, we are gay and in love, we can't stand being separated, please let us enlist together 😃🏳‍🌈" Nope.

The military of this homophobic country made this system available for close friends and relatives between the ages 18 and 28 to minimize the mental and physical traumas of mandatory service, and they are not going to ask them if they are having sex.

We always said Jikook can't live without each other, but it was people like you who come up with things like "they can't stand each other" "they only look close on cameras" "they don't care about each other" "they have different and separated lives" "they broke up" 🤡 Now that it is proved that Jikook is the closest and the most inseparable duo in BTS you are still brave on your shit? 💩

And since that video is your last straw I made this edit for you, I hope you like it 😻

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madamtrashbat · 8 months

Text

I was chatting with a friend recently about the ways antis operate and how damaging their ideology is and I wanted to organize my thoughts about it.

It's one thing to be like "I wish minors wouldn't interact with my work because it's got adult content" (which is not something you can 100% control short of paywalling) but it's another thing ENTIRELY to be like "minors should never look at anything sexual ever and people who think it's okay that they do are secret pedophiles."

Teenagers need to have the safe space to explore their sexuality and figure their shit out and sometimes that place is fandom. Sometimes teens are trying to deal with the fantasies they have about their hot history teacher so they consume teacher/student smut in order to work it out. Sometimes they're wondering what gives them their jollies and are just reading whatever they can to wank to, including incest and rape and other "unsavory" things just so they can get it all figured out.

Sometimes awful things have happened to teens and they're using the avenue of art and fiction to take the power back from their rapist and create a narrative they control where they are working through it safely.

And antis would see all of this and want it fucking destroyed.

I was brought up in fandom by a few of the sweetest older women (adult women!) who took me under their wings and showed me that what I was thinking and writing wasn't bad or wrong or shameful and it was all perfectly sane to have these sexual feelings because nothing makes sense when you're a kid and if you want to write Frerard where Gerard is the hot teacher to Frank's catholic schoolboy in order to deal with your feelings about the sexy sub you just got at your school then that's totally fine.

These trusted adults also comforted me when I was afraid, taught me what boundaries were (please do not actually pursue the sub!), told me what were normal interactions and what I should be wary of (do NOT let the sub pursue you), and they were proud of me as I made my way into the world as a reasonably well-adjusted adult.

(Hi, Gaja, can't wait for your Christmas card!)

Sexuality is weird and messy and whatever makes our pants tighter is all individual and equally weird. Telling teenagers to not seek out porn and to not even speak to adults is just a one-way ticket to growing fucked-up people who don't know how to operate without shame and then we have a resurgence in Catholicism and NOBODY needs that.

And the way that antis rally against this, like teenagers are Pure and Sweet Babies who are being corrupted by the Awful Adults Like Me (who are secretly child diddlers obviously) is just. So fucking damaging.

Imagine trying to handle the way your hormones are firing off at everything and you're just not sure what's going on and instead of a kind adult going "hey we were all freaks at 16 and it's totally normal to be like 'this strange thing is turning me on' I promise" you have some sniveling puritan asshole going "YOU ARE ACTUALLY A SEXUAL PREDATOR IF YOU LIKE THESE THINGS AND YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED AND PUNISHED BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY HARM PEOPLE."

Like. Y'all. I have seen antis claim that people who wrote about/drew rape in order to deal with their own assaults DESERVED IT because they chose to deal with it in this way. I have seen antis tell people they hope they get raped for the fiction they create. They wish death and harm against people who make fiction. Antis literally have a body count over this shit. And yet they want me to believe they're the good guys? Bye.

Antis will argue that it's not normal for people to think about gross and icky things. I argue that Holocaust survivors had sexual fantasies about actual fucking jackboot Nazis.

No one says you have to like everything everyone else does. We have a robust tagging system for a reason. But to behave as if what YOU like is the only thing that is acceptable and everything else is Bad and Wrong is not the business. Kink Tomato exists for a reason. We are all individuals who like different things. Get with it.

Teenagers are in a precarious time of development and if you want to shame them for whatever is going on in their heads then you are the problem, not the solution. Be the kind of adult you needed as a teenager, not some shaming, screaming Puritan trying to pin scarlet A's onto everything because it's sinful. Goody Proctor is just trying to rub one out in peace.

Get with the way fandom has always operated or go away. ACAB means fancop, too.

#discourse #long post

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choke-me-joey · 1 year

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5 on the fluff prompts with Joey!!! 🥺

I hope this is alright! I'm not used to writing fluff without smut lmao I'm unwell

Fluff prompt 5. I'm not going anywhere. You're it for me

Joseph Quinn x female reader

Content warning: RPF (don't like, don't read), anxiety, fluff

To say it was hard to be in a relationship with one of the world's biggest stars was an understatement.

Weeks, sometimes months of being apart, rushed phone calls, texts that go unreplied to for days at a time, rumours circulating that Joe was spotted with a brunette in Italy or a blond in Paris or a redhead in London, having to hide your life together and get on with your normal day job.

The exact opposite to your boyfriend, you were an avid social media user and you ended up having to mute his name on pretty much every app, the constant speculations about his dating life driving you insane.

And you knew you had nothing to worry about, you really did but when you were hormonal and bloated and gross looking you had to wonder, did the hottest man in the world right now, the guy who could get ANYONE he wanted, seriously only have eyes for you?!

Said man had just pinged you a text to say he was on the way home from the meeting with his manager and that he couldn't wait to see you. You smiled at his loving words but also felt the pit of dread in your stomach. Such meetings nearly always meant he was going away to do something somewhere, press or a convention or a screening or a meeting with talent agencies...just something that meant he would be there and you would be here, alone.

Joe had told you, a thousand times, to quit your job. He had made enough money from Stranger Things alone for you not to have to work, at least full time like you currently did. You'd then be free to come along, to see the world.

But, just not with him.

Your relationship wasn't public, despite having been together for five years and now owning a house together. Joe was uncomfortable with his fans knowing every little detail about his life and honestly with what you had seen online, you were grateful for that. But still, why didn't he want to tell the world about you? Was he ashamed or embarassed that he didn't have a supermodel girlfriend, or a stunning actress girlfriend? He just had...you.

You could feel yourself spiralling again. Instead of preparing dinner like you had promised, you were just curled up in the dark on the sofa, eyes filling up with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. You hastily wiped at your eyes with your sleeve as you heard the front door open.

"Hey, babe!" He calls. Oh no. He sounds happy. You take a deep breath, trying to compose and brace yourself.

"Hey," you call back, voice sounding flatter than you meant it to.

Luckily, or unluckily at times, Joe was incredibly attuned to your emotions. He was like a bloody sniffer dog, he could sense immediately that things weren't right.

He comes into the living room, chucking his jacket across the back of the sofa and immediately scooping you "Baby? What's wrong?"

And of course you burst into tears.

Joe holds you and shushes you, stroking your hair as you cry onto his shirt, leaving a damp patch of tears and probably snot, but he doesn't care. He lets you cry it out, telling you it's okay, and he's here, he's here baby, you're okay.

"B-but what if you're not h-here?!" You wail, hiccuping. God you must have looked pathetic.

"What? What do you mean baby?" Joe asks softly, picking your head up off of his chest and holding your face in his hands, looking over your face and trying to hold your gaze. You hesitate, instead opting to quietly sniff and hiccup as your tears slow. "Talk me to me, Y/N, what's all this about hm?"

"What if...what if you leave?" You whisper, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. Joe frowns, confused.

"Leave? Baby, I've told you, you can always come with me-"

"No, I don't mean when you go away for work, I mean....leave me."

"Leave...you? Why the hell would I do that? I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much, I could never-"

"But what if you meet someone else?"

"I don't want anyone else. I'll never want anyone else. Why would I when I have you?" Joe almost sounds offended, as if the very idea upset him. "Baby, what...what's brought this on?"

You sigh. "Because you're....you. And I'm me. You could have any woman in the world right now, Joe, you have them falling at your feet wherever you go. There's prettier, skinnier, younger women out there who would do anything to have you. And you're stuck with me."

"I'm not stuck with you, baby, I choose to be with you because I love you. I want you, I don't want and will never want anyone else." Joe takes your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over the tops of your hands. "I'm not going anywhere. You're it for me."

He then moves to the floor, getting on to one knee.

"Want me to prove it to you?" He lets go of one of your hands to rummage in his jacket pocket on the back of the sofa, producing a small black box. "I wasn't at a meeting with my manager, I met up with your parents to get their permission to do this." He opens the box to reveal the most beautiful diamond ring you've ever seen and your heart beats wildly in your chest. A shaky breath leaves you. "I was gonna wait for a bit but I can't...Y/N, I wanna make you happy for the rest of our lives and spend every day showing you how much I love you. Will you marry me?"

You burst into tears again.

"Yes, oh my god, Joe!" You watch as he grins, sliding the ring onto your ring finger with shaking hands. You throw yourself at him, both of you falling onto the shag rug spread out on the living room floor. He holds you tight, kissing your head, your cheeks, your nose and finally your lips.

"I love you so much," you whisper against his lips. "I'm sorry."

"I love you more darling, don't ever feel like you have to apologise for being upset," Joe says gently as you lie on the floor entwined together, his hand stroking your hair. "I'm going to talk to my publicist tomorrow about us going public, if you're alright with that?"

"Really?" You raise your head, looking down at him. He nods.

"Yeah, I can't stand this secretive shit anymore. I want the world to know my fiancée and how amazing she is."

You smile, your fingers lazily playing with his.

"Let's do it."

#joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn x y/n #kats 1.3k event

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idiotlovesongs · 10 months

Text

i wanna talk about being latino (mexican and colombian) in bandom, specifically being a fan of ptv.

as we all know, bandom is so very fucking white. sure you can go looking for specifically poc bands, but the majority of the popular bands are white with one or two people of color in the band and they are either white passing or get treated fucking weirdly by fans because white fans don't know how to interact with their poc idols normally (not that they interact with their white idols normally but it's a bad weird when it comes to poc).

most bands are sexualized but with ptv it felt particularly gross in the way it was tied to the fact that they were mexican. they were and are hot, don't get me wrong, but did the term sexican have to be so fucking popularized?? the fact that they were latinos was really fetishized in a way that white artists really didn't get. i remember someone talking about how the only reason they got a girlfriend in middle school was because in between getting called a beaner and a wetback, she was also called a sexican. it gave emo and alt people almost a right to fetishize latinos, specifically mexicans. and emo latinos just had to sit and take it because it was the only love we really got from such a largely white fanbase. a lot of memes around them (at least the ones that i remember, the ones that stuck with me) were kind of racist and stereotyped them. not to say ptv didn't make those kind of jokes from time to time, but it's different when it's coming from your own people rather than some person on the internet who is probably white.

i really fucking love ptv. it was so nice to finally look and see someone like me up on stage playing music for you. it was nice getting recognition from other people that we could also fucking do that. it gave us something to be. and i grew up around a lot of poc, but i always identified more with fandom spaces and bandom cause i was a weird emo child with a fucked up sense of sexuality and gender. i experienced that sense of other from my irl community and then in bandom spaces because most people were white. i wasn't totally conscious of the effects until i noticed in my writing that all my characters (and i do mean all) were white. Do you know how embarrassed I felt? How ashamed I felt? How it still feels so fucking shitty? that shit sticks with you. how is it that i was so entrenched in a white community that i forgot that i existed? that people like me existed. ptv really helped pull me out of that.

rpf is bandom was and is a big thing. if you were gay or questioning in middle school and you were emo, you read rpf. that's just how it fucking goes. i read maybe like one or two from bands that i liked, but the ones that i fucking devoured involved vic fuentes. yeah most of the writers were white and fetishized him, but it was still nice to have someone there that looked like me. idk if other poc can relate to this, but i always feel super uncomfortable walking into a room and have there be only white people. it makes you feel alienated as fuck. having vic and the rest of ptv in these digital spaces made me feel less alone subconsciously. again, this works were definitely a little racist and homophobic but i wasn't super picky back then and i had yet to unpack some internalized issues.

a little sidenote that i've noticed is that people talk about gender envy a lot when it comes to white members in bandom, but i've seem almost no one talk about it when it comes to ptv. maybe i'm just on the wrong side of tumblr, but i've very rarely seen someone say shit about ptv giving them gender envy and they are so fucking gender. literally fuck y'all. the day another white twink gives me gender envy is a cold day in hell. i went to mexico and got it so fucking often because i finally saw what my actual fucking face could be. i saw my features on guys and wanted to fucking crawl into their skins just to see how it would feel. and the gender euphoria i got at everyone saying i looked just like my dad was literally unreal. and yeah i got told i was the female version but it was so fucking close. i felt like i could fucking taste it. tangent over.

this is not to say ptv were always amazing and helpful to the community. i mean, they definitely catered to a white audience. i still remember watching their music videos and wondering why all the actors were white. they were the only poc in most of their old music videos. i particularly took note of the fact that there were poc in the music video of pass the nirvana because they quite literally had none before. i still remember the day i watched bulls in the bronx and wondering why they didn't have latinos in a music video for a song that was so tied to their latin roots. i get that latinos come in all different shades, but they are always picking the palest shade?? come on.

and i acknowledge that ptv probably didn't have control of the actors chosen for their mvs, but it still demonstrates the issues in bandom and how even in their own music videos they are kind of othered. i know if i was in a band, i would at least try to push for one actor to be visibly latino or some other poc. but like i said, they could very well just have no control over this and it's someone else pulling the strings for their music videos. it just felt kind of shitty to look at their music videos and see that even their they were the only latinos in the space.

sidenote, being latino and emo is fucking hard. being emo is seen as a white thing and, if your peers don't make fun of you, your family and community sure fucking will. i was in mexico and had my hair dyed bright red (which is admittedly an attention grabber) and you have no idea the amount of stares i got in my dad's pueblo. kids, parents, grandparents, everyone looks at you and stares. i'm sure this isn't specific to latinos, but i'm talking about my personal experience. my uncle, who had admittedly been kind of creepy and weird, kind of stopped interacting with me as much when i got my hair colored, when it became very visibly obvious that i was kind of alt/emo, and i definitely felt like my family was gonna talk shit as soon as i left. but that's also just how latino families are. there's always chisme. i can't imagine what it must feel like to actually live in mexico while being emo (especially in the 00s-10s) but, from what i've heard, it's not fucking fun. you're just really othered in a way that i didn't totally feel in the states because i had my friends who were also emo. i mean the mexican emo wars is such fucking proof of the difference in the way white people interacted with alt cultures and the way mexicans did.

anyways this was just me putting words to a feeling i've always had about ptv. it is by no means articulate or well crafted, but i just wanted to get this out. i really do love pierce the veil and most of their work. i always smile when i see the way their heritage influences their music and they really effected the way i see myself and my culture. i love that they got a mexican folklorico dancer to dance with them on stage for bulls in the bronx. it seriously warmed my heart to see them embrace us that way and honestly makes me wanna fucking cry. don't come at me because this shit is half assed. i know it is. it is just me talking about my experience and feelings and what i've heard from other latinos. if you're latino too, add onto this post or message me if you want to talk about this stuff or just ptv in general. white people, don't engage in this convo. it is not about you and i don't care about your opinion on the latino experience in bandom. other poc are welcome to talk about their experiences too. was there a band like this that y'all had and how did that impact you guys' perspective of yourself and your culture?

#pierce the veil #ptv #vic fuentes #tony perry #jaime preciado #latino #mexico #bandom #i really hope i get some emo latino mutuals from this

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phantomenby · 2 years

Text

Lightning bug

Anonymous asked:

hiii! i was wondering how would the lost boys react to reader with stretch marks? like on her thigh, arms, legs, stomach, and butt? it’s been bothering me really and for my fam to point out my scars are really…

Ofc u can beautiful <3

"Are you sure you should be wearing that dear?"

You looked down at your chosen outfit with a frown, hearing the condescending tone from your father as he glanced at you with a grimace.

It was nice, the clothing soft and fitting you well.

Admittedly it showed more than you would have liked, but you wanted to enjoy your summer without your family putting you down about things out of your control.

Puberty was normal of course, and it wasn't uncommon to see the small silver and purple lines dragging along the curves of your body.

It wasn't like you could help it.

Still, you were ready to go and had no desire to go back to your room and find something your parents would be satisfied with.

Clearly unhappy with your decision your mother all but ignored you the majority of the drive down to the beach, only noting how there were a few clothing stalls as you reached the parking lot.

You knew what she was hinting at.

Go buy a cover-up last minute, we understand sweetie, bodies like yours aren't meant to be seen.

It was dumb and gross. But you were an adult now and more than used to their comments, you had survived high school and college, after all, your parents had nothing on the bullies there.

When you arrived it was hot, hotter than you were used to in Santa Carla but you loved the way it warmed your skin, and slushies hit so much better when it was roasting hot.

It was only three PM, the sun would be up til eight so you had plenty of time to relax until your boys came round.

You just had to survive your parents is all.

When the great ball of fire in the sky started making its way down your mind started to fully relax, just another hour.

Just one more long, long hour.

Your parents had driven home for dinner already, and so you were treating yourself to something sweet.

The moment the cherry ice cream hit your tongue you were all but moaning in delight, prancing down the seafront as you gazed out into the ocean.

This was your favourite part. Sunset.

Almost every night of your life had been spent watching night arrive in your sweet hometown, you doubted you would ever grow sick of the way the soft blue of the day became golden, turning into a fiery orange before lavender, melting into a deep blue as the night went on.

Throughout your musing you hadn't noticed the figure sneaking up beside you, long hair tousled from the flight over, and a rather devious grin on their face.

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you to a firm chest with a yelp.

"Marko!"

He simply laughed, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rubbing his hands along your hips, "think you can walk 'round like this and not expect one of us to get you, hun?"

Blushing you pulled away until you met his eyes, watching him study you curiously.

"What's wrong?"

You tried looking away but his hand met your chin and pulled your face towards him, refusing to break eye contact until you spoke.

"I-it's just my mother-" he cut you off with a growl, bringing you back to his chest and placing his hand at the back of your head, tugging your hair so he could bury his nose in your neck.

You knew what he would say, though he had started giving up on repeating himself after so long, getting sick of the things you were told about yourself.

"This time?" His tone was agitated, not at you though, humming you thought on what to say. Today hadn't been easy but there was no way to sugar coat it.

"Just-" you brought your hand up to rub the back of his neck, soothingly, "just my marks and well I'm showing more skin than usual-"

He cut you off with a kiss, pressing his lips to yours angrily as his hands went to the soft flesh of your upper thighs, squeezing possessively.

"They're stupid, I'll kill them-"

"N-no! No you wont!" shoving him bak with all your strength you gave him a warning look, "they're still my parents, assholes or not."

Rolling his eyes he lifted you over his shoulder, giving your ass a swat as you kicked your legs against his hip.

"Whatever puppy, let's go find the others."

He carried you all the way to the other end of the beach, past where the light touched until you reached a large bonfire where your other boys were sat around.

All three of them laughed when you arrived, watching Marko spin so you could face them.

David walked up to you, pinching your cheek and pulling you to him when Marko let you down.

"Been playing nice you two?" You batted his hands away, moving out of his arms and cosying up to Paul who was waiting for you with open arms.

His hands wrapped around you, an arm under your thigh and another around your back, keeping you flush against him.

His nose found your hair as he breathed you in, the coldness of his breath tickling you as he whispered in your ear, "y'know we don't care, love, about all those little things."

You nodded looking up at him with shiny eyes, basking in the feel of his long fingers tracing the grooves on your thighs.

"You're ours little dove, marks, moles, and bumps are nothing to be ashamed of. You're beautiful my little lightning bug."

He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours and kissing away your fears, reminding you of their love for you. Bumps, scars and all.

#tlb #the lost boys #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader #marko the lost boys #dwayne tlb #the lost boys fic #poly lost boys x reader #david tlb #marko tlb #the lost boys 1987

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darkreflectionworld · 2 years

Text

My boyfriend is so cute, right? Last night when he got home he showed me this necklace he found on his way home. It looked nice, but I thought nothing of it until we had sex later in the evening and instantly swapped bodies.

I suddenly found myself super skinny and several inches shorter while Adam landed in my taller, broader, more muscular body. After we both freaked out a little bit we concluded the necklace had to be the cause, and sex the catalyst.

I tried suggesting we swap back right then, but my boyfriend, in my body, told me he wanted to wait. Tomorrow we had tickets for a Comic Con and he wanted to attend as me, dressed in my Spiderman cosplay outfit.

He was totally at home in my Spiderman spandex. I honestly wanted to wear some baggy clothes because I didn't want to draw attention to my small body, but Adam made me wear the tightest skinny jeans I have ever been in, and a form fitting tank top as well. I felt self conscious looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, but I had to admit my boyfriend had a hot body. He walked in on me finishing getting ready and I had to say, him in my body in that costume and me wearing these accentuating clothes were almost enough to make us fuck again.

If only that had happened, and we swapped back then. Instead, we contained ourselves and went to the convention center.

It was strange, experiencing this event from Adam's perspective. Everyone and everything looked bigger to me, and my body just had this energy to it, like I wanted to just run around and see everything at once. Adam kept me contained as he could, but he kept getting stopped by people asking for a picture with him (which he was more than willing to oblige, flexing my muscles every chance he got).

The day wore on and I started getting a little tired. Adam was having so much fun, so I just asked him for the keys to the car. I would go hang out in the parking garage, maybe have a nap, and wait for him to get burnt out. I knew we would be having sex the second we got home, and I was currently wearing the magic necklace, so by tomorrow I would be back home in my own body, and Adam and I could go back to normal - but with a added bonus. I found it kind of fun to just been seen and act like some horny twink.

On my way through the parking garage I passed by some run down looking van. The door flung open and an arm reached out, pulling me inside, and then there was a cloth put to my face. I had no choice but to inhale whatever had dampened the cloth and soon blacked out.

When I woke, I knew something was wrong. I felt wrong, and I have woken up in Adam's body before, but this was wrong. I quickly pulled a phone out and turned on the front facing camera.

I wasn't Adam anymore, I was some chubby, nerdy looking guy! And what was worse, was I found myself in the back of the van I had been walking past, and the necklace was no longer around my neck!

Struggling to use my new body, I got myself out of the van and into the parking garage, realizing too late that I was only wearing the skimpy underwear this guy had been wearing. I had to find Adam's body and swap back, or I would be just a fat geek for the rest of my life. I ran down to where Adam parked our car when we arrived, noticing stares of people looking at my flabby body as I bounced and jiggled to the spot.

The car was gone. This dude had stolen my boyfriends body from me and left me in his huge, gross form. Not only that, but I knew that when Adam got us back to our house, he was going to fuck me hard, causing another swap.

I thought about my original body, and my new cock got hard. I felt it unintentionally and wanted to cry because it was so small. I had gone from being someone who could put on a spandex bodysuit and get good attention for it... to this.

Running back to the van, I found more clothing for my new body. I threw it on, all three times the size of my normal clothes, and found a wallet. The name I currently went by was Greg, and his ID listed his home address.

Do I confront the man who stole my body or do I go home to my new life? You tell me.

#switch bodies #body swap #male body switch #male body swap #bodyswap

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whysojiminimnida · 2 years

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So What's with Jimin Lately, You Asked

WARNING THIS IS A LONG-ASS POST And please remember that this is a NO SOURCE NO RECEIPTS HOUSEHOLD OKAY. I don't know shit, I ain't confirming a damn thing, anything you read is my opinion based on maybe info or maybe utter garbage. That's my disclaimer and I am STICKING TO IT. I can't be the only one who has noticed our Jiminie looking a bit...like this, recently:

And I think I may have one reason why.

Scandals are a fact of life among idols. What in the West might be considered a normal life event is, in the world of the K-pop system, often a career-ending event. Like, IDK, members dating actual women. Or men. Or each other.

In the last couple of months, all of these things have been alleged - one of them in the press. The other two, behind the scenes. We know about Jimin's mail being stolen and the security failure there, and it's not a stretch to believe that security for BTS overall has taken a hit. It was adequate, even excellent, for years. BigHit pays very well.

But information pays better, and blackmail pays best. Lest you think "NO but that whole Taehyung-Jennie thing was a stunt"... maybe. Maybe not. Tae, actually, is one of the most scandal-proof idols in the business because he primarily or only dates women. Sorry not sorry, I said what I said and I ain't wrong.

I have said privately, if not publicly, that Hybe will NEVER DENY THOSE RUMORS because Taehyung himself will not deny them. They aren't even bothering to keep them out of the press.

Being straight or even passably so is not a problem, for artists on Bangtan's level (is anyone else even ON Bangtan's level? NO.) The Jeon-Parks, though.

See, the thing about being *gaily involved* in Korea is that... it's a problem no matter how famous or powerful you are. Idols are not immune - ask Holland.

That's Homo Hill, kids - the WeHo of Seoul. The gayest gayborhood in the entire of Korea. And famous unstr8 people are not safe, there, now.

There was a pay-for-info attempt floating around about JeiKei awhile back. And he was alibi'd for the date(s) in question. Wasn't there, wasn't him, the fakes were good but not good enough to put him somewhere he wasn't. You maybe didn't hear about it because those of us who did, didn't discuss it out loud.

More recently, though.... I'm gonna say this in public this ONE TIME and we will not speak of it again. OKAY? Okay. Sometimes people are for sale that shouldn't be. And security failure has happened more than once in the last couple of months - a problem that, I am told, has since been rectified. And I am not saying money changed hands, do not get me wrong. I'll come find you if you say I said that. But there are REASONS that Jimin and Jungkook are currently not sharing vehicles, not being seen as too friendly, are not "together" in public, not even in interviews or photoshoots. Sometimes a bit of perceived distance is necessary. I don't feel like I should or should need to elaborate.

Add to that the depth of emotional and psychological damage, it's no wonder Jimin doesn't trust anyone, very much, lately.

My favorite couple have not been seen together in public since their off period began and I don't think I need to further expound on why, unless you're completely unaware of the eyes that are currently on BTS as a whole. (Sorry, I keep deleting stuff. This is taking longer than I thought). But Jimin was the one whose security had already failed - enough that Hybe had to clean up after them.

The others have had sasaeng problems and those are constant and pretty normal business. All idols get that. But all of them are not Park "It Boy" Jimin.

So being threatened with a very real tax lien, and immediately following that even a hint of the possibility of being outed, right NOW? I've deleted a lot more than I can ever write on how gross, how invasive, that is. And that when this is his normal commute:

In the West, Jimin gets a lot of hate from cultists and we don't like to talk about that. But within the last year, a small but rude wave of anti-Jimin sentiment has made its way into Korea. Airplanes and money exist. I've been shocked at what some people are willing to do to further their narrative. If your favorite translator can afford to hit every show with their anti buddies but can't seem to remember to support Jimin's OSTs or solo efforts, ask yourself how they benefit from that and who they support and what else they might be up to that we aren't aware of. If you casually see cult-adjacent accounts that seem to somehow be turning a for-profit narrative ask yourself what loyalty that cash might be buying. It doesn't take a lot of people to crowdfund someone's entire livelihood. Maybe 1000 at $5 a month could get it done.

HELL IF I COULD COMMAND $5K A MONTH FROM Y'ALL I WOULD MOVE OUT MY MAMA'S HOUSE NEXT WEEK AND PAY MY MEDICAL BILLS.

If y'all don't have anything else going on I'll just put me up a whole Ko-fi or Patreon and write fanfiction for a damn living and YOU THINK I AM JOKING I AM NOT EVEN. My services can be bought. Most people can, if they like what they're doing and can get paid to do it. I won't lie to you for cash and I mouth off here for free but hey, a girl needs rent all right, my fanfiction commissions are OPEN.

Get up to a quarter, half-million ad-revenued followers and do the math on that kind of income.

We can't all be Ryan Kaji, Super Spy, but it ain't for lack of trying.

Now imagine a paparazzi journalist with the idea of a second and third source of cash, plus the street cred of breaking the biggest news story in K-pop history, and their neighbor's second cousin happens to know someone with a vacant window view to a certain apartment and this is how careers get shot down and reinvented much later on another continent.

That's the level of stress, I think, for all of them in general but for Jimin in particular. Maybe on a similar level for Jungkook, somewhat less so for Taehyung. The hyungs have it a little easier, but not by much.

Now add to that Schrodinger's Hiatus and other things we never know about - family stress, life in general, maybe Jimin's plumbing went out or his invisible cat got sick, we don't know everything -- how would we begin to look at our lives, in Jimin's place? Would it be worth it?

Based on his smile at MNet last night, I really hope so.

#jimin #the park jimin #nobody better ever say a bad word about him to me #or any of them #but especially the jeon parks #they're my bias #yes both of them #i adore them equally and without prejudice and i will kick ass the same way #i am here to slay dragons and stan jikook and i am all out of dragons #excepting those in my anon box #which i am avoiding sorry hit me with a dm instead #my tags lord #sorry #jikook #sasaengs #security failure

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the-apples-were-monitored · 2 months

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I fully believe that Dan knew what was happening. I know this is all vibes based, but him immediately asking Drake if it was him instead of the dozens of other kids on other Nick shows like All That feels WAY too convenient. Drake did a couple of other interviews. in the one with Sarah Fraser he talks about how when the Brian Peck letters finally got unsealed. He said that there were a LOT of people who wrote letters of support were people that went on to work with him on Drake and Josh. Two of the people that were in the courthouse were Kimmy Robrtson and Taran Killam. Kimmy is the one that wrote how Brian was "tempted beyond belief". They both went on to get bit parts in an episode of Drake and Josh.

yeah i saw those interviews this morning. that's my absolute nightmare. i spent years paranoid that everyone who was nice to me was secretly a spy for my abuser and to think that this actually happened to drake in some capacity...

i think you're completely correct. i mean it's not just to me that drake's dad had already confronted production about what he felt was concerning behavior so it wouldn't be hard to connect the pieces, but dan gives me major groomer vibes himself and i truly believe this was a culture of abusers enabling and protecting abusers. it's truly horrific. and to think terry had a bit part on the amanda show too. there were so many people who likely knew about this all this time but harbored ill feeling towards this child. and we can't just excuse it completely as maybe they didn't know the extent of the crime because they're not owed the gory details before they determine it's wrong to abuse a child.

this is all i've been able to think about for days. i can't stop thinking about how we were all forced to watch grooming behavior live on tv for years. dan schneider had cameos in amanda show sketches and amanda was seen being too comfy with him behind the scenes (which is very reminiscent of the way my sister's body language was with my stepdad so it causes concern). dan beamed his gross sense of humor into our eyeballs for 20 years and none of us knew what he was normalizing. i can't help but think that i wasn't allowed to watch shows like buffy when i was a kid but my pedophile stepfather would sit down with us and watch shows like zoey 101 like it wasn't a problem. i can't help but wonder if this was part of the grooming and normalization. i can't help but wonder if slime time - a staple of my childhood - was super weird.

now i can't help but feel grateful that nickelodeon never came to my school.

i hope all the victims find peace, including ones who will never feel comfortable sharing. i can't help but think that brian peck must have had other victims before drake because i've studied this behavior and it tends to escalate over time. i hope they find peace too.

#rape tw #abuse tw #quiet on set #amanda bynes #drake bell #i'm okay talking about this stuff now because i've done a lot of work so don't worry about triggering me in my ask box

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orcelito · 3 months

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I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.

The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.

Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.

In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.

And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.

I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.

But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.

His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.

It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.

I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)

It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.

And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".

He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.

So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.

He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.

I love him. I miss him already.

#speculation nation #negative/#this got really long on accident. but i think typing this out was really helpful for me.#getting the thoughts out. processing. the works.#nearly cried several times just from writing this.#...and honestly i might reference this again when i start seriously writing my eulogy.#things suck a Lot right now. and i really wish they were different.#feels like i picked a bad choice in a video game and am now seeing the Bad Ending or whatever #all i need to do is reload a previous save. it's all still there. perfectly preserved in my memories.#but... that's all gone. as suddenly and unfair as it is ive been thrust into a new chapter of my life so thoroughly.#it's not all bad though. he wasnt prepared for dying so it's been hell to prepare for him #we dont know if we'll even be able to get into his fucking iphone. stupid piece of shit.#but he had life insurance. he had a union job. and That comes with benefits #(something about a year's salary going to the family. aka half a year's salary to Me. and isnt That mind boggling.)#as much as it hurts im going to be realistic about it. im going to do what i need to finish my education.#and im going to use it as a springboard for finally becoming a 'proper adult'.#the kind who could own a nice kitchen fridge. one with an ice machine on the front of the door #and freezers in the drawers.#maybe then i could think about getting motorcyle lessons. not from my dad as i originally wanted #but i wanna keep the family biker spirit alive. i wanted it even before he died. and now i want it even more.#ive had so so many thoughts. it's only been 3 days. ive had to emotionally numb myself several times just to Get Through It.#everything is exacerbated. my mom wants to go to the funeral. we will have to fight her on this. my dad Hated her.#and i certainly dont fucking want her around either. not then. not when im talking about my dad.#(my dad. my Dad. i saw him die. i felt him cold. i do not regret it. it still hurts me.)#it's overwhelming. i loved him so fucking much. even with his flaws he was truly an amazing father.#i'll... shut up now. if you read this far. well. hug your loved ones a little tighter. you never know when youll lose them.

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