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jun-of-love · 1 year

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i will spend my whole life loving you- kim mingyu

tw: none

genre: fluff, angst, kim mingyu

words: 1.7k

pairings: yn × mingyu

a/n: this a very random scenario that popped up in my head. it's all imagination, and does not in any way reflect mine or mingyu's opinions, values, thoughts etc. with that being said i hope you like it :)

“Hey Y/n, is something wrong with Mingyu?”

You had just parked your car when Seungcheol’s text popped on your screen. You read it, sighing deeply. Mingyu had been behaving really weird lately, no one knew what was going on in his mind. Considering that his contract with HYBE was expiring soon, you gave him some space as you figured that he needed time to figure out the specifics. The date was still far away, and the renewal discussion had just been initiated, there was seemingly no reason for Mingyu to act so disturbed over this. You closed your eyes and massaged your temple, the events of last week replaying in your head.

“Gyu, how was practice??” you chirped as soon as he entered the house, eyes void of energy. “Hey, is something wrong?”

“It's everyday babe, nothing special. I’m just tired, I’m going to sleep in the guest bedroom.” He picked up Uri, your cat, and slammed the door shut. You were left with Doori, your other cat in your lap meowing at the shift in the energy. You didn’t want to tire him further or initiate any fights so you left the incident at that, even though it was only in the most intense fights that one of you would sleep in the guest bedroom.

However, before you could even wake up, Mingyu had left the house to go god-knows-where. All he left behind was a lame sticky note saying ‘Don’t worry about me, I had to head out early for some work.’ You were surprised but also concerned; Mingyu never lied, you both had each other’s schedules in your phones, and there was no reason for him to get out of the house at 7 in the morning. You texted and called him multiple times, but he had his phone switched off, further irritating you. You had no time to worry about this, as your own work started in a few hours and you had to get ready for another hard day of dealing with patients.

And so it continued for a week. Mingyu refused to interact with you, or anyone else for that matter. He would sleep early if he reached home before you, or came home after you fell asleep and left before you could wake up. He would only talk as much as necessary with his members and would be on his phone or staring off in the distance for hours. The latest episode of GoSe they shot ended up giving little to no screentime to him because of his low enthusiasm. For a roaring extrovert like him, this behavior was getting very concerning.

You stood in front of your apartment door, deciding to end this episode once and for all. You hadn’t sent him your regular text telling him that you’ve left work. You were back early, and you could hear the sounds of some activity going on inside. You quietly entered the house, leaving your things on the sofa and tip-toeing your way toward the kitchen.

There he was, back hunched over the sink, doing the dishes from the meal he had just cooked. Mingyu had a habit of humming or talking to himself while doing household chores, but he was eerily silent today. The sound of water splashing and utensils clanking against each other was deafening when not paired with his sweet humming. Your eyes prickled with tears, he really wasn’t feeling okay.

You walked towards him slowly, hugging him tightly from the back. A confused “Huh?” leaves his lips as he registers your presence. “You’re back early.” He said, in a vague tone.

“Kim Mingyu, what is wrong with you?” Mingyu shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his full name, but you refused to let go. “You haven’t even looked at me properly this past week. You’re not talking to me or anyone else at all,” You made him turn around, looking deeply into his eyes. “Did I do something wrong? Please, please talk to me.” Your tone turned into a pleading one without intending to, you had never been the one to hide your emotions well.

It felt as if all hold Mingyu had over himself fell apart. He hugged you tightly, his body slightly shaking, indicating that he was crying. You only stroked his back, trying your best to comfort him despite your overwhelming concern for him. Exactly what could have happened for him to break apart like that? He had been through malicious scandals and stalker fans yet this was the first time you had seen him so vulnerable.

“Y/n, I don’t want to do this anymore.” Mingyu managed to say between sobs. Your mind went blank and your body went cold, he wanted to break up with you?

“Do what?”

“This. Whatever I’m doing right now.” He continued. “I want to stop being an idol.” He stared into your eyes, desperately looking for validation. “I’m tired of this life. I’ve been working to the bone since I was fifteen, I have achieved more than I have ever dreamed, I just-” He hiccuped, “I just don’t want to be public property anymore. I don’t want to fake my personality, my emotions, my opinions 24/7, I’m sick of this.” He held your hand tightly, “Earlier I didn’t care, I had no one to come back home to, I could spend as much time as I wanted to in practice rooms, studios, broadcasts what not. But ever since I’ve met you, it kills me every time I have to hide our relationship for our safety, leave you and our daughters alone for months to perform on tours and even when I’m here, I always have some goddamn schedule to follow, and it's getting sickening to me! I just want to live with my family for as much time as I want.”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew his career was his dream, passion, and everything he has ever wanted and you also knew that he was slowly getting sick of it, but to this point? All of this to be with you? All you knew was that you would support him no matter what. “Let the contract expire then.” You said.

“What?”

“I said, fuck your idol industry. Leave your job. Stay at home and do whatever you want. Let’s spend all of our days and nights together. Let’s scream out our relationship to everyone. Leave all this behind if it is making you so miserable.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked incredulously. “You don’t have a problem with it? I’ll be unemployed. You’ll have a jobless husband.”

“Aha, you’re going too far Mr. Mingyu, you gotta put a ring on my finger first before calling yourself my unemployed husband.” You chuckled, careful not to show how giddy the word ‘husband’ made you.

However, Mingyu looked unaffected. “Don’t joke around.” He said sternly. “I won’t be able to be the man you deserve. I won’t be able to contribute to the house, or buy you pretty things, or give our daughters the best toys they deserv-”

“Gyu, are you crazy? You are the man I love. I don’t even care what I deserve, and even if I did I’m sure I’ve gotten way more than that.” You kiss him softly on the lips. “Retire and do whatever you want to do. Plus, I don’t get why you’re so worried about the financial part, have you forgotten how fat your bank account is? The bigass investments your accountant has made sure you have?? You own a fucking building for God’s sake, who put all this unemployment bullshit in your head?”

“Are you okay with me being a house-husband then?” Mingyu challenged, “What if I tell you I want to spend the rest of my life taking care of you and our fur daughters and in the future, our children, and not work a day in my life ever at all ?!?” His eyes were so determined it made you laugh.

“Mingyu, what the hell are you talking about??” You giggled. “I would love that. I don’t like that domestic stuff as much anyway, you know that. Coming back home from work to a warm meal and a delicious man? How could I possibly say no??” His confused face made you laugh more, and hug him out of pure adoration.

Mingyu continued pouting,” I won’t be a high-value man then.” You snapped his head towards him, where was he getting all this stuff from? “Wouldn’t you be embarrassed when people ask you what your husband does and you have to say that he does nothing?”

“Who told you that? Let people believe whatever they want to believe. Who cares what people say, Gyu? As long as we’re happy together, as long as we’re balancing our relationship and our home properly, I don’t give a flying fuck about what anyone says.” You grab his face looking straight into his eyes. “I will yell and announce to everyone that I have a stay-at-home husband and everybody will be jealous to the very bone, you just see. Having you as a partner is such a flex, babe, don’t let this high-value shit get to your head, it is all bullshit anyway.” Mingyu smiles lightly, mostly from your overwhelmingly passionate speech. “Even if you were to sell your investments and your buildings, and donate that money to charity, I will still be able to support the house comfortably so Don’t. Worry. About. The. Money. Your girlfriend is a dentist” You finish your speech with a smirk, making him chuckle.

Mingyu just held you in his embrace tightly, words like ‘thank you’ and ‘I love you’ couldn’t possibly suffice for the extent of adoration and respect he had for you in his heart. He felt emotions that he couldn’t quite describe, but he was sure that relief and gratitude were some of them. A huge burden had been lifted off of him, and he could only hope you knew how much you had helped him till now. The grave concerns and issues bothering him for so long felt so small to him, now that he had your support. He could take over the world, or live his dream domestic life, everything was possible as long as you were by his side.

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stvrmhondss · 7 months

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one of the most fascinating aspects of lestappen to me is that max is everything/has everything charles dreams for: the team, the car, the wins, the titles, the love, the dedication, the trust etc etc he wants to fight max so badly and yet is relegated to watching from the sidelines as max flies while his own wings are being clipped at every opportunity by a team he loves and is faithful to, foolish as he is.

he wants max he wants to be max he wants to beat max

#evening thoughts on race day #god #concerning max charles is soooo co comparison is killing me slowly i had a dream i got everything i wanted when's it gonna be my turn #what was i made for coded #falling into bed with max could be seen as deeply masochistic #i can't be him i can't beat him at least let me be wanted by him #deeply humiliating for max to win race after race and then deign charles with his presence and juicy ass #almost charity if you think about it #hm #may be i should write tha—[SHOT]#lestappen

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yasmeensh · 3 months

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Hello hello! Here is a preview of my spread for @2023legendoflinkzine !

#legend of link zine #zine #loz #charity zine #you bet I am doing a zelda 2 artwork ;)#it has a companion art piece by the amazing zolanort!#and a fantastic writing piece by Zartophski!#please take a moment to check out the zine! <3

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lemonlurkrr · 2 months

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Here's a preview of my piece for the @2023legendoflinkzine !!!!!!!

pre-orders open up March 25th, and ALL proceeds will be going to Doctors Without Borders

#charity zine #legend of link charity zine #legend of link zine #loz #legend of zelda #oooo aahhh surprise surprise Lemon Draws Twilight Princess #lemondoodlrr #sooo many baller writing and art pieces so keep an eye out for the rest of the previews ;)))

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fungifanart · 3 months

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Like a bundle of grapes

Characters: Yuu (GN), Ace, Deuce, Grim, Azul, Jade, Floyd

CW: Cartoon violence, crack

Word count: 964

Notes: Wrote this for @twst-charity and their charity drive to send aid to Palestine! Go check out the other works done for it and feel free to donate, if you can! We have SO many talented artists and writers involved!

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Yuu is going to MURDER that octopus.

Actually, no. Death is too good for him.

Yuu is going to cut off his tentacles, make them into takoyaki and then feed it to him.

There, that's better.

Now that they have a plan of attack, Yuu quickens their pace as they march angrily towards the Mostro Lounge to go collect their three anemone-headed idiots.

What else was Yuu gonna do when the man running the Mostro Lounge just casually ruined what was SUPPOSED to be a nice hangout between them, Ace, Deuce and Grim?

Yuu slams their foot into the front door, forcing it open with a loud bang that causes a wave of silence to wash over the lounge's patrons as they look at them in shock, their three idiots included.

"AZUL ASHENGROTTO!!!" Yuu's enraged voice echoes throughout the lounge, prompting the sound of footsteps coming from the back hallway a minute later.

"Well, well! I was wondering who could possibly have the GALL to walk in and disrupt my business and then I find out that it's our darling Prefect!" The man in question says calmly as he rounds the corner into the main dining room, "To what do I owe the pleasure of you gracing my establishment with your ever calming presence?"

Yuu's eye twitches as they close the distance between themself and him, "Cut the crap, Ashengrotto. You know exactly why I'm here." They say as they stop in front of him and cross their arms impatiently.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid I really don't! I can tell that you're quite upset with me, but would you be so kind as to clarify why?" Azul says after throwing his hands up dramatically.

"Tch, alright fine. You suckered Ace, Deuce and Grim into another contract and screwed them over with the fine print! I thought you said you were gonna be nicer from now on!" Yuu says while pushing their finger against the man's chest accusingly.

Azul waves Yuu's hand away dismissively before responding, "Surely this isn't what you came all the way here for? Surely you realize that you should be angry at those three for not reading the fine print rather than at me?"

"Dissolve the contracts." Yuu says, not yielding even an inch.

"Oh? And why would I do that? The only ones who violated the terms of the contracts are the ones that signed them, so I'm not the one at fault here. And need I remind you that YOU decided to enter MY establishment and disrupt MY business? I could have Jade and Floyd kick you out for that alone, you know." Azul says condescendingly as the two eels in question slowly close in on either side of Yuu, most likely waiting for a signal from him.

"Oh please, we both know those two would happily let me beat you up if I made it funny." They say while rolling their eyes.

"My, how confident we are today! And how do you suppose you could do that?" The octopus says arrogantly.

"Like THIS!!!" Yuu responds before dashing behind Azul faster than he can react, wrapping their arms around his waist in a vice-like grip and arcing their back fully backwards, taking him with them as he lets out a shrill scream before colliding with the hard floor.

A beat of pin-drop silence passes as everyone's brains collectively catch up with what Yuu has done.

The silence is then broken by Floyd bursting out into howling laughter, accompanied by Jade struggling to keep his composure with his hand clamped over his mouth.

With Azul out cold and the eels successfully incapacitated, Yuu quickly rifles through the octopus's jacket pockets and pulls out Ace, Deuce and Grim's contracts before grabbing their owners by the anemones and dragging them out of the Mostro Lounge, still dazed by Yuu's actions.

Upon reaching a safe distance from the establishment, Yuu rips all three contracts to shreds, releasing their friends from the anemones and Azul's grasp.

Feeling the empty space on their heads, the three's brains finally catch up as they cheer in excitement and move to pull Yuu into a group hug, only for Yuu to dodge and instead deliver a tight and painful pinch to each of their cheeks.

“Owowowow! What gives?!” Ace asks while rubbing his cheek.

“Have you three learned nothing from the last time Azul pulled something like this?” Yuu asks with their hands on their hips like a scolding parent.

“L-look, we're sorry, it's just–” Grim tries to respond, but Yuu's frustrated voice cuts him off.

“Just what? What could be so important that you'd put yourselves at risk like that?” Yuu questions harshly, losing whatever patience they have by the second.

“Sam's shop just got a shipment of fresh watermelons, so…” Ace trails off while twiddling his thumbs.

“We wanted to get some for our hangout today, but we were short on cash, so we signed on to do some quick odd jobs for Azul, but…well…you know the rest.” Deuce explains as all three of them look at the ground.

Yuu's mouth hangs agape for a few seconds before guilt overtakes them and they wrap the other three in a tight hug, “Oh, you guys! I'm sorry for getting so angry!! I'd love to have watermelon with you!!!” They say while shaking them around.

Yuu only lets go upon hearing the door to the Mostro Lounge burst open to the sound of their favorite octopus screaming bloody murder at them and two eels that are still struggling to contain their laughter as they follow him.

“Race you to Sam's shop!” Yuu says to their friends with a challenging smile.

Breaking out into a run, the four classmates make their way to the mirror, laughing all the while.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #twst grim #twst mc #twst ace #twst deuce #twst azul #twst jade #twst floyd #ace trappola #deuce spade #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #twst charity drive #why is this mushroom writing fanfics?

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sidekick-hero · 10 months

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You know I'm a show off (I would let you get some)

(steddie | explicit | 6.4k | AO3)

And so begins the longest ten minutes of Eddie Munson's life.

He's standing there, the sun beating down on them, but he's sweating for a completely different reason as he watches Steve contort himself to reach every last inch of his precious BMW. His shorts are riding dangerously high, just barely revealing the curve of his round ass more than once. There are moles all over his skin, like constellations waiting to be explored by adventurous hands and lips. The hair on his legs looks soft, so light it's almost blonde, and Eddie wants to run his fingers over it, scratch the creamy white skin of his inner thighs and leave his mark on that perfect body.

Or: Steve washes his car just for Eddie to get it dirty again.

Eddie was going to die. Death by sexual frustration. Or spontaneous combustion. Maybe a heart-attack. No matter how, his neighbor would be the death of him.

He and his best friend Chrissy just moved into the duplex three weeks ago, but Eddie was already on the brink of insanity. Just last week he had to witness said neighbor — Steve, the most boring name for the most exciting creature he ever laid eyes on — water his garden in nothing but red swimming trunks, his skin glistening in the sun like that creepy vampire Chrissy was so obsessed with. Eddie had wanted to lick every drop of sweat from his body, soothe the blooming sunburn on his shoulders and nose with his spit, and ask him to water something else with his hose.

And to add insult to injury, the guy was not only gorgeous, but nice. Like, super nice. He's always polite, always handing out smiles like candy on Halloween. He never stares at Chrissy in that sleazy way that too many guys do. There are no loud parties. Hell, the guy even separates his garbage. Eddie's pretty sure he also rescues kittens from trees in his spare time.

When they had moved in, Steve had come over and offered his help, just like that. Being a little overwhelmed and a lot exhausted from moving both of their belongings in one day, they had gratefully accepted. Steve had carried box after box, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his polo shirt. Despite the heat and the sweat running down his face and neck, he smelled heavenly every time he walked by Eddie. He would brush up against him or press in close as they both tried to lift something from the moving truck, and Eddie had to close his eyes and will himself to calm down. He was sure he'd get a hard-on every time he smelled Steve's cologne from now on.

Today's special torture was Steve washing his car in front of his garage. Wearing nothing but a white tank top and the shortest jean shorts Eddie has ever seen in his life, which is saying something considering his best friend is an ex-cheerleader. What the fuck was this guy thinking? Does this count as assault?

The top and shorts were already soaked, clinging to Steve's body like a second skin and leaving little to the imagination. Not that Eddie's imagination didn't still run wild with what it was given. So wild, in fact, that Eddie doesn't even notice how he all but drops the groceries he was trying to carry to the house back into his van, and walks over to the godlike creature, who is acting out a scene that could have come straight out of one of Eddie's wet dreams.

He only realizes what he's doing when Steve looks up from where he's been scrubbing the hood of his car with a soapy sponge and asks him, "Uh... can I help you?"

"I noticed you're washing your car," Eddie says dumbly.

The corners of Steve's lips twitch like he's hiding his amusement. "Yup," he says, popping the p. "Want me to wash yours? I already have everything out.”

Eddie glances at Steve's crotch before he can stop himself and thinks, I wish you would.

"Yeah," he says dreamily, licking his lips. He can't remember what Steve asked, but the answer would always be yes, as long as he could stand here and stare at him.

"Great. I'm almost done here, then we can start on your van. Gimme ten."

And so begins the longest ten minutes of Eddie Munson's life.

The tank top is also see-through, revealing spectacular tits that Eddie is dying to get his hands on, and a tantalizing patch of dark chest hair that he needs to bury his face in.

Steve absentmindedly wipes the hair plastered to his forehead away with the hand that’s not holding the sponge. His muscles move under his wet skin, and Eddie thinks back to the easy way he picked up his amp from the moving truck and carried it up the stairs to Eddie's room. He could probably lift Eddie as well and the thought does nothing to relax the situation in his pants. They are getting uncomfortably tight and he prays to whoever is listening that it will go down fast.

"Okay, all done. Looking gorgeous again, sweetheart." Steve says, petting the hood of his car and Eddie chuckles.

Steve looks up at him as if expecting Eddie to mock him, so Eddie raises his hands in a reassuring gesture and says, "Hey, no judgment from me. I got my own sweetheart hanging on my bedroom wall, I get it."

"Oh, your guitar, right?"

"Yeah, it was my first electric guitar. I wrote all the songs for my band’s album on her. She holds a special place in my heart."

Steve smiles at him, his hazel eyes warm and open. "I know what you mean," he says as he watches his fingers dance over the gleaming metal one more time before looking back at Eddie, his gaze wandering along his frame, his eyes subtly widening at the sight of the probably still very obvious bulge in Eddie's pants.

Eddie can feel the heat creeping up his body, embarrassed at being caught, but Steve only swallows once, Adam's apple bobbing, before clearing his throat and throwing his thumb over his shoulder. "Just need to put it in and we're good to go."

"Put it...in?" Eddie chokes out, trying to subtly adjust his pants at the mental image.

Steve smirks at his reaction, and Eddie starts to think that his neighbor isn't such a goodie-two-shoes as he originally thought.

"The car? It needs to go into the garage so we can put your van in my driveway to clean it."

"Oh yeah, absolutely. By all means, put it in." Eddie cringes at his own words. Good God, what is wrong with him?

Steve nods, his appraising eyes still lingering on Eddie for a moment before he gets into the car. He waits for the garage door to slide open before he drives the BMW into the spacious room. Eddie is watching, his brain is still not back online after the show he just witnessed, so he doesn't question it when Steve gets out of the car and calls him over to come in; he has something to show him. He just steps into the garage and walks over to where Steve is standing in front of the hood.

Suddenly, the garage door slides back down, shutting out the outside world and leaving them alone with Steve's car as the only witness to Steve pulling Eddie into a heated kiss.

At first Eddie is too shocked by the firm lips pressing against his to react. Steve's hands are fisted in his shirt and his mouth moves insistently against Eddie's, coaxing him to join their dance, and Eddie wonders if he's dreaming again. Because the last time Steve had kissed him like this, hungry, wanton, perfect, Eddie had woken up hard and lonely, with thoughts of his unattainably gorgeous neighbor.

A sharp nip to his lower lip convinces him that this is real, because it stings, in the best way, and Eddie's breath catches. His eyes open — when did he even close them? — to find Steve looking back at him, the lovely hazel of his eyes almost entirely consumed by the black of his dilated pupils. He licks Eddie's lower lips apologetically, soothing the sting his teeth have caused, before leaning back and watching him intently.

Eddie blinks at him, still processing but already missing Steve's lips on his. "Wha- I mean, why- uh, y'know —" He stumbles over the half-formed words in his head, searching for the right ones, preferably in the right order, but he's never been an overachiever, so he settles for the next best thing. "You kissed me."

Steve snorts. "What if I did?" he asks, looking up at Eddie from under his lashes, and he shouldn't be able to pull this off, they're the same height, but somehow he does. Eddie briefly wonders if his neighbor was designed by the government to eliminate their enemies by rendering them useless with lust. If so, he thinks it definitely works.

"Why? I mean..." Eddie trails off, thinks for a moment before he shrugs, "Yeah, no, I wanna know why."

"Well," Steve begins, suddenly sounding shy, even though the words that follow are anything but. "I noticed you couldn't keep your eyes off me today. In fact, I think you haven't been able to keep your eyes off me for a while now, huh?" His eyelashes flutter and it should look ridiculous, Steve is not one of Chrissy's girlfriends who often come over and flirt with Eddie like they can't believe he's gay and really not interested, batting their long eyelashes and curling their manicured petite hands around his arm.

No, Steve's face is all angles, strong jaw, broad face, prominent nose. His hands aren't petite, they're big and strong. So when he acts all shy, it should look silly, but when he puts his hand on Eddie's chest and bites his lips, Eddie's heart starts racing underneath. "But you never made a move, you just... kept looking. Which is fine, I mean, I like to be looked at, but a guy does have his limits, y'know. Had to take matters into my own hands, just to see if I was imagining things."

It took Eddie three tries to graduate high school, but he’s not dumb. He could basically hear the puzzle pieces fall into place in his head, but his voice is still full of disbelief when he asks, “You- you put on a show? For me?”

Steve snorts again. "Yeah, dude. I could just go to a car wash and get this beauty cleaned up in no time. It's just so much more fun to watch you get hard for me." His hand on Eddie's chest slides down, stopping just short of where Eddie wants it so badly, and he feels the remaining blood leave his brain at a rapid pace. "So what do you say?"

Eddie gulps, his mouth running before his brain can give any input, "You're not afraid of staining your sweetheart?"

Steve just shrugs and flashes Eddie a wolfish grin. "Well, I guess I could just wash it again then. Maybe lick it off. You wouldn't mind watching that, would you?"

And that's it, the thing that makes Eddie snap. He throws an arm around Steve's waist, pulls him close to his chest and grabs his ass with the other to lift him off the ground to lay him down on the hood of his car. "Stay," he almost growls, the hunger in his veins turning to greed as he leans back to take in the sight of Steve all laid out for him.

His hair is fanned out around his head like a halo, the vast expanse of sun-kissed skin ready to be marked and devoured. Eddie can see how turned on Steve already is; the surprise manhandling only adding fuel to the fire between them. His stiff nipples are visible through the now soaked white top, the red flush of arousal staining his chest and throat, and his chest is heaving with his ragged breathing. Eddie sees his hard dick straining against the wet material of his denim shorts and he thinks it must hurt to have the sensitive head rubbing against the stiff material with the way Steve’s hips keep squirming, mindlessly grinding his ass against the heated metal. Eddie wants to ruin him.

Steve seems to be on the same page because he spreads his legs wider and wraps them around Eddie's waist to pull him closer, ignoring Eddie's earlier order. Eddie comes tumbling forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of Steve's head and Steve pulls him down in another kiss, this one even more heated than the first. Steve licks into Eddie's mouth like he owns it and Eddie's head is already spinning from how fast they're going. It feels like the last three weeks have been one long foreplay and they can't wait a second longer. So when Steve starts sucking Eddie's tongue into his mouth, Eddie's arms give way and he crashes down on Steve, never stopping their kissing or the constant grinding of their hips against each other.

Not wasting another second, Steve takes advantage of their new position to get his hands under Eddie's shirt, nails scratching along his back. They're practically dry humping on the shiny hood of a BMW. Eddie's younger, non-conformist, capitalism-hating self would roll his eyes before applauding him for getting down and dirty with the hottest guy he's ever laid eyes on. He begins to put more force into the roll of his hips, pressing Steve harder against the metal beneath him, and Steve wrenches their mouths apart with a loud, drawn out moan.

He starts tugging at Eddie's shirt, grumbling, "Off. Get it off," against Eddie's mouth, and Eddie complies, leaning back just enough to pull his shirt over his head before coming back down to capture Steve's mouth in another kiss. The wet material of Steve's top is nice against Eddie’s heated skin, but he wants to feel Steve, only Steve, so he slips his hand beneath him and pulls him into a sitting position.

His hands make their way to Steve's waist to slip under his top, his fingertips touching Steve's stomach and Eddie feels the muscles flutter against them. He presses his hands down harder and begins to slide them up Steve's body, his eyes drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. There are more moles underneath and Eddie thinks Steve should be shirtless all the time so he can trace them with his fingers or his tongue whenever he wants. Steve giggles when Eddie's hands reach his rips and it's an unexpectedly delightful sound. Ticklish, Eddie notes on his mental list of things he knows about his neighbor. Cute is already there, so he doesn't have to add that one.

"Lift your arms for me, sweetheart," Eddie rasps, his voice already affected by the little they've done so far. Steve obeys easily, pleased to get what he wants, and Eddie has to kiss him. Just a quick press of lips, there and gone.

The gasp that comes from Steve's mouth is music to Eddie's ears as he slides his hands further up, his thumbs grazing Steve's nipples along the way. Steve is so responsive, so obvious and giving with his desire, and if that isn't the hottest thing ever, Eddie doesn't know what is.

He stops the upward slide of his hands at Steve's wrist and twists the material of his shirt around them, effectively tying them together, before placing his hand on the thick patch of dark hair on Steve's chest and pushing him back down onto the hood. Steve looks at Eddie with a dazed look in his eyes, his arms resting on the windshield above his head.

"What —" is all he manages to say, his former cockiness gone for the moment.

Eddie takes his time to look at the beautiful man laid out in front of him. Steve hasn't moved his hands, silent surrender in every line of his body. He's perfect. Steve is perfect.

"You're perfect," Eddie purrs. "Putting on such a hot show, just for me. So let me enjoy what you're offering, yeah?"

With that, Eddie leans down again and bites Steve's jaw, just below his ear. It's such an unexpected move that Steve gasps loudly, his hips shooting up as if Eddie had electrocuted him. He licks the bite mark soothingly before scraping his teeth down the column of Steve's throat to his collarbone, sucking the thin skin just above the bone into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth. As much as Steve tries to hold still and let Eddie explore his body, the need for friction seems to become too much, because Eddie feels the hard, thick line of his cock rubbing against his own crotch in incremental thrusts.

"Eddie, please, please, please," Steve begs, and Eddie thinks he doesn't even know what for. It's intoxicating, almost addictive, and he hopes this won't be the last time he gets high on Steve.

"So impatient," Eddie chides him, biting the firm flesh of his pec in warning.

Steve squirms under him but still manages to sound defiant as he says, "Oh fuck you, been waiting weeks to get your hands on me, I deserve a reward for my —" his words are cut short by a low fuck as Eddie sucks his nipple into his mouth and lets his tongue play with it.

"You deserve a reward for your fuck? I dunno, Stevie. We'll have to see, won't we?" Eddie smirks up at Steve, his chin digging into the nipple he just abused with his mouth.

"How about you get a move on so I can show you?"

Eddie resumes working his mouth down Steve's torso, biting and licking his chest, tracing the constellation of moles and freckles with his tongue, memorizing Steve's body by taste and smell alone. When he pulls his lower body away from Steve's to get a better angle, Steve whines at the loss and Eddie takes pity on him, offering his chest for Steve's dick to rub against instead. The hot flesh feels big, even through the jeans, a thick length that Eddie can't wait to get his mouth on.

"You can't wait to get my mouth on you, huh, big boy?"

Not waiting for an answer, Eddie slides further down and dips his tongue into Steve's navel, relishing the sounds that fall from Steve's mouth. It's like Steve can't keep them in, his body forced to be still, so he has to use his voice to let some of the overflowing feelings out of his body. Eddie decides to test how much longer Steve can keep his hands to himself.

His tongue leaves Steve's belly button and follows the tantalizing trail of dark hair down to the waistband of his shorts. He sucks the tender flesh into his mouth as well, leaving another mark. Looking up at Steve's torso, Eddie thinks he may have gone a bit overboard, because his skin is covered in bruises and bite marks, and something tells him that Steve is going to bitch about it later. For now, they both seem to be enjoying Eddie's more possessive side.

While his mouth is still busy sucking on Steve's skin, his hands begin to work on undoing his pants. The button is a bitch, the wetness makes it hard to move the material enough to pop the button free, but once that's done, he gets to hear the satisfying sound of the zipper going down. Next, his hands hook into the waist and slide the shorts off Steve's long, muscular legs, the material clinging to him and Eddie can't even blame it. They are gorgeous legs and Eddie would never want to be parted from them either, wants to have them around him all the time.

When he's finally pulled them all the way off, Eddie has to pause for a moment to take in the sight before him. He's almost dizzy with want, but frozen in place because there are so many things he wants to do to Steve right now, it's overwhelming. Steve lies there, miles and miles of golden skin, Eddie's marks like new stars born into existing constellations, adding to the sheer beauty of him.

Steve's hands are still above his head, the muscles in his arms bunching with his restraint to keep them there, his broad swimmer's back pushing his torso up in an arch that even Michelangelo could not have done justice. It tapers into a sturdy waist, his hipbones framing his dark crotch hair like a canvas. The thick thighs underneath quiver at the unnatural angle and Eddie wants to wrap them back around him. And he will, any second now. As soon as he is done burning all of this into his memory.

"Take a picture, it would last longer," Steve snarks, and Eddie is honestly impressed by the attitude. Apparently Steve Harrington is a little bitch, even with his cock dripping pre-cum and his hips writhing.

He does have a point though — it would. So Eddie pulls out his phone and snaps a picture.

"That better go in a private folder," Steve bitches, an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks, but Eddie can tell he's turned on, too, by the way more pre-cum drips down on his stomach. Interesting.

"Top of the spank bank, baby," Eddie promises as he drops to his knees in front of Steve.

He takes a second to slide his phone away to keep it safe before focusing all his attention on the cock right in front of him, mouth already flooded with saliva. Placing both of his hands on Steve's hips to hold him in place, he mouths up the hard length, starting at the base, all the way up to the leaking head. With his hands busy he has to use his tongue to lift Steve’s dick from where it's resting against his taut stomach to get it all the way into his mouth.

Eddie doesn't waste another second, sliding down and taking Steve into his throat.

Steve shoots up, his upper body lifting off the metal into a sitting position in one swift motion, his hands sliding out of their confines to bury themselves in Eddie’s hair.

Fuck, if that wasn't the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen. Hot enough that he decides he's done playing for now.

So instead of pulling off and putting Steve back in his place, he just increases his efforts, bobbing his head and making sure to swallow and moan around Steve whenever he hits his fluttering throat. It's uncomfortable with how big Steve is, almost painful, and Eddie loves every second of it. It makes him feel alive, powerful with how he can take Steve apart with just his mouth. There's something so rewarding about choking on a dick, pleasure that hits in a different way.

It's with regret that he pulls off after a few more minutes of indulging himself with the pleasure of Steve's weight on his tongue and the thickness filling his throat. But he has plans; wants to have Steve as addicted as Eddie already is. He needs him to come back for more, because now that he has had a taste, Eddie is not sure he can go back to being just neighbors waving hello to each other.

He kisses the spit-slick flesh down to Steve's balls, full with his need to come, sucks one into his mouth and rolls it around before doing the same to the other.

"You're a fucking - ah - fucking tease, anyone ever tell you that?"

Eddie drops the heavy sack from his mouth and bites into the tender flesh of Steve's inner thigh, earning himself a yelp and a hard yank of his hair from Steve's hands.

"They're usually not coherent enough for that. Looks like I'll have to work harder on you." To make his point, he pushes Steve back into a lying position. "Now hold still and let me ruin you, okay?"

"Fuck. You're going to be the death of me."

Right back at you, Eddie thinks. "But what a way to go."

With that, he slides his hands down the inside of Steve's thighs to his knees, spreading them wider and using the leverage to pull Steve closer to the edge of the hood. That way Eddie's face is exactly where he wants it — level with Steve's rim. He'd planned to give it the same devouring attention as his dick, using his tongue and lips until Steve was a quivering mess above him. Then he would have added his fingers, stretching him on them, fingering him until he came without anything else.

It's a good plan. A great plan even. What isn't part of the plan, though, is the sight of something already spearing Steve open.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie breathes out as he sees the base of a black plug in Steve's ass, his eyes wide in disbelief. If being here in Steve's garage, ready to fuck each other senseless, feels like a fever dream, then this is like being dropped into a porn version of the Twilight Zone.

His eyes are glued to Steve's rim clutching a fucking buttplug, but he doesn't need to see it to hear the smirk in Steve's smug voice. "Cat got your tongue?"

That snaps Eddie out of his stupor and he looks up at Steve, who's leaning on his forearms, actually smirking down at him. "No, but there's a big ass plug where my tongue should be."

The picture Eddie just painted seems to hit Steve exactly where Eddie wanted it to, as he sees him squirm, nudging his ass closer to Eddie's face, wonderfully unashamed in his need. "So do something about it."

Eddie slowly moves his hand up Steve's leg again, letting it follow the same path as before, starting at the knee and working up the inside thigh to the crease of his groin until his thumb can trace the outer edge of the plug. The skin still has traces of lube on it and Eddie smears it around the rim, wedging the tip of his thumb between the silicone and muscle, causing Steve to hiss under his breath.

Eddie watches his finger circle the plug in amazement, consumed by the overwhelmingly hot idea of Steve prepping himself, maybe even bending over the car in his garage, one hand on the hood while the other works in the plug, his dick hanging heavy and neglected between his legs. Let him be smug, Eddie thinks, he deserves it,. Because Steve Harrington just keeps on blowing his goddamn mind.

Still, he has to poke the bear a little, because the cocky, confident side of Steve is really, really working for him.

"Were you really this confident that washing your car would get me in here?"

"If it didn't work, it still made washing it a hell of a lot more exciting," Steve counters, and doesn't that add fuel to the fire that's burning in his veins.

Eddie has no trouble imagining the way the plug would move inside Steve; its heavy weight pulling at his rim, so Steve would have to clench his hole to hold it in place. Steve’s mind would be constantly aware of it, all his senses focused on the thickness inside of him, every little movement igniting sparks of arousal. Eddie can imagine Steve moving just enough to push it against his prostate, his muscles working to suck it in deeper, tightening around it so the pressure against his inner walls would be even more intense.

Eddie is pulled out of the fantasy he's lost in when Steve tells him, "Lube and condoms are on the bench over there," nodding toward the workbench where, among tools and equipment, Eddie sees a bottle of lube and some shiny packages of condoms. He has no idea how he missed them earlier and can only blame the siren call of Steve's body.

Eddie presses a final kiss to Steve's thigh, just above where he bit earlier, and wastes no time getting up and grabbing the things he needs. Before making his way back to where Steve is waiting impatiently with hooded eyes, Eddie makes quick work of taking off his own pants and boxers. Steve's eyes turn even darker at the sight of Eddie's hard dick and Eddie can't help but give it a few tugs, putting on his own show just for Steve.

"If you don't get your ass over here in the next five seconds, I'm doing this without you," Steve almost growls, his hand already moving between his legs.

Eddie is over there in three long strides, slapping Steve's hand away and wrapping his own around Steve's dick. "Uh uh, sweetheart. That's mine today."

He puts the lube and a condom on the hood of the car next to Steve with his other hand and pulls Steve in for another open-mouthed kiss. But as Steve grows impatient, his legs wrap around Eddie's waist again, tight enough to pull him in and urge him to get on with it.

But instead of giving Steve what he wants, Eddie decides to stick to his original plan, adding the plug to torture Steve even more. He grabs Steve's knees to entangle himself from their demanding pull, and drops to his knees again. Who says he can't put his mouth on Steve with the plug still inside him?

So he does just that, bringing his mouth to Steve's rim and licking a wide strip across it before letting his tongue trace the edge of the plug. As he nudges the tip of his tongue under the edge and inside, Steve gasps as he presses his ass more firmly against Eddie's face. It's hard to smirk when your face is buried in someone's ass, but Eddie manages it anyway. Two can play this game.

Eddie brings his fingers into the mix next. He grips the plug and tugs on it, just a little, just enough to watch Steve's rim cling to it as it slowly slides an inch or two out of his ass. "Look at you, so desperate to be full, your ass gripping that plug so tight. I can't wait until it's my dick you're gripping."

Steve squirms at his words, his hips now moving relentlessly, seeking the pleasure Eddie has so far denied him.

"More. Fuck, Eddie. I need more. Come on."

And Eddie gives him more, sort of, pushing the plug back in before tugging again, this time pulling it out even further, twisting it back and forth as it slides out of Steve, glistening with lube. As he pushes it back in, his finger joins, worming its way in as well. It’s a snug fit, the pressure against his finger intense. He slides the plug and his finger in and out a few more times before finally pulling it free, going deliberately slow and reveling in the whine that leaves Steve's lips as he does so.

The plug is dropped on top of Steve's discarded shorts before he dives right back in, fastening his mouth to Steve's empty, twitching hole and pushing his tongue deep inside. Steve yelps in obvious surprise, but it soon turns into a loud, shameless moan.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," he curses, his hips undulating against Eddie's face, "you don't - hnng, yes there, fuck - have t- that's what the plug was for," Steve complains, but there is no heat in it. Or believability. Not with the way he tries to sit up and shove Eddie away, only to clench his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling his face even tighter against his grinding hips as he leans back down. Steve is greedy in his lust and Eddie has never been more turned on in his life.

Eddie keeps eating Steve out like he’s his favorite meal. The thighs clamped tightly around his head tremble and Steve sounds like he's almost crying, his voice reedy as he begs Eddie to just fuck him already. And as much as he loves reducing Steve to this wanton, needy mess, Eddie's dick is so hard it's bordering on painful.

Still, before he plunges into the tight heat that’s waiting for him, Eddie wants to make sure the plug has done its proper job first, so he coats his fingers with lube and rubs them together to warm it up. He sinks two fingers in at once, watching Steve's face intently as they slide in with ease to the last knuckle. There's no sign of discomfort, just a fucked out expression looking back at him. The third he adds is met with a little more resistance, a tiny wrinkle between Steve's eyebrows telling him it stings, but Eddie still thinks it will be fine if he goes slow. At least as slow as their desire-drunk bodies will allow.

As if reading his mind, Steve looks him in the eye and says, "I'm not made of glass, Eddie." It's not bitchy like Eddie expected, but almost soft, reassuring.

He curls his fingers inside Steve one last time, drinking in the whimper Steve can't seem to hold back, before pressing a kiss to the tip of Steve's dick. "Okay, okay, I got you."

Eddie reaches for the condom, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth (Steve's not the only one who likes to put on a show, okay) and puts it on his dick before generously coating it with more lube. It's cold on his overheated flesh, sending a shiver down his spine, but he figures it'll soon warm up once he's inside Steve.

Placing one hand next to Steve's head, he uses the other to line himself up. As he nudges against Steve's entrance, Eddie leans forward to catch Steve's lips in another kiss, sliding his tongue into Steve's mouth at the same time his head breaches Steve's rim. He swallows the gasp from Steve's mouth and pushes forward, sinking deeper and deeper into the tight clutch of Steve's ass.

They both have to catch their breath when Eddie finally bottoms out, Eddie's forehead resting against Steve's, the moment unexpectedly tender.

"Good?"

"Perfect," Steve murmurs, his eyes closing in pleasure as Eddie slowly draws back to thrust again. He's quieter now that Eddie's finally fucking him, little gasps and breathless ah ah ahs escaping him as Eddie's hips pick up speed. Eddie's so close, but he wants Steve to come first, had planned to make that happen without a hand on Steve's dick, only it looks like that won't happen before Eddie loses it himself. But as he reaches down between them to take Steve in his hand, Steve's own hand catches his, lacing their fingers together and placing their hands next to his head.

"So close, don't - don't need it, just keep going, keep going."

Without both hands to hold himself up, Eddie sinks down onto Steve, and Steve squeezes his hand as Eddie fucks into him. He's not prepared for the way this simple, sweet gesture shoots through him, his orgasm taking him completely by surprise.

"Fuck, no- oh, fuck," he moans, his pleasure too intense for words as he spills into the condom, his hips still working as aftershocks run through him.

Eddie buries his face in Steve's neck, his body still twitching but his mind starting to race. He fucked up. He had a plan and he blew it, coming too soon like a teenager just because his crush was holding his hand. Steve went out of his way to get them here, prepped himself, plugged himself, washed his car in the most indecent outfit he could find - washed his car.

Eddie remembers Steve talking about licking his cum off his car and he's struck with an idea.

He gingerly pulls out, all the while kissing Steve to distract him from the sting (and to apologize for seemingly leaving him hanging). As soon as his softening dick slips free, he stands up again, pulling Steve upright with their hands still clasped and an arm around his waist. Steve stumbles against him, catching himself with a hand on Eddie's chest. "What —"

"Oh, we're not done, sweetheart," Eddie purrs, turning Steve over so that Steve's back is to him.

He thrusts three fingers back inside Steve without warning, his other arm still wrapped around Steve's waist to keep him pressed against Eddie. His hand reaches down to grab Steve in a firm grip, spreading the copious amount of pre-cum that has pooled on the head with his thumb before he begins to slowly pump Steve. It's probably too dry, but the wounded sounds Steve makes are only one third pain and two parts pleasure, so he doesn’t stop.

Eddie's fingers fuck Steve relentlessly from behind, pumping in and out, prodding along his walls until he finds that one spot that makes Steve whimper and hump Eddie's hand. Once he’s found it, Eddie keeps his fingers there, massaging the spot until Steve comes with a hoarse scream all over his precious car.

Eddie keeps going until the sounds Steve keeps making become pitiful, the overstimulation obviously turning painful. Only then does he pull his fingers out of Steve and lets go of his dick.

Steve turns around in his arms, his weight sagging against Eddie, who happily holds him against his chest and kisses him.

They're both sticky with cum and lube and sweat but they couldn't care less about it right now. It's a sweet kiss, the softness a stark contrast to what they just did, and Eddie can't get enough. Every time one of them starts to pull away, the other follows for another kiss. It is only when Eddie feels that they are both beginning to shiver that he stops Steve from following him again with a hand that cups his cheek.

"We should get cleaned up."

"Hmmmm," Steve agrees, "we should." But he doesn't make a move to do so, just presses himself closer to Eddie. It's adorable, and Eddie can't help but kiss him on the nose for it.

"Come on, Steve. Let's go inside and clean up. Put on some dry clothes and —"

"Fuck again."

"Jesus Christ."

"Nah, you can call me Steve." Steve winks at him and Eddie wants to reaffirm his earlier thought. His neighbor is going to be the death of him. "And don't worry, we can work on your stamina next time," Steve adds, a mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes.

Eddie can't wait.

________________________________________________________

A heartfelt shout-out and thank you to my two favorite enablers, @legitcookie and @yournowheregirl for their endless support and cheerleading. This story wouldn't be what it is without you. You're the best 💜

#steddie #steddie smut #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #modern au #neighbours #steve in indecent denim shorts and a white tank top washing his car - that's the visual #you're welcome #this is nothing but self-indulgent smut born by Alice and me discussing sexy car washing for charity #as it happens #nsft #my writing #thank you to Alice and Jen for delivering encouragement vibes visuals and most of all thirsty headcanons on a daily

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starbanmk · 3 months

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Something Stupid - Frank Sinatra

(a little blurb to go along with the animation under more)

This world was colder than Ashswagg would've liked it. He supposed it made sense, though, he should've seen the low temperature coming. This world was primarily covered in oceans, and he and his teammate had holed themselves up in a secret cave base deep under the water. The air felt wet, the stone walls and floors cold to the touch. It was bearable when Ash was wearing his armour, layered and less susceptible to the cold air touching his skin. When he took off his armour when he was trying to sleep, though, the hair on Ash's bare arms would stand on end, his skin prickling in the cold. Ash curled into himself, careful not to take too much of the blanket he was sharing with his business partner, Reddoons. They'd pushed their beds together in hopes they'd be able to keep eachother warm, but Ash had found Red too hot to touch. He found himself avoiding physical contact like the plague, which was hard when they'd been sleeping inches apart for the past couple of nights. Ash could either be too hot or too cold. It was easier to be cold. In the mornings, Ash would wake up before Red, inching quietly out of bed to go manually mine some more trash. He needed to feel busy in this world. He was there to work, not to complain about the temperature or snuggle up with his business partner. Ash and Red didn't talk about their sleeping arrangements during the working day. It didn't fit the puzzle of who they were, here, now, in this lifetime. Their allegiance was strictly professional here, they were only working together to make money and raise charity for the very seas that kept Ash cold at night. It wasn't professional to sleep in the same bed. But it was necessary so they wouldn't freeze to death. The lack of warmth was killing Ash. Ash closed his eyes and hoped he'd stop thinking. He needed to ignore the cold, ignore how Red was right there, ignore what they were in other worlds so he could focus on what they're supposed to be in this one. Ash's eyes were shut, tight, in the way that took effort, in the way that wasn't relaxing, in the way that was more for ignoring what was in front of you than for sleeping. Red's warm breath on his face tickled Ash's eyelashes. Ash almost missed the whisper. It didn't sound real, it didn't sound tangible. Ash thought he might've imagined it, it didn't sound like it had come from right in front of him. It sounded far away, like a call from the end of a tunnel, a tunnel that led to another universe, different from Ash's own. Warmer than his own. I love you. Ash had to stop himself from choking. That's not how they were here. It ached, but that wasn't how things were. The three, simple words hung in the air, and Ash's body flushed as he suddenly felt very warm. Too warm. It wasn't a sensation he'd felt yet in this world, it didn't belong here. His eyes flew open, ready to do.. something. Yell at Red? Make fun of him? Say nothing? Say it back? What was professional? What was allowed? Ash found he always felt this way when worlds were new. He was still trying to understand the rules, and how he fit in. His eyes finally focused after he'd opened them, which took longer than he would've liked. He realised he'd been closer to sleep than he had thought. Red's eyes were closed. He was asleep, carefully inches away from Ash. Close, but never touching, the ghost of Red's breath was the only thing caressing Ash's face. He hadn't said anything. Ash relaxed back into the mattress, only then realising he'd tensed up. It was nothing. Maybe it was a memory.

#swagdoons #reddoons #ashswag #ashswag fanart #reddoons fanart #animation #team seas charity server #swagdoonsverse #something stupid #frank sinatra #multiverse #theyre so #i cant with them #flipaclip #rocco art #rocco writing

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rogue-gambit-fan-zine · 15 days

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Hey all! The wheel has been spun and we're announcing the winners of our free Giveaway!

Drum roll please!

The four lucky winners of a free fanzine & full digital bundle are:

* PunkerDuckie (Twitter user)

* rfin (Twitter user)

* @cyborgartalchemist

* @annalebeaus

And the winner of a full fanzine, merch & digital bundle is:

* @gina-chan1979

Congratulations to you all!!!

Please DM us with an e-mail address & mailing address so we can add you to our preorders list!

(We'll be contacting Twitter users that entered separately on that platform)

Condolences to all who didn't win, but thanks for playing and we hope you consider sticking around to support Rogue, Gambit, & the zine!

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silver-grasp · 11 months

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It's been said before but Dishonored really hit upon a wild and hilarious worldbuilding concept when they made the basic principles of the main fundamentalist-type religion "god is definitely real but he's EVIL and must be thwarted and resisted." Like they don't seem to believe in any "true" god in place of the Outsider? They don't seem to worship or talk about any other deity, and while they have the seven Strictures those don't seem to have been handed down by any higher power. I think it's actually a kind of galaxy-brained commentary on various forms of fundamentalist Christianity that are like, far more concerned with "influences of Satan!!!" than anything else, but I'm not sure whether that was intentional or not lol.

#dishonored #that conclusion came to me as I was writing the post #like damn evangelicals sure seem to care more about satanism!! or the devil!! or the antichrist!!#than doing any of the charity jesus said was a good idea #the overseers sort of take that to its logical extreme #there is no god but beware the devil!!

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aeide-thea · 1 year

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as a result of having been a jerk* recently i'm thinking about this:

Exercising restraint is hard. Protecting other people from the full brunt of our frustration—which is almost always driven by underlying fear, insecurities, and anxiety—takes work. We want to give in to the urge to wallow, to do damage, to invite company into our misery. We also can feel closer to others when we expose them to our raw emotion, and if there’s one reliable truth about human psychology, it’s that we desire connection so much that we’ll take it in negative forms when we can’t get positive ones. But venting often doesn’t work to enhance intimacy; it can even isolate us further, whether we’re talking about getting a bad rep among our colleagues for being a negative Nancy, undermining our partner’s sense of trust and safety, or having people in our social circles associate us with stress. Venting isn’t good for us in other ways, too. When our thoughts center on how we’ve been hurt and victimized, we feel less empowered and more out of control. Fred Luskin, a forgiveness researcher at Stanford University, calls this a “grievance narrative.” In a 2006 study, Luskin and his colleagues discovered that replaying a grievance narrative both internally and externally causes our bodies to remain in a state of threat. Those who participated in a forgiveness training program felt less fired up and on edge (55th percentile for anger, compared with normal adults) than a control group (72nd percentile). Another study, which included 60 female participants, found that ruminating about ill will can significantly increase blood pressure. Scratch that bite now, and it only gets itchier later. None of this means you should repress your emotions, never grouse to your loved ones, or otherwise lean into what Whitney Goodman writes about in the book Toxic Positivity. In fact, studies on “social sharing” show that the productiveness of this type of venting depends on how it’s done. According to a 2019 paper, “When Chatting About Negative Experiences Helps—and When It Hurts,” recounting a negative experience takes you right back there emotionally and physiologically, just like the grievance narrative research shows. That leads to an increase in negativity. Friends who respond by comforting you provide a balm in the moment, according to a 2009 paper by Bernard Rimé of the Université catholique de Louvain, but that kind of support doesn’t help process the gripe or trauma. That’s why we’ll often find ourselves hanging up with one friend and calling another. As he put it, “No consistent empirical support was found for the common view that putting an emotional experience into words can resolve it.” We “equate emotional relief with emotional recovery,” but they’re not the same, he said, making that temporary blood pressure dip make a whole lot more sense. That said, the 2019 paper reported that chatting with friends can bring closure when they help you reconstrue an event, rather than just recount it. What does that look like? Asking why you think the other person acted that way, prodding to see whether there’s anything to be learned from it all, and just generally broadening your perspective to “the grand scheme of things.”

#* initially i was like 'dick' and then i was like 'but dicks are good actually!' same problem with 'ass.' critical language difficult.#anyway the writing style of this is Extremely Slate and you (like me) may find it irritating! but i do think the insight is valuable.#gotta get back to blogging my way *into* more charity with other people instead of out of it.#like if i'm complaining abt people being unsympathetic i'm still on a meta-level being unsympathetic myself.#useful reframings

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jun-of-love · 10 months

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kiss cam - lee seokmin

summary: an extra ticket. a pathetic stranger. a kiss cam. what could possibly go wrong?

tw: none

words: 1.7k

genre: fluff

pairing: yn × dokyeom

a/n: dk is the cutest most precious talented man ever- i was overwhelmed with his sunshine and spontaneously came up with this. hope you like it :)

It’s been a month or so.

A month since you saw your ex, who was once the light of your life, soundly sleeping in some other girl’s arms, butt naked at that. You grimace as the scene plays out in your head again, making you feel the same way it did the first time it happened. You had immediately cut off all contact from him to the point that you had moved to a new place, just so that he didn’t have any access to you. You wanted to see him grovel and beg for your forgiveness, or at least take excruciating revenge for wasting two years of your life, but you let it all go for your own peace and self-respect. All of these drastic measures, yet your stupid heart mourned the absence of the heartless man.

You looked the tickets on your table. You had gone through hoops to get a hold of them, the key to the best seats possible for the finals of the Ice Hockey tournament. While you personally had no interest in the game, your ex was super into the niche sport- the tickets were supposed to be his early birthday gift. You shook your head, trying to get out of the sobby mood. So what if he wasn’t here? You went above and beyond for these tickets, and you will have the best possible experience of the game anyone can have!

Easier said than done, you thought, as your loneliness pinched more with every couple or big group of friends passed by you. They didn’t have the best seats like you did, but they were surely going to have the best time with their friends and partners. You were seriously contemplating giving away the tickets and going home when you heard exasperated yelling by the ticket verification stand. It seemed like a man was throwing a tantrum, and the authorities were close to calling the security on him. The man turned away angrily, sniffling and wiping his tears.

You carefully approached the man, partly because you intrigued by his condition, and partly because he was hot. Everyone knows that stranger danger reduces by 30 percent if the stranger is hot. 50 percent if he is smoking hot.

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

The man looked at you. Even with his tearful eyes and runny nose, he had a certain charm about him. The kind that made you want to hug him till he felt okay. Pathetic charm, if you will.

“I got scammed. The agent I bought the tickets from sold me fake tickets and I’m obviously not able to reach him now-” He put his head in his hands. “I really wanted to watch this game, it’s the last game my favorite player is going to play before he retires.”

You take a look at his jersey. He supported the same team you were planning to root for- mainly due to the reason because that is the one that played opposite to your ex’s favorite team. You eyed the two tickets in your purse, feeling a flutter in your stomach- you might not have all that a terrible time today.

“You want to accompany me? I have an extra ticket.” You asked him, already knowing his answer.

“Are you joking right now? Are you another scammer? Please, I don’t have any money left, please don’t play with my feelings.” He seems so innocent; you resist the urge to pull his cheeks.

“I don’t know, do scammers give away tickets for free?” You say cockily, clearly enjoying this too much.

“For free?!?!?!!?” His eyes almost fell out of their sockets. “Why would you do that!?”

“Because I bought these tickets to watch the game with my boyfriend, but he decided to cheat on me and now he’s my ex and I’m at this game alone with an extra ticket in my hand.” You offer him the ticket, “do you mind being my date for tonight?”

“Date?” He asks, his eyes round and expressions eerily similar to a cute puppy.

“You know what I mean!” You cleared your throat. “Anyway, yes or no?”

“YES!”

The entire time you took to reach your seats, your date did not stop talking for even a minute. By now, you knew that he came from a family of four, his best friends were called Jeonghan and Mingyu, none of them had any interest in this sport which is why he was alone. He was not shy around people (evidently so) and his favourite colour was green. It did not get boring though, for some reason. It just made you want to know more about him.

Once you were settled in your seats, you decide to disturb your date from his awe of the view, “You never told me your name.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m Seokmin. You can also call me Dokyeom.” Seokmin flashes a smile that could soothe a crying baby.

“Why would I call you Dokyeom if your name is Seokmin?”

“It’s actually because my mom and my dad had differ-”

“Never mind, hello, my name is y/n.” You put your hand forward. “Nice to meet you.”

Seokmin smiles again, shaking your hand. You didn’t know the standard time duration of a handshake, but you were sure yours was taking a bit too long. You shyly remove your hand from his, and ask the most embarrassing question of the night, ”So before the game starts, can you tell me a little about the team we’re supporting right now? I know nothing.” You bite your lip, hoping he wouldn’t take offence at the statement.

Seokmin laughs a little, “I will try to let you know as much as possible, but feel free to ask questions even during the game if you want. I like to share my interests, you know.” And off he went, about the players and their positions, and who played the best and who was the weakest and his favorite player who was retiring- and you had to fight yourself to pay attention because all your damn mind could think of at the moment was how kissable his lips are and how endearing he looked with all his excitement. A month without any action and you were already losing your marbles. You nod along with him until the horn goes off signaling the beginning of the match. Seokmin jumps up at the sight of the players and cheers for them, leaving you to wonder how a person can store so much excitement in them.

Gradually, you started getting into it. The complicated sport seemed so easy now, almost too easy. You knew which players were reliable, and you found one or two that you would root for. Everyone around you felt like your childhood friends, cheering for your favourite team. You look at Seokmin, who shook your arm every time something exciting happened in the game, its been an hour since you both had been acquainted, and his wide smile had not budged even for a second. You feel warmth in your heart as you realize, you were having so much fun.

For the first time in thirty days, you were not moping around or crying, but actually smiling, ear to ear at that. Enthusiasm had to be contagious, because if not, why were you yelling at the top of your voice, clapping till your arms hurt and high fiving everyone around you? Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was his beautiful smile, you felt a special fondness towards Seokmin, the kind that made you blush every time he grabbed your hand.

It was the intermission, and both of you were relatively relaxed since your team had been doing pretty well. You were explaining your exact job description to him, since he seemed so curious about everything in your life. Almost like it was his life’s mission to write a biography on you by the end of those three hours. You just noticed how he still hadn’t let go of your hand, when you were interrupted by loud audience cheers; it was the crowd’s favorite pastime: the Kiss Cam.

Personally, you loved things like these. You loved how couples were caught off-guard with their faces on the screen, and then continued to have their own little moment. Embarrassingly enough, you had pictured yourself getting proposed (by your snake of an ex) on one of such instances, where the kiss cam would focus on you both and then he would pull out a ring and-

A particularly loud cheer from people around you woke you up from your thoughts. A part of your imagination had come to life- you were indeed on the kiss cam screen. With Seokmin at that. You both meet eyes and you feel awkwardness seizing every nerve of yours. While he is busy calming down the crowd with hands, making the ‘X’ gesture and shaking his head politely, you wonder if this was an opportunity to do what you had been wishing to do all this time. As the crowds’ cheers of “Kiss him! Kiss him!” get louder (have people always been so nosy?), you grab him by his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Can I kiss you?”

He smiles softly, putting his warm hand on your neck, “I was hoping you’d ask.”

He closes the gap between you two by putting his lips on yours, pulling you in by the back of the neck. You could hear the crowd react, but you didn’t care- your senses were overloaded by his expensive perfume and how good his lips felt on yours. You deepened the kiss, your hands around his neck, playing with his hair. He puts an arm around your waist, pulling you closer than possible. His body feels hot and perfect to yours it feels to good to be true. That is until a middle-aged woman coughed loudly behind you, forcing both of you to pull away.

People were now minding their own business, looking put off even, by the overboard of affection portrayed by you. These were the same people that put you in that spot in the first place, you scoffed at the thought. You turned to Seokmin, who was already looking at you with the most doe-eyed gaze possible. You giggle, “What is it? What do you want to say?”

“Would you go out on a date with me? Like officially?” He bites his lips, as if he doesn’t know the obvious answer.

“Sure,” you smile cockily, “but you’re paying.”

“I’ll pay for every date ever if it means I get to kiss you again.”

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