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#in a parasocial sort of way but just like

placefaraway · 10 months

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i watched one (1) video of clips of hakka playing some game you control with your voice a few weeks ago and my brain absolutely latched on to that purple exorcist bird boy and Has Not let go since. it doesnt help that i also have been listening to shattered wings, raven's paradigm, and his covers of killing me, living ghost is alive, and marchen boyfriend and marchen girlfriend with flay on repeat for like two weeks, too.

yt also rec'd me a bunch of other clips so all of vanguard has been living rent free in my head the past few weeks but its been mostly hakka

i want to reblob posts and yell about them on here but theres not nearly as much holo⭐s stuff (emoji added to avoid this getting in the tag), or at least i dont see as much holo⭐s stuff, as the girl's get (though dont get me wrong the girls are great too i am so excited for advent :D but its the boys i am all about rn for some reason), so alas

i got today off work and i ended up watching the last 4 hours of hakka slowly losing his mind playing only up, then getting sent off with the raid to watch flayon use a period cramps simulator for an hour, so i guess ill just think about that for the next 48 hours lol

#i thought about putting this in the tags but decided against it #i am in love with his voice but not like #in a parasocial sort of way but just like #the way of sometimes you hear someone talk or sing and their voice just #hits your ears in just the right way and youre like ''yes. that. do more of that please i want to listen''#honestly i have no idea why my brain has so thoroughly latched onto the vanguard guys but i guess this just happen sometimes #its not quite a hyperfixation but its somethin #flayon's stream today Did Not Help at all lmao that was. hmmm.......#this may end up in some tag anyway because of the words in the post maybe i should use a read more lol #so randos in the tag arent subjected to my.... ehatever this is #thanks tumblr for making serching tags also search posts. real great feature there. 👌

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softpine · 1 month

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can i just word vomit for a min...

there was a point in late 2023 where i felt like i overstayed my welcome on simblr and i planned on just wrapping frozen pines up as quickly as possible and moving on. continuing to write when it's clear that the audience for it is dwindling felt so embarrassing that i almost didn't even want to put effort into it anymore, because i was afraid it just looked pathetic (obligatory disclaimer: no one made me feel this way, you're all so lovely, it's just the nature of seeing a community change over 7 years). writing already feels very personal to me and it's becoming increasingly harder for me to put my work out there (again, for reasons unrelated to simblr and entirely related to mental illness 🤙🏻). i know my story is so long that it deters new readers, and so sporadic that it makes old readers drop off with time. this has really been bothering me lately because i don't know what i can do to fix it. i don't think there IS anything i can do.

but. okay. don't make fun of me for saying this. dan and phil returning to youtube kinda changed my mindset? they may be pulling a fraction of the views they got in their peak, but they're happier than they've ever been and they're working on things they actually want to do, not things they think will be particularly popular. seeing that has made me realize that it is possible to keep finding joy in a community that has largely moved on without you. obviously my little blog is nowhere near the same scale, so this feels kind of silly, but i've been thinking about all the things i used to do on simblr that were never fun for me, i mainly did them because i knew they would get notes or because i felt like i had to do it. making cc, lookbooks, sim requests, reshade help (oh my god the reshade help), lot downloads, etc. they DID get notes, but i can't imagine spending my time doing any of that stuff ever again tbh.

on top of that, it makes me sad to scroll through my dash and realize that i don't recognize most of the people i see anymore. i still talk to some wonderful people here who i consider friends and that's invaluable to me (💖), but the broader community aspect is something i no longer feel a part of. and believe me, i know i'm at fault here because it's not like i'm going out of my way to talk to new people or participate in trends like i used to. i don't blame anyone except the passage of time!!

frozen pines, and simblr by extension, played such a gigantic part in my life when i needed it the most. and that's not to say that i don't still care about it, because i absolutely do, but it's a different kind of feeling. i've always promised that i would give frozen pines a satisfying conclusion rather than silently abandoning it someday, and though i do intend to keep that promise, i know it's possible that i might never get there. but i don't want to let my own insecurities get in the way of something i really enjoy doing. writing is an intrinsic piece of me that i'll never quit doing, but sharing my writing on tumblr is something that can't (and shouldn't) last forever. i know that. but i'm going to enjoy it to the fullest while we're all still here together 💞

to anyone who's still reading my silly story after all these years (especially those of you who still check in on my blog even though you're not on simblr anymore): thank you thank you thank you THANK YOUUU. you don't have to change a single thing about what you're doing. this is not me fishing for compliments or putting down an ultimatum, this is just me trying to make sense of my feelings.

but with all this being said, i've decided to quit simblr and start my own exclusive streaming service for $60 a year, i hope you'll all support me as i increase my production value 😌

(just kidding. ily. okay that's all)

#to be 100% clear this is not a goodbye - i'm literally halfway done with the next story post #just sort of an update on the state of my brain #👍🏻#btw...... sorry to Watcher fans lmaoo you guys really got the short end of the parasocial relationship stick..... </3 #that's not relevant to anything i've said here i've just spent way too much time thinking about how youtube has changed in the past 20 year #because i'm a loser that got really into youtube when i was 11 and never looked back #and then the watcher thing happened. and i was like ohhh if dan and phil did that to me i would have to die about it.

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philsdrivinglicence · 29 days

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Was in London for the weekend and took my bf to Bone Daddies without telling him why until after we sat down.

He made fun of me the appropriate amount.

Can confirm dnp have good taste. New fave ramen place. I am very sad I can't get it whenever I want.

#phan #dan and phil #dnp #yapping #demon phannie hours #feeling parasocial #bone daddies #i swear we didn't go out of our way #we were just walking past looking for places to eat and had already decided on asian of some sort i swear #and i was like hmm #this place doesn't have a line...#also I swear I recognise the name from somewhere 👀

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sexcromancy · 2 years

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I just don't think MS is very good at tragedy or consequences... like I think that she is very interested in the cyclical nature of life and struggling with the same things over and over (win for me) but she also wants a happy ending with relatively little death/significant loss (and/or I have a suspicion that this is what she/publishers know readers want) so like even though dreamer trilogy seems to be logically leading towards some sort of cataclysmic end, it actually ends with a wedding, the archetypal happiest ending. it could be seen as triumphant or it could be seen as tonally inconsistent. I don't really know where I land yet on this; I am inclined to see the cyclical struggles of the characters as ongoing, that Ronan will, again and again, face the horror of living in a world that is not for you and being not of this world, but I don't know if that's actually supported by the text or that's just what I'm putting on it due to my own worldview.

#like in some ways i guess it DOES sort of just feel like they killed the big bad and now its all ok.... and thats just ronans arc #several of the others absolutely did not get the resolutions they deserve #im really bad at being analytical about these books but i am trying to engage critically lol #also sorry this seems really parasocial im basing it off all of her books not just tdt and trc

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kissmefriendly · 2 years

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I had to grab some cash really fast because Tesco wasn’t taking card and when I get to the cash point it’s like Hi there, you want money? We’ll have this picture of the Queen instead saying how much We All Mourn and Miss Her.

Like at this point, I don’t care. I feel like people have moved on or ought to have. Maybe it’s just where I live in England? But Christ alive let’s just please put this queen stuff behind? And move on? Please?

#it wasn’t an emergency but STILL #like you serious? it could have just been that particular cash point #I didn’t have time to run all the way to the main street to check :/#anyways #Idk - is it because I’m predisposed to antiauthoritanism #or maybe coz I’m a dual citizen of two of her stolen nations #either way. this is out of hand #England PLEASE go see a grief expert ffs #I’m serious if this was a person I knew acting like this over a parasocial bond I’d send them straight to a professional to sort it out #but it may have just been my cash point

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transmascissues · 11 months

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god, stuff like this is such a punch to the gut. i usually don’t feel that emotionally affected by comments like this other than being angry at them, but it’s so different when it’s someone i genuinely really respect, who seems to be very conscious of these things, who’s making a point of being a vocal ally, and they still just don’t see how people really treat us.

so much of the current legislation against trans healthcare (i would argue the vast majority of it, if not literally all of it) is founded upon denial of our bodily autonomy and fearmongering about our transitions. people call us predators and abusers for having and feeding our children. a huge number of people pretty recently jumped on a singular incidence of violence as “proof” that testosterone turns us all into evil monsters. people talk about how we’re stealing our bodies from them and say that if they could just grope us or have sex with us, we’d see that we’re really women. we ask for something as simple as the use of language that includes us so that we can better access the healthcare we need, and even that is asking too much.

but sure, people don’t really have a problem with us being men, so everyone can just stop bothering with affirming that we are who we say we are because clearly people are already on board with that idea, right?

and of course, it’s upsetting on a personal (one might say parasocial) level because it just sucks to see someone you respect openly state that they don’t think the things happening to your community are really happening. that was the initial reaction i had — i know this is one person, a fallible person, who i have no true relationship with, but it still feels like a betrayal of some sort to read that.

the thing that really gets me, though, is that there are a lot of people who trust him (whether rightly or not) to be a good source of info, and a lot of those people are going to see this and just take it at face value. they’re not going to look into it, they’re just going to accept that people really don’t have a problem with us and they’re going to feel empowered to look the other way when we’re under attack. i’m sure he wouldn’t want people to take the things he says at face value without fact-checking them, but the fact remains that most people will do just that and will proceed to not give a shit about us because they don’t think they have to.

it’s one thing to see this coming from some random person. it’s another entirely when it’s someone you already liked and respected, and who has a large audience who are likely to trust the things they say.

and it just…would’ve been so easy to not say it, to just say “they’re men!” and let that message stand without immediately undermining its importance.

#i dont give a shit about what garden variety transphobes think but shit like this? yeah that hurts #i usually dont love ‘trans men are men’ being The Ally Statement but god. the implications of even That being seen as overkill #like no!!!! we need people saying MORE than that not justifying why they dont have to say anything at all!!!!!!!#examples of transandrophobia #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #trans men #transmascs

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hannie-dul-set · 1 month

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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats.

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.”

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss.

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of.

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?”

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out.

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting.

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack.

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream).

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?”

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.”

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you.

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation.

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all.

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut. “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame.

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in.

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together.

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?”

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended.

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old.

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air.

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you.

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums.

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #txt x you #tomorror x together x you #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt fanfic #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you

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eyesxxyou · 8 months

Text

Backstage Show Pt.3

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.5k

synopsis. hobie invites you to hang with him and his band for your birthday. They have the birthday present planned for you

hobie lets his band have their way with you

🍒・．❕warnings. the sexual tension is palpable, lots of group teasing, group is just different versions of Hobie's concept art, voyeurism (sex in front of hobie), clothed sex, ass eating (f receiving), fingering, praise, three on one, kinda foursome, titty play, making out with multiple people, hobie has a bit of a god/ superiority complex, y/n is a group who'd do anything for her idol, bit of a power dynamic fr

backstage show pt.1 | backstage show pt.2

Hobie had you on a leash. Metaphorically of course but you'd be more than happy to make it physical if he so desired. From that first night, you were hooked, waiting on every beck and call, obsessed was too light of a word to describe it. Fanatic maybe, in dire need of therapy is another option because you'd let him do whatever he wanted to you and he knew it.

Hobie took advantage of it in minor ways, asking you if you might send him pictures knowing that you would without so much as a second thought. He could ruin your life with pictures like that in his possession, your fingers in your wet pussy just like he instructed, so down bad that your own self preservation for any future endeavors was thrown out the window. But he had proved that he at least cared somewhat for you reputation and not getting you fired from your job by hiding your face from the tabloids when the two of you were caught fucking in an alley.

You were madly in love. Any fan would be if they were regularly fucking the person they idolized, the parasocial feelings you had suddenly becoming actualized and recognized by the one on the receiving end of it.

Never once did you try to place a label on things and Hobie appreciated it, you could tell. So often people will want to rush into trying him down to something he never really agreed to. You never tried to call yourself his girlfriend or claim him as your boyfriend because you were just happy to have him in any way he would allow. Maybe that’s why he was so comfortable letting you stick around, because you knew your place and didn’t infringe on those boundaries.

You were thinking about the long game, really. Not just the momentary gratification.

Hobie texted you after nearly a week of radio silence. For a moment, you feared he might be done with you even after the two of you stayed up texting into the early mornings about music and life, and all sorts of things. You ran through your messages time and time again trying to decipher if he had given any signs that he was upset with you. None were apparent. You told yourself that he was just busy to soothe your nerves and when you received his text, he didn’t address his absence. However, he did address something else of import.

Happy birthday, luv. You wanna come over?

Something you had offhandedly mentioned, something as important as you birthday, he took the time to remember. Even when you, who was too busy worrying about him to even remember, didn't.

It was hardly even a question you had to consider. You had tossed on a nice outfit as quickly as possible, did your hair and makeup. You grabbed your bag and left the house for the subway while asking him for the address. So quickly you had forgotten about him ignoring your text because you knew that in some way he was thinking about you and you were just lucky to even be acknowledged by him.

That’s how you got here, at this little building that was rundown but cozy, just how you liked it. The entrance was round the side and the door was left unlocked for you. You pulled open the rusting metal door gate before walking inside. You could hear the music from upstairs as well as the laughter emanating from the men and followed it up to their studio.

“There she is." Hobie's lead guitarist, Mace motioned to you as you entered the room. “Told ya she’s the punctual type.” He nudged Hobie who sat beside him with a joint. Their studio was a dim place, layered in a perpetual haze of smoke only illuminated by a red LED light in the corner. There were posters and decorations all over the wall, some spray painted art on the East wall. The boys were lounging around, listening to music while either drinking or smoking.

They were all beautiful and you’d have your pick of any of them, or rather, all of them if you could. Mace, the lead guitarist with his long locs he usually kept in a half up, half own style decorated in gold cuffs. He was cool, occasionally playful, and spent most of his time while you were around teasing. Cass, the rhythm guitar and backup singer, kept his locs in a ponytail with the font out and down his face. He was the quieter type, didn’t talk much, but he was kind when he did talk.Then there was Eli, the drummer, loud, eccentric with hair to match in streaks of white and red. He had the prettiest eyes, one blue and one brown. He was the one who brazenly flirted with you in front of Hobie.

But there was a way they all looked at you. It’s not surprising seeing as your very first interaction with them was getting fucked in front of them while they jerk off to it. Sexual tension was implied with an interaction like that.

Hobie smiled at you as you entered. “There’s ma girl. Com’ere, luv.” He motioned you to him with two fingers and you came. You slid into place beside him and he kissed you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip and his fingers tracing the curve of your delicate jaw. He kissed you like he knew you were in love with him, always kissing with just enough passion to keep you on the hook but never enough to make you believe that you’re entitled to claim him in any sort of way. "Happy birthday, baby."

“Aw, I don’ get to have a kiss, doll?” Eli came over, placing his hands on the back of the couch on their side of your head as he leaned in close to you. You hesitated, your eyes widening as you look at Hobie for what to do. He doesn’t give you any reassurance nor does he show any sign that he’s upset about the question. He just takes a drag from his joint while the other two see what you’ll do.

On the other side of the room, Cass sat strumming to the melody of the song playing over the hidden speakers on his guitar. “Don’ look so fuckin’ terrified. He’s jus’ pullin’ ya leg, dove.” He scratched behind his gauged ears, his upper lip pierced with fanged angel bites pulling into a lopsided grin. "Happy birthday by the way."

Eli sighed and fell onto the couch beside you, tossing his arm over your shoulder. You were wedged between him and Hobie, both of them with an arm around you as Hobie passed his joint to Eli. Oh the things you thought about. All the ways they could manhandle you into any position they so desired. They could pass you around like that joint they have and you’d have absolutely no qualms with it.

“Nice shirt. You make it ya’self?” Mace leaned over Hobie’s lap to get a good look at your crop top with the band’s signature and “The Mary Janes” written in bleached letters. You nodded. “Took me forever to figure out what kind of design I wanted to do but yeah.” You find that he's looking hard. Your shirt is tight, leaves nothing to the imagination though it's not like they haven't seen you in various positions. He's checking you out hard. They all are in their own way and it's nothing new but it flusters you every time.

"Stop starin' at 'er tits, pervert." Hobie jabs him in the chest with his elbow and earns himself a tug at one of his wicks in return. They squabble like siblings, bickering between themselves while Hobie moved his hand to your thigh subconsciously. You're wearing a low-waisted black maxi skirt with platform boots. A simple outfit your haphazardly tossed together in the moment to get out of the house as quickly as possible.

Eli places the joint in front of you as it sits between his long, slender fingers. "You eva smoked before, doll?" He asked in a hushed whisper beside your ear. You look up at him. “Once when I was younger. I didn’t like it all that much… but I’d be willing to try it again.” He huffs out a laugh at this and hands you the joint to take a drag of it. The smoke immediately makes you cough and your face twist up, nose scrunching in slight disdain. Cass laughs at you lightheartedly from across the room. “Maybe smokin’s jus’ not for ‘er.”

You hand it back to Eli who laughs as well, placing the joint back between his lips. “Mmh,” He hummed softly, “tha’ strawberry?” He could taste your lipgloss on the tip, savored it a little before taking a drag. “Like ma girl’s with a lil’ flavor.”

“I’m not your girl though, am I?” You say this still while leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him with the smallest hint of a smile. Sometimes you took it upon yourself to flirt with the others. It’s not like you an Hobie are an official thing, you two are free to flirt with whoever you so please (though you’re sure if he were to give the attention he gave to you to someone else, you’d lose your shit).

“Sure ‘Obes wouldn’t mind sharin’, would ya ‘obie?”

Hobie stopped his wrestling with Mace to look at his sporadic drummer then at you. “Don’ usually like sharin’ ma tings… but I also don’t believe in consistency.” He glances at you, something mischievous brimming on his lips as he leans in and kisses you, his hand comes to cradle your neck, his thumb rubbing over your throat. “She’ll always know who she belongs to at the end of the day, won’t you?” You look him in the eyes and nod.

"Das ma good girl." Hobie hummed softly and pecked you one more time. "My bes' girl. I gotta surprise fo ma favorite." Your chest swelled at his praise and the thought that he thought enough about you enough to gift you a surprise.

Hobie got up from the couch, leaving a dip in the cushion from not moving for so long. "Since it's your birthday and you must be tired just fuckin' with me all the time–" He made his way over to a recording panel, plopping himself down in a spinning chair. He was joking knowing you could never get tired of him. "So, the boys offered themselves up. Let them make you feel good, birthday girl, if you'd like. No fucking or blowjobs in return."

You never thought you'd be in a position like this, surrounded by the most beautiful men in the world and they were offering themselves up to you for your pleasure. For your birthday.

"I-I don't know…are you okay with it?" You wanted to, you wanted their hands all over you, wanted their mouths in any way you could have them but you had a creeping suspicion that this was all some elaborate test to see if you really were loyal to him. Hobie didn't like sharing his things. He already made it every clear.

"Baby, that's up to you. I only agreed as long as I was there to watch." Hobie looked at you for a moment, the way you sit squeezed between the large, warm bodies of Mace and Eli. Cass had put down his guitar and stood up. “You said ya good wit’ us sharin’ ya girl here?” He made his way slowly over to the table and around it.

"No but how could I deny my girl on her birthday?"

It was like their minds ran in parallel with each other because they all had that same look on their faces. Mace and Eli turned in to you and you felt even more trapped between the two of them and Cass standing right in front of you, looking down at you with a smirk ghosting over his lips.

It was intimidating to be trapped between three men so beautiful you felt you might pass out and they all looked about ready to devour you. What a dream it would be to be splayed open, let them pass you round, take their turns with you until you’re all dumb and fucked out. Then you want Hobie to hold you, tell you you did an amazing job while he cleans you up.

It was Mace who kissed you first. Softly at first to ease you into it. You panicked a little admittedly when he pulled back, immediately looked to Hobie for some kind of approval of the situation but he completely left it up to you to decide that for yourself. Fuck you how and who you’d like, at the end of the day the two of you had no commitment to each other. He took another drag and crossed his legs, waiting. Plus, he wanted you to accept his gift to you.

You turned back to Mace, everyone waiting to see what you might choose, all willing to back off if you gave any indication you didn’t want any of this. It takes you a second that in the moment, you have all the power and if feels fucking amazing. You kiss Mace again and that give the signal for all of them to attack.

So many hands are on you at once, tugging at your clothes, grasping at your skin, removing as much as they could to expand their access to you. It’s almost overwhelming how quickly they leave you exposed and whimpering. Cass is on his knees, his large hands grasping your thighs while Mace and Eli trade places. Eli's much rougher when he kisses, his tongue demanding absolute submission from yours, his teeth sinking into the supple flesh of your lips. Mace busied himself with those pretty breasts of yours, his long fingers playing with the pebbled peak of your nipple while his lips latch onto the nipple of your other.

"Be gentle. Don't like ma tings broken, mates." Hobie makes eye contact with you and smirks. "Go on an' slut 'er out. She's a stupid cockwhore anyway. You-" he finally speaks to you like you aren't just an accessory in the room. "don' you dare take ya eyes off me, got it?"

Your only confirmation was obedience. Your eyes remained on Hobie even as Cass's lips kissed the lips of your pussy and his tongue dipped to test the waters. Even as Mace tortured your sensitive buds with his own tongue and fingers, pinching and nipping and teasing to no end. Eli’s lips teased at your neck, feasting on the way your breathing hitched at every overstimulating touch.

Hobie was relaxed, not threatened in the least by the way you could hardly handle the sensation of all of them on you. Cass’s head was slotted between your thighs. He took his time to explore, spit on your pretty little pussy like he intended to claim it. Eli helped him out, his fingers playing in Cass’s mess, teasing at your clit while his mate's tongue went back and forth between your little cunt and the taut ring of muscle of your ass. Cass kept your legs pried open despite how your muscles fought to cover your modesty and hide from the overbearing nature of their stimulation. Together, they had your pussy trembling.

Mace fondled your breasts in his hands obsessively. You wonder how many times in all of this he's thought about tit-fucking you. Maybe from the moment Hobie first brought you around. He left red marks against the brown of your skin, all destined to blossom into roses of blue and purple.

"H-Hobie." You moaned his name like he was the one with his tongue in your cunt and his fingers playing your swollen clit like a fiddle. It seemed he was enjoying the show from where he was sitting. "What is it, ma pretty girl? You enjoyin' yaself?"

Enjoying yourself was an understatement. They were making your pussy sing, playing you like a fiddle. Mace was teasing your nipples raw and you were sure you'd simply combust at any moment. You could only whine in response, looking at Hobie as he smiled and continued to talk you through your pleasure. "They've all been wannin' to fuck you for a while now, you know tha'? All they talk 'bout afta ya leave."

You could feel Cass chuckle against your clit while his tongue swirls between Eli's soaked fingers. "Have 3 holes 'n a nice pair of tits fo a reason." He spits on your clit again, making a mess of his bandmate's fingers and your pussy before dribbling down the underside of your pretty little asshole.

"Oh the ways we've thought 'bout usin' you, lovely." Mace added on with a rumbling chuckle of his own as he kissed down your diaphragm. "How we talked 'bout takin' turns fuckin' this magical cunt Hobie was goin' crazy ova."

"I talk high praise ova ma girl." Hobie murmured from the side as he took another drag. "Bes' pussy this side of the Atlantic."

"Tas'e like heaven." Cass murmured against your saliva-coated pussy while Eli continued to pinch and flick at your clit. Your pussy is pulsating, you moans growing in volume and cadence. Mace's lips are on yours again, his tongue exploring yours and savoring your taste, his long, skilled fingers teasing their buds of your nipples.

There was a thin line that separated Heaven from Hell, blissful pleasure from soul-crushing pain and you walked that line like a tightrope, wobbling a little into each from time to time but never fully surrendering to one or the other. All those hands, all those tongues, Hobie’s piercing gaze as he watched them have their way with your body. Cass’ tongue soothed the ache of Eli’s aggressive fingers, Eli’s lips kissed the bites Mace left on your body, Mace cooed at how well you were for them all while Cass went places only Hobie has ever known.

And Hobie— he was there to watch you fall apart completely and utterly. He took a drag from this joint before leaning forward to tap off the ashes as he stood. Your eyes were trained on him, muscles quivering from the onslaught of pleasure seizing them but you’d such a good girl that you never take your gaze from his pretty, slander frame.

He stood before you, partially over Cass who ate your pussy like a starved dog, lips wet with your slick ad saliva. Mace moves his hot mouth from yours and focuses more on your abused tits, littered in hickeys and bruises, nipples erect and slightly swollen from stimulation. Eli slipped his fingers down your smutty pussy and teased at the entrance of your cunt accompanied by Cass’ tongue. He used the heel of his palm to rub your clit as he sled his two long digits into your dripping pussy causing you to gasp sharply.

Hobie reached out, taking the opportunity to slide his thumb onto the wet pad of your tongue. “Close.” And you closed your lips around his thumb, suckling softly as you moaned in pleasure. You were so close to that high you sought everytime you were with Hobie. You looked up at his with those large eyes of yours, your body spasming as your tongue rolled against his thumb.

“You gonna cum, doll?” Hobie murmured at you, taking another drag as he pussed his thumb further into your mouth and down your throat until you gagged, your throat constricting. You nodded vigorously, your hips bucking uncontrollably against Cass’ face and Eli’s hand. Your hands were in Mace’s hair as he reached down and replaced Eli’s palm with his fingers now testing your clit. Your pussy jolted, throbbed with the beginnings of a climax as you moaned against his tongue. You drooled, Cass hands push your legs apart as you attempt to close them around the many fingers and single tongue against your cunt.

“Go ahead. I know they’re dying for it. They want my pretty, birthday girl to feel her best.”

Tears pricked the ducts of your eyes as your orgasm crashed down on you. Your cries were muffled by Hobie’s thumb as he weighed the pad of it down against your tongue. Your muscles spasmed, back arching off the couch as you shook. You kept looking at Hobie under the red LEDs and through the smoke from his mouth like a good girl, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on yours.

When he pulled his thumb from your lips, a string of saliva connecting you, he ran the pad of his thumb across your southern lip and cooed at you. “My girl.” You feel back against the couch, fucked out and sleepy while they one by one retracted themselves from you, starting with Cass, then Eli, then Mace.

“You’ve ou’done yaselves, boys.” Hobie came and sat beside you, pulling you into his lap while you trembled against him. His fingers ran circles along your inner thing, growing nearer to your swollen, used heat until his fingers her dragging through the cum and saliva Cass left behind. “Ain’t this the bes’ birthday eva?” Hobie whispered into your ear and with your arms wrapped around his neck, you nod against his cheek with your lips pressed into his cheek.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #backstage show #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown my love #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader

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etoilesbienne · 4 months

Text

re: boundaries

I've made many posts previously on this subject already, so people are already aware of my stance regarding disliking the way "boundaries" as a concept are used by the mcyt fandom, however I want to have a brief meditation on why this is the case, and a look at common arguments about them.

however i do want to make clear that i don't mind boundaries as a concept, actual boundaries. as in "if you do x, i will respond with y" kinds of boundaries. I think cc are completely fair and understandable in this kind of perspective. if someone makes a kind of content they dislike, they're free to block that fan or express discomfort over it. That's normal.

my critical eye is turned toward the fandom's perception of "boundaries" as a sort of fandom ruleset, either you follow them with the in-group, or you're thrown in the out-group and labelled all sorts of insults, anywhere from a criminal offender to just having people be plain nasty toward you. this in my opinion, really feeds into the fandom habit of having "cliques" as fandoms are social networks that are voluntarily joined. i find it juvenile at best.

at worst, on the other hand, is the concept of mcyt having mixed in kpop stan culture around 2019 with smplive (great server. horrific fandom at the time it was run. all of the smplive fans still left are veterans worthy of respect for surviving that.), which caused a very explosive mixture.

kpop fandom has this outlook and parasociality toward idols because these idols are borderline unreachable. even in smaller groups, companies generally (not always.) discourage idols from talking one-on-one selectively with fans. there deserves to be a more thorough examination of kpop fandom with stan culture, that i believe i am not fully qualified for. my point is that kpop idols are a hell of a lot harder to reach for english fans, whether through language barrier or through professionality done by companies.

the explosive mixture is bringing this same mentality - the mentality that these people you look toward as the main source of the fandom as being untouchable, perfect people. it's dehumanizing in its own right, but aside from that, it creates a dangerous fandom situation. as best shown using smplive with CallMeCarson from before.

CMC is the origin point of boundaries within the MCYT fandom, having held a live in fall of 2019 talking about how a popular danganronpa themed wattpad smplive fanfiction was upsetting for him to read. CMC had an intense fanbase that could and would look up to him no matter what. of course the fanbase would go after and harass this author off of the internet and deleting their work (which remained lost media until this January of 2024. Almost half a decade.) after this situation, only months later it comes out that CMC had in fact been manipulating women aged 17 to early 20s, into sexual dms and sending him explicit photos of themselves for around a year. i am of the opinion CMC would have done this behavior regardless, however, the fact he had access to so many women who put him on a pedestal without considering he could exploit them was exacerbated by the stan culture mentality of mcyt's fandom at the time. this is not a criticism of the women, it is a criticism of the fandom culture of the time for failing to treat carson as a human being who had every capability to treat people like this.

no cc is exempt from that mentality by the fandom. carson knowingly used his position within the fandom to make the choice to do that to those girls. no cc should be exempt from the real possibility of the consideration that they can fuck up, not always in the way that they necessarily need to be cancelled or deplatformed, carson is an extreme example that is absolutely not representative of cc as a whole, but there needs to be a healthy level of doubt and separation between creators and fans.

to reiterate: cc are not your friends. cc do not need you to speak for them. you do not know these people personally. to present your defense of them and their personal opinions like you spoke to them directly and are close friends is dangerous, both for yourself, and for other fans in the community.

everything i have listed is why i always will be critical toward any fan group or clique that presents themselves as being pillars of the community, and why i am critical of any page or resource that tries to list "boundaries" as hard fast rules to be self policed by the fandom. not only is that punitive mentality, it's careless and poor understanding of how communities at large work.

i don't think a "boundaries" list is necessarily a bad idea in the long run either, if these lists were, like, compilations of streamers' twitch chat rules, that'd be cool! but generally these lists lack any nuance of why and where some boundaries may apply. like a ton of streamers hate ships being spammed in chat, but could give less of a fuck about people making ship fanart. or like wouldn't care as long as the ship art isn't put in their main tag.

as well as the general ignoring of regular boundaries, we all remember the horror show of people dono-ing to cc in 2020-22 asking for their boundaries right? like just so we're explicitly clear, walking up to someone and asking what someone's opinion of making adult content of them is very much sexual harassment. that's objectively something fans should not be asking to cc. if they want to say something, they can speak up on their own. they do not need your prompting. if you wouldn't ask it to your boss in an office, don't ask cc it. tangentially related is the ignoring of boundaries based on disliking fans harassing each other or other cc. those boundaries never get to be prioritized for a reason, as those behaviors feed into the stan culture mentality of pitting sources against each other in fan wars.

parasociality and stan culture turn mcyt fandom into a power vacuum where fans who like to self-police to a dangerous extent try to take charge. this makes the fandom worse.

#ive had this in my drafts for months might as well drop this now LOL #discourse #mcyt discourse #posts from the aether

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badaleesbish · 1 month

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I want to see something where Bada gets idol!reader pregnant and their relationship is public. I dont have a plot just want to see something cute. Maybe throw in some drama cause why not

Down bad bada is a must

What A Life. | Bada Lee x Reader

°SUMMARY:

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."

~ 𝙹𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚒𝚔𝚘 - 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 (𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎)

°CW:

𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚐!𝚙 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 (𝚛. & 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊), 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳‼️ 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂‼️

There is a lot to being an idol. From having some sort of talent, just simply being a pretty face to look at to strict diets and contracts, hectic overloaded schedules, and toxic groups and companies, but there is something that is expected of you is an idol. Can you guess what it is...

Being the only one for your fans, a parasocial relationship if you will. You are supposed to stay pure and innocent for your fans, no sex, no relationship, no children, no drinking or smoking, no potty mouth. You are supposed to keep your fans as happy as possible, whether it makes you uncomfortable or not. Just do it with a smile, they say. Well, so much for not "breaking" the "idol rules."

You may have screwed up a few months into your solo career as an idol. Your relationship with your choreographer, Bada Lee, was exposed by fucking sasaengs and then was quickly picked up by Dispatch, fucking snitch. There was some hate with comments on your social media like,

"Unnie, you are not ashamed for abandoning us like this?"

"Well... there goes her career."

"Noona, a woman, seriously?!?!? Maybe you should get a real MAN?!?!"

"Wow, so we fuck our choreographers now."

"STAY AWAY BADA, YOU DIRTY CUNT!!!"

But despite the hate, you and Bada decided to go public with your relationship, which gained quite a bit of support with comments from both your fanbases,

"Come on, guys, just admit it. They are cute as fuck."

"Love it!!!"

"Both of my worlds are colliding. What the actual fuck?!?!?."

"My parents are so cute!!!"

"Made for each other fr."

"Look at how they look at each other."

You both were happy. Your careers were skyrocketing, and you two still had somewhat of a supportive fanbase together and solo. Your company were somewhat supportive but still made you apologize to fans to regain their trust again.

"So what you are telling me is that I have to apologize for falling in love?" You scoffed as you sat across from your manager and a couple of members of your staff. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"

"Well, ma'am, you signed a contract that states everything regarding the dating ban as well as the consequences that may follow if broken." Your manager said, pushing the contract towards you as well as pen and paper to follow. "It's there in black and white, ma'am."

"So what's next? Are you gonna make me apologize for getting married and starting a family, too? You said as you began to write your heartfelt apology to your fans.

"Well, let's just hope that doesn't happen, right?" Your manager said as he leaned back in his seat with a smirk on his face. "You are our money maker, sweetheart, so we kind of need you. Tell your bitch to wrap that shit up, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever." You scoffed as you pushed the pan and paper back towards him, standing from your seat as you made your way to the door. "Also, if I were you, I'd watch what the fuck I say since ya know, I am your money maker."

"So what do we do with it?"

"Bada, you don't have to do anything. I have to handle this."

"It should be fairly easy, right?"

Bada was quite confused about the whole situation. It's like, at one moment, you were perfectly fine and then you end up sick at the simple scent or taste of a food. At first you both thought it was your menstrual cycle until you realized you were a whole two weeks late. It can't be, right? There's no way... Is there?

"Okay, I'll just read the instructions and just go for it. What's the worst that could happen?" You grabbed the bag of pregnancy test and made your way to the bathroom with Bada hot on your heels. "Baby, just let me take the test, okay? Alone, please?"

"Yeah, of course. If you need me, just call." Bada said, kissing your forehead before backing up allowing you to walk into the bathroom. "I'll be right here, okay?"

You nodded as you closed the door behind you. Nerves began to rush over your body as you pulled the test from the bag and began to read the instructions.

"Okay, step one, remove the plastic cap and use immediately. Step two, hold the absorbent tip in urine stream for five seconds. Step three, replace cap and lay test flat. Step four, wait 1 to 3 minutes for results." You read, taking deep breath after the mouth full. "Alright, seems simple."

After five tests, constant hand washing and the struggle of just trying to pee on the stick, you were finally done and now is the even more nerve-wracking part, waiting for the results. The three minutes seemed like hours, but it was time, and to be honest, you were scared shit less. If these tests come out positive, what will this mean for both of your careers?

"Bada..." You called out for your girlfriend on the other side of the door. "Come in here now."

"What does it say? Baby, why are you crying?" Bada said as she rushed into the bathroom to see you sitting on the floor with a test in your hands as tears stream down your cheeks.

Bada looked over to the other tests on the counter. Her hands flew over her mouth as she let out gasp. "Positive... it's positive."

Bada sat next to you, wrapping her arms around your body as you sob into her shirt, still gripping to test in your hand. You are pregnant, and there's no going back now. It's not that you don't want children, you do, but not this early and not like this. You wanted to getting married and be settled, no more idol life just you, Bada and your baby living somewhere discreet and outside the public eye.

"What are we gonna do, Bada? What about my career? What about your career? The fans? The company?" You began to play out everything in your head of what would happen if the public found out. All the backlash and more negative comments. "I'm scared, Bada."

"Hey, it's you and I, okay? Don't worry about all of that. If this was not meant to be, then it would have never happened." Bada lifted your head as she wiped your falling tears, gently caressing your cheeks. "It's okay to be scared, baby. This is new for both of us. We're gonna take it one step at a time. Together."

You smiled weakly as you leaned into her touch, nodding in agreeance. "I love you."

"I love you too." Bada said, pulling you into a kiss. "We got this."

"We got this."

°AN:

Ummm... I really hope you enjoy this, and I am sorry for the VERY late response. Enjoy, tho!!! 💙

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee imagine #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #street woman fighter x reader #team bebe #street woman fighter 2 #swf2

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wilwheaton · 1 year

Text

most of the time i’m me. but sometimes, i’m a thing.

I xpost asks from Tumblr to my Facebook every now and then. Today, I’m going in the opposite direction.

I posted about going to Cruel World Fest yesterday.

In the comments this came up:

Q: I’ve always wondered if you get recognized at these things. And if so do people respect your privacy and let you enjoy the show?

A: Typically, one of two things happens when someone notices me and approaches me.

The most common is that between the time they notice me and start talking to me, I've become A Thing that person is excited about. By the time we're talking, I'm kind of managing the encounter. It's work. I don't hate it, and I do my best to treat that person the way I want to be treated by someone I think is cool, but it's work. I have to put on a face, you know? I'm relieved when it's over.

The other thing is when someone sees me, recognizes me as a human in the world who made something or was part of something they care about, and they want to share that ... I don't know, community I think it maybe the best word ... with me. I feel seen when it's over.

When I'm out in the world, and I get noticed, I'm The Thing most of the time. But something changes when I'm around My People (the goths, the punks, the metal heads, the weirds, the tabletop gamers, other Outsiders) and I'm just a person with a cool job.

Yesterday, a couple people asked for pictures, and the entire time we were talking about how we couldn't believe that we were seeing these bands all in the same show. I never felt like The Thing.

Tabletop gamers, SF/F fans, Kings fans, and people who sort of parasocially know me are always really gentle and most of the time just say hello, if they say anything at all.

So it's a long way of saying that my fellow weirds tend to get it, and treat me with kindness and respect, while it's common for a normal to get a little more excited, forget I'm a person, and treat me like a Pokemon.

I don't think the normal is trying to be a jerk. I think they just tend to operate on a different frequency than I and my people do. And whenever that happens, I am SO GRATEFUL that I'm only like a teeny tiny bit situationally famous in a very narrow sense that lets me be invisible most of the time. I can't even imagine what it's like for my friends who are, like, legit famous. They can't go anywhere without security and I just don't ever want that life.

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