Happy Happy Happy - Tumblr Posts
i got new glasses and they make me look SO masc i love them 😭😭😭😭
like with makeup i’ll look amazing but no makeup and i actually pass as a guy!!!! now all i need is a binder and i’ll be able to flow with my gender fluid every day :)))))((
I get to see puppies today!!!
Rate the bag gang!!!!! Am I getting jumped or not
Rate the bag gang!!!!! Am I getting jumped or not
Idk why but seeing my fav artist post on tiktok and tumblr makes me feel so happy at some point it got me feeling like this :
Yes, this is how i will treat your art <333
well shit, i was not expecting this even though i read already i am so happy to see it posted and that my thoughts on the person who wrote this is correct. Ren, i am so ecstatic for this and so ready for the future chapters!!
REFLECTION: Chapter 1
«SERIES MASTERLIST»
“Why don’t you let go of some of that control so we can have some fun?”
Chapter 1: Overture
📜4.1K words | Approx. 17-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: The 'public' environment depicted is a hazy exclusive club where no one's sober. Heavy partying (e.g. recreational substance & alcohol use...), sex under influence, making out in public & public sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, agrexophilia, severe exhibitionism. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!
He hated it.
He hated seeing the better version of himself as if he was looking in a condescending mirror. The more loved one. The more decent one. The more ‘normal’ one. The good guy. It made him feel like he was a faulty product sold in second-hand stores.
There were many ways to cope with disappointment. Anything to drown the insufferable static in your mind. Doing the exact opposite of what you couldn’t stand was also one of them. He fixed the collar of his blazer in the mirror and walked to the bedroom door to announce his departure.
“Hyunjin, I’m off.”
He hated it, too. He hated seeing a clone of himself living and breathing while looking like that, jaws dropping everywhere he went, obviously desired by everyone ever. Hyunjin existed, didn’t he? Why was there a need for a fucking duplicate? Why didn’t the original get the same treatment? It made absolutely no sense to him.
He took a large gulp of his glass of water to refresh his throat and placed it back on his bedside table.
“Wash your hands and use protection.”
“That happened once, geez. Let it go already.”
“I don’t care,” Hyunjin slid into his bed to call it a night, “Gonorrhea scares are no joke. Are you coming back here?”
“No, grandma. I have a very important client tonight,” he turned off the lights of the bedroom and whispered, “Don’t wait up.”
While Hyunjin was covered in a blanket of darkness, he felt restless. Who knew what kind of unspeakable debauchery his twin brother was going to indulge in that night? If it was just him, that would have been somewhat fine, but he hated having to face the consequences himself every once in a while.
Lucky for Hyunjin, it never took him more than ten seconds to drift to sleep due to the constant fatigue he was suffering from, so he didn’t have to drive himself crazy with the ‘what could have been’s. He closed his eyes and off he went.
As if he was going under anesthesia.
“Hyunjae! My baby girl.”
He was more than used to this. Being a chameleon came with his job description. Whoever they wanted him to be while he was offering his services, he would embrace it and transform into it so flawlessly that you would think that was his personality all along. This particular client of his loved calling him her baby girl. He didn’t take offense at all. Come to think of it, he didn’t take offense in most things. As long as she kept those benjamins coming, who was he to judge? Apparently, her current entourage was not aware of his designated nickname considering the awkward smiles.
“You call him your baby girl?”
The amount of judgment loaded in that question was enough to last everyone during the doomsday negotiations.
“Yes. Isn’t he just so pretty?” the woman hugged by her custom-made Vera Wang evening gown clung to his arm like she was showing off her new overexpensive handbag to her friends.
“You seem familiar,” the pseudo-detective asked again with that patronizing tone, “Have we met before by any chance?”
“I doubt it. I’ve been told I’m one of a kind,” Hyunjae responded casually, “Unless your night strolls include a visit to The Strip. That’s where I work.”
“Don’t be deceived by that pretty face, though. He knows how to show a good time.”
He smiled from ear to ear upon hearing what he absolutely never got tired of hearing, and directly addressed the unamused desperate housewife judging him from head to toe.
“You know it.”
The Strip. Aptly named. Hyunjae had no idea what that boulevard looked like during the daytime. The only sky he knew was comprised of the neon lights amplifying his beauty millionfold like a fucking magnifying glass, and whenever he wanted to hide, he took shelter in the shadows of poorly lit venues under those signs. Dancing. Drinking. Fucking. Getting high.
Because being a community property came with his job description. He could give love to strangers as much as they wanted, but no one could have him.
No one.
“Shall we?” Hyunjae kissed the hand of his company for the night, and guided her into the ridiculously ostentatious venue to pretend they were civilized human beings. To feed the paparazzi some material to adorn their ad-ridden webpages with. If all those people currently fighting for the attention of cameras saw the same lenses inside Hyunjae’s club, the place where everyone was going to head to in a couple of hours, they would call the fucking police. Invasion of privacy and whatever, you know?
Hyunjae couldn’t help but snort at the irony, and downed the most expensive glass of champagne that was ever offered to him.
You walked into the club, instantly getting hearing impairment by the deafening music, and scanned the area to spot your target: three guys that went by the name 3RACHA in the eyes of the general public, but were dubbed as the headass trio or the Bermuda triangle by you depending on the mood. Also known as Chris, Changbin, and Jisung to the government. The clients you were repping for years.
You spotted them at one of the VIP tables partitioned with frosted glass, probably during their second bottle service of the night, and walked towards their direction with quick steps.
“What’s up fellas?” you gestured Chris to scoot and hit one of the white lines cut in front of him.
“Fellas?” Changbin stopped right before downing the remains of his scotch and raised a brow, “That’s extremely offensive. We’ve seen you naked.”
“Separately and together for that matter. You’re hurting our feelings, boss lady,” Jisung faked a pout.
“No, you’ve seen my high as fuck self naked. It’s not the same thing.”
“Yeah, because you would taste different when you’re sober,” Changbin attempted a comeback. You sighed and addressed him directly.
“I’m saying this with all the affection in the world but bitch how would you know? Maybe I do.” Then you turned your attention to Chris, arguably the sanest one of the three, but currently in the middle of enjoying the banter with a shit-eating grin, “Listen, I got a hold of the pretentious dude you’ve been dying to collab. He’ll be at that gallery thing in two weeks or so.”
Chris’ eyes widened like you just told him they went triple platinum, but before he could finish saying ‘Are you fucking serious?’, he got severely hypeblocked by Changbin.
“You’re going.”
“Have I ever seen one letter of my name in the credits of your albums?”
“No, but–”
“Then, FUCK no. I told you where he’ll be.”
“I’m saying this with all the affection in the world but bitch we’re paying you to rep us. What’s the point of having a publicist if we’re gonna do this socializing shit ourselves?” Changbin poured another double for himself and pointed at you, “You’re going.”
Well, you knew you were going, but it didn’t mean you weren’t gonna try to wiggle your way out of it whenever you could. Like you had been doing since forever.
What professionalism for fuck’s sake? You didn’t initially know the first thing about being a publicist. It wasn’t like you chose this life; it chose you. Literally while getting high with people you barely knew at a studio you couldn’t even remember the location of. You had just appeared there solely because one of your friends called you and asked ‘You down to party?’
You were always down to party. That was what youth and life in general was all about, wasn’t it?
You don’t live once. You die once.
So you’d much rather regret the things you hadn’t done than the ones you had.
So what if you got reproached for not owning property at your age just because you were refusing to settle the fuck down? So what if people looked at you with condemning eyes, called you names, and chastised the ‘very inappropriate language and behavior’? They weren’t going to care whether you lived or died so maybe fuck those people a little bit.
“I fucking said,” a voice roared in the studio that day, “When you say ‘I got your back’, I expect my pacific shoulders to literally be got. I expect you to fucking come through for us. The fuck you mean you lost the sound festival gig?!”
“Sound festival gig?” you licked the rolling paper in your hand, lit up the joint, and blurted out without thinking, “If that’s your manager on the phone, they should have gatecrashed Zack Linetti’s summer welcome party at The Avalon. That’s where the headliner deals happen.”
The entire population of the room turned to you following the unsolicited information, but the stare of the dude named Changbin was the most intense of them all. He hung up the phone, looked at his two partners named Chris and Jisung, and they instantly signed a silent agreement among themselves.
“What?” you shrugged while puffing out the smoke, “Everybody knows that.”
No, everybody didn’t know that. Only party animals who were also unnecessarily nosy smartasses knew that.
Like you.
The silence in the soundproof room probably lasted for about five seconds, but it felt like a solid five minutes to you.
“You,” Chris pointed at you in slow motion, “You’re hired.”
“Hired for what, brah?” you burst out laughing, “I’m getting trashed on a Tuesday. Do I look like I’m fit for a nine-to-five to you?”
“Fuck no, but you look like you have one hell of a knack for this business, boss lady.”
Boss lady. The nickname you didn’t even know was going to stick on you until further notice.
It was true, though. Rather than getting constantly fucked over, these guys needed someone to get the job done. Preferably a person who had a way with words, and without a moral compass. The talent part was easy—they had already made a name for themselves in the underground community. All you were supposed to do was hang out with people for a living, do occasional underhanded shit, and help these guys grow successful in exchange.
“I’m offering you 15k starting tomorrow,” Changbin declared in a dead serious tone. You, on the other hand, burst into another hysterical fit of laughter.
“NOICE! I can finally get myself some ice cream after taxes!” you loudly clapped your hands, “Full offense pacific dude, but my annual income would double that amount literally anywhere else.”
“This is per month, crazy woman.”
“Fucking deal!”
And just like that, you shook hands with them on a Tuesday, which was a complete trust fall for both parties. They didn’t even make you sign anything, so if shit went south you could always bail, right?
To your absolute dumb luck, you weren’t dealing with complete assholes for once. Even unbeknownst to yourself, these guys helped you discover something about yourself; something you were a total natural at. The phenomenon frequently caused Changbin and Chris to have intense drunk arguments over who found you first. Whenever that happened, you and Jisung would just watch them in silence until you got bored, and eventually take off to fuck somewhere to alleviate the headache.
When all of you had partaken in more coke-induced orgies than you cared to admit, what professionalism for fuck’s sake?
“Fine, I’ll go,” you grabbed Changbin’s glass in front of him and turned your attention to the ongoing performance.
It instantly slapped you on the face.
The performer on the stage was dancing like nobody was watching him. Or more like in full awareness that everybody in the world was watching him, and he demanded the immediate attention of every single soul who didn’t. So in his element. Violently passionate. Turns like fire to burn himself alive and stomps like water to extinguish his own blaze. Immaculate body control. Your lips inadvertently parted as you kept following his movements with your eyes, fully incredulous of what you were witnessing.
“Jesus fuck, look at him go,” you blurted without taking your eyes off him.
Jisung examined your mesmerized expression and asked the rest of the table, “Is it me, or is she actually drooling over this guy?”
“You want a lap dance, boss lady?” Chris threw his arm around you, “A little advance for your upcoming gallery gig.”
The touch on your shoulder somewhat brought you back to earth and you cleared your throat to collect yourself.
“Yeah, I don’t do the pay-per-view thing, Crispy. I like ‘em a little simpy,” you took a sip from your stolen glass and teasingly winked at him, “but you already know that.”
You felt how embarrassingly wet you were between your legs by then. You refused to watch the rest of the performance to prevent a hands-free orgasm, and tried to distract yourself by talking about potential tour venues with the guys. You might have managed to dodge the visual stimulation, but one look at that sublime creature possessing all the sex appeal in the universe, covered in a glowing sheen of sweat and literally fucking everyone with the way he moved, he managed to char his outline at the back of your mind. You excused yourself from the table and hit the restroom to sober up a little because you were on the brink of barging into the backstage area to find this man and fuck his brains out.
The ice-cold water you splashed on your face knocked some sense into you. This was fine; just the usual drug-induced excessive arousal, nothing new. You were just gonna wait it out and poof it was gonna go back to where it came from. See? Already calming down. One… Two…
CLACK!
You almost had a heart attack when a man appeared from the stalls behind you, though.
“SHIT, sorry, I thought this was the ladies’ room!”
“It is,” he responded in an aloof manner, “I just like using it because it’s cleaner.”
When you turned to your left, you noticed who you were speaking to. It was that dancing sex god who fucked you from the stage not too long ago. You couldn’t help the words that spilled out of you.
“Wow, you’re– you’re pretty.”
“Thank you,” he let out a small chuckle, “Did you enjoy the show?”
You shook your head to snap out of it and answered, “Oh, hell yeah. You definitely know what you’re doing.”
The man kept drilling a hole in the side of your face with his gaze as he dried his hands with a paper towel, “Are you here as a patron?”
“Nope. I’m here to save the day for my clients as usual.”
He laughed. That sound unclogged something and let the tension built up inside you drain out. You felt like you were able to breathe again.
“You’re interesting,” he curled the towel into a ball and discarded it, “I like you.”
“Aw, thanks, but I’m in a very committed relationship with money,” you replied playfully and walked towards the door, “and she’s one jealous bitch.”
“You’re in a damn strip club. I say no harm in cheating just once, boss lady.”
You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to face him. He found the shocked expression on your face very amusing.
“I heard what those guys were calling you.”
“HAHA, good one!” you pointed at him and walked out of the restroom, making a mental note to urge the guys to speak in humane volumes in public. The hypnotic dancer, currently downgraded to the restroom suitor, followed you to the bar and placed an order for himself.
“Whatever she’s having. Make it double.”
This man was simply fascinating. He had this intriguing charm to him, rendering you completely spellbound. He kept examining your features illuminated by the yellow candle-like lights on the bar top with a mischievous smile on his face. When the silence between you overpowered the loud music, you felt the need to say something.
“What is it?”
“Your pupils are blown wide,” his smile got bigger, “You’re high out of your ass, aren’t you?”
“You’re the one to talk,” you laughed sarcastically, “I can’t even see what color your eyes are.”
“Pupils also get dilated when you’re turned on, though.”
You were briefly lost for words at his insinuation. He was right—you were high, but not ‘out of your ass’ anymore thanks to the brief jumpscare you had experienced earlier. He took the opportunity to put you in a deeper trance by getting closer to you.
“Does it make you wet knowing I could make you do anything I want?” he talked into your ear with a sultry deep voice, “Because it should.”
You couldn’t even help the way your eyes closed when his voice brushed your face like a piece of feather. He grabbed your hand to guide it over his crotch, and you felt the texture of something firm in your palm.
“Is this evidence enough for you?”
You smiled back into his ear, “If this is your evidence, doesn’t it mean I could make you do anything I want?”
“You’re so tired of being the boss lady around, aren’t you?” he brushed your face with the back of his fingers, “Why don’t you let go of some of that control so we can have some fun?”
His eyes were locked on yours like you were having a staring contest. Whoever caved first was going to lose. It was a matter of pride now.
“Never.”
“Are you saying you’re not on the brink of jumping me right now?”
“Are you saying you’re not making up excuses to get with me right now?
He blinked. Right when you were about to pop a celebratory champagne, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dancefloor.
“Dance with me.”
If your inhibitions were even slightly higher, you would question who the hell you were to dance with him. He invented dancing. Nevertheless, in the purple cloud of the moment severely fogging your judgement, you just let yourself go in his arms, surrounded by that crowd of sweaty bodies. You let him pull you so close to him that you felt his erection press against you. It was exciting. It was enticing. It was mouthwatering to feel what you were doing to him.
The pure rapture he induced when his full lips started devouring you... You took it further than he did and guided his hand inside your pants so that he could feel it. So that he could feel that you were wetter than his mouth. Without leaving your lips unattended for one second, he slipped his middle finger inside your soaking cunt so easily and started pleasuring you among all those people way too drunk on booze, drunk on rhythm, drunk on lust.
“You know people are watching me finger you right now, right?”
If he thought he could fluster you with that, he obviously hadn’t met someone like you before.
“They’d better. I look fantastic when I cum.”
“My kinda girl,” he sank his teeth into his lips, “Where’s your table?”
“Oh, come on, you’re not gonna give me this as a freebie?”
“I am,” he kissed your lips once more, “But fingering you isn’t enough. I need to eat this pussy.”
You clenched so hard around his slender finger that he knew he poked at the right spot.
“Take me to your table, boss lady.”
You stole a glance from your table to notice the trio had already bounced. There were partitions between the VIP areas, but they still didn’t provide complete privacy. Any passerby would be able to see what was happening inside. With little to no inhibitions to actually care about it, you sucked on his finger coated with you looking right into his eyes, and dragged him to his desired location.
All hail the no-devices policy of this club and its completely wasted patrons.
He didn’t waste any time laying you down on the leather seating and hurriedly dragged your jeans down.
“Oh, there it is,” he descended between your legs with an expression of awe on his face, “Prettier than I’ve imagined.”
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you,” you held his head with both your hands, “Open wide for me.”
“I love how your cunt is dripping because of me,” he spread your pussy lips, “So fucking pretty.”
You felt electrified when he ran his tongue on your glistening folds. If it weren’t for the thumping bass causing a mild earthquake in the place, you were sure you would hear how loudly he was slurping on you because you were feeling his vibrations in the pit of your stomach. When he closed his luscious lips on your clit and started lapping at it, you unintentionally arched your back.
“FUCK, just like that,” you pulled on his hair harshly, “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop!”
And he didn’t stop until you came all over his mouth. You had some banger orgasms in your lifetime, but this easily made the top three.
“You’re good?”
“Great,” you hysterically laughed as you sat up due to the two different kinds of high you were experiencing, “but cumming in your mouth isn’t enough. I need to fuck you into oblivion.”
Just as you were about to make a move, some movement grabbed your attention in your peripheral vision. When you turned to your left, you noticed two people were fucking each other while facing your direction.
“I bet we fuck hotter,” you returned to your little bubble of lust again, “You’re carrying protection, I assume?”
“Condom first. ID second,” he flashed the gold-colored plastic wrapper between his two fingers. You took it upon yourself to rid him of his pants and put on the condom around his rock-hard cock. His girth looked so fucking delicious that you just knew that stretch was going to feel heavenly when you straddled him and let him sink into you.
“FUCK, you feel so good.”
“You feel even better inside me,” you threw your arms around his neck, “Tell me what you like.”
His mind went blank. Nobody had ever asked him what he liked, not that he ever expected it. It had always been a bunch of instructions instead. Do this, do that, sit there, take it…
“You okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m–” he shooed away the slight disorientation, “Hard. I like it hard.”
You placed his large hands on your hips and whispered into his lips so that he felt your words, “You can go as hard as you want.”
When you punctuated that with a peck, he felt the faintest wave of shock running through his body. As hard as he wanted. He sank his fingertips deep into your skin, so deep that they were for sure going to leave bruises there the next day, and started fucking into you with sharp thrusts.
All he could think about was there was no fucking way this was real. He was dreaming this. He was dreaming about this beautiful stranger haunting him, and he was going to wake up with a messy accident all over himself.
“You’re gonna cum for me?”
But you were reacting to him. You were speaking to him. You were clenching around him. You were moaning on top of him every time he disappeared into you. He was able to smell your sweet fragrance, feel you under his fingertips, hear your sexy voice. It felt way too real to be a dream. Yet there he was, in no position to talk, just taking in the inhumane amount of pleasure you were providing him.
“Are you cumming? Are you?”
“Yes. Oh, fuck, yes!”
“Yes, you are,” you cupped his face and let him ride out his orgasm inside you with more leisurely thrusts, “You are. Let go for me.”
When the waves of his high receded, he opened his eyes again, the same playful glint from some time ago returning into them at full force as if he just remembered who he actually was.
“On the house, boss lady,” he licked his lips still somewhat stained with your cum, and watched you put your jeans back on, “Come by anytime.”
It was maybe due to your own high finally fading into the darkness, but the very first question you should have asked him only occurred to you then.
“Say, what’s your name?”
He responded with a lazy fucked-out smile on his face, “You can call me Hyun.”
You flashed a fond smile and pecked his lips one last time before taking off.
“Maybe I will come by again, Hyun,” you winked at him, “Stay out of trouble.”
«TO BE CONTINUED»
AUTHOR'S NOTE
🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!
Well yeah, if you've ever come across this one back in November, it was me. Figured it was time to bring it home. You could expect regular updates for once because the entire series is actually 90% written.
If you did read through this story, I'd really appreciate it if you refrained from spoiling it. Enjoy!
If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.
-R. (CB97%)
📢Regarding tagging: Please do not ask me to tag you if you won't be meaningfully engaging with my work. Additionally, I do not tag ageless and/or blank blogs, nor can I tag you if your blog is listed as "invisible" / if you've changed your URL and didn't let me know. Thank you for your cooperation in advance!
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New rocks and shells! They aren't technically new because they belonged to my grandmother, but now they belong to me and I'll be setting them up on my altar. Side note: can anyone help me identify the big green one? It's very smooth, it almost feels wet. The ends are grey and muddy colored, though it's hard to tell.
I now have over 50 followers! I didn't notice for a few days because I'm on vacation, but I have 54 right now and I'm so happy. I never thought that I would find so many nice people here, who appreciate me. I used to have a larger tumblr with over 250 followers, but they were mostly bots or people I had never interacted with. I never got any likes or reblogs. Now I feel like the people who follow me actually care.
I love you all so much, my friends. Thank you for taking the time to follow me. I'll talk to you again soon!
IZ MY BDAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY !!!!!!!!!!!!
My birthday has finally arrived, I love you all very much and wish you the best and most wonderful things in your life💖💕❤✨
and I want to say to these sweet buns:
@oddpizza @majesticcorn2000 @woobab @panhbr @nomlioart - I want to say that your art is like a breath of fresh air for me, you are the best and beautiful, thank you for existing, I love you
ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ❤❤❤🎉✨
Eheh... guess who finally got their 3D printer working~
Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈 ✨
ASFLFHKLLGDSVKJD
*screeching noises* thank youuuu
🚂💛🧡❤🧡💛 it's a love train! send this to all the blogs you love! don’t forget to spread the love! 💛
AAAAAAAA ( 〃▽〃 ) Thank youuuu, you're so sweeett 🥺🥺💖💖
I HOPE YOU'RE DOING AWESOMEEEE💖💖💖
50 FOLLOWERS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Tysm to everyone who's following me!!!!!!
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SHUT THE FUCK UP THERE ARE SWINGS ON THE SET??????? OF SEASON 5??????? WE ARE GETTING TYE BEST THING IVE EVER DONE X LOVE CONFESSION PARALLEL I FEEL IT IN MY BONES FUCKKKK
Lando Norris on the podium after finishing third at the Australian Grand Prix
Omg it is working now I can post post, make post I’m happpppppy aaaaaaah-
YIPPEEEEE:DD
I finally got the courage to post this!
I know the drawing isn't very good, but I had a lot of support of people on Discord, so i decided to post it to see what would happen. I promise I'm doing my best<3
Nym belongs to: @artpepkin