#And its a one time license instead of monthly so this is going on my christmas/bday list | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uhdrienne · 9 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

03. broadcast?

🌼 warnings: awkward situations!

🌼 word count: 2,297 words

"So you're moving in?" Wonwoo asks as you finish up your fifth phone call of the day.

"Guess so," you shrug as you tuck your phone back into your pocket. "I got a moving company to help me with my stuff. Not everything, since I'll be going back in a few months."

He nods thoughtfully. "And you'll need a place to stay, I'm guessing."

You look at him. "I'm not staying with you. Don't try that."

"Calm down, Miss Doctor. I'm not ever offering my place up. You'll need to pay rent for that anyway. I can arrange a meeting with a landlord for you if you need it."

"How do I know I can trust you?" You narrow your eyes.

"I know everyone in this town." Wonwoo replies without missing a beat, in the tone that grates on your nerves. "What's it going to be? I'm a busy man."

Miss Kim is nice. Probably the nicest person in the town ever.

She drafts up a contract swiftly right in the local bookshop after your discussion about your housing arrangement with the help of Wonwoo, who serves as your middleman. She also starts talking about a small clinic space for you.

"So just pay the stipulated monthly rent in the duration of the last week of every month and you're good." Miss Kim summarises after you've both signed the handwritten contract.

"Alright," you say.

Miss Kim smiles. "It's been a while since we've had any newcomers in the town. You're going to have a good time."

"I doubt that," you reply quietly, but Miss Kim waves you off.

"Wonwoo," she turns to the man sitting next to you. "I'll leave the renovating to you and the boys? Not sure about the plumbing situation, but-"

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"No worries," Wonwoo reassures the middle-aged woman, a warm smile on his face. "Shua and Kwan are pretty free around this time. We'll handle it. And it's for a clinic, that's important. We'll sort that out too."

"Oh, you angel," the woman sighs happily. "Well, that's one load off. Y/N, dear, I'll see you soon when you move in. No need to worry about anything. Wonwoo, Joshua, and Seungkwan will handle it for you. Goodness, I've never seen boys who work better with wrenches than they do!"

She gets to her feet, and by default both you and Wonwoo stand up too. "I have to head off," she adds ruefully. "My- Mr Woo, I mean, needs someone to collect the trash bags again."

You bow as she leaves, and spin towards Wonwoo. "You do renovation?"

"Reno, plumbing, painting, wallpaper installation, carpenting, whatever makes up a house." He smirks. "Do you need my services, Miss Doctor?"

"I'm not trusting you with my house."

He rolls his eyes and groans. "Not this again."

"It's serious!" You retort. "I want to stay in a nice place for the 3 months I'm here-"

The flap of a booklet cuts you off.

Wonwoo has opened a whole damn book of certifications. Encased in transparent pockets, they tumble down, showcasing their sheer number in all its glory. And they reflect exactly what he says, you note as you scan down the list. He has government-issued licenses for renovation, as an estate agent, plumbing, wallpaper, carpenting, and no way... he's a licensed barista? A certified mechanic??

"Not so anxious anymore?" Wonwoo chuckles as he looks at your dumbfounded expression. "You-"

"Come on," he says, slinging his backpack across his shoulder. "You should go home, it's getting late. Come back soon so you can take a look at the house and the clinic plot."

He fishes out his phone. "What's your number?" After you give it to him reluctantly, he lifts a hand in goodbye as he strides out of the shop, leaving you.

"You're moving?!"

"Why ae you so surprised?"

"You're a city girl through and through, YN LN," your friend announces. "You whine when you have to take the stairs instead of a lift in the mall. There is no way you're upping and leaving to a place where they don't even take cards."

"I asked this guy to get them fixed," you shrug. "And it's just for three months, I'm not staying forever."

"I know you just have to do something rash when you see kids in need, YN," your friend sighs. "The time when you decided to donate half your first paycheck to feed underprivileged kids? Or the time when you organised a sale in twelve hours during college to fund medicine supply for-"

"Okay, shut up!" You turn to your friend, flustered, who's laughing unabashedly now. "The kids in that town don't have a clinic. The adults and grandparents don't either. And t's a private establishment, so I'll earn a lot of money while I'm there. There's a Louis Vuitton bag I've been eyeing."

Your friend laughs again, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Hi. I'm Joshua, everyone calls me Shua. And that's Seungkwan over there."

The two good natured men smile at you and you bow back stiffly. Beside them, Wonwoo is pacing the area that is soon to be your house, tape measure in hand.

"Hello."

"So, our newest addition!" Seungkwan smiles. "We're trying to plan your interior deco, what are you thinking of?"

"Fabric wallpaper," you reply immediately. "In taupe or grey. I'm thinking beige furniture, gives it a minimalist vibe?"

Seungkwan opens his mouth, presumably to suggest something else, but Joshua cuts in smoothly, smiling at you. "No problem. It's great that you know what you want."

At last, finally someone who gets you. "Thanks," you say stiffly, letting out a tight smile.

Wonwoo seems to be done with the measurements, as he keeps his tape measure. "Shua, Kwan, I'll take Miss Doctor to see the clinic plot. Be back soon."

"Okay!"

Wonwoo beckons to you. "Come on then."

A swift ten minutes later, you're standing in the middle of the clinic space.

"This could be the observation room," you mutter to yourself. "Or the office."

You deem the place good enough to move into. Plenty of natural light, a spacious front room, and a few more rooms at the back for observation rooms and your own office.

"Send me what you want for the wallpaper and all that," Wonwoo says, as you both leave the place and he gets ready to head back to your future house. "And it's minimum wage per hour for all three of us. We take bank transfers."

"What?"

Wonwoo smirks. "This isn't the city, but we don't work for free. I'll send you the details, you can just pay us when we're finished."

You gape at him. "I- of course I'm going to pay you! Who do you think I am, a leech?"

He shrugs. "Whatever you say. Anyway, I'll contact you when we're done, but the office might take a while more. Bye."

Dear Miss YN LN,

Thank you for your letter regarding your placement at the pediatrics unit here at Seoul University Hospital. Unfortunately, we cannot make the necessary re-arrangements as the other doctor mentioned has already started his five-year term with us. As we are in the process of preparing for the start of your contract, you were given the three months delay before you begin work.

Do advise us on what we can do to improve the situation as we hope to provide you with a positive working experience. We look forward to your reply.

Warmest Regards

Seoul University Hospital

Three Weeks Later

"Looks okay."

"Just 'okay'?" Wonwoo scoffs. "Shua spent all weekend putting up that fancy wallpaper you wanted."

"I thought you could deliver whatever your clients wanted," You hiss. Delia's eyes flick between both of you, seemingly in amusement.

"Thanks, Chief Jeon. YN's a little picky, but the place looks great!" She interrupts, and you shoot her a glare.

"No worries, Miss..?" Wonwoo smiles at her.

"Just call me Delia! YN, you stay here. I'm going to check the town out, yeah?" And before you can respond, she's out of the newly renovated house.

"She knows you," Wonwoo points out, reaching down to pick his haversack up. "You're prickly and bad-tempered, and-"

"Don't finish that."

He chuckles, fixing his belt. "Anyway, Seungkwan wanted me to pass you a message. The villagers heard we have a doctor staying here for a while, so they want to invite you to a village dinner tonight. Come if you're free, and take the chance to know them better, would you?"

"I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on! You can promote your clinic at the same time, no? Those things are usually pretty fun."

You perk up slightly and he notices. He lets out a laugh. "See you there. Bring your friend if you want to so you're not alone."

Unfortunately, Delia isn't free, what with her taking the night shift at her nursing job in a Seoul hospital. She leaves with the promise to call you when she's free to chat, and you head to the location on your own.

You bow stiffly to the three grandmas who taught you how to handle squid as they pass you, and they chuckle and pat your hand. Cringing at the feeling of old, wrinkled hands on you but saying nothing, you head towards a familiar face.

"Oh YN! Didn't think I'd see you here!" Joshua remarks cheerfully, holding tongs and standing over a portable grill sizzling with seafood. "Here, I'll grab you a plate. These prawns came in fresh, so you get first dibs off the grill!"

"YN! Over here!" Seungkwan's voice catches your attention, and you turn to see him waving you in the direction of his table. Next to him, playing with a young girl, is the chief you least want to see.

Joshua lets out a hearty laugh as he passes you a plate, laden with seafood and meat and rice. "Eat up. Stay with Seungkwan if you're a little awkward, he'll keep the conversation flowing."

You thank him a little quietly before making your way to the table. As you settle, a middle-aged man reaches to shake your hand.

"Mr Woo," He says, a little gruffly but still pleasantly. "I work in the village bank."

"Bank...?" You ask. "I didn't see one when I-" You stop yourself before the embarrassing story of you trying to retrieve your pride pours out.

"Oh! It's a small one, near the convenience store. It's quite secluded so you probably didn't catch it." Mr Woo doesn't seem fazed as he explains. Seungkwan throws his head back and laughs, "I had a hell of a time trying to find it when it was first built!"

The conversation starts and you try to listen, but it's just not the same. You're only used to chats about tough medical cases and patients, never about the day's currents, the catches from the sea, and the trash collection on Saturday mornings. You only pretend to be distracted when you see the chatterbox Miss Hwang arrive. You don't really want another debate with her.

Luckily, Delia's call when the clock approaches 9 gives you a mild reprieve. You excuse yourself and close the door to the small room at the back. It looks like the broadcast room, with a small mic there. You swipe accept on Delia's call.

"Hey, girl!" her voice rings across the line. "How's the dinner?"

"Awful," You sigh as you ean against the mic shelf. "I haven't mentioned my clinic once, and all they talk about is the day's fish!"

"Don't be such a grump," Delia teases. "That's a nice topic, you know. Life there seems so idyllic, I'd so take that over this any day."

"No you don't," You reply tiredly. "They're all so simple -- too simple it's aggravating. The chatterbox lady insisted on playing the strangest music earlier, and I wish I hadn't said I was staying here, now I have to put up and pretend I'm interested in their way of life!"

"You might like it there. The people seem pretty nice," Delia persists. Fortunately, her nagging is cut short by a call of her name, presumably from another nurse. "Shoot. I gotta go."

"Go on," you mutter. "I'll find an excuse to leave soon or something."

With a goodbye the call ends, and you mentally prep yourself to head out again.

But when you leave, you don't hear the excited hum of chatter among the villagers. Not the weird trot music Miss Hwang insisted on playing. Save for the sizzle of the grill, the whole space is silent. Every single villager's eyes follow you. Even Miss Hwang has fallen silent for once, pupils dilated in seemingly shock.

You swallow. "What?"

You turn in Seungkwan's direction. Joshua's. And Wonwoo's. The other two men aren't meeting your gaze at all, but Wonwoo is looking up and directly at you. His eyes don't have the same spark they did when you saw him earlier. They've hardened in anger and disappointment, and his jaw has tightened considerably. Joshua's deliberately looking everywhere else except for in your direction, and Mr Woo's pretending to pick at nonexistent fuzz on his clothes. Seungkwan can't even meet your eye.

You're stuck in momentary confusion until it hits you in a wave of shock and panic. The mic. The mic in the room must have been turned on the whole damn time. Your words had been broadcasted for everyone there to hear.

Your face and ears burn red, and you stride over to the table, as quickly as your shaky legs can handle, grab your bag and leave. No one follows you or tries to stop you to explain yourself.

You've stunned the whole town into silence.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼pairing: wonwoo x reader (written and smau), fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

ch.03: broadcast?

prev. masterlist. next.

🌼 taglist: @gaslysainz @lev1hei1chou

writer's note: oh noooooo

69 notes · View notes

marketingprofitmedia · 19 days ago

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nancypullen · 5 months ago

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Entering My Crone Era

I'm making decisons, y'all. Left and right, I'm making choices and changes that will hopefully serve me well. Some are bigger than others, but they all feel like progress. Here's a sampling.

Work. I left the library for a number of reasons, and I'm comfortable with that choice. My coworkers were wonderful and I feel fortunate to have retained those friendships. I mentioned that I might have a different opportunity with a local magazine. I let myself get excited about that possibility. After a breakfast meeting with the owner of the magazine and a very generous and tempting offer, I knew in my gut it wasn't right for me. The owner is a vibrant, smart woman with a vision and she is looking for an assistant editor, someone who will do everything from gathering local info (building permits, marriage licenses, etc) to creating a monthly puzzle, editing advertising and content, and so on. Younger Nancy would have jumped on that. Nancy who is turning 61 soon just wants to tap out little stories on her laptop. I have no fire in my belly, no need for a career, and definitely no desire to worry about deadlines. Maybe those are failings, but I'm honest enough to know that I'm not what she needs right now. She's way too nice for me to give less than 100%. I told her that I was flattered to have been considered and that's true. So, I remain unemployed, unmotivated, and oddly happy about that. If you need me I'll be painting, writing, making my snarky cards, and playing with clay. So that was a big decision, now here's a small one that I've made. I have an appointment tomorrow to get all of this hair cut off. It may be temporary insanity due to summer heat, but I do believe that I am finished spending too much time coaxing this mop into something resembling human hair. No matter how hard I work at it, I look like an alpaca.

I figure that if I'm getting rid of the length, I might as well get rid of the color too. Why burden myself with that never-ending upkeep? For decades I tried to keep up with my naturally brunette hair as the gray and white crept in. When the pandemic hit I let the white win. After getting feedback that white hair made me look older, and allowing myself to give a damn about that (whyyyy?), I went blonde. So for the last couple of years I've been regularly bathing my head in chemicals so society might think I'm 55 instead of 60. How stupid is that? Anywayyyyy....this is the photo I sent to my hair magician.

I have taken into account that I am not beautiful like Helen Mirren, that I have twice as much hair as Helen Mirren, and that I do not own that spectacular sequined gown and cardigan combo that is an absolute dream come true. I am 100% certain that I will look less like Helen Mirren and more like Mrs. Claus, but I'm sticking with my decision.

I've had this tumble of waves (coaxed into being with a big, round brush and a flat iron) for so very long. It's run its course. Not going to lie, I get plenty of compliments on my hair, but those people don't know the battle. The drying time alone is a grind. I want minimal upkeep, and if that makes me ugly I'm willing to take the hit. Let the youngsters worry about that sort of stuff. In pagan religions there are three phases of a woman's life - maiden, mother, and crone. Those are also known as youth, warrior, and sage. The maiden stage signifies youth and growth, think springtime. You're a rosebud! The mother stage puts us firmly in our nurturing years - wiccans celebrate this chapter of fertility, power, and responsibility. They associate it with the full moon. Lastly, we become a crone. Our work is mostly done and we have gained insight. We know ourselves better, we understand more about life and people, we're emotionally and mentally stronger, and hopefully all of this has given us wisdom. It's a shame that the word crone has become associated with physical appearance, a synonym of hag. Once upon a time it only meant an older woman who was intuitive and wise. I'm not as wise as I hope to be, but I'm much wiser than I used to be. I am firmly, happily, and gratefully in my crone years. I mean, to be truly happy I'd have to live in an enchanted cottage in the woods and have the power to communicate with animals - but there's still time. I'm an entry level crone, plenty of years ahead of me. That, my friends, is the nonsense that I needed to shake out of my head and onto this keyboard today. The Edgewaters left on Saturday afternoon, Mickey and Matt jetted out of Baltimore early this morning and the house is quiet. The cats are napping in sunbeams and I'm going to sit down at my desk and make something with my hands. I haven't had a chance to do that in ages and my soul needs it. I hope you're feeding your soul something healthy as well - kind words, acceptance, forgiveness. Get rid of junk food like the opinions of others or ridiculous expectations of perfection. Take it from a wise, old crone, your soul will flourish if you feed it right. I'll be back tomorrow with photos of the impending hair disaster. Until then, stay safe, stay well, and be kind to yourself. XOXO, Nancy

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mint-moon25 · 1 year ago

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AUGUST - 2023 - RECALLING PH

PHILIPPINES - BENIGNO AQUINO

JR - COLOR - WE - ASSIGNED YES

NAVY - ABOVE - DENIM - BLUE

QUITE - PRETTY - COLD - 24 HR

HOT - 12 HRS - NO - SWEAT AND

NON-LEAK - SILICONE - GRIP - 2

HUB - LOCKER - CHEAPEST AND

WITH - STRAW - 4 - MY - WHEY

PROTEIN - POWDER - VANILLA

BLK - COCOA - POWDER - AND

1 TBS NUTELLA - ADD WATER

OR - CASHEW - MILK - PLANT

BASED - ICE - CUBES - B 4 US

WORKOUT - ADD - BANANA 2

PORTABLE - BLENDER - THEN

PUT - HERE - DRINK - HERE - &

MAKE - ANOTHER - 4 - AFTER

IMPORTANT - B 4 - EXERCISE

AFTER - SO - MUSCLE - CAN

RECUPERATE - FASTER - TOO

I - CAN - FINALLY - RUN - I DID

TRY - CAN'T - HARD 2 BREATH

GOING - UP - BRIDGE IS HARD

WALKING - WHEY - PROTEIN 2

GIVE - STRENGTH - 2 - RUN XO

NOW - CAN - FINALLY - GOAL

30 MIN - BACK - & - FORTH

6 DAYS - SUNDAY - IS REST

NIGHTS - JUST - 15 MIN - 4

I - LOVE - BRIDGE - VIEW 2

I - WANT - 2 - UNWIND - ITS

A - NICE - VIEW - THAT - ME

DON'T - WANT - 2 - LET - GO

FRANCE - LICENSED - BY YES

TUTORSHIP - ARCHITECT MY

FUTURE - CREATING - BLDGS

ALSO - INTERIOR - DESIGN - 2

STAGE - MY - BUILDING - THAT

I - CREATE - HOUSES - APTS - 2

RUNNING - BRIDGE - 5:15A - EA

DAY - 30 MIN - MY GOAL - THEN

9:15P - RUNNING - BRIDGE - FOR

15 MIN - THEN - BATH - AFTER 2

LOVELY - VIEW - AT NIGHT - SO

I - CAN - SLEEP - BETTER - THIS

MY - RUNNING - SCHEDULE

6 DAYS - TOTAL - 45 MIN OF

RUNNING - EACH - DAY - SO

FINALLY - 90 LBS - AGAIN AS

MARILYN MONROE - 5'5 FT

WAS - 90 LBS - AT - 5'7 1/2 FT

BONIVA - BONE DETERIORATION

15 YRS - EVERY - 15TH - JUST YES

LOST - 2 1/2 INCHES - ONLY

THUS - WHEY PROTEIN POWDER

WILL - HELP - ME - LIKE - OREA 2

BLACK - COCOA POWDER

1 TABLESPOON - NUTELLA

BANANA - CUBES

CASHEW MILK - PLANT BASED

ICE CUBES - THIS - B 4 - AFTER

WORKOUT - THEN - FINALLY - I

CAN - RUN - I - FEEL - THIS - IS

MY - YEAR - 2023 - AS - 90 LBS

AGAIN - AS - I - SEW - MY - YES

STRETCHABLES - PANTIES

SHORTS - SLEEVELESS AS

WITH - CONFIDENCE - WILL

DO - AFTER - SHIRTS - LONG

SLEEVES - STRETCHABLES

THEN - SWEATERS - LITTLE

BY - LITTLE - DENIM - SHORTS

WITH - DISTRESS - OPENNED 2

LOVE - THOSE - DESIGNS - YES

2023 - FINALLY - NO - LONGER

POOR - BUT - SHOPIFY ONLINE

TELLING - ME - 2 WEEKS 2 GET

MY - REFUND - THEN - SELLER

SELLING - BOGUS - SOLAR YES

PANEL - SAID - WITHIN - 30 DYS

REFUND - WELL - WE - ATTACK

SHOPIFY - ONLINE - STORE

FREE - APPS

INSTANT - REFUNDS

CUSTOMERS - GET - REFUND

IN - SECONDS - UNTIL - U ARE

SATISFIED - WITH - RETURNS

THEN - PAY - THEM - ONCE - I

GET - REFUNDED - THEN WITH

5% - FEE - NO - MONTHLY TOO

ITEM - $25

FEE - $1.25

AMAZON - DROPSHIPPING

AMAZON - IMPORTER - SPREADR

APP - PRO - $10 - UNLIMITED YES

ITEMS - AUTO - SYNC - PRICES - 2

CHROME - EXTENSION - THEN ME

WILL - ADVERTISE - EVERY - PAGE

REFUND - IN - SECONDS

FREE - SHIPPING

MY - BLOG

MIAMI - BLUES

SHARE - MAIN - LIBRARY

SHARE - BRICKELL - CITY

CENTRE - TIME - 2 - INDULGE

IN - ONLINE - SHOPPING - NO

MORE - SHOPPING - MALLS 4

MOST - EXPENSIVE - ANYWAY

GO - OUTLETS

CHEAPER - LOCATIONS - BUT

GREAT - AREA - ALWAYS SAFE

BLOG - MIAMI - BLUES

WILL - SHARE - HOW - 2 - MAKE

MONEY - WILL - SHARE - ALL XO

ALL - THE - APPS - I - USE

MAY - TABOOLA - ADS - BE OUR

RESCUE - NO - ONE - KNOWS US

NO - ONE - BUYS - BUT AMAZON

NOT - GREATLY - ADVERTISED

MANY - SELLERS - SELLING US

DAMAGED - ONLY - WHOLE FOOD

MARKETS - GOT - MY - REFUND IN

30 MIN - TWICE - BUT - OTHERS

ELECT- NASTY - UPS - STORE - 2

REFUND - TIME - GETTING - BAD

OUR - CUE - PEOPLE

SHOPIFY - ONLINE - STORE

REFUND - IN - SECONDS

FREE - SHIPPING

WHEN - I - MAKE - MONEY

DISCOUNTED - PRICES

AMAZON - PRIME BUSINESS

ANNUAL - FEE - $69

INC FILE.com - GOLD - PLAN

BANK - OF - AMERICA

THEIR - CHOICE

UNLIMITED - SPENDING

OVER - $5 MILLION DAILY

SPEND - $250 - MONTHLY

FREE - CHECKING - THEN

INSTEAD - OF - $!6.95 - US

THE BEST - BUSINESS BANK

JOINING - CITI BANK - NEAR

BAYFRONT PARK - AT - TRUE

BISCAYNE BLVD - US 1

24/7 - CVS - PHARMACY

THEIR - BANK - BEST XO

CRISPIEST - $20 - $10 - MOST

BEAUTIFUL - CASH - ITS ONLY

CITI BANK - ATM - TELLERS - 2

WHO - ISSUES - CRISPIEST YES

MOST - BEAUTIFUL - CASH HAI

AMAZON - IMPORTER SPREADR

AUTO - PRICE - MARK UP

ADDING - 10% - ONLY YES

COINS - $0.95 - SO - 2 COMPETE

EVERY - PAGE - SAYS

FREE - SHIPPING

REFUND - IN - SECONDS

ZOHO - BUSINESS - EMAIL

ALL - I'M - SHOWING - YES

MIAMI - BLUES

DETAILS - CHOOSE

WHOLE - FOOD - MARKET

AMAZON RETURNS KIOSK

NO - LABEL - NO - BOX

FREE - RETURNS

PUT - IN - PLASTIC - AND

STICK - SOMETHING - ON

I - GET - REFUNDED - 30 MIN

OR - EMAIL - THEN - THE YES

SHIPPING - LABEL

WHEN - I - GET - MY REFUND

THEN - I - PAY - THE - APP - 2

TOTAL - AND - 5% - ALSO

INSTANT - REFUNDS

ONLY - APP - IN - SHOPIFY

THAT - WILL - HELP US AS

DROPSHIPPERS - DO - MY

START - IS - SO - EXCITING

AGAIN - WILL - SHARE ALL

MY - SECRETS - APPS WILL

SHARE - EVERYTHING - SO WE

CAN - ALL - LEAVE - OUR JOBS

LEAVE - EVERYONE - FINALLY 2

WILL - SHOWCASE - MY - TRUE

ASHEVILLE - NC

NORTH - CAROLINA

ESTATE - AND - STABLES

BLUE RIDGE - MOUNTAINS

PHOTOS - OF - MY - HORSE

THOROUGHBED - BUYING 2

BEIJING - CHINA

ACUPUNCTURE

1 1/2 - HRS PAID - $2.50 USD

WILL - SHARE - MY - NEW YES

FACE - AND - BODY - LOOKING

AGE 16 - HEIGHT - BECOMES

5'9FT - BACK - 2 - RUNWAY FR

MODELING - IN - PARIS - TRUE

CHATEAU - IN - BRITTANY

$25 MILLION

MY TOKYO - MALE SCIENTISTS

GETTING - MY - MAKATI BANKS

MONEY - OVER - $125 BILLION 2

AUTO - TAX - PAID - SO - I'M YES

INTERESTED - IN - CENTRAL

PARK - TOWER - TALLEST BLDG

NOW - IN - THE - WORLD - THEIR

PENTHOUSE - $250 MILLION YES

I'M - INTERESTED - TOTALLY TOO

BECOMING PHOTOGRAPHER - 2

WILL - SHARE - THESE - PLACES

SO - PRAY - PRAY - WILL - START

WITH - RUNNING - THE - BIBLE

APOSTLE - PAUL - GOD - SENT

LIFE - IS - LIKE - A - RACE - AND

WE - LIVE - THIS - LIFE - LIKE

RUNNING - THE - RACE - SET

B 4 - US - ITS - GOOD - 2 RUN

LITERALLY - 2 - FEEL - WHAT

HE - WANTS - US - 2 - KNOW

2 - RUN - THIS - LIFE - LIKE U

RUN - A - RACE - DOING THE

REQUIREMENTS - OBEY THE

GODLY LAWS - OF THE LAND

WHY DO - LIBRARIES - VIOLATE

AMENDMENT 1 - 'SUPRESS OUR

SPEECH' - LIBRARY - FRM - OUR

TAXES - ENDS - THE - RIGHT - OF

PEOPLE - 2 - PEACEABLY - TRUE

ASSEMBLE - THE - 1ST - ONE - IN

18TH - CENTURY - AS - WE - YES

DISAPPEAR - THIS - LIBRARY - &

MUSEUM - LESS - THAN - 1 MIN 2

FIRE - OPEN - CARRY - HAITI BLK

MEN - OUTSIDE - ILLEGAL - OPEN

CARRY - IT's - 6P - EVERYONE - UR

NOW - TRESPASSING - THAT's HIS

JOB - AS - THEY - GET - THEIR

LAST - PAYCHECKS - WITH - A

500 YRS - RESTRAINING ORDER

DENIED - WORK - PAYCHECKS &

INHERITANCE - NEW - PHOTO ID

HAS - EXPIRATION - BEGGAR's

LICENSE - COLOR - PHOTO PLUS

500 YRS - NO - INVENTIONS YES

WATCHES - CALENDAR - ALSO

MICROWAVES - FANS - AND THE

RESTRAINING - ORDER - 2 - ALL

FOREIGNERS - AND - FOREIGN

GOODS - CHINESE - FOOD AND

PIZZA - SQUARE - BURGERS - 2

HAMBURG - GERMANY - MADE

THEM - BOUNTY - HOUNTERS 2

CONCEALED CARRY - WILL YES

WITH - OUR - TOOLS - WILL HAI

MAKE - CERTAIN - THEY - OBEY

THEIR - FAMILIES - GETTING

SAME - RELATIVES - ALL YES

GETTING - BOTH - ABOVE

FIRED - NO - WORK - AND

NO INVENTIONS - NO FOREIGN

GOODS - CAN - NEVER - COME

NEAR - US - EVER - AGAIN - YES

HAD ENOUGH - OF - HISPANICS

AND - BLACKS - DANGEROUS &

VIOLENT - HUMANS - ALWAYS

FIGHTING - OUTLOUD ALL THE

TIME - TRAGIC - PEOPLE ALSO

JESUS - IS - LORD - HEAT WAVE

OUTSIDE - SEPT - I - GET - NEW

ASUS - TOUCHSCREEN - TRUE

LAPTOP - FOUND - BETTER - 2

SOLAR - PORTABLES - HIGHER

OHM - BUT - NOT - SO - HIGH IT

IS - BANNED - AT - AIRPORTS

SHARING - THAT - BUT - WILL

LEAVE - EARLIER - TODAY FOR

I'M - HUNGRY - ALSO - HAVE

$3 - AT - FOOD - STAMPS - 2

JESUS - IS - LORD

INTERMITTENT - FASTING 2

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here2bbtstrash · 3 years ago

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park and ride (explicit)

genre: smut

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: your fuckbuddy asks if the two of you can drive around a bit first, but he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself

word count: 4.8k

contains: explicit sexual content bb! idol verse, fuckbuddies, teasing while driving, semi-public sex (aka fuckin in a car), fingering, squirting, a smidge of size kink, also joon really likes your skirt

A/N: inspired by that ~mysterious extra day~ in america and joon posting Fast Car by Syd on his story (which, btw, TASTE) - this is also on AO3 if you'd rather read it over there!

For your own sanity, you try to stay busy. You go for a long run every morning to clear your mind. You delete Twitter from your phone and get two weeks ahead on your grad school assignments. You go out for drinks with friends and pepper them with questions about their own personal dramas.

But all the while that glimmer of hope in your chest remains, impossible to extinguish entirely. You know by now to keep your expectations low, very low. Just because he’s on this side of the world doesn’t mean he’ll have time to see you, and most of the time, he doesn’t. You figure there’s no point in obsessing over something that’s out of your control.

But this time is one of those rare occasions where the stars align and the universe decides to throw you a good turn, and you can’t help the smile that breaks across your face when he calls.

“I got an extra day. Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Hmm… yeah, I should be able to pencil you in,” you joke.

The celebrity part of it is still pretty bizarre, but you’ve done this enough now that it’s become its own weird little routine. Pulling up to a hotel where the nightly rate costs more than your monthly share of rent. Handing the valet the keys to your shitty Honda Civic. Checking in at the front desk and giving the alias the group is booked under, which changes every trip. Showing your ID so they can confirm you’re on the approved list of visitors. Having a special room key made that allows you access to their restricted hotel floor. Just all part of the process.

And that’s not even mentioning the one time you were personally escorted by a bodyguard to his room; you wondered on the elevator ride up how much time their security staff spends ushering fuckbuddies in and out. You’ve decided that maybe you don’t want to know the answer to that one.

So it’s a surprise when he asks on the phone, “Can you pick me up instead this time? We don’t have to go anywhere special, maybe just drive around a bit? I’m so sick of hotel rooms.”

“Is this all a ploy to stop me from raiding your minibar?”

He laughs softly. “Oh don’t get me wrong. I definitely still plan on taking you back to my room and…” He trails off, well aware that he doesn’t need to explicitly finish the sentence. “Well, you know. Just need some fresh air first, I think.”

You decide you’ve given him enough sass for one phone call and bite back the urge to argue that he’s not actually taking you anywhere, as you’re the only one with a license in this situationship.

“Yeah, sure. I can do that.”

~*~

Never in a million years would you have ever thought you’d have Kim Namjoon riding shotgun in your car, the seat pushed back as far as it can go to accommodate his long legs.

He’d slipped out of the front door of the hotel looking as nondescript as possible in a black hoodie and shorts, face hidden almost entirely by a black facemask and a bucket hat pulled down low over his eyes. You pause, hands still on the wheel, wondering if you should expect some kind of greeting. This is so far outside the realm of your normal interactions that you have no established protocol to follow.

“It’s good to see you, let’s get out of here.” He says softly, and you take that as your cue to shift gears and follow the road out of the hotel entrance.

Namjoon seems tense, you think as you pass through an intersection. He keeps switching between checking his phone, looking out the passenger-side window, then turning over his shoulder to look at the traffic behind you.

“Sorry,” he explains, “Not trying to be rude. Just being careful.” That’s when it finally registers in your mind that he’s making sure you’re not being followed, and the thought sends a shiver of fear up your spine. The fact that this is a regular part of life for him is so strange.

The city is fairly deserted tonight, and when you stop at the next red light you can see him visibly relax a little, unlooping his mask from around his ears and tucking it into his pocket along with his phone. He slips his hat off as well and tosses it in the backseat, pulling down the visor to make sure his hair looks good in the tiny mirror. You try to suppress a laugh; surely this man knows that he already rolls out of bed looking fine as hell, no adjustments necessary.

He flips the visor closed and catches you staring at him, and a thrum of desire runs through you. Has he managed to get hotter since the last time you saw him? You didn’t think that was possible.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leaning over to cup your jaw with one hand and bring you in for a kiss.

This is your favorite part of these reunions—remembering all the little things you’d forgotten since the last time. Like how big and warm his hands are, how hungrily he kisses you. It isn’t until an impatient horn blaring snaps you back to reality that you remember you were stopped at a red light, which is now very much green. Judging by the way the driver behind you is laying on the horn, it’s been green for a while.

“Fuck, oops.” You move to pull away but he keeps his hand on your jaw, holding you in place, your lips inches apart. His eyes are dark with pure want as he stares at your mouth.

“One more.” His lips are so soft; this kiss is sweeter than the first, less urgent. You barely notice as the driver behind you swerves into the other lane to pass your stopped car and speeds off through the intersection.

Namjoon brushes his thumb against your cheek and then removes his hand somewhat reluctantly. You can’t hold back your smile as you ease your foot off the brake, trying to focus on the road. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but when you see a green light while driving, it means you’re supposed to go.”

He leans back in the passenger seat, his hands clasped behind his head, dimples fully on display as he laughs. “There it is. I knew you’d get in a license joke eventually.”

“I held it in for as long as I could.”

“I bet you did.”

You realize he didn’t give you any directions on where to go, so you drive aimlessly through the city that you know so well. The lights at night are beautiful, even you can admit that, and though you typically hate the many intersections, it’s not so bad when you have someone to kiss you breathless each time you hit a red light.

During a particularly long stretch of greens, he taps his knuckles on the center console. You glance over to see his eyes roaming across the inside of your car, like he’s just realized where he is. “So this is your whip, huh?”

The fact that this dork is a professional rapper amazes you sometimes. “Top of the line 2008 Honda Civic.”

He touches a finger to a mystery stain on the vinyl of your dashboard that’s been there for at least a decade. “I could get you a better car than this.” He doesn’t say it in a bragging way, though he certainly could. Instead he just sounds sweet, and sincere. Like he wants you to have nice things.

You roll your eyes. “Save your money. There’s nothing wrong with this car.”

With a thoughtful hum, Namjoon rests his left hand just above your knee, and you reflexively spread your legs a little wider, keeping your eyes firmly on the road despite your quickening pulse. His thumb draws lazy circles on the outside of your thigh. “Well, now we know you’re not fucking me for my money.”

The truth escapes with a laugh before you can stop it. “No, I’m fucking you for your big dick.”

“Oh?” His hand climbs a little higher and arousal pools in your belly. You can already feel yourself getting wet. “Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Eyes on the road, you tell yourself. His hand is rubbing your thigh gently now. It takes all of your willpower not to look over at him.

“I like this skirt,” He says softly, and a blush creeps up your neck. You’ve always had a complex about being fashion-challenged, and having a fuckbuddy with personal stylists and access to the nicest clothes money can buy doesn’t help. You changed outfits about twenty times before you finally settled on this one, a black long-sleeve and a yellow plaid miniskirt.

You lose your train of thought entirely when he nudges his hand a little higher, slipping it under the fabric, and hooks his pinky finger around the lace edge of your panties. Your cunt clenches at the thought of his long fingers in you.

“Are you trying to make me crash this car?” You do your best to keep your voice even, though you’re certain he can tell your thighs are quivering.

His fingers trace along the line of your panties where your hip and thigh meet, lighting every last one of your nerve endings on fire. “No, but maybe we should… park somewhere.” The suggestion surprises you, but you’re not opposed. In fact, you’re hard pressed to think of a place where you wouldn’t be willing to fuck Kim Namjoon.

“Are you sure?” “If you want to.” He responds nonchalantly. His hand slides out from under your skirt, moving a few inches back down your thigh. “I’ll behave now. How’s school?”

You laugh incredulously—your panties are soaked and this tease wants to talk about grad school? “Oh no, you started this. Don’t you change the subject.”

You don’t even have to look over to know he’s smiling at your frustration, and you turn right at the next intersection and then immediately left into the parking lot of a shopping center. It’s several hours after closing, so the place is empty, but you still drive around the building to the large commuter lot behind it to ensure you’re properly hidden.

You pull into a space directly in front of the “Park and Ride” sign, and you smirk as you pull up the parking brake. The irony is not lost on you.

The moment where you each have to fumble to unbuckle your seatbelt is just awkward enough that you’re laughing when he pulls you back in for another kiss across the center console. Euphoric is the only way to describe the feeling of having him here. It’s proof that he’s not some dream you made up but somehow, impossibly real.

He leans the passenger seat as far back as it will go, shifting his body to one side as best as he can to offer you the seat. “Will you please come over here?”

It’s certainly not graceful as the two of you fumble to get comfortable in the cramped space of your front seat, but when is it ever with him? You’ve seen him shatter wine glasses, knock over bedside lamps and alarm clocks, and you still haven’t let him live down the time he once fully broke the wooden frame of a hotel bed. You like that he’s multifaceted; he can make you laugh and fuck you senseless.

You take his place lying back in the passenger seat and he crawls over you, kneeling on the edge of the seat and resuming the urgent kisses, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You only break apart to shed clothing, first your shirt, then his, and then your bra. (He looks extra smug for being able to undo it one-handed on the first try.)

He tosses it into the backseat with the rest of your clothes then pauses to take you in, eyes roaming over your body. He licks his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

Your nipples stiffen at his words and the cool night air; being half-exposed like this makes the reality of the situation set in. You’re technically fucking in public, and it’s turning you on a lot more than you anticipated.

You run your hands over his shoulders and across his chest and groan as he moves his lips down the slope of your neck. He’s just so big, especially in your small car—broad shoulders, long legs, and flexing muscles that make your core throb in anticipation. You’re dying for him to touch you, to fuck you, but he’s taking his sweet time.

As if sensing your impatience, he grabs both of your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of you while he kisses, bites, and licks along your neck and collarbones. You can’t contain the little noises he pulls out of you when he finds a particularly sensitive spot.

You try straining against his grip just to see what happens, but he’s so much stronger than you that he doesn’t budge. When you whine a little, you feel him smile against your skin.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” He lets one of your hands free and brings his own to cup your left breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your nipple in just the right way that makes you arch up into his touch. Fuck, he’s good at that.

“You have me.” Namjoon says, like it’s obvious. “Be more specific.” He dips his head down to tease a circle around your nipple with his tongue, then just barely grazes the sensitive tip with his teeth and you moan.

Your head is spinning, and you can’t keep your voice from shaking as he gives the same attention to your right breast, his thumb continuing to work the left one.

“I need to f-feel you inside me,” you groan. “Please.” Your pussy aches from lack of attention.

“Whatever you like, baby.” He replies, shifting his position slightly to get a better angle. Your head falls back against the seat as his hand makes contact with your thigh, rubbing it just like he did when he was teasing you while you drove. Your breath catches when he slides both of his hands under your skirt, thumbs hooking your panties, and pulls them down in one swift motion. “Skirt stays on.” He says with a flash of his dimpled smile. “I like it.”

You maneuver to get your underwear all the way off in the limited amount of space and nearly knee him in the groin. The look of concern on his face at the close call makes you laugh out loud, which quickly turns into a moan when he presses two fingers into your dripping cunt. You’re breathless and still smiling, completely dazed from it all, as he pumps them in and out of you at a torturously slow pace.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His thumb slides between your folds, collecting the wetness there. He gently circles over your clit and you gasp. You’re not gonna make it, you think. You’ll die right here in the passenger seat if he keeps touching you like this.

Instinctively you move to cover your flushed face with your forearm, embarrassed by how overwhelmed with pleasure you are, but he catches your wrist and pins it down again with his left hand, the other still working your pussy.

“Don’t hide,” he murmurs. “I want to watch you fall apart.” And then he picks up the pace.

You’re helpless to his touch, moaning and panting for air as you feel your orgasm already fast approaching and a warmth building in your core. He curls his fingers inside you, pressing hard against your front wall while his thumb rubs your clit in perfect time. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s doing with you, exactly how to work out the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had, and you know you’re headed for one now when your cunt starts to flutter around his hand.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice drips like honey. “Come for me.”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, your back arching up off the seat. The pressure building in your core reaches its peak and you feel it burst as a wave of arousal rushes out of your cunt and splashes against his hand and your spread thighs. He groans at the sight. His fingers ride you through the aftershocks until you squirm from oversensitivity and he finally relents, releasing his grip on your wrist at the same time.

“Holy shit,” is all you can manage once you’ve come down from your climax, staring dumbly at the ceiling of your car in disbelief, trying to remember how to breathe. Your heart is racing. “That was… oh my god.”

“Still got it.” He says, clearly self-satisfied, and you laugh as he presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone. Namjoon always gets so proud of himself when he makes you squirt. “I think that might be a new record.”

You roll your eyes but you’re still grinning, enjoying the waves of your post-orgasm high. It’s been a long time since you came that hard. “Yeah, yeah, you’re very talented. Shut up and switch with me.”

Shifting positions is made harder by the fact that your legs threaten to give out when you put weight on them, but his hands slide up to your waist to steady you so you don’t fall over. Eventually he resumes his place in the passenger seat, and you kneel down in the small space in front of him, his legs on either side of you.

He lifts his hips up so you can tug his shorts down, and you’re torn between teasing him back as revenge and the overwhelming desire to take him in your mouth immediately. You can already feel your core starting to throb. There’s just something about Namjoon that makes you insatiable. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.

You trail kisses up the inside of his thigh, biting every so often at the sensitive skin there, delighting in the way his breath hitches each time. Two can play at this game, you think as you press a hand to his stomach, just barely teasing a finger under the band of his boxer-briefs to scratch your nail lightly across his skin. His hips jerk in response and you smile.

You move your hand lower to palm him over his underwear, gripping firmly but keeping your pace slow to torment him. You weren’t just flattering him earlier—his dick is life-ruiningly big, the perfect combination of long and thick, and he’s fully erect under your touch. You want it so bad, your naked cunt is getting slick all over again at the thought.

But first, some retribution.

You still the movement of your hand and place a gentle kiss to the head of his dick through the fabric of his underwear, then gaze up at him innocently. His lips are parted slightly and he’s breathing hard, watching your every move. The way he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe makes your stomach flip.

It feels good to be in control. Keeping eye contact, you lick a slow stripe up the fabric of his boxers and feel the strong muscles in his thighs flex under your hand as he groans a little.

You drop your gaze to take the head of his still-clothed dick in your mouth, resuming the slow pump of one hand over his shaft.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon hisses.

You tug his boxers down his legs, too desperate to see him. His cock looks so good you can feel yourself salivating. The tip of it is already shiny, slick with a mixture of pre-cum and moisture from your teasing. You trace up the large vein on his shaft with the pad of your thumb. When you pause to rub small circles at the extra-sensitive spot right under his head, he lets out a strangled whine.

Encouraged by the sound, you wrap your hand firmly around him and he gasps. You can feel his cock pulse in your hand. You pump him ever-so slowly, working a new bead of precum out of the tip, then lightly run your tongue over him to lick it up.

His hips jerk again and he grunts your name, his voice hoarse.

You lean back on your heels, your hand still wrapped around him, and feign surprise. “Hmm? I’m sorry, did you say something?”

He’s clearly trying to keep the smirk of disbelief off his face, but a telltale dimple gives it away. “Oh my god, you’re so evil.”

You smile at the compliment and finally take him into your mouth; his moan of relief makes your pussy throb. You swallow down as much of his dick as you can and wrap your hand around the rest, bobbing and pumping in a steady motion. His hips start rutting against your mouth in time with your movements.

The way Namjoon is groaning unabashedly now makes your face hot. God, you need to fuck him. You look up and take him as far down your throat as you can, gagging slightly, and he must be able to read the desire in your eyes. He runs a hand through your hair, just barely tugging, and you relent, his dick sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Get up here,” he growls. You climb into his lap and straddle him, and he kisses you so fervently that your head spins.

His hands slide under your skirt to grab your ass and he pulls you closer. As he does, you realize how soaked you really are, your slit slipping easily along his length. You can barely keep from whimpering at how good it feels, and he’s not even inside you yet. His cock twitches and you shudder, unable to stop yourself from rolling your hips and grinding against him. You’re so turned on, you could come from this alone.

“Keep doing that, baby,” he encourages, and your eyes flutter open as he shifts slightly. He reaches for his discarded shorts, his other hand caressing your thigh as if to apologize for the interruption. After a bit of fumbling he produces a condom, reaching both arms around you to rip it open with shaking hands.

Leaning back, you brace yourself on his legs and lift your hips up so he can slide the latex down his length. Your thighs are trembling hard as his hands move back to your ass and help guide you into place.

It’s been so long, and you want this so badly. You’ve spent more than a few nights in bed with your hand between your legs, playing back the memory of how good he feels, how thoroughly he’s fucked you before. Even after all the anticipation, when you finally, finally sink down on his cock, it’s still somehow better than you remembered.

You have to take a moment to press your face into the crook of his neck as you get accustomed to the stretch of him inside you. His thumbs trace gentle circles along the globes of your ass and it’s enough to get your cunt to fully relax. You spread your knees a little wider and sink down another inch, gasping as he bottoms out in you. You feel impossibly, overwhelmingly full.

Namjoon smiles as you lift your head and bring one hand up, running your thumb along his jawline. He looks so good like this; his face is flushed and his eyes are dark with lust.

“I forgot how well you take my cock,” he says, giving your ass an approving squeeze. “Such a perfect fit.” The praise makes your pussy clench and he groans at the feeling.

His hands slide over your thighs and up to your hips. “Ride me, baby. Please.”

You can feel every inch of him as you brace your hands on his legs and start to rock your hips, and the sensation is so good you can barely form a coherent thought. Heat rises in your belly as you lift up and lean back slightly, and when you ease your hips down, the head of his dick grinds against your sweet spot.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, and you hear him grunt beneath you as you rock your hips in just the same way over and over and over. It feels so fucking good, you never want to stop. The filthy sounds of your slick cunt only bring you that much closer to your end.

Namjoon’s fingers dig into your skin and he thrusts up into you, matching your rhythm. The pleasure is so forceful now that your walls squeeze tightly around his length. “Just like that, baby, fuck.” He sounds absolutely wrecked. “You feel amazing.”

His thumb moves to press your clit under your skirt and you’re practically vibrating with overstimulation, already incredibly close to coming. Your legs shake so badly that you start to lose your rhythm and he takes control, fucking up into you with fast and powerful strokes. The way he pounds into your cunt feels so overwhelmingly good that your jaw drops open and you moan loudly. He only has to circle your clit one, two, three more times before it’s all over.

You can’t do anything but whimper and throw your head back as your orgasm overtakes you. Your arms threaten to give out and you collapse into his chest. The release of pressure is so intense that you see stars as wetness floods your pussy.

You pulse around him again and again and then Namjoon is coming too, groaning your name, his cock twitching inside you.

For several minutes, all you can do is lay against him, your body shuddering as you come down from the high. His hands press gently against the small of your back as reality slowly returns around you.

Your panting dissolves into soft gasps of laughter; you can’t believe that just happened. Fucking Kim Namjoon in your shitty Honda Civic, of all places. What a time to be alive. You nuzzle your nose against his neck and he turns his head to press a kiss to your hairline. “Welcome back,” he murmurs against your hair.

“Wow,” is all you can manage. You feel completely spent, blissed out.

“That was… crazy.” Namjoon sounds just as much at a loss for words as you are. “You’re so incredible.” He rubs small circles into your back and you sigh. You wish he could fuck you like this every day, but you don’t say that part out loud. You know it’s just the post-orgasm chemicals talking.

You turn your head to the side and laugh again as you realize the car windows are completely covered over with fog. He follows your gaze. “At least we don’t have to worry about whether anyone saw us.”

Feeling starts to come back to your limbs. Soreness is already blooming along the muscles in your thighs and your bent knees, but it was so worth it, you can't even be mad. “I think my legs are broken,” you say with a wince.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds so sincere at first that it makes you smile. “Guess you can blame it on this big dick, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but he’s thoroughly fucked the sass out of you, for now at least. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to shut up, so you pull his face to yours and kiss him instead. He sucks gently on your bottom lip and you think your heart might burst.

Once you finally break apart, you rest your head on his chest again. “Hotel time?”

Namjoon brings a hand up to stroke your hair. “Baby, I’ve got some bad news.”

You freeze, and your stomach drops, preparing for the worst. He’s always been a gentleman and let you stay the night, but he’s busier than ever these days, you know that. Maybe things are different now. You will yourself not to react to whatever he says next, post-orgasm chemicals be damned.

“The minibar in this hotel… it’s awful.”

“Oh, fuck you!” You laugh, pushing against his chest and sitting up to see his dimpled grin. He stretches, hands behind his head, his biceps flexing. He’s so handsome. You absolutely hate him and like him way too much all at once. “You have,” he reminds you. “And you will again soon. But I need some real food first.”

You are starving, you realize. You run a finger across his chest and put on your most seductive voice. “Hmm… how about I take you to In-N-Out? We’re gonna need some protein before round two.”

“Alright,” he shrugs. “But I’m paying.”

“Of course you are, sugar daddy.”

He laughs against your mouth as he kisses you.

A/N: thanks for reading!!! i ended up fulfilling a request for a short companion piece to this! if you want more quippy fuckbuddies goodness, check out five minutes! 💜

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon x y/n #park and ride

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venusandsaturnsrings · 2 years ago

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sorry for the break but im back ueueue

got me thinking,,, do u ever think that incel diluc has some sort of savior complex rooted from the whole dark knight hero thing from canon? like i imagine that when he was running that bar, he'd have cases of people getting roofied and nearly taken advantage of and saves them, not mentioning that more than 3/4s of those cases were paid staff he hired personally,,,,

then when u came along strutting in with ur colorful attire and cheeky grin, dilucs mouth nearly waters and he has since decided to plan the most elaborate rescue to have u in his palms. he doesn't immediately save u when u were dragged out and stuffed into the van, he tracks u down (more like just drives through the abandoned warehouse he obviously rented for this masterpiece) and times his entrance just right so that he can stop it just as u were about to be disrobed. he knows he's won this when he sees ur thankful eyes, mascara running down ur tear streaked cheeks and pupils heart shaped at ur gallant savior.

honestly i see him justifying this with no one being really hurt in the end, and sometimes treat it as some sort of extreme sport.

idk sorry im really bad with other charas that aren't childe aaa

OOOOOOOOOH my love... you always feed me so so yummy... i'm never opposed to childe content EVER since he's almost all i talk about but diluc is so yum too... emotionally constipated red-head man <3 responding to this with @teyvatmoon in mind...

PLEASE READ THE TAGS ON THIS, IT'S A WEE BIT DARK

Diluc could justify anything and its somewhat of a talent. it's gotten him out of plenty sticky situations and is partially what has kept his reputation so very shiny. what kind of respected figure can't smooth talk and pull excuses from their ass? none of them. Diluc can do whatever 'horrible' things he wants as long as he can paint them as 'honorable' instead. who would go against the twenty-three year old student and business owner? no one with a brain, that's for sure.

since owning a café on campus was wildly successful in the day time, it was only the natural progression of things for Diluc to obtain a liquor license to host events in the evening. such after-hours happenings weren't frequent since it always took a lot of work and a lot of staff but he was happy to provide a space on campus for people to drink since, for everyone but you, it was safer. prior to starting these monthly events it took a lot of work with both the university, himself, and city representatives but Diluc is beyond charming when he sees fit. sorting out rules and standards was like nothing to the young man and so, every last Friday of the month, he'd host drinking at was usually a calm café.

you and your friends had frequented there during the day for quite sometime now so it was no surprise when you all began showing up to these monthly binge drinking sessions. it was nice to attend such an event somewhere you were already so familiar with in the day time. it didn't take long for you and the rest of your group to warm up to the place. perhaps for you, it was too fast.

the buildings front was a large glass garage door that would be rolled up in the hot months to create better airflow since there was no air conditioning and it also allowed for more people to hand about the area with extended seating. being September it wasn't quite cold enough for it to be necessary for the door to close and thus it was still left open. students milled about the whole area drinking and laughing. you had decided to wear something a bit more revealing and daring this evening just for fun, well, what was supposed to be fun.

the skimpy and fully pink outfit had definitely garnered stares; hungry ones. such a head-turning outfit surely had more than just Diluc staring desperately. this... choice... of yours simply furthered the righteous feelings brewing in his heart. he was excited and many surly mistook the slight upturn of his lips as love for his work when really it was love for you. it was hard for even such a self controlled man as him not to stare at your tits, ass, thighs, stomach, or any other expanse of skin his eyes could find. your plump flesh was everything to him and he was certainly going to savour this first night of many in which he'd indulge in such a beautiful body. Diluc had almost entirely zoned out on you up until you had finally come to him grinning and asking for a drink. whatever he recommended, you said. his dick jumped at the words. well, he certainly did have something extra special to make for you. the drink was a deep purple colour, bordering on black, and glittering. it smelled of alcohol as well as a cacophony of berries. it tasted almost better than it looked. the only thing that would've made it better was a less salty and bitter taste but Diluc had given it to you on the house so no real complaints could be made. the drink as well as the evening was gone in what felt like seconds.

you had stumbled around back near the parking lot for some air and to text your friends only to remember you had handed off your phone and wallet to one of your friends with pockets in their outfit as you had none. it only took that one moment of disorientation for you to feel as though your body was being twisted and wrung out in every direction. in a way, you were. the hard landing on metal barely covered in cheap blankets did nothing to soothe the growing panic and nausea filling your body. you squirmed in every direction and cried as loud as you could but the hands trying and holding you down never ceased. the latex gloved hands all smelled of rubbing alcohol and all the voices sounded like venom. you were wholly convinced this was where you'd die. the roughhousing that ensued upon the van stopping was almost worse. being thrown on the ground and dragged over sharp gravel and nails would've made you worried about tetanus if there wasn't a knife right against the back of your throat. you heard doors slam and felt your body slam. this was the final time you were to be thrown but also the first time it had caused you to throw up.

the bile rose up your throat quickly. the salty and acidic liquid that rose up ended up covering part of your front and all of the floor in front of you. the group of men merely laughed at you. mocking how you're so weak and useless. can't even hold it together enough to not make yourself sick, they crooned. their hands, however, never let up on their assault of roaming your body. you thought perhaps they expected this and the gloves were a preemptive measure. with your head still spinning and stomach churning you almost felt upset about the masks you could now see obscuring their faces. 'cowards,' you thought. they paused. did you say that aloud? ah. you're really fucked now.

the chunk of wood that flew across the room and hit one of them hard in the nose startled you. with a heavy head, you turned to see him. Diluc. so he had piped up to insult them and he had come to save you; if the gun in his hand was pointed at them the way you thought it was. it didn't take long for the under-armed group to flee and Diluc to land by your side. concern was etched all over his features as he gently untied and helped you up. he didn't seem to mind the vomit getting on him at all. it was sweet in a gross way.

he took you back to his very nice home, after a brief trip to urgent care for aforementioned needed tetanus shot, to have you properly cleaned up and given a mix of medicines that should alleviate the drugs running through you rather quickly. his hands were soft and human. not a touch of latex or a whiff of rubbing alcohol. his arms felt safe. Diluc held you until you slept that night, more than pleased with how things turned out. you'd be his now and the extra jack-off material he got from recording the whole ordeal could stay a secret. that was his guilty pleasure. <3

#cw: vomit #cw: noncon #cw: kidnapping #cw: incel #cw: misogyny #cw: stalker #cw: manipulation #cw: abuse #incel diluc #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #chit chats

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decepti-thots · 2 years ago

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You once asked your followers what did we think Mtmte sale numbers were during publication, and I don't know if I missed a follow-up to that, but what were the actual numbers? How well was Mtmte selling?

AH, thank you for reminding me!! I absolutely meant to post my thoughts and just. Blanked on doing it. brain good tm

So the reason I had asked that is that there's a whole thing about how a lot of folks in this fandom are not like, Comic People TM generally, and perceptions of how comics sell outside the industry/fanbase versus how they actually sell is a big thing. And I had a sneaking suspicion that a) a lot of people in MTMTE/LL fandom think the comic was much more successful than it actually was relative to other comics, and b) that comics period are much bigger sellers than they actually are. (Comics here meaning monthly Western releases.)

And I was right! People gave BONKERS numbers. People said they thought it sold at least 100,000 issues a month on a regular basis. Some people said literally millions. Someone said it 'wasn't that successful' so probably 'only' sold around 75,000.

To give some perspective on those figures, 100,000 is a lot for the best selling comic issue in the entire world that month to sell. If Batman or whatever hits 100k that month, it's probably a big hyped issue or something! One of the things that always astonishes people is that the MCU being the biggest film franchise in the world for like a fucking decade now has in no way changed this. X-Men movies make hundreds of millions. This does not translate into the comics selling significantly more than they used to. (If you want to know more, I highly HIGHLY recommend these two essays by Colin Spacetwinks that go over the historical causes in astonishing detail.)

All that out of the way, let's talk what MTMTE did do numbers wise. In a word: not great, dropping to Very Not Great by the end of LL. Let's cut this, it's gonna get long I think.

MTMTE settled down after its launch at like, around 11-15k shifting per issue month to month. This is... well, for a non big two comic publisher (so, not DC or Marvel), this is kind of average? Not in the sense that this is middling performance, because that's really not great numbers, but in the sense that most comics are not financially succesful period. At DC or Marvel that would be cancellation numbers for a lot of titles. At IDW, it was... well. Average! (Contrary to popular belief, their TF titles were not their biggest seller/license. That was, at that time, MLP by a factor of 2:1. The FiM boom was real.)

This is around on par with exRiD as well, by the way. TF comics just... sold around that much. Steadily, without any great drop off in sales over time once settled, but never really getting more. And the thing IDW spent its whole damn time with the TF license doing was trying and failing to fix this. Every soft reboot, the 2019 reboot, all of it was related to them trying to find a way to bring on and keep new readers to bring the numbers up. And it never, ever worked.

Which sounds surprising, right? MTMTE did bring on new readers. Lots of them. Why didn't the sales figures go up? Well, I have a theory. Which is that the people it brought on were not people who were into other comics and gave TF a go, but instead people for whom TF was not just a first Transformers experience, but their first time with Western comics too. Which matters because comics are sold in a way that is fucking insane that means a lot of the ways people read comics Just Don't Count. And that was especially true back in 2012, when the digital comics industry was much less developed than today.

The reason being: only preorders of individual issues are 'counted' by comics publishers traditionally when tallying up how a comic is performing, really. If you walk into a comic book shop a week after it came out and buy it off the shelf? Does very little for the comic. If you buy it in trades? Nowadays this isn't quite so true as graphic novels have become a much larger part of the market, but traditionally, that really did not help a comic series avoid ongoing cancellation at all. You had to pre-order from a comics retailer, because that dictated how many issues they would pre-order in for future issues, and that was used to judge what series were doing well. Nobody explains this to the average consumer who just wants to read a neat comic. IDW did no work explaining this to new readers. You only know this if you are a Comics Person TM. And a bunch of teen and early 20s new-to-comics people who found and loved MTMTE through word of mouth did not know this, I think! WHY WOULD YOU. THIS IS A TERRIBLE BUSINESS MODEL. (again, there are historical reasons for it; the essays linked explain it.)

This is why Lost Light and Optimus Prime and Til All Are One got the relaunches. An old comics industry standby is to try (and fail) to artificially pump up numbers by relaunching as a new #1 issue and pretend it's a new series to try and attract new readers. That was all editorial fiddling to make the numbers go up. And it failed. Miserably. LL's sales figures infamously fucking tanked compared to MTMTE's early days. It ended at more like 5k a month, which is insta-cancellation levels even for smaller publishers tbqh. I mean that's dire. There were a lot of factors that were at play there. A full analysis is beyond me tbh!

When people say it 'made no sense' to reboot in 2019 and 'cancel their most succesful TF comic(s)' about MTMTE/LL etc, it's just important to know that numbers wise, that is not what happened. Every single IDW TF comic got to cancellation sales numbers and that's what the hard reboot of IDW2 basically was. LL especially was performing atrociously by the standards of its industry (and yes, the comics industry has ludicrous business practices and it's basically impossible to perform well under any circumstances, but that's not the main point here). The cancellation wasn't out of the blue and it wasn't IDW killing off a high performing comic arbitrarily. It cancelled every TF comic performing badly at once; that just happened to be. Like. Every TF comic at the time. And I assume they turned it into a hard reboot because that was like, the one thing they hadn't tried yet.

This got really long, oooops jskhdkjg but. Yeah. Basically, the perception in fandom is often VERY skewed versus what actually happened.

#sidenote: most ppl who DID say they were familiar with comics guessed correctly.#almost everyone who said that guessed 7-20k a month which is around right.

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rapturerecords · 4 years ago

Text

BioShock’s Soundtrack Timeline Quirks and Hiccups

Here’s a question customers have posed while shopping around in this record store: “Is the BioShock soundtrack historically accurate?”

The short answer is no. This is of course including a presumption of a distinct cutoff year. If on the other hand, you would consider the reverse, “Is the BioShock soundtrack historically appropriate?”, well we shall see.

So let’s briefly break down the soundtrack of each game.

In the first Bioshock, the game opens with the year 1960 before taking us down to the underwater city of Rapture. However, Andrew Ryan had cut off contact with the Surface some time before, coupled with the Rapture Civil War officially starting on New Year’s Day in 1959. Granted several songs in BioShock were recorded in that last decade through the 50s including “Danny Boy” (1952), “Papa Loves Mambo” (1954), “It’s Bad for Me” (1955) and so on.

Frank Fontaine’s smuggling operations could account for the fact of the very late 1959 release dates of Bobby Darin’s “Beyond the Sea” and Noël Coward’s “20th Century Blues”, however Fontaine allegedly died in September 1958 according to the newspaper article in the Rapture Standard.

Even with Fontaine’s shenanigans, it doesn’t account for the 1966 version of Patti Page’s “Doggie in the Window” or the 2004 version of Cole Porter’s “You’re the Top” as seen below. Other songs include the assorted instrumental tracks recorded in the 1990s such as “The Ballroom Waltz”, “And All the While I’m Loving You” or even the 1966 song “Academy Award”. Lastly, there is still the mystery of the numerous instrumental guitar and violin songs supposedly performed or inspired by Django Reinhardt used in BioShock.

Creative Director Ken Levine obliquely mentioned the problem of using re-recordings and alternate versions of songs in a 2007 interview with Electronic Gaming Monthly.

...Or I would research on Wikipedia or talk to my dad, and then I would go and listen to little snippets, and I'd ask myself, "Does this feel like it belongs in Rapture?" [Dealing with this era of] licensed music... is a very complicated process, because generally you're dealing with people who are dead and their lawyers are dead. The rights are often very complicated, and so a lot of times we'd want a song and we wouldn't get it. We'd have to find another person who performed it, or another version of the recording or something like that. We had to be fairly flexible.

Overall, BioShock 2 does have the most historically accurate soundtrack of the series, excluding the songs reprised from the first BioShock. The game ostensibly takes place in 1968, or 10 years later from 1958 according to the opening titles.

All things considered, its only soundtrack transgression is using the 1976 version of “Daddy’s Little Girl” as seen below.

Aside from that, its newest songs unique to the game are 1945′s “Dream” and “It’s Only a Paper Moon”. Many songs trend older towards the 1920s and 1930s, reflecting the older portions of Rapture seen in the game with some of the oldest tracks being 1929′s “Daddy Won’t You Please Come Home” and “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out”.

BioShock Infinite and the floating city of Columbia introduces time as central plot point and with it some interesting soundtrack implications. Keeping in mind the setting is 1912, its soundtrack can be broadly divided into three categories

Modern covers of existing period songs were recorded especially for the game such as “After You’ve Gone”, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken”, and the Scott Joplin rags.

Deliberately anachronistic songs are provided as a plot point courtesy of Messrs. Albert Fink and Scott Bradlee rearranging modern songs to sound period such as “Girls Just Want to Have Fun”, “Fortunate Son”, “Tainted Love” and so on.

Lastly there are the period songs meant to evoke the flavor of the 1912 setting. While some are authentically of the era including some very old Edison cylinders, quite a few bleed into the 1920s and 30s including “Ain’t She Sweet” (1927), “Button Up Your Overcoat” (1929), and “St. James Infirmary” (1930). Bessie Smith manages to crossover to both cities in both BioShock Infinite and BioShock 2 with “I’m Wild About That Thing”, “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out”, and “Need a Little Sugar in My Bowl”. In addition, several recordings are presented “live” in the game, but were recorded much later such as the prison work song recorded by Alan Lomax, “Black Gal” in 1959 and “Shake Sugaree” recorded in 1967.

Lastly, Burial at Sea features a coda. Both Patsy Cline songs “She’s Got You” and “Back in Baby’s Arms” were recorded in the 1960s, well after the 1959 date of the events of the game. However in a tragic twist of fate, she would die shortly after recording the songs in a plane crash.

Creative Director Ken Levine again mentioned the problem of finding music “that sounds great to the modern ear” in a 2012 interview with Wired magazine.

But one of my favorite parts of my job is choosing the licensed music. BioShock Infinite is set in an interesting time because it’s right at the beginning of jazz and blues. Music before jazz and blues is not very listenable. I mean popular music -– it’s really kind of awful. You know, the John Philip Sousa marches and stuff. And then you get jazz and blues coming in, with the early stuff like ragtime.

It’s much more challenging to find music from that era that sounds great to a modern ear. BioShock was set in 1959, so we had this huge slate of great music to choose from. But here we don’t have all the chord progressions, and the things we like didn’t exist or had just started to exist. So finding music has been a really interesting challenge...

The most important thing is that you get people to feel things. I’ll give you a hint: There weren’t flying cities in 1912 nor were there underwater cities and genetic technology in 1959 (laughs). So, yeah, you play a little fast and loose. You could argue that this is Columbia and we do things a little differently.

You’ve already heard some of the strange musical things in the game...

Less discerning record customers may have grabbed the wrong discs and are surprised to find the recordings don’t match what they’ve heard.

I have taken the liberty of conducting a synchronization of a number of the more unusual re-recordings which the games use instead of the originals. These are presented in the new stereophonic sound format, be advised it is recommended to have two speakers far apart to get the full effect, or at the very least avoid having two speakers that are too close together.

The original older track is on the listener’s left while the newer one used in the games are on the listener’s right.

Some of the more fantastically-minded among us down here in Rapture might be tempted to simply blame the above on those newfangled Tears. But it is the records that speak for themselves.

youtube

Patti Page’s “The Doggie in the Window”

1952 Mercury Records version (original)

1966 Columbia Records version (used in BioShock)

youtube

Cole Porter’s “You’re the Top”

1934 Victor Records version (original)

2004 version with Vince Giordano and The Nighthawks (used in BioShock)

youtube

Mills Brothers’ “Daddy’s Little Girl”

1950 Decca Records version (original)

1976 Ranwood Records version (used in BioShock 2)

The original versions of the songs are featured occasionally here with the addendum that they were not actually used in the game. They are marked with the RRR for Rapture Records Recommendation.

There are number of other instances where an artist recorded more than one version of a song, typically well before, such as Noël Coward’s 1959 “Party’s Over Now” and his slightly longer 1932 version. But that’s left for another revolution of the record.

#video game music #ludomusicology #bioshock music #bioshock #bioshock 2 #bioshock infinite #burial at sea

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cloudy-reverie · 3 years ago

Note

Hello I want to ask you something about Mars Red (I don't mind about spoilers) tell me what happened with Maeda and Yamagami-san in chapter 13 and also, do you think the anime was good enough? Thanks.

Hi there! I’ll answer both of your questions under the cut, as this will be a long post.

Do I think the anime was good enough? Well, I have mixed feelings about it, and I’ve been thinking of doing a full post of my thoughts after I’ve watched it all a second time now that it’s complete and easy to marathon. I enjoyed the anime immensely, but I’m not above critiquing things I like, either.

I started reading the Mars Red manga last year, and even now after the anime, I still prefer the manga’s version of events. I haven’t seen the stage play, the original source of material, so I can’t account for how accurately the manga or the anime adapted its events. As I understand it, the anime gained attention just for being an adaptation of a stage play, which doesn’t happen very often. Usually, it’s the other way around. That explains the interesting use of cinematography in the anime, the emphasis on drama and soliloquys and so forth. Some people might find the anime pretentious in that way, but, well, it is what it is, being adapted from theatre. Being an English Literature major, I didn’t mind it, and I also like the occasional artsy series.

Anyway, as a manga reader, I had different expectations going into the anime. The manga is more character-driven, whereas I feel the anime was more plot-driven, and the addition of anime-only characters – as interesting as they are – made the series seem crowded with only 12 episodes to pack everything in. The manga fleshes out the regular cast more (the anime didn't fully touch upon Defrott and Suwa’s pasts, left out Takeuchi’s shock over a revelation, erased parts of Maeda’s personality, left out some fun Code Zero moments, Aoi encountering Code Zero early on, etc.), and it definitely toned down the violence for a more mainstream audience because Shutaro’s manga rescue of Yamagami was far bloodier and terrifying, as Shutaro, agonizingly, begins to realize what he’s capable of and who he may become.

And one example that I still complain about (lol) is that in the manga, Shutaro and Aoi’s relationship is highlighted in the first chapter alone and emphasized in subsequent chapters. It’s clear they care for each other. It’s clear they’re among the main stage players. It’s easier to be emotionally invested in what happens to them by the end.

In the anime, Maeda takes centre stage instead, with the first episode introducing us to his fiancée, Misaki, whom he has never met in-person until she becomes a vampire. From that point onward, their what-if relationship and Maeda’s regret is frequently alluded to, culminating in the final episode.

Typically, whoever you introduce in the first chapter/episode are the characters that you’ll be going on a journey with, so it was a bit jarring for me when I realized Shutaro and Aoi and the rest of Code Zero wouldn’t be introduced until the second episode (well, Aoi did make an appearance, but they had her interact with Maeda more). We never get to see all of the flashbacks of Aoi and Shutaro, never are shown how much Aoi is determined to find Shutaro. We never even get to see Shutaro's “dream visit,” and then that silly vampire (sorry, Shutaro, I still love ya) left visible footprints in her yard after claiming he was a ghost, and she definitely noticed, so she knows something is up. Had if we had received all of that, perhaps the rescue and the finale would’ve been far more emotional for anime-only viewers invested in their relationship.

Instead, there was more feeling for Maeda and Misaki because the anime took care in telling their story. The anime was good in that aspect because they made Maeda and Misaki’s tragic relationship the focus, and so we were able to reach full circle by the end. Meanwhile, with Shutaro and Aoi practically being sidelined, I saw comments from anime-only viewers confused about why they were suddenly a main couple or getting the spotlight in the end. The anime could’ve avoided that confusion by tightening up their storytelling and fleshing out Aoi and Shutaro more as characters.

I also feel the anime focused a lot more on the politics and military, too. There were so many lengthy meeting scenes when it’s more balanced in the manga, I find. Also, just the other day, I was rereading some exchanges between Shutaro and Yamagami, and laughing, and thinking about why the anime didn’t include those because they were funny daily life scenes. There are also anime reviews complaining about the pacing, the random tone changes, and other things that might’ve compelled them to rate the anime higher.

So, do I think the anime is good? I might be biased, but I enjoyed it; it wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was good for what it intended to deliver. Also, I like series based in the Taisho era, so that was a bonus for me. The manga isn’t 100% perfect, either; it might disappoint Maeda fans, for one thing, and it does tell its story quickly (I wish it was longer). I personally prefer the manga over the anime, but I love both.

The way I view Mars Red anime and manga is like this: Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (2009) are both favourite series of mine. FMAB is prefered by most people, and is widely considered one of the greatest anime series ever, a modern masterpiece. It adapted the manga completely – only because the manga had finished by then, and I absolutely love the manga. However, it doesn’t mean FMA ’03 is bad in comparison; it just has a different but no less unique storyline that Arakawa also liked. With the manga still running at the time, FMA '03, being as popular as it was, had no choice but to go its own way for completion's sake.

This is the case for me here: I like the Mars Red anime and manga for different reasons. I’d probably recommend the manga first due to my preference for deeper character development. But the anime also tells an interesting version, though it could’ve done with a more streamlined focus. Karakara Kemuri adapted Fujisawa Bun-o’s stage play in her own way, presumably keeping to the general storyline but also adding personal touches of her own (you’ll know if you’ve read any of her works before); Signal M.D. studio handled the anime adaptation with their own team of writers while striving for the theatrical atmosphere of its roots. They accomplish different results.

And now that there’s a game with more information about the characters, the Mars Red universe seems so much bigger in an exciting way.

Now, to your second question:

MAGComi is a monthly manga magazine, and you can read chapters online for free for a limited time. They made chapter 13 available to read while the final chapter 14, newly released, is for premium subscribers. Chapter 12 is still available to view, as well.

Since I can’t read Japanese, I will be excitedly awaiting a translation from Laughing in Quarantine scanlations until I get my officially licensed volumes in English this year and next. Thus, I can only make guesses based on visuals alone while factoring in the anime’s events.

So, in the previous chapter 12, Code Zero encounter Nakajima, as they do in the anime, though the context differs slightly. It’s more menacing, and Maeda is revealed to be inside one of those vampire unit mechanical suits, already a vampire himself, near mindless. Yamagami is enraged. A fight ensues. Then, the Great Kanto Earthquake occurs, as it does in the anime.

In chapter 13, as you can see, the fight continues, dangerously close to shafts of sunlight; the rest seem trapped by the rubble, unable to get to the two in time. Yamagami sees Maeda shed a tear, and they exchange words, and Yamagami seems determined to save Maeda’s humanity. Yamagami then pushes himself and Maeda into the sunlight. They grin at each other, exchanging more words, as they are both swept up into flames, dying together.

Then more incredible stuff happens in the rest of the chapter, as you can see! We’ll have to wait for the scanlation team to provide us more solid answers.

#mars red #ask #these are just my thoughts and opinions; no one has to agree #my post

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samiii-p · 3 years ago

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miss temptation (I don’t think you know) 1/?

aka The Maryan Roommate AU no one asked for 🙃 ao3

“You need a home address by next week or I’m writing you up.”

Fuck

Scratching an 'X' over another available apartment listing in the newspaper, Ryan grunts, blacking it out in her frustration. This one was her last true option within her price range and it was about the size of a walk-in closet with a communal bathroom to boot.

And no, just no. God no.

At least the last one had a view. It was a brick wall of the neighboring apartment but one nonetheless.

“You know for someone who needed this job, you sure don’t look the part.”

Sucking her teeth, Ryan glances up from her troubles, spots Luke in his custom three piece suit, grumbles and glances back at the paper where the only options left cost an arm and a leg to stay. Gotham wasn’t cheap by any stretch of the imagination, but selling her organs on a monthly basis just to get by didn’t seem all that appealing either.

“What do you want, Luke?”

“Can’t a guy just stop by?”

“Sure.” Ryan says, flipping the newspaper to the next page, maybe she could find something outside of town. The commute would be hell, but at least she’d have an address and her parole officer would finally get off her back. “I take it that’s not what you’re here for though.”

She hears him harrumph and nothing else. He does it a second later, again … and again.

“Okay, how can I help you?” She asks, sliding her current issues down the counter. Another 18 months in jail won’t hurt, let alone leaving the city in shambles when Batwoman disappears again .

Luke tilts his chin, hard line forming between his brows, a look Ryan has grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. Even though he’s apologized and promised to give her a chance until Kate’s return, there's still a tiny bit of friction lying beneath the surface no matter how much they both try to ignore it.

Reaching into his breast pocket he unearths a photo and slides it across the bar into Ryan’s line of vision. A picture of a black mask, outlined like a skeleton, stares up at her with cold hard eyes. In the corner a coiled snake is drawn with Luke’s handwriting underneath.

Snakebite - fear toxin/mushrooms

“Um, who or what am I looking at?”

He thumps the photo twice. “I was hoping you could tell me. You said you run in similar circles-”

“- ran.”

“As Victor Zsasz, I was hoping you could tell me a little about our friend here.”

“Sorry to tell you this but, no.” She pushes off the bar with a huff, nodding at the photo. “Whoever this person is, is new in town. At least to me.”

“Yeah, well his snakebite is hitting the streets like a plague and no one knows its source. There’s only this photo as a possible supplier but there’s no name, no facial recognition, no origin or leaks, no nothing.”

“So what do we do?”

“You suit up.”

Heat signature enabled, Ryan takes a look around the abandoned building noting two low level street hands Luke identifies as TJ Pillar: 1 to 3 strike for armed robbery and Curtis Armstrong: out on parole for possession.

“Come on, dude.”

She totally gets how uneasy it is to get back on your feet after spending a little over a year incarcerated but at least try to do better.

“What?” Luke asks through the coms, Ryan ignores him, scouting more of the building. It’s been over an hour and nothing. They wouldn’t be here if no one was coming but it’s growing closer to midnight and she has to be back at work at nine.

“Can’t I just bring them in? It’s late.”

“I mean you could, but it’ll be a waste of time. The guys on the street don’t know anything except to wait for the drop here.”

“And we couldn’t call in Gotham PD or the Crows for surveillance because..?”

“Hey, you wanted the job, this is what it entails.”

Behind the mask, Ryan’s eyes roll, mocking this is what the job entails meh meh, like she's a child grounded for the night, which, all things considered…

“Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do.”

“Okay! Okay!” Over the coms, Ryan hears hushed voices arguing, a muffled ‘no’ then the sound of chairs being switched, Luke’s voice replaced by Mary’s, “heeey, girl. How ya’ doing?”

She smirks, attitude vanishing the moment the heiress speaks. Call it a general preference to all things sans-Luke based but she’d one hundred present rather talk to Mary until the butt crack of dawn instead of Mr. Kate would do it like this and Kate would do it like that. For starters Mary’s a lot nicer. Calmer. Funnier, I mean the girl’s one liners are top tier, bone tickling funny.

And well, she was a hell of a lot prettier too.

“Oh, you know, just pulling an all-nighter right before my day shift.”

A hiss sounds dramatically over the intercoms, the image of Mary’s twisted face pops up and Ryan can almost see the apple of her cheeks bunching and her eyes closing in that cute ass scrunchy face she makes when she’s thinking hard or embarrassed clear as day.

“Don’t worry about it, you can always come in later.”

“You enable her by making exceptions.”

“Luke!”

“What!?”

More muffled noises, a bang and yelp later Mary comes back on. “What I was getting at is that if you want to come in a little bit late, it’s totally fine or we can even change your schedule to mid-day, as your boss and fellow bat accomplice, I would totally understand.”

The corner of Ryan lips quirks up, “you don’t have to do that.”

“I do. We don’t know for sure how long you’ll be out tonight. Coming in afterwards is going to be draining-”

“It’ll be draining for all of us.” Luke yells.

“Shh!”

Unfortunately, Luke has a point. It's not fair on the team if she’s the only one taking the easy way out when they all have lives and responsibilities outside of the cave to adhere to, and a mid-day shift would never work anyway. Mid-day is Officer Steven’s favorite time of day to intrude on Ryan’s life.

“No that’s okay,” Ryan says, “Luke’s right. I have to put on my big girl panties and suck it up like everyone else, besides, I’m going to be too busy selling body parts for an overpriced cardboard box in the foreseeable future or it's a one way ticket back to Black Gate-”

“Wait, what-?”

“Oh, hold up.” An engine alerts Ryan to an incoming vehicle speeding into the warehouse disrupting their conversation. “We got action.”

Censors pick up on a lone body inside, facial recognition scanners kick on and work to identify the driver’s profile as well as the car’s make, model design, vehicle number and license plate number are all shot over to home base for further analysis. She twitches them off once complete just in time to see a window roll down and a hand throw two duffle bags out the window before speeding off.

“Did we get anything?”

A beat passes before Mary’s back on, “Not yet. Gotham PD and the Crows database has no facial identification, Luke’s expanding the search but the car is unmarked, plates false, even the tires vin numbers have been scrubbed. Whoever this person is, really doesn’t want to be found.”

From Ryan’s personal experience, news like that is never good. Someone that deep undercover either has a checkbook large enough to make themselves disappear or an iron grip so ruthless the utter mention of their name is probable cause for permanent removal. This was going to be harder than any of them expected.

“Keep me posted.”

Kicking off the beam she leaps down sticking another perfect grand entrance; hoping the acclaimed symbol printed on her chest will be enough to scare off the bad guys for once.

She is really tired after all.

Unfortunately, Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dumb both reach for guns, shooting before she can warn them to stand down. And there goes her ‘early’ night. Figures.

“Ya’ll know I’m fucking bullet proof, right?”

Another bullet ricochets off the suit as she takes a step forward. Idiots. Surprisingly they keep at it until the clip clinks, empty, and Ryan comes face to face with Curtis who tries throwing a punch she easily ducks, coming back up to head butt him so hard his knees crumple. His coworker steps up and he’s a bit more of a challenge throwing blow for blow with her until she ducks up under him and comes back with a roundhouse kick to his Adams apple. He clutches his windpipe, now down on one knee she delivers the final blow to the bridge of his nose.

She picks up the bags and hightails it out of there, latching onto a high beam for an easy escape, and heads towards G.C.P.D where she drops the contraband with a note attached of where they can find the assailants tied up and ready for arrest.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re homeless!?”

Ryan wonders if disrupting her day as a civilian was going to become normal protocol for Luke and Mary going forward and on a recurring basis.

“I wouldn’t say homeless.”

“How else would you classify living out of your van down by the docks?”

“Surviving on wheels – ow!” Ryan giggles, rubbing her shoulder and doesn’t know whether to cower or soothe the frustrating scowl rapidly spreading across her friend’s face. “How’d you find out?”

“I had Luke track you after you left last night.”

“Wow, talk about invasion of privacy.”

“And for good reason, why didn’t you say anything?”

Ryan flips an empty glass, dries it out before placing it on the rack and considers how to move the conversation forward, possibly far, far away from this topic all together. The best she comes up with is, “it’s handled.”

Handled ends up being a 200 square feet one room apartment Mary demands to see. The bedroom, kitchen and living room are all one in the same but at least she has her own bathroom. The walls are paper thin, she’s pretty certain the constant dripping sound is coming from the kitchen, one she can easily fix after a YouTube tutorial or two, and a hotter than hell furnace the landlord warns her not to touch when the temperature is anywhere over 60 F unless she enjoys suffocating.

She watches Mary take in the room, the petite brunette moving in a slow swirl on her heels, lip turned down and Ryan just knows it’s not good when they make eye contact.

“Nu-uh.”

“What do you mean nu-uh?” Confused, Ryan watches Mary storm past her and out the door. “Mary! Mary, what does that mean? Mary!?”

Mary breaks her housing contract. When Ryan tries to object she quickly learns that all 5’2 of Mary Hamilton-Kane is nothing to play against and a powerhouse forced to be reckoned with.

… It kind of gets Ryan hot under the collar watching Mary tell her landlord exactly what’s about to happen, and cutting a check like it's nothing in the process.

Assertive has always kinda been her type.

“You’ll be staying here.”

Mary says, showing Ryan around her penthouse in the upper echelon of Gotham City. The apartment is just shy the size of a department store, the lounge being big enough to take up most of the square footage, built in with four bedrooms, one now officially hers, one for guests and another used for office space and three huge bathrooms big enough to house a football team.

“Jesus,” the name slips under her breath as she takes it all in. This place is – is. It’s too much. “I can’t afford this.”

The carpet under her feet probably cost more money than she'll ever see in her lifetime.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking you to pay anything.” Ryan quickly gets shut down as Mary carries on, “until you can save enough money to get back on your feet. It’s the least I can do. Being this city’s vigilante is hard work. The last thing you need to worry about is where you’re going to lay your head at night.”

It makes sense, but still. “I’m not comfortable asking you - I won’t use you.”

“You’re not.” The med student emphasizes. Mary takes the box out of her hands and places it on a dresser. “My home is yours now, bestie. Stay as long as you want to.” And before Ryan can prepare herself, Mary’s arms are snug around her waist and her cover girl smile is beaming up at her.

This is going to be terrible.

It’s worse.

Far worse than Ryan could have ever predicted. Not only is Mary super considerate of her new roommate, but she makes her resources Ryan’s own. She’s never slept so good, ate so well or drank water so delicious for that matter. Until recently she thought water was just water but Mary’s fridge is full of this alkaline stuff straight from the mountains, and Ryan swears she can never look back.

“You want pickles?”

Ryan visibly gulps, sitting on the couch, eyes focused on anything other than Mary prancing around the kitchen in her underwear. Mary’s always been super comfortable in her skin but especially at home when she’s surrounded by her things in her place of peace and why shouldn’t she be, this is her home. Ryan wants her to go about as she normally would, actually prefers if Mary pretended Ryan wasn't there altogether. The last thing she wants is to intrude or take up space but she can only take so much. It’s been nearly a month of coming home to Mary asking how her day was, waking up to Mary smiling at her over homemade breakfast or passing out on the couch cuddled together after another failed movie night. There’s only so much she can take.

What they’re doing is borderline domestic. And Ryan’s too gay for this.

“…pickles?”

“Hmm – what?”

“I asked if you want pickles on your sandwich?”

"Uh, sure."

Handing her a plate, Mary plops down on the couch leaving no space between the two and licks the pad of her thumb, humming pleasantly at the taste.

Ryan bites the inside of her cheek. “So, what are we watching?”

Hopefully something gory, and bloody staring a cis-het white male. Anything to take Ryan’s mind off of Mary Hamilton.

Mary chooses Its Okay Not to be Okay on Netflix and by the end of episode 2 both girls are huddled together, simping hard for all the three leading actors. Mary is obsessed with Kim Soo-Hyun's entire face and Ryan’s pretty sure if Seo Ye-Ji stomped on her in six inch heels and dragged her through the mud, she’d thank her.

At least they can agree Oh Jung-se is a freaking king and is killing his role as Moon Sang Tae.

It's nearly midnight before they start to turn in, cleaning up the little mess they made, Ryan shuts off the lights and walks Mary to her room; the first door to the right.

“Night.”

It kind of feels like a date, which is absurd. She knows. But can you blame her when pillow soft lips press against her cheek and Mary breathes, “sleep tight, Ryan” in her ear. Its stupid. She’s being stupid, and seeing things that arent there. Or maybe she needs to get laid. Whatever she needs to do, Mary can’t be a part of it.

After weeks of failed interrogations the team finally manages to catch a break. A source looking to get out and start over leaks the warehouse location where a scheduled supply of ingredients are due to be shipped in at any day now. Niko of course makes Batwoman promise to protect him at all cost and that means working with the Crows.

“Where’s the shipment being dropped?” Sophie asks.

“Unimportant.”

The lieutenant cocks her head to the side, unsurprised at how this conversation is going. The Bat has never worked well with authority in this town, no matter who dons the emblem.

“The only thing I need is for you to make sure Niko is somewhere safe, undetected.”

“Is he at least willing to stand trial in the event you manage to catch this guy?”

“I think that all depends on if your team can keep him alive. Crow.”

The alley is dark, damp and the chill fogs Sophie’s breath as she sighs. “You're going to get yourself killed. I know you have something against my badge and everything it stands for, but it can do some good if you let it. Now, tell me where the shipment is and I can have my team there as back up in seconds. We can get this drug and these thugs off the street.”

That word makes Ryan's jaw tingle. Thug. Of course a Crow wouldn't understand that sometimes people do bad things to make ends meet, but it doesn't make them bad people. To a Crow they’re all the same and need to be locked away never to see the light of day again. Including her.

“Focus on our informant. If I need you for anything else I know how to find you.” And she’s gone, vanished in a cloud of fog.

“Nice job pissing off potential allies.” Ryan switches her coms off.

The warehouse is guarded heavily by six men up top, double the number at the bottom not including the others unloading trucks full of supplies. Photo analysis identifies them and sends the information to Gotham P.D. before she strikes.

“Hope you’re ready for this. If we’re lucky this can all be over tonight.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Taking it as his cue, Luke hits the lights covering the warehouse in complete darkness. Motion sensors switch on and Batwoman moves into action. The training her team insists she go through pans out as she’s able to take out four guys twice her size in fast compact moves. One guy goes over the railing after she cracks him in the nuts with the steel toe of her boot. His strangled whimper is heard all the way down, but hey, no one ever said this was going to be a fair fight.

The team at the bottom catches on and gun fire immediately follows, running across the bridge Ryan spreads her arms and flies through the air, her red and black cape bellows behind her as she sticks another perfect superhero landing. All at once it seems like twenty people are coming at her from all different angles but as always she's quick on her feet tying a handful of them up by their ankles and running through the rest with a non lethal taser, just enough to subdue until she can contain everyone before she starts asking questions.

“We ain’t telling you shit!”

Another guy spits on her shoe, the red of his blood splattering against her boot and she rolls her eyes. There’s no need to be nasty.

“Look, I’m trying to help you guys out here.” Spotting a pair of boobs in the corner, she course corrects, “and girls - theys? Whatever! I’m trying to help you all out here. This thing,” she holds up a box of snakebite, “is killing the community and while it may bring you all brief satisfaction, financially, what’s it going to do for your futures when you get caught, to your families?”

“Who knew the new edition of the Bat came with such a bleeding heart?”

“Well, she does. So if anyone here is willing to tell me anything that’ll point me in the right direction of your boss, I promise I can protect you, get you somewhere safe.”

From the little the authorities have been able to dig up about this gang, anyone willing to betray their leader either winds up dead or living their last days in a vegetative state. That’s why it’s so important to have Niko, no matter the length it takes to protect him, it was for the sake of Gotham.

“I said-!”

“I heard you the first time,” Ryan says, cutting him off, “And I don’t know what you’re used to but I’m only going to tell you how this is played once. I ask the questions and you give me the answers, if you don’t, have fun rotting in jail or better yet … I can let the little I do know out onto the streets.” She bends down right in front of the man and lifts his rabbit mask, exposing his face. In seconds she knows his name. “I’m sure your boss would love to know who’s ratting him out, huh, Robert Michael Humprey?”

The terror in his eyes says it all.

#ryan wilder #mary hamilton #batwoman #maryan

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themeed · 4 years ago

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damn allowed myself to want things for a day and all i want is a van to live in, knowledge, freedom, weight loss, and a bass guitar.

im. happy with that i think. im proud of me, no jokes. im proud of being able to want things and care about them and vibrate towards them with longing. im... pleased with that. its fulfilling in a way Not Wanting For Anything isnt, because thats... kinda hollow. empty. in a vacant, lonely, yearning and grieving and SAD way. maybe because i Couldnt Want then. i Couldnt Desire or it would be used against me or taken away. that sucks. that sucked.

and now. im free to want again. and comparatively???? i think im very much never going to aim for buddhism or that weird Not Desiring Not Attached Nirvana mindset. like good for u but been there out of trauma and its not fun theres no reason to truly Live. u just float endlessly and experience and it aches so badly!!!! it hurts to want to want and not be able to. and i guess that is different from not wanting at all but... its not different enough for me to justify ever going back to that. or going forward to that. i just got this back and screw enlightenment if it means i have to give up on my passions i dont think life is worth living without it.

and anybody who looks down on that from a spiritual tower has yet to examine their own pride and how empty they feel without it.

anybody who looks down and smiles and wishes me luck on my journey? good for them. im glad theyre living their best life, on their journey as they see fit.

and i feel the need to protect myself because ive been hurt by the pride- the arrogance of others before. a lot of my hurts and traumas stem from my mother being too prideful to recognize that she can be wrong and someone under her power could be correct over her. and it was an uncomfortable truth. so she denied it was one at all and hurt me. i know the reason could be elaborated on. she didnt want to confront her own internal logic. or trauma. or even doublethink. that doesnt excuse her hurting a child for the sake of her sense of pride, of comfort, of self-worth. a child under her power, that she claimed to be parent of. teacher of.

not owing anyone anything is not the same as not hurting anyone. i havent reconciled that yet. oppressors should be held accountable for their mistakes, and give reparations if the harm is physical at LEAST. and i think that applies to politics, yes. privately though? if i beat up a nazi, i dont want to pay for his hospital bills. my personal philosophy struggles between equating people and ideas as a worth measurement, and realizing that that line of thinking is... similar to oppressors. but. its based on something people can change. the question is, do i think "if given the opportunity" is a good enough reason to stop and question a racist that runs their mouth? and do i think pre-emptive violence is okay? if say, a nazi walks into a bar and doesnt say anything but is wearing all the red flags and bells and whistles. i dont think that justifies a beatdown. being asked to leave, sure, but the beatdown doesnt start til the first remark flies.

once the intent is given OR the action is taken, the line is drawn. doesnt matter if they Havent Had The Chance. if theyre starting shit outside of debate spaces like that, and not, say, asking questions, theyre not looking for new perspectives, and it is NOT my job to educate people. its not my job to Show People The Light. a quick fucking google search could tell them why theyre wrong. if they havent put even the most basic energy into questioning their beliefs, thats on them.

it sounds like im trying to absolve myself of blame here. largely because. i think i should go out and help educate people because theyre inherently complacent if theyre, yknow, in a position of power. aka white folk and men and rich folk and cis folk and on and on and on. these people dont live my reality. they dont live the reality of a gay black man in the south, or a genderqueer lesbian in the west, or an indigenous woman whose nation is being targeted, or a muslim woman who cannot wear her headcoverings in the face of danger of death, or an asian immigrant who cant get a job because of COVD age discrimination resurging. we will never live each others realities, but we can become aware of them.

they wont come into awareness without someone asking or telling, and then doing something to change them.

we shouldnt need to go running to people in power for them to be aware of problems in the populace, govt is supposed to help and solve issues like this. like. actively. thats the whole point, make life better for the countrys citizens. and individuals in a position of social power...

are individuals who didnt take on a responsibility to protect and serve or otherwise care for the populace of a nation. i personally think they SHOULD care, but they are not obligated to. i cant make them care about others.

and honestly, on some of them, it would be a waste of time. there are people who want to change or question things and yknow what? they seek out answers. in people or places or online usually. stats and stories.

so like. i dont think someones Potential as a person matters when theres a throwdown about to happen. it really isnt my responsibility to save people from themselves or try to change their sides against their will. if they want to chat about it they can ask questions first.

not throw insults or punches or hatred.

what people have been taught is worth analyzing and trying to correct IN SOCIETY but i cant fix every broken white boy that comes to me. PSAs, fliers, outreach, online videos, debate spaces. those are things i already have access to and can be a part of if i really want to go around changing minds. or yknow. get involved in legislation and be myself around others to change their perceptions of whats socially acceptable or normal. maybe protest, maybe call congressfolk, etc.

but not every comment has to be analyzed or a learning opportunity. im allowed to shut it down, and people can respect that or stop talking to me. this isnt my parents house where i had to justify everything that i said or did when scrutinized, and doubly justify any criticism i had of mother, or any joke i frowned at instead of smiling.

these people dont have that power over me. they arent my mother. they arent my boss, and if they are i can fuck off and get a new job if necessary. they dont have financial control over my living space and food and schooling and physical control of where i can go and with who and for how long. I CONTROL THAT. I do.

Huh. maybe thats why i want a van so bad. i mean... when this lease ends if nobody is gonna end up living with me...

i could just... live in my car and shower at truck stops. get a storage unit for my stuff. save by driving jobs. like 40 to 60 a day. tear out my cars back, insulate it, and install my mattress pad there. water on the floor, cooler next to it, wooden cutting coard, knife, single camping plateware set, and another little shelf for spices. maybe a hot plate i can hook up to the car battery? get a long enough usb and it might be doable. i could go camping and open the trunk to just... vibe.

because yeah, honestly? i dont plan on having a solid apartment for a bit. like a long bit. and i still have like 70000 miles on my car before itll want to go. and by that point, even at like 100 miles a day, thats like 2 years, less if i go cross country in that vehicle. i could save up SO MUCH for a better vehicle, or like. college. live on campus, get some credit, continue working after i figure out want i want to do.

i think thats a solid plan, even if i dont get another apartment and put everything in storage. work as i need to instead of all the time for rent, really only paying for gas, car repairs, car ins, food, and phone data/hotspot internet... that would bring my monthly expenses down to like 500 a month max instead of like 1400. id only need to make some 1000 a month doing contract stuff to save for taxes and stuff. anything extra would be just that: extra for savings and things. holy shit.

depending on how this next month goes for my friends, holy s h i t.

i. i might do this. legitimately.

i. dont think i can yet. i need proof of address to get my license im pretty sure? but hey, thatll be my 21st this year, so. once i have that i wont need a new address for a While. i dont know if ill want one, really.

i could always just ask a friend or family member if i could use theirs for mail that cant go to a PO box.

anyway. yeah. wow.

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paramountz-official · 3 years ago

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webuyhousesfastllc · 4 years ago

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Selling Your House Fast using the “Subject To” Method

By: The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC

Why would anyone want to sell their home via subject to financing? Aren’t their major risks associated with such undertaken? What if the buyer flakes and defaults on the note? This situation alone would be enough to deter any homeowner from selling their home in such a way as relying on another stranger to pay their mortgage. Worst of all, your credit score would take a significant hit alongside many other financial hardships. On the contrary, everything could also, too, go as planned with the mortgage getting paid down and your credit score gradually increasing.

Today, most FSBO’s shy away from such creative deal structuring due to one major issue, LACK OF KNOWLEDGE!

That’s right! A recent poll taken by The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC had determined this issue among a survey selection of 50 FSBO’s who were either currently selling or planning to sell their homes very soon. The survey showed us that out of the 50 FSBO’s, on a professional critique level, 42 within the sample of 50 would have benefited more from a subject to deal than a traditional one-time closing. Out of the 50 FSBO’s 48 had no idea what it was and why it is used.

Why would a homeowner sell their home via subject to their existing mortgage?

Let’s start with the real-life story of Peggy Labate of Massachusetts. Peggy had lost her job Do tour company going to economic trouble. She then began facing the possibility of her home going into foreclosure, Putting her in a particularly dire financial situation. Peggy owed a total of $74,000 on her note for her home. This put her at an astonishing $12,000 in the hole.

She had an investor interested in a property, however, He did not actually have the full $74,000 needed for the sake of purchasing the property. Instead, the two of them worked out a compromise that would work for everyone. The compromise consisted of the following: He would purchase the property in such a way that he was subject to the existing mortgage payments per month. If agreed upon, Peggy will no longer have the monthly payment mortgage burden because the investor will be taking over her payments. Peggy then was able to make the sale work and avoid a disastrous credit hit by foreclosure. She barely had any money for food for that week, nevermind a mortgage payment. She was also able to sell the home within 2-3 business days following the agreement. YES! It was that easy.

In other parts of the country subject to the existing mortgage now has become quite popular among for sale by owners. Especially in post Covid era, selling subject to deals have increasingly spread. Especially in areas where unemployment has increased drastically.

Furthermore, most people don’t have the time in today’s world to even market the property by themselves. Additionally, they are not adapt to marketing, interviewing potential buyers, and credit analysis as Massachusetts license representatives are trained for. But why pay commission when you can simply pass your mortgage bill over to a investor who will take over the payments as well as put some money on the sellers pocket.

Another example was Hank. Hank was upside down on his mortgage because he bought right before the 2008 crash. The homes value dropped significantly but was able to almost break even in 2021. Let's look at Hanks predicament below

Home cost 2005: $320,000.00

Mortgage note: $335,000.00

POST CRASH

Home cost 2009: $245,000.00

Mortgage note Current 2009: $315,500.00

Present 2021

Home cost 2021: $285,500

Current note Balance: $295,000

Since Hank lost his job due to the COVID-19 virus, he is now finding it hard to pay for every day expenses and his mortgage. Therefore he’s in a little predicament. A friend of his told him “to suck it up and pay up to $10,000 and be done with it already”, but Hank doesn't have the $10,000 to come out of pocket. Plus, Hank is thinking “who actually sells a home to lose money?”. The plot thickens as the days go by and his bills pile up he is now three months behind on his mortgage and his banks are calling leaving messages on his voicemail. His monthly mortgage PITI is at $1,250.00. Thus, on top of all the other bills, as well as the $10,000 he will need to pay out-of-pocket if he wanted to sell, he is now behind approximately three months and four days owing a whopping $4,200.00 (includes late payments). The home is getting close to breaking even, and he has pre-permitted lot space to extend the square footage of his home. He was told by an investor he could add another 1000 to 1500 sqft to his home. Although costs would range anywhere between $68,000 to $80,000, it would bring his home value from $285,000 to $390,000. Additionally, if he were to add another a bathroom and a half in this addition, the after renovations value would be anywhere between $415,000 to $425,000. Unfortunately, Hank did not have the funds, which would probably be anywhere between $110-$120,000 to do such work, even though the value add would be $200,000 to $215,000. What is Hank going to do.

Hank is definitely stressed out!

Hank is now slipping into foreclosure and is getting unrealistic to almost cruel advice. Until one day he found an ad in his local paper from The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC.

Hank called The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC and told him his predicament. Hank began his conversation by saying, “ Look, I know you can’t help me in my situation but maybe you can give me some advice?”, the investor from The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC laughed and calmly said “ Well hello, my name is Gary, Whats yours?”. Hank forgetting his manners backed up his excitement and said with a sigh, “My apologies, Hank here”. The caller than asked Hank to fill him in on what’s going on. At the end of the conversation, the investor asked to visit the property and take a look at the permits that were once pulled by Hank that he never utilized back before the crash.

Although the permits had become null and void, the investor knew the area very well as well as the permitting process for building additions. The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC are constantly scrutinizing and investigating the housing market and its bylaws. At the end of the walkthrough the investor suprised Hank with a deal that almost had him fall to the ground. The deal, according to Hank was pure genius.

The deal looked like this:

First, Hank will transfer title to the property over to the Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC.

Instead of paying out of pocket, the investor offered him $20,000 cash in pocket for the transfer of title.

The Mass Home Buyers LLC would bring an additional $6,000.00 for closing expenses incurred and pay up the missed payments of $4,500.00 to the bank.

The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC would then own the home, however, Hank would need to leave his mortgage untouched and in place.

To lessen Hank’s anxiety, Hank and the investor called his lender on a three-way call to explain the transaction. Strangely, the lender knew the investor by the first name. Hank knew he was dealing with professionals. The investor kindly told the lender about Hanks's situation and that he offered him the title in exchange for paying off the back payments as well as take over his note as-is. The lender said, “ Ok, Gary, so you want to subject to the existing note and make payments on Mr. Hanks 30 year fixed?” The investor replied, “yes, Sir.” The lender asked, “ok, that's fine; when do you think it will transfer or be paid in full?” The investor said calmly, “I don’t know now; however, you will be the first to know when we do so.” The lender stated, “fair enough- ok, we are good, no static on this end.” Hank had heard about the dreaded due on sale clauses and was just relieved. Besides, the investor boldly asked the lender to keep the mortgage under Hank's name; however, cancel his insurance for a tenant-buyer who can be vetted additionally by the lender will be taking over. Hanks's problems were swiftly Disappearing. How does this subject to thing work anyhow?

Finally the closing date has come and looked like this.

Purchase: $25,000 transfer of deed w/ subject to $290,000 fixed 30 year mortgage payments.

Hank has money for first and last for a apartment and got his job back. Also, his credit was soaring because of all the additional payoffs by the tenant-buyer the Mass Home Buyers LLC had moved in.

Investors side

Current mortgage: $1,250 per month

The Mass Home Buyers Lease Option Payments by tenant buyer: $1,900.00 ( the areas rental median is $2,500) Cash Flow $650.00

The tenant-buyer was a carpenter who pulled a new permit and added over 1600 SF of home and an in-law and two full baths. The home soared from $290,000 to $480,000.00

After cash-out refinances, the tenant-buyer will be able to reflip, and the Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC will make over $235,000 within 1.5 years. Not bad for one deal.

Hank no longer is upside down and in debt. He also has money in the bank. The tenant-buyer has an affordable investment he will inevitably reflip. The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC made a healthy profit for saving Hank's credit from annihilation while providing inventory to one of many tenant buyers. Talk about a win/win/win heh? Subject to deal structuring is highly beneficial for sellers who are in situations like Hank, but also if they need to sell in a hurry due to a strict timeline that cannot wait for a realtor to research, market, interview, negotiate, and inevitably, sell their home.

Subject to candidates usually have three main scenarios in common:

They are facing foreclosure and/or exceptionally behind on payments

They want to repair their credit score and what better than a real estate solutions company paying their tab under their name on a monthly basis for an extended amount of time. As the buyer pays on the mortgage, the previous owner of which the note is named under, is being paid consistently. Sometimes even double paid due to the buyers motivation to pay down the balance in preparation of either a resell or a cash out finance situation.

They need to move very quickly and do not have the time to A) remote manage a realtor on the property which can result in miscommunication and other issues B) Has a new job that begins relatively soon that is out-of-state. C) A or B, however, has a significant amount of mortgage left to pay. and D) Is negative on their note and does not want to come out of pocket to pay the difference. The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC not only assists those in selling their upside-down notes but will also. Reward the seller for transferring the title. What would you rather do?

The moral of the story is, long as you’re dealing with professionals and people who know how to market with structure and don’t hide things from anybody, make deals such as a subject to or any other Creative Financial matter that much more beneficial for all. As of today, the Massachusetts homebuyers not only helps people in need like Hank but also work with retail homebuyers because they structure their deals in a way that gives both the seller what they need in regards to pricing at the same time, create a good investment for their company. REMEMBER THIS: THE SELLER OF A PROPERTY MUST ALWAYS HAVE A MORTGAGE OR ANY ALTERNATE LIEN AGAINST THE HOME TO CONDUCT A SUBJECT TO DEAL. IF THEY DON'T HAVE ANY PAYMENTS AGAINST THE HOME THAN IT WOULD BE KNOWN AS SELLER FINANCING.

#The Massachusetts Home Buyers LLC #subject to #take over mortgage #creative finance #Plymouth County FSBO’s #bristol #cheap old houses #massachusetts #worcester #flipping house #zillow homes #redfin #realtor.com #cash flow #foreclosure #moving out #rent to own #real estate #sell my house fast for cash

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missanthropicprinciple · 4 years ago

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The monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey? Nope. Finally caved and got internet at my apartment.

It’s been a long time coming. For the last few years I could not afford another monthly payment even when I was working three jobs below minimum wage for 35 hours a week. I would just use internet at school, occasionally use hotspot data in an emergency, and just live off my phone the rest of the time. (I remember literally watching most of The Witcher from my phone as I ate dinner on my couch before I got a kitchen table.) But after grad school I started using Xfinity WiFi on-demand as much as I could and while it wasn’t totally cheap, I could use it when I needed it, and not get a contract or pay for it when I would visit my mom for several days of the week. So of course, they cut off on-demand because people were using multiple email accounts to get several complimentary hours a week instead of one. Xfinity could have just cut off the complimentary passes but they just cut the whole offer list which meant that people like me who are below the U.S. poverty line had to either do without internet or pick a contract. Thankfully they offer “pay as you go,” which is kind of the same thing as on-demand just without the lower tier options. Down side is I had to fork over a one-time fee of $35 for a modem kit in addition to the $45 for the month. It is what it is.

It took me a while to even decide to do this but I just had to bite the bullet and do it so I could get my life back, whatever that is. I’ve been staying with my mom a lot since Christmas so I haven’t really been able to set it up. I was going to wait until the perfect time to get it but there is no perfect time so I just ordered it one day. If you’ve been following my personal saga (like 3 people read this haha), you’ll know that they notified me it was on its way after it had been delivered but the package wasn’t stollen so that was good. I set it up but it didn’t work so I had to phone the help line. Luckily, I got a very nice, patient lady who activated the account/internet for me. Not 100% sure what the problem was.

Now to actually get back to my place. Mom had a painter in so I’ve more or less had to be here in case I was needed, etc. No real reason at all really other than just moving things. If I had my license I could just come and go as I please, get groceries without her breathing down my neck, take stuff to my apartment, move freely back and forth. But as it is I have to be in one place or another until she can drive me. Another factor is the weather. It’s currently sub-zero up north and even though the roads are safe to drive on, if the SUV breaks down it could be dangerous. The chances of that happening are very low but my mom doesn’t want to go out in it because she’s overly concerned about driving in it. If I bring it up I’ll just get verbally abused. So I have to wait. I have to wait for the weather to “warm up” to the 30sF, and I have to wait for the perfect moment to ask to go to the bank and grocery shopping. I was hoping to get back to my place tomorrow but I don’t think that will happen.

Everything seems to be in flux at the moment. I’ve been feeling like a hamster trapped in a maze lately so I’ve been clearing out as much of the office and spare room as I can, moving books and throwing junk away. It’s a never-ending task and instead of staying positive I hear constant negative comments like, “I don’t know HOW were’e EVER going to get those rooms cleared up.” Well, there is nothing I can say to that other than it will happen, and I’m working on it. Needless to say, tensions have been running high and I’ve been near the edge of a nervous breakdown, trapped, unable to escape, my inner self retreating somewhere inside.

I haven’t been able to work on my novel draft or devote enough time to planning lessons for my one pupil. I have little concentration until after midnight when I can retreat to my room knowing I won’t be interrupted, criticized, recruited, or tormented by somewhat disturbing behavior. I’ve obsessively thrown myself into film research instead of exercising, setting homework, or watching fun films. I can’t even listen to the news on my headphones without having to pause every 30 seconds to say, “what?” as I take my earbuds out. So of course, most nights, like tonight, it’s not night at all but nearly 4am. My room is silent and I have peace and quiet; the only noise is my humidifier and my typing. I am so tired and I want to sleep but I can’t give up this time to just be. And the nights I got to bed earlier I just can’t get to sleep before 2 or 3am. I get up at noon or 1pm most days now. Being back home as destroyed what tenuous grasp on a sleep schedule I had. I used to go to bed before 1am almost every night and wake up before 9am. I mentioned this and she basically said she didn’t believe me. I am exhausted.

The explosive anger, defensiveness, cruelty, gaslighting, illogical and irrational statements, and negativity is destroying me. So I wait until I can get my routine back that I fought so hard to get in August 2020. And I know that people judge why I haven’t “moved back” to my own place (it’s not “moving back” because I never moved out of my apartment) but I have real logistical and physical limitations that prevent me from doing what I need to do. And even if I do have a fleeting chance maybe one day out of seven I can’t take it because I am too emotionally exhausted. Regardless of what some psychiatrists may tell you, emotional exhaustion is a real symptom of CPTSD and it’s debilitating. Despite all of this, I am happy I have an internet option now, and I can’t wait to get back to my routine as soon as I can!

#personal

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