#it took three months but i finished them!!

[morkleesgirl]

MDNI

Roommate - Na Jaemin

Warnings : Perv! fem! reader, rough fucking, (consent not explicitly stated) Word Count: 1.1k

It’s been three months since you’d moved into the apartment, and there was only one hiccup so far, Na Jaemin, you’re amazingly hot roommate. He’s quiet, kind and always a gentleman, but he’s also got a panty dropping smile and he’s so damned hot but so damned oblivious to it. He’s always walking around the apartment with tight sweats and those infuriating muscle tanks that show off his toned arms. Those glasses that shouldn’t be hot, but just are, and his long slender fingers that are always drumming on the counter while eating, or tapping on his thighs while the two of you enjoy movie night. Always so oblivious to the way they catch your eye. Are you obsessed, maybe, but how can you not be, when he’s so fucking sexy. 

You’re obsessed with all of those damned little things he does, and it only gets worse when you catch him watching porn You stopped by his room on the way to the laundry unit downstairs but before getting the chance to ask him if his laundry was ready for you to bring down too, you catch a glimpse of what he’s doing. He’s watching some of the roughest porn you’d ever seen, letting out obscene moans at the way the girl looks like a ragdoll as she gets thrown about and absolutely destroyed by the dick she’s getting. You can’t help but stare, mesmerized by his long thick cock, his slender pretty fingers stroking it, his honey sweet voice letting out perfect wanton moans. You need to be the one making him make those sounds, so you don’t even realize you’re touching yourself through your shorts until you’re cumming in sync with him. It’s then that you softly scurry away, the memory lingering. From that moment on you constantly try to work him up, needing to see him snap the same way the guy in his porn had so obviously snapped on the girl in the video. First you “accidentally” leave a thong in his laundry basket in exchange for a pair of his boxers. He blushingly returns them, but is confused when you feign innocence in their getting in his basket, and his missing boxers, which you know wear to touch yourself. Then you start wearing crops and sports bras in the apartment instead of your usual baggy t-shirts, loving the way his eyes linger while you’re watching a show together, or when you lean forward letting him see more of your boobs than necessary. All the while you’re taking peeks into the bathroom while he showers, and taking you’re immediately after so you can touch yourself while the bathroom still smells like his cinnamon body wash.

Finally when he’s supposed to be out with friends you slip into his boxers and one of his t-shirts and go to touch yourself in his room. You find yourself completely intoxicated by the smell of his body wash and cologne. You feel your thighs writhing at the thought of him tying you up to this very bed as you work your fingers in and out, waiting to use your vibrator until you’re closer. Looking at pictures of him just lounging around the apartment you find yourself at the brink of cumming until you hear someone clear their throat and you quickly try to hide yourself no no avail

He’s so entranced by his little perv in the sheets, bare and open, dripping all over his bed, just begging to be touched.“So this is why I’ve been missing those boxers” he says amusedly, eyes darkened and narrowed like a predator looking at prey “because my pervy little slut took them when she tried to give me her panties” he finishes, stalking closer to the bed. “Jaem, I-” “Did I tell you to speak slut” he cuts you off, asking pointedly, the degradation making your whole body heat up, pleasure coursing through you. “Then be a good little whore and get on your knees. Daddy has to teach you a lesson in privacy.” You nod your head in shame before placing yourself on your knees in front of him. He teases you, dragging his cock across your lips, smacking it against your cheek, making you more desperate by the second. “Beg for it y/n, show me how sorry you are, beg to suck me cock” he spits out at you, words having such an affect on you as you whine out pleas and whimpers. He finally has enough and thrusts into your mouth hard and without warning, throat fucking you as your eyes roll back. Throat constricting as he holds you down his cock by the base of your neck. You’re quiet sweet roommate was gone, all that left was the powerful man before you, fucking the breath out of you. As you feel his cock twitch he pulls out, leaving you dazed and breathless. You whine at the loss before feeling him scoop you up and press you face down into the mattress“I’ve been waiting so long to fuck this pretty little cunt, been waiting to fill it with my fat cock, to breed it, to watch you fall apart like the stupid little whore you are.” he whispers into your ear nipping and sucking at your neck as he forces your back to arch, ass in the air. You let out a wanton moan, begging pleading him to fuck you stupid, and that he does. Holding you into the mattress by the back of your neck, slapping your ass hard before moving to circle your clit, eliciting a screaming moan as you feel your orgasm hurtling towards you as you clench hard around his fat cock. “You’re gonna cum for me right princess, gonna cum around my cock while I pump this pretty pussy full of my cum?” He asks, thrusts becoming even harder as he hits places deep inside you, legs falling limp as you cum harder than you’ve ever come before, squirting on his cock, making a mess on his thighs and sheets. “Holy fuck princess” he moans out as he snaps his hips into you one last time cumming deep and hard at the sight of you going limp in his arms. 

After both of you re-stabilize your breathing, you finally roll onto your side to face him as he pulls you into his chest. “I finally made you snap huh?” you tease, kissing his cheek, “Careful princess, I could keep going all night if you don’t watch yourself” he warns, before pulling your lips closer to meet his for the first time. “Do your worst, daddy” you giggle into his lips, “Oh I will princess, I will” you hear before being pushed onto your back. 

[phosphorus-noodles]

hello friends. guess who is insane about their own au again (<- it's me)

made some refs of the fellas :3

(some notes under the cut <3)

au rundown in case you've never witnessed my insanity before:

empires s1 au in which oli is there and has an empire

joel + oli are childhood friends and also soulmates <3

they're a little silly and stupid and also maybe in love. but in a romeo and juliet forbidden sorta way. it's complicated

"why do the refs stop at age 17?" well uh. some Stuff happens ^^

and i have a lot more about it here on my tumblr !!

i think of them every single day. perhaps i have a small problem,

[penguinsblues]

The choice is yours.

[vargaslovinghours]

EleVeN!11!!1! (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 10½)

Fuzzy Edgar forever. I don’t remember the context now, maybe there wasn’t any to begin with haha, he’s just so cute with slightly longer hair! And upset :)

Some Diaryfic snuggles ♥ Scriabin can be so sweet to him at the worst time ah, I love Edgar’s hard on his arm and Scriabin’s pulling his hair out of his injured eye 💕

While I was very inspired by the Red Flags meme going around (we’ll get there), I was just as inspired by Mixed Messages - this exchange is so silly and them to me. He’s just trying to flirt back, you don’t have to make it harder! That’s just what Scriabin does haha

🥐 🖕 D:’

What else did you expect Scriabin to do with texting capabilities?? I’m still very enamoured with the thought of Scriabin using emojis and Edgar using emoticons - they are sort of different generations!

Here’s the Red Flags! So gd catchy, damn lol. I was specifically inspired by the X is on a date with themself edits, it was so tempting to consider a Ladyverse version as well haha. Edgar’s uncomfortable smiles were so incredibly fun hehe ♪

Y’see because with that many eyes- you get it

Edgar’s little “Or do I??” makes me laugh haha, anything to get out of this situation!

Waiter Jake ❤️💕💖💞💗 Rescue him!

Very inspired by this one specifically, he’s totally innocent! Not offputting at all! ♥

Alright well good luck with that bye. I love Edgar being menaced into continuing this date hehe ♫

Scriabin just keeping on the pressure for this date to keep going! Slight neg in “Couldn’t you have dressed up a little nicer though? ✨” pft

Brief aside with Scriabin!Edgar out drinking with my OC Mint who has very openly had a crush on the Vargases for a while now, thanks Mint

Honestly it was all just an excuse to turn him down and have Scriabin call Edgar his “landlord” haha; I was feeling nostalgic and went back to reread some old YuGiOh fics and had been so long away that I forgot that was a term used in the fandom to refer to the bodies of people the various Yamis would take over hehe ♪ It felt very fitting!

I can call him that but don’t you call him that >:(

Angy Scriabin!Edgar, the usual

Handplates re/reading doodles!! Hghgh!!! The theses of these stories of codependent relationships cut me to my very core I’ll have you know 💕 I managed to avoid falling down the rabbit hole of Handplates!Vargas but I was this close, lemme tell you. The subtle shift in phrasing changes so much ;; I love them dearly

A kind-of leftover WOY style Scriabin, since I made his hair all pointy in my first doodles - the WOY style is quite soft and round! He looks very silly hehe

Another song that is, yes, unironically in my Vargas playlist. This is a Nny song to me and you can pry it from my cold dead correct hands. That beautiful facial hair ♪

More Handplates/Vargas, this time obviously inspired by my holiday request 💕💖💞 I honestly rather like how calm Gaster seems whenever he’s in Edgar’s vicinity, he is a fairly unassuming human haha. Is it because he doesn’t laugh very often? Oh no that’s sad actually haha

I’m not done with Blank Slate Ch. 4 just yet - hopefully soon! - but this lineup stands out to me especially since I made it while rereading Handplates. Specifically after Gaster is pulled out of the Void - Gaster having to face the people he loves who have no memory of him really spoke to me in a Blank Slate way - the scenario of being able to completely start over and have never done anything to hurt your loved ones, at the expense of never having done anything to them, as far as they’re concerned, ah! It hurts so beautifully!! That’s one of the central themes I’m chasing so it was so cool to see in that context! Very inspiring ♥

So remember how in my Sims post, one Vargas family ended up with two Todds? Well what if that but actually

Twin Todd AU, just try and stop me

The saddest little twins y’ever did see ahh 💔 Having to share Shmee because there’s just the one of him! Who has a greater need :’0

I actually went and skimmed the SQUEE! comics to get a better grasp on the Casils, I’d forgotten basically everything haha. It seemed in keeping that if they could barely keep track of the one Todd, they wouldn’t bother even differentiating between two :’) Taking Todd shifts to better share the load

At least they have each other! More helpful than a stuffed bear who eats trauma? On par at least?

I also happened to catch this screenshot of the Todds gossiping about their shadow-dad, though I’m not sure who had seen him :0 By now I have found an adoption memory-loss prevention mod - thank goodness :D - but it wasn’t installed at the time! :0 Blue Todd is the Todd who’d already been the Vargases’ kid, Red Todd is newly-adopted Todd :)

Greetings in order! One of the Todds came by to scout out this strange new person

It’s a name to go by, if nothing else

Reporting back from the field, he has served his big narrative influence hehe ♥

Uh, yeah, about that- While I don’t doubt you were seeing double at times, uhm-

Surprise! Double the sons!

Only so much space in this apartment! They’re probably used to sharing a space to sleep weh, the implications of this AU are sad! I have no one to blame but myself haha

I have never been able to give up this twisted love I have for Edgar getting flustered about incredibly silly things and Scriabin chiding him with just his name haha ♥ Real twins do not delegitimize whatever the hell you two are to each other 💕

Who me? An affinity for how names shape identity and what it means to be a whole separate person? In love with this story in particular? You must be mistaken. But really, what would their name(s) be? I also love the subtle differences even just here - one Todd speaks up for the other! Dynamics ✨

1994, 2004, basically the same year innit. Scriabin is so much more on the up-and-up about the latest technology than Edgar, that old man

In which the offscreen is me lol, I was so blown away by how much more advanced the Sims 2 was from the Sims 1 ♥ Scriabin doesn’t need a box with a program in it, he has the absolute funnest toy in the world already!

And isn’t that the most important part ♪

Scriabin immediately makes himself and hooks up with every Sim he can, Edgar uncomfortable and totally not watching a~ny of the animations hehe ♪ Honestly though, the thought of Scriabin being genuinely excited to virtually get it on with any-and-every delights me haha

Look. Look, okay, look- If I could choose what to be inspired by, I would but sometimes

Obviously Scriabin would be a long Furby lol, this exchange can be summarized to “Scriabin no D:” “Scriabin yes >:D”

He’s complaining that Edgar ignoring him sleeping is boring haha

I did briefly lose my mind over how the Furbish word for “I/me/my/mine” is all the same - linguistically it makes sense, self-possessive, but in this, in their context ♥

Based on that one Wojak format - looks into the camera like “Yes. I am in your head. Insanity tracks” pfft

And it’s @jaspravex with the steel chair!! I hadn’t drawn any of them in like a month and then all of a sudden- I was 1000% not expecting to be hit with such a huge wave of inspiration but gosh and dang did this line of thought light me up. The implication! The jealousy! Wow that’s a lot all at once I wasn’t expecting ♥ Somehow these two never ended up on my shipping chart, dynamics I swear haha ✨

There’s September through February for the fourth go ‘round! Wild when I put it like that :0 Like clockwork, these lads ♪

[kitamars]

in which i take the aa-tnb pipeline and shove it into the hadron collider

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

really channeled my inner yassified!howdy today via being practically comatose all day due to Migraine, then as soon as i woke up i demolished so many tacos in one sitting. he's just like me fr

[naysaltysalmon]

I can't remember the last time I posted art on Tumblr. Anyway, here are my drawings for the 3zun 3-day weekend prompts~! 💚💙💛

Day 1: Nie Mingjue — Pastels // Insecure // there was only one bed Day 2: Lan Xichen — Earth tones // Curious // arranged marriage Day 3: Jin Guangyao — Black/white // Grateful // immortality

And then I did a piece with all of 3zun as a bonus. (I hardly do drawings with more than one character, let alone three.) The poses are referenced from this post!

[m0e-ru]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to the day my brain was literally rewired and my gender was being changed by the second SO HERES A GAS STATION SPECIAL before this joint was even a gas station in the FIRST PLACE !!!!

FUCKING FREAK

[dailyink]

6/24/24

Jamie, the first member of the band Fishbone

[dogcollarpunk]

//through gritted teeth// I'm being so Self-Organized and Time-Managing Right Now

[raventhekittycat]

it seems like a story about blur or a story about gansey but really it's a story about ronan; it's a story about grief

[pinksilvace]

JUST finished boarding my first animatic... time to do everything else...

[zaptap]

i got three houses like 3 years ago and i’m still only a few chapters into it because i hate the calendar mechanic and having to figure out how to spend my activity points most efficiently before it forces the plot along each time

like i’m not ready for engage at the moment but there better not be any fucking calendars in there or else i don’t think i’ll get it

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[ghostlywhiskey]

pen pal simon - original post

every day after work, you found yourself sat at your desk attempting to write back a response to the soldier who referred to himself as ‘ghost’. crumpled up stationary surrounded your desk space, along with different types of pens as you obsessed over your handwriting. if one letter of your penmanship looked wrong, the paper would become another ball added to the collection of half written letters that contained slightly different, if not the same, wording in response to the thank you letter from ghost.

the simple questions he asked to get to know you suddenly felt like the hardest questions to answer, as if you were being graded on the facts about yourself. was he going to find your hobbies boring? maybe your hobbies were boring the more you read your response. the easiest question to answer was regarding how long you had been doing the care packages - a few years since one of your friends had a significant other that joined the military. stories often mixed with people who received packages and cards from family members frequently, but the ones where some received little to none are the ones that made you upset. so, you had decided to explain that to ghost and it was probably the easiest response of them all to write out. not single moment did the pen leave the paper for you to collect your thoughts or how to word your answer.

but then, you continued to answer the questions he asked you, and in return you asked him similar or different ones. again, you weren’t positive he would reply this time around, but you figured you’d still return the gesture of asking him questions as well. and when you finished writing it all, reading through it god only knows how many times for errors, you finally slipped it into an envelope. this time, no ‘treats’ were included, instead you had opted to ask him if he had any favorites, that way if he did end up writing you back then you could buy him what he preferred.

and after you mailed out the letter, you pushed the thought of it to the side to try and forget about it. but, you couldn’t deny every time you arrived home and checked the mail you were secretly hoping there was a response. but then a few weeks went by and there really was no response waiting mixed in with your other mail.

then after almost two months, after a shit day at work, you didn’t even think twice as you grabbed the mail and walked into your home. going through the motions of your routine - showering, cooking dinner and anything else you had to take care of, you finally sat at the counter towards the end of the night to sort through the mail. a small card was tucked between a bunch of other trash mail, your eyes immediately recognizing the handwriting. quickly, you opened up the envelope and sure enough, that same notebook paper was tucked into it, this time three pieces of paper unfolded in your hands. 

..it’s been quite hectic over where i’m currently at, so sorry for the lack of my responding…

...i’m a bit upset of the lack of treats, it definitely beats what we have to eat sometimes.

the reason you do the packages is quite sweet. is your friends’ partner still alive? you use the past tense when you speak of them. sorry if that is rude to ask.

you read every word of the letter, not once, but twice. and he didn’t just read your response to his, he took notice of the small details. you didn’t even realize you had used the past tense, but he wasn’t wrong in his assumption either when he thought they might have passed. it was like reading a full blown conversation he had to himself in his head; the way before or after some sentences, he would write out interjections. some sentences were followed by parentheses where he made his own little comment as well about what he had just written.

again, i hope you forgive my delayed response. hope it doesn’t stop you from writing back. don’t always have the time, but promise i’ll get back to you. maybe in your next letter you can send me a picture of yourself, i think it would be nice to put a face to the name that signs off on these. i can’t do the same, but i’ll find a way to make up for that. ‘til the next letter, ghost.

and while you didn’t get started writing your response that night, you did make your way to your room with a smile on your face. excitement was already brewing about what you would say in your response and the next anticipated response he would give back, even if he did take a bit to respond.