#man id be making my paycheck for that

[jazzapples3]

Silly Game Time: Bringing back a crowd favorite! If you had to talk about something for an hour--anything at all, no matter how bizarre or niche--what subject would you choose?

Omg prepare for lesson on the silmarillion and the lord of the rings

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

On one hand im glad I dont start work until Tuesday cuz it gives me one more day to mentally prepare

But on the other hand the anticipation anxiety is killing me. I can't stop grinding my teeth. I keep having to resist the urge to bite my hands. I cant focus on anything for more than a few minutes

Ik ill calm down once it starts and I see the environment ill be working in and start training and everything. And I know HOW my routine is gonna change as far as when im gonna have to get up and when ill get to come home. But its still a change.

A very large change cuz im gonna have to get up at 6am which is not a time ive ever purposely woken up except for one time for choir in 8th grade and the next time I was supposed to I purposely lied and said we weren't gonna have a spring concert so I wouldn't have to go to it

I just keep reminding myself that I need money so I can get a dog. Having money to live is not enough motivation for me. A dog is tho. That is the goal. I want a puppy. I am going to get a puppy. But I have to do this so I can get money to get a puppy. Im just gonna repeat that to myself every time I start feeling anxious.

[transgaysex]

i butt heads with my mom on occasion but honestly kudos to her on some stuff fr fr

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - touchy touchy

modern ceo au! thinking about how miguel touches you so often around the office that a random guy decides to do something about it

You and Miguel don’t share a workplace. He’d end up being your boss anyway, and as much as you love spending time with him, it’s not good to have a partner that also gives you your paycheck. (Plus, distance can equal longing.)

Miguel constantly insist that you stay at home, and that he’d provide you with everything you could ask for but... feminism???( /j ) You have your own job conveniently down the street from Miguel’s office; it’s more of a hobby than it really is a job, but it gets you money.

The whole building knows you as “Miguel’s Wife”; you visit often. Sometimes your visits are a surprise, others it’s when you have nothing to do so you just hang by Miguel all day. You’re blessed with free food from the cafeteria, plus the gym. It’s fun to watch Miguel work out. 

Though, today was... funny.

Whenever Miguel thinks you guys are alone, he’s touchy. However, to Miguel, “alone” is just being in a room with less than 6 people in it. So, needless to say, his employees have seen things. 

You’re just so pretty, so cute to him, he can’t help but just worm his way over to you whenever in sight. 

Things along the lines of kisses, waist grabbing, thigh grabbing, hugs, back hugs, and even ass-slapping are a common sight to see when you’re around the office. Miguel truly, genuinely believes that he’s being sly, but that’s probably because everyone’s too scared/nice to say anything about it. Perks of being a CEO.

No one really tells the new recruits about it though, it’s just a you-see-it-and-get-used-to-it type of thing. 

So imagine your surprise when someone in the office pulls you aside one day and asks if Miguel is sexually assaulting you. 

Miguel’s been lingering his hands all over you today in particular, boldly sliding his big hand down towards your ass. You elbow him a little when he gets too close though, especially around a few people. 

“¿Por favor, querida?“ He whines, slithering his hand back onto you. 

“Oh my gosh, Miguel, no. Wait until we’re out of work.“

All is well, but Miguel has to tend to a few things, so you take it upon yourself to take a break at the cafeteria. Might as well bring him a drink while you’re at it.

Halfway through your walk there, some guy you’ve seen around taps on your shoulder and pulls you aside. He’s relatively young, has this assertive look to him. Among the quirky pins on his shirt pocket, you find an ID card labeled “INTERN.”

The worry on his own face makes you a little anxious. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?“ He asks, meeting his eyes with yours. He looks serious, peering from left to right as if a secret was being exchanged. 

“Uh- yeah, what do you mean?“

His voice is low, almost a whisper. “Girl, I’ve seen Miguel grope you... do you want me to call the police? I have a video right here as pr-“

A  gust of relief washes over you, and you almost start to laugh. You watch as the guy starts to pull up his phone, before you stop him. 

“Oh, no no no, it’s okay!“ You exclaim. “Miguel’s my husband, he’s just clingy!“

The man raises an eyebrow, concern lacing his voice. “You aren’t just saying that, right? Like, you’re really okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry. If he was actually bothering me, then I’d tell him.“ You chuckle, just to ease up the serious air a little bit. 

“Ah, well if you say so... If anything happens, just let me know.“ He says. 

“Yeah, thank you for the concern, though.“ You smile, and he smiles back, walking away around the corner where you assume he came from. 

With a little laugh, you continue your walk towards the cafeteria, thinking deeply about the interaction. It might be time for you to tell Miguel to stop touching you often around the office, as much as you enjoy it. He’d hate despise it though. 

If it weren’t for you being around so often, work life might not be as pleasant for his employees. You don’t think Miguel truly notices, but he starts getting huffy and puffy when you aren’t around to see him; people get a little more scared of him when he has this scowl on his face. 

“Who was that?“

You violently flinch, yelping out loud. In one swift motion, you swerve around, your heartbeat only easing down when you realize it’s just Miguel. 

“Miguel, honey, you gotta stop scaring me.“

“...Sorry. Who was that?“ He asks, obvious curiosity in his voice. Almost like it was muscle memory, he slips both hands onto your sides, reminding you of the topic at hand. (literally lmao)

“Just some guy... you know what he asked me, though?“

“If it was on a date he’s getting fired.“ Miguel promises darkly, squeezing at the fat of your sides. 

“No, Miguel. He asked if you were assaulting me. Even asked me if he wanted me to call the police.“

“Assaulting?“

“Yeah, because you keep on doing things like this-“ You place your hands on his. “- to me every time I visit!“

Like a guilty puppy, Miguel pouts to the side, reluctantly slipping his hands away from you. It takes you everything not to laugh at him as he grumbles to himself, that signature scowl building onto his face. 

“It’s fine, Miguel. You can still touch me. Just tone it down a bit when we’re around people, yeah?“

Miguel nods, slowly inching his fingers towards your hands. “Yeah. M’sorry.”

“Miguel, it’s fine. It’s not like I hate it, it might just be uncomfortable for your employees.“

Miguel sighs, dipping down his head to rest on your shoulder. He catches a whiff of your body wash, sweet and comforting. You giggle, a sound that Miguel would kill to hear for everyday of his life. You slide your own hands over onto his broad back, tracing your fingers against the muscle through his shirt. 

“I just... I think I love you too much.“ He mumbles, and your ears almost strain to hear it. 

“Awh, you know I love you too.“ You sweetly reply, squeezing him into a tight hug. He’s so darling, compressing you tight against him. 

“Just let me have this, and I’ll leave you be for a bit, hm?“ Miguel mutters into your ear, indulgently smoothing his big hands over your little back. Chills run up your spine when he presses a smooch to your ear. 

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that’ll last...“ You chuckle, letting him do what he wants for the time being. 

It takes Miguel longer than he really should to let you go, adoration clearly written on his face as he detaches his arms from you. 

“You wanna grab coffee with me before you have to go back?“ You ask, beaming at Miguel with a natural smile. 

Miguel doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You break off into a walk through the hallway, and Miguel has to remind himself every minute or so to keep his hands off. 

. . .

It didn’t work. 

Already in line for coffee, Miguel’s chin rests on top of your head, acting as if the previous conversation was entirely wiped clean from his memory. 

You sigh, knowingly speaking to the barista as if you didn’t have a 6′9 CEO strapped to your back like a koala. 

“Baby, what did we say?“

“Sorry...“

miguel is 6′9 because i said so and because of this tiktok

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[coqhee]

A DATE FOR YOU! ♡ ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE

✷ what types of dates enhypen hyung line would take you on! 〟read maknae line here

bf! enha hyung line x gn!reader︲fluff, romance︲pet names, grammar errors.︲1000 / more

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 would take you on very romantic dates in which he would always be touchy with you. whether that’s having his hand resting on your waist, or hand in hand, he wants to be near you at all times. he wouldn’t really care where the date is, but so long as he can be near you. i can picture him taking you to an aquarium to see all sorts of aquatic life.

“hee! look at the cute shark swimming our way!” you exclaimed with delight, amazed at how smoothly the shark seemed to glide through the water with ease. 

heeseung watched as your eyes filled with joy just simply watching animals go about their life. he hummed with content seeing you light up at the marine life surrounding you. 

he could honestly care less about the shark, all he could focus on was your hand in his giving him a tight squeeze of affection.

“doll, you think that shark is cuter than me?” he asked jokingly to see your expression. you turned to him giggling at the silly question your boyfriend had just asked. 

���it might be, id have to do some very long thinking,” you teased to your boyfriend. he made a facial expression of pretend hurt before putting on his famous smirk.

before you could turn back to admire the shark, he gently held your chin in his hand and pulled you in for a warm and alluring kiss. his lips felt soft and familiar against yours. his other hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. just as you wanted more, he pulled away.

“bet the shark can’t do that huh,” he quipped holding that same smirk back at you, leaving you a flustered mess as you felt a shade of rose rise to your cheeks. this man never failed to give you an insane amount of butterflies.

“i suppose you’re cuter,” you give in, as a smile of pride appears onto his face. 

other members under the cut!

─── ♡ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 would definitely take you on more classy dates. hes a sucker for a nice candlelit dinner with the love of his life. not being too big of a fan of public affection i can see that he would love to spoil you with expensive gifts so taking you shopping right after dinner wouldnt surprise me in the slightest. 

“thank you for the dinner jay, i can pay you back once i get my next paycheck,” you thanked graciously. truth be told, your next paycheck (or two) for that matter would not be able to cover the cost of your dinner alone, but hey you can always wish.

this was jays doing of course, he loved to take you out to dine at fancy restaurants, this place being no exception.

“dont even worry about it baby. you know i love spoiling you anytime i get the chance. let me be your wallet,” he responded back with a smile, patting your head. 

he held his hand out offering to take your tote bag to which you declined initially. he insisted on you not needing to carry your bag to which you reluctantly agreed to him carrying as long as he would let you pay for whatever else you bought in the mall. 

however he knew he wouldnt let that happen on his watch anyways.  ─── ♡

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 would love to take you on a fun and exhilarating date. there was never a dull point in your relationship with him, not just that though. he always makes sure to put your enjoyment first, and does small hand squeezes to make sure you’re okay and having fun. taking all of that into account, he would totally take you on a carnival date and try to win you the biggest plushies ever, no matter how many tries it takes.

“aww that cat plush is so adorable!” you exclaimed walking past a carnival game stall. you pointed towards the plush causing jake to look over. 

he thought for a moment and you could see the gears turning in his head.

“well its your lucky day, cause im about to win that for you angel,” he smiled with sincerity. you could tell he was down to empty his wallets if that meant getting you that plush.

he gave you a small kiss on your forehead and watched as you giggled at the feeling. you looked up to see your boyfriend wink before walking over to the stall greeting the worker.

after a short 10 minutes, you watched as he whipped around in excitement, holding the plush in hand up to you. butterflies erupted in your stomach seeing him hold the biggest grin ever as he handed you the plush.

“anything for you baby,”

─── ♡

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 would love to keep you close and is a big fan of physical touch, so any date involving being in close proximity of you is a win in his book. of course he want to take you ice skating. however, not wanting you to slip and fall like you did last time, hed opt for a cute date where you can walk around, such as long walks on beach!

“baby let’s get some cute pictures together with the sunset in the background!” you shouted to your boyfriend, pulling him forward towards the water.

“here, let me hold the phone,” he offered extending the hand that wasn’t on your waist out to your hand. you gladly let him take the phone to take some cute selfies with the beach as well as individual ones.

“one last photo then we can get dinner, okay hoonie?” you reassured with a comfortable smile on your face as you posed for the camera.

“whatever you want baby,” he said smiling, holding the phone out to take the photo for you. he grinned like an idiot just watching you enjoy yourself, although he didn’t mind being a lovesick fool for you.

you ran to him with excitement to see the photos, pleased with the outcome. you soon found yourself tired, the long walk being simply too long.

“getting tired?” sunghoon asked gently pausing down to look at you. you nodded, then looked inwards to continue walking

all of a sudden he swept you off your feet and you found yourself being held bridal style by him. you weren’t complaining though, less walking for you and he seemed more than happy to take the weight off your feet.

he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your lips and smiled pulling away.

“love you baby”

─── ♡

a/n. id be lying if i said i didn’t want my future bf (heeseung) to take me on these dates 😓😓 maknae line coming soon!

@ coqhee 2024. all rights reserved

[luvrrgirl444]

chapter 21: would u rather ft eren

IRL, INSTAGRAM!

“yo, wassup guys!” connie screamed into the camera. he was sitting in the passenger seat of jean’s car, as usual.

“today we’re back in the car-”

“-my car” jean interrupted.

you, connie and sasha all rolled your eyes.

“anyway, we’re back in jean’s car for would you rather part two, and we’ve got a not so special guest”

“you fucking cunt!” eren shouted from the backseat. he was sat behind connie, with his arm around you. you were sat in between him and sasha. connie mocked eren and flipped him off.

you rolled your eyes. “as this dumbass was saying, today we’re here with eren. aka photography guy. aka that one hot drummer. aka-.”

“bro can you thirst for him on twitter and not in the car.” connie said, gagging.

“not even thirsting, just being real.” you shrugged, making eren chuckle.

“someone spay this motherfucker.”

“shut the fuck up, we didn’t even mention what we’re eating today.” jean interrupted, once again. “sash?”

“today, we’re eating chick-fil-a! because eren’s never had it. allegedly.”

“allegedly?” he questioned.

“yes. anyway, we’ll see you when we get the goods.” sasha said, smiling.

🫧

“WE GOT THE FUCKING GOODS” sasha screamed. “now, we’re gonna get the questions and get this shit started.”

jean pulled out his phone and went into instagram to find the questions.

“alright. would you rather be hot and stupid or ugly and intelligent?”

“hot and stupid” connie responded. “i already am.” he smiled.

“delusional ass” jean replied.

“y’all, please stop gassing connie’s ugly ass up.” you said.

“y’all not funny.” he rolled his eyes.

“ugly and intelligent is obviously the right choice.”eren said.

“definitely.”

“DICKRIDER” connie shouted.

“bitch shut up. as i was saying, those scientist paychecks are heavy. if i’m getting paid millions, i wouldn’t give a fuck about how i looked.” you agreed.

“bitch think she mariah the scientist.”

you rolled your eyes and pulled connie’s ear. “you want me to beat your ass so bad.”

“hot and stupid. i could literally get a modeling job and i’d be rich too.” sasha argued, before taking a sip of her milkshake.

“okay, thats valid.” jean said. “nobody wants to be fucking stupid tho.”

“id rather be stupid than ugly.” connie piped in.

“you’re already both tho?” you said, making everyone giggle, except for connie.

“imma need you to choke on that chicken.”

“moving on.”

“would you rather be bald or have no teeth.” jean read out. “bald. no hesitation.”

“definitely bald, i could literally just wear wigs and nobody would know. those human hair wigs go crazy.” you said.

“being bald is crazy. i’m having no teeth and getting dentures.”

“connie, you’re literally one shave away from being bald” sasha told him. “i’m going bald too, i need my teeth.”

“my hair is my best feature. i’m getting dentures with connie.” eren said.

“my motherfucking man!” connie shouted and dapped eren up.

“you two are fucking insane.” jean grimaced.

🫧

you guys did about 5 more would you rathers before ending the video.

“thats all for today guys, hope you enjoyed us screaming like children! see you in the next video!”

the recording ended there. a black screen then followed, with the question “would you rather choke and die or subscribe to bigcheese4000?” on it.

liked by lifearlert, mikasackerman & 456,777 others

👤 jaegerbomb

bigcheese4000 new video ft eren out now run it up 🔥🔥🔥🔥

comments

jaegerbomb CONNIE WTF IS THIS

⤷ user220 the way he instantly knew it was connie ECVEEVHWHW

jaegerbomb ugly picture n i still look better than you @conman69

⤷ conman69 WOAH???????

⤷ planetyn CLOCK HIS TEA BAE

⤷ bigcheeseluvr4 STOP I LOVE THEM

sashluvsfood chick fil a 🤤

⤷ horseface fatass

user111 eren’s arm around y/n??? IM SCREAMING

user2020 i need jean

⤷ jeansbbygirl333 so bad

hotgirlsloveyn WE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

planetyn the tattoos im screaming

⤷ user20 “someone spay this mf”

user500 new bigcheese video with EREN???? ABOUT DAMN TIME

view 43.2k others..

🫧

- the way i’ve been neglecting my og series omg..

taglist <3 : @greeniegreengreen @bakuhoes-bxtch @itzgabz22 @princess-jaeger @marsandsaturn @violenthots @roses-arerosies @conniesbbymama @llovergirlll @iheartamajiki @clipperlighter @liliorsstuff-blog @hoohoohope @akvrae @rinslutz @miniaturelunar @sheluvzeren @shigamiryuk @chamomilespetal @booistoleyou @asp7n @heartz444anna @thatartistshar0n @vintagexparker @tsukkisukkii @venusinx @seeingivy @cyberkitty1 @anitatvd @blamemef0rit @crvzy-fujoshi

[destroymeinherz]

The Party

A little while back someone posted about a fantasy of being passed around a stethoscope party, with different people listening to their heart. I don’t remember who did so if it was you, I hope you like this. It sparked creativity,

I could continue if anyone wants another part. But I wanted to do the basic idea.

The Party

I’d just signed with a modeling agency. It wasn’t the most exclusive, sometimes the jobs weren’t exactly what I hoped but college was expensive, so I took what I could. How bad could it be? It’s not like I planned to run for office or something.

My agent called me after classes one afternoon asking if I’d be interested in a gig that was more unconventional. After a few basic questions for my safety, nothing seemed too offensive even if it was secretive, and a rep from the agency would be there in case of trouble, I decided to take it.

Friday night I arrived at a big mansion just outside the city. From the looks of it this was old money, probably descendants of oil barons and railway tycoons. Which meant the paycheck would be huge. They’d promised a large payout for anyone who stayed til midnight.

I was let into a large foyer and usher back to a small hallway to a butlers parlor. A woman checked my ID, checked my name off a list and then looked me over.

“You will be required to wear one of two outfits tonight,” She instructed, pulling two hangers off a rack of clothes. “Black is standard, you are willing to do anything that would be clothes on. Call it PG-13.”

She held up a black Herve Luger bandage dress for emphasis. Then in her other hand, she held up a red one nearly identical to the former.

“Red,” She continued. “You are open to sexual behavior, and by wearing red you are giving consent to sexual advance,”

Well, I was single and I was never a prude, so I took the red. Might as well have a bit of fun. Once I accepted my color choice, she handed me an iPad with a waiver basically stating that I would take proper precautions, assert myself and under no circumstances attempt to contact anyone I met here after the event. I would ask for aid if I felt unsafe and leave without a scene. If I did not make it to midnight, I’d be compensated $200 per hour worked.

I shrugged and signed. She then held back a curtain for me to change in a small closet. I slipped inside, squeezed into the dress and as I was ushered to a door she fit me with a bracelet.

“If you need out, press the red button. Security will extract you.” She informed. “Are you ready?”

I blinked. Extracted? My heart started to pound, suddenly feeling crushed by the tight dress. What did I get myself into. But… the money was clouding my judgement. So I nodded, and the door opened. Once I cleared the threshold, it closed behind me.

Just walk around. Be eye candy. That was my only instruction. So that is what I did.

The room was a parlor, antique and dimly lit. It was full of golds and deep rich red textiles, dark wood and gold finishes. Old leather bound editions of classic literature adorned the bookshelves. I felt like I’d gone back in time. Or I was in a vampire’s house. My heart thudded at the thought.

The room was also full of people, in fine clothes, expensive tuxes and dresses. All of them wore masks like a masquerade. As I started to work through the crowd they watched me, with hungry eyes. Maybe I was in a vampire’s den. I was about to be dinner. There were a few other girls dressed in the red or black, varying heights and hair colors and skin tones.

I swallowed and tried to will my poor heart to stop trying to escape my chest. Until finally, a man approached me.

“Well, aren’t you lovely,” He said, holding out his hand.

I took his hand, and he brought it to his lips. He then moved his fingers down my wrist, stopping to feel my pulse. He offered him a soft smile. Then, he nodded before he motioned a waiter over.

The waiter came with a silver cloche, removing the dome top and extending the tray to the man. But there wasn’t food. It was a line of various stethoscopes. His fingers danced along them as he made his selection, a red tube that matched my dress.

He waved the man off, then examined it before placing the buds in his ears.

“Now, deep breath for me. Like a doctor’s office.” He said as he placed the diaphragm on my chest,

I was surprised, but I did as he asked, breathing in deeply and feeling my heart kick in my chest. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

He must have enjoyed the sound of my heart because he moved the diaphragm around my chest, smiling to himself and eventually he stopped. He listened for a long time, and even behind a mask I could see his eyes were closed.

I blushed. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

Finally, he opened his eyes and moved the diaphragm away. He took the ear pieces out and looked around. Then he must have seen who he needed, because he waved to someone.

“You have a perfect heart, my dear.” He said.

“Uh, thanks…” I replied.

Another man approached, he also had a stethoscope. He looked to the first man oblivious to me and waited for why he’d been called over.

“I think she’s the one. Take a listen.”

The new man finally looked at me. I smiled at him but he simply leaned in with his own stethoscope and listened to my heart. I took a deep breath like I had before.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

“I think you’re right,” He replied. “Take her in, I’ll grab the others.”

The others? I blinked in surprise. Is this all it was? A bunch of cosplayers listening to my heart for a few hours? That didn’t seem so bad. Even if they wanted to listen to it during sex or something. That was actually, kinda hot.

“Come with me,” The first man said.

I nodded as he took my hand again. This time he lead me down another hallway to a different room. He opened the door and brought me in, then closed it behind me. It was more of a sitting room with a beautiful chaise in the center, raised up on a platform.

I recognized some medical equipment from various movies or doctors visits. Nothing seemed too concerning.

“Now, lay down on the chaise,” He instructed. “You may stay clothed for now. But do remove your shoes as to not damage the upholstery.”

I did as he asked. Once I was settled, he returned to my side. He brought the steth out again and gently placed it on my chest. He let out a content sigh as he listened to my heart pound.

As he listened, others started to fill the room. They lined up behind him. I had never expected anything like this. Just lay here and let them hear my heart beat.

“Before we continue, could I get you anything? Water, soda, wine?”

I smiled. “What would you like me to have?”

“Oh you are cheeky.” He grinned. “Perhaps a little caffeine, to stimulate you. What does everyone think?”

There was a nod of agreement from the group and some muttering of approval. The first man smiled and had one of the caterers being me a soda can on a platter with a straw beside it.

“Go ahead and open it, then use the straw to limit your movement to drink.” He instructed.

I did as he asked. Once the can was open and the straw was in, in leaned over to the table where it sat and drank a few gulps. As I did, the man placed the diaphragm on my chest again.

He closed his eyes, listening and seemingly very content with the sound. Finally he opened them, took my hand and kissed the back of it. He stepped aside and the next person in line stepped up.

There was no clock in the room but it felt like time slowed in this room. Each person took their turn stepping up to my seat and just listening to my heartbeat. Some had me drink the soda, some had me lay down, some had me sit and stand quickly. I’d stand there and pant through running in place and jumping jacks in a too tight dress, as they listened to my heart’s reaction and then recovery.

Ba-dumpba-dumpba-dumpba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I had to admit, this was fun.

The last person was a woman, she couldn’t have been much older than me. She seemed more keen then the men had. Her eyes were bright behind her mask. She took a deep breath as her gold and white stethoscope settled on my chest.

“My… your heart… it’s by far one of the loveliest I’ve heard.” She said to me, her voice was lustful. “May I rest my head on your chest? Hear it directly with my ear?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.” I replied.

“Would you like to hear your heart while I do?” She removed the stethoscope and offered it.

The people in the room all watched, eager to see how I would respond. Well, why not? If it made them happy it was my job tonight. I don’t think I’d ever heard my heartbeat before, not like this anyway.

“Okay. Sure” I replied with a smile.

That was the right answer as she grinned with excitement and placed the ear pieces in my ears. Then she placed the diaphragm down on my skin and rested her ear next to it.

I inhaled as I had before and my head filled with the rhythmic thumping they’d all been indulging in for the last few hours.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I closed my own eyes and lost myself in the sound. Maybe I should come to these parties more often. Hearing the steady beat, knowing it was mine… that was intoxicating.

“Do you like it?” She asked.

“Yeah. I think I get the vibe.” I responded.

“Are you ready to try something a little more interesting?” The first man asked, approaching me slowly. “You can refuse any of the requests, we won’t take offense or change your compensation. These would be granting special requests.”

The stethoscope was removed from my ears and I almost whined about it. I liked hearing my heart, understanding what they were hearing. What they enjoyed that brought me here.

“Sure,” I said. “What do you have in mind?”

End?

[itgomyway]

why you already have your “desires” ♡

non dualism means there’s no duality in your world. theres no other force at play here. it is just you. everything that manifest into your reality is as real as you let it become. your fingernails being painted vs not painted is up to the observer; you.

you cannot keep letting your senses dictate what you have. not now not ever not even when it seems like they align exact with what you want. these senses are always misleading. i have money but its not physically touching my hand. does this mean i dont have it?

for example. more than half of you are manifesting a relationship (which is 100% OKAY. never let anybody make you feel bad for it). however, since you know about non dualism, you know that everything is consciousness meaning everything is you. this includes your sp.

when ppl say your relationship always reflects how you feel about yourself THIS IS TRUE because it is just you. everything is you. my boyfriend and how he treats me is a reflection of how i view myself. ill give you an example:

when i first met him i wanted someone who would always be there for me and always want to take care of me. and he showed me that. but due to my ptsd, i used to have episodes where id push him away and believe he didnt rlly like me or want me. we spoke less and he gave me my space and it used to upset me and id be confused until one day he did smth nice for me and when i said thank u he thanked me for “letting him love me”. this was months ago so i didnt think ab it much at the time but i literally was not letting him.

he had no choice but to follow my rules. he had no choice but to present the way i assumed he would and he directly told me this what does this have to do with non dualism? like i said, everything is me. theres no outside force doing something to me, it is just me.

and there is no separation involved. there’s no imagination that has to reflect to the real world theres no 3d conforming to the 4d and there. is. no. waiting. this has nothing to do with time. time is a concept the ego (you) created to better comprehend your senses (also you)

so when i tell u whatever u “desire” is yours, IS YOURS. the little voice in the back of your head telling you to think logical tell them to shut up because logic is another ego-centered term. the ego (who is you!) was created to protect your body. but you are not just your body.

you are pure consciousness. you are everything even what it is you desire. desiring doesnt exist when you are already everything you desire. you want that man? then hes yours babes. you want a fat paycheck? then its yours

“but i say that and then i check my bank account and-“ aht aht. what did i just tell you? stop leading your understanding with misleading senses. there is no separation from what you want and want you dont want because everything is inherently neutral in the first place.

theres no différence between the number in your bank account and the number “in your head”. the bank account and number arent even real in the first place so why do you care? be fucking free from anything you have once deemed “physical” therefore real. cuz none of it is babygirl

if you ever find yourself not believing bc you dont “see it” then remind yourself that you’re still looking at it from a point of duality which is wasting your time because you are one ☝️

© itgomyway

[tinytinyblogs]

Is it hate or love?

Hate or love? Their mixed signals are driving you crazy.

(Ot8 skz reaction, non-idol, lil angst)

Hyung line Maknae line

💬I genuinely enjoy this one; it brings a smile to my face as I write. However, I must admit my mind is currently devoid of any ideas. If you have any requests, feel free to suggest, whether it's a one-shot or a reaction.

Stray kids masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

The fluorescent lights buzzed like angry hornets, each flicker echoing the storm brewing within you. Another mountain of paperwork, another impossible deadline, another unwanted gift from Chan, the CEO who seemed to thrive on your suffering. He was an enigma, admired by the masses, yet your tormentor in disguise. You were done. Done with the endless demands, the relentless pressure, the suffocating feeling of being his personal pack mule. It was always you, drowning in work while others sat idle, their days filled with gossip and coffee breaks. Sleep was a luxury you barely remembered, your nights consumed by spreadsheets and reports. Enough. With a growl that surprised even yourself, you rose from your desk, sanity taking flight. His office, usually a sterile haven of power, became your target. No meek knock, no announcement. You barged in, the door slamming shut with a finality that mirrored the one building inside you. Chan, caught mid-keystroke, his gaze flew up, meeting yours. You held his stare, your emotions a tightly packed bomb, ready to detonate. "Shouldn't you knock?" His voice was a smooth, practiced drawl, but the surprise in his eyes was genuine.

But a voice, surprisingly gentle, stopped you in your tracks. "No," it said, and you whirled around to find Chan still seated, his gaze fixed on you. He seemed unperturbed by your outburst, his body radiating an unexpected stillness. "I wouldn't find another employee," he continued, his words a quiet counterpoint to the storm raging within you. Your questioning look, a blend of disbelief and lingering anger, seemed to crack his facade just a bit. "You're not quitting," he said, his voice losing its usual edge. "Take a week. Rest. Come back." You scoffed, frustration twisting your gut. "Chan, I'm done. All of it. What do you even want from me?" He leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Attention," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "Yours." The revelation hit you like a punch to the solar plexus. Attention? him, the man who seemed to thrive on stoicism and distance? "Wanted the attention you give everyone," he elaborated, his voice laced with a vulnerability you'd never heard before. "But no matter what I did, your eyes were always elsewhere." He glanced at his watch, a flicker of something akin to regret crossing his face. "Go home, rest. I'll visit you after I finish my work today. We can…talk about it."

You slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the tense silence. Your legs took two determined steps forward, each one a declaration of your rebellion. "Yeah, I should," you spat, your voice raw with pent-up frustration. "But I'm done with formalities, Chan. Done with playing your game." He pushed his chair back, his full attention on you now. "The file, I presume?" You scoffed. "You know me too well, don't you? Always up to your neck in demands, yet blind to the idleness around you. I work myself to the bone, barely see the sun, while others twiddle their thumbs and collect paychecks." Your voice, once a whisper of resentment, now roared with righteous anger. You ripped the employee ID card from your neck, a tangible symbol of your servitude. "I'm done, Chan," you declared, flinging the card to the floor, its plastic clatter a punctuation mark on your declaration of freedom. "Done being your slave. Done with this charade. This isn't work, it's a prison, and I refuse to be your inmate any longer." The ID card's clatter echoed in the room, a final punctuation mark on your fiery declaration. "Find someone else to do your dirty work with a smile," you hissed, turning on your heel, ready to escape the suffocating confines of his office.

Minho

As the creak of the nursery door echoed through the silent house, your eyes adjusted to the dim light, revealing Minho slumped on the bed. A fresh gash marred his usually stoic face, sending a wave of concern and exasperation washing over you. You tossed your untied hair back with a frustrated sigh, the loose strands framing your worried expression. "Are you out of your mind?" your voice was sharp, laced with disbelief as you approached him. Minho remained silent, his gaze distant, refusing to meet yours. It was oddly endearing, this uncharacteristic vulnerability, but the anger at his recklessness still burned inside you. "It's kinda fun to hear you fight because of me, isn't it, Minho?" you quipped, your eyes scanning the room for a first-aid kit. It stood sentinel beside him, a silent witness to his recent skirmish. "Since when do you care if anyone mocks me?" you challenged, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Weren't you the one who started it all?" Your words hung heavy in the air, accusation mingled with confusion. As you leaned in, gently tending to his injury, the air crackled with unspoken emotions. Minho, once an impenetrable fortress, seemed to soften under your touch, his eyes holding a depth you'd never witnessed before.

"I never start anything," he finally rasped, his voice rough with unspoken apologies. "I never made fun of you in front of anyone. I wouldn't." His denial hung in the air, tinged with desperation. You looked up, meeting his gaze, his eyes seeking yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "Aren't they your friends?" you asked, your voice barely above a breath. "Didn't they just repeat the gossip you started?" Minho let out a heavy sigh, his hand reaching out to grasp yours, stopping your ministrations. His touch sent a jolt through you, and you instinctively looked up, drawn into the maelstrom of emotions swirling in his eyes. This simple gesture, this unexpected vulnerability, opened a crack in the facade he'd carefully constructed. And in that small opening, you glimpsed a truth that threatened to rewrite everything you thought you knew about Minho. What lay beneath the surface? Regret? Guilt? Something more? The tension in the room hummed like a live wire, charged with unspoken words and the weight of shared secrets. The air, thick with anticipation, waited for the next move, the next truth to break through the silence.

The air between you and Minho crackled with tension, as thick as the silence. His grip on your hand was like a vise, holding you captive in this charged space. "They're my classmates," he finally spoke, his voice low and tight, "but that doesn't mean they blindly follow my every word. Don't paint me as some villain, spewing lies and manipulating them. Stop assuming the worst." You yearned to pull away, to break free from his hold, but the intensity in his eyes pinned you in place. "Because you always act like one, Minho!" you countered, your voice rising in frustration. "This hostility, this constant antagonism toward me – why? Why do you harbor such animosity?" His gaze, once defiant, softened, a flash of pain flickered across his face. "Who said I hate you?" His voice echoed in the quiet room, bouncing off the walls, almost drowning out the distant school bell. "If I truly hated you, wouldn't these wounds be scars on someone else's face? Wouldn't I be far away from you, causing trouble elsewhere?" He looked at you, his eyes raw and searching. "No one," he continued, his voice dropping back to a whisper, "ever told me those things about you. Open your eyes, Y/N," he gestured to his injury, "see past the persona you've built for me. I'm not the monster you think I am."

Changbin

The lunch bell clanged through the bustling cafeteria, a jarring contrast to the turmoil brewing within you. The midday sun, streaming through the glass walls, felt like an unwelcomed spotlight on your skin, highlighting the insecurities the toxic whispers had planted. Your fingers trembled as you checked your watch, the numbers mocking your empty stomach. Lunch should be a joyous break, a chance to refuel and recharge, but the thought of food tasted like ash in your mouth. Every bite felt like a betrayal against the chorus of taunts echoing in your head, the unsolicited advice on your weight a constant weight on your chest. "What's with you?" a voice cut through your misery. Changbin, your perpetual shadow, loomed over you, his presence as unwelcome as the stale cafeteria air. "Forgot your lunch money? Or just another dramatic attempt at starvation?" His words were laced with a familiar bite, designed to prick at the raw nerve endings of your insecurities. You clenched your fists, the urge to lash back crackling in your veins. But you knew the futility of engaging, of feeding the flames of his negativity. "Go away," you muttered, your voice a mere whisper against the cacophony of laughter and chatter.

You turned your gaze towards the window, seeking solace in the blur of the bustling city below. The endless stream of people, each with their own stories, offered a strange comfort, a reminder that you weren't alone in this struggle. Changbin, however, remained a persistent fly in your ointment. "Eat something, you idiot," he rasped, his voice a touch softer than usual. "I don't want to lug your unconscious body to the nurse again." A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you met his gaze, his untouched lunch sitting accusingly between you. "Don't tell me you're on a diet, Y/N?" his voice was laced with concern, but it grated on your already frayed nerves. "Yeah, well, they keep reminding me how fat and ugly I am," you spat, bitterness clinging to your words like smoke. "Satisfied now? Go eat your lunch somewhere else." He didn't move, his stillness a stark contrast to your turmoil. Instead, he rose from his chair, his gaze unwavering. To your surprise, he didn't leave. Instead, he returned moments later with another lunch set, placing it gently in front of you. "Sometimes, you can be unbelievable," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Just eat whatever you want and be happy. Why let their words dictate your joy?" His words hung in the air, a gentle challenge to the self-imposed prison you'd built around your insecurities.

You looked at the food, the vibrant colors and inviting aromas a stark contrast to the darkness in your mind. The tension in the air had softened, replaced by something unexpected - a fragile truce. He sat across from you, his lunch forgotten as he focused on yours. "Beside," he mumbled, eyes glued to the colourful mountain of food on your plate, "you totally look fine in my eyes." His words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual barbs and banter that defined your dynamic. You, the prickly defender, and him, the relentless challenger, had somehow stumbled into an unfamiliar territory - one where kindness was laced with gruffness, and concern masked by playful threats. It felt surreal, like waking up in a parallel universe where the sun rose in the west and Changbin, of all people, was complimenting your looks. "Beautiful as always," he added, his gaze meeting yours, a flicker of something... new... dancing in his eyes. It was a look devoid of mockery, devoid of the usual cynicism, and it made your stomach do a strange somersault. He waited, a silent encouragement for you to dig in. You hesitated, the familiar spoon feeling heavy in your hand. "If you skip a meal again, I'm not kidding, I'll make sure you eat something myself."

Hyunjin

The morning light, usually a welcome friend, felt like a harsh spotlight on your throbbing head. The ache in your body was a symphony of protests, each muscle groaning its disapproval at the mere thought of movement. A groggy groan escaped your lips as you tumbled out of bed, the world tilting precariously before righting itself. The fridge, however, refused to cooperate. Its barren shelves mocked your rumbling stomach, a cruel reminder of your impending grocery trip. You winced, the effort of just standing feeling like a Herculean feat. Then, like a bad penny, he materialized. Hwang Hyunjin, your resident thorn in the side, stood there, a smirk playing on his lips. "You look dead," he chirped, his voice somehow grating on your already frayed nerves. Ignoring him, you focused on putting one foot in front of the other, each step a battle against the leaden weight of your body. Hyunjin, however, wasn't done. A hand, surprisingly cool against your burning forehead, stopped you in your tracks.

"Street walking with a fever? Not your brightest move, dumbass," he drawled, his voice laced with a sardonic concern that only he could pull off. You swatted his hand away, a weak attempt at defiance. "Not claiming any awards for genius today," you mumbled, your voice thick with fatigue. "But starving is worse." Hyunjin's smirk softened. He could be infuriating, that was for sure, but even through the haze of your illness, you couldn't help but notice a flicker of something else in his eyes - maybe concern, maybe something more. Every step felt like a betrayal, your body screaming its protest with each groan. Yet, you pushed on, fuelled by a desperate need for the cool embrace of sheets and the sweet oblivion of sleep. Then, amidst the symphony of aches, a hand materialized, grabbing the very item you craved from the shelf. Another hand, warm and surprisingly gentle, nudged you closer to the checkout. You whirled around, expecting the worst, but instead, you found Hwang Hyunjin, the familiar scent of Hyunjin's cologne a sudden anchor in your sea of dizziness.

"You really gonna make a scene by collapsing in public?" he muttered, his voice surprisingly gentle. He pulled you closer, his arm a surprisingly strong shield against the encroaching crowd. His body heat, a stark contrast to your feverish chills, radiated comfort you couldn't deny. You stumbled a little, your vision swimming, but his presence, a steady anchor in the storm, kept you upright. "You don't need to care," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the supermarket din. You looked up at him, his face etched with a concern that made your heart skip a beat. He hummed, a low rumble that somehow soothed the storm raging within you. "I think so," he confessed, his eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before. "But you always make me worried, and care." He squeezed your arm gently, the gesture both firm and reassuring. His gaze meeting yours for a fleeting moment. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, held a depth you hadn't seen before. "Hurry up, I'll cook the meal. You should get your medicine, thank me later after you feel better."

©Tinytinyblogs

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

i've got an obey me ask

imagine an mc that's just been plucked for the program being from the complete opposite end of the financial spectrum of our beloved cast of pixelated men.

an mc that grew up/was living paycheck to paycheck, barely able to make ends need and feed themselves. it'd be literally night to day with them. they'd gasp over price tags and shopping totals reading thousands of grimm, still stuck in the mindset of "that'll break the bank." a spreadsheet on their computer of their money spending and gaining (i can't remember the proper terms for that stuff, it's been a hot minute since i learned it all in middle school), a long list of things they think they could never stored somewhere.

sure, it'd be on their student file that that's what their life was back in the human world, but whether anyone knows or not besides them is up to you (id imagine lucifer would probably gloss over it completely in the rush of getting paperwork done so he can get to bed before 5am lol grumpy old man needs sleep). poor thing might break down if anyone knew..

sorry if this seems odd, i just feel that as someone who's right there in the pay-to-pay situation, i'd be in complete shock of being able to actually (and easily) afford things without having to debate whether i really needed it or earned it.

if anything in the text is broke, i blame tumblr desktop version. my phone isn't working the best so i had to move here from mobile ;-;

"You spent how much on....?" Is a question the mc repeats to every brother but with different things. Demonus, designer clothes, figurines, skincare products, food, books, ancient objects, new blankets and pillows etc. But no one really thinks too much of it, despite mc's shock every time.

It's not until Mammon complains one time about how broke he is, and mc turns to him, looking him dead in the face saying. "You could easily survive the week with that much." Then they proceed to write him up a budget with the minimal amount of Grimm in his account.

"...mc how did you do that?"

"Oh I'm a pro, I once lived off of five dollars and spite for a full week." Mammon, is casually bringing this up with Lucifer next time he sees him.

"You didn't mention mc was flat broke before comin' here."

"...that's because I wasn't aware." Lucifer is pulling up mc's student file, and there it is in big bold writing. Lucifer and Mammon both have a lightbulb moment, thinking about different occasions where the topic of money came up and mc was acting strange. "If I were you, I'd minimize mentions of your spending habits around mc."

"...yeah." Mammon feels so guilty. That not only does he stick to mc's budget, he always mentions to them when he's managed to save money rather than spend it. But he'll still be a devil on their shoulder encouraging them to splurge a little on themselves because they deserve it.

Lucifer, Satan and Asmodeus would be using this knowledge to let mc know they are providers. (Mammon would too. He would but his budget skills are bad so he's a sometimes provider!) They will always make sure mc is financially good, so feel free to spend (within reason - Lucifer would argue). (You deserve to be spoilt - Asmodeus, Satan)

Beelzebub and Leviathan, would just buy things for mc instead when the opportunity arises. Beel will always pay when inviting mc out for food, it's his treat. mc was talking about wanting to get a game? well they don't need to get because Levi had it express delivered to the front door. (Mammon would also do this when he has money lmao)

"If you want it just buy it." Belphegor is firmly in the middle ground, because he'll tiredly tell mc those words, when they've been debating aloud to get the thing in question. If they mention it's too expensive and talk themselves out of buying it. He just gets it for them.

[ghostvalley2]

hi i have never heard of nanbaka and i am asking about it ?🎙(<-holding the microphone up to you)

Hello I love you and you will regret asking this

Nanbaka is an action comedy manga series originally published online by Futamata Sho. It’s set in Nanba Prison, the most highly-classified, high security prison in the world boasting absolutely no successful escapes and containing the most dangerous and cunning criminals. Our four main protagonists, Jyugo, Uno, Nico and Rock, are just teenagers whose crimes were benign - but they ended up in Nanba anyway because they escaped from literally everywhere else. 

Key features of Nanbaka include A) the very vibrant, highly saturated artstyle full of overly colourful characters and bright patterns that look like it came directly from 2010 deviant art:

[ID: A screenshot from the opening of the anime adaptation showing the main protagonists. From left to right: Rock, a tall muscular man with a purple and red overgrown mohawk and bright orange prisoner jumpsuit; Nico, a scrawny, Mexican-American teen with long, spiky, neon green hair, a bright orange prisoner jumpsuit and bandages on the right side of his body; Jyugo, a Japanese teen in a black and white jumpsuit with curly black and red hair, heterochromic eyes (purple and green) and clunky shackles on all limbs; and Uno, a lean white man with a long, blonde and pink braid wearing a blue and white striped jumpsuit and matching hat with a black vest top underneath. They are all sitting in a row apart from Jyugo, who stands in the middle. The background is a highly saturated, pop-art inspired gradient from white to black, and has sparkles. End ID]

And B) The fact that although it is a comedy, it becomes dark remarkably quickly and flips from low-stakes comedic bullshit to intensely dark, serious themes, usually with no buildup or warning, for the rest of the series. The first arc. For example. Starts off as a very lighthearted tournament setting with steaks no higher than “if the guards win they get a big paycheck bonus :)” and ends with the audience finding out that uhhh the main character is an old human test subject who can now consequently turn his limbs into massive, dangerous knives at will, has disfigured an old friend with them, and is now so clinically depressed that his only reason to keep going is the possibility of finding the person responsible for the experiments.

ANYWAY. Jyugo’s (the protagonist’s) depression is actually the reason it struck such a chord with me despite being objectively a bit of a messy series because it touched specifically on his extreme anhedonia and lack of motivation, making him someone who wants nothing and feels he leads an empty existence as a result. I was the same age as Jyugo when I first watched it and related heavily at the time!! I was very touched to read about it and about how his friends still love and value him, and want to share the things They love with him. Jyugo has nothing unique that makes him happy or that he wants to do but starts to find peace and healing as he engages with the things that make others happy and it’s so!!! Aught!!!! I’m normal about him ok. Look at my boy

[ID: 3 pieces of official art of Jyugo. From Left to right: Jyugo holding a cat called Kuu, Jyugo eating an ice lolly wearing swim goggles on a bright blue background that reads "SUMMER" in bright pink and yellow text, and Jyugo drawn in black and white on a black and bright red background wiping blood from his face. End ID]

Other themes in Nanbaka that I adore include corruption in the justice system, dehumanization, and healing from your cycle of abuse and violence and replacing it with a cycle of forgiveness and compassion. It's also been praised for its disabled characters, ethnic diversity in the cast, and subverting a lot of expectations of Japanese media, although I'm not an expert on. Any of those so I can't speak on it as much. Unfortunately and I will be 100% honest here you Do have to read through a bit of bullshit before you can get to any of that - it reaches chapter 174 before even mentioning that the series is set in a dystopian police state in the future.

Anyway uhhh if for some reason you read all that and still fancy getting into it I recommend watching the anime then reading the manga afterwards - it's not as good imo but it will help you understand the manga more because the writing really really is a bit of a mess. But it's worth it. to me.

[iiseult]

Day Off: Jerry Pascal x Vanessa Riggin (part 1)

Note: This is my first time writing anything for this fandom and probably nobody will gaf but i also dgaf so im posting it anyway!!! I needed a break from my other ongoing fics and im kinda obsessed w Jerry rn so this was an easy write.

CWs: Smut, fluff, oral, gas station sex, jerry is lichrally in love, mentions of alcohol consumption, idk just yeah man it's hot stuff

The first time Jerry met Vanessa, she was drunk on a Sunday afternoon. Not that he was judging.

When he heard the little bell above the front door jingle, he looked up from behind the counter and called his usual lackluster greeting of, “how can I help you?”, but it died in his throat and petered out into more of a “how can I- ha…” when he got a good look at her. She was wearing a yellow t-shirt and a pair of hello kitty pajama pants, and a pair of huge black sunglasses covered most of the top half of her face. She made a beeline for the alcohol aisle and, with her left hand, she grabbed the first six-pack of cheap beers she saw. In her right hand she held an empty coke bottle, which she placed in front of him on the counter with a grin.

“D’you think you could get rid of this for me? Couldn’t find a recycling bin outside.”

He kind of knew he was done for once he got a whiff of what was actually inside the coke bottle, and it sure wasn’t no coke. He was never one for professionalism, so he didn’t think twice about nodding dumbly and ringing her up without checking her ID, even though she was pretty obviously underage. He also didn’t think twice about shamelessly chatting her up– a conversation which ended in her appointment as a new part-time employee for the summer. Jerry didn’t actually have the power to hire anyone, but the way he proposed the idea to the owners on the phone later with such dignity and aplomb left them unable to refuse.

“Hey, please buddy, come on, I’m on my knees here! Look, I know you can’t see me, but if you check the security cameras you’ll see that I am literally… literally on my knees!” Jerry cried, tilting his head to the side and holding up prayer hands towards the camera, like a grotesque caricature of the Virgin Mary. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned for what felt like the millionth time in the past hour, turning around to avoid watching.

“Jerry, besides the fact that she was drunk for the entirety of the… ‘employee interview,’” he air-quoted, “we don’t have enough money to take on another employee! How are they gonna pay her?” Jerry put his hand over the receiver and shushed Jack viciously, a little spit flying out of his mouth, before returning to his conversation.

“Uh-huh…uh-huh…yeah, no, I completely understand, no, totally. Right, right. Of course. For sure. Definitely. Indubitably. Could you just give me one second, please?”

Jerry slumped against the side of the counter and sulked, covering the receiver again and sighing. He looked up at his friend with kicked puppy eyes. “But she’s so hot, dude, I’d hate to disappoint her…we gotta figure something out,” he muttered, when suddenly another brilliant idea struck him. “WAIT! I have had…a thought!” He declared, suddenly jumping to his feet and uncovering the receiver.

“You can give her half of my paycheck!”

So about a month and a half into working side-by-side at the gas station most days of the week, Vanessa and Jerry had grown quite close. He started picking up extra day shifts on top of his usual nights to make it up to the owners, and to spend more time with Van. It sounded like a great idea on June first, but by the time the fourth of July rolled around, he was really starting to look worse for wear. He often worked 24 hours in a row and only had eight-hour breaks between them, during which he’d sleep on a hammock in the dry storage room, not seeing a point in driving all the way home just to come back as soon as he opened his eyes. Jack didn’t seem to mind; all he had to do was remember to knock before restocking the chips. And Van was none the wiser to the entire situation, clueless to the fact that Jerry was sacrificing so much to keep her around.

Despite the fact that it was her day off, Van swaggered into the gas station, cheering when she saw Jerry behind the counter. A goofy smile spread across his face. Even though it was the twenty-second straight hour of his shift and his eyes actually wouldn’t open more than halfway, he felt a warm tingly feeling spread through his body at her presence.

“Hey, what’s up, Van?” he called. She sidled up to the edge of his counter and leaned her elbows on it, gazing into his red-rimmed eyes absently.

“Thought I’d pay you a little visit since I got nothing going on tonight,” she drawled, and the fact that Jerry’s eyes were glued to the neckline of her low-cut top was not lost on her. In fact, it made her feel good inside. He nodded, and without looking back up he said, "Sure glad you did.”

Before she could say anything, the little bell rang and she turned her head to see an actual customer enter the store– a middle-aged man with a poorly concealed beer belly and a backwards baseball cap. She quickly walked around to the other side of the counter and planted herself next to Jerry, their shoulders brushing slightly. He shivered and glanced at her sidelong. She was staring ahead, watching the customer as he approached the counter with an assortment of items in his hands, a large grin on her face. He wanted to say something, to ask what she was up to, but that thought was dashed from his mind when the customer dumped his things in front of him with a loud ‘clunk.’

“Hey, how ya doin’ today,” Jerry said quietly. He rang up the items one by one. The customer grunted in acknowledgement. And below the counter, where nobody could see, Van slowly slid her hand up Jerry’s leg, starting at his knee and settling on his upper thigh. His breath hitched and his face began to heat up. Alarms were going off in his head, and he suddenly worried he had stayed up too many hours at a time and finally lost his mind, but when she gently squeezed his thigh, he swallowed hard. No, it was real. And there was really a customer in front of him, a matter of inches away, watching him attempt to do his job.

“Can I also get a pack of smokes?” the customer rasped, pointing to a pack of reds to Jerry’s left. Van squeezed harder, getting dangerously close to a sensitive area. Jerry cleared his throat and grabbed the cigarettes quickly, his hands shaking slightly.

“Yeah, n-no problem. That’ll be $17.80,” he replied quietly, accepting the twenty from the customer and handing him his change. The man gathered his things and grunted once more, turning around and heading for the door. As soon as he was facing the opposite direction, Jerry let out a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering shut, and discreetly shifted his weight, trying to hide the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Have a nice day!” Van called as the customer disappeared out the front door. As soon as he had, Jerry’s eyes darted around, making sure there was nobody else in the store. There wasn’t. He turned his body to face her, one hand gripping the countertop for dear life.

“Jesus, Van,” he muttered, and he could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. And also in his jeans. She turned so they were facing each other and her hands flew to his hips, holding him at an arm’s length.

“Aww, big boy, you’re so cute when you blush,” she said softly.

Jerry could feel his face getting hotter, could feel the entire room getting hotter. Despite this, he scoffed.

“I do not blush. I just… overheat sometimes. It’s a guy thing- a, a man thing,” he clarified, looking down at her sternly. She only smiled and patted his hip affectionately.

“Yes, you do, Jer, and I love it. Such a pretty boy,” she cooed, rubbing her thumbs over his hip bones. He let out a small sound that was something between a grunt and a whimper.

“Stop it, Van, you’re driving me crazy,” he complained, his voice tinged with amusement. In response she let out a groan, which turned into a low laugh as she noticed how his pants had magically become at least two sizes too small between the legs.

“Aww, pretty,” she chuckled, looking up into his half-lidded blue eyes through her lashes. He blushed deeply, trying not to look into her eyes, his heart stuttering in his chest. This is what he’d wanted so badly since the day he met her, and yet he was paralyzed. He couldn’t tell if she was just playing with him or if she actually wanted him to make a move, but he was betting on the first one.

“Van, please don’t tease me like this,” he pleaded, his voice coming out croaky and low. He stared down at the ground, his golden hair falling around his furrowed brow. She felt a pang of guilt and decided to change tactics, gently sliding her hands up from where they had previously been resting on his hips, and finding a new spot around his slim waist.

“But I’m not teasing you, honey…”

His heart skipped a beat and he shivered, his skin breaking out into goosebumps under her touch. She called him honey, and it left his head spinning. He wanted to believe her, to touch her back the way she was touching him, but he wasn’t yet totally convinced he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself.

“You… you’re not? 'Cause I don't really wanna act like a fool right now,” he replied, his throat dry, and she shook her head. She, on the other hand, loved when he acted like a fool. They did it together all the time! She considered saying as much but decided against it, thinking that maybe she should save that one for later. Instead, she squeezed his waist and urged him to take a step closer, whispering, “No, baby, I’m not teasing.”

There was only a little sliver of space between them now, her chest bumping up against his, and the tent in his jeans brushing almost imperceptibly against her thighs. His hands hovered awkwardly at her sides, unable to decide if he should ask permission before touching her or just do it. He started to speak, to ask “then what…” but the words died in his throat and all that came out was a soft, “Huh?”

She grabbed one of his hands and placed it on her own hip, looking up at him darkly and all but confirming what he so desperately needed to hear– that she wanted him, too. He moved his thumb experimentally up to the hem of her low-rise jeans, brushing the pad of it against her flawless skin, and both of them sucked in a sharp breath, simultaneously experiencing the same shock of electricity. Her reaction filled him with a wave of confidence. He knew he wasn’t just imagining things, that she really wanted him, and that by the looks of things, it was pretty bad. He gently tugged her hips forward, pressing them against his own and grunting softly at the contact. He thought he was ready for it, but he was so hard it was almost painful and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking into her soft, yielding flesh. She let out a harsh breath through her nose and closed her eyes.

“Jer…”

He craned his neck down and got in her face, breathing heavily and looking at her through his lashes. Those pretty blond lashes framed his big blue eyes so well and she just melted when he looked at her like that.

“You want me, pretty?” she whispered sweetly, gripping his hips a little tighter, possessively. He clenched his jaw and nodded rapidly, whispering back,

“Please, can I have you?” She grinned and nuzzled her face against his neck, pressing kisses to his scruffy jaw and the skin around it. Her lips brushed his ear as she murmured,

“Yeah. Take me to the storage room,” and Jerry sucked in a sharp breath and dug his fingers into her soft hips. When he spoke again, his voice came out rough and strained.

“Y-yeah? You mean it? You want me… right now?” She slid one hand up under the hem of his t-shirt and spread her fingers out over the warm, bare skin there. His body was aching for more, practically vibrating with the need to be closer to her, so he grabbed her smaller hand softly and led her to the dry storage room where he slept. Thankfully, it was only a few steps away, and she quietly closed the door behind them. Jerry leaned his back against it, his chest heaving as his breath came in shallow gasps. Vanessa pressed her body against his, practically draping herself against him, and cupped his face softly.

“Jer, you’re gonna have to be quick,” she muttered. He laughed heartily.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t need much time.” She bit back a goofy grin and slid her hand down to his collarbones, feeling the tingle of heat as it radiated from his skin and invaded her own. He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

“Van, lady, please…” his voice rumbled deeply in his chest, and she felt the vibrations against her bosom. She shivered and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Do you want me to touch you now?” she whispered, cradling his stubbly cheek in her hand and letting the other one fall to rest on his waistband. Jerry nodded frantically, eyes still closed, jaw clenched. She took one last deep breath and blew it out before leaning forward and capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, moving her mouth against his slowly and languidly. His arms instinctually encircled her waist and he held her carefully as he furrowed his brows and kissed back. All the tension, all the months of pent-up frustration and need poured out of him suddenly.

He moaned into her mouth, and she took the opportunity to lick past the seam of his lips and slide her tongue against his, making sure he couldn’t go anywhere by grabbing the back of his neck. She breathed his scent in deeply and pressed every inch of skin she could into his body, and all she could think about was him. In her mind’s eye she saw him, the last expression she had seen him make, his face flushed and brows furrowed. In a frantic attempt to get closer to her, he pressed one palm against the small of her back and another between her shoulder blades. Every flick of her tongue sent a wave of heat through his already overheated body.

When the kiss finally broke, they were both panting, and Jerry had a strange expression on his face, like he was using every ounce of his concentration to make her clothes turn see-through.

“God, Van…” he said, his voice deep and rumbling. She pressed one more short kiss to his lips before dropping to her knees in front of him, and his heart jumped into his throat.“You don’t have to…” he protested weakly, even though his hips were pointing towards her like a magnetic force. She swatted away his words and scoffed, already fussing with his clothes, swiftly unbuckling his belt and undoing the button of his jeans.

“I’ll do a better job later, but this’ll work for now,” she said, grabbing his pants and pulling them all the way down to his ankles in one swift motion. Jerry’s breathing was ragged and desperate, and the promise of there being a ‘later’ to look forward to sent a pang of lust ripping so strongly through him that the room momentarily spun.

“God, Van, I’m so…” he began, his cheeks flushing even deeper as he looked down at her face hovering only inches away from his throbbing need, “…hard,” he finished. He was painfully aware of how badly he wanted her, how sensitive he was, and he was glad this was only meant to be a quickie, because he’d be done for in a matter of minutes. Van kept one hand planted firmly on his hip, and with the other she palmed his bulge through his boxers, unable to look away from it.

“My God, Jer, what is this, like, seven inches? Fuck,” she swore, her mouth already watering. He shivered, already so sensitive that the slightest touch set his nerve endings on fire, threatening to overwhelm him. His length bobbed and strained against the thin fabric, leaving a small wet spot on it.

“Y-yeah,” he managed to gasp out, “About that, I guess.” He was suddenly slightly embarrassed at how much her words obviously affected him, when normally he would have had no shame at all about his body, but there was no way for him to hide his reaction. She pulled down his boxers quickly, his rock-hard cock springing up against his stomach, and her jaw dropped as she finally laid eyes on it, pink and swollen and fat. Jerry’s skin burned under her gaze, the way she was looking at him making him crazy. His hands balled into fists at his sides, but as her eyes widened at the sight of him, that confidence from earlier came back and he couldn’t help but reach out and run a hand through her hair and mumble, “You’re so pretty.”

She grinned and wrapped a hand around him firmly, spitting on the tip, and Jerry couldn’t stop the strangled moan that escaped him, or the way his hips bucked into her fist. He couldn’t believe she was actually smiling, actually volunteering to blow him. It was like she was a wet dream come to life. She pumped him a few times just to get the blood flowing before bringing her lips down and pressing a wet kiss to his tip. As soon as her soft skin made contact with him, he let out a filthy, pornographic moan, his head falling back against the wall. He felt his legs tremble, and he was sure he’d collapse by the end of it if she didn’t stop, but he was also sure he never, ever wanted her to stop.

“Van, ah, that feels so good,” he gasped as she flicked her tongue around his sensitive head, drawing more and more sounds from his lips.

“Good, honey, so good,” she whispered, flattening her tongue against his shaft and dragging it all the way up to spread around the moisture. Once she was satisfied that he was properly coated, she looked up through her eyelashes and swallowed about half of him, keeping her hand curled firmly around what didn’t fit. The way his cheeks flushed and his knees buckled encouraged her to start bobbing her head up and down, her lips still wrapped around him firmly. Jerry had to press his back harder into the wall to keep from falling.

“Ohmygod you’re so pretty,” he repeated, unable to tear his eyes away from her face and the way his cock completely filled her mouth. As a thank you, she started moving her hand in tandem with her head and sucked hard, creating the max amount of friction she possibly could without hurting him. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his whole body tense with pleasure, and with the effort of forcing himself not to buck into her mouth. Though his hands were buried in her hair, he was gentle, never pulling on it too hard, only holding it to help ground himself. Vanessa began picking up the pace, moving her head faster and continuing to swirl her tongue around the head, occasionally letting it flick across his sensitive slit to make him yelp.

“A-ah!” he cried breathlessly. She hummed around him and tried not to smile, bringing up her free hand to play with his balls. Her finger accidentally grazed his perineum in the process, making him moan out her name, long and deep. She pulled off him for a second and couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh, you like that?” she asked, gently dragging her finger against the area again. His legs wobbled and he groaned, and she squeezed her hand a little tighter around his base, starting to pump him again as her mouth went back to work. She was going fast now, gagging a little as she swallowed as much of him as she could and continued stimulating him with her finger.

“Holy shit, Van!” he moaned, threading his fingers tightly through her hair as his thighs began to shake. “I’m- I’m gonna c-” His sentence was cut off by a loud cry ripping through his throat, and the sound of Van moaning in pleasure around his shaft as he shot his load into her mouth. His entire body shuddered and he had to catch himself before his knees completely gave out. She slowed down a bit but kept going for a few more seconds despite his whines and gentle tugs to her hair, wanting to make sure she milked his cock for everything. She didn’t hesitate to swallow everything he gave her, sticking out her tongue to show him afterwards. Once again, he had to fight to stay upright after seeing that.

“That was…I’ve never…it’s been so long since…” he gasped, looking at her with pure adoration as she got to her feet and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He could taste himself, musky and slightly bitter, and made a mental note to include some more pineapple in his diet.

“You taste pretty good, huh?” she teased, running her tongue along his bottom lip.

“Ugh, fuck,” he moaned, face going slightly red at that. His heart was beating a million times a minute, his body still buzzing with pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He wanted to give her some of the warmth he was feeling, show her what she really did to him. He closed his eyes and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. “Van, you’re so good at that…” he mumbled stupidly, a mindless grin plastered on his lips. Jerry was drunk a lot of the time, but somehow this was not one of those times, no matter how much it seemed like it. Maybe he was drunk off lust, or desire. Or something else. Who knows what kind of chemicals one could inhale while working at the shitty gas station at the edge of town. Van melted into the hug, relishing the feeling of his thick arms caging her in, keeping her warm and safe. But she knew he was in a time crunch.

“Break’s over, sugar,” she whispered, and he made a noise of discontentment and buried his face into her shoulder.

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled against her skin, his voice half-muffled. She laughed quietly and stroked his dirty-blond hair, almost petting him. He pressed his face into her neck and breathed in her gentle scent, the scent he had come to associate with tenderness over the past month and a half, and a sense of contentment washed over him.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d do a better job later?” she cooed.

“Yeah, but now I don’t think I can wait,” he muttered. Van gently let go of him, pulling back a little so she could look into his eyes.

“I’ll make it worth it,” she promised, “I’ll come by your place after your shift.” Van knew where Jerry lived, and she wasn’t averse to the fact that it was quite literally in the back of an abandoned school bus that was probably illegally parked behind the old Mathmetist compound. She’d been there to play shitty knock off video games and grill various meats a few times before, and it really wasn’t so bad once you got used to it. Especially once Jerry brought out the beers.

He gently released her, his body already missing the feeling of her against him. His mind had already conjured up at least three different scenarios about how the night would unfold later, and at least two of them involved a blindfold and cherry flavored condoms. He gave her a lopsided grin and nodded.

“You better,” he said, his voice still a little raw from earlier. He couldn’t wait for his shift to be over.

[dollsonmain]

So I feel bad about the gas station because Manager is making changes to the register to make it easier for me to use, which is likely making it harder for their other employees to use because THEY are used to the register as it was.

She was like "I'm glad we hired you because now I see how messy the register screen was..." and I still wish she'd see how convoluted her scanning (or not...) system is and take the time to implement proper scanning and inventory management.

Either way, my ineptitude might be paving the way for her to make the system more logical, which will help whomever comes along after me. That seems to always be the case. Things are bad, I endure and try to make it better, I have to leave, after I leave things get better.

At the same time I'm wishing That Guy would also see how convoluted our financial set up is.

Like, I forgot to get him to sign a check for the repair man that's coming today. If the repair man won't leave without payment then I'll have to write a check out of my personal account, which I just paid the water bill out of my personal account while I have no income (I haven't gotten my first paycheck from the gas station, yet), and I don't have much in my accounts at all while he's sitting on a good-sized chunk of money and can easily pay these bills and fees, or I could if I had access to do so.

But, instead of making it easier for me to pay for things, he makes it harder by telling me to inconvenience workers instead. He said to have the guy leave a bill.

-

Anyway, Katie is now lost in the mail and Licca box says USPS is waiting for it but it's also moving around within USPS.

I got the before photos taken for those ponies, transferred, and most of them IDed. I've forgotten a lot of their names, and a lot of the photos came out blurry but I can't tell that on the tiny camera screen so, whatever.

They're filthy and I'd like to get started at least getting them clean, but can't. I have too much else to do.

[dahliawolfe]

Chemistry Lesson

Grey’s AU med school fic. 

Freyja dumped her duffel on the blue plastic covered mattress and sighed. The room was bigger than she was expecting, but she had a roommate. But, she’d rarely be in her room anyway, she figured; not between classes and internship. The bed across from hers was already covered in a beige duvet and robin’s egg blue pillows. A copy of Grey’s Anatomy laid on the plush cover. Rolling her eyes, Freyja sifted through the box she brought up with her and drug out the black velvet duvet, ruby sheets, and matching pillow cases. She quickly made her bed and tossed her bat shaped pillow in the center of it before moving to her closet to hang up the few clothes she had. She hung her crisp, blue scrubs up at one end of the closet, placing her med bag in the bottom beneath it. Her black work sneakers sat beside that, and her combat boots and chucks stood on the other side of the closet. The one nice dress and shoes she owned were pushed back in the back of the closet. She was told that she would be expected to attend the Hospital’s Christmas party, and that it would be black tie, so she took most of her last paycheck and purchased a black velvet and lace evening gown that hugged her body and some black peep toe pumps. She looked damn good in it, if she did say so herself.

“Oh, hi, you must be my roommate,” came a voice from the doorway. A young, blonde girl with blue-green eyes stood offering a shy, crooked smile.

“Oh, yeah. I guess. I’m Freyja,” the girl replied, sticking out her hand for a shake.

“Meredith.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence before Meredith spoke again. “I was heading down to the dining hall. Want to join me?”

“Sure. Let me grab my ID.” Freyja was at medical school on a scholarship, and it covered a meal plan, so for once, she wouldn’t need to worry about affording food.

…

The two roommates made small talk as they made their way to the dining hall across campus. The weather was still hot and sticky, so by the time they made it back into the air conditioning, Freyja could feel the sweat running down under the waistband of her denim cutoffs. They each grabbed a tray, and began to fill it. Meredith looked like she was having a hard time choosing between a salad and a slice of mushroom pizza, so Freyja nudged her arm. “That salad is never gonna taste as good as that pizza. Just get the slice.” Meredith laughed and nodded, grabbing the slice of pizza and stepping forward.

They snagged a table near the back of the room, and sat down, diving into the food. Freyja nearly jumped out of her skin when a tray was slammed down beside her and someone plopped down onto the seat. She looked over in astonishment as the girl beside her began to tear into a sub sandwich.

“Christina,” the girl grunted around the food.

“Oh, umm…I’m Freyja, this is Meredith.” Cristina nodded and went back to eating, only stopping long enough to pull a thick textbook out of her bag and toss it on the table.

“This spot open?” came a deep voice from Freyja’s other side. She looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

“Uhh, sure,” she replied, lifting her wallet and keys from the stool and placing them on the table.

“Thanks. I’m Mark. Mark Sloan. And you are?”

“Freyja Poe.” Mark gave her a dazzling smile.

“Nice to meet you, Freyja. Who are your friends?” Freyja has never been the person to volunteer to interact with others, so she was extremely uncomfortable.

“This is Meredith, my roommate. And this is Cristina.” Christina paid the man no mind as she began to highlight vigorously in her text book. Mark nodded before looking up and yelling out.

“Yo, Owen, over here!” A tall red head in fatigues gave a wave before making his way to the table. “Ladies, this is Owen, my roommate.”

Introductions were made again, and everyone finally settled in to eat. Freyja looked up from her pudding cup to find a guy staring straight at Meredith. “You know him, Mer?” she questioned, cocking a brow at the guy.

Meredith turned to look, before turning back around and shaking her head. “No.”

“Well, he’s been giving you googly eyes the whole time we’ve been here,” Mark chuckled. Meredith blushed. Seeing that his ruse was up, the guy stood and approached the table.

“You guys interning at Grace?” he asked, plopping down beside Meredith.

“Yup. I’m Mark. And this is Freyja,” he motioned to her. “Cristina, Owen,” he grinned, pointing at Meredith. “And that’s Meredith.”

“Alex Karev.” There was a beat of awkward silence before he spoke again. “Listen, you should call me sometime, I think we could really hit it off,” he stated, passing a piece of paper to Meredith before standing and strolling away. Meredith sat, speechless, staring at the paper. Freyja snorted.

…

“Well, this is where we leave you ladies,” Mark proclaimed as they reached the Watson Hall dorm.

“Uhh, where are you guys staying?” Owen asked Cristina, who had yet to give him the time of day.

“Meredith and I are in Geiger,” Freyja added lamely. Cristina’s eyes lit up.

“Me too!”

“Oh, nice. Your roomie here yet?” Owen asked. Cristina scowled.

“I don’t have one. Something about me being hard to live with.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” the red head added.

“What room are you in, Freyja?” Cristina asked, smiling widely at Freyja.

“Oh, we’re in 13B.”

“I’m in 18! Sweet, I’m seeing parties in our future!”

…

Freyja and Meredith made it to their door, only to see that their neighbors had arrived. A tall brunette with wild curls and a pretty smile stood on one side of the room unloading a fuchsia body pillow, while another brunette lounged on a turquoise gaming chair.

“Oh, hey, guys! I’m Callie, and this is Anna!” the taller of the two stated, waving cheerfully.

“Hi, I’m Freyja”

“I’m Meredith.” Anna studied the two closely before nodding.

“Nice to meet you both. You guys from around here?”

“Uhh, I’m LA,” Freyja replied, studying the room. It was cozy and slightly Boho, and she could tell that Callie and Anna’s tastes meshed well together.

“Yeah. I’m from Seattle,” Meredith added.

“I’m from Florida, and Anna here is from New York.”

“You guys at Grace?” Anna asked, kicking her feet up on her bed.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yup. Have you taken a look at the intern schedule yet? My hours are brutal.”

“Yeah. I’ve got my first rotation in the ER Monday. It’s a 6 to 6,” Freyja stated.

“Oh, nice! I’m ER this week too. We can carpool if you want,” Anna offered, giving a bright smile.

“That’d be great, actually.”

…

Later that night, Freyja sat up watching the rain slide down the windows at the end of her hall. She was restless. In just 2 days, she would be well on her way to making her dreams a reality.

…

Monday morning came quicker than Freyja expected. At exactly 5:18, she slid into the leather seats of Anna’s Range Rover.

“Freyja, wait! Can I catch a ride with you?!” came a shout. Mark jogged closer to the car. “Owen borrowed my car for his weekend drills and didn’t get back in time!”

“Ummm…I’m not driving though.” Freyja turned to look at Anna, who rolled her eyes, sighed, and nodded. "Sure, come on.” Mark grinned and flopped into the backseat. Freyja studied him. He was tall, tan, and muscular, and his golden rod hair was shot through with bits of caramel and chocolate. His scrubs hugged his every muscle. He smirked at her.

“See something you like, Poe?”

“No. Just wondering why they sent you child sized scrubs, that’s all.” Anna choked on her coffee, spewing it out with her laugh.

…

“Listen to me. And listen to me well,” Miranda Bailey intoned. “I will not hold your hands. If you screw up, then it is on you. I will kick your ass out of this program so fast that your head will spin. Seattle Grace has the best of the best. And we do not settle for less. You will learn to listen when I speak. And you will learn what is important to remember. Which is everything, because I don’t waste my breath on nonsense. Am I clear?” All of the interns nodded mutely. “Good. Now, I don’t like losing, so you better not make me look bad.”

Freyja couldn’t help but feel the shot of excitement that ran from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

…

“Karev, if you can’t run a line, move out of the way. Poe, you’re in.” Bailey spoke in the last few minutes leading up to the end of shift on Friday night. Freyja stepped up, gave Alex a small smile of sympathy and placed the line, having no trouble, whatsoever. Bailey gave her a much coveted smile. “Nice work, Wednesday.” Bailey loved poking fun at Freyja’s dark aesthetic, and Freyja just felt fortunate to be noticed. “That’s it for today. The pit is empty. I expect to see you all back her Monday morning, bright and early. And remember next week is a 7 day, none of this pansy 5 day stuff.” With that, the woman walked away and everyone let out a sigh of relief, rushing to the locker room quickly before a tragedy came in.

…

The whiskey burned going down, but Freyja sighed nonetheless. She knew it would offer her the chance to take her brain offline for a bit, and fuck did she need that. She looked around her. Cristina was posted next to her on the stool, steadfastly ignoring Owen’s obvious advances. Anna and Callie were leaning against the pool table hustling a couple of townies who had no chance in hell of leaving with either of them. Alex had his tongue shoved just about as far down Meredith’s throat as Freyja thought possible. And Mark stood at the jukebox placing quarters in the slot.

“Hey, Frey, I’m gonna head out with Alex,” Meredith spoke, finally coming up for air. Freyja nodded, saluting them with her next shot before tossing it back.

“Come on, you,” Mark demanded, pulling Freyja off of her stool and close to his chest, as he swayed to the music. Freyja whined at being pulled away from the bar. “Oh, no. We survived our first week in the trenches together. You’re gonna dance with me, soldier.” His hand wove around her hips and shoulder and he swayed her against his body.

“Bon Jovi, really, Mark?” Freyja teased as Mark sang softly to “You Give Love a Bad Name”.

“Shut up. You love it.”

…

Mark had been twirling Freyja around for the better part of two hours. When she finally got free and stumbled back to the bar, she was laughing, and his hands stayed glued to her hips. They sat side by side as Freyja ordered them some shots. She looked over at Mark, who offered her a smile and leaned in.

“You know, we could take this somewhere else.” Freyja sighed, just having his breath ghost her ear was enough to get her wet, but she knew better.

“Mark, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We work together.”

“Oh, we could work together,” he raised his brows at her suggestively. Freyja laughed and slapped his arm.

“Seriously. Neither of us needs ties right now.”

“Then no strings.”

“Mark…”

“You only live once.” 

“Look, we have chemistry. I know you feel it. So, we have some hot sex to blow off some steam. No one has to know. Just you and me. I mean, I can give you references, if you’re questioning my abilities.” Freyja snorted, looking at him evenly.

“We shouldn’t.”

And well, who was she to argue?

[andyteacupcultist]

I tried to capture the feel of comic while making it clear what is going on in each panel/where one ends and another begins, but I’m not that great at writing, so I hope this is at least ok.

[ID: A comic interpretation of Selmer’s poem in Night In The Woods.

The comic starts with a broad panel looking over a grey blue landscape, hills and a few trees. “There’s no reception in Possum springs” it reads,the last two words a shining neon signs in red and a bright yellow-orange, the only warmth in the panel.

The next shows part of Selmer’s head. She’s a brown anthropromorphic bear that looks like she’s not slept in ages. “No reception here.” is written in blue letters on a blue and empty sky.

In the third panel she’s holding her phone into the air, the broken screen turned towards the viewer. The sky is an even lighter blue with a few clouds. “I wave my black phone in the air / like a prayer / like a flare”.

Fourth panel, black birds are taking of from equally black phonelines into the yellowing sky. “But no reception”

Cut to an old fashioned monitor and keyboard sitting on a desk. On the screen the windows are similarly old fashioned. A cat person in a suit is shown with a big grin, apparently talking about the sales he’s made, judging by the red line shown next to him. The screen is framed by her poem. “I read on the internet / Baby face boy billionaire / Phone app sold made more money in one day than my family in over 100 generations.” The last two words are in the margin, blood red on the black grey gutter between panels.

Selmer sitting on the front stairs of a house, wearing a large pink sweater and black skirt. She’s staring out into the world, past the falling autum leaves. “More than my whole world ever has.” the poem continues.

The next words are on a browned note hanging on a tree, the way that a local advertisement may be, with some of the phone number bits at the bottom ripped off. The way the paneling works almost makes it seem as though this tree may be standing next to Selmer. “World where house-buying jobs became rent-paying jobs became living with family jobs” the note says.

The next panel shows the cat person again, their smile now predatory rather than merely self absorbed. The background is that of a broken old tv. The cat’s eyes are blocked by a black bar on which is written, in neon blue. “Boy billionaires”

Cut to a humanoid skull, a white, red eyed rat looking out through the eye hole, a reddish, apocalyptic feeling gradient in the background. “Money is access / access to politicians” is written in this panel.

The next panel is in oranges and reds showing an old railroad bridge over a chasm. “Waiting for us to die / lead in our water” is written around it in a white tinted to match the background better.

In the next image one sees a dark blue crocodile person coughing, the background still tinted as a sunset. “Alcohol and painkillers” it says.

The next picture is that of a fox person wearing a leather jacket and manning a typical American cornerstore, an almost forced normalcy in the colour scheme compared to the other panels  surrounding it. “Replace my job with an app” is written in this panel.

The next sees the return of the reds and oranges, now tinting the outlines of two houses and a picket fence, though the sky with blowing leaves and a large banner take up the largest part of the image. “Replace my dreams of a house and a yard with a couch in the basement” is written above the banner, “The future is yours”, the banner on which two crows sit says. Below that is written “Forced 24-7 entrepreneurs / I just want a paycheck and my own life”

The red sunset colours fading to a geying indigo we see Selmar stomp of into the coming night. She’s turning away from the words: “I’m on a couch in the basement”.

The next panel is an image of her face, angry, tired and now with an entirely dark blue background. The words are yellow on black and read: “they’re in the house and the yard”

One last image of a dark bird with the hills and trees bathed in the dying light. “Some night I will catch a bus out to the west coast”, is written.

The last panel shows a still smoking factory bathed in the night with a radio tower emitting a purple light in the background. The text reads: “And burn their silicon city to the ground”.

End ID]

If you follow Selmers to the poetry society meeting in Night In The Woods, this is her poem. I loved it and the themes of the game, and wanted to use it as practice to see if i can control the way readers ‘hear’ the words through images.

[yantisocial]

if you do subsystems could you make a 3-5 headmate large marvel cinematic universe subsys? if not, just one headmate!

This is gonna be so chaotic because I mayyyy or may not have mostly just included my favorite mcu characters UwU (and its mostly just basic info, due to the amount i'm writing. so...I lied. my self control is in shambles and i got really into this.)

{ I have included Paraphilias here since you didn’t request there to not be, but you can obv disregard anything in this that you don’t want 😊}

anyways, I hope you find these packs helpful!

BODY/GENERAL INFO

Birth Name: Myles Mangjeol

Age: 27

Collective Pronouns: he/they + ai/ais/aiself

Collective Name: Matchbox (Match), Cryo

(Cis)IDs: half-East Asian (South Korea), half-Caucasian (Germany), ocd, did, npd, avpd

TransIDs: genderflux, transMasc, transKind, permaWindblownHair, 

Discomforts/Triggers: food stands/trucks

Appearance:

ALTER 1:

(I went a little off the rails for this one, sorry lol. They came to me in a vision and HAD to be included here.)

Name(s): Match, Lighter, Pyro, Burne

Nickname(s): Pie, Bur

General Description: Pyro is a civilian who lives in NYC near Stark Tower, and has looked up to Tony Stark for years. They are a pyromaniac but are not nonconsensually violent (aka they don’t start fights, they finish them, lol). They’re trained in self defense and enjoy taekwondo, which he has earned their blue belt in. burn also knows how to street fight, but no longer does so unless necessary. however, when they were 16-18 they were quite a thug and did do some petty crimes, such as theft. A lot of times they miss that life. They tend to scrape by in life, are a survivalist at its core, and generally live paycheck to paycheck. Nonetheless they have a brilliant mind and love to tinker with and make all sorts of gadgets (mostly ones that include fire in some way lol).

Age: 25

Pronouns: he/it/burn/they/she ; prefers masculine or neutral terms

Interests: heroes, cooking, eating, burning things, street fighting, taekwondo, rapping

Discomforts/Triggers: hates being called anything like “kid” or kiddo, or being referred to as a girl/woman, even when using she/her pronouns ; Cynophobic (fear of dogs), Haphephobic (fear of being touched), Scoptophobic (fear of being stared at), Agoraphobic (fear of crowds and/or open/public spaces)

(Cis)IDs: Pyromaniac, Abrosexual, Asexual-spec, Partially Blind, Puerterican-American, Mutant (moderate strength enhancement)

TransIDs: transArsonist, permaBurned, permaScarredHands, permaScarredFace, transPyromancer, transReciprosexual, permaBloodyNose, transCriminal, transVillain, permaRedIrises

Role (if any): Host ; Has been around since the body was 12

Emoji and/or Proxy Tag: 🫥❤️‍🔥 or ~ℼ or 🥧🔥

Source Talk (if applicable): yes

Paras: Sadomasochism (hurting others & being hurt), Agonophilia (consensual noncon), Odaxelagnia (biting/being bitten), Pyrophilia (fire)

Appearance: 

Extra: relates HEAVILY to the songs “Redemption” by Poor Man’s Poison, “Saint Bernard” by Lincoln, “Coffee” by Jack Stauber, and “BURN IN HELL” by Red Leather. They really can't see w/o their glasses/contacts but often takes them off and leave them at home for sensory reasons

ALTER 2:

Name(s): Anthony Stark

Nickname(s): Tony

General Description: Tony does not consider himself to be Iron Man in any way, just a tech genius. He has no interest in heroism, but loves creating new technology. He does really like Iron Man though.

Age: 32

Pronouns: he/it/tech

Interests: tech, computers, AI, fidget toys (tech likes the keyboard ones best), inventing

Discomforts/Triggers: dislikes intimacy and is a self-proclaimed “playboy” due to this

(Cis)IDs: cishet man, aromantic-spec, white, partially deaf in one ear

TransIDs: transSocial, transBisexual, transRich

Role (if any): emotional protector

Emoji and/or Proxy Tag: 🤖🛠️ or --T.Stark

Source Talk (if applicable): yes

Paras: Hybristophilia (Criminals), Mazophilia (breasts)

Appearance: 

Extra: enjoys music by Red Leather, Hollywood Undead, Paramore and Saint Motel

ALTER 3:

Name(s): Winter Soldier, J.B.

Nickname(s): Jim, Wint, Soldier

General Description: J.B. is cold, closed off, and generally feels very few emotions, though not zero. He dislikes talking to others, including those in his system, but if its what needed to get the job done, he’ll do it. He split very recently due to the system being overworked and underslept. He doesn’t feel hunger, so the others have to remind him to eat. He has an insanely high pain tolerance.

Age: 26

Pronouns: he/him

Interests: drumming, fighting, indie and punk rock music (he REALLY likes the songs "Risk" by Mega Mango, “Sleepwalk” by Forrest Day, and “Feel Better” by Penelope Scott, but you’d have better luck pulling his teeth than getting him to admit he likes anything other than violence lmao), dark chocolate, deadly sweet coffee

Discomforts/Triggers: people in general ; he’s incredibly antisocial

(Cis)IDs: white, bisexual, ASPD, Autistic

Role (if any): Cassmate

Emoji and/or Proxy Tag: [JB] or --WS

Source Talk (if applicable): no.

Paras: Haematophilia (blood)

Appearance:

Extra: god he’s so emo. Head in hands my dude. Get this man a coffee (specifically the starbucks peppermint mocha or espresso con panna) and a band tee with the sleeves cut off STAT. he also really likes fall weather and watching the leaves fall from the trees to relax. He hates mint but loves peppermint. He laughs at pain (both his own and others’) because he doesn’t realize it…actually hurts…

ALTER 4:

Name(s): Loki Laufeyson

General Description: agent of chaos, bastard king. Loves to lie and is scary smart. He’s kinda chill though, ngl. WILL cover up a murder for you if you ask. Not that you would ask. probably.

Age: 1,082

Pronouns: any, enjoys when they’re switched up

Interests: stirring the pot (causing drama), cheesy drama shows like Love Island and The Bachelor/-ette

Discomforts/Triggers: ornithophobic (fear of birds), haphephobia (fear of/disgust from touch) and honestly, he just really doesn’t like the hulk

(Cis)IDs: bisexual, genderfuck, npd, bpd, aspd

TransIDs: nullspecies, nullrace, nullethnicity, nullgender

Role (if any): no one knows, he just exists to be a bastard i think

Emoji and/or Proxy Tag: 💎👑 or 😏💸 or -L.

Source Talk (if applicable): not unless you’re pretty close

Paras: there’s gotta be some sort of asguardian word for “mortal-liker,” right…?

Appearance:

Extra: POINTS AT HER. 🫵 WILL WOOD AND MINDLESS SELF INDULGENCE ENJOYER...that's all thank you.