#oh shit when the fuck did it get this LATE

[tuesdayiminlove]

happy disaster

rockstar!eddie x fem!waitress!reader (imperfect for you universe)

summary: how you two meet

author's note: an ask about how they met came earlier today and i couldn't help myself lol. not proofread sorry! also this could be read as a standalone! but u can read the og part here! hope u guys enjoy lmk what yall think xoxo

word count: 3.1k

You’ve had your fair share of jobs throughout the last few years, trying to make ends meet while also being a consumer of the various cute things you see when you’re at the mall with your friends. One time (and this may have been one of the more miserable experiences), you worked as a receptionist for an auto shop (get it now?)).

Needless to say, you were at the bottom of the hierarchy at that whole joint. When you weren’t answering calls and taking hyperspecific notes to not confuse the actual mechanics, you were practically shunned from the moment you stepped up from your seat and onto the street to eat your lunch at the bench outside. And whenever your lips did part to make even the simplest of comments, the men either laughed at you or made you feel stupid (“You guys hired me! Clearly I’m not a fucking idiot!” you dreamt of saying, but you were just never one for the dramatics and confrontation of it all).

And, the worst part, on days you couldn’t go into work, none of the other receptionists would switch with you.

(“Sorry, babe, I just can’t,” you remember Joey Warner staying after taking a drag of his cig, coughing mere seconds later from not exhaling immediately. You wanted to take the cigarette between your fingers, toss it down, and squish it with your shoes. You really needed to pick up your brother from school, and no one at the shop is ever up Joey’s ass since he’s a guy.

“Oh. It’s alright.” You curse yourself and your lack of ever wanting conflict, because you’re more than positive that this boy deserves a beating for not taking the reins for an hour just so that your poor baby brother won’t have to wait on the cold sidewalk for your mom, who is forty minutes late.

You walk back into the shop without another word.)

So. yeah, call this mechanic memory useless, but now it's clear that your jobs have been absolute dog shit in the past.

But being a waitress at Carly’s Diner, in comparison, takes the cake in the coworker camaraderie contest.

Like, now, you’re enjoying your break with Carrie, splitting half a cupcake that Jim managed to slip into your guys’ hands when he was pulling the fresh desserts from the oven. You two have turns at it, taking nimble bites from the vanilla confection and wiping rainbow sprinkles off your uniform in the process. Your nose blends in the smell of the cupcake and Carrie’s sweet perfume, leaving a little bubble where you can hardly tell what the boys in the kitchen are whipping up right now.

Judy passes through the doors in a haste, heaving before setting her eyes on you two. The notepad in her hands is crumpled up and her hair looks all over the place, eyes bewildered as she stalks towards you and Carrie, a complan ready to spill from her red lips. 

“This fucking couple on table three is driving me nuts! Nuts!” She slumps her back against the wall and swipes a piece of frosting off the cupcake before sticking it in her mouth, sighing in relief.

“Hey,” Carrie swats Judy’s hand, “watch the cupcake!” She places it behind her back possessively.

Carrie is nearly six months pregnant and craving every sweet treat Jim has to offer in between tables and shifts. It’s a miracle that she let you split the dessert with her just now, “And table three, you said?”

Judy ignores her earlier words and nods. “I swear to God, I don’t understand your goddamn generation and why you heaps are so fucking rude. I can't do this.”

“Don’t group us with those weirdos,” says Carrie. “And I’d like to see them be rude to a pregnant woman. Protect this,” she hands you the cupcake carefully, looking at you in the eyes with intent, “and I mean it.”

Her voice is so determined, you decide that you don’t want your fair share of bites anymore. You nod dutifully.

“I got this, Jude.” She swipes the notepad from the older woman’s hands.

And with that, Carrie is kicking herself off the wall and out of the kitchen, into the main part of the diner. You silently pray for the couple that now has to deal with a moody and pregnant Carrie. 

See? Now, this is what you mean! No mechanic or receptionist at Billy’s Auto Parts will ever be willing to face an alleged-annoying couple for their coworker. Sometimes, waitressing can take the light and happiness out of you once you’re clocked out, but at least you’re surrounded by the half-decent people in your town.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Judy calls out with a wicked laugh. “Gotta love that girl… hey can I have a bite?”

You frown, knowing you’re already unable to say no when Judy is stressed and you know for sure that the confection in your hand is enough to sweeten even the most stressed—Jim just has that magic to him. “Yeah, but don’t make the dent obvious.”

You think you’re gonna spend the rest of your break with Judy, hiding in between the two walls in the corner of the kitchen until Carrie comes back. You lick a small sprinkle off the cupcake, ready to ask the woman if her daughter won the spelling bee that she’s been freaking out over all week, when the office door swings open and Lenny’s head peeks out, eyes going to the first two waitresses that he can spot.

“Hey!” he shouts yours and Judy’s last names to steal the attention. “Can one of you guys go out and get Evan? Her daughter’s principal is on the phone.” He wipes his sweat-stained brow and doesn’t wait for a response. “Thanks,”

You and Judy look back at each other. And immediately you know that you’re not going to make Judy be the one.

“I got it,” you say with a soft smile. “... You’re gonna eat the rest of this are you?”

She laughs and swipes the cupcake. “For you, my love, I wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you.”

You blow her a kiss, already making your way to the double doors of the kitchen, straightening out your ponytail and getting your waitressing voice ready (patient and respectful, garnering the best tips you can try to get). Your eyes give one swipe across the diner, catching Carrie’s eye as she talks to the couple sitting down beneath her, holding her precious bump to make a show of it. She gives you a sly wink and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Afternoon rush makes it hard to spot Evan at first. His smaller stature makes it even harder to spot him in the crowd, but your eyes eventually zone in on him smiling at customer that is blocked by a family getting up to leave. You smile upon finding him and make your way to the table.

As you get closer, you finally notice who Evan is speaking two, and your brows pinch quizzically. The man is hunched, looking over the menu with sunglasses adorning his face despite his table not even facing the sun. His jet black curls curve around the lines of his face, making his features harder to notice. It almost reminds you of the movies you watch late at night when you’re munching on diner leftovers on your couch, the runaway criminal stopping for a bite to eat while trying to flee the state. 

“Evan,” you say softly, not wanting to draw attention to yourself but you know it's already bound to happen since you’re switching places with him. “Lenny’s got your daughter’s school on the phone. They’re asking for you.”

The man’s eyes widen. “Great,” he mutters, “What do you think it is this time?” “I hope she said ‘fuck you’ to that little pipsqueak again,” you joke, seeing the anxiety in Evan’s eyes at not knowing why he’s receiving a call during work. You remember the first time he got called to his daughter’s school from work due to her cursing out an older boy: the entire kitchen was laughing—Evan included—as they all wished him good luck with that meeting. “Can’t be worse than that.”

He sighed, turning back to the customer, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m going to hand you off to her for a bit.” He says your name to further introduce you two. "Thank you for your patience.”

And for the first time up close, you look at the sunglassed man and smile. Perfect teeth flash at you, mildly astonishing you at how cute he looked when he did so. It’s not abnormal for you to find a customer attractive (it’s human, we’re human), but you don’t think a smile has ever made you secretly stop you from breathing for a second. 

Flustered, you’re clumsy as you and Evan switch spots. He pats your shoulder one last time, muttering a thank you as he rushes to the back. You follow his movements and frown for a split second and forget your task at hand. You hope his daughter is okay. You hope the kitchen will be laughing in t-minus three minutes over the fact that little baby-Evan gained a new curse word under her belt.

“Sorry,” you say, looking back at the man. You find him looking directly at you, knowing only because of how his head is positioned. His sunglasses are too tinted to even see a little beneath. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

“Oh—uh, yeah,” he stammers, before clearing his throat and offering a crooked smile. “Coffee, please. Milk and two sugars.”

Your handwriting matches the pace as he speaks. You hold a smile on your face to keep up pleasantries. “And have you decided what you would like to eat?”

“Not yet,” he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the menu. “Kind of hard to focus.” There’s a pause before he adds, a little quieter, “The menu’s got a lot of… options.”

You raise an eyebrow, tucking your notepad in the small pocket of your apron. You turn your head to see if anyone else is making coffee right now. You see Carrie there, and silently celebrate when she’s already staring at you. “All good. I’ll get your coffee ready and be right back–”

“—Wait.”

Your brows pinch, confused. “Yes?” His hand rubs the back of his neck, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I was just, um… wondering if you had a favorite on the menu? Like… if there’s something you always recommend. Or—” He hesitates again, “Or like your favorite?”

You don’t know why he's so flustered. You don’t know why it makes you flustered. For a beat, you just look at him. Is he… trying to flirt with me? The thought isn’t unwelcome, but you certainly weren’t expecting it, or really believing it just yet. You tilt your head, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.

“Well,” you say eventually, “We have an all day breakfast, and that’s my favorite part of the menu, and I get it a lot. It’s on the next page.”

You wait for him to turn the menu, but he continues to stare back up at you, mouth agape.

“... Is that something you’re interested in?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” he replies immediately. And then, more composed, “Yeah, I can be in the mood for breakfast.” He finally flips the page, and his head tilts up to yours fleetingly.

“Great! Our cook, Jim, makes the best strawberry and white chocolate pancakes, so that’s what I would recommend from the breakfast menu.”

His lips tug into a small, bashful smile. “Sounds perfect. I’ll take that.”

“Perfect!” you grin, scribbling his order onto your notepad. “I’ll take this to the kitchen, and have your coffee ready soon!” You flash him one more look before retreating back towards the kitchen. You finally get to look back at Carrie, who is still looking at you, this time arms crossed.

“How was the couple?” you ask when you’re about to pass her.

“Annoyed them enough to leave.” She grabs your wrist, and you just dodge the yelp that wants to escape your lips. “Do you know who you were just talking to?”

You freeze. Her grip is firm, her expression serious enough to make you hesitate. Your gaze darts briefly toward the dining area, but you stop yourself from looking back at him. The last thing you want to do is risk being caught gawking.

“I... no?” you whisper, unsure of how to answer. But even as you say it, you feel a subtle heat creeping up your neck. The weight of eyes on your back makes your skin prickle, as if the mystery man somehow knows he’s the topic of conversation.

“Why don’t you go check the newspaper in the locker room and get back to me, yeah?” she finally lets her grip go, smirking like she knows something you don’t.

Carrie's words linger repeatedly in your brain as you hesitantly allow yourself to drop off the man’s order, and then to go see whether or not you’re serving a serial killer. 

You slip the stripped paper from your notepad to Colin’s hands. “Table thirteen,” you say in passing as you make the rest of the way to the locker room, not even Judy’s cheerful wave as she smiles with a cupcake still in her hand can stop you from the mission you have decided to go on.

Upon entering the locker room, you gaze zeroes in newspaper lying flat on the bench, its closed pages teasing you with potential revelations about your current customer. You hesitantly flip it over as you come face-to-face with the front headline 

HIT AND DIP: ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON LEAVES IN HASTE AFTER CHICAGO SHOW 

Your eyes widen as they lock onto the grainy photo accompanying the article. There’s no mistaking it. The guy at table thirteen. Eddie Munson. Rockstar. Your customer. 

For the first time, you finally see his eyes. But instead of him taking his sunglasses off to reveal his brown hues, you see them straight on in the form of a camera flashing and printing onto the paper right in front of you. He looks borderline pissed as he’s gripping his guitar and shooing the paparazzi in the background away, the picture managing to catch the split-second that his eyes meet with the camera.

“He’s hot.”

You jump, clutching the newspaper to your chest as you turn to meet eyes with Judy casually leaning over your shoulder with a grin.

“Judy!” you hiss, sighing in relief. 

“What?” she says plainly, “He is.”

“He is also currently Evan’s customer on table thirteen that I now have to serve.”

Judy’s pupil’s dilate. “Oh shit.”

You want to make a joking comment, calling Judy a cougar, but you’re interrupted by Carrie peeking her head in through the door. She looks down at the newspaper in your hands, and then back to your eyes. “Told you,” she says, her smirk from earlier still on her face.

Before you can respond annoyingly, Jim’s voice blares through the back. “Order up!” he shouts. “Waffles for thirteen!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets.

“Jesus, do you ever slow down?” Carrie yells out the door.

They hear Jim’s “No!” and fan out back into the kitchen.

“Good luck, my love,” sings Judy.

“Can you ask for an autograph?” asks Carrie. She motions to her belly and gives it a soft pat. “She’ll think I’m real cool!” 

“Ha, ha,” you roll your eyes, already holding the order as you kick the double doors open, passing back into the diner. You try your best to calm your heart as you pour coffee into the kettle, taking sugar from the side of the counter and putting two teaspoons into the mug. You feel eyes on you the entire time, and you don’t need to look up to know whose covered eyes they belong to. 

It’s not every day that you get to serve a goddamn celebrity, so she thinks that everyone should give her a break (she’s specifically talking to her heart—it needs to stop beating so rapidly, making her brain think something is wrong).

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hold the plate on one hand, and the mug on the other. “Just a customer,” you whisper under your breath, beginning to walk. “Just a ridiculously famous, incredibly good-looking customer who better leave a stunning tip.”

As you approach table thirteen, you notice that Eddie shifts slightly in his seat. One of his legs bounces under the table, and he drums his fingers lightly against the edge of the booth.

You \ set the plate and coffee down in front of him, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Waffles and coffee,” you announce, sliding the plate and mug onto the table with practiced ease. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake—too much, anyway.

Eddie leans back, grinning up at you. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Your heart stops. You couldn’t help but think his eyes hold a knowing look, like he knew exactly what went down and now knows that you know exactly who he is.

“Enjoy,” you grin back. 

Behind you, you hear him mutter something under his breath, followed by a quiet groan, and you can’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest that he enjoyed what you recommended to him. 

The rest of the rockstar’s stay goes smoothly. You don’t intend on saying anything to give away what you know, despite it probably already being known, and you're grateful by this normalcy. You refill his coffee, make light conversation (the weather is particularly sunny and pretty today, shining through the windows and letting pretty glow spread through the diner), and take his plate when he’s wiped it clean.

You don’t even think much of his stay, mind already going back to it being a regular customer that deserves no more or less attention than anyone else is supposed to.

(Sure, his smile lingers in your mind a little longer than you’d like to admit—so what if his smile is better than any that you’ve seen, anyway?)

It isn’t until Eddie’s up and left and you trail back to the table to wipe it off, a damp rag in hand, do you notice the wad of cash left in his wake that is definitely worth more than his bill.

Your jaw drops down, staring at it and contemplating what to do with that much of an amount of money in front of you.

Next to it, a folded napkin sits.

Your mind immediately goes to an autograph; that he’s one of those celebrities, and he just couldn’t resist leaving a little something to prove of his appearance.

You’re taken back when you unfold it to see his number scribbled messily onto the fabric. Your fingers shake as you move your thumb to fully read the note that he added at the bottom,

Call me. Please. :)

[imistyou2]

Tummy bulge. c.sb

pairing: switch!Soobin x Noona!reader

warnings: sex. like that's about it. sub! soobin, a lil dom! soobin if u squint. basically switch lol. MINORS DNI!

summary: Your usually obedient junior, Soobin succumbs to his biological tendencies when he sees what his cock does to your body.

This is part 2.5, you can read it as a stand-alone too

Part 1 Part 2

_

Lately, you've been more encouraging when it came to having sex with Soobin. What started off with his pleading moans and teary eyes from the first time you guys had sex turned into something frequent. Something ravishing. He would see the hungry look in your eye as your hands would snake around the nape of his neck during your shared classes. Pointy fingers massaging his skin and you inched your body closer and closer to him to the point where your breasts pressed plush against his bicep. It was a tale-tell sign that you wanted him, wanted his cock, the very thought sending the younger man into a mental frenzy.

Soobin's cock was no joke, you had made sure to verbalize this over many instances. From raving about the size to teasing him and getting him to blush red to ultimately rolling your eyes into the back of your socket when his thick girth enters your slicked-up pussy.

The tip of his cock had a velvety texture, shaped like a mushroom, growing red and pulsing tenderly as you played with his nipples or kissed his neck, sometimes even talking dirty to him, reminding him of what a loser freak he is. Oh, Soobin loved it when you did that, he would do anything to fall into your submission and let you play with him however you pleased. With the increase of sex, Soobin's grown bolder, fiercer with his strokes.

You usually played with his head as he would gently pry open your insides, thrusting in softly to match your breathing before increasing the pace on your voice of command. The grip on his black locks would tighten as his cock fully entered you, even with all your slickness, the stretch was a bit deafening before his rhythmic thrusts and desperate moans would drown out the slight pain.

He would keep his eyes closed, head tilting back from the sheer feeling of your gummy walls, but one time his eyes peeked open amidst his ecstasy and he saw the expression on your face. Despite your dominating attitude, your face curled into a look of pure bliss from his cock, a thin string of drool lolling from the side of your bitten lips. Soobin's heart somersaulted in his chest before his gaze peered down.

Holy shit. A distinct bulge appeared in your abdomen every time his cock thrust inside. His eyes widened tenfold, mouth agape from what he was seeing. He couldn't believe it was him making his noona like that- all needy and whiny and bulgey. He's so used to your bold attitude and as much as he loved that, he didn't mind seeing your softer and submissive side from time to time. Without waiting he would increase his pace, rocking into your cunt with great speed.

"AHHH~~ Soobin what the fuck. When did I ever say you could go that fast?!"

"Fuck, Noona you feel that?" He placed his long fingers around the bulge, trying to cup it as his hips stammered. He was close and seeing your body stretch like this for him didn't help. "Noona, am I making you feel good? Look at the way my cock's stretching you Noona, look at that bulge."

Your eyes looked forward to seeing where his hand was and as a matter of fact, there was a huge indentation, something trying to protrude out from your lower belly. Your cunt grows wetter from the thought of his cock rearranging your insides so deliciously. His hips pound into you, intense concentration to make you cum from his cock alone.

"Shit,shit, shit just like that, make your noona cum, Soobie. Yeahhh."

You reach your climax and so does him, painting the insides of his condom with the thick liquid. With a few more thrusts, his hips slow down as his sweaty head falls past your shoulder and onto the pillows. His hips still keep working, rolling slowly but not stopping. This was a different version of Soobin from what you have seen in the last four months of being involved with him. You've gotten to know he's a fast learner, adapting himself to your liking and what makes you feel the best.

"What has gotten into you today Choi Soobin, doing things when your noona hasn't even told you to?"

His head turns to the side, facing you. He gives a coy smile as you raise your brow in amusement. His lips curl, "Just saw how I made you feel and couldn't stop myself, Noona."

"Oh, stop-!"

You both burst into giggles, not before you've pinched his sides lightly and he yelps out, "Sorry ma'am, won't do again! Hahaha!"

Well, you certainly won't mind this side of Soobin again, you can't wait to see what more riles him to take charge like he did today.

-

a/n: unedited per usual :) tummy bulge + soobin is like water at 3 am.

[mister0ctopus]

apart-mental issues part 1

mini series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: Neighbor JK x Reader

Summary: Just your awkward and embarrassing encounters with your next-door neighbor, Jungkook. This story has three parts.

PART 1 of 3: burrito warrior fuck my life 5 stars thin walls tangerines what's in the box? mission: possible perfect! easy fix

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Mini Series, Neighbor JK, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 3.6K

a/n: inspired by when i moved to my new apartment and my next door neighbor wasnt jungkook :(

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeeee!!!

🌯 burrito warrior

You did it!

After months of endless scrolling, awkward tours, and disappointments, you finally found the one—the perfect apartment!

No roommates? Check!

Near the bus stop, grocery stores, coffee shops? Check!

Near your school and work? Check!

Modern apartment with high-tech amenities? Yeah, not check. The building’s slightly dated exterior gave away its age, but hey, it was well-maintained and had that cozy, lived-in charm. So,

Vibes? Check!

It’s your first night in your new apartment, surrounded by a sea of sealed boxes ((except for a mattress you’d laid on the floor). You feel accomplished. The drive from your old place was a nightmare, and you’ve got exactly five boxes with you, mostly clothes, books, and some appliances. Everything else is apparently still “on its way”, thanks to online shopping apps! You’re so ready for this fresh start. New apartment, new life!

You’d even spotted your next-door neighbor earlier—a tall, cute guy with arm tattoos and a sharp jawline. An eye candy wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t seem to notice you as he checked his mail while walking to his door, and you were glad, given your limited social skills.

After a much-needed shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel and waited for your food delivery. Starving, tired, and ready to crash, you finally heard a knock at the door.

AAAhhh!!! My buritooo!!!

You had added a note to your order to leave the food by your door. When the knocking stopped, you sprinted to the door, too hungry to think straight.

You opened the door to grab the paper bag, but just as your fingers brushed the edge, your foot caught on the doorframe, and in an instant, you were slipping. Your arms flailed, grasping for anything to steady yourself, but it was too late. A loud thud sounded as your feet hit something heavy, followed by another crash.

Disoriented, you blinked and found yourself on the floor, head resting awkwardly against the door. Your towel clung to your damp body as you processed the scene: the potted plant was on the ground, soil scattered everywhere���and somehow, all over you. You groaned in disbelief, covered in dirt, your towel the only thing that kept you from being fully exposed.

Shit. Fuck. Great.

You didn’t move, your eyes squeezed shut in disbelief. The floor was cold against your skin, and as you stayed perfectly still, wishing this wasn’t real, a door swung open.

Your next-door neighbor.

Tattoos, sweatpants, an oversized shirt, messy hair—and ogling at the crime scene with his round, shocked eyes.

"What’s going on? You okay?"

His voice was calm but obviously concerned, which, honestly, was fair considering the sight before him: you, lying on the floor covered in dirt, a broken pot wedged against your feet, soil scattered everywhere. One hand was desperately clutching your towel—because, of course, dignity—and the other was gripping a bag of burritos. Oh, and your hair was still wet.

It’s like a storybook with no text—just look at the scene and you’ll get the plot.

“Oh, uh…” you gestured at the mess. “Yeah, fine. Just… gardening at midnight. It’s a thing I do.”

He leaned against the doorframe, huffing. “Cool hobby. Very niche.”

You huff.

"You need help? Didn’t break your spine or something? Here." He didn’t wait for a response, just offered his hand like it was the most casual thing in the world.

But you were too embarrassed to process any of it. You didn’t want help, didn’t want to exist, didn’t want to be perceived at all.

“Nope, I’m good. Just gonna lay here for a while.”

You wished you could just sink into the floor.

"Alright," he said, shrugging as if he’d offered you a hand, not a whole rescue mission. "If you say so. Holler if you need help, I’m right next door, as you can clearly see.”

He disappeared back into his apartment, leaving you on the floor with shame, dirt, and your burrito.

Never speaking to anyone here again? CHECK!

Once the coast was clear, you carefully got up, trying to shake the soil off your body, your towel clinging to you like it’s the only thing keeping you together. With a frustrated sigh, you reached for the door handle, but as your hand gripped it and you gave it a shake, you realized—it was locked.

You rattled it again, more forcefully this time, but no. It was still locked.

Locked out.

In a towel.

At midnight.

With a burrito in one hand.

“Fuck my life.”

🖕🏼fuck my life

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

You paced the hallway, trying to come up with the best course of action.

Minutes later, your next-door neighbor’s door opened again.

“You still out here?” His voice was casual, and you saw him standing there, now in a gray pajama set, holding a water bottle, looking at you like you were the weirdest creature he’d ever seen.

You tried to play it cool. “Oh, just, uh… admiring the hallway. Great maintenance work here. Big fan of this paint job.”

He tilted his head, clearly amused. He narrowed his eyes, “You locked yourself out, didn’t you?”

You stared at him.

Yes, observant king. Just goooo…

You groaned. But you try to sound optimistic “Yes, I locked myself out. But it’s fine! I’ll just wait here for the landlord in the morning.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head as his eyes scanned you up and down. "At midnight? In a towel? Freezing?"

You gave him a pained smile, doing your best to hold it together despite the chill creeping through your towel.

Leaning against the doorframe, he gave you a look that said he was mildly bothered by your situation. "I’ll call the landlord, but knowing Mr. Kang, he’s probably gonna pick up in the morning." He paused, then added, “Wanna borrow some clothes or something? You’re gonna freeze out here."

Before you could respond, he vanished inside his apartment. A few moments later, he reappeared with a pair of gray sweatpants and a hoodie, phone pressed to his ear.

"He’s not answering, but I texted him. Hopefully, he’ll see it when he wakes up. They should be able to send someone as early as 6 am.”

As soon as you had the clothes in hand, you quickly threw on the hoodie. It was so big, it reached your knees, so you skipped the pants altogether. It smelled so good you wonder what laudry detergent he used. Meanwhile, he was still fiddling with his phone, his eyes focused on the screen.

“You have no one to call?” he asked, clearly trying to come up with a plan to help.

You didn’t have anyone to call. Your friends and family were either overseas, or hours away, but you didn’t want to get into that. So instead of answering him, you decided to with your genius idea and ask the question that had been floating in your mind.

“I haven’t asked for your name. I’m YN,” you said, offering an awkward smile.

“Jungkook,” he replied, his attention still on his phone.

“Jungkook,” you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. Then, with a serious face, you asked him, “Jungkook, would you be able to help me if I asked you to break my door down?”

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 5 stars

"Alright, let's do it," he said, cracking his knuckles.

Jungkook was game. No hesitation. When you casually suggested the idea of him breaking down your door, he didn’t even blink—like he was waiting for you to say it.

He popped his phone into his pocket and strolled over to the door like he did this sort of thing on the regular.

You blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he replied, smirking like this was the most casual thing to do. "If you want the door broken, we’ll break the door. Let’s keep it quick, though. We don’t want to wake the neighbors.”

“Alright, door’s all yours,” you said, stepping aside and plopping down on the floor.

Jungkook was already squatting by the door, eyeing the lock with way too much focus. You, on the other hand, were sitting there, happily devouring your cold burrito.

He took a step back, raised his shoulder, and rammed into the door.

It only took one, or maybe two, solid hits before you heard the satisfying crack of the door frame giving way. The door literally flew open, and you casually took another bite of your burrito.

He stood there, hands on his hips, clearly proud of himself. "Easy peasy, lemon squeezy." He glanced at you, asking, “You good?”

You gave him a thumbs-up, chewing slowly. “Yeah, excellent work. Five stars. Thank you.”

With a grin, he answered you with a thumbs-up and said, "Welcome to the neighborhood," before heading back to his apartment.

You strolled into your now wide-open apartment, finishing off your burrito.

That night, you used some boxes to keep the door “locked.”

The next morning, you opened the door to find your landlord standing there with a toolbox. He blinked at the door, taking in the wreckage.

You shrugged. “Sorry. Had no choice. Next door helped me out.”

He scratched his head before getting to work on the lock. When he finished, he gave you a pointed look. “Just… try not to have any more emergencies with the door, okay?”

You smiled. “I’ll try my best.”

🎧thin walls

You started to settle into your new place. There were still a few pieces of furniture you hadn’t assembled yet, but it was starting to look homey and feel cozy. You adjusted to juggling school and work, finishing the classes you postponed last year to finally graduate.

But every time you remember your first night, you wince.

Almost naked, dirt all over you, lying on the floor like you’re auditioning for a disaster movie. Embarrassing. Okay, fine, the burrito part was kinda fun, especially when he casually broke down the door…

You even reenacted the part where you were lying on the floor, just to see how ridiculous you looked.

The incident kept replaying in your head, and the more you thought about it, the worse it seemed.

You couldn’t shake how embarrassing it was.

You were thankful to Jungkook, sure. He basically saved you, like some kind of real-life Spider-Man, but why, instead of just thanking him like a normal person, are you avoiding him?

You’ve been dodging him for weeks now, and every time you even think about it, you feel like sinking with the floor.

And because you had been avoiding him, you became familiar with your next-door neighbor’s usual activities—what time he left for work, when he normally came home, whether he had visitors over…

Sometimes he’d have friends over. You assumed they were playing and/or drinking because of the cheers, banter, and sometimes you’d hear them wrestling (?), based on the violent slaps or panicked “ouch, ouch, I’m sorry, please put me down, Jungkookaaa!!!”

You knew he had the same friend group because you had already recognized them by their distinct laughs. There’s the windshield laugh, and then there’s the one with the high-pitched, sharp, hysterical laugh that’s always accompanied by clapping.

Thin walls.

They could be pretty loud, but they usually wrapped up before around 11 pm.

One night, when you had to wake up early for class the next day, you were kept awake by a girl’s high-pitched, giggly voice.

“Oh my god, Jungkook, stopppp,” she squealed, clearly not wanting him to stop at all.

Then came the sounds you really didn’t need to hear—the soft creak of a mattress, her breathy moans, and a muffled, “Fuck, you’re so good,” that made your stomach churn.

You groaned, stuffing a pillow over your head. “Fucking hell!”

This continued until dawn.

The next night, it happened again. Different girl, same obnoxious volume. This one was louder, theatrical, like she was auditioning for something.

“Jungkook!” she gasped, her voice echoing through the walls. “Right there, oh my god—”

You shoved your headphones in, blasted “Deep Layered Brown Noise,” and flipped a middle finger at the wall separating your rooms.

This kept happening for two weeks! TWO WEEKS!!! You were so done. Angry and ready to lash out, you thought, God, give me a break!!!

🍊tangerines

You were never the confrontational type. You were more of the passive-aggressive girlie... until you exploded.

So instead of confronting him, you carried on avoiding him. That was until you ran into him on the stairs, arms loaded with groceries in two paper bags.

“You need help?” he asked.

“Nope, I’ve got it,” you lied, seconds before one of the bags tore, and your tangerines scattered across the floor, some rolling down the staircase.

Jungkook sighed, shaking his head. “You good?”

“Totally. Love chasing fruit in public,” you deadpanned, scrambling to collect the scattered tangerines.

He helped anyway, gathering what he could into his hands. “Here.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. You spotted a few tangerines still rolling down the stairs but decided it was fine. You could survive being vitamin C deficient.

“You’re still getting used to this ‘living alone’ thing, huh?” he said, amused.

“Yeah, well, I’ll never get used to having loud neighbors,” you shot back, surprising even yourself.

He froze, just as surprised as you. After a moment of thought, he bit his bottom lip and turned to you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you could hear.”

“Well, now you know. Thin walls. Thin fucking walls,” you snapped, your weeks’ worth of irritation spilling over before you stormed off to your apartment.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Jungkook holding the remaining tangerines he’d picked up from the stairs.

You could tell he was about to say something—his mouth opened slightly—but you snatched the fruits, avoided his gaze, and quickly muttered, “Thanks,” before shutting the door.

📦 what's in the box?

You were just about to shut down from exhaustion as you reached your door after your late-night shift when you noticed a package sitting by your door.

A brown box.

Thinking it was just one of the things you’d ordered, you picked it up and fiddled with your keys to get inside.

But just as you turned the knob, the door to your neighbor’s apartment opened. You panicked, your hands hastily sliding the keys in.

Oops. You'd already locked eyes with Jungkook.

He was standing there, grinning like a devil…

What’s he up to now?

In his hand is also a brown box, and based on the way it was crinkling at the top, it looked like it had already been opened, and you could see pink ruffles peeking through.

He strolled over to you, extending the box, and casually said, “There’s been a mix-up. This was delivered to me. I opened it thinking it was mine since I was expecting a package today, and it didn’t have a name on it, just the unit number. Sorry if I missed that.”

“Uh... okay?” you muttered, still not fully processing what was going on.

“I believe that is mine,” he smiled, casually gesturing to the box you were holding.

“Oh, okay,” you muttered, quickly swapping boxes with him. But the moment your fingers wrapped around your box and your eyes landed on the contents inside, your jaw dropped.

The entire box was full of pink toys—pink dildos, pink handcuffs, a penis-shaped headband, a pink gag, and… was that a penis-shaped stress ball? Who even invents this stuff? Genius! But oh my god.

You checked the box for any details, but nope—no name, just your unit number and address.

“It’s for my friend,” you blurted defensively, but your voice trailed off as the absurdity of explaining yourself hit you. Why are you explaining?

“Sure it is.”

You didn’t have to look at Jungkook to know his grin was now a full-on, teeth-baring smile. You could feel it.

Without saying another word, you quickly turned your back on him and hurriedly unlocked your door.

Once inside, you grabbed your phone, and angrily dialed the number for the suspect—

“Heyyy!” came the cheerful voice of Hwasa on the other end.

“Hwasa, I swear to God!” you started, feeling the panic rise in your chest. “Why did you send bridal party package to my new apartment?? We all agreed to send it to you!! Oh my God, my neighbor opened it, because our package got mixed up! He saw all those freakin dildos! Also, why didn’t they put a name on it?!”

“Girl, calm down! Why you panicking like this?” Hwasa said, her voice as chill as a cucumber. “First of all, I didn’t order it. It was Jen! Or was it Stace? Whatever! And it’s a discreet store, so they don’t slap your name on the box.”

“Make sure to fix this, okay?” you said, voice high-pitched with stress. “Send all orders to YOU from now on! I’m going to die of embarrassment here!”

“Oh my God, chill out! Why you so pressed about this neighbor seeing your fun box? What’s the deal, huh?” Hwasa teased, a mischievous grin in her voice. “Wait—hold up, is he cute? Is that why you’re shy shy?”

“I’ll tell you everything at the party, okay?” you huffed, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Then, you switched gears, like the best bridesmaids you are. “But seriously, we need to make sure Aera doesn’t suspect anything about her bridal shower, okay?”

🎯 mission: possible

Avoiding Jungkook became a serious mission. You had your reasons—perfectly rational reasons, mind you. It wasn’t like you were being dramatic or anything. It was just reason upon reason stacking up like a Jenga tower, each one reminding you why you needed to stay away from him and make sure nothing else added to the pile.

But humor me, you silently asked the universe: why did every encounter with him have to be either embarrassing or irritating?

Fortunately, you knew his schedule by now (thanks to the thin walls, but screw you still): he left just as you were getting up for school, and by the time you came home after work, it was late enough that he was probably already asleep.

No run-ins, no more awkward exchanges.

For three glorious weeks, your plan worked. You didn’t see him. Not once. It was bliss.

Lofi hip hop radio chill.

Jungkook-free, stress-free.

Perfect.

☕️ perfect!

It was one of those days that felt like it had lasted a year. Work was exhausting, your studies were an endless grind, and everything was going wrong. You got home, drained, and just wanted to curl up with a giant cup of coffee to prepare for your next round of studying.

But of course, your coffee maker had decided to just... stop working. Or something. And you had run out of instant coffee. Perfect.

You stood there, staring at it, willing it to work, until you finally snapped.

“Are you seriously kidding me?!” you screamed at the broken appliance, as though it would suddenly decide to come to life and apologize.

Frustrated, you suddenly craved some air, so you grabbed your trash and decided to throw it out—along with the useless coffee maker—and let your anger loose in the dumpster.

But frustration quickly morphed into full-blown rage, and for a moment, you felt like you wanted to fight someone. You were so angry that tears pricked at your eyes, as though crying was the only way to release it. But you wouldn’t.

So, instead, you kicked the garbage can. Only to hit your toes, causing you to squat in pain.

Now you were laughing, because the universe clearly hated you. Yes, definitely Mercury in retrograde. Nothing was fucking working!!!

And then, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned, and—of course—it was Jungkook.

Of all the days.

He gave you a concerned look. “You… okay?” he asked, tossing his trash into the large green bin.

“I’m fine. Just… you know, enjoying the ambiance. Haven’t really explored this part of the building.”

He stared at you, clearly not buying it. “Right. Well, if you need anything... I’m just next door.”

You gave him a tight smile and nodded, because, hey, if he didn’t see you having a full-on mental breakdown, it didn’t happen, right?

He didn’t see it, right?

🍬 easy fix

The next morning, you woke up with a headache and an overwhelming sense of dread, bracing yourself for another long day. You got ready, but as you stepped out of your door, you froze.

There, sitting neatly beside it, was your coffee maker. Placed in a box, looking all shiny and clean.

And taped to it was a note, written in neat, handwritten scrawl: “It was an easy fix – JK.”

You blinked at it for a solid thirty seconds. What the hell?

You picked up the coffee maker and set it back where it belonged, plugged it in, and saw the ON button light up. You stood there, clutching your chest, staring at the note.

Jungkook had fixed your coffee maker. Just like that. He never had to, but he did. Out of the kindness of his heart?

This was... sweet? Too sweet?

And now, you were feeling things—things you weren't supposed to feel. Things like gratitude mixed with an embarrassing amount of attraction.

Listen... don’t judge, okay? If you’re a child who grew up with busy parents, barely seeing them, and left to tend to yourself, acts of service like this are dangerous.

Because they make you feel important. And loved. And other things you’d rather not name because it’s better that way.

But, you’re feeling things.

And it's making you uncomfortable.

1/3

a/n: lmk in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist. I’d appreciate it if you let me know what you think! <3 Thank you and happy holidays if you’re celebrating! :)

-🐙

[nislost]

unvirgin | chapter 6

warnings: suggestive, people being mean again

(written + smau)

you’re driving back to your apartment after you finished your class. you have 2 hours to get ready and you need to look good. you quickly jump in the shower to shave and take off all that school stench off of you.

after two hours you check how you look in the mirror and you feel good. wearing the two piece outfit your friends voted on that consisted of a tight miniskirt that matched the cropped jacket you had and platform heels because who are you without your heels?

you rush out the door and make your way to the library after you notice you’re 5 minutes late. at least you’ll be fashionably late! you walk into the library searching for the black haired boy and when you do you smile walking your way over. tapping jeno on his shoulder he turns around startled.

“sorry i’m late” you whisper giving him an apologetic smile. “i-it’s fine don’t worry” he whispers before clearing his voice his eyes looking everywhere but you. you giggle at his nervous state before sitting in the empty seat next to him. you noticed he looked good really good…why? well he’s wearing the number 1 kitty cat defeater. gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie.

“so what did you need help with?” jeno asks softly not to bother others around. “everything” you groan “i swear math is my worst enemy” he chuckles at your words. “okay let’s start from the beginning of the topic we’re currently learning” he says as he takes out a stack of textbooks from his bag causing your jaw to drop.

your reaction makes him giggle which in return causes you to pout. “stop laughing at my pain” you mutter. you prepare mentally and physically for the time you’ll be spending here.

30 minutes in your brain is hurting and you’re completely frustrated. you begin working on a problem jeno gave you until your ears pick up a conversation behind you “omg did you see y/n with jeno?” one voice says “omg yeah i bet she’s trying to get into his pants” the other voice replies with a giggle. you can’t blame them you have a reputation, but it doesn’t give them the right to talk about you like that. “she’s such a fucking slut. poor jeno” the first voice says.

jeno notices your mood change and the conversation behind him. “i heard she fucked the principal and that’s why she’s here” they just kept going. they were wrong the reason you even got into this university was because you (kinda) tried in high school. don’t get you wrong you never studied or anything you just did the bare minimum and that got you a 3.4 gpa.

your friends wondered what happened since then and it’s just because you lost motivation and wanted to have more fun, but look where that landed you. you get up from your seat causing jeno to look at you confused and worried. you give him a smile “i’ll be right back” you state before you walking over to where those girls were.

seeing you in front of them made them shocked “what? you can talk shit about me behind my back why not in my face” you raise your brow waiting for them to respond. they just look at each other before one of them finally speaks up. “w-well it’s not like we’re wrong! look at yourself you dress like a prostitute” she spits out. the other girl taps her friend and points somewhere behind you. you turn around confused and see jeno.

“what’s going on here?” he asks. both the girls in front of you begin to stutter “n-nothing” “nothing at all! we’re just talking about how much we love y/n’s outfit” you roll your eyes at their words. jeno just hums in response before grabbing your arm and taking you back to your table. “anyways let’s continue our tutoring. don’t let anyone distract you.” he says giving you back your pencil.

you sigh before continuing solving the equations given.

2 hours pass and you’ve grown tired. “do you think we can stop for today?” you ask letting out a yawn. jeno chuckles before nodding. “oh i forgot to ask earlier but what would you want in return for you helping me? money, food or something else? i’m okay with doing anything” you turn to him. jeno ponders seeing if there is anything you could possibly help or do for him.

“can- no never mind that’s too embarrassing to ask for” he says blushing and looking away. this interests you a lot and makes you wonder. “just ask i already said id do anything” you say softly somewhat implying something. “i-i can’t” he stutters his nervousness makes you grin. you place a hand on his thigh to “comfort” him and it causes him to flinch. “jeno you can tell me” you pout tilting your head. he looks at the hand on his thigh then up at you.

“i have no experience…in you know” he mutters because you could hardly hear him you lean in closer “repeat what you said louder” he looks at you all flustered which makes something purr and it’s definitely not your pet cat at home. “can you h-help me um” he groans “take your time baby” you giggle. his ears perk up at the nickname you didn’t even realize you said.

“can you um unvirgin me?” he says softly looking at you with a vulnerable expression. you can’t help but giggle “unvirgin? seriously?” he looks at you embarrassed. “jeno are you sure? wouldn’t you want to save something like that for someone special?” you giggle again “i have no experience and everyone around our age has at least done it once and all my friends tease me” he looks at you with a pleading gaze.

“fine. i’ll unvirgin you, but only if i pass a math test. just so that’ll give you time to think this through” you stand up. jeno quickly nods before standing up as well and walking you to your car. “u-uh ill text you about our next session” he stutters slightly which makes him want to punch himself. you nod before driving off.

previous / next

taglist: @jenoleeaesthetic @yukisroom97 @4yunogf @iloveyou200 @antifrggile @t-102 @n0hyuck @cigarettesafterjae @bellymellyyyy @dudekiss3r @puzzlepiece-mp3 @nctdreamchaser @snoopyjimin @taeeflwrr @whothefvckami @minkyuncutie @sungsgirl @sunghoonsgfreal @toroufriteh @cookydream @flamingi @purrzitas @grassbutneo

[cuubism]

Can I pressure you to work on the 'having a job sucks ass' math AU fic?

yeah 😂 i started working on it when i was annoyed with my job. which is always

here's a snippet from earlier in the fic, because i think the later part i'm working on won't make a ton of sense out of context

[ make me work on one of my fics if you want ]

-

Dream shuts his laptop as Hob approaches. Oh, yeah. He was definitely waiting for Hob, specifically. Hob is getting the sense that he’s in trouble. And he’s not stupid. It’s not hard to guess what has Dream upset.

“Look,” he starts, “don’t even—”

“Hob Gadling,” Dream interrupts. Yep, that’s the trouble tone, the one Hob used to get when he did shit like giving himself a concussion playing pick up football on the quad. “It is ten p.m.”

“I own a watch too, Dream,” Hob says tiredly. Does Dream think he wants to be working this late? He’s just trying to stay employed.

Dream’s lips press into a thin line. And Hob knows him well enough, can read him well enough to recognize that what’s underneath the annoyance is concern. But what exactly does Dream expect him to do about it?

Hob sits down—more like collapses—into the armchair diagonal to where Dream is on the couch. God, what he really wants is to just fucking face plant into bed, not deal with this.

Christ. When did he start thinking about talking to Dream as dealing with?

Then again, this is less talking to Dream and more arguing with Dream, and he fucking hates doing that.

He scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s far away, alright?” he argues, though it sounds more like a whine. “It’s not like I can teleport.”

“It is not acceptable that they keep you so late,” Dream says. Then his tone softens. “I worry over your level of exhaustion. That is not even mentioning the commute.”

“Honestly, the commute’s not the worst part,” Hob says. “Gives me more time to get stuff done. Or fall asleep.”

Dream gives him a flat look. “Precisely.”

“I don’t want to hear judgment about work ethic from you of all people,” Hob snaps. God, he hates arguing with Dream, he hates it. It’s not like when they bicker. And it’s not like arguing with anyone else. The thought that Dream is upset with him is genuinely distressing.

“I think I of all people am uniquely qualified to give it,” Dream says.

He’s not wrong. Dream is a workaholic if ever there was one. It’s something Hob’s had to talk to him about in the past. Frequently, in the past, Hob was the one who was better about it.

It’s just that having this job is a level of relentless he couldn’t possibly have anticipated.

Hob can’t just quit though, even if he is overworked. It’s a good job, career-wise, and it pays really well, and he wants Dream to be able to keep his post-doc position without worrying about the salary because Dream is just quite frankly not cut out for anything where he isn’t able to work independently at least ninety percent of the time and Hob doesn’t want to see him suffer, and he wants them to be able to buy a house someday��

“Look,” he says, before Dream can suggest that he actually quit or something, “Dream, we’re making fucking bank, okay?”

Dream raises an eyebrow. “We are?”

“Yeah, we’re married, or did you forget?”

“It’s your money.”

“The joint bank account says otherwise. Half of it is yours.”

Dream frowns, then gets a wicked look in his eye. Oh no. “Does that entitle me to half of your suffering as well? Do I get half a say in whether it continues?”

“That’s not the point—”

“Are you going to watch me suffer half your exhaustion and do nothing about it?” Dream challenges, steamrolling right over him. He’s impossible to argue with when he really gets going. And great, now he’s employing that look. That pleading look that he knows Hob can’t say no to, eyes wide and helpless. “Will you leave me to my agonies?”

“Alright,” Hob says, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Enough. Stop joking around.”

“I’m quite serious. I don’t wish to see you suffer.” He crosses the room, kneels in front of Hob’s chair, and takes Hob’s hands, bringing them down from his face. “Your unintended comparison was more apt than you realize. When you prosper, I prosper. When you suffer, so equally do I.”

“Should have been a fucking poet instead of a mathematician, Dream,” Hob says. It shouldn’t come out as bitter as it does.

Except— “Maths is poetry,” he says, echoing it just as Dream says it, too. Hob had known he would.

It makes him smile, that he can predict Dream like that.

[blkkasa]

Basketball Player! Connie x Instagram Model! Black Oc

Summary: you being his number one biggest fan (🤭)

Contexts/Warnings: a short-long fic, modern, short smut, fluff, famous instagram model black oc (Aya), a well-known basketball player connie springer, etc.

Notes: i made this because i missed writing fics and stuff but keep in mind... this is my first time writing a fic on this app so don't expect it to be perfect in any way.

Word Count: 1232

"GO CONNIE! YOU CAN DO THIS"

He heard his girlfriend's voice and smiled while playing basketball. Everything about her motivates him to do anything, and all thanks to Sasha for introducing them to each other.

Aya and Sasha are sitting at the bleachers watching Connie from a distance but Sasha is having a problem getting no responses or answers from her other best friend.

"Aya, have you heard from Mikasa lately? Like... she isn't answering my calls or texts and here I am asking you where she's at" Sasha gets annoyed at her phone and looks at Aya like she's finna throw a fit at her.

"No girl. I haven't but if you do please remind me because... I need her to help me out picking outfits to wear for my next photoshoot next week."

"Oh don't worry bestie, I'll let you know but thanks for trying though. Ugh! Mikasa needs to answer her phone these days" Sasha whines.

Aya giggles at her friend's complaints about her best friend. She receives a message from her mom telling her to call her little sister at 5:00. "Okay mama..." She rolls her eyes while liking her mom's message and putting her phone back in her purse.

(2 hours later) The game ends and Connie's team wins.

Aya runs up to her boyfriend and gives him the biggest hug yet.

"Baby I'm so proud of you" She kisses him as she says this.

"Thank you mamas. I love you princess." He smiled at her and they both walked to the door by the lockers where the boys can grab their things out of their lockers.

"I'll wait out here while you grab your things."

"Okay beautiful" He winks at her.

Aya was worried about everything, her mom, her friends, and especially her boyfriend. She thought about what would happen tomorrow since it was going to be a long day. She scrolls on her phone looking at her friends' and celebrities' posts, liking them as if she hasn't been active on there since three weeks ago after her last photoshoot. Connie comes back with his things and sneaks behind her to give her a hug and give her neck kisses.

"Hey love, I'm back and I also have a surprise for you at my house" He smirked, loving everything about her.

" Oh? A surprise? For me?" She giggles

"Yes for you mamas" He chuckled and grabbed her by her hand and they walked towards Sasha.

"You're so sweet, you know?" Aya looked at him with glee and kissed him on his cheek.

"Yes princess" He kissed her hand and smiled.

"OH SHIT HEY GUYS" Sasha looked at them and hugged them

"Yo sasha wassup" Connie hugged her back and they did their little signature handshake.

"Hey sash" Aya winked at her

"Oh my gosh. You guys are would never believe what just happened to me"

"What happened?" The couple looked at her confused and interested at what Sasha was going to say.

"So... this beautiful man came up to me and asked me out on a date and bro. When I tell yall, i was screaming. I WAS SCREAMING but not to loud" Sasha was smiling so hard and cheesy about this dream boy.

"Okayyy boo" Aya cheered for her

"Oh shit sasha has finally found her a guy" Connie laughs

"Okay... not too much" Sasha rolled her eyes and smacked him by his arm

"No but in all seriousness he better treat you right or ill beat the shit outta his ass. Like i don't fucking play that shit" Connie huffed.

"Connie, chill... it's fine" Sasha chuckled

Jean and Eren came by them after communicating with the team.

"Wassup guys" The boys came towards them

"Oh shit is that Aya??" Eren looked at her and hugged her

"Heyyyy renn" She hugged him while jokingly slapped the back of his head and ran behind connie from him.

"OW???" He looked so shocked to the point that he didn't even process what just happened to him.

"my bad" Aya laughed

The group walked to the parking lot and said goodbyes to each other.

"Hey babe?"

"Yes mamas?" He turned to look at her while walking to his car.

"So... this morning after you left, my mama called me about something and i wanted to ask you... are you available next week? Because I asked my boss if you would like to participate in my photo shoots?"

"Really??? Yes, pretty girl, anything for you" He kissed her and opened the door for her.

"Yayyy omg" She hugged and got inside his car.

Connie got inside the driver's seat, buckled up, and drove home. He grabs her thighs and squeezed them while focusing on the road. Aya groaned a bit and moved his hand between her legs, letting him do the work. He gets to the red light and looks at her while putting his hand inside her pants. She groaned a bit louder after he rubbed her cunt, looking at her and smirked.

"You like this huh mamas?" He winked at her and rubbed her cunt a little faster.

"Ngh... yes" She moaned.

The light turned green and before he drove home, he drove into an empty parking lot where nobody could see them.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, removing his hand from her beautiful cunt while letting her remove her seatbelt, and got on top of his lap.

They made out for 10 minutes and removed all their clothes off. They switched places and he began to devour her.

"f-fuck! connie.... a-ah!" She gripped his neck for support while her legs were around his shoulders.

"You taste so good mama... shit! i could do this all day with you princess" He kisses and licks her up until she cums. He devoured her for 5 minutes. He kissed her thighs and bit them giving her bite marks.

"c-connie.... oh! you f-feel... s-so good... ngh!" She looks at him with teary eyes while he fingers her.

"ngh... mamas... you look so damn gorgeous crying for me, fuck...!" He fingers her faster until she cums on his face.

"FUCK" She cummed all over him.

They sat back to their seats and heavily breathed for 5 minutes trying to get their breaths back.

"Hey pretty girl, when we get home ill run us some bath water and order pizza. okay?"

"Okay babe." She blew him a kiss.

Connie looked at his phone checking any messages his friends or family sent him. He received 100 messages from the gc, 20 messages from his mom, and 5 messages from Jean.

"Shit. That's alot of fucking messages" He sighed.

Aya giggled at him and put her clothes back on while he did the same. They drove home without saying a word to each other.

(20 minutes later)

"Hey princess, I got your surprise in the room. go look" He carried her inside the house and put her down on the floor to take their jackets and shoes off.

Aya walked to their room and saw flowers, chocolate, candles, two presents, and an envelope on their king sized bed.

"OMG!! FOR ME?? THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY" She hugged so hard and gave him face kisses.

"Yes babe everything is yours, who else would i give it too" He laughed and kissed her face.

"It doesn't matter. all i know is that this stuff is mines" She smiled and closed the door.

@blkkasa

Notes: so if yall want visuals of Aya, Connie, and their fits in this whole fic then let me know cause I got yall. Also, let me know who i should write about next when i upload a poll, okay? thank you babes 💗.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Fast Car (Tracy Chapman)

You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere/Maybe we make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere/Any place is better, starting from zero got nothing to lose/Maybe we'll make something, me myself I got nothing to prove

So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car/Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk/City lights lay out before us/ And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder/And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged

You got a fast car/Is it fast enough so we can fly away?/We gotta make a decision/Leave tonight or live and die this way

"I know it's an obvious one but YOU try playing it without crying I dare you"

"I cant explain the yearning but this makes me howl"

"OH GOD the longing!! The yearning in the recurring central image of the narrator and her lover on the highway, feeling this sense of limitless possibility and incredible hope!!! And then the verses take us with brutal efficiency through the collapse of their marriage, the way that the cycle of poverty stomps down on their hopes, and how with nothing left, the narrator does what her mom did and leaves!! Leaving the kids to experience the same thing she did growing up!! But it’s all punctuated and bookended by these callbacks to that central iconic memory of hope!!!!! But by the end we realize that the last line “leave tonight or live and die this way” offers only the illusion of a choice: when the narrator first runs away and later when she leaves her husband and kids, she’s still fulfilling her role in this cyclical generational story. God!!"

Never Love An Anchor (The Crane Wives)

I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel/I am all the things they might have said to you/Do you ever think of me and my two hands/And wonder why they never soothed your fevers?/And wonder why they never tied your shoes?/And wonder why they never held you gently?/And wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?

"This song. this song is from the perspective of a parent, speaking to their child. about how they failed them, how they weren't there for them, out of fear of doing it wrong. they were an anchor to their child's ship, so they pulled away, and maybe they regret it now, but it's far too late. ALSO the guitar riff is meant to mimic the gentle rocking of a boat (or a parent's arms) and that shit has NEVER left my mind"

Fast Car submitted by @smallboyonherbike + @uchihasasukeofficial + @all-our-exploring

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

Got a weird little chapter where the perspective shifts from Megs to right back to Star. I swear dude, when i write these peeps I can't help but slip a bit of TFP into them. It was my first fave after all, and it often fills in some of the cracks for me. Oh and also a bit of Armada energy or a bit of other stuff from things i've heard/seen from comics and shit. Totally mish mash inspo admittedly.

[also side note: I don't necessarily ship op and meg, I mainly used the partner title as platonic and referencing that Megs doesn't rlly see him as his leader per say. I kinda like to keep the ship ambiguity much like the shows do tbh]

But yeh, first a short bit of Op and Megs talkin about our seeker creature. Then we see said creature fucking around with the chaos powers and getting into a bit of trouble. It ended up a lot more brutal than I initially outlined it i must admit-- but don't worry! After this insanity, the bots actually might realize how much of a non sustainable solution it is to keep Star in there.

Previous Chapter: An Unwanted Sequel

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: The Illusion of Freedom

Chapter 7: A Broken Boogeyman

“I just don’t know, Optimus.” 

Megatron leaned against the steel bars overseeing the cameras with crossed arms. He’d been loitering in silence for quite some time as he observed Ori–Optimus, type away at the databanks. Prowl and him had been working rather constantly in the effort to locate the ship the Decepticons had stolen. But Megatron had asked him to relocate his efforts to this access point to their system, so that they could keep an eye on Starscream.

“About what?” His old friend finally inquired. The mech surely knew of what he spoke, yet was merely prodding him to further explain his thoughts.

“Starscream.” Megatron gestured towards the caged seeker on the screen, even if Optimus wasn’t looking at him. His former second was just pacing as he so often did, but he also seemed to be intentionally calling upon that unstable power Megatron had seen him carry. “His recent behavior bothers me.”

“That so?” Optimus removed his servos from the keys and turned to face him as a show of his attention. “What about it concerns you?”

Megatron stared at the monitor a moment before sighing and refocusing his gaze upon Optimus. “The aggression. It is less like him to lash out in the way I’ve witnessed as of late. When it comes to his anger, I've known him to often be more… snide, than explosive. Do you suppose it has to do with the corrupted Emberstone incident?” A rather vague question, yet he knew his partner would understand the full scope of its implications. 

“I suppose,” Optimus followed Megatron’s previous gaze to the smaller corner of the large board of screens displaying the seeker for a moment. Of whom looked to be rambling about something, and punching the wall in a little tantrum. “It is rather odd. Even so, should it not bring you comfort that he is within our custody? He poses no threat from here. Or is it perhaps a more personal matter to you, Megatron? Did the conversation you two shared not go well?”

“It went as well as it could. We have…never been quite good at…talking.” Megatron tapped a finger against his plating in thought. Starscream had always held a particular seat in his mind through the years. He kept him on his toes, even when Megatron hadn’t wanted him to. “I know it seems like he is secure at the moment,” He continued, “yet I cannot help but question how long it will be until he manages to escape and continue on with his questionable goals. I had tried to determine what his next move could be, but he still eludes me with his backwards talk.”

Optimus hummed and slowly began to resume his typing, now only half focusing on his work. “Would perhaps, upping security ease your mind old friend?” 

“Perhaps…” Megatron contemplates this offer. What more security could be implemented? It seemed useless to station someone outside Starscream’s cell to just sit there when they could be useful elsewhere, especially when they already have eyes on him from here. Plus, he could just use someone’s presence as an opportunity to trick them somehow. Obviously then, Megatron would be the best suited for such a station, but that was not going to happen. Prowl would likely not trust him for the task. They may have gotten on slightly friendlier terms, but one act in battle could not wash away centuries. Well…that statement could be debated on circumstance, he supposed. But that was a worn out topic in his processor.

“Regardless, I can assure you, that even if he does somehow escape as he did before; we will be notified immediately.” Optimus’ antennae tipped back only slightly, in a way that informed of the ridiculous smirk the mech no doubt brought to his faceplate. “You should not worry so much! Maybe all you need is a walk in the sun. That is what the humans say is a cure-all for a dower mood! We have been stuck in this stuffy rock for quite some time, after all.”

Megatron chuckled, “If you are going to try and send me off on some frivolous nature stroll, then I will be forced to drag your workaholic aft out there with me!” He removed himself from the steel ledge guards and made his way by Optimus’ side to punch his shoulder. “You need it just as much as I.”

Optimus rolled his eyes and glared with a fond grin at the playful threat. “That may be so, but my responsibilities as leader would not allow me such things at this time.”

“Preposterous! Shoulder the load to someone else. You cannot rust in here while insisting I take leave.” Megatron put his hands on his hips like he was talking to a sparkling. Which his old friend very well could be sometimes.

“I will not simply pass my burdens upon my comrades for my own pleasure, thank you.”

Megatron groaned, “Oh don’t phrase it like that.” 

Optimus sighed and brushed Megatron out of the way to reach a different conduit. “It is accurate. Now unless you intend on assisting me with my work, you should decompress elsewhere for the time being.”

Megatron’s posture drooped slightly as he watched his partner continue on in his mission. The fool was always so focused on others. Putting so much pressure on his plate alone like he was the soul force that kept the planets aligned. Sure, he occasionally relied on others quite well. But in these past years of working alongside his partner, Megatron had seen just how absurdly stubborn the mech could be.

He knew the Prime would want him to simply heed his word and not pry further, as per their conversation about Megatron’s tendency to question him perhaps a bit too often. Even so, this was different. A matter of a concerned compatriot enforcing a bit of necessary self-care. Whether the mech would be mad at him or not was an irrelevant notion, and could even be quite amusing.

So Megatron began to extend a hand to take the Matrix driven mech’s arm, “Come now Optimus–”

When suddenly, the alarm blared obnoxiously through the base. Megatron’s helm immediately shot to the monitor to see a cell filled with nothing but a bit of ash and a barrier littered with chaotic sparks.

Starscream was gone.

***

Starscream paced back and forth across his prison in a rather short path. An intentional stride, as he found that the less distance he allowed himself to travel, the more it lent to instead increasing the tension within him. That was what he needed. Calm wasn’t going to get him out of here. 

Frag having a cool head. Any rational plan would just come back to blow up in his face. No, they’d expect that classic, clever, scheming Starscream. They’d surely predict any little uselessly intricate plan he could concoct, and crush it, if his own Primus damned processor didn’t accomplish that first. 

Red lightning was steadily increasing in intensity across his frame. Good.

No one had visited him after his horribly done exchange with Hashtag, and that had left him with plenty of time to focus on finally getting a better handle on Quitus’ curse. It thrived off of anger, spite, and destructive thoughts. Starscream had that in spades! If it wanted him to disintegrate the structure housing them, or crush the mechs caging him into sniveling lumps of slag, it was about time it helped him do it. 

“You will do as I command or so help me Quintus–” Starscream hissed at the crimson air as he flexed his shaking servos.

“Planning on showing the world just how dangerous you truly are, Transformer?” Mandroid was right by his peds with his absolutely revolting amalgamation of parts and flesh before him. “Prove me right.” The wretched pest had such a mad grin on its squishy faceplate and a taunting tone that made him sick. Making the power surge in his spark. 

Starscream yelled in a rather embarrassingly feral manner as he launched a fist down upon its helm–head–whatever the damn human had! Even with his new found speed and electrified assault power under his control, the illusion managed to escape into whatever Pit it had spawned from. All with an infuriating laugh. He thrusted a fist into the wall to test his strength against it, before turning to survey the little space he aimed to destroy.

“I will never take orders from a human.” Starscream growled at the phantom. “I will use this power because I need to. What I will prove, is just how capable I am no matter what these fragging fools throw at me!” He began to laugh. “They think… They think they can cage me like an animal. That they can just mock me, and leave me to rust away out of sight from whatever pathetic fantasy they think they’ve created for themselves out there?! They think they can leave me behind as they praise the oh so beloved LORD Megatron– DO THEY? She thinks I am WORSE than HIM, does she? Oh… but I can be so much better…”

The power shot through his frame and out from his peds, causing him to yell in surprise from the sudden shock. He panted unevenly on his knees as his wings shook painfully, pulling a servo to his helm to grip the edge of his optic. No… he couldn’t focus on revenge right now. He just needed to get out. 

“Mm… Regardless…” He dragged his impaired frame from the floor with an addled voice box, slouching far much more than he would like. He felt heavy. He hated it. But it was a necessary evil to lean into this curse’s power. 

Starscream made his way over to the barrier that led into the corridor, and directed the lightning to collect at his servos and shoot into its target. It rapidly spread across the surface which rippled and strained to keep its shape. His spark ached as he forced it out, and finally, the barrier sputtered and shrunk away into pathetic wisps. The controls were sparking wildly and exploded into a stream of smoke. 

He hesitated in the doorway for a nano klick before a siren shrieked through his audials, causing him to yelp and spring into action. His peds automatically tracked the same path they had taken the last time he’d broken out. He wasn’t thinking about whether it’d be predictable. Whether they’d be waiting for him. Or if the exit he had closed off would actually be open again. He was just running. 

And this time, as soon as the force fields began closing behind him, he immediately transformed and blasted through the tunnel. Starscream’s engines shot red as the lightning flickered off his frame. He was going so fast that if he weren’t the exceedingly skilled flier he was, he’d have eaten metal by now. But of course he naturally dodged around every corner and eventually–

No. He needed a missile to destroy the door. But he hadn’t had the time to locate his confiscated weaponry. 

Starscream transformed mid-air to launch himself into a door in a super powered kick. Only a sizable, useless dent resulted. He looked at it in disbelief then turned to survey his surroundings wildly. There had to be another way. He dashed around the closed off room at a blinding speed. There was no other exit that wasn’t already blocked.

“SCRAP! NO NO NO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Starscream desperately shot streams of lightning at the door. Punched and kicked as hard as he could–and it was starting to work! He just needed to focus on the bent seam… But he heard a crowd of noisy pedsteps rapidly approaching his position. They were barking some strings of orders to each other or perhaps at him, but he didn’t care to make out what any of it was. He just needed to–

Suddenly, the space between his wings was burning in an all too familiar way, and his front was thrusted into the uneven wall. Time was up. It couldn’t end this way so easily. There was no way he wouldn’t go down without a fight now. Starscream quickly stumbled to his peds and turned to immediately blast a stream of crimson lightning from his servo. 

The group of bots scattered in surprise, with one blasted mech attempting ridiculously to call out his designation.

“Stop this now, Starscream! You know you are outnumbered!” Megatron was once again so desperately trying to control him. Acting like he knew his limits of what he could and couldn’t do. 

“SHUT UP!” He screamed as he threw continuous follies of the curse’s power at his assailants. “I will not allow you to have the pleasure of taking me alive today to be smelted under your petty gaze! Either I am getting out of here, OR NOBODY IS!” Maybe Starscream could draw their fire at the door behind him, or maybe he could simply disintegrate them all here and now and seize the base for himself. Both flickering visions in his processor paired with all the ways he could leave them as smoldering piles of ash. The siren still wouldn’t cease its incessant whining. 

The surrounding mechs became scattered, and he rapidly made certain to dodge every shot sent his way paired with an equal retaliation. He’d get some shots off, but they were still closing in. He finally managed to get the pink one to stay down, leaving the red femme to see to her companion like a weak fool. Starscream attempted to shoot the pair to finish them off, but was blocked by that slagger Prime with his stupid axe. 

There was still Megatron lurking in his hazed vision, and he redirected his fire toward the bucket head. Yet something bothered him about the roster he saw around him. Where was that blasted bot Prowler? Why wasn’t he here with them? Bumblebee’s absence could be excused, but that tactician’s was far too precarious. Were they planning something?

Suddenly, Megatron and the others slinked a peculiar amount of steps from his position. Something was happening. 

Blasters retracted from the ceilings and began raining relentless fire upon him. He frantically dodged what he could, but was surprised by the unexpected direction, resulting in a hole to be scorched through his wing before he could decommission the blasters. While he was distracted, the Prime attempted to rush him, but he was all too obvious and Starscream dived out of the way with the intent of a counter attack. Apparently, that was what they wanted, because then he found Megatron’s monstrous chassis slamming into him. 

“GET OFF OF ME!” Starscream demanded as he struggled for control. 

“Not until you surrender!” Megatron was insane! The longer he remained in contact with Starscream’s corrupted frame, he was easily in the line of fire to become overcome from helm to ped with the electricity. But he wouldn’t let go. Starscream could hardly move.

“Never.” Starscream growled lowly through his absurdly rapid vents, of which were absolutely useless in cooling the heat burning his spark and processor. He kicked and pulled in practically any effort he could to gain some leverage. Yet right when he had finally freed a servo to try and deck Megatron in the faceplate, of course the Prime had to step in and force Starscream’s servo back to the ground with his axe. A flash of amusement flitted through him at how the reckless leader of the Autobots was less willing to touch him than the ever self-perseverating former warlord.

“It’s over, Starscream. Stand down.” Megatron growled through gritted dentas, and crushed Starscream’s ped as a nice little punctuation to his order. 

Starscream refused to give the silver brute the scream or pleas of mercy he no doubt sought from the action. All the same, he felt like he was about to explode. The power wracking his frame was starting to take its toll. The world was spinning, and the more he continued to struggle, the more desperately he felt the need to be anywhere but in this moment. Well, perhaps not anywhere. Surely he could think of many worse things–scrap that was a bad direction to take that thought. 

The siren warped into a wretched ringing that swirled in his helm. His optics were glitching so harshly that he could barely make out pixels beyond mere silhouettes, and the lights glared painfully. He could feel his vocalizer saying something to his captors, and he could faintly recognize that they were responding. But what were they saying? He didn’t want this power anymore. It hadn’t helped him. It never did. 

“W– tranq–quickly!”

What?

Starscream tried to look at what they were doing as he pushed against Megatron’s servo. It was a needle. They were getting closer. 

He panicked and flailed to the point that he twisted his stabilizing servo out of its socket to allow his upper half the opportunity to slip out from under the mech for even just a moment. But it didn’t matter. He was pinned again and they stuck him with whatever it was.

Of which, rapidly started making every circuit in his frame feel disgustingly limp.

He desperately fought to stay conscious. But just like everything in his life. It was useless.

[cakerybakery]

I stayed up too late last night editing “One Last Plan” and writing. I’m trying to bake ginger snaps but I just want to sleep.

I can’t even write. I wanted to do a short one about Adam finding out he’s hot in hell because he got hit on without realizing it and the guy ran off because he pointed out Charlie and Lucifer and the guy thought Lucifer was Adam’s husband. Then when he tells Charlie she’s like, well you are attractive, and it blows Adam’s mind because he hadn’t been hot in heaven in a long time and so when he did get laid he bragged about it endlessly.

It gives him some confidence and he even jokingly flirts with Lucifer, giving him a very confusing time. Lucifer is still pissed about Adam but now also horny for him.

Lucifer doesn’t know how to act now and Adam is confused as fuck. So he talks to Charlie and she watches Lucifer and out loud is like, oh shit he’s into you.

And she can’t walk that back.

So now everyone that matters knows Lucifer is into Adam except Lucifer who can’t figure out why he’s acting like a moron.

Adam is now thinking about how Lucifer is into him and at first is like, ha ha eww. Then Lucifer does something stupid trying to impress Adam and it’s, ha ha aww. He being charmed without realizing it.

He flirts to make Lucifer look dumb, then he flirts because Lucifer is cute when he does something dumb, then he flirts because Lucifer is really kind of cute. By then it’s too late. His heart is doing little flips and beating so fast and Lucifer really is cute and kind of funny, and sweet.

Adam is walking to the kitchen to get a vase for the flowers Lucifer got him, thinking about how sweet Lucifer is, and it hits him that he’s got a crush.

Maybe he’s a little less straight than he thought.

And maybe he should clue poor Lucifer in too.

[thedrotter]

not-yet-dead-person

silly comic of a conversation in-game i thought was too funny not to make something proper for instead of a doodle ww

(timelapse + wip images (thus silly process commentary in read more if you like artist commentary :3)

i think the sketch looks silly and goofy and funny so i find it important to share with you the mere presence of the faces i drew on it. i drew it on top of the boxes without staying inside its borders because i find my proportions can get wonky if i draw them cropped in a restricted space. and I feel trapped otherwise and i will draw BAD!!! give me spaceeeee to go wild!!!!

the head circles are there for emotional support

very low res speedpaint because truth is the canvas was much bigger than the space where my comic was placed. i didnt account when exporting my timelapse in 720px that that tiny space would look so pixelated ... but it's able to be percieved, so its okay.

(i will now comment on my process and it is not brief sorry)

usually i would try to clean up my sketches and figure out what goes on top before jumping into linework, but since there are multiple panels and drawings i chose to jump into inking right away for the sake of brevity. i just went in with a brush that uses pen pressure and drew what was needed. i added extra line thickness and contrast in areas around the face because it helps direct your eyes there more easily that way.

according to her equipment rei has a chain belt but i only remembered it existed once I was going to color, and i did not like that discovery... I chose to ignore it to maintain my peace. i already have the color palettes for these characters figured out, and i didnt really want to think about a new element at the moment www I tend to overthink those things a lot so i skipped it

the rest is rather straightforward! not that anything else wasn't, but in here i could turn my brain off and sing. linework and sketching require mumbling so i cannot turn my brain off. just block in the characters with a solid color so i can have a mask (something along those lines,) where the color can stay inside. then just color in !!!

Base colors just had slight cell shading on the skin, and for the hair i airbrush a bit of the skincolor in low opacity near the forehead... I'm not sure what it means, but i can look at the faces easier with it somehow. i like the gentle subtlety it adds even if you cant really tell. it makes things look nice.

background was just me blocking in the color of the wall and floor, shade the wall a bit, then slap a noise and free use wood texture on top. work smarter not harder ! yet it took a bit to make it look stylistically fitting with the characters, and even now i think bottom middle panel looks odd. whatever!!!

for the middle panel i thought itd be funny if the background was a solid silly and colorful one to contrast the next panel's sketchy black one. a contrast to how the word widow is seen. on that note my handwritting is not pointy. i gaslighted my hand into thinking that it was indeed pointy in that moment so i could write "not-yet dead person" in letters that didn't seem cute. my hand did not fall for it but it complied anyway

that's basically it! I'm not sure what else i could say that doesn't feel barebones because it really is that straightforward. if you're curious I used clip studio paint for this. only special brush used was for linework (a brush named Lemon Brush), the rest used were just the default. my computer gets the least credit. it was trying to convince me a 20mb file was going to nuke it all the time and hardly let me save multiple times so i do not appreciate it

[daily-jin-madebygenius]

Gosh, keep it down!

The inventor felt a sudden rush on blood in her cheeks, turning them scarlet. Jin was.. Ashamed of these thoughts.

She remembers often picturing scenarios like these in her head. But that was out of fear, back when she hasn't warmed up to Poli. Back when they were yet to think of eachother as family.

Jeez, Jin. That ashamed of admitting the truth?

Unfortunately, her pleas were ignored as Cole only returned to his normal voice. Speaking louder than she'd like.

You know, everyone has their preferences. I'm not judging! I mean, your first time was quite something. Of course getting fingered by the huge hands of your dear babysitter is extreme but it's something that you'd choose. You nearly died during your first sex, so you might have something for getting destroyed.

Bet you'd even suck at his dick if he had one--

Barely did Cole finish talking when a strong smack almost sent him flying on the ground.

At this point Jin was furious with his words. Spitting poison around, risking to spread it to the townfolks and put the two leaders to shame. Put her and her brother to shame. Oh, that is not happening.

Ouch! Damnit baby face, were you working out or something?

For fuck's sake, just close your mouth and move! We're gonna be late because of your shit.

With heavy steps, the inventor started walking towards her destination, leaving behind her old classmate holding onto his head.

How unfortunate that the robocar was near the entire time.

Hey, Poli! Can ya offer a hand real quick?

There's this curmudgeon outside our bank who pleads for a job there. Despite us repeatedly explaining him that the company won't accept him due to his criminal record, he just won't go away. We don't know what to do anymore!

Surprisingly enough, we managed to find his name in our documents. He just happened to be an ex-employee of ours. Now what was his name... Ah, yes.

Matteo Watson

Do you think you can deal with him?

It has been a while.. And Amber certainly gotten a surprise visit from him too, didn't she? I never seen her that angry before.

...

I will. I will bring justice. I'm not letting that happen to her again. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve it at all. Jin has so many ambitions.. And he was about to crush them.

That bitch..

I'll have a little.. talk with him.

Thank you for reporting.

[orcelito]

Super sexy me is so sexy I accidentally set off the fire alarm while baking pie shells for my pumpkin pie. And now I don't know if I should've even baked them in the first place. But well. Too late now 👍

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

[pilonciillo]

i genuinely don’t know how i’m supposed to act at my age

[ghastbutlikegay]

dudes ive hit a point with The Horrors:tm: where im unable to convince myself that any of my friends actually like me

[wiredalienvampire]

Guess who recently watched gregory horror show this week and totally didn't develop feelings for the crusty elderly rat man