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[the-panel-station]

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweaty Palms 1

Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.

Character: Curtis Everett

Summary: You start going to the gym to break old habits, but new things are scary.

Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.

As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.

No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.

You’ve never been to a gym before. You’ve never been to a lot of places. Crowds are not your forte, public places are your personal nightmare, and strangers make your nervous. Everything makes you nervous. 

You can’t hide forever. That’s the conclusion you’ve come to. It's not a very comfortable one for you but if you don’t change, you’re always going to feel like this. Heavy, deflated, lost. It’s hard to put into words the feeling. The world just seems to pass you by, it functions around you, and sometimes you almost believe you’re not really there. Like a ghost, you just watch it without effect. 

The extra fifteen dollars a month isn’t too much of a stretch. You can hold off on your Kindle addiction for the expense. That’s another thing, you need to start being smart, more practical with your money. 

Planning. That’s something you’re working on. You didn’t come without one. You wouldn’t make it past the door without a set of steps to follow. 

You stop by the front counter first. You ask the woman behind it about how to get into the gym. You bought a membership online. She brings up your profile and issues you a membership card, explaining how you can also download the app and register with your member number. You thank her and continue through. 

You walk along the first floor, the leg machines and the rowing machines being worked by the regulars. You find your way to the dressing room on the second floor and enter with your head down. You try not to look anywhere but where you need to. You find a stall and change, packing away your street clothes, then go out to find a locker to shove your stuff in. 

You emerge with your phone and your new smart watch strapped to your wrist. You glance at the face of it. Your heart rate is already elevated. You unlock your phone and tap the app you downloaded the day before. You flipped through the catalogue of beginners’ workouts but didn’t have any of the equipment to do it yourself. It’s cheaper to just come here. 

You go to one of the spaces laid with mats and stop before one of the racks of weights. You stare at your phone in exasperation. You don’t understand, you’re connected to the wifi but the app just won’t connect. You could try on your own but you really don’t know what you’re doing. 

Ugh, why did you even bother? This is just another failure. You try restarting the app and then your phone, aware of the activity around you. Does anyone notice how clueless you look? 

“Hit it or quit it, little girl,” a man startles you as he brushes by you and grabs a large set of dumbbells, the thirty on the side catching your eye. You shift out of the way and press your phone against your chest, the smooth fabric of your shirt causing it to vibrate as if you tapped the screen. “This isn’t the phone club, it’s a gym.” 

“Sorry, I...” 

“There’s a cafe across the street, you can go play candy crush there,” he scoffs, “seems more your speed.” 

“Must feel real big, huh?” A gritty voice nears from your other side, “real heavy lifting there, pushing around a woman.” 

“Huh?” The first man narrows his eyes as he grips the set of dumbbells at his sides and faces the other man.  

He’s taller than you, muscular but not too bulky. His head is shaved and a dark short beard lines his jaw. Similar hair peeks out from the top of his tee shirt and dusts his toned arms. He slips past you, inserting himself between you and the gym watchdog. 

“Bro,” the first guy sneers, “don’t even start with me. You think you can step up.” 

“I’m not stepping up,” the other man defies, “I’m telling you to mind your business. Take your weights and leave her alone.” 

“Pfft, this some sort of date? You know, this isn’t the Olive Garden--” 

The second man crosses his arms, his back to you as he postures at the other man. He’s silent as he stares him down. You can’t see his face but you can feel the tension roiling off of him. There’s a thick lull as both men stand in a deadlock. 

“Got something to say, bud,” the first guy drops the weights and they boom against the floor. You wince and step back, “go on, I could use the work out.” 

“I said it,” the second man utters flatly, unyielding as he looms like a wall between you. 

“Fucking loser,” the other spits back, “you’re really gonna fuck around for that? Have you seen the skin around her?.” 

The man doesn’t respond. He stays as he is, an unmoving sentinel. The other man growls in frustration. 

“Fucking chicken shit, why don’t you speak up, dude?” 

Still no answer. Just a glare. You clutch your phone against your chest, frozen in horror and confusion. You didn’t mean to start a fight. You hate confrontation. 

Suddenly, the man before you jerks as he’s grabbed by the large man. His back hits you slightly and you drop your phone as he latches onto the other man. Everything happens so fast. The man who came to your defence has the other man on his back on the mat in seconds, a knee on his chest as his fists clasp around the top of his tank top. He bends over him and snarls. 

“Christ, bro, get the fuck off of me,” the man on the floor shoves on his arm helplessly.  

You glance around and notice the audience forming around you. Oh no. You look back to the two men. You step forward and tap the closest man on the shoulder, the one who defended you. 

“Please,” you croak nervously, “I don’t wanna get in trouble.” 

He turns his head, glancing back at you with powder blue eyes made bright by the dark row of his lashes. He exhales and lets go of the other man. He stands and puts his arm out as if to keep your behind him. 

“You really want me to repeat myself?” He sneers down at the other man. 

The larger man pushes himself up and scowls, shaking his head and he turns to stalk off muttering, leaving behind his forgotten dumbbells. The other man bends to pick them up and returns them to the rack. You look down at your empty hands then search the floor. 

You reach for your phone but it’s plucked up before you. The man brings it up between you and holds it out. You take it with a thank you. 

“No problem,” he rasps. 

“I... you didn’t have to--” 

“That guy’s an—he's not nice,” he corrects himself and drags his hand over his mouth and chin, “I don’t like bullies.” 

“It’s my fault,” you shrug, “I was in the way. But er, thanks. I'm... I’m sorry.” 

You turn away and look back at your phone. The app isn’t working. It says it needs another update. 

“You need help with something?” The man asks. 

“I...” you peek at him over your shoulder, “yeah, I... I don’t... I don’t usually... it’s my first time.” 

He nods and hums as he steps closer. You face him and show him your phone. You’re jittery as it trembles in your grip. He’s a stranger. Your whole plan was to avoid those. 

“I got this app to help but it’s not working,” you frown. 

“Try the update?” He points his thick, long finger at the screen. 

You tap and keep the phone visible. The app shop comes up and the update button is grayed out. Underneath, italics read ‘this update is not available for this device’. You frown and bring the screen closer to your face. 

“It won’t let me,” you pout and flick your lashes, mortified. How are you this helpless? Why did you have to have a witness? Several. You look around, some eyes darting in your direction. 

“Hm, well, what are you trying to do? You said this is your first day?” He prompts, “I could... I could help out a little. If you need. I’m no trainer, I just do my own thing but I could try.” 

You bat your lashes up at him then look back at your phone. You don’t know what else to do. Your whole plan has fallen apart because your operating system is outdated. 

“I... I’m not very... athletic,” you explain, “so I can’t go very fast.” 

“That’s okay,” he assures you, “I can go slow.” 

“You don’t have to do that. I can figure it out.” 

“I know I don’t have to,” he shifts and peers over his shoulder, “but how about I stay close anyway,” he moves and you can see the guy from earlier staring daggers from a chest press, “just in case.” 

“Oh, I... I’m sorry,” you tuck your phone into the pocket of your leggings, “I made him mad.” 

“Let him be mad. Got nothing to do with you,” he turns back to you again, “I could take you through some stretches and basics; lunges, squats, stuff like that. As best I can.” 

“Erm, I guess... I don’t wanna be in the way,” you rub your neck. 

“Not in my way,” he says evenly, “lets grab some weights first.” 

He directs you to the rack and without a thought you go to it. He approaches beside you as you realise, you didn’t say yes, you didn’t agree to this, but you don’t know what else to do. 

“Start with some twos,” he advises, “and if you’re not getting a good burn, we can up it later.” 

“Oh, okay,” you grab the dumbbells with the large twos on the side. He grabs the twenties. You feel totally inadequate. 

“So let’s get out space,” he backs up and looks around the mat, “here should be good.” He bends and sets down his weights, "for now, let’s put these aside and start our stretches. You don’t wanna pull anything.” 

You nod and place your weights beside you. You stand and stare at him. He’s in good shape. Great shape. He makes you even more conscious of your neglect. You already feel breathless. 

“I’m Curtis by the way,” he steps forward and offers his hand. 

“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name. 

“Pretty,” he says as he squeezes before letting you go. His hand is huge compared to yours and the gap in your strength is obvious just in that small gesture. 

“Alright, easy, slow, arms out,” he extends arms, “roll your shoulders and your head, loosen up.” 

You watch him and hesitate to follow his direction. You hate that there’s so many people around. You don’t want to look stupid. You’re so ungainly and awkward.  

“Try not to think about it too much. We’re all just here to work out, right?” He says and you shy away, embarrassed that he noticed your discomfort. You raise your arms and start the stretches, “good, you’re doing good, angel. Make sure to breath, alright?” 

You roll your shoulders and head and blow out a breath. Your nerves are pinging all over and your muscles are shaky. This isn’t what you expected at all. Your plans fallen to pieces and yet, it’s not entirely a lost cause. 

“Arms up,” he guides you into the next exercise, “on your toes, reach as far as you can...” 

You obey, letting his voice guide you. His deep, calm timber is almost comforting. The even tenor is a stark contrast to chaotic nervously. You can get through this. 

[paper-mario-wiki]

you've mentioned trading for unusuals in tf2 in a googoo moments tweet iirc, any tips on getting started? or should i even start doing that

my first tip is that you shouldnt get into tf2 trading if you want to make money

my second tip is that if you get into tf2 trading you will likely LOSE money.

my third tip is that you should get the steam app and 2FA on your phone, because if you dont then trades will be held by valve for a month.

trading has gotten more difficult as time has gone by, with many trusted third party community trading hubs like backpack.tf, bazaar.tf, and tf2outpost now moving at a slow pace, or outright dead, but still usable and helpful.

marketplace.tf is the place to go if you want to buy keys to trade with. they charge less than buying direct from valve sometimes, and you can use the keys to trade immediately as opposed to having the week long trade lock you get when buying items from the mann co store or steam marketplace.

dont try to lowball people if you are responding to a relatively low price ad. when youre up into the hundreds of keys for a single item theres room for negotiation, but if youre responding to a 9 key low tier demo hat with a low tier effect, youve got no reason to waste the other persons time asking them if they can take 20 refined metal off the top.

with regards to item overpay (which is when you dont have the raw keys/metal to pay with and need to liquidate some items to make up for it), people will typically ask for 7-20% over there original asking price. that is to say, if the price is 100 keys, then the price in overpay should equal something like 107 to 120 keys.

backpack.tf, while updated much slower than it used to, is in my opinion still the best website for finding specific items, or browsing for items you want. it's also got a persistently updated refined-to-key conversion rate that people largely tend to follow for reference with pricing. use backpack.tf/unusuals or backpack.tf/effects as an easy way to browse unique hats, and how much theyre going for.

also, to visualize loadouts and items before actually spending money on them, use loadout.tf as a character visualizer! it's super handy, and also fun to play with on its own.

thats all i can think of for now, but be safe and always cautious when a deal seems too good to be true! plenty of scammers in the waters.

[yuzukult]

from home 03 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 8.1k prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: .......... LMFAOOOOOOOOO SORRY FOLKS I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL... anyways hopefully i copied the right chapter hahahhahahah

“You going to the staff dinner tonight?”

Raising a finger at Hoseok, Jungkook slips his phone from his pocket, skimming through the pages before landing on an app, typing a few things in before he looks up with a saddened expression on his face. “... I guess not.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Why can’t you go?” He turns his phone to show the both of you. 

JEON JUNGKOOKACCOUNT BALANCE: ₩33,258.75

“Jungkook!” You and Hoseok in unison exclaim in disbelief. “How the fuck do you only have $30 in there?” Jungkook shrugs, slumping his shoulders as he leans against the conveyor belt. “My mom hasn’t given me the modeling money yet. Our accountant is still calculating all of my earnings. You’d think with how much my parents pay him that he’d work a little faster...”

“We just got paid two days ago,” Hoseok points out, completely baffled as to how Jungkook was able to go through that money so quickly. “What did you do?”

Standing in the middle of Jungkook’s apartment, you and Hoseok just heave out a heavy sigh, shaking your heads in disappointment. He has new curtains, one that makes it easier for the sun to shine through in the mornings which has been an incredibly huge mood booster for him. His futons now have pillows and a blanket to claim their own. Then there was the fridge— full of almost every type of frozen meal from the aisles of the grocery store. And the pantry was an entirely different story; stacks of ramen, chips, cookies— they were practically spilling.

“Jungkook, you need to learn how to control your spending.” You say with great dismay, skimming through the labels of all the ramen bowls and packets that pile on top of each other. “If you keep going at this rate, you’re going to be so broke that you’ll be living on our couches on rotation.”

His face brightens. “You’d let me live on your couch if I needed to?” 

Ignoring his question blatantly, you start browsing his apartment with Hoseok. His suitcases and boxes remain full of things that he brought back from the estate which has you going through them in pure amusement. “You guys... wanna help me unpack or something?”

“Unpack or something. Either or.” You pull out a velvet royal blue suit from one of the boxes that’s still in its clear plastic jacket for the outer protective layer. “Jungkook, want to give me a reason why you have this?”

“Oh. That’s this year’s Hugo Boss. Haven’t worn it yet, I needed to get it fitted.”

Your nostrils flare at the words. “... OK, so why do you still have it? You’re a lower middle class guy living in a studio apartment that’s still probably being paid by his parents who have a butt load of money so they honestly don’t even know they’re still putting money into this. Why they hell would you have a suit that’s...” flipping the label around, your jaw nearly pops off when it drops to the floor, “₩665,175,000.00? Jungkook, what the flying fuck—”

“What?” Hoseok drops the bag of chips he’s in the midst of opening from his hands. Despite also coming from money, he was never that rich in comparison to Jungkook. “Yeah, Hobi, you heard that right. $600,000.00 buckaroos. That’s the cost of a house right there.”

“The Jeon estate is actually—“ You place your index finger against Jungkook’s lips to hush him. “Don’t even. You need to sell this suit.”

“Sell—“ Breathless, Jungkook looks like he’s going to pass out. “I can’t sell a limited edition suit. It was hard to even get it in the first place! What makes you think I’m going to sell it?”

“Because you have 30 bucks to your name.” You respond bluntly before picking up another suit that he has lying underneath the first. “Or sell this one.”

“Not the 2021 Vintage Gucci Men’s Suit!”

“How— One, how can something be vintage if it’s in 2021? And it’s not even 2021 yet?”

The sun begins to set; the rays peering through the curtains gradually dissipates, leaving the three of you sprawled across Jungkook’s new apartment with clothes splattered on every possible surface in the poorly lit room. He still lacked another lamp, but the one his mother left was going to have to do. The staff dinner plans are cancelled, mostly because reorganizing Jungkook’s belongings has been an unanticipatedly gratifying yet a fraught chore that took up more time than predicted. Jungkook was hoping to attend the dinner, but after seeing how much effort you and Hoseok put in trying to make his living space a bit more comfortable, the hope for going to the event has been pushed to the back of his mind.

“Do you guys want to order take-out?” Jungkook suggests, and both you and Hoseok nod while sharing each halves of the futon. “But we’ll pay since you barely have any money. You can get us next time.”

Next time, which means that you guys want to hang out with Jungkook again. 

To him, this is a huge step in the friendship direction. Throughout the entirety of his life, having friends had never really been a thing. Sure, he had play-dates per request from his mother, but those kids were fans of the stuff he owned, they didn’t even like him for him. It had become a recurrence up until high school, where the replacement for the need for friendship had been occupied with flings with women instead. People hung around him for the image, but he never felt a connection with anyone.

That was, until he met you and Hoseok.

Although he’d known Hoseok from showing up at the same parties, he never actually got to talk to him on this level until he visited the supermarket that fateful day. He was always the fun guy at parties; attention constantly gravitating toward him, whether he liked it or not, and he came from money as well, so Jungkook wasn’t sure if those people were surrounding him because of it. Sure, Hoseok’s parents weren’t as rich as Jungkook’s, but they were pretty high up there and could afford almost anything they desired.

Yet, he preferred this sight of Hoseok. Baggy hoodie and jeans, skin greasy from spending the day at work then coming to Jungkook’s apartment to unpack. He’s nagging at you for taking up too much space, covering the surface area that Hoseok had claimed to be his under an unspoken contract as you frown when he slaps your leg.

He likes this. There’s no gowns and tuxes in a ballroom with hors d'oeuvres worth the price of a car per bite; there’s no young people at a party, getting wasted and high, fucking in bedrooms that they weren’t sure who it belonged to; there wasn’t a dining room full of both family and strangers that attempted to start small talk about things he didn’t care about— there was none of that. Just comfort from people he genuinely wanted to impress and make proud of him. He’s not sure if he’s ever felt this way before and he’s barely even known either of you that long. Jungkook has been spending most of his life trying to fill a void in him and has been unsuccessful. He’s finally feeling like he’s going somewhere.

You and Hoseok finally agree on what to eat and he learns that it’s your favorite. Pizza. Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, spinach with an ungodly amount of jalapeño peppers, Hoseok mentioned earlier that night that your tolerance for spicy foods is stronger than the pits of hell. 

“Jesus, how are you eating this?” Jungkook cries, snot dripping from his nose while Hoseok wipes his tears after taking another bite. You sit there, unfazed, picking up the abandoned slices of peppers that sit in the box, dropping them into your mouth. “It’s honestly not that spicy. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Bitch, we are not being dramatic, your stomach is made out of whatever Captain America’s shield is made from...”

Jungkook’s phone buzzes in the midst of your argument with Hoseok and just from the name on his lock screen, his heart drops. Jeon Junghwan.

There were a couple things in life that Jungkook wanted to attain— the acceptance from Junghwan and his parents being on top of that list. Ever since Jungkook was younger, Junghwan had been the golden child, the rest of the four were just barely making it, arduously following in his footsteps. But he failed, he hasn’t been able to win the approval from him.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Mother is having a charity banquet on Saturday. She would have called you but figured it’d be best if I contacted you instead. Something about ‘inspiration’. Please be at the estate at 7:00PM sharp.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Goodnight, Junghwan.

“Why does he text like an old man?” Jungkook flinches, head turning sideways to meet with Hoseok hovering over his shoulder. “Junghwan, I mean. But cool, I was supposed to go to that banquet too, until I got called on a shift. Luckily you’re not scheduled.”

“Yeah...” He says quietly, seated on the floor as he leans back against the sides of the futon. “This is the first time I’m seeing my family after moving out. I need to plan this out right.”

“Well, what’s the plan?” Cheeks full of fries, you’re munching away on the other side of Jungkook as he contemplates the next steps he’s going to have to make in order to reach his goal. “One thing is for sure. You’re going to be my date.”

The breath has been stolen away from his lungs and his heart feels like you’ve pierced through his chest cavity and squashed it into the palm of your hands. He doesn’t know what it’s called (maybe a blowout) but the way your hair cascades down to your shoulders is marveling. In a black long dress with a slit that exposes the entirety of your legs, his breath hitches when his eyes meet the skin of your thighs, the spaghetti straps drape over your décolletage with the v-cut neckline only finishing it off right. He thinks this is his fatal moment. He’s never seen you dolled up like this before; cheeks brushed with a peach blush, lashes emphasized with mascara, liner that makes you look even more fierce, and lips... so buttery pink and plump that almost wishes he could—

“Jungkook?” He shivers, immediately pushing the thoughts out of his head. You’d probably stab him in mere seconds if you knew what he was thinking about. “H-Hey. You look good.” 

You grin, adjusting the fabric that hangs around your legs. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself. Anyways, let’s get going. You said your brother sent a car for us?”

Even though Jungkook is a model and has posed in magazines in suits, it’s still a surprise to see how stunning he manages to look in person. He keeps his hair casual today, despite the formal attire, but when his fingertips rake through those luscious locks, it makes sense why he went with that decision. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t believe that this hunk was living off of frozen meals and instant ramen for the past week. 

He’s pretty, yet there’s something that you can’t help but loathe about him. 

Jungkook is still from money, despite the amount of times you’ve seen him in the supermarket’s uniform and apron. It’s something you’ve been trying to force yourself to remember when you feel yourself slowly falling into the traps of his smile and looks. The reminder is there when a Mercedes Benz S-Class pulls up and Jungkook isn’t as astonished as you are. The window of the driver’s side rolls down, revealing a middle-aged man who wears a chauffeur’s hat and a grin upon his lips. “Jeon Jungkook, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Hyungjin,” He dips his head in acknowledgement before saying your name, “... this is my date. This guy has been my driver since I was born. Park Hyungjin. He’s going to be taking us to the estate tonight.”

Jungkook opens the back door for you as you slide in with ease, completely in veneration at the characteristics of the vehicle. It feels luxurious, from the leather seats to the center console, and when you see Hyungjin beginning to raise the customized partition between the front and back seats, you’re shocked it can even do that until Jungkook halts him from doing so. “Uh, sorry, Hyungjin, she’s not one of those nights.”

Oh, you think to yourself, this was a routine. His preceding lifestyle is starting to unfold before you.

Arriving at the ‘estate,’ which was something you’d had been stuck with trying to adjust yourself in calling Jungkook’s family home, it’s an unreservedly different part of the home compared to your first visit however a sudden coldness hits your core from incredulity. How could anyone need a home this big? Jungkook guides you out of the car before you could even register the visuals of the home, waving Hyungjin goodbye and brisk “thank you.”

“Hold my hand.” His fingertips brush against the back of your hand discreetly, and as a reflex, you slap him away while he whimpers in pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“Sorry. Habit.” When you try to reach for him again, he opts for resting his palm on your lower back instead, keeping you close. “It’s okay. Is this alright?” You nod. “This is better anyway. We look close yet at the same time professional.”

When you step into the ballroom, you quickly learn that your previous time at the Jeon estate had only been a glimpse of what Jungkook’s sumptuous home had to offer. There’s something of a mezzanine or indoor balcony of some sorts with staircases that branch around the perimeter where a couple people stand idly. The chandelier that you saw in the dining room before was no comparison to what was currently hanging from the ceiling right now— there’s diamonds that hang like raindrops, intricately scattered with clear clarity that only the rich could identify and have the opportunity to see in person. The guests are dressed like those diamonds— sparkles and jewels of women that bathed in the crystals, accompanied by men who simply wore tuxedos and suits. 

But the real stars of the show were the Jeons. With Mrs. Jeon’s hair in an updo, it accentuates her collarbones and shoulders where her dress lies; a beautiful detailed lavender gown that you can already sense the weight of when she drags it behind her. You see where Jungkook gets his genes from.

The filler music from the orchestra that plays in the corner stops, the chattering along with it as they all divert their attention to the Jeons that stand by the railings of the balcony— the four boys and their dates. All that’s missing is Jungkook who stands beside you, hand graduating from your lower back to your waist. 

“Hello, everyone,” Mrs. Jeon greets, a pearly white smile upon her lips. “I am so thankful for your attendance here. As you know, tonight is dedicated toward the Cancer Research Foundation of Seoul, known as the CRFS, and I will be the host tonight but the true genius behind this all is my son, Jeon Jungsik.”

Jungsik approaches his mother from the side, dressed just as well as the rest of his siblings, shaking his head in disapproval. “Mother, I couldn’t have done this without you,” He says humbly, eyes browsing the crowd but pauses when he sees Jungkook with you by his side. There’s something hidden behind his stare, Jungkook hypothesizes, because his modest brother suddenly wants the spotlight whereas previously, he’d be standing in the audience. He can’t tell if it’s because it’s the first family event where he’s sober or if truly there’s something about Jungsik that’s different. “But tonight is a different kind of night. We’re here today not to just donate what we can to a good cause, but celebrating as well. I’m announcing my engagement with Kim Nari.”

An abrupt realization washes over Jungkook.

Kim Nari. The daughter of a tech mogul whose relationship with Jungsik would further advance the Jeon Corporation and skyrocket their profits. Her marriage with Jungsik would link the two companies together, creating possibilities for what seemed to be impossible. Which brings to question, why would Jungsik be interested in Nari? She’s a reflection in the mirror of Jungkook himself— uncontrollable, spoiled, and dependent with no future planned. Why would Jungsik, someone with passions, dreams, and stability want to be with someone like that? Something was up, and Jungkook can taste the bitterness in his mouth.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, but you genuinely don’t care. Anything would be better than listening to conversations that were beginning to start up again at the hasty announcement. Nari has one of her hands sitting upon the rail, waving as if she’s the Queen of England, with a dress that may be deemed inappropriate for a setting like this. It seems that the rest of the family is hearing the engagement for the first time though because Mrs. Jeon looks like she’s going to faint and Mr. Jeon is holding in his anger rather than noticing Nari’s attire.

“Nothing, just... something weird with my brother.” He says before turning to give you his attention again. “Anyway, should I introduce you to my horrific bloodline?”

When Jungkook guides you toward his family members that have begun trickling down the staircase, you’re appearing to have heart palpitations from the suspense. The way the Jeons walk is intimidating alone; shoulders pushed back, straightened posture, and smiles that resemble authenticity on the surface but daggers will be pulled at their disposal if anything goes haywire.

“Mother, Father, this is my girlfriend...” You altogether miss when Jungkook says your name from the sight of his family up close until he squeezes your waist gingerly to capture your awareness again. “Oh, yes, hi,” You bow speedily, “I’m uh, Jungkook’s girlfriend.” Wait. Didn’t he just say that?

“Are you now? Last time we spoke, you said you weren’t,” Mrs. Jeon comments, and albeit her words sound harsh, the draw of her lips upwards say otherwise. It feels a bit forced, but you know it’s from the sudden news coming from Jungsik. There’s a façade of happiness when deep down, she’s disappointed. “We... we met after that night and he treated me to dinner for taking care of him. We’ve been... seeing each other ever since.” 

Mr. Jeon stands there in silence, observing the conversation between you and his wife before unexpectedly speaking up. “Did you attend University? And have you graduated yet?”

Jungkook knows what this is. The Interrogation. Every Jeon child’s significant other has gone through this and you were next. He had completely forgotten about it— mostly because his other brothers had gone through it years ago, and Jongseok’s ‘girlfriends’ had never really been girlfriends, so their dad had given up on that until someone serious came by.

He never thought it’d be him before Jongseok.

“Yes, back in 2016.” You state, fingers fidgeting with the metal chain of your purse. It was a simple question yet the way it’s executed is as if he’s searching for a particular answer.

The older gentleman tilts his head, the space between his brows crinkling in perplexity. He looks so much like Jungkook, except matured with wisdom, and if Jungkook was of any replication of his father when he’s that age, he’d probably still have a line of women after him. “So you’re older than Jungkook.”

“No, father,”  Jungkook chimes in, “... Quite the opposite. She’s actually a year younger than me. Graduated University rather early. Or... well, she finished high school early.” He can see from his peripheral vision that he has captured the ears of his other siblings that stand languidly. “Gifted, really. Child prodigy. Despite all the talented Jeon children, we’ve never had one of those.”

There’s a glimmer in his father’s eyes. He’s impressed. “Really?” His stiff tone has shifted to a lighter one. “Did you study in Seoul? What was your degree in?”

“No, uh, I actually studied abroad in New York after graduating high school. I was about... maybe fifteen at the time? I chose Food Science— I thought about being a Chef because my inspiration is Guy Fieri but someone told me to be a bit more realistic with my brain so here we are.”

Guy Fieri? Jungkook stifles a laugh at your secretive role model, rubbing your sides comfortingly. It’s something to tease you about later, but right now, you have a job to do. Swoon his father.

Mr. Jeon nods, hands slipping into the front pockets of his slacks. “Remarkable. We could use someone like you in the Jeon Corporation.”

Both you and Jungkook choke, clearing your throats at the sudden suggestion, glancing at one another. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m thinking about opening a chain of restaurants, something high end, something different.” Jungkook’s brothers are stepping in closer to listen shamelessly to the conversation, the look of disarray stamped onto each one of their faces as if it’s the first time they’re hearing this information, for the second time tonight. “I would love it if you gave me your take on how to proceed on some things, and help the chef formulate something that makes sense without him cheating me out on prices. Jungkook, tell Maeri to schedule something for us so I can discuss further details.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” You blurt, palms growing sweaty. “But you just met me, and Jungkook and I just started dating. Are you sure you trust me?” It’s another experience of déjà vu; Jungkook mirroring his father’s actions at the yacht party when he claims that he’d pay for your aspirations.

“Of course. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t have girlfriends.”

Just then, someone taps his shoulder and whispers something ineligible into his ear before he turns to you with his hand extended, and you take the offer with a firm shake. “I’m needed elsewhere. It was nice meeting you. Glad to know Jungkook chose someone fitting.” And with that, he leaves.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Mrs. Jeon comments, hand resting on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Seems that sending you off to live alone has brought nothing but good impressions on your father. Keep it up, Kook-ah. I’m going to go accompany him, so in the meanwhile, introduce her to your brothers, why don’t you?”

Turning your body to face Jungkook, you let out the hugest breath you’ve ever held in your entire life. “What was that?”

He looks equally as stunned as you. “I don’t know but that went so much better than I actually thought. I think that was the fastest he’s ever been fascinated by any of our girlfriends.” 

Jungkook’s father had strict outlooks for the company, one of them being that he wanted nothing but pure Jeon blood leading the corporation. This meant that the significant others of any of his children weren’t allowed to be part of the trade. So why did he ask you particularly for a hand in the family business?

“Jungkook,” One of his brothers calls out, your heads sharply jolting at the sound of his voice.

Have you ever watched Boys Over Flowers? When the Flower 4 walk through any entrance, it’s like time slows down and their hair flows through the wind like they’re models?

That’s what pretty much happens.

“Hyungs.” He says; it’s their own version of a hello and the atmosphere between them is tense. “It’s nice to see you sober, Jungkook.”

His jaw tightens. “I wasn’t an addict, just you so know. Made it easier being around you all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” The one you assume is Jongseok from your previous google search waves his hand, disregarding Jungkook’s statement before pointing his finger directly at you. If only you could bite it off along with his rude mannerisms. “Girl toy?”

“Girlfriend,” Jungkook corrects him and his other brothers are intrigued. “This is my girlfriend,...” As he says your name, your eyes immediately are drawn to the woman behind one of the males; shiny caramel colored hair with the simplest white dress that hugs her small waist that still manages to make her look like a goddess with a smile that was so sweet your teeth start to hurt. You recall catching a sight of her in the same magazines that Jungkook featured in and on the posters at the mall whenever you’d walk into a store but how she looked in person was flawless compared to those photos. She was like the real life version of a photoshopped picture.

“This is Hayoung, my brother Junghwan’s wife.”

“Uh, H-H-Hi,” why does she make you so nervous? Do you get anxious around extremely beautiful women? “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” She hums, cheekbones high with her grin. “Kookie never mentioned he had a girlfriend, let alone brought anyone to meet his family before.”

“Kookie?” You reiterate with a mocking tone. He knows you’ll never let him live this down. Least he still had the Guy Fieri thing up his sleeve. “Noona, it would’ve been nice to keep that away from her for a bit. I’m trying to ease her into this madness. She’s probably still recovering from that conversation with our father.”

“As if!” Hayoung counters back. Her husband, Junghwan, wraps an arm around her waist before dipping his head slightly toward you. “I’m Junghwan, Jungkook’s older brother.” He then begins to point at the other gentlemen. “Jonghyun, Jungsik, and Jongseok, respectively.” 

Frankly, it had been a lot to unpack for the night, and you assumed that the boxes back at his apartment were a lot, but this was truly a lot. Within an hour, Jungkook introduces you to almost anyone that plays a significant role in his life and elaborates on each of their backgrounds. 

Junghwan, his eldest brother, is married to the international supermodel Na Hayoung, and he’s the next in line to inherit the CEO position when his father steps down from the company. He’s been trained all his life for this role, apparently, and it’s evident in how he carries himself. Jonghyun, the second oldest, stands behind Junghwan in the company, supposedly his right hand man when it comes to business, joined at the hip although their personal relationship with each other isn’t as close. He’s also married, Jungkook mentions, but his wife is currently very pregnant and at home. He skips over Jungsik, only because you’ve met him over dinner, but he doesn’t miss a beat when he says that Jungsik is purportedly the angelic Jeon. Lastly was Jongseok, the last sibling before himself, and was described as something along the lines of, “the most useless, right after myself, and if it weren’t for his involvement with the marketing department because of his diploma, he’d be living in a studio apartment downtown, cut off from this family too.” Jungkook’s words, not yours.

The night slowly reaches an end, people scattering to leave the estate, thanking Jungkook’s parents for hosting such a charitable event. Just before you’re about to step out along with Jungkook, his mother had her fingers wrapped around your wrist. “Jungkook, you and your lovely girlfriend should stay the night. Downtown is far and your siblings will be here as well. Maybe you can show her to your bedroom? I know you’ve been missing your bed and well... maybe show her around your childhood home.” She pauses for a moment as Jungkook hesitates as you eye him suspiciously before interrupting his thoughts. “Your father wants to speak to you and your brothers in the morning anyways, so it would be nice for you to stay for breakfast, dear.”

“Are you fucking dense, Jeon Jungkook? I do not want to stay the night here.” Contradicting your angry words, you’re already unlatching the attachment on the straps of your heels, sliding them off while seated on the bay window seats of his bedroom, rubbing the soles of your feet. “I’m sorry,” He mutters weakly, falling on the foot of his bed. “I don’t know how to say no to my mother.”

“Well, quit being a fucking momma’s boy and call an Uber. I want to go home, Jungkook.”

“Uber’s don’t run this late at night in the area. We live too far off the grid.”

“Well, then ask Mr. Hyungjin to pull up in his whip and take us home.”

His face drops, a guilty look pooling in his orbs. “We sent him home. He’s technically off on the weekends. Hyungjin only came out because Junghwan asked for him beforehand.”

You grumble, laying back on the cushions, locks tangling along with your mood. “What are we supposed to do here? Share a bed? What am I supposed to wear to sleep? Did you already ask your housemaids?”

“No,” He answers bleakly, standing up. “But I’ll go ask now. In the meantime, you can watch some TV? Then when I come back you can shower and do whatever you need. I think I have a spare toothbrush for you to borrow. As for the bed thing...” Jungkook looks over at that California King that he misses so much. “... it’s more than big enough for the two of us, I’ll keep my distance from you without a problem.”

Before you can counter the suggestion, he’s already out the door.

Perusing through his bedroom, you soon learn that this ‘room’ of his is the size of your childhood bedroom times five with a closet the size of your apartment with a connecting bathroom that was equivalent in surface area.

Then it has you thinking. Jungkook grew up like this, in a life of grandeur where everything he had, he had a plethora of. Whether it be education, belongings, or the aid of people who tended to every need he had, it never seems to run out. He had a driver since he was born while you struggled to learn how to take the bus alone at the age of 7. Or running out of money to pay for a new notebook for class since you’ve been using the same one for the past two grades in order to save cash so your parents could put food on the table. While Jungkook over here was probably tearing down trees in his yard to make all the paper in the world. What about noticing that you were ahead of the kids in your class? No one seemed to have realized it until you said to someone that you were bored, and needed more challenging material when you got sent to the Principal’s office per request, begging to be with the bigger kids.

If you had the money Jungkook had, you would’ve been able to pay off both yours and your parents’ debt in addition to opening your bakery all within the same year. 

But you aren’t Jungkook, and jealousy just runs through your veins alongside the enmity. 

Entering through the housemaids’ chambers was a nostalgic feeling that he couldn’t exactly say was his favorite. Sneaking down here during the late hours of the night for quick sex and running back up to his bedroom felt like such a teenager thing to do at the age of twenty, so he instantaneously gave up on that. 

There’s two wooden doors to choose from. Nayeon, the house servant he slept with several times before realizing that she had falling for him while thinking it was some forbidden love, and Hana... also a servant that he had sex with until she also fell in love with him.

So which one of them would be less upset about him asking to borrow their sleepwear for his new girlfriend?

Answer to that question: neither because they both slammed their doors on him after asking. He should’ve figured that sooner.

Next stop: Junghwan’s room. Maybe Hayoung had something for you. 

He hesitates when he’s standing outside of his brother’s bedroom door. It takes him back to when he was a kid all over again, desperate for his big brother’s attention who didn’t even have enough time to dedicate to him. Taking in a deep breath of courage, he does it yet again, his knuckles tapping against the wood that makes the same knocking sound.

Peeking out, Junghwan looks at Jungkook with a perplexed expression. “Jungkook, what’s up? Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Is noona with you?” He nods. “Yeah, of course. She’s washing her face right now, wanna come in?” Jungkook steps into the room, ambivalent with each movement because he’s never been invited into Junghwan’s room before. It’s almost exactly what his room looks like, except all the shades are dark, varying from grey to navy, with his bed, closet, and bathrooms in the same locations. 

“Hayoung, Jungkook is looking for you.”

“Kookie?” Coming out the bathroom with a robe on, her hair is drenched as she attempts to towel dry it, face pretty even without makeup. “What’s up, bub?”

“Uh, my girlfriend,” He starts, rubbing the back of his nape anxiously because he’s never said those words before, “She doesn’t have anything to wear tonight. I have some clothes, but I think she’d feel more comfortable if she at least has some pants.”

“Tell her to sleep in her underwear, what’s the problem?” Because she’s not really my girlfriend, is what he wants to say, but he takes a different approach. “We’re... still in the early stages. So, uh, you know. She’s shy.” She shakes her head with a smile upon her lips. “Okay. Give me a second. I have a bunch of clothes that I left when we used to live here.” With that, she disappears into the closet.

“I’m... proud of you, Jungkook.” Junghwan speaks up, protruding through the silence. Jungkook just stares in bewilderment, unsure what he even did to make Junghwan say those words he had dreamt to hear coming from his eldest brother. “Other than landing a girlfriend who is definitely way out of your league, you’re actually showing some progress living alone. I honestly didn’t really agree with the plan that Jongseok proposed but... I see it’s working well.”

“W-What do you mean?” Jungkook questions. He still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Junghwan hums. “You were able to find a job yourself. I haven’t seen you coming back begging for money again, and you found someone who doesn’t have the facilities to give you the lifestyle that our parents gave us. You found love without money and I think it really makes a person humble.” He’s fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants now, comprehending that the two of them don’t really talk one-on-one. “I know I changed a lot when I met Hayoung.”

“Kookie, I think I have a couple options for you— whoa, why does it feel so sad here?” She remarks, stopping in the midst of her walk toward Jungkook. “You guys... alright?”

“Nothing,” Junghwan responds quickly. “I just wanted to tell Jungkook that I’m proud of him.” This does nothing but prompt Hayoung to roll her eyes, laying out a pair of shorts and a silky baby blue nightgown. “Junghwan is always proud of Kookie, just not always the decision he makes. Anyways,” She completely brushes off the topic that Jungkook wants to hear, but he’ll circle back to that later. He had a pretty girl waiting in his room who had the temper of the Hulk. “I have two options for you to give her. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll wear the night gown?”

Jungkook scoffs. “If I brought that to her, she’d probably wrap it around my neck and choke me within seconds. Keep the gown, I’m taking the shorts. I’ll let her wear one of my T-shirts.”

“Are you sure?” Hayoung sings and Jungkook tells her he’s almost confident that he’s going to die tonight if he so much reaches the door with that thing in his hands.

Jungkook chucks the shorts at your face while you’re laying on your back on his mattress. “Here you go, Mrs. Fieri. The girls wouldn’t lend me anything because well... I may have slept with them both and they were hopelessly in love with me. Hayoung noona gave me those shorts instead.” He’s babbling on about how rude the housemaids had been when he asked, but you’re canceling his voice out because the coolest chick you’ve ever met just lent you her shorts.

“... Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?”

He snaps his fingers in front of your face but registers that it’s no use. You’re too busy trying to decipher how God decided to gift Hayoung the looks and the personality that you miss when Jungkook leaves the closet, throwing a plain white t-shirt at your direction. It’s huge compared to you, yet seems like it would fit him well. “Go shower. I’ll be in there after you.”

It’s awkward.

So goddamn awkward. 

Jungkook is wearing a black T-shirt of some band you can’t recognize because the majority of the print has been worn off paired with grey sweatpants that hug his ass so beautifully. Scratch that. You never thought that. They look soft. That’s what you meant.

While you’re currently occupied with attempting to avoid looking at Jungkook, he can’t stop staring at your exposed legs and notice how small and cute you are. Soft. It’s tempting him to want to wrap his arms around your frame and snuggle his nose into the crook of your neck while inhaling the scent of his body wash on your skin. He wants to blame it on the dry spell he’s having because all he does is work nowadays that once he gets home, he’s completely drained. Alcohol doesn’t even appear in his mind either. Or maybe he genuinely thinks you’re pretty and having you in his bed doesn’t make it any better.

Sitting on the farthest opposite ends of the bed, Jungkook clears his throat. “See? I told you that the bed is way too big for the two of us. Should be easy to steer clear from each other.”

Wrong. Incorrect. You should’ve known that Jungkook would be fallacious.

The sun gleams through the sheer white blinds of his prodigious windows, illuminating your faces on an unironically Sunday morning, emitting a groan from a stiff beside you. Your body feels heavier than usual, almost like something was pressing down on you. 

You panic. Were you having a stroke?

After forcing your eyes open from the dry boogers, you can’t believe the sight. Jungkook has his arms and legs tangled in the sheets with yours, nose brushing against your shoulder. He’s so cosy, the most he’s ever been, and the warmth from your body is like a different feeling of home for him. It’s comforting like a cup of hot chocolate during the harsh weather in the Winter or swaddling yourself in a blanket in front of the fireplace. Now knowing how it feels to be in your embrace, he’s not sure if he wants to let go.

“Jungkook, please get the fuck off me.” You bite. Cuddling was not what was discussed in the terms of agreement. Not that there was one but having a buff guy curled up beside you that wasn’t actually dating you was making your heart do cartwheels when it shouldn’t be. He doesn’t seem a bit rattled knowing that he’s snuggling up against you because he scoots even closer. “Five more minutes.” He mutters. His dreams of taking in the aroma of your natural scent mixed in with his shower gel were coming true.

You push him off with as much strength as your body could gather, yet you fail underneath those muscular arms. Those big, thick—

There’s one knock and someone just immediately flings the door open with a gasp. 

But then you see them. Jungsik and Jongseok. 

You don’t know why but you care about how Jungsik sees you, but you care. He’s the closest to your ideal type— as unrealistic as it is for him to ever have a relationship with you, especially since he has a fiancé now— yet at the same time, he knows you’re ‘dating’ Jungkook, and whether or not he believes it, you’re not sure, but your chances were already wearing thin as it is, even worse now that he’s witnessing you in the same bed as his youngest brother. You may have a teensy weensy little crush on your fake boyfriend’s brother.

“Cute,” He chuckles, already dressed in his daily attire; grey slacks that crop at the ankle and a navy dress shirt that doesn’t button up all the way, hugging tightly around his pecs that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “Well, we’re sorry for intruding. Father wants us down for breakfast within an hour. Wake up your boyfriend for us, will you?”

“I’m not sorry,” Jongseok adds with a devilish grin before he quickly shuts the door and leaves promptly with Jungsik. Jungkook hasn’t even moved, not even twitching the slightest bit despite his brothers’ abrupt invasion.

You officially hate Jungkook even more... if that was even possible.

There's an abundance of choices for breakfast foods that sits on the length of the dining room table that you had gotten a glimpse of during your first visit to the Jeon estate, more food than you've ever seen in one place. They had waffles, pancakes, sausages, bacon, toast—all that’s expected of a typical American breakfast laid out like it’s a picture from the Food Network Magazine. He has servants, shuffling through in and out of the room, placing plates and utensils in specific detailed orders before they pull out the heavy upholstered wooden chairs for each and every member of the family in invitation. 

"Uh, it's okay, thank you, I got it—" The woman who has her hands gripped on the framing of the seat tightly as she clenches her jaw, has a glare shooting lasers in your direction. Maybe you'd just take the offer and sit instead. She might be one of Jungkook's late night affairs, you never know what she'd do to your food if you didn't comply.

Sticking out like a sore thumb, you settle yourself by your now claimed to-be-boyfriend who sits comfortably in his own seat since he's owned it for two decades now. You, however, it's your first day and you're not even sure how to feel. Hayoung seems to be doing the opposite; eyes shiny from excitement at the sight of all the options that are laid out in front of her. You can agree to her interest, the Belgium waffles that's stacked at the center of the table with a square of butter residing on top makes your mouth water.

"Thank you all for coming," Jungkook's father announces, the chair he's rested on makes him look so tiny at the head of the table. "I want to discuss some matters with all of you and also invite Jungkook's new love into the family. Honestly never thought this day would come where I'd see my most troublesome child make such advancements in a short span of time."

There's reticence along the table, Mrs. Jeon beside him, eyes searching the table for something in particular. "The proceedings with this engagement with Kim Nari, Jungsik. What did you expect would happen with that?"

And there it was. The conversation that had been put off last night due to guests being on the residence. It's because of two of the things that Mr. Jeon stood by when it came to his family and business: no bloodline, no business entrance had been challenged and the Interrogation had never been in place. 

"Father," Jungsik clears his throat, pressing his back against the cushion. "I'll have you know that I'm only thinking of the future of our company."

"Without talking to me about it?" He snaps, agitated. He doesn't even care that a complete stranger is sitting at the table with them. "What gives you the right to be the only person to know what's good or not for the company? Why not consult with Jonghyun and Junghwan? Why am I told that no one knew about this?"

"Well, I thought—"

"You thought wrong." He confirms, and the Belgium waffles don't seem as appealing anymore. His firmness makes your stomach queasy, despite not being his current victim. "Terminate your engagement. You don't love her anyways. I don't need any affiliation with a self-obsessed tech company."

"But father—"

"None of that." He shushes his son, laying a beige cloth napkin on his lap. "I'm tired of having to teach you how we run this business. I gave you a percentage of the company and I expect you to know what to do with it, which is not to share it with some airhead who doesn't even understand what her own father's company does." Jungsik's body stiffened at his father's lecture after he made a decision solely for what he believed was beneficial for the family business. "Anyways, let's eat." 

"Why do you favor Junghwan over the rest of us?" Jungsik spits, fist slamming against the table. The cups, silverware, and plates trembled underneath his strength, startling you. "I can't believe that I let you walk over us for so long. I can't believe that any of us has let you do it. In reality, none of us get your fortune, just Junghwan. What about the rest of your children? Do you have the only one? Or did mother have an affair for the remaining four?"

Yum, drama. You admit you were getting a little bored last night at the banquet, but his conversation was perking you up in interest. Jungkook oddly remains cool, turning to tap one of the housemaids to pour you some apple juice, patiently waiting for the go to eat. 

Jungsik is disparate in this light because he's not the compassionate and gentle soul you had assumed he was during your first encounters and what was seen on the internet. He’s fierce and competitive, in actuality, with this hidden duel behind doors against his eldest brother. The description written of him was all an image that was portrayed to the public and you start to see what Jungkook means now when he says "apparently" or "supposedly" whenever talking about his older brother.

And Jungkook... he's strangely distinctive as well when sitting amongst his siblings. He's quiet, actually, and attentive, but you take note that he mentions before how he often comes to these things under the influence, and that your presence was what halts him from doing so. 

"Just eat. We'll talk privately later." Mr. Jeon says through his gritted teeth, tips of his ears fading red from Jungsik talking back.

"I saw you eying that waffle earlier," Jungkook says in a hushed tone, leaning into you. "Want one? I'll grab it for you."

OK, maybe he wasn't that bad. He knows what you like and he’s getting it for you. You’ve waited long enough.

The Jeons are awfully good at pretending the argument between Mr. Jeon and Jungsik didn't occur. Everyone sits in lull, occasionally exchanging comments with whomever sits beside them but consuming their breakfast with glee. It wasn't something you were used to.

When you're back into Jungkook's room, you slip on a jacket that you brought the night before, zipping it up. "Is that... normal?"

"What's normal?"

"That whole thing with Jungsik and your dad. Do they fight often? And do you guys normally just... sit there and forget it even happens afterwards?"

He slides onto the bed one last time, inhaling deeply in the scent of lavender, wishing he could take this bed with him as he absentmindedly responds, "Mmm. Yeah."

What kind of family dynamic is this? "Yeah? And you just... watch?" 

"Well, what else are we supposed to do? Join in? Take sides? Hell no. It's a different sibling each meal and every time there’s always someone being jealous of someone else. We don’t really get along here and it’s just what we’re used to.”

Treading into Jungkook’s reality was starting to become comprehensible. Almost justifying the way he is, how he’s utterly clueless in basic situations and disconnected he was from the world. Because this is his world; his parents, four brothers, and house full of servants, and he knows nothing outside of it. Their home is completely off the grid, separated from people living regular lives, he even has his own tennis court (you learned from the view from his bedroom), and no one normal has their own private tennis court. His mother has been shielding him his entire life, letting him grow and become a shell of a man in an empty home.

Family isn’t family to him, is what you’ve come to terms with and something he hasn’t yet accepted because he hasn’t seen what a real family looks or feels like. His home isn’t a real home but brimming with employees who work for his family that probably see him more than the people who he called relatives.

It makes you pity him and want to show him what it’s like to be home.

[sirfrogsworth]

I will never not be enamored by gadgets.

I got a sprinkler timer so I wouldn't have to go out twice a day to water my new patch of sod. And I still go out and watch it turn on because my brain gets excited when it works as advertised.

That said, I don't think I was meant to take care of plant life.

I am struggling.

This all started with the idea that I could turn my backyard into a dog park. There is an app that lets you invite people to use your yard and pay a fee. But I needed to get rid of a bunch of overgrown plants and I had to close off the bottom of our deck because dogs could hide under there.

So I hired a landscape guy to remove the plants and put up a barrier around the deck. And that went as planned.

But I also asked him to remove this weird plant in the middle of our yard because I wanted the doggos to have more space to run around.

But this didn't quite work out as I hoped.

One rainstorm later...

So, we got a Shaq's worth of sod and covered the mud pit.

But I have to take care of this sod.

And I am not good at taking care of things on my own.

And I don't really know how to take care of sod.

The first issue was finding a garden hose that would reach out there. All of our hoses are very old. And I tried connecting a few of them together and that seemed to work okay. But I didn't have a sprinkler. So I bought a highly rated one on Amazon.

And it was the most powerful sprinkler in existence. Way too powerful. And setting it up required getting absolutely soaked.

So I got a much smaller sprinkler that only covered the area with the sod. But tonight the spot where the two hoses connected started leaking like crazy. That old hose finally failed and lost structural integrity. But the single hose was not long enough to reach that area. So the only way I could water it was by using this crazy fire hose attachment that I found in the garage. It can shoot water over a 100 feet away.

Like, seriously, Dad... why did you buy this crazy thing?

This could put out oil well fires in Kuwait.

After some sitcom-level antics of trying to attach the nozzle and getting soaked again, I finally got it working and was trying to eyeball watering that patch of sod from the other side of the yard. But it was getting dark and I couldn't really see what I was doing. And when I finished the requisite 20 minutes of watering I went to inspect the sod to make sure the water actually made it there.

And boy did it.

Friends, it was soaked.

Several puddles formed on top of the sod. Apparently that fire hose nozzle shoots out a ton of water and I drowned my little patch of sod.

I really hope I didn't kill it.

I guess I'll check on it in the morning.

This venture has turned into a money pit. It is going to take years of my yard being a dog park to break even. And I don't even know if dogs will come here. I can't even get a handyman to my house.

[flowerxbunnie]

OK BESTIE LISTEN

i heard “roses are red, watches are gold. get on your knees and do as you’re told.” I NEED IT IN A MATT FIC PLEASEEEEEE

okok so maybe matt really reallyyyy wants to spend money on a pretty girl. you sign up on a sugar baby website for that coin, and y’all start talkingggg. he flies you out and books a hotel 👀 there’s a red dress and like a gold and diamond watch on the bed and rose petals and wine, w that on a note. and he gives you a time and place to meet him for dinner and is giving you the eyes alllll night. and yk the resttttt

Sugar Daddy

Matt x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, fluffy ending

@lustfulslxt

DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you and spy from another table? I’m terrified you’re gonna get your head chopped off with an axe,” Jaycee says while lint rolling my dress.

“Girl I promise I’ll be fine. Most of the time these guys can’t even walk without a cane, let alone chase me down with an axe,” I laugh, checking myself in the mirror again. “Plus I’ll have my location on. One bad vibe and I promise I’ll let you know.”

I smile and hug my best friend, pulling away and spinning around to show her the back of the dress.

“How do I look? Think I’ll get a big payout tonight?” I say while raising an eyebrow in a jokingly seductive way.

“Honey I KNOW his wallet is gonna be screaming and crying at him after you’re done with him. Do you have to… you know…?” She does a ring shape with one hand and pokes her finger in and out.

“Fuck him?” I laugh, swatting her hands down. “It just depends. A lot of these guys just want a pretty girl to keep them company. Like some of them I literally just eat dinner with and that’s it. But if they want little something extra and I’m feeling up for it, why not?”

“What does he look like?” she questions.

I shrug before quickly trying to explain it the easiest way I can after I see the worried look on her face.

“So first of all, this sugar daddy app is referral only, so it’s definitely safe. He has to have been referred by another sugar baby, passed a background check, proven he can pay out, submitted a photo of himself to the owner of the app, all that jazz. But it’s kinda like a blind date.. on my end? Like he knows what I look like but not my name.. but I’ve never seen him… I know the first letter of his name… Anyway I don’t know why exactly it’s a thing, but it was created by former sugar babies and I think it’ll be cool to give it a shot!” I spew all this information at her as she stares at me just blinking.

“Oh…okayyy…” she trails off before adding “Please please be safe, Y/n. You know I’m just a phone call away!” She kisses my cheek and walks back to her room.

I pull out my phone and open my messages with M.

-Onyx hotel at 6pm. Reservation will be under the name Adam Smith. They’ll get you in no problem.

Adam Smith causes me to raise an eyebrow, but I order an Uber and sit around for for a while before looking in my full length mirror again, smoothing out my black dress and fluffing my hair. I spray a vanilla scented perfume onto the pulse points of my neck and grab my bag. I dig through it and make sure I still have my pepper spray and stun gun. I know I’ll be fine, the app is super well rated and trustworthy, but you never know what some of these dudes will try.

•••

The Uber pulls up to the door of a massive hotel. I’m no architect but it looks like the doorway is carved from marble. I step out of my Uber and thank my driver before making my way into the doors of the Onyx, a door greeter offering to show me to the desk.

“Hi, I have a room booked under the name Adam Smith.” I smile as the lady behind the desk types into her computer to pull up the file.

“Got it right here sweetie.” She reaches under the desk to get the room key and slides it across the counter to me. “All the way to the top floor, make a right and it’s the door at the end of the hall. Have fun with Mr. Smith,” she adds in at the end, and I swear I can see a smirk on her face.

I make my way to the elevator, now flustered, and press the button for the top floor, my heart beginning to beat a little harder as I realize I’ll be meeting M face to face in a few short moments. Before I can think too hard, the elevator doors slide open. I step out and make my way to the end of the hall, my heels clicking with each step and echoing off the walls. I pull out the room key and take a deep breath before sliding the card into the reader and watching it blink green.

“Don’t fuck this up, Y/n. You need this money.” I think to myself.

I push the door open and I’m met with the scent of champagne and sweet roses. It smells like luxury.

“Hello, M?” I ask, shutting and locking the door behind me.

I’m met with a still silence. I put my bag down by the door and survey the room. It’s massive, marble floors with intricate wallpaper donning the walls. There’s even an office area with a desk, notepads and various office supplies. I notice an open pen on the desk, but I’m honestly too scared to touch anything. It all looks fucking expensive. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see a message from M pop up on my lock screen.

-You make it in okay?

-Yes, where are you?

-Check the bed.

I make my way over to the queen size bed and gasp. I see a red satin dress laid out surrounded by rose petals. It’s gorgeous, way better than the dress I picked for myself tonight. There’s a note beside it, and when I pick it up I find a black velvet box that was strategically hidden underneath the paper. I unfold the note and read the smooth handwriting,

“Roses are red, watches are gold.

Get on your knees and do as you’re told.”

I immediately break out in a blush, smiling to myself just from seeing M’s words on the page. Guess I know what I’ll be getting myself into later. I read further down the note and I see something else scribbled out.

“I’ll be waiting, my lady in red.”

I pick up the black velvet box and open it, shocked once I’m met with a shining gold watch encrusted with diamonds around the face. I pick it up gently out of its cushioning and flip it over, an “M” carved into the gold underside of the watch. Fuck, that’s honestly hot. Marking me already? I slip it onto my wrist gently and fasten the clasp, the cold watch against my wrist giving me shivers but it fits perfectly.

I slip off my black dress and shimmy into the red one, smiling as it zips up and clings onto me like a glove. I feel like pure luxury right now, checking myself out in the mirror before I see my phone light up on the bed.

-Uber is outside. See you soon.

I swear this man is already driving me crazy. He ordered the nicest Uber I’ve ever been in and made sure I had a glass of champagne ready to be poured to sip on during the ride. We pull up to a restaurant I’ve never even heard of and my driver gets out to open my door for me. “Watch your step, sweetheart.”

I walk to the reservations counter and give them the same name I was told to give to the hotel, and I’m led to a table in the back of the restaurant. My heart is beating out of my chest at this point. This is the first blind date I’ve been on at all, let alone with a potential sugar daddy. What if he’s hideous or weird or creepy?

I’m pretty sure my eyes fell out and rolled onto the floor when I saw M. He’s a young, hot brunette with striking blue eyes that feel like they’re burning holes into my skin.

“Your waiter will be over shortly,” the hostess smiles and walks back the other way.

M stands up to pull my seat out for me, but not before grabbing my hand and placing a soft kiss onto the backside, making my heart skip a beat before I sit down and he pushes me closer to the table.

“Not what you were expecting, I’m guessing?” He questions, his eyes locked onto mine with a smug smile.

“No not at all. I mean, I’m not mad about it I just-” I take a shaky breath, trying to calm my nerves before speaking again. “Usually the men I meet are shriveled up and on their last leg. You seem so young to be doing this kind of thing.”

He laughs and nods. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“A lot? So you’ve been doing this for a while, then?” I question, grabbing the glass of water that was waiting on me and take a sip, my berry red lipstick leaving a mark on the rim.

“Not too long. Maybe six months?” He looks up in thought. “Yeah like six or seven.”

“What’s your real name, Mr. M?” I ask in a lower voice, playing up the mystery vibe.

“I’m Matthew… or just Matt. And yours, pretty lady?”

“Y/n. Pleasure to be getting to know you better, Matthew.”

•••

We drink and eat and talk for what feels like hours, getting to know the ins and outs of both of our experiences in the sugar daddy world. I learn that Matthew is an influencer who makes crazy money and doesn’t know what to spend it on. He explained to me that he’s always had a love for gift giving, and when the money started rolling in and he realized he could get any girl he wanted, it combined and spiraled into almost a fetish to spend money on beautiful women.

I surprisingly understand where he’s coming from and we talked about that for a good chunk of the night. I felt like I was kinda playing therapist in a way, helping him see the reasons for why he does these “taboo” things from a nonjudgmental perspective.

After we finish dinner and drinks he orders another Uber and walks me out, opening the door for me and placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me down to my seat. I scoot to the seat behind the driver and watch as Matt ducks down to take his seat and shuts the black car door. I click my seatbelt and look up to see him scooting closer to me and settling in the middle seat, flashing a smirk my way.

The ride back to the Onyx is filled with glasses of champagne and shared giggles while we listen to the Uber driver tell us the story of his life that we definitely didn’t ask for. Matt’s hand nonchalantly lands on my thigh at some point during a giggle fit and I swear I freeze, not out of fear but anticipation. His fingers trail to the inner part of my thigh while his thumb rests on top tracing back and forth, sending butterflies through my entire body. He just looks over at me and smiles before turning back to the driver and egging him on, asking stupid questions like, “So then what did you do once they threw your shit on the street??”

It’s all a blur, his hand wondering aimlessly up and down my thigh with no intention to venture under my dress just yet. His smooth skin catching and reflecting the lights of the city as we journey through traffic. I feel like I can’t really concentrate on the conversation and I barely speak. This man is gorgeous inside and out- it’s like I’ve known him for years. It’s weird and it’s making me so flustered, but thankfully we come to a stop outside the Onyx and I can release the breath I’ve been holding in.

Matt steps out and walks to the driver’s window, handing him an envelope and shaking his hand before stepping towards my door and holding his hand out for me. I grab onto it and I feel a weird feeling shoot across my body just from the simple feeling of his skin on mine. He doesn’t let go as we make our way though the doors and into the lobby. He shoots the lady at the front desk a wave and a smile before we turn the corner towards the elevators.

The ride to the top floor feels like it takes triple the amount time as it did when I did it alone. Matt moves to stand across from me with his back leaned against the wall, stealing glances occasionally. There’s a silence between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s filled with a tension so thick I can almost physically feel it. We exit as we reach our floor and he lets me lead the way.

“That dress fits you so perfectly, sweetheart,” he whispers as he trails behind me.

I can feel his eyes burning into my back as I chuckle and try to keep the blush from spreading across my cheeks. We reach the door to the room and I stop to dig through my purse for the key, but before I finish Matt reaches around me, his chest touching my back, and swipes his own key. His veiny hand turns the handle and pushes it open before we step inside. I sit my bag down on the desk and reach down to take off my heels before I’m interrupted by his deep voice.

“Let me take them off. Sit on the bed.”

“Oh, yes sir,” I say in a teasing voice, raising my eyebrows and walking over to the bed before settling on the edge.

He moves to stand in front of me and grabs my right ankle gently, running his hand up to my knee before placing my heel onto his belt. I watch as his fingers delicately trace the strap around my ankle and find the clasp, undoing it before slipping my heel off and tossing it to the side. He repeats the same actions on my left leg, but once this heel is removed he drops to his knees and props my leg onto his shoulder causing me to fall onto my back and gasp.

He reaches down to grab my other leg and props it onto his other shoulder. His eyes snap up to meet mine, a look of lust written all over his face. I can feel myself starting to throb, a puddle forming between my thighs as he tilts his head towards my inner thigh and brushes his stubble along the tender skin.

I usually don’t get this into the sex with the other men I meet. They’re almost all over the age of 50 with some kind of ailment and it’s just not my vibe. I need the money so I do it, and I won’t lie, I’ve ended up being shocked and enjoying it a couple of times. But Matt has barely even touched me and my body is craving him desperately.

He spreads my legs as his lips cover my thighs in wet kisses, trailing achingly close to my core as he pushes my dress up around my hips.

He looks down at my panties as if he’s an artist admiring his work, running his thumb along the fabric and feeling the arousal that had made itself visible. He meets my gaze and increases his pressure, tilting his head in awe as if he’s poking an animal in a cage. Soft whimpers start involuntarily leaving my lips, my hips rocking against him.

“Fuck, look at you already squirming for me.” He licks his lips and leans forward, flattening his tongue across the fabric causing me to moan and grip the sheets from the pressure and warmth.

He watches as I react and blinks slowly before licking a stripe from the bottom to the top, biting at the hem and letting go roughly. The elastic stings my skin but he quickly places kisses along my skin to soothe it.

“F-fuck, Matthew.” I can’t help but roll my eyes back, going insane from all the teasing.

He uses his index finger to pull my panties to the side, letting out a deep groan when his eyes meet my dripping pussy. He wastes no time before burying his head between my legs, his tongue dancing up and down my core.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he almost whines as he comes up for a breath.

He continues lapping me up and I’m a mess underneath him, cursing, arching my back off the bed, gripping at the sheets, pulling his hair. Anything to release the tension building up in my body.

He pulls back, bringing his hand down and teasing my entrance with his middle finger before easing it in. I moan out as he curls up into my g spot, which prompts him to repeat the motion repeatedly. He brings his head back down to suck on my clit, making unbreaking eye contact.

A knot is twisting in my stomach at the sight of his blue eyes staring into mine, him working relentlessly to bring me to my peak. My legs begin to tighten around his head but he doesn’t fight it. He picks his pace up and begins humming deliciously into my pussy.

“Let me see that pretty face while you’re cumming on mine.” he says breathlessly dipping back down to flick his tongue across my clit.

I prop myself up onto my elbows and stare down at him, and his eyes look like they’re almost begging for me to release.

“M-Matt I’m gonna… fuck I’m gonna cum,” I whine before feeling the tension in my stomach snap and my orgasm flush through my body. I can see the smile in his eyes as he watches me come undone, making a mess of myself while crying out his name and clenching around his finger.

“Was that good, princess?” He asks, standing up and undoing the buttons on his shirt with one hand while pushing his hair out of his face with the other.

“Best one I’ve had in a while,” I pant, trying to get my breathing back to normal.

He simply smiles and slips his button up off, tossing it beside the bed. He grabs both of my hands and pulls me into a sitting position then reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Let’s see how good those pretty little lips look around me, hm?”

I blush and reach for his belt, making eye contact as I undo it slowly and unbutton his pants. I see his jaw clenching as I take down the zipper and begin to tug at the waistband. My breath hitches as his dick springs up and brushes my face in the process. That same smug grin he keeps doing creeps onto his lips as he takes himself into his hand and pumps his cock steadily while looking down at me.

His free hand comes up to grab my jaw, his thumb parting my lips and teeth. He brushes the rough pad of his thumb across my tongue gently a few times before pushing it to the back of my throat, chuckling when I gag and pull away. He slides his head into my mouth and closes his eyes in pleasure.

I grip his base and pump with a twisting motion a few times before taking all I can of his length into my mouth. I begin to bob my head back and forth, stopping at the tip to swirl my tongue around his head every so often. His breathing gets heavier as I run my free hand up and down his abdomen, my nails leaving a trail of red marks in their wake.

He brings both hands into the lengths of my hair and twists it once around his hands before tugging my head back and thrusting himself further into the back of my throat.

“Look at you taking it so well, such a good girl for me,” he groans as he continues pumping in and out of my mouth.

He throws his head back and I can feel his dick twitching, so I pull back and hold my mouth open with my tongue out, ready to swallow his load.

“Ready to take it down your throat, hm? I have something else in mind, baby. Get on the bed.”

“Get me out of this thing first,” I beg, standing up with my back to him motioning to the zipper on my dress.

I feel his warm hands touch my hips and trail up my sides before brushing across my back and tugging the zipper down, pulling the straps off my shoulders and letting the dress hit the floor. I can feel his breath on my back as I feel the clasps of my bra coming undone slowly. I slip it off and toss my panties aside before crawling up the bed. I press my chest to the bed and arch my back as I feel the bed dipping beneath his weight. I feel his presence behind me before two hands come down to knead my ass and give it a light smack.

“It’s like you already knew how I wanted you,” he laughs and pulls my hips toward him.

“Lucky guess,” I giggle, my breath hitching soon after as I feel his hard dick sliding up and down my folds.

He slaps his tip against my entrance a couple times before pushing into me and sucking in a harsh breath.

“Such a tight little pussy,” he says as he bottoms out and holds for a few seconds.

I’m aching for movement so I wiggle my hips back and forth, feeling the fullness and how he feels against my walls. He grips onto my hips and squeezes, pulling out halfway before pushing all the way back in harshly.

He picks up his pace and the room is filled with moans and the sound of our skin slapping together. I can’t help but throw myself back into him, desperate to somehow have him deeper than what’s possible- it feels primal and animalistic. His sweat drips onto my back as he pants and keeps a steady rhythm, and the noises coming out of me are something I’ve never heard myself do before.

His thrusts get slower and slower, more unpredictable, before he pulls out and flips me onto my back, legs wide open for him.

“Touch yourself, baby. Let me watch.” he demands as he stays on his knees between my legs jerking himself.

I bring my hand down to my clit and rub small circles, watching as his eyes rake up and down my body. I bring my free hand up to my breast and pinch my nipple between my fingers, rolling and tugging gently.

His mouth hangs open and I watch the muscles in his arm contract as his grip tightens. I bring my finger up from my pussy to my mouth, tasting myself on my fingers and getting them wet before returning to my core, rubbing back and forth on my clit faster than before knowing I’m about to spill over the edge. I bite my lip to stifle my cries as my high crashes through my body, my head rushing and body tingling.

This must have been enough for Matt to break, and he watches intently as he spills his warm load onto my pussy, drips falling down onto the sheets underneath.

He falls down to lay beside me on the bed, both of us dizzy and dazed. I watch his chest rising and falling rhythmically as he catches his breath, not laying for too long before he gets up and quickly walks to the bathroom, returning with a washcloth.

“Can I?” He asks, sitting between my legs and holding the rag out, a much more innocent look on his face than the last time he was in this position.

I giggle and nod, appreciating him wanting to help me clean up. This is such a different experience than any other one I’ve had in this line of work. It felt so much deeper and personal. I can’t let my mind play tricks on me, though. He’ll have another girl in this room before another week passes. I’m just another sugar baby he can get off to and forget about. I keep the smile on my face despite the way I’m feeling, knowing I need the money and I can’t screw this up by bringing up any sort of emotion.

He tosses the wash cloth into the bathroom trash before picking his shirt up from beside the bed and walking over to me.

“Uh, you can wear this.. if you want?” He says seeming unsure of himself.

“Oh, my original dress is in the drawer over there, that’ll probably look more normal than a big button up when I go back through the lobby,” I giggle and sit up, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed.

“I meant like.. if you wanted to stay a while? I don’t have anything comfier but I figured it’s better than a dress,” he trails off, shifting on his feet as he looks around the room.

Stay? I’ve never had any of these men clean me up before, let alone offer for me to stay.

“Y-yeah, sure. I mean, that sounds great! You don’t have anything else going on tonight?” I question, trying to gauge his reaction.

“No, nothing going on. I just..” he picks at the skin on his fingers before claiming a spot beside me on the bed and staring intently into my eyes.

“Did you feel it too? I’ve never felt that way with any of these hookups before. I feel like you get me. Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I’m being a fucking idiot and reading too much into it. Let me get your check,” he says shaking his head and abruptly standing up.

I grab his hand and hop to my feet beside him, trying not to smile like a fool.

“No, no.. forget the check, Matt. I felt it too.”

He exhales a deep breath before gripping my face with both of his hands. “I want to get to know you properly, Y/n. I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you.”

I press a kiss onto his lips and pull away smiling.

“Give me the damn shirt.”

[bluewatersfairy]

homebody - l.b.

loosely inspired by homebody by kalin white (a/n: i've been wanting to use this song for a longgg time)

synopsis: requested by @bemybinarystar! two people meet by chance on an app that thrives on anonymity and begin an x-rated relationship with one another filled with late night video calls.

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI!! depictions of sex work, mutual masturbation.

word count: 3.2k

•••

Melo grabbed his laptop and climbed on top of his bed, checking one last time that there were no tell-tale signs in view that would make him identifiable.  This had become a part of his routine and what was once him being cautious was now a natural habit.  He originally didn’t care, it never even crossed his mind, but she had told him he needed to, she didn’t want to know who he was.  That was weird for him to hear too, it reminded him of how different this relationship was.  If you could call it a relationship.

When he had first discovered her, he was doom scrolling on the type of site that was created for late-night rendezvous.  He’d convinced himself he was just curious, he’d laugh about it later and go back to the more traditional way of fulfilling his needs.  But then he saw her smile and he had to stop scrolling.  Her description was limited, her height, tag name, and that she was drawn to the anonymity of the site; tell me something good and maybe we can figure something out.

The only reason Melo had even caught her attention was because his profile looked like a cheap bot: 2 tall, 2 long, fire’n’ice, was all his profile said.  His request sat in her inbox for two days until he sent her another message, ‘you ever think about castles?  they got pretty ones by the lakes in lithuania.’  It was a bizarre opening, but it got him out of her requests and into her inbox.

They messaged back and forth for a full week before anything remotely sexual was discussed.  Melo liked that she wasn’t jumping at his every response and that it looked like she had a life too.  During that week, they hadn’t shared much about themselves, but he felt like she was investigating him, despite the very few questions she asked.  The first time he received the app notification that she’d sent him a picture, his palms started getting sweaty.  

He locked himself in his room, something that would become routine, laid back on his bed and opened her message thread.  It was a tasteful shot of her full thighs and ass peaky out of a red silk slip.  Her deep amber skin against the scarlet made him gulp.  It was so little, nothing he hadn’t seen before, but it pulled his interest and ignited his curiosity.  She had waited for him to see the message before she sent the follow up, ‘your turn…”

Melo had spent the next 10 minutes cleaning his floor and checking that nothing could be seen in the background from his messy room.  He spat in his palm and stroked his hard-on till it was raging and grown.  He held the base of his shaft with one hand and took a photo with the other before sending it through.  

That was two months ago and though neither of them had asked many personal questions, there was this unspoken bond between them.  She didn’t need him to say when he’d had a rough day, and he knew how she needed to be talked to.  He found himself thinking of her at the worst of times and turning to her when he needed a boost.  In return, he’d transfer undisclosed amounts of money to her account.  Again, this was something they hadn’t really talked about, it was an unspoken agreement.

Of course, she never expected him to be so generous.  

At first, she assumed that it was an attempt to impress her and keep her interested in him.  She had told him after maybe a week of exchanging racy pictures that she offered more, but for it to be fair to the other people she entertained, he had to pay a small fee that he felt reflected their time together.  The beauty of the site that she considered her secret life was that she got to choose her clients and could easily report and block people if they ever became aggressive or obsessive.  She’d always managed to attract men who exhibit something she’s attracted to, but she knew “fire’n’ice” was closer to her age and clearly in a high position, and that image was addictive to her.  

When he had first sent her a large sum out of the blue, she’d been 3 hours deep in official documents.  She imagined him in a similar position, probably in slacks and a white button up, trapped in his office thinking about taking her at his desk.  She’d quickly excused herself, citing lady problems, and clicked off to the employee bathroom.

Melo, who was standing in his kitchen heating up one of the several protein-based meals he had made weekly, received a message with 3 attachments.  She was spreading herself open for him, and had framed her tits in such a way, he just wanted to latch on.  He’d groaned loudly and abandoned his meal in favour of his room.  His cock was tight against his pants and the second he freed it, he felt the ache take over his body.  

He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured her, imagining how she posed.  He thrust into his fist and straggled words flew out of his mouth.  In the haze of the moment, he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. 

“Look at my fuckin’ cock, babygirl, look how hard it is for you.” He spat as he finished his sentence, needing more moisture so he could fuck his hand better.  “I bet you’d love to choke on my big fuckin’ dick, aye baby?  I’d fuck your face and finish all over your tits.”  

He paid no mind to what he was saying, he was just talking shit as he thrusted harder and faster into his hand.  His cum spurted all over his desk, some of it landing on his phone screen.  He swore and stopped the recording before bending over, his chest heaving.  He’d never thought to do something like that before.  She hadn’t even made a video for him, she’d only ever sent pictures.  What had she done to him?

The video worked in Lamelo’s favour in more ways than he could have possibly known.  She already had a growing soft spot for mr. fire’n’ice but that video sent him to the top of her list.  He was the first client she reached out to during the days and his sessions were always top priority for her.  It didn’t have much to do with the money, she was just drawn to him in every way a person can be to someone they’ve never met or even seen properly.  He even had her questioning if she should take a step back from her other clients and just entertain him.  

It was bad.  Unprofessional even.  But she couldn’t stop herself.

LaMelo was still checking his background when her call came in, popping up on his screen with her explicit profile icon highlighted with a red ring.  He pressed the green button and did one final adjustment to his laptop so all she could see was below his neck.  He always wore a black wife-beater so that his chest tattoo was mostly covered but so she could still get a good view of his toned torso and the ever growing bulge in his shorts.

“Hi pretty boy,” her ruby red lips pulled into a grin on his screen.  She looked like she was laying on her stomach, her tits pushed together under a slip of vibrant material.  

“‘Sup baby,” Melo swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “you lookin’ edible.”

She giggled as she ran her hand down her neck before reaching somewhere off camera.  She was sitting up, he realised, before she brought something of a prop on screen.

“I was gonna say I found these today and thought of you,” she giggled again, “I know you’re much bigger, but you can’t tell me that’s not a close match.”  Melo smirked as he watched her twirl two rainbow lolly-cocks in the camera.  

“They not that girthy, you could still fit them in your mouth easy,” Melo felt his dick twitch as she rested her pouty lips on the tip of the lolly.

“Are you saying your dick won’t fit in my mouth?” she bit on her bottom lip and dragged her hand down her chest as she spoke.

“I’m sayin’ it won’t be easy.”  Melo’s hand moved to the bulge in his pants and he gently palmed it.

“I like a challenge,” she smiled, “I’ll make sure it fits baby, you know I’m a good girl for you.”

“Show me.” 

His voice was raspy, and his dick was hard.  She’d caught him at the perfect time and he knew she could tell just how desperate he was for her.  He didn’t care that she knew anymore.  Truthfully, he thought it showed how well they knew each other and how much he trusted her.  

“Of course baby,” she grinned before adjusting her laptop camera slightly.  

Melo watched closely as she spat on the tip of the lolly cock and used her tongue to glide it down.  Kitten licks and teasing kisses quickly turned into her pouty lips wrapped around the head.  The wet sounds her mouth made against the hard lolly did nothing but strengthen the pulse in Melo’s cock.  He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip before readjusting himself, watching as she pushed the lolly further into her mouth.  

“You’re such a good girl, baby,” Melo pushed out with his head leaning back.  He watched her through his eyelashes, picturing her wrapped around him.  His chest rose and fell at a steady pace and his skin flushed pink.  He was getting caught up in the thick of things, he barely processed her transitioning from the lolly cock to one of her dildos.

It was one they had purchased together.  It was a late night call, much like they were currently on, and she had wanted to find something a bit different for the two of them.  Her screen was shared with him as they scrolled through an adult website.  Every now and then Melo would point out one, whether he was being serious or joking was always up for interpretation.  

“I want something that’s like you,” she said sheepishly when Melo had asked why he was involved, “it’s like torture seeing such a pretty and big dick and not be able to ride it.”  

They’d found a dildo similar to his size and when it came in the mail a week later, Melo received a video of her putting it in her mouth, popping it out and pushing it between her tits.  She said she wouldn’t to anything else without him, but he was out of town and sharing a room so it would be a minute until he was going to be able to be alone with her.  It ended up being one of their better calls.  Melo could barely keep his eyes open by the end of it, he felt so fucked out and exhausted, you’d think she had actually been there to suck the soul out of him.  He’d jokingly texted her the next morning saying he had a sore wrist.  It wasn’t a complete joke though, many coaches commented on his shooting being off that day at practice. 

“Oh baby,” she moaned through the camera as she pulled the rubber cock out of her mouth, “touch yourself baby, show me how you stroke it.”

Melo was rock hard.  He hissed as he ran his hand up his thick shaft and circled his thumb over his throbbing head, spreading his leaked pre-cum so she could see it.  She spat on her dildo as he squirted lube on himself.  

“Follow my pace baby,” she instructed, “you know how much I love to push you.”

“I’ll do whatever you say baby,” Melo swallowed and began to stroke his dick as she jacked the dildo.  She switched between going fast and slow, bringing different sounds out of Melo as she encouraged him.  She moaned at every twitch of his dick and felt herself growing hotter and hotter with each stroke.

“Fuck,” she spat out as Melo had to let go of his cock, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, “you wanna cum don’t you baby?”

“I don’t wanna,” Melo groaned as he smacked his cock, “you just drive me crazy Ma.”  His eyes refocused on his screen to find she’d changed positions.

She was sitting now, her thighs spread so her pussy was on full display.  Melo cussed at the sight of it.  Even through the camera he could tell she was just as heated as he was.  She was visibly swollen and practically dripping.  She giggled as she slipped her fingers through her folds, a visible tremble running through her at the same time.

“Look how ready I am for you,” she moaned as she fingered her clit, “you’d stretch me out so good with that big cock.”

“I’d give you the fuck of your life,” Melo gripped his cock again, “have yo ass screamin’.”

She picked up the dildo from her side and rubbed the tip against her entrance, “tell me baby,” she hummed, “tell me how you’d do me.”

“I’d fuck you in so many ways,” he started to jerk his cock again.  “God, I’d fuck you into your mattress baby, giving you the deepest strokes of your life.  You’ve never had a dick like this.”

“No I haven’t,” she whined, pushing the dildo inside her, “you’d have to go slow with me, I wanna make sure I feel every inch of you.”  she let out a gasp of a pet name, her free hand gripping on to her tit.

“God just the sight of your cock makes me feel crazy,” her hips were moving against her hand, pushing the rubber cock in and out, trying desperately to match Melo’s pace.  If he could function enough to think of anything at that moment, he’d appreciate her commitment to making it feel like they were together, fucking.  But his brain wasn’t working anymore.  Everything that came to mind was nothing shy of filth. 

“It’s all yours baby, and you’d look so fucking good bouncing on top of it.”

She moaned at his words, her tits bouncing as she fucked herself harder.  

“This big fucking dick is all yours, whenever you want it, I don’t care where, it’s yours.”

His room filled with a mix of her moans, his heavy breathing and the sound of his hand beating his cock, slapping with how fast he was jerking.

“Oh and this pussy is all yours daddy,” she moaned loudly, “I’m all yours baby.  You can put that pretty dick whereever you want and use me for whatever you need.  I just need you all over me daddy, your big hands wrapped in my hair, around my throat.”

“I’ll slut you out baby,” Melo groaned as he chased her words, “I’ll make you cum so much the whole world gon’ hear.”  

“I’m gonna cum,” she all but screamed, “keep talking, tell me baby, I want to hear you.”

“I’ll fuck you from behind in the mirror, baby.  Smack yo’ ass and pull your hair and make you look me in the eye while you cum all over my big dick.”  Melo repressed a loud moan and swallowed hard.  “We gon’ fuck all night, baby, the second you cum, I’m sticking it right back in there.  I’ll make it so you won’t be able to walk in the morning.”

Melo watched her body react to his words and struggled to process the sight. Her chest was heaving, fucking the dildo in and out of her hole with her hand tight on her clit.  She swore over and over again until her words were nothing but moans and Melo saw everything reach it’s peak.  She pulled the dildo out of her and did everything she could to stop her thighs from clamping shut.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped with her head thrown back and her hands jammed between her thighs.  She collasped against whatever was behind her and Melo watched her spread herself open and squirt.  “Oh baby, I’m cumming so fucking hard.”

Melo just about double over, letting out the loudest moans and groans he’d ever made as his load spurted out of his tip.  He massaged his balls and watched his seed cover his lower stomach and parts of his laptop.

“Fuck,” he sighed as he leaned back and let his dick stand to its own want.  

For a minute, the two of them didn’t move, just panting heavily staring at one another.  Occasionally, he’d stroke his shaft and rub his balls at the same time to see if he had anything left.  She was the first one to move, laying back down to the position she’d been in when the call started.

“Every time I think we’ve reached our peak, you go and do the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she giggled as she put one of her fingers to her lips.

“Tell me how that pussy tastes babe,” he said, his voice audibly strained.  She smirked and put her fingers in her mouth, sucking them off.

“It tastes sweet and creamy,” she let her wet fingers drag down her naked torso to her nipples.

“You’re a fuckin’ problem,” Melo grinned and shook his head, reaching for the rag he washed for this call.

“I’m a problem?” she giggled, pointing to herself, “you’re the one who’s got me thinking of throwing all the policies out the window.”

“Policies?” Melo asked, suddenly brought out of his post-nut daze.  “What are you tryna say?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug, “but don’t you feel it too?  Don’t you want to see my face?  Know my name?”

“I want all of the above, baby,” Melo pulled his laptop closer to him.  “Are you saying there’s more we could do?”

“I’m just thinking out loud here,” she hesitated, “you’re the first person I feel like I’d be safe sharing my secrets with.”  What was she saying?

It was a big confession, she wants to elevate things.  Melo couldn’t decide if it was his money or him but he really didn’t care.  He wanted to have her name and he wanted her to know his name.  But it’s unique, and she’d know exactly who he was if he said it.

Fuck it.

“LaMelo,” he rushed to say, spitting it out before he could think twice.  “I’m LaMelo.”

She smiled wide and he watched as she reached out to her laptop screen and pushed it back slightly.

“I’m Y/N,” she giggled.

LaMelo repeated her name, letting it pass through his lips to see how it’d feel saying it.

“So Y/N,” Melo smiled as he pushed his laptop screen a bit too, showing more of him, “if I offered to fly you out, would you say no?”

“Oh baby,” she smirked, “I’d be there in a heartbeat.  I want all that dick in real life.”

“Aight, bet,” Melo picked up his phone from beside him, “you give me a date and I’ll work out all the rest.”

[ultramarine-spirit]

Ultramarine's Bookwalker Guide

A (hopefully) simple guide to how to use Bookwalker! See my Ridibooks guide if you are interested in manhwas and Korean web-novels.

What is Bookwalker? Bookwalker is Kadokawa's official website/app for reading mangas and light novels! There, you can read your favorite series in Japanese, and also their official English translations. It's not region-locked, so anyone can use it!

Before continuing, here is something very important to consider: Bookwalker's website and app have two versions each, a Japanese one and a Global one. The Japanese version has, well, all the mangas and light novels in the original Japanese. Meanwhile, the Global version has official English licenses.

Global version of the app (the one that you'll be able to download, unless you have a Japanese Google account) vs the Japanese browser version. Of course, you can also access the Global version in your browser.

This is relevant because you'll only be able to find WMMAP's (or any other series') Japanese edition on Bookwalker's Japanese version. If Bookwalker doesn't have the translation rights for the series in particular, you won't be able to find it on its Global version. Such is the case for WMMAP, licensed by Seven Seas (Maybe one day this will change).

Screenshot of Bookwalker's JP website.

Alright, alright, but how do I use Bookwalker? As with any other platform, you first need to make an account (top-right corner of your screen, 👤 icon). A nice thing about Bookwalker is that you can register using your Google, Twitter, Facebook, or Apple account! If you are using Bookwalker's Japanese version, I recommend using Chrome or other browsers with a MTL function, so the page is easier for you to navigate.

Buying mangas and light novels. Once again, I'll use WMMAP as an example. As I said above, if the series you want to purchase doesn't have an English version distributed by Bookwalker (such as WMMAP's case), you won't find it on its Global version, no matter if you are using the website or the app. Searching 「ある日、お姫様になってしまった件について」 or "Who Made Me A Princess" on the Global platforms won't give you any results.

Similarly, because of these copy-right issues, you won't be able to find any English translations on the Japanese version of the website.

So, tl;dr, we need to use Bookwalker JP! Once you have your account (which will work on both Bookwalker versions, Japanese and Global), you'll be able to search for 「ある日、お姫様になってしまった件について」 (WMMAP's Japanese title), and buy any of the 9 Japanese volumes released so far. Unlike Ridibooks, here you can only buy WMMAP's full volumes (ebooks), not chapters. The prices will vary depending on the volume, but they are all around 1,000 yen (older volumes are cheaper, and there are often sales).

Using the Japanese version might also be convenient in general because of the favorable dollar-yen exchange rate.

Screenshots of Bookwalker's JP website. I'm using Chrome's MTL function so the pictures are easier to understand.

Bookwalker's Coins. As with most manga platforms, Bookwalker has its own currency that you need to buy to then purchase any manga or light novel. It works in the same way as Tapas' ink and Tappytoon's points. The coins are worth almost the same as yen, but with a 1% accumulation rate. Selecting the "buy coins" option in your user profile will allow you to recharge the currency.

There, you can choose how much you want to recharge. Another nice thing about Bookwalker is that it accepts overseas credit cards (see the picture for the ones that work) and Paypal! Also, remember to check the purchase confirmation. After that, you just write your credit card/Paypal information, and you should be ready to buy your favorite manga or light novel!

Screenshots of Bookwalker's Global app.

If you want to use Bookwalker's Global version to purchase a series in English (as I said, you won't be able to find WMMAP here, please keep this in mind, or you could waste your money), the system is very similar, you have to buy "Points" in USD. Pictures for reference.

Screenshots of Bookwalker's Global app.

Once you have already purchased WMMAP, you'll be able to find it in your library (📚 icon).

You can filter out other books writing 「ある日、お姫様になってしまった件について」 in the search bar!

Also very important information: You will be able to read WMMAP on Bookwalker's Global version too (be it the website or the app) if you have already purchased it on the Japanese site. In the pictures shown above you can see screenshots of said app. At the bottom, you have your library, where all books you have bought are organized according to their date of acquisition. Here you will be able to read anything you have bought, in English or Japanese. It's only to buy Japanese titles that you have to specifically use the Japanese site, but only for purchasing purposes. After that, you'll be able to read it on any of Bookwalker's versions.

[broodybuck]

Title: Looking for Something Real

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, pornstars, no refractory period, emotional sex, love confessions, denial of feelings, retired Avengers, top Steve, bottom Bucky

[ao3 link]

It's not really complicated. It's quite simple actually. Steve and Bucky are best friends who both decided to enter the porn industry after retiring from saving the world.

It wasn't exactly a difficult choice when the serum has them both lasting for hours with no refractory period.

The only rule they decided was that they'd never fuck each other. They accepted jobs at separate production companies for this reason but even the producers were begging to make a deal. To get the former Captain America and former Winter Soldier to do the dirty. It's what everyone wants but Steve and Bucky discussed it. Their friendship isn't worth a price and they don't want to degrade it.

Steve never exactly told Bucky the real reason for this decision. He didn't so much care about capitalizing on the friendship. For Steve, it was more raw, deep, and probably a lot of other words that weren't meant to be innuendos for porn but go pretty well anyhow. Steve knew the second he got intimate with Bucky, he'd quite literally reveal to the world how hopelessly in love he is with the guy.

He's pretty sure he doesn't hide it all that well but then again, Bucky never seems to notice. Like how jealous Steve gets when they talk about work. Bucky casually mentions which pornstars he has to fuck or how this guy was rough with him or this other guy had to play tender for a marriage scene. Steve nearly fumes hearing the tales regardless of the fact, he does the exact same thing for work.

But god, hearing how other people are using Bucky like a toy, throwing him around, getting to come on his face — yeah, Steve's less than thrilled with that. But obviously, he can't say anything unless he wants to admit why he's jealous. And he's never gonna do that.

The most shameful thing Steve does is watch Bucky's scenes in the privacy of his own home. Of course, he's subscribed to the company that hired Bucky. And even if his best friend found out that fact, he would simply excuse it as supporting him. Bucky would readily accept that lie. What Steve really spends his money on, is the nights where he shamefully jerks off to Bucky's videos on loop. He's not kidding, he's watched them all countless times.

The truth is, the videos make him sick. To see people who get paid to vandalize his best friend. But he's also helplessly in love with the man so watching every angle of Bucky's naked body be played with, pleasured, and manhandled gets Steve off so fast he seriously can't stop. He's addicted to it, he watches Bucky every night. He knows he has a problem, he knows.

~~~

One night, Bucky is over for beers when he slams his phone down on the coffee table and curses.

"What happened?" Steve asks.

"Just bullshit," Bucky snaps. Steve eyes him worried and Bucky relents a moment later. "I'm so sick of guys having an issue with what I do for a living."

"You on the apps again?"

It's another harrow in Steve's life. Bucky has confided in him that he still wants an honest relationship, a true connection with someone, and he's yet to find one since they've both begun their porn careers.

"Yeah," Bucky groans, dropping his head in his hands.

"Is it on your profile — your profession?"

"Like it needs to be? Everyone knows who we are, Stevie. The whole world had something to say when we started doing this."

"Right, yeah," Steve says unsure how to make this any better. And all he wants to do is make this better for Bucky, he'd do anything to give him what he wants.

"I just want something real," Bucky sighs, gripping his hair in his hands.

Steve puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sick of playing everything up," Bucky goes on.

"You thinking of quitting?" Steve asks with surprise.

"I don't know," Bucky sighs, letting his hands fall. He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes.

Steve wants to kiss him so badly right now, wants to make every hurt feeling in his body float away.

"I'd support anything you wanna do, Buck," Steve tells him. "You deserve something real, you do."

Bucky opens his eyes and looks tiredly at his friend.

"Don't you want that?"

"What?" Steve plays coy.

"Love?" Bucky says.

Steve nods but he can't say anymore because if he does the words, I'm already in love with you might spill out. And that's the reason he never tries to date because no one else will come close. Steve already knows this.

"You don't do a good job of looking, Stevie," Bucky scoffs.

I'm looking at him right now, Steve thinks but shakes his head.

"Since when are we talking about me? Here lemme look at your profile," Steve offers.

"You've seen it."

"Lemme look again," Steve insists.

"I'm over it. The apps are shit."

Bucky sighs digging deeper into the back of the couch and spreading his legs unintentionally. It makes a warm flush spread over Steve's skin.

All Steve wants is to make this right. Maybe he could do something for him.

"Then lemme make it real," Steve says.

Bucky turns to him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Make what real?"

"One night. I wanna give that to you."

Bucky sits up, swallowing tensely and staring at him firmly.

"What're you saying, Stevie?"

"I'm saying," Steve pauses to take Bucky's hand in his. It feels so natural that his thumb skims over the back of Bucky's hand comfortingly. "I can give this to you. It won't be for a job. It'll be with someone who cares about you and wants to make you feel good."

Bucky swallows again.

"Steve... you're serious?"

Steve nods. More than you know, he wants to say but doesn't.

"Lemme do this for you," Steve nearly pleads.

Bucky holds his gaze a moment longer.

"I thought we said we'd never—"

"It's not a scene," Steve cuts him off. "This is real. It's what you deserve. And tomorrow, we'll still be best friends. Nothing's getting ruined."

Bucky's eyes widen slightly like he can't fully believe what he's hearing. At this point, Steve wants this so bad he'd fully beg.

"You're sure?" Bucky asks.

"Kiss me," Steve commands and leans forward an inch.

Bucky's eyes go a little wider but then he leans an inch forward. They're so close now only one of them needs to move to close the rest of the space.

It's Bucky who does. And their lips collide effortlessly in a long, spell-binding kiss that's better than Steve's ever imagined.

They break apart and stare at each other.

"That was nice," Bucky says like he wasn't expecting it to be.

Steve has a lot more confidence now and he easily cups Bucky's face and draws him back in for another kiss.

They make out slowly and leisurely make their way to their bedroom. It feels like a dream. Like Steve's floating through the air with the man he loves in his arms, on his lips, lying on his mattress. It doesn't feel real.

He undresses Bucky so carefully, it's like he's unwrapping a glass relic. Bucky lies openly for him, letting Steve pull and tug each article of clothing until he's naked. And sure, Steve has seen every inch of the man a thousand times. Online and in real life, they've never been shy around each other. But tonight, he looks different. He looks like he was placed here for Steve to love and cherish and devour.

Steve's restraint is quickly dwindling. He moves fast to remove his own clothes and Bucky sits up to watch. Steve's skin burns under his gaze. He's never undressed for Bucky like this, not for him. Steve rushes forward and kisses Bucky hard, holding his face in his hands. He wants more, he wants all of him.

"Damn, Steve. Didn't think it'd feel like this," Bucky breathes after the kiss, his eyes still closed.

Steve smiles, he can't help himself. He's always known it'd be like this. Amazing. Steve kisses him again and slides their naked bodies together as he lies over him on the bed.

Bucky's hips are already canting up, gliding their erections together. Steve has seen him do this a dozen times on screen but actually feeling him brush against him needily makes Steve think he might die from the arousal coating his body.

He presses down and grinds over Bucky's hard cock. It makes the man moan. And oh, Steve's heard that sound too many times to count but tonight it's just for him. That makes Steve dizzy. He grinds against him again, kissing a line up Bucky's neck, sucking on the soft skin. Bucky moans louder, clawing at Steve's back.

"Fuck, Stevie."

"Yeah, I got you," Steve whispers.

He gets up to reach into the drawer of his nightstand for lube. He pours some over his fingers. Bucky spreads his thighs on instinct. It makes a flame simmer low in Steve's gut.

"It's nice not pretending, huh?" Steve notes and he tosses the bottle aside and circles his fingers around Bucky's rim.

Bucky licks his lips, watching Steve's fingers prod at him gently.

"Not having to play the part, be extra loud, draw things out," Steve goes on, pushing a finger inside. Bucky breathes in sharply, then relaxes.

"I want you to enjoy this, Buck. Come whenever you want, however much you want. Don't even gotta tell me, 'kay?"

"Fuck," Bucky groans and arches up as Steve pushes a second finger in. "Getting me hot when you talk like that, Stevie."

Steve nearly grins but he focuses on his hands and curls both fingers to find the spot he's looking for. A familiar moan tells him he found it and he basks in the feeling. He's been dreaming about opening Bucky up for years — decades, actually — and now it's finally happening.

Bucky takes what Steve says seriously because when Steve's up to three fingers and starts pressing repeatedly on his sweet spot, Bucky just comes. Easy and quiet, Steve could've missed it if he wasn't watching every moment.

"Jesus, honey," Steve marvels. "Beautiful."

He frees his fingers and wraps them around the base of Bucky's cock and sucks the head in between his lips.

"God," Bucky whines, arching up, greedy for more of Steve's mouth. Steve's happy to give it to him.

He slides down to the root and sucks him steadily. Bucky lets out a small whimper, a sound Steve hasn't heard from him often. He revels in coaxing a new sound out of him. He sucks harder from the reward.

Bucky comes again. And this time, he groans low and squeezes Steve's hair in his fist. Steve sits up and watches Bucky calm down. He looks so relaxed, so blissed out from the pure pleasure radiating through him. And the best part is, they've barely begun. Steve launches forward with excitement and kisses Bucky hungrily.

"Gotta start making you come," Bucky mumbles in between kisses.

"It's all about you, sweetheart."

"No, it's not," Bucky protests and flips them around, shoving Steve down into the mattress under him.

He slides down and slips Steve's cock in his mouth. Sucks on the tip light and teasingly. Steve chuckles a little. He's seen Bucky do this too and he never thought he'd be on the receiving end of it. He lets Bucky tease him and thankfully it's only a few more seconds before he swallows him down.

Apparently, Steve's letting go too because he completely loses himself in it. He basks in the feeling of Bucky Barnes, the love of his life, sucking him off. Steve comes, faster than he's ever let himself but it feels too good not to.

Bucky's smirking at him when he opens his eyes. Bucky leans down to kiss him, one small peck on his lips.

"Haven't seen you lose it so fast," Bucky comments.

Steve stills for a moment, reality dawning on him.

"You watch my stuff?"

"'Course," Bucky shrugs casually and lies on Steve's chest leaving another small kiss on his mouth. "Gotta keep up with my competition."

Steve frames his face, combing his hair back with his fingers.

"We're not competition, Buck."

"I know."

"All I ever wanted was this," Steve says before he can stop himself.

He feels Bucky still above him and for a split moment, he believes he's ruined everything. It's over. But then Bucky shakes his head at him.

"Why didn't you ever do something about it?"

"I didn't think you were..." Steve feels himself blush viciously.

"Interested?" Bucky finishes with a scoff of disbelief. "You gotta be kidding me. I'm the one who said we should do porn — as a joke."

"What?" Steve sits up abruptly, moving Bucky up with him. Bucky slides off him and runs a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd go for it. But then you agreed and I thought why not? Maybe we'd do scenes together. But then you said we should never work together."

"Wait, you weren't serious? Why would you go through with becoming a pornstar if you were kidding?"

"I don't know, I was really horny. And I couldn't believe Steve Rogers was gonna be a pornstar. I guess, I figured I could watch you anytime I wanted..." Bucky blushes with the last part, looking away.

A beat of silence falls over them.

"I watch you all the time too," Steve says quietly.

He feels embarrassed admitting it even though they're sitting naked on his bed. Bucky looks at him again.

"We're so stupid."

Steve laughs, he has to, "we really are."

"Fuck," Bucky says, staring at him.

In a flash, it's like the lust takes over again. His eyes darken and he surges forward, kissing Steve with renewed passion. Steve kisses him right back, snaking his arms around him and pulling him back on top of him.

"Can I... Buck?" Steve asks dazedly. "I've been waiting so long, this feels so rig—"

"Yeah, you can fuck me already," Bucky cuts him off with another kiss. "Don't gotta get all sappy on me."

Bucky rolls them over, landing on his back with Steve above him now. He smiles up at him so sweetly. Steve has never been more in love.

By the time Steve gets inside him, Steve feels high. It feels so damn good to be inside him. He slides in and out of Bucky at a slower pace than he's ever fucked someone. He can tell Bucky is growing impatient when he grabs Steve's ass and forces him deeper inside his ass. He thrusts his hips up in urgency.

"Fuck me," he growls.

Steve breaks into a hard and brutal pace. But hearing Bucky pant wildly with a drunk smile strung across his face is what makes Steve really lose it.

"Fuck, fuck," Steve curses under his breath and grabs Bucky's ankles, pulling them over his shoulders and fucking him harder.

"Yes, god. Finally," Bucky cries and that's it for Steve. He's gone. He's coming hard, eyes sewn shut, hips still ramming forward incessantly.

He doesn't stop when he's done. He still has more in him and so does Bucky. They smile at each other. Steve leans over him, bending him in half and fucking him deeper. Bucky can kiss him now, dirty and wet with his tongue. Steve loves that. A few more minutes of that and he comes again.

Bucky's on his lap after that, riding him savagely. Steve has fantasized about Bucky riding him like this far too many times. And worse, Bucky's kissing him all the while like he needs air. Like he's never needed anything more than Steve's cock and tongue inside him at the same time.

They come together the last time, groaning in unison. Bucky slows on his lap and they breathe hard against each other.

"Christ, Steve. That was..." Bucky pants, pausing to catch his breath but Steve can't wait for him to finish. He needs to tell him.

"I love you."

Bucky looks up, meeting his eyes in astoundment.

"I'm in love with you," Steve repeats and he doesn't regret it. He's still inside the man and he doesn't care, he just needs to let him know.

Bucky kisses him. That's his first response. Steve kisses him back although he assumes it's Bucky's way of distracting him because he doesn't feel the same.

That's okay, Steve tells himself even as tears threaten to sting the backs of his eyes. It's okay. He keeps kissing Bucky.

Bucky finally draws back and frames Steve's face in his hands.

"I love you too."

[kannagms]

As someone who has been a fan of the boys since the beginning of Buzzfeed Unsolved when Ryan was doing his little PowerPoint presentations and reading from a single sheet of printer paper, this entire Watcher fiasco is insane and was definitely not on my 2024 bingo card.

Back when Ryan and Shane announced that they were leaving Buzzfeed to start their own entertainment company with Steven, I was excited! I wanted to see what new, fun, interesting, and creative content they would put out without Buzzfeed holding them back. I'm a huge fan of Mystery and Ghost Files, Puppet History, Are You Scared?, Too Many Spirits, Top 5 Beatdown. Loved Spooky Small Talk before it was scrapped. I watched every new ep that came out, even the ones I didn't like that much like Steven's food ones, and liked and commented because I wanted to support them as much as possible. I rewatch all my favorite episodes. I have a dedicated playlist of Ryan and Shane content because it helps me fall asleep at night. When I didn't have much I at least had Watcher to keep my smile on my face and continuous laughter going when I didn't feel much like going on.

I got the notification 3 days ago about a new Watcher video and was stunned at what I saw. Sure I can watch episode 1 of new shows and watch some trailers, but I'm gonna have to sub to yet another streaming service to watch anything more. A streaming service that doesn't even have an app, so if I want to add anything to my sleep playlist, I'm gonna have to leave my phone on all night.

Anyways, I immediately went and checked the boys' socials and see what they posted for any additional info. Thousands upon thousands of negative comments all saying basically the same thing:

I can't afford $6/month/not everyone has $6 laying around, and it can really make or break someone financially.

Been a fan since Unsolved, guess I'm not a watcher anymore.

This is a bad move.

From what I've seen across reddit, Twitter, tiktok, Instagram, and Tumblr, the negative far outweigh the positive. The only "positive" comments I've seen haven't really been "oh this is a great idea! I'm gonna go sub right now!!" It's really been more, "well it's their business, they can do what they want with it." Or simply bashing other people because they cannot afford $6 a month or $60 a year, which really comes off as boomer ideology. You know, the old "if millennials would stop eating avocado toast or buying Starbucks maybe they can afford a house!" While completely ignoring the global economic crisis we are all facing. It's completely out of check with the fact that there's so many of us not just in America, but in the world who are barely living paycheck to paycheck. That there are so many people who WISH they could get a Starbucks coffee in the morning but often times have to skip meals because they cannot afford food if they want to keep a roof over their heads, you know the ridiculous amount of money that we spend to rent a small space. Never gonna forget the one apartment I looked at that was $800 a month, no utilities included, no parking, no pets allowed, and I could lay flat on the ground and have my 5'4" length reach comfortably in every single room. Wasn't even a kitchen or room for a single size bed (mild tangent rant, I now pay $1300 for a 2 bedroom apartment, most utilities included, but bad parking)

And for Steven to say that anyone can afford $6 is just so factually wrong. Has anyone checked the foreign exchange rate for $6? Some threads I've seen on Reddit are insane. For some people 6 USD translates to someone's entire rent or a week's worth of food. If I recall the comment correctly, one person said that in their country, Netflix comes out to $2 USD, and is considered a luxury item that only the upper class/wealthy have.

Maybe I'm just being bitter. Maybe I'm just overreacting to a piece of content I loved and cherished being pushed behind a paywall. It just feels like a slap in the face to fans who have spent countless hours soaking in their content, recommending them to friends, making new friends over a shared interest, and now feeling like they didn't matter at all. That we were just dollar signs. To hear them going from thanking dedicated fans for helping them get to where they are to but now you gotta give us more money if you want to keep being fans and now we are going to ignore your backlash just feels disingenuous and heartbreaking.

[mushrubes]

Faint

Masterlist | The walking dead Masterlist

Requested : No

Inspired by faint by @/lulushoeshoe on tik tok!!

Pairing : Rick Grimes x reader (No use of Y/n)

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Contents : slightly canon divergent / different timeline (Certain things that wouldn't be there are involved), idiots in love, soft Rick :)

Word count : 646

Have a great day / night !!

——–

"You have a visitor." Michonne smirked, walking into the kitchen to let Rick know. You trailed behind her, leaning on the doorframe as he handed Judith over to her before she sent you a smile and headed outside where Carl was waiting for them. "Are you excited to see me?" You teased, grinning at the man as he shook his head, a small smile on his face. "No, I already saw you yesterday." he huffed, a playful tone evident in his voice. Your eyes settled on the new smartwatch that was on his wrist, and an idea came to your head.

You walked over, sitting on the stool opposite him as he waited for the coffee maker to finish. "Let me see your watch." you asked, tilting your head slightly. He looked back at you in confusion. "What?" he questioned, hesitantly holding it out. "Pull up your heart rate." you demanded, biting your tongue as you swore you saw his cheeks redden. "Why would I pull up my heartrate?" he wondered, trying to not get flustered. He shook his head, moving to the hallway and picking up his boots. "Just do it." you huffed, folding your arms and following behind him.

"This is so dumb. We have to go now." he excused, getting slightly anxious as he knew the others would be waiting for the two as they had planned to tag along on a run. "Hey, relax, we'll make it ton time. Show me." you assured, pressing your hand to his shoulder as his body immediately stopped being tense. "Fine." he grumbled, giving in and pulling the app up. The two of you waited a few seconds for it to read, a smug look on your face. "Ha! If you said you're not excited to see me, why is your heartrate so high?" you asked, knowing you were right. "I...watched a horror movie before you came. That's why." he came up with on the spot, knowing you wouldn't fall for it.

"Yeah? With Carl and Judith? It really stuck with you, huh?" you smirked, rolling your eyes at him as he tied his laces before standing up and opening the door, letting you go first. "Yeah, uh..." he paused, thinking of a character to use. "The ghost's face still exists in my mind." he continued, putting up the facade and not backing down, his face betraying him. "Hmm. Why'd you lie?" you interrogated, grinning as he got flustered. "I didn't lie! I'm being serious." he argued, walking down the stairs as you followed swiftly behind him.

"Your mind can come with lies Grimes, but your heart can only tell the truth." you mocked, earning a sigh from him as you chuckled at the look of defeat plastered on his face. "Okay, fine, so what if I was excited to see you?" he huffed, eyes on the ground as the pair of you made your way through the town. "It's just funny messing with you. It's cute to see you act all calm and collected around me." you mocked, Rick scoffing at the dig. "How are you so calm?" he wondered, trying to find a single sign of even a tiny bit of being flustered but failing.

"I'm not. Here, feel how fast my heart is beating." you admitted, grabbing his hand and placing it on top of your chest. "It feels like you're running a race." he chuckled, his gaze lingering on you slightly longer than normal, feeling your cheeks heat up. "See we're both trying out best to stay cool." you shrugged, turning to carry on walking as he followed. "Just don't faint on me." he joked, winking at you. "Wow. You think you can make me faint?" you gasped, pretending to be hurt. "Oh, I'll bet money on it." he added smugly, freezing as you reached up and kissed his cheek.

"You're on."

[vasiktomis]

TripAdvisor's Top 10 Things To Do In Volterra, Tuscany (18+)

Previous | Part 3 | Next Part

Pairing: Aro/F!Reader(No use of y/n). Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~5500. Warnings: Overt stalking. Gaslighting. Borderline infidelity. Kind of sexually weird behaviours all around. Read it on Ao3 Here!

__________________________________

Autumn.

One couldn’t throw a rock in the home of the Volturi without hitting an unprincipled mortal submitting themselves for servitude. Of course, these humans do so with the intention of being made into immortals. You, on the other hand, stray into territory Aro doesn’t find himself familiar with. 

It strikes such a curiosity in him that he can’t help but survey your actions when you assume privacy. It’s only fair, really — if you won’t let him see your thoughts, you can at least allow him to play guessing games in his free time. Playing detective the way his trackers do: acquainting himself with your routines, following your network. Finding out what makes you tick outside of what you elect to tell him. 

It’s not as if he’s doing any harm, anyway. What you don’t know won’t hurt you, and this whole game is centred around secrets. If you didn’t want this, you shouldn’t have started it. He can’t be faulted for simply accepting your proposal, can he? 

No matter —

You’re a curious sight when you think you’re alone. No different to the way you behave in his presence. Irritatingly elusive in that regard; he’d hoped to at least uncover a shred of something hidden from your daily life. Some vulnerability. Some sweetness. Loved ones, perhaps. The kinds of weaknesses mortals have — but in the months he’s known you, he’s not known you to speak of anyone beyond mutual contacts and the odd celebrity. You fill your time greedily. Blindly. And amidst that, you don’t call anyone. 

You’d make for a perfect recruit, if the rest of you wasn’t such a risk.

In the meantime, until he grows tired of the puzzle, Aro is content to play along. He'll endure your shallow phone-app gossip about Taylor The Swift with the knowledge that no human could ever compete with his own kind in terms of speed, and the security that brains are no different. You're no match for him, intellectually. You’re bound to slip up. Whatever mask you don’t want him peering beneath will crack, and so long as you remain entertaining, he’ll keep you alive. In the meantime, he’s still plenty able to lift far more information from you than you realise. He doesn’t need to touch you to find out what makes you tick, and he’s already beginning to notice a pattern in your rhythms. 

This isn’t a nightly routine, mind. Just a carefully curated set-up to ensure that when he does grow bored — when he just so happens to pass by one particular window in the castle, he needn’t make any other effort but to simply stand and observe.

Aro’s nothing if not generous. Those Airbnbs you hopped to and from offer little in the way of a personal touch. They were cramped and beyond your sustainable budget. There's less of a paper trail in your wake when you're not scrambling to find a new rental, and simply providing you with options bought in a faux name prove advantageous for his end of the board, anyway. This way, you have more presence. More security. More freedom to adorn your living space with all of the things that have taken your fleeting interest; artwork, furnishings, what you refer to as ’tasteful clutter’ — all purchased with the money he gives you, of course. It’s akin to watching a magpie fix her nest with trinkets, and in a static position, the viewing experience is less of a hassle.

Had he ensured your living space faced perfectly toward his own abode, graced with the view of the place that gives you whatever you ask?

Of course.

Do you ever appreciate the wonderful view of the castle from your new home?

Hardly.

This is fine by him, he supposes. 

The less you peer out into the dark, the less concern he has watching you from it. 

Over the course of your relocation, you’ve decided to make your bedroom the room with the view, and with only minimal encouragement from Aro. Most of your time nowadays is spent by his side, and majority of the time not is devoted to resting. You don’t lounge in your living spaces unless you’re hosting Volturi, who are barred from your sleeping quarters. Meanwhile, your human guests only ever appear to be hosted in the opposite manner. 

It’s not the nature of your ventures that interests him; human bodies are filthy. Graceless. Marked up with scars and spots with stories too boring to justify in this era. Each of your guests is as imperfectly mortal as the last — as are you — and you never, ever, bring the same person home twice. 

It’s not what you do with them physically that Aro pays close attention to. It’s the psychological aspects that strike him.

You’re unkind to your lovers. They appear to frustrate you. Matters that go beyond teasing and taunting. They’re simply not up to scratch. Its not for a lack of trying, either; you never give anyone more than an overnight chance before you’re done with them. No afterglow. No intimacy. No second chances. You take what your body needs and send them on their way. 

Well, you try. 

It seems from observation that the only one who is capable of impressing you is yourself. Hardly any different from your public life, really. 

You’re hideously skilled at convincing people to do things for you, and yet you seem to have tremendous difficulty with this. If only your lovers could dip into your mind. They’d know precisely how to give you what you’re chasing. 

He could. Not that he wants to. 

He’d never. 

When you’re alone, it’s different. There’s no bumbling presence obstructing you from him. No one to watch you suffer through pretend patience with as they try in vain to figure out how to please you. You know how to provide for yourself, and tonight is one such fortunate, lucky night.

He prefers it when you’re like this, like tonight: neatly in-view atop your mattress, sheets kicked away, minute little motions of your hand betwixt your legs. If he were human — if you knew you had an audience, it'd almost feel taunting, the way you never remove your underwear; no matter how inconvenient it appears to have them still on. The most gratifying part of it though, Aro finds, is when everything is over. When you’ve emerged from your haze, and the first thing you do is roll over, lift your smartphone from the bedside table, and cause his own device to buzz in his pocket.

A fleeting thought entertains your reaction to his correspondence at this very minute, with your dominant hand — as per usual — obscured by the fabric of your underwear. The potential of your irritation is delightful already, but the possibilities are snowballing; would it bother you enough to make you stop altogether? Would it stir you from your state, or would you keep going, as unbothered with his presence as you are your partners?

Perhaps —

Perhaps it would excite you. 

Venom pools beneath his tongue. Aro takes a moment to dampen his throat. His hand finds his pocket. Considering it. 

He could test how much power a text would have over you right now.

Then, something more reasonable stills him. For all his reflections, you could simply ignore him. Your phone could be on silent for all he knows, and while you’d never even know it, he would be forced to wear that as a loss.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

It’s best he doesn’t involve himself in the moment. Excitement doesn’t bode well for games of chance. 

Your posture stiffens. You’re on the brink. If he really wished it, he could hone in on you. Drown out the city noise and focus on what might be catching breaths and the tack of parting, wetted flesh. The fine hairs on the back of Aro’s neck stand on end. Fingers curl delicately around the phone in his pocket, thumb impatiently drifting back and forth along the glass. 

Then, after teetering for too long a moment, you slacken.

You give up. Drawing your hand out of your underwear and letting it fall beside you on the mattress while you glower at the ceiling. Aro, meanwhile, tugs his hand from his pocket with an unimpressed huff.

Amidst his own annoyance that you are already taking far too many seconds to pick up your phone, Aro notes that this has been an increasingly common ending for you. Not that he’s interested in that aspect of it. He couldn’t care less for the hormonal activities of a mate-less human. Even if the smell that permeates the home he bought you is — really quite something — especially in the minutes after. Normally, alone, you’re quite capable at this. 

Nowadays, much less so. 

He supposes it doesn’t matter, now. He’s more concerned with the far too many centimetres between your hand and the bedside table. Where the presence he’s trying to impose goes ignored. 

...

That does it.

He tugs his phone out of his pocket. Eyes emoji. Conveying expectation while committing to a funny little in-joke with just himself. That'll do nicely. Send.

Across the way, your own device lights up, and you stir from your annoyed state. Checking it nonchalantly. 

Then, you do something new. Angling the phone above your head the same way you've taught him to take the most flattering photographs on the go. Tugging the collar of your shirt outward.

You —

You can’t be doing what he thinks you’re doing. Not to him.

How vile. He’s fathoms beyond you. 

Aro's gaze flickers to his phone. 

Nothing on his end. Not yet.

Your device lowers. You hit send. 

Still nothing.

Perhaps there’s an issue with your reception. He should have received whatever tasteless picture you’d taken by now. 

Seconds pass. Then he’s tapping out another message. Nails clacking with more urgency on the screen. Two eyes emojis. Now that’ll get your blood pumping.

…

Now this is just getting ridiculous.

Rapid-fire pressing of buttons. Aro holds his phone to his ear. He scowls out the window, watching your thumb swipe far too slowly before you greet him.

“Hey, boss. Hot night out, huh? So much for Autumn.”

“What are you doing right now?” It's something of an effort to keep the question from sounding like an accusation.

“I’m sending photos of my tits to some slob on the internet.”

“Ah.” Disarmingly candid as usual, he thinks. “Did you consider it might be inappropriate to tell your mentor such a thing?”

“Pardon. I’m using wireless network technology to transfer illicit images of my body at the behest of an acquaintance who intends to use them to coax money out of a wealthy male — who, probably — finds it sexually thrilling to parted from said money. Is that formal enough?”

“How charitable. Look at that.” Aro comments, watching you peel yourself out of bed. “There’s a humanitarian in you after all.”

“If there was a humanitarian in me, I wouldn’t be working eight hours a day being your breadwinner.”

“Then I'm sure you'll have no qualms explaining why you stay for ten.” He ignores the clumsy euphemism, turning away from the window. He’s gotten the conversation on the right track. “Not including our quality time.”

“Speaking of — when are you dropping by?”

“I thought it might be more polite to wait until I was invited.”

“Aro.” Your voice lowers. Long-suffering. “You show up unannounced half the time.”

“You’re mistaken. No fault of your own. Humans don’t have the best memories.”

“Nice try.”

It’s then that Aro spies Caius turning onto the stretch of hallway. The blonde’s mouth opens, about to regard him before he takes notice of the call and shuts it.

“Two minutes.” Aro promises. 

“Wh-“

He hangs up. There’s no time to spare for your reply, lest present company develop further concerns. Caius has made it quite clear over recent weeks how much he protests the little arrangement the two of you have going on, and to be frank, Aro tends to hear less of it when he’s given as little ammunition as possible. Downplaying your existence entirely whenever you’re not in the room seems to be the only effective means of keeping the other man off his back. 

Not that he’d prefer to be chatting about you, anyway. Any interest regarding his new protege takes an immediate turn for the suspect.  “Aro.” The blonde greets curtly. 

”Caius.” Aro smiles back. “Enjoying the longer hours outside?”

Caius is onto him already. He’s far too acquainted with that sour expression to fool himself into thinking he’s not on his trail. “The hours are fine. What are you doing up here?”

“Admiring the altocumulus clouds.” He lies, inching to the centre of the window to cover as much of the view with his back as possible.

”Altocumulus clouds.”

”Indeed.”

“How sweet.” Caius sneers. “Let me see —“

“Come, since when have you taken an interest in cloud formations?”

“Since when have you been interested in cloud formations?”

Finally, the blonde succeeds. 

”Aro.”

”I’m keeping an eye on her to ensure she’s not doing anything nefarious.”

”Don’t lie.”

"Is it such a crime for me to simply watch?" Aro snaps. "It's not like you to have such little faith in me."

“Your agency is your own.” Caius says, reluctant to fathom the words. “But it’s only a matter of time until word spreads past the continent, and the questions arise.”

“Our answers are sound. Times are changing, Caius. If the vegetarians succeeded so well in training a mortal for their own collection, what’s the harm in us doing the same? We both know public relations haven’t been positive for a few decades. Perhaps having a potential in  the midst of the Guard wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

“That —“ Caius points over Aro’s shoulder, guiding his gaze across the street. You’ve vanished. Likely bathing. “— is not potential. That is a costly distraction.”

There’s an awfully long pause while Caius chooses his next words. Both of them know what he’s going to say. Both of them can’t stand to look at each other while he says it.

“How many centuries has it been since you visited Sulpicia?”

“Really now —“

“You’d do well to remember she exists.” Caius grunts. “I’m sure your wife would appreciate your visit.”

“Glass houses, dear Caius.”

“Just don’t make this another Carlisle.” The blonde warns. 

“Impossible.” Aro dismisses. “If this one fails, there won’t be a challenge in dispatching her.”

“And if you fail her too late, it could turn into an awful mess. Personalities like your pet go rogue.”

“Personalities like that one are easy to rein in with the right measures. Take Chelsea; she does whatever she’s told as long as she gets whatever she asks for. Our guest is no different. So long as we hold the scrap, the dog will follow.”

Words won’t get through to him. They rarely do. Caius's loyalty lies in firm philosophy, and contradictions are not to be tolerated even amongst his oldest allies. Aro relents, holding out his hand for the other man to take. “Show me how I can convince you, brother.”

Caius regards the gesture with a purse of his lips. His hands remain clasped in front of him, and something in Aro's chest stirs. Uneasy. It's not a sharp enough feeling to have him feeling threatened by the man, but it's enough to warrant concern. Caius would never snatch at helm. He's far too weak. Much too uncharismatic. But he, along with Marcus, make up the completed image of a functioning, harmonious unity. If his own brother in purpose is keeping something from him, it needs to be rectified immediately.

However, Aro's a little preoccupied right now. This time, the blonde's temper will have to simmer on its own for a few hours yet.

The best he can do now is respect Caius's boundary. Show poise. A human in their midst will not upset the integrity of the Guard, and the quickest way to making this clear is honesty. Business as usual.

Everything is under control.

“I don’t like the way the light bounces in this room, and I believe this window is at fault.” Caius declares. “It should be filled in, don’t you think, brother?”

Aro smiles for a moment longer than he knows he should. It doesn’t matter. They both know the gesture is hardly a fond one. “As you like.”

__________________________________

“Let me touch you.”

You blink at the smiling man at your doorstep. “Hello works, too.”

Vampires are persistent animals, you’ve learned — but none more so than Aro. Ever since he’d decided on going public with his decision to make himself something of mentor to you, the senior ranks among staff have all made it quite clear how royally you’ve fucked up by putting in your lot with them; how you had better hope you don’t lose your novelty by the time you die of natural causes, lest their leader grow bored with you. To the chagrin of most — and to your initial delight at the former — your days and nights through the end of Summer and most of Autumn have been in at least some aspect shadowed by Aro. 

His head tilts to the side, just a little as he examines your face. His gaze flits to your collar. “You’re flushed. Are you well?"

To his credit, Aro is probably the most streetwise person you've ever met. He may be ancient, but he's really not bad at keeping up with modernity, with societal change and evolution. He's got an answer to offer to any question you ask, and the ones he doesn't, he's simply keeping from you. That's where, you think, his intelligence falters. The first few times carries a Wow factor. A god, this guy knows everything. Then, he gets talking. Then, he gets long-winded. Then, he's insisting on his smarts. It becomes as inescapable as any other studious white guy flaunting passages he's picked up from books — only Aro's got a few thousand years more passages to cover.

Like most men you've encountered in life, even the ones that would swear otherwise, Aro's Achilles heel is he's utterly convinced that you're dumb.

You’re aware of how little he thinks of humans. Their creations and their impacts, he respects well enough, but individuals are little more than food. At first you’d assumed that the fuss he made over your wit was a polite ploy to force you upon his coven, but as the weeks have drawn on, it’s become clear that he genuinely expected you to be too stupid to realise the habits he’s picked up in regard to his studies of you. 

For instance, the gifted apartment with the gigantic fuck-off window angled directly at the tower he haunts. The way he knows exactly when to call you, where you are, and when you sleep to the minute. 

“Went for a run.” You answer, and his acknowledgement comes a second too late to feel organic.

You both know what you’ve been doing. Only he’s under the assumption you don’t know that he knows. It makes his allusions feel ham-fisted. Aro, it seems, gets sloppy when he thinks he’s in the lead.

The others have been honest with you: Aro’s interests are intense. This game has gotten under his skin, and he’s willing to use any advantage he has on you (an apparently inexhaustible list) to be the victor. You don’t really mind, to be honest. It’s a new vein of fun, being the subject of obsession. Maybe if it were a human following your every move, you’d be creeped out. Not to say that Aro doesn't set off alarm bells; he hits nearly every base in that regard. It's just that, normally, men who want to make a possession out of you are scores less interesting.

Aro steps forward, inviting himself past you, slowing to inhale. It occurs to you that you’ve never heard him breathe passively before. It’s not like he needs to. 

He’s fucking smelling you.

“I would never. Not without your permission.” He assures. A 'come on, please' dressed up to make it feel like you've got far more agency than just what his amusement allows.

“No, Aro.”

”Then hello will have to do.”

This man could kill you whenever he pleases. Instead, he goes out of his way to assure you he's a total consent king. A thousands-year-old blood-drinking monster who stalks your shadow day and night and a simple refusal has him completely enthralled with having you in his vicinity, alive. At least for a while. 

You’re not ashamed to admit it. It’s fun. There’s a fascination with Aro that keeps your own boredom at bay. Beyond the otherworldly aspects of him, beyond the flattery of fixation, you do enjoy trying to figure him out as much as he seems to enjoy figuring you out. There’s almost something familiar about him to you, but there's nothing in memory that you can compare him to. Maybe its just subconscious representations of Dracula in media throughout your childhood; likenesses that have almost absolutely been influenced by him.

If only he wasn't so annoying. You might be more inclined to fuck him sooner if he'd stop trying to read your mind every few hours.

“Why don’t you just go ahead and ignore me one of these days so I can save my breath.” You mutter, closing the door behind him.

“Where would be any fun in that? What we’re doing is far too much fun to fathom it.” Aro tuts, taking in the environment, scanning shelves and surfaces for anything new. It makes him happy to see his influence on your life, you’ve found. Like he has power over you. “Jane has a message she’d like me to pass on.” He waits until you motion for him to continue. “She’d like you to stop trying to make her smoke cigarettes.”

Little tattletale.

“S'not like it’ll give her cancer.” You retort. “Can vampires even develop addictions?”

“Heavens, no. It’s the principle. Besides, we could do without the smell sticking to the walls.”

“Like the meat and borax smell is so much better.”

“Why are you so intent on this?”

“Times have changed! You might have gotten to see it in your day, but this might be my only window to see a child smoking.”

Aro winces at that. “I wouldn’t advise wording it that way in her presence. She and Alec were burned at the stake.”

“Sounds like they could both do with a vice or two.”

“Oh, you are so charming.” Aro scoffs, making his way into the living room. “You know I’d adore if you made more of an effort to ingratiate yourself with my family. Personally, I think you’d make a handsome newborn. I’d like to see that happen before your life is forfeit. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Is that why you haven’t left me alone?” You ponder, pressing a mocking hand to your chest. “Are you grooming me?”

He gives nothing to your theatrics, sticking to his own. “There has been chatter. Nothing is ever set in stone until it reaches the court, but there’s a consensus.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re…” He pauses a few seconds, ensuring he’s captured enough of your attention that a cheery little smile won’t go wasted. “A list of expletives I won't lower myself to repeat, but one of the more friendly terms thrown around the room was 'bossy'.”

You take a seat, watching as the man begins to listlessly pace back and forth in front of you. “You know I didn’t sign on to be turned, right?”

Aro shoots you an amused look. “Yes, but why wouldn’t you want to be? You want to remain like —“ He gestures at you. “— this?”

Maybe he said the no offence part too quiet for you to pick up on. 

“None taken.” You offer, just in case. 

“Pardon?”

“Forget it.” Asshole. “I don’t know why you’re so keen for your coven to like me when most of them don’t even seem to like each other.”

 “Marcus likes you very much.” Aro informs, ignoring the latter statement. “Caius has his reservations.”

“You can say he wants me dead, Aro.”

“He might certainly like you more if he knew he could trust you. Caius is a bitter old man, but I understand his caution.”

“I’m not sure what would make you trust me.” You shoot back. “Especially when I never asked for you to tell me all this. I could be sitting down in Heidi’s office, none the wiser. If you ask me, the responsibility’s on you three for dragging me along for the murder tour.”

“A tour you happily continue to send your audience on.”

“I’m happy to do anything my job description states I get paid to do.”

The corner of Aro’s mouth twitches. He didn’t enjoy hearing that. He slows to a stop, bowing his head as he turns to regard you front-on. “They’re both of he opinion that while you refuse to be read, we can’t fully trust you. Playing nicely with others is a valuable trait to have. Our communities are small, and things flow better when we all get along.” He explains. “There’s no question, you’d be an enviable power, but that amounts to nought if you have to be put down for failing to play nice. It’s quite an investment, turning someone, especially in this — sensitive era. Decades of effort.”

You watch him from your spot on the couch. Never quite able to put your finger on what angle he’s playing. Your legs shift, creating a space, and after a moment, Aro takes the invitation. Sitting beside you. 

“So I’m either turned, or I’m dinner for your guards.” You conclude. “Just like all your other human staff.”

Aro makes a face at you. Theatrical sympathy. A gloved hand settles on your knee, and just as a little thrill runs through you, it retreats. Hm. “Oh, no. You’re my favourite, and you’re my catch. I’d be the one who eats you.”

“Can’t I just — stay human?” You ask. “I’m sorry but I sorta like what we’ve got going right now.”

“That—” Aro taps your shoulder with both index fingers. “— is exactly the root of contention. Your apathy. Without me seeing your soul, without anyone to use their gifts on you, there’s simply no telling how much faith we can put in your loyalty.”

“So how are you supposed to find out?”

“The old-fashioned way. With time. But, I’ll never stop asking you.” He says. Eye contact unbroken. “I would be honoured if you’d consider —“

His fingers stretch toward you, gesturing to be taken in yours. It’s not the touch you want.

“Yeah.” You acknowledge the action with a glance, and momentarily, his pupils constrict. Then, you do not move, and the muscles cornering his lips twitch downward. “I’ll consider it.”

He recovers with a renewed grin, inclining his head. “You realise you’re challenging an immortal to a game of patience.”

“Or a race to see who gets bored first.”

Maybe you should be throwing him a bone for refusing to kill and eat you, you wonder. Maybe you could be rewarding this game a little more.

Maybe there's a way for you both to get half a deal out of this.

Your fingertip finds his on the backrest of the couch, and there’s that little thrill again. A layer of leather between you and only a few centimetres of contact, but still, you find yourself quite content to feel along the backs of his knuckles through the material. 

His gaze flickers to the little movements. His throat bobs.

The smile fades, but there’s something much nicer about his face without it. More sincere.

Fuck it. It’s not like you’re having an affair. It's just a touch.

Aro's lips part. Brow stitched. Concerned. But he doesn't pull away.    

“I have a wife.”

…

That was not the direction of sincerity you were anticipating.

You have to hand it to you; you play it cool for a good two seconds before sitting up. “You have a wife.”

Aro straightens out as well, following suit after you’ve withdrawn your hand. “Forgive me. I’d like for us to be on the same page.”

He’s so convincing about this that you almost forget about his window habits. What a scumbag. Surely he could have mentioned being married at some point over these past few months. 

“No, we are. Totally platonic. Strictly professional.” 

Thank god you didn’t go through with sending that photo of your tits to him earlier.

“With the colder weather, our community has more opportunity to congregate in the coming weeks.” Aro explains, gaze now fixed ahead. “You’ll get the opportunity to meet her. As well as our wider network —“

“Is that a good idea?” You ask. “Introducing your wife to a new assistant, to whom you spend majority of your week begging to touch? See, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been fielding some pretty pointed questions about what we get up to together.”

“I don’t beg.” He retorts. “But I do insist. It would be beneficial for you to acquaint yourself with Sulpicia and Athenadora—“

”Two—?”

“Caius’s—“

”Caius has a wife—?”

”It would look better from an outsider’s perspective.” Aro hisses, patience wavering. His eyes — just a little more red these days than you remember them being — fix you to the spot, scowling disproportionate frustration. "Is it really so difficult to fathom that our friends might benefit from having a better idea — the right idea — about us? It would be nice to dispel a few rumours before they become a wildfire."

You hold his gaze, refusing to fold. “Just say everyone thinks that you’re fucking a human.”

That earns you a particularly revolted scoff. He breaks away first. Victory. “Don’t be so crass.”

If you were immortal, would he be so outraged by the prospect? Regardless, you get the feeling that even if you were, he’d still be forcing you into this situation anyway. He’d still have rumours to shirk and a reputation to maintain. Even if you weren’t so foul to him, there’s no way he’d sacrifice that to elevate your own status. 

No, there’s a reason this conversation’s wiped that smarmy little smile off his face, and it goes beyond your humanity.

“I’ll bring my own date. A human.” You propose. “You’ll be honest. Introduce me as your protege. Then you’ll introduce my plus one. Move the attention to them. Act familiar.”

Aro considers that. His tongue shifts between his teeth. “That works. They’ll know you as a couple rather than a spinster. Marcus could vouch for you, so long as you source from another province.”

“Done.”

“Excellent.” Aro inclines his head, sealing the deal. “You’ve a knack for deception.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a real affinity for bullshit.” You say, drily. “Must be why I’m the only person who likes you.”

The corners of his mouth tug. A crooked, organic smile. Then, it turns symmetrical again. Manufactured. “Perhaps you should let me touch you.”

You hum thoughtfully, and the lack of outright denial this time has Aro lurching into your space. One hand braced on the back of the couch. The other already poised to remove his glove. “Perhaps I’d let you if you made good on those rumours.”

Aro stills. Glassy eyes unblinking, imperceptible. You can’t tell if he’s terrified or furious — but that stupid smile falters, and you smell blood in the water. 

“Shame you can’t stomach it.” You continue, pushing yourself up into his space, now, shepherding him out of yours. “Looks like you’ll have to keep pretending from the window.”

Silence stretches between you. Aro’s lip curls.

“Don’t misunderstand our rapport. You are a subject to me, and if you aren’t cautious, you will find yourself beyond my interest.” He warns, and just like that, you’re knocked off your pedestal.

He —

No fucking way.

Is he gaslighting you? Your own stalker, negging you?

Your gaze hardens. ”I think you should get off my couch and go back to your wife now, Aro.”

”Oh, don’t be discouraged.” Your own anger seems to crack through his. Aro fixes you with an amused little chuckle, and you feel the ghost of a gloved fingertip graze your chin. “Consider it incentive to play nice. I don’t want you, but the concept of taking you would be far more agreeable if you were immortal. If nothing else serves to encourage you —“

“I get it. From now on I’ll close the shades before I masturbate.”

”Goodnight."

[stylesavingssavvy]

How to Save Money on Beauty Products Online: A Complete Guide 

Introduction: 

Keeping up with the latest beauty trends in the modern world can occasionally feel like a financial burden. But do not worry! Saving money on your favorite beauty products has never been simpler, thanks to innovative shopping platforms like Redfynd. Whether you're shopping for skincare, haircare, cosmetics, or other basics for your beauty routine, this guide will take you through five easy steps to help you look amazing on a budget.   

Identify what you need: 

Understand Your Beauty Regimen Needs: Take some time to determine what you require before sinking into the world of online cosmetic shopping. Are you in need of a new serum, or are you almost out of your favorite lipstick? Determining exactly what you need will keep you concentrated and prevent you from making pointless purchases, ultimately resulting in financial savings.  

Do a personal assessment. Assess your skin type, hair type, and any specific concerns you might have (like acne, fizziness, or pigmentation) to better understand your needs. For accurate advice and to ensure you choose products that offer effective results without side effects, consider consulting with a dermatologist, especially if you’re dealing with sensitive skin or serious beauty concerns.  

Create an Inventory List: Develop the habit of maintaining an inventory list of your current beauty products. This not only prevents you from buying duplicates but also helps you avoid purchasing multiple products for the same purpose. Utilize apps or simple spreadsheets to track the usage and expiration dates of products you already own. Alongside your inventory, keep a wishlist of items you want to explore. Prioritize this list based on your most-needed items and include products that come highly recommended or have top-rated reviews.  

Conduct thorough research by reviewing customer ratings: 

After you have a clear idea of what you want, it's time to do a little homework online. Conduct Research the product and make sure it matches your concerns, skin type, and hair type. See online reviews to see if you are buying make-up and how it looks after application. Examine many online merchants to locate the greatest offers and compare prices. Keep an eye out for deals, discounts, and package deals that will enable you to spend less on cosmetics. Avoid impulsive buying.  

Spend a little time reading feedback from others before making a purchase. This can help you prevent costly errors by providing insightful information on the efficacy and quality of a product. To be sure you're receiving the most value for your money, look for items with high ratings and reviews that are positive.  

Use Comparison Sites like Redfynd to Compare Prices: 

Comparison websites like Redfynd, in addition to cashback, may be very helpful resources for online shoppers looking to save money on beauty items. These websites make it simple to locate the greatest bargain without spending hours searching the internet by allowing you to compare prices from several stores all in one location.  

Redfynd is the largest beauty comparison site with more than 1.5 million skincare and makeup products and 15+ beauty retailers, including Nykaa, Myntra, Tira, Ajio, Taacliq Palette, Sephora, etc.  

Whenever you're looking for a new hair oil, shampoo, hair styling gel, or comparison website, they may assist you in finding the best deal. Additionally, a lot of comparison websites include thorough product evaluations and information to aid in your decision-making. You can purchase with confidence knowing that you're getting the greatest bargain possible on all your favorite beauty goods thanks to comparison sites' simplicity and savings.  

Utilize Cashback Sites like Redfynd: 

Platforms like Redfynd provide an easy-to-use but efficient means of getting money back on cosmetic purchases. All you must do is register, shop on their site, and watch as your savings increase with each transaction. It's like getting rewarded for shopping for your preferred face mask, face wash, or cleanser. To help you save more money, with Redfynd, you can find the best deals that are available in any online store in India. You can begin receiving cashback on all your cosmetic purchases with only a few clicks, and you can gradually see your savings grow.   

Conclusion: 

Shopping online for cosmetics doesn't have to be a difficult way to save money. You can buy more wisely and get more beauty for your money by following the above five easy steps: figuring out what you need, researching, using cashback and comparison websites, and checking user ratings. So, feel free to treat yourself to a wonderful mascara or to that lip gloss without breaking the bank!   

[liaromancewriter]

Choices: Successful or Not? It Depends

I'm a data geek so this isn't the first time I've talked about PB and Choices financial success. Here's the post based on Nexon's Q1 financial reporting. Q2 numbers are out on August 9.

Choices is losing revenue year on year, and hasn't been able to beat that trend. The outlook is that revenue will continue to go down. Revenue isn't profit though (profit is revenue less expenses). If Choices can create books at a low cost, the more profit they make. They can do this by reusing artwork (for example).

According to some industry analyses I found the app is successful based on key mobile app metrics. There are several, but here are a few:

Monthly downloads

Active users (monthly and daily)

Daily sessions per daily active users

Monetization: Subscriptions (like VIP) and In-app purchases (diamonds, keys, sales, etc.)

Average session length (how long someone spends on the app at one time)

Retention rate (users that keep coming back)

Churn rate (industry stat is that 70-90% of users delete an app within 3 days of download) -- Choices doesn't appear to have that problem

Choices is one of the most downloaded and top-grossing narrative games. In that category, Choices is successful from a revenue perspective.

If you're interested, here are two blog posts to help you understand the areas in which Choices is successful:

Choices monetization strategy

The non-discounted, cheapest diamond pack ($1.99) is the game’s bestseller. Also, the smallest key pack is among the top three. This tells us that Choices players’ tendency is not to spend a lot of money on single packs.  Players buy diamonds because they crave getting the best possible outcomes. On the other hand, the main motivation to purchase keys is to play longer sessions. Players definitely don’t lack the motivation to spend money on this game. At the same time, it doesn’t make non-payers feel powerless.

Choices advertising narrative

The second article in particular is interesting because their ad strategy is very successful (despite how ridiculous I find them personally). Also, the app is clearly marketed toward women and they're the ones spending money. So, Choices isn't changing its strategy anytime soon.

According to Bidalgo, a company that did ad testing and research for Choices, Pixelberry’s goal is to reach high-value users. In other words, the goal was not to acquire just any users but those that are most likely to make an in-app purchase.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Building Block Figs - Beautiful Fight Scene in the Middle of the Lake (Part One)

Figthusiast friends, it's time for a little something different! Today we have the first of a series of building block Word of Honor fig sets.

I first saw these sets earlier this year when I was browsing for figs on Xianyu, my favorite secondary market app. I stopped my scrolling in total surprise when I first saw a picture, and was like wait...are these actually Lego-type Word of Honor figs??? I zoomed in, and lo and behold, they sure were.

I absolutely loved Legos when I was a kid. My family didn't have enough money to be able to buy much in the way of expensive toys, but I did save up my babysitting money so I could buy a few of them myself. It took a long time at $1.50 an hour!

So, of course when I saw these, the nostalgia factor combined with my fandom fig obsession made these a must buy.

Today's fig is that the first set I found. It's called (via MTL) "Beautiful Fight Scene in the Middle of the Lake", which I must congratulate for being extremely descriptive and 100% accurate.

As soon as I saw this, I did an immediate search on Taobao and Weidian to see if I could just buy the set vs. pick it up off Xianyu. For two reasons. One, I can buy directly off Taobao (vs using a third party purchase agent for Xianyu), and two, I was hoping there was more in the series than this one figure. However, they were no longer being sold on either platform, so Xianyu it was.

I browsed around and was lucky enough to find a seller on Xianyu that did, in fact, have other sets in the series, and who was clearing them all out, brand new and unopened. She noted that she was still a fan, she just had never had the time to put these together and realized now with her workload she probably never would. I bought all three of her sets, including this one, for about $37 total, which is about half off the retail of 179 yuan per set they originally went for (about $25 each). I thought this was a great deal considering the actual costs of specialized Lego sets these days, even non-branded building block sets.

As far as I can tell, there are four big sets that are famous scenes from the show, and three small sets that are just our two favorite leads only. I was able to buy the three big scenes off that one person, and one of the set of figs-only, but I'm still missing some (too many!). I keep checking Xianyu. I was actually surprised to see the other day there was another set I didn't know existed - but sadly it ended up being sold out. I'll keep looking.

Anyway!

The Beautiful Fight Scene in the Middle of the Lake is a 1,236 piece set, measures 8.4 x 16.8 x 12.4 cm, and it's rated about 8 hours to complete. It's the fastest of the big sets (the remainder of which are rated 10, 10, and 11 hours respectively). In retrospect, should I have started with the smaller figs-only set (rated 2 hours)? Probably. But I was just so charmed by this set, and I only have one lake fig set to date, so this seemed like something very fun. Plus, as you will hear about later, I did not fully understand the specs until well after I was almost done assembling the very last set.

I had a surgical procedure that was scheduled this month (and is why I've been out of commission for a while), and I had specially saved up these sets as fun projects to make while I was recovering. I figured it would be nice to have something to look forward to.

So, post surgery, once I felt up to sitting up, I made myself a comfy little nest and settled in with my little boxes of treasures.

This is the pic from the seller - you would never know these were Word of Honor sets. They're just generic boxes from the manufacturer, with a small sticker on the top to indicate what set it is, along with a QR code.

I excitedly opened up the box, to find a bag o'bricks, a small black plastic piece and another sticker with QR code.

It turns out the little black plastic piece is a super handy little tool to quickly and easily break assembled bricks apart. Which is great if you accidentally assemble any steps incorrectly, as I would soon find out.

The QR code was for the directions, which were, in a quantum technological leap forward from my admittedly decades ago Lego experiences, online and fully 3-dimensional.

Pretty cute! I decided to go in order, and indeed start with the simple looking raft.

As a side note, I will tell you that I started this completely sure I was going to be able to assemble this set in an afternoon. I had somehow completely missed the MTL for the estimated assembly time until literally just now, as I was translating pics for this blog post. The set seemed fairly small in the picture, and while it has indeed been decades since I put together a Lego set, I'm (literally) an old hand at it. I felt extremely confident. Overconfident, you might say, given that my exact mental words to myself as I clicked on the raft image was, I'm gonna knock this thing out in no time.

Doesn't look like much, does it?

I figured that before I did anything else, I would sort by colors and shapes, so when I was ready to get started, I could move really fast. So I sorted. And sorted. And sorted some more. The bag doesn't look like a lot of bricks, but let me tell you, there were a LOT (1,236, which once again, I only realized until I was researching for this very blog post). Unlike Legos, these were all thin single-brick height, so there were no 4x4x4 type bricks, for example. It made it easier to sort, but as I was sorting (and sorting some more), I realized that it might take a lot of building to get significant height going.

Eventually, after about an hour, I got them all sorted, and felt very accomplished, if a bit tired. I took a little nap, and then settled back into my crafting nest, and then got ready to, and I quote myself once again, bang this sucker out.

The directions started with an image of the final product, which was helpful.

I will say the online direction interface was pretty amazing. I could zoom in, spin around, go upside down, view it any which way I wanted to by pinching and pulling at my phone's screen. It was fantastic, and certainly made it much easier. That little circle on the right side is the "next direction" button, and helpfully the number in the circle tells you how many steps you have left. There were 34 steps in this raft, and you can tell by the number here I'm not too far along.

Here's a little further as I gamely plug along. I got momentarily confused early on by the colors - there's a dark blue, a medium blue, and a light blue, and I had started assembling the raft with medium blue instead of dark blue. I got to figure out how useful that brick de-assembler was real fast, let me tell you. I also started screenshotting and translating the colors until I felt I had a good handle on what exact colors I should be picking.

You can see here how I can zoom in to figure out exactly where to place the bricks. You can't tell by the screenshot, but the bricks you are laying in each particular step blink, and are outlined in dark black like you see in the shot above. It's very handy.

I got into a groove pretty quick. For each step, I'd count and select the bricks shown in the little legend at the bottom, and put them in a little pile next to me. I did this to make sure I used up all the bricks each layer, as early on I was just following the directions and not realizing that some steps you had to put the brick underneath other ones, which would not be visible on the blinking screen unless I pinched and pulled the model to flip it around on the screen. If I got to the end of the step and still had bricks left, I knew one (or more) were hiding, and I could rotate the image around until I found where they should go. Yes, I did learn this the hard way, naturally.

After a good long time, I finally finished the raft! I will say, I was a bit puzzled that the raft is green and blue, as we well know the raft in the show is just bamboo.

Did I re-watch the scene just to make triple sure? I sure did!

So there's actually two rafts, this simple one here in the foreground, and then the bigger, sturdier raft there behind the boat. It's this first raft that this set is capturing, and more or less this moment, if not at such an acute angle.

I may actually rearrange the figures to be in this particular configuration later. Stay tuned!

It turns out that the raft is these colors because (now that I've put a lot of them together) the company doesn't appear to make many brick colors. The blues are unusual in the sense there are actually three different shades. The red bricks I have have only ever been one fire engine red color, and the brown bricks only one medium brown. So, rather than make the raft uniformly all brown, they made it colorful with the blue and green, perhaps to simulate the water. I admire the colorful nature of it, but I have to say, I'm contemplating re-doing the raft when I finish all the kits. Each kit has leftover bricks, and I seem to have a lot of brown bricks left over. I think I'm going to try remaking this with a brown raft base and black for the lines instead, with some blue and more of the transparent bricks to simulate water. Stay tuned for that, too!

So, by the time I finished the raft, I was beat. Super tired, and surprised it took as long as it did. BUT, I reasoned it only made sense since it was the very first piece I did, so naturally it would take longer than most. It was time to sleep.

The next day, I woke up bright and early, on a mission. On to Wen Kexing!

I started confident (confidence is never my problem, unfortunately, but it is sometimes A problem) that now that I had experience, I could in fact, bust this bad boy out.

I was merrily assembling away, and I happened to take a closer look at the directions - specifically, the little number in the bottom circle.

I don't know if you can see this number, but it is two of Gong Jun's favorite number 88. That's right, EIGHTY-EIGHT. I was like, what?!? How many was there in this figure? I've been going for a while (answer, as I scrolled back through the directions, is 111).

Remember how I said that these are all single-ply building bricks? Yep. Takes a bunch to turn them into a tall, yet humble philanthropist. Well, the only way out is through, right?

The directions kept having me assembling parts, and then having me set them aside for later. It looked nothing like a mild and gentle scholar, but I've found that, similar to life and perhaps also Ikea assembly instructions, sometimes you just have forge ahead and take it on faith that things are gonna work out.

Ah ha! Suddenly it IS starting to make a little sense. I recognize that costume!

(Sidebar to say, we all recognize this costume! And we know this gorgeous pale green outer robe is not, in fact, blue. I was slightly taken aback by this until I realized later the thing about the factory's lack of colors. The bright, intense grass green of the only green option (other than neon green, ahahaha) would have been even less suitable for our peacock's fine feathers, so actually this is a very good choice).

MAY I also note that number in the bottom right hand circle is 55. FIFTY-FIVE.

I'm gonna fast forward through the naps and the breaks, and just take one quick other picture break:

I just about cheered when I got to this point! I was like, oh there he is! You can also tell by the quality of light and the shadows that it was late at night at this point. On a different day.

Anyway, we arrive at the glorious conclusion:

Hooray! I was so happy and tickled at this point. I was just so charmed by him. His little rosy cheeks, his side wispies on his hair, the motion of him standing on one foot. The back of his hair is fantastic too, although you can't see it here yet.

On to our beloved A-Xu...

May I just say how DELIGHTED I am that this is indeed hobo-Xu? His little beard and goatee combo in brick form just made me giggle.

First thing, I checked to see how many steps our reclusive hobo had. 115, which I appreciated for Zhang Zhehan's birthday kadian, if nothing else.

You can tell by the colors and shadows that once again this is a different evening, here on step 77 and about to graduate to step 76:

Once again it looked pretty unrecognizable, except that now I had done one fig, I was starting to understand kind of where they were going.

Plus, Lao Wen got to watch this time. In the daytime, as you can tell by the nice bright light.

Annnd it's night time again. Ahahahaha, I love this fig! I really like how they did his bangs. You can see here too some of his glorious black hair streaming out behind him.

By the way, at this point the tips of my fingers were quite sore in a stingy kind of oversensitive way. Sadly, typing away at a keyboard all the time (also for decades!) at my desk job has in no way toughened up my fingers. I did not think snapping bricks into place and pushing down on them to squeeze them tightly together would tax them so much. Sitting here typing this, actually, my fingers are still sore (I am admittedly working my way though the last set, the 11 hour one).

It's yet another (different) evening, and at last, A-Xu is here! I was so happy to get to this point!

Annnnd I'm out of picture slots to do the full beauty 360 degree spin of these two. Sorry to make you wait (although you may be tired of such a massive post already!), but come back tomorrow for Part Two!

Material: Plastic building bricks

Fig Count: 500 (I'm gonna wait to count these until tomorrow)

Scene Count: 32 (same)

Rating: Lots of fun, actually. I'll give the in-depth low-down tomorrow!

[link to the Master Post Index]

[helenarlett-rex]

So if you've ever heard of Game X Change before, it is the 2nd biggest retail chain of used video games in the United States. This company is second only to Game Stop. Which I guess isn't hard to do when Game Stop is already a dying company... I happen to work for this company.

I should point out that this company is actually broken up between a couple of different owners. Each owner running a handful of different stores in different sections of the country. The man who runs the store I work at... will not be named... but what I will tell you is that he is a rich frat boy who was born into money, never had to work a day in his life, and then married a literal Saudi Arabian oil princess on top of that. This man doesn't need Game X Change... It's just a pet project because he thought it would be cool to own a chain of game stores. Why he thought that would be cool, I have no idea... Because he knows nothing about gaming... He knows nothing about geek culture as a whole... He knows nothing about ANYTHING any of his stores sell... This is probably why we are a store that depends on trade-ins for all of our stock while still offering the lowest trade-in values in town. On everything except video games, that is... We have an app that makes sure we offer a fraction more than Game Stop on all video game trade-ins... But on literally everything else, the amount we will give you for your stuff is just insulting. Generally speaking, we offer 10% of what we are going to turn around and sell it for. 20% if you will accept in-store credit instead of cash... That's pathetic. If you bring in a Pokemon card worth $100, I'm going to offer you $10 for it... There is literally a card shop right on the other side of town that will pay more than that. If I drive an hour into the city, I can find card shops that will pay as much as 50%.

Our company is so bad at what it does, we are $200,000 in the hole on comic books... We buy comic books for $0.05 and then turn around and resell them for $1.00 each. And somehow we are $200,000 in the hole doing that... I don't even know how you do that... That math doesn't work...

But maybe I should also mention that our owner is a raging cocaine addict who is always coked out of his mind... That could maybe have something to do with it...

Either way, today he came up with a great new plan for the company. He is testing this idea out on a couple of different stores, and mine happens to be one of them. What is this new plan...?

"The company isn't making enough money to keep up with my growing habit. Stop buying and selling DVDs."

Oh... but... DVDs make up half of our sales... Half of our customers only come in here because we are the only place in town where you can even get DVDs... If we stop selling them, we are going to lose half of our customer base... And I mean... we're doing really well on DVDs. We buy them for $0.15 each and then resell them for $4.99 each. We're making money...

"We're going to make it up in a different area. I want everyone to focus on used collectables instead. Like, action figures and shit."

Oh... but... we don't even pay value on those... We have a flat rate trade-in value based on size... It doesn't matter if a figure is worth $500 or nothing at all, if it's six inches tall we are paying $1.50 for it no matter what... People won't sell to us at those prices... Literally everyone who comes in with that sort of thing refuses to sell to us when they hear what we are offering... Most of them get mad at us for wasting their time and insulting them with those low offers... You are taking away our best product and telling us to focus on selling the one product we can't get...

"If this doesn't work, it's the staff's fault for not working hard enough. I'm strongly implying that all managers should fire their staff if sales don't improve under these new instructions."

And so, yeah... That was my day today... I really didn't want to have to start looking for a new job again, but like, this place is going to go out of business at this rate...