#until they go under or turn a profit

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I post about house stuff there’s always some well meaning people and the occasional vindictive shit head who thinks we didn’t have our home inspected before we bought it.

We did. It passed the private inspection we paid for in order to get our mortgage and two inspections done by the city.

The problem with my house is that it was owned by a landlord who did all kinds of illegal and sketchy shit to maximize capacity and resale value but also would require you to take down walls to find. And for those of you unaware, they don’t let you walk around with a saw and cut holes to inspect behind the drywall.

The shithead hid things behind fake walls. Literally. He put a bunch of chemicals and paints into a crawl space then drywalled over it. There is drywall on top of drywall (or there was before we took it down). He put carpet over the asbestos tiles—which is technically fine. It’s safer to seal asbestos away than remove it… except he also covered the drain for the house so the basement floods and then the carpet rots and in turn starts breaking down the asbestos tiles, making them into a hazard. He built the basement himself so that the drywall was sitting on the concrete slab—something we couldn’t see without removing the trim—causing them to wick moisture from the floor and rot until we had black mold everywhere.

The electric parts that were visible were all up to code, but again, anything that could be hidden was done so, hiding shit like a dishwasher that had been hot wired into the wall through a light plate fixture under the sink. Or the 240v socket that used to power an electric stove which had been pulled through the floorboard to power the tumble dryer. (Or the gas stove that we swapped for electric because it kept trying to kill us and then we realized he’d run a gas pipe from the water heater to power it. The plumber swore a lot about that one when he finally realized that one.)

Plumbing all looked good until you realized some of the new pipes were just pvc cut to go around the old lead pipes. Something you couldn’t see unless you got up close and personal during the inspection, and we’re talking up on a ladder jiggling the pipes around which is also generally something don’t let you do. Not to the extent we would have needed to.

The man was unhinged. And there’s very little we can do about it because we signed an “as is” thing on our mortgage thinking most of the repairs we’d need to do would be minor. Only to find out the house which looked fairly modern and well kept on the surface was actually a fucking Saw trap. And now because of all the shit we’ve uncovered, we have to fix it before we can sell it because no one in their right mind will buy a house with declared asbestos—even predatory developers hesitate on that one.

So if we’ve got to fix this place up, we’ll fix it up for us because god knows, even if we managed to sell this place, we can’t afford the mortgage rates right now. (And while yes, apartments are an option, they make my MCAS a lot less stable because you can’t control the shit your neighbors use, nevermind things like a shared laundry facility where everyone wants to smell like “a spring summer breeze” that to me smells like death by fragrance induced anaphylaxis.)

So yes, we’re stuck with this place. For now. A place we had inspected multiple times and were still let down by the reality that people hide things and will do so in the most imaginative ways possible if it means they can make a profit.

The furnace dying the instant we moved in wasn’t a good sign, but shit happens. That’s home ownership. The gas leaks we had last week? Also home ownership. It had passed yearly inspections up until now. Appliances break down and require maintenance, especially gas ones. In an ideal world we would have gotten another five years out of the furnace, but alas, it chose death so we had to yeet it.

So, yeah, if you’re the shithead currently going off in my inbox about “stupid people winning stupid prizes” I’ll take that apology now.

[seosracha]

──── Room 69 , sim jaeyun

⸻ Room Sixty-Nine, where love is made

SYNOPSIS ⸻ As your parents' company fails to outperform others, you find yourself in the midst of a new financial situation and on the search for a new apartment. The roommate you stumble upon has no intentions of getting to know you better and well- you wonder how long it'll take until he fucks you.

PAIRING ⸻ roommate!jake x fem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, smut

TAGS ⸻ smoking, foul language/cursing, jake is weird and stalkerish?, making out, dom!jake, oral sex (m. receiving), degrading, unprotected sex, creampie

WC ⸻ 7k

⸻ NSFW CONTENT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI. this is purely fiction made for entertainment purposes only. do not like= don't read.

You were broke. Triple digits that usually decorated your bank account slowly turned into double digits, as you tried to endure the new reality. It was hard to let go of your usual habits, spending money like it had absolutely no value, living a lavish life and going out every Friday. Now, you had to count every penny. Instead of purchasing a basket load of expensive fruit and drinks, you were forced to reach for the cheapest bread and milk in order to survive. 

Maybe you were exaggerating. Your parents' company hadn't gone completely bankrupt, yet. The technology department, which brought in the most profit, had endured a sudden decline due to a new company, which had stolen all their clients. Maybe they were exaggerating too, the other four departments running just fine. 

Even with that, they had decided it would be best if you gave up your expensive apartment and spending mania. You would live without spending such amounts monthly, but you definitely wouldn't survive without your city view apartment. 

Since you were little you dreamt of moving out, and living in one of those high up buildings only the richest could afford. And upon viewing the apartment for the first time it was everything you had imagined. Down to the spruce wood kitchen and bottle green tiles in the bathroom. 

But here you were, intensely searching through apartment listings, hoping to find something equally nice for a good price. 

You had hoped your best-friend, Minjeong would offer you to move in with her, knowing she had a spare room in her apartment not far away from your own, but her boyfriend's move in had crushed that desire to the ground. 

You didn't want to let the thought sink in, but you knew you’d have to get a roommate. You knew that was the only solution for your poor financial situation. Unfortunately for you, any of your friends that were potential roommate material, either lived with their parents still or weren't looking to share a place with anyone. 

You had honestly put off the search for a long time, hoping you’d soon get a call from your parents saying they had finally given up on this stupid idea of cutting your monthly budget in half, but it never happened. 

One offer caught your attention, the monthly rent wasn't too bad, allowing you to still live comfortably, the deposit was also doable, and the room was just fine. 

With a few clicks, a message chain between you and your hopefully new leasing agent had formed. You prayed the offer was still available, slowly warming up to the place, analyzing every detail about the apartment through the numerous pictures attached to the advert. 

Soon enough, the generous and kind Mister Choi Jaeyoung had responded with a short confirmation and a list of information regarding his availability and precise location of the complex. You had agreed on a short tour of the apartment, but by now you had already memorized every corner. You’d probably give him a better tour of that place at this point than he could. 

“This would be your room” he pointed with his hand, gesturing you to enter the space to look around. 

It was even better in real life, the sun shined brightly through the large window, and the closet was bigger than you expected. Obviously, it was nothing compared to your high ceiling bedroom that included a bathroom and medium sized wardrobe, but still it satisfied you enough to sign all the papers your new leasing agent threw at you. 

“That room, right there” he said looking up to the closed door “-is your roommate's, Jake’s, room” he said, and you nodded. 

“Is he here?” you asked, hoping to meet him. 

You wondered why the boy hadn't come out by now in order to introduce himself to you. I mean, you two were going to be living with each other for a long time, it would be nice to at least see what kind of man he was. 

“I don't think so. Even if he is, I wouldn't recommend bothering him” he answered, and you tilted your head, confused. 

“Why? Don’t tell me he’s like fucked in the head or something” you cursed yourself for the choice of words. 

The older man laughed “No, Jake is a nice guy, but I reckon he’s just a little more on the introverted side. He treasures his peace more than anything, let’s say it like that” 

“I think I can respect that,” you smiled. 

“There was someone here before you, but he was definitely a talkative person, and I guess he didn't like the fact that Jake wasn't,” Jaeyoung added, and you nodded. 

“That really isn't a good enough reason to move out” you laughed lightly and so did the man beside you. 

You felt a bit uneasy at his words. Was Jake really that bad? Obviously your leasing agent, who was too nice for his own good, wouldn't admit to Jake being a complete lunatic with a fucked up sleep schedule, or something even worse than that. But the place was pretty tidy, it calmed your mind a little bit. 

“With that being said, you can move in as soon as you’d like. If you need any help with moving your belongings, I’d be more than happy to help you find a nice moving company. You really can't trust people with your stuff these days” he smiled kindly and you thanked him for the tour. 

You guessed you’d have to figure out your mysterious roommate on your own. 

_____ 

It had been a week since you moved in. A whole seven days had passed, and you haven't even seen his face. 

You hoped that maybe he’d offer you a helping hand with all the moving boxes, and furniture, but Jake didn't even bother to come out of his room the day of your move in. 

You knew he was there. You had passed by his room, hearing a quiet melody coming from his room or an indecipherable chatter. You considered knocking, introducing yourself, but the words of your landlord kept ringing in your ears, keeping you away from that door. 

“Isn't he going to like, help us?” Minjeong mumbled, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead. 

She had been helping you move everything in since 9AM, and Jake hadn't even budged. You were debating asking him instead of Minjeong, finally getting a chance to let yourself be known to him, but then again you knew he’d decline, or worse, not give you an answer at all. 

“Doesn’t he need to use the toilet? Or eat?” Minjeong asked, sitting down on your bed, the two of you struggled to build. “A real man should have made an initiative to help, and build this furniture” she added, looking around at the still boxed up closet and desk. 

Sizing down your living space also meant getting rid of your ridiculously large furniture, that had absolutely no right fitting into this small room. Then again, it was great to use some of the pieces as bribery, you knew Minjeong would never agree to do this for free. 

“I don’t care, but it is kinda creepy” you said, sitting down on the chair next to your dresser. 

You weren’t alone, but that’s what it felt like. You wondered what he looked like. You had looked him up on Instagram, Tiktok, even Facebook, but none of the profiles under his name matched the information you had about him. 

“It is! What if he’s like a 40 year old creep that lurks in these areas of town cause he knows this is where most students live” she inquired, and it made you feel uneasy. The story sounded plausible, and that’s when you felt like going into his room ‘by accident’ just to see him would be the best idea. 

“Don’t say that, you’re freaking me out” you said, and she laughed lightly. It was unlikely, to be completely realistic, but you could never truly know until you saw him. 

“If he turns out to be weird, you can always stay with me” she reassured, walking over to the mirror. 

“And listen to Heeseung getting his dick wet all night long? Yeah, no thank you” you half smiled, and she laughed. 

“Better than a 40 year old pervert” she pointed out, and you were forced to agree with the girl. 

Minjeong sighed turning to you “I swear I’m going to knock on his door myself if you don’t do it” 

You shook your head. You’d rather torture yourself with all the things that were yet to be done, than reach out to Jake. 

“You know what my landlord said, he could kill me in my sleep if I bother him” you warned, and she sighed once again, her gaze falling on the numerous boxes. 

“I have to leave soon, are you seriously going to do all this by yourself?” she asked, and you nodded with a sad expression on your face “You should ask Jay to help you” she grinned evilly. 

You chuckled “We’re not that close” 

“Oh c’mon, I’m not telling you to have sex with him on your precious newly built bed, just ask him for a little help. Have you seen his muscles, he can take all these boxes at once” she said, and you hid your face in your hands, smiling “And stop acting like you don’t want him. You can’t hide anything from me” 

Jay was hot. Really fucking hot. He was tall, well proportioned with long legs and a muscular torso. He carried himself so well, with a style that was so different, and a captivating face. He was also a well known frat boy and stoner, but you didn’t mind, it wasn’t anything unusual. One of the things Jay liked about you is that you weren’t naive- he knew he wasn’t the only one you were fucking around with, and you knew you weren’t his only girl. 

“I can handle it, don’t worry” 

Minjeong had left, leaving you alone with all the unmade furniture, unpacked boxes and thoughts regarding your roommate. 

What if he truly was a 40 year old, unemployed man who earns all his money from his parents? 

Or a discord mod, who has awful posture, and a dent in his head from the constant use of headphones? 

But then again, you saw the food in the fridge, he had already cleared up two shelves for you, but his own contained a healthy variety of food, which calmed your mind in some way. The same went for the bathroom, it was clean, all his things were organized, and the products he used seemed to be those a rather younger person would use. 

His music taste also contradicted all your suspicions and theories. You noted that he listened to a lot of RnB, and from time to time he’d play some rap or hip hop. 

That’s how your first week went by, analyzing every detail, and attempting to listen in on any conversations he’d have, just to finally get an idea of who your secretive roommate was. 

On friday you came back from your pilates class, something you refused to give up, crying in front of your parents to let you have at least one thing. They were reluctant, but gave in sooner than you thought they would. 

You were extremely spoiled, and there was no point in denying it. You were raised that way, and you found peace in using that as an excuse for your behavior. 

Some part of you was expecting to catch Jake in the bathroom or kitchen, hoping you’d finally get to speak to him but the only thing of his that you came home to was a handwritten note with numerous household rules. 

It made you laugh. It’s not like he was paying more than you, but still he thought he had any right to boss you around in your own place. And his handwriting- it was awful. No matter how serious you tried to take the note, it felt like you were trying to decipher ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. 

Some of them were reasonable, cleaning up after yourself in the kitchen, keeping the bathroom tidy, and doing your own laundry- all of it was understandable and something you already had been doing. 

No smoking was something you could agree to, you didn’t really do it anyways so it didn’t bother you much. The same went for no music after 11PM. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the “no having friends over” point on his long list. It was insane, especially since he had a friend over just two nights ago. You had no idea why you were the only one not allowed to bring friends over, wondering if maybe you had to ‘earn it’, or if it was because you were a girl. 

There was absolutely no way you were going to comply with any of these. 

_______ 

On a Tuesday morning you woke up later than usual. The only reason for that was a previous cancellation of your anatomy class. 

No matter how spoiled and entitled you felt, you’d never allow yourself to miss class or fail an assignment or exam. Being a model student was something your father engraved in you from a young age, sending you to expensive boarding schools and making sure you get into a good university. 

You wondered if Jake had left for class already, or for work. Not like you knew what he was doing in life anyway. 

You opened your phone to an excited text message chain from Minjeong who expressed her excitement after a steamy and long night with Heeseung. A small smile surfaced on your face as you texted back her with a simple reply. 

You were afraid to leave your room. It was stupid, this was your place and you had every right in the world to go and make yourself fucking breakfast. But the impression Jake made on you was holding you back. You wondered how he managed to avoid you every single time, how you never were able to catch him leaving the bathroom or making a dish in the kitchen. That definitely took a lot of skill and starving on his side. 

It was pathetic, the more you thought about it. You were his roomate for fucks sake, not a serial killer who was just waiting to slash his head off. You two didn't have to be friends, you never expected that of him or anyone else you were going to move in with. But a short greeting would be nice. 

After a short call with Minjeong who pulled you back to reality, with a stern voice convincing you that Jake probably wasn't in the apartment anyway. 

“If you're going to behave like this, you should start looking for a new apartment” Minjeong said, and you thought about it for a second. 

Maybe she was right, but the thought of him scared you so much to the point that you would rather starve yourself than leave the room. 

The first week you purposely did things to catch him in action, get him to finally talk to you, and that slowly faded into you not even wanting to pass by him in the hallway. 

“Fuck Y/n, seriously he’s probably some incel loser who’s afraid to look a woman in the eye” you laughed at her comment, silently agreeing “I can come over and make food with you if that’s going to make you feel safer” she said, and you instantly were reminded of his set of rules and regulations. 

“Can’t. He doesn't allow friends over” you answered and she scoffed loudly. 

“So you did speak to him?” she said, still in disbelief. 

“No, not at all. This stupid prick left a note on my desk when I was out, 30 fucking rules and most of them seemingly only apply to me. He had a friend over just 4 nights ago!” you answered angrily, and she sighed. 

“You should move out of there, seriously. If not that, then purposely piss him off until he moves out” she inquired, and it birthed a whole bundle of ideas in your head. 

Maybe that was your solution. Purposely pissing him off and going against his crazy rules, forcing him to move out before you were forced to do it. 

“That’s a good idea, I like it” you answered, and she cooed excitedly. 

“Invite Jay and fuck so loud he’ll be slamming doors” she said, and you were quick to hush her, embarrassed by her ideas. 

“I gotta go make a mess in the kitchen then” you remembered one of the early points on the list, bidding her a quick farwell and ending the call. 

She had already convinced you that Jake wasn't in the apartment, so you didn't even bother getting dressed, just slightly adjusting your underwear and strapless top. 

It really felt like you were living alone most of the time so none of the habits you picked up on while living alone had the chance to vanish. 

You slowly open the door with a quiet creek to the floor boards and leave the room, your face in your phone as you checked all the notifications that bundled up overnight. 

You weren't expecting your first meeting with Jake to look like this, but there he was in all his glory. 

He must've thought the same thing- you shouldn't be here at this hour- a single pair of boxers keeping him away from standing fully nude in front of you. 

You didn't even know the man's last name but here you were standing practically naked in front of each other. Maybe you’d be more frightened if he wasn't so fucking hot. 

His skin was slightly tanned, shoulders broad with toned forearms. He had a tiny, slutty waist- if you knew he wanted it too you’d probably fuck him right there in that kitchen. His face was even better, big doe eyes and a shaped jawline. His black hair slightly covered his face, but you could still make out all of his features. 

All the fears you had completely vanished, a new disgusting arrangement of thoughts taking over your mind as you tried to speak to the man in front of you. 

“I’m s-sorry” you quickly said, covering your eyes. 

It had only been a couple seconds since your eyes met him in this awkward situation, but it felt like you’ve been staring at him much longer. 

He didn't even bother to reply, closing the fridge with a protein drink in hand, he passed by you like you weren't even there. You watched him enter his room and close the door with a thud. 

Was this seriously all of it? You had hoped he was just a little shy, waiting for an opportunity to greet you properly whenever you had the chance to pass by each other, but he obviously wasn't interested in getting to know you. 

But how could you possibly not want to get to know him when he was so breathtakingly hot. How could you possibly stay sane knowing you're living with a David reincarnate. 

You no longer planned on playing the ‘how long until he finally speaks to me’ game, preferring to see how long it’ll take for him to fuck you. 

______________

After that day you hadn't seen Jake at all. 

You heard him occasionally laugh with his friend who seemingly had the right to come over every day, or rage at a game but that was it. He once again opted to ignore you. 

You wondered if he was thinking about you too. You couldn't possibly get him out of your head, spending a little more time in the common rooms, hoping he would finally walk out of his room. 

Was he playing hard to get or was he just a fucking sick antisocial weirdo with no interest in real life women at all. 

You had spoken to Minjeong, the girl convincing you to do something that’ll rile him up. She had finally persuaded you to invite someone over, specifically Jay, in hopes that it will piss off Jake enough to get him to speak. 

“I know him from university, he’s an engineering major” Jay said, taking a hit from the freshly rolled blunt. 

The smell of weed spread across the area, and you secretly hoped Jake could feel it seeping in through the cracks of his door. 

“What’s he like?” you asked, inhaling the smoke as he held out the blunt for you in his fingers. 

He smiled “Fucking weird. Like he doesn't talk or anything, he just hangs out around the same people all the time” 

Jay pulled you closer, blowing the smoke into your mouth, and you obeyed, inhaling the rest. He gave you a sly smile, and finally put out what was left of the blunt. 

You didn't know what was between you and Jay, but until you get Jake to notice your true intentions towards him or even speak to you, he was a good option 

“That checks out” you chuckled, shaking your head “Look at this” you opened your drawer, pulling out the paper your roommate had left you. 

You handed it to him, as he read through all the rules. He laughed and with wide eyes kept looking through it. 

“Fuck, I need Sunghoon to see this” he laughed, taking a picture of it “Already broke two rules” he smirked and handed the list back to you. 

“Not stopping there, trust me” you smiled and put it back in your desk drawer. 

He smiled evilly, and pulled you back over to sit on his lap. You complied with a sly smile, and pressed your face against his chest, Jay softly caressing your back. 

“You should move far away from this freak, seriously” he says, and you can’t help but hum in agreement. 

If you chose to disagree, Jay would start asking too many unnecessary questions you truly had no answer to. You couldn't even tell yourself why after seeing him only once, you wanted the man to dick you down so bad. 

“And live on the street? No thank you” you replied, your voice muffled by the material of Jay’s sweater. 

He chuckled “You can move in with me” 

“The streets sound much better than living with 4 sweaty frat boys in one room” you replied, and he huffed. 

“We’re not frat boys, c’mon” you scoffed at his words. 

“Stoners, frat boys, fuckboys, whatever, same thing” you count and he just rolls his eyes playfully. 

Jay’s delicate touch and sweet voice almost stopped you from hearing Jake’s angry footsteps in the hallway. 

The chance had finally come, and you were forced to ignore it. 

The sound of his footsteps kept ringing in your ears as Jay told you something about having to leave soon to do a drop. You barely listened to him, wondering what Jake was thinking about, probably already noticing you were not alone. 

The vibrating sound of Jay’s phone knocked you out of your trance, forcing you to rise from his embrace, passing him the device. 

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. I’m around the area” he replied, and lazily standing up with a stumble to his feet, he stretched and turned to you “Sorry, pretty thing. Gotta go” he gave you a half smile, and you nodded your head, trying to refocus on what’s going on behind your closed door. 

You walked him downstairs to the door, and with a chaste kiss to your forehead, he sprinted towards the subway station. You smiled, your eyes chasing his figure until he finally disappeared around the corner. 

Opening the door to your apartment once again you hoped that Jake would still be rummaging around the hallways. 

And you were right, he fell right into your trap. He was waiting there for you. 

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, and his voice was deep. It was a little raspy, probably from the way he’s screaming his lungs out playing games all night. 

His face was dark, and figure was lean. He looked a little creepy, his back blocking all the light, his body casting a shadow onto your figure. 

You wanted to smile, but decided to keep it cool “No hello, or goodmorning?” you asked, tilting your head with a sly smile. 

He looked like he was about to explode, and you liked it more than you thought you would. 

“Oh you wanna be like that? I fucking told you, loud and clear, that there were no guests allowed around here. Didn’t get through your head the first time, did it?” he groaned. 

“I’ve been here for 2 fucking weeks, and you haven’t even bothered to introduce yourself to me. You can seriously fuck off, and shove those rules up your ass while your at it” you replied, turning your back to him, heading towards your room. 

He grabbed your wrist, pushing you to the wall “You listen to me, yeah? So don’t fucking try to invite anyone over again” he said, harshly letting go off you, and without letting you finish, walked back to his room with a slam to his door. 

You were left there stunned in the hallway. Although you knew Jake wasn’t normal, you never expected him to be this fucked up. 

And you also didn’t expect it to turn you on so much. 

_______________ 

Once again, you haven’t seen Jake around. 

He must have been extra cautious to ignore you especially after your previous incident. 

You hadn’t even heard him play his usual loud and obnoxious music anymore or him raging at his games. No one has come over since then either. You couldn’t understand why Jay coming over bothered him so much to the point where he changed up his whole routine, choosing to take on a rather silent stance. 

But he wasn’t here today. 

For the first time in 3 weeks, you were there for his absence in the apartment, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do. 

You wanted to finally see what his own space looked like. 

Maybe in the slightest way it would help you figure out the type of person he is, maybe you’d find something that’d help you understand why he is the way he is. 

You double checked, making sure that psycho wasn’t hiding somewhere, hoping he’d catch you in the act. But when you checked every possible spot, you quietly and slowly opened the door to his room, steadily taking in the space that was unveiled in front of you. 

Cream walls, gray curtains, a cheap wooden bed frame, no posters, pictures or plants, you truly expected something more, but there was no personality to the boys room. 

In some way that answered a handful of your questions about him; he just had nothing to himself. He was just a simple boy with a fucked up character and greasy keyboard. 

His desk was messy, a mixture of textbooks, used up tissues and a half-empty lotion, crumpled up pieces of paper and cables. Yet through the mess you managed to notice a note, your name written in capitals on the top of it. 

And well, a scrunched up, stained pair of your light pink, lacy panties. They were abandoned in the middle of all the tissues he disgustingly didn’t get rid of yet. 

Just when you thought he couldn’t get weirder, he somehow did. 

“There is no fucking way” you whispered to yourself, your mouth parted and eyes wide. 

You looked back and forth between the paper and your underwear, eventually grabbing at the note, narrowing your eyes as you began to read the contents. 

You skimmed through the bullet points; your full schedule written down on the paper with almost exact numbers as to when you leave and when you come back. These were the things you didn’t even know yourself. 

“You think about me a lot don’t you, Jakey” you murmured with an evil grin, not forgetting to snap a picture of it and send it to Minjeong. 

You decide to leave the now useless fabric where you found it, also deciding to leave it out of the conversation with your best friend. She had already freaked out over the schedule and if she found out your crazy roommate is also jerking off using your dirty laundry, she wouldn't waste a second moving all your things into her apartment personally. 

She replied swiftly, an arrangement of emojis decorating your home screen and a “WHAT THE FUCK, CALL ME ASAP?”. You smiled and put all his things back in place, leaving the horrid space Jake created for himself. 

“Hello? Y/n?” Minjeongs voice ringed in your ears as you called the girl. 

You decided to spend some time in the living room, waiting for Jake’s return. Your eyes were constantly plastered on the door in the end of the hallway, ears listening in for a turn of the key. 

“Yeah, I’m here” you laughed lightly, and that’s when Minjeong got her confirmation to start her full on blowout. 

“Move out of there as soon as possible, girl. That man is dangerous, I swear to god” she half screamed, and you just chuckled “You’re laughing? This doesn’t scare you, like at all?” she asked, and you thought about a reasonable reply, cause ‘He’s hot’ was definitely not going to make the cut for your best friend. 

“I can’t afford anything else Minjeong, you know that. He doesn’t bother me that much, it’s okay” you said in an attempt to calm the girl down. 

“I told you, you can come stay with me” she said calmly, and you let a stray breath out. 

“Min you know I love you, but I already told you I do not want to hear you banging Heeseung every other night” you smiled even though she couldn’t see you. 

“Personally, I’d rather listen to pornhub recreations than live under the same roof with a potential stalker” she said, and you laughed. At least she knew about her problem. 

“He’s not a stalker Min, he’s just weird. That’s all” you replied and she sighed. 

“You can’t fix him, Y/n” she said, and you scoffed playfully. 

“You can wait and see” you told her and she just hummed. 

“Before that happens, you'll be six feet under” she said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her overprotectiveness

The topic slowly faded when the seriousness turned into playful banter, the two of you discussing random topics and gossiping about every possible person that ever graced your campus. 

You didn’t leave the living room, not once, because according to Jake's precious and impressive schedule, you should be out now. Normally that would be true if not for the cancellation of your pilates class. Self-cancellation. 

As the keys turning and metal hitting the wooden door sound through the apartment, you hang up without further explanation, quietly running off to your room. 

If you stayed in the living room, upon noticing you, he'd practically bolt to his room, locking the door, once again, avoiding you. You were smarter than that. 

As soon as you heard him settle down, the sound of your old fridge being opened, and his quiet footsteps pacing around the kitchen, you pulled out your phone, the picture of his note staring back at you. You smile mischievously, phone in hand as you open the door, heading straight towards the kitchen, 

He looks slightly taken-aback and you know damn well why. He wasn't expecting you. You shouldn't be here for another 30 minutes- the perfect amount of time for him to shower and make dinner. He had precisely calculated all of this just so he could avoid useless encounters with you. 

“What is this?” your voice is taunting as he realizes what's displayed on your screen. 

All the blood drained from his face as he realized you entered his room and looked through all his things, possibly even read all the perverted thoughts he had about you that were scattered across his desk in the form of crumpled pieces of paper. He remembers exactly what he took from your dirty laundry basket and how much he enjoyed having the fabric wrapped around his thick shaft. 

“You went through my things ?” he asks, voice laced with anger as the reality of the situation comes down on him.   

You bark out a laugh, amused by his attempts to shift the blame on you “Oh and my panties, you can keep those. Hope they milk your short dick good” you smirk, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, the look of confidence on your face. 

Jake's expression darkens, a cruel grin twisting his lips as he moves closer to you, his face inches away from yours “You think you're so fucking clever, don't you? Going through my things, catching me in a little indiscretion and using it against me. Impressive” his voice is low as he laughs in your face. 

One of his hands moves to grip your chin, the look on his face menacing as he forces you to maintain eye contact “You're nothing but an entitled brat. I'm not some fucking pushover and you should know that by now. Weren't those rules enough? You just had to go and invade my privacy to feed your little ego. You knew what you’d find, didn't you?” he stares down at you intensely, his grip on your chin tightening, his thumb slowly brushing over your lower lip, his smile growing as he notices your silence. 

“Here's what will happen, okay? You’ll apologize for breaking my rules, send all your guests packing as soon as they show up on this doorstep, and we’ll never have this conversation again. You'll be a good little girl and listen to me from now on” he murmurs, his voice low as he trails his fingers along your jawline. 

“You look so hot when you get mad like this, Jakey” he looks caught off guard for a moment, before the low and seductive laugh parts his lips. 

“You think so?” he leans in closer, his breath hot on your skin, his voice down to a whisper as he continues “Then maybe we should put that dumb fucking mouth of yours to use and I'll show you just how hot I can get” 

A smirk spreads across Jake's face as his hands move down to grope your behind, giving it a firm squeeze, chuckling at your reaction. 

He moves to settle down at the edge of the couch, stripping off his shirt, presenting you with the view you’ve missed way more than you thought you did. His chiseled torso glistens under the lights, his belt buckle clinking as he undoes his pants, pushing them down. The fabric falls down to the floor almost instantly. 

He watches you intently as you smile up at him, his fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers, his movements slow and tantalizing. 

You’re enjoying this and he knows it too, watching from the way you slide down to your knees in front of him. 

“I knew you'd like this. Is this what you wanted?” he teases, his gaze never leaving yours as he watches your desperate pleas. 

When you nod, he laughs softly, finally pushing down his boxers, freeing his rigid erection “Show me how much you wanted it” 

He grips the base of his shaft, giving it a few slow strokes as he watches you, waiting for you to take him into your mouth. 

You grin at his heat and hardness, your fingers wrapping around his length. He pulses in your grasp, begging to fill your throat. You lean in, your gaze locked on his, running your tongue from base to tip, savoring the bitter taste of his precum. 

You slowly take him into your mouth, your lips stretching as you push his length further down your throat. You bob your head, the determination to bring him pleasure coursing through your veins. 

As your wet mouth accommodates his thick cock, a strangled groan escapes his lips “Yeah, fuck, don’t stop” 

His fingers thread through your hair, pushing you further down his shaft. He guides you as the sensation of your tongue around his sensitive tip brings him over the edge, his knees weak as he shakes with pleasure. 

“Keep going, suck me off good” he moans, his mouth parted as he continues to guide your head down his throbbing cock. 

As you pick up speed, your movements harder and faster, he can feel his body begging for release, the orgasm building in his stomach. 

He can barely keep his eyes open as he speaks, his voice strained “Fuck, I’m close" his heartbeat quickens "Gonna cum so hard down your throat you’ll never want to go against me again” 

His hips buck, as he tries to savor the last moments before his awaited release. With a hoarse cry, he loses himself in the feeling, spilling himself deep into your throat. 

His grip on your hair loosens, his eyes rolling back with pleasure “Swallow” he commands, his body shaking as he rides out his climax. 

With a contented hum, you comply, lapping up the last drops of his seed, the salty flavour coating your mouth. The rest of his release, mixed with your spit, coats your glistening lips, as you remove yourself off him. 

Jake watches you lick your lips before pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. His tongue moves along your mouth, his hands sliding up your shirt, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of your stomach. 

“Strip” he says, pulling away, watching you with an evil grin. 

As he watches you slowly and teasingly remove your thin shirt and shorts, his hand begins to slowly stroke his cock back to hardness, smearing the ramints of his own release and your saliva along his thick shaft. 

He sits down on plush comforters of the couch, tapping his lap for you. His body presses against you as you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“So pretty” he whispers, locking his eyes on you as he watches you subtly grind your hips on top of him. 

He pulls your head back, exposing you bare throat, his lips leaving a trail of bites and bruises on his way down to your collarbone. 

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel his wet lips on you “I need more” 

He smiles at your words “I’ll fuck you so good the only rule you’ll remember is how nice it is when you submit to me” 

Jake swiftly moves you down onto the cushions, his body looming over you as his hungry eyes wander over your body. His lips meet yours again, his hardness grinding against your wet core. 

He uses your wet slick as a lubricant, his cock sliding against your folds as he hisses at the sensation. 

“I fucked myself to the thought of you every night” his voice is rough with barley restrained lust as he notches himself at your entrance “Wanted to bury myself in this little cunt for so long” 

With a powerful thrust of his hips, Jake sheathes himself fully inside you, groaning as your tight heat elopes him. You breath out in ecstasy as he fills you completely, your inner walls clenching tightly around his thick length. 

Your back arches off the couch, as you hold onto his forearm, your nails digging into his skin “Shit, Jake. So fucking good” 

You start rolling your hips, meeting his every stroke, the sound of skin slapping against skin and loud gasps fill the once quiet apartment. 

Encouraged by your wanton pleas, his thrusts become erratic, hitting deep and hard. He pounds into you with a wild force, pressing you down in place, taking the pleasure from your willing body. 

“That’s right, take it all” he holds onto your hips, slamming you onto his length. 

You can’t even bother to reply to his comments, writhing beneath him as he uses your body for his own gratification. Each of his brutal movements sends you further over the edge, his pace almost demonic as your nails dig into his back, leaving red scratches along the surface. 

Jake feeling your trembling thighs and the way you clench around him, smiles evilly, slamming into you with precision, grinding his pelvis against your clit. 

“Cum on my cock” he speaks, his voice dark “Milk me for all I’m worth” 

With a piercing whine, you come undone under his dripping body, the orgasm crashing down on you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as with heavy pants, you ride out your intense climax. 

The feeling of your release and the sound of your name falling breathlessly from your lips, proves too much for him to handle “Gonna cum so fucking deep inside you” 

With a low, guttural moan Jake presses himself deep inside you one last time, and finds his own release, pumping his hot, thick cum directly into you. 

He finally collapses on top of you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his own, intense orgasm. Jake lies down next to you, your damp body sticking to his, as he threads his fingers through your hair. 

“Don’t go through my shit again, Y/n” he whispers, biting down on your earlobe. 

[keferon]

So I had ideas for Mecha Pilot AU while reading some of the things that other people have sent and those ideas turned into this!

Enjoy some Hot Rod shenanigans!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It starts when Hot Rod catches First Aid trying to smuggle a metal sheet out of the base. 

Well, no, it really started when the higher ups said that Jazz, allegedly, stole a half put together experimental mech unit. Which, Hot Rod would like to point out, makes absolutely no sense. Jazz is smart. If he was going to steal a mech, he’d wait until it was completely built and fully functional. No, there was something else going on and it had something to do with those strange upgrades that a few of the mechs got. Jazz had taken one look at them and booked it. 

Then immediately stole a half made mech that was completely covered in the stuff. 

All of this happening after he had been gone for months before mysteriously returning. 

Point is there’s something going on and it started with Jazz.

Presently, it has something to do with First Aid and the hunk of metal he’s carting around. 

The hunk of metal that looks like that strange upgraded plating. 

“Sooo…” Hot Rod says as he looks the other pilot over, “We stealing now?”

“No, I- this is- Vortex is up next for the-.”

“Nah man, you’re fine.” Hot Rod walks over to the back of the cart and places a hand on the metal. “I’m game for whatever we’re doing, I just want to know if we need to be sneaky.”

“It- what? We?”

“Yeah.” Hot Rod smiles and tilts his head to the side, like this was a given. “So, we stealing?”

First Aid gives him a look that’s a cross between befuddlement and scrutiny. It’s one he gets often, but the newer pilot seems well practiced with it. A solid eight out of ten honestly.

“This isn’t for profit.” First Aid says slowly. “And this isn’t for me.”

Hot Rod’s smile takes a slightly more feral edge. “Even better.”

_._._

Apparently Jazz has an alien robot boyfriend and the higher ups were using parts of his body for upgrades. 

Very morbid, but sadly not surprising.

They need to get as much of the original frame as possible back to Ratchet as that would make repairs easier. 

They’ve apparently been getting a lot of the pieces that had already been on other mechs through “collateral damage”.

First Aid had shrugged, “It’s not my fault if an upgraded mech gets between Vortex and a monster.”

The real tricky bits to get were the ones still on base and being tested. Which, for some reason, included an entire oversized thumb.

An oversized thumb he and First Aid are trying to sneak out from under Shockwave’s nose. 

“The rest of the hand was in random parts of the base.” Hot Rod mutters. “Why did the thumb need to be in such a secure area?”

“Complain louder. I don’t think the bugs heard you.” First Aid sasses in a hissed whisper. 

Hot Rod shivers at the reminder of Shockwave’s “helpers”. Knee high robots with four legs and a hexagonal face. They would’ve been cute had their singular yellow eye not reminded him of the eerie visage that is now the scientist's face. Shockwave used them to help in his work but to also keep an eye on his lab and the surrounding hallways. 

“Don’t even go there, Aid. You’ll end up jinxing-.”

His warning is interrupted by a faint skittering from around the next corner. 

“Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap.” Hot Rod looks around frantically before shoving himself, First Aid, and the thumb into the nearest door.

It turns out to be a closet. What kind of closet? Hot Rod doesn’t know and he refuses to find out. While it could be a normal supply closet, he’s not taking the chance that it could also be storage for strange and dubiously ethical experiments. 

So Hot Rod crams himself into the small space while keeping his eyes entirely focused on the door as he closes it. He and First Aid hold their breaths as the skittering of the bug gets louder, comes right in front of their hiding spot, then continues on without pause. 

They both let out sighs of relief and Hot Rod sets his forehead on the door. 

First Aid makes an inquiring hum. “There’s a vent in here. Think the thumb would fit?”

“Oh no.” Hot Rod says, face still against the door. “Do you have any idea how loud that would be? We aren’t dragging a large metal thumb through the metal vents and destroying our hearing with the echoing screeches.”

“Well, what do you propose we do then? Take it out the front door?”

_._._

“That never should have worked.” 

“You should never underestimate the power of looking like you know what you’re doing while carrying a box.”

“That never should have worked.”

Said large and long box holding the alien robot thumb sat innocently in the back seat of Hot Rod’s truck. 

_._._

“We need a movie for Rachet and Drift.”

Ratchet, who is helping Jazz repair Prowl, gives Hot Rod that “befuddled and scrutinizing” look that everyone seems to give him (A definite ten out of ten for Ratchet; truly a professional in giving out looks to others). “What?”

“Well, yeah! We’ve got Ratatouille for Jazz and Prowl. Aid and Vortex got a reverse Ratatouille-.”

“How’d you hear about that?” First Aid demands.

“Tailgate.” Hot Rod answers easily, then turns back to Ratchet to continue his previous thought. “So now we need to think of a movie for you and Drift!”

Ratchet’s eyes narrow in the unspoken promise of bad things to come. “No.”

Hot Rod, being the one who got a mech that catches on fire and made it work, takes Ratchet’s look as a challenge. He snaps his finger and points at the older man “I got it! ‘The Iron Giant’.”

Ratchet scoffs, rolls his eyes, and gets back to working in the alien robot’s arm. 

“What?” Jazz protests, while keeping his main focus on the internals of Prowl’s arm, “Iron Giant? Really? That’s a loose connection at best and you know it.”

“Oh? And do you have something better?” Hot Rod playfully challenges. 

“Dude, ‘Lilo and Stitch’ is right there.”

“How is that any better than mine?”

“Because War Crimes McGee here,” Jazz gestures to an amused looking Drift before getting back to his work, “is a better fit for Stitch than the Iron Giant any day of the week.”

Jazz may have a point, but while Hot Rod’s mom may have raised a fool, she definitely didn’t raise a quitter. 

“So Ratchet here tells Drift all about ohana and kicks off his character arc?”

“Not everything's one to one, Roddy. I’m not using Prowl to become the best chef is Paris. You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

“I agree with Jazz.” First Aid cuts in. 

Hot Rod gives him a mock glare. “You’re just saying that so you won’t have to agree with me.”

First Aid shrugs. “True, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”

“Children. The lot of you.” Ratchet grumbles. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

And yeah! Ideas was mostly ‘Hey, they could probably have Vortex get pieces of Prowl back since fights like that are bound to be very chaotic and Vortex would have no hang ups about attacking allies every now and then’

It went further as the idea of Hot Rod and First Aid trying to do spy things and be sneaky but somehow succeeding due to Shenanigans was too funny to pass up XD

Loving this AU so far and all the cool stuff people are making for it!

OMG THE CHILDREN ARE STEALING FROM THE BIG CORPORATION IM SO PROUD OF THEM~~

Also the way all these different plot lines are crossing each other and occasionally coming together is just so cool I love it

Like, yeah we have fucked up horror, we have space drama, we have Lilo and Stitch aaaaand we have option to combine them together. Also now there is Shockwave so all the guys have the "free angst" option I gues ahahah

[minxipinxi]

#LADsMultiBoycott: Enough Is Enough – It’s Time to Stand Together

“We don’t hate the game—we love it enough to want better.”

Over the past few weeks, the community has been buzzing over translated leaks and rumors surfacing on Xiaohongshu (小红书) and Twitter that point to a disturbing trend in Love and Deepspace (LADs). The upcoming multi-banner—whether it turns out to be the anticipated Spring or Wedding multi—will once again feature long hairstyles separated from their outfits. Yes, again. After all the outcry. After all the feedback. We're here once more.

Let me be blunt: we can’t keep going like this. We can’t keep hoping CN girlies will save us every time. We can’t keep spending in good faith when Infold continues to exploit our loyalty and silence our voices. We can’t keep pretending that fan art and cute trailers make up for broken promises and paywalled aesthetics.

It’s time for us to join together, across servers, communities, and fandoms. It's not about Sylus mains vs Caleb mains vs the OG3. We're all getting burned by the same fire.

💥 What We Know From the Leaks

According to reliable sources:

The upcoming banner after Sylus’s Birthday Event might be another multi-banner format, either Spring or Wedding.

Long hairstyles will be separated from the outfits and placed in a separate crate—again.

This structure mirrors gacha mechanics where full outfits demand 140+ pulls, stretching across 5-star parts like socks, pants, accessories, and hair.

These decisions appear to be influenced by monetization models similar to Infinity Nikki, prioritizing profit over playability or fairness.

📢 So What Are We Doing About It?

We are organizing under #LADsMultiBoycott to push back against these predatory changes. This isn’t just a tantrum. It’s a coordinated protest.

🔥 Our Demands:

Six-month roadmaps to ensure transparency and accountability.

Higher resource drops from the highest-tier Bounty/Core Hunt.

Stop separating hairstyles from outfits in banners.

New sources of diamond income (no more stagnant gem economy).

No spending for the first 3 days of the banner. Use only your saved-up diamonds.

File official complaints to show Infold that this matters. Email:

loveanddeepspace-en@infoldgames.com

support-EN@infoldgames.com

🧠 Strategy: What You Can Do

Here’s what our global LADs family is doing:

1. No Spending for Entire Banner Period

Even if you have funds set aside, hold them. Don’t top up. Don’t feed the system that’s disrespecting your playtime and wallet.

2. Delay Your Pulls

Do not pull in the first 3 days. Choose your LI in the pool, then log out. Let the data show decreased first-week participation.

3. Minimal Screen Time

Yes, log in for dailies, but keep your session short, especially for iOS users. Play Store and App Store algorithms track usage data. Reduced screen time:

Hurts engagement metrics.

Lowers game ranking.

Cuts ad revenue.

4. No Banner Fanart for First Few Days

As painful as it is to hide our beautiful boys, let’s not unintentionally trigger FOMO. Fanart drives hype—hold off until after the peak revenue period.

5. Only Use Android if Possible

App Store rankings are disproportionately influenced by iOS user engagement. Reducing iOS traffic matters more than you think.

🌎 A Global Movement: We’re Not Alone

Our fellow players in China have already shaken Infold’s confidence.

CN revenue dropped by 42.2% from Nov 2024 to March 2025 (from $100M to $57.8M).

Global rankings dropped, while games like Genshin and Wuthering Waves soared.

Their success in the "stop-spending-money" campaign proved one thing: boycotts work.

If they can do it, so can we.

✊ This Is About More Than Just One Banner

Infold believes that as long as they release a sexy card, we’ll cave. They believe we don’t talk to each other. That we’re divided by LI bias and language barriers. But what they don’t see is how deeply connected we’ve become as a fandom.

We aren’t asking for perfection. We’re asking for respect.

If we let this multi go unchallenged, it sets a dangerous precedent:

Separated hairstyles in multi-banners like this become normalized.

Resources remain stagnant.

Paywalls keep climbing.

F2P and low-spenders are permanently excluded.

💡 Why Minimal Playtime Matters

Some of you might be thinking, “But this won’t work?” And here’s why it will:

“Why Cutting Screen Time Works” – The Breakdown

Engagement metrics tank. App Store/Play Store ranks games by DAU, session length, etc.

Revenue drops. Less screen time = fewer ad views = less money.

Rankings slide. Visibility goes down, leading to even fewer players.

It sends a message. A sharp drop in playtime can’t be ignored by business analysts.

💬 “But What If Infold Cancels the Game?”

They won’t. That’s just fear-mongering.

If a company is willing to kill its own cash cow just because fans want better—then it was never worth our support to begin with. But more importantly: they won’t kill it. They’ve seen that the game can pull millions. They’ll just need to earn it now.

🧱 We’re Building Something Bigger

This isn’t just about LADs. It’s about every gacha game that’s begun preying on its fans. If we roll over here, what message are we sending to WuWa, HSR, ZZZ, GI, and the rest?

We all have that one game we ride or die for. But loving a game doesn’t mean blind loyalty. Criticism is love in action.

🧩 TL;DR: How You Can Help

❌ Don’t spend money on the next multi-banner

🕒 Log in for dailies only, pick your LI, then log off

🎨 Hold off on banner fanart for a few days

📉 Reduce iOS activity as much as possible

💌 Email: loveanddeepspace-en@infoldgames.com support-EN@infoldgames.com

🗣️ Spread awareness under #LADsMultiBoycott

Even if you’re the only one on your server, know that you’re not alone. We’re tired, we’re frustrated—but we’re not powerless.

Let’s stop funding our own oppression.

No fair treatment = no money. Let them earn it.

Resources:

Revenue Trends: Ennead Data

Reddit Info Post: Sylus Girlies PSA

XHS Links: Source 1, Source 2

[bluebellles]

“I’ve been looking at you so long, now I only see me”

little habits you and the LADS boys pick up from each other as a couple

genre: sfw, fluff

cw: rafmc emotionally abusing thomas, grandpa behavior from sylus, whatever tf caleb has going on (par for the course), zayne’s a mealprepper i think that’s canon, i wrote sylus’s first and it actually inspired the series but it ended up being shorter than the others, idk i was satisfied with it so i dont wanna add anything though, threw in a tiny bit of angst in caleb’s (tiny) what can i say i learned from infold

Gossip

You had turned your boyfriend into an absolute menace.

It wasn’t on purpose, really. It had started innocently enough when the two of you had gone out for your usual Thursday night hotpot (much different from your Saturday night hotpot and Tuesday night hotpot if anyone cared to ask). 

The couple two tables down from you began arguing over the man’s Instagram likes and you had, like anyone in your situation would, instantly stopped speaking to overhear their conversation.

Xavier noticed your change in demeanor immediately, swallowing his bite of meat and leaning closer to you in concern.

“Why are you so quiet?” he frowned, glancing down at your bowl, “Are the mushrooms overcooked? I followed the instructions on the sheet…”

He had reluctantly stopped experimenting with the cooking times at your vehement, repeated request.

The silver haired man blinked in surprise when you simply pressed a finger to his lips but made no move to stop you. You tilted your head to the couple who was now scrolling through the man’s entire feed while he shook a ladle at her animatedly.

His eyes tracked your movement and landed on the couple in confusion. Why were you so concerned? Were they bothering you? Did you need him to get them to leave so you could go back to eating hotpot in peace?

As if sensing his intentions, you shook your head and pointed to your ear. He took the cue to listen in, growing more and more interested as the argument escalated. Why did he care? He wasn’t sure, but suddenly listening in on the man’s insistence that he was just supporting young women was even more interesting than his sliced pork.

The pair of you stayed quiet until the couple stormed out of the restaurant after slamming down a stack of bills on the table as if they were in a K-Drama. 

“...She should dump him,” he speaks simply, picking his spoon back up without further ado.

“I’m saying,” you agreed, sipping your drink, “She is way too pretty for him anyways.”

You hadn’t thought much of the moment at the time, but apparently you had sparked a new interest for your normally docile boyfriend. Suddenly he was a man on a mission and he had become very dutiful in his reports to you during your evening debriefs (cuddling on the couch). 

The woman who lived in the apartment below you was illegally subletting to her grandson, as witnessed during a trip to the P.O. boxes in the lobby.

That’s not really news. I hear him screaming at his PC at three a.m. every day.

The teenage boy who had sat next to him on the train was running an illegal essay-forgery ring and seemed to be making a decent profit, as overheard when he was pretending to be asleep.

In this economy? Good for him.

Tara and Jenna were holding hands under the table during the morning meeting.

This one actually made you gasp in excitement, and your boyfriend was smug with pride as you slapped your hands against his chest repeatedly and demanded more details.

For better or for worse, you had created a bit of a gossip monster out of your boyfriend. Thursday night hotpot (slightly less sacred than Saturday night hotpot and more populated than Tuesday night hotpot) was now dedicated to eavesdropping on the surrounding tables. You could only be grateful he was no longer focused on experimenting with the broth.

Vocal Stims

Your boyfriend lets out a deep sigh, lackadaisically kicking his feet up onto the coffee table in Thomas’s office as he mindlessly twirls a pen between his fingers. You sit beside him, steadfastly ignoring his antics as you focus on completing a report from your last mission. As usual, Rafayel had dragged you along to a meeting with his art manager to ‘protect him from potential threats’, the most prevalent of which was boredom. 

You usually tried your best to be polite and well behaved to supplement your other half’s determination to make a general nuisance of himself in the unfounded hopes of getting Thomas to agree to meet less frequently. 

“Is this guy seriously so inept that he needs someone to hold his hand through the process of buying an art piece?” Rafayel scoffed at his manager’s attempts to get him to meet with a potential client personally, “Either he likes the piece or he doesn’t. What’s so difficult to comprehend? Is he stupid? I don’t want stupid people buying my artwork Thomas.” 

“He’s the sole founder of a multibillion dollar tech company,” Thomas lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Do they specialize in making technology for idiots?” He looks over at you expectantly. You solemnly shake your head. He’s in rare form today, crabby from his interrupted bathtub time (two hours instead of four). That wasn’t even worth a fake chuckle. He pouts, looking away from you again.

“Some clients just like to know what kind of artist they're supporting before giving them their money,” Thomas explained as if this was a new concept, “I mean, some people love the whole flighty, elusive artist thing you have going on but to be honest, Rafayel, you can be a tough nut to swallow.”

The room immediately falls into complete silence. You pause your rhythmic typing. The pen falls from Rafayel’s hand. Thomas’s face fills with dread.

Completely stone-faced, you and your boyfriend stare at each other before slowly turning your heads to face the panicking art manager. From his perspective you are no different from two sharks circling their prey.

“Thomas…,” Rafayel starts, with absolutely no emotion in his voice.

“...what?” you finish his sentence in the same tone.

“I meant- I got confused between ‘tough nut to crack’ and ‘bitter pill to swallow’,” he mumbles with no small amount of horror, “It was an honest mistake! Anyone could make it after talking in circles like this for hours!”

Your shoulders are now shaking as you fight to keep the sinister delight off your face.

“Please don’t,” Thomas turns to you in his desperation, already knowing his most problematic artist is a lost cause.

“Should I be worried, Thomas?” you offer him no reprieve.

Beside you, your boyfriend tilts his head back and cackles like some kind of ancient sea witch as his poor manager puts his head in his hands and groans.

After that day, you and Rafayel terrorize everyone you cross paths with for weeks with the phrase. Mainly Thomas, but also the poor old lady who runs your favorite fish market, the seagulls down by Rafayel’s preferred outcropping of rocks, whoever has the misfortune of sitting next to the two of you on the train into town. Nobody is safe from your tyranny. 

Next month, it might be a random quote from a TikTok or a random tourist’s mispronunciation of the word ‘anemone’. Whatever the case may be, the world will always fall victim to your mutual vocal stims.

Trash TV Shows

“Two days off a week and you choose to spend one of them staring at a screen for hours on end,” your ever-logical boyfriend cannot resist making the comment as he sips from his mug superiorly. 

“If you hate me and wish I was dead just say that,” you brush him off as you point the remote at his giant flat-screen and try to pick something to watch.

“Oh, is that what I said?” he hums noncommittally, reaching over to steady your bowl of popcorn as it teeters dangerously on the couch next to you.

“It basically is, in summation,” you insist, nodding your head emphatically, “God forbid women have hobbies! Why do you even have this giant TV if you never use it anyways?”

“Knitting is a hobby. Watching reality television is a surefire way to ensure early cognitive decline. And I use it to review past surgeries and study recordings of new techniques in the field.”

You groan dramatically, kicking a slipper-covered foot halfheartedly in his direction. He catches it with his usual barely-there grin that crinkles the corners of his hazel eyes softly. 

“Fine then, I won’t watch reality TV,” you scroll to find Grey’s Anatomy and begin loading up your favorite episode, “This isn’t trash. This is art.”

“It’s medical malpractice and constant HIPAA violations, actually,” he counters, adjusting the cuff of your sweatpants from where they had rolled up on your right leg.

“Objectively that may be true but I don’t really want to hear about HIPAA violations from you.”

Zayne eventually relents with his teasing and leaves you to veg out after a grueling workweek. As much as he may pretend to protest, he would never genuinely diminish anything that helped you relax. Instead, he made himself busy meal-prepping his usual health-over-flavor lunches in the kitchen and contented himself to admire your blissed out form from the archway that separated him from the living room.

Against his will, however, his attention kept drifting to the dramatic antics taking place on the screen in front of you. 

“That is an exorbitant dosage for the patient’s age and weight,” he couldn't help himself from interjecting with a displeased frown, “and why would so many doctors respond to the same distress call. Are they overstaffed?”

It’s his fourth comment this episode alone. 

“Just come sit next to me if you’re already watching,” you giggle at his genuine offense over the inaccuracies.

“I’m not watching,” he insists, but abandons the rice cooker and sinks down next to you without taking his eyes off the screen.

You happily snuggle into his side, pleased to bask in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms as they wrap around you with a gentle kiss placed to your forehead. The silence lasts for approximately three minutes and sixteen seconds.

“...Why would he sleep with her when he knows she is going through a hard time and then walk around like a kicked puppy? He should be more worried about his inadequate suturing technique, if anything.”

“Right???”

Selfies

You should never have taken a selfie with Sylus. And not just because he mogged you.

He had looked at you with his version of startled confusion (a slightly higher than usual raise of his right eyebrow) when you first brought out your phone and leaned in close with a cheesy smile on your face. 

Even in the first few shots, where he looked stiff and awkward as he tried to deduce your intentions, he looked like a marble statue of an ancient god brought to life. Once he settled into himself and leaned a little closer into you with that barely-there smile and gentle eyes he only reserved for your moments together, it was completely over for you.

Which was fine. You could be humble enough to acknowledge that bad angles simply did not exist for Sylus. That and the pleased "send that to me" he had rumbled into your ear as you scrolled through the pictures for him made it worth it.

It wasn't until later you realized you had unleashed an absolute menace on the world. Not even in the usual hellfire and brimstone related way.

Pre night-out? Lean a little closer to the camera, sweetie. Post night-out? Smile first, then he'll pick you up and carry you home princess-style to protect your aching feet. 

In the middle of scarfing down some pizza after a particularly grueling protocore hunt that left your hair in disarray and your eyeliner smudged almost completely off? Just look up for one second, kitten.

His camera roll had to be nearly completely full of the most random, innocuous moments of the two of you together. You once sarcastically commented that he'd have to get a new phone just for pictures soon. He genuinely considered it. 

He could now often be found mid-illegal arms deal nonchalantly scrolling through his camera roll, letting out a small rich person chuckle at a photo of you yelling at him for whipping out his phone in the middle of a shoot-out while he made sure the camera got his good side. 

It was a hoard he considered more precious than the stacks of gold bars overflowing from his cellar or the offshore bank accounts he kept his real estate funds in. For all the qualms he had about this new century, he could at least say he was grateful for this new way of collecting treasures.

Literally everything, if he had his way.

It wasn’t an anomalous occurrence for you and Caleb to subconsciously mimic each other’s habits. An entire lifetime together and your boyfriend’s inclination to fuse himself to you any time he has the opportunity practically ensured some overlap.

His high school basketball teammates thought he must be the only person in the world who used the term “hedgehogging” instead of “jogging” during practice before learning the story of how you misused the word when you were kids.

Your university roommate had a similar reaction to you referring to your mini fridge as “steelless stain” instead of “stainless steel”, an embarrassing blunder you had picked up from Caleb after he got his (first) concussion.

Perhaps the most humiliating had been when Caleb had been flipping through a manual in the pilot academy mess hall next to Gideon as his friend scarfed down a sandwich. He had made a noise of disgust after biting down on a wilted piece of lettuce and, without flinching or looking up, Caleb had stuck his hand underneath the other man’s chin as if to catch the food if he spit it out. 

“...Force of habit,” he spoke gravely as he slowly pulled his hand away.

“Uh-huh.”

Over the years, much to his delight, it was often difficult for outside observers to discern where one of you ended and the other began. The problem only intensified when you actually started dating.

Shared inside jokes that no longer even required vocal cues for you both to start snickering in the middle of the grocery store when you see a ‘buy one get one free’ sign on the chicken wings. Your tendency to simply hold your arms above your head when you get sick of your sweater, knowing he’ll be there to tug it off for you. The automatic sorting of bags of candy into two piles: your favorite flavors and the flavors-you-don’t-like-as-much for your dedicated boyfriend.

Being around Caleb had always felt like creating your own unique language that only the two of you could comprehend. 

You had never really known what being alone really meant until those long, grueling months when you were the only one left in the world who spoke it.

The thought settled uncomfortably in your chest, prompting you to stretch your hand out across the divider that separated you from your boyfriend who was currently driving you both to the pier for a casual Friday night date. 

Without even looking, Caleb moved his free hand from your thigh to intertwine with your own. His thumb tapped a steady rhythm against you, spelling out the beat of your shared favorite song. It wasn’t even playing on the radio. Just another quiet little affirmation of the two of you.

[kedreeva]

I have a question, how much would you estimate it costs you yearly for the peacocks? Do you generally turn a profit when you sell them, or is it mostly a passion thing?

I almost certainly do NOT turn a profit on them, it's very much a passion for me lol

In a very rough breakdown, feed is ~$22 for a 50lb bag, and they go through around $800-1000 of it a year. Their scratch grain mix typically comes out to..... around maybe $30/50lbs and they go through around $100 of that a year. The bedding that goes into the pens is another $100/year or so (more if it's a cold winter). I have never counted the water/electricity bill for them but it's not zero. And that's the very, very, very basics for them- food, water, bedding. It doesn't include any of the myriad treats and fresh feeds they get, nor equipment replacements (though this is minimal most years), nor vet bills (which varies by year), and it doesn't factor in the initial cost of building the pens for them (over $2k per pen), or any maintenance on the pens, and it doesn't cover the $125-300 charge for becoming NPIP certified, nor the pullorum antigen that's over $100 to do the testing.

The babies typically sell for ~$100-200 each, depending on the color/pattern/sex and how good the year is going (I've definitely had years where the market ends up being under $100/bird), and I normally produce somewhere between 10 and 20 of them a year. I've more recently been selling the hollow eggs on etsy which is usually good for a few extra bucks, but not a lot since I don't push my girls to lay, so I don't tend to have a lot of eggs to hollow out. Selling the chicks can usually cover the cost of feed, and probably the cost of bedding. On a really good year with little vet involvement, I will break even, or even have a little extra to hold onto for whatever the next vet visit will be. On a bad year I am deeply in the hole and continuing to do what I do because I love the birds, not because they make me any money.

With these guys, you don't really "turn a profit" until you start cutting corners (little to no vet care, cheap feed, no extras, etc) and producing more birds than you can reasonably care for to a good standard.

[never-rxne]

─── all the quiet nights you bear

content warning(s): hurt/comfort, sickfic (mentions of fever dreams), fluff, light angst, no defined or established relationship, hint of yearning, gn reader (cishet men dni...obviously) 

wc: 1.6k

note: this is just shameless fluff i wrote because i’m sick and miserable and why not project that onto sevika ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"and all the quiet nights you bear seal them up with care no one needs to know they're there for i will hold them for you." —Mitski, “I Will”

At first, the symptoms don't show in normal ways. In fact, they barely show at all. 

She’ll smother her coughs in the folds of her cloak, wave it off as a speck of dust in her throat, cigar ash. She was always good at that. Feigning strength. Covering up weaknesses. Like second nature. 

The fever that was ripping through the Lanes, a new virus of some sort, was on the radar of everyone who called Zaun home. But it was next to impossible to imagine Sevika falling victim to it. She had an immune system like steel. In all the years you had known her, you had never seen her catch so much as a passing cold. 

This time it’s different. Something is wrong. She’ll try her best to conceal it, but you know her too well to let even the smallest of hints escape you. The way she stumbles over her feet, catching herself on the doorframe, pausing briefly to catch her breath before she goes on with her work. The thin sheen of sweat along her hairline. Her labored breathing as the two of you walk up the steps into an airship. 

You know the worst way to confront her is to tell her point-blank to take a break. She’ll just scoff, mutter something about you overreacting, walk away before you can get another word out. 

Even worse would be to call her out within the earshot of any of the lackeys. They weren’t exactly devoted to each other, and certainly weren’t on friendly terms with Silco’s closest enforcer. They remembered their little “meetings” with her whenever they tried to sneak themselves a higher cut of the profits. A hint of a weak spot—the smallest of openings—they’d be on her like hounds. 

So you wait until you have her alone in Silco’s empty office. He’s out for the day on a business trip down the other districts of Zaun. As Sevika goes through the shipment records, you can see her hand trembling with exhaustion. 

Slowly, you walk over to where she stands hunched over the desk. You set a glass of water down on the table. She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t give a word or a nod of thanks. But she puts down the papers and drains the water like she’s been parched for days. 

“What’re you trying to do—infect the whole company?” You ask, keeping your tone casual. 

She snaps her gaze at you. “The hell are you talking about?” 

There it is. The tell-tale rasp in her voice. 

You reach up to press the back of your hand against her forehead. Irritably, she swats your hand away. You slap her back, reaching up again to feel her skin. She’s burning up. 

“How long have you been walking around like a living corpse?” 

Sevika turns away. “It’s not that bad. I can handle it.”

“‘Handle it’, my ass. You just marked all these shipment records as fulfilled.” 

Sevika looks down at the faulty manifests. She lets out a heavy sigh of frustration, swearing under her breath. 

“Go home, Sevika.” 

She tries to scoff, but it catches in her throat and turns into a coughing fit. 

“I’ll put it this way,” you say, laying a hand on her arm, “you stay, and you'll double the work by messing everything up. Best thing you could do for anybody right now is rest.” 

She opens her mouth to argue. You know exactly what she’s about to say, so you beat her to the punch. Gathering the papers into your arms, you push her toward the door. “I’ll cover for you. I’ll fix these forms up. You just try to stay upright on the walk home.” 

She snorts. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Sevika.” 

She ignores you, reaches for the papers in your hands. You shake your head. If she thinks she’s the only  stubborn ass in this room, she’s forgetting who she’s standing in front of. 

Standing. Well. Barely. The woman’s ready to topple over any second.

“Right,” you say. You march over to the corner of the room, shoving the papers into your satchel. “Then I’m taking you home myself.” 

“What?” 

You hook your arm through hers, shepherding her toward the door. You can feel the heat radiating through her sleeve. “You’re in no damn condition to be working up here.” 

꩜

Once you’ve wrestled her into bed, she falls asleep almost immediately. Brows creased with the remnants of her resistance to the limitations of her own body. 

She’s out cold for seventeen straight hours. 

In the meantime, you straighten things up. Clean the bottles off the floor of her dimly lit apartment. Open the windows in the kitchen to let some of the stale air out, the smell of cigarette smoke hanging thick. For all the time you’ve known her, it’s been ages since you’ve last seen her place. It’s just the same as you remember. Minus the deck of cards that always used to sit at the corner of the kitchen table. It’s been replaced by several used-up lighters, which you throw away. 

She wakes up at intervals, blinking slowly at you as if she’s only half-processing you’re there. You have the papers laid out in front of you on the table, signing off all the reports of Shimmer shipments. 

You don’t notice her watching you at first. 

“Need something?” You’re already getting up, reaching for the jug of water nearby. “What is it?” 

Sevika parts her dry lips. In a voice scraped raw, so weak you need to lean in to hear her, she says, “you don’t…you don’t have to do this.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You don’t have to…look after me like this.” 

You huff impatiently. “Don’t waste your strength talking nonsense.” You feel her forehead again, pull the blanket closer to her chin. “Want me to make you tea?” 

Sevika searches your face, her grey eyes darting, before her lids close again. She turns over, pulling the blanket around her. “It’s fuckin’ cold,” she mutters, and drifts off again. 

꩜

The illness stays for days. 

You’ve moved in temporarily, your clothes hang haphazardly from the furniture, and dirty bowls and cups litter the kitchen. You’ve bribed everyone you knew at the Last Drop to keep things hushed about Sevika’s condition. As far as you know, only Silco knows the truth. 

You do everything you can to quell the fever. Bathe her face and body with cold compresses, stripping off her clothes and drawing the cloth over her skin to bring down the temperature. Murmuring softly to her as she flinched from the cold, muttering indecipherable things in her sleep. You wrap her in every blanket you can find in the apartment. You wake her up intermittently to get her to drink some water, feed her some soup, but nothing stays down for long. 

It’s worse late at night, when she has the fever dreams, when she thrashes in bed and drenches the sheets with sweat, crying out names of people you’ve never heard of before. When she wakes up and stares at you but doesn’t seem to recognize you, grey eyes glassy and bloodshot. 

“You here to finish me off?” She asks you in a wild, hoarse voice, over and over. “Huh? You here to watch me go?” 

You don’t know who she thinks you are. You wipe the sweat from her face. You climb into bed and press your body to her burning skin, holding her close until she stops tossing and turning, until you can feel her fall back into troubled sleep.  

You try not to let yourself get scared. Try to keep the fears at bay, try to keep your wits about you. By now you’ve heard the rumors of the spreading fever taking the lives of the weaker ones—a new infection, cross-contamination—something to do with the waste waters from Topside. People are dropping like flies. Rumors of new symptoms start to circulate. 

Not Sevika. It won’t happen to Sevika. 

She’s too strong. She’s fought for too long. 

You don’t let yourself think about the worst that could happen. Sevika had always been in your life, an unstoppable force…you’re realizing now you had taken her strength for granted. Never, never for a moment would you have dreamed of a possibility that you might lose her. 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about a life where she isn’t there. 

You don’t think you could handle it. 

꩜

Around midnight at the end of a long, hellish week, her fever breaks. You could have cried out of relief. Her pulse finally drops to a normal rate. She wakes up briefly to drink some water and for the first time, her eyes are lucid when she looks at you. 

“Hey,” she says. “You look like hell.” 

“You look worse,” you retort, wiping a trickle of water that runs down her chin.

A small smile. The sight feels better than the high of any drug. 

You don’t need to watch over her that night. You watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest for several minutes, and feel a strange twist in your heart. Like the softest of wounds has opened up in your soul. Then you go back out to the living room, and promptly pass out on the couch.  

When you check on her in the morning, she’s already sitting up in bed, rubbing a hand over her eyes. 

“Hey, you,” you say softly, brushing the sweaty strands of hair out of her face. “Welcome back.” 

“I feel like shit,” she grumbles. Her peevish tone makes you smile. 

“As long as you’re alive.”

[brie-annwyl]

Superbat but Clark knows Bruce is Batman, and Bruce has no fucking clue Clark is Superman.

How he finds out? First time Clark and Bruce meet he sees multiple bat styled gadgets on under his 3 piece suit, he also has multiple weapons on him so Clark is like “super villain or Batman?” The next time Clark meets Batman he recognizes the heartbeat and does a soft ‘Ah.’ In realization (Batman asks only for Clark to wave his question off)

How they get together? Clark knows Bruce as both Bruce Wayne and Batman so he has inside knowledge of the intelligence he holds. Bruce accidentally lets slip a few things about himself (things he hides deep inside for no one else to know) and is pleasantly surprised that Clark Kent, a reporter who could’ve profited greatly off of that information didn’t do a single thing. They meet a few more times, both during and outside of their obligations as who they are perceived to be. Lois starts asking Clark if he’s going out with Bruce, if they’re a thing. And Clark honestly doesn’t know how to answer that question until Bruce randomly kissed him when they’re alone at a gala.

About a year into their relationship is when Bruce realizes Clark knows. He comes home late from a rough patrol, not hospitalization worthy but he’ll still need some help from Alfred before he tries leaving the cave. When he arrives in the cave, he can already see the medbay set up for his arrival. He basically rips his mask off as he faces away from the entrance to the cave and just starts taking off his suit. When he hears footsteps coming from behind them, he assumes it’s Alfred.

“I’m not interested in an ultimatum from you tonight, Alfred.”

“Good thing I’m not Alfred.”

Bruce almost shits himself as he immediately jumps up and turns to face his lovely boyfriend Clark, who isn’t even looking at Bruce. He’s putting on gloves whilst getting gauze ready.

“Clark-“

“Sit down, Bruce.”

Slowly but surely, Bruce relaxes back into the cot with Clark cleaning his wounds behind him. They don’t talk about it, Bruce tries to tell himself it was a dream but realizes he can’t when the next night Clark looks at across the dinner table and tells him flat out that he’s not going on patrol tonight and if he tries Clark will tie him to the bed. Bruce doesn’t go on patrol.

This Superbat idea is just soooooo fun and interesting to me, think of the betrayal Bruce will feel when he finds out about Superman??? Anyone else like Hurt/Comfort over here?



[revelboo]

ngl Ratbat kindaaa??

Wonder why there's so little content for him, is he like...? just not used as much in the comics? I'm so clueless.

Would you perhaps have any ideas in that glorious brain for him? If not it's cool (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

Ah, in IDW, he was a senator and behind automating the mine Megatron worked in while trying to make a profit, and accidentally set Megatron on the path to become the leader of the Decepticons.

Soundwave pretty much yoinks his spark and shoves it into a cassette frame (why he’s so salty in Everything Is Alright)

He’s lovely, but such a manipulative dick lol

🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Pet

Ratbat x Reader

• “Go,” he growls, lifting a hand dismissively as he strides past Soundwave. “Find me something new. An opportunity.” Because dealing with the other senators has him in a mood. Ancient, backwards thinking fools. Unable to see beyond their rules and laws. To understand that their word is law. That they already hold the power, they just have to use it. Letting himself into his opulent habsuite, his optics slide around the space until he finds his little pet. Aggravation shifting to need.

• He’s back. And in a mood. Body heating as those yellow optics lock on you, hearing him snarl a command at you. While you can’t understand anything the massive alien says, you do understand what he’s demanding. It had been your idea to barter yourself, your body, to him in exchange for food, shelter, and the pampered life of a glorified pet. You’d just happened to luck out and find yourself in the care of an alien with a massive xenophilia kink. Slipping the sheer, loose garment from your shoulders, you sprawl on your belly on that cushioned bit of furniture he’d had made for you that puts your hips up at the angle he likes.

• “Such a good pet,” he snarls, mass displacing and joining you, a hand sliding up your spine. What would those old bastards think of him fragging an organic? That he has a little, pet frag toy? They’d probably blow a fuse. Freeing his spike, he slides his length against you, pleased to find you slick. Always so ready and eager for him. And those alien noises you make as he buries himself inside you? They sound so obscene, just like the wet sound of you taking his spike. Remembers Soundwave finding you and bringing you to him as a curiosity and he’d been so close to telling the other mech to discard you. So glad he changed his mind now.

• Clinging to the cushion as he stretches you and snarls, moving against you in hard drives of his hips, you whimper. A part of you aware that you really should try to get him to understand you, to try to learn each other’s languages. But you’re enjoying being pampered and fussed over. You’re pretty sure he just sees you as a plaything, but he’s constantly giving you gifts and crooning at you. And the sex? Mind blowing and addictive. Body coiling, you whimper and push back to meet his thrusts. “Please,” you whimper, nails digging into cushion. “Harder.”

• Hips snapping against you, he hears your breath catch before you cry out, chirping urgently in your alien nonsense as you fist his spike. And he keeps rutting against you, denta clenched as he lets the feel of your slick heat milking his spike tip him into his own overload. Servos digging into the cushion under you, his hips pump as he fills you. And your head turns to look up at him, chirping sweetly. “That’s right. You’re so good, aren’t you?” He croons, mouth brushing against your shoulder. And so easy to train. Hips rocking against you, he smiles when you moan, eyes closing. “Feel like you’re made just to take my spike.”

Soundwave being practical and getting a bit of revenge

[personal-person1]

gaslight district yap session incoming

been turning over in my mind the fact that breadhead was an accident, and ken would've clearly known he was alive to some extent, but would he have figured sentient? bonus question, would he have Cared right off the bat?

totaling all the ingredients from the recipe, breadhead was born as the 140kg giant we saw in the pilot. that's a LOT of scarab spent on bread meant to be served, ken wouldn't pivot just cause its got eyes and it can complain (afterall, his menu is almost exclusively litterbug dishes)

what im thinking - when ken realized he has the mark of the black hand, he saw profit to be made. that money didn't go to waste afterall, cause they could just chop him up periodically to get fresh bread! and breadhead, imprinted on ken like a baby duckling because he created him, loyal to a fault, and mentally the age of a toddler, wouldn't have even needed chains to stay at the butcher shop - cause if you train somebody to just take the abuse from a young age, they won't even consider it an option to fight back (personal experience and projecting on this part)

when breadhead's language capabilities develop enough to verbally complain, to let him ask questions about WHY this is his life, ken... starts to feel conflicted. with how obedient this golem was until this point, he figured it wasn't intelligent life. but he is. breadhead is very much a person, and young and naive at the time.

now, the guilt comes crashing down on ken too hard to let him ignore it anymore. he stops chopping off pieces altogether, suddenly starts being Nice and treating breadhead like a family member, trying to karmically atone for all the suffering he caused - because under that facade of a careless butcher is a man that cares very, very much, and can't ignore a child's cries

(tying into the fact he DEFINITELY didn't bring mel into the district intending to raise her. he most certainly brought her home fully intending to kill her... but she was so small, and so cold, and so innocent, that he couldn't bring himself to do it. ken has a huge soft spot for kids)

this all comes to me from the fact that ken is TOO nice to breadhead in the car, the kind of sticky sickly sweet that only ever appears out of guilt, as atonement. "you've been nothing but good to me" unspoken, i haven't been good to you. unspoken, i don't deserve how good you've been because im a monster, and im sorry i ruined you too.

unspoken, i'm so sorry. forever unspoken

messy doodles on the topic, ok that's all!

[pinkiemachine]

I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

[norixseaweed]

Between Rooms: Masterlist + Intro (Ateez Smut series)

Title: Between Rooms Rating: 18+ NSFW (MDNI) Characters: Ateez OT8, Female Reader/You Synopsis: Eight men. One house. And you, right in the middle of it. What started as a lucky break, an affordable room in a cozy mansion, quickly turned into something else entirely. You didn’t expect to bond with them so easily. You definitely didn’t expect the tension. Or the teasing glances. Or the way they touched you when no one else was around. This is a roommate AU (mostly cuz i didn't wanna logic around them being idols) A/N: There will be a little bit of boyxboy action at some point too ;)

Status: On Going

Masterlist-

Chapter 1: Jongho

Chapter 2: Seunghwa

Chapter 3: coming soon...

Chapter 4: ...

Intro and Character Introductions under read more

Intro:

You work as a bartender at one of the best bars in the city. The pay is decent, especially with tips, and overall, you’re pretty content with where you are in your career. The only issue? Your lease is about to end, and every new place you’ve looked at has been outrageously expensive.

One night, while venting about it to your friend and coworker Mingi, the bar’s security, he mentioned an open room for rent at the house he lives in.

He explained that it’s a mansion passed down through generations in the landlord’s family. He’s been living there for a few years now with seven other guys, and the landlord? A sweet, humble older woman who doesn’t care much about profit. She just wants to rent to good people and keep the house lived in.

Naturally, you were skeptical. Eight guys? A mansion? Too many red flags. But Mingi reassured you, it was a good space, the roommates were chill, and the rent was somehow cheaper than your current apartment.

Eventually, he brought you over to see it. You were expecting something flashy, intimidating. But the mansion turned out to be warm, cozy, less extravagant and more homey than you'd imagined. And when you met a few of the others, you felt comfortable right away. It didn’t take long for you to say yes.

Now here you are, seven months later.

You settled in faster than expected. Most of the guys welcomed you easily. It took a little more time with Yeosang and Yunho, but even they opened up eventually.

What you didn’t expect, though, was how hot and intense things could get with them.

And god, was it hot.

You always knew your libido was higher than most—none of your exes had ever been able to keep up. But these men?

They were something else entirely.

Character Introductions:

You – Bartender. The most recent to join the house. Reserved at first, but warm, caring, and easy to get along with once comfortable. Mostly submissive, with a soft dominant streak that shows around the right people.

Seonghwa – Fashion designer. Meticulous, calm, and quietly commanding. Manages the house like it’s part of his brand—organized, elegant, and always in control when it counts.

Hongjoong – Songwriter and producer. Creative, intense, and constantly working odd hours in his studio. Sharp-witted with a habit of teasing just to watch you squirm.

Yunho – Business management major with a hospitality minor. Polished, dependable, and flirtatious in the most casual, disarming way. The type to make your heart race with a single comment—then act like he didn’t mean it.

Yeosang – Law student. Private, intelligent, and observant to a fault. He doesn’t speak often, but when he does, it hits. Gives off silent authority and unshakable composure, with something darker simmering underneath.

San – Architecture student. Sweet, affectionate, and physically expressive—until things turn heated. In bed, he’s all control, with a soft spot for brats who need taming.

Wooyoung – Performing arts major. Loud, physical, shamelessly flirty, and always stirring the pot. Loves attention, lives for praise, and crumbles beautifully under dominance.

Mingi – Bar security and part-time choreographer. Playful, protective, and deceptively laid-back. Loves touch, thrives on rhythm, and turns surprisingly serious when he takes control.

Jongho – Coder by day, game streamer by night. Grounded, quiet, and impossibly strong. He gives more than he takes—focused entirely on your pleasure, with calm intensity that sneaks up on you.

[6nipplesisanormalamount]

Ben Florian x Reader

“Right this way, ma’am.” You looked up from your phone to see a well-dressed woman pointing her arms in the directions of the conference room.

Your parents were grooming you to take over the company. They’ve been dragging you to meetings since you were 16, hoping you would soak in some information, and as your father put it “learn from the best”. You were in college now but your father still had you sit in on certain meetings.

Today was one of those meetings. A yearly negotiation with their fiercest competitors. It was basically a civilized version of a turf war- who would have what area of the land, who could sell what. Each year, they switched which building it was held at, so no one could claim some sort of an unfair advantage.

You sat down next to your father, flanked by lawyers, assistants and other important people. The other half of the mirrored yours, including the man who sat across from you. Ben Florian. His parents were the rival CEOs, grooming him to take over the business. He had also been coming these meetings since he was 16 as well.

You smiled at him through your lashes and he gave you a smile back. You grabbed your phone and stealthily started texting as the room around you erupted in talk about yearly profits, collaborations, other things you were quickly drowning out.

You-

“A three piece suit? Don’t you look appetizing.”

You shot off the text and waited for his response, feigning interest in the current topics. He grabbed his own phone off of the table and you watched as his eyes flicked over your text. He smiled and his own hands went under the table to text you back.

Ben-

“I have to make an impression, don’t I?”

His hands pause, he looked up and then back down again.

Ben-

“You’re one to talk, wearing that dress.”

You smiled down at your phone. You might have chosen your outfit with a specific intent in mind. A black dress, just short enough to be provocative, but long enough to be not entirely inappropriate for a business setting.

You-

“I think it’s more notable what I’m not wearing.”

You sat your phone in your lap and let the conversation hang while Ben’s father gave some sort of pitch on product placement.

Ben bit his lip and adjusted his legs and you had to swallow a satisfied smile. You knew he would be thinking of that for the rest of the meeting.

When he was finished, your own father turned to you. “The rest of this is just shop talk with the lawyers. You can head up to the sky lounge if you want, get some lunch?”

You nodded to him and tried to act like you weren’t tingling with excitement. Ben’s father turned to him and encouraged Ben to do the same. “Why don’t you go with her, Benjamin? We can handle it here.”

He made a sound of acknowledgement, stood up and strode over to the door, holding it open for you. You thanked him and bid the room goodbye.

Once you were down the hall to the elevators, past the prying eyes of the glass office, Ben grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss. He kept eyes to yours as he did so. You blushed but held his stare.

The elevator dings, giving warning the doors were about to open. Ben steps back and you hope you look as composed as he does. The doors open to reveal the elevator is empty.

Ben grabbed your hand once more and pulled you softly into the elevator. You followed him, your heart fluttering at the contact. Ben uses his other hand to pick the button for the roof.

The doors had barley closed before Ben was on you, his lips smashing into yours. He pinned your body to the wall with his, one of his hands resting on your waist, the other cupping your cheek. You squeaked in surprise before pulling your mouth reluctantly from his.

“What about the camera?” You asked, pointing to the device in the corner.

“It’s the weirdest thing, it stopped working this morning.” He gave you a naughty smile. “Techs can’t make it out until tomorrow.” He punctuated the last word with a kiss to your shoulder, kissing his way up your collarbone to your neck.

You moaned softly and relax, the threat put out of your mind. You grabbed a handful of his hair, and forced his head up, his lips meeting yours. He kissed you hungrily, like a man starved. You open your mouth, letting his tongue rub against yours. You could feel his clothed cock rubbing against you. His hands were roaming, as if he was studying every curve of your body. You savored his touch. Your own hands were busy loosening his tie and unbuttoning his vest. His hands were headed under your dress when the elevator dinged, alerting you that you had reached your destination.

Ben groaned but pulled his mouth from yours. He put his hand out to stop the doors from shutting and let you lead the way.

The roof was mostly empty, to make way from the helipad. The only other things up there were three utility sheds, one of which Ben’s father had given him free range of, as they were rarely used.

When Ben was a teenager, he made it into his own little hidey-hole, a place to go when his father dragged him to his office. Now that Ben was older, he had had it upgraded.

When he had to stay at the office too late or needed a break, he would head up to the roof. He outfitted it with a bed, a tv, air conditioning. It was truly his own little home away from home. It was also where you would go to have mind blowing sex.

It became a tradition of yours years ago. It started out as simple kisses, curious teenagers who were left to their own devices. A friendship that became more.

But as you grew, so did your relationship. You would slip away together, at every shared conference, meeting and charity ball. He was your first and you were his.

You had both had relationships in between, with a mutual understanding that either of you could put this on pause, and it wouldn’t damage your friendship. Though you hadn’t had to put it on pause for 3 years in a row now.

You led Ben to the door and Ben stood behind you, kissing your neck as he entered the code. The door opened with a beep and before you could step in Ben flipped you around, he grabbed your hips and walked you into the room backwards, his lips connected to yours the whole way.

The back of your knees hit the bed. Ben cupped your ass, lifting you without breaking your kiss. You kick off your shoes. He lightly tossed you on the bed, and you giggled in response. He stops for a moment and removes his suit jacket.

He stood in front of you admiring your disheveled state. You took the chance to do the same, you leaned on your elbows and took all of him in. He was truly beautiful. His pupils were blown, his normally hazel eyes almost black. His hair was wild, his tie hung loosely off his neck. He was just in his very wrinkled undershirt and pants now. Pants with a very prominent tent. You couldn’t help but smirk at how hard you had gotten him. A smirk that was not lost on Ben.

“Proud of yourself?” He asks. You nod in response. He licked his lips and gave you a wolfish smile. He finished taking off his shirt before he falls to his knees in front of the bed. He grabbed your legs and drags you to the edge of the bed. “God, you are….” He seems to consider a moment. “Delectable.” He finished with a kiss to your ankle. He kisses up your leg, teasingly slow. You squirmed, trying to push yourself up towards his lips and he tightened his grip on your ankles. He made a tsk-ing sound, chiding you for your impatience.

“You know better than that, princess.” He said, placing a single kiss on your thigh. “If there’s something you want-“ Another kiss, just inches away from your entrance. “I need to hear that beautiful voice of yours.”

“Please, Ben.” You begged. “I need you.” Ben groaned in response but didn’t move.

“Need me to what?”

“Ben.” You whined, frustrated by his teasing. He chuckled then gave in, finally giving you what you needed. He dove his face into your thighs, his tongue immediately finding your clit. You moaned at the contact, pleasure blooming through you. The noises spurred him on and he started licking more enthusiastically, working hard to make you come undone under him.

Ben loved hearing the sounds you made. He loved being the one to make you make those sounds. He had power, money, and to be honest, girls often threw themselves at him. He was an accomplished man. But nothing made him feel more accomplished, more powerful, than when he was able to make you dizzy with pleasure. To feel you shake beneath him. Which is exactly what he was doing right now.

Ben slid a finger in you, earning his loudest moan yet. He groaned as you squeezed around him. “Fuck, I can barely get a finger in you.” He pumped his finger into you, while continuing to flick your clit. Ben pulled his face away from you, and his chin glistened with your juices. You grabbed his chin, lifting his head up to meet yours. He looked so beautiful, so perfect.

You kissed Ben passionately, his fingers still pumping into you. You reached your own hand down and began stroking Ben, trying to reciprocate the pleasure he was giving you, back. He stalls for a moment, hissing at the new sensation.

After enjoying your touch for a moment more, Ben pull away. You frown at the loss of contact, but aren’t waiting for long when Ben picks you up, laying you back down on the bed, at a better angle. He then climbs on the bed himself, caging your body in with his. He lines his head up with your clit, then slowly thrust himself forward, teasing you. “Fuck, baby.” You groan. You thrust your hips forward, hoping your entrance would find his cock. Ben ignores your attempts. You swallow hard.

“Please, fuck me.” Ben follows your orders immediately, sliding himself into you. You both gasp, then you curse as Ben continues to work himself inside you.

Ben had learned, over time, that he was too big to just push in all at once. However, on the list of problems to navigate, this was one he had no problem remedying. Your breath caught in your throat as he bottomed out, then he sat for a moment letting you both adjust.

He always made you feel so full. It felt like you were made for each other, his cock hitting every space, just right. After a beat, Ben gave an experimental thrust.

When you responded eagerly, his thrusts grew deeper, finding a rhythm that pulsated pleasure through both of you. Waves of euphoria crashed into you, and threatened to send you over the edge. Ben caught your mouth with his, keeping his thrusts steady.

You clawed your nails into Ben’s back. Ben knew you well enough by now to know that meant you were close. He groaned and began thrusting harder. Your orgasm hit you all at once, like a truck. You all but screamed, lost in pleasure, your walls fluttering around Ben’s cock. Ben follows right behind you, his own hips stuttering as he fills you.

You both sit still for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Ben pulls back taking in your flushed and panting form before he kisses you, passionately, tenderly. He continues to kiss you as he pulls out of you, you both groan as he does so.

He flops down next to you, pulling you into his chest, kissing you on the forehead. You snuggled into him, savoring his touch. You hear his strong heartbeat thumping loudly through his chest.

“You know,” you began. “They’re going to get suspicious if we keep disappearing together.” You giggle.

Ben grabs your hand and kisses your engagement ring softly, chuckling. “I think it’s perfectly natural for me to want to hide away with my future bride, especially when she’s so beautiful.” You roll your eyes then kiss your fiancé, long and hard.

“The future Mrs. Florian.” Ben smiled down at you. “I can’t wait.”

[osleeplessflowero]

//I've had this on Ao3 since last year, I forgot to post it here so..why not do it now? :)

Bittersweet

A Short Flirty Vampire!Nightmare x Vampire Hunter!Reader Oneshot

Spice warning, Licking/Biting

Thunder roars in the moonlit sky. You travel under the cover of night, following a path. You keep your hand over a blade at your side, the cloak you're wearing flowing behind you as you run.

"You are the only person we can count on to defeat this monster. He's killed off many of our own long enough. Dispose of it at once, we beg of you!"

You stare up at the now illuminated mansion, running closer to it and halting once you reach the front doors. Your hand hovers over the knob. ..There's no time to dwell on it, just get it done..

You open the door abruptly, walking forward. Lightning strikes in the distance behind you as you point your now unsheathed sword forwards. 

Before you sits a large monster on his throne, tentacles twisting around and moving ever so slightly. His single eyelight falls on you, glowing throughout the dark room as it rests on you. His attire is fancy, you've seen quite a few eye-catching looks from him before. NOT THAT THEY CAUGHT YOURS-- That's ABSURD--

"Welcome back, darling. I was wondering when you'd return to me." A grin stretches across his face.

"I'm here to slay you, Nightmare. Once and for all. Your soul will look gorgeous on my shelf.." 

"You already have my soul..my heart as well. There is no need for all of this." He rests his cheek on the palm of his left hand.

You feel your cheeks heat up a bit. No, NONONO. You are here to KILL him, don't fall for him- NO.

Taking a deep breath, you charge at him. "There's no time for idle chitchat-"

"A shame..I could talk with you for hours, love." 

You jump up, slashing your sword downwards before a tentacle grabs you, holding you in place before throwing you backwards, onto the floor. 

"Winning the approval of some mindless villagers is quite meaningless, you know. Wouldn't you rather go towards the arms of someone who actually wants you there?" 

"I'm not doing this for approval-" You jump towards him again, swinging your sword before he knocks you back once more.  

He stands up, tentacles reaching out in different directions. He looks..amused by your attempts to attack him. You want to wipe that shit eating grin off of his face. 

"Don't pretend like you actually want to kill me." 

"I do, and I WILL-"

You're cut off by a tentacle wrapping itself around you, another trapping your arms and dragging you towards him so you can see him face-to-face. 

He reaches out his hand, placing it against your cheek. You feel your face heat up even more, trying to turn away before he caresses your chin, holding it in place with his thumb and index finger. 

"Why do you resist your true desires? For your reputation? For the profits of the hunt? I could give you so much more. You don't need this life..wouldn't you rather stay with me?"

"Stop it. Your devilish charms won't work on me."

He chuckles, staring into your eyes. "I've done nothing but talk, my dear. Perhaps it's simply you that finds me charming." 

"You'd certainly wish that were the case, wouldn't you?" You struggle to get out of the tentacle's grasp.

"I know it's the case."

"Just how would you know that?" 

"For one, I can see it on your face. And second..it's why you've hesitated to kill me each time we've fought..you can't bear the thought of killing me. So you hesitate and hesitate until someone asks you to do it..and even then.." He lifts one of your trembling hands with his own. "You still don't want to do it."

"I.." You avert your eyes from him. 

He's right..and god, do you hate it. 

The fights..the banter..the tension..all of it drew you more and more in. 

Why? Why did it have to be a vampire, the very species you're trying to hunt down and exterminate for good? Why must fate be this cruel? 

"Well? What now, Vampire Hunter?" 

You break free from the tentacle's grip, raising your sword once more. 

He stands completely still, holding out his arms. 

"Go on, then. Make your move. I'm even making it easy for you.."

You shudder, staring at the end of your blade, which is only inches from his chest. One strike to the soul and it'd be over. 

..Why aren't you moving? Why are you just standing there?

The sword shakes along with you. 

"Even if I were to give up..all you'd do is kill me and take my blood. I know your type." You glare into his piercing gaze.

"I wouldn't dream of killing you, darling. You're much too precious to me.." His eyelight narrows a bit, a light green flush manifesting over his cheekbones. 

You gulp, moving a foot back. Keep your stance wide..body lowered..just hit him. Kill him and get this over with.

"Just as I thought. You can't do it."

"I- I'm getting to it-"

"You won't kill me, because you love me. You love me so much you can't stand it."

You glare down at the floor. 

The sound of a sword making contact with something is heard. 

Nightmare's eyelight shrinks as your sword falls from your hands. You collapse, placing your hands over your eyes. 

He lowers his arms, walking over to you and knocking the blade out of the way with one of his tentacles, kneeling in front of you.

"There's no need to hide how you truly feel. I understand it more than anyone in this universe could."

"It's not fair. Why does it have to be you?" You stare at him.

"Fate works in mysterious ways, my dear. It simply brought our souls together..a collective feeling. Fate brought us together, and fate will not tear us apart..I'll make sure of that."

"What am I supposed to do? Go back there and tell them I didn't kill you? They'll burn me at the stake or something-"

"There's no need to go back." 

"I live there, smart guy."

"Yes..but you don't have to any longer. You could always..stay with me." 

You put your hand over your mouth. 

"No, I couldn't possibly-"

"I insist. This way we wouldn't have to be separated again..it works out for both of us, doesn't it?"

You frown, looking at your sword. "But my work..my efforts...everything would be left behind."

"You could always..find something new for yourself." 

You turn back to him, seeing a small smile on his face. ..Maybe he's right. This work wasn't exactly making you all that happy, anyway..

"We can arrange something..make it look like we killed each other in a long battle. That way you will still have your..dignity, I suppose, and we both get to leave together." 

"How do I know I could trust you? Vampires are known for persuasiveness."

"If I am to betray your trust, I give you full permission to put a blessed blade through my soul. Do we have an agreement?"

"..Very well.."

He grins, lifting your head with his hand. "Now then..may I claim you as my own?"

Your face flushes, warming up. Wow, if you told your past self this would happen you'd have never believed it. 

"Speak, darling."

"..Yes."

He leans down, hovering over your neck, exposing it. You shiver as you feel his hot breath against your skin. He moves his long tongue over it slowly, savoring your taste. You bite your lip, feeling yourself get a little excited.

He pauses for a brief moment, admiring your expression before sinking his teeth into you, holding you still with his hands. 

You wince, leaning back a bit before he grabs you to make sure you don't fall. 

You feel yourself begin to grow weak, and only then does he stop, wiping away your precious blood from his mouth. 

"Ah..Bittersweet..just how I like it."

Staring longingly into his eyelight, you lean your head against his chest as he lifts you in a bridal carry, beginning to use his magic to fix up the room. 

"A shame..I quite liked this vacation home. Oh well..there's always others."

You close your eyes, needing rest from today's events. 

[little-one-eyed-monsters]

Top Form/SmartBoom fandom I come bearing something funny (hear me out) 😅

Prior to Top Form, I watched Boom Raweewit as the lead in Chains of Heart:

And I know Smart Chisanupong had a support and cameo role in Don't Say No and Love in the Air as Leon:

(Just casually straddling a unicorn pool floaty here)

And I didn't know this an hour ago, but do you know where else we BL watchers may have seen Boom before?

Boom was the random guy at the bar that Gun kissed (and Off punched) in Ep 11 of doom of Theory of Love 🤣🤣🤣

Dear God, no wonder the reaction to that punch was so dramatic 😅 Boom had to go all Juilliard for it!

I remember watching this scene years ago and thinking, "Damn, dude couldn't catch a break. Gets kissed out of nowhere and punched out of nowhere. I hope they credited him for that." And you know what?

THEY DIDN'T 😆

I love this so much, it's so random 😅

On a sadder note, what I got from Boom's MDL is that he's been in the industry for so long, but all he's been offered are B-roles and cameos. But I'm going through his back catalog now and he's really freaking talented! No wonder he's so protective of Akin as a character-- he probably relates to a lot of Akin's inner turmoil about growing old in a cutthroat industry.

On another side note: I'm kind of glad Mame Orawan didn't take an interest in Smart Chisanupong when she had the chance. If they had marketed him properly, I'm sure Smart would be ten times more famous as he is right now. Smart trained as an idol so we know he can dance and sing, he apparently had a few acting classes under Yoma, his former agency (don't know how accurate this is, but if it's true, then I guess it shows in his acting), and he's gorgeous; mixed race, super tall, with a funny, boy-next-door demeanor. He's someone Mame would've jumped at the chance to market if the LITA boys didn't turn out to be so popular. But that's the thing with MeMindY; if an actor doesn't prove profitable, they hang them out to dry until the actor themselves leave. Look at Leo and Fiat for example, or most recently, Sunny. Lately, even Fort and Peat are getting the short end of the stick just because Love Sea didn't get the numbers they were hoping for.

So I'm happy Smart doesn't have to go through that, and that he's free to explore new genres and show his acting in roles that don't follow the clichè Mame format. I'm happy he gets to collab with a more experienced partner like Boom, who's currently serving as a mentor-of-sorts in an industry as unforgiving as Thai BL.

I want Boom and Smart to get so many flowers after Top Form; they DESERVE IT. I hope they're booked and busy, either separate or together (but do at least one more BL please, the chemistry must not go to waste).

And lastly, see this random waiter from My Golden Blood Ep. 1?

I don't know who you are my dude. But you're sassy and I like you. Someone get this guy a role in the next GMMTV BL stat.

[that-hippie-user]

Without hypnosis, how would you encourage someone to become a diaper-addicted bedwetter? What’s the best argument you could make to win them over?

i'd like to answer this in the form of a ramble. no hypnosis, no traps, no triggers. literally just a lesson from me to you. click below if you're curious.

some folks describe the world we're in as one that tries to fit you into a mold, to shape you a desired way.

but a mold is a very simple process, pour liquid substance into a vessel with the desired shape, let it solidify, and its done. taking an otherwise shapeless thing and giving it shape in a very easy way.

life is not a mold, but an extruder.

a length of meterial is sent down a tube, which itself gradually shifts from the original shape, to the desired one.

the process is gradual, the material shapes itself almost as if it were meant to, but it's being guided to that shape by the tunnel its in.

you werent given a role from the start and made to fit it, you were gradually acclimated to that role until it became normal.

its the small things. being corrected on how you sit, or how loud your voice is, or telling you to stop tapping your feet, or saying particular interests dont fit your role.

i used to naturally cross my legs, i had an interest in pink, i loved made for dvd cartoons like strawberry shortcake or tinker bell. turned out i was transgender, and the role of "boy" was one i was shaped to be through peer pressure.

now, what does this have to do with diapees?

put simply, you NEVER had a say in potty training.

kids often have no say in a lot of things, its taken for granted that a kid needs guidance if they're gonna be safe in this world. but potty training is a universal lesson.

how did YOU react at the time? to being told you have to "graduate" from diapers. were you agreeable? upset? did you try to rebel? it doesnt matter, all roads lead to you being potty trained.

its so deeply ingrained in our society its practically a core foundation. think about this for a moment, KINDNESS is not mandatory. sure, as a kid you're taught to share and care, but how many people do you know who carried that into adulthood? in fact, in a capitalist sense, kindness is a weakness to the goal of profit.

so, we live in a world where you CANNOT under ANY circumstance choose to be diapered, unless you "need" to, like, if there is no alternative. and yet you can live life as the biggest jerk in history and you're not even guaranteed a reprimand for it.

and yet... everyone ALSO agrees that being a kid is the best thing in the world, and you should enjoy it while you can because it wont last, you cant go back to that.

and that much IS true... but you CAN go back in some ways.

oh sure, you WILL grow up. lessons get learned, fears develop, motor function improves, your body gets taller and stronger, and your brain naturally develops as it goes, that much is ALL true...

but... you CAN still wear diapers... in fact, it almost seems like you're gently encouraged to? cuz like... every store with a pharmacy has a nearby section for adult diapers, they got ENTIRE ISLES of diapers. in every size you'd need.

because as much as society tries to tell us diapers are meant to be left behind, we cant deny that sometimes they are necessary, stores NEED these if they can have them.

and if thats the case... if systems are in place for people to wear diapers... what exactly is wrong with using them?

and furthermore, its probably the ONE holdover from childhood you can always go back to.

no matter how big you get, you cant change one universal fact. diapers exist, they have an intended function, and you CAN use them, if you are brave.

and if you do? you're being a TRUE rebel, moreso than most really. you're doing the ONE thing adults must NEVER do, the thing that potty training was MADE for.

if you wear and use diapees, you are choosing to reject an instinct of adulthood in favor of your own personal rebellious joy, and that is BADASS.

and why shouldnt you? if gender is a social construct, then so is growing up. you CAN redefine what it means to you. you can decide for yourself what it means.

and if you do... you ALSO have the option... to take it FURTHER.

because you know... training like that can be UNDONE too.

not fully, mind, your body now has the ability to know when it needs to go, that much stays.

buuuuut. your ability to hold it CAN be undone.

;3 and thats not even hypnosis, all you have to do is use your diapees! X3 im not joking, peeing yourself outside of a bathroom scenario gives your body and brain permission to do it elsewhere.

UwU and with time... it gets harder to hold it. ;3 how long does it take?

3 WEEKS

3 weeks of continued diaper use is all it takes to lose control.

but why? why lose control? what point is there is making you wet yourself? (or mess if thats your thing. X3 its certainly mine!)

because if using diapers is rebellion, then unpotty training is FREEDOM

its the ultimate middle finger to the training you were given, a sound rejection of the thing you were taught is most important.

and once you reject that... the skies the limit!

do you have any idea how much CONFIDENCE it takes to willingly make yourself a puddlepants?

if you're willing to do that, no force on this earth can stop you. gender? redefine it as you please. fashion? you wear diapers for underwear, wear whatever you want. hobbies? passions? do what you like! ;3 not like bathroom breaks can stop you anymore.

so go nuts! have fun! live life on YOUR terms.

diapers are fun, diapers are soothing, diapers are freeing, and diapers are YOURS to wear.

be free, be a mushtush!