#Earn money online without paying anything

[britannicaes]

Zero-Cost Online Earning: Unleash Your Income Potential Without Investments

Discover legitimate and no-cost methods to earn money online without investment. Explore quick and easy ways to generate income from home, with a focus on passive income and genuine online jobs. Start your online earning journey today!

Read more >>

[aeternusfoundation]

Crypto Tokens: The New Shade of Lifestyle

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[myfandomrealitea]

That post you made about Harry Potter and how to not financially support and fund the franchise and put more money in Joanne's pockets felt like a lie because I swear I got the impression that even that wasn't allowed when the whole thing started

To be clear; I stopped. Completely. I compartmentalized it all and just stopped interacting with anything Harry Potter online whatsoever. But I always wished it would be fine to still be able to do certain fandom things without supporting her, but people were saying that even using the tag or reading the fanfiction or making fanart was still supporting the ip and not letting it die completely as a topic on the internet was indirectly putting money in her pockets.

It wasn't until I came across a post from a queer woman from somewhere in the global south with heavy OCD and intrusive thoughts or something like that, commenting on how hostile of a thing it became for someone of her affliction; the way people were treating it like do or die. Pointing out that no matter how much trans people and allys cut off their support of her, she has other large means of income that we won't be able to touch, and there will still always be transphobic homophobic Harry Potter fans that will continue to support her actively, putting that money in her pockets. Another thing she mentioned was the treatment of Harry Potter and Joannes bigotry in contrast to the treatment of FNAF and the creators bigotry. And lastly something about the USAmericanized nature of it? I don't really remember that part but I think I understood it at the time I read it (maybe it was something about all the other countries the IP is popular in who are probably more conservative and unaware or caring of the issues with her who will still put money in her pockets, or maybe it was something about American fans fixating and posing the support of her as the ultimate battlefield of Trans Rights to other queer and trans individuals trying to be quiet fans who are facing Much Worse in their countries)

Anyways after that I briefly started reading ao3 fanfic again, just put a filter for anything before 2019 or so, and then my interest more gently fizzled out.

I can't remember what my point is anymore, maybe just to bring these arguments to your attention(also I am not arguing against the financial boycott or ending of support for this woman through her ip).

Harry Potter will never stop earning money. That's just the flat reality of it; I mean, look at the likes of Elvis and the original Sherlock Holmes books and every other 'dead' media that's still earning money. Short of making Harry Potter an illegal piece of media, yes, there will still always be a number of people giving her money.

The goal is to give her less money. To turn Harry Potter from a prominent, profitable cashcow into a defunct piece of media that only select groups are still clinging to. To make it so that JK Rowling has to choose between paying her bills and funding anti-trans movements.

When something stops bringing in a certain amount of profit, studios start looking elsewhere. When a cashcow starts drying up, they stop trying to milk it as hard. Which in turn means less productions for JK Rowling to collect her pocketmoney from.

What would you rather; JK Rowling getting $100,000 or JK Rowling only getting $10,000?

Something is better than nothing. Damage reduction is better than open exposure. If everyone just rolled over and gave up because "things will keep happening anyway" the world will literally be a rancid, fetid wasteland of bigotry and violence.

I'd much rather watch JK Rowling fizzle out into a bitter old wench sustained only by the dogged support of other stubborn bigots than watch people willingly disregard and condone bigotry because its "easier" and "she'll be a bigot anyway."

I'd much rather JK Rowling only have $10,000 to donate to shitty movements over $72,000. Shitty movements can do a lot less with a lot less money.

[kingshovelbug]

Hii what is your best advice to younger adults trying to make it independently and make a living? In art, savings or anything you think of. Thank you in advance!

dont be too hard on yourself. its tough out there right now in regards to like everything regardless of what old people say. also this is going to be a lot so im slapping a read more on here

⭐️ first thing id recommend for anyone is to start figuring out a budget. figure out how much youre making monthly. keep all your food receipts for a month or two to see what youre spending on food. find out what youre paying for thats necessary like utilities and whats not

the goal for a budget (or at least mine) is to find a good balance of earning vs spending. im paying off my credit card right now because i ran through all my savings after we had to move last year but my goal used to be to save 1/4 of what i earned after bills and putting money into an emergency fund (usually an emergency fund is 3 months worth of expenses). but it depends on how much you can comfortably put away. if you can put more away do it. but if you never spend money and deprive yourself of joy youre going to burn yourself out regardless of what your job is

⭐️ if youre not already buy store brand for as much shit as you can. if its an ingredient i promise as someone who cooks and bakes you probably wont notice the difference. if its an actual snack it depends. again both from a money perspective and to boycott pro-isreal companies we get a lot of snacks from aldis and theyre awesome. i dont miss anything from mars, oreos etc when i have my chocolate coconut wafers

⭐️ if you have any subscriptions and you need to get rid of something you can probably cancel them. for *most* things theres some kind of free alternative. but again just like with a budget. there are going to be some subscriptions that make your life easier and while youd save money without them it would lead to extra work and burning out. ex willow has kofi gold because it has really cool extra features that help with running the shop. but for streaming services? im going to be so honest. both to save money and with how cheeky streaming companies (in a bad way) have been getting… you can find whatever you want to watch online for free

if you need to use anything from the microsoft office suite, but youre not required by youre job to specifically use microsoft, libreoffice is a free alternative that i actually like better. its what i use to help willow run their shop and its free

for art programs. if you still have photoshop switch. not just for money reasons. adobe is getting bold with what they can claim as their content and use from what people produce in their program. the switch isnt the easiest but there are a bunch of alternatives. some free some like csp offer one time licenses which are so much better than subscriptions. will has spent almost $2k on photoshop and after effects from using it as long as they have. when csp is $50 and they like csp better anyways. i also know of krita and fire alpaca which are free

⭐️ also theres stuff about being an adult that i thought you had to pay for but you dont? like for car insurance i went through an independent insurance agent and they found me a cheaper plan than i could find myself. i didnt pay the guy. they get a cut from the insurance company for finding them another customer. some banks or credit cards offer financial advising sessions to users. its boring but if you can get a copy of your health insurance see if they have any free shit on there thats available for you. my brother gets free doctor finding? like i can call them, tell them what specialist he needs and instead of me calling around to find one that can take him, they connect me with someone. my work offers 3 free therapy sessions (better than nothing) and free food that i take advantage of

⭐️ i think one of the biggest things that makes an impact for us is researching before buying stuff. sounds like a no brainer but you dont just want to find the cheapest deal. you want to find the best bargain, the best bang for your buck. whats the best quality thing you can get that you can also afford? itll prevent your from having to replace stuff all the time and by extension spending more than you need to. we have nonstick pots and pans that are scratched and starting to peel (which apparently can cause cancer??) that were cheap because of being on sale. now after looking into what makes quality cookware i know i should of just slowly bought stainless steel

⭐️ last big one. credit cards. unfortunately we need them so find one with a low apr and that offers decent cash back. use it up to like 20% of your limit and pay it off every month. focus on using it on things that will get you cash back so you can essentially get free money

im sure i could ramble more but this is already super long

[bkblaise]

I'm dumb as hell, so can you explain me why JPtwt is so pressed about Manga leaks?

I mean, I have heard that those who leak spoilers earn some money out of it, so does this money come out of the Mangaka's pocket? If yes, then I'm against it. If not, then what's the big deal? I think there are many bigger issues than this to focus on.

Further, spoilers come weekly, I guess? That too, in Japanese language, so it's the same amount of time as the official release of a chapter—you getting me?

Hi there! Sorry the response is so long. Basically, JPtwt considers leaks ("hayabare") as a crime (it is), engaging with them is something they find extremely distasteful. Not sure why the reaction is so strong, but it is. Maybe it's being protective over manga bcs it's a big industry nationally. However me being Korean, a LOT of people pirate manhwa... so... (though manhwa is generally not as big so the gripe is spoilers & not leaks.) It's upsetting in my opinion specifically because of the fact that the spoilers themselves only come out like 2 days earlier, but, this time it came out on a Friday when they were originally on Mondays (officials come out on Wednesday. But a long time ago, I heard these came out on Fridays and in Korean? Lol. I wasn't there.) Most of the people who were targeted including myself are artists. This is the source of my gripe with this callout/block list, because we never reposted the official copyrighted material in the first place, so bombarding us with blocks and possibly getting our accounts locked when there are people who rely on commissions and a platform to gain said commissions/communicate with commissioners, for instance, is a bit... odd? They could mute us instead... Yes, there are also plenty of people posting the official panels as well, and I get their frustration. But a Japanese twitter user put it well, saying something along the lines of "these users were all also forced to see leaks just like you, except they're not being [immature] about it". In my opinion if I could disengage with leaks regarding manga I would, since this was my policy up until me getting super excited about Kaiser's backstory specifically. I previously did not post about leaks on twitter. The issue is the people posting the original leaks, but they didn't even put them front and center, which I just found confusing. I think technically since English has (online?) simurelease with Japan, it can affect sales. By how much, I'm not sure, because Twitter isn't a real good gauge of just HOW many people see the leaks (a user called Rayuga is the main one as far as I know, and their main has like 90k+ followers, so I'd imagine their reach is still above that follow count... but it also can be less, because twitter is twitter.) I apologize if this is already common knowledge because before joining twitter, I mainly got my leaks from Reddit without considering the source. Scanlations (A group called PO2? is currently scanlating Blue Lock) also probably has the same effect, which when I was in Scans, in my group we had a hard rule that an English official copy being released would warrant us to drop a series so that the author would receive fair support. So not doing that when there is an english copy, is probably damaging. I never checked if PO2 takes donations or have a Patreon or anything like that, which from my time in scans is GENERALLY looked down upon internally within the community. If they do, this is something that I wouldn't really condone openly, specifically because it's still unauthorized redistribution. Attempting to profit off of that usually is because sometimes scan groups will pay their staff. Me, personally, I always worked for free. But if they don't, then I have nothing to say. I don't think people who would have not bought the chapter even if that was their only option would've ever contributed to sales in the first place, right? So it depends. In conclusion, I'm sure there are losses. But it's hard to gauge by how much, so I simply listed all the possible factors for you to judge by yourself.

[frikatilhi]

Jere keeps asking/informing Bojan about his OF ideas, sending different pictures and videos to get opinion if this is still fine or already too much. Meanwhile Bojan is sweating, jumping at every message ping and checking them while hidden in a corner, to the point that it pisses off everyone else in the studio. He can't say not to send them to Jere but can't ignore them either because the phone is burning a hole in his pocket.

Anon, I think you just wrote your own fic, this is perfect.

I got several prompts about Bojan's reaction to the OF, so here's a little something about that.

Bojan can’t believe it has come to this.

It used to be that musicians would make a living selling records and performing live. Nowadays you need to sell tons of merch to even break even, have an online presence and be accessible to your fans and be relatable and funny and flirt with your bandmates to keep them guessing and keep generating fucking content, all the time.

But he wasn’t aware that the hustle included Onlyfans now too, apparently.

Bojan can appreciate Jere trying to make the most of his success and fame. He has clearly done some Scarlett O’Hara type “I shall never go hungry again!” pact with himself, determined to strike while the iron is hot, and make up for his meager earnings by any means possible.

It is none of his business how Jere chooses to make his money. If posting cheeky little skits with Häärijä is going to make people throw their money at him, who is he to judge.

So there really is no problem for Bojan. 

The only problem is that he is lying awake, 1 am Slovenian time on December 1st, knowing full well that the first post of the calendar has been live for two hours.

It’s probably nothing too risque, anyway, he reasons. He has watched those two idiots film their stupid skits enough times to know that they like to joke around, shitposting their way through life. It’s probably just them in santa hats doing… the stuff they always do. Maybe a little suggestive, but nothing actually pornographic. 

But also, knowing those two, knowing what they truly are capable of, he wouldn’t put anything past them.

So of course he is curious. Who wouldn’t be?

He can’t just ask Jere. He just can’t. He’s been trying for days to craft a message that would convey the exact joking, teasing nonchalance that would make Jere share the stuff with him without him asking directly. But everything he comes up with is too transparent. Asking Jere would mean admitting that he wants to know. And Jere can’t know how much he wants to know. 

He also can’t join Onlyfans. He just can’t. Because that would mean… Too many things. Things Bojan is really not ready to prod or poke at.

It would also be totally icky. Watching Jere in… situations without him knowing that Bojan is watching, even though he is clearly okay with anyone and everyone seeing it, feels somehow wrong. If he can’t man up and talk to Jere and tell him how much he wants to see him naked, what right does he have to sneak around and pay money for it?

But also, he really, really wants to see what’s there.

So you can see his dilemma.

He holds off for two days. But then the online reaction to the newest one reaches him, and he sees a mention of the socks. It is the opening he needs. He taps a text.

me Watafak is this I hear about Joker Out socks making an appearance on OF???

Jere Did you like it?

me I haven’t seen it jesus christ

Jere No just us, Käärijä and Häärijä 😝

Jere You not subscribe? 😥

me Wtf you mean, of course not ☠️

Jere Bojan poor 🙁 🙁 

Jere Wait

In a minute, Bojan’s phone dings as a sign of a new email. The pop-up notification shows the beginning of the subject line:. You have been gifted a subscription to–

me You didn’t.

Jere This one on me! 😊

Jere And Boju…

Jere Tell me what you think after you watch 🤭😘😉

*

(okay sorry for ending it there, I know you wanted his reaction to the actual videos, but I don’t think I have it in me to write about him looking at those apron strings hanging between his buttocks and him imagining picking them up with his teeth, I am already hanging by a thread here)

[pxayopina-unilsiyu]

Credit art when you use it. It isn't hard.

Since some of you on Tumblr, especially in the Avatar fandom, are unfamiliar with art usage etiquette, allow me, an artist, to direct you on what is considered ethical and legal usage of artwork you didn't make.

Credit. Shit. When. You. Use. It.

You do not have an excuse for not doing this, it's incredibly simple. Find the original artist (which you don't need to do if you're taking straight from the source) and credit them either immediately below the artwork or at the end of your post. No hiding credit in the tags.

"Credit to artist" IS NOT CREDIT.

Nor is any variation of it such as "not created by me" or "credit to [random pinterest account]. Credit is specific and direct. You do not see "credit to visual effects artists" in the end credits of a film. You see names. Online, you should always credit someone's social media handle.

But I can't find credit!

Then do not use it. It's literally that simple. Don't know who made it? Either make an effort to find out or leave it alone.

If an artist says not to use something in a certain way, DO NOT USE IT THAT WAY.

Always check people's bios, watermarks, etc. to see if they list their terms of use for the art. If you're unsure, message them directly. "Do not repost" means DO NOT REPOST. "Do not use" means DO NOT USE, FOR ANYTHING.

People pay money for art, you know.

The art you carelessly download and use for your fics or roleplays could very well have costed upwards of hundreds of dollars. Ask yourself how fair it is for you to take it and use it willy nilly without paying, whereas the commissioner paid their hard-earned money to have it created. It isn't fair at all.

Other people's original characters are not yours.

Not everyone is okay with their original characters' likenesses being adopted for your own. Original characters can be extremely special and personal, it can be insulting and heartbreaking for their likenesses to be stolen and assigned to completely different characters. Ask yourself how that shit would make you feel. I can tell you first-hand it doesn't feel great.

But Pinterest--

Pinterest and other repost sites are plagues to artists, just don't use them for sourcing art.

Who cares? If they posted it online then it's free to use!

The law cares, and no, that isn't true. Art created by human hands has automatic copyright given to it. It is against copyright law to use artwork made by others in a way they have not permitted. Yes, fair use exists, but fair use is not a get-out-of-jail free card to use whatever material you find online. To be protected by fair use, your use of copyrighted material has to be transformative for the purposes of commentary, demonstration, or parody. Grabbing art off the internet to use for fics or roleplay is none of those things. It does not apply.

Are artists gonna sue you for using our art? Probably not, because we're all broke ass bitches who can't afford lawyers, but this is like, common decency, yo. Also, we can file DMCA takedowns against your posts / accounts for using our art without authorization, and guess what happens if you rack up enough of those?

Just ask!

If you really want to use a piece of art, consider just... reaching out and asking the artist who made it if it's okay to use noncommercially and with credit. A lot of the time, the act of reaching out and getting permission puts you in our good favor. A lot of the time, the answer will be yes. Just ask. We won't bite your head off. Just be willing to take "no" for an answer.

Thanks and have a sexy day

[myobsessionsspace]

“If it was me I’d…”

“I don’t understand why he just doesn’t…”

“why doesn’t he say/do…” “It’s not enough they should…”

“This person has it so easy…”

Do we understand the members are between the ages of 25 years of age and the oldest is 31?

Do we understand their only JOB is to make music, fulfil their contractual obligations to their company?

Do we understand that they still have to work for the next 10, 20, 30, 40 years? They can’t just up and quit. They have WAGES, as much as we would like to think, money doesn’t go directly from your PayPal to the members accounts.

Fans money doesn’t go directly to the idol. It goes from the company. We’ve seen idols who have been in the game for decades (nationally known and lesser known but still known internationally) struggling with their company to even get a look at the figures of how much they’ve earned in their time working. They don’t even know how much money they’ve earned! They have gone months without pay from their companies, yet still working and producing content their fans see. Yet still having albums sold, merch sold, tickets sold, fan support.

Even the most popular, richest western celebrity still works when they don’t ‘have to.’

Why? Because they look after other households, family? Because money gets spent, the more money you have the more you spend? Because what else would they do? They still have a passion, a need to be engaged, work, be occupied.

Do we understand they are watched by MILLIONS all over the world, they every move photographed, discussed online, on the news, by the water cooler.

Do we understand that unlike the regular everyday person, someone wouldn’t know your cats name, your hometown, your high school unless you told them, there are actually personal security questions because it shouldn’t be that well known. Yet with the members we can find out nearly anything about them, their pets, their families etc. where is their safe zone??

They have become more than singers, not by their choice, it has been thrust upon them.

They have become presidential special envoys, exposition ambassadors, they speak against hate and discrimination in foreign countries, at the White House, the speak of love in all its different forms at the United Nations. They have had soo much weight put in their shoulders, more than any of us could ever dream of AT ANY AGE.

We hated our high school haircuts, we delete the pictures off of Facebook, we hide the years books.

Don’t wanna speak at an event, don’t have to, or if we do only those present may know about it, maybe LinkedIn or the company site etc, still insular, not international news.

Wanna quit your job, lie on your resume, you are more likely to get away with it, than the members.

Any company they chose to go to, if they ever wanted to, would know EVERYTHING about them, what they accepted in the past, what they would and wouldn’t do at a company.

Cheated on your ex, there are ways your current may never find out. Not the members, they can’t even be on the same street with someone without it being brought back every 5-10 business days. Can’t be in the same event without close up analyses and theories that they blinked too long near someone. Nothing stays in the past for them. Old differences/hurts brought up 7 years later. Millions of people who can’t even speak the same language as them dictating who they can have in their home, go to eat with, watch movies with, though they’ve NEVER set foot in their country before.

Fans wishes cannot be directly implemented by the idol. Idols don’t call the shots. The wildest things they can do are live everyday human lives. The most autonomy, ‘rebellion’ they can have is switch on an unscheduled live or *gasp* date (what are they 13??).

It’s A LOT. We need to catch ourselves. The pressure on them is already immense.

As fans we should be their support, their comfort, their safe zone.

Not another group of people telling them where to look, how to breathe, what to say.

Give them understanding, give them the benefit. Let them act in the ways they can, we don’t know everything. We don’t know we could do ANY DIFFERENT in their shoes.

🖤🤍

[gyuscoquetteribbon]

svt headcanons (crimes they'd be arrested for)

-> warnings: not anything in particular! It's pretty lighthearted <3

-> a/n: this is my first post ayyyy I've been wanting to get back into writing after my two year break and yeah :3 thought I'd just start with something light ig. my asks are open so you can send headcannon ideas !! id love to write about them !!

Seungcheol:

money laundering.

except its probably fake news and he was only suspected because people don't understand how bro is adorned in designer wear from head to toe even though he earns millions every year

Jeonghan:

online fraud.

definitely would try to sell severely damaged products online just to get rid of them and you can't even get spare parts to repair them because they're eons old

Joshua:

shoplifting.

i just know bro is SICK and TIRED of not being able to pay using card at certain stores in other countries so one day he just snaps and decides to throw whatever he needs into his bag and leave (he obviously fails at it)

Jun:

damage to public property.

he broke the bars that were meant for kids to hang onto.

Hoshi:

trespassing.

idk he just looks like he'd find a way into places even if there's barbed wires surrounding the area. its the furry in him.

also for speeding.

Wonwoo:

idk the term for it but illegal attainment of paid products from video games.

like bro definitely tried to cheat the system and sent a mail to the game services saying he paid for the weapons or whatever in whatever game he fancies even though he never paid for it just so he could have it for free (he was obviously caught)

Woozi:

cutie patootie could never do anything wrong 💗 (Physical assault except those claims were false. a passerby just happened to see him chase one of his fellow members ((mingyu)) with a guitar and thought he was gonna beat em up)

The8:

the government is scared of him.

Mingyu:

for not carrying his driver's license.

bro's luck is saur bad sometimes i just know he'd get pulled over on a day where he DOESNT have his driver's license with him.

Dk:

accidental tax evasion 😭

this applies for hoshi too. i can just picture them both seeing woozi filling out important documents and they ask him about it and woozi just mumbles 'paying my taxes' and these 2 adorable fools go 'WAIT OH MY GOD ITS TIME TO PAY TAXES ALREADY?????' and they're panicking and running around bc they do NOT wanna be shakira-fied

Seungkwan:

public nuisance 💔

all he did was argue with the bus driver for driving past his stop without even waiting long enough for him to get out of the bus (i'll personally get him out of jail)

Vernon:

i think he'd somehow manage to be a prime suspect for a crime that he did not even commit.

or illegal possession of weed in his car idk

Dino:

for being a part of a cult.

i just know he'd accidentally find himself in a cult and doesn't know how to get out of it without being their next sacrifice

[ezziefox]

Do you know what I wish for in life?

I've always been an artsy person. I love all art, including performing arts.

Digital Art

I feel like I only draw good whenever I have references instead of drawing off the top of my head. I've read quite a few webtoons and they especially, similarly to how I got into writing, make me want to learn how to draw comics and whatnot. I'd especially love to learn how to draw really good and off the top of my head so that I can create unique book covers for my books instead of resorting to images readily available online (like from Pinterest) and minimal styles to choose from because I'm no professional nor do I have money to pay anyone to do cover art and design for me. Though I'd say I'm quite good at my cover designing myself.

Acting

I've always found acting interesting, even though I've never done it. I'd still want to try it. There was even a point in time when I wanted to be an actress before I decided writing would be my ultimate path. I still am interested in acting and would love to try it tho. There's nothing wrong with being a person of multitude.

Dancing

I've always loved dancing, but I'm not a professional dancer. I would love to take professional lessons, but that's not in the cards for me and my parents definitely wouldn't pay for it. But I remember the days (back before I moved houses and still had space in my room, now I have barely any to even walk), I would replay a bunch of dancing choreography videos and learn frame by frame.

Singing

I love singing. I always did it when I could, but now that I'm in a house with a bunch of people and rooms right next to mine, I can't exactly do it anymore like that — belting out and stuff lol. Loved it tho.

Writing

Writing especially is my favorite. It's my go-to. It's my life. I could stay here for days and tell you all about my journey in writing and my hopes and my dreams, but I don't want to keep this post long.

So either way, I just wanted to make this post to make my dreams and goals clear. Whether someone finds and reads this or not, oh well.

I want to become an author. I want to finally be able to finish a book and publish it. I want my book to be popular, and earn money from it.

But unfortunately, if you've seen my last posts, I had to put writing on a pause. I wish I didn't have to, but if I'm gonna get through this year without fighting too much, I have to put it away. And it still pains me to do so.

Either way, I wish for nothing but me in my own house, writing and undistracted and undisturbed by anything or anyone around me. I have too much going on in my life rn to write while being completely focused like I used to be. People bother me every second of the day but let me not get into that. I'd rather not ruin my okay mood rn.

Anywho, that's me ig. Goodnight to you!

[anexperimentallife]

This "if you don't brag about it online, it didn't happen" culture is so weird. I regularly get people accusing me of doing nothing but posting my thoughts online and not actually helping anyone, and it's like...

Dude, I'm not gonna go online and brag and post pictures every time I donate supplies or money, give someone food or a place to stay, serve as a sympathetic ear, help another adult escape their abusive family, encourage someone through a bad situation, stay on the phone with someone when they just need a human voice, let someone ahead of me at the store, overtip a tired server, stand up when someone's being bullied, or do some other random act of kindness. Posting "proof" of all that shit would just feel weird to me. And pointless. The point isn't to show off; the point is that we're all in this together, and everybody should be pitching in to make things better for all of us. It should just be the standard.

I literally owe my life to people who helped me in hard times with no thought of reward--often when I didn't deserve the help. Hell, when our family was in danger of forced separation because paperwork errors wouldn't let our daughter travel with us, y'all pitched in to pay for getting it straightened out.

(Not to mention that even if all I did was post, posting thoughts online can be helpful--a lot of people have posted things that have been helpful to me, and a lot of folks have thanked me for things I've posted, saying my words helped them.)

I mean, I get the theory that posting about ways you've helped people might inspire others to do more good, so I'm not gonna say everyone who does it is seeking glory, but that's just not the way I roll. I don't even like being acknowledged for stuff like that. It all just comes under the heading of doing my job as a human being. Because if we're not taking care of each other, what's the point of anything?

If I could help out completely anonymously, so that not even the people I'm helping knew it was me, that's what I'd do. Not because I'm some saint, but just because a) the attention embarrasses me, and b) I don't want anyone to feel embarrassed or lesser for accepting help.

Honestly, I'd like to do more. But I'm autistic, disabled (spine, joint, and soft tissue inuries, severe arthritis, a traumatic brain injury that affects my memory and focus, and then there are the brain and body effects of long covid on top of that), have adhd, had covid three times, almost died of illness three times in the past five years (once from double pneumonia with secondary lung infections, and twice from covid, which also left me with a two-year foot infection that ended up requiring surgery to get rid of), and other issues, am about 15K USD in debt (from the issue with our daughter), PLUS I'm raising a toddler and supporting two other adults on a fixed income (and still need to somehow come up with around thirty thousand dollars for needed surgeries and scans and dental work and other treatments that got put off because of the aforementioned issue with our daughter), so yeah, there's only so much I can do.

But it's not "nothing." (And I'll allow myself a little bit of chest-puffing by saying it's probably more than most of the people who accuse me of doing nothing do.)

So yeah... "all you do is post online instead of helping people." Oh, you mean because I don't... what, make people "earn" my help by posing for embarrassing pictures or videos, or giving testimonials about how grateful they are? LMAO what a sad, mean, tiny, drab little world you must live in where no one helps anyone without bragging to the world about it.

(Hell, I'll probably delete this later, because tbh this little rant feels a little too much like bragging to me, but I needed to vent.)

[salty-professor]

The Big Grift

There is growing concern about student loan debt in America. It is a real concern. We should be fucking concerned. The current number being bandied about is 1.7 trillion dollars. Yeah. With a fucking T. Which rhymes with B which stands for bullshit.

It isn’t bullshit that this is the amount of money that is owed. That is the reported number. I believe it. I believe in math. However, it is hard to know exactly how much of that money is interest and how many people who racked up that debt actually earned a degree. We do know that students who don’t graduate end up defaulting on the student loans at triple the rate of those who did graduate AND we know that unless you die, student debt is forever.

You could take out billions in loans and default, declare bankruptcy, fuck all the small businesses who did the work for you and only pay them pennies on the dollars they are owed even though they paid their employees the full amount, walk away, and then do it over and over again. And again. And AGAIN. AND you could be rewarded for all of that by becoming the president. BUT, if you take out 20K in student loans for a degree you didn’t earn, you will have to have your wages garnished, your tax returned seized, all while the interest racks up and that 20K becomes 50 or 60 in no time.

I do think that people who take out loans should pay them back. I do. I think if you take out loans for a business, or for a degree, you owe that money back. I am OK with that. There is some nuance to it thought and that needs to be considered.

Some of those people who took out loans for degrees they didn’t earn, actually didn’t even go to class and yet, they still owe the money. That is like applying for a car loan but you never finalize the loan, sign your name, or pick it up from the dealership but still somehow you owe the money even though they sold that car to someone else.

When I first started teaching, professors could, have students removed from classes if they didn’t participate after two consecutive weeks. Now, the rule is, and this is a federal rule, not just the rule at my school, if the student doesn’t participate in week one, the student is dropped. There is no financial aid distributed and it is a no harm no foul situation.

However, if the student shows up and naps in the back row of class OR posts one word to one discussion in an online course, that student is “active” and is enrolled for the rest of the term. The money is distributed and that is that. Even if the student never shows up again, the student can’t be dropped.

It is different if a student shows up for half the classes, doesn’t put in effort and doesn’t pass. That is an object lesson. The student needed to get kicked in the wallet on that one. However, if I student ghosts after day one, the student isn’t really enrolled in the class and the money should be returned. We are not required to marry the people we ghost after one bad date, so why do we make sure the student suffers this pain?

It could be that the student is scamming the system by collecting student loan checks for two years and fucking off with the money without knowing that the money will be owed back no matter what. Some students do get cost of living loans and some students get refunds. I get it. Some of them steal. That is a scam. Fuck those fuckers. Still, it is more likely that the student assumed by not showing up, there would be a drop and so the student didn't do anything. If you stopped showing up to work, you would expect to be fired. Same principle here.

The real insidious thing about it is that the schools collect the money but don’t have to do any of the work and THAT is the main reason why this law isn’t changing. Colleges and universities rake in tons of money from the federal government in financial aid. Some schools survive on tuition money alone. If they drop a student who quit attending after one third of the class was complete and had to give back 66 percent of the money, that would be bad for bottom lines. So, instead of doing the ethical thing, they do nothing. Fucking NOTHING.

Last term I had six students who didn’t pass the course. Five of them submitted two assignments total. One of them only submitted one. The college collected that money and even though I’ve pushed and begged to have the students dropped, I was told, “not to get too worked up about it.”

Really? Fuck you. Fuck that. I am worked up about it because in 10 years, that student is going to plan on using a tax refund for something, but there will be no joy at that person’s house, because that money will be taken to repay for a class, he probably thought he dropped. AND if he wants to take out a loan to help cover the costs of anything, or buy a car, or a house, that will not happen because his credit is ruined.

Education should not be a fucking business built on the back of predatory loans.

It is a fucking right.

 FUCK!

[asena-graywolf]

Full Time Cleaner

You checked the location on your phone as you walked down the street. And then to the skyscraper apartment in front of it. The location indicated here. You were sure you came to the right place.

You've been looking for a full-time job for the last 2 months. You did not leave any advertisements that you did not mix on the Internet and in the newspapers. None of them had a job for you. Until I found a part-time job posting online. Nothing came of the full-time job postings. You wanted to try your luck in the ad you saw.

There was a young man looking for a part-time cleaner for his house. Although the male host made you a little uneasy, you needed the money and wanted to seize the opportunity.

You called the contact number at the bottom of the job posting and said you wanted to meet as soon as possible. The young boy you spoke to on the phone gave you the location of his house and made an appointment for 1:00 pm tomorrow.

It was apartment number 43 on the 12th floor. You knocked on the door. You heard footsteps coming from inside. The door opened and a handsome face than you expected greeted you.

"Hello. We met yesterday. I came for your job posting”

"Really? Oh yes, I remember. Come on in"

He opened the door for you. You took off your shoes and entered the house. The apartment wasn't very big, but it was still a decent place.

While you were looking around, the young man asked you

“First of all, I want to know your name. What is your name?"

“Y/N”

"How old are you? Are you student?"

"No. I'm 24 years old. I have just graduated and am looking for a temporary job that will keep me going for a while.”

"I understand. I'm Kenma. Kenma Kozume”

He extended his hand to you. Hesitantly, squeeze his hand softly. He was more handsome than he thought. Your heart was involuntarily beating faster the more I looked at his face.

“Okay Y/N. If it fits your schedule, I want you to work full time for me."

It was surprising for you to get a full-time job offer when you went for a part-time job interview.

“Oh well… Sure, Kenma-san. Of course I will work"

“I'll pay you twice the price. Including the weekend. Do you accept?"

Without thinking, you accepted the offer. You applied for many job interviews, but none of them were offered such an offer.

“Just call me Kenma. All right, if we're in agreement, be here by 8:00 tomorrow morning. I won't be home. I'll leave your fee in the envelope on the table. You'll get it when you're done"

"I want to ask something. How do we create a full-time study schedule? What time are you at home?"

“I will prepare a program for you by tomorrow. I will list what you need to do. I'm usually not at home between 08:00-17:00. There are exceptional cases every 2-3 days. It can take me to come home by 21:00. If something like that happens, I'll let you know."

"Ok. Then see you tomorrow”

"Congratulations for your new job. Good bye"

You returned home delighted. You had a job, even if it wasn't highly paid, and you could now earn your own income.

Kenma's handsome face flashed before him as he went to bed at night and closed his eyes. You've never met such a handsome employer before. But right now you should be focusing on your work tomorrow. It was important for you to create a positive image in the eyes of your employer from day one.

You were at her house the next morning at the time Kenma said. He was leaving the house with his bag on his back.

“Good morning Y/N. The list of things to do hangs in the fridge. Your fee is in the envelope on the table, as I said yesterday. The spare key is buried in the flower pot in front of the door, in case anything happens. Try to finish your work before 5 pm. Good luck with"

“I will do my best, Kenma. I hope you will be satisfied with my performance. Have a nice day"

You entered the house and took a deep breath to get started. Take off your coat and hang it on the hanger

“Yeah…here we go” you said to yourself

Your first stop was the kitchen. Kenma had already made a list of things to do and hung it on the fridge. You took the list and read what was written

• Water my flowers

•Change my bed sheets

•Mixing the nightstand drawers

•Feed the cat

You were a little surprised at the article about feeding the cat. Because you didn't see a cat or anything when you came to this house yesterday.

Startled when you felt something rubbing against your ankles

"Ah! Oh my God! Cute thing!"

When you looked at your feet, you saw a cute black cat brushing against you. Apparently the owner was a cat lover

Kenma’s cat seemed to like you already too. You bent down and patted your head. He meowed at you and purred as you stroked him and rubbed against you again.

You returned to reading the paper and continued reading the other articles.

• After feeding the cat, close it in the living room so that it does not run under its feet. Or you'll get in trouble

•Change the cat's litter

•Don't touch game cds while cleaning my desk. I arranged them in alphabetical order.

•My laundry is in the dirty basket in the bathroom. Handle them too

•That is all. You already know what to do behind

In large letters at the bottom of the paper

He wrote “Good Luck” and drew a smiley face next to it.

"Ugh! It's like he's kidding me! How can all this work be finished before 5 pm?”

When you looked around, you saw that the house had a lot of work. Kenma has put all the work that will not be completed in almost a day on your head. It didn't seem like all the work would be finished before 5 pm. But you had to start somewhere

You rolled up your sleeves and got to work. You fed the cat first and then locked it in the living room. Then you cleaned the cat's litter. After you've done all the work Kenma wrote on the list, you set about doing the rest.

You threw Kenma's dirty laundry in the machine. You did not dare to touch them one by one. That's why you gathered the laundry in piles as much as possible, threw it in the machine and started it.

You went into the kitchen. You put all the dishes in the machine. You were disgusted by the tons of oil and dirt residue drying on the counter. You wiped the counter, stove and aspirator with a strong detergent

It was time to vacuum all the rooms in the house. You bought the vacuum cleaner and cleaned the dirt by pressing the vacuum cleaner on all the carpets. There were strands of yellow and black hair on each corner of the walls. Apparently, Kenma's hair was falling out like a shed dog.

After you're done vacuuming, you mop it up.

You also washed the bathroom and toilet with bleach. The stinking bathroom now smelt clean. The surrounding was shining.

You have finished the kitchen, hall, bathroom and living room. The only thing you didn't enter was Kenma's bedroom. As soon as you entered, you thought that a tornado was running through the room. It’s from here to sunday

“Jeez, what a mess! Dowdy!" you said to yourself

Judging by the state of the room, Kenma was indeed the forerunner of the scruffy. He threw everything he ate and drank in the corner of the room. His belongings were lying around. Overlaid Coke glasses and more.

You didn't even want to touch this room. You had to give your money's worth. So you had to put up with Kenma's mess

You started to clean from somewhere. You changed your sheets. You made your bed. You collected the packages of junk food that he scattered around and threw them in the trash. You opened the windows and vented. Didn't it occur to you to open the window of his room and air it out? How could he survive in this extremely stuffy room? You couldn't understand

As he continued to tidy the room, the mug next to his computer caught his attention. Take it and look at it. On the small plaque on it was written “Nekoma High School Volleyball Team Provincial Championship”.

She played on her employer's high school volleyball team. It seemed a little cool to you. He was too handsome to be a volleyball player

As you wiped your computer's keyboard, you looked at the devices around you. Judging by the microphones and other equipment, he was not just a gamer but a Youtuber. You wanted to subscribe to the youtube channel. The first thing you would do when you get home would be to watch Kenma's Youtube videos.

You checked the time on your cell phone. It was showing 15.30. Kenma would be home in less than 2 hours. There wasn't much left for you to do anyway. You were going to take out the laundry and hang it up and vacuum Kenma's room and finally dust the windows and finish for the day.

You finished the rest of the work at the speed of light. Kenma had placed the envelope full of money on the kitchen table as she told you yesterday. You took the envelope, put it in your bag, and looked around for the last time before you left, even though there was something missing.

Nothing seemed to be missing. You took your coat from the hanger where you hung it, put it on, and left the house after completing your work for the day.

You walked towards the bus stop. Luckily, the bus arrived right away. You got on and made your way home. You took the seat you found empty. You put on your headphones and turn on your favorite song and start listening.

It was the only thing that would be good for the tiredness of the day.

Several days passed with the same routine work. You were cleaning Kenma's house every day, including the weekend. More precisely, he was distributing, you were cleaning. Because when the next day came, there was no trace of the house that you cleaned and sparkled yesterday.

Kenma seemed quite pleased with you. He would send you a thank you message when he got home in the evening after every cleaning. In this way, your intimacy had improved and you were now sincere enough to be friends.

And one day you got a different message from Kenma than usual

“Y/N…I will ask you something”

“Yes Kenma?”

“I'm not going anywhere tomorrow. You don't have to come for cleaning. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

“Is it at your house?”

"Yes. If you don't want, we can eat outside. What do you say?"

Kenma's offer was very kind and you knew you couldn't turn down that kind offer.

"Sure. No problem. We'll have dinner at your house"

"Wonderful! I'll be waiting for you tomorrow at 19:00. See you later. Goodnight"

"To you too"

-----------------------------------------------------------------

It will continue in Part 2…

[cocklessboy]

Wow, a couple of my posts have got popular recently. Hello, new people! I'm an autistic trans man with ADHD, a diverse array of other health issues and disabilities, and no money! 😘 This is a sideblog so you won't get any follows or comments from this url, but I appreciate you for being here. I figure I'd better make a pinned post since a lot of the same things come up frequently in replies and I might save some folks some time:

I'm not in the US. I am from there but I've lived in central Europe for over 15 years now. A lot of stuff is different here. I know a lot of folks reading this blog are in the US or UK and a lot of folks try to make suggestions for some of the troubles I have but 99% of the time it's something that's ubiquitous in the US or UK but straight-up not available here whatsoever. I appreciate the intent, but if you see a really simple, easy solution to a problem I post on here, odds are I've thought of it, I've investigated it, I've tried it, and it's either not available or it doesn't work for me for one reason or another.

Things that aren't available here include air conditioners, box fans, square hepa filters, most dating apps (in fact most apps in general), a lot of streaming services, many types/brands of medication and types of medical equipment that are super common in other countries, Amazon (seriously), Etsy, and a lot of other online shopping sites, a truly incredible number of food and drink items (especially processed or pre-made ones), and most social groups/clubs/events (at least ones accessible to an English speaker). (And much, much more!)

I have a lot of medical issues which I sometimes write about here. I don't necessarily explain everything in every post because that would mean writing a novel every time, but since people keep asking, yes, I know what EDS is, yes, I know what MCAS is, yes, I am investigating these possibilities along with many others with my doctors, but it is an obscenely slow process. This country has a serious lack of specialists in a lot of conditions that are lesser-known or which have only been properly understood in recent years. Overall the medical system here is quite good and I can go to almost any doctor and get almost any of the medications available in this country without paying anything, but that comes at the cost of a language barrier and a lot of outdated diagnostic standards for particular conditions like autism, ADHD, and the aforementioned EDS and MCAS. In short, I'm working on it, but my options are limited and the process is slow.

The disability system is also different here. I know the system in the US is horrific and my heart goes out to everyone struggling to survive in it. Fortunately it is better here. It's a very long, slow process to get approved (mainly because you have to get a pretty significant paper trail first, and the lack of specialists means it can take months to get appointments), but approval is based mostly on the recommendations of doctors, the amount you get is calculated based on your income and how much working capacity you have lost, and it does not carry restrictions on how much money you are allowed to earn or have at any time. I am currently in the process of trying to get some benefits but it is likely to take another year if not longer.

If other stuff starts coming up frequently in comments and replies, I'll add answers here. For now, thanks for reading what I have to share and for the kind words (and kind attempts to help) that many of you have left me. I hope that what I write is helpful to some of you. It's hard to find time and energy to write a lot at the moment, but I will try to post more, since it's clear that a lot of people relate and are looking for more of what I have to share.

Take care of yourselves.

[classicquid]

Short Term Loans UK: A Different Way to Earn Reasonably

With the possibility of short term loans UK, getting quick financial support without having a debit card is always simple. These loans are offered seven days a week, 24 hours a day. Additionally, it is now much easier to apply for short term loans online, day or night, anywhere. You must look online in advance to find a suitable lender in order to make an immediate selection.

To receive financial assistance through short term loans UK, you must fulfill the following numbered common terms and conditions:"- You ought to have been employed consistently for longer than three months. You ought to have had a regular bank account for longer than ninety days. I believe you are older than eighteen.

Throughout your job, your monthly income must be at least £750. Your entire salary is routinely deposited by direct deposit into your bank account.

You are currently free to apply for short term loans UK based on your needs and circumstances. These financial instruments offer flexible terms for cash reimbursement along with low interest rates. Furthermore, you are worthy of taking out a loan between £100 and £1,000 without offering the lender any asset as security for the money. The money must be returned within a two to four week timeframe.

The best part is that you can use the money for anything you need to pay for, including medical bills, electricity bills, groceries bills, child care or education costs, vacation expenditures, unexpected auto repairs, and more. The United Kingdom is home to a diverse population. A portion of them are having trouble with their credit performance. In addition, they are excluded from receiving financial assistance because of risk factors. Be patient! This is where you may apply without any hassles for a short term loans UK direct lender. The lack of credit verification is the root cause of it. Consequently, you are also eligible for the loan mentioned above even when you have adverse credit characteristics like defaults, arrears, foreclosure, late or missed payments, CCJs, IVAs, or bankruptcy indicated against you. These days you may apply for short term cash loans using a fax less or paperless process and all it takes is a few minutes to fill out an application. Using an online application form, you must provide the lender with all of your personal information. It doesn't take long for the money to be approved and safely deposited into your bank account.

Even if your credit history isn't good enough for a bank loan or credit card, we nevertheless take a human approach to lending with our Payday loan and will always consider your application when evaluating it for a short term loans direct lenders. We won't limit our decision-making to credit scores; instead, we'll consider variables such as income and expenses. You might want to look into some payday loan alternatives if a short term loans UK direct lender doesn't feel like the best option for you. If you can satisfactorily answer all of these questions, you might decide that an emergency loan is the best option for you at this time.

https://classicquid.co.uk/