#ITS MY DUDE!! MY LITTLE GUY WHO HAD A MINUTE OF SCREEN TIME

[kadens-a-bee]

I’ve been staring at the first frame of the new spooky short for like the past 15 minutes cause I’m way too excited to hit play /lh

[seat-safety-switch]

Couple weeks ago, I was watching the evening news when a commercial came on. Usually, I skip those suckers. Change channels. Couldn't do that this time, though, because the television I was watching was in my neighbour's living room. And although the binoculars I was using to look into said living room are exceptionally high-tech, they do not contain a television remote. Always leaving something on the table for the 2.0 version, those fucking scam artists.

Here's what the commercial was: a prayer line. You could dial in and pay nine cents a minute to have a group of folks working in a call centre pray for you. The handsome-yet-celibate dude wearing an insanely expensive suit droned on about something I couldn't hear, but the message was obvious. If I got them to get their god to do my bidding, then maybe I'd be able to win at a salvage auction for once.

The only higher power I believe in is the universe's ability to put its thumb directly on me as soon as I start to get a little smug, almost as if my hubris leads inevitably to a moderately funny downfall. Couldn't hurt to bring in another guy and make them fight.

Thing is, I don't have a phone. Sure, I have a smartphone, everyone does, but it can't make phone calls. Or send data. Or light up more than about half the screen. So I had to help myself to one of the public-use phones at the police station, pretending that I was calling home to my wife to come bring my insurance card. I think the precinct desk clerk was starting to get suspicious around hour two, but she went on break shortly after that and was replaced by someone who I could repeat the same bullshit story to. Four hours in total of god-bothering, I figured, would at least score me a low-mileage Intrepid with subframe damage.

Friends, it did not work. Well, it kind of worked. I ended up with a recent Mercedes luxobarge that was running perfectly well, had low kilometres on the clock, and was immaculate inside and out. Exactly the opposite of what I was looking for. Repulsed, I immediately put it back up for auction and got several thousand worthless dollars of profit, instead of a cool shitbox. That's what you get for trying to mess with the fates.

[macfrog]

ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten

hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.

However.

If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.

Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.

You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.

Can’t have it all, I guess.

Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.

You: Merry Christmas!!!

You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.

You: As in, today’s the day

You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas

You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day

You: Never mind

“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”

You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”

The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.

“Ain’t your dress yellow?”

Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”

“Pink does say rodeo.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”

“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”

“You’re so boring.”

“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”

Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.

“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”

Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”

“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”

“Tell your dad I say hey!”

You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.

“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”

As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.

Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.

“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.

“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”

He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.

Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.

Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.

“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”

You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.

“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.

You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”

“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”

Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.

The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.

“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.

“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.

“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”

“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”

Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”

“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.

“Is he, now?”

“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”

You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.

“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”

Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”

“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.

“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.

----------

Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.

“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”

You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.

Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.

Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.

Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.

You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –

You: Good luck??

He replies almost instantly.

Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?

Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.

Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.

You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?

And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?

Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.

“Another?”

They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.

You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.

“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”

You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.

“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.

“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”

“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.

As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.

“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.

“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.

He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.

“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.

“He smells like he’s having a good night.”

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.

“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”

“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.

“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”

Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”

“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”

“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”

“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”

“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”

Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”

Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.

You: What you doing?

Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?

You: What ya watvhin ?

Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.

You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.

You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please

Bored, horny. It all means the same.

Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.

“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.

Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.

Joel: Outside. No rush.

That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.

“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”

“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”

You nod. “Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”

“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”

She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.

“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.

You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”

“Can he take me home, too?”

Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”

She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.

“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”

Anna pouts. “One more drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.

“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.

“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.

“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”

“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”

“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”

You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”

You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.

Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –

“Who’s that kid?”

“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”

“He give you trouble?”

“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”

Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.

“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”

When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.

His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.

“Want you to take me home.”

“’s go, pretty girl.”

----------

Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.

“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.

He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”

“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”

He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”

“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”

“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”

“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”

Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.

“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.

Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…

“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”

Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.

“That’s Meredith! When she–”

“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”

“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”

“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”

“We can watch it from the beginning.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.

Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”

“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.

“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.

“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.

You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.

You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.

“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.

His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.

He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.

You giggle.

“You laughin’ at me?”

“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”

“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”

“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.

“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”

“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.

He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.

“The cutest.”

“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”

He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.

You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.

And something inside you ticks.

“Joel?”

He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.

“Mhm?”

You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.

He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.

His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.

“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.

“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.

You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.

But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?

Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?

“I…was just wondering…”

“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.

You grow more desperate.

“…wondering what your body count is?”

You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.

“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.

“I wanna know.”

He ignores you.

“Joel,” you moan.

He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”

In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.

“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.

You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.

“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.

He’s hard.

Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.

“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.

“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”

“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”

His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”

“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”

“No?”

“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”

“Funny.” He closes his eyes.

“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”

You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.

“I wanna ride you, daddy.”

This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.

“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”

You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.

You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.

Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.

Well, you’ll be screaming either way.

You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.

“Go on,” he whispers.

Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.

“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.

You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.

Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.

“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”

You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”

“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”

“So just pull out?”

“Nope.”

You sigh, frustrated.

Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.

So, you do.

You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.

“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.

He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.

His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”

You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.

You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.

Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.

He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.

Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.

So, you decide to draw them from him.

You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”

“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”

“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”

You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.

You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.

Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.

“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”

“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”

“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”

Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.

Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.

“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”

That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.

When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.

But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.

“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”

“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”

You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.

You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.

“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”

When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.

Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.

But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand.

His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.

“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.

You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.

The noises slipping out of Joel���s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.

“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.

When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.

You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.

Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.

You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.

“Fuck, darlin’.”

You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”

“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.

You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.

Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.

You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.

You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.

“Feel nice?” he whispers.

You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.

He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.

You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.

“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.

You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.

“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.

You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”

Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.

“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.

“Hm.”

“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.

Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”

“Oh really? What am I, then?”

“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”

You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.

You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.

His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.

“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.

You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”

“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”

Oh.

He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.

He’s telling you because you matter to him.

You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.

----------

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(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

[wonbin-truther]

˚⊹ ᰔೀ dream boyfriend: incoming ˚⊹ ᰔೀ

╰┈➤ mixer pt 2

the mixer was practically full wall to wall with bodies. you had lost soobin within the first few minutes of arriving, although you assumed he was with the baseball team. your sorority sisters had left some time ago, telling you they were going to grab a drink and sit outside. you told them to give you a second to join them, wanting to first finish your bottle of water before you filled your body with liquor. you craned your neck on your tiptoes, trying to peer over the crowd that had inexplicably bunched up near the kitchen entrance.

"the alcohol cant be that good," you mumbled to yourself. stepping back down. you pushed a bit closer until two voices started to become recognizable.

"shut up asshole," the distinct shrill voice of your cousin rang through the air. you froze as another voice shot back at her, although it was somewhat quieter.

"can we please not do this here?" mark pleaded, glanced around at the crowd that had formed. somi scoffed, "so you think you can block me on everything and get away with it? over my dead body," somi scoffed.

"somi plea-" mark was cut off by a stinging pain across his face. the air seemed to still as the loud slap echoed through the party and settled in the whispers of the crowd. mark touched his reddening cheek, staring at the smaller girl in front of him with disbelief.

"i dont want to hear it. this is probably because of those dumbass friends of yours. god i told you to stay away from them. they would only fill your mind with lies and try to get you away from me."

you looked over and watched as jeno extended an arm out in front of haechan who was two seconds away from jumping in.

"anything to say?" somi crossed her arms in front of her body. marks head hung low and you felt a pang in your chest seeing him look so small. with one last disgusted look, somi turned on her heels and walked away.

you watched as his friends rushed to his side, questioning him about whatever just went down. you didnt know if you should walk over or mind your business. mark looked up, suddenly making eye contact with you. your feet started moving before you could even think.

"what’re you pouring," you asked the man standing in front of the counter. he held the labelless bottle of clear liquid in front of you.

"not too sure. wanna test it out?" he smiled. something about him gave you an icky feeling but you pushed it away, excusing it as just lingering feelings over mark and somi.

"sure just a little though," you watched as he grabbed a red cup, pouring the mystery liquid into it. "you're not gonna drink?" you stared at him.

he shook his head, "designated driver for tonight. im just serving the drinks." you hummed, downing the small amount in the red cup. he watched tentatively as you scrunched your face, "ugh definitely tequila."

"you came with anyone?" the guy asked. you didnt realize but he started to inch closer and closer to where you stood. "yea choi soobin. hes number 5 on the baseball team. im just trying to find my sorority sisters," you tapped your phone screen to see if you had any texts from any of the mentioned people.

"i dont see them around."

your fight or flight started to kick in as a hand found its way to your waist. you pushed the man away, "i have a boyfriend."

"i dont see him anywhere here either," the man only got closer to you, leaning closer and closer.

"dude seriously," you tried to back away but your balance felt shaky and your vision was starting to blur.

you shook your head, trying to gain ahold of your senses as the man laughed, taking your wrists into his with a hold youre sure would cause a bruise later.

"hey! what the fuck do you think you're doing with her?" was the last voice you heard before everything faded to black.

previous - main - next

synopsis! it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...

tags! (closed) @haedgaf @onlyhyunjin @mmjhh1998 @nctrawberries @multifandomania @hyuoonp @kittydollzz @bathilda @413ktz @alethea-moon @meowmarkie @urlocalbeaner5 @nanaxwi @lvrholic @sunghoonsgfreal @jakeshuneybby @nosungluv @evilsailorsenshi @calumsfringe @haesungie @tommina @vantxx95 @markeroolee @soobsung @tynlvr @morkiee @sehunniepot @starfilledgaze @pickmedolls @xcosmi @nneteyamss @slayhaechan @neozon3nha @nneteyamss @lionzyon @jakeslucifer @bbina @winwintea

[jeneveuxrein]

needy (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 3.3K

(i'm a bit rusty, lol)

You hear an exaggerated sigh behind you. You ignore it, choosing instead to smirk at your screen as your team continues with its quest. 

Your online friends would call you a complete idiot for not doing what you should be doing versus what you’re actually doing. 

It wasn’t intentional. 

At least on your end, it wasn’t. 

Well, to an extent. 

You shouldn’t be focused on finding this stupid shield Jungkook read about from a gaming article with this new update. 

You should, however, give all of your attention to the woman laying on your bed. 

But it’s not that simple. 

See, the thing is, when you meet someone as famous as Park Chaeyoung, or Rosé, or your favorite Rosie or Chaeng, there are rules you’ve established to make this relationship work.

Rule number one: no one can know unless it’s disclosed to her company. Privacy and all that, not only for her, but for you as well. 

Rule number two: you specifically aren’t allowed to date anyone else. The rule applies to her because you are officially together, like boyfriend-girlfriend kind of together, but she likes having so-called power over you. 

Rule number three: if you’re in each other’s presence, undivided attention is a must. Time is precious for the both of you after all. She has a hectic schedule that takes her all over the world while your line of work has you constantly troubleshooting to make sure everything runs smoothly. 

So it was a surprise when Rosie showed up at your apartment a little before midnight without a heads up. She knew what you were doing this evening, but you hadn’t heard from her since morning. You, being you, figured she had an event or a rehearsal or something that kept her occupied. Not that you weren’t involved in her life, but her schedule constantly changed. It was hard for you to keep up. 

Rosie lets out another exaggerated sigh that it actually distracts you, causing your character to die in this part of the quest. 

“Dude seriously?” Jungkook’s voice is in your headphones, chuckling. “You of all people dying to that?” 

“Shut up,” Is all you say, swiveling your chair around to your girlfriend dressed in more comfortable clothes than what she arrived in—your clothes specifically. She has a habit of rummaging through your drawers. Not that you minded, she looks hot in whatever she wears. There was just something about her wearing your clothes that had you feeling some type of way. You mute your mic, double checking it is in fact muted before asking, “Everything alright?” 

“I’m over and my boyfriend won’t spend time with me,” Rosie huffs out, crossing her arms. 

“If I knew you were coming over, I wouldn’t have logged on,” You roll your eyes, glancing at the screen to thirty seconds left before you respawned. 

“I called,” Rosie glares. Someone else might’ve folded under her gaze, but it doesn’t intimidate you. 

“And my phone was in the living room,” You say, slightly apologetic, but the respawn sound plays that has you turning back to the screen. 

“Yeah yeah, play your stupid game,” Rosie mutters, which you hear loud and clear while the rest of the guys talk about their day. 

See, meeting Rosie was pure chance, a deal of the hand you weren’t expecting. Your gaming company drove the development of her group’s mobile game and when it was time to launch, the members of BLACKPINK were there.

At the time, you were just one of the developers since you had more of a managerial role and took it last minute. You were overseeing the game’s development more than anything, giving your two cents as needed, but were hands off for the most part. 

According to Rosie, as she told you during your first date, you were indifferent to meeting them as opposed to everyone else on the team who brought merch for them to sign. She noticed you before the other three girls did, and made sure she personally introduced herself to you. 

Rosie’s beautiful. You’re not blind. You get the appeal. You guessed it was that you treated them like normal people instead of idols that had most of your coworkers swooning in their presence.  

She’s also clingy, not that you minded. She’s slowly told you about her past relationships–lies, cheating, using her. It left wounds of insecurity that have made her feel unsure of who she could trust her heart with. 

One drunken night after spending it at Jennie’s, tangled in your sheets, Rosie told you she felt safe with you. 

Though, as of this moment, you sense the irritation rolling off of her. 

“What the fuck?” The controller falls into your lap when you see Rosie suddenly beside you. 

“You good over there?” Tae asks. 

“Yeah, I just gotta mute myself for a sec, my girlfriend’s calling me,” You mute the mic again, grabbing the controller before turning to Rosie. “What?” 

“I’m bored,” Rosie states simply. 

“And you want to watch me play?” 

“Can I?” You raise an eyebrow, knowing her too well that she’s up to something. 

“Did you want me to grab you a-” Rosie doesn’t let you finish, opting to sit in your lap. “Okay fine, no funny business.” 

Rosie shrugs, settling comfortably against you as you unmute yourself, “Sorry.”

“Are you in trouble?” Jungkook jokes. Your friends know of your girlfriend, but you have yet to give any information on her. Again, privacy and all that. 

“No, she’s just being needy,” That earns you a slap on the arm and a glare.

Your friends laugh, which Rosie hears, slapping your thigh this time. You squeeze her body with your arms before resting your chin on her shoulder as you continue playing. 

Time goes by, Rosie starts squirming in your hold. She was never one to sit still. You let go and she tilts her head back onto your shoulder before she relaxes against your chest. It’s nice being with her like this. She comes over often, but not often enough. 

You haven’t seen her in almost two weeks. The group just finished their last leg of their tour before their encore performances begin. They have a show in France in a couple weeks, which you’ll be joining them. She asked if you wanted to go with them to the states so you could visit your mother in San Francisco. You had to check with your boss, but it was likely you’d be going as well. 

Rosie mutes your mic, “Are you almost done?” 

“Not really,” She sighs against your body. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Rosie pouts, but she does something you were expecting. She slightly rolls her hips. It’s subtle, but it’s enough. 

“Chaeng,” You deadpan, eyes still focused on the screen. 

“What?” There it is. The tilt in her voice, that if it was anybody else, they’d fall for her feigned innocence. 

But it wasn’t anybody else. It was you. 

“Don’t,” Rosie rolls her hips against you again, this time, perfectly against your cock. “Chaeng.” 

“I’m just trying to get comfortable, you’re not exactly ergonomic,” Rosie shrugs, rocking her hips against you once again. 

Your cock stirs at the movement. You take a deep breath, refocusing yourself as your team continues the quest. 

Tae asks you a question, forcing you to reach around Rosie to unmute yourself. “Yeah I’ll check that.” 

When you mute once again, Rosie asks, “How quiet can you be?”

“What?” The question catches you off guard because Rosie’s standing up and unmutes you. She turns to smirk and drops to her knees in between your legs. Your eyes widen, shocked at her boldness. You’re about to say something when she holds a finger to her lips. 

“Fuck,” You groan into the mic when Rosie slips her hand underneath your sweats, wrapping her hand around your half-hard cock. 

“What happened?” You barely hear someone ask. 

“Nothing,” You grit out, eyes watching Rosie push your sweats down just enough to free your cock. You let out a hiss as the cool air of your apartment hits your skin. “I’m good.” 

She starts off slow, moving a loose fist up and down your length as the blood in your body rushes south. By the time you’re fully erect, she lets go, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

Rosie’s face lights up, and you know that look. It spells trouble with a capital T, and when she stands up in between your legs, pulling her (your) boxers down, you have a clear picture of what’s going to come next. 

It was meant to be a joke when you mentioned it on FaceTime while they were touring in Australia. You had this fantasy of her keeping your cock warm while you gamed. She asked if you actually wanted that, knowing how much you took gaming with your friends seriously. You shrugged, off-handedly commenting that you thought it would be hot. 

You didn’t go into much detail of how you envisioned it. It was just a fantasy, but when Rosie turns around, her shapely bottom waving in your face, this was so much better than what you imagined. 

Rosie mutes you again, her face slightly turned to you, “Still want to play your game?” 

It’s a challenge. A very dangerous one that you don’t know the outcome of, but you’d bet everything to find out. Even if that meant you have to fuck Rosie against your desk for being this needy. 

“Yeah,” Your voice comes out hoarse, hardly recognizable in your ears. 

“Fine.” One hand rests on your desk as the other reaches for your cock, angling it as she takes all of you in one smooth move. 

“Jesus Chaeng,” You nearly drop your controller as one hand shoots to her hip, gripping tightly as her walls squeeze around your cock. It knocks the wind out of you, feeling just how wet and warm she is.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Rosie slightly pants, leaning on your desk as you feel her walls stretch to accommodate your size.

“I don’t know,” You pathetically moan out as she sits up straight against your chest. 

“Keep playing,” Rosie unmutes you before slowly rocking her hips. 

You don’t know how the fuck you were supposed to focus when she feels so fucking good wrapped around you, but you push through. 

You tune in to what your friends are talking about, ignoring the small mewls Rosie lets out as her hips move in a circle on top of you. You try to be engaged, commenting here and there, but it’s hard to care what they’re saying. 

You close your eyes, dropping your head against the chair when Rosie lifts her hips along your length before dropping her weight against you. 

“Fuck,” You mutter, but it’s loud enough for your friends to hear. They ask if everything’s alright and you immediately snap back to the screen as Rosie repeats the movement again and again and again. “Yeah, I’m fine,” You grit out after she lands on a particularly hard thrust, walls tightening as she takes a breath. 

You’d give yourself a pat on a back for how far you’ve made it. The amount of self-control you have when it comes to your girlfriend is usually very low. You don’t need much convincing when it comes to having sex, but you want to hold out as much as possible to see where it takes you. 

It’s not everyday Rosie uses your cock to fuck herself. She has, but that’s usually on a bed or in your car, where she has your full, undivided attention.

Rosie brings your hands against her lower stomach, resting the controller against her as she undulates her hips. Any vibration from the game has her body reacting, which by default, you reap the benefits. 

Rosie reaches forward, the mic turning off once again, “I’m going to cum,” She moans out. 

You didn’t think she’d get there that fast, but it is hot to get fucked while your friends are oblivious to what’s going on. She loves performing for thousands of people at a time, but you know her favorite performances are for you and you alone. 

“Go ahead baby,” You murmur, eyes watching where you’re connected, her hips hypnotizing you as they move. “Make yourself cum since you couldn’t wait for me.” 

The words set her off as her body quivers, shaking on your lap as her orgasm hits. Her head snaps back and she holds onto the arm rests as she tries to shut her thighs at the pressure inside her body. The only obstacle is your hands and controller dropping, keeping her spread open as you feel a sudden wetness cover your sweats. 

“Did you just squirt baby?” Your lips ghost over her skin, sweetly kissing her behind the ear. 

“No,” Rosie mumbles weakly, resting her head on your shoulder as she catches her breath. 

“No? Then why are my clothes soaked?” You thrust up from your chair, knocking the wind out of her as she lets out a filthy moan. 

“You came,” She moans as you rock up again, enjoying the sensation. 

You click your tongue, shaking your head as you decide you can’t hold back any longer. Keeping her on top of you, her walls snug and hot, you unmute for the last time, “Ayo, I gotta go.”

Rosie tries to stand, but your arms around her keep her still, filled. 

“Dude what? We’re nowhere near done,” Jungkook whines and you roll your eyes. 

“I realized I didn’t finish something. I can pass on the shield. I’ll log on again sometime this weekend,” You say curtly without giving them a chance to respond, quickly exiting the program before tossing your controller on the desk. 

You stand, easily taking your girlfriend with you as you push her forward, folding her against your desk as she rests on her elbows, back perfectly arched, keeping your bodies connected. 

“Baby,” Rosie whines, your cock still nestled deep inside her.

“Jesus fuck Chaeng,” You pull your hips back, looking at your cock covered in her slick. “You’re a fucking menace.” 

You snap your hips forward, groaning as your cock fills her.

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?” Rosie moans, pushing her ass towards you to take you even deeper. “You chose a game over me.” 

Your hands grip her waist, stopping any movement from her as you just breathe since both of you know what’s coming next. You lean forward, kissing her head, “Don’t act like that. You know you still have all of my attention.” 

You draw your hips backwards, but before you thrust, Rosie speaks, “Then fuck me like I do.”

Never one to not obey Rosie, you do just that. 

You thrust into her experimentally, getting your bearings before you completely lose it since it has been two weeks too long and the amount of dirty texts and pictures you’ve exchanged is never enough. 

“Baby please,” Rosie begs, head slightly turning before nodding. 

The control snaps and you’re thrusting wildly, her hips slamming against the desk, before she could react. 

One of the best parts, aside from you care deeply for and can genuinely share your thoughts and feelings with, is that Rosie always welcomes being fucked hard. Sure you’ve had sex at a much tamer, slower pace, which is just as great, but it’s the best when it’s been a while and the only thing either of you could focus on is tearing each other apart together. 

“Missed you so much,” Rosie whines, doing what she can to meet your thrusts. It isn’t much since you’re practically nailing her against the furniture. 

“Missed you too baby,” You groan as her walls start to clamp down to keep you inside. 

One hand lets go of her waist, raising it slightly before your palm makes contact with her ass cheek. She lets out a moan, pressing her face into her arms, slightly embarrassed by how her body reacts to the pain. You watch her skin slowly turn red, spurring you on even more. 

You feel your peaks coming soon just based on how much easier it is. Her pussy’s slickness lets you slide in and out with ease, but there’s another thing that Rosie loves and it’s how vocal you can get. 

Praise is all around her, but the praise she adores the most is when you tell her yourself. 

Your hand grips her waist again before you let your thoughts fall freely from your mouth. 

Fuck you feel so good baby. 

Couldn’t wait for me huh? Needed my cock so badly.

You look so pretty, letting me fuck this pussy.

You were so hot taking me while I played. 

Bounce on my cock next time, let my friends hear what a good little slut you are. 

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body taking you with her. Your hips stutter into her and your vision goes white as you hit your climax. You couldn’t pull out since she was doing everything to keep you in. 

“Holy shit,” She moans out, back tensing as you feel her release over your cock, making a filthy mess as you paint her insides with your cum. 

You immediately wrap your arms around her stomach, pulling her into your chest as you groan out the remainder of your orgasm. 

It takes you a minute, but you collapse on your chair, the wheels slightly rolling backwards while Rosie falls flat on top of your desk. 

The sight of your girlfriend, fucked out, panting, has you questioning why you didn’t give your attention in the first place. You feel a second wind coming as the smallest bit of cum dribbles out in between her lower lips. 

“Can you go again?” You ask after a few minutes, staring as more of your cum falls out. You almost reach out to push it back in, but you spare her the overstimulation.

Rosie stands straight before turning to you. She bends to kiss you softly on the lips, sitting on your lap, and circling her arms around your neck. 

“Quick nap?” Rosie offers, peppering kisses over your jawline, which of course, immediately gets you worked up. 

“Fine,” You pout like a petulant child. 

You swoop your arms underneath her body, making sure you have a strong grip before standing. You literally have BLACKPINK’s lead singer in your arms, and any physical damage to her would automatically fall on you. 

Rosie giggles as she holds on, telling you not to drop her or the girls would come after you. You roll your eyes, knowing it’s an empty—sort of. The only member you’re actually scared of is Jisoo, while the other two are like the little sisters you never wanted. 

Once you gently lay your girlfriend down, you reach for the bottoms she was wearing, tossing it to her. You change into a different pair of sweats, noticing how much of a mess was actually made before joining her back in bed. 

“Hi,” You whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips as you stare at your girlfriend. You still couldn’t believe she chose you to date out of everyone else.

“Hi yourself,” Rosie smiles, burying her face into your chest. “I missed you.” It comes out soft, shy even, because feelings are still hard for her to put into words. 

“I missed you too,” You bring your lips to her forehead. 

There’s something else you want to tell her, something you’ve been holding in for a couple months at this point. You want to say it now, but when you hear light snores, you know it’s not the time. 

You say it anyway, “I love you.” 

--

--

--

[submariini]

When Finland’s Käärijä took the stage at this year’s Eurovision, a star was instantly, explosively born. With an outrageous energy, infectious presence and that oh-so-catchy hook, the Vantaa-based rapper may not have won the contest but he certainly snatched the hearts of those in his home country and beyond. We ask Käärijä the million dollar question: what next?

[full article under the cut]

Last May, a peculiar frenzy engulfed Finland. Virtually all green foods – cucumbers, especially – were sold out from stores. Buildings across the land were bathed in vivid green lights. Social media brimmed with green-themed parties, while data obtained by Swedish fintech company Klarna showed a 570 per cent increase in the online sales of neon green shirts.

This phenomenon was all thanks to Käärijä, the rapper who represented Finland in the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest. His now-infamous, blazing green puff sleeve bolero – dreamt up by Finnish broadcasting company Yle’s costume design team and which he dons when performing the smash hit track ‘Cha Cha Cha’ – had taken on a life of its own, the lush hue uniting the entire nation amid the competition. “It was incredible to see it happen and so cool being part of it,” Käärijä says. “It wasn’t planned at all – it was the people who created the commotion. I’ll definitely never forget it.”

When we speak over Zoom, Käärijä, whose real name is Jere Pöyhönen, is lounging in his minimal apartment in Vantaa, a city just outside Helsinki. He appears on my screen shirtless, a chunky gold chain dangling on his neck. On his head sits a pastel turquoise cap adorned with little cat ears. As he gestures with his hands, I spot flashes of poison green nail varnish. Pöyhönen’s chosen attire, or lack thereof, is extremely fitting – he typically performs bare-chested (“It gets so hot during my gigs”) and his Instagram handle is @paidatonriehuja, or ‘shirtless rascal’.

Hot off a performance in western Finland, the 29-year-old is enjoying his first days off in a while. It’s been a sweltering summer of non-stop touring, with fans flocking to festivals and concerts nationwide to see his explosive live show. Things are not winding down either, with Käärijä heading off on his first-ever European tour this month. Some of these shows sold out in mere minutes, an indication of his immense international following. “It’s so exciting; I’m definitely jumping into a new territory with that tour,” Pöyhönen says. “But I don’t have any expectations – I’m just going to let everything happen organically rather than stressing about it.”

Although he created one of this year’s buzziest songs, the guy on my screen is humble and, save for his look, almost un assuming. I remark on the stark contrast to his fiery and flamboyant stage presence. “Through Käärijä, I get to channel all the craziness, quirkiness and hyperactivity I’ve had since I was a child,” Pöyhönen says, describing himself offstage as “just this ordinary dude”. Without delving into further details, he tells me that the name Käärijä (translating roughly to moneymaker) stems from a history with gambling. Despite the darkness of its origin, he notes that the moniker is to be taken with a grain of salt.

While it might seem like Käärijä exploded into the public consciousness from obscurity, Pöyhönen has a long journey in music behind him. Born in Helsinki but having spent most of his youth in Vantaa, he started dabbling in the medium at just three years old. Coming from a musical family (“My dad and big brother both play the guitar”), jamming sessions were commonplace in the Pöyhönen household, his instrument of choice being the drums. “I was playing with pots and spoons before I got a set of those plastic kids’ drums,” he says. “When we moved to a bigger house, we built a band room downstairs where me and my brother spent a lot of time practising.”

At that time, rap music hadn’t yet entered Pöyhönen’s life; he was strictly a self-described “metal guy”. His older brother had instilled in him a love for the genre, particularly metal icons Rammstein. Upon starting high school, his musical taste broadened and he began listening to Eminem and popular Finnish rap groups Fintelligens and JVG. “Me and my friends were filming our own music videos to old rap songs, learning the words by heart,” Pöyhönen says. “It [making rap music] pretty much started as this humour thing I did with my mates.”

Encouraged by his loved ones, Pöyhönen began writing his own songs, still playing it for laughs. Turned out he had a knack for it. “Since I was little, I’ve been an avid storyteller – my imagination ran a little wilder than the rest of the kids’ at my school,” he says. “So when I started making music, I didn’t even need inspiration; I was able to whip up the lyrics from my head.”

But then, at 15, an unexpected turning point came by way of a severe sudden illness. Rushed to the hospital with ulcerative colitis, a chronic inflammatory bowel disease, Pöyhönen underwent emergency surgery to remove his colon. Had he not been treated immediately, the complications could have been fatal. “I was writing songs in the hospital – music became a source of strength for me,” he says. “I decided that if I make it through this, I’m going to give my all to music and be serious about it.”

After over a decade of hard work and countless hours in the studio, Käärijä released his first album, Fantastista (Fantastic), in 2020, but it would take three years for him to become a household name in Finland. After snapping up the top prize in Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (the Finnish contest for new music) with his party anthem ‘Cha Cha Cha’, a song dedicated to a hedonistic night out fusing rap, electronic music and metal, he secured the coveted spot as his country’s entrant for the 2023 Eurovision, held in Liverpool. One of Pöyhönen’s craziest dreams had come true.

For Pöyhönen, Eurovision was “an amazing but immensely tough experience”. The event’s intense schedule and the little time carved out for practising surprised the artist. There was no room for errors or retakes once it was time for rehearsals. “They didn’t give much mercy,” he says. On the bright side, the long days filled with “lots of press conferences and waiting around” gave Pöyhönen a chance to get to know the other artists. “The group we had there was wonderful – there wasn’t a competitive atmosphere at all,” he says. One of the contestants he became especially close with was Sweden’s Loreen, with whom he exchanged numbers and promised to “meet up and talk about everything else but music”.

By the time the grand finale came, Käärijä’s explosive performance and infectious song had made him one of the favourites to win. Ultimately he came second, while Loreen nabbed first place. How did Pöyhönen handle the letdown? “It was a huge disappointment, but in the end, the feeling didn’t last long,” he says. “When I thought about how far I’d gotten, the incredible journey it was and all the new friends I made, I realised that these things are far more meaningful than winning.” Plus, he still achieved something major: ‘Cha Cha Cha’ made history as the first ever Finnish song to reach Spotify’s global most-listened charts. The track’s reach proved to Pöyhönen that language doesn’t matter; it’s all about creating a singular, infectious sound: “The mouth is just as much of an instrument as the piano or the guitar is,” he says.

Having made history, I ask Pöyhönen if he felt any pressure after the Eurovision bubble had burst. “Of course there are the thoughts of ‘what now?’ and ‘is this going to be it, will anyone be interested anymore next year?’ – I’m aware that the hype won’t last forever,” he says. “But I’m onto creating the next thing, trying not to feel any pressure for future releases. I haven’t done that before, so why would I do that now?”

Pöyhönen hints at a new album dropping sometime next year, but in the meantime, he’s enjoying the attention – including his Vogue Scandinavia debut. Shot at the extraordinary home of the late interior architect Antti Nurmesniemi and his wife, textile artist Vuokko Nurmesniemi, we find the space where Pöyhönen and Käärijä meet, the quiet confidence mingling with that more-is-more persona.

And while Käärijä might develop as a character (“I want to show that he’s more than just a bolero chap”), he’s adamant that he will stay true to his music and keep singing in Finnish, despite the sudden international attention. “In the end, I’m doing this for myself,” he says. “Also, why change something that works?”

Photographer: Karoliina Bärlund Stylist: Sanna Silander Talent: Käärijä Hair Stylist and Makeup Artist: Neea Kuurne Photographer Assistant: Milja Laakso Stylist Assistant: Nelli Korhonen

[nnight-dances]

SWEET BOY

PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader (ft. choi vernon)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: older brother figure to lover, childhood friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, jealousy, skinship, dk being a blushy idiot and you being a plain idiot.

lines are funny when it comes to your life. lines drawn from one point to another, lines forced to keep your work life and your personal life, but most important the big daunting line between you and your crush of nearly two years now, dokyeom. 

it's funny, it really is, given how much time you've spent riling yourself up over him, telling yourself that he should retain the role he always had in your life: the older brother figure. because dokyeom's heart-warmingly kind, no even more so– blood-curdingly kind, painfully nice to everyone he meets, patient beyond imagination. he's worse than any nice guys you've met, simply because he fits the archetype too well to be real. 

"don't you get tired?" you ask him, when he shows up at your door, clutching bags of take-out food, no doubt after hearing from your mom how you haven't had a chance to eat. yet, you'd emphasized to her after you'd made the mistake of letting her know you were too busy to cook. 

"shouldn't i be asking you that?" dokyeom grunts as he lets himself into your house, familiar with the place like the back of his hand. "i know mr. ko called you in and gave you an earful for missing the last deadline, but that's no excuse to skip meals."

okay, worth mentioning is the fact that while you knew dokyeom since childhood thanks to the fact that you grew up in the same household, you'd also ended up moving to the city to sign a contract with the publishing company where he worked at, as an editor. it was half a coincidence, because you can't say you sought out the company simply on its merits. 

you sigh as you stretch out a crick in your neck, "i'm not doing this because mr. ko told me to. i'm fine, i'm just trying to clear up my schedule before the end of the year. god knows i don't want to be working on new year's eve."

"and you won't," dokyeom takes off his coat, revealing a light blue sweater underneath, one that you've grown fond of. it's a sweet sweater, for a sweet man. 

"well, thanks, anyway. for the food. sorry if my mom pestered you into doing this."

"i don't want to hear a word out of you till you've eaten."

you obey him silently, taking out the lukewarm bánh mì from its bag and starting to eat. dokyeom watches with a slight smile, noting how your hair was in a ponytail, a rare occurrence. just another indication that you were forcing yourself to work too hard. 

"what am i going to with you…" he muses to himself, slowly tidying up the mess on your writing corner. the little wooden table you'd spent hours studying and testing before buying, is crowded with stationery and a few notebooks. your laptop sits blank, screen indicating that it was close to dying. dokyeom brushes off the stray balls of napkins off and into the small trashcan next to the chair, followed by all the tiny eraser dust particles. he's just plugged in your laptop when he hears you call out his name softly. 

"hmm?" he calls back. "you want some coffee?" you ask and when dokyeom arches a brow at you, you wave your empty hands, "i'm done eating! can a girl not want a warm liquid post-meal?"

"fine, fine. i'll have some, thanks." he laughs as you glare at him, mumbling incoherencies about him. 

"oh, right, i almost forgot to tell you," dokyeom pulls out his phone, ten minutes later when the two of you are settled on the couch, waiting for your steaming mugs to settle down a little. "there's a department-wide party this sunday, an end of year gathering or something. you should come, i hear the budget this year's crazy. it's at a fancy hotel and everything."

you narrow your eyes at dokyeom, "i don't know about that. work parties are a slog, dude. i can't stand to get drunk with the people who literally torture the creativity out of me."

"that's harsh, y/n. and an exaggeration."

"whatever…" you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, "i… i don't even have a date. it's kind of a short notice to find someone anyway–"

"i'll be your date," dokyeom offers, faster than either of you could comprehend his response. his ears flush, "um, i mean, i'll go with you, if you don't… mind."

"why would i mind? i just thought you'd have someone to go with already," you say and when you catch the shy look on your friend's face, "unless of course, nobody's asked you. which i totally understand."

"hey! i don't want to take names but i've had to tell some people no already. so don't–"

"oh? so you rejected the people who did ask you? i thought you were too nice to do that. "

"yeah, i did. i didn't want to go with them. i don't know them well enough to guarantee they'll be fun for the entire night. plus, it's messy going with someone from work. you agree once, who's to say they'll keep asking you for life?"

"i'm someone from work, too," you point out, averting your gaze to the coffee, watching the evaporation swirl around. 

"you're different, silly," dokyeom chuckles out, arm hitting yours, "we're already messy. i knew you before work, and i'll know you long after. we're more than that, you know?"

that? whatever he meant, you find your heart soaring ever so much, "hm, i suppose you're not wrong. fine, i'll come to the party." if it's with you. 

that night you find yourself obsessing over this conversation. what did dk mean we're already messy? you were messy? you knew he didn't mean that like a bad thing but the word unsettled you anyway. your feelings for him only made it harder to listen to him objectively, especially when he says stuff like we're more than that. more than what, exactly?

– 

dokyeom's having a hell of a day, carrying around a headache he's had since this morning and a heavy to-do list that doesn't seem to be going anywhere despite the fact that he's been at his desk for about five hours now. he sits back with a grunt, taking his eyes off his screen for a moment to take a break. 

as soon as he tunes back into the physical world around him, he overhears his coworkers chatting near his desk, instant coffeee in hand. 

"yo, you're kidding! how'd you get her number finally?" ren, a newbie, elbows the man next to him. vernon, the man in question, is grinning too wide for his own good. 

"i just asked her for it. i told her i had some important doubts about her new manuscript."

"that didn't annoy her?"

"nah, y/n's chill like that. she was super nice about it, too, telling me she would love to hear from me."

ren gasps dramatically, "no way, do you think she–"

dokyeom clears his throat with a start, having had enough as an eavesdropper for the day. he stands up, making eye-contact with vernon who shoots him a nonchalant smile. it pisses dokyeom off, how wasn't he bothered? 

his headache's only getting worse so he decides to get himself something to eat while he's at it. some fresh air might help him. he shoots the pair a stiff smile as he leaves the office, hand clutching his phone a little too hard. as he gets into the elevator, he's alerted of a message.

speak of the devil, he thinks when your name pops up on his screen. am i expected to dress formal for this party? you ask. 

only if u want to :) he shoots back.

… what kind of an answer is that. 

an honest one. expectations are only as high as you want them to be.

you know i hate you right 

enough to ask me to be ur date? <3 <3 

you're befuddled on the other side of the chat, "who asked who?" you mumble, choosing to not respond to dokyeom's frustrating reply to your very genuine question. 

dokyeom, on the other hand, is feeling much better now that he's had a chance to talk to you. where you're reserved about your feelings for him, dokyeom really couldn't be more transparent about them. or so he thinks. but really, he's convinced he couldn't be clearer about how he feels about you– instantaneous responses to your texts, making sure you eat on time, corresponding with your mom to reassure her of your good health, careful attention to what you're into at the time so he can buy you the things you refuse to splurge on. 

to dokyeom, this was the clearest confession of his love for you. the only reason he hasn't vocalized it in person is because he doubts any good would come out of it. he's more than happy with the relationship he has with you, a safe enough distance but a warm closeness anyway. besides, he's pretty certain you think of him as more of a brother than anything. an older brother figure you've known since you were children. better to keep things the way they were. right?

– 

dokyeom's increasily unsure about his convictions to keep things the same. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you look breathtaking tonight. you're adorned in the prettiest pink dress, eyes sparkling more than usual thanks to the glitter you'd dabbed on and hair cascading down to your shoulders in curls that has him a little weak in the knees.

he does visibly gape at you when you greet him at the door with a small smile. he's flustered enough to be out of words so you're left speaking to a shell of him. "hey, you're a little earlier than i imagined. i'm almost ready. come in though." 

when he stands still despite your invitation, you frown. "dokyeom?" he bites his lip as he comes to and nods, walking in after you. "you good?"

"yeah, just a little nervous."

"nervous?" 

"you look really pretty," he musters, reddening when your eyes widen at his honest confession, "i'm a little dizzy." the two statements are correlated but you don't pick up on that, instead becomes concerned. you take his arm and your cold touch on his arm only sends him further down his dazed condition.

"dizzy? that's no good. come sit," you pull him to the couch, making him take a seat. god, dokyeom thinks he's dreaming when you touch his cheek, "do you need medicine? warm tea? water?"

he clears his throat, "n-no, i'm fine," he lets himself fall against the cushions, closing his eyes against the rush in his veins. "just– you should go get ready. i'll be back to normal soon."

you look at him in confusion for a prolonged few seconds before giving up and doing as he said. when you come back, you have a lip gloss and heels on. "okay," you announce to the back of dokyeom's head, "i'm ready, dk."

he sits up quickly, head clearing up now. he turns around to you and smiles a cheerful smile that is much more like him. "alright! let's go!" 

you watch him warily anyway, all the way to his car. "ah, your hair–" you reach out to the back of his head where some hair stuck out from his earlier meltdown. gently, you brush the disturbances away, fingers swift in their adminstrations. dokyeom thinks he might break down again, the gesture making him feel giddy all over again. it doesn't help when he feels your warm breath on his neck when you sigh, returning to your seat. "ok, no more hair casualities, we are set to go."

dokyeom can't afford to look up at you so he simply starts the car, keeping his head straight so he can drive the both of you to the venue safely. 

being in a room bustling with people he knows really helps dokyeom, for as soon as you reach the hall, he takes off in a rush, something about having to greet everyone that's important. you don't know to feel about his flight but you manage to shrug it off, trusting him enough to know he'll be back before long. 

you station yourself near the refreshments, finding yourself a flute of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres to keep you company while dokyeom does what he does. you find yourself mildly enjoying yourself, people-watching all sorts of groups and downing your second serving of champagne, when you're joined by someone. 

it's kitty, a coworker you're less than fond of, thanks to her loud mouth and overwhelming beauty. she's dressed in an immaculate white dress, face glowing even in the harsh light as she smiles at you. "y/n!"

"kitty," you acknowledge her with a cordial nod of your own, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"how've you been? you look much better than the last time i saw, so not too bad i hope!"

your smile sours, "i'm fine, kitty. nice to see you're feeling as chatty as usual." 

"i am! what better ocassion than a party to be social," she remarks pointedly and you contain a sigh. kitty was an important coworker, unfortunately for you, with her in charge for your public image and general likeability. it really should be criminal how little she likes you for someone who has to make sure you appeal to the masses. 

"i didn't even think i'd see you around. you have a date?"

"i'm here with dokyeom, yeah." 

this seems to startle kitty, because she's speechless for a moment. "dokyeom? he said yes to you?"

ignoring whatever undertones of disbelief kitty's giving off, you roll your eyes, "it was more that he forced me to come with him, but yeah, sure, however you wanna say it." 

"wow, dokyeom's really kind to do that. he even turned me down. he must really treasure your friendship."

now you've had enough of her insinuations, so you cut the chat short. "sorry, kitty, i need to use the bathroom. excuse me." 

you break away from her, feeling the weight of her glare at your aloofness. you really don't care for her snarky remarks usual, long-accustomed to the kind of gossip she likes to generate. but tonight, your tolerance was low. you didn't want to think about why dokyeom asked you to come to the party, and you certainly didn't want kitty's suggestions marinate in your mind. but it's too late, you feel your chest tighten at the thought of dokyeom feeling pity for you, asking you to come because that's just how kind he was, and you, his best charity case. 

dokyeom spots you from across the room where he's eventually recovered from his weak condition. he feels guilt spike through his veins when he sees you storm away from kitty, who's no doubt spewed some obnoxious nonsense to make you leave the room with that tense expression of yours.

he excuses himself from his conversation to run off after you, managing to catch you as you leave the hall. 

"y/n!" he calls out, catching ahold of your shoulder. "where are you going?" 

you stop, startled by dokyeom's interception. you slowly turn around, trying your best to neutralize your expression. "um, just using the bathroom. i drank that champagne a little too fast." 

"oh, you sure you're okay? i saw you talking to kitty earlier and i know how frustrating she can be."

you laugh mirthlessly, "i'll be okay as long as i don't run into her in the next five months or so." you turn away, presumably toward the washroom. you'd hoped your explanation would be enough to soothe dokyeom's curiosity but then you hear him follow after you. 

"dk?"

"i'll go with you."

"to the washroom?" 

"uh, yeah. i'll walk you in case you can't find your way back."

"they have signs everywhere and the party's in the biggest hall here– i– whatever, i need to pee too bad to argue with you right now." 

from thereon, dokyeom doesn't leave your side for a second. you don't know what to think of it but you don't complain because your mood's much better when you spend your time by his side, shitting on the ocassional passerby and laughing at each other's jokes. 

dokyeom regrets leaving you by yourself in the first place, especially because he's almost too certain that kitty had told you he'd turned her invitation down. it was awkward to even look at her, let alone talk to her. but then again, she's never been one to care about other people's comfort because about halfway into the night, you spot her trailing back to your table with a few people following her. 

the group crowds your table and you find yourself pressed against a stranger who no doubt works with kitty. he shoots you a sleazy smile and you're grateful when you feel dokyeom subtly pull you closer toward him with a hand around your waist. what you don't expect is him to leave him arm there, draped down your back, finger resting against the small of lower back, sending chills up your spine.

"hey, you two! what're you upto, you've been stuck to this table for the entire night," kitty laughs. 

dokyeom notices vernon among the group, much to his chagrin, smiling at you boyishly. you wave back at vernon with a soft chuckle, thankful that not everyone in this crowd was a snoozefest. 

"just talking," is dokyeom's curt response. "are y'all enjoying the party?" he adresses the larger group, making it a point to not look at kitty. 

"i wish there was more real food," someones pipes in with a grunt and people laugh in agreement. 

"the wine's really good though. expensive stuff," vernon points out, looking at the wine glass propped between you and dokyeom. 

"yeah, it's maybe the best thing about this party," you chime in with a smile. before dokyeom can somehow bring up the fact that he'd been drinking out of the same glass as you, ren gasps out loud, "oh my god, guys, the mistletoe man's back!"

you look around in confusion and find a man dressed in green overalls walking around with some mistletoe stuck his chest, neatly tied with a red ribbon stuck to his chest. "the fuck?" you mumble out and dokyeom laughs at your bewilderment. "it's a stupid tradition," dokyeom says softly to you, "heard someone say it's to foster closer connections between workers."

"by forcing them to kiss?" you whisper back with a grimace as you watch a pair break away from their kiss with bitter expressions. it's fine though because they look at each other's disgust and break into laughter, their table cheering them on. 

"i think it's cute!" kitty remarks, watching the man as he turns around from a few tables over.

"shit, i think he's coming over here," ren curses. "why's that a bad thing?" kitty questions, smiling, eyes glued to the side of dokyeom's face. you might gouge your eyes out one of these days. you're too busy ignoring the ruckus kitty's causing with her frantic giggles as the mistetoe man approaches her. but then he goes past her and she goes silent, eyes coming to still behind you. that's when you realize the mistletoe man's standing square between you and dokyeom. 

you turn around to the man with wide eyes but he simply smiles, "the mistletoe man knows when he sees two lovers!" you don't know what he means till you become aware of dokyeom's arm around you. he pulls away in surprise and his face is red when you look up at dokyeom. 

"this is stupid," you murmur, hoping he'll agree and you wouldn't have to participate in this tradition.

"kiss! kiss! kiss!" ren starts a chant and everyone but kitty and vernon is quick to join in. dokyeom looks bewildered at the unison, and he looks at you, then down at your lips. "we don't have to do this," he comforts you.

"do you want to?" you ask him under your breath. you feel yourself flushing. 

"i'll do it if you want to."

you hate how agreeable dokyeom is sometimes, wishing he would decide for you, for this once. you don't want to think about all the eyes on you, the whispering that's no doubt been reignited. everyone knows you and dokyeom have been friends and maybe something more for years now, but to witness conclusive proof is thrilling to them. 

you feel frozen with the weight of the decision upon you. but then kitty opens her stupid mouth, "ah, dokyeomie, you don't have to do something you don't want to–" 

that spurs you on, you find yourself pressing yourself against dokyeom, raising yourself to his height so you can press your lips to his. he meets you halfway, as if he'd been waiting for you to do exactly this, his large hand finding your cheek so he can seal the deal. 

this goes without saying, you've never kissed dokyeom before, but the way it feels so natural has you questioning if this really was the first time. his lips are pillowy against yourself, his breath hitting your face sweetly when you finally pull away. his eyes are hooded like you've never seen them and you really wish you could memorize this feeling, ingrain it into your mind for later. 

but the moment breaks when you hear the table around you erupt with all kinds of reactions. you don't care to look though, too busy with your own reaction to handle. your heart's fluttering but your eyes feel watery when you pull away from dokyeom. you don't know what to think of all the lines you've been worrying about, the line between you and dokyeom cracking the moment you leaned into his lips. 

–

dokyeom's scared for his life right now. after the chaos around you settled a little, you'd looked at him and quietly asked if he could drive you home right now. he'd been quick to agree, following you out of the door without bidding anyone goodbye. but you're silent the entire walk to his car, not answering him when he asks if you're okay. 

now that you're settled in the car, he pauses before starting the engine. "y/n," he starts softly. you focus on your breathing, staring down at your hands blankly. "i'm sorry."

this makes you look up at him, mouth slightly ajar. "...why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, lips set in a narrow line.

"i– that must have made you uncomfortable. i didn't know what else to–"

"i was the one who kissed you," you comment, looking away and out the window, hands now fists in your lap. dokyeom watches as you tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear, "i should be sorry."

should be, because you weren't a bit sorry about the kiss. the circumstances that caused it? sure. but the kiss itself wasn't something you would undo. 

dokyeom doesn't know what to say because there's so much to say. where does he even start? "i thought you always saw me as a… brother." 

"what?" your eyes hold a sea of disbelief in them but then as you blink back at a solemn dokyeom, you think it's not that crazy for him to think that after all. "well, i used to. how could i not? mom had drilled it into my system to rely on you like you were family."

dokyeom hums, "...and?"

"i mean, i clearly don't think… i don't have the feelings of a sister toward you," you mumble, your cheeks on fire when you hear your poor phrasing. "if i did, it would be a problem that i wanted to kiss back there."

"you did?" dokyeom gapes and you look at him with a slight tilt of your head. "i– obviously!" you tell him. 

he swallows, "wow. i don't even know what to think–" it's his turn to look at his hands that are trembling, "honest to god, i've never harboured anything but romantic feelings for you, y/n." he says this, head lowered as if in shame, ears revealing how embarassed he was. "i love your mother, but i swear she wanted to kill me the way she encouraged you to call me your brother when you were out with me." 

you grimace, holding back a chuckle, "i'm sorry…" 

"don't be," dokyeom sounds truly defeated, as if the work of hiding his feelings from you had finally caught up with him. "i'm sorry i didn't make myself clearer sooner. never imagined we'd talk about this because we got bullied into our first kiss."

you sigh, nodding as you mutter an agreement. dokyeom rises from his slouch slowly, coming to lock eyes with you. one of his hands comes to rest atop your own fist, prying it open so that you were holding his. you feel warm beyond imagination, feeling like you might burst open with the intensity of your feelings for dokyeom, wondering how you'd ever managed to keep them secret. 

"can…" you stop, voice hoarse, licking your lips nervously, "will you kiss me? for real this time?"

it doesn't take dokyeom a moment's hesitation to close the distance betwen you, his soft lips back on yours, not soon enough for you to get used to the gentle saccharine daze that overcame you. your unoccupied hand card through his hair, similar to a few hours ago when you'd been fixing it, but this time dokyeom lets out the mewl he'd been contatining last time.

he pulls away with a somewhat grunt, eyes starry, "there's no way you didn't know what your were doing." you look back at him, a little breathless with a look of complete confusion. 

he sighs, giving in and rest his head against yours, "when you were fixing my hair earlier, i thought i'd die of a heart attack. finally give up and move on from you, if only in death."

"don't say that, dk," you scold him, hands around him in concern, "and i don't understand why– i mean i feel like we've touched… in other ways before so–"

"i don't know either!" he exclaims, "i just– you looked so fucking gorgeous tonight and then you kept being oblivious to how obviously down bad i am for you– i just couldn't."

"hey, you weren't obvious if i didn't know! that's unfair…" you mumble, looking away with flushed cheeks. it didn't make sense to you.  but dokyeom simply laughs into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, not much of a change for your dynamic. you'd hugged dokyeom countless times before but now you feel unimaginably closer to him, like you were actually holding him, the entirety of him in your arms. it was incredible, the warmth that blossomed inside you in the silence that surrounded you. it was love.

love shows up even in the early mornings when you're with dokyeom. he'd slept over after your date last night, when you'd insisted you would be too lonely to sleep if he promptly took off (like a gentleman, he commented). you'd laid in bed till 2 am, kissing and talking the night away, his hands finding their indents underneath your worn-out tee. 

you wake up to his nose snuggled in your neck, breathing softly in slumber, hair sticking out every which way. you can't help the loving giggle that leaves you, making him stir in his sleep, arm coming to sit atop your bare stomach. 

"sweet boy," you mumble, placing a kiss atop his forehead and watching in awe as his brown eyes come to life at the action. "you awake?" you jokingly ask but dokyeom responds with a groggy grunt, smiling with fluttering eyes. 

you run a finger through his hair. he groans, "don't wake up yet." you laugh, stroking a strand behind his ear, "but i'm already–" 

he cuts you off with a pout, "no, don't wake up, love. please, want to sleep some more." 

you sigh and shift impossibly closer to him. "all right, then. can't argue with that logic." 

with that, you doze off again. how you manage to fall right back asleep is beyond you, though it might have something to do with the fact that dokyeom's presence brings you a serenity you didn't know you could feel, a feeling that's better than the soft comforter that he himself had picked out for your bed. his arms hold you close, the sweetness melting your heart the whole time you dream, dreaming of dokyeom and of love.

[gassydumbjocks]

Its Good To Be A Man

Tyler close the door and throw himself to the sofa, exhausted after a day of work thanking it was finally over. He worked at a pretty good company, but being the only gay guy in his department and having to deal with homophobes and sexist co-workers was sometimes too much for him, so he thought about watching a movie or a tv show maybe to relax and sleep.

He started to look up in his VHS Cassettes' box and soon noticed that strangely, a new one was there, it didn't got any cover or stuff, and just had written "Its good to be a man" as the only title on it, he found it weird, but then supposed perhaps that his dumb jock of a roommie got it and put it with his stuff "I've told him not to touch my things like a million times, when is that brute gotta learn"

He had to admit the curiousity was hitting him, it was probably a home made video recorded by Connor and his gross buddies, but boy... after all, he was gay, and all of Connor's friends were toned ripped jocks from the gym (with a brain of a peanut size, but hot after all)

Thinking "maybe its just their excersizes routines... guess it wouldn't hurt to see" feeling a bit of a lust mood running in his body "ok, just a couple minutes...but i swear, if its just them having a belch off, im burning this" he said.

Putting the tape in the tv player, he clicked to put the video, and all of a sudden, the typical static sound shows, then a simple white screen, making Tyler raise an eyebrow, before what seemed to be a variety show intro plays, a smiling man in a suit which he supposed was the host, along a bunch athletic shirtless men with dumb expressions who followed next to him appeared in screen.

"Good to see ya again my brothers!" The host announces "this is your program where you learn how to be real MEN", as if it was a cue, the stud-bodied-like guys all grunted and beated their chests, like they were gorillas making a chanting "Uh!, Uh!, Uh!" and flexed their arms, making the audience laugh loudly, with those cocky grins Tyler knew so well, he rolled his eyes.

Making the host laugh aswell, he patted one of them in the back "That's what i talk about" he joked "Alright folks, tonight we'll indulge into an intense session of what it means to be a man, these guys here will serve as examples in showing you all stuff boys MUST do to become the alpha macho men they truly are" he adds, then, smirking, he takes a small device from his suit pocket.

"This little thing here made sure to leave them empty headed and obey any manly command given to them, just as it'll make sure to do the same for you, ma boy" he suddenly announces.

"...The hell?" Tyler said, arching his look again as he watched them "is this some bullshit hypnosis crap or?..." he asked

"That's right, dudes! Lets begin" the host shouted. "It's time to show off around what you're made of! We'll do something primal, no pun intented" he joked "We'll now do the first category: BURPING!, so, let's hear those nice bassy burps!" he says, turning to the group of jocks, as he pressed a button of that device.

Immediatly, they started to release loud and deep monsters of burps, at unison, as if they were in trance, still with those dumb expressions, and Tyler could swear he saw how one of them got his eyes crossed with a complete fool face.

Even worse, Tyler felt a strange urge to burp himself too. He tried to resist, but the feeling was overwhelming, he rubbed his gut hoping to calm it down, but he just letted out a loud, embarrassing belch, blushing immediatly

"Wha-BOOOOUUURRP?- Is happening?!" he said between belches, a little ashamed.

"Excellent!" the host cheered. "This is what i call a manly symphony!, but we also know there is another way to do that, right?" He asks the public with a mischevous grin "FARTING is a big part in the bonding among men, so, we just have to, let it rip right?" He asked again, as he pressed that little button.

Some of the guys turned around to show their butts, other simply proceed to lift their legs, but they all did the same, at the command of "letting rip" they instantly started a worthy orchestra of simultaneous farts, each sounding grosser and deepest than the last one

Tyler was grossed out and sick, he wanted it to stop, but as he bend over a bit over to approach the tv, his butt felt the need to drop a massive, and nasty monster of a deep fart, the loudest he've ever letted out, he could feel his butt vibrating at that one, sitting normally again, horrified and trying to cover his butt with his hands.

"This-BOOOOOOOUUUUURRRRRPP!" He belched "Is a nightmare!..."

PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRTTTT!!!

That last fart seemed to do something on Tyler, he kept one second silent before, turning his head to the tv again, now with a dumb and foolish grin adorning his face "hahaha, dudee, i need to quit the bean dip next timee" he said in a lower, more manly voice.

"Whew! Guys! Ok ok its enough! Hahaha" The always happy host said, as he waved his hand to make the smell go away, as the dumb bunch of men kept blasting bombs out of their butts "Geez, dont anybody here think on turning on a lighter" he said bursting in laughing, making Tyler laugh too at the stupid joke.

"But for now, this is all we got for today's emmision, bros, we're glad that you could come with us in this, stinky, foul and manly lessons that every man needs to apply in his everyday, till the next program! Boys? Would you like to wave goodbay?" he asked with a grin.

The camera showed each of them, now it was sure they all had that same cross-eyed look and dumb smiles, like Tyler did, the staff offered a can of a kind of soda to one of them, which he drank in a single gulp, before removing it from his lips "GOOOD BYEEEEAAAAUUURRRRRP!" A massive belch came out, as he succesfully burp-talked, gaining again the laughs and applause from all the people in the set.

Meanwhile with Tyler, at the same time he also relaxed his muscles, and lifted a leg as he felt some pressure in his lower abdomen, he knew very well what that meant "Bombs away!" he said proudly, before the smelly, big and long fart made its way out of his crack.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!

"Hahah!" he chuckled "i think i just ruined my undies"

[abbys-wifey]

red looks good on you

pairing: vada cavell x female reader

warnings: drug use, alcohol consumption

a/n: vada is literally the cutest little person.

Bored. That’s how I felt being stuck at home on a Friday night with no dads, no sister and no fucking weed.

Of course it was my choice to not go to some dudes party that my twin, Mia, had decided to go to but I hate the party scene anyway, hormonal guys trying to pull you into a bedroom so they would get some stupid alone time, and crappy cheap beer. Not my type of fun time.

“Uhhh.” I groan and collapse onto the couch a simple cup of vodka in my hand. Taking a sip and trying my hardest not to make a face I check my phone to see Mias number flashing on my screen.

“Yeah?” I pick up the call and place it against my ear.

“Hey Y/N just letting you know Vadas staying tonight. We’ll be home in like twenty.” Mia’s voice is slurred slightly.

“Ok just get home safely.” I reply and I can hear the rolling of her eyes. “Just because your a minute and thirty seconds older doesn’t mean I’m a fetus. Relax.” She scoffs before hanging up.

I smile softly at her drunk bickering before leaning my head against the armrest of the couch. Vada. I may or may not have a tiny crush on the small brunette girl. Since the shooting her and Mia had become inseparable, and she had been at our house every day which is given me enough time to be somewhat smitten.

“Hellooo.” Mias voice echoes through the house as she bursts through the front door. “Living room.” I yell back taking another sip of my drink.

Mia appears first, hair disheveled and stance wobbly. But the person I was really looking at stood slightly behind Mias tall stature, Vada looked somewhat the same, her hair pulled up into a messy bun and her outfit stained with what looked like a variety of different alcohols.

“Hey Vads.” I smirk waving at the shorter girl who seems to blush slightly, an awkward hand rising to wave back. “We are going to shower. And then we will come find you for a drink partay.” Mia spins in a circle, almost tripping over her own feet as she giggles like a small child.

I roll my eyes at my sister who tugs on Vadas wrist pulling her up the stairs, my eyes following her tiny figure until they disappear.

As soon as they disappear my eyes widen. “Shit I forgot to ask Mia.” I slap my forehead and down the liquid in my cup (with disgust) before scrambling off the couch and up the stairs.

I think the drink had taken its effect slightly as I became oblivious to the shower running, and instead burst into Mias bedroom.

“Hey have you got any we-“ I trail off as Mia is no where to be found, instead a half naked Vada dressed only in shorts and a bra stands with flushed cheeks beside Mias bed.

“Oh shit sorry, I was just gonna ask if you guys had any weed.” I duck my head down and go to close the door when Vadas voice stops me.

“It’s in her dresser, and it’s ok. We are both girls anyway and I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of girls in bras. Not saying that your a slut or anything because your not. Well you could be I don’t know. But like-“ Vada continues to ramble as I smirk, slowly opening the door again and trying not to let my eyes drift to her chest.

Shifting through Mias draw I finally find her stash while Vada continues to talk. “Vada. Honestly. Shut up.” I laugh watching her face go red. “Sorry, I ramble when I’m drunk or around hot people. Not saying that your hot. Well you are but like it’s different cause I’m also like kind of drunk.” She begins again and I chuckle at her rigid stance.

Moving slightly closer to the girl I raise an eyebrow. “So you think I’m hot?” I whisper. That causes Vada to shut up, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. I open my own mouth to speak again when Mias voice stops me.

“Oh my god. Stop hitting on Vada Y/N. And is that my weed?” She stalks over, dressed in only a towel and pushes me towards her door. “Give me my weed.” Her hand opens towards me palm flat as I stand at her door occasionally glancing over at Vada who remains red and frozen.

“Love you Mia.” I turn on my heel ignoring Mias curses as she slams her door closed. Holding the weed in one hand I head back to the living room and grab the rolling papers stashed in our cupboard.

…..

“Give it back. I swear to god Y/N. Or at least give us a hit.” Mia groans now fully dressed and standing over me as I tilt my head up at her batting my eyelashes innocently.

“You may have a hit.” I hold out the joint to her and she scoffs snatching it from my hands and placing it in her mouth. “Your infuriating.”

Mia inhales and gestures over to Vada who joins me on the couch, a safe distance between us causing me to feel slightly upset. “Here.” Mia hands the joint to Vada who inhales with a slight cough. “Right now I’m going to piss. Save me another puff.” Mia glares at me before heading back up the stairs.

“Here.” Vada passes me the joint blushing as our hands ghost over one another.

“Thanks.” I grin at her and inhale letting the high wash over me like a wave.

Vada remains silent for a moment and I can almost hear the gears in her head churning as she thinks of what to say next. Her eyes drift over to my face as she turns her body so it’s angled slightly further my way.

“You are hot by the way. Like just in case you didn’t understand what I meant earlier. Like your hot to everyone. Not just me. Not that I find you like hot in the ‘I like you’ way but like-“

My head turns to face Vada as she rambles her eyes finding a way to look at every other surface in the room but mine. I grin slightly before sighing. “Fuck it.”

With swift movements I cup Vadas face moving my lips to meet hers cutting off her ramble. Her eyes widen for a second before her lips begin to move against mine. A second passes before I pull back reality hitting me. “Oh shit. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that. I kinda just thought about doing it and it happened.” It’s my turn to ramble as Vada watches me with red cheeks.

Her hands find my my face, abruptly cutting off my rambling as she pulls me back to her lips. “I didn’t mind.” She smiles pulling back after another second.

I laugh relief flooding over my body as I lean my head against her shoulder. “Let me take you out? Like on a date yeah? So I can show you it’s not just the weed making me feel like this.” I look up at her to see her cheeks flushed as she nods.

“Red looks good on you.” I chuckle gently caressing her face.

She simply groans in embarrassment.

“Shut up asshole.”

I bite back a smile and place another kiss on her lips.

“So this Tuesday. Me and you. On a date.” I whisper.

“Sounds like a plan.”

[base0h]

Hey Evou!! I was surfing YouTube and came across vr videos of people playing scary games (mainly Fnaf which I will vouch for is TERRIFYING in vr I was literally shaking the last time I played it 💀) so I came to ask, how do you think the monster trio + Kidd and Law and whoever else you want, would do playing Fnaf, Help wanted in vr? Thanks in advance!

a/n - hi anime!! omg pls I’ve played horror games on Roblox with my 8 year old cousin and I was literally shaking while trying not to cry 💀 tysm for thé request! I hope you’re doing well 💜💜💜💜 I’ve never played fnaf and I don’t think I ever will 😭

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, I bully kid

- if you thought you knew curse words? No you didn’t

- “FUCKSHIT- STUPIDASS MF-!”

- “SHITFACE! YOU LITTLE FURRY PUSSY-!”

- … I cant think of anymore

- he sounds like this and literally breaks your eardrums

- “NO IM NOT SCARED Y/N SHUT UP!”

- “You need to hold my hand?…”

- “Tch- just shut it.”

- *literally squeezing your hand to death*

- he’s screaming at literally the tiniest noises 😭😭😭

- he’s hid behind you a couple times on accident too

- literally not scared??

- “HAHAHAAA- y/n this dude’s funny! He has a funny hat! Oh I died. This game’s boring- let’s play Mario kart!”

- “OH MY GOSH THERE’S PIZZA!”

- “why does it say I died again?..”

- “Y/n there’s a duck staring at me.”

- “ITS NAMED CHUCK BAHAHAHAH-!”

- you’re absolutely shocked- this man was not afraid in the slightest

- he only kept dying bec he got distracted by all the little items around him

- “Can I turn lights on? It’s dark.”

- “that’s the whole point Lu.”

- “That’s stupid- how can you see anything?? Oop something just appeared?”

- “y/n is this a furry game?”

- “are you a furry?”

- 💀

- while he’s wearing the headset he has no sense of his surroundings so he’s broken a lot of things 😭

- that vase? In pieces

- your wooden coffee table? Knocked over

- the chair? Moved at least 20 ft away

- man has the audacity to take off the headset and look at you with a confused face

- “y/n what did you do to the room? Hehe! You have weird hobbies.. I’m gonna go grab some snacks!!!”

- … you’re about to punch him so hard that even nami can’t compete

- about to shit his pants

- visibly shaking as he’s clutching onto your arm

- could only play for a couple minutes before he had to cuddle you for a couple hours

- “uh y/n- is this to test my bravery because I promise there are better ways to- GAHSHAUBEIDBSIDBISBEIFB-!”

- literally trying to punch the air in front of him😭

- he only agreed to play bec Zoro challenged him saying that obviously “I’m braver than you- twirly eyebrows.” “HUH?!”

- oh it was on

- both of them lost

- Luffy won

- if you think you’re bad at games- compared to smoker? No you’re not

- “Y/n what does this button do?”

- “I’m stuck at the pause screen.”

- “I cant read that fast how the hell do you pause it??”

- pls he can’t understand what the fuck he has to do in the game

- literally about to punch the TV when the characters jump outta nowhere

- “Y/n it’s biting my toes?!”

- “What is this game?! Why does it look real?!”

- literally his blood pressure is going to skyrocket

- frantically waving his bulky ass arms around in attempt to try and escape and not die

- going to have a stroke please give him some water

- you’re going to have to hold his hand and pat his back for a while after 😭 he’s lowkey traumatized by screens

- he’s also one of those guys who can’t figure out how tf to turn off his phone flashlight 💀

a/n - sorry anime I did random characters 😭

[jivvie]

okay so quick side note before I get into MY HEAD… THE DOGS DIED SOBB THORGI MY BELOVED

vij’s thoughts on mcd season 1

from the beginning I LOVED the whole aspect of the role playing. It felt like a visual novel and I LOVE visual novels. If mcd becomes a game or book YES PLEASEEE

it was super interesting to learn more about Irene. In mystreet, we don’t really learn about her backstory so it was nice to learn about things that fit in the mystreet universe

100 episodes is A LOT and I thought fillers were fine. It definitely felt like a RPG game with all the tasks Aphmau had to do

Dude when Zane finally spoke his first line, I KICKED MY FEET AND SCREAMED INTO MY PILLOW YALL

Garroth was a little baby bitch at the end istg i wanted to punch his face but i guess he sacrificed himself for the group

Aaron is very unremarkable. Little emo boy. I’m guessing he has more screen time next season? ALSO HE HAD A WIFE AND A KID TF

still not a laurmau fan. SORRY GUYS but I just hate flirty guys and I feel like he’s also the reason for pushing garroth away from aphmau by like taking initiative. I guess thats why people are like yass Laurence but personally nah

I like how slowly you could realize that this series got more serious. like more ideas and thought put in for bg characters, even though they weren't "important"

Dante. MAKING HIM WAIT FOR 15 YEARS SOB. And I like how it seeps into mystreet as well

MAN ZANE AS LIKE JUST A VILLAIN YESSS. I hope he does not get redeemed and is just a bad guy

favorite character would have to be Donna. I really liked her character!! Sassy women <333

also omg legit forgot half of the villagers. like... who tf is corey???? is it molly or emma thats married to him??? too many damn pretty blonde women

babe house. just babe house.

i liked unhinged aphmau. its more funny now thinking about this compared to her newer content

at the end, i think i just cried for a minute or two. not only because i finished 100 episodes, but more that i miss aphmau's old content. her roleplay series is legit what got me through my childhood. and its very unlikely she'll return to this kind of content or similar roleplays.

like s7 is probably only here to satisfy us old hungry aphmau fans, but like MID?? no news whatsoever about it.

ANYWAYS I LOVED IT SO MUCH!! it was nice to just boot up an episode and just draw while watching. i might release some mcd doodles if i feel like it :P

i never tried mcd because im not a fantasy reader, but i pushed myself out of my comfort zone and im glad i did!! 10/10 would probably not do again because 100 eps are too much for me sob

[likeadog]

making a copy of this bc op disabled reblogs and i just got reminded it existed and would like to not lose it

ok so . im outing myself to the world but thats fine this is too funny to not share

so. ive run a roleplay blog for a few years. i keep it separate from my main, yknow, its just a side hobby and ive been doing it since i was like, 12. its cringe but hey yknow at least im not 30 and writing ya novels

now its pretty common for rp blogs these days to have rules. right? you dont want to just bag any weirdo on this website, and as you can imagine bnha roleplayers are batshit crazy (see: conversion therapy todoroki) so mine are pretty strict and detailed. because ive been doing it long enough to be exposed to what counts as carbon monoxide poison from a screen. one of those rules is "if youre mutuals with people who write porn of the kids even aged up im blocking you we're keeping a ten foot pole on this". because as a 20 year old man i have a healthy disinterest in seeing paragraphs of teenagers fucking

so the dash is astir with talk of a guy writing age up bakugou porn and im like ok whatever. make a post bitching about it . mutual likes those posts but then the mutual is turning around and being buddy buddy with this guy so i dm the mutual like hey whats going on here . mutual is like "well why dont you talk it out with him hes not as mean as he seems i prommy" and im like sure whatever i can have civil conversation and if it ends with One Less Person writing weirdo porn then i might be able to get into heaven

so i dm him and he loses his fucking mind. it lasted all of 10 minutes because he was sending paragraphs like this and i was too tired to give a shit

(take note of my icon thats a special tool thatll help us later)

(also he goes by the name rxgelord. WITH the x. thats also important just because its funny as fuck)

so the guys clearly bothered by the idea that people might possibly talk about him without his permission and im a little miffed after being misgendered (which hed do again later) so i just post our dms. swing first and hey batter batter lets play ball i dont give a shit this is bnha roleplay

once again: loses his damn mind. he makes a psa post about me talking about how im just some pussy infant and hes too HARD for me and shit and also they do bakudeku muffin roleplay in the comments of that post which is fucking insane

anyway. at one point while joking about the whole thing i called him a "wannabe bakugou kinnie" as a joke and apparently he felt a very serious need to address this

and im like holllllllllllllly fucking shit

you may have noticed that his posts are incredibly over-formatted. this goes for everything he does he is pouring a LOT of time and energy into typing his 9 paragraphs about how im an insane bitch or whatever. (if theres literally one thing i can give him credit on its that his graphic editing skills are kinda good. i will be honest) his rules document is also just as insane and features gems such as:

(this dude thinks hes pulling bitches on a bnha roleplay blog)

so we're just full on ragging on him at this point and hes getting MADDDDDDD MAD. he misgenders me again and when i point it out he has the following excuse:

(art by @/pcktknife. anyways)

after a certain point i get dmd an old copy of a 130+ page callout he had a year prior and im like WHAT and it included his yugioh rp blog career and various allegations like having been involved in gang violence, doxxing, etc. also a picture of the hickies he bragged about leaving on his uwu pink glitter gf which looked more like he was trying to go for the killing bite but hey. yknow. apparently im a toddler idk how that works

along in this we also find his twitch account, which was under the name rxgelord, and it featured edited graphics of his real life face with bakugou. he posts selfies a lot too i wont share them even if theyre public but he has knuckle tats and a goatee and uses the greyscale filter. if this gives you an idea. he also had 5 twitch followers and detailed his desire to be a rapper/dj and im like holllllly fucking shit this guy cant be a real person. holy fuck.

anyways. skipping a lot of unnecessary bullshit and paragraphs of text with gifs from 2013 attached hes constantly going on about how we wont just "say it to his face" which i think is hilarious bc i was, the entire time. but im like ok fine you want me so bad

so i send him this. he posts about how "he won when he got all might" (for some reason hes calling my ex mutual by the character name. i dont know) and then hasnt posted in 4 days. he deleted his twitch. im a little worried bakugou. dont say that. may have actually chased this man off the internet . to go have real life sex with his real life girlfriend so he isnt so mad

anyway we ended up turning one of his posts into an eminem uberduck

im honestly probably forgetting something this was so much and it was so fucking funny and honestly im glad to have been there

update: he has not in fact posted since last summer. god bless.

[ignooy-nim]

‘Scrawny’ - Yang Jeongin Story

> chapter four - sweet talk

tw / cw : slight cursing, awkward encounter ... SLOW-BURN

story summary : jeongin never thought he'd ever find what he was looking for, but all along it was at the convenience store. / mia hated the re-runs of sappy kdramas that would play on the tv at the convenience store; that is, until her life became a sappy kdrama.

a/n : hey guys! - sorry its been so long since I last posted... I've been struggling a lot with finding inspiration, but with all the support I’ve been receiving on my hiatus, I finally decided to bite the bullet and start writing again even if I'm not 100% satisfied with the outcome. I hate to admit it, but I'm very much so a perfectionist and a "control freak", so writing fics such as this one usually takes me a while to do. regardless, I want to thank you all for your immense amount of support, and for sticking with me for this journey! hope you enjoy! ♡

ps, this story takes takes place around mid - late 2019, and will continue into 2020 - 2022

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> “When you laugh, I forget that it's about me, but it's alright, 'cause being your punchline still is something.” - ‘sweet talk’, saint motel

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Running around her dorm room like a chicken without its head, Mia hurriedly searches for her missing platform boot, already five minutes late to her shift.

“Nisa, are you sure it isn’t under your bed?” She asked her roommate for the ump-teenth time that night.

With a roll of her eyes, Nisa spun on her heels to face Mia, “Yes, I’m sure - I know I’m messy, but please cut me some slack!” She began to check inbetween her dresser and the heater that sat flat against the wall. “Why don’t you just wear a different pair of shoes?”

“Because,” The smaller of the two girls mumbled shamefully,  “fashion…” Ending her statement with a shrug of her shoulders, Mia locked eyes with her roommate who gave her a death glare.

Giving up on her help to the search for the missing boot, Nisa deadpans, “Dude… I’m sure your uncle won’t fire you for violating fashion law!”

Mia sighs and lets out a groan before kicking off her singular boot, “Fine!” Instead, she pulls on her black converse yet again.

“I don’t know why you are trying to make such a big effort, you’re just going to work!” Nisa sighed, plopping down onto her mattress.

Mia stomped her shoe onto her foot, “I’m not trying to make an effort - just trying to look presentable…”

Nisa rolled her eyes, “‘Presentable’ my ass, Mia! You’re just hoping that your weird little boyfriend stops by again.” She grinned at her roommate who was putting her second shoe on.

With a huff Mia straightens her posture and responds, “You mean Mr. Kim don’t you? Too bad he already dropped off this week’s shipment.” The young girl feigned a sad expression while discussing the old, cranky delivery driver that provides fresh fish to the convenience store weekly.

“Oh damn! That’s a hunk of a man if I’ve ever seen one, with his.. toothlessness and his alluring odor of fish… such a delite”

The two girls broke into a fit of laughter as Mia’s phone began to ring. The screen showed the familiar face of one of her cousins, Jinyoung. She quickly composed herself to answer the call.

“Hello?” She spoke, already knowing why he was calling her out of the blue. In a haste motion she gathered her backpack, jacket, nametag and dorm key.

“Miyeon, where the hell are you? Your shift started 10 minutes ago!” The older man spoke frantically.

Mia gave a quick wave to her roommate who was still lounging on her bed, before escaping the room and speed walking to work. “I’m on my way, Jinyoung, I had a bit of uhm… an emergency.”

He scoffed before responding, “Seriously? I don’t know how my father lets you keep this job, you’re never here!”

“Never there?” Mia began to feel heated at her cousin’s words as she descended the steps of her dorm building, “I’m always there Jin! Who do you think works the night shifts when you’re in dreamland? Oh yeah — me.”

“Whatever, I’m keeping the tips I made during these 10 minutes, and you’re paying me back out of your paycheck.” Jinyoung was going to end the call, but spat back one last remark, “You know, Miyeon, some of us adults actually have lives to live outside of the store. You can’t be this selfish child much longer. Get here, now.”

Mia felt her face grow red with anger as her cousin hung up on her. The cool, fall air brushed her cheeks, soothing her raging mind. ‘Who the hell does he think he is? Just because he’s older doesn’t mean that my time is any less important’, she thought to herself.

Granted, she knows that she does have a tendency to ignore reality, but who’s to say that this is the wrong way to live?

‘Jinyoung has no idea what my life is like; he’s old, and graduated and has a fancy job at a tech firm. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have a life to live outside of the convenience store too… I just don’t live his life’ Mia continued to rant to herself, attempting to calm herself down for her shift, pinning her name tag into her shirt and tying her hair back, already dreading this day of work.

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Jeongin knew he was a man on a mission the second his band member, Lee Know, had asked for him to go to the store and to pick up some more milk. Jeongin knew that he didn’t have to go to the small convenience store down the street and that he could easily avoid it all together by taking the longer venture to the supermarket instead. Jeongin knew that the likelihood of Mia being there was slim to none, seeing as he hadn’t run into her during his many ventures down the street since the night he made a complete and utter fool of himself by dumping dozens of candy packets onto the floor in front of her. Jeongin knew that his excitement was juvenile and that his hopes were too high for the average person, but yet, here he is, taking the short trek to the store that he grew to know over the span of a month.

Something inside of Jeongin made him feel somewhat obsessive, like he couldn’t just go to another store without feeling unfulfilled afterwards. It made him feel dumb and embarassed whenever his band members asked if he wanted to go to the convenience store with them and he stuttered out a ‘no’. The same way their babying made him feel, like he was incapable of handling things like a normal person does — debilitating him completely.

He hated the way the store made him feel, but mostly he hated how this girl — this stranger — was stuck on his mind every hour of his day. It felt like wasted time; time he will never get back from her as she probably couldn’t care less about Jeongin or his sleepless nights. She was just there to make a sale, and that was evident.

Becoming an idol alone is hard enough; harsh diets and endless schedules making up his adolescence. Of course the reward was good, and the hard work benefited his career, but two years of being told “you aren’t good enough” can do wonders to a person’s psyche, and to this date, Jeongin can still feel the effects of all his hard work.

Since day one, Jeongin found that the rules of idolship were simple:

Rule #1: Always stay smiling — your image is everything, you don’t want people to think you are unapproachable, do you?

Rule #2: Practice makes perfect — if you have time to relax, you have time to practice, and not a second should be wasted.

Rule #3: No distractions — this includes drugs, alcohol, and dating. Any of these three things could get you into a world of hurt, and clog your perception of what really matters; your work.

Jeongin felt as if he maintained his part of the Stray Kids title decently; he smiled when on camera and when in public, he had never experimented with substances even though most of his bandmates were of drinking age and had alcohol in the dorm. He even worked until his bones were sore and his lungs heaving for air. Was he really ready to risk his image on some girl? Some girl who probably didn’t even want anything to do with him?

Jeongin was a man on a mission to put his life back on track and to take a hold of this situation as he had no room for error in his idol life. Simply, his goal was to dismantle his irrational fear of embarrassment for once and for all.

The bell above the door of the convenience store rang out, announcing his entrance to everyone in the small establishment. Jeongin tried keeping his head held high, training his eyes out towards the expanse of aisle before him, but that focus faltered when his foot caught on a small hump in the rain mat on the floor, taking him down face-first onto the shiny tiles.

Gasps and exclamations were shared as the elderly man with graying hair who worked at the shop rushed towards the younger boy.

“Son, what happened? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly, helping Jeongin to his feet.

The younger boy’s hand rushed to the mask covering his face which had a small patch of blood growing on it.

“I’m okay! It was my fault”. He spoke nervously, realizing that the store was packed at this hour and that all eyes were on him.

All eyes on him. That’s something Jeongin was sure he’d be used to by now. The roar of the crowd, packed stadiums full of faces he could barely make out; faces he barely knew. Granted, as a kid, he was sociable, never backing down from making friends or speaking in class, but as they say, the oldest child does it first and best, the youngest can do no wrong, and the middle child is forgotten. So, why is it now, that all of these eyes stare Jeongin down as if he’s a forgotten kid that’s been sitting in the lost-and-found box since he was born? Why is it they see him now, when all goes wrong? Why does it always seem to go wrong?

The older man’s face showed fear, as he ushered Jeongin into the bathroom to help clean him up a little. “No no no, here let me help you, son. Gosh, I’m so sorry about this.”

Hesitantly, Jeongin removed his face mask once he was in the safety of the bathroom. Once he caught his reflection in the mirror he almost passed out from seeing the amount of blood that was flowing from his aching nose.

The man grabbed a clump of paper towels and ran them under the cold water to clean the blood up before he opened the small first aid kit that was under the counter.

“I keep on telling Ara that we need a new mat for the floor, but does she ever listen? - “ The man spoke rhetorically, rummaging around the kit for peroxide to clean around the area.

Silence fell in the bathroom as Jeongin let the man fix him up, in his mind however, he was cursing himself in every way imaginable. ‘How could I be so stupid?’ he continuously repeated to himself, allowing for the pain in his nose to count as a type of punishment for believing that he could ever confidently face his fears.

The man before him hummed before placing the bloody tissues into the trash, “Well, I’m no doctor, but I used to be a nurse during my time in the military, I saw many a broken nose, so I think I can safely say that you are one of the lucky ones.” He sighed before continuing, “While I don’t see a break, I’m still going to have to call you an ambulance.”

“No!” Jeongin spoke a little too hastily, “I mean, thank you, sir, but I should be fine..”

“Are you sure? You took quite the spill!” The man asked with his eyebrows raised, packing up the first aid kit just as it once was.

“Yes, I’m sure I’m ok..” He responded kindly.

The gray haired man nodded, respecting the request of his customer, “Well okay, but you must stay for a while to make sure you’re fine to continue on with your day… Here, follow me.”

The two emerged from the bathroom to a much less packed storefront. A younger boy with an eyebrow piercing and a pink streak in his hair now manned the cash register. Jeongin, being fearful of someone recognizing him, attempted to shrink into himself as the man led him to a stool close to the front counter.

“Sit here, I’ll grab you some ice.” The man, who’s name tag read ‘Peter’, instructed his customer in a comforting manner.

Jeongin relaxed onto the stool, avoiding eye contact with the boy with the pink hair, however he had other plans.

“You good?” he asked, leaning on the counter to get a better look at him, turning all his attention on the bloody man before him as the store was now empty aside from a few patrons in the back eating their lunches.

“Just great..” Jeongin spoke, now sounding bitter at his circumstance.

A pig-like snort caught his attention. The pink haired boy replied snarkily, “You look it.”

Before Jeongin could comprehend what the other boy had said, a door had slammed from the backroom followed by screaming.

The cashier before him barely flinched at this outbreak as he rolled his eyes and spoke under his breath, “Here we go again…”

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A lot could be done in 15 minutes — you could walk a mile, or make several bowls of cereal, but according to Mia’s cousin, 15 minutes can be life or death.

“Look who finally decided to show!” Jinyoung patronized Mia as she entered through the backdoor of the convenient store. “How was your leisurely walk here? Smell any sweet roses on the way? Or did you purposely take small steps just to bust my chops?”

“Listen, Jinyoung, I —” Mia started just to be interrupted.

“That’s all it is with you, isn’t it, Miyeon?” He rolled his eyes, slinging a dish towel over his shoulder. “You’re still so young, you think the world revolves around you, and only you. Well, guess what, cousin; it doesn’t. Time doesn’t stop just because you need extra sleep, and people don’t stop living their lives just because you broke a nail… Even Jiwon sees it, and he’s sixteen!”

A pink-haired Jiwon poked his head into the backroom momentarily, “Don’t bring me into this.”

Jinyoung continued, “Everyone gives you a ‘pass’ since your mom left —”

Dal, the dishwasher, interjected, “Jinyoung!”

“No, I don’t care, it’s no excuse for you to get off easy and to just act like a spoiled little brat all the damn time! The rest of us here are adults — this is either our full time job or the warm-up to our full time jobs, we aren’t all spoiled, good-for-nothing part timers such as yourself-”

“Good-for-nothing?!” Mia shouted back, “Who was the one who came up with the new frozen section delivery plan? Me. Who cleans the coffee machines when the rest of you assholes don’t want to get dirt under your nails? Me. And who covers every single shift that would belong to our other employees, if someone hadn’t pushed them so hard they quit? Oh, yeah, that’s still me.. I know you have your big boy, water jug glugging, pinstripe tie wearing job 25-hours a day, but I have school, Jinyoung! I have my future to worry about -”

Her older cousin let out a snort, “‘School’, if that’s what you wanna call it, Miyeon. Your father is paying practically his entire life savings on a glorified preschool… A ‘future’ painting stick figures, huh-” he chuckled to himself, “I think it’s time you get your head out of the clouds and wake the hell up, Miyeon.”

With the final word, Jinyoung hastily left the store through the door Mia had entered through, leaving her with a bitter taste on her tongue and hatred in her heart.

This is not the first time Mia and her cousin had ruffled eachother’s feathers, and it certainly won’t be the last. Since she could remember, her and all of her cousins were always measured against Jinyoung’s accomplishments, with him being the oldest and all. ‘Oh, Jinyoung, you’re so great! You learned how to tie your shoes faster than all the other little boys and girls in your preschool — here’s a gold star!’, ‘Oh, Jinyoung, you’re so amazing, you graduated top of your class with all ‘A’s — here, take my sports car!’, ‘Oh, Jinyoung, you’re so special, you know just how to kiss my ass as your boss — here, take my first born child, my wife, my house, and my big fancy yacht! You deserve it!’.

‘Oh, just fucking bite me’, Mia thought to herself, tying her apron on before clocking in for the day, as Dal looked on with a pitiful gaze as he too got back to work.

Mia swiftly exited the backroom and jumped on the cash register, filling Jiwon’s previous place behind the counter.

“Hi, how may I help you?” She asked in her ‘as-sweet-as-pie’ customer service voice to an elderly woman.

The woman looked startled, as the younger girl popped out of seemingly nowhere, yet, she answered kindly, “I just would like one coffee.” After Mia had rang her up and told her her total, the woman gestured to the door she had just emerged from, “Rough day?”

Collecting the money the woman laid out for her, Mia replied, “Eh, you know — family business”.

The woman nodded in response, allowing for the younger girl to concentrate on counting the change. Jiwon, still standing in the front of the store, pushed himself off of the counter and started walking towards the back door.

“You have this covered, Mia?” He asked thoughtfully. In response, he just got a nod back and a wave of her hand. “Alright then…” Jiwon turned around briefly, “Good luck with the nose”.

After she handed the woman her money back and Jiwon had fled the scene, Mia looked in the direction her cousin was just speaking, and to her surprise, there sat Jeongin attempting to fold his body in on itself in pure embarrassment.  

“Hello again.” Mia spoke jovially, with a hint of laughter evident in her voice. She, like her cousin once had, leaned her elbows on the countertop, observing the boy.

“Hi” Jeongin spoke, allowing for his rosy cheeks to do the talking, wishing to be just about anywhere else at that moment.

“So...” She began, as the final customer of the last shift left the store. “What happened to your nose?” 

Sighing, Jeongin remained facing forward before responding, “I uh... uhmm”, contemplating on how to explain the occurrences without sounding completely lame. 

“You get into a fight? Beat his ass?” Mia mused, trying to make Jeongin smile or at least feel a little better. 

“Uh- uhm.. Yeah. Just - you should see the other guy” He breathed out a laugh, as Mia nodded along barely believing his story, but not wanting to hurt his feelings. 

Just then, Mia’s Uncle Peter walks up to the younger boy with an icepack in-hand, “Here you go, son. Again, so sorry about that, I keep on telling my wife that we need to get another mat, but she says it is out of financial plan for this month. Trust me you are not the first to take a spill on this thing”, he explained, kicking the rubber mat with his foot. 

Jeongin on the other hand, could not possibly get any more red. “Oh, uh, that’s alright.” He held onto the ice pack tightly, making his fingers turn as white as snow. 

With a comforting tap on Jeongin’s back, Peter exited through the backdoor, more than likely going to call his wife about the accident that had occurred in their shop, leaving Mia and the young boy alone in the front of the shop. 

“The mat, huh?” The young girl spoke, pushing herself off of the counter and walking around to the front door. Stepping on the mat, she tried smoothing out the bumps before watching them take form again. “Yeah, this mat has definitely attempted to murder me before. It’s honestly even worse right after we just got done mopping, because then the floor is all slippery on top of the crappy mat... Glad you’re not dead though.” 

“Yeah.. Me too..” Jeongin spoke, feeling a little bit better about himself. 

“Let’s see it, then” Mia walked up to face the boy, looking closely at his nose. After a brief inspection she hummed, and commented, “Looks good”, before locking eyes with him and giving a warm smile. 

Any and all calmness in Jeongin’s body fled as he stared into Mia’s eyes. Like a desert storm, he felt his tongue dry up as her electric eyes struck his, each blink shaking his soul like thunder with chills running up his arms like soft raindrops. Suddenly the world was frozen in their own little oasis, and he knew, that ‘Rule #3′ is going to be much harder than anticipated.  

Mia, on the other hand, found Jeongin’s eyes to look like something you’d see in the Louvre; an oil painting hanging in the dim sun light, filling her body with warmth - but not too much, she hates to sweat. 

Pulling away, Mia let out a small laugh to cover her own nervousness, “Did my uncle call you an ambulance, or do you just like hanging around a convenience store all evening?” She walked back around the counter to claim her own seat near the register. 

“He, uh...” Jeongin cleared his throat before continuing, “He wanted to, but since it’s not broken I said it was ok. He just didn’t want me leaving just in case.” 

“I see...” Mia nodded. “Well you’re lucky to have fallen when he was here, and not just my dumb ass cousin” She mumbled the last bit to herself, before trying to find something to busy herself with.

Jeongin, wishing to continue their conversation, asked “Was that the guy you were fighting with?” 

Truth be told, he has never wanted to hit himself more in his entire life after seeing Mia’s reaction to his question.

“You heard that?” She turned to him again. “Oh, well that’s just great”. 

“No, I-I-I mean, I just, I had a feeling -” He started, wanting to console her like she had for him, but falling flat. 

“He really is an asshole, you know?” Mia grabbed a broom from behind the counter and started sweeping, “Like, who does this bastard think he is, telling me that my education doesn’t matter? Just because I’m not someone who glues my nose to a math book doesn’t mean that my future means any less. And to bring up my mom? Oh, that - that... UGH!!! I just hate him!” She threw the broom down, sitting back on her stool attempting to cool herself down before exploding in front of the boy.

Jeongin assessed the situation, watching her breathe heavily. Admittedly, he was still trying to catch up, as he got taken back by her swearing, but he knew he had to say something. And it had to be good. 

“Some people just don’t understand the importance of the liberal arts... I mean, they consume these things day-in and day-out without a single thought of praise, yet when they speak to the creators, it’s suddenly shameful to even take part in something so... ‘barbaric’. It is really stupid, and even with my job people don’t always understand, and they tease and curse at us for every little thing, and some people when you tell them that you’re an artist they laugh like your just a silly kid with these crazy dreams, when you know deep down that you might just have something special. Even if it’s small and still growing with the passing days, it’s still special. I guess, we just have to learn how to not care. Because people are going to talk regardless.”

Mia listened intently before asking curiously, “What’s your job?”

“Oh-...” Jeongin froze, realizing that he had already said too much. 

‘How on earth do I get myself out of this one?’ He asked himself before carefully deciding his words.

“I am... a .. musician” 

“You sure about that?” She asked, laughing at his stuttered answer. 

Not wanting to risk himself giving away his identity as an idol even more, Jeongin just nodded in response. 

“What kind of music?” 

Shit. Shit. Shit. “Uhm.. it’s like, hip-hop, rock, EDM -”

“You make EDM?” Mia asked incredulously.

Jeongin turned himself to be facing in her direction, “Not necessarily, I mean, my friends make the music, I sing.”

“You sing... to EDM?” Mia laughed, now imagining this shy boy singing to an EDM song.

“Y-Yes?” He responded, now just realizing how silly it sounds, cringing at the fact that what he told her was actually true. 

Simmering down from her fit of laughter, Mia looked back at the boy across the counter, “You are an enigma, Jeongin”. 

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> MASTERLIST

tag-list: @lovely-manette @jeonstresour @yeongstar @mariafeh @super-btstrash-posts @stray-kids-goddess @peterballardsgf @vixensss​

(dm / comment if you want to be added to the tag-list)

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[0fps]

okayyyy i finally finished the main wuwa story. thoughts (brain dump) below, obviously spoilers so read at your own risk

acts 5 and 6 definitely >>>>>>>>>>>>>> the others. idk if it's because i had digested the world building a bit more by then but they felt way more engaging than the previous acts

partly because all the interesting parties (for me) were finally here. the black shores, jiyan's whole deal. scar was the most interesting of the previous acts but honestly idrgaf about him aksdjflads

dude was not even RELEVANT in these acts they really meant it when they put his ass in jail

i am quite interested in the black shores, hope to see more of them

otherwise just having to do everything with the starter group was boring as hell especially since they all have extremely flat characterizations (yangyang particularly. WHY did she of all people have to be our token partner).

disclaimer, i don't exactly hate yangyang but in general it just feels so unrealistically forced how her and chixia immediately treat mc like their best friend. we barely know each other. i think this is the part that got last-minute rewritten to make them overbearingly nice and it really shows (?? correct me if i'm wrong. idk if it's specifically those two who got rewritten)

i play in the mandarin dub btw. because apparently that's critical for yangyang ajdflkjf

as for the other characters. aalto and encore are so funny together, absolutely loved them. just their characters alone doing their whole comedy routine made act 5 a lot of fun

act 6 was obviously the climax, and i enjoyed it for what it is, but i also felt like it dragged on? like. you'd THINK after we meet up with jiyan we'd immediately go confront the threnodian like asap? they keep spouting how "time is of the essence" but hold on we gotta do all these sidequests?? repair shit?? come on yall LMAO

like the part where we're coming up with our "battle strategy" (which lol. yeah the ranged units should probably attack from a range. only the greatest tactical minds could come up with this) HONESTLY they should have black screened that shit or summarized it in like a few sentences. that was so ?????????? why am i even here.

ofc the cannon thing or whatever is out of power mortefi. of course it is.

i was enjoying act 6 pretty much until this part. then i was like really. REALLY we gotta do all this first I WANT TO GO FIGHT THE BOSS NOWWWWW

idk it just felt like they hyped us up almost immediately for a final battle but then edged us on for forever? the pacing felt weirdly backwards if you know what i mean

i was also just laughing at how concerned they were about the disrupter missing its target. like. you guys are aiming at a giant ball on the horizon you gotta be trying REALLY hard to miss this. the cutscene that showed how small the cannon was in comparison to the force field did not help adjksflasd. maybe if they were talking about the other 2 shots then sure.

once the cannon was repaired and that was over and our 4-man team was finally on their way i was back into it though

really really loved the pulling mechanic thing

however it was just another strike in which i've noticed that this game tends to overexplain some of the gameplay. that pulling mechanic was definitely one thing, the whole "battle strategy" part was another, and the one with the library in one of the previous acts was HORRENDOUS they may as well have reached out of the computer screen and held my hand

literally the only time i respected yangyang was when she decided to stay behind to hold off the enemies. bc istg if she was the one we had to do the final boss with. god. lord. hold me back from the violence i would have committed.

boss battle was a lot of fun. got my ass kicked by threnodian bc i couldn't read its moves but they made it easy to not die 👍

the little. pet thing. that eats the big echos. sooooooo unserious HAHAHAHA AJSDKLJFALD. i'm not going to think about it too hard.

was kind of weird to end that on a montage through a story teller. like i was expecting SOME sort of epilogue but it really went "yup. that's over! go play the rest of the game now"

anyways. despite my grievances i had fun with it HAHA 👍👍👍

i really enjoyed that it did cycle through a lot of story-relevant characters to trial with. it helps that i find all of them super fun to play and it helps keep things super immersive (although i did miss my girl danjin)

a similar thing i really loved was how involved almost every single playable character was

in general a detail i really like is that npcs/playable characters battle alongside you (even in the overworld) - it really makes it feel more immersive and you're part of a team, not just solo'ing everything by yourself

although it was also too early in the story for me to feel. much about everyone helping us out in the beginning. like i literally don't even know yuanwu??? the power ranger shot with everyone felt kinda silly as a result adjklajdfs

i also enjoyed the switching pov with jiyan. in the same vein as above it makes it feel more immersive and far less like the entire world revolves around the mc (although that's the plot device wuwa is desperately clinging onto here lol)

on that note. in general this whole story i'm just like. not really sold with the way literally everyone is so obsessed with mc its just like yeah you're PROBABLY that amazing resonator from way back when and i have a feeling a couple of these characters might have known them from before they lost their memories (esp scar?) but it just feels. very super ultra forced in a way i don't really like

but apparently that's what they're gonna use to drive the story and i can't expect them to rewrite all this (again? lol) so it is what it is i guess *shrugs*

the mc's fame will be less in your face as the story progresses and they actually DO more things. but right now its like. we just woke up and everyone is so obsessed with us lol can we have literally anybody who doesn't care or is like. this sure is fucking weird huh. for a world constantly in turmoil y'all sure are very trusting of this random person with amnesia

mc in general just feels really flat. yangyang being the token partner doesn't help because she is equally as flat. damn maybe we really do need paimon

oh also another detail that kind of bothered me. when we were talking with jinhsi early on there was a dialogue option to ask "have you found jue yet?" while EVERYONE is standing there. i thought this was a secret thing people aren't supposed to know about??? we're just talking about secrets out in the open like this?

what else. i liked the the jiyan and geshu lin phantom confrontation 👍 but it does feel like they're really leaning into the "yeah geshu lin was 99% in the wrong here and that 1% is gonna be jiyan's inner turmoil" and i was kind of hoping it'd be more complex than that

anyways if you read through all that props to you 👍

[philhoffman]

The summer is almost over and I can't leave the season without this classic—Almost Famous (2000), dir. Cameron Crowe. I used to think it was a perfect start-of-summer film, but I'm realizing may be better suited to these late August, early September weeks.

I read a comment the other day from someone who was not the biggest fan of Philip Seymour Hoffman's acting, who said the real test of his skills and legacy would be which of his performances would stand the test of time. They doubted any of them would—he didn't have any "iconic" characters, they argued.

While I obviously disagree with their entire assessment—for just one example, The Master and his other projects with PTA will be/remain classics 50 years from now—it did make me think. Phil was, though it's a touchy term, often described as a character actor. Even when he was a leading man, he wasn't playing himself. An actual quote from him in 2002 I just found: "Even if I was hired into a leading-man part, I'd probably turn it into the non-leading-man part." He doesn't have an Indiana Jones, a James Bond, but I don't think that disqualifies him from having iconic or lasting characters.

That's what came to mind rewatching Almost Famous tonight, and I might argue Lester Bangs is PSH's most iconic character. If you consider the ratio between screen time and cultural influence, there's probably zero competition among his roles—under eight minutes of screen time vs. untold thousands of people who still quote, gif, share, gif, write, post, and otherwise remember and feel inspired by his words, over two decades later. (Dusty Davis might be the second-most influential, considering how many people got into storm-chasing thanks to Twister). He's a voice for generations of music lovers, film lovers, everyone who watched Almost Famous for the first time and fell in love with its magic or sided with Bangs' cynicism.

What does it matter what some stranger on the internet says, anyway. Whether people will be watching dozens of his films in 80 years or just a few or none at all, we're watching them now. Last night I found a tribute from film critic Brian Tallerico, from the days after Phil's death: "In Mary and Max, [PSH's character] Max says... 'We can, however, choose our friends, and I am glad I have chosen you.' Hoffman felt like more of a friend than another actor. And I am glad he chose us."

Patrick Fugit, playing William Miler, was just 16 when he starred in Almost Famous, his first movie ever. Phil was violently sick with the flu while filming, sweating and shaking and throwing up between takes. But he still found time to look out for others. Patrick wrote this remembrance of working with Phil, which is making me cry a lot as I reread it tonight:

They had lit the scene quite bright from the outside and the light was just behind Philip. So every time I would look at Philip, I would start squinting and my eyes would start watering, so I would kind of look down at the paper pad to pretend I was writing. They kept telling me, “Hey, you have to look at Philip when you read your lines.” I didn’t know how to say that I can’t actually physically keep my eyes on Philip but Philip had been watching me. He’s like, “Guys, c’mon! Can’t we move the fucking light? I mean, the kid can barely look across the table!” And he and [cinematographer] John Toll kind of got into it. John was like, “We’ll adjust it a little bit but the light’s there for a reason, buddy. We got to light the scene.” Philip said, “Fuck lighting! Do you want it to look fucking good or do you want the kid to be able to act!” ... Then they’re like, “Okay, we’ll move the light,” and then we shot the scene. But it was the first time where I got in a situation where I didn’t know if I could stand up for myself. And he just stepped up and did it for me. And then he kind of looked at me and smiled and said, “Dude, if something’s bothering you, you have to speak up.” I was like, “Okay, yeah, yeah, totally.”

[agentnico]

Argylle (2024) review

Mr Cavill, you sir are fine class gentleman. But that flat-top haircut is a disgrace and you know it.

Plot: Reclusive author Elly Conway writes best-selling espionage novels about a secret agent named Argylle who's on a mission to unravel a global spy syndicate. However, when the plots of her books start to mirror the covert actions of a real-life spy organization, the line between fiction and reality begin to blur.

I have noticed critics have really been harsh on this movie, with as of this writing Argylle holds a 35% review approval from Rotten Tomatoes. It’s not that bad. In fact it’s really enjoyable. Yes, it’s really dumb, but it’s also fun. Director Matthew Vaughn’s latest is gladly a crowd-pleasing action spy flick that is full of twists and bombastic set pieces, that takes inspiration from the 1973 French comedy The Man from Acapulco starring Jean-Paul Belmondo, where the novelist too was getting mixed into their fictional created spy world. Yes, there are an abundance of twists, so much so that if you really look into it there are so many logical gaps and absurd plot holes, however this movie embraces its silliness and simply tries to out-do each twist with another one, as if in a personal race of wit. Some turns are predictable, some less, but it’s all good fun and every time the story threw another narrative curveball I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face.

That’s really what this movie boils down to - it’s an irreverent over-the-top espionage blockbuster that’s a ton of fun, featuring an all-star cast of famous people, most of whom are only cameos (Dua Lipa fans please reserve your expectations), all of whom are having the best time ever and you’re enjoying the ride alongside them. Henry Cavill does his best Bond impression, however even though he’s the titular character he’s actually hardly in the movie. I’m serious, aside from the opening sequence he pops in maybe 5 minutes total in the whole film? Yep, guess that’s your first twist there. Argylle hardly has any Argylle. Nevertheless Cavill as always is a charmer, but maybe wait till Guy Ritchie’s The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare to get your proper 2024 fill of Henry Cavill. Dua Lipa does a dance; John Cena’s in there somewhere but I couldn’t see him (almost as if he’s, dare I say, invisible!); Catherine O’Hara excels; Bryan Cranston does the evil-dude-in-a-lair trope with the gusto of Walter White for he is indeed the one who knocks, and Samuel L. Jackson is heavily under-used, acting as only a MacGuffin to give the movie’s finale some extra stakes, though that does fall a bit flat. However the main characters of Argylle are Bryce Dallas Howard and Sam Rockwell. This is their movie. With Howard playing writer Elly Conway with a delightful spark, but it’s Sam Rockwell who’s the MVP, which shouldn’t come as a surprise as he’s great in these type of sarcastic roles. He gets one of the best lines and moments, and honestly he’s on top form.

In terms of negatives, the CGI is bad. Like astonishingly bad. There are some truly cool action sequences, but they were consistently hindered by the overused obvious green screen which was so jarring, and at times it felt like even when characters were standing just talking that they were still enveloped in CGI. Heck, this movie includes a cat which by the way adds nothing to the plot, but it’s there and for the most part it’s a CGI cat, which just looked daft. Also at over 2 hours the movie could have easily cut off a little fat and shortened its runtime, as it did overstay its welcome a little. That being said this is the most fun I’ve had with a Matthew Vaughn flick since his first Kingsman movie, and it was nice to switch off my brain and simply enjoy a silly nonsensical piece of entertainment. Oh, and the soundtrack choices throughout were great. Can never go wrong with a lil’ Barry White.

Overall score: 5/10