#and it's like bro. that should be every boss

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter III

It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!

"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"

Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!

"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"

"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."

God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.

"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.

"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!

"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.

"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.

"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."

"Of course, sir."

My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!

The next week, I worked out every night.

Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."

Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...

"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.

"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"

Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.

"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."

Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."

I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!

"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.

"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"

"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"

Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.

"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."

"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.

"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.

"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"

Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!

"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"

My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!

"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."

Thank God.

"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.

"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.

For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.

It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."

The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"

"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"

The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.

"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.

Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.

The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...

"Dad?" I gasp.

"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.

"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.

"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.

"He didn't."

The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.

"Jeff?"

"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"

He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"

Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"

"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"

"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"

He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."

"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.

"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.

"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?

"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"

"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"

"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.

"You wouldn't," I snarl.

"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."

He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.

"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.

"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...

"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.

"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.

After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.

"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.

"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"

I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?

"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.

Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.

"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.

Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!

"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.

One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!

My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.

"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.

"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.

"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."

"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.

I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.

The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.

"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.

With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.

"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.

"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.

"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.

"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.

The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...

[yuri-is-online]

Bro floyd is so handsome-

And he's weirdly the only twst character that I can describe as handsome??? Like every other character I like is either cute or pretty. Trey and leona might have been handsome to me at one point but I'm just. Not attracted to them yk? Even Jade! Jade is very pretty! He's my evil little wife! But floyd is like. The only one that's actually handsome, like in the traditional sense. At least to me he is. Just like. His mannerisms I guess... idk man he's cool as hell and weirdly reminiscent of dark vintage americana. Weirdest fucking aesthetic I can connect him to but fuck you I'm connecting them (national anthem demo 1 by lana. I was reading the lyrics and also the overall vibe of that specific version of the song just kind of cemented for me)

Idk dude sometime I just go into you inbox and dump out my twst thoughts with no real purpose or structure and this is one of those times 🦵...also it's 2 am so that probably has something to do with it. Good night Yuri!

The prequel to this ask and also still goodnight because it is rather late here rn

Floyd is very much a mob boss, old Americana, guy you obviously should not be attracted to but still everyone kind of understands why type of guy. He's handsome in italics, in a way that you giggle about and exaggeratedly wag your eyes because hey you could be joking.

He's that sort of handsome where most interested parties would ditch him after a weekend. Handsome in a way that sparks but doesn't start a fire, like one of his bad moods that's strong, horrible, and will do so much damage but is gone as soon as it's come on. Like a man desperate for a real connection and can't quite get it, who is looking into your eyes while it rains outside not saying anything but really wanting you to know it's real. Handsome like the guy who doesn't get the girl but everyone knows if the writer was paying attention to their own characters would have been the better choice.

Handsome in a way that's stammered out without a technicality offered by someone small, vulnerable, and foreign to everything he knows in more ways than just the one obvious fact who ignores all of that stuff. Handsome enough for the spark to catch and the connection to wrap itself around your waist and drag you into the ocean without a single scream because the part those stories often ignore is that there are people who would look at an eel three times there size and still "would."

He laughs, dizzyingly loud and all the things he is at once because what he thinks of you is much simpler than all of that. He thinks you're cute~ so cute he could just eat you up.

[yanderenightmare]

heya! do you have any more writing tips for writing on tumblr? like, any tips to get as much attention as you, kinda

Oh yes.

♡ Post in different lengths!

Or, more precisely, don’t only post long full-fics with multiple chapters.

I know it sounds weird, but the more effort you put into something doesn’t actually guarantee more payoff. Why would anyone read your hour-long fic if they have no previous experience with your writing that gives you credibility? In other words, how can they know spending an hour reading your writing is worth it?

More people are likely to grab a bite-sized appetizer than they are to sit down for a full five-course meal.

But! The more people like those bite-sized appetizers, the more likely they are to want to sit down for that full five-course meal, you know?

Think of those bite-sized appetizers as taste tests—kind of like commercials that bring more people in to give your actual meals a try.

Also, writing in different lengths is good for you! Only writing hour-long stuff makes you burn out quickly, which brings me to my next tip:

♡ Post often!

If you can, try posting something every day. Of course, you can’t post full hour-long fics every day, which is where writing smaller things such as drabbles, headcanons, and tiny prompts come in. Think of them as flings you have in between your long-term relationships. They’re fun little things good for your health!

But anyway, here’s a tip for when you do have those long-term relationships—as in, when you want to write full-fics or longer posts in general:

♡ Start with a hook! 

My attention should be seized by the first paragraph, if not the very first sentence I read. This is so important.

I’m a very picky reader sometimes—so if that first line doesn’t interest me, I’ll be fast to scroll to find something more enticing. And you can be sure a lot of readers are the same.

Under are some examples of my own start-liners.

Something foreboding:

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

The plot:

Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…

Something catchy:

Give a brat an inch, and they'll take a mile. 

Something snappy:

You’re his favorite whore…

Dialogue:

“Feels like you’re luring me into some trap.”

A prompt:

Yanderes who keep you higher than a kite…

In medias res:

You lay on your belly on the bed.

Anyway, they don’t have to be groundbreaking—just anything that will spike interest in the reader.

♡ Write for different characters! And try writing inserts!

Inserts are when you don’t name any specific character in the story but either give options for what characters your audience can imagine or leave it completely up to them. This works best if you have a nice starter-line that tells you what kind of character this is without naming them.

Examples:

Bruiser boyfriend

Ex-military Yandere

Benevolently sexist boyfriend

Creep Step-bro

You can go further and identity the reader as well:

Big, brawny, chubby-muscled Boss and his perfectly bite-sized assistant

In other words, people like to know what they’re about to read before they start.

Otherwise and lastly:

♡ Something logistic you can have in mind is making your writing accessible. 

Say I like one of your posts, and I click your profile to check you and your other posts out, but all I see when I scroll through your blog is endless reblogs and one-off comments about this and that. My second instinct is to check out your Masterlist. If you don’t have one, my mission is fraught, and I’ll be out of there quickly. If you do have one, but it’s messy, then my patience will wane, and again, I’ll be out post-haste. 

The bottomline is to have a neat pinned post that makes it easy to navigate your blog, with all your relevant stuff easily accessible. Check out mine for reference. But the most important is for it to include your rules, how to request, and your masterlists.

Then, of course, this is obvious, but:

♡ Things take time

I’ve been running @yanderenightmare since 2020. Back then, it took me half a year to get my first 1000 followers. And most of my posts would only get about 500 or so likes. And, that’s another thing—if I was doing it for the likes and follows I probably wouldn’t still be here, so make sure you enjoy what you’re writing and stuff. If you have that conviction, then the rest is just a nice bonus.

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch (SOTUS) 1/5

The crowd picked two blacklisted shows for me to watch during Pride, which were Love in the Air and The Untamed, and so even though I finished the first, I've stalled on the second, and it's all because of the beast named SOTUS. I watched this show when it aired in 2016, but I don't remember any of it. All I remember is that I'm very mad at it, yet this was the wild card show that was unlocked during the voting, so instead of fearing this show so much that I cannot bring myself to finish The Untamed, I'm going straight to the big boss, and fighting this demon NOW!

It's me and the gear in a battle until the very end, and even though I cannot remember a single thing about this show, as soon as I pressed play, all the hate in my body rose to the surface, so I already know this is going to be a ~journey~

First and foremost, I'm going to give this show and Krist a compliment because I HATE Arthit, which is exactly what I should be doing in the first episode. He is 🎶The Worst🎶 and he leans all the way into it. He snarls. He yells. He forces a girl to give him her number through mere power dynamics and sexism, and this isn't just 2024-me thinking this. 2016-me knows that this character is written well because the worst thing Arthit can think of doing to another man is making him say he is gay.

Then to casually whisper in that man's ear that he could find him a skirt to wear . . .

Arthit really is the epitome of the homophobe-to-homo character and I can't believe that it worked in 2016 since I feel that was late for a character like this to still be a love interest, yet it's still working so well in 2024 because here I am, pissed, pressed, and ready to fuck him up for being the douchiest bro in this damn cafeteria. It's refreshing how much I'm allowed to hate him.

Because even the way he screams Kongpob's name with his student ID every fucking two seconds is setting me off.

And I'm very disappointed in BL Land for only ONE video existing of him screaming Kongpob's name, and it's only the times from the first half of the first episode. Thanks, OP, but we are slacking!

But, honestly, if I had a boy who looked up at me like this every time I screamed his name, I'd probably be a lot worse than Arthit. You know, instigating fights and hands on me or something like that.

And now I'm questioning this series because if these two would just choke each other out then kiss, I would be fully for it and enjoying all my snacks along the way. I'd be fine with Kongpob telling the entire room he would make Arthit his bitch, but Kongpob instead says he'll make Arthit his wife, and . . . the vibe is not as kinky as I need it to be to support all that is being thrown at me from these two.

Which is why I'm heavily shipping Kongpob with M! Kongpob got in trouble for having two books, one which was M's, and had to say he liked men. Now, they are drunk at this table with homophobe Arthit and the hazers are staring them down while Kongpob is just holding M's face.

But let me actually rewatch this show instead of reflecting on how GMMTV messed this enemies AND lovers premise up twice (looking at you, Dangerous Romance) because right now, this show is trying to make me believe the girls would not wave hello to a babyface Off.

Once again, back to the actual rewatch, and because I don't remember a thing about this, I don't know if Wad is good or bad, but him busting out this move when Prem told him to apologize was equivalent to an older white Southern Christian woman telling someone to have a blessed day, so I felt that shade through the screen!

And I'm not victim-blaming, but I do actually think Kongpob and Arthit are trying to push each buttons to see who will break first and fuck (up) the other one because this is not a sane answer to "why did you stay?" when the possibility of the hazers physically harming someone is extremely high.

I only see my Kongpob and M ship now because when Arthit asked if anyone knew M, Kongpob immediately stood up and knew his entire life story. I have known my best friends for decades, and I still could not recite half of that information. Kongpob, what are the heterosexual reasons for you know any of this information about M?

JAN!

Once again, Arthit is 🎶The Fucking Worst🎶 because instead of just taking his L, he made Kongpob say everyone's damn name, then ripped up May's name tag, only to scold Kongpob for giving her his, and now the kids are passing out from his ridiculous physical activities! As a member of a Greek-letter organization who was hazed because that was the culture of the time period, Arthit is being soooooo messy!

Hear me out - Kongpob and M would be so good together! Arthit is the antagonist. Kongpob is the protagonist who meets a sweet quiet boy on his first day of orientation. He helps the sweet quiet boy come out of his shell and watches over him. He cares for him. THEY FALL IN LOVE!

But instead I'm getting a love interest who nominated Kongpob because he knows he is cute, yet can't admit it because ~internalized homophobia~ Ryan from The OC would have never treated Seth this way, and they were in the early 2000s. What is your excuse, Arthit?! The show wants me to hate you, and for that, I'm thankful.

But I could never hate Minnie! Arthit came up quick like he was protecting the boys from Minnie being a predator, but Minnie would NEVER! I could never fear Minnie with the bisexual scarf? And now MDL is telling me the actor has only acted in one other series and that series is Deep Night. Gold star resume, and I truly mean that.

Look at them. LOOK AT THEM! Tell me they don't look good together. Tell me they wouldn't have wrecked every other ship. This is why I need GMMTV to let these MEN (no longer boys) kiss their homies. Kongpob x M. Singto x New. I ship it.

*punching walls and ripping doors off hinges* Kongpob gets kicked out the group and the FIRST one to stand up for him is the boy he loves (it's canon to me and IDGAF what the story's gotta say about it). Quiet and sweet M finds his voice just so he can ask to have Kongpob back. THEY ARE IN LOVE!

Arthit is wildin' out here trying to gaslight Kongpob with this bullshit of "if you keep helping out your friends, then they'll never stand on their own." Sir, you wanna fuck Kongpob so bad, you look stupid.

AND KONGPOB SAYS IT!

I cannot stress enough how kinky this is and could have been if 2016 BL Land was allowed to lean into this because Kongpob has already established through his actions that he likes showing up for the punishments, and here he says the quiet part very loudly - Arthit likes punishing him.

Taking a break from the kink to point out that GMMTV was always going to get My Love Mix-Up because in 2016, May's friend said that "In Japan, if you write down the name of your crush on an eraser and use it, that person will love you"

Then we have May asking for an eraser and keeping it just so she can write Kongpob's name on it. But who gets upset about it? M! Because he loves Kongpob and I'm not accepting that he likes May just like Atom realized he liked a boy instead of girl eight years later. M loves Kongpob. That is my truth!

And here comes the kink lite again! Kongpob could leave. He doesn't have to take this verbal abuse from Arthit. He doesn't have to eat that damn spicy ass plate of food. He doesn't have to finish it either because Arthit gets up and leaves, yet HE DOES! Because he likes this treatment. This makes sense if it's sadomasochism, and that will guide me through these next couple of episodes.

Because the decision to make Arthit the one who likes pink milk is a choice, and now I want an entire TED Talk on how Arthit is probably the most well done homophobic bully with internationalized homophobia falling in love with the boy he is bullying.

Because, joke's on him, the guy he falls for is into that kind of shit.

And all of this happens so we can end with Kongpob getting pink milk for himself after he finished an entire spicy meal that he didn't need to since he enjoys being punished should make me so happy, but the show is trying to lighten Arthit's behavior by having him pay for the bill (and get the freshmen food, and having been hazed himself, and blah blah blah) instead of just letting the toxicito be toxic and Kongpob being into it.

I never thought I'd write this, but I don't want Arthit to be tamed. I want him to be so much worse.

[turtlemagnum]

:0 <- people when the personality test they told facts about themselves tells them facts about themselves

[todayisafridaynight]

I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO SAY ANYTHING OF SUBSTANCE BUT PLEASE ENJOY MOVIE <333

IT WAS DEFINITELY A MOVIE

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 1.3k words

fic masterlist pt one next part

i’ve gotten some help with my spanish and have approved/fixed accordingly (if you have any suggestions on the spanish please speak up!); enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; spanish term of endearment ‘chaparrita’ — miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.

Miguel watches as you fiddled with the different tech machines, tapping with a focused gaze. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.

He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.

You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.

He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.

So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.

You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."

Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.

When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.

Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.

"How's ya bloody borin’ shit goin’?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.

"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.

He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."

You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"

Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start callin’ ya boss, and kissin’ ya boots?"

Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."

Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."

Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.

You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.

You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.

Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)

You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"

He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.

He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)

"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.

"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....cuanto me haces arder, cariño. (how much you make me burn inside.) And it’s beyond annoying.”

You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"

"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.

"To prove I'm helpful."

"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"

"Of course."

"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.

"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"

He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then fuck something up."

"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.

You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.

;;

You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.

Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.

'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.

You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.

"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.

Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."

You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."

Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."

You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.

"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.

"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.

Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.

You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"

"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"

You nod.

"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."

You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."

He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working here, close by me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."

You eye him. "Like what?"

"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chaparrita."

You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.

i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…

also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment

[lovverletters]

Yandere! Streamer x Streamer! Reader

A/N : I'm taking a break from the bullet point format and decided to try making a drabble instead. Huuge thanks to @bloozz for giving streamer his name🌷

T/W : Streamer reader, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, etc

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Damnit..! I lost again" He let out a defeated sigh as he watches the 'GAME OVER' screen blinking at him in an almost mocking way.

The chat of his live stream went wild upon his fifth time losing on a game that he had been playing for hours by now and yet he still hasn't been able to beat it.

"Yeahhh, thanks a lot chat! those 'L's you're spamming are definitely helpful" Micha rolled his eyes at the countless mockery his viewer was sending him. He knew it was all jokes- or at least he hope it is.

Deciding that he needed a break from the game, he cracked open a can of soda and laid back against his chair, opting to interact more with his viewers.

He had only been streaming for a few months and had gained a pretty sizeable amount of viewer and fanbase.

Bloozzclues : You should check (insert your streamer name) out! They've beaten this game multiple time and have some useful tips you can use.

"(Y/S/Name)? I've heard of them before, saw a few of their speedruns. I never understand how they manage to get that luck based glitch to work! But thanks bloozz! i'll be sure to check them out after stream" Micha replied to one of the chat and moved on to the others.

Soupispretty :(Y/S/Name) is actually watching your stream rn lol

Micha choked on his drink as he tries to contain his coughs. He almost spat out the soda onto his keyboard and it would've been a nightmare to clean it up.

Scrolling through the main page of the streaming website on his other monitor, lo and behold, the (Y/S/Name) was indeed watching his stream. Specifically, the parts where he lose to the same boss every. single. time.

He felt his cheeks reddened everytime he heard (Name) laughed or giggled at him. They wouldn't just laugh at him though, they would also insert in some advices for him to improve on which made him incredibly jittery with excitement.

(Y/S/Name) also known as (Name) has always been an inspirational figure of his when he first started streaming. To be acknowledged by his idol causes him to be so overwhelmed, he almost fainted from how fast his heart is beating.

The chimes of his subscription's notif brought him back to his senses, Micha's chats were going crazy from the streamer's trance like reaction to (Y/S/Name) stream.

Kafkaismywife : is he okay??

Peachesandcrem : bro looks possessed💀

Collecting what little composure he has anymore, Micha decided to end the stream under the guises of him being exhausted.

"Ahem.. er sorry about that guys, i think the sleep deprivation is getting to me. So, thank you all for being in this stream but I have to log off now!" He smoothly blurted out, getting back into his streaming persona.

After saying goodbyes to his viewers, he clicked the end stream button. Alone with his thoughts, Micha switches the screen back onto your stream.

He knew from then on, his adoration for you had grown into something more. Something deadly and dangerous.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(Name) let out an exhausted sigh as they had just finished another successful stream. They played horror games for hours and ended the stream by reacting to random clips their viewer sent via mediashare.

"I should probably take a shower and take a long nap right after.." (Name) thought.

Ping!

It was the sound of their notifications, (Name) picked their phone up and clicked on it. They were directed to their twitter where the person had messages them.

Michatwt

Hey! Thanks a lot for the advice you gave me when you reacted to my live

"Oh it's that streamer i watched earlier on stream" (Name) spoke outloud as they quickly typed out a reply.

(Name)ishere

No prob! Thought you needed some tips to beat the game haha

(Name) sent out the reply and Micha replied immediately. 'He sure is a fast typer' they thought.

Michatwt

This might sounds odd but would you be down to make a collab with me? I think it'll be more fun if you teach me on stream

They paused for a moment, thinking over their decision. (Name) have been wanting to make a collab stream before but never got to it. This would be a great opportunity to produce some new content!

(Name)ishere

Sounds good! We'll discuss about this collab later, I got something to do right now

Michatwt

Of course! See you later haha

Somewhere else, Micha was jumping out of joy and practically on his knees thanking the higher beings for this opportunity he's been given to be close to his idol, his (Name).

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A/N : ending on a cliffnote because this has been rotting in my draft.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: F.L.U.D.D. (Flash Liquidizer Ultra Dousing Device)

Debut: Super Mario Sunshine

F.L.U.D.D. was Mario's first ever Platforming Buddy! Unless you count the Lakitu Bros. from 64, but they just operate the camera and don't affect Mario's platforming moveset, so I do not. So really, F.L.U.D.D. is- hold on, I really don't want to write every individual period each time I write its name. I'm just going to leave all the periods at the end of the post and you can put them where they belong yourself, or anywhere else you think is funny. Or you can keep them, I don't mind. Put them on a bagel and tell a friend they're poppy seeds!

FLUDD is a big deal. A landmark for the series in terms of mechanics. Not that these specific mechanics returned, but the concept of a buddy granting Mario some new abilities has become a recurring thing. FLUDD even talks, and is fully voice acted! In a robot voice! Like mine! A cute and silly little robot buddy for Super Mario.

So then... why don't I absolutely LOVE it? I feel like I should! But I'm just not getting that urge to imagine it driving a kart or playing tennis like I do with far less important characters. Does it work so well as a Tool that I have a hard time viewing it as a Character? Let's See!

I think FLUDD's design is honestly kind of perfect. The two massive screws that evoke eyes are really clever, and especially great is that they give it + shaped "pupils"! Aside from that, the nozzle's funnel shape is an extremely funny shape for a mouth, and FLUDD does indeed speak out of there. Excellent head! Though I feel like the excitement fizzles out once you look past the head, because the rest is much more "equipment" than "character". That's fine, this IS a piece of equipment! It just makes it feel less like a character, when I'd like it to have a bit of a balance of both. Maybe if the handles also functioned as little feet that it could walk around on? I don't know. Maybe that would be stupid... but I do love when creature designs are stupid!

FLUDD was made by E. Gadd, but that's all the backstory we get. We never learn why it was just there on the Delfino Airstrip, and that's really weird! The perfect tool to combat the game's main conflict is just there immediately when Mario arrives. It could have been a cool little mystery, but I guess the reality is just that some Pianta ordered it when the Goop Incident happened and got express delivery. Or maybe someone already had it and was just waiting for a calamity like this to happen, to justify the purchase!

I don't need to go over everything FLUDD does, right? I'm not the Super Mario Wiki, it's not my job! I'm here for the Weird. And a weird thing is that FLUDD freaken dies.

During the final boss against Bowser's Hot Tub, FLUDD starts stuttering, as if breaking down. And then in the final cutscene... it Dies! Mario goes to it, it tells him it hopes it was of assistance, and it dies. And Mario is sad, because this was his friend. But then in the very next scene FLUDD is back! Some Toads fixed it and it's fine now. So this ends up having the emotional impact of Mario needing to change the battery on his TV remote.

Even though it's our and Mario's friend, FLUDD is still an object, a product. It's technically not just FLUDD, but A FLUDD, one of many, mass produced. I have to wonder if it actually formed any bond with Mario, or if it was a one-sided friendship. Is it even capable of friendship...?

Whatever the case, the others absolutely consider FLUDD a friend, and well, that's just so sweet. During the credits we get to see some extremely compressed pictures of Mario and friends enjoying their real vacation, and FLUDD is there with them! It's not even on Mario's back anymore, or always WITH Mario, for that matter. Sometimes it's hanging out with Peach and some Toads, sitting there independently. I think it is safe to say FLUDD is a real true friend, and likes to just Hang Out sometimes! Even better, maybe it wasn't originally sentient, but learned how to love over the course of the adventure. Such a wonderful robot thing to do!

As expected, thinking in depth about FLUDD has absolutely endeared me to it. Hooray! It's about time. Well, it's too late for FLUDD to be relevant again, probably. I'm not saying it should be a driver in Mario Kart, but I AM saying there should be a kart based on it, and I'm also saying that this kart should canonically be the FLUDD, now upgraded. This feels like something that should have happened long ago!

This has been a long post, but it is far from all FLUDD has had to discuss! So next time, I will post about FLUDD once more, and its various appearances during the GameCube days and beyond! There is milk involved at some point. Get excited to learn what milk has to do with any of this!

Here are all those periods you were promised! I hope you like them.

....................................................................................................

[formulafics]

★ THE JPG CHRONICLES | PART 2

Scenario: the long awaited jpg account from everyone’s favorite mclaren reserve driver is here. with her second and third post, yn accidentally strikes some confusion in the fandom.

Pairing: f1 grid x fem!reader

A/N: and the drama begins 🤭 who do you think the bf is? who do you want the bf to be? 👀 hope you guys enjoy!

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, georgerussel63, and 234,762 others

yn.jpg user @/oscarpiastri is eepy and hungry

view all 3,421 comments

oscarpiastri idk how to feel about this one

⤷ yn.jpg you should feel honored to be featured on my account :)

formulanorris yn it’s a little past 9 pm…

⤷ yn.jpg sorry my bf was harassing me at that time.

⤷ formulanorris BOYFRIEND?

⤷ gretavanf1 …ain’t no way bro 💔 my wife has a boyfriend

piastrispastry yn said “be there at 9” then showed up at 2 am

⤷ rizzciardo she just like me fr

papayabull does this mean oscar is this weeks favorite boy?

⤷ yn.jpg yes but he doesn’t get full credit. we were going strong and then he hurt my feelings (he said he wouldn’t go out to eat with me)

⤷ oscarpiastri because zak brown, my boss, told me i had to be at work. key words: boss, work.

⤷ yn.jpg you hate me. it’s fine.

logansargeant every day i fear that i’ll be on this account

⤷ yn.jpg your time will come don’t worry

⤷ logansargeant i’m scared

norrisnation ARE WE IGNORING THAT YN SAID “bf”

⤷ sainzchili yes bc she’s silly and probably was joking

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, daniel3.jpg, and 254,678 others

yn.jpg two posts in one week? 😱 crazy, ik. anyways, here’s a lil appreciation post for the boy who’s taught me all i know about photography. <3

view all 3,458 comments

norrisnation THESE ARE SO CUTE

landonorris i didn’t know you were capable of taking good pictures

⤷ yn.jpg i didn’t know you were capable of being funny - oh. you aren’t.

⤷ formulanorris LMFAO I AM SCREAMING THIS IS SO FUNNY i love yn 😭

norrisnation …is this a bf reveal?

⤷ yn.jpg nah lando is just my bestest friend in the world and i love him

⤷ rizzciardo yn and lando are my favorite friendship :( they’re my kids, i feel like a proud mom

landaurnorris this is a lil TOO appreciative for yn and lando 🤨 i think this is the announcement team

⤷ norrisnation she said no 💔 i thought they’d be cute together

⤷ formulapapaya if you ask me, she and oscar are dating. i’m 100% convinced

⤷ rizzciardo i need a full twitter thread abt this rn or else

⤷ formulapapaya BET. i will literally start working on it now because i’ve believed in oscyn for so long now 🤭

🏷️ | @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @renarots @minkyungseokie @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[hyukalyptus]

or else what? —hueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!

cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K

“Why are you being nice to him?” You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, you’re the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humility—it all screams fake to you.

You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how you’re always pointing out when he’s wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friends—not everyone in every friend group has to get along, right? 

“Nice to see you too.”

“Someone separate them please?” Soobin asks. “I can’t deal with another argument right now.” He rubs his temple out of caution.

Everyone’s over for a game night—Soobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, they’re off, but definitely still friendly. 

“How about some Smash Bros?”

“No,” you say to Kai. “Mario Kart.” 

“River and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.”

“Not my problem.”

“How about we take a vote?” He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as you’re the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, it’s still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins. 

“Maybe you should stop pouting,” Sage says, nudging your shoulder. “Beat him in the next round. You know you’re better than anyone here.” You take the opportunity to easily—and quickly—beat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now it’s his turn to pout while he grabs a snack. 

Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the group’s annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you. 

The reason behind the initial argument is long forgotten—you’re seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyone’s keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear. 

“It looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” River points out. “We should probably set up camp.” Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite. 

“What do you think about this spot over here, Sage?” You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Don’t tell me.” You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. “You’re back together?” You ask quietly.

“Please don’t be mad,” they say. “It’s going really well this time.” 

“I didn’t bring another tent.” 

“Kai’s tent is huge,” Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if they’re making a suggestion to him. “Can she stay with you?” 

“I thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.” 

“I was gonna stay in Sage’s,” Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each other’s eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyone’s desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River won’t budge. Sage’s pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agrees—

“Fine,” Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. “You gotta finish setting it up though. I’m gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,” he says, leaving you with an impossible task. There’s a reason you didn’t bring your own tent.

Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, it’s even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kai’s making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesn’t have a dry tent to walk into. 

“Do you not know how to put a tent up?”

“No, actually I don’t.”

“I could’ve set up three tents by now,” he says, but doesn’t have time to be much madder—he’s gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It would’ve been quicker if he didn’t have to work in the rain. 

Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesn’t help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one. 

“Ah, that was my last t-shirt.”

“I’m sorry. I tried—”

“I don’t care,” he stops you, holding his hand up.

Falling silent, you change the subject, “What took you so long anyway?”

“I was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,” he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie before bed?” 

“No.” You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Watching a movie.” 

“Turn it off.” 

“I didn’t ask for permission to watch it,” he points out. “I asked if you wanted to join me.”

“Isn’t it gonna bother the other campers?”

“Doubt they can hear it.”

Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.

“What are you doing? You asshole—” he snaps, glaring at you. 

“Me? You’re the ass for not letting me sleep,” you fire back, narrowing your eyes. 

“I wasn’t supposed to have you in here anyway,” he mutters. 

“I’m not an asshole,” you say defensively.

“Yes, you are,” he spits. “You always have to have it your way.”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.

He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.

“I can't believe you. You're so annoying,” he says. 

You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.

Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, “Where did you get those?”

“My car,” you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but it’s not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. “Can I help you?” You ask without opening them.

“Aren’t you gonna share those with me?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.” 

“Not my fault you didn’t bring back-up.”

He exasperates, clearly done with you and all your…what does he call it? Selfish nonsense? “I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and won’t even share the dry blankets with me?” 

“You think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. “I don’t even like camping but I come along with Sage because they’re my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I don’t know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? You’re never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? You’re always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know you’re just—”

Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, “Would you please just shut up?” 

Seeing him this mad…you don’t know if he’s ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention he’s still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his body—you’ve never seen him before—and you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly. 

You smirk at him before saying, “Make me." Looking over your face, he doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he can’t help it. 

Crashing his lips into yours, you’re taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I don’t–I don’t know, I, uh…” He stutters, trying to find something—anything—to say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now. 

You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, but—

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening? You and I are making out?” He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow. 

“Well, not anymore.” You look at him confused. “Did you forget you’re the one that kissed me first?”

“That was just so you’d shut up.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.” You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. “...Is that why you’re such an ass to me? Because you’re sexually frustrated whenever you’re around me? Do you…like me?”

“No,” he says defensively. “I hate you actually. You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “But the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.” Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, “Is that why you’re such an ass to me?” Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. “It is, isn’t it?” You shake your head. “Say it.” 

“Kai.”

“I wanna hear you say you want me.”

The quickest, most disingenuous, “I want you,” comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? It’s not like you haven’t noticed how handsome he’d gotten recently, but it’s also not like you’ve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, “Now shut up and fuck me.” 

Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chest—full and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside. 

The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking. 

Mouths all over—his on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shoulders—it’s a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust. 

“I hate you,” you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure. 

“I hate you too,” he responds. “So much.” The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he says against your ear. “Don’t even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?”

“You’ve never been any help to me,” you respond. “Plus, we wouldn’t have gotten rained on so much if you didn’t get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Can’t even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,” you spit. “Except…you’re kind of a good kisser.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Don’t lie,” you smirk. “I’m an incredible kisser.” He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. “But you’re taking too long. Hurry up,” you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips and—

“You’re that wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.” You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.

“You’re already that hard and I’ve barely even touched you? Horny loser.” Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.

Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, “You never shut the fuck up, do you?” And he’s relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. “You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“And you think you deserve this pussy?” You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, “A dumb fuck like you doesn’t deserve to even touch my skin.”

“Is that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?” He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. “Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself,” he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground. 

Suddenly, you’ve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, you’re in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it. 

Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you can’t help but reach up—you’re desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits. 

“Every time you try to touch me without permission, I’ll stop touching you,” he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. “Good girl.”

Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? That’s delicious. Heat rushes to your ears. 

“Please—”

“Ah,” he places his pointer finger over your lips. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. “You learn so fast, hm?” You smile—a genuine giddy smile. “So cute,” he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently. 

But when a weak little, “Fuck,” slips out of your mouth, he stops.

“Did I say you could speak?” You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and you’re being such a good girl for me. 

Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. You’re positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to you—touch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on that—not only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what he’s doing, you’ll give him that. 

Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy. 

“Aw,” he starts condescendingly. “Is my good little slut gonna come for me?” You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe it’s the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. “Say it.”

You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, “You’re gonna make me come, Kai.”

“Good girl.” He doesn’t change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does something…expected? Surprising? Honestly, you’re not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch. 

Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk you’ve hated for years making you cry over his cock? 

“That’s for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.” 

What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping he’ll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point. 

“Tell me you don’t deserve me.” You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like he’s proud of you before he says, “You may speak.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” He squeezes harder, almost like he’s saying that’s not enough. “I don’t deserve to feel this good. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t deserve…anything.” 

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip around your throat. He’s done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and he’s determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But he’s gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.

Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. 

Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway. 

“Kai…” you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. “You are gonna let me come, right?”

His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, “You think I should?”

“You better or I’ll…” You trail off.

“You’ll what?” He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Now what’s a good punishment for him? Clearly, he’s used to being the one punishing his sexual partners—you wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You don’t want to overpower him like you thought you did. There’s something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. You’re such a powerful woman everywhere else—the type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting. 

Letting someone take full control over you like this—it’s relaxing. You wonder how much he’s enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasn’t stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course he’s enjoying this. And bingo—you’ve got just enough control to get what you want. 

“I’ll never let you fuck me like this again.” 

Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”

Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you aren’t holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it. 

When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like you’re floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. You’re drunk, high on his cock and the only thing you’re seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips. 

“Talk to me,” he says breathlessly in your ear. But you can’t. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know you’re having an incredible orgasm. 

Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, “Fuck, that felt so good.” 

“Tell me how good.”

“You made me feel so…so fucking good, Kai,” you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? He’s actually pretty hot and he’s damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. “Why don’t you tell me how good I feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says. “Your pussy might be the only thing I like about you.” He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. “Well, maybe your pussy and your tits.” Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin. 

“I need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.” 

“Keep talking to me like that.”

And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you don’t catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites. 

Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, “Damn. That was good.” Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk. 

“Listen,” you say, covering your chest with your blanket. “This can’t happen again.” His smile drops.

“What?”

“The fact that we did that,” you gesture between the two of you, “never leaves this tent, you hear me?” Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. “No one can find out about this. God, I’d be so embarrassed. Let’s just…get some sleep.” 

Did you forget about what he said?

Or I’ll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didn’t let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, there’s too much on his mind. 

[ms-demeanor]

While I was out of town my boss pretty clearly got in a fight with one of my coworkers about overtime and billable hours and that has led to him being a petty little pissbaby about "complying with california law" by having us fill out time sheets because boss was utterly incapable of finding the middle ground between "you must track every second of your time in order to be paid for it" and "the technicians who make $60k a year are salaried and therefore are not entitled to overtime."

"Salaried employees can be non-exempt and therefore earn overtime if working for more than 8 hours a day but also are in a position where they can be trusted to take a few extra minutes at lunch or may stay after closing time occasionally without requiring overtime" doesn't seem like a very fine needle to thread but he is absolutely incapable of threading it.

For *years and years* now he has used himself as an example of the right way to be "on time." He's told us about going to his job as a kid and getting there five minutes early every day just to prove to his boss that he really wanted the work.

Anyway, I just got a lecture on how I'm not supposed to clock in even a minute before my start time, nor am I to cut my lunch short, nor am I to stay late to finish things up; he wants me in here for eight hours a day *exactly* and is now so hell-bent on micromanaging everyone's start and end times that he was late to a client meeting earlier because he was looking over time sheets.

Sir, you have played stupid games and you have won stupid prizes. You should have just paid the techs their fucking overtime.

He's being so petulant about this and it's so fucking funny. None of us feel bad for you bro. You are wage theft georg and the spiders have come home to roost. It is very much worth the potential few dollars of time I'll lose each week to see you tie yourself up in knots about whether I stayed two minutes late on wednesday to answer a customer's question.

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 1/10 | Paige Bueckers]

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

summary: very angsty friends to enemies to lovers told through flashbacks & current day

a/n: this is my very first fic + i’m still pretty unfamiliar with how to use tumblr so pls forgive me in advance 😭 but lmk what you think!

warnings: drinking, angst, paige as a player

word count: 1.9k

masterlist w/ all parts

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR & 1 MONTH AGO

It was the night of the Big East championship game, and the entire UConn women’s basketball team was piled into Paige and Azzi’s apartment to celebrate with drinks. At first, you’d been hesitant to come, as you would be the only non-player there. Which usually wouldn’t be a problem, but since it was a celebration for something as special as a tournament win, you wanted to let the team have their moment. But Paige insisted, saying that you were basically one of them at this point, and that everyone loved you and would want you there.

So here you were, sandwiched between Paige and KK on the sofa. There were so many people squeezed onto the sofa, though, that you were basically half in Paige’s lap. She didn’t seem to mind though - one hand was holding a red solo cup filled with dirty Shirley while the other was firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place next to her. Not a typical look for best friends, but both of you attributed this intimate position to physical touch being both of your main love languages.

Paige’s fingers were absentmindedly brushing up and down your hip, alternating between playing with the fray at the end of your shirt and scratching your hip. You tried not to think too much of it. Paige was constantly moving, and she always needed something to play with or else she’d get bored and distracted. She definitely wasn’t touching you because she had feelings for you. Paige made it clear that she wasn’t interested in anyone romantically, with how quickly she moved from woman to woman. But that was how she chose to live her love life, and you respected that! And didn’t care….at all.

KK suddenly lurched up from next to you. “Ayoooo, we should play spin the bottle,” she crowed, as if this was the best idea she’d ever come across.

“Nah, girl, I’m good,” Nika teased, shaking her head at KK’s antics. “Geno said he wants us to be close, but I don’t think he meant that close.”

The rest of the team hooted in laughter. KK pouted. “Well, Azzi just texted the guys’ team to come, and they’ll be here soon. That way I don’t have to kiss any of y’all’s nasty lips.”

At that, Paige sat up a little bit straighter, her grip around my waist tightening. “Ain’t no one playing spin the bottle with the guys. Especially Y/N.”

“Why, Paige? Jealous?” Ice teased. Ice always gave you a hard time about Paige, wiggling her eyebrows at you every time you walked Paige to practice or dropped off food for her during their recovery sessions. You suspected that she was onto you, but you always shrugged off her teasing in order to seem nonchalant.

Paige rolled her eyes, although her grip on you didn’t loosen. “Nah, bro. They’re just weird. They don’t know Y/N like that. She’d be uncomfy.”

You tugged on one of her Dutch braids. You loved whenever she put her hair into two full braids. She looked so cute. Although you’d never tell her that. “What if I wanna play, hmm?” You were testing Paige’s limits, and you knew it. And as much as you wanted to chalk it up to her being jealous, you knew she was probably just being a protective friend.

Paige shook her head. “It’s such a middle school game, Y/N. You don’t wanna do that.” With those words, you felt a surge of drunken defiance rise in your chest. Paige was bossing you around, as if she knew what was best for you. But you refused to be seen as the innocent and meek type. And now you wanted to play. Because if you couldn’t have Paige, you weren’t gonna let her limit you from having someone else.

You raised your chin. “No, I think I’m gonna,” you declared.

Paige’s eyes flashed. There was a hint of surprise in the way she leaned back and studied you. “Okay,” she responded coolly. “Whatever. Do what you want - Imma top up.” She briskly slid the part of me on her thigh off, and got up, disappearing into the kitchen.

Soon, the guys piled in, along with some of their buddies that weren’t on the basketball team. You all agreed to do a mix of spin the bottle or truth or dare. It was either answer the question, or kiss. Except those who were players insisted that teammates were off limit. To be honest, you didn’t wanna play. You, like Paige, thought the game was childish. And more importantly, the only person in the room, or frankly anywhere in the world, whose lips you wanted to kiss was Paige. But Paige didn’t want you, and you had to move on.

Paige returned with a full cup, this time of beer, just in time for the game to start. A couple of the girls had gotten up to sit with the guys on the floor, so there was more room on the sofa now, meaning that Paige and you were no longer touching. Instead, there was a sizable gap between the two of you. The lack of her warmth was upsetting to you, and another reminder that Paige was only touching you because of how crowded the sofa was. Not because she craved your touch the same way you craved hers.

Just your luck, the bottle landed on you the first spin. You vaguely recognized the guy who spun it as one of the players on the basketball team. He had dirty blonde hair and a cocky smile. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, and he had a rumpled look about him that would be messily attractive if it weren’t for the fact that you had almost zero interest in guys.

“Which guy on my team looks like he’d be the best in bed?” The guy’s wildly inappropriate question barely registered before Paige leaned forward, sliding her hand protectively over your knee.

“That’s a fucked up question,” she snapped. Her eyebrows were furrowed in that way that happens when she’s really angry, and her cheeks were flushed, likely from the alcohol. Tipsy Paige meant a Paige with much more intense emotions, and you knew now that she would be even more unashamed now than she is sober, which says a lot considering how she’s already pretty free willed sober. “Don’t be an ass. Give her a decent question so she’s not forced to kiss you.” Paige snarled.

The guy’s eyebrows shot up. “Chill out, P. It’s just a game,” he laughed arrogantly.

“Yeah, P.” The words, laced with malice, were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you wanted to die as soon as they came out. Paige looked like a puppy who was just kicked, confusion and embarrassment in her eyes. Shame rose in your throat like bile - Paige was just trying to protect you from a creepy guy, a guy who you didn’t even want to kiss, and you were taking this random stranger’s side. In front of all these people.

But words kept piling out of your mouth, even though you didn’t mean it. “Stop babying me,” you hissed. This time only Pauge could hear, but you internally kicked myself again for the harshness of your words. It was the alcohol in you, running hot through your veins, exacerbating all the bitterness and jealousy you’ve been feeling towards Paige for so long. You wanted to get back at her…but for what? It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love you back.

You were thrusted back to reality when you realized everyone was staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. It was an almost out of body experience, in the most terrible and awful way possible, watching yourself move like a robot to where the guy was sitting. You kneeled down, planted a kiss on his lips to the cheering of all the people around you, then got back and returned to your seat on the sofa.

And for the rest of the night, Paige didn’t speak to you.

—————————-

“I can’t find them.” You were digging through your purse, trying to find your keys. Paige was standing next to you, her face stone hard.

You were so drunk. After the whole kiss incident, you’d started going wild with the drinks, putting back shots as if your life depended on it. The alcohol made you feel numb, softening the ache you felt whenever you thought back to earlier that night when you had hurt Paige, embarrased her in front of all those people. You felt like the worst person in the world, and the more you drank, the more that guilt disappeared.

And now you were drunk out of your mind. You’d expected Paige to ignore you completely after, and she had, until the celebrations died down and you had to go home. You had walked to the apartment because your dorm was only 10 minutes away, and now with how you couldn’t even walk without staggering, someone needed to escort you back.

You hated how good Paige was. How she immediately got up without hesitation when Nika requested for someone more sober to walk you home. You knew she was angry and hurt, yet like always, she looked out for you first.

“Paige, I can’t find them,” you pouted. Paige exhaled through her nose and grabbed the purse from you, sifting through it before she found your keys, tucked into one of the side pockets. Opening the door, she rested her hand on the small of your back to guide you inside.

Once inside, you grabbed Paige’s hand, tugging her into your room and flopping on the bed. She stood there, still and silently watching you. She was unamused, and rightly so.

“Are you mad?” You giggled, sitting up to poke her in the stomach. When she stared back at you, still in silence, you stopped laughing. Sobering up a bit, you grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “I’m really sorry,” you said quietly. “I don’t know why I did that earlier.” She was between your legs now. You weren’t thinking straight, your mind a muddled mess, and so you wrapped your calves around her, pulling her in until there was no space between you two. She looked down at you, bringing her hand to lightly touch your jaw.

You both stayed there for a moment, the tip of her finger running back and forth along your jaw. Your eyelids fluttered closed. Paige’s touch was so gentle, and you wanted to lean into it and stay in it forever. You didn’t understand why she was being so kind to you when you had been so cruel to her earlier, especially on a night as important as this.

“I’m sorry. For ruining tonight,” you told her, shifting to lean your forehead against her toned stomach.

“You didn’t ruin anything. But I was trying to look out for you,” she said quietly from above you. Paige. A golden heart, and a reminder of why you didn’t deserve her.

“But you kiss a lot of people. Why do you have an issue when I do it?”

Paige’s hand stuttered. “You should really get some rest,” she said gently instead of answering your question. She backed up, looking at you closely before shutting the light off. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night.”

[bluecollarmcandtf]

My little brother wants to know what it’s like being older, he wants to experience life inside of my fathers body as well as our next door jock neighbor. I was wondering if you could help him out with that?

Be careful what you ask for! Your brother has a reputation for being an irresponsible troublemaker. Who knows what he'd get up to if he had those bodies at his disposal...

"Holy crap!" your brother shouts, seeing his body in the mirror. His jaw hangs open as he runs his fingers through unfamiliarly thick hair, "I'm him...I'm the hot neighbor!"

For as long as you can remember, your younger sibling has lusted after the guy next door. Charlie would spend most of his time peaking out of the window and into Diego's garage, giving him a front row seat to every one of the hot neighbor's workouts.

You always called Charlie a creep for staring at the neighbor, but you secretly understood why he did it. Diego was built like a god. His body was so lean that every vein was visible even from across the street! And now that body is standing in your brother's bedroom, eyes wide with so much disbelief it was comical.

"I'm Diego," Diego gasps softly, a tear of joy coming to his eye, "I don't know how. I was just thinking about him and then..."

"Charlie?"

Diego's head darts away from the mirror and stares at you with glee, "Yeah, it's me idiot! You think Diego would ever be shirtless in our house?"

Your brother turns his gaze back to his new body, licking his lips as he examines the thick round pecs hanging off his new chest. You watch as Charlie raises Diego's heavy arm and gives his muscle-tits a few squeezes. The real Diego would never grope his own body like that. In fact, the real Diego would probably kill Charlie for doing that with his body.

"I think you should give our hot neighbor some appreciation," Charlie purrs, flexing Diego's arms overhead, "I know you like his body just as much as I do big bro."

Your brother is right. Charlie might pull out the binoculars to watch the hot neighbor lift, but you aren't much better. Just last night you were wanking off to the memory of Diego giving you a casual wave as you got home.

"Charlie, this is insane," you try to stay calm, "We need to figure out what's going on."

"What's going on?" your brother uses Diego's sharp voice against you, "What's going on is I have the neighbor's hot body now, and you aren't appreciating it!"

"Please..." you ask your little brother to calm down, but it doesn't do any good. He's only getting more and more assertive with his new body, and it's messing with your head. You have to remind yourself that this is actually your dork of a younger brother and not the incredibly intimidating boy next door.

"Shut up," Charlie snaps, giving you a shove that throws you against the wall.

"Charlie!" you groan, "Don't push me ar-"

"Call me Diego."

Your younger brother swaggers over and sneers down at you. In Diego's body, you have to look up to meet his face, and he seems fed up. Already, he's got a muscled arm pinned against the wall over your shoulder, and already, you feel trapped under him.

"Char-"

"DIEGO!" he barks, slamming his other arm against the wall.

"Diego," your voice shakes, "Aren't you even just a little bit worried about the real Diego?"

"Oh, kiss my ass!" he snorts, "I just liked his body, and now it's right here for me to enjoy."

"But..."

"I told you to kiss my ass, big bro," Diego's intense glare tells you he's not joking.

Your legs feel weak. Somehow your little brother has gone from a loveable rascal to domineering bully! All it took was giving him Diego's shredded body and he's bossing you around like you're his bitch.

He doesn't wait for an answer. Charlie takes Diego's strong arms and pushes you to the floor. Before you know it, he's turned around, and you are face to face with your neighbor's tight bubble butt. You don't want to just give in to your baby bro, but Diego's assertiveness is impossible to ignore. Your face is drawn to that ass, and you lose yourself as you kiss the sculpted glutes beneath the mesh shorts.

"That's more like it," Charlie smirks, "Now that I'm inside Diego, I want some ass kissing from you everyday."

You don't respond. Your lost in the pleasure of the hot neighbor's body, his ass pinning your head against the wall. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad life, after all...

A sudden vibration jolts you out of it. The walls shake as the door to the garage is raised with a buzzing motor. Dad is home!

"Shit," Charlie says with Diego's mouth.

"I'm telling dad what's going on!" you cry, rising to your feet.

"What! No, I was just kidding about the ass stuff," Charlie panics, "Dad won't understand!"

"I don't care!" you shout and stomp out of the room. Your ego is slightly bruised by how quickly you folded for Charlie. It doesn't matter that he's wearing the bulky neighbor like a costume. He's your younger brother, and you just kissed his ass, literally!

Maybe your father can make sense of all this Freak Friday nonsense! He always has a calm decisive answer to everything.

"Hehe, beat you to him, bro!"

Your jaw drops when you see your father in the living room. The man just got home, but he's already waiting for you with his shirt ripped off. His entire beer gut is hanging out in the open, and he's shaking his torso around like he's trying to show it off.

You can't help but recoil from the sight. Your father hates taking his shirt off. The man wears shirts in the pool to keep people from seeing him like this! Yet, now here he is, without a self-conscious bone in his body.

"Dad, what are you-"

"Ooh I like it when you call me dad," his voice lowers, like he's trying to be playful.

"Wait, Charlie?" you gasp.

Your father throws his hands on his hips and smiles at you. He's the kind of guy who's only ever smiled when you scored in a sport or won a game. You can't help but feel like you've earned his approval when you see that grin. It really sucks that this isn't actually your dad.

"How did you even..?"

"I don't know, bro! I just really didn't want you to tell dad, and then I blinked, and then I was here: inside him!"

"Well get out!" you say firmly. Charlie wearing the neighbor's body was one thing, but this doesn't feel right. He shouldn't be playing around with your father like this.

"What, no!" he snorts, "Dad's even more fun to be. I feel so fat and hairy!"

"Dad's not that fat or hairy," you retort sternly.

"Oh come on," your father's voice purrs, "Look at the flab on this guy!" Charlie grabs the bloated stomach with Dad's arms and gives it a playful shake. Your real dad would be mortified if he saw how his body was acting!

"Charlie, don't do that to him."

"Shut up! I feel so big and manly in his body," he explains, "And he's still sore and sweaty from work too!"

You watch in disgust as your father raises his arm and takes a long whiff from his armpit. The real man would normally jump in the shower the second he got back from his day at the construction yard, but Charlie obviously enjoyed Dad's smell of hard work.

"I think I've had a long day of work, son," Charlie suddenly announces, lowering his voice in a cheap attempt at dad's typical monotone, "Grab your old man a beer."

"No," you pout, rolling your eyes.

"No?"

Suddenly your father pounces on you, locking you into a tight headlock with his meaty arms. You try to slip out. His bare skin is slick with sweat, but your little brother holds you there with an unyielding grip, laughing with dad's deep voice.

An hour later and you're washing dad's truck. Charlie released you from the headlock, but only after he'd told you how excited he was to manhandle you again. Apparently, he couldn't wait to use dad's body to keep you in your place.

You grabbed him his beer and massaged his shoulders like he told you, but you didn't do it happily. Your own father was now bullying you around because your stupid little brother somehow managed to hop in his body. He wants you to go upstairs and clean his bedroom next. It's getting late, but you don't want to make Charlie angry, especially now that he's put a few beers in dad's belly. Who knows what your power-drunk little brother will do when he's inebriated!

You just have to accept it. Charlie has your dad's body and you have to do what he says. This is your life now...

These amazing images were generated by @bodyhopper-files

[successfulgoddess333]

ZENDAYA EATING A PIZZA!

TOUGH LOVE RANT!

Hi now that I’ve got your attention

I’m going to yell at you

Cuz I love you but y’all killing me with this

“I have the urge to move”

Or my favorite

“I didn’t get symptoms”

Mmmm this one is ultimate favorite

“How do I enter the void?”

😃

Sweetie what do you think my posts are about???

How to find the tooth fairy?

Please stop asking me that when it’s literally in ALL MY POSTS

I literally got blocked cuz I was asked over and over again

By someone I thought was a friend

How to get in the void

I told her

It’s in my posts

Read my posts

I guess she didn’t wanna do that

All you’re doing is meditating

Yall act like you have to clean a whole warehouse or work a 10am to 2am shift!

Like it’s giving

“Omg I have to lay still and affirm and breathe and actually be relaxed and ignore the 3D which I hate anyways and leave this physical plane to go to my 4D which is pretty much me in my most powerful and purest state to gain peace and comfort and manifest my desires because I was born to do this and then wake up with my desires because it’s literally so easy ugh that’s too much it’s soo hard!!

SOME OF YALL ARE GIVING THAT EXACT ENERGY

Im not comparing trauma or anything everything you’re going through is valid

But somebody is probably going through something so horrible

And they don’t know about the void state or manifestation in general!

YET YOU DO!!

Because guys I love you but you’re all asking the same thing over and over and over again

It’s driving me insane

Every post I make is about the void

What it is and how to get in

If my account was about making bagels

Would you ask me

“Do you make bagels?”

You see what I mean?

I love you so much but stop asking the same thing

And I made a post on boundaries

Still had someone asking me to enter the void for them

How am I gonna take time out of MY DAY

To enter the void for someone with the SAME POWER AS ME!!!!

That’s like helping a genius with his homework

You already know how to do it tf you asking me for????

😐

Bro

What do you think the void is???????

It’s not Disneyland

It’s not your mamas house

It’s not a Beyoncé concert

STOP TREATING IT LIKE ITS THE MOST DIFFICULT THING EVER OR THAT ITS OUT OF REACH OR OH I ONLY GET IN IF IM LUCKY

IT IS LITERALLY NOT!!!

There’s is no luck when it comes to the void

I’m not gonna keep repeating myself

Everyone on here keeps telling yall the same things

Yet you still ask

How to enter

Or

Complaining about not having symptoms

BECAUSE YOU GOT USED TO IT THATS WHY YOU HAVE NO SYMPTOMS ANYMORE AND EVEN IF YOU DO IDC IF YOU FEEL LIKE YOUR WHOLE BODY IS BEING DRAGGED ACROSS THE MF ROOM IGNORE IT YOUR SYMPTOMS IS APART OF THE 3D REALITY

WHY?

BECAUSE THEY ARE APART OF YOUR BODY AND YOUR BODY IS PHYSICAL THIS WHOLE REALITY IS PHYSICAL THERES NO POWER HERE YOU ARE THE 4D!!!!

THATS WHERE THE POWER IS AND ITS POWERFUL BECAUSE OF YOU

ITS ALWAYS BEEN YOU AND IT WILL ALWAYS BE YOU YOU HOLD THE POWER YOU ARE THE REASON WHY YOU EITHER ENTERED OR HAVENT BECAUSE ITS BASED ON YOUR ASSUMPTIONS

THE 3D IS A PHYSICAL REFLECTION OF YOU

YOU DONT LIKE IT RIGHT???????

OK MEDITATE

How???

BITCH JUST LAY THERE FOCUS ON YOUR BREATHING AND YOUR PEACE

AT THIS POINT SAY

FUCK MY DESIRES IMMA GET THEM ANYWAYS

IF YOUR ONLY GOAL FOR THE VOID IS TO MANIFEST YOUR DESIRES

YOU’RE GONNA GET IN ANYWAY BUT YOUR GOAL SHOULD INCREASE WITH EVERY STEP

WHEN YOU LAY DOWN FOCUS ON JUST FINDING PEACE AND CONNECTING WITH YOUR SELF DEEPLY FUCK THOSE SYMPTOMS FUCK ANY 3D REACTIONS IF YOU GET NO SYMPTOMS EVEN BETTER NOTHING TO DISTRACT YOU

IF YOU GET SLEEPY KEEP AFFIRMING YOU’LL WAKE UP IN THE VOID

DIDNT WORK?

DO IT AGAIN

“But I’m_(excuses)”

NOPE

DO IT AGAIN THIS IS FOR YOU NOT JUST YOUR DESIRES BUT YOU ARE GOING HOME TO GET THE PEACE YOU DESERVE

THE 4D IS YOUR HOME ITS CALLING YOU!!

YOU CREATED IT THE UNIVERSE TRYNA LET YOU KNOW WHOS BOSS

THAT BOSS IS YOU

SO LIKE A BOSS

GO TO WORK

GET WHAT YOU DESERVE

STOP COMPLAINING STOP RESEARCHING GET OFF OF HERE NOW!!

AND STOP USING ME AS YOUR VOID COACH I MAKE POSTS TO INSPIRE I RESPOND TO DMS FOR ASKS THAT I HAVENT ALREADY COVERED IF YOU NEED A QUESTION READ MY POSTS BEFORE YOU ASK

Not to be rude but you might get blocked if you ask

“How to enter the void?”

Bro

ALL MY POSTS TALK ABOUT THAT

Quit overcomplicating

You made the void

It exists because of you

Put YOURSELF on a pedestal not anything or anyone

Sometimes I feel like yall just use me and other blogs on here to get info on something we already talked about on our posts

Just for you to get mad when we get fed up with repetitive questions

BLOCK ME THEN BUT IM NOT ABOUT TO BABY YOU IM TELLING YOU THE TRUTH THE POWER LIES WITHIN YOU GIRLIE

READ BEFORE YOU ASK BABY

If this still doesn’t help you

Idk what else to say

I love you much love 🩵

[shellem15]

This has been commented on many times in this fandom, but I'm using it as a springboard for my own brainrot Raphael really is just like his daddy. There's the obvious stuff—the narcissism, the dramatics, the convoluted plots and just the general messy bitchery—but there's also the stuff under the surface. Both have massive inferiority complexes, both are extremely envious and power-hungry (Mephistopheles in particular for the envy part, but we'll touch on that later), and both act extremely obsessive towards certain tools, goals, and—most relevant to this post—people.

Now Raphael is definitely weird towards Tav/Durge, but it's a bit more ambiguous as to whether he's obsessed with them in particular or just sees them as a means to an end. The situation with Hope, on the other hand, is quite explicit. Raphael is obsessed with her, even naming his home after her, but there's not really anything material he gets out of her. Him imprisoning and torturing her is not a means to an end, he just does it because he's a sadist. He wants her attention, he is entertained by her defiance, he wants to break her—he both loves and loathes her.

And what do you know! Raphael's thing towards Hope is kinda similar to how Mephistopheles acts with his object of obsession—Asmodeus. Now, if you need to know anything about Mephisto's character, it's that he's envious. Envious towards his peers, envious towards his betters, even envious towards his inferiors—he resents that others' have what he does not. Even Martinet, Asmodeus' unflappable constable, thinks so: "Were Mephistopheles to become the King of Hell, it would take him less than an hour to start wondering why he wasn’t also ruler of Mount Celestia." (Guide to Hell, p. 45)

The #1 target of Mephisto's envy is Asmodeus. The man is capital-o Obsessed with him, ya'll.  Asmo is on his mind 24/7, haunting his every thought. He lives rent-free in Mephisto's head.

Mephisto is the silver medal to Asmo's golden 1st place. Eternally living in his shadow, the Starscream to Asmo's Megatron. He is always one step behind him—like, Mephistopheles has been trying to become a god for a while now, and just when he was about to succeed, the spellplague happened and Asmodeus ate the god Azuth like an energy bar, snatching up godhood by sheer luck. And then, of course, Mephisto's godhood plan fell through so now the power divide between them is even greater than it was before.

Bro tries so hard and it just doesn't work. Like, when Mephisto was going through his rebrand phase as the Lord of Hellfire, he changed his appearance to that of the "quintessential devil". But all that ended up doing is making mortals confused about who exactly he is—a lot of mortals straight up think he is Asmodeus. Like, to the point that Asmo just went "you're the manager of my cults now lol", so now the distinction between the two is even more blurry. Also, Mephisto's wife is straight up closer to Asmo than she is to him (see my Baalphegor post), which is just another spit in the face. Bro cannot win. (This ties into another similarity between him and his son; Raphael clearly got the loser gene from him.)

Now, obviously the situation between Raphael and Hope is very different than Mephisto's relationship towards Asmo—Hope is Raphael's captive, while Asmo is Mephisto's boss; Hope's life has been upended and tormented by Raphael, while Mephisto is at most an annoyance towards Asmo (bro has repeatedly told Asmo to his face that he would usurp him and Asmo is just like "whatever, dude")—but the level of obsession is similar. Raphael hates hope but is also desperate for her affection, Mephistopheles loathes and envies Asmodeus but is also his greatest ally. Both are desperate to fu—*ahem* both are psycho-sexually obsessed with them.

So, yeah. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

TLDR: Raphael inherited his psycho-sexually obsessive tendencies from his daddy lol. Also you should really read the lore about Asmodeus and Mephistopheles' relationship because it's actually insane y'all. Like this shit was made for the gays people.