#bob world builder

[dmrowan]

If you play D&D I recommend watching this video about the OGL

Hasbro/WotC made a lot of promises after the OGL debacle and it looks like they're counting on us all to forget so they can get away with not doing that. It's important that we hold them accountable, cause this stuff is important stuff.

[educationaldm]

Tell me what you think of these house rules from @BobWorldBuilder.

I encourage strategic combat, and don't feel that removing the things suggested slow it down too much, but I do like the Crit Rule.

[junespriince]

Winged heart au

Wally:... why this kid without a spleen?

Tim: Mind your own business, sometimes you have to give an old assassin a fidget toy so he leaves you alone.

Wally, a surgeon: Kid, how are you alive?

Tim: pure spite.

Dick: it's the bat way.

Wally, sigh: welp, I need to make a call.

Wally, to Iris over the phone: Mom, I need you to ask Auntie Dinah, I need to know how long it will take to be a therapist... yes it for the bats... Red Robin gave his spleen to an old man to fidget with, and it normalized, I need to fix them.

[masterj]

Just have to say that Keith Chapman is an absolutely wild guy cuz wtf do you mean the creator of Bob The Builder and Roary The Racing Car also created Paw Patrol and Mighty Express

[indigoartistrulu2004]

It me and the cartoons i watch as a kid vs the world.Offer me the most comfort 💜💜

[gloriabomfim]

Here is a list of some popular preschool shows that aired in the 1990s:

"Barney & Friends" (1992-2009)

"Blue's Clues" (1996-2006)

"Teletubbies" (1997-2001)

"Arthur" (1996-present)

"Bob the Builder" (1998-2011)

"Bear in the Big Blue House" (1997-2006)

"The Magic School Bus" (1994-1997)

"Sesame Street" (1969-present, but with episodes airing in the 90s)

"The Wiggles" (1991-present)

"Rugrats" (1991-2004)

"Bananas in Pyjamas" (1992-2001)

"The Busy World of Richard Scarry" (1994-1997)

"The Little Mermaid: The Animated Series" (1992-1994)

"Gullah Gullah Island" (1994-1998)

"Allegra's Window" (1994-1996)

"Franklin" (1997-2004)

"Little Bear" (1995-2003)

"The Big Comfy Couch" (1992-2006)

"Muppet Babies" (1984-1991, but with reruns in the 90s)

"PB&J Otter" (1998-2000)

Please note that this list is not exhaustive, and there might be other preschool shows from the 90s that were popular during that time.

[thelittletransboi]

FANMADE CROSSOVER! 2! 1! 1! 1! 1!

Oh my gyatt! Is that Dizzy and Sprout.. Together? Wow that is kewl!

Speaking about Dizzy and Sprout they're both enjoyed by children! (Since Sprout is from dandys world I'm talking about the show. Not the game)

Also they both are kinda tall tbh the reason why I said that it's because when Dizzy stands she is kinda tall. (You can see her stand in the show)

Ok that's all, baiii!!!

[dayurno]

we need to put jean moreau in a room alone with kevin, renee, and jeremy and just see what happens. i think it would be uh. im blacking ojt and nauseous and my nose is bleeding i shant say

i wish this would lead into sex i think if kevin jeremy and renee were in the same room with jean it would probably be to make an intervention of sorts........... like a parent teacher meeting because jean is on the brink of drinking dish washer again. :(

[lachievart]

That's right, I’ve decided updated my commission info again. All payments will be done via PayPal. DM me for further details.

[misspeppermint2003]

⭐️ Weekly Fandom Vote (Round 8) ⭐️

[theunwantedgamerawebtoonhuman]

Well this is wild thanks government.

SAVE PBS

Donate if you can, and if you can’t then you can still help by spreading the word!!!

PBS has done so much for us, now it��s our turn to help them.

Tag every fandom for a PBS show you can think of, even if it’s not your fandom, to spread the word to as many people as possible. We can make a difference.

[nunap]

Idk if the "I can't fix all your problems" thing is true but I saw other fancalls in which fans push agendas and weird issues on idols (especially English speaking ones) that have no business in it and then cry when things go wrong and they get hate or controversial rumors. Congrats on learning nothing.

[staytinyzen]

Structural Testing

San x afab f!reader, plus-size/chubby!reader

friends to lovers, smut

MDNI, nsfw content ahead : oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, slight size kink ig?, riding, petname: baby

wc: ~3,2k

San shows up at your door just after 10pm, wearing that cocky half-smile that always means trouble.

“Hey,” he says, stepping inside like he owns the place. 

“Hi ?”

You arch a brow, tugging your oversized tee lower over your thighs. Even though he’s barged into your place like this more times than you can count, it still throws you off, especially on a Friday night, when he’s usually out with his group of friends. Which, of course, explains your glaring lack of pants and bra.

You close the door behind him with a thud. “Why aren’t you out? Don’t you usually spend Friday nights pretending you hate karaoke while singing your heart out to girl group songs?”

He shrugs, heading toward your couch like it’s his own too. “Took the night off. Needed a change of scenery.”

You squint at him, following him. “So you picked my place? Lucky me.”

He grins. “Don’t act like you’re not excited to see me.”

You scoff, “That depends. Are you here because you blew something up again?”

“Not this time, but can you help me with something?”

"This better not be about another one of your insane ramen recipes that had us on the toilet for hours. Or one of your genius ideas trying to make a sofa out of pool noodles."

He shrugs. “I mean… it’s an engineering project. If we can call it that.”

You snort, already suspicious. But you’re bored, and his stupid ideas are at least entertaining and clearly, you have nothing better to do.

"What's the plan this time, Bob the Builder? What do you need?”

“I need you to help me test the structure of my project.”

You frown. “How?”

“You just have to sit on it.”

You blink. “What, like, just sit? That’s it?”

“Yeah, I have to make sure it can handle a specific weight class.” He says it casually.

You cross your arms slowly. “Weight class.”

He clears his throat. “You know. Pressure. Load-bearing support.”

Your expression tightens, your voice a little flat. “So you want me to sit on your little model because I’m heavy?”

“No! I mean yes—I mean no, not like that! You’re just—you're curvy. Perfectly curvy. I need to see how it holds up under... real-world conditions.”

You narrow your eyes. “You are this close to getting kicked in the balls. Plus can’t you just ask one of your jacked friends? They’re probably as heavy as me.”

He laughs, too quick, too guilty. “No, I don’t want them. I want you to do it.”

He looks you up and down, just briefly, but not subtly. That gaze skims over your bare thighs and lingers a second too long. You feel it like static on your skin.

You roll your eyes and stare at him, “And if I don’t want to?”

Then you start walking to your room, thinking maybe putting on some more clothes wouldn’t be the worst idea. You don’t say anything, but you know he’s watching, you can feel it.

Behind you, you hear the couch creak as he gets up. “Wait! Where are you going?”

You don’t answer. Just keep walking. You step into your room, head straight for the closet.

Then you feel his hand, warm and familiar, settling on your hip. He leans in close, voice low and cocky at your ear.

“Come on, baby. Help me out. Just sit on it. For science.”

Against your better judgment, and maybe because the way he says “baby” makes your thighs clench, you turn around huffing and staring at him. “So where is your little project?”

“Right in front of you, actually,” he grins.

You glare. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His grin shifts, slow, wicked. He steps closer, closing the space between you, and leans down. His voice drops, low and husky, the kind that slides right down your spine.

“The project…” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours, “…is my face.”

You freeze.

His hands brush over your hips with slow, deliberate pressure. “I need to know if I can take the weight. If I can breathe under it. If I can make you come apart while sitting on my tongue.”

Heat slams through you so fast it makes your head spin.

“San,” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than scolding.

He tilts his head, lips ghosting your ear. “So? Are you gonna help me with my project… or leave it untested?”

"You're not serious." You whisper trying to look him in the eyes.

"I'm very serious," he says, voice deep and calm. "This is for research."

"Research," you echo flatly.

He nods. "Thorough, physical, real-time data collection. Hands-on testing. Mouth-on, if we're being technical." He doesn't laugh. He just looks at you with that same calm, unwavering expression that somehow makes your knees feel unsteady.

"I’m dead serious," he repeats, voice low and steady. "'Been thinking about it for a while."

You snort, half deflection, half disbelief. "Right. Okay. And out of all the girls you could think about, you landed on me?"

He frowns slightly, head tilting like he can't understand why you're questioning it. "Yeah. You."

"San." You shift your weight, eyes narrowing. "I'm not exactly your type."

His gaze sharpens, "What the hell does that mean?"

You shrug, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "You know what it means.”

He exhales sharply like you've said something ridiculous. "You really don't get it, do you?" You look up, startled by the edge in his voice.

"I want you," he says, each word deliberate, like he needs you to understand. "Not because I don’t have anyone else. Not because it’s convenient. Not because I'm bored. Because you're–" He falters for a second, "Because you're sexy. Because the way you move drives me crazy. Because I've imagined this more times than I'll admit."

Your lips part, breath caught in your throat. He leans in, his breath hot against your neck. "I know what I'm asking. I know exactly what I want. The question is..." His voice dips, husky. "Are you gonna let me show you how much?"

Your face is burning. "You actually want me to...?"

"I do," he says, eyes dark and steady. "I've been thinking about it. Dreaming about it, actually. You, on my face. All that gorgeous weight pressing down. You grinding on my tongue like you own me."

Your knees go weak, and you hate that he sees it. He smirks, but it's not the usual smugness. There's heat in it. Hunger. "Don't look at me like I'm crazy, baby. I want you. All of you. Every inch. Every curve."

Your heart thumps against your ribs. You cross your arms, uncertain. "You're just saying that because l'm-"

"Hot as fuck?" he interrupts.

“I want you. I want your thighs to suffocate me. Hips that could crush my jaw. I want to feel the weight of you losing control on top of me."

You swallow hard. His eyes flicker to your lips.

"I want to be smothered in your heat. I want to taste how worked up I make you. And I want you to use me for it."

He drops to his knees, eyes never leaving yours, and reaches for you, warm hands gliding up the backs of your thighs. "Let me show you. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But if you want to..." he breathes in. 

"I’ll worship you."

Your pulse pounds. Every nerve ending is screaming yes, even if your brain hasn't caught up yet.

You exhale shakily. "You better not be messing with me."

He kisses the inside of your thigh, and whispers, "Mess with you? Baby, I want to wreck you."

His fingers gently tugging at the elastic of your panties, his eyes bore into yours, "Can I?" He whispers.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat as you anticipate his next move.

“Use your words baby.” He smirks, his fingers stilling their ministrations as he waits for you to speak.

"Please," you manage to choke out between breaths, your body already trembling under his touch.

He grins, his eyes locked on yours as he whispers, "Please what, baby?". His finger tracing circles on your thigh as he waits patiently for you to speak.

"Use your words baby," he repeats, his voice low and sensual. "Tell me what you want."

You take a deep breath, “You” you manage to say your voice trembling, “I want you”.

He finally pulls your panties down gently and moves up your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire on your skin as he makes his way up your thighs. He takes his time, savoring every inch of you as he moves higher and higher. His hands tracing gentle patterns on your hips, he whispers, "You're so beautiful," his voice low and rough. He looks up at you, his eyes roaming over your body appreciatively before his lips find your hip. He kisses first then bites gently, his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin. He smirks as he feels you shiver, his fingers still tracing patterns on your hips.

"So responsive," he murmurs. "I love how you react to my touch."

Then he gets up and lies on your bed, "Come on. Sit. I told you I need to test the load-bearing capabilities of my face."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm desperate," he counters.

You start walking slowly towards him and he pulls you to bed so you straddle him carefully, knees on either side of his head, hovering just above his mouth. San looks up at you like you're a fucking goddess. "Come on," he murmurs, voice gravel thick. "Sit. Let me feel you."

You hesitate a beat longer, then lower yourself onto him. His hands grip your ass, pulling you down against his mouth,

“I'll crush you" you say, worried.

"Promise?" he grins. His breath fans against your core and your hips jerk at the sensation. The second your heat meets his mouth, everything else disappears. Every worry, every second guessing. His tongue parts you, slow and sure, and he groans. You gasp, instinctively grabbing a fistful of his hair as his tongue drags up your slit and circles your clit, deliberate and focused. You rock your hips, and he moans underneath you, gripping your thighs and pulling you down harder, his tongue reaching deeper.

"Fuck, San," you breathe, voice trembling.

He pulls back for a split second just enough to say, "That's it, baby. Use me. Ride it."

You move against his mouth, chasing the pleasure, grinding slow and deep, bracing yourself on your bed’s headboard as his tongue drags slow, wet circles over your clit, then dips down, teasing your entrance before coming back up to suck hard. Your thighs tremble, but his grip holds you steady, firm, worshipful. You continue rolling your hips, chasing the pressure, the friction, and San’s tongue flicking harder, faster, until your moans turn desperate, broken.

"I'm—fuck—I'm gonna—"

He growls against your clit and you shatter, thighs trembling, cry catching in your throat as you come on his face. You don't even realize you're still grinding against him until he starts licking you through it, chasing every aftershock like he can't stop.

Finally, you collapse forward, chest heaving.

The afterglow is still clinging to your skin like sweat when you manage to crawl off of San entirely and flop beside him, both a mess and breathing hard. He looks wrecked. Wet mouth, flushed skin, eyes glassy and dazed.

"Holy shit," you breathe.

San just grins, voice ragged. "Still think I was joking?"

You’re still trying to catch your breath when— "Ready for the next testing phase?" he murmurs.

You blink, still a little wrecked. "Excuse me?" He props himself up on an elbow, that familiar troublemaker glint back in his eyes. "Next project has to do with... vertical load capacity."

You snort. "You're making this up."

"I'm adapting," he says, crawling on top of you with that stupidly hot, slow-motion roll of his hips. "We've established my face is fully weight-bearing. Now I need to check if my back and thighs can handle... a sustained, rhythmic load."

Your legs instinctively tighten around his waist. "You mean you want me to ride you."

"I want you to use me," he says, breath ghosting across your lips. "To see how long I can last. How deep you can take it. How hard you can work me."

He presses his hips forward just enough to make you feel that he's very ready for that kind of testing. Your brain short-circuits as you hold back a moan. "You're insane."

He kisses your neck. "I'm inspired."

He gets off of you and stands next to your bed and starts taking off his tank top, sweatpants, and boxer, and—fuck, he's hard and already leaking for you. "Geez," you mutter, not even hiding the way your thighs clench. "You were this worked up the whole time?"

He grins through gritted teeth. "Baby, you sat on my face. Of course, I was."

Then he sits against your headboard and pats his thighs “Come on baby and take that shirt off”.

You do as he says and crawl to him to straddle him, his hands splay wide on your hips, thumbs stroking your skin. "You comfortable?"

"Not yet," you whisper, and shift your hips, accidentally brushing over his dick, he shudders and groans.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, baby more than okay, go on” he whispers.

You line him up, still slick from his mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as the head of his cock catches at your entrance. You pause...

He looks up at you with dark, reverent eyes. "Go on."

You sink down slowly, inch by inch, feeling every stretch, every throb, every beautiful ache as he fills you. His head drops back, a guttural moan escaping his throat.

"Fucking hell," he groans. "You feel like a dream."

You start to move slowly at first, just rocking your hips, letting yourself adjust but San's grip tightens like he's trying not to thrust up into you like an animal. He looks up, flushed, sweat beading at his hairline. "You're so tight. So warm. I—shit, I'm trying to last, but you're squeezing me like—" You roll your hips hard and he gasps.

"Fuck! Okay okay. New test parameters: don't make me come in sixty seconds."

You smirk. "That doesn’t sound very engineering of you."

He laughs through a groan. "You're evil, goddess-level evil. And hot as fuck"

You start riding him slow but deep, each thrust pressing him all the way inside you. The angle, the tension, and the way he keeps praising you through clenched teeth all build too fast.

"You're doing so good," he pants, hands sliding up to your waist, your ribs, your breasts. "God, I love your body. I love how you feel. I love the way you ride."

You brace yourself against his shoulders and pick up the pace, bouncing on him now. His head tilts back, eyes rolling as he groans your name.

"Look at you," he moans. "Taking everything. Using me. Fuck—ruining me."

He's close. You're close. He wraps his arms around you and thrusts up into you once, hard, hitting that perfect spot, and you cry out, unraveling around him. You clench so hard he swears, biting into your shoulder as he spills into you with a groan. You collapse against him, panting, his arms holding you tight like you might disappear. After a long pause, “Projects structurally compromised by very sexy goddess," he murmurs against your neck and starts petting your hair.

You snort. “You and your crazy projects…”

“They’re driving you crazy huh?”

…

You're still curled on top of him minutes later, skin sticking slightly where sweat meets skin, but neither of you moves. San's heartbeat is still fast beneath your ear, his hands lazily stroking your back 

"So," you mumble, eyes half-lidded, "what's your next fake engineering project?"

He hums. "Hm... Might do a deep dive into internal structural flexing. See how your body adjusts to different speeds, angles, and pressures." You groan into his chest. "That's not engineering. That's porn."

He grins. "Always was, call me a creative consultant for adult infrastructure."

You swat him lightly, but he catches your hand and kisses your knuckles.

Then, softer "No, seriously... I want to test every part of you. Every reaction. Every sound. Every place that makes you melt."

You look up and find him watching you.

"I meant what I said earlier," he murmurs, voice a low rumble. "I love your body. Your curves. I love how you feel. And most importantly I love you.”

You bite your lip. Then open your mouth—

"I'm not just attracted to you, I crave you," he says, voice low but sure. "The softness of your thighs, the way your hips move when you're on top of me, it drives me insane. But it's more than that. It's the way you laugh when you're tired. The way you always know when something's off, even when I try to hide it. When you're with me, I feel seen, like I’m not just a man but your man. Being with you, it’s not just hot. It’s home.”

You blink fast, heart catching in your throat, not used to this kind of worship. "You're gonna make me cry," you whisper, voice shaky. Then, after a beat. "And not even in the hot way."

"I only want to make you cry in the hot way," he teases gently, brushing a thumb over your cheek. "That would be one of my projects too if you’d like."

You shake your head and hide your burning face in his neck. He chuckles, arms wrapping around you tighter.

"You okay?"

You nod. "Better than okay. I love you too”

He kisses you softly and gets up holding his hand out to you. “Let’s get us cleaned up now baby”

…

In the shower, while his fingers work gently through your hair, massaging in the shampoo, he leans down and murmurs, "What I said earlier about making you cry in a hot way... been thinking about that. Thoughts?"

You smirk, eyes still closed. "Oh, I mean... we can definitely try."

"Good," he says, his voice dropping. "Because I've been holding back."

Your eyes snap open, head tilting up toward him.

"You were holding back?"

"Oh yeah," he says, pure sin on his face. "You were still coherent. That's unacceptable."

You stare at him and he shrugs. "Next round, I want you drooling. Barely able to talk. Sobbing a little, maybe."

"San."

"I want to fuck you against a wall. On the kitchen counter. In the shower. Hell, on top of the washing machine during spin cycle, call it vibration analysis."

You laugh half turned on, half exasperated, and nudge him playfully under the stream of water.

"You're insane."

He grins and presses a kiss to your temple. "Only for you."

You finish rinsing off, the heat of the shower is nothing compared to the warmth between you. And later, clean and tangled in soft sheets, you fall asleep in his arms, still smiling, safe, fulfilled, and finally his.

a/n : that's so dumb but this is what inspired this fic plus this comment 🥴

+ the video says architecture project but I got so confused I was like isn’t it engineering so I went with it the whole fic but if that’s wrong I’ll change it I I’m just so confused and dumb

[helyft]

Shenbro au where, Shen Yuan wakes up inside the body of the scum villain's little brother. Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan join the Qing Jing peak togather. Shen Jiu is way more popular than SY, even if it's not really a good thing. SY doesn't really leave the peak unless he must, so not many people know that SJ has a brother, let alone one who is a fucking saint.

After fixing and healing sqq like bob the builder, (transmigrator) SY is finally sure that SQQ isn't gonna fuck up his future even if he is left to his own device. But that doesn't mean SY will leave his big bro though, nope, He is just gonna go on his own little adventures while SJ is doing what-head-disiple-usually-do. Just temporarily yeah

It takes a lot to convince SJ, but with the help of YQY and their Shizun, SY manages to leave after promising SJ that he'll come back more often than not. It's not like he is planning on leaving forever, he will be back in time for the original to begin! Just to make sure his brother doesn't dig his own grave.

it's mighty fun, seeing monsters he had only ever read about with his own eyes, observing the wild life and noting down his adventures, if he didn't have SJ waiting for him back in the sect, SY might have just settled as a rogue cultivator.

SY is curious about how people in this day and age live. When he first came to this world, he was too busy trying to not die and keep his brother from pissing people off left and right. Now that SJ has calmed down a bit (he is still a little bitch but a likeable bitch atleast.) and canon is still a few years away, it's definitely the right time to enjoy the mundane activities and savoury street food!

But you know who else also leaves the sect to hunt down monsters for indefinite amount of time?

SY totally doesn't expect to run into future Bai Zhan lord while out in the wild (Wellll, not that he knows this is LQQ. ) but he is so glad he did! Otherwise he would have been mauled alive by a poisonous-clawed bear!

The amount of times they coincidentally meet eachother is actually suspicious. But SY doesn't mind. Who would mind being saved by a heavenly beauty (even if it's a man)? Sure, this guy might not talk alot, stare at him like he has grown another head and leave instantly after killing the beast that was about to attack SY, he sure is a eye-candy!

They get close soon enough. It can't be helped since they run into eachother every other week. SY even managed to fish out his surname! Which happens to be the same as Liu Mingyan's!

Liu-gongzi is actually nicer than he looks, turns out the reason he looked at SY as if he had grown a second head isn't because he dislikes him but because he looks identical to an unsavoury person Liu-gongzi knows!

SY learned quite a bit about him, like how he is part of a sect, how he only goes back to his sect once a month to show his face to his shizun, and how he even has a little sister. Liu-gongzi's company is a delight to have! He even lets SY observe a beast before killing it.

(if there is a slight voice whispering in the back of his head about the similarities Liu-gongzi has to a certain war god, he ignores it)

They don't really stick together, SY isn't really here to fight fight and fight, he is here to learn about the behind the scenes of PIDW, and enjoy his life the fullest before canon inevitably comes. Liu-gongzi on the other hand likes to mindlessly charge into battle. SY suspects that his head is somewhat empty other than thoughts about brawling with monsters.

Spending time with Liu-gongzi is...fun. It feels like he has finally made a friend who isn't mentioned by the original story. He is a little sad inside everytime they have to go their own way but somehow, they end up meeting always so he can just think that they are meant to be together right? In a platonic way ofc.

Time passes by in a flash, and before SY realises it, Canon is already looming over.

It's about time he heads back to Cang Qiong.

(and if he catches sight of a very, very familiar man, who has become even more beautiful since the last time SY saw him, wellll, that's a sorry for another day.)

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, suggestive, bickering

I sat on the edge of my freshly assembled bed, staring at the space that would be my "room" for the foreseeable future. Nick and I had spent most of the evening putting the bed frame together, with Chris lending a hand to drag the mattress up two flights of stairs. It had taken all three of us and a lot of complaining, but at least I had a proper bed to sleep on now.

Matt was gone off on some date, not that I cared. His absence, honestly, made the whole moving in process a lot less tense.

My little makeshift room was.. cosy, to put it nicely. A double bed took up most of the space, leaving just enough room for a small mirror, a desk, and a clothes drawer tucked neatly against one wall. With the tight layout, I had a single straight path to walk from my bed to the stairs. Functional, sure, but not exactly homey.

Nick was already in his room, snoring loudly enough that I could hear it from here. Chris, on the other hand, had retreated to his own room, probably wiped out again after hauling the mattress. I envied how easily they seemed to relax. My muscles ached from acting like Bob the Builder all evening, and my brain wasn’t far behind.

I flopped back onto the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was strange being here, surrounded by their world but not fully a part of it. Still, the alternative, being out on the street or scrambling to find a new place, was far worse.

I sat scrolling aimlessly on TikTok, letting myself unwind after the chaotic day of moving in. The glow of my phone screen lit up my little area, the sound of videos a comforting distraction. I figured I’d give myself a few more minutes to relax before heading downstairs to do my skincare routine and brush my teeth.

I kept scrolling until a rustling sound from one of the lower floors made me jump. My heart raced for a moment, my body on high alert. I wasn’t used to the random noises in this house yet, the creeks of old wood, the zing of appliances, or the occasional thud of someone moving around.

Then, I heard Matt's voice, accompanied by the distinct click of heels on the floor. My stomach dropped.

He brought the girl home.

I glanced at my phone. 00:40. God, that meant she was staying the night.

As they made their way up to the living area floor, their voices carried loud and clear through the paper thin walls. I cringed.

Their conversation was casual, punctuated by fake giggles from her. “Your room’s so nice, it’s like a cabin.” she gushed, her voice sugary sweet.

“It’s alright” Matt replied, his tone dripping with smugness.

Ew.

I muted my phone and sat still, debating whether I should head downstairs now or wait until the coast was clear. The thought of running into them made my skin crawl. They were clearly standing at the doorway to Matt’s room. So much for brushing my teeth anytime soon.

I lay there, my phone clutched in my hand, frozen between irritation and discomfort. Their voices were loud enough to hear every word. It felt like I was listening in on something I shouldn’t, but I didn’t exactly have a choice.

Then came the sound of heels again, clicking closer this time. My heart sank as their voices drifted toward the living area, closer to me. Great.

A soft laugh escaped the girl, followed by a low murmur from Matt. Then, silence.

But it wasn’t silent for long.

They’re kissing. On the couch.

The unmistakable sound of kissing reached my ears, loud and clear. My eyes widened in disbelief. I sat up, my head spinning with secondhand embarrassment and irritation. Did he not realize I could hear this? Or worse, did he just not care?

I clenched my jaw, trying to drown out the sounds with a pillow over my head. It didn’t help. Every smack of their lips was like nails on a chalkboard.

I groaned softly to myself, debating whether to storm downstairs and remind him I lived here now, or just endure it until they either moved to his room. Either way, this wasn’t exactly shaping up to be the peaceful, comfy evening I had hoped for.

I grabbed my airpods from the drawer and popped them into my ears, desperate for some form of escape. Nothing. They were dead.

Great. Just perfect.

The obnoxious sound of their smooching was still banging in my ears like an unwanted soundtrack to my night. Even Nick had stopped snoring now, so I had nothing else to drown it out. I glanced around my room, trying to figure out what to do. There was no way I was going to lie here and endure this.

My eyes landed on my skincare bag and toothbrush. If nothing else, I could make a point of walking downstairs and acting like I had no idea they were there. Maybe the sudden interruption would make them move it along, or, at the very least, stop.

I stood up and grabbed my things, taking a deep breath. My airpods may be dead, but I could at least pretend they weren’t. As long as I looked convincingly oblivious, I could save myself the embarrassment of outright acknowledging the situation.

Before walking down the stairs, I mentally rehearsed my best surprised face. My heart was thumping louder than I cared to admit as the sound of them kissing, and other noises, grew louder.

I rounded the corner into the living area and stopped.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, forging surprise as I pulled out one of my airpods. “Didn’t realize anyone was here.” Being honest, I didn’t even have to pretend to be shocked, since the sight of this girl straddling Matt on the couch was enough to horrify me.

Matt froze, his hands still draped on the girl's ass. The girl on top of him looked equally startled, her lipstick slightly smudged.

“Uh, hey..” Matt said, his tone clipped. “Didn’t think you’d be up.”

“Just doing my skincare” I said innocently, holding up my bag and toothbrush. “Don’t mind me.”

Without waiting for a response, I walked toward the bathroom, not making eye contact, ignoring the tension radiating from the couch. My heart was still pounding, but at least the obnoxious kissing had stopped, for now.

I quickly got to work on my routine, splashing water on my face and scrubbing at my skin like it could wash away the awkwardness of the situation. My movements were brisk, my toothbrush scrubbing furiously as if speed could get me out of here faster.

As I brushed my teeth, I heard the distinct shuffle of footsteps outside the bathroom. My stomach tightened, anticipating another run in, but the sound moved away, followed by the soft click of Matt’s bedroom door.

Finally.

Relief washed over me. At least now they were behind a closed door. I no longer felt like an unwilling participant in whatever was going on. I finished my routine in record time, putting my things back into my bag and sneaking out of the bathroom as quietly as I could.

By the time I made it back to my room, I could feel the tension leaving my shoulders. I placed my skincare bag back on the desk and sank onto my bed, letting out a long exhale.

I grabbed my phone, intending to scroll until the remaining awkwardness faded. But as I stared at the ceiling, the muffled sound of laughter drifted faintly through the walls. It wasn’t nearly as intrusive as before, but it was enough to remind me of the thin walls around me, and how much I’d need to get used to.

I clenched my jaw, pulling the blanket tighter around me as if that could somehow block out the sounds filtering through. The muffled laughter had shifted into something unmistakably intimate, and my stomach churned at the realization.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to focus on anything else, the ticking of the clock, the buzz of the fridge downstairs.  But it was no use.

Every sound was crystal clear.

I could hear them, the creak of the mattress, soft whispers I couldn't quite make out, the moaning. God this was worse than the kissing. So much worse.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered under my breath, sitting upright. My pulse was racing, not out of embarrassment anymore but sheer irritation. This wasn’t just awkward, it was infuriating. Was this intentional? To make me hate living here?

It was like they were testing the limits of how much this house, and I, could take.

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips. This was my first night here, and already, I was questioning if I’d made the right decision. It’s temporary, I reminded myself. Just temporary.

But as the noises continued, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of resentment. For Matt’s complete disregard, for the lack of privacy in this house, for the way my life had taken such a turn that I now had to endure this.

I was in and out of sleep all night long. I woke up feeling like a zombie, my body heavy and my eyes barely staying open. I checked my phone, barely three hours of sleep. One hour for each round Matt and his guest had last night. The memory of it made my skin crawl.

Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the mirror and grimaced at my reflection. Dark circles hung under my eyes like a badge of exhaustion, and my hair was a mess from tossing and turning all night.

The house was eerily quiet now, almost as if mocking me. Of course, Matt was probably passed out after his marathon night. Lucky him.

I grabbed my phone and typed out a message to Nick:

"Do you guys keep earplugs in this house, or is suffering a rite of passage?"

I hesitated for a moment before deleting it. No need to drag Nick into this. It wasn’t his fault.

Instead, I sighed and decided to make the best of the morning. I could unpack more, maybe take a walk, or even look into noise canceling headphones because there was no way I could survive another night like that.

But as I turned to leave my room, that tinge of resentment hit me again. This was Matt’s fault. He could have been a little considerate, knowing I was just down the hall, or whatever you’d call my little corner.

I walked down the stairs into the kitchen, the house feeling too big and too empty in its silence. Coffee. I needed coffee before I even thought about dealing with anyone today.

I sat at the kitchen table, my head resting in my hands as the Keurig gurgled behind me, the sound of coffee trickling into the cup almost soothing. Almost.

Chris waltzed upstairs, his energy a stark contrast to my sluggish state. He was as fresh as a daisy, a casual smile on his face as he leaned against the counter. “Morning!” he said, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “How’d you sleep?”

I looked at him, deadpan, and decided on sarcasm. “Wonderful. Like a baby.” I muttered, my tone laced with just enough edge to hint at my actual feelings.

Chris raised an eyebrow, catching on. “That bad, huh?”

I shrugged, not wanting to dive into the details of Matt’s activities last night. Instead, I turned around and grabbed my coffee, taking a sip hoping the caffeine would kick in soon.

Chris leaned on the counter, his tone shifting to something more focused. “So, about the new drop for Fresh Love. Think you can come up with some sample ideas for patches by tomorrow? I’ll work on the colorways. I’d like to get it sent off before I go to Vegas.”

Vegas.

The word snapped me out of my haze. Right. Chris and Matt were going away for three nights, then coming back to LA for just one before jetting off to Hawaii for two weeks with Nick.

I blinked, the weight of everything hitting me at once. Between moving, the sleepless night, and now this, I’d completely forgotten how much pressure I was under with work. My mind raced through ideas, trying to piece together something coherent.

“Yeah” I said, nodding despite the slight panic rising in my chest. “I’ll figure it out. Patches by tomorrow, right?”

Chris smiled, his confidence in me evident. “Knew you’d have it covered. And hey, don’t stress. We’ve got this.”

Easy for him to say, I thought as he grabbed his soda and strolled back downstairs, leaving me alone with my spiraling thoughts and a mountain of work.

I grabbed my sketch pad from my room and set up at the kitchen table, my hand slightly trembling as I flipped it open, the faint lines of the new designs already starting to take shape.

It was quiet in the house, Nick and Chris had just headed out for some meeting, and Matt had yet to leave his room. The weight of the silence felt heavier with each passing minute.

Two hours passed, and my head began to throb, a dull ache spreading behind my eyes. It was a mix of exhaustion from the lack of sleep and the mounting pressure of the work I still had to finish. I looked down at the sketches in front of me. It was progress, at least. So, I decided to pack it in for the moment. A nap was probably what I needed most.

As I stood up from the table and gathered my things, I heard the soft sound of footsteps from the hallway. I looked over my shoulder, and there he was, Matt, strolling into the kitchen like he hadn’t just spent the entire night with some girl, oblivious to the fact that I was the one who had been kept up by the sounds of it all.

I couldn’t stop myself from speaking up. “Well, doesn’t someone look fresh after their wild night last night” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is your guest still here?”

Matt raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by my tone. “Jealous?” he shot back, his usual smugness back in full force. “And no, she’s not. She left early this morning.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Well, I hope she’s off somewhere having a lovely nap” I said, crossing my arms. “Because I know me and her got the same amount of sleep last night.”

There was a brief moment of silence between us. He didn’t flinch, but I could see a flicker of guilt flash across his face for just a second before it was gone.

“Look” Matt finally said, his voice more casual than usual. “I didn’t know you were going to be up all night. If I’d known, I would’ve been more-”

“Considerate?” I finished for him, unable to hold back the bite in my voice. 

Matt ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated now. “Fine. You’re right. I get it. But you know I can’t exactly control when someone stays over, right?”

I didn’t reply immediately. He was right in some sense, but the fact that he hadn’t even considered the noise, the situation, or what I might be dealing with.. it pissed me off.

“Whatever” I muttered, turning to head back upstairs. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. I don’t know about you, but some of us actually need it.”

I didn’t wait for his response as I stormed off, my blood still boiling from the interaction. It wasn’t just about last night, it was about the constant tension, the lack of boundaries. It was becoming too much.

As I made it up to my room, the ache escalated into a full blown migraine. By the time I flopped onto my bed, it felt like a jackhammer was drilling into my skull. The sunlight streaming in from the open doorway to the stairs hit my eyes like daggers, and the heat of my poorly ventilated room wrapped around me, suffocating and relentless.

I tried to block it all out, pulling the blanket over my head, but every random creek and distant sound in the house grated on my already frazzled nerves. The sensitivity was overwhelming, each small discomfort magnified to unbearable proportions. My chest tightened as I fought back tears.

It was too much, too much noise, too much heat, too much light, too much stress. I curled up tighter, clutching my blanket and wishing for the sweet relief of darkness and silence.

I could feel my body resisting every movement, but I knew I had to do something to make it stop. I couldn’t lie in this room anymore like this, suffocating in the heat, with the light stabbing at my skull. Maybe if I opened the windows in the living area and pulled down the blinds, it would let in some fresh air and block out the brightness. The windows here were huge, maybe that would help.

With a pained groan, I pushed myself off the bed and stumbled towards the stairs. My head felt like it was going to split open with every step, the harsh light of the house almost unbearable as it hit me like a brick wall. I gagged, my stomach turning from the intensity. But I pushed through, gritting my teeth and forcing my body to move.

When I reached the living room, I collapsed onto the couch, already winded and shaky. I stretched out, trying to reach the top window to open it, my fingers brushing the edge but not quite able to grip the latch.

Just as I was about to pull myself up further, I heard Matt’s voice behind me. "What are you doing?"

I paused, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. "I have a migraine" I said, my voice rough and strained. "My room’s too bright.. too hot.. trying to make it cooler.. darker. Trying not to get sick." I kept my back to him, hoping he'd let me do what I needed without pestering.

But I knew Matt, he’d always have something to say. I was just waiting for it.

“If you want to sleep in my room, I mean.. it’s got blackout curtains, and it's way cooler than in your room..” he suggested, his voice more neutral than before.

I didn’t even look back at him, still focused on trying to pry open the window. "After what went on in your bed last night" I said, sarcasm seeping into my voice, "it’s the last place I want to be."

There was a brief pause, and I heard him sigh behind me. Then, I heard his footsteps approach the kitchen.

“I get it” he muttered, though I didn’t quite believe him. He probably didn’t care what happened, but he was probably just saying something to avoid further confrontation. “You want me to grab a basin or something? In case you get sick?”

I glanced over at him, my expression barely more than a grimace. "Yeah, that'd be great" I said, my voice barely above a whisper, absolutely sweating. “Please.”

I could hear him rummaging around for a moment before he returned with a shallow plastic basin. I didn’t want to admit how grateful I was for the small gesture. My stomach churned just thinking about what had happened the night before, but I didn’t need to explain myself anymore.

“Here” he said, handing it to me, his tone a little softer than before. 

I nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue, and just wanted to crawl back into my space and hopefully get some sleep.

“Thanks” I muttered, but it didn’t feel like enough. It was just a small act of kindness, but with everything going on, it felt like a relief.

As he walked away, I took the basin and held it under my arm, crawling up the stairs to my room. I placed the basin near the edge of my bed, just in case. I climbed back under the covers, pulling a pillow to my face, and tried to block out the world. It wasn’t going to make my migraine vanish, but I hoped it would give me some relief. 

I was wrong.

Suddenly I hear a knock on my fake wall, I let out a slow breath, the migraine still pounding behind my eyes as Matt’s voice cuts through the silence.

“I’ve changed my sheets..” he says, poking his head through the entrance to my room. He looks less irritated than he did earlier, though I can’t tell if it's genuine or just a matter of convenience. “The offer’s still there, or you gonna keep being stubborn? I mean, you’re not gonna get any rest like this.”

I shift uncomfortably, weighing the option in my head. My room was stifling, bright, and getting worse by the minute, and Matt’s room was.. well, it was still Matt’s room, but at least it would be dark, cool, and quiet.

The migraine was winning, and at that moment, I just needed relief. I was tired of feeling like a burden, tired of pretending I didn’t need help.

"Fine" I say, finally giving in. "I’ll take you up on the offer."

“Good choice” he mutters, not sounding as smug as he usually would. “You can’t keep living in a sauna.”

I don’t respond, too drained to argue. He steps back toward the door, preparing to walk back down the stairs.

“I’m going to head out for a bit, so make your way down when you want” he says, clearly wanting to wrap this up, as he turns to walk away.

I shuffled toward the entrance to my room, the floor creaking beneath my feet. I walked downstairs and toward his room, the familiar discomfort of being in his space only adding to my already scattered nerves.

When I opened the door, I was immediately hit by the cool air that seemed to welcome me. The room was dark, the blinds drawn tight, and the bed looked inviting, a stark contrast to the mess of my own space. The girl was right, it was nice and it did look like a cabin.

It was much quieter in here, no random noises or heat beating down on me. I could feel my headache ease just slightly, as though the room itself was offering me some relief.

I set my things down on the edge of the bed, feeling the exhaustion hit me again. It wasn’t ideal, but it was definitely better than the alternative.

As I settled into Matt's bed, the sheets cool against my skin, I couldn't help but feel how odd it was to be here. The space was familiar, yet so unfamiliar at the same time. The scent of him lingered in the air, mixed with the faint traces of cologne. It felt almost wrong, like I was stepping into a part of his world that wasn’t meant for me.

The bed was comfortable, but the proximity to Matt's life, his space, his things, was unsettling. I found myself shifting uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn’t remind me that I was lying in the very place he'd probably shared countless nights with someone else.

It wasn’t just the room that felt off. The silence between us, the awkwardness of me being here in the first place, how he was making it awkward. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping to force the discomfort away, but it lingered, gnawing at the back of my mind while the migraine hit at the front.

It wasn’t my bed. It wasn’t my room. It wasn’t supposed to be me here.

But for now, it was where I had to be. And as strange as it felt, there was nothing left to do but sleep and hope that when I woke up, things would somehow feel a little less.. weird.

a/n: matt being.. nice?

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[beanhusk]

donna noble's latest iconic lines

word of advice: you can wear a suit that tight up to the age of 35. and no further.

she had lots of names at school. and i should know, i invented them.

it is not my fault i lost my job! [pause] alright, it IS my fault, but still.

i would burn down the world for you, darling.

we've got a bloody martian in the shed!

get off me, you space rat!

skinnny man!

nevermind about the ferret from mars, who the hell are you?

we could sell mad paddington for a million quid!

thank you, bob the builder.

donna noble is descending!!!