#boras-tunes

[anonymouspuzzler]

turns out SFM hit me hard enough that I wrote fic too! uh-oh!! this is the shorter of the two I've written (yes, I know, I say, looking at the 10K wordcount) and it is about Kamal Putting Himself In A Situation. please mind the M rating and content tags; there's nothing explicit or spicy by any means but there's still enough that I'd recommend being mindful

[idrawsometimes]

sometimes! you need a few zeldas in your life

[imsailorpluto]

Bo-ra! Deborah is painfully realistic and probably the best drama of 2023 I've watched so far.

[moonstruckme]

IN a week - what I’ve never seen in a Steve 80’s pop star AU!!! his hair? joes actual voice? THE FACE? He’s always giving pop star to me

Yessss thanks sm for requesting honey!

join the party

popstar!Steve x fem!reader ♡ 705 words

“Oh wow.” You swipe a magazine from the rack by the checkout. “The sexual exploits of heartthrob Steve Harringon? Inside source tells all?” You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “Stevie, is there anything you’d like to tell me? Has Robin sold you out?” 

“She would,” Steve allows, not even looking at the magazine as he sets your groceries on the conveyor belt. Nancy has told him a million times to not risk being out in public like this, but he says he misses the mundanity of it. I just want to go to the mall and shit like that with my girlfriend, that shouldn’t be a big ask. So they’d compromised; Steve sacrifices the volume of his hair every time he goes out by squishing it under a baseball cap, and Nancy gets the peace of mind knowing that there’s no chance of her most big-time client being recognized while his hair (practically trademarked, at this point) is covered. “But she has even more fun with feeding them ridiculous stories. She says my real life is too boring.” He wraps his arm around you, drawing you away from the magazine rack. “Monogamy, you know?”

“Such a drag,” you agree, gratified when he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Wanna see what she told them?”

Steve makes a noncommittal humming sound, but he leans over to watch as you leaf through to find his page. “Ooh, this is a good picture of you, babe.” Steve winks at you from the page, skin glossy and laminate. “Okay, so you slept with every single girl at Hawkins High while you were there, you…apparently had a very passionate fling with an heiress on vacation in Bora Bora, and you were found in a closet, completely naked with two girls at a party…in uptown?” You gawp at him, feigning betrayal. “Stevie, was that the party last week? When did you slip away?”

He jostles you by the shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“You’re so sweet to me. Hey, look—” you pick up another magazine, reading off the cover, “The seven-step regiment Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington doesn’t want you to know.” 

“You’re joking.” He scrambles to see over your shoulder, and you laugh, showing it to him.

“I am,” you confess, and Steve actually sighs in relief. “It says five steps.” 

“Suckers,” he scoffs. “Don’t fuck with me like that, babe, that’s my income you’re joking about.” 

You laugh again, reaching up to take his hand where it’s slung over your shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short,” you say, intertwining your fingers. “It’s only like, ninety percent of your income. You’ve got some talent.” 

Steve looks at you, eyebrows rising nearly to the brim of his hat. “Oh yeah? Changing our tune from the car this morning, are we?”

You scoff, but he only wrestles you closer, pulling you tight against his side. “I didn’t say you were a bad singer, I said you couldn’t hit the same notes as Madonna.” 

“But I did,” he says smugly, taking out his wallet as you approach the checkout. 

“Well, you tried.” 

Steve hums disappointedly. “M’gonna have to rethink all these free, private concerts if my audience doesn’t appreciate them,” he says. 

You smother a laugh, pressing a hand to your chest in a show of dismay. “What? No, please, Mr. Harrington, you can’t do that. I’m your biggest fan!”

“Harrington?” The cashier, a man not much older than you or Steve, looks up from the groceries. “Like, Steve Harrington?”

Steve tenses, and you feel instantly guilty for your dramatics. “Yup,” you say quickly. “I’m a big fan of his.” 

The man nods. “Me too. Heard he’s back in town for a bit.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“Yeah, but I mean, we probably won’t be seeing him around much,” he says matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders. Steve looks down as subtly as he can, hiding his face under the brim of his cap. “When you get that famous, you can’t just be going out in public like the rest of us. Poor dude would probably get mobbed.” 

“Probably,” you agree, smiling as you squeeze Steve’s hand in your grip. He sneaks his other hand to your waist where the cashier can’t see, pinching scoldingly at your side. “Wouldn’t want that.”

[bangtanhoneys]

BTS MOMENTS: Grace & Seokjin - Happy Birthday

She could hear him before she could see him.

Grace always had a knack for hearing the boys before she could see them, especially when she was woken up in the middle of the night by the rapline returning home or Taehyung and his nighttime wandering or Jungkook looking for a snack, or Seokjin and his late night studying. It had been a habit that had grown since she had moved into the dorm and it continued when she and Seokjin moved into their place.

Now her hearing was in tune with her maternal feelings, keeping an ear out for her daughter who was only seventeen days old. 

It had been an adjustment getting used to being a mother to a newborn and while everyone joked that they had been raised by Grace in one way or another, especially Jungkook, this was her first time experiencing being an actual mother. 

Grace smiled into her pillow as she heard Seokjin gently shush Min-Ji who meowed to be let into the bedroom. There was a bit of whispering, more from Seokjin, and no one responded to Grace assumed that he had either been whispering to the cat or to their daughter, Bora. 

Her face turned neutral as the door to the bedroom opened, a flash of white fluff flying in and jumping on the bed. 

“You couldn’t wait,” Seokjin muttered with a sigh and using the muscles that came from his military training and subsequent gym visits and idol training, he gently placed his daughter down next to her mother.

Now his arm was free, he placed the many many bags of presents down at the end of the bed.

“I thought I said you don’t need to go overboard this year,” Grace muttered into the pillow, unable to feign sleeping anymore.

She opened her eyes in time to see Seokjin jump out of fright and then frown at her, putting a hand on his chest. “And this is the thanks I get for slaving over your favourite breakfast, looking after our daughter, getting all your presents collected.”

Grace snorted and rolled over, stretching with a yawn. 

Gently, she leaned up against the pillows and picked up her daughter, holding her close to her chest as Seokjin disappeared then came back with a tray. On it was a plate with a traditional full English breakfast (sausage, egg, bacon, beans, hashbrown and mushrooms) and a mug of tea. 

She honestly couldn’t wait to marry this man.

“Happy birthday,” Seokjin grinned as he pressed his lips to her forehead. 

May 14th - her birthday and her first one as a mother. 

Note: Happy birthday to Grace! (And two days ish early!) Thank you to all the readers who have been with Grace from the beginning and show her love every time. I appreciate you all.

[ilovewriting06]

Mischief and Angel- Part 2

"Gold or silver?" Stiles looks over as I hold up two doorknob options before shrugging, "Whatever you want, it's your room too. Should I get fancy duck tape to fix Rosco? Think he'd appreciate the bedazzling and stop breaking down on me?"

I roll my eyes and set the gold doorknob down before grabbing Stiles and pulling him towards check out, "You don't need anymore duck tape. Save the money for the wedding, Mischief."

Stiles scoffs, "Angel, we're practically rich. Ten dollars in duck tape won't break us."

At that Mrs. Mitchel seems to materialize out of thin air, "Wedding? Are you two gettin' hitched?" I glance at Stiles as he deflates because Mrs. Mitchel is the town gossip and if she finds out big news you better prepare yourself because the whole town's about to think you have three kids and a secret husband from Bora Bora. Poor Ms. Richards still hasn't convinced people she isn't married to a rich man in Bora Bora.

I plaster on a fake smile, "We're thinking about it, but we really should get going, we're having a special dinner tonight to celebrate Stiles' birthday."

I drag Stiles away before she has a chance to answer and he whispers, "Special dinner? My birthday? Angel, my birthday isn't for another two weeks." I roll my eyes before checking out and finally answer him as we walk out of the store and towards the jeep, "She doesn't know that, besides I plan on having a special dinner tonight."

He raises an eyebrow in question and I smirk, "Yeah, he's about 5' 11", has dark hair, amber eyes, and a nose that hits the clit just right when he's going down on me." Stiles almost trips over his own two feet before he practically drags me to the jeep, "Yeah, and what exactly do you plan to do with this dinner?"

I turn around and shudder at the look in Stiles' eyes, "Oh, Baby, I've got a lot of plans."

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

My eyes fly open when the bedroom door is opened followed by a wide eyed Noah that quickly covers his eyes, "Oh god, I'm sorry! I need to talk to Stiles!"

Stiles sits up straight at the sound of his father's voice before grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed and covers me up. We had been wrapped in a thin sheet but Stiles didn't seem convinced that it was enough.

He rolls out of bed and grabs a pair of sweatpants off the floor and jumps from foot to foot as he puts them on. When his sweatpants are on I can't help the small pleased growl that rumbles through my chest which causes him to shoot me a look and mutter, "Down girl, father in the doorway."

I chuckle before a something is thrown across my face that I recognize as the hoodie Stiles had been wearing earlier. I stay bundled in the blanket as Stiles slowly guides his dad out the door, "Alright Daddio, let's go this way and talk. Also, this is the exact reason we have a new door handle with a lock."

I snort after the door closes as I shove the blankets off my body. I slip on the hoodie before grabbing the bag with the new doorknob off the desk chair. I hum to myself when I realize that I need a screwdriver, "Well, I could go for a snack too."

I shrug and grab a pair of my shorts out of the dresser and slipping them on before skipping down the stairs. When I get to the kitchen I can see Stiles and Noah in the living room. I see Stiles groan and tune into their conversation, "How, how did she get that? Dad I swear, Y/N just made up an excuse to get away from her, we didn't even mention sex."

I raise an eyebrow and decide to ditch my snack. I walk into the living room causing Stiles and Noah to look at me before I ask, "What's wrong?"

Stiles frowns and throws his hands in the air, "Apparently you're a prostitute and convinced me to start an Only Fans and now we're rolling in the dough."

My jaw drops, "I'm sorry, Only Fans?! PROSTITUTE?! What the hell!"

Noah steps forward, "Mrs. Mitchel has it going around town that you corrupted Stiles and now you have to get married because you're pregnant and won't let Stiles be in the baby's life unless he marries you, and all that other stuff Stiles just said."

I want to laugh, it should be funny, but it's not. I growl and my eyes flash gold, "I would never keep him from his child. Never!"

Stiles wraps his arm around my waist from behind, "Easy tiger, it's okay, I know you wouldn't, dad knows you wouldn't, 90% of the town knows you wouldn't. It's just Mrs. Mitchel getting bored and ruining someone's day."

I lean into him with a scowl, "Yeah, well she succeeded. It was already a bad day and she made it worse." Stiles squeezes me tighter remembering the conversation from earlier, "Hey, we moved past that, we're okay, even if you do have an Only Fans."

I elbow him in the stomach and he grunts, "Okay, ow, just trying to be helpful." I roll my eyes before sagging against him, "Alright, moving on, I need a screwdriver to change the doorknob on our bedroom door. And fair warning, when I see Mrs. Mitchel again I swear to god there's going to be some words."

I shake Stiles' arms off before making my way back to the kitchen but I can't help but chuckle silently at what Stiles whispers to his dad, "Make sure no one arrests my fiancée for verbally abusing the elderly. I kind of need her close to me to be a functioning human being."

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

Stiles and I are sitting on the couch with his laptop in front of us as we scroll through wedding venues to get an idea of what we want. I straighten and pull my popsicle out of my mouth and point at the screen, "That, right there, I like it!"

He stops over a venue titled, 'Enchanted Gardens' before raising an eyebrow, "Enchanted Gardens? Really? You want to get married in an enchanted garden? Have we learned nothing about any and all things enchanted?"

I roll my eyes and lick my popsicle so the juice doesn't get on my hand, "It's just a name Stiles, it isn't actually enchanted."

"You hope."

I pout and look at him, "But look at how pretty. Just imagine it, we have those fancy chairs set out and beautiful green and white decorations. An arbor with white lace and flowers! Ooo, we could even have the reception out there! There's plenty of space and we wouldn't have to go anywhere else. Plus there's an indoor option incase the weather isn't cooperating and the waterfall, Mischief. Think about the pict-what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

I furrow my eyebrows as I look at Stiles who is staring at me with literal heart eyes and a lovesick smile. He shakes his head gently and brushes some of the hair that had fallen out of my bun away from my face, "Nothing, just admiring how beautiful and wonderful you are. If that's where you want to get married, that's okay with me. We could get married in a dumpster and I wouldn't complain."

I blush but roll my eyes, "We aren't getting married in a dumpster. And I don't want to make all the decisions, it's our day, not just mine. I want you to have things there that you want too."

He nods, "Okay, but Angel, as long as you're there, that's all I really want." My face heats up and I lean in and give him a quick kiss, "I love you." I pull back and he hums, "Mmm, tastes like strawberries."

I snort and hold my popsicle out to him, "Want some?" He shrugs and takes it from me, "I mean, if you're offering yeah, you know strawberries are my weakness."

I chuckle and take the laptop off his lap as he enjoyed my his popsicle. As he's lost in another world I open a new tab and look at color patterns, I know I want white and green but I want another color. It feels like there is one color that will tie it all together but I can't think of what it is. As I scroll I see gold and hum to myself, it goes extremely well with ivy green but it just doesn't give me that 'ah ha' moment I'm looking for.

I keep scrolling down the page and then stop, "Mischief, I think I found it!" He leans over and shrugs, "Uhh, colors?" I roll my eyes and click on the picture, "Not just colors, our wedding colors! You know we decided we liked green and white and I told you I thought there was something I was missing, and I think I found it."

He raises an eyebrow and lick his red tinted lips, "Pink? You want green, pink, and white?" I frown, "You don't like it?"

He shakes his head, "No, it's not that, I just don't see how you can tie it all together. Don't get me wrong it sounds good, but how are you going to get pink and green to go together? Wouldn't they clash?"

I shake my head and lean closer, "There's more than one shade of green and pink, Stiles. I think sage green and dusty rose would go really good together."

"Dusty...rose? That's a color?"

I blink and stare at the screen that currently shows a square of color, with dusty rose written under it before highlighting it, "Stiles, what does that say?" He make a little 'oh' sound and nods, "Yeah, okay, I didn't see that. I'm shit at colors so that is entirely up to you. I mean, orange and blue sound like great colors to me."

I smack the back of his head and groan, "We are not using the Mets' colors for our wedding!"

He huffs and licks the rest of the popsicle off the stick, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

I roll my eyes as he gets up to throw the stick away and I decide to change our search, "So, what do you want in our house?"

I feel amusement, and you guessed it, mischief flow through the bond before he answers, still in the kitchen, "Mmm, probably a kitchen and living room. A few windows would be nice and I think a door is a major selling point, ya know?"

I scowl and when he comes out of the kitchen and sees me he coos, "Aww, you look like a cute little kitten who's angry. Like, your ears would be laid flat and you'd have those squinty grumpy eyes cats have." I roll my eyes, "I swear, just answer the damn question."

He holds up his hands, "Geez, okay. I don't know at least two bathrooms because, kids, and we'll need what, three, maybe four bedrooms?" I purse my lips and nod, "Maybe five, we did say we want a lot of kids so better to go with an extra room that way we can have a guest room just in case someone burns down their house and needs a place to crash. Cough cough, Scott and probably Erica."

Stiles snorts and nods, "Good idea, we can torture him by moaning extra loud." I shake my head in amusement knowing Stiles would do it just to make Scott uncomfortable, "I swear, you are so mean to him sometimes."

Stiles shrugs, "I don't really care, you know how many times I've heard and seen him and Allison, and then him and Kira? More times than I can count. Not to mention all the times he tried setting you up with Isaac."

I snort remembering the 'subtle' hints Scott kept throwing out about how Isaac would make a really good boyfriend. Even after he found out Stiles and I were dating he would still occasionally say something which annoyed me and hurt Stiles even though Scott was joking.

Stiles plops down on the couch beside me and I curl into his side and rest the laptop on his thigh, "This feels so surreal, like a dream. I feel like I'm going to wake up and it would all be a dream and I don't have you anymore. It terrifies me how much I love you. The thought that I could lose you, it's comforting to know that it would literally be impossible for you to walk away, but Stiles, our lives are dangerous you could...you could still..." I can't bring myself to say it and Stiles closes the laptop and setting it on the coffee table.

He pulls me into his side and lifts my face so I'm looking him in the eyes, "Y/N, listen to me, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not completely defenseless and since we mated I can feel how much stronger I am. I know it's scary, it terrifies me every time we face the monster of the week because I could lose you, but Angel, I have faith in us. We always come out on the other side and we'll keep doing that. I'm going nowhere, I'm wherever you are. I love you, so so much."

Silent tears roll down my face and I grab his hand that's wrapped around my waist, "I love you too, Mieczyslaw, more than anything in the world."

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

That's how Noah finds them that night when he comes downstairs to leave for work. He can't help but smile at the sight, both of them asleep and Stiles holding Y/N close like she's the most important thing in the world, and he guesses that to Stiles, she is the most important thing in his world. Actually, no, that's not true, Y/N McCall, soon to be Stilinski, is his whole world.

[devilish-parrot]

Tally Hall themed names for pets:

you can also use this to name your children (or renaming yourself)

If you own a tally hall themed zoo(bin), then you know where to look for names

these are all of course only sugestions. im not forcing you to name you dog zirconium pants.

Most of this isnt serious but if you see some good ideas, go for it. youre welcome in advance

(this has been sitting in my drafts for months and ive lost motivation to finish it but you can roughly guess how it goes)

peoples names:

Zubin

Rob

Ross

Andrew

Joe

Bora

Casey

Marvin

Sally

Steve

Ryan

Colours:

Blue

Yellow

Grey

Green

Red

Orange

Black

Instruments:

Electric guitar

Acoustic guitar

Guitar

Ukuklele

Accordian

Flute

Drum

Piano

Keyboard

Microphone

Amp

Roland Amp

Violin

Bongo

Pair names:

What, When

Circles, Spirals

Birds, Bees (unfortunetly most people will think its a sex ed reference)

Mary-Kate, Ashley (most ppl will think its a direct reference to the olsen twins though)

Juno, Sun

Good, Evil

T, A-L-L-Y

Case, Bass

Click, Flick

Collectable, Delectable

No Answers, No Questions

Bubmle, Mumble

Once, Twice

Where, There

Here, There

Twice, Thrice

Direction, Voice

Double, Bonus

Bung Vulchungo, Zimbabwe Songbirds

Laugh, Kick it back

Rythm, Rhyme

Whether, Whatever

Whether, Anything

Bungalay, Bungalow

Too much, Not enough

Back, Forth

One Thing, Another

Spring, Storm

Enthusiastic, Alive

Silent, Explosive

Over Again, Never Again

Laugh, Clap

Serious, Delirious

Gallows, Ghetto

Town, Meadow

Billows, Over the Sun

End of a time, Another Begun

sky, all the land

Song Lyrics:

MARVINS MARVELOUS MECHANICAL MUSEUM

Good Day

Id like to say hello and welcome you good day

Glass eyes

Nothing

Something

Television

Cardboard houses

Xray Vision

Silly Rhymes

Telephones

Silly games

Periods

Question Marks

2. Greener

Greener

Seconds

Boulders

Weather

Breaking me slowly

Meaner

Cleaner

Greener shade of envy

3. Welcome to Tally Hall

T-A-L-L-Y

Mini Mall

Mega Mart

Eddie Thatch (most ppl will think youre directly referencing blackbeard)

WWTDH

Tizzy Hizzy

Carnival

Tally Hall (not the most creative but whatever)

Automated Players

Suave Fellow

Heterophonic Tunes

Proud Loud Guy

Sipping 'gnac (or Cognac)

Bill Laimbeer

Locksmith

Keys

Badiggle

Unpredictable Games

Antiqueties

English Chap

Knickers

Gall

Sterosonic

Animatronic

Robo-Electronic Ebonics

Quick Distraction

Mechanic Attraction

Good Old-Fashioned Puppet Show

Marionette Quintet

We think we're playing in a band

4. Taken For a Ride

Helpless land

Happy

Sadistic Mystic

Elavator

Fifteen Flights

Creatures

Listening

Painted Whispered Light

Forgotten Hill

Stranded Senate

White Brick House

Lonely Papaerbacks

Tiptoed

Wooden Sign

Lovely

One Secondary Smile

Extra Mile

Chemistry (is gone)

Taken for a Ride

Actor

World Renowned

Last real day of silence

Picture of a Letter

No Secrets (In the door)

5. The Bidding

Mmm-mmmmm-mmmm-mmmm (you have to hum the tune)

Cardboard Box

Liqor shop

Pavlov Dog

(Activate my) Bell

(Not a) Single Lady

Atmosphere

Continent

Hemisphere

Circumvent

Disappear

I graduated at the Top

(I like to take advantage of the) Bourgeoisie

Fantasy

Queen

Couple bucks

Gentlemen

Four Times a Lady

Dont shop Around

The Bidding

He's Sold

6. Be Born

Quite Content

Swimming Pool

Pink-Skinned Babes

Forever Young

See the Sun

Six Inches

Dozen People

Cry

(Follow my) Instruction

Little Ball

Bah/ Dah/ Baheyah

7. Banana Man

Colonel P.T Chester Whitmore

Bung Vulchungo

Zimbabwe Songbirds

Banana man

White Hot Sand

Banana Tree

Banana Flow

Mm mm mm mmm

Flame

Spirit

Spirit Game

Spirit Names

Spirit Cloud

Songbirds

Fire light

uptight

Little Fun

Bungalow

Bumping of the drum

Troubles

Go with the Flow

Whatever you may never know

Beckoning Man

African't

Nine o clock

Busy Town

8. Just Apathy

Just one state of mind

Something better

(no) Perfect find

Why i bother

Consider the Possibility

Im so tired

Inspired

I feel bad

I made her sad

I need to learn

Step blindly

close my eyes

Acting kindly

9. Spring and a Storm

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

Please stop complaining

Rain

Ground

Sky

Music

Clouds growled overhead

Thunder

Drained my soul away

Mr moon

Deep

Dark

Eternally high (great name for a giraffe)

Obscure

Star

Silent

Explosive

Create

Universe

Overworked

Re-crown

Creation

Over and over and over again

Never again

10. Two Wuv

little thing

just a fling

solely mine

mural

great eyes

fancies

apartments

enrolled in your school

bee

sadness

passes

im calling from tally hall

say that again slowly

lovliness blossomed

11. Haiku

trying

write

haiku

beyond

ancient asian poetry

lost in the sauce

formulaec verse

forte

tried attempts

lah da dee diddum lah dah dah dum ditto dum doo lah dee doh

sufficient

webster

12. the whole world and you

pretty people

sotries

passing letters

questions answered

metaphysical

astronomical

mystical

magical

la la la la la la la la la la la la

kings

distant cities

servisory

congratulatory

brewing

cooing

revealed the truth

not about me

retract

abstract

concluding

13. Ruler of everything

juno

juno was mad

shot at the sun

sun

wily

wily one only friend

mechanical hands

ruler of everything

ruler

everythung

jackrabbit

dance

zurconium pants

consequental

trance

walk

talk

disintegrates

chalk

wif

job

egocentric

mannerisms

wall

mirror

clearer

standing so tall

slobber

clovers

side of the hill

observing the birds

circle in for the kill

facade

scam

cry

detective undercover brotherhood

objective obscene

flibbity jibbity jibber jabber

word to sell story to tell

ringing the bell

comprehend

ubderstand

you resemble a fool

bumbling dragon

14. Hidden in the sand

playing in the sand

found a little band

bid adieu

buy a pony

15. Mucka Blucka

bluck

ba-bluck

a-bluck

blucka

bluck-bluck

blu-ha-ha

blaaah

mucka blucka

mucka-blah

mucka

mucka ba-ba

ba-ba

blough

blucka

bluck

bow

bluckity

blickity

bluck-bluck-bluck

blick

beeiiish

jerk chicken

Good & Evil

Never meant to know

lay of the land

feather in cap

sun in the sand

offered

together again

the earth can stay below

meat from the bone

perfectly equal

being alone

outermost clime

parts combine to one

around the sun

disarray

the sun the shadows cast

reasons on the other hand

2. &

love of the s*n

martyr claiming friends

either perspective of &

weak, strong

wet, dry

right, wrong

live, die

sane, gone

love, not

we forgot

hear it

dont deny it

high, low

new, old

stop, go

hot, cold

john, yoko

dark, light

good night

lesson fron their fathers

same command

lives stuck beside

words, numbers

sound, silence

stop the peace, keep the violence

no, yes

we digress

sad, hapenis (i know how to spell happiness i just cant unhear "ha penis oh god")

big bad betty

golden rule

jungle meet

nothing to love, no one to beat

thungs we know, things we dont

think, cant, will, wont

loath to gather

together, bereft

capitalists, communists

hokey pokey

hate eachother, love yourselves

heaven, hell

3. you & me

starting out a road

carefully unload

open-eyed

another seed to sow

getaway undone

divine, circular design

do do-do do-do

time, place

points along a line

keep on turning

sitting in the park

carefully remark

better when youre learning

in the dark

keep on turning

turn away and around

ive been coming down

4. cannibal

cavern

place where she can stay

darkness

obsessed

need to feed

willing victim

cannibal

rips out my bones

animal

blood is drained

calls it a game

wound

unimstakeable

dig up the skeletons

believe

corners disguised

phantom of glammer

feeding

conceding

5. who you are

appointment

sitting, waiting, hoping

air, night, airplane

flight overcame

distance

emmiting a glow

holding the thoughts

thinking too often

little aloft

not enough heart

armed to the teeth

fireside

falls down

rose up, rode underground

finding found

6. sacred beast

service of the king

almighty

in control of everything

queen decides

lives, dies

tonight we will sing

love, *humming and whistling*

easiest thing

mission

slay the sacred beast

claim our innocence

wont return

feast

riding high

hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm

easisest thing

mission

claim our innocence

it knows its only truth

made of lies

auht, ever-wise

compromise

other sides of our disguise

seperate peace

LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE AWSOME TALLY HALL CONTENT LIKE THIS!!!

[call-me-eds]

Written for the July @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘Pool’

WC: 442 | Rating: G | CW: none

Masterlist

“We’ll pool all of our money together and buy plane tickets to everywhere we’ve ever wanted to go, it’ll be amazing!”

Eddie had only enough money to his name for bus fare and a six-pack, but the sentiment was nice.

It was always nice when these private ramblings started. Eddie could go on and on about the establishment ruining the youth or how capitalism makes sure the poor stay poor and the rich get richer to anyone in hearing range, but he would only grant his deepest desires to Steve, and would barely even look at him when he did. The lack of eye contact didn’t take away from the intimacy, because they were always wrapped up in one another.

They were laying on the hood of Steve’s BMW, Eddie between his legs with his head on Steve’s chest. The moon barely lit their scene, and they were happy to stay hidden. Moments between just the two of them were far and few between.

“And where are we going to go first?” Steve asked, tipping his head back to exhale smoke from his dessert of Marlboros and Eddie.

“Bora Bora,” Eddie answered with such expediency it made Steve wonder if he had missed all of the obvious signs that his boyfriend wanted to go halfway across the world.

“What?” he asked, only halting his fingers scratching Eddie’s scalp for a moment.

Steve knew that Eddie hadn’t been outside of Indiana more than a handful of times in his life, so the urge to travel to unknown lands must have been strong.

Well, for all Eddie did for Steve, Steve would take him anywhere he wanted. It wasn’t hard to envision and immediately become obsessed with the thought of traipsing across Europe with Eddie. Steve would carry both of their backpacks, Eddie would obviously want to have his acoustic guitar strapped across his back to play as they had a picnic in front of the Eiffel tower.

He would have to leave it in the hotel room, though, when Steve took him on a gondola ride through Venice, and the world’s most romantic dinner in Madrid. Their dinners now were sweet enough to cause cavities, but adding the foreign excitement would make it all the better. Maybe even perfect. Certainly nice enough for him to drop to one knee…

Wherever they went, for however long, Steve give Eddie the best vacation of his life. To do that, though, he had better tune back in to the countries Eddie was rattling off.

“We can do Croatia, too. Basically anywhere that I get to see you in a speedo.”

Yeah, that made much more sense.

[dailykoreanpop]

SISTAR19 Confirmed To Make Comeback After 11 Years

This is not a drill: SISTAR19 is finally making their long-awaited return!

On November 17, it was officially announced that SISTAR19—the beloved unit consisting of SISTAR members Hyolyn and Bora—would be making a comeback in January.

SISTAR19’s upcoming return will mark their first comeback in 11 years: after making their unit debut with the smash hit “Ma Boy” in 2011, the duo’s last release was their 2013 single “Gone Not Around Any Longer.”

Further details about SISTAR19’s January comeback will be released soon, so stay tuned for updates!

Source (1)

Credit: Soompi

[kanene-yaaay]

The Cat and the Hare (I won't stop running so don't you stop trying to catch me)

Kanene's notes: EVERYONE WAKE UPPPP BECAUSE TODAY IS @squeaky-n-blushy 's BIRTHDAYYYYY and since she and I have a clown to clown communication and a lot of screaming around Pac and Cellbit I wanted to make a fic to celebrate this day and our friendship. Thanks a lot, bean, for being so cool!! <3 <3

And about the fic I am so Unwell about Pac and Cellbit's friendship like WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE YA KNOW??

Warnings: Uhh, I don't think there is any? There is a few mentions of hunting and prey but it's lighthearted and not too prevalent on the fic. Ticklish!Pac and Ler!Cellbit for the win. Around 8.000 words :D

[~*~]

Mike knows, of course. 

Sometimes Pac wondered if his soulmate was able to realize what was happening even before he himself did. It was one of the perks and pains of spending your entire life with someone who you could trust blindly with everything that could ever matter and who you knew as the palm of your own hand.

It was quite nice, most of the time. 

Except, of course, when Mike decided that he was going to be an insufferable prick about it.

“Não, não, não. Tá na hora de acabar com essa palhaçada.” (No, no, no. Time to end with this bullshit.) The annoyed shout was so out of nowhere that it almost made Pac fall from the roof of the Barbie house, turning to look at the other who was pointing at him with a hammer and seemed two seconds away from hitting him with it. “ ‘Fi, você vai lá falar com ele agora mesmo.” (Dude, you’re going to talk with him right now.)

Pac ignored how his cheeks already began prickling with heat, knowing in the same moment what the other was talking about. 

Shit, his feelings must have leaked through their soulbond.

“Qué que ‘cê tá falando, moço, tô sabendo desse negócio que ‘cê tá falando aí não uai.” (Whatcha ya talkin’ about, dude, don’t have any idea watcha you talkin about.)

“Num tá sabendo, é? Não tá sabendo, mas vai começar a saber agora e não adianta ficar me imitando não.” (Dunno, uh? You may not know but you’re going to start knowing right now and mimicking me won’t help you at all.)

Oof, he was with that determined look. There was no escaping for Pac in this one. Mike turned around, got a ladder and climbed it. He ignored the phantom feeling of bubbly giggles that definitely weren’t his began tickling the back of his throat joyfully. 

“Porque,” Mike continued. “Se eu tiver que ver o Cellbit mais uma vez e ficar com vontade de ficar dando risadinha que nem o nosso menininho, eu vou explodir esse Murder Mystery todo.” (Because, if I have to see Cellbit one more time and keep wanting to giggle like our little boy I’m going to blow up the entire Murder Mystery)

“Não, Mike!” (Mike, no!)

“ ‘Não, Mike’, nada! Eu vou, Pac. Vou explodir toda essa bagaceira aqui. Quer ver, hein? Quer ver?” (‘Mike, no’, my ass. I’m going to, Pac. I’m going to blow up all this clownery. Wanna see, huh, wanna see?)

“Explode aí então que eu quero ver. Bora, bora, que se dane já isso tudo!” (Yeah, blow it up, then, I wanna see. Let’s go, let’s go. To hell with all of this!)

Both of them stared at each other, Mike with the explosives on his hands and Pac with wide attentive eyes.

Silence passed like a lazy cat across them.

“Eu não, ‘cê tá louco, é? Mó trabalho que deu pra construir essa arena aqui e eu vou lá explodir ela agora.” (No, didya lost ya mind? So much work to build this arena, no way I’m blowin’ it up now.)

The one with blue hoodie crackled, muscles relaxing from being ready to sprint and steal all the tnt before his soulmate could use it in case it wasn’t a joke. Mike’s own laughter also followed his, getting closer until he was sitting by his side in a relaxed manner, green eyes watching him behind his crooked lens.

“Então, você quer que eu te fa��a cócegas?” (So, you want me to tickle you?)

His tune was nonchalant and Pac could literally feel how chill he was with his own words, perhaps even a little amused with the floating, excited butterflies that immediately appeared on their soulbond with his question.

The fact that Pac loved being tickled and to tickle his friends hadn’t been a secret between them for a long while, now. Had been discovered when they were just two little kids against the world in that orphanage and discussed in a late night whispered conversation in their first prototype of a laboratory. 

Mike knew that when, for some reason or not, he would suddenly get giddy, a little shy and a bunch more playful, carrying a giggle on the tip of his tongue and an electricity on his skin, it meant that Pac would love to get into a tickle fight or to become a mess of snickers as Mike kept sneaking the words ‘cócegas’ and ‘cosquinhas’ in their daily interactions and throwing at him one or two pokes of fun.

“Hm, quero dizer… você pode?” (Hm, I mean… you can?) 

He scratched the back of his head and avoided his eyes. The one wearing a green creeper shirt squinted at him. That wasn’t Pac usual “I’m feeling too embarrassed and silly but also excited to look at you right now”, it was more like his “uhhh, not sure how to say that you’re wrong uhhh.”

Mike sighed and crossed his arms. He was not going to move from there until this was solved and he knew Pac was fully aware of this by the way the other pouted in defeat. 

“Bora, fala logo, Pac.” (C’mon, spit it out, Pac.)

“Você lembra de semana passada, quando o Roier e o Cellbit estavam esperando pela gente na Ordo Theoritas?” (Remember last week when Roier and Cellbit were waiting for us in Ordo Theoritas?)

Mike tried to. Cellbit was a solid part of his family - even if he would have no qualms in immediately calling him out of his bullshit if he showed even a trace of coming back to that asshole he was on the prison - and he really liked Roier a lot but those two were so insufferably in love and happily married when they were together that it was hard to not roll his eyes at it. I mean, he gets it! He was too happily married but you wouldn’t see him around the Spawn or the entire island getting all lovey doey with Mine at every second of their day.

(The fact that Mine was a goodness and that their connection had been difficult and faulty since the first day they got stuck on the island was simply a detail and no, he didn’t want to talk about it.) 

Last week has been when the detective found some interesting information in an old abandoned laboratory of the Federation and called everyone for a meeting since it looked like it had potential to be about the eggs or the codes, if Mike wasn’t mistaken. Since he and Pac were around the Favela finishing some buildings at the time, they were the first to get there, finding the meeting room being already occupied by Cellbit and Roier in the middle of a tickle fight, - probably a started by Roier but which Cellbit was clearly winning - probably because they weren’t expecting anyone to appear so soon but also seemed to be too lost in their own silliness to even listen to the sound of the elevator or them arriving.

Mike just loudly complained and threw a few grinning teases at them, not thinking too much about it. Albeit, as it seems, that had been enough to bring Pac’s lee mood back to life.

“Lembrei.” (I remember.) 

They looked at each other. Since his hands wouldn’t be necessary, the one with permanently crooked glasses started messing around with the redstone system of the house, trying to fix it for the sixth time. “Bem, isso explica porque é sempre o Cellbit, então. ‘Cê vai pedir pra ele?” (Well, that explains why it’s always Cellbit, then. Are you going to ask him?)

Pac grumbled and flooped on the roof. “Não dá, eu já tentei. Fui tentar puxar uma guerra de cosquinha perto dele com o Richas mas eu travei e no fim eles foram embora. Eu não consigo, Mike, eu não consigo!” (I can’t, I already tried. I tried to start a tickle war next to him with Richas but I froze and in the end they went away. I can’t, Mike, I can’t!)

“Mas tu tem que tomar coragem, Pac. Tem que ir lá e falar mesmo. Se fosse eu, eu falava!” (But you need to be braver, Pac! Gotta get there and ask. If it was me, I would ask.)

“Falava é? Porque eu me lembro muito bem do seu primeiro encontro com a Mine…” (You would, yeah? Because I remember very well about your and Mine’s first date…) Pac’s laughter quickly transformed into a shout when the other pushed him, making him roll across the titles for a few centimeters before stopping. “Tu vai me jogar, homi! Tá doido, é?” (You’re going to make me fall, man! Are you crazy?)

“Sempre fui, sempre fui.” (Always have been. Always have been.)

They chuckled and, in between shoves and jokes, went back to their construction. 

Pac thought that the subject had ended there, then, that he would eventually get over his mood and continue his life. But he should’ve known that Mike was too annoying (caring) to let it go.

That was how he ended up like this.

Pac looked up, looking at those brown eyes shine back at him with a mischievous light. He squirmed a bit, but soon it was clear that he was totally trapped on the couch by the investigator’s body, who kept watching his expressions with curiosity and a hint of something else.

(It was hunger. Pac would recognize that glint anywhere.)

The scientist could feel each heartbeat in his chest and every butterfly flying on his stomach, small bolts of electricity scurrying away from his trapped wrist, fingertips twisting, almost being able to touch the sparkles in the air.

“Pac,” there were moments when Cellbit slipped and let one or two of his feline traits escape from his firmly constructed barrier. This time, it was in the way that his voice curled around his name, in a mix of a pleased purring and a warning growl that made a zing shot through his spine. “There’s no need to look so worried, I think you just didn't listen to my question very well in the first time… What is the code, Pac?”

If he wasn’t looking at his friend, he would’ve lost it, but the question was exactly what it looked like: an escape route. It was in the way that the hold of his right wrist loosened a little and how those brown eyes ran across his face - searching, poking, prodding, wanting to know - on the look for any trace of discomfort or fear, getting ready to jump away in the same second if he found anything. Pac was sure that he could just spill the eight numbers he knew by heart and then Cellbit would immediately get up, open the security door to the last phase of their puzzle and let him free to go.

Simple like that.

Quite boring, if he was being honest.

Pac grinned before letting his head fall slightly to the side, brows furrowing in a perfect confused face, voice light and just a tad too innocent.

(He wasn’t really afraid.)

(Cellbit could show himself to be as strong and ruthless as he wanted. Pac always had been the fastest one.)

(Just one of them had been able to get out of Alcatraz after all.)

“ Code? W-what are you talking about, Cellbit? I don’t know any code.” 

“The specific numbers that will open the door and let me finally get to the bottom of the mystery that I’ve been puzzling out for one entire week. That code, Pac.”

A small shudder took over his body, whether it was for the lack of his hoodie or the hand that suddenly came to dangerously rest on his side, it wasn’t clear. A wobbly smile blossomed in his face. 

That reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the other.

“Uhhh…” Pac pursed and popped his lips, resting his head on the cushions and looking at the ceiling, gaze quickly jumping across the room in a nervous manner. He still could feel those glimmering eyes on him. “I don’t really know any code.”

The fingers began curling on his side, short nails barely scratching the skin, he bit his lower lip.

“You sure?”

(Can I?)

“Y-yeah! I d-don’t even know what you’re talking about, moço. Just saw a sign that said ‘Free Food’ and got in the warplate and boom! Suddenly I’m here with you. We’re both kind of stuck here, you know?” His gaze went back to focus on the other, refusing with all his might to even acknowledge the twitching hand on his side that kept bringing awful tingles and freaking out the butterflies on his belly. 

He continued the rest of his sentence in one quick breath.

“It’s not like I am part of the puzzle and was asked to guard the secret code that could lead you to finally getting your final prize since it’s the end of the investigation and deciding to not give it to you. That would be totally crazy. I would never do that. Never, ever, in one billion years. Nuh uh. Nunquinha.”

Cellbit’s left eye trembled in a signal of poorly disguised stress. Bad and Bagi had the same habit. It was quite funny to see.

Pac jumped when the touch suddenly got firmer and a pinch was delivered on his torso. A high pitched squeak quickly scrambled from his lips before he could stop it.

Having already gotten the reaction that he wanted, Cellbit showed him a smile.

Oh no, he was absolutely screwed.

“Alright, Pac. I believe in what you’re saying. You’re part of the family so you would never lie to me, would you?”

The scientist watched as Cellbit’s hand lifted up from its spot on his side and began going upwards, slowly crawling along his torso until it stopped on his forearm, tracing on his skin as the other hand kept his arm all trapped and nice above his head.

His fingertips started dancing and scribbling on the spot, following the goosebumps that tried to run away from the tickles, spreading across his nerves and obliging Pac to firmly press his lips in a thin line, giggles getting ready to jump out at any chance on the tip of his tongue.

The investigator cleaned his throat, calling his attention once again and holding it with analytical eyes. His voice came out rough, slow, savoring every word. “Would you, Pac?”

Pac was glad that he didn’t even try to open his mouth to answer him because, as soon as the sentence was over, those fingers began scribbling on the senseless, ticklish spot that was his inner elbow, nails scraping and fingertips tapping in an absurdly light and soft manner, making a muffled ‘eee’ sound to be present in the back of his throat.

He remembered that he had an answer to give.

“Nuh huh.” He shook his head twice, holding his breath to not let any other reaction escape. 

“Ok.”

Eventually, Pac had to look away from him again. He could almost feel how Cellbit kept mapping out the exact points where his smile got bigger and his arm squirmed everytime another unexpected tickle spot was found so he could come back to it later. The tapping continued its way across his biceps, drawing abstract forms on it, taking its sweet to collect all the muffled titters and small twitches before going to the next one. With each step the curious hand got closer and closer to his torso. 

His attempt to not look at his demise proved to be fool and only made him lose the way that the investigator’s smirk grew wider at each one of his reactions, fingers momentarily spasming in a desire to dig - quick, ruthless and precise - on any and every ticklish spot again and again and again until he could rip that sweet, precious laughter from his stubborn friend-prey-Pac-fun and make it ring loud and free around the room. Until his protests were so intertwined with snickers and snorts that they would be too lost and make no sense at all. Until he was so high in laughter and giddy with the tickling that he wouldn’t even be able to think about hiding his smile and blush - which, by the way, had already begun consuming his neck in a lovely, lovely way - on his hoodie as usual.

He wanted to discover every sound that he would make and drink on every variation of his laughter, from the lowest chortle to the highest squeal. And, especially, he wanted to purr and tease him about how, even with all the chances, Pac didn’t even try to move his free hand to stop him and was instead watching his every move with those wide excited, joyful eyes.

But no. Cellbit needs to be patient. He needs to first cultivate every giggle, snicker and titter until they were too strong to be stopped and then, after weakening his every barrier so they would finally crumble at the lightest breeze and finally come tumbling down with just the hint of his moving fingers anywhere near him and his ticklish - so, so wonderfully vulnerable and ticklish - spots. 

Cellbit could be really good at that. Being patient. Stalking. Watching. Finding openings that could be explored.

(It has been a while since he and Pac had time to play like this.)

The traces and drawed forms continued until he got to his armpit and rested there. Tapping. Tapping. Tapping.

At this point Pac already felt like jumping out of his skin at every touch. He was torn between watching his slow and inevitable destruction or closing his eyes and then be bombarded by his own creative mind about all the different ways that his friend could tickle him right now. How he could simply give up from calmly teasing and prying his puffed squeaks or bitten gasps at any moment and just drum his fingers on his pit, maybe pull a surprise attack to his ribs or even keep the slow spidering until Pac felt so ticklish that a single wiggling finger would make him descend in immediate full belly laughter with minimal effort.

Cellbit’s next words were fast to pull him from his thoughts.

“Where is your worst spot, Pac?”

It was getting old, but once again Pac just shook his head.

“What? You don’t have one? Or you don’t want to tell me where is it?” The hands started swirling, creating spirals that went from the inside to the outside of his armpit. Cellbit watched in true amazement how such a soft touch made the other’s cheeks puff with the amount of squeals he was holding, his arm now trembling in his grip. “You know… I’m feeling like you’re hiding a few secrets from me. Are you, Pac?”

It took every single ounce of will from him, but the scientist pushed every and any giggle deep down so he would not look completely silly when the sentence left out  his mouth, not really thinking too much about it.

“Aren’t you our Favela’s detective? Why don’t you find out?”

Cellbit froze, just like Pac’s breath when he realized what he just said.

However, it was too late.

“I am joking! I am joking!” He shouted, watching with a wide stare as the other chuckled in delight at his answer. Low and dangerous. Always ready for a good, fun challenge. “You know how it is! Dumb Pac just being dumb again!”

“You’re not dumb.” Cellbit frowned, but it disappeared as soon as it came, a determined, amused expression taking over his face once again. “That’s fair enough, I think. So, what about we make a deal? I will discover your worst tickle spot and then destroy it with tickles until you give me the code to finish my puzzle.”

The swirling was back once again. Soft, unbearable, light and impossible to ignore.

“Deal?”

“...Deal.”

The detective rolled his shoulders and neck, as if preparing for a battle. “Perfect.”

A quick, small tweak on his armpit ripped a surprised snort from his mouth, which immediately made the scientist’s free hand fly to hide it, not expecting the sudden tickling nor the sound. 

“Careful there, bonitinho. Don’t go spilling everything already. I would hate for our game to end so soon.”

His hand went back to spidering, teasing the armpit for a few more seconds before going down to his ribs, scratching and watching as Pac turned his face around, pressing it firmly on his own shoulder, the blush fastly consuming more and more of him.

There was this horrible spot in that space between his back and ribs. Mike found it when they were kids and Pac didn’t know why, but it tickled like hell, so, in the very second that Cellbit’s fingers did as much as faintly graze it, his body immediately rolled away in an attempt to hide it. 

Cellbit’s eyes shone and he wormed his hand between the cushions and his torso, legs firmly preventing him from trying to roll even more as curious pokes assaulted the spot, making him arch his back and trash back to the other side, shoulders bouncing with trapped laughter. This didn’t stop the investigator from scribbling closely by the spot, no longer prodding or actually tickling it, just testing his reactions by tracing his nails carefully around and in an X over it. As if he was marking it for future reference. 

“One.” 

The way that the whisper echoed in Pac’s mind did not resonate with how calmly and low it was said. Before he could think too much about its meaning, however, another question quickly followed it.

“Do you know how many ribs there are in the human body?” 

The scientist, a very skilled profissional able to create the wildest substances and built the craziest buildings, actually blamed how giddy and distracted by the tickling he was for his answer. 

“Twelve!”

“Pffft!”

The investigator’s surprised wheeze filled the room and suddenly Pac knew that he would never be able to live this down for the next years, Cellbit’s entire face opening in a feral joy as if Pac just gave him an early birthday gift.

“Exactly. That is the correct answer. Twelve.” He replied, clearly trying to not laugh and putting on a serious face, again. He let go of his wrist. “Why don’t we count it together now, so we can confirm how right you are?” 

Before Pac could answer, Cellbit pressed his fingers, two in each side, on his highest ribs and tased. 

Maybe it was the teasing. Maybe it was how much sensitive his skin felt after so many minutes of light touches and soft tickles or how the sudden series of ticklish shocks ran fastly across his every nerve. Maybe it was the way his entire torso now seemed to be just one giant tickle spot. However, that move made Pac slam his hands to hold on Cellbit’s shoulders so his arms wouldn’t come and pin the attacking, tickly fingers against his body.

That only made Cellbit double his efforts to make him laugh, teases immediately permating Pac’s mind.

“Afraid of trapping my fingers here, bonitinho? Why? You’re not even really trying to stop me. Don’t you want them to keep tickling and tickling and tickling your ribs? Right in that delicious spot right here?” Cellbit pressed, buzzing taking over his senses and filling his lungs with uncontrollable crackles that made his torso shake with the force to contain them, wiggling non stop from one side to another and legs flailing around, all which only seemed to reinforce Cellbit’s determination. 

“No way! Is it really that ticklish, Pac? Tell me, is my hunt already over, huh? Did I already find your worst ticklish spot or are you just pretending to stop me from going looking for more? I wonder if all the other spots will be as bad as this one… But that is fine. It only means that we will have to stay here for hours and hours, experimenting and comparing every single one of them until we can finally decide which one is the worst. Unless you decide to tell me. That will make things go so much faster, don’t you think?”

He went to his next rib, giving it the same amount of attention and care as the previous one, scratches pursuing the entirety of the bone, tasing targeting the spaces in between them, quick scribbles concentrating on the places that made his kick his legs harder in a way to expel all the adrenaline racing across his cells, tiny squeals pushing against his lips with fervor.

“Or maybe you’re just that ticklish. A ticklish, little gigglebug. So, so sensitive and yet you still came and walked so wingfully right to my… claws.” The last part came out as an almost whisper, his sentence growing lower and lower to the end.

Pac didn’t mean to, but in that moment Cellbit jumped to his third rib and his barrier broke. Loud, crackling laughter exploding from his mouth in a melody that took over the entire room in the very same second, drowning every other sound and making Cellbit almost lose his concentration, tickling faltering for half moment as he was hit with… everything. 

With how big Pac’s smile was and how his blush seemed to climb over his neck and ears to pool on his face, how he threw his head backwards when he laughed and the fact that he was actually right because the scientist was too concentrated on the tickle attack and on keeping his hands locked on his shoulder that, for once, he didn’t even try to cover his face. 

Cellbit felt himself in a kind of a daze as he kept tickling his loud-friend-prey-fun-fun-fun! Each spot receiving all the scribbling and buzzing before he jumped to another, watching as Pac grew crazier and crazier with each second. 

His laughter didn’t necessarily get louder, but it took a turn from the wheezy, high pitched, hysterical crackles on the highest ribs to a much more uncontrollable giggling the lower he went. 

Pac squirmed and arched his back, a move that only managed to give Cellbit much more places to work with. He successfully got a few snorts and squeals when that happened and he took the opportunity to worm his hands under his black shirt and spider them on his lower back, making the scientist slam his back again on the couch and bring the tickling back to his ribs, which would then make him kick and wiggle again until another chance to attack his back would appear and Cellbit would gladly take it.

And he. kept. his hands. on his shoulders.

It took everything from him, Pac was sure, but he kept his grip firm, his mind being totally taken over by how much it tickled and everything else all at once. The dance and wiggling happening across his torso, the smug smirk on Cellbit’s face, the awe that took over his brown eyes when he began laughing, the prickle of heat on his warm cheeks and even the light touch of his own hair on his neck that kept sending silly, funny tingles through his nerves to his soul, leading the giggles to get giddier and his snickers to become more present in his laughter. 

When the detective got to his lower ribs, light pinching and then drumming his fingers there, between the unintelligible words that fell like waterfall from his lips Pac was able to push a single giggly plea amidst his senseless protests.

“Cellbit!”

The other immediately froze. Pac took the opportunity to take big gulps of air, trying and failing in not succumbing into more laughing fits during the process. 

At the second time that the scientist tried for the second to recompose himself and fell into more giggling Cellbit’s fingers twitched, wanting to make that sound ring once more across the room. Still, he didn’t go back to tickling him, aware that his friend indeed was a common human who needed plenty of oxygen to survive. 

He blinked and realized that his own grin was almost as big as his prey- Pac. As Pac’s grin was.

(He didn’t run away. He didn’t stop him. He didn’t fight back. Or shouted. Or hated him. He just laughed and laughed and laughed and Cellbit was the main reason for that. For that smile. Those excited eyes watching him right now. The joy. Even if it was a bit artificial, he was the one who did it.)

(He wasn’t quite sure what he would be able to do just to listen to his name being laughed out loud as this again.)

(He was… happy.)

Pac startled when another sound followed the last of his dying giggles. It was a low, almost inaudible, rumbling purr which, if it wasn’t the light feeling of trembling on Cellbit’s shoulders, he would never ever realize that it was coming from his friend. 

Before his brain could properly process this and then conjure a proper comment that could or not be a poke of fun - discreet enough that it wouldn’t be clear if he actually was talking about Cellbit’s feline traits or something else, - the detective voice cut the silence.

“Puts, would you look at that.” The feeling of the fingers crawling right back the top of his ribcage made him chortle and squirm, the tip of his fingers barely scraping his armpits. “I lost the count. Seems like we will have to start all over again, Pac. I need to keep up my part of the deal, afterall.”

“Espera!” (Wait!)

“One, two, three…”

He didn’t even try to stop his laughter this time, letting it fall from his lips freely. By the moment the counting ended he was already hysterically giggling just with the feeling of the other’s hands resting on his sides without moving, thumbs rubbing firm circles on his skin in a comforting manner that both made him want to melt and also kept a couple of stray snickers filling the air with the phantom tickles as he once again calmed down.

Pac stared at Cellbit’s brown eyes. There was something different there. Like, literally. But he couldn’t exactly purpoint what.

“Two.” 

Another whisper. 

Pac tensed, expecting another round of ‘counting your ribs’, although this time in an anatomically correct friendly version (how they got to the result that twelve was the actual correct answer a few seconds ago was a complete mystery to him since he was clearly very occupied dying in crackles) but the thumbs continued with their soft ministrations until he was back to melting, a low huff of laughter (and purring, however it seems like they’re both pretending to ignore that) leaving Cellbit’s mouth.

His fingertips began scribbling on the spot, fingers sometimes slipping under his shirt to scratch at the dip of his hips or on his trembling belly, making sharp intakes of breath to take over him as the scientist let go of the other’s shoulders to muffle his reactions, covering his face entirely. 

“Just laugh already, Pac. We both know you want to.” 

Cellbit began poking his sides, realizing that there was a lovely weak spot extremely close to his back that made Pac yelp and jump when he passed through it. So he took his sweet time to explore it, watching as a single poke on his right would make him trash to the left, where clawing fingers would be ready to excitedly squeeze his unprotected side over and over and over again until Pac eventually was able to squirm out of it and come right back to the soft, unbearable tickling of his other hand. His reactions dropped from kicking to shaking his head in protest as he kept holding all his titters and laughter inside, each second getting closer to break.

It was fine, though, Cellbit could wait.

Even so, he squinted his eyes at the other’s covered face, being prived from watching the moments when his mouth would become a straight line as he discovered a new tickly spot or how his eyes would instinctively close when his laughter grew stronger or how his smile increased when Cellbit would unexpectedly changed techniques, analyzing which one brought better results. The detective huffed in annoyment - Roier would call it pouting, but he wasn’t here so he was wrong - and added some more tweaks on Pac’s sides in protest, sulking way less when more and more muffled squeaks began appearing with each second. 

He didn’t want to exactly pry Pac’s hands from where they were, especially because he would have to stop his attack for that and there just would be no fun in that. His prey-friend-family-joy was so, so close to laughing it out.

Although…

Having his eyes covered could prove to be a good opportunity for a surprise. 

Cellbit began lowering his head, getting closer to the other’s extremely red ear, being careful to not let his beard tickle his neck - not yet, at least - to not alarm Pac of his plan. He made sure his voice had the lowest and roughest tune that he could make, letting his breath hit the skin freely.

“There is no reason for you to hold back your reactions like this from me, gigglebug. Besides, I mean, I thought we both felt the same about prisons and keeping stuff trapped, don’t we?” 

Pac, honest to god, shrieked when he not only heard but actually felt how close Cellbit was, scrunching his neck in an attempt to make the buzzing tingles disappear, unsuccessfully. 

“Well, then I guess I have no other option if you’re just going to try to keep all your snorts and hysterical snickers stuck inside when they should be free to rummage around. What is that phrase you and Mike are always saying, again?”

Pac finally gave up from trying to stop the other from talking so close to his ear and let go of his face to push him away, shiny eyes opening to stare at the huge, smug smirk on the detective’s face. 

He didn’t know exactly why until a movement caught his gaze.

Cellbit’s hand was hovering right above him, slowly clawing as it lowered in the direction of his quivering belly. Senseless protests and pleas began stumbling in flocks from him, the scientist attempting with all his might to suck in his stomach so he wouldn’t immediately and ultimately die and still hold his giggles as much as he could.

“Wait, I remember, now!” The hand dug on his belly. “There is no impossible escape.”

Screeching laughter filled the entire space and seemed to only fuel’s the tickling more, Cellbit’s other hand joining the fun to drum on every single patch of skin available, scratching and poking fingers immediately unlocking all loud snorts and chortles as they unmercifully prodded and wiggled inside his bellybutton, adding even more to his laughter. 

“There we are, bonitinho!” Cellbit’s happy shout probably held far too much pride for someone who managed to win such a childish challenge. But he didn’t care, immediately drinking the other’s reactions and comparing how different was Pac’s laughter when he tickled his belly - lower, less hysterical but seemingly stronger -  from when he decided to shove his hands on his armpits and dig - higher, fast and wheezy. How his fast kicking became a dance of squirming when he went from his ribcage to his sides and how much relaxed the grip on his shoulders became - even if his face got much redder - when he went right back at attacking his neck and elbows with light scribbles. Or even how he instinctively descended into a silent laughter, full of hiccups and squeaks, everytime Cellbit targeted one of the sweet spots he mapped on his torso. 

“Which one tickles more, Pac? When I attack your absurdly ticklish armpits” To help him to choose, Cellbit decided to demonstrate his question and scribble said spot, making Pac’s arms immediately slam down and a snickering fit to take place. “Or your very sensitive belly?” His adjectives were promptly proven true when he began clawing his stomach, inspiring more melodious laughter to appear.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!”

The other chuckled. 

“You don’t know? Well, I’m sure you will be able to figure it out, eventually.” He lowered his head again, no longer stopping his beard from tickling the poor unprotected neck. A squeal was ripped from Pac’s throat and another attempt to hide his ear by squeezing it on his own shoulder was made. It only made the detective change from side to side, though, having way too much fun to be so easily dissuaded. “Don’t worry about it, though, we can stay here for as long as you want. For hours and hours, if needed, testing every spot, every technique, every tease until you can finally decide.”

Pac shook his head and let out some more senseless pleas in protest, too lost in his own laughter to even begin to properly respond. He rolled to his side, forcing Cellbit to go back to an upwards position, not without purposely rubbing his beard behind his ears and neck, and for a moment his lips parted, preparing to-

(No.)

With all the squirming his loose shirt moved enough to show some skin and Cellbit didn’t really think too much before skittering his fingers on the patch of his back again.

Pac yelped and slammed back on the cushions, quickly turning around and holding, a childlike, high pitched giggling flying freely from his lips.

Cellbit immediately froze.

(He didn’t try to stop him until now.)

“Wait, wait, Cellbit!” 

The sentence was left incomplete as Pac snickered, bringing his hands (him) closer to his chest, still giggling even if the tickling had already stopped, eyes closed and smile going from one ear to another. 

He looked relaxed. Content.

Cellbit furrowed his eyebrows. He already discovered the answer for his part of the deal. Pac’s worst spot was clear as any white shirt washed with a good dose of peroxide after a hard day, but there had been little funny details in his friend’s actions that pointed directly to one direction. That last reaction being his main hint.

Oh.

Cellbit gets it, now.

“Your worst spot isn’t your favorite one, right? That’s your back.”

Wide, expectant and excited, black eyes found his and something clicked just right in Cellbit’s brain. A predatory grin suppressed his previous thoughtful expression. 

Pac didn’t deny it.

They were still in the game.

Pac was just so fun.

“Pac, Pac, Pac…” He tsks. “So you were actually hiding stuff from me.”

Easily freeing his hands from the loose grip, Cellbit observed as the scientist automatically began losing himself in sniggers, not even batting an eye when uncoordinated hands tried to grab his wrists again. He had an idea.

Pac yelped when two strong arms came and hugged him, all his protests coming to a halt with the sudden mix of soft embrace and firm restrain, leaving him frozen in confusion. The cushion at his side dipped as Cellbit put his weight on it and even if Pac’s brain began running a mile per hour he couldn’t get what his plan was here. 

With a swift turn Cellbit lifted him from the sofa and rolled, his moves fast and precise - even if still a little clumsy, by the way that the detective let out a ‘oof’ sound when they fell back on the cushions and he hit the furniture, - successfully exchanging his position with Pac and, which is even more remarkable as the fingers that lightly pressed on the lovely space between his shoulderblades reminded him: leaving his entire back unprotected and open for any kind of silly, tickly attack.

“Gotcha, gigglebug.”

One hand began quickly scratching his neck as the other one skittered across his spine, wiggling on every bone until it reached his lower back, pinches, scribbles and scratches joyfully attacking the sensitive spot, exploring every part of it and immediately making his giggling grow up to a notch.

Pac shoved his face on the other’s neck, shoulders bouncing with each laughter as tiny sparks of electricity seemed to follow every one of Cellbit’s touches as they tickled and teased every and any available spot of his back, successfully trapping him in a mix of childlike, high pitched laughter and wheezy chuckles. It was a little maddening how all his muscles seemed to relax with the soft tickles as his fingertips lightly ran across his back only to instantly jump with jolts and surprised squeaks as a sudden poke or tazing was delivered right on the back of his ribs or on in between shoulderblades, increasing his laughter and pulling more and more snorts for a few seconds, just when the comforting touch would to come and take over again.

It was the most amazing, unbearable, awful, joyful trap he could imagine. Being locked on Cellbit’s firm yet gentle embrace, adrenaline running hot on his veins as the feeling of safe but in danger made all the sirens in his mind scream and a warm feeling of trust to pool into his soul. The way that he was unable to actively defend his favorite spot - how did Cellbit even discover it so quickly? - without giving his friend free access to more other places he could attck, but also knowing that just holding his hands would immediately stop him made Pac let himself go and giggle and snicker hysterically non stop. 

Not to mention the literal feeling of the motor-like purr that was still present and also seemed to tickle him, his skin still feeling way too ticklish for all that buzzing. Especially since it seemed to only grow stronger every time that a special prodding on the base of his or a spidering on his upper back made him hug the detective closer.

Besides, Pac didn’t quite realize it, but with every hug he pressed his face more and more on Cellbit’s neck, his huffs and puffs of laughter resulting in shivers and wobbly smiles to escape from the detective as well.

They kept up that song and dance for a few more minutes until Cellbit got content after fishing all the wheezes, snorts, squeals and laughter he had stored, settling to massaging the nape of his neck as he calmed down. Still delivering one or two soft scribbles on the back of his ears from time to time to prevent him from falling asleep on top of him. Cellbit is still a very happily married man, afterall.

“Still alive there, dude?” 

No answer. Cellbit began blinking quickly, suddenly realizing that the room seemed much more illuminated and detailed than when he first walked in, his mind instantly going back to focus on the enigma he was after now that the chase-hunt-play was over. 

I mean, their deal. 

(Where did that come from?)

“What is the code?”

Silence.

“Pac?”

Said one lifted himself from the hug, a giant smile on his face and a few unshed tears glistering in the corner of his eyes. 

He suddenly wheezed when their eyes found each other, not expecting at all to see the full blown wide cat pupils staring right back at him. 

The confused expression on Cellbit’s face only grew bigger as he continued to blink non stop, probably bothered by the light.

“Pfffff, me dá uns minutinhos aí, moço. A cat just got my tongue.” (Give me a few more minutes, bro.)

And then he immediately jumped away from the couch before the meaning of his words could fully sink in the other’s brain. He felt way too giddy after all the fun and playful tickles, with wobbly steps and gleeful chuckles twirling in the air.

“Pactw…” The underlying warning in his tone - together with a hunt-warn-catch thrill and, oh. my. god. Pac needed to tell this to the others like right now - made Pac yelp and hold his hands in rendition, lowering himself in what could be a preparation to run away or an attempt to look smaller. 

“40028922!”

Cellbit kept staring at him, squinted eyes analyzing his every move and expression as usual. Sometimes Pac wondered what he found when he did this.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not! That is really the code and by the way I don’t have anything to do with it! They just told me to keep it.” As the other continued to look at him in disbelief, he started doing the orange justice dance, singing. “40028922 é o funk do Yudi que vai dar Playstation 2.” (40028922, it’s Yudi’s funk that will give you a Playstation 2)

Eventually, the detective got up from the couch and walked to the door, putting the numbers and watching it with one trembling eyebrow as the door opened effortlessly. He pinched his nose bridge with a groan and an amused huff. Knowing his luck, Cellbit should’ve expected something like that.

However, he quickly straightened his posture, combing his hair with his fingers and adjusting his coat. That was it. The last piece of the puzzle. The final level. He had no more time for playing around.

“Ok. Thank you very much for your cooperation and… trust, Pac. I appreciate it a lot. We make a good team when we work together.” He hesitated before stepping forward and didn’t quite look back, but Pac could feel those piercing brown eyes on him. “I know we were just joking but…You’re a good ally. You and Mike both. Hope we can keep fighting side by side in the future.”

“Y-yeah, of course! The Favela sticks together forever, right?”

“...Yes. We’re family. That is what we do.” Cellbit nodded and Pac mirrored him, even if the other was already getting inside the other room.

That was cool. 

Dramatic. 

But cool.

Pac was in the middle of sending Roier a message saying that Cellbit was heading in his direction when a thought went right through his brain, making him freeze.

“Wait.” He said out loud, looking behind to face the robot green rats that always followed him and Mike around. “Mike told him that this was like Roier’s idea and not some enigma left by the Federation, yeah?” 

He began biting his nails, thinking about all the steps and parties involved in this surprise that Roier wanted to give to his husband as a gift. He wasn’t the only one invited to participate in it. Mike, Bagi, Philza, Baghera, Badboyhalo… “I mean, someone must have warned him, right?”

The rat shrugged. 

Pac snorted, hand flying to his mouth before his wheezes could catch his friend’s attention and make him come back, quickly getting out of the place before Cellbit realized what he was really walking into.

(In the distance, he was almost sure that he heard a surprised shout followed by one laughter that, at this point, he already knew very well. But sometimes a good gossiper needs to know when to die for a fofoca and when to run away with half of it.)

(He needed to go tell everything to Fit first, afterall.)

[~*~] Fun facts!

The first part with Pac and Mike is inspirated in that bit they have going on where Pac mimics Mike's accent and in turn Mike makes it thicker and talks faster and they just keep it going on! They also use it when they want to do something illegal (like escape from the prision on the latest event) so the translator won't catch exactly what they're saying

40028922 is a very known number in Brazil because it was a phone number used to participate in a kid TV Show and one of the hosts had this jingle where he would sing song it and say that you would get a Playstation 2. It's so known that using it as a secret code it's a bit like... rick rolling the person.

It's not made very clear but this is kind of inspired by @squeaky-n-blushy 's tags on my guapoduo tickle hc and Cellbit is actually walking directly to the end of a puzzle made by Roier as a gift where his prize are tickles :D Yay!!

[kosmicpowers]

I like how this song is literally about the sex trade and all this dark stuff about doing things to survive despite it's cheery tune, Tally Hall were the kings of having fun songs with meaningful stories. I've been having some rather... turbulent days recently but if there's anything that always makes me at least a bit better it's these five (six if you count Bora) lovely guys.

I love the chorus where they hum in unison it's so hypnotic and Hawley perfectly encapsulates the mood of the sleezy, desperate protagonist and also the voice that Federman does for the auctioneer.

The metaphor of comparing men to Pavlov dogs was really affective in showing how the bidders degrade the men and see them as objects to experiment with despite how inhumane it might be.

...I'm not a professional music analyzer please just listen to this song you'll get it.

Everyone always says that Ruler of Everything is the best Tally Hall song and it's certainly a very complex masterpiece I'd have to write a whole essay for. But that can be applied to almost every song of this band. Yeah even Banana Man, it's a silly joke song but people have come up with all these different interpretations about it with all these meanings and while it may seem silly it really shows how impactful Tally Hall is. How passionate people are about it. How even years later we are still digging and almost obsessively begging for more almost like the main character in the song. (But PLZ stop hounding the guys on Twitter every second they have lives.)

[backslid2bts]

Club Dancing

Another leagues ahead drabble

SMUT! be forewarned

Warnings: oral (m-receiving)

A/N: This was the first idea I had for this world so it's a little special to the story in my mind. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Bora’s eyes went wide and jaw dropped as she turned to Yoongi when the beat came through the speaker. He recognized the tune, had heard her play it for their mutual friends before. She began rolling her hips to the beat while she danced towards Yoongi. He felt like a rabbit, frozen in the eyes of its predator, hoping that if it stood extra still and held its breath the creature would move on, but simultaneously his heart raced in excitement. Was this real, he wondered as her hands dropped onto his shoulders. His own hands stuttered in the air before he decided to place them on her hips. When the bass took a heavier turn, she turned to face away and her hands dropped to grab at his, encouraging them to press into her hips as she swiveled her ass against his crotch. Could this be happening? He could barely hear the music over his beating heart screaming in his ears. His blood was pumping alright, and he noticed only moments after she did that all that blood was going straight to his pants. She smirked, still facing away from him, and teased him with a slow, deliberate roll of her cheeks against his awakening member.

“One second,” He mumbled near her ear and walked towards the restrooms.

But Bora wasn’t going to let him get off that easily. She followed him into the bathroom and glared at the man already stood at the urinal, nodding for him to make himself scarce. She locked the door after he left. 

“Yoongi,” she called out sweetly. 

“Bora! What’re you-” he hissed as he flung the stall door open, eyes searching the room to find it empty.

“I’m following you, duh…i mean, if that’s ok?” Her bold demeanor faltered only momentarily.

“Yeah of course. I mean-  I just– you don’t have to.”

“Yoongi,” Bora deadpanned, “I wouldn’t step foot in this,” her eyes roamed the bathroom, ”pigsty if I didn’t have internal motivation to do so. Why don’t you just let me help you out?”

“I uh–” He rubbed at the back of his neck, failing to dissuade any of the heat that had risen there, “You’re like the hottest girl i’ve ever met. I figured you knew you were way out of my league.”

Bora blushed at his compliment. “You are very well within my league, Yoongi, so let me at least give you a story to tell about the hottest girl you’ve ever met,” She purred, pulling her hair into a quick ponytail. She pushed him back into the wall of the stall then trailing kisses and warm hands down his chest, kneeling as she went. Her eyes glanced through her lashes to find his wide in shock and arousal, pupils nearly swallowing his irises. Her fingers gently played at his waistband. She disconnected her lips from his body only to mewl, “Can I?”

“Yeah,” The affirmation was breathy as it escaped Yoongi’s lips.

Without hesitation, Bora unbuckled his pants and wiggled them down over his hips, planting kisses all over his stomach and hips.

“Fuck,” he hissed as his head lolled back. 

She continued to stamp kisses on his hips, the trail of feathery soft hair on his abdomen, and the creases of his thighs before finally taking his leaking cock into her delicate fingers and staring down. “Wow” she cooed, pumping the length slowly “he’s beautiful”. Yoongi looked down to face her once again, cheeks as red and hot as peppers. Without breaking eye contact she ran a wet lick over his tip, lapping at the precum. Yoongi huffed and ran his hand over his face and through his hair. She could see sweat already collecting at the edges of his forehead, a tiny drip running down his finely defined sideburns. She licked her lips and finally took him into her mouth slowly. As her lips neared the base she needed to do some adjusting, Yoongi was not necessarily the biggest she’d sucked, but he was nothing to laugh at, and the weight on her tongue made her hum in anticipation for when he might fill other places. A gruff groan and whispered curse filled the air above her. Bora took her hand away when his tip tickled her throat, going to cradle his balls in one while the other stayed near his base but not directly holding on. When she gagged slightly a whimper escaped his throat tailed by a nervous laugh and whispered apology. She pulled off, quicker than planned, causing him to quiver. “No apologies,” she looked at him sternly, “I wanna hear all your sounds.” 

She then began to suck him off in earnest, bobbing her head and swirling her tongue to taste all of him. “C-can I - ugh fuck - touch you?” The words were barely intelligible for the groans that rumbled through his throat. She hummed around him and nodded. His hands began to cradle her hairstyle. He still didn’t pull or force her in any direction, which she appreciated, liking to take control in this measure. A string of her drool dropped from where her lips met his base as she took him deep into her throat again. She slurped, dragging her lips back up to his tip and swirling her tongue around it dutifully. One hand stroked his length while the other pressed fresh acrylics into the meat of his thigh. Bora continued to slurp and bob around his hard cock, and Yoongi could only manage whimpers and hissed curses. His abs began to quiver and his hands squeezed desperately into her hair. “Fuck sorry gonna- fuck.” He growled and heaved. She wasn't expecting it so soon, but there he was starting to squirt warm cum onto her tongue. He looked down at her in embarrassment and panic seeping onto his face while starting to pull his hips back, but her hand quickly reached around onto his ass, pushing him deeper to aim his ebullition directly down her throat. She moaned at the feeling and kept sucking at every last drop. Only once his throbbing calmed did she let him go. She swallowed and wiped some mess from her wet lips as she rose to face him. If he had looked surprised when she began the process, he was now utterly dumbfounded. His pink lips were agape as heavy breaths passed through them steadily. His eyes were wide and eyebrows pinched in a mix of shock, confusion, and awe. 

“ I don’t– uh I haven’t – you um”

“You liked it?” she mewled coyly, saving him from his rambling. “Yeah” he breathed, looking down, still shell-shocked. “Haven’t been that…quick…in a while though.” 

She looked down to hide a small smile of shy pride. “It was cute.” She stood and walked her fingers gently on what was exposed of his collarbone before grabbing his chin and giving his cheeks a squeeze, her painted nails only slightly brighter than his cheeks at this point. She then turned to open the stall and waltzed out. He didn’t know what to do. Fuck, I need her. Was all Yoongi could think.

[boraxquinn]

[INFO]

#SISTAR19 Confirmed To Make Comeback After 11 Years

This is not a drill: SISTAR19 is finally making their long-awaited return!

On November 17, it was officially announced that SISTAR19—the beloved unit consisting of SISTAR members Hyolyn and Bora—would be making a comeback in January.

SISTAR19’s upcoming return will mark their first comeback in 11 years: after making their unit debut with the smash hit “Ma Boy” in 2011, the duo’s last release was their 2013 single “Gone Not Around Any Longer.”

Further details about SISTAR19’s January comeback will be released soon, so stay tuned for updates!

[lemonsandsadness]

(In the tune of 15 seconds of Bora)

FIFTEEN SECONDS OF BLORBOS YEAH!

[kimtaegis]

the members when they go to random interviews:

- so when is your album coming out?

- i don't know/i can't say 🤷

when they go to suchwita:

- so i wanna release another single and an album in november. have i told you that in march of 2024 i'll be releasing a docu with osts?

I LOVE THAT

ashgjj this is simply super exclusive knowledge that will NOT leave the bora borders, if you wanna know the hot shit you have to regularly tune into suchwita ok this is between yoongi, the respective member and us ONLY

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

[ cherry ] what is one thing you love about yourself? [ ruby ] give one random fun fact about yourself. [ bumblebee ] where have you always wanted to travel to? [ emerald ] bonus round: coffee or tea? morning or night? extroverted or introverted? hot or cold? fruits or vegetables? sweet or salty?

[ cherry ] what is one thing you love about yourself?

[I am resilient ... without going into details.

I have had other people collapse my entire life to rubble and I've managed to keep going. I don't exactly like that I've had to rebuild as many times as i have but I'll be damned if my ability to just survive through shit isn't just finely fucking tuned.]

[ ruby ] give one random fun fact about yourself.

[I wrote an entire horror novel last summer.]

[ bumblebee ] where have you always wanted to travel to?

[Honestly? if money weren't an issue I'd want to travel to Bora Bora or Belgium.]

[ emerald ] bonus round: coffee or tea? morning or night? extroverted or introverted? hot or cold? fruits or vegetables? sweet or salty?

[Coffee if I have to pick (I'm addicted to caffeine lol)

I'm an insomniac so night,

Extremely introverted.

I'd rather be cold than hot.

Fruits hands down.

Sweet. I love sweet tasting food.]