#how to build credit without credit card

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Crawling out of bed after an 11 hour shift only to realize that maybe. maybe I'm not exactly taking care of myself

[what-even-is-thiss]

Basic life stuff on Father’s Day your dad may have never taught you

Men’s pants often have what’s called vanity sizing so a 32 inch waist between different brands is actually different sometimes. It’s still a good idea to try the pants on before you buy them.

A flathead screwdriver can be used on a Phillips head screw.

It’s always morally correct to simply walk away from a salesman. You don’t need to buy a mattress to be polite. Just leave. Walk away. Skedaddle.

A complete meal has fat, protein, carbs, and some kind of fruit or vegetable. A snack should have carbs and protein. That’s how you stay full for longer and get your vitamins. It’s really that simple.

Dumpster diving is legal in many countries including the US, Canada, and Australia but trespassing and property damage are illegal. If you are allowed to be in an area and can access the trash without breaking anything you can just take stuff

You should be thinking about retirement savings even in your 20s and 30s. Get a mutual fund.

If you go gambling, only spend cash and pull out exactly as much money as you’re willing to lose from the atm. Never use a credit card in a casino if you can avoid it.

You can add a layer of seasoning to a cast iron skillet right on the stove. You don’t actually have to put it in the oven every time.

To build a fire, build a little pile of kindling first with plenty of air under it. This can be sticks or leftover wood from the hardware store. Doesn’t matter. Then light some newspaper or leaves under it. This’ll help the kindling catch on fire. Then you can add a log to it. The log needs a long exposure to flames before it catches on fire.

Fresh cut wood needs to dry out for several months before it’ll work as either building material or firewood. Several years is even better.

Flower delivery for simple bouquets costs less than you think it does and makes a nice gift for people who are hard to shop for

University libraries often let the general public get a card to check things out from them for a yearly fee. This is useful to know if you’re ever doing some specific research.

To make hard boiled eggs easier to peel boil them with just barely enough to cover and let a lot of the water burn off. Then shock them in an ice bath when they’re done.

If you or your pets end up killing a venemous snake by accident or in self defense you should bury the head so that no animals get poisoned by it because the fangs can still distribute venom

Tall people who visit your house can see the tops of your cabinets and bookshelves. Clean accordingly if you don’t want people to see dust.

Annuals are plants that will die after one year and perennials are plants that live for multiple years

If you feel gross and like your life sucks maybe try getting a haircut

[padawan-snack-packer]

Don't imagine Rex quietly fixing a younger clone’s armor after hours, muttering, "you gotta take better care of yourself, kid," while he polishes each scratch like it’s sacred.

Don't imagine Fives trying to teach shinies how to play cards, cheating outrageously so they win, whooping and hollering like they’re champions of the galaxy, and slipping a few credits into their pockets when no one's looking.

Don't imagine Cody staying up all night after a tough battle because he's personally stitching medals of bravery into the empty bunks of fallen troopers, so when they’re remembered, they’re remembered right.

Don't imagine Hardcase giving away his dessert rations to any clone who looks even remotely sad, acting like it’s a prank or a dare so no one knows he’s doing it out of love.

Don't imagine Echo re-learning how to shoot left-handed after his injury, stubbornly, painstakingly, so he can teach other injured clones that they’re not broken — just different.

Don't imagine Jesse carving tiny little messages into the walls of every base they’re stationed at. Messages like "501st were here. We fought. We lived." like he's trying to leave proof they mattered.

Don't imagine Dogma leaving tiny notes in people's lockers that just say "you’re doing good." "you’re brave." "I believe in you." — and then feeling too shy to admit it was him.

Don't imagine Wolffe pretending to be annoyed when Boost and Sinker sneak stray animals into the barracks, but secretly building a little hidden shelter for them behind the hangar.

Don't imagine Kix memorizing the medical charts of every single brother in his battalion — birthdays, allergies, old injuries — because he doesn’t trust the GAR systems to care enough (and he's 30000% right).

Don't imagine Tup tending to a tiny makeshift garden in the middle of a warzone with whatever seeds and scraps he can find, because "something’s gotta grow, sir."

Don't imagine Rex carrying every goodbye letters and notes he never got to say or give tucked in the seams of his armor or in a chest under his bed — every brother he couldn’t save, every friend he couldn’t reach — and still standing up the next morning because someone has to lead, and if not him, then who?

Don't imagine Waxer carrying around a crumpled, dirty drawing of Numa from Ryloth in a hidden pocket inside his armor, smoothing it out and smiling every time he feels like the war is eating him alive.

Don't imagine Boil pretending to grumble about it but secretly checking the drawing too, mouthing, "stay safe, little one," before every mission because part of his heart never left Ryloth.

Don't imagine Bly sketching little comic strips in the margins of his field reports to make Aayla laugh during debriefings — and still carrying the last one he never got to show her, tucked inside his chest plate.

Don't imagine Colt teaching his new ARC trainees how to properly tie a tourniquet and lecturing them seriously, but at the end quietly handing each of them a little lucky charm, like an old Republic credit or a braided cord, "for good luck, kid."

Don't imagine Appo still wearing a piece of Fives' blue paint on his armor as a "tradition" without telling anyone where it came from or why it matters so much.

Don't imagine Fox locking himself in his office after long shifts guarding Coruscant because he can’t stand seeing the brothers’ faces when they look at him like he’s a stranger now — so he sits in the dark and listens to the old 501st comms chatter recordings, just to feel something again.

Don't imagine Jesse and Kix starting a stupid prank war in the barracks where they replace each other's ration packs with terrible "mystery meat," laughing until Rex threatens to demote them — but Kix sneaks Rex a spiked caf packet later as revenge.

Don't imagine Tup painting tiny flowers on the inside of his helmet where no one can see them, tiny bursts of color against the cold plastoid — because he wants to carry beauty into battle even if no one else knows.

Don't imagine Dogma standing at the memorial wall and reading every single name out loud, even the ones he never knew, because he thinks someone should.

Don't imagine Waxer and Boil talking about "after the war" plans, like opening a repair shop on Ryloth, taking in lost kids, making sure no one else has to grow up the way they did — and laughing about it like it could actually happen.

Don't imagine Fives pulling a prank so chaotic that even Rex laughs — real, loud, helpless laughter — and Fives looking absolutely stunned before grinning like he'd just been handed the whole galaxy.

Don't imagine Rex tracing the scars on his hands sometimes without realizing, as if he’s trying to memorize every mistake, every battle, every time he almost didn’t make it — and then closing his fist around them like a promise to keep going.

Don't imagine Kix secretly saving every "thank you" note the boys have ever given him — crumpled sticky notes, bad handwriting, a piece of torn armor that just says "thanks doc" — tucked into his med kit like the most valuable supplies he owns.

[ramorazinn]

Please also remember that it doesn’t “disappear.” Specific stocks may end up worthless if a company goes bankrupt and doesn’t negotiate a stock deal with whoever buys the pieces, but the stock market as a whole does not go anywhere. Short of, say, the dictatorship some want, the market recovers. If you take out stock and turn it into cash money, you HAVE lost that investment. The $200 you invested is now a $100 bill (or whatever - and your tax return is going to be super fun) and the difference never comes back. If you leave it in, you still have the same number of shares, they’re just worth a different amount later.

It’s not a 1:1 example because my (minor) son’s money (from his dad’s death) is in a specific type of mutual fund, but that egg started in November 2018. After the COVID crash, it has STILL made over 5% per year on average to date, even though one of those years was -13%.

My IRA rollover from my old 401k (2013) is chugging along happily at around 9% lifetime average (it was about 11% pre-COVID).

The investment doesn’t “disappear.”

So the stock market is crashing or at least dropping. Is there a point when I should move my 401k savings? I know youre supposed to leave them alone. But im 25 and the thought of the 24k i have in there all dissappearing and needing to start over is stressful.

DO NOTHING.

Go outside and pet a tree or something instead.

Yesterday the stock market took a temporary drop. How much of a drop? I literally don't even know because I haven't logged into my brokerage firm's dashboard to look. It doesn't matter. And I have about twelve times as much money invested as you.

Here's why we don't believe there's a point at which you should move your 401(k) out of the stock market:

Wait... Did I Just Lose All My Money Investing in the Stock Market?

And here's a more detailed lesson on how to reallocate your retirement fund as you grow older so it's less invested in stocks and more in bonds, which is as close as we get to recommending you move things out of the stock market:

Investing Deathmatch: Stocks vs. Bonds

One last thing: There's a faction of conservative finance bros who are attempting to manufacture economic anxiety in order to influence the U.S. presidential election. Ignore similar freak-outs for the next few months. Keep to your personal financial plan and you'll be just fine.

Did we just help you out? Tip us!

[truthsinwhispers]

DuskJustTryingToDoHisJob.png

[ruinix]

recent walk in..sugar daddy quinn mad when he realizes you haven’t been using the black credit card he gave you for expenses

Hello, lovely. Of course, hehe.😏 You did not catch me writing this. I am just a ghost taking over the keyboard. I need to put this out before a new walkin comes out.... (edit not really fully sugar daddy!quinn. But he totally would pay for everything type of boyfriend)

Broken Promise, Broken Cards

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Spanking (pussy slapping??), Edging, Unprotected sex (protections, lovelies, they’re important), Squirting, Just Quinn being so angry that he became calm and he edges you coz he can.

Count: 3356 -> 3734 words (Edited) | Masterlist | Taglist

You’re sending him pictures of your shopping. One picture after another. One choice after another. Quinn helps you pick when you ask for his opinion. He has no problem answering your texts while he watches a replay of a game. The only problem is that Quinn has yet to receive a notification from any of your purchases.

With that, he can no longer focus on the game. It’s just white noise now while he refreshes his inbox.

Swipe down. Wait. Close the app. Open it. Swipe down.

Over and over again, whenever you send him a new photo of your successful purchase.

None. Not a single fucking one.

He is getting too agitated when he receives a photo of a paper bag of a particular brand of lingerie with your delicate hand holding it. You have your nails done earlier this morning. It’s so pretty with your favorite shade of pink and favorite flower designs. Just like how you described it before you went out. He can’t wait for your hands around him tonight.

‘Focus,’ he reprimands himself.

Shaking his head, focusing on the paper bag instead, locking in the brand, he gives the purchase a few minutes to process—or whatever the fuck—but again, nothing. He stares and stares into the screen, his eyebrows meeting. He remembers having every transaction on that card to be sent over his email too. He set that up long before. So, where the fuck are they?

Are you actually buying things or are you stealing them?

Did you bring cash?

Quinn didn’t give you cash for anything else other than your nails and the tip for its service today. His frustrations build up. He’s so close to calling the bank and making sure that the card is activated. When he receives another message, he takes a moment to calm down—he has to—before opening it.

He immediately gets distracted by how bright you look. You are grinning so much that the corners of your eyes crinkle, a blush flushing your face. Your nails are on full show once more as you hold up the bag next to your face. So beautiful.

After a solid five minutes, he remembers to refresh his inbox. Only then does it dawn at him.

Are you even using the card he gave you? No, that can’t be. You promised him to use that card today. You are definitely using it.

Aren’t you?

One last swipe down to refresh his email. Still nothing.

What the fuck.

You’re definitely not using the card.

Quinn paces. He’s getting angry for you breaking your promise, getting worried because you’re buying a lot of stuff today. More than you usually do. Didn’t you just complain about your depleting savings last night? It’s one of the reasons why he secretly transferred a few hundreds of dollars—exactly three thousand—into your account. He knows that you didn’t notice it, because you would’ve transferred it back to him after you lecture him about it. If it’s not that, did you suddenly replenish it in your own way? He quickly checks the date and confirms that it’s nowhere near payday, so that’s not it.

Where the fuck are you getting your spending money?

He refuses to acknowledge that you might be using your old credit card. The one with a fucking limit.

It can’t be.

There is no fucking way.

Something snaps in his head, pushing him to act. He rushes to your office, powers up your computer, and signs in without a hitch, because you’ve never put a password on it. If you do, he knows about your little notebook of passwords under your desk plant next to your monitor.

He never really goes through your stuff. He is content and trusts you with everything. Everything. He knows exactly how deeply you feel about him as much as he does with you. Although sometimes you hide your phone from him, that’s when you’re texting your friends about him. It’s obvious because you keep snickering while throwing glances at him. He doesn’t mind that. Not at all. You can talk to your other friends about other stuff. The fact still remains. He trusts you.

But, right now, he is losing it. He needs to see. He needs to look into your email. Just this one time. He’ll apologize for it later.

His eyes are locked on the notifications, the receipts, the confirmations. The account number on every single one of them is not the one on the black credit card he has given you. He had it memorized, and it doesn’t fucking match. You are not fucking using it. What the fuck.

An ache forms in his chest. It’s like a horrible backhand that could shake up his teeth, so horrible that he had to run his tongue over them, making a clicking sound to ensure his teeth are still rooted. He crosses his arms. His legs are spread wide as he slouches against the backrest, one leg bobbing up and down. He glares at the screen, trying to will the emails to disappear while he burns them one by one in his mind. He tries a different route to imagine the account number to change, but of course, nothing works.

He rubs a hand over his face. His head pounds at the start of a headache. His phone pings from another message. It sounds like a blaring siren, making his ears ring. After a few moments, a new mail pops up.

This is so much worse than you realizing the deposit in your debit. Because one, you broke your promise. Two, he feels useless. If you were not going to use the card, you could’ve let Quinn accompany you during this shopping spree that would at least appease his soul. But then, he can force his card into the hands of the cashiers. Realization hits him.

That’s exactly why you didn’t let him tag along. You know he’ll talk his way to overtake your payments. Exhaling, a chuckle escapes him. A smirk forms on his face as he gazes up the ceiling. You are such a clever girl, aren’t you?

He’ll give this to you, but you are in so much trouble when you come home.

As if on cue, you text him, “I’m on my way home.”

He turns your computer off, standing up. An eerie calm envelope him. He’s still so angry, yet instead of vibrating and burning outwardly, it settles deep inside his bones until nothing comes up. It’s an odd feeling. It’s not heavy. It’s not light. It just is. A calm before the storm.

He undoes his second top button. If you really want to use your credit card, you can. You’re your own person. Still, you should have kept your promise. Such a bad girl.

He walks back to the living room and sits down on the single seater, reaching the remote to close off every curtain, making his place dimmer and dimmer and dimmer.

Then he waits.

He waits until you come in with your impressive haul. Extremely impressive, because you have your arms full already. When you put them down, you only leave to get more of them until you get a little pile in the living room. It’s amusing how your grin looks so self-satisfied, not realizing that he’s sitting in the corner of the room, until your eyes land on him. Your smile turns sheepish, taking your hands behind you, not daring to come closer.

Truly clever.

“Hi, Quinny. Didn’t see you there.” You wave.

“My Love,” he greets, beckoning you with a finger, but you refuse to come, shaking your head. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to put these away.”

He watches you start with one bag with the little nightgown that looks so fucking sexy. You’re clearly distracting him and it’s working. Slightly. He obliges you, his amusement growing the more you ramble. You’ve enjoyed your shopping trip. You speak at a quicker pace than you usually do. You have a little bounce on your step. Your happy energy radiates from you in waves while you continue taking everything out of bags which you fold right after. He knows you’re aware that he knows. That’s why you’re taking your time.

Quinn’s aware that you are genuinely delighted that you distract yourself more than him.

He’s proud and happy that you enjoyed your day.

Truly.

It doesn’t erase the fact that he has already lost it. The calm that his anger turned is what’s keeping him from pouncing on you, from taking you over his lap and slamming his hand on your bare ass until you got handprints that will bruise and ache for a couple of days. Just like how you want them.

He still can’t believe that you’ve broken him just from breaking your promise.

It’s entirely laughable.

Yet heat streaks down his spine, down his lean abdomen, down to his cock.

He’s so fucking hard.

He stands up, stalking towards you while you’re crouching next to a pile of paper bags. You’re still rambling a pottery workshop you’ve come across. You’re saying that you want to go back there so you can make mugs for each other. When you’ve already successfully built a mug collection in one of his cupboards.

So adorable. So clueless about the danger prowling towards you.

He stops, his shadow looming over you. He counts the seconds, but you still don’t notice him, do you? Then he sees how your hands start to shake. You do. Silly girl.

A chuckle escapes him as he grabs your arm. He swiftly pulls you up then lifts you over his shoulder.

“Quinn!” You squeal, hitting his back a couple of times. “Put me down! You’re making me dizzy—”

You let out a moan when Quinn slaps the tender spot under your ass.

  “Quiet,” he orders, making you whimper like the dirty slut you are. “What did you say before you left?”

“Bye?” You sound so confused. “I love you?”

He spanks you on the same spot again, making you moan and whine. Even more when he slips his hand under your skirt, his fingers trail up and up, then he puts you down on the bed. Instantly, you flip over, looking at him like he has taken everything from you. He can already hear your protest that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue. He glares at you, daring you to speak them, but you don’t take the bait. You usually do.  Interesting.

“You bought a lot.” Quinn crawls over you.

His hand flattens over your sternum, effortlessly pushing you down.

Your pupils are so blown out when he levels his face with yours, his nose grazing yours, your breath mixing with his. He can smell the gum you chewed on before you arrived, the perfume you’ve sprayed behind your ears. Your eyes fall down his lips and up his eyes again, perfectly seducing him, but he refuses, moving away when you try to kiss him, your tongue darting out to entice him.

Not yet.

“Quinn,” you whine.

“Why’d you do it?” He asks. He kneels up, flipping you over your stomach, pressing a hand on your lower back to keep you from whatever you’re planning which is being  a brat.  

“I didn’t do anything,” you say with pout, shuddering when he slips his hand into your shirt. He unclasps your bra without exerting an effort, so used to your undergarments. “What are you doing? I haven’t showered yet.”

Quinn doesn’t fucking care if you showered or not. Since when did he care? He doesn’t care even if you come from a workout. He has fucked you like that. Many times. All sweaty and dirty. He already licked your sweat as he plunged deep inside your quivering pussy. You coming from a whole day of shopping is simple play for him. You’re just trying to get out of the inevitable punishment.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he rumbles against your ear. He slides his thick fingers under you so he can touch your tits. So soft. So perfect in his hands. Your nipples are so taut from anticipation and his attention. He pinches the sensitive peaks, your hips coming up to grind against him. He pulls away, receiving an unsatisfied groat. “Uh, uh. Answer me before you get what you want, you dirty slut.”

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He grits. He slides down one hand down your abdomen, down into the waistband of your skirt, down until he reaches and feels the wet patch on your panties. He presses and teases along your clothed slit. “See? So fucking wet. I barely touched you.”

“Quinn, please,” you plead, panting for more.

Why are you still not repeating your broken promise?

He’s getting so annoyed. He forces your clothes off, tearing every piece of clothing on your beautiful body. He ignores how much you complain, ignores your little ‘ouch’ because you’re full of shit. There’s no way it’ll hurt when he is tearing the fabric instead of pulling it against your fucking skin. Do you think he’s fucking stupid? Do you think he’ll hurt you that way?

He’s not a fucking rookie.

He keeps you down, spreading your legs by kneeling between them, watching how your pussy drips on the silk sheets, how your entrance quivers, begging to be filled. Languidly, he feels your folds. You feel so fucking good, so fucking soft, so fucking wet.

You gasp and moan like you’re already getting fucked. You’re just so sensitive, aren’t you?

Then he gives you a slap right there. On your dripping pussy. On your clit. His other hand grips your hip to keep you there when you attempt to crawl away, but he gives you another slap. Then another. Another.

You are moaning and writhing from the pain, begging him to stop, when you’re the one pushing your wet cunt against his palm. You keep seeking, even after briefly reeling away from every hit. Your eyes look over your shoulder, meeting his, begging and begging, mentally conveying, “More, more, more.”

Such a good slut.

His slut.

You’re his.

Quinn slides his middle finger into your heat, smirking at how your walls quivers around him. Your cunt is so red from his spanking. His thumb teases your other hole. You writhe, wantonly moaning, pathetically grasping the sheets for support.

You’re not running away now, huh?

Not when he is fingering you. Not when he pounds and puts pressure on that specific spot that has you screaming breathlessly. You want this so much. You’ve been waiting for a relief that he can easily give you.

He adds another finger, thrusting them into your pussy. Harder. Deeper. The squelching noises are music to his ears when it’s coupled with your moans and groans.

Then he feels the familiar pattern of your pussy walls. You’re going to come soon. He knows you so much. Knows your pussy more than you. Knows your little tells like how your thighs quiver, how your toes curl, how your back arches into the bed.

He knows it.

So, it’s so fucking easy to just…pull away.

You look back harshly. You look betrayed as your breaths come out choppy. Disbelief reflects in your eyes, not used to him not letting you come. He always makes you come. Not now though. Quinn takes his fingers from your arousal to his lips and slowly licks them, like he’s feasting on your pussy, groaning at how you taste. Fuck, you’re truly his favorite flavor.

“Quinn, I…” you call, your eyes tearing up. “You didn’t…”

He flips you over your back. He rests your ass over his thighs while your legs are spread out.

“Didn’t?” he mocks which you only process that as a question. You’ve already been dumbed by your pending orgasm, by your need for it.

“I didn’t come,” you whine, jutting your hips up the air, begging for another touch. “Please make me come.”

“Yeah,” he nods. That makes you smile, sighing in relief. Shaking his head, he silently says, “No.”

He doesn’t let you say another thing, plunging his fingers into your pussy. He fucks you fast and deep, thumb swiping over your clit just so perfectly, only to pull away when you’re on the verge of an orgasm.

By the third time, you finally understand what’s happening and you’re begging and begging.

Your pleas don’t reach him though.

They can’t. Not when he’s still not satisfied. Not when you still don’t say anything. However, the strange calmness that locked him is already dissipating the more he makes a mess out of you. The more beautifully and frustrated you cry.

Oh, his poor, sweet Love.

“Quinn, I’m sorry. I just wanna use my card.” You sob. “I’m sorry. Please. Please. I need to come. It’s been an hour.”

An hour?

You’re counting?

He pauses his torture, because you are finally talking.

You cover your face, hiding your fucked out face, hiding your beautifully blushing cheeks, hiding how your hair sticks to your skin.

“I saw you deposit money in my account again. I thought using my card would be a great revenge. Now, I know it’s not. This sucks! It hurts not to come. We both know you’re just going to pay the bill when it comes.” You sob, looking absolutely hurt and exhausted.

Quinn quickly pulls you up, soothing you with a hug. He sighs as you melt into his touch. You sniffle but your hand reaches between you two, tugging at his pants, trying to get to his cock.

“You have to make me come.” You beg, looking at him with your best puppy eyes. “Please?”

“You always beg so perfectly.” He tucks your hair behind your ears. “Wasn’t so hard to admit your wrongs, was it?”

“I know. I already said sorry—”

He cuts you off by pushing you back. He quickly tugs his pants down, pressing his dribbling cock to your pussy, shuddering at the feel of your trembling entrance. One swift thrust and he’s seated inside of you. Fuck. Your pussy is truly made for him. He perfectly fits. All of him. He can feel every crevice, every texture, every arousal that coats you deep inside. Shit. So good. He can come just by being inside of you, by feeling your tight pussy’s embrace. Did you know that?

But he knows that it’s not enough for you tonight.

You need him to fuck you, so he does. He fucked you hard and rough that your eyes are rolling up as you come. Even then you plead for more and more.

So he gives you everything. Changing the tempo here and there, going slow and deliberate, going back to a fast pace. He gives you everything because you deserve it.

Every time he feels that you’re about to come again, he whispers into ears, “That’s my good girl. Give me one more. That’s it. My good little slut. Take what you need. Come, my Love.”

Every time.

He draws out your fifth orgasm then he comes deep inside you, swearing loudly into your ear. He’s coming so hard that his eyesight dims. Your pussy milks every drop of his cum. How he still manages to flick your sensitive clit while he comes so hard is a mystery, but it doesn’t matter when you start to gush.

You’re making such a mess.

You always do.

“Quinn, oh my, fuck,” you cry out.

“It’s okay. I got you. Just let go, my Love,” he encourages, flicking your clit again and again, until you’ve successfully drench both of you. “No more?”

“No more. No more.” You shake your head, so he stops. “Kiss me.”

He obliges you, kissing you, whispering praises in between. You both spend minutes just kissing until you’ve calm down. Quinn gives you one last kiss before he stands to run a bath. He puts a few drops of lavender and chamomile oils in the tub. It’ll soothe you.

He comes back out to wrap you with a fresh and heated towel while the bath fills up. You look so spent, so Quinn holds you for a few more minutes, whispering more and more soft praises in your ear, because you’ve earned it.

When he hears the tub fill up, he takes you to it. He helps you in, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Just relax here. I’ll join you in a bit, okay?” He says as you settle. You nod at him as your eyes slowly blink. “I won’t take long. Don’t sleep. Not when I’m not here.”

“Okay, Quinny,” you say as you yawn. Your tummy rumbles. “Hungry.”

“I’ll get you a sandwich then I’ll make dinner after our bath. Sounds good?”

You smile at him.

His heart flutters, his stomach filling up with butterflies. He presses another kiss on your head, before he’s off, leaving you to have a little alone time. He got one thing in his mind.

He made his way to your bag that’s left behind on the floor. Humming a soft tune, he carries it to the counter, setting it down, as he takes out the ingredients for a sandwich. Just bread and your favorite jam. Washing his hands quickly, he fixes your sandwich, placing it on a plate. He also takes a fresh and cool bottle of water. It will do for a light snack before dinner, but he doesn’t take it immediately to you.

He sits on a stool, rummaging through your bag, finding your wallet.

He smiles at your photo with him there. It’s taken from a polaroid. He knows there’s another photo tucked behind it. It’s you and him in an ice rink that you had personally printed out. You’re truly cute.

He touches your face, heart pounding at how breathtaking you always look.

Even when you’re so fucked out, your beauty never changes. He can’t wait to grow old with you. He bet with everything he has and more that you will still look like the beautiful woman in the world, because you are.

Then he takes the credit card you’ve used today.

His smile never goes away as he stares at it for full minute.

Then he snips it in half and does the same to another and another.

Now, you only have one card left.

[gyubakeries]

𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘃𝘀. 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 | k.mg [TEASER]

a/n: finally! this collab has been cooking since the start of this year, and after six long months, i'm ready to share the teaser for my fic! that's showbiz, baby! is a collab close to my heart, because i've made some amazing friends through it. i'll forever be grateful for tara and kae for the opportunity to join this collab. without any further ado, here's a short sneak peek into loserboy vs. hatergirl!

shout-out to bennie ( @miniseokminnies ) for this cute banner!! bennie ilysm for making it even better than i envisioned <33 major credits for the title and most of the brainstorming that went into this fic goes to rie ( @okiedokrie-main ) ! without rie, this fic would be non-existent.

and lastly, thank you to all the lovely writers who are a part of this collab for welcoming me into the writer community! i love you all, and i know your fics are gonna be BANGERS!

p.s. don't question why the fic isn't formatted in lowercase please ..... i got too lazy to edit it </3

word count (for the teaser): 352 contents (for the teaser): corporate!au , IT specialist!reader , f!reader , social media intern! mingyu , light swearing , clumsy!mingyu

FULL FIC SET TO RELEASE ON - 30/6/25 @ 7 PM PST

check out the masterlist for that's showbiz, baby! -- here! please support all the wonderful writers participating!

summary: When Kim Mingyu, the new addition to the Social Media department of Sebong Corp., shows up at your office, requesting you to feature in one of the 'promotional tiktoks' he's been assigned to film, you tell yourself that it'll be your last interaction with the puppy-faced, hyper-energetic intern. A few months, twenty tiktoks, and a diabetes-inducing amount of sugar, you can't quite remember exactly why you had wanted to stay away from him in the first place.

You like your job, you really do. Sure, you hadn’t envisioned yourself working in the IT department of Sebong Corp, one of South Korea's most popular media companies, but you were satisfied, somewhat, with the way you had put your computer science degree to use.

However, there were a few moments that really made you question your job, life, and entire existence.

One of those moments being this:

It’s 9:05 A.M., and you’re not even close to reaching the office. You just got off the subway and you’re booking it down the street to reach work before your department head launched off into another lecture on how ‘today’s youth is late to everything in life.’

Behind all the cafes, shops, and people on the crowded streets of the commercial hub of the city, the tall, glimmering glass building of Sebong Corp. comes into view. An eager tourist might stop to take a few pictures of the sight, but all you can focus on is entering said building in time for your meeting.

You swiftly avoid bumping into most pedestrians taking a lazy stroll down the street, and only when the doors of the building are in front of you, you let your guard down and reduce your sprint to a brisk walk.

Big mistake.

After you swipe your ID card at the main entrance, thereby triggering the large glass doors to open, you stop in the office lobby to catch your breath. You’re just about to wave at Sunjae, the new receptionist, when all of a sudden, you hear someone curse loudly behind you, get abruptly pushed forward, and feel a strange wetness on your back. It smells a lot like coffee.

You’re not one for cursing in the workplace. Xu Minghao from HR is slightly terrifying when you see him deal with interns who forget to lower their voice while speaking in language inappropriate for work, and you like to remain in his good books. Now, however, you feel every drop of that restraint leave you as you shout loudly, for even Minghao’s ancestors to hear, “What the fuck?”

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head to the masterlist for more!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon illegally interferes with an historic UK warehouse election

I'm in to TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (Monday, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).

Amazon is very good at everything it does, including being very bad at the things it doesn't want to do. Take signing up for Prime: nothing could be simpler. The company has built a greased slide from Prime-curiosity to Prime-confirmed that is the envy of every UX designer.

But unsubscribing from Prime? That's a fucking nightmare. Somehow the company that can easily figure out how to sign up for a service is totally baffled when it comes to making it just as easy to leave. Now, there's two possibilities here: either Amazon's UX competence is a kind of erratic freak tide that sweeps in at unpredictable intervals and hits these unbelievable high-water marks, or the company just doesn't want to let you leave.

To investigate this question, let's consider a parallel: Black Flag's Roach Motel. This is an icon of American design, a little brown cardboard box that is saturated in irresistibly delicious (to cockroaches, at least) pheromones. These powerful scents make it admirably easy for all the roaches in your home to locate your Roach Motel and enter it.

But the interior of the Roach Motel is also coated in a sticky glue. Once roaches enter the motel, their legs and bodies brush up against this glue and become hopeless mired in it. A roach can't leave – not without tearing off its own legs.

It's possible that Black Flag made a mistake here. Maybe they wanted to make it just as easy for a roach to leave as it is to enter. If that seems improbable to you, well, you're right. We don't even have to speculate, we can just refer to Black Flag's slogan for Roach Motel: "Roaches check in, but they don't check out."

It's intentional, and we know that because they told us so.

Back to Amazon and Prime. Was it some oversight that cause the company make it so marvelously painless to sign up for Prime, but such a titanic pain in the ass to leave? Again, no speculation is required, because Amazon's executives exchanged a mountain of internal memos in which this is identified as a deliberate strategy, by which they deliberately chose to trick people into signing up for Prime and then hid the means of leaving Prime. Prime is a Roach Motel: users check in, but they don't check out:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

When it benefits Amazon, they are obsessive – "relentless" (Bezos's original for the company) – about user friendliness. They value ease of use so highly that they even patented "one click checkout" – the incredibly obvious idea that a company that stores your shipping address and credit card could let you buy something with a single click:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1-Click#Patent

But when it benefits Amazon to place obstacles in our way, they are even more relentless in inventing new forms of fuckery, spiteful little landmines they strew in our path. Just look at how Amazon deals with unionization efforts in its warehouses.

Amazon's relentless union-busting spans a wide diversity of tactics. On the one hand, they cook up media narratives to smear organizers, invoking racist dog-whistles to discredit workers who want a better deal:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/amazon-chris-smalls-smart-articulate-leaked-memo

On the other hand, they collude with federal agencies to make workers afraid that their secret ballots will be visible to their bosses, exposing them to retaliation:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/amazon-violated-labor-law-alabama-union-election-labor-official-finds-rcna1582

They hold Cultural Revolution-style forced indoctrination meetings where they illegally threaten workers with punishment for voting in favor of their union:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/business/economy/amazon-union-staten-island-nlrb.html

And they fire Amazon tech workers who express solidarity with warehouse workers:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/amazon-fires-tech-employees-workers-criticism-warehouse-climate-policies/

But all this is high-touch, labor-intensive fuckery. Amazon, as we know, loves automation, and so it automates much of its union-busting: for example, it created an employee chat app that refused to deliver any message containing words like "fairness" or "grievance":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak

Amazon also invents implausible corporate fictions that allow it to terminate entire sections of its workforce for trying to unionize, by maintaining the tormented pretense that these workers, who wear Amazon uniforms, drive Amazon trucks, deliver Amazon packages, and are tracked by Amazon down to the movements of their eyeballs, are, in fact, not Amazon employees:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-drivers-unionized-then-amazon-tried-to-terminate-his-contract/

These workers have plenty of cause to want to unionize. Amazon warehouses are sources of grueling torment. Take "megacycling," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM that workers are plunged into without warning or the right to refuse. This isn't just a night shift – it's a night shift that makes it impossible to care for your children or maintain any kind of normal life.

Then there's Jeff Bezos's war on his workers' kidneys. Amazon warehouse workers and drivers notoriously have to pee in bottles, because they are monitored by algorithms that dock their pay for taking bathroom breaks. The road to Amazon's warehouse in Coventry, England is littered with sealed bottles of driver piss, defenestrated by drivers before they reach the depot inspection site.

There's so much piss on the side of the Coventry road that the prankster Oobah Butler was able to collect it, decant it into bottles, and market it on Amazon as an energy beverage called "Bitter Lemon Release Energy," where it briefly became Amazon's bestselling energy drink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

(Butler promises that he didn't actually ship any bottled piss to people who weren't in on the gag – but let's just pause here and note how weird it is that a guy who hates our kidneys as much as Jeff Bezos built and flies a penis-shaped rocket.)

Butler also secretly joined the surge of 1,000 workers that Amazon hired for the Coventry warehouse in advance of a union vote, with the hope of diluting the yes side of that vote and forestall the union. Amazon displayed more of its famously selective competence here, spotting Butler and firing him in short order, while totally failing to notice that he was marketing bottles of driver piss as a bitter lemon drink on Amazon's retail platform.

After a long fight, Amazon's Coventry workers are finally getting their union vote, thanks to the GMB union's hard fought battle at the Central Arbitration Committee:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/04/26/amazon-warehouse-workers-in-coventry-will-vote-on-trade-union-recognition/

And right on schedule, Amazon has once again discovered its incredible facility for ease-of-use. The company has blanketed its shop floor with radioactively illegal "one click to quit the union" QR codes. When a worker aims their phones at the code and clicks the link, the system auto-generates a letter resigning the worker from their union.

As noted, this is totally illegal. English law bans employers from "making an offer to an employee for the sole or main purpose of inducing workers not to be members of an independent trade union, take part in its activities, or make use of its services."

Now, legal or not, this may strike you as a benign intervention on Amazon's part. Why shouldn't it be easy for workers to choose how they are represented in their workplaces? But the one-click system is only half of Amazon's illegal union-busting: the other half is delivered by its managers, who have cornered workers on the shop floor and ordered them to quit their union, threatening them with workplace retaliation if they don't.

This is in addition to more forced "captive audience" meetings where workers are bombarded with lies about what life in an union shop is like.

Again, the contrast couldn't be more stark. If you want to quit a union, Amazon makes this as easy as joining Prime. But if you want to join a union, Amazon makes that even harder than quitting Prime. Amazon has the same attitude to its workers and its customers: they see us all as a resource to be extracted, and have no qualms about tricking or even intimidating us into doing what's best for Amazon, at the expense of our own interests.

The campaigning law-firm Foxglove is representing five of Amazon's Coventry workers. They're doing the lord's work:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/05/02/legal-challenge-to-amazon-uks-new-one-click-to-quit-the-union-tool/

All this highlights the increasing divergence between the UK and the US when it comes to labor rights. Under the Biden Administration, @NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo has promulgated a rule that grants a union automatic recognition if the boss does anything to interfere with a union election:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

In other words, if Amazon tries these tactics in the USA now, their union will be immediately recognized. Abruzzo has installed an ultra-sensitive tilt-sensor in America's union elections, and if Bezos or his class allies so much as sneeze in the direction of their workers' democratic rights, they automatically lose.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/06/one-click-to-quit-the-union/#foxglove

Image: Isabela.Zanella (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ballot-box-2.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[covenofagatha]

The games we play

Rio Vidal x reader

When you get home after a long day of work, all you want is to spend some quality time with your girlfriend, but she's a little distracted playing video games

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: g!p Rio, bratty!reader, daddy kink, blowjob, sex

When you step into the elevator of your apartment building and press the button for the eighteenth floor, you can already feel half the tension from the day seeping out of your stiff limbs. 

Twelve hours of reading over contracts for your boss at one of the biggest law firms in the city has absolutely exhausted you—and you have an unfortunate ache in your back from sitting down for so long—and you just can’t wait to be home with your girlfriend. Despite the long day, you feel a flicker of heat in your stomach at the thought of her giving you some stress relief. 

The doors ding and open on your floor and you drag your feet against the carpet all the way to your apartment. You know the moment you get in, you’re just going to melt into Rio’s arms. 

Your girlfriend comes from money, her parents own an art gallery in New York, and spends her days painting and playing video games. She’s told you over and over again that you don’t have to work, that she’s more than happy to support you financially, but you do really like being a lawyer. 

Plus there’s no denying how worked up Rio gets when she comes to watch you in the courtroom. She says she goes crazy for your power, fully knowing that you’ll submit to her the second you get home. 

There’s nothing she loves more than putting you on your knees for her and then her jerking off onto your blazer. When she pulls out her credit card at the drycleaners to get her cum out of your suits, you swear you see her cock twitch. 

“I’m home,” you call out when you open the door and kick off your shoes. The kitchen light is on and there’s a box of Chinese food sitting on the counter with your name written on it. Your heart warms at Rio having dinner ready for you and you scarf down a few bites before going to find her. 

It doesn’t take long, because when you walk into the living room, she’s sprawled out on the couch, headset on, and focusing intensely on the television screen, where she’s playing one of her favorite video games. Her fingers rapidly press buttons on the controller and she moves her entire body the same way as her avatar on the screen and you snort fondly. You’ve never really understood the hype of video games so to watch your girlfriend be so absorbed in one is very amusing. 

She doesn’t even realize you’re home until you plop down on the sofa next to her, and even then she only spares you a glance and gives you a quick peck on the cheek before turning back to her game. 

“No, no, come on!” she exclaims, throwing a hand up and you have to duck out of the way. Her character falls to the ground with bullet holes in their chest. You sigh and take in her loose hair and green t-shirt and gray sweatpants and wonder just how long she’s been sitting here for. There’s an empty bottle of beer on the coffee table that her feet are resting on so at least she’s been drinking something. 

“Babe,” you say, gently shaking her arm. She looks at you out of the corner of her eye and you can hear people talking into her headset. 

“I’m almost done, doll,” she whispers and you slouch down. Being this close to her and breathing in her earthy perfume has your body growing warm and you eye her bulge through her pants. She shifts like she can feel you staring and your mouth starts to water. 

If she’s not going to pay attention to you and give you what you want, you’ll just have to take it. You slink off the couch and onto your knees and she looks down before raising an eyebrow. 

Rio covers the mouthpiece when you move her legs off the table and crawl between them so she can warn, “Be a good girl for daddy and let her focus,” without any of her friends that she’s playing with hear it.  

But you ignore her and grab onto her hips so you can pull her more down the couch, giving you better access to her covered cock. Rio swallows roughly and tries to focus, but when you rub your cheek against her length, she swears and you feel her cock twitch to life. 

“Work was really tough today, daddy,” you pout and begin to press open-mouthed kisses to her dick through the fabric. You look up at her with the doe-eyes that always make her weak and she makes a pointed effort not to give in. “I had to read so many contracts when all I could think of was you.” 

She’s starting to become hard and you circle your mouth around the tip before sucking and her hips jerk. When you pull back, the gray fabric is significantly darker on her pants from your saliva. 

“I just couldn’t wait to come home and be fucked be you,” you say wistfully. One of her hands drops down to rest on your head while you continue nipping at her cock through her sweats. You wonder if her friends can hear the muffled noises she’s making. 

There’s gunshots on the TV and she curses again before moving her hand on your head back to the controller. “You’re being distracting, doll,” Rio grits out and you smirk before toying with her waistband. She doesn’t put up a fight when you pull her pants down ever so slightly and reach into her boxers. She hisses when your skin touches hers and you take out her cock. You spit a dollop of your saliva onto her tip and she hisses. 

You run your tongue up along the underside and her body jerks. Rio isn’t fully hard yet, but it doesn’t take much to get her there—a few more licks and some mouthing at her tip, and her cock stands tall, already pinkening, with beads of precum gathering at the slit. You breathe in the musky scent and then exhale and your hot breath makes her shiver. 

Eyes flicking up to hers, you see that she’s still intently focused on her game so you slowly take the tip of her cock in your mouth and begin to bob your head up and down, never going too far down. Rio’s teeth sink into her bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the loud groan and you hear someone on the headset ask if she’s okay. You chuckle and the vibrations around her make her squirm desperately. 

The flush in her cheeks matches the color of her cock and you relax your throat before moving down further. Her head drops back onto the couch and another player swears and says her name. 

You come up for air, strands of spit connecting your lips to her cock that flops against her stomach. “Keep playing your game, daddy. I want you to win,” you rasp and her tongue presses against the inside of her cheek while she shakes her head. 

“Either way, you’re about to lose the ability to cum for a week,” she grumbles and you snicker before taking her cock back into your mouth. Her threats are usually always empty promises—all it takes is you begging and she can’t resist. Plus, she knows that it ends up being worse for her because you become a brat when she doesn’t touch you for any span longer than a day. And she can never abstain from teaching you a lesson. 

Swallowing around her cock, you get a thrill when she throbs in your mouth and lets out a muffled groan. You rub your tongue along the protruding veins and she thrusts up uncontrollably, shoving her cock down your throat and making you gag. 

“Fuck,” Rio spits out, and it’s hard to tell if it’s because of you or the game. The clicking of the controller buttons seems to be becoming more sporadic and you start to drive your mouth up and down her cock and she grunts lowly. You’re sure her friends have to be able to hear that—can they hear the choking sounds you’re making?

Your underwear gets wetter at the thought of them listening to you going down on her and your fingers twitch against her thighs, barely able to stop yourself from sliding a hand in your pants and touching yourself. 

Rio’s cock throbs again and you decide to suck on the tip while you stroke the base of her cock up to where your mouth is. The double stimulation makes her keen and she moves the microphone piece away from her so the sounds are muted. 

“God, you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” she taunts, more collected than you thought she would be. You suck harder and rub your tongue against her slit, more precum filling your mouth. She whimpers when you look up at her with wide eyes and her hazel ones are clouded with lust. “Daddy’s little slut?”

You nod and moan and your head starts to spin like you’re drunk on her. Your cunt is aching—you think you might be able to cum just from this. 

But it won’t be as good as it would be if her cock was inside you, so you pull back, gasping for air, and standing up. She cranes her neck to look around you at the TV and you almost roll your eyes. 

However, when you sultrily peel off your blouse that’s slightly wet with your spit, Rio can’t help but look at you. She bites her lip when you cup your breasts through your bra and nods when you unclasp it. Her hips jump when she sees your uncovered tits and another spurt of precum slips down her length. There’s no denying that your girlfriend is a tit girl. Rio’s fingers instinctively move on the controller, but her attention is solely on you. 

As it should be. 

You slide your pants down your legs, both of you ignoring how you almost lose balance, and she groans when she sees that you’re wearing the green underwear she loves so much. You tweak your nipples, coaxing them to harden, and then trace down your stomach sensually before dipping into your panties. 

Rio’s mouth falls open, movements stilling on the controller, when you show her the wetness glistening on your fingers. Her cock twitches again and spits precum on her shirt. You lick the wetness lasciviously and Rio gives you a pleading look before you take your underwear off too. 

Slick gets on your inner thighs when you step back over to the couch and then you straddle her legs and stroke her cock with your soaked underwear, coating her length with you. She’s completely forgotten about the video game and you can hear her friends furiously saying her name. 

And then you position your entrance right above her cock and take just the tip inside of you. Rio gasps, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out on her forehead, and you wrap your arms around her shoulders. 

“Finish the game, daddy,” you whisper before nipping at her earlobe, “then you can fuck me.”

She nods, all the color in her face pooling in her cheeks, and she holds the controller against your back. You slowly slide down her cock until she’s entirely sheathed inside you and you’re content to just sit there on her until she’s done playing. Her lean arms are holding you, her cock is steadily pulsing inside you, and her chin is resting on your shoulder—exactly what you need.

You keep waiting for her to be done, but it’s taking a lot longer than you thought it would and you’re getting impatient. Your cunt is clenching around Rio and you can feel your wetness leaking out onto her pants beneath you, but she is unfazed as she gets more immersed into the game. 

“Daddy,” you whine in her ear and she falters ever so slightly, “can you finish soon? I really need you to fuck me.” 

Her brows furrow and her jaw clenches but she doesn’t move. So you lift yourself off her cock, the emptiness gaping inside you, and then sit back down roughly, tearing a gasp from both of your throats. You roll your hips from side to side, heat building in you when her cock pulses and then you rut forward to get some pressure on your clit. Your moans are throwing her off and she keeps swallowing roughly. 

“I’m almost done, doll,” she says hoarsely, eyes flicking to meet yours with a pleading look in them, but you start to ride her anyway. Her cock fills you deliciously and your walls grip her each time you bounce back down and she hits your g-spot. Each time, you gasp breathily and her face twitches like it’s taking all of her energy not to give in. 

You swirl your hips, spelling out your name, and she sputters out a moan. Your head drops forward, face pressed into your neck, and you scrape your teeth against her jugular, panting against her pale skin. 

“Daddy, please,” you whimper and that’s what breaks her.  

With a growl, she throws the controller onto the chair next to the couch and rips off her headset, grips your hips tightly, and flips you over and to the side so that you’re laying down with her on top of you. She doesn’t miss a beat and begins thrusting inside you roughly, a loud moan tearing itself out of you. Tingles spread from your cunt to your lower back and up your spine and you arch up to get her in deeper. 

Rio clasps your throat with a hand while her other fingers dig into your waist and the pressure makes your head spin. It feels like you’re floating and the only thing you can do is babble incoherently. 

Your hands tug at the hem of her shirt and hike it up her back so you can feel her skin against yours. She’s hot to the touch and you’re sure you feel the same. 

Wet squelching sounds fill the room as she drives her cock over and over into you, never losing rhythm, and you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t being fucked out of your mind. 

Gunshots ring out on the TV and you hear her friends loudly cursing through the headset now on the floor and you clench at the realization that she didn’t even bother to finish the game. 

“Fuck,” Rio grunts, biting on your clavicle roughly. You gasp and buck your hips up and now her pace does stutter. She reaches down to circle your clit and you’re panting—you’re so close, the tension is building and it’s about to snap. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and it only burns brighter when she moves down your chest to suck at your nipple. 

It goes right to your cunt as if there’s a livewire connecting them and you sob. “Daddy, I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me,” she orders roughly, nipping at your breast and giving you three hard thrusts before you fall off the precipice and explode with a loud, guttural moan. She keeps fucking you through it and it sends you straight into another orgasm while she lavishes your tits. 

It’s too much, the pleasure starts to fray your veins, and you push at her shoulders. 

She chuckles darkly but pulls out and moves up your body so now she’s straddling you, cock in hand. You feel your clit pulse despite the overstimulation as she begins to stroke herself frantically. 

You know what she needs, what she wants, and you push your boobs together and roll your nipples while still breathing heavily. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Rio grunts and pitches forward, thick strands of cum shooting out and landing on your tits. You gasp at the warmth and she keeps fucking her hand, hips moving with the same steady, fast rhythm as she had when she was inside you, and she pumps out two more spurts of cum that dribble onto the pool on your chest. 

She doesn’t move from on top of you until her cock goes limp in her hand. You swipe your fingers through her mess and clean them off and Rio groans weakly as she gets off you and gently falls to the floor. 

“Did that make up for the tough day you had?” she asks, reaching up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. You laugh breathlessly, a little surprised that she even heard you say that. 

“It really did.” You lean off the couch and pucker your lips and she kisses you softly. “Although, I can’t believe you didn’t immediately start fucking me the moment I came in.” 

She scoffs affectionately. “I was playing my game!” 

Your eyes narrow. “Aren’t I much more fun to play with?” 

Rio rolls her eyes and snorts. “Of course you are, doll.” 

“So, next time—” She kisses you again to shut you up. 

You let her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── . 🛹 𖦹 ⋆ ࣪.  dream in college

happy reading. requested. library.

haechan. leather jackets. a different vape every day. smoking in the parking lot at night. he always carries a pair of headphones, wired ones. talks with everyone but lowkey lonely. attends to parties often, he's the guy you'd ask your friend to introduce you to. he's an open book, but at the same time he's full of secrets. if you take away all the jokes he makes, he's actually intelligent. relaxed. he'd probably do well in economics or administration. a first-class heartthrob, flirting comes out lightly and easily. or so they say, because when it comes to you, haechan is just a whole bunch of babbling and gaffes.

chenle. law or finance. he sees himself managing his family's company. no one beats him in class discussions, no one except you. you'd probably start a rivalry that grows and grows until you can't stand to see each other in the same place. expensive cars, elite parties, and a scandal in a hotel room. although his parents have mansions and luxurious apartments all over the world, he prefers the comfort of university dormitories. he doesn't attend parties much, his father cut off his credit card when he gave the whole party rounds of alcohol last time. he's pretty good at the dead stare when someone says something stupid. probably has the appearance of being petty, but in reality he's a moron with a lot of money. has a soft spot for smart girls, that's why he can't stand liking you.

mark. he misses most of the classes, but he's a brainiac. a bit popular but only because he's friends with popular people. doesn't know how he got the girl. architecture or robotics. he doesn't like parties very much but he attends because you're there. loud music on headphones. paper crafts . love letters. if you invite him home to study, you end up watching movies. and then when you fall asleep on his shoulder, he has no choice but fall asleep with you, head over yours. his hand somehow ends up intertwined with your fingers when you wake up. he's definitely not calm when it comes to you. he always shows how much he likes you. you simply don't read his misinterpreted signs well.

jeno. parent's sweetheart. multifaceted. bruises and sweat from the lacrosse team. he must maintain his sports scholarship by getting good grades, so he asks you for help. to you? a four-eyed one? what a horror! he breaks the prototype of a tough boy, he doesn't really know how big and strong he is. sometimes he gets tongue tied when he gets nervous... it happens a lot around you when you ask him big questions. he hasn't decided a career yet, so he takes some basic subjects. you make it look easy, he wishes he could have your brain, but he's satisfied with hearing you talk and talk and talk... he is also an easy sleeper. if he goes to parties it's because he's dragged you with him, but in the end his friends get all his attention and he leaves you at your mercy. his eyes, however, stay on you at all times, and his gaze becomes heavier when he sees you talking to a guy across the room.

jaemin. founder of the group of loners. a pair of girlfriends with one boy. he's always in big crowds but usually because he makes friends with outgoing people, so he ultimately attends to some parties. he's the guy you ask to take care of your drink when you go to the bathroom. physics and engineering. that he doesn't talk much attracts attention, he doesn't realize he's alluring because of that. you always see him waiting for someone on your way home, his gaze detaches from his phone the exact time you alert his presence. you're the last one out of the building. there's no reason for him to be waiting for someone, unless that person has left him standing. but you don't worry much and you continue on your way; perhaps, on another occasion, jaemin will be brave enough to confess that whenever you see him outside, it's him, waiting for you.

jisung. became popular without knowing how. college jackets, non-prescription glasses, karaoke nights. being shy makes him charming to cheerleaders. he's not very good at drinking, so he's always sprawled on a couch neglected by his friends at a party, always in your care out of obligation. quite lighthearted, sometimes you understand why people find him attractive. he'd go for whatever career his best friend chooses, he doesn't really care. he's gets talkative, and affectionate when drunk, telling you repeatedly how much he loves you and that he would choose you a thousand times over anyone. you only asked him if he wanted water.

renjun. painting or sculpture. quiet bus ride. childhood friends. shared headphones. in one way or another you distanced each other at college. now he has new friends, but keep waiting for you after class. don't go to parties much, he sometimes prefers to stay at home, he doesn't really like the idea of seeing you hook up with guys. he tucks you to bed when you knock on his apartment by mistake, and kisses you back even though you're drunk. or maybe you weren't. every time he has to paint or sculpture the model on top of the podium in the middle of the class, his gaze doesn't even pay attention to them, and he ends up drawing you.

[samanthacastano02]

He Calls you Clingy - Han Jisung

Han Jisung x FemReader

Word Count: 5.4k

Trigger warnings: angst, depression, thoughts of suicide, thoughts of the members being better off without her, poorly written. (I'm not a fan of how this turned out, I had started this when I was fighting with a friend and when the fight ended I lost my inspiration for the story. I might try and rewrite it at a later date or post an alternate version)

Summary: You had been best friends with Han since before his debut, you had always had feelings for him but kept them hidden. When you over hear him call you clingy, your relationship with him becomes strained. You aren't sure if there is a way to come back from what he said and made you feel. But if there is a chance, you are willing to try, for the sake of keeping him in your life but will that be enough for you anymore?

Photo's not mine, credit goes to photographers

Bang Chan | Lee Know | Seo Changbin | Hwang Hyunjin | Lee Felix | Kim Seungmin | Yang Jeongin

I had known Han since before he debuted, standing by his side through everything. I was by his side during the survival show, the late nights at the studio when he struggled with lyrics, the early mornings when he didn’t want to wake up, and I was there for him when his anxiety had gotten really bad. I had always thought that he would always be by my side, I mean after all that’s what he had promised when he went into the trainee program, he had promised that he would always be by my side and wouldn’t let anything come between us, no matter what. But there was one thing that I could never tell him, I was madly in love with him but I knew that he would never feel that way about me because all he ever saw me as was his best friend and at the end of the day that is all he would ever see me as.

Present:

Han had asked me if I wanted to spend the day with him at the studio while he worked on lyrics. I had the day off so I figured that there wouldn’t be any harm in spending the day with him. It wasn’t very often anymore that I got to spend the day with him anymore due to my job. I know that if I had told Han about how stressful my job was he would tell me to quit and that he would take care of me, but I can’t ask that of him. I know that he and I have been best friends for years now but I don’t want him to start thinking that I am friends with him because he has money. 

Even though he and I were hanging out, we weren’t talking but that’s usually how our hang out sessions usually went. Each of us doing our own thing but enjoying being in each other's company. That was one thing about Han and I, we didn’t have to constantly talk or do things to enjoy each other's company. 

“Hannie, I’m hungry and it’s about lunch time. Do you want anything yet?”

“Hmm? What?” “I was just asking if you wanted lunch yet, I’m starting to get hungry.”

“I’m almost done with these lyrics, why don’t you take my card and run and grab us something, bring it back here?” “Sure, I can do that. Anything in particular that you’d like?” “No, just get whatever you think looks good. You know that I’ll eat just about anything.”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon.”

With his card in hand, I make a quick trip to the restaurant down the street that both he and I like. I tried to balance the food and drinks while making my way back to the building, thankfully the front ladies knew me and were quick to rush and help me when they noticed that I was struggling with carrying everything and opening the doors. Once I got up to the floor that Han was on, I was quick to make my way to their studio. When I got to the studio I had noticed that the door had been left ajar and there were multiple voices inside. I could tell that it was Innie, Changbin, Felix and Seungmin talking and hanging out with Han, I was about to push open the door when I heard something that made my heart drop. 

“Hey Hyung, where is y/nnie?” Innie asks, noticing that my stuff is there but I’m not.

“She went to get us food, she’ll probably be back soon.” Han responded. 

“Why don’t you sound too excited about that?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know, it just feels like I am constantly seeing her.”

“Don’t you normally go with her when she goes to get you guys food?” Seungmin asks.

“I do, but she didn’t ask this time and I just needed a break.” “A break?” Changbin asks, sounding both confused and worried.

“Yea, she is so damn clingy all the time, she is constantly wanting to hang out and is constantly at the studio. When all I want is to just have the day to myself, she’s there asking if I want to hang out and if I tell her no she’ll throw a fit and that’ll just cause me more issues. Sometimes I really regret becoming her friend, if I had known that she would be this fucking clingy I wouldn’t have gotten as close to her.”

“That’s harsh Han, even for you. She’s your best friend, you know that she just wants to spend time with you because she doesn’t get to see you as often as we do.” Innie tries to defend me.

“Yeah but asking to hang out as often as she does. It gets so annoying and I just need a break, because I know that if I tell her no, she will throw a fit.”

“Han, that’s a little harsh. You know that she wants to spend time with you because she cares about you” Changbin tries to get Han to realize that he’s being harsher than he needs to be. But when he looks up, he sees me standing outside the door and he knows that I’ve just heard everything.

I take that opportunity to push open the door and enter the room, the rest of the boys smile and greet me but when I look at Han I can now see that he is doing his best to hide his annoyance with me. The boys try their best to involve me in their conversations but with what I had just overheard, it’s hard to interact and pretend that I’m ok. How can I pretend that I’m ok when I just found out that my best friend thinks that I’m clingy and that it gets annoying. After a while of just watching the boys interact with each other and trying to pretend that I’m ok, I do my best to come up with a believable excuse so that I can go home and actually let out all the emotions that I’ve felt in the last two hours. 

“Hey boys, I need to head out. I’ve got some prepping that I need to do for work tomorrow.” “Are you sure you gotta head out so soon? We haven’t seen you in forever, Noona.” Innie tries to convince me to stay  longer.

“I’m sorry Innie, but I really need to head home and get ready for work tomorrow. I’ll try to stop by when I have more time.”

“Do you want me to walk you down?” Han asks, I can see that he’s trying to not seem overly annoyed.

“No, no that's ok. I know that you are busy. I’ll see you later.” “Alright, as long as you are sure.” Han responds.

“I’m sure, it’s not dark out or anything. I’ll be ok, plus my apartment isn’t far from here, so it’ll be a nice walk.”

“Wait, you’re walking home? Why not have one of our drivers take you home?” Changbin asks, obviously concerned for my safety. 

“It’s ok, really.”

Before any of the boys can argue or try to convince me to take one of the company cars home, I grab my stuff and stand to leave. Han barely looks at me but the rest of the boys wave goodbye, to my surprise Changbin gets up and follows me out of the room. I know that he’s going to ask if I’m ok and honestly I don’t know if I’m ready for him to ask me that because the moment that he does, I know that I won’t be able to hold in the tears. 

“Y/n, hold on. Are you ok? I know you heard what Han said.” Changbin asked.

“I honestly don’t know Binnie.” 

“It’s ok if you aren’t. What he said was super harsh, and he definitely shouldn’t have said that about you.”

“I mean, maybe he has a point.”

“What are you talking about? What point does he have?” Changbin looks appalled by the fact that I agree with Han. 

“I can be clingy and I know that it can get annoying, so maybe what I need to do is back off and give him space. I know that’s what he wants but feels he can’t tell me.”

“Y/n, don’t do this. You know that this is going to end up hurting you. I know that Han can be a dumbass but you need to tell him that you heard him and that what he said hurt.” “I can’t Binnie, I really can’t. I can’t do that to him, I can’t make him feel guilty for how he is feeling. I do appreciate the fact that you are trying to protect my feelings but I got this handled.” “Alright, but if you need anything then please let me know. You know that all of us are here for you if you need anything.” “I know Binnie, and I am extremely thankful for that.” “If you won’t take a company care, then please at least let me walk you home. I don’t have anything for the next hour and a half.” “Binnie, it’s ok. I’ll be fine.”

Binnie realized that trying to convince me would be hopeless and that he wouldn’t win this argument with me. So at the doors of the company, he just asked that I let him know when I get home and to keep him updated on how my work assignment is going. 

“Binnie, there was no work assignment. I just needed an excuse to leave.” “Oh y/nnie.” The look of sadness on his face broke the dam that I had been trying to keep.

“I need to leave Binnie, before he sees and it makes things worse.” “Alright, just let me know when you get home, ok?” “I will, please try not to be too upset with Han. He can’t help the way that he feels.” “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”

Four Weeks Later:

I didn’t mean too but over the next few weeks I continued to pull away from the group. I didn’t want to be too clingy with Han, I knew that the guys would miss me but they were his friends before they were mine. I didn’t need to give him another reason to be upset with me. It terrifies me to be alone, with the boys being my only friends but maybe it’s for the best that I distance myself, maybe I rely on Han and them too much. 

As the days go on, it’s hard to not feel lonely and miss spending time with the boys but I can’t give Han another reason to be upset, I already can’t handle the fact that he thinks I’m clingy. I love him and he finds me clingy, the one person I love more than anything and he wants nothing to do with me anymore. 

Han’s POV:

At first I didn’t even realize that y/n had been spending less time around me and the guys, at first it was a nice break from her but as time went on I began to realize just how much I missed having her around. I could tell that the boys weren’t happy with me, but I didn’t know why she had stopped hanging around us. It’s obvious that the boys know but they weren’t going to tell me, if I wanted answers I was going to have to ask her myself. Out of all the boys she was closest to Changbin, I knew that he would know where she was. 

“Changbin-Hyung, can I talk to you?” I pull him aside after dance practice. 

“What can I do for you Han?”

“Why has y/n not been around as much?” “She’s just been busy.”

“For two weeks?”

“Han, why do you all of a sudden care? Two weeks ago you were saying that she was too clingy.”

“I was wrong. I was stressed, tracks weren’t going well, Channie-Hyung was on my tail on getting lyrics to him and I said the wrong thing. But she doesn’t know that I said anything, does she?” “God, if she knows that I told you this she’d kill me. She overheard you Han, she heard what you said, that’s why she left that day. She didn’t have an assignment that she needed to work on, she used it as an excuse to leave because she was barely holding it together.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Fuck is right Han, she has stood by your side since before our debut and has been nothing but supportive and this is how you repay her? And you claim to be in love with her?” “Fuck Hyung, you’ve gotta help me. Please, help me fix this with her. I do love her, I put my anger in the wrong place and it hurt her.”

“Because I want her to be happy and I want you to be happy, I’ll help you. But only if she tells me that she is ready to even possibly consider forgiving you.” “God I can’t believe I fucked up.”

Your POV:

It had been harder than I thought it would be to cut myself from the group, the depression was getting harder to deal with but it was my problem to handle not the boys, they already had enough to deal with. Some days it felt like my body was made of stone and all I could do was lay in bed and cry, some days I had the energy to get up and function. But more often than not, I was barely functioning, living off of power drinks and water. I functioned enough that I could complete my work but that was about it, there wasn’t much else that I could force myself to do. Han had been my support and when he called me clingy, that support fell out from under me. And the worst part is that no matter what, a part of me will always love him, even when I know that I shouldn’t. 

The past two weeks had been exceptionally bad, I could barely function, I had called out of work and I could barely get myself to shower. I wanted my Han back but he was better off without me, and maybe the boys were better off without me, maybe everyone would be better off without me. I was spiraling and felt like I was drowning, I felt like there was no point in staying, in living any longer. I was so in my head that I hadn’t heard my phone ringing, hadn’t heard Changbin trying to get ahold of me. I knew that had I looked I would see the panicked texts and calls from him, it wasn’t until I heard him rushing into my apartment that I somewhat came out of my funk. 

Changbin’s POV:

When I walked into y/n’s apartment, it looked like she had barely been living. The blinds were drawn, barely letting any light in, there were no dishes in the sink, just empty protein drinks and water bottles. She had been drinking enough to stay alive but other than that, she wasn’t living, she was slowly letting herself die. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fix this, the only person that would be able to fix this is Han. I quickly called him, needing him to get here as quickly as possible. While I call him, I pull y/n into me, holding her close to me, feeling protective of her.

“Han, I need you to get to y/n’s apartment as quickly as possible.” 

“Is everything ok? Is she ok?”

“No, she’s not ok and right now the only person that can fix it is you.” “Fuck, ok. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I don’t care if you have to hitchhike, get your ass over here now.” “Shit, ok.”

Twenty minutes later I hear frantic knocking on y/n’s door, I know that it’s Han. Y/n has a death grip on me and I am unable to pry her off of me to let him in, I know that he still has her key. With one hand I send him a text to just come in, when he finally gets his head on straight enough to open the door, he sees what condition she is in. 

“What happened?” “She cut herself off from the only support system that she had.”

“Fuck.” “You need to fix this Han, I am not about to lose her due to your stupidity.”

I manage to loosen her hold on me long enough that Han is able to slip in and take my spot, I know that they will figure it out and that I won’t have to help. Han gives me a nod, letting me know that he has it under control now and that he will let me know if he needs help. With a heavy sigh I leave her apartment, praying that things will be resolved. 

Your POV:

I don’t know what time I had fallen asleep, but when I woke up my head wasn’t resting on my pillows, instead it was resting on someone's hard chest. I was so out of it still that I hadn’t figured out who was holding me and why they were holding me. When I finally came too enough, I realized that it wasn’t Changbin that I was laying on, it was Han. I didn’t know why or how he was here but the selfish part of me wanted to bask in his warmth before he withdrew the warmth. 

I didn’t know why he was here but I was enjoying the comfort that he was bringing too much to bring myself to move out of his arms. I knew that once he woke up, whatever conversation that we ended up having would be difficult and I’d have to be alone again. I allowed myself to fall asleep again, allowed myself to take in the rare moment of comfort. 

The Next Morning:

For the first time in months, I slept for more than three hours. I knew that it was because of Han, and I also knew that the moment he left my sleep schedule would go back to being shit. I will have to talk to my doctor about getting on a sleep med after all of this is done. I could feel Han moving under me, so I knew that he was awake, and I knew that I could no longer put off the inevitable. 

“Han, why are you here?” “Changbin called me in a panic last night, told me that you weren’t answering him and then when he got here you were out cold, wouldn’t even wake up to painful stimulation.” “I’m fine. You don’t need to be here. Go home.” “You aren’t, and you haven’t been for a while.” “Why are you here? You haven’t cared for months, so why do you care now?”

“I have cared, but I thought that you wanted space, so I gave you the space even though I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you disappeared from our lives.”

“I overheard you, I overheard what you said.” “What do you mean?” “I overheard you the night you called me clingy, so I gave you what you wanted Han. I gave you space.”

“God, I don’t even remember why I said that. But that doesn’t matter y/n, I was way wrong, I don’t want space from you.”

“You can’t just change your mind Han, you can’t just want me around when it’s convenient for you.” “I want you around all the time, it felt wrong when you weren’t around. Not only did I miss you but so did the guys, I’m pretty sure Changbin was about ready to smack some sense into me if I didn’t come when he called me.”

“What do you want from me Han, you call me clingy, I give you space but then you decide that you don’t want space anymore. You are very confusing and I really really don’t know what to think.” “I want you to cling to me y/n, I want you to show up to the studio randomly, no matter the time of day or night. I want you to spend time with the guys again, I know they miss you. I want you to bug me about going out to restaurants, I want you to just bug me.”

“Han, how do I know that the moment I start doing those things again, you won’t flip on me again and change your mind?” “These last few months without you have felt like torture because I didn’t know what went wrong and why you weren’t coming around. I never want to feel this way again, I don’t want to feel the fear again that I felt when Changbin called and said that you weren’t responding.”

“I don’t know what to do or say Han, how can I trust that this won’t happen again?”

“Give me a chance to prove to you that this won’t happen again.”

“Han, I can’t handle this again.”

“I promise you, that I won’t do this to you ever again.” “One chance Han, one chance.” “That’s all that I ask.”

Two Months Later:

For the last two months, things have slowly been going back to normal between me and the rest of the boys. The relationship between Han and I is still strained, I don’t want to get close to him just to have him rip my heart out again. I don’t think that I could handle it again, I barely could handle it this time and that was without me telling him how I felt. I don’t think that I can ever give him the power over me to wreck me the way he already has. 

Changbin knows about how I felt regarding Han, but he also knew that I would haunt his dreams if he ever dared to tell him. I didn’t hang around Han as much as I used to, afraid that if I did he would think I was clingy again. But the rest of the guys were happy to see me and I was happy to see them, I had missed them and they had missed me. It was Minho’s turn tonight to host movie night, which meant that against my better judgment I would be seeing Han for an extended period of time. It was getting harder and harder to hide how I felt for him, especially now with how he had been acting, trying to make it up to me for being an idiot. Minho could tell that I was struggling with being so close to Han, and that I was close to panicking. I needed space, using the excuse of needing a drink of water I went to the kitchen, running into Minho. 

“If you need space but don’t want to leave, you can sneak away into my room. Soonie, Doongie, and Dori are hiding in there.” Minho said quietly, trying not to scare me. 

“Why are they in your room? Aren’t they usually out and about?” “With how many people were going to be here tonight, I didn’t want them to get too stressed out.”

“That makes sense, but I think that I’m going to take you up on that offer because it’s becoming too much but I don’t want to leave yet.” “Feel free to hang out there for as long as you need. I’m sure they won’t mind the company.” with that he walked back into the living room while I looked towards his bedroom. 

With a deep breath I walked towards his room, knowing that if I went back to the living room I would end up having a panic attack. When I entered Minho’s room, I saw that Soonie and Dori were hanging out on his bed while Doongie was hanging out on his nightstand looking out the window. I knew that I couldn’t force them to cuddle but maybe if I layed down they would lay with me, so I laid on his bed trying to not disturb the two who were already lounging. At some point I must have fallen asleep because I woke to the sound of his door opening. I thought that it might have been Minho coming to check in but to my surprise it was Han. 

“I was wondering where you’d gone. Of course you chose the company of these three menaces over us.” he joked lightly.

“I just needed a break and was apparently tired.” “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok. Just needed to be alone for a little while.” “I’m sorry, again.”

“I forgive you Han, it’ll just take time to get back to how we used to be.”

“What if I don’t want to go back to how we used to be?” he asks hesitantly.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t keep pretending anymore.” “Pretending about what? Han, you're scaring me.” “I’ve been in love with you for years. I thought that I would be ok with just being friends, but I’m not, not anymore.” “Why did you never say anything before?”

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” “Han, I’ve been in love with you for years. I thought that I had made it so obvious.” “Apparently not, but I guess that is why I’m part of paboracha.” “What does this mean for us now?”

“Hopefully, you’ll let me take you on a date and eventually call you my girlfriend?” “I’d really like that.” “Do you think you are up to joining the group for the rest of the movie night or do you want to maybe go lay down in my room and cuddle and talk?”

“Cuddling and talking sounds really nice right now. I’ve really missed my best friend.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He steps up to me, pulling me into him, kissing my forehead.

He gently took my hand, pulling me out of Minho’s room and into his own room. We laid down together but didn’t talk much, just enjoying each other's company. It felt nice to finally be held by him. I had dreamed of being held by him like this for years and truthfully never thought that it would happen. 

“Y/nnie, I want to take you on a date.”

“I’d really like that.” “I want to take you out tomorrow night.”

“Ok.” I say sleepily.

“Dress fancy but not too fancy.”

With that we both fell into silence, it was uncomfortable. It wasn’t long until I was falling asleep, the warmth of Han’s hold on me and the comfort of being in his arms finally as something more than just his best friend. 

The Next Night:

I was filled with nervous energy, not because I thought that the date would go wrong but because I was finally going on a date with the man that I had been in love with for years. I knew that I had no reason to be nervous, but I couldn’t help it. It wouldn’t be long until he got there and I felt nowhere near ready enough for this, and he would be here in ten minutes. 

When Han finally got here, I was excited yet nervous for the date to start. When I opened the door to let Han in, he surprised me by having my favorite flowers. I think I had told him once in passing about what my favorite flowers were, so to have him remember meant a lot to me. Once the flowers were in a vase and I was ready to go, we headed out to dinner. 

After Dinner:

Dinner had gone so smooth that we hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. It was only when I let out a big yawn that I realized just how late it was. Han had decided that he didn’t want to take me somewhere super fancy, rather to a cute diner that he and Minho had come across. As Han walked me up to my door, I could tell that neither of us wanted the date to be over. 

“I had a really good time tonight Hannie.” “I’m really glad, I was nervous about messing up tonight.” “I’m sad that it’s over.” “I don’t either, I miss having my best friend with me. And now I’m gonna miss you even more, knowing that you feel the same.” “Hannie, would you maybe want to come inside? I-I don’t feel like being alone tonight.” “Y-you want me to spend the night? Are you sure?” “I am, but only if you are comfortable with it.” “Yes, yes. Let me shut the car off and then I’ll come in. Go get your pajamas on, I’ll lock up when I come in.” “Ok, Hannie.” I say quietly, kissing his cheek.

I was pulling on my t-shirt when Han knocked on my bedroom door, not wanting to invade my privacy. He was being shy and sweet and it made my heart swell with love for him. 

“Hannie, you can come in. I have some of your clothes in a drawer from before.” “Perfect, I’m gonna change in the bathroom and then I’ll be out.” “Don’t take too long, I want cuddles.” “Of course Jagi, can’t deprive my girl of her cuddles.” “Oh, I’m your girl now?”

“Aren’t you?” “I don’t know, I know we’ve both admitted our feelings but other than that we haven’t really talked about where to go.” “Let me change and then we can talk.” He quickly ran into the bathroom, trying to change quickly. In his rush he must have missed the leg hole of his pants or something because not long after he disappeared I heard a loud crash coming from the bathroom followed by an embarrassed I’m ok.

“Hannie, did you just fall over?” “Noooo.” 

“Ok, dork.”

He shyly exited the bathroom, holding the t-shirt I had given him. I had seen his tattoos before but it still caught me off guard every time I saw them. I was slightly confused as to why he didn’t have a shirt on, he usually was pretty good about wearing a shirt unless he was really warm.

“Han, not that I mind but why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” “Umm, it doesn’t fit anymore. The seams damn near ripped when I tried to put it on.” “Oh. Um, that’s the biggest shirt of yours that I have.” “Is it going to make you uncomfortable if I don’t wear a shirt?” He asks as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Not at all, you know that I like skin to skin contact. It’s calming and relaxing to me.” “Then let’s lay down.” he crawls into bed.

As he lays down I thought that maybe we would continue to talk but rather we just enjoyed each other’s company. As soon as he laid down he pulled me into him, holding me close to him like he was afraid that I would disappear if he let go. When I looked up at him, his eyes kept flickering between my eyes and my lips. 

“Hannie, can I try something?” “Sure.”

“Can you close your eyes?”

When he closed his eyes, I slowly leaned into him, I could feel his breath hitch. I didn’t let that sike me out from what I wanted to do, before I could second guess myself I gently pressed my lips to his. It took him longer than I thought for him to respond, I thought that he might be rejecting the kiss but right as I was about to pull away he wrapped his arms tighter around me and deepend the kiss. Kissing him felt like having a breath of fresh air for the first time in years. 

“I’m never letting you go now Jagi, you’re mine until you stop wanting me.” He said quietly.

“Then I guess I’ll be yours forever. I love you Hannie.”

“I love you too y/n, and I’m so sorry it took me almost losing you for me to get my head out of my ass and actually come clean.”

“It’s in the past, let's focus on our future.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Listening to his breathing as he slowly falls asleep, I know that everything is how it should be and that life will continue to get better as long as I have him by my side. I curl into him more, finding comfort in his presence next to me, knowing that all is how it should be and will continue to get better.

Bang Chan | Lee Know | Seo Changbin | Hwang Hyunjin | Lee Felix | Kim Seungmin | Yang Jeongin

@vietjeb , @riri53, @expired-vibes

[drdemonprince]

Generally speaking, here are the order of financial priorities:

Build an emergency savings of at least 3 months worth of living expenses

Pay down all high-interest debts, such as credit card debts

Build an emergency savings of 6 months - year worth of expenses.

Place some of your savings in a high-yield savings account (or money market fund) that you can still access easily without penalty if you need that money.

Start considering investing in something that yields a higher rate of return, but requires that you let money just *sit* in that investment for months or years at a time (CDs/bonds/index funds/a 401k [which is really just a type of index fund usually]).

Learn how to let your investments just sit without constantly looking at them or worrying about them! This is a skill that requires time, practice, and sometimes research to develop.

As your circumstances change and your familiarity and comfort with investing grows, tweak your exact investment strategy as needed. (For example, shift some money from index funds to bonds as you get older, or move CD investments to stocks as interest rates go down).

[transmechanicus]

Vampires who act like you’re insane for getting a job are just stubborn pricks without the psychic fortitude for job applications. Oh what’s that, i don’t need a job bc i no longer have food bills? Cool, cool cool cool, how tf am i gonna pay rent bitch? Or a mortgage on any place more cushy than an extant example of every possible violation of building safety code? You think nobody’s gonna do the math when i pay up with a different dead guy’s credit card every month? You’re cool with just never engaging with the progress of technology and digital infrastructure? You aren’t ever gettin concert tickets again that you didn’t pull from your lunch’s pocket? Stressful fucking life, i’m out here in the hospital basement making fat stacks and yoinking fresh bagged blood while you have an SI kill team breaking down the door of your condemned little duplex bc you do all your shopping via combination fraud, robbery, and homicide.

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about How to Pay off Debt

Understanding debt:

Let’s End This Damaging Misconception About Credit Cards

Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”

Dafuq Is Interest? And How Does It Work for the Forces of Darkness?

Investing Deathmatch: Paying off Debt vs. Investing in the Stock Market

How to Build Good Credit Without Going Into Debt

Dafuq Is a Down Payment? And Why Do You Need One to Buy Stuff?

It’s More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

How Mental Health Affects Your Finances

Paying off debt:

Kill Your Debt Faster with the Death by a Thousand Cuts Technique

Share My Horror: The World’s Worst Debt Visualization

The Best Way To Pay off Credit Card Debt: From the Snowball To the Avalanche

The Debt-Killing Power of Rounding up Bills

A Dungeonmaster’s Guide to Defeating Debt

How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke 

Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: “What Do I Do If I Can’t Pay My Bills?” 

Slay Your Financial Vampires

Season 4, Episode 3: “My credit card debt is slowly crushing me. Is there any escape from this horrible cycle?” 

Case Study: Held Back by Past Financial Mistakes, Fighting Bad Credit and $90K in Debt 

Student loan debt:

What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans

Ask the Bitches: “The Government Put Student Loans in Forbearance. Can I Stop Paying—or Is It a Trap?”

How to Pay for College without Selling Your Soul to the Devil

When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans

Ask the Bitches: I Want to Move Out, but I Can’t Afford It. How Bad Would It Be to Take out Student Loans to Cover It?

Season 4, Episode 4: “I’m $100K in Student Loan Debt and I Think It Should Be Forgiven. Does This Make Me an Entitled Asshole?” 

The 2022 Student Loan Forgiveness FAQ You’ve Been Waiting For

2023 Student Loan Forgiveness Update: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly 

Our Final Word on Student Loan Forgiveness 

Avoiding debt:

Ask Not How Much You Should Save, Ask How Much You Should Spend 

How to Make Any Financial Decision, No Matter How Tough, with Maximum Swag

Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist

Two-Ring Circus 

Status Symbols Are Pointless and Dumb 

Advice I Wish My Parents Gave Me When I Was 16 

On Emergency Fund Remorse… and Bacon Emergencies

Should You Increase Your Salary or Decrease Your Spending? 

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

The Magically Frugal Power of Patience

The Only Advice You’ll Ever Need for a Cheap-Ass Wedding 

The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It 

3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income) 

Buy Now Pay Later Apps: That Old Predatory Lending by a Crappy New Name 

Credit Card Companies HATE Her! Stay Out of Credit Card Debt With This One Weird Trick 

Ask the Bitches: Should I Get a Loan Even Though I Can Afford To Pay Cash? 

The Bitches vs. debt:

I Paid off My Student Loans Ahead of Schedule. Here’s How.

I Paid off My Student Loans. Now What?

Hurricane Debt Weakens to Tropical Storm Debt, but Experts Warn It’s Still Debt

The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years

Case Study: Swimming Upstream against Unemployment, Exhaustion, and $2,750 a Month in Unproductive Spending 

That’s all for now! We try to update these masterposts periodically, so check back for more in… a couple… months??? Maybe????

[satoblue]

nerdtoru on the brain…….academic rivals to lovers . . . you both come from wealthy families so there’s high expectations for the both of you to succeed in everything — be it sports or academically. since you both come from such backgrounds, it is no surprise your parents are friends, have been since before either of you were born. due to this, your mother and father are faced with constantly hearing about a certain someone’s achievements.

it was nothing at first, a little comment here and there as you grew older about how satoru won first place at your kindergarten spelling bee. but as those awards piled up and became increasingly bigger on his end, soon did the comparisons of you to the gojo family’s prodigal son — satoru gojo.

you couldn’t help but grow to resent him all your life. he was naturally gifted, passing through assignments and tests with flying colors without breaking a single sweat, all while you had to study day and night, working your brain until you couldn’t see straight just to receive the slightest ounce of recognition from your mother and father.

at times, you think about how you must look from his perspective. for him, it probably felt like a once sided competition, because for him there was nothing to compete against. you weren’t a challenge, you weren’t even another obstacle in his eyes — you were effortless and easy, and he didn’t fail to remind you of that everyday at school or at some stupid soirée your parents forced you to attend.

it was a constant in his life — bickering with you over grades and watching you with a smug grin as you huff and puff, crumpling up your report card and shoving it in your bag because you placed second to him yet again. it was his normal, something he looked forward to. he loved pissing you off simply due to the fact that he was just…better. it would always be like this between the two of you, this back and forth. you’ll always start a fight (that he may or may not have influenced by being a dick), throw a tantrum, yet you’d continue to try and try and try but you’ll never be on the same level.

and if there’s something about satoru, he hates when his routine is uplifted. he hates when you start caring less and less about school. he hates when the girl who’s always had the perfect attendance even when she was sick just to upstage him suddenly stops coming in most of the week. he hates how how you barely glance at your report card anymore — throwing the paper into the trash without a second thought, he hates how you let your grades slip (he snatched it from the bin when no one was looking), how you’re the first to leave the school building instead of staying behind for extra credit or to help the professors clean up just to garner favor with them like you used to…..and all because of some guy.

he never expected this from you of all people. how could you let a bad influence like that into your life? he wasn’t even rich! he wasn’t up to par with the type of world the both of you came from. did your parents even know? they had to, right? they had to know that their daughter was hanging out with some delinquent, getting flustered over the bastard’s teasing and flirty touches.

he’s no longer your first priority, and something about that…really pisses him off. there’s no way he’ll ever lose to some rat-like creature your poor heart couldn’t help picking up off the street. satoru had never been second to anybody. he’s always been at the forefront of your mind, but that’s changing now because of that guy. the thing about satoru, however, is that he doesn’t like to lose — he likes to win. all his life he’s been a winner, so if winning you is what gets you to acknowledge him again — then let the games begin.

[gremlingottoosilly]

König x Ballet dancer!Reader?

You passed through years of training. Being accepted into one of the famous ballet schools of Vienna was nothing to snooze about - and you were on track to become yet another nameless swan in the second row. With a shelve life of just about 10 years, your life was set to be a parade of mediocrity from the start. Without a rich sponsor to give you connections and without any of your professors looking at you twice, you exited college with a stable job in the background. Sometimes, accepting scraps being thrown at the main dancers, you knew your place - you ached for dance and beauty, and you got it. This is why a bouquet of blood-red roses sitting heavily in your hands still feels like a dream. The man in front of you is not a normal opera guest. His suit is tailored - not for the sake of showing off the price, but because this man is simply too huge for anything made in-store, no matter how expensive the store is. His suit is tailored professionally and yet, he still looks uncomfortable. A mountain of a man confined into the prison of tight fabric - you tilts your head to the side, wondering what is he doing here. He is wearing a black mask, which is normal for many patrons - especially the older ones, still afraid to die after what happened just a few years ago. You can only see his eyes and you're getting lost in the cold. It reminds you of a mountain snow. Of the white fabric of your dress - and suddenly, you almost feel like breaking your perfect posture. You don't look into the viewer's seats while you're dancing, but you can't shake the feeling that you recognize this heavy stare from somewhere. He was following your every movement while you were on the stage, not caring for the beauty of the front dancer and the elegant movements of your peers. You're painfully average in everything - but his attention never fails to get on you. He is giving you gruff, cut-out compliments. Something about your legs, your hips. Something dirty about the way you look in that tight tutu, and you almost gather the strength to slap him, but then he flashes his credit card, and it feels like a ticket out of mediocrity. Always the second last in the deep row, you never had any fans looking at you like this. With this amount of longing, of depravity. You start getting better roles after he started to show up. You're not sure why and how - he has money, that's for certain, but he definitely doesn't seem like the type to have connections in the industry. If you had to guess, you would see him as working in the military - but no one from Austrian army would have as much influence, not in your country. If you had to guess, this guy is dangerous, and you're almost terrified to see the dark red flash of flowers every time you exit backstage and see him. But, oh, he presses you against the walls and kisses you. But, oh, he can lift you up so easily and force you to grind on his knee in search for pleasure - you have stamina, all dancers have it, and he knows he can go for much longer than with a regular girl. Your affection is bought with compliments and euro bills stuck in your leotard like you're a cheap whore, but you almost feel like a French girl while he is holding you like this. He asks you about retirement. Tells you he would build you a dance studio in his house - something big, with space and perfect light. Give you all the attention you need. You almost feel yourself getting lost in his awkwardness. Little did you know he wasn't really asking.