#not only is the search function on twitter fully fucked you can’t even look at hashtags anymore while logged out

[knowlesian]

“what if i made this website even worse and way less functional, would people give me money then” was a super hilarious question elon asked himself, for the first time well done buddy no notes

[swordarkeereon]

Tech Review for Writers: reMarkable2

I got myself a piece of interesting tech this year in hopes it would get me from out in front of a computer screen more often. Meet the reMarkable2, a distraction free (i.e. it’s not connected to the entirety of the internet) e-ink tablet workhorse that’s easy on the eyes.

The reMarkable2 Tablet

First things first. The reMarkable2 tablet is not for everyone and your average person probably won’t find it the least bit useful. So let’s talk about why you don’t want this tablet first.

reMarkable 2 is not for you if: 

– You want an eReader.  eReaders have a VERY DIFFERENT function than the reMarkable2. Yes, you can read PDFs on a reMarkable, but it’s more for *marking up* a PDF and commenting in the margins of a PDF. Not just reading. eReaders like Kindles and Nooks often have built in dictionaries, ways to bookmark pages or passages of text, etc…  that the reMarkable2 doesn’t have. You can search your documents for specific phrases and words and also highlight things in a light gray, but if you’re just looking for an eReader, I suggest a Kindle.

– You want a full functioning tablet that you can put apps on and surf the web with- If you’re looking for a full functioning tablet, you’ve missed the whole point of the reMarkable2. The main point behind reMarkable2 is so you can go to your creative place (wherever that may be) and brainstorm, free from ALL distractions. You can’t stop to surf FB or your Twitter feed on a reMarkable2, thus making it more likely you’ll stay on task and get more done.

– You want something with color so you can highlight because what you really want is a fully functioning ebook reader or tablet. This tablet is really more of a no frills brainstorming and note-taking tool for entrepreneurs, professionals, academics, and creatives (including engineers, writers, musicians, possibly artists if they like to sketch in black and white) who use a lot of black pens and plain paper.

I bought the tablet for the following reasons (which I wrote down BEFORE I received the device):

– I wanted an electronic notebook (not a tablet). I’m one of those people who goes through 3 packs of sticky notes every month, and countless notebooks every year. I am constantly jotting stuff down to keep myself focused and on track while running my own business and helping out at the family business.  My notes can be anything from putting together presentations, classes, and meetings, to extensive to-do lists for the day. Sometimes it’s just me keeping track of sales figures. As a result, my desk is always filled with papers and notebooks and I’m constantly searching for shit. The electronic notebook cleans up all this clutter and helps me organize my brain. (Have you seen my brain!? It’s a mess in there.)

– I  like to write freehand, especially when I’m plotting the next book or writing a blurb, or even writing a chapter – and it must be distraction free. This is something only fellow authors will understand. The fact that the reMarkable2 can convert handwritten notes to text sent via email has me excited because, if I’m lucky and it works, I won’t have to go through and transcribe all my handwritten notes. It basically saves me time by eliminating a step. I can copy/paste the note from my email into the appropriate file on my laptop. This will also save me the clutter and weight of carrying countless notebooks.

– I am involved with projects that require me to sketch out ideas for marketing and/or artwork. I do have tablets that can do this, but nothing that does it *well*. The closest is my Surface tablet, which can do a lot of things, but it still doesn’t feel like paper or allow me the fine detail paper allows. I’m hoping this tablet is a bit more responsive in this area. – I am forever printing out rough drafts of manuscripts for markup – wasting a ton of paper and toner in the process. All because I can’t edit on a backlit screen. My eyes get tired and I miss too many errors. If I can transfer my PDF drafts to the reMarkable and mark them up there with minimal errors left over, I could save some $$. I am actually estimating that I could easily save the cost of the reMarkable2 in 6 months to 1 year’s time by not having to purchase the paper, pens, and toner I usually go through in that time frame.  Plus, these marked up manuscripts often end up in a stack on my office floor for 6 months to a year after publication. 

– I am forever having to read PDFs of laws and regulations for the family business, and while I usually use them on the computer, I sit in front of a computer 8-13 hours a day. I need a non-backlit screen for reading in the evenings just to give my eyes a break.  Yes, I imagine I could do the same with a Kindle paperwhite, but I may just want to jot some notes in the same way I’d mark up a paper copy. I’m still a pen and paper girl. I’m really hoping the reMarkable is my replacement for that (most of the time anyway).

reMarkable2 test to sample the pen styles.

Some considerations I took into account before purchasing:

A lot of customers complained that it took too long to receive the reMarkable or to get support. From all of the research I did, and in reading their website, it’s clear to me that this company caters to academia and businesses. I ordered my reMarkable2 on January 16, 2021, and had it in my hands by January 25, 2021. 9 days. I also ordered it and paid for it through my business. I don’t know if that’s actually why I got mine so fast, but I wouldn’t be surprised. That said, I do think the company should work a little harder to increase their customer service efficiency. 

With regard to customer support – the website clearly states it can take up to 10 business days for support to get back to you. And a lot of the things people seem to be complaining about have troubleshooting instructions on the website. Clearly people weren’t going to the website to try to look up their issue through the support FAQs, which likely would have helped them out sooner.  They were just contacting support immediately, and angry when they weren’t getting a response after 3 days, when it’s clearly stated on the website that it can take up to 10 days due to the fact that reMarkable is a small company. But like I said earlier – they would be smart to increase their customer service team.

reMarkable’s folios are a custom fit and really pretty, but a bit pricey. I made the tablet more affordable by skipping the upgrade on the pen, because a friend of mine got the eraser feature and she wasn’t digging it initially (she loves it now), and I purchased a relatively nice folio from Amazon for under $30 (with no magnets – research told me magnets can cause dead spots in the screen of the reMarkable2). You can also just buy a 10″-11″ tablet sleeve and it would work much the same. There are also universal tablet folios that will fit 10″-11″ tablets that are free of magnets and will likely work just fine. All for under $20 bucks — even a few in faux leather. Remember that a case should protect your investment, not just make it *look* sharp. 

Right out of the Box.

Right out of the box I set the reMarkable up and started using it for brainstorming. Here were my first impressions:

1. It really is pretty damn close to writing on paper.

2. You can rest your damn hand on the screen and it won’t fuck things up or make it wobble as with traditional tablets.

3. My handwriting actually looks like my handwriting and you have almost the same control with this as you would with real pen and paper.

4. The interface is simple and intuitive and anyone who uses computers and tablets day and in day out will have no issues figuring this out.

Now some thoughts on the features:

Handwriting to Text: As an author who likes to occasionally spend time writing the old fashioned way, one of the things that attracted me to this tablet was its ability to translate handwriting to text. No writer wants to have to transcribe their written notes and waste all of that time. So of course I tested it with my horrific handwriting, vs purposefully trying to be neat, and the reMarkable2 was able to convert my chicken scratch into actual text that I could read. I was able to turn the handwritten notes into a PDF, but I was also able to send the handwriting converted to typed text as the body of an email, where I was able to cut and paste it into any program I wanted. I took it further and wrote 1000 words (about 8.2 pages) longhand. It converted all the pages to text in one swoop and I was able to copy/paste it into my manuscript. While there was a little formatting and editing involved — it was a lot faster than retyping handwritten notes. WIN! 

Handwriting for conversion test.

Conversion successful

PDF Transfer, Markup, and Signature: Transferring PDFs to the reMarkable is easy. You simply download the app on your phone and your desktop, and you can take any pdf from either device and import it onto your reMarkable, which you can then markup. I sent myself a slew of PDFs that I had to read and markup. It’s amazing how much more focused I am on a screen like this. I really got the same experience with editing on a digital PDF as I did with editing on a paper copy. My only caveat is that I don’t have more space to make notes since the margins are a bit small on the screen and there’s no “back of the page” to carry notes over to. I can likely manage. Despite that – what a great experience. Goodbye manuscripts all over my office floor!  Hello being able to drag editing work with me wherever I go!    

You can also transfer your PDFs that don’t have an electronic signature option to the device, sign them, and send them back. Talk about HANDY since I do that a few times a month by default. This just eliminates the print/sign/scan. Now I just have to transfer it to the device, sign the document, and email it straight back to whoever sent it. 

Digital Planners may be something I look into for 2022 because reMarkable actually makes them feasible. I tried a tester digital planner, courtesy a friend, on my reMarkable and I have to say – it offers just as much satisfaction as a paper planner. Plus, you can SEARCH large pdfs. It won’t find search terms in your handwriting, but it will find it in your PDF. That’s definitely a handy feature when you’re working with 500 page PDFs. That said, the tablet saves your place (last page you visited) as you’re navigating a PDF, so no need to search for the place you left off. However, there is no way to bookmark multiple pages.

ePub Reading: suppose I could sideload books as ePubs, but I really have no use for this feature. If I want to read ebooks, I use my kindle or the Kindle App on my tablet or phone. Unless I start doing editing of ePubs or want to check out an ePub format for something?  I didn’t buy this as an eReader, and it is terribly lacking as an eReader. Where the reMarkable excels is as a tool for marking up documents. So my guess is it would be great for that if you have a lot of files in ePub format that you have to go over. You also can’t change font sizes for easier reading. You can zoom in and zoom back out to regular size. That’s it. (And this is another reason this is not an eReader.)

Storage: Storage is a little over 6GB (you do not pay for the reMarkable website cloud-sync). But even with about 15 PDFs (some of them really long) on my reMarkable at any given time, I was only at .38 GB. 

reMarkable2 Storage

File System: Like I said earlier – the system is highly intuitive and easy to use. I made folders for my most common notebook uses, then I moved the appropriate PDFs to those folders, and created any notebooks I needed for those folders.

Exporting: You can export as .PNG, .SVG, and PDF.  Handwriting to text can only be sent as text via the body of an email. This is actually great for writing because then you just have to copy/paste from your email into your Word Doc, Google Doc, or Scrivener.

Importing: Imports PDFs and ePubs.

Templates: The templates are great. I generally only use graph paper, plain, and lined paper myself. But I could see how a lot of these would be useful to people. The to-do list is a crappy template just because it requires you to hide your menu to use it (you can’t tick the the checkboxes until you do this). To hide the menu tap the circle in the upper left top of the menu bar. So if you want a partial page to-do list, you can easily make your own checkbox lists using the graph paper option. There are also dot pages for the folks into bullet journaling.

A small sampling of reMarkable2 Templates

Search Feature: You can search within a PDF, but not through your own handwritten text. You must be in the PDF to search it, otherwise you can only search for file names. You can not search across documents for a phrase or word. So if you’re looking for something with the same search capabilities as a laptop or possibly a tablet, you won’t find it here.

Zooming: You can zoom in on PDF documents and write on them while zoomed. However, you cannot change font sizes to make reading easier.

Battery Life:  On days where I used it heavily (about 4-5 hours), I was using around 15% power in a day because I didn’t put it in airplane mode. Three days of 4-5 hours a day use drained my battery to 50%. So me, as a heavy user, not in airplane mode, will likely get 6-7 days out of a single charge. Possibly more since clearly not every day will be a heavy use day. The device does go to sleep after 10 minutes of inactivity.

Pen:The pens are a bit pricey. I did not buy the expensive pen with the eraser and I’m okay with that. But $60 for a pen is still a bit — ouch. 

Pen Nib: I am expecting I will be one of those poor unfortunate souls who will be replacing pen tips every 3-4 weeks during heavy use. Luckily the pen itself doesn’t use batteries. The pen nibs seem reasonable in price, just be sure to order a new pack with your device and when you start that pack, order another as shipping times on those can take a week or two depending where you are and how efficient your mail service is. You don’t want to accidently run out and find yourself without a pen. Yikes.

Security: You can add a password to your reMarkable to keep prying eyes out. But if you’re like me and self-employed, that’s not really an issue. Your remarkable has Wi-Fi, yes, but you can put it in airplane mode to cut the connection. Plus, it only syncs to your cloud storage. There really aren’t any entry points for viruses or people hacking into your device. But then I’m also not a tech person. Let’s just say I highly doubt security will be a huge issue on this thing. Besides, anyone who wants to take a peek at my tablet would likely find themselves bored stiff, unless they like reading really rough first drafts of speculative fiction.  LOL

Backup/Download: You can easily transfer your files back to your computer by opening the app and simply exporting your finished documents, etc… to your computer, backup drive or cloud drive. You can also just email yourself a copy to make it super easy.

My Wishlist:

1. I wish I could add or append new, handwritten pages to an existing PDF. That would definitely solve the space issue. Now, I just make notes in a different file and jog back and forth between the PDF and the notes, which is a little annoying, but doable. One way to solve this issue would be to save all your PDFs to double spaced. It might make markup a little easier. I’ll try that with the next books to go under the editorial knife.

2. I wish there were cheaper alternative covers. My $17 cover looks great and protects my tablet. reMarkable could easily come up with a few additional low-cost choices here. The ultra professionals are still going to buy nice leather folios. 

(I may add to this list in the coming weeks, but right now these are the two main things jumping out at me.)

Overall Review Summary

For writers, reMarkable2 truly is a remarkable distraction free device that can help improve your concentration and organization, give you the freedom to write out longhand and convert it to text without the tedious re-typing, and help you mark up drafts with ease. This would probably serve prolific and professional writers more liberally than the writer who takes a few years to pen a book. Plus, it will probably save you a lot of printer paper, toner, pens and notebooks. For business owners/users – reMarkable will likely save you pounds of sticky notes and legal pads, and hours of time transcribing your notes. Plus, it’s a great on-the-go working tool for content creators and people who review a lot of PDFs. 

Have some thoughts on the reMarkable2? Feel free to leave a comment below!

[hrmphfft]

controversial opinion time I guess but

hey gang? hey, gang. gang, hey. blaming your fans for them not reblogging your content enough (and saying that they’re Directly Responsible For Tumblr Dying) is an extremely passive aggressive, mean thing to do, and also completely ignores so many other reasons as to why engagement has changed on this site and posts don't circulate like they used to.

for one thing, whenever I see these posts, I rarely see the ops acknowledge the HUGE HIT to tumblr's userbase following the 2018 policy change/implementation of tumblr's terrible content filtering algorithm. tumblr lost roughly 1/3 of its engagement (https://mashable.com/article/tumblr-lost-a-third-of-its-users-after-porn-ban/) and countless content creators with it. some of them migrated to twitter and other sites, some of them seem to have straight-up vanished into thin air, and countless others lost their biggest or main userbase with barely any time to shift gears to something else. that's a huge, website-shaking change! but so often in these 'reblogs vs. likes' posts I don't see anyone acknowledging that and it makes me really upset!

you can't talk about the ways tumblr has undoubtedly changed these last few years and NOT address the nsfw ban! it's completely unfair to your fanbases to shift the blame of the biggest displacement of users the site has ever experienced on...the users who had no say in the policy change and reacted accordingly when the site started softbanning everyone, and filtering all sorts of tags from the search function (including important sfw ones, lest we forget The Entire Furry Fandom on tumblr discovering that basic-ass tags like #furry and #anthro were being blocked when the ban rolled around), and making uploading anything vaguely beige-colored a dice roll. tumblr still hasn't recovered from that, and unfortunately probably never will, not without some hail mary of policy changes and overhauls.

I've seen some pretty ageist shit regarding content engagement as well that tries to paint younger users as just Not Getting how tumblr functions vs. other social media sites like instagram and twitter, and on top of that just showcasing a really uncomfortable disconnect/animosity towards new users whose only crime is being younger than op and also more experienced with other social media platforms, it also is just. it's really unkind? it's super rude? how can you call your followers too clueless to know how reblogging works and then expect them to support your content via reblogging and not feel like you're insulting them until they give you the result you want?

moreover, lots of young/new tumblr users get the gist of tumblr's controls and get it very quickly! technology literacy is becoming more and more a part of everyday life for everyone, and if you really think that a teenager can't understand that reblogging puts a thing on their follower's dashboards, one of the main functionalities of the site (and also very similar to twitter, one of tumblr's main competitors), I really don't know what to say. sometimes people just straight-up don't want to reblog stuff to their blogs, and that's okay.

there's also a tendency to ignore the ways that blogging on tumblr has changed as its userbase has became more well-versed in its functions and, frankly, a portion of the userbase has grown up on this site. when I first started blogging on here, I was 17, I didn't use tags, I commented unrelated (and frankly sometimes really regrettably rude) replies directly onto artist's posts, and I basically just reblogged whatever I vaguely liked, and a lot of things I didn't totally get but thought Looked Cool/Funny so I reblogged anyways.

and that's fine, that's pretty par for the course of being young on the internet and doing whatever you want and having a good time (barring the rudeness, being respectful to people is the ideal), but as time went on my interests changed, my time spent online changed (I went from highschool to college to a full-time job that limits my time on social media), and I began engaging with tumblr's content differently. I made sideblogs for interests and content themes I didn't want on my main blog, I started liking stuff and then going back through my likes to reblog posts later, and generally speaking my number of posts a day dropped and I stopped being able to catch up on my dashboard every single day. and I'm sure my experience isn't unique for some other people on here.

a lot of the tumblr users I've known for a while just don't have the same level of intensity in fandoms like we did years back, not because of any malice or selfish, content-hogging intent, but because our priorities have changed. I definitely miss a lot of things about years past on tumblr when fandoms were booming and new Big Name Creators were cropping up all the time, and to be fair that's still happening on parts of the site if you know where to look! it's just different now. time has passed. people have changed!

that isn't to be defeatist and say that we can't show up for content we enjoy and reblog it, but instead that people can feel differently about stuff they used to adore, and be more particular about one thing or another they reblog, and straight-up miss stuff that they would have really liked but just didn't catch up on for a myriad of reasons. and that's also okay. engagement on tumblr is really, really tied up in personal preferences, and sometimes it feels like it does that more than most other social media sites. this is kind of the wild west of internet presences and everyone operates differently on here as a result.

and probably the most touchy point of all: no one is obligated to give you validation on the internet. no one. not even if they've read all of your fanfics you've worked really fucking hard on for forever and a day, or your comics that you've spent months, years, a lifetime researching and creating, or your beautifully, painstakingly timed and masked fan videos. they can absolutely consume any of these, and more, and they're still not obligated to reblog your work or promote you. it's not fair, yes, and it's completely understandable and super relatable to want recognition for the work you've done and the ways you've brightened other people's lives, but online most of your fans are still total strangers to you, and trying to control the behavior of total strangers because you’re owed their acknowledgement isn’t a healthy mindset to have.

and you can say that any fan of yours stops being a fan after they drop you for you lashing out at them for not unquestioningly giving you space on their blogs like you're owed, but being upset at being accused of bad behavior for what amounts to not wanting to reblog something this time around and changing your opinions based off of that is also a very understandable thing to do.

and that isn't because of any sort of innate cruelty, or pointed attack towards you. it's just because there is always a disconnect between the creator and the creation, and some people will never bridge that gap and engage with you more, or build a parasocial relationship with you, or seek out ways to support you. and plenty of others will do the exact opposite! it's a total dice roll because you're dealing with a lot more people than you realize scrolling past your content, and every person is different, and some of them don't fully understand how reblogs help a creator, and some of them do but just don't want that content on their feed, and none of them are inherently bad people for that.

I'm not saying creators have to be perfectly kind and civil and praise their fans all the time, but when you engage with your followers like it's a battle where you have to keep devising new ways to get them to share your content, it just comes across as super disingenuous, and people cop to that very fast. 

it also, frankly, can make longtime fans who reblog your work regularly feel like their interest doesn't matter, and wasn't good enough, and that then it really is their fault that other people (other STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET) don't engage with your content the way you wanted them to. you don't owe them perfection, but that doesn't mean it isn't still an unkind thing to do.

so like. what can we do about this?

asking users to reblog your work is totally fine and can help! calls to action work more than nothing at all. it's possible to be respectful when asking people to reblog your work without also guilt-tripping them with "likes < reblogs" banners and passive aggressive tags/comments. generally speaking guilt is a really shitty motivational tool, and tends to breed more resentment than actual outcomes people want. like this post for example! I wouldn't have sat down and typed this all out if I didn't resent the hell out of being told I'm, personally, the reason tumblr is demonstrably not an ideal website for building a fanbase anymore. if I had that much power over this website I would have given the whole thing to the xkit team years ago and reveled in a functional website instead.

changing the way you post content might help! every site has its ideal posting days, times, and reasons for why some are ideal for one site and not another. doing a little research (https://sproutsocial.com/insights/best-times-to-post-on-social-media/) will yield some potentially helpful tips and tricks that might result in a post reaching more people. utilizing tumblr's search function is also important, and understanding the limits of the tag function (ie. only the first 5 tags of a post are used for tag searches) can help change one's habits to something a little more effective. this is why I tend to leave my tag babbling until after the main fandom/category tags on my posts, so that tumblr's jankass search has a better shot, haha

broadening your online presence can definitely help! this is by far the most terrifying option since it involves branching out onto other social media platforms, some of which really don't lend themselves to whatever fandom/content one produces, so like the other two above it's only a suggestion.

I keep coming back to twitter and instagram, but that's mainly because they're the two other powerhouses of social media right now, though admittedly they only really cater towards visual media (and mainly imagery, not longer video pieces), and they have their own weird quirks to learn and jank to deal with. but given how precarious tumblr's status has become in some ways, trying to build a presence on multiple sites means that you reach more people across the internet, and also means that if tumblr does yet another website-shattering policy change, your eggs aren't all in one basket.

of course these options aren't foolproof, and won't work for everyone in some cases or not at all for others, but my main point in all this is this: tumblr has irrevocably changed, its userbase has changed, and we are limited in the ways we can directly influence it, but there are still options. I'm by far not a social media expert, but then again none of the posts I've seen so far were made by social media experts either, so I honestly don't feel too bad for throwing my hat into the ring while we're all thrashing about in confusion

y'all aren't wrong that things have changed, but I'm begging you to have some compassion and to try not to turn the relationship between creators and consumers of content into a battleground, especially when a lot of the influences on these changes are things entirely outside of any of our's direct control.

also because it makes y'all sound exactly like this:

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers III (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: Sometimes I wonder like, maybe you guys don’t care about the plot and just wanna see some dorks fall in love? but I have to warn you, I’m planning on making this pretty much a slow burn, probably something I should’ve said since chapter one lmao anyway, please leave some feedback after you’re done reading! we appreciate it lots :)

Words: 1,900

Warnings: Swearing, hands going down ghoulie’s throats, descriptions of violent deaths and blood. 

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

I had spent the majority of that hour just walking in circles trying to find a solution to our current problem when Angelica came back telling us about the security Eli had put on the place. Not gonna lie, I was impressed. Suddenly, another of those horrible screams echoed to remind us that we’re not alone. And after Angelica mentioned how we could always kill whatever it was the source of the noise, Josh was very reluctant about it.

“We’re not killing anyone. This was the last place where Sam was seen. She’s the only kid I knew who loved the mall.”

“You didn’t know a lot of kids then,” I snort.

Josh stares at me in annoyance but continues his speech anyway.

“What if she’s this Witch?”

“You think she turned into a ghoulie?” Angelica scrunches up her nose.

“You said it yourself, we have no idea what’s going on. If there’s even a chance, I have to help Sam”

“Eye roll, you only like Sam ‘cause she may have touched your dick.”

I snort again, totally amused. Josh’s frown only grows deeper and I raise my hands in defeat.

“My bad. Gonna go and... I don’t know, get snacks or something.”

While I’m walking away I still manage to hear a few sentences of what Josh is saying.

“This is not about getting some handy from some rando. This is love.”

“Is he listening to himself?” I shake my head, “this guy’s crazy...”

Don’t misunderstand. I do believe in love. The thing that I don’t believe is Josh’s speech of true love and loyalty. How can I, when I know that he met Sam for only a few months before the nuke? Do I think it’s impossible to fall in love in such a short notice? Nah, I think it’s totally believable. The thing is... okay, don’t judge. But the thing is that we’re teenagers, right? I mean, hormones are wild right now, you can be crazy in love with someone and still look at Chris Hemsworth and wish he would crush your head with his thighs or... whatever it is that you dream, I definitely don’t think about that. I’m more of a Chris Evans lover.

So yeah, I’m sorry if I don’t fully think that Josh, a seventeen-year-old boy, would have zero attraction to anyone who doesn’t have Sam Dean’s face. We’re all human, for fuck’s sake. I dated a guy while still completely whipped for Alex. And Alex dated several people too. And he had a talent for that, believe me.

Listen to this: don’t fall in love at all. If you wanna feel loved, get tons of friends: mutuals on twitter, tumblr or fucking facebook for that matter. They’ll always tell you pretty things. Or hug your parents. Your siblings. Literally, do anything but fall in love. I know it sounds like this beautiful thing from heaven but love is far from being the solution. 

Crap. I’m sounding like a bitter asshole, aren’t I? I’m sorry. The apocalypse it’s taking a toll on me. Maybe I should take some time away from Glendale, go to a far land and never come back, maybe I should- HOLY FUCK THE WITCH IS HERE

I stand there, terrified of moving in a way that might warn her of my presence. I gather enough courage to walk away, little by little without turning my back to her so I can make sure she hasn’t noticed me. Unfortunately, it also means I can’t see Josh behind me, holding his skate like a shield with one hand, and a long stick with a chord at the end with the other. 

“Don’t freak,” He whispers, and I react the only way anyone would react if a voice talks to their ear when they’re alert: I scream.

The woman stands up and I quickly stand behind Josh’s body. Hey, he’s the one holding the shield! I have nothing. Luckily though, she doesn’t attack us and instead, she walks further into the store.

“Sam!” Josh calls her out.

“You don’t know if that’s Sam!” I hiss.

Josh doesn’t listen to me and keeps going, so I keep going as well. We lose her after a few seconds and turn around just to see her standing right in front of our faces.

“Fuck!” I jump so high that in a different context I’d have been embarrassed. But right now I’m just praying to any god ‘please, let me make it to next month’.

“Sam?” asks Josh, and I wanna reply with ‘Stop calling her Sam, can’t you see she’s got curly dark hair, you blind shit?!’

But someone else starts singing behind the witch and when she turns around I can see Angelica standing there and I’m both, thankful and pissed that even a twelve-year-old girl has a way to defend herself and I only got my skates. She cuts her hand and the witch immediately rushes over to attack, leaving us safe. Of course, now it was our turn to chase down the two so Angelica wouldn’t get eaten.

“Angelica!” Josh stops in front of a store and I hear him mumble, “dummy...”

I get there a moment after and I see the woman leaning over a small body. I gasp, covering my eyes and asking with a thin voice, “Is it bad? How much blood is there?”

“Dummy” I hear him say again, this time in a more flat voice.

“Hey, dummies!” And that’s definitely Angelica, and she’s definitely not where I thought she was, so I uncover my eyes and I get to see when she pulls down the metal curtain, trapping the witch inside the shop, “so, is that thing your girly-friend?” 

He steps closer, “Sam? it’s me. It’s Josh.”

I’m about to reply that there is no way in hell that’s Sam when she talks back.

“Josh,” Her voice is weak and dry, “Josh Wheeler?”

Josh softly laughs beside me, nodding at the girl, “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Josh Wheeler?” She stands up and walks towards the curtain, removing the hair from her face and smiles wildly at the boy. Yup, that’s definitely not Sam, “Present.”

“That’s not Sam! That’s not fucking Sam at all!”

Yeah I know, I called it.

The woman repeats his words and smashes the doll’s head against the curtain.

“Wait,” I raise my voice, suddenly recognizing her, “isn’t it...”

“Ms. Crumble?” Josh and I ask in unison.

Yes, she was. Holy shit. Angelica goes off about how this is an amazing discovery ‘cause Crumble is capable of saying more than two words. Then Crumble goes off on how much she hates the new world and decides to walk straight into one of the mannequins. After a while of watching Angelica make goggling eyes at our former teacher, Josh and I decide to move on.

“Look I gotta go.”

“Yeah, me too,” I say, crossing my arms, “I’m not wasting more of my time with any of you”

Angelica tries hard to convince us, but her speech does the opposite effect on me. She says that there’s a mind with functional thoughts in every ghoulie. That our parents aren’t totally gone, and I refuse to believe she’s right.

“Ghoulies aren’t good. And they certainly aren’t people, Angelica. Not anymore.”

I’m one to know, I learned that the hard way with pretty much my whole family. I went to my house after the nuke exploded and boom! My parents were suddenly trying to eat my face. I had to lock them in their room before going over to Grandma’s. And grandma had turned out to be fucking vicious as hell, even for a ghoulie. So I set her on fire along with my uncle, aunt, and her entire house. 

Anyway, I left Glendale to reunite with my sister Katie, more prepared than the last two tries. Part of me prayed for all the precautions to be unnecessary at the end, cause I was tired, and all I wanted was a goddamned break. I just wanted to see my sister. When I had to smash her head with that chair, it felt like I was the one agonizing. 

But I convinced myself it wasn’t Katie anymore. That thing was a monster and I had to get rid of it so my sister could rest. You can understand why then, hearing Angelica say those things kinda made me want to run away and never look back at any of their faces. 

“This isn’t gonna bring your parents back,” replies Josh, “I need to go and find Sam. Soon as I figure out how to get past Eli’s locked and booby-trapped doors.”

“I can get you out,” Says Ms. Crumble, “I have a key.”

She frantically searches through her stuff while talking to some dusty doll heads and I know, I know this has to be a bad dream. I’m not actually here, I probably fell asleep on the couch after eating too much. Crumble says she put the keys on a clapper and she (of course) starts clapping, dropping the doll heads on the process.

“I remember now. I ate the keys” Crumbles laments, “I needed the iron. Hold on.”

“I was wrong,” I whisper, “every time she opens her mouth I feel like I’m having a stroke”

Josh quietly chuckles beside me, and we share a look of complicity. Glad to see I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a clue of what is happening right now.

Crumble sits on the chair closest to her and in a matter of seconds opens her mouth impossibly wider than any mouth should be allowed to. Then she puts her hand inside.

“Shit, shit, shit...” I cling to Josh’s arm and hold it tight with both hands, “I’m in hell. This is the worst thing I have ever...”

“This is the best thing I have ever seen,” Angelica cuts my comment, “and I once saw a robot kill a monkey in a knife fight in Thailand.”

“I’m never sleeping again,” I can practically feel my soul leaving my body and fleeting to another continent. Crumble pulls out her hand and... it’s another fucking head. How many dolls has she beheaded?

Crumble lets us know that she can’t reach the keys and Angelica offers to help. She says no, then asks Josh to do it instead.

“Are you gonna eat my arm?” His voice is fearful, I can tell he really doesn’t wanna do it.

“I don’t know,” she says, laughing right after saying it.

“Josh?” Inquires Angelica.

I grab him by the shoulders so now he’s looking at me.

“No,” I say, “that’s crazy Josh, you can’t put your arm inside a Ghoulie’s throat!”

“Just a sec,” He looks at me with wide eyes, but takes a deep breath and shakes his head, not really answering to me, “okay.”

“Josh!” I insist, “please, we can find another way to get out, just don’t do it!”

“I have to,” Even if he doesn’t say it, I can complete the phrase with what I know for sure is going through his mind: For Sam.

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[honeymoonjin]

enjoy your stay - chapter seven

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

A/N - Just for now, I’m trialing not putting in chapter links on this post to see if it helps more people see it since the tumblr search function cuts out posts with links. If there’s not a big difference, I’ll put them in later, but to see the first chapter if you’re a new reader, please click on my blog and check out my masterlist.

Warnings for sexual content in this chapter: public sex, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, mild degradation, dom!Jimin but also slight sub!Jimin (you’ll see).

ENJOY YOUR STAY ↳Boss!Namjoon, Chef!Jin, Receptionist!Hoseok, Bellboy!Jimin, Bartender!Jungkook, Accountant!Yoongi, Photography student!Taehyung ↳Some inappropriate language and cursing. Later chapters have sexual content.

SUMMARY ↳Working the graveyard shift at a hotel isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but your coworkers are certainly happy to have you here.

CHAPTER SEVEN ↳You have a new roommate in your apartment, and you just hope he doesn’t burn the place down while you’re out on your road trip with Jimin.

It only took the energizer bunny a couple hours to move his stuff into the spare room and have some of the lunch (or what was your equivalent of a midnight snack) you made for him before he was acting like he owned the place.

You stood beside the couch, staring in complete bewilderment as he furiously smashed keys on his computer, headphones blasting echoes of gunfire around the small apartment and feet resting on the edge of the coffee table.

He had yet to take notice of you standing there, too hyper-focused on the flashing graphics on his screen. You suddenly felt the urge to call up his parents and ask them how the fuck they did it.

It was time for the two of you to leave for work, and while he was in his uniform, a slick black shirt and pants and his apron wadded up by his freshly shined shoes, but while you were ready to walk out the door, he was immersed in a shootout on your living room couch.

Was it your responsibility to get his attention? Did his parents tap him on the shoulder and send him on his way? You sighed and bent down to wave a single hand in front of his face.

He blinked wildly, and even had the gall to dry and dodge your hand and keep playing for a few seconds before he really paid any attention to what was going on.

He let out a little gasp and paused the game, tossing his laptop on the couch and bounding over to the door. “I have so much more time for activities, noona! This was the best idea ever!”

You flicked him your most convincing smile and took him outside to get in the car. You were beginning to think maybe it wasn’t the best idea ever.

After the two of you arrived back home after an exhausting night, squinting at the rising sun and trying not to scuff your shoes by dragging your feet, you sat him down at the kitchen island and told him some ground rules.

You were leaving in an hour or so to go to Jimin’s house, where he would take you to his competition and back again for the day, and you wanted to make sure Jungkook didn’t burn the apartment down in your wake.

“Okay, no oven while you’re gone, gotcha. Can I use the barbeque?”

You frowned. “I don’t have a barbeque.”

“Yeah, right there.” He gestured, and you followed his gaze.

Your mouth fell open. “You mean the stove?”

“Whatever you want to call it, yeah.”

“N-” You had to stop and take a calming breath before you could continue. “Do not use the stove, Jungkook. You have microwave rights in this house, okay? Anything more advanced than the microwave, don’t touch it.”

“Ah, this is gonna be so sick. Mom and dad never let me stay at home by myself for more than a couple days.” He rocked the stool back and forth and glanced around the apartment. It was basically just two bedrooms, a bathroom, and one big space where the lounge, kitchen and laundry all resided. That didn’t seem to faze him, and you felt like it was probably for the best that he had limited space to roam while you were gone.

“I’m not going to be gone a few days, I’ll be back early next morning.” Namjoon had allowed both you and Jimin a night off for the occasion on the condition that if Jimin won, he had to thank his amazing boss in his speech. Potentially Namjoon didn’t realize it wasn’t the Grammys or the Oscars, and the winners didn’t hold a trophy and give speeches, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, or so Jimin claimed.

The two of you would camp out at a hotel in the town over, one Namjoon personally recommended, and head back early the next morning so that you could sneak a nap before work on the Sunday night.

Surely if the doe-eyed kid in front of you could be trusted with an entire shelf of alcohol, he could be trusted to keep your apartment undamaged for twenty-four hours. God, you really hoped so.

Jimin’s house was pretty close to the apartment block, and when you pulled into his driveway he was already sitting on his porch, two massive suitcases propping him up.

The shock that came with seeing him for the first time in casual clothes almost made you crash right into his house when your foot came down on the accelerator instead of the brake, but once you safely parked, and he rolled his luggage over to you, you took the time to fully appreciate it.

He was just wearing a relatively loose white tee and a pair of high waisted jeans rolled up at the ankles, but he looked so good it was almost a crime to stick him in all-black while on duty. The whole bellboy schtick was cool, but the dark colors really took out all the definition. His shirt was thin enough that you could just about see through it when the sun shone right, and you busied yourself with the aircon buttons to avoid drooling.

He seemed a million times more comfortable in regular clothes, and when he hopped into the passenger seat, he gave you a blinding grin. You did your best to return it, but you were more than a little distracted by the way he rested the ankle of one leg over the knee of his other, pulling his jeans taught across his thighs, and the way his hands, now covered with several silver rings of various sizes, squeezed at the muscle absentmindedly.

Or maybe not so absentmindedly. His smile turned mischievous and his eyes glittered.

With a start, you realized he had asked you a question. “Yes, absolutely,” you stammered.

His tongue shot out to wet his bottom lip. “I asked you how you were. But if you’re that eager to get on the road, let’s go.”

You laughed nervously and backed out of the driveway.

“So, what’s your dance like for the competition?” you asked a few minutes later. “Do you make up all the dance moves yourself?”

You had furiously kept your eyes on the road this whole time, but even now you could feel his intense gaze on you. “It’s called choreography, and yes. I’ve been practicing for a few weeks to get it perfect.”

“Do you have a costume?”

“Why, would you like to see me in a leotard?” You spluttered a little, but he chuckled heartily before continuing. “Man, you really know nothing about dance, do you?”

“I haven’t actually seen a proper dance in real life before. Just never got the chance to, I guess.”

“So, I’ll be your first, then?” His tone was deliberately provocative, and the warm palm that came down to rest on your knee certainly didn’t help you concentrate on the road either.

You coughed a little and laughed nervously. “You can turn on the radio, if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh- Okay.” He waited for you to continue your poor attempts at small talk, but you didn’t know what to say anymore. His hand fell away from your leg.

It took almost half an hour of strained silence before you spoke up again. “Look, I’m really sorry if I’m making things awkward. I don’t want to ruin your day.” “Don’t apologize. My day is getting better every minute I spend with you.”

“Well,” you quipped, “maybe I should start charging.”

“I’d pay.”

“I don’t think you could afford me, Jimin. I’m not as cheap as Hoseok.”

He let out a laugh, the both of you relieved that he weird tension in the vehicle had evaporated. “There must be some other way I can repay you,” Jimin simpered in a high-pitched tone.

You snorted. “You can’t offer sexual favors as payment for sexual favors, you idiot. That’s a pretty poor business model.”

“I disagree. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. It’s a very common practice.”

“It’s only worth my time if you give me something that I couldn’t give myself. You’d have to show me something new, otherwise what’s the point?” You risked a glance over to the passenger seat and caught Jimin staring right at you, with a dark look in his eyes.

“There are many things I’d love to show you, baby,” he vowed in a sultry tone.

You were hoping he didn’t see the way your hips shifted, and thighs clenched, but his quiet chuckle told you he probably had.

When you arrived, Jimin directed you straight to the venue where the competitions were being held.

The whole affair was rather dull, at least for you, as he waited in line forever to get forms to fill out, went back in line to hand in the form and get a numbered sticker to slap on his shirt, practiced for a couple hours while you scrolled aimlessly through Twitter, sat through about twenty other dancers before he even went on, and by the time he did it was the sheer power of your horniness that kept your eyes open and focused on him.

There was something magical and extra-seductive about seeing him dance in person. His videos were good, but the flat angle couldn’t really compare to the rolls and turns playing out in three glorious dimensions. It was pure luck that had you swallowing your last gulp of water before he dropped onto his back and thrusted up into the air twice in time to the music. You were certain that if there was anything in your mouth other than your own tongue, you would’ve choked on it at the sight.

Jimin placed third, which, while still an impressive achievement, your vagina found incredibly ridiculous. You drove him, gleaming with sweat and grinning his head off, to the hotel, but he insisted on going in to reception himself.

You acquiesced and waited in the parking lot until he returned.

“So crazy,” he proclaimed, “there’s only one room left, and it’s only got one bed!”

You take a couple seconds to make a show of silently looking around the deserted carpark.

He smacks his lips and laughs a little. “Anyway, let’s go on in.”

The hotel room is nice, but it’s beyond cramped, and you wince as you see the single bed pushed up against the wall. “I’m not doing this,” you say to him as he unloads his suitcases.

“Doing what?”

“I’m not going to do the whole ‘oh, what a shame, we’re stuck in the same bed, let’s have sex’ cliché. It’s unsexy and overused. Work harder, Park Jimin.”

He pauses for a moment, hovering by the foot of the bed. “The lady doesn’t like clichés.”

“No,” you reply flatly.

He sighs but continues setting up the room. Once he’s done, he wipes his palms on his jeans and turns to you with a fresh smile. “Want to go for a dip in the pool?”

You glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Almost eight in the evening. “Can we get something to eat first?”

He shrugs. “The restaurant is buffet-style.”

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

As you had insisted, the two of you didn’t do the hotel room sex cliché that night. You top-and-tailed, one pillow each, and tried to avoid kicking each other in the face.

Both of you were early risers since you hadn’t actually slept during the night in a long time. Jimin took an early morning swim; you, who hadn’t thought to bring a swimsuit, lounged on the warm concrete, swirling your toes across the surface. As much as Jimin insisted pool-sex was definitely sexy and definitely not a cliché, you didn’t fuck then, either, and while keeping your dignity was morally admirable, your metaphorical blue balls made you irritable on the drive home.

Jimin can feel the tension but does nothing to stop it. In fact, you can tell that him offering to drive is just so that you can stare at him more. He fiddles with the rings on his fingers, stretches his neck so you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and clenches the steering wheel so that his biceps flex.

He knows exactly what to do to ramp up your sexual frustration, and he laughs every time you wriggle around in your seat, helpless to do anything about it. Now that you’ve left the privacy of a hotel room, you’ll just have to sit and wait.

You gaze forlornly out the window in a last-ditch attempt to not get too riled up, but a sign that flashes past causes you to gasp.

Jimin glances at you, eyebrows raised. “What is it?”

“Gas station 1km away. Can we pull over?”

“Do you need to pee?”

“Don’t start playing coy now, Park Jimin. I need to fuck you or I’m going to go insane.”

He chokes, murmuring a low ‘fuck, finally’ under his breath before pulling into the gas station as it approaches.

The station itself, much to your dismay, is packed with cars filling up before they head to work for the morning. Instead of parking up front, however, Jimin pulls around behind the building to where the crusty old bathroom is.

It’s pretty out of view, and clearly not in high demand, but you whine at the thought of sharing bodily fluids while in that scummy concrete block.

Jimin hears you and tuts. “Should’ve let me fuck you in the hotel room. Or in the pool.”

The moment the car is in park you jump out and follow him into the bathroom, too aroused to care about anyone seeing you go in together.

The door locks behind the two of you and you whine again. The floors are filthy, and the sink has a concerning green sludge running down the side. “Good luck showing me something new in this hellhole.” You grab the ends of your shirt and lift it over your head.

He grins but doesn’t hesitate before skipping straight to unbuttoning his jeans and tugging the zip down. “It leaves me room for improvement for next time,” he reasons, “now take your pants off.”

You’re too startled at his urgency to protest, and once you get the ends past your sneakers, your jeans are crumpled up on the floor beside your shirt before you know it.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Panties.”

You huff a little, sad that he didn’t once comment on the racy black number before telling you to take it off. A little slower, you slip off your panties and take a little extra care to make sure they don’t touch the slightly damp floor and rest on top of your other clothes instead. While you’re at it, you unclip your bra and do the same.

You stand before him in nothing but your shoes, and Jimin, still fully dressed, looks you over, running his gaze over every inch of skin.

You impatiently strut up to him and push at his chest until he allows you to walk him back against the wall.

His eyes haven’t left your body, but when his back hits the concrete he sighs out contentedly. A hand snakes around you, resting on your lower back and pulling you flush against him. The cold metal sends shivers up your spine and your fingers curl up around handfuls of his shirt.

His other hand reaches down to latch on firmly to your ass, and he cranes down to nuzzle into your neck, causing another wave of violent shudders to wrack your body.

While it’s a relatively sunny day, this bathroom block is in shadow behind the main station, and it’s too cold to be naked and not doing anything. You wriggle in his grasp, brushing your chest against the fabric between you until your nipples harden into peaks, more and more sensitive as they stiffen.

“God,” he whispers into your neck, so close that his lips brush against your skin, “I can’t fucking believe you didn’t let me do this in the hotel room.”

You laugh, but it’s more breath than sound, and the only heat that remains is the one blazing between your thighs. “Stop making excuses and just fuck me already. I’m starting to get a little concerned that the whole slutty bellboy thing is overcompensat-”

He doesn’t let you finish your thought, using the hand on your ass to lift you up onto him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, but you don’t have time to process anything before he’s rolling his crotch up into yours in one smooth motion, the coarse fabric of his jeans catching on your swollen clit. “Ah!” Before you can think of muffling the sound, you’re crying out and jerking your hips inwards.

The arm behind your back is the only thing holding you up, and his other hand is clutching firmly onto your ass, so Jimin tips his head down, staring at his crotch before glancing back up with you, pupils blown with lust. “Care to do the honors, baby?”

You acquiesce, reaching down between you two to dip a hand underneath his jeans, bypassing his underwear completely and lifting his heavy cock out of his pants. It’s pretty average in terms of length, but the girth more than makes up for it. Fuck, you want it inside you.

“You know,” you state conversationally, although your voice can’t be much louder than a whisper, “the baby nickname is getting a little old.” You rub the palm of your hand roughly down the underside of his dick, batting your eyes innocently as he curses and chases your touch with his hips. “Maybe you could call me something a little hotter.”

He hums in satisfaction when you spit into your hand and begin to steadily pump him, mouth hanging slightly open in a sinful pout. His lips quirk up into a lazy smile. “Yeah? Would you like it if I called you a slut? A dirty whore that will fuck any of her coworkers if they ask nice enough? I’m sure a chef has talented hands, but you can’t beat a dancer’s hips.”

He lifts you up a little more and begins rutting the side of his cock against your slick lips, but your head tilts back and eyes fall shut at the thought of Jin using his gifted fingers to get you off. He probably had an amazing palate, too. You wonder if he’d like the taste of your-

“Fuck, you are a little slut, thinking about someone else when I’m right fucking here.”

You sigh dreamily and tip your head back down to him, trying to school your expression into something that resembled disappointment. “If I were you, I’d take that as a sign that I wasn’t doing a very good job.”

His eyes darken and the arm around your back slides down to your ass to join the other. You wobble, almost falling backwards before you link your hands around the back of his neck and stare at him in disbelief. You feel him shifting his stance a little below you before his mouth stretches wide in a devious grin. “I’m going to make you wish you never said that.”

Your eyes widen and you throw your head into his neck for more stability a second before he lifts your hips clean off of him, takes a moment to line up, and drops you down onto his cock without mercy.

It doesn’t go deep enough to hit your cervix, but the delicious stretch rips a guttural moan from the back of your throat, and you arch your back, to feel him move inside you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asks in a gravelly tone. “You like my cock buried inside your tight cunt?” The image of Jimin in his bellboy uniform, teasing you and flirting playfully feels like a world away from this Jimin, balls deep inside you, whispering the filthiest things inside your ear. “I’m feeling extra generous today, so you’re going to be a good little girl for me and take everything I have to give you, won’t you?”

You hum contentedly, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing up against your g-spot when you tilt your hips just right. Jimin growls, and that’s your only warning before he pulls a hand around to your front and flicks your clit painfully. You cry out, foot shooting out and banging against the wall as you’re hit with the sudden burst of sensation.

“Won’t you?” he asks again in a low tone, giving the raw bud a serious of lighter flicks, enjoying watching your muscles dance at each one.

You whine desperately. “God, yes, I will! Just fuck me, please Jimin!”

He slowly pulls himself out, until only the head remains tucked inside, enjoying the feeling of you clenching desperately around him then snaps his hips, plunging into you yet again and setting a brutal pace. Your fingers curl even tighter into his shirt, knuckles going white, and the grip your legs have around his waist loosen as he drills into you.

Each thrust up into you hits a different place inside you, and you moan in rhythm with his relentless pace, breaking off into a whimper whenever he drags against your g-spot.

As he moves, you feel yourself clenching down on him every time he pulls out, and soon enough he’s panting. “Fuck, baby girl, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“That’s, ah fuck, that’s not my problem,” you chime, feeling the momentum of pleasure building in your abdomen. Leaning so you’re fully stable against his chest, you reach down a hand and begin massaging your clit desperately, trying to propel yourself over the edge.

He replies in staccato, spitting out a word or two with every thrust. “You’re such a little brat,” he says, bending his knees a little so that he can hold you steady and just fuck up into you.

The increase in tempo, paired with an angle that rubs against your top wall deliciously, is too much for you, and your legs shake wildly as you move the fingers on your clit at a frenzied pace and fall apart in his arms, coming with a long, drawn-out cry.

He rides it out with you, but once you stop shuddering and your vision clears, he pulls out and lets you back down onto the floor gently.

Even after the satisfaction of an orgasm, you still feel a thrumming in your pussy that isn’t helped by the emptiness left behind, but Jimin’s much more desperate than you, running a shaky hand through his hair, head tipped back onto the wall, the other hand jacking off as fast as he can manage.

The sound of your slick as he moves is increased tenfold now that it’s not being muffled by your pussy, and you fix your shirt on the floor in front of him and fall to your knees.

He opens his eyes blearily when you push his hand away but breathes out a high-pitched whine when you take him in your mouth.

You often found guys to taste so much better when they were covered in your arousal, and it meant there was no risk of him cumming inside you, so you were happy to hollow out your cheeks and suck Jimin off, playing gently with his balls as you did just to hear him whine again.

Gone was the alpha male who took what he wanted. The Park Jimin gazing down at you with an open mouth was completely different; soft and needy, and letting out the most beautiful noises.

One of his hands fell to your hair, but instead of holding on so that he could control the blowjob, he brushed your hair away from your face so he could see you better and rested it on your cheek.

The intimate move triggered a warmth in you of a different kind that before, but you put all your focus into chasing his orgasm, using the flat of your tongue to provide some texture. It only took a few moments before the pace of his whimpers sped up. “Ah, ah, please, oh, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Hot bursts flooded your mouth and ran down your throat. You swallowed around him one last time before pulling off and looking up at him.

He panted for a few seconds, thumb stroking your cheekbone, before he gave you a lazy smile. “It’s fifteen cents off a liter out there, I don’t suppose you need petrol?”

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