#so there's that in the midlife crisis bucket as well

[a-yarn-of-purple-prose]

The executives are not functioning today so I guess I'll just go play videogames instead of doing my Draw A Cartoon homework

Yes, midlife crisis is going fantastic.

[webotorial-blog]

The Ultimate Guide to Classic Car Maintenance: Tips from “Alwaysdry Lucknow” Restoration Experts

Listen up, gearheads and vintage vehicle enthusiasts! It’s time to get your hands dirty (or not, as you’ll soon see) with the ultimate guide to classic car maintenance. Our experts at “Alwaysdry Lucknow” are here to share their wisdom, sprinkled with a healthy dose of humor. After all, if you can’t laugh while elbow-deep in engine grease, what’s the point?

1. Washing Your Classic Beauty: More Than Just a Sponge Bath

Remember, your classic car is like a diva — it demands special treatment. Our car wash service isn’t just about getting wet and soapy (save that for your rubber ducky collection). It’s an art form!

Pro Tip: If you’re washing your car at home and the neighbors start placing bets on whether you’re actually cleaning or just performing an interpretive dance with a hose, you’re doing it right.

2. Paint Correction: Because “Character” is Just a Fancy Word for “Scratches”

Sure, your car has “character,” but let’s face it — sometimes character looks a lot like that time you tried to parallel park next to a shopping cart corral. Our paint correction service will make your ride smoother than your pick-up lines at a classic car show.

Fun Fact: The term “paint correction” was coined by a car detailer who was tired of saying, “Oops, let me fix that” every five minutes.

3. Ceramic Coating: The Fountain of Youth for Your Car’s Exterior

Want your classic car to look younger than your midlife crisis? Enter ceramic coating. This miracle worker is like Botox for your car, minus the frozen expressions and celebrity endorsements.

Joke Time: Why did the classic car get a ceramic coating? Because it was tired of being called a “rust bucket” by the snooty Tesla down the street!

4. PPF (Paint Protection Film): The Invisible Shield of Invincibility

Remember how Superman was invincible? Well, with our PPF service, your car can be too! Except for Kryptonite. And harsh weather. And that raccoon that keeps eyeing your garage suspiciously.

Warning: PPF may cause your car to develop a superiority complex. Side effects include smug looks at other cars and an inexplicable desire to park in the fanciest spots.

5. Headlight Restoration: Because Driving Blind Isn’t as Fun as It Sounds

Foggy headlights are like cataracts for your car. Our headlight restoration service will have your classic beauty seeing clearer than a fortune teller with 20/20 vision.

Did You Know? : Driving with foggy headlights is like trying to navigate through life using only your smartphone’s flashlight — possible, but not recommended and likely to end in disaster.

6. Car Detailing: Where OCD Meets Automotive Love

Our car detailing service is so thorough, we’ll clean places you didn’t even know your car had. We once found Jimmy Hoffa’s sunglasses in a 1975 Cadillac’s glove compartment!

Overheard at Alwaysdry Lucknow: “I don’t always detail cars, but when I do, I prefer to use tweezers and a magnifying glass.”

Remember, maintaining a classic car is like maintaining a long-term relationship — it requires patience, dedication, and a willingness to laugh at the absurdity of it all. So next time your prized possession needs some TLC, bring it to Alwaysdry Lucknow. We promise to treat it with more care than we treat our own relationships!

Disclaimer: No classic cars were harmed in the making of this blog post. The same cannot be said for our egos when we realize how much cooler these cars are than us.

#contentwriting #manthankushwaha #alwaysdrylucknow #carrestoration #carrepair #ceramiccoating #carwash #carwashathome

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

The Birthday Post!

My birthday is September 29th, and I'm turning 40. Midlife Crisis Time! Yeah!

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Quick Links and Info:

Ko-Fi

PayPal is NovasPrime.

Cashapp is NovasPrime.

Chimetag is NovasPrime.

Birthday Wishlist.

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Now for the

Midlife Crisis

stuff!

A lot of this part is just.... Me walking y'all and myself through the things that will be happening over the next six months or so.

Raven and I have some big major upheaval and changes coming. We'll be moving (bumming around camping for a month or so before moving into a place - that's the Midlife crisis), and possibly trying to go to Mexico to get dental work done (probably another month, with healing time - luckily Adrienne's older brother runs some hostels there so I may be able to crash for cheap). What we MOSTLY need is money, but that's, I think, a statement about society as a whole, not us individually.

(We're both working on that - I'm working on getting Raven reassesed by the VA, because their back and neck are getting worse and they were blown up a few times in Iraq, so... They should be at 100% disabled, not 80%. Thank God, disability is different with the VA than it is SSDI, so Raven can still earn money and we could even get married if we wanted lol. I'm doing gig work and trying to pick up some temp work to save up. Saving isn't the easiest thing for us but we're trying.)

We'll need to get our passport cards, $65 each plus photos. I'm fairly certain I can take the photos myself with either my phone or the bridge phone the library has. But I'd like to get them laser-printed, so that'll be probably... Hm. $10ish. And we need to order the cards ASAP.

We'll need gas and food. We have most of the camping things we need but I have a stuff I don't own that I need to get. I'm always on the hunt for deals from Big 5 and Harbor Freight, but I need like... A propane camping stove, a bucket toilet seat, etc. Raven gets cheap to free camping a lot of places because of their veteran status, and camping on a lot of BLM land is free too. So rent won't be as much of an issue. But toiletries, food, and sundries? Well.

I have to find a friend to watch the cats for this time period. If it was just one cat, not prone to scratching, it would be one thing, but we have Kono - who scratches like no one's business and absolutely should never be in a tent - and Socrates+Emily, who are bonded and can't really be separated for long periods of time. If I can't find a friend for that long, I'll need to board them all.

We also need to buy storage totes for our belongings. We can afford a storage unit, but I'd love to spring for a climate-controlled one so I don't have to ask a friend to hang on to my makeup. Storage totes are cheapish at Costco! Oh shit, we do need to get our own Costco membership, as we're currently on our housemate's membership.

We also both have $400ish in credit card debt that we really need to pay off. The credit cards should be for emergencies during that time period and should have a minimal balance otherwise.

I need to get the car up to snuff. There's a chip in the windshield and I hope I can fix it, but if not I may need to get it replaced. 😭 I need to replace the ABS sensors - I have the things, I just need to put 'em in. Oil change, fuel filter and air filter, new actuators. Up to $400, but probably closer to $100.

Then, of course, we need to actually move! That'll be like... Fucking $4,000 minimum because rent is ridiculous around here. If we're lucky, most of Raven's back pay with the reassessment should pay for that.

Come January or February, possibly March, I'll be enrolling in cosmetology school! FAFSA grants will pay for my supplies, but tuition is expensive because the place I've chosen, the Paul Mitchell School of Cosmetology, is the most Inclusive school in the area, they teach non-white hair care requirements and techniques, and they're the most comprehensive. My goal is to use my cosmetology credentials to get aesthetician-trained for depilatory services of some sort, and also get trained in barbering. Then I can work part-time as a stylist, and do sliding-scale gender-affirming things, as well as for low-income and unhoused people. I've already set it up, I just need to apply for scholarships and raise the money. FAFSA will take care of about a third of everything, maybe a half, depending on what I get awarded.

So TLDR, every little bit helps. After September I'll be setting up a Gofundme with all of this info in it, along with the full breakdown of costs! But right now I'm just trying to prepare as much as possible. Buying totes is one of the things I need the most.

I also have minor things I just... Need to get done. I need to see a rheumatologist and Medicaid won't pay for it. I need to get assessed for a special type of contact lens that Medicaid won't pay for. Raven has similar issues - they need gender-affirming care that Medicaid won't pay for.

So generally speaking, cash in any denomination is something we desperately need.

But it's also my birthday and I really would love certain books and stuff! So... If you can do a thing, know that I'll love you forever. I have cherished every single gift I've ever received from y'all and I've kept the little notes you've sent me. I'm a sentimentalist.

I'm gonna be scanning all of those so I can get rid of them, finally, because I'm getting rid of most of my paper things. I simply don't have the space and energy to maintain that. But I love them and I keep them, to this day. ♥️

[yoditorian]

the real question is does din consult rebel or does he buy it without their knowledge and return home like a man truly too deep into a midlife crisis knowing they can’t do anything about it and he’ll just have to bear the consequences

he’d never admit it but din djarin is a man in his 40s and this starfighter is his ferrari

about this post i made about the book of boba fett

hello this is months old and i’m only just posting it leave me alone

lacuna’s masterlist for context

“What the fuck is that?”

“Hi.” He’s still got the helmet on, the shutters to the workshop are still flung wide open to welcome the last of the afternoon sun, but he knows the set of his shoulders gives him away.

Din Djarin is nervous.

He watches carefully as you narrow your eyes at the starfighter on the landing pad behind him, scanning the smooth edges of the ship for - well, he’s not sure what. But you’re obviously looking for something.

“Where did you find a piece of shit like this?” Your eyes are wide, clouded with disbelief. It’s clear this can only go one way or another.

He considers his answer carefully, folding his hands in front of him and stepping aside as you wipe the grease from your own on the rag hanging from your pocket. You move slowly, purposefully, and maybe it’s not a great time to admire the way you poke at the mechanics behind panels like they’re speaking to you. But hey, he married you. He’s allowed to fawn a little.

Your gaze pierces his visor over the open canopy, eyebrows raised as you wait for his answer.

“Tatooine.”

And there’s the eye roll, he knew it was coming.

“You’re joking.”

“Peli found it for me.”

“Fucking Peli,” you run a hand over your face in exasperation, “How much did she take you for?”

Okay, that’s something Din really doesn’t want to tell you. He knows he gave her more credits than this bucket of bolts is worth, not even counting the sweat he put into getting it together - and he doesn��t even want to think the amount of maintenance it’s going to take to keep the thing running. Maintenance that’ll land on you, because if you can’t go with him you’ll insist on at least making sure the thing won’t blow up mid flight.

His silence is enough of an answer for you to aim a halfhearted kick at the nose in frustration, at least none of the panels fall off with the jolt. It’s not like you’ve never flown on fumes and prayers alone, though Din knows you’d call desperate times and pull the rebellion card on that one. He can practically hear your defence already, how you’re a responsible adult with their own workshop now. You don’t have to snatch up the first thing that looks like it has half a chance to get you almost wherever you’re going, you have options. And so does he, though he’s always hard pressed to admit it. You’re convinced it’s a Mandalorian thing.

“What about your bounties?” You grunt as you pry off a panel over the left thruster, “Unless you’re planning on strapping them to the roof.”

“Fett has a job for me. Wanted to visit you and the kid before I head back there in a couple of days.”

You raise your eyes from the open panel, nimble hands paused in their delicate work.

“How is he?”

Din tilts his head in confusion.

“Fett?”

“You got a brain in there, oh great Mand’alor?”

He huffs a laugh, you have to make light of the situation. Neither of you can handle the sinking feeling in your stomachs at the sight of the empty chair at the dinner table alone. So he spares you the pain of knowing the truth, spares himself the guilt of being so close only to turn away.

“Terrorising every frog he can find, but he’s doing well. I think he misses you, the masters say he won’t leave his room in the mornings until someone’s tied that shawl around his waist.”

“That ratty thing, I can’t believe you let him take it back with him.”

“He loves it because you made it, cyar’ika.”

“Hardly,” You snort, “But until I find someone who can teach me to sew, that’s all I’ve got.”

Din rounds the pointed nose of the ship to hover over your shoulder. You’re focused on the wires, checking connections and tugging on joints to make sure the thing won’t fall apart in the sky. And he knows it isn’t because you don’t trust his work, he knows it isn't because you think it was actually a bad decision. It's about the number of pilots you've watched come crashing down to earth, its about the second empty chair that now sits at the table. So he lets you tinker.

Your shoulders deflate with a heavy sigh as you turn to him, tapping on his k’arta beskar with a pilex driver.

“Take the yellow dish in the fridge over to the farm, and I’ll start pulling this apart. I want to get a good look at it.”

“What?”

“You heard me." You step away to lever another access panel from the ship.

“I flew it here, it’s fine.”

“Get gone, Djarin.”

He moves to crouch over where you’re hunched in the dust, pulling at the hyperdrive motivator release, and lifts his helmet just enough to press a kiss against your sweaty temple.

“I love you.” Din’s words are a whisper by your ear, but never less sincere than the first time you heard them.

You turn your face up and away from the engine, just quick enough to catch his lips before they disappear back under the lowering helmet.

“I love you. Come back so I can tell you again.”

[hardskz]

a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands. 

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself.  “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.  

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut. 

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

[luckywatersao3]

Ahhhh I can’t believe I haven’t asked you this but!!! Do you have any fic recommendations (I’ll read any ship honestly and either marvel or hp)? I feel like you most definitely have top tier taste 😋💘✨

“top tier taste” heck yeah 💅

Sorry this took a week to respond to! I kept getting distracted when I was looking through my bookmarks being like "oh wow I forgot about this story" or "why haven't I bookmarked this story?"

Small disclaimer: I only really started using bookmarks in the last year, so a lot of fics that I read before than have fallen through the cracks here, especially in the HP fandom. But here are some that I really like!

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

The Man Who Lived (253826 words) by sebastianL Chapters: 42/42 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Additional Tags: Original Characters - Freeform, Sexual Content, Violence, Slow Burn, First Person, Character Study, Enemies to Friends, Friends to Lovers Summary:Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee.Set in New York twelve years after the war.

The Bucket List (32393 words) by GallaPlacidia Chapters: 17/17 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Pansy Parkinson, Teddy Lupin Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, contrived love curses, terminal illness but in kind of a light hearted way?, Draco Malfoy living his best life, Bucket List, Secret Identities, Sickfic Summary:Draco will die in six months if he can't get Harry Potter to fall in love with him. Since that's not going to happen, he might as well spend his last days working through his Bucket List. Tap-dancing lessons? Rock climbing? Poetry-writing? Threesomes? Cocaine? Getting to know his adorable cousin, Teddy Lupin? Draco will try them all!Feat. Cheerily pessimistic Draco, devoted bitch queen Pansy Parkinson, and a Harry who can't help but notice that something seems DIFFERENT about Draco, these days.Inspired by a lovely piece by khasael called Somebody To Love. Also indebted to You've Got The Antidote For Me by Kandakicksass and IDK My BFF Hermione? by lettered

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight (35723 words) by Omi_Ohmy Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Gregory Goyle Additional Tags: Board Games, Owls, Potions, Sharing a Bed, Grimmauld Place, HP: EWE, Pining Summary:When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too.

Harry Potter/Severus Snape

Between the Lines (22816 words) by Dementordelta Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape Summary:Harry discovers a secret in his Potions text and a friend in the Half-Blood Prince.

Final Examination (22807 words) by asecretchord Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape Characters: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Minerva McGonagall Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Snarry-A-Thon Challenge Summary:"Is this some sort of test?""Everything that doesn't kill you is.""Mind you," he added, "surviving doesn't always mean you passed."― Michelle Sagara West

Marvel

Peter Parker/Tony Stark

Stipulations (70043 words) by Anonymous Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Iron Man (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Michelle Jones, Pepper Potts, Aunt May, Ned Leeds, Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Vision (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), T'Challa (Marvel), Nakia (Black Panther), Happy Hogan Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Age Difference, Peter is 18, POV Alternating, Explicit Sexual Content, Power Imbalance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, author has already arranged a ride to church trust me Summary:Peter Parker’s longterm dream recently went from ‘get into MIT’ to ‘afford going to MIT’. As the time approaches, it’s dawning on him that he won’t be able to pay his tuition and afford the move to Cambridge all at once: he’s out of money, his secrets are beginning to pile up, and desperation has started creeping in...And then one night, he saves Tony Stark’s life.

Wouldn't Be The Worst Thing (7729 words) by deltorafray Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel) Additional Tags: Getting Together, First Time, Underage Drinking, (in the US), 20-year-old Peter Parker, Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Light-Hearted, drama-free, Daddy Kink, Panty Kink, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Riding, Sugar Daddy Tony Stark, Sugar Baby Peter Parker, Graphic Sex Summary:In which Peter somehow finds himself having a sugar daddy in Tony Stark without either of them meaning to, but neither really do anything to stop it. It’s not like anyone else bats an eye either, so it just … happens.

Refraction (16300 words) by chelicerata Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, But also, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Tony Stark is not Iron Man, (...Yet), Dimension Travel, Multiverse fuckery Summary:In which Tony Stark gets kidnapped (again), meets a real life superhero, and has a long-delayed midlife crisis.

Gift of Choice (11744 words) by tuesday Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark Additional Tags: College Student Peter Parker, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Tony Stark, College, Explicit Sexual Content, Stealth Crossover, Multiple Orgasms, POV Peter Parker, Lingerie, Sex Toys, Age Difference, Canon-Typical Violence, Sounding, Romance, Flirting, Adult Peter Parker Series: Part 15 of Author's Favorites Summary:Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Raising Hybrid Puppies (158269 words) by JayPendragon Chapters: 33/33 Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Iron Man (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: May Parker (Spider-Man), Pepper Potts, Bruce Banner, Ned Leeds, Michelle (Spider-Man: Homecoming), Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Adrian Toomes, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Phil Coulson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Slow Build, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Age Difference, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Tony Stark vs. The Media, jarvis disapproves, Consensual Underage Sex, Last Week Tonight as plot point, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Humor, Angst Series: Part 1 of Hybrid Puppy Verse Summary:When Tony saunters into the coffee shop, he never expected to meet Peter Parker, the incredibly hot barista with a brilliant mind and a passion for engineering only rivaled by Tony’s own. Tony always gets what he wants – which is pushing Peter up against the counter and making sure he forgets his own name.But he can’t.Because Peter’s sixteen.~*~A non-powered Tony/Peter coffee shop AU with billionaire Tony and working-class, teenage Peter. Also, Toomes has a bakery and somehow Last Week Tonight is a genuine plot point.Translations: Korean | Russian | ItalianFANART by plavkivie | COLLAGE by 1r0n5p1d3r

Revelations (126830 words) by Anonymous Chapters: 19/19 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Iron Man (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Happy Hogan, May Parker (Spider-Man), James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Wanda Maximoff, Vision (Marvel), James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanov (Marvel) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Power Imbalance, Age Difference, Peter is 18, Found Family, Slow Burn, Explicit Sexual Content, author has already arranged a ride to church trust me Summary:“I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?”An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

Left Hand Free (7836 words) by tuesday Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Multiple Orgasms, POV Peter Parker, College Student Peter Parker, Flirting, Romance, Banter, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Civil War Team Iron Man, Adult Peter Parker Summary:Peter and Tony's first meeting is both the same and very, very different. In which Civil War happens when Peter is a college sophomore, and Peter catches Tony on the rebound.—"Are you—are you hitting on me right now?"Tony looked up. "Do you want me to be? Because normally I'd start with how impressive this is—" He gestured with his free hand at where he was stuck to the door. "—but I'm afraid you might take it as encouragement to leave me here."

James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Steve Rogers Versus the Classics (34078 words) by thecommodore_squid Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Thor (Marvel), Lucky (Hawkeye), Rebecca Barnes, Winifred Barnes Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Modern Bucky, Bucky is a History Professor, Steve is still Captain America, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Literature, cinema, Steve's Therapists are a Bunch of Dead Authors, Steve is so Uncultured, Steve Has Issues, Bucky has issues, Healing Through Books and Movies, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Discussion of Past/Minor Character Death, Discussion of Suicidal Idealation, Drunk Steve is in Love With Thor, Clint Ships It, Violence, Injuries are Definitely Inaccurate, Glorified Movie Marathon and Chill Series: Part 2 of A Historical Relic and a History Professor Walk into a Bar- Summary:Steve narrowed his eyes. “I’m beginning to suspect I’ve been set up.”“I would never,” Natasha said, feigning shock.Steve sighed.“God fucking dammit,” he heard someone say and looked up.AKA An AU in which Steve is still Captain America and Bucky is the unfortunate history professor selected to help him understand those references.

Slide To Answer (6326 words) by relenafanel Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Captain America (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Wrong Number AU, Romantic Comedy, Phone Calls & Telephones, Dating, One Night Stands, Steve accidentally calls Bucky for dating advice, Bucky gives good advice, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings Series: Part 1 of Slide to Answer Summary:"What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

Etc or Multi pairings

Astronomy In Reverse (184785 words) by pansley Chapters: 25/25 Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, T'Challa (Marvel), James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Baron Zemo Additional Tags: Gratuitous Superfamily, Becoming a family, Hydra being a dick, Peter is canonly adorkable, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Peter Parker, unfair representation of the foster care system, Fluff, canon amount of angst, amateur (but effective) equine therapy, Civil War Fix-It, bucky is a good dad, Peter is a good kid, Steve is a good boyfriend, Tony is a good friend, and also kind of a sugar daddy, without benefits, Hero Worship, Peter is majorly stanning everybody in this fic and it's cute, world's most adorable basketball Series: Part 1 of Winter!Dad Summary:A year after the Winter Soldier failed his mission in DC, Bucky Barnes is doing his best to stay under the radar from both Hydra and Steve Rogers. His hope for a peaceful day-to-day life in limbo goes awry, however, when he meets Queens’ newest hero; a pure-hearted kid with a death wish and a ridiculous pair of red and blue pajamas.The last thing Steve expects when he finally tracks Bucky down is that, not only has the man been living in Queens all this time, right under his nose, but also that, in the two years since they last saw each other, Bucky somehow acquired a kid.Alternatively: How Peter Parker effectively fucks over Bucky Barnes, and also totally saves him.Dramatic reenactment by fanfictionbookclub on tiktok (WARNING: contains spoilers) LuckyWaters note: This is technically stucky, but it's more of a genfic IMHO

I've Found a New Baby (17756 words) by TellMeNoAgain Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harley Keener/Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Steve Rogers, Harley Keener/Bucky, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Bucky, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Tony Stark/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov Characters: Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Noir, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Period Typical Attitudes, Mob Boss Tony Stark, Mob-Type Violence, Dark Tony, dark bucky, Dark Harley, Dubious Consent, Mental Instability, Mild Kidnapping, Polyamory, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers Series: Part 1 of Roaring Hot Summary:This is the first story in the "Tony Stark is an insane 1920's Mob Boss and there's sex everywhere" fic that literally no one asked for but that kept me up nights until I wrote it.I'm sorry.But at least we'll be in that handbasket to hell TOGETHER, friends. LuckyWaters note: This is me recommending the entirety of the Roaring Hot series, I just thought it would be excessive to list all 13 parts lol

[libdemdisaster]

@governmentofficial​ [CONTINUED:]  „Are you ... drunk?“

Drunk sentence starters

Yes. Yes, Mycroft was quite drunk and there was absolutely no hiding it. After all, why else would he be calling Adam? He hadn’t spoken to the other man since... Oh, since he had left politics, Mycroft supposed. How long had that been? In his current state, he wasn’t quite sure. To be quite honest, he also wasn’t quite sure what had been running through his when he had called the other’s number. Just what had he been planning on saying?

“I’ve had a few drinks, yes,” Mycroft confirmed. Of course, ‘a few’ in fact meant far more than that. The actual number of glasses he had downed over the course of the evening was not something that he was willing to divulge.

“Are you and Williams still together?” He then blurted out. That was what he wanted to know, he supposed. Had it worked out? Had the disruption to their lives been worth it?

“Or are you both Kenyon now? I doubt you’re both Williams. Though, then again, maybe you are and he just nagged you until you relented on taking his last name. Are the two of you still in love?” As he spoke, he balanced his phone between his shoulder and his chin and poured himself out yet another reasonably large glass of scotch. Dear Lord, he was going to regret this in the morning.

"What the fuck his happening?” Adam muttered more to himself than Mycroft as he took the last few steps down the stairs to the landing. It had been years since he had last heard from the other and even back then they had certainly not been chummy enough to ask about each other’s love life. Well, apart from the time Holmes had had a direct hand in his and Fergus’s.

A drunk call from Mycroft Holmes. Well, at least that was entertaining and a good a reason as any to take a break from the god-awful film Fergus had decided they needed to watch tonight. So, Adam decided to indulge the man on the other end of the line.

“Don’t you start as well,” he replied and stepped over a paint bucket into the kitchen. They were having the downstairs redone; his voice echoed in the mostly empty kitchen as he crossed it to habitually check the fridge for interesting contents. “We’re getting married in the autumn and I just managed to convince him of Kenyon-Williams, with a hyphon.” Of course Fergus had wanted Williams. He’d almost managed to make Adam agree, too, just to get him to stop going on about it. It had gotten to a point where Adam wasn’t even so sure Adam Williams wasn’t such a bad name anymore.

“That answer your question?” he asked and pulled out a yoghurt for lack of better option. “I didn’t think I’d be the one you’d call during a midlife crisis or whatever this is.”

[theelliottsmiths]

Can someone please point Till in the direction of a good psychiatrist or therapist? I love him but he clearly needs to see someone. He's never been mentally healthy but he's getting worse. I'll make him donuts if he does.

If feel like it's some kind of midlife crisis shifted up to account for this version of his life starting in his thirties. That makes no sense does it?

I'm convinced that what has happened is he's realised he's getting older and might not be able to do certain things for much longer (or just in general has remembered very acutely that humans die and he is one of those). That's why he made a new Rammstein album, a new Lindemann album and a new book of poetry, and is rereleasing his dad's book too, and I think that's why he's just went you know what? Fuck it. Porn. Checking it off the bucket list only he doesn't seem the bucket list type.

You know when you're eating and look at the clock and have that Oh Fuck I have to go panic and just shove a whole sandwich in your gob to chew as you power walk to where you need to be? Till is shoving a metaphorical sandwich in his mouth and running. Truly another layer of the Knebel gag in the mouth thing.

It seems like a lot of people are beginning to view his behaviour as erratic and self destructive (to a higher degree than usual). Hopefully that means that if he is really struggling with his mental health/coke (I saw someone theorise he's been taking a lot of it to keep his energy up) and not just being a weirdo in a regular way friends and family will be able to pick up on it and try to help him look after himself.

I'm a firm believer that everyone at some point or another could benefit massively from therapy, waiting until someone is in crisis is a bad plan (and therefore that it should be wayyy more accessible and tailored to individual needs but that's a different topic to rant about), and I sure do wish someone could convince him of that as well actually.

If you bring the ingredients to my house I'll help you make them and we can set up a trap. I live very far away from anywhere they're touring so we're gonna need the assistance of a few other people if we're gonna steal him though. Honestly I think we could probably get Richard in on it of it was phrased carefully enough.

[biggy-habes]

Here We Go...

Well...I know that I am probably WAY too old to be getting into the whole blogging game. But here’s the thing...I have had an INSANE year! Topping an INSANE decade! Topping an INSANE 40 years! There has been entirely too many thoughts bouncing around in this skull of mine, and I need to find a way to get it all out. So I decided to start an online journal. Now the plan is that when I start getting all stir-crazy and I have ideas pinballing around, I sit down and put it down in words. The fact is that I went through a bit of a midlife crisis as the dreaded 4-0 started to creep up on me. It was rough. REAL rough. I had to come to terms with a lot of Life. I started reflecting on the life that I have lived so far. The good, the bad, and the absolute GRIMY.

For a while now, I have looked at one major opening on my Bucket List. And that was to perform a stand-up comedy routine. And I have found EVERY single reason in the world to not just take a shit and dive in. But it is time. Now as I mentioned before, I am going to share a lot of my personal life stories. And man, let me tell you...life is fucking HILARIOUS! My hope is that by getting these stories down in writing, I may be able to pull some material out of them.

Now I will not lie, a lot of what I post will have no rhyme or reason. It might be a reflection on life experiences. Sometimes it might be a story about one of the countless interesting characters that I have encountered along the way. And who knows, I might throw in a tale or two about my childhood or my grandmother. I will do my best to avoid political or religious posts. I want to start a blog that anyone can read. Now I will warn you, my language is kinda bawdy. So, try and keep this in mind and take it with a grain of salt. I swear a bit too much. But my hope is that I use it to season up a story rather than just being blatant. When I post some new material, I will add it to my FB page. Take a look and feel free to leave a comment or some feedback.

Or don’t. I mean, that’s cool too.

[soulvomit]

I'm very depressed with my same-age friendships

I keep finding that the 40s is this turning point where a majority of people give up on their dreams, and stop being encouraged by their social world to keep pushing. I feel like mainstream 40ness is this toxic slump into which I dont want to fall. I don't want to give up my dreams, my dreams are all I have. I've only had ANYTHING AT ALL because of dream chasing, because even when I've chased the moon I've managed to land in low earth orbit, but to not chase something at all means I stay on the ground. Even my impossible dreams still led me a little further forward.

I have a musician friend who feels extremely discouraged and at 45 is experiencing a social pressure to sell his instruments and give up on music entirely and it's because of the funny looks and pooh-poohing (people who pooh-pooh you are exactly that, POO-POO) that he's increasingly gotten over the years and he feels like nobody supports his goals anymore.

Granted, there are logistical issues involved with music that are not involved with my things (writing, art, computers are all ok as solo ventures but in many cases, music requires other people) and the older he has gotten the more he has found that he cant find people to play with. So many people leave music behind. It takes a backseat to work in the 20s if one doesn't manage to make the window of going pro and eventually as work and family obligations pile up, it gets left in the road.

But I really hope he doesn't quit for fairly selfish reasons. I hope he finds a way to keep doing it. Because him quitting would mean that the very last friend of mine my own age who hasn't given up on their dreams or goals, has quit.

I hang out with lots of younger people (as well as older people who are past this hump who end up being mentor figures) because this particular point in the aging narrative is extremely depressing and I can't be in a room full of naysayers and people who gave up.

Gen Xrs don't seem to have midlife crisis. We spent our 20s and 30s dreamchasing then settle down to the grind and feel like failures, and contemplate suicide, and perhaps get some small satisfaction from hunting down the last dreamchasers and pulling them back down into the bucket with the rest of the crabs.

I hate my own age group sometimes.

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

99¢ VAMPIRE PWF SALE! This sale doesn't suck. Get a copy of Bitten in the Midlife by Lia Davis & L.A. Boruff for only 99¢ NOW! Universal: https://geni.us/BittenMidlife

Jilted at the altar a month before her fortieth birthday. Poor Hailey. Midlife really does have a crisis. Or is it that midlife is the crisis? Either way, it sucks. Hailey Whitfield can’t take anymore run-ins with her ex. It’s time for a big change. She’s never considered moving away, but it’s her best plan yet. Bonus – her bestie lives next door! However, her new neighbor is… weird, to say the least. Extremely hot, but odd. So are his friends. But Hailey will take strange neighbors over facing her lying, cheat, deadbeat ex-fiancé all day, any day. Finding a job in a new town is more challenging than she realizes. With her savings depleted from the move, Hailey has to suck it up and take what she gets. After taking a job as a private nurse for an injured bounty hunter, things start to look up. Then a skip falls into her lap. Okay, sure. She was being nosy and reading an incoming fax intended for her patient. But with a little encouragement, Hailey takes on the task of tracking down the skip. It’s easy money. Right? Wrong. This skip is far more than Hailey bargained for. And her life is about to change in a very bloody and pointy kind of way. What a bite in the… Well, you know. With the help of her witchy best friend and her new, very pale neighbor, Hailey is going to collect her bounty. Or die trying. Fanged After Forty is a new witty spin-off from the bestselling series Witching After Forty by international bestselling authors Lia Davis and L.A. Boruff.

#booksale #99cbooks #discountbooks #bookdeals #pwf #paranormalwomensfiction #paranormalfiction #fangedafterforty #bitteninthemidlife #vampirefiction #paranormalfiction #bookbuzz #bookclub #booksbooksbooks #readers #booklovers #bookish

About Lia

Lia Davis is the USA Today bestselling author of more than forty books, including her fan favorite Ashwood Falls Series. A lifelong fan of magic, mystery, romance and adventure, Lia's novels feature compassionate alpha heroes and strong leading ladies, plenty of heat, and happily-ever-afters.

Lia makes her home in Northeast Florida where she battles hurricanes and humidity like one of her heroines. When she's not writing, she loves to spend time with her family, travel, read, enjoy nature, and spoil her kitties.  She also loves to hear from her readers. Send her a note at lia@authorliadavis.com!

About LA

LA (Lainie) Boruff lives in East Tennessee with her husband, three children, and an ever growing number of cats. She loves reading, watching TV, and procrastinating by browsing Facebook. LA’s passions include vampires, food, and listening to heavy metal music. She once won a Harry Potter trivia contest based on the books and lost one based on the movies. She has two bands on her bucket list that she still hasn’t seen: AC/DC and Alice Cooper. Feel free to send tickets.

Get Social With The Authors!

BookBub - Lia: http://bit.ly/2N3X2dS BookBub - LA: http://bit.ly/2Z2VA24 Facebook - Lia: http://bit.ly/2H7mhbL Facebook - LA: http://bit.ly/2ORBhk6 Website - Lia: https://authorliadavis.com Website - LA: https://laboruff.com

[redundantmidlife]

Drinks with my boss. Is it a bad idea if it might lead to a dangerous affair?

I have recently been approached by my boss to go out for drinks after work. We get on really well and I'm sure if I put some effort in it could lead to more than dinner. A sordid affair maybe. I'm middle-aged, and wondering whether this is just a #midlifecrisis or something more? Yours, JJ Marvin's Answer: Midlife crisis activities can take many forms, but given the dangers an office romance is not the best one to go for. Much as I'm sure you'd like the excitement and rejuvenation of an affair, unfortunately you need to accept that a better path might be buying a new sports car, getting some trendy clothes or going on spa days. Yes, you may miss out on mind-blowing sex, However, at the same time it might be disappointing to both of you as you are now so set in your ways. You don't mention the age of your boss, but assuming she's younger she may not want to watch you fold your socks, read your book or floss prior to engaging in what might for you will probably be muscle-pulling shenanigans. As you might have seen recently, Ronald McDonald said "no" to office romances by sacking their CEO for dating someone junior to him in the business. So unless you too want to make a speedy exit from the company, I'd scrub this affair idea from your bucket list. There's plenty of resources out there that talk of the negative implications, but maybe that's because if anyone published anything saying something positive they'd be lynched, trolled or forced to live in eternal damnation. An imaginery affair

An imaginary affair? Oh, and let's not forget much of it might be in your imagination anyway. The trouble with middle age is that fantasy takes root. For your boss, an affair with you may rank below clearing up after their dog. In fact, she may be asking you out to sack you, or talk about offering you the chance of redundancy. Don't fall into the trap of thinking anyone asking to spend time in your company wants your witty stories and body. I mean, do people really want to listen to your tales of midlife arthritis, whilst looking at your grey hair and bulging waistline over a glass of wine... Need I say more? The best thing to do is find a wing man or woman to accompany you on your night out. This should be someone who finds socialising after work a chore, but lives near you, so that when they get up to go after their one shandy, you'll go with them. Read the full article

[tevotbegotnaught]

Dubov's Last Jump-off pt 3

Saturday afternoon, we found out the club couldn’t (or wouldn’t) accommodate our third night. Dubov had to pay us, of course. Mo was looking at other venues, possibly for tonite, realistically for the coming week. He asked our availability. Once we all responded, possibilities quickly evaporated. That weekend passed and more days after.

After waiting a week, I texted Mo about money. Hours later, he replied:

“High paint he otter eyes or sue didn’t cut anything”

At the gigs, I watched Mo use his phone; its screen at his nose, glasses mid way between forehead and hairline. He looked down precipitously, grumbled, grumbled again, then pressed send. What usually came through was a ransom note clipped from Beckett. He never corrected these puzzles until one of us asked. Here, a fully translated version of our exchange:

“I paid the other guys, you sure you didn’t get anything.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Did you send your invoice to Julie.”

“Yes”

“I’ll call them”

“is there anything I can do to expedite this?”

“Chris, I’m not your employer”

“Right”(!)

“There’s a rehearsal tonite, will you be there”

“I didn’t know about a rehearsal. Where and when?”

“Still working on a place. Maybe 7?” (3 hours from now)

“Tough for me”

“No worries. If you go, you’ll be paid of course”

“Ok”

“No worries. I’ll get back to you”

Now, I was enrolled in the Godot payment plan. Dubov was looking at spending four lifetimes in more chains than Issac Hayes ever wore. I just wanted to get my money.

Weeks later, Mo Bedbug went live.

“Bears ash oh Friday”

Mo called in a favor with some Long Islanders. We had a show Friday. I lobbied for travel money.

Any evening rush hour on the LIE (a highway, not an enormous falsehood) was a parking lot. Friday rush was tailgating minus libations. I pressed him for my other money in the bargain.

“I paid Pianist with Venmo. Do you have Venmo.”

(I send my Venmo)

“This is will be easy, I didn’t know you had Venmo.”

“Ok”(I offered twice before)

“I’ll see you Friday my place"

Mo balked at travel money, though. Arranging an Uber from his place and promising we'd miss rush hour. To get to Mo's, I took the bus, two of them. It cost me way more than the fare. Flushing Avenue, Shabbat imminent, was a sightseeing tour: high school kids, restaurant workers, construction crews. So many people boarding, I couldn’t see nor hear my stop and had to walk an extra half-mile.

Turning onto Mo’s street, a familiar Bushwick tableau appeared. A massive pit, surrounded on three sides by green plywood. Graffiti tags and band decals fading under the shrouds of old posters. At the curb, a ziggurat of garbage-strewn ten-foot pipes and a marooned RV, black spray paint scrawled over its siding and vents, windows cracked and stuffed with wads of insulation, front seats piled to the ceiling with bundled magazines and crumpled newsprint.

On the next block, I found Mo's address stenciled on the brick wall of a old factory. Drummer stood away from its entrance smoking and scrolling his phone. He looked up.

"Man, I texted him like 10 minutes ago."

"No answer?"

"He said he’s coming right down"

"I’ve been giving him progress reports. F***ing bus was crawling."

The building’s entrance, a glass and brushed steel module, sat cheek by jowl with a battered freight elevator. After a text reminder and more waiting, the freight elevator doors parted vertically. Mo let the canvas strap swing overhead.

"This way" he said, glancing over his shoulder at the gleaming foyer before pulling the strap down. The elevator enclosure, a hypoxic chamber of fuel vapors and sawdust, led darkly to a huge steel door. Mo punched a code and pulled the handle. Inside, a newly carpeted hallway, filled with tarps, drywall, paint cans and the potent smell of sandalwood.

"They’re still doing work....as you can see. My place is cool, though.”

"Where’s Keys (the new pianist)?"

"He’s here. Been here a while. Working on the music."

"You have a piano?"

"Uh, I have kind of a studio. Not for recording, but you know, instruments and stuff."

Mo had room for those instruments and plenty more. His walls sprouted art in every medium and material: paintings on wood, metal, plastic jugs, shards of glass; sculptures of bottle caps, cardboard, styrofoam; violent, erotic black and white photos fetishizing punk style and concert posters from Downtown’s acme.

I stooped to gawk at an undulating video in a KFC bucket.

“That’s from my gallery. I used to have a gallery. When it closed I moved everything here. Well, not everything, but…you know.”

Keys sat on a leather couch. He was a kid, maybe twenty-five. I was his grandfather. That messed me up. Before excusing himself, Mo pulled me an espresso from a fancy Italian machine. I packed sandwiches and coffee, but the extra shot was welcome. From a closed door, medicinal-grade weed wafted. We were a full hour behind schedule.

Out on the street, waiting for the Uber, Mo nodded at the construction site and listing RV, saying in his mumblecore voice,

"That’s my girlfriend’s art project.... I mean, ex-girlfriend. "

"The RV? She did THAT?"

"Yeah....Well, her friends... they did it together. I don’t know who did which part"

(There were ‘parts’?)

"How long has it been there?"

"Uh....nine months. Wait...yeah. We broke up six months ago. She was living in it for a while."

"Living in it? You’re kidding. Was that part of the project?"

He chuckled. "Yeah...I don’t know."

"We’re still friends" he said, mostly to tumbling litter in the street.

Inside the Uber, Mo continued: “the realtor told me this was east Williamsburg, but it’s not, it's Bushwick. I don’t care what they call it, of course. I don’t mind living in Bushwick. It’s easier to have a car here.”

“You have a car?”

“Not now. Had to get rid of it. Wasn’t right for this neighborhood”

“Wasn’t right?”

“it was an Audi R8. Midlife crisis car. These streets are so bad, I kept having to get it fixed.”

Driving due east, the winter sun behind us pooled on the shiny road. We careened through four lane traffic. Ahead, break lights fanned out, ruby droplets cascading off a humpback’s tail.

Drummer and Keys talked through the set, then volleyed gossip about mutual friends.

When the radio spun an artist he knew personally, Mo turned around and apropos-ed a story, interrupting the other guys. In the 80s, he produced videos for many fledgling stars. It was a new medium for him and Pop music. A few of his clients soared from Downtown digs to world domination. Mo didn’t stay on for their ascent, though. He also worked on an early Dubov-produced movie until the boss’s relentless cost-cutting and hostility wore him down. While he rambled, a vape pen did plenty of its own talking.

Tonight’s venue, a redux of a famous Long Island rock room, now tucked in the basement of a new boutique North Shore Inn. That building, a block-size Cape Cod, dropped like Dorothy’s whirling farmhouse at an angle to the tony commercial strip.

We had a seriously low pressure slot, opening for a veteran blues band. Ten white guys from three generations; a solid outfit with a long history playing sincere, tasty covers. Always simpatico, Karolina added "Stormy Monday" to our set list. Due to the short notice, we lost Pianist, our stellar MD, and Trumpet wasn’t available. Pruned to prototypical stripper band: saxophone, piano and drums. Not without some irony..

When the ladies hit “Uptown Funk", shimmying and signifying, the audience, almost all sixty year-old white dudes with the occasional spouse, started hooting and whistling. T and A wasn’t on the bill, but it still satisfied. Margherita did her canned steps for ”Too Darn Hot". Karolina was confident and sold her songs. Keys somehow kept the basslines and harmonies together. I completely missed the famous trumpet intro to “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy". The ladies jumped in undaunted. The Male Gaze kept the show alight until we exited, dodging the headliner's B3, Leslie and vintage amps.

The ladies were pros now and we repaired to the underground parking lot to celebrate. The girls in jeans and hoodies, band in our "gangster suits". While she waited for Keys to blaze up. Margherita asked me,

“Did you have fun?”

"Sure, I always have fun" I told her. What counts as honesty when the entire premise of an act is fakery?

"Great" she said, tracking down the joint.

A couple hits and we went back inside, sitting down near the jacked-open exit door. The blues band’s horn section looked on wearily as the front man sang verses fashioned by tougher men for harsher times. From our seats, we saw Mo sweep through the green room doorway, his long canvas coat and scarf swinging. He pivoted at the closest table and exchanged with the owner, a grizzled man with a barely legal date. Their conversation rearranged chairs and sent the men striding out of the club, proving there actually were blues to be had everyday.

When Mo and dance partner failed to return, we headed upstairs and onto the porch, where patio furniture gleamed under blinding lights. At the foot of the wooden steps, livery cars glided in and out of the glare. After a flurry of texts, the ladies gathered their garment bags and kissed us goodbye. A black SUV, indistinguishable from the others, stopped and a rear window opened. Inside, Dubov’s face, like crumpled paper, if paper were milled from lipids and dusted with ash. "Good job guys" he said, voice level and hoarse. We thanked him. The ladies got in on the far side, Dubov’s window closed and the car drove off.

************************************************************************************

After dropping him at the factory, Mo left the meter running on our Uber so the band could get home. On the way, we speculated about Dubov’s eventual prison sentence, Mo’s fee and when "the New Yorkers" might book their first Bar Mitzvah.

The driver, a Bengali, navigated without commenting on our post-mortems, confirming and re-confirming each address for his app. I was last on the circuit. Once we were alone, I asked the driver about his night. His answers were brief and courteous. As we waited at a light, he turned his head toward me. "Excuse me, one question. Have you ever been to Las Vegas?"

[onews-chicken-line]

11 Questions Tag

Tagged by @164cm-of-talent thank you thank you thank you~

Rules: Answer 11 Questions from the people who tag you, then make 11 more for the next people you tag (or be me and never do that part of the tag because I stink at thinking of questions).

💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎

1. When it comes to dating, do you have an ideal ‘type’?

💎 I’ve only ever dated this one extremely awkward person so at least I know my ideal type is not them lol

2. What was the exact moment you knew that your bias was your bias in seventeen?

💎 WHO EVEN IS MY BIAS IN SEVENTEEN. I’M HAVING A MIDLIFE CRISIS CURRENTLY BECAUSE I LOVE THEM ALL. But every time my bias changes, it still ends up right back to Woozi eventually so...maybe...like right now it was back Josh and then it was Mingyu again after my hi-touch experience and then it moved to Seungcheol for the first time and now it’s still kinda Seungcheol but WOOZI’S FOREHEAD CHANGED MY LIFE.

3. What’s your favorite musical genre? (Aside from kpop)

💎 Well I sing opera sooooo probably that? Well actually jpop & jrock are also loves of mine, as is what I think they call new age piano? like Yiruma, Helen Jane Long, and Philip Wesley, and all the pretty songs from Deemo

4. Within the fandom, what’s your least favorite ongoing joke/meme? Or just something you don’t like about the fandom.

💎 I can’t really think of any related to Seventeen or Carats that I dislike...but I do dislike whitewashed pictures of Josh especially. i hope he knows that his skin is beautiful.

5. What’s your favorite part about yourself? Physically, or personality-wise.

💎 My eyes~ They’re a really pretty blue ^_^

6. If you could meet seventeen in any scenario, what would it be?

💎 I MET THEM DURING CHICAGO DIAMOND EDGE HI-TOUCH AND DIED INSIDE. But if I had a choice...hmmm...I’d say while singing karaoke! Basically I just really want to sing with them. Plus all of Seventeen at karaoke just sounds like an amazing time~

7. Do you speak a second language? More? If so, which ones?

💎 日本語をちょっと話せますけど、まだまだです。On the bucket list is also to learn Korean, Chinese, Thai, and German (gotta embrace my heritage & also German is so fun to sing in because you know your diction is on point when the first row of the audience is in the splash zone)

8. What was the first group that got you into kpop?

💎 Super Junior~ They will always hold a special place in my heart 💙 AND WHY SUPER 17 PICTURES MESS ME THE FUCK UP

9. What’s your ult OTP?

💎 Kyumin will always be original OTP ^_^ As for ultimate OTP...hmmm...probably either Markjin or Neo

10. What do you want to be when you grow up? Or if ur already grown up, what are you? Haha

💎 Will I ever be grown up? Or will I just constantly be Woozi wearing a sweater that says “Grown Up”? Anyway, the ultimate dream is to work abroad in Asia for a company that either preserves traditional music/theatre or schedules performances or whatever. Idk if that is even possible but you never know. I just want to combine my love for music & Asia & organizing/planning things.

11.Finally, is there anyone on Tumblr you want to be friends with?

💎 You~ ^_^

💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎

[melohax]

Tagged for 91 questions (holy shit)

@megatrashlord101 tagged me so lessgo. Also do forgive all the father-hatred in this, I’m in a pissier mood than usual today 😬

Rules: Answer 91 statements and tag 20 people. -Last- 1. Drink: Diet Coke 🤢 2. Phone call: My cardiologist. 3. Text message: Sent a photo of my dog looking dumb to one of my friends. 4. Song: Roundtable Rival (that girl is so talented) 5. Time you cried: This past summer. I was really worried over one of my foster dogs but thank god she’s fine now and has finally been adopted.

-Have You- 6. Dated someone twice: Sortaa. More like break up and get back together sprt of thing. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yeah 🙄 8. Been cheated on: Non. 9. Lost someone special: Yup, we all do eventually. 10. Been depressed: Aren’t we all, lol 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Nah.

-List 4 FAVORITE COLOURS- 12. Purple purplpurplepurplepurplep 13. Turquoise 14. Indigo 15. Pink

-IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU- 16. Made new friends: Yes.

17. Fallen out of love: Oh shit, kinda

18. Laughed until you cried: Yessss

19. Found someone was talking about you: No one that matters to me so I don’t really care.

20. Met someone, who changed you: Actually, yeah.

21. Found out who your friends are: I’ve always known who they are. They’ve all been the best friends I could ask for for over a decade so thankfully that hasn’t changed and doesn’t seem like it will anytime soon. 🙌

22. Kissed someone on your facebook list: Don’t have facebook atm.

-GENERAL- 23. How many facebook friends do you know in real life: Don’t have facebook atm.

24. Do you have any pets?: Two dogs, a rescued lab mix and a deaf chihuahua. I volunteer at various animal shelters and I foster dogs as well. 🐶

25. Do you want to change your name? Nah.

26. What did you do for your last birthday: I was elbows deep in dog shit cus I was fostering a sick Husky puppy. Thank fuck one of my friends was there to help me deal with that, I owe him my life jfc.

28. What were you doing at midnight last night: Watching Game Grumps vids.

29. Name something you can’t wait for: For my father to either fuck off somewhere far away or for him to finally kick the bucket. He went from once being a great man to now being an unforgivably stupid man in his 50’s.

30. When was the last time you saw your mum: 5 minutes ago.

31. What is the one thing you wish you could change in your life: My shitty health, turns out I have a weird heart problem now. Also my father. Every day I wish he was gone.

32. What are you listening to right now: The rain outside my window.

33. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I think? 🤷🏻‍♀️

34. Something that is getting on your nerves: My father. He’d best drop his white guy midlife crisis bullshit soon if he doesnt want everyone to leave him.

35. Most visted website: Reddit and The Nexus.

-MORE QUESTION- 36. Mole/s: Like beauty marks? Small one under my left eye.

37. Marks: What kind of marks does this mean tho

38. Childhood dream: I wanted to be either an astronaut or marine biologist.

39. Hair colour: Purple.

40. Long or short: Very long. I want it longer though, almost down to mid thigh would be really cool.

41. Do you have crush on someone: No. Romance is fun in fiction but a pain in the ass in real life.

42. What do you like about yourself: My nose and my waist. My figure in general.

43. Piercings: Sadly no. I’m allergic to practically every metal ever.

44. Blood type: O +, plebeian blood.

45. Nicknames: Melo

46. Relationship status: Single

47. Zodiac: Leo

48. Pronouns: She/Her

49. Favourite Tv Show: Scrubs, I think.

50. Tattoos: None.

51. Right or left hand: Left.

52. Surgery: Gotten surgery for my shitty ovaries.

53. Hair dyed a differtn colour: My hair is purple with a blue ombre.

54. Sport: Jesus no hahahaha

55. Vacation: Like my last vacation or something? My last vacation was in Amsterdam.

56. Pair of trainers: Sneakers? Yeah I have a few pairs.

-More- 57. Eating: I really love burgers. I’d eat a burger everyday if it wasn’t so unhealthy.

58. Drinking: I hate the blandness of water but I’m trying to drink more of it for my health. I love Horchata and fruit smoothies.

59. Dream last night: Gunshots and having to hide from something.

60. Want: My heart to beat normally. To never have to see my father again.

61.I’m about to: Go to the cardiologist at 4 pm.

62.Waiting for: 4pm.

63.Lips or eyes: Both?

64.Get married: Ugh no.

65.Career: I have a cosmetology degree and already work as a makeup artist. I might be more suited for animal care, though, not entirely sure yet.

66.Hugs or kisses: Hugs.

67.Shorter or taller: I wanna be tall enough to punch my father in the face without having to hop up and down lol.

68.Older or younger: ????

69.Nice arms or nice stomach: Is this askinng what I want or what I have??

70.Sensitive or loud: ?????

71. Hook up or relationship: Hook up.

72.Troublemaker or hesitant: Troublemaker.

73.Kissed a stanger: Yeah.

74.Drank hard liquor: Yeah but I don’t really like the taste so I almost never do.

75.Lost glasses/contacts: No.

76.Turned somebody down: Yeah.

77. Broken somebody’s heart: Yeah but not on purpose.

78.Had your heart broken: Once. Never again, though.

79.Been arrested: No.

80.Cried when somebody died: Yeah.

81: Fallen for a friend: Yup.

-Do you believe in-

82.Yourself: Depends on the situation at hand and what I’m supposed to do.

83.Miiracles: LOL no

84. Love at first sight: Lmao no

85.Santa Claus: No

86.Kiss on the first date: Why is this even here. Whats wrong with kissing on a first date? If thats what you wanna do, go for it.

87.Angels: I’m not religious or a spiritual kind of person tbh.

88. Magic in a young girl’s heart: I think this shit only exists in shoujo anime.

-Others- 89.Current best friend’s name: Aimée 90. Eye colour: Brown. 91. Favorite movie: Pan’s labyrinth

I don’t really know who to tag but anyone who wants to do this thing, go ahead and tag me in it, I’ll read it

[animationnut]

To Gravity Falls, From Piedmont: Chapter 25

Summary: It’s a long way until next summer. Until then, Dipper   and Mabel share their daily antics and life problems with their lifelong friends and attentive great-uncles through an endless string of   e-mails. Distance makes the heart grow fonder after all, and there’s no place Dipper and Mabel love more than Gravity Falls.

                                                     Chapter List

To: Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude); Grunkle Stan (StantheMan); Grunkle Ford (Highsixer); Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan)

From: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn)

Subject:  Nice shirt, bro

1 Attachment (Photo File)

Hey!

The picture you are about to view is a rare sighting. I’ve always known Dipper owned this shirt, but I’ve never caught him wearing it, as hard as that is to believe. But I finally succeeded and I had to share this for posterity.

Much love,

Mabel

“Mabel!”

Pressing her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles, Mabel stayed as still as possible in the bathroom closet. She was sitting on a pile of faded towels, the corner of a washcloth dangling from the shelf above ticking her forehead. She listened as Dipper stomped around the house, shouting her name angrily. Doors opened and slammed shut and it was not long before he checked the bathroom closet. He flung the door open wide, light spilling into the small confines, and Mabel gave a half-shriek, half-laugh.

Dipper glowered. “This will be your final resting place.”

Grinning, Mabel held up her hands in a defensive manner. It did not pass her notice that her brother was wearing a grey sweater instead of the shirt she had caught him in ten minutes ago, but she was wise not to remark on it. “Aw, come on, I couldn’t resist!”

“You’re not even supposed to be here! I thought you had theater!”

“Director cancelled—he got food poisoning, so I came home early.” Mabel wrangled her way out of the closet and stood, smoothing out her yellow sweater with a glittery sunshine sewn onto the front. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear me.”

“I was listening to music,” snapped Dipper. “You have theater for three hours twice a week. That’s my ‘me’ time. You’ve ruined it and my reputation.”

“They’ll think it’s funny,” insisted Mabel. When Dipper continued to scowl, she tugged on his arm beseechingly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that I never see you in that shirt and it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

Wrinkling his nose, Dipper regarded her sincere, apologetic expression before letting out a huff of air, the final shreds of anger and annoyance evaporating. “Sisters.”

“A rare, confusing breed,” said Mabel with a straight face.

“Not so rare,” returned Dipper, managing to bite back a smile. “Grunkle Stan is never going to let me hear the end of this.”

“He’ll forget all about it when you do something else that’s completely embarrassing.”

Levelling a finger at her, Dipper warned, “Be aware of what you have started. I shall have my revenge.”

A twinge of unease coursed through Mabel and she inched her way towards the door. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna go…arrange my knitted cozies. Love you!”

She skipped off and Dipper shook his head, shuffling out of the bathroom and heading into the living room. He reluctantly removed his phone from his pocket, where the infernal picture was still on the screen. It showed him sprawled out on his bed, eyes closed and chin tilted towards the ceiling. A pair of headphones were resting firmly over his ears. He was wearing a very old, very faded, very ratted white shirt that had a fuzzy rubber duckie on the front, only a few tufts of yellow feathers remaining. It was short, the hem riding well over his belly button, and the sleeves hanging a few inches off of his shoulders.

“Next time, barricade the door,” he muttered to himself, cheeks flushing red. Taking a breath, he braced himself and began to read the comments.

Grunkle Stan: This must be what a midlife crisis looks like when you’re not yet middle age and have only been in existence for just over a decade.

Grunkle Ford: That’s a very durable shirt, if you’ve owned it for as long as it seems.

Wendy Corduroy: Huh. Totally figured you were more of a lamb guy, but ducks are equally sickeningly cute.

Soos Ramirez: Dude, I used to have the same shirt. Except it was a cub. And it didn’t have cool fur. And it was a sweater.

Wendy Corduroy: So nowhere close to being the same.

Dipper Pines: It’s comfortable!

Grunkle Stan: I don’t care if it’s the most comfortable thing on the planet, it’s hideous.

Grunkle Ford: So is your undershirt, which was once white and is now yellow and apparently very comfortable.

Grunkle Stan: True, but at least it doesn’t have a duck on it.

Dipper Pines: That’s the last time I have my guard down when I wear that thing—and there will be a next time.

Mabel Pines: You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this opportunity.

Wendy Corduroy: You’ve seriously never seen him in it before this?

Soos Ramirez: Wow, that’s impressive.

Mabel Pines: I know, right? There’s pictures of him wearing it when he’s five and six. I’ve always known he kept it in his dresser, and I know he wears it occasionally. I never managed to catch him until now.

Soos Ramirez: And it fits? Is it magic?

Dipper Pines: Don’t think so. It���s just really stretched out and I’m severely lacking in the muscle and height department.

Grunkle Stan: I’m definitely framing this picture.

Wendy Corduroy: If I ever find a larger version of that shirt I’ll send it to you.

Grunkle Ford: Don’t be too mad at your sister, my boy. This will blow over soon enough.

Dipper Pines: The anger has passed. I am now focussing on my revenge.

Grunkle Stan: I’d sleep with both eyes open if I were you, Mabel.

Enacting payback on his sister was not an easy task, not that Dipper ever expected it to be. She had always been outgoing and much less reserved, so there wasn’t much that embarrassed her. She spent a lifetime wearing colourful sweaters, belting out pop songs in public and covering every inch of available skin with glitter and stickers. She was also on her guard, so he couldn’t trick her into an embarrassing situation. He would have to wait for the right opportunity to arise.

A few weeks passed by and his patience (with a good mix of karma) won out. He was sitting at his computer desk, working on his science homework, when he realized that it was oddly quiet. Brow furrowing, he swung himself out of the computer chair and ventured in search of his sister. He passed through the kitchen, the living room and the bathroom, but did not find her.

“Hmm.” Dipper went back the living room, hands on his hips. He glanced at Waddles, who was lounging on the couch. “Don’t suppose you know where Mabel is?”

The pig shifted his position, so that his snout was facing the window, and snorted.

“Outside, huh? Thanks.” Dipper gave Waddles a pat on the head and strode for the front door, sticking his socked feet into a pair of sneakers. He ventured into the yard and swung around the cracked stone path that led into the back.

She wasn’t anywhere in sight, leaving only one place for her to be. Dipper jogged over to the wooden shed and yanked open the door. He stared for a moment, a slow grin curling across his features. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

The right sleeve of her pink sweater was caught on a rusted nail sticking out of the wall and her left foot had broken through the bottom of a green plastic bucket. Her toes hovered an inch off the ground and she was struggling to wrench herself free of her predicament. She had frozen the second her brother walked in, a dull blush spreading across her face.

“Aw, come on, don’t—”

Dipper removed his phone from his jacket pocket and snapped a picture.

To: Grunkle Ford (Highsixer); Grunkle Stan (StantheMan); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude); Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn)

From: Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan)

Subject: Payback

1 Attachment (Photo File)

Did you think I forgot my vow of revenge? No way. All I had to do was wait patiently for the right moment. It’s all about opportunity, right Mabel?

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Wendy Corduroy: Okay. I want to ask how the heck you managed to end up in that position, but I feel like that may be a stupid question.

Soos Ramirez: That looks uncomfortable.

Mabel Pines: It is.

Grunkle Stan: You gonna tell us how this happened? Cause I seriously want to know.

Dipper Pines: She needed to reach something on the shelf and used the bucket as a ladder. She got caught on a nail and when she was trying to free herself her foot went through the bucket. She’d tell you this herself, but she’s trying to type with one hand and it would take too long.

Mabel Pines: Thanks a lot.

Dipper Pines: Anytime.

Grunkle Ford: Are you satisfied?

Mabel Pines: No.

Dipper Pines: Yes.

Mabel Pines: Oh, fine. I guess I deserved it.

Wendy Corduroy: You guys never fail to make me laugh. Thanks, seriously, for lighting up my day.

Soos Ramirez: Yeah, you hambones are great!

Mabel Pines: Aw, it’s nothing.

Dipper Pines: We’re naturals at amusing people, even when we’re not trying to.

Grunkle Stan: I wonder if there are any traits that we don’t share.

Grunkle Ford: Is this the end of your little feud?

Dipper Pines: I’m calling it quits. I don’t think I—or my reputation for that matter—can handle any more candid camera.

Mabel Pines: You got me fair and square, bro.

Grunkle Stan: So you both will never again take advantage of a super embarrassing and hilarious moment that occurs to the other?

Dipper Pines: Heck no. We just won’t be waiting around and trying to get each other. That doesn’t mean we won’t take the opportunities when they happen.

Mabel Pines: We’re only human.