#time and invoicing system for accountant

[todaynewsonline]

HR Software Info

Human Resource (HR) software has become an indispensable tool for modern organizations, revolutionizing the way businesses manage their workforce. From recruitment to retirement, HR software streamlines processes, enhances efficiency, and improves employee satisfaction. This article explores the key features, benefits, and considerations of HR software. Features: Recruitment and Applicant…

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

They told her she was just spending the night in Miami.

No warning. No lawyer. No time to pack. Just steel cuffs wrapped around her wrists, cinched tight across her chest, chained to a waist belt so snug she couldn’t breathe. A bus with no food, no water, no bathroom—just a puddle of piss soaking the floor. The guards told her to go ahead and urinate where she sat. She did.

Then they pushed her into Krome.

Krome, the Miami processing center where men with criminal records are supposed to be held—not immigrant women with no charges, no convictions, no voice. Krome, where she and 26 others were stuffed “like sardines in a jar,” forced to sleep on concrete, offered one three-minute shower in four days, and told by guards to pretend to have a seizure if they wanted medicine. One woman actually had a seizure. They came for her. The rest they ignored.

Three people are now dead in ICE custody. Three. In just over a month. Genry Ruiz-Guillen, 29, from Honduras, died January 23. Serawit Gezahegn Dejene, 45, from Ethiopia, died January 29. Maksym Chernyak, 44, from Ukraine, died February 20.

No convictions. No due process. No protection. Just death under fluorescent lights.

And while the bodies pile up, the architects of this system are laughing.

THE ARCHITECTS OF SUFFERING

Tom Homan—now officially Trump’s Border Czar—is no longer just shouting from Fox News panels. He’s in charge. And he’s promising “deportations every day,” vowing to expel millions. He’s pushing to build new detention camps on military bases and at Guantanamo Bay, to outsource incarceration to local jails, and to lower federal detention standards across the board. He wants to hand over human lives to any sheriff with a cage and a budget. This isn’t law enforcement—it’s a national purge.

Kristi Noem is no longer the governor of South Dakota. She’s been promoted to Secretary of Homeland Security, overseeing ICE, CBP, and FEMA. She’s already begun reshaping disaster policy and immigration enforcement with the cold efficiency of someone who never cared about the human cost. She’s toured detention centers abroad and proposed funneling more power and funding into the machine that’s already killing people. This is the woman now in charge of protecting the homeland—and she’s treating it like a battlefield.

And Stephen Miller—the alabaster goblin behind Trump’s first wave of xenophobic terror—is back inside the West Wing as Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy and Homeland Security Advisor. He is not hiding. He is not softening. He is laying the groundwork for mass deportations, family separations, and the total militarization of immigration enforcement. Miller’s strategy is simple: flood the system, break it, and make cruelty look like order.

This isn’t mismanagement. This isn’t politics. This is state-sanctioned human suffering.

ICE has 46,269 people in custody—far above its legal bed count of 41,500. Congress just rewarded them with another $430 million. Detention centers are overflowing. Guards are whispering, “It shouldn’t be like this.” But they keep turning the key. They keep locking the doors.

Because this system wasn’t designed to rehabilitate. It wasn’t designed to deter. It was designed to break people.

And it’s working.

CORPORATE PROFITEERS OF THE GULAG

Akima Infrastructure Protection—remember that name. That’s the private contractor running Krome under a $685 million federal contract. Your tax dollars. Your country. Your name on the invoice. And Akima didn’t just ignore the reports of overcrowding, abuse, and death—they didn’t even respond. Because they don’t have to. In America’s immigration gulag system, accountability is optional, profits are mandatory.

Akima isn’t alone. The privatized detention racket is a booming business. The worse the conditions, the higher the margins. More detainees equals more beds, more guards, more federal payouts. These aren’t just prison contractors—they’re war profiteers in a domestic war against the poor, the brown, the undocumented, and the disposable.

And while three human beings die in government cages in thirty goddamn days, ICE puts out a statement saying they can’t verify the abuse without the women’s names. That’s like watching a house burn down and saying you can’t help unless the flames file a formal request.

What ICE really means is this: unless you hand us their names, we can’t retaliate.

FEAR, SILENCE, AND THE NEW AMERICAN NIGHTMARE

These women are afraid to speak because they know what happens to people who tell the truth in a system built to erase them. Their fear isn’t paranoia. It’s wisdom. Because in Trump’s America, the immigration system is no longer civil. It’s punitive, predatory, and lethal.

And while this slow-motion horror show unfolds behind steel bars and security checkpoints, the rest of the country scrolls past it—too tired, too numb, too wrapped in talking points to see what’s right in front of them:

The United States is running concentration camps again.

Not in secret. Not in shadows. In Miami. In Arizona. In Texas. With full congressional funding. With bipartisan indifference. With the open approval of a political movement that cheers cruelty like it’s patriotism.

And unless we name it, scream it, and rage against it, it’s only going to get worse.

Because this administration has made it clear: they don’t want to fix the system. They want to break more people. Faster. Cheaper. Louder.

And if that means more body bags? So be it. To them, that’s not a failure.

It’s the plan working exactly as intended.

WHAT THE HELL DO WE DO?

We stop pretending this is normal. We stop calling it a “broken system” and start calling it what it is: a weapon.

We hold the names. We name the dead. We say Genry. Serawit. Maksym. Not as footnotes, but as proof that silence is complicity.

We pressure Congress to defund ICE, to end private detention contracts, to shut down Krome and every facility like it. We demand independent investigations, criminal accountability, and media that covers these stories like lives are on the line—because they are.

We support immigrant-led organizations. We raise hell at town halls. We show up with signs, with lawsuits, with cameras, with righteous fury. We flood their offices. We write until our fingers bleed. We organize, we protest, we resist.

And if you’re in a position of power—if you’re a staffer, an attorney, a journalist, a human being with a platform—you use it. This is not a drill. This is not a moment to stay neutral.

The machine is killing people. The people running it are proud of that. And history will not forgive anyone who stood by and watched.

Raise your voice. Wreck their silence. And don’t stop until the cages are empty.

[Bill Adkins]

[terastalungrad]

It's been a while since I shared any of my writing on this platform, so here's a piece I'm extremely proud of.

It's an email:

Checking my account, this invoice still hasn't been paid. I wonder if we could establish a system where these can be paid on time, rather than when I notice they haven't been?

[woradat]

SCENARIO : FINE PRINT

PAIRING - swindle x reader

After the war ended with the Autobots technically “winning” and all – what was left of the economy and legal system resembled a scrapyard fire on a windy day

Enter you: the infamous gray-area legal consultant with a perfect courtroom win streak and a billing rate that makes senators sweat. As long as clients bring enough shanix, you're their savior in a three-piece suit. Which is why you haven't had a single peaceful recharge cycle — former Decepticons are lining up outside your office like it's a Black Friday sale, all begging for: “record wipes / charges dropped / confiscated property restored”

Apparently, galactic war crimes are just.. paperwork now

And one of the most unhinged clients you’ve ever had the misfortune (or financial fortune) to take on?

 Swindle

Arms dealer. Con artist. Entrepreneur. A one-mech Wall Street crash with wheels. He swears up and down he’s done nothing wrong—he just happens to maintain a “business contact list” featuring every name responsible for minor incidents like, oh, intergalactic war. According to him, he's not guilty, he's just networked

—

“I didn’t sell weapons to radical insurgents! I just... opened a pop-up shop next to their hideout. Coincidence!”

“You literally put up a sign that said ‘Half off for certified terrorists"

“That was just marketing!"

·

·

Swindle talks like he’s being paid by the word, lies like it’s a religion, and schemes with the grace of a turbofox in a jewelry store. He’s slippery, shameless, and morally bankrupt—but hey, he pays on time. (In stolen tech, counterfeit credits, or suspiciously ticking crates, sure. But still.)

You? You’re sharp, strategic, and so chronically unimpressed you might be legally classified as allergic to bullshit. You despise his laugh, dread his entrance, and yet… you keep taking his jobs. Because, well. Money smells better than morals.

Every deal starts with ten rounds of shouting, legal threats, and Swindle trying to weasel out of his own paperwork. Every time ends the same

“Swindle” you begin, with the tone of someone who’s about ten seconds from launching themselves into the sun. “You just confessed to registering a business that sells personal nuclear energy... under the names of three dead bots.. that's–”

Swindle beams like a mech who just got away with shoplifting a tank “It’s called creative accounting! And hey, I never used those names to buy bombs. That was, like, a totally different Thursday”

You inhale slowly. Exhale even slower. Somewhere in your frontal processor, a stress circuit quietly fries itself

“Do you want to walk out of this courtroom, or should I go print out the arrest warrant myself in Comic Sans and hand-deliver it to Ultra Magnus with a bow?”

Swindle raises both hands like he’s being held at blasterpoint—optics wide, grin wider “Okay! Okay! I’ll follow your script! Just—please—don’t write ‘intent to defraud’ in the summary. It’s bad for the brand”

You blink “Brand? You’re a glorified black-market vending machine with legs

·

·

Swindle and you? It started as a business arrangement—a painfully loud, legally questionable business arrangement. But somewhere between the bribes, the threats, and the deeply unethical invoices, things got... complicated

You both are survivors. Quick with your words, quicker with your lies. Not evil, just desperately allergic to poverty. And as much as you hate to admit it, Swindle: the galaxy’s most untrustworthy lifeform, might just be the one who gets you the most

He’s a walking lawsuit in a sales pitch, you’re a ticking stress ball in a three-piece suit. He flirts like it’s a side hustle, and every time he drops some smug one-liner your way, there’s this... weird tension. The kind that makes you grip a file folder hard enough to bend steel, just to stop yourself from throwing it at his smirking face

Because sure, he’s slippery, shameless, and full of scrap. But primus help you—he always pays and worse… he always comes back

—

NOTE - I wrote it just in case I ever make a fanfic about him in the future or I'll just leave it to rot. Just thinking about Swindle, he's funny guy. Why not write it down? What my mind was thinking at 2am when I should have been asleep

[softerseasons]

Juno, out of curiosity, what does an accountant DO? What does it mean to be one? Because I know there's math involved. I've heard it's very boring. But I don't know anything else and I'm curious because you're very good at putting things to words.

Okay first of all, I cannot express just how excited I got when I first saw this message. There is nothing I love more than talking about things I know about, and usually when my career is mentioned I don't get questions so much as immediate "Oh, bless you" and "I could never"s. Which- totally fair! For some people, accounting would be boring as all hell! But for a multitude of reasons, I adore it.

There are multiple types of accounting. The type most people tend to be more familiar with is that done by CPAs- CPAs, or Certified Public Accountants, are those that have done the lengthy and expensive process to be certified to handle other peoples' tax documents and submit taxes in their name, amongst other things. Yawn, taxes, right? Well, the thing with that is that there's a lot of little loopholes that tax accountants have to remain familiar with, because saving their clients a little more here or getting a little more back there can really add up, and can do a lot for people who, say, have enough money to afford to hire someone to do their taxes but not necessarily enough to be going hog wild with. Public accountants can work for large firms or by themselves, and also do things like preparing financial statements for businesses, auditing businesses to ensure all of their financial transactions are true and accurately reported to shareholders and clients, and consulting on how finances can be managed to maximize profit (money in - money out = profit, in very simple terms).

The type of accounting I do is private accounting! That basically just means that I work for a company in their in-house accounting/finance department. Private accounting tends to get split up into several different areas. My company has Payroll, Accounts Receivable, and Accounts Payable.

Payroll handles everyone's paychecks, PTO, ensuring the correct amount of taxes are withheld from individuals per their desires, and so on. Accounts Receivable handles money flow into the company- so when our company sells the product/service, our Accounts Receivable people are the ones who review the work, create the invoices, send the invoices to the clients, remind clients about overdue invoices, receive incoming payments via ACH (Automatic Clearing House- direct bank-to-bank deposits), Wire (Usually used for international transactions), or Check, and prepare statements that show how much revenue we are expected to gain in a period of time, or have gained in a period of time. This requires a lot of interfacing with clients and project managers.

My department is Accounts Payable. Accounts Payable does basically the other side of the coin from what Accounts Receivable does. We work mostly with vendors and our purchasing/receiving departments. We receive invoices from people and companies that have sold us products/services we need in order to make our own products/perform our services, enter them into our ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning, a system that integrates the departments in a company together- there are many different ERPs, and most people simply refer to their ERP as "the system" when talking internally to other employees of the same company that they work at, because saying the name of the system is redundant) using a set of codes that automatically places the costs into appropriate groups to be referenced for later financial reports, and run the payment processing to ensure that the vendors are being paid.

To break that down because I know that was a lot of words, here's some things I do in my day-to-day at work:

- Reconciliations, making sure two different statements match up: the most common one is Credit Card reconciliations, ensuring that there are appropriately coded entries in the system that match the payments made on our credit line in our bank.

- Invoice entry: this is basic data entry, for the most part. This can have two different forms, though

- Purchase Order Invoice entry: Invoices that are matched both to the service/product provided from the vendor and the purchase order created by our Purchasing/Receiving department. We ensure that the item, the quantity, and the price all match between our records, the purchase order, and the invoice, before we enter this.

- Hard Coded Invoice entry: Invoices that we enter manually due to there being no Purchase Order for them. This is often recurring services, like cleaning or repairs, that may happen too often or have prices vary too much for Purchase Orders to be practical.

- Cleaning up old purchase orders: sometimes Purchase Orders are put in the system and then never fulfilled. Because this shows on financial statements as being a long-standing open commitment, it looks bad, so we have to periodically research these and find out if the vendor simply didn't send us the invoice, if the order was cancelled, or if something else is going on.

- Forensics! This is my personal favorite part of the job, where someone has massively borked something that is affecting my work, and so I go dig into it, sometimes going back as four or five years in records to find the origin point of the first mistake, and untangling the threads of what happened following that mistake to get us to where we are today. There's an entire field called Forensic Accounting that is basically just doing This but for other companies (it's a subset of auditing, and often is done via the IRS) and that's my dream position to be totally honest. I loooove the dopamine hit i get with solving the mystery and getting praised for doing so faster than anyone else has even begun to realize the problem to start with.

- Balancing Credits/Debits: This is more of a Main Accountant role thing, but the long and short of it is that every business has Assets, Liabilities, and Equity. Liabilities and Equity are what we put into the company/what we owe, and assets are what we have received/what we are owed. Anything that increases Assets or lowers Liabilities or Equity is a Debit. Anything that decreases Assets or raises Liabilities or Equity is a Credit. Every monetary change we process has to include an equal Debit and Credit. This is its own whole lecture, so if you wanna know more about double-entry accounting, let me know, but it's yawnsville for most people.

- Actually cutting checks or initiating bank payments to vendors for amounts we owe them.

- Vendor communication: I'm on the phones and email a lot with vendors who are wondering where their payment is, or why something was short-paid, or if I can change some of their info in our system, and so on and so on. Every job is customer service, unfortunately. I don't love it, but I do a lot less of it in private accounting than I would have to do in public accounting.

- Spreadsheets: I make so many spreadsheets I am a goddamn Excel wizard. I love spreadsheets. This isn't necessarily accounting-specific though, most people in Finance jobs love spreadsheets, or at least use them to make their lives easier. I make them just for fun, because I'm a giant fucking nerd who finds that kind of thing enjoyable lol. So if you ever need a spreadsheet made for anything, hit me up.

As for math, that's a pretty common misconception. While there is math, it is very rarely more complicated than "I paid $3 of the $8 I owe, now I owe $5" for me. There are some formulas you learn in school (Business Administration with a focus in Accounting is what I studied), but they're also pretty standard and rarely include more than like... basic algebra. Which. Thanks @ god because I flunked so hard out of pre-calc in college. I could not have done accounting if it really were all that math heavy.

Aaaand yeah! That's all I've got off the top of my head- if you have any more questions about it, do let me know, I'm happy to ramble on for hours, but I'm cutting it here so I don't start meandering on without direction lol.

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks for the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Five

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 17.1k

Release date: June 26, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn, coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: A miscommunication has you bitter about your relationship with Seokjin. Will meeting one of his friends be enough to change you mind?

Chapter Warnings: swearing, miscommunication, Mingyu + Jungkook bff, Jungkook rides a motorcycle (that is a WARNING), masturbation (f+m), sex toys, pornography, alcohol, y/n is a messy drunk, a lil jealousy, SPOILER WARNINGS: oral (f,m), strength kink, spanking, slight brat behaviors, pet names, bigdick!Seokjin, slight exhibition kink, dirty talk, slight praise kink, unprotected sex, insecurity, traffic light system, consent, they're so stupidly down bad for each other, a little crying during sex moment, creampie

a/n: hello! finally, the moment we've all been waiting for! I appreciate your patience with this. I originally planned on a much shorter chapter, but I wanted to give our couple some time to really dig into their feelings for their first time, especially since they have so much at stake with each other. Just a reminder I'll be taking a short hiatus from TFTS to work on other creative projects, so I hope you treasure this chapter! -h

Seokjin fucked up. Right now, with everything so delicate, he should have known not to dive back into streaming. Not because of the awful energy last night, but because of his stupidity. When he stripped last night, he’d left his phone in his pants pocket. And in further stupidity, that pair of pants went through the wash this morning when he realized he had nothing clean to wear for work. 

He’d cradled the dead phone in his hands like it would have mercy on him and turn on. But it was too far gone. It hadn’t just been washed; it also went through the spin cycle. The screen was shattered, bits of glass echoing in the drum amongst a heavy thunk being the only thing that made him realize what he’d done. 

He didn’t have time to go get a replacement. Not with it being installation day for the new dishwasher in the restaurant. His phone would have to wait. He could wait. So long as he could get in contact with the delivery people on the phone in the manager’s office, he’d be fine. 

So he went in early, taking care of the next set of problems, one after another after another. The delivery people were late after taking the wrong turn, which meant the kitchen staff was handwashing all the dishes. That, plus the nice weather of spring seemed to have drawn more people in than usual. The restaurant was so busy, he barely saw you from open to when your shift ended. Whatever time that was. 

By the end of the day, as one of the part timers loaded the new dishwasher and peeled the protective film off the stainless steel front, everything seemed like it was finally in order. His father somehow found a fax machine on that cruise ship, which was boggling. Who was still sending faxes, much less on a cruise ship? And there was still a fax number associated with this place? 

Regardless, the contract work was finally settled and scheduled. No more stacking of appointments or missing payroll. He had gotten them back up on the cloud, and contacted the accounting service who luckily had stored everything from invoices to direct deposit information. Once he plugged everything back in, Seokjin realized things would be alright. 

He wanted to celebrate. Wanted to kick back with a beer and unwind from how stressful all this was. If he could make this transition smoother for his parents when they returned, leaving them with a much more efficient system and updated restaurant, he thought he could leave it behind a little easier and return to how things were before. 

A tightness squeezed his chest. What before would he be trying to return to? 

Would he go back to streaming more often? Is that how he wanted to keep paying his bills? In the time he’d been off, he’d felt like he was finally healing, finally good at something. Whether it was cooking or managing the restaurant’s problems, he had to give it to himself: he was a fair negotiator and probably not the worst manager that there ever was. 

Because he cared. When he worked in corporate, there were so many faceless names that he always delivered bad news to. No stories to anchor them to bodies. Just emails and phone calls. That doesn’t create much of a person to care about. 

But now, he knew each story, from one of his parents and why they decided to start a restaurant to the regular customers who always ordered the same thing to his employees. Every person was a person, and that made Seokjin care so much more than he’d ever thought he could. 

The idea of leaving that behind wrenched something in his chest. Did his parents know that the elderly white lady who came in and ordered mul naengmyeon even in the middle of winter did so because it was easier on her gums? Or that Mr. Lee was closing his vacuum repair shop because no one thought to repair vacuums anymore? The more Seokjin thought of all those familiar faces, the more he began to feel panicked. What would he do? Where would he go? 

What about you? Barely into the first year of your graduate program and already you had to take a break. Did your parents know this? 

Seokjin didn’t know much about this part of you, to be honest. He never wanted to push, though he noticed how you would talk around them and lead the conversation away from your family whenever you got the chance. Your parents were both still alive and married, he knew this. He knew you were an only child, that Wonwoo and you were childhood friends. 

But, did you have other friends? Now that he thought about it, he didn’t remember you ever mentioning anyone else that you spent time with. You weren’t from here, and that must have really tampered with the friendships you had back home. 

God, how had he been so clueless to not notice before? If you weren’t working or at school, you were streaming. You really didn’t take much time off from anything. And that was really sad. 

Especially because you were so great. You had the type of personality that his friends would love. He could see you and Namjoon talking about books. You had so many in that apartment, and while many of them were clearly romance novels, you had the classics too. 

You’d met Taehyung a few times when he came to mooch off of Seokjin for a free meal, and his puppy dog pout and awful jokes still drew laughter out of you. 

Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin. They’d like that you always put Seokjin in his place, never afraid to make fun of him or challenge him. 

And Yoongi. Yoongi would probably adore you the most. How gentle you were with others, yet protective of what you loved. How you were fighting to be the best version of yourself regardless of the challenges you faced. How you were thoughtful and filled the space with words that had a purpose, not just pointless chatter. You remembered the same faces in the restaurant as Seokjin, stepped in to help, to be part of a team. Those were things Yoongi always valued. 

You should meet them, he decided. He’d invite you to hang out with all of them in neutral territory. Let his friends see how great you were. And then you’d have friends here, in a place you could maybe learn to call home. 

Even if Seokjin was gone. 

His brother sent him the posting a few weeks ago. A major restaurant management company was looking for a financial consultant who would help develop new and repair existing restaurants’ financial strategy around the world. He’d sent in his resume without really thinking about it. And in the mess of today, he’d seen he received an email requesting an interview. 

Maybe Seokjin would leave Worldwide Handsome to go worldwide himself. He didn’t hate the idea. An excuse to leave streaming fully behind would be a nice end to things. 

What he hated, though, is that your time together was limited, and that job, if he was offered and took it, would shorten the window further. 

Once you started up with classes again, it would only be a matter of time. Summer would come. His parents would return. You’d drift apart further. 

Which is why he needed you to meet his friends. Needed to know that there was something he could do for you. 

He looked at the faded clock on the wall of the office. It was too late to go to the store and get a new phone. Hopefully no one had anything urgent to speak to him about. For the meantime, he knew his parents were resting on their cruise ship off Thailand? Italy? He couldn’t remember. His brother and sister-in-law and nephew were probably asleep now even though the sun still had left some lasting streaks of pink and purple in the sky. 

You were…well he didn’t quite know. Probably at home with your nose stuffed into a book. He could live with that. He could live with everyone being in the places he needed them to be. The world could turn to night once more without him being glued to his phone. 

Seokjin locked the doors of the restaurant. He watched the glow of street lights kick on. He’d get everything into place. Life goes on, right? 

Fuck Kim Seokjin. Fuck him and every stupid fucking man on planet Earth. How can he ghost someone he works with? Does he seriously just want you to quit?

You’d spent the following day waiting for an explanation. Seokjin is a man of many words when necessary. God knows you’ve heard him rant. So what was so goddamn hard about being upfront and honest? He spent all day running around in a frenzy, which you get, but he couldn’t even say hi? He couldn’t even text back with a “sorry I can’t make it”. 

That was two days ago. Your date was Friday. And you’ve gotten nothing in the form of a response. When you came to work today, he wasn’t there. You showed up early this morning to see if he was around so you could finally confront him, and sure enough, nothing.

Now, you’re trashed. All thanks to a “Happy Hour is Every Hour” A-frame outside of a gastropub near your apartment that makes their drinks strong and cheap and handed out bar nuts and a bottle of water the second you sat down. 

That was four drinks ago. Now, the word has a soft fuzzy glow to it, and if you’re not sitting here pissed off at Seokjin, you’re two seconds from calling him up and confessing how obsessed you are with him. And that also makes you want to cry. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been since you started drinking. What you do know is there’s chicken and beer being shuttled over to your table and the wait staff keep staring at you. 

“Thank you,” you slur as you reach for the piping hot rib meat before your server can even set the plate down. 

“Ah, no be care–”. But it’s already too late. The hot oil touches your fingertips and you jolt, throwing the fried food onto your table as you reach for your water, uncapping it and pouring it onto your hands, and consequently, the tabletop. 

You try to apologize, the words glooping together into some string of nonsense as the gossipy waitstaff veer over to the table, whipping white towels out of their aprons and wiping up your mess. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter again, but you know they can’t hear you, too busy tutting at you and pointing at the steam rising from your food. They don’t say it, but you can understand the tone: you should know better. 

You’ve now caught the attention of just about every other after-work Happy Hour goer, all flushed from the alcohol but more composed than you probably appear (and are). 

You resolve to try pulling yourself together, guzzling down the remainder of your water and taking occasional sips of beer between bites of juicy chicken. Though, how much worse can having a big fat crush on your boss–who is also a gay camboy yet straight– be? Surely the people who run this place have seen worse. 

Shit, you’ve seen worse and Seokjin’s family restaurant isn’t even a major hub for after work drunkards! One time a woman in six inch stripper heels and a Tina Turner wig came in asking you if you’d found a loose pig. You stood there speechless as she called for him. And what’s stranger is that it wasn’t even a pig. It was a man on a leash with the word “P.I.G.” written on his shirt. On the back, the shirt said “Pussy is God”. 

Therefore, overhearing your drunken blubbering is, in your opinion, the least chaotic thing that can happen to these people tonight. 

You pop a pickled radish into your mouth as you take in the crowd around you as they finally turn away and go back to the bubbles they live in. None of these people know what you’ve gone through the last few days. How the sharp sting of rejection paints every decision you make with a shade of insecurity. 

You want to talk to him about it. You want to sit in your apartment with him and cry over how he treated you. You want him to apologize for being an asshole and prove he’s not just like other guys. 

But there’s a sinking fear that he really is this way. That these behaviors are intentional, and you are actually wrong about him. 

And how fucking dare he if that’s intential. What a classless and petty thing to do. Someone should put him in his place. Maybe you should put him in his place. 

With that stroke of genius, you dial his phone, impatiently sighing as you are immediately redirected to the voicemail. The beep instructing you to leave a message pours you a shot of confidence. 

“Hey, it’s me…..Y/N. Listen, you can’t just keep ignoring me. How stupid and cruel of you to just agree to go out with me and then ghost me afterward and at work? Fuck you dude. Seriously, have some fucking class. Honestly, how hard is it to say no? ‘Oh sorry, Y/N I can’t’ is all I needed.” You drop your voice to mimic his. 

“Seriously, we work together. I really thought you would be different about other guys and have some decency to just be honest. And maybe that’s what’s missing here is honesty! So let me just be honest. I know you are a camboy. And at first it was weird yeah but like…I don’t care. Because I liked you. And you liked me right? Well, maybe not. I guess I was wrong. God, alllllll you men are the fucking saaaaaame. And you keep getting away with this shit! But I’m done! I’m so done with it all! You know what? Don’t bother getting back to me. I quit!” 

You hang up, satisfied, and dig into a chicken wing. As you suck the meat from the bone, you see a tattooed hand tap the table. 

“What,” you ask, annoyed. You really don’t have it in you today to deal with some douche bag hitting on you. When you look up, you see a guy in a black baggy T-shirt and jeans. His big doe eyes and rounded nose look down at you with a glint of sympathy. 

“Uh, Y/N?” He says softly. 

You squint at him, trying to place him in the sea of people you know. Is he one of your classmates? Or does he know you from streaming? He’s not a regular at the restaurant is he? He doesn’t register as familiar at all. You open your mouth to speak, but before you get the words out, he’s talking again at rapid speed.

“Sorry! I don’t want to bother you. Um, you don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Seokjin’s.”

A hot prickle of anger and embarrassment punches your gut. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. Uh, I don’t want to bother you, but I noticed you were really upset and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He glances over at the empty glasses on the table. 

“I’m fine,” you say reflexively. “Just been having a bad weekend.”

“Ah,” the stranger says, furrowing his eyebrow. “I can understand that. Do you uh…do you want to talk about it?” 

He shifts onto his heels, rocking back and forth slightly. It makes you feel dizzy just looking at him. 

“No, no I’m good.” 

“Got it, sorry. I know that might be weird. Just thought maybe you’d need somebody to talk to.” 

“And what gives you that impression? A random stranger who is disrupting my night sure seems to know so much about me for no particular reason.” 

“Oh, I have a reason. Hyung–uh, Seokjin�� he means a lot to me.”

You wait for him to go on, but instead he bites at a piercing on his lip. 

“I don’t really see how that’s relevant.” 

“Ah, yeah. Sorry. Um, I…you know what? Never mind. So, listen. My uh, my friend is the owner of this restaurant. And they don’t want other people to have a bad experience here.” 

You blink at him. “That’s..great?” What does this guy want from you? Why is he sharing this? 

“It is! And so um…” he holds up a take out container. “He wanted me to bring you this.”

“Okay? I’m not finished yet, though. I was going to finish this beer first.” 

He nods and you see a blush color his cheeks. “Sure, but you see, some people have complained. And he just. He would like it if you finished your food at home instead.” 

An awful silence rings out between you and you glance around. Other patrons of the restaurant are glaring at you. From behind the checkout counter, you can see a very tall man standing with his arms crossed, wearing a pained expression. He, too, is blushing. 

You glance back at the doe-eyed man. “He…you are kicking me out?” 

His eyes go wide and he starts waving his hands in front of him. “Ah, um! No, no one is kicking you out! Mingyu is a puppy, he means no harm. He just…last week someone stole all the change in the drawer and now things are really tight for him and he can’t afford to lose business.”

Mingyu, you now know he’s named, drops his head into his hands and sighs. 

“Got it,” you say through gritted teeth. Jesus, can today get any worse? You stand up, and suddenly the world is tipping sideways and being pulled out from under you. 

“Whoa, whoa!” The stranger says. You close your eyes, ready to hit the tile floor. But it never happens. Instead, the weight of your back is being held by something sturdy, and your wrist on your right arm is clamped onto tightly. You open your eyes and see him beaming down at you, his eyes wide. “Careful there.” 

“JK!” Someone calls out. “You know where she lives?”

“Nah and Hyung isn’t answering whenever I try calling him,” the stranger shouts back. Your right ear is ringing, sensitive to the loud noise. 

“SHH! God, right in my ear! Jesus! I’m fine. I can get myself home! I’m not some weak damsel in distress.” You slap his hands away and find your footing on the sticky floor. 

JK, you assume, holds his hands up in surrender. “Noona, I’m not saying you are. But you are really drunk, and I can’t let you leave when you can’t even walk.” 

You snort. “So I need to leave but I can’t? What kind of riddle is this for me to solve? Are you a troll that lives under a bridge? I can’t leave until I solve your riddles three?” 

He chuckles. “No, more that I am going to take you home. Here, get your food in this, I’ll get my keys.”  

“Don’t bother,” you say, scooping the still-warm food into the container. A part of you is mourning how soggy this is going to be later. 

“Please, Y/N don’t fight me on this,” JK says softly. 

“I’m not,” you insist. 

“Then let me drive you home.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Then why–”

“Because I live like two blocks that way.” You point. 

His tight jaw slackens as he follows your hand, peering out toward the direction of your place.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, and scoop up the container, glancing down at the empty drinks. In a last minute decision, you lift up your glass of beer and chug the rest of it down. 

JK sighs and shakes his head when you deposit the empty glass into the nest of the others. “Was that really necessary?” 

“Yes,” you reply, walking toward the cash register. JK walks through the swinging kitchen doors, you assume to grab his keys. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Mingyu says, waving his hand. 

What? No way. You try to do the mental math, but at this point, you’ve lost count of how much anything costs. One thing you know: this meal wasn’t cheap. 

“No! No, I want to pay. I’m sorry I was so disruptive. Please let me–.”

JK reappears, carrying a leather jacket, backpack, and motorcycle helmet. “Ah, Noona, don’t worry about it. I already paid.” 

He what? Who the hell is this guy? 

“Oh,” you say awkwardly, glancing up at Mingyu. “Well..thanks.” 

“Yeah. Uh, you’re welcome. Get home safe. Maybe drink some water when you get there.” He steps away from the counter and grabs a gray plastic bin, shuffling over to your table to bus it. 

“Ready?” JK asks and you nod, following him out the door. 

“Are we really going to take your motorcycle a few blocks?” 

He laughs. “Why? Are you scared?”

Yes. “No. Just feels like a waste of gas.” 

“Sure. But I also was probably going to go to Seo-somewhere after this so it would make sense to take it. But if you’re nervous about it, we can walk.” 

“I’m not nervous. It’s just a waste of gas.” 

“Okay, Y/N.”

“Okay, JK,” you mock. He begins walking along the sidewalk in the general direction of your place and pauses at a shiny black Harley, scooping up a second helmet from the seat. 

“That’s not my name.” 

“Then what is your name?”

“Jungkook.” 

He looks at you and smiles, holding out the helmet he had in the restaurant. You stare at it, not making a move to grab it. 

“No? Well, I guess we’ll walk.” 

You’re not sure why you grab the helmet but do. You’ve never been on a motorcycle; they have always terrified you how they weave through traffic and tight alleyways, zip through intersections and rev themselves at lights in some grand show of ego. But Jungkook doesn’t look like any of the biker dudes you’ve seen with long beards and bandanas. He looks almost like an innocent kid. But with tattoos and piercings. 

His smile widens as you scoop up the helmet and plop it onto your head, letting Jungkook adjust the chin strap’s tightness. 

“Are you sure I’ll fit on this?” You ask, eying the incredibly small passenger “seat” off the back of the bike. Who even fits on these? Children riding illegally? 

“Huh?” He looks between you and the bike, scanning your body up and down as he tries to do math. 

“Yeah,” he decides and nods. “Yeah I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” 

So you hoist yourself onto it, trying not to tip the heavy machine over in your jolt. Jungkook clips his helmet on and hands you his backpack. “I’ll need you to wear this though. Otherwise it’ll squish you.” 

You loop the straps over your arms and reposition yourself. Jungkook easily navigates his leg over to the other side, using his left food as a grounding while he holds the bike up. 

“Okay, let’s go!” He says enthusiastically and you chuckle before realizing he has no idea where you’re going. 

“Oh, uh you’re going to head that way for about three blocks. Then turn right.” 

He nods and then inserts the key into the ignition, turning it on. Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his thin waist, and as you whip down the main road toward your apartment, the chill of the spring air on breezing across your arms feels a little bit like freedom.  

When you arrive, you do the polite thing and invite Jungkook in to prove that you are not so inebriated that you’ll aspirate and die in your apartment. You even drink an extra glass of water to ensure he believes you when you say you’re fine. You’re mostly tired now, the exhaustion of the week and Seokjin’s rejection heavy on your body. 

“Well, thanks,” you say, signaling it is time for Jungkook to leave. 

“You’re welcome. And Noona, I’m sorry about Mingyu, he really didn’t mean any harm.” 

“I understand, I was kind of a lot.” You say, the haze of the restaurant fading into the night. All the things you were mad about are starting to seem quite immature. You pause, realizing something. 

“God damnit! I left my chicken there!” 

Jungkook laughs and shrugs. “Well, it’s a good thing I know the owner. I can always get you a fresh order if you want it?” 

You mull it over for a second before shaking your head. “It’s fine. I probably don’t need it anyway. It was just comfort food during a bad week.” 

“You mentioned you were having a hard time. I hope you feel a little bit more at ease now that you ate and got more water into you.” 

You sigh. “No, not really. I am starting to feel a little stupid for the phone call I had earlier.” 

“Oh yeah, I overheard a bit. So what was that all about? Mad at a friend or something?” 

“Yeah,” you say and Jungkook’s smirk drops. 

“Hyung? What did he do?”

“It’s…it’s not a big deal really. He just…we were supposed to…hang out the other night, and he blew me off.” 

“Oh, that’s not really like him. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Not your fault,” you say, smiling up at Jungkook.

A beat passes and Jungkook sniffs, glancing around at your place. “So, about Seokjin-hyung.” 

You raise an eyebrow in question. Where exactly is this going? When you don’t say anything, Jungkook looks over at you. 

“Well, h-he’s not a bad guy. Really. I hope you know that.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask. 

“Doing what?” 

“Building a case for him. All your friends really. Trying to mediate on their behalf.” 

Jungkook glances down and sighs. “I don’t know. But we aren’t talking about me right now.” 

“Are we even talking about anything? We’re strangers.” 

“Have you considered that people become friends instead of strangers by sharing things about themselves?”

You wince. “I don’t like you.” 

Jungkook splits into laughter and you can’t help but chuckle in response. He’s charming, but you don’t need him to know that. 

“Fair enough. I’m just saying, Seokjin he…he’s really a good guy. Practically raised me. Although sometimes I think I’m more mature than he is. But he’s had a rough time lately with all the stuff happening with the restaurant and his family coming back soon. I think he’s just not entirely sure who he is, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.” 

You sigh, defeated. 

“Take care, Y/N. I hope to see you around.” Jungkook walks toward the door, turning the knob. 

“Hey, wait,” you say. You feel a little guilty as you sober up. You’ve been bratty all night to the poor kid; you could cut him some slack. 

“Thanks for helping me out tonight,” you say sheepishly. 

“Anytime. Really. Although maybe we can avoid making this a habit. I’d like to meet you again when you aren’t drunkenly shouting at my hyung over the phone.” Jungkook picks up his spare helmet off the floor and waves, and then slides through the door and into the dark. 

For a few minutes you stand there, trying to balance the scales of the weekend, from the ghosting to the drunken calls to running into one of Seokjin’s closest friends who drove you home on the back of his Harley. Your head feels like it’s spinning. 

What are you supposed to do about any of this? You’re not sure. Jungkook told you that he was basically raised by his friend, and that touches something really soft within you. You’re not surprised. Look at how good of a mentor he’s been to you in the kitchen staff? It’s not common for bosses to take time out of their schedule to train you, especially before the place even opens. 

But that’s Seokjin’s dedication. He cares. And that’s also why this rejection hurts. Because you know that if he’s being this way to you, it can only mean that you did some unknown thing that has driven him away from you. And it has to be big enough for him to ignore you all day? 

What if he’s seeing someone? What if he’s trying to create distance with you? Your head spins with all the ideas and you need any details. Anything. 

You practically run to your computer, typing in Worldwide Handsome’s website address and searching the performer tab. You don’t have to scroll long. He’s one of the top streamers of the year, and you see that he has a stream that happened Friday night on his replay list, but it’s blocked behind a paywall. Did that asshole seriously stream on Friday instead of hanging out with you?

You pause for approximately two seconds before you begin typing your credit card information in. You need to be sure. In a matter of seconds, all of Seokjin is everywhere; there are photos of him, clothed and naked. Some are crystal clear in quality, looking almost professionally taken, every ridge of his hard cock portrayed through pixels. You feel heat creep into your chest and cheeks, almost like you’ve just taken three shots of vodka. 

As it turns out, the alcohol’s effects paired with Seokjin’s own hotness have you pulling the fabric of your shirt away to try and get some proper air. After a moment, you decide you’re done wrestling with it and strip it off. It’s your apartment, you have a right to walk around topless if you want. And pantless. You feel the cool air wick away some of the heat from the back of your knees as you slide the pants down. Much better. You probably smelled like fried chicken anyway. 

You look back at the screen, your entire monitor displaying an HD photo of Seokjin in the middle of an orgasm, his neck thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing as he squeezes the head of his cock. His hands and stomach are messy with a milky, somewhat translucent load of cum. You squirm a little in your seat, feeling the heat that was once flushing your body send a sharp flicker of desire to your core. What is it you’re supposed to be doing? 

You blink a few times at the screen before exiting out of the photo gallery and heading into the video playlists. Ah, you remember when you see the most recent stream. Research. Because he’s avoiding you. A sharper, more painful throb stabs through your chest, carrything with it the sting of anxiety.

You need to know how you can fix this. You take a deep breath and load in the video. 

“Hi Everyone,” Seokjin says, a lazy wave fanning into the shot. “It’s been a while.” You study his face, he seems sad and upset. Is this really the same Seokjin you saw at work two days ago? He seemed a little stressed, sure, but not like this. 

Seokjin greets some of the names of people who must have responded to his chat. After a few minutes, he smirks. “I needed this. I missed you guys, too.”

Has he not been regularly streaming? You never really thought to look again after you stumbled upon him a few months ago. Okay, that’s a lie. You’ve definitely thought to check on him at least a hundred times, but you promised yourself that you wouldn’t peek. He deserves privacy. 

But now as you’re learning, he hasn’t been consistently online in months. Where has he been? Have you really been taking up that much of his time with your own streams? Your chest follows the sharp pain up to your throat, where guilt nestles itself in. 

He’s seeing someone. He’s got to be. Pulling away from streaming makes all the more sense if he’s dating someone. All that horny, intimate energy has to be directed somewhere? It only makes sense that he would direct it onto someone. 

Jealousy sours your stomach. Maybe he realized that you were intending for this to be a date on Friday and didn’t know how to let you down. So he just did this instead? Why does none of this make sense? 

Seokjin has a few more conversations in the next few minutes, but nothing really stands out. He seems guarded. Sheesh, how lovesick is this guy?

As he wraps up his conversations, you see his face fall in between words as he reads the screen that is determining what type of toy he has to use. Eventually, it is decided upon a vibrating cock ring, and you watch curiously as he places the device down his shaft and balls, snuggly resting at the base. As people donate, the ring vibrates. 

You don’t feel like this is going to give you what you need. It’s certainly hot to watch at first, but it also isn’t helping you understand him better. Even still, you don’t click away, and for the next hour, you watch the recording, his tired eyes becoming all the more lifeless as he approaches his orgasm. Honestly, it feels a bit sad. Not long after he cums, he ends the stream. 

This is not like the one you’ve seen before. In that stream he was passionate, domineering, and direct. Now, you’re not even entirely sure if he was turned on. You begin cycling through older streams, trying to find a date of when all this started. 

How long has he been seeing her? How come you were too stupid to realize it before? You study each video for clues, looking for moments when he might mention something that shows around the time he started closing off to his audience. Nothing promising. 

Until this one, one where he’s softer than usual, more submissive. He goes soft a few times even in this stream, despite the fact that he’s engaging with his audience, he’s giving them everything they could ever want. You watch as he grinds down on a pink dildo, gasping for air, little moans popping out of his chest. 

If you didn’t know him as well as you thought you do, you might believe it. You’ve watched enough of his videos now (including the one you caught live), to see how Seokjin looks when he’s turned on versus when he’s performing as Jin. 

A little buzz comes over the speaker and Seokjin’s eyes look past the camera, presumably toward the source of the sound. Then, like a switch, something happens, and he grows harder in his jerking hand, a flush creeping up onto his chest, his rhythm changing to form a steadier, lighter grind on the toy. But what lets you know that he’s truly, really turned on, is that his moans are not high pitched at all. They’re deep. Fuck. 

“Fuck,” he mimics, a low chuckle coming out of his chest. He’s closed his eyes, more invested in his fantasy. 

Shit, this is getting hot. You squirm a bit in your seat again, trying to focus. You’re looking for clues, remember?

“Yes, yes, that’s it. Right there,” Seokjin groans. You rasp a breath, which has become more erratic as the head of his cock becomes deeper in its blush. You can’t help it. This is what he does, how he affects you. He could be completely clothed or fully naked in this moment, and you would still be just as wet as he’s making you from using that voice. You reach down between your legs, trapping your hand in between to relieve some of the pressure. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” 

What? 

No. There’s no absolutely no way. You must be imagining it. Your stomach does a little flip out of hope anyway. 

“Mmm, I’m close. Fuck!” He changes the tactic for stroking himself, now flicking his wrist and squeezing his tip. You can see the bead of precum that is leaking out. 

You must still be so drunk that you’re running away with your fantasies. No. 

“Y/N,” he says again, clearer. And then, Seokjin orgasms, lifting his hips so his cock can thrust into his hand, droplets of cum spurting from the tip, dappling his thighs and stomach.

“Oh my god,” you say as the information all starts to click into place. “Oh shit.”

“Hyung, open up!” 

Seokjin rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what the hell was going on. What time was it? When he glances at the clock in his dark room, it says 1:43AM. Which is weird, because didn’t he go to bed last night after the sun came up? Maybe his clock was wrong and it meant 1:43PM instead of AM. 

But that was the least of his worries. Instead, he was heading toward the door, where one of his dongsaengs was beating on his door like he was intent on breaking it down. 

He pulled it open, and found Jungkook standing in front of him, his hair sticking out in weird places. He looked like he just had sex. 

“What are you doing here, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook’s eyes looked anxious and he nodded. “Can I come in?” 

Seokjin moved away from the door frame, holding out an arm to let his friend in. “Is everything okay?” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? I’ve been trying to call you all day and your phone is off.” Jungkook said as he stepped into the apartment and unlaced his boots. 

“Ah, that. It went through the wash this morning. I think I’ll leave here soon to go get my new one.”

“Are there phone stores open this late?” Jungkook asked, furrowing his eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that it’s almost two o’clock in the morning on a Monday. I don’t think someone is going to be open to sell you a new phone.”

“It’s not Monday, it’s Sunday.”

“I think I know the seven days of the week, hyung,” Jungkook scoffed and pulled out his phone, showing the display to Seokjin. He was right. It was Monday. 

“Holy shit. That means I slept through my entire Sunday! I was supposed to get a new phone today!” 

“Well, I guess your body was in sleep debt or something and you needed the rest. Anyway, as much as I love being Father Time and all, that’s not why I came here. I need to tell you something.”

He couldn’t help it, but as he heard his friend speak, Seokjin’s pulse increased. Nothing ever came from that sentence. But before he could even begin to think about what life altering event happened that would change him and Jungkook’s friendship forever, the youngest was already walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

Jungkook unscrewed the cap and took a long chug. “Sorry, thirsty. It’s been a long night. Listen, I was just at Y/N’s.”

Of all the things Seokjin was anticipating Jungkook to say, that wasn’t it. His stomach dropped as he further took in the rumpled appearance of his friend. 

“Wh-what? You were hanging out at her house at 1 in the morning? H-how did this happen? I didn’t even know you guys knew each other.”

Jungkook blinked at his friend for a moment, realization dawning on him. “Oh, no, nothing like…intimate happened hyung! I met her tonight. I was at Mingyu’s and she was there!” 

“Well that makes me feel so much better now!” 

“What? You don’t think I would sleep with her, do you?”

“Well you really weren’t holding much back a few months ago when you saw her streaming!” 

“I…okay so she’s really pretty and I did give her a ride on my bike back to her place but that’s the most we touched! I swear!”  

The sickness of jealousy pulled at his stomach.

“Hyung,” Jungkook said lightly. “I would never betray you like that. You’ve been interested in Y/N for a long time. And I know that.” 

He was right. And Seokjin knew that, too. He took a deep breath. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Jungkook smiled softly, and then sighed. “I just want you to be happy, hyung. Which is why I came over here right after I dropped her off. She was trashed. Mingyu kicked her out, and you know he’s too chicken shit to ever kick anyone out. But she was on the phone yelling about something and I recognized her. She had drunk herself under the table and was trying to finish a 4-person platter of chicken by herself. 

“And that’s not all, either. Uh, when I started talking to her, I learned what she was really upset about. Hyung, why did you blow her off about your date?”

“What? We didn’t have a date planned.” 

“Are you sure? Because I heard her leave you a voicemail saying that if you didn’t want to go out with her, you should have said so instead of blowing her off two nights ago and that you have ghosted her.” 

Seokjin furrowed his brow. It didn’t sound like you to behave so erratically. Did you get that drunk that you were thinking of things that never happened? When was it that you’d even spoken last?

He retraced the past three days, from him washing his phone this morning…or yesterday morning to work, to the Worldwide Handsome letter, to two days ago when his father began the chaos by sending over half the forms needed. That full day of sleep really was throwing him off. He’d talked to you that morning, hadn’t he? 

About going to that restaurant you’d wanted to try. He’d gotten a late reservation. That he completely forgot about because of everything else. 

“Fuck,” Seokjin said, running his fingers through his hair. 

“What? Oh, hyung, Don’t tell me it is true.” 

“I–it completely slipped my mind. I was supposed to take her out to dinner. It was going to be maybe our first step toward dating. God, I didn’t mean to forget! I was just so overwhelmed with everything that when the time came I was streaming instead.”

“Well, I’m not sure how she’s going to really be understanding about you spending your Friday night jacking off for a couple hundred people for cash instead of taking her out.”

“She doesn’t know I stream.”

Jungkook coughed on the water he had just swished into his mouth. 

“What? Seokjin-hyung, why not? How has it not come up in the last few months of you helping her with her stream?”

“I don’t know! Because she somehow sees the qualities I possess while streaming in me as the manager. And besides, I am the manager. Which means I’m her boss and talking about me ‘jacking off for money’ as you choose to call it is inappropriate for a work environment!” 

“Are you having conversations about this in the work environment?”

“No, of course not!” Seokjin said. “What kind of manager do you think I am?”

“That’s not the point,” Jungkook said. He sighed. “The point is if you aren’t having those kinds of conversations at work, then why are you so bent out of shape to not tell her? And also, you won’t be her manager for much longer.” 

Jungkook had a point. “Look,” he said. “I fucked up. I forgot to take her out, and now I need to apologize or something.”

“She was really upset,” the youngest said, eyes flickering a bit in the dim kitchen light. “Like, I think she really really likes you.”

“How do you know that?” His friend had always been perceptive, but Jungkook was also sometimes a little naive. 

“Well, when I finally convinced her to leave and let me give her a ride home, she seemed really responsive to what I told her.” 

“What did you tell her?”

“To cut you some slack. That you probably didn’t mean to blow her off. That you care a lot about everyone and everything and have been going through some stuff.” His eyes softened, and he carded his tattooed hand through his overgrown hair. 

Seokjin felt his chest tighten. Jungkook had always been so good to him. It didn’t matter that he was the youngest; his heart and eyes were always big with love and wonder, ready to receive all the love in the world and give it all back tenfold. 

“Thanks, Jungkook-ah. That means a lot.”

Jungkook hummed thoughtfully, chewing on his lip ring. “I just want to see you happy.”

“I know. God, I know. And I like her so much. She’s so funny and sweet and beautiful. Sometimes I’ll come over to her place and we will just sit quietly around each other not talking. And then sometimes we talk for hours about everything. I have really started to…maybe fall for her.”

“Oh, hyung, have you told her any of that?”

“No, I…I thought it might slip out of me soon enough. And I guess it did, just she’s not here to actually hear it.” 

“I think you should start there and tell her how you feel in your apology. Otherwise what else are you going to do? Be miserable?”

Seokjin thought for a minute about how agonizing the last few days must’ve been for you. You’d been around him at work and he was too busy to talk. You not getting a response from him for the last few days was probably incredibly confusing and he didn’t know if he could wait until later this week when your shifts aligned to talk to you. 

He walked Jungkook over toward the door, grabbing his car keys off the hook near the entry. 

“Actually, I’m going to go over there. And then I’m going to beg for mercy.” 

You keep replaying those two parts over. Watching closely as Seokjin calls to you from the edge of arousal before tipping over into pure bliss. For now, you have it paused on the moment right before he says your name again and cums. 

He wants you. Or he did at some time. Which means it could very well still be true. Seokjin masturbates to you. He fantasizes about you. You turn him on as much as he turns you on. The vibrator you have suctioning your clitoris buzzes deeper as it scoots over the bud, making a lower groan when it finds a part of you that’s more wet than the rest. 

“Shit,” you say as you feel yourself getting closer to cumming. You pluck at your nipple with your free hand, continuing to move the shoved bra cup out of the way so you can enjoy the prickle of desire pulling toward the surface of your skin. 

You clench around nothing as you watch Seokjin pump his thick cock with one hand. You’re aching to be filled, but you also are too far gone now to move. You will have to orgasm this way,

getting at least some relief before the next. You have time now, the haze of alcohol fading from your bloodstream. It’s almost as if becoming horny made you sober up faster. 

You adjust the settings on the vibrator, upping the intensity. 

So close. You’re almost there. All you need is–

“Y/N?” You hear Seokjin call from somewhere. Your eyes flit to the screen, expecting to see the video unpaused. But that Seokjin is frozen in time. 

A knock echoes through your apartment.

Oh god, Seokjin is here? Right now? 

You quickly flip off the vibrator, chucking it to the floor in your pile of sweaty clothes from earlier. You exit out of the screen, noting that it’s almost 2:30 in the morning. What is he doing here so late? 

You adjust your panties back into place and pull your bra back over your breasts. In a panic, you throw the first thing you see long enough to cover you up and head to the door. 

When you open it, Seokjin is real and standing right in front of you, face flushed and panting. 

“What are you doing here?” You whisper-shout. Now is not the time you want to disturb your neighbors. 

“Please, can I come in?” Seokjin asks urgently, and you nod. 

He steps through the door, closing it behind him carefully. 

“I-I fucked up.” He says. 

You wait for him to finish. He doesn’t. 

“Oh, um, with what?” Playing nonchalant doesn’t serve you. 

“With what? With you. And I’m sorry. Y/N I completely forgot about our date. I honestly have been so overwhelmed with all the new things happening at the restaurant that it slipped my mind. And I haven’t had a phone the last few days, so I haven’t been able to text you.” 

So that explained his ghosting. And him streaming. 

“Oh.” 

“I just. I’m going to come out and say it. I like you. A lot, Y/N. And I do want to take you out to dinner. And I’m also so sorry for not communicating with you. A lot’s happened in the last few days. But I need you to know that I’m sorry.” 

Seokjin looks at you, eyes shimmering, a little wet like he might cry. Your heart squeezes in your chest. 

“You like me?” 

“Yes, I thought it was obvious.” 

“What do you mean you thought it was obvious? You’ve done nothing that would make me think that!” 

Seokjin blushes. “I-I’m sorry. I have been so nervous for a long time that I swore I wouldn’t make the first move until you did. And I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, I promise you I’ll get over it. But I like you.” 

Seokjin likes you. 

Your brain immediately wants to refute it. No, you couldn’t possibly like me. You’ve mistaken me for someone else. Someone else with my name. Not me. 

“I…”

Ask if he has a fever, if he’s drunk. There’s just no way he could be serious about this. Is this a joke? Please don’t let this be a joke. 

“Oh, uh. God I’m such an ass, I should’ve known. Never mind. I…I should maybe go.” He looks you up and down, and you see his cheeks go beet red. Your eyes follow his gaze down to your ensemble.

Oh, that’s right. You’re standing in front of him wearing some ratty panties and a bra…and his shirt. 

Seokjin’s eyes go wide, and he casts his gaze away. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“No! No, it's fine! You can look!” You say quickly. “I mean, no, don’t go. I…I’m sorry I just am so not good at this and am having a hard time processing it. You like me. Me. Right?”

He nods, eyes still not looking your way. 

“Okay. Okay. Great. This is good! Um, fuck. I like you too. Sorry, I maybe should have led with that.” 

His head snaps in your direction, eyes now fixed completely on yours. “You do?” 

“I thought it was obvious,” you say, repeating his own words back to him. A huge smile blooms on his face. 

He closes the distance between the two of you, pulling your arms you were using to shield yourself for a bit of decency away from your body. You happily concede, wrapping them around him for a tight squeeze. 

He feels like home. There’s no other way to describe it. Security, safety, as if he fits in with the mismatched shelves in the living room. His scent floods into your nose, and you revel in it. It’s long since left his shirt you now wear, and something about it embedding into your skin has you sighing in relief. 

You both stand there for what feels like forever and also not long enough. His fingers gently caress the length of your spine. 

“Y/N?” he asks quietly. 

“Mm?” You force yourself to let go enough to look up at him. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking?”

“I feel like we probably should have asked each other the first time it happened.”

“Yeah…you’re right.”

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s more patient than anything else. 

“So is that a yes?” he asks lightly, a tiny bit desperate and you laugh, looking back into his deep brown eyes. 

“Yes,” you say. 

Seokjin moves slowly, carefully, almost like every single move he makes is marked with thought and consideration. He lifts your chin with his index finger, rubbing his thumb across your upper lip tenderly. Then, lightly, his hand expands along the length of your cheek, guiding you closer to him. On instinct, you close your eyes. When you feel his lips touch yours, you’re unable to get over how silky and soft they feel. Has this man never experienced chapped lips once in his life? 

You think to tease him, to pull away and ask, but then he’s parting your lips with his, the taste of him enveloping you as his tongue moves into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten how good he tastes. 

You lean deeper into him, letting your exposed stomach collide with the fabric of his pants, your breasts resting along his ribs. Your hands wander along the expanse of his strong, broad back.

When you nip the bottom of his lip with your teeth, you hear him gasp a little bit. 

He pulls back, his eyes dark, lips a little red and swollen. 

“Don’t start something you’re not going to finish,” he warns.

You cock an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He chuckles softly and drops his hand from your cheek, stepping away. He not-so-subtly adjusts himself in his pants. The air feels cold between you, and like a magnet, you move to close the distance again, craving more of him. 

Seokjin raises his eyebrows in surprise, but he doesn’t dismiss you, instead leaning down as you cup your palm around his neck, and you begin to kiss him again, only this time you venture downward, leaving little pecks along his jawline. As you reach his neck, you test the waters again, sucking the skin between your lips. He moans. 

“Fuck, Y/N, what are you doing?” 

You know the question is rhetorical, but you decide to give him a response anyway, licking along his neck and swirling your tongue in his collarbone. 

God, you can’t believe any of this is real, that he’s real, but you refuse to let the disbelief ruin this moment for you. Instead, you allow your other arm to start shifting down his chest, resting playfully at the waistband of his pants. 

Suddenly, Seokjin rips your hands away from him, and before you can even question what’s wrong, you’re being scooped up and carried across your apartment before being tossed onto your bed. 

“What did I tell you?” he says, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Mmm, not sure.” This game is getting to be a little too fun. 

“Bad girl,” he mutters and you feel a thrilling rush of desire back to your center. You’ve been wet because of him for so long tonight, and still no relief. But with him here, what more can you really ask for?

You grin, going to move back toward him, to tease his chest this time when you find you’re landed flat on your back with your arms pinned above your head. 

He clicks his tongue. “Nuh uh. Only good girls get to touch.”

Heat, so much heat in your body. Seokjin is resting slightly over your hips. If you angle yourself just right, you might be able to relieve some of the pressure. You buck up, but to no avail. He already saw that move coming and has created distance between you two. 

“Ugh,” you cry in annoyance, but Seokjin laughs. 

“I promise it won’t be so bad, princess.We do need to take a step back anyway. I need to know more about how you’re feeling about this. What you want. And if you keep doing that I’m going to fuck you on this bed right now and will not be able to control myself.”

You gasp at the response, still squirming under him. After a moment of locking eyes with him in the silence, you can’t take much more. 

“Please,” you beg, but over what exactly? You aren’t sure. 

Seokjin knows, though. Somehow he knows exactly what you mean by this. 

“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you need.” Something in that sentence is so reassuring and you force yourself to relax a bit under his hold. 

He smirks. “Okay. But first, we need to talk.” 

You nod in agreement, and Seokjin releases your wrists, instead tracing his fingers down your arms, past your armpits and over the swell of your breasts. He hums thoughtfully, but continues his exploration down your sides and hips. 

“First of all, what do you want from this?” He gestures between the two of you. 

God, what if you are honest and it isn’t what he wants? You’re about to say whatever you want but as you study his face, you can see that Seokjin is also nervous. His hand is shaking slightly. You reach up and lace your fingers in his. 

“I don’t know what to call it, really. But I want to do this. To spend time with you away from all the everything that can be reality. I want to explore things together. To learn more about you. To build our own world that feels nice to walk around in. It always has felt kind of like we step into something just for us when we are alone. I like when you come over and sit on my couch and do nothing. I want more of that. And,” you guide his hand down unlacing it just as you place his hand over your breast. “I want you to touch me. Especially like this.” 

He keeps his hand still but does not remove it. 

“Can you…tell me what you want?” You feel somewhat embarrassed to ask, despite the fact that he just asked you the same thing. 

“Mmm,” he hums. He begins exploring the silkiness of the bra with his fingertips. You can feel the skimming of them over your nipples. It’s not enough to make them hard, but the promise of it makes you shiver, and that does. His fingers work along the band of the bra, a few of them snaking their way under it and touching the tender flesh on the side. Fuck, he’s torturing you. 

“I think I like the sound of our own little world,” he finally says. “It would be nice to feel a bit more…free.” As Seokjin finishes his sentence, you feel his fingers slink forward, brushing underneath the cup of your bra and lightly plucking at your left nipple. 

You inhale sharply, glancing up from where his fingers roam to his face, which hosts a sexy, lazy smirk. But his eyes are a different story, honed in on you like you’re some kind of prey he’s hunting. 

“Can I take off your bra, princess?” he asks. Fuck, there he goes again with that pet name. 

You nod, but Seokjin shakes his head, clicking his tongue. 

“We are going to need to work on you using your words, aren’t we?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, one without any bite because Seokjin still moves to the clasp on your back, unhooking your bra. Which maybe was a bad move, because you’re still in his shirt, and the straps are beginning to pull away from your shoulders without the weight of your boobs to fix them into place. 

But Seokjin doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looks even more aroused somehow, exhaling through his nose heavily when your breasts drop out from their cups with a little jiggle. You move to begin taking the rest of your clothes off, but he’s already beating you to it, gently slipping his (or now your) shirt away from your shoulders, his hand supporting each arm as he peels away your layers carefully, like he’s opening a Christmas present and wants to preserve the paper. 

It’s when he’s chucked your bra and shirt to the other end of the room that he finally looks at you: chest, stomach, and all. 

“Fuck,” he groans and he leans back, trying to shift his very obvious erection around in his slacks with no success. “So beautiful.” 

Your eyes are fixed on him as he pushes down on his cock with his palm. You know what it looks like, how big it is, but that’s just on a screen, where the size of everything can be hard to compare. 

“Seokjin,” you say breathlessly, and his eyes snap away from your breasts as you lean forward and place your hand on his thigh. 

His breath is just as erratic. God, both of you need to get it together. He looks at you, trying to read your expression with his own concern. 

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, and the wrinkle between his eyebrows softens. “But can I touch you? Please?” 

You’re whispering. Like what you’re doing is some secret. And maybe it is. You hope it’s not, but only time will tell. Seokjin reaches to the hand that you’ve rested on his thigh and moves it up to the heat of his hard length. 

“Touch me wherever you want, princess. I’m yours to play with.” 

Shit. “Shit.” 

His gaze is scorching. He wets his lips and watches you as you explore him, slipping your hands up his abs under his shirt, which he graciously removes when you complain that you’re more naked than him. You remove your hand from his clothed cock and watch him spin into equal desperation as you, a somewhat annoyed look taking over his face as if to ask you what you’re doing. 

You stun him then, tilting your head just so that you can lock his lips with yours. Enough talking. More feeling. Isn’t that what you two do all the time anyway? And if anything it pushes you two further away instead of guiding you closer. He’s yours to play with, and hopefully soon he realizes you’re his to play with too. 

You let your kisses become messy, weaving your tongue through his mouth before sucking on his neck again, feeling a light spank on your butt when you do. 

“Hey,” you say. “That hurt!” It didn’t. Not even a little bit. If anything it makes you squirm more, wanting to grind down onto him but you’re not in the right position for that. Next time, you promise. 

He laughs lightly. “Don’t test me. I’ll make it hurt.”

“So many empty threats. I recall you saying you were going to fuck me?” You readjust your position so your ass is in the air as you trail your tongue down Seokjin’s chest, teasing his nipples on the way down to his navel. 

“Watch your tone, Y/N.” He warns again. This time there’s a little venom behind it. 

“Mm, okay. Sorry. Maybe we need to establish a safe word.” You pop the zipper of his slacks and look up at him. 

He nods. “We’ll use the traffic light system. You know what that is?” 

You scoff. “Of course I do. I read.” 

“Oh, of course. Sorry for asking.”

“You’re forgiven,” you say, pulling the zipper down. He’s wearing black briefs, but you can see a tiny damp spot from where his erection pushes against the fabric. “Can I?”

“Yes, baby. Go ahead.” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, you’re tugging downward, whining when the pants don’t budge from how he’s sitting. 

“Here,” he laughs, and lifts his hips so you can tug. As you do, his cock springs free, tapping your wrist as you pull. 

Fuck. Seokjin is huge. You know this. You’ve seen hundreds of photos now and watched numerous videos, but that didn’t prepare you for reality. His tip is that same angry red it is when he’s incredibly aroused, and it’s glistening a little with precum. Your mouth waters. How would he taste? Will he let you taste him?

“Shit, Y/N. Look what you do to me,” he says. 

You blink at him. God, that’s right. You did this to him. He’s this turned on because of you. 

“I didn’t even do anything. You just took my shirt and bra off,” you say. 

“And you think you haven’t gotten me rock hard while fully clothed? God, do you remember that day in the kitchen a few months ago when I had you practicing cutting carrots and you hit your head? Did you not feel anything when you brushed your perfect ass up against me?” 

With that, Seokjin slaps your ass with one hand, the smacking sound ringing out in the room. A slight sting forms under his hand and you can’t help it, you moan. 

“I thought…I thought maybe you were hard but I didn’t know why. I just…I don’t know…I buried it in my memory because I didn’t think it would be true.” 

Seokjin rubs where he slapped, the warm sting soothed by his soft palm. 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve fucked my fist to the memory of you bending over and showing me your tiny little panties. Oh, shit, and those pajama shorts you always wear that ride up your thigh. Fuck. I almost came in my pants that one night you wore those to bed.” 

“I…I didn’t know,” you say weakly. Seokjin sighs and taps your side, pushing you into a sitting position. Your hands still rest on his thighs, right around the base of his cock. 

“Listen, Y/N, I know that I haven’t been the most clear on my feelings from the start, but I’m trying to rectify that now and hear me out. I like you a lot. And I’ve liked you probably since we first met, honestly. I dream about your thighs resting around my face as you sit on it. How sweet your wet pussy must taste. Every time I see you I have to try to think of morbid things to stop myself from popping a boner in public because I’m picturing you naked and waiting for me in my office, my tie in your pretty little mouth to silence your moans as I fuck you on my desk. I want to fuck those overthinking, stressful moments out of you and then feeding you delicious food after as we sit on the couch watching Netflix. 

“You have absolutely no idea what it’s like for me to feel like a horny teenager again the second you walk into a room. But god, I want to show you some amazing, dirty things.” 

You squeeze your legs together, your clit throbbing for attention now that it’s been promised.

“Then do it. Fuck me. Show me amazing dirty things.” You take his hot length in your hands and give him one long stroke. 

“You are such a tease,” he scoffs, which turns into a hiss as you lean down and take him into your mouth. 

God, he’s big. The edges of your lips are struggling to stretch to take him into your mouth. With a flick of your tongue along the tip, though, you wet him enough to slide more fully in. You taste the light tang of precum on your tongue and it makes you salivate more, allowing you to bob up and down as you hollow your cheeks. 

When was the last time you did this? You don’t even remember honestly, it’s all lost in the fog of shitty date nights, of trying to force yourself to take more than you could to prove something to yourself or the guy you were with. 

You know better now; Seokjin is too big to take all of; unless some porn star with no uvula or teeth is sucking him down, there’s no way to shove him all in without it hurting either of you. So you do your best, popping the head of his cock out of your mouth and dribbling some of your saliva around the shaft, laving your tongue along it as you pump him with your wet fist. 

The slick sounds of your hand movements are accompanied by soft little groans as you try to repeat all the things you’ve seen him do before. 

“Fuckkk Y/N. Yes.” You squeeze him a little harder and lick lower, then lower still until you’re making a little figure-8 around his balls. When you pop one into his mouth, he jerks. 

“Shit, fuck, fuck. Hold on, if you keep going I’m going to cum.” 

You hum a little and then you feel your hair leave the nape of your neck and a sharp tug. You gasp and detach yourself, leaving you coming up for air with strings of your spit dripping down your chin. 

Seokjin holds your hair looser in his fist now, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Were you trying to make me cum in some insanely short record?” He asks. 

You can’t help but laugh. “No, why? Am I doing a good job?” 

He also laughs and then wipes your chin. “A little too good. My refractory period isn’t that short. And you are still wearing these.” 

Seokjin tugs at the waistband of your panties, and you suddenly feel shy. Why did you decide to wear your most worn out pair today of all days?

“Oh,” you respond, and just as you move to take them off and never speak of them again, he slaps your hand away.

“I didn’t tell you to take them off, did I?” 

“Uh, no, but–”

“Are you attached to them?” He asks and you shake your head. “Good.”

Within seconds, Seokjin rips through the worn out material, tearing it away albeit unevenly, which snaps the elastic to your thighs.

You hiss a little, the tender area of your inner thigh not enjoying the pinch. 

“Are you okay?” And just as easily as Seokjin exudes that sexy dominant self, he’s also light and considerate, something you haven’t witnessed in his streams. 

“Yeah, just got whipped by the elastic right here,” you say and rub at the invisible wound. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and pulls your thigh a little wider, bending down to take a closer look. You open your mouth to tell him you’re okay, but before you get the chance, he’s kissing it delicately, poking his tongue out to just graze your skin and dampen it before pursing his lips and blowing. 

Cold air taps your thighs, which admittedly, are already damp from how turned on you are, and as your skin prickles with goosebumps, you can tell Seokjin takes notice. He glances up at you, ever focused as his tongue begins to explore further inward, lapping at your inner thigh further toward the center. His arms reach out and quicker than you can react, your knees are resting over his shoulders, locking his head between them. He pulls back and winks before licking his plush lips and diving back down, and that’s when you feel him gently pulling your labia into his mouth as he suckles. You never knew that could feel so good. 

A whimper escapes you and that only seems to spur him on, as he detaches from them and laps upward, this time sharply sucking your clit. 

“Fuck,” you moan. You feel him chuckle, but he doesn’t remove himself, instead devouring you more intensely, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thigh as he pushes himself further into it. 

“Goddamn,” he says after a moment, and when he pops up, his eyes are burning, a wicked smile on his face. There’s a sheen of wetness along his cheeks, nose, and chin, and he continues to lick it away. “You’re so wet, princess. Is all of this for me?” 

That nickname again causes warmth to dip down through your core. How is it that he can even stay focused now? You’re so desperate for him your brain can hardly form words. 

“Yes,” you manage to choke out. 

“Mmm, well thank you. I’m eating well.” He kisses the top of your thigh. “I could do this all night.” He begins to dive down, but you throw your hand out, sinking your fingers into his hair. 

“No!”

“No?” He raises his eyebrows and tries to read your expression. 

“I need you,” you say. That’s an understatement. If such a word exists that is greater than need, that’s what you have for Seokjin right now. 

“But I wasn’t done with my meal,” he teases. He runs his fingers through your wet heat, rubbing at your clit. You buck at the direct stimulation, the pressure acting as a welcome relief. “This pussy tastes so good. I don’t know if I’m ready to give it up.”

With that, Seokjin sinks a finger in. God, his fingers are long, finding the rough patch inside of you and stroking at it. You clench around his finger. 

“Hmm, do you think my cock will fit into this tight little cunt?” He asks, and you feel a rush of heat head to your cheeks. The way he can just flip like a switch, to taunt you devilishly, to crack a few jokes and then be so dirty is not just impressive, but so incredibly hot. He begins to retreat his finger from you, which draws out a whine. It feels so good to be filled. 

“Answer my question,” he prods. Everything but the tip of his finger has pulled out. You reflexively clench again, trying to urge it back in. “Is my cock going to fit in here? Or do I need to fuck it open a little bit?” 

You want to answer, you do, but you can’t seem to form a legitimate response besides the first thought that comes to your head.

“Wanna cum,” you say stupidly. 

“Then what do you need to do?” 

“I need to answer your question,” you gasp as he pinches your clit with his other hand. 

“And what is your answer?” 

“I…I need you to fuck me open with your fingers.”

“Mmm, and why?”

“Because my pussy is too tight for your big coc–fuck!” 

Two fingers sink in, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. You can feel Seokjin curl his fingers toward him as he touches your g-spot. Closer, you’re getting closer. 

“Ugh,” you whine, and as if he can tell what’s bothering you, he latches his mouth back onto your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 

The pressure in your stomach dips, and now you’re clenching firmly around his fingers as they scissor you wider. The slick sounds of him fucking you only add to your arousal. Your hips try to help, but you learn quickly that you’re not helping, you’re edging yourself away from your orgasm. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin says.

“More,” you respond, not caring if he’s scolding you or even concerned. You need more. Now. “Please, more.” 

He replaces his lips with his other hand, rubbing and pinching your clit within his own rhythm.

“Good girl. You’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you. All for me. All mine.” He bends down and pulls a nipple into his mouth. And that’s when you cum, your hips bucking into his hand as he strikes your g-spot head on. 

You can feel your heels tingle as they try to get the blood back into them. Seokjin massages your thighs as he places your legs back down on the bed, helping ground you in the swimming intensity of whatever the fuck just happened. The tremors of the orgasm’s aftershock rock through you, though not for long, as sure enough, he’s lying down on the bed next to you, pulling you close to him as you come back down. You tilt your head to let his lips find yours.  

He tastes like you, and there’s something impossibly hot about that. 

When he pulls back, you can tell how flushed he is, and when you glance down, sure enough his cock is so red and possibly harder than it was before. 

You reach down to relieve some of the pressure but Seokjin shakes his head. 

“We don’t have to tonight,” he says. 

You blanch. “What?” 

“If you don’t want to. I’m glad you came. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen in my life. And I wanted to make you cum. But you’re under no obligation to go further.”

Is he fucking serious right now? “Did you not just see me choke on your dick? Shall I give you an encore?” Seokjin laughs and you shake your head. “Don’t be diplomatic about this. That looks painful. Fuck the shit out of me like you said you would.”

“I didn’t say I would fuck the shit out of you.” 

“Fine then I’m saying it. Seokjin, I have wanted you to fuck the shit out of me since you walked into my interview at the restaurant and asked me if I knew what the difference between scallions and chives are.” 

“You’d be surprised how many people don’t know the difference! I didn’t want an idiot on my staff to have to mentor.” 

“You’re missing the point.” You laugh, leaning in and nipping at his shoulder. “I have wanted you since day one. I am the definition of down bad. Every book I’ve read in almost a year has me picturing you as the love interest who absolutely destroys the pussy of the main character. You’ve been haunting me for months. Now please make good on my fantasy.”

“Wait wait. What’s the best fantasy?” 

“I don’t know!” You say. But he knows you’re lying. 

“Tell me,” he urges. 

“No,” you say. “I don’t know!”

“Is it one where I’m some giant alien with a huge blue cock that only has the urge to breed you?” 

Head floods your face. “What? No! First of all, how do you even know about that book?”

“I’m chronically online,” he deadpans. Ah, you realize. Of course it’s come up in his other profession. “Enlighten me then. What is the fantasy?”

He laces his fingers with yours and pulls your fist to his mouth. Then he begins his strategy anew, giving soft, tender kisses along your inner arm as he makes his way up, pausing to kiss your shoulder and clavicle before delivering a scorching kiss on your lips. You feel yourself melting into him, eagerly trying to get more and more of him. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” he whispers in your ear before lightly nipping at your earlobe. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I would never make fun of you for having a fantasy about something, especially if I’m involved.” 

You sigh, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You hide your face in his broad shoulder. “It’s…it has to do with the pet name you started calling me recently.”

“Ah…princess?” A shiver runs down your spine. “Do you like it when I call you that?” 

“Yes,” you mutter. A hum rumbles through Seokjin’s chest. He shifts, sitting up on the bed. And then you feel him use that insane strength to pull you up with him, fixing you to sit in his lap. His cock is right against your pussy and you have to fight the urge to grind against him. 

“What do you like about it?” He asks and you pause, trying to not show all of your cards. He’s your friend, and possibly is becoming something more. But you’re not sure what you want to tell Seokjin about your past. 

You choose your words carefully. “I like the idea of being precious to you. To be seen as important enough to be royalty. Powerful enough.” You pull back and look at him. “And I like the idea that I have power…you never have used that over me. Except maybe once but you were so responsive to my feedback when we talked back in February about me streaming and school. Like, no I didn’t want you telling me what to do. But I liked that you respected me enough to back off and let me figure things out. That means a lot to me. You always let me figure things out.”

“Well, yeah. Because it’s your life. You have a right to choose for yourself. No one gets to decide what choices you’ll make on your behalf. And making choices doesn’t make you a bad person or a good person. You just are, Y/N.” 

Tears well up in your eyes. “Thank you for saying that. It hasn’t always felt that way.” 

Seokjin curls his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “In terms of power, this is how things are supposed to be. You shouldn’t feel powerless around me. Especially not here. Just because I’m assuming a role that’s more dominant doesn’t mean you’re not in complete control. Just because in some places in my life I’m ‘in charge’ doesn’t mean that I decide what goes on here. You’re in complete control of what you want and how you want it.” 

You bury your face into his chest. If you could hold onto a moment forever, this would be it. After a few moments of silence, you hug Seokjin close to you, and then pull back, looking up at him. His eyes are so warm and tender as he gazes back down at you and you feel a tug in your chest. This, this is what safety feels like.  

He begins rubbing your back and you stifle a nod, but he catches it. “Do you want to go to bed?” 

You roll your eyes before rutting against him. He grunts. “I want to tell you about my fantasy,” you decide and he laughs. 

“Okay, princess. Go for it.” 

“Okay so we’re in the throne room. And I’m sitting on the throne. You’re my loyal knight. You’ll do anything to please me.” 

“Mmm, doesn’t sound too far off from the truth.” You pinch his side. “Yah! Stop it.” 

“Don’t interrupt me. So you’ll do anything for me. Slay beasts, accompany me on my journeys, defend me to the court. You’re my friend and my backup for when shit hits the fan. Anyway, after a long fought battle where you know, you pine after me for a while, you snap. And you decide you need me and you need me now.” 

You begin to rock against his length, and Seokjin grins, starting to follow your movements. “Tell me more,” he says, his cock sliding between your wet lips. 

“So after this long, arduous journey, you decide you need to claim me. Maybe it’s jealousy that I’m being promised to some king in a far away kingdom or something. But after meeting with me in the throne room, you get down on your knees and force my legs apart. 

“‘Princess’, you say to me, ‘I’ve learned in this world that time is not promised, and because time isn’t promised, I need you to know now how I truly feel. I am on my knees, letting you know I need you. Please, let me worship you,’ and being the diplomatic princess I am, I open my legs for you and you begin eating me out like your life depends on it. And then, ah…it gets kind of kinky,” you say, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Hmm. Are you curious about kink? Or have you been part of kink communities?” Seokjin asks thoughtfully. 

“Definitely curious. Not really experienced,” you offer. 

“Noted. Continue.” 

“So, you decide to crawl under my skirt, eating me out like your life depends on it, but then my chambermaid or someone comes in and says I have a meeting soon I need to prepare for. 

“But I’ve kept you under my gown, really well hidden because it’s so annoyingly big, and all the while you’re still teasing me. Trying to test and see if I’d cum with others around.”

“And do you?”

“Sometimes in the fantasy I do, yeah. And usually by that point, I get discovered and you keep going, so unbothered by people watching. Or sometimes we don’t get caught, and the second the others leave I’m riding you naked on my throne wearing only my crown.” You are panting now, your slick body fully stimulating Seokjin’s cock, which is leaking precum again. 

“Mmm, I like that. A little exhibition kink in there. So desperate to be fucked you don’t care who sees. That’s pretty hot.” 

“Uh huh. So, so desperate.” 

“Is your pussy that needy in your fantasy? Or is that how it is now?”

“Fuck, Seokjin.” 

“Yes princess?”

“Please.”

He leans down, claiming your lips as you two continue to rub your bodies against each other, sliding skin against skin with delicious friction. When his cock slides at a particular angle, you feel it rub straight over your clit in a way that has you moaning. 

Seokjin rips away his lips from yours, instead latching onto your neck for a deep suck that you know is going to leave a mark. But you don’t care. God not even a little bit.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? My girl is so needy for my cock, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Please, more,” you respond, shifting your hips to try and get him closer to where you need him. 

“Not even patient at all, are you?” You know this is him playing it up, because the way he’s breathing suggests he, too, isn’t very patient. He slides a little more, grinding his hips into you. 

“I need you. I need it,” you whine, and Seokjin slows his grinding for a moment, a thought clearly crossing his mind. 

“Oh, shit. I don’t have any condoms,” he says weakly. You grind down again, a bit harder this time. 

“I’m on birth control.” Your next appointment for your birth control shot is in a month. You should be fine. 

“I’m clean,” he offers, hands going to your ass and shoving you further into him, the weight of his large hands on your hips making you dizzy. 

“I would hope so. I put your cock in my mouth earlier. We probably should have established that sooner,” you copy his previous movement and suck on the hollow of his collar bone, hoping you’re marking him as he marked you.

A strained laugh leaves his chest. “You’re right. And you’re clean too?”

“Yes, sorry.” You stop gyrating. You know you need to be more serious about this. “I’m clean. And…I also haven’t had sex in a long time so I’m sorry if I’m not good at this.”

He sighs. “Pause.”

Oh shit, you think. Does that turn him off? What if he doesn’t want to have sex with someone who has been so obviously horny and lonely for a while? It’s not like you’re a sex god like he is. You can barely even say what you want and where you want it. Maybe he doesn’t want to have sex with someone who needs this much direction. After all, what fun is it when you have to instruct your partner how to make you come because they have no instincts? 

You are about to break down, to call it all off, and then you look at Seokjin again, feel how hard he is under you, see the perspiration dotting his hairline. He said only a few minutes ago that you almost made him cum with your blowjob skills. He admitted he likes you. 

You know he wants you, regardless of how many times you’ve had sex in comparison to him. There’s proof right in front of you that this man wants you. You take a deep breath. “Sorry. I…I don’t know why I’m apologizing actually.” You force a nervous laugh. 

His eyebrows twist closer together. “You don’t…need to apologize for your sex experience. It’s not being graded.” 

“I know, I know. And I also know that sex is different for every single pair of people. It’s less about being good and more about listening to your partner and figuring it out together. If you were treating me sexually the same way as you treated other people you’ve had sex with, it would probably be…maybe not as good? Because we might not like the same things.

“But I guess I just…I’m a little insecure; that’s all.”

“Okay. That’s ok. I feel a bit insecure too. This is all really vulnerable and I’m terrified I’m not going to know what you want or pay enough attention to check in.” 

“Why?” You ask. You’re surprised to hear Seokjin is insecure about anything. 

“Because I want you so much, Y/N. I have never felt such intense, deep desire like this and I’m afraid that once I get a taste of you I’ll just want more and I’ll start bending the rules for my own sick pleasure.” 

“Has….has that ever happened before? Where you crossed boundaries?”

“Never. And that’s why it’s so terrifying. I’ve never felt so out of control before. You look at me a certain way and I get so hard I swear my dick will fall off. I’ve always been so collected but with you I feel scrambled and like if I’m not careful I’ll, I’ll–”

“You’ll fuck the shit out of me?” You tease and you see Seokjin’s concern wash away as you giggle. “Isn’t that what I told you to do anyway?”

He grins. “Yeah, you did.” 

“Well then let’s remember what you said before. Traffic light system when it’s needed. Or, for now, maybe we can just trust that if we are uncomfortable we’ll say something? Since this is so new…Stop means stop for now. A color if we feel like we aren’t being taken seriously. Just to be sure.”

Seokjin nods, then tenderly kisses your forehead. “Okay, I like that.”

“Good, because I am so wet and if you don’t fuck me soon I might explode.” 

You both laugh at that, but your laughter is turned into a tight moan when you feel Seokjin’s hand slip from around your back and down to your clit. You hum in delight. 

“Feel good baby?” 

“Yes,” you say, clenching as he rolls his thumb around your nub. 

“You’re so wet. Shit.” His hand moves to his cock, jerking it in his fist a few times before gently tapping your thigh so you push up a bit away from his lap. He adjusts the angle, brushing his cockhead against you to gather some of your arousal. And then, he’s inside.  

Holy shit. You can feel him stretching you, testing your limits, your body spasming around the girth of him as he nestles deep in you, making you feel exceptionally full. 

“Oh god,” you moan, grinding down to the hilt. 

“Oh, fuck, Y/N. You’re so fucking tight.” 

Both of you take an exasperated breath and you can’t help but giggle at your dual reaction. “Damn, where have you been hiding that thing?” You joke and Seokjin hisses. 

“Ah, ah, careful. When you laugh you squeeze around me and you feel so good. But to answer your question, either you’ve been oblivious every time I’ve popped a boner around you or you know damn well where I’ve been keeping it.” 

He tests the waters, rolling his hips a little. A gasp escapes from you. Seokjin grins at you devilishly and you cock an eyebrow before clenching down in retaliation. His eyes widen. “Y/N,” he warns.

You bat your eyelashes innocently. “Sorry, but you did this,” you say, echoing his earlier sentiment back to him. “You made me this way for you.” You shove your hips back, causing him to grunt. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll last, it’s been a while.” 

“I don’t care. It’s fine. Cum whenever you want. Just, god, don’t stop.” 

A dark look casts across his face. “Alright. Just remember this is what you asked for.” 

Seokjin pulls out. What? How is this supposed to be what you asked for? You make a pathetic noise at the loss, pouting at him as he lays you down softly onto your sheets. 

He clicks his tongue at you. “So needy.” Maybe he’s trying to sound condescending, but he’s also smiling. He leans forward to push some of your hair out of your face, his palm resting on your cheek. “So beautiful.”

Something in your chest clenches, and you take a deep breath to try and break apart the feeling. But it’s still there, so deep in your chest you don’t think anything is going to make it go away. And you’re also not sure you want it to. 

You lean into his palm, pecking it with your lips before glancing up at him. He swallows hard. Seconds pass as Seokjin follows the lines of your body with his eyes, as if he’s trying to memorize you. As if you might just slip away. He breathes unevenly, and you see his eyes glistening in the dim light of your room. 

“Hey,” you say hoarsely, reaching a hand over to his thigh and poking it. “Come back to me.” 

He blinks a few times and takes another breath, this time a steadier one. “Sorry, I was getting lost in my thoughts.”

“Are you okay?” You ask. “Do you want to stop?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “No, no I’m fine. I was just thinking about how long I wanted this. And maybe longer than I even realized. But I’m okay.”

You get it; for some reason the energy between the two of you is so intense, charged with waves of emotion you didn’t even know you can feel. “Okay,” you say, and you reach out your hand for him to lace with this. “How do you want me?”

This seems to refocus things. Right now you’re lying flat on your back, your legs slightly open, and you know that’s not how Seokjin planned to position you. He grins and takes your hand, leading it to the back of your thigh that he lifts. You follow his lead, spreading your legs so that you’re grasping behind both your knees, incredibly open and vulnerable for him once more. 

He reaches behind you and puts a pillow under your neck before grabbing the other. With a simple lift of your hips, he scootches the pillow under your hips, creating an angle for your back to rest more comfortably and clearly, allowing him to reach deeper. 

From this angle, you can also see better as he strokes his cock a few times before positioning himself between your legs. 

“If for some reason this hurts at any point, tell me and we’ll find something more comfortable for you, okay?” You hum in agreement, staring down at his length, clenching as you ache to feel it filling you once again. 

He snorts. “Verbal agreement please, Y/N. Remember our rules.” 

“Yes,” you say eagerly and without any more conversation, he takes himself in his hand and fucks into you. 

“Jin,” you breathe. Did he get bigger? You know that there’s no way that can be true, that it’s probably due to how you’re angled for him to reach deeper, but each stroke is deliciously dizzying. 

Seokjin responds with a concentrated grunt and then he pulls out completely. 

“No! No please,” you beg and feel him sheath himself back into you, harder. 

“God, such a pretty little pussy you have, don’t you?” He rocks his hips back, kissing against your cervix, which elicits a deep moan as he begins to thrust harder, the slap of his balls against your wetness sounding so incredibly filthy. “Taking me so well, princess.” 

Seokjin groans but doesn’t relent, instead leaning more of his weight onto you, forcing your legs to tuck in closer to your chest. At this angle, he rubs directly against your g-spot, sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh my god, there! Please!” Thank god he listens, snapping his hips with short, hard thrusts. You’re so close. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He pants, sweat now thoroughly beading down his temples and blooming on your chest. You nod. Words aren’t forming in your head. 

“Poor baby, did I fuck you stupid? Cum for me princess. Cum on this cock.” You don’t need much more convincing, and you feel yourself shake as you orgasm, clamping down on him. Your hands go loose on your thighs, fingers tingling so much that they can no longer hold on. 

“Good girl. That’s it baby, just let go, I’ve got you.” He intercepts your legs before they close, pushing himself forward and angling you back as he continues to thrust. Maybe it’s the feeling , or his sweet affirmation, but your vision blurs and you feel yourself blink away a few stray tears that leak from the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Seokjin says, teeth gritted as he thrusts again. And again. And again. You feel your muscles tighten as you brace yourself for another orgasm, and find enough strength to reach down to your clit and rub it. The sudden pleasure spikes once more and you’re falling again, this time your body quaking roughly as Seokjin finally cums, his cock twitching as a pleasurable warmth spills into you. 

You study his face, fascinated how you’ve seen it before, yet it feels so different to witness it in person. The tendons in his neck protrude, and you feel the energy of the room sink into blissful exhaustion as he rolls the both of you onto your sides while still connected. 

He sighs and then closes his eyes, his dick twitching a little here and there, but overall beginning to go soft inside you. You feel the flood of cum beginning to leak around it, but you don’t care right now, no. 

Right now you are studying Seokjin and perhaps doing what he was doing to you before: memorizing everything about him in case it’s the only time you’ll see him this way. Any minute, he could decide this is a huge mistake, and he’ll flee out the door apologizing. But for the moment, you are studying the moles and freckles that dot along his neck and back, counting them so you can commit the number to memory.  

“What are you staring at me for?” He asks, though his eyes remain closed. 

“I’m just thinking,” you say. 

His eyes flit open. “You don’t regret it, do you?” 

“Not at all, I just…I’m thinking about where we go from here. I don’t want this to be the only time.” You shake your head and smile shyly. Everything feels so tender right now. But you know honesty is needed more than anything. 

Seokjin shifts, and you hiss a little as you feel him slip out of you, wetness dribbling onto your sheets. You’ll definitely have to wash these tomorrow. 

“It doesn’t have to be a one time thing if you don’t want it to be. Like I said before; I like you, I want to date you.” 

“We kind of skipped the first date and had sex instead though,” you chuckle and Seokjin rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, well, we aren’t really playing things by the book right now anyway. This can be our first date.”

“It’s not though! We didn’t go on a date, we just talked and had sex.”

“Yah! It was not just sex. It was great sex! I think that counts for something. Do dates require any more?” 

“Usually eating something, leaving the house. Two things we’ve failed to do.”

Seokjin suddenly rolls away, standing and searching for his clothes, gathering them in his hands. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, shifting yourself up in the bed. 

“Get dressed,” Seokjin says, pulling his slacks up his waist. “We are going out to eat.” 

“It’s 4am! Isn’t everything closed?” 

“Not the convenience store. We are going to solidify this as a date by having post-sex 4am ramyeon and kimbap and maybe some dessert. And then I will walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight and you’ll invite me in to hang out. Then we’ll have sex again until you kick me out and decide the first date is over.” 

He reaches into the pile of laundry in the corner, grabbing your bra and tosses it to you. As you begin to pull it over your body, you notice Seokjin has frozen over another pile of your strewn laundry. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, latching the hooks into place. 

He shifts a little, pulling whatever he was looking at from the pile. Embarrassment floods through your stomach as you realize what he’s holding. 

“Do you normally toss your vibrators into your laundry or is today my lucky day?” 

He holds the purple clitoral vibrator in front of you and you hide your face behind your hands. “Ahh no! This is so embarrassing!” 

Seokjin laughs and walks over, pulling your hands from your face. “What about this is embarrassing? First, you stream raunchy pornographic games sometimes to thousands of strangers. And second, I just spent a good chunk of this last blissful hour with my mouth serving as your personal sex toy.” 

“I know, it’s just that. This is different somehow. Like now you know!”

“Know what? That you masturbate? Well, yeah I kind of figured you did. Do you think I don’t?”

“I know you do.” 

“How?”

Shit. You can’t tell him you’ve seen him do it on his channel. “Um, well, you said so earlier you do.” Seokjin chuckles and then begins rifling through your dresser across from your bed, grabbing you a fresh pair of panties since he destroyed the last pair you were wearing. 

“Touché. But anyway, it’s good that you masturbate. It’s healthy. And also, it’s none of my business if you do or don’t. Unless you want to show me sometime, which I would beg to see, whatever you choose to do when I’m not around is your business.” 

He gathers together a large, baggy t-shirt and some joggers from your closet. “One sec,” he says, telling you to pause as you begin to maneuver into your panties, the stickiness of your combined arousal beginning to dry between your legs in an uncomfortable way. 

He returns a few seconds later with a damp washcloth and instructs you to lie back, opening your legs slightly to wipe away the mess.

“You don’t have to do this,” you insist but Seokjin continues anyway. 

“I know, I want to. I want to make sure you receive proper aftercare.” When he finishes, he kisses your kneecap. “Okay, let’s go.”

You groan, fully content to just lie in bed, but your stomach says otherwise. It ekes out a deep gurgle and Seokjin smiles smugly. 

“Ugh, fine. I’ll use the bathroom and get dressed. But just know if they don’t have the ramyeon I like there, I’m making you drive around town until we find it.” You flop out of bed with your pile of fresh laundry and head out of the bedroom toward the bathroom. 

“Sounds great,” he calls behind you. “Sounds like the perfect first date.”

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[astrofaeology]

Dear Fellow Astrologers/Tarot Readers 🐇🤍

Please be thougher with your terms and conditions being made and I wouldn't recommend giving services to minors/underage people and because of this experience I will be changing the terms and conditions of my service.

As of reccently a friend of mine who deleted their account on twitter, recieved an invoice from a former client saying that they haven't recieved their reading.

The funny thing is that my friend gave them their reading the same day.

Since they deleted their account they don't have proof of agreement, hopefully with the evidence they have - proof that they sent the reading and their terms and conditions and the fact that the payment was recorded on the system on google sheets so - proof of the fact that it was written along time ago.

However since paypal does have a preference towards the buyer please take precautions.

So please take evidence of the fact that you have sent the reading aswell as the fact that the customer has confirmed that they have recieved it.

[shabbytigers]

i have a functioning german business bank account that is permitted to receive payments on invoices

the degree to which this has been an opaque, anxiogenic, and verging on hostile process that ass-raped precisely the most questionable bits of my executive function really cannot be overemphasized. but here we are, and now i can get fucking paid without risking excommunication by my personal bank, which sucks and needs to be abandoned with prejudice if and when i pull together what it takes to tackle opening yet another new account.

(more specs for those with pathological interest levels)

ing direct, the Legitimate Global Bank, Right?, is bad actually (extremely monolingual and impenetrable, sent me death threats for getting paid, did not suggest that i open a business account or offer help of any kind)

revolut, the Online-Only Eastern Bloc Outfit Targeting Expats Hmmm, is good actually (has honest to god english language versions of everything. i still had to figure out what the fuck jesse was talking about a couple of times by googling things but mostly wrt types of documentation, which is sort of fair bc those are not, fundamentally, things that have translations. in any case it was helpful enough at pointing to gaps that i did eventually manage to connect the dots and take steps to fill them. it also was very nice and accepted the piece of paper that says i’ve applied in lieu of the actual new Gewerbeanmeldung. just, like, has Any customer service orientation or sympathy whatsoever)

the piece of the berlin government where you re-register your business: not too bad actually. they try to offer english (!). admittedly it doesn’t work — weird alt-text pop-up methodology that failed by screen three of a many-screens online form — but i appreciated the gesture. anyway the instructions are simple enough to manage with a sufficiently robust army of spite, stubbornness, terror, and machine translators. ux was hinky but ultimately functional

most of this nonsense is kind of on me for not figuring out how a whole bunch of shit works in a timely manner, but in my defense, it is not in any way intuitive, and guidance is hella scarce. allaboutberlin and portal are good resources that i used to open the business in the first place but, like, i didn’t have accounts with them, there wasn’t any “the noob is moving, better alert them that they have to do x, y, and z about it, even though they literally just got the new business in order and are still feeling triumphant doneness!” flag in their systems, and nothing on my end clued me in that i wasn’t dotting all the is and crossing all the ts, so why exactly tf would i have gone back to those sites looking up shit i didn’t know i didn’t know? to be clear, i was not just drifting along in lala land, i was in fact very busy being brave and proactive on other bureaucratic fronts like “how to invoice a client. no, but correctly” and “what do i have to do about vat despite having figured out that all of this is vat-exempt” and so on. anyway it was a nice classic fucking several stages of difficult unraveling with each stage gating the next stage immigrant’s puzzle

[dandelion-wings]

New Jarch celebration ask! In your Favonius Stables AU, what does a day in Jean's life look like? Dare I ask... how many horses disrespect the fences and break out of their enclosure each day?

Thank you for asking! :D

For context, the Favonius Stables is a quite large boarding and lesson barn. I'm basing it on several I've been at over the years, but at the same time all but the first have been run by my boss, so IDK if there's anything here that's specifically characteristic of her and not barns in general. XD

Jean is the barn manager (Varka insisted on knocking "assistant" off her title several years ago; he's already the owner, he says, and he doesn't actually want to manage anyway) and Kaeya is the informal assistant manager in turn, which I mention because he's pretty integral to Jean's daily life. They both live in apartments above the barn (there's two of them and then Varka's house, on-site, where Razor lives and takes care of the Too Many Dogs dogs in Varka's absence, which stresses Jean out enormously because they're? responsible? for this unclaimed kid who is getting "alternative schooling" from Lisa and does not appear to exist in any formal records or system? Varka refuses to explain anything and so she just makes sure Razor gets food and his shots), and thus are both reliably on-call for barn emergencies. Jean is a morning person and Kaeya is a night owl, which is useful overlap!

As the morning person, on weekdays she gets up, feeds, and puts the horses out, a process which Kaeya usually wakes up during and comes down to help with about halfway through. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, they clean the stalls together, with breaks for lessons for a couple of older ladies who prefer to come out early. Jean does Alice's lessons personally, usually while Kaeya does Klee's (Klee can come during regular schooltimes because she is also getting "alternative schooling," some of which involves Alice just leaving her at the barn for the day. Jean hates this but Varka says it's fine, so all she can do is hope it's one of the days her big brother is with her), but Kaeya does most of the others.

Once stalls are clean there's all the other regular work of a barn: checking and repairing fences, stalls, etc., ordering and picking up and unloading feed and hay, maintenance on farm machinery.... There's always something broken that needs to be dealt with, that's just how it works. The farrier comes on Fridays noon to three (they have enough horses they cycle them through), there's regular vet visits (and emergency vet visits) and such, and in between all of that she has accounts and invoices and such to deal with.

Eula arrives mid-afternoon (she has a morning job) and does most of the "training" riding, though there are a few particular boarders who insist on Jean. Lisa also arrives in early afternoon and collars Razor, and Klee if she's there, for daily schoolwork.

After school lets out, the kids descend! Eula and Kaeya will be doing back-to-back lessons for the rest of the afternoon and the early evening. Tuesdays and Thursdays are Noelle's nights to do stalls; Jean will usually help her, because there's a lot of them to do, and Noelle will protest but is too polite to stop her. Jean is the "face" of the barn to prospective boarders and students, so she often has tours and such scheduled at this time, too.

Lisa finishes up with Razor around five, which for her and Jean is dinnertime, at which point Jean more-or-less clocks out unless it's an emergency (or she sees something she has to deal with, which Lisa does her best to circumvent). Kaeya finishes up lessons earlier than Eula because he does evening feeding and turnout (with Noelle's help on Tuesdays and Thursdays), and keeps an eye on everything until everyone else is gone, because Jean would do it herself otherwise.

Weekend mornings are Amber's to work, and she is a lot fiercer than Noelle about stopping Jean from helping her. On weekends Lisa (who has a part-time job with a local university) is also there to distract her; this is when Lisa might get her and Eula to go on a trail ride with her, or drag her off the barn entirely. Eula does weekend evenings. As long as Kaeya is on-site when she's off the property, Jean will let herself be dragged off for actual recreational activities! So actually she has a better work-life balance than in the KoF. XD

(She and Kaeya both have some trauma over leaving stables unattended. The Dawn Winery Stables burned down while everyone, including the staff, were up at the actual winery for Diluc's birthday, and she and Kaeya were the ones restraining Diluc after Crepus bolted into the stable.)

During the summer kids will be there all day and things are adjusted accordingly; it does mean a bit of a break for her, because those who want to ride more while school is out are usually very eager to work that extra horse time off.

As for horses disrespecting the fences:

DODOCO, ALL DAY, EVERY DAY. There is no Pony Jail that can hold him. Legitimately the only trick is to always have hay available where you want him to be.

Midnight is a little less bad but when she sees something she wants to do she's very clever.

Spin is a jumper and treats fences as suggestions; fortunately, she also has Manners and does what is Correct unless the temptation is overwhelming.

Boreas likewise is a jumper who treats fences as suggestions, and does not have Manners; since he is a stud, he is thus in Horse Penitentiary, which is usually more effective than Pony Jail unless the mares are in season, during which he goes on night turnout to prevent accidents. There has nonetheless been one little Boreas-Spin baby when Varka did not properly secure him while the mares were out, for which he apologized deeply but was not ever forgiven. (Eula trained that colt up beautifully and did make a profit, but she still doesn't appreciate the time she spent unable to ride Spin).

Dandy is also a stud, but is Extremely Polite and also not a jumper, so he does not need to live in Horse Penitentiary.

As befit their names, Blossom is a gentlewoman, and Bunny is a gentleman. They never break out unless another horse has done it first and they're just following.

Kaeya always CLAIMS he let Waltz out by accident. No one has actually SEEN Waltz disrespect a fence. And yet....

[biteghost]

Hello ghost I need your help I am starting commission and new to PayPal, someone ask me can I draw something for them. I said sure, they told me to send my paypal email. So them my scan code so they can send the money but, that not it because they told me again send them my paypal email so I went to my profile and found a link to my account and send it but that not it either. They ask again send my email and I don't know what to do.

Hi there! Sorry you seem to be having issues with your commissioner. I'll try to help if I can!

I have a (very detailed) post I've made before with regards to using PayPal as a third party to manage money between clients and your bank, so definitely check that out in case there are any tips there that could help you during your Freelance Artist journey!

So, when you sign up and create an account with PayPal, you must give the site an email address and a phone number that you have access to and control over. These two things are security measures that allow you to authenticate your account. The email that you use to sign in to the PayPal website is your PayPal email. Whatever you use to sign in, send them that email. What they are looking for should look like <yourcoolemailusername@example.com>.

The reason they need this email is because PayPal accounts can send money directly to another account - or request funds from another user - using the email of that user. Sometimes commissioners like to send money for the goods and services they're purchasing (in this case, Art) directly to the artist. However, I would highly recommend using PayPal's invoice system in order to protect yourself from potential scams. There is a step-by-step instruction for how to set up and use Invoices in the post that I linked to at the top of this ask.

Back to your issues: if you're alright with letting this client send you money directly to your PayPal account without the protections of an Invoice, send them the email address that you use to log in to PayPal.

If you already have sent them that email and they still insist that they need something else from you, I would recommend sending them an Invoice for the commission and request they compensate you that way.

If they refuse to send the quoted amount to the email you provide AND they refuse to pay via Invoice, I recommend telling them to get lost, LOL. You're the artist and your time is valuable. Just because you're new to using PayPal doesn't give your clients the right to boss you around or bully you into running your business the way they think you should.

Hope this helps! Good luck!

[todaynewsonline]

Inventory Management Software for Small Businesses

Inventory Management Software for Small Businesses:- Small businesses often face unique challenges when it comes to managing their inventory efficiently. With limited resources and manpower, keeping track of inventory levels, orders, and stock movement can become overwhelming. However, thanks to advancements in technology, small businesses now have access to powerful tools such as inventory…

[ohifonlyx33]

Job Update!

GOOD NEWS!!! I landed a job interview this morning! It's a small company owned by a family that we used to go to church with when I was like 5. And the environment seems chill and checks so many boxes.

It's run by people I trust to be decent people which is HUGE.

Employees are treated like humans.

They want someone who can stay long-term, and even retire one day.

They know I lack experience, and they expect me to take years to learn the job, not to get it all instantly.

They want me to ask questions and learn and grow.

They have a pretty standard 8 hour morning to afternoon

But they are pretty flexible as long as you make up the time.

They offer Insurance

And a live-alone-on-a-tight-budget-but-still-livable starting wage!!!

PAID UNION HOLIDAYS!!!!

Vacation time!

Insurance covered by a union which I've literally never had in my life.

And a small 401K is still more than I have ever had???

And sometimes I'm happy and thinking "now I can look at apartments!"... But I kinda also want to throw up and kinda want to cry because tomorrow I probably have to call and probably accept the job.

I'd probably be an idiot NOT to. Right? I've been out of a job for 4+ months at this point and then out of the blue I get a phone call from someone my mom knew 20-25 years ago when I was but a child, who just happened to hear from my pastor that I might be looking for a job. And I NEED this job, and it's the best offer I've ever gotten. At a GOOD place. Like God literally descended from the heavens and said "here you go, take it or leave it."

But the job is in accounting, which is something I never wanted... even when I kinda liked the idea of an "office" job, it was never specifically in accounting, but more of a reception desk/"here's your coffee, sir" kind of thing or like filing at a local library or working on an editing team. Working with systems and data and charts and excel spreadsheets and quickbook invoices for a company in a boring air maintenance industry specializing in getting "The Good Air™" to high need clients just doesn't sound interesting or fun to me--like I genuinely don't know if I can be happy doing it, but I want to be. But I doubt if I'm even the person they need. Then again, it's a chance for me to grow in an area where I lack, learn things I never knew... and maybe that's good?

And furthermore, The job is also not working with kids. And as scary and stressful as it can be, never knowing what will happen with kids each day (especially if you're in charge), I genuinely have LOVED the fulfillment I've gotten from working with kids and identifying as a preschool teacher('s assistant). I do tend to really enjoy the field of education... or what it could be... it was kind of like a comfort because in my secret heart I feel like I'll probably never get to be a wife or a homeschool mom, but if I can at least teach and nourish other babies and keep them safe, I can share in some of that joy ...but there's just not a lot of good options near me that would be close enough, pay enough, accepting of my incomplete educational background and lack of training, and in the field of Christian (or at least not woke) education.

[myrfing]

hi!!! sorry this might be a bit of an odd ask, but i saw that you get some comms from the crepe site (the eating gif one is sooooo cute) and i wanted to ask what the process was like to use that site to order commissions? is knowledge of korean needed? is it like skeb where you can enter comm details in english and it auto translates it for the artist? thank you for your time!

HI not odd at all! I hope more people use crepe, there's many talented artists on there. There is no auto-translate like on skeb. I run everything through the DeepL translator or good old google translate. I also use the Simple Translate extension for Firefox to make this a lot easier. I have 0 knowledge of Korean so I like to double check back and forth & try to use simple, straightforward phrases. Thankfully the website is also designed pretty intuitively, it's just a lot double checking on my end :J...

I pay via stocking up on Points via Paypal and use that to pay artists. In short: you select a commission type from the artist's page, fill out and send in their request form (it seems to be customizable on their end so they differ between artists), and if they accept your commission, they will invoice you via the site's chat system. They will also likely ask any questions they have about your request in here. Once the site confirms your payment, then it's relayed to them to begin working on your commission. Some artists offer check sketch, etc., stages that are facilitated by the site in the same chat, some don't. When they finish, the site will notify you via email & that chat thread, you receive the file, review it, and confirm the completion. At that point, no changes can be made, and the transaction is complete.

Here's a shitty mspaint guide:

To sign up via email:

Follow this link. Enter your email and hit the link to send an authentication email.

2. In the email from crepe, hit the verify button.

3. Fill out your new credentials, then hit the create account button. You can review the terms & services via the subtitle link.

4. This next page asks you what your account is for. The left box = I'm here to commission artists. The right box = I'm here to take commissions as an artist. Make sure the left box is selected and hit next. (Text below informs you you can swap to an artist account later, and artists can commission from other artists)

5. It then scrolls you to the option to verify your identity. This lets you communicate via kakaotalk, adds a layer of security, and verifies your age for 18+ commissions, but unless you have some form of S. Korean ID, hit "I want to do it later". Then hit the "I don't want to verify now" option again on the confirmation popup. I'll add on to this post on how to verify via passport as an overseas user, but it's not necessary unless you want to get hole & pole commissions.

6. Account creation complete :~)! the button just takes you to the front page which displays random commissions you can browse.

To commission an artist:

I'll use the artist who did the snacking animation for me as an example! Say you find an artist you really like, and you go on their page. Here's an overview.

Let's say I click on the top one. It will take me to this page. Scroll down and review all the information and terms about this particular commission type. Artists will tell you what you get, what they will and won't draw, pricing caveats, what you're allowed to do with the commission, and whatever other pertinent info here.

2. Once you've reviewed everything, scroll back up and hit apply. The price is a range; artists will tend to charge more for high detail/addons!

3. You will be taken to their application form. Again, this is different for each artist, and you're gonna need to carefully fill it out case-by-case. Once you've filled out everything required, scroll all the way down and the submit button should no longer be greyed out. It's purple like all the buttons so far. Hit that, and it will show you your completed application and send it to the artist.

4. At this point, you wait for them to either accept or deny your commission. Here's an overview of your header bar menu, click on your icon to access it. You can check commission progress history, the application you submitted, and your messages here. Your messages are where you're going to be alerted if the artist accepts or not, it will have a notif mark. You can also stock up on points, but you can also do that when they invoice you.

5. Once the artist accepts, you'll get a message. It's in the messages where you'll deal with all communication and the procession of your commission. If you're not completing your steps (i.e. paying, checking the sketches) by hitting the purple buttons, the commission can't continue. These buttons will sometimes take you to different pages, i.e. charging points for the invoice, to the comm timeline page to receive your files and confirm steps...U Must play it by ear here and translate on your own because I'd need an ongoing commission to show you & I'm on ice soup week right now

But that's pretty much it! Some things:

I usually begin my applications with a blurb specifying I'm using a translator as an overseas customer in case they are not comfortable working with the language barrier or I start saying some crazy ass mistranslated shit to them. Ex: 안녕하세요! 저는 기계 번역을 사용하는 해외 고객입니다. 번역이 제대로 되지 않은 텍스트에 대해 사과드립니다. 해외 고객은 받지 않는지 알려주세요.

I tried asking if an artist takes tips once, but there's no built-in system for it and Paypal seems to be the only avenue for it, which I think the site disallows you from sharing (?) to keep transactions moderated by the site. They said "don't worry about it", but I dunno if this is universal

Try to not leave descriptions in your ref images, it's hard to read in your application. Enter it as text in the boxes.

I leave a review once per artist within a month, I am nooot sure about the etiquette about leaving multiple reviews. I don't think it would hurt but uhhh I haven't checked

"Omakase" = artist's choice for most of the image composition. You can still give refs of course and make a simple request, but this means you can't nitpick/have total control over what the artist draws.

"Water level" = NSFW 18+ stuff. I habe no idea what a better translation for the term is yahoo mario water level

👍 enjoy your beautofial art

[trooper1023]

They told her she was just spending the night in Miami.

No warning. No lawyer. No time to pack. Just steel cuffs wrapped around her wrists, cinched tight across her chest, chained to a waist belt so snug she couldn’t breathe. A bus with no food, no water, no bathroom—just a puddle of piss soaking the floor. The guards told her to go ahead and urinate where she sat. She did.

Then they pushed her into Krome.

Krome, the Miami processing center where men with criminal records are supposed to be held—not immigrant women with no charges, no convictions, no voice. Krome, where she and 26 others were stuffed “like sardines in a jar,” forced to sleep on concrete, offered one three-minute shower in four days, and told by guards to pretend to have a seizure if they wanted medicine. One woman actually had a seizure. They came for her. The rest they ignored.

Three people are now dead in ICE custody. Three. In just over a month. Genry Ruiz-Guillen, 29, from Honduras, died January 23. Serawit Gezahegn Dejene, 45, from Ethiopia, died January 29. Maksym Chernyak, 44, from Ukraine, died February 20.

No convictions. No due process. No protection. Just death under fluorescent lights.

And while the bodies pile up, the architects of this system are laughing.

THE ARCHITECTS OF SUFFERING

Tom Homan—now officially Trump’s Border Czar—is no longer just shouting from Fox News panels. He’s in charge. And he’s promising “deportations every day,” vowing to expel millions. He’s pushing to build new detention camps on military bases and at Guantanamo Bay, to outsource incarceration to local jails, and to lower federal detention standards across the board. He wants to hand over human lives to any sheriff with a cage and a budget. This isn’t law enforcement—it’s a national purge.

Kristi Noem is no longer the governor of South Dakota. She’s been promoted to Secretary of Homeland Security, overseeing ICE, CBP, and FEMA. She’s already begun reshaping disaster policy and immigration enforcement with the cold efficiency of someone who never cared about the human cost. She’s toured detention centers abroad and proposed funneling more power and funding into the machine that’s already killing people. This is the woman now in charge of protecting the homeland—and she’s treating it like a battlefield.

And Stephen Miller—the alabaster goblin behind Trump’s first wave of xenophobic terror—is back inside the West Wing as Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy and Homeland Security Advisor. He is not hiding. He is not softening. He is laying the groundwork for mass deportations, family separations, and the total militarization of immigration enforcement. Miller’s strategy is simple: flood the system, break it, and make cruelty look like order.

This isn’t mismanagement. This isn’t politics. This is state-sanctioned human suffering.

ICE has 46,269 people in custody—far above its legal bed count of 41,500. Congress just rewarded them with another $430 million. Detention centers are overflowing. Guards are whispering, “It shouldn’t be like this.” But they keep turning the key. They keep locking the doors.

Because this system wasn’t designed to rehabilitate. It wasn’t designed to deter. It was designed to break people.

And it’s working.

CORPORATE PROFITEERS OF THE GULAG

Akima Infrastructure Protection—remember that name. That’s the private contractor running Krome under a $685 million federal contract. Your tax dollars. Your country. Your name on the invoice. And Akima didn’t just ignore the reports of overcrowding, abuse, and death—they didn’t even respond. Because they don’t have to. In America’s immigration gulag system, accountability is optional, profits are mandatory.

Akima isn’t alone. The privatized detention racket is a booming business. The worse the conditions, the higher the margins. More detainees equals more beds, more guards, more federal payouts. These aren’t just prison contractors—they’re war profiteers in a domestic war against the poor, the brown, the undocumented, and the disposable.

And while three human beings die in government cages in thirty goddamn days, ICE puts out a statement saying they can’t verify the abuse without the women’s names. That’s like watching a house burn down and saying you can’t help unless the flames file a formal request.

What ICE really means is this: unless you hand us their names, we can’t retaliate.

FEAR, SILENCE, AND THE NEW AMERICAN NIGHTMARE

These women are afraid to speak because they know what happens to people who tell the truth in a system built to erase them. Their fear isn’t paranoia. It’s wisdom. Because in Trump’s America, the immigration system is no longer civil. It’s punitive, predatory, and lethal.

And while this slow-motion horror show unfolds behind steel bars and security checkpoints, the rest of the country scrolls past it—too tired, too numb, too wrapped in talking points to see what’s right in front of them:

The United States is running concentration camps again.

Not in secret. Not in shadows. In Miami. In Arizona. In Texas. With full congressional funding. With bipartisan indifference. With the open approval of a political movement that cheers cruelty like it’s patriotism.

And unless we name it, scream it, and rage against it, it’s only going to get worse.

Because this administration has made it clear: they don’t want to fix the system. They want to break more people. Faster. Cheaper. Louder.

And if that means more body bags? So be it. To them, that’s not a failure.

It’s the plan working exactly as intended.

WHAT THE HELL DO WE DO?

We stop pretending this is normal. We stop calling it a “broken system” and start calling it what it is: a weapon.

We hold the names. We name the dead. We say Genry. Serawit. Maksym. Not as footnotes, but as proof that silence is complicity.

We pressure Congress to defund ICE, to end private detention contracts, to shut down Krome and every facility like it. We demand independent investigations, criminal accountability, and media that covers these stories like lives are on the line—because they are.

We support immigrant-led organizations. We raise hell at town halls. We show up with signs, with lawsuits, with cameras, with righteous fury. We flood their offices. We write until our fingers bleed. We organize, we protest, we resist.

And if you’re in a position of power—if you’re a staffer, an attorney, a journalist, a human being with a platform—you use it. This is not a drill. This is not a moment to stay neutral.

The machine is killing people. The people running it are proud of that. And history will not forgive anyone who stood by and watched.

Raise your voice. Wreck their silence. And don’t stop until the cages are empty.

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

Hey, so I am currently dealing with a really horrible situation. Trigger warning for emotional manipulation

.

.

.

.

.

Basically, I had a fight with my mom and stepdad 2 summers ago. I tried to stand up for myself, and they freaked out. They basically tried to victim-blame me and gave me the silent treatment. They told me I had to apologize for their reaction. I did, but it was the emptiest apology I've ever given. I didn't mean it at all.

Fast forward to now, I have moved out and I told them I needed some space since they were helping me with setting up my place, and it was uncomfortable for me. I think I felt uncomfortable because they have continued to ignore the fight we had, and are just acting like it's fine. And also, I felt weird they were doing all this work, painting and setting up lights.

I told them I needed space, and they said it was convenient timing that we just finished painting. My mom sent me a literal spreadsheet of things I had to reimburse her for, while also saying she felt like I used her. Which I did not. I feel upset that she thinks our spending time together was me using her. Like I would buy her lunch. I bought all the paint and stuff. It was a fun project we were doing together. But I just grew increasingly more uncomfortable. I did consider asking someone else to help, but I thought she would be offended and say, "I can do it. Don't waste your money hiring someone."

But it's really not about the painting. She's just shifting the blame off of how she treated me. She's not taking accountability for the actual harm this has caused me.

She basically is treating me like she's a collections agency, collecting invoices. I'm the one who feels used and discarded. And violated.

I feel awful. Like I completely messed everything up. And I know I did the right thing logically by creating this boundary, but I feel like I've ruined my life.

And I don't know how to make this better. I feel like I've done everything I can to advocate for myself. And now it's time to step back. But it also feels like my support system has been ripped from me.

I'd appreciate it if you had any advice. I'm not really sure what else to do.

As unfortunate as it is, some people are not going to acknowledge and face how they hurt you let alone apologize and change their behavior. When it comes to dealing with those people, the solution is usually to avoid them as much as possible, to keep any unavoidable interactions short and superficial, and to prioritize relationships with people who are meeting you halfway and treating you right

[scbhagat]

GST Accountants in Delhi by SC Bhagat & Co.

Are you looking for trusted GST accountants in Delhi to manage your tax compliance and GST filings seamlessly? Look no further than SC Bhagat & Co., a renowned chartered accountancy firm with decades of experience in delivering precise, professional, and timely GST solutions for businesses of all sizes.

Why GST Accounting Matters

Since the implementation of the Goods and Services Tax (GST) in India, businesses have had to adapt to a unified indirect tax regime. Navigating the GST system involves multiple tasks including:

GST registration

Timely GST return filings (GSTR-1, GSTR-3B, GSTR-9, etc.)

Input Tax Credit (ITC) reconciliation

E-way bill and e-invoice compliance

GST audit and annual return preparation

Dealing with notices from GST authorities

To handle all these effectively, having a reliable and knowledgeable GST accountant becomes crucial.

GST Services Offered by SC Bhagat & Co.

At SC Bhagat & Co., we provide end-to-end GST services tailored to your business requirements. Our experienced team of GST accountants in Delhi ensures that your compliance is error-free, timely, and in line with the latest amendments.

1. GST Registration & Advisory

We help new businesses get GST registration quickly and offer consulting on applicable tax structures.

2. Monthly/Quarterly GST Filing

Our team ensures accurate and timely submission of GSTR-1, GSTR-3B, and other applicable forms to avoid penalties.

3. Input Tax Credit (ITC) Optimization

We conduct ITC audits and help you maximize your credit claims with proper reconciliation.

4. GST Audit & Annual Return

We assist with GSTR-9 and GSTR-9C filings and conduct GST audits as per legal mandates.

5. Handling GST Notices

Have you received a GST notice? Our team responds to GST queries and notices with complete documentation support.

6. Industry-Specific GST Solutions

Whether you're in e-commerce, manufacturing, real estate, or services—our accountants are equipped with domain-specific GST knowledge.

Why Choose SC Bhagat & Co.?

✔ Over 20 Years of Experience ✔ Registered Chartered Accountants with In-Depth GST Knowledge ✔ PAN-India Clientele ✔ Transparent Pricing & Customized Packages ✔ Dedicated Support for SMEs and Startups

We pride ourselves on providing accurate, timely, and ethical GST accounting services in Delhi. Our goal is to help you stay compliant while you focus on growing your business.

Who Needs GST Accounting Services?

Startups and new businesses

Small and Medium Enterprises (SMEs)

E-commerce sellers

Exporters & Importers

Service providers with interstate operations

Any business with GST obligations

Get in Touch with the Best GST Accountants in Delhi

If you’re seeking reliable GST accountants in Delhi, connect with SC Bhagat & Co. for a free consultation. Whether you need help with monthly filings, audits, or notice handling, we ensure hassle-free compliance and peace of mind.

Let SC Bhagat & Co. be your trusted partner for GST compliance!

FAQs

Q1: Do I need a GST accountant even if I file returns online myself? Yes. A professional accountant ensures accuracy, maximizes your ITC, and avoids legal penalties.

Q2: How often do I need to file GST returns? Generally, GST returns are filed monthly (GSTR-1, GSTR-3B) and annually (GSTR-9, GSTR-9C).

Q3: What happens if I miss a GST return deadline? You may face interest and late fees. Our accountants help you stay on track and avoid such situations.

Boost your tax compliance and save time with SC Bhagat & Co.—the top GST accountants in Delhi.