#thinking of getting a tattoo of the company logo

[basedboygirlboss]

facing the music that the family business will be out of business come the end of this year. been managing those emotions quite well up until just now when I found out that someone tossed a bunch of records that proved all of the cool shit this company use to do because we, and I quote “won’t be needing them ever again.”

at least “Manfred Head” the machine wax head is safe.

#vent post #i'm gonna drag those yellow chairs straight out of the eighties home from the breakroom and nobody is gonna stop me #the building owners are already starting to renovate for the new renters #makes me a little sick seeing the walls of the back offices being knocked down #thinking of getting a tattoo of the company logo

[thanksjro]

Transformers Holiday Special (2015) — Wishing You and Yours a Delightfully Secular Wintertime, Containing Absolutely Zero References to the Birth of Christ

Despite what some might like to think, Christmas isn’t for everyone; even with all the commercialization, at its heart, it’s still about the Baby Jesus. You can tell that we haven’t shaken the Christian connection, because the cover for this special issue has the father, the son, and the holy spirit, which is hidden behind the company logo.

And if Rodimus doesn’t stop screwing around, his resurrection’s gonna have to happen a lot sooner than Easter.

Because this is a comic special, things are going to be a little different. Instead of one standard-size issue, we’re getting three mini-stories, each with their own writer (from each of the comic runs that were publishing at the time) and artist. Our stories are listed here:

Don’t worry about what Ultra Magnus is up to behind that text.

Now, you may ask, why on earth am I covering this issue, which is a specifically Christmassy one, now, when it’s not currently Christmas? Well, according to Roberts, the story “Silent Light” takes place after MTMTE #49, and #50 is when the crew manifest for the Lost Light gets shaved down some, so realistically, this is when “Silent Light” happens in continuity. So I want you to keep in mind that Getaway’s Christmas isn’t going so great.

I won’t be going back to catch up on the other runs’ plots, as the Christmas stories are stand-alone.

Getting into it, our first story is:

Penned by Mairghread Scott and drawn by Corin Howell. We open up on a cityscape featuring a happy sun and some eye-searing narration boxes.

I went to Howell’s Twitter to see what her deal was, and was greeted with a banner consisting of a sexy succubus lady with her boobies out, so I’m going to assume she simplified her style for this issue, since mecha are hella difficult to draw.

Also, I hope you like the structure of How The Grinch Stole Christmas!, because that’s what we’re getting for the next little while, complete with chunky, white text on painful-to-view red.

Our story opens with all the transformers from the colonies visiting Cybertron and making friends with each other. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts, which pisses off President-King Starscream to no end. Being the drama queen that he is, Starscream feels that everyone should be paying attention to him 24/7 and feed him grapes as he reclines on a sofa, because hasn’t he done enough for all these sorry sacks of shit? He hasn’t even caused a war, unlike the last guy who was in charge. Bumblebee (who is a ghost) tells him to just be fucking nice for once in his miserable life, but Starscream wouldn’t be Starscream if he could settle down like that.

Our god-king of the planet calls for his aide, Rattrap, who is going to be in his alt mode for the entirety of this story, to help him set up for a public broadcast addressing his need for attention and adoration.

He sends Rattrap off to deliver the tape to the news, which seems to consist of two very sleep-deprived individuals. Because they’re apparently the only two robots stupid enough to attempt to cover the nightmare hellscape that is Cybertronian current events, the last bit of Starscream’s tape is cut off when one of them falls asleep on the switchboard. This turns Starscream’s personal worship holiday into “For the Love of God Be Nice to Each Other” Day. Everyone takes to it beautifully, getting BFF tattoos, going on vacation with their husbands, hugging in the straightest gay way possible, holding parades, giving each other bombs, and getting absolutely shitfaced.

Starscream, distraught that nobody is giving him the emperor treatment like he had wanted, sulks in his twin bed, then moves to his dinky little throne as the night wears on, making the most miserable faces he can the whole time. Eventually, Chosen One Day ends, and he’s been completely ignored. Very sad.

Then, there’s a knock on his door, and Starscream creeps over to the peephole just in time to be smashed flat by Wheeljack slamming the door open. Last time we saw Wheeljack he was assumed dead by most, and floating in a tank at Starscream’s behest. He’s gotten better since then, clearly.

Wheeljack came with friends— the entirety of the main cast for Windblade/Til All Are One, to be exact— and they’re here to make sure that Starscream isn’t completely alone on this friendship holiday he accidentally invented. Everyone toasts to his good, totally intentional idea, and Starscream decides against killing all of them for at least the next 24 hours.

Now pay attention to this next story, because it’s actually canon-relevant, because of course Roberts would write a holiday special mini-comic that ties into his overarching plot. Fucking nerd.

Our artist for “Silent Light” is Kotteri (or Kotteri!, as it’s been written on some of their other publications) the pen name for Ikumi Fukuda. Kotteri is primarily a manga artist, having created their own works and well as working on other projects. I admittedly can’t find much on this person, not even their preferred pronouns, TFWiki itself using “they”, which I will default to. All of the info they’ve provided themself is, of course, written in Japanese, but even running things through a translator only proves that information to be purely professional. Their personal Twitter is protected, and my follow request was never answered, as far as I know. There’s a fan Twitter account for their art that claims “she”, but I have no way to verify, and I don’t want to assume anything based on art style, because that’s sort of shitty. Let it never be said that I didn’t do my due diligence here— I fucking hate using Twitter.

We open with Rodimus having just returned from Meteorfest, a festival where you surf on meteors and avoid your co-captain and SIC’s calls like the putz you are. He’s greeted by said co-captain and SIC decorating assembling a Christmas tree cloaking machine and finishing each other’s sentences like an old married couple. Rodimus tries to deny the existence of Minimegs, then we get our heavy-handed and lampshaded explanation for the crux of the issue. Megatron handles Minimus like a baby doll as the two of them explain that the Lost Light is about to hit Mauler territory.

Maulers are notorious for wanting the Cybertronians dead, but Megatron is too much of a macho man to pussy out and go around them. So instead, the crew will be hiding in special sleeping pods that will mask their spark signatures, and pray to their pantheon of gods that no one notices the ship the size of Manhattan. Brainstorm has like fifteen new inventions, despite being on house arrest from his lab. Megatron’s autobot badge is wearing a hat. Merry fucking Christmas.

Over at Swerve’s, it would appear that everyone’s favorite television junkie is closed for business, as it’s just him, Nautica, and Whirl, sitting on the floor getting absolutely shit-faced on subspace-filtered engex. This might’ve been an issue, as folks are supposed to be bedding down in their B.E.D.s for the next leg of the trip, but Swerve slipped Magnus some Bing Crosby earlier so they’re cool right now.

There’s a banging at the door, and Whirl decides to answer, even though it’s not his bar, because if it’s trouble come a-knocking, it was probably looking for Whirl anyhow.

When Whirl answers, however, it’s not Magnus having caught wind of Nautica disrespecting the Autobot code, but an entirely different flavor of problem.

Now, I know that thing Whirl’s holding looks like a fucked up Hitachi Wand, but it is, in fact, an entire-ass baby robot. It seems that when Cerebros (Fortress Maximus’s friend, if you’ll recall) sent the engex through the subspace, this infant Cybertronian (Luna One-ian?) got mixed in with the other supplies.

We learn a bit about how baby Cybertronians work before we remember, oh right, this kid is gonna get everyone killed if they catch wind of her spark, since there isn’t a B.E.D. for her. Yes, it’s a girl! Congrats to our three idiots on their Cybertronian gender non-conforming little princess.

They gang decides to shunt her back through the subspace hatch, so they head over to where it’s currently being housed— the office of Ultra Magnus. Nautica, using her wits and all the tools in her arsenal, smashes the window to the office and they break in. The empty Magnus Armor sits in the dark like a grim monument to being married to your job. Whirl informs Nautica how to comfort the baby that he super for-sure doesn’t care about, handing her off while he uses his titty glass to replace the window in the door. Swerve tries to bite through iron chains holding the subspace hatch hostage, only to be stopped by the sound of justice coming down the hall.

The gang, of course, looks suspicious as hell standing stock straight immediately in front of Magnus’s office, but Minimus rather likes the change of pace out of these goofy morons, and is maybe also trying to deflect his embarrassment at being caught performing his own personal karaoke. He sends them off to their B.E.D.s, and it looks like all’s well that ends well until Whirl asks where Sparky is.

Yes, he named the baby.

Don’t worry though, he’s totally not attached or whatever.

Nautica, in her panic to not be caught stealing/vandalizing/using equipment she doesn’t have the clearance for, stuffed Sparky in the Magnus Armor. And also put the helmet portion back on the body, for some reason. Anyway, it looks like our little princess is gonna be a load-bearer when she grows up, because Magnus is up and looking for hugs. Nautica, a paragon of level-headed thinking in times of crisis, handles this in the best way she can.

And that’s a wrap on Minimus Ambus! Let’s give him a hand, folks! And let’s also give a hand to the new Ultra Magnus, Miss Sparky Whirldòttir! Where did that little scamp get to, anyhow?

Swerve nominates himself to be the one to drag Minimus to a B.E.D. to sleep off his concussion, leaving Whirl and Nautica to track down the baby.

The scene changes to Megatron announcing a last call for beddy-bye time on the intercom, just as Ultra Sparky enters the room. She looms over Megatron, putting him in a very compromising position as he hits the intercom button with his arm. Rodimus, climbing into his own B.E.D., wishes that his co-captain and SIC would stop being gay for, like, five minutes, or at least wouldn’t do it where it can be broadcasted throughout the whole ship in audio format.

Whirl and Nautica come save Megatron from the onslaught of physical affection, stating that “Magnus” has had a bit too much to drink. Megatron orders them to bed from his fetal position on the countertop.

It’s bedtime, but we still haven’t figured out how to get the kid back to Luna 1 so the Maulers don’t super-murder the whole crew. Nautica leaves Whirl to figure it out, getting into B.E.D. and wondering who the fuck knocked on the door in the first place. Whirl tells her not to worry about it and to go to sleep, so he can be the one to deal with this mess.

Whirl, notorious for doing all the nastiest jobs— former Wrecker, intended bullet sponge for the time travel situation, attempting suicide via Megatron— is going to add another tally to the list labeled “Reasons My Peers Don’t Really Like Me All That Much”, by throwing an entire baby out the air lock.

However, Whirl is being written by Roberts, who would never allow the number of robot babies to go down, so Sparky’s adorable assimilation of Whirl’s signature physical features gets him right in the soft underbelly he swears doesn’t exist.

Wow, Roberts put a baby in that robot. Surely this is as overt as we’re going to get with this imagery, since we’re in a major publication and not some fan-fiction!

ANYWAY

Whirl wakes up in the Medibay, emptied of infant and freaked the hell out about it. Velocity— who I will remind you is basically the only medical doctor on the Lost Light, since everyone else is too busy getting railed by weeaboos and joining unethical polycules to do their actual jobs—informs him that his daughter is, in actuality, a massive colony of scraplets that combined to look like a newborn.

It turns out that Nautica is a bit of a snitch, having spilled the beans after she woke up. Whether or not she thought Whirl had thrown the baby out the air lock isn’t really addressed, but thank god he didn’t, because then we would have had to send everyone’s favorite gun-addled dipshit to jail for the rest of forever. Checking security footage revealed who the mystery knocker was— it was the scraplets, forming the shape of an arm.

When Nautica asks how the hell they all survived this, seeing as Whirl kept the murder baby, Whirl informs her that he cut off power to his own spark to allow everyone else to live, including his sweet baby princess, winning him a #1 Dad mug, and also several emails from Rung to please make an appointment with him.

Whirl’s miracle Christmas baby lied and stole with the intent to murder everyone on board, and that makes her the ultimate daddy’s girl.

I hope you’ve all enjoyed this canon-important holiday special story about Whirl becoming a father.

In our third and final story, it appears we’ve been transported to Whoville, by the talent of our MTMTE Season 1 colorist, Josh Burcham. Within Whoville resides Anna Log, a human woman who owns two turbofoxes and sleeps in full military body armor on her couch. The wall in her living room suddenly explodes, revealing a late-night visitor.

Motherfucker, you are supposed to be on the ship right now.

Mega-Claus fusion-cannons Anna Log, and we cut to a film noir office where none other than Thundercracker has his feet up on the desk. The art grayscales for this section, as he narrates that he’s a detective. He’s wearing a fedora. It’s January 7th. He has a mysterious past and probably thinks that makes him very sexy.

The phone rings, cueing Buster, Thundercracker’s puggle, to put on her own fedora, and the two go to see the crime scene, where Thundercracker is the same size as a normal human man and wears a trench coat.

It turns out that Anna Log is the director of security for the entirety of planet Earth, which is sort of a big deal. When Thundercracker and the cops look at the security footage, they see who did it— Santa Claus, played by Megatron himself. Fucked up.

Sure, pal.

Thundercracker must now fly to the North Pole and kill Santa, because that’s how the law works. He transforms, flies by Club Penguin and a Coke commercial, reflects on his job, and then gets ready for a fight with Santa’s security measures, as Busters glowing nose warns him of incoming danger. She’s very talented, Buster.

Thundercracker makes quick work of the cybernetic security reindeer with his twin energy katanas and Buster’s jetpack. He kicks down Santa’s door to find the jolly elf himself standing in the dark, potentially rabid. The two start kung-fu beating the shit out of each other. It should be noted that this Santa isn’t the Megatron Santa, who shows up behind the two as they brawl, but rather original-flavor fat man Santa. How Thundercracker didn’t notice this isn’t addressed.

Thundercracker demands to know why Megatron dressed up as Santa Claus to commit a murder— the murder part made sense, Director Log and Megatron would be diametrically opposed— and Megatron reveals the greatest slight against himself he’s ever known.

Framing Santa for murder ain’t exactly gonna turn that coal into a diamond, Meggy baby.

Thundercracker clocks Megatron, he becomes besties with Santa Claus, and they ride a flying tank into the sunset. Thus ends Thundercracker’s most brilliant writing project yet, which he was reading to Marissa Faireborn this entire time.

Marissa isn’t terribly impressed, poking holes in all the little nonsense bits, while also not feeling thrilled about having been killed off in the first two pages of Thundercracker’s book. While the two argue, Buster and Ayana Jones make a Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown! reference together, and the issue closes out with a big ol’ Autobot symbol, even though Thundercracker was a Decepticon, Ayana and Marissa are humans, and Buster is a goddamned dog.

Thus ends the Holiday Special. Up next, more direct story progression!

#transformers #MTMTE #holiday special #jro punches me in the face #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

[myobsessionsspace]

Nah cuz when I joined the Fandom, I saw everyone saying it's members + Fandom.. that J is Jin Jhope and J M is Jimin. So i thought ok... 🤷‍♀️.

Then I saw jkkrs proving he didn't had J when he first got tattoos. And how he doesn't cover it unlike crown tattoo and how it's a bit darker than rest. So I was kinda convinced JM is just JiMin.. based on their evidences n how Fandom always used to read JM as JiMin (which stopped when he confirmed its not for all members lol). Didn't thought about darkened letters much as rest might have ve faded due to boxing.

This year, he said J is simply for Jungkook. I was a lil sad given I used to think it's Jimin for almost 3 years lol..but whatever, I respect and believe what he said. So seeing this 2018 incident didn't shook me much because Jimin might be playing around drawing a fist while it had nothing to do with real tattoos.

But every now and then, the only doubt I get is why J ? Not company, not members, not fans, not himself use J to represent himself.. it's ALWAYS been JK. He's JK, not J. So I'm confused why he'll randomly throw a J on top of M on a fine morning.. if he wanted, he could've just tattooed JK somewhere near bts logo or debut date tattoos lol. And to make me even confused, I KNOW a person who's acronym is JM... which is especially used by JK 👀

Idk... 🙂

Anon🗣️

I’m with you!

I’m never gonna call Kookie a liar. Point blank period.

I will call Kookie smart, I will say he’s got more to protect and is not a newbie in the industry.

For as much as he tries to be honest and open with us, he’s still a grown man who has to protect him and his. He’s entitled to chose what he doesn’t and doesn’t want to share.

We take the answers he gives us, but questions, we can still have questions right?? 😁

💜

#Tin Foil Hat: Jikook #Anonymous Asks #Jikook #Jimin #Jungkook #Kookmin #Minkook

[det-loki]

A messy collection of my thoughts and theories for episodes one and two of 'a murder at the end of the world' :

• starting off with The Doors, already a yes from me

• this is my, hmm, sixth rewatch of both episodes? maybe more? Anyway, darby is warm colors, bill is cool. love this detail.

• The Silver Doe, silver earrings. I'm convinced Darby's earring means something. I've seen others speculate that it's reference to a hourglass. it's also similar to the logo of Andy's company.

• We meet Bill in the motel room and that is when I immediately knew I was a goner for this story. sue me, Harris Dickinson is handsome. I also love his terrible haircut

• Harris and Emma's chemistry is INSANE

• "Lee. She doesn't need my help." Oh, but maybe she does Darby. I don't trust Lee's husband in any way, shape or form

• When Darby stumbles down the (poorly made) stairs and bill asks her if she's alright? listen, i love them a whole lot. even if it's common decency to ask

• creepy fucking basement.

• bill protecting darby. BILL PROTECTING DARBY!!!

• was bill shot? did the person shoot themselves?

• I feel like importance of tattoos and meaning might come into play (darby looking at crime scene photos but also bill's and darby's)

• also during the scene where darby is being messaged by Andy's assistant, someone on reddit theorized that the letters on darbys open tabs are a code. Maybe?

• The health check before boarding the plane is raising red flags for me. Mainly the cheek swab. I dunno

• Alice Braga! You gorgeous human

• Martin reading Darby's book right in front of her is a little bit strange for a multitude of reasons but I'm definitely reading too much into most of my thoughts about it

• Darby's attention to detail is so good and such a wonderful element, considering the storyline

• Grimes.

• The closeup on Martin's nightmare on the plane. Obviously a deliberate camera choice. But whyyyy

• Flashback to Bill in the bath. I assume it's after they were confronted with the gun. Bloody rags and dirty water, Bill seems physically okay. previous point, was he shot?

• "I think this is both too much and not enough."

• Camera/Darby lingers on fisherman.

• Ray makes me nervous

• Oxygen tank to Lee's room. Strange. Food to Lee's room that Zoomer accepts, strange. Lee cleaning up the broken glass and making eye contact with Darby. very strange.

• The deep fake talk with Oliver about how you can make anyone say anything will definitely come back later. isn't audio recorded in every room or did I misunderstood that in ep 2?

• Lee and Andy are not selling me on a happy marriage. Back to maybe Lee does need Darby's help.

• Bill appearing at dinner. Was he late or early? the way bill and darby look at one another make me melt

• Also, as Bill sits down, Sian says 'definitely not him' meaning Andy didn't invite him, Lee did. And we later learn that Lee and Bill knew eachother. (how tf did darby not know that if she is such a fan of Lee. WHAT DOES IT ALL MEANNN)

• The lighting plays a huge roll. The halos above Darby and Bill at dinner

• I too would choke after seeing bill again for the first time in six years

• Lee's toast, 'to finding a way out.' And then Andy saying, 'together.' ???

• Zoomer. Robot child? Bill's kid? strange little dude nonetheless. (Zoomer doesn't/can't eat. Lee and Andy looking at one another while Zoomer and Bill play. darbys smile as she watches them. then the face bill makes after zoomer is called to sit down. and the way he responds to question of how old he is???)

• The pool scene. These people are so cliquey. yuck

• Darby punching bill and then immediately asking him for a drink. I get it. Also the way he looked at her after she punched him. Lovesick.

• Bill telling her how he loved her book, oh my God. "Really tough and fragile at the same time" fucking incredible line.

• Bill and Darby flirting

• "I need to tell you something." Insert Jennifer Lawrence clip, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

• Darby runs into Marius, the hotel manager when she goes to Bill's room. Suspect but maybe too obvious?

• Bill asking her to stay as he dies. Holding hands through the glass. Him smiling at her. It's all too much for me.

• So much blood for someone overdosing? Head wound.

Episode 2:

• Darby's book in Bill's room covered in blood. Is that Bill's copy or Martin's from the plane?

• Everyone is very insistent on getting Darby out of Bill's room.

• The tea going to Bill's room. More broken glass

• Lee comforting Darby is very nice

• Rohan (fisherman) is the only one visibly upset and reacting like a human being told about a death

• Andy and Sian are acting like Darby is overreacting about his cause of death

• Andy saying that bill wouldn't want them to go home and quit. Dude, you didn't know him. Kick rocks.

•  Again, Andy and Lee are giving me bad vibes. Lee fawns around him, he speaks over her/for her

• Lu Mei seems uncomfortable when she says she'll stay, seemingly intimated by Andy or fearful of his reaction if she did say she wanted to leave. Therefore I don't think anyone is comfortable going against him. Power imbalance. Darby seems to pick up on this

• Darby going to see Bill. Her frantically asking Ray questions with obvious answers but she craves the validation that she isn't wrong about what she suspects....I'm so sad

• Bill's tattoos are so interesting and I crave meaning

• "Someone killed you."

• My knowledge of injectable drugs all comes from 90s rock musicians, so take that as you will. The needle in Bill's room is the strangest thing I've ever seen. It looks like a diabetic tester needle. And no fingerprints.

• Lee also going to Bill's room. The plot thickens (I need to re-create her outfit in this episode it's so good)

• Is Lee telling the truth about what she was actually looking for? Also her giving Darby advice. I very much like them teaming up together

• "Don't get caught."

• Is it possible that Andy/the hotel is fielding the internet? like when darby can't look up a hack for the doorbell cam. is this an ignorant question? Perhaps.

• Darby and Bill flashback! when bill offers to come pick darby up and she immediately freaks out and runs away from the conversation...I have never felt more seen or understood. me too, girl, me too.

• Do Lee and Bill having matching line tattoos on their forearms???

• Happy birthday Darby 🥺🥺🥺

• 04/14/2017 Zoomer's birthday.

• Darby has doorbell cam footage. employees have towels. noted. David on a phonecall.  Bill 🥲 (not wearing his ring) Ziba hears something, looks frightened and leaves. Bill's door opens from in the inside, hallway wall is illuminated.

• Bill's smile when he meets Darby in person for the first time. I LOVE THEM!

• Creepy mask person, go away!

• the diner darby and bill meet at is called Ray's

• I believe in love at first sight because of them.

• Frank Ocean. That's all.

#a murder at the end of the world spoilers #a murder at the end of the world #bill farrah #darby hart #harris dickinson #emma corrin #brit marling

[kyoto-division]

“All things truly wicked start from innocence.”

Ernest Hemingway

Third member- Kanade Alarie

Kanade is the third and final member of Starlight specters. A rising star in the acting world she’s known as everyone’s favorite little sister among the residents of Kyoto.

General information

Name: Kanade Alarie

MC name: Spooky

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Blue & Purple

Height: 5’0

Scars: several on her stomach, five scars on each wrist, one on the back of her neck

Tattoos: None yet

Likes: Ghosts, her girlfriend, exploring abandoned buildings, her job

Dislikes:Thinking about the past too much, hospitals, the sight of her own blood

Personality

Kanade is an innocent seeming individual, often she’s seemed as childish by some people who haven’t known her for very long. Those who do know her seem to know a little better.

She’s a tad bit naive and unaware of how certain things work. She didn’t have the best of childhoods and thinks acting the way she does would make people happy. After all…she can be happy if other people are happy right?

Background

Kanade is the youngest child in her family. Her life wasn’t the best from the very beginning- her mother’s behavior hadn’t even hit its peak yet. She spent most of her life in the care of her older sibling who she lovingly referred to as her hero.

If you ask her about the trauma she suffered at the hands of her mother she’ll look at you funny. What trauma? She hardly remembers a thing! That’s a bold faced lie- she just doesn’t want to make you sad. She doesn’t want to admit that the memories of that hospital room keep her awake at night. She doesn’t want to admit that she knows she meant nothing to the woman who she was forced to call her mother.

Let’s not think of the sad. Let’s talk about her biggest passion in life- acting. She loved movies and stage plays from a young age- often being captivated by a certain actress from Gion division. She’s always been a member of any drama club her school offers.

The absolute joy from the crowd is what she loves the most.

For awhile she would hang around a small family owned shrine in Kyoto- her best friend was a shrine maiden named Mina. Eventually the two grew apart during the Darling Divaz era. Around this time she was also scouted by Mitsuru Kagome- a talent scout working for a company named KJ Entertainment.

Joining the starlight specters seemed to skyrocket Kanades career even further. Offers to act in movies and tv shows came in left and right. She also met her now girlfriend Criss Hiromi at the time.

Mic + Speakers

Kanades mic takes the form of a mic one would wear on your collar.

Her speakers take the form of a large coffin on the ground. The lid is open and three ghosts that bear an odd resemblance to the ghost in the groups logo.

Trivia

She’s confirmed to be a lesbian. She’s dating Criss Hiromi of Akihabara

Kanade is left handed

They use She/They pronouns

Kanade doesn’t have a very good sense of self worth

She sometimes gets nose bleeds at random

Kanade gets cuts and bruises with ease

Her bio mom is dead- she loves her adoptive mom more

Their best friend is Kanra Akemi from Edogawa division- the two often torment Jyuto Iruma together

#hypmic #hypmic oc #hypmic ocs #hypnosis mic oc #hypnosis microphone #kyoto division #starlight specters #kanade alarie

[ane-doodles]

Use this ask to talk about one of your OCs :D

phew! a late answer but it's finally here: I present to you AOI!

Name acrostic: Artificial Outperformer Inteligence

He is an oc (based on another personal oc) that I adapted for the DCA fandom. I had never shown it because I usually find it difficult to draw the "stilts" of its legs.

brief explanation: In this story we are placed before SB. AOI is a robot purchased by Fazco from another company that specializes in security (since their own advanced technology is more specialized in entertainment). It was not bought by their own decision, but they were forced by the constant complaints and requests of the workers who work with the animatronics. These workers, although they do not know the entire history of Fazber entertainment and others, do know how dangerous these intelligent animatronics can be and the damage they can cause if they fail, so they demanded as a security measure the purchase of a specialized robot. specifically not his own product.

AOI's main job is to keep workers safe during maintenance and repair hours, but it also has the purpose of keeping animatronics safe from employees who want to break them or infect them with a virus on purpose.

Some facts and data from AOI:

• In addition to protection, he is in charge of escorting the animatronics to P&S

• Sometimes he must recover staff-bots or small cleaning robots from spaces in which they get stuck.

• Their design is based on the appearance of a samurai, and as the name might indicate, the company that sells them is from the other side of the world.

• AOI has detention protocols for each animatronic (image below right). Basically he knows the weak points of each design and can use them if necessary.

• In addition to the AOI protocols, it has electrical conductors in both hands, which give a kind of electric shock that serves to paralyze both humans and animatronics.

• AOI's leg stilts are used to reach high places, run very fast, and maintain balance in confined or narrow spaces, such as ceiling joists.

• AOI is forbidden to be seen during Pizza Plex's opening hours, so he stays hidden. Some people have managed to see it for moments and there is a rumor of the existence of a "secret company animatronic".

• The workers at the Pizza plex love and treat AOI as a kind of mascot. AOI is able to hold logical conversations and is usually pleasant

• AOI, on the other hand, is not highly appreciated among animatronics (except for staff-bots and cleaning robots that have him as a hero). Most avoid it when they see it

• Having an equally advanced AI AOI was also interested in "being friends" with the glamrocks, but it seems that it is not possible

• Bonnie was the only one who was able to hold calm conversations with AOI.

•AOI also has a security protocol against intruders. In addition to using the electronic shock, he has the command to lock the invader in an office and give a report to the employees the next morning.

• AOI's jaw is locked, but he can sometimes open it and break the lock.

• The robe that AOI wears is a kind of haori, and he uses it to cover the logo of the company that created it (Fazco's policies).

• When one of the animatronics refuses to accompany him to maintenance, he has the mission to "hunt" them. He doesn't really like to do that, but he knows it's his job.

• His head works as a kind of light screen where his protocols and "false eyes" are reflected.

• AOI likes tattoos, but can't have them, so instead he gets small stickers to use as replacements.

• AOI is deeply interested in learning about the daycare and its attendants who rarely require maintenance...

Tbh I don't have a specific story for him, but I did have in mind a few scenes and interactions from AOI, the animatronics, Eclipse and the DCAs (here they are separated). I think at some point I even considered pairing him... but it never got very far.

I hope you liked it

#fnaf sb au #AOI robot oc #oc ane yay! #info dump #fnaf sb oc

[starkerhowlter]

DeskWarmer

Ship: Starker Rating: Nc-17 (E) Contains: Cockwarming, Technical exhibitionism, Casual use of toys, namecalling, daddy kink, begging, crying Words: 1739 Summary: "Alright, baby, but I have to get back to work so I can't give you my full attention. You'll have to be like a little rent-a-slut at my desk and keep me company."

Read it on AO3

Dedicated to @endgame-ironspider who sent to the Super Starkers Discord "cockwarming cockwarming cockwARMING COCKWARMING" at like 3 am one April night. This is the result. Hope you love it! unbeta'd, any mistakes are my own

The keys jingle in the front door when Peter turns the lock. The sound of the Scantron machine echoes in his head, the repetitive biting of the machine everywhere there's a missed answer. He gently places his backpack down on the bench in the foyer and walks upstairs. The smell of Tony's cologne lingers in the air mixed with the other smells ranging from cigarettes to gunpowder. Peter's head hurts. The stimulus from the world around him is too much, he needs his one solace -- he needs Tony.

He opens the door to their shared bedroom suite and fights the urge to collapse on the bed and wrap the duvets around himself. The older's t-shirt and jeans still lay on the floor next to the bed, a single remaining symbol of the nights before. He longs for that again. The solace that's found in the man's smell and warmth, the feeling of fullness that only he can provide. Peter's trance is broken, however, when he hears Tony's voice travelling from somewhere else in the house. He sounds stressed, anxious, and as though he's also longing for Peter. The younger's eyes flutter shut briefly, muscles threatening to give out at any moment. Instead of indulging his body's cries, he elects to open the drawer on the black chest of drawers underneath the mounted TV. Inside is most of the clothes Tony has selected for him when he feels like this. Soft silks, fluffy sweaters, worn through band tees that have been washed one too many times. He finds a black oversize t-shirt that hangs loose on Tony as well and lays it on the bed. The red flecks of a long-gone logo stare back at him as he strips off his t-shirt and jeans from school and changes into the shirt, not bothering to find a pair of pants before leaving the room.

Peter pads down the hallway, pausing momentarily at the foot of the staircase, nodding at Sam and Bucky guarding the door. The two nod back, permitting him upstairs. Not like their approval would have mattered either way. He hears the sound again, Tony's exasperated laugh coming from behind the large Macassar door. Peter decides it's unnecessary to knock and opens the door slowly. Tony is deep in conversation, brow furrowed at the two people sitting opposite his desk. He recognizes one instantly, Natasha Romanoff with her sub sat at her feet. The other, however, is a complete stranger.

Without a word, Tony glances at the boy and makes a slight come hither movement with his fingers which draws Peter in before he can think twice. He continues listening to the two people, as his young boyfriend sits on his lap and nuzzles into his neck, sighing with relief at the sudden dulling of his senses.

"What do you mean you can't do anything about it?!" Tony asks, ringed hand rising to wrap around the boy's hips, raising the shirt slightly and giving the two people opposite of him a view of the flower tattoo on Peter's thigh.

"I'm sorry, sir. We've tried everything," The unknown man speaks, trying desperately to not show his anxiety.

"Well, Mr Barton, I think we're done here. I advise you to leave before I lose my temper. Send Barnes in." Tony dismisses him with a wave of his left hand, sending the blonde man scurrying out of the room. He continues his conversation with Natasha as he slips his right hand underneath the shirt, fingers playing with the edge of the lace underwear Peter had selected last minute.

"Sir, I--" Natasha begins but stops when Tony raises his left hand and dismisses her.

As soon as she's standing, he turns his attention to the young boy on his lap. "Hi, baby boy. How was your day?"

"It was awful," Peter sighs, dropping his head back down onto the man's shoulder, "There was so much going on and so much to do, I was overwhelmed all day and there were so many sounds and stimuli and..."

"Shhhhh," Tony soothes, running his fingers under the hip band of the lacey panties, "You're away from there now. Would you like to relax? I know you've been missing being full all day."

"No, I haven't," Peter confesses, shifting his hips.

"No?" The man squints slightly, running his hand lower down, moving the undergarment out of the way and poking where the boy's hole should be. Instead of the feeling of skin against his fingertips, he feels the end of a smooth metal object. "Aww, baby, what's this?" Tony wraps his fingers around the end, pulling at it slightly, revelling in the wrecked sound that leaves Peter's mouth, hot breath against his ear.

"W-wanted to try it as stress relief while I was testing. Hoping that maybe it would trick my brain into thinking I was here with you? I even wore your favourite panties and polo to class, hoping it would work.

"And did it?"

"No. It just made me more desperate," Peter confesses, grinding down against the plug and whimpering pathetically.

"Want me to fix that?" Tony asks, removing his hand and unzipping his jeans.

"Please, daddy," Peter begs, whimpering and pressing kisses to the older's jaw. The man smiles, feeling merciful today. He touches the rim of the toy, pulling gently, revelling in the soft noise it makes when it fully is removed. He runs his free hand's fingers through Peter's hair as he opens the desk drawer and removes a small bottle of lube.

"You sure you want this, sweetheart? You know it won't be private. I need you to be okay with it. We can go downstairs if you aren't."

"It's okay, please just... I need it, Daddy, please. I have waited all day." Usually, it takes a lot to make Peter cry this early into sex, but currently, the tears streaming down his cheeks tell another story. "Please," he begs, shallow stuttering breaths ghosting Tony's neck.

"Alright, alright." He purrs, popping the cap of the tube and coating a few fingers. "Thank your lucky stars I'm feeling merciful today, baby boy." Peter whimpers desperately, and wriggles licking and biting at the column of Tony's neck, teeth touching just above the layered necklaces. "Fuck, sweetheart, you can't just decide to do that," Tony murmurs, moving his chin to see his hands. He spreads the lube over a few fingers and presses one to the boy's ass. "Ready sweetheart?"

"Fuck, yes. Please! You can do more than one, I'm stretched! I promise I can take it, Daddy, please just do it!" He presses down, trying to force the man's fingers inside and gasps out a whine when two fingers enter him.

"What a good boy you are," Tony purrs, pressing the third finger in alongside the other two. He begins spreading his fingers gently, revelling in the noises his boyfriend is letting escape.

"Oh, fuuuuuuuuuck," Peter moans, eyes pinched shut and head resting on Tony's shoulder. "More. Please," The younger whimpers a few minutes later, "Please, give me more, daddy I need it."

"Alright, baby, but I have to get back to work so I can't give you my full attention. You'll have to be like a little rent-a-slut at my desk and keep me company," Tony growls in the boy's ear, watching the notifications pop up on his starkpad. He's caught off guard by the punched-out sound the boy releases. "What was that baby? Do you like the idea of that? Wanna be my little toy and keep Daddy's cock warm while he works?"

The softest sound in the room feels like the loudest to Peter's ears as the zipper on tony's black chinos moves over each tooth. The man moves the boy's panties aside and presses the tip of his dick against Peter's stretched hole. Peter gasps, head lolling back as he sinks down onto his boyfriend. The younger fingers grasp at the back of Tony's leather jacket, whimpering under his breath at the feeling of fullness he's craved all day.

"Perfect little thing, aren't you?" Tony purrs, running his fingers through Peter's hair. "You're taking daddy's cock so perfectly. It's like you were... fuck... like you were made just for me." The younger whimpers into the man's ear as he sinks down further, taking Tony's cock deeper, "Aww, do you like that idea? Being made just for me? My own perfect little slut? Wishing I made you in the lab so that all you could be reduced to is a personal toy? A custom object I made just for my own pleasure?" Peter nods, wordlessly, trying to push further downward, but the discomfort stops him. Tony's voice softens instantly, "Woah woah woah! Hey, you may want to be a toy but you're not. You know better than to force it. I don't want you to be sore. C'mon, Peter, you're smarter than this. Slow down."

"Yes, Daddy. Sorry I got too eager." Peter whimpers. Tony picks up the bottle of lube and spreads more over the remaining length of his dick, slipping a finger in alongside the few inches connecting him to Peter. Tony groans softly, grabbing at his hips through the black shirt, helping the boy to steady himself as he takes more.

"It's alright, you're just a greedy baby. Already too cock-drunk to make smart decisions. All you can think about is getting Daddy's cock into your ass and nothing else. Just a desperate little slut. MY desperate little slut." Tony emphasizes the last sentence by running a finger against the vein on the underside of the boy's dick, revelling in the broke sob he receives in return. "Such a good boy aren't you?"

"Yes, Daddy! Your good boy!" he whines as he fully seats himself on the man's cock. Peter whimpers, curling his head against Tony's shoulder.

"Are you comfortable? Do you need a minute before I call in my next client?" Tony runs his fingers down the younger's back, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

"'M good. You can do your work, sir." Peter hides, "I won't move, I'll be good. Are we covered?"

"Yes. If I pull up to the desk, then no one can see. It just looks like you're sleeping, baby. Just don't move."

"I won't. I'll be good for you."

"Alright. Bucky? Send in Scarlett." Tony nods at the man, wrapping an arm around his young boyfriend in his lap.

Hope you enjoyed it! Likes, comments, and shares are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!

#shut up nika #nika writes #endgame-ironspider #starker #tony x peter #starker nff #starker smut

[kaijous]

Fic: Buddyshipping spice

It's been approximately 84 years since I last posted any fic but I owed @unfriendlyamazon a very specific buddyshipping prompt and I finally did it! Read it here on AO3 or down below! Title: The Sexual Education Of Tristan Taylor

Rating: E

Words: 1,820

Warnings: Blowjobs, first time, bisexuality, guys being dudes

Pairings: Honda Hiroto | Tristan Taylor/Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler

Summary: Tristan Taylor is bisexual, and he's finally ready to admit it, but he's never actually been brave enough to watch gay porn. His best friend happens to be a gay porn expert, and offers to take him on a whirlwind tour. What other lessons could Joey have to teach?

Tristan clicked shut both locks on his bedroom door, ignoring Joey’s shitty laugh from where he sat on the bed nearby, scrolling rapidly and clicking around on a laptop. He did feel a little stupid for being this paranoid, but his sister and both parents had the annoying habit of popping up or barging in his room at the most inconvenient and usually humiliating times. Luckily they weren’t supposed to be home for hours, but you could never be too careful when it came to watching porn, especially with your best friend. He walked across the room and twisted shut the blinds. “You wanna make sure the room ain’t wired, too?” Joey groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. “This porn ain’t gonna watch itself.”

“Don’t make me regret telling you.” Tristan folded his arms.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, big guy.” Joey sighed and patted the comforter next to him. “You’re a blossoming bisexual flower, and I promised you—”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“And I promised you I would be your gay porn tour guide. Now sit your ass down and help me pick a video.”

Tristan exhaled and crossed over to sit on the bed and scooted back next to Joey. He brushed his palms on his jeans and studied the wall of lewd thumbnails. Dicks, balls and assholes as far as the eye could see. His mom would have a stroke.

“Alright, how about starting with Swallowing My Own Cum?” Joey offered and pointed at the screen.

“Uhh, I don’t think I wanna start there.” Tristan gulped and crossed his arms. His face was already getting hot.

“Yeah, I hear you.” Joey nodded sagely and tucked a lock of blonde behind his ear. “S'kinda like, then where do you have to go?”

“R-right.” Tristan stumbled. “What else is there?”

“Here’s one,” Joey hovered the mouse over a guy ass up on the ground. “Asian Twinks Flip Fuck In The Forest’.”

“What the hell is a flip fuck?” Tristan scratched his temple. “Anyway, I don’t like when they specify they gotta be Asian. Sounds racist.”

“Okaayy, then let’s just do Heteroflexible: Closeted Virgin Gets Passionately Barebacked.” Joey cut his eyes over to Tristan’s blank stare before scrolling away. “Alright, tou-chy. Fine, here’s the winner. Hot And Randy Twink Sucks His Buddy’s Huge Dick.”

“I don’t know, seems kinda—” Tristan started.

“Dude!” Joey shook his hands in frustration. “Are we gonna watch some goddamn porn or not?”

“Fine, just click it. Do it.” Tristan huffed and clamped his mouth shut.

Joey clicked the thumbnail loudly before setting the laptop on the bed and leaning back against the wall with a thump. They watched the production company logo scroll for a few seconds of awkward silence until the screen filled with a shot of two young guys with a lot of piercings and tattoos furiously making out and writhing against each other on a couch. They were  both skinny — really skinny, not Tristan’s usual taste, but the punk look was kinda cool he guessed. Were these the kinds of things guys thought about when they watched gay porn? Probably not. He cleared his throat and watched for a long time as the two dudes played tonsil hockey.

“Is this gonna be the whole thing?” Tristan muttered out of the side of his mouth. “My parents aren’t gonna be gone that long.”

“Shut up, man. It’s picking up.” Joey nodded at the screen.

Sure enough, things were getting heated between the two porn stars. The one with a big tattoo of brass knuckles on his shoulder was obviously taking the lead as he unbuckled the one with the swoopy bangs’ studded belt. The camera drew back to show them both eagerly wriggling out of their skinny jeans and pressing their naked bodies together while they made out more. Their fingers danced across each other’s skin while they rolled their hips in time and panted breathlessly between kisses. Tristan had made out with more than a few girls by now, but even the most heated kiss didn’t match the energy on the tiny laptop screen right now.

“Not gonna lie, a lot of these clips are like half making out ‘cuz they want you to buy a subscription.” Joey’s voice snapped Tristan back to reality. “I can fast forward if you want,”

“No.” Tristan said stiffly. “I mean, uh, I don’t wanna deal with finding another video. This is fine.”

“Cool.” Joey sniffed and went quiet. 

Tattoo Guy finally broke off the kiss and Tristan’s eyes bulged as he watched the man drag his tongue all the way down Swoopy Bangs’ narrow chest to lick his pointed nipples. Tristan noticed immediately that the guy had a tongue piercing and had to wonder how the cold metal would feel against his heated skin. He guessed he could ask Joey, he was the only person he knew crazy enough to get one.

“Finally!” Joey clapped his hands together when Tattoo Guy started jerking and licking Swoopy Bangs’ half-hard dick. “We have liftoff.”

Tristan’s mouth went completely dry. The guy on bottom’s cock hardened up quickly, springing away from his body before the man above him took it in his mouth with an easy bobbing movement. The slurping sounds that filled the room made Tristan’s cheeks light on fire, and that was before the guys started moaning. Gradually and then all too suddenly, Tristan noticed his pants feeling really, really tight. He chanced a look at Joey, but his brown eyes betrayed nothing but casual interest. Tristan’s dick was getting rock hard from five seconds of a couple of twinks giving each other blowies, and Joey looked like he was watching baseball.

“I um, feel like I probably got the gist of it.” Tristan blurted. 

“What, seriously?” Joey raised his eyebrows. “They’re just getting to the good stuff.”

“Yeah, for real, it’s cool. It’s uh, very interesting. But I’m good.” Tristan shifted on the bed uncomfortably. He longed to reach for a pillow to cover his raging boner but that would be a dead giveaway.

“Uh-huuuhh.” Joey’s voice lilted. The moaning on screen got even louder as he eyed the bulging fabric of Tristan’s jeans. “I think you’re doin’ a lil’ more than good.”

“Joey, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not a good idea.”

“When’s that ever stopped us before?” Joey snorted. He reached over and casually bumped his knuckles along the ridge of Tristan’s hard dick trapped under denim. 

Tristan shuddered, but he didn’t move away. The situation, as usual when it involved Joey, was getting out of his control.

“You want me to stop?” Joey asked, his voice kept husky and low but sounding deafening over the moans and cries coming from the laptop speakers. Tristan shook his head and let out a shaky breath as he leaned back and let his knees fall open.

“Just watch the show, big guy. I got you.” Joey murmured.

Tristan turned his dizzying attention back to the screen while Joey rubbed the front of his pants for a little longer. He quickly moved on to pulling down Tristan’s zipper and he wasted no time getting out his dick to start stroking. He swiped the precum that had already gathered from Tristan’s slit and spread it down his length.

“Fuck, man.” Joey breathed out, puffing air over Tristan’s bare skin. “You got a big ass dick.”

“Y-yeah?” Tristan asked dumbly.

“Yeah, man.” Joey whispered, sounding awed. “The biggest I’ve ever seen.” 

Tristan wondered briefly just how many dicks Joey had actually seen, but the train of thought was lost as his friend licked a long line up and down the underside of his dick. He gasped out loud and looked down in time to catch a silver glint of metal flick out of Joey’s mouth. So that’s what a tongue piercing felt like.

“Fuck,” Tristan hissed.

“That feel good?” Joey asked. His warm brown eyes glanced up coyly, like he didn’t know he was rocking Tristan’s shit right now without even getting his whole dick in his mouth. “Then you’re gonna love this.”

Tristan gasped and let out a truly embarrassing noise when Joey suddenly dropped his hot, wet mouth down his cock. Somewhere next to them the goth twink was overacting his heart out, but the high moans and cries sounded far away as Tristan’s eyes fixed on the real life pornographic sight of his best friend going to town on his hard dick. He watched as Joey’s blonde hair bounced along with the movement of his head bobbing up and down. He expertly sucked on him without a hint of teeth, just soft wet skin taking him impossibly tight and deep. Tentatively, Tristan reached out a hand and curled his fingers in Joey’s hair. Joey’s own hand raised up to clench over Tristan’s and he somehow knew exactly what he needed to do. 

Tristan squeezed and tugged tight on Joey’s bleached strands which pulled the nastiest, thickest moan from his best friend’s throat. Tristan panted and bucked his twitching hips up into Joey’s tight, soft mouth as his pleasure mounted.

“Joey, I gotta stop or I’m gonna—” Tristan groaned, but Joey didn’t stall for a second. “I’m serious, I’m gonna make, hah, I’m gonna make a fucking mess—ahh, fuck!”

Tristan came down Joey’s throat. There were no two ways about it. His best friend had just sucked him into oblivion, and he happily swallowed every drop of come Tristan had to give. Holy shit.

'Holy shit' was the only coherent thought he could form. That, and the fact that Joey was really fucking good at sucking dick. That was one bathroom wall rumor confirmed. 

Joey wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled up at Tristan blearily. They sat in silence for a beat. Tristan’s hand twitched and he reached out to brush a drop of slick that had collected on his friend’s bottom lip. Joey’s smile turned wry and crooked, but the warmth never left his eyes.

“Not half bad doin’ gay shit, huh?” Joey sat up and stretched his arms over head. He reached into his pocket to check his phone and yawned. “Wanna split a pizza?”

Tristan blinked. Leave it to Joey to break years of sexual tension and move on to dinner in the next millisecond.

“Uh, yeah. But we’re getting pineapple.” He declared and started wiping down his crotch with tissues from his bedside table.

“So demanding!” Joey crowed. “Who sucked who’s dick today?”

“You are not holding that over my head from now on!” Tristan jabbed an accusatory finger.

“Pft, if you think I’m annoying now wait ‘til I eat your ass.” Joey rolled his eyes.

Tristan sputtered for a response, but Joey was already on the line with the pizza place before he could think of what to say. He still had a lot to learn.

#buddyshipping #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #jounouchi katsuya #honda hiroto #my fic

[chiefbasementcreator]

Oliver smiled, walking into Elsa’s office in nothing but a pair of panties that showed off the massive snowflake logo of the company. It was a bright icy blue color

"And I wasn't even thinking about it!" elsa beamed. She imagined asking him to get a tattoo similar someday, but it never as somethign important that he had to do right now.

#elsa #ceo elsa #lightdragonslayer

[madamerebloger]

I think regarding tattoos, i can vividly see that he glides his thumb against every line of the tattoo. I feel like he'd be incredibly flattered if someone got a tattoo of him, or better yet his name/company logo.

I Imagine he half jokes like "you might as well get a tattoo of me." And then when you get it he's....well he's surprised!

I dont think he'd be the type to get a tattoo. Bit of a wuss in that sense /lighthearted

I think he'd be the worst tattoo customer, not trusting the worker at all, wanting to look at it after every stroke to make sure its perfect, halting the process, getting irritable at every poke, grumbling and occasionally yelling!

And after all that? He wouldn't like the tattoo!! Even if its exactly what he asked for, even if he approved of the stencil beforehand >:(

AWWWW THIS IS SO CUTE

He's definitely a big diaper baby abt himself getting a tattoo, complaining 24/7

(I'll totally get a pie tattoo dedicated to him loll)

#big jack horner #jack horner #puss and boots the last wish #puss in boots #puss in boots last wish #big jack horner headcannons #jack horner x reader

[falloutboydescribed]

Boys shoot for big time (Pioneer Press, August 21, 2003)

Written by Matthew Pais, staff intern

[Image description: A newspaper clipping of this article as it appeared in Alternative Press #303's "The Oral History of 'Take This to Your Grave'". It is captioned "Full page write up in the Pioneer Press." End ID]

For the young members of Fall Out Boy, homecoming no longer means football games, dancing and formalwear. Instead, it means a day-long stop in their hometown and the rare opportunity to sleep in their own beds. 

Which is exactly what three out of the four band members were doing one recent afternoon. The Boys had arrived on the North Shore at 5 a.m. that morning after playing a show in Lincoln, Nebraska. At 1 p.m., singer Patrick Strump, 20, guitarist Joe Trohman, 18, and drummer Andy Hurley, 23, were still sound asleep. 

Bassist Pete Wentz, 24, has learned to survive on no sleep. 

With tattoos running down his arms and a logo-free blue cap twisted on his head to a 30-degree angle from his forehead, Wentz may not be the prototypical alumnus of Winnetka's North Shore Country Day School. But he just might be the busiest. 

Fall Out Boy performed approximately 200 shows in the past year, traveling across the country in a run-down van to play their energetic brand of emotive pop-punk. 

On the road 

"We have to drive with the heat on when it gets hot," Wentz said, during a conversation at an outdoor table of a Wilmette sandwich shop. "You've never had it worse than driving with the heat on in 120-degree weather through the desert." 

Touring has its downside. "The first four days, it's really good and fresh," Wentz said. "Then homesickness sets in." 

According to Wentz, the band is rarely short on subjects worth arguing about, from the cost of a tour bus to the prospect of the music industry ever seeing another Beatles or Elvis. He said that the disputes never last long. "Five minutes later, we're laughing about it," he said. "These guys are like brothers to me, so our arguments are like family arguments." 

Wentz, a Wilmette resident, is not the only member of the band with a North Shore connection. Stumph, a native of Glenview, graduated from Glenbrook South, and Trohman lives in Winnetka and is a New Trier alum. Hurley is from Milwaukee. 

Early ambition 

Wentz learned to play the guitar when he was 7, and picked up a bass guitar at 14. "I kinda always wanted to be in a band," he said. "It's like the best job in the world." 

"I had no idea he was as talented as he obviously is, but it doesn't surprise me that he would be inclined to express himself in that way," says North Shore Country Day School teacher Kevin Randolph, who had Pete (or "Peter," as he calls him), in his 11th grade U.S. history class. 

"Some kids are just there for the grades, Peter was there because he had questions he wanted answers to." And even as a teen, Wentz was no follower. 

"He didn't take his cue from what was popular in terms of what to wear or what to listen to," said Randolph. "He clearly did not look like a kid out of Abercrombie and Fitch, but we are a school that values diversity." 

Falling in

Fall Out Boy started when Wentz and Trohman, already good friends, began writing songs just for fun. After meeting Strump, the three musicians soon added Hurley, an old friend of Wentz, to complete the band. 

The band soon moved onto the fast track. "When it took off, we dropped everything," said Wentz, who left DePaul University in his junior year to concentrate on music. 

He found leaving school an easy decision. "Nobody really looks back on their life and thinks they should have taken less chances." he said. 

In the past year, Fall Out Boy has released its debut album, "Take This to Your Grave," on Fueled by Ramen records, and has appeared at the South by Southwest exhibition in Texas, a prestigious showcase where record companies watch up and coming talent in concert. Wentz said the white-collar crowd did not really get a taste of what Fall Out Boy is all about. "Our performance was way more low-key and didn't really represent who we are." 

When watching the video for Fall Out Boy's "Dead on Arrival," it's hard not to think of the footage from the Beatles final concert or the video for U2's "Where the Streets Have No Name." Though the music may be faster and fiercer, the rebellion is undeniable: the police shut down Fall Out Boy's concert after only four songs, Wentz said. "It was just one of the most insane experiences of my life," he explained. 

The video was filmed at Arlington Heights' Knights of Columbus, where the band had previously played a show for a packed crowd of fans who sang along to all of the songs. Wentz said that experience proved that Fall Out Boy was on its way to something special. "We were like, 'Whoa, this is bigger than us,' " Wentz said. 

He adds that though he gets nervous before performances, ""As soon as I step on the stage, I know exactly what I'm doing," he said. "Afterwards, sometimes I throw up." 

Wentz's modesty reveals itself in his reaction to fame. "Why would anybody want my autograph?" he wonders. 

Dark side 

He may be young, but Wentz's lyrics, which comprise 90% of the songs on "Take This to Your Grave," reflect bitterness toward love. Consider "Chicago is So Two Years Ago," on which he writes, "You want apologies girl, you might hold your breath until your breathing stops/The only things you'll get is this curse on your lips: I hope they taste of me forever/With every breath I wish your body will be broken again." 

Writing has always been a way for Wentz to deal with his emotions. "Lots of times I'd rather sit at home with a pen on a Friday night than go out," Wentz said. He said that he often writes with acid in the pen, as evidenced by "The Pros and Cons of Breathing," in which he writes, "My pen is the barrel of the gun/remind me which side you should be on/I wish I was as invisible as you make me feel." 

You would never know it from his quick smile and easy manner, but sadness seems to be Wentz's best inspiration. On the band's Web site, he describes his favorite pastimes as "Misery, horrible thoughts and writing." 

Music as therapy 

Wentz said that he is not alone in his use of music as therapy. "Everyone medicates themselves with music," he said. "It's really important for music to be involved in everyone's life." 

The bassist adds that everything he writes is drawn from real-life feelings. "We write honest lyrics and honest music," he said. "I feel like these are issues that everyone can relate to." 

The band's commitment to honesty is reflected in Wentz's musical likes and dislikes. He lists The Police, The Cure, Elvis Costello, Green Day, and a slew of New York hard-core punk bands as influences but says he has little respect for the pop-punk posers on MTV. "These TRL guys who act like they have their hearts on their sleeve really just have their egos on their sleeve," he said.

Wentz is grateful for what the band has accomplished thus far. "I think we're the luckiest band around," he said. "I hope I can look back on it and remember it as a really important part of my growing up."

#this guy just does not spell patricks surname the same way twice and i respect him for it #fall out boy #fob #fob articles #fob archive

[wandasaura]

https://www.tumblr.com/wandasaura/743615991150460928/with-all-this-tattoo-discourse-do-you-think-wanda?source=share

Not interested in tattoos for themselves?! Does that mean there's a small, teeny-tiny possibility they would, let's say, be interested in R having a tattoo that is dedicated to them like their initials or their company logo or some phrase in russian/sokovian? Like imagine how they would feel having a sub with a permanent mark on her body showing she's theirs 😭🛐

(I also have a tattoo but as soon as I have enough money I'm planning to get another one with Wanda's crown and her words under it like 'No more mutants' or 'I just feel you' or smth like that, I can't decide yet)

- 🥑

i think if r were to ever get a tattoo (which is probably a slim to none chance) she’d get i love you in russian in a small font above the back of her elbow. she’s thought long and hard about the process, and has decided that as much as the tattoo is for wanda and natasha, it’s also for herself and a reminder to explore beyond what you know

#a: 🥑 #answered. #𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 ꔫ

[kyufessions]

Lost ( first preview )

synopsis: you didn’t know if becoming friends with a regular customer that ran in everyday before their early afternoon classes was okay with your boss, but at the end of the day you ended up not caring. to you, he was in everything that was right with the world- the reasoning behind the sun shining brightly onto your face every morning. to him, you were that and much more. but the secrets you withheld left him wondering what kind of person you truly were.

preview genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

preview word count: 1.2k

a/n: first small preview of the very beginning of this story, release date tba but hoping to release around christmas

lost taglist: @jungsusvillain • @milkybonya

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana

enters the same college student, jogging to the drink cooler in his same old beaten up nike sneakers with the beige logo as he rushes to grab a morning snack to eat during his first lecture class. when he walks up with his regular everyday canned iced caramel macchiato and a bag of sour cream and cheddar chips, you do nothing but scan his items and slide them back over to in front of him so he could slip it into his maroon and navy blue backpack like always. as his card is in the reader, he slips everything inside as he asks how your morning is going, genuine curiosity stringing through his words. he watches you roll your eyes tiredly, smiling as you tell him it’s just another tuesday morning.

the grin playing at the corner of his lips brought one to yours as well, his smile contagious and heartwarming. you both never spoke much to each other, just regular conversations between a customer and cashier. although johnny wished to say more, he wasn’t sure how to go about it or even what to say. all he could ever think was to ask how your day was going and wished for it to get better for you, and every time you always said the same thing. he wasn’t sure if you were annoyed by seeing his cheerful self every morning around nine thirty, but the tone in your voice and small sparkle in your eyes alway reassured him he wasn’t that annoying customer. and by every morning, he meant every morning. even on weekends, and if you weren't there in the morning he’d come by at night to stop by for something small like a granola bar and some water.

there was something about you he liked. he wasn’t sure what, but there you were luring him in. maybe it was the way you came across differently from all your other coworkers in the store, always with newly dyed hair every other month accompanied by your same small floral tattoos sprawled across your right arm and closed off attitude you seemed to have towards everyone. it wasn’t that you were rude, but you acted very professional as to keep a distance between you and customers- never wanting to develop any type of relationship whether it be friendly or romantic due to not wanting to have another person in your life. the handful of those in your life was already almost too many, but nonetheless you were grateful for their existence and company when provided with it.

funnily enough, after the first two weeks of stopping in to visit the new cashier, he stopped eating the bags of chips. instead, he’d just store it away for later in his snack cabinet in his apartment or just give it to one of his friends in class. but after a few months, his friends stopped taking the bags of chips everyday which left him to have an excess amount of the same sour cream and cheddar cream chips. on his weekly movie nights with his roommate, mark, he’d always have the same bowl of chips.

“don’t you ever get tired of eating those same chips?” mark would ask, raising a brow as he snuck a handful of chips and shoved them into his mouth.

johnny’s eyes would never leave the screen of the random netflix movie playing on the living room television screen as he shook his head in response, his fingers grabbing two chips and bringing them up to his lips slowly. “nope.” is all he’d say, popping the ‘p’ for dramatics causing small laughter to slip through mark’s lips.

one morning when johnny ran inside the store, he didn’t see you working behind the register. instead stood one of your other coworkers that started becoming familiar with him as well. she was an older lady, seeming to be just a few years younger than his own mother. he smiled at the lady warmingly, jogging towards the fridge and grabbing just an arizona iced tea. he doesn’t bother to go to the register and instead uses self checkout, mentally noting to come back after his workout tonight. he wondered the rest of the day if you’ve been okay, if you called off for the day or just worked later in the day. during his workout sessions he normally thought of just that: the workout. but halfway through he realized you had occupied his mind for the vast majority of his session that he seemed to be working extra hard in today. which seemed odd to him since it’s never happened before- but there was a first for everything, or at least that’s what he always told himself.

he took a quick shower after his workout, quickly changing into a random red hot chili peppers tee and some black sweatpants topped with a new york yankees snapback. on his way home from the campus’ gym, he remembered to take a quick pit stop at the store to see if you were there. through the window, he noticed you leaning against the counter with your chin in your one palm as the other texted mindlessly on your phone. he noticed the new hair color, smiling to himself before entering the store and greeting you kindly as your head shot up in his direction. your energy seemed elevated, more welcoming than most mornings. he quickly grabbed a random water bottle from the fridge and the same chips, walking towards your register.

“is it okay if you check me out?” he asks, his tone and smile friendly.

you nod, sending him a brighter smile and starting to scan his items. “of course, it’s my job. isn’t it?” you joked, making sure to say it in a playful manner so as to not come across as an asshole. when you hear a small chuckle from him, you smile to yourself as you slip his items into a plastic bag. “have you ever tried these with french onion dip?”

johnny shakes his head, pulling his card out of his wallet. “i haven’t. why, is it good?”

he watches you nod, tapping away on the register screen as you respond. “i personally think it’s a good food combination, i’d recommend it.” your eyes look up from your screen to see him walking back towards the chip aisle and coming back with french onion dip, sliding it towards you to scan. “oh you don’t have to-“

“i’ll trust your judgment.” is all he says with his normal warm smile, the smile you look forward to everyday.

that night when watching movies, mark watches his roommate and best friend dip his chips into some sort of dip he’s never seen him eat before.

“what’s that?” he asks, eyeing the dip to try and read the label that seemed to be hidden by his large hand covering up the sides of the glass container.

“what’s what?” johnny looks over at his friend, following his eyes and noticing them looking down at his half finished french onion dip. “oh, i just wanted to try something new. shake things up a bit.”

“is it even good?”

he looks down at the chips then back to his friend, nodding as he looks back at the television. “it’s a good combination.”

#kyufessions LOST #kyufessions nct #nct #nct au #nct fluff #nct johnny #nct 127 johnny #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh #johnny fluff #nct 127 #nct 127 fluff

[armpirate]

UNDER YOUR SKIN || JJK || Ch. 17

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.

Warnings: Mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, dirty talk

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I move my thumbs against each other, having a little fight on my lap as I try to hide my nervousness under the table. Her gray eyes keep reading my resume intensely, and the way she slightly curves one side of her lips down just warns me she might've read something she didn't like.

—So you haven't worked in this field?

The second her gaze moves from the sheet of paper to me, I feel small and intimidated.

—I've tried to do some unofficial work for some companies —she keeps her eyes on me, waiting for me to go on and explain what I've just said—. They kept doing contests for people to create new logos or new designs.

—You said you "tried", so that means they didn't pick your designs? —she looks at me over her cat-eye glasses.

Pressing my lips together, I shake my head slowly. She then nods, and that's how I know it's all over for me. It was the only thing I could use to prove I'm more than ready and excited to work on what I've been studying, and she took it down. Clearly, when you have thirty more people waiting in line to get an interview to work for your company, a person with no experience is the least of your problems. Dump one and one hundred more will show up to take the vacancy in their place.

—As you'd understand, we need someone with experience to be part of our marketing team. Doing some designs for fun isn't enough —she places my resume back on the table, and fixes her eyes on me—. I wish you all the best.

Wishing me all the best won't get my ass to work.

I fake a smile, barely curving the corner of my lips up, as I stand up to shake her hand that's hanging in the air.

Leaving the building isn't any better. Although I feel relieved by this moment passing by, I also feel disappointed on how this is the third interview I managed to book in the past six months just for it to turn out on me being rejected again for the exact same reasons.

Asshole: How did it go?

Jungkook sent this a minute after I told him I'd start the interview. Yet he seems to be keeping an eye on his phone. As soon as I reply to the text he sent thirty minutes ago, he shows up with a new text.

Me: Seems like I'll be serving drinks a little longer

Asshole: Their loss

Me: Thats what losers say to comfort themselves

Asshole: I was just tryna be nice 🥺

I try my best to hold in the smile that aims to form on my face as soon as I read his text, and see his emoji.

Me: What is Mr. Nice doing?

Instead of just answering it, Jungkook sends me a pic. He's posing in front of a mirror inside of the studio, and I can see reflected the tattoo chair where I was sitting when we decided to go back in time in my life. Jungkook's pouty lips and wide dow eyes, while he's keeping two fingers up for the pose make me instantly giggle.

And I know it's way too late when I'm aware of what's just happened.

My phone starts shaking in my hand, and when I look at the screen I see his name again. Trying to get back some of my usual self, I take the call.

—I've been tattooing a cobra for almost five hours.

—Cobra as in the tattoo or a body part?

—Oh... Oh —he says lower as soon as he gets the double meaning—. Dirty mind, I see. There's no better way to cope with rejection.

—You know what's better to cope with rejection? Not being reminded you were rejected —I sigh—. But thank you for trying.

I think it's the first time Jungkook doesn't go along and drag the conversation himself. And it's my fault, to be honest. He was trying to cheer me up, and I blocked whatever it was he was trying to do.

—So... are you done? —I finally ask— I mean, do you have more customers?

—Not until four —he groans, and all I can think is that he's stretching out on his seat—. I think I'll go to the gym, grab something for lunch and come back. Mark is here anyway. What about you?

—I'll prepare lunch and get ready for work —I keep looking back while I head to the bus stop, just to make sure it isn't coming yet.

—I thought you were on your off day.

—I wish —an ironic laugh leaves my mouth just with the thought of having to stand assholes after what happened fifteen minutes ago—. Still three days left for my weekend. But it's alright, I could be doing worse.

Jungkook is about to speak, or maybe he does say something. But I stop him the moment I see the bus driving past me and getting nearer to the bus stop.

—Shit —my legs start running before I can even hang up—. I gotta get going. Talk to you later.

And again, he's almost going to say something, but I end the call before he can even say it out loud.

✸ ✸ ✸

And I confirm today hasn't been my day at all. I've been acting like a rabid dog for most of the evening, which scared some customers away. Or, at least, they avoided being attended by me, because at some point Tammy just told me to prepare those drinks while she was the one taking the orders directly from them.

She knew about what happened before we started our service -she insisted too much to get to know what was going on with my face. She knew how I was feeling because she's gone to a lot of castings to get, at least, a secondary role in different plays, but she was always rejected for several reasons. I guess that's why she didn't take my bad mood seriously. She knows it isn't aimed at her, or my job as a bartender. But the fact that I was so close to what I wanted to do, and how I filled my head with possibilities and daydreams at the thought of being chosen, that being back to reality felt like a punch straight to the throat.

It kind of makes me feel like I'm not good at anything. I kept overestimating myself, and now I'm back to reality: It's been four years since I finished the degree, and I've only been able to get booked for a few interviews, when most of the time companies would reject me just by looking at my resume.

It's pathetic.

And that mixed with the fact that today I let Tammy carry with the whole service almost by herself isn't making it any better.

Not only am I pathetic, but also unprofessional and a bad coworker.

My mental rambling gets interrupted by one thought as soon as I reach my floor: What the fuck is he doing here?

—You sounded off on the phone this morning —he starts explaining—. So I bought some sweets —he raises the plastic box filled with striking coloured candy—, and drove here.

The way he's just standing there, looking so small with his baggy clothes, with his black bucket hat and his squared smile, combined with the fact that he drove here so late into the night just to try to cheer me up makes me suddenly forget about everything that's happened today.

I'm unable to say no, although I'm a bit tired.

We don't really do much the moment we get in my apartment. We don't talk about my interview, or how was work. We just sit on the floor, backs resting on my couch, while we watch a movie he chose. I was hoping for a horror movie, I was in the mood to see some gore content, but Jungkook ended up choosing The Ugly Truth.

—Have you come over to do a teaching class?

And that's all I can think about the second Gerard Butler hangs up the phone at the guy Katherine Heigl was trying to win over.

He shushes me without taking his eyes away from my TV, he doesn't even move his eyes away to pick the candies he wants to eat. Honestly, I don't even think he's blinking at this point. Yet the second I pick the last gummy bear, when he's eaten most of them, he holds my wrist and takes it away from my fingers with his teeth.

—I've only eaten two of...

He shuts me up when his lips collide against mine. I feel his tongue exploring my mouth, and just a few seconds after I feel something light and fruity against my inner cheek. It takes me a bit to process what's just happened, and my pussy throbs the moment I do. I always pictured that as something disgusting, yet the way he sneakily moved his tongue and the gummy went from his mouth to mine... It was too hot.

How am I even supposed to focus on the movie now?

But I do the second he acts like nothing has happened. And we move on to the scene where they're both in the club, where Butler confesses why he doesn't believe in relationships and how he's had his heart broken by different girls. My eyes unconsciously move to Jungkook, after my head remembers how he never invites girls over and how he got himself in this deal instead of going after someone he could end up dating. And my gaze doesn't seem to go undetected since he stops the movie and turns to me before I can even move my eyes away.

—You want to know, don't you? —he turns to me with a funny smile.

—No —I lie, of course I want to know. It's just basic curiosity—. But... if you feel like sharing.

He chuckles with my response, and turns his whole body to me. He frowns, and his gaze moves up as he tries to remember and select how much he wants to share with me right now.

—It was just one —he tilts his head as soon as he seems to start remembering things—. And she cheated on me. I loved her more than she loved me. Simple as that. After five years of dating, instead of breaking up with me, she started seeing one of my customers. She only said she didn't want to hurt me, but she wasn't feeling the same way. Living together, working together... It wore her out.

And that was her excuse? So her plan was to cheat on him until she got tired of the other guy and could go back to Jungkook as if nothing happened? I'm not able to understand how someone could do something like that to anyone. But the fact that it happened specifically to Jungkook, makes me feel some type of way.

I'm unaware of the face I must be making until he pats my head and laughs, trying to make that tension disappear.

—Chill, cocktease. Last time I saw that look, you threw a shoe at my head —he clicks his tongue—. And it's not like you have any reasons to be looking this way.

And he's right. At most, we are just two people getting to be friends as a consequence of a weird deal we both came up with. Getting affected by what he's just told me, in the slightest, is the dumbest thing.

—I'm just annoyed. That's it —I shrug—. I can't stand lies, and I always get worked up when something similar happens in movies or shows.

But is that really everything there is to it? I can't dig deeper in this question, because Jungkook's voice interrupts my own answer.

—You look cute when you're annoyed —he moves his thumb across the frowned space between my eyebrows.

—Huh, so that's why you always try to piss me off.

He puckers his lips while he thinks of the answer, and simply nods before his lips cover mine carefully. He tastes so sweet and addictive right now, I can't do anything but pull him closer by sinking my fingers on his locks.

The care and finesse disappears fast the second we start sucking on each other's lips like our lives depend on it. I know he started kissing me because he saw I was starting to overthink about a situation I'm not even directly involved in, he wanted to wash those thoughts away, and it's working.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, and he has the exact same expression he had the first time we made out and he left when things were about to start getting better.

—Can we go to your room? —he asks with a raspy voice.

The second we cross the door to my room, while still holding hands, he makes me turn to him. Jungkook has the same look he's had the other few times we've been in a similar situation, he looks concerned, but so eager for it to happen that he doesn't dare to say a word that could ruin all of this.

I place my hands on his shoulders, looking for support, the second I stand on my tip toes to kiss his neck. I try to remember the way his lips moved on my neck, just to mimic those same kisses on his skin and get a few groans from him. He sounds so good, it only encourages me to keep going while my fingers start unzipping his pants.

I feel the muscles on his back and shoulders tense and move the second he slightly bends, just to take his baggy jeans off. And his gray sweater follows right after. My mouth goes dry the second I see him only wearing a pair of black boxers. And fuck, black has never looked so good on anyone else before.

Jungkook kisses my cheek and jaw, sliding his hands down my black polo shirt just so he moves them back up, taking the fabric with his digits until it's completely off my body. He moves the reverse of his index through my collar bone, down my chest -moving in between my still covered breasts-, and keeps going lower on my body until it reaches the edge of my jeans.

When he leans over me and I feel his warm breath near my earlobe, I try my best to relax and make my heart beat at a normal pace. But I know I failed when his lips curl against my skin as soon as he places them under my jar, just to leave a small kiss.

—Wait —I stop him, the moment the air hits directly against my exposed thighs—. I know it'll sound dumb, but I don't...

—You aren't ready? —he ends for me—. It's okay —he starts to step back.

—It's not that —I hold his arm—. I'm not ready for that —I move my head, and I'm sure he understands what I mean—, but I want to do something else. I want you to touch me —I whisper, unsure of what he'll think—, and I want you to teach me how to touch you.

Jungkook smiles at that, and points with his head towards the bed. Although he still asks a few times if I'm sure of what we are going to do. And honestly, I am. It's not like it's the first time we are in a similar situation, but it is the first time we are going to see each other completely naked.

—If you want to stop, just say it, okay? —he starts speaking the moment I'm lying in the middle of the bed, and he's following me right after.

I take off my bra and panties, under his attentive gaze. It's almost as if he's waiting for the minimum sign that shows that I'm uncomfortable to stop this, but far from that I bite my lip and get even more turned on when his black eyes travel down my body with such admiration and lust I'm starting to feel dizzy. But that feels like nothing the moment he takes his boxers off and leaves his cock in full display.

Sure I've seen a lot on porn sites, and of course I've imagined them while reading spicy books. And while his isn't as big as the ones I pictured, it's just as impressive how thick and hard it already is, while pointing directly at me.

He straddles my right thigh, while pushing the left one away to keep my legs spread for him. And while he holds his shaft with one of his hands, the other gives soft massages on my inner thigh, getting closer to my throbbing core.

—Put your fingers around me.

And just as he told me, I do it. He feels so hard in my hand, but at the same time so soft. He stops me when I'm going to move my hand up to his tip, and lets a string of spit fall from his mouth to his cock. The moment he starts motioning my hand under his on his cock, he lets out a grunt and slides the fingers of his other hand through my folds without a previous warning.

I move my hand on him slowly, up and down, while his fingers spread the wetness all over so he can start teasing my clit in circles.

—Have you ever touched yourself? —I nod, feel my mouth is way to dry to be able to answer with words.

The moan gets stuck in my throat when I feel the tip of his finger teasing my entrance, moving in circles until I unconsciously lift my hips to invite him in. The hold on his dick grows tighter as soon as his finger slips in, making both of us moan.

—You're so tight —he groans, sliding his whole finger in.

Jungkook starts moving in sync with my hand, and at some point I'm feeling tempted to look up to him to make sure whether he's liking it or not. But fuck, when his eyes meet mine, and I see him with that frowned sexy look, lips parted with a smirk I'm totally lost on him. I swirl my hand on his shaft, which causes that smirk to grow even wider.

I whimper when he moves his finger away, but let out a drowned moan when he adds a second finger to stretch me out.

—You're working on my cock so well —but just like the other time, his free hand reaches my face and separates my lips with his fingers so I can't keep my moans to myself—. Let me hear you. Let me know how good I'm being to you.

His fingers curl inside of me, reaching a familiar spot I've wanted to work on the few times I've tried. And he adds his thumb to the game, moving in circles on my clit. And that's when I know he wants to end me somehow. My head falls back, and my legs instantly move to spread wider for him, causing the thigh caged in between his legs to rub and press against his balls. He lets out a cracked moan as soon as the feeling hits him, and it only encourages me to repeat it a few more times.

—Jungkook —the wet sounds of his fingers are just making me go crazier by the minute—. Fuck, you're so good.

The knot in my stomach is about to crash, just a few more moves and I'll get loose right here and now. And of course he knows. He feels my pussy clenching around his fingers, which only makes him move faster on my clit and that particular spot. His hips start working on my hand the second his dick starts to tighten up against my palm.

A pornographic moan comes out of me when Jungkook's finger rub that same spot for the last time, and just a few seconds after I feel something warm falling over my chest and belly.

—Oh fuck —he moans with his eyes still closed—. Oh fuck —he repeats, but now he seems concerned.

When I open my eyes, he's looking at me worried. Carefully, his fingers leave my body and he gets up and heads to my bathroom.

—I'm sorry —he apologizes when he comes back with some toilet paper.

—It's alright —he starts cleaning me up softly, getting rid of the sticky liquid—. It's okay —I say, before he's able to apologize again.

—You were really good —he wipes the toilet paper over my sensitive core, making me whine slightly.

And while he's doing that, I think of that duality he manages to control perfectly. He was looking hot and sexy just a few seconds ago, and right now he's back to his cute self, glancing at me with a warm smile.

When he comes out of the bathroom, I see him looking around uncomfortably, uneasy. As if he weren't sure of what to do.

—You can stay the night —I assure him.

His eyes look shiny when he looks at me after I say that, but he shakes his head and starts picking up his clothes.

—It'll be better if I sleep back home —I see him dressing up.

Jungkook doesn't say anything else, he just kisses my head and leaves the room. And not too long after I hear the sound of my main door closing.

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #tattoistjk #tattooau #armpirate

[cooganbegs-blog]

Waiting at the airport desperate to get home. This trip is the clusterfuck that just keeps unfolding.

I snuck out to an early quick coffee and toast to try and avoid an ear bashing from the Account Director who was messaging me a blow by blow detail of the group yoga going on, how she was making eye contact with the founder of our customer company, he winked and clearly that means they’re best mates, bla bla bla.

Unfortunately I ran into her scurrying back to my room! She proceeded to regale me stories of last night after I bailed. Why is that apparently so many great connections were made, clients tried to crack on to her, such a great night, she was hanging out and getting selfies with all the bigwigs…..she has this manner of literally just spewing story after story after story at you. It’s at the point now where I actually zone out and just nod while planning my teams priorities in my head and what food shopping I’ll need to do on the way home from the airport!

Anyway, she started outlining my day for me which I cut her short to inform her I was bailing the second my speaking spot was finished. And then the jokey passive aggressive, reminding me it’s the cost the company money, she won’t be telling the CEO that I shirked my duties and bailed early. I informed her that I would be giving very frank feedabck on the entire clusterfuck when I’m back from bushwalking and taking it up directly with the CEO and CTO.

I really found her so infuriating. I detest being treated like a child and micromanaged. And her neediness was next level. Her desire to be “one of the crew” was actually embarrassing, I was fascinated and repulse and mesmerised in equal measure!!

….she actually got a tattoo of the Anytime Fitness logo on her wrist today. WTAF???? And of course we all had st stand there for an hour to witness and video and photograph the event so it could prove just how dedicated she was. And it would be this tatto that smooth out the shitshow all the customers are pissed about.

She loves being the centre of attention, she barely introduced me to anyone. When I was bailed up on the way back from breakfast, the co-founder walked past and she started yapping to him, so I just reached across and said, “We haven’t been introduced yet, I’m Libby the Head of Product”. She simpered and banned some fucking bullshit.

She has always been super cagey about letting me near customers and in real life it was even worse. Everything was a sign that she was on the inner, “so-and-so smiled at me”, she was constantly saying “did you see that?”, of which my answer was “what?”….”oh so and so just looked my way and made a face”….I am out of all patience !!!

Anyway, nerves kicked in and she kept looking at me going “you alright?”…”you alright”…..to which I extended immense willpower to stop myself slapping her senseless to shut her the fuck up.

The actual presentation was fine, yes I was nervous. I buggered up the first slide but once I got cracking I settled and it seemed to go ok. The Senior Support Manager (the fellow introvert who also got volunteered for this clusterfuck !) was also very good. We disgraced neither the company or ourselves.

I then had to wait around during the conference lunch break to witness said tattooing while she simpered and carried on.

Then it was off to the airport, post fucking haste.

Rookie error number one: I underestimated cash and card usage. I work for a payments company, you’d think I’d know better! I don’t carry cash OR cards anymore and got caught many times. When I got out of the airport and handed old mate (so brown and shrivelled and toothlessly smiling, such a joy!) he shook his head and said, cash. I must have looked completely blank!! He pointed to the terminal and said, ATM, I wait here. And of course that sparked a sweaty trek all over the fucking airport to find the atm. Finally found it and got requisite cash. Trudged back to old mate, with an additional IDR100 for being such a stupid Australia tourist!! The smile that split his walnut-like face was lovely!

Rookie error number two: assuming the wifi in the airport would be first world enough to allow me to checkin online for my QF flight. Wrong.

Rookie error number three: assuming I could activate global roaming with my useless mobile provider.

Rookie error number four: stupidly thinking that if I get into the checkin hall, they’ll be better wifi!! So there I was stuck in limbo, in the checkin hall, can’t go forward to access food and gates, can’t go back to get a SIM card to get wifi, and checkin doesn’t open until 3 hours prior to flight which means I had 6 ducking hours on a hard seat with no facilities, no wifi.

And so I cried. I do get it was nerves, stress, frustration and a good measure of rage at my own stupidity. So I found a corner and sobbed for a few minutes. It’s been many, many years since I cried in an airport. It also took some next level willpower not to resign on the spot.

So, cry over, sucked it the fuck up, calmed down and resigned myself to a very long wait. Pulled my book out and started reading.

For some reason I just thought I’d try and get global roaming one more time. Hey presto, it worked!! It was third world slow but enough to checkin online, get a boarding pass and get through the blessed doors into the heaven that was the departure gate area.

So I’ve purchased salt and vinegar chips and resigned to reading fro the next few hours. And of course there’s no lounge here, so am out with the sweaty, white Australians! And no business class this time either!!

So I’ve decided I don’t like Bali. The people are ridiculously lovely, but I can’t do the egregious privilege on display from privileged white folks being waited on hand and foot by the brown folk. I was acutely uncomfortable the entire time. I get that tourism is good for their economy but what about their dignity.

Anyway, I have five and half hours to wait until I hie myself southward. A decent coffee in Melbourne airport before the short jump home…..and then bushwalking for six whole mother fucking days.

[ademonandherbentley]

Alright so I was letting thought bounce around in my head like screensaver logos and the Pirate Brainrot collided with the first part of this post and gave me Stede: newly out, newly divorced, but not yet with the means to break away from the life his father set up for him and thus still at the company he’s worked for all his life.

After dinner drinks have led to a crowd “slumming it” (their words) at a local bar that’s a bit of a dive and Stede has been rather unsubtly gazing at the long-haired, tattooed bar tender all evening. Bored and always down to humiliate Stede, one of the Badminton twins (which one? Who can every say, they’re chronically interchangeable) bets him a slightly extortionate amount of money that he can’t get Bartenders number.

Now, Stede might have a black hole of self-esteem that means he’d never dream of going for a guy that obviously out of his league, but he’s stubborn in the face of a challenge and a past master at thinking outside the box. So after a moment’s thought he wanders over to Hot Bartender and asks him if he’d like to make some easy money - all he has to do is smile like Stede said something charming and give him a fake number to show his friends. Easy.

Ed has been at this game a long time; he can do this bartending stuff in his sleep with his arms tied behind his back, and he’s well used to being propositioned on the job. However, someone coming up to him, seemingly all in innocence, and inviting him to be part of a scheme? A scheme to screw over a rich asshole, no less? That’s a novelty.

You also don’t get as far in this world as Ed has without being a pretty shrewd judge of character, and his gut is telling him that Stede might be with the jerks in the corner but he’s not really one of them (it has nothing to do with how easy on the eyes he is, thanks very much) so he flashes his most winning smile, scrawls some random digits on a napkin, and tells Stede that if he really wants to sell the ruse he’s welcome to ditch the Trust Fund Squad and come hang with him the rest of the night.

To his surprise, Stede does just that - he returns to his table long enough to present the number and collect their winnings, then he’s right back. Turns out Ed made the right call: Stede is whip-smart and funny and weird as all fuck and seems to enjoy talking to Ed, so much so that he stay even when Ed has to keep leaving him alone to actually do his job. Ed laughs more in a few hours of his company than he has in months, and Stede commentary about his colleagues is more brutal than Ed could ever have predicted it would be.

Ed’s having such a good time that it isn’t until Stede is being pulled out the door by his old crowd (flashing a knee-weakening smile on the way out) that he remembers that the number he gave him earlier in the evening wasn’t his real one.

In that moment, he’s never regretted anything more.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stede x ed #ed x stede #modern au #fanfic