#also i just realized it looks weird because the easel has a shadow but he doesn’t so it looks like that one of the red ball with messed up

[slimslamflimflam]

designated sillies posting time

background taken from the uhhhhhhhhh i forgot but ONE OF THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i think it was crunchy construction?

she painted the word “orphanage” on a cardboard box and let him blow that one up

also other various doodles because we’re already here!!!

the two fellas are ocs, I’ve already posted prawn but the magician looking dude’s name is sean and he’s technically pt oc too but i have no idea where to fit him so for now he’s just there

[jadekitty777]

Umbrella

@chiherah drew the cutest Fair Game sketch of Clover and Qrow sharing an umbrella at my request. And thus, I got inspired.

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 1900

Ao3 Link: Umbrella

Summary: It’s pouring out and Qrow has no umbrella. Luckily, the cute, new guy at the apartment complex is willing to share his. [Modern AU]

~

Qrow liked to think of his mornings as chaotically organized.

That is to say that he got up at 6:40 sharp every morning, spent 5 minutes on downing a burning cup of instant coffee, 12 minutes on his bathroom routine, and was out the lobby doors of the apartment complex by 7:02 to catch the 7:10 bus that was two blocks away. He had it down to an art, always was on time without failure every day; and though he’d probably benefit from turning his clock back even five minutes to avoid rush, why change something that wasn’t broken?

Problem was, being so precise with his schedule didn’t leave for any opportunity to make last minute adjustments. Like, for example, grabbing an umbrella. Or a coat.

Qrow stood in the foyer that acted as a go-between to the lobby and the outside world, sourly staring at the sheets of rain coming down in thick torrents from the sky. As he pulled out his phone, hoping by some miracle he had three minutes to spare, he stepped aside as he heard the door open behind him to get out of the way of whomever it was.

7:02 AM laughed back at him.

“Shit.” He grumbled.

“Everything alright?”

He jumped, looking over to the person who’d joined him in the foyer. Brunette hair, teal eyes, and an easy-going smile greeted him in return. He instantly recognized him as the new guy who’d taken Maria Calavera’s old apartment when she’d moved out into assisted living earlier on this month (A fact he was a bit salty about �� he liked that old codger). Qrow also happened to already know his name because, by habit one day, he went to go get Maria’s mail for her and found a new name etched on the box: Clover Ebi.

He’d caught a few glances of him in passing, but this was his first up-close contact and the realization hit him hard over how unforgivably handsome he was.

“Uh, yeah.” He avoided his gaze when he realized he was staring. “Just, forgot it was going to rain, is all.”

“Oh. That’s unfortunate.”

Qrow snorted. “Buddy, that’s my middle name. Anyways, see ya.” He offered him a wave before walking into the storm. He ducked his head as the rain instantly assaulted him, feeling cold spikes hit along the back of his neck and exposed arms. He sighed, crossing his arms and hunching over as he started his miserable walk to the bus stop, knowing he was going to be drenched by the time he got there.

Or so he thought, until a shadow fell over him, the rain blocked from above.

“You know, I had thought you were going to go back up and grab a coat at least. You’ll catch your death of cold going out like that.”

He tilted his head up, spotting the turquoise umbrella with little, happy aquatic creatures patterned along it, then to the one who had offered it. “Don’t have time. I’ll miss the bus.”

Clover’s smile hadn’t faltered, even as he was pelted by the rain. “Where ya headed? I’ll walk you there.”

Despite the chill in the air, he could feel heat creeping up his neck. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?”

Wow, real grateful. Good job Qrow. A+ social skills.

But if it offended the other, he didn’t show it, stepping closer so he could hide under the umbrella as well. “Actually, I’m running early. I don’t mind, really.”

“I uh, well, sure, thanks.” He said articulately, his sociability surely continuing to impress.

“Lead the way.” As they started down the street, shoulders nearly touching, he offered. “I’m Clover, by the way.”

“Qrow.” He replied. With his profile now in his sight-line, it made him realize his left ear was pierced, a little silver shamrock twinkling there. Huh, cute. “Soo,” He drawled, feigning obliviousness, “You just moved in, didn’t you?”

“Yep, all the way from Montana.” Clover replied.

“Montana?” He felt his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, easily picturing lush forests and grand mountain ranges and snow fall ten feet deep. He had to wonder if the guy also had a deer head mounted on the wall and a bearskin rug in his living room. “That’s quite a move. Why’d you come out all this way? It not like Wilmington is the Los Angeles of North Carolina.”

Clover laughed. It was a very nice sound that had Qrow’s heart pattering harder than the rain along their nylon shelter. “That’s an interesting way of putting it. Honestly though? The beach.”

“Okay, fair.” He conceded. Wrightsville Beach was less than an hour away from here, and was the one of the east coast’s most beautiful tourist attractions for a reason. The stunning, deep blue water and wide sandy banks were easy attractions to an appreciative eye and had a calming effect on the soul.  Back during his more insomniac years in Uni, Qrow would oftentimes head down there just to capture the sunrises on his easel.

“I’ve always loved the sea, so when my job offered a relocation opportunity out here, I knew I’d be stupid not to take it.” Clover continued. “Kind of hoping for some time off to rent a boat, maybe do some fishing.”

Well, now the aquatic creatures above them made more sense.

Qrow stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to keep them warm. “You fish?”

“I know, it’s about the most boring thing you’ve ever heard, right?” He joked.

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug, focusing more on the cracks in the concrete as he hesitantly admitted, “Actually, I uh, I bird watch.”

Immediately as the words flew out of his mouth, he regretted them. Of all the things he could have said! What was he thinking, telling this cute guy about his dumb, weird hobby? Now, he probably thought he was about as drab as a broken lamp.

“Really?”

…So then why did he sound so awestruck?

Qrow swallowed his nerves. “Yeah, my parents were ornithologists and they were a little obsessed with their work. It’s why they named me and my sis after birds. Raven hated it.” He did another shoulder roll, feeling that blush creeping up on him again. “But my parents were always so fascinated and one day I decided I wanted to try and see what was so special about ‘em and well, I didn’t care for all the science and stuff, but I liked watching them fly and build nests. I even learned how to do a few calls.”

“Really?” Clover’s eyes widened. “Can I hear one?”

“What? No!” Now he was positive the blush was on his face.

“I won’t laugh, I promise.”

He just shook his head even more vehemently.

“Alright, then I guess I’ll just have to improvise.”

What?

Clover cupped a hand over his mouth, took a deep breath, and then let out a series of loud squawks. “Caw-caw! Caw-caw!”

Qrow watched him a moment, briefly flabbergasted, and then just started to laugh. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Bird-calling.” He replied innocently.

“That is not bird calling.”

“Well then,” He lent forward in the small space the umbrella offered, his smile coy. “Guess I got to learn from the master.”

Yep. He was red a tomato, for sure. “Alright, jeez, you swindler. I’ll do one.” Ignoring the way Clover’s face lit up like a damn Christmas tree, Qrow regretfully unearthed his hands from their temporary warmth. He thought over which one to do that was both easy for him but also impressive. “Okay, this’ll be a canary.”

He’d learned how to do that one in high school, and it taken him months to get it just right. The moment he did though, he belted it out randomly in the halls, enjoying the slight chaos it caused the other kids as they tried to find the source of the noise. Just like he used to back then, he pressed the pinkies of both hands to his lips, curled back his tongue a bit, and whistled through them, vibrating his vocal chords just enough to make the sharp trill of the bright yellow bird, the sound easily piercing over the falling rain.

Unlike his classmates though, Clover wasn’t fooled by who had made the noise. “Wow.” He breathed. “That was spectacular.”

“Ehehe, not really.” Qrow rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes really.” He knocked his arm gently with the umbrella stem. “Don’t cut yourself so short. I bet that was hard to learn how to do.”

How was this guy so nice? Helplessly, he scrambled to respond, “I mean, not as hard as the seagull.” At the other’s sudden, eager grin, he gave a firm, “No.”

“Aah, alright.” Clover surrendered, “We’re almost at the stop anyways.”

Qrow glanced forward, spotting the familiar black structure just a few feet away. As the approached it, he ducked under the curved roof that functioned as a blissful shelter form the rain, and turned back to the man who had gotten him here, realizing this was probably goodbye.

He was surprised by how disappointed he suddenly felt.

“Uh, thanks, for, you know.” He said, gesturing around himself as words again failed him. There was a reason he never took public speaking in school.

“It was no trouble, really.” Clover replied, that easygoing smile back on his face.

He crossed his arms, rubbing the exposed skin idly. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah – oh, wait.” Suddenly, the other stepped into the shelter with him, flipping his umbrella upside down and leaning it up against the bench. Then in one smooth motion, he yanked the green hoodie up and over his back, running a hand through his hair to fix the little quiff at the front.

Qrow’s brain short-circuited because whoa, muscles.

Clover held it out to him. “Here, you can borrow this.”

“Huh?” He looked from those nicely toned arms to the offering to his eyes, suddenly catching up to the situation. “No, I couldn’t.”

“I have time to go back and get another. Besides,” He winked, short circuiting Qrow’s brain again, “It’s not like you don’t know where I live.”

Oh. Oooh.

Qrow was experienced enough to recognize the gesture for what it really was: a surefire guarantee that they’d run into each other again.

Now how could he ever refuse that?

“Suppose I do.” He quipped back as suave as he could. He took the hoodie, pulling it on. It smelt like pine, heady and rich and despite their similar heights, it still dwarfed his leaner frame. Some of the other’s body heat still lingered in the fabric and he couldn’t help but melt into the much-needed warmth. He fingered one of the strings, trying to remain casual as he subtly offered, “I’ll return it tonight. Around…?”

“6:30.” Clover rested the umbrella back on his shoulder, expression just as sly. “Maybe we could catch some dinner too?”

Qrow felt his stomach flutter, face easing into a grin. “I’d like that.”

“Then it’s a date.” As he stepped back out into the rain, he winked at him again. “See you soon pretty bird.”

“See you.” He returned, watching the other leave, eyes scanning along his backside and appreciating the view.

Despite the dreary beginnings, it was shaping up to be a great morning after all.

[celestica-1988]

The sound of the wind

Paring: Mick Mars x Female Reader.

Warning: fluff?

Mick has never been an anxious person, but since the cab left the flat he shared with Vince, Tommy and Nikki a storm of question invaded his mind.

What if the terror twins find funny to set the house on fire?

What if Vince and his dick scored and made a girl pregnant?

What if Tommy and Nikki will become dads too?

A terrible headache was forming like someone put a circle of metal around his head and kept squeeze it.

Shut the fuck up, he said to himself.

When I’ll be back the house will be still there, there won’t be tree manchildren ready or not to become dads.

No.

Everything will be all right, it was time to switch from Mick, the momma to the old and dear loud and aggressive guitarist ready to kick everyone’s ass.

He arrived at the airport, he entered it and in two hours he was in an airplane directed to the Hawaii, he booked a room in an hotel in a town some miles away from Honolulu to be quiet and not spent too much.

He though it was a good idea, but now he wasn’t so convinced, San Diego was away from LA, had the sea and was nearer if something happens and most of all he could go there with his car.

The hostess clearly disapproved his habits with vodka. When he bought a whole bottle he watched him disgusted like he was an old alcohol addict.

Mick gave her the “shut the fuck up, bitch!” glares and gave a sip to his vodka.

Since then they ignored each other.

What a wonderful beginning, said Mick to himself.

Finally the plane landed, the sun was shining, it was way too hot and full of people for Mick’s tastes, but it ignored it and grabbed his suitcases, the he froze.

There were some girl with flowers crowns and necklaces to place on tourists, no way in hell he would have them on him.

He looked around panicked, there were no other exit, flowers or stay two weeks in the airport.

Reluctantly he chose the flowers, he approached a girl and tried in every way to make her understand that, although flowers were nice, he didn’t want them. The girl smiled, but ignored him and put it a crown of flowers in his head and a necklace.

The poor guitarist was ashamed as hell when he exited the airport and look for a cab to take at him at his hotel, luckily the taxi driver didn’t say anything, probably used to tourist unhappy with flowers.

During the drive his thoughts raced to Los Angels more than usual and then he wanted to. He repeated firmly to himself that his bandmates were tree adults, able to take care of themselves.

He arrived at the hotel, he was small but nice, with two many light colors, but what was he waiting?

He wasn’t in a dark castle in Transylvania.

He took his luggage and went to the hall.

“Good morning, I booked a room at Deal’s name.”

“Yes, here it is. Can you give me your ID, mister Deal?”

He nodded and when all the papers were filled he went in his room, small but nice, with a terrace on the ocean. He arranged his clothes in the wardrobe and then sit on the bed.

What could he do?

Maybe he could go to the swimming pool, he wore a black short as bath suit, took the necessary and he started his first day of vacation.

He chose the more shadowed beach chair and umbrella and laid on it with his arm crossed on his chest. He knew it was an unusual position to rest, but not so much. He realized how he was wrong he was when every kid  who saw him pointed the finger at him.

“Mum, look at this man.”

“Stop it, it’s rude!”

But also the mother look was judgmental at her best.

It would be a long long vacation

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You didn’t know why do you chose Hawaii as a place for your vacation.

It wasn’t so different from your country, Jamaica, but the wind told you to go there and you listen to the wind because you were a daughter of nature.

You found a nice hotel some miles away from the capital of the Hawaii and you stopped there. It had everything: comfortable rooms, good cooking, next to the sea and with a pool.

It was time to go to the swimming pool  (you preferred the sea in the morning and the pool in the afternoon) and you sighted.

You were proud to be Jamaican, you were proud to be black, but you were also a goth.

Your secret wish was to have a proper white skin, white as porcelain and you feel a little guilt for it.

Whatever, you said.

You put on a costume, took your bag and left the room. When you reached the swimming pool you frowned, your favorite chair was already taken by a man. He was older than you and rested with his hands crossed on the chest. Was he vampire?

Shrugging your shoulder you walked towards him and sat on the chair next to him, you laid in silence, but after a while you got annoyed: Dracula didn’t take his eyes out of you.

“Never saw a black girl before?”

You spat aggressively.

“I never saw a goth black girl before.”

His voice was calm and soothing.

“How do you know I’m a goth?” “Black clothes, chose on of the most shadowed chair, skin as pale as possible.

I just connected the dots, kid.”

“I have a name, oldie.” He laughed sarcastically.

“I’m Mick, kid.”

“I’m Y/N, oldie.”

“Cool, now enough with human interaction.

Bye, Y/N!” The man stopped to look at you and after five second you heard him snore.

You shook your head and got up. You stretched your body and walked towards the swimming pool.

Maybe this time the wind made a mistake, your paintings were average and the only person who talked to you was that weird Dracula.

You jumped into the pool and swam lazily, you were not the one who hurried things, and you were sure that sometimes the man was still looking at you.

You couldn’t decide if it was flattering or creepy.

At dinner time you showed in the room with your favorite black dress, a waitress stopped you, she seems quite embarrassed.

“Miss Y/S, I’m really sorry to ask you that, but could you share the table with mister Deal?

It will be just temporary, we are out of tables.”

“It’s okay. No problems, I will meet new people.” The waitress seemed relieved.

You walked to you table and gasped: mister Deal was that Dracula man.

“Here we go again, goth kid.”

“My name is Y/N, mister Deal.”

You said slow and clear the surname of the man.

“Call me Mick Mars, cut with this bullshit.”

You sat and looked at him suspicious.

“What’s your real name?” “Deal, Mick Mars is my stage name and I prefer to be called this way.

“Stage name? Are you in a band or something?” “I’m in a band. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Jamaica, but I currently live in LA. I’m a wannabee artist.” “I see.”

The man stayed in silence for a while, until when the waitress was serving you dinner.

“Never been to the Sunset Strip?” You shook your head, your roommate tried hundreds of times to convince to go there, but you refused because it was loud and messy for you.

“No.” “Next time you are in the city, come to the Sunset Strip and look for a band called Mötley Crüe, you will find me shredding on my guitar.” “Motley Crue? My roommate always said she would like to be railed by the bassist, Mikki Sex?”

Mick started to laugh and you realized what the hell you just said, you would gladly leave the room if the second course of the meal wasn’t arrived. You felt like a perfect idiot, so you froze in the position of a queen on her throne.

“Ah, that Nikki Six bitch! The girls always hitting on him.

Another one that wanna be reailed by that motherfucker.”

The second course came –fish – you ate it so fast that you risked seriously to choke, then left as fast as you can. Thanks to your big fat mouth you did another dick figure, you would never found again the guts to sit with Mick Mars again.

After walking for some times aimlessly, you decided to stop in a bar and ordered a pina colada, you loved coconut since you were a kid.

After some minutes someone sat to the stool next to yours, you didn’t mind but you weren’t in the right mood to chat with a stranger.

“Oh, here we go again Y/N. It’s a pity that you ran away, the dessert was really good.”

You froze: it was Mick Mars.

“Hi, M-M-Mick.”

You stuttered red as a dark tomato.

“What’s gotten into you suddenly?”

“It’s just the story of my friend I told you.” You whispered in a very low tone of voice.

“That? The guys are used to it and they are happy. If your friends is pretty she surely would be railed by those animals. No need to be ashamed.” “It’s just sometimes I say the dumbest shit I could say.” “You can’t be worse  than Tommy.” You smiled shyly.

After all maybe you can be friends with the L.A vampire.

 ……………………………………………………………………………………………..

 The day passed and you and Mick were inseparable.

You walk around the little town and the nature that surrounded the place, you drove together in the swimming in pool and one time you dragged him to the sea.

It was the only time you used some sort of violence on him, when he was an inch away from the water you watched him. Your smiled faded via at the view of him in pain.

“What’s up?” You asked to him, leaving his les and kneels next to him.

“It’ my back. I suffer from ankylosing spondylitis. It is a type of arthritis in which there is a long-term inflammation of the joints of the spine.[2] Typically the joints where the spine joins the pelvis are also affected. I always had back sore. Stiffness of the affected joints generally worsens over time. I’ve been diagnosed it at seventeen.” “I’m really sorry, Mick. I would never do that if I knew it.” You two came back to your “studio”. It was a simple blanket placed in the shadows of a group of palms where there were your colors, your brushes and an easel.

Since you met Mick you found new energy and inspiration so you wanted him around. Usually you painted places of the islands but in a post-apocalyptic way.

“Y/N, why do you need me so much when you paint?”

He chuckled the guitarist.

“Because you are my inspiration.”

“So if your painting are so dark it’s because of me.

I don’t know if feel flattered to it or scared.” “Why scared? One day we’ll exploit the heart till this paintings will be reality.”

You would also made a portrait of him but you were way to shy to ask him.

“As inspiration I want to be paid, do me a portrait.” “It’s okay.” You just finished a painting, so you’ll grin.

“Come on, mister Mars. Go in front of me and let’s started this portrait.”

For a minute he was surprised than he did what you jokingly ordered to him.

He was a sexy man with long black hair, blue eyes and a hint of moustache and beard, and that cigarette made him even sexier.

You had to put all concentration in painting every particular of him instead of what you could do in your bedroom.

It took so long that you thought that after all you would give up an took him to you room and do a lot of bad things. You didn’t know how but you found yourself in love with Mick.

Oh, shit.

 ………………………………..

 The day before you left you found the courage of tell him everything, but in your own way.

You wore Mick’s favorite bikini and put everything you need in a bag, sighting you left your room.

You knocked at Mick’s one who looked you surprised and – you could swear on your mother – a hint of desire.

“Hey, weirdo. Why are you here?”

“Midnight bath!” “No way!”

“Come on! Tomorrow I must leave to come back to Los Angeles.”

He sighted.

“Ok, let’s go.”

“No bath suit?” “This short will be okay.” You run out of the hotel laughing like you were children.

Once you arrived at the beach, you dropped the bag and ran towards the ocean, Mick was next to you.

You swam for a while than stopped and spread legs and arms letting the movements of the waves caressed you.

The sky was beautiful, so full of stars that looked like shining diamonds.

“Woah! That’s place is beautiful.”

Said Mick.

“Well, I brought you there to tell you a thing.

I felt in love with you, Mick.” For a moment there was just the sound of the wind.

“How can a girl like you love a man like me, with my disease?” “I don’t know and I don’t care.

Do- Do you love me back?”

You asked, scared to be rejected.

Mick swam next to you, put you in his arm for a long hug and then looked you in the eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.” Than you kissed passionately so many times till the back of Mick let you.

Than you came back in your original position except Mick’s hand was locked to yours.

“Mick…” “Yea, baby?” “When I will be back in L.A I will go to the Sunset Strip, I wanna find you there.”

“The day after tomorrow I will leave too and you will find me.”

“So, let’s meet in Los Angeles.” You both nodded and kissed slowly.

In the sky the star kept shining.

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; A Year of Sunsets (Part 1/5); PG

listen.... au where taem moves to the forest and paints sunsets every day and jong is his neighbor and also there are wolf shapeshifters

There’s silence for a moment as Jonghyun expects him to say something and Taemin doesn’t have anything to say; then Jonghyun’s lips twitch up and he leans over to open up the box he brought over. “I got you some stuff, like, welcoming presents,” he says.

1-2-3-4-5

Taemin is so in love.

He’s so in love with his new life. His new house, his new empty garden, his new lack of close neighbors. This is what he’s been all about for years. A cute little log cabin in the woods. It’s got a sweet porch that he’s gonna hang some strawberry plants from, a nice big fireplace, a backyard that fades out right into a path into the trees… he stands out front, right where Kibum’s car and the moving van were not five minutes ago, and just looks at his new place with the happiest sigh he’s ever sighed. This is perfect.

The hot June sun is just about getting ready to start setting behind the trees and if Taemin leans a little bit to the left, he can see a thin trail of smoke a little bit away. That’s his closest neighbor, about a twenty minute stroll down the little dirt road through the forest. There are other houses in these woods, but most are unoccupied. Most people live in the little town near the woods, but not actually in them, and even then, it’s not very many. It’s kind of why Taemin got his house so cheap, to be honest; legal shapeshifter forests aren’t exactly prime real estate location.

Taemin doesn’t mind at all; he knows full well that shapeshifter communities that live on actual reserves keep to themselves. It’s not like they're vicious human eaters that just want to maul him in his new bed--and even if they were, there are laws to protect humans from them, just as there are laws to protect them from humans. He expects people that spend the grand majority of their time as their animal forms want even less to do with paperwork than full-time human people do. They’re probably just deeper in the forest, doing their wolfy things, hunting deer, snuggling their pups, not wanting to be human or around humans, the usual. He can relate, kind of.

Taemin’s never really been the social type. He’ll just go to the town for groceries, and take longer drives to the city to visit his friends if he’s feeling lonely, and that will be perfect. He’ll also have to talk to his new neighbor eventually, he guesses, but it’s not like he’s dreading it or anything. He’s sure that they’ll be friendly enough, and if they’re not, they’re a mile away anyway. It won’t be hard to avoid them. If they haven’t come by to welcome him to the foresthood in a week, he’ll go over there and introduce himself just to be polite.

For now, he wraps his arms around himself, hugging himself, because he’s just so fucking happy to have finally achieved his dream. And he’s barely over thirty. He’s got his dream house, his dream location, his dream job.... and speaking of which, he should get started, before the sun goes down.

With one last happy sigh for now, he slips inside of his new home. Passing all of the unopened boxes and lazily arranged furniture, he grabs his easel--the very first thing he unpacked--under his arm. He picks up his box of painting stuff and a pillow as well, and with those under his other arm, he heads straight back outside. He thinks, for his first time, his first painting on his first day here, he wants to paint the view right from the road in front of his house.

He finds that big, flat boulder on the other side of the road he was eyeing up earlier, sets up his easel and canvas in front of it, throws the pillow onto it, sits down, gets all of his colors ready next to him, and paints the sun just peeking out from behind the corner of a beautiful log cabin, tall trees casting shadows against the land, and a little, swirling line of grey in the distance.

~

When Taemin finishes setting up his little collection of grass Pokémon plushies and one pink glass tentacle dildo on the mantle is when he figures that he should probably go introduce himself to his new neighbor. It’s been five days; he doesn’t really know the etiquette of greeting new neighbors, but he thinks they should at least know each other by now. A few hours remain until it’ll be time to paint the day’s sunset. If he’s asked to stay for a meal or something, it won’t be long enough for him to get too tired out. He turns to face the rest of his living room, stopping for a moment to hold himself again and sigh happily. It’s lovely. Lovely and cozy and warm and perfect.

He practically bounces to his couch, fixes up the blanket thrown over it, and glances into the mirror he hung up above it yesterday. Hmm. His black hair is a little mussed. He runs his fingers through it to make it look “casually” messy instead of “I just spent the last three hours rearranging my living room” messy. It totally works. Passing through the kitchen to leave the house, he pauses to frown at the chips and poptarts he has on his counters. Should he bring something? To be polite? None of this is even good stuff to bring over to someone’s house. And he’s the new one here; he shouldn’t be expected to bring the gifts, right? Ugh. This is why he doesn’t like social shit.

Fuck it, he decides, he’ll just tell them that he was going to bring something but hasn’t gotten settled enough to get any real cooking done. It’s not like it’s not true. He runs his fingers through his hair one more time as he grabs the handle of his front door, and then there’s a knock on his back door.

He turns, confused. Who the fuck is knocking at his back door? Or, well--it can probably only be one person, so--why are they there instead of here in front? He heads back there instead with another glance at himself in the mirror. When he pulls open the door, he’s confident that his hair is pretty okay for a dude that just spent the last three hours rearranging his living room.

Also, when he pulls open the door, he finds someone with tan skin, dark hair, deep brown eyes, and a charming smile.

“Hi,” they say cheerily. They’re holding a box in both hands, so they just lift a few fingers in a wave at Taemin instead of offering their hand to shake or something. Well, good. Taemin gets paranoid about what people think of his handshakes and he always winds up gripping too hard to meet the crushing expectations of masculinity placed upon him by the patriarchy. “I’m Jonghyun,” his neighbor says, “your friendly neighborhood… neighbor.” They pause for a moment with a little frown at their box; Taemin feels like they don’t rehearse things nearly as much as he does. “Friendly neighborhood resident,” they say, looking back up. “Or, person. Empty genderless void. Whatever. He pronouns, though. I’m friendly. That’s the point.” He shrugs with a little smile; Taemin finds himself baffled yet also pleasantly informed. “Sorry if coming to your back door was weird,” Jonghyun goes on, “it’s just, way faster to cut through the woods than go around the actual path.”

“Oh, uh,” Taemin says, realizing that he should probably reply to something that Jonghyun is saying. “No, it’s cool,” he grins. Already he’s learning great tips for living in this area. He was legitimately about to walk the whole twenty minute long way. Maybe he’ll stop exploring the forest in front of his place on his daily searches for good sunset viewing spots and start working on the trees between his house and Jonghyun’s. He notices Jonghyun readjust the box in his arms and curses internally. He’s being rude. “Uh, come in, please,” he says, stepping back and holding the door open wider. “I was just about to go visit you myself, actually,” he admits.

“Ahh, yeah, sorry about that too.” Jonghyun laughs a little sheepishly as he steps inside. He sets his box down on Taemin’s coffee table and turns back to him quickly. “I meant to come greet you before, but I thought you weren’t gonna be here until next week, and then I had to go to the store to get some stuff, and then I didn’t know how early was too early, and then I didn’t want to interrupt your lunch, and I tried coming around after dinnertime yesterday but you weren’t here, and… well, yeah.” This Jonghyun sure does talk a lot, Taemin notes. It’s kind of endearing, how he lets his words get carried by his excitement. It cleared up all of Taemin’s questions about why he hadn’t come to visit yet, at least.

“After dinner isn’t a good time for me, no,” he hums, picking one things Jonghyun’s said to reply to. “That’s when I go out to paint the sunset. Um, see?” He gestures at the first painting he did out here not a week ago at it’s new home above his fireplace. Then he gestures at the empty canvas and box of paints on the kitchen table, waiting for tonight’s adventure. His other paintings from the last few nights are in the mess of boxes and packing peanuts that he’s going to clean up into his art room soon. “It’s kind of my job,” he grins, turning back to Jonghyun. “One sunset a day. They’re really simple, but really fun, and every time they’re different, and I pretend like they take me like, three times as long to paint as they really do so I can charge more.” He shrugs unashamedly. He’s gotta eat.

“Sounds nice,” Jonghyun says. “You’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” Taemin smiles, proud. He does work hard. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks suddenly, remembering that Jonghyun is a guest in his house. “You can sit, too, I gue--yeah. Feel free.” He smiles politely to cover up how bad he is at talking. Jonghyun smiles back, looking vaguely sympathetic to Taemin’s efforts, as he sits. As long as he doesn’t point it out.

“Water, please,” he says, and Taemin nods. Water. He can do that. He slips into his kitchen and fills up a glass. Halfway through, he realizes that he hasn’t even told Jonghyun his name yet. Fuck. What a great first impression he’s making here. When he brings Jonghyun’s water back out, Jonghyun is looking over one of his little business cards on the table with a curious smile. Taemin hopes he’s enjoying the “Corporate Banana, He who Banans” label in the bottom corner. He had to pay an extra two dollars for that. Jonghyun looks up when Taemin offers him his water and takes it with another polite smile. “Taemin, right?” he asks, “he pronouns?” and frick.

“Yeah, sorry,” Taemin says. He can’t believe Jonghyun had to get his info off of a shitty business card first. “I’m not good at the whole… talking to people thing.”

“That’s okay,” Jonghyun says, waving off his concerns as he takes a sip of their water. “Sometimes I’m not either. I kind of shift. Between being a social butterfly and kind of a lone wolf, you know?” Taemin doesn’t really know, being always on the lone wolf end of that spectrum himself, but he nods anyway. There’s silence for a moment as Jonghyun expects him to say something and Taemin doesn’t have anything to say; then Jonghyun’s lips twitch up and he leans over to open up the box he brought over. “I got you some stuff, like, welcoming presents,” he says. Taemin breathes a sigh of relief. Thank fuck Jonghyun knows how to save a conversation. He sits down next to Jonghyun, peeping into the box curiously as he pulls stuff out.

“It’s just, you know, some things that you might not know you need, to be living out here,” Jonghyun tells him. “Like… mosquito bracelets.” He pulls out a little packet of coiled rubber bracelets that Taemin takes curiously. There’s five in there, all different cute colors. “They smell a little weird, but I kind of like it, to be honest. You don’t even have to wear them in the house. Just hang one on your headboard, you know, and over the table or whatever, and they’ll do their jobs.” He shrugs; Taemin mirrors him for lack of a better reply and stuffs the packet into his pocket. “I also got you some fire crystals,” Jonghyun says, pulling out a new little packet with much more enthusiasm. “If you throw them into the fire they change it’s color and it’s really cool.”

“Ooh,” Taemin says, grabbing the bag and flipping it to read the back. He’s always wanted to try these. Jonghyun smiles at his excitement and pulls more stuff out of the box.

“A double flashlight, so you don’t trip over yourself outside… batteries, because the power goes out here quite a bit in winter… swiss army knife, because, well, you know… a fancy water filter bottle in case you run out of water on a hike or something so you can drink from the lake or the river… a compass, the town is south east, deeper into the woods is north west... oh--” He reaches to the very bottom of the box and pulls out his final items: graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. “S’mores,” he says brightly. “Very essential.”

“True,” Taemin says, making grabby hands greedily. He was gonna get some of these the next time he went shopping, eager to make some with the first fire he sets up in his cool new fireplace as soon as it got cold enough to justify a fire. He looks at everything else laid out on the table as well, just little things to help him adjust. This is all so sweet. “Um, thank you, really,” he says, not entirely sure how to express his feelings. When Jonghyun looks at him though, a gentle ease in his deep eyes and toothy smile, Taemin feels reassured that his small words of thanks were good enough.

“No problem,” Jonghyun says. “I was gonna make you cookies or something, but I’m not that great at baking.”

“I am,” Taemin grins. He’s great at fruit pies and berry muffins and putting obscene amounts of strawberries between layer cakes. “I can bring something over next week, if you want,” he offers. It’ll make up for how awkward and unprepared he is for their first meeting now.

“Uh, actually,” Jonghyun says, “I’m not gonna be here next week.” He takes a sheepish sip of his water as he leans back into the corner of Taemin’s couch. “I’m gonna leave soon, I think for a month or two. Vacation.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Taemin over his glass. Taemin raises his own.

“Hmm?” he asks. Living out here is practically a permanent vacation for him, to be honest. “To the city?” Sounds awful.

“No, no, just deeper into the woods,” Jonghyun says. He waves a hand towards what Taemin thinks is the lake. “Northwest. Connect with my inner nature, you know? Hunt and shit. I’ve been really itching to go out there for a week or so, but,” he shrugs at Taemin and gestures around his living room, “I wanted to make sure I welcomed you to the forest before I left.”

“Oh. Aw. I mean--or--” Taemin runs his fingers through his hair with a grimace. That’s not an “aw” thing. It’s more of a… he doesn’t know. Helpful? Considerate? Just--”Thanks, again,” he says. “You didn’t have to postpone it for me.” Taemin is sure that he could’ve managed on his own for a lil bit without Jonghyun, but it’s touching that he chose to stay.

“Don’t worry about it, I never really plan it anyway,” Jonghyun says. “Usually I kind of just… go. For a few days, or I think the longest was five months, maybe?” He frowns up at Taemin’s ceiling in thought before shrugging again. “I don’t know. Until I feel like coming back again.”

“Like shifting back into a social butterfly, you mean?” Taemin grins, gathering up all of the stuff Jonghyun brought over and putting it back in the box absentmindedly. He’ll unpack it again with everything else that he has left. He glances up in time to see a little smirk pulling up the corners of Jonghyun’s lips.

“Something like that, yeah,” he agrees. Taemin’s smile grows with a tiny bit of pride. He totally nailed that sly little joke. He understands. It’s like how he himself is only going to go to the city every once in a while if he feels lonely, except apparently Jonghyun goes from mild isolation to like… super isolation. He bets there are some pretty cool sunset spots out there in the woods. Maybe he’ll ask Jonghyun to give him a map or something when he comes back. They fall into silence a second time; it’s less awkward than before, but Taemin still finds himself pulling Jonghyun’s box into his lap and drawing little circles with his fingers on the sides. It’s around three in the afternoon; too late for lunch but definitely too early for dinner. There’s not really a reason to ask Jonghyun to stay, but there isn’t one to ask him to leave either. Taemin has no idea what he’s supposed to do.

Luckily, after another few moments of silence, Jonghyun decides for him.

“Welp,” he says, standing up and downing the rest of the water. “I’ll let you finish getting settled in.” He smiles at Taemin and holds out his glass. “Thanks, and welcome to the forest. You can always come visit me if you want, if I’m in.”

“Oh--yes, okay, thank you,” Taemin says. He stands up as well, taking his glass back. “Um--have fun on your vacation.” When he gets back, Taemin will bake him a little something something, as a proper thank you present. That’ll make them even. Jonghyun nods with friendly little smile, then heads out of Taemin’s back door, waving over his shoulder.

A few hours later, when Taemin wanders through the trees between their houses to find a good sunset spot, he notices that for the first time all week, there isn't a little trail of smoke rising from Jonghyun’s chimney. He’s already gone.

[boymeetsweevil]

cougar

Grouping: Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: ~1400, sex implied but nothing explicit, insignificant age difference

Summary: ...guys like him give off two very conflicting vibes. The first says ‘Wow, look at this handsome young man, I hope my kids are that beautiful’. The second says, ‘Wow, I want to have his kids’.

part 2

“What do you think of Kim Taehyung,” your friend Sunmi asks you. Tilting your head in thought, you swirl the contents of your red solo cup gently and roll the question around in your head.

The young man in question is standing at the opposite end of the frat basement you’ve been dragged to, playing a raucous game of foosball with his friends Park Jimin and Kim Namjoon. He’s smiling that famous, boxy grin of his, showing of teeth that are white and even. The strong and sharp curve of his jawline is also on display from where you’re leaning against the wall. When he scores a goal, he throws his head back and gives what can best be described as a roar.

“Hey! You heard me, right?” Sunmi nudges you in the ribs with a pointy elbow and you hiss before rubbing the spot tenderly.

“He’s fine,” you grumble back. You can feel Sunmi giving you a blank stare. She doesn’t believe you.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What do you want me to say? He’s just a little sophomore.”

“Oh please, you and I both know that he’s not your average underclassman. He’s even friends with Seokjin. Plus, he looks like a model and he gets more ass than some of the seniors on this campus. More than you too,” she says, counting each statement off on her fingers.

“He’s still a sophomore,” you say, although you can’t deny anything Sunmi just said. At that same moment, Taehyung turns and catches your gaze and holds it. Your cheeks heat up when his friends follow Taehyung’s line of sight to you. They jeer and say something that was probably lewd based on the way Taehyung snaps and reaches to put Jimin in a headlock.

“He likes you, you know. He told me at the swim meet a few weeks ago. And I know you like him. Just admit it.”

Sunmi’s words don’t surprise you. You had a very strong hunch that Kim Taehyung was crushing on you. He was always lingering next to your easel in painting class and always looking away with rosy cheeks when you caught him staring.

“But he’s so young. It’s weird,” you bury your head in your hands.

“God, you act like you’re 50 years old or something. You’re only in your early twenties, and so is he. You’re not preying on him. It’s not weird!”

“Yeah it is,” you gripe, “You know why? Because guys like him give off two very conflicting vibes. The first says ‘Wow, look at this handsome young man. I hope my kids are that beautiful’. The second says, ‘Wow, I want to have his kids’. That’s weird, Sunmi.”

“You’re thinking about this too much. It’s not weird, that’s a shitty excuse. You’ve been brainwashed into thinking that it’s only okay for men to date people younger than them.” It’s your turn to glare at her.

“Sounds like you didn’t drop that Introductory Feminism course after all,” your voice overly saccharine. She rewards your sass by sticking out her tongue.

“You’re being ridiculous. You guys like each other, you’re both consenting adults. It’s so gross watching him try to impress you and you try not to look impressed. If you don’t do anything, I will.” 

She narrows her eyes at you and you take a step back to mirror the look back at her. “You wouldn’t dare. I’m your ride home.”

“Namjoon will give me a ride back.” She turns on her heel, long hair swinging behind her, leaving you by the wall to gape like a fish. You didn’t think she would actually do anything. Your friendship was full of poking at one another with empty threats. Why the hell did it have to be real this time?

You watch as Sunmi taps Taehyung on the shoulder and gestures to where you’ve been lurking. He looks back up at you and smiles shyly. You send him a warning glare and he smiles wider. Suddenly you’re feeling thirsty and decide to take the long way back to the bowl of spiked punch. You let the crowd of dancing bodies swallow you up and fill your cup to the brim before chugging most of it in one gulp. Someone taps your shoulder and you turn around on instinct but regret it immediately.

“Hi.” Taehyung’s voice is much deeper than you remembered and you realize he’s also bigger than you expected when you peer up at him. He doesn’t seem as young somehow. “Sunmi said I should ask you to dance. Do you want to dance?”

“I can’t dance,” you say quickly.

“You can’t dance?” You shake your head immediately, desperate for the conversation to end so you can drive home and eat your feelings.

“So, that wasn’t your center stage solo at the fall dance showcase?” Shit. You think you feel the tell-tale prick of sweat at the back of your neck.

“It was,” you admit stiltedly, having been caught in a lie, “I meant...I don’t want to dance.”

“You don’t want to dance, or you don’t want to dance with me?”

“I don’t want to dance with you. Nothing personal. I just don’t fraternize with freshmen.” You pick at an invisible loose thread on your skirt instead of looking at him.

“I’m a sophomore.”

“Good for you,” you sniff. 

Taehyung’s standing close enough that you can smell his cologne. It’s a clean smell that reminds you of clear, dark blue water. It has you a little woozy. Or maybe that’s the punch. Either way, you stick your hand out for balance and end up bracing yourself on his shoulder. A large warm hand winds itself around your waist and he chuckles in your ear.

“Easy there,” he smiles down at you softly, long lashes framing his big, pretty eyes. He raises an eyebrow as you continue to drink in his features, his thumb rubbing idle circles against the swell of your hip. Your expression becomes resolute as you grab his hand and lead him up the stairs and outside the party.

“Where’s your room,” you ask once you’re crossing the foyer.

“We gonna have a sleepover?” He ogles your figure in an easy way and you have to stop yourself from smiling. You drop his hand and turn to raise an expectant eyebrow at him. He bites down on his tongue to keep a cheeky grin from spreading.

“Third floor, second door on the right.”

Sunmi watches from her seat on Namjoon’s lap from across the room. She nearly cackles at your frightened expression when Taehyung walks up behind you at the punch bowl. Squinting, she leans forward to read your lips and can see you say the word freshman. 

“Come on, don’t be a bitch,” she whispers, almost falling if not for Namjoon’s sudden grip on her elbow.

Sunmi sees Taehyung inch closer as you wobble, having drank too much at the pregame in your shared apartment and in the frat basement. He whispers something with his arm wrapped around you. She smiles fondly at your reaction, her heart warming for you a little as you peer up at him. There’s an amazed expression on your face, your infatuation clear as day. Once you retreat from the basement with Taehyung trailing eagerly behind, she turns around to face Namjoon with a smug smile tugging at her lips.

“You owe me a term paper.” 

“You got a text.” Taehyung’s voice rouses you out of the cat nap you were taking. With eyes still closed, you roll over and prop yourself up on him to grab at your phone on the nightstand.

Upon entering his room, you had kicked off your heels and immediately began to whine about how your feet were killing you and you were freezing in your mini dress. Now, he admires how soft you look in the large threadbare sweatshirt you borrowed from him. The stretched neckline drops off one shoulder to reveal what will become a very noticeable hickey in the morning while the bunched up boxers you borrowed display similar bruises already marring the skin of your inner thighs and hips. His own back looks no better, striped with light pink raised lines from when you’d raked your nails down the length of his spine and a pretty shadow of your lipstick staining his cheeks, chest, and stomach.

You snort and turn your phone to show him the text you got from Sunmi. It reads:

see u @ brunch cougar hoe :) bring ur little freshman boyfriend 2