#also talking in the tags is just soo cool. you mean that I can just say whatever the hell I want and it WON'T show up on future reblogs?

[timeflow]

honestly i really like how you leave comments in the tags on every post and i love seeing you pop up in my notes <3

this is really kind, thank you :))

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part eight

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "The Old Therebefore (Acapella)" by Rachel Zegler, and "Suneater" by Leanna Firestone !!

a/n: its been soo long ah! i'm sorry! i've been BOOKED (what's new) anyways hopefully i can sort my shit out bc i love this story sm. also i didn't edit this bc at least i wrote it yk.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

The chill from the sheer stress of staring down the barrel of a gun makes the transition back into the howling winds that much easier. Staring back at the barn with the doors now being forced closed from the inside, you let Billy drag you away, and you're not even meaning to make it difficult by nearly stumbling with every step. He seems empathetic to your cause, not letting it affect the process of trying to get you somewhere safe.

Options were limited, more so now than before. Part of him wants to break down the front door of the house your little brother occupies and shove you and your precious guitar under a bed and hope it's enough, but with the way the walls are rocking in the wind as it was with the twister still a ways off, surviving long enough to have to claw you out from under the debris of a collapsed house certainly sounds like a daunting task.

Okay, new plan. Away from the house. Far away.

Behind the house, there's a series of rolling hills that expand in nearly every direction. Billy doesn't know much about surviving a tornado, but if he could just get you far enough out into this open field, the odds of it passing by so close to cause any harm were slimmer, right? It's not like cyclones could track or follow body heat- as far as he knew anyway, but right now it sure felt like it did. It was probably still miles away, but he couldn't hear past the racing winds.

You don't even say anything. You can't, even has the house and it's barn where Harvey is hopefully safe and sound disappear quickly from your view; thanks to the gray cloak of rain soaking your show dress and the notebook in your hand.

There's a flash in the cool darkness that the late afternoon turned into, a bright light tinted almost blue that you don't process even happened until it was gone. It's the following bout of thunder that startles you after, jolting you closer to Billy's side.

On what must be gut instinct alone he drops your hand to throw his arm around your back, more so pushing you now rather than pulling.

There's no viable destination, surrounded only by long grass whipping in the wind in a similar way to your hair, and rolling hills.

That'll have to do, Billy thinks, pushing you as gently as he can down into the little valley and shouting over the wind with his hand firmly on your back. "Lay down!"

"Huh?!" You snap out of your daze, through the storm to look at him.

"Lay down!" He repeats himself, pulling you down onto the ground with him and you tumble into the wet grass. He lands on top of you, legs tangled together and weighed down by your guitar case on his back which you're damn sure just knocked him hard in the back of the head.

His elbows are braced on either side of your head, and for a moment you get a chance to breathe without being drowned by the heavy rainfall. Nose to nose, you could feel Billy's warm breaths on your face, and you can tell he's feeling as relieved as you are even though he's the one being poured on right now- his eyes closed tight and chest heaving against yours.

God have mercy.

You have to close your eyes again to try and keep it together. You were upset with him, you know you were- but the reason is a long lost mystery right now with him laying on top of you in a ditch, trying possibly in vain to protect you from this dreadful storm.

You don't know how long your eyes are pinched shut before you feel his cold hand on your face, pushing your wet hair away from where it was clinging to your skin. "Are you okay?" He asks, and you can certainly hear him being so close.

You nod, leaning your cheek into his palm as he rests it against your cheek, brows furrowed in concentration and worry as he strokes your face with his thumb. "Fine." You answer, finding it hard still to catch your breath.

Unsure what else to do, you wrap your arms around his waist and hold on while he keeps the wind out of your face.

"We just gotta wait it out." He huffs, lifting his head slightly to look around, but it's impossible to see a damn single thing.

Having him so close erases any fear of being sucked away and thrown off miles high by this tornado, and your heart is beating fast- indiscernable from adrenaline or just... him.

With your eyes squeezed shut again, he can't tell if you really are okay, if you're panicking, and the raindrops soaking your skin make it hard to tell if you're crying.

"You're headed for heaven, sweet old hereafter..."

You open your eyes again when you hear him singing one of your own songs, your eyes coloured thoroughly with misunderstanding. It doesn't last long when he keeps going, the low tones of his voice bringing in recognition and even the beginnings of a smile that makes him feel comfortable with his decision to try and cheer you up.

"And I've got one foot in the door..."

Billy nudges your cheek gently with his knuckle, the playful smile on his lips prompting you to join in.

"But before I can fly up, I've loose ends to tie up, right here in the old therebefore."

You sing along with him this time, and gradually, line by line, you're getting louder and smiling ear to ear. Somewhere along the line you'd lost him, but that had never mattered to you. He didn't know all the words but he knew enough.

"When I'm pure like a dove, when I've learned how to love-"

He cuts you off abruptly, and you're surrounded by an unreal warmth laying on the cold ground as he kisses you like his life depended on it. Like he had been waiting his entire life for this, and right now, he's sure he was. If he was swept away by this tornado in a matter of seconds his only regret would be that he didn't get to kiss you more.

Your lips are cold, cheeks wet as his skin slides over yours and you can feel him breathing you in, heart and soul in their entirety. You were terrified before of losing another good thing, even though you had known from the moment you laid your eyes on him that this is what you had wanted.

"For someone who sings like an angel," He murmurs into your lips, pulling away just enough to get the words out and you can feel the slight curve of a smile there to match your own, "You sure do taste sweet as sin."

You had spent another week rolling around the hills of Crystal City, holding onto each other as tight as you had during the storm that blew you back together in the first place. The outside world, as far as the two of you were concerned, ceased to exist after you helped with a few repairs here and there, steering clear of the Booker's and their home.

"So," Billy grins, arms snaking around your waist from behind in the chilly water, pulling you back and close to his chest. "You write that song about me, sunshine?"

You're nearly shivering, but your cheeks still heat up as you drop your head back against his shoulder. "What song?" You ask, trying to fight the smile on your face as you scrub the water over your bare arms in some attempt to get clean.

He nudges his nose into your temple. "Any of 'em."

"One or two." You admit. "But to get this straight, you're confessing to reading my journal?"

"My mistake, I thought it was public art I was appreciating." You can feel him smirk against the damp skin of your cheek.

"So public you waited until it was unattended to read it without asking, huh?"

He shrugs, thumbing the incredibly soft skin on either side of your stomach. "I needed to really... soak it in, y'know? That depth of beauty needs its solitude to be loved correctly." He mumbles into your hair. "Like you."

You roll your eyes, turning and slipping out of his grip only to splash him, your free hand coming up to cover your chest under the summer sun. It's a beautiful day, a perfect day, even. "I'll sing you a new one tomorrow." You tell him, but he's quickly distracted.

"Hey, none of that!" He laughs, lifting his hand up to block the spray of creek water from his face.

He takes a swift step closer, the minor wave helping you back up faster away and Billy believes he's never seen anything brighter than that precious smile of yours.

"None of what?" You giggle, and with another quick movement he's grabbing your arms to free you up to his gaze again. Instead of fighting him on it though, you grab onto his wrists and fall limp backwards, dragging him into the shallow water with you which he wouldn't dare to resist.

The next night, the saloon was up and running again and oh, how it was a good night for a show. The air was buzzing with everyone being eager to forget their troubles- both perpetual or caused by the storm.

It's crowded, and your guitar case is to be the vessel of many a tip tossed from the hands of drunk men who were feeling particularly lucky in poker.

You could smell it in the air, tonight would be good.

You step up onto the stage after downing a warm shot of honey, grabbing your guitar and picking at it mindlessly to grab the attention of anyone who intended to listen. That number has greatly increased over the last few months, your name was being passed around like a bottle of strong whiskey in a friendly crowd. So, Billy watches as people quiet down, his eyes returning to you from his seat at a poker table where he was attempting to win something decent to contribute to your savings.

"Hope everyone's havin' a good night so far." You grin, forcing your gaze to scan the crowd instead of remaining anchored to Billy in the corner. "I figure it's likely everyone needs some cheerin' up, that was one hell of a tempest, wasn't it?"

There's some shouts of agreement, some confused mumbles at the term. Your smile splits your face and you nod. "Hey, but we're all here, ain't we? We should count that a blessing. And the sun is back, bigger and brighter than ever."

Your eyes meet Billy's again and you can just see the slight curve of his lips in one corner- he simply couldn't not smile like an idiot in your presence.

"That being said, this song is called Suneater."

The introduction earns you some laughs as you begin the first few chords, glancing down at the journal on the floor next to you to refresh your memory before you started singing.

"Angels danced the day that you were born, Oh, I'm so sure they celebrated when you arrived. You're so bright, I swear, you swallowed the sun And I am so in awe, just basking in your light."

The way you were looking at Billy every couple seconds is the only viable indicator that you wrote this about him, because surely, he was the farthest thing from a bask-able light. On top of that, he hadn't read it in your journal a few weeks earlier when he was feeling forgivably nosey. But you had written it this week, and it was possibly the fastest any song had ever come together from the very forefront of your mind.

"But I am just the one who swallowed the moon The only light that I have's just a reflection of you. You're the sea of tranquillity, You're all of my stars, You're Neptune and Saturn, You're Venus and Mars, And I see the whole galaxy in your eyes."

Billy sits back and crosses his arms, his cards clutched tight to his chest as he shakes his head a little at you and your horrible misinterpretation of who is who in this unofficial and heavenly relationship. You can still see him smiling though, knowing he couldn't flip this on you while you were performing.

"And I long to tell you But I think it'll only make you shy. You got the heart of a Leo. But you're sweet like a Pisces, And the only thing I know is I think I might be falling for The boy who swallowed the sun."

He draws a few eyes followed by your own loving gaze, and he shrinks back a little in his seat, lowering his hat just a bit. For reasons obvious to him, he didn't love having eyes on him.

Your smile just grows, assuming you had been right about your assumption mentioned in the song that it would make him shy. To be fair, you are too. As much as you openly cared for one another, you both were yet in the week after your kiss to share a single word and genuine as these. A confession. A real I love you.

"I will keep the tides in tune if you will make the flowers bloom And gravity will do the rest and pull me back to you. Just like Hades and Persephone, The boy who ate the sun and me, You have brought sunshine to the dark side of the moon."

As the bar continued to be mostly entranced by your melodious serenade, you're slightly distracted. You had looked away from Billy for no more than a few seconds to maintain a better stage presence, when you see him stand out of the corner of your eye. Stand, head down and walk between chairs and tables, past the bar, and out the back door, your eyes following the whole way as your smile steadily faded which each step he took away during your love song.

You feel your heart crack in your chest, but the show must go on.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[themoonweaversden]

Messeges that were found so far: SOOS (spoilers)

This is just to collect all the codes that you can type in in thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and their effects only (please click images for better quality)

Masterpost with all messeges / codes

Transcript:

"Sup Dude! Soos here, or as I call myself now "Mr Mystery," but I also call myself Soos too because that's still my name dude! Okay, so first, the GOSS, Tad Strange. Is Totally. Crushing on Woodpecker Guy. I ship it dude. I ship it HARD.

Anyway Mabel wanted me to write about the triangle guy? Dawg, homie is BAD. NEWS. Never trust a bro who can climb inside of your brain. And his book is sus and, to be quite frank, mid. I looked inside and just saw glitches and the words "HE'S UNCORRUPTABLE." What's that supposed to mean? At least holding the book made me look kinda smart, so 1/5 stars I guess.

Anyway Mabel told me to keep it brief, which is no problem for me, I love brievity! I can't get enough of it! Being succinct is like, super easy for me for some reason, I guess it's like a gift? Don't get me started on pithiness, let alone- oh dang I'm like, running out of paper?! LOL! That's what tape is for bro!

SOLVED!

What were we talking about? Oh yeah, my life as chief proprietor/tour guide/scam-magineer (Mr Pine's phrase) of the Mystery Shack! Running this place is an actual dream come true. To stop from pinching myself I asked Old Man McGucket to invent a Pinch-Bot but then it got loose and went on a pinching spree and had to be put down, heh heh. Wild times!

What's the shack like without the Pines? Well, it's got a lot more laser tag. And Questiony is back and MORE QUESTIONABLE THAN EVER! (Turns out all he needed was PANTS!) Every day I get to regale the children with yarns of enchantment and lore, and Melody set up this dope train that goes through the redwoods carrying baby goats. We're doing like... so good. Knock on on wood, but we're always saying "jinx" after talking and like, "anticipating each others emotional needs." Might be some little Sooslets on the way! WINK!

Mr Pines is gonna be away at sea for a while but he promised to not send me any postcards, which meant a lot to me. Dude is a real one! Anyway, I gotta go get some lotion for my cheeks. Abuelita and Melody have been pinching me at the same time a lot and it's starting to become a problem.

Look what I gotta deal with over here! Seesh! Stay cool, and if you're ever in Oregon stop by the Mystery Shack to see the local world record holder for the world's happiest dude. ME! Ha-ha!

-Soos "Mr Mystery" Ramirez

PS: Don't tell Ford that I got pudding on his cursed book!! Unless he likes pussing, then tell him to lick here ⟶

PPS: Did you know that you can turn any spoon into a spork with a few simple adjustments? I'll show you how any time dude!

PPS: If you see Bill, cover your head in tin foil and bring some ninja stars. And a bat, in case he ever accquires human flesh. Or in case you see a PINATA"

[theheightofdishonor]

That page of hinata looking back at a Kageyama that gave him the first toss ever before falling out of fever and exhaustion. Your tags were interesting could u pls break it down?? Is it a full circle of view from the top narrative or Kageyama being the first setter to give him a toss so a silent thank you?

Ngl I write so much about haikyuu and tumblr's search is so bad that I wasn't able to pinpoint the post you're talking about but i'm pretty sure it's about these panel from ch 364 during the kamomedai match. (if it's not, feel free to send another ask and i'll do my best to reply)

In a way it is a full circle moment, both for their partnership but also for Karasuno and where the two of them stand within the team? Hmm, i'l try to explain this.

So the panel on the left is the first time Kageyama's ever set for Hinata, back in ch 4 when they're practicing for the 3 on 3 match. And at the time, Kageyama was refusing to set for Hinata because well, Hinata sucks and Kageyama won't set for people who are unnecessary to win. But they're still together, practicing recieves at like 5:30 in the morning because they don't really have a choice but to work together and then this happens

And Kageyama- who has been frustrated this entire time because no one else around him understand, who struggles with being the only one who is always going for every ball with the same desperate desire- is inexplicably moved by this, by Hinata putting in this much effort and hurting himself for a ball that ultimately doesn't matter much at the end of a long practice when he's getting tossed to by a guy who doesn't even respect him. So finally, after like 3 chapters of refusing to set for Hinata, Kageyama finally does. And it's significant that he's doing it here when when Hinata's exhausted and just completed a decent receive and for once, not actually asking for or expecting a set (it's a bit of a challenge too: i'm finally giving you this but when you're in a terrible condition, do you still want it?; it's a bit of a plea: won't you show me again? that you'll try for volleyball, that you won't give up no matter how tired, no matter how hard?)

Back to the present moment, it's in some ways the same thing but upgraded, a measure of how far they've come that Hinata can make an excellent receive and Kageyama looks at him and says, nope not enough come here now and finish it, won't you? and Hinata does!! Because he will always rise to the occasion, always drag himself back up if it means he can spike and all of these are facts that are firmly entrenched in both of them now

Back then Kageyama could barely dare to hope that someone would ever be able to match him and now he knows Hinata will and look at the way he fucking revels in the knowledge of all that.

But there is something else that's changed too. Namely that it's not just the two of them anymore.

It's not just Hinata now that can rise to Kageyama's expectations, it's all of Karasuno. It would be soo easy for any of them to not jump at the end of the 6th set of the day after back to back matches but they do. All of them jump, all of them are here now, caring just as much about volleyball and putting in just as much effort and the team as a whole is in sync, they're all united in this desire and it's a measure of how far they've all come together too.

And with the look at the end,

I think it's one part that they just completed something really cool and with each other so they're like reveling in the moment together but also one part that Kageyama sees Hinata fall and he realizes what's happening before everyone else does because he already suspected Hinata's sick and because he's got this uncanny knack for reading Hinata.

I think that covered everything about my thoughts on that panel. I hope this was what you were looking for, if it's not , feel free to send another ask clarifying like I said before. Also this ask gave me a much appreciated excuse to reread the Komamedai ask so thanks for that, anon.

[fictionkinfessions]

putting out a canon call is somehow the most annoyingly vulnerable thing i can do, but thats only entirely because i have to confront the fact that, even though bro abused me horribly in essentially every sense of the word and developed such crazy wack fears and disorders in me that carried over into this life, i still sort of miss him? i mean the thought of him alone can send me spiraling like a kid on one of those spiny things on the playground, mouth coated in sticky blue rocket-pop juice, three seconds from flying off it (instead of the handle, but only this once) and bouncing their head off the ground like the fleshiest basketball you’ve ever seen, and when i see or know a bro so much as exists within my proximity it causes irreversible brain and poison damage, but… the dumb thing is, is i know its a condition of being traumatized for the victim to “miss” their abuser, yet despite being fully consciously aware of that i’m still all “man i’m so weird for hate-missing my abusive brother dad and no one understands”. nah, plenty of people understand. you’re just traumatized me-man. which is cool and good and everyone would understand, but i can’t just put “you can interact if you’re bro strider under the condition you know i’ll never talk to you and actually cry silly style about the fact you exist or only talk to you to yell at you and then block you” because that’s both stupid (don’t put your triggers on the internet for everyone to see, kids) and kind of a dick thing for me to do? i also know i don’t actually want to talk to him. it’s just the disorders again. like that one line in sonic fandub. i’m back in the fucking disorder again. it’s such a stupid shit ass situation. that i put myself in for no reason. you’d think in my extended period of existence so graciously delivered to me by whatever cruel gods are out there in the world i’d have worked through this cacophony of a cringe comp my brain is but. well life sucks and fucks. soo la voo or whatever? #relatable (don’t actually tag that, i’m being hip with the kids) 😎 — dave strider (fictive) (#⚙️💡)

[bonesandthebees]

NOT EVEN GIVING MYSELF TIME TO WRITE A N ENDING NOTE TO LAST ASK IM SPEEDRUNNING THIS SHIT IHKGYDD

NOOOOOO THIS HAS ALREADY GONE TO SHIT SO FUCKING QUICK WHATRHFUCK

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THIS IS SO FUCKED THIS SIS FOSFUCKDJDKF

"This has happened before" oh my fucking god CHILLS what the FUCK

A FUCKIGN SYFRINGE??#?_?_!_ THAT ESCALETSD QUICKLY UH BEE WHAT THR RUFKCK???

What the fuck

NOOOO THIS IS SOO THIS SIS SPFCUCKSDUDPAHDODHSKFKDKDLF

NOOOOOO NO FUCKIGN WAYYY NOOOO THIS IS SO MANIPUTLKAITVEEE NOOO CANT U SEEEE NOOOO THIS IS WAY MORE FUCKED UP THAN I COULDVE IMAGINED HOKYFUCJINGHSITHSOSGSKFJSJDF NMOOOO NO WAYSHSKSKFLSLFJDK NOOODHFKDLD

YES TOMMY YWSHSOAHSLSJKD YESSJDJFKFL

What.

The. Fuck.

What.

What.

They can WHAT.

Omg jaw dropped ROCKETDUO?$??$?$?$ HELLOOOO

Oh god this chapter is fucking long I am terrified whaththefuck goes down ohkygoddd aaaaaaa

Pausing for now until I get home so I dont like have to wait an hour right after reading an almost death shfkfkfkfkkdkk

Okay back woot woot :D

Snuggled up in bed with my fairy lights on under two blankets and in my PJs I AM READY!!!!

OH MY FUCKING GOD WAIT.

JUST REALISED

SMOKE.

FIRE.

STATUE.

OH FUCK

NOOOOOO THIS IS SO EVIL OHKYFUCGODJDODJFLGKGLG

NOOOOOOOOOOO

WAIT. I DID NOT READ THAT RIGHT. HOLDUP. I JUST. NO. NO WAY. JACK DID NOT. THERES NO FUCKING WAY. WHATHTHEFUCK. OHMYGOD?

NO

WHAT

NO

OHMYGOD

NY MOUTH IS HUNG OPEN IN SHOCK WHAT

I'm putting onmysuperangstynplaylistforthissholyshit

Oh

My

God

I know he has the syringe but..but. but. But. But. But. But. That is traumatizing that is fucking traumatizing

Bee is this u practicing writing MCD for roses LMFAODJFKGK ohmygodddd I'm ow ow ow ohmyfuckingofdo ohmygod ohmygod the TRAUMA the fucking TRAUMAS the curse??? I mean. He's gonna come back to life but he died holyshit. Is Wilbur eve r gonna not wear a blindfold I'm insane. I'm so insane. I cannot. I don't even know what tod o ohkygod ohkudoboghdnsmfjfdls

This is so fucking cool I'm fucking obsessed

Oh god....

Oh god.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Everything hurts.

Everything hurts.

Ow.

HOW DID IT GET EVEN SADDER??$?$?#?#?$??_?_?_$ TOMMY FUCKING DIED IS THAY NOT ENOUGH OHMYGODDDD

It wasn't your time... That's totally why she didn't show up yes yes [cries]

HOW IS IR GETTING WORSE

JUST LET RHE BOYS REST OHMYGODDDJAKSHDKFKFLGF

WHERES PHIL AND TECHNO KHMYFUCGODDDDD

YESSS FUCK U SCHLATT MOTHERFUCKER!!!!

YESSDJFJGKDKFK I WAS WAITING FOR HIM TO USE HIS EYES AS A WEAPON YESSDDJFKGKD

Ily ranboo

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

That was so intense aaaaaaaaaaa

I don't even have WORDS, I'll probs have words once I read all the other asks but man. Man. I'm in shock. Wow. That was. So intense. Ohhhh my godddd so cool tho so so cool I'm gonna fozpsjdkf explodes beeeeee beeeeeee you're so good at writing holyshitttt this was such a satisfying climax ohmygoddddd aaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I'm not going to get over Tommy waking up and just. Demanding why Kristin wasn't there. That's so. Ow?? Ow..ouch. ouch. Ohmhgodddddskskfkdkskfjfkskf

Beeeeeee beeee I am not okay bee ohmygod diaowjdoxishdkskdjf

At least I can unmute the tags now woOOOO FJFKFLDLFLGLDKFLFLGG EXPLODES IM SO GONNA REREAD RHE SHIT OUTTA THE REVIVAL SCENE OHKYGODDD OUCHH OUCHIE OUCHIE OUCHIE I NEED DADZAAAA

ch 27 time lets go icy

yeah things go to shit really fast lmaoooo

loved finally getting to talk about the pythia curse story I've had that one written up for a while

the syringe is a surprise tool that will help us later :)

that whole convo was soooo manipulative and fucked up but also!! wilbur pushed through!! he held onto himself he's made so much progress!!

smoke :) tommy's lungs :)) jack manifold is there :)))

maybe it's me practicing my MCD writing for rose who knows you'll have to wait and see on that one lmao

tommy died and came back but death wasn't the great thing he'd always been promised it was. it wasn't warm and he wasn't comforted. he was cold and alone and terrified.

AND FUCK SCHLATT

thank you so much icy I'm so happy with how that chapter turned out. it really felt like the perfect climax to everything i'd been building towards the entire fic. so glad you enjoyed <3

[lilac-melody]

Hii again!!

I'm the anon from last night (afternoon?), and thankyouthankyou so much for answering my ask haha. It made me excited when I saw that you needed two times to read it (when I read your answer I also needed some time to reread, I got up and even read while walking, couldn't stay put 😅)

And I wanna say, thank you for sharing them (your fics), and I mean sharing them, not just writing them bc I still think it's wonderful that you enjoy them, but sharing them is a lot other deal where you gotta be at the expense of hateful criticism and such, which I know can be ignored but it's still there, and is scary to open about you, about something that you made and people just being people don't understanding what a big deal is that, bc that way we got to read them and enjoy them and feel in general something whathever that is joy or sadness.

I specially enjoy those

I specially enjoy those fics of yours that are just for the lols haha, I get a good laugh without the urge of finishing a long one, bc once I start reading one I won't stop (except to attend the necesities that haha) though I also like your long ones, like Ikigai haha man that was a ride, I remember being at the edge of my seat just looking for their first signs of falling in love, and being exasperated at Yuujirou but also sad with him running away, I also loved Ken in that fic, even though I think he should have been there more for Aizou, just like in the canon but I understand that it was a lot to take and not anybody can do it, I also liked them being Prince x comoner, haha the change of peace was great bc Yuujirou is usually more prince like with his arrogant cute little attitudes and Aizou being like his loyal lovable idiot haha, right now I don't remember the name of the fic, but there was this one where Yuujirou and Aizou being both princes and Yuujirou is in this arranged marriage and Aizou is devastated about it and then true love (the kiss) saving the day, and the fic where Yuujirou is kidnapped, though I can't talk much about this one bc I don't wanna spoil anyone but the turn at the end was great haha 😆 Aizou is incredible, though poor Hiyori, suffering no matter the universe with those two around, though in a way still getting paid haha.

And there are a lot other great fics I've read, though I must confess I haven't read all of them, I got those ones that I haven't read saved in a big group (in Chorme). And I'm just not deleting them for my life haha, though my Ram is mad at me😅.

And ohhhh your origin story in writing 😍 it's cool, I'm sure I would have just wrote the definitions haha, writing a short story is still being pretty creative, specially when you have to use some words in specific and not something in my opinion anyone can do

I still think you're pretty cool and amazing, (yeah I always read the tags), and it's cool being mean and antisocial (I mean, strangers are usually soo fake friendly, I've got people that are like this that I just have known them like less than two hours and bc I give the vibe that I'm smart?? I dunno 😑 try to take advantage of that, whan I'm usually more lost than them haha, but if I don't return the "gesture" of being friendly I got the "looks" of being strange and I guess antisocial?? I just want to being left alone to read in peace man, but it's imposible so I have just resigned to that destiny), in my book people will always suck, they lie, they brush others off, they seem perfect in a way I don't understand bc they are accepted with their peers even when it seems fake to me, and I will never understand that, and even some of them are infiurating being so much at their element (that element being great at socialicing, where I struggle) but the world is like that and if we (you and me, my dear author LStar-sensei, or femme-malewife-sensei??) ever where to be in the same place I think it would be nice to just being the both of us in our mental space?? (Dunno if this makes sense hhahaha) but being just there is nice (I guess in a way we are right now, interacting like this. Being antisocial and mean is fine, bc if you're being mean to someone, they must've likely did something deserved to be treated mean, no matter if that something is minuscule in theirs or other peoples points of view, only you know how you're feeling and getting others to get it is hard enough to explain, so in a way being respectful is enough for me)

And I wanna say that even though it makes me sad (to the point of crying a little sometimes) when an author delets or abandonds their works for wathever reason they have, I will always respect it. Bc it's something you shared with us, and you have all the right to feel how you feel towards something you wrote and act however you seem the best, and it's also fine to not finish everything you write, I'm not a writer, so is hard for me to get it, but I swear to you it's fine if you ever move on to other things or lost interest or motivation to continue writing soemthing (maybe we will cross paths in another fandom, one never knows) I just hope you continue with joy doing wathever makes you happy (though as a reader it really makes me sad when authors delete their works, and as a reader that has read some beautiful pieces of art unfinished, I still keep rereading them sometimes, even though they are not finished I still get the joy of the journey of the characteres no matter how short or long or even how crack it is haha, bc I remember them, those great stories that help me get through another day, week, month and even though I'm still hopeful I could get the joy of getting even just one chapter someday, I will always respect the author and hope they're doing well with their lives, even if it's short the time that we conected in a great story, I just hope that they're well and yeah I will feel that way towards you one day if it ever happens, bc you're great and don't let anyone let you the oposite, though it's also fine if you just ignore them hihihi )

And yeahhhh, origin stories of you getting into lipxlip and yuumori. 😆 I think I share with you almost how I got into yuumori, bc let's be sincere, it's hard to get that almost instantaneous click with every story one sees, the diference with me is that I got into it again bc you wrote a fic of them 😊 which I must confess haven't read it yet, but I will definetly do it when I have time, I just want to reread some parts of the manga (to get into the mood if you get what I mean haha😅)

And yeahsss, I think you answered everything of that ask of mine and even more, thank you so much!! And sorry if I extended more that neccesary My mind is rambling and doesn't know when to stop (or summarize) sometimes haha

- Saludos 🤗

Ahahahaha thank you! I'm glad you like them! Yeah out of all of my multichaps for lxl, I'd say Ikigai is my fav. Or The BL Experience, which focuses on new jobs for lxl to expand on...and my fic that focuses moreso on the mystery rather than the ship In The Pursuit of Happiness. I had fun with that one too. I'm quite proud of these ones, even if I still cringe @ some of the chapters on all of them lmao.

I hope you're reading my current wip Dream Faded !! I'm really excited for this one and I'm looking forward to being able to update it!

But thank you for your kind words! I'll do my best to be a decent role model 😭

[swaggy-pregnant-elf-man]

I posted 2,985 times in 2022

That's 1,767 more posts than 2021!

23 posts created (1%)

2,962 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@elytrians

@thekidsfromyestergay

@cttrajan1206

@discardedcandywrapper

@greenbeany

I tagged 1,232 of my posts in 2022

#mcr - 290 posts

#ofmd - 79 posts

#art - 65 posts

#toh - 41 posts

#birds - 21 posts

#tiktok - 18 posts

#lol - 15 posts

#lmao - 14 posts

#fuck capitalism - 14 posts

#prev tags - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 74 characters

#🦀🦀🦀😁🦀😁😁😁😁😁😁🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀😁😁🦀🦀😩🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

HELP ITS ME SUMI

The londoner in ur birmie squad sjdhhdf

i am so sorry bro i dont think i am who u think i am 😭😭

8 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

#4

aras have you seen the Joan of Arc outfit yet

I HAVE NOW KSKDKLEODJ DKDOEOL I AM GOING RVEN MORE INSANE GOING TO WATCH THE STREAM NOW

10 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

#3

3000 posts!

ashamed 😔

16 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

#2

clownwife

19 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I love the energy and all and I don’t want to offend but as a Muslim girl i can tell you that it is literally haram to identify as anything other than your god given gender. Like I’m not trying to be rude and I’m glad that there a respectful supportive people out there but if you’re looking at the Quran and other islamic book you’ll find stories about how its considered haram. Accepting the islam religion means accepting everything and dedicating yourself to it you can’t just pick and choose.

omg my first anon hate hahaha

i know im not obligated to answer hate but im going to anyway bcuz of i have things to say (sparkle emoji) (im on pc and dont have the energy to find an emoji keyboard)

okay first of all nowhere did i say that I identify as Muslim. i get that it was ambiguous tho so its cool. to clarify,, I am personally not Muslim but I kind of have to act like one so I don't get kicked to the streets or some shit lol and maybe I'm a bit of a coward idkkk but anyways

I would be interested to know what other Islamic books ur talking about btw, but I'm pretty sure the quran doesn't mention being trans anywhere at all. in fact I'm pretty certain, I've read it multiple times with translation and commentary interpretations and anyway being trans wasn't really a 'known' thing back then? bcuz obviously patriarchy and gender roles n segregation blah blah was wayyyy more yk. shit I forgot the word. uhhh yk like prevalent?? ofc the quran does mention a shitton about gender roles,, so yk men r the breadwinners, women raise the kids and keep house and be good wives etc. and also remember the big important fact:: GENDER AND SEX R DIFFERENT THINGS!!! meaning technically u cant be 'born' a gender (omfg my keyboard hates me imagine a question mark here) ur born with certain genitals and society assigns u a gender based on that . sounds a bit fucked when u put it like that actually but anyway back when the quran was being revealed this wasn't a known thing cuz yk they didn't have studies on this stuff,, and yea ur probably gonna say 'but the quran came from allah and he knows everything' well the fact of the matter is he either forgot or smth idk I don't speak for God but trans people definitely exist that's a fact we know so yeah. oh I should come back to my point which was, even with the quran saying those things about what ur supposed to do based on whats in ur pants which is crazy outdated anyway it doesn't take gender ≠ sex into consideration either soo ye that's the most it could've said about being trans and that not very valid anymore rip and that's not even mentioning non-binary people

and anyway Islam is literally all about acceptance and respect and everything so idk it would probably be better if u didn't go around telling ppl they're 'literally haram' for being trans or gay or any typa queer bcuz its literally not our choice (insert question marks) believe me I would fucking love to be comfortable in my 'female' body but I cant no matter how much I try to force myself so I'm sorry dude. no one would choose to be stuck in a situation like this. personally, I believe Islam needs a super massive reformation. well not Islam exactly, but a lot of things said in the quran r outdated wildly now, while a lot of it will also always be relevant, eg. everyone being equal and yk give to the poor etc. i have absolutely nothing against Muslims (I have it against my family for being so forceful about religion - different thing) yall r super cool and ik being a Muslim girl isn't easy believe me, but genuinely seeing Muslim people around and yk, just existing in wider society outside of Islamic spaces makes me feel so proud of where I came from even if its not been the best experience. have u seen the show We are Lady Parts (question mark) its about an all female Muslim punk band and there's only six episodes I literally watched it all today but the message of it is what I'm trying to get to you. u don't have to be the perfect pious wife to be considered a 'good Muslim',, there are so many ways u can show faith. you don't have to be a big strong man who can handle all pain with ease while single-handedly providing for a family either.

anyways peace out that sure was a journey lol and I definitely have forgot some of the things I wanted to say but yea that's all don't forget to like and subscribe &lt;3

(colours r to make it easier to read for people with shorter attention spans,, they don't have any other significance)

36 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[chryzure-archive]

HI MEM!! here’s a pass to go on a book rant (because i love when you’re a hater hehe… esp if we’re hating together >:)) AND AS FOR TRYSI ASKS… gimme some songs for them pre-breakup and post-breakup 😳😳 i expect ANGST!!

THANK YOU FOR THE RANT PASS, WE ALL KNOW WHAT I’M GOING TO RANT ABOUT THIS TIME… I’M SORRY, I HAVE OTHER BOOKS I COULD RANT ABOUT, BUT LET’S TALK ABOUT THE DISGRACE OF A SPIN-OFF SERIES THAT DID MY PRETTYBOY SOO DIRTY

re: evangeline being a shitty character. hoh boy. yikes. like, she was pumped straight out of “generic ya protagonist” factory with all the default settings and stephanie went “yes, this is good character building”. …. i’d be more interested in a shallow character. i said it in my previous tags, but there could at least be a somewhat interesting dynamic there. maybe it would be hilarious to stick jacks with a character boring as bricks!!!! ((this is why simeon and jacks make a very funny friendship dynamic)). maybe it would be cool to explore a character that’s shallow developing depth??? maybe we could have a character with, like, a legit backstory? but a) evangeline’s boring, and b) she’s just a poorly-written reader-insert, since stephanie wanted to appease the fangirls in love with this bitchy fate. sorry, but jacks wants a bitch <3 he needs a spitfire girl to keep him in his place <333 evangeline needs to go to her pre-calc class, she’s failing rn.

((related: still thinking of that one post i saw where somebody was like “stop saying evangeline is stupid and make bad decisions! she’s just feminine! say you hate women next time!” …… so naturally feminine women make bad decisions??? they’re stupid?????? is that what you’re saying??? also, like??? the original protagonists were highly feminine characters??? i’m so confused with how femininity MUST mean trad-wife, LIKE WHAT??? ? anyway, evangeline is a bad character, but not bc she’s feminine. it’s because she’s poorly written.)

OH YEAH, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU A) ADMIT TO NOT KNOWING HOW YOU WANT TO END THE SERIES, AND B) ADMIT THAT YOU PLOTTED THE SECOND NOVEL FROM JACKS’S POV AND DECIDED TO LEAVE EVANGELINE WAITING AROUND FOR HIM TO COME BACK WITH PLOT-RELAVENT DETAILS???shitty, boring writing, couldn’t figure out what to do, so we leave the protagonist in her perfect little cage because she’s a boring doll for jacks to toss around when he’s around. no, sorry—because even if evangeline were a doll, she would be a more interesting character. i mean it.

((side note: you can have a traditionally feminine character with pink hair actually do shit btw…. like luna rune is right there, getting shit done, and then she’s happy to settle down with simeon and have three kids. like, it makes sense for her character arc to be badass and travel through time, and then end up with a happy life at the end of it all…… it’s possible to write something where that’s fulfilling. god, it’s like stephanie wrote a random character and decided to slap jacks’s name on him so he could be attractive as a “villain”. he’s a sopping wet cat with the remains of his failed schemes scattered around him. ALSO, HE’S NOT MUSCULAR, HE CAN’T FIGHT, THERE’S NO WAY HE CAN SHOOT A FUCKING BOW AND ARROW.))

i’m DONE.

———

anyway.. trysi pre-breakup:

every little thing she does is magic by the police ((…PEAK HIGH SCHOOL TRYSI, I CRY))

only the good die young by billy joel ((i like thinking of chrysi pulling tris from his shell to this song… tris’s mom does NOT like chrysi, because chrysi gets him in a lot of trouble, so that’s what this song makes me think of :)) that said, tris’s dad LOVES chrysi for that exact reason LMAO))

kiss me you animal by burn the ballroom ((he sings this and then goes on a date with chrysi and is like “;;;;;;;;;;; hi…… can we… what if we… uhhh kiss?” “……..you remember those cleaning closets. why are you acting like this?” UMM…))

trysi post-breakup:

superstar by carpenters ….. IT’S FINE, THIS SONG DOESN’T KILL ME EVERY TIME.

always something there to remind me by naked eyes ((lyrically… it’s a bit upbeat for their breakup, but the lyrics are soooo tris going around and being reminded of their relationship. he loved her so much…))

more than a feeling by boston (again, lyrically, it fits?? but it’s a bit more upbeat than i think tris would listen to. THAT SAID, I LOVE THIS SONG TOO MUCH. YOU’RE STUCK WITH IT.)

i hope ur doing well (feat. colliding with mars) by savage ga$p, colliding with mars ((juno and i love to say that tris would make songs abt chrysi like this allll the time if his bandmates didn’t stop him. it’s so whiny <33 i think it’s hilarious))

i wanna know by tea ((OKAY, LIKE, I’M ACTUALLY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS ONE. I LOVE THE LYRICS AND THE VIBE. IT’S TRIS AND CHRYSI ABOUT EACH OTHER))

the killing kind by marianas trench ((particularly the way it sounds, but lyrics fit somewhat??? i loooove this song though hehe))

unrelated songs that make me think of tris:

night life by hello atlantic ((tris accidentally turned into a murderous vampire on one of his concert nights??? oh???? and chrysi now has to help him??? what a shame!))

sad (clap your hands) by young rising sons ((he’s my pathetic little babygirl, you must understand…))

coward by those who dream ((PEAK TRIS SONG, HE’S GOT SOOOO MUCH UNRESOLVED ANXIETY. DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT))

rot by dbmk ((idk, it makes me think of him… the idea that he’s rotten to the core appeals to me, like—i think he views himself that way!!! esp when he can’t control his magic and he hurts ppl because he gets easily distressed—but also, that he wants so much more, and it makes him feel like he’s rotten??? AAUGH.))

dream on by aerosmith ((mostly, i think he’d like this song in general. and he’d sound soooo pretty while singing it <33))

[mayday-jd]

yeah I mentioned a second wave soo..

"Simon, what would I do without you?"

"Oh, you'd be just fine, I promise. Better than fine. You're so great, Marceline. Someone else would definitely find you and take care of you. Maybe even someone rich. Yeah, you'd be living in a castle with food and medicine and– and trained squirrels to tend to your every need."

so yeah that happened sadly there are no squirrels

let's ignore the fact that this episode came out like two weeks ago AND WOO LET'S TALK ABOUT THE STAR

I actually really like this episode it's like my fav along with the winter king one so yeah I'm gonna talk about it it's getting the same treatment

as a whole I really liked how the episode was directed?? executed?? idk what word I'm looking for exactly but I could rewatch it a thousand times and still adore it in its entirety the a-plot and the b-plot are fucking awesome it's a marceline/marshall lee episode dude like c'mon (kind of a gumlee/bubbline episode too)

anyways to really get into it it's basically a vampireworld with toxic yuri bubbline

also shame on the ppl who clowned bonnie's design I love it she rocks and marceline is a star ofc I adore her

bonnie sees cake killing vamps like the absolute badass that she is and decides to recruit her so ofc fionna and simon tag along

cake is literally fantastic in this episode I mean I've come to like her genuinely she's hilarious but she kicks ass, she's got her powers in check and everything man and while cake is thriving fionna's morale is pretty low like damn

girl just discovered murder and isn't quite too happy about slaughtering innocent ppl because a hot ice wizard convinced her it was the right thing to do

the whole episode she's worried, scared and generally not as excited as before to go on another adventure because she now realizes that this isn't some rpg this is real and her actions do have consequences on the ppl she meets, the worlds she travels to

like look at my girl she's not having a good time this is terrifying to her (tbf she sees martin get his life sucked out of him soo)

speaking of martin ik he's like an awful dad in the og series but he's pretty nice in this episode I was kind of upset when he died like aww not the nice cool guy :(

but womp womp what can you do about it

[merrrrrrrrry]

hiiii 🫶🏻

that sounds like so much fun!! it’s so cool that you get to do that for your internship and that you enjoy it so much!!

so i was studying accounting but to start i was doing like a bunch of business classes and the law class i took was super introductory and focused primarily on contract law (i think) and so that’s how i was able to take it even though i wasn’t studying law!! i still don’t understand why my professor wanted us to go to a hearing as part of our final but it was interesting regardless 🤷🏼‍♀️

as for the tumblr edits i looked through your tag and i think they’re really nice!!! that sounds super frustrating honestly. it’s horrible to be so enthusiastic about something and have the people essentially running it not put in the effort to keep it enjoyable for everyone 😔

oooh i’ve never heard of that before, what is tiffin? it’s nice that you got to enjoy lunch with a group of good people!! and i love that for you!!! a good sandwich is always a bright spot in any day 🥹

it sucks you’re having trouble with the book and completing the review, but i’m sure you’re doing a good job regardless!!! hopefully it’ll all get easier along the way as you become more familiar with your area of study 🫶🏻 you were able to get into your program without any preparation so you must be considerably more prepared and capable than you feel right now 💗

okay some things about me..genuinely would spend every waking minute doing crafts if i could. like i don’t even care what i’m doing i just like creating things 🥺 my favorite drink is genuinely so boring i just really like water dhshshs like 9 times out of 10 if given the choice of drinks im gonna pick water! as for music i try to listen to a lot of different genres but i generally stick to pop (mostly bc 1d and the boys are pop-y) and then whatever like 4/5 songs im obsessed with!

good luck on your assignment, im sending you all the spare energy i have 💗💗

-✨holiday pal✨

(i hope this sends okay because i wrote it out in my notes app and copy pasted it bc it was getting incredibly long djshshs)

Hellloooo 💕💕

I'm so so so so so so sorry for the late reply

I do the same thing of writing in notes and copying here sometimes 🤣🙈

That's really cool. Contract law will be introduced as a subject to us this coming semester. I could talk to you about it!

Yeah, just today the posts I made which they approved was supposed to be posted and a few hours before posting time, one of the seniors suddenly had a problem with it and I had to do one of the things all over

Tiffin! Omg I keep forgetting it's such an Indian thing. So this is the Wikipedia definition - Tiffin is an Indian English word for a type of meal. It refers to a light breakfast or a light tea-time meal at about 3 p.m., consisting of typical tea-time foods. In certain parts of India, it can also refer to the midday luncheon or, in some regions of the Indian subcontinent, a between-meal snack.

For me midday luncheon is the best word for it. You'd eat breakfast at home, then have tiffin during break time at school and come back home and have lunch. But right now I'm working the whole day, so i take my lunch with me to court in a tiffin box(mine is just like an off-brand Tupperware kinda thing) and that's my tiffin.

I had Poha today in the morning and chicken curry and pulao for lunch. Sunday special!! What about you?

Thank you so much for that. I pray you're right and i finish my work on time. "Tumhare mooh mein ghee shakkar". It literally means may your mouth be full of ghee and sugar but actually it means what you said was very sweet and may what you said come true.

Water is my favourite drink!!! Oh god, I love water. And I love analysing how different the tastes of water in different places are, not out loud, just to myself.

I admire people who do arts and crafts soo so much. What kind of crafts do you do? The max that I can do is cross stitching.

Have a beautiful day 💕💕💕

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

[clever-feathers-clan]

Why would you leave these in the tags, OMG!!

#honestly #it should be

#i personally am uncomfortable if these

pronouns are used on me

#but its fine if other people use them bc my discomfort is not theirs and other ppl can do

whatever they want

#you shouldnt be uncomfortable FOR someone based on your own comforts

#its the same with any pronouns really #same as how some nonbinary people are 100% fine and cool with she/her pronouns and others arent

#the only difference with it/its pronouns are people are putting their personal discomfort onto others

#so. im nonbinary and I personally feel uncomfortable being referred to as it/its #I already struggle with depersonalization and the it/its doesnt help with that

#BUT #Im also not comfy with she/her #i hate it in fact

#does that mean i refuse to use she/her for people who do want to use those pronouns

because im uncomfy when theyre used on me??

#fuck no

#i use she/her for people that want to use she/ her and it/its for people that want to use it/its just the same. litterally no difference.

#seriously #would you say

#'but using she/her feels like im feminizing them... Ill do it cause she asked but i feel soo bad'

#no matter who your talking about it just sounds stupid

This.. really changed my perspective on how we+ approach these pronouns and pronouns others have in general, thank you!

-Naraiden of CFC

I dunno why “using it/its pronouns for people makes me uncomfortable but ill do it anyways to respect their identity^^” is such a common take in lgbt spheres like….? Ok. You didnt have to just say that though. I dont need to know that.

[s1st3r]

Soo... how would the Bad Batch react to a S/O that has a very snarky/dry sense of humor? Just always cracking jokes and finding humor in everything? (Love ur content btw <3)

Thank you for your request!!! And THANK YOU IM GLAD U LIKEY!!!!

Ok I have seen this but knew it would take me hours to write so I was waiting for the write moment! (get it? write = right? teehee) talk about a terribly dry sense of humour my goodness.

How Would The Bad Batch React to a Snarky/Witty/Dry Sense of Humour Significant Other (s/o)

Factz: Not even kidding, I feel like the boys would kill for a hella sassy partner in crime.

Hunter

Oh my gosh they are literally best friends!!! They speak in a very similar style to each other.

Hunter expects a little bit of snark from Cross, sarcasm from Echo, and quips from Tech, but when his s/o just dishes his dry humour right back at him the first time they meet, he's like "Why was that so... hot???"

So from then on, most of the dialogue exchanged between the two of them are like super sassy comments and witty replies, until it unintentionally gradually morphs into really heavy flirting. They get so into teasing each other, the whole batch can feel the tension in the air.

Of course both are oblivious of this for the longest time.

But when eventually they do figure it out and get together, the whole batch sigh in relief thinking "finally this intense pining is over"... But it actually just gets worse?

So now during missions, the two of you verbally dance around each other like you're in some comeback war.

In the middle of a serious mission:

Hunter: "I need you here now!"

S/O: "wow wow Hunter. babe. cool your jets. i know we haven't really done it in a while but we're in the middle of a mission and-"

Hunter: "As much as I love how you think mesh'la, I think you're misreading the situation."

His s/o also keeps ruining his *tough guy* persona. During briefs, his s/o keeps making him crack his skillfully honed poker face.

The teasing through dry humour is just a really fun and goofy way to connect to each other and is their common ground of affection.

Tech

We all know Tech is a witty boi, and man do we love him for it!

Tech finds his s/o's attitude quite entertaining.

He does like it when they use their snarkiness to defend him from people that give him a hard time, but he like his s/o's humour best when it's just the two of them having fun.

I feel like Tech would find it 10x funnier if his s/o was also really smart and able to understand his technical language, because they just pass these really witty/funny quips back and forth to each other that are actually hilarious but no one understands. It's like their own hidden language.

Now we've seen Tech smile and m a y b e chuckle a little before?? But so far, we've yet to see Tech actually laugh and I headcanon that Tech snorts when he laughs. (Has anybody seen the live action TMNT?? Kinda like how Donnie laughs in those). So ohmiGOSH it's so WhOlEsOmE when his s/o makes Tech laugh!! He's so CUTE!

The rest of the batch will be out getting supplies while Echo works of the exterior hull of the ship and Tech and his s/o fix up the systems inside.

Tech laying under a panel: "Hm, this wire seems to be adhered to a far less efficient arrangement." Tech's s/o wordlessly shuffles over from their panel to analyse the problem. Their shoulders touch as they lie side by side.

S/o: "Mm, I think you're right, but see here? It looks like it's been manually transfigured. Probably by Echo in one of our many quick fixes. It looks like he's done it so he can easily access and program the flight module."

Tech: "I'm going to rewire it to-"

S/o: "To that one right?" His s/o says, suppressing a smile as they point to clearly the wrong wiring. Tech's eyes narrow and his brow furrows.

Tech: "Of course not! That would compromise the-" He catches a glimpse of his s/o's cheeky grin, "oh you're joking." His s/o bursts out laughing and he can't help the smile that stretches over his face as he shakes his head.

By the end of the repairs, the batch come back to find you both practically rolling on the ground in snorting fits of laughter.

Their humour paired with their competence makes them super attractive to him.

Wrecker

Wrecker finds his s/o's dry humour the funniest thing in the galaxy. He is one of those blessings that will always laugh at your jokes.

Which is a relief cuz I have dry humour and almost no one ever laughs at my jokes rip.

I mean, you guys saw how he reacted in ep 1 when Omega DeStRoYeD those regs in the mess hall. He was so proud and supportive of her.

So yeah he's pretty much his s/o's hype man.

He loves that his s/o's humour means that they quite enjoy playful competition and games. So they're always playing random games together, even going so far as to arm wrestle (S/o: "But we both already know who's going to win... Me. Obviously.")

And sometimes he will let his s/o win, just because he thinks it's so cute when they start flexing their arms and boasting about how strong and amazing they are.

He knows they're joking. He knows they know he let them win. But even though they've never really beaten him, he still thinks they're strong and amazing.

There is always friendly banter between the two but what Wrecker loves the most is how easy his s/o makes things for him.

He's not a natural at romance, and often finds himself making mistakes or he might do something a little awkwardly. But instead of being mad, disappointed, or judgmental, his s/o just smiles or laughs it off and walks him through things.

He feels like he can always be himself around his s/o.

Crosshair

Again, it's canon and fanon that Cross is a bit of a grumpy pants so he obviously finds his s/o's wit irritating at first. Which his s/o finds annoying, so his s/o just does it more just to get under his skin.

Totally enemies to lovers trope. I see it no other way. FiGhT me.

His s/o would make jokes all the time but I see that one day, his s/o makes a dry joke and he gives them crap for it, and they've just had enough and so they absolutely *slam* him with snark, sass, and wit that cannot be rivalled by Crosshair himself. They get right up into his face; tension as thick as s o u p.

And then he just grabs their face and makes out with them.

His s/o's like "ok" and totally rolls with it.

The Bad Batch wonder why they don't fight as much anymore (not that they're complaining).

Now they both use their sass to bully the regs.

They kinda become this unbeatable pair of unrivalled attitude. Unlike Hunter and his s/o who use it to tease each other, while Cross and his s/o do that a little too, they mostly direct their humour and sarcasm outward. Cross's s/o is a little more good natured than him though and will pull him in when he goes a bit too far.

He generally finds his s/o's humour quite funny now (though he'll never admit it), and the fact that he smiles a little more doesn't go unnoticed by his brothers.

Echo

Ok while Hunter is master of the dry humour, Echo is KING of sarcasm.

Having said that, I feel like Echo would actually far more appreciate light humour over sass/snark/wit/etc.

I think after being through the crap he's been through, echo baby just needs a light hearted, positive beam of sunshine in his life and his s/o is it.

He loves that his s/o always has a way of making others laugh and smile, even on really hard missions and in rough times.

I think his s/o having a lighter humour also makes him feel safer. Like there's no chance of miscommunication whereby this s/o accidently hits a sensitive topic. His s/o sticks to surface level humour which makes it easy to digest.

They are also absolutely fantastic at telling funny stories which is a real treat when his s/o will retell stories about some of the missions the Bad Batch has done and they just execute the story perfectly.

Echo is in love with his s/o's laugh and thinks it's so cute when they giggle at their own jokes.

He'll never say it, but his s/o's humour sometimes reminds Echo of Fives and Cutup, which is a bit bittersweet for him.

They say that "a joyful heart is good medicine" and for Echo that couldn't be more true. His s/o's joyful heart and nature revive and heal him. He is so much happier because of them and will tell them so in between little kisses as his s/o giggles playfully at his gentle yet eager ministrations.

~ Sister

Tag list: @damerondala @imalovernotahater

@kaorikoizumi @xlittlemissydjx @in-the-crosshairs @dionysuskid21

@littlemisscare-all

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[queenvhagar]

Beyond this being properly tagged as anti Team Black and yet you still deciding to come have a chat for whatever reason instead of making your own post:

1. Dragons are cool and Targaryens can ride them due to ancient blood magic, so that makes them the ultimate, peak form of humanity. Cool so everyone else is automatically inherently worse than them... okay 😂 Just saying idolizing a racial group as superior to others is usually not a good look but you do you.

2. Rhaenyra used Criston for sex because Daemon left her that night. I just kinda personally have an issue with the fact that she was the one who gave him his job and then she decided to use him for sex, and given that she's his superior, he couldn't really say no, despite trying to, but I guess you can feel differently.

3. Rhaenyra literally had the choice to marry any man in the realm and she fumbled her chances by going to a brothel with Daemon. Her father and her agreed to the Laenor match to fix the problem and she likely also agreed because she knew she'd just be with whoever she could find otherwise if she wanted. Mostly I see her marrying Laenor as a result of her own actions. Literally nobody in this world was given as much choice in the matter as her... She had a chance and missed it.

4. What's worse... I die and my husband's brother's kid I never met claims my dragon on the night of my funeral... or I die and my husband fucks the woman we already talked about was his "first choice" over me on the night of my funeral? There's a clear answer here, in my opinion. I know which one would personally hurt more.

5. Lucerys unfortunately does not have Laenor's blood as he's not his actual son so his claim is illegitimate (that's just how basic feudalism works). Baela and Rhaena could have had a claim to Driftmark themselves through their mother being the eldest Velaryon child. But no, unfortunately someone marrying into a family doesn't make them heir to that family's throne (that would be like, for example, say Robert Baratheon had married Lyanna Stark and then tried to claim Winterfell under her claim). In the event a woman inherits the throne, the male would be consort. Pretty sure males marrying into the family can't claim inheritance on their wives' behalf.

6. Vaemond basically spoke the truth of the situation and objected to his family's throne being stolen, so instead of having him face the King's Justice for speaking "treason" Princess Rhaenyra (not queen yet) can just decide to have him killed and his body desecrated... I mean I guess that is kinda Westerosi brutality but like it doesn't make it right or just that she did that.

7. Greens are Targaryens just as much as Blacks are so why would they not claim dragons that their family members have? The whole point of the show is it's the Targaryen family civil war. Both sides are Targaryen.

8. Y'all really gonna try to say the Greens aren't doing their duty to the realm when they've been running the kingdom for years for a sick Viserys while the Blacks are off on Dragonstone doing fuck all and letting the Greens run day to day ruling... then Team Black is soo shocked that the Greens have influence and eventually take King's Landing for themselves. As to why they crowned Aegon... unfortunately Rhaenyra's brothers were always in danger by nature of how male primogeniture and succession work in the world of ASOIAF. Because she had an atypical claim to the throne, if anyone anywhere disliked her rule they could rally behind alternative claimants to the throne in rebellion against her. To avoid this and secure their power someone in Team Black would have to kill or exile Alicent's sons and their children fo eliminate their claims. It's an unfortunate but true fact with multiple real life and ASOIAF examples. Even if Rhaenyra wouldn't want to, Daemon would have no issue with doing it for her.

9. Fire and Blood the book has multiple sources of knowledge on the characters and events. Basically there are some maesters and witnesses but also this raunchy court jester named Mushroom that loves to exaggerate and add sexual elements to things where they probably didn't happen. For example, Mushroom says Daemon taught Rhaenyra how to pleasure him with her mouth and then asked Mushroom to join in! Another time, according to Mushroom, Rhaenyra sold Alicent and Helaena to a brothel where she let people pay to do whatever they wanted to them and he was there to see it! Doubtless there is little believability about his accounts of the history. Yet Mushroom's story about Aegon hanging with young children in a fighting pit... THAT'S the story the writers decide is the one that's real of all of Mushroom's stories. Okay...

Other things such as the Dyanna subplot are entirely show inventions to try to make Aegon look worse (probably to make Rhaenyra look better in comparison). Not saying Aegon is perfect as a character or human being, but he's likely to listen to the long-established small council that includes people who've been ruling and managing the kingdoms for years. No matter how bad the show tries to paint it, Aegon is not the new Joffrey. He's not a sadist or a monster, but they're trying real hard to make people think otherwise for some reason.

10. I would like to apologize on behalf of the show. With some really weak writing moments that fans are uncritically drinking up, the show really has tried to paint this as a black and white issue where Team Black is good and Team Green is bad. I really would recommend checking out the original Fire and Blood because really truly this is a gray story with some really rich sociopolitical themes. If I enjoy the gray nature of the story, why do I identify as Team Green, you may ask? Personally, I'm Team Green in reaction to the amount of uncritical Team Black stans out there who haven't really given anything about this world or story an ounce of complex thought and love to come onto other people's posts and advertise it. But also it helps that the Team Green characters have personalities :)

Thank you for your time, and I really empower you to make your own post on your own blog. I hope that when you properly tag your own post nobody decides to disregard the tags and engage with your post anyway. That would be so annoying! And kind of sad for whoever decided they needed to start an argument on someone else's post for no reason.

Daemon taught Rhaenyra that they're dragons who take what they want, who they want, when they want and that they're justified because they're better than everyone else because of their heritage. Then we see Rhaenyra embody this ideal: taking sex from a reluctant Criston to satisfy her needs and then tossing him aside, coming up with the "dine as we please" proposal that resulted in obvious bastards, sleeping with Daemon the same night as his wife's funeral, using her illegitimate children to unlawfully take Driftmark from the Velaryons, in the books feeding Vaemond to her dragon because he questioned her. Targaryen superiority is imbedded into Team Black's MO and for the most part the show and general audience uncritically lap it up. But are we really supposed to root for and justify the idea that a group of people is superior because of their racial makeup, and therefore the pursuit of their goals and desires is justified above all else, even if others are hurt in the process? Even if they have to use fear and violence to maintain their power over others?