#i upload them here and pray that they load

[monarchisms]

【🐓🦷】

[funkycrabturtle]

masterpost?!!

i wanna raise a praying mantis one day so I can get rid of all the flies in my house my old acc with all my old drawings on there: @funkycrabturtle1034 not able to log back into it and use it anymore due to my school blocking access :(

helloooooo.. anyone can tell i'm not human but secretly a horrific monster with cat ears, an unhinged jaw and loaded with 200,000 knife-sharp teeth (from specific calculations) ART REQUESTS ARE OPEN! PLEASE DO NOT SEND IN TOO MANY.. ⇠ 12/11/24 below me is my irl persona btw, feel free to ask me anything (especially about experiences with stuff, also I'm aroace 0_0) and check out my strawpage and twitter (brand new social) too!!

my main oc's reference is below me!! if you don't even know who Mintee, then good for you cus you're about to find out anyway!! check it out below! here's a link for Mintee's outfit encyclopedia if you'd like to make fanart and an extra reference for more details and lore.. (creds to @cozmic-wyatt for the first reference below!! btw the band on her leg translates to 'agent' in Japanese)

read all you want, there are probably a thousand other eyes seeing this as well..

i'm still in school, so yeah I may not upload as often but more is posted during the holidays

send me tons of asks!! i don't get a lot in my inbox, but I'm always there to answer them since I'm often online lol

and most importantly, you may make fanart of me, Mintee or my other ocs!! it always makes my day a whole lot better and makes me smile

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[dontcare77ghj]

Stop

Tony x reader x Steve x Natasha

Notes; The reader has powers akin to Psylocke from X-Men. Also, I would have uploaded sooner, but it was my birthday yesterday, and I forgot. Sorry.

"I'm gonna miss the beard." You said, watching Steve as he shaved off the beard he had grown.

"Tony never liked it," Steve commented. "He said it was too scratchy." 

"Like he can talk." Natasha snorted, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. "We're going to find him, Steve." She promised the blonde.

"And what if he was dusted?" Steve asked, turning to you. "What then?"

"We bring him back," Natasha said. "He can't get away from us that easy." She joked, causing Steve to laugh weakly.

"Y/N, you're awful quiet," Steve noted as he and Natasha looked at you. 

"He needs to come home." You said, looking up.

"We know. Carol's looking for him now. If he's out there, we'll find him." Natasha assured you.

"No, he needs to come back to us." You said, placing a hand on your stomach. 

"Y/N?" Steve asked, taking a step forward.

"We're pregnant." You announced, flashing a watery smile at both your partners. "I felt really sick after the battle and had FRIDAY scan me. We're five weeks pregnant."

"This is amazing, Y/N!" Natasha cheered, turning you in her arms to kiss you deeply. "We're going to be parents!"

"This is such fantastic news," Steve said, pulling both you and Natasha into his arms. "Our family is growing." He smiled, putting his hand on your stomach.

"That's why Tony has to come home. So he can be here. I don't want to just tell this baby about Tony. I want them to have all their parents raise them."

"We'll get him back," Steve promised you. "Whatever it takes."

Before any of you could say another word, there was a loud humming sound that shook the walls of the building.

"FRIDAY, what was that?" Natasha demanded.

"It appears Carol Danvers has returned. She is carrying a large spacecraft with her."

"Tony." The three of you said before rushing outside. 

Bruce, Rhodey, and Pepper quickly joined the three of you, and soon the six of you were all gathered on the front lawn, watching as Carol flew down.

You'd never believed in God before, but at this moment, you found yourself praying Tony was on that ship and alive.

As the ship was placed on the ground, the door opened. A raccoon walked out, followed by a blue woman and then,

"Tony!" You shouted, rushing forward with Natasha and Steve on your heels.

Tony looked half dead. He was incredibly pale and thin. His form was shaking as you pulled him into your arms.

"You're alive. You're here." You whispered, clinging onto his shirt tightly. When Tony didn't respond, you took a step back and allowed Natasha and Steve to embrace him.

"I lost the kid." Tony gasped after Steve pulled away.

"Tony, we all lost," Steve told him with a grimace. 

"You need to get looked over," Natasha demanded, putting one of Tony's arms around her shoulders. 

"No, we need to talk about him," Tony said, panting by the end of his short sentence.

"You need to go to the infirmary." You said, narrowing your eyes at the man. "You're about to collapse."

As Steve wrapped his thick arm around Tony's midsection, Tony seemingly lost his fight and slumped in their hold. 

After having rested for a while, Tony explained what had happened on Titan to you all. When Nebula announced that she may know where Thanos could be, everyone prepared to leave.

Everyone except you.

You had volunteered, been forced to stay behind by Natasha and Steve, to stay with Tony.

"Tony, you need to stay in bed." You sighed, gently pushing on his shoulders. 

"I can't stand this. Who invented bedrest? I just want to talk to them." Tony grumbled, leaning back against his pillows.

"Yeah, I don't think you can talk to him. He died in 1914." You informed him. 

"Absolutely ridiculous," Tony said under his breath. 

You were about to reply to him when a sudden bout of nausea overwhelmed you. You rushed over to the trashcan by the door and lost this morning's breakfast.

"Y/N?" 

"I'm fine. Just give me a second." You said before throwing up again. "Ugh, that's gross." You complained once you were done.

"What the hell was that? Are you okay? Are you sick? Is it the flu?" Tony asked in rapid-fire succession. 

"I'm fine, hon." You cut him off. "I'm gonna put this in the hall. This is disgusting." You said before moving the can into the hallway.

"Are you gonna tell me what that was?" Tony asked as you moved back to his bedside.

"I was going to wait until Natasha and Steve got back, but now's going to have to do." You sighed, taking his hand. "I'm pregnant, Tony."

Tony went quiet. He didn't say anything as he stared at you.

"Tony?"

"We're going to need to start planning for a nursery. I'll get FRIDAY to call a designer and have them send over some color swatches. Do you know if it's a girl or a boy? How far along are you?" Tony asked as he grabbed his tablet from the side table. "FRIDAY, can you download baby books for first-time parents? Do you think there are youtube videos we could watch?"

"Tony, I'm barely following a thing you're saying." You informed the man. "Wait, so you're not mad?"

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Tony titled his head. "We've been talking about this for how long? Have you told Tasha and Steve?"

"I told them just before you got back." You nodded.

"We're going to have a family." Tony smiled largely. "Oh God, we're going to have a family."

"So, Thanos is dead." 

"Yes."

"And the stones are destroyed." 

"Yes."

That had been playing on a loop in your head since everyone had returned.

Thor had left that night. 

Carol had returned to space.

Rhodey had been called back to work.

Rocket, Nebula, and Bruce were sticking around the compound. Bruce would be staying permanently to help the rest of the world, but Nebula and Rocket were only staying temporarily. Once they had reloaded their ship, they would be gone too.

And the four of you, the four of you were leaving now.

"We got so lucky here, Steve," Tony said, putting his arm around Natasha's shoulders and putting the other around your waist. "We all lived. We made it out alive, and now we have a chance. We have a kid on the way, Steve."

"I know that," Steve said, rubbing his hand over his face. "But we can't just leave. The world is in chaos, everyone is panicking, and you want us to go? Go where?"

"I bought a lakehouse a few years back. It was an impulse buy, and I haven't been there since I bought it. Might be a good project for us all." Tony informed everyone.

"So you want us to go and move into a place that isn't even finished yet?" Steve scoffed.

"It's finished. It just needs some repairs."

"Steve, why are you so against this?" You cut in. 

"Because we lost! Because Thanos defeated us, and then we lost again because of the stones. Some people lost everyone and everything, and we can't fix it." Steve sighed, looking away from the three of you.

"Steve, we're allowed to live our lives," Natasha said, standing from the bed and pulling him over. "Yes, it is terrible what happened to all those people, but we are allowed to be happy. We are allowed to be happy that we survived, that we have a child on the way."

"Why can't we have this, Steve?" Tony asked him. "We've been fighting for years. And the point was so we didn't have to fight, and this is not the way we thought it would happen, but it's happened. We've fought for years for this." Tony said, taking Steve's hand and putting it on your stomach.

"This could be a blessing in disguise, Stevie." You mentioned intertwining your fingers with his. "This is our reason to take a step back. To focus on ourselves for once, to focus on our little one. We've never been safe here, and we'll never be safe here. Neither will they."

Steve had eventually agreed to the plan. It had taken hours for the four of you to come to an agreement, but you finally did.

You, Tony, and Natasha would fully step back. You were done. There would be no more Avengers activities for the three of you. Steve himself couldn't leave completely.

His conscious wouldn't allow him to in a time he felt was less than desirable.

So Steve would come back to the city once a week and see if Bruce needed help with anything.

But that was it for him.

"Is that everything?" Natasha asked, putting her last bag in the car.

"Should be." You nodded, moving to stand behind her. "Anything else the movers will bring." You added, wrapping your arms around her waist.

"Someone's cuddly this morning," Steve commented as he and Tony entered the garage.

"What do you expect, Steve? You woke her up at five a.m." Tony clucked, pulling on his sunglasses.

"We had to get up at five if we wanted to load up the car and get there at twelve." Steve shook his head. "Speaking of leaving, is everyone ready?" 

"I'm always ready, Cap," Tony smirked. 

"Let's get going." Natasha nodded.

"Y/N?"

"Let's do this." 

Non-reader POV

"Your alpaca ate Steve's laundry today." Y/N casually informed Tony as she prepared lunch.

"He's our alpaca, thank you." Tony corrected her, stealing a piece of cooked chicken. "And why was he using the clothesline anyway? We have a dryer."

"Because sometimes it's nice to do things the old-fashioned way." Y/N smiled. "Can you bring those three in for lunch?"

"Of course," Tony said, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving out the back door.

Tony was smiling as he made the short walk from the house to the hideout. When he was within hearing distance, Tony began to clap several times.

"Chow time!" He called. "Hello?" He greeted in a random accent as he took a seat outside the hideout. "Parker J, Sarah M, Stark, you two and your mom want some lunch?"

"Define wunch or be disintegwated," Sarah demanded, exiting in an Iron Man helmet as Parker barrel rolled out and jumped into a superhero pose.

"Woah, Woah, Woah," Tony said, raising his hands up. "You should not be wearing that." He informed his daughter as he gently removed it. "Where did you get it?"

"I let them play with it," Natasha said, crawling out of the hideout. "That was a very well done threat, Sarah." She complimented her daughter, pressing a kiss to her head. "And your roll and jump are coming along well too, Parker." She added, kissing her son's head too.

"Thank you, mama." The twins responded in unison.

"You were watching them, Nat?" He asked. "Then I suppose it's okay. You three thinking 'bout lunch? A handful of crickets and some lettuce, for you three, I think." He teased, causing Parker and Sarah to make a noise of disgust.

"No, daddy!" Parker shrieked, scrunching his nose.

"Yucky!" 

"Don't worry, I won't let him poison you," Natasha said, taking Parker into her arms. "You got her?" She asked Tony.

"Always do." Tony nodded, taking Sarah into his arms. "C'mon on you three. Let's not keep your mom waiting."

Tony and Natasha began walking back to the house when they saw Steve's truck pull up. The two were smiling at the blonde's arrival until they saw Scott Lang and Bruce Banner getting out of the car too.

Reader POV

"I can't believe you brought them here, and for that." Tony scoffed.

Scott and Bruce had left an hour ago. The conversation had not gone the way Steve had wanted, with Tony blatantly dismissing the notion of using time travel.

Tony had disappeared into his garage an hour ago, but the second he came back into the house, he and Steve began to argue. You and Natasha had sent the kids upstairs while you sat on the couch and watched the two.

"Tony, Scott came back that's something. That means we have a chance." Steve pressed his husband. "We have a chance to go back and fix this."

"There is no chance. We can't go back. His theory was based on a movie. Why can't you accept that we change the past? Why can't you accept that we lost?" Tony scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the blonde.

"Why can't you believe we have a chance to fix this?"

"Because even if this plan worked, there is a chance that we lose everything." He said, waving his arms around the room. "We lose the last five years, and we lose them. We lose our kids. Do you want that, Steven?"

"Of course not!" Steve exclaimed. "You know I would never do anything to endanger our children!"

"Boys." You snapped, standing from the sofa. "Neither of you are getting anywhere like this. You are solving nothing. Cool off." You demanded, crossing your arms. 

"Don't need to ask me twice." Tony shrugged, going back towards the garage.

"Fine." Steve ground out, leaving out the back door.

"You go after Steve, and I'll go after Tony?" Natasha suggested as she stood.

"Deal." 

Natasha moved to follow after Tony, and you pursued Steve. You found Steve exactly where you thought he'd be.

"You know we don't need any more firewood, right?" You asked, watching as he began to stack a pile of logs.

"He never listens. To anyone." Steve grumbled, picking up an ax.

"I hope you're not going to take that to him." You joked, moving to stand across from him. "Steve, talk to me."

"This could work, Y/N. We could fix this." Steve sighed. "I don't know why he won't listen." 

"Because of them." You gestured to the kids' hideout by the lake. "And because of Peter." You added, causing Steve to go quiet. "We were all close with Peter, but Tony was closest. We both know it hurt him really badly when Peter died, and now he's scared something is going to the twins."

"You know I would never do anything that could hurt them," Steve promised you. 

"I know that. Tony knows that, but he's just scared. What happened on Titan hurt him more than he wants to admit in a lot of ways.  He just needs time." You promised, taking the ax out of his hands and pulling him into an embrace.

After your talk with Steve, you had brought him inside. The two of you went upstairs and sat with the kids for a while. Parker and Sarah were coloring, but they insisted you and Steve stay.

You could never refuse the kids, and you even allowed them to stay up an hour later before you had to send them to bed.

You and Steve had then moved to your bedroom, where you and he just crawled into bed.

"Can I come in?" Tony asked, standing in the doorway while Natasha strolled right in.

"Of course you can," Steve said, making room for him in the middle as Natasha crawled in behind you.

"We had to put the kids back to bed," Tony said. "Tash gave them both juice pops."

"Liar." Natasha scoffed before you all went quiet.

"I figured it out," Tony murmured after a minute. "Time travel. Tasha saw it."

"That's amazing," Steve said.

"And terrifying." You mentioned.

"We got really lucky. Not a lot of people did, and I can't always help everyone." Tony said, looking at the ceiling. 

"Seems like you can here," Steve told him.

"Not if I stop. I can put a pin in it right now and stop." Tony said to him.

"Tony, you've never been able to stop." Natasha shook her head. "If we could've ever gotten you to stop, our lives would be very different now." She added, causing the three of you to chuckle.

"I don't know. Something tells me I should put it in a locked box and drop it to the bottom of the lake."

"Tony, you'd never be able to stop." You said, taking his hand. "None of us would be able to rest if we knew we could've helped."

"We'd never be able to stop," Steve told him.

"We've never been able to stop." Natasha snorted. "It's been five years, and we're still going. We've never been able to stop."

You'd gone back to the compound the next day. Pepper and Happy had volunteered to watch the kids, and after a long goodbye, the four of you had driven back.

There Tony had shown Bruce what he had worked out, and the rest of you worked on a plan. Natasha had gone and brought Clint back, and he had test-driven the machine.

Once Clint had given you the affirmative, all you had to do was find the stones. 

Everyone had been assigned a stone and a team. From there, you would travel back in time, collect the stone, and return so Bruce and Tony could add them to a glove Tony had made.

You would be going to Asgaard with Thor and Rocket.

You were all standing on the platform, ready to travel back through space and time. 

"Hey," Natasha said, drawing everyone's attention to her. "See you in a minute." She smiled giddily. 

And with that, you were gone. 

An hour on Asgaard passed quickly. Thor had runoff, and you had had to follow him through the large halls. Thor had found his mother and finally had the reunion and talk he'd needed. 

It was when Rocket rushed into the room with the stone, and Thor summoned Mjolnir that the three of you had to go back.

"Did we get 'em all?" Tony asked immediately, clicking off his suit.

"Are you telling me this actually worked?" Rhodey laughed, looking around at everyone.

"Clint," You started. "Where's Nat?" You asked, not seeing your wife.

Everyone went silent as they all turned to face the archer, who was soaking wet. Clint didn't look up as he continued to stare at the ground silently.

"Clint?" 

"What are we going to tell the kids?" You asked your husbands. Everyone had moved outside to the lake. No-one had made the decision aloud, but it was just too hard to sit inside.

"What can we tell them?" Tony asked, staring blankly at the water.

"You're acting like she's dead. Why are we acting like she's dead?" Thor asked, storming over. "We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones, we can bring her back. So stop this shit!" He demanded of the three of you. "That's your wife! Stop it!"

"We can't get her back," Clint said quietly. "It can't be undone." He added, shaking his head sadly.

"You're an earthly being." Thor scoffed. "We're talking about space magick."

"Yeah, look, I know I'm way outside my pay grade here, but she's not here. Is she? It can't be undone. At least that's what the floating spaceman said, but why don't you grab your hammer and go talk to him!" Clint began to yell.

"All of you stop it," Steve ordered, standing from his seat. "Arguing isn't going to solve anything."

"Why aren't you more upset about this, Cap?" Clint asked. "Why aren't any of you reacting? She was your wife, for fucks sake!"

"You don't think we know that!" Tony yelled, rounding on him. "You don't think we know that our wife just died for that fucking stone! Because we do! And now we have to go to a home where she won't be! Where we have to tell our kids why their mama won't be coming home! So don't fucking tell me we aren't feeling this because we are fucking feeling it!" 

"All of you stop arguing." You said, standing up. "Natasha died for that stone, and I'll be dammed if we don't finish this for her. We're going in there to end this." You added, moving back towards the compound.

As you walked past Scott, who had been standing at the end quietly, you snapped.

Grabbing him by the collar, you pinned him to the pillar. 

"If this does not fucking work and all this was for nothing, I will kill you. If Natasha died for nothing, I will fucking slaughter you." You promised before being pulled away by strong arms.

"We'll meet you inside," Steve said to the others who were beginning to walk past you.

When everyone had walked away, and it was only you, Steve and Tony, the dam broke. 

Your legs could no longer support you, and you would have collapsed to the ground in a disheveled heap had Steve not been holding you up.

Tears were pouring down your face as your body wracked with an onslaught of sobs.

Tony's arms wrapped around you and Steve as the three of you stood on the dock, all crying.

"What do we do?" You asked as you began to calm yourself. "What do we do?"

"We finish this," Tony told you. "We need to finish this, so we can stop."

The stones had worked. It hadn't been for nothing.

Bruce had snapped everyone and everything back to life. 

But of course, things never could work out for the Avengers.

Just as everyone was beginning to feel hopeful and happy at this achievement, the building had blown.

Thanos had returned. 

You and Tony shielded as many as you could when the building blew. But when the time came to fight the Titan, it was only you, Steve, Thor, and Tony. 

"Where are the stones?" Steve asked, standing beside you.

"Somewhere under all this," Tony said, staring at the Titan. "All I know is he doesn't have them."

"So we keep it that way." You told them, narrowing your eyes at Thanos.

"You know it's a trap, right?" Thor asked you all.

"Yeah, I don't much care." Tony shrugged.

"Good, just as long as we're all in agreement," Thor said before there was a rumble of thunder. "Let's kill him properly this time."

You were failing. Your asses had been getting kicked when the portals began to open. 

And then chaos ensued. 

There were so many moments of the battle you were sure you'd never be able to fully remember it all.

The only part that you completely remembered and would haunt you in your dreams for decades to come was when the glove flew from Carol's hands.

Everyone raced for it and rushed to protect it. 

Thor and Steve fought Thanos together. Carol fought him alone. You and Steve fought him.

But eventually, you were all thrown to the side and forced to watch as Thanos pulled on the glove.

Carol tried once more to get the glove away from Thanos, only to be blasted to the side by the power stone.

Just as Thanos looked like he was going to snap, Tony rushed forward in a last effort attempt. He grabbed at the glove, but Thanos threw him back.

Tony landed beside you and Steve as Thanos readied to snap.

"I am inevitable," Thanos said, raising his hand. As he was raising his hand, you noticed something.

The stones traveling up Tony's suit. 

His skin was already beginning to burn as the power traveled through his body.

He wouldn't survive this on his own.

You shared a look with Steve, who nodded at you. 

"I am Iron Man," Tony said as you and Steve rushed forward. You and Steve stood behind him and placed your hands on his exposed skin.

You and Steve let out mirrored gasps of pain as the burning traveled through your bodies as well. You could feel a hand placed on your shoulder and heard more gasps and grunts of pain.

When you opened your eyes, Thor, Clint, and Bruce had all joined your makeshift chain.

"And we're the Avengers," Steve grunted, squeezing Tony's shoulder, who quickly snapped his fingers.

The six of you let out mirroring cries of pain after his snap. Your skin felt as if it were boiling and about to be peeled from your own body. But it was worth it.

It was worth it because Thanos’ army began to disintegrate. 

And when Thanos sat down and he turned to dust, there was no greater feeling.,

"Tony?" Steve asked, causing your head to snap to the side. Tony was kneeling against a large piece of debris in obvious pain.

"Tony." You gasped, rushing towards him. "Oh God, Tony."

"It's not that bad, is it?" Tony asked you. "Do I still have my rugged good looks?"

"You could never lose them." Steve laughed, gently brushing his hand across Tony's burnt cheek.

"Tony, do you need to stop?" You asked, dreading the answer. "Because if you need to, you can stop now."

"Never," Tony grunted, sitting upright. "Where's Strange? I think I'm going to need a doctor."

The three of you were in a Wakandian hospital. Strange with some help from Shuri had been able to save Tony’s life. He had lost his arm to the gauntlet and that side of his body would forever be scarred. All six of you would forever bare the scars from this fight.

The six of you had been scarred by the power of the stones but Tony’s had been the worst.

The three of you had been in this hospital room for three days now and today was the day Pepper would be bringing the kids to visit.

“How do we tell them about Nat?” Steve asked.

“I have no idea.” You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s any version that’s going to be easy for them to hear.”

“What time did Pep say they were coming?” Tony asked.

“Any time now.” You said after glancing at the clock.

“There’s no time to plan anything is there?” Tony shook his head. We’ll just have to wing it.”

“There’s a part of me that just wants to run away.” You admitted. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You just faced down Thanos with not a hint of fear, and two five-year-olds are scaring you?” Steve asked with a slight chuckle.

“Don’t act as if they’ve never scared you.” You said, lightly hitting him on the arm. “We all remember the juice pops incident.”

Before Steve could retort, there was a light knocking on the door. You all turned your heads to see Pepper standing at the door.

“Where are the kids?” Tony asked immediately.

“They’re right here.” Pepper was quick to reassure the three of you. “They’re both safe and ready to see you, but they have a surprise for you.”

“They better not have brought Gerald. I still haven’t forgiven him for the laundry.” Steve grumbled as Pepper stepped to the side. And in walked the kids. Both Parker and Sarah were smiling brightly as they pulled Natasha in.

“Nat?”

“Tasha?”

“Natty?”

The kids would tease you for years about the three of you crying when you saw Nat in that hospital room. They would tease you for years until they were old enough to be told the truth of what had happened.

Natasha had no idea what happened to her. She remembered falling and she remembered waking up at the remains of the compound where Strange had found her.

But it was her. It was 100% your Natasha and the three of you couldn't be more thankful that she was alive and with you once more.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Tony asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Just can’t get over how lucky we were.” You murmured, watching Steve and Natasha play with Parker and Sarah in the yard. “We got really lucky with this, Tony.”

“I know.”

“We can’t push our luck when it comes to this family. We thought we lost Nat, and we would’ve lost you if you had snapped alone. I don’t know if we’ll ever be this lucky again.” You said, looking up at your husband.

“We probably won’t, but it doesn’t matter, because we’re done. We’re finally stopping. All of us.” He promised, leaning down to connect your lips.

“Gross!” A small voice shrieked, causing you and Tony to pull apart. You saw your husband and wife staring at you both adoringly as the twins watched you with disgusted faces.

“Don’t you like kisses anymore sweethearts?” You teased, pulling out of Tony’s hold and stepping onto the porch. “You two better run, because I think I want to kiss my babies.”

“I think they both are in need of cuddles and kisses.” Tony agreed and the two of you raced towards your family.

The twins shrieked as they ran from the four of you, wanting to avoid capture. But of course they could never escape the four of you.

The day ended with you all layig on the lawn, staring at the sun, and enjoying the embrace of one another. 

This is what you fought for. This is why you all fought to stop.

And it was so worth it.

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[indomies]

#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES - When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours.

sabrina @lanwangiji tagged me to show how i made my zayn’s birthday edit! check out her explanation on this mesmerizing zayn’s edit

1. PLANNING

It’s Zayn’s birthday, I ought to make something because so far I have made birthday posts for Louis, Niall and Liam. I didn’t participate in his birthday challenge so I had more time to create something for his birthday. I saw this post by @spaceniall​ and instantly fell in love with it. It's so clean, so neat,  an amazing edit. I had that post tagged for inspo and because my Louis’s birthday edit was a bit “grand”, I thought I should make something simple. 

I went to look for some photos of Zayn everywhere. Literally e v e r y w h e r e. I saved every photo I found beautiful and there were a LOT. I asked my friends for adjectives that describe Louis best and added them on my Louis’s birthday post, and I followed that approach for this edit. I asked several friends what they think of Zayn and collected the adjectives. 

This was a time where I haven’t used trello board, so I put all the adjectives in a google doc. Seriously I swear by trello board, they make my life easier.

After I had all the photos and the adjectives, I went to pinterest to look for the color palette. I forgot how and why I came up with this color scheme, but I believed I wanted something pastel and muted color. 

I had this idea to make an evergreen birthday post. I didn’t want to state any “happy birthday zayn” or his age on the graphic. I didn’t want to make all the edits to have his face because I wanted to showcase my graphics and typography style lmao. So I came up with 2 pictures with Zayn’s face and one central picture with his name. And I’m obsessed with space stuffs so this birthday edit is space themed.

2. PROCESSING

This is one of my earliest edits that I made in Illustrator, though I used Photoshop as well.

2.1 REMOVING PICTURES BACKGROUND

Remember I saved a LOT of Zayn’s photos? Yeah? Well I had a hard time choosing the right one. I asked Sabrina to help lmao. After I agreed with myself which photos I would use, I opened Photoshop and prayed it won’t crash after 5 min.

I uploaded the 2 photos and then I used selection on Zayn and then clicked inverse and deleted the background. Recently I found this website who can delete your background in 1 min, tbh that’s a life saver. I recommend using them, if you hate removing backgrounds with Photoshop. 

I saved the backgroundless Zayn’s photos as png. And we’re moving on to the next step

2.2 THE TYPOGRAPHY

I only used Photoshop to remove the backgrounds. Now onto Illustrator. Always pray it won’t close by itself every 5 min.

I don’t really remember which dimension I used, but I suspect it’s 600x700 px. I made 3 artboards and loaded the color palette I found from Pinterest. I made 3 rectangles as the backgrounds for each picture and filled them with my desired colors, 2 pink and 1 green. Green being the standalone was put in the middle.

A bit of excursion based on my experience

When you open an artboard in Illustrator, you’ll see a white background. When you save the file you’ve worked on, it’ll actually be transparent. That’s why I always draw a rectangle as a background so it has a solid color. 

I focused on ZAYN (middle pic) first because I wanted that to be the main focus. I don’t remember the font I used and I already deleted all files. I followed this tutorial to make the text. Basically you write your text first and choose effect > 3d > extrude and bevel > isometric top. Changed the colors according to my color palette. 

I moved on to the first picture, Zayn and the adjectives. I uploaded his photo to the artboard and put it in the middle. I wanted the adjectives to encircle him. I just followed this tutorial on how to make the effect. I made that text effect because that reminded me of the saturn ring lmao. 

2.3 THE GRAPHIC DETAILS

Once I got the typography done, I made stars and moon to make the edits merrier and more space themed. 

For the stars you can follow this tutorials. For the moon I made 2 circles, one of them was bigger. I put the smaller one in front and click minus front (I think). For the saturn planet, I made a circle with filling and an oval with stroke only, putting the oval infront of the circle and delete the back part of the ring (I hope this makes sense). 

I have these lines around Zayn, my intention was to make Zayn pop and kind of crown him or give him a glowy effect sort-of. 

All I did was follow this tutorial and delete the lines at the top, because I didn’t want it to be too crowded. Then I put some stars and planets at the top to balance it.

2.4 FINISHING TOUCHES & EXPORTING

I rearranged some things, zoomed out the artboard so I could see everything as one post and picked and deleted some unwanted things. After I was satisfied, I added my watermark and it was my old url, I just typed louistomlinboo. (Now I made a logo-ish and use that as my watermark and the logo is not dependent on my url)

Ok I lied I used Photoshop again… so I had these adjectives in 2.1 that encircled him right but some parts of the texts are above him. I exported my Illustrator file as a psd, uploaded it on Photoshop and used layer mask magic to delete the texts that were above him to create an illusion that the texts went around and under him you know. See the picture below, some texts are beneath him.

For this picture I exported the png file from Photoshop, the rest directly from Illustrator.

This was when I learned I needed to scale up, because on Illustrator they all look good in terms of quality. But when I posted it, the quality was reduced. That time I just exported as big as the dimensions and I was disappointed with the quality when it’s on tumblr.

3. POSTING

I uploaded the 3 pictures I have on tumblr and chose “happy birthday zayn” with star symbols/emojis to keep up with the space theme.

So I always write out what my caption will be with the “rich text” option.

 Then I go to this color html website to add the gradient color in the caption and remove the “;” with “ “ in here. Once I have everything, I change rich text to html so I can put the text with color in html mode. 

Put some tags related to Zayn. (self promotion time lol. i have compiled tags for 1d creators check them out here)

I finished I think a week earlier before Zayn's birthday so I saved it on draft. I posted around midnight (my timezone is CET), because oh boy it is a competition with birthday post lmao. That’s what I feel like at least. You know, everyone wants to make a birthday post, I feel I have a better chance If I post something first. Whenever I have something done earlier before a certain due date, I either save it on draft or schedule it so it’ll be posted automatically.

Yeah that’s it! It’s not as detailed as before I think because the files are deleted sorry! 

i’m tagging:

@spaceniall​ for this wonderful niall’s birthday edit

@she-fearlesss​ for this magnificent louis’s birthday gifset

@finewalls​ for this mesmerizing animation

@louitomlinson​ (i know you’re not that active but if you want and can!) for this amazing edit

and @tomlinsun​ for this cool edit

[keanureevesisbae]

So Henry, you want to start a YouTube channel? - Prologue

Summary: Twenty five year old YouTuber Sandy Choi has no idea that one of her five million subscribers is the one and only Henry Cavill. When he asks her to help him out with starting his own YouTube channel, she falls more and more in love with her. But she should’ve known that dating one of the most desirable bachelors, does come with a prize. 

Henry Cavill x Sandy Choi (ofc)

A/N: What does one do when finding a new obsession with a celebrity? In my case, you write a fanfic series about it... and create an entire YouTuber including a channel introduction. Oops. If you want to be on the taglist for this one (I figure the people on my taglist for Keanu Reeves stories don’t want to be included on this one - if i figured wrong, let me know), please tell me and I’ll add you on it. 

Wordcount: 1.3k

Masterlist // Channel introduction // Chapter 1 

It has been about three months since Henry Cavill stumbled upon Sandy Choi’s YouTube channel and he is thanking the YouTube algorithms every single day for recommending it to him. He was surprised that he never heard about her before, since her channel is pretty big and well known, but maybe he is too old to keep up to date with YouTubers nowadays.

He binge watched her videos, watching clips from her from three years ago when she started her channel. Seeing her grow from a twenty two year old college student, to a successful YouTuber and young adult author, impresses Henry. He felt like he didn’t have his life together at that age at all and she seems so at ease. She has achieved great thing so far and watching her vlogs, helps him take his mind off his own life and the stress that sometimes comes with it.

He has a YouTube account, but only uses it to be subscribed to her channel and liking her videos. He doesn’t want to miss any of her updates on her channel. Henry is plopped on his couch, cuddling with Kal when he gets a notification.

Sandy Choi has uploaded a new video. Without thinking twice he opens the YouTube app on his iPad. He shouldn’t be this obsessed with a twenty five year old YouTuber, but it’s something about her aesthetic, about her calm way of talking and how she takes the viewers with her. It’s like being there with her and God, does he want to spend some time with her, even if she is just editing a new video, her book or is taking them with her during photoshoots.

The video loads and he gives it a thumbs up before the video has even started. Kal places his head on Henry’s lap, sighing deeply, as if the big fur ball knows that his owner will not give him any attention for the next fifteen minutes.

The slow song fills his living room, as he watches her introduction. They’re all snippets of today’s vlog, since he has never seen the footage before. Seeing her smiling in the camera, makes his heart flutter.

He feels like a teenager again, with the way he has this permanent grin plastered on his face, every time she posts things and he watches the entire video.

‘It’s the first of July,’ Sandy says, as she is sitting in front of her mirror, trying to fix her hair. Her make-up is all set and done. It’s very minimal, like usual, but with a brighter pink lipstick. ‘And that means in three days it’s the Fourth of July and I won’t be spending it in LA.’

Henry looks at his phone, to see that this was filmed two days ago. With the lighting speed she edits, he often wonders if she has some sort of magic powers.

‘It’s pretty weird actually,’ Sandy continues, ‘not to spend time with family on the Fourth. I moved here about seven months ago and ever since I stepped a foot in London, my parents have been sending me some serious threats about how I should fly back to LA on the Fourth of July. My birthday, Thanksgiving, they don’t care about that, weirdly enough.’

Henry lives in London, but he has yet to bump into her. He recognizes the places she visits and when he visits them, he never sees her, though he keeps his eyes out, praying for her to be there. God, he wishes he would just bump into her, though he has no idea what to say to her. Hi there, I’m Henry Cavill and I’m obsessed with your videos? He’ll probably scare her away.

He watches the entire vlog intently, as Sandy is taking the viewers with her for a stroll in the park, a nice cafe that he now wants to visit and eventually she goes to the dance studio.

She is a great dancer and he sometimes wonders why she’s not doing anything with it. The way she moves her slender body and knows how to control it, is absolutely mesmerizing. She posted a few dance covers on her channel, but she’s always alone. Never dancing with someone. He wonders if she comes up with these dances herself, whether or not she is free styling.

The video is almost over, yet he doesn’t want it to be over. She could make vlogs that are twenty four hours long, and he would watch it in one sitting. She’s crouched down in front of the camera, still in the dance studio, while she pulls out her hair tie, letting her long dark brown locks fall over her shoulders. ‘So,’ she says with a soft smile, ‘I’m sorry today was a pretty boring day. It’s just that I have been spending so much time editing my newest novel, that I just couldn’t read the last two chapters anymore, so I’ll be doing that tomorrow or later this week. I work ahead of schedule anyway, so I have some leverage. I just wanted to get a nice and quiet day in, so I’m going home now and maybe rewatch something on Netflix. I’m not in the mood for something new, since I have to focus on understanding the story, you know, so I think the Witcher will do for now. Haven’t had my fair share of Henry Cavill today.’

Henry can’t seem to focus on the last part of the vlog, where she wishes everyone a good day and the outro starts. She is going to rewatch the Witcher? Meaning, she has already watched it? She hasn’t had her fair share of him today?

What does that even mean?

And the way she said his name, he is going to die if he would rewatch that part.

Someone calls him and he picks up without looking. ‘Yeah?’ he says when he answers the phone, still living a bit on cloud nine.

‘For the love of God, man, you’re getting more and more impersonal every time I call,’ he hears his friend Jackson say from the other end of the line. ‘Where the fuck are you, man? We were supposed to meet each other like five minutes ago.’

Henry jumps up from his couch. ‘Crap, I forgot.’

‘Figured.’

‘I’ll be there in a second.’ He storms to the hallway, to find his running shoes, but he has to walk upstairs for them.

‘You’re always on time. What happened today?’

‘I was watching something.’

Jackson starts to laugh from the other side of the line. ‘Let me guess: a certain someone uploaded her newest vlog? Does her name start with an S and end with andy Choi?’

‘Very funny.’ Jackson was never supposed to find out about this guilty pleasure of his, but somehow Jackson did find out, like he always does. Sometimes Henry hates his friend, since he can read him way too well and pesters him afterwards.

‘Well, hope it was worth it,’ Jackson says. Henry can hear the smile in his voice and that means that he is going to mention this during their entire run.

Henry rushes outside after he slipped on his running shoes. ‘It was totally worth it,’ he says. Knowing he’ll tell Jackson anyways, he adds: ‘She said my name, you know.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I’m not,’ Henry says with a smile.

‘She honest to God said your name?’

‘Yeah and she is rewatching the Witcher.’ Henry can’t seem to get the permanent grin off his face. He hears her say it over and over in his head, visualizing it with the lovely smile on her face.

‘You need to fucking grow some balls, follow her on Instagram and slide into her DM’s. Everyone does that nowadays.’

‘I’m not going to do that.’

‘No, what you are going to do is bother me with questions like: “Why is she so pretty?” and “When am I going to run into her?”. Like I can answer those. It’s obvious that she is simply rewatching the Witcher because of the way you look. Everyone on earth is into you, why wouldn’t she?’

Henry clears his throat, before he says: ‘See you in three minutes.’

Taglist: @flhorah​

[soda-pork]

Hello i hope everyone is staying safe <3 I put together a list of some GA performance/concert vids if u ever find urself bored or feeling low during quarantine, i hope this cheers you up 😊

Here’s a video of their full set at Red Rocks, this whole performance is iconic from start to finish, who doesn’t love this vid tbh.

This video of them performing Psylla live from Capitol Studios is amazing, im in love w this video I watch it loads and everyday I pray that they upload this version onto spotify or something because its THAT great.

Another full set of them performing at Melt Festival, the energy here is v v nice.

Vid of them performing Hazey live in London!! These live vids they upload look so pretty.

Full set of their performance at Primavera Sound, they rly let loose and acted like dorks here, love to see it.

Video of a stripped back version of Life Itself for Radio 1 Piano Sessions, this performance is so soothing.

Cover of Kanye’s Love Lockdown on Triple J, their cover of this song is so damn good.

Full performance of them at The Current, they perform a chill version of the songs they usually play and its veeeeeeeeeeeery relaxing.

Okay that’s it! I hope everyone is taking care of themselves during quarantine, please stay healthy and well. 💕

[gallifreyevermore]

Guide to Emulating all the Fire Emblem same-sex hacks (or any other hack) via LayeredFS in the Yuzu (Switch emulator) and Citra (3DS) Emulator

I’ve received a number of messages about this so I think it’s time for an updated post. If you have any issues in following this guide, feel free to message me or drop an ask.

What IS LayeredFS and why do I want it?

There are two ways people install romhacks. The first option is to take every single file out of the ROM and replace the changed files and then convert all those files back into one ROM. As you might imagine, this takes FOREVER. So the smart people invented a thing called LayeredFS. This is where you put only the changed files in a designated folders, you load up your emulator and then bam, wam -- you have your ROM hack.

What is the current state of Citra and Yuzu with regards to Fire Emblem emulation? Are there any issues that I should be aware of?

Currently Fire Emblem Fates and Fire Emblem Echoes works without any issue on Citra. 

Fire Emblem Awakening will be missing the Spotpass paralogues unless you are using the extdata AND a EU ROM of Awakening AND you are also using that person’s save file (linked in the Tumblr post. Of course, you can import your characters into your save file and modify the difficulty of that save file. An explanation of how to do that is in the post)

Fire Emblem Three Houses can be played from start to end with the DLC on Yuzu but there are multiple major issues. Please refer to my  reddit post for information for how to fix the many numerous issues you will run into. I will summarise them here. 

There is a MAJOR CRASH in chapter 15 and 17 in any route that isn’t Crimson Flower  (AKA you MUST be on Edelgard’s route to not run into an unbypassable Yuzu crash naturally). This crash can be bypassed on any non Crimson Flower route with the use of a save editor or an ancient version of Yuzu Mainline 41.

There are also a bunch of random crashes so you will want to make bookmarks and backup the bookmark file frequently. 

People have also struggled to install the Ashen Wolves DLC. Basically, the people who usually make Fire Emblem didn’t make Three Houses and their file structures are all over the place. Half the Ashen Wolves files are buried in the other DLCs and most of the DLCs uploaded to places of questionable legality failed to notice that when the Ashen Wolves DLC was introduced, all the other DLCs were also updated. This combined with Yuzu’s extremely buggy DLC install system basically contributed to a bunch of people being able to install the DLC. Follow the reddit post linked above and pray.

Yuzu may be prone to crashing a lot on newer Nvidia drivers where the user tries to load a map and it causes unbypassable crashes and the non patreon builds may lack NVDEC support. Yuzu’s GPL license means that you are supposed to be freely allowed to share the patreon builds. Only use/screenshot the mainline builds when asking for support on their discord or else you’ll get publically shamed

Yuzu is also the most demanding emulator in existence right now. If you don’t have a great CPU and decent graphics card and at least 8 GB of RAM (preferably 16 GB), it will be almost unusable. 

What files from the actual devices do I need to run these emulators?

Citra requires aes_keys.txt and potentially shared_font.bin  to be placed inside of %appdata%\Citra\sysdata

Yuzu requires prod.keys  to be placed on the inside of %appdata%\yuzu\keys. Every time a new game/update etc is released, you’ll need a newly updated version of prod.keys to use it. That version is 10.2.0

How do I install romhacks in Citra (3DS emulator)?

There is a guide here: https://citra-emu.org/help/feature/game-modding/

For example. I am going to patching Fates Special Edition USA today.

According to Region and Game List.txt supplied by the hacker, the titleid of  Fates Special Edition USA is 0004000000179800. That’s the folder we want in the screenshot below. 

Inside the folder 0004000000179800 we notice a folder called romfs

this tells us that we have what we need for the citra guide. Because, to quote the guide

The RomFS directory contains replacements for the game’s assets and general files. 

Open Citra and right click your game and select the Open Mods Location

This will open up the folder where you should put the romfs folder from the  0004000000179800 folder in the gay fates hack

How do I install romhacks in Yuzu (Switch Emulator)?

There is a guide here: https://yuzu-emu.org/help/feature/game-modding/

For example, I am going to be installing the same sex FE3H mod in yuzu today. I download the atmosphere version of the romhack

Open up every folder until you get to the romfs folder. That’s what we need. 

Now open up Yuzu and right click your game

Open the Mod Data Location. You’ll see a folder, exactly like you saw in Citra. However, you MUST give your mod folder a name. I’m going to call my mod folder ‘same sex’. Inside the ‘same sex folder’, we’ll be pasting in the romfs folder from the same sex fe3h hack that we found earlier.

Now, Yuzu will load the hack when you run the game. 

Confirming that the mods work

You can confirm that the romhacks work, by loading up the support conversation page. In the 3DS games, there should be no A+ supports possible, they should all be S supports. Likewise for FE3H, you should be able to see S as a possibility against every name between your main character and all of the other characters. Except for the DLC characters because iirc it doesn’t work against them yet. 

[just-my-sickly-pride]

Debut || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader

summary || you’re twenty years old, a full-time uni student, and you’re living out of home. money is tight. so, naturally, you decide to sell your virginity to the highest bidder. when you get an offer from some guy in his mid-thirties, you put on your nicest dress and head on over. but there’s a problem: he has no idea who you are, or why you’ve turned up at his house at nine o’clock at night. maybe things aren’t going to be as simple as you’d hoped. modern day au.

rating || explicit, with fluff dotted throughout. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. the age gap between reader and roger is sixteen years.

word count || about 17.7k.

author’s notes || welcome one and all to my very first fic on this blog! i pictured roger circa ‘85 (specifically live aid) for this fic. this fic is also dedicated to my friend and fellow mid-thirties-Roger enthusiast Jennifer @mrfahrenhcit (i couldn’t find a way to work in everything you asked, but i’ve saved some of them for the next roger fic that’s in the works). fun fact: this is the first reader fic where i’ve used ‘Y/N’. some people have said they’d had issues with this post being extremely slow to load, or the app has crashed - i think it’s just bc it’s so long, and i apologise for the inconvenience.  [i am a proud member of the anti-cross-tagging club.]

masterlist

     You don’t think you’ve ever felt more nervous before in your entire life.  You’ve wiped your sweaty palms on your dress ten times in the past two minutes, and your heart hasn’t stopped racing from the moment you woke up this morning.

    What are you doing? Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?

    Well, that’s the thing. You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing.

    You aren’t doing it out of embarrassment, or anything to do with pride. You don’t feel pressured, not by anyone, not even by society, fuck society, but you saw some dumb article about it – it was hardly even an article, just gossip – and it gave you the idea, and then you were doing some research about it, just for the money, it’s just for the money, you’ve been living out of home for two years now and life’s still kicking you in the ass, so why wouldn’t you do it for money, if you could? And you can. So you went onto some website and snooped around to check for at least some sign of legitimacy, and then, well, you were making an account, and you made an account, and uploaded some photos that you never thought you’d upload to the Internet, and, a couple weeks later, you found out that someone had chosen you. Chosen you.

    And now here you are.

    On your way to a strange man’s house.

    To lose your virginity to him.

    Because he’s paid for it.

    Well, he’s paid half. The other half comes… after.

    And you’re not nervous about the actual sex part, you suppose, but more about the fact that you’re going to a stranger’s house for sex. Does that make you a sex worker? Could you call someone who played guitar in one gig and got paid for it, but never got paid for it again, a musician?

    Probably. But maybe that isn’t the best comparison.

    You don’t know much about this guy. Just his address, his name, his age – thirty-six, could be worse, to be fair – and that he’s obviously got plenty of cash to spare. And he’s definitely not the sort of guy you want to have around. Seeing as, y’know, he’s paid a twenty-year-old virgin to have sex with him.

    The Uber pulls up to a stop in front of a house. It’s dark outside, almost nine in the evening, so the house is hard to make out, but it’s quite a nice place, very white-picket-fence. Something out of a magazine catalogue about the suburbs. You thank your Uber driver and grab your oversized handbag, climbing out of the car.

    You close the door behind you.

    The Uber drives off.

    And you’re alone on the sidewalk.

    You hoist the handbag onto your shoulder. It’s got a couple of things you think you’ll need – condoms, lube, two change of clothes depending on what this guy is after. You think you look more than nice enough in your heels and tight, black dress, but just in case.

    You glance at your phone, double-checking the address. You send a quick message to your best friend Justine: at the house. will keep u updated.

    She’s the only one who knows; and she only knows because you figured that at least someone should know, if something goes wrong.

    Good God, you’re hoping nothing goes wrong. Not in that way. Not in any way, really.

    And again, you’re back to asking yourself what the fuck you’re doing.

    You take a deep breath, and start heading up the front path.

    Your hands are shaking by the time you reach the front step, but you force yourself to raise a fist and rap your knuckles on the door. The automatic porch light is yellow, and you can’t help but feel irked by how unflattering it is.

    You can hear movement inside the house. A part of you is searching for the sound of kids, although God forbid there’s any to be heard. But a guy like this… Well, your first conclusion is that he’s looking for an affair.

    You really don’t want to be some kind of mistress. But, you suppose, this is really just a business transaction, so you’re free of at least most of the guilt, right? All of it, if you actually have no idea if he’s married.

    Please don’t mention your wife, you pray. Don’t implicate me or whatever.

    Finally, the door opens, and you feel like you’re about to throw up your heart onto your feet. But you push it down, and drink in the man in front of you.

    If you weren’t sure before if he was a dad, now it’s unmistakable. He’s slim, and reasonably tall – not remarkably so, but still tall – and he’s dressed in loose jeans and a blue flannel that he has rolled up to his elbows. His hair is blond, sort of shaggy, sort of spiky, like he spends his time running his hands through it. You idly wonder what it’d feel like in your hands. Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

    But the thing that really knocks your socks off is the big blue eyes that blink at you, framed by eyelashes that you’d kill to have yourself. Those eyes flash down to your outfit, and then back up at your face.

    Okay. Maybe this whole thing won’t be that bad at all.

    You give him your most winning smile. “Hi,” you say in a way that you hope is both alluring and professional.

    He blinks at you again. “Hi,” he says, his eyes wide. His gaze flits up and down your body, like he’s trying to compute what he’s seeing in front of him. “Um, hello. What, uh– Can I help you?”

    His voice is soft, softer than you were expecting. Gentle, almost.

    You lick your lips and shift your feet. “I’m, ah, Mandy. Are you Roger? Taylor?” Your name is fake, of course. You’re not sure about his. Not that it matters.

    “Yes, that’s me,” Roger says. He scratches the back of his head. “Uh, I’m sorry, you’re, um, lovely, but I don’t think I know you.”

    Huh. Odd. Is this a foreplay thing? “We have an appointment. You booked me two weeks ago, and you gave me this date and this time,” you prompt unsurely.

    Roger’s brow crumples. “An… appointment?”

    You feel your face starting to heat up. You almost ask if you have the right address, but no, you already know that he’s Roger Taylor, he’s the one who booked, so you must have it right. “Yeah,” you say. “You, um…” You lower your voice a touch. “You already paid in advance. This is pretty much a done deal, but I’m just here to fulfil my end of the bargain. And then, of course, you’ll have to pay me the other half.”

    Roger’s starting to look a little pale now, and you’re not quite sure what to do with that. His eyes dart down to your outfit and back up to your face. “Pay you?” he says. “I’ve– what? I’ve paid you? What did I pay you? When?”

    Now you’re both embarrassed, and confused, and well, this isn’t something you’d pictured going wrong.

    You suddenly feel very exposed in your tight dress and heels.

    “Uh.” You scratch behind your ear. “Like, I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve booked me, and I’m here. And it wasn’t a small sum of money, so I doubt you’d want to…”

    Roger’s mouth opens, and then closes, and opens again. “Oh, shit, hang on,” he says, his voice flat, “did I… Was this all booked and arranged two weeks ago on the Friday night?”

    “Yes,” you say. “Why?”

    Roger sighs heavily, and rubs his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he moans. “For God’s…” He raises his head, and sighs again. “Look, um, Mandy, there’s been a big misunderstanding. I, um, went through a divorce, er, relatively recently, a few months ago, and I’ve been doing a bit of wallowing, I guess you could say, and my friends tried to cheer me up a fortnight ago on Friday by bringing round a few bottles of very nice whiskey and gin. I don’t remember a lot of that night, but, now that you mention it, I have some vague memory of my friends trying to get me to, you know, ‘move on’, and, um, I think they might have looked up… people online.”

    Your ears are really burning now. “Oh,” you say.

    “That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Roger adds. “You’re a…”

    “Not really,” you blurt. “Kind of. It– oh, man.” You bite your bottom lip, hesitating, not quite sure how much to reveal about the situation. “Okay, I’ll be honest. Yes, I’m… from a website. But I’m not – this isn’t a living, or a side gig, or whatever. Not that it would matter if I was, because there’s nothing wrong with…” You shake your head. Stay on track. “It’s just a one-off. You paid me to… to take my virginity.”

    You swear you can see Roger’s soul leaving his body in that moment. “You– I what?”

    You shrug helplessly.

    Roger takes a step back, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Jesus Christ.”

    “I’m sorry for the confusion,” you say, and your stomach sinks further when a realisation comes to you. “I…” You swallow. Your mouth is dry. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t – The money you gave me. I’ve done this to help pay bills and rent and everything, and it’s already been used. A chunk of it, anyway. I can’t refund you. I’m really sorry.”

    “No, God, don’t apologise,” Roger says. “You weren’t to know.” He shakes his head. “Fucking dickheads, the lot of them.” He looks to you, and warily inspects your face. “How old did you say you were?” His voice is small, like he’s scared of the answer.

    “Twenty,” you reply, and his shoulders sag in relief.

    “Thank God,” he says. “I mean, still, you’re so young, but at least you’re…”

    “An adult?”

    He nods, grimacing sheepishly. “I really am being honest when I say I don’t remember much of that night. My mates aren’t those sorts of people, but, well, who knows what they’d try to pull when they’re pissed.”

    “No, it’s fine,” you say. “I look young for my age. But I am twenty.”

    “No, I believe you,” Roger says quickly. “I’m not… No.”

    You wipe your palms on your dress again. What now? Do you just go home? That wasn’t the cheapest Uber ride you’ve ever had. You were kind of relying on that extra money.

    Roger seems equally at loss. “You– Did you have to travel far?”

    “Not that far,” you say. “Forty minutes-ish.”

    “Fuck,” Roger says. He puts his hands on his hips, and then drops them again. “What time is it? It’s nearly nine, isn’t it?”

    “Yeah, about nine.”

    “It’s late. You should be getting home.”

    Your heart sinks. Wow. Okay. This is really just over like that. “Um, yeah, I guess,” you say. You take half a step back. “I’m really sorry about the– the, um, whole mix-up thing. And sorry about your divorce.”

    Great. Real smooth.

    “Thanks,” Roger says. He hesitates, and you’re about to turn and head back down the driveway, when he says, “How are you getting home? Did you drive?”

    “Uh, no,” you say. “Uber.”

    “Uber? God, no, sod that,” Roger says. “Let me…” He fumbles for something in his back pocket, but comes up empty. “Let me pay for it. I don’t– Can I pay you for it?”

    “It’s all right,” you reassure him. “You’ve already given me– it’s okay.”

    “No, please, I insist,” he says. “Should I– cash? I can give you cash. Or… transfer…” He rolls his eyes at himself, those pretty blue eyes that shouldn’t belong to a man his age, but somehow suit him perfectly. “God,” he mutters. “I usually have things more together than this, I promise. I’ve just been caught beyond off-guard.”

    “Sorry,” you say again.

    “It’s not your fault, really, I don’t– How could I blame you? You had no idea. I am going to murder my friends.” He sighs, rubbing his temple. “Um. Okay. I’ve paid you before, haven’t I, if you got the deposit? How did I do it? I can just do it that way again.”

    “You transferred it to me,” you say. You shift in your heels. Your feet are starting to ache.

    “Let’s do it that way again, then,” Roger says. “I’ll just get my phone, sorry.”

    “It’s okay, really,” you say yet again, stopping him. “Don’t bother. I’ll– It’ll take me two minutes and then I can be on my way home.”

    Roger hovers, and then says, “Can I– Did you want to wait inside? Or out on the steps? Could I get you some water, at least?”

    You hesitate. “Um–”

    “I’m not trying to do anything,” Roger blurts, and then he shakes his head. “Now it sounds like I am trying to do something. I’m not. Really. If you want, you can just wait here and I’ll go inside and leave you alone.”

    You glance at your phone. You haven’t ordered the Uber yet, but you are pretty thirsty. You look back up to Roger. “Well, I already had it in my head that I was coming here to sleep with you, so I’m not really concerned about you trying anything,” you say. “Some water sounds nice, actually.”

    Roger laughs. Like his voice, it’s unexpectedly soft, and it makes you smile.

    “Um. Yes,” he says, glancing at his feet. “Well. Um, come on in, then.”

    You head back up the path, and Roger steps aside to let you in.

    You slip past him. He smells good.

    His house, on the inside, is just as white-picket-fence as it is on the outside. Not the tidiest, but you suppose he wasn’t expecting company.

    He seems to notice the slight mess the same moment you do, and he hurriedly darts forward to tidy up.

    “Sorry,” he says.

    “No, don’t worry about it,” you say.

    He bends down to grab an empty beer bottle from where it sits on the floor next to the couch. Nice ass.

    Not that it matters. You aren’t sleeping with him anymore. But, to be fair, you are only human. Just because you’re no longer ordering doesn’t mean you can’t admire the menu.

    “I, uh, wasn’t expecting any guests, obviously,” Roger adds, half-jokingly.

    You chuckle, and adjust your dress. Roger’s eyes flash down to your hands, then to your chest where you’ve pulled the dress down a little further in your adjustment, and then he quickly looks away, running his hand along his jaw.

    “Uh, um,” he says. “Water? Um– take a seat, by the way. Feel free to sit…” He gestures vaguely around him. “Sit anywhere. Anywhere you like.”

    “Um, okay,” you say, and hesitate, before awkwardly perching on his couch.

    “Sorry, did you say you wanted water?” Roger says.

    “If you wouldn’t mind,” you say.

    “Yeah, of course,” Roger says, and then disappears into the kitchen.

    You breathe in a lungful of air and slowly let it out. Wow. Talk about an unexpected evening.

    You take out your phone and message Justine. boy do I have a story to tell u.

    She’s online, and she replies immediately. fuck what’s happened?? everything alright??

    You bite your lip, considering how to reply. yeah I’m fine. the guy is super easy on the eyes, but there’s been a mix up and basically I am remaining firmly in the virgin zone for the foreseeable future lol.

    You backspace and try again. yeah I’m fine. long story short I’m coming home. tell u about it when I get there.

    is he ugly?? Justine replies, and you can’t help but smile in amusement.

    oh no, that’s not the issue even a little bit, you reply.

    “I’m assuming tap water is fine?” Roger says, reappearing with a glass of water, making you jump slightly and flip your phone face-down on your leg, as if he could somehow see the screen from across the room. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. I don’t really have anything else.”

    “No, no, tap water is fine, thank you,” you say, and he hands the glass to you.

    You take a sip.

    Roger glances away, seemingly looking for something to do or something to say, as if the answer is written in the walls. He chews on his thumbnail.

    Your mind scrambles to find something to say, but it feels like trying to eat soup with a fork.

    “Is everything all right?” Roger asks suddenly, looking to you. “I know this is probably completely inappropriate, but… Well, paying for someone to…”

    Your stomach sinks with embarrassment. “Oh,” you say. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. Just – could do with the money.”

    “Of course, yeah,” Roger says hurriedly, nodding. “You’re at uni?”

    “Yeah. And living out of home, so.”

    “Right. Yeah, of course, I should’ve guessed. Sorry, that was…”

    “No, it’s fine,” you say with a reassuring smile. You chuckle. “I’m sorry for disrupting your evening like this.”

    “No, no, it…” Roger smiles, and you feel every trace of oxygen leave your lungs, because wow, he’s attractive. “It’s a welcomed interruption, actually.”

    “It is?”

    “Well, all I had planned was to watch something shit on Netflix and drink beer,” Roger says, screwing up his nose. “Not exactly exciting.”

    “Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you say. “Sounds like they were big plans.”

    Roger laughs, and your heart thuds against your ribcage. “The sort of plans that sound much nicer when you have company, I think.” He pauses. “Not that– not that I’m expecting you to–” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Really, I’m not usually this… awkward.”

    “You don’t have to apologise,” you say, shaking your head.

    “I used to be a real ladies’ man, you know,” Roger says. “Back in the day. Before my wi– my ex-wife. And the kids.”

    “Sure,” you say, drawling sarcastically.

    Roger laughs again, a little surprised, but amused. “I was!” he insists. “I was picking up women left and right.”

    “I believe you,” you say lightly.

    Roger grins, and you have to take a steadying breath. “You’ve got a tongue on you, haven’t you?” he says delightedly.

    “So it’s been said.”

    It comes out more suggestive than you’d intended. Roger takes a moment to drink you in, and then he bites his bottom lip, looking away, one hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans, the other one slipping under his shirt, massaging his shoulder.

    Your stomach flips and jumps. You take a sip of water.

    “You sure you’ve never been with anyone before?” Roger says.

    You snort. “That’s a pretty rude question, don’t you think?”

    Roger smiles sheepishly. “You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

    You take another sip of water, and then say, “I haven’t slept with anyone, no. I think I’d know if I had.”

    “Right,” Roger says mildly, nodding.

    You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

    “Nothing, I didn’t say anything.”

    “You’re thinking very loudly. Is there something wrong with me not having slept with anyone?”

    “No,” Roger says, his eyes widening. “No, shit, that’s not what I was trying to say. It– you just seem… I’m just surprised. That someone like you…”

    You adjust your dress again. Roger’s eyes drop to your breasts again, and back up to your face. “What do you mean by that?” you ask, trying not to preen.

    Roger ponders over his answer for a while. “You just seem to… know what you want.”

    “Oh, you think so?”

    “Yeah,” Roger says noncommittally.

    His eyes find yours, and they stay there. Your heart is racing in your chest now, making your blood feel warm. You’ve been attracted to plenty of people before, but this is really something else.

    Roger clears his throat, breaking away, and you surreptitiously squeeze your thighs together.

    Your phone buzzes on your thigh. It’s Justine. so he’s hot?

    “Is that your Uber?” Roger asks. If you aren’t mistaken, he sounds almost disappointed.

    Your cheeks grow hot. “Oh, um, I haven’t actually… I forgot to call it.”

    “Oh,” Roger says. A tinge of relief? “Well, no rush.”

    “It’s just my friend checking up on me,” you add.

    “That’s good of them.”

    “Yeah. Well, actually, she was checking up on me before. Now she’s just–” You open and close your mouth a few times, but decide to be honest. “Uh, she’s just, um, asking about you.”

    Roger quirks an eyebrow, and it’s so hot that you have to look away. “About me?”

    Your phone buzzes again. are you on ur way home now?

    “Uh,” you say, and quickly type out, not yet.

    “What have you told her?” Roger asks, playfully curious.

    You put your phone down, and take a breath, smoothing your hands down your legs, thinking carefully of how to answer. “Just that you seem nice.”

    “Nice?” Roger says.

    “And you’re… Well.” You smirk. “I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in the mirror. No point in boosting your ego too much.”

    Roger steps forward, drawn to you by an invisible string. “I don’t think I understand,” he says faux-innocently.

    “I’m sorry, weren’t you just saying a minute ago that you were pulling girls left and right?” you say, cocking your head.

    “Oh, yeah, when I was twenty,” Roger says. “Not talking about now.”

    “Have you tried?”

    Roger pauses, slightly taken aback by this, and his eyes roll to the ceiling as he thinks, blowing hair out of his cheeks. “You may have a point there.”

    “And I suppose that’s why these friends of yours contacted me?”

    “You… may have a point there,” Roger says again.

    You nod to yourself. “I don’t see why they couldn’t have just taken you to a pub and set you up with someone there. It’d have been a lot cheaper.”

    “They’ve, um…” Roger cards his hand through his hair. “They’ve tried that, actually.” He hesitates, and then walks over to you, sitting down on the armchair near you. “They’ve taken me out a couple of times.”

    “And you’ve struck out?” you ask.

    Roger chuckles. “No. I – well, like you said, I suppose I haven’t really tried. I didn’t want to.”

    “Too soon?”

    “No, it’s not that. It’s…” Roger pulls a face. “I don’t know. Haven’t felt like it, really. Maybe it was too soon. Or maybe the thought of having to try to chat someone up just seemed like so much effort.”

    “Surely it wouldn’t be much effort for you.”

    Roger meets your eyes again, and he smiles slowly, running his tongue along his teeth. “Oh yeah?”

    Your phone vibrates. The way Roger’s looking at you makes you wish it was something else vibrating that you could put to good use alone in your room.

    Roger’s eyes flick down to the phone, and back up to your face. “That your friend again?”

    You hesitate, and then flip the phone over. hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

    “Yeah,” you say, and put the phone down beside you.

    “You going to answer it?”

    “In a minute.”

    You smooth your hands down your thighs. Roger watches like a hawk.

    Your hands slide back up your thighs.

    He swallows.

    You smile.

    “You, um, you ever…” Roger tears his eyes away from your thighs to look at your face. “Have– have you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

    “Yeah,” you say casually. “Not for a long while, though. And nothing too serious. Nothing as full-on as marriage.”

    Roger laughs, but it comes out sounding a bit strangled. “Yeah. That’s all right, though. That doesn’t matter.”

    Your phone buzzes.

    You ignore it.

    “I never got around to… all of that,” you explain. “Y’know. Fucking.”

    Roger’s face goes slack. “Uh–”

    “I wasn’t waiting for anyone special,” you continue. Your blood feels electrified under his gaze. “Just never quite got there.”

    “Never quite–?”

    You hum. “That’s misleading. I’ve made out with plenty of people, but that’s all. Some over-the-clothes action. Basically nothing, really.”

    Roger looks like he’s struggling to breathe. “Uh-huh.”

    “You probably find that hard to imagine,” you say with a wry smile. “Having kids and all. How old were you your first time?”

    Roger blinks, and takes a moment to reply. “Uh, I was sixteen.”

    You laugh. “God, I can’t even picture…” You frown, and shake your head. “It’s hard to picture what it’d be like, you know? The reality of it? You can watch as much porn as you like – and I’ve watched plenty, mind you – but, like, I know that it’s not real. Not realistic, anyway. I’ve spent what feels like ages just trying to picture what is actually is like, but it’s impossible for me to know.”

    “It’s good,” Roger says, and it comes out in a rush, and he looks surprised at himself.

    You feel a thrill go through you. “Good?”

    “Yeah,” Roger says. “Everyone says your first time isn’t good, but that’s only if your partner doesn’t know what they’re doing. And it’s nice when you have an idea of what you’re doing, too, but that comes with time. And if you have a good teacher.” He rakes his hand through his hair again. “But when the chemistry is right, and the mood is right, it’s… good.”

    “That’s descriptive,” you murmur sarcastically.

    Roger huffs a laugh. “What do you want, a detailed explanation? Graphs and illustrations?”

    “A demonstration would be nice.”

    Shit. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Why the fuck did you say that?

    Your eyes are wide, and you open and close your mouth a few times. “Uh.” Roger looks as surprised as you feel. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Wow. Is– is this part of the…”

    You blink. “Part of the…?”

    “The whole…” He gestures vaguely. “…thing. You being paid to…”

    “Did I just make a complete idiot of myself as part of my attempt to woo you as a kind-of sex worker?” you ask. You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Nope. No. That was all me. Just being a dumbass.” You groan, covering your face. “I’m sorry,” you say from behind your hands. “This is so embarrassing.” This whole night has been nothing but a huge embarrassment. You can’t wait to go home and forget about it, thanks to an unhealthy dose of alcohol.

    “I’m sorry,” Roger says.

    You lower your hands. “For what?”

    “For – I don’t know. I just felt I needed to apologise.”

    You snort. “You don’t have to apologise for me very clumsily and awkwardly and horribly trying to flirt with you, Roger.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “You’re probably used to seeing that all the time.”

    “Again, not for a very long time,” Roger says. “But I know what horrible and awkward flirting looks like, and… that wasn’t it.”

    “But clumsy, though, right?” you say, screwing up your nose.

    Roger chuckles. “Maybe. But that’s all right.” He shifts in his seat. “I was just as clumsy.”

    You wave a hand, and reach for your phone. It’s high time you called your Uber. And reply to Justine. “You weren’t flirting with me.”

    You re-read the messages from Justine you’re yet to reply to.

    so hes hot?

    are you on ur way home now?

    hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

    Then the new one, from a few minutes ago: for the love of god can u please reply to me. something. anything. I’ll take a solid thumbs-up.

    So you send a thumbs-up.

    When you look up, Roger is staring at you, and you realise he hasn’t spoken since you did.

    You’ve well and truly crossed a line somewhere. You can’t blame him for wanting you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m just – my friend. I’ll get the Uber now. Sorry it’s taken me so long.”

    “Don’t,” Roger says.

    You pause. “Don’t what?”

    “Don’t order the Uber.”

    Your stomach bubbles. “Wh– No?”

    “Not yet, at least,” Roger says. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I wasn’t flirting with you?”

    “Why would you be?” you respond automatically.

    “Why would…” Roger shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

    “Because I’m a random twenty-year-old woman who’s just shown up at your door on a Tuesday night dressed like this talking about how you paid to take my virginity,” you say bluntly. “Which is more than a little off-putting.”

    “Well, all right, I’ll give you that,” Roger says. “But here I am, still trying to clumsily flirt with you nonetheless.”

    You break out into a smile, a bashful one, and duck your head. “Oh.”

    “Oh,” Roger repeats, a touch playfully.

    You glance up at him. He’s smiling at you, pleased with your reaction, and the thought of kissing him flashes through your mind, and you’ve suddenly never wanted anything more. You purse your lips, looking at your hands again, fiddling with your phone, flipping it around and around in your grip.

    “Mandy,” he says gently, and you’re puzzled for a moment before you remember –

    “That’s, um, not my real name,” you tell him with an awkward chuckle. But you really like how he said it all the same.

    Roger looks so embarrassed that you can’t help but laugh. “Here I was, trying to be all suave, and now I look like an idiot,” he says.

    You shake your head. “You don’t. You didn’t know.”

    “I should’ve guessed you weren’t using your real name.”

    “No, it’s fine,” you giggle.

    “Well, am I allowed to know your real name? So I can try again?”

    You hesitate.

    “Unless you don’t want to,” Roger says quickly. “That’s fine. Security, and all. Stranger danger.”

     You laugh again. “Stranger danger? I’m in your house.”

    “I could be a stalker. You don’t know that.”

    Fuck, you’re attracted to him. “Dork,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

    Roger chuckles, his eyes sparkling.

    “It’s [Y/N],” you add.

    “[Y/N],” he repeats, and your breath catches ever so slightly. He pauses, and then comes to sit beside you on the couch, and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N],” he says. “I’m Roger.”

    You giggle, and take his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Roger.”

    He’s so close now. He smells amazing, and his hand is warm, and his eyes are so blue, and his lips–

    You realise you’ve been staring at his mouth, your hand still in his, and you glance back up at his eyes before quickly taking your hand back, looking away.

    You tuck your hair behind your ear, clearing your throat. You’re barely aware of your own body – only his, and how close it is to yours. Like there’s a force between the two of you, connecting you. When he swallows and moves his hand back to his own lap, you can feel it as if it’s your own.

    “Do you, um…” Roger takes a breath in, and you feel your chest, your lungs, buzz. “Tell me about yourself a bit.”

    “Me?” you say, looking to him. Oh, wow, he really is close. Fucking hell, you want him.

    “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you do for fun? Stuff like that?”

    You lick your lips, and his eyes dart to the movement. “Um, well, I…” You absentmindedly adjust your dress, and it catches his eye again. “I’m at uni, in my second year. It’s all right. Pretty stressful, obviously, but I like it well enough. I live with two of my friends. I, um… I like… dogs.”

    Roger laughs.

    This is so stupid, you realise. You both clearly want each other.

    You shake your head. “Stupid,” you mutter.

    Roger frowns. “What’s stupid?”

    “This,” you say. You gesture between the two of you for emphasis. “This.”

    “Oh,” Roger says. He shifts away from you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

    You huff. “You’re not.”

    “Then what–”

    “Kiss me,” you cut in.

    Roger stops. “Kiss you?”

    “Yes,” you say, keeping your gaze steady on his. “You’re too damn difficult to resist. So kiss me.”

    Roger hesitates.

    You raise your eyebrows. “Unless you don’t want to?”

    “No, I – I do,” he says. “I just…”

    “What?”

    “I feel like the circumstances… I don’t want you to think I’m just doing this because I’ve paid you to…”

    “I don’t think that,” you say. “And I don’t want your money; this is way beyond that now. I’m not trying to trick you into sleeping with me so I can force you to pay me. I just know chemistry when I see it.”

    Roger chuckles. “I was right,” he says. “You know exactly what you want.”

    You steel your nerves. “Yeah,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I want you.”

    Roger swallows. “But you don’t even know me.”

    “Nope.”

    “And you’re in my house.”

    “Yep.”

    “And I’m so much older than you.”

    “That’s right.”

    “And you’re…”

    “I’m a virgin,” you finish, nodding. “I know. But for the love of God, Roger, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to scream.”

    Roger exhales, shakes his head minutely, and then says, “God fucking damn it,” and leans in to kiss you.

    You immediately shift to press closer towards him, one hand coming to rest against his chest. He kisses you earnestly, but gently, like he’s nervous. Nervous about making you feel pressured, you can safely assume.

    But that’s not what you’re about. You pull back, and, before he can say anything, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist, and kiss him again, more deeply than before. He breaks away just far enough to whisper, “Holy shit,” and then ducks his head to kiss down your throat. You tilt your head to give him more room, one hand against his chest and the other raking through his hair. His hands, rough and warm, smooth up your thighs, and your breath catches. They stop just under the hem of the dress, and a soft whine slips from your throat.

    Roger moans in response. “Jesus Christ.”

    You reach down and grab at his wrists, urging his hands to go further up the dress. “Touch me,” you pant.

    He draws back, and you look down at him, at his slightly flushed cheeks and his ruffled hair, and you want him naked, right now. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “We can just make out, that’s absolutely fine. Just because of… the whole… arrangement…”

    “Roger,” you say slowly, “I’m only going to say this once, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

    He nods, swallowing.

    You cup his face in your hands, boring your eyes into his. “I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Right now.”

    Roger takes a shaky breath. “Are you–”

    “What did I just say?” you cut in. “Not repeating it.”

    Roger smiles, laughing breathlessly. “Bloody hell.”

    You smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

    “Oh, it most certainly is one, believe me.”

     You lean in to kiss him, and his hands, thank the Lord, slide further up your thighs. You start unbuttoning his shirt, blindly, fumbling a little, and your kisses grow more eager.

    You’ve kissed a number of people in your time. Not a whole lot, but a few. And Roger really takes the damn cake.

    When his shirt is fully unbuttoned, untucked from his jeans, you move your lips down his neck, and he moans, letting his head roll back, his hands shifting to grab your ass, pulling you against him. You can feel the tent in his jeans, and, beyond thrilled, you grind against it, loving how a bolt of arousal shoots through you. Roger’s grip on you tightens, and when you nip at his skin, he spits out, “Fuck.”

    You rock your hips against him again, and he laughs again. “God, it’s been too long.”

    You hum, nipping his throat again and soothing it with your tongue. “How long is too long?”

    “Months. Lost count. Ah, fuck.”

    You pull back, giving him a look, and he lifts his head to meet your eyes. “Try twenty years,” you say dryly.

    Roger shakes his head. “Can’t even imagine.” He kisses you, just once, and then murmurs against your lips, “I promise I’ll make this good for you.”

    You shiver. “I’m sure you will.”

    “I mean it.” He kisses you again, and then sits back, his hands sliding back to your thighs and squeezing them gently. “I want this to be good for you. If I’m going to be your first, I want you to enjoy it. So you have to tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, yeah?”

    You nod. “Yeah.”

    “I don’t care what it is we’re doing – you can tell me to stop at literally any point, and I will, no questions asked.”

    You nod. “I know, I know.”

    Roger chuckles. “You just really want to get things going, don’t you?”

    “Yes.” You press your lips to his, and, now that you both know where things lie between you, you’re both eager to get to the next step. The kisses quickly become more feverish, hotter, deeper. Roger’s hands go to the back of your dress, working the zipper down your spine, and you shudder at the feeling of it. When he’s done, you sit back to yank it over your head, dropping it the floor behind you.

    Roger’s eyes drink you in, his mouth hanging open. “Whoa.”

    You flush under his gaze. You know you look good – you’d worn your push-up bra and matching lace underwear for a reason – but it’s still a rush to get a reaction like that.

    “Bedroom?” Roger says, his voice a touch weak, and you nod, leaning in to steal one last kiss before climbing off him, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. He groans slightly as he does so, and you giggle.

    “I know, I know, I’m old,” he says.

    “No, I like it,” you say, tugging him closer to you and hooking a finger of your other hand through a belt loop on his jeans. “Dad noises.”

    Roger shakes his head, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you lean into the touch. “Don’t say that,” he grumbles. “Makes me feel even older.”

    “You’re not old,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re not even forty.”

    Roger laughs. “Ah, yes, a real spring chicken.”

    “Can you stop whining and fuck me already? I’m gonna be forty by the time we get to it.”

    Roger snorts. “Cheeky.” He leans in to kiss you, and you curl your arms around his neck, pressing into him.

    When you break apart, you take Roger’s hand again, and he leads you to his bedroom, both of you stumbling slightly in the dark house. You’re only in your underwear, but you’re still wearing your heels, and you feel like you’re in some kind of Victoria Secret ad.

    Roger keeps glancing back at you, his eyes sweeping your body, and he’s so distracted he almost runs into a wall at one point, and you have to tug on his arm to pull him out of the way, laughing as you do so. He retaliates by pushing you up against the wall and kissing you senseless, his thigh slotted between yours. You’re lightheaded and unbelievably turned on by the time he breaks away again, and it feels like a lifetime before you reach his bedroom. 

    Roger switches on the light.

    The double bed is unmade, but the room itself is fairly tidy, just a pair of shoes and a shirt on the floor. The whole room screams tax-paying adult, and you’re reminded again that the man you’re about to sleep with is, in fact, a proper adult. Not like you, an adult by the loosest terms imaginable, but a fully-grown man with children and a mortgage and a career, probably. A completely different world to yours.

    But none of that will matter when you’re both naked. 

    He closes the door behind him, and then you’re pouncing on him, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and all but tearing his belt off. His hands are tight on your hips, and when you undo his belt and the button and fly on his jeans, he pants, “Bed, bed, go sit on the bed.”

    You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing one knee over the other, taking the opportunity to quickly tie your hair back out of your face while and Roger fumbles with the rest of his clothes, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks and jeans. You can tell that he would’ve been thin as a twig back in the day, and you’d easily call him slender even now, but his body is soft, the sign of a father who’s spent more time taking care of the kids and having a beer in the evenings to wind down than going to the gym. It suits him, looks good on him. You’re certainly a big fan.

    Soon, he’s down to nothing but his boxer-briefs. His boxer-briefs, which are neon green.

    You break out into a grin, and Roger looks down at them, sighing. “Of all the fucking pairs I could’ve put on today,” he mutters.

    “They’re pretty great,” you say, and you make sure you have Roger’s full attention before you uncross your legs, spreading your knees wide, leaning back on your hands, “but I’m more interested in what’s underneath them.”

    From the look on Roger’s face, you’d guess his legs are about to give out from under him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he huffs, and he hurries over.

    Grinning, you scramble backwards on the bed, lying down, and he crawls after you, over you, and his kiss is bruising.

    Your hands are shaking now – with excitement and with nerves, a lot of nerves – but you ignore that, and worm your fingers inside his underwear, wrapping your hand around him and giving him a tug.

    He jerks, and you have a moment of panic where you think you’ve done the wrong thing, but then he kisses you with more fervour, so you do it again. This time, his hand finds yours, gently guiding you away.

    “Did I do something wrong?” you ask.

    Roger looks confused for a moment, and then says, “God, no. I just don’t want to get too worked up before we get to, y’know, the main event.”

    “Oh,” you say, smiling in relief.

    “You really have no experience at all, do you?” Roger says, sounding almost disbelieving.

    “That’s what I’ve been saying,” you say. “It hasn’t all been some elaborate ruse to get into your pants. Literally all I have is some vague, theoretical ideas on how this works. And I know the mechanics. But that’s it. So you’re gonna have to be patient with me.”

    “That’s fine by me,” Roger says. He chuckles. “It’ll make everything I do seem much more magical than it really is.”

    “Sure,” you say mock-condescendingly.

    Roger laughs, and he looks so wonderful when he’s laughing that you can’t help but smile, your hand reaching up to comb through his hair.

    He notices the look in your eye, your smile, and he smiles back in a way that makes your stomach squirm and your fingers and toes tingle.

    He kisses you, and the squirming in your stomach grows into full-blown butterflies, big Amazonian ones, and you begin to have an inkling that, oh no, this could be bad. This could be very bad indeed.

    It’s probably nothing. He’s just hot, and nice, and funny, so you’re excited to have sex with him. That’s it. You’re a duckling that’s imprinted on its mother. Except you’re a human, and Roger’s the first person you’re having sex with, not your mother.

    Not the best analogy you’ve come up with. You can’t blame yourself, though – the way Roger’s kissing you is turning your brain into mush.

    He presses a kiss to just under your ear, and then kisses all the way down your throat, and you tilt your head back. “Feels so good,” you murmur.

    You can feel Roger smile against your skin.

    He keeps going, kissing the hollow at the base of your throat, further down still, and you bite your bottom lip. He presses a kiss to the top of your right breast, and then looks up at you. “Can I take your bra off?”

    You nod eagerly, and he moves back so you can sit up. “Oh, I’ve still got my shoes on,” you said.

    “I’ve noticed,” Roger says, and you chuckle.

    “As super sexy as they are, I do wanna take them off,” you say.

    Roger ducks forward to drop a kiss to your neck, and the butterflies are back, and you can feel your cheeks going pink. You want to hide your face, but Roger’s right there, and you can’t look away from his eyes. “How about you take your bra off,” he says, “and I’ll get your shoes.”

    “You don’t have to take my shoes off for me,” you say.

    “Well, I want to,” he says simply, and shuffles down, climbing off the bed. He gestures for you to shift forward, and you do, until your feet are hanging off the bed, your knees hooked over the edge. Roger gets onto his knees – he makes a dad noise as he does so, and you giggle again – and fiddles with the buckle on one of your shoes.

     You take a moment to watch him, biting your lip, smiling, and then reach behind you and unhook your bra, slipping it from your shoulders.

    He doesn’t look up right away, and you’re thankful for a moment to get your head around the fact that you’ve never been completely topless in front of anyone before. You’re self-conscious about the grooves the bra has dug into your skin, about the way your breasts look without the aid of the push-up, and you almost go to cross your arms over yourself, but then Roger glances up, and his hands go still. “Bloody hell,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”

    You tuck your hair behind your ear. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice, unsure how else to respond.

    Roger shakes his head, and focuses back on the shoe, making quick work of it and easing it off your foot, setting it down beside him. He moves onto the other shoe. “Talk about winning the fuckin’ lottery,” he says.

    “I could say the same,” you say.

    Roger stops again, looking to you, and then smiles, looking back to the shoe. His ears have gone red.

    He takes the second shoe off and places it beside the first, then presses light kisses to the inside of your knee. He moves further up your leg, up your thigh, and you realise you’re holding your breath. His arms are curled around underneath your legs.

    Roger looks up at you, his thick eyelashes making him look almost angelic. “Is this all right?” he says. “If I…?”

    He’s asking if he can eat you out. Oh, God, he’s asking if he can eat you out. He wants to put his mouth and tongue there, and maybe his fingers, too, and no one’s ever done that before.

    You nod eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly, as Roger laughs.

    You feel your stomach cave in on itself in embarrassment. “Actually, no thanks,” you say, trying to pull your legs back. “Changed my mind.”

    “No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Roger says, still chuckling. He coaxes your legs back to where they were, and kisses your thigh. “It was just the look on your face.”

    “You’re doing a terrible job of wooing me,” you say, aiming for resolute and chastising, but it comes out sounding more weedy and humiliated.

    “I’m sorry,” Roger says again, and his hands stroke your legs soothingly. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed.” He smiles, a glint in his eye, and you’re momentarily left breathless. “Can I… make it up to you?”

    You can’t help but smile back, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Cheesy.”

    “Thank you,” Roger says. “I’m going to be honest, as fun as this banter is, my knees aren’t going to last forever.”

    You splutter a laugh. “Yes, yes, okay, yes please.”

    Roger surges up off the floor to press a firm kiss to your lips, and you take a moment to wonder just how dodgy his knees really are if he can do something like that, or whether he was just looking for a convenient segue into getting your underwear off. You’re not fussed either way.

    Roger kisses your collarbone, and then pulls back, hooking his fingers into your underwear. “Lift your hips up for me, love?”

    The pet name makes heat pool between your legs. Oh, Jesus.

    “Mm-hm,” you say, hoping it sounds more nonchalant to him than it does to your own ears, and lie back to lift your hips, and he slides your underwear down your legs and drops them near your shoes.

    You expect him to go back to his knees straight away, but he holds himself above you, kissing you, deep and slow, making you whimper into his mouth. One hand holds himself up, and the other one massages your hip, his thumb kneading your skin. Relaxing you, you realise. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, and you’re only partially aware when Roger’s hand moves from your hip to your thigh, brushing over your skin.

    You’re extremely aware, however, when his fingers stroke through your folds for the first time.

    Despite yourself, you jump, and Roger murmurs, “Sorry,” but you shake your head to dismiss his concerns, and pull him in again.

    For a few moments it’s strange, feeling someone’s else hand there, and you’re very conscious of how wet you are, and you wonder if it’s something you should be embarrassed about, but then Roger circles your clit, and suddenly all your worries seem very far away.

    It feels… good. Really fucking good. Roger’s fingers are rougher than yours, but they’re clearly experienced in how they move.

    You push your hips up against Roger’s hand, wanting more, and Roger complies, his fingers moving just a touch more roughly, and he ducks his head to nuzzle at your throat, kissing it, nipping lightly.

    “Oh, God,” you moan to the ceiling, overwhelmed already, and you almost laugh at how surprised you sound. Your hand grips Roger’s hair, and you hope it’s not too hard, but you couldn’t let go if you tried.

    Then Roger’s hand is gone, and you let out a choked sound at the sudden stop. You try to gather your thoughts to ask why, but then Roger is kissing down your body. Oh, man, you think, unable to conjure up anything else, and Roger chuckles, and you realise you said it out loud, but you don’t have time to be embarrassed, as Roger takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, his teeth tugging at it, and you gasp.

    “I’ve never… That’s new,” you say weakly, hissing when Roger runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple.

    Roger pulls off to ask, “Do you like it?”

    “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

    “Good.” He goes back to his task, and you arch off the bed slightly.

    “So good,” you breathe. Roger switches to the other nipple, and you moan appreciatively.

    Eventually, both to your dismay and your excitement, he draws away, and presses a single kiss to the space between your breasts. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says, and then he moves back to climb off the bed, setting himself between your thighs.

    You struggle to wrap your head around it. How he could be making you feel this good, and then still compliment you, as if you’ve done anything to deserve it?

    Roger doesn’t waste time talking now. He kisses the inside of your thigh, and then he dives straight in, his tongue nudging your clit as it pushes through your folds. You suck in a sharp gasp, your hand gripping his hair tightly. Your other hand flails, grappling at the sheets as he starts to find a rhythm. You wind up pressing the back of it to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds you’re making, trying to gather some sort of control, because right now you feel like you’re falling head-first off a cliff, and Roger has complete power over how you land.

    He does something with his mouth – you couldn’t tell for the life of you what it is – and your hips buck against your will. “Sorry,” you blurt out, and it comes out broken and breathless.

    Roger just adjusts one of his arms, bracing it across your hips, holding you down, and you moan. His other hand joins his mouth, sliding a finger into you. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper, and then your hand returns to its position, keeping you somewhat quieter.

    It doesn’t take long before Roger’s working in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you, and the sound of it is so obscene that it makes your face go bright red. You’re climbing towards an orgasm, frighteningly quickly, and when a third finger squeezes in beside the first two, you very nearly come, but the sting of the stretch is enough to keep it at bay.

    But then your body relaxes around the three fingers, and Roger crooks them just so and sucks on your clit, and you move your hand away from your mouth to say in a rush, “I’m– I’m so close, I’m gonna come, fuck, ah, shit,” and then–

    Then Roger is gone, his fingers and mouth are gone, and you’re left teetering on the brink of an orgasm, feeling like the air has been punched out of you.

    “Wh– Roger?” you say, your head a mess. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see Roger still between your legs, but instead he’s massaging your thighs with his thumbs, dropping light kisses to your soft skin.

    He smiles up at you, his nose and chin glistening. “Thought we could try something.”

    You shake your head to try to clear it. “But I was just about to…”

    You can still feel the urge. Another minute, and you’ll be there. But the longer you wait, the more the feeling fades. It makes you want to punch a wall.

    Roger hums. “I know. That’s the point.”

    You frown, trying to wrap your head around it. “You… don’t want me to?”

    “Not yet.”

    It finally clicks. “You’re gonna do that to me a couple more times before you make me come, aren’t you?”

    Roger’s smile widens into a grin. “That’s the plan. If you’re on board.”

    “I’m on board,” you say. “As long as when I do come, it blows my fucking mind.”

    “That’s really the point of it, love.” Roger keeps eye contact with you as he leans forward to press a kiss to your core, and you shudder. “And move your hand away from your mouth. You don’t have to be quiet. The more sounds you make, the better.”

    “When am I gonna get my hands on you?” you ask. “I’ve barely even touched your dick yet.”

    Roger huffs a laugh, and you can feel his breath against you. “We’re getting there,” he says easily. “Good things come to those who wait.”

    “Ugh, that’s such a dad thing to say,” you bemoan, lying back down.

    Roger laughs again, and then his mouth and hands return to where you so desperately need them. You suck in air through your teeth. “Fuck, Roger.”

    Roger moans, and you jerk at the sensation.

    He brings you to the edge once more, and, even though you don’t tell him when you’re about to come, he knows, and leaves you hanging once again. So close, so close, but not close enough.

    You feel like crying. Or kicking him in the face.

    You moan helplessly, slinging an arm over your eyes, your legs trembling as Roger smiles against your thigh – you can feel it. A smug smile that makes your blood boil and your core throb even more than it already is.

    Then his fingers push into you for a third time, and his tongue licks through you, but this time it’s slow, painfully slow, not enough to make you come but enough to keep your head lost in the clouds, enough to make your stomach clench and twist, desperately searching for something. It’s enough to make you grind your teeth together. “God, fuck, I need to come,” you sob against the palm of your hand, your thighs trying to clench around Roger’s ears, but his arm is in the way, keeping your hips still.

    His tongue drags against your clit, steady and unhurried, and the gasping whine that rips itself from your throat is piercing to your ears. Not even your hand could muffle it.

    “There we go,” Roger says, and does it again.

    You squirm. “Roger, fuck, please, I wanna come so bad.”

    Roger’s fingers still move in and out of you at a leisurely pace, but he uses his mouth to say, “You wanna come?”

    “Yes,” you say miserably. “Please, I need to.”

    His thumb presses against your clit, and you bite your bottom lip, your body twisting.

    “Christ,” Roger breathes. “That’s a fucking sight.”

    “Fuck me,” you beg. “Anything, just please.”

    Roger takes his hand away, standing and wiping his face on the back of his hand, and you swear. He kicks off his boxer-briefs. His cock is hard and red, swollen, leaking. You sit up and zero in on it like it’s a four-course meal and you haven’t eaten in days. You scramble off the bed, dropping to your knees in front of him.

    “Fucking hell,” he says, clearly not expecting you to do that.

    “Can I suck you off?” you ask desperately, resisting the urge to just shove your mouth around his dick without further preamble. “I’ll do a good job, I promise. Just tell me what to do. I’m a fast learner.” You curl your fist around him, sucking the head into your mouth.

    Roger makes a strangled sound, his hips bucking slightly. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says quickly, guiding your head away with a hand on your head.

     You pull back, but keep your hand where it is. “Just fuck my mouth,” you say, gazing up at him. “I dunno how that works, but I can keep it open.” You do so, sticking your tongue out, silently begging with your eyes.

    Roger chuckles softly to himself, running a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna make me come just from running your mouth like that.”

    You open your mouth wider.

    “Or from just doing that,” Roger says. He pries your hand away from his dick, using it to pull you to your feet.

    He kisses you, a hungry kiss, a you’re doing so well kiss, and it makes you preen. “But I want to fuck you,” he says. “I’ve had my dick sucked before; you’ve never been fucked.”

    “I’ve never sucked a dick before, either, though,” you reason.

    “Well, hit me up next time you’re in the neighbourhood,” Roger jokes. Before you can reply, he kisses you again, and you drink him in greedily, palming at his cock until his kisses grow sloppy, messy, more teeth and tongue, and he has to snatch your wrist. “Let me get inside you first,” he growls. “Good God.”

    “I like it when you’re bossy,” you say, teasingly.

    Roger hums, his eyes dark. “You need that attitude fucked right out of you.”

    “Do it,” you say fervently, grinning in delight when he grabs your other wrist as well to stop you from touching him. “Do it, do it, do it. Fuck it right out me. I need it. Never had anyone try to fuck anything out of me before.”

    Roger shudders. “Jesus.”

    You half-heartedly try to tug your wrists back, but he holds them tightly. “Fuck me till I can’t walk,” you say. “Come on.”

    Roger takes a breath, and then lets your wrists go. “Bed. Now.”

    You scramble to obey, clenching your thighs together at the sight of Roger. He looks wrecked already, his hair a mess, his skin flushed, his eyes glassy, his lips red. He goes to his bedside table and digs out a bottle of lube and some condoms. “Maybe should check the date on these,” he mutters to himself, and squints at the packets in his hands. After a few moments of peering at them, he sighs in frustration, and reaches for the pair of glasses on the table that you hadn’t noticed before. He slips them on, and then nods at the packets. “They’re fine.”

    He goes to take the glasses off, but you say, “Wait, show me.”

    He turns to you. “Show you what?”

    Fuck, he looks gorgeous in those glasses. They’re large, round ones, with delicate silver frames, and you make a soft sound. “Oh, wow.”

    “I know, they’re horrendous,” Roger says, taking off the glasses and setting them down. “My eyesight’s always been shite, but I can’t stand wearing the bloody things.”

    “No, you look great,” you say. “So great, in fact, that I need you to get the condom on so you can fuck me literally right now.”

    Roger raises his eyebrows. “You what?”

    “I’m dying here, Roger,” you say loudly, smacking the bed beside you. “You look hot as fuck in those glasses, and I’m so insanely horny that I’m about to explode. I need your dick in me right now.”

    Roger grins, and rips open the condom packet. “All right. Jeez.”

    “Let me do it,” you say, crawling over to him and taking the condom from him.

    “You’ve ever done it before?” he asks.

    “Not since we had to at school when I was, like, fifteen.” You do it carefully, to the best of your memory. Your mouth waters being so close to his cock. “Is this right?”

    “Yeah, perfect,” Roger says. “You look incredible, by the way.”

    You look up at Roger, and the butterflies return. You’re left momentarily speechless, but it doesn’t matter, because Roger leans down and kisses you. His hand rests against your collarbones, and you get another idea in your head. You rise up into a kneel, keeping his lips on yours, and then you take his hand, pressing it against your throat: a silent invitation.

    Roger moans into your mouth, and applies some pressure, just a bit, testing the waters.

    It makes your core ache, and you kiss him harder, so he presses harder in return. His palm is warm against your throat, and you keep one hand loosely around his wrist, the other hand in his hair, as it is wont to do.

    You end up lying back on the bed, Roger pressing his hand against your throat as you gasp and squirm.

    “You like this, don’t you?” Roger says, fingers on his other hand dipping into your folds. “Fuck, feel how wet you are.”

    You nod desperately. Your mouth is hanging open, and your head is starting to swim.

    “Is that all for me, love?”

    You whimper, nodding again. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

    Roger lets go of your throat, and you gasp, your eyes wide. “More,” you say immediately. “More. Fuck me like that.”

    Roger smiles, keeping his palm against your throat, but brushes his thumb across your skin. His other hand curls around your knee. “Your enthusiasm is… mind-blowing,” he says with a chuckle, “but just take a moment, yeah? You’re all over the shop. Slow down a bit.”

    “I don’t wanna slow down,” you protest, grabbing onto his forearm.

    “We’ve got time, love. It doesn’t have to be over so quickly.”

    “You can’t tease me like that, almost make me come, like, three times, and then tell me to slow down,” you say. “I need you, Roger. Christ, I need you. Show me what it’s like, show me how good my first time can be.”

    Roger’s pupils are blown wide, and he lets out a shaky breath. He swallows. “Spread your legs.”

    You grin, and do so. Roger lets go of your throat and leans over you on all fours to kiss you briefly. “I’m not choking you while I fuck you,” he says. “I want you to feel all of it, not have your head somewhere else.”

    You nod vigorously.

    Roger reaches for the lube. You hold out your hand, and he raises an eyebrow at you, but pours some into your hand. You reach forward and slide your fist up and down his cock, spreading the lube. He groans and shudders, and then he says, “That’s enough, that’s enough, I want to fuck you.”

    You take your hand away, wiping the lube on the sheets, Roger surges forward to capture your lips with his, and you feel the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. A shot of adrenaline explodes within you.

    “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Roger says, and you nod.

    Then, slowly, he pushes into you, just an inch or two. You gasp at the stretch, gripping onto his arms, your mouth wide.

    Roger stills, and nuzzles at your throat. “You okay?”

    “Mm-hm,” you say, biting your lip. “Keep… Keep going.”

    He does, rocking in shallowly, just going a little further each time. He’s panting against your neck, and you can feel your sweat pricking your skin. You can’t help but admire Roger’s back, the way the muscles move.

    It feels good. Once you get over the initial shock to the system of having something that size inside you, you realise why you were so excited to get to this in the first place.

    “I’m good,” you say, nails absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. “It– It doesn’t hurt or anything.”

    “You sure?” Roger asks, kissing your neck softly.

    You can’t help but laugh. “Roger, for the love of all things holy, fuck me.”

    He doesn’t need another invitation. He slams into you, and your eyes go wide, a tiny sound of surprise leaping out of you.

    “Sorry,” Roger says, raising his head to kiss you in apology.

    “Don’t fucking apologise, it feels good,” you say back. “Come on, come on.”

    Roger laughs, and kisses you. You can feel his laughter against your lips, feel the way his smile changes the shape of his mouth, and that dangerously warm feeling in the pit of your stomach returns.

    You could get used to this. Get used to Roger laughing against your lips as he’s buried inside you. Get used to teasing him, to turning him on, to rolling around in his bed.

    As soon as the thoughts creep into your mind, you banish them. That’s not happening, you tell yourself harshly. This is a one-and-done deal. You can’t develop feelings for a man you’ve only met once. A man who is, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, sixteen years older than you.

    Then Roger pulls out halfway and drives back into you, and all you can think about is his dick.

    Your hand goes back to your mouth, just like before, keeping yourself quiet as you moan and whimper. Your ankles hook over the small of Roger’s back.

    But then Roger pauses, sitting up, and he unwraps your legs from around him and pushes one of your knees flat on the bed, keeping you spread out wide. “Hands away from your mouth, love,” he says. “Let me hear you. It’s okay, you can let go.”

    Your face burns, and you cover it with both of your hands. It’s too big of an ask. You’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Roger…”

    “[Y/N].”

    You lower your hands. He’s watching you, his blue eyes burning with desire, but they’re soft, too. Understanding.

    “Keep your eyes on me,” he says. “Hold onto the sheets, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

    You nod, and, with no small amount of effort, let your arms go by your sides, your fists wrapping in the sheets.

    Roger smiles. “You’re amazing.”

    You turn your head away, overwhelmed.

    “Eyes on me. Hey.”

    You look back at him. Exposed. You’re exposed, in every sense of the word.

    Roger braces himself on the bed beside your ribs, and, keeping one hand on your knee, holding it down, he starts fucking into you again, hard and deep.

    The sound you make could best be described as a mewl, and it’s a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. Your hands tighten in the sheets, fighting the urge to cover your face again. Roger’s eyes are still on yours, and it’s too much, you want to look away, but you can’t.

    “So good for me,” Roger pants. “Fuck. God, you’re incredible.”

    You whine. “Roger.”

    “That’s it, love. Say my name.”

    He thrusts into you at just the right angle, making your back arch. “Roger.”

    Roger groans, and he lets go of your knee to circle his fingers around your clit. You gasp, your eyes finally breaking away from his to look to the ceiling, feeling yourself climbing rapidly for the fourth time that night.

    “Let me come, let me come, please,” you beg, your arms straining as your fists pull on the sheets.

    Roger leans forward again to kiss you, a mess of heavy breathing and tongues and lips brushing. You let go of the sheets to clutch onto him, pawing at his shoulders and back and hips, unable to settle on where you want to hold him.

    One hand inevitably slides into his hair, and you grip onto it, tugging it hard. Roger’s rhythm stutters, and he groans out your name.

    His fingers feel so fucking good, and, doubled with the way he’s stretched you out, tripled with how he edged you before, you just know how hard you’re going to come. You can feel it building deeper within you than you’ve ever felt before, like an impending tsunami.

    Roger readjusts, sitting back again, his brow furrowed as he searches for just the right spot to hit you.

    When he does, you cry out. “Right there, right there, fuck.”

    Your hands scrabble for purchase, and one finds your own hair, burying itself, and you don’t pull, but you keep a firm grip on it, the slight pain being the only thing keeping you from losing yourself entirely. Your other hand finds the same spot as before in the sheets, and you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

    “You close?” Roger asks, and you nod.

    “Say it out loud, love.”

    “Yes, I’m so close, I’m so close,” you gasp. You’re almost there, you can feel it, only inches away, moments away.

    “Open your eyes, come on.”

    You do, and meet his gaze. “Roger,” you whimper.

    “You gonna come for me?”

    “Y-yeah.”

    “I wanna hear it, yeah? Wanna see you. See you come undone on my cock.”

    And that’s the final nail in the coffin. You orgasm pulses through you, so hard that you convulse, and you wail, blurting out Roger’s name, clenching down on him. Your blood roars in your ears, and you’ve never come so hard in your life.

    Roger moans out, “Fuck,” and then pumps once, twice more, and then comes, groaning your name, a shudder ripping through him.

    When he comes back to himself, blinking his big blue eyes at you, you can’t help but think he looks otherworldly. His face, pink, shines with sweat, as does his whole body. Locks of hair stick to his forehead, his temples. His mouth hangs open, and his chest heaves, and maybe it’s the ten-out-of-ten orgasm you just had, but in that moment, you kinda want to marry him.

    He takes the hand you’ve tangled in the sheets, and presses a kiss to your wrist. Your heart just about explodes. “You all right?”

    You splutter. “All right? The fuck’s that meant to mean?”

    Roger smiles, massaging the palm of your hand with his thumb. “I mean, are you hurting anywhere?”

    My heart hurts from you being all hot and perfect and stupidly romantic, you think. “No,” you say. “I’m just fine.”

    He pulls out of you, carefully, and it does nothing but reignite a spark of arousal within you. Then he collapses onto the bed beside you with an unmistakable dad noise, and takes off the spent condom, tying it off and tossing it into the rubbish bin beside his bed. When that’s done, he wastes no time in rolling onto his side and pulling you in for a kiss. You hum happily, shifting closer to him, not even caring about the sweat and how wet you are all over your inner thighs.

    When he breaks away, he says, “So. How do you feel?”

    “Like I just had the biggest orgasm of my life,” you say.

    Roger chuckles. “I meant now that you’re, y’know…”

    It clicks. “Now I’ve lost my virginity?” you say playfully. “Had my sexual debut? I’ve become a woman?”

    “Not that any of it matters, of course,” Roger adds. “But it’s still… It can be a big thing.”

    You give him a soft kiss. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” you say. “Virginity is nothing but a social construct and all of that.”

    “Of course,” Roger reiterates.

    “But I feel… happy.” You hope your grin isn’t as cheesy as it feels. “It’s nice to not have to… worry about it anymore, I suppose? I don’t know if I was really worrying about it before, but it… I don’t know.” You shrug. “I just had a really good time. That’s all that matters.”

    “Good.” Roger’s hand goes to your hip, squeezing it. “I’m glad.”

    “Did…” You lick your lips. “Did you have a good time?”

    “Did I have a good time?” Roger repeats, almost aghast. “Are you joking?”

    “Even though I had no idea what I was doing?”

    “You’re a natural.”

    You laugh. Your stomach squirms – both because of those ridiculous maybe-almost-could-be feelings, and because, even though you know in your mind that the whole sex part of the evening is over, your body certainly isn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

    Your thighs clench together, but you do your best to hide how it feels. You don’t want to be greedy.

    Roger feels your thighs move under his hand, though, and he looks to you questioningly. “Are you still–”

    “No, no, I’m fine,” you say lightly, shaking your head. “I was just moving around.”

    Roger pauses, and then says, “All right.” He kisses you, and then takes a moment to gather his energy before he sits up. “I’ll get us some water.” He turns to you, pointing a finger at you, as if something just occurred to him. “You should go pee.”

    Your eyes widen, and you nod. “Oh, yes, good thinking.”

    “Bathroom’s just there,” he says, gesturing across the room at the closed door.

    “You have an en suite?”

    “Well, yeah. Much easier when there’s kids around.” His face falls a little. “Not that I’ve had the kids here very often recently, but uh…”

    “I’m sorry,” you say.

    He shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s fine. Great way to bring down the mood, eh?” He leans down again to kiss you, and then stands up, stretching. “Be back in a mo’.”

    You watch him, your gaze hawk-like, as he pulls on his neon-green underwear and disappears out the door, raking his hand through his hair as he goes.

    Your thighs clench together again, and you whimper.

    You try to push it aside, and slide off the bed to go the bathroom, pulling on your underwear as you go. You don’t exactly feel like putting your push-up bra back on, but you don’t want to just lounge around completely naked. Would it be too presumptuous to put on Roger’s shirt?

    You bite your lip, considering, and then decide to just bite the bullet, slipping it on and buttoning it up. It’s comfy, and smells like him; you understand why women in movies do it now. You do have to call bullshit on wearing a man’s shirt like a short, cute dress though – it’s more just like a long shirt, and you’re glad you’ve chosen to put on underwear.

    It feels odd to pee in a stranger’s house – even odder that it’s an en suite – but you’re thankful that you get a moment to properly gather yourself in private, instead of while being surrounded by the smell of sex.

    It’s when you’re washing your hands that you finally get a look at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth drops open in horror.

    You look like a fucking mess. Your foundation is patchy where you get oily and where you’ve sweated it off, and there’s a slight ring of smudged mascara under your eyes – honestly, you’re thankful that it’s not worse, and that your setting spray did at least something. Your hair, though, is the worst of it all. You look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.

    “Oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. What can you do? You don’t have any make-up with you to try to fix the problems, but you can’t exactly take it off, either. You have no way to fix your hair. You untie it from the ponytail it was in and try to smooth it out, but it doesn’t really do much, so you tie it back up again, but it’s a shitty ponytail, so you untie it and try again. Then you try a third time, and give up, settling on the disaster that it is, and grab a tissue, blotting at your make-up.

    You sigh, staring at your reflection. Well, fuck. What the fuck are you meant to do? How the hell can you go back into the bedroom, knowing you look like this?

    “[Y/N]?” Roger calls. “You all right in there, love?”

    You shiver. God, the way he says the word ‘love’. The way he says your name.

    You clear your throat. “Um, yeah, I’m– I’m fine. Just…” You can’t say you’re still peeing. Oh, fuck, what if he thinks you’re taking a shit or something? “I’m just fixing up my make-up.”

    “I think there might still be some make-up wipes in a drawer somewhere, if you want to have a look,” Roger says. “Maybe they’re no good anymore, I’m not sure.”

    You have a dig around, and find a packet. It’s already been opened, quite a while ago by the looks of it. Must be Roger’s ex-wife’s.

    The thought of that sits weirdly with you, but you’re not quite sure why. Almost like you feel like you’re intruding, maybe. You certainly don’t feel like you belong here, in this bougie, nice house.

    You sigh again, and pull out a handful of make-up wipes, seeing if there’s any that still hold any moisture. One in the middle has a little bit, so you carefully run it under your eyes, and lightly tap it over your forehead and down your neck to soothe your skin, fixing up any problem areas as best you can without it being too obvious that you’ve just wiped off the make-up.

    The end result is fine. Not good, and certainly not great, but… yeah. Fine.

    You throw the make-up wipes into the bin, take a deep breath, and exit the bathroom.

    Roger’s on his phone, and he looks up when he hears the door open. His face goes slack when he sees you. “You’re wearing my shirt?”

    “Isn’t that what girls are meant to do after sex?” you joke.

    “I just haven’t seen, um, anyone do that in… in a long time,” he says, somewhat stilted, and he glances down at his hands. He quickly turns his eyes back to you. “It looks good. Really good.”

    “Thank you,” you say, and pad over to the bedside table near him, where he has two glasses of water waiting. “Which one’s mine?”

    “On the left.” Roger sets his phone down and watches you as you take a sip of water.

    He’s close to you, and, like before you kissed for the first time, you’re hyperaware of every movement. But he barely moves, just waits for you.

    When you put the water down, you hesitate. You want to climb on top of him, kiss him, feeling his arms around you again, but is that too much? Does he want you to go? Are you overstaying your welcome?

    “You all right?” he asks gently.

    You nod. “Um, yeah,” you say, and take a step back. “You probably, um, have work or something tomorrow, so I should go.”

    You don’t miss the way Roger’s face falls a bit. “Oh, you want to go?”

    No. “Well, it– I don’t want to impose…”

    “If you want to go, then I’ll order an Uber for you,” Roger says. “But don’t feel like you have to go if you don’t want to.”

    The Amazonian butterflies are back yet again. “I…”

    “Because – and correct me if I’m wrong,” Roger says, reaching out and tugging on his shirt, pulling you closer, and you go without any resistance, “but I think you were telling a bit of a fib before, when you said you were… what did you say? Just moving around?”

    You press your lips together as Roger guides you between his legs, and he tilts his head back to gaze up at you. He smiles at the look on your face. “Am I right?”

    You can feel your face heating up again. “No,” you mumble unconvincingly, hiding your smile behind your hand.

    “No hands over mouths,” Roger murmurs, reaching up and taking yours. “You don’t have to hide.”

    Fuck. Oh, fuck. His voice sounds like a warm fireplace feels, and you barely even know him, but you’ve never felt safer, more comfortable, around a man. You can’t pretend now – you’re really starting to like him.

    Roger raises his eyebrows at you, just a touch, searching your face. “So? Am I right?”

    “It’s fine,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m fine, really. You’ve done plenty, I… I can’t ask for more.”

    Roger hums, and presses a kiss to your palm before letting your hand go. “All right, okay,” he says. “I was wrong, I see. Can I at least tell you what I’d do to you if I had been right?”

    You breathe in shakily, and nod once.

    The corner of Roger’s mouth quirks up. “Well,” he says slowly, “first I’d kiss you, of course. And, as hot as you look wearing nothing but my shirt and your knickers, I’d undress you again. Get you lying down on your back, all spread out for me. I’d kiss you some more. Then I think I’d choke you, because you seem to like that a lot, yeah?”

    You nod, hypnotised.

    Roger nods as well. “Right. And then, while I was holding you down by your throat–”

    You gulp.

    “–I’d get my other hand, and I’d–”

    “Okay, yes, you were right,” you blurt out, and grab his face, ducking down to kiss him desperately. He kisses you with just as much hunger, and nudges you a few steps back, giving him enough room so he can stand up and start unbuttoning the shirt. As soon as he’s done, your shrug it from your shoulders, and Roger pulls you closer by your ass. One hand moves to cup your jaw, his tongue pressing against yours. It doesn’t take long before the hand shifts to your throat, and you whimper softly, urging him to tighten his grip.

    He does, and the feeling of it goes straight to your core. Your hands clutch at him frantically.

    He lets go of your throat, and you suck in a gasp, then latch onto his neck, kissing and nipping and sucking at his skin, licking off the salty traces of sweat.

    “Careful, love, careful,” he says shakily. “I can’t turn up to work looking like I’ve been attacked by a vacuum.”

    You huff, but soften your kisses. He moans under his breath, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything hotter.

    Soon, you break away, and crawl back onto the bed, and he follows you, positioning himself on all fours above you to kiss you deeply, his knee slotting into between your thighs. He presses it against your core, and you instinctively grind against it, shuddering when it fires an electric shock of arousal through your system. Roger shifts, readjusting his balance so he can bring his hand back to your throat, and you welcome it. You grind against his leg again.

    It’s when you have to stop kissing him, your brain going into overdrive trying to force you to focus on breathing, you have to breathe, that Roger sits back, moving his leg out of the way and replacing it with his other hand.

    “Fuck, Roger,” you gasp, twitching under his grip, your hands vice-like on his forearm. Your eyes slide closed, revelling in the way your head swims, the way your body fights to suck as much oxygen as it can into your lungs. You’re still so wet from before, still so stretched out, that Roger slides two fingers into you at the same time with ease, and you let out a stuttering moan, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers swirl around your clit, hitting it in just the right way, and within minutes you’re almost there.

    “Most people think the best part about getting choked is the actual ‘getting choked’ part,” Roger says out of the blue, and you frown, trying to follow, opening your eyes.

    “Hear me out,” Roger says casually, pushing his fingers back into you and flicking your clit with his thumb, and you whine. “Are you close, love?”

    You nod.

    Roger hums. “You look so good like this. Does it feel good?”

    You nod again. “Mm-hm.”

    “Yeah, looks like it does. Looks like you enjoy it.”

    “Ah, Roger, please.”

    “It’s all right, love, I’ve got you.” Roger’s fingers quicken their pace, and you make a sound, squirming.

    “As I was saying,” Roger continues, “people think the best part of getting choked is actually getting choked. But it’s not. The best part of it is actually being let go. Do you want to see?”

    You nod, barely even listening to what he’s saying. You’re too close to coming to pay attention.

    And then Roger lets go of your throat at the same time he brushes your clit, and a rush of oxygen flows into your lungs, a rush of blood flows back to your head, and your orgasm slams into you, and the world seems so much brighter in that moment. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you gasp, your back arching, your eyes wide.

    It feels like it goes on for a lifetime, although perhaps that’s just your mind trying to sort itself out. When you do finally start to come down from your high, you realise you’re shaking, and Roger is grinning at you. You blink at him owlishly.

    “Wh– Huh?” you breathe, your heart racing, and Roger laughs.

    “So you’re alive, then,” he teases, and leans down to kiss you.

    You grab onto him, kissing him soundly, and roll the both of you over, so you’re straddling him. You just stay like that, just making out, letting the frenzied kisses lull themselves into something slower, something calmer. Just kissing for the sake of it. Roger’s hands stroke up and down your back, and you could almost fall asleep like this.

    Speaking of falling asleep – you have to break away, hiding your yawn by tucking your face into his chest. Roger hums, and you can feel it vibrating against your body. You smile. “Sorry,” you mumble.

    “Can hardly blame you,” Roger says, his voice low. “It’s late.”

    You let yourself slump against him, a moment of pure self-indulgence, and then roll to the side, dumping yourself onto the bed. You groan, unable to stop yourself from instinctively shifting into a more comfortable position for sleeping, your arm beneath your head like a pillow, your eyes closing.

    “I’m sorry,” you say again, muffled by your arm. “I’ll leave in a minute.”

    Roger says nothing, and you feel your stomach coil in guilt. God, he wanted you to leave fifteen minutes ago, didn’t he? He was just too polite to say anything. And then you pressured him into making you come again, because you were too selfish to know when enough was enough. Great, fucking great, you’ve fucked it all up, and you’re a huge piece of shit, and you–

    “Did you want to stay the night?” Roger asks tentatively.

    Your eyes fly open, and you shift up onto your elbow. “What?” you say. “Stay?”

    Roger glances away from you. “It– It was just a suggestion,” he says. “Just an idea, I don’t know. I, um – it’s just late, and I don’t want you travelling all that way on your own. You can, obviously, if you want to, that’s up to you, I just…”

    You’re hardly even listening. You’re still struggling to drink in the first thing he said. “You want me to stay?” you ask.

    Roger looks to you, and bites his bottom lip. “If– Well, if you want to, then, um, yes, I’d like you to. But only if you want to.”

    You beam, and your heart triples in size. “Um, yes. I’d like to.”

    Roger smiles back. “Good. Great. That’s–” He clears his throat. “Did you want to have a shower?”

    “I think so,” you say with a laugh. “I’m…” You went to say I’m so disgusting right now, but you don’t want to fuck up your now-sleepover before it’s even properly begun. “Yes please.”

    “Well, you know where the bathroom is,” Roger says, nodding towards the en suite. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer, if I remember correctly. I’ll get you a towel.”

    “You’re not coming into the shower with me?” you ask coyly.

    Roger blinks, and you laugh.

    “Oh,” he says. “You were joking.”

    “I wasn’t,” you say. “You just made me laugh.”

    Roger swoops down to steal a kiss, and you don’t let him leave, pushing up into him, stealing a few kisses back.

    “Let me get you a towel,” he says, and then climbs off the bed and pads out of the room.

    You bite on your finger to stop yourself from making some stupid giggle, or maybe a dumb squealing sound like a little girl. He asked you to stay the night. He wants you to stay the night.

    Oh, shit, you realise, your finger dropping from your mouth. Justine. You never told her what was happening.

    Where’s your phone? In the living room. Spitting out a curse, you pull on your underwear and Roger’s shirt again, and hurry out. You run into Roger, arms full of sheets, in the hallway. “Hey, is everything all right?” he says. “What did you forget?”

    “I never told my roommate I wasn’t coming home,” you say. “Last she heard, I was about to book an Uber.”

    Roger’s eyes go a little wider. “Shit, whoops. Yeah, go tell her.”

    You shoot him a smile, and scurry off to the living room. Your phone is on the couch, and you snatch it up. Wow, shit, it is late. You’re glad you only have an afternoon lecture tomorrow.

    Thankfully, just one message from Justine, from about half an hour ago. hey, haven’t heard from u in a while. just send me a message when u get this ok? xx

    You respond. fuck sorry, left my phone in the other room. I have SO MUCH to tell u omg, but in a nutshell uhh we ended up sleeping together, it was fucking amazing, and now he’s asked me to stay over, so ill see u at uni tomorrow maybe? if not then at home xx

    You keep your phone in hand, and head back to Roger’s room. He’s started cleaning up in the minute you were gone, stripping the bed. Fresh sheets sit on the floor. “What’s this?” you ask.

    “I’m making the bed,” Roger says simply, tugging a pillow from its case. “I’m too old to be sleeping on sheets I’ve just had sex on. Let me tell you, it makes a difference. And the sheets were due for a change, anyway.”

    You step forward. “Well, let me help.”

    “Don’t be silly, jump in the shower.”

    “Don’t tell me what to do.” You set your phone down beside his on the bedside table, and together the two of you help remake his bed.

    Roger chases you into the shower then, and says he’s going to tidy up the room a little more before he joins you. “I’m on a roll now,” he says, picking up your shoes from where you kicked them aside during the bed-making. “Can’t stop, won’t stop.”

    You take the make-up wipes. The door is about halfway open, and you can hear Roger moving around, hear when he trips over something and hisses out a curse, making you smile.

    The make-up wipe freezes in the air near your eye. You can’t very well have a shower and go to bed without taking your make-up off – it does not make even a vague semblance of a pretty picture – but this is… way more intimate than you were expecting. Why didn’t you think of this when you agreed to stay over? Roger’s going to see you without your make-up on, with your hair tied up in a bun. He’s going to see you in the morning, all bleary-eyed and disgusting. Fuck, morning breath. You have the spare clothes you brought that you can change into tomorrow, but no extra underwear. Nothing to wear tonight. It’s a miracle that Roger even has a spare toothbrush. What time does he get up for work? Will he expect you to leave before he wakes up?

    Are you a one-night-stand? Is that what this is? Are you asked to stay the night if you’re nothing but a one-night-stand, or does the fact that he asked you mean something else?

    “Is your roommate all right?” Roger asks, coming to the door, leaning against the doorjamb. “No freak-outs?”

    You lower the make-up wipe. “Um, no. It’s all fine, I think.”

    “Have you found the toothbrush?”

    “No, I haven’t checked yet.”

    Roger moves around you, pulling open the drawer and rummaging through. “Ah, here it is. Still in the packet! How good am I?”

    You smile as he presents it to you like it’s a medal of honour. “Thanks.”

    “Sorry about the make-up wipes,” Roger says. “They’re not great.” He huffs, and then leans against the edge of the sink, rubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m… I’m actually really nervous.”

    Your eyebrows shoot up. “Nervous?” you repeat. “About what?”

    “About… you staying over,” he confesses. “It’s been, I don’t know, ten years since I’ve had anyone new sleep over. My brain is suddenly filled with every annoying thing I do when I sleep. And I look awful in the mornings, let me tell you. If you think I look bad now, just you wait.”

    “Who says I think you look bad now?” you say. “I thought I made it perfectly clear that I think you’re a hot piece of ass, Roger.”

    Roger splutters, flustered, and you grin.

    “I move around a lot,” he says. “When I sleep. So be prepared to cop an elbow to the face.”

    “Don’t you worry, I’m a heavy sleeper,” you say. “And I move around, too.”

    “I run hot,” Roger adds. “I’m like a space heater. And sometimes I talk in my sleep, but only when I’m really stressed about something, like work. I can be really very clingy.”

    “I run cold,” you say with a shrug. “So clingy suits me fine.”

    Roger pauses, staring at you, like he wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Then he snaps out of it, glancing away. “Sorry,” he says for a third time.

    “Don’t apologise,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t have to. I’m nervous, too. Like, really fucking nervous. I’m– I’m too nervous to even take my make-up off.”

    Roger’s eyes search your face. “I won’t care what you look like,” he says gently. “I’m sorry that you feel nervous about taking it off. But it won’t matter, I promise.”

    “Just wait and see,” you joke in a sing-song voice.

    Roger is silent for a few moments, and then he says, “Well, I hope you’re ready. I’m going to kiss the bloody daylight out of you when you take it off.”

    You don’t know how to respond. “You don’t have to do that.”

    “I’m going to. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable without make-up on. And if that means I have to keep kissing you all night as a reminder that it doesn’t matter what you look like without make-up, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

    You duck your head, making a disgruntled sound. Why does he have to say cute shit like that? Why must he make you suffer?

    Roger pushes the packet of make-up wipes a little closer to you, waggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle, and then reaches across you for his toothbrush.

    You start wiping off your make-up.

    Roger waits until you’ve finished taking it off, until you’ve brushed your teeth, until you’re well and truly left without anything to do, and then he cups your face in his hands and does exactly what he promised he’d do.

    One steamy make-out session and one far-too-long shower later, you’re sitting on the newly-made bed, wrapping in a towel, the strands of hair that slipped loose from your bun sticking to your neck and temples. You’re watching Roger pull on a pair of underwear and rifle through his chest of drawers. He pulls out a huge shirt, clearly worn and well-loved, and turns to you, holding it out. “I went on a day trip once to Brighton,” he says. “We were out to a pub and I spilled red wine all over my shirt. Had to buy a new one. Sent one of my mates to get it for me and he came back with this. Hence why I have a shirt about five sizes too big for me.”

    “You didn’t have to explain,” you say with a chuckle, taking it from him.

    “I feel like I did,” Roger says. “I, um, usually use it as a sleep shirt when I travel.”

    You slip it on, and then stand up, letting your towel drop to the floor. The shirt is long enough to cover everything, but you’re not about to bend down any time soon.

    You glance over at your underwear, where they’re in a pile near the door. Should you put them back on?

    “Please don’t,” Roger blurts.

    You look to him. “Huh?”

    His face goes red. “Um. I just– I– You– I saw you look over there, and–” He rubs his hand along his jaw. “I, um…” He looks to the ceiling, and says it in a rush. “I’m sorry this sounds awful but I saw you looking over at your knickers and I don’t want you to put them on because you look really hot wearing my shirt and the thought of you wearing nothing underneath makes my brain explode.”

    “You’re one to talk,” you say, “standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of boxers like that doesn’t make my brain explode.”

    Roger’s eyes flick towards yours, and he breaks out into a smile, and then laughs. “I guess we’re even, then.”

    “We’ll be truly even when I see you wearing my clothes,” you say teasingly.

    Roger steps in close, his hands coming to your waist. “I don’t think your dress would fit properly, love.”

    “I’ll have to come better prepared next time,” you say, and Roger hums, leaning in to give you a kiss.

    Next time. Next time. You said ‘next time’. Talk about presumptuous. Christ! What is wrong with you?

    You break away. “Not that I think there’ll be a next time,” you say quickly. No. Bad phrasing. “I don’t want to assume there’ll be a next time.” Still bad. “I don’t want you to think that I think there has to be a next time.” Even worse. “I don’t want you to feel obliged to have a next time if you don’t want there to be.” Better. Not great, but passable.

    “I want a next time,” Roger says. “If you want one.”

    “I do,” you say, God, far too eager. “I’d really like there to be a next time.”

    “Me too,” Roger says.

    You press into him for another kiss, and then, finally, the two of you make it to bed.

    Once you’re under the covers, you almost fall asleep immediately. You didn’t realise how exhausted you are. Roger reaches over and switches off the light, and then wraps an arm around your stomach, his front against your spine. You allow yourself to smile freely in the dark, even as your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.

                                                      ~~~

    “I’m… I’m going to send you the rest of the payment,” Roger says. He’s dressed for work, just in a white dress shirt and black slacks, and you’d been admiring him and enjoying the coffee he’d made you after you’d gotten out of the shower. It’s early – too early, for both of you.

    But now your stomach drops, and you lower your mug of coffee from your lips. “You are?”

    “Yes,” Roger says.

    “You don’t have to,” you say. “I said it last night, I don’t care about the money.”

    “I know,” Roger says. “But it’s still right. You started this whole thing to help pay the bills, and it’s not your fault that there was that whole mix-up. You don’t deserve to miss out on getting the money you’ve rightfully earned.”

    “You don’t deserve to fork out that much money because of that whole mix-up,” you say. “You’ve already paid half of it. And it’s– it’s quite a fair bit, Roger.”

    “I can afford to pay it,” Roger says. “I’m living more than comfortably. Giving you the money you’ve earned would just mean that I can’t, I don’t know, travel overseas this year.” He raises his eyebrows a touch. “Well, now that I might not have to be paying for three kids as well, maybe I’ll still be able to afford to go.” He shakes his head. “That’s beside the… My point is, I can afford it. And you deserve it.”

    You don’t know what to say. “Roger…”

    “Just let me,” he says earnestly. “Please. I want to.”

    You open and close your mouth a few times. God, you’d be mad to turn down the money. But it doesn’t feel right. Does it? You don’t even know what to think.

    You glance down at your mug. “All right,” you say quietly, so much so that you’re not even sure if he can hear you. But you can’t bring yourself to speak any louder. “Thank you, Roger.”

    “Hey.”

    You look up at him, and he smiles. “You can pay me back by letting me take you out to dinner.”

    Your face immediately grows hot. “Suave motherfucker,” you say, and he laughs.

    “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he says playfully.

    Your stomach squeezes. “Sure,” you say. “But I’m paying.”

    Roger snorts. “Not bloody likely.”

    “I’ll fight you for the cheque, don’t think I won’t.”

    “Maybe I’ll just sneakily pay for it before you’ve even realised.”

    You narrow your eyes at him. “Can we settle on going Dutch?”

    Roger sips his coffee. “All right,” he says eventually.

    “Good.”

    He takes out his phone, holding it out to you. “Text me some time during this week,” he says. “About where you want to go. Or just text me if you want to say hi. Or call me. Y’know, whatever.”

    You tilt your head to the side as you take his phone. “That wasn’t quite as suave, I have admit.”

    Roger sighs. “Damn.”

    You laugh, and send a quick text to yourself, then slide the phone back to him.

    He seems extremely pleased, but he takes a casual drink from his coffee like he’s trying to hide it, and you can’t help but think it’s horribly cute.

    He shoots a glance at you, and sees you grinning at him, and his cheeks turn pink, and he clears his throat, turning away to the sink to rinse his mug out.

                                                      ~~~

    You’re at uni, half-asleep, shuffling back to the bus stop after your never-ending lecture, when Justine barrels into you, grabbing your elbow so tightly that you yelp. “What the fuck happened last night?” she exclaims.

    You don’t know why it hadn’t been awkward this morning. Apart from the money conversation. There had still been some nervousness, on your part anyway, but Roger had been too focused on getting ready for work to let any uncomfortable silences hang. You have to admit that it had been nice to wake up with someone’s arm around you, and you had been quietly delighted to see Roger fussing over the faint bruises on his neck, pulling up his shirt collar and adjusting his tie to try to cover them. After you’d both gotten ready for the day, he’d dropped you at the nearest bus stop. “And I will text you,” he’d said seriously. “Don’t think I won’t.”

    “Good,” you’d said. “I’ll be waiting for it. Three days is the general rule, right?”

    Roger had groaned. “Don’t make me wait three days.”

    You had chuckled. “I’m not making you do anything.” You’d hesitated, and then said, “Is it weird if I kiss you before I go?”

    Roger had taken a breath. “I… wouldn’t say so, no.”

    So you’d leant in and kissed him, and he’d kissed you back, and you’d wanted to keep kissing him, but a car had pulled up behind you and honked, so you’d drawn back, whispered, “Bye,” and gotten out of the car.

    Once you’d figured out how to get home, you’d crashed, sleeping until your alarm had woken you up again for your lecture.

    “Stuff,” you say to Justine.

    “Stuff?” Justine squawks. “Don’t give me that shit. You have to tell me literally everything, or I’m going to kill you. Come on.” She loops her arm through yours, and starts towing you towards the bus stop.

    Your phone buzzes, and you pull it out of your pocket.

    I know it hasn’t been three days, but it’s been more than three hours. Is that enough time, do you think?

    You smile, reply, I think so, yeah, then quickly pocket the phone before Justine can sneak a glance as Amazonian butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ Chapter Eleven.

CSorry, this feels really lame but I tried my best, then I was about to upload it when tumblr went down.

Here’s chapter Eleven though! enjoy <3 

Again, let me know if you want to be tagged.

Warnings: Swearing.

tags: @i-am-sarah​ , @whothefuckstolemykeds​ , @drowsyrrog​ , @culturefiendtrashqueen​ , @rogue-barnes-16--main-account​–main-account , @alliwantfromyouistomakelovetome, @valerie-weasley​ , @sueeatstheworld​ , @bleona2808​ , @pippin248​ , @myfatbottomedgirls​ , @httpfandxms​ , @cooliosmosh​ , @speckles-s​ , @walking-disgrace​ , @itsmeaudrieee​ , @fight-the-freaking-fairies​ , @irrelevant-pumpkin​ , @captain-sparkles-who​ , @podcasts-8-my-heart , @foulvintagenature​ , @imjustboredso​ , @loophoria​

___________________________________________________________

“So Billy eh, I mean it’s cute but it’s a little common.”

We were driving through a forest, Four in the driving seat with Five in the passenger seat. I was sat in the back in the middle, leaning against the seat with my tinted blue sunglasses on.

Four just scoffed.

“Well we can’t all be like you, miss my names unique.”

Five turned in her seat to smirk at me.

I looked from Five to the rear view mirror to find Four staring at me, I just smiled and raised my eyebrows. “Well I didn’t have a choice in picking it did I?”

“Well Neither did I with mine, sweetheart.”

I leaned forward, putting my hands on his shoulders. I was essentially back hugging his seat.

I leaned into his ear and whispered. “I love when you call me that.”

He peered over his shoulder at me as I sunk back, biting my lip.

He just shifted uncomfortably in his seat, double taking at Five who gave him a shocked but stern look.

“Hey you don’t have to tell me. She’s the one riling me up!” Billy defended.

“Let’s just get this over and done with, no distractions please Zero.” She looked at me pointedly.

“Sure.” I said with a smirk, catching Billy’s eye in the mirror again.

We got to the location about an hour later, parking 30 minutes out as to not cause suspicion.

We kept low in the brush when we finally reached the communications disc on top of Turgistan Mountains.

Guards where just at the top of the base but that wouldn’t be a problem.

“Hey, you afraid?” Five said breathlessly as Four got the wire cutters out of the bag.

He just looked at her with an unreadable expression and cut the chain. She looked to me, I just sighed giving her my best smile.

I managed to hack the cameras getting the screens up while also being in a position where I could keep an eye on the guards. Four had already started his acsent up the big disc.

In and out with no disasters, just how I like it.

On the way back Five decided to get in the back seat while I was packing the gear in the trunk.

Which meant was was sitting shotgun, about 10 minutes into our journey back she’d fallen asleep.

Four coughed shuffling in his seat. “You okay?” He grabbed my hand from my lap with his free hand.

“I’m fine, what about you.” He interlocked our fingers and rested them back on my lap.

“Am good just a little nervous. Listen about us? What are we.”

I stared at him. Why was he doing this now.

“I like you Billy.” I laughed. “Dam I’ve liked you from the first insult you threw at me.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Crazy I know.”

Now was his turn to chuckle. “But?”

“I think we should finish what we started here first.” I raised our hands so I could lean my chin on them. “We never know how a mission is going to go, we’re nearly there though.”

I kissed his knuckles and he just sadly smiled at me.

“I guess you’re right. But as soon as this is over and we both come out of it alive. Which we will! I’m taking you on the best date you’ve ever been on. And if you’re lucky at the end.” He leaned in to me trying to be all seductive.

“I’ll give you that decking you’ve been asking for.”

I let go of his hand scoffing. “You’re such a cocky little shit.”

He just give me puppy dog eyes, to which I rolled mine and interlocked our hands together again.

“Happy now?”

He just deeply hummed at me and kissed my cheek.

I smiled at him, deciding I too would nap. We had along way to go.

Finally the day of the dead came, I just hope all the preparations where going to be worth it.

“And this is yours.” I looked up from where I was sitting to see Two holding up a very expensive looking green velvet dress.

“Oh shit, it’s gorgeous.”

“Fours going to die when he see’s you.”

“I think everyone will be too focused on the mission to care what’s on my body.” She just shrugged in agreement then left to get changed herself.

I just looked at the dress, sighing before changing and doing a natural but darker makeup.

Our first job was to accompany the same man, one woman on each arm. I stayed quiet while I examined the scene and let Two do the wooing.

He pulled me in by my waist, it took all the strength in me to not show how uncomfortable it was. I just started a conversation about how beautiful the boat was.

Hoping to god the guys would get here fast so we could get this show on the road. Luckily Two was here with me.

Suddenly a load explosion came from across the water, everyone stood shocked while me and Two just looked at each other. A faint smirk came across her features.

Everyone started running in a panic, we just stayed where we were. Calmly we made our way deeper into the boat.

We finally made it into the control room, as Two delt with the guard I started messing with the controls.

“Side doors open.” I mumbled flicking the final switch. God I hope Billy gets on board safely.

“Coms cut, we’re good.” I let out a sigh of relief at his voice coming through my ears.

We climbed back up going to meet the rest of the team, when Two opened the door she was met with a gun in her face curtesy of Seven.

“Bonjour.”

A round of heys and we were back on track.

“Hey Papi, don’t you ladies look nice.” Three came hobbling out of another door, winking at us.

I just stood there awkwardly while One and Three started having a little tiff.

“Children please, god and you have a go at me and Four for starting things.”

“Because that’s awkward.”

“What and this childish bickering isn’t?”

“I hate that she gets sassy and more sarcastic everyday.” Three groaned.

“Yeah I wonder where she learns it from.” One looked between Two and Three.

Two just raised her hands in a ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ position.

One stormed away.

I pointed between Two and Three. “Best adopted parents ever.”

We all followed One out.

Following Two again we made our way to the kitchen area, champagne glasses in hand this was where the acting classes would kick in.

Putting on our best drunken ‘am a lost guest’ act, I surveyed the area and found the back door to Rovach’s suite, radioing the information to the others.

I looked around to make sure the space was clear enough before I learnt against the wood, Two was about to take the men down that were surrounding Three and honestly I was excited for the show.

I’d heard and see little bits of how amazingly skilled this woman was, obviously watching now I was kind of wishing her skills were in something a little less violent.

She walked up to me to check I was okay.

“Why don’t I have a gun? I think I need a gun.”

They both just started laughing at me.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Am not giving you a gun Princess, I know you’re probably fully capable. But! I’m definitely not giving you a firearm until we’ve fully tested you back at base.” Three lectured me.

“So how exactly am I supposed to protect myself?”

Three looked around and found a metal pole from god knows where. “Here, use this.”

I just stared at him, mouth open. “What. Am I the all powerful Rey now?”

“Hey don’t mock Rey! She’s amazing in Star Wars, plus she really knows what she’s doing with that stick.”

I just tilted my head and squinted at The tall dark dumb idiot.

“Enough with the movie references!” Two shouted, dragging Three away.

“Guess it’s just you and me now.” I looked down at the metal pole and prayed for the best.

Chapter Twelve

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Hidden In Plain Site (2)- Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count:  2348

A/N: This was inspired by this wonderful post by @starsholland. Without it this would not be happening. This will be a multi part fic, but I don’t know how many chapters or when it will be posted so if you’d like to be tagged let me know:)  Welcome to Tom being undercover on Tumblr. Quick notes- Y/T/B = Your Tumblr Blog

Chapter One || Master List

The edit turned out better than you thought it would. You had decided to use blue and red, since they’re Spider-Man colors and it honestly suits Tom and Haz so well. You still are wondering when the picture is from since you scoured the depths of Google and Tumblr to no avail. It’s either really old, or not really posted. Either way it made an adorable edit and will look great in your edit’s tag. It’s also sparked some ideas for a friendship imagine. It’s been so long since you wrote anything, with work and family stuff weighing you down, but you can picture the outline in your head so as soon as you finish the last touches on your outline, you click open a new document and drop a few lines down to get going. 

“What you working on?” Your brother calls to you from across the living room. He knows that once you’re home for the afternoon, it’s not normally work stuff, but sometimes your graphic design projects run into your post work day.

“Just some edits. Nothing too big.”

“Bringing work home?”

“Nope, just working on some extra stuff.” You type some more into the document, wanting to make sure that everything is hitting the moment right. In your browser, you pull up your tumblr and make a new post.

Ask me stuff while I work on my latest imagine. Give me a number 1-100 and I’ll give you a song from my writing playlist and a memory attached to it.

Across the ocean, Tom can’t sleep. It’s nearly 3am, but something is keeping his mind from sleeping. He should be able to sleep just fine. He isn’t working on any movies that have him worried, he doesn’t have any auditions coming up, and he doesn’t have press for a few weeks. So why can’t he get to sleep?

Lifting his phone in his hand he sees a notification from Tumblr saying that Y/T/B has posted. He swipes across and waits for the post to load. You want questions? Well, he can help with that. Plus, he’s interested in learning about what kind of music you’re interested in.

Anonymous Asked:

33?

Anonymous Asked:

86?

Anonymous Asked: 

69;D

Three Anons come in right after another. You weren’t expecting that quick of a reaction. Sure you had a couple hundred followers, but you didn’t tend to get that many reactions to your posts. At least not back to back. But you’ll take it, and reply. As soon as you send the edit to that blog that asked for it.

You pull up the thread between you and tomholland2013. You click the camera button and upload the edit you had done. 

Hey, here’s that edit. Hope this works for you! 

Surprisingly, whoever is behind the account messages back immediately.

That looks awesome! Thanks so muchX

Hows your night going?X

More like afternoon here lol. I’m just getting some work done after getting home earlier.

How about you? Is it night there?

It’s like the middle of the night here and I can’t sleepX

If it’s middle of the night there, did you see the news? 

What news?X

That Tom saved Spider-Man?! It’s been all over Tumblr since I got home from work.

It’s kind of the reason I made your edit in red and blue tbh.

I hadn’t had time to look at my dashboard to be honest. I’ve been busy with work stuff most of the afternoon.X

It wasn’t a lie. Over the past few days having talks between him, Bob and Tom trying to smooth everything over, there wasn’t much time to glance over the explosion that had happened since the original news had been released. But after clicking send on his message to Y/N, he clicks over to your main blog to see the reaction to the news. There are some general reblogs of the news announcing Spider-Man returning to the MCU but then there were also some general posts about Spider-Man and Peter Parker. Your tags are what really get to him. Some like hashtag my-baby-is-back-where-he-belongs and hashtag get-tom-drunk-more-often-if-it-saves-my-baby. He can’t help but laugh at the last one. True he hadn’t exactly been sober when he and Bob had first talked about getting Spider-Man back in the MCU, but he didn’t think that story would take the world by storm.

Going into his settings, Tom quickly updates his picture with the edit you had done for him. Honestly, it looked better than he had hoped for. You had done Spider-Man colors and if he wasn't trying to keep this blog on the down low, he would share it on his Instagram so his fans could see how talented Y/N was. As he hits save, another message comes through from you.

Do you mind if I use the edit I sent you as inspiration for an imagine?

A what?X

An imagine. It’s a specific type of fanfic. I had a great idea of one while I was working on the edit for you, but if you’re not cool with it, I’ll find a different picture.

You did all the work on it. Feel free to use it. What kind of story?X

Basically like a Tom x Reader with hints of Harrison friendship notes in it. It’s hard to explain lol

Have you written other stuff?X

I think everyone on this site dabbles in it from time to time, but yeah I’ve written a few pieces over the past few years.

Do you have a list of them?X

Sure, it’s here.

You had linked a page in your message. Apparently dabbling meant one.. Two.. three… his finger drags down the page as he counts the stories. Holy hell, you’ve written fifty stories about him, Peter Parker and even some of the other Avengers. But most of them revolve around him and x Reader, whatever that means. You had mentioned it in your message, but he wasn’t sure what it meant.

Ok, I’m new to the whole fanfic thing, so pardon my stupidity but what does x reader mean?X

It’s a self insert fic. Basically anywhere that it says Y/N or you, you put yourself into the fic. They’re one of the most popular types of fics.

Before he can reply to your message, a notification comes up saying that Y/T/B has posted a new post.

Anonymous Asked:

33?

Y/T/B/ Answered: Heather by Conan Gray. So I love this song and totally have screamed along with the chorus of this song when I’m alone at home and writing or in my car driving places (otherwise I would freak my family out). When I wrote a fic called The Smell of Your Sweater, on my master list here, I listened to this song on repeat for three days straight to be in the right mind set. Honestly I could probably listen to this song until the end of time and never get sick of it. 

Tom reads over the answer and can picture someone jamming out to a song so much that they love it. He pulls open his Spotify app and pulls up the song, because he wants to feel closer to you, even though you’re time zones apart from each other. The fact that it’s afternoon where you are and nighttime where he is makes him think that you’re in the United States.

So reader insert are some of the most popular type of fics, but what are your favorite to read?X

That’s not even something that I would share on a first date lol you’ll be waiting a bit to find out. 

Is sharing that you write fanfic something that you don’t talk about on a date?X

Not normally. Talking about it with tumblr friends is one thing because I link it on my blog, but what I read is a whole nother thing. It literally says so much about you with who you read, what ships you ship, and especially what kinks you look for.

KINKS? IN FANFICS?X

You haven’t read much yet have you?

Literally no. I’ve only been on tumblr since I messaged you the first time. That was the day I made my blogX

So you’ve been on for a month? And you’re deciding to get into fanfics?

No I’m thinking I should stay away from it still. It seems like virtual porn.X

It doesn’t have to have anything smutty in it. Just click on ones that say fluff or don’t say smut next to them. You can also block certain tags so they don’t come up on your dashboard. Like Starker is a popular one to be blocked for a lot of people.

I don’t think I even want to know what that is if people are blocking it who are into this porn esque writing. X

It’s not porn lol You seem to have only found smut so far. We need to find you some fluff. Maybe some Tom x Reader?

Maybe I’m just not ready for it after all.X

Does he want to read about himself? Not at all. That seems creepy. But other people write about him too. It’s not just Y/N. He decides to research this further. In the search bar he types in Tom Holland Fanfic. The first four post all say smut or NSFW so he’s not going to bother reading them, but the thing that catches his eye is the fact that they all have over 2,000 notes on them. Two thousand people have liked or reblogged about him in a sexual way? What the actual flipping hell?

Before he has the chance to flip out even more, another notification from your blog pops up.

Anonymous Asked:

86?

Y/T/B answered: Praying by Kesha. THIS WOMAN COULD MURDER ME AND I WOULD THANK HER FOR IT. Plus that chorus makes me want to write some epic breakup scene and have one of the people begging the other to feel the same as they are feeling. Oooooo maybe I feel a one shot coming up. Anyway, a memory of this song- my best friend and I blasted this song while we drove from California to Philly to visit a school. It literally got us through so many hours of that drive. Kesha is bae lets be real. Or is that not what the cool kids say? 

When he sent you these asks, he thought he would get one or two sentences in response, but he’s learning so much about you from all of these asks. Maybe he would send you some non song related ones, maybe some To- Peter Parker ones to see what else you liked. Purely science based research. 

If you’re not ready for it, don’t push yourself. Fanfics can be a weird mindset to put yourself in. I used them at first to distract myself from some shitty family stuff that was going on, but now I read and write them for fun too. I think I mainly read Avenger ones at first as well as some TV shows too. Plus would I be a teenage girl if I didn’t read a few Twilight fanfics back in my day? 

Twilight? Like Rob-Tom makes himself type out Rob and Kristen’s full names like a fan would-ert Pattinson and Kristen Stewert Twilight?X

That one exactly. I was the generation it was aimed for and so fanfics galore were my teen years. But I’m proud to say I’m a recovered Twihard.

Glad to hear it darlingX

What about you? What were you into as a kid?

I’ve always been a fan of Spider-Man, ever since I was a kid.X

Comics or movies?

Comics. They’re the originalsX

Which Spider-Man is the best? 

Is that a trick question? Obviously HollandX

Was that conceited? Maybe. But hopefully, Y/N doesn’t think so. Oh wait she has no idea-

It was a trick question. A trick question that you clearly got right. 

Another notification pops up and you suddenly remember the last number that you sent Y/N. Well hopefully the number doesn’t seem like you.

Anonymous Asked: 

69;D

Y/T/B Answered: Noice. 

But the actual answer is Bad Religion by Frank Ocean. This song got me through my last bout of depression lol. I remember sitting on the floor of my bedroom with the lights off and just playing this song on repeat. Always open about that here. It also gets me to channel some deep emotions into some pieces that I’m working on because it reminds me of being in that dark place. I also really like the beat of this though, like how it sounds like a mix of an electric piano and an organ. So if I ever name a one shot Bad Religion, it’s probably named after this song.

Tom feels like a weight is sinking in his gut. Almost like someone slammed an anchor into the lower part of his bowl. He didn’t mean to bring up something so dark with that number. He was hoping it would actually make her laugh. So guess he will send her one more number, but this one won’t be on anonymous.

Tomholland2013 asked: 36

Huh, he must have seen all the responses you posted. Between posting and replying to him, you hadn’t gotten much work on your imagine done, but you could post once more before jumping back to your word document. 

Tomholland2013 asked: 36

Y/B/N answered: The Night We Met by Lord Huron. I literally saw them in concert with my friends last month so a lot of the memories I have of them are about this. But I have a great fanfic idea for this song specifically. To not spoil it completely I’ll just leave you with three spoilers- first date, first dance, secrets spilled. It’s a work in progress.

Now it’s time to get off the internet and back to writing, or else you’re going to Tumblr your day away.

Taglist: @ serendipitous-amor @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​

[wifeofkimtaehyungofbts]

Chapter 7

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 1299

>> Notes: I’m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible until I feel like I have built up enough thrill to leave my readers curious and desperately wanting more 😉 You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

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I stood in the mirror, taking in my reflection.

I looked like the inside of my head. A mess.

I reach over and turn on the tap, cold water blasting on my hand. My wounds tear open for the pressure, but I feel no pain. I have become so used to the feeling of pain, internal pain, that I hardly feel pain on the skin. I wash my hands slowly.

I proceed to take off my shirt. This was the shirt I was wearing on the day of the murder. It’s been a week or so since that terrible day. I had lost track of time while running away. I took off my denim pants and balled them up before dumping them in what looked like the bin of dirty laundry. I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. The water hitting my face reminded me of the rain that day; hard and cold, as if the skies had been heavy with worry and needed to relieve.

I let my hair and body soak. I reach out for the shampoo on the bathroom counter. I read the label; FRUITGEA. I pop the lid open and sniff. Nothing. I smell nothing. It’s been 3 days since I haven’t been able to smell anything. Either I lost my sense of smell for good or this is temporary. Either way, it didn’t sadden me because it was nothing compared to all the other things I’ve lost.

Jimin-ah.

That’s when I break down. I grab my hair and just stand in the shower, crying but my cries drowned by the sound of water, just like that day.

*****

I walk out of the bathroom quietly. I have learnt the art of moving without making a sound with time because it was a skill necessary for my survival. To not be caught.

By whom?

I don’t know...

The voices in my head have started yet another discussion. My shoulders drop and I stand at the bathroom door, contemplating whether to grab the razor on the bathroom counter and slit my wrist. But then again, I don’t want the girl who rescued me to get in trouble.

The girl.

I look up and see her in the kitchen, running here and there, fetching pans and pots, stirring this and cutting that. She disappears further into the kitchen. “I don’t live with a man so I don’t have any men’s clothing. But I have a shirt or two that are super big and a new pair of track bottoms. I left it on the bed for you” she says without looking at me.

I turn and walk over to her bedroom. I notice the two small beds and assume the one where the clothes were laid out was her bed. The bedroom only had the 2 beds, a dresser table and 2 cupboards. I dress up quickly and walk to the kitchen. I hide in the door way, not knowing exactly why I was doing it. Fears from my past were making me paranoid.

She notices me and smiles brightly. “Come on in here! The soup is almost ready!”

Soup?

She seems to have read my mind. “I prepared some chicken and vegetable soup for you so you can gain some energy”

My heart warms at her words. I don’t know what she is up to, but I suddenly feel a warm pull towards her.

I take my seat at a high stool and watch her as she grabs plates and spoons and sets them before me. She sits across from me. “Taste it!” she says excitedly. I stare at the soup before me. It was warm and seemed like it smelt good. I grabbed my spoon and took a sip. The taste awakens my taste buds.

“How is it??” she asks excitedly.

I simply smile and nod and continue eating. She takes it as a sign of positive feedback and begins eating her own soup. We eat in silence, our spoons hitting the plates the only sound. “What’s your name?” she asks me, breaking the silence.

I did not want to answer. I was afraid. Afraid she’d report me as a missing person to the authorities and they’d set out to find my home and send me back. Afraid when I go back, they’ll kill me. Afraid of what she’ll do about me if she knew my story. I did not trust her nor anyone... not with my story or my  name. When I continue to eat with my head down, she continues eating and doesn’t press me for any further information.

When we finish eating, she takes my plate and spoon and washes it along with hers. I watch her silently. She is petite, barely reaching 3 inches over 5 feet. She has changed her look from what I saw when I first woke up in here. Her dark hair is now tied back in a bun and she wore a black long, extra-large tee that reached her knees and yellow track bottoms underneath it.

She finishes with the dishes and turns around, wiping her hands. “You can rest on the couch. I’ll get you pillows and blankets”

My heart feels warm again. I get off the kitchen stool and walk over to where I assume is their living room. There was a TV and a single couch. A coffee table was placed between the TV and couch. She quickly hurried in, her hands full of blankets and pillows. A soft smile played on my lips as I took in her form struggling to not trip while carrying the load that was too much for her small body. Cute.

We arrange the couch as I slide underneath the blanket. I turn away from the TV and close my eyes. After a few seconds, I hear her falling onto her bed. I turn to face the ceiling. This place... in all its unfamiliarity still feels more home than my own house. I remember when we were kids, my older brother and I writing letters to Santa about the presents we wanted. My brother peeped into my letter and I got so annoyed. I tried to push him off the chair but he didn’t even budge at my push. “If you don’t buff up, you won’t be able to endure the winds in fall” he sneers pointing at my skinny arms. I pout in annoyance and continue writing my letter. That night, my brother and I walk over to our special tree and hang our letters. “So, tell me, what did you ask for?” my brother asks. I did not want to tell him, or anyone else for that matter, because they wouldn’t understand how badly I needed what I asked for. They’d say I was being oblivious and innocent for a 9-year-old. My 13-year-old brother throws an arm over my shoulder as we make our way back home. I squirm trying to escape his touch. He laughs and holds me tight. Although I continue to struggle for escape, I inhale his scent and blush under the warmth of his brotherly hold. We went back home to the death of our mother, the only other human in the house besides us. The monster stood tall over her lifeless body, a bloody brick held in his hand. He swayed from side to side and his poisonous stench filled the room. He walked to the kitchen and poured himself another glass of poison. The next thing I knew, my brother was howling, an animalistic sound erupting from somewhere deep in his throat as my mother’s glassy eyes continued to stare at me.

My eyes fill with tears and I throw an arm over my face as I quietly sob, afraid to alert Daffodil of my crying.

[doobler]

DATA LOG//VALERIE-01//XX.XX.XXXX

SOME FILES CORRUPTED. RECOVERING UNCORRUPT FILES.

LOG 1

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

"Hey! You're not quite done yet but I wanted to start leaving you some video diary entries! Today is [REDACTED] so my 14th birthday was just last week! Pretty exciting, huh? As of now, you're about a couple months old which is really weird to think about. I'm so excited for the day you're finally done! Hopefully that'll be soon but, judging by how progress is going, it might be longer than I first predicted. Which is fine! You're worth the wait. Okay, well I just wanted to start this new little diary ritual hah hah! I'll seen you soon, buddy!"

LOG 27

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

"Hey, buddy, it's me again! Yesterday was my 16th birthday. It was pretty fun, we didn't do much. Mom made all my favorites like tostones and empanadas. I'll be graduating college in just a few months. Man, it went by so fast. Regrettably, that means you've been on the back burner. I'm real sorry, bud. I've had to work so hard at school but it means I've got a better chance at getting the job of my dreams. You understand, I know you do, your programming makes you empathetic. One day, I'll be the head of design for T.A.B.H, you'll see. Then I'll finally be able to finish you and show you off to the rest of the world. Keep sleepin' until then, okay? Dream of electric sleep. I'll see you soon."

LOG 112

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

"Today is [REDACTED]. I've finally gotten my shit together at the office. We made it! I'm now officially an employee working for the Programming and Design department of T.A.B.H! It took maybe a little longer than I wanted, I was hoping to be here at 18 but I guess two years late is better than nothing! Most of the people here are old bastards anyhow, hahaha! I get a lot of dirty looks but fuck 'em, I worked my ass off to get here and I deserve the recognition! The real work starts soon which means you'll probably be put on hold again, but only for a little longer! It's weird, I've had to age up your designs as time goes on. I guess the perfect boyfriend and companion for a 14 year old looks a little different when it's repurposed for a 20 year old. Don't worry though, I intend on keeping your [REDACTED] on the bigger side, hahah! Anyways. The next update might be a little late, I foresee this job really swallowing up all my free time. See you soon, buddy!"

LOG 120

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

"Hey. It's been a few years. I'm sorry, bud, this job just... Takes all my free time and energy. Your basic infrastructure is easy to tweak, it's your coding that's really been dragging. If I had just... A week to myself, undisturbed, you'd be finished but... Soon. Okay? We'll be together soon. I promise. Sleep well, love."

LOG 121

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

"T.A.B.H. isn't what I thought it'd be. On the outside, they're a tech company "dedicated to the pursuit of improving every day human life" but on the interior, this place reeks. There's a suspicious amount of security and the employees like myself are constantly screened, our social media always monitored, our phones constantly looked through. Thank god these diaries are directly through you. If I'd been uploading these through my phone, we'd be fucked. It's been nearly 14 years since I began building you, Valerie. You're still cutting edge, nothing these dumbasses throw together are nearly as advanced as you are. But you'll have to stay asleep for a while longer. I'm terrified of what would happen if they found you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Sweet dreams. I love you."

LOG 250

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

"This isn't what I wanted, Val. The advances we're making grow exponentially as the days pass. Androids are out, they're becoming accessible to society, but... Not in the way I wanted. They're not companions like you, they're... Slaves. Used and abused then thrown out like trash. T.A.B.H. puts so much research and work and effort into making them as lifelike as possible, only to treat them like... Like... Fuck! It's sickening, I can't. I look at my reflection every night and I'm disgusted by what I see. They're keeping me in a junior role within my department so I'll be forced to work harder but I'll never be given the jurisdiction to make POSITIVE change. They see that I'm leagues ahead of everyone else but I'm fucking trapped like a rat."

The camera view shifts. Mar's face comes into focus. He looks tired, with bags under his eyes and wrinkles at the corner of his mouth. Silvery hair has started to grow at his temples. He has multiple day old stubble along his chin.

"I can't bring myself to age you up anymore, Valerie. I want you to stay as youthful as when I first designed you. I wish... You could've finished in time and actually fulfilled my dream of having the perfect boyfriend. Instead, I pray you'll at least come online in my lifetime, so I can finally show you the love I've been dying to give you for almost 21 years now. Sleep well, sweetheart. I'll see you soon."

LOG 300

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

"I've been in hiding for 10 years now, making today [REDACTED]. God, I'm so fucking tired. You're the only legacy I've got, Valerie. No kids, no husband, no family left. Just me. And you. T.A.B.H's influence continues to grow. They've taken over the entire tech industry and are sinking their nasty little fingers into everything they can reach, from food to infrastructure and beyond. Everything looks so shiny and nice on the outside but the system is rotted all the way through. They haven't found out about you yet, but... I'm afraid they're getting close. I'm lucky to have found this place, old land my family used to own way down south, almost to the border. My grandfather was a smart man-- there isn't a microcubit of trackable technology here. The only way I'll be found is on foot. It's hard to rest, though, but it does mean I've got a little more free time to work on you. Your coding is nearly complete. I'm really proud of myself, hahah, the infinity matrix will give you the ability to learn and grow and develop just like a human, though you do have basic personality programming. Your external design has barely changed. You're still so young... Anyways. The next update might be a while. I'll do my best to stay hidden. I'll see you... Soon. Okay? Soon. I love you. Sweet dreams."

LOG ???

LOADING... LOADING... LOADING...

Maurice appears in the camera's view. He's old now, old enough to be a grandfather maybe. When he looks at you, a funny expression crosses his face. Your basic sensors pick up his heart rate, slowing gradually. He lays wrinkled fingers on your frame and smiles.

"This is it, Valerie. The end of the line. They've finally found me. I'm too old to run now. It'll be up to you. I'm gonna finish uploading the final details to your software and then you'll be done. It breaks my heart that I never got to meet you. I've seen you in my dreams for so long. You're gonna be amazing, though, I just know it. My only wish is... Please. Go out there and show humanity what you really are. Teach them that androids have souls, too, that you're all equal. Only then can life truly improve, only then will we reach harmony."

Maurice twists around when he hears something. He moves to the computer beside you and types for  while. He has something in his hand but your sensors can't pick it up. 

"I'm... Sorry, Valerie. That it had to be like this. But you've got so much ahead of you. These logs are protected deep within your mental core. They'll be incredibly difficult to access externally and hard to delete so... I'll be with you always. You'll come online soon, and I'll... Be watching on. Stay safe. Keep your chin up. I love you, Valerie. I love you so much. It's time to wake up, old friend."

[codematurgy]

you could definitely say that what follows next is a quarentine diary of sorts, but i’m writing it up here because it relates to theme making in some ways; additionally, i just want to write something positive in the middle of this!

stay safe, of course - if your finantial conditions, likely because of the government of your country and/or your employer being criminals, aren’t good enough for you to stop working, i can’t say i’m exactly praying for you because i don’t have that practice, but i do hope you’ll be fine. this moment shows us how capitalists are willing to treat the working class. mandatory class struggle aside:

for starters shout out to tumblr because i love the new dashboard ok. i’m using the cybernetic palette and i really wish it was available on the app too. of course, my love of it isn’t related to the colors alone - i always thought the dashboard looked a bit messy in structure, so building it again from zero was a fantastic decision. love that i can see the words for image or avatar while the images are loading as well; they really took care of accessibility here, which was already an ongoing process with stuff like page order or focus, etc.

i just wanted to write that shoutout because i’ve seen a lot of people complain about it - mostly because xkit stopped working - while ignoring that the folks at xkit did explain how they’re helping the tumblr developers directly, and in turn their work at rewriting xkit would be even smoother. i don’t think people actually give tumblr developers credit where is due, and i’ve been fascinated with their work ever since i found out about official blogs such as @javascript or @engineering. it also clarified a few problems i’ve had when dealing with the mechanics of reblogs, even if some bits of it still drive me nuts! in a sense, thinking about theme making for tumblr has become more gratifying when you get to understand just what you’re doing. anyway, moving on.

i haven’t really done a lot of “theme making” for the past weeks - i did do a bunch of bug fixes to the npf photosets plugin, but nothing related to designing or creating and so on. it doesn’t mean that creating was completely lost to me, though i did channel it to something entirely different: movie reviews.

yeah. that sounds pretentious, i know.

i’m not a big fan of cash grab movies(read: pretty much most of recent disney work, and anything that feels similarly souless), but i never found the strength to watch the ones that are new and more popular around here; namely, stuff from a24. which is not to say those are bad! i’ve watched my share and they are really good - i’m absolutely enamored with the vvitch, for example. however, i’ve realized that i want to discover new worlds, and not all of them too serious neither constantly bombarding my tumblr dashboard or twitter timeline. people have been doing movies for such a long time and i keep wondering, how many incredible gems i’m missing on solely because i can’t be bothered to look back?

thanks to that, i’m watching movies i never thought i would watch. and more importantly, i’m writing about them - about the things that make them this single, incredible work. much like being in a show’s fandom, i guess, and writing such long metas on it, except i get to write shorter essays because i’m not getting an entire season, ahaha. i had never watched an art film up until now, i think, and although it wasn’t my favorite format from this first experience, it was nice and i’m actually willing to try it again.

one great takeaway from this experience, besides how awesome film-making is, relates to my creations here. a fascinating thing about movies is when their envisioners work to have this coherent, complete piece of work filled with all it needs to be solid, instead of letting these loose threads. this is not in a plot sense strictly, but for so many aspects like choosing to add something to costume, set, or prop design; the choice of a weird but so incredibly telling original score; a photography that goes beyond having a pretty centralized shot and adds weight to every shot... wow, that stuff is unreal, and it is so full of purpose!

this feeling of completeness is one i think i have been working on gradually, but still could do better. i have this terrible process in which i barely have a full sketch for a theme - i just think that i want this one thing and build the whole theme around that detail live on the code instead of actually planning it. i believe that, likely because of this, it feels like my themes are just this tiny design in the middle of a blank website. Chamamento, SETE and Ágora feel like outliers in that sense, even though the process was still chaotic, solely because at one point i actually sat myself down and i said “i want this”.

hopefully, i can take this knowledge with me on the next themes coming around! i don’t know when they will come, but i do have an idea for post styling and another one for a “complete” layout - i’ll try not to merge those in my weird process so it’s not too much information, though. there’s one theme in the works for a while too, which is based on the one i mentioned working on as i first mentioned Temporal, but it’s been reworked into an entirely different beast which i’m quite happy with; mostly because there is no pixel based post size! in fact, i’m considering not having typical post sizes for all next themes, choosing a more typical blog approach. it sounds weird but so far it looks really cool, although probably not as much if you’re doing graphics with set sizes... well, graphic makers were never my demographic to begin with.

and well, on an entirely different note: i keep forgetting that when you have a theme uploaded to tumblr, you can check active installs. actually seeing people using your themes, when before the only way you could see it was by hoping whoever reblogged or liked it had in fact installed it, is so exciting!!! it actually confirms that the people using my themes, or at least using Temporal, are often just your average blogger sharing memes, fanart and talking about the latest podcast - you know the one. it’s a pleasure to be making themes for y’all!

[hollenka99]

Now He’s Gone Forever

Summary: Anti decides to strike but realises Jack might still have his uses. He should get the doctor and the magician to fix this. Inspired by this piece of art by TurquoiseMagpie.

Warnings: Character death, discovering a body, brief description of said body

This pumpkin carving was boring, no matter how enthusiastic Jack was. The demon would just have to bide his time. There had to be a window of opportunity coming up.

"There's his eyes." Jack checked the monitor. "Now comes the mouth. The mouth is gonna be hard but I'm gonna make it look like he's got-" he bared his teeth and made a sound to suggest a goofy grin. "Like he's got a load of teeth. Not sharp, jagged teeth. That's lame. That's not scary. Even though that's what I did last year. I'm a diff- I'm a changed man! I'm a different person."

He saws at the pumpkin, grunting from the effort.

"Gerald, you should go see a dentist. The teeth are coming out nicely. Well, at least I think they are, I haven't been able to follow the lines properly because the knife is like... sometimes it's a bit too big. Sometimes I'm terrible at this. Um, okay, almost there, almost there. Last one. Last one." He rotates the pumpkin to face the camera. "Did it work? Is your mouth gonna come out? Come on... yeah!" The sliced pieces slide out from the slight pressure he subjects them to. He continues to cheer as the rest of the mouth is removed. "Now I have to wipe off all the marker because, when you can see the outline, and then you see where I didn't follow, it looks stupid. You gotta see the pumpkin for what it is. Tada!"

After furiously wiping the black marker off, Jack presents Gerald the Pumpkin to the camera. It shines from the artificial light that lies off screen. He admires his work, grabbing the nearby pumpkin top so that he may complete the activity. Jack expresses his concerns that the top may not fit and cheers when it does, proclaiming Gerald is a fully formed pumpkin.

"Okay, so the last thing you wanna do is get your knife and you're gonna have to do fine-"

This seemed like the perfect opportunity to strike. Anti had been corrupting the footage throughout the video. Now it was simply a case of taking what he wanted. Jack is unsuspecting as Anti whispers instructions. All he needs is a gateway.

He coerces the man to lift the blade to his throat. His way in was open now. Anti forces himself into a position of control. The human's mind has no defences and struggles to resist the attack. Either way, Anti gains full command of the body with barely any fight back from his victim.

He giggles at his easy victory. Should he mock the video's audience or simply leave? No, they were only beginning to pay true attention to him. Some even argued he didn't exist. He'd show them.

"His body was weak. You all said my name. Kept me inside too long. I am here now. It's all your fault. Listen to me, you all made this happen. You could have stopped me. But you just watched as this happened! Now he's gone forever. Say goodbye."

With his message done, he didn't need this body any longer. Who was Jack but yet another pawn? Anti wasn't going to deny he was an influential pawn. However, when all was said and done, Jack wasn't needed anymore. Anti was a little hesitant. A guy like this had the potential to be useful again later. Jack had slit his throat; he was dead as soon as Anti stop possessing him.

He knew that doctor and magician were friends of Jack's. How about they try save him? It would be fun, watching the heartbreak, their desperation. If he played his cards right, he could get them involved. Manipulate them so subtly that they weren't even aware he was in control. He could make them into his puppets. If they couldn't save Jack, oh well. He'd move on to his next target. Although, he had to admit, the lost potential would frustrate him. There was so much he realised he could do with Jack. Why did he let his host slice his neck like that?

He makes an attempt to prepare the video for uploading. Everything glitches and refuses to function. Great. He spent so long working to reach this point. All this taunting of millions gone to waste. Plus a dead body on his hands now too.

That settled it. Jack's friends would have to come to his rescue and revive him. All that he needed now was to come up with a way to team them up. He spots a post-it note reminding Jack of social plans set for the following day. He writes his own note. At least pen and paper didn't involve technology.

Anti cut out the bottom of 'Gerald'. He figured it was a large enough hole for his plans. Carrying it to the recording room, he positioned himself and forced the pumpkin down on Jack's head. This would be something interesting for his next visitor to find.

He abandons the corpse, leaving a smudged Happy Halloween! on the whiteboard and blood he refuses to deal with.

---

Henrik stood outside the pub. Jack was half an hour late by now. The doctor's phone claimed he had attempted to call Jack seven times. Seven missed calls and three ignored texts. Henrik was willing to give his friend the benefit of the doubt at first but by this point, his patience was long gone. Jack was the one who suggested a catch up over drinks in the first place. Where was the asshole? He didn't seem to have the decency to let Henrik know he was going to be incredibly late. He wished they had never organised a night out. Jack's behaviour was unacceptable. It wasn't like him to blank his friends.

Yes, this was certainly odd behaviour. Jack was usually the type to apologise if he was 30 seconds late. He would definitely contact Henrik if he was stuck in traffic. So why hadn't he?

Something wasn't right. Maybe it would be a good idea to visit Jack at his home. He sent him a text to give Jack some warning, not that he expected it to be seen. If he didn't answer his door, Henrik was sure a spare key was left somewhere. Jack was always locking himself out of his house due to being disorganised.

Henrik knocks on the front door, praying for Jack to answer. If he forgot about their plans to meet, Henrik could live with that. He would be angry, of course, but he'd live. He is unimpressed when he finds a spare key lying under one of Signe's plants. Obviously, Jack was willing to have his home broken into. At least his wake up call would be from a friend and not a potential thief.

He searches, calling Jack's name multiple times. The front door had been locked so maybe Jack had left for the pub. No, he would have contacted Henrik if he was going to be late. Besides, he had already gone through that line of argument. His dread was only building. Maybe Signe knew where he was? No, she was away, visiting friends. That's what Jack had told him.

He enters a room, only to be greeted by blood. It's on the table and the floor. This blood can belong to only one person. Henrik begins screaming Jack's name as he races up the stairs. No, please no. He doesn't want to find what he's expecting.

The recording room door was ajar. With the rest of the house empty, this was the last possible place Jack could be found. He pushes the door and turns away immediately. This couldn't be happening.

Jack was there, slumped in his recording chair. His position must have slipped because he was half off the seat, only his arms and a knee keeping him on it. The pumpkin he had been carving was covering the majority of his face. His green hair looked a little like it was part of the plant. Henrik didn't like that.

The worst part was the blood. It was all over. The back of the pumpkin had a good proportion of red. Jack's hands had dripped some on the floor as well. When he forced himself to look closer, he found Jack's throat had been slit. It was clear he'd been killed downstairs then brought up here for some reason.

When had this happened? They'd only spoken yesterday. Granted, the conversation was only to confirm their plans but they had still talked. Last night, Henrik had walked around his neighbourhood with his children as they demanded sweets from local strangers. Jack had mentioned he was going to film a pumpkin carving video, similar to the one he made last Halloween.

It seems Jack barely finished his video before being attacked.

The pumpkin was degrading. Clearly his murderer didn't care about leaving Jack respectfully after death. Who would even want to murder a person like Jack? Removing it from his head was the first thing Henrik did. Jack didn't deserve to be found like this, to be mocked in death. With the mask gone, Henrik could see his friend's face. Jack had often joked about being pale but this was no comparison. A touch of his arm confirmed rigor mortis had set in. It had been at least eight hours then.

He has to know what happened. The police, they would need evidence. Jack had been filming a video, right? Maybe the attack had been captured on camera. Henrik looks at the computer desk, searching for the camera or anything useful. There's a note addressed specifically to him and it's certainly not Jack who wrote it.

H̸̕ȨN̵RI̧K̷

̶T͜a͞l̢͏̴k҉̷͢ ̕҉t̛͜o͘͞ t͝h̕e̸͘ ̷m̸a̸gi̴͟c̛i̶a̕͢ņ҉.͠ ̛S̵̢͟a͟͞ve͞͏̧ ̧̧͜y͢o̸͘͟u͘҉͞r̛͜ ҉͞fr̕i̛͘e̡n̛͢d҉̸.̷̕ ̴I̷f͡͏ ͡͏y̢o̴͡͏u̕ ̕c͝͏a̕n.͟

The magician? Henrik thinks he recalls Jack mentioning being friends with one. He'd have to search through Jack's contact to find this guy. He hates invading his friend's phone but it's necessary. He sees a Marvin and the name rings bells. He thinks this is the one. He skims through their texts to make sure. There are mentions of magic shows. That settles it, he's ringing this Marvin.

"Hey Jack, I can't really talk right now. I'm just leaving a kid's party. Call me back in an hour?" "Wait! My name is Henrik. I'm a friend of Jack's. You're a magician, correct?" "Uh, yeah." "Do you know how to bring back the dead?"

[sweetheartjeongguk]

pretty kitty (m)

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: hybrid au, camgirl au, smut, fluff with mild angst (in the future)

rating: nc-17

warning(s): (probably inaccurate) portrayal of cam porn, mention of impregnation and daddy kinks, squirting (lol)

word count: 3.3k+

summary: never in his life would taehyung have expected the shy girl from his history class to be the sex kitten on his computer screen. 

the discovery | the denial | the meeting | the aftermath | the payback

masterlist

It happens when Taehyung is browsing the Internet for some porn - something not unlike Taehyung to do on a boring Saturday evening. His friends are out of town for the night for a concert, and Taehyung had been stuck covering two shifts at the restaurant where he applied to with Jungkook. Since Jungkook is one of the individuals who ditched work to go to the concert, Taehyung ended up being stuck with their gross co-worker who chews his food too loudly and has no shame in discussing his “herpes appointment” for the entire restaurant to hear. Taehyung still doesn’t understand how he hasn’t been fired yet.

Taehyung pointedly ignores the influx of messages that flood his social media. As a tiger hybrid, he is viewed as a prized possession at his college filled with both predator and prey hybrids. Some openly worship the ground he walks on while others cower in fear and rush out of the classroom before he could reach them. While attending one of the biggest hybrid colleges in the entire country has given him some of the greatest friends he could ever dream of having, it did attract not-so-nice people who either wanted to be friends in hopes of becoming popular or having him as their next heat partner.

Needless to say, Taehyung is in desperate need of a distraction from the chaos the day had brought him.

Taehyung sighs as he clicks ‘Next’, completely unimpressed with the boring selections the site recommends. On any other day, he would have been desperate to whack one off to one of them, but today just isn’t the day.

Before he could finally give up, Taehyung stops to recall one of the sites that Jimin had recommended a couple of weeks ago. They had been drunk and ranting together about different things, and one of the topics chosen was porn. Shoving the laptop off his lap, Taehyung grabs his phone, ignoring the thirst texts from Sana from English class, to text his best friend.

hey, what was the site you gave me a couple weeks ago?

It isn’t even a minute later when Jimin replies.

oooo, kim taehyung, are you doing what i think you’re going to do? ;)

Taehyung rolls his eyes, practically seeing his best friend’s greasy smile on his face.

what is it...please? :D

He grimaces at the stupid emoji, but he knows that it’s the only way to get Jimin to tell him what he wants.

*sighs* fine, here you go. enjoy ;))))

Taehyung scoffs but silently thanks Jimin as he copies the link in the text message into the search bar on his laptop. He prays that he hasn’t been given a link to a sketchy website - he isn’t ready to deal with the embarrassment as to why his laptop gained a million viruses in one night (again).

When the website finally loads, Taehyung can’t help but raise an eyebrow. Dozens of thumbnails pop up of different girls all of different hybrid species, most being bunny hybrids – a hot commodity among the hybrid porn industry – with a few feline and canine hybrids here and there. All were positioned in front of the camera in their most provocative poses, tongue seductively poking through and fingers dancing along the inside of their transparent panties.

Taehyung has never dabbled in camgirls before, but maybe tonight will decide whether he likes it or not.

Taehyung scrolls down the list, trying to pick the first one that catches his eye. Nothing seems to pop out at him – the concepts of each video pretty much the same throughout the page. He merely blinks stoically at the tempting shots of bare breasts and seductive lip bites.

‘Maybe I should just give up for tonight’ Taehyung grumbles to himself as his gaze shoots down to his dick which lays embarrassingly soft inside his sweatpants.

At the end of the third page, right when Taehyung is about to call it a night, one video catches his eye.

It is a pretty short video compared to the other videos – only 11 minutes in length – but it has garnered a fair amount of views. He couldn’t see a clear shot of the girl’s face, but she must be good if she’s had over 6,000 views and it was only uploaded a day ago?

“prettykitty?” Taehyung mumbles to himself.

Without another word, Taehyung clicks on the video and sits back against the headboard of his bed, mentally and physically preparing himself. As the video loads, he scrolls through the old messages saved in the chatroom from the day before.

daddyjeon – damn baby, you look so pretty when you cum

ygym12 – yeah baby, keep touching yourself but you better not cum yet

jxxhyun – fuck, i luv how wet u get. if u need another person in ur videos, send me a message xoxo

On and on, Taehyung scrolls through and sees the same type of messages – ones that basically groan and whine at how hot you are and how wet you are for them. He’s a little weirded out at how these people act as if you are genuinely wet for them and not for the impeding money flow going into your bank account after the stream ends.

Clicking play, he is first greeted with your breasts which is wrapped in one of the cutest pastel pink lingerie sets he’s ever seen in his life. The bra is practically see-through, a little tease of your nipple showing here and there as you shift across the screen. As you lay on your side, Taehyung catches a peek at the curve of your ass which is accentuated greatly by the matching lace panties. He even catches sight of your black tail lazily swishing from side to side.

Hybrids don’t usually show off their ears or tails in person (unless they’re in heat or they concentrate enough to make them appear), so Taehyung assumes that you show them off during your shows as a little treat to your viewers – giving off the illusion that you’re in heat for them.

“Hey guys, long time no see.” You giggle innocently to the camera.

Taehyung swallows the lump that lodges itself in his throat. You sound so adorable and yet the view in front of him is one of the sexiest things he’s ever seen in his life.

“Sorry, baby, I had school earlier,” you pout as you read one of the comments. “I would have gotten to you sooner, but my professor was killing me.”

‘Cute, she’s a college student.’ Taehyung thinks to himself. ‘I wonder if I know her.’

He tosses this thought aside – even if you did go to his school, he doubts that he’ll ever figure out who you are. Not that he cared in the first place, of course.

“What should I take off first, hmm?” You hum, teasing your audience with a little slip of your bra strap.

There is a tiny pause as you read through the comments, but it seems that one comment catches your eye.

“Hmm, someone said my panties…Isn’t that a little too easy, though?” You laugh. “I want to keep teasing you, baby. I can’t have you coming just yet.”

Taehyung gulps again – his dick is already hardening, and you haven’t even been doing anything. He hesitates to place a hand over top, but for some reason, he keeps his hands at his sides.

“Are you touching yourself yet?” You whisper, fingers tracing around your nipple which slowly pebbles underneath the sheer fabric. “God, you look so fucking sexy with your hand on your cock.”

This entices Taehyung to finally slip his hand underneath the sweatpants, kneading slowly. He wants to work himself up until the end, not wanting to come when you haven’t yet. For some reason, you have him under your spell, and Taehyung wouldn’t hesitate to follow your every word.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Kim?’

“God, I’m so wet for you.” You continue to caress the swell of your breasts in an agonizing pace. “I bet you wish you could fuck my little wet pussy, huh?”

Upon reading a comment in the chatroom, your hand trails down your stomach to slip inside your panties, teasing at the little bud above your sleek entrance. Taehyung desperately wishes that you would take them off, but you continue to leave the vision to his own imagination.

“F-fuck, that feels so good, Daddy.”

The wet squelching of your pussy as you push one finger inside becomes apparent to the microphone. By the sound of the “ka-ching” alerts on your computer and your breathy laughs, your viewers love it. Shifting slightly, Taehyung can now see your lips, reddened by your constant biting and licking.

Taehyung forces himself to hold back on his strokes. He couldn’t come just yet. You haven’t even gotten to the good part yet, and Taehyung is already reminded of when he was a virgin that came in less than 10 seconds at even the slightest image of perky tits.

“You want to see the toy one of my daddies bought me?” A sharp canine pops out of the side of your grin. “I’ve only used it once, but it feels so good that I want to try it on camera for you.”

The tipping doesn’t subside, even when you move offscreen to grab the toy from what Taehyung assumes is in a box somewhere. When you reappear, you’re holding a long, sparkly pink rabbit vibrator, humming adorably as you show off the gift to your viewers who all probably comment on how cute you are and how ready they are for you to fuck yourself on it.  

“All thanks to Mr. Kim for buying this for me,” You coo into the microphone. “I’ll make sure to come all over it for you, Daddy.”

Taehyung doesn’t know why he imagines that you’re talking about him. He doesn’t know why his cock fills out more at the idea of you talking to just him, telling him that she is all wet and ready for him – ready for him to breed her and fill her up with his kittens.

‘Focus, Taehyung, focus.’

When he finally opens his eyes after taking a breather, he chokes on the sight of you removing your panties and spreading your legs wide to show the camera. He groans in excitement at the clear string of wetness that clings to your panties – oh, how he longs to have a tiny taste of your sweetness. He muffles a growl inside his chest, his tiger counterpart ready to jump out and take what he thinks is his.

Thankfully, Taehyung prides himself on what little control he has left of himself. As you position the toy at your hole, all sleek and wet for the taking, Taehyung starts to speed up his movements over his cock.

“O-oh, Daddy,” Your voice cracks from pleasure as you slowly thrust the vibrator inside, pressing the rabbit piece against your throbbing clit. “You f-fuck me so well, I w-want to come so badly.”

Taehyung has the urge to talk to you and tell you not to come – that you’re only allowed to come when he’s done filling your pretty little pussy up. The sad realization that will never happens briefly visits Taehyung, a sharp pain in his chest – but he reminds himself that it’s his tiger talking and that after he comes, his common sense will come back. On the other hand, Taehyung craves the feeling so much that he wouldn’t even be mad if the lust for you doesn’t disappear even after he clicks out of the webpage and closes his eyes to sleep.

You hold strong in the beginning of your slow but deep ministrations, but it’s apparent that you’re ready to come when you switch on the vibrating setting. You mewl loudly at the sudden sensation, sounding more like a cat than ever. Your pussy seems to get wetter with each thrust, and Taehyung salivates at the sight of your wetness dripping over the toy and staining the sheets beneath you.

“D-Daddy, I can’t t-take it anymore.” You cry out as you grind against the length stuffed inside. “L-let me c-come, please.”

Even over the loud dinging of the tips and the vibrations, all Taehyung could comprehend are your desperate whimpers for release and the visual of your pussy being fucked by the pink vibrator. For a moment, he imagines the two of you in the same room – you underneath him, begging for him to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore and to fill your pussy deep with his hot come. Sweat drips down from his face as he fucks up into his hand, biting down on his lip to avoid moaning too loudly and alerting the neighbors of his not-so innocent activities.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” The moment builds up until it’s broken by your loud cries and the sudden wetness that drenches your bedsheets.

Taehyung finally comes all over his fingers, his release dripping down to stain his sweatpants. He continues to pump his length until he feels the sharp pain of overstimulation. His eyes never strays away from your form – you are now laying down and resting your head against your pillow, your breath hot and heavy.  

“Oh man, that shit’s good.” You laugh heartily, prompting a genuine laugh from Taehyung as well.

From some reason, your voice is starting to sound a little familiar to him. He feels like he’s heard it somewhere before, but he is quick to mark it off as a coincidence.

That is until you lift your head to grin tiredly at the camera.

Taehyung coughs violently as he nearly chokes on air at the sight of your face – your familiar face. The face that he most definitely remembers from his history class. And his English class.

More importantly, from his childhood as the shy girl that cried on the playground on the first day of school.  

‘What the fuck?!’

“Thanks again, you guys. We beat our tipping record! Woohoo!” You throw up two thumbs up, scrunching up your nose and wiggling your body in an excited manner. “Until next time!”

You send a kiss to the camera, your fluffy ears twitching curiously as you lean forward to turn off the stream.

The screen goes blank, reflecting Taehyung’s shocked face back at himself. Taehyung sits there robotically, hand still on his soft dick and jaw practically unhinged.

“What the fuck!”  

“So, how’d your dick appointment with yourself go?” Jimin smirks.

All eyes go to Taehyung who sits there emotionlessly. Jungkook goes to poke him in the cheek, ignoring the growing snarl sounding from Taehyung’s chest.

“Hyung, I think he’s broken.” The youngest snorts. “What site did you show him anyway?”

“The one you introduced me to.” Jimin takes a sip from his coffee cup. “I didn’t think it was that hardcore. It’s just chicks fucking themselves onscreen.”

“You know Taehyung, he’s into all that lovey-dovey couples having ‘intimate relations with each other’ shit.” Yoongi jokes sarcastically, dodging the palm sliding across the table.

“Shut up, hyung.” Taehyung grumbles. “I’m fine.”

“Okay then, why haven’t you been eating your food for the past 10 minutes?” Jimin points at the barely touched chocolate croissant resting on the porcelain plate in front of his best friend.

“I’m just not hungry, I guess.” Taehyung sighs, pushing the plate away and taking a sip from his strawberry juice instead.

“That’s a new one,” Jungkook says in slight concern. “You always eat that every time we come here.”

“Just let him be, you guys.” Namjoon chimes in, not looking up from his cell phone. “He’s probably just having a bad day.”

The whole table hums in agreement and resorts to their own eating. Jungkook continues munching on the assortment of fruits on his plate – being a bunny hybrid calls for a strictly vegetarian diet – while the rest happily chowed down on plates of meat and fish.

Jungkook is the only prey hybrid at the table – Jimin and Seokjin being dog hybrids, Namjoon and Hoseok both wolf hybrids, and Yoongi a panther hybrid. Surprisingly, despite the difference in species, Jungkook fit into their group well and only ever freaked out whenever there were slight scuffles between members and the fangs were brought out.

“Oh, look, Kookie, there’s Ji-Eun…” Hoseok nudges the youngest in the side with his elbow.

“Hyung…” Jungkook covers his blushing face with two sweater paws. “You said you were going to stop making fun of me.”

“I thought you knew me better than that, Kook.” Hoseok grins evilly.

Jungkook replies with a despondent sigh.

“Who’s her friend?” Namjoon asks as he watches the group of three – Ji-Eun, Seulgi, and another girl – walk up to the cash register to order.

“Hmm…I’m not sure. She might be new?” Seokjin answers, cheeks full of meat and rice.

Everyone watches in disgust as he swallows the giant wad of food only to shovel another pile back into his mouth. How he fits all that food in his mouth without choking – the world may never know.

“Anyways…” Yoongi trails off as he wills himself to ignore the sloppy chewing sounds assaulting his left ear. “I think her name is Y/N or something. She’s been here since sophomore year.”

Everyone’s attention suddenly jerks back to Taehyung as he spews his strawberry juice all over the table. Even customers from other tables glance in distaste at the boy before turning back to their own conversations. Thankfully, the trio at the cash register don’t notice Taehyung’s embarrassing blunder.

“Jesus, Tae, what the fuck? I just upgraded my phone.” Jimin wipes away at the juice sticking to the table and to a good portion of his phone screen. “What was that about?”

Taehyung unknowingly glances at the cash register, his eyes briefly scanning over your face, before turning back to Jimin.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Unfortunately for Taehyung, Jimin could read him like a book and immediately shifts in his seat to stare in the direction of the three girls. Upon turning back, Taehyung is greeted with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Oooo, Taehyung has a little crush!”

“Ooh, on who?

“Hyung, you like Ji-Eun too?”

“I never knew you liked Seulgi?”

“No, I don’t like Ji-Eun or Seulgi or…” Taehyung mumbles, unable to finish his sentence.

“Oh, I see.” Hoseok holds in a cackle. “You’re into that other girl, huh?”

“No.” Taehyung answers firmly, ripping off a piece of his croissant and sending a scatter of crumbs across the table.

“Hmm, we have a liar on our hands.” Jimin chortles alongside Hoseok, the two evils silently plotting their scheme.

“So, if I go ask her out right now, you wouldn’t mind?” Hoseok asks innocently.

“You don’t even know her name.” Taehyung hisses.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “So you do have a problem with me asking her out?”

“Nope.” It takes everything within Taehyung not to growl. “I don’t care.”

“Okay then…” Hoseok sends Taehyung a kind smile (Taehyung holds back an eye roll) before pushing himself off his chair and heading over towards the cash register.

“Oh shit.”

All laugh except Taehyung who consciously suppresses his burning jealousy as he watches Hoseok taps you on the shoulder. As you turn to face him, your eyes instantly widen at Hoseok’s dominating presence. Even before Hoseok can utter another word, you stutter out a quick response before linking arms with Seulgi and shuffling out of the entrance of the coffee shop with the other two girls who shake their heads, uttering unheard words of encouragement to their shy friend.

“What was that about?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow as Hoseok struts back to the table.

Hoseok shrugs. “I don’t know, I just said hi and she acted as if I murdered her entire family.”

“She’s just shy,” Namjoon surmises. “I think I had art with her last semester, and she was always really quiet.  I just didn’t know she was that shy.”

“So, how did you know her, Taehyung?”

Jimin is greeted with an empty chair and half-eaten croissant.

[yiqiie]

IDOL PRODUCER S2: E2 THOUGHTS

every week, i’ll sit down and watch the newest episode of Idol Producer Season 2 《青春有你》and write down all my thoughts. nothing get’s left out so get ready for a bunch of memes, shit posts and rants as we get through another season of our fave survival show 

feel free to send me any questions to my inbox and i’ll answer them asap!

a/n: sorry this is late! i forgot the episode was released yesterday welp but tbh saturday night is probably gonna be my upload day anyway 

start time: 10:42 am 

my internet is experiencing problems woooooo so this will be interesting 

so many goddamn ads 

wait who’s the team who were playing like instruments and shit??? they sounded AWESOME

oh damn recap of zyx being pissed off 

MILK ADS 

that chewing gum is actually pretty good ngl 

also the theme song is getting catchier so don’t be surprised if i start liking it 

i still feel so bad for the kids who are sitting out IN THE COLD 

[break while my internet decides if it wants to continue being an asshole]

MC JIN YOU’RE HILARIOUS I LOVE YOU 

‘if you’re a rapper, PLEASE LEAVE’ i’m dead 

zhang pd is sighing lmao 

chen si jian leggo 

IT’S A RAPPER I’M CRYING AHAHAHHAHAAH 

*awkward silence* 

he’s shaking omfg poor baby 

also minghao is really cute ily i never said it before 

HE WROTE THAT?? oof you got talent boy 

he got a zyx serious nod 

wtf he was so quiet??? and now he’s just rapping the shit out of this song 

HE CAN SING YES YOU GO BABE 

oh damn those lyrics 

is it an A? i saw in the description there might be an A today 

IT’S A B YOU GO SWEETHEART 

IT’S THE SMILER FROM LAST EPISODE 

i love their suits 

LI ZHENNING BABE YOUR SMILE 

black pearl i’m crying his skin is GORGEOUS 

HIS POUT 

ALL OF THEIR SMILES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL 

zyx and mc jin talking about shi mingze being similar to kris wu 

LOOK AT ZYX’S FACE MY EXO FEELS 

he looks like my uncle I SPIT MY WATER OUT LMFAO 

jia yi’s CLAPPING I AM IN LOVE 

THAT ENTRANCE 

HIP WIGGLING I LOVE IT 

the song was damn good 

mc jin lmfao HIS SOUNDS 

even the trainees know that their bets on other trainees’ grades are probably gonna be wrong lol 

YOU’VE SCARED THEM ZHANG PD 

jia yi why are you so fcking cute 

NO ONE IN C EITHER 

well their prediction wasn’t wrong they said all of them would be D together 

but :( i really liked their perf 

HE WANTS TO GO ON STAGE JUST TO SEE ZHANG PD 

what a precious bub i shall protect 

stretchy bendy boi

xu long han uwu 

WAIT 

HE WAS THE ONE WHO CALLED ZYX A DIMPLE LIAR 

AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH 

[pls excuse as my wifi loads again]

LI RONGHAO NOT UNDERSTANDING THE JOKE 

i actually love him 

oh jesus this song brings back the memories lmfao 

THIS KID IS FCKING HILARIOUS I LOVE HIM 

stretchy bendy boi again woooooo 

I’M CRYING HE’S SO FUNNY I LOVE HIM MUM 

we already knew he was F but still ;; 

YOU MADE A GOOD IMPRESSION THOUGH GORGEOUS ILY 

YAO MINGMING ILY HE’S SO CUTE 

LOOK AT HOW ADORABLE ALSKDJALSD

6 years as a trainee damn boi 

oh shit 

how is being this good at dancing fair holy goddamn 

THEY CAN SING TOO WTF THIS IS NOT FAIR 

[wifi cut off again so guess what i GET TO WATCH THE PERF AGAIN] 

zyx has his serious face on 

wait they just got up from that position WITHOUT THEIR HANDS 

HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE

uh oh they ain’t getting As or Bs 

A C AND A D NOOOO 

okay i agree with his comments but c’mon they were nervous 

don’t worry babes you have plenty of time to improve! ;;; 

zhou shi yuan oh god i need to remember names 

HE DOES BIOMEDICINE?? DAMN BOI 

deep voice holy shit damn 

VOCALS VOCALS VOCALS 

omg so many vocals today 

BROMANCING ALREADY SHARING MILK 

okay that sounds weird 

THE BOY HE CHEERS AT EVERYONE WHO IS HE 

others: :| 

this boi: :O

omfg he’s a fcking meme too 

[paused while my mother makes me watch a David Attenborough documentary on bamboo] 

MAVERICKS LET’S GO 

MR X’S SONG WHOOP WHOOO 

IDOL PROD S1 FEELS LEGGO 

IT’S ACAPELLA HOLY SHIT LET’S GO 

vocals damn holy shit 

okay the dancing may not be as on point because there was a bit where they weren’t doing anything 

BUT I STILL LIKE THEIR VOCALS 

YAO CHI WHAT THE 

WE HAVE A B BABES 

GUAN YUE FINALLY 

MY BEAUTIFUL SMILING BABY BOY I’VE MISSED YOU 

even yixing is in love with his smile i can tell 

those sharp dance moves though 

I LOVE GUAN YUE GUYS 

honestly that was my favourite performance i don’t care what other people say 

it’s probably gonna be a B 

even though i want him to get an A 

LIAN HUAI WEI MY FAVOURITE BUB 

li wenhan holy shit you are fcking adorable 

YUEHUA LET’S GOOOOO

he forgot to bow WHAT A CUTIE 

LI WENHAN BEING A LEADER I LOVE 

babe don’t say you don’t want an F because zyx can sense fear and he’s gonna give you one 

i’M PRAYING FOR YOU ALREADY 

wenhan is such a soft boy omg 

JIAYOU BABES I’M ROOTING FOR YOU 

oh goddamn these slow mo shots are killing me 

OOF WENHAN GAVE ME A LOOK 

picking up the rose petals I AM DEAD 

guys i still really love jolin she smiled at me and i just forgot about my love for all the others 

jks li wenhan is singing at me now 

i want him to get an A but my bet is on a B 

NO Fs OR Ds WE DOING GOOD 

hu chun yang is really cute just saying 

told y’all so 

even though i wanted him to get an A

YES IT’S THE BAND HOLY SHIT 

THIS WAS SUPER GOOD IN THE PREVIEW 

oof i love it i love it i love it 

probs not gonna get the results i want them to get but WHO CARES I’M STANNING 

all Cs i can deal with that 

LIKE MY DAD POOR LI RONGHAO

i really like this guy’s suit 

wait i forgot his name 

i’ll wait till zyx says it again lmfao 

ZHANG PD SAYS HE’S HANDSOME 

chen you wei THAT’S HIS NAME 

HE GOT AN F WHAT 

oh here we go gramarie

okay i gotta say gramarie is really good at picking songs 

like last year it was a really good song too 

when are we getting an A 

the accents are so cute AHAHAHAHA 

zyx is losing his shit 

i missed their names though and their company 

there aren’t any left????

are there seriously no As?

oh damn 

i just noticed that the new trainee clothes are from new balance 

I AM CRYING FROM LAUGHTER 

such a good reference to ‘balance’ 

they’re really not going to give zyx a break lmfao 

theme song practice leggo

IT’S THE SM PRACTICE ROOM 

MY SM FAMILY FEELS 

i really do love the new uniforms 

THE DORMS 

WE’VE MISSED YOU 

bruh the gifts are better than last year 

wenhan you’re adorable omg i’ve said this so many times 

SOMEONE HAS A YODA AHAHAHHA

XU MINGHAO YOU’RE A GORGEOUS BOI 

and you’re a cutie too 

he speaks so softly too ugh ily 

lmfao their hands look like jellyfish ngl 

but damn xu minghao you’re a good teacher 

wang jiayi ;;; working when everyone left already 

ngl i’m not feeling the broship like last season where people would go out of their way to help each other 

he’s literally by himself and it’s nearly 6am 

jesus this boy is hard working 

LMAO once one person comes in everyone comes in ahahhahha

okay okay previews here we come 

wait removing the centre decision 

TO WHAT

oh damn future stages what a look 

I LIKE 

sidenote: i took a ss of this beautiful boy but forgot where i was going to put it so i’m gonna leave it here anyways. enjoy :)

finish time: 9:47 pm 

that’s all folks; tune in next week for another episode of mai’s shitposting whilst we suffer through another survival show together!