#okay so what i also spent ¾ of my free time today drawing and thinking abouy hom and his familu

[narutomaki]

my artfight profile is all set up so I can go back to being insane exclusively about Chris tomorrow

here's my af https://artfight.net/~sevenlambs

[bp-zb1fics]

Something cute with Zhang Hao where the reader became close with one of the boys (Jiwoong maybe?) and he's jealous because poor boy has the biggest crush on reader :( with a cute lil confession? 🥰

A real kiss~

pairing: jealous zhang hao x long time friend reader ft. jiwoong as the cause of drama (jk)

pronouns: none used

genre: canon au, fluff, humour

tw/tags: introvert things, nicknames, jealousy lol, jiwoong giving hands-on acting lessons (maybe a lil too hands-on for hao but he’s just being nice y’all), woong best wingman (yes he can sense the tension), kdrama mention, flashback, kissing, confessions

wc: 1175

summary: maybe hao’s a teeny little bit jelly of how well you get along with jiwoong. 

a/n if any of you saw this earlier than scheduled, it's because tumblr hates me and likes to confuse me constantly~ anyways thanks for the req anon, this was really cute and i enjoyed writing it very much, a little content note: xiào xiào is a nickname used for kids who are like happy or smiley but hao calls mc that bc they make hao happy shdsd ok if any better mandarin speaker would like to correct me or suggest another nickname, just lmk~

check my pinned for more fics!

Zhang Hao likes to think he’s a fairly laid back person.

Or at least, that’s what he likes to think when you’ve been deep in conversation with Jiwoong for the past hour and not spending time with the person who actually invited you over (him).

Okay maybe he isn’t being fair. You’ve also, over the past hour, checked in on him and tried your best to involve him in your conversation. It’s just that Hao is an introvert and today is one of the days where he doesn’t feel like making it a three way conversation. Also they’ve mostly worked it out but he and Jiwoong still have their awkward moments so there’s that too.

“You alright Hào hào?” Well at least he can enjoy the fact you’re using the nickname that only you call him. (Because absolutely no one else is allowed to call him that ever).

“I’m fine, Xiào xiào.”

You had joined Yuehua around the same time, Zhang Hao as an idol trainee while you were preparing to go into acting. To say you were close would be an understatement. You clicked immediately, the other Yuehua trainees would joke that you were Hao’s co-parent with how often you would come over to their dorm with food. 

Hao spent every free day he had off the program with you if both of you weren’t busy. Sometimes you’d even accompany him to visit his subway ads, obviously sporting a mask and hat and keeping it lowkey so as not to draw attention to yourself. While you’ve been an extra or had a line or two for a few drama gigs, you haven’t exactly made your public debut just yet.

It just so happened that you’d be working with Jiwoong on your first minor supporting role in The Good Bad Mother, alongside your actor sunbaenim in Yuehua who had the starring role. The eldest hyung also happened to have quite a bit of experience in acting and you happened to have questions. While your company sunbaenims and teachers were helpful, they were also quite busy and you didn’t want to bother them too much.

“So for kissing scenes-”

Suddenly, Hao’s full attention is on you as you ask his bandmate how one goes about filming such scenes. He’s not dumb. Hao knows once you start getting bigger roles, you might do scenes like that. But dammit, he wants to be your first kiss, not some actor who’s playing your love interest.

“You’ve never been kissed before?”

It’s one of those moments where you’re too tired from the hours and hours of PR training, Hao preparing for Boys Planet and you for the eventual conferences and public appearance you’ll make once you make your acting debut. 

“It’s not that.” You sink into the sofa of the little room you’ve been in for hours, learning how to avoid getting a bad edit on camera. 

“It’s just that none of them really meant anything, you know? It was for fun, for a dare or some shit like that. To figure out whether I liked boys or girls or both. I just don’t think it’s a real kiss, you know?”

“What’s a real kiss then?”

You’re quiet for a bit and Hao’s about to move on with the conversation when you speak again.

“With someone I like. I’d be nice to kiss someone I like. Someone who likes me too.”

I like you, Hao thinks. I’d like to kiss you. 

He could do it. He could offer. But he’s shy and your friendship is only a few months old and he’s going to get shipped off to this Mnet program soon. So instead he says:

“That sounds nice. I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“Maybe because you’re the type to go around kissing everyone, Mr. Campus prince.”

You tease.

“Hey! I wasn’t like that at all.”

Hao protests. You grin mischievously and your conversation devolves back to light, playful back and forth.

But Hao doesn’t forget.

Maybe that’s the day that he decides to try and become the someone you like.

Jiwoong’s hands are on your shoulders. Zhang Hao’s not sure when that happened but he does know that he doesn’t like it.

“So my hands should go here?” You ask, patting Jiwoong's rib cage. He nods, expression completely placid and wholly focused on teaching you how to manoeuvre yourself.

“You can also put it on their waist, the director will be giving you instructions and you can monitor yourself on camera between takes as well.”

You nod thoughtfully, tentatively placing your hands on him. Zhang Hao’s fingers twitch, just a little. Most of the members who had been filtering in and out of the room seemed to have disappeared. It’s just him, you, and Jiwoong.

Which is why you decide to lean in, your face just about a few inches away from the eldest ZB1 member.

“So I just go like this?”

That’s it. Hao’s had enough. He can’t do this. He can’t watch you anymore.

“Xiào xiào?” 

Hao’s careful not to show how happy he is when you pull away from Jiwoong and look at him. His hyung must have sensed it anyway, standing up and saying he’s supposed to meet Seobin soon. You thank him for the help, he says you can text him anytime (Hao’s not sure how to feel about that one) and then he leaves the two of you alone.

“There goes my acting teacher.” You pout a little and Hao can’t help himself.

“You came here to spend time with me, not take lessons from Jiwoong-hyung.” 

“Awww, is Hào hào jealous?”

“I miss you.” He says instead of answering, hugging your side like he usually does.

You hug him back, and in a small voice, you admit.

“I’ve missed you too, Hào hào.”

There shouldn’t be anything special about the moment. You’ve done this before, hugged like this before, said things like this before. But this time, he just-

Hao pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you loosely. It’s just enough so he can see your eyes, looking at him, he can’t read you too well, he swears his heart’s beating so loudly that you can hear it. But you don’t pull away. He leans in.

His lips are soft against yours, you can feel the slightly sticky sensation of the lip balm he uses, taste a little of the tea he was drinking a while ago. It’s warm and nice and it feels perfect.

His arms slide to your waist and your fingers circle around his shoulders, holding onto the fuzzy knit fabric of his cardigan. You can smell the perfumed lotion he uses, pleasantly floral and addicting. He keeps kissing you. You keep kissing back.

Hao only stops when his heart feels like it’s going to give out, catching his breath and looking at you with your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He can’t help but ask.

“Was that a real kiss?” I like you so, so much.

“I think it was, Hào hào.” I like you too.

[jeysbvck]

there's still a thread (that runs from your body to mine)

i'm back with another fic!! this one is for the absolutely wonderful & talented zaynee, who not only sent in a prompt, but its also their day today!! happy birthday bff!!🥳❤️ i hope you enjoy this fic but enjoy your day more!!🤭

[smut, 18+, read at your own risk]

taglist; @wrestlezaynia @loki69zowens @crxssjae @nightmare-viper @paigereeder @wrestlingprincess80 @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @xtripleiiix

word count; 2.8k

summary; Kevin & Sami haven't seen - or spoke to each other for 3 months since Kevin broke it off & moved to Smackdown. That all changes when they're in the same place for the Royal Rumble, & Kevin can't take it any longer.

Sami lay on the bed, atop the sheets, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the same memory that had been on repeat in his mind for months. He didn't just see it when he closed his eyes; he saw it when he was awake too, when he wasn't occupied. Which is why he spent so much of his free time in the gym or working on ideas for his storylines, just so his brain wouldn't be free to think about Kevin. He'd even started crashing with Jey at hotels when they were booked together; the guy was always on. It never seemed quiet enough around him, and it helped Sami. Until Jey fell asleep, and Sami lay in the twin bed next to him, wide awake and his brain began to play the movie Sami hated so much.

Tonight, Sami was in his room alone, and once again, that fucking awful film started to play, and all Sami could do was watch.

"We can't do this anymore."

Kevin's words echoed around the room and into Samis’ ears, like he'd just used a blare horn to announce it. Sami thought everything was great between them. Sure, he felt Kevin pulling away slightly, but he had convinced himself he was just busy. It had been a busy time in the company, so it was a simple conclusion to draw. How hadn't Sami seen this coming? He thought he knew Kevin like the back of his hand.

“What do you mean?” Sami had asked. He'd hoped he was mistaken, that Kevin meant something else; but he knew deep down it was exactly what it sounded like. He stayed on Kevins’ chest, not wanting to move, like if he didn't move, this wouldn't happen.

“I'm going to Smackdown.” Kevin replied quietly. Now Sami was really confused. Why did Kevin going to Smackdown mean they have to break up?

“Okay, so?” Sami questioned. “We can work around that. It's only for a few weeks at the most, right?”

Kevins’ heartbeat quickened underneath Samis’ head. “No.” Kevin sighed. “I'm being traded to Smackdown because Jey came to Raw.”

“Oh.” Sami whispered. He could still feel the way his heart was splintering. “They chose you?”

“Um, they didn't exactly choose me, Sami.” Kevin told him. “I, uh- It was my idea.”

The room began to spin, Samis’ splintering heart now completely broken, he could feel the pieces stabbing him in the chest. He lifted his head off Kevin's chest and stared at the man next to him. ‘You volunteered? Why?”

Kevin stared at Sami, the glint in the red-haired man's eye that Kevin loved so much had been replaced with sadness.

“I- I need space.” Kevin replied, sighing. He knew everything would change after Wrestlemania, especially after they finally fell in bed together after hitting the highest highs of winning the tag titles on the biggest stage of the industry. Kevin had wanted this for so long and tried so hard to pretend he hadn't been in love with his best friend for years; once they had explored each other's bodies in such an intimate way, Kevin was hooked.

They never spoke about it, though. They never spoke about what it meant. They never spoke about their feelings. Both men would have a plan to do so, but whenever they were alone; it ended up in a quick make-out session, some heavy petting, and once in their shared hotel room, they couldn't hold back.

It got too much for Kevin; they seemed to be on the same page, but how could he know for sure? He was too afraid to bring it up, too afraid to vocalise that his love ran deeper than friendship. He thought this was enough, but it was weighing on him, like he was Atlas, holding up the world on his shoulders. Kevin knew Sami looked at him like he was responsible for the stars in the sky, but he also noticed that it was a running theme for Sami. He looked at everyone he cared about with so much love in his eyes that Kevin wasn't sure he was special. He needed space to breathe, and he couldn't do that around Sami. The man took his breath away every time.

“Space?” Sami repeated. He scoffed and threw the sheets off, swinging his leg off the bed. “So, you're leaving me?”

Kevin's heart fractured at those three words. It's what he was doing, right? He wanted to tell Sami that he loved him more than he could ever put into words, but that wasn't fair. He was running away, so how could he profess his love? Instead, he watched silently as Sami stood up. He took in every part of the man's naked form; if this was the way their story ended, he needed every hair, every freckle, every scar, every imperfection that made up Sami Zayn seared into his brain.

But when Sami started packing his bag and pulled the black zip-up hoodie over his shoulders, Kevin scrambled out of the bed. “Wait, Sami, what are you doing?”

Sami chuckled humourlessly. “What do you think? I can't stay here, Kev.”

“No, stop! Please!” Kevin begged, reaching out to Sami, who stepped away from the gesture. “Not like this, just one more ni-”

Sami hauled the strap of the black bag over his shoulder and shook his head. “You did this, Kev, not me.”

“I know, but-” Kevin sighed and sat back on the bed, defeated. “Where will you go?”

“I'll crash with Jey.” Sami replied, turning his back on Kevin, unaware of the tears filling his eyes. “Good luck on Smackdown.” Sami sighed. “I hope it was worth it.”

-

A loud, continuous knock on the wooden door pulled Sami out of his thoughts. It wasn't Jey. He had a very specific knock to let Sami know it was him, and he wasn't expecting anyone; so he ignored it. Until it became more frantic, and Sami groaned out loud.

“Alright, alright!” He shouted, “I'm coming!”

He made the mistake of not checking through the peephole, and he froze when he answered the door, not expecting Kevin to be standing there. It was the first time in four months that he'd lay eyes on him, at least in person, and Samis’ heart raced.

Sami knew he was going to see Kevin tonight at the Royal Rumble. Kevin was on the match card, and Sami was coming back from his break as a surprise entrant. He'd even seen Kevin backstage. He pretended he hadn't, of course, but he wasn't expecting him to be standing outside his room. Sami was very aware he was half naked, in just a pair of sweatpants, his hair still drying from his shower, and as he stared at Kevin, Sami knew Kevin was trying hard not to check him out, which made Sami blush.

“Hey.” Kevin said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Hey, man.” Sami replied. “You're not room service.”

A small smile crept on Kevins' lips, and he shrugged. “I mean, I brought a protein bar?” Kevin replied, pulling it from his pocket, and Sami let out a real laugh, the sound like music to Kevins’ ears as the smile on his face turned into a grin.

The sweet moment was fleeting as Samis’ face fell slightly, as if he'd momentarily forgotten everything that had happened. “What are you doing here, Kevin?”

“Oh, um- I-” He cleared his throat, ready to say whatever came to mind. “I just wanted to say-” He sighed, chickening out and instead saying, “Welcome back.”

Sami sighed. He didn't know what he was hoping for, but he was disappointed anyway. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

He began to close the door but was stopped by Kevins’ palm slamming against it. “Wait, please?”

Sami was instantly transported back to the last time Kevin begged him to wait, and this time, he obliged. He opened the door wider and stared expectantly. Kevin felt the pressure, still feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he refused to look away. He was finally looking into the eyes of the man he loved, and he would keep doing it for as long as he was allowed.

“Well, what do you wanna sa-?”

“I miss you.” Kevin blurted out. He watched as Samis’ demeanour changed, the way his eyes softened, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

“Kev…”

“Sami.” Kevin pleaded. “I know I said we couldn't do this anymore, but I need you. Please.”

Kevin wasn't expecting Sami to fold like a deck of cards, especially not so quickly. But he didn't know how much it took for Sami not to answer the phone when Kevin drunk dialled him or when Kevin texted him at three AM at the beginning of this whole mess. Kevin had haunted Sami this whole time, and Sami wondered if Kevin felt the same way. He thought he couldn't handle opening himself up to Kevin again, only to have to say goodbye again, but now — Sami didn't care. He needed Kevin as much as Kevin needed him.

Sami threw himself at Kevin, his lips finding where they needed to be. Kevin stiffened up, shocked, but he fell into the kiss quickly, melting into Sami as his hands fell on his naked waist, pulling him closer — not that they could get any closer.

“Are you sure?” Kevin mumbled into Samis’ mouth. Sami nodded, pulling Kevin into the room, refusing to break the embrace.

Kevin kicked the door shut, his hands gripping Samis’ waist so tight, like someone was going to take him away. But he also pulled from the kiss, and when Sami whined, Kevin chuckled. “Seriously, Sami, are you sure about this? I know I hurt yo-”

“Kevin, shut up.” Sami told him, his eyes dark with lust. “I'm sure.” 

Kevins’ eyes widened, his shorts tightening at the front as he stared at Sami, his eyebrow cocked, a shit-eating smirk on his face. Kevin licked his lips and pulled Sami back into him — hands desperately clutching at one another, pulling the other closer until their bodies were almost one.

“Why am I the only one semi naked?” Sami asked, breathlessly with Kevins’ mouth on his neck, his teeth nipping at his skin. Kevin responded by untying his shorts and pulling them as far as he could without removing his mouth from Samis’ skin. Sami helped Kevin push the shorts and his boxers down his thighs, then wrapped his long fingers around Kevins’ thick cock.

Kevin gasped into Samis’ mouth, his cock twitching under the man's touch. Sami grinned as Kevin began to rock against his hand, and he gripped his length tighter.

Kevin pushed Sami backwards, right up to the bed, before pushing him down onto the mattress. Sami looked up at him, his lustful eyes so full of love. He'd been wondering if this moment would ever come again if he would ever feel this way again, and now it was happening. He wanted to savour every moment.

Kevin seemed to have the same idea. He raked his eyes over Samis’ body as he lay below him. Noting the extra scars that he had acquired over the months they'd been apart, wondering which matches they had come from, which opponent had added to the painting on Samis’ physique. He watched Sami pull at the strings at the front of his sweatpants and buck his hips as he undressed, completely enthralled by the sight of Sami undressing for him.

He dropped to his knees and took over, pulling the black pants down and over his ankles, before running the palm of his hands up Samis' legs slowly. Sami shivered as Kevins’ hands followed the path of goosebumps up his shins, his knees, right up to his thighs. The tips of his fingers grazed the inside of Samis’ thighs, making him groan at the touch, and Kevin watched as Samis’ cock twitched. He felt his own strain against his shorts, but he ignored it. Right now, it was all about Sami and his pleasure.

He ran his hands over his thighs, lifting himself up further, watching as Samis' face contorted with pleasure. His hips bucked, begging Kevin to touch him in the place he needed the most. His fingers teased the red hair around Samis’ cock, before he slowly wrapped them around the base of his cock. Sami groaned, rutting against Kevins’ hand, throwing his back as Kevin took most of Sami in his mouth.

“Fffffuck, Kevin!”

Kevins’ hands found Samis’ balls, and he massaged them as he let Sami fuck his mouth, his tongue swirling around every bit of the erection it could touch.

“Kev, oh fuck, you're gonna make me-”

Kevin pushed Samis’ cock further into his mouth, and when his thighs gripped Kevins’ head, he grasped his cock with one hand, pumping it with the same rhythm his mouth was making. “Kev, fuck, please!”

Kevin pulled his mouth off Sami, spit threading from Samis’ cock to Kevins’ lips, Sami almost orgasming at the sight alone. “Kev, I need you.”

Kevin bit his bottom lip as he hovered over Sami, the desire shared between both of them. They could see the love the other had in their eyes, and it was clear to the two of them that this was It. Even before the first time, Sami had been head over heels for Kevin. There was always something between them, an invisible red string tying them to each other. The past three months had been hell on Earth, and now it was Heaven.

Kevin inched his face towards Samis’, and Sami sat up, meeting Kevin halfway. The kiss was soft, delicate like butterfly wings, but it soon became more intense — deeper, their tongues almost battling for dominance. Kevin reluctantly pulled away, but the whine that slipped Samis’ lips was worth it. Kevin smirked as he ran his thumb over the ginger man's bottom lip, before he dragged it over his chin and down to his neck, to his collarbone, flicking his nipple before he slipped the hand in between their legs.

Kevin wrapped his hand around his own cock, pumping a couple of times before he positioned himself at Samis’ entrance. He arched his eyebrow, and Sami nodded.

“I need you.” Sami repeated, and Kevin leaned down to kiss him once again as he slowly eased himself into Sami. The redhead was tight, and Kevin moaned, forcing himself to go slow, not to cause Sami even more pain than he might already be experiencing.

“Fuck, Sami, you feel so good around me.” Kevin groaned, making Sami pull the bigger man in by the neck for a kiss. As Sami eased into the motion, he raised his hips, finding a rhythm against Kevins’ own thrusts. Soon, their moans were in sync with their actions, their kiss slow as they rocked against each other.

“Kev…” Sami breathed, his head rolling backwards as Kevin peppered his throat with kisses. “I missed you so much.”

“Sami, oh fuck, I missed you too.” Kevin replied. “So. Fucking. Much.”

Sami groaned, his nails digging into Kevins’ shoulder blades as their thrusts became quicker. “Kev, please, I'm gonna-”

“Sami, oh, fuck. Come for me.” Kevin whispered against Samis’ neck, his hand grabbing Samis’ cock. Sami bucked and moaned loudly as he came undone, Kevin following after a few more thrusts as his name spilled from Sami.

Kevin pulled out and rolled off Sami as he wiped the curls from his forehead. Sami then turned to Kevin and pushed his head under his arm.

“So…” Sami said, closing his eyes as Kevin traced patterns on his bicep. “So,” Kevin repeated.

“Does this mean you changed your mind?” Sami asked quietly.

Sami felt Kevins’ chest rise and fall under him, and he braced himself for the reply. He had always thought he knew Kevin like the back of his hand, but he'd found out the hard way that he might not.

“I changed my mind when I was…you know, breaking it off.” Kevin confessed. “I didn't want to do it, I thought I needed to do it.”

Sami inhaled, and he put his on Kevins’ chest as he pushed himself up. “I understand, sort of.” Sami replied. “I wish you'd just talked to me, though.”

“I know, and I'm so fucking sorry, Sami.” Kevin said, resting his hand atop of Samis’.

“It's okay,” Sami nodded, squeezing his hand against Kevins as he laced their fingers together. “I forgive you, Mon Coeur.”

Sami touched his lips to Kevins softly, smiling at the way Kevin held Samis’ cheek. When he pulled away, Kevin pulled Sami in, their foreheads pressed together. “Je t'aime, Sami.”

Sami smiled and placed his head back on Kevins chest, closing his eyes. He was sure he could feel his heart repairing itself, and he knew that he and Kevin could get through this.

“Je t'aime, Kevin.”

[reivrze]

hi, miyu! i just found your blog today and INSTANT FOLLOW! i'm in awe because of your beautiful writings; the way you described the scenes like in the jay one, it gave me butterflies fr 😍🦋✨️i also appreciate and love that you spent your time putting cute and aesthetically pleasing designs in each of your content, it's so cute 💓💓💓

also, i see that you are accepting requests? if it's okay with you, can i request headcanons/reactions (whichever you think is better and easier to write) of how enha would show their support when their partners want to try something new? like picking up on new hobbies such as signing up for dancing classes, learning foreign languages and etc.? i'm currently picking up on a few new things myself and have been struggling to keep consistent 🤧 i hope you're having a great day and please stay safe and keep hydrated! 🙆🏻‍♀️

a/n : this is such a cute requests >.< the fact that this is my first ever request makes me so happy oml. legit called my friends bcuz i got excited ㅠㅠ i chose to go for a headcanons format since its what i find easier to do at the moment, so i hope you're satisfied :) i had a hard time coming up with what to write for heeseung and niki tbh lmao

pairing: enhypen x gender neutral!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none really

m.list !

— heeseung would find this new interest as a way to spend more time with you, with his overload of work, he'd want to pick up on whatever you do on your free time to be able to make up for all the times he had to reschedule a date because of work. this new hobby would definitely a bonding experience for the two of you.

rest of the members under the cut !

— jay would be the type to show his full support to anything you'd like to try, he wouldn't be able to hide his admiration. if your new hobby was something you did at home, like drawing or writing, he'd sit next to you and just watch you with those lovey dovey eyes he gets around you. but he also has this need to take care of you and makes sure you're balancing self-care and working.

— jake would be slightly competitive but not in a bad way! he'd want to try whatever you were trying out or get super curious about the lessons you'd be starting or the activity you were starting. he'd ask a lot of questions, trying to involve himself as much as he could and show his full support for you :)

— sunghoon isn't the best communicator, he gets shy whenever confronted to his feelings towards you, so his way of showing support would be through little actions and gifts. if you were starting new lessons, he'd write you a little good morning letter and wish you the best for your day. you can expect flowers on the kitchen counter for you when you get back home ( AHHH MY HEART &lt;3 )

— sunoo is your BIGGEST cheerleader !! i can't stop emphasizing the fact that this boy would literally be there for you through every step of whatever you were trying. he is on a mission to not let you give up. if you were attending new classes, he'd hide little notes in your notebooks giving you motivating words. just overall your own personal cheerleader

— jungwon's love towards you sometimes translates as him basically mothering you. he's very supportive of your choices and wants you to succeed but he can't help the need to want to make sure you're doing okay. this includes him having to physically pull you away from your work to take a break and eat something, to force you into drinking the required amount of water per day, and picking you up and putting you in bed to make sure you get enough sleep.

— niki likes to pretend he's fully grown and is able to do anything so when you told him you were starting a new activity, he became overly confident and would challenge you to who could have a better result (this is if your new hobby is something like drawing). other than his slight competitiveness, he loves to see you so determined to accomplish something and would find you working adorable.

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarise my work anywhere !

[cellard0ors]

Eventually they go back to his place.

It’s a tiny walk up above a bagel shop, so the scent of freshly baked bread is overpowering, but not unpleasant.

Travis’s home is small and mostly barren. It’s as if he couldn’t think of any decorations to have, so he just didn’t bother. It’s full of nothing but practicalities – sofa, television, coffee table and the appropriate appliances.

Laura walks around wearing Travis’s police coat.

He always has it in his squad car just in case he needs it. Today, he needed it. It’s not exactly long enough to cover her, but it hides the bulk of her nudity.

However, she does find herself tugging on it, doing her best to hide the parts its poor at concealing – mainly her exposed privates and her ass.

Travis, for his part, keeps an eye out for any potential onlookers. He also shields her from view as much as possible. Once in his home, however, she relaxes considerably,

It makes him grin, feeling like a predator who has just caught their prey off guard. But he’s not going to attack just yet, still more concerned with her basic needs, “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

She shakes her head in the negative and looks around, fingers dancing over his book shelves. It looks like she’s reading a few titles before moving on into his kitchen.

She spots some childish drawings with magnets holding them in place on the refrigerator – the only artwork she’s seen. There’s one that is – most likely - supposed to be Travis, a child’s handwriting above the clunky figure reading ‘Unkl Travus’.

The other picture has a different art style – this clearer, albeit no less immature. Each of the figures depicted in crayon have names labeled above their heads: Grammie, Pappy, Daddy, Mommy, Uncle Bobby, Uncle Travis, my brother, me.

Laura looks at both thoughtfully and Travis feels a little sheepish as he admits, “Yeah – the kids made those. Y’know, back when they were little. Caleb made this one. Kaylee here.”

He points to each in turn and Laura lets out a hefty breath, “They mean so much to you…”

Travis knows where this is going, “They do. But that doesn’t mean I regret my decision. I chose you. I’d choose you again. Don’t feel guilty about it.”

“Hard not to.” Laura turns so she can look directly at him, “I did appreciate their efforts…the children, in trying to free Silas. But after I got free during the fire and saw he’d bitten Caleb, we had to go. Again, I couldn’t trust-!”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Laura.” Travis huffs, “If anyone understands trust issues – it’s me.”

Laura nods and looks away from the pictures, “Still…wish we could have gotten the bone. Not to mention I now have no idea where Silas has gotten off to. I’m his guardian, his family, I watch out for him. Knowing he’s out there all alone…”

“Hey,” Travis tugs her forward, hugging her, “We’ll find him. Okay? We’ll fix this. Together.”

She nods, but he feels her burrow deeper into his chest. The way she’s doing so…it’s as if she’s starving for his touch, desperate for it.

What must it have been like for her? No doubt she’d been cooped up in some enclosed fish tank, a prison, always on display for gawking onlookers who doubted her authenticity or, even worse, poked fun at her for it.

…for fuck’s sake, even HE’D called her the ‘fish’ girl…

The thought makes his blood boil, but he just focuses on how good she feels in his arms. However, she eventually breaks away, asking softly, “Um…can I shower? I know that probably seems weird to ask after all the time we spent in the lake, but-!”

“No, it’s not strange.” He kisses her forehead, “Not if you need it.”

Laura’s lips twitch, “No more glasses, but still a cheesy dork.”

“I wear contacts now.”

“Mmm, do you?” she asks in good humor and Travis has to admit, he’s never felt this good himself. The more the memories settle in and the sharper they become, the more he realizes why he’s always felt so adrift.

Laura brought so much into his life – a sense of adventure and fun, things he’d never received from anyone else. True, he had good moments with both of his siblings, but neither of them compared to those days and nights he spent growing up alongside this girl – this woman.

After all, Laura may look like she’s in her twenties, but she’s truly closer to his own age and this thought sobers him some. What if he’s not good enough for her now? As old as he is.

She deserve a full life – a better one. He can only give her the time he has left. But, in so many ways, that’s better than no time at all and – while knowingly selfish – he wants that.

He wants her.

Travis hopes she wants it too, wants him too, and he promised her nothing but pleasure from here on out. A pleasure he plans to deliver as he gamely escorts her to his restroom with its glass encased shower.

A shower big enough for two.

A fact she’ll learn soon enough,

But, for now, he goes about innocently showing her the knobs and giving her toiletries and towels. Travis leaves the room and, as the shower head clicks on, he grins wickedly.

He’ll give ger a few minutes alone.

And then it’s ready for not, here he comes…

[supercantaloupe]

happy sleepover saturday!! hope your day’s been treating you okay friend <3 some sleepover questions for you: what characters are living rent free in your mind these days? if a small songbird landed on your head what would you do? and do you have any favorite pens/pencils? (also sola farmer's market update bc for some reason you're always the person i want to tell abt them: i didn't go this week but apparently the indoor market in my neighborhood just got a jewish deli stall? i am very excited)

happy sleepover saturday! i had a good lesson and got some spinach from the farmers market this morning which was nice, but most of the rest of the day i spent curled up in my room with a migraine :(

right now taking up the most real estate in my brain are don giovanni leporello and donna elvira from the opera don giovanni (rotating around in there like shawarma). but i've also been thinking abt the celestine secrets crew today...i miss them...

ough my favorite pens. i have a shiny teal fountain pen that i got as a birthday gift in highschool, currently filled with red ink but i change colors every semester or so. i use this pen for nearly all of my notetaking at school because i find that writing with a fountain pen is much less taxing on my hand than a pencil or ballpoint for long periods of time, especially important now that i'm playing EH more regularly (the instrument is quite heavy and its weight rests almost entirely on my writing hand, which is a lot of strain on the wrist/thumb). my fave ballpoint pen is this cool metal and wood one i got from a lathe worker at a local crafts fair. the body is made from turned poison ivy wood (totally safe to handle, since it's stripped of the usual oils that cause skin irritation)! i used to have a cool turned wood mechanical pencil from the same guy but it got lost :( generally i just like to use any mechanical pencil for writing and drawing. i like the papermate ones, they have a decent grip on them.

[ask meme]

[tekni-kali]

Day 225

09:57p, Saturday, June 09, 2023

Uhm....soooo 176 days since I typed out a post for the blog. Coooooolll.....I made my way back...eventually? Let us see how long I stick around this time. I would like to try my best to make something somewhat consistent.

We'll see...

I revived my iPod Mini today. I took a picture of my desk and thought it looked neat, so that's kind of what brought me back here...Here's the picture:

Things I see:

Apple iPod Mini

Left Nintendo Switch Joycon

Nintendo 3DS XL

Laptop

USB Extender adaptor thingie

Cup of Pens

Digital Pen for computer graphic drawing doodles

Christmas lights plug

My Cup!

4 stickers of my art

Hollow Knight stickers from amazon

The desk mat

the hdmi splitter button

Warm ikea lamp

Monitor stand!

Okay...thats enough of the things I see in the picture. I like the idea of using the iPod mini again. I wore it on the walk to 7/11 and it worked out really nicely clipped to my shirt and holding the bag in place....I didn't have to fiddle with it at all!! The one thing I may try to investigate to replace for improvement is the headphone/earbud situation. These hot pink jlab beauties were on clearance for eight fiddy at the local wal greens. The bass is distorted but the noise isolation is nice.

Now I am curious as to whether there is a bluetooth adaptor that I can connect my earbuds to then plug the 3.5mm into the ipod to play through it....

That's what I'll look up next. I'll come back in a bit maybe.

-10:05p

10:25p -

Well...that was fun. I didn't look that up yet but I did want to come back and write a bit about my day...so maybe I'll try to do that?

I washed the dishes. I did a driveby someones house to pick up free chairs from their front lawn. I panicked and drove away....then came home and re-arranged my music files and revived the iPod. I collected Behb from work we'd made plans to go to the state park again....by the time we left the house we would've gotten there at 4 and the park closes at 5:30.....traffic was very bad because of all the holiday events. They had every turn around closed so I essentially just spent 30ish minutes driving around what normally should be a 5 minute square. I was very annoyed.

When we got home I boiled two eggs, fucked up peeling one of them and just threw it away. Then Behb suggested an idea for an activity...popcorn and movie night! He didn't think we had popcorn, I told him there was some in the pantry....it was too expired to eat so we walked down to the gas station and bought a bag to pop deciding along the way that we'd watch Die Hard....cuz...christmas movie - holiday festivities and what not.

I strung up lights last night! First I stuck the command strips to the glass on the window and they didn't stay....then I stuck them to the wall and clipped one of the three wires in there and they haven't fallen down yet! I also strung some over the picture and hung up the two christmas arts his family gave us last year...those combined with the christmas tree wax warmer and we're officially festive!

But newai....

When we returned home, we learned that Die Hard isn't streaming on any of the streamy services we have, and we didn't want to pay $3.99 to rent it once.....so I started scrolling....and suggested: Scooby Doo Movie (2002ish) or Jumanji (1995 w/ Robin Williams).

Behb popped the corn, brought a beer, and picked Jumanji. Turns out....ITSA CHRISTMAS MOVIE TOO! At least...Christmas was in it....so...that counts. I honestly don't think I'd seen it before...but it was a good watch and I was entertained so I'm glad it worked out.

Tomorrow is Behbiversary! It will be 4 years since we swiped n started conversing. I am glad we are progressioning together. I'm going to look for strawberries and chocolates for us to make after he's off tomorrow. He got me roses ^_^. Okay...gonna go click around...I think I'll be back soon...I think I want to add some more...but a break now would be nice. So...ye...brb

-10:34p

10:35p-

You know...I just thought...I can probably use the 3.5mm aux cord to plug the Mini into the JBL Flip....then I get iPod muzik on loud speaker....that will be a tomorrow try...I do want to get up for my earbuds now though....IDK, it just seems silly using it in the apt.

10:45p-

I got my earbuds! and found sum muzik:

I think I'll get some screenshots off the switch to post up here. I think I decided I don't want to put pictures in this post...but I"ll work on organizing them to post separately like I did before....but...ye...this seems long enough...so...I'm gonna post it now.

Catch ya later!

-10:46p

[keefwho]

October 30 - 2023 Monday

3:06pm

Still thinking about what I want to do with myself to start changing something. I think constantly trying to express myself is a good first direction. Its just barely started helping me get a grip on who I am and made me feel a little free like I used to. First and foremost anything I feel is valid and my wants are appropriate, until I determine they aren't. I guess I'm trying to take a sort of "innocent until proven guilty" kind of approach with myself because I'm too used to shooting myself down right away. This is a sort of extreme opposite response.

Its hard to know when to act on something. I can't constantly keep trying to figure things out because it gets tiring and inefficient. Maybe it's every time I feel stressed/sorrowful which is unfortunately very often because I feel like my problems go deep. Maybe every time I feel like writing or talking about it means I can do something to address my current state. I know I want to do acting more than talking, I've fallen into the talking trap. I know I used Daisy to feel better under the guise that a "talk" will help but it usually doesn't. The occasional emotional support is healthy but I've caught myself wanting to talk basically all the time like she's my therapist. It's not fair to her and not effective for me so I will be cognizant of that moving forward. That being said, there are some things I think I do want to talk with her about as long as I can confirm to myself that it is actually needed and I'm not just overcommunicating. I intend to do this right because I care about whatever is going on between us. Dare I say it's one of my top 3 priorities.

I feel afraid to admit that sometimes because I'm reminded of a previous dynamic where the other party was so interested in me but I wasn't reciprocating in the way they wanted. In my case it made me distance from them even more because I got more and more uncomfortable. But I sorta led them on because I didn't want to let them down and at the same time I was convincing myself that I wanted to be there. But I didn't. So I have unfounded fears that I am that same position but I'm the one caring too much and pushing her away. It's the only experience I have which kinda sucks.

8:17pm

Another evening spent feeling a little forgotten. I don't have any reason to on the surface and I know that. But I feel like this a lot and that's okay. As long as I come to terms with it I can figure out how I want to proceed. I'm just so tired of every day being a fight. Its like nothing can be good. Even if things are, I assume they aren't going to last and catastrophe is just around the corner. I so rarely feel okay anymore.

10:46pm

I don't really wanna talk about my day right now but I'll at least summarize. I have lots of weird feelings right now and way too much on my mind.

Breakfast was a jimmy dean sandwich and rice. I had to go to the store to pick up some water and soda and my weekend drinks but they were out of water. Mom was supposed to pick some up for me when they got more in today but she must have forgot. I'll live as long as I get it tomorrow. Stream went well. I remember doing Inktober well and the commission. I ran out of things to work on though because I needed responses from people but I worked the rayman meme thing I had with Daisy's horse.

Afterwards I did my workout well, I was a monster on the treadmill. Also cleaned up just a bit before showering again. I took care of myself while I was at it which made me late to lunch. Lunch was some more homemade soup I've been making lately. Its a really good meal, especially after a workout. Since there was no way to stick to my usual schedule, I made sure to revise it and stick to the new times all day. I got the request done quickly and finished that rayman pic before moving onto a drawing of Zipp I had on my desktop. Afterwards I played some Cities, some dungeons, and watched Twitch kinda on and off. I took care of myself again because I was stressed out I guess and wanted a distraction. Daisy called at bedtime and we chatted just a little bit before she fell asleep.

I think I want to make this blog only about recounting what happened on a given day and I might make a new one for my deepest darkest feelings. If I do that it might be on a different website and totally anonymous. I should probably just have a physical journal to write in or a notepad file or something but I do want them to be maybe potentially witnessed by strangers. I just want to be seen in a way. But since I'll be dumping some pretty heavy and specific stuff it's gotta stay extra secret.

[fish-and-forbear]

Feeling sooooooooo much better than we were before, oh my gosh....

So glad that I have as-needed anxiety medicine set aside and that I am in a really, really good place in my life to be figuring all of this out. I think if Grist + co. had appeared sooner, or I dealt with them completely on my own, it wouldn't have been so good.

It hasn't.... been perfect either, not by a long shot but. I'd like to think it's been good. I'd like to think we're doing a lot more good than bad. I sure hope so. c:>

Learning a LOT of things about ourselves in a VERY short span of time. But it's good. It's wonderful. I feel immense catharsis and I have some exciting things I want to do and work on. SO many drawings I want to make!!!!!!! I was already on a real art streak these past couple months and I can't wait to keep going!!!!!!!!!! Maybe I'll actually share it here, too? I'm not sure yet. I get nervous about posting my art because of art theft and such but. Maybe it would be nice to share some things.

And SO EXCITED for my friend to finish this text editor config of emacs for us!!!!! :D It was originally for my own worldbuilding, research, and dnd needs but I realized it would be the perfect outlet for the guys to get their thoughts/feelings out. I hope journaling will be good for them. Grist spent a couple hours today being very thoughtful and wrote the poem that I pinned.

I am so proud of him. I think it's beautiful but he's a little shy about it, which is...sort of sweet... c:>

He wants to keep writing and has enjoyed it so far. His head seems to feel very "clear" when he is really "in the zone" with writing and thinking, and I am. So impossibly proud of him for trusting himself to be kind, gentle, and wise. He IS all of those things, but he feels like he loses touch with that and it frustrates him. I understand. I was the same way, for most of my life. He just needs to realize that he gets to choose the kind of person he wants to be. He will learn how to hold his emotions and fears, feel the edges and pain and passionate feelings, and realize that he can put them down if he wants to. He feels like he can't, that in the moment he doesn't feel physically capable of being anything else than panicked/afraid/depressed/etc. and I understand that. But he will learn that he can choose what he wants to feel. He does not have to be trapped in a spiral. He absolutely HAS felt other emotions and I have SEEN how wickedly clever, funny, thoughtful, gentle, wise, and clear-headed he can be.

He just needs to learn how to put things down and when to restart. Just like I did. And continue to learn how to improve. c:>

I am hoping that having journaling and art will help him a lot. And making a clear, defined list of coping skills and grounding tools he can reference when he feels "stuck." Hoping it will get easier as I get more in control when he is stumbling, too. I think I "freeze" when he panics, because it is a trigger to me, which makes it worse.... but realizing that I can actually stop the "loop" and that we can absolutely take breaks whenever we want is extremely freeing. <3 <3

And honestly, it's not something I expected Grist, of all people, to be able to teach me.

It's something that I've struggled with my whole life and I know I am getting so much better at it, especially comparing myself to Grist who absolutely sucks at it... bless his heart... x3 But. Something about... having a name, body, person to these feelings makes me feel. So much more determined to help him, and help myself, help us realize these things. That we are allowed to let go of guilt, fear, thought loops. We can just put them down and come back later, or not at all. And if there's a real problem, we can fix it, because that's what we do as mature, responsible adults. c:>

And... he's also helped me realize that sometimes... sometimes people aren't ready for certain things, and that's okay.

That doesn't mean it wasn't special while it lasted. It is... definitely something that I've spent the past few years slowly processing, after the end of my own 8 year relationship with someone I loved (and love) very, very much. That person is still in my life, but in a different, healthier, more distanced way. That person has also helped me realize that...relationships come in many forms. And that is wonderful.

I don't know how to describe it.

Grist realizing that he doesn't need a sexual partnership/devotion to feel happy/fulfilled in the type of relationship he wants. Yes what he wants is... maybe a little stranger than a conventional friendship, but that makes sense for him. His people were...a special bunch. And the camaraderie that he shared with them resonates with me, as well. It's something I ALSO needed to hear, I think.

That we can pick and choose exactly what we want and need and that is wonderful. I don't know why we were both so foolish as to not see that that is alright to do.

And for me... being honest with myself, and those that I care about so deeply, that sometimes something can be impossibly beautiful, joyous, kind, gentle, and lifechanging (in a great way!) but also needs space to breathe. Sometimes that means a LOT of space. And that is okay. Sometimes that means regrouping later (like my friendship with my ex-partner, where we are now better friends in the past 3 years than the other 10 that we knew each other!!! c:) and sometimes maybe not. And that's okay too. c:>

I am just..... so relieved. So RELIEVED beyond words that we didn't ruin it. We really didn't. We're going to be okay and we did the right thing. I know we did. And even today, I am just.... so happy..... I am so happy with the way things are, right now... I am so so so so so so so so relieved. <3 <3 <3 <3

Even if it changes more, even if.... if Grist or Neumes can't talk someday and we aren't together anymore, or our friendships change or disappear entirely, or our memories fade and we forget, that's okay. It's going to be okay. Because these things still happened and it was beautiful and we were here. <3

[visualpractitioner]

How gratitude can get you there

Let’s start this day out with a simple thank you…to ourselves. In this video, I walk you step-by-step how to make yourself a simple thank you card—because gratitude isn’t just about having appreciation for what we have. It’s also about loving who we are.

Here in the US, many are gathering with family and friends this week to celebrate Thanksgiving. Some observe the holiday tradition, but to others, the holiday is a only a reminder of oppression experienced by Native Americans.

One thing is for sure, we can choose to have gratitude for what we have and the friends and family we share our lives with, in this moment. How will you be observing this holiday?

Today, 11/22/2022 marks a special day. If you have followed me for a few years, I usually share some of the resources I use to plan for the coming year. My process starts back on August 1, for Lammas, the cross quarter day between the Summer Solstice and the Fall Equinox. It’s observed as the first harvest day when the sun and earth come together to ripen the crops. That’s the day I begin taking stock of all that I have learned in the year, reflect on all the goodness and observe what died on the vine. What will I winnow and sift? What will I store as nourishment through the winter? And what seeds can I take with me into my dreams for the winter solstice—the solar new year?

Sure I help organizations with their year-end-reviews and strategic planning. I even support artists in 1:1s for vision setting and creating decision models so they can live successful art lives.

But I also do the deep inner work it takes to be successful and have the resilience to keep going even when I fail.

I’ve spent this year being of service to others and building bridges between 3 areas of my work/career.

Here are the tools I’m using to help get me there:

Appreciative Resilience

SHIFT-IT Visual Process

Camp Draw More

My secret? Making these a priority and carving out the time!

Building Resilience with Appreciative Inquiry

A Leadership Journey through Hope, Despair, and Forgiveness Joan McArthur-Blair and Jeanie Cockell

Please consider purchasing it through your favorite local bookstore. It’s also available in audio. Click here for the excerpt.

I had the pleasure of taking the Appreciative Resilience Facilitation Training at the Center for Appreciative Inquiry from Joan and Jeanie earlier this fall and it was life-changing for me. I went in hoping to find a way to forgive a family member and came out not only being successful there, but found how to embody and maintain equanimity in all areas of my life. I’m also bringing visuals into the mix. If you take any of my live, online courses, you will be experiencing a visual, customized version of the ALIVE model this month and next as part of my way of saying thank you and as part of my practicum for certification.

SHIFT-IT™ Visual Coaching Process

Earlier this year I took Christina Merkley’s SHIFT-IT Retreat as a repeater—a benefit from having taken it before and being a certified coach. Shortly after I participated in both the free Satsangs and her paid course. Both were deeply impactful.

Then this fall I participated in the retreat again with my husband, Ray. The process never gets old for me, but it does change—it deepens.

I remember the first time I went through the SHIFT-IT process. I wrote things down, then found one of the maps 6 months later and found that everything I wrote down, happened! Then I did it again, and again. SHIFT-IT has been a big part of every career change, big move, setting career aspirations like: 2 European Lettering Tours and a World Tour, building online platforms from which to teach, a yearlong, cross-country road trip, and more. But more importantly, it has helped me with deep shifts in my thinking, being, and personal development. The past few years for me have been about becoming okay with my physical limitations and feeling into my life’s purpose and understanding.

As a certified SHIFT-IT coach, I help others by using visual maps to help them see where they are and where they want to go. You can download the FOCUS on ME map here. If you are interested in additional support, we can set up a free 25-minute Crossroads call to determine your best next steps: a mini-retreat, customized journey, or full 17-map experience.

Camp Draw More

While Lettering and Tech Hosting are key pieces in my body of work, I’ve carved those paths and continue to pave the way for others who want to learn these critical skills.

I got my first career break by incorporating visuals into my work. And an early role model of mine was Brandy Agerbeck of www.Loosetooth.com. Her Brandyfesto is what first inspired my integration work I do in November.

I went on to read both of her books:

The Graphic Facilitator’s Handbook

The Idea Shapers

I even gathered a bunch of my colleagues and together we took the 90-day Agerbeck Method.

Now I am returning back full-circle by participating in Camp Draw More this year. So far I have deepened my drawing skills, am reminded of all of areas that need to be balanced as a visual thinker, and am working on my “every man” while graphic recording.

With AI at the core of everything I do, I have a repeatable, scalable approach to my work.

What resources have you found valuable this year to support your growth and keep you on track?

What are you appreciative of and grateful for? I’d love to know!

Appreciatively, Heather

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll unlock the door.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is an understatement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[strawberrywritingfiction]

Golf Outing

Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k 

Synopsis: Invited by he and his family, you go golfing with Tom

^^^

       You were sat at the dinner table among the Holland family members. Having met the twins, Harry and Sam through friends, and having had brief interactions with Tom, the eldest- You were invited as more or less a family friend. At least, the boys’ parents were interested in you, and in the exchanges you’d had with the boys through work and mutual connections. Plus, you thought you were a relatively pleasing house guest. Nothing abnormal about it, you thought.

“You play any golf Y/n?” Harry asked you, amidst the dinner conversations.

The rest of the boys’ heads snapped up at the question posed by Harry, most of the bunch being avid golfers and all.

“Well, sort of. But I’m nowhere up to the boys’ level.” You said with a laugh.

“You should join us for a round Y/n, we’re having a go at the nearby course tomorrow,” Tom said with a smile.

“Yeah, just a casual one, for extra practice.” Sam chimed in.

“I really couldn’t. Can’t even remember the last time I held a club - I’d have to practice in advance to get remotely close to being able to play you all.”

“Nonsense,” said Dom, “We’d love to have you join- and you wouldn’t even have to play if you’re not up for it. You can just have a few hits at the range down there, If you’d like.”

Finding it difficult to say no, and feeling Tom’s gaze held on you, you impulsively agreed to join.

This brought you to where you were now- driving mid afternoon on a Sunday, having just been to a sports store trying to pick up an appropriate looking golf outfit that fit the course’s, ‘formal attire requirement.’ Along with purchasing various balls and tees. Thankfully though, you hand a spare set of clubs at home.

Upon arriving, you met the boys in cheerful spirits, clad in their golf attire. Prepped and ready for play. So, you and the Holland clan got out on the green quickly. First hole, and your driver shot was unmistakably crap. You were glad the boys hadn’t winced at the horrible shot. You tried to play off the embarrassment with conversation between hits when being driven in the cart. The boys had 2 carts out. You sat alongside Harry and Sam in one. Tom in the other with their dad.

1st shot on the second hole though, and it was equally as bad as your previous. But luckily, the boys were distracted and missed the poorly executed swing. Finally after arriving at the beginning of the third hole, however, you stepped up to the tee, and hesitated.

“Listen guys, I think I’ll step out on this one- maybe head back, or tag along for the rest, but I think I’m out on playing. Don’t want to hold you guys back,” you said with a light chuckle. You definitely had the highest score of the bunch, and you were aware that the boys were just being polite, waiting for you to hit your past chipping shots and putts, as you were moving at a slower speed than the rest of them. Then again, they could practically be pros.

“You’re not holding us back, this is all good fun, so there’s no worries if you do continue. Otherwise, one of the boys can step out of the game and join you up in the cart, to go back to the front.” Dom said, looking to his sons. The twins made no effort to offer, which was fair, as they were in front with the lowest scores. But, to your surprise, Tom offered.

“I’d be happy to, I’ve been playing a shit game anyway,” Tom said with a laugh, placing his club back in his bag and hoisting it on his shoulder, “Only, I’d be willing to play with you on the rest of the holes for practice, If you’d be up for it. I’d... I’d Like to help improve your game.”

“My game?”

“Yeah, I think with some slight improvements to that swing of yours, you could be looking decent.”

You scoffed, “You sure? I don’t think you’ve noticed, but if you continue on with just me, you’ll be here for another few hours.”

“Time well spent.” Tom said with a smile.

The rest of the boys wished you well as they drove off to continue playing, leaving you and Tom with the remaining cart.

“Right well, you have a go first.”

“Alright,” you said, fishing through your bag for a wood club.

Interrupting as you removed one from it’s bag, Tom said, “Er- hold on, let me check.”

He too dug through your clubs before picking another one- “I reckon this one here’s a good fit,” he said, handing it to you.

“Ok then, I trust you,” You said, stepping up to the tee, “you got any other tips Holland?”

“Maybe. Give me a practice swing and we’ll take it from there,” he said, stepping back from your side.

You did as you were told, and Tom kindly gave you his input.

“Right well- this arm,” he said motioning to his own, “you’ve gotta keep that straight even on impact, no getting flimsy elbows before making contact with the ball there.”

You were trying to correct yourself, copying his directions, but upon your confusion, Tom walked up behind you to help demonstrate. “Okay so this arm,” he started, his hands gripping both of your own from behind, “You’ve gotta keep it like this through your back swing,” he said, drawing your arms back behind your shoulder. You couldn’t help but loose brief focus as he gave his directions soft spoken from behind.

He stepped back to examine your practice swing, “right that looks better, but uh- may I.”

“Go for it,” You said.

“Right, so-“ he placed his hands on either side of your hips “-you wanna kind of turn your body this direction, and move the opposite knee forward as you do.” You did just as you were told.

After the few tips, and Tom was satisfied with your practice technique and form, you took the swing, proving to have a much better result.

“See? That’s so much better! Your swing will be looking like Tiger Woods’ in no time, I bet it,”

You laughed, “All thanks to you Coach.”

Next, Tom stepped up to take his own swing. You watched, and to no surprise his form was practically perfect, landing him a nice spot on the green. You complimented his swing as the two of you hopped in the cart to head over to the next ball.

You drove the cart, and the cart rides throughout the day gave the two of you an opportunity to talk. Also, on each hole Tom continued to give you tips. You admired that he was so patient, and never got frustrated with you, or exasperated if you didn’t happen to pick up his directions quickly. He claimed you significantly improved by the end of the day. Surely enough though, by the time you got out of the course, the rest of the Holland’s had left, and it was practically dark.

The two of you carried your clubs to the car park, utterly exhausted. What was meant to be casual, fun and quick, felt as if it were never-ending.

“You got a ride Tom? You asked.

“Shit, well- no, really. Harry and Sam must have taken my car back to our shared apartment,”

“I’m happy to drop you off- least I can do. You practically gave me lessons for free today, forfeited your game too.”

“Nah, It was good fun, and I’d prefer to have forfeited than to have lost another game to those twats this month,” he chuckled.

The two of you continued to chat, and on the car ride home you both stopped for some takeout at a drive-through, seeing as now it was dark and neither of you had had anything for dinner.

You thanked Tom again once whilst dropping him off, “I’d love to do this again, actually,” he said, fumbling with the strap of his bag of clubs slung over his shoulder.

“I don’t think I’m up to anymore golf for a while,” You said, with an awkward laugh.

“Well, we won’t do golf again then,” he smiled, “maybe just a dinner.”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. Saying good night, you left to head home and upon arriving, you immediately began to receive messages from the rest of the boys.

* Sam H - Already, he won’t shut up about you 😐 9:37 pm.

* Harry H - 10 bucks said he’d be too much of a wuss to ask you out before the end of tonight and I lost 🙄 9:41 pm.

^^^

[jikook-yoonmin-trash]

YOONGI X READER (DIRTY IMAGINE)

Rating: E for Explicit

No one asked for this but I'll deliver anyways. I know I'm not consistent but I'm trying to be committed to something to stay sane. Lets go.

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Yoongi had been locked in his studio all week. Being the perfectionist that he was, you knew it would take a miracle to get him out of there. He was working on a new Hip Hop piece with some foreign artist and it stirred something inside, deep and longing. You knew he was passionate and you knew how much he wanted to get this done.

But seeing him so focused and concentrated at the small window of time you visited stirred something in you, deep and longing. Your relationship with him hadn't always been physical, he sought after comfort and companionship, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't turn you on.

Especially on days where he wear shirts that dipped to low, or days where he came straight from his schedule with Bangtan- fully decked out from head to toe with perfect hair and accessories for days.

Like right now for instance.

You weren't sure who was sitting in front of you; Min Yoongi, Suga or Agust D. Whomever it was, you were ready to please.

"Got you some coffee and snack."

Yoongi took a break from writing to look up at you with a little smile. Cute. His hair was pushed back and he looked so devastatingly handsome that for a second you forgot that he was yours, and you forgot to breathe. You couldn't help but notice the thick silver rings on his fingers as he reached for the coffee. You've always had a thing for his hands.

"Thank you babe, wanna sit for a while?" Yoongi asked, looking up at you from mid sip.

With his legs sprawled out like that, it seemed like an invitation- open and inviting. The material of his pants were thick but you could make out the outline of his legs just fine. Perfect legs. Perfect seat.

Feeling bold, you rushed forward and found yourself sitting between his legs. His hands were immediately around you with the gentle sound of his laughter.

"You did say sit." You teased, leaning into his warm chest.

"I did."

Yoongi hummed and swiveled the chair to face his computer. With the coffee set aside and his hands occasionally clicking the keys on his laptop, you both fell into a comfortable silence. Yoongi's head nuzzled against your neck as he furiously wrote down lyrics. All you were concerned about was his hands. He had beautiful hands.

As time progressed, you found the urge to be fondled or even feel him move against you was increasing. Yoongi knew all your tricks. If you tried grinding against him that would only warrant a scolding or worst, him banning any kind of sexual activity until next week. He'd do it, you knew him well enough to not cross him. Especially because he's so busy.

"Yoongi?"

"Mmm." He hummed, kissing your neck.

"You look cute today."

"Mmm, Namjoon called me Daddy. He thought you would like it."

"Namjoon's not wrong."

One of his hand wrapped around you, while the other worked with a pen and paper. He rubbed small circles into your stomach and hummed appreciatively.

"What did you do today beautiful?" His deep voice was calming, you were stuck between wanting to bask in his touches or fall asleep to whatever hypnotic trance he had you in.

"Work was good as usual. I also got my paper done, I'm really proud of it."

"Good girl. You've worked so hard."

You received another kiss on the neck. Before you could respond, his hand dipped under your shirt (his shirt) and cupped both of your breasts in his hands. His ringed thumb swiped over your nipple leaving a cool shocking sensation behind.

"You're not wearing a bra?" His tone was teasing. Had you not seen the small smile tugging on his lips you would think he was upset.

"Hate wearing those."

"Mmm. Anything else I should know." He asked, still fondling your breasts.

"Perhaps a couple things."

"Oh yeah, like what."

You were about to tease him, but the tugging and pinching of your nipple was enough to sedate your urge to toy with Yoongi. It felt really good, especially since you were already worked up earlier.

"Like what baby?"

He was now pressing kisses up your neck with little bites. The pen and paper was abandoned and his now free hand took refuge in the inside of your thigh, prying your legs open.

"Like, I think you should use your hands to make me cum."

He laughed, his chest vibrating against your back.

"Mmm, figured as much. You just sat right on my lap with no hesitation." You were squirming under his touch. "Take off your pants baby. I'll make you cum right here."

Without question, those pants along with your panty were flying to the other side of the room and Yoongi was spreading your legs until they hooked on the handle of either sides of the chair. From his angle, he could see your entire pussy spread out. He could see how wet you were from just a simple touch.

"Dirty."

He sucked a finger and circled it around your clenching core, feeling the heat of your wetness. His finger was teasing you in small strokes and he purposely flicked your clit.

Your body laid flush against his, lifeless even with your head lolled off to the side as he slowly rubbed circles around your clit, missing it on purpose. Yoongi was a nasty tease, he loved drawing out your orgasm and then letting it hit you in waves when you'd least expect it.

"Did you miss me this much? Had to storm into my workplace and demand that I make you cum with my hands."

His free hand was busy rolling your nipple between his thumb and index, tugging whenever he felt like it.

"Not my fault you look so good." You hummed.

"Wanna taste you, let me taste you please."

"Yeaah. Please Yoongi."

In seconds you found yourself being thrown on the desk in front of you. Your legs were splayed out with your hands resting on either side of your body for support. Yoongi ducked his head, laid close to your inner thigh and gazed up at you.

There was a glint of mischievousness sparkling in his dark gaze. He pushed you back hard, your back knocking into the monitor, your hand was busy smashing into the keyboard to find purchase.

"Yoongi!" You hissed, "Your fucking computer is behind me."

His tongue found its way on the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to the new heart beat centered in your hot dripping pussy.

"I will crush your head if you keep teasing me." You threatened. Yoongi had the nerve to laugh, as if he didn't believe you.

"An honorable death for an honorable man."

He finally gave in, and sucked lightly around your clit. His tongue flicking softly at the sensitive spot. You were too busy moaning and heaving, so when he inserted a finger, followed by another you found it extremely taxing to hold back your screams. They were loud and needy. And Yoongi was tending to them.

The thing about Yoongi is that, he knew how to use his fingers and he was an expert with his mouth. Every time he angled his fingers upwards to rub at area that made you see stars, he also added pressure to his tongue. He was sucking and licking your orgasm closer while he finger fucked you. The noises were loud and sinful. The room was heated with wet squelches each time his finger thrust into you.

"Uuuuhgh, Just like that Yoongi. Fuuuuuuuck mee!"

Unable to control the intensity of the feeling, you grabbed onto his hair and pressed him closer- possibly suffocating him in the process. Your hips were grinding circles into his face, finding it easier to chase your own orgasm this way.

"Yeaah!"

"Yeaaaaah!"

"Fuuuuuck Yooongi Mmmmmhhh!"

Your leg wrapped around his neck and pulled him in, locking his head in place as your orgasm hit. It was so intense, your ears were ringing and eyes rolled back as the endorphins wore off. Yoongi was still working his tongue, slowly, sending light shockwaves through your core.

"Baby, I love you and your pussy but please let go."

"No Yoongi, not when you make me cum like that. I feel like I'm floating."

"Oh yeah, I feel like I'm drowning in you."

Reluctantly, you let go. Yoongi's face was glossy with your arousal but he hadn't made any attempts to clean it, only smiling at you in return.

You heard the familiar sound of his belt being unbuckled and the zipper running down. His cock was standing upright, shining with his own arousal. Yoongi looked spent leaning back in his chair. He looked like he owned you and everyone else in this building with his cocky smile and the wicked look in his eye.

"Come sit on my cock baby. Lets finish this song together." He smirked.

And just like that, his cock was nestled into your warm sensitive pussy as he worked on lyrics to his new song. This was going to be a long night.

"You know the rules baby, don't move and don't touch your pussy. If you want something you ask me. Okay baby."

"Yes Yoongi."

"Good girl. This is going to take a while."

[intheticklecloset]

Sibling Bonding (My Hero Academia)

This fic was purchased from my Coffee Shop Wish List by a generous supporter. Thank you!

Primary Universe

Summary: Spring break has arrived, and Todoroki heads home to spend some time with his older siblings since Endeavor is out of town. When he accidentally reveals that he's ticklish, things take a giggly turn very quickly!

A/N: YES I'm so excited to share this one! Earlier this year somebody suggested a Todoroki siblings fic, which I declined at the time because I didn't feel like I'd be able to do it justice. Later I felt more confident and put it on my Wish List, and now it's been purchased for your reading pleasure! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,915

~~~

“I’m here,” Todoroki announced without flourish as he entered his home for the first time in months, kicking off his shoes in the entryway.

Fuyumi poked her head around the corner from the kitchen where she was working on dinner. “Welcome back, Shoto.”

"Thanks.” Todoroki shrugged off his backpack and entered the kitchen, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He felt awkward, but did his best to ignore it. “It smells great. What is it?”

“Soba.”

He blinked at her. “You…didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

“It’s no trouble at all. It’s your favorite food, right? I wanted to make today special. It’s the first day of your spring break and you’re spending it with us!” Fuyumi smiled at him. “I want you to have a great time.”

Todoroki nodded at her. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Of course. Natsuo should be here any minute. You can take a seat in the dining room if you want. We can talk easier that way.”

“Okay.”

But instead, he leaned against a counter she didn’t appear to be using, putting his hands in his pockets. His first instinct was to cross his arms, but he didn’t want to come across as grumpy or ungrateful. He was truly happy to be here, finally able to spend time with his siblings without the presence of his father to ruin his mood.

It had been Fuyumi’s idea. Endeavor was out of the prefecture on business, which left her and Natsuo home alone for the first time in a while. That, and it was spring break for U.A., which meant Todoroki was free to come over and hang out with them without having to get permission to leave the campus. Fuyumi had quickly arranged for this first day to be spent having dinner together.

“So…” his sister said after a brief pause. “How’s school going?”

*

A couple of hours later, dinner was over, the dishes were in the dishwasher, and the Todoroki siblings sat around in the living room staring at each other awkwardly. None of them really knew how to proceed.

Still, Natsuo tried. “So, uh, Shoto. What kind of stuff do you like to do?”

Todoroki knew what he meant. What should we do now that dinner’s over? He thought for a moment. “Well…my friends and I play Mario Kart a lot, I guess.”

Fuyumi perked up. “You like video games?”

“They’re fine.”

“Well, we don’t have Mario Kart,” Natsuo said, “but we do have the latest Mario Party game. Do you want to try that?”

“Sure.”

Todoroki helped his siblings set up the game, then selected Yoshi as his character and proceeded to inadvertently dominate both of them as time went on. He won several mini-games and always seemed to get to the star first, no matter the circumstances. He honestly couldn’t tell if he was really good, or if his siblings were just really bad. Or both.

“Jeez, Shoto!” Natsuo finally exclaimed after the youngest sibling got his fifth star – three ahead of Fuyumi, who had two. He nudged Todoroki, his elbow pressing into his ribs. “Give us a chance to catch up!”

Todoroki giggled.

The room went silent for a moment.

“Shoto?” Fuyumi asked, staring at him incredulously. “Are you okay?”

Todoroki knew he was blushing and he wished desperately that he could have held in his reaction better than that. But it was too late now, and he knew it. He sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. Natsuo nudged me and it…it tickled. That’s all.”

Natsuo’s eyes lit up. “You’re ticklish? Really?”

“Nat,” Fuyumi warned.

Todoroki hesitated. Game forgotten now, he glanced between his siblings on either side of him and struggled to decide how he wanted to proceed. He knew they wouldn’t touch him without permission – knowing what he’d gone through with their father kept them from doing that much, at least. But he didn’t want to brush them off, either. As it happened, he did enjoy being tickled to an extent, but he’d never been tickled by family before.

“I…um…” he swallowed, heart racing. What would they think if they knew the other half of it, too? That he enjoyed doing the tickling?

Fuyumi reached out as though to put a hand on his shoulder, then stopped herself. “Shoto, it’s okay. We won’t tickle you if you don’t want us to. Right, Nat?”

“Definitely not.” His brother was surprisingly emphatic, nodding. “I was just surprised to learn you were, that’s all. If you don’t like it I’m not going to tickle you just for the sake of it.”

“I…I do like it.” Todoroki mumbled, setting his controller down, hoping that would be enough invitation for them. “My friends tickle me quite a lot, actually. It’s fun. As long as you stop when I ask you to.”

Natsuo grinned, setting his controller down, too. “So you don’t automatically say ‘stop’ when you’re being tickled, huh, Sho? That’s interesting.” He poked him in the ribs again. “Cute, too.”

Todoroki smiled, pulling away only the tiniest bit.

“Fuyumi? I think we have some long overdue sibling bonding to catch up on.”

She beamed. “I totally agree.”

And that was it. The next thing he knew, Todoroki had been tackled to the floor, fingers digging into his ribs and sides and belly in rapid succession, giggles bubbling up out of him quicker than he had time to process. He squealed and curled up, but did his best not to push them away. He also never said a word of protest.

“Aww, you really do like it, don’t you?” Fuyumi cooed, wiggling her fingers up into his underarm. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

Todoroki yelped, his whole body jerking when she found one of his hot spots, and his squirming became near-thrashing when she realized what she’d done and continued to do it. Natsuo laughed, grabbing his wrists and pulling them above his head with little resistance, giving their sister full access to his armpits.

Fuyumi dug in, smiling wide as her youngest brother tossed his head back and laughed freely, eyes squeezed shut and teeth showing as he beamed happily, legs kicking behind her. “Aw, is this a good spot, Sho? Does it tickle really bad here?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!!” he cried, arching his back as she raked her nails from his underarms to his hips, searching for another hot spot. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! CAHAHAHAREFUL!!”

“I will be,” she promised.

“I want in on the fun, too!” Natsuo declared, shifting so he was sitting on Todoroki’s arms, pinning them above his head while he leaned down to pinch at his ribs and sides, sometimes scribbling along his neck and ears as well.

Todoroki dissolved into giggles, flustered beyond belief but still enjoying himself. Then Fuyumi squeezed his thigh experimentally, and he screeched with a new round of fresh laughter, shaking his head. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Ooh, another bad spot?” she teased, squeezing gently, drawing loud laughter from him every time. “You’re really ticklish, aren’t you, Sho?”

“I KNOHOHOHOHOHOW!!” he laughed, digging his heels into the carpeted floor. “PLEASE, IT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES A LOHOHOHOHOHOT!!”

“Are you still okay?” she asked. “Do you want us to stop?”

Todoroki whined but shook his head. “I’M FIHIHIHIHIHINE!!”

“Fuyumi, I want a turn!” Natsuo complained, releasing Todoroki’s arms and shuffling down to join her. “Let me try some spots! Don’t take all the fun of experimenting away from me.”

“Fine, fine, you big baby,” she shot back playfully, scribbling lightly over Todoroki’s sides and belly. “Go on, try his knees and feet.”

Todoroki couldn’t help the sound that escaped him at the mention of his feet being one of the next targets. He slapped his hands over his mouth the instant it was out, but it was too late.

“Oh? None of that,” Fuyumi admonished gently, pulling his hands away from his mouth and down to his sides, straddling him, pinning them in place as she danced her fingers over his ribs, occasionally sneaking into his underarms as well.

“I’m not getting anything here,” Natsuo said, squeezing Todoroki’s knees but not getting any kind of twitch or extra giggles for his efforts.

“Then try his feet.”

Todoroki couldn’t help it. He pleaded, “Behehehe careful, plehehehease, I’m reheheheally ticklish there!”

“Oh?~” Natsuo grinned, pulling off his socks and scribbling wildly over his bare soles. “Are you, now?”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! CRAP, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Todoroki shrieked, tossing his head back and unleashing loud, uncontrollable bouts of laughter that had both of his siblings staring at him in shock. He squirmed uselessly, trapped under Fuyumi’s weight and – following that outburst – Natsuo’s as he straddled his legs and went to work tickling him like crazy on his worst spot in true brotherly fashion. “NONONONO PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! NAHAHAHAHAHATSUO!!”

Fuyumi grinned. She’d never seen Shoto look so happy in his life, and despite his ticklish distress and the pleas falling from his mouth, he never once said stop, never once looked to be truly panicked. He was loving this, she realized, and it made her heart so full she thought it might burst.

Laughter was truly the best medicine.

“AAAIEEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!!” Todoroki suddenly screamed, laughing so hard his hysterics went silent. He shook his head desperately, trying to gasp for breath. “NO MORE NO MORE PLEHEHEHEHEASE NO!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Fuyumi climbed off of him. “Nat, get off, he’s had enough.”

Natsuo complied, but he was laughing just as hard as his younger brother had been moments ago. “Dude, your laugh is the best thing in the world! You know that? Got a serious sweet spot on your arches, don’t you, little bro?”

Todoroki curled into a ball, still giggling, still smiling. “Y-Yeheheah…thanks f-fohohor stopping…”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to go too far.” Natsuo ruffled his hair, beaming down at him. He and Fuyumi shared smiles with each other.

“Are you okay? Let me get you some water,” she said, hurrying into the kitchen and returning a moment later with a glass.

Todoroki took it gratefully, taking a few sips after he sat up. Then he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You guys probably think I’m such a child.”

“Shoto, sweetie, you are a child.” Fuyumi smirked, winking at him. “You’re the baby of the family, remember? But that doesn’t matter. Liking tickling doesn’t make you any less of a man. Or a pro hero.”

“For sure,” Natsuo agreed. He nudged his shoulder. “If anything, we think it’s awesome. Right, Fuyumi? It just means we have a guaranteed way to make you smile.”

Todoroki never imagined his first time really spending time with his brother and sister would wind up like this, but he wasn’t complaining. Not in the slightest. He smiled, unable to contain his relief and happiness. “There…there is one more thing, though.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Fuyumi asked gently.

He bit his lip, then glanced between them. “I like doing the tickling more.”

They went quiet.

They looked at each other.

Natsuo jumped to his feet. “Crap, Fuyumi – we’d better run!”

Fuyumi took his hand as he offered it to her, and they began to disappear from the living room.

“Wait!” Todoroki cried, worried he’d ruined the happy feeling from moments before. “I won’t do it unless you’re okay with—”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Sho?!” Natsuo called from somewhere in the hallway. “Come get us, tickle monster!”

“You can’t catch us!” Fuyumi sang teasingly.

That familiar fire flared up within Todoroki, and he beamed and leapt to his feet, chasing after them.

Sibling bonding went both ways, after all.

[imkylotrash]

Playing Games

Pairing: Sky x reader

Requests: You’re known as a very powerful faerie and dating sky and known as the power couple of the school. Anonymous

and

You get in a fight and you make him jealous (hint to smut) Anonymous

A/N I changed Sky’s personality slightly to fit the request. I don’t really see him having this reaction but I liked it for the story. 

“Hey boyfriend,” you smile walking straight into his open arms. He hugs you tightly taking everything in. God, you’ve missed him. Your parents insisted that you spent the summer with them meaning you and Sky had only seen each other on facetime for the past two months.

“How was your summer?” he asks refusing to let go of you just yet. 

“It would’ve been better if it had included you,” you admit knowing he’s thinking the exact same thing. He’s spent the summer with Riven at Alfea and Silva putting them through a brutal training program so they would be ready for this term. 

“I bet Silva really enjoyed having you this summer though,” you reckon as you walk towards the gate to the school. 

“If he enjoyed putting us through that then the man is a sadist.” 

“You know what I mean,” you laugh knowing just how important these moments are for both Sky and Silva. You know Sky has always considered Silva his real father which also meant that he always worried about Silva. Being the head of the army wasn’t exactly a job that came with a lot of security so Sky never knew if he were saying goodbye for the last time. You’d spent a lot of nights staying up and waiting for Silva to return. Something you were happy to do if it helped Sky. 

“I know, I know,” Sky replies. When you enter school grounds you see the first couple of students start to whisper and point. It’s no secret that you and Sky are considered somewhat of a power couple around here despite your many attempts to stay under the radar. You’ve proven to be quite the powerful fairy drawing a lot of attention in itself but when you and Sky started dating, everyone wanted to know more. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this part,” you admit quietly not wanting anyone but Sky to hear you. Sky wants to be a normal couple as much as you do, but he’s accepted that that’s not a possibility with him practically being Silva’s son and you being one of the most powerful fairies this school has ever seen. He likes the attention from the girls a bit more than you’d prefer but you trust him wholeheartedly. 

“Just give ‘em a smile and keep walking,” he whispers practicing that tactic himself. You breathe out once you get inside not even realising that you’d been holding your breath. You know it comes with the territory but that doesn’t mean you have to love it. 

“Just imagine when we graduate and get to leave this place. We can go somewhere no one knows us.” It’s an alluring thought that helps keep you sane even if it’s only a comforting lie. Someone with your powers will never be able to be completely free from war and politics. Farah has already started giving you private lessons in diplomacy and the history of politics in the Otherworld. With power comes certain expectations. 

“I will hold onto that thought until you come find me for lunch,” you smile giving him a quick peck before heading to class. Except he doesn’t come find you for lunch and keeping your temper under control becomes quite a challenge when you discover why. 

“Who’s this?” you ask positioning yourself between Sky and the new girl. She has gorgeous red hair and a face that screams pretty but you refuse to be intimidated by her. 

“This is Bloom,” Sky informs you. It’s a conscious effort not to make a face when you hear her name. Maybe you feel slightly intimidated by her. 

“You forgot our lunch date,” you state and while everyone else who hears your voice won’t think anything of it, Sky knows you’re upset. 

“I’m sorry. I’m the one that kept him. I was just having trouble finding my way and he definitely didn’t offer any help.” Apparently, it’s an inside joke because they both laugh bringing your anger to a boiling point. You haven’t seen him all summer and on the first day back together he goes and flirt with the first years. He knows he’s in trouble as you walk away from Bloom. 

“Before you say anything, I was just being nice.” 

“Then why don’t you join her for lunch?” you say your voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s about to say something when you spot your chance for being completely immature and petty. 

“Alex, hey! Wait up. You want to go get some lunch?” He’s a specialist you started talking to last year and while he’s nothing but a friend you know it’ll annoy Sky. You both have a tendency to be jealous of each other making fights between the two of you downright horrible. 

“Sure,” he says not realising that he just became part of the argument. You feel bad for involving him but then you remember standing in the cafeteria waiting patiently for Sky while he was out flirting with a first year and every bit of guilt goes down the drain. 

“Alex, I mean this in the nicest way but get fucking lost.” He grabs your arm holding you in place and Alex immediately scatters. No specialist will go against Sky especially not when he’s looking like he just might punch a wall - or them. 

“Maybe you should get lost?” you say out of spite more than anything. You hate that you’re arguing on the first day back but it was humiliating to stand there waiting having everyone watch you. 

“I’m sorry I missed lunch, okay? It won’t happen again.” His eyes are begging for forgiveness and you want to end this fight so badly but something’s keeping you from doing so. 

“I was thinking about you all day. I was quite literally counting the seconds until lunch because I missed you. And all you could think about was some first year. That hurts, Sky.”

“I know. But it wasn’t like that. I spent my summer going crazy without you here.” He tentatively takes your hands hoping you won’t push him away. 

“It would’ve been nice to know that,” you mumble feeling your anger subside. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I take full responsibility for today. It won’t happen again,” he says bringing you in for a hug. It’s futile to fight him at this point, you’re not even angry anymore. 

“I wasn’t much better. I’m sorry about Alex,” you mumble face pressed against his chest. You feel him chuckle and you can’t help but laugh too by the absurdity of it all. 

“I probably scared that kid half to death.” You’re pretty sure Alex will never have the guts to speak to you again. The poor boy had no clue what he was getting into when he agreed to lunch. You promise yourself this is the first and last time someone else gets dragged into you and Sky’s argument. 

“Kiss me and then take me to lunch,” you say. He leans down kissing you with those plumb lips of his and you feel your knees go weak. Even though you drive each other crazy, he is the one for you. He’s the love of your life and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[y0itsbri]

Hi Bri 🥰

C-16 if you'd like to 👀

Coffee dates and disasters

au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.

which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings

words: 2.4k

"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.

"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.

the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."

"uh, brother," ian coughed.

lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."

she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."

ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.

"what can i get you boys?"

the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.

"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.

"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.

"you're an idiot."

"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.

ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."

lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.

they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.

the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.

"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.

"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.

"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"

"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."

"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."

"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."

she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.

"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"

ian ducked his head in embarrassment.

"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.

mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.

--

"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.

ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."

mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.

"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"

"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."

"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"

"fuck if i know."

she laughed.

"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."

"i suck at art."

"chemistry?"

"failed that."

"business?"

"yeah, no thanks."

mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?

"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.

"really?!"

"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."

"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.

"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"

"isn't that just for students?"

"they don't card, dummy."

"right, right, i knew that."

"sureeee. you in?"

ian mentally checked his work schedule.

"i'm in."

--

lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.

ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.

"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"

ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.

"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.

ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"

"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"

"oh."

"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"

“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.

“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.

“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.

“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.

soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—

thump.

ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.

the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.

ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.

they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.

"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.

they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.

he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.

"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.

fuck.

ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.

no mandy. no lip. no dignity.

--

the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.

well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.

hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.

"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.

his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.

"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.

"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.

"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.

"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"

their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.

no. fucking. way.

just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.

there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.

"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.

“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.

“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."

brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?

"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.

ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.

mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.

mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.

"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.

"what's your first?"

"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."

how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.

“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”

“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.

“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”

“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.

ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.

“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.

“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.

yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.

—

mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.

she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.

the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.

and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.