#realistic birthday under the cut /j

[nordickies]

It is the twins' day (they're not twins). You have to love them having their days back to back, that's very sibling rivalry of you. They're just two old men getting older together. Happy birthday, Den and Swe!!

[nellandvoid]

to celebrate the pines twins birthdays, i’m gonna make them miserable!!!!!

jkjk i just want to show a wip of my better world au designs for mabel and dipper, a (r o u g h) sketch that just so happens to be (semi) done on their birthday!! (it’s still the 31st. shut up/j)

lore dump under cut cause man am i gonna yap

the main thing i wanna do with these two is keep their fundamentals while still realistically changing their external personalities based on how they were raised (especially since their great-uncle ford is head of the institute of oddology and an estimed scholar in cryptozoology)

design-wise, i wanted to show how mabel's a bit more insecure while dipper's the opposite, so her sweaters don't all have designs on them, her hair is pulled back, and she has shorts and tennis shoes instead of a skirt and flats - dipper, on the other hand, doesn't have a hat since he doesn't care if people see his birthmark, and he has the space tee and button up combo that he was wearing in the valentines flashback in weirdmageddon pt 2 since he wouldn't be as self-conscious about showing off his interests

personality-wise, dipper has probably changed the least: still socially awkward, still has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder (same), still considers mabel his best (and only) friend - the main difference, though, is that growing up he wasn't bullied as much for being interested in the strange and unusual. kids are still cruel, of course, but he always had his great-uncle's reputation to look up to whenever someone made fun of his birthmark or obsession with ghosts. and now, getting to finally spend a summer with his idol, he's more than ready to finally be accepted for all his weirdness. he can finally be loud, be weird, be himself, and not get those looks people in piedmont give him when they think he's not looking. the few times he's met great-uncle ford growing up, the few times he slipped up and said something weird, his great-uncle never gave him the look like everyone else did. he'd just smile, always softly, always distantly, and always tell him to never change.

on the other hand, mabel is much more reserved and self-conscious, especially when she arrives in gravity falls - weirdness has always led to genius in her family, so when she let her mind drift away her parents would always drag her back down to earth, telling her she's just as capable as her great-uncle and brother, why doesn't she just take homework, take school, take life seriously like they do? and so she tries to, and tries, and eventually she learns about the look: the one people give her when she tells them about the time she swallowed a whole bag of gummy worms without chewing, or about the sweater she knit last week that's scratch and sniff, or about anything not serious. she hates the look, and starts to do anything she can to avoid it. especially when she does something silly in front of her great-uncle ford. the look he gives always hurts more, like something she did reminded him of a nightmare or a bad memory. and she didn't want to hurt him.

[thekillingjoke-haha]

We’re Batshit Crazy

@spnquotebingo​ Word count:1,609

Summary: Love isn't all that perfect sometimes love is crazy especially when the Hero is in love with said crazy.

Gotham AU

Jason Todd(Jensen Ackles) x Villan!Reader

Enemies and Lovers (none of that "to" bs)

Gotham Recasting: Batman=John, Dick Grayson(second Robin not first) =Sam ,Tim Drake=Adam, Joker(ledger style)=Lucifer, Harley Quinn=Lilith,ect.

Warnings: Mention of death, blood, guns, and violence

⑇⑆⑉⑈⑇⑆⑉⑈⑇⑆⑉⑈⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑉⑈⑆⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑈⑇⑉⑆⑇⑉⑆⑇⑉⑆⑇

The mad laughter rung out into the night sky as the purple Lamborghini hit corners with violently sharp turns. "Oh puddin I just love family night!~" The pale platinum blonde giggled as the man with green dyed hair licked his smiling lips. A bubble of laughter came from the back seat he turned around to see his princess looking out the small back window. "Batsy batsy batsy" Her low/high pitched giggle caused a crazy chain reaction as the bat mobile hurried to catch up. "Always ruining our fun,huh,princess?" The clown king shifted his gray-ish blue order into the mirror grinning making the scars on his face raise into a sinister smile at the look of pure chaos in his daughter's e/c eyes. "Not tonight! Not on my birthday!!" She said as she smiled reaching under the seat to pull out a Tommy gun. Climbing to the front seat sitting on her mothers lap she leaned out the passenger window. "Go back to the Rat cave your not gonna put a downer on my weekend!" Y/n yelled shooting off round towards the tires,windshield,and headlights.

The mobile didn't seem to have a scratch as as a motorcycle pulled up beside it. Slipping back in the car the younger women pouted looking at get parents. "He called his little birdie no doubt the replacements in the car." Y/n huffed as she dug around for more fire power. "Puddin we have a visitor.~" The red mask gazed at us as he lifted a forearm pistol. Shots were fired and Joker took a hard right almost like tron the motorcycle quickly turned into a ally to avoid being hit. "Sorry Princess might have to cut tonight shot." He said licking his lips as a thump came from the roof making the youngest clown snarl her eye crazed as she shot above her as the purple car swerved wildly. "YOU'RE RUINING MY BIRTHDAY,BATS!!!" Y/n cackled madly a mixture of her parents laughed till the magazine ran out.

They got to one of their warehouses where Jokers men were armed to the teeth. The clown mask had black soulless eyes and immediately fired the moment the batmobile entered. Y/n skipped out of the purple Lamborghini she got on her tippy toes and kissed her dad on the cheek. "I got the hooded punk. Can you clip the bats wings for me...a little present?!" He laughed as he armed himself with a shotgun. "Anything for my princess." The f/c sf/c female clown skipped away knowing that the motorcycle riding vigilante was hot on her tail. That's how she found herself on the roof tops jumping the gaps as heavy footfalls followed. Her loud laugh echoed as she leaped to a smaller building hiding behind a vent the moment the brown leather jacket came into view she tackled the tall man. They were both panting as a grin pulled on the clowns lips.

Y/n POV

"Caught ya,Jay bird." I giggled pulling of the helmet his apple green eyes covered by a second mask stared at me he chuckled as his hand slipped above his head in mock surrender. "Yeah you caught me,beautiful." Leaning down I kiss him my hands pushed into his cheeks my thumb running over the scarred J. We've been dating for awhile now ever since dad kidnapped the second Robin at seventeen. I was fifteen at the time and dad had me at his side as he tortured him.I was always there to stitched him up and put burn cream after shock therapy I didn't know how we got attached maybe because he wanted to rebel a little by talking to me or someone around his age saw the same if not worse shit.

Six years ago(Y/n 15 Jason 17)

"Why are you helping me?" Looking up his head was strapped down along with his arms and legs. I shrugged my shoulders I knew who he was if I wiped off the make up and temp dyed my hair I was the honor student in the same class as him. Jason Todd anyone with eyes had a thing for him,but after removing his mask it wasn't hard to piece together who the bat fam is. "I know what my dad has planned for you Jay. This is just a band-aid on a gunshot wound and might I say that's very unhelpful." This was the first I spoke to him and it wasn't long before Dad beat him to death.

Two years later.

I sat in the back of the car as Frost drove. We just left the cemetery. "Why are we doing this,n/n." He asked looking in the rear view mirror at me. I'm seventeen now my thoughts screamed at me. Why was I trying to bring him back? "Because I crazy that why!" I giggled as we grew closer to the lazapit. He was dressed in a black suit with red tie his body sunk into the water as I waited. A loud gasp drew my attention as he shot up a white streak in his hair. "Heya sleeping beauty." Looking over in shock he lowly made his way looking like a baby deer. "I'm alive,but h-how?" His green eyes looked at me. "A Ghoul owed me a few favors I just asked to use his fountain of youth." Handing him a towel and some clothes. "Sorry about the outfit,but Arkham does have one size fits all." Jason chuckled as he started to dry off.I realized why I brought him back. I was crazy about him.

Two more years later(two years ago)

Jason wanted to stay dead he didn't go back to His dad and brother after he realized that neither of them tried and save him. It was sad to see,but it brought Jason closer to me and he started to trust me and I gave trust in return. Blood coated my hands while some was on my face. Looking at Jay some was speckled on his cheeks taking the pockets square out of the mobsters coat I wiped it off he looked down at me his arm slipped around my waist pulling me closer my breath hicked. "Will you be my girlfriend,my little jester?" A large smile grew on my face as my arms went around his neck pulling him down further. "Gladly,Jay bird." I kissed him not caring if my lipstick stained his lips and he didn't seem to care either as the kiss grew more intense. We shared our first kiss at nineteen surrounded by dead bodies as sirens and the unmistakable sound of the armed batmobile. At least he's as crazy about me as I am about him.

One year ago. (Jason POV for a sec)

I came to Bruce I hate to admit it but I needed advice about the one think he knew best. Women. It was just a couple of months ago he found out I was alive and shocker he managed to drive Dicky boy to Blüdhaven to get away from him to get his own image and not just Robin. Oh and surprise surprise when out of robins he had a spare like a tire and it's name was Tim. Nevermind that I stood across from Bruce in his home main office he had a frown on his face. "You're dating someone and its serious and I didn't know about it?" He asked trying to deduct everything. "I've been dating her ever since I came back. As strange as it might sound,but I want us to be something more." That's when the billionaire playboy stood up standing just a inch shorter then myself.

"Life is short Jason and you've experienced that first hand if you feel that both of you are perfect enough to be more then go for it." Perfect wasn't realistic nothing was ever perfect my life isn't perfect her life sure as hell isn't she's the clown princess I'm a bat son. Maybe that what makes us so good together the fact that it would have never really happened any other way life is just crazy like that.

Present

Staring into those vexing green eyes always brought me back. We're both twenty-one him being older only by a couple of months. "Happy birthday,gorgeous." His voice brought me back as my smile grew. We were standing up now he held a box wrapped in my two favorite colors. "Awe you shouldn't have." I grab it and opened it a gun was inside it was red and gold revolver it looked like my moms love/hate gun,but it said King/Queen. Looking at Jay I reached to hug him when suddenly he dropped to one knee pulling out a box with a beautiful f/c ring and ruby gem. "This feels over due. You took care of me when I was considered enemy number one. You brought me back from the grave when my own family didn't try. And this might sound stupid,but I had a crush on you in middle school you were one of the only people that didn't give me pity after Bruce adopted a street kid." He licked his lips as he gave of a small smile. "Together we are far from perfect, but we are good. You complete me...Y/n M/n Napier become my queen?" My eyes glossed over with tears my make up running down the pale foundation. "Oh my god of course!!!" I jumped into his arms hugging him tightly before letting him slip on the ring. "I love you." "I love you more crazy." I chuckle it sounded watery in my throat. "If I'm crazy then that makes two of us. You wanted to marry me." Yep we're both batshit crazy.

⑇⑈⑆⑉⑇⑈⑆⑉⑇⑆⑉⑈⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑈⑆⑉⑇⑈⑆⑉⑈⑇⑆⑉⑈⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈⑉⑇⑆⑈

A/n: Quote= We are far from perfect, but we are good. ~Supernatural

Is it just me or does Jensen look fucking hot as Red Hood?! I'm mean he's definitely a reason to move to Gotham

Well first crossover AU in my bingo card

[purplesurveys]

1165

survey by xxbieberburnham

A - Accidents

Have you ever been in a car accident? Very minor ones that only caused small dents, and nothing that wrecked either car or put someone in the hospital entirely.

Do you have a lot of scars? I have some, not a lot.

Have you been in a fist fight with someone? Nope.

Have you ever seriously hurt someone by accident? I remember striking my ex in the face accidentally while we were horsing around. She was wearing glasses at the time so she ended up getting a cut in the area in between her eyes.

Have you ever had stitches? No and like I always say, I hope I’ll never need to get them.

B - Beauty

Would consider yourself beautiful? Not beautiful, but I will feel pretty on some days. Not always, though.

Are you self consicous of how you look? These days not so much, because I don’t even get to go out in the first place and there’s been little need to fix myself up most days unless I’ll get on a video call for work. I don’t get self-conscious around my family either.

Do you wear a lot of make up? I never wear makeup.

Would you ever consider getting plastic surgery? Nope. I considered having my breasts done when I was a teenager, but the thought literally never crosses my mind anymore.

What do you think makes a person beautiful? Physically, I think it differs per person. More than that, it’s the things they do when no one is looking.

C - Consequences

What is the longest you've been grounded for? Maybe around a year? Due to issues at home and, honestly, poor parental skills on my mom’s end, I ended up being a rebellious problem child and wasn’t the easiest to temper or raise.

What would you do if you became pregnant? Keep it and try to seek support from family and friends.

Do you ever think about how your actions affect people? Always a people pleaser, y’all. Of course I do.

What do you think is the worst punishment someone could give you? I guess anything that involves taking away basic essentials, like cutting off access to food and water.

What is one thing you wish you didn't do because it wasn't worth it? Stayed in a relationship that I knew was going to end at some point. She always made it clear she’d end it one day and I was just too afraid of confrontation to face it sooner (and too stubborn to handle the truth).

D - Dealing

When you're mad at someone how do you show it? Cold shoulder.

Name a time when you had to be strong. The week of my grandfather’s death, wake, and cremation was on the same week of my entrance examinations for several universities, including the two toughest ones. I had already been in the headspace to just focus on the exams and shut out everything else for the meantime then the death happened, so my life turned into a rollercoaster of emotions quickly. I ended up entertaining relatives and fervently going through my review modules at the wake.  

Have you ever dealt with divorce? Well I’ve never been married and I also live in a country where divorce is illegal, so no.

When people don't accept you, how do you react? It will definitely affect my self-esteem to an extent. I imagine being bothered by it.

Have you ever lost someone to death? Yes. Just yesterday I found out one of grand uncles did from Covid. We are very close with that side of the family, so I am still in shock and have yet to process it.

F - Family

Is there anyone in your family you don't talk to? I barely talk to one of my uncles and only do so when we greet each other at family gatherings. Still, I haven’t looked him in the eye for years now.

If you had to choose: friends or family? Probably my friends.

Do you have any siblings? Yes.

How often do you spend quality time with your family? Pretty regularly now with Covid still on the loose. We have dinner together every night, then after that we usually hang out in the living room doing our own thing. Also breakfast on weekends.

G - Growing

How tall are you? Do you wish you were taller or shorter? I’m around 5′1″. I’m fine with this height.

Do you think you've grown up in the past year? So much. I think my surveys show that too.

Do you think you're mature for your age or still childish? I want to say I’ve matured in some ways, but I don’t think I’m fully there yet. For one, I’m still scared to learn how to cook lol and I can’t even light up a match.

Are you scared to think that one day you'll turn 30, then 40 & 50? Sometimes I’ll get in those moods because it makes me realize how fast life is and how quickly people turn old. But I hate getting stressed and mulling over things I can’t control, so I also immediately return to the present and just enjoy where I am now.

Do you believe you still have a lot to learn? I’m barely in my mid-20s, so I know that for a fact.

H - Hope

Love - real or not? I want to say it’s still real. Some people just get lucky early, I guess.

Are you a pessimist or an optimist? Realist.

Do you believe in fate or that everything happens for a reason? I believe whatever things that happen are consequences of, or are at least linked to, what’s happened in the past – wherever that falls under.

Do you believe that after we die, your spirit is still alive? I don’t believe in spirits, so no.

What gives you hope when you just feel like dying? My next paycheck. Hahahaha

I - Idols

Who is your idol? I don’t have any.

What makes this person an idol to you?

Has this person done anything good to help other people?

Does this person have good style?

What does this person do for a living?

J - Jokes

Tell me an inside joke between you and your friends. “Packs a punch” is one of mine and Angela’s long-standing inside jokes. I think I’ve shared this story before, but basically in one lunch break in high school I was tasting this juice that one of our friends brought; I remarked that it “packs a punch” which no 16 year old Filipino student uses in a casual setting, so it quickly became a hit in our circle and now Angela brings it back semi-regularly to tease me.

Are you usually the person to make people laugh or the other way around? It’s mostly the other way around but occasionally I’ll be able to blurt out a joke that ends up working well.

Do you cry when you laugh hard? Haha yes. That’s the best kind of laugh.

Do you get in trouble for laughing or talking in class? Almost never. I hated causing trouble, and if I was ever called out in class it was always a classmate talking to me that I was just too shy to ask to keep quiet.

Are you good at making jokes? Depends on the person. I hold back if necessary.

K - Knowledge

The prupose of school: learn, hang with friends or cause trouble? Learn and gain new experiences, then gain friends.

Do people refer to you as dumb, smart or average? I dunno, you’ll have to ask them.

What kind of grades do you usually get? I mostly bummed around in high school just because I didn’t think grades from that early on in life wouldn’t matter in the long run, but I still did well enough to pass all my classes. I exerted a lot more effort in college since that’s when educational backgrounds start to matter, and got even better results from there.

What is your favorite subject to learn or talk about? History.

L - Love

Are you currently in love? Nope.

Do people around you show a lot of love? The people in my life who’ve chosen to stay, yes.

Is love worth it? Not always, but yes, mostly.

Do you hate it when people say "I love you" & they've been dating for a day? It might confuse me a bit since I personally don’t take that phrase lightly; but I wouldn’t be one to judge.

Does it take a lot for you to say you love someone or is it just a word? Like I said, it takes a lot for me to be able to say it. The two times I dated my ex she was always the one who ended up saying it first.

M - Money

Do you believe money makes the world go round? Yes, and that it can buy happiness.

How much money do you have on you now? I’ve been using paper money less and less frequently now, actually. I’m all cashless these days, so my wallet is literally all out of bills and the coins there are probably just piled-up centavos I’ll never use.

Are you saving up for anything? My birthday treat. I already somewhat failed lolol - I got BTS coffees, Ivy Park shoes, and four boxes of wings just this week, but I told myself I am no longer touching my bank account until it’s time to pre-order food for my birthday.

Would you rather win 1 million dollars or find true love? Give me the million dollars. 50 million pesos would last me like ten lifetimes.

On a scale 1-10, how important is money to you? 10.

N - Nothing to lose

Would you ever go on a game show? If it’s a game show I enjoy watching, like Jeopardy or Family Feud. I might not be interested  if it’s anything else I’m not too familiar with.

Do you play the lottery? Never.

Ever been to Las Vegas? Nope.

Have you ever made a bet and then lost? Nah, I don’t really make real bets; I just use the saying with my friends but we never follow through with real money.

Do you give your all in a relationship? To a fault.

O - Openess

How long does it take you to open up with someone? It depends on how long it takes for me to be comfortable with them...some people can seem standoffish, so I’d be wary about opening up about my life to them out of shyness and uncertainty if they’d be down for such a conversation. Then others can be rays of sunshine who are very easy to talk to.

What does it take for you to fully trust someone? If they’ve proven to be reliable in crises. I’ve always said I’m more of a follower than a leader, so if I see that someone’s capable of handling any sort of issue that I can’t find a way out of, I will find it a lot easier to start trusting them.

Do you trust people too easily? Probably.

Are you comfortable with everyone? Definitely not. I like keeping my circle small.

Do you tell your parents and friends everything? Just my friends.

P - Positive

Is your outlook on life positive or negative? I like to keep it positive but still grounded to reality at the end of the day. I don’t wanna drag myself down with my mindset, but I also don’t want to give myself exuberantly high expectations.

Have you ever had a moment with someone & it didn't end positively? I’ve had very few negative one-off experiences with some strangers, but yes, they’ve happened.

Do you agree with: best to have loved than never loved at all? As negative as my experience turned out to be, I still think it’s better to experience love. I grew up in a lot of ways and also learned new things about myself because I loved.

Do you see most things as negative or positive? Idk, depends on how they realistically look like.

Has anything bad happened but something good came from it? Yes.

Q - Questions

When faced with a problem, do you solve it on your own or ask for help? Ask for help.

Do you like to take quizzes? Maybe not quizzes but surveys.

If you could ask the president one question, what would it be? When he plans to stop being a disgusting misogynist pig. And also if he has an actual Covid response action plan because I am not seeing anything fucking moving in the last year.

When someone does something wrong do you ask them about it or let it go? Depends on how close I am with them, or how attached I am to the issue.

Do you own plaid shorts? Not shorts but skirt, since I had to wear a school uniform in my old school and our school skirt was plaid.

R - Respect

How do you show respect for someone? I talk nicely about them, even (and especially) behind their backs. I also refuse to act or talk like a superior around them.

What can someone do to lose respect for them? If their stances on politics and certain advocacies are questionable; if I see them treating any employee under any industry shittily; and if they excessively badmouth people behind their backs.

Do you respect your parents, teachers or authority? Yeah. I’m afraid of getting into trouble and being reprimanded, and I always like looking good in superiors’ eyes so I’ve always been a bit of a goody two shoes.

If you're disrespectful to your parents, whats your punishment? I’m 23, have a full-time job, and give them a portion of my salary twice a month so they know they can’t really do anything about it anymore lmao. I’ve definitely noticed they’ve cut back on sermons directed to me. The most that can happen these days is that I would get a mild scolding, but that’s it.

If someone is mean to you, are you mean back? Of course, but I do it very passive-aggressively. I want to make sure I get the last laugh.

S - School

If you're still in school, what grade will you be going into? Not in school anymore and no plans to apply for a postgraduate course any time soon.

When will you graduate high school/college? I graduated high school in 2016, college in 2020.

After high school, what do you plan on doing? I went straight to college, as is the common practice here.

Do you like or hate school? I honestly enjoyed it for the most part; the only thing I really had a problem with was the demanding schedule and workload – back in college, I frequently had classes at 7 or 8:30 AM (which required me to start driving by 5 or 6 AM) and then I had extracurricular activities that would end at 10 PM at the very latest; meaning I was usually in my university for 17 hours every weekday. 

The upside to all of this is that I got to attend my dream school and was surrounded with my close friends, so despite the taxing schedule I have little to no complaints about my college experience, even in retrospect.

Have you ever been expelled or suspended? Never.

T - Temptation

Have you ever done something wrong but inside it was okay? Sure, I’ve definitely had my sneaky moments. Some of them I felt guilty doing and decided I’d never repeat, like cheating on a test; some of them I felt like needed to be a part of my youth years to enjoy life a little bit more and so I was ok doing them, like skipping classes to go see my girlfriend at the time or hang out at a bar with friends.

Has anyone ever pressured you to smoke or drink? I never like using the word pressured because my friends were nothing but. They did invite me to try out drinking and smoking, but they never forced me to do anything I was uncomfortable with. My decisions were always mine to make at the end of the day.

Did you ever cheat on someone? Never.

Do you give into temptation easily or are you independent? I think I’m a good balance of it? like I will say I’m influenced easily, but I still have the self-restraint to refuse things I’m adamant about avoiding.

U - Unique

Do you do a lot of things because your friends are? That’s the case sometimes, but not for all.

Do you follow trends or do whatever you want? Again, I can be both. It’s nice to like things that can be my own thing, and it can also feel cool to follow trends because it’s easier to relate to others who are into the same things.

Do you give in easily to peer pressure? No.

What makes you different from people your age? I dunno if there is anything that sets me apart. You’d have to ask other people.

V - Value

What's the most expensive thing in your room? Right now, probably the laptop I was given by my employer for work. I never use it though because my laptop works just fine, and I’m already used to how my own laptop works like and feels like; I have little time to get accustomed to a new laptop, given how hectic my work schedule is. It’s also an older MacBook Pro model, so I don’t want to use it even more than it’s already been used by past employees. I had to sign some contract that basically tells me I have to pay for it if I ever do some damage to it, and the current value is a little above P50,000.

What's more valuable: your life or the ones around you? Others’. But I’m also slowly learning to value my own as well.

What's something you value? Not because it’s expensive but it means a lot? Handwritten letters and notes from friends. Ever since I got a corkboard for Christmas last year I’ve been saving up the ones I’ve received and putting them up on the board; I hope to one day fill it up.

If there was a fire in your house/apartment what would you grab? Kimi. Someone else in the family is in charge of Cooper.

Do you think the past or future is more valuable? I think the present is, actually.

W - Wishes

If you had three wishes, what would they be? A sushi platter, a box of macarons, and my bank account replenished hahaha.

Would you rather wish yourself to be happy or others? Again, others’.

Do you believe that wishes come true if you really believe? Sure, but you also have to do something about them if you really want them to come true. Things won’t always come your way.

Have you ever had a wish come true? Yes.

Do you find wishing on things to be a waste of time? Not really; it makes me feel hopeful and gives me a reason to keep doing the things I’m doing.

Y - You

Are you more independent or social? Social. I love being around people. But I also like recharging by myself.

What's something that makes you mad when you see it? Animal abuse, more than anything.

Do you have potential to do anything you want? I hope so.

Do you believe people are born a certain way? No.

What color are your eyes? Dark brown.

Z - Zest

Are you currently happy with your life? I could be doing more if the pandemic wasn’t around, to be honest. But given how much has happened and what I’ve been through, I’m still happy with what I have for now.

When change occurs, do you get scared? Yeah, I’m very resistant to change and I try to avoid or outright deny it as much as possible. I know it’s a problem point of mine that I have to fix.

Do you like to try new things or meet new people? Try new things, yes always. Meet new people, not all the time.

What is the most motivational thing on earth? Money.

Do you have a motto? Nope.

Last questions

Do you hate how the letters on the keyboard aren't in ABC order? No, I’ve long been used to the QWERTY order and never found myself complaining about it either at any point.

Do you drink water? ...What?

What did you have for breakfast? I skipped it today, but this morning I did have a box of these chocolate Korean snacks that was part of the ~care package~ she had sent over to my house last Thursday.

Do you like convertibles? They’re cool. I don’t need to have one of them, but they look nice.

Do you like the American or British way of spelling words? I don’t have a preference in the sense that I dislike one of these, but I tend to follow American spelling.

What colors are on your country's flag? Blue, red, white, and yellow.

Can you skateboard? Nope, I haven’t even tried getting on one.

Do you like long hair? Sure, but not too long.

Do you like Fiber One bars? I’ve never tried them but judging from the name I doubt they would be favorites of mine.

What does your sleeping bag look like? I never need to use a sleeping bag, so I don’t have one.

Do you like to save your results after a survey? Yep, which is why I opened a Tumblr for it.

Do you like Sour Patch Kids? Just some flavors. I leave the other ones because I find them too sour for my liking.

If you could have your own show, what would it be about? Fooooooooooood triiiiiiiiiiiiiiip.

Ever rode on a jet? Not yet.

[insfiringyou]

BTS - They have phone sex with you / their girlfriend

Contains: Lots of smut. Major angst (Suga’s part). Masturbation. Mutual masturbation. Squirting. Mentions of fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex.

Thank you for the request! Although this can be enjoyed by itself - we imagine the girls here to be their girlfriends from our headcanon universe. This is especially important for Suga’s scenario. We have tried to be as realistic as possible to our versions/images of them so, naturally, some scenarios are more explicit than others.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin  /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & Our full masterlist can be found here

Rated writing below cut 

Photo credit on all images below goes to http://bangtan-sonyeon-scans.tumblr.com/

Jungkook

[We imagine this scenario to take place with Young-soon, Jungkook’s second girlfriend, around 6 months into their relationship]

The Justin Bieber hit was half-lost amongst the rowdy chatter in the kitchen. Jungkook almost didn’t hear it, but the soft vibration against his leg drew his attention to the phone. He slipped it out from the pocket of his jeans and pressed the answer button. The others hadn’t noticed that the maknae was distracted; they were currently clustered around the wooden kitchen table, eagerly watching as Jin and Hoseok gave battle with their newly purchased Beyblade spinning tops, purchased for the former for his birthday by Taehyung from Ebay. It was late, but the arrival of the package earlier that day had caused a considerable buzz of excitement. 

Jungkook smiled as he read the name on the home page and drew the phone to his ear as he walked away from the group and towards the door leading into the hallway.

“Hello?” He asked. A roar of excitement filled the room as Hoseok’s blue spinning top circled the table and knocked Jin’s red piece to the floor with a plastic-y clatter. 

“I told you!” Hoseok beamed, giving Taehyung and Jimin a high-five. 

Jungkook shook his head. “I’m sorry...” He called into his sleek, black device. “I can’t hear you...give me a minute...” He quickly left the room and headed down the hall to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. “That’s better...Young-soon?” He asked with a small frown. 

“Hang on...” His girlfriend’s voice rang down the line, followed by a series of rustling noises. Jungkook’s frown grew bigger as he clutched the phone to his ear. He knew his girlfriend had been out that evening with colleagues from her office. They had been heading to a cocktail bar to celebrate her friend, Ha-Yoon’s birthday. As the rustling continued for a few more moments, Jungkook found himself beginning to worry. Why was she phoning him at this time of night unless something was wrong. He checked his black G-Shock - 1:30am. Eventually, after what felt like hours, her voice came back on the line. 

“Hey...sorry...I was just taking off my jacket...and dress.” Her voice slurred.

“Are you home?” 

“Just got in.” Young-soon confirmed. 

Jungkook’s brow smoothed out as he exhaled, relieved. “Good. Did you have fun?” 

“Yes.” She sighed down the phone but did not elaborate. Jungkook waited a few moments for a reply before continuing. 

“Did you want something?” 

She paused for a moment before answering. “You.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but grin at this. He relaxed his grip on the phone and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Did you miss me?” He asked, the smile still fixed on his face. 

“Yes. I wish you were here with me.” She said, the slur more apparent now. His chest seemed to flutter in reaction to her words.

“Are you drunk?” He asked with a grin. The thought was more than amusing; in the six months they had been dating, he had never seen Young-soon more than a little tipsy. She was usually very sensible when it came to handling her alcohol and was often the allocated driver whenever they went to events together. 

“A little bit.” 

He laughed softly. “Do you want me to come over?” He asked, unable to help himself from feeling a little protective over her. He knew that she would have been careful enough to lock the front door to her apartment, but the thought of her drunk and alone still made him a little nervous. 

“Yes...” 

“Okay...I’ll be there soon...” He moved the phone away from his ear, meaning to hang up but her voice rang out of the little speaker, making him bring it back up. 

“No...no...wait...” She called. “Talk to me a bit...” 

Jungkook smiled once more at the sing-songy tone of her voice on the phone. “Okay...what do you want me to talk about?” He asked.

There was another few moments of silence before she let out a small, strained sound. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, clutching the phone closer, his voice littered with worry once again. What if she had left the door unlocked after all? Her apartment, an old multi-story red brick building, was in a downtown part of the city known for its high crime rate. The sound came again and, this time, Jungkook was able to better place it, a moment before she spoke again. She was moaning.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just fingering myself.”

“Oh...” Jungkook felt himself blush red, despite the fact there was no one there to see him. “Do you want me to...” He started to ask but she cut in.

“I wish it was your cock.” 

Her voice sounded breathy and Jungkook paused, letting her continue, not really knowing what to say. He could feel his heart beating hard in his chest and his stomach felt warm. 

“...I want you to fuck me until you cum.” Another breathy sigh. “And then on my tits.” A pause. “And face.” 

Despite the shock of hearing her being so blunt, Jungkook couldn’t help but snort with laughter. He calmed himself down after a few moments before teasing. “Anywhere else?” 

She thought for a moment. “On my cunt.”

He closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. Despite himself, he could feel his blood rushing south. “Are you still touching yourself?” He asked. 

“Yes...I’m rubbing my clit.” 

“Does it feel good?”

“I wish it was you.” Another sigh from her side of the line. “What would you do to me if you were here?” 

He opened his eyes. The connection seemed to lose clarity for a moment as the rustling sound started again. 

“Put me on speaker.” He requested, knowing that it would ease her hands to concentrate on herself. The rustling continued for a moment, before stopping. “Are you comfy?” 

She moaned in reply, letting him know all he needed to. 

“Okay. I’d run my lips all over your body...between your thighs...make you feel good.” 

A pause. “And then what?” Her voice came out breathier than ever. 

Jungkook smiled. “I’d kiss your boobs?” He said, a little tentatively, wondering whether this was what she wanted to hear. 

“What do you like about them?” Her voice teased. 

He closed his eyes once more, picturing them in his mind. “They’re big...” He licked his lips absently. “I like how they feel in my hands. And my mouth...”

She moaned loudly in reply, causing his cock to twitch in repose.  “I love it when you suck my nipples.” 

He felt his breath hitch in his throat, his mind wandering to the last time he had captured her breasts between his lips and remembering how she had moaned against the top of his head, causing a delicious shudder to vibrate through his body. “I like that too.”

“Do you ever touch yourself, thinking about me?” She sounded more sober now; more playful. 

“Yes...” His own voice came out surprisingly breathy. He was tempted to reach down to his lap and slide his spare hand under the waistband of his blue jeans, but he resisted, instead concentrating on the delightful moans which escaped his girlfriend’s lips on the other side of the phone. 

“What do you think about?”

He licked his lips again, his mouth and lips suddenly feeling dry and chapped. He repeated the motion and gulped, soothing his throat. “How you feel when you orgasm.” He heard her sigh and continued. “When your lips are around me...” 

Another gasp from her end, this one louder; more throaty and primal. Jungkook’s knuckles were now turning white from his grip on the phone. “Are you nearly there baby?” He asked. 

“Nearly...”

“I can’t wait to see you again...”

“Me neither.” A few moments passed before he heard her groan loudly. “Jungkook...I’m gonna cum...” Her voice cracked and she gasped. 

Jungkook’s mouth lulled open. “I love you.” He said as she panted on the other side, reaching her orgasm. She was quiet for half a minute as she rode out the shock waves and allowed her breathing to finally slow. 

“I love you too.” She said, eventually, suddenly sounded exhausted. 

Jungkook smiled as she nestled into the bed covers sleepily, the rustling sound of the sheets filling the speakers once more. “Goodnight.” He allowed his grip to loosen on the phone. “Sleep well...” 

He hangs up the phone after another moment, content at hearing the sound of her softly breathing on the other side of the line, and puts the phone down on the bed. He is a little stiff in his trousers but he continues to resist the urge; instead lowering his head in the silent room and allowing himself to calm down. He can feel his body beginning to return to normal; his face and chest no longer feel so warm and clammy. A few minutes pass before he gets to his feet slowly, hearing Hoseok calling his name from down the hall. 

“Jungkookie...where did you go? The game’s not over yet.” 

He let out a low, slow sigh. “I’ll be there in a moment...”

Jin 

[We imagine this scenario to take place with Min-seo, Jin’s girlfriend, around 7 months into their relationship]

You answered the phone on the second ring, reaching towards the bedside table next to you and swiping the screen. He had only been gone for a day, but you missed him already.

“Hello?” You called with a smile, pulling the bed sheets closer to your body and sitting upright against the headboard. 

“Hello Princess. How are you?” Jin asked. 

“I’m good. How are you?” 

“Jet lagged, we just arrived at the hotel. What are you doing?” 

You felt your smile widening. “Laying in bed, talking to my boyfriend.” 

“Me too.” You both laughed automatically, you could almost picture the way his eyes would be crinkling at the corners on the other end of the phone. Eventually, you sighed. 

“I really miss you.” You said, suddenly noticing how sad you sounded. 

“I’ll call you everyday.” He tried to reassure. 

You shook your head, despite him not being there to see. “It’s not the same...”

You heard an audible sigh from the other end. “I know.” There was a short pause. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” 

You grinned as you found your answer straight away. “Your smile.” You pictured his reaction to this and felt your heart skip. 

“I’ll send pictures often.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You better...” You teased pulling the sheets closer as you leaned forward, pulling your knees up towards your chin. 

“Or else?” 

You thought for a second. “’l’ll just get Jungkook to take them for me.” 

He laughed warmly. “I’ll smash his camera!” 

You giggled in reply, already forgetting how sad you had felt a moment ago. It wasn’t the same to just hear his voice, but this made you feel as close to him as you could currently get. “What will you miss most about me?” You enquired.

There was another pause as he thought this through. You pictured the pensive expression on his face. “Your cute little nose...” He eventually replied, making you grin.”Holding your hand...” He continued. “That big blue sweater you wear and your little pink skirt with the pleats....”

“The one I wore yesterday?” Your mind flickered to the memory, just before he left to go to Europe. 

“Yes.” The smile slowly dropped from his voice. “You looked so beautiful yesterday. I didn’t want you to go home...” 

You frowned. “I wish I hadn’t...” 

“I could have fit you in my suitcase.” 

You laugh despite yourself, visualising it. “It’d go over the luggage limit...” You grinned. 

“I wouldn’t mind paying extra.” Jin said. There was another moment of silence as your respective laughter died down. You could feel your own heartbeat in your chest, slowly increasing its steady rhythm. 

“I loved last night.” You said gently, remembering how you had spent your final minutes together. “It was the perfect way to say goodbye...”

You heard Jin exhale slowly on the other side, his own mind flashing back. “I won’t forget it for a long time.” His own voice had softened, the humour gone from his tone. 

You thought for a moment, working up the courage to say what came next. “I love the way you felt...” 

A pause. “How did I feel?” 

You found your smile returning, despite yourself. “Really warm...safe.” You paused. “Really good.” 

You could hear him trying to gather himself on the phone at your reply. He gulped. “You felt good too. Warm...safe...” He mocked gently.

You giggle, clutching the phone closer to your ear. 

“When you clung onto me really tight at the end...I still have the marks...”

You felt yourself blush. “I’m sorry...” You apologise in a low voice. “I couldn’t help it. I just love you so much.” 

“I’m so lucky to have you.” You felt your chest ache at this. 

“I’m luckier.” You replied. “You don’t know how good you make me feel.” 

You could almost picture him shaking his head on the other side on the line. “I just want to make you happy.” You thought his voice had never sounded so sincere. “I love seeing you like that.” There was a breathy edge to his tone. 

“I like to make you happy too.” 

“You did.” He said.

“I wish I could do that to you now...” Your cheeks grew more red as you pushed the conversation further, needing to have him know.

“Do what?” He asked automatically. 

Your cheeks burned. “Make you happy...feel good.” You took a deep breath. “Kiss you...down there...” 

There was a moment of silence as he contemplated this. When he spoke he sounded breathier than ever. “Not if I do it first.” He replied with another gulp, trying to clear his throat. “Kiss your clit...hear you sigh.” 

You felt yourself warm up at the sound of his voice. Your breath hitched in your throat. You wouldn’t touch yourself, not without him there with you, but if you didn’t calm down soon you felt you would go crazy. You gathered your thoughts and cleared your throat. “Are you tired?” 

Jin paused for a moment and when he spoke his voice was almost back to normal, sensing the change in direction. “Yeah, it was a long flight.” 

You shook your head despite yourself. “Maybe you should go to bed.” 

“Mmm.” He agreed softly. You knew, in that moment, that you had worked him up too much and that he would be unable to stop himself finishing once you were off the line. You smiled at the thought. 

“You’ll call me tomorrow won’t you? After the show?” You asked. 

“I promise. I love you.” 

“I love you too. Goodnight.”

RM

[We imagine this scenario to take place with Ji-eun, RM’s girlfriend, around 9 months into their relationship]

The phone was vibrating on the desk in front of you, making the wooden structure rattle. You stopped your typing, pushing your computer keyboard backwards without really thinking, as you answered the call. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi. Are you still working?” Your boyfriend’s voice asks. You turn to your right to look out of the window. Your office, on the fifth floor of a multi-story metal and glass structure building, overlooked a quickly emptying car park. The sky was a dark shade of navy. 

“Yeah.” You checked your watch. It was quarter past nine in the evening. “I’m the only one left on the floor. I’ll leave soon.”

“How are you getting home?” You could hear the concern in his voice. Had he not been away from Seoul visiting distant relatives, you knew he would have offered to pick you up or meet you at the front desk.

“I’ve got the car.” You reassured him. You could just about make out its grey shape in the car park out the window.

“Okay. Make sure you ask the doorman to walk you to it. It’s getting dark.”

You rolled your eyes on the other end of the line. “I will. You don’t have to worry about me.”

There was a pause. “But I do...”

You sighed, touching your forehead gently. “I know.”

“I hate to think of you there. All alone by yourself.” His voice sincere. You found yourself smirking, despite yourself, suddenly feeling the need to lighten the conversation.

“I don’t mind. Nobody can see what I’m doing when I’m by myself...” There was a hint of playfulness in your voice and you hoped he would take the bait.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing yet...what do you suggest?” Your eyebrow raised, despite him being unable to see. You thought he would almost be able to feel the teasing gesture in your voice. There was a long pause before his voice came back, low and sexy.

“Are you sure you’re alone?”

You looked around your private office automatically, your eyes flickering to the window. You slowly got up from your leather office chair and walked over to the large pane of glass. “I’ve locked the door...and I’m closing the blinds.” You reached for the cord and pulled them shut, blocking out the view before sitting back down.

“Are you at your desk?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

“Put your legs up.” He commanded. You rolled your eyes once more and moved your bare legs to rest on top of the wooden desk.Your black heels clicked against the keyboard as you adjusted yourself.

“Okay.” You said.

“Tell me what you are wearing...”

You smirked and looked down at your body. “A blouse...short black skirt...and heels.”

“Does your blouse button up the middle?” He asked.

“Yes. Do you want me to take it off?” You reached out with your spare hand and started to brush the little opalescent buttons with your fingers.

“No. Just your bra...leave a few buttons open.” His voice had started to sound a little breathy and uneven. You temporarily placed your phone on the desk, face up, while you undid the top half of buttons on your blouse, leaving the bottom half loosely tucked in to your skirt. You reached up to your covered breasts and slipped the cups down over your nipples before using your left hand to pick up the phone.

“What now?” You asked, knowing full well what would come next but enjoying the sound of Namjoon bossing you around a little, guiding and advising you like you did so often during your day job. It felt good to lose that responsibility every so often.

“Pretend that I’m touching your breasts...squeezing your nipples. Making them hard.”

Your lips curled in a smile as you flicked your middle and ring finger over the delicate buds. “They already are...”

He let out a small, breathy laugh. “Then you should take those little panties off.” You felt your clit tingle in response. “Reach between your legs and slide them down...”

You complied with his request, once more moving the phone to the desk while you reached under your skirt and guided your black panties down. You had neglected to wear your usual lace style, knowing that there was not much point with Namjoon being away. These were purely practical and comfortable, but he did not have to know that. You let them drop to the floor and placed your legs back on the desk, delighting in the way the cool air from the AC hit you, making you tingle between the thighs.

“Yes?” You said into the phone.

“You should stroke yourself. From your clit to your pussy.” The deep tone of his voice made you throb even harder as you moved your spare hand to your slit and brushed along your pink, smooth skin,

“It’s so wet...” You moaned down the phone. It was true, you were already soaking down there.

You heard him grunt a little in reply before resuming. “Slide your finger inside and tell me how it feels...”

You pushed your index finger against your opening and let out an audible sigh. “It feels tight.”

“Use more fingers...”

You added your middle finger, sliding it against your first, enjoying the sensation of being stretched. You moaned.

“How does that feel?” He asked, his voice breathy and unstable.

“Not as good as your cock.” You heard a soft, choked sound on the other end of the phone and smiled. “Are you stroking yourself?”

“I’m rock hard.”

“From thinking about my tight little pussy?” You teased, your voice sounding more husky by the minute. He groaned loudly in reply and your lips curled into a playful grin as you continued. “My pretty pink lips around your cock?”

“Keep going...” He sounded breathier than ever and heard the faint sound of his hand against himself, pumping ferociously.

“Sucking your tip. Running my tongue along you...tasting you...”

He gulped. “I wish I could taste you...put your clit between my lips and push my tongue inside slowly...”

You could help but moan loudly at this, your fingers working on yourself. You stopped, suddenly, hit by an idea. “I just remembered. I have it with me...what you got me for my birthday...it’s in my handbag...”

You heard a soft gasp on the other side of the phone. “Naughty girl...” He murmured sexily. “Take it out...”

“Hold on.” You reached down with one hand to the space under your desk and grasped the handle of your black, designer handbag. You unzipped the little compartment inside and brought out something which resembled a tube of lipstick. When you removed the top, the lipstick was made of plastic and solid. It was discreet enough to carry in your handbag without being noticed, in case of emergencies such as these. You flicked the little switch on the side of the object and it began to hum softly. You brought it up to the phone so Namjoon could hear.

“It’s working.” You said.

"Good. Trail it along your clit. I want to hear everything.”

You moved the object downwards and did as you were told, pressing the red tip against your sensitive, wet nub. You gasped.

“Does that feel good babygirl?” He asked breathily.

“Mmm.” You agreed, moaning loudly. “It’s really sensitive.”

“Move your hips.”

You complied, allowing yourself to grind against the object for a minute, finding it more and more difficult to be precise with your movements. “It keeps slipping...” You complained. “I’m too wet...”

You heard him moan in response. “Put your phone on the desk on speaker. Use both hands...”

You pressed the screen and placed the phone on the edge of the lacquered surface.

“Can you hear me?” He asked. You made a small, choked sound in reply.

“What should I do now?”

“Put the vibrator against your clit...circle it.” You did as he asked, teasing yourself. “And use your other hand to finger your sweet, pretty pussy.”

“I don’t want to finish without you...” You warned as you moved your spare hand down to your wetness, slipping two fingers inside.

“You won’t...I’m close...” He sounded like he was about to explode with pleasure. You kept up your movement.

“How close? I can’t hold out much longer...” You admitted. You had started to feel the tell-tale warmth in your pelvis which signalled the start of your orgasm.

“Tell me how much you want me...” He sighed, pleading for you to encourage his release.

“I wish it was your cock doing this to me.” You gasped.

“I’m imagining it.”

“The way you fucked me last week...made me scream with pleasure.”

“I can’t wait to feel you cum around my cock.” He groaned. “I’m getting close...”

"Make yourself cum for me...thinking about how good it feels to fuck me...to fuck my wet, tight pussy until you cum inside...”

You listen to him lose himself, uttering a loud, choking sound as he cums. You follow moments after, climaxing almost violently. You can hear his short, shallow breaths on the other side of the line, through the speaker. It takes you both a long while to calm down. You look around the room, slowly, as though seeing it for the first time in hours. You blink.

“Fuck.” You half-laugh. “I’ve just realised where I am. I forgot I was supposed to be working.” You suddenly feel a little embarrassed, despite the kick of pleasure you got out of doing it in such a formal place.

“I think you’ve worked hard enough tonight. You should go home.” His voice is slowly regaining its usual, calm tone.

You agreed, your breath finally slowing down. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Be safe.”

You smiled. “I always am...”

Hanging up the phone, you glance around the space of the office, your eyes scanning the vibrator you have now turned off and discarded on the edge of your desk and at your pair of panties on the floor. You let out a long, slow sigh before you start to get dressed.

Jimin

[We imagine this scenario to take place with Angel, Jimin’s on-off fling, on the night after the events of The Play take place. This scenario also references some events from 7 Minutes in Heaven, where Jimin and Angel first met, and Boat Party where they first had sex.]

He wasn’t planning on calling her, but as the evening wore on and on and Jimin became more and more bitter, he changed his mind. The food was okay - nothing special - and the company was becoming increasingly frustrating. Everybody was coupled up except him, Yoongi and Hoseok, and the latter pair may as well have been for they spent the entire dinner chatting and laughing away on the other side of the table. Jimin was sandwiched in between Jungkook and Young-soon, glowing with affection for each other, and Taehyung and Cassandra, who only spoke to each other. It seemed that Tae was giving him the silent treatment. 

Arriving back home, Jimin reached into his pocket and dialled the number. It wasn’t hard to find her contact details; she had deliberately entered it at the top of his list by starting her name with the first Korean letter of the alphabet. The phone rang a few times before she answered. 

“Hello stranger...” Her voice was low and sensual already. Jimin beamed. 

“Hi.”

“How was dinner?” 

Jimin wrinkled his nose. “We had snails.”

“Gross.” He heard the humour in her voice, making her sound more endearing and less try-hard. 

“Yeah. I didn’t like them much.” Jimin smiled. 

“I didn’t think you would call me so soon.” She sounded genuinely surprised and Jimin felt a pang of guilt. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He said. It wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t think she would much mind. She sounded delighted to be hearing from him again. In truth, he did find her unbelievably attractive and surprisingly charming. The more he considered it, the more he wondered whether it mattered so much why he had initially called her. 

“Were your friends mad at you for leaving?” She asked. Jimin’s mind flashed back to the events before the dinner, when they had sneaked out of the packed theatre to make out in a back alley behind the venue. 

“They teased me a lot over dinner.” He liked again. Taehyung had barely spoken a word to him and the others, after their initial mention of the events with Angel, had been keen to ignore him too, in favour of their respective girlfriends. Jimin shook his head at the memory. 

“About what?” Angel asked, curious. 

“They think we’re an item.” He smiled. 

There was a pause. “Are we?” 

Despite himself, he felt his heart flutter. “Do you want us to be?” 

Angel laughed gently. It suited her. “I wouldn’t have given you a handjob if I didn’t.”

Jimin smirked with a blush, remembering. “I’m glad.”

There was another pause, this time longer, before Angel spoke again. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about...you know...”

Jimin’s thoughts turned away from the events of this evening and cast back a few weeks. “The yacht?” He felt his heart rate increase at the memory. 

“I was thinking...maybe we should do that again...” She said, her voice low and smooth. 

“Do what?” Jimin teased with mock innocence, wanting her to say it. 

“Come on.” She laughed softly. “You know...did you forget?” She smirked on the other end of the line.

“Remind me.” 

Another pause. “Well...we both took off all of our clothes...” 

“And then what?” His reply came out a little more strained than expected. He was enjoying this. 

“I got on my knees...took you in my mouth...”

Jimin felt his breath hitch a little in his throat. He gulped to steady his voice. “Did you like how I taste?” He asked gently.

“I couldn’t get enough.” Now she was beginning to sound worked up. “I would have kept going if you hadn’t have stopped me...”

“Oh?” He raised one eyebrow.

She let out a small, breathy laugh which sounded incredibly sensual on the line. “I love your cock.” 

Jimin smiled sweetly. “I love your pussy.” He replied, already remembering how he had felt when he first touched her through her panties. He was beginning to get hard. “It’s beautiful. Especially your piercing...”

She moaned a little. “Maybe next time I will let you return the favour...” 

“I’d like that.” He paused. “What else do you want me to do?” 

Angel thought for a second. “I want you to show me how talented your tongue is.” She sighed, breathy. 

“Is this turning you on?” He asked with a grin.

“Mmm.” She confirmed. “I can’t help it. I have wanted you ever since the closet.” 

Jimin wondered whether that too was true. He had first met Angel during a game of seven minutes in heaven at her house. He, himself, had been hoping to be paired with her friend who sported burgundy hair and an amazing set of fake breasts. He wondered whether Angel had been secretly hoping for one of his band mates. He shook the pointless thought from his mind. 

“Me too.” He said. 

“I wish the others hadn’t been around that night. We’d have had the whole place to ourselves...”

Jimin smirked. “We made up for it later.”

Angel moaned again, softly. “I touched myself thinking about you that night...remembering how good your hands felt on my tits. I was so worked up.” 

Resisting the urge to touch himself, Jimin wondered whether she was doing the same now. He sighed. “I want you so bad.” He admitted, knowing this time that it was true. 

“We should meet up soon...” She suggested, her voice still a little breathy.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He had dance practise, but the thought of being around Taehyung at the moment, when he was ignoring him like this, was too much. 

“I’m supposed to be seeing Jeong-sun.” She admitted. 

“Who?” The name did not ring a bell. 

“My friend...she sometimes wears glasses.”

“Oh.” He vaguely remembered seeing someone who matched that description on a few occasions. “Can’t you get out of it?” 

“I’ll text her later. Tell her I’m not feeling well.” 

“Do you want to come to mine?” He asked. 

“Will you be alone?” The breathlessness in her voice was now replaced with a teasing edge. 

Jimin nodded, despite her being unable to see. “Yes. The others will be out rehearsing. I’ll tell them I’m not feeling well too.”

She laughed softly. “Sounds like a plan.” She paused. “Now you’re my boyfriend, you don’t have to pull out this time.”

Jimin opened his mouth a little in shock. He gave a small laugh in response. “I can’t wait.” His cock was still a little hard, but he thought he would be able to hold off on it this time. 

“I’ll text you later?” She asked. 

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

They both hung up with matching smiles on their faces.

J-Hope

[We imagine this scenario to take place with Nana, J-Hope’s girlfriend. This takes place a few weeks after the events of You visit J-Hope’s apartment for the first time / he fingers you for the first time. This also references your first time with J-Hope which is currently being written and will be released shortly]

You glanced up from your desk at the oversized analogue clock on the back wall of the classroom and sighed, closing the navy-covered text book in front of you and adding it to the growing pile at the edge of your wooden desk. There was a soft knock at the door as Seo-yeon, from the classroom next door, peeped around the edge.

“We didn’t realise you were alone in here.” She apologised. “Didn’t you want to join us in the staff room before the parents arrive? We’re about to go for a coffee run if you want some?”

You smiled and shook your head softly. “No thanks. I thought I’d try to finish marking these last few books..” You motioned to the small pile in front of you left to mark. 

“Oh, right...got it.” Seo-yeon called warmly. “You’re a lot more productive than me. Shout me if you change your mind.” She gave you a soft nod before leaving, closing the door behind her. You glanced at the clock again - 45 minutes left to go before the first lot of parents were due to arrive at the school. You turned back to the text books but, before you had chance to get to work on the remaining pile, your phone started to vibrate silently from your cardigan pocket. You reached in and smiled as you read the name on the screen. 

“Hello?” You called as you swiped the screen and held the device to your ear. 

“Hi. Where are you?” Hoseok asked. You thought he sounded a little worried. 

“At work. It’s parents evening at six. I’m just finishing up my marking from today.” 

You heard him exhale, relieved. “Oh, sorry...you told me, I forgot. I was expecting you. When will you be finished?”

“About eight o’clock if I’m lucky. Eight-thirty at latest I guess...” 

“Do you want me to pick you up?” His voice brightened. 

You smiled in response. “That would be nice...but maybe you should stay in the car.” 

“Why?”

“One of the kids in my class has your face on their lunchbox.” You grinned and he laughed loudly in reply. 

“Just me? Or all of us?”

You found yourself laughing too. “All of you. Her favourite is Jimin though. Sorry.” 

“Oooh...” Hoseok let out an understanding murmur of agreement. “Well Jimin is very handsome. I can understand.” 

You smirked. “He’s not my type.” Hoseok laughed once more at the dry tone of your voice. 

“What do you want for dinner later?” He asked, changing the topic. 

You sighed. “Something light. I’m on a diet.” It was sort of a joke. You had eaten a large lunch of burgers and fries with the other teachers in the staff room. 

“Why?” He sounded outraged. “You have a great body.” 

You groaned. “I feel all bloated. We had take out in the office for lunch. I’m not really that hungry anyway. I just can’t wait to see you.”

You could hear the smile in Hoseok’s voice. “I thought we could take a shower together.”

You laughed softly, feeling your cheeks heat up at the thought. “You just want to see me naked.” You teased. 

“No. But that’s a bonus...”

You grinned. “At least you are honest. My cardigan is itchy today anyway. I forgot to use fabric softener when I did my laundry yesterday.” 

“You left your nightshirt here. You could wear that?”

“Or I could just be naked.” You raised your eyebrow. Your voice had taken on a suggestive tone without you really realising it. If you weren’t at work, you thought you would be tempted to take the conversation much further. 

Hoseok chuckled. “You know what happens when you are naked...” You could hear his desire in his voice, but he was also trying to keep this light. 

“You can’t keep your hands off me.” You said, feeling your heart rate slowly increase.

“Does it bother you?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

“Why would it? You’re my boyfriend.”

You heard him let out a long, slow breath. “It feels so good to hear you say that...”

“That you can touch me?” 

“That I’m your boyfriend.” There was a pause. “It’s been a long time since anyone called me that.” You heard a pang of sadness in his voice and your chest ached. 

“You’d better get used to it.” You taunted, trying to ease the sting. “I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.”

Hoseok laughed and you couldn’t help but grin widely in response, satisfied knowing that you had managed to make him happy.

You continued. “Who else could make me feel the way you do?” You meant it in more ways than one. 

“Really?”

You paused as you thought whether you should say what you had been thinking. Your mind had flashed back to the last time the two of you had been intimate. You took a deep breath. “I never squirted before you. You know my body so well already...”

You heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone. There was a moment of silence as he took in what you said. Eventually. “I would love to know it better. You’re amazing!” 

“You too. I’ve never met anybody like you.” You confessed. “I’ve never been as attracted to anyone as you.” It felt surprisingly easy to admit this to him. 

Despite the sincerity in your voice, Hoseok laughed softly. “Wow. You’ve not been going out much have you?”

You smirked in reply but found yourself feeling a little sad. You wished he could see what you saw in him. “That’s not true...” You tried to explain. “I meet plenty of people in the park when I walk the dogs.” 

“But did you ever go back to any of their apartments?” He teased. 

“No.” You laughed gently. “You’re the first and I’m glad I did. I wasn’t going to, but I knew I could trust you.”

“How?” He seemed curious. 

“You’re the only person who offered to help me when I lost my earring in the park.”

“You looked sad.” His own voice reflected this. “Anyone would have helped...”

“But they didn’t.” You said seriously. 

There was a pause. “I’m glad you fell over.” 

You laughed loudly, brightening the tone of the conversation. “Did you like seeing me on my arse in the mud like that?” 

“You gave me a bit of a shock when you came out of my bathroom. Your shirt was see-through.”

You grinned. “Pervert.”

Hoseok let out a series of small, breathy laughs as he tried to explain himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare so much. You just looked really sexy.”

You were suddenly aware that you were feeling a little warm between the thighs at the memory of the day you first met. You crossed your legs under the desk as you sighed, remembering. “I can’t believe we...” 

Hoseok cut in. “Me neither. It just felt right. Don’t you think so?” 

“I do. I don’t know why...but I don’t regret it.” You sighed once more. “I wish I’d met you sooner.”

“You too. I like you so much.” He sounded so sincere, you had to control your thought. You coughed and took a sip of water from the metal flask on your desk. You glanced up at the clock - 5:40.

“You’re getting me too worked up.” You confessed. “I’m going to have to go. I need to get this marking finished before the parents arrive.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later. I’ll arrive at eight?” 

“Yes.” You smiled. “Don’t forget to stay in the car. We have a lot of single mothers...”

Hoseok laughed loudly. “Okay, okay...see you.”

You hung up the phone with a grin and placed it back in the pocket of your dark green cardigan. Your cheeks were blushing red and warm. You took another sip of water and screwed the small metal cap back into the bottle, sliding it across the table. You picked up the closest book, belonging to a six year old student called Kim Joo-won and flicked to the last page you could find with writing on it. You grabbed your red biro and began to mark the Maths problems. 

Suga 

[We imagine this scenario to take place with Jeong-sun, Suga’s girlfriend of almost a year. This takes place a month and a half after the events of Stranded (Suga proposes to his girlfriend).]

You were ridiculously tired but knew you would have to stay up a little longer if you wanted to avoid waking up before the crack of dawn. Your eyes flickered from the large, yellow covered book on the bed, to the plastic digital alarm clock on the bedside table. The blocky, red numbers read out 9:15pm. You sighed to yourself, wondering what you could do for the next hour before bed. You had already had a bath that evening in the small tub which sat in the en-suite, but maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have another. 

You were just about to get undressed when your phone rang. You grabbed it from the crisp, white duvet, checked the name on the screen before swiping. 

“Yoongi?” You asked with a small frown. You suddenly realised you had not spoken to him for a few days. 

“Was your phone off? I’ve been trying to call you.” His low voice vibrated through the small speaker.  

“Yeah. I only turned it on ten minutes ago.” 

“Are you home?” 

“No.” You sat down on the bed. “I’m in Busan. In a hotel.”

“In Busan?” He sounded confused. You felt a small pang of guilt in your chest at forgetting to tell him. 

“Yeah. I had to go to a conference.”

“What for?” 

“They brought out a new EpiPen. We had to learn how to mix the correct dosage.” You explained, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in your stomach. “It’s bee season...”

“I’ve been trying to call you all day. I didn’t realise you were busy.” You thought he sounded a little dazed. You were so used to him being away from Seoul that you forget that he could usually rely on you being either at work or your own apartment. The thought frustrated you a little, as though he didn’t expect you to be busy...have your own life. 

“Did you need something?” You asked, sounding more cold than you had intended. 

“No.” He said. “I missed you.”

The simplicity of his reply made you both simultaneously sad and sorry. You found yourself unable to reply. An awkward moment passed before Yoongi spoke up again, changing the topic. 

“So, what have you been doing?”

Your lips curled up in a small humourless smile. “I was just looking to see how many ‘Kim’s’ there are listed in Busan in the phone book.” You turned your upper body on the bed to flick a page. “It’s thirty-four pages.” 

Yoongi let out a small breathy laugh. “Why don’t you just watch a hotel film?”

You found yourself smirking. “I don’t think the company would pay for that...”

Yoongi laughed softly in reply. “No, just a normal film. You can use my Netflix.” 

“I forgot my laptop...”

“I love you.” His voice is low, sincere.

The change in direction took you by surprise and there is a slight pause as you realise why he said it. He needed to hear you say it back. You briefly close your eyes. 

“I love you too.” It’s not a lie, but you feel your stomach sink nonetheless. “Are you busy?” You realised after the question left your lips that one of the reasons you had been so surprised to see his name on the screen of your phone was because you had come to almost permanently expect him to be busy, abroad promoting his new album or on tour or making television appearances or newspaper article interviews of filming music videos or documentaries. 

His answer surprised you. “No. I have the week off.” There is a pause. “How far is Busan?”

You let out a small sigh, realising why he is asking. “I’m not sure.” You admit. “I fell asleep on the coach.”

“It’s fairly close to Daegu. I was thinking of visiting my family.” Yoongi said, the suggestion clear. 

“I’m leaving back to Seoul tomorrow morning.” You said, sighing. “We just keep missing each other.”

There is another moment of silence. “It won’t be like that soon.” His voice is deep and a little shaky. 

“What do you mean?” You are not entirely sure what he is implying but can think of a number of possibilities, none of them good.

He sighed, audibly. “It can’t go on like this. I need to be with you.”

You closed your eyes once more and felt your heart sink. Taking a deep breath you tried to reassure him. “I’ll be back in Seoul tomorrow.”

“Will I see you?” He sounded a little desperate, urgent. 

“I hope so.” You tried to sound bright, lighten the conversation. “I’ll bring you a free pen from the conference.”

You half expected him to laugh. He usually would. Instead you heard him exhale harshly. “I just want to lose myself in you.” He said earnestly, his voice deep against your ear. “I hate being apart from you.”

You shook your head, despite him being unable to see you. “We both knew what we were getting ourselves in to.” You explained, realising as you said it that it was for your benefit too. You needed to hear it. 

“It’s my fault.” He sounded anguished. 

“You’re not the only person in this relationship.” You replied flatly. “I just didn’t expect to fall for you as hard as I did.” You admitted, not for the first time. 

There was a pause. “I did. I knew it when we first locked eyes.”

You sighed. “Don’t tease.” 

He thought for a second. “Okay, I won’t. But I knew I would - for you.”

The worst part, you thought, is that he sounded completely sincere. You didn’t doubt that he believed he was telling the truth. There was another pause as he waited for you to reply. When you didn’t he continued. 

“I really miss you.” He said again. 

“I know.” 

"I wish I could make love to you right now. Forget everything else...” You thought you had never heard him sound so desperate. Well...perhaps once. Your mind flashed back to the last time you had slept together, in the back of his Hyundai. That was more than a month and a half ago. 

You were surprised to feel your eyes stinging. You reached up with your spare hand and wiped the corner. “Do you think it would help?” You tried to keep your voice steady. 

“I don’t think anything else could.” 

“It can’t wait can it?” You already knew the answer and his silence on the other end confirmed it. You went on. “If my phone wasn’t so shit I could show you my tits.” 

“I’ve seen them before.” He replied, his voice dry. It took you by surprise and you grinned. 

“What did you think?”

There was a pause. “That there must be a god.”

You both cracked up in unison, throwing your head back in laughter. A tear that had been threatening to fall finally rolled down your cheek.You didn’t bother wiping it away. 

Catching your breath, you went on. “That good?”

You could hear the grin in his voice. “Best I’ve seen...” 

You took a moment to calm yourself down. Your stomach hurt from your sudden outburst and you clutched it with one hand while you shifted on the bed, lying back to stare at the whitewashed ceiling. You let out a small cough, clearing your throat. Yoongi had fallen silent on the other end too. You licked your lips, knowing what you needed to do. 

“Take out your cock and stroke yourself thinking about them...” You said calmly. 

There was a moment of silence before you fancied you heard the unbuckling of a belt. “Tell me how they feel right now.” He questioned. 

“Sensitive. I can’t work out the AC.” This was the truth, the room was a few degrees colder than was comfortable. 

“Your nipples...are they hard?” He asked. 

You looked down at the strappy grey camisole you had put on following your bath in preparation for bed. “You can see them through my nightshirt.” 

“Take them out and brush your fingers over them.” He said, his voice low and a little breathy. You complied with his request without much fervour, slipping your fingers under the lacy trim which skimmed your upper breasts and pulling them out one at a time so they rested over the top. You brushed your fingers over them slowly. 

“I’m imagining your mouth of them...” You said, allowing yourself to moan a little, knowing it would help. 

“Fuck...” He cried out, his voice raspy. 

“Are you hard?” You enquired, curious. 

“I’m getting there...are you doing it too?”

You considered lying but didn’t. “I don’t know where to start...”

You heard the soft sound of him swallowing, clearing his mouth. You could picture his expression vividly, imagined him licking his lips before he spoke. “Rub your clit.”

Without pausing, you reached down with your spare hand and slipped it under the elasticated hem of your red and grey tartan pyjama bottoms, running your fingers beneath your underwear and probing through your folds. 

“Alright, I am.” You rubbed yourself gently. 

“Keep going...” 

You circled your clit slowly for half a minute in silence. 

“Move your fingers down.” He suggested. You stopped your motion, keeping your fingers still in place. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. 

“Thinking about how much I’d like to taste you.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. “How do I taste?”

He thought for a moment. “Sweet. Salty.” Your heart rate increased. You had never had anyone tell you something like this before. “But mostly sweet.” You felt your cheeks redden. You heard the earnestness in his voice and thought, despite the doubts you had been having over the past few weeks, that you could have fallen in love with him all over again in that moment. 

He continued. “What about me?”

You sighed, thinking. “It’s warm and comforting when I swallow you.” You remembered the first time you had taken him in your mouth, and how content you had felt. 

You heard a sharp intake of air. “I love the way you look at me when you do that.” 

You closed your eyes, picturing him. “You always look so peaceful...untroubled.” You fancied that you could read his expression right not on the other side of the phone line, two hundred miles away. He face would be wrinkled, distressed, as he tugged himself roughly, so different from how he had been when you first met. When you had been able to make him happy to easily. You sighed. “I wish I could do that for you now..” 

He moaned softly. “You are. Keep talking.”

You swallowed, clearing your throat. “I’d put my lips around you and take you all in.” You didn’t exaggerate your voice, but you could tell he was getting pleasure from you telling him this...could hear his breath increasing on the line. You continued. “Hear you sigh as I run my tongue along your tip. Feel you grow hard in my mouth...”

“Your mouth is always so warm.” He purred. “You’re always so gentle with me...” 

You frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you...” 

“You never could.” He whimpered. You felt your stomach lurch unpleasantly, as though you had been stabbed. You didn’t know why. Just that you had the sudden urge to cry, as though you were due a heavy period. You changed the topic, not wishing to dwell on it.

“What are you thinking about now?” You asked.

“Your cunt.” He grumbled. 

You smiled despite yourself. “What about it?”

“How it feels beneath my tongue.” Your clit tingled automatically in response. You fought the urge to touch yourself again, feeling incredibly tired. “And when you pull me in deep..” He continued. “And I can feel every inch of you.” His voice was becoming increasingly breathy and unstable. You knew that the lines in his face would have started to iron themselves out as his eyes closed in pleasure. His long black eyelashes would be brushing against his creamy skin and his mouth would have started to lull open, his tongue resting on his lower teeth.

“How close?” You asked. 

“Close...” He sobbed. 

“Good. Grasp yourself tighter...”

“What about you?” He suddenly sounded uneasy.

You shook your head to yourself as you heard him cry out, his orgasm approaching. “Don’t worry about me.”

It took him less than half a minute to finish himself off. You clutched the phone tighter to your ear, hearing every second of it. You allowed him another half minute to calm down. 

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah. Fuck...” He sounded breathy and disorientated. You heard him stand up and a soft rustling sound started. 

“Are you okay?” You asked. 

“Yeah. I’m just finding some tissues.” You heard the soft sound of the sofa as he sat back down. You imagined him wiping himself; brushing a soft white tissue along his lower stomach, against the gentle trail of black hair which ran from his bellybutton to his crotch, cleaning his long, bony fingers. You sighed. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t...” He apologised. 

“I just feel good knowing that you did.” You said softly. 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” He asked again. You thought he sounded incredibly exposed and somehow young. When had he started seeming so vulnerable to you? 

“Yes.” You confirmed, suddenly feeling as though you were talking to a small child to school for the first time and reassuring them that you would be back later to pick them up. Your chest had started to ache again. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get off the coach.”

“Jeong-sun?” He called, as though he had not heard you. “Tell me you love me.” 

You sighed, feeling your eyes water once more. You had never heard him sound so needy but didn’t need to question why he had asked. 

You fought the urge to sigh, knowing it would only cast doubt in his mind and cause him more anguish. “I really do.” You confirmed. “Do you love me?”

There was no hesitation. “So much I can’t stand it. I hate being away from you.”

“Tomorrow.” You wiped your eyes. “Goodnight Yoongi.”

“Goodnight Jeong-sun.”

You moved the device away from your face and swiped left, switching it off. You looked at the bedside clock. It was late enough to sleep and you moved to the side, switching off the lamp, but wondering whether you would be able to drift off. 

V

[We imagine this scenario taking place with Cassandra, Taehyung’s girlfriend of around 6 months at this point. The political play that is briefly mentioned here is the one which takes place in our fic ‘The Play’]

Taehyung reached out with his spare hand to grasp his phone from the table. His other was clutching himself tightly, pumping up and down desperately. He quickly dialled the number from memory and put the phone to his ear. There was an answer on the fifth ring and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“What are you doing?” He asked in a raspy voice before the girl on the other side could speak. 

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “I’m just knitting a scarf...why?” She sounded a little confused at being called so out of the blue. 

“Take off your underwear and touch yourself.” He commanded, tightening his hold on his cock and letting out a groan. 

There was another moment of confusion before the female voice rang out. “No ‘how are you’?” She sounded both sarcastic and a little irritated. 

“How are you?” He asked. “Are they off?” 

“Rude...” She waited a few moments before continuing. “And yes...” 

“Good. Are you touching yourself?”

“I’m just finishing this stitch...”

He frowned, frustrated. “Hurry up.” His eyes darted around the small dressing room. He suddenly couldn’t remember whether or not he had locked the door. 

“Why so urgent?” She asked. He could practically picture her rolling her grey-brown eyes at him. 

“We are on stage in half an hour.” He walked over to the door, both hands occupied, and peered down at the lock. “And I’m hard.” The lock was fine. 

Her voice brightened up a little. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want to hear you moan - make yourself cum.”

“It might take a while.” She replied, her voice dry. 

“I know you can do it quick.” He encouraged in a low voice. He knew she could too if she set her mind to it. “Stroke your clit...”

There was a pause. “Okay.” 

He waited a few moment, his hand pausing on his cock. “I can’t hear you.”

She moaned, loudly and he started his motion again, squeezing himself, brushing the tip with his long fingers. 

“Better. Now touch your cunt...put your fingers inside.”

“How many?” Her voice returned breathy and he licked his lips absently. 

“Three. Are you wet?”

She sighed sexily. “Getting there.” Her voice was slightly accented from the years she had spent in Europe and he loved her for it. He closed his eyes, concentrating.

“Put your phone against you...I want to hear them sinking in.” A moment later he grunted as he heard the sound of her fingering herself through the speakers of his phone; a wet, juicy delicious sound. 

“Do you like that?” She gasped, her voice sounding quieter, further away. 

He sighed. “You know I do.”

She moaned gently. “It feels better when you do it...”

He opened his eyes slowly. “When I get back I’m going to sink my fingers in so deep...” An idea suddenly struck him. “Does your phone video call?”

There was a pause and when she replied, her voice sounded louder. “If the Wi-fi holds out.”

“Do it.”

“Hold on...” She was silent for a moment before his phone vibrated once, the screen altering him that Cassandra wanted to switch to video call. He swiped the screen right with his finger and held the device out in front of him. “Can you see?” She asked. 

“Yes.” He could see her labia up close on the phone screen. Now that the political play she had been in was over, she had shaved off all the hair down there, citing that she wanted a change. 

“You look delicious...” He commented, his mouth lulling open as her fingers came into view and began to rub between her folds. “Spread your pussy.” He commanded. “I want to see how wet you are...how much you want me.” He watched as she used her index and middle finger to spread apart her lips to show him the flushed pink, delicate flesh of her inner labia. He could tell that she was already soaking; the skin there glistened with moisture and her clitoris looked full and wonderfully swollen. “So fucking beautiful. Can you fit another finger?” 

There was a pause as she adjusted the camera phone a little. “I’ll try...the angle is hard.” She slowly sank three fingers into her opening, pushing in until they were buried up to the first knuckle. She wore a bright, colourful resin ring on the middle finger of her right hand.

“How does that feel?” He asked. 

She gasped. “Full.” 

He licked his lips. “You’re getting so wet...” His grip tightened. “Do you think you can squirt?”

She let out a small laugh. “I’m not a pornstar.” 

“To me you are.” His voice was low, sexy. “I know you can do it.” 

“Hang on...” She pulled the camera away from her cunt and moved forwards. Her the mid section of her body briefly flashed into view. He saw she was wearing a short green patchwork dress which showed off a considerable amount of cleavage. She propped the phone against something, presumably a paperback, on the coffee table in front of the sofa before moving back to sit down, hitching the dress up above her bony knees and spreading her legs wide apart, resting her feet beside her on the seat. He couldn’t see her face; the camera showed her up to the pale, fleshy curves of her breasts.

“Christ...” Taehyung couldn’t help but curse at the sight as she reached down with both hands and began to work on herself, using one hand to rub her clit frantically as the other pushed in and out of her cunt. 

“How close are you?” She asked, breathy, clearly close herself. He had been edging himself for the last few minutes, alternating between firm, rough grasps and lighter strokes and touches, determined to wait for her.

“Just keep going.”

“Okay...” Her voice came out impossibly groany as she increased the speed. She had never been forced to squirt on demand before, but the full, almost painful feeling in her lower pelvis was encouraging. Soon enough, she let herself go and was pleased to see a thin stream of liquid project itself from between her legs, soaking the table in front of her. The low grunt from the phone confirmed that Taehyung had both been able to see this spectacle and had orgasmed himself.

His breathing slowed down. “That was quite a show.” He muttered. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She remained in position, her pussy bare for him to see. Her breasts shuddered with her own laboured breathing. “Don’t you need to be going?” She finally leaned forward, pressing her bare knees together, reaching for the propped up phone.

He checked his watch. “Don’t hang up. Let me see your face first, before I go.”

She moved the phone up towards her face. Her long, slightly curly dyed red hair was up in a messy bun on top of her head and her face shined a little with perspiration. She wasn’t wearing any foundation. He smiled at the sight of her, finding her beautiful. 

As though counteracting his thoughts, she frowned. “I look a mess don’t I? This is what happens when you are away...”

He shook his head. “You look exquisite. I love you.”

She grinned, her face blushing red. “Where are you?”

“Dallas.”

“Break a leg.” She muttered in English.

He smiled, recognising the phrase. It was a term she often used in relation to her stage performances. “I will.” He replied in the same language before turning off the device. 

***

I hope you all enjoyed. 

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook Please check out our full masterlist here for many more fics, scenarios, lists etc. 

You can support us by buying admins a coffee here (if you wish). :)

[beatyoutothepunchline]

On Getting Dressed

Getting dressed in the morning has always been difficult for me. If I can, I will wear the same outfit four times in one week to avoid having to think about it any longer than necessary. My go-to outfit at the moment is my green and black J-Crew plaid button-down, my high-waisted Madewell skinny jeans with the button fly and my Doc Martens. At this point in my life, I do not ask myself, “Do you think somebody will realize you’ve been wearing the same pair of jeans for the last four days?” but, “Do these jeans look and smell clean enough that if someone were to realize you’ve been wearing them for the last four days, they wouldn’t call you out on it?” If the answer is yes, I will throw on the outfit again. I don’t dress to look nice most days. “Nice” meaning my makeup is done, my hair is straight and parts in a way that frames my face in a flattering way, my outfit is coordinated, cleaned and ironed and my shoes match the vibe I’m going for. When I look "nice" there is generally a vibe I am going for and that can vary day to day. A coat of concealer and a flat iron are nice, but it isn’t really necessary. Some days I run around Chicago in an oversized sweatshirt, with bags under my eyes and my naturally wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail. Sometimes I’m more dressed up, others I’m more dressed down. I’m most comfortable in jeans and a tee shirt and because I tend to get more done when I don’t feel like I’m sticking out for looking good or bad. There are certain days where I have to critically think about my wardrobe as I might an essay or an article for class--interviews, dates, holidays--and those days are agonizing. I would argue there is just as much nuance and subtext in the right outfit as there is in a Hemingway short story. Which is why most fashion related things go over my head. But every now and then, I force myself to stand in front of my closet and edit my wardrobe to what I wear. I’m not a person with many clothes, but there are always a few things I find I can get rid of. As I pick up each piece and I asked myself, “Is this still me?” I stopped to wonder, “How did this become my thing? Is it even my thing, or is it someone else’s?” Like most people, from birth till about I was old enough to make my own decision (and for those decisions to be preferably color coordinated, realistic, and weather/event appropriate), my clothing wasn’t my choice. So none of my clothes were my thing, rather what my mom thought would look cute on me. This is why there is a picture of me in an Angelina Ballerina tee shirts and pink capris with a fairy wand and crown on my fourth birthday, and a picture of me in fifth grade wearing a striped, pink white shirt and short sets from Old Navy while on our family trip to Hawaii, and why my first day of school photo from seventh grade I’m wearing a short sleeved and khaki jacket with a lacy pink tank top and black shorts. I can separate my current wardrobe, almost perfectly into black, white, denim, olive green, and varying shades of blue. I have one pink sweater (which my mother bought me) and while I will occasionally throw it on and wear it around my apartment, I end up tearing it off within twenty minutes because of the I cannot stand the color or cut of it. The reason I wear the monochrome is because I am pale and my skin has a naturally pink undertone. If you flip my wrist over, you can see every vein in my arm up to my elbow. You can see the veins in my feet, in my thighs and my stomach. Wearing, black, white, denim, olive and shades of blue makes the pinkish undertone is less noticable and helps the bright blue veins blend in better. Wearing pink, or bright yellow washes me out and makes weird details intense. As for the cut of it, it’s a cropped sweater with side splits up to my ribcage, on top of being wildly ineffective at keeping me warm, it makes my long torso appear even longer than it is, and it just isn’t me. Nothing in my wardrobe is really “me” though. I came to this realization after glancing at the mess of clothes scattered across my bedroom floor while taking a “break” from spring cleaning this last weekend. Everything in my closet I own because of someone else. I own a pair of Gold Cup Sperry Topsiders because my freshman year of high school there was a senior boy with a British accent who browsed the bookshelves of the library before school in a pair of Sperry’s. In the era of Victoria Secret yoga pants tucked into beat to hell Ugg boots and calf-length Nike socks slipped thoughtlessly into pairs of ADIDAS shower slides on the way out the door, his shoes, as well as the pressed khaki pants and button-down shirts, his perfectly gelled hair, and his accent, captured a kind of class that seemed lost on the rest of the students at my high school. Though my own Sperry’s seem to more closely resemble some douchebag college frat guys than the classy look of Boat Shoe Guy’s, when I look of them I think back to being fourteen, working up the guts to sit at his table in the library, not quite brave enough to say anything, and listening to him talk in what I later found out was a fake British accent about things I can’t remember with other, older people and feeling cool. Not in a conventional way. Cool in a nerdy way I didn’t realize I could be until I met him. When I look at the gold hoop earrings I keep in my great grandmother’s teacup with the rest of my small jewelry collection, I realize that my love for them comes from mother, who wore perfect silver hoops earrings frequently throughout my childhood. When I think of them I think of box blonde hair, and regrettable bangs and her capped tooth smile. I’m the opposite. My hair is dirty blonde, I don’t have bangs (never again after my mom cut thick ones so far back on my head that for several months I had Joe Dirt’s mullet). My hoops aren’t perfect circles and they are gold color, not silver.I don’t look or act much like my mother, but occasionally when I put them on I feel like I can fake that same kind of magnetic charm and try to smile with my teeth like she does. I decide I can pull off the hoops, but not the toothy grin and leave it at that. I own a black pea coat because of the movie Giant. Which doesn’t seem like it would make sense give it’s a movie set in Marfa, Texas, but let me explain. My freshman year of high school my grandma bought a copy of Giant for my dad’s birthday and one day a few weeks after she’d given it to him, I found it lying on the buffet in our living room. Being the movie buff I am, and being intregued by the front cover I decided to watch it. The entire time I just kept thinking the blond guy from the front cover was cute (which, in retrospect, is the dumbest take away a person could have after watching that film). After the movie I decided to Google him and came upon a picture of him walking down the rainy street in New York City. Wet cigarette hanging out of his mouth, collar of his iconic black black pea coat poped. And Where I can’t say I’ve ever fallen in love at first sight, I imagine it’s similar to seeing James Dean in that jacket. In an excerpt from ‘Women in Clothes,’ an anthology about how clothes define and shape us, Leanne Shapton, author and artist, writes of a similar love-at-first-sight feeling she with an Isabel Marant dress she saw a woman wearing at a party, “I admired her hair: worn loose, flecked with grey. And her manner: warm, thoughtful, sincere. She wore no makeup, and the dress, which was sack-like, lent her a modesty I liked. We spoke about our children. Then, in a lull in the conversation, I came back to the dress, complimenting it again. She nodded, knowing. Then I did something that surprised me: I leaned down and picked up the edge of her skirt and touched it, marveling aloud at the light, smooth fabric. I have never touched another woman’s dress like that before. A fur sleeve once, but I’ve never had that grasping, clutching impulse.” In her essay, Sharpton wonders if her feelings she had about the dress “also had something to do with admitting I want something. I’ve struggled with admitting what I want most of my life, not admitting until the last possible moment that I wanted a child. Admitting I flat-out wanted this dress was new to me. I was nervous.” Where I can’t say I relate to the wanting a kid portion of that statement, I can relate to the feeling of wanting something. Wanting to be unique and confident, two feelings I don’t feel like I’ve ever fully had but have just been chasing after my whole life. The reason my go-to outfit is what it is is because of directors like Sofia Coppola and Point Break era, Kathryn Bigelow. There is this picture of Kathryn Bigelow standing in front of a monitor next to Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze: white tee shirt, baggy blue jeans, cool boxy shades, and a Reebok baseball hat. When I don’t know what to wear, or when I need to do something I’m not sure I can, I dress up and pretend to be somebody I think can figure it out. Be the woman who can direct a surfer bank heist movie, the woman who can speak French, beautifully while eating a croissant, scarlet lips pouted, Rick Blaine tripping over his shit, the Dude who’s got no idea how the hell things are going to work out, but isn’t too worried about it. Cause maybe things just will in the end. It isn’t an exact copy, it looks similar enough to them that I’m able to capture their attitude, power. . . their magic, but different enough that it’s still me. So I put on my version of that outfit when I don’t know what else to wear because it is comfortable and easy and because I’ve tricked myself into thinking it will inspire some sort of brilliant direction and confidence I don’t feel like I have on my own. Even if it doesn’t do what I think it will and my voice gets caught in my throat and I let someone talk over me, or I get rejected, or I fail and fall flat on my face. When I wear my navy Calvin Klein wrap dress, everyone I know groans and says, “You wear that all the time. Don’t you own another dress?” I do. There is the ombre floor length prom dress that lives back of my closet at my parent's house which I bought because it made me look like Jennifer Aniston, and the crochet white and orange dress that I bought from Urban Outfitter’s because it reminded me of Shasta Fay Hepworth’s orange dress in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Inherent Vice. I don’t usually have the occasion to wear either of these dresses, but the navy wrap dress works for almost any occasion so that’s why I wear it. It creates some shape on my fairly shapeless form, and I like it because it makes me feel like Lauren Bacall. Equal parts sexy, mysterious and classy in a way that I am otherwise not. I’ve never worn it on a date, but I’d be lying if I said if I’d never worn it to a half hour meeting to look “nice” only to walk around downtown Chicago just to see people turn their heads and wonder, “Who is she?” Then, for a fraction of a second, I am the woman I’m not to somebone. When I am at home on Saturday mornings, and my hair is all frizzed out and drooled on and I can’t be bothered to put on actual pants, I walk around in my boxers, oversized and stained Sid’s Liquor tee shirt and a cardigan. I throw on some sunglasses, debate making myself a White Russian and go full-on “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski. Cause it’s hard to relax when you live and work in the same place and I can only seem to do it when I’m someone else. But it is me? Dressing up as someone else might get me through the day, but what if I never take risks as myself? Years from now, will there be some girl who sees a pair of Madewell skinny jeans at the bottom of a pile at a thrift store or finds an old pair of boots that will say, “Oh my god, I love it. It’s so Sidney Thompson.” if I can’t even dress up like her? Am I just a shot for shot remake with nothing new to offer, to contribute, to inspire? Will people see me or will they tease my style apart and say, “Oh, she’s ripping off So-and-So.” I’d like to think I’m more of a Quentin Tarantino homage to all my favorite fashion icons. You can see where I stole, but I’d like to think every now and then there’s someone out there is able to see that part of me poking through one of my costumes and thinks it’s pretty cool.

[caveartfair]

The Astounding Miniature Paintings of India’s Mughal Empire

Unknown artist, Prince With a Falcon, 1600-1605. Courtesy of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

Alexander the Great Enthroned at Persepolis, 1595. Nizami Ganjavi Walters Art Museum

A bloodied and mutilated elephant fills the bottom left of the Mughal miniature Fall of the Giant (1564–79), its writhing trunk and dappled skin portrayed in painful, exquisite detail. Above the elephant leaps a hero about to hurl the villain to his death, surrounded by celebrating musicians and bystanders scrambling to get out of the way. Intricate architectural details and an elaborately tiled floor provide a busy backdrop to the chaos. This odd scene, violent and gorgeous, is one of 1,400 illustrations from a manuscript of an epic tale commissioned by the Mughal emperor Akbar. It’s a powerful example of the miniature painting tradition that thrived under his rule.

Indian miniature painting had existed in various forms since the 9th century, but there was no cohesive vision. Certain styles began to coalesce in the 15th century, but it wasn’t until the Mughal Empire was established in 1526 that miniature painting came into its own. Mughal miniatures are a blend of the bold, vivid colors favored by Indian painters; the fine, delicate lines preferred by Persian painters; and a European influence from artists like Albrecht Dürer, brought to India by Jesuit missionaries. Just like the empire they came from, Mughal miniatures drew from India, Persia, and Europe to create something entirely new.

Mughal miniatures were small (many not more than a few square inches), brightly colored, and highly detailed paintings mostly used to illustrate manuscripts and art books. Despite their tiny sizes, they are incredibly precise, with some lines painted using brushes composed of a single hair. Prince with a Falcon (1600–05), for instance, is roughly 6 inches tall and 3 inches wide, but manages to trace the titular bird’s every feather; the wisps of the prince’s hair; and an entire menagerie of fluttering birds and hunting lions decorating his tunic. These miniatures valued color and extreme detail over shading and realistic perspective, giving figures a static appearance, frozen in positions that emphasize their two-dimensionality.

It’s important to know a bit about the context within which this artistry thrived. Based in northern India during the 16th through 18th centuries, the Mughals ruled as one of the most dominant regimes in Asia. The empire covered most of what is now modern-day India, Afghanistan, and Pakistan, and by 1700, it was the most powerful economic force in the world, with about 25 percent of the world’s gross domestic product.

Beyond military and economic might, the empire was also a watershed moment for Indian art. Founded in 1526 by Emperor Babur, a descendent of Genghis Khan, the empire was famous for its lavish architecture (the Taj Mahal, for one). It was the Mughal gardens, however, that stole the show: exquisite walled spaces filled with flowers, pools, birds, and shaded walkways.

Prince Salim at a Hunt, Folio from a Shikarnama (Hunting Album), 1600-1604. Muhammad Nasir al-Munshi Los Angeles County Museum of Art

Babur and his retinue visiting Gor Khatri, page 22b from a manuscript of Baburnama (The Book of Babur), 1590s. Yoga: The Art of Transformation, Asian Art Museum

Navina Najat Haidar, a curator in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s department of Islamic art, told Artsy that the “Mughal aesthetic is very unified, extending from architecture to painting—so painting and gardens are related. Plus, the Mughal love of nature and observation of plants is closely linked to the representation of flora and gardens in painting.” Many Mughal gardens are preserved as UNESCO World Heritage sites; UNESCO describes Lahore’s Shalimar Gardens as the “apogee of Mughal artistic expression.” These gardens figure prominently in the miniature paintings, and both speak to the empire’s search for refinement and aesthetic pleasure.

This refinement was far from immediate, however; the first few decades of the empire were unstable and chaotic. A 1540 uprising in Afghanistan forced Humāyūn, Babur’s son, to flee his court in order to seek military help. He took shelter at the Persian Safavid court in Qazvin, where he experienced Persian painting firsthand. He was so enamored with the work that when he finally recaptured his home state in 1555, he brought two Persian painters, Mir Sayyid Ali and Abdus Samad, back to India with him. As the story goes, Mir Sayyid Ali had proven his skill by painting a polo match on a grain of rice, complete with goal posts and four horsemen. Hiring the painters was no casual decision. As art historian J.M. Rogers points out in his book on Mughal painting, “Considering Humāyūn’s beleaguered state and the unlikelihood of his ever regaining a stable position in India, the employment of two… expensive painters while he was still in exile represented a considerable investment.”

These two artists stayed at the court for the rest of their lives, and helped Humāyūn found and run an atelier of over 100 painters. The artists spent their days illustrating manuscripts for Persian love stories and Indian epics like the Mahābhārata, along with scenes of courtly life. Jahangir Weighing Prince Khurram Against Gold and Silver (1615), for example, is an opulent scene showing the emperor’s son on his 15th birthday, seated on a scale made of gold and rubies, surrounded by jewels, daggers, and attendants.

The empire peaked with Humāyūn’s son, known as Akbar the Great, who ruled from 1556 to 1605 and devoted an extraordinary amount of time to the arts. Although allegedly illiterate, he filled his court with poets and painters, encouraged intellectual debate, and sponsored ambitious works of architecture. He advocated extraordinary religious tolerance, which brought an unprecedented peace to the empire. Rarely has an empire been so dedicated to the arts: When Akbar died in 1605, his library of poetry, philosophy, and painting was valued at over three times the amount he spent building the city of Fatehpur Sikri.

Akbar’s son and successor, Emperor Jahangir, had an even more single-minded obsession with painting. Rogers describes him as a “visual glutton,” recalling an incident when, rather than help a dying man who asked for aid, Jahangir had his painters “take a portrait…[of his] emaciated face.” Stories like this underscore the way painting was intimately tied to the court, and, by extension, to the desires of the emperor. It was only through the emphasis and funding provided by Humāyūn and his descendents that court painting in the form of Mughal miniatures came to be seen as the highest form of sophistication and elegance.

Govardhan, Shah Jahan accepts a falcon from Dara Shikoh, 1630. Courtesy of the San Diego Museum of Art/Bridgeman Images and the J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles.

Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn, Shah Jahan and Dara Shikoh, 1656-1661. Courtesy of the J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles.

Today, this courtly sophistication appears highly stylized. Certain attributes define the style of painting that flourished in the empire. The characters are fixed, but the hues of the paintings are vibrant and full of life. The bright, jewel-like colors evoke the dazzling hues still beloved in contemporary India: vivid saris and Holi powders, bright orange desserts and multicolored cargo trucks. The vivid colors are as constant in the paintings as the emphasis on courtly pleasure. Prince in a Garden, Presented with a Jungle-Fowl (1590) is a typical image, with the prince and his entourage waiting amidst delicate flowers and trees in order to receive a gift. Intricate portraits of birds and flowers, garden scenes, and royal hunting escapades are all common subjects. Centaurea (1605–27)—only 6 inches by 3 inches—carefully depicts a single flower; A Turkey-Cock Brought to Jahāngīr (1612), also only 5 square inches, painstakingly illustrates each feather in a bird’s plumage, the ridges on its feet, and a scattering of tiny flowers, all within an ornate frame of painted floral motifs.

Each tiny work required an immense amount of technical skill. Before any painting was actually done, the paper was cut to size and polished to such a degree that no ink would absorb into the material. The workload was divided into outlining and coloring tasks, with many different artists assisting in the same illustration. Even as individual artists began to take credit for their work, the labor-intensive paintings were still the result of collaboration between an enormous workshop. Portraits of the artists often show them wearing glasses. The majority of miniature paintings were completed by younger artists; the intense level of scrutiny required to paint such tiny details meant weary, overused eyes simply weren’t up for the job.

The rich inks were frequently made from minerals like copper salts or cinnabar (viridian and red, respectively), but also from more biological sources, like insects, which were used to conjure crimson. The particularly vivid yellow found in the paintings has an unlikely source: the urine from cows specially fed on mango leaves.

By the time Emperor Aurangzeb died in 1707, the Mughal miniature tradition was in full decline. And as the empire weakened, the three cultures upon which the empire was built—India, Persia and Europe—reclaimed the paintings they had enabled. Many works disappeared into the private holdings of Indian officials. The Persian Shah sacked Delhi in 1739, bringing art back to Iran as loot. And, of course, vast quantities of miniatures were brought back to London by the East India Company and its representatives (today, British museums today hold some of the best miniature collections).

The Mughal Empire may be long gone, but it left behind aesthetic sensibilities that remain strong in India today. The affection for Mughal-style gardens is a constant on the subcontinent, and contemporary work like Raqib Shaw’s Garden of Earthly Delights X (2004) revives the saturated colors and extreme detail of the miniatures. The influence of the genre is even more expansive than you might imagine: An intriguing new show at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles explores the surprising connection between Rembrandt and Mughal miniatures, exhibiting 22 drawings Rembrandt made of Mughal Emperors alongside similar images from the empire itself.

from Artsy News