#talked about this to a friend like 13 months ago and i fear it is go time

[romulussy]

and when roman outsources his desire for daddy's love to mencken because logan is dead and gerri no longer fits the substitute role but mencken does not actually care for him so it's a messy manipulative death spiral that makes him so so soooo much worse. what then

[bysaber]

Breaking up ft. Satoru Gojo

Day 13 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — you break up with your partner a few weeks prior christmas.

word count — 1.2k

content — hurt/comfort, gojo is emotionally constipated but he’s trying ok, lowercase intended

notes — today was supposed to be obito’s fic but i wrote this one first because im kinda… going thru the same thing lol. enjoy <3

everything feels out of place as you lay in bed trying to place together pieces of an unfinished puzzle.

two weeks have passed since the last time you and gojo spoke to each other. two weeks since you broke up with him, leaving a part of your heart behind.

you know you have to move on, but it’s hard when you have years of friendship and a one-year-long relationship weighing on your back. you look back to all the efforts you put into it and, foremost, you can’t completely let him go.

you always knew about gojo’s personality, in fact, you fell in love with it. but it became unsustainable when you were the one doing everything while he sat back and watched.

you used to say to him, “you are a good person. you are the best person I’ve fallen for, like a window of light in the dark.�� and never once you regretted those words. you made sure to repeat them to him during the breakup.

you truly believe satoru’s a good person, and he never intended to hurt you. what defined the fate of your relationship was his inconstancy, his fear of emotions.

gojo could shower you with kisses and “i love you”s for days, but they were always half-hearted and, whenever the conversation between the two of you took a deeper turn, he would instantly shut down.

become cold, even.

he also didn’t care much about life in general, talking about several topics and simply forgetting to ask simple questions like “how was your day?”

you knew he cared, but it didn’t feel like he did.

it killed you every time he’d disappear for an entire day, especially on days you weren’t okay, not even bothering to reply to your texts, and then replying with a mere “i was busy” – you knew it already, but a text would be nice.

and to match his emotionless self, you were the embodiment of intensity.

you tried to crack up his shell, always paying attention to what he said and remembering it. you dove head first into every interest he had, and supported him in every choice he made.

you cared, you asked and, mostly, you talked.

multiple times, you tried to express how you felt, how you wish he could open up more and maybe just regard you a little more – a few texts not to worry you wouldn’t hurt. gojo said he was like that, but that he would try to be better.

what mined your relationship was that lie.

because he never even tried.

and after another month of dealing with all of that, with not feeling wanted enough, cared enough, you decided to end everything.

you can’t lie a little part of you hoped he would fight for you, ask for you to stay. but as you watched distress filling his eyes, all he could muster was, “i’m really sorry i couldn’t be better.”

and you lost everything you thought you had.

you blink away your tears, trying to escape from your painful thoughts, and get up from the bed – it’s past seven now and you need to start getting ready for a christmas party at one of your friends’ house.

you need to move on.

after taking a quick shower, you put on the red dress you’ve decided to wear – a dress that gojo bought for you months before – before starting to do your makeup.

this is when your doorbell rings.

you frown, “who is it?” you yell as you make your way toward the door, but there’s no time for an answer before you open it.

you almost close it again when you see your ex-boyfriend standing there, but you don’t. you know you need to be mature about this situation, even if seeing him makes all the walls you’ve been building crumble down.

it hurts.

“gojo.”

you don’t look him in the eye, focusing on his christmas sweater instead. funnily, the one you gave him a year ago.

“can i come in? it’s freezing outside.”

if you looked into his eyes, though, you would see the big blue bag under them. you would see how faded his blue irises are, and how fucking anxious satoru is.

you don’t ask further questions, letting him into the house he knows all too well before you close the door. he follows you like a lost puppy, and keeps standing when you sit on the couch.

“you look gorgeous,” he compliments meekly.

“thank you. what do you want?” it takes all of you to not start crying right then and there, but you know you have to be firm.

“i want you back.”

satoru doesn’t beat around the bush, and the silence that follows is so loud it can be heard. you feel your heart beating in an insane rhythm, and your head spins.

“gojo, you can’t–”

“you were right. you are right. about everything,” he interrupts you. “i was a boy, and for that i’m sorry. i acted like you had to keep up with my shit, like you would always be there, and i’m sorry for that too,” gojo speaks so fast you can barely keep up with him, like he’s going to die if he doesn’t say those words. “i thought i couldn’t change, i thought i didn’t have to. because it is easier to live the way i live, but… it is much harder to live without you.”

“gojo–”

again, he doesn’t let you speak, “don’t call me that. please, don’t call me that,” gojo drops on his knees in front of you and grabs your hand. “call me satoru, toru, baby, love for all i care. just not gojo. i’ve been miserable without you, i never thought a person could get so miserable,” his voice cracks, pulling your hand towards his face in a desperate attempt to be comforted. “i promise you i will do better, i will pay attention, text you all the time, tell you all about my past and what made me who i am, scream through my pain for what’s worth. just take me back, please.”

you are so deeply in shock that it takes you a while to register the tears falling down his face, his eyes closed as he expects the worst.

all it takes is for your thumb to caress his cheek softly, and satoru sobs. you grab his face with both of your hands, cleaning his teardrops as your own fall, and you gently kiss his forehead.

it kills you to see him like that, but at the same time it gives you a reason to live to know that he’s willing to try. for you.

you kiss his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips.

satoru whimpers, pulling you into an embrace so strong you’re afraid he’ll never let go.

“toru,” you say when you part your lips and bury your face in his neck, feeling his scent. “everything’s okay now. i’m here, i’ll take care of you.”

“missed you so much, i’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“i missed you, too,” you confess, finally looking into his eyes and frowning when you notice he hasn't slept. “what’s past is past, we’ll be okay. but i guess we should just sleep a bit, hm? it was one hell of a ride.”

“sleep together, right?”

he sounds so clingy, you chuckle lightly.

“yes, toru. together.”

[lynxiesblog]

It’s been almost a year since my last upload, so here’s a list of things I manifested since then 💖

Hii my luvs <3 here’s a list of things I manifested in the past 11 months ! Hopefully this helps you stay motivated about your desires because everything will work out .

This is also inspired by @youalreadyhavefullresults

・an iPhone 13

・money being given to me just because — literally got 160$ last week in CASH 🥰

・straight A’s in all my classes

・people complimenting me a LOT more — like every time I go out someone is either complimenting : my scent (my perfume), my makeup, my face, body (in a good way and non-creepy way), etc.

・braces — I had my braces at the time when I posted my 3dolc X Roe challenge but I’m still going to say I manifested them 🙄

・more friends — so many people that were in my grade and class last year that I didn’t talk to became my friends. My overall friend circle grew bigger

・more guy friends — most of my friends were girls which I love but I wanted to have some guy friends too and I got some 🤭 many of them added me to their close friends on Instagram and we hung out a lot during school (low key miss them)

・multiple people having a crush on me — I don’t know how to word this without it sounding weird but yeah😭. I had 4 dudes tell me they had a crush on me and they were low key attractive but my parents are kinda strict so no boyfriend for me (yet)

・my teachers liking me / being one of their favourite student — one of my teacher boosted my grade on my final report card, I didn’t even do any work that could give me extra credit.

(Pro tip : always be nice to your teachers like it’s so beneficial on the long run. Even when they’re low key assholes don’t hold a grudge)

・my anxiety whenever I have to present a presentation or speak out loud — I used to be so scared whenever I had to make a speech or just talk in front of people at school but I my fear went down. I’m still kinda nervous but so many subliminals helped me get over it.

・HUGE GLOW UP - OH MY GAWD, you guys I became so much prettier since I was last year no joke. I’ve had so many people stare at me in awe and compliment me. Like two weeks ago I was going grocery shopping alone since I have a store really close to me and I had to take the bus (I don’t have my drivers license yet 😔) and this lady that I sat next to full on turned and kept staring at me. When I looked at her she just smiled like kanaosj’akah!/&/$/78[•\*£\’s pls 💞

・acrylics — my mom wouldn’t let me get acrylic nails unless it was for a special event but she’s been letting me get one every month and I’m so so grateful

・a better relationship between my mom and dad — they have gotten so much nicer to one an other like my dad started buying gifts for my mom. It doesn’t happen very often but it’s a start

・my mom’s health

・a fun summer — compared to last year this summer has been way more exciting, even though I took summer classes for the month of June I still had so much fun and I still have a whole month to go

・finding lost items — you have no idea how many times I lost my AirPods because I sleep with them on overnight and whenever I wake up they are no where to be found 😭😭.

・getting a second ear piercing on each ear — my mom told me I could only get a 2nd piercing when I’d be 18 but I didn’t feel like waiting that long so I manifested she let me get them and she did 🙈. I got them last year during the time I posted my last post

・getting a KITTENN and a CATT — I’ve been wanting one so so badly and I’m finally getting one

・getting more clothes — I already have so many clothes and my mom said she would stop buying me some for a while , but she still bought me some and they are on the way 💞

・my parents finally getting their dream house 😩

・cute moments between me & my crush 🤭🤭

・greener eyes — my eyes have been getting lighter and look more green

・prettier 😽 (iykyk 😭😭)

・toxic people out of my life — specifically my old “friends”

[daydreams-after-dark]

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 13

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Premise: fem reader + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: We get some insight into Jisung's perspective.

a/n: my baby boy Jisung. I think this is my most favorite chapter of all of them... but the one after this is going to be pretty good too.

Warnings: oral sex, unprotected p in v sex.

Jisung pov.

Jisung woke up in the middle of the night still wrapped up in your quilt and still very naked. He rubbed his eyes and wondered what time it was. He groaned as he unraveled himself from the bedding and searched for jeans to retrieve his phone from the pocket.

3.20 am. Would you and Chan be asleep yet? He decided to take a chance, and with nothing but a throw blanket wrapped around him, and his phone in his hand, he padded down the hall to his and Chan’s room.

He stopped at the door and pressed his ear up to the timber. No signs of sex noises. Must be safe. Gently, Jisung pushed the door open and crept inside. He wasn’t prepared for the emotions that hit him as he entered the moonlit room. Excitement. Fear. Relief.

Chan was the love of his life. He truly thought there would never be anyone else for him. Until the day he met you. A year ago next month. Chan had invited you to come watch the band play at a club. “This is an old friend, y/n.” He introduced you to him. Jisung thought he had lost access to oxygen. You were stunning, in a unique, weird way. You were one of a kind, and you took his breath away.

Over the past year year, Jisung noticed Chan would talk about you more and more. Jisung knew Chan was bi, and Jisung wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised to learn that Chan had a thing for you.

“Channie, Hyung. You like her a lot don’t you?” Jisung had asked one night after making love. “Hmm, yes Sungie… but you’re the only one for me. You’ll always be the only one for me.” Jisung couldn’t bring himself to share his own feelings about you. He was confused by them. Han was bi too, and although he had slept with women before, he had never really fallen for any. To suddenly have images of squeezing your ass or wondering what your pussy felt like, as well as have his heart pound like he was having a heart attack whenever he saw you, was a new feeling for him. He could never bring himself to sharing those thoughts and feelings with Chan. He wasn’t sure why.

He felt like he was betraying him though. When he’d masturbate to the thoughts of you, he’d feel like he was cheating on him. Even though he knew perfectly well that Chan would jerk off to you. It didn’t bother Jisung that his lover fantasized about you, but he felt so fucking guilty when he did it himself.

But now you were going to be their girlfriend. He couldn’t believe what was happening that first night, when he got to be with you. On the couch. He was so nervous that he wouldn’t know what to do, or how to touch you. It’d been so long since he’d been with a woman. But with Chan urging him on, and the way you responded to his touch, Jisung lost it, ending up a quivering mess. He wondered if Channie knew that he had feelings for you?

As Jisung approached the bed where his lovers slept, he was certain the pounding of his heart would wake you. There you were. Chan was sprawled out on his back naked. He was out of it. You were curled up against him on your side. The single, thin sheet barely covering you, offering Jisung an outline of your bodies underneath. Jisung smirked at the thought of what you had been up to as he dropped the throw blanket to the floor and slipped in beside you.

“Is that you Jisung?” You squeaked. Jisung stopped still, he hadn’t meant to wake you. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You carefully rolled over onto your other side and wrapped your arm around him. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

You leaned into the side of his body and nuzzled your chin into his neck. Jisung’s breath hitched at the skin to skin contact, and his heart was emitting a delicious warmth across his chest. This felt so intimate. So special. Like you were the only two people awake on the planet.

“Baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll always come for you.” He couldn’t help but quip, even in a moment like this.

You lifted your head to find Jisung’s lips, seemingly ignoring his childish joke, and instead gave him a long slow kiss. You tasted like Chan, and it made Jisung’s dick hard.

You removed your lips from his, and slowly kissed your way down his torso, while your hands explored the peaks and valleys of his muscles. So far your interactions were all about Jisung serving you, but right then it seemed you wanted to take care of him.

Without being able to see you clearly in the dim moonlight, Jisung’s skin was more sensitive and your touch made him shiver in the best possible way. His nerves tingled, and he had to focus all his concentration on not moaning too loud so as to not wake Chan.

Then he felt it. Your hand around the base of his cock, gripping him firmly. He sucked in his breath as he felt your hot, wet mouth take him in. You didn’t even tease him with a kitten lick, or a swirl of the tongue, you just sunk yourself right down over his shaft and paused when your lips met your hand. Jisung gripped the sheets underneath his hands trying to anchor himself. So this is how your mouth feels around his cock? He thought to himself. Then your started to move, taking your mouth all the way up so just the head of his dick was between your lips, pausing, and sinking back down in one motion. Such sweet agony.

“Y/n, please.” He begged, squeezing his eyes tight. Part of him wanted you to keep going like this, but he needed to be inside your pussy.

“You taste so good, Jisung.” You whined.

“I need you… to make love to me.” Jisung whimpered. “Please… need you..” He panted.

You released his throbbing, leaking cock and crawled your way to lay on top of him, straddling him and taking his mouth in another tender kiss. “Jisung,” you ground your core against the length of his cock. “Need you too… so bad.”

Jisung gripped your hips, lifting you up so he could maneuver himself, the tip of his cock prodded at your entrance. Your winced as the tip began to stretch you.

“Baby?” Jisung questioned. “Are you sore? We don’t have to do this tonight.”

You hesitated.

“Baby? I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered.

You pulled off Jisung’s cock and laid against his torso, and he wrapped his arms around you. “It’s okay, baby.” He soothed, stroking your back.

“I really want to, Jisung…” you sobbed.

“Hey… we’ll have plenty of time to do this.” He kissed your hair. “Actually, I know what I want to do…Lay on your back for me, baby.”

You rolled off of him onto your back as instructed, and he shimmied down between your legs, pushing them apart gently. He held your thighs apart as he gently licked your lips. He couldn’t see anything but he could feel you were swollen. Binnie had been brutal with his ministrations, and Jisung wondered how on earth you managed to take Chan after that. Jisung wanted to make you feel better. He wanted to sooth your abused pussy with with tender kisses. He worked slowly, using a flat, wet tongue to deliver sloppy kisses to your sensitive core. You moaned in approval. He dipped his tongue between her folds while his lips massaged your outer labia. He heard your breathing pick up and your hips began to rock slightly. He hooked his arms under your thighs so he could nuzzle in more, lapping up your pussy like he was the thirstiest man alive.

You laced your fingers in his hair, tugging his locks, pulling him against you. But Jisung had no plans to go harder or faster. He wasn’t in any hurry.

“Ji… I’m ready now… ready for your cock.” You whimpered. “Let me try riding you again.”

Jisung peeled away. “Are you sure, baby?”

“Please let me try… I really want you.”

Jisung repositioned himself on his back and you straddled him once more.

“Lean down on me, baby… yes like that.” Jisung directed you to lay against his chest, and he guided his hips to line himself up.

He moved slowly as he penetrated you, and you both gasped at the squeeze as he filled you up completely. For a moment you just stayed like that.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes… I love having you so close to me, Jisung.” You breathed.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Jisung’s voice was deep and gruff. The desire he felt was so thick, so strong, he thought his body was going to explode.

“It’s been less than day.” You rolled your hips trying to build some friction between your bodies.

“No, baby. I’ve wanted you so much longer than this week.” He instantly regretted saying it. You stopped moving. Jisung closed his eyes, berating himself internally. From what Jisung could tell, your feelings were new. You were still figuring them out. Maybe it had been too much to confess that he’d felt something for far longer?

“How long?” You said coolly, hovering above him but remaining still.

Jisung hesitated. “Not as long as Channie, but…” he swallowed. Should he admit to how long? He hadn’t even told Chan. You brought a hand up to caress his cheek. “Please tell me.” You breathed.

“The moment I saw you.” There he said it. He said it out loud.

You leaned down and hugged him tight, then found his mouth again. This time slipping your tongue deep inside like you wanted to crawl inside of him.

Jisung broke the kiss and held your face in his hands. He could hardly see your face. “Are you mad?” he said shakily.

“Oh Ji,” You sobbed. “I’m not angry. I’m just so sorry I’ve made you wait this long.”

Jisung’s eyes prickled and tears began to roll down his cheeks as emotions flooded him. He was thankful you couldn’t see him crying like this.

“Let me make it up to you Jisung, my love.” You kissed his cheek, your lips would no doubt have tasted his tears, then you began to roll your hips again, undulating on top of him, squeezing your walls around his cock. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you began to make love as quietly and as still as possible.

As the tension built, you started to move more frantically, sitting up so you could ride his cock harder and faster. You both tried to stifle your moans as your neediness took over, and Jisung sat up too so you could muffle your whimpers with each other’s mouths. Jisung’s hand slid down between your bodies, finding your clit and circling it the way he knew drove you wild. He knew your body so well already and you began to rock your hips with abandon. Jisung snaked his other hand around to cup your ass and he began lifting you up off his cock and slamming you back down so you could get as much stimulation as possible.

Sweat covered your skin, and tears marred your faces as you reached your climax together.

Jisung had never felt happier than he did right in that moment.

--------------------------

Chan pov

Chan pretended to lay asleep as he heard his Jisung and you make love. Now you lay quiet in each others arms, spent. He didn’t know Jisung felt that way about you. He was too caught up in himself to notice the signs. Poor Jisung. Chan vowed then and there to make sure that he felt safe enough to share anything with him. But now everything was going to be fine. You had each other now. Him, Jisung and you.

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta @shltsnglggles @lilbabiebunni @jiminssluttyminx @armystay89 @krayzieestay @stellasays45 @hxnnielk @yaorzu-blog @anjian03 @tsunderelino @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @privhace @kyunchoni @writhingwrecked @kisses-too-the-moon @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @meilix @ismokeeweed @leftovercigarettes @galaxycatdrawz @grandma143

[alphabetboyluvr]

bad decisions - jjk | thirteen

When you open your eyes, you avoid looking towards the mirror. You look down, look away. Jungkook notices. He nudges the side of your head with his own. Realigns it. Encourages. "Watch." He speaks quietly, the dulcet tone of his purr just loud enough for you, but untraceable to anyone outside the room. He doesn't want Jimin to hear. Doesn't want Jimin to know. It's not that he was lying when he said Jimin wouldn't care—he genuinely believes it'd be no issue, especially with context provided—it's just that he hasn't figured out how to explain it.   'Oh, the girl you shagged a few months ago? We're friends. Pretty good friends, actually. And I'm touching her boobs to help her get over a fear. Totally normal.'

Bad Decision #13 - Work of Art

warnings: jungkook discovers boobs! we rejoice! wahooo!! okay so this entire chapter is basically titty worship (no titty sucking (sad)). lots of paint. curious art. shower (again) mutual masturbation (for realsies this time) jaykay aka my dream man. the chess plot device is born! the mirror kink is also born! WE THRIVE!!

soundtrack: vibez- zayn

wc: 11.8k

bd total wc: 370k (on-going)

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

"Why did you write it like that?"

"Like what?" you say, coming to sit beside Jungkook at a pair of easels towards the back of the room. The last few tasks were carried out by the pair of you, Jungkook insisting on helping despite the fact he had no clue really what to do. You'd ended up asking him to move a couple of boxes you couldn't reach just to appease his need to lend a hand.

He looks at your bird once more, and holds it open for you to read again. You knock your head to the side and shrug.

"Guess it's just how I feel about it."

"Like screaming?"

"Kind of," you laugh. It's written in just the same way as the last one - full capital letters, zero context, and more exclamation points than any one person should use. "I guess it's like... a big one for me?"

"How big are we talking?" Jungkook asks as he looks at it again. It's just a single word, but he knows there's more to it than meets the eye. There always is with you.

You pull one of your feet up to the chair and wrap your arms around your knee. The apron you'd been wearing earlier is up on a hook, and Jungkook finds the simplicity of your outfit all very intriguing. You're monochromatic, which isn't much of a surprise, in a large white shirt and black slacks. The caps of your hightops peek out from the hem of your trousers, and a satin scrunchie is around your wrist instead of in your hair.

You're lacking a little sparkle. There's still some across your lashline, and little specks on your skin that your makeup remover hadn't managed to get, but what with the paint and the two showers you've had since the paint party, there's really not all that much left.

He wonders if there's any glitter glue in the art supplies. Thinks you should just use that instead. You're really not quite yourself without it.

"My ex was a tittie guy," you say, and Jungkook's eyes widen as if he'd forgotten the topic of conversation. You laugh. "Is it really that much of a surprise? Ass guys are hardly gonna go for me."

"Your ass is fine," Jungkook says. He means it as a compliment, but realises 'fine' isn't the way to ever really describe a woman's assets—and so he corrects himself. "Good, I mean. Your ass is good."

There's a look of disgust on your face as you question why on earth he's been looking at your ass, which causes him to roll his eyes. There really is no winning with you.

"I'm an ass guy," he shrugs.

"Doesn't give you any right to look at it."

"Oh give over," he laughs. "It's literally just a body part. No different to me looking at, I don't know... your wrist. Something like that."

"Well, it depends," you argue back. "Are you into wrists?"

Regretfully, the answer is yes.

"I don't know!" Jungkook protests when you grill him for how the fuck he can be 'into' wrists. "They're just dainty! And pretty! I don't know! It's not my fault."

You narrow your eyes, and hide your exposed wrist behind your knee. He looks at you with a poorly hidden smile, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. His lip ring always dances along his peachy bottom lip when he does so, and it makes you laugh - but you're still feigning disgust.

In all honestly, you like your wrists. Would put them in your top five for your physical attributes. Completely understand why he would be into wrists, just like you're into forearms. You like arms that feel safe.

Kind of like his.

But still, he's an ass guy.

"See, this is why you and I would never work," you tell him, and nod to the piece of paper he's still holding, adorned with a singular scribble:

!!!!! TITS !!!!!

"We want different things," you clarify. "You're after a good ass, I'm after a guy who knows how to handle a pair of tits."

"Hey! That's not fair. I never said I didn't know how to handle them," he scoffs - although now he comes to think about it, he's not sure he actually does. "Like, sure, maybe my exes have all had great asses, but they all had a pair of tits, too. I'm not opposed to a pair of tits."

"Yeah, but there's a pair of tits, and a pair of tits, yanno?" You say, using your hands to really emphasise the point. "Anyway my ex really liked them."

"So?"

"So, I really liked that he really liked them," you shrug. It's painfully obvious to you, but Jungkook is still a little confused. "I just... The idea of someone else doing what he did to them just... makes me wanna run, yanno?"

"The fuck did he do them?" Jungkook laughs.

"Nothing obscene," you smile, though when you think about it, perhaps 'obscene' is the only way to describe how much he enjoyed them. "I guess it's more so that it was always a part of sex? Most guys I've been with pick and choose whenever they want to deal with them, but with him..."

You don't mean to trail off, but fuck. You're thinking about Seokjin, how his plump lips would trail down your throat. He'd inhale the scent of your perfume and fucking whine, only stopping to latch himself to your nipples. Would spend more time on your tits than he would any other part of your body. Spent so long once that he made you orgasm from the simulation of it all alone.

And so now they're off limits. It doesn't matter who it is. The second someone reaches for your bra, you shake your head, reposition their hands, and pretend you hate your tits being touched. It's not like it's an unreasonable lie. You know it's one of Danbi's least favourite forms of foreplay. If anything, she'd be a good match for Jungkook. In fact, now you come to think about it, she's got a cracking ass from all of her dog-walking.

Maybe you should cool the deal off. It's highly likely they're compatible. Fucking around with Jungkook would only complicate things in the future if they discovered that themselves - but you know Taehyung's interested in her, and Jungkook hasn't given any indication of interest further than friendship with her.

It's not like this is anything beyond friendship, you reason with yourself.

Jungkook stays quiet as you work through your thought process. Assumes you're skimming through traumatic memories. Doesn't realise you're actually playing matchmaker in your head for him and your best friend.

"But with him?" He asks.

You're drawn from your thoughts. Feel a little guilty. Wonder if you should really be doing this - not for your sake, but for his.

"Are you sure about this?" You ask, ignoring his question entirely.

"About?"

"Doing my birds?"

He purses his lips - and now he feels guilty, too. Funny, how you're both more concerned about one another than yourselves.

"It's entirely your choice," he says. Doesn't want you to feel pressured into it - but it just makes you feel like he feels pressured into it.

"No, but, that just feels to me as if you don't want to," you tell him. "And like, that's totally fine, if you don't, but-"

"Byeol," he says all rather plainly. "I'm the one who suggested it. If I didn't want to I wouldn't be here right now, would I? I sought you out. I came here. This is all on me."

The worry on your features softens, and he's pleased to see you smile again no matter how subtle it may be.

"Only thing I will say is that I don't actually know what 'exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, tits, excla'"—

"Kook, you don't have to say every single exclamation point."

"Right," he nods. "Well, that. I don't know what that exactly entails."

And truth be told, nor do you. So you just sigh. Press your lips together a little tighter than usual. Think about it for a moment. Draw a blank. Furrow your brows.

Jungkook looks just as perplexed as you. He's looking away, trying to find inspiration in the room around him—and when his eyes land on the 'gallery' wall where there are imitations of famous works, an idea comes to mind.

"So this is all about separating physical acts from emotional intimacy, right?" He says, and when you nod, he continues. "So what if we do something that involves"— he laughs, because he's a child. —"Touching your tits"—

"Real mature."

"Shut up. We'll do something that involves touching your tits," he has to pause so that he doesn't laugh, but you're grinning too. Just as immature as he is. "But something that isn't sexual at all."

"Alright," you muse. "I'm listening."

"You got any black paint?"

You narrow your eyes. Turn your nose up a little. Question if he's lost all of his brain cells. "Jungkook, this is an art cafe."

"I didn't wanna just assume," he feigns offence. "Are there security cameras in this place?"

"Only by the front entrance. None into the studio area."

"Okay, good. Go get some black paint and I'll get the blinds."

"No blinds," you say, nodding over the windows. "Chiffon curtains. If we turn the main lights off and just keep the lamps on, it should all be obscured. Let's just... not be too close to the windows—and what's the paint for?"

"Will tell you in a bit," he says as he heads to the windows. "Chop, chop, Byeol. We've got a fear to overcome."

You stay as you are for a moment, watching him with unrivalled wonder. There's an enigmatic energy to him that makes it seem as if he's the one constantly covered in glitter, not you. It's quite alarming that this is Jungkook operating at half capacity. His confidence was knocked quite considerably after his heart was broken, and he's yet to recover. You know this. Know that's what his birds are all about. Know that once you've worked through them with him, he'll be an unstoppable force of nature.

In the time you've known him, he's been nothing but an angel. Cocky? Yes. A little petulant? Make that incredibly petulant. And yet he's a joy to be around. Shines without the need for artificial sparkles. You envy it. Wish you could emulate it.

It's as you're getting the paint, and a few extra supplies that you'll figure you'll need - some brushes, some washcloths - that Jungkook begins to explain himself. He's drawing the curtains shut, glancing over at you every few words just to check you're paying attention.

"So I saw a video the other day - something to do with easy Halloween crafts, don't ask - and there are two options for you. One of them is quite literally painting your tits and pressing it against a canvas"—

"You are not painting my tits."

"Noted. The other one was way more family-friendly," he says, before he mulls it over and changes his mind. "Kinda. Maybe. It's a skeleton hand shirt."

"Okay..."

"It's super simple, one person covers their hands in paint and basically just grabs the other persons tits"—

"Does that mean I can grab yours too?"

"I don't have tits, I have incredibly defined pecks," he states rather sharply. "Please rephrase the question, Byeol."

You just grin. "Can I grab your tits?"

"No."

"Boring."

"Look," he smiles as he walks over to the easels where you'd been sat before. He turns the chair and sits on it backwards, arms resting over the back of it. There's a casualness to the way in which he carries himself. One that you quite enjoy. "This is a quick, easy and totally platonic way for you to have your tits touched, and it not be sexual at all."

"It'll just ruin my shirt."

"Or not," he says as he nods up to the wall where canvas sizes are displayed. There's also a plain tote bag and white tee pinned to the wall, still up from a promotion put on during the back-to-school season. It had been Hoseok's job to take them down, but he'd just broken up with his girlfriend at the time and had spent the entire week face down in the back room - getting him to do anything had been impossible - and so they remain as they were. "Would your boss notice if one went missing?"

You shake your head. Your boss really has no clue about the day-to-day goings on.

Still, you're hesitant. "If I get fired"—

"Then I'll fire Yeonjun and you can have his job," Jungkook bullshits. If he was gonna fire anyone, Yeonjun would be the last to go. "C'mon, you gotta stop stressing the small stuff, Byeol."

You're making excuses. You know you are, and so does he.

"Can we at least do it at your place?" You ask. It feels rude to invite yourself to his apartment, but it's honestly probably where you feel most comfortable. It's where the birds are, and it feels like a sanctuary for your fears. When done in the confines of his room, you're able to shut them away and never think about them again - at least not until you return.

Jungkook thinks it over. He's got no problem with it, just isn't sure if Jimin is in. He tells you as such and is met with a shrug.

"If he's in, he's in," you say. "We can just say we're working on planning an event for Tae's exhibition, say that I'm using you for cheap labour."

"Oh shit yeah," Jungkook gasps, suddenly reminded of the fact Taehyung had been here with a purpose. "How did it go? You think your boss will approve."

You nod. "Don't see why not. It's a solid pitch and we haven't held an exhibition in a while. I have some contacts saved up from our last couple of shows so can get together a guest list for the opening night."

It's more than Taehyung would have hoped for. The painting cafe is unassuming, in a way, which makes it a great underdog location for hosting such events.

"Sorry to have sent him here without warning," Jungkook adds. "I wasn't even sure if you did things like that."

"Not often," you admit. "I really enjoy them, though. I'm always keen for more."

The pair of you gather up your things and head back to Jungkook's place, talking about his friends, and their careers. You learn Taehyung is an artist by night, but a teaching assistant by day, which makes his love for arts and crafts all the more sweeter, you decide. Jimin works at a local interior design firm, which suddenly makes so much sense considering the books you remember being on his desk when you were bent over it.

Namjoon works at the local off-branch of the national paper, with a focus on environmental reporting, which is how he'd met Yoongi, who works as a sustainable carpenter, specialising in local woods and materials. Running his own studio, Mins, he'd done a promotional interview a few years back around the time it opened, and had then introduced Namjoon to the rest of the boys.

Their friendships run deep, and it's nice that Jungkook is so willing to share that part of his life with you. The way he sees it, you're well on your way to becoming a part of the group, too.

When you arrive at Jungkook's place, he enters first.

The shower is running, loud enough to obscure any noise of his arrival, so he ushers you in and straight to his room. The sneaking around is getting a little old already, but he figures soon enough it will be commonplace for you to hang out with the both of them.

Jimin isn't naive to your friendship, he just isn't aware quite how friendly you've become.

And so you keep your voices down, even when the pair of you are trying your hardest not to laugh, hands covered in paint, neither of you wanting to be the one who goes first. He's in a black shirt, so your hands are covered in white paint. You're in white, so his hands are coated in a layer of black paint instead.

It's stupid and it's juvenile, but also incredibly sweet. You appreciate how much Jungkook tries to ease you into things. Baby steps.

"No, no," you whisper. "I'll go first. On you. Easier that way."

He knows it will make it no more difficult nor easy no matter who goes when, but he understands what you're saying. It will make you feel more comfortable. Of course, he obliges.

"Stand behind me," he says quietly. "Can you see in the mirror?"

"Not really," you say. His back is broad and he's obviously far taller than you, which pretty much obscures the entire mirror. If you lean around, you can see part of it, but it makes it harder for your to get an equal placement on his chest.

"Okay, just stand straight. I'll guide you."

The way he knocks your hands into position, mostly because his are also covered in paint, is just as gentle as the tone of his voice is.

"Three, two, one," he counts down. "Now press."

You do as you're told and are confronted with potentially the firmest pecks you've ever laid your hands upon. Sure, Seokjin had a body built like a God, but Jungkook? Jesus Christ. He must be something entirely... unhuman.

"Anddd pull away," he whispers. The shirt sticks a little bit, but as your hands peel off, Jungkook smirks. "Your hands are so small."

You take great offence to this for absolutely no reason other than to bicker with him. "Says you!"

"Sorry?"

"You don't exactly have massive hands," you goad him, seeing if you can get a rise out of him, and as if by magic—

"Turn the fuck around, Byeol," he says, almost forgetting the volume control. You do as you're told, grinning like the smug little bitch you are. "Don't have massive hands? I swear you say shit just to piss me off."

"Who me?" You feign innocence. "Never."

"Yes, you," he laughs, but he makes no attempt to reciprocate the shirt creation. Instead, he holds back. Wants to make sure you're okay with it. You tell him you are, but he still doubles down on confirmation. "If it's too much at any point, just say."

You nod. Wonder if he can see the beat of your heart running through your veins. He can't. But he can see your eyes in the mirror, and recognise the trepidation they're drowning in.

"You ready?"

And again, you nod. Exhale. "Ready."

He's tentative in his approach, palms wide, fingers outstretched. He lets his palms rest on the sides of your chest first. You stop breathing for a moment.

"You okay?" He checks, to which you nod. "Okay, Byeol. We're going at your pace. The second it's too much, you let me know, okay?"

He waits for your go-ahead, and then lets his fingers squeeze into the softness of your chest. He sort of assumed he'd eclipse them like he always has done with his former partners, but he doesn't quite manage it with you. It takes him by surprise. Stops him in his tracks. Makes you nervous.

"Kook?"

Whatever trance he's in, he snaps out of it. Realigns his focus. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod. "Are you?"

"Yeah, yeah," he parrots back. "Just being careful."

"It's fine," you smile. "I'm not a porcelain doll—and this is fine, actually."

"It is?"

"Mhmm. This isn't half as bad as I thought it would be."

"You're welcome."

You laugh, and tell him to shut up. He squeezes ever so gently around your chest, and as much as you hate to admit it, a fucking moan is lodged in your throat. You don't let it out. Don't want him to know it feels electric having his hands on you like this. God, it's nice. It's good. Comforting. That's what surprises you the most.

You've spent so long avoiding contact like this, that you had forgotten why you liked it so much in the first place.

In fact, you find yourself pouting ever so slightly when he pulls away, revealing two black handprints cradling your tits. His is the reverse, white paint on a black shirt.

"See," he smiles. "Told you it was cool. When they're dry, we can go in with markers and outline the skeleton shapes."

The pout on your lips as you look at him is sweet, eyes full of wonder. He thinks he's only ever seen you like this when you're drunk. It's all hazy, and it's like the glitter that's normally on your cheeks is in your pupils instead.

Silence resumes in his room, both of you conscious of Jimin milling around in the kitchen. Jungkook tells you to take the shirt off —"be careful, don't let the paint touch anywhere else"— so that it can dry properly.

It's as you're both standing there half-naked with your backs to one another, that he's caught off guard.

"Let's do it."

"Hmm?"

"Let's do it," you repeat. "That first idea. The canvas. I packed one just in case and I... I didn't think we'd need it - but it wasn't entirely horrible, and-I-think-I-wanna-see-if-maybe-"

"Byeol," Jungkook laughs, cutting you off, but doesn't turn around to face you. He's still trying to be as respectful as he can be. "Breathe. If you wanna do it, we can. No biggie on my part."

"It's a biggie on my part," you say quietly.

Jungkook frowns. Doesn't like how vulnerable you sound. "I know. It's okay. We can make it not a biggie."

Your mind races at a mile a minute. You've not let anyone other than Seokjin touch your bare chest in such a long time. The idea of Jungkook doing it now makes you feel nervous, but you're ready for it. Ready to feel renewed. Ready to finally fucking let go.

"How do you want to do this?" You ask, because one decision is enough for you. You'd rather let him be in the driver's seat, now. Leave your destination unknown. Leave it up to him. You're just here for the journey. Here for the ride.

"Can I turn around?"

"Yeah," you say. You don't mind him seeing you like this - you're shirtless, but you still have a bra on. He takes a second to look at your back; how your spine trails down it. Wonders if there are dimples at the bottom of it. They'd be hidden by your trousers now, and he doesn't really remember checking after the paint party.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the thoughts, as he heads to the curtains and draws one of them shut. The other curtain remains open, but neither of you will be standing in front of it, so he doesn't think it matters all that much.

Jungkook comes to stand behind you, turning you to face the mirror. His hands are on your shoulders, still a little paint-ridden, but nothing that bothers you.

"So I'm thinking," he says quietly, eyes on yours in the reflection as he toys slightly with the bra straps over your shoulders. "That this comes off."

You swallow so hard that Jungkook thinks you might choke. You don't.

But you also nod.

"Is that a yes?" He checks for consent.

"It's a yes."

His hands are slow as they stroke down your back. He's not really thinking. Just working on auto-pilot. This isn't about him. It's all about you. What you need. What you want.

"Then, I think we need more paint," he says, his fingers working to unclasp your bra. You feel the tension ping and release, and you think you might have a heart attack. He notices the change in your breathing. "If you need to stop, you just say, okay? Tell me okay?"

"Okay," you nod, knowing you're in the safest hands you possibly could be.

"What will you say? Give me a word. Something obscure. A safe word."

You shake your head and shrug, trying to think. "I don't know - chess?"

Jungkook laughs, knowing exactly where your eyes must have been focused - on the shelf by his desk, where his chess set sits undisturbed. "Okay. Chess."

"Chess."

"Just say it, and I'll stop."

You're silent as he reaches over for the paint, and tells you to toss your bra on his bed. The click of the acrylic bottle opening and closing beats in time with your heart. Jungkook's warming the paint between his hands, trying to make this as comfortable for you as he possibly can.

You're entirely bare from the waist up, and don't take much comfort in the fact that he is too. It feels a hell of a lot scarier for you, and you both know it.

"I'm gonna touch you now," he says, and waits for you to nod. You close your eyes. Bite on your lip. Wait for the contact—and when his palms softly connect, your brows knit together. Jungkook watches on, apprehensive. It almost looks like you're in pain, but as he begins to spread the paint over your breasts, they ease. "That okay?"

You nod. "It's okay."

When you open your eyes, you avoid looking towards the mirror. You look down, look away - and Jungkook notices. He nudges the side of your head with his own. Realigns it. Encourages. "Watch."

He speaks quietly, the dulcet tone of his purr just loud enough for you, but untraceable to anyone outside the room. He doesn't want Jimin to hear. Doesn't want Jimin to know.

It's not that he was lying when he said Jimin wouldn't care - he genuinely believes it'd be no issue, especially with context provided—it's just that he hasn't figured out how to explain it. The girl you shagged a few months ago? We're friends. Pretty good friends, actually. And I'm touching her boobs to help her get over a fear. Totally normal.

Jimin's fully aware of the friendship. Knows you've been in the apartment a handful of times. Jungkook never hides it from it; just tells him after the occasion. He doesn't mind.

In fact, Jimin quite likes your company whenever he bumps into you. Is quite glad you're not weird around him just because you've had sex. If anything, it gives him high hopes that maybe you'll be up for round two on the nights he can't find anyone else. To be honest, it'd make you the perfect candidate for a friends-with-benefits type situation with him. He hasn't had one of those in a while.

He doesn't share this thought process with Jungkook. Isn't sure how well received it would be. See, Jungkook's been incredibly vocal about how embarking on a friends-with-benefits situation is potentially the stupidest thing a person can do.

He'd lost his best friend—the girl he could have spent his life with—that way. Hasn't spoken to his favourite person in months because her new boyfriend doesn't like her hanging out with people she used to fuck. Makes sense. He can't argue against it.

He can think about it in the quiet hours of the early mornings, though, and weep a little out of frustration with how fucked up the best thing in life became.

There's a naive hope within him now that thinks he's fixing his previous wrongs with you. Doing things he's already done, without taking it too far, this time. A broken heart can't fall in love, after all. It's different.

Your eyes land on his; dark and frightfully deep. He's not sure what you're thinking. Tells himself it's better that way.

"My hands," he corrects. "Eyes on my hands, Byeol. Watch what I'm doing."

It takes you a moment to pull your eyes from his - and when you do, something about it feels catastrophic. Paint covers the skin of your chest; only a few small gaps of exposed skin are still on display. He squeezes. Moves his fingers. Doesn't specifically aim to cover those spots, but know it's the end goal.

There's a muffled moan hiding in your throat; revelations of a lost pleasure that you've refused to let yourself indulge in.

"Kook-" you begin, but he hushes you.

"Just feel it. Watch it."

And so you do. His chin rests on your shoulder, watching your body, keeping an eye on the way your heartbeat begins to calm, yet races all the same. The ink on his hand is hidden by the paint, his forearms just as much of a mess as your chest. You fight your instincts which tell you to close your eyes; to lean into his touch.

The moan that's made it home in your throat decides it's been trapped for too long. It tickles at your lips, vibrates into the room. You catch it with a gasp, and Jungkook can't help but let an airy smirk fall from his lips.

He never thought you were kidding about how much you liked it, but it's different seeing it in the flesh. There's an insolent nature to his teasing, and it makes you want to fucking whine.

"How does it feel, Byeol?"

Your eyes flick up to his, your lips resting ajar. The heaving of your chest is far easier to see when he stops massaging your chest. You smirk back at him. Roll your eyes.

"You don't wanna know," you tell him, because as much as he tried to make out that none of this would be sexual, your body doesn't agree.

And honestly, nor does his.

"No," he says, closing the minuscule gap he's been keeping between his crotch and your ass. The corners of his lips twitch upwards when you feel it—feel him—press against you. "I think I do wanna know."

His smirk is laced in sin, dark eyes hazy, as your chest begins to stutter all over again. You bring your hand to rest over one of his. Encourage his movements. Let your eyes close. Don't hide the moan that travels through you.

"I thought you said this wasn't gonna be sexual," you eventually say a little breathlessly. You encourage his movements still, just to let him know you're not entirely opposed to it.

"It's not," he purrs against your ear, and presses himself against you again, a little firmer this time. His breath is hot against your skin as you lean your head back, a laboured grunt stuck now in his throat. You can feel his heartbeat against your back.

You let your eyes rest on him in the reflection. Take a moment to read his face, and decide you've no idea what this man is thinking.

Truth be told, he's not really having any cognitive thoughts.

"You're hard," you tell him.

His eyes rest shut, a bashful smile on his giddy lips, neck turning ever so slightly to rest his forehead against your hair. And then he whispers, "Don't tell me you're not wet, Byeol."

"Mhhm," you moan with a little humour. "Dry as the Sahara, buddy."

"God, if my hands weren't covered in paint-"

"You'd what?" you interrupt with a sardonic smile. "This isn't sexual, remember?"

He scrunches his face up. Looks at you. Looks at your chest. Looks away from the mirror, and down to watch his movements. He alters his pace, playing with your tits just for the fun of it, seeing how he can toy with them. It might not be what usually gets him keen, but he can see why you attract boob guys; can also understand why your ex would keep coming back if he is a boob guy.

"You ever do this to yourself? Like, for fun?" He asks, ignoring your last question, seemingly hypnotised by the overspill between his fingers, and the way it jiggles for him.

"Like non-sexually?"

"Mhhm," he says as he repositions himself. Cups the undersides of your boobs. Lets his thumbs flick against your nipples. You moan in a way he hasn't heard before. Does it again. Same result.

"Fuck," you hiss. "Yeah, I do it - fuck, Kook - for fun. Not like this though. This is"—

"Just for getting you wet?"

Yes.

"I'm not wet."

"Such a liar, Byeol."

His fingers pinch, gently clasping at your nipples. Has you mewling. Has you amazed you haven't been letting anyone do this during sex. You've been making yourself suffer to solidify your heartbreak. Maybe if you'd have been fucking people how you like to be fucked, instead of using it as a tool of validation, you'd have found the whole thing a bit easier. Or perhaps not. Perhaps you'll never know.

"Are you trying to make me wet?" You challenge, eyes on him, watching the way he's watching himself.

He shakes his head. Nestles it against your hair. Likes the scent of your shampoo. Inhales a little deeper. Is breathless when he rasps, "Just helping out a friend. How your body reacts to me is its own problem."

You scoff. "My body's reaction has got nothing to do with you."

"No?" His grip tightens. You whine.

"Kook-" is all you can manage, chest heaving, heart in your throat. Your back is arching, pushing your chest further into his grasp.

He's about to mock you; about to tease you a little more. Make some dumb remark, you sure, something that will have you fighting back against him—but it's interrupted.

"Hey, Jungkook?" A voice shouts from the living room. "You in?"

The way Jungkook pulls away from you is so abrupt you almost lose balance. He pulls a shirt from his chair, chucks it in your direction without looking back and darts for the door at such speed, you wouldn't be surprised to see him in a comic book like one of his damn figurines.

He opens the door just a crack, keeping you hidden, ignoring the fact his door handle is now slathered in black paint - the corner of his pristine white wall, too.

"Hey," he squeaks as Jimin stops in his tracks. He'd just been about to reach for Jungkook's doorhandle to invite himself in, but the look on Jungkook's face tells him to stay away.

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "This isn't suspicious at all."

Behind Jungkook's head, Jimin can see his bed. It's made, not disturbed in the slightest, but the way Jungkook is guarding the room makes it incredibly clear he was up to no good. It's all very amusing. Just out of his eye line is your bra.

"Was just letting you know I'm off out," he smirks. "But I'll leave you to it. Don't think I'll be back till morning, so stay safe, young padawan."

"Right," Jungkook purses his lips, not wanting to give Jimin the satisfaction of confirming nor denying anything.

Jimin doesn't care to watch Jungkook squirm. Would rather let him get back to whoever it is with him in his room. The kid's been out of action for so long that he's frankly pleased to see him acting so shifty. He's never known anyone who needs to get laid as much as Jungkook does. Hopes this means he's finally over the last girl.

He turns on his heel, but calls back, "Don't forget to wrap it up! Can't be arsed with baby-proofing the apartment."

"Jesus Christ," Jungkook mutters as he closed his door. He rests his head on the frame for a moment, before turning his head to find you in a state of absolute horror.

"Kook!" You whisper, eyes wide, heart thumping into your chest. The shirt he'd thrown at you is still on the floor because it's a white shirt, and you weren't stupid enough to actually pick it up. You kick back across to his chair, hands covering your chest without touching them. You don't want to end up as messy as he is.

Jungkook strides across to you with a scrunched-up face and just moves your arms, laughing to himself slightly as he cups your breasts in his hands. He holds them firmly. Squeezes an apology. Admittedly, you do feel more protected like this.

"Shush, shush," he coos quietly, a stupid smile plastered all over his face. His hands are temperate, but they squeeze at you a little as his shoulders lift ever so slightly. "He's not out the door yet."

There's a pause as you both wait with bated breath. There's a faint click, which Jungkook knows is the front door going, so he nods. A second click follows.

"You're safe," he laughs, and you can't help but laugh, too. Your hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, but his hands are already there, so you drop them again. His forehead rests against yours. His frivolous energy is contagious, the pair of you breathlessly giggling at the weird fucking situation you're in. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you shake your head, keeping your forehead against his, almost brushing your nose with his. "Not your fault."

"Got a little carried away, though," he whispers, his smile fading as he harshly swallows back. "Should've tapped out. I should have said chess."

You shrug. Whisper, "Takes two to tango."

The moment lingers. Wraps you both up in a ribbon, and ties a bow where his hands meet your chest. Safe and secure. A memory to be tucked away under your list of bad decisions, but for the moment, you'll convince yourself it was a good idea. You're not thinking of Seokjin, at least, and that was the real goal.

"Let's finish this off," he says, nodding over to the canvas. "We need more paint, though. I'm pretty sure I've literally, like, moisturised it into your skin. I don't think that's a good thing."

"It's definitely not a good thing," you cringe, knowing that your pores must be screaming beneath the acrylic. You wait for his grip to leave your chest, but it doesn't. It's only when you raise a brow and shake your head at him that he realises.

"Oh, right, yeah, yeah."

It's a lot more clumsy this time round. Jungkook's second-guessing himself, almost as if he hasn't just spent God knows how long grappling with your tits. He laughs, and so do you, the pair of you finding every little thing hilarious. Perhaps it's nerves, or perhaps you're trying to play this off as something totally normal between friends, but either way, you think you're glad you're with him. Glad he took a chance on your birds.

"How do we even do this?" Jungkook hums in confusion when he holds up the canvas. He puts it in all kinds of positions, but can't seem to figure out the best course of action. You tilt your head and mull it over.

"Gimmie it," you say softly, holding your hands out to retrieve it from him. His palms have left prints on the edges, but it doesn't matter. Turning to the mirror, you can't help but smile at how much of a mess you are. Such a stupid idea, and yet it's worked perfectly. "Okay, stand behind me again - keep your boner away from me this time, though."

"My God, I don't even have one anymore," he whines, and it's true. It's just a semi.

"Sure," you tease, but begin to instruct him further. "Hold them, like, underneath. How you did earlier. Yeah, yeah, that's it," you nod.

His long fingers support the base of your breasts, his thumbs resting on the sides. Chin on the top of your head, it's a lot less intimate than it had been. This, you think, could be argued as non-sexual.

A momentary lapse in judgement is fine, and that's what you'll chalk earlier up to.

It's not like there are set rules to this whole arrangement. Mistakes will be made; bad decisions, too. What matters is that you don't make the same ones twice.

"Okay," you muse quietly, holding the canvas up to your chest, trying to line it up perfectly. "I'm gonna press down. Keep still."

Jungkook doesn't dare move. Too scared you'll notice his semi and tell him off for being a randy bastard. It's circumstantial. He's never spent so long holding a pair of tits. It's just... hormones. Maybe. He isn't really sure.

Pressing the canvas against your poised chest, you apply as much pressure as you can, trying to get the imprint. You're mumbling affirmations of a good job to yourself —"Okay, good. Just a little more. Little more pressure, c'mon."—before pulling it away.

It almost peels, the paint a little tacky, but sure enough, the imprint is there, and pretty damn perfect if you do say so yourself. A pleased, albeit a little surprised, laugh escapes your lips.

"Oh, that's fucking cool," Jungkook beams. "Looks like one of those inkblot tests."

He's not wrong. There are two well-defined black circles, the imprints differing ever so slightly, smudging outwards. To you, it's plainly obvious it's a pair of tits—but then again, they are your tits. It's a lived, breathed experience of yours. Anyone else looking might mistake them for something else.

"Mmm," you agree. "What do you see?"

You're holding it up in front of you, blocking the mirror from your view. Jungkook's head dips to your shoulder, where his pointy chin rests but you don't complain. One of his structured hands eases, slipping to a more natural grasp on your boob, while the other drops. It slinks around the front of your waist, his forearm keeping your back pressed against his chest.

"Big ol' pair of titties," he says in potentially the most childish voice he could have chosen. You pull away from his grasp and give him a look of disgust. "Sorry, I mean... not a pair of tits?"

"You're a fucking child, Jeon," you scold, to which he tells you that he's actually very mature and you're just being a boring old bint. Turning back around to study it a little more, you tilt your head. It's missing something. Jungkook's grasp on you had never fully eased, but both of his hands rest now at the dips of your waist. You pay it no mind. "I think we should add to it."

"Watcha thinking?"

"Not sure," you muse. "It is a little bit too obvious."

"So you're saying it does look like a big pair of"—

"Oh my God," you groan, walking away from him and to where the paint is sitting pretty. "Lie down."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me. Lie down."

You don't look at him as you say your commands, instead you spend your time picking between the paints. The silver is your favourite, but as much as he likes to wear it in the form of jewellery, you know that gold is his colour. It's the one that suits him best - or at least, suits who he is.

He's hesitant, but he does as you say. He lies on his back horizontally across the bed, like how the pair of you do when you look at the birds, one of his arms resting over his stomach. He looks up to them now, no smile on his lips, but an overwhelming sense of contentedness.

Before you, he used to look at the birds and feel guilt. Was harbouring feelings that he'd told everyone he had let go of. They're still there, but they're diluted. Too much of you filling the empty spaces for him to dwell on the birds made for her instead.

You come to perch next to him on the bed, sitting on your ankles as his gaze falls to yours with great curiosity.

"What are you doing, Byeol?"

With a smile, you say nothing - just uncap the paint lid, and turn it on its end over the top of his chest. He doesn't object. Just watches you quietly. Patiently. Hisses when the chill of the paint comes into contact with his skin, but lets you do as you please.

Capping it shut with a click, you reach over to put the paint on his bedside table. Still shirtless, Jungkook watches the way your tits move, and doesn't even try to hide it.

"Eyes up here," you say as you regain full posture, but he keeps his eyes on your tits.

"Can't. Hypnotised."

You're laughing as you roll your eyes. "Such a liar, Mr 'I'm an Ass Guy'."

He finally looks at you, almost in horror, thanks to the voice you just did impersonate him. "Is that how you think I sound?!"

"It is how you sound," you tell him, knowing that you should have deepened your voice. Instead, you'd deliberately raised it a few octaves. "I'm a voice actress in my spare time," you lie. "I've been told I have perfect pitch on many occasions. That was an exact replica of your voice."

It's said with such a straight face that it would be believable if it wasn't for the fact that Jungkook does have perfect pitch. His music teacher always tried to make him pursue a musical career, but he was fearful of failure. Didn't want to put himself out there just to get rejected.

"I can't believe I'm friends with you," he mutters as your finger begins to draw over his chest with the paint. "Most annoying girl I've ever met—shit"— He winces as you flick his nipple, his hand coming to rub at it almost immediately. "Byeol!"

"Hmm?" you smile. "Sorry were you saying something?"

He says nothing, just narrows his eyes at you as you get back to work, spreading the paint over his chest.

"We've already got an imprint of my tits," you muse, pressing the metallic gold into his muscles, quietly in awe over his physique. "And now I wanna get an imprint of your tits, too. Over the top of mine. I think it'll look cool."

"You mean my pecks?"

"Yeah, sure," you say. "Your tits."

"They're pecks!"

"Okay?"

"One of those birds better have 'fixing my attitude problem' on them," Jungkook huffs, but it's all in good humour. You tell him your attitude is golden—just like his tits are. "They're fucking pecks!"

Reaching over for the canvas, your golden palms are just clumsy as his had been, leaving little marks on the edge of the canvas. Laughter fills his room as you try and decide how to place it, with the pair of your twisting and turning the canvas to try and figure out your best bet. You don't want to obscure your tits entirely, but his chest is broad.

"Don't think you thought this through," Jungkook teases. "You just wanted an excuse to touch my chest."

You flick his nipple again.

"Jesus Christ! One more time and I'll"—

Oh, how you love a threat. Can't wait to see if it's a promise.

And so you flick the other.

"Right, that's it."

It'd be a lie if you said you knew exactly where he flung the canvas - you were too busy trying to avoid his grasp as he got to his feet - but there are only so many places you can run to in his room.

In fact, you only actually get about three steps away by the time his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his grasp. The paint on his chest is slick against your back, but he doesn't really think about it as he turns you around, pressing you up against the window that doesn't have the curtain pulled shut.

His large hand clasps both of your wrists, holding them above your head just to keep them away from his damn nipples. The chase was minimal, the catch far too easy - and yet you're both breathless. Chests heaving. Your nipples are gilded in gold. He's far too fucking close.

"Kook"—

"What did I say about flicking my nipples?" He looks down at you, desperately trying not to smirk. The anger he's feigning is convincing, but even if he was furious, he's painted like a chryselephantine statue. In all fairness, he's got the body to match. A Greecian God if you ever did see one.

"Can't help it," you pout. "Your tits are just so perky."

He doesn't even insist on the fact they're pecks this time. Just lets his eyes drop to your tits, then back to your eyes. Repeats this four or five times. Shakes his head.

"If that's the metric we're going with, Byeol, then you're well overdue half a dozen nipple flicks."

"Nooo," you whine, squirming to get out of his grasp. He doesn't let you immediately, but ultimately decides it's for the best. Needs to calm himself down. Can't be having another repeat of the night before.

As soon as his grasp eases, you bolt away from him, and retrieve the canvas from the foot of his bed. He notices the gold on his window, and ignores it. Will deal with it later. It's an easy fix. A logical one.

For now, he's got a half-naked force of a woman in his room that he doesn't know how the fuck to deal with. No logic, no reason, no rhyme seems to help him figure you out.

"Please can we finish the canvas?" you say sweetly, as if you haven't been the one derailing things every single step of the way.

He says nothing. Spread his arms wide. Beckons you forward.

Pressing the canvas to his chest, you throw all of your deliberations out of the window. You don't really care for the outcome, now. Just know that the pair of you need to not be topless anymore.

It's platonic, yeah, but it is tempting.

The canvas peels much like it did when your impression was made, the paint tacky on his skin. The pair of you are dumbfounded as you take in the result for the first time.

It's fucking beautiful.

Metallic gold weaves around the black, overlaying ever so serenely, creating an abstract interaction between the shapes.

"What do you see now?" you ask softly, quietly proud of your creation together.

"I see a masterpiece," he grins, and that arm of his that likes hooking around your waist so much finds its favourite spot once more. His chin is on your head. "And you know what else?"

"What?"

"Look there"— he points to a small 'v' shape, just above the imprint of your chest that's free of gold. "Looks to me like a bird."

"Holy shit."

"A fear set free," he muses.

"Well done us," you beam, holding your hand up for him to high-five. He does so with ease, before reaching for the canvas and propping it up on his desk.

"C'mon," he grips onto your shoulders. Eases you forward and to his bedroom door. Reaching round to open it, he lets his hands fall to your waist, and then back up to cup your tits as you walk together. "Shower."

"Are you ever gonna let go of them now?" You laugh, finally pointing out just how bloody handsy he is.

"Don't think so."

"Brilliant."

He eventually does let them go as you're both washing your hands beneath the tap of his bathroom sink.

"Got a little paint in your hair," Jungkook says as you're drying your hands. He goes to twiddle at it in an attempt the break the dry paint down. It's not a lot, but it does mean you'll need to wash your hair to avoid the bleached strands from staining.

"Shit," you curse, knowing that Jungkook definitely won't have any silver shampoo, nor will he have anything more than a bog-standard conditioner.

"Hold on," he says, moving you to the side to rummage in the cupboard beneath the sink. There's a small clatter of bottles as he pulls a basket from the back of the shelf with a triumphant smile.

It's a grin that's quietly pleased, lips thin, pressed together, lip ring flipping in that way which always makes you smile. The basket itself is just as interesting as Jungkook's face—a myriad of coloured tubes, and lo-and-behold, the same brand of silver shampoo you use.

"Jimin had a phase," he explains. "Well, no actually, he's had a few - but this is from the coloured hair phase. You need the purple shit, right?"

You nod. "The purple shit."

"Take what you need," he says as he gets back to his full posture, leaving the room only to return a moment later with a bottle of conditioner in hand. You know the brand. It's pricey. You only buy it when it's on sale. You furrow your brows, and he just shrugs. "I keep my good towels out of the bathroom, Jimin keeps his good conditioner out of it instead."

It's funny, 'cause you do exactly the same. Danbi has been blessed with hair from the Gods, so never has to pay much attention to what she uses. A string of bad dye jobs and unhealthy heat habits have left you with a deep conditioning complex, and there's nothing worse than going for a shower and realising the conditioner you paid and an arm and a leg for is all gone.

Will this stop you from using Jimin's special conditioner? No, absolutely not. You care more about your hair than you do about his annoyance.

"How are we doing this?" You ask casually as Jungkook starts the shower up.

"Well," he contemplates far too hard for the sentence that follows. "I think we get in the shower, and then I think we... shower?"

"Right," you nod, as he grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Silly me. Of course it's that simple."

"Well it can be," he shrugs. "We both know we didn't really do the shower bird to completion, and aren't we saying 'fuck it', now? So why not?"

He's got a point. You feel far less on edge about the whole showering thing since the last time. It's like you've been working through it in stages, and it's helped.

"So..." you say quietly. "I don't know about you, Kook, but I normally shower naked."

He just shrugs. "Really, Byeol? Do you not think we've already crossed that boundary? I'm quite literally staring at your tits right now."

You look down to your exposed chest, and suppose he's right.

"Just... don't look, okay? You get in the shower first and like, face the wall or something."

As much as he thinks you're being ridiculous and that it really doesn't matter, he agrees. Your birds are, after all, all about you, and what you're comfortable with. Just because he is doesn't mean you will be.

He strips down, and discards his clothes into a pile. He'd be lying if he said he was entirely confident, but he definitely feels the pressure a lot less than you do.

"I'm in," he says encouraging you to follow suit.

Against your better judgement, you do.

You toss your trousers on top of his, panties too, and make your way into his shower. It's warm, just the right temperature, still set to Jimin's preference from earlier.

"Now was that so hard?" Jungkook asks, still facing the wall.

"No," you say airily. "I can see why you're an ass guy."

He turns his head, and sure enough, your eyes are on his ass. "Double standards."

"It's really good," you say, a little in shock at just how toned it is; how you'd kill for yours to be as peachy as his. "But you're right, you're right - I'm sorry."

"Can I at least turn around now?" He asks. "Seeing as you've already broken rule number one."

"What rule?!"

"Looking! You set the bloody rule!"

"Oh yeah," you grimace. Part of you considers turning around, but in all honesty, you don't want his ass-loving eyes to fall on yours and be disappointed. "Um, yeah. Sure. You can turn."

He's cupping his balls as he does so, hiding himself. It's sort of sweet in a way, and matches your own awkward stance.

"C'mon," he says, knocking his head back, encouraging you further into the stream of water. "Need to wash you off."

"You need to?"

"Well, yeah? Only fair. I'm the one who got you like that." He senses your hesitation, and offers you an out. "Or you can do it. I don't mind either way."

And for some reason, you don't actually seem to mind the suggestion. "Go for it."

He steps a little closer. "Say the word and I'll stop."

You reach for his hands. Lift them to your chest. "I don't think I'll say it."

He begins to massage at them, easing the paint off ever so gently, but it's stubborn. "Could do with some shower gel. Scent preference?"

"Hmm, strawberry?"

"Great choice."

You still find the fact he has more than one shower gel on the go hilarious, but you enjoy having a choice. It's one of the fantastic things about Jungkook; you're never backed into a corner. He'll always give you an option. A way out.

And yet as he gets reacquainted with your chest, you don't think you want one. The things that scared you before - forgetting Seokjin, losing his touch - seem like a world away. Yes, it's different with Jungkook, but it doesn't mean that it erases what you had with Seokjin. It also doesn't mean that you have to subject yourself to a life of boring sex just because you're harbouring guilt from a relationship breakdown that really wasn't your fault at all.

Seokjin had strayed, though. Made you feel like there was something wrong with you. Had you questioning the things you thought he'd loved about you - your tits included.

Seeing how Jungkook - a self-professed ass guy - reacts to them has been so validating. So needed. Will do you wonders in the future, you're sure.

It's as he's kneading at your tits that you notice he's becoming a little moany, too. A little unstrained. God, it's so satisfying.

He closes his eyes. Rests his forehead on yours. Squeezes around your tits as he swallows so harshly you think you can almost hear it. Nods, and then says, "Still an ass guy—but fucking hell, Byeol. You might convert me."

You laugh now, and Jungkook is obsessed with the way your boobs slide beneath his fingers, sopping wet and moving in time with your body. He still doesn't open his eyes.

"Fun aren't they?"

Again, he just nods. Doesn't wanna think about anything too hard.

If he does, he knows he'll have to deal with the fact his cock is now hard, too.

He thanks the high heavens that you just aren't mentioning it, because there's no way you haven't noticed.

It's not like he meant for it to happen. One moment he was trying to be respectful, and the next all he could think about it how soft and warm they are in his grasp. Was all beyond his control.

Thing is, Jungkook has no idea how hard it is for you to resist reaching down for it. It feels like second nature; like it's what you should do.

But it's a boundary that's still intact, and you'd like to keep as many of those as possible.

So would he - but he's fucking solid, throbbing, balls tight. Can't remember the last time he got like this. Sure he's been hard. Been horny. But this is on another level.

And so he just says fuck it.

Tells you so.

"Byeol if I don't cum in the next five minutes I think I'm gonna die."

His admission takes you by surprise. You want to laugh, but remain deadly serious as you say, "I think you'll be fine."

"No," he insists. "I will actually die."

"How?"

"Ruptured ballsack?" He grimaces. "I don't know, but I do know that my life is quite literally flashing before my eyes right now."

"Poor baby," you pout, and stroke at his hair just to wind him up a little bit more.

"Don't," he whines. "I'm one more sarcastic comment away from sucking your tits just to shut you up. You know how many pairs of tits I've sucked?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "None. Always thought it was weird. But now? I'm so horny I'm literally delirious. Willing to do anything."

Yeah right, you think.

"That's not very platonic of you," you state, using the exact tone of voice you know is winding him up.

"Byeol, I said one more."

"One more what?"

"God," he lets out a tortured sob. "It's like you want me to suck your tits."

"Me? Want that? Never."

"But it wasn't on the bird," he says, as if the birds really do dictate every single one of his actions. "Can't do it."

"In all fairness, Kook, nor was anything else that happened tonight. It was literally just the word 'tits'."

He tries to think straight, but he really can't. Doesn't know what's come over him. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe he just never knew how much he liked tits. Either way, he's absolutely done for.

He runs his thumbs over your nipples, and—fuck—the way you moan really does have him wanting to take them in his mouth. It's always been a no-go for him. Always thought the concept was a bit weird.

But it's all he can think about, now.

All he wants.

"Oh my god," he whines, again, obviously going through a little inner turmoil. His forehead drops to your shoulder. "Why do I want it? Why do I wanna suck your tits?"

"Mummy issues."

"Byeol! You're not helping."

"Just get yourself off," you laugh. "Once you get the orgasm out of you, you'll be able to think straight."

He nods. Knows you're right. "What about you? Do you need to?"

You've a much better grasp on your desperation than he does. You're a brat through and through, and find it hilarious that men seem to think they 'tame' you. In reality, you're the one who calls the shots. You're always in control. Just let them think they are.

With Jungkook, you've not needed to play up for him, so you don't realise how unaware he is of the fact your inner thighs are coated in your slickness.

"Can do," you shrug.

"That's not a yes."

You roll your eyes. "Look at me."

He does as he's told, and you decide very quickly that he would be so incredibly easy to turn into your bitch if you wanted him to be. It's cute. His lips are parted, brows pushed together, a crease forming above his nose. He really does look like he might die. Poor baby.

Dipping your hands to where your legs part, you run two fingers along your folds, and hold them up for Jungkook to see. You separate your fingers, the clear fluid suspended between the two of them. He whines again. Rests his head on your shoulder.

"The bird," he says. "The bird that we kinda did, but didn't do."

"What of it?" you toy, knowing exactly what he wants.

"Can we?" He rasps, unable to get his sentence out. One of his hands is on your chest, the other pressed flat to the tiles beside your head. His cock is desperate for contact. His hips are pulsing against nothing. If he doesn't grip onto it soon, he's gonna rut too far and end up touching you.

"You wanna get off together?"

He just nods. Mewls. "Please just give me the green light, Byeol. Please."

And as much as you want to keep fucking with him, it feels cruel now. His veins are engorged, flooded with blood, in desperate need of him to do something - anything - to have his heart beating normally again.

"Okay," you whisper. "Get yourself off."

He doesn't waste a second. Has his hand around his cock by the time you've finished the sentence. The change in his breathing is stark. There's a moan caught with every tug on his cock, his hand moving at a speed you didn't was humanely possible.

And it excites you.

Has you clasping the tit that he isn't currently holding onto for dear life, while your other hand sinks to your folds. You're soaked, clit throbbing, begging for even the faintest bit of attention. When Jungkook hears you moan too, he thinks he's done for. Holds his cock so tight he's scared he'll ruin his orgasm.

You know your body though. Know how to get yourself off within a minute when duty calls.

"Keep going," you tell him. "I can get close."

"That quickly?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Women are magic," you say between pants, dipping your fingers into your entrance for a little bit of fiction to your g-spot, just enough to really get you there.

"Fucking magic," he husks, his body edging a little closer to yours. You don't mind. In fact, you think you'll prefer it, so you let go of your chest and encourage him to close the gap. Your hand is on his waist, pulling him closer. He looks up. Regrets it, 'cause he never needed to see you looking like this. Doesn't ever wanna fuckin' look away. "Sure?"

"Mhhm," you moan, unable to get a word out because of how close you are—and then you can feel the tip of his cock press against your stomach, just below your ribcage. His movements are frantic.

"I'm not gonna last."

"Then don't."

His forehead rests on yours, the pair of you breathing so heavily that you're basically surviving on one another. Inhale, exhale. You're one and the same.

"Oh, fuck," you mewl, so incredibly close. Your fingers massage at your pussy just how you like it; spank against your clit a little, tease it to the near point of no return. "Kook, I'm about to"—

"Me too," he chokes. "Where?"

"It's fine," you husk, knowing he's asking where to cum. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"Sure?"

"Just fucking cum, Kook. Cum on me."

"Shit."

The release is just as undignified as the build. The pair of you are messes, whining as you come undone together. The voltage runs from the tips of your toes to the tops of your fingers, so intense that they go fucking numb for a moment. You're overstimulated almost as soon as it hits, unable to do anything but pant against his shoulder.

The tip of Jungkook's cock is pressed against your skin, his release painting you in the most glorious sin. He cums, but it feels like it never stops. Every time you think it has, he whines again, wanks a little more, unloads another spurt onto your torso. It trails down your hip, to your thigh and then sinks to the shower floor; washed away like a bad decision never to be repeated.

Breathlessness overcomes the pair of you, remaining as you are for a few moments, until Jungkook finally breaks it.

"I swear I never usually cum that fast."

You just laugh. Pat his head. "Sure."

"Fuck off, I don't," he says, laughing now too. "Christ. What the fuck was that, Byeol?"

He lifts his posture from how it's rested against you, turning to press his shoulders to the tiles beside you. The shower is still running, so he reaches over to turn it off. Neither of you are fully clean yet, but you'll get back to it in a moment. No point in running his water bill up just because he can.

"Well," you exhale. "I think you just discovered boobs."

He laughs. Tilts his head back against the tiles. Bites his lips as he shakes his head. "To be fair, I think you might be right."

You laugh now too, and that's how the evening remains; full of laughter. Jokes about how platonic and totally friendly the entire exchange has been. There's no weirdness, but in all honesty, you never thought there would be.

Jungkook lends you a pair of sweats and one of his shirts after the shower, your hair air drying beautifully thanks to Jimins oh-so-expensive conditioner. You feel a little bad for using it now, but you made him cum once, so you think you're even.

"And when Jimin asks where it's come from?" You question as you watch from Jungkook's sofa while he hangs your artwork up on the wall. It's next to the television. Really fucking hard to miss. Will be the first thing he notices.

"I'll just say it's one of Tae's," Jungkook shrugs.

"And when Tae comes round?"

"I'll... think of another lie?"

"Sounds foolproof," you muse, sipping on your glass of water, thinking that he's possibly the biggest idiot you know.

"Either way, neither of them will know what it is, or who made it. It'll be a mystery. Wait, unless," he stops himself. Furrows his brows together. Tries to join dots in his head. Even uses his hands to help with the mental work. "Would Jimin be able to tell?"

Your lips purse up, forming a thin line between your cheeks. You shake your head.

"No?"

"No," you say. "He never... Well, I meant what I said about them. Keeping them off limits. Or at least, kept."

"Yeah," Jungkook nods, accepting your truth, but thinking of hypotheticals. "Did he not see them, like, at all?"

"Um," you say to buy time, questioning how much you should divulge. "You really wanna know?"

Jungkook shrugs. Nods his head again. Makes no difference to him.

You adjust in your seat, trying to think of how to phrase the events of your night with Jimin, and finally settle on, "Well, I was fully clothed"—

"What?"

—"And we did it from behind." You watch as Jungkook stays silent for a moment. He's doing that thinking face of his again. The hand is moving. Figuring things out. And then you realise what he's doing. "No! Gross! Don't imagine it!"

"I'm just trying to get a visual!" He protests with a small pout. "Just trying to understand how!"

"My god," you cringe, hiding your head in your hands. "Never should have done that bird with you."

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he comes to sit beside you, admiring his handiwork. He actually really likes the painting. Is glad you added him to it, too.

"Yes, you should have," he says. "You admitted it yourself, you kept your tits off-limits, but it's clearly a big part of sex for you, right?"

You nod, not looking at him, but up at the canvas. It really is pretty. "Right."

"If you could do all that with me, you can do it with anyone else. It'll make a huge difference to how satisfying you find casual sex, which is like, the whole goal, right?"

And again, you nod.

"Exactly," he beams. "Now, say 'thank you Jungkook'."

"I'm not saying thank you," you laugh. "You literally got cum on my feet. You should be thanking me."

"Oh my god," he groans. "I'm never showering with you again."

"It wasn't the shower that was the issue!"

The pair of you bicker a little more, until the reality of it being the early hours of the morning kicks in. You're both yawning, hardly able to keep your eyes open. He offers up his bed, but you'd feel guilty taking it two nights in a row, so call for a taxi instead.

You're still in his clothes, but you'll just return them the inevitable next time.

He tells you to let him know when you get home safe, and you do, only for him to reply a few minutes later with a message that makes you consider blocking him.

Jungkook: Still an ass guy, btw.

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

[androxys]

Androxys Reviews... "I Know What You Did Last Crisis"

Okay, I don’t normally do reviews for these sorts of specials, but I love Halloween so I thought I’d give it a go. I think my two favorite stories were “Dearly Departed” and “God’s Chosen Man,” and my two least favorite were “A Constant State of Healing” and “Crisis Obscura.” I think that as a Halloween special, some of these stories did a better job of playing with the theme–there were a lot of good horror movie homages and trope acknowledgement! And then there were stories that didn’t really engage with that. Full spoilers for "I Know What You Did Last Crisis" below the cut.

Batgirl in “What Kind of Hero?”

Set during Crisis on Infinite Earths #4, featuring Barbara Gordon as Batgirl! As the wall of antimatter progresses, Barbara goes to save a family from Killer Croc. Over the course of the chase, however, it comes out that Croc is lashing out because of his fear, and Barbara comforts him. 

If DC is so deadset on putting Barbara in a Batgirl outfit, I have to admit, this is a good way of doing it. It's Barbara, and it's appropriate. She was a good Batgirl! I just hate how much of the desire to see her as Batgirl comes from a place of wanting to move past or erase Oracle. Seeing the old costume is fun too. I love the blue and grey and yellow. In terms of other contextual calls, Barbara wonders about the sewers being a job for Supergirl, but comments “Linda’s busy,” referencing the fact that 1) this Supergirl is Linda Lee, and 2) they’re friends! If this is set during the events of COIE #4, that means Babs and Linda were talking not too long ago. I think it's a sweet callback to their friendship.

Ultimately, it’s a nice notion to suggest that Batgirl is about not being alone, but I’m not sure that’s what Batgirl is specifically. I wish this story had one more page, but so it goes.

Dr. Light in “A Constant State of Healing”

I’ll confess, I don’t know the Millennium event as well as the other Crises represented here. Mahunters came down, pretended to be humans, etc. I certainly don’t remember them being so gory and… evil.

One of the Manhunters has taken an interest in what’s inside humans, in a spiritual sense, and tries to find it by taking them apart in a literal way. Dr. Light defends STAR Labs by powering through her own pain (and fear of the dark) to defeat the Manhunter. This story is much more interested in the horror motif of the anthology, with the Manhunter being a ripped-from-the-slashers killer taking the skin of his victims. I don’t feel this one required being set during Millennium, but it’s ultimately a decent horror story.

BoP in “Dearly Departed”

The Final Night! The Birds of Prey! This is an era with which I am very familiar, and it is delightful to see Dinah in her mid-90s costume. Black Canary is tracking missing people as Oracle is coordinating things during the Final Night, and she comes across Scarecrow and Silver Banshee. Canary gets doused with some souped up fear gas hallucinates Ollie’s corpse chasing her, begging her for help. She ends up working through her fear and takes down the Banshee, sending her to hell or something. That part wasn’t totally clear.

Okay, I really liked this one. And it’s tooooootally definitely biased. Whereas I didn’t think the previous Dr. Light story had to be set during Millenium (and to an extend, the Batgirl Crisis story didn’t have to be Crisis, but rather any general big threat during Barbara’s career) I think this story takes good advantage of the timing. Ollie had only been dead for 13 real-life months when Final Night first came out, so it’s very recent for Dinah! He’s a reasonable thing for her to hallucinate. It’s not incredibly Halloween-ish, but there is a bit of a horror thread there. Pairing her up against Silver Banshee is a good matchup as two “sonic screamers” but Dinah’s fighting ability and situational awareness are the way she wins. This one was really solid. 

JSA in “At the Point of Vanishing”

This is a JSA story about Zero Hour, so some of us already know where we’re headed. The JSA heads to the Vanishing Point, the place where time ends, to try to help. Extant is there and does what he does, giving his Zero Hour fight with the JSA a Halloween inspired flair. Extant is the monster that can’t be stopped, has the fakeout death, all the tropes of the scary movie monster.

This one is sweet for how it features Sandman’s internal monologue–he’s reflecting on whether the JSA still has a place, or whether they’ve still got what it takes, and they ultimately do! But this one lands somewhere between bottom of the barrel or cream of the crop. This one didn’t do anything for me, I don’t know.

Nightwing in “Crisis Obscura”

Ugh. I saw the author and felt the bad attitude seep into my body instantly. I got way too heated from a single story in an anthology by a man who would kick his heels to know he made a hater mad. Anyway. TL;DR, this story is Dan DiDio being petty, It isn’t even scary for the Halloween theme of the book.

Here’s the gist: Nightwing is tracking someone who doesn’t exist. He sees shards of reality depicting the events of Infinite Crisis. It’s revealed that Superboy–Conner Kent–lured Dick here because Dick was supposed to die during Infinite Crisis, subsequently uniting all the heroes and putting an end to every future Crisis. The problem is, Dick didn’t die. So the universe keeps having Crises to try to kill Dick and set things right. Conner throws Dick into the shards of reality (the ones Superboy-Prime punched) to die an infinite series of deaths and make everything perfect. The story ends with reality having changed–Superboy is now in a relationship with Cassandra Sandsmark again, they’re in domestic bliss, and Batman!Tim has dropped by for a visit. Conner regrets what he did, but ultimately feels it was necessary.

Okay. So. For those who don’t know, Dan DiDio wanted Nightwing to be the one to die during Infinite Crisis instead of Conner Kent. This is him getting his way, two decades later, and I found this whole story incredibly petty. Narratively, how is Superboy moving without Oracle seeing him on any of her monitors? Maybe it’s super speed or vibrating, who knows. How does she not see him tear the warehouse open? Maybe it’s the reality shards, who knows. How does Conner know it was “ordained that [Nightwing’s] death would unite all heroes,” make the Trinity step aside, and end all future Crises? Also, since when does Conner talk like that? And, my big question, DOES DAN DIDIO HONESTLY THINK THAT CONNER KENT WOULD KILL DICK GRAYSON? The answer may surprise you. Meta-narratively, DiDio seems to be relishing in reminding everyone that he wanted to kill Dick and finally gets to do it. Cassie gets to say “None of this is your fault. You were never meant to die.” Conner ends the story by saying that we should all just move on. Neither of these strike me as particularly subtle, but they sure are passive aggressive! 

I take issue with the idea that killing Dick makes a perfect world. It sure wouldn’t be perfect for Bruce! Or Barbara! Or Tim! Or Donna! Or, or, or… the list goes on. If the argument is hinging on the idea that Dick dying makes the Trinity step aside and new heroes step up… that’s not exactly in line with DiDio’s feelings towards legacy characters. That’s why he wanted to kill Dick in the first place. And if Dick dying is necessary to end all future Crises… that’s pre-emptively setting up Dick’s death to be undermined and cheapened when the next Crisis inevitably rolls around. This story, so smug in its meta-commentary, handily ignores that there will always be another Crisis. Those events sell comics! DiDio was a DC exec, so it’s not like this fact is exactly lost on him. Of course, all of this is in the bottle of this single story, so it’s not like it matters, but. God. I hate this story.

And besides. We all know that any world with Batman!Tim is decidedly not a perfect one.

Scarecrow in “Jump Scare”

Okay. My pulse is back down. I’m normal again. I’m back to reviewing. This was a good Scarecrow story! It’s set during Blackest Night, but it’s just about Scarecrow terrorizing a couple who saw a horror movie together. He reflects on the nature of fear (as he is wont to do) and is chosen by a Yellow Lantern ring for his ability to instill great fear.

I don’t think this one ties into Blackest Night all that well, if I’m being honest, but it is a solid Crane story. He’s doing his thing, it follows the formula, bing bang boom. I liked the artistic depiction of showing the guy hallucinating as being in black and white while the rest of the world was still in color–it led from the classic horror movie motif well.

Lex Luthor in “God’s Chosen Man”

Okay. I’m writing this now before I’ve read it: I have high hopes for this one just by looking at the art of the opening page. I want this to be good.

This one is set during Final Crisis, and is reflecting on Lex Luthor’s doubts about Libra as he tries to get the Secret Society to swear allegiance to him and his power. As Lex ruminates, talking with the other villains, a hallucinated Superman follows behind, serving as Lex’s inner voice. Of doubt? Of conscience? As Libra and his masters conquer the earth with Anti-Life, Lex has the realization that Libra serves Darkseid, putting the pieces together that his Superman has been trying to spell out for him. Lex decides that he will be the one to defeat Darkseid, and Superman begins to laugh at him, wearing Lex’s face and mocking him for his arrogance. Lex admits that he needs Superman’s help to defeat Darkseid, and begins to work with Sivanna to plan their betrayal.

Okay, there’s a lot I love here. I love the art. I love that in his mind, Lex is dressed like the Silver Age. I love Lex stating “I don’t believe in gods. But I know plenty about aliens pretending to be divine.” But mostly, I love that this is good character work! It gets into the way Lex thinks, and it plays off his obsession with Superman, his intellect, and the fact that he’s smart enough to reflect on his obsessions with Superman. It provides greater context for what was happening in Final Crisis (which is always appreciated) and sets the stage for his heroic turn against Libra. It’s not especially Halloween-y, so far as these go, but I think it’s good comic work.

Midnighter in “Violent Tendencies”

During Flashpoint, in the world of Flashpoint, Lucas Trent is watching as the Amazonian/Atlantean war continues to devastate the world. Rather than stew on politics, Midnighter goes out to a Halloween party! There, he overhears talk of a serial killer with a victims list including some of DC’s best fighters (at least in the real world) and ignores it. At the party, Pyg roofies Midnighter and takes his home, ostensibly to help him. Of course, it’s Pyg, and he starts trying to kill Trent to turn him into a doll. However, Midnighter reveals he was faking inebriation, having actually been hunting Pyg himself. He kills Pyg, declaring that people can make the world a little better with blood on their hands.

This was a good Halloween spin. It had Midnighter hiding from the knife wielding serial killer, and it even had the classic connection between sex and death that these sorts of slashers trade in. Of course, Midnighter subverts it, but so it goes. I think it’s interesting that they set this during the Flashpoint event–Flashpoint #5 was the first time we saw Midnighter in a main DC comic, having previously been in the Wildstorm universe/Earth-50. I think this is a case of wanting to use Midnighter as a character but not wanting to play off any Crises outside of the New Earth era (1986-2011). Which, this accomplishes, but raises my bigger question… why are all the Crises in this era? I personally, as a fan, am served by this decision. I love New Earth! DC seems to recognize that fans like New Earth, given how much of Rebirth and Infinite Frontier were about bringing some NE stuff back. 

I think it must have been a conscious decision to limit the scope like this–I’m sure there are horror opportunities in events like Convergence or Forever Evil or Dark Crisis. Didn’t we have like one million evil Batmen ripe for horror? Maybe DC thinks we’re too close to these, or burned out (or just burned) from those events. Who’s to say.

[kreinvulon]

hey. i wanted to make this post for a while and honestly was afraid of putting this out there, but i felt i should share the reasons for my inactivity recently. this isn’t me quitting tumblr or leaving anything - please don’t take it as such. i’m aware i’m not responsible for people’s feelings, and that i don’t owe anyone work or activity, and that i should focus on myself… but, i still want people to know what’s up, especially those i’ve met through communities like gore’s - one which i’m still a part of, and one that has deeply helped me.

content warnings below for mental health and pet loss, sort of. should anyone see this, i hope you’ll take it kindly. if not, then i’ll just keep talking into the void.

i’ll start off with good news - as you all know, i got into college. i’m happy there, and i’m doing well in regards to assignments. i’ve got incredible feedback, and my teacher acknowledges that i have a very thorough understanding of design. it’s never felt more freeing to study something i’m genuinely passionate about and wish to pursue a career in, but i’m unsure if that will last much longer. i’m studying full-time, and while it’s only four days a week - two of which i am only in for 3 hours - it puts a massive amount of pressure on me mentally and socially.

onto the bad news. my dog was diagnosed with cancer a month ago - it’s lymphoma, and it’s an advanced stage. none of us how long he has left, and it strikes fear in me daily that he may be gone soon. i have horrible nightmares some nights about losing him, intrusive thoughts as well, and that too weighs heavily on my mental state.

the amount of work we have to do in college, combined with the time i need - i mean that seriously - to decompress afterwards overtakes my time to work on personal and commissioned projects. i have spent over 6 weeks working gradually on one commission only, and despite the communication i’ve given, and understanding i have so sweetly received, i feel so terribly guilty about it. people are trusting me with their hard-earned money, and i take so long that it feels unprofessional. i still aim to keep these going, given i have that target of buying a pc ideally by the end of this year or the start of 2025, but updates will have to be made to things, so that i don’t collapse under the pressure - in which i have already done several times over the course of this last month or so. i have not even had much time to talk with online friends or mutuals.

i thought i was genuinely getting better, over the three months i spent out of education following the completion of my GCSE exams. i got wonderful results and reaped the rewards in spite of how crushing the school system is. what’s happening now is me being reminded of that. i have been mocked by people i thought were friends for having different challenges to them, for completing school at home, and have had multiple dehumanising comments made about me by the same people who refuse to stop, no matter how many times they have been shut down by either myself, or members of staff. my mental health is possibly at the lowest point it has been since i was 13 or 14.

life is tiring. it hurts to say this, and i need to seek help, but i feel i can’t. i am not in a place where i can seek private support for things such as autism, which friends, my family, and i heavily suspect i have. with the state of things in the uk, i feel trapped and unable to get what i need, especially in regards to being trans.

if i can spare the time, i will continue to share what i am working on. i should note that me and leliana ( @/lastdb ) have been brewing up something wonderful that i’m sure lots of you will love - some of you may have already seen small progress shots of it on discord. i am on the final step before i release this artwork, and possibly the most challenging.

but, for now — don’t forget me! i promise i’m still here, just quiet, and needing to heal from a lot that’s broken me down. if you’ve read through to this point ( and i don’t expect many will ), then thank you. a lot. i’m still happy to make conversation. don’t be afraid to say hi, i won’t bite.

[variety-fangirl]

Not a lot of ppl write for him and idk if you still do but I just finished blackbird and I Loved your Jimmy imagine! Can I pls request something similar to that where she visits again maybe further along in his sentence or something about their pre prison life together?

Together Again / Jimmy Keene x fem!reader

Part 1 here

Summary: it had been 13 months of Jimmy's sentence and working to learn about Larry's crimes so he could be out sooner, fearing for his safety even further. The thought of seeing you again reminds Jimmy of memories of your life together, pushing him to reveal the truth from Larry about his killings.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS mentions of crimes, mentions of serial killer Larry Hall, brief mention of sex, lmk if I missed anything.

Authors note: absolutely my love! I have noticed not a lot of people write for him and that makes me sad because I loved the series and the character! Thank you 😁 that means a lot. Of course, I like both ideas so I decided to incorporate both. I hope you liked it and it turned out the way you wanted. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out! Thank you and enjoy!

Word count: 2k

13 months. It had been 13 months since Jimmy had been arrested and taken from you. It had been the hardest 13 months of your life but you knew it had been even harder for Jimmy. When he had told you about the deal where he would be out in a year and a half but had to gather intel by befriending a suspected serial killer, you had disagreed. You felt it would be far too dangerous and mentally draining for Jimmy to deal with, potentially hearing confessions of horrific crimes against young vulnerable girls. The idea had made you feel sick inside. You knew Jimmy would be able to be a free man, back with you in a much shorter amount of time but still, at what cost? Potentially his life if Larry found out he was lying?

Jimmy had spent the whole phone call and the next meeting talking about why it was a good idea and why he should take the deal, trying his hardest for you to be okay with the idea. Eventually, you ended up caving, needing him back with you, in your shared home. A second chance to turn your lives around and be happy together. But that didn't mean you were any less terrified of him not turning up at your next meeting. The fear that Larry would figure him out and kill him for betraying his trust made your blood run cold every time, filling you with dread.

Jimmy would spend the majority of his nights in his cell thinking and dreaming about getting back to you, back to his girl. He missed his dad of course but you were the things that kept him sane through the whole process and what allowed him to get close to Larry, you were a very motivational thought. He would often spend hours lying awake thinking about your life together, reminiscing about the special moments you spent together and how much he truly missed them. Missed you. And of course, he missed the more intimate and sexual moments you shared together. He didn't exactly have freedom or privacy in here, people would be listening and that didn't appeal to him.

Jimmy thought about the first day he met you five years ago, he had fallen for you the second he saw you. You were so beautiful in your red polka-dot sundress and small white heels as you sat with your friends in the local diner, you were drinking a vanilla milkshake. The way you held his eye contact as he walked past with his friends drew him in immediately, especially as that little blush smile appeared on your face before looking away. After thirty minutes of stolen glances and flirty smiles, Jimmy finally got the courage to come up and talk to you. The conversation flowed so well and neither of you could seem to stay far apart from the other. It didn't take it long for him to ask you on a date.

He thought about your first date the following weekend, he wanted to impress you so he took you to a nice restaurant. You had blown him away when he picked you up, dressed to impress. You wore a black cocktail dress with a slit that came to mid-thigh and showed just enough cleavage to be tasteful, it hugged your curves perfectly. Jimmy had never seen someone so effortlessly beautiful before, you made him hard just looking at you. The date had gone better than either you had imagined, you had connected on another level, and everything just felt so natural between you both. As if you had known each other for years. As the night went on, you inched closer and closer to one another, faces inches apart until you shared your first kiss. It was gentle and passionate, just perfect.

He thought about the first night you spent together, a month after he'd met you. You were the first girl he wanted to wait to sleep with, to show you he was genuinely serious about you. He knew from the moment you first talked that you were the one, he just had this gut feeling that told him so. It was the same night he had asked you to be his girlfriend, you had said yes to being his and he could not have been happier. He didn't feel like he deserved you but he damn well would show you how lucky he felt. It had been a night full of passion and intimacy, gentle touches and taking everything slow. He didn't want to just fuck you and be done, no, he wanted to take his time and make you feel loved. Sex had never felt that good with anyone else, none of the others had mattered enough to take his time with them. But you, you were different, special to him.

He thought about the day he first met your parents and you had met his, a day apart. Meeting your parents was something that genuinely terrified him when not a lot did, but he truly wanted your parents to like him and approve of you guys dating. It comforted him to know that you were equally as scared as he was to meet the parents, not that you had to be though because he already knew his father would love you. What was not to love? You were amazing. You even went as far as to get a gift for his father, you wanted to make a good impression. Jimmy himself had bought flowers for your mother and some beer for your father. Seeing how much each other's familes loved the other made you both feel so happy. Both days had gone so well that it solidified your relationship all the more, you were it for one another.

He thought about the day he had asked you to move in with him, it was about eight months after you first started dating. Nothing felt as right as the day he'd asked you to move in with him, he knew it was the right thing to do. Every day when he watched you leave his house would kill him, he didn't want to be apart from you. He felt completely and whole when you were near, he always had to touch you in some way. A hand on your thigh, his arm around your back or shoulder, his lips kissing your head or face frequently, he just wanted to always feel you close. You didn't mind, you loved it, your love language was physical affection and words of affirmation. So for you, it was perfect. So when he asked you to live with him, it just made sense and felt like you were serious enough to make that huge step.

He thought about the simple happy days you spent together over the years, enjoying one another's company. Being in prison made him miss the small stuff, things he realised he'd taken for granted before. Something as simple as cuddling in bed, being able to kiss you, say good morning, watching a film whilst cuddling on the sofa, the small things. He missed them so much, he missed you so much. Yes, he got to see you every few weeks but it wasn't the same, he couldn't touch you or spend proper time with you. It was absolute hell for you both, there was nothing more than either of you wanted than to share an intimate kiss or have some alone time.

The next time Jimmy saw you was a month later, 14 months of serving his sentence and 14 months of hell. He was beyond exhausted and mentally drained, he looked tired and a bit worn down but still as handsome as the day he left. He'd been working out plenty whilst inside you'd noticed, his arms visibly bigger than a year ago. Having to talk to Jimmy behind a glass wall with phones was torture, having him so close and yet you couldn't touch or speak to him properly without that weird muffled sounding voice. You placed your hand against the glass with a sad smile, watching intently as Jimmy sat down opposite you, the same expression evident on his face as his hand meets yours. The distance was getting to you both, that much was apparent.

"Hi." You say quietly, as each month passed, it become more and more emotional every time you came to visit Jimmy, you just wanted him home. "Hey sweetheart, how's my girl doing?" Jimmy wonders with a smile, he needed something to distract himself. You didn't really know what to say, how were you supposed to tell him you'd been utterly lost without him all this time, not really doing much of anything outside of keeping your shared home cleaner than it's ever been and visiting his dad a few times a week to try and distract yourself. Or how lonely your bed felt each night, especially as you found yourself waking up on Jimmy's side of the bed as you wore one of his shirts to sleep in.

"I'm okay, mostly worried about you. I'm spending loads of time with your dad though, so that's good. How are you holding up?" You lied because you needed to be strong for Jimmy, if he knew you weren't doing okay mentally or emotionally, he would be worrying himself to death inside every day and would be racked with guilt. More so than he already does, and you didn't want that. You saw a flash of some emotion you couldn't pinpoint in Jimmy's eyes before he smiled, you were never good at lying, so it wouldn't surprise you if he could see straight through your lie.

"Good baby, I'm glad. I'm hoping I won't be in here much longer, I feel like I'm getting close to Larry, I think he'll give up details soon. And then I can finally come home, and we can be together again... If you'll have me." Jimmy smiled hopefully as if he was expecting you to get fed up and leave him. He was surprised you hadn't, though he wouldn't have blamed you when his sentence was read out. 10 years was a long time to wait for someone. Yet you stayed faithfully by his side this whole time. He had some ass-kissing and making-up to do when he got out.

A look of hurt flashed across your face, "You know I will, of course, baby. You're my everything." It made you sad to think Jimmy believed you would leave him, you would never! Not that you could even if you wanted to, you were hooked and too deeply in love with Jimmy to leave now. He's your forever. He was the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, to be your husband and the father of your children.

A look of relief appears on Jimmy's face, "You're too good for me baby, I don't deserve you." He whispers into the phone, a longing and loving look in his eyes. You shake your head, disagreeing, "You're plenty enough and wonderful, and so deserving of me and my love." Your voice has a shake to it, tears brimming your eyes. "I really need you home." You whisper with a sigh, trying your hardest not to cry. Jimmy huffs, an intense gaze on his face, "I want to be so badly, hopefully, it won't be too much longer now and we can be back together again."

The buzzer goes off and the guards come along to escort you out, letting you know your time together was up. You look back to Jimmy and smile sadly, "I love you, be safe okay? Come back to me." You whisper with tears in your eyes. Jimmy nods, "I love you, I'll see you soon baby." He watches you stand and walk away, watching you leave broke his heart every time. He vowed from that moment that he was going to get those details from Larry and he was going to get out, back home to you.

[iesnoth]

Any advice for a Christian who "technically" isnt a Christian? A few months ago, I was on the rocks with my faith. Everything I stand for like LGBTQ acceptance (I'm undecided on my sexuality) and being pro-choice and what not goes against the Bible. At one point, I felt lost- like I didn't believe anymore because that's not what a Christian should believe in. But then- I felt this warm blanket cover my shoulders and it reassured me I still believed in God, even if I believed in those other things too. It makes me conflicted because obviously- if I don't follow the Bible's teachings, I'm going against God's word. But whenever I talk to him and pray, I never feel shunned for thinking such things. If anything, I feel reassured.

I'm saying all this because my By-the-Bible Christian friend says I'm not truly a Christian for these reasons (as does just about every single other "real" Christian I've seen on those videos like "Conservative Christians vs. Liberal Christians". So I don't know what to do. I still believe in god. I still pray, and love him- and I feel that deep down he loves me and all his other children no matter what. What do I do? Have I guaranteed my place in hell?

Thank you for reaching out with your very thought-provoking message.

First of all, I'm not going to tell you whether or not you are a Christian: that is between you and God. I'm also not going to tell you "The Rules," because it seems you know them. But I am going to take a few statements from what you've written and, Lord willing, give you some encouragement.

You mention "going against God's word", and though I agree in the sense that we all sin and we all doubt, our salvation isn't contingent on what we do. There's a whole theological discussion to be had about how "works" fit into "faith," but the crux of salvation is:

"If you confess with your mouth Jesus is Lord and believe in Your heart God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved." Romans 10:9

That's all it takes for salvation. That's it. There's another verse that's been a great encouragement to me recently:

"--work out your own salvation with fear and trembling [ie: respect for an absent authority], for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure." Philippians 2:12b-13 (ESV)

In sum, God has made all of us (Christian and non-Christian) because He loves us. Christianity is reciprocating that love and entering His confidence. He has a path for us which we can't change, but we can share in His joy by sharing in His plan. Each plan is designed to suit each person, and through the Spirit we discover it. But if you are in the Spirit you will discover it. (I'm sorry to the non-Christians out there for the religious lingo, but it's the shortest way for me to say this atm.)

You say you feel reassured when you pray. I don't know your situation well, but the Lord still loves you, and will always love you all your days. And He does want a relationship with you. (However, if you're receiving affirmations about beliefs you know are contrary to the Bible, I implore you to really dissect that warm feeling and make sure you know where it's coming from.)

Finally, you have not guaranteed your place in hell. No one alive can do that, because Jesus can wash away ALL sin if we ask Him to. And God gives us that opportunity, every day until we die, no matter what we've done. As long as we believe in Him and love Him, He forgives. Because He has loved us from the beginning of time.

My advice to you, as much as it is, is to make sure you truly KNOW Jesus. This is the "working out your salvation," what all Christians should be doing all their lives. Read the Gospels and KNOW Him, read the Old Testament and the prophecies about the Messiah. Ask hard questions and research them out without bias. The problem I find in both conservative and liberal Christians is the tendency to make "their Jesus." 'Judgmental' and/or 'all-tolerant' are two terms which should never be used to describe Him. Jesus of history fits into no box: He loved those society hated, He said controversial things to make people upset (Jesus could be quite the edgelord), He was endlessly compassionate, but also tired and angry. He was all this while blameless, all human while God. He did not bend to society then or now, but because of (and in spite of) that, loved everyone. You will not agree with some of what God says, because our sin nature keeps us from being in line with him. But Jesus said the most important command is just this:

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength."

If someone is lazy, a coffee addict, a murderer, whatever, it doesn't matter to God as long as they love Him enough to surrender to Him. But if the coffee addict refuses to give up coffee if He asks, do they love Him with their whole heart? If a lazy Christian refuses to get up when God asks, do they love Him with all their strength? God takes into account our weaknesses. He won't ask the impossible of us unless He equips us for it. But just as He sacrificed for us, He tells us we will have to sacrifice for Him, if for no other reason than this world is in opposition to Him.

Again, He knows our weaknesses. He knows our thoughts, our questions. And He knows how to answer us, if we'll reach out.

"The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." 2 Peter 3:9

I could go on and on about this, because there is so much nuance here. Instead, I'll leave you with a few resources.

I know Christians can get into echo chambers, where they come to believe God only works in a set way. Something which helps me avoid this is listening to other peoples' testimonies. Delafé Testimonies on Youtube is great for learning the myriad of ways God works. I've been surprised by how gentle He is in these stories.

This might seem hokey, but The Chosen series has helped me steer my understanding of Jesus in a more Biblically accurate direction, and it's genuinely one of the best shows I've seen. You can watch all 3 seasons on the Chosen app.

Mere Christianity by CS Lewis, or anything by Lewis. I've heard critiques about the man, but in consuming his theological work, I've found him to be progressive when it comes to sex and gender identity, especially for his time.

I hope this was helpful. I understand what you're going through, and am working out my salvation right along side you, friend. It's normal to have questions about theology and your own salvation. Let me know if you have any more questions and I'll be happy to help: I'm not an "expert" by any means, but I like talking about Jesus. I'll be praying for you, and praying for empathy and love in your friend group.

Peace be with you.

[morathicain]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers!

Thank you for tagging me @inrainprose :D

Here we go! ^^

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently at 227 on Ao3, which might change any day with how obsessed I currently am with writing for Kiseki XD Also have a few on animexx and fanfiktion.de from old old times which I probably should start transferring ^^°

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,120,354 so far which I'm quite proud of, especially since most of it was written during the past 4 years (3wbf be thanked)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

A LOT! I constantly write for 3wbf and then whatever I am watching (whether it be show or movie that inspires me). Some fandoms appear more often or reappear after months or years again, others just once and then never again. Lots of niche stuff though (either the show or topic) XD

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wait what (My Engineer - RamKing) with 737 kudos

Mutual anything (KinnPorsche AU - KinnPorsche) with 7 chapters and 700 kudos

One Moment to adore you (My Engineer - RamKing) with 649 kudos

Now you know (Not me the series - SeanWhite) with 608 kudos

Loving you on my second thought (My Engineer - RamKing) with 536 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely, YES! I've met some of my best friends through comment-discussions and -talks and I also wanna thank the people who take the time to show their appreciation <3

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh ... PHU! Good question? I guess it would be "One last call", a JynCassian fic which of course ends with them dying?

Or "I wish you were mine but I wasn't yours", a Bad Buddy fic which has Pran push Pat away?

(if anyone has other contenders in mind, let me know, my brain is a bit overwhelmed XD I don't count the BMF one because while it ends with a breakup, for me it's a hopeful ending)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I ... I don't know? I suppose each fic that has Ter and Mae and Phon alive and together should be considered a worthy contender for that question! And I love them all <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. Got some when I started writing in English but I'm glad I managed to continue anyway ^^° only weird ones sometimes that are hard to interpret but are usually not meant in a mean way? I think?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, I do. It always depends on the fandom actually. And ... I don't really know how to describe it but I'm usually not that explicit, I think? Lots of emotions are involved and I try to switch things up.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Probably the SPN One Piece crossover from over ten years ago? XD They were in a prompt I got, so I had to do it :P Otherwise the crossover between Manner of Death and My Engineer "It's all about the plants, babe" with King as TanBun's child. That was a lot of fun :D

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? Fingers crossed and wood gets tapped!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yessssss! A few into Russian and French and a Cherry Magic one into Vietnamese ^^

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

So many years back. One with a friend, another with my brother, a crack one with another friend XD Not sure we ever finished any of those and it was fun back then but I don't think I can do it again ^^°

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

To no one's surprise at all it's Shin/Neo/Miw <3

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

So far the wips I really want to finish are still on my list. I fear I might not be able to finish the one 3wbf one or the The Player one because other shows and ideas get in between, but it's still planned!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I was told I'm good at yearning and banter? Definitely like diving into angst XD

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Long plots, I tend to get distracted and also lose myself in the technicalities v.v

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it makes sense, why not? But not if it should be understood by everyone and happens more often.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Inu Yasha! It's been a long long time since then XD

20. Favorite fic you've written?

You ask WHAT of me????? askdjbaksjbdakjsbd

I can't say for sure. Like, I enjoy my own atots bodyguard AUs often enough, I love my own version for Moonlight Chicken more than the show itself, I very much love my current collection for Kiseki because they've taken over my whole soul. So many favourites when it comes to RamKing and omg, don't get me started on my 3wbf fics!

Me and you, both of you is one of my faves when it comes to giving Shin/Neo/Miw a happy ending though and when it's about underappreciated fics, I had a lot of fun with is "Revenge is a dish best served dead" with Ter and Phon killing Thana as ghosts :P And one I am still happy about, even if it's an old one, is a High&Low one: A kitten's persistence

Tagging now (but no pressure): @ommited-miscellaneously @nevaehs @himmelsstern ;)

[weedstop]

i notice i feel the most distressed over my gender stuff whenever i for some reason feel like i owe people some sort of explanation…. It’s like, i realize i don’t actually owe anybody an explanation of my experience with gender but i struggle sometimes with internalized transphobia and catch myself feeling insecure… feeling fearful about being misunderstood by people who don’t even matter… I have issues with insecurity outside of my being gender fluid. i’m sure i’d feel less fear and shame around being genderqueer if i felt less fear and shame about being myself in general. i guess it’s no surprise… Sometimes i catch myself thinking “I should be over this by now, i’ve identified as gender fluid for nearly 13 years”, but to put things into perspective, that’s not the only thing from 13 years ago that i haven’t gotten over yet. it’s okay that it’s not that simple… i’m working on things. and making progress, i mean my self esteem gets higher and my sense of self gets more secure and i let go of more shame as the months and years go by. Whenever i get the urge to explain myself, i sit with it and try to let it go. i don’t owe anyone anything. and my experience with gender and my experience with being myself is normal and okay. i used to feel more normal about this stuff whenever i had queer friends i could hang out with in person. i guess my urge to explain myself to those who i feel don’t or may not understand me, is really just my yearning to connect with those who would understand me without any or much explanation at all. other gender queers who get it. and maybe i also yearn to tell someone who would get it. it’s not a bad thing to want to talk about it

[anonofseasons]

Maybe it's due to not having spoons (fibro and the heat are getting to me bad), but my mood is up and down, and my feelings about Seasons are going up and down with it?

I'm like, "Oh this part is cute and I'm excited to share it!" and "Cal, shut up, please, you're being annoying. Keep it to yourself!" No one has said I'm being annoying. I just get super self-conscious now, bc... history of being told I'm annoying. Also, it's rather recent that I'd tell my now-ex that I was excited about something - that I'd finished a first draft or gotten a map drawn - and she'd respond with stuff like, "Did you see the witch Bath and Body Works diffuser?" (I had to beg her to congratulate me. I would do so for her when she had accomplishments, but mine? Meaningless.) Back to Seasons, though. I've been anxious that it's too long. I'm not out to set some arbitrary word count limit here. I mean "Was this really necessary, or did you just get too self-indulgent, and now you have too many loose ends to tie up?" (This is exacerbated by my writing out of order and fearing I'll forget something by the end.) That's just my brain, there. Worried that I was excessive and have made a mess, rather than a coherent story. I'm also worried that I sound so egotistical now that I'm finding joy in talking about my writing/characters. (This ties in with the first issue, that I should "shut up" haha...) I had such a weird process for years. I enjoyed the process of creation, but I... thought I was shitting out garbage. Characters, writing style, story, everything. Someone once told me years ago that I wrote nothing but man babies, and someone else later said the same thing. Second person also said my writing style induced their synesthesia so they couldn't stand to read my stuff. There have been other things, those are just some examples. It's so painful. I don't feel like I can become a better author if I don't have helpful criticism, but I've certainly had the destructive stuff launched at me. I'm still working on myself. I was only 13 months ago I got self-conscious and decided to stop sharing any of my writing publicly, so I locked up everything on AO3 in a private collection, I deleted or hid everything on google docs and other sites. And I struggled to finish Rascal (which I posted the final chapter just a few weeks before that and then ended up locking it up, haha), and now I'm struggling a bit with Seasons. I don't always struggle with ending stories, but... sometimes I do, and it definitely sinks my mood. I'm lucky in that some people have found my writing and been supportive. I'd be fucked if I didn't have @yume-x-hanabi being so supportive and nonjudgmental. She's a good writing buddy. And I have another friend who also just checks out my writing despite meeting her through fandom as well, even picked up Seasons despite the heavy content. ;A; That's a blessing. But sometimes I'm still working on saying, "No, I do love myself and these things. It doesn't matter what other people have said. They're a few people. They were mean. They don't define you or your work." Still, it sneaks up on me and leaves me scared that I have more work ahead. That I need to get better and better now, because if I want a career out of this, I'm going to have to bust my ass. And it's funny... I do enjoy the process of writing, I love building characters and writing stories and creating lore. I just wish after it was all done, I wasn't fearful that I just hot-glued a bunch of steaming shit together, and I refuse to see it...? XD; (Sorry that's a disgusting mental image, but... it wouldn't hold together, is my point.) Anyway, sorry if you read this for rambling so much. It's kind of negative. I gotta cheer up. ;A;

[the-haunted-office]

2, 3, 4,6, 13, 14

@parables-for-days

@katsuko-rp-blog

2. someone they love

"Cyrus! Even though we didn't always get along, he's grown to be like a father to me. To be honest, I never had a stable father figure in my life. I won't dump all my baggage onto you, but my parents divorced when I was about eleven years old and my step dad basically left our family in shambles after my mother died. Cyrus has been the most stable one I've ever had. We've been through so much together both as Narrators and as friends that yes, I can say I love him."

3. someone they miss

"Stanley. I miss him so much. I'm glad we got some extra time with him and there's some comfort in knowing that he isn't gone gone, but it still feels... less than without him. I hope he's happy with his family and sitting by a swimming pool sipping martinis and listening to Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel like he always talked about. He deserves that."

4. someone they admire

"My mother. She was the kindest, gentlest, most generous person I've ever known. She always knew the right thing to say when I was feeling down and just had this way with people. Especially me. There has never been another person who has understood me and been as patient with me as she was. I can only hope to be half the person she was."

6. someone they feel dislikes them

"September. 432. Although I don't really understand why she would dislike me. We used to be friends, back before we all got sealed in the office and the mist attacked. We used to meet up in the break room during our lunch breaks and talk. She was very shy, very sweet. She deserved better than everything that was handed to her. Maybe she dislikes me now, but I still think she deserves better."

13. someone they have conflicted feelings about

"Austin. Because I love him with all my heart, but I don't think he really returns my feelings. And I don't know if I can be with someone who doesn't return my feelings. Whatever he wants, whether that's us together or not or somewhere in the middle, I am happy to oblige. I just hope that if and when he decides that, it's what he really wants, and that his decision isn't made based off what he thinks I want just to make me happy or out of some fear that I'll want nothing to do with him otherwise."

14. someone whose choices have drastically impacted their life

"Maso. He's done a lot for me, met me more than halfway on a lot of things. I don't know if I'd be the person I am today if we hadn't met when we did. I guess you could say his choice to smoke a bunch of weed out in that hallway one day changed my life, ehehehe. Seriously, though, he did actually save my life, pretty much. I might have died a couple months ago, but he gave me strength to go on, to fight back. He stayed with me even when I was sick and sleeping all the time and hallucinating during the times when I was awake, too weak to get up and get my own tea. Gave me pain medications. My life wouldn't be the same without him."

[xxlynxxx]

With me-chapter 13

A/n: I think I’ll write a couple more chapters to this story before it comes to an end. Y’all better buckle up bc next chapter is gonna be DRAAAAMAAAAA!

Xoxoxo enjoy! 

The next couple of weeks felt as if they went by in a blur. Unfortunately, you had to go back home when Zeke arrived. Even though he didn’t actually see you until 3 nights after he returned, "Late nights" at the office again He of course tried to make those up to you with another couple thousand dollars in purses and sex, although you denied both. Keeping your word to Reiner, you didn’t allow Zeke to touch you. 

 

You had plans to break things off after the gala. Yes, you knew it was selfish to stay until then, but you also figured if Zeke got to use you the way he wanted this whole time, you might as well even things out. 

A couple times out of the week, you would meet up with Reiner. Half because your gala was rapidly approaching, and the other part because now that your promiscuous boyfriend was back in town, you feared he would catch you and Reiner together. 

Even though Reiner made it known, he had the opposite feelings you did when it came to getting caught. "Baby, I would like to tell you I care, but I would never want to lie to you." He would chuckle on the other side of the line as you scoffed. You looked forward to his calls on the days you couldn’t see him. His voice felt like a warm hug, even when you were apart. 

 

Tonight was the big night, and you couldn’t be more nervous. Everything had to be perfect. This gala would be your breakthrough if everything played out right. Reiner arrived two hours early to help you set up, and just having him around you was better than any anti-anxiety medicine you could take. "Yes, honey, everything looks perfect." He said kissing your forehead. "I can’t tell you enough how proud of you I am." You turned to fully face him, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him. 

As the guests poured in, Reiner pulled you aside for one more chaste kiss, knowing that tonight you two would have to act like the past couple of months never happened. What was meant to be a quick kiss turned deeper as he held you close. "Ahem," someone coughed behind you. Mikasa walked up to you two, smiling as she enveloped you in a hug. Reiner took that as his cue to find the rest of the group acting as if he had just arrived. "Damn girl, everything looks great..and you seem happy." Don’t think I didn’t catch that kiss. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. "I'm going to need details." She whispered that last part as Eren walked up, handing her a glass of champagne. "Yeah, these pieces look great. "Lots of bigwigs here tonight." He said he was looking around the place. "Yeah, thanks to your brother, of course." "Most of the guests are regulars at this type of thing, but you can of course guess who Zeke’s guests are." 

 

"Speaking of which, where is he?" Mikasa asked as you took her glass, taking a gulp and giving a quick eye roll; only she picked it up. "That’s a great question, Mika. He was supposed to have been here an hour ago. " You had to remind Zeke of this night more times than you could count. At this point, you weren’t even sure if he would show up. "He mentioned something about getting caught up at the office when I spoke to him earlier, but he should be here." "Especially on your big day." Eren said he was giving you a sympathetic smile.

You excused yourself to schmooze buyers and greet the rest of your friends. Reiner had his eyes on you the whole night; he didn’t want anything ruining this night for you knowing how important it was. Because of that reason, he didn’t try to make it known to you that Zeke had arrived and spent the first 45 minutes of his arrival at the open bar whispering in some blonde's ear. He wanted so badly to take you away from all of this. It made him physically sick to watch Zeke sleazily go from that random woman to coming up behind you as you spoke to a woman interested in one of your paintings. Zeke pinched your butt, causing you to jump, then put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder while the other hand held whatever number of glasses of whiskey he had already. Reiner couldn’t even pay attention to the conversation he was having with Jean, Connie, and Bertholt. He saw the quick look of disgust you had when Zeke touched you. 

Reiner downed the rest of the liquor in his glass as he watched with rage and disgust. He tried so hard to fight his inner thoughts of wanting to rescue you. claim you as his in front of everyone. "Calm yourself; this is Y/N night." "She's worked so hard to get here, so don’t let your emotions fuck it up," he thought to himself. 

"You good, bro?" Bert nudged him, following his peripheral vision. His best friend softly grabbed his shoulder as if to silently calm him, knowing he couldn’t say what he wanted out loud. "I’m going to get another drink." That was all Reiner said to him before walking to the bar and downing a shot of vodka. Normally he wasn’t a fan of shots or even hard liquor, but he needed to take the edge off and calm himself. 

[transfatliberation]

story time! tw internalized transphobia

I’m a Data Hoarder™️ and was going through my hoard about 6 months ago, when i discovered some old chat logs. Anyone remember Messenger Plus from waaaaaaay back in the day? Anyway, many years ago, like 13 or so, back when i was a teenager, i was a HORRIBLE transphobe, because… that was what i grew up with. I grew up in the Bible Belt. All i knew about trans people were like the jokes made in movies like Ace Ventura and 4chan posts (I KNOW, i know, i got better) about like the “open wound” GRS i now know to be bullshit, stuff like that. And of course, my abusive stepfather who punished any sign of queerness (and to be clear, i was a very obviously queer kid despite being seemingly a “boy” exclusively into girls, but that’s for another post).

All that to say, i had a loooooot of internalized transphobia, and really DID consider it like… a way to protect myself from the Capital-G Gender feelings i was having. So when one of my closest online friends i’d talked to for years came out as a trans girl to my little online friend group, needless to say, I freaked out.

I threw every “logical, rational point” i had at her, which is to say, i basically sounded like Ben Shapiro or his ilk do today and I just. kept. on. For so long. I really thought i was doing her a favor, really thought i was trying to save her from some life of delusion and torture, because that’s genuinely what i thought it was. i really loved her and was trying to shove her back in the closet because I knew it to be safe there.

but that’s not how it came out, because the fact remains, I was trying to do an inherently hateful thing. I had so much love for her, but hated the gender feelings I had in myself, therefore, took it out on her for being brave enough to actually come out with them. and believe me, i took every. single. fear i had out on her. oh, it makes me sick to my stomach still to this day.

Discovering those logs and finding them with that in them really changed my world. I really did not remember that at all, I repressed that memory completely. We barely ever talked after that, which is understandable! And not only that… I lost a lot of my online friend group from back then. I never registered why, though in hindsight, it’s obvious. I genuinely thought we just drifted apart. i even repressed that she came out!

I tried to email this girl and apologize, but it had been over 10 years since then. For all I know, she doesn’t have access to it anymore. Or heck, blocked me. It’d be valid. but all that to say, it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

and i beat myself up over it for a good few months too. Before I came to this comic, i had to come to its same conclusion. I’m gonna carry that weight. i’m gonna sit with it, and never repress or forget it again, but also not beat myself up over it. over 10 years have passed since then. i’m a completely different person than i was back then. Fuck, i’m literally unrecognizable from my past self in pictures from just a few years ago, of COURSE i’ve changed and grown since Teen Years Ago, the absolute sickness in the pit of my stomach when i think about that incident PROVES it.

But of course, i can’t just sit on my laurels now and rot either. I have to keep moving forward, always striving to be a better person than I was. I genuinely hope someday i look back on who i am now with the same “oh no bb what is u doin” energy. because that’s how i’ll know i’ve truly grown.

Me when I remember something I said ages ago that was wrong or my values no longer align with

[a-larry-retrospective-blog]

Before we start

I feel like I need to make a pinned post to introduce myself before I go on further with 'crying shaking throwing up' posts. So. Here it is!

You can call me R. I'm a '96 baby, not in the sense that I'm actually a baby but in the sense "you CAN and should do the math" because I know this blog will be updated so sporadically I'm not gonna update my age. Right now I'm 28, but you could be reading this as I'm approaching my 30s.

Three things about me: I'm haunted by Sherlock Holmes and the ghost of johnlock, I'm a TS scholar in the sense that I've been listening and reading and analysing her shit since i was at the ripe age of 13 years old, and all this should lead y'all to understand that I'm both a tinhatter and a deeply skeptic person. I have trust issues AND I like making theories, is that so bad?

Now, how the fuck did I end up here?

Imagine: it's the year of our lord 2024. I've been away from the 1D fandom, and the Larry fandom even more specifically (I was a lurker) for almost ten (10) years.

I used to lurk in Larry spaces between ?I think late 2011? to 2014. You can imagine what kind of fun year was 2012 to me. (Haylor is still, to this day, my Roman empire.)

Back in the day, I was a bit gullible (not to the point of believing the reborn dolls shit, sorry), so my thoughts in the last ten years have always been "well I don't know what actually happened between them: maybe they were, maybe they weren't" because i was Young (15 to 18) and not from an english speaking country and I probably missed a lot of nuance, and i didn't have the tools to analyse that stuff critically.

I didn't even listen to their albums unless a track was sneaked into my Spotify algorithm. And even then, I didn't pay that attention to lyrics or anything.

I'm blissfully ignorant, and I know I'm happy.

Fast forward to last month: the clock app (we all know the one) recommends me a video with Love of my life (as a TS scholar I cannot shorten it for fear of confusing the two). I'm like: huh. Inch resting. Let's hear the whole song. Oh, it's about "England"? I did not know an entire country could take a plane! Welcome back Sherlock from the hit BBC serie saying he missed "London" while talking about John, I guess?

Now I'm being silly goofy, but that kind of shocked me deeply to my core. Because like, okay. You're a songwriter and you're a DramatiqueTM songwriter at that. But. You WERE the love of my LIFE when you've barely reached a quarter of your life is objectively insane. That's something that has left a mark on you. And somehow I deeply doubt it's about one of his highly public relationship with one of the "blue eyed models" that Blondie was talking about.

So I started to dig into their songwriting catalogues, and boi oh boi. My frontal lobe is fully developed (hopefully), I have little to no parasocial relationship with two guys who I haven't looked for in the last ten (10) years, I'm an adult with a job and a degree and a second one on the way, and yet my first thought reading their lyrics was "oh, you guys are still both at the fucking restaurant, huh".

And now, here I am, with a new sideblog because I can't inundate my friends' dashboards with stuff we all agreed we outgrew ten years ago. I know I made this introduction so easily recognisable my friends could see it's me from a mile away. If you end up here, sorry for the war flashbacks! I love you!

I hope you all can enjoy your stay as I rediscover old Larry stuff, find out what I've missed in the last ten years, and generally comment on the state of whatever these two are doing.