#I will probably paint his face at some point though lol

[sofancydancy]

𝓜𝓪𝔂 𝓲𝓽 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓜𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪.

& he's done!!

#martyr gale #my art #gale dekarios #bg3 mystra #mystra when i catch you mystra #art #and yes his face was yeeted away because the style was not working with his facial features #I will probably paint his face at some point though lol #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanart #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baroque influences #heavy Lucretia influence #original pose/body by Juan carreño de miranda in 1651 #st stebastion by Juan carreño de miranda #I like the less light more #gale fanart #bg3 gale #baldurs gate iii #gale of waterdeep fanart

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's "Ghostly Gossip"! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" now introducing our second student entry for the blog... 'some guy I found on my grandma's attic'-- huh..? Wait, who wrote that down?? "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver

Messy (but progressively getting better) design notes:

Epel was one of those designs that just clicked instantly with me, I had a vision of the basics I wanted all sorted in my head even before I gathered most reference pics. I don't expect this to happen again to a majority of the remaining cast though 😫

Watching those doll restoration/repainting videos while drawing helped me set the general mood I wanted for him, even though the final result doesn't show much of this inspiration, at least in my opinion... I love the makeup and face painting details these artists put on the dolls, but I was afraid too much of that would make his design too heavy-looking combined with the rest of the outfit. If I ever decide to design alternative outfits for this series, I'll try to show off more of this lost aspect there

For the character in itself now, I imagine him in this AU to be more free to do and act however he wants compared to his og universe counterpart. Still being supervised by Vil, but not in the same level as before. Probably the reason why he got all those scratches and cracks on his body, I like to think he's having a little more fun with being a gremlin and running around all he wants lol. And due to that, his skin care routine baisically consists in Elmer's glue, to stick any broken porcelain shards together. Vil is not exactly content about that, but he lets most of it slide at this point 👍

Epel's totally the type of kid who goes around the gardens to casually collect bugs like he's in animal crossing. Like this video I found on reels, which I don't reccomend watching if you have a phobia of spiders/insects/bugs/snakes/frogs/etc cause, you know. But anyway I think MH Epel holds this exact energy and it's- kinda terrifying! In a good way though. come on let this kid be a kid for once. I also think this more playful part of him fits well with the fact that he's a little doll. OH and the fact that og Epel grew up around the elderly back in his hometown kinda makes sense in this universe too, like, he's the type of doll some grandparents would keep in their old house as a family relic or something. Could very much be the beggining of a horror story.

#twst #my art #twisted wonderland #twst fanart #.the ghostly gossip #epel felmier #monster high #twst au #pomefiore

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt:

Pairing: Mafia! Octavinelle and MC/Yuu/ Reader

Genre: Hurt/ Comfort ig? Slight crack

TW: Kidnapping, blood, minor character deaths, mc does get a little hurt, mentions of guns, usage of guns, violence (because mafia au), mc also curses at one point, talk of killing people, the prefect wears earrings and has hair (i saw someone use put this in warnings once). Let me know if I should add anything else!

AN: First request for TWST ^^ It's my first time writing for the Octavinelle trio, so please forgive me if they're ooc, I tried my best. This was very fun to work on! Send me asks if you wanna know more about my version of mafia!twst because I had so many thoughts about this entire au but I couldn't fit everything in one post lol. Not really happy with the ending (when am I ever) but I hope you enjoy!

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna do this," You warned your captors for the third time as they checked the cuffs holding you up by your arms. It was an uncomfortable position, kneeling with your arms restrained with metal chains above your head. Your shoulders felt sore, and with how every movement made the skin of your wrists rub against the harsh metal, you just knew that you were going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruises around them.

Vil was going to be furious about that.

You watched as the leader came into your range of vision, a self-satisfied smirk painting his face as he walked over to you. There was quite some distance for him to cross to reach you, and he took his sweet time as he leisurely walked over to you. Probably an intimidation tactic, just like how making you kneel was.

You looked at him, unperturbed. Your eyes roamed over the man, who for all his intimidation tactics, was nothing but a poor little boy way in over his head. A reckless little minnow who didn't know his place, as Floyd would say.

Speaking of Floyd. You grimaced at the monstrosity of an outfit the man was wearing. In all your time as a valued member of the mafia, you had seen many outlandish outfits, courtsey of the more openly unhinged Leech twin and the field of work you were in (power had a way of killing the fashion sense of people and letting it rot inside their head). But this... was on a whole another level.

You mentally lit a candle for everyone who had to witness the... very unique display.

A sharp slap snapped you out of your thoughts. 'Did this man, just backhand me? Well fuck you too bitch', You thought to yourself as you looked back at the still smirking man. You could feel a bit of wetness at the edge of your lip, a slight stinging also being felt at the same spot. Your tongue darted out, recognizing the metallic taste of blood as you gingerly licked at the small wound.

"So this is the little Prefect of Night Raven, hm? How... pathetic. Truly, the mafia organization has fallen if they allow the likes of you to hold any position higher than a discardable pawn," he huffed, and you resisted rolling your eyes. Here comes the villainous monologue, you thought to yourself.

As the man spoke, you took note of the people in the room. Apart from you and the man, there were five other men, all very familiar faces. All of them were earlier members of NRC, who left the organization 'honorably' before your appointment as the consigliere to Dire Crowley, the main boss.

There was nothing honorable about the way they were treating you right now though.

Very reluctantly, you listened to the man's speech about how he was basically aiming to cripple Night Raven Mafia by killing you. You forced back a yawn through the speech that was supposed to strike fear into your heart; unfortunately for him, you dealt with seven very unpredictable and occasionally difficult underbosses on a daily basis. Said underbosses must have already been informed of your forced absence.

Now it was just a matter of waiting and watching to see exactly who would come to your rescue...

The door slammed open as soon as you thought that, and the eyes of every person in the room turned to it. You smiled as a very familiar face entered the room, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding.

"Hi Floyd," you chirped, unfazed by the frown on his face and the dangerous aura around him. Floyd's eyes met yours for a moment, brightening at seeing you, before turning even harsher when he saw the state you were in; clothes (gifted to you by Riddle) rumpled, carefully styled hair (courtesy of Vil) in a disarray, and a slight swelling on the side of your face you were struck at (which would send nearly everyone into a murderous frenzy).

"Who touched my Shrimpy?" Floyd growled out at the men. "Don'tcha know that I'm the only one allowed to rough them up? You're just begging to be squeezed to death."

At this point, the men, who were earlier frozen in fear, started to fumble with their guns. Before they could even get their weapons out, gunshots rang throughout the room, each man dropping to the floor one by one.

"Ah, pardon me, but I would prefer if you did not aim your weapons at my brother," a familiar voice spoke from behind Floyd to the now dead men in the room.

You grimaced at the blood now flowing out and seeping onto the floor, the puddle growing in size and inching closer to you.

"Jade, get me out of these things," you said, successfully getting his attention as you rattled the chains holding you up.

"Ah, of course dear Prefect," Jade hummed, and you did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. Jade walked over to you, stopping only to take the keys to your chains from the pocket of the leader. Placing the key into the lock and turning it released you from your uncomfortable position, and you yelped as you flopped onto the ground unceremoniously.

"Shrimpy~" Floyd's rapid changes in mood was one thing you did not believe you would ever get used to, "did you really get kidnapped by this sad little bunch of minnows?" He asked, pulling you to your feet and slightly spinning you.

"Shrimpy is so helpless~"

"Indeed," Jade smiled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You would never get used to the all too malicious upturn of Jade's lips either. He took you from Floyd's arms, ignoring his twin's grumbling as he dusted off your clothes. "Pray tell, how could such... insignificant little men capture you, dear Prefect?"

Before you could answer, a third voice rang through the room. "Jade! Floyd! I told you not to kill any of them!" Azul huffed as he entered your line of vision, glaring at the two men who sandwiched you.

"Ah, pardon me Azul, but they were going to aim their weapons at Floyd. Not to mention how terribly they were treating the Prefect," Jade hummed, not at all repentant of his actions. Azul huffed in frustration, glaring at his consigliere.

You gave him a little wave, and Azul's eyes softened as they met yours. He looked calm and collected as he walked over to you, but the trembling of his hands as he held yours gave his true feelings away. His eyes quickly scanned your body for wounds, narrowing in displeasure at the reddened skin around your wrists and the cut on the corner of your lip.

"Prefect."

"Azul," you said, not missing the way his eyes relaxed considerably as he saw you wearing the seashell earrings he had gifted you. "Ah, so that was how Idia-san found out you were kidnapped almost immediately," he hummed. You raised an eyebrow at his words.

"The earrings have trackers in them," Jade helpfully explained.

"Well, in any case, we must take you back to the Lounge. Everyone else must have assembled there by now."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because, Prefect, we were supposed to bring your kidnappers so that a joint decision could be taken for their punishment," Azul sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.

You glanced at your kidnappers, wrinkling your nose as the blood puddle slowly crept closer to your shoes. "They're dead."

"A most unfortunate incident, yes. But, nevertheless, their identities will suffice for now. This just goes to show that we must never leave any loose ties," Azul said ominously. "Perhaps my dear colleagues will learn a lesson from this."

"... Sure. And how did you three manage to make them stay back at the Lounge while you carried out this rescue mission?"

"The heads found it best to send us three since we were most likely to bring your captors back alive," Azul said, glaring at Floyd who just roamed around the room disinterested in the conversation. "Well, that is what Crewel and Trein thought, at least."

You chuckled. "I don't think the outcome would've been any different with the others either so... let's just get to the Lounge."

Azul smiled. "As you wish, Prefect."

#first time writing for octavinelle bbys im very nervous #apologies if they seem ooc or mischaracterized i didnt mean to #here goes nothing #twst #twst writing #twst fanfic #twst octavinelle #octavinelle #twst azul #twst jade #twst floyd #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x you #twosted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x mc #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #ice writes #my writing

[lucky-draws]

(transcript + some notes/explanation under the cut:)

i feel like the context of this is maybe only apparent in my own head LOL so basically ive kind of imagined an au where, based on the rebirth ending, james has succeeded in bringing mary back to life, but also maria, and also james gets killed in the process. so it's basically just maria and mary alone in the townTM trying to figure each other out. and this is a letter maria sends mary at some point basically. transcript in case the font is annoying to read:

Mary, You’ll have to forgive me if any of this sounds a little weird. I haven’t written anybody a letter in years, and I’m not sure if I have much of a way with words. Though I’ve been spending a lot of time in Ernest’s library lately, so hopefully some of his great literature has rubbed off on me. Somehow, I had this idea that I never liked reading much - that it wasn’t really my style - but I ended up getting kind of hooked. His dusty old books sure aren’t the worst company in this town, at any rate. I wonder what we really are, you and I. I used to think of us as two music box dolls: dancing side by side, spinning in perfect unison to somebody else’s tune. Like a pair of clocks keeping the same time. Two parallel lines, and an impossibility for us to ever intersect, to face each other head-on without some kind of disaster.

We’re not completely identical, though. If you looked closely at me - if you could bear to do that - you’d see all my imperfections. I lack your fine details. The paint on my lips is messier, my joins are showing, and there are bits of sprew left between my fingers. Pick me up, and you’ll feel how much lighter I am - I’m missing a lot of internal parts, you see. I’m a knock-off - we were cast from different molds. You were born of nature, while I was born from your very own killer. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that. Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Or maybe I’m not so important - maybe you can only think of him. Or perhaps you’re trying not to think of anything at all when you sit by that lake for hours on end. I don’t know how you can stand it - going to the lake every day. It's so quiet. No ducks, not even a single bird. I’d go crazy, I think. That’s why I like to stay at the bar: there’s no one here either, of course, but it feels easier to imagine there might be. To pretend that we’ve only just closed, that those drinks on the table belonged to the last customers, and not to me. I’ve been so restless lately, sitting in the bar all night. I wonder if - no, I guess I’m hoping that - something’s going to give, soon. I think I’m losing the beat  - I’m spinning slower than you are. I think it’s because I keep getting distracted, always thinking of you. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s simply because you’re the only thing in this dreadful town that’s not a monster. But I think you must be as lonely as I am. Much more so, probably. And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you’d only reach through the mirror and touch me. I’m full of missing pieces, I know - but I have this notion that between us, we might just be able to come together into something like a real person. You know, some days I feel I hardly know who I am; but other times I feel so sure that I’m beginning to dance to my own beat. It’s no fun dancing alone, though. Well, I guess you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting at the bar tonight. I always am. I’ve waited there every night - for something, someone, anything, anyone - for what feels like forever. But these days, I’m just waiting for you. See you around, Maria

#silent hill #sh2 #silent hill 2 #maria silent hill #mary shepherd sunderland #just realised you can see the cursor in some of these because i was being insane and creating these in google docs. oh well <3 #i was gonna do an art piece w like the music box doll visuals and a bit of text but then i realised i had much more than just a bit of text #so it became a whole ass letter

[illubean]

chrollo and illumi with a gf that LOVES makeup and always trying new looks (also tries to convince them to apply some makeup on them;)

Illumi and Chrollo with MakeupArtist!reader

Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer Type: Headcanons, Fluff, written with Fem!reader in mind but can be Gn

this was a fun request ^__^i hope my descriptions make sense lol

Warnings: none

Illumi Zoldyck

at first he's pretty indifferent about your hobby

he mainly just doesn't understand it

you're already pretty so whats the point of wearing so much makeup? um because its fun Illumi 🙄

after a while though he starts to see the appeal

his favorite part of your makeup looks is the lipstick/gloss

your lips are just so pretty and he can't wait to kiss it off later <3

he probably favors your lighter, more natural looks

it perfectly accentuates your face without covering up or taking attention away from your features too much

he likes watching you do your makeup sometimes

he has that blank wide eyed look you can't really read but don't worry, he's just curious as to how you do it

if you ask or offer to do his makeup he'll look you in the eyes with a firm "No." before turning and walking away

but one day he gets sent on a mission where he has to go undercover as a beautiful woman HAH

he let you do his makeup for the job and you practically had a field day considering how happy you were

you curled his already long lashes and put on some mascara, giving him some sparkly green eyeshadow to match his dress, eyeliner and painted his lips a pretty natural shade of pink

to say he wasn't happy about having to cross dress would be an understatement but he was super cute anyways

quick, snap pictures while he's distracted by his own reflection!

Chrollo Lucilfer

oh yeah he loves it when you do your makeup

its so fun to see you switch up your looks, he truly does see it as a form of art

like one day you have a simple natural look and the next day you have eyeliner up to your brows? that takes talent!

unlike Illumi, Chrollo actually prefers the heavier looks

he appreciates the time and artistry that goes into them and likes that there's more for him to look at

his favorite looks probably fall underneath the goth category so bonus points if you do a look like that

he just really likes the large eyeliner and lashes, its just something about it that's unconventionally elegant

he's a little reluctant to let you do his makeup at first but it doesn't take too much convincing for him to say yes

he lays on his back with you sat in his lap while you work your magic

he has some trouble keeping his face still, more specifically his eyelids but he's trying his best not to mess you up

you give him some big winged eyeliner with inner corners, dark eyeshadow, a wine red lip, and the longest pair of lashes you own

when he gets up to look at himself he lets out a loud laugh at his reflection before turning to you and playfully batting his (your) lashes and puckering his lips

"Aren't I just so pretty?"

he'll let you have your fun every once in a while but he much prefers for the makeup to be on you

#hxh 2011 #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #hxh chrollo #illumi headcanons #illumi hxh #illumi x reader #chrollo #illumi

[headfullofpresley]

Welcome back to tumblr, Tam! I wanted to see if you’re taking requests and if you are…could we see 50s!El giving the reader a facial and maybe he accidentally cums in her eye.

Idk that would be some funny shit…😂

hi nonnie, thank you so much! decided to make this into a blurb even though i never write blurbs (simply bc i always get carried away lol), but i love this idea! i'm a sucker for the funny, mundane shit. hope you like it! 💗

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

Word count: 858

Warning(s): strong language, handjob, facial, elvis cummin' in your eye.

“Faster, faster, oh fuck- faster, baby..” Elvis grunted as he stood in front of you, feet planted firmly on the floor of his bedroom, head thrown back as his lips were parted. His chest was heaving up and down heavily, the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening letting you know he was close to falling apart. Usually, you knew that at this point, you’d have to put his cock in your mouth to let him paint the back of your tongue white.

You were a good girlfriend like that.

And you were an even better girlfriend for agreeing to his idea of having him cum on your face. After all, he just came back from his two year long stint in Germany and you had missed being intimate with him so much that you didn’t even protest to this naughty little fantasy of his.

You were completely focused on the task as your hand was moving faster and faster, ignoring the slight ache in your wrist. What was about to come made you determined and while this had been Elvis’ idea, you were curious about it too. He always brought out the naughty and wild side in you and every time you had sex with your boyfriend, you were completely swept up into the moment.

“Shit… Little, y-yes,” he grunted as he looked down at you, quickly replacing your hand with his own, continuing your work. You took it as a sign to get ready and sat there all pretty on your knees, hands placed on your thighs. He grunted as he panted heavily, mumbling something about you having to close your eyes but you were too eager and lost in the moment to register his words. You barely had time to register them to be quite frank, because in a matter of seconds, warm spurts of cum landed on your face and your eyelashes fluttered in a reflex.

You wanted to see the whole thing happening, but that probably wasn’t the best idea.

As some of it managed to creep into your left eye, you didn’t even have time to cuss at your boyfriend for having some of his cum land in your hair, because you felt as if your eye was on fire. Letting out a panicked shriek, you squeezed your eye shut and covered it with your hand. Elvis didn’t notice it at first, until he saw you sitting back on the floor and fanning your hand in front of your closed eye, too scared to open it.

Elvis, unfortunately, didn’t have the time to admire his creation on your face as he saw the state you were in. Kneeling down next to you, he gently grabbed your chin and looked at your face. “Baby, are you okay?”

You glared at him with one eye, grasping the tissues he held out to you he got from the box on the bedside table, shoving him away. “You came into my eye, you idiot!”

Elvis sat on his knees opposite you, putting his hands on your knees as he watched you rub your eye with the tissues for a second. He should be worried, and he really was worried, but he couldn’t help but to see the humor in it. You looked at him as he let out a roaring laugh, managing to slowly open your assaulted eye, which was red and teary.

“I t-told you.. told you to close your eyes!” Elvis stuttered as he laughed hysterically, and laughing even harder as you gave him another shove and he fell back on the floor. You wanted to be angry at him and give him a hard time, but it didn’t take you long to be laughing just as hard as he was.

“I’m never doing that again!” You told him after the two of you had calmed down a little and your eyes didn’t sting as much anymore after Elvis had inspected it and kept a damp washing cloth against it, while also cleaning the rest of your face.

“Don’t say that, baby,” He grinned as he smothered your face with kisses, ignoring how he could still taste himself on your skin a little. “’S not like you’ve gone blind, now did’ya?”

“Well, sure felt like it!”

He laughed his contagious belly-laugh again and wrapped his arms around you, getting off the floor and rolling in between the sheets on the bed with you. Before you knew it, he was already on top of you and in between your legs again, grinning down at you. “I’ll make it up to ya real good, Little,”

“You better,” You smiled at him as you trap him in your embrace by wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, keeping him close against you as he leaned down and kissed you.

For the rest of the night, he made it up to you.

Again, and again, and again.

And every time, he made sure to be mindful of your left eye, kissing your eyelid lovingly as he reminded you how much he missed you when he was away in Germany for those long two years.

taglist: @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates @livelaughelvis @lettersfromvenus @elvisalltheway101 @that-hotdog @robinismywife @jaqueline19997

#tam.answers #requests #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis blurb #elvis presley blurb #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis #elvis presley #tamwrites

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗮 || klitz x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || klitz is lucky enough to have some really great best friends. he should just be satisfied with that, but instead he can't stop himself from longing to be more than friends with you. the problem? well, there are a few. you're just friends. you're one of the hottest girls in school. the list goes on. some feelings are hard to ignore (and some biological reactions are hard to hide), though, when you show up to the beach looking like that.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || 13.5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || smut (loss of virginity, male masturbation, unprotected sex even though it's literally the opposite of the point of the movie, premature ejaculation (lol), semi-public/almost caught), mild angst?, pining, tons of fluff, the reader has a ~reputation~, slight OC with the readers family/characterization, reader and klitz are in high school, eli is a lil shit but we love him, the entire plot of the movie and the main character of the movie are ignored entirely lmao

the first part of this was already posted on my blog as a drabble but the rest is a (very long) continuation! if you are 18+ please enjoy and feel free to leave a comment or reblog to show your support <3

Do you know how impossible it is to hide a boner in swim trunks?

I mean, seriously— Klitz was worried if he looked at you for more than a second, there'd be a tent in his pants so obvious that Boy Scouts would start trying to camp under it.

"Hey, lookin' good," Eli praised you, and you laughed; he loved your laugh. Of course Eli could handle this, he watched so much porn that his dick was probably half comatose by this point, but Klitz was still an excitable 18-year-old with 20/20 corrected vision and a massive, secret crush on one of his best friends. (The female one, contrary to popular rumors).

"Oh, this old thing?" you dismissed as you laid down between Eli and Klitz on the towel. How was he supposed not to look at your legs, at your neck as you let your head fall back for a moment, at your tits gloriously displayed by the way you propped yourself up on your elbows?

"Somebody call Sports Illustrated!" Eli continued, and you shoved him on the shoulder playfully.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, he could just see it behind the massive sunglasses. You looked back at Klitz, who looked away the second you caught him.

"Yeah, uh," he coughed, "you look good..."

"Thanks," you smiled. "You too."

"Wha— me?" he returned.

"Yeah, him?" Eli agreed.

"You think you don't look good shirtless?" you raised your eyebrows.

"He looks like someone painted nipples on a white T-shirt," Eli frowned.

"Nothing wrong with being pale," you shrugged, "isn't that why we're out here anyways, for a little sun?"

"You think I look good?" Klitz repeated again, still processing what you'd said, feeling his face heat up from more than the beginnings of a sunburn.

"Uh, yeah," you scoffed. "Is that so mind-blowing?"

"It's not his mind that's the issue," Eli noticed, "I think he's worried about blowing in his trunks."

"Hey!" Klitz shouted defensively, but it came out all weak and wobbly and he had to clear his throat.

"Really?" you smiled proudly.

"Yes," Eli insisted.

"No," Klitz denied.

"Whatever, I'm going for a swim," you announced, standing up in front of the towel— giving him a painfully wonderful view of your ass, by the way— and jogging towards the shore. Eli and Klitz watched you dive into the ocean, before the former gave his friend a knowing look.

"What?" Klitz asked.

"Dude," Eli began firmly, "this is ridiculous. You need to just go for it."

"I... no, I shouldn't," Klitz decided for the thousandth time. "She's great, but she's our friend, and if I messed it up it would be so awkward between all of us—"

"You won't mess it up!" Eli insisted. "She's into you! Give her the D!"

"Okay, that's... kinda not what I'm talking about," Klitz frowned, "you're missing the point."

"What other point could there possibly be?!"

"I'm out of here," Klitz groaned, standing up and walking towards where the water vacillated on the shore.

~

At the end of the day, as the sun was going down and Klitz collapsed into his bed after a much-needed shower, he closed his eyes and saw you first thing. The way you smiled when you laughed, every curve and detail of your body in that damn bikini, your skin dripping with ocean water that reflected the sun like glitter...

His skin was still warm from the leftover heat of the sun, the slightest tint of a tan visible when he compared his stomach to the line on his hips where the trunks had covered. Somewhere across the neighborhood, you were probably in the shower now, untying that string at your back and letting the water wash the sand and salt off your skin.

Out of instinct, his hand was already wrapped around his cock, imagining the way you would wash your hair, run your hands all over your skin— did you touch yourself in the shower? He wasn't even sure if girls did that... sure, they probably do it sometimes, but maybe not in the shower— maybe lying in bed, like this, with your legs spread and your back arching up off the baby pink sheets he remembered from the last time he was in your room. He could just imagine how good you would look with tan lines across your hips and back, around your neck and down your chest... he could trace them all with his tongue, he could hold your thighs open and hear you moan while he tasted you.

His cock was throbbing in his hand already, and he stroked himself faster.

Just as he was really getting into it, his phone rang. "Shit," he blurted out, startled, as he let go of himself and fumbled around on his nightstand for the cell. "What?" he answered flatly when he saw it was Eli calling.

"Am I interrupting something?" Eli said, voice tainted with his grin, and Klitz coughed when he realized he was audibly panting. "Listen, I know you wanna see those pictures I took at the beach."

"I'm good," Klitz dismissed.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do just fine on your own, Romeo," Eli insisted, "but you're gonna wanna see these. I mean, you know she's basically like my sister and I'm still working on half a hard-on over here."

"Dude, that's disgusting," Klitz grimaced.

"Hey, I'm not creeping or anything, she asked me to take these," he recalled; and yes, you had, posing for him and everything— though you had rejected some of his more salacious ideas. Klitz almost laughed to himself as he remembered Eli trying to talk you into posing on your hands and knees. Like a lion, you know, you can snarl and stuff— it's empowering! he'd justified. "I just figured you'd want some of these moments preserved in more than just your memory," Eli explained.

"I mean, we got like, pictures together and stuff, right?" Klitz remembered. "I might want a copy of those."

"Yeah, of course, I've got a best-of compilation of all your hoverhand moments," Eli scoffed, "those aren't the ones I'm talking about. I'm talking about spank bank material— really good stuff."

"You're awful, you know that?" Klitz reminded him.

"You don't want me to email these to you then?"

"No, send it," Klitz sighed.

"Atta boy," Eli grinned, clicking 'send' right away. "All yours, pal, go nuts. Good luck looking her in the eye tomorrow."

"Yeah, I've somehow managed it for the past three years," Klitz mumbled before hanging up; he sat up on the edge of his bed, pondering the level to which he'd sunk for just a second before he got up and crossed the room to his computer. Eli's email had already come through. Subject: You're welcome. 16 attachments.

He sighed and got comfortable in the chair as he opened the first one. Even before he touched it, his cock flexed at the sight of you lounging back on the sand; somehow, he'd managed to forget just how little that bikini covered, just a few pink triangles covering the key parts, two over your tits and one slipping down between your thighs. He clicked to the next one, all but whimpering to himself seeing you laying on your stomach, kicking your feet up, laughing at something Eli had said. Your ass looked great, but he was looking at your smile the most. He wished you'd been laughing at one of his jokes instead, that was the best feeling in the world. Maybe second best, to when you hugged him and he could feel your body against his own...

The next one was taken in the water, you were bending over slightly to reach for something— that curve in your back, that's what he would run his hand over, up and up on his way to grab your hair and pull it back as you moaned loudly for him, begging him to fuck you faster. He'd push your shoulders down, making you bend over even more, he'd hold your hips and tell you how perfect you were.

You were running in the next one, and your legs looked so good he could cry; he could kiss his way up them slowly, until you were so desperate that you grabbed his head and shoved it right into your pussy, and he'd eat you out until you cried.

Klitz, don't stop— you feel so good, you're so good at this— I've wanted this for so long...

He was already ridiculously close, and there were still 12 pictures left. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get through them all before he made a mess all over his hand.

Your tits looked amazing in the next one, it was obvious they were what Eli had been trying to photograph, but he still got plenty of your face in the shot. Klitz jerked off faster, imagining coming all over that chest and face, pulling the bikini top down and out of the way so he could finally see what he'd been dreaming about for years. He didn't just want to see them— he wanted you to show him; he didn't just want to touch them, he wanted you to ask him to, to moan quietly as he did it, to ask him to put his mouth on them...

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he gasped out loud, because it made it easier to imagine your voice in his ear, encouraging him. I'm close too, please don't stop— Klitzy, you can come inside me, if you want, just don't stop!

The next picture was the best one yet; he was in it, and he usually hated seeing himself in pictures, but you were hugging on him and he was laughing and the way you were looking at him... it made him wonder, for a second, if you could feel the same way about him. Because it looked just like the way he thought he looked when he looked at you.

He remembered when Eli took that picture, he remembered how your skin felt on his and how he wished he was brave enough to wrap his hand around your waist— he remembered the next one before he clicked to it, he saw you kissing his cheek as he blushed so hard it was turning his forehead pink; Eli, being the unwanted wingman that he was, had told you to kiss him for the picture, it was your choice to go for the cheek, but Klitz was on cloud 9 either way. Maybe if he was more of an asshole, he would've turned just in time to catch your lips with his— but then again, if he was an asshole, you'd probably not be his friend. He might just be one of the guys you went out with for a few weeks and then cried on Klitz's shoulder about. Believe it or not, Klitz preferred being this guy, the guy stuck at his computer jerking off as he imagined you. He might never get to touch you the way he wanted, tell you everything he wanted to say or make you feel as amazing as he knew you really were... but at least he could make you happy. You were laughing in the picture, after all, and you looked so beautiful.

He choked out your name as he came suddenly, much harder than he anticipated, eyes shut tightly as hot liquid started to run down over his fingers...

When he caught his breath and opened his eyes, your picture was still on his computer— and there was jizz all over his keyboard.

"Fuck," he groaned, looking around for tissues or something; he settled for a dirty t-shirt on the floor, and made a mental note to himself to insist to his mom to do his own laundry this week as he wiped up the mess he'd made.

Just then, his phone beeped with a text message, and he picked it up to see your name with a heart beside it.

I had fun today :)

He was still trying to come back to reality, and avoid the impending guilt for his ulterior motives. I had way too much fun today, he imagined replying, if he were more honest.

Me too, he sent back instead, Eli's pictures turned out great

you saw them already?? jealous!

He hadn't meant to give himself away like that... Ask him to send you the best ones, Klitz suggested to you. He set his phone down to keep cleaning up the embarrassing scene, but you replied quickly

all he sent me was the ones of us together with the title "hottest couple at westport high"

Klitz swallowed thickly when he saw that, wishing Eli would back off and let Klitz handle his crush on his own timeline... he was still only two years into his five-year plan— you can't rush art! LOL Klitz replied, hoping to keep it casual and vague.

too bad we're not a couple :( you sent back... Klitz wrinkled his eyebrows together when he read that, not really sure what you meant. Did you mean like, too bad we can't be a couple because we're such good friends? Or were you just kidding? He read it a thousand times in four seconds, trying to figure it out, until you sent in one more text.

yet ;)

~

Oh, that’s it— right there!  Harder!  Fuck me harder!

His hand was a blur over his cock, his eyes shut tight, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat and starting to get pins and needles.  He was so close, so fucking close, and the image of you was right there in his mind— you wore his favorite skirt of yours today, the tight one that showed a glimpse of your thighs when you crossed your legs.  Right now, he was busy imagining that skirt rolled up to your waist as you bounced on top of him, head tossed back in a cry of pleasure.  While his free hand clutched at his sheets, he was thinking about both his hands running up your legs to grab your hips, moving you just how he wanted.

“M’gonna come,” he warned with a gasp, bucking up into his own hand.  

Yes, Klitz, he heard your voice in his head, I want you to come— come for me, baby, come inside me—

“Ohhhhhh my god,” he choked, whimpering slightly as the pleasure hit him suddenly and sharply, right in his gut; he slowed his movements down as he came, sticky spend coating his length as he panted like he’d just run a marathon.  His face was hot as hell and probably beet red, but it always got like that when he came hard thinking of you and felt that guilt sink in a second later.  

He was so sure you’d freak out if you knew he did this… you’d think he was such a creep, and really, you’d be right.  You’d stop being his friend, you’d stop hugging him, you’d stop talking to him— you’d definitely stop sending him cute texts and joking about how it’s too bad we aren’t a couple.

Groaning, he covered his face with his arm.  Why did you have to say stuff like that, were you just trying to drive him crazy?  You were doing it more lately, and he kept laughing it off awkwardly every time you did it— what else could he do?  But those texts, he hadn’t stopped thinking about them since you sent them two days ago; well, he hadn’t stopped thinking about them until he saw you in that skirt today.  And then he was only thinking about that until just now.

Right at that moment, his cellphone rang.  Of course it was you; just his luck.  He cleared his throat, guilt swelling in his chest, and grabbed the phone to flip it open and answer.  Unfortunately, he didn’t make it very far into that plan when he noticed his hand was still covered in come and he’d smeared it onto his phone, now, too.  Grimacing, he pulled away and found a tissue box by his bed (like any prepared high school boy would have) to start wiping it all up.  Just before it would’ve gone to voicemail, he got enough of it cleaned up to answer while he quickly tried to clean the rest from his lap.

“H-hey,” he greeted thinly.

“What took you so long to answer?” you wondered.

“I was in the backyard, sorry,” he bluffed.

“Oh, well, have you finished the term paper yet?” you asked.  

Yes.  “No.”

“Great!  I thought maybe you could come over and we could work on it together?” you suggested.  “I’m just, like, totally stumped on how to write a good conclusion paragraph.”

“I’ll come over right away,” he offered, “i-if that’s okay…”

“Yeah, totally,” you hummed happily. 

~

He loved being able to walk to your house.  It could be a bit of a nuisance in the middle of the night when he was randomly compelled to run over and throw rocks at your window and tell you everything; it could also be a nuisance when you came to his room, sneaking in through the window looking for some trouble to get into.  But overall, he enjoyed having you so close, just across the neighborhood, and it made studying together like this really easy.

When his cell started ringing in his pocket, halfway into his walk, he pulled it out to see it was Eli calling.  

“What’s up?” Klitz asked when he answered, still walking as he talked.

“Wanna come over?” Eli asked.  “I got this great new tape I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“I can’t, I—” Klitz began, darting his gaze around his view of the neighborhood and hoping to come up with a good excuse by the end of his sentence.

“You’re going to her house again, aren’t you?” Eli sighed.

“Yeah,” Klitz admitted.

“I thought you said you were gonna stop doing that so much until you got over her," Eli recalled.

"That was the plan, but then…" Klitz trailed off.

"Then?"

"Then she asked me to come over," Klitz groaned, hearing Eli's exasperated cry from the other end of the line.

"Dude, seriously," Eli scoffed, "you've gotta stop being such a simp!"

"I'm not a simp, she's my best friend," Klitz insisted. 

"No, I'm your best friend, she's the girl you've been in love with since we were freshmen and still don't make a move on," Eli corrected.

"I can't just make a move!  You know I have no chance with a girl like that— I wouldn't even know how to make a move, I don't have any moves."

"Either get over her or get under her, man, but I can't listen to you whine about this anymore," Eli decided.  "She's kinda slutty, isn't she?  Why don't you just ask if she'll sleep with you?"

Klitz swallowed thickly.  Yes, you had a bit of a reputation.  He didn't mind that; he didn't like that people spread rumors about you, but he wasn't surprised by it anymore either.  He knew that you acted like you were fine with that attention, even wanted it, but that you'd really gotten your feelings hurt a few times.  And, he knew that if he asked you to have sex with him, assuming he had a chance solely because you were known to put out, you'd hate him because you were just like all the guys who used you and tossed you away.  He wanted so much more than just your body, if he didn't he wouldn't have stayed your friend so long.

He remembered when you hooked up with Tate Winters because he said he broke up with his girlfriend, only to discover it was a lie when his not-ex wrote SKANK on your locker in permanent marker.  The school janitor tried to clean it for hours, which only brought more attention until he finally gave up and just painted over it— and then nobody could forget it happened until the "wet paint" signs were gone.  And as if that weren't enough, apparently Tate's best idea to get back on his girl's good side was to tell the whole school you had a loose pussy and secretly stuffed your bra.  You tried to laugh it all off at school but when you and Klitz were alone, you cried for hours.  He held you until the shoulder of his t-shirt was totally soaked and you just fell asleep.

"She's not a slut," Klitz corrected Eli firmly.

"Well, I don't know what else you call it when a girl gives it away more than the fuckin' Salvation Army," Eli joked.

"She's… a little adventurous," Klitz conceded, glancing at the house he was walking by and noticing the garden had a new ceramic gnome, "but that doesn't mean she wants anything to do with me."

"You won't know until you try," Eli pointed out.  "Just wait until she does something stupidly-hot— which you know she will at some point because she's always doing that kind of stuff—"

That, he did know.

"And then just let her know you're down to clown!" Eli finished, like it was an obvious sort of solution.  "I mean, if she sleeps with all those guys—"

"She does, that's exactly my problem," Klitz replied.  "She's got all this experience and I'm a virgin.  She likes guys who actually know what they're doing."

"Tell her you wanna learn from the best," Eli suggested.

"That's weird," Klitz frowned.

"Tell her you have a terminal disease and your dying wish is for some pussy," Eli offered instead.

"That's so much worse," Klitz shuddered.

"Whatever— honestly, it's really your own fault now," Eli scolded.  "She's not just gonna fall in your lap, Klitzy, you gotta go for it."

"Hm, I think I'll just keep doing nothing and die alone, but thanks," Klitz decided.

"Okay," Eli sighed defeatedly, "but I'm telling everyone at your funeral that you had a chance not to be a virgin forever but you were too afraid to do anything about it."

"Appreciated," Klitz grumbled, hanging up just as Eli started to warn him that you would probably bring a super hot new boyfriend of yours to his funeral.  It was just in time, too, because Klitz was just then turning off of the sidewalk to make his way up the path over your front yard right to your house.

Still holding onto his backpack’s strap on his shoulder with one hand, he leaned forward and knocked on your door which opened a second later.

“Oh, hi there, Timothy!” your mom greeted him with a smile.  

“Hey, Mrs. S,” he nodded in return, suddenly noticing she was wearing a nice dress and jewelry.  “You… look lovely, is it a special occasion?” he asked, afraid it would come across too forward, but she laughed in a flattered sort of way and he was relieved.

“You’re such a sweetheart— we’re just going out to dinner,” she explained, the other half of the ‘we’ already obvious before your dad showed up beside her.  “Honey, Timothy’s coming over to work on that term paper she mentioned—” she began to inform him.

“Riiiight,” your dad nodded as he recalled something you must have said to them.  “Good to see you, Tim,” he offered even though nobody called Klitz ‘Tim’, and when he extended his hand for a shake, Klitz almost reached out but suddenly hesitated.  He’d only had time for a Kleenex wipedown, not a real wash with soap and water, since he’d busted all over that hand thinking about this man’s daughter.  But he wasn’t sure he could get out of it, and so, with a suppressed cringe, he shook your father’s hand with as much enthusiasm as he could feign.  Kill me kill me kill me—

“Come on in!” your mom offered, stepping aside for him to enter the foyer, which he did.  “She’s upstairs.  Help yourselves to snacks if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” he nodded to her as they started to step out the door.  “Enjoy your dinner!” he offered with a wave.

“Such a polite young man…” he heard your mom’s voice trailing off just before the door shut on its own; Klitz sighed.  Your parents liked him, which would be a boost to his chances to date a lot of girls— but not you, the chronic rebel.  For the most part, you were well-behaved as far as teenage daughters go: he’d never seen you get wasted at any parties and you got good grades and everything, it was just all the guys you dated… he figured your parents must not know about most of them or they’d be a lot stricter with you.  Wouldn’t any good, old-fashioned suburban parents freak out if they knew their daughter had gone out five times with a guy who inexplicably has had tattoos since sophomore year— or if they heard that rumor (which he happened to know was true) that you and Jake the quarterback had hooked up in his dad’s truck?

Bounding up the stairs, Klitz navigated to your room where he found you laying on your bed, on your stomach with your head propped on your hands and your feet kicked up and swinging slowly.  Eli had shown Klitz some foot fetish porn once, at which point Klitz had sworn he did not have a thing for feet— which was true, except that the day after that he’d noticed you were wearing platform flip-flops and had your toes painted with a flower shape on them and there was a silver bracelet around your ankle (you informed him sternly when he mentioned it that it was an ‘anklet’ not a bracelet) with a sun charm and, well, he still didn’t think feet were actively sexy, but if anyone had sexy feet, it was you.  And there they were, lackadaisically swaying in the air— your toes were painted today, too, and instead of an anklet you had a toe ring on, and he could help but imagine what it would be like if you ran your foot up his leg—

When you noticed him in the doorway, you smiled up at him and slid shut the magazine you were reading.  “Hey,” you beamed.

“I thought you were working on your paper,” he remembered with a frown.

“I decided to wait for you to get here,” you laughed as you sat up on your bed.  “And, you know, I was checking to see if this Seventeen issue was going to give me any inspiration to write about the War of 1812.”

Klitz just smiled and rolled his eyes, sitting down next to you on your bed at exactly the moment you suddenly stood up. 

“Ugh, you know that thing where you can go all day acting fine and then suddenly the tag on your shirt is trying to kill you?” you sighed, and Klitz nodded in agreement.  You were more sensitive to that kind of stuff than he was, but he get what you meant.  “Anyways, point is, I’ve been wearing this stupid top all day and I can’t focus.”

“Okay,” he mumbled; he liked that top, it was tight enough to show off your figure but not so tight that he’d be tempted to get jealous.  Best of all, it had words written in sparkly lettering across the chest, which gave him a socially-acceptable reason to look at your boobs for three seconds when he first saw you at school this morning.

“I’m gonna get into something more comfortable, m’kay?” you explained, but he didn’t understand that you meant literally right here and now until you started to lift your shirt.  He looked down with wide eyes, swallowing thickly as he saw your tanktop land on the floor… and then your bra right beside it.  Jesus fucking Christ.

He stared at the floor so intensely that he felt like he was about to burn a hole all the way into the living room below.  He couldn’t stand it when you did stuff like this— well, he loved it, but he hated it, too.  You were right there topless and if he had a bit more courage and a bit less respect for you he could just look up and see you.  But even just knowing that you were stripping in front of him made his cock twitch, so he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool if he actually saw anything.

You walked to your closet and rifled through some things, apparently settling on something because he could hear you pop it off the hanger and slip it on over your head.  He didn’t look at you until he was absolutely sure it was safe, which was when you plopped down next to him and made the mattress bounce a little.  It was a forest green hoodie, with yellow letters across the chest: YALE.

“H-hey,” he choked, “isn’t that mine?”

“It was,” you grinned cheekily.  You were wearing his clothes, you were wearing his clothes, this was like his biggest dream and worst nightmare coming true at once.  He knew this image was going to burn in his mind and he was already looking forward to his next chance to jerk off to the thought of it; it was like every domestic fantasy coming true, his dream girl in his hoodie—

“I thought I lost that,” he laughed nervously.

“You did, and I found it,” you shrugged.  “I meant to tell you that you left it here but, then I forgot… and I’ve been wearing it as pajamas.”

You were sleeping in his hoodie.  You were, like, 90% of the way to being his girlfriend at this point, except for all the key parts such as liking him back and kissing him and letting him take you on dates and stuff.  Maybe he should just be happy with this— after all, somewhere out there are plenty of guys wishing you were wearing their hoodies right now and not Klitz’s, right?  Actually, probably half the guys at school would kill to be here right now, in your bedroom, on your bed, watching you cover your hands with the ends of the sleeves.  

Difference is, some of those guys actually have a chance with you.

“You’re not, uh, dating that insanely ripped dude anymore, right?” Klitz stammered out.

“Who— Frank?  God no, he was a creep,” you rolled your eyes, “which, like, yeah, I kinda knew going into it, but I guess I thought he’d lighten up a bit.  But he was so rude and like, pressuring me and stuff…”

Klitz tried not to react to hearing that, but he hated to imagine it so much.  

“I mean, I’m no virgin,” you scoffed, “not since the summer before junior year, but like, back off, you know?  He was always bitching that we couldn’t do it at my place.”

“You couldn’t?” he realized, a little relieved that he wasn’t sitting on the bed where you and Frank might’ve banged.

“I’m not allowed to have guys in my room,” you explained.

“Uh, I come over all the time,” Klitz noticed, “your dad literally just let me in here.”

“Oh, you don’t count,” you mentioned in passing, and Klitz sighed in defeat; he was such a non-threat that your parents basically forgot he was male.  How comforting.  “Anyways, I dumped him because he was annoying and dumber than a box of rocks.”

“Those seem like good reasons,” he mumbled, not really sure what to say.  If he sounded too congratulatory, he might seem creepy himself, so he wanted to stay semi-neutral.

“I think the next guy I date has gotta be smart,” you decided suddenly.  “Like, not necessarily an intellectual, definitely not condescending about it, but smart.  And nice.”

Smart and nice— would you also be willing to accept scrawny and pathetic with permanently sweaty palms?

“And no more guys who go to the gym five times a week, I don't care what anyone says, that's not indicative of sanity," you added.

Wow, I can only bench forty-five pounds, guess I'm your dream guy!  If only I wasn't so… me.

"Anyways!" you chuckled, exhaling with a hint of exasperation.  "This paper… where do we start?"

"Well, what do you have so far?" he asked, and you pulled your paper up to read aloud.

You cleared your throat before you read dramatically: "In 1812, the War of 1812 began."

This is gonna be a long night…

~

He was pretty sure he blacked out for a second when you hugged him that tight.  He laughed nervously when you pulled back, still resting your hands on his shoulders.  “Yay!” you smiled wide.  “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I finished the paper this early!  Thanks, Klitzy.”

“Oh, sure,” he shrugged, and you took your hands away even though he wasn’t done memorizing the way they felt yet.

“And it’s only 8:30,” you noticed as you glanced at the clock, “my parents probably won’t be back until 10.  Wanna stay longer and, like, hang out?  Ooh, we could put on a movie,” you suggested.  “We’ve got popcorn and stuff.”

Sometimes you put your head on his shoulder when you watched movies together.  “Sure,” he agreed quickly.  “What should we watch?”

“How about you go microwave the popcorn and I’ll pick something out,” you decided, and Klitz gave you a thumbs-up in approval of your strategy.  

A couple minutes later, Klitz was in the kitchen watching the bag rotate and inflate inside its little food prison, while you were on your knees going through your dad’s movie collection.  You’d shown him where to find a bowl for the popcorn when it was ready, and he carefully pinched the bag by the edges to open it and start dumping it out into the plastic container.

When he carried the bowl back into the living room, now full of nutritionless high-sodium deliciousness, he found you bent over to push the tape into the player.  Clearing his throat, he let himself only glance for a second, except that when he got to the couch to sit down, your ass was literally at eye-level directly in front of him.  You were still wearing that skirt, too, and it was riding up as you bent over to show the back of your thighs; lord have mercy…

When the movie started to play, you grabbed the remote and hopped next to him, sitting just a little too close to him in the most painfully perfect way.

It was a scary movie, he could tell by the music even though it had just started.  He just hoped he didn’t humiliate himself by screaming like a girl or something.  He reached for a handful of popcorn at the same time that you did, and your fingers brushed against his inside the bowl.  Jesus, was he really this sensitive that that would turn him on?  At least the bowl in his lap would hide anything—

“Stop hogging it!” you giggled as you pulled the bowl away, but you yanked too hard and some of the popcorn spilled out onto his lap.  “Oh, fuck, sorry…”

You started to brush the popcorn away, running your hands all over his pants as he sat there frozen.  Do not move a fucking muscle Klitz, he commanded himself internally.  Wow, your hands on his thighs felt amazing; he had to fight not to shudder visibly.

“Gosh, I’m kind of a hot mess tonight,” you sighed, “at least popcorn doesn’t stain.”

Grabbing a final remaining white puff from right on top of his fly, you gingerly popped it into your mouth and smiled.  

She’s eating your dick corn, man, go for it! the voice of Eli appeared independently in his head.

Ew, what? his own internal voice replied.

As the movie went on and the popcorn bowl was depleted and discarded, he managed to mostly pay attention and not get too distracted by how pretty you looked lit only by the dim blue glow.  The movie itself was pretty boring, not too scary, but it did have some gory parts that made him cringe as you covered your eyes.  However, over time, both of you were drawn into the suspense— the shadows, the tense music, the promise that the killer was lurking just behind the corner— and when he jumped out of nowhere brandishing a chainsaw, you both jumped a bit and then laughed at each other.

“You’re not scared, are you?” you asked.

“No,” he assured.  “It’s creepy, I guess, but not like… scary.”

“Ooh, you’re so tough,” you teased with a poke to his ribs, and he moved away with a laugh.

“Stop,” he whined softly, laughing harder when you poked him again.  “You know how ticklish I am, don’t mess with me!”

“Knowing how ticklish you are is exactly why I wanna mess with you,” you explained, poking him repeatedly on the shoulder.

“Yeah?  Well, I know how ticklish you are, too,” he warned you, “and I’m stronger than you, so, you might not wanna start something you can’t finish.”

“Is that a threat?” you raised an eyebrow, reaching for his ribs again, but he grabbed your wrists and started to tickle your legs first.  You cried out in delight and tried to fight back, but the more you laughed the easier it was to pin you down and dig his fingers into your ribs or stomach.  “Stop, stop!” you begged through laughter so hard it brought you to tears, and he finally relented— he knew from experience that you would not hesitate to kick him anywhere you could reach to get him to stop.

There was a second right after he stopped, and right as your smile started to fall, that he realized how… sexy this whole thing was.  Maybe it was just because it was you: your inherent hotness could make anything sexy, you could probably scrub a toilet sensually if you needed to.  Still, a guy on top of a girl while her parents aren’t home, a movie on the TV, tickling each other… any other guy and girl at school and it would probably end differently.  But, he knew you and he knew himself and he knew how this story was going to end: a chaste hug goodbye, a scream into his pillow, and his dick in his fist while he whispered your name.

He awkwardly maneuvered away from you, and you sat up straight again just to scoot closer one more time.  It was peaceful again, for a while— he kept imagining putting his arm around your shoulders, but other than that it was fine— until another jumpscare on screen shocked you both.

You yelped and buried your face in his chest; he willed his heart not to beat faster, in case you could hear it, but it didn’t work… even he could hear his own heartbeat now, it was throbbing in his ears as you cuddled up into him and clutched at his shirt.

He couldn’t understand why you did this stuff— was it just a joke to you, hunting for sport?  It seemed like you knew he had a crush on you, Eli had probably given it away with his aggressive attempts to wingman, and now you were, what, toying with him?

“Protect me,” you whimpered, and he knew then that you were fucking with him, and after three years he decided he’d just about had enough.  Frustrated, he grabbed the remote and paused the movie, standing up briskly to force you to peel off of him.  “What’s wrong?” you asked from behind him on the couch, and he just sighed.

“I— maybe I should go,” he said suddenly.  “I have to work on my paper, too, you know.”

You stood up then, standing next to him, looking right at him.  You looked so hurt.  This was why he never stood up to you, because he hated seeing you upset— and knowing he’d hurt your feelings made his heart break.  But at a certain point, he needed to defend himself.  “Klitz, seriously, don’t go,” you breathed, “it’s dark and I’m gonna be all freaked out after watching that movie, you can’t leave me alone—”

“Are you making fun of me?” he blurted out, turning away.

“What?” you pressed.  “Klitz, I don’t—”

“Can you just stop?” he winced.  “I get it, I’m not like the guys you go out with, you don’t have to… rub it in.  And you don’t have to make me feel stupid for having a crush on you.”

“Wait, hold on,” you interrupted, grabbing his shoulder and turning him to face you, “start over.  You do have a crush on me?”

“Yeah!” he yelped.  “Obviously!”

“I didn’t think I was your type,” you explained.

“My type?  You know you’re gorgeous,” he stated plainly, “everybody knows.”

“Oh,” you smiled shyly, “that’s… not true, but it’s sweet.”

Klitz waited for a second, not sure what to say; you weren’t rolling your eyes and telling him to get over it, I was just being funny— you weren’t apologizing and admitting you went too far, either.  

“Eli said some stuff before, it made me wonder if you really liked me or if you were just being nice,” you admitted.  “And then we went to the beach together and… well, you looked really cute in your trunks…”

He blinked at you, speechless, and waited for this to all start making sense.  You clearly meant cute like a puppy or baby— girls had called him that before, and he knew it wasn’t really a compliment when they said it like that, it was demeaning.  How could his ‘cute’ compete with your beautiful?

“And honestly I’ve been into you for ages but I didn’t want to say anything,” you rushed, covering your face with your hands like you were embarrassed to say it.  “God, I mean, we’ve been friends so long and I just didn’t want to mess anything up if you didn’t feel the same way—”

“Is this… huh?” Klitz asked in a mumble.  

“Klitz,” you sighed, dropping your hands and stepping closer, looking up at him.  “I like you,” you explained, “like… you know, not just in the normal friend way.  Wow— sorry, I’m really not good at this, usually guys ask me out so I don’t have to do the whole love-confession thing.”

He gave you a wide-eyed look, and you seemed to realize what you’d said.  

“N-not that I’m in love with you!” you rushed.  “I mean, I’m not saying that I’m not— I’m just not saying that I am.  Because that would be an insane thing to say— damn it, Klitz!  I was trying to make it obvious so I wouldn’t have to say all this and you still ignored me!”

“What do you mean, ‘make it obvious’?” he repeated.

“Like, changing in front of you and putting on a scary movie and suggesting we go to the beach just so I can wear a bikini I bought because I thought you might like it—” you enumerated.

“I just thought you were teasing me,” he coughed; why was it so hot imagining you trying on bathing suits, looking at yourself in the mirror and wondering if he’d think you looked good?  You could’ve worn a trash bag and he would have thought you looked amazing, but the bikini was still a nice touch.

“Klitz, that’s flirting, I was flirting,” you clarified with a frown.  “You were so immune I thought you were just trying to let me down easy.”

“I’m not immune,” he admitted, “I’m just… incredibly stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” you insisted, stepping closer again and grabbing his shirt, tugging until he looked at you sheepishly.  “Klitz, you’re super smart, and funny and sweet, and you’re so good to me— I just didn’t want to lose what we have, you’re my best friend.  But I’ve been, uh, kind of thinking about you all the time for a while now.  And I really wanna kiss you right now.”

Finally getting over himself for a few seconds, he grabbed your face and kissed you first.  You tasted like lip gloss and minty gum, and when he took a deep breath in and kissed you harder, he could smell your shampoo.  Best of all, he felt you smile against his lips; he hadn’t kissed a girl since 9th grade and she had braces and smelled like zit cream— not that he could really blame her for that, everybody looks awkward in 9th grade— but that had been pretty underwhelming and this was everything he imagined kissing was supposed to be.  You melted a little and leaned your head back, opening your mouth wider: did you want him to put his tongue in your mouth?  He hoped so, because that was what he was going to do— slowly at first, until you nodded slightly and he really went for it.  He wasn’t sure how to be good at this, so he tried to not do anything too adventurous so he’d at least lower the risk of being actively bad at it.

You were really good at this, though; so good he was trying not to have too strong of a reaction… but it was tricky when you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer, humming contentedly into the kiss.  Were you always like this?  He knew you’d dated quite a few guys, he’d had the privileged honor to see you make out with a few of them when they were particularly obnoxious and had to show you off in the middle of the cafeteria.  Then again, he’d do the same if he could.  If he was currently capable of remembering anyone else in the world even existed right now, he would happily kiss you in front of all of them.

Tugging him back with you, you pulled him onto the couch as the kiss went from demure to desperate in seconds; the feeling of his weight pressing your body into the sofa cushions was already incredible, and then your arms wrapped around him and your hands started to slide up his back and it was like you were in complete control of his body.  He didn’t mean to moan your name but it just slipped out, he was trying not to get hard but it was impossible to avoid, and he couldn’t even stop himself from moving his hands lower to rub your legs.

Speaking of your legs, they spread when he touched them, slowly and sensually exactly like he’d dreamed it.  Groaning lowly, he slid his hands up higher to where that skirt was wrapped around your thighs and ventured far enough to push it up slightly.

“I want you,” you whispered, and it was so incredible that it jarred him out of his trance; he pulled back and looked down at you, his best friend laying there beneath him on the couch, just waiting for him to take you…

“Hold on,” he shook his head, “I— I don’t think we should do it like this.”

“Huh?” you sighed, sounding a little hurt.

“No— I mean, I… I want to,” he assured, feeling his face heat up a bit as you stared up at him, “I just— I wanna, like, take you out and stuff.  Like, we can go to dinner, or catch a movie— we can go to that drive-in you wanted to check out—”

“Fuck that,” you grumbled as you roughly pulled him down into another kiss, needy and sloppy with your fingers tangling into his hair.

He whimpered when your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer until he couldn’t hide that he was hard anymore; it was grinding up against you, and you moaned at the feeling— and Klitz realized that this might be the first time in his life he was supposed to have a boner.

“We’ve been waiting way too long to do this,” you explained as you broke the kiss to start tugging his shirt up over his head.  “I can’t wait until after a date, I need you right now— please?”

You were actually asking him, like he was doing you a favor; stunned, he simply nodded and finished taking his shirt off before he kissed you again.  When you broke the kiss again, he was only disappointed for as long as it took him to realize you were lifting that hoodie of his up— he hoped his face wasn’t as idiotic and dumbfounded as it probably was while he stared at your boobs, buuuuut he didn’t really have the brain power to care.  You were struggling slightly to get it off while still laying down on the couch; maybe it would’ve been smoother if he tried to take your top off for you, but it was so sexy watching you do it— you wanted him to see you, you were undressing just for him.  It was so perfect that it was probably just a dream but he didn’t mind as long as he didn’t wake up.

“You can touch me,” you whispered as you tossed the balled-up hoodie away, and he certainly didn’t need to be told twice.  With a small gasp at how genuinely perfect you were, he grabbed your tits— as gentle as he could manage, of course— and bit his lip while he kneaded them in his palms.  You moaned softly, closing your eyes, and he took a second to study your face before focusing his eyes again on your gorgeous chest.

He remembered a few times that your nipples had gotten hard enough to poke through your shirt— at school, at late-night study sessions when you were already in your pajamas, or at the beach when the cool breeze blew and that little bikini did nothing for you— and he’d imagined what they might look like based on their silhouette through fabric.  They were better than he could’ve thought, and they were getting harder between his fingertips.  Unable to resist, he bent down and captured one in his mouth, hearing you moan louder as he swirled his tongue around it.  How could your skin taste so good?  Did you use frosting as lotion or something?  Wow, that was an oddly erotic mental image…

Moving across your chest to the other nipple, he suckled harder until he heard you gasp out his name.  That had to mean he was doing something right, right?  It was certainly encouraging, and made his cock throb inside his pants.

Licking a long stripe up your chest to your neck, he heard you giggle and felt your fingers tug lightly on his hair.  “Klitzy, fuck,” you sighed, “you’re— you’re not how I thought you’d be…”

“Really?” he hummed against your skin, loving the way you writhed under him when he kissed just under your ear, or right where your neck met your shoulder.  He would be so content spending the rest of his life memorizing your body to find those spots that made you moan and whimper.

“Yeah, I— I thought you’d be shy, but you’re so…” you trailed off with a wistful sigh.  “I mean, you’re really sweet, but you’re driving me fucking crazy, too.”

He sat up a bit so he could look down at your face.  “In a good way, right?” he hoped.

“Yeah, in a good way,” you smiled, grabbing one of his hands and moving it down your body.  “I want you to touch me,” you explained, spreading your legs even more beneath him as you moved his hand up your skirt, “I want you to feel what you do to me.”

Panting like he’d just run a marathon even though he’d just been laying on your couch all night, he kept his eyes trained on your face as his fingers slipped into your panties and explored the silky-smooth folds of your pussy.

“Oh, you’re… you’re really wet,” he noticed, and you smiled wide.  How can it feel this good just to touch it?

“Mhm,” you agreed, biting your lip.  “I always get like that when I’m with you.”

“Fuck, really?” he choked, and you nodded.  “Oh, wow… I wish I’d known that.  Actually— maybe it’s better that I didn’t.  I would’ve lost my mind.”

You were so warm that he was losing his mind anyways— he couldn’t even imagine how you would feel around his cock, even though his brain really wanted him to try.  Were you really about to go all the way, tonight?  It was sudden, in a sense, but then again he’d been quietly in love with you for years, so… maybe it was actually kind of slow.

He made an embarrassingly high-pitched noise when your hand suddenly slipped down to rub on the bulge in his pants.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, losing his focus on touching you and needing to grip your thigh just to stabilize himself.

“I knew you’d be big,” you mumbled to yourself as you started to open his button and then unzip his fly.  His dick was fighting to bust right out of his briefs, and you reached down to hold his balls in your palm through the fabric; a massive shiver ran up his spine when you gently dragged your nails all the way up from there to the very tip of his cock, and he couldn’t stop himself from shakily whispering your name.

Looking much too proud of yourself, you sat up a bit and started to pull his pants and underwear down until his cock bounced freely and proudly— Klitz himself was less proud, not necessarily embarrassed but definitely a little overwhelmed at the feeling of your eyes on him.  He realized that no one else had really seen him naked, and thankfully no one had seen his erection before (though he’d had a few close calls while jerking off due to parents allergic to knocking first).  It was mildly terrifying, but he was soothed to say the least when you bit your lip at the sight and looked up at him with wide eyes.  You looked impressed, and he decided he would remember this moment anytime his confidence ever faltered: he had no reason to doubt himself ever again because there’s a massively hot girl looking directly at his cock and staring up at him like she’s seen something incredible.

“Jesus, Klitz, what were you doing hiding this monster from me all this time?” you smirked.

“I-is it really that big?” he wondered, sure you were just flattering him.

“Of course it is,” you insisted. 

“I mean, I’ve seen porn and stuff— it seemed kinda… normal to me,” he shrugged.

You laughed out loud, and he felt his cheeks warm up a little more as he wondered what he’d said wrong.  “Klitz, ‘normal’ for porn is absurd for real life,” you explained.  “I mean, the women in those movies, are their tits ‘normal’, or are they huge?”

“They’re definitely bigger than most— ohhhh,” Klitz nodded as he realized what he’d somehow failed to put together.  Porn was his only exposure to other dude’s dicks, so how was he supposed to know?

“You really thought this was average?” you chuckled, squeezing his shaft just enough to make his balls tighten up.  “Baby, you’re hung.”

He couldn’t help but beam proudly at that.  “Oh… really?” 

You smiled back at him with a nod, starting to stroke him slowly.  Your hand was so soft, your fingers so nimble and delicate, and the way you stroked his cock was much too slow but just right to keep him desperate and needy.  

“Oh god,” he sighed as he started to rock into your hand, shutting his eyes tight and hearing you giggle a bit.

“How does that feel?” you asked gently.

“It feels so much better,” he blurted out, under his breath.

“Better than what?”

“Better than when I do it to myself,” he continued with a tilted smile.  “Which is impressive considering I have… a lot of experience.”

“How often do you jerk off, Klitz?” you wondered coyly, and he knew he had no shot to lie to you with you looking him right in the eye like that.

“I don’t know,” he stalled for a moment, “maybe twice a day?  Sometimes more…”

You hummed, leaving it sort of ambiguous if you thought that was disturbingly high or not, but he was in no position to backtrack and pretend it was less while you had his dick in your hand.  You lightly ran your fingers up the length of his cock and back down again, teasing him until he struggled not to whimper aloud.  “Do you ever think about me?” you asked, almost sounding shy— like you were afraid he would say no.  What the fuck else would he think about?!

“Always,” he choked out, voice wavering when you twisted your hand right as it moved over the tip of his cock— there was precum running down already, smoothing your movements and making everything all sticky and slick.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you sighed.

“You don’t think it’s creepy?” he pressed.

“No, I mean, I couldn’t judge,” you shrugged.  “I do it too.”

He blinked quickly.  “You do?!”

“Yeah,” you breathed.  “I lay in my bed at night, I spread my legs, I smell that hoodie I stole from your lock— I mean, that you left in my room…”

You were still stroking him slowly and carefully, but with you talking like that he honestly thought he could come right now— but if he did, it would spray all over your face and chest, which should’ve been a deterrent but somehow just made it even more tempting.

“I imagine how you would sound when I put your cock in my mouth,” you continued.  “I fuck myself with the end of a hairbrush, just to feel full—”

“I-I don’t know if I can take this,” he stammered.

“Get down here, stud,” you giggled as you laid back on the couch again, grabbing his arm to pull him down on top of you.  You kissed him again, and he delighted in the feeling of his bare chest against yours— and then moaned when he felt his cock press up against your pussy, sliding over the slick lips when he involuntarily rocked his hips.

“Can I…?” he asked, trailing off.

“Can you… what?” you teased, and he tried to ignore his repressed upbringing for a second to not be embarrassed to say it.

“Can I make love to you?” he whispered, and you smiled wide.

“Oh,” you sighed bashfully, “I thought you were gonna ask if you can fuck me.”

“I mean,” he choked, “that too— I guess…”

You nodded; he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think the odds were better than not that you would say yes, but he still breathed shakily in response.  Reaching down between your bodies, he grabbed himself at the base to guide towards your hole— one of the benefits of having seen some porn before this was actually having a pretty decent idea of where everything was.  He shivered as he pressed his cock up to your opening, shutting his eyes for a second to compose himself.  

“Are you, uh… are you sure?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “are you?”

“Definitely,” he promised.  “I just sort of can’t believe this is really happening…”

“Me either,” you smiled, “in a good way.”

“You… know I’ve never…” he began, but you nodded again. 

“I know,” you whispered, “I wanna be your first— if you don’t mind.”

“N-no, not at all,” he replied, “this— this is all I ever wanted…”

And there it was, right in front of him: one little push of his hips forward and he was going to be inside you.  What if it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, what if sex is actually pretty lame?  What if the moment he does it, he suddenly realizes he’s actually gay— is that how that works?  What if he screws it up and you never talk to him again?  What if he’s patient zero for some terrible STD you can only get from virgins, what if your pill suddenly stops working and you get pregnant, what if—?

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching up and resting your hand on his cheek; it soothed him, and he sighed as he looked down at you and forgot every anxious thought in his head.  “You okay?”

“Never better,” he promised, and maybe the timing was kinda wacky but he finally did it: he held your hips tight as he pushed into you, immediately feeling the wind knocked out of him.  You were… tight, and warm, so warm— and smooth, but also sort of not considering the ridges of your walls that created this addictive friction on his cock…

You were perfect, in short.  And as he pressed his hips up to yours, he knew for certain that this wasn’t a dream or a coma fantasy or a Total Recall-type situation— this was real.  Nothing had ever been this real before.

“Oh my god,” you sighed, head dropping back on the couch.  “Fuck, Klitzy— you’re so big…”

He couldn’t stop himself from starting to move already, even though he heard you hiss in a breath like you were still getting used to it.  It was just too good and his body was running on instinct now, something primal and natural and slightly delusional.

You moaned again, louder, and held his shoulders tightly.  “You feel so good,” you whispered.

“You do too,” he managed to find the brainpower to whisper back.  He heard you whimper when he moved a little faster, already chasing this high that felt so incredibly in reach and he just knew it would be perfect— he couldn’t slow down, he’d never needed something like he needed this.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “yeah, oh god, don’t stop— you’re just the biggest I’ve ever—”

His cock throbbed before you even finished your sentence.  “D-don’t talk like that,” he hissed, “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to last—”

“It doesn’t matter,” you promised, “just come, fuck, I wanna feel your come in me, Klitz.”

And that was how Klitz lost his virginity to you and came in literally eight seconds.  As his face burned incredibly hot at the realization that he’d blown his load in less time than it takes to flip a pancake, he sighed and dropped his head onto your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out instantly, “fuck, I— I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” you breathed, “hey, it’s fine— it’s… really hot, actually.”

“Shut up,” he groaned.

“No, really!” you insisted.  “It’s sexy, Klitz— fuck, you’re so sexy…”

Okay, at this point his prevailing theory was that he’d encountered a genie some time today, who granted his wish to transport him to an alternate reality where his gorgeous best friend suddenly thinks he’s super hot, but also erased his memory of making the wish in the first place.  Except, if he’d done that, he would’ve also wished to be a sex god who made you come so hard you gained mild omniscience during your dozen consecutive orgasms— and instead he was just a two-pump chump who couldn’t even return the favor after you made him feel so incredible.  So he was back to square one again.

“Hey,” you said again, softly, lifting his face so he would be forced to look down at you.  He stared into your eyes, and he felt you in his arms, and he was still inside you— and he wondered if anything could ever be this perfect again.  “It’s really okay,” you promised, “you’ll last longer next time.”

“There’s gonna be a next time?” he realized, and you nodded happily.

“I mean, I hope so,” you smiled.  “If you want to…”

“But I was bad at it,” he pointed out.

“Sex is like literally everything else— you get better with practice,” you explained.  “And I think we’re gonna have to practice a lot… you know, just to really get super good at it.”

He just couldn’t help himself; “Wouldyoumaybewannabemygirlfriendorsomething?” he rushed out.

“Huh?” 

“Um,” he cleared his throat, “I was just asking if you might want to be my girlfriend.  A-and I could be your boyfriend.”  He added the last part just in case you were about to suggest that some other guy could be your boyfriend instead— not that you would do that, but Klitz wanted to be really really sure.  You smiled up at him and his heart was like putty in your hands.

“I’d love to,” you beamed.  “Actually, I kinda thought I already was… what, with you coming in me and everything…”

“Y-yeah, there’s that,” he mumbled, smiling nervously.

He turned his head when he heard a noise outside, it was hard to describe— sort of crackly like TV static?  He figured out what it must be when he saw your eyes go wide in shock: an electric car on a gravel driveway.  Specifically, your dad's electric car on your house's gravel driveway.

"Fuck!" you yelped, both of you dashing to get off of each other and find your discarded clothes.  Klitz was trying to get his mostly-still-hard dick back into his pants, which was a bit of a struggle, while you rolled your skirt back down and tried to turn the hoodie right-side out again.

He was still looking for his shirt— why did he have to toss it away so dramatically, was he going for distance or something? — when he heard a key in the door and thought his heart might fall out of his ass.

You found the shirt just in time and tossed it at him unceremoniously, giving him just enough time to navigate which limb to put in which hole as he fell down onto the couch beside you and with about a nanosecond to spare, you two were posed like a couple of chaste little Bible study kids, sitting next to each other with your hands in your laps and friendly smiles on your faces.

"Hey guys, how was dinner?" you asked your parents sweetly.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. S," Klitz waved at them.

"Hi sweetie," your mom cooed at him.  "Dinner was lovely, honey— how'd your paper turn out?"

"We… finished it faster than I expected," you answered, and Klitz nodded in agreement.

"Were you watching a movie?" your dad asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, "hope you don't mind us borrowing your tape—"

"No worries," he assured.  "How was the movie, was it good?"

"It was amazing," Klitz replied.

~

"I'll see you tomorrow," you smiled shyly, clutching your hands together as the two of you stood outside of your front door.

"Yeah," Klitz agreed with a contented sigh.  He didn't think he'd ever seen you looking so… demure, maybe even innocent.  It might've just been an aftereffect of having to play it cool in front of your parents just now as they told you about their dinner and asked Klitz a bunch of questions about how his parents were doing and Yale and stuff.

After giving him a split second of a mischievous smirk, you pushed him back against the door and slammed your lips onto his, kissing him hungrily.  Okay, so definitely still not innocent…

You pulled away sooner than he would've wanted— he wanted to kiss you for hours, really— and placed your hands on his shoulders gently when he tried to chase your lips with his own.  You looked around for a second as you stepped back, making sure no one was nearby before you reached under your skirt and pulled your lacy panties down your legs; you stepped out of them gingerly and stuffed them into his pocket with a grin.

"Something to remember me by, hm?" you offered.

As if anything could ever make him forget this.

Holding tightly onto your panties in his pocket, he walked home on a cloud.  He whistled, he'd never whistled as he walked before.

The tune stopped only when he stepped inside his own house again and found Eli at the kitchen bar, happily chatting up his mom who greeted him quickly while she cleaned up after dinner.  “Oh, hey Eli,” Klitz nodded; Eli was the type to show up unannounced, this wasn’t anything new, but it was more surprising when he’d been in his own head the whole walk home.

“Hey, Klitzy,” Eli returned, smiling.  “I was just stopping by because my mom told me to bring your mom some book about yoga or something— but she said you’d be home soon…”

“I figured you wouldn’t be out too late if you were just studying,” Klitz’s mom pointed out, seeming to have a slight ulterior motive with the statement.  “You seem to go over to that girl’s house a lot—”

This is normally the part where Klitz would defensively say she’s just a friend, Mom and she wouldn’t really believe it because she loved her son too much to properly understand that a guy like him and a girl like you wouldn’t get together.  Of course, that wasn’t really as true now as it was the last fifty times, but he also didn’t want to immediately blurt out that you’d just become his girlfriend because, well, for one, it was a little pathetic to tell his mom that just a few minutes after it happened.  Secondly, she’d probably ask questions Klitz was not at all in the mood to answer.  Thirdly, Eli was here, and maybe it wasn’t the right time to tell him, either; and, finally, if his mom knew you were his girlfriend and not just his best friend, she’d probably start coming up with new rules about curfews and doors left open and bla bla bla— the last thing he needed was any obstacles to get to you now that he finally had what he’d been dreaming about for years.

“We’re really close,” Klitz finally decided to say, and that seemed to satisfy his mom enough to dismiss the two boys to Klitz’s room.

“I told you, I don’t wanna watch your tape,” Klitz began as soon as they were alone, sitting down on his bed with a sigh as Eli made himself comfortable in the chair by the desk.

“No no— I’m not gonna make you watch anything, I didn’t even bring it,” Eli promised.  “I really was just here to deliver the book, and I figured I could say ‘hi’ and ask you how the study session went.”

Klitz sighed slightly, looking away.  Truth be told, Klitz wanted to tell Eli what happened, and he never imagined not calling his best (guy) friend first when he lost his virginity.  But he never imagined he would lose his virginity to you— okay, he actually imagined it a lot, he just never thought it was an actual possibility— and as a result now suddenly had to consider the repercussions of blabbing about it to Eli.  Wouldn't it be wrong to kiss and tell, especially considering some bad experiences you'd had in that regard?  Especially considering Eli knew you and cared about you?

“Uh, it was fine,” Klitz shrugged, “we finished the paper— and I already did mine before I got there.  Have you, uh, finished yours yet?”

“Almost,” Eli answered, “just need to figure out how to do the thing in Word that makes it all spaced right— do you know how to do that?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll show you,” Klitz offered, making a move to cross the room to his computer so he could demonstrate rather than try to explain it in words.

The thing was, while Klitz had decided he wouldn't tell Eli what happened while he was at your house, apparently fate had other plans.  When Klitz stood up just then, he didn't even feel something fall out of his pocket.

"Dude— are those panties?" Eli mumbled, pointing to the lacy black thong on the bed.  Klitz scrambled to grab it and stuff it back into his pocket, but it was too late.  "Oh my god, Klitzy— how did you end up with a thong in your pocket?"

"I-it doesn't matter," Klitz stammered, feeling his face heat up.

"How could it not matter?!" Eli sputtered.  "Who gave you those?"

"Nobody!"

"Did you take them?"

"No!"

"Are— wait," Eli stiffened up and cleared his throat, "are… those yours?"

"Are you asking me if I wear a thong?!"

"I mean… I'm gonna try not to be judgmental," Eli offered, "to each his own, right?"

"No— no!" Klitz denied.  "They're, well… I just got back from—"

"Oh, shit," Eli seemed to figure it out, "did she— did you— are you guys—"

"Something happened," Klitz offered.

"Dude, you know I'm not gonna be satisfied with that," Eli rolled his eyes.  "You don't have to tell me everything, just tell me what base you went to— first, second…?"

Klitz waited, and Eli's eyes widened.

"Third?" he continued, quieter, amazed when Klitz still said nothing.  "H-home run?!"

Slowly, Klitz nodded, and Eli yelled emphatically like he actually was at a rowdy baseball game.  "Shh!" Klitz hissed.  "My parents are downstairs!"

"Sorry, I just— I'm so happy for you, man!" Eli beamed.  "I can't believe you two finally fucked!"

“We made love to each other,” Klitz corrected, his face burning hot enough to cook an egg.

“Oh shut up, that’s gay,” Eli rolled his eyes.

“That’s gay?” Klitz repeated.  “Me, a hot-blooded American teenage boy, having sex with a beautiful girl, is gay?”

“Whatever,” Eli rolled his eyes, which was the best he could do to admit obvious defeat in an argument.  “My point is— good for you, man.”

Eli sunk his shoulders down slightly, suddenly getting a bit more serious.

"I know I mess around with you a lot.  And I know I was pretty hard on you for not going after her for so long… but it's just because I knew you'd be good together— and I knew she was into you, I just couldn't get either of you to realize it!"

"Huh," Klitz said as he narrowed his eyes, "you know, you're more perceptive than I thought, Eli."

"Tell me everything," Eli demanded.

"You just said I didn't have to tell you everything," Klitz recalled.

"I changed my mind— I need to know now," Eli decided.  "Just… tell me what it's like."

"What, sex?" Klitz wondered, sighing when Eli nodded quickly.  "Uh, well, it's sort of hard to describe…"

"People always say that," Eli rolled his eyes.

"It's… it's like," Klitz searched for the words.  "It's like a hug?  But… wet."

Eli grimaced slightly.  "That sounds kinda gross."

"But it's not," Klitz insisted, "and— and when she looks up at you it's like nobody else has ever existed.  I never really felt like a man before that."

"And you do now?" 

"Uhh, mostly," Klitz sighed.  "I'm still, you know, me."

"What did her tits feel like?" Eli grinned.

"Okay, you're done," Klitz rolled his eyes, standing up.  "Go home, show's over—"

"No, wait, come on," Eli pleaded, "just one more thing— just tell me one more thing!  Are you gonna do it again?"

"I asked her to be my girlfriend, and she said yes," Klitz smiled slightly.  "So, yeah, I really hope so."

"That's perfect," Eli announced.  "You two are gonna be so good together."

Klitz's chest warmed because, yes, you were.  Somehow he was sure of that, uncharacteristically unworried that it might all go horribly wrong.  This was you; things always went right for him where you were involved.

Thankfully, Eli respected his privacy enough to leave not too long after that, on the condition that they find time at school tomorrow to talk more about how it all happened.  The moment he had the room and house to himself again, Klitz collapsed onto his bed with a dreamy sigh, equal parts exhausted and energized— it’s a difficult feeling to describe, but he was all shaky and his head was spinning and it was euphoric.  She’s my girlfriend, he kept saying to himself until he really believed it.  Part of him was afraid to go to sleep in case the universe returned to normal tomorrow; really, he just didn’t want today to end yet.  He thought about texting or calling you, but what would he say?  Would it be too cheesy to admit he missed the sound of your voice?

Deciding to just take a much-needed shower instead, Klitz finished the rest of his nighttime routine and slipped into bed— normally, he would hope to dream of you that night, even if it left him with a sticky situation to clean up in the morning.  But now, it didn’t matter as much, because he was going to see you tomorrow and his mind was overwhelmed with the possibilities of how it might go.  Yes, a small fraction of his mind forced him to imagine that you’d pull him aside in the hall to say it was a mistake, that you two should just be friends again, but he didn’t really expect that after everything you’d said.  He couldn’t decide if he was going to kiss you as soon as he saw you, or wait for you to do it first.  Would you want to hold his hand in the hallway or be more discreet?  Would you let him take you out on a date this weekend, or were you going to be impatiently desperate again?  (Not that he was going to complain either way.)

Eventually, he realized that thinking about it was useless and that the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner tomorrow would come and he could see for himself what would happen when the two of you reunited.  But he had one more thing to do tonight before he could fall asleep: wrap those panties around his cock and jerk off to the memory of how perfect you were.

~

He did last longer next time, just like you said he would— fifteen seconds, rather than eight.  He’d even jerked off beforehand to try to increase his time but the way you looked up at him as he slid inside you, biting your lip and begging him to fill you as deep as he could go… yeah, he barely got a chance to gasp out something about how beautiful you are before he totally lost it.  In his defense, you really did your best to drive him over the edge as fast as possible.  You brought that upon yourself, really.

Then there was your genius idea to fool around in the school library, in that one section nobody ever goes to except to do this— you managed to avoid getting seen by any teachers or the security guard, but a junior did catch you two just as he was starting to reach up under your shirt.  It should’ve made you both jump away from each other and try to act casual but Klitz doubled down; he wanted every student in this school to see this, if they could— see him and his girl, because honestly, they might have to see it to believe it.

He wanted them to see that you’re so obsessed with each other you can’t even wait until school lets out; he wanted them to see that you don’t just let him touch you under your shirt, you beg him to, and moan his name when he obliges.

Admittedly, he kinda didn’t want them to see when he came in his pants from said library excursion… but whatever, you didn’t mind— you were still insisting you were into that, and he was going to stop trying to convince you otherwise.

Instead, what most of them saw was the two of you sitting closer than normal at the lunch table, his arm around your waist or your head on his shoulder.  Eli liked to tease you two about it sometimes, but thankfully for the most part he was just the same as usual.  He was pretty supportive— if anything, a little too supportive, considering he liked to ask invasive questions and even ‘jokingly’ floated the idea of a threesome, to which you ‘seriously’ agreed just to freak him out and prove he was all bark and no bite.

In a moment, all of Klitz’s most common dilemmas were gone: it was okay to be turned on by something you were wearing, and he didn’t have to hide it anymore (except to prevent you from teasing him more and giving him a problem he couldn’t solve until he got home from school); he was allowed to look at you, and hug you and kiss you, without worrying if he was being weird; he no longer tortured himself with the possibilities, the fantasies, the anxieties, and just enjoyed being your boyfriend, maybe more than anyone’s enjoyed being my boyfriend before you told him once.

Instead, he had a new dilemma: how was he going to ask you to prom?

#klitz x reader #klitz smut #klitz x you #klitz fanfic

[vodika-vibes]

hii i was hoping to request wolffe with topaz or ruby (your choice i’m good with either one!!) in winter at sunset for your follower event pls!!

Safe and Sound

Summary: You love watching the sunset, especially in the winter when the sky is painted in purples and blues. Wolffe isn’t quite so fond of it, but he loves you, so he’s there anyway.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN!Reader

Word Count: 677

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope that this is close to what you wanted. I was in the mood for some massive Wolffe fluff. The title is brought to you by the song that was playing when I started writing it, lol.

You sit on the couch in your sunroom, your gaze directed at the setting sun as you watch as the sky is painted in purples and blues. You pull your legs up to your chest, carefully making sure that the fleece blanket is covering all of you. 

Maybe you should take a picture, so you can try and replicate what you’re seeing on a canvas later-

Your head tilts to the side when the side door opens. A small smile crosses your face when Wolffe, your Wolffe, stops in the door and stomps snow off his boots.

“Welcome back,” You say in a light voice.

“Thanks,” He rips his gloves off and tosses them in a pile of winter clothes, “Kriff, it’s freezing out there.”

“Mm, the weather did say that the temperature was going to drop tonight.” You reply, “Come and sit with me?”

He glances at you, his mismatched eyes flickering over the blanket wrapped around you, and he laughs, “You know, it’s probably warmer in the main part of the house.

“I’m plenty warm here,” You counter, “And I’ll be warmer when you sit with me.”

“So bossy,” Still, Wolffe tosses the last of his winter gear to the side and walks over to you, dropping on the couch with a heavy sigh, before he tugs you onto his lap. Almost immediately, he buries his face in your neck, pressing a feather light kiss against the skin there. “Are we watching the sky again?”

“It’s pretty.” You offer.

“Mm. Seen one sunset, seen them all.” Wolffe counters, as he continues laying light kisses against your skin.

“Well, you don’t have to sit with me, Wolffe.” You point out logically as you reach up to lightly pet his hair. 

“Sure I do, wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” Wolffe’s lips curl up into a small smirk, and you yelp when his hands dip under your shirt. His hands are like ice.

“Cold!” You yelp, trying to squirm away, though his grip around you is firm, holding you in place, “Were you pushing snow around with your bare hands?” You demand, shivering as his hands drift a little higher.

“Just wanted to share the love, since you’ve done everything in your power to avoid the cold, cyare.” He pulls away from your neck and he has a mischievous little grin on his lips.

“Mean.”

“You’ll live.” Wolffe replies, as he shifts you so that you’re facing him, “There we go, now I can see that pretty face of yours.”

You pull your hands out from under the blanket and press them against his face, “Mm, well, one of us is pretty, but I think it’s you.”

“Yeah, the scar really brings out the color of my eyes.” He jokes, his eyes closing as your soft fingers lightly trail against the scar over his eye.

“There’s a reason I spend most of my time painting you, handsome.” You point out, “And it’s only a little bit because I love you.”

“Hm, and what’s the rest?”

“Because you’re gorgeous and everyone should see you like I do.” You say stubbornly.

“Everyone, huh.” Wolffe asks with a small smirk.

Your face heats, “Well. Maybe not exactly like how I see you,” You admit sheepishly.

He laughs and pulls you in for a kiss, “I love you, you know that?”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” You say with a small grin.

“Only once or twice? Well, I’m clearly neglecting you. Let me fix that.” He presses his lips against your forehead, “I love you.” His lips trail down your nose, “I love you.” Across your eyelids, “I love you. I love you.” Down your cheeks, “I love you.”

You dissolve into giggles just before his lips catch your own in a heated kiss, “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, his gaze heated.

Your lips curl up into a smile as you trail your fingers up into his curls, “Show me?”

A low chuckle falls from his lips, “Oh, cyar’ika, as though you have to ask.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 follower celebration #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[queentala]

Random small headcanons for my fav SJM men

Those are totally random thoughts I had and just kept collecting, also I'll be adding new ones when I'll come up with something. Feel free to reblog and add yours <3

I think Gavriel can draw really well, especially with pencil. Like, you know, he's a really precise and detailed guy, plus thanks to his soldier skills he has really stable hands, and it just sits right with me

Azriel loves when you paint his nails black. Also once you made him wear eyeliner and he actually really liked the results, so now from time to time he lets you do it

Aedion has his ears pierced but doesn't wear any earrings (it was probably a dare, even more likely he was drunk then)

Ruhn likes to have a small, faint lamp put on when he sleeps. It looks like a white sparkle and doesn't cast much light but having it next to his bed makes him feel somehow more safe and comfy

Also, he loves being held while sleeping. When you let him snuggle to your chest and hold him tight... It's his paradise, he can stay like this for eternity

Cassian is very ticklish (especially on feet). It's actually his secret because, come on, he's the Lord of Bloodshed, how can he be ticklish? And of course you fully respect that, not wanting his reputation to suffer, however, when it's just the two of you... Let's say Cass has to be pretty alert most times as you love to take advantage of that

Fenrys always brings you a plushie from his travels to foreign countries. Actually, he brings you many different things like jewellery, dresses, combs, mirrors, gems... everything. But a plushie, is a must. You have a whole collection of small cute stuffed animals (mostly wolves) from different parts of the world. Every one of them has a name, personality and a back story which you and Fenrys always come up with

Aedion is a horse girl. He rides so well and just loved being around those animals since he was a little boy. Often he takes you on all day long trips around Terrasen. Also he has few of his favorite horses and he spoils them so much, they're just his babies.

He also probably has like six dogs and wants to adopt every one he sees on the street

Lorcan most of the times either doesn't cuddle or is the big spoon. However, after really hard day he loves to fall asleep with his face in your breasts and his hair stroked

Sometimes when Rowan is engrossed in his work, he hums songs mindlessly

Fenrys talks in his sleep, and this goes to the point where you can literally argue with him or have a whole conversation as he's asleep

Aedion swears a lot. Gavriel doesn't swear almost ever and his face when Aedion starts throwing curses he could never imagine is just priceless

However, Gavriel knows many langues. So, whenever he's angry and finally hit his breaking point, he starts shit talking and insulting everyone in a foreign langue no one knows (just imagine him aggressively talking to himself in Spanish while walking around and throwing hands in the air lol)

Cassian always sleeps naked and refuses (will literally get offended) to do otherwise, even if there are different people sleeping in the room (read: Azriel)

Dorian baby talks to his dogs. Sometimes when he does this he forgets that he is a king and then have the whole castle talking about it for the next week (people find it adorable though. some of them at least.)

Rowan always has some blades with him. Always. Dude could be standing in the room only in his boxers and still proceed to pull out a knife from gods know where

Also, he will never admit it but he has some of his favorite blades that he had named. But if you'd ever done this he would laugh at you

Once you've gotten Ruhn a bracelet for his birthday that was a guitar pick of his favorite guitarist on a black string and from then he doesn't take it off. Ever.

We know Ruhn has this very rare and useful ability to speak in people's minds, however his favorite way to use those abilities is to make the dumbest jokes in your head in the most random moments and watch you burst out laughing around all those strangers that have no idea what is going on

GAVRIEL HAS DIMPLES

AND SO FUCKING DOES AEDION

(he also got the big d genes from him but it's the topic for other post)

So, Fenrys is a master at coming up with the weirdest nicknames for his loved one, however, no one compares to Cassian in this matter. His creativity sometimes is more than flesh and blood can bear

Lorcan is actually the biggest girl dad

Let's be honest, Dorian has better skin care than any lady in the whole sjm universe

Cassian loves being called your pretty princess

Azriel loves puzzles. And Legos! There's no better way to spend your day off than building castles and forts, and then having an actual battle between your kingdoms

Bat boys are not really fond of thunder... I think they have bad experiences with flying during storm and it haunts them to this day. They always want to be the little spoons and be cuddled when there's a storm outside

Azriel has bat slippers and Fenrys has wolf or bunny slippers

Dorian loves wearing sygnets. He has so many and you're simply obsessed with them. He's a king, he has to look decent, you know, but Dorian loves wearing them even if it's just the two of you snuggling or sitting in the library reading. Or when he fucks you and you can feel them dig into your skin when he grabs your ass..

Lorcan enjoys having his hair combed. He just melts when you do it. And if you do a little braid somewhere on his head he will keep it and wear it for the next few days

Gavriel is the best dancer you will ever meet. On the balls he can easily make everyone's attention turn to the two of you. But he also likes to dance with you in your house or chambers, where there are no people or music, and to be honest both of you like those moments much better

To be continued....

#gavriel x reader #lorcan salvaterre x reader #aedion ashryver x reader #fenrys moonbeam x reader #rowan whitethorn x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #ruhn danaan x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader

[myechoecho]

Perfect Marriage Revenge, ep 7

It gave me great joy to see Jung Wook and Yoo Ra's little stunt announcement didn't go as planned. Most of them called it out for what it was (adored the "if you go as low as them you are just like them).

Do Guk told the truth: Jung Wook's been using that lame leg as an excuse his entire life. The man has a limp and needs a cane to walk. I don't know what the leg looks like or what other lingering pain/physio it might need, but overall on the horribly disfiguring totem pole, it seems pretty low. Add in the fact that he is the eldest son of a powerful company, surely he could have found someone who accepted (or tolerated) his leg??

Jung Wook really cannot control himself. Do Guk told some truths, in an level tone and Jung Wook is the one that grabbed Do Guk. Grandma really has the power in that family.

Yi Joo probably should have held on to her temper and not said anything about not being the fake one but I love how Do Guk was like Yoo Ra is not worth engaging.

Cheering at Yi Joo turning the tables around on Jung Hye and using the same sort of tactics that Jung Hye used to do on her, forcing her to play along in front of the reporters. I'm not sure what that painting has to do with the secretary or why he wanted it but I'm enjoying what we've seen of them working together. LOL at Yi Joo teasing him how he used to stare at the painting.

I like that Yi Joo has hidden her grandfather away from Jung Hye, but I don't think that some one who supposedly has dementia and is in a home for it can make decisions about his company's shares.

The ex is such a weasel but I also see hints of him eventually breaking with Yoo Ra and maybe siding with Yi Joo. Still the nerve of him going into Do Guk and Yi Joo's home and finding the contract. (also Do Guk do you not have any security??). Grandma is the only one who seems a bit objective because she accurately points out that while the marriage contract is a bit weird, the fact that Yoo Ra and Jung Wook somehow have it and shown it to everyone is worse.

SCREAMING at the domestic scene. Yi Joo ate without a thought! The look on Do Guk's face because he automatically went to test her food and she just ate a huge bite before he could. The trust she has with him. He also tells her he's proud of her, and asks what's changed but she her only answer is to take another bite and a smile. The sex must have been real good.

What's more, she considers Do Guk's place THEIR home. Where it's safe, and she can come to heal if she's hurt. She doesn't even really realize what this means about her feelings for him. But I also love that while she's focused on her revenge, she also doesn't leave out Jung Wook and Teaja group.

Also, they are dressing Yi Joo and Do Guk in similar colours the closer they get to one another:

I adore that Do Guk laid it all out for his mom. What they did to Yi Joo and what they continue to do to Yi Joo via the staged fight and news article. His mom is so outraged by what is being done by Yi Joo's family. Do Guk begs on his knees for her help which apparently is only the second time he's asked for a favour. She refused the first time so I wonder what that is about.

Still his mom needs to see Jung Hye for herself. Jung Hye showed her through the house when she came to visit, which his mom definitely understood why. She can also tell that Jung Hye is excited for what is happening to Yi Joo. Cackling at how his mom deliberately misunderstood Jung Hye when she their son and daughter should break up. I also think it was a bit of a test which Jung Hye failed. I love how ruthless his mom was in saying that she was not going to just let others get the divorce they want. She has a stake in that marriage - Yi Joo promised to get Do Guk to come back to Teaja. Which blindsides Jung Hye but it's also something that she would understand a mother wanting/scheming about. (though Do Guk's mom is not shady or murdery).

Last thought - good for Yi Joo for doing the paternity test to confirm that she is the leigt bio daughter.

#perfect marriage revenge #kdrama

[7ndipity]

Run!BTS Halloween Pumpkin Carving Special

Ot7

Summary: Just crack headcannons about how letting them carve jack-o-lanterns is a bad idea

Warnings: overuse of the word pumpkin, not proofread,

A/N: Did anyone ask for this? No. But it’s my blog and I’m gonna post them anyway bc they make me laugh to think about.(also, I wrote this out at like one am last night, so sorry it’s a mess)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Everything starts out normal enough: the intro plays, Jimin starts the “Run!” “BANGTAN!” and everyone cheers. The normally all white soundstage is decorated with black and orange streamers, faux bats and spider webs hanging everywhere.

“Since it’s October,” The director starts to explain. “It’s September though.” Jin mumbled. “It’ll be October when this airs, shh.” Hobi shushes him. “Since it’s almost Halloween,” The director tries again. “We thought Army would enjoy seeing you display your creativity by carving and decorating pumpkins.”

They show the table covered in various carving and decorating tools, from paints and stickers to carving knives.

They give them like an hour to decorate their pumpkins, saying they’ll be giving out points for skill and originality, and the winner gets a prize(that’s probably food) before starting the clock and the carving/decorating begins.

Almost immediately, it’s a mess.

Everyone’s complaining about the pumpkin smell, Jimin and Jin have mini heart attacks watching Namjoon try to get a handle on using the carving knives, begging him to please just use the paints or smth but nope. Hobi is moreso doodling on his pumpkin with the pens, only using the knives to cut eye holes. Tae seems to be plotting some sort of tribute to an artist from the 1950s. Jimin’s just designing a lil chibi guy.

“YAH Namjoon!” Tae suddenly yells, noticing that the elder member has managed to catch his sleeve in the yellow paint Tae had been using, too busy trying not to throw up from the pumpkin smell to realize, leaving a bright trail across the table.

Jin and Jungkook start bickering over smth and end up chucking pumpkin guts at each other from opposite ends of the table.

Jimin tries to get up and move to avoid getting hit by the mess, but ends up just slip-sliding around in the debris(cut to a flashback to the same situation during the slip n slide soccer ep), before giving up and just ends up sitting on the floor behind the table.

Hobi also takes cover, hiding under the table in an attempt to shield his pumpkin and himself from the chaos.

Yoongi makes a crack about having flashbacks to military training.

Tae is just giving Jk all the guts from his own pumpkin to use as ammo against Jin, telling him to aim for the face. At this point, he and Yoongi are the only two still in their original seats, working mostly unbothered.

We then have a brief intermission as things are cleaned up.

The set is much cleaner now, there’s no more pumpkin carnage, but Jin and Jungkook’s hair is still noticeably sticky looking. It honestly feels like a miracle that there’s even finished products to see.

Joon’s is a slightly mangled mess, as if he dropped it(he did). Jimin’s looks cute, the face is slightly lopsided and one tooth is slightly chipped, thanks to the earlier chaos. Hobi’s is either super cute or unnervingly creepy. Tae’s is just a bunch of abstract shapes. Jin’s is a classic triangle face. Jungkook’s looks pretty good, and would've had more detail if he’d spent more time on it rather than fighting Jin. Yoongi’s is either super detailed like Jk’s, or is literally just three holes gouged into it to look like the OoO emoji.

(y’all can tell me who you think the winner is lol!)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow@k4ngelz

#bts headcanons #bts crack #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts incorrect quotes #incorrect bts quotes #seokjin headcanons #yoongi headcanons #hoseok headcanons #namjoon headcanons #jimin headcanons #taehyung headcanons #jungkook headcanons #7ndipity

[solecize]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐃 | 𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘.  as  you  attempt  to  claw  away  at  keeping  your  title  as  the  nation's  sweetheart  following  a  dispatch  scandal  that  put  a  pause  on  your  career  for  a  nearly  year  long  hiatus,  everyone  in  your  circle  and  your  company  seems  to  tip-toe  around  you.  you're  a  monster,  a  diva,  an  explosion  waiting  to  be  set  off.  they  go  on  to  release  the  staff  around  with  NDAs  regarding  your  dating  leak  and  hire  a  new  team  altogether  out  of  necessity.  amongst  them  is  the  straight-faced  irene,  the  quiet  stylist  with  a  mastermind  that  vows  to  help  you  in  your  return  every  step  of  the  way.  she  guides  you  through  the  next  chapter  of  your  career,  becoming  your  bravery  when  you  couldn't  be  your  own.     𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. irene x idol!reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. swearing 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 2.0k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.  this is probably the first piece of fiction i’ve written in 2 years so its a lil rough sorry lol anyway this is gonna be a short series, probably around 5 parts or so maybe less idk 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  PART 01/05.

she always asked what you were giggling about - seemingly every time she painted lip gloss across your smile, you were holding back a laugh. it was mostly to her own exasperation, as the crease that formed between her brows was supposed to show just how much harder you were making her job for her. irene didn’t actually ever mind, though. it was you, how could she? 

after returning to your group to take part in the preparations for your fourth mini album comeback, it was made evident to you that management was taking each step with caution. not in regards to your wellbeing, no, it wasn’t definitely not that. it was the way it seemed as though the world began walking on eggshells around you after your forced hiatus. it was also the way the world seemed to be constantly giving you a side eye, going over all the variants of the word ‘diva’ in their heads.

not irene, though.

since pre-debut, you were used to certain personalities from idol staff. there were all sorts - from the older, stricter company employees that scrutinized your every move, the staff that were too scared to even speak directly to you, the staff that were big fans and did everything in their power to please you. some of the long term faces that stuck by your group for the past few years had even become your friends. 

when irene came along, you nearly picked a fight with her for no reason. frustrated and on your first day back from “vacation,” you were met with the stunning irene and immediately grew territorial. who was this beautiful stranger and why was she taking up space in the middle of your trailer? she, of course, looked back at you with a blank face and proceeded to tell you to strip without any hi or introduction.

“strip,” irene commanded, as she rifled through the rack of clothes in front of her. 

her hands swiped between flashes of different shades of purple - the theme for the first couple of scenes of the music video .  you were left speechless for a second, tongue tumbling on any form of introduction, which irene had promptly skipped over. she met your eyes, making you snap out of your stutter, and her pointed look towards your left showed that your other members were already getting their video shoot clothes on.

“um, i’m y/n. what happened to cha - “

“i don’t know and i don’t really care. take off your jewelry, too.” in the middle of buttoning your jeans down, you saw that irene had quickly laid out what you would be wearing on camera. an off the shoulder lilac gingham piece that would brush against your ankles with puff sleeves, paired with freshwater pearls. it screamed sweet and loving “girl next door” all over - although, in your eyes, it was the perfect “please forgive me” look to your fanbase following the dating scandal that halted your career for multiple months. irene knew what she was doing.

you were able to get a good look at irene for the first time - or at least, the best you could with the way she moved so quickly. she was definitely around your age and definitely gave the impression of an idol herself. she was naturally beautiful, maybe one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever seen, and even in her work clothes of a simple long sleeve and jeans, irene looked like a model herself. her long black hair was pulled into a low ponytail, with a few strands of hair framing her face. you noticed her identification lanyard was decorated with hello kitty stickers.

your shoes were finally off, but you were still stunned silent. your group mate, sohye, glanced over at you with a puzzled expression. you noticed she was already in her dress and you hurriedly grabbed your own to hop your feet in. she was still staring at you, as her own stylist began doing as well. however, the latter seemed to be fighting a smirk. 

“what?”

sohye met eyes with her stylist and mirrored the same devious look. “nothing! you’re just really quiet, y/n....”

it was true. you were the fire cracker of the group, the one who’s laughter rung throughout the entire venue alone. boisterous and proud, you were made silent at the unique nature of the group’s newest staff member. this caught the attention of a few others in the room, a bit confused, as you were often the loudest voice in the room. you would at least be cracking some good-hearted jokes about your time off or practicing runs with sohye. you still weren’t sure why she was smirking at you and irene, though. 

“...met her match....”

“ladies! can we get a move on? mio, you still have to get your extensions in! bora, are you taking those pics for instagram? fantastic! and...y/n, you’re still getting your outfit on?” it was your manager, also known as the second loudest voice in the room. he seemed to take on a permanently frantic state across your group’s life span, as he dashed in the room out of nowhere, murmuring things at the appearance of his idols and scribbling things on a clipboard. 

he sighed, looking over at irene. “she’s not giving you a hard time, is she?”

“hey!”

“no, she’s been fine,” was irene’s reply, as she plugged in a curling iron on the pastel pink vanity in front of the two of you, not missing a beat. your manager looked at you, then back at irene, and simply shrugged and continued rambling about your group’s schedule for the next two hours. 

you let out a deep sigh that went unnoticed by the others in the room, except irene who raised an eyebrow at you, while simultaneously ushering you to the makeup chair. it really should have been you looking at her like that, as you were taken aback by how on her feet she was - in multiple ways. irene moved like a machine, weaving back and forth in the small space allocated to the both of you at the speed of light. she called over some assistant makeup artists to begin their work on you, as she ignored you in favour for directing the look that they were going for on you. irene was also on her feet against your group’s manager, the head honcho that typically leaves staff members unnerved. she was swift and she was direct. that was the first thing you ever noticed about her.

bora sauntered over and peered at you with a frown. “hey. why does y/n get the nicest set?” between the three other members, it was clear that bora still wasn’t over the fact that you got caught with a dating scandal. it looked bad on all of them as a group and you had apologized profusely to them for being a hinderance, but she was still showing the same level of disdain she had before. you two were never the closest in particular and now, it seemed like your friendship, or even profession relationship at  the least, was beyond repair.

you rolled your eyes at her. “go back to your own space, damn.” 

“well, you’re the one that messed up, i just don’t see why the company gave you irene. she’s the best of the best and my stylist is dressing me up like dora the explorer,” she grumbled the last part under her breath, returning her attention to her phone screen, where she was undoubtedly scrolling through social media to see what the fans were posting about her. 

it was technically your first day back. you and the girls quickly recorded your album in under a month and were thrown into the wolves that were better known as a kpop comeback. it was a record, basically unheard of in your company. however, plans changed following the scrapped debut of what was supposed to be a new boy group and a slot was left wide open for your group. everything had been a whirlwind so far and there was definitely an air of extra pressure following your hiatus, the need to prove yourself almost. it was your first day back and nearly everyone around you was giving you shit and you were exhausted. 

“it’s my first day, too. i’m taking it easy,” irene’s velvety voice chimed in out of nowhere, lowered to a volume that could only heard between the two of you, as she gently wrapped a section of hair around the curling wand, “and you should also, especially after everything.”

you were taken aback by the sudden words of wisdom, but realized fast that she was right. “you have a point, um, irene.” 

at this point, she had yet to introduce herself and you caught her name from bora, who seemed to already be acquainted with irene’s good reputation as a stylist. the name fumbled a bit off your tongue in your vulnerable state, a bit anxious for a variety of reasons. to your surprise, irene frowned a bit, which was her first display of any emotion the entire time.

“i’ll admit, i had to look into the group that i was going to work for,” irene began and you were prepared to wince at her opinion of the whole hiatus mess, “and i’ve seen you. you’re really strong-minded, why are you letting them get to you?”

“you’ve seen me?” that was the only thing you really focused on for a second, ignoring a flutter in your stomach. flattery was what you thought it was, as you wondered what irene thought of you and your talents.

this conversation was happening as you let the other two assistant makeup artists continuously flicked and dabbed with brushes and sponges on your face in silence. you noticed they didn’t even look at you in the eye, something you had seen many times before in the past. however, this time, you felt as though it wasn’t out of shyness or being starstruck. everyone had been continuously giving you a certain look after your return from hiatus and you only assumed the artists were participating in this cold-shoulder fest, between your manager to netizens to even your own group member. their opinion of you, though, wasn’t as important to you as irene’s opinion.

you caught yourself and cleared your throat. “i mean - well...i don’t know what you’re talking about.” it was a lie right through your teeth.

“chin up,” she commanded once again and you immediately did so, as she approached you with a beautiful strawberry-coloured lip pencil. 

you met her eyes as she began carefully carving out the outline of your lips with careful movements. something in you was glad that you got a new stylist and especially more so that she was in charge of you and only you. despite this feeling of welcomeness, you remained confused as to what irene was getting to.

“don’t let them give you shit,” irene replied, as she finished the last touches of your lip liner and had reached over for a matching lipgloss. she leaned over and resume her place right in front of you, still decorating your features with the gentlest of moves. 

that was the second thing you ever noticed about irene. from the moment you walked in and met her, you saw that she took absolutely no shit from anyone. that included you, your manager, and anyone else who dared. she stood her ground and did so gracefully. you were instantly envious of the way she held herself.

however, she saw that you could do the same. you smiled a bit and while irene also cracked a bit of a smile, just nearly tugging on the corner of her lips, it quickly turned into a sterner look.

“okay, but i didn’t say move. stop smiling or laughing or whatever.” 

time was ticking, as the camera crew wanted to get the good shots in before the forecasted rain began later in the afternoon. everyone was engaged in the hustle and bustle of the day ahead, but for the first time that entire day, you were able to breathe freely and smile. well, smile as much as you could until irene tsked you because you were moving and ruining her vision. this would be the first of many iconic looks that irene would craft for you for the comeback ahead. more importantly, it was the first time you became her muse and she became your rock.

#red velvet fanfic #red velvet imagine #red velvet scenarios #irene x reader #irene fanfic #irene scenarios #irene imagine #red velvet drabble #red velvet fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop series #kpop social media au #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #red velvet x reader #red velvet au

[rielzero]

Just saw your post about ascended Astarion and male Tav fanfic. I am willing to rise to the challenge

If you need any prompts! here's some concept I've danced with in my head (up for anyone to use) inspired by my own character's potential AUs. Please do not claim ownership over the ideas, I'd love to see people's different spins. Please keep it to Male Tav, there's so many Female Tav fics out there already- I had ideas specifically with a male character in mind. M x M focus is preferred. I'm not bi or pan, so anything hinting to tav being exclusively gay is nice.

THESE ARE all PROMPTS / IDEAS not demands. I'm not here to control anyone's creative progress :V

I'm just a nerd be nice

Brain Damage Tav has used the tadpole powers but refuses to become half-illitid and keeps it how it is. Tav ascends Astarion- but is convinced by Jaheira or someone else that he is incapable of feeling love now and becomes afraid of him- (Astarion still is very much capable of love) Astarion responds of course like a scorned ex, and lies through his teeth when the break up happens and breaks tav's heart. Timeskip- it is revealed Tav's altered brain still has mindflayer powers, but because of the trauma of the final fight he suffers from severe memory loss and pretty much got themselves in a position were he is dying- only for Astarion to come around and save him by turning him- then be met with guilt and over-protectiveness when he realizes Tav does not remember their time together anymore. (would work for a series, this concept is what I intend to use for an AU of my character but it would be very different.) Lots of angst but soft ascended astarion towards male tav :3 very gentle- very protective.

You were There too AU were Tav was kept by Cazador but never turned, just kept as a snack- so Astarion knows him and they may have fallen in love during that time. During the ritual Cazador threatens to replace Astarion with Tav- Astarion goes feral.

I forget you're an Urchin Playing into the fact that Astarion was a corrupted Noble- knows what luxury life is like- inspired by how my tav is an urchin and very unfamiliar with luxury- Tav is Astarion's consort- but is very awkward not knowing ANYTHING about noble life, from etiquette to wearing jewelry and fancy garbs. Wholesome stuff- Probably lots of fluff. Astarion spoiling Tav and showing him off.

Three of them AU were Gale and Astarion and Tav are a in a polycule, after ascension Astarion becomes a little overly possessive over Tav- Gale notices a bit late and feels left out, but supports his loved ones new life goals... Of world domination.

I'm married, get over it Au were male tav has an horrible ex who breaks in the mansion because he thinks tav is enslaved to Astarion- but he's not- He's just as evil as Astarion. And they're very affectionate- Astarion enjoys rubbing it into the ex's face. Extra points if the ex is a human cleric, paladin, or bard with too much facial hair. (COUGHS)

Warlock? cool Any fic that plays into the warlock theme openly for tav, not similary to Wyll- all though I don't want to restrict anyone to a specific type of patron. (my patron is a great old one) keep in mind there's warlock patrons outside of the subclasses in the bg3 game if you need inspiration. If tav's patron is female, give them a mother-son kind of bond since tav is gay.

Other, Tropes I like described vaguely cuz my brain stoopid but ideas that can be expanded into one fic or more -oh shit you're dying don't worry I can fix it with a bite -you're so beautiful I want a 100 paintings of you akjdkhgkfhgk -The gods literally made you to ruin me god damn it I should've known -tav is small / fragile looking man but he can stab you 100 times over -tav can sing, or is creative but he doesn't like sharing this side of him (loki is 100% exactly this lol) hes easily embarrassed -tav is internally panicking because he is very very very gay. -tav has scars too and is very insecure about his body. -overprotectiveness, lots of handholding keep you close kinda stuff -wholesome physical affection, does not have sexual implications even if they talk dirty or flirt silly -words being used like petite, twink- or cute in the right context. -maybe a fic focussing on tav being half elf and the struggles that come with it. Otherwise leave race up to reader. -Tav was already a vampire before they met, or is a dhampir -Astarion and tav knew each other 200 years ago -I will pet you aggressively and affectionally and you will like it -who the fuck are you drawing? wait thats me??? oh -Astarion is creative too and might doodle. -love at first sight but in denial.. cuz its funny -tav has insomnia and needs cuddles... -tav is a necromancer and familiar with vampire lore. -anything reflecting the vampire bride/groom lore in a scene. (there's a reddit post explaining this) -Vampire hunters coming after tav in attempt to hurt Astarion because he's become pretty untouchable -Vampire Tav does not want to feed on his victims because he finds that too intimite -Vampire tav is a vampire lord too- but not an ascended one- and he isn't corrupted by greed. -Astarion technically can compel Tav, but has no desire to do so and voices this openly to anyone who tries to argue Tav is a slave. -If Astarion hurts tav by accident in any way he feels horrible and will shower him in gifts or thousands of love language things just to affirm that it was an oopsie and he did not want to do that. He'd never do that willingly. -consent consent consent anything with consent- love language is consent -tav was a sex worker himself before they met but not anymore -lots of fluff stuff -scheming husbands plotting the downfall of the world together, bonus points if tav is the mastermind and a genius -Polycule with Gale, either as Triad, or Triangle -Admiring from afar, staring- lots of staring- intense consential staring -astarion beating up tav's abusers while tav sips from a chalice like a spoiled consort -dramatic vampire parties and all the normie vampire lords are scared of Astarion and his consort -vampire politics are kind of like ballroom hissing contests with fancy banquets and showing off your partner -I will go feral if someone hurts or touches you -steer clear of the consort, or the master will gut you -jealous vampire lord tries to seduce tav but tav is very loyal to astarion and not having it -astarion gets a cleric or powerful mage in his court just to revive tav if tav dies -You offended my husband? I'm setting your village on fire -Everyone thinks the consort tav is weak- but the consort might actually be more dangerous oh no -None of the above lines have to be necessarily restricted by ingame universe, can all be AU- does not have to include the whole mindflayer drama. Rule of Cool.

Avoid these please? I personally dislike that -misgendering tav (babygirl, queen, girly, strictly effeminate- any words that might demasculinize tav, as a gay man this stuff makes me really uncomfortable) -Overly describing tav's features as if they're set without leaving it open to the reader (long hair, skin color, favorite colors, etc) -Astarion knew tav when tav was still a child and Astarion was an adult. -Astarion abusing tav physically, just.. Please no. -...they're teenagers in high school... *dies* -brainwashing.. No offense to people who like some tropes I don't- You're fine :V We all have different tastes!

Headcanons for how Ascension works that you can use (inspired by ingame dialogue and such) -Tav isn't a regular spawn, but a vampire groom- He was turned differently, not buried for 2 days. Astarion can sense Tav is in danger if he is a groom, or sense strong emotions from him. -Tav is not immune to sunlight unless he stays in close range of Astarion. (based on dialogue) -Astarion might be a bit warmer to the touch since he is a living vampire now. He does not have to feed on blood- but Tav still requires blood and is cold to the touch.

Might edit this post later with more.

#bg3 #male tav #astarion x male tav #astarion x male reader #prompts #these are some of my preferences #vampire #ascended astarion #astarion bg3 #fanfiction #fanfic prompts #ideas

[littleroaes]

Boys In Cat's Clothing pt.2 (100 note special), l.jy pt.1

— how the season that comes to change, takes his life with it. Strangers that passed him by has now come to effect his own life, paint it in colors and forms outside his own framework. And when his new found friend at the bakery, and a strange girl during the setting sun, asks him about love. He desperately wants to name the sensation in his heart, and hope that Y/n will too.

PAIRING ➤ lee juyeon x fem!reader

GENRE ➤ FLUFF, cat shapeshifter!juyeon, mutual pining(as always), clingy juyeon, juyeon just want to be loved, soft angst?(fight for your love!), Eric feature, cute jealousy, happy ending

WARNINGS ➤ none, proofread once so probably missed something!

WORD COUNT ➤ 8.7 k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➤ it is here! Part two of boys in cats clothing plus three extra scenes! (The bonus scenes doesn’t have a specific timeline in their relationship) As pt.1, it isn’t much of a complicated story, just fluffy feels! Boys in cat’s clothing was my first story as littleroaes, so I took to the opportunity to celebrate it! Shoutout to @blue-rainydays and @from-izzy for cheering me on lol. I really went through it a couple of times, enjoy!

TAGGING @blue-rainydays for you my blue!!

“YOU'RE NOT TOGETHER” THE DOUGH FALLS BETWEEN THE FINGER GAPS DOWN ONTO THE SILVER COUNTER.

"Together?" Juyeon asks while he watches its color reminiscent of vanilla, fall to the center and spread from its mit. 

“Yeah?” 

The sunlight reflected in a specific window and the pattern of tiles he steps onto everyday, has become all the more familiar. At the start of his time at the bakery, he refused to go alone. Y/n woke up about an hour earlier than what the time on her squares in row told her to. It was all, just to let Juyeon out of the four walls that, at some point, crossed the line of customary and took his mind and forced it in full circles. So when she stood with him before the pink painted walls and windows from floor to ceiling, Juyeon became determined to come home and tell her everyday about his passionate way of life. 

When Juyeon for the first time in his life stepped onto the wooden floor and heard the bell chime from above. He fell another centimeter closer to Earth. Before him, centered without need of a net, a guy similar to himself(Y/n being his reference). At the time, he behind the counter reached out his arm and waved to him from across the room. Another chime goes off before Juyeon forced his arm up in a rigid manner, greeted him in a voice stale, similar to bread in the open air for two weeks. 

Y/n stood beside him, with gentle force pushing his side with her elbow. Juyeon looked down at that moment, but refuted back to his habits of scratching his nape and desperately giving Y/n his eyes curved so that every bit of sunlight passed through them.

Though, now, Juyeon has lost focus of the cream-white dot on the desk. Instead he has found interest in the youngest shirt. The highest point where the lines of his arm and shoulder meet. Fabrics and hands covered in flour. Eric’s blue gloves that  shine with snow like flour and crystal sugar, reach out for the silk ribbon tied to his neck, allusive to a spring girl in middle school, her name being First Love. Juyeon’s eyes follow Eric’s finger, to the point below his chin, and back to his face. 

“No…we’re not.” Juyeon’s lips, luscious as the green sprouts converting to rose petals in spring. To bring to touch the mark on his life. Juyeon, without gradual rendition, let his hands, painted in sugar, fall away from the ribbon without as much of an allude to the others essence. 

“Why?” He asks while Eric finds his voice and demeanor to be of the angel on the right side of his shoulder.  

”Should we be?” Juyeon, whose back falls a bit curved over the counter, shrinks even lower. All words articulated by him in this moment yearns for the youngest perspective on the world and the correct answers for the obviously wavering nature of his question. Eric abruptly loses focus on the dough again, and right as it comes out of his grip, the edge between his two fingers tear off. And the bell chimes when another colleague comes through the door. Somehow, when the colleague fades behind the door and Eric lets him wander, the bridge between their eyes is fully horizontal, with no diagonals. 

“No…?” Eric knits his eyebrows, “you two just looked like it.” 

The single corner piece that teared off, melts together with the essence without seems, when Eric starts shaping it once more. To force the cream-white fragile fragment in sphere shape, and all at once let Earth take a bit of the curve when it falls onto the tray. And Juyeon’s vision suddenly changes direction and once again, lands on his own work space. His arms hover over the counter, hands gently shape a crater-mit to watch space fill it up,  and his red apron hangs above his knees. Just as Eric's question runs through the secret corners of his mind. 

/

The curtains work as a filter for their screen to the outerworld. And how the TV radiates mellow blue shades throughout the entire room. The screen, with colors he didn’t know existed before, spread its blueprint onto the objects closest to it. 

In the beginning, Juyeon couldn’t work out the change in ambience when the curtains were down. But he knows now, the exact position of the not so bright room, and therefore the light would shine through their secluded corner, if it wasn’t for the flimsy fabric separating the two. 

On the rectangular screen, it has captured a picture of their own world and built it up with every pixel. But still, the camera shifts over the highly saturated landscape without details. With loss of this reality, their world is built with grain spots and rigid edges. The couple in this saturated world on the TV sits on a dark bench. How the camera stands in a slight high-point to capture crowns of the city beneath their feet. The camera angles itself for the audience to kindly discern the top part of her dress, most of the dull fabric is covered by her brown locks. The single shot drags on without dialog, she simply stares out over the loud space before her. Juyeon takes up his legs on the sofa, he squints his eyes and feels how that world calls him. The horizon reflects the lead's eyes, but somehow, something else, other than the city pours over them. 

Finally, the two on TV bring their hands together as the sunlight, through all hills, clouds and man made structures, illuminates them. How the Earth and Sun have fallen into position, makes the two, on the bench seem even more destined. 

Juyeon looks over towards Y/n. 

Her face has the artificial light cast up on itself. Dialog on the TV fades to whispers of weather on a windy day. The fabric of her shirt makes a stark contrast against the fabric of the couch, and her hands hold her lower legs. As the scenery on the TV passes, the entirety of his attention follows the single details of her pupils intensely dissecting the TV world. 

“Y/n?” Juyeon’s voice reaches her ears like the morning sun on a rain-covered leaf. How the smell of petrichor radiate a sense of belonging, his call compel her own existence to get a fragment of his own. 

“Hm?” She faces him. 

The words tail end somewhere in his throat and tears at the edge of his lips. Passing conversations in his new life crowds his mind. It pulsates deeply and torments the pressing surfaces. Juyeon closes his eyes. How the world becomes non-existent and the thoughts become less vivid, outlined and with colors.

At the same time, Y/n lies her eyes on his fingers. One starts to bother the left and she shifts herself closer to the full moon outside their window. And another star falls when they intertwine hands. Juyeon watches the couch mit, where their hands touch from above it. At the same time, his heart falters and it becomes a rhythm reminiscent of the clock during midnight. Y/n looks at him with immense eyes, how everything outside the four walls carrying them seize to exist. 

His eyes look at hers with a fluorescence sort of filter, complete with yearning, “Y/n, what does it mean to be ‘together’?” 

When the words leave his lips, it opens her heart as a flower visualizing the world for the first time in spring. But as it does that, Y/n force the petals to compulse, seem itself from the world like it has never existed. His eyes with curiosity refuse to leave her own. And the effect arises as her eyes change direction of the room and legs fall to the floor to touch the rug beneath them. 

While her vision casts itself in every direction, it lands on the TV screen, “It’s like them.” Y/n points at it. How the scene before them portrays them in a landscape so dull and devoid of color, but as one has their chin on their palm at the other mirror, the person over the table in their rectangular vision must be vivid of colors.

“Caring and comforting the other and receiving the same love back.” Y/n nods and looks back at Juyeon. To stare at a different world with a tilted head and let it be the answer to its questions. His eyes fall back to Y/n. In moments of understanding his new life, Juyeon wears this demeanor, similar to his true form. 

“Like us?” 

How his face sparkles in light. Another light that makes the natural shadows, highlights of the world and its fabricate stand as desolate. Juyeon’s essence is in this novel moment and her words, trapped in glass. Even when the spotlights are off and the sun has fallen under Earth, Juyeon still makes out the faint rosy pigments forming under her eyes. Just as she observes the rug beneath them and scratches her head, Juyeon’s back straightens and his arms in his lap become aligned, symmetrical to the other beside it. 

Back when he took the first step into her house and he started asking questions that had Y/n inspecting things in her own home. Juyeon genuinely believed she fell in curiosity over the details of her life. That rosy stains, abrupt silence, and eyes diverting towards the corners of the room was a language of interest in daily life. But as one kept passing the other each morning sun and he gently started through the looking glass, into the people like her. Juyeon realized that the pattern in her behavior, that the out-of-world state wasn’t a deep concentration of understanding, rather, his own life’s effect on her. 

The moment that euphoria came crashing right through him, his eyes fell and he moved closer to Y/n. Asked her with great eyes and slight forward posture if he keeps making her sick like this. If the rosyness on her face will spread to her inner self and contaminate every part of her body until she can’t breathe. Y/n got even redder by that at the time, and described with overlapping words and unclear hand motions. By somehow, Juyeon understood her colors are not a bad thing, not what they are, but it’s something positive, because of him. 

Therefore, he smiles endearingly when she faces the flower vase on the table. 

“No-I-not like us.” 

His face drops in an instant, and Y/n purse her lips in and forces her eyes closed. It all sets as a desperate and pained expression in the dark complex of the night. 

“We love each other a lot right?” She opens up her arms, “And there different types of love.” Y/n sighs before she continues, “All of them are good, and we describe them differently.“ ”‘Together’ is just not ours.” 

The atmosphere from before has shifted. The moment Y/n put an end to her sentence, a wind came opening the two windows and a cold, winter season lies over the room. Y/n’s left hand starts scratching the edge of her right nails. The distance between them seems even further, though it’s just 50 centimeters. For a moment, Y/n looks up towards him, his face speaks of someone looking out into the fading distance when the Earth’s collapsing. She bites her lip and looks away. Them on the TV, talk about love and a single sentence runs between the silence in their apartment. 

Could I be yours forever?

Y/n coughs before she stands up. The controller lies on the coffee table and reaches out for it. 

“We should sleep right, you need to work well tomorrow too.” 

Juyeon looks up from his spot on the couch beneath her. Her smile like it always is, making flowers grow in cold seasons or convert light when all the sources of the world withers. When she looks at him like that, all in this moment, an unfamiliar feeling runs through him. Sensations he can’t connect back to either his new or old life. Y/n comes closer and pet his head. 

“Let’s go to sleep.” 

Juyeon’s hand pushes his own weight off the couch, without words, he takes a step away from the warm spot. As won’t take his hand in hers, Y/n take one step closer and gently lace them. To walk towards the bed and wrap themself in fabrics. 

“Good night, Juyeon.” Y/n whispers. The yearning for an answer coats her heart as one second fabricates onto another. And when she opens her mouth to whisper it again, Juyeon returns the sentence in a voice devoid of that serene tulip feeling she gets every time he speaks. 

How the room falls in complete silence. Despite the sheet forcing warmth to cling to the abundant parts of her body, a coldness from the window pierce right through it. Y/n looks over towards Juyeon, to face nothing but his hair. As the moon motions over the sky, the right side of the matter becomes lighter. The fabric falls towards the mattress surface and he on the other side is now so small to fit on the pillow instead. 

And when the rain starts falling on their windows, Y/n can only feel that it’s her heart making motions over Earth. But despite storms and endless puddles forming on the street corners. Y/n put a bandaid on her inside, meanwhile forcing tape onto her own mouth and tie ropes on her wrist. There is a thought. That has been folded into the deepest part of her consciousness. That Juyeon’s affection, despite the adrenaline it gives her, is compatible with an innocent child confessing to their teacher. It is a part of growing up. 

/

And the sunset stands at the lower end of the sky and spreads its vivid colors over the horizon. Y/n turn away from the painting-like view and stare at Juyeon’s expression when the orange shade leaks from the horizon line and bleeds throughout the ocean. The scenery to their right as they walk past unknown conversations, and couples with knitted hands. In the other end of two directions, are painted signs, booths and hangers of clothes in shades reminiscent of the scene beside them. 

“Should we get something to eat?” Y/n looks up at Juyeon who returns the same expression with, in contrast,  a lowered head. To stand at the railing over the ocean edge as he nods. She smiles and releases his hand to walk towards the booth with a blue fabric sign and smoke escaping from the open points. Though, one step from his being, and his hands come back to her own. She looks behind her again and sees his immense eyes looking back at her as if watching disarray. Together with how his hand consoles her own like he misses it. 

“I need to buy it.” Y/n smiles. 

“Can’t I go with you.” He takes a step closer while still holding her hand. 

Y/n look at his eyes and slight pout. How the wind braids itself with his hair and takes it, but miserably fails, so it settles before his eyes. Y/n thinks of the near past, and remembers all decisions. How at this time in this space, herself one month ago would have sighed and gripped his hand a bit tighter. To secure him that there is never an empty space beside him. But as another moth went by and the moon changed its patterns, she came to think of his fragile heart and first discovery of the world around him. To let his person grow beautifully, he too should stand before Earth with his own feet. Look at its sides and discover its beauty, not her. 

Y/n shakes her head, “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” She pats his head and runs away. This time, Juyeon lets her hand escape his own. 

For a second, Juyeon looked in the opposite directions of his surroundings. Life as complex as his own passes him as if it all is nothing. The faces of the people become stranger and they all merge into one. The very real presence of others makes him shake his head and concentrate on the back of Y/n’s figure and how she stands in the queue. A bit less than a minute and the sun has fallen another centimeter towards the water, in contrast to Juyeon who has stayed in the same space she left him in. 

“Hey?” He feels a touch to the shoulder of his shirt. A girl stands beside him at the railing, staring at him with rather dull eyes. Juyeon turns behind him, but none of the people on the forever long railing turn to face her. 

“Hey?” She says again and Juyeon points at himself. 

“Yeah, you.” She nods and his eyes widens. 

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” 

The girl five centimeters beneath him wears an expression contrasting to the sun's drowned path. Juyeon watches her, who shows no emotions, therefore he slowly brings his hands closer to his chest. To break eye contact with her, his eyes yearn for the person under the smoke and thin roof. But to his heart that flows continuously and hands that grasp whatever’s familiar, she stands with her back towards him. 

“So?” Her voice overpowers the incoming wind and the waves crashing against the edge. How her body stands frozen as they’ve stared at each other, but suddenly she releases her crossed arms and motions her shoulders. His hands tightly knitted together come even closer to his chest under the sweater. When she sighs quietly, Juyeon feels a rush to bring him one meter below where his eyes fall now. To become out of reach towards human emotions and run under the nearest flower pot. 

“Yes or no?” She asks again. Juyeon’s eyes grow larger and the ends fall into a sort of curved motion. At this point, a white question mark has drawn itself over his head. 

“Are you going out? Taking her number?” She looks over her shoulder and tilts her head towards the friend again, “You think she’s cute too?” 

His eyes insist on keeping themselves open. To switch between hers and the girl’s presence underneath one tree. The two scenes start fading into one, colors leak into the other’s surface and the forms of the world become curved. Juyeon finally closes his eyes and feels the water accumulate on its end. 

“Forget it.” The girl sighs. Her white shoes hit the wood beneath them. How her hair follows the motions of her heels turning the other direction from his. 

A tension suspended to his shoulders, falters as Juyeon watches how her silhouette will falter from his vision. A bicycle passes him to grab his attention, and as it leaves the framed world, his eyes fall back on Y/n who talks with the person in white cloth behind the cart. At that moment, Juyeon’s hands let go of the other one and he takes for the first time one step closer to the other person leaving his sight. 

“Can you help me with something?” The girl turns back to Juyeon standing with one hand over his nape. 

She stays quiet for a few seconds. 

“Sure,” she sighs, “what do you want?” 

To search the world for phrases and listen to the conversations behind him, “Is that a good way to ask someone to be your girlfriend?” 

Her eyes dissect his life and his inner self. It uncomfortably tickles his shoulders and withers his height.  

“I mean…” He scratches his nape again, “what your friend did.” he clarifies. 

The silence that comes after his questions is rather painful. Despite constant talking and surrounding them, it can’t save the dying air between them. The sunset is right between tier two silhouettes, but is all but magical. 

“Yeah…” she looks at him weirdly, “I guess.” 

“Okay.” He smiles brightly, “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” The girl walks away with furrowed eyebrows. 

Juyeon, paints and sculpts the world in his mind when the friend under the tree eagerly walks towards the other one. He doesn’t see how she waves her hand before her friend’s face and turns her back onto the sea. 

When the sun has moved another centimeter down the horizon, Juyeon stands watching it falling towards its death. He hears footsteps become all the clearer from behind, and while smiling, he turns his back on the scene in order to become a background, and fully faces Y/n. In both her hands she holds a rectangular cardboard piece. The plate with its fascinating textures and worldly colors. 

“Sorry it took some time.” She hands him one of the plates and Juyeon receives it with both hands. 

“Did it go well?” 

She watches how his head lifts when he stops staring at the food in his palms. A wind comes right the moment he looks up and catches some of his hair strands. A part of her heart drowns in the sunset when he smiles after her question. Juyeon nods so that his fringe follows his motions and Y/n reach her hand out for it. She forces one strand to the left and Juyeon watches her face as she does. Thereafter, Y/n follows the patterns of his hair and comes to the highest point. Her hand gently brings the strands down to his scalp, and Juyeon closes his eyes and brings his head down to her height. 

/

“Eric?” 

The youngest at the table looks up from his phone to see Juyeon with his arms folded over the table. Those eyes, immersive and bright from the sunlight behind the store window. Juyeon is slightly leaned over the white table and Eric, naturally, forces his eyes wider to mirror Juyeon before him. 

“I need your help,” He says with seriousness. How Juyeon’s posture lean on the rest of his chair, and his eyes on a single point as if everything else has faded from him. Eric lets go of his phone fully, resting with the screen down against the white painted surface. 

“What is it?” To fully reciprocate his question, he too leans forward. Eric’s full attention lands on his friend, even when the bell from the front door chimes, he won’t look away. 

“You need to make me Y/n’s boyfriend.” 

Juyeon watches how Eric’s posture sinks in the single second those words leave his mouth. That expression, Juyeon thinks. It's all evocative to the girl from the sunset ocean. 

“Okay…?” He leans back into the chair, knitted eyebrows and a confused look towards him on the other side of the table. “Why?” Though, the question leaves his lips and his eyes observes Juyeon’s, a view of himself in bird’s eye perspective takes him off the back rest. Instead Eric leans forward again. 

“Or I guess that’s obvious,” Eric says as Juyeon looks at him with hands in his laps, “Why can’t you do it on your own?” 

Juyeon’s eyes across the table, looking at Eric himself, turned his back on God. At some point, Eric tilts his head and lifts one eyebrow. To live in the same apartment should be enough to find confidence in one's own relationship, he thinks. But as Eric finds no sympathy in Juyeon’s condition, the one with a confused way of looking at the world, earnestly shakes his head. Those eyes alone and the stare that reaches across the table, is enough to make Eric lean back again. 

“It’s not the right way.” Juyeon still shakes his head. The palm of his hands land on the plastic surface of the white table. 

Eric, once again, knits his brows and brings his arm to cross one under. 

“There’s a ‘right’ way to do it?!” 

Juyeon nods. 

Eric sighs, his head directs itself towards the ceiling. One square of the white patterns sits two centimeters off its white border. His vision falls back to where it was before, and Juyeon once again becomes the center of it. Eric lets his hands drop from the cross over his chest and he asks; 

“Okay, tell me then, what should I do?” 

His hands in his lap. How his fingers have started to fiddle with the other and Juyeon is enchanted by the motions and fabrics that follow it, “You tell her that your friend thinks she’s cute.”

Eric stares with wide eyes, lost its vigor during the ten steps the minute visor has moved on the wall behind him. Another coworker passes them by, asking them to walk over to the counter to take the next person who chimes the bell. Eric watches how, the second those words leave the person's mouth, Juyeon stands up from his seat to face him, the one that gave them order fully. How the fabric of their aprons lifts when he who has them orders turn back to the colorless door three meters away. Juyeon looks back at Eric who still hasn’t stood up. Juyeon’s arm reaches to his mid tight, and they hang awkwardly there like decorations when he asks; 

“Can you do it?” 

Eric wonders whether the older guy before him has a dating life more depressing than the rusted bench outside the window, as he sits there. Or hold some sort of romantic power, too strong and creative for his simple mind. 

“Sure, I’ll do it.” 

/

Two friends sit in the inner corner of the room, right by the pink letters on the window. How the r&b playlist paints time in this space and to Eric, who stands at the register without current purpose, each word becomes distinct despite its faint presence. Eric watches the clock on the right side of the room. How the second visor completes another round of teh silver frame, and the minute visor lands on a perfect number. Behind him is another one of their workers in white apron, but Juyeon is nowhere to be seen. And before Eric leaves the register, the clear chime of the golden bell goes off and casts itself over the bakery. 

He turns away from the backroom and sees Y/n wave at him from the white frame. A bag decorates her left shoulder and her hair in turn falls over the fabric straps. It is a slightly colder season than before, so with time, her clothes have gotten all thicker to protect the skin from the cold. Y/n comes up to the counter and greets him, similar to the birds singing when the first flowers in spring grow. The hands on the counter fall to his sides and he greets her too. 

Another second passes and the expression of spring converts into something differently. To look for the sprouts of life in mid-winter, there is nothing for her to find. Eric sees how her chin lifts to see the space behind him. 

“Where’s Juyeon?” Her eyes speak of liquid moonlight. 

“He’s getting something, outside.” Eric looks around, “He’s here soon.” 

She nods. With only the barely one meter register between them, there is a silence created when two desperately try to solve a sentence in desperation to fill time. 

“I need to ask you something.” Eric stammer. The counter surface covers the patterns drawn by his white shoes. Y/n opens her eyes a bit wider and grabs the single strap on her shoulder. Juyeon’s question runs circles in his mind. To keep reaching back towards the kitchen.

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” Eric finally says.

Her eyes widen while her arms become rigid. 

“I-that’s flattering” Y/n stammer, “but…” 

Her voice fades to silence as Eric tilts his head. Y/n continuously blinks as the side of his head desperately leans towards the left. To look at the erratic behavior, until she catches how a silhouette comes out from behind the metal. His hand on the silver side and the strands over lustrous eyes, it all that has carved itself a space in her heart. Y/n see it all, only for a second, but it is enough to understand Eric’s exact language and square demeanor. 

“Oh.” Y/n smiles and looks at Eric. He, in contrast, furrows his eyebrows and leans towards her. Seek for another soul in the room to connect over his, what Eric thinks is, love-drowned behavior. 

“Tell him to meet me outside then.” Y/n straightens her posture and walks outside. The bell goes off again and Eric is left staring at the empty spot without traces. 

The second the chime from the edge reaches the far corner of the kitchen. Juyeon comes out from the metal covering his presence. That the skin of his hands cover a significant part of the outer edge of the metal machine. Eric’s back faces Juyeon and he fully frees himself from the cover and walks up to him. 

“What did she say?” Juyeon asks, his eyes drowned in moonlight glitter. 

Eric, at the register, finally stops staring at the point Y/n departed from. 

“To meet you outside.” Eric says without any sort of surgarcoat lining between his words. As his face watches over Juyeon’s, the bright light from outside becomes uncovered by the clouds just as his lips beam.  

How the two last digits on their phones count upwards as they bring the chairs over tables and take the mop to clean off the irregular pattern over the wooden floor. The bell chimes endlessly as the workers leave the room with windows from floor to ceiling. Juyeon and Eric are the last two out of the bakery, and Eric brings the keys to the door and a low sound comes from within the door when  he turns his wrist. 

Juyeon turns away from the frame and out over the city. As the buildings ascend above the square bakery and between the towers that pierce through the atmosphere, the setting sun beams its last warmth for the day. The two of them take their step down the stairs. Only four steps or two until they reach the sidewalk concrete and wave the other goodbye. And when Juyeon sees Eric’s back face him and his shadow paints itself over the street and reaches the cars on the other side, he turns behind him.

How the tiles of the sidewalk and sunlight lead him straight to the bench where she stands. The shadow beneath her feet follows the motion of her right hand as she waves to him. For a single moment, Juyeon stands on the tiles as if they’ve forced him down onto them. But in reality, that the earth round the sun in a forever circle seems unbearable. Because, when Y/n takes a step closer towards his existence, the entire solar system could circle around her. 

“Did work go well?” Her voice is soft and familiar of daily life as she stands before him. When she looks at him attentively, he nods so that the loose fabrics around his body follow it. Soon after, Y/n take the end fabric of his sleeve and gently pull his body towards her own. Sounds of shoe surface scratching against the rough tiles reach his ears, and then, they’re letting the street guide them further down the city. 

People become faceless as they enter the immense circle in the middle of the city. Juyeon grabs onto Y/n’s arm and she looks up to see his eyes follow the paths of strangers. How they cross red light and half way through, then color turns on its spectrum and the green light illuminates the concrete. The constant pitched sound pattern grabs onto his mind and torments a part of each senses. Y/n watches how his eyes closes. Without another second between the two cars and two groups of people before them, Y/n brings the left side of his body closer to her right. By nearly running, the two of them get to the end edge of the street. 

Juyeon finally opens his eyes when a wind blows past his lids. The maze of skyscrapers, signs and music have opened up before them. And now they stand on the path dividing the capital into two. Once again, they stand by the side of the city river and soon walk where the railing paints the edge of the water. Like the couples, parents with children in neon blue padded jackets and high school friends on bicycles, they follow the railing up towards each bridge that decorates horizontally over the vertical river. 

Conversations of people without faces crosses their life and fades before they get to comprehend it. They walk past one bridge, and how the pillars underneath it shows its true massiveness. Though, as they walk there, side by side in the illuminated city center, Juyeon continuously takes glances at her beside him. 

To go through the scene in intricate detail. Count the seconds and paint the motions, Juyeon can’t find the strings attaching Eric’s help at the bakery to their moment by the river. Despite receiving his question and answering it, in what he guesses, is a positive manner, she once again is by his side without a mention of his action. Though, he thinks back on the scene during the sunset, when the girl said her friend thought he was cute. She never got beyond that. What is supposed to happen after that? he thinks. Has the universe now, with that acknowledgement at the bakery woven together their existences? Will a sensation from another world visit his dreams? 

The thoughts rushes from his mind out towards his fingers and radiate to the deepest corners of his body. Juyeon once again looks at Y/n when they come to the next bridge where three benches stand in a pattern of two meters in between. 

“Are we together now?” He asks suddenly. 

His voice binds her heart to his own, therefore, her body, with just a small measure shifts closer to his own. Y/n looks up towards him with eyes mirroring the open river and chin a bit higher as if to compare each feature under his fringe. When they walk like this, Y/n waits for his lips to imitate the crescent moon that stands before them. But instead, a midnight streak in his eyes pulsates before her and his lips slightly apart. 

“What?” She asks. 

Juyeon stops one step before her in the midst of the river path and asks again “Are we together?”

Another wind comes between them when they stand one meter away from the other. How the couples and workers walk past them without lending a lens towards the two of them in the midst of the open path. Y/n’s vision covers when the wind takes one of hair strands, and without looking away from him before her, she forces it back between her ears. 

“You need to tell me.” The words fall desperately as his fingers begin fiddling with the other. His eyebrows fall into a sort of outward motion. Another flash before the pupil pulls on her heart and forces her to breathe out. 

“I-we’re not…” She stammers. 

Juyeon’s shoulders falter even deeper. Tragic weather has taken on the single square where they stand. The continuous motions of her chest is the only part of her that can be seen from outside, as she watches how his eyes fall to her shoes. 

“It hurts me, Y/n.” He breathes, “can’t you feel it too?” 

Despite standing in the midst of the overcrowded city, a silence only at the edge of the world has fallen over it. Y/n opens her lips as if she’s about to answer him, but the silence draped over the buildings that circle them like walls, spreads like poison through her veins. To voice so much of a vowel, she’s afraid venom will falter. 

“But it’s not like that, Juyeon.” She takes a step closer, “You don’t love me.” 

The calmness of the sunset evening is gently wrapped between her fingers. And when her hand reaches out to his shoulder, it tears off in one motion and falls to the floor and withers. Juyeon backs away. The evershining in his eyes that she has come to adore, has melted off his pupils, becoming liquid starlight at the end of his eyes. 

“What should I do for you to believe me?” He finally breathes, “that I love you.”  The transparent wall suffocating them two, shatters in a single flicker as Juyeon walks out of it. Left before her is an empty space and a cold wind. She looks to the left to see his silhouette become smaller and fall in line with the bench. Her hand between sky and floor, desperately  calls for someone to take it. 

Y/n can feel something gripping at the parts of her lungs as Juyeon walks towards the bench. His silhouette is ever so small against the immense river. When her feet stand in the same position still, and another person brush shoulders against her own to get through. It too, takes onto her skin and forces a deep, cold, metal lining into her heart. Somehow, it turns to the left and Y/n can feel her own knees desperately standing still. 

When her heart aches, Y/n looks back over the beautiful scene. How in every preservation, she would want to see him in the center. She sees him like this, and the sunset falls over him as if it is their only purpose. In the midst of her existence, he has become smaller. And when standing still at the edge of the world, Y/n realize this sudden fear. That he’ll walk along the path without her, and at the end another day, he will have faded like summer when it grace to autumn. 

Y/n finally leaves the spot behind her without traces. She holds her eyes on his hair as if to make sure that every moment he’ll continue to exist. 

Juyeon looks towards her when she takes the spot beside him. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to be together.” he looks down, “Just say no.” He says while looking out over the lights in colors to form a path at midnight for those who wander, “Because, I just…want you to know that I love you.” 

When they sit by the river, his profile shows no sign of awareness of her own existence. Memories from before come back to her from every side and force itself into her heart. The scene up on the hill before the same river they’re beside now, plays behind her lens like a film from before. And when he breathes for a second time and the breeze from the water perfectly lies one strand behind the other. Y/n realizes how much he has grown. His emotions were gently wrapped in three sentences, ending in a yellow silk bow. A sort of sincerity in the golden lining threads her broken parts.

She finally smiles, when she looks at his hand that has reached out for hers. His smile that for the first time falters when he’s with her. At last, another conversation behind them fades and the world has fallen silent. 

Y/n takes his hand in hers and leans towards him with lowered head. He looks up at her through the hair strands and waits for her words to torment the deepest parts within him. 

“I love you too, Juyeon.” 

For a second, the line between the two falls in complete silence. It is this pitched sound that vibrates in the ceiling of one's ear, and it lingers there as each second passes. Though, finally Juyeon lifts his chin even a bit higher. His eyes clear as the sky curved over their heads and how the edges of his lips have formed a rose pink cradle. 

“You do?” 

Y/n nods. 

At this moment, Juyeon fully lifts his legs from the grass growing out between the tiles and crosses them over the bench. His front faces hers without a hidden feature and at last, he takes her other hand in his. And as they sit there under the falling sky, Y/n looks down onto her legs drawing circles on the gray concrete. How Juyeon sees his own life paints hers and he feels that sensation in the hidden corner of himself. 

The same feeling he recalls from their daily life. A sensation intimate with his new life takes his breath from the lowest parts within him before letting out. And his chest seems to bring him life for an eternity.  

“Can you feel it too?” Juyeon asks curiously and Y/n looks back up. 

Her eyes fall wider when he, without signs, brings his hand onto her heart protected in layers. Where the sensation mirrors his own. And an empty field without wind, Y/n watch him without motions. She looks at his eyes that concentrate on the pulsating on his palm. 

And he gasps with immense eyes, “You feel it too?” 

Y/n nods now with a smile reminiscent of his own. How the melted starlight died. But in the corner of his eyes, she sees the small shine of a newborn star. So delicate but enough to reach her own. 

And they sit there, legs over the ground and hands intertwined like the bridges beside them. Another pair of people walk past them, and Juyeon looks at her without words. Y/n tilts her head while knitting her eyebrows  with her smile. 

“What’s happening now?” He asks as he thinks of the movies playing hours on end by the TV screen. Her own mind fills in the blank spaces where two ears would perk up in union. 

She smiles even wider and Juyeon can’t seem to understand why she does so. As he tilts his head even lower and eyes grow wider, she finally leans forward. 

“This.” 

Her knees force the rest of her body up a bit higher. And her hands hold him even tighter when her lips fall on his own. Or, she overestimates the height in between them, and instead kisses the upper part of his lip, right underneath his nose. Y/n comes back down with redness from his own lips. At first, he stares at her without words. Expression the same as   before, all until his face lights up like the street lamps in every corner of their city.  

“It’s so fun kissing you.” He gasps. 

Y/n herself nearly falls onto the rest behind her, when Juyeon leans forward to press his lips against her own. She laughs and pushes him, the part of his chest right beneath the yellow ribbon. His eyes, like the city, shines up the passing darkness of the season, all while he pouts. 

“Just once.” She holds up one finger, “Once.”

_

Cat gets jealous :(

Y/n sees how his eyes move on from her own down to the spot beside her feet. She too looks down, Juyeon is brushing his head over her ankles and walks in circles around her. 

“This is Juyeon.” Y/n says. 

Her neighbor kneels down and reaches out his hand. The hand becomes all the more larger the closer he gets to Juyeon. The smell of his skin and light in his eyes. Juyeon’s fur stands up, he takes a step forward as the sharp teeth behind the soft fur shows. Juyeon’s eyes are formed like sirens and stare deeply into the man before them. 

“Juyeon.” Y/n quickly bends down and takes him in her arms. The stern tone fades into an awkward laugh before she looks down into her arms. 

“Sorry.” The man before her has gone back to the door and holds own hand, “He’s not usually like that.” Y/n smiles and looks down in her arms cupped to hold his light fur. His paws curl up under his chin and his eyes close when Juyeon can tilt his head onto her shoulder. 

“It’s okay.” He laughs, “Where is the leaking?” 

/

His hoodie falls over his shoulders like a blanket. In securing warmth from the material, he stands against Y/n’s back, watching how she cuts strawberries. The oven glistens in warm tones and it spreads over the four walls. He calls the sweet aroma from sugar and berries. 

“What is it, Juyeon?” Y/n turn her head back towards him for a second, then focus back towards the fruit. A familiar spark rushes through him when she talks to him with that high voice. He comes even closer and rests his head on her shoulder. 

“Is it something special?” He asks her. Y/n, despite looking at the plastic board and can only hear his whisper-like voice, sees his ears fold up. 

She smiles, “The plumber is coming over again.” 

The space on her shoulder becomes cold and she barely feels the edges of his shirt brush against her own. As a divider has moved between the two, Y/n looks behind her again and puts down the knife. In oversized fashion, hair strands scattered over his eyes and a small pout, Juyeon watches her attentively. Despite his disheartened demeanor and distance(distance being in juyeon’s world), Y/n laughs. 

“I need to thank him, Juyeon.”

His shoulders are still hanging low and the pout on his lips won’t go away. Y/n tilts her head and leans onto the counter.

Juyeon has circled her legs before, held her hand a bit tighter in public or strengthened his posture when someone else exchanged words with her. But when he stands before her right now, there are no walls or filters. With a yearning so transparent and a heart craving for her own, she can’t help but adore him even more. Y/n half a strawberry from behind her and walks up to his figure. Because of her motions, Juyeon’s eyes have formed from dissatisfied ones to asking questions. His own head tilts to the side and Y/n looks up at him before bringing the strawberry up to his lips. 

“Don’t sulk, Juyeon.” 

He bites down onto the strawberry and nods so that his fringe moves with it. Before bringing her attention back to the counter, Y/n reach her hand out towards the spot where his hair blossoms to all sides. 

_

Cat wants a pet name >:(

How the white curtains lie like a filter over the city during sunday morning. There are no calling responsibilities until another hour has passed them by. Y/n because of that lies with closed eyes, still under the covers. A sort of relief and satisfaction washed over her thirty minutes earlier as she thought she was late for university. But before Y/n could even throw off the sheet, Y/n felt her arm being pulled towards the bed-mit. She fell onto the pillow again and her hair scattered over the fabrics. When she took a glance to her left, she saw Juyeon with closed eyes and his soft skin up against her own. 

“It’s Sunday.” He whispered and shifted his head closer to hers, between her neck where Y/n felt him breathing deeply. 

Because of his low voice and silk skin, she could close her eyes without thoughts of dilemma grabbing her neck. Though, now the morning sun has struck her once again, and she shifts her head one step closer to the pillow, as to make sure she’s alive. Aside from the sun, there is someone else to bring warmth in the room she is in. Y/n has her face immensely close to Juyeon’s. So much that his breathing appears to move her own strands of hair. 

The clock continuously passes them by when time has stopped in the bed. Juyeon’s hair tickles her bare skin and she takes her hand to comb through his silk strands. His head falls backwards with eyes closed. In this angle, the sunlight strikes him perfectly, she thinks. 

“Y/n?” He whispers and she hums. 

To take notice how his skin shifts in pink and how his eyes open just to close as quickly. 

“What is it?” Y/n asks. 

He hesitates, “Why did you stop calling me kitten?” 

“Why?” He looks through the strands of his fringe. 

Y/n shifts away from his person, her face towards the white wall and the fabrics in a familiar shade folds over her. “It’s weird"...", she laughs. 

Juyeon won’t say anything more, or make a sound. And she conceives the way his scent intertwines with her own, that he has gone back to dreaming. But as the white paint of her wall fades from sight and her lids closes, the sheets fall a decimeter lower. The mattress shifts in weight and a sort of coldness comes from the empty spot and makes her pull the covers closer to her essence. Soon, Y/n opens her eyes as the left side of her pillow shifts closer to the morning sun and another presence in the same room affects the poi8nt below her collarbone. As it strains her body, Y/n makes a pained expression before opening her eyes and looks up.

“Juyomi?” 

He stays on her chest and takes one step after the other. To walk in circles on her upper body and sway his tail in her face. Y/n sneezes and takes her arms from under the covers and tangles within his fur. 

“Juyo?” Y/n sighs. Though, her grip around his thin body loosens as he stops turning and takes a seat on her chest. As he sits there, she references all the moments they’ve spent in  the same room staring into each otheräs eyes. Juyeon’s head won’t tilt to the left, but behind his small figure waves the tail from left to right in a slow rhythm. 

“Juyo?” Y/n says again, this time, in a tone much more playful. 

He walks even closer to her face and disappears beneath her vision. Instead, Y/n senses how his soft fur touches her neck. How Juyeon reaches his head between her chin and chest and lets the warmth of her self affect his own life. And when his face comes up to her ear, she hears faint breaths covered in white silk. 

“Okay, Juyo,” she says, “I'm tired.” 

Y/n wraps her arms around his fragile body and forces him down when she falls to the side. To look slightly down when her hair scatters over the pillow. She sees his eyes up towards hers, how the color spreads large over the white and sparks in the piercing sunlight. A second passes them by and Juyeon lets out a fragile sound before taking his head in her chest. 

Y/n  smiles how he falls blushy and gif eye contact with her in this state. Therefore, she hugs him a bit tighter before closing her eyes and falling asleep again on Sunday morning. 

_

mischievous cat :)

Y/n sits on one of the chairs at the white table. Her chin hangs over the computer as she stares at the black cursor. Though she has fallen into the digital world and nothing seems to be able to force her out of it. All at once, her shoulder falls backwards and she lets out a pained sound as a weight with cold claws lands on her shoulders. Her hands let go of the keyboard and grab the silk fur of the one higher up. 

“Juyeon, go off.” Y/n says, in which she only gets a meow for an answer. 

“Juyeon, seriously, we’ve talked about this.” 

Her words don't seem to reach him, or he doesn’t want to listen. His paws start to play with her hair and the collar of her shirt. 

“I’ll give you attention later, I need to work.” 

_

a/n: def not my best work. I promise to come back with something better! This took way to long than it should have🫠 thanks for reading💗

#deoboyznet #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon scenarios #Lee Juyeon #juyeon the boyz #the boyz #juyeon tbz #tbz #Lee Juyeon the boyz #Lee Juyeon tbz #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #the boyz fanfic #tbz fanfic #juyeon fanfic

[agaytransrat]

Happy late Halloween y’all!!🎃

I know it was like- yesterday-

But! I have some Outsiders Halloween costumes HC’s!

I did them yesterday with my lovely boyfriend of mine^^

Ok I hope yall agree with these lol

𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂: He would definitely be that one parent that just wears a Halloween shirt and that it. He wouldn’t dress up. But! I feel like he would also dress up and Superman. If Pony and Soda begged him enough to the point where he just couldn’t say no. (Tim would complement him ever chance he gets lol)

𝓢𝓸𝓭𝓪𝓟𝓸𝓹:I feel like he would have matching costumes with Steve. Like they would have matching costume every year

𝓟𝓸𝓷𝔂𝓫𝓸𝔂: Pony would definitely be a character from gone with the wind or he would have a matching costume with Johnny

𝓓𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓼: Dallas just wouldn’t dress up at all. He’d just be himself. But! I feel like he would be a cowboy for Halloween if the gang convinced him enough. Or Two-Bit would try and convince him to be a Micky Mouse character lol or! He’d paint his face with Johnny

𝓣𝔀𝓸-𝓑𝓲𝓽: And ofc Two-Bit is Micky mouse lol. I mean who else would he be? Micky or Minnie actually lol (or he’d just copy whatever Dal’s doing)

𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷𝓷𝔂: Johnny would also probably be a character from gone with the wind. Or he’d just paint his face. Or he’d be a skeleton! He’d probably just paint his face though. Matching with Dallas lol

𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓿𝓮: Steve is marching with Soda ofc❤️ like they do every year

𝓣𝓲𝓶: He’d also be like Darry. Just a Halloween shirt on. But if the gang convince him enough(and by that I mean if the gang convince Darry to dress up Darry will try and convince Tim to dress up with him) they would probably have him dress up and a some type of dog. (Darry would call him adorable ever chance he gets lol)

#i hate my existence #the outsiders #darry curtis #tim shepard #tarry #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #dallas winston #steve randle #two bit mathews #stevepop #dallas x two bit #jally

[bryce-bucher]

Midwest Lost Post #5

Stepfather:

For the past month I've been pretty busy, so I've mainly just been focusing on working on Midwest Lost whenever I have a chance. In this time I finally got the character model for the stepfather mostly complete and in the game. In this fight he is "unwinding" after work so he's ditched his pants and put on a bathrobe, but he was too dejected to change out of his work shirt. He's an abusive guy with a messy life, and he often takes his anger out on whoever he thinks he can have power over. Unlucky for the protagonist, this often means he's the target of his rage. Luckily for the protagonist, he has a big ass sword.

The Face:

For a while now I've been pretty concerned on how I am going to handle face textures in this game. I need the characters to be expressive for the various cinematics and for certain emotional beats to hit properly, but creating proper detailed faces is a bit of a wild west territory for me. Because of this, I decided to try an experiment. Recently I've been trying to learn how to paint properly using a VR painting tool called Vermillion, It's proven to be a really powerful and relaxing way to paint, so I was wondering if it would be feasible for me to paint character textures in it. At my current skill level I honestly thought it wouldn't work out at all, but surprisingly it did!

As you can see here, I spent a good 4-5 hours painting this face texture in VR. It looked pretty horrible until like the last 40 minutes of the process or so. I guess that's how its supposed to go, but it really surprised me that it came together at all.

After I got that base texture completed, I exported it and touched it up a bit to better fit the model. I then added a pair of eyes and eyebrows on top of the texture in Affinity Photo. They are a lot more cartoony / simplistic than the base texture so that I can change them out and create new expressions easily. I was honestly unsure if that would clash too hard with the painted face, but I think it looks pretty good. This was a really fun process, and It's got me excited for the amount of opportunities it has afforded me. Character creation is my favorite, but until now I really never thought I'd be able to paint the more detailed organic aspects of certain characters / animals. Oh yeah I also painted his knees in the same way lol, but I think going into detail about that would be redundant.

Heavy Attacks:

The last major thing I did recently was finally implement some heavy attacks. Rather than have separate inputs for light and heavy attacks, the attack button causes a light or heavy attack to occur based on whether or not you are currently holding the stance/strafe button. The heavy attacks I decided on are meant to be able to close in a considerable gap between you and the enemy, so that you can get in there more easily after slowly strafing around. Alternatively, you can just use heavy attacks whenever as long as you just press the strafe and attack buttons at the same time, so really they are for whenever you feel as though you can afford the wind up and cooldown of the animations. But yeah, as you can see in the gif above, the heavy attacks currently take the form of a two swing combo where you can lunge forward with the sword pointing outwards and then follow it up by swinging it back over your head and slamming it down. I think they are pretty satisfying to use as of now, but I might consider extending the combo in the future.

Conclusion:

That is all 4 today. I really want to get more work done on all of these games. I'm really tired of being stuck in the same debug scene in all of them. Hopefully this year I can dedicate more time to all this, and maybe I can make a second scene for one of them lol. Next time I post one of these it will probably be midwest lost again, but if not I'll be working on J(a)SON next. A big part of me being busy this month is that I'm actually attending GDC alongside Quinn K. If any of u mutuals out there want to meetup at GDC lmk.

#screenshotsaturday #midwest lost #midwest #lost #american midwest #midwest emo #mall goth #soulslike #dark souls #soulsborne #y2k #y2k aesthetic #indiegames #indie games #indiegamedev #indiedev #lowpoly #psx #gamedev #game development #vermillion #vermillion vr #painting #oil painting #digital painting