#why are my lines so squiggly

[donuts4evry1]

Not to point out other Vietnamese words that people tend to mispronounce, but I often hear “Banh Mi” (Pronounced something like “Bahn Me”) pronounced “bon me”

I know people are trying their best because Viet is a terrible, terrible language but it does always surprise me a little bit lol

#Vietnamese tends to be a lot more consistent when it comes to pronunciation #the vietnamese normal 'a' sounds like the a in ''action'' rather than the a in ''father'' #then of course we have the dialects but we won't talk about those #im not a big fan of a lot of viet words but banh mi is actually one of the good ones #with the accents it's spelled bánh mì which means you say the 'a' with a rising tone and the 'i' with a falling tone #so it goes up and down :) #it's also another reason why the squiggly line accent (~) is my favourite accent #you say the vowel with a falling tone and then a rising tone in quick succession #it's a little embarrassing for me to be rambling about vietnamese when i can barely speak the language but the things I do know about it ar- #-e pretty cool #i'm working up to a sort of... syncretic form of vietnamese #talking in both English and Viet in the same sentence #my mom says I speak very well but it's not enough 😭😭 #i want to at least get to a point where I can read articles in vietnamese #that being #vietnamese jellyfish wikipedia articles #like YEAH i could just use google translate but Viet is just one of those languages that never works with google translate #it's ... mehhh for nouns but god forbid you try to translate a sentence. or a paragraph #lol #mun rambles

[impostorsshow]

I saw your tag. Would this help?

OH MY GOD WHAT

YEAH I DIDNT THINK YOU WOULD ACTUALLY READ MY TAGS THAT YOUR AWESOME YOUR AMAZING !!! I can observe each frame under a microscope like it deserves

Ach actually edit everyone go to the askers Tumblr and look at them they also have a bunch of reblogs about Gaza and shit which is good [I don't reblog that stuff because I go to Tumblr to avoid the real world and not be sad but always gonna boost cool people that are helping]

#very last thing i expected to see in my inbox above a google play link #im trying to figure out how animation works so this is super helpful actually i like looking at the movement lines of the arms #and the way you made the squiggly lines at his head come together to turn into one line and then dissapear is SUPER cool #and the squigglys on the arms too i like how the arms shook them away when they reached the bottom #i never considered natural ways of making those go away in animation but you did it really well #and you can barely notice when you copied parts of previous frames over i could only really notice the head once or twice during the neow #bit but im sure theres more -ghhh im gonna look at this for an hour if i keep watching this tysm tysm tysm #talk talks #i get why people have a favorite tag now #reminder #lets just save this under all the tags im most likely to check in the future #ask

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

sink, m | jjk

you left your hair tie, battin’ those eyes by the sink, you leave ‘em behind think I know why – 'hair tie' by ØZI

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends-with-benefits going downhill thanks to shitty communication; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, heavy petting, m-masturbation, ball spanking, spit kink, breath kink, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – fuckboy?Jungkook x rock fan!reader tired of his shit XD inspired by the song above and ofc I referenced 'Too Much' ;)

--

You left your hair tie by my sink again.

Oh, shit, my bad. I’ll pick it up next time I’m over. :)

You left him on read.

Went back to brushing your teeth, looking down on the clear hair tie by your sink. It was one of those squiggly ones that were meant to not leave ceases in the hair. Not one of those that could easily be secured on the wrist. He must have taken it out right after. Well. He had needed it. You would have opened the window to get that cool night air, but Jeon Jungkook was loud when he was fucking.

Hm.

He sweat a lot when he was fucking. All over his back and chest, his skin glistening in the rainbow starlight generated by your mood lamp. You didn’t really care if the lights were on or off. He liked mood lighting, so he bought it and left it in your room so he could turn it on when he wanted to turn you on. Always tried to act all cool about it, as if you didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he hit you up. As if he actually needed to talk to you in-person about the latest installment of the Marvel universe.

Uh huh.

Somehow your back had ended up against his chest. Somehow his mouth had ended up by your neck and somehow his hand had ended up sliding under your shirt. Can’t stay too late, he always said. Same lines to the same old story. You half-scoffed into the mirror, switching sides of your teeth. The same routine, accidentally knocking the light switch, somehow knowing exactly where in your nightstand the remote for the mood lighting was, and then it was clothes on the floor. Your hand around his wrist and your hot breath by his ear, the fuck you think you’re doing?

“What? Too much?” he had replied with a smirk.

The shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

Fuck it.

The hair tie must have been because he had planned to eat you out today. Precautions. He was better at it this time than the last. It wasn’t that his black hair was excessively long. A good amount simply fell past his ears when he leaned forward and, between your thighs, it stuck when he sweat. You might have lightly complained about it last time. Jungkook was self-conscious enough to remember and pull back the upper half of his hair before showing up at your doorstep. His own damn fault since he liked to plant his hands on your ass and drag you forward into his face, strong tongue consistently and firmly pressed to your clit and looking up at you with those round dark brown eyes of his. He had been trying to tease you but you saw right through him.

“A little higher up,” you had gently prompted.

The simmering waves danced through your veins as soon as he obeyed. Your hand had eventually found the back of his head. Crowning touch and locking your hips, feeling your slickness press against his lower lip and chin. The thought of your juices smeared into his double lip rings. Your tense thighs pressed into his jaw and cheeks. His long fingers sinking into the full curve of your ass.

The ghost of imprinted fingertips lingering on your skin.

You leaned over the sink bowl and spit out foam.

Jungkook had been truly annoying about it from the start. Needed to know that he was the best you had ever had. First kiss was an accident in the way that accidents don’t really happen. The kind of accident that was you getting into his face after he called you at three twenty-four in the morning and ordering you to stay on the line so he didn’t drunkenly pass out while walking home on a night out. He had even thrown up in some poor neighbor’s flowerbed mid-walk. The next day you had gone over to his place with take-out food and an annoyed attitude, confronting him after he had groggily brushed his teeth, smelling his minty breath as you scolded him that he was too old for this shit, right next to his bathroom sink.

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes had given you this look.

And you immediately knew how this was going to play out.

The kiss was to get you off my case, he said.

But.

“But… would you do it again?”

You rinsed your mouth out and applied your lip balm.

Not seeing yourself in the mirror, but instead seeing your shocked face from back then, squeezed between his bare arms and tasting the mint of his breath, strands of his black hair against your face. You remembered the way he smelled. Like warm, crystal-clear rain. The residual notes of cologne. You had found it later on his dresser. A square glass bottle.

Calvin Klein, Euphoria for men.

Strange, you had smelled that scent on other men before but he never smelled as good as it did on Jeon Jungkook.

But he did this shit all the time. A little kiss here. A little kiss there. Loved to disappear and pop up at just the right time when you were thinking about him and suddenly you were alone with exploring hands and a smiling mouth, is it too much, and you would reply in your most unfazed tone, shut the fuck up. He would promise he wasn’t fucking around but also he wouldn’t stick around either. You didn’t chase him but also you would blow his mind every time. Like that one instance where he had thrown himself into the wall and wheezed for air after you non-stop sucked him off for three orgasms straight, only stopping because you were done swallowing.

“Fuck… How does your mouth always get me hard so fast, f-fuck…”

“Told you not to question me,” was your calm reply as you wiped your lip with the heel of your palm.

There was no way that you were going to tell Jeon Jungkook that he was driving you insane with his behavior. Maybe he really wanted you to be the one to say it. But you weren’t going to, not with his constant, too much or next time or his stupid non-accidental leaving of his hair tie by your sink. He had shirts and sweatpants left behind in your apartment, just in case. The scent of Euphoria for men lingering on your bedsheets for a few hours, but it would disappear before the morning.

Just like him.

You knew Jungkook didn’t like it that you never tried to stop him from leaving.

“If you have to go, you have to go.”

If he wanted to, he would.

You left the bathroom, holding your phone loosely.

-

Jeon Jungkook looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would let him love her the way he did.

He had a sinking feeling.

It started in the way that all accidents don’t happen. His finger hovering over her name in his contacts one too many times. More than one of those drunk times actually pressing it and then immediately ending the call. And then a single one of those extra drunk times not hanging up when she answered at the second ring. The fuck was she doing up at three in the morning anyway? His drunk brain was too over the moon to care though. His impulses uninhibited and his mouth going off before his brain could keep up.

Then promptly informing her that he needed to vomit and throwing up in some random flowerbed.

Not one of Jungkook’s best moments.

For some reason, she hadn’t completely written him off for that. Both a good thing and bad thing. A good thing because at least that didn’t disgust her. A bad thing because it made him fall in love a little harder. Then she had showed up on his doorstep the next morning with breakfast and looking like a million bucks. She looked too beautiful with tousled hair and that stern kindness. Even her lips moving as she chided him, you are not a kid anymore, you’re an adult, they looked so soft and inviting and she didn’t back away from he leaned in.

His head hurt like hell but he did it.

Her perfume was sweet and smokey and addictive.

He could still remember the feeling of her hand on his chest. Only thin white jersey separating him from those five fingertips. What are you doing? It was his fault. She put him on the spot and he couldn’t admit it fast enough. Getting you off my case. She shoved him and he laughed it off, setting a precedence that he couldn’t stop. No.

Didn’t.

“But… would you do it again?”

She had scoffed at him.

“Let’s see if you’re brave enough to meet me after dark when you’ve got a clearer head. Bye.”

There was something in that expression that dared him. Something in her body language that he couldn’t get out his head. Word on the street was don’t fuck around and find out, so Jungkook did precisely what any man would do when encountered with that information.

He fucked around and found the fuck out.

“Hey, now.”

Shit, her ass had looked so damn good in those black leather pants.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, punk?”

He had never met a better tongue. And her breath. He had begged her to breathe on him before. Hot and heavy like his heart, over his neck and chest and down his abs, warming the line of spit made by her wicked tongue. Unseen marks that stayed in his mind when he closed his eyes, looking down to her sensual stare, locking eyes with him as her tongue curled around the swollen head of his cock. Didn’t even need to look. So fucking hot. There was magic in that mouth. He never knew what to expect next but it was always exactly what he wanted. Soft and tight. Rough and deep. Warm tongue that curled around his girth and pressed him into the ridges, driving him insane with the sensations and the pressure.

If he had ever wanted anyone else, he had already forgot about them.

Jungkook refused to believe that she fucked anyone but him with that kind of vigor. She would place her palms on the headboard and ram her hips into him like he owed her goddamn rent. Pussy squeezing him all around. Dripping down his balls, sticking to his inner thighs. She would throw her hair back and grin after she blew his mind, sure, I can go again, like it was no big deal even though his chest was about to burst. He must be special.

Right?

He had brought a hair tie with him last night so his hair would stop sticking to his face.

He needed a haircut.

It made him so mad that she wouldn’t take the bait. She would corner him before he had his trap set and then he would balk under her stare, lips to lips to avoid saying anything. Hand to skin. Lips to his jaw, tongue playing with his earrings.

He just didn’t know.

Jungkook rolled in his bed, wishing it was her body beside his.

Stay away. She was a nightmare dressed like a daydream, everyone said. Road to ruin, everyone said. He didn’t care about that shit but he could feel the distance. Even between naked bodies and tongue to tongue, Jungkook got the feeling that she was never going to need him and that pissed him off. Was that stubbornness? Yeah. But wasn’t she being stubborn too by not giving in to what was so clearly there?

He had pulled the hair tie out and put it by the faucet, rinsing off his face to clear his head.

I’m not gonna stay if she doesn’t make me, he had said to himself, using her soft white hand towel to wipe his face. Looked at himself in the mirror and remembered that morning when she had come up behind him, yanking his shoulder and telling him he was too old for this shit. He wished she had done the same thing to him last night too.

But she hadn’t.

The sinking feeling persisted.

He texted back and he would get the hair tie next time. Next time. But she was pulling away and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like it. It made him irritated. It made him think he didn’t need this. It made him think he didn’t want anyone else because he was addicted to her now.

And.

It made him sad.

He looked to see if she had replied and of course she hadn’t. Reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside with a click of his tongue. Needed a shower. Needed to wash her memory off his mind. Maybe make an effort to call his friends and go out tonight.

Jungkook got up from his bed, holding onto his phone.

-

People were scared to be messy these days. But not you. The world was always going to be chaos. The only way to be in control of it was to be at the center.

Or start it.

You liked to be alone and you liked to be alone amongst people. The kind of feeling most people dreaded. You slid in deeper, deeper into the crowd, caged by body heat and bated breath. The world was darkness alight with neon points. The thundering bass traveling up from the floor seized the heart, threatening to stop it. A steady, continuous beat before the chaos. The other audience members where whispering amongst themselves in the dark. And there you were, standing in the vacuum of space surrounded by universes abound, and you the black hole, catching bits and pieces of their excited conversations, passively devouring in their palpable anticipation.

The music started.

The mosh pit came alive.

You had earplugs to prevent permanent damage for your dangerous pastime. Drums and guitar and guttural vocals. Bodies on the floor and leaning up against yours, even jostling you, but you paid it no mind, licking your teeth and letting the vicious, subline energy burn through you. It was hard to think about anything else. The band was alternative rock but they occasionally covered heavier songs live which was a real treat for your nostalgia.

A phase you never grew out of, heh.

You headbanged along and thankfully the hair tie kept the majority of your hair away from your face.

Not that it would have really mattered here. The concert was a psychedelic and everyone here was under the influence, lost in their own high, too deep into each song, reliving old memories and creating new ones. No one would care if you were sweaty. Everyone was sweating. Still, even with the mesh cutouts on the thighs, you probably shouldn’t have worn these leather pants. Now it was becoming disturbingly hot and you were really hoping adrenaline could make you forget about it. At least you had opted for a mesh long-sleeve shirt and loose crop top with the band’s logo on your upper half. Plus, you learned from last time – a skimpy black swimsuit top under instead of a bra.

Moisture-wicking, check.

“Nice jewelry.”

“Thanks,” was your quick reply between songs. They were talking about your tangle of silver bracelets and chain necklaces, you assumed. You did not really want to engage anyone too much. Rock bands tended to attract a lot of unsavory men. You never knew who you were amongst unless you trusted too much, so it was better to be distant and vigilant.

You tensed during the interlude as the band took a break.

“Are you by yourself? Me too.”

It was years of unfortunate experience that made you relax, because now you could tell the difference between someone you could hurt and someone that could hurt you. You didn’t check your phone when it vibrated while you spoke to the man who approached you. You could feel it and your cardholder practically glued to your hip in these tight leather pants. You weren’t going to get pickpocketed without a fight. But that wasn’t what this was. The guy was calm. Young face with an oddly wise aura. Seemed a little nervous. He was cute in a shy way.

Reminded you of someone.

Intimidating with his broad shoulders and all-black fit. Black hair swept over his forehead and soft dark eyes so large that they reminded you of boba pearls. You got him to smile easily. He had a brilliant, stunning smile. Apparently, he was supposed to meet a date and they flaked on him. It could have been a fabricated story, but he seemed genuine in the way he described it. Since he had already paid, he had decided to stick around. Noticed you because, unlike everyone else tightly packed in their groups, you thrashed alone. He said he was surprised that you had come alone. Even more surprised when you clarified that you had wanted to come alone.

“Well, big bad lone wolves like me can protect timid chipmunks like you, hm?” you joked.

After all, the world didn’t stop revolving just because Jeon Jungkook didn’t try hard enough.

That made him laugh and you let him enjoy the night with you. Even without knowing someone deeply, there was just something about enjoying music together that was its own intense experience. Bonded by bass and beating hearts, by the winded lightheadedness of whipping your heads too hard, by melodies that reminded you of darker times that made you stronger now, strong enough to be alone and casually with another, impulsively letting this strange wrap his arms around your legs and lift you so you could blow your lungs out and go hoarse during the last song.

You didn’t even feel your phone vibrate again because the bass was too fucking intense.

You bounced off that broad shoulder as the lights went down, laughing manically, electricity still simmering in your veins.

“I always wanted to do that.”

“Glad I could help,” the handsome stranger was chuckling. “You’re insane.”

It was, and you took it as such, a compliment.

You didn’t see Jeon Jungkook’s double text until you pulled out your phone to get this guy’s number.

Hey.

I see you.

A strange feeling. But you did as you intended and broke away, not lingering as the rest of the crowd filed out. You weren’t sure if this annoyed new guy, and at the moment you didn’t really care. Life, after all, was not a fairy tale. You wouldn’t have linked up tonight anyway, with or without Jungkook’s texts. The concert had been set in was a small venue next to a bar. People were either going through the side door or through the bar to keep the night going. You also followed towards the bar because you needed to get to the main street to get to the train.

If Jungkook had seen you, he must have brought tickets as well.

You hadn’t thought to even ask him.

You texted back.

You still see me?

Yeah.

You raised your eyebrows at the immediate answer, breaking out the crowd and moving towards the wall. You didn’t, however, look up. You weren’t about to give that satisfaction. Checked the time and the train schedule. Hm. You debated on whether or not to entertain this bullshit.

You look really good. Love your hair like that.

It took effort to not roll your eyes. Thing is, he could just approach you right now. The crowd was thinning out, but you ignored everybody and stayed glued to your phone. The only reason he wasn’t, then, was because he must be with others, which meant for some reason he didn’t want them to know that he was talking to you right now.

And.

That shit really pissed you off.

You cocked an eyebrow.

Come get your hair tie.

One of those times where you actually wanted to be left on read.

But he disappointed you.

Your place or mine?

You stuck your tongue in your cheek and dropped your hand, shoving your phone into your leather pants. Didn’t bother looking around. Just started walking out the door, thinking about the fastest route to the train station. Huh. Twenty-first century and Jeon Jungkook was out here thinking only guys like him could be fuckboys. You pushed through the smoked glass, out into the cool night and bustling street lit up with streetlamps and neon signs. Maybe you should have followed that stranger tonight. No. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t right. You shook your head at no one, whipping your hair about your shoulders, and began your brisk walk, Jeon Jungkook on your brain.

Fucking idiot.

-

He realized it too late.

The top of her hair had been pulled back, half-up, half-down, with wisps of bangs around her face, and he recognized those black leather pants, damn, her ass looks so good, and then he still didn’t get it as her shoulders slumped. She completely ignored his reply, walking out instead.

Ten minutes and then it hit him.

Come get your hair tie.

Fuck.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go.”

“What? Why? Did something happen?”

“Yup, bye.”

“Yah, Jeon–”

He didn’t even wait to hear his name being called, instead jumping over the chairs in haste and one beat away from running, just now realizing how fucking stupid he was. His heart fluttering as he knew a little piece of him was with her, but he was also mad. One of his friends had suggested the concert thing earlier tonight, and they had arrived late, staying in the back with their beers and enjoying the music. It had been a small, dark venue, but it suited the band and their heavy sound. Jungkook thought he had been going a little crazy, thinking about her all night with a drink in his hand, so crazy that he thought he had seen her silhouette towards the front. Thought he recognized that flying hair and rocking shoulders, but, no way, right? Then that same girl was lifted onto a shoulder and bouncing with her hand held high.

Devil horns and everything.

Whoever it was tipped her head back and Jungkook swore he recognized that back and those body proportions. Then her hoarse voice entered the meld of screams and instruments and boosted bass.

And he knew.

She was with someone.

Someone that wasn’t him.

He wanted to remind her. Remind her it was him that held her last night, remind her it was his mouth between her legs and his hands on her ass, but mostly he just wanted to remind himself. He wanted to know who it was that she was with but she had emerged from the doors alone. Weird. It made him feel a little better though. Selfish, Jungkook knew, but so he was. He had stayed were he was, at a table with his friends, out of her sight, but she didn’t even look up. Really. She was willing to make him feel all kinds of fucked up and not willing to even look the fuck up.

Okay.

Come get your hair tie.

Yeah, okay. Okay, she wanted to use him. Fine. Fine, he was cool with that. But she left him on read. In fact, he watched her not look back and leave. Wow. And then it hit him and now he was running in the night, past flooding pools of light and wishing to catch a glimpse of mesh sleeves or black leather pants or even those heavy black boots with silver metal heel. Now he was throwing himself onto the train and trying to remember which one was her stop, wondering why he didn’t see the invitation for what it was. Now time was a thief stealing away the perfect moment and he was chastising himself for not chasing that feeling that he wasn’t so sure about.

-

You pulled the clear hair tie out of your ponytail. The squiggly kind that was meant not to leave ceases in the hair. The strands still ended up wild from the headbanging and the windy night. You ran your fingers through it haphazardly, annoyed when your fingers caught a snag. Scowling at your bathroom mirror as you untangled the strands and wondered why the fuck you ever let Jeon Jungkook get in your brain and drive you insane.

Fuck it.

Fuck him.

Your body was still on a high from the concert. Nerves alight, senses simulated, emotions caught in a rollercoaster. You yanked your clear earplugs out and cleaned them off in your bathroom sink, patting them dry with your hand towel and leaving them next to the hair tie.

You looked down at it.

Should throw it away.

Your hand reached out and then there were three loud thumps at your apartment door.

You jerked and backtracked, surrounded by no light except for the one from the bathroom. It was a short walk. You had to step past your heavy black boots, careful not to stub your toe on the metal heel, and peered through the peephole, seeing a large dark brown eyeball because Jeon Jungkook was too damn close to your door.

You yanked it open.

“The fuck–”

And froze.

He was panting, slightly hunched over. Wearing a black racer jacket with white stripes. It lay half off one shoulder, exposing the black tank top underneath and a peek of his right arm tattoos. Slate blue jeans with slight rips on one knee and black boots, but none of that made you stop and stare, not even his furrowed brow and annoyed expression.

“You cut your hair,” you beathed.

It was fresh. Sides cut short, with the top layer long enough to touch his brows. Currently half swept back, probably from running around. A few strands fell by his dark eyes, additional shadows to this harrowed tension. You backed up. He stepped in, one hand catching the doorframe.

Jungkook glared at you and you felt none of that fake frostiness.

“Yeah, I had a hair appointment today,” he huffed. “I didn’t come for the damn hair tie.”

It was all piling together. The moments of hands around each other’s waist, around his wrist, around his hard cock with his low voice in your ear. Don’t stop. The things unsaid and not said. The nights with him and the mornings without him. Backing away from Calvin Klein’s Euphoria still clinging to your sheets. Alone. The music of your youth, hard and rough and full of anger. The strength of a stranger and the cold air of the night, and suddenly you felt alive, alive and needing answers and fucking pissed off at all the shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

You let him in your apartment, but not in your space.

“How did you know where I was going to be?” you accused.

The door fell shut.

Jungkook cocked his head. Dark eyes finding yours, cornering you with his gaze. You locked stares and did not back down. “Where else you gonna go but home?” he shot back.

You narrowed your own eyes and didn’t bite your tongue.

“How would a guy like you know what home even means?”

-

Goddamn, the one always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

He stopped moving forward.

But his heart was racing fast, remembering all the moments piling together. Lips to lips, hips to hips, and how tightly she held him, as if she wasn’t going to let him go. Not falling for any of the traps he set but drawing him closer and closer each time with that look in her eyes. Alone. Trying to forget how it felt to be held by her even through it was the most secure he had ever been.

Thinking about it now, maybe too much.

His voice wavered in the darkness between them.

“But, would you do it again?”

She paused at his question. Those eyes seemed a little less shadowy, a little less space between them but only for this second. Kept her hands by her sides though, not reaching out to him.

“How much of this was a lie?” she quietly asked.

He answered honestly.

“None of it.”

She scrutinized him. He stayed an open book. Mostly because he didn’t know any other way to cover up except run, can’t stay too late, didn’t know what was the right thing to do when clearly he had done so much wrong, didn’t know how this was going to end but Jungkook damn well knew this was gonna fuck him up for his whole life.

Silence.

That sinking feeling.

“You have time to spend?” she finally asked.

-

“Yeah.”

Must be a dream.

You closed the distance, trying to stay awake, watching his eyes. Waiting for Jungkook to run, as he did so many times before. He always had somewhere to be that wasn’t here. Following his dark brown eyes, the memory of his taste on your tongue, breathing in the clean scent of Euphoria, closer, body heat radiating off him, and Jungkook bit his lip, causing the two silver lip rings to catch what little light there was, like punctured stars in the darkness between you and him.

His lashes lowered.

You looked at him, unfazed.

Raised your hand.

Placed five fingertips on his black top. Thin jersey fabric between skin to skin, and you walked them up his chest, staring into the windows of his soul to find the truth. Your lips formed his name, but made no sound. His own followed suit, breathing your name under a tense exhale, not yet moving, shivering as your middle finger traced his chain necklace.

“You never have time to spend,” you murmured, your breath against his jaw.

He lowered his head, gaze flickering away. Then back, mumbling even though he meant it.

“I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

Opened your mouth to chastise him, but all that came out was an exasperated chuckle.

“Don’t do it again.”

You pressed your lips against his.

Jungkook stole your breath and sank into you.

Your hand pressed into his chest and his arms slid around your waist. His fingers splayed out under your crop top, pressing the slinky micro-mesh against your skin and sending a tingling sensation up your spine. He tasted like haste and hunger. Warmth spreading out, squeezing your torso between leather-covered arms, gasping when your tongue flickered against his lips. Slow. Teasing. Dragging it out. Your other hand slid under his jacket, grasping the small of his waist and digging your nails in. He winced, a small whimper, then tried to cover it up by pulling back slightly, but your tongue remained, sliding out further between his open lips.

Your eyes cracked open to see Jungkook’s lashes flutter, his hot moan warming your lips.

“F… Fuck…”

Your tongue retreated.

Exhaled, giving it the weight that made it drift over his neck and chin. He sucked in a sharp inhale, opening his eyes too. A stand-off. His thighs pressed against your thighs. His erection was straining, even in his jeans. You traced your tongue around the perimeter of your lips, seeing him track the movement with bated breath, smiling slightly as his cock twitched.

He narrowed his eyes. “Can you not?”

You cocked one shoulder, smirking with the tip of your tongue at the edge of your teeth. “Why?”

The faintest of eye rolls. “You don’t suck my dick unless I shower first. And I haven’t showered yet.”

“That really sucks,” you hummed.

With just the correct about of intonation hat you had no sympathy. Especially since your hand was sliding over his ass to follow the line of his hip and then further down, hooking your thumb over the waistband of his jeans and molding your other four fingers around the unforgiving bulge. You heard him bite back a sound, pressing his biceps against you in warning, but you merely smiled, leaning forward to graze your lips against his cheek and jaw.

His cock pulsed strongly in your grip as you whispered into his ear.

Low and hot.

“That really sucks.”

Jungkook made a noise between a whimper and a growl.

But you didn’t care, pressing your breasts against his muscular chest. You knew he could feel your lack of bra through the layers of fabric, the confusion spreading over his facial features as you backed up. There was something there, his brain was working that out, but the swimsuit fabric was thin and your hard nipples were large enough for him to barely feel if he really flexed his pecs.

You unbuttoned his jeans.

He didn’t stop you because he would be crazy to.

The tension so tight that neither of you were breathing.

You grinned.

And yanked his underwear and jeans down at the same time.

You probably wouldn’t have tried this shit if it was someone else. Jungkook was habitual creature. The kind where he kept a small tube of hand sanitizer on him at all times, and you would catch him using it all the time, so absentmindedly that it seemed to have become second nature. He would do it after getting off the train. Walking aimlessly. Standing at your front door as you opened it, rubbing his hands together and directly looking at you, cocking an eyebrow.

The first time you noticed this action you thought he was being a creep before you realized it was hand sanitizer he was putting back into his pocket. He was not, in fact, imitating eccentric cartoon villain behavior. Had you in the first half, not gonna lie.

“What?”

It had been a pointed what at that time.

This time it was a sexually charged and gravelly, “What…?”

You squatted down and took his right hand, turning it palm up. Opened your mouth and drenched saliva all over his palm and fingers, the clean citrus scent of his hand sanitizer hitting your nose, hearing him hiss and feeling him tense. The tendons of his wrist stood out, black ink of his tattoos creeping out under the sleeve of the leather jacket. Your tongue lingered against the texture of his calluses along the top of his palm.

Guess he had been working out his frustrations.

“F-Fuck!”

You wrapped his spit-covered hand around his stiff length. Instinct and arousal and the slippery, tight, pleasurable sensation beat out any protest he had about what was happening, firmly and quickly jacking himself off right in front of your face. You calmly watched the glossy, swollen head pop in and out between his tightened fingers. All colors were desaturated due to the dark apartment. Didn’t matter. You had seen it enough times to know what he looked like.

You looked up.

Jungkook was looking down, gasping, the visible strain making his shoulders tremble. Jaw clenched, dark irises glassy, you’re so fucking pretty, shit, and you stuck out your tongue, enjoying the power. He shuddered, gripping himself tighter. Using your left hand, you hooked a thumb under the hem of your shirts, pushing them up, up, over your barely-covered breasts, revealing your hard nipples straining against the tiny black bikini top.

Those large brown eyes went wide, his lips parting.

“Oh, fuck…”

You used your right hand to shove the thin fabric away, scooping your breasts closer together to give him a good view, securing your left hand against your shoulder, easily holding the bunched-up fabric. Grinned, not hiding how pleased you were at his reaction. You lowered your right knee to the ground, stabilizing yourself.

And, now that your right hand was free, you reached forward and smacked his balls.

His black hair whipped in the air as his head snapped back, moaning sharply at the sudden impact. You slapped them again, and again. It was slightly slick from your own spit. Fast and firm. Not hard, since Jungkook hadn’t quite expressed the level he wanted yet, but then his head fell forward, erratic gasps and pupils blown out, squeezing the head of his cock hard, his entire body shaking.

“Harder,” he groaned out, depraved and deep.

You did as you were told, smacking harder and spreading out the hit over the entire area, keeping yourself exposed for him.

“Fuck… f-fuck…”

It was loud, lewd, and wet. His hand moving fast, and your fingertips repeatedly punishing his balls, his hips shaking in ecstasy. The scent of sex mixing with his crisp cologne, deliciously dirtying it. He turned his hand so it was palm up, knuckles down. You spat on his closed fingers and Jungkook moaned even louder, tipping his head back, sweat glistening along his throat.

Spit dripping down.

A bit of a mess, truly.

His head snapped back, fucked-out gaze, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Can… Can you breathe on me…?”

You leaned forward and parted your lips. Keeping eye contact, sliding your tongue out, and exhaled. Slow, heavy, saturated with warmth, leisurely drifting over his fast, tight grip on his hard cock. His eyes squeezed shut, drawn-out groan thundering in his chest. You did it again and his eyes opened, rolling back slightly, his lashes fluttering. You increased the pressure on his balls. The sharp smacks getting louder, wet thrusts, sensual sighs mixing with his desperate whine, and Jungkook tipped his hips down, fixated on watching himself cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

Hot, thick streaks.

You tilted your head back, drinking his orgasm down as you locked eyes with him, electric bliss simmering through your veins. His short black hair was damp with sweat. The strange feeling came back again, somewhere between a dream and reality, yet unmistakable clarity.

Fuck.

You were both sinking.

Shit.

-

“Don’t stop.”

To be honest, Jungkook didn’t like missionary for the sheer reason that she was too damn powerful in this position. Face too damn pretty. Tits too damn perfect. Legs on his shoulders letting him get too damn deep, soft thighs against his hard abs, pussy clenching around every centimeter of his length and not letting up, her hips smacking up every time he thrust down. Okay. It just felt too fucking good. It was a damn problem. He had to grind his teeth and fuck hard so he could slow down and not cum too fast. One would think the second orgasm would be difficult to reach, but one would be fucking wrong. His was rock-hard once she was naked and even harder when she dipped her fingers into her wet pussy to smear her juices over the throbbing head of his cock before he rolled the condom down.

“Are you a virgin or what – fuck!”

She was giving him that smug smirk of hers.

It both pissed him off and made him so damn happy.

A bitch faking it would be imitating shitty porn right now. That was why he never did missionary with any other women before her. It just made him limp. Better it hit it from the back and not have to look at their faces.

God, she was so fucking pretty.

“Always a virgin, only for you,” she snickered.

“I feel so fucking special,” Jungkook growled back, emphasizing each word by pounding her into the mattress.

He did, though.

Somewhere between dream and reality. That strange feeling as he watched her hands grip her pillows, her features softening as she fell into the pleasure, smacking her hips into his, their breathless moans blending together, primal harmony, and he knew he was well and truly fucked because instead of only drowning in the physical sensations of shoving his cock into that tight, wet hole, Jungkook was thinking about how he would wake up and bury his face in her hair the next morning, inhaling the scent of her sweet and smokey perfume, hoping other people could smell her on him, thinking about how lovely it would be to look over and see those eyes roaming over his face, every day and every night.

Well.

Shit.

She clenched around him particularly hard and Jungkook snapped out of his daydream.

Back into his lustful nightdream.

“Harder,” she hissed out, narrowing her eyes.

He was going to gasp, fuck you, but he was doing that already and there was no time to think because she sank lower into the mattress, angling her hips ever-so-slightly, and it was so deep, so good, so tight, losing his mind. Sweat dripping down his chest. He tucked his head back, trying not to get it all over her, bending his elbows and locking his muscles, driving his back and hips into his thrust, bending her in half and neither of them could breathe, closer, clawing up to the high, fast and intense and coiling tight in his chest, sinking down, down, deep down.

Airless.

His orgasm crashed into him so hard that his arms almost gave out.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

He was sure that the noise that came out of him was not one he wanted to be self aware of. Something between a choked groan and whining moan, lost in the pulsating walls shivering against his jerking cock, wave after wave burning through him. The high seared him like electricity and the aftermath was layers of sparks building over his skin, tingling nerves and forgetting about anything else, suspended in this feeling.

Then his muscles screamed from fatigue and Jungkook realized his back was alarmingly sweaty.

“A… ah, hah…”

She plucked the white hand towel from her nightstand and flung it over his shoulder, falling back into the pillows and gasping.

He was in the middles of wiping his face before he realized that she didn’t have a towel there the first time he came over. But a towel was always there every other time he had showed up after. Either white or dark gray. Always fluffy. He looked down. Her eyes were closed, her pants slowing down to heavy breaths. She hadn’t been looking at him during his epiphany.

She smacked his arm for a second time before he realized she was trying to get his attention.

“Put my legs down, damn…”

“Oh, shit, right…”

It took him a moment to untangle himself. She went to the bathroom, as she usually did. Their clothes were all over the floor. Leather pants. Mesh shirt. The bathing suit top. Panties. His tank top. Black boxer briefs. His jacket and jeans were out there somewhere in the hall outside the bedroom. He noticed a pair of folded gray sweatpants and white shirt sitting on the corner of her room, randomly atop a low bookshelf. He had put them there a week ago. Just in case. She hadn’t moved it.

Jungkook breathed out.

He patted his temple.

I’m in idiot.

Then vigorously dried his hair.

The feeling came back when it was his turn to clean up in the bathroom and he saw his clear hair tie by her sink. A little tangled up from use, next to a pair of clear earplugs. He should probably check his phone and tell his friends that he was fine, but it was somewhere out there in his jeans and Jungkook wasn’t going to go hunting for it right now.

He went back to the bedroom.

Damn, she was so stunning even simply lying in bed. Her gray duvet was only covering her lower half, her forearm draped over her eyes. Amazing breasts. He took a moment to ogle them, perfect nipples and all.

“Stop staring at my tits.”

Well, shit.

She raised her arm and cocked her eyebrow at him.

Not saying anything, but the message came across quite clear.

Jungkook draped the hand towel over his shoulder and picked up the gray sweatpants from the bookshelf, yanking them over his legs before looking up again. Those shadowed eyes were watching him carefully. Surprise but not quite believing. He left the t-shirt and dropped the towel onto the floor, walking over to the other side of the bed and throwing himself down onto the mattress, making her body bounce.

Side eye.

“What?”

He shrugged.

“I’m tired.”

She frowned at him.

“Oh, yeah?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

He used his elbows to scoot himself to the pillows, resting his chin on the backs of his hands to look down at her. Her eyes followed the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Down and then up. Observing his facial expression carefully.

“Can’t stay too late?” she whispered. Somewhere between a taunt and weariness.

It broke his heart a little, hearing his own words said back to him. He moved one hand and lifted her forearm from her brows, seeing more of her face now. The mood lighting was still on. Points of color dancing over the ceiling above them. They reflected in her eyes even as she faced him.

Jungkook could smell her perfume, soft and sweet and not yet clinging to his skin.

“Can I stay the night?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And why would you wanna to that?”

He shrugged, realizing now that it had never been a no.

“Boyfriends stay over at their girlfriends’ places sometimes. Free breakfast.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

“The shit you pull, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned down. Had to fight for the kiss. Hands on wrists. His chest pressed against her breasts. When their lips touched, he could feel her smiling, so Jungkook smiled too and kissed her deeply.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets - Epilogue

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support throughout the story my darlings! I hope you enjoy the epilogue as well, ILYSM! ❤️

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Thank you to @theskytraveler for helping me with the story and the chapter!

Series Masterlist

3 YEARS LATER

“And this flower right here is called a mock orange, any idea why?”

The cheerful babbling was the only answer you got and you felt yourself smiling wide, turning to look at her better. Camellia was the cutest baby you’d ever seen and you were pretty sure it wasn’t just because she was the most perfect combination of you and Benedict. The only person in your life that remembered you as a baby was Josie, and she swore up and down that she looked more like you than Benedict but you weren’t so sure.

“Very good!” you said. “Because it looks like an orange flower!”

Camellia clapped her hands excitedly, as if congratulating herself for guessing right, kicking her legs back and forth in her high chair, accidentally dropping one of the many pencils on the table in front of her but she didn’t even notice.

“And what about this one?”

“Fwo?”

“Flower, yes,” you said, nodding fervently and she gave you a huge grin. You went to pick her up from the chair and approached the table in the middle of the huge greenhouse.

 “This is your flower my sweet, see? Middlemist Red Camellia.”

She gasped when she heard her name. “Me!”

“Mm hm, the most beautiful and precious flower in the entire world!” you said, tickling her stomach while kissing her cheeks, making her happy giggles echo in the greenhouse. You fixed her hair, still smiling bright and took a look at the paper she was drawing on before, full of different colored squiggly lines.

“Perhaps your papa is right, you are to be a big artist,” you said as you walked to the glass door. “A painter like him hm?”

“Papa!”

“And your aunt Lottie says you will be a writer and your uncle Teddy says you’ll be a sculptor…” you said as you stepped out of the greenhouse into the huge garden, the sunlight falling upon you. You grabbed the little hat by the door and placed it upon Camellia’s head while she held onto you, playing with your necklace.

“So many ideas!” you told her as you passed by the winter garden, enjoying the chirping of the birds. A couple of butterflies flew by you, no doubt because you were very close to the butterfly garden and Camellia held her breath, pointing at the blue butterfly.

“Mama!”

“I can see that my love,” you said, pressing a kiss on her small chubby hand, and walked past the orangery. “They’re very beautiful, are they not?”

She nodded fervently, making grabby hand motions as if trying to call the butterflies to her.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you said, still walking through the main garden. “They all think like that but do you want to know what I think?”

She nodded her head again, still listening to you very intently.

“I think you might just become the biggest botanist in the world,” you whispered. “I mean it only makes sense, no? You already know so many flowers!”

Camellia pointed at the pear tree and turned to you. “Mine? Mine?”

“Let’s get you one then,” you said with a small laugh, reaching up to grab and pick the pear off the branch. You dusted it off, then gave it to Camellia who made a happy cooing sound, trying to dig into it. You raised your head to look up at the house, a warmth spreading through you as your gaze fell upon the window of Benedict’s studio, then you turned to Camellia.

“Let’s go see papa, hm?” you asked her, then made your way to the house to enter the foyer. You hummed a song and climbed up the stairs, then put Camellia down when you entered the hallway leading to Benedict’s studio.

“Go ahead.”

“Papa?” Camellia called out, running as fast as her tiny legs allowed her, reminding you of a duck. She was still holding the pear tight in her fist, and you walked right behind her to make sure you would be able to catch her if she fell. “Papa!”

You let out a laugh as you heard Benedict’s footsteps and he stepped out of the studio, his jaw dropping as he saw her and he immediately leaned down to catch her before she could smash herself against his legs.

“Oh here’s my sweet!” he said as he hoisted her up into his arms, smothering her in kisses, making her giggle happily before he turned to you, that fond look crossing his eyes, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Hello my love.”

You smiled, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Hello to you too,” you said, letting out a small laugh as he stole another kiss from you. “I figured you needed a break or so.”

“And you were right,” he said, winking at you before turning to Camellia. “How is she always right, do you know?”

Camellia offered him the pear she was holding and Benedict gasped.

“For me?”

“More like it was for her but she’s willing to share,” you said and Benedict grinned.

“Come on,” he nodded in the direction of the studio and walked inside with Camellia in his arms, and you followed them.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you sang in a teasing manner, pulling the hat off Camellia’s head and Benedict shot you a mischievous look.

“Mm, what am I doing?”

“You think you can turn her into an artist if she spends enough time here.”

“I can’t help if she’s naturally talented,” Benedict defended himself. “I mean have you seen her work?”

“The…the squiggly lines?”

“The squiggly lines!” Benedict nodded, rocking Camellia. “She’s a genius artist even as a one-year-old.”

“I still support my botanist theory.”

“Maybe she’ll be both?”

“As you can see my sweet, no high expectations whatsoever,” you told Camellia who was listening to both of you as if she could understand everything you were saying.

“You can be anything you want to be,” Benedict told her as she rested her head on his shoulder, yawning. “Including an artist. Just saying.”

You walked closer to the canvas to see that the background was almost done, and tilted your head.

“What’s this going to be?”

Benedict shot you a grin and pressed his lips on top of Camellia’s hair. You checked the clock on the wall, then rang the bell.

“That one is going to be her,” Benedict said, softly rocking her and you smiled.

“Aw,” you said gently, and walked to caress her soft cheek with your finger. “Did you hear that my sweet? Your own portrait?”

Camellia sucked on her thumb, her eyes closing slowly.

“Is she sleeping?” Benedict whispered and you nodded.

“She is,” you murmured, rubbing her back and turned your head when someone knocked on the door.

“Ma’am,” Paula said. “Mr. Bridgerton. Would you like me to take her for her nap?”

“That would be good Paula, thank you.”

She smiled and took Camellia from Benedict, careful not to wake her.

“I’ll be right there,” you told her and pressed a kiss on Camellia’s head before Paula walked out of the room with her. You turned to Benedict and he entwined his fingers with yours, pulling you into his arms.

“Hey,” you said as he buried his nose into your hair. “Is everything alright?”

“Mm hm, now that you’re here.”

You smiled softly and squeezed his arm. “Are you still tense about the gala?”

He heaved a sigh and you pulled back a little to look up at him.

“Ben, that painting got auctioned and sold in two minutes because everyone was outbidding each other,” you reminded him. “People are talking about you the same way you used to talk about Gordon, everyone agrees that you’re a genius artist, the whole ton—”

“Yeah but it’s different,” he mumbled. “Tonight, it’s only friends and family.”

“Shouldn’t that be comforting?”

“Technically yes but…” he trailed off and shook his head slightly. “Never mind.”

You cupped his cheek, raising your brows. “Tell me.”

“It’s easier when it’s just strangers,” he said with a small chuckle. “Museum owners and Academy directors and such. It’s different when it’s family and friends, and I’d hate it if they thought all those other people exaggerated—”

“Everyone in the Academy and countless artists and museum owners who were on the verge of a fight to get your painting, they all exaggerated?” you asked with a small smile. “All of those people at the same time?”

Benedict thought for a moment. “When you say it like that…”

You let out a laugh and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his, and he heaved a sigh when you pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, his fingers caressing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Tonight is going to be amazing,” you assured him. “I promise you.”

He shot you a mischievous grin, then leaned down hoisted you up into his arms, making you squeal.

“Benedict!”

“There’s no harm in starting the amazing night a bit early,” he said as he carried you to the sofa and you let out a laugh.

“Scandalous behavior!” you joked and he winked at you, then leaned in to kiss you.

                                                *

Of course the night of the gala went perfectly, as you knew it would. Both your family and Benedict’s had been so excited and were very proud of him, and you could see it melted away the last insecurity that had been gnawing at him before tonight.

His speech that he dedicated the painting -and his inspiration- to you was enough to bring tears into your eyes but you managed to hide it by burying your face into his arm, earning an “aww” from the crowd. After the speech, people scattered along in the gallery to talk to each other, and if you said so yourself, everyone seemed to be having fun. Benedict was talking to Gordon, Henry, Margery and Lucy by the corner, Anthony and Lottie looked like they were in their own world while Colin kept whispering things to Penelope’s ear, making her giggle. Eloise seemed to be in a deep conversation with Simon while Daphne watched them with a small smile, and you smiled at Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury as Teddy wheezed past you.

“Teddy don’t run!” you called out and he stopped for a moment.

“But I’m being very careful!” he assured you and returned to chasing Hyacinth and Gregory. Your aunt held up her hands, gesturing surrender as she gave him a fond look and your uncle chuckled.

“If he changes his mind about being a sculptor…”

“He can become a professional runner,” you joked and turned to Josie and Bess.

“So yes, we’re going to Paris before the season,” you told them. “Around like a month before, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Andrew will give you a list of things to bring from there, just so you know,” Bess said said and you let out a laugh.

“I’m alright with that. Wait, where is he anyway?”

Josie cleared her throat. “I think he and Felix are in the orangery—”

“The moon garden, my love,” Bess corrected her and you raised your brows, stifling a laugh.

“Of course they are,” you muttered and heard someone calling your name. You turned your head to see who it was, then made your way to Lottie and Anthony.

“Hello you two.”

“Y/N,” she said with a huge smile, still holding Anthony’s hand. “We already said goodnight to Benedict, we didn’t want to leave before saying goodnight to you.”

You tilted your head. “You’re leaving already?” you asked. “Is everything alright? Is Edmund—”

“Oh Edmund is fine!” she assured you quickly and Anthony nodded.

“He’s probably asleep already.”

“It’s just—I tire very easily nowadays,” Lottie said, making you pull your brows together. Anthony and Lottie exchanged smiles and Lottie bounced on the balls of her feet in an excited manner, making your frown deepen for a moment before the thought dawned on you and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?!” you whispered and Lottie giggled, nodding fervently.

“You’re the first to know,” she whispered and you let out a laugh, then pulled her into a hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you!”

“To both of you obviously—” you said with a laugh, then hugged Anthony as well, making him chuckle as he hugged you back.

“We haven’t told Benedict yet,” he told you as you pulled back. “You know with the gala and everything.”

“Oh he will be very happy for you!” you said and Lottie bit on her lip.

“I wish to be the one to tell him if that’s alright.”

“Absolutely!” you said, waving your hands. “Go on then, go home and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You’d better,” Lottie joked and squeezed your hand, then they both walked out of the gallery. You looked around, then took a step towards Eloise but someone touched the small of your back, making you look up.

“Well if it isn’t the genius artist,” you teased Benedict and he shot you a happy grin.

“Come with me?”

“As long as we’re not going to the moon garden because if I walk in on them again…” you muttered and he tilted his head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said and let him pull you out of the gallery. You both passed through the foyer and he led you outside, still holding your hand.

“Ben, where are we going?” you asked with a laugh and he stopped by the main garden, moonlight falling upon you both, showering the gardens in silver. Even though it was the thousandth time you were seeing this gorgeous view, it still managed to take your breath away.

Speaking of things that managed to take your breath away…

You looked up at Benedict, his handsome face under the moonlight, your heart skipping a beat before you giggled.

“Are we sneaking out of your own gala then?”

Benedict shot you a mischievous smile, then shook his head.

“No I merely…I wanted a moment with you,” he said. “Just you.”

You bit down on your lip as he pulled you closer, his fingers stroking over your hair. Your eyes fluttered close when he brushed his lips against yours and you smiled into the kiss, grazing your nails over the nape of his neck, making him heave a sigh.

“Congratulations Mr. Bridgerton,” you whispered. “Your gala seems to be a success.”

He smiled softly, pressing his lips on your temple. “Seems to be, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

You hummed. “Is it too early to say I told you so?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“Well then, I told you so,” you said, sticking your nose up in the air. “And you should listen to me all the time because to be honest, so far I’ve—”

“I love you,” he said, and your eyes snapped up to his, a smile warming your face. You let out a giggle and pulled him down so that you could kiss him.

“I love you too,” you whispered and entwined your fingers with his, then took a step towards the house.

“Come on,” you said. “It is your gala my love. Let’s go and enjoy it.”

The End.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

[mochinomnoms]

The idea of a octotrio polycule is so cute Mochi pliz hear my rambling

Why settling for one when you can get a buy one get two for free deal?

I can't think of much ideas other than the situation that Azul does something similar to what happened in book three so now they are punished by not getting cuddles the most decent option is to actually put your foot down and keep the punishment even if your boyfriends cry out about how "working at the lounge was so exhausting! Please spare some cuddles for these three poor fishies!!" and even if some of your friends call you out (Jack for Jade, Ace for Floyd +Jamil, Azul for literally anyone?) because they are causing trouble:

Jade keeps following around Jack to ask him questions about beastfolks (I think this happened in the playful land event Jade wanted to make Jack wear silly clothes) he is willing to drag anyone you know into hearing his fully dramatized history of your harsh punishment and it comes with the incredible acting skills of Jade Leech!!

Floyd isn't even trying to even walk to every other activity he does it looks like he does it against his own will (on classes, on club activities) and that's why Ace told you about the latest club practice where Floyd just stayed face first on the gymnasium floor? Please prefect Jamil is about to invent new seafood dishes from how much annoyed he is with this "squiggly, slimy bastard eel"

Speaking of slimy eels... Epel called you because he discovered the whole reason why Vil has been more snappy than usual is Azul not being able to provide his moisturizer because "My workers and myself are in a heavy emotional break, I am afraid that we will be canceling production until stated otherwise.." he genuinely made a little domino line that ends connecting to you and your personal friends?

Of course that's the more decent option of you still going along with the punishment I am saying decent because the other option is to give up and get teased by the tweels and getting your time and affection fully capitalized by your octo darling

After the punishment is over (if you actually have decency and choose the first option) surprisingly when the three immediately drag you to the usual cuddle session everything is planned to fit each of your likings the series you three been watching/a movie playing in the tv, tasty snacks and a thing similar to a pillow fort/a nest? Filled with soft blankets and couches for the best of the best cuddle sections and after this everything will go back to its regular flow!!

(i want to force my brain to have more ideas for this dynamic but I haven't come up with anything else)

BUY ONE GET TWO FREE ASKJDKLAJSFKJGLGJ

They are a delightful package deal, tbh. But they guilt you for your affections so often, it's a miracle that you haven't wrung their necks yet.

They indeed make it everyone else's problem when you decide to ban them from any form of affection other than quick cheek kisses and handholding. But it's 10 times worse when only one or two of them are banned, but the others aren't.

Floyd gets in trouble with you a lot because he tends to bite into you a bit harder than he should, leaving deep marks. It's not the marking itself that's the issue, you'll admit, but it's the fact that he'll leave them in visible areas like your forearms, neck, collar, and even your ankles. All spots that others will see and ask, “Wtf, you good bro??” Sometimes he'll do the same to Azul, who will do the same and ban Floyd from touching him in any form. It wouldn't be as bad if Jade didn't rub it in his face, coming up to hug you from behind, leaning in close to brush his lips against Azul's ear to whisper something, all things that Floyd can't do! It leaves Floyd incredibly annoyed, sometimes angry, and every so often devastated that he can't hold his mates. If the latter occurs, he's coming after you. A weak thing to his tears, Azul has had years to build up resilience and hold firm, but you are weak to a whiny, teary-eyed Floyd who is begging for a kiss and cuddle. It's not faaaaair, Jade's been rubbing it in his face all day, and he loves you both so much, but Azul's not budging and if he can't even hold his shrimp, he doesn't even know what he'll dooooooooo! The day ends with Floyd and you in bed, his arms tightly wrapped around your middle and legs tangled in yours as he blissfully naps. Azul's annoyed that you caved in, but Jade's amused and tries to push Azul into joining the cuddle pile with him.

Now, if Jade's the one that being iced out for something, he'll actually return the favor tenfold. He's just an innocent little guy, what do you mean he can't just secretly feed you two an aphrodisiac mushroom? You had lots of fun afterward, even Floyd agrees (he does, but his firm moral stance on mushrooms doesn't). But Azul's pissed that he was used as a test subject again, and you had to call Ace and Deuce to watch Grim as an emergency. Again. So when you both ban him to only quick smooches and side hugs, Jade returns the energy. He's refusing any form of affection, and not giving them to you. Unlike Floyd, who's begging harassing you for cuddles, he's going to make you two come beg for him. After a few days of no Jade, you're both missing him, it's surprisingly Azul who reaches out first when Jade comes to deliver some paperwork for the dorm. The octomer had leaned in to give him a kiss, when Jade stepped away with a sly smile and told him, “Oh, but I thought you weren't giving me your affections? Let's not go back on our word now, Azul.” Jade is a tad bit nicer to you—taking after Floyd—to guilt you into loving on him again. But Azul? He's gonna make him suffer, simply because he enjoys making him squirm. It's honestly a sight to see, as neither are willing to back down. At least until the two of them fall asleep in Azul's office after working a late night, curled into each other's sides on the couch.

Azul probably has it the worst, as he has both twins teasing him. Floyd and Jade are flaunting you around him, being extra handsy. They're cooing at him, whining about how they can't cuddle both of you at the same time since he was dumb enough to piss you off. How could he do this to them? Such a mean, mean Azul! By far, though, you're the weakest to Azul's charms and silver tongue when compared to the twins. Maybe it's due to the knowledge of Azul's childhood, or maybe it's just because he's extra cute, but you can't find yourself away from him for more than a day. He sniffles, murmurs something about missing your embrace, and you're rushing into his arms, kissing away his tears. The twins get incredibly annoyed that you're so quick to let Azul back into your arms, while they have to wait at least a week sometimes. But then you're both reaching out arms and cooing at them to come to bed, batting your eyes, and all complaints are out the window.

I love them they make for a wonderful polycule. After all, they're a package deal, no matter how much they might say they're not.

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #aaahhh polycule octotrio #it's my favorite thing #but only if the twins also love on azul as much as reader

[gnocchibabie]

Target Practice

author's note: this is my first piece of writing I have ever put out into the world hahah ok bye <3

“600 yards out,” Price’s sudden words almost break your focus “3 notches up, about two to the left accounting for the wind.” he instructs as you stare down the scope of your rifle, looking for the next target. They’ve been getting smaller and smaller as your training progressed and you were struggling to find this last one. Finally, your eyes land on the red balloon.

It smiled back at you.

“Cute,” you chuckle at the poorly drawn smiley face decorating your unfortunate target, “Is that your handiwork or Gaz’s?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Price responds coyly.

You scoff, lining up the shot. The happy balloon swung right and left, fighting against the wind that was now picking up. “Might wanna go three to the left, love” Price suggested. 

“Right,” you say, trying not to give much thought to the name - and how your captain had been using it more and more often. 

You’re finally satisfied with how you’ve lined up your shot. Three up, three left.

You squeeze your finger and feel the butt of the gun kick into your shoulder.

The bullet hits the ground a foot away from the balloon, kicking dust into the wind. The balloon smiles back at you, taunting your marksmanship. 

“Damn” you whisper. 

“S’alright” Price says. It’s not, you scold yourself and line up your shot again. He hears this thought. “Really Y/N, take your time.”

The balloon’s bobbing slows and you feel the wind calm. Readjusting your shot, you feel more confident this bullet will land right between its squiggly sharpie black eyes. The pad of your pointer finger rubs the cold trigger. 

Squeeze.

You see red rubber erupt and flitter off into the air, the wind once again picking up as if it had patiently waited for you to finish shooting the unsuspecting balloon in cold blood. “There you go, love - dropped ‘em!” you finally take your eyes away from the rifle and look at John, offering you a smile. “Or should I say “popped ‘em,” he jokes. Lame, you think to yourself; although you fight back a smile. You don’t miss the warmth that spreads throughout your chest, and fear it creeps into your cheeks. You shake your head, “Should’ve gotten it the first time,” you quip back and begin to stand. Rising, your legs ache from having been lying prone for so long.

Dismantling the rifle, you begin to return it to its case when you feel a hand land on your shoulder. 

Squeeze.

“That’s what practice is for.” your captain reassures you. You knew you were being hard on yourself - in reality you were a great shot. Your skills and potential as a sniper are what had led Laswell to pick up your file months before. She had observed you in action before recommending you to Price, adamant that you would be a great fit on the team and prove to be a useful asset. Amazingly to you, he seemed to agree. It’s why you were receiving this extra training, courtesy of Price himself. You were only embarrassed because you had missed in front of your captain. Who definitely did not make you nervous. 

“Yeah” you respond lamely, latching the case shut, throwing it over your shoulder, and turning to walk back to base. Price sighs, “Y/N.”

Oh no, you thought, he’s using his captain's voice.

You turn around to face him and your eyes meet. “What’s going on with you today? Been quiet. Been a bit off…” John trails off, unsure of how much he should say. “I know I was a little hard on you the other day-”

You cut him off before he can continue. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe that he had done something wrong - something to upset you. “No! No,” you respond quickly “you didn’t do anything - besides, I need to hear that stuff from you - during training. It’s what makes me better.” you see the corners of his mouth quirk up for a moment and you continue. “Sometimes…I just…wonder if I’m worthy of being on this team. I feel like I’m dragging behind. You’re all more experienced. You’ve all been doing this stuff longer…don’t wanna drag everyone down with me…” you finish your rant quietly. You don’t want to meet Price’s gaze and focus on a patch of dirt near your feet, convinced it’s suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. His soft laughter breaks your concentration. 

“You need to get out of that head of yours love - you are not dragging us - me, down,” it is not lost on you how Price made it a point to emphasize himself. Maybe you really were in your head too much. Price continues, “We help you because we want to. Help you because we have been doing this longer. We know what you’re about to deal with on this mission and want you to be as ready and prepared as you can be. Can’t have anything happening to you can we?” He grows more stern at the end of his explanation and you can’t help the smile forming on your face. 

“Yeah, because I’m so valuable-”

“You are.”

Your laughter ceases and smile quickly leaves your face. Your eyes rake over Price’s face, serious as ever. Tension looms in the air over you two and your throat goes dry. “I mean it,” your captain doubles down. His eyes poured into yours. You were suddenly very aware of the flush spreading across your face and the way your mouth parted slightly at his words. “Understood,” you reply breathlessly, “...thank you, Captain.”

A beat of silence rings out between you two as you soak in each other’s words and stare into the other’s eyes.

“And don’t you forget it.” Price breaks the silence, his tone a bit more playful now as he takes the rifle case from your hands and begins down the path leading back to base. You jog after him, telling him you’re perfectly capable of carrying your own gun all while he chuckles. 

#captain john price #john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

[olderthannetfic]

Since you've mentioned that you use Scrivener as a word processing software, I have a bit of a weird-ish question. I have looked at the programme and it seems incredibly useful, and then I looked at the pricetag and- gulp.

I currently use Word which costs 5 euros per year thanks to university, but am thinking about switching to another programme that isn't related to my uni as I feel too paranoid about my smutty fanfic ideas being looked at by my uni and them disapproving of my writing. XD (Word keeps marking "fuck" with a squiggly line and suggesting I choose another word to avoid offending my readers, but if canon doesn't give Barclay some holographic MMF action taking place during "A Fistful of Datas" and turning both his holographic partners into holographic Data and therefore inducing maximum tension and insecurity due to feelings in poor sandwiched Barclay whenever he meets actual Data after that, I will have to write it myself! :P )

According to the website where one can buy a Scrivener license, one pays for the current version of it and will have to buy later versions anew if I haven't misunderstood. You seem to have used it for quite a while, and I haven't managed to find out when the different versions came out. I know the current one is 3, but I am unsure how much time passed between 1 and 2 and 2 and 3, and am unsure whether it's a good idea to buy a license now or whether it would be wiser to wait if it's likely that another version might be released in the near future (that is within one year for example) because then I might wait a little while with my purchase, heh. It probably sounds quite stingy but I am solely getting it for my tiny and too seldom indulged hobby of writing fanfic, and currently have to kinda sorta pay more attention to my wallet and where its contents go, so to say, which is why I'm hesitant.

The question basically is: As a (probable?) long-time user, do you think it's likely a new version of Scrivener will be released within the next year or so or do you think it's likely the current version will be tha latest to purchase for a longer while than 1-2 years?

I hope this rambly mess makes sense, haven't really slept for quite some time, so I am sorry if this is terribly incomprehensible. Sorry for the weird stingy question. Have a nice day and I hope you have slept and will sleep better than I currently do, heh!

--

I've only used it for like three years.

A quick google suggests that Scrivener 2 was released in 2010. 3 was released in 2017 basically to keep up with OS changes.

(IDK what you searched, but this isn't hard to find, dude.)

Scrivener is a fairly... old-fashioned style of software, I guess I'd call it. Some dude wrote himself a program to write his own novel and then people liked it. Some other guy decided to port it to Windows.

They update approximately never. When they do, recent buyers of the old one upgrade for free and everybody else gets like half off. The trial period is 30 days of actual use. The current retail license for 3 is only like sixty bucks. It's a commercial product, but... not like you've been trained to expect by your average modern software that wants to nickle and dime you at every turn.

Do you need Scrivener? Well, no. Not unless you want customizable high-level ebook output formatting and fancy features like that. You could just use some other free option if you just want to type stories in something that isn't Word. But Scrivener is priced extremely low for what it is.

[lichenaday]

Pseudocyphellaria intricata

The rare or endangered species that get the most attention are often the most adorable or charismatic, and humans tend to like things that we can recognize some bit of ourself in. So in that sense, I get why lichens don't get all that much attention. But my goodness, when I look at P. intricata, it looks like a starry night sky or the billowing, cosmic clouds of a nebula or some inexplicably vast yet minute and mysterious galaxy, and I am gazing at in wonder and feeling my own insignificance, and damn if that doesn't make me want to protect it, too. This large, foliose cyanolichen has loosely attached lobes which grow in rosettes or extensive patches up to 20 cm in diameter. The lobes have incised margins covered in a layer of blue-gray soredia, which often spread across the thallus is scattered dots or squiggly lines. The upper surface is gray-brown when moist, red-brown when dry, and the lower surface is beige and tomentose, with scattered pseudocyphella (tiny sunken bald patches). Like many old-growth forest species, populations of P. intricata are on the decline as the humid, costal woodlands it resides in are becoming a thing of the past due to logging, pollution, and climate change. And that makes me sad for a lot of reasons I can't articulate, but so much of it has to do with the destruction of the majestic and wonderful and diverse things of the world in favor of the ordinary and the temporary and the mundane. I don't really know what to do about it, but I think if more of us cared about the tiny infinities growing in the forests, that would be a start, you know?

images: source

info: source | source | source

#lichen #lichens #lichenology #lichenologist #mycology #ecology #conservation biology #biology #endangered species #symbiosis #symbiotic organisms #cyanobacteria #fungus #fungi #Pseudocyphellaria intricata #Pseudocyphellaria #trypo #trypophobia #life science #environmental science #natural science #nature #forest #see the forest for the lichens #I'm lichen it #lichen a day #daily lichen post #lichen subscribe #beautiful nature #weird nature

[sully-s]

I don’t know if you’ve answered this already but how do you draw your poses so fluidly?? A lot of my drawings seem stiff

First off your art most likely isn't as stiff as you think. Sadely you have taken interest in the art of making art therefore you've been cursed like all those before you with stiff-ism. I swear all artists think their art is too stiff. I think my art is stiff. Artists who do those paintings that are all abstract and just squiggly lines you ask them "How do you feel about this piece" They say "Hmm little stiff." Lol. But to answer your question it really just takes time. Fuildy in your art comes from confidence in your art. Confidence comes from doing something a lot so often you do it well. Some of that is pure muscle memory. Training your arm (or wrist though you should discourage leading with your wrist because the range of movement is lacking so you can crutch yourself) to make smooth sweeping lines is like working out any muscle it just takes practice. Some of that is honing your "Eye" which is mainly having the mindfulness to notice how weight flows, pools, and moves in the world, other's art, and in your own art. When I say in the world you study real life when you walk about you see how a dead fall dry leaf curls in on itself having only a tiny section of its being in contact with the sidewalk. While a wet freshly plucked leaf is face plastered almost stamped on the same sidewalk. When I say other's art you can see and understand the choices and placement of movement. And can reverse engineer the same choices with various results (because it's one thing to understand but to do is whole another thing mainly because you' don't have the same muscle memory) When I say your own art you are mindful enough to locate the problem points. We've all times when we look at a piece and are like it's stiff but can't qauifty why. Eventually, you'll notice patterns and weak points in your work that you can choose to work on if you want. Lastly you think it out. Just think about the cause and effects of forces on your piece. The jacket on your subject is stuff with all manner of things that one would keep in a bag so it's weighed down so you'd make a long narrowing U where the pockets are. Thinking it out also will help dictate your line weight which is a lot of how fuild lines feel Tho it will become second nature as you mature as an artist. All of these get better with time and experience now you can do line drills to help with your muscle memory, you can do life studies to help your world eye, you can take tutorials to hone your other's art eye and you can have other's criquite your work to help expose problem points. Or you could just draw it will come in time slower but you will improve. I hope that was some what useful and I wish you the best with your fluidity in your future pieces :)

#Shop Talk #Q&A #Art Talk

[aestheticaltcow]

Alone with the Baby

Gator's alone with the baby for the first time. CW: N/A

Gator woke up to soft cries from the baby monitor on his side table. He slowly sat up and pushed his hair back before looking at the clock: 4:45 AM, “Well, guess I’m awake.” he chuckled before exiting your shared bedroom and walking across the hall into the nursery you’d decorated with soft pastel colors and squiggly lines he hadn’t understood. “Good mornin’ princess.” Gator yawned as he picked up his daughter. She calmed down as he cradled her close to his chest. “Did you just want a cuddle?” he asked, “You really are your Mamá’s daughter, huh?” her bottom lip poked out as tears silently fell from her eyes. “Let’s get you changed and fed… you’re gonna have the best day.” 

“I gotta go, honey bee. I love you.” “Love you too. Have a good day at work, Gator.” he grinned at your words before hanging up the call and shoving his phone in his pocket. You being out of town sucked. Granted, he liked the extra time with your daughter, Vivi. It was always more fun when you were around. Roy came outside as Gator exited his truck and opened the back door to retrieve Vivi. “There’s my grandbaby,” Roy said coldly in a way only he could do. “Where’s that little wife of yours, Gator? Why is it that mine is taking care of Vivianna?” Roy smiled down at her. Gator was a disappointment, but Roy was happy to be a grandfather before he was senile. “She’s in Austin visiting her sister.” Gator answered before lifting the baby carrier out of his truck to take Vivi inside, “You sure about that kid?” he ignored Roy’s question as he hurried to get his daughter out of the cold.

“Thank you again, Karen.” Gator grinned as he handed Vivi off to her. She shook her head, “I told you, Gator, we’re family. I’m more than happy to watch this little angel.” Gator chuckled at her enthusiasm; since the twins started attending regular school, she’d become bored at home. “When’s she comin’ home?” Karen asked, bouncing Vivi on her hip. “Couple more days,” Gator answered before turning to Vivi. He squished her chubby cheek, making her squeal happily, showing off her toothy smile. “Be good, baby girl.”

Gator’s smile faded as he got into a cruiser with Roy.  He was in a bad mood, and Gator knew it was probably his fault. They drove in silence until Roy finally broke the silence to criticize you again, “So your wife keeps your balls in her handbag, right?” Gator looked up at the car's roof, not wanting to fight. “We couldn’t go to her sister’s wedding-” Roy’s scoff cut Gator off. “You provide for her, and she cares for the home and my grandbaby. How do you even know she’s in Austin?” Roy criticized as he pulled up to the sheriff’s station. Gator ignored the question and left the cruiser immediately to take a hit from his vape. He trusted you completely, but he’d be lying if he said his father’s words didn’t affect him. 

Roy continued his rant about your mothering abilities as the two walked inside the station; thankfully, Bowman cut off Roy before he could degrade you further. Gator slipped away and was able to avoid Roy for the majority of his shift. He couldn’t help but let Roy’s words bug him throughout the day. Gator trusted you. He knew you were in Austin with your sister; you’d sent him updates frequently, and he was happy you were enjoying your time away from him and Vivi. It’s only been a week, but it had been the longest you’d been away from her, and while you could conceal some of the mom guilt, Gator could tell you were upset. 

As Gator sent you a picture of Vivi from that morning, he tapped the call button in the upper corner of the screen, only for it to go immediately to voicemail. His eyebrows knit together. You never turned your phone off; maybe it had died. Gator sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He tried to distract himself with paperwork, but it proved ineffective. 

“Hi, princess.” Gator cooed as he picked Vivi up from the crib Karen had dug out of the garage. He watched as she adjusted herself in his arms as he walked downstairs. The twins looked up at him before returning to setting the table, “Are you leaving?” Karen asked as she put a stack of plates on the table. Gator nodded. “Yeah.  The wife asked me to keep up with her bedtime routine.” Karen looked disappointed but nodded. “Are you dropping her off tomorrow?” Gator shook his head. “I’m off until Thursday, and then we’re pickin' her up on Friday morning.” Karen frowned but walked over to say bye to Vivi. While Gator just saw Karen as Roy’s wife, he did respect her love for his daughter and half-sisters. “Well, this little angel can visit me whenever she wants.” 

Gator sat on the couch that night, vape in one hand and his phone in the other. Football was on the TV, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was waiting for you to call him back. As the hours passed, with every tick of the clock- Roy’s words got louder. He was snapped out of his trance when he heard cries over the baby monitor. He rose and walked upstairs quickly, “What’s the matter, princess? Drop your paci?” he asked as he stepped into the nursery. Vivi’s cries filled the room; Gator scooped her up and rocked her, “Oh, you just need a diaper change… We’ll get ya cleaned up, baby girl.” he cooed as he looked into her big brown eyes filled with tears. 

“All better. I knew I could manage to take care of you, Vivi.” Gator laughed as he balanced her on his waist, “I know it’s not part of Mommy’s bedtime routine, but you’re gettin' extra cuddles, baby girl.” Vivi had her head on Gator’s shoulder, furiously sucking on her paci as he walked back to the living room. He sat on the couch and began explaining the football game to her. Vivi stared up at him, bored, which made him laugh. “Mommy makes the same face when I explain plays to her. Just wish she’d call me already…” 

The following day, Gator woke up on the couch. His back was already sore. He groaned as he opened his eyes. Vivi was still asleep on his chest, making him grin. He carefully sat up, trying not to disrupt her sleep, as he reached for his phone from the coffee table and saw five missed calls from you and a voicemail. “Oh shit…” he pressed the callback button. When you answered, he could tell you’d been crying, “Gator! I’msosorrymyphonediedwhilewewereoutyesterday-” Gator chuckled. “Baby, I can’t understand you when you’re like this.” he heard you take a deep breath. “Okay… I’m sorry I forgot to call you last night when I got back to Erica’s house.” Gator nodded. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You havin' fun?” “Yeah… I love Erica, but oh god’m ready to come home and be with you and Vivi again.” “You’ll see us on Friday, angel.” “I know… I just feel guilty.” Gator frowned and took a second before responding, “Hey. Don’t feel guilty, baby. I can handle our daughter.” “I know you can, but I just miss her.” 

That day and the next were a blur. Gator opted to spend his days off fixing up the house and cleaning up after himself. He didn’t want you to come home to a dirty house and think you could never leave him alone with the baby again. “Okay, Vivi. That’s how you fix a drippy sink. Mamá will be happy I finally did this, which means Daddy will also be happy-I’ll let Mamá explain that one…” he washed his hands before picking Vivi up from her ‘baby jail’ and walked out of the kitchen. Gator sat on the porch swing, holding Vivi’s waist as she stood on his lap, pointing at the sky as clouds rolled by. Her giggles were music to his ears, “What does that one look like, baby girl?”. Moments like this felt like magic to Gator, watching Vivi smile and listen to her giggles and snorts as she discovered the world- it was a feeling he couldn’t describe.

“Gator!” he couldn’t help but smile when you called out his name and ran up to Vivi and him. You smiled and quickly kissed him before snatching Vivi from his arms. Vivi squealed as you held her to your chest, “I missed you, princess.” you mumbled into her head as you felt a hand on your lower back, “Let’s get you home, Mamá.”

#fargo #fargo s5 #fargo season 5 #gator tillman #gator tillman one shot #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fic

[demigod-of-the-agni]

A DEVIL REBORN

Happy Halloween!!! A detailed ID will be placed under the cut (it's close to being 1K i could literally post this to Ao3)

p1. ड्याम्म (dyamma) - Nepali for "(feeling) full", "hitting something"

p3. Chutiya - Hindi for "idiot", "moron" and other related insults

p5. க்ரீச் (kreech) - Tamil onomatopoeia describing scraping/screeching sounds

[Extended Image ID: DYAMMA! Slamming his hands on a table, Achanba Okram finds himself in the darkness of his laboratory. He is wearing black clothes and a white lab coat on top, and has a bowl cut with rectangular glasses.

His thoughts whirl within boxes that are coloured gold and are outlined with red; they put a voice to the uneasy feelings Okram knows are stirring inside of him. The thought boxes read:

With Pavitr gone, I finally have time to string my thoughts together. Half-drowned answers bleed out of my pores. Coalescing like some great, abysmal creature of unknown origin.

Bracing his hands against the table, Okram is acutely aware of his body, of the gaping holes in his back that bubble with demonic energy. His thoughts narrate, My body quakes when I begin to question, wracked with paranoia. With dread, as if the idea of what I had to face was unbearable.

The holes in back — four of them, spaced evenly from each other — begin to ooze golden liquid, hot like fire and viscous like tar.

And yet, Okram thinks, I felt it all the same: that crawling, scintillating horror of my reality. Of my tainted flesh and blood. My being here is the work of demonic forces.

Golden arms, fluid yet bony, powered by some otherworldly thing, unravel from the void in his back. They flounder and expand around him, filling the lab with a cold glow. The fingers are tipped with talons, and, if he looked hard enough, Okram swears they are edged with blood.

I died years ago, Okram thinks. I lost my humanity to the fire of the devil's madness. Thus, the question remains: what is the future of Achanba Okram, a DEVIL REBORN?

The lights of the lab suddenly brighten, and Okram hears him before he sees him. His arms register the presence of the other person, immediately unraveling and slipping out of reality. Just outside, Pavitr Prabhakar's voice calls, "HEY, DOCTOR OKRAM! Sorry I'm late! Traffic was abysmal today."

Pavitr's entrance catches Okram by surprise, and he stutters out, "PAVITR?! You- ah- you have one of your shifts today?"

His thoughts reprimand him, You CHUTIYA! Pavitr always has his shifts on Tuesdays!

Pavitr is unaware of Okram's turmoil, sauntering into the laboratory while hefting up a white plastic bag. He's wearing a black and white flannel shirt, and he has circular earrings. Pavitr's eyes are trained on the bag in his hand. He answers Okram's question with, "Yeah, I do. I, uh, got a little hungry along the way (I'm always so hungry)." Pavitr whispers the last part as he lifts the bag up. He continues, "so I went and bought some vada pav, and—"

He suddenly pauses, his eyes locking onto Okram. He can't tell what is going beyond Pavitr's eyes, but the other man's analysing gaze unnerves Okram to a degree beyond description.

(In Pavitr's POV: his Spider-Sense was just triggered. Red and gold squiggly lines emanate from and surround his head in a halo.)

Pavitr lowers the bag slightly in concern. "Uhm," Pavitr says "are you okay, Doctor?"

Dread and fear floods Okram's system. Suddenly he is hyperaware of everything in the room, including the golden arm that has sprouted from his back and was lying on the workbench behind him, right in Pavitr's line of sight.

Play dumb! Okram's mind screams at him. Accordingly, Okram replies, a tad too tightly, "Of course I am, Pavitr! Why wouldn't I be?"

KREECH. The golden arm scrapes its taloned fingers across the table, no doubt giving away its location.

Okram chuckles nervously, sweating almost immediately, at which his mind howls, Not that dumb!

Pavitr narrows his eyes at Okram and at the golden arm on the workbench. "Are those...demonic arms?" he asks Okram, a shadow crossing his face.

(In Pavitr's POV: In the back of his mind, Pavitr sees a vague and faded image forming in response to seeing the arms. He remembers Doctor Octopus, the man with two extra sets of arms who had attacked him many years ago; he was one of the first villains Pavitr fought as Spider-Man. But... Doctor Octopus died a long time ago. Perhaps...?)

"Oh, Doctor..."

Pavitr's gaze softens as he asks, "Are you being haunted by demons? Have you been attacked by them? Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry this has been happening to you. I can't imagine how stressful this is for you." A moment, and then, "Do you want to talk about?"

Okram hides his face in his hands, quickly responding, "No, I'm alright, Pavitr."

Pavitr walks forward, placing his bag down and reaching down to place a reassuring hand on Okram's shoulder. "But, Doctor, men of your generation have ignored their mental health for too long."

"Yes, I know," Okram sighs.

"It'll be okay, Doctor," Pavitr promises, "we can figure something out!"

"And what?" Okram asks somewhat sarcastically. "You will be here with me 'every step of the way'?"

"One hundred percent!" Pavitr says.

Behind them, one of Okram's demonic arms reaches out to peer at Pavitr and Okram; if an arm could be happy, it certainly was. The arm is seemingly pleased with Pavitr's helpful and understanding nature. /.End ID]

#i finished this comic the night before an exam. pray for me #anyway THE COMIC IS HEREEEEEEEEE #this thing has been rolling around in my mind for SOOO LONG lmao #only real spidey fans will understand that this interaction is based on that one scene between peter and otto octavius- #-in the first ps4 spidey game #friendly reminder that pavitr prabhakar (at least in the comics) does not know the identity of his version of doctor octopus #so my brain knew it would be super fucking funny to have this scene happen in the mmau except the roles are swapped. how fucking funny #(please tell me it's funny i worked so hard on this hyperspecific joke) #also yes that picture of pavitr with the bag? that i've been reblogging where he picks up sad peter parker or gets jumped by miguel? #yes that came from here. I AM A COMEDIAN #but narratively-speaking. considering this is now canon for the mythic mumbattan au.... #thinking about how i far i can push the insomniac spidey agenda into this universe. thinking. just THINKING. wait I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHI #and it is FANTASTIC oh you guys are gonna love it #cackling. you'll have to wait for it tho <3 #spider man #spider man india #pavitr prabhakar #achanba okram #(also in case you didn't know. achanba okram ISN'T REAL. HE'S MY LITTLE GUY. I MADE HIM) #(he's like. half oc half established character) #artoftheagni #mythic mumbattan au #atsv #across the spider verse #atsv pavitr #doctor octopus

[duskymrel]

Part 4 of TWST as quotes from my friend group quotebook

Lines with a '^' in front of them are the things said by yours truly ❤

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

^Ace: Eating frozen chicken nuggets in the kitchen at at 1:54 a.m.

Riddle: *turns on the light* What the fuck are you doing

^Ace: *freezes*

Ace and Riddle: *stare at each other for a bit in silence*

^Ace: *slowly shoves the rest of the frozen chicken nugget in his mouth and leaves the kitchen*

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

^Lilia: I use my enhanced intelligence and wisdom to make only the most refined of sex jokes

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

^Epel: Alright everyone place their bets on how long I'm gonna live

Ace: 16

^Epel, 3 months away from his 16th birthday: I like those odds

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

Epel: Technically guys are always pregnant because they're always carrying children

^Deuce: Does that mean women are chickens because they always carry eggs

Ace: Yes

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

Azul: I'm extorting people for money. Oh lord, I love extortion.

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

^Floyd: It's called your sweet 16 because that's when your body is ripest and sweetest. It's the optimal time to feast on my flesh, as it tastes best.

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

^Ruggie: Daddy chill

Leona: I ain't your daddy

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

Cater: Hey guys look at my little goobie, the little Google woobie, the lil squiggly guy, the scrimblo!!!!! *sends picture of said goofie goobie woobie squiggle scrimblo*

Lilia: Nine eleven

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

^Idia: I can't believe I just compared math to the Holocaust what's wrong with me

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

Epel, referring ^Jack: Boob Jesus

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

^Ace, admiring Silvers thighs: Dude, drop the leg routine.

Deuce: How many squats does he *do*???

^Sebek: His legs are ripped because he has to carry the weight of his trauma.

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

^Ace: Megatron? More like MEGA DONG HAHA GOTTEM

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

Riddle: babe no killing

Floyd: fine

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

^Ace: Did you hear about what happened to Barry?:(

Jack: Huh?

^Ace: BARRY-ING DEEZ NUTS IN YOUR MOUTH HAHA GOTTEM

Jack: Never speak to me again

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

Riddle: Finally something heterosexual

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

^Ruggie: Do you think Yuu would smoke weed with me

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

Ace: Why do all these dogs look like wolves that's cringe

^Jack: Maybe because they're descended from them dumbass

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

^Jade: If you can dodge your responsibilities then surely you can dodge a dodgeball

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

We're just silly your honor I swear don't send us to juvie. Also most of these ended up just being the first years because they're so chaotic 💀

#twisted wonderland #twst #duskys memes #ace trappola #jack howl #silver vanrouge #jade leech #Floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #lilia vanrouge #cater diamond #idia shroud #deuce spade #epel felmier #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #sebek zigvolt #azul ashengrotto #funny #twst incorrect quotes

[autumnslance]

Another thing for new Tumblr users: Read Mores

We don't use excess spaces or ROT13 or anything to avoid spoilers here! We use a Read More cut. This is also handy for shortening long posts.

As of July 2 2023 (it can and does change over time, but mostly in where to find things) on desktop when making a hard return space in your post it pulls up the formatting menu for selecting images, gifs, links, etc. The last icon on the list--the straight line, squiggly line, straight line--is your Read More cut

On my iOS tablet app, the menu's found at the bottom of the post editor.

This lets you hide spoiler content and/or trim down longer posts, like long lists or longer fanfiction or character info or lore or whatever.

Now, this is also where your blog's customization comes in; someone clicking on a Read More cut will be taken from the dashboard to your blog post, to read it with your font and color choices. Please make sure they're actually readable and accessible. Even with only a minor astigmatism correctable by glasses, I've run into a LOT of unreadable blogs.

For readers, a way around this on Desktop is the XKIT REWRITTEN browser extension. Handy for a lot of ways to tweak your Tumblr browser experience in general, one of the options also lets you open Read More cuts directly on the Dashboard, which can be a lifesaver if avoiding badly formatted or inaccessible blogs.

Another strong word of warning: Read Mores link back to the original post. Handy if you want to Edit what came under the cut. But also--if you delete the post, or change your blog name/URL, it may break the Read More link on reblogs. The information is either gone or unable to be found, due to how Tumblr structures posting and reblogs, especially in the older text editors. This is often why you'll see people advocate not putting image or video descriptions under a Read More, even if they get long. Other vital information on a post can be lost this way as well.

So go forth without stretching your mutuals' dashboards or worrying about spoiling folks who haven't filtered their tags/words properly!

(Speaking of: please use filtered words and tags for things you don't want to see or interact with!)

If you want to make static Tumblr pages (like all the ones I have on my blog), or have questions about how and why to Customize your blog (don't be mistaken for a spambot and also gain access to your full blog features!), I have other tutorials for that!

#Tumblr #Blogging #Social Media #How To #Tutorial #Read More #Cuts #Haven't used LJ in like 15 years and still say 'under the cut'

[weirdmarioenemies]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

We have a frightening tale for you today... reader be scare, you're in to beware! Please, come in. Sit in the Chilling Chair at our Terrible Table in our Devious Dining Room. Now, I hope you're hungry, because we've made plenty of PETRIFYING PASTA! Fufufu... let's begin.

It was looking to be a very special Halloween. This particular year, the holiday had fallen on Friday the 13th! Spooktacular! Alas, nobody could go trick or treating, for there was a blood moon that day, and nobody wanted to be outside where their costumes would be stained with all the blood. Sigh... what a boring, uneventful day it was shaping up to be!

But then... a sound right outside. The sound of the mailbox opening and closing. Mail? On this federal holiday? How strange! And a bit disconcerting... who would dare to venture out with the town moist with blood? Maybe a vampire... eep! I opened the door, shivering, worried I may accidentally invite the hypothetical vampire inside, only to find...

Nobody there. No body at all. Just a severed, green hand clinging to the mailbox. So that's what the sound was! And here I was, worried it would be something scary. I shooed the little critter away, and as it scuttled off on its fingers, I saw that it had left something in the mailbox! Something familiar.

Why, it was a copy of Super Mario 64 DS! How generous, a Halloween miracle! I had been wanting to play this lately, but my childhood game card had stopped working. This was shaping up to be a nice Halloween after all! It was a used copy, and it still had the price sticker on it, having been resold at $6.66. Upon seeing this number, I immediately screamed. Someone had gotten an incredible deal on this game!

So, I opened the box. Everything was in great condition! Even the manual was included! I don't remember the manual looking like a torn piece of paper with "I SEE YOU" written on it with blood, but it's been a long time. I know I still have my original manual around somewhere, so no need to flip through this one. I got right to playing the game!

What a rush of nostalgia! There was my friend Mario's funny face on the touch screen, ready to be tapped! And tap I did! Rather than the game drawing the lineart of Mario's face, though, it drew something else. A tombstone with my full name, date of birth, and another, later date written on it. Weird! Must be a weird coincidental thing drawn by the previous owner? I played around with the squiggly lines and spun it around. It was fun :)

I got right into the game, and everything was just as I remembered it! I was visited by Lakitu, went into the castle, and jumped into the first painting, like I had so many times before. But something definitely was strange here. I was reasonably certain that the first mission of Bob-omb Battlefield was not called "Kill The Big Bob-omb Dead" in any version of the game! Nevertheless, I continued on.

That was when I saw it. Where I would expect a Bob-omb Buddy to stand was the most terrifying character design I had ever seen. Against my better judgement, I approached and interacted with it.

"Hi! I'm Bob-omb...

BLOODY!!!"

EEK! I could not believe my eyes! I would expect such material in an "adults only"-rated game, but in MARIO?! I had no idea what to do. I continued playing for some foolish reason, running off toward the Big Bob-omb the way I always would, hoping to find comfort in the familiar. The game felt normal again, aside from how Big Bob-omb left a large splatter of realistic blood on the ground when defeated, and I was mercifully brought back to the safety of Peach's Castle.

And yet... I felt a morbid curiosity. An urge to continue playing. Maybe it was just a glitch? Maybe the second mission would be back to normal, and I would get to see my friend Koopa the Quick? That would be nice. I selected the second mission, and...

It was normal. It was safe. The Bob-ombs, Buddies. Maybe none of that was even real. Maybe I was still shaken up about the knock at the door earlier? Whatever it was, it wasn't important anymore. I could finally play my funny Mario game and have fun! I walked on over to my friend the Koopa and interacted with him.

"Excuse me? Can I help you? Who are you?"

I was confused. Wasn't he supposed to ask for Mario? Wasn't this Koopa the Quick?

And then, as if he heard me, he turned his head. He wasn't looking at Yoshi. He was looking straight through the screen at me, and his eyes were more realistic than ever.

"I'm not Koopa the Quick.

I'm Koopa the TRICK!"

AIIIIIEEEEE!!!

Of course, none of this has been real! Just some Halloween Hijinxs! There is no such thing as a realistic turtle!

...Or is there?

That's for you to find out... heehee! Happy Halloween!

#mario #super mario 64 ds #bob omb buddy #koopa the quick #halloween #creepypasta #unreality #long post #mod chikako

[badjoy-17]

The Playfellow Crew

Chapter 1, Part 1

1969, December.

"Where is it?" Ritzy was busy looking for the apple she grabbed to work. She woke up late that day and had no time to prepare her meal. "Anyone? Does anyone seen my apple?" She yells at the studio filled with busy studio crews dragging and moving props around the set. She was frustrated, it was the umpteenth time this happens to her for last three months.

She went to Fionn Finnigan in the Art department, slamming the door open and walk near him."Piyon! Can you help me..." (She had hard time seeing the difference of F and P pronunciation) Rambling about how she was late at work and didn't made herself a lunch box and was opt to grab an apple that is now missing.

"Is that about an apple again?" Fionn was a man in 20's yet still younger than Ritzy and yes he has seen this scene before.

"Yes?" Still sobbing. "I'm already tired and I'm hungry and ...."

"Why don't just buy your meal here, Ritzy?"

"I'm still your senior so address me Mrs. Ritzy?"

"Why the hell will I do that? You're the only one addressing people like that!" He glared at her annoyed and taking a deep breath to listen.

Her eyes grew bigger and looking up to this tall figure. "No, I'm not! And they like it even so I'm the only one..." she pulls him down as she notice herself getting a bit louder. "Also I'm saving my money for my family, remember? I can't be just spending money here and there!" She slumped to the side of his desk and lowers her head.

Fionn stood up to his drawing desk with a straight face and drags Ritzy away from the Art department. He takes a deep breath and spoke "Ms.... Er... No. Mrs. Santos, here have this cash and buy something in that vending machine." He hands her a few dollar and points out to the vending in the corner.

She looks at him with hesitation and mutters, "But its your money!"

"No buts, You can have that!" He still pointing to the vending machine and waiting for her to move.

She looked at him, embarrassed with the cash she received. She nods and thanks him, she felt humbled and went to vending machine. She took two energy bar, glances at him and suddenly runs to him. "Here, take this, Piyon."

Fionn wants to correct Ritzy but he didn't, she might be older but for him he should the bigger man in this situation.

"I know I've been making a big fuzz about this apple thing, but this job is too frustrating... Imagine, for the past 3 months since I started this video technician-ing thing, things are getting weirder and weirder in set. Apples starts disappearing, few staff getting injured, and sometimes the whole footage of the show just kept on doing those weird glitches. Like, that's my job to look after the final footage, it was all running smooth until all of a sudden that freaking thing happened."

Fionn turned his head to Ritzy, alarmed hearing about that incident. "You know what? I have the same experience like you..."

She turns her head to Fionn after hearing those word. "Really?"

"Yeah, You know me, right? I'm a part of the animation and art direction of the this show, right?"

"Uh huh.." she got herself invested and leans in his side.

"Yet everytime i check our panels and plate, there's this weird scribbles on the each animation panels... Wait." He then stood up and drags Ritzy to the archive, took an envelope and pulls out a several animation board panels. "...here look at this. I don't get it ... I swear, look! Those are not there before... Those are evaluated and inspected before getting approved and I... I received it spotless but...."

Ritzy examined each panels and laid them to the light table. "You're saying you don't understand these scribbles? was it from anyone in your department?"

"Yeah, they seems to be drawn by a kid, based on the handwriting strokes, it has difficulty to grasp with pen, here" he points into a pressed squiggly line in the panel "The line got no control on... The strokes are shaking and heavy, it ruins the whole panel."

"Yeah, you're right... But why they are sabotaging our works?" In her peripheral vision, there was someone's watching them from the door. More like a shadow. "D'you see that, Piyon?" Ritzy glued her eyes to him like telling him not to move and act like nothing happened.

"The what?" He looked at her puzzled.

"There was someone watching us from afar... I don't know why but it might be a ghost or something." Her trembling hand reached into her pocket, wrapped her pearl rosary in her hand and hold on it tightly. "Piyon, stay observant, okay?" This gesture confuses Fionn yet he nods obediently. "Oh, about this ..." She shook the wrapper of energy bar, "I owe you." Then she left looking around for something in the Art department

#welcome home puppet show #Playfellow Co. Au fanfic #Feat. Fionn Finnigan of Real World Au by @Chez/Chezzy on tiktok #welcome home #WelcomeHome

[k-rui]

little ghost rui au notes under cut!!

1. mizuki?

though rui and nene were never close, rui was friends with mizuki

but like. he was more distant with them? he didnt know how friendships worked and still kept distance between them, not telling her much

aaand then he graduated and never saw them again

aaaaaaand now hes dead and has no memory of anything

2. random stuff

- emu brings him snacks! he cant eat any of it

- nene tried talking to him and saying sorry for never being close with him but she ends up talking in the wrong direction and rui doesnt know shes trying to talk to him so shes basically talking to nothing

- rui can wipe away dust and chalk power and stuff. he draws little smiley faces on the chalkboard for emu tsukasa and nene to see when they come

3. wonderlands x showtime with no rui???

yeah

tsukasa caught nene singing to herself while cleaning the classroom after everyone left and he complimented her and hung out with her even though she thought he was annoying but eventually she warmed up to him and yeah

tsukasas the reason shes regaining her confidence

they arent really performing though theyre working alot slower

1. mizuki?

though rui and nene were never close, rui was friends with mizuki

but like. he was more distant with them? he didnt know how friendships worked and still kept distance between them, not telling her much

he felt like an alien

1. mizuki?

though rui and nene were never close, rui was friends with mizuki

were we?

i dont know.

i dont remember anything.

nothing feels familiar with the name.

nothing feels familiar

nothing

nothing.

its alright

emu kun and the others are working to help me remember

itll be alright

and one day, ill be able to tell mom im ok

maybe shes worried about me

maybe she misses me

theyre taking a while

my friends, i mean.

emu kun, tsukasa kun and nene kun.

apparently nene kun was my neighbor.

i dont remember

ɹǝqɯǝɯǝɹ ʇuop ı

are you waiting, too?

yes, i understand. this school is rather boring, is it not?

you can leave.

why cant i?

my head hurts every time i try to.

it hurts less if i stay.

well, if youre also staying, lets play a game.

it seems itll be a while until they come.

hmm...

you go first!

ah, excuse the squiggly lines. my hands are rather shaky.

you can just use the chalk.

clever move, clever move.

hmm...

there! i hope you can see it clear enough.

your turn!

fufu, youre not going to win yet~

ah— i suppose it ended in a draw...

...hm.

well, that was fun, now, wasnt it?

you... have to go now?

...are you sure?

i wouldnt mind another game.

please? a tiebreaker round?

please?

no, please, just a little more time with me

ill listen to your problems

ill keep you company

im good company, i promise

just stay a while longer

just stay until emu kun gets here

please

i cant be alone

please

please

please

pl乇卂丂乇

4. rui hates being alone

like. hes desperate for company LMAO

well mostly emus company

because she actually talks to him and can see him

company when ppl ignore you isnt really company now is it

#ghost rui au #incase anyone wanted to know anything #kamishiro rui #rui kamishiro #tenma tsukasa #otori emu #kusanagi nene #akiyama mizuki #proseka