#{thank you for sending this!}

[semperama]

AHHHHHH will you write me buddie for 56 "it brings out your eyes"????????? 😃😃😃

“It brings out your eyes.”

----

"Okay, which one?" Buck asks, holding up two different t-shirts, one sky blue and one salmon-y pink.

Eddie sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. He's been perched on the end of Buck's bed for what feels like an hour, watching him fuss with his hair and then rifle through his closet. "I don't know, Buck." He lets his gaze drift down Buck's body for what feels like the millionth time, trying to ignore the way it gets fractionally harder to breathe each time he does it. "The blue, I guess. It brings out your eyes."

Buck snorts. "I'm going to a club. No one'll be able to see what color my eyes are." He tilts his head to the side and grins. "Not that they'll be looking anyway."

"Oh my God." Eddie looks up at the ceiling and says a silent prayer for mercy. "This is why I told you I wouldn't be much help. What do I know about clubs?" Much less gay clubs.

"Come on, man." Buck tosses the salmon shirt down on the bed and starts peeling the blue one off the hanger. "I'm freaking out, okay? Are you sure you can't come with me?"

Can't? Maybe that was a lie. With Chris gone, he has no good excuse to stay home these days. But the last thing he needs is to watch Buck get hit on by random strangers--especially not if alcohol is going to be involved. He wouldn't even have come over to help Buck get ready if he hadn't begged him. It'll be the first time I've gone out since me and Tommy broke up, Eddie. I could really use a pep talk.

"I don't even understand why you have to go," Eddie says. He watches Buck pull on the shirt, tries not to linger too long on how it stretches around his biceps, over his chest. "Is this really a good way to meet guys? At your age?"

Buck gasps with exaggerated affront. "At my age?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. "Last time we went out with Hen and Karen you puked in my front lawn and then complained about your hangover for two days."

"I did a bad job pacing myself that night," Buck says, his mouth twisted into what could almost be a pout. "Karen holds her alcohol better than I do. And anyway, they're older than us, so if they can go out--"

"They go out like twice a year. Together. As a couple. Not to meet people."

Buck's expression darkens. "Yeah, well. I'm not part of a couple, so." Okay. So Eddie fucked up with that one. He sighs, but before he can apologize, Buck spreads his arms out and swivels his torso a little. "Just...how do I look?"

He looks good enough to fucking eat, of course. The shirt hugs him in all the right places. His jeans make his ass look great. He must have found some new product for his hair, because his curls are perfect and soft-looking, begging to be touched. Eddie wants to drag him in by the belt loops and beg him to stay.

"You look great, Buck," he says quietly. Because Buck asked him for a pep talk, and so far he's failed the assignment. The least he can do is try to turn it around. The least he can do is be a good friend, not a selfish, jealous asshole. "Seriously, you're going to have guys falling at your feet."

The smile that creeps its way across Buck's face make it all worth it. He ducks his head, shrugs his shoulders up, and Eddie is stabbed by a longing so intense he's halfway to his feet before he realizes what he's doing and stops himself.

"I'll let you get going then," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets do he doesn't give in to the temptation to touch. "Let me know how it goes?"

"Yeah," Buck says. His gaze is searching Eddie's face. For what, Eddie doesn't know. "Yeah, of course."

Eddie makes it to the door, breath painful and ragged in his chest, before he hears Buck's feet pounding down the stairs behind him. He turns to look, to ask if there was something else, but he barely opens his mouth before Buck is there, one hand on Eddie's neck, the other wrapping around his waist, pulling him in so close it knocks the air out of his lungs.

Then, Buck is kissing him. Desperate press of lips, tongue licking into Eddie's shocked mouth. It's an electric shock, white heat spreading through him, painfully good.

But then as soon as it started, it's over, and Buck is staring at him, wide-eyed. Eddie wants to dive into that blue gaze and drown there.

"I'm sorry," Buck says. "I just--I had to try. I had to know, before I--"

"Buck." His fingers are curled in the back of Buck's shirt, and he curls them tighter, presses Buck closer. "Don't go," he says. "Stay here. With me."

"Okay," Buck says breathlessly. He looks like he has no idea what's happening, and Eddie knows the feeling, but they can talk later, figure it all out later.

"Good," Eddie says, and pushes his fingers into Buck's hair, pulls their mouths together again.

[ruporas]

I love your chibis, they remind me of Peanuts (comic)

thank you!! i remember someone saying this to me before too :3 peanuts’ style is very charming so i like hearing that about my bite sized creatures❤️

[avonne-writes]

John kissing Gale's pillow is the most heterosexual thing we'll see today

From this gifset

It's a beautiful day then! 💖

[gretagerwigsmuse]

ily can we can a sneakie peak at what our rocketman is up to?

yes you may 🥰 especially since it’s rocketman’s birthday 💁🏼‍♀️ i’ve been stuck on the smut lol (he’s been going down on that poor girl for weeks), but i have a lot of the lead up to their vacation written, so here’s a cute little scene from the day before they leave:

//

Bradley poked his head into the dining room where you’d made up your office for the day. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why you weren’t using the office upstairs, but he held back. He liked that you were downstairs, he liked that you were close.

Of course he’d seen you work from home before. But there was something about seeing you holding meetings and taking calls for the first time in your home that made him smile.

But though you were taking a half day to prepare for leaving tomorrow, Bradley knew you’d be checking your email and Slack for the rest of the afternoon before officially logging off for the next 10 days.

10 days in Punta Mita - just the two of you, no distractions, no emails, no training runs, nothing but the sun, sea, and sex.

Just you and me, kid.

Bradley slightly stepped into the room and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m gonna go for a run, but should be back for lunch.”

You turned around and took out your airpods before responding. “Sounds good, how much are you thinking?”

“Probably a quick 10k?” It had been ages since Bradley had run his usual route through Balboa Park, so these last few days had been a treat.

“‘A quick 10k,’ he says. I should be done by the time you get back then?” He nodded. “We can have lunch and then I’ll head out on my errands.”

Errands? “Oh? I didn’t know you were going out?”

You sat up straighter and fully focused on him. “Yeah, I have to get my nails done and then have to pick up a couple things - like your special sunscreen...”

“Can I come?” he asked, completely ignoring the sunscreen comment. It wasn’t special per se, it was just high SPF since he burned easily.

“Really?” You sounded surprised. “It’ll be pretty boring.”

“No, I wanna come with you.” I wanna spend time with you.

A bashful smile appeared on your face. “Okay, then maybe we can get lunch out instead? Make an afternoon or it? There’s a bunch of places around the salon.”

“Your old stomping grounds?” Bradley asked, referencing your old neighborhood near Gaslamp.

You shook your head. “Nah. Figured I’d try someplace around here, but the only one that looks promising is way up on 30th?”

“I think we can make due with that,” he pecked your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you in a bit, kid. Don’t work too hard.”

“Har, har, see you soon.”

Bradley shot you a wink and set off. Who knew, maybe he’d set a new PR in his haste to get back to you?

[biteofcherry]

Okay, so picture this:

You’re out on the town with your friends, it’s a late night of bar hopping in a city you’ve never been before. Tonight is your last one there, so they insist on making the most of it well into the early hours of the morning. You find yourselves in an old historic part of town and are drawn by the energy of a storefront, somehow still open at this late hour. Your friends are caught up in themselves, sharing jokes with tipsy laughter as you enter the door alone, greeted by an old woman. In your drunken unfilteredness, you spill everything to her: why you’re on this trip, why you sometimes feel unlucky in love, how you’ve been pining after this man, but for some reason he doesn’t seem to notice. She offers you some tea, it would be rude to turn down her hospitality, but she’s got a twinkle in her eye. She’s actually a witch doctor who can make potions to grant your wish of not being alone anymore. She can make the man you want, want you back, or at least give them that extra push (bc they def already have feelings, just don’t show it and try to shove them down). When you return home, having forgotten about your drunken encounters, you’re confused as to why this man is all over you. Is it:

work rival Steve, childhood friend Ransom, or neighbor Andy ?

okay okay okay 👀 let's think

Why would we pin after a work rival? I mean, I get that it's Steve and it's reason enough. Valid point. Are we like serious rivals? Enemies about to become lovers? Is there heat and threats and unresolved sexual tension?

Ransom can be a childhood friend, but is he worthy of pinning? He's handsome, but also a spoiled asshole who treats his staff poorly. I suppose he's good to us and maybe even spoils us a bit. He's definitely cozy to snuggle up with on autumn evenings, watching movies.

Is the gloomy neighbor Andy a just widowed/divorced hermit, who gives charming smiles, but keeps to himself? Does that intrigue us? Do we want to make him smile more often and imagine ourselves as fixing his broken heart?

🤔🤔🤔

I don't see myself pining after Ransom 😜 I would find him hot and want to fuck him, but for me he's not a type to be crushing on. At least not for the adult me. My teenage self could probably fall for the smart but cunt appeal.

So I'm left with neighbor Andy and rival coworker Steve...

Who am I kidding, we all know who I'm going to choose! BUT let me tell you, it wasn't just because he's Steve. It was the fact he was given the enemies to lovers sort of trope and lots of tension that just begs to be resolved. And yes, I can see myself having some fixation on a man that is hot, but also challenges me on an intellectual level and understands the value of our work, is possibly admirable in his field, too.

[bunitivity]

I really REALLY need to tell you my hc that Luffy and Usopp sleep in the same bed 98.37% of the time. They are EXTREMELY hard to seperate.

When Usopp first joins the strawhats along with Merry, the boys have to make do with what they have. And that includes taking turns sleeping in the hammocks. Now I'm going to reference that pic where Luffy is hanging down on Usopp's body from his hammock. Also the one where Zoro and Sanji sleep on the floor face to face. That one. One time Luffy actually falls into Usopp's hammock but neither of them realize it and in the morning the sniper might have hit his head when falling on the floor from the sudden surprise. But then it became a usual thing and both of them were becoming closer friends so eventually Usopp just proposed them sleeping together since they're gonna end up like that in the end. Of course the more they travelled, they got bunks for comfort, because sleeping on the floor/couch got annoying.

Then Water 7 happens and Usopp is devastated. He really wants to go back to them snuggling but he feels like if he offers it right after what happened to them it would feel like he didn't feel sorry at all, which is not true. And besides, Sunny has all the comfort you could ever want, so no more "well, if you're gonna slip into my bunk anyways, why not just share it from the start" excuse.

However, Luffy's thought process is a little different. He gets a little confused as to why Usopp still hasn't invited him over. Well, the sniper apologized, they had an emotional reunion, spent the rest of the day together and now they won't even snuggle like they did before? Something's gotta be up.

So as soon as Luffy makes his decision, he "slips" into Usopp's bunk and hugged the shit out of the sniper, making sure he wasn't going anywhere. Usopp let him stay. He wanted to anyways.

So since then, their habit of sharing one bed and cuddling was fully established. Oh boy, I sure hope they don't get seperated again only for a longer period of time.

No listen you literally read my mind! I’ve literally been thinking about this idea nonstop I’ve it written in my draft somewhere. Still think about that moment post dressrosa where usopp just goes to sleep right on top of luffy and no one bats an eye lol(really tried to find a pic of it but it isn’t in my tag ://) it was just business as usual for everyone but there’s no way that’s the first time that’s happened. They definitely sleep together all the time. It’s just second nature to them to just curl around each other and fall asleep.

And oh w7 ;-; the most devastating arc my beloved <3 neither of them sleeps during their separation(i dont actually have long they were apart but I’m pretty sure it was just one night considering how fast paced one piece is but it was a very looong night either way with Usopp staying up working on the merry while luffy just tossing and turning until he just ends up staring out over that rooftop where nami finds him the following morning telling her he was looking out for robin but really he was just looking out the sea to where the merry was docked🥲)

and ofc luffy would be the one to push past the awkwardness because once usopp apologized that was it he had already forgiving him the moment he saw usopp on that bridge screaming at him to keep fighting(still think about how ready luffy was to bring him to the crew immediately post ennies lobby until zoro knocked some sense into him lol) there was no way he was going another sleepless night without him

[jamiesfootball]

For the six sentence ask game: Throughout the evening and all the noise, Roy keeps a close eye on Jamie, and when at long last he finally crumbles, Roy is already moving to catch him.

Happy enrichment and happy writing!

Throughout the evening and all the noise, Roy keeps a close eye on Jamie, and when at long last he finally crumbles, Roy is already moving to catch him.

Jamie, being a prick, loops his arms around Roy's neck and brings him crashing down with him.

"Oi!" Roy tries to growl around a mouth stretched too wide. His knuckles sting where he's managed to block their Ballon d'Or nominee's skull from cracking against the pavement; a close save worthy of its own Golden Glove, if you ask him.

The mad lad responds by bursting into giggles, face flushed with the truly irresponsible amount of alcohol Roy's let him get away with. "We won, Coach- we won!"

Roy catches him when he tries to stand, stumbling and nearly falling and stumbling and nearly falling and stumbling and nearly falling, until it's easier to just brace him up against his shoulder and let the heavy, happy weight of victory settle in with a contented sigh that cuts through the raucous noise of celebration.

He's not used to playing safety net, but tonight Roy doesn't mind playing keeper.

[eupheme]

Your fics are insane. Like, seriously. You're such a talented writer.

ahh anon this is THE sweetest message, I have been blushing for days!! Writing fics is such a great creative outlet for me and something I really & truly love doing and, ah - I can’t even explain how happy I am to hear that you like what I share 🥺💖 thank you so so much for thinking of me!

me irl to you:

[sunshinechay]

SeanWhite for the ship ask!

SeanWhite!

These two are my babies! I love them so much. They hold such a special place in my heart as Not Me was one of my first gmmtv shows that I watched as well as my first OffGun show. Plus they are just so adorable and also badass together.

They make each other complete and give 110% all the time. Sean is a pathetic (affectionate) babygirl and White is the place at which he worships and I think that amazing. White is so smart and quick witted and just the most character of all time.

Their chemistry feels so natural (*starstruck in OffGun*) and while I wouldn’t necessarily call them a slow burn, I like that they took their time finding each other and figuring out how they feel about each other. I also love that Sean is never really angry that White lied to him about being Black. Like he gets angry about the unintentional hot-cold that happens because Black comes back, but he figures out pretty quickly that it wasn’t done to be malicious and thus is completely willing to listen to White about what happened.

I also love that Sean unintentionally ends up functioning as White’s anchor as he ends into this new world. He becomes the person White relies on the most pretty quickly and he is more than willing to do it, even if he’s not entirely aware it’s happening at all.

In conclusion, these two motherfuckers (affectionate) have my heart. I’m never going to be normal about them. I love them so much!

Also the flag scene. Sean absolutely did not need to hold White’s hand, but he does and I’m never getting over it!

[hold-him-down]

Hello!

🙉 - What writing advice do you ignore?

I fear that I ignore a lot of technical writing advice, chiefly among them:

Abhorrent comma misuse - I could not be fucked to reduce the number of commas, necessary or not

Failure to outline - I go off vibes and vibes alone which may be partly to blame for the stories progressing at a snail's speed but I really just want to write the scenes I think about, and they tend to be more whump heavy and less plot heavy

Failure to edit before posting - I sometimes don't reread pieces at all before I post them, which is especially hard when I write one piece in separate chunks, because I end up having completely nonsensical transitions between scenes accidentally or repeated parts or something and it's chaos.

Editing after posting - I edit almost EVERY single piece I post after I post it, so the people who read my pieces immediately (like first 10 minutes) usually do not end up seeing the final piece (unless they reread it later) because I think it just looks different after I post it, and I catch things I wouldn't ordinarily catch

But I think the writing advice I am absolutely *most* guilty of failing to heed is when people say things in the vein 'don't write for an audience' or 'it doesn't matter what people want to read you should write what you want to write,' etc. I try hard to live by it but in the back of my mind I am so often I feel like I am thinking, specifically, people don't want this story or people don't want this timeline or people don't want to read this for other xyz reason. I'm trying very hard to write for myself but I do just love when people read my writing and giving readers the content they want :)

[dwrogue]

hello i would like to offer an inconsequential headcanon: rogue is a samefoods autistic and he has eaten little other than ramen for the last 30 years. it's a miracle he is still alive.

Oh to have a time machine where you never have to worry about the one (1) brand of something you eat changing the recipe or not being made any more (only avoiding creating a world-ending paradox by bumping into one of the 700 other yous buying the same thing)

[skyheld]

@tragicvictories asked: "It's nothing serious, just a few cuts and bruises. You'll be fine." // for merrill from ziphrane!

" Oh, I know ", Merrill says, as though she weren't on the verge of tears a moment ago. " I mean, I know I'll be fine — I wasn't worried about that. I can even stand on this foot — but I won't, not until you've healed it. It would be bad. " She bites her lip, looking down at her twisted ankle. " I was just afraid you wouldn't find me at all. I wouldn't have found you. "

Stupid, stupid Merrill who gets lost if she walks out of sight of camp; now she can't even walk down a slope without falling and getting hurt. Clumsy as a shem. No one in the clan will ever say it to her face, but Merrill knows they think she's silly for getting lost so easily.

She picks a twig out of her hair and lets it fall into her lap, shoulders sinking hopelessly. She knows the trees around her. The old elm with the twisted trunk, the row of birches. She knows that the little creek at the foot of the slope ( which she's glad she didn't fall into; then she'd have been both hurt and wet ) is where the hunters set out hooks to catch fish, and she knows it's the same creek as the one running just past camp, from which they get their drinking water. But she couldn't tell if camp is upstream or downstream from here. She couldn't tell if she should walk past the birches to get to it, or turn her back on them. She knows the landmarks, but not how they connect. Slope, trees, camp — they're just three different places in her mind, disjointed.

" But you're here ", she says, tilting her head back to smile faintly at Ziphrane. " It's as Paivel says. Ghilan'nain holds her hand over me, and leads me home. "

[virgo-dream]

9 and/or 17 for the ask game!

Hi Seiya!!! 💖 I’m not going to answer 9 in this post because I honestly have memory issues and I don’t currently remember something I wrote that I’m particularly proud of right now :(

17. Are there any writers and/or stories that you consider an influence?

Uuuuuuuh I think I’ve said this to them a billion times but I’m definitely tagging them here too!

@avelera is fully the reason why I’m on tumblr for Dreamling and even writing fic! I love the way she develops her plots, the impeccable grasp she has on the minds of the characters, and just how well she does writing stories in different genres. Also, Maggie has the ability to not coddle the characters and show their ugly sides too, which is something I admire a lot.

@softest-punk has to hear me scream whenever they post anything because soft has the gentlest, kindest and most hopeful writing I’ve ever seen. Everything is imbued with an inner light and just fiercely loving. Soft, like Maggie, also has incredible grasp of the technical part of writing (which is the reason why I’ve bothered both of them for writing advice).

@landwriter is an absolute master of themes and language. Just unhinged levels of drenching a story in symbolism even in the smallest little details. Also, the way Gloam does research is insane. I wish I had the same level of brain power to do research for work that Gloam does for fics.

@moorishflower’s writing is wild, vivid, unapologetic, experimental… moorish is just out here writing about themes and in ways that I’ve never allowed myself to even consider trying. Another master of language, like Gloam, and constantly pushing the boundaries.

@chiron-crow just goes there with his fics. He’s exploring pain, darkness, honesty and healing in an incredibly raw way that I think even scares him sometimes. I love how Chi organises his writing, how methodical he is in his process and how deeply he cares for the themes he chooses to tackle (Also his poetry fucking slaps ok?)

@valeriianz’s Bolt In The Blue has such a strong grip on my heart that I actually wrote fic for Kris’ fic lol. It’s a true slow burn, which I enjoy reading but am terrible at executing in my own writing. I love how Kris is able to take something that is not a common experience (being a touring musician) and stripping it down to the bare bones of it, the points of connection where everyone can identify with the characters.

@beatnikfreakiswriting’s “would you let me know” is one of the most delightful fics I’ve had the pleasure of stumbling upon. The exploration of Dream and Hob’s relationship, how Dream slowly opens up, all while dealing with the academic environment as a backdrop. I’ve steered away from academic AUs because I have deep academic trauma, so this fic made me feel seen and I was happy to have given it a chance. I just remember being happy reading it.

MonstruousRegiment is not on tumblr as far as I’m aware, but both The Uses of Adversity and The Stars Move Still are in my kindle fic bible for continuous reading because damn, those fics are good. There are so many original characters that just feel native to the universe they’re exploring. Their take on the “Hob saves Dream from the fishbowl” trope is one of my favourites to date. In the second instalment of the series, they manage to do yet another incredible canon divergence take. I’d read a thousand of those, just exploring how things could be different at different points of the story.

[the-hawkeyes]

How does your muse flirt? Are they the master of body language or a witty one-liner, or is the idea of flirting so foreign to them they wouldn't know the first thing to do about it? Do they tend to realise they're being flirted with, or does the other party tend to need to spell it out to them?

Kiera's no stranger to flirting! She loves to flirt, and is generally pretty good on picking up if someone's flirting with her! And returning the flirting in some equal measure. Although she's usually the one to initiate, for a long time this was just towards men.

It wasn't until she was in her mid-40's did she realize that she was bi, and started actively seeking out women. But she wasn't nearly as confident in her flirting, having never been with a woman before. Whenever women flirted with her, she never really picked up on it, and when she did, she was easily flustered.

While that is mostly gone after dating her wife, and marrying her, there's still those times when Iyrn whips out a line that leaves her blushing and stammering in embarrassment.

[allylikethecat]

I need gatty with gentle forehead kisses it is so important to me I’m so glad you’re doing more prompts I literally only check tumblr to see if you’ve posted 😭😭😭

Hello there kind anon who sent me this prompt in literally August but I am the WORST and just now filling it. I hope you're still here and I am so very grateful for your patience and also extremely sorry for the extremely long wait. I hope this isn't an epic disappointment. Working on it today made me smile amongst all of the sadness of this era being over. If anyone else wants to send a prompt from the kiss me with your eyes closed list and doesn't mind waiting apparently months, the list can be found HERE. Thank you so much for sending this in, and I apologize again for being the absolute worst and taking so long to finish it! I hope you have a great weekend and that you have a great week!

❤️Ally

Gentle. Forehead. Kisses. 

“Hey,” said George softly, slipping easily into Matty’s space with the ease and confidence of someone who had been doing so for years. He wrapped his arms around Matty’s narrow waist, and hooked his chin over Matty’s shoulder, the fabric of his well loved tee shirt wash-soft against the underside of George’s jaw. 

“Hey,” said Matty, not even looking away from the easel he had set up in the courtyard, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he stared at the canvas in concentration, an eruption of color marring the surface.

Following the final show of their tour, George had very quickly found himself back in the studio the next week, working through the backlog of production projects he had been procrastinating on. Meanwhile, Matty had moved through their home like a ghost, sleeping all day, and awake half the night, limping aimlessly from room to room, unsure what to do with himself without the rigid structure, the routine and accountability of tour. 

His therapist had recommended he find a hobby, one fully separated from work because as much as Matty loved music, lived and breathed it, at the end of the day, it was still his job. 

Reading just made him want to write, and every time he sat down to work on his novel he ended up scrawling lyrics on a napkin instead. His knee couldn’t currently handle the physicality of running or even jiu jitsu at the moment which left him restless. George is the one that had suggested he try painting, sheepishly holding out a bag of acrylic paints and brushes. 

Matty had taken to it quickly, swirls of color smeared across the canvas that now covered their dining room table as Matty lay them out to dry. 

“It looks good,” said George, tilting his head slightly as he took in the orange and yellows that covered the surface. He didn’t always understand Matty’s art, but he liked that it put the light back in his eyes, that he got excited bringing each finished piece inside and resting it on the dining room table. He kept making jokes about starting an Etsy shop, about donating the proceeds to charity. George wasn’t sure if he was actually joking. 

“Thanks,” said Matty, adding another stroke of yellow, blending it with the orange. 

He wouldn’t say it, he couldn’t find the words, but he hoped that George realized the painting was him. Not him the tangible sense, but how he made Matty feel, his insides all twisted up with love and desire, and yearning and the ever present disbelief, even after all these years, that George still wanted him back. Unlike the dark grays and blacks and whites with violent splashes of red that had made up Matty’s earlier works, this one was different, it was happy. Looking at it made Matty feel happy the same way George did. He would be keeping this one. This painting was for them.

“You’re back early,” said Matty, twisting in George’s arms. George snorted. Matty had a smudge of orange paint on his nose, a streak of yellow in his hair. 

“I’m actually late,” George said, and Matty frowned. 

“What time is it?” he asked, dipping his brush in the pint glass of water he had commandeered from the kitchen and leaving it to soak.

“Little after six,” said George, bemused, it wasn’t the first time that Matty had lost track of time while absorbed in a project, and he doubted it would be the last.

“Oh,” said Matty, his cheeks flushing, “I didn’t realize I had been out here so long.” 

George couldn’t help it, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against Matty’s forehead, his sun warmed curls tickling his lips as they brushed against his face.

“You’re really fucking cute,” said George, “you know that right?” 

Matty pretended to scoff, “I’m not cute,” he said with faux indignation. “I am a very manly, masculine, adult man, I am not cute.” 

“Fucking adorable,” said George, pressing another kiss to Matty’s forehead, “like a little woodland creature, all small and fluffy and cute.” 

Matty just made a huffing noise, standing up on his tiptoes to capture George’s mouth with his own, slipping his tongue between George’s eager lips. When he pulled away they were both breathing heavily, and George now had some of the orange paint on his face as well. 

“Now tell me,” said Matty, his voice thick with arousal, “was that cute.” 

George just chuckled,  “cute as fuck.”