#that it falls flat even when the second round character is a better one

[short-black-diamond]

ANGST PURE FLAVORED ANGST! tis is what i crave! tis is what i want! tis is what i need! tis is what i ask!

Wednesday x Reader

Absolute neglect after The Hyde situation, Wednesday is stuck to Enid like a bear to honey, ignoring your attempts to hang out with her, ignoring ur dates, ignoring you. You finally had enough and its time to let go of your hopes and dreams with her, your future with her. You know you deserve better, you deserved better than to be just a second. You willingly cut that line that connects the two of you together and go on with your life, to be finally happy.

You control the plot author, the dialogues , the way you want them to break up, the levels of angst, i leave it up to you to create a heart breaking, heart stomping, teae inducing of a masterpiece! Remember to always have fun writing or the flavor of the story will fall flat. Goodluck!

Okayyyy, alright! Thank you for the request!

I did it slightly different from your request, with Wednesday being out of character, and, like with a happy ending. and I'm not that good with angst but I'll try! so uh, yeah, eheh...

Wednesday x reader angst everyone!!!

Warnings: Angst obvi, very ooc and toxic Wednesday

Btw everyone can request something, don't be shyyyy

---

"Why can't you believe me?", your voice echoed in the big corridor, fast steps following even faster ones. Nobody dared to come out of their dorms, scared to get a taste of your or Wednesday's anger.

It should actually be the other way round; with Wednesday chasing you and not you chasing her. But you needed to know.

"How come that everytime you tell me something, it happens in a short amount of time. How come that you always know what happens next?", the girl said while her back was to you and she was skidding to a stop when she sharply turned around and faced you.

She was the right one to speak when she was the one with the visions...but you didn't say that outloud, at first being grateful that she even turned around in the first place.

Even though you would've liked for her to listen to you, understand your reasons, why you knew all this, you knew that it still wouldn't end well. Because Wednesday never understood you. She may be the weird girl everybody knows, but to her, you were the weird one.

As you were looking at her perfectly symmetrical face and dared to admire her beauty, you also frowned. "You are my girlfriend, Wednesday. I care about you. I have my reasons, Wednesday. You have yours too. You are not comfortable talking about what happens in your visions, I am not comfortable talking about why I know all this. Let's not overstep each others boundaries here-"

"You overstepped the boundaries when you followed me to the cafe and pulled me away from Tyler-" "I had a good reason to do that! You cheated on me! You were so caught up in kissing him, not noticing how his eyes were fucking open the entire time! He was using you, Wednesday! And we two, we were fucking together!", you screamed now, not noticing that your argument had gotten louder.

Wednesday didn't tell you that she had a vision mid-kiss.

As you were panting, and so was she, she took in your state. Your hair was a mess, your eyes looked like they have been producing a concerning amount of tears, your face was pretty pale and your choise of clothes wasn't the best either. Sure, she felt really bad for cheating on you, but maybe she liked 'normal' people more than she'd like to admit. She also wished that she could apologize, but the damage was done and her throat had a big stone in it. It was weird, really, how she couldn't say anything. Not even a simple sorry. And she somehow felt her eyes burn. And she didn't like the feeling that was bubbling up inside her.

Finally realizing that this argument lead to nowhere with the girl in front of you, tears started forming in your eyes. You knew that you shouldn't apologize, but you always were sorry for doing something wrong, even when you never did anything wrong. And even though you were the one who got cheated on, you still felt like apologizing. "I'm sorry, Wednesday. I really care about you, a-and I was scared that something bad would happen-"

"Leave me alone. It's over between us.", was all the girl said before turning around again and rounding the corner to her dorm. you were left standing there, dumbfounded. She didn't aknowledge that you literally risked your fine ass to save her, leaving her with minor wounds and you with major ones. She fucking cheated on you. She ignored you for the rest of the day and you couldn't help but get depressed, but also angry and displeased.

The next time you saw her, she was literally touching shoulders with Enid, making the rainbow girl gleam in delight. W-were they together now? you felt like puking. Enid and Wednesday didn't look good together, and other people expressed their disagreement by looking at the weird pair with a 'wtf' expression. At least you weren't the only one who didn't like what you saw.

...

It has been a few days after your break up with her. Being away from Wednesday lead you to think about yourself while you meditated. you had a flower-like power, with plants errupting from any surface you touched with your bare hands, feet, or naked body. That's why you always covered as much of your body as possible, and even though it didn't work on humans/monsters, it did work on any other surface and you had to wear gloves and socks all the time. But hey, at least you'd always be warm!

you had your own dorm because apparently, nearly everyone had an allergy against at least one plant in your room. closing the door, you stripped off your clothes and lay down onto the moos and grass ground, loving your ecosystem. The offsprings engulfed your limbs with open...roots? Anyway, as you closed your eyes, your mind wandered to her.

Wednesday, with her hair open, swaying beautifully in the wind.

Wednesday, who let you read her works.

Wednesday, who always bought you chocolate milk. (-Sorry I had to indulge myself there)

Wednesday, who helps you with the homework, patting your head with a satisfied smile on her face.

Wednesday, with a beautiful dress in your room.

Wednesday, who smiles at you before she is about to-

"NO!", you yelled, the flowers around you rotting. They all turned a darker, shadier shade from their original colour, and the roots and becoming thinner and thinner.

.....

....

...

..

.

...See, your feelings were connected to the living creatures of your little world. And when you felt bad, they feel bad. In other words, the flowers in your room mirrored your feelings and mood. Instantly, you apologized and calmed your breathing.

As you steadied your mind, the flowers blossomed again and you sighed. taking care of your feelings was a shit ton of work, especially when somebody- in this case something- else got hurt in the process. You stroked the green underneath you and murmured sweet nothings to your loves, smiling when they began to glow.

"I'm sorry, it's just- Wednesday...seems to like Enid even more than ...me. And here I thought I had a chance. I mean, we were together...", you chuckled dryly, laying yourself down once again.

Then, you thought about Wednesday, who'd never tell you where she went.

Wednesday, who never asked how you were, thinking that a simple pat on the shoulder or head would bring enough comfort.

Wednesday, who'd rather go out with Enid than you, because Enid was socially accepted and you...not so much.

Wednesday, who always pushed you away when you were about to hug her, or kiss her, or generally, just touch her.

Wednesday, who'd get angry when you brought earth and dirt into her side of the dorm she shared with the incomplete werewolf.

Wednesday, who once told you that your powers were useless, but your flowers were the exact reason you could find and save her.

Wednesday, who once yelled at you for taking Thing out for a walk, but Thing only wanted to spend time with you.

Wednesday, who you now seemed to realize, wasn't as hot and romantic as you thought.

Yes, the more you thought about it, the more you grew to hate that girl. But you somehow also thought more about Enid.

Actually, Enid was pretty nice. She was very polite to you, loved it when you brought in dirt, and enjoyed it when you two went out to dig in dirt and bury some bones. It was her tendency as a dog hybrid to do that and your interest to know how long it would take the earth to absorb the contents of the bone, and you two actually became close friends.

the flowers were pulsating, pulling you out of your nap and when you opened your eyes, you found a blushing Enid next to you.

"H-hey-"

"AAAAH!- WHAT THE FUCK-GET OUTTA HERE I'M NAKEDDDDD!!!!"

Yeah, that...was not so nice. Anyway, after you've quickly changed into some comfortable clothes (jeans and a tight shirt to show your abs/tits wink wonk), you opened the door, surprised that she took off her shoes and socks. you once told her that you didn't like it when people stepped on your ground with their dirty shoes, so she took your plea to heart. As she stepped in, she relished the fact that she didn't develop any allergies. and your room really was a sight. also, her animal instincts were in pure bliss.

your room smelt nice, was nice, calm and beautiful. She noticed a few butterflies here and there, worms on the ground, bees collecting nectar and much more. "Your room is so beautiful...", she whispered, scared that if she talked any louder, it would hurt the creatures in your room. you giggled and aknowledged the fact that she was talking quietly. you liked that about her. she respected you and what you loved or did.

"Thanks. Um, may I know why exactly you're here?", you asked, raising a hand for Enid to sit on a moos covered rock which errupted from the grass. It was more comfortable than any chair she's sat on. "Well, I thought that maybe...you'd like to go out sometime?", she asked, a hopefull glimmer in her eyes.

You gave her a sad smile, but the flowers all grew thorns, and Enid noticed. "Aren't you together with Wednesday now?", you asked. Was there some sort of disrespect from you at the goth girl she smelled?

Your question surprised the blonde and she waved her hand in a dismissing manner, frowning at you, her lips turned upwards. "No, we are not. I only like her as a friend. but...there is somebody else I like.", she said, standing up, coming closer to you and softly taking your hand in hers.

Oh.

"U-uhm, Enid-", you stuttered, blushing at the body contact, probably because of Wednesday. yeah, you were pretty touch starved.

"Can I hold your hand for a little longer?", she whispered, looking at you through her blonde eyelashes. Was she doing the puppy-eye? Well, it did the fucking trick.

You looked to the side while nodding and she engulfed it in both her hands. She traced soft patterns on your skin, making you shiver. Her hands were so soft and delicate and you asked youself what she could like about you.

Wednesday never told you sweet words or touched you like a lover like Enid did.

Wednesday never gave you the feeling of being extraordinary throughout the entire time you were with her like you were with Enid in these few minutes.

Wednesday seemed to have accepted your proposal out of pity.

Enid suddenly let go of your hand. "So...what do you say?", she asks, still in your comfort zone. "Sure...!", you answered, craving her touch again. However, something else cought your attention.

"But...I thought-" "No more thinking! You tend to overthink, sweetie!"

your cheeks went warm at the blonde girl's words and she realized what she said too. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, I hope it was not too much?" You only shook your head, smiling giddily at the petname you got, looking to the ground shyly.

"I...quite liked that.", you murmured, feeling bold and gently taking her hands in yours. "Would you...like to move into my dorm? You seem to be the only one to not have an allergy against my flowers."

Jeez, you felt like you were proposing to her, but at this age and these feelings, it might just be one.

As she felt your warm hands hold hers and your even warmer gaze on her face, she had a big smile etched on her face. "Yes!"

...

"Noooo, why?", Enid whined when she saw you scoop up ice with one of your french fries. You pouted at her.

"You eat pizza with pinapple pieces. let me do how I please.", you grumbled, enjoying the sweet and salty flavour.

You two were currently eating at Mcdonald's, a date, where you payed for the food and you were talking about the most random topics. It turned out that you two had a lot more in common than you thought.

"I can't believe that you still watch barbie and my little pony when you've had such a personality.", Enid remarked, grabbing your attantion from sticking more fries into your ice cream.

You looked up at her with childish wonder before beaming at her. "I only had that shitty personality when I was with her. But no more of that. I want to be...myself, you know?"

"I couldn't believe it when you let Wednesday bully you like that.", Enid suddenly exclaimed. your jaw was slack and you gulped. "Wh-what do you mean..?", you answered, frowning at her with an uneasy smile.

"She told you that you were useless, sweetie. it was you who saved her, you know? without you, Wednesday might've been dead already. And your powers are actually pretty good for the environment. And if more people had such a pure heart like yours, then the world would be a much better place."

your face scrunched up, a telltale sign that you were about to cry soon. Good thing that Enid was already done with her food, so she quickly grabbed your ice cream, the fries and your hand and went out.

The fresh air did you good after you two sat down on another rock, and you took deep, shaky breaths. Enid tried out one of the french fries which were stuck in your ice cream - sometimes you really behaved like a child - and she grew to love it.

When you turned to her after having calmed down, you couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Enid only looked at you with a confused expression, not feeling the ice on top of her upper lip. "Growing a beard I see?", you asked, touching her cheeks softly.

"Let me kiss it off of you.", you whispered softly and Enid nodded eagerly, much to your delight. you gently licked away the ice before giving her a sweet kiss-

"Enid.", Wednesday said, startling both you and the girl in your arms.

She gave Enid a death glare and you too, to which you frowned. The young Addams girl took a step forward, with you going on front of Enid protectively. "Just what the hell so you think you're doing, Enid?"

"I kissed her." "I saw. And I told her to leave you alone." "And why would she do that?"

"Because she doesn't deserve some useless nobody like you."

"You know that if it weren't for my plants, you would've been dead."

Wednesday stared at you, and you glared. "Leave us alone Wendesday. You don't even know what you want or what's best for you.", you boldly exclaimed, taking Enid's hand and leading her away from the goth girl. "I hope you'll live through a tragedy of a life, Wednesday Addams."

"Rich coming from somebody who's kissing my best friend.", the latina boldly said, provoking you with a smirk, thinking that she'd have the upper hand.

But you were tired of her bullshit. "Even richer coming from somebody,", you started while walking towards her, your eyes glowing and a slight earthquake making itself known, "who was cheating on her partner- which she couldn't even look after properly- with a fucking Hyde in human disguise!"

You grabbed her shoulders and your face was covered in plants, but you looked terrifying. Wednesday looked scared for the first time in her life and you lived for that with a wicked grin. "Stay out of my life if you know what's best for you, Wednesday. You're a toxic, lying, untrustworthy, unreliable, whorish, slutty piece of shit and if that doesn't go through your stubborn, shitty head then I have no idea what to tell you more except to tell you to fuck out of my life again!", then you let go of her. Your face twisted back to normal, you gently took your girlfriends hand and led her away from your ex.

---

How was that? I hope it was not too boring. I wanted to bring in some funny parts and I hope you guys laughed-please act like you did.

I've read this story again and I Don't think that I can write angst that good likt other authors, but I hope it was okay..

[bluesilver]

Extremely Detailed Character Sheet Template

Whatever doesn't apply to your character, you can write "does not apply", or N/A. In these sections, you could also explain why certain topics or things don't apply to your character if you feel an explanation is needed to give your character more depth.

Major Character Notes

First Note: Give your character purpose. If a character doesn't shape the plot or round out your protagonist's world in some way, then they don't add value to your story. Give them purpose, or let them go.

Second Note: Give your character agency. Power comes in all shapes and sizes. Give your character the ability to have or discover their own personal agency. This way, they can voice their truth and take action to change their world.

Character Basics

Note: Give your character a name. Showcase a time period, reveal a little about their ancestry, create a naming system for your fictional world... There are plenty of ways to give your character's name added purpose and power.

First Name:

Reason / Meaning:

Middle Name:

Last Name:

Reason / Meaning:

Reason / Meaning:

Nickname(s):

Reason / Meaning:

Alias:

Reason / Meaning:

Birth Date:

Time of Birth (morning, evening, afternoon, midnight):

Western astrological sign:

Traits Associated with Western Sign:

Chinese Zodiac Sign:

Traits Associated with Chinese Zodiac:

Sex / Gender:

Gender Identity:

Romantic Orientation:

Sexuality:

Ethnicity / Creature Type / Animal / Species:

Physical Appearance

Age:

How old does whom appear? —

Weight:

Height:

Body Shape:

Body Build:

Hands:

Face Structure / Shape:

Nose:

Mouth / Lips:

Facial Hair (or lack of facial hair):

Eye Color:

Eye Structure / Shape:

Main eyes emotion:

Glasses / Contacts:

Eyebrows:

Skin Tone:

Skin Texture:

Distinguishing Marks / Skin Details (tattoos, piercings, scars, etc.):

Predominate Features:

Hair Color:

Hair Type / Texture:

Hairstyle:

Note: Find their language. Give your character a voice. Take the time to define their unique speech patterns, vocabulary and accent. You can do this by considering how, when and where they were raised; as well their personality, experiences and level of education.

Voice (diction, accent, etc.):

Overall Attractiveness:

Physical Abilities:

General Health:

Allergies:

Chronic Illnesses:

Handicaps:

Usual Dress Fashion:

Favorite Outfit:

Jewelry / Accessories:

Weapon(s):

Tool(s):

Something always carried:

Personally

Note: Give your character a personality. Don't let your character fall flat. Take time to craft for them a rich personality that will affect their words, actions, relationships and worldview.

Good Personality Traits:

Incompetence:

Bad Personally Traits:

Prejudices:

Pet Peeves:

Note: Find their attitude. Is your character optimistic, pessimistic, or realistic? Defining your character's everyday attitude can help you better understand how they see the world, as well as how the conflicts they face throughout their journey will affect them.

Usual Mood / Attitude(s):

Sense of Humor:

Note: Find their happy place. Where is your character happiest? When do they feel most loved and accepted? Showcasing your character at their best can make their worst moments all the more impactful.

What excites them? —

What is their greatest joy in life? —

Why? —

Note: Give your character a fear. Fear shapes the human experience, creating doubts and insecurities which plague our actions, mindsets and relationships. Add a little necessary realism to your story by giving your character a few fears as well.

What is their greatest fear / Phobia(s)? —

Why? —

What single event would most likely throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? —

Stressors:

Character is most at ease when:

Character is most enraged when:

Character is most sad or depressed when:

Priorities:

Politics:

Life Philosophy:

If they could have one granted wish, what would it be? —

Why? —

Character’s Soft Spot:

Is this soft spot obvious to others? —

Greatest Strength:

Talent:

Skills:

Note: Give them a flaw. To be imperfect is to be human. Write a human story by giving your character personality flaws which play into their relationships, fears, disappointments and discontent.

Greatest Vulnerability / Weakness:

Biggest Regret:

Minor Regret:

Biggest Accomplishment:

Minor Accomplishment:

What past failures would whom be embarrassed to have others know about? —

Why? —

Character’s Darkest Secret:

Does anyone else know? —

Other Secrets:

Does anyone else know? —

Story / Goals

Story Role:

Alignment:

First Appearance:

Plot Involvement:

Note: Find their refuge. When all seems lost, a safe haven can keep hope alive for your character. Allow your character to find this refuge when they most need it. This way, they can receive the respite they need to recharge for your story's climax.

Conflict:

Note: Give your character(s) a motivation. Knowing the reason why a character chooses to pursue their goal helps readers invest in their journey, making for a captivating read.

Drives / Motivations:

Note: Give your character(s) a goal. Your character's story goal serves as the basis of their journey, helping you plot your story with clarity and purpose.

Immediate Goal:

Note: Give your character a desire. Desires are powerful motivators. They can push your character to great deeds or it can quickly tempt them to take action they'll regret.

Long-Term Goal:

How does the character plan to accomplish these goals? —

Note: Find their redemption. Your character will screw up. They will make decisions which harm themselves or others. They will fail. It's how they make things right which will define who they are at heart.

How will other characters be affected? —

Note: Find their bane. Everyone has their breaking point. Showing readers what it takes to push your character to this point will make your character's journey all the more momentous.

What types of discouragements would set back the character’s goals? —

Past

Note: Give your character a history. Our pasts shape who we become. Give your character a rich history which affects the person they are when your story begins and how they will handle the journey to come.

Time and Place (era, genera, etc.):

Hometown:

Note: Find their perspective. Perspective is the lens through which we see the world. Explore your character's upbringing, religious and political beliefs, education, social influences, and relationships to better understand their personal perspective.

Type of Childhood:

Pet(s):

First Memory:

What is the character’s most important childhood memory? —

Why? —

Special Places:

Special Memories:

Childhood Hero:

Dream Job / Career:

Education (Highest):

Employment History:

Finances:

Medical History:

Sexual History:

Religion:

Beliefs / Morals:

Superstitions:

Present

Note: Give your character a present story. Don't drown your readers in backstory. Give your character a present-day quest or journey which will keep readers invested.

Current Location (time & place):

Own or Rent:

Living Space (describe):

Currently living with:

Special Places:

Pet(s):

Religion:

Beliefs / Morals:

Superstitions:

Status:

IQ:

Degrees:

Occupation:

Work Space (describe):

Finances / Salary / Money:

Family

Mother(s):

Relationship with her:

Step / Adopted / Foster Mother(s):

Relationship with her:

Father(s):

Relationship with him:

Step / Adopted / Foster Father(s):

Relationship with him:

Step / Adopted / Half / Full Sibling(s):

Relationship with them:

Boyfriend / Girlfriend / Partner / Spouse:

Relationship with whom:

Children:

Relationship with them:

Other important family members:

Relationship with them:

Favorites

Color(s):

Least Favorite Color(s):

Music:

Food:

Literature:

Form of Entertainment:

Expressions:

Mode of Transportation:

Most Prized Possession:

Habits

Note: Give your character interests. It's exciting to meet new people who share our interests or to listen to someone talk fervently about their passion. Gift your readers this same experience by giving your character a few interests, too.

Hobby(s):

Do they keep a journal? —

Do they play a musical instrument? —

Do they play a sport? —

How would they spend a rainy day? —

How do they relax? —

Eating Habits:

Sleeping Habits:

Spending Habits:

Smokes:

Drink:

Drugs:

Addictions:

Obsessions:

Other Bad Habits:

Self Control:

What do they do too much of? —

What do they do too little of? —

What are they extremely skilled at? —

What are they extremely unskilled at? —

Note: Give your character a quirk. Everyone has their strange qualities or habits. Often times, being a bit strange is as exciting or memorable as being passionate. Help your character stand out from the crowd by giving them a quirk or two of their own.

Nervous Tics:

Usual Body Posture:

Usual Body Movement:

Mannerisms:

Peculiarities:

Handwriting:

Objects Placed In...

Purse / Bag:

Backpack:

Wallet:

Fridge:

Kitchen Cabinets:

Medicine Cabinet:

Junk Drawer:

Glove Compartment:

Bedroom Hiding Place:

Closet:

Locker:

Desk:

Work Desk:

Clothing Pockets (jacket, pants, etc.):

Traits

Note: Find their gut. Your character's gut feelings can say a lot about who they are, while also add nail-biting tension to your story that foreshadows dangers to come. Take advantage!

Optimist or Pessimist? —

Groups or Alone? —

Introvert or Extrovert? —

Leader or Follower? —

Daredevil or Cautious? —

Logical or Emotional (intelligence level)? —

Disorderly / Messy, or Methodical / Neat? (planned out or spontaneous) —

Prefers working or relaxing? —

Confident or unsure of themselves (confidence level)? —

Righty or Lefty? —

Animal Lover? —

Self-perception

Note: Find their identity. Understanding how your character defines themselves in life can help you better understand how they interact with and present themselves to the world. When defining your character's identity, consider elements such as their gender identity, race, sexuality, religion, ancestry, and interests.

How does the character feel about themselves? —

What is one word the character would use to describe themselves? —

How would the character describe themselves in one paragraph? —

What does the character consider to be their best personality trait? —

What does the character consider to be their worst personality trait? —

What does the character consider to be their best physical characteristic? —

What does the character consider to be their worst physical characteristic? —

How does the character think others perceive them? —

What would the character most like to change about themselves? —

Note: Find their glory. Your character's journey will shape the person they become. If they've changed for the better, allow readers to see how their development was worth the fight.

Relationship With Others

Note: Find their type. Who does your character gravitate toward when seeking friendships, romance, or guidance? Consider whether such relationships are truly healthy and fulfilling, as well as why your character gravitates toward such people in the first place.

What is the character’s opinion on other people in general? —

Does the character hide their opinions and emotions from others? —

What person does the character hate the most? —

Enemies:

Note: Give your character a love. Love is joy, hope and possibility. Defining who or what your character loves can reveal far more than simply what gets them out of bed in the morning.

Best Friend(s):

Love Interest(s):

Note: Find their support. Help your character weather your story's conflicts by giving them relationships with loved ones or mentors. Allow these characters to guide, encourage and challenge them throughout their journey.

What person does the character go to for advice? —

What person does the character feel they are responsible for taking care of? —

What person does the character feel awkward and shy around? —

What person does the character openly admire? —

What person does the character secretly admire? —

Who is the most important person in the character’s life before the story starts? —

Who is the most important person in the character’s life after the story starts? —

When your character falls, what person(s) can jump in to save the day? —

Other

Tricks (coin flipping, throwing one's voice, double-jointed, etc.):

Passwords:

Social Media (email address, home page, blogs, etc.):

6 Things to Make Your Character

Make your character complex. Don't stop at simply creating a well-developed character. Actively work to bring your character's complexities to life on the page by putting them in as many diverse situations as possible.

Make your character unique. It's easy to fall into stereotypes and worn-out character tropes, but don't give in. Work instead to create characters unique to your story, ones readers will instantly recognize as your own.

Make your character relatable. To relate is to create connection, to see others as human as you are. Even making the evilest of characters relatable in some small way can give your character some much needed humanity.

Make your character fail. Failure is a springboard to growth. Allowing your character to fail gives them the opportunity to learn from their mistakes and develop as human beings, creating excellent internal conflict for your story.

Make your character suffer. Take your character from the highest heights to the lowest depths. By allowing your character to suffer you prove their mettle, endear readers to their cause, and define their growth as a result of their journey.

Make your character sweat. Don't hand your character success on a silver platter. Create page-turning conflict which will keep readers reading by making your character put in the blood, sweat and tears needed to achieve their goal.

Find Your Character's Story

Completing this article should help you create strong, complex characters for your stories. But characters can't be summed up with these statements. What you truly need to make your character shine is their story.

Who are they when your story begins? What shaped them into that person. What launches them into the journey that will forever change their world? What mistakes will they make in their journey? What trials will they face? How will these trials affect who they are? What is their fight? What do they strive for? Who helps them out along the way? How will they overcome it? Most importantly, who do they become because of it all? That is your character's story? That is your character? Answering who was your character, who is your character and who will they become is what will make your character strong in one incredible story.

[forkaround]

This post by @heretherebedork got me wondering about why commentary doesn't work. This isn't just a BL thing but a universal writing thing. I think since 2016 this making commentary thing has increased in all media over all. A lot of that has to do with evolving political landscape of the world in both good and bad directions. But nothing I can say or do about that. What I am interested in is why sometimes it works and other times it doesn't.

It works in Gotham Knights, Agents of Shield, even Cutie Pie to a degree and then there are shows built upon the political landscape like The Eclipse and Not Me. It doesn't work in Supergirl, Doctor Who (13th Doctor's run), and just about most shows that try.

For me the ages of the characters on Gotham Knights, Legacies, The Eclipse, Cutie Pie make it work. With GK and LGS, they are American teens and irl a lot of Gen Z are like that and so it becomes about reflecting real life. For comparison, when TVD came out the cultural consciousness made it possible to succeed in a way it won't today. Same with Twilight. Cutie Pie and The Eclipse has the PC built into them with the gay marriage and anti-authoritarian thing respectively. Same for Not Me.

But if you look at Supergirl, it came from the comics, comic have been PC or ahead of their time a lot of the times, but as a show it's 'lessons' fall flat. Compare the Alien Immigrants storyline in Supergirl with a similar but better anti-inhuman one from Agents of Shield. The difference is when Supergirl did it, it was a one season and done thing. Whereas Agents of Shield built it up slowly over the course of multiple seasons. AoS also gave multiple opposing views on it from members of the team. Supergirl had all it's main cast agree that it's bad to treat alien's badly. Some of it is baked into the character dynamics from the get go. The Supergirl team leaders were Hank, an alien himself and Alex, Supergirl's sister. While AoS's team leader was Coulson someone with experience in spy work and someone who understands people.

On the BL side, like I said the ones that do it well get away with it because of the basic premise. The ones that fail like War of Y, which I would argue didn't fail completely, Step by Step, which has the Supergirl problem, do so because of weak writing. With WoY, given the subtitles and overall quality I didn't expect much. The Commentary has stilted dialogue but so does the rest of the show. Same with House of Stars. It fails but doesn't stand out as egregious.

To Conclude: Some advice as an author,

if you are going to include PC into your story either bake it into the premise or don't make it stand out.

Also it's always good to have opposing views, good and bad. Try to make things as round and without edges as possible.

The characters should be talking to each other, not to the audience. or worse, at the audience.

Don't rely on woke points to propel your story.

It's a story, a narrative first, commentary second.

[thecoffeelorian]

Overwatch, Chapter 2

Inspired by ASMR

SFW

Word Count: 1.6k

2 of 5 Chapters

Created for TBBAW 2023 @tbb-appreciation-week

DAY 5: CROSSHAIR

Hiding face in Neck

Characters: Crosshair and Omega, aka You are Omega because the usual 'x reader' tag will not work here.

Tags: Grieving, Smoking

Tag List: @groguandthebadbatch

AO3: Click Here

"...Tech?!"

Instead, you find yourself straight on the border between speaking clearly about everything that took place, about being within tethering distance of him and yet unable to do anything but watch as he let go of the load weighing your squad down, and turning into the same sobbing, shaking mess that you became the moment you learned the truth.

"What happened? Is he safe? Is he all—"

"—He's gone."

Somehow, though, in spite of your pain threatening to spill out of you like it would to any other girl of thirteen cycles...you just barely keep yourself together. The guards here like to punish the ones who protest too loudly, so it's not much of a stretch to figure out what they would do to anybody who bursts into tears and begs for their Sergeants.

What they could easily do to you without a second thought.

This is why you're able to explain to Crosshair exactly what went down on Eriadu with the same level of military bearing you've seen your own Sergeant demonstrate, and hopefully, with the same sort of calm demeanor that won't suggest to anyone you're an easy target.

Wouldn't Hunter be impressed?

Once you've gone past your narrow escape off of that horrible planet and into the ambush on Ord Mantell, though...well, that's when a few tears start slipping down your cheeks, even if you don't make a sound to accompany them. Your sense of shock might have worn off, all right, but the pain probably never will.

"...You're sure?"

"Yes. I heard what he said before he left us. I watched him fall. He's gone, Cross."

There's only silence now, a lack of words between you and Crosshair while the somewhat natural sounds of water dripping from rock faces and the occasional round of footsteps echo in the distance. In a way, it's only fair, because…because silence is a lot better than the two of you arguing, or yelling, or flat out turning your backs on one another.

A lot better than last time, or so you want to believe.

At least, not until you hear the dry sob coming from Crosshair’s direction.

"Well. There goes yet another brave young soldier, marching off into the dark."

Now, there's a stab of pain in your throat that you know didn’t come from any change in temperature, or virus, or strange thing you didn’t normally eat every day. It’s from the hollow sound of your cellmate’s voice as he processes the devastating news, and yet has nothing to offer in response other than regurgitated Republic slogans. Is that really all he has to say about the loss of his own brother…?

"We should all hope for a death as honorable as his...right?"

No.

No, you don't want to think about that now. It's becoming a bit too late for you to concentrate clearly, for you're feeling your mind start to fog up from your own grief. Grief, and fear, and possibly a bit of lasting pain from your injuries on the side.

"Or you could give me a hug."

Instead, you decide to do what you pretty much may have always done since you first left home.

Try to make a connection.

"A what...?"

"A hug, Crosshair. It's what people do to comfort each other when things go wrong."

There's a sigh in the darkness across from you, an image in your own mind of this sniper rolling his eyes at your request...then, you feel the tip of his finger tapping at your arm.

"...Fine. Come on over, I'm just straight ahead."

You feel his hand clasping loosely at your own, a dry, calloused thing that seems to be little else than cold skin and bones—and yet, you're silently glad that it's him, and not one of these 'doctors' or other sad excuses for medical personnel. Better him than just one more stranger who wants to turn you into their next experiment.

"So...like this?"

In fact, though he pulls you in a little closer with some hesitation, you're certainly feeling some relief once you're allowed to hide your face in his neck, even if for just a minute or two. He doesn't smell like antiseptic, at least...not like that Hemlock. You'd be very pleased if you never had to smell antiseptic again. You do, however, smell a little dried sweat, stale smoke, and something metallic coming from him, although you’re not about to make any foolish reactions about it so soon. Truth be told, you’re happier for this small moment of bonding than you are over the concept of ‘personal hygiene’.

"Yep. Not bad for your first try."

"Heh. That’s one thing I’m good at, I suppose. Still…"

That happiness doesn't last very long, though, because the next thing you know, he's nudged you back toward your bunk and back into your own wavering grief. Shame...you were starting to get used to the idea of not mourning Tech all by yourself.

"...We're gonna need some light."

At this same time, he was never one for giant emotional displays, so...perhaps it’s just as well. He’s got to do something important now, anyway, something like...lighting a very small lamp resting somewhere to your right. Is it only to add some light in here, you wonder, or will it bring in a little heat as well? Oh, how you hope that this will be so. You can only handle your own teeth chattering for so long.

"Or, should I say, I'm going to?"

But if that wasn't curious enough for you, then his next action certainly is. Once that lamp is good and flickering, its light spreading quickly across the floor and walls of your cell, he wastes no time in using the open flame upon what you can only describe as a death-stick.

"Surprise. I use them to trade for bread...mostly. The rest of the time, I save them for a little 'alternative medicine'."

It's not the first time you've seen anyone smoke during your travels, for a great many humans and humanoids did just that on Ord Mantell alone. You also saw a few on Coruscant, Bracca, and a few planets you’ve already forgotten the names of take smoke breaks as well, so it’s not exactly out of the ordinary. It is, however, the first time anyone you know decided to light one up, so...maybe that’s why you find yourself turning away from the foul-smelling smoke, not wanting to inhale so much as a single puff.

"Nasty, isn’t it…? Too bad. These count as credits, so you might want to start collecting a few. Who knows when they might be useful?"

"Hunter wouldn't approve."

A weakened, rough round of cold laughter slowly spills out of Crosshair, but not before a quieter round of coughing follows.

"Oh, I don't think Hunter's opinion counts around here, do you? What, is he coming to give us all a lecture?"

"That's not what I meant—"

"—Doesn't matter."

Whatever calm or patience he might have had in his voice before is gone now, and in his place, you almost believe yourself to be looking at the old Crosshair all over again. He certainly was the person you saw back on Kamino, so this version could easily be making a comeback.

"He's not in charge of this room, he's not in command of this floor, and I know he's nowhere close to being in comm range."

He takes a long inhale of the death stick and all of the poisons it holds; then proceeds to breathe out a small curtain of smoke only centimeters from where you're standing. A few seconds later, you're the one who coughs as soon as the smoke reaches your nose and mouth.

"So...why in the world would anyone here, myself included, bother with his stupid little demands?"

You can't answer right away. The strength of the smoke has made your eyes water on the spot, and with it, you almost wonder if it's going to choke you to death.

"Pfff...use that wet rag in the corner. It'll clear your vision."

Vision. Sure. It's almost one big joke that he's bothering to help you with it tonight. Especially since going back to his old habits seems to be a lot easier for him, never mind a bit more enjoyable.

Nevertheless...it works.

Once you’ve taken the rag out of the bowl of water it arrived in—a thing left lying on the floor in place of a sink, though not a very good replacement for a refresher—you’re able to see a bit better without your eyes smarting. As a few seconds gradually tick by, your throat stops itching as much. A shame that rag couldn't help rid you of any bigger problems, such as the amount of guards patrolling the hallway...or, for that matter, your cellmate's attitude.

"I meant I won’t be here long enough to trade anything."

Still, you're not about to fall for his attempts to rile you up. To rephrase the words of a wise sapper, you’re better than that.

"Or for that matter, to take up smoking. Our squad will be here long before then."

" 'Our squad, our squad'...bold words coming from somebody who’s going to be dragged off to Hemlock any day now."

Then again, he’s not exactly backing down against you, either.

In fact, you’re seriously beginning to wonder if he’s merely doing this to liven things up, or stranger still, if he actually wants you to start a fight with him.

"What exactly makes you think you’ll live that long, anyway…? It’s not like you have an arsenal of weapons all to yourself, now, is it?"

Try as he might, though, you're still not going to rise to the bait.

Not when you already know who your real enemies are, and he's no longer on that list.

"No...but I know quite a few Troopers who do."

[justviwriting]

'Memories'

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Characters: Siena Rosso Pairing: (mentioned) Anthony/Siena Rating: T (mention of sex work) Words: 1.500 Summary: Several weeks after Siena had pushed the Viscount out of her life, she struggles with her own feelings. A/N: After binge-watching Brigderton recently and falling in love with Siena, I had to write something about her. It turned out a lot sadder than I originally intended but well … I love some angst. As always, English is not my native language, so there might be some mistakes in here. Also, idk if that guy Siena was with in the end has a name (I couldn’t find anything when I checked) so I just made one up for this story.

[you can also read it on AO3]

The place was empty and quiet as she entered her flat, just as it had been the past few days and would be for another two weeks. Her new gentleman, Sir Williams, had left town on a family-based matter, and while Siena did not dislike some peace at times, this was simply not one of those times.

It had been almost two months since she had pushed the Viscount Bridgerton away and out of her life, and it appeared to have been the last time as well. He had not shown up on her doorstep again since then, neither had she seen his face at the opera. It did not surprise her, as she had made certain he would not dare to come back to her, though she would neither have been surprised had he tried to do so nonetheless. She was glad, however, as it meant that finally, he might have moved on, and she no longer had to fear she might yield once more, in spite of reason.

Genevieve had told her that it was natural she would grieve a relationship she had lost, even if she had been the one to make the final cut. Her friend had never trusted the Viscount much, had warned Siena in the very beginning that it would be a mistake, but to Siena’s dismay she had not listened, blindly trusting someone because she had been deluded by love. Still, Genevieve had offered her an open ear and a stale drink, and as thankful as Siena was to have a friend like her, she had never been one to sulk in her own misery.

She took off her shawl and hat and went into the living room to light a fire and perhaps read a good book to occupy her mind before going to bed. She took one of the matches and lightened it, throwing it into the dry branches that already lay inside the open fireplace. As the small flames began to grow, the warmth slowly reached her cold face and the crackling of the burning wood filled the silence of the empty rooms. Somehow, the presence of Sir Williams had given her the opportunity to not ingulf too much in feelings of loss and pain. He had been a good distraction, and that was why she missed his presence even more now and hoped he would return sooner than he had told her. In the last few days since he had left, her mind had been haunted by memories she had tried to reject, memories not too far gone. She could still see Anthony’s pained face in front of her, right there in the growing fire, and could hear his words, asking for forgiveness, in the crackling wood that echoed through the room, his voice begging. If he appeared at her doorstep now, with the same face and voice and words, she knew she would not hesitate a second to take him back in. But she also knew that it would not change nor solve anything, just end in another round of misery, and she kept reminding herself of that, hoping it would make those memories fade.

Siena did not regret what she had done. She knew it was for the better. When she had met the Viscount, and when she had let him into her bed, she had been intoxicated with joy and pleasure. She had found a man who would care for her, but beyond that, a man she had wanted to spend every second of her time with, and a man who – despite his faults – she had known loved her. Their relationship had been all she had ever wanted for herself, more than she would have ever allowed herself dream. And she had been happy, only the lack of time bothering her, wishing he would spend all his days and nights with her. Then he had gone and betrayed her, betrayed her trust, and her heart. She had damned him then, sworn to herself she would find someone else, someone better. Eventually, she had granted him her forgiveness, though he had never regained her trust. In the end, he had never wanted a mistress, she had come to realise. While Siena had been happy and content, that had not been the case for him, not fully. His happiness might have been with her, but not with the situation they had found each other in. He had always wanted more and Siena simply could have never given him that. It would’ve been so much easier had he just accepted their positions in life. They could’ve spent the rest of their days together.

Sir Williams was fundamentally different. She would not deceive herself by believing that she loved him - she did not - but she liked him well enough. And in the end, love had put her into this bleakness in the first place. He enjoyed the arts and music as much as she did. They had many common interests and he was a nice presence, and a pleasure to talk to. He was a decent man too, kind and caring. Of course, he knew what the foundation of their relationship was. Unlike with the Viscount, it was not built on love and lust. It was a simple exchange of favours, but there was still pleasure in it, and Siena could tell that he was a lonely man who was simply looking for some intimacy and care. And he clearly admired her. Perhaps this was better than love. She knew he would never betray her, and that she could trust him.

The flames had grown higher, heating up the room, causing Siena’s mind to shift to a different memory the familiar warmth and smell conjured. Many months ago, in a different flat, paid for her by the Viscount, a similar fireplace. They had lain next to it, covered in sweat, the heat burning on their bodies, but not enough to keep them apart. Those were the memories that had filled her mind as well in the past few days. Laughter in her dressing room at the opera, occasionally disrupted by them reminding each other to keep it quiet so no one would hear, only for it to continue seconds later. His hands on her, in an empty corridor, so forceful yet gentle at the same time. Their legs intertwined as if they belonged together forever. Kisses over her body, letting her forget every worry and fear in the world.

As she stared into the fire, she felt her face burning up, so she turned away. She went to the window to open it for some fresh air, yet as she approached, she suddenly froze. She stared at herself in the reflection of the window glass, noticing a single tear falling down her face. Shocked that she had not even noticed, she then angrily washed it away with her hand. She did not need to feel sadness, not right now. Perhaps, one day, she could mourn as Genevieve had suggested. Perhaps, one day, she will look back at those memories with fondness, remembering them as good times that had come to an end. But now, she could not allow herself to. She had given this world that would not care for her feelings enough of her vulnerability already.

Forcefully, she opened the window and the cool air hit her face. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, hoping it would clear her mind. Perhaps it could have worked out. Perhaps she could have been at his side, publicly. Perhaps, he would have come to the realisation that it could not work the way he had wanted and they could have gone back to what they had shared originally. But Siena did not have the privilege of time and blind trust. In the end, she was the one who would have to pay the price. The Viscount had all the freedom this life could grant someone. He could take his mistress to a ball, and no one would say a thing to him, but the mistress would have to bear the shame. He could leave the mistress when it suited him, and nothing would change for him, but the mistress would be ruined and without stability. She did not think he had ever fully understood this. Or maybe he had and she misjudged him, but she could not rely on it, as he had proven to her before.

Love was not enough, she had realised. All those great love stories one could read about, yet the most famous of all was Romeo and Juliet. Siena had performed it about a hundred times, never understanding why people called it a love story. How could an ending so tragic, a story so sad, translate into love? Now she understood. Perhaps, somewhere out there, there was love without tragedy, but never tragedy without love. And sadly, no one knew which one they had found themselves in until it is too late.

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Better Devils of our Nature

I saw someone making bad - sometimes disingenuous - arguments against Pathfinder 2nd Ed, and I'd like to rip up his arguments and post better ones.

He argued that the feat system guided people into a standard "optimal rotation" that felt very samey round to round, battle to battle.

He said that while environmental effects might lead a party to alter their actions a little bit for a round, they'd usually fall into their standard almost immediately.

There are two things that don't sit right about this. First, the rotation he described isn't optimal. Like, his math is just wrong. Attacking 3 times in a row in Pathfinder is the best move IF you're one of the higher DPS characters in the party AND the enemy's already been set up for you to slam dunk (for instance, you start your turn already in position for your attacks AND the enemy's flat-footed to you). The rest of the time, performing the setup to do the damage or defend your own side is usually better. Now that I think of it, this is similar to in card games where you go, "Wait, do I have lethal? Oh, I do, I can just attack with everyone." That's when you full attack. If you don't have lethal, you improve your board state. For instance if you're in melee against a monster without attacks of opportunity you may want to step back after 2 attacks so that it has to waste an action getting into melee. You yield a bit of damage potential to deny the monster a third attack.

That leads me nicely into my second issue with it: In a TTRPG what's involved in "improving your board state" depends on the shape of the board. This means a "standard rotation" is just not good! Most of the time as a ranger you'll want to start by Hunter's Marking something but after that? Shoot, find cover, hide? Back up to avoid Volley penalty, shoot, mark new enemy if it dies? There's a set of good actions but which one's optimal now depends on the actual battlefield circumstances, which makes them good gameplay actually.

The better argument to me is that players are likely to settle into rotations if they get confused and want something stable, and they might not think to come back out of the rotation mode (even if they mechanically should for minmaxy reasons!) when circumstances change. This is in some ways similar to players of Civ games constantly using the same winning strat against moderate AI and wondering why the game doesn't feel as fun as it used to. This isn't necessarily the fault of Pathfinder 2nd Ed as a set of mechanics. But it is a valid concern, and something to keep an eye out for at your table if you're running P2E.

Bah, just the one argument and better argument is enough of a post. I'm not sure I have much more of value to say in any case, so I'll let it be here.

[princessnijireiki]

it's honestly disturbing my spirit that we finally got a recent sci fi/fantasy film with surrealist elements ft christian bale and natalie portman in it but that damn monkey's paw curled up into a fist bc the movie was fucking thor: love and thunder

[nomsugayoongi]

Make up/Make Out!

Pairing: Jungkook X OC fem

Warnings: It's just smut. Pure smut. 🔞

A/N: Written and edited on a phone so please forgive any mistakes. Suggestions for more are very welcome and also thoughts. Let me know what you think.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Am I good to finish for the night?"

She'd been on her feet all day. As make up and hair assistant to one of the most popular groups on the planet, her job consisted of being ready at any moment, day or night, to get the guys of BTS camera ready. Today had been a particularly heavy day. Photoshoots and zoom interviews. You would have thought a global pandemic would have slowed her workload right down but apparently not. The boys were just as busy as ever, determined to remain a presence even when the world was falling apart.

"I'm not sure actually. I think one of the guys is maybe doing a live. Shouldn't take long, just a touch up. Let me go check." Another assistant hurried off, leaving her in what had been dubbed the "ready room" She sighed, sorting the array of make up products strewn on the counter into each boys respective make up bag. 7 individual colour palettes. 7 skin tones. 7 favoured brands. She'd been doing it long enough now that she didn't have to think anymore. Jimin's chapstick in one bag. Hobi's concealer in another. She was tired and frustrated. 16 months of a global lockdown meant she was now living in the guys home in the staff wing. Apart from video calls, she hadn't seen anyone and wasn't able to leave really. On the odd occasion when she did have to accompany the guys somewhere, she was subjected to regular covid tests. It was all just a little overwhelming. Like much of the planet, she was beginning to feel a little stir crazy.

The door opened and the assistant from earlier poked her head round. "Jungkook is doing a live. He's on his way down now. Can you handle it or do you want me to stay?" She could see the hopeful look in her colleagues eye that she could go for the night. Sighing inwardly, she nodded. "I'm good. Enjoy the rest of the night. I'll see you in the morning." She said, faking a smile. An immediate thankful grin was aimed in her direction before her co-worker quickly dissapeared. She sighed again, picking out Jungkooks bag and rifling though it. A V Live wasn't as intense as actual interviews. She'd maybe need to touch up his foundation and neaten his hair. With any luck she could be done in 10 minutes.

She was just about finished setting up when the door opened again. She turned with a welcoming smile but frowned a little as he walked in. His hair was wet, a towel still slung around his shoulders, face completely bare. "Have you just showered?" She muttered. He nodded, strolling over to his favourite chair and slumping in it. "Yeah. I wasn't going to bother with a live but it's been ages and I miss ARMY. Plus I feel kind of restless tonight." He explained. She nodded, a little frustrated that she'd have to entirely redo his face and hair. So much for 10 minutes. But it was her job after all. "So what are we doing?" She questioned, walking up behind him and leaning on the chair, a hand either side of his shoulders. He shrugged, looking at her through the mirror in front of him. "Whatever you want. Just make me look ok for the live." He replied. She chuckled slightly, studying him through the mirror. "You already look ok for the live. But I'll dry your hair. It's freezing in the office. Can't have you catching a cold." She smiled. He chuckled, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his baggy cargo pants and loading up a game. She smiled a little more. Typical Jungkook.

She got to work, removing the damp towel from around his shoulders, tossing it aside and reaching for the hairdryer. It didn't take long to dry. His hair was fine but he had a lot of it and luckily he didn't bleach it into the ground like some of his band mates so it was pretty healthy. Once dried, it was soft and shiny, falling prettily around his face. "Want it straightening?" She asked, digging her fingernails between the dark brown strands at the crown of his head and ruffling it slightly. His hair naturally had a slight wave to it. He had dropped his phone into his lap and his eyes were closed. He liked the slight scratch of her fingernails. It felt nice. "Hmm?" He muttered. "Oh..yeah. Straighten it." He opened his eyes with a sigh. "Are you alright?" She asked softly. "Yeah. Bit of a headache. The scratching was nice." He replied, a small smile playing around his lips. She chuckled, setting down the hairdryer and diving her fingers into his hair, raking her nails lightly across his scalp. Head massage wasn't exactly part of her job description but she had a soft spot for Jungkook. Her tummy filled with warmth as his head to lolled forward and he grumbled softly, eyes closing again. She couldn't help but smile, pressing her fingers to his temples and rubbing in slow circles. "Do you need painkillers?" She asked softly. He grumbled again but shook his head a little. "Nah. Already feels a bit better." He muttered. "Tension headache?" She questioned. "Probably." She diverted her rubbing to his hairline, digging her thumbs into the nape of his neck. His head rolled heavily against her hand, a relieved moan slipping past his parted lips. She watched him in the mirror, her stomach churning as she studied him. Reminding herself that she was working, she reluctantly dropped her hands, reaching for the straighteners. "So... we're straightning." She muttered. He cleared his throat, correcting his posture where he'd slumped down the chair. "Yeah." He nodded.

She ran the flat irons through his hair, alternating between looking at what she was doing and glancing at him through the mirror. "What are we doing with your face?" She questioned, applying a conditioning spray to his already silky soft hair, just so that the heat from the straighteners didn't make it frizzy. "Just make me look good." he said with a shrug. She grinned, picking up a clean powder brush, she spun him round to face her and booped the end of his nose with the brush. "Done" she smiled. He laughed, nose crinkling adorably. "You literally didn't do anything." She shrugged, placing the brush back on the counter. "You don't need anything doing." She said simply. He rolled his eyes, his ears turning pink. "I look like shit." He huffed. She was silent for a second, eyes flicking across his face. His hair was perfect, shiny and soft, skimming his large brown doe eyes. His nose was cute. His lips were full and though slightly chapped, kind of perfect too. Without foundation to soften his features, his jawline looked sharper. His skin was pretty good, the lack of make up making the cute moles dotted around his face clearer. The scar on his right cheek was more noticable but it gave his face character. "You really, really don't." She replied.

He shuffled shyly, fiddling with the phone abandoned on his lap. "I do. I look...plain. I can't go on camera like this." He muttered. She sighed, perching on the back of the sofa next to her. "Jungkook, you couldn't look plain if you tried. Trust me, if your ARMY see you like this they will lose their damn minds." She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. He glanced up at her, eyebrow hitching curiously. "See me like what?" He muttered. She shrugged, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the things she didn't seem to be able to stop herself from saying. "Like...you. As you are. You've got that...thing...going on." She huffed. "What thing?" She rolled her eyes. "You know what thing. You give off heavy boyfriend energy. Especially when you look like this." She mumbled. He laughed, looking at her more intently. "Boyfriend energy?" She chuckled too, her face feeling hotter than she'd like. "Yeah. You know, that whole duality thing. It's cute. But it's sexy too." She babbled. "You think I'm sexy?" His eyebrows raised, his lips fighting a smile. "As your make up artist, I don't think anything." She chuckled. "And as you?" He questioned. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to look into his pretty eyes. "As me? I think you're one of the most confusing men I've ever met." She replied. His gaze was intense, forcing her to speak even though she wasn't actually sure she wanted to. "Confusing how?" He asked quietly.

She thought for a minute then shrugged. "Confusing in the way you play absolute havok with a woman and don't even seem to notice that you're doing it. You're such a contradiction. You're sweet and cute and warm. You're...soft and cuddly. The kind of guy who you want to snuggle and play with his hair as he sleeps. But you also have the ability to absolutely blow that out of the water and turn into this whole other creature. This...sinfully hot, dripping in sex appeal, gyrating menace. And you seem to be able to flip from one to the other and back in literally seconds. You're hormonal whiplash guy. One minute you wanna cuddle him, the next you wanna fuck him senseless, then back to cuddling. Confusing. But either way, whether you're cuddle guy or sexy guy, you're compeltely disarming. Captivating even." She paused, blushing at the heated expression on his perfect face. "So...you don't have to worry about what ARMY think. However you rock up, you're good." She finished with an awkward shrug. "Anyway, if you want me to do your face properly for the camera I will." She said, standing up off the back of the sofa and heading for her make up brushes.

"Woah. Hang on a minute. You can't just say all that and then pretend you didn't. Are you attracted to me?" He asked, smirking slightly, sexy guy definitely rearing his head. She tried her damnedest not to look at him. "Umm...you're attractive, yeah." She shrugged. "That's not what I asked." He hummed. "We've been in lockdown for 16 months. Everyone's attractive right now." She joked, trying to divert the gaze currently burning a hole through her professionalism. "You keep dodging the question." He pushed. She sighed, dropping the beauty blender she was currently picking apart and turning to him. "Yeah, I'm attracted to you. A large portion of the globe is attracted to you." She shrugged. "Yeah but I wasn't asking the globe. I asked you." He replied. "Well I answered. So are we doing your make up or no? It's late." She sighed, flustered. The way he was looking at her made her squirm. Curiously, but with something darker going on behind those doe eyes. "I don't know if I'm attracted to you. I've never thought about it." He muttered. She swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at him. "I didn't ask." She shrugged. "Yeah but after what you said, I can't just ignore it." He sat back in the chair, studying her. Her stomach twisted nervously. "You're cute. Short. I like that. You have nice hair. And your eyes are really pretty." He said absently, as though not actually talk to her, just assessing. She shuffled uncomfortably, her cheeks burning. "I like you. I'm just...not good at this sort of thing. I started training for BTS when I was 15. It didn't leave me a whole lot of time or opportunity to figure out the whole dating thing." He said, a hint of shyness dripping into his voice. "Oh please, I've seen you on stage. You can flirt like a pro." She scoffed. "Flirt, yeah. When it's empty. I can do it when I know it's not going anywhere. Flirting on stage isn't real. I'm not good when it is real." He shrugged. "I dunno...maybe we should...kiss..or something." He babbled. She gawped at him stupidly. "Easiest way to figure out what's going on here." He said, another shrug indicating his nerves. She swallowed, nodding slightly. "Ok." She didn't even really think about the answer, it just fell out.

He stood, shaking his hair out if his eyes, alternating between jamming his hands in his pockets and taking them out again. He was too cute. A kind of deer in the headlights look about him. The confidence he exuded on stage was nowhere near. He looked nervous. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them. Her heart was racing. He kept his hands limply by his sides as he inched forward, his eyes closing, a slight hitch of breath as his nose bumped hers then gently he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were warm and soft with just a hint of rough where they were chapped. Her heart rate doubled pretty much instantly, even at the lingering, closed mouthed peck. They weren't even really kissing but her stomach fluttered wildly. He shuffled a little closer, catching her bottom lip then the top lip then slowly opening his mouth a little more. His hands moved, running his fingertips up her arm, to her shoulder then resting on her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw. The other hand sat comfortably on her hip, pulling her into him just a little more. She sighed against his lips, her insides going nuts as her arms snaked around his narrow waist. Cautiously, he licked at her top lip, gauging her reaction. She opened up, allowing him to slide his tongue past her lips. A quiet involuntary moan escaped her. He tasted of sweetness and biscuit and she idly wondered if he'd been eating Pocky recently. The hand sat against her hip gripped a little harder. He exhaled heavily through his nose as his tongue caressed hers. He hummed against her mouth, withdrawing his tongue but still taking her lips in deep, lingering kisses, almost like he couldn't quite force himself to stop. With a long sigh, he pulled back, just enough to seperate their lips but still close enough for his nose to nudge hers. "Ok. Yeah. Definitely feel it." He whispered. Her eyes opened, her head fuzzy as she gazed at him with a mixture of affection and desire. She didn't even notice that he was looking at her the same way. He ran his fingers through her hair, a smile breaking onto his kiss reddened lips. She giggled dopily, forehead against his, heart skipping a beat at his responding giggle.

"Don't you need to go do a live?" She grinned. He shook his head, fingers entwining with hers. "It can wait till tomorrow. I just want to keep kissing you." His lips were on hers again before she could even process his reply. She moaned softly, melting against him. He felt sturdy and warm, he smelled amazing. He tasted delicious. He was almost too good. Her head swam at the feel of his tongue in her mouth, exploring, licking and tasting, possessing. He was literally making her weak at the knees. Her grip on him tightened, clutching at his steady frame to keep herself upright, genuinely worried that the depth of his heady kiss was going to send her slithering to the floor. She was just about managing to keep a tentative grasp on her composure until his lips left hers and started fluttering along her cheek, stopping just below her ear to suck the delicate skin there. A shiver bolted down her spine, her head rolling aside to give him more access. He moaned quietly against her neck, teeth nipping her skin. She gasped, another shiver errupting through her. "Damn it Jungkook" she whispered. She didn't know what she was damning. Everything? Nothing? It just seemed to be the only words she could claw from her addled brain. He bit a little harder, instantly soothing the slight burst of pain with a slow, tender lick of his soft, warm tongue. Her fingers knotted through his hair, dragging his head back so she could attack his mouth. He groaned against her lips, pressing his hips against her. She pulled his head back, her eyes locking on his. "You need to stop. I'm too horny for this shit." She panted, kissing along his jawline. He bit his lip, hand cradling the back of her head as her lips and tongue skimmed across his throat. "I can do something about that if you want." He murmured. She moaned again, temptation burning hot at her core. "Fuck" she hissed. He pulled her back from the assault she was carrying out on his neck. "Do you have a room mate?" He asked, brown eyes smouldering. She shook her head. "Where's your room?"

She could hardly believe how her night was turning out as she tried to make it to her room with some semblance of normality. Especially with Jungkook in tow. Luckily it was late enough that nobody was still wandering around in the hallways so the fact that she looked like she was about to eat him wasn't an issue. Arriving at her room, she'd barely closed the door behind them when he was back on her, pressing her into the door, lips on hers, hands wondering to her shirt, stopping the kiss barely long enough to pull it over her head before his tongue was back in her mouth. His hands agaisnt the door, either side of her head, boxing her in as he held her still with his body. She could already feel the uncomfortable ache between her thighs, heat pooling inside her making her squirm. How the fuck could he get her so riled up just by kissing her?

His lips moved down, back to the spot on her neck he seemed to enjoy biting, his teeth nipping and sucking once again. He was going to leave a mark and she absolutely didn't care. She hoped he did. She hoped he left several. If it meant he didn't stop, she'd happily have him suck and bite his initials into her skin if he wanted. His lips travelled further down, hands lifting off the door to cup her boobs, pushing them up and groaning in his throat as he licked languidly down her cleavage. He used his thumbs to tease her bra clad nipples, nipping and sucking at the swell of her ample breasts. She pushed his hair back, staring at him opened mouth as he moved her bra aside and wrapped his lips round her nipple. She moaned softly, biting her lip. He sucked deeply, the pull travelling straight down to her pussy, causing her clit to throb needily. His fingers tugging and rolling her other nipple. She wriggled desperately against the solid wooden door. He switched sides, giving the other nipple the same attention, his mouth felt hot and wet, tongue flicking quickly then slowly, then sucking then nibbling. Each gesture making her pussy clench.

She didn't know how much more she could take. The needy ache was becoming overpowering. Luckily he seemed to sense it, his hands slipping down, flicking the button of her jeans open. He eyed her quickly, requesting permission which was granted with an almost frantic nod. He smirked, hooking his fingers into her jeans and pushing them over her hips teasingly slowly. Her underwear went with them, balling together round her ankles. She couldn't even think enough to kick them off. He stood, leaning against the door with one hand, his eyes on hers as his fingers trailed lightly across her stomach then down, grazing her inner thigh. His smirk was torturous, knowing exactly what she needed and purposefully grazing but giving no relief. "Don't be a brat." She panted. He chuckled darkly, his fingers circling her bellybutton, the tickle making her abdomen clench. "This is what I was talking about. The duality. I like you more when you're being a bunny." She hissed. He laughed again. "No you don't." He muttered, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. "You've waited 16 months. What's an extra two minutes?" He smirked, his fingers once again playing around her inner thigh. "Jungkook I swear to god, I'm just gonna do it myself in a minute." She growled. He rolled his eyes, chuckling breathlessly. "Ok ok. Jesus."

He licked his lips, his smirk faltering as his fingers grazed her slit. "Fuck, you're already wet." He moaned. "Duh, I've been wet since you kissed me in the other room." She whispered. He bit his lip, groaning deeply, his fingers pushing through her folds, finding her clit quickly and circling. The ache tightened in her belly, her knees buckling. He dipped his fingers down against her hole, smearing her own sticky liquid around his fingertips before moving back up to her clit, his index and ring fingers parting her folds while his middle finger gently rubbed her sensative bud. Her breath shuddered, eyes closing as she swallowed thickly. Her head fell back, banging against the door. She was so turned on that his touch almost burned, so sensative already. He maintained a steady pace with his fingers, dipping back down occasionally to recover them in the fluid now leaking from her hole to make the glide of his fingertips smoother. She could barely breath. The stimulation of his careful touch on her clit was almost unbearable, causing the needy ache of her pussy to increase rapidly. She needed to be stretched and filled, her thoughts lost in how his fingers would feel slipping in and out of her greedy hole. Or better yet, his hard cock. She groaned, eyes rolling back as she felt his lips back on her neck. She gripped at his hair, inhaling through clenched teeth. "Jungkook, I need you to fuck me." She whined. He moaned, biting her neck again. "I'm going to. Just not yet." He muttered. She growled pathetically, writhing against the door as he maintained the steady torture with his fingers. She couldn't keep her hands still, grabbing at his hair and his shoulder and the door frame as the pleasure built from a subtle warmth to a searing heat, creeping though her limbs and making her weak. "Fuck...I can't.." she choked, not actually knowing what the end of the statement was. Can't stand it. Can't function. Can't breath. Can't wait. The gradual build of her orgasm was now rushing towards her with alarming speed, every careful brush of his fingertips nudging her closer. "Ahhh. Jungkook...fuck" she huffed. He smirked, lifting his head from her neck to kiss her.

It didn't fit. She expected him to ravage her mouth. He didn't. He kissed her softly, his tongue dancing across her lips, barely any pressure, his free hand coming up to stroke her cheek. Emotional whiplash man in full effect. The action of his fingers was making her wild but his kiss was sweet and soothing. It felt so strange to be kissed that way while being held on the very edge of an orgasm. The way he kept the same steady pace was vicious. She wanted him to speed up, go harder, follow the flow of her building release but he didn't. The slow build drew out her pleasure, his pace maddening. A rush of heat flooded through her, stilling her lips against his mouth, making her gasp for air as every muscle in her body constricted. She could hear her own pleasured wails but they didn't sound like any kind of noise she'd ever made before. Her eyes screwed shut, back arching off the door as her orgasm hit violently, heat coursing from her core and seeping though the rest of her body. She panted helplessly, spots dancing in front of her eyes, her muscles slowly realising. When her knees went, he had an arm around her waist to hold her up. "I've got you." He whispered, kissing her jawline softly. His fingers slowed as she began to shudder, instead moving to trace light, ticklish patterns on her thigh. Her head flopped heavily against his shoulder, fingers gripping at his back like he was the only thing keeping her in one piece. She didn't even notice him moving her until she felt herself sinking heavily into her bed. He laid beside her, chin resting in his hand as he smiled, using the other hand to move her hair off her face. She was quiet for a few minutes, slowly calming her ragged breathing down, enjoying the blissful tingles fading out. When her eyes could focus enough, she looked at him and whined quietly, her heart thumping painfully. He was beyond beautiful. A shaky hand lifted to brush a few strands of dark brown hair away from his pretty eyes. "Wow" she whispered. He chuckled, staring back at her. "You can sleep if you want to. I don't mind." He said softly, noticing her still dozy expression. She shook her head. "Don't wanna sleep. Just need a minute." She muttered. "Kiss me."

He did so immediately. She felt liked she'd kissed him so much yet it wasn't even nearly enough. He was the kind of guy you could lose hours of every day just attached to his face. It was something she would never tire of. Her fingers ran through his hair, sighing against his perfect lips. In her post orgasm haze, she just felt soft for him. Everything about him was so enticing, the pull of him overwhelming. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She gripped him tighter than she needed to, suddenly afraid of what would happen when the night was over. He broke the kiss, frowning at her slightly. "What's wrong?" He whispered, fingers trailing across her swollen lips. She kissed his fingertips, holding onto his wrist as she looked at him. "I just...don't want this to end." She muttered. He smiled, rolling his eyes at her. "It doesn't have to." He said simply. She relaxed a little, returning his smile, then pulling him in for yet more kissing.

The kiss became heated pretty quickly. She'd already had an orgasm but he hadn't. He nipped at her bottom lip, hands roaming all over her. He was pretty notorious for his lack of patience and while he had decidedly more restraint in the bedroom, he wasn't a saint. He'd been hard the entire time he'd been fingering her and while he did get off on watching her pleasure, he was beginning to feel needy. He pushed his hips into her thigh, searching for some friction. She pulled away from his lips with a sullen pout. "Why do you still have so many clothes on?" She whined. He chuckled, pushing himself up into a sitting position and shrugging. "Because you haven't taken them off yet." He replied. She sat too, batting her eyelashes and kissing the end of his nose. "Well that's pretty shitty of me. I'm sorry." She joked, pulling his shirt over his head. She'd wanted to be cute and playful but Jungkook without clothes was no joke. She groaned, eyes lingering on his sculpted chest and tight abs. "Jesusfuck" she muttered, broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, the dark ink circling his right arm contrasted strongly against his skin. She bit her lip, oogling him shamelessly.He chuckled, feeling a little bashful. She trailed her fingertips down his chest, her lip caught between her teeth as they skimmed past his belly button and down to the waistband of his cargo pants. With a flick, the button popped open and he lifted his ass to help her pull them off. She'd barely got them to his thighs when she let out another groan. He was hard. His cock straining against his black boxers, a wet spot at the head where pre-cum had soaked through the material. She abandoned her mission to remove his pants, feeling strangely compelled, almost like she had no control as she leant forward, peeling the tight band of his underwear back just enough to lick the head of his cock. He let out a soft yelp, obviously not expecting the sudden jolt of pleasure. "Shit" he whispered, his hands scooping her hair back from her face as he straightened out his legs and lifted his hips. His boxers were pushed down enough to free him from them. She moaned quietly, her tongue gliding from the base of his dick to the head, following the thick vein that spanned his length. "Fuck sake. Even your cock is pretty." She said huskily, illiciting a moan from him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, steering the head towards her lips. He watched, entranced as she slowly swirled her tongue over the head, gathering the sticky pre-cum then retreating back into her mouth, grumbling softly with closed eyes as she tasted him. When her eyes opened and fixed on his, his cock throbbed in her hand. With her hair falling around her face, her darkened, swollen lips parted, her eyes glassy, pupils blown, she looked hungry, lowering herself back down to lick the end of his cock again. He hissed, hands gripping tighter in her hair. "I want to fuck your mouth." He panted. She groaned, dropping his cock, it smacked against his belly as he kicked off his cargo pants furiously.

Once off, she threw a leg over his hips sitting across him as her hands tangled in his hair she she caught his lips in a fierce kiss. He groaned into her mouth, he could feel the heat of her wet pussy against his shaft. It took everything he had not to adjust the angle slightly and slide into her. He wanted to desperately but he also wanted to draw the night out as much as he could. He wanted her cock drunk and helpless by the time he'd finished. He could feel her wriggling, trying to rub herself against his cock as she kissed him. He moaned, shifting his position slightly so that his cock slid between her folds, gently rocking so that the head grazed her clit. She whined, breaking the kiss, her head flopping agaisnt his shoulder as she bucked against him. "Fuck me." She whimpered. He smirked, catching her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling softly. "Uh uh" he teased, still undulating his hips to rub his shaft against her clit. "Need you to help me first." He forced her head up, nipping her bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. "Need to fuck this pretty little mouth." He grunted. She moaned, nodding. He smirked, guiding her off him. She slid off the bed, falling to her knees and opening her mouth expectantly. He scrambled over, threading his fingers through her hair as he gripped his throbbing dick and guided it past her lips. He felt her warm, wet mouth engulf him and shuddered, his head falling back, his hips beginning to move slowly, thrusting his cock in and out of her soft mouth. She placed her hands on his muscular thighs, watching his face crease in pleasure as she let him literally fuck her mouth. Her tongue slithered all over his thrusting cock, her mouth filling with saliva as the head hit the back of her throat and she tried to swallow the urge to gag. She stayed still, feeling the needy ache between her thighs grow almost out of control as he used her mouth. His hands tugged at her hair, controlling her movement, sinking his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. Her eyes started to water, gasping for air between his thrusts as he lost himself. His moans initially breathy and quiet were getting louder and higher in pitch. His slow, methodical thrusts were getting quicker, more desperate as he babbled words of praise between moans. "Fuck. So good. Just like that. Yes. Yes." She felt his thighs tense, his muscles rigid. "Fuck, gonna cum. Don't wanna stop. Don't wanna stop." He whined. She moved one hand from his thigh, cupping his balls and squeezing softly. He mewled in surprise and suddenly she felt the spurts of hot cum fill her mouth. He shuddered viciously, hands pulling her hair painfully but unable to relax his clenched fists. She continued to gently run her tongue across the head of his dick, feeling it pulse and twitch as he emptied in her throat. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He whimpered, his grip loosening. He'd barely stopped cumming when he untangled his hands and dropped down to his knees in front of her. "Are you alright?" He asked between gasps of air. She swallowed the mouthful he'd just given her and smiled. He'd literally just cum and his first action was to check on her. "I'm fine" she whispered, pulling his head against her shoulder where he crumpled pathetically, still panting and whining softly at the aftershocks of pleasure running though him. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling. He was sweaty and the perfectly straightened hair she'd given him was now wavy and damp.

He allowed himself a few minutes to recover, his legs shaky and his lungs burning for air as the warm, tingly satisfying feeling of his orgasm flooded through him and gently eased. He liked the calming touch of her fingers in his hair and the cool feel of her skin against his burning flesh. He felt her pressing kisses to his shoulder and smiled, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "That was....so good." He chuckled. She grinned proudly. "Sorry I didn't warn you...or pull out. I wouldn't usually just cum in your mouth without asking but...fuck, I thought I could hold on a bit longer." He smiled. She giggled, shaking her head. "It's ok. I wanted you to." She grinned. "It was really hot. I really like doing that to you." She admitted. He grinned, curling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "You can do that to me whenever the fuck you want to." He laughed. "Don't tell me that. You'll spend your entire life with your dick in my mouth." She grinned. "Sounds good to me." He shrugged. They both laughed. He stood, offering his hand to pull her up too. He kissed her, standing at the end of the bed, naked bodies pressed together as his hands wandered up and down her back. He could taste himself of her lips and though the thought of it would usually make him feel kind of weird, he just found it incredibly hot. "You taste like my cum" he whispered against her lips, tongue delving deeper into her mouth. She moaned against his lips. "Are you trying to kill me?" She breathed. He chuckled, pushing her back gently until she collided with the bed and fell backwards onto it. "Maybe" he shrugged, crawling into the bed between her legs. She gasped, shuffling backwards. "What you doing?" She muttered. He pushed her legs apart, biting his lip as he looked unabashedly at her glistening pussy. "Hungry." He grunted, dropping down onto his elbows and kissing her thigh. "You're going to kill me." She hissed, watching him kiss closer to her throbbing core. "Shhh. I'm busy." He muttered, teasingly running his tongue along the crease where her leg met her groin. Her breath caught in her throat. Just the sight of his head between her legs had her pussy contracting.

"Jungkook, I..." He stopped her, mid sentence by swiping his tongue through her folds. "Oh my god." She panted. He smirked, another long lick from hole to clit, groaning as the taste of her tingled on his tongue. "Fuck. You taste so good." He murmured. He curled his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs further so that her pussy was open and on display. A groan rattled in his throat, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before he leant forward and flicked his tongue against her leaking hole, feeling the ring of muscle contract wildly, trying to draw something inside. "You need a cock in you, huh?" He muttered, talking to her pussy. He flicked his tongue once more watching the muscles contract again. "I know you're needy. Just wait a little longer. I need to make her cum again and then I'm all yours. Promise." He whispered.

She watched in amazement. He was nestled comfortably between her parted legs, talking to her vagina like it was a separate entity. She knew Jungkook had a habit of talking to inanimate objects, she'd seen him apologise to chairs when he'd walked into them and ask his food if it was cool enough to eat yet but she'd never imagined in a billion years that that extended to pussy too. When he spoke to chairs, it was adorable. When he spoke to her pussy, it was mind meltingly sexy. She kind of wanted to sit there, third wheeling while he had a whole ass conversation with it. Another flick of his tongue broke her thought then as his tongue fluttered up to her clit, her mind went completely blank. He ate pussy the way he ate noodles, slurping, sucking, lips and tongue. Repeat until insane. He didn't seem to care about the sloppy sounds or lip smacking. He was a noisy eater and she fucking loved it. He dived in enthusiastically and for a woman, there was nothing sexier than a guy who ate pussy because he loved it, not because he felt he had to. He groaned happily, his tongue everywhere, lips closing around her clit, sucking and licking her most sensitive spot until he had to tighten his grip on her thighs to keep her still. Her orgasm built quickly, her hips writhing as she clawed at the sheets beneith her, legs kicking involuntarily under his vice like grip. He moaned, forcing her legs up, his hands behind her knees as he hovered over her, head moving as he made out with her clit like it was her mouth. He didn't stop as her orgasm hit, sucking and licking at her pussy until she was convulsing, her cries somewhere between pleasure and distress. "AHHHH JUNGKOOK, PLEASE" she wailed. "Want me to stop?" He panted quickly, his tongue swirling against her overly sensative clit once again. "YES. NO. I DON'T KNOW" she squealed. It felt too intense. Almost painful. But so good. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her past experiences had all ended as soon as she'd cum but apparently that didn't necessarily mean the end to Jungkook. She crushed the pillow to her face, barely muffling the strangled moans escaping her. "Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum again." She cried. This pleasure was different. Sharper. Her muscles burned, being tensed for too long but unable to relax under his persistent tongue. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, her vision went blank, her skin felt on fire and then the raging, hot, sharp pleasure eased. Her muscles slowly unwound and she practically melted into the bed. He was beside her without her even noticing him move. Gentle kisses peppered her face and he moved her sweaty hair back. "Just breath babygirl" he cooed. "Are you alright? Too much?" He whispered. She shook her head, grabbing for his hand and clutching it as her senses returned. "Need you in me." She growled, throwing the pillow aside.

Something about her last orgasm had snapped her resolve and even though the pleasent tingles still washed through her, she couldn't think of anything other than how empty she felt. She'd been craving his cock inside her since they'd kissed against the door and that was hours ago. She couldn't stand another minute of teasing and Jungkooks cocky smirk wasn't helping her any. "Ooh. I really drove you crazy." He teased. "Remind me to do that again..." He kissed her, his tongue teasing her lips and leaving the taste of herself behind, "..and again" He nibbled her bottom lip softly, "...and again!" He whispered. She glared at him as he smiled widely, his nose crinkling. "Don't bunny smile at me." She hissed. He laughed, trailing his fingers across her stomach. "I thought you liked the duality thing. That's what you said earlier." He grinned. "I do...but can you save the bunny bit until after you've fucked me." She whined. He laughed harder. "If you wanna fuck, I'm not stopping you." He shrugged. She eyed him for a second then pushed him onto his back, throwing her leg over his hips. He hummed appreciatively, biting his lip as his eyes roamed slowly down her body, taking his hard cock in his hand and rubbing it against her pussy. "Y'know, I've just had an orgasm. My legs are still wobbly. If you were a gentleman you'd do the work." She smirked, grinding against his cock. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Oh is that right?"

He sat up suddenly, sending her flying backwards, she screeched and giggled, grabbing onto his arms as he flipped them so that he was on top of her. He took her hands, pinning them either side of her head. "I was letting you take control cause you said you wanted to fuck. But now..." He paused, kissing her, groaning into her mouth as his tongue slid against hers. "...I'm in control...and I don't wanna fuck. I'm gonna go nice...and slow." He grinned as she started to protest, taking his dick in his hand and rubbing the end against her hole, chuckling as her words stopped instantly. "Yeah, thought that'd shut you up." He lined up, pushing forward, his eyes fluttering as he felt the soft slick heat stretch and swallow the tip. She tried to raise her hips but he pinned them down with a smirk, kissing her softly before resting his forehead against hers. "No baby. Slowly." He breathed, pushing forward a little more. He savoured the feeling of her tight, hot pussy accepting him inch by inch until his hips were flush against hers. He exhaled heavily, his eyes closing as he pressed his lips to hers hungrily. "Wrap your legs around me" he whispered, looking into her lust filled eyes. With her hips lifted, it changed the angle allow him even deeper. "Oh fuck" she grunted, her hands clenched against his shoulders. "Too deep?" He muttered. She shook her head. She felt stretched and filled completely. He was deep enough to make her toes curl. He withdrew just as slowly, whining, his mouth falling open and his brow creasing. "Oh shit." He groaned. He'd wanted to go slow. To tease her until she couldn't stand it anymore but he was the one who gave in first. She was hot and tight and velvety soft. His stomach tightened, his hips moving faster automatically. He kissed her desperately, moans mingling together along with their tongues. Every time he started to pull out, her walls clamped around him, holding and squeezing his throbbing cock. He could barely form a thought, feverishly driving his cock into her over and over as she moaned beneath him. He could feel her getting tighter and wetter. He forced his eyes open. "Look at me" he panted. Her eyes opened, glassy and unfocused. He moaned deeply, the pleasured expression etched on his face along with the sounds he was making only pushed her closer to release. He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, the perfect drag of his thick, hot cock, so hard, so deep, she'd never felt anything like it. She felt like everything about him was designed to please. "Jungkook..." she purred, her hips rolling and bucking in rhythm with his. "Fuck. I'm so close." He moaned. She bit her lip. His golden skin gleamed as sweat began to roll down his neck and onto his chest. Her back arched, the steady thrust of his cock pounding into her driving her closer and closer. She gripped his back, her nails clenching. He felt the bite of pain and hissed, thrusting harder. "Let go baby. Let me see you come undone one more time." He growled. It was like she didn't have a choice, her body simply obeying, her orgasm shattering through her. He felt it, the hard clench of her walls followed by the rapid pulsing, milking his cock, pulling his cum from him. His steady rhythm faltered, his head dropping onto her shoulder as he fucked through the pleasure, his cum spilling deep inside her making his thrusting sloppier. He was still twitching as his arms gave out and he flopped heavily down on top of her, gasping for air, his head swimming and buzzing. He could feel her hot, ragged breath against his ear. He wanted to move off of her, check she was ok, do something but he couldn't move. He felt heavy, his mind cloudy. He just about managed to throw his leg over her hips and slither beside her, dozily pulling her into his arms as he pressed soft, breathless kisses to her forehead. "Roll" he mumbled, tapping her hip. She forced herself onto her side, grumbling contentedly as he curled up behind her, spooning her. "I think I'm gonna pass out." She whispered, giggling weakly. He chuckled, his own eyes heavy, the urge to sleep clawing

at him insistently. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He muttered.

[chil2de]

hi yes the benimaru fic i mentioned earlier— fire force fandom will you let me in please??🥺🥺 i don’t know what i’m dealing with fanbase wise mmfldjfj sometimes it feels like i’m head over heels for bens by myself so... i’ll drop this here for now.. see how it goes and i’ll continue w/ a second part if ff isn’t dead

nsfw themes throughout, so please read my disclaimer if you’re new. enjoy :)

w.c: 1.7k, characters: 9.6k (incl spaces)

-

there’s a certain sluggish quality that plagues your movements. it’s not fatigue or incompetence. or so benimaru would hope.

his mix matched gaze glosses over your unnecessary movements. that extra exhale you hiss, the additional bat of your eyelashes and the excessive perspiration that drips onto the earth below.

“stop.” he commands, tone low and stern as it pierces through the open air.

“huh? captain shinmon, i’m fine. we can keep going.” you huff through laboured breaths, pausing to gasp and drink in the plentiful oxygen around you.

“it’s one thing if you’re overworking your muscles. it’s another if you’re running a fever. go inside.”

“b-but captain-“

benimaru shoots you a dead stare, keeping his statement rooted deep where he stands.

judging by the bruises that adorn your knees, you know better than to disobey the captain.

“waka! have you seen (l/n)?” konro lingers in the doorframe of the main communal area, gaze scanning for one of his colleagues.

“she’s in her room. why?”

“her room? she has a few errands to run. is she feeling okay?”

“she’s running a fever.” benimaru exhales, shifting to get up from the table. he lightly scratches the back of his neck, adorning that usual aloof facial expression.

“in the middle of summer? how’d that happen?” konro chuckles through a small glimpse of bewilderment. of course he’d be concerned for one of his best recruits.

“hell if i know. what do we need? i’ll head out.”

if anything, benimaru is probably the sole reason why you’re running a fever. why he subjected to railing you underneath water that felt like it was nearing sub-zero was beyond you. it’s not like he’s about to admit he enjoys fucking his special little fire soldier. how he relishes and engrains the sight of your fucked out facial expression deep into his head, burning the image into his retinas. shit, you wouldn’t be surprised if the reason why he sometimes spaces out is because of you.

it’s always been blatantly obvious that you’re the captain’s favourite, no matter how much he denies it and how many glares he shoots at the people from other companies. you’re always left apologising for his behaviour, attempting to keep a straight face.

for the one time you dragged him out to patrol with you, and the amount of incessant whining, complaints and bribes you offered your captain, after a full month of lovely slow burn he decided to come along with you. he just up and left, had the audacity to turn around and ask you why you’re still standing there. benimaru always kept his distance to yours close, in fact the separation was almost minimal. you could feel his shoulders ghost over you.

every time he noticed someone staring at your figure for a little bit too long to be deemed appropriate, he hissed a scoff of distaste. at around the third or fourth person, you were already forced to deal with his short temper.

“what the hell are you gawking at? mind your damn business.”

but sure. apparently you’re not his favourite.

he can scoff and complain all he wants, but that won’t stop him even now from lazily snaking his hand around to his favourite baby girl’s waist. to him, this seems like the most normal thing.

“how else is she going to stand upright? she’s all stick and bones, the wind will knock her right over.”

okay, benimaru. you keep telling yourself that. even when his fingers feel an itch every time they’re not touching a part of your skin. he tends to get a whole lot more mouthy and irritable every time you’re not around, too.

hell, even his own townsfolk pick up on the fact that he’s out and about more. rounds that he always left to the lesser important underlings became more commonplace, especially with you by his side.

but the things that go on behind closed doors?

his peppermint red eyes that haunt your mind, infiltrating your very thoughts. you could be minding your business, going on about your day until you get an abrupt flicker of his mundane tic-tac-toe gaze staring up at you from in between your thighs.

you could be taking care of hinata and hikage, entertaining their antics when you feel the weight of benimaru’s stare burn holes into your uniform.

you could be doing your daily sparring with the captain. in the zone, breath held and blood stream steady until you remember the feel of his hot tongue trailing along the side of your neck. for someone who seems to be stuck in a perpetual state of sadness, you always catch the arrogant smirk that pulls at his lips.

“thinking of something?” he’ll cock his eyebrows, using the distraction to take a jab to your gut.

you groan, stirring around in your bed. you hate him, hate that stupid half lidded gaze of his. you hate how soft his wavy jet black locks are. the way the strands tug and bend whenever you try to yank his face away from your cunt. you run your fingers through your hair in a valiant yet futile attempt to free your thoughts from your captain. it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon, and you haven’t done anything but reminisce about your lover for the past hour and a half.

a meek and uneven sigh hisses from your lips. your eyes screw open and you flinch at the hard sunlight that pours in from the window. as you use the inner portion of your elbow to shield your gaze, you catch glimpse of a very familiar figure in the doorway.

“captain shinmon?” you inquire, propping yourself up onto your elbows. he closes the door behind him. you’re certain that you looked like a loyal dog sat panting and wagging its tail upon discovering the return of their owner.

“excited to see me?” he remarks in a flat tone, opening the grocery bag he’s carrying before setting a few things down onto your nightstand. it’s mostly medicine, though he snags a few of your favourite snacks and drinks. there’s also one of those fascinating green tea bottles that you buy at the vending machines, except they’re served piping hot.

“how’re you feeling?”

“i told you i was going to get sick if we had the water that cold.” you huff, averting your gaze in a fit.

“not my problem you can’t take a little temperature difference”

“a little? that shit was freezing! how the hell can you take water that cold?”

“how can you not?”

you chuckle a little, shifting to stare up at the ceiling.

“don’t you have paperwork to do?”

“you know i don’t do paperwork. sure as hell not gonna start doing it now.” benimaru huffs, kicking his boots off by the door. you can hear his clothes rustling and your head snaps to face him. he shoots you a glare, as though to scold you. it’s dripping on his face. ‘really? you’re so eager.’

“move up.” he cocks his head to the side, motioning for you to move over. you shift up, room spinning a little too much for your tastes. the mattress dips with his weight and his right arm (our left) reflexively hangs in the air for you to dip your head into the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet. he discards his navy kimono, the article of clothing hangs on one of the hooks at the back of your door. it’s probably not much comfort for him to be relaxing in a bed with half of his uniform still on.

you squish your face against his hard chest, head rising and falling in time with his breathing. the said arm relaxes and his hand rests against your shoulder. subsequently, you realise this is the first time you’ve seen him fully without his kimono on. at the very least, he’d still have the other sleeve on.

benimaru notices your blatant staring at his other arm. he can’t comprehend why you’d gawk at it now, since he’s used it plenty of times to choke you.

he hums a small ‘hm’ in question, asking you what you’re so fascinated about. you can feel his voice thrum and rock against his chest, it sends small shivers licking your body that he doesn’t miss.

“you look so funny without your kimono on. why don’t you wear it like this more often?” you drag your nails softly against his biceps. there’s a small groan that hisses from him. as you await his response, you outline a large vein that runs from his upper arm and trails down all the way to his wrist.

“i get cold easily.”

“then why did you take a shower with me?”

“are you hearing yourself?”

surely a little bit of his body temperature was enough to sacrifice. even if it meant he was sneezing a little bit and shivering afterwards.

“seriously? you can take a tranquiliser but you can’t stand a little cold?”

“you’ll make a shitty wife if you can’t even keep me warm.”

“beni!” you hiss at benimaru in appaul, craning your face up to guffaw at him. the manners on him sometimes are despicable.

you pout, shifting your upper weight to flick benimaru in between his eyebrows. he screws his face in mutiny, lips curled into a scowl.

you and him both know that if it were anyone else flicking him like that, they’d be sent crashing through six different blocks of houses down the street.

“oi.” he warns you, tutting.

“konro come by and work some voodoo magic bullshit on you? ‘cause you’re testing your luck by pissing me off. you’re such a menace when you’re sick, it’s unbelievable.”

you hum in awe, inching your face closer towards his. there’s a wave of mockery that paints your face green and you can only laugh at the unrest that swirls in benimaru’s eyes.

he won’t have his pet talking down to him like that. no, no. that just won’t do.

“oh? really? you want me to do it again?” you flash him a cocky smirk, digits curled into a flicking position. you rest the bridge of your middle finger against benimaru’s forehead, slicking some of his charcoal stained locks out the way.

his left hand flies to catch your hand in an instant. with just two of his fingers, he can wrap himself around your wrist. his touch is assertive, firm. he can drag you the fuck away from him as he pleases, but there’s no real malice or force behind him just yet.

“yeah? try me.” he barks, peering down at you through his lashes.

you just might.

[2-cute-4-school]

𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴

Mark Lee

so we all know mark is a quite expressive person with his emotions

and come on when playing video games we all rage and throw fits so emotions are running especially high ‎(ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

what i’m trying to say is that mark is yelling, banging fists against his desk, laughing his ass off and pissing you off

i mean mark’s laugh is very cute and ENTIRE BLESSING TO HEAR but ♡ sleep ♡ is also precious 

but mark can’t hear your exaggerated sighs nor see your ever-lasting pout

so you lift your tired self from the bed and plop down on his lap

mark : “hUH??¿¿ B-BABE?!¿¿” （＊〇□〇）……！

haechan, audible through the headphones: mark, not in front of the boys, you wild beast (๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)

mark opens his mouth to shout in protest but you bury your head in his shoulder and let out a soft whine and mark.just.COMBUSTS!!!

he grumbles something about how haechan is due for a good beating and nuzzles the side of his face against the top of your head  ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

whenever he has a break and doesn’t need both hands to play, he brings one arm around you, cuddling you closer to himself and running his hand along the length of your spine

or just LAYS HIS HAND ON YOUR THIGH askfafwsr- ya know (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

doesn’t have the heart to break the atmsophere even after he shuts down his computer and just cocoons you in his warm arms and hums a song softly as you doze off intertwined together UwU

Huang Renjun

you’re just trying to be cute and create a romantic enviroment as you cuddle up to your boyfriend who is immersed in his game

“y/n?” his voice is soft, almost a hush and it could almost lull you to sleep

“yeah?” ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ

“i can’t see because of your head”

FIRST HIT HOME but you didn’t give up of course, just flattened your cheek against his shoulder to accomodate his complaint 

just as you settle downs drowsily, glued to his frint, he covers his mic to grumble to you again  ಠ╭╮ಠ

“it’s getting hot” 

SECOND HIT HOME and you’re starting to get discouraged as you scoot a little further away from his body and loosen the grip of your hands around his neck (๑′°︿°๑)

but of course ever grumpy renjun still had complaints karen who

“my legs are falling asleep” 

*SIGH* “eye roll* *definetely not pouting* you start pulling yourself away from him and trudge defeatedly and bury yourself under a ton of blankets

but he just chickles, has the AUDACITY to chuckle, and brings you back on his lap, squeezing the life out of you  (≧д≦ヾ)

“i was just kidding babe don’t leave me!!” says renjun as he sways you kinda violently may i add from side to side and rubs his cheek against yours cuz he’s a kitty and adorable confirmed  ε=(｡♡ˇд ˇ♡｡）

rough love you have other there as you can see

Lee Jeno

jeno is GENTLE GIANT （ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ

gentle loving giant in this case actually so even better

so we all know how the dreamies exposed this boy TWICE for playing video games 25/8 and he got scolded by his mum lol so i’m thinking

you’re trying to get him to go to sleep or at least rest his eyes he’s already blind enough i WONDER WHY damn

all this started when you settled in front of his computer to block his view

and as he argued with you he decided enough is enough and pulled you into his lap, traping you against his chest (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

“jeno it’s 3 am!!” :<

“ just one more round baby” of video games ya nasties...no? only me?ok

he tries to give you a *smooch* but you move your face away and refuse to turn around and let him kiss you

and that’s where jeno draws the line (; ･`д･´)​

kithes are something that can’t berefused between you two, an unspoken rule you apparenly weren’t aware of

so with a ‘eep!!!’ from you, he simly stands up from his seat with you latched onto him like a koala like (＾ω＾ ≡ °д°)

“jeno put me down!!!11!!1! NOW!!” 

“kiss first” (.◜ ᵕ ◝.)  

“are you nuts??!!!?” *exaggerated smooch* “now put me down!!”

needless to say he’s not letting go anytime soon, he just plops into bed and you cuddle until you fall asleep you’ve been scammed

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is a very VERY petty brat person ಠ_ಠ

so guess what... fights with him are a national competition of petty acts

and you know what his ultimate move in your most recent fight is? *drum rolls* turning off the central heating really original hyuck i applaud you

and this kid knows exactly what he’s doing when he sits down in his gaming chair with a shit-eating grin  (ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)

he hears you stumble around the house in your dora the explorer exploration in the search of a blanket

but guess what? they’re all under his flat cake  ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

so when you bardge in the room and find him hogging all the warmth you hope to intimidate him with your  ✨ highly horrific glare ✨

but he pretends to be too busy to notice you so you just defeatedly settle on his lap and under the blankets

“well well well look who’s crawling back with their tail between their legs”

“i might just cut off your front microscopic tail” (눈_눈)

but i just know he’s gonna cuddle you until you sweat your ass off under that mountain of blankets

and even when he can’t hold you, he’ll press his lips against your forehead, lingering there as his warm breath fanned across your skin

he also made a deal with you to which you didn’t necessarily agree with but that’s a minor detail am i rite

if he wins the round he gets a kiss as a reward (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

if he loses, he gets 2 kisses as a consolation (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)و ̑̑

you’re getting suspicious of his 4 consecutive losses

Na Jaemin

he’s a fluff ball we all know it, we all love it

he’d DIG THAT KIND OF SHIT  ٩̋(ˊ•͈ ꇴ •͈ˋ)و

and he babies you to the end of earth

99.8% chance that he’s gonna stop playing just to cradle you against his chest properly because YOU’RE. HIS. BABY!!! periodt.

cue yelling from his teammates for abadoning them in the middle of the game but that’s inevitable

“na jaemin you SIMP!!!!” 

but jaemin is too busy making puppy eyes at you (●♡∀♡))ヾ☆*。

he’d kiss you everywhere he could reach and then scoop your hands in his and bring them to his lips for another shower of kithes  (*'､^*)chu

and if you kiss him back??  

this man will literally COMUST with uwus istg

like just imagine you brush your lips against his neck and then you gently nuzzle against him??

jaemin would melt in your embrace ♡(｡- ω -)

even if he did eventually go back to playing, he’d press kises anywhere in reach periodically cuz he’s soft like that

would also LOVE feeling your breath fan his neck he gets a unique feeling of comfort knowing that he has you so close to him  (๑˃ᴗ˂)

“even if you were the impostor i’d still vote myself out for you”

the romanticism of this decade 

Zhong Chenle

this boi is ruthless when playing video games

god frobid you’re in his way cuz you’re getting SQUASHED (｢⊙Д⊙)｢

 he obvioulsy LOVES winning

but ya know what he loves more than winning???

𝓨𝓞𝓤  ♡(㋭ ਊ ㋲)♡

so chenle is all (｡+･`ω･´)

“you waste of space move along!!!!”  “shoot that gun straight dammit or i’ll shove it up yo- oh hey baby°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°“

the moment you plop down on his lap and curl yourself up with your head tucked under his chin, his blazing eyes soften so cutely

and so raging kid chenle turns into best babyboi chenle (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

he M E L T S like he just leans into your touch and continues gaming  A LOT more silently and just smiles absent-mindedly the entire time

“yo chenle you dead????” most likely jisung on the other side of the headphones

“no?” ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

“... guys he’s plotting something, reatreat!! i repeat, RETREAT!!!”

“what?? no, what do you mean by that !??!!!”

you stir as his voice rises in volume and chenle immediately settles down again and shushes you while patting your heah and threading his fingers through your hair carefully (*-ω-)

goes straight for jisung after that teammate or not rip jisung you’ll be missed but also bad choice to annoy a soft-for-only-my-baby chenle

Park Jisung

a bit flustered but just couldn’t refuse you when you cutely asked him with wide puppy eyes if you could sit in his lap to watch him play

probably short circuited for a good 2 minutes before he could produce and intelligible answer (ง ´͈౪`͈)ว

and that’s how you found yourself perched on his lap, facing the screen with curious eyes as jisung struggled as if his LIFE depended on it

“how do you jump?” (,Ծ_Ծ,)

“you can’t jump”

“what do you mean you can’t jump?? gravity doesn’t work like that” Σ(･ิ¬･ิ)

you’re like 2 newborn babies running wild and unsupervised

“jisung, that character looks like you when you’re constipated” (๑꒪▿꒪)*

cue cackling from the devil spawns on the other side

he’s gonna keep in mind this betrayal UNTIL THE END OF TIME beware

if you catch sight of one of his hands not working away i bet my allowance you’ll have this uncontrollable urge to hold it in yours DO IT I NEED MY ALLOWANCE DON’T BE SHY

of course he’ll automatically intertwine your fingers together and bring them up for a chaste kiss  ～(^з^)-♡

and i know for sure that he won’t have the heart to let go of it even when he needs it to play sigh jisung you SIMP

he’s gonna get scolded and teased by the other later but ya know

at least he ain’t no touch starved coward ¯\(°_o)/¯

he gets grounded for that by jaemin

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; tags to be added as story progresses

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: That slow creep, tho

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You looked down at your body and fidgeted. The skirt was so short you pulled on a pair of stockings in an effort to hide your legs, and it was tight like the blouse. Both pieces seemed to be just a size too small. The boots were higher than any heels you’d worn before and you felt awkward in the get-up.

Noon. That was when he told you the night before as he kept stalling you from leaving. Every time you were ready to push open the car door, he had something else to say. You agreed to noon just to appease him so you could run and hide in your dorm.

You pulled on your long pea coat and stuffed your textbooks into your canvas bag with the leather straps. You hiked it up on your shoulder and slung your pocketbook from your other. You stepped out into the hallway and wobbled on the heels. You clung to the handle as you kept yourself upright.

“Wow, you look special,” Gina remarked as she peeked through the kitchen door.

“Um, thanks,” you pulled your coat closed and buttoned it, “it’s… new.”

“It’s cute,” she said as Lisa came to peek through the doorway as well.

“Where are you going?” the second girl asked.

“To study,” you said as you carefully made your way to the heavy door that led to the stairwell.

“Oh, study, huh?” she teased, “can’t be alone then.”

“I’m gonna be late,” you kept your chin down.

“Don’t let us hold you up,” Gina said as you opened the door and stepped out.

“I didn’t know she had anywhere to go,” Lisa’s trilled and her voice slipped into the hall just before the wood slid back into the frame.

You exhaled through your nose and braced the railing for your slow and treacherous descent. As you got to the bottom, you teetered and pressed yourself to the wall as two girls came through the door. You watched them flit up the stairs and scurried out into the spring air.

The weather was as bitter as before. It smelled like wet grass and mud. The sun beamed down warmly and made you sweat in your jacket. You gripped the strap of your bag and cleared the single step to even ground.

“Honey,” the voice drew your eyes up from your boots and you blinked. 

The sheriff stood by his cruiser as he watched you. He didn’t wear his uniform, instead a pair of grey slacks and pure white button-up under his usual leather. He smiled and came to the end of the walk as you hesitantly closed the gap. Your heel caught in a crack and you stumbled. He caught you and gave a soft laugh.

“You okay?” he asked as he held your elbow in one hand and his other went to the small of your back.

“I’m fine,” you righted yourself and parted from him, “just didn’t see the crack.”

“Here,” he tugged on your heavy knapsack, “let me take this.”

You let him, unsure what to say. He was early. Your watch assured you he was a whole twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Your own timing was purely habit as you hated to keep others waiting.

“Thank you,” you squeaked as he put the bag in the back seat.

“So, can I see it?” he asked as he shut the door.

“What?” your brows knitted in confusion.

“The clothes,” he said lightly, “that is what you’re hidin’ under there, right?” he pointed at a large round button on your pea coat, “it’s too warm to be wearin’ all that.”

“Can I wait… until we’re at your, um, place?” you clutched the round collar of your coat anxiously.

“Oh, for my eyes only, huh,” he teased with a wink.

“No, I just… can we go?”

“Course, honey,” he brushed by you and opened the front door, “get in.”

You sat and pulled your legs in, hooking them around the edge of the seat stiffly as you crossed one over the other. The door closed and you picked at the metal clasp of your pocket book and chewed your lip. Why were you doing all this? You were an adult, he said it himself, you could say no…

You glanced around, his sheriff’s hat sat on the dashboard and you shook your head. No, you couldn’t. He was a cop and your discomfort wasn’t a reason to be uncourteous. Your mother always told you to push yourself out of your safe zone. She hated how you always held yourself back because you were scared. It was difficult enough to get you out of the house and into a dorm.

Once he was in the car, there was no turning back. You coudn’t lie about feeling sick or claim a forgotten study group, you were on your way and suddenly you were filled with panic. What if he wasn’t taking you to his house? Did that star on his hat really mean he was a good person?

“Um,” the syllable slipped from you nervously.

“What is it, hon?” he asked as he gripped the grooved wheel.

“Um, I don’t…” you stuttered as you searched for words. You couldn’t let him know what you were really afraid of, “so, uh, I would’ve thought that… you have a wife?”

His brows flicked up as you peeked over at him. He pushed his bottom lip out and hummed. He clicked his tongue and sighed.

“Well, I did,” he admitted, “but I don’t like to talk about it too much. She, er, she’s married to my deputy now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I didn’t…”

“It’s all over now,” he shrugged, “you know, I’ve moved on. We’re both happier for it.”

“That’s… good, then,” you murmured.

“Must be, I met you,” he smiled, “huh?”

“Well, I…” your hand shook and hid it up your sleeve, “I don’t know, I’m a bit young, aren’t I?”

“Young?” he said, “you don’t act it. You’re a lot more mature than lots of ladies I know. The way you carry yourself… you work hard I can tell. I don’t see your age, just a good woman.”

“Hmm,” you pursed your lips tightly.

“I mean it,” he insisted, “you got character beyond your age.”

“Thank you, but I… I don’t know,” you picked at the cuff of your coat.

“You brought your books?” he said, “must’ve. That bag sure is heavy. I got a place for ya all set up.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be workin’ on supper, I hope you don’t mind the noise,” he drawled, “you know, I don’t cook often so I might be a bit… lost.”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” you offered, “really, it’s… too much.”

“I wanna, honey,” he said, “ain’t it special? A fellow cookin’ for his lady?”

“Uh, oh,” you frowned, “sure.”

“And you can turn the radio on if you like,” he continued, “it’s new.”

You nodded and listened meekly. Every argument you had for him was quickly shot down. He was so good at telling you how you were wrong or what to do while making it feel like good advice. Each demand, each want, was presented as common sense. It was impossible to argue with him because deep inside, you couldn’t argue with yourself. 

While your gut told you something was off, your head assured you of your paranoia. You didn’t know any better, did you? You didn’t know how these things worked, how men and women got along, so of course it would feel strange to you. But he knew and he was so confident about it, he must be right.

📚

Lee’s house was nice, just outside the city limits. It reminded you of the suburban homes you passed on your way to high school in your hometown. You only ever lived in an apartment with your parents and so found the place extravagant compared to boxy until attached hallways noisy with troublesome neighbours.

He led you onto the porch, the wood painted white, and opened both the screen door and thicker wood one ahead of you. You were forced to brush against him as you entered. He was quick to trail you, the screen snapping shut behind him. He hung his leather coat and tugged on the back of your collar as he plunked down your bookbag.

“Go on then,” he said, “let me see it, honey.”

You closed your eyes and steeled yourself. You forced a smile as you undid the first button and slowly turned to him. You unhooked each until the coat fell open and you let it fall down your arms. You quickly swept it up and he took it to hang beside his own.

He faced you and gripped your shoulders as he looked down at you. You shied away as his eyes roved down your body and you took a step back as you crossed your arms.

“They’re a bit tight,” you said.

“You look mighty fine,” he slithered, “look like they fit just nice.”

“Erm,” you rocked on the balls of your feet.

He smiled and knelt to untie his shoes. You unzipped the boots and stepped out of them, stretching your arches as before you brought them flat. You pushed them beside his shoes as his strong cologne tickled your nose.

“Just in here, honey,” he waved you through a doorway, “come on.”

He went back to grab your bag and pointed you in ahead of him as he returned to you. He went to the sofa and dropped the bag on the cushion. 

“You can get settled in,” he sidled away from the coffee table, “the radios there,” he gestured to the console table along the wall, “record player too.”

“Thanks, I should be fine,” you neared and sat on the edge of the couch.

“I’ll be through there, in the kitchen,” he peeked over at another door, “you need anything, just holler.”

“I will,” you twined your fingers through each other, “thank you.”

He smirked and shoved his hands in his pockets as he lingered on the other side of the table, “you do look nice in that,” he looked you up and down again, “you don’t even need the stockings with how warm it’s gettin’.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and brought your fingers to tap your lip, “guess I should get started.”

You reached for the flap of your book bag and slid out a heavy textbook. You sensed him watching you before his feet slowly turned away and he strode from the room. You opened the book and flipped through the pages mindlessly. 

This house was far enough from the city, far enough that you were stranded, and much of the area was new to you. The realisation made you tremble as you counted the page numbers.

[dreamerstreamer]

Speak Your Mind

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader

Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)

George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.

I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world. 

But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.

He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.

[y/n]: hi george!

[y/n]: how are you doing?

George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.

He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.

The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.

You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.

“Woah. You’re really pretty.”

He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”

He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”

“George!”

The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.

You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.

The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.

Hopefully.

With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.

GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha

[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3

His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.

Oh god, he was so screwed.

He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?

A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.

[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)

A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.

“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.

“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.

“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”

“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.

But I wish I knew you better.

“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”

He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”

“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”

George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”

He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?” 

He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”

“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?” 

He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”

You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”

His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.

“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”

He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.

Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”

You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”

He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”

It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”

A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”

A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”

He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be? 

“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly. 

A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.

You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?

“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start? 

There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”

He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”

His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.

“You what?”

He froze.

Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?

Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”

A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.

If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.

“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.

“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”

Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.

Why did he do that? How did he do that?

Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard. 

He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.

“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.

Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.

Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.

He was sure things could only go downhill from here.

“You what?!”

George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.

“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”

George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”

Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”

All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?” Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”

“Yeah, and?”

Another beat of silence.

“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”

George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”

“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”

“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.

“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”

George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”

Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”

George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”

“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”

“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.

George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”

“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”

He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”

A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”

George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”

Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”

“You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Nah. It’s funny.”

Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”

George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”

“Good luck, Gog—”

It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.

It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long. 

Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.

I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.

That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.

You suck, he thought.

The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.

His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?

The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.

[y/n] is typing...

His heart leapt into his throat.

[y/n]: okay!

He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.

“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.

“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.

“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”

Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”

He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”

Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.

“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”

George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.

“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”

You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”

He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”

Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”

He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear. 

I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—

“I like you, too.”

His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.

Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.

He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.

You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins. 

Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.

“I like you a lot lot, too.”

He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?

Your grin widened. “Yes.”

For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.

A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now? 

Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.

[plush-rabbit]

LOV Kinks

A/N: Hope you enjoy them!! Also a few mention AFAB but it’s mostly kept gender neutral (some of them im not so keen on but i think it fits more into their character except for like 1 but that’s like a whole ‘nother thing)

Bubaigawara Jin:

Brat Play- Jin is a gentleman with you, but he likes the sense of control that sex gives him. He likes teasing you, towering over you with his large stature. He’ll kiss your lips, order you to get on your knees and when he’s met with a cheeky response and a killer smile, he’ll ask once more. Deny him and  he’s bending you over his lap, bum exposed and smacked until you start to sniffle. He wants to see you cry a bit, to look up at him from your position and act cheeky. 

Katoptronophilia- Sex in front of the mirror is a everything to him. He has you bent over, arms stretched behind your back and he holds your wrists with a single hand. He looks in front of the mirror and admires what he sees. Whether it’s your chest that moves widely or your cock that bobs and drips with arousal, he’s cupping his hands to your chest and twisting at your nipples, bringing you close to his chest and talking absolute filth to you. If you compliment Jin during this time, there’s a high chance he’ll pound into you harder, bite at your shoulder all while you tell him beautiful things about himself. 

Sensory Deprivation- No matter who it is that is being tired, gagged, blind folded- Jin is having the time of his life. If it’s you, he loves to see you nervous. The way your muscles tense when he walks by, how you can tell he’s already so near when his knee makes the bed dip. It’s a feral type of arousal that he gets from it, salivating at the thought of you being terrified, comes about your body and whispers close to your ear about how he’s going to wreck you. If he’s deprived, he’s excited. Sculpted muscles line his body, tense and perfect, you’re able to see every curve and dent and he’s gasping when you touch him. He wants to be drained by the time you’re done with him.

Dabi:

Corruption- Play the dotting role of the lover- cook for him and take care of him, wash his hair and kiss his scars. He falls deeper for you. A sinking pit that wants to drag you down and bury himself inside of you until you’re molded to his shape, ruined for anyone else. Dabi wants to see you cry and think about all the perverted things you do. He stuffs you with his cock and shoves his fingers into your mouth until you’re gagging and crying. He wants to take you and fuck you on a dirty mattress, ruin the sweet mental image of who you are. 

Humiliation- Dabi loves to see you hide yourself behind your palms. He wants to see you whine and deny the filthy words that leave his mouth. He thinks it’s the cutest thing when you start to hiccup and whine about how you aren’t a slut. It’s all in good fun and he knows your tears better than anyone so when you do start to actually cry, he’s apologizing but he’s jerking in the shower about that cute, scrunched up face you made. But, turn the tables on him and he’s creaming. Every single word that cuts at him is soothed over as you call him yours. 

Marking- He doesn’t want to hurt you. At least more than necessary. He likes branding you. It’s usually nothing more than a slight burn that will sting for a bit, your skin flushed and hot. He’ll press himself close to you, kiss at your neck and open his mouth. He lives for leaving you marked- bruises that won’t fade until weeks later, bites that sting and a grip too tight that breaks skin. A soft press of his hand against your hip that leaves you hissing is something that he takes pride in. If you want to mark Dabi as well, he’s eager to let you. The sharp, hesitant bite of your teeth, the way you lap it over with the flat of your tongue is so cute, he’s thrusting deeper into you.

Iguchi Shuichi:

Body Worship- Shuichi has a bit of self-esteem issues given the way he grew up and the organizations that are highly against his type of quirks. Run your hands through his hair, kiss his hands and comment how nice his hands are and tell him how pretty his scales are he’s melting. If he’s being praised- told how gorgeous he is, complimented on his scales during sex, and he’s nothing but putty, slow, sensual sex where he keeps himself close to you, nails scratching down your skin and threatening to rip the soft skin. His compliments towards you are the standard type- being told how pretty you are, how you’re perfect- but as it continues, he starts highly praising you, listing everything that he loves about you while kissing and nipping his ways toward your sex.

Breeding- Due to his quirk, there’s a bit of an animalistic side to him. He’s always close to you during sex, bodies pressed and meshed, legs intertwined and arms wrapped tightly around you but it hardly ever steps into the breeding category unless you mention it to him. There are times where Shuichi can’t help himself, pumping himself into you, head buried into your neck and a hand will curve over your stomach. It’s during this when he’s absolutely filthy- talking about how you’re going to be full of children- eggs that will fill your belly- slimy and completely aroused when he knows that he can smell your ovulation. Perhaps it isn’t the thought of raising children that makes him excited- though he can’t deny that he hasn’t thought about having children with you- but rather the entire aspect of breeding. To see a swollen belly, full breasts, your leaking cunt, the way that he gets to be the only one to have his seed so deep within it and see the dazed look on your face after he orgasms. 

Odaxelagnia- While your teeth might not be strong enough to pierce his skin, he can’t deny the pleasure from it. He can feel the pressure, the way your spit pools onto him in heavy strands that trail down his body. He enjoys it very much. While Shuichi may not be the tamest nor the wildest, he can appreciate a good mark. He was given sharp teeth for a reason. He’ll bite around your body- thighs, stomach, shoulders, and anywhere else he happens to be- and admire the welts that form. During his breeding episodes is when he’s most likely to bite, tearing up and shaking, a faint copper taste in his mouth and then he feels you yank on his hair. It’s a sharp pain and he remains latched onto you, soothing away the pain with his tongue. He loves to see you marked, covering his bite where he can see and a few times where others can see.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Helplessness- Atsuhiro is a gentleman- a bit of a flirt, but a gentleman nonetheless. He’ll always help you, take amazing care of you and give you whatever you need without a second thought. However, during sex he is a different person. He feeds a bit off of your helplessness. He wants to watch you struggle- whether it's roleplay or bondage- he wants to see you twist and turn, bite your lips and be flushed in your face. He thrives on seeing you squirm, the way your legs tense when he runs a gloves hand over you or even the way that you act naïve, begging him for help with doe-eyes. It fuels a bit of his need to be there for you, to give and fulfill your wants while also making sure he is pleased as well.

Impact Play- The marks he leaves never linger for long. He prefers to spank at your bum, to let his hand arch over the fat, let his fingers dance above your sex and see the way that you grip onto the sheets or pillows in fear. He prefers his hand but he isn’t above using a belt or a flogger if you seem up for it. He loves the dark print that it leaves, the way you whine out the numbers that you can barely keep a track of. Atsuhiro would never hurt you, but there’s something about seeing you at his complete mercy, the way that you’ll cry and beg to be good, how you’re sniffling and slowly turning on your back, so careful to not rest against your sore bottom. He likes seeing his print on you, the way you cry and whine, how you’ll bend your legs and hold the back of your knees as he rocks into you. 

Risk- Atsuhiro is a showman. He likes to be the center of attention, to garner everyone’s attention and it shows. His personality is loud, the way he never reveals his face and keeps it behind a mask, and how he prefers letting people know what he’s done rather than keeping to the shadows. And that’s why voyeurism does it for him. He wants the risk of being caught, to have people see your naked body, sex played with his hands so expertly that it should be a crime. He so often wants to see you come undone, to run the risk of having people known what he’s doing to you- late trains are a special occasion when going out with him- sitting on his lap and letting the rumble of the train vibrate and move your body against him. A metal hand reaching to pull at your teats and a soothing voice in your ear to tell you to be quiet, as you struggle not to make a sound behind a closed mouth. There’s a part of him that wants to get caught, to see people’s reaction, to give a performance and show them how good you can look.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Internal Cumshots- Being inside of you bare is already so risky. He’s deep within you, huffing and panting, mindless fucking where your bodies stick together because of sweat. You feel so good- warm and soft, the lewd shucking noises enhanced without the feel of latex. But the real prize comes when he releases inside of you. He knows the risk, but seeing you full with his semen- thick, slow drops oozing out of your abused hole can get him going for another round. He can almost imagine your belly swelling with his seed. The titillating look on your face as he enters you once again is enough to make him ejaculate once more.

Mommy- He has mommy issues. It doesn’t matter whether Tomura is on top or on beneath you, he’s still a submissive when it comes to you. He’s whimpering, begging for you to touch him, all while he paws at your chest, lips kissing feverishly at every inch of your skin until he latches on a breast, the teat in his mouth and he’s humping you like a dog. You could be cuddling, threading your fingers through his hair and calling him a good boy and he’s already erect, fucking you between your thighs and begging for you to touch him. 

Somnophilia- Tomura enjoys coming into your room, watching as you sleep, climbing above you and slowly fondling you until you start to whimper and pant in your sleep.  He watches with wide eyes, pupils dilated, his skin hot and flushed and when he enters you, you’re already stretched. He loves the bit where you start to wake up, eyes blinking away sleep but slowly returning to your slumber. On the same note, he loves waking up to you already touching him, his cock around your hand as you jerk him off, your lips against his unmoving ones, trailing down to kiss at his chest.

[magnificent-nerd]

What’s his name, Marvel?

Image description: actor Haaz Sleiman, slated to appear in movie Eternals.

(NB: For the record, any of my criticism on this post is directed to Marvel Studios and Disney, not to the actor Haaz Sleiman (pictured above) nor Eternals co-star Brian Tyree Henry, whom I wish nothing but the best for.)

Now, I have some marketing moans about Eternals from Marvel studios.

It is August, 2021. 

There's been a buzz about the MCU's "first openly gay character" recently (how dare y'all disrespect Gay Joe Russo like that), and that the character, Phastos (played by Brian Tyree Henry), will be shown in the movie to be married to another man (played by Haaz Sleiman).

The MCU's first gay couple, as Marvel studios themselves keep touting.

Anyway, I wondered to myself: what's the husband's name?

So I set to Google.

I Googled the cast list for Eternals, and this a screenshot from today of the lower end of the results:

Image description: Eternals cast list from Google, where actor Haaz Sleiman is listed as “Phastos’ husband”.

Ah, no name. 

The text under the actor's name simply says "Phastos' husband".

Okay, so I went next to IMDB, to search the 'full cast and crew' section, of which there is only 19 listed as of today (and I'd expect that list to grow after the movie releases).

IMDB screenshot:

Image description: IMDB listing for Eternals, actor Haaz Sleiman has no character name listed.

These are the bottom four results on the IMDB listing, and Sleiman's "Husband" doesn't even have the word husband listed.

Below him is a named character, Karun, and two 'uncredited' characters such as 'Girl' and 'Passerby'.

Um... Right.

Now, I'm not trying to be difficult. I just want to know what this guy's name is. I also want to know: why isn't his name listed? Why isn't it easy to find?

I've browsed Google for articles on this nameless husband for the past half an hour, and the only sparse information I can find is seemingly one interview/quote that the actor (Haaz Sleiman) has given, stating that his character and Phastos share an onscreen kiss.

That's great, but what's his name?

I'm getting the impression that Husband (we'll have to just call him that for now) isn't going to have a prominent role in this movie, considering he's nameless and so far down on cast listings.

Just one up from 'uncredited', basically.

News outlets refer to his character as "Phastos' husband" only. Withholding a character's name makes no sense, unless that name/character themselves is a spoiler.

Yet... I'm not really getting that vibe from Husband, I'm getting more of a walk-on role vibe from him/this character. And if that's the case, his name won't be a spoiler, so why isn't is more widely available?

Leaving him nameless while also watching Disney/MCU pat themselves on the back for this gay rep onscreen feels disrespectful to his character.

Is he a well rounded character, or a nameless walk-on with one line?

All we know is from Sleiman's direct quote: "I'm his husband, I'm an architect, we have a child."

That's great, but did Disney give you a name?

Sigh.

I'm really trying to reserve my judgement until the movie is out (we may have to wait until 2022 if it gets delayed), and I'd love to be pleasantly surprised...

But then I remind myself this is DISNEY and Disney's track record with LGBT+ rep has often been hyped up only to fall flat and ring hollow when actually seen onscreen.

See the afore mentioned Gay Joe Russo in Avengers Endgame (2019), and LeFou's "exclusively gay moment" which was more like a vaguely gay nanosecond in Beauty and the Beast (2017). Hardly great rep.

And another barely there moment (two seconds, was it?) in Rise of Skywalker (2019) when two women share a kiss (Commander Larma D'Acy kisses her pilot wife Wrobie Tyce) in celebration at the end.

I rather fear we're going to get another two seconds, blink and you'll miss it, kiss between the two married men in Eternals.

Disney is putting so much emphasis on any visibly gay couple being MARRIED in order to kiss (while Hetero characters kiss and more without being married), attempting to package their gay characters as homely, 'respectable', and more palatable to a Het audience, but if one of these characters doesn't even have a name then how is it any better or more meaningful than the nanosecond that 2017's Beauty and the Beast served up?

How is a character going to matter when he doesn't even have a name? You're trying to tell me he'll be important to the story, to audiences? Doesn't seem like it from here.

Now, I'd love to be pleasantly surprised.

I'd love to see this character in Eternals get a name other than "Phastos' Husband" (I'll be keeping an eye on listings for a name, too.) I'd love to see him have lines, I'd love to see him onscreen generally. 

I want to see him matter.

As always, Disney wants us to 'wait and see', a line they often feed us when it comes to MCU characters.

Disney knows queer fans are here, they prove that enough by leaning into queerbaiting with their marketing (Bucky Barnes, and more recently Loki have suffered from this) but Disney rarely delivers anything satisfactory.

Writer Russell T. Davies, of fan favorite show Torchwood, recently said that Disney's attempts to show Loki as bi were "a feeble gesture". (He's right and he should say it.)

I'm not exactly holding my breath with Disney here, but I'll wait until I see Phastos and Husband for myself before I decide if it's any good or not.

Or if this poor dude ever gets a name.

In the meantime, all I want to see is Disney treating this supposedly ground breaking new character with the same respect as the other cast: list his name.

List his name with the rest of the main cast.

It shouldn't be this difficult to find out a character's name in a major movie, and especially not if the studio is making a big deal about the character being there, giving themselves points for rep.

If that name is out there somewhere (I gave up looking, it shouldn't take longer than thirty minutes to locate a name for God's sake), then it needs to be made more prominent so fans can find it.

Google and IMDB would be ideal places to have the character name listed.

If IMDB can list 'Girl' and 'Passerby' onto the uncredited roles, then we should also have a simple NAME for this Husband so we can start using it.

What's his name, Marvel?

~*~

Do YOU know what Husband's name is? Tell me!

#PhastosHusband

Originally posted on my blog, magnificentlynerdy.blogspot.com

[elliotoille]

Do you have any advice for understanding hands better? I’ve been practicing them for years but feel like compared to other aspects of anatomy it’s the one thing I haven’t seen much improvement in. I draw both from life and images and draw nearly everyday but nothing I’m doing seems to help

I personally get by mostly from remembering poses that I’ve already practiced a ton, like I figure out how to draw it once and am able to file that away in my brain and use it again later, and tweak bits of the pose or the level of simplification to suit what I’m drawing. 

I’ve paid special attention to drawing hands for like.... most of my life so I have a LOT of poses I’m easy comfy with now, but when I need to figure out something complicated or new, I can usually work it out by breaking a hand down into shapes, remembering a few key points/”rules” from what I’ve learned about hands in order to help me break it down in a way that makes sense. And if that’s not enough either, then I take photo refs. 

^^^ here is a pose I use a ton. I have a quick way of drawing it from various angles. the first time I had to draw a pose like this, I had to think and figure it out, but in drawing it a bunch of times and having to use various angles like this, I’ve eventually come up with a quick, reliable way to draw it from a few of the most common angles that fits the style I like to draw in. I’m blessed with a good memory for observations, so when I see a beautifully posed hand, I can usually really quickly analyze what I like about that pose and why, and that helps me absorb it so I can recreate my saved impression later. But I know not everyone thinks the same way. it might benefit you to quickly scribble down a study in a sketchbook when you see a pose you find beautiful and want to learn from for later.

^^^ here are some poses I had to stop and spend time figuring out, calling up the “rules” for how hands are built to kind of logic-out how they should look from angles I’m less familiar with. results can be mixed, but... if I end up with something expressive that fits the style of the rest of the drawing, I’m usually really forgiving of fudged anatomy or slightly wonky proportions. as long as the thumb is on the right side and there aren’t too many fingers, that’s a great start lol.

^^^ and here are ones I had to take reference-selfies for. I try to use this as a last resort because 1) it’s a lot of trouble 2) interrupts my drawing and 3) if I’m not careful I stick too close to the reference, and the drawing ends up with the hand looking referenced and the rest of the pose not, which is jarring to me. not to mention I have tiny manlet wrists that without fail, look horrific and emaciated in photos, and the lens distortion makes my fingers look scary too... ugh, photo reference has definite flaws. I actually don’t like the look of drawings for which I can Really Tell the artist drew from photo reference, because most often that means they’re taking the ref too much at face value and incorporating ugly lens distortions into their drawing. so I have to think extra hard not only about interpreting the ref, but also might have to make multiple passes just to get the hand to look normal, AND match the style of the rest of the drawing.

Anyway, here are some of the ““rules””” I mentioned earlier that I fall back on to help me figure out more complicated poses:

1. probably seen this before, but basic proportions. the palm is usually half the total height of the hand. obviously you can mess with this purposefully. 

2. I think of joints as like, ball joints or hinges. I find that easier than trying to remember bones & muscles. here’s a drawing of the wrist as a hinge. note that when you’re thinking of it this way, it’s a shortcut, but a shortcut is only good if you use it with precision. notice the pin for the wrist hinge is not just halfway, it’s closer to the top of the hand. being precise about that is what allows this shortcut to work. the heel of the palm juts out, while the top of the hand transitions into the wrist quite smoothly.

3. simplified planes. planes are important yo. in super simple terms: top is flat, bottom is round. this works on the fingers too, actually. the tops are bony and tendony, and the bottom is where the fat is, so it’s rounder and soft

thinking of the hand as abstract shapes REALLY helps simplify the task of drawing hands, and is just as helpful even if you are drawing from reference. I can say “the palm is a box” and obviously the palm is not really as simple as a box, but if I think of the palm, wrist, and each finger joint as various shapes of box, then all of a sudden, psychologically, my task is SO much easier. I’m not drawing a Hand, which is hard, I’m drawing boxes, which is easy.

4. that prominent knob some people have on their wrist? that’s on the pinky side.

1. the knuckles aren’t really a flat row on top. the hand is like a cup right, so your palm can hold water and things. so we can think of the hand as a box to make figuring out the pose easier, but when it comes down to it, you’ll want to make it more of a curve. this curve is why you can see multiple fingers in a side view

2. when curled up, the fingers nestle together. the fingernails also turn slightly toward the center. even if I’m simplifying the hands significantly, I usually still draw the fingernails because they are SO useful for communicating the pose of the hand effectively.

3. lots of people suggest to think of the hand as a mitten, grouping the pinky/ring/middle fingers and singling out the index finger. this works great, the index finger is more independent from the other three. on the flip side, those three are really stuck together; if you’re drawing the pinky curled up all the way, then you better not draw the ring finger sticking straight up, cause that would HURT. anyway, singling out the index finger leads to more interesting poses in my experience.

1. this is another illustration of top = flat and bottom = curved. this is a really easy way to organize your line quality. straight lines and sharper angles where there is bone, and soft gentle lines where there is muscle and fat. your drawing as a whole will read very clearly if you find some guidelines like that to stick to, as it means all your lines are intentional and thoughtful.

2. this one’s about overlaps. when forms overlap, it makes a crease, and when you draw that crease you’re communicating which form is in front of the other. in the second drawing I reversed all the creases, and it looks.... messed up. think about how pieces connect.

so when you’re trying to make up a pose without using specific reference, I think it’s good to think about the.... flow of energy through the pose. honestly, I know it’s really abstract, but if I have an ability to make interesting poses that communicate weight and movement, the things that make people say your character feels ALIVE, like they really EXIST in a space... it’s because I started to think of poses this way. imagining streams of energy bouncing through the body, flowing down the limbs and out through the fingers. this is why hands are so important to me, cause they’re where the kinetic energy of the pose ultimately ends up. I talk about it when drawing the torso and arms and legs, but an interesting drawing has a bounce back and forth between opposites: for every curve, an opposing straight line, alternating back and forth down the entire body. if you’re sensitive to the energy of the pose, then even very simple poses will be interesting to look at.

anyway, with regards to hands, I imagine the energy getting sort of cinched in as it passes through the wrist, and then emanating out through the fingertips. I hope my drawing at least SORT of communicates this imagery. it makes sense because that’s BASically how the bones in the hand are anyway. and then the right side of the image above is just demonstrating some highly simplified gestures. see how the fingers fan out and curl in, rarely parallel to eachother. when you’re figuring out the pose, using a line to stand in for the row of knuckles is super valuable.

aaand finally, here’s two hands where I intentionally neglected correct anatomy and proportion because I felt it worked better for the style of the whole drawing. Left side: since this is a really simple and cartoonish style, I was thinking back to kids’ and shoujo manga I have read where the style was very solid and distinctive, but definitely NOT overly concerned with correct anatomy, or even really drawing hands, uh, “well” at all. to me, that sort of approach has a Look that I like to invoke sometimes, since for years I felt like I learned a bunch of anatomy and proportion and drawing from life actually in detriment to the liveliness and appealness of my drawings. this hand is mushy and makes very little sense, but it turned out as intended. Right side: sometimes I like to pretend fingers only have 2 bones in them, cause i am a Queen and i do what i want

and there you go. I hope that helped, like, at all? Look at real hands and photos of hands and hands in motion, but also look at drawn hands as well. find what you like, and work towards expressing that yourself. and remember the hand is part of the whole drawing. not only in the art style like I’d been talking about, but because the angle and placement of the hand is reflected in the angles of the arm, which in turn reflects on the angles of the shoulder, which affects the whole torso, etc etc etc. and the techniques you can use to understand and draw the rest of the body, works on hands too. as you improve everything else, your hands will improve as well.

DISCLAIMER: I whipped up these diagrams quickly, they’re not meant to be good drawings or accurate refs, just diagrams to illustrate my thought process lol

[discotechque]

till my hand shook with the way I fear

pairing: abed nadir/nby! reader word count: 1.6k rating: T

me and abed have neurodivergent solidarity and for that, we would be besties. also the mc in this is specifically non-binary so whatever.

There's clear haze that settles over the bar, that's the first thing Abed realizes once he settles into the space. It's dim, like most bars are and he assumes that's the charm of places like these. Jeff and Britta are adults ( he is too but he's overlooked and therefore his opinion is mute ) so he follows their guidance. Watching from afar, observing their inebriated choices while downing another shot.

He doesn’t get the point of alcohol, much less bars, and it seems the whole point is to get pleasure after an initial sting. A sharp weight that lays in the back of one's throat before elation rips through you. Bourbon burns through him with too much consequence, gin coats his mouth with a bitter tang, and wine falls flat on his tongue.

Maybe it's his upbringing, he's never witnessed his father take a sip to this day, or the pressure that rushes to his frame when he's offered a drink. Abed understands the appeal of bars, it does not mean he shares the same sentiments to them. They're noisy little backend places where melancholic characters come to waste away their sorrows, typically finding pathetic people who drool over glass rims.

However, he is not pathetic ( even if his oldest friend is rounding his seventies and community college all seemed like a folly ) and he had never been overtly dripping with melancholy. So he stood by the small arcade game in the corner, unbothered and safe, until someone offered kindness.

And he takes miles of that even if all they've given was an inch because even if he isn't pathetic or melancholic, he is greedy. He likes eyes being on him because he has so many thought he wants to share with one mouth that can only do so much. Abed is not dumb, he knows what the man wants and how his friendly touches are slowly rising above his knee.

He knows what the man wants and isn't surprise at his outburst once learning that the feelings isn't reciprocated. There's streams of Mint Julep dripping from his jaw and lashes, softly mumbling about his love for Farscape before having it degraded. Abed knows he deserves it and was warned by Annie that people are sensitive ( but he is not held by the bounds of common decency or empathy no matter how hard he tries to keep his mouth shut. )

Then, he remembers the man's proposition ( the only reason someone would be interested in him ). He isn't familiar with being viewed as a sexual object and men weren't unwelcome in his eyes. Gay? Is he gay? Maybe something that exists within the unorthodox box that is sexual realization? The questions sound so foreign even within the echo chamber of his mind.

He's in a dingy bar celebrating his best friend's birthday, this is not a time for the sexual exploration of his subconscious ( although he saves the thought because he considers if not now then when ). The drink is seeping within his clothes, it's going to stick if he doesn't move. He needs to fucking move.

And he does, swiftly pulling himself away from the chair and heading towards the bathroom. Wherever that is, Shirley said it was in the far back and Annie said fair left. Yet, she meticulous as ever so what if she always assume her left is everyone's true left and Shirley is vague with her directions but it doesn't even seem to be enjoying her time here at all.

He's not enjoying it either if he's honest. His loose shit now sticks to his chest and he knows it would make sopping sounds if the man's glass was any larger. Jeff brought them here to celebrate because they're all adults and Troy deserves to have a birthday party in style but if all Jeff and Britta do it bicker, doesn't that make them children themselves? And if he shares his companionship with them, does that make him and all the others children by association?

He's going nowhere with this train of though, this he knows but it can't ever seem to stop. His brain becomes a leaky faucet that can never be screwed back just right so it drips and drips just like the alcohol does along his jaw and lashes. Abed wants to go home but he's with his friends and it's his best friend's party and it'd be so rude of him to leave so soon. At least, that's what Annie tells him.

( Parties were far and few between when he was younger and even then, he cannot replace family functions for beings that truly care for him. )

But then he remembers you, nursing an iced tea in the corner because you are not interested in bestowing wisdom onto Troy that you do not have or participating in anybody's shenanigans. Bars are where people come to hook up or fuck up, you proclaimed on the car ride here, there's no in between.

Then he hears it, bursting against his ears as a smile splits across your face, a discotheque pop song that might be pleasant if it wasn't so overwhelming. His hand involuntarily taps against his thigh in tune with the rhythm. It helps sort out the sensations, the noise is different than the bland flavoring of water, and he knows what's what but it all feels the same in his mind.

Abed's eyelids shut, another involuntary tick he can never seem to shake, and his hand has created it's own beat. Rapid and rushed with no real rhyme or reason except for the fact that it's something that will tug his mind away from everything. ( It's the same thing he does when he's at the edge of a rollercoaster, it makes him safe. ) If everyone else can sway to a rhythm, why can't he?

"Hey," an unexpected voice softly call out to him ( tenderness within this group almost borders on unnatural ). Abed slowly opens his eyes to see you, you call out to him. He feels his hands move away from his pants, tangled within your fingers instead as you gaze at him with earnest. "five things you can see?"

Your hands feel polished, no—plush. He's afraid that if his thumbs press too hard, he'll begin to meld into your being. That's a great idea for a movie, he thinks and he knows you've been his muse from time to time. Maybe it means something, he's not willing to deep any deeper.

His eyes scan the room for a brief second before he rattles off, "The wooden floors, the bartender, the door, the chair behind you, and Annie still trying to be a Texan."

Her accent still lingers within her mind, poor acting for someone so involved a role they've assigned for themselves. The though nearly amuses him but he's getting off track, he needs to focus on you. On the way your hands gently rub over his knuckles and needs to ignore this growing pit within his stomach on whatever that insinuates.

"Four things you can feel?"

"My feet against my shoes, my jeans against my legs, how hot my ears are, your hands."

You don't let go even after he's mentioned it, instead he receives a squeeze that sounds throughout his body. A continuous cycle the runs on until you ask him for something he can taste, he doesn't know what lingers within the crevices of his mouth. ( He'd want it to be you and licks his lips without a second thought. ) Yet, settles on the answer Mint Julep.

Something about thinking this way must be wrong, he shouldn't want to keep holding your fingers or gaze into your fervent irises. He shouldn't be attracted to someone like you and shouldn't be searching for so many reason on why he has to tear himself away from your presence. Still, shouldn't doesn't stop him from doing so.

Maybe his hands have melted into yours, it'd be a good excuse on why he can't bring himself to let go. The song changes again, how long has he been in this small little world with you?

"Hey, it's Mazzy Star, this fucks so hard." he's heard of this before, maybe you've shared it with him. It's less grating on his ears, smooth melodies being shifted on strings, and he watches you sway from the corner of his eye.

( He likes to be watched but something about you commands all his attention. )

Still shifting from foot to foot, you turn to him with a far more lax expression. Both shifting into familiarity as you ask, "You wanna sit down?"

"Not really," he shoots back suddenly but you're not perturbed at his fast response reflex. However, his heart sinks as the next words tumble from his lips. "but we can stand here and sway?"

You don't pull your hand away from his, instead, pressing into his fingers as you ponder a reply. Perhaps you think this isn't real as much as he presumes you'll humiliate him for even asking. But you don't and another smile splits down your features, large than the last one he saw from across the room.

"Of course, Abed Nadir has a genius idea. Let's do it."

You don't move him from this space you've cultivated with him. Instead, wrapping arms around his neck as he places them on your waist ( he never went to prom but this is better than any teenage fantasy ). Moving side to side, never shifting around in a circle but rather awkwardly figuring out a steady pace while his stares becoming fonder while the night grows.

Abed still doesn't get the point of bars but he can figure it out the next time he's here with you.