#woring on a formative post

[charmac]

ack sorry I was rude about the bathroom problem script I misunderstood what you meant </3 thank you for being a great resource for the sunny stans

No worries lmfao I was being crypto maybe unnecessarily but more for fun… trying to lure people to my blog… lol

But I promise my main goal here is to make sure fans have access to as much Sunny content and resources as possible!

That’s my whole motivation for this blog, after years of searching the depths of the internet for old stuff and running into dozens of dead links (why!! @alwayssunnyfxx !? why did you privatise/delete so many videos!?) and watching almost every social media site fall apart to bad AI search and bots, I want a place where that’s not going to happen (as long as Blogger stays in existence, I guess)

It’s definitely a work in progress, and there’s still a lot to come, to be added and collected, scripts included, but hopefully we will soon have a great resource and fun and interesting site for the community, and a place for great future content and, of course, Season 17+ updates :)

[bunnithechubs]

her house smells like fabuloso y ✨brujería✨

[kholnt]

lost hero drawing dump of things that i never posted

guys its time for: OLD LH ART ALERT!!!! WEE WOO WEE WOO THESE ARENT RELIABLE!!!

[mizzical]

arei in my outfit! 🌸

[biggestthighestgeminiest]

Here are my combined thoughts about Barbie (2023) as I saw it on the 18th and have had more time to think abt it.

Some good, some bad - overall I very much enjoyed it, laughed my ass off, cried quite a bit, was enthralled by the set and costume design, but left feeling like some things were off and perhaps not accomplished in the best way. This will all be delivered in bullet points in a very chaotic and random way and is NOT ordered in importance omg. Anyways i love media analysis and I will probably not explain this in the best way but HERE WE GO

the casting was fantastic, everyone read the assignment and lived their campiest life, margot robbie was phenomenal and ryan gosling absolutely killed me with laughter, glorious glorious

set design, costume, props,, perfection when it comes to bringing the mattel products to life. bangin'

i had that stupid fucking dog that eats and shits. i lost my mind when he came on hsdgkhakh

the message of barbie being representative of all little girls is still very lost on me. the idea brought up when barbie speaks to the teens, where they tell her that she gave them unrealistic body standards- well this never really gets resolved at all. Yes there was a diverse range of Barbies but they were all still beautiful in a conventional way that adheres to western beauty ideals. every barbie has perfect hair and skin and clothes even by the end of the movie. and yes i guess barbie is supposed to be this "above everything else" sort of divine feminine beauty but is still not representative of most young girls. as hilarious as the line narrator's line about margot robbie is, it sort of knows itself, that it is showing us the most perfect looking women, but doesn't address it at all beyond a simple joke. honestly what will mattel do beyond this? i imagine people will be more than happy with this movie so they won't have to make any big changes. i mean their "curvy" fashionista isn't close to being fat, and i don't believe they will ever make a barbie that isn't conventionally beautiful... so this movie just sort of gets to say it's about accepting yourself without actual real-life substance if that makes sense? it reminds me of that cartoon of all those diverse yet conventionally attractive models, with diverse people who don't fit those standards standing outside that box looking angrily. what's the point of the film at the end of the day when not addressing all those people left out of the conversation? also made me annoyed that cellulite was still the big thing that barbie was concerned about, like really?? it's a bad example as people are coming to embrace cellulite and it's also relatively easy to hide, i don't think they would have margot robbie have like, idk, dark under eye circles or a double chin,, idk someone say this better than me but the cellulite thing annoyed me (as someone who has loads of it!!)

the plot was BONKERS and i for one don't really care about plot holes or cartoon logic. there were some things that made me overthink about barbie lore and then i thought to myself that it doesn't really matter. the campiness of it is more important. im sure it will deter some people but again i dont mind it being silly in that way as long as it delivers on its messages and themes, which it does to a certain extent

absolutely lost it at the you are kenough shirt, ljadhkglkhd

as i said in a previous post i predicted that it was going to be the mom who was paired with barbie. i loved the idea sm and it was very heartwarming

i CRIED when barbie first sat down and watched the humans around her living their life, she was so overwhelmed by so many emotions and it was such a simple moment of show-dont-tell and man did i weep :))

i LOVED the ken bits and i did feel as though there was a bit too much ken. especially at the end. but at the same time i loved the dance sequence. its hard loving it so much yet wanting it not to have been to prevalent. i felt like it took away from the barbies a bit which goes against the whole point of the movie????

um the barbie's plans of distracting the kens was... i guess reminiscent of all these spy or superhero movies where women use their beguiling nature against men to get the upper hand? like i am woman so i will flirt with man to distract while my team escapes and hooho it works :)) it was slightly different and not overly sexy or about flirting but it still had the same undertone. like really? the best way to get the other barbies out was to continue to conform to patriarchal standards and pump the ken's egos? surely there's a better way? yes the kens are idiots and turning them against each other works but it still felt a bit icky. i guess i just find this trope annoying being like... ok i am being taken advantage of men so i will USE the thing they oppress me for against them,, idk surely surely there's another way.

also America's character's plan of kidnapping the barbies and ... using very true and very valuable feminist lines to snap them out of it felt... weird? like what she was saying was 100% true but taking them out of context and almost using them as one liners made them feel less serious???? like making women "wake up" by just telling them about how the patriarchy takes advantage of them is just... idk. like in real life women who are indoctrinated and truly believe misogynistic things won't just wake up by being told such a line. and i know the barbies are brainwashed to forget their powerful feminist backgrounds so it's not entirely comparable to the women i just mentioned but... idk it felt disingenuous. i did laugh my ass off at the guitar scene but it still had that ickiness attached like..

i would watch this movie again, no doubt about it and i will definitely pick up on new things and easter eggs etc

mattel's board did make me laugh, perfectly casted and performed but again- mattel has its name on this. they know what they are doing. they know we will love this movie and not demand any change. it will still be full of men controlling the output of production. it will still put out products that don't reflect all young people's desires. it will still make products that uphold current societal norms. so having these buffoons in the board meeting just gets soured a bit when knowing these people will still be in power in real life....

the ruth bit made me cry and no i do not care that her ghost is just around. i loved it

the marketing team knows exactly what they are doing. the huge push of promotion made me gobble up all their interviews and im sure people will be buying all the barbie products. i am yet another victim of capitalism and i will thank them for it when i inevitably buy their you are kenough sweater

again i loved this movie despite all the bad things abt it. i love being critical of the wider impact of this movie while still enoying it as a piece of media and entertainment. i needed this movie and fuck it i want to go to barbieland so bad. i know i shouldnt. i love ken and think about ken more than i do barbie which is fucked up but the movie also played into it in a way,, as described before. i mean even ryan gosling being so iconic in all the interviews is adding into this lol. how many people are posting videos of him vs videos of the actresses i wonder.

also cockring ken. BUT HE WASNT WEARING THE COCKRING SO WHATS THE POINT EVEN???

the narrator was an interesting choice, personally wasn't a huge fan of it but it did somewhat fit with the rest of the cinematic language of the story so i can't say much about it

mattel knows exactly what its doing with putting its name on this movie. i think greta did a great job despite the constraints that mattel probably put on her,, it's hard to tell if the flaws of the movie come from the corporation's infuence or from the writer and director's creative decisions, most likely it's a combo of both. again i believe that the actors and designers and production team did a fantastic job with what they had, they committed to the bit. i would have loved for the movie to have been better, but it is still a great film in my book. as said before i would watch it again and would still enjoy it despite the flaws. the himbo part of my brain can shake hands with the media literacy one and emerge with an overall positive experience, yet PLEASE do not think this is the ultimate feminist movie, it is a step in the right direction, it could have been better, and i understand if you don't like it at all. but also i dont think it would be right to blindingly love it and call it perfect bc it's not.

[doctorofhopemoved]

Me: has 13's sexuality listed as pansexual (and genuinely believes the Doctor in general is.)

Also me: would never ship 13 with A Man. I just can't imagine it. Give me all the women and nonbinary people, though. <3

[emeritiii]

Hmm WIP

[loststolenorstrayed]

Not a fan of immortality though wtf would I do with that. Think about blorbos for Longer?

[soupcrouton]

Taking a splash potion of damage continuously.

[reinemichele]

⚠ Flashing lights warning

Translation here

(Just for tonight, I wanted to cut loose and have a good time Hey, where did my midsummer go? Hey, are we going home just like that...?) The perfume scent I worked up the courage to wear vanished Beneath the smell of gunpowder smoke from the fireworks I want to grow closer, but Your friends are there; I hate summer The night breeze cools down the excess heat Waves of people flow toward the station I want to gently touch you, but I'm sweaty, so I hate summer Ah, the flow of your conversation with her Leaves absolutely no gaps for me to cut in None at all Hey, to tell the truth... I don't want to go home like this, no, no! Just for tonight, I wanted to cut loose and have a good time— My earnest heart's seriousness got in the way! Just for tonight, I wanted to cut loose and have a good time— That was what should have slipped from my mouth Just for tonight, just for tonight... I don't want to make the kind of memories That I can talk about with everyone. When I get asked "What's wrong?" I just smile; I hate myself for that Ah, at the traffic circle where love is in the air One by one we part, bye-bye Hey, is this the best I've got? No, no! If I could make selfish requests just for tonight I want you and I to gaze into each other's eyes If I could make selfish requests just for tonight I don't need to gaze at the starry sky Just for tonight, I wanted to cut loose and have a good time– I kept it buried deep inside my heart Just for tonight, I wanted to cut loose and have a good time– I was supposed to let my feelings show Just for tonight, just for tonight... The reason I didn't wear a summer kimono...! And my hair pricking away at my eyelids...! What should I do to be able to shine?! I want to cry!! You've got to notice me, no, no! Just for tonight, just for tonight..! (Just for tonight, just for tonight) No, it's nothing... Goodbye.

[muirneach]

god the early 00s tennis drip was insane. guys were showing up looking like they had a match at 3 and a backyard barbecue at 5. lets see jannik in cargo capris and the baggiest polo shirt known to man

[fursasaida]

This article is from 2022, but it came up in the context of Palestine:

Here are some striking passages, relevant to all colonial aftermaths but certainly also to the forms we see Zionist reaction taking at the moment:

Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by this white minority [i.e. the whole white population post-apartheid as a minority in the country], particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. As with white South Africans who had celebrated the end of apartheid, their enthusiasm often belied, just beneath the surface, a striking degree of fear, bewilderment, disillusionment, and dread.

[...]

Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent. Contemplating South Africa after apartheid, an Economist correspondent observed that “the lives of many whites exude sadness.” The phenomenon perplexed him. In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged an attitude of forgiveness. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to some perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes.

But as time wore on, even wealthy white South Africans began to radiate a degree of fear and frustration that did not match any simple economic analysis of their situation. A startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer of betrayed expectations and thievery, fear and unbridled greed.”

What accounted for this disillusionment? Many white South Africans told me that Black forgiveness felt like a slap on the face. By not acting toward you as you acted toward us, we’re showing you up, white South Africans seemed to hear. You’ll owe us a debt of gratitude forever.

The article goes on to discuss:

"Mau Mau anxiety," or the fear among whites of violent repercussions, and how this shows up in reported vs confirmed crime stats - possibly to the point of false memories of home invasion

A sense of irrelevance and alienation among this white population, leading to another anxiety: "do we still belong here?"

The sublimation of this anxiety into self-identification as a marginalized minority group, featuring such incredible statements as "I wanted to fight for Afrikaners, but I came to think of myself as a ‘liberal internationalist,’ not a white racist...I found such inspiration from the struggles of the Catalonians and the Basques. Even Tibet" and "[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] also fought for a people without much political representation … That’s why I consider him one of my most important forebears and heroes,” from a self-declared liberal environmentalist who also thinks Afrikaaners should take back government control because they are "naturally good" at governance

Some discussion of the dynamics underlying these reactions, particularly the fact that "admitting past sins seem[ed] to become harder even as they receded into history," and US parallels

And finally, in closing:

The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, has written that, by most measures, its aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated. [...]

He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”

[llcvegood]

luna lovegood tag dump.

i'm half child half ancient.

✧ dossier. | i'm half child / half ancient.

✧ musings. | creativity is the highest form of intelligence.

✧ visage. | she wore wild flowers in her hair.

✧ owls. | different doesn't mean wrong.

✧ interactions. | you can't always be strong; but you can always be brave.

✧ development. | the world is big and i am not. but i am still enough.

✧ all posts. | you are made of stardust and wishes and magical things.

[bunnys-kisses]

the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two

[ur-local-neighborhood-scene-kid]

DHMU I JUST FELL IN LOVE WITH ANOTHER VAMPIRE 😭😭😭😭😭

[nerdy-novelist017]

The Ride (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 2)

Wow, I truly didn't expect all the love for the last post! Thank you so so much! Here's a part two baked fresh just for you lovelies! ;)

( Also! I'm going to work on putting together a masterlist for my fics for him since I have so many ideas)

Ps. please send me requests for this man i'm going feral over here from all the possibilities

Part 1 here

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 1.9k

-Minor NSFW Content-

Summary- You thought getting on the bike would be the hardest part. Having to unwrap your legs from his waist and get off at the end of the night was significantly more difficult.

*******

Despite the fact that you knew there were multiple people surrounding you, all cheering, your eyes were glued to Benny’s form as he swung a leg over top of his bike. He kickstarted the motorcycle, the muscles in his thigh flexing through the faded pair of jeans he wore. The engine roared to life and it took everything in you not to jump back. Benny glanced over his shoulder, and the look in his eyes all but dared you to run away, to take it back and return to the safety of the car. 

But some underlying competitive streak in you flared and you clenched your fists tightly. You approached his bike and he took your purse and Tupperware bowl, tucking them away in his back compartment. He leaned forward and awkwardly swung a leg over his bike, attempting to repeat his action as you mounted, but the movement caused your dress to slide up to reveal a generous view of your upper thigh. Blushing, you glanced at the onlookers who cheered and whistled at the sight, but Benny seemed to ignore them. Without looking, he reached back, his hand enveloping your thigh, sliding it higher so that your foot found the footrest. Heat instantly blossomed from the contact and you physically resisted clenching your knees tighter around him. 

“Hang on tight, Little Bunny,” he murmured as he moved his hand to grab your arm, gently guiding it forward to wrap around his waist.  He revved the engine and you tighten your grasp over his waist, eyes closed as the bike began to slowly roll forward over the grassy field. The cheers subsided into the wind that tugged gently at your hair. You’re going on an adventure, it seemed to say, but you refused to open your eyes.

Heart drumming in your chest, you hoped to spend the entire ride with your eyes screwed shut, pretending to be anywhere else, anywhere safer. But then the bumpy and uneven field soon turned to smooth blacktop as he maneuvered the two of you onto the backroad. You felt the bike increase in speed slightly and you dared to peek an eye open. Corn fields blurred as you sped by, the setting sun seeming to light the horizon with a brilliant show of deep oranges and purples. A gasp escaped your lips and you pressed yourself closer to him in a desperate measure to not fall off, hands flush against the curve of his abdomen.  

He rode with one hand, you realized, and it painted a picture of a cowboy in your mind. Had this been the 1860s, Benny would have ridden his horse like this, a model of a true outlaw with his dangerous persona and ruggedly handsome appearance.

The world sped by, or rather you sped by the world as Benny drove down the center of the yellow lines. You couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped you as he leaned the bike to go around a turn. He took you down roads you’ve never been before, pointed out interesting things and places you’ve never seen. True to his word, he didn’t go very fast, never faster than the speed limit at least. But regardless, it was an adventure – both frightening and fun and your heart never seemed to return to its slower rhythm. Despite the fact that you've never ridden on a motorcycle before and the uncertainty of your next destination, there was strange sense of safety that invoked you as you breathed in Benny's scent, hands clasped tightly to him. As the sun completely dipped below the horizon and the temperature dropped, he finally asked you where you lived. 

When he did eventually pull up to your house (hours later), the rumble of the motorcycle seemed to echo off the houses, disturbing the peaceful silence of your quiet neighborhood. He cut the engine and the toe of his boot kicked out the kickstand, shifting your combined weights to the side slightly and the air was once again filled with silence. The muscles in his back flexed as he leaned back ever so slightly, his head turning to glance back at you over his shoulder.

He held an arm out for you as you awkwardly dismounted, heart pounding again. A strange sense of disappointment panged in your gut as the bottom of your heels made contact with the blacktop. You stood there before him, eyes now level with his as he remained seated casually on his bike. Keep driving, you wanted to tell him. Keep driving and let's find our way to the end of the world together. You wanted to hop back on the back and wrap your arms around his waist. You wanted to ride with him till the sun came up over the horizon, just this once, just because you’ve never stayed out till the sun came up. Your family would worry, your father would be pacing up and down the hallway just inside, but something in you longed to throw caution to the wind, to do something naughty. 

You bit your lip as you broke eye contact with him and looked down to your feet. What were you thinking? You played life by the rules. You were a good girl, that’s what your parents called you. That’s what your teachers called you. That’s what you were raised to be. That’s all you knew how to be, what you were comfortable with. Benny . . . he made you uncomfortable. He filled your belly with butterflies, made your heart pump harder than normal, made the spot between your legs tingle. All things that dangerously threatened to upend the perfectly planned life you had. Trouble, plain and simple.

You got what you wanted – a ride home and a bit of excitement. You got close enough to the fire without getting burned, got to play a risky game for the evening. Now it was time for you to go back to your routine life. That perfectly . . . boring life. 

“Thank you . . . for the ride,” you said softly, the adrenaline of the adventure smothering into ashes. 

He nodded and you watched as his cyan gaze moved from you to your house behind you. “You still live with your family?”

“Yeah,” you replied, heat touching your face. “Why?”

He looked back at you. “Just gotta know what kind of house you want after we’re married.”

“What?” you balked at him, stomach dropping like you just took a plunge off a bridge.

He smiled and leaned an arm forward, resting casually on his bike as if he didn’t just say something shockingly direct. He offered no help, just watched as you attempted to sputter a response.

“M–married? We . . . I don’t . . . even know you.” You breathed out a nervous laugh. You went for one ride with him! You had only had a handful of sentences exchanged between you, the majority of those spoken with a crowd cheering around you. Who did this guy think he was? 

He shrugged as he slid his hands into the front pocket of his jacket and retrieved his pack of cigarettes. “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity. “I’m not marrying you!”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” He looked amused as he flipped open his lighter, the flame casting his face in an orange glow as he lit one of his cigarettes. Your protests wavered slightly as you watched his hands cup around the flame in an effort to protect from the wind and his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the cigarette tucked between his lips. A phantasm of his hands cupping your breasts, his tall frame hovering above you, lips pressing softly against your collarbone tainted your mind and you took a step back to put physical distance between you and this man. 

Swallowing thickly, you continued, “Well, I don’t even know your last name–”

“Cross.”

“–And I don’t even know if I like you!”

“I think you like me,” he said confidently and you snapped your jaw shut at the accusation. “Why else would you let me drive you home?”

“W–what if I just used you to get me home?” you countered quickly. 

“Did you use me, Bunny?” he drew out the sentence with an almost painfully seductive smile. You furrowed your brow, irritation flooding your veins. He was quick, you’d give him that.

Benny studied the way your lips pursed and he wondered if that was something you did while you were angry or if it was your way of finding another excuse. He wanted to spend the rest of his life finding the answers to your facial expressions, the meaning behind your almost undetectable quirks he was discovering with each minute spent in your company. And my god, those those lips . . . his eyes fell down to those soft lips of yours, fascinated by how he wanted to feel them wrapped around his—

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Cross,” your voice brought him back to reality as you reached forward and grabbed your purse and empty Tupperware bowl from his bike. “But I–I have no intentions on marrying you. In fact, I doubt I’ll ever see you again.”

“Hmm, okay,” he feigned being hurt by your words. “Whatever you say, kid.” 

You shot him a frustrated look. “What’s with all the nicknames?”

He held up his arms in mock surrender. “You don’t like ‘em?”

"I don't think they're very accurate."

He raised his brows at you, unconvinced.

“Yeah? Well, I got a nickname for you.” you retorted. 

“And what’s that?” He played along to your game. 

“Trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Mh-hm.” You nodded and lifted your free hand to brush the wind-whipped hair from your eyes.

He shrugged and spoke around the cigarette in his mouth. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that. You think I’m trouble, Bunny?”

An exasperated sigh left your lips and Benny felt a swell of pride at the reaction. This was fun, teasing you like this. The blush tainting your face, a clear sign of your flustered reaction, made his heartbeat quicken. 

“Goodnight, Benny,” you said a little firmer as you turned and walked up the sidewalk to your house. 

“Goodnight, Bunny,” Benny called out as he watched the sway of your hips as you climbed the front steps. You shot him one last look over the curve of your shoulder before you opened the front door and slipped inside. Benny sat on his bike outside your house, his mind reeling as he finished his cigarette. He hadn’t felt this excited in a long time and hadn't felt this kind of adrenaline since his first ride. This was a new kind of ride, Benny realized. Something exhilarating and arousing gripped his heart when he looked at you in your pretty little dress with your innocently wide eyes and pouty lip. The primal instinct of taking you in his arms and laying you down onto your shared bed, his body shielding you from the rest of the world played in his mind the movie. He wanted to grab your hand and show you just how exciting life could be with him. Not to change you, he’d make sure your integrity was protected, but to broaden your horizon.

And maybe it made him selfish, but Benny's never had anything as good as you in his life and because of that, he wanted to be your guide throughout every adventure going forward.