#'space but make it ~gay~' that is so not the point of that book. like at all.

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[transannabeth]

hi. for people who saw gatsby: an american myth. do you remember mckee asking nick for lunch. and then gatsby in like the next scene inviting nick for lunch. because i remember.

[lvllns]

every time i see someone say that the darkness outside is a romance set in space i’m like. not.......really.

[renthony]

In Defense of Shitty Queer Art

Queer art has a long history of being censored and sidelined. In 1895, Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was used as evidence in the author’s sodomy trials. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the American Hays Code prohibited depictions of queerness in film, defining it as “sex perversion.” In 2020, the book Steven Universe: End of an Era by Chris McDonnell confirmed that Rebecca Sugar’s insistence on including a sapphic wedding in the show is what triggered its cancellation by Cartoon Network. According to the American Library Association, of the top ten most challenged books in 2023, seven were targeted for their queer content. Across time, place, and medium, queer art has been ruthlessly targeted by censors and protesters, and at times it seems there might be no end in sight.

So why, then, are queer spaces so viciously critical of queer art?

Name any piece of moderately-well-known queer media, and you can find immense, vitriolic discourse surrounding it. Audiences debate whether queer media is good representation, bad representation, or whether it’s otherwise too problematic to engage with. Artists are picked apart under a microscope to make sure their morals are pure enough and their identities queer enough. Every minor fault—real or perceived—is compiled in discourse dossiers and spread around online. Lines are drawn, and callout posts are made against those who get too close to “problematic art.”

Modern examples abound, such as the TV show Steven Universe, the video game Dream Daddy, or the webcomic Boyfriends, but it’s far from a new phenomenon. In his book Hi Honey, I’m Homo!, queer pop culture analyst Matt Baume writes about an example from the 1970s, where the ABC sitcom titled Soap was protested by homophobes and queer audiences alike—before a single episode of the show ever aired. Audiences didn’t wait to actually watch the show before passing judgment and writing protest letters.

After so many years starved for positive representation, it’s understandable for queer audiences to crave depictions where we’re treated well. It’s exhausting to only ever see the same tired gay tropes and subtext, and queer audiences deserve more. Yet the way to more, better, varied representation is not to insist on perfection. The pursuit of perfection is poison in art, and it’s no different when that art happens to be queer.

When the pool of queer art is so limited, it feels horrible when a piece of queer art doesn’t live up to expectations. Even if the representation is technically good, it’s disappointing to get excited for a queer story only for that story to underwhelm and frustrate you.

But the world needs that disappointing art. It needs mediocre art. It even needs the bad art. The world needs to reach a point where queer artists can fearlessly make a mess, because if queer artists can only strive for perfection, the less art they can make. They may eventually produce a masterpiece, but a single masterpiece is still a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of censorship. The only way to drown out bigotry and offensive stereotypes created by bigots is to allow queer artists the ability to experiment, learn through making mistakes, and represent their queer truth even if it clashes with someone else’s.

If queer artists aren’t allowed to make garbage, we can never make those masterpieces everyone craves. If queer artists are terrified at all times that their art will be targeted both by bigots and their own queer communities, queer art cannot thrive.

Let queer artists make shitty art. Let allies to queer people try their hand at representation, even if they miss the mark. Let queer art be messy, and let the artists screw up without fear of overblown retribution.

It’s the only way we’ll ever get more queer art.

_

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[highvern]

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 

“You know those things will kill you, right?” 

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?” 

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 

“They were out.” 

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines. 

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?” 

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[sarasade]

One of the most generally useful things to come out of Hbomberguy's plagiarism video and Todd in the Shadows' similar video on misinformation is how they bring transparency to the internet phenomenon of "I made up a guy to get mad at".

Seriously, I've seen people make up a lot of stupid shit on the internet over the years and it's often just a manipulative attempt to paint a group of marginalized people in a bad light.

That's the TL;DR version of this post. 

ANYWAY here is the long version

Those videos are mostly about James Somerton's plagiarism of other queer people's work. However I'd like to talk about that 20-30% of Somerton's original writing- and oh boy. It's mostly about complaining about White Straight Women and misgendering well-known trans creators such as Rebecca Sugar and calling Becky Albertalli a straight woman while it's pretty common knowledge that she was forced to out herself as bi because she received so much harassment over "being a cishet woman who appropriates LGBT+ stories".

One thing that irks me especially is how in his Killing Stalking and Gay Shipping videos Somerton brings up how straight women/ teen girl shippers exploit gay men for their personal sexual fantasies. This gets brought up several times in his videos.

Being all up and arms about Somerton being a "White Cis Gay Who Hates Women and Queer People tm" is not that useful because the kind of rhetoric he's using is extremely common in fandom and LGBT+ spaces on Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter. We really don't need to bring Somerton's identity to this since he is in no way an unique example.

It's hypocritical to make this about an individual person when I've seen A TON of posts, tweets and videos where queer people talk about these Sinister Straight Women who are supposedly out there fetishizing and exploiting queer men. It's pretty clear to me that this is just an excuse to shit on women and queer people for having any sexual interests. At worst these comments are spreading misinformation about BL, a form of media that has been excessively studied by both Asian feminists and Asian queer women.

This all sounds really familiar and I think it's good that people are calling it out as what it is: misogyny and transphobia. I'd also point out the potentially racist motives behind being this hypervigilant about Asian media.

People can absolutely be misogynist regardless of gender or orientation. I really don't know why we need to create some kind of made up enemy to get mad at. I actually think it's almost sinister how "anti-fujoshi" people call Slash shippers and fujoshi misogynists or claim that they have internalised misogyny while being dismissive about women's interests and creative pursuits under Japanese obscenity laws, China's censorship, book bans in American schools and various other disadvances that are part of being a queer and/or female creator.

I think we shouldn't be naive about the bad faith actors who want to turn queer people against each other. For example Fujoshi.info mentions anti-gender (TERF, GC etc) movement using this kind of rhetoric as well.

Anyway if you want to read more:

- about the false info around BL fandom fujoshi.info

-There is the scholar Thomas Baudinette who studies gay media in Japan. Here is a podcast with him and the scholar Khursten Santos

-James Welker is a BL scholar as well. Here is a podcast interview about the new international BL article collection he edited.

-I've already talked about this Youtube channel by KrisPNatz and his great Killing Stalking video that actually engages with the themes of the manhwa

- There is also HR Coleman's thesis DO NOT FEED THE FETISHIZERS: BOYS LOVE FANS RESISTANCE AND CHALLENGE OF PERCEIVED REPUTATION where she interviews 36 BL fans and actually breaks down why fetishization has become such a huge talking point in the fandom discourse. Spoilers, it's mostly about young queer people and women being worried that they will get judged and pathologized for their interest in anything sexual.

-Great podcast about Danmei and censorship with Liang Ge

[mochirizu]

A collection of WK headcanons because I can

MARTIN - 28, 5'10, he/him, December 23rd(Capricorn)

BIGGEST heart on the team. Sees good in everybody

He's like if someone gave a golden retriever a human suit.

BANNED from the kitchen he CANNOT COOK at his ancient self

He pulls the 'big brother card' a LOT

He LOVES to sing, but nobody has the heart to tell him he sucks so they just...let him

He loves so easily

Martin makes the stupidest dad jokes

He labels his things with a blue sticker so he can keep his stuff organized... he still loses things

He taught himself Mandarin Chinese out of sheer boredom; he is now almost fluent

He needs people to like him or he will DIE

Do not give him coffee; he will be insane and hyperactive and then go awol for the rest of the day

CHRIS - 24, 5'8, he/him, July 19th(Gemini)

Burned-out gifted kid? Yes

His experiments normally consist of him using Martin as his guinea pig for payback for all the jokes he got pulled on as a kid

Loves cinnamon-flavoured anything

He also has a pretty high spice tolerance

Used to be friends with Zach in preschool, but it stopped not long after that

He climbs trees because he's a sensory seeker.

Chris is an avid tea drinker

He is also the best dancer on the team

Chris was such a geek in high school, he didn't 'glow up' until he was 17

Since the Tazzy incident, Chris occasionally has cravings for raw meat but chalks it up to low-iron

The only one on the team with a consistent sleep schedule

AVIVA -26, 5'5, she/her, April 5th(Aries)

Her dad raised her to be tough and strong, therefore making her a perfectionist and a maniac lol

Aviva loves Hot chocolate with Marshmallows, and watching nostalgic cartoons

She has a nasty habit of comparing herself to others and gets ridiculously insecure when anyone challenges her opinion. She masks it by being defensive and doubling down

Beautiful by default(duh) but she doesn't see it

She has a nasty older brother who was the stem of all her insecurities

She found a grey hair once and cried

She was cheer captain in high school, hence her athleticism

Aviva is messy as hell. Like, more messy than Martin.

She also dislikes mud

The worst dancer on the crew(I'm sorry), but she's the most talented singer

NEVER lets her hair down, it gets in the way too much.

KOKI - 27, 5'4, she/they, Feburary 13th(Aquarius)

Raised by a single dad(parents divorced)

Grew up basically rich, but was kept humble

Koki's uncle taught her mechanics before he passed away when she was in middle school

She had a pet canary named Booboo

She has pent-up anger issues

LOVES Zytago music as her family comes from New Orleans

She 100% has muscles and biceps. Martin is jealous

"No, I'm not gay. Everyone wants to kiss their girlfriends at some point....right?"

When it comes to cooking, she's Jimmy's sous-chef

HATES being in tight or confined spaces

Wants to style her hair in something else other than a single puff, but always gets busy before she can book an appointment with a stylist

JIMMY - 25, 5'9, he/they/doesn't care, August 20th(Leo)

Had a very normal childhood. Like, eerily normal.

Has a younger brother and an older sister and they are ALL GINGER.

Everyone in his family is a Ginge except for his mom

Jimmy can speak nearly fluent Korean because he took a gap year in South Korea after High School.

He studied software engineering but dropped out to attend culinary school instead

He is the COOKING MASTER EVER

His family is secretly wealthy as FUCK

He has his own power suit, just never uses it

Had an emo phase

Jimmy's full name is James Coleman Benedict Zeigler

Grandma Jimmena has a bunch of random stories from her childhood and they are all UNHINGED

[prince-liest]

Saw a post recently that rhetorically asked why authors and show writers leaving character sexuality up to interpretation is disappointing when fifteen years ago getting a statement that things were up to interpretation (as opposed to "Definitely NOT gay, you freaks!") was a blessing, and I make a point of never discoursing on the bird app, but wanted to share some thoughts on the subject here - particularly because Alastor is kind of a hot topic on this subject and I think he actually makes for a great example for my thoughts on this.

Honestly, as someone who did live through the "if you think my characters are gay then you're stupid and should die" era, I think it left me with the perspective that even if there is canon sexuality, then no matter what it is, you're free to then do whatever you want in fandom. People might call you a dick for it if you go about it in certain ways, but you're free to do it.

That said... that's not really what wanting canon confirmation is about. It's about having canon representation, especially for identities that we often don't see representation of. For example: Alastor being aromantic is "up for interpretation," and that specifically feels bad when it's explicitly been framed that way as a cop out to appease shippers (per Viv), especially when in canon you can see he's intended to be aroace based off of how Rosie talks about him.

Yes, things are better now than they were 15 years ago... but standards are higher now, too!

And in particular I think that while in 2008 or so, "It's up to interpretation!" basically meant "Yeah, they might be gay but I can't say it," nowadays the meaning has shifted. I see a lot of people chiming into any mention of aroace Alastor with this attitude of "Um, actually, he's NOT aromantic because it wasn't confirmed by Viv (even though he wasn't confirmed to NOT be aro either)," rather than the spirit of "Oh, yeah, he might be aro, that's a valid interpretation!" It actually feels very similar to seeing people go "Well, X is OBVIOUSLY straight (the default) because he wasn't confirmed to like men!"

...in 2008, haha.

Anyway, fandom always feels to me like a 'do whatever you want' zone, but I think just based off of the sheer volume and depth of genuine and heartfelt reactions people have had to Alastor as a character and his portrayal as aroace... having canon representation and seeing yourself in media you enjoy matters a great deal to many people.

I had a really emotional moment when I read my preorder of House of Hades from the Percy Jackson series back in middle school and realized that Nico di Angelo was an actual gay character in an actual real, physical book that I was holding in my hands, not "just" a headcanon from my nebulously safe online fandom spaces, for the first time ever. Similarly, people have been headcanoning various characters as ace for a long, long time, but to me it's never had the same punch to it as it being official when it comes to those kinds of feelings re: representation.

So leaving that kind of thing "up to interpretation" specifically as an alternative to providing representation to a group of people who rarely sees it is disappointing, but it's not for shipping reasons.

[thegreymoon]

Mo Ran is so gay it isn't even funny.

Now, this is just my opinion and I realise other people have their own interpretations, but this whole episode is super telling to me of just how unreliable his narration is about having tons and tons of sex with people of both genders in his previous lifetime. He's just so... oblivious. None of this reads as a man with a lot of previous experience with many different people. He did not pick up on her flirting with him at all. Sure, he did have a lot of insane sex in his past life, but as the book unfolds, it becomes very clear that most of that sex was with Chu Wanning. At best, there were only a handful of other people he was involved with, and one was a prostitute he was paying, while the other was his wife whose relationship with him was also transactional.

I know people argue that he is bisexual because he married Song Qiutong, but when we actually get her POV on their marriage, it turns out that they had unenjoyable sex only a handful of times, at least one of which was him taking her from behind and very much imagining that it was Chu Wanning in her place. There are plenty of gay men who end up married to straight women (and vice versa) for whatever reasons and none of this makes them any less gay. He also identifies as a 'cut-sleeve' himself at one point, so he doesn't seem at all confused about his sexual attraction to men. Later on, when we finally get his unaltered POV on his life in the brothel, it comes out that he considered the girls there as sisters at best, never as sexual partners. The only other named sexual partner is Rong Jiu, who is male, and I can buy that there were possibly other people who looked like Shi Mei that he was with under the influence of the cursed love spell, but there was never any real attraction there, which is why some argue that he is attracted only to Chu Wanning and would still be attracted to him regardless of gender.

But I think that this is also not true. He definitely was obsessed with Chu Wanning from an early age, which makes it hard to see what his preferences would have been if Chu Wanning wasn't in the picture, but that chapter when he finally realises his feelings also reveals that he does have a type, which he never dared to think about before because he thought he was unworthy of having a choice. However, Chu Wanning fits this type to a tee, so it's easy to run away with the idea that he is shizunsexual and that Mo Ran's attraction begins and ends with him.

With that said, we do get confirmation later on that he does find other men attractive, in particular, Jiang Xi. It's just that he never has the space or the inclination to do anything about it because of his preoccupation with Chu Wanning. In the extras, when Mo Ran misunderstands Xue Men's relationship with Jiang Xi and thinks they are having a love affair, in his unfiltered Taxian-jun state, he is full of approval because he personally finds these powerful, beautiful, prickly, emotionally unavailable older men to be the height of attractiveness. If Chu Wanning hadn't been in the picture, Mo Ran would have definitely been attracted to Jiang Xi or someone similar. Even Ye Wangxi, whom he also fixates on, fits this type (except for the older man bit because I understood her to be only a few years older than Mo Ran). The fact that she turns out to be a woman also cannot be used as an argument for Mo Ran's bisexuality because she very much presents as a man throughout the book (but whether or not she actually identifies as one is debatable).

In short, Mo Ran does have a type of man he is attracted to and it is definitely men that he likes, regardless of his few dubious and very unsatisfying dalliances with women. While Chu Wanning definitely fits this type of ideal man, there are other men out there whom Mo Ran finds attractive too, it's just that he is too unhinged about Chu Wanning to actually do anything about it. Also, I very much doubt that Mo Ran was nearly as promiscuous as he makes himself out to be because he reads as very oblivious when it comes to sexual relationships in general. Even with Chu Wanning, who was right there and about to pass away from sheer horniness that he couldn't even begin to disguise, Mo Ran was still going, "Shizun is so pure and virtuous!" 🙄

(I'm not going to get into the whole Shi Mei situation and how badly he misread him every step of the way too, but that is because his brain was so badly mangled by him that he really stood no chance on that front until it was entirely too late.)

[paranormaltheatrekid]

Use this as an excuse to dump a bunch of Hatchetfield headcanons, go wild.

Wow ok here we go:

-Ted Spankoffski is a pineapple pizza enjoyer.

-While we’re on the topic of Ted, Tinky definitely keeps clumps of his hair in a bag somewhere.

-Like Richie, Steph used to have dyed hair at some point.

-Becky Barnes is very much an animal person. She definitely got multiple pets once Stanley was gone.

-I didn’t create this headcanon, but I just adore it: Duke named his cat after Miss Holloway.

-Paul likes ice Carmel frappes. He just orders black coffee because it’s easy for Emma.

-Alice Woodward listens to Chappell Roan religiously.

-Webby’s favorite brother was Wiggly. They used to be really close.

-Miss Holloway definitely had the gift even before she made the deal. She saw Webby and stuff.

-Ruth is a Hamilton fanatic.

-Despite the fact that he didn’t make it, Pokey loves the phantom of the opera. He tries to make Paul be Cristine. He hates it, obviously.

-Xander Lee is John’s husband.

-Max and Stephanie were childhood friends.

-Lex and Ethan are bi4bi

-The nerds cosplay together. Ted takes them to conventions and teases them about it, but he secretly loves going.

-Miss Holloway runs karaoke nights at the diner. Her and Duke do duets together.

-Richie’s favorite food is the Miku ramen.

-Hannah Foster likes the Percy Jackson books.

-Also, Hannah didn’t speak until she was like 10 or 11.

-Charles Coven had involvement with Peip. He knew John and Wilbur.

-Nibbly is either the best cook ever or burns everything he touches. No in between.

-Shelia Young and Linda Monroe are both heavy red wine drinkers. Also, Shelia knows the Murrays through the church so she definitely knows Linda.

-I’m not really sure about this one, but I think it would be cool if Miss Holloway was related to the Waylon family.

-Max is secretly a musical theatre enjoyer.

-Kyle isn’t in the best of you scene because Grace killed him before Jason.

-Grace learned how to bury bodies from watching the Jerries. Or perhaps she learned from her mother.

-Benji, the kid who was said to have been able to talk to dogs in yellow jacket, was Scrags from the solve it squad.

-Blinky is an avid smut reader.

-Hannah made Ethan a bracelet. It’s his prized possession.

-Grace used to have a crush on Alice.

-Wilbur Cross has green eyes, like bright green. Idk that he doesn’t. I think he should.

-Charlotte makes her own sweaters. She gave the CCRP gang ones for their birthdays. Bill and Melissa love theirs. Paul hates his. Ted pretends to dislike his, but he’s glad that she made him one.

-Melissa and Woman are gay and in love.

-The reason that Webby taught Hannah how to play the ukulele was because her brother Pokey taught her how to play instruments.

-Linda’s mom was definitely a honey queen.

-Pete is really interested in space. I think it suits him, but also know he can be the space bastard to Ted’s time bastard.

-Forever and Always!Paulkins adopt a dog and multiple kids.

-Nibbly’s human forms are inspired by past honey queens.

-Zoey and Zach used to be very close as kids.

-Steph is very good at makeup. She practices her skills on Pete.

-Some movies Miss Holloway likes are labyrinth and the princess bride. She will not watch a movie made past the 90s. Brenda calls her old.

-Paul doesn’t hate Moana. He is the only one who knows all the lyrics.

[decolonize-the-everything]

There are straight men in power banning trans people, outlawing queer books, and banning gay marriage again, and we're about to have a woman president cosigning genocide.

I think maybe the queer community needs to stop engaging what is at this point blatantly psyop discourse meant to make us hate each other. This isn't even veiled homophobia. Like it's just homophobia. Straight men are misogynist too. Men in general even so it's bizarre that this person specified queer men.

Like I'm sorry Gay Gary fucking sucks and is a man that worships patriarchy, but he also makes minimum wage at Starbucks so maybe we have bigger things to worry about than specifically making Kevin feel unwelcome in queer spaces.

Like any of the 500+ anti-lgbt bills that were presented this year. Or actually codifying gay marriage. Or if you care about women, getting Roe v Wade codified or changing constitutional language so that the rights of men will ALWAYS apply to all genders, Not just men or white men or white women (like in the case of voting). Or you could support the Equal Rights Ammendment and organize more support for that.

Keeping misogynist gay men out of gay safe spaces isn't gonna give any of us rights or protections even if it does make the space more welcoming for women and femmes and I know ppl aren't gonna like this but if you really find that necessary then create additional spaces specifically for that purpose.

Because queer/LGBT spaces are for ALL queer/LGBT people. Being LGBT/queer is the only prerequisite.

We aren't a monolith, remember? One of the foundational arguments for our rights is that we are just people like everyone else!

Queer people are capable of being Republicans and Democrats and doctors and nurses and teachers and racists and activists and philosophers, JUST LIKE THE STRAIGHTS. Just like everyone else! And it's our right to be treated with the same complexity and freedom to be as they are.

It's not a reflection of their orientation. Nobody is going around like "yeah if you're straight you shouldn't be voting Republican" because they aren't being dehumanized and having their entire being reduced to who they do/don't sleep with and having their identities regulated by their choices.

Don't do that to each other.

The point of community is being a community. You don't abandon the community you have cuz your community will the ONLY people that have your back. At the end of the day gay Republicans also need a gay bar to retreat to and be comfortable and themselves at. And when they're there they're grateful that at the very least nobody is gonna give them a hard time for being gay.

Bitching at gay men about misogyny is basically a mean lesbian past time, besides. Stonewall happened because the Black drag king, Stormé Delarverie, who got clubbed and fighting cops was just being ogled by other lgbts who just watched and she yelled, "why don't you guys do something?" so they did. In fact, Stormé Delarverie often patrolled the area with a rifle to keep lesbians safe.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And do you think she stopped to do a tally of who's problematic and who wasn't before they started to de-arrest Stormé? Do you think Stormé would have just let lesbians be harassed if they were racist?

No.

Cuz when that Republican gay needs backup against homophobes you know who he's gonna call? That mean lesbian who ripped into him about misogyny that one time and would fight anyone if they were acting ugly. At the end of the fucking day we are the only people who will look for each other. Quit acting otherwise and fighting with each other.

To deny someone a safe space is to deny part of their humanity.

Idk when the queer community forgot that but I hope this serves as a reminder.

[three--rings]

So for obvious reasons I have been thinking about IWTV a lot recently, and thinking about the books a lot. I was OBSESSED with The Vampire Chronicles when I was in middle school, into early high school.

But something that I think may not really be clear to people reading them now, or to people who only know the show, is that there's a reason the books got away with being so incredibly queer and being Bestsellers in the 70s, 80s and 90s: there was no sex.

If you're unaware, in the books, Anne Rice's vampires cannot have sex. They are impotent, sex in the human way is just not a drive they have anymore. Instead physical connection is all about sharing blood. (For the record I think the show is right to have changed this. It's not worried about censorship on that front and having sex as part of the relationships makes them way easier to communicate to the audience.)

So while the books are very homoerotic, homoromantic, and at times quite suggestive, they never have on page sexual activity, they never label relationships with explicit romantic terms like lover or husband, characters never declare their sexuality. (In early books at least.)

What this meant is that The Vampire Chronicles existed in this Plausible Deniability space where anyone who had read them realized they were gay, but they weren't LABELED AS SUCH and therefore mainstream audiences didn't know that was part of it.

So me and my friends could be 11 or 12 carrying these books around our Catholic school and didn't get anything said about it. One of my English teachers had read the first one, and we talked about it, and her only complaint was that it wasn't philosophical enough for her. But she was cool.

So, I KNEW Louis and Lestat were in love. I knew Lestat had male and female lovers. And it affected me PROFOUNDLY because it was the first depiction of queerness as anything but a joke I ever encountered.

But it wasn't "gay fiction." If it was the target of right wing criticism it was about being satanic, not queer.

I was thinking of the 4th book in the series, which I read when it was first released, in 1992. In it, (spoilers) Lestat becomes human again. And he turns to his human openly gay friend David and says "omg I'm human. Let's HAVE SEX!"

Reading that and the fucking THIRD EYE that opened for me is BURNED into my memory. I remember how scandalous that was, because it was ON THE PAGE. Here was a book with men talking about having sex with each other. And I was reading it! And it was just casual and nonchalant. (Unfortunately they don't actually do it, to my young disappointment.) Despite all the queerness that i'd experienced (and recognized) already in the series, THAT was shocking.

You can't know what that was LIKE to a kid in 1992, before the internet was anything more than bulletin boards, before fanfiction online was really a thing. And these weren't niche novels, things only people in liberal literary circles read. They were massive, massive bestsellers.

IDK, you know. I have given Anne Rice a LOT of shit in my time, and she's deserved a lot of it. But she also performed some miracles of representation that affected a lot of people. IDK if I even have a point. Just. I was remembering what it felt like. To encounter a gay character in fiction for the first time, talk about gay sex for the first time.

I don't think it's an accident that me and my friend who shared this obsession both ended up being bi. We passed the books back and forth and pointed out the really juicy sections and other people were never quite as into these books as we were even when we made them read them.

[nhasablogg]

Are you falling in love? I've a feeling you are

Fandom: Red, White and Royal Blue

Characters: Shaan, Henry

Summary: Once Shaan notices Henry's crush on Alex he can't not notice it.

Words: 1.1k

Shaan, despite what people might think, doesn’t spend his days watching Henry. Helping Henry, yes. Being close by and attentive and adapting to what is needed of him from both a professional and a personal standpoint, yes, but he knows the prince needs his space and therefore doesn’t linger unless he needs to. This means it takes him a while longer than he’s willing to admit to realize Henry has a crush on Alex, who always seems to sneer whenever Henry is near. Shaan thinks it might be a problem for only a second before he starts feeling sorry for him instead.

Once he sees it he can’t unsee it. Henry forcing himself to look into Alex’s eyes. Henry fidgeting with his shirtsleeves whenever Alex is near when he thinks no one is looking. Shaan knows that Henry’s gay - got to witness him coming out to him during a very low point when he thought nothing was worth it after his father’s passing. Shaan knows he’s gay and he knows why Henry can’t let it show that he might be falling for the First Son of The United States, but it doesn’t mean that behind the scenes, when he squints and pretends Henry is just a normal 20-something-year-old, it’s not strangely cute how flustered he gets about it. How he seems perfectly fine to never interact with Alex ever again while simultaneously doing everything but somersaults whenever they do.

“Alex is coming, right?”

Shaan looks up from his crossword. Henry’s sitting across from him on the jet, his own face stuck in a book, as if his question was simply a passing thought he’s nearly forgotten about already. But Shaan can see the tint of pink on his cheeks. Can see the way his knee is bouncing.

“I would assume so.” They’re alone in this part of the plane, so neither of them bother with titles or formalities. “I’m sure he will be delighted seeing us there.”

Henry cracks a smile, which makes him look so much younger than he is. Shaan sometimes sees flashes of Henry as a teen, especially when he’s being vulnerable or relaxed. Before the tragedies, when he had an easier time smiling.

“He’s a pain in the arse,” Henry says fondly. They are still teetering on the line between acquaintances and friends, but Shaan expects them to tilt over soon. Expects being dragged to the States more often than not in only a few weeks, which, secretly, he’s quite happy about.

“He can certainly be quite an interesting character.”

Henry snorts and puts his book down. “Tell me about it. The other day he insulted me by calling me pretty. Isn’t that strange?”

Shaan leans back and watches the blush spread over Henry’s face and tries not to smile. “How exactly did he turn it into an insult?”

“He said something along the lines of my face being so pretty he wants to punch it.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“But then he started laughing.”

“Ah.”

Henry ducks his head, maybe realizing he’s treading dangerous waters. “Maybe it was just an insult.”

“Did you think it was a compliment?”

“No-”

“Did you want it to be a compliment?” Shaan has never tried to approach Henry about his feelings like this before. Not because he thinks he will be overstepping - Henry has spent many drunken nights describing certain activities with slightly too much details to him and Bea - but because he’s not certain if Henry’s coping with this crush by pretending it’s not happening at all. Shaan thinks, rightfully so, that he has enough on his plate already for him to be forcing confessions out of him as well.

But he doesn’t regret what he said, he realizes as Henry snaps his mouth shut. He has a feeling they’re about to see much more of Alex Claremont-Diaz soon, and he needs them both to be prepared for it.

“I, uh.” Henry twists his head to the side, but no one else is around them, and so he turns back to him with a hushed, “Maybe?”

Shaan does smile then. Can’t help it when the prince is sitting bright red in front of him, squirming like a teenager. “Good to know.”

Henry’s laugh is nervous, high pitched and giddy. “God, I’m so fucked, aren’t I?”

Shaan pats his knee. “We’ll figure it out.”

*

Shaan does watch him now, wondering if Henry will be able to handle the blooming friendship. He admitted to how long he’d been crushing on Alex and Shaan mentally facepalmed at not having caught it.

“It’s okay,” Henry said with a laugh. “I was very good at hiding it. I do admit it was easier when we only saw each other twice a year though.”

So Shaan now watches him to make sure his feelings are hidden well enough and hates himself for it.

It’s different when they’re alone and Shaan can hear their laughter through closed doors, sometimes with Nora and June and Pez and Bea. Whatever Henry chooses to display then is up to him, though Shaan has a theory that Henry would rather die than confess to having feelings for Alex. It’s a bit of a shame, because Shaan is pretty certain Alex has a crush on him too, but doesn’t really know it yet himself. But the times he gets to watch them, whether they’re in a booth or walking through corridors, and Alex goes out of his way to touch Henry (which Henry will be freaking out over later, he’s sure), he notices how Henry leaning into the touch doesn’t deter Alex at all. On the contrary he seems to start touching him even more, all arms slung over shoulders and knees knocking into knees and squeezes to sides and thighs once he realizes Henry’s ticklish. Shaan watches his prince giggle under Alex’s hands and is struck with such sadness that he has to keep this hidden.

*

Shaan keeps watching them, mostly to make sure no one catches them. Seeing Henry happy and in love is just a bonus. Because he is 99% sure Henry’s in love with Alex and that their friends with benefits situation is going to ruin him if it ends badly. He watches them and tries to determine if this is simply a good time for Alex, and he feels it isn’t. He feels he’s just as into it, just as invested, and then Henry of course starts pulling back because he can’t for the life of him figure out how he will be able to keep this up while living the type of life he’s living. Shaan hates that he can’t blame him for it.

For a while, before Henry tries to end things, it’s all hotel rooms and secret meetings and flying across the ocean too many times than he can count. It becomes a bit tedious, but Shaan never complains. Not when Henry all but glows every time he sees Alex.

“I’m not glowing,” he protests when Shaan brings it up, and Shaan doesn’t say anything about the way he smiles when he says it.

[moodywyrm]

bookish lil crush

college au! Abby Anderson x bookworm! reader

she is occupying my every thought I want her so bad but here!!! a lil series of thoughts I had about abby bc she is so cute I wanna hold her hand. occasionally nsfw/suggestive at times so MDNI pls go away u can’t be here I'll block u 

also listened to do I make you nervous by dreamer isioma while writing this! I am also!!! so down to talk about these books and other books pls talk to me about books in my asks I love reading so so much and so does abby! or talk about college abby bc she is rotting my brain away 

wc: 1.7k im sorry idk how

Thinking so much about Abby developing the most debilitating crush on the cute girl in her class who is always early and always reading

Like one day she decides to show up to class earlier than usual, bc she usually gets there like 5min before class starts and gets stuck with weird seats or super packed aisles that had the only seat open and it really sucks

So out of spite she just starts showing up unreasonably early (1hr before class) to make sure she gets a good seat and low and behold there is no class in that room before her english class (bc I firmly believe she would do an english minor and like maybe kinesiology? I have not put too too much thought to her major but i would love to hear opinions!), so she gets her pick of the entire room!

She nestles into the third row bc it’s the perfect spot! Not too far back to be easily distracted but not immediately in front of the professor. I think she’d pick an end seat, but the ones next to the wall and not the aisle bc she knows she’s a bigger girl and she doesn’t want to make people like crawl over her to get a seat and she’s always super aware of how much space she takes up anyways

There she is! In her lil seat! An hour before class just hanging out! She’s checking her laptop and her phone and getting her note-taking situation set up and god she is so regretting not bringing like a book or something bc this is a lot of free time and it would be perfect for reading and then!!

Like fifteen minutes later you show up and she doesn’t really notice until you sit in the same row as her, a few seats down

She looks over and she is f l o o r e d bc who is this cutie??? Have you always been in her class??? How did she not know??? She thinks ur so cute in ur lil outfit, how much shorter you look compared to her, even in the seat, ur headphones in and ur music barely audible and she’s just staring at this point and oh god oh no you notice and now she wants to crawl into a hole and decay 

You, unbeknownst to her, are completely Awestruck by this absolute goddess of a woman who is suddenly sitting in your row and thank god she didn’t take Your seat that you have been sitting in since the class began and oh god ur not gonna change seats now so you have to sit next to her

So you act Natural and pull out your stuff as you usually would, including your current read!! Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo!! Very good very gay and oh my god you hope the mystery girl sees the girls on the cover and gets the hint and you hope that she also likes girls bc wowowowow!!! She’s even prettier the closer you are to her!! And she looks so strong!!! Her arms so big and now ur head is spinning bc she could probably pick you up and mandhandle you and do whatever she wanted and now ur completely off track bc she is just so pretty

And she is staring at you!! So you panic a little bit and send her a lil smile and wave and her heart damn near stops because One she got caught Two ur so fucking cute so she Composes herself and waves back and then

Just turns back to her laptop

Like a coward. Bc u are so cute and she wants to talk to u so bad so Obviously she can’t bc she can and will make a bigger fool of herself than she already did

n this makes you sad bc duh, she’s so cute u thought she was gonna say something but no :( so you just start reading ur book and u get so into it that u don’t notice that abby keeps looking over at u! And she thinks ur so cute! Bc ur so focused and there’s this lil crease between ur brows from how hard ur focusing on this book and oops now she’s trying to look at the cover without u noticing and oops now she’s typing it into her browser and would u look at that! It’s in stock at her favorite bookstore! so now she knows what she’s doing after class instead of homework!

so u two sit and u read and she watches and floats aimlessly on the internet and then class proceeds as usual and abby feels so much better in this seat! She can actually hear and see without being stuck with ppl who talk during class or are super distracting on their laptops bc ur the closest to her and ur a diligent little notetaker! truly the best idea she’s ever had good job abby :)

Immediately after class she hauls ass to the bookstore and picks up the book u were reading (and maybe two more ok she has little self control in here it’s fine her dad is a neurosurgeon) and she starts reading it that day and omg!! She loves it!!! She reads like half of it in one day and forgets to do her homework and oh shit okay she has to bust out two discussion posts before midnight and now she’s panicking but it’s fine she’s got this!

the next time she has that class, she brings the book with her to read beforehand and u show up! But with a different book :( she’s so sad she wanted to talk to u about this one but u probably already finished it! So, of course, she pulls out her phone and writes down the book ur reading now, In A Lonely Place by Dorothy B. Hughes

she is both kinda shocked that it’s so different, some old crime novel but it sounds interesting so after class she runs back to the bookstore to get it and it’s there!! She didn’t even bother to check if it was in stock but it was! obvs the universe wants yall to have this connection so ofc she buys it and starts reading it the next week bc school caught up to her and it took a second to finish the first book :(

so she’s so excited when she shows up to class that week with the book, which she hasn’t started yet! And then u show up! And omg she might cry bc u have another book again :( ur just so fast she cannot keep up but she is gonna keep trying!

another two weeks pass with another two books and by now ur starting to notice that she always seems to be reading the last book u read and u don’t know if it’s intentional but if it is that is so sexy of her and u will hold her hand about it

so u decide to test it! u slow down on ur reading speed for the next book and u intentionally pick a less popular one (???)  bc at that point what are the odds it isn’t intentional? So u show up with When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore for the next three classes and sure enough! By the second class she has it and she’s reading it and so are u and ur both so excited about it!!

Abby is like ninety percent sure she’s been found out but her suspicions are confirmed when u turn to talk to her, voice low even though ur like the only people in the classroom bc class doesn’t start for another forty minutes, and u ask her how she likes it, especially compared to the rest of the books and she just turns Bright Red

She’s so cute and blushy and tripping over her sentences when she tells u she really likes it even though she just started it and by god she thinks she’s gonna melt into a puddle of pure sapphic when u giggle and smile at her and tell her ur glad!! Bc it’s one of ur favorite books!!

n y’all start talking about the books you’ve been reading and ur both so into it that u completely give up on reading before class today! Not when this absolute sweetheart of a girl is reading the book u read!! For u!! Bc abby straight up tells u she wanted to talk to u but didn’t know how so she just started reading all the books u read bc that makes sense?? I mean it worked so yeah!! Makes sense!!

u scoot into the seat right next to her, abandoning ur old seat :( but for a much better one bc omg she smells so good u wanna bite her or kiss her or sit in her lap and snuggle into her :( and abby is freaking out bc u also smell good and ur so pretty she wants to hug u and kiss u and make u cre-

Anyways eventually class starts :( which sucks so bad but ur right next to her and she maybe finds it a lil bit harder to focus but it’s fine!! She gets through it and at the end of class, she builds up the courage (tbh she wasn’t really listening to the last ten minutes bc she was so Anxious) to ask u for ur number!!! Which u give her ofc, and right before u leave u nearly make her heart pop out of her chest

As u pull on ur bag, u turn to her and say that you’ll text her to set up ur lil bookclub :( maybe you can go get coffee to talk about it :) and by god that is close enough to a date for abby that she just nods dumbly and smiles and watches as you leave, a lil smile on ur face that makes her want to pull u back and kiss u silly!!

She knows then and there that she has to make u her gf or she’ll literally wither away (ofc she succeeds!! She’s abby!!!)

Anyways yeah thinking of her debilitating crush i luv her

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Movie Thoughts: Philip

Honestly I might be the only one, but I wanna know more about Philip in the movie. And at the very least, I am begging for a redemption arc in the sequel.

Because they fucking cut the Kensington Breakfast scene, we barely get any of Philip in the movie. And the consequence is while we know that just like the book, Philip is an antagonistic character, we're not sure about his stance on the matter.

So the thing is Philip in the book isn't homophobic. And by that I mean that in the most generous sense: Queen Mary straight up says it's unnatural, which is the textbook definition of homophobia, but Philip says, and I quote from Henry "Essentially, I gathered that he was not surprised to discover I am not the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be, but rather surprised that I do not intend to keep pretending to be the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be" and from the man himself "I don't care if you're gay, I care that you've made this choice with him, someone with a fucking target on his back, to be so stupid and naive and selfish as to think it wouldn't completely fuck us all!"

Philip isn't necessarily against the concept of homosexuality, he's against bringing that into their family, and is worried about the conservatives turning their backs on them because of that. In a way, his stance is closer to the King in the movie than the Queen in the book.

Other stuff we can learn about Philip from the book:

he's...kind of racist, but in the form of microaggressions (his comments on Pez during Wimbleton)

He is genuinely in love with Martha, and he's kind of a hen-pucked husband (his retelling of his and Martha's suitor photos)

He started off a people pleaser, then the Queen took that and made him an asshole (explanation of why the change of attitude after Alex and Henry's photoshoot)

He wanted Arthur's approval but never got it, and resents Arthur a bit because of that (his argument with Henry before they met with the queen)

He wants to get along with his siblings, he just kept doing it the wrong way

My point is, even though a relatively minor character, Philip's motivations and character is actually painted out pretty logically if you take a closer look. His redemption in the book, his change of attitude, it makes sense if you looks back on it.

And while I can't fault the movie for cutting down details like these, this is just the way adaptation works and Matthew did an excellent job of picking and choosing, it does leave space for questions and curiosity.

The only thing I can get out of movie Philip is 1, he also loves his wife, since they're childhood sweethearts 2, the King dismisses him 3, he didn't know Henry was gay at all.

From the deleted Breakfast scene bts from Taylor and Thomas, we know that Philip is in that scene, and that Philip sees something, and is in shock.

Bur from the bts of the Thanksgiving scene, he and Martha are at the Brownstone: he's forgiven.

So here are my questions:

Is Philip homophobic in this one? Or is he also more mad about the family aspect?

Does he, at any point in the 65 deleted scenes, act like he wants to be a brother? Like he genuinely cares about his siblings

What is he reacting to during the Breakfast scene? In the book, when Henry came out to him it was just him, Henry and later Shaan, but the Breakfast has all of the Super Five there. Is he really gonna make a scene in front of all five of them?

Why is he forgiven? What is his change of heart?

I don't know, I think it's probably just me who's wondering about him of all people. But I would really like to see more of Thomas in this role (the photobooth shoots he did with Nick and Ellie, peak sibling energy) and I'm just really interested in Henry's family dynamic in the movie-verse, given that I feel like it's less black-and-white and more... realistic? than the book? There's also part of me that's somewhat sympathetic towards Philip despite being a Henry-coded girl because I feel like if I was a less feeling person, I might have ended up just like him.

Anyway, yeah. Philip redemption arc in the sequel please!!!

[bambi-kinos]

I really enjoy your meta and look forward to more mclennon analysis. Out of curiosity, you mentioned that you think they started being physical in 1964 - is there a reason why that year specifically? Personally, I've always thought they started sleeping together in 1963, and my reasoning for that is they seem much closer in videos/photos, not to mention it was the year they "broke through", so to speak.

Would love to hear your thoughts on that!

Hmm well I guess it depends on how they, and we, define their sex life. John and Paul were sexually intimate starting since they were teenagers because John brought Paul into the group wanks. (tbh it's a miracle Paul didn't brain John with something heavy thanks to all that Winston Churchilling.) There's really no telling how it progressed from there, anything is possible with these two. Until Paul tells us the details (and I do not put it past him) then he and John could have been hooking up at literally any point in their relationship. When I think of them getting physical with each other, I'm thinking of them getting each other off with intent and purpose, and considering the style of the time this would mean penetration. Everything else can be handwaved away.

I pick 1964 because of this post: https://www.tumblr.com/got-ticket-to-ride/739464905120497664/its-the-anniversary-day-of-john-and-paul-in-paris?source=share

It's just something about it, y'know. John and Paul are in their city. They stayed up all night and well into the morning and then slept deep into the afternoon, almost evening. And then as GTTR says, "And then they emerge from their hotel room looking like a newlywed couple."

Well, there's just a certain satisfaction radiating off them isn't there?

But I do see your point: why wouldn't they be hooking up earlier? Why wouldn't it escalate physically before this? Why would they wait until Paris 1964?

I have a few reasons, they are admittedly flimsy but since we are all just making shit up then it's fine, right?

Julian was born in 1963. I've read bits and pieces of Beatles 1963 by Rees and that book is full of little chunks about John running home to see Cynthia and the baby (usually not even for a full night/day because he was so busy.) Their schedule is also packed, they are constantly on the move especially during the night because this is where they had to start being smuggled out of theaters and such. So I genuinely think that John and Paul did not have the time or the space to have sex with each other. I know I am saying this when they had time to hook up with groupies between shows but considering who John and Paul are, and what they mean to one another, I just struggle to imagine them acting that way with one another. They would want to take their time with one another and get it right. They're hopeless romantics at heart, they're both deeply enamored with the idea of "you're special, you're different" so I genuinely think they would want to take their time with each other physically and do it right. I don't think they had that time in 1963 with the way they're running all over the UK.

Then there's the Absolute State of John and Paul's relationship in 1963. Remember that the halcyon days of Paris are way in the rearview mirror at this point. In 1962 Stuart died, Cynthia got pregnant, and John had to get married to save her reputation. I can't imagine Paul reacting well to any of this though I'm sure he put his cheery stoic mask on. Then in 1963, Julian is born. Barcelona happens and John seduces Brian to get the songwriting credit that he wanted and screws Paul out of their deal. Considering this is something Paul is still angry about to this day, I can't imagine how he blew his fucking top at John when he found out that May:

I don't think Paul was in the mood for any hooking up in 1963. John has a baby with a woman, is married, then he fucks off to have a gay experience with their manager and then when he comes back he's screwed Paul's side of the business on the downlow? I would be on the fucking six o' clock news lmao, John would not have escaped my wrath. It's really no wonder Paul made a specific point of hooking up with Jane Asher isn't it? He was making a point to John specifically and John seethed about it.

However I do think that something happened in 1963 that healed the rift in the Lennon-McCartney relationship:

Paul got sick from the gastric flu and he fainted dead away in the dressing room. John was very upset and was seen pacing the room when the doctor arrived to check on Paul. This is how we know that Paul actually fainted for real, if he was just feeling feverish John would be concerned but maybe not like that. @james-winston has a pair of really fantastic posts about the aftermath of the fainting incident that I have taken as gospel and I fully apply this to any McLennon analysis I write about this period. The key point though is this:

I have a headcanon that Paul being sick caused something to happen between John and Paul that left them both feeling awkward around each other. I don't think it is was sexual, I think it was more likely that John (who thought he was cursed to have all the men he loved die on him) was afraid something might happen to Paul, and reacted emotionally to it.

This all took place in November, after the Wooler thing, after the burn from Barcelona has had a chance to soften, after they both have had time to get used to the idea that Julian exists and has a place in their lives now. I think this was enough to mend things between them. And you know what else happened the night Paul fainted? Brian secured The Beatles their spot on Ed Sullivan:

So once Brian comes back and tells them the news, John and Paul flip right back into the honeymoon phase. The wounds of the past are forgotten (for now) and they're right back in each other's pockets. I think it's around this time period that Paul was taking photos that now make up Eye of the Storm.

TBH I can imagine John and Paul hooking up at this date. If someone looked at this and said "well this looks like a prelude to sweet love making to me" then that's perfectly reasonable. There's some suggestive photos in Eye of the Storm where Paul is taking John's picture from what looks to be a bathtub while John makes faces at him. It could have been then, absolutely.

But I like the idea that Paul wanted to wait until the next year. 1963 was rough on all of them and he and John are both big on getting new starts. Wait for 1964 to roll around. Brian says we're going to Paris in February. I can wait until then.

And just this once, it was worth it.