#gay angst is cancelled

[floorpancakes]

say what you want about various things but clamp were kinda cooking when they were like 'if ur not around your gay love interest for like three hours you may just simply eat shit and fall out of a window and die' 😭

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Prompt: Tommy angst? 👁👄👁

I didn't know I needed this. But I did. And I loved it, so, thanks! I combined this prompt with one of my personal head canons that one poor soul on Discord agreed to talk with me about 😂 So, have Tommy angst (about Buck, of course) and the idea, that Tommy might not be so confident after all.

Kill the Pain Away

–– I was gonna hope to choke the fire I was gonna face up and let go Oh, I was gonna ally with the golden guising And by the light of dawn, I'd put my brave face on ––

That evening in Buck's loft was etched in Tommy's memory.

Yes, also because of their first kiss that started something Tommy hadn't expected, though he appreciated it all the more. Most of all, he couldn’t forget it because Buck, that inimitable man with his puppy eyes and this smooth face had managed to coax a secret out of him, and he had willingly revealed it. As he’d opened up, Tommy had meant every word: he had been jealous of the bonds the 118 found after his leaving. He still was, actually.

Never as much as now.

As a pilot, Tommy wasn’t able to just cancel his shift, couldn’t ask anybody to take over when he was already in the air. And so, while his thoughts were far, far below, he continued to circle above the city that seemed so much bigger than usual. And although he usually enjoyed escaping the hustle and bustle, would have exchanged the street for the clouds at any day, right now he wanted nothing more to be on solid ground. But right now, he couldn’t, and he had nothing but his thoughts and a text message he’d already stared at for about ten times. It was a tough shift, as it often was when air support was needed; it was hard to control the fire, but even harder to contain the one burning in his chest.

The text was from Hen, and he’d been wondering for half an hour whether she had only written because she felt she owed him. Those were dark thoughts, Tommy knew, but sometimes, they were unstoppable; especially up here, trapped in the cockpit which was meant to be his freedom. The message was terse, unemotional, yet it evoked so many emotions in him.

Buck injured during op. Heading to St Mary’s now.

Contrary to his fondness for Hallmark movies, Tommy wasn't interested in astrology, he didn't believe in fate and thought love at first sight was a beautiful but irrational myth. Meeting Buck, and more so, learning that the cool kid of the 118 was interested in him, had been... strange, and kind of overwhelming. As luck would have it, he made friends with Eddie very quickly, and both he and his boy mentioned Buck remarkably often. From this, Tommy gathered the man had taken his place at the 118 in an extraordinary way. They had only exchanged a few words during the breakneck rescue operation for Athena and Bobby, and when the next opportunity arose, Tommy was prepared to meet some kind of superman. Somehow Hen, Howard and even Bobby and Athena, who were adamant about thanking him personally, managed to weave Buck into every conversation.

Tommy was therefore surprised that the man turned out to be anything but one of the usual powerhouses, brimming with self-confidence; not one of those arrogant types who rush into every burning house but have no respect for their colleagues.

Buck looked like a surfer boy, but Tommy sensed that something was lurking behind this façade of sunshine. Something about Buck was purely Evan, and it was mesmerizing. 

Even more surprising for Tommy was to realize he was head over heels in love.

They had told him the man was a notorious womanizer, ironically they thought this was common ground, "you'll like him, you'll definitely have something to talk about, your exes". It was clear they meant women, because nobody in the 118 knew at this time. But Buck had sent out some very mixed signals in Tommy’s eyes, and yes, maybe he had been his gay awakening or some shit. Buck, at any rate, had been his awakening of sorts. Maybe Tommy was just a romantic deep inside, but this man, this man…

Tommy's radio crackled, and he bit his lower lip until it bled. Thinking of Buck distracted him, and that was irresponsible. How many times had his hand jerked to his phone, ready to answer the message, to ask questions, to beg for information. He hadn't done it because not only would it have been highly unprofessional; he shouldn't even have looked at the phone while he was on the job.

"10-19 for active units on scene, fire under control."

Tommy hastily tapped the intercom button, "Air support dismissed?"

"Copy that, air support dismissed."

Dispatch sounded almost cheerful, and perhaps there was reason to be – the fire was under control, according to the radio reports there were no casualties; these were the good, the satisfying jobs. Tommy, however, was anything but content. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t even interested in how the job had turned out. The cockpit was suddenly tighter than ever before, the ground much further away, and the loop he had to fly seemed to take so much longer. His hand gripped the controls so hard that his knuckles turned white.

That message could mean anything.

Anyone who was not interested in logic, in cool calculations, was not suited to be a pilot. In this respect, it was pointless to get carried away with what ifs. On the other hand, pilots without instinct were just machine operators. But his instincts weren't helping Tommy right now, except to remind him of all the things that could go wrong. Because one thing Buck really was: a fucking daredevil.

Tommy had experienced it once, during one of those dates that simply hadn’t happened because an incident had interrupted it. Every firefighter knew that a day off could very quickly turn into an emergency call-out. Like most in the services, they took it with humor, they collected the incidents and called them their overtime list, hours to make up for later in bed.

This one time, Tommy had happened to drive right past the accident on his way home, catching a glimpse of the 118 in action. Something inside him had struck a chord of wistfulness, but then he’d seen Evan. No, at that moment he had really just been Buck. Buck, who threw himself under a burning vehicle with a child trapped underneath.

Every firefighter suffered injuries at some point. They all had scars, and they were unduly proud of them. But some of them did not boast about the strength of the fire in which they were burned, nor about the weight of the steel that had trapped them. Some scars were rarely shown, and some were internal: all these were from saved lives. And Tommy knew what it was like to be the one to whom this happened. The one who was hurt. No one was really prepared for the pain, and no one liked to remember it. What Tommy hadn't known, however, was what it would be like to be on the other side. Anyone who got injured was afraid; a fact that was often left out of the bragging stories. But that kind of fear was completely different to the one he felt now, this fear was terrifying.

And how did this happen in the first place? A pair of blue eyes and a sunshine face, that wouldn't have been enough to penetrate his façade in the past. But somehow that's what it was all about. To look behind the guise. Making yourself vulnerable without hurting. Because what was really deep inside was beautiful, worth letting out and discovering –but it was still terrifying. He had only known the guy for a few weeks. Buck had stormed into his life, throwing himself into this crazy rescue operation with determination, a look in those pretty eyes that clearly said, you better get on with this, because I will walk through fire for these people.

There was something about him that magnetically attracted other people, and it wasn't just his handsome face or his sometimes awkward charm. Something about him had made a string in Tommy resonate that hadn't been tuned for a while. Something in Buck made people go through the blaze for him, too. Tommy would happily return to the fire that they had already successfully fought, would walk right through the embers if he had to, if only it was clear in the end that nothing had happened to Evan.

As the aircraft sank lower, he tried to relax his hand so as not to jerk the controls, but he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering to that blank text message again and again. He had no regrets about leaving the 118; changing jobs had been the right decision at the time. But that dark voice inside him whispered that he should never have left, because these people were with Evan now, they had all the information they weren't sharing with him because he wasn't a part of them... That was irrational, after all, he would probably never have met Buck if he had stayed. He would never have met Evan. Evan, who had been hurt out there, probably in some reckless act; who may have been in pain, scared, but who wasn't alone.

Tommy, however, was alone, still high above the city, and as he got closer to the ground and the vehicles and people got bigger, he appeared to shrink. Would Buck even need him? What if everything wasn't so bad, and after all, his friends were with him… and Tommy, the onlooker, would get weird looks because he hadn't just called, hadn't just answered a message, but had rushed to the hospital with this panic in his eyes.

They had not yet given a name to what was between them. Tommy had been Buck's date for a wedding that had taken place unplanned in a hospital; and as they stood there, everyone had seen there was something, but what exactly? They hadn't suddenly turned up together wherever they went, hadn't picked each other up from work or introduced each other as "this is my boyfriend" at random meetings with friends. It was almost as if they had both navigated around this first, invisible cliff in their relationship.

So what if Buck thought it would be odd for him to show up at the hospital? After nothing but a few dates, far too few kisses and even fewer nights that Tommy remembered when the day was long and Evan was across town? Tommy wasn't part of the 118, and maybe not a real part of Buck.

He landed the aircraft mechanically, did the paperwork, answered questions and couldn’t have told how he got into his car. He didn't recall the trip to the hospital either, but he did remember putting on a confident, relaxed face in the elevator mirror.

They were all there, and his heart sank as cold fear crept up and down his spine.

Henrietta and Howard, whom they called Chimney for some inexplicable reason and who had somehow grown close to Tommy’s heart. The captain, Bobby, who made a more than just serious face. Ravi, who was no longer a probie, but was still busy getting coffee to distract himself or the others. Eddie, traces of dirt on his face, constantly scratching his arm, which looked suspiciously singed. Buck’s sister, Maddie, which was the most disturbing sight, because if she had managed to get here, things were serious. 

She was the first to catch sight of him, turning by chance as the elevator door opened, and then there was an expression flickering across her face that confused him, something he couldn't place. Howard's mouth formed a silent oh, as if surprised to see him, and Hen glanced first at Tommy, then at her phone. I shouldn't have come, Tommy thought, but everyone was here, and he wanted to be here, he wanted nothing more than to know what was going on.

He faltered, but started walking slowly towards them. Maddie suddenly approached him, touched his arm like some delicate flower and said, "Oh dear, I'm sorry, I should have called you."

Tommy's false smile of confidence crumbled.

"I assumed you were on call, you didn't answer," Hen said, who had somehow also appeared next to him, "I didn't want to worry you, so I kept it short."

Well, now you've got me worried, Tommy intended to say, because he recognized very well that she was using her first responder voice, the tone reserved for patients and relatives. Now he noticed that they were all surrounding him; it was frightening, but there was nothing but genuine concern on their faces.

"Buck already asked for you," Bobby said, and Tommy finally found his voice again.

"What's going on anyway?" he asked.

All of a sudden, the tension was released. He received encouraging pats on the back, was pushed to a seat, and Hen sat down with him and laid out in concise words a story he had heard many times before.

Tommy had known firefighters who kissed a St. Florian badge before a job, yet it rarely helped – things just went wrong sometimes. Someone stumbled over the hose, jammed the ladder or grabbed the axe at the wrong end. And sometimes a fire could not be contained, with a flame so bright you could no longer see, a roaring so deafening you could no longer hear. Then you were at the mercy of danger, and those were the missions that no one would forget. The ones where no lives could be saved, there were only casualties. It was bad, and it was reflected in every single face around him.

"But he's conscious?" Tommy asked, tuning out the list of injuries he had just heard, concentrating only on Bobby's words. Buck had asked for him.

Bobby and Hen exchanged a look, and Bobby said, "I'll ask the doctor if you can see him."

I'm not a relative, Tommy thought to say, but he could see in the other’s eyes that it didn’t matter. They were family, even if not by blood, and an unwritten law allowed emergency services to be with their wounded in times of need. And all of this screamed that he was a relative after all, at least in spirit. Maybe because he had been part of the 118 before, but maybe mainly because he belonged to Buck.

If that was true. If Buck wanted that, too.

But it seemed that everyone else accepted this, just as they included him in their care and concern. It was almost pleasant if he hadn't been so tense; so full of adrenaline, as if he was about to turn a corner of a building already burning brightly.

And then, again without knowing exactly how he had put one foot in front of the other, he stood in Buck's room. All of a sudden, the strain actually disappeared, as is often the case when reality has overtaken your worst expectations and you can finally focus on the truth. The truth was that Buck looked very young and very vulnerable amidst all the equipment and tubes and bandages, but the truth was also that he was alive; and as bad as everything was, he was going to get better.

Tommy pulled up a chair, sat down and grabbed Buck's hand without thinking. Did it matter if Buck actually wanted him? Perhaps a very selfish thought, because right now Tommy seemed to need this touch much more than Buck, who was asleep. It was a misjudgment, because those beautiful blue eyes opened, and even though his gaze wasn't completely focused, it was directed at Tommy.

"Evan," Tommy said softly, the name flowing from his lips as easily as the weight that was taken from his mind in that moment.

"I was wondering when my boyfriend was gonna show up," Buck mumbled sleepily, but with that inimitable grin that neither a few broken bones nor a bunch of painkillers could seem to take away from him.

Tommy's heart stumbled, but he smiled.

"It's not like I could interrupt a perfectly good job to console you for your lousy one."

"Console me now, think I need it."

"Call me your boyfriend again, and I might," Tommy said, while his mind kept repeating the truth: Evan wanted him.

"I've already bragged to all the nurses about my handsome boyfriend."

Buck’s voice got softer, his words choppier, but Tommy held his hand long after he fell asleep.

He had no intention of letting go of it anytime soon.

[criceofpain]

switch it up | park jongseong (reposted and edited)

featuring: enhypen's jake, heeseung, sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon; stayc's yoon

synopsis: after you find your ex cheating with another guy, the quiet kid takes the opportunity to get closer to you. but the shocking part is, you never knew he could do a full 180 and be the most charming guy you've ever seen.

pairing: student!jay x student fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, a tinge of angst (and humor lol)

word count: 7418

warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), slut-shaming, usage of pet names, vaginal penetration, alcohol consumption, gamer rage (especially heeseung lol), male masturbation, degradation, fellatio, minimal impact play, implied violence, two-timing, cheating, jakehoon are gay, jay has too much porn vids on his laptop, yoon has warfreak tendencies, too much tekken references, too much time skips

Being popular in school had its own perks.

If people were asked what they’d do if they became the most popular person in year two for twenty-four hours, you’d get a vast range of answers from all of them. Fame, beauty, authority, and money–the possibilities are endless for a household name in one of the most prestigious universities in Seoul. The thing is, though, downsides will always be inevitable.

Thursday’s a typical work day for the student council’s president–you. A ton of paper stacks were waiting to be scanned and submitted to the council adviser, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up and actually work on them. The adviser’s office was two buildings away from your location, and God, did you dread walking. Worse, you had to do it every week and without the help of your vice president. Bothering to find him would be a waste of time, either.

The sudden ring of your phone disrupts your train of thought, making you look up to check whoever was trying to test your patience at this hour. Jakey ♡, your phone screen reads. You heave a relieved sigh; it’s been three days since your boyfriend last called and it was messing with your momentum. Even overthinking was a waste of time and you hated it.

“Hi, love.” you mumbled, voice laced with exhaustion. “I'm glad you finally called.”

“Love, can we cancel our date?” Jake asks from the other line, and your face immediately contorts to a disappointed scowl.

Strange. He’s usually not the type to postpone plans at the last minute because he knew you despised that type of feat. As the student council president, the last thing you'd want is for someone to waste your valuable time.

“Suddenly?” you deadpan as you put your pen down and slowly spin in the swivel chair you sat on. “We’ve got everything planned out and now you wanna cancel?”

Jake sighs. “Coach called us for training. He’s been lenient on me for the past week, I can't afford another absence.”

“Oh.” you utter, at loss for words. “Long day ahead, huh?”

It was what you least expected, anyways. You stay still in your seat, disappointment filling your chest. You start to feel uneasy—you knew you’d never stand a chance against his monster of a coach. What can I do? Jake was the team’s striker which gained him maximum importance. Without him, the team would basically be a chaotic bunch. 

“Sorry.” he mutters apologetically. “I didn't want this to happen, really.”

“I know, I know.” you grumble, picking your pen back up and fixing your attention back to the papers you were reviewing. “Can I come after training, though? We should at least eat, like, ramyeon, tteokbokki or something."

A few seconds of silence fills the other line before Jake replies, "God, that sounds—fuck. That's irresistible. I hope Coach lets me off ‘cause his diet plan is seriously killing me.”

“I sure hope he does,” you roll your eyes as the image of a conceited middle-aged man with his stomach overflowing his pants. “unless he wants a big ‘fuck you’ from me for tiring you out. You gotta rest, love.”

He chuckles, causing a grin to tug your lips. “I love you. I know you’re a busy woman and you’ve probably got a lot on your plate right now. I'll hang up now, hmm?”

Your reply gets cut off by the sudden drop of the call, and another sigh leaves your mouth. 

Popularity was so exhausting for you. However, not everyone suffers from the syndrome; take Park Jongseong–who goes by “Jay” in school–as an example. The lad has finally gotten a taste of rest after coding what felt like a thousand HTMLs, now nibbling on a cob of corn with his other hand glued to his keyboard.

Why had I never thought of playing Tekken as a way of escaping the hell of school and the sight of students’ thirst for crowd validation before? As he fervently taps the keys of his laptop, the corner of his lip tugs into a slight smirk. He continuously lands hits on a random Kazuya he was matched with, not letting them rest as he uses his trump card–Jin Kazama’s ten-hit combo.

The silence breaks as Jay’s hearty laughter booms in the computer club room. He sighed triumphantly, propping his head on his intertwined hands. 

"I gotta tell Heeseung hyung about this.” Jay snickers, grabbing his phone from beside his laptop and speed dialing the number “5”. After a few rings, his friend finally picks up. “Ay, hyung! I got good news for you.”

“Man, fuck you!” Heeseung, the student council’s vice president hisses from the other line, annoyance evident in his voice. Before the younger can ask about why he had such a tone, the older interrupts, “You’re never gonna let me live, are you?”

“Whoa, whoa, chill out, hyung.” Jay chuckles in confusion. “It’s not like I’m gonna use the ten-hit combo on you, is it? What’s the matter?”

Heeseung clicks his tongue and scoffs, “Don’t you see what’s happened or are you playing dumb right now, Jongseong? Fucking look at your screen.”

Jay, although confused, obliges anyway. He looks back at his laptop screen with the rematch menu on display. After a good few seconds, he spots the username of his opponent and immediately gasps, loud enough for his friend to hear. He then breaks into laughter, this time louder and more provoking as he hears the bantering on his ear.

“What—don’t tell me you had no idea—Jay!” the owner of the username heeba_inu_1015 yelled, followed by a frustrated shout.

“Whoops, should’ve gone easy on you, then.” Jay teases, shrugging his shoulders. “No, seriously. I had no idea. This is what school frustration makes me do.”

“Well, at least you’re not the student council’s vice president.”

Jay snorts in disbelief. “Come on, it’s not that hard–” he cuts himself off. “Oh, you’ve got a point, though.”

Jay didn’t necessarily live in the shadows; he just didn’t like being the center of attention. Being an eye candy is the last thing he wanted. Sure, he’s got what it takes to be popular–he’s a CEO's son, filthy rich, and on the honor roll. His friends say he’s got some sick visuals, too. Despite all these, he’d prefer to just blend in with the crowd and not stand out as a resident introvert (not to be confused with being a pick-me boy; Papa Park raised him with manners).

“Still, fuck you.” Heeseung lets out his third scoff of the day. A female voice rambles in the background, on the verge of screaming as the vice president grumbles in dismay. Jay assumes it was the school council’s president calling him out for slacking. “I gotta go, though. Godzilla’s on the run and she’s unstoppable–hey, wait!”

Beep. The call ends, and Jay's me time continues. A chuckle leaves his mouth. That was the president? She’s unhinged as hell.

“What’s the president like?” he mumbles, putting his headphones back on and getting ready to start a new game. “I’d like to meet her.”

*

“Lee Heeseung, I’m giving you ten seconds to explain to me why you’re on Tekken when you’re supposed to be on duty.”

If looks could kill, your vice president could’ve died a slow, painful death by now. You try your best to keep your calm composure in front of your right-hand man while trying to suppress your anger, but the urge to lash out on him is just getting stronger. Heeseung, feeling intimidated, could only look down on the ground as he hears a disappointed sigh from you.

Fortunately, the school council’s secretary, Yang Jungwon, has informed you of the vice president’s whereabouts. You made sure to leave your pending tasks untouched before storming out of the council office and to the stockroom, where he was apparently taking his sweet time being a heavy load.

“Look, I’ve just finished my last game, Y/N, alright?” Heeseung raises his hands in defeat.  “I’m done. I’ll go and help.”

“Oh, you are definitely gonna go help Jungwon in the council’s office because I’m out of here.” you snap, unplugging the Ethernet wire connected to his gaming laptop. “There are waivers waiting for you. Get your ass up.”

“Alright.” he mutters, head hung low as he switches off his laptop. “I’m sorry.”

Without another word, you turn your back on him and walk out of the suffocating stockroom. How does he even stand the heat in there? Your steps get quicker as much as the psychological warfare you were having with yourself is getting worse. People are probably looking at me right now and think, why the hell is her face so sour? They wouldn’t know. They’re not the overworked, unpaid, “popular” student council president with a freeloader of a vice president and a midfielder boyfriend who’s just as popular.

You’ve been zoned out for the entirety of your trip back to the council office, but the sight of a familiar shoe sticking from one of the corridor posts shakes you awake. Your eyebrows furrow, wondering what would someone with skate shoes be doing in that spot at this hour when it’s inter-school olympics season. You take another set of steps before seeing a man’s back view with the jersey number 5 on it, and the scene that unfolds in front of you shakes your whole world.

Your boyfriend and the school’s most famous figure skater, Park Sunghoon, were kissing.

*

It has been a week since you found out that Sim Jaeyun was cheating on you and is gay.

You remember being rooted in your spot as you saw them eating each other’s faces. Screaming at them would be a waste of time. You feared wasting time the most, and crying in front of someone came in second. Instead of doing what someone normally does in these situations–screaming and bawling their eyes out, you land a slap on each of their faces with a shit-eating grin on your face before running to the nearest comfort room to cry.

You wouldn’t mind your boyfriend coming out of the closet and ending your relationship in good terms, but the fact that he’d been flirting–and probably fucking–around with a guy behind your back infuriated you.

You didn’t know how it came to this—you crying your heart out inside the club office as Heeseung finally took over and finished the rest of your work due to you not being able to properly open your swollen eyes. Even moving around was a pain in the ass. Jungwon works from the sidelines as well, and both of them didn’t dare speak a word to you unless spoken to. They knew better than to mess with a girl who’s got cheated on.

“Cabining trip’s tomorrow. You still going, noona?” Jungwon asks, eyes glued to his laptop screen as he types the minutes of the meeting for the past week. “We need you over there, Pres.”

“Hmm.” you reply, not having the energy to speak out a proper word as you blew your nose on a paper towel. Of course I’ll be there. What am I, a ghoster?

As Jungwon bombards you with questions, your replies are short and reserved, along the lines of “yeah”, “uh-huh”, and the like. How were you supposed to show yourself without shame knowing that your ex wasn’t into you anymore?

“Heeseung.” you croak out, getting a short “huh” as a response. “I need your help with something.”

“What’s it about, miss ma'am?”

You cringe at the nickname, throwing the empty box of paper towels along his way. “If you use that nickname on me again, I swear.” you hiss.

“Damn, calm down, will you?” Heeseung chuckles, barely dodging the box that almost hit his face. “What is it?”

You saunter your way towards the table where the two lads worked. propping your hands on the desk, You then look over at Jungwon who has his whole attention on his laptop, not bothering to pop into the conversation or listen to whatever you were about to say.

“You’re best friends with the adviser, right?” you whisper to Heeseung, to which he nods. “And I’m not. Wow. What am I president for, then?

“Touche.” he shrugs. “What about him?”

“This could be fucked up but,” you lean in to whisper on his ear. “Can you beg him to sneak drinks for the adults?”

Your eyes screw shut in embarrassment, in disbelief of the words that just came out of your mouth. You’re better than this, Y/N. 

“Yes.” Heeseung lets out a dramatic gasp, nodding vigorously at your idea. “You had me at ‘drinks’, Y/N, come on. Spill!”

“Noona, you’re kidding, right? Why would you sneak drinks in–”

“Quiet, kid.” you cut Jungwon off. “I’ve got a breakup to get over. Let the adults have this.”

With that, Heeseung let out a dramatic gasp, nodding vigorously at your idea.

*

The day of the cabining trip has come, and it wasn’t the most enjoyable day for the student council so far. While the other kids were having the time of their lives, talking with their friends and not worrying about keeping the lines straight and the cabins quiet, you struggled to keep the students in order as you tapped the backs of those who made a commotion, or worse, those who made out in broad daylight.

To your relief, Heeseung was in charge of bag inspection, which meant drinks were allowed (unless one was not of legal age, of course). The students will just have to hide it from the other supervisors. Jungwon, along with the student council’s treasurer, Sunoo, were on room assignment duty, making sure to separate the guys and girls from each other. Getting pregnant on a school trip is the last thing anyone would want.

Meanwhile, Jay stands quietly as the line advances. He wasn’t really supposed to be going on this trip if it weren’t for his father insisting him to do so. Luckily, with Heeseung’s permission, he was allowed to bring his gaming laptop without you knowing. The vice president just hopes he wouldn’t get pulled by the ear again.

“God, I hope I get the top bunk.” Jay mutters, putting his bag on the desk for inspection.

“Gotta go fast, then.” Heeseung replied, probing the contents of his friend’s bag. He taps Jay’s shoulders after he’s done. “Man, I hope we’re roommates.”

“Heeseung, how's the inspection going?” you bellow over the crowd of students, craning your head to look for him.

As you and Heeseung scream at each other over the loud sounds in the cabins, Jay couldn’t help but steal glances at you. He did pass by you sometimes, but he hasn't really gotten the chance to step up and talk to you. What a waste. After news has spread that you got cheated on, he could imagine himself tackling you into a hug and giving you small forehead kisses in hopes to ease your pain. He had set his eyes on you ever since you were appointed as president, and he found you so pretty ever since. He just secretly hoped that Jake wouldn’t go begging for you to come back, or else he’d lose his mind.

His daydreaming stops when he bumped shoulders with someone whom he least expected–you. The two of you momentarily met each other’s eyes, and Jay swore he’d melt then and there if it weren’t for you turning away almost immediately. On the other hand, you wonder why he’s been stuck on his spot for a good minute, so you approach him cautiously.

“Uh, are you lost, perhaps?” you wave a hand in front of Jay’s face. “You seem to be spacing out, Jay.”

She knows me. Oh, my God, she just acknowledged me. His heart somersaults in his chest at the mention of his name. It rolled off of your mouth perfectly. 

It takes him five seconds to answer, “I’m good, thank you.”

You smile briefly at him, and he flashes one back. He walks silently, trying to suppress a shout from coming out of his mouth. You were always pretty to him, and that smile was the cherry on top. 

The first day of the retreat wasn’t really hectic, except for the fact that all of the students have to run ten laps all around the yard before they can even have a taste of breakfast. Despite the supervisors lurking around the whole site, you’ve taken brave sips on your bottle of soju, disguised as drinking water. You couldn’t help but see Jake and his new lover every time you had to lead a segment and meet face to face with everyone, and your chest would always clench. How the fuck is he so happy without me? If it weren’t for the other officers beside you, you would’ve wrestled Sunghoon without a doubt.

The second and third days would probably be the most boring of them all, but not for Jay.

His laptop keeps him company as he silently jerks off to porn videos, trying his best to stifle a groan to not wake up whoever was occupying the top bunk. He would’ve brought a fleshlight, too, but he figured it’d be too much for a school retreat. So he resorts to another option–a sock. 

He finishes without suspicion, and gets knocked out to sleep right after.

On the other side of the site, you sit awake in your bunk, finishing the last of the soju you’ve successfully hidden for days. You sigh, not feeling any signs of drowsiness as you stare in spaces. I should've seen this coming. You wanted to slap yourself for being so clueless. Hasn’t it come to you that Jake might be using soccer training as an excuse to meet up with Sunghoon instead of you?

“Y/N, you dumb bitch.” you spit out, grabbing your phone to dial Heeseung’s number.

After a few rings, he picks up. “What the fuck, Y/N, it’s 3 in the morning.” the lad grumbled as he tossed and turned in his bed. “You better give me a good reason for calling at this hour.”

“You got a laptop with you?” you ask. What a stupid question. “It's urgent business.”

“No, I don't, dummy.” he snaps, and his sudden change of tone takes you aback. “I thought you knew we can only bring phones.”

You sigh. Out of all times your council adviser demanded an accomplishment report from you, why now? At that moment, you even wished to switch bodies with Heeseung; he was the adviser’s best friend and not you. Despite you telling your superior that you haven’t brought your laptop, he didn't budge, even bringing up the drink-sneaking incident.

To say you were doomed would be an understatement.

“Why does your best friend put me in situations like this?” you whine, pulling your hair in frustration. “He knows I don't have my laptop at the moment! Tell me, does he have something against me? ‘Cause he better settle things with me. Damn it. Do you get me? Sometimes I just want to walk out on all of you because I’ve got the whole council on my back! i’m a human who has limits, too, for fuck’s sake! When do I quit? I can quit anytime and turn my back on this responsibility. You take over once this term ends–”

“Shut up. I'm at your door.”

You hitch a breath, hang up and climb out of your bunk. You silently open the door to see your vice president holding an open laptop in his hand, phone on the other. The lad passes the device on to you, praying that his friend doesn’t notice his laptop out of place when he wakes up.

“Hey, that ain’t mine, though. Be careful with that.” he says, and you scowl in suspicion.

“Thanks,” you smile slightly. “Though I thought I told you not to bring gadgets in the cabin–”

“Don’t ask, just…” he waves his hands frantically, avoiding the question. “I’ll get going.”

“Okay…?” your voice trails off, and you shoo Heeseung away. “You’re a lifesaver, by the way.”

Heeseung nods, jogging his way out as you close your cabin door. You didn’t bother to wonder whose laptop this was; the only thing in your mind was the report you had to finish.

In silence, you immediately get to work. With sips of water from time to time, you struggle to keep yourself awake as you type the needed information, word by word, making sure that it would be slap-worthy on your adviser’s face.

After two hours of staring and typing, you feel your eyes giving out and fingers straining as you move the document file to your flash drive, finally finishing your work.

“This motherfucker better not scold me tomorrow.” you mutter through clenched jaws, carefully ejecting the drive from God-knows-whose laptop. 

With slow hands, you close all of the windows you have used, even the tabs, making it look untouched as this was neither your laptop, nor Heeseung's. Whose is this, then? There wasn't a wallpaper in it, just the default one, and that made guessing a waste of time. Nonetheless, you make a mental note to thank the owner first thing in the morning for saving your desperate ass in such a critical situation. 

Before you can shut down the device, a particular folder on the desktop screen catches your attention, especially its name,

“Things I want to do to Y/N”

You squint in surprise, mouse cursor hovering over the folder. As much as you wanted to pry it open, you wanted to respect the privacy of the owner of the laptop, whoever they were. But this has my name on it. You shake your head, preparing for the worst to happen as you double-click on the folder. What you see next shocks you utterly, making your heartbeat rise as you check the name of the owner.

The laptop belongs to a Park Jongseong, with the folder containing porn videos.

In astonishment, you close the laptop with a loud thud, not bothering to shut it down properly or close the porn folder before you do. A series of knocks makes you jump and hit your head on the top bunk.

“Go to sleep, Y/N!” your bunkmate from the top grumbles.

What the fuck is going on? You sigh, wrapping yourself in a cocoon with your blanket.

*

It's the last day of the retreat, which means free time for all the students until the morning comes with no schedules to stick to. However, you were far from relaxed as last night’s events haven't left your mind until now. You didn’t know what to feel knowing that the quiet kid has been fantasizing about you, and in secret. Do you get mad, grossed out or flattered? Neither of them felt right and it messed up with your head so much. Worrying about it would be a waste of time.

Heeseung couldn’t help but notice you staring at Jay, who played basketball by himself from afar. You spaced out often, too, and it was so not like you to do so. Apparently, your efforts on acting normal outside while being a chaotic mess inside fail as you finally draw out a frustrated groan.

“Something wrong?” Heeseung asks. “You're zoned out pretty bad.”

“That report sucked the life out of me.” you reply monotonously, standing up from your seat, eyes not leaving Jay. “I'll meet you at the bonfire. I just need sleep.”

“Fine. I'll take over for you.”

You nod, trudging to your cabin in hopes to get some rest. However, once your body dips down the mattress, images of Jay hovering over you appear as you close your eyes. Shaking it off, you push a pillow against your face, muffling out a scream of annoyance.

On the other hand, Jay has been stealing glances from you as well, completely unaware of you seeing the deepest, darkest secrets he's kept hidden in his laptop.

After what felt like days of slumber, you were awakened by the noise of students outside of the cabins. hollers and shouts fill your ears as you get yourself out of bed. As much as you hated being woken up in such a manner, you were happy to be able to get a wink of sleep.

“Evening, Y/N.”

You look up from the ground, seeing the person whom you unfortunately wanted to avoid the most. Jay wore a small smile on his face, which was seen clearer without his glasses. Contrary to his usual hoodie-slacks combo, he wore a shirt that snugly fit him, in which you can definitely see the slight curvature of his chest. His toned arms were on full display, too, and you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d flex under your touch. His thighs looked just as attractive, given the fact that he wore cargo shorts.

“Good… evening, Jay.” you chuckle awkwardly. “What's the matter? Can I help you?” Why does he look so different? He even wore his hair differently.

“Nothing much.” he replies sheepishly. “Just, uh, wanted to have a casual talk with the president.” God, that bedhead. Why does it make her more fuckable? He steals glances at the skimpy top that hugged your body, accentuating your curves and your plump breasts.

“Really?” you grin in amusement, not expecting his statement. Just say you wanna fuck and go. “That's strange. No one comes up to me unless it’s about school.”

“That'd be an honor.” he comments, gaze not shifting away from you.“Would having small talk with me waste your time?”

You hesitantly shake your head, and he smiles. Fuck, that smile. Where is this going to get me now?

The two of you proceed to have a conversation outside the cabin, at the same time, thinking of lewd thoughts that were probably too inappropriate, given the setting. From time to time, your hands would brush each other’s, increasing the tension between the two of you.

Despite this, Jay would get distracted, finding your giggles so adorable, especially knowing that he was the reason behind them. You admired how Jay speaks, and how cautious he was when you ranted about your ex. He just hoped no one would call you out and separate the both of you.

Or so he thought.

The whistle trills fills your ears as rain falls angrily on your skin. Whines and grumbles were heard as the bonfire session was declared canceled by Sunoo and Jungwon. Students start sprinting back to their cabins as the rain pours, including the supervisors. No more confession time and roasted marshmallows, I guess.

You look over to see your cabin that was several meters from where you and Jay stood, attempting to make a run for it. However, Jay gets a hold of your wrist before you can take your first step.

“Stay.” his voice is deep and alluring, and you could feel your body slightly shiver.

“You sure?” you raise your brows anyway, not bothering to pull away from his grip. “What if someone sees us drenched in here? Are you willing to vouch for me?”

“You're the president. I'm sure no one would budge.”

You don't protest. Instead, you take the opportunity to ask him about the folder in his laptop, which, by the way, he still assumes was untouched. He, meanwhile, couldn’t take his eyes off of the top that clung to your skin, against your stomach. You pretty much were doing the same as you eyed his abs through his shirt.

After what felt like ten minutes of standing under the rain, both of you were drenched as you walked into an empty cabin for protection that no one used due to faulty electricity. You sit side by side in a single bed, neither of you having the guts to start another conversation.

Maybe it was time for you to spill your secrets.

“I like you.”

“Fuck me.”

The two of you look at each other after speaking at the same time. Your remark especially shocks Jay, so does the way you weren’t fazed with his confession just now. A hand instinctively goes up to cup your mouth. Shit, was I not subtle enough? You fake a hearty chuckle (which was actually a nervous one) as you see his perplexed expression.

“You don’t wanna fuck me?” you mutter, confidence leaving your system as his expression remains unchanged.

“No–I mean, yes.” he immediately replies, afraid that you might take it as him rejecting you. “Of course, I do.”

“Do it, then.”

You tower over his sitting figure, propping your hands on his chest. Jay couldn’t help but close his eyes, asking himself whether this was a dream or not. Your touch trails up to his neck, your fingertips tracing his collarbones. You catch his lips into a sloppy kiss, which he returns fervently as he slips his tongue on your mouth. The cold sensation brought by the raindrops on your skin is now gone as he pulls you into his lap and wraps your legs around his waist. For a minute, he savors your lips as his hands find their way to the hem of your top, feeling a little hesitant.

He pulls off, staring into your eyes as he searches for a sign of fear in your face. “Should I?”

Without a word, you nod, guiding his hands into taking off your top. His eyes roam along your torso, your breasts wanting to be freed from their restraints as they were practically coming out of your tight bra. His cock twitches and slightly hardens at the sight.

“Jay…” you whine, digging your ass against his hardness. A groan leaves his mouth. “I want you to take over.”

With that, he flips the two of you over, with you beneath him. He then pins your hands above your head, asserting his dominance. You hitch a breath as you feel his clothed cock rub against your crotch, still not believing his change in character.

“Is this really the quiet kid I knew?” you tease, making Jay yank your bottoms down, leaving you in your bra. He then lands a stinging spank on your ass cheek, squeezing the soft flesh after.

“Shush, Y/N, unless you want me to leave you hanging.”

Damn, even his voice can make me cum at this point. you feel him spreading your legs slowly, dipping a finger on your damp pussy as he kisses your inner thighs. You reach for his hair and stroke it gently as his lips get closer to where you needed him the most, your other hand squeezing your breast.

he licked a warm strip along your clit, eliciting a whimper from you. He held you by the knees to keep you from pressing your thighs together as he ate you out. his moans against your sex provided vibrations that made your toes curl, and moans louder.

“So miss president loves being eaten out, huh?” Jay chuckles, his ego growing as you reply to him with a broken mewl, pushing two of his fingers inside you. “Such a needy slut.”

He proceeds with his ministrations as he leaves marks on your thigh, torso, then up to your breasts, avoiding your neck to not cause suspicion. The way your walls tightened around his fingers made his cock harden even more. even until now, you couldn’t believe the situation you were in–being fucked by the resident introvert who was secretly a freak in bed.

Your grip on his hair tightens as you feel your high nearing. “Jay, I'm cumming!” you cry out desperately.

Hearing that, Jay pulls his fingers out of you, and licks them with a smirk on his lips. “You taste so sweet… however, I can’t just have you cumming somewhere that’s not on my cock, can I?”

He takes off his drenched top, and the rest of his clothes follow, freeing his erect cock from its confines. He drags his tip against your clit, teasing your entrance and holding your hips tight to stop you from pushing him in.

“Jay, please…” you beg, voice laced with frustration. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Is that so?” Jay snickers, slapping your thigh. “Little miss slutty president wants to suck me off?”

“Mm-mm.” you nod, eyeing his cock and the pre-cum that leaked from his tip. “fuck my mouth, just like how you want it.”

Just like how I want it? he stops in his tracks as he sees you grinning from beneath him. It was finally time for you to confess.

“Sir,” you whined, the pet name causing Jay to let out an audible groan. “I gotta tell you something.”

You sit up and bend over in front of him, his cock on your face and your ass up. He lets out a small gasp as your tongue teases his tip. The way you made eye contact with him didn’t help him, either. He bunches your hair up in a ponytail, wrapping it all around his knuckles as you sucked him like a popsicle.

“Tell me, baby,” he sighs, looking down at you in amusement.

“I needed a laptop for my report.” you lick him from base to tip. “And Heeseung, the vice president, borrowed yours for me.”

The way your tongue moves all over him sends shivers all over his body, and he makes the impulsive decision to rub his cock all over your face. “Baby saw my porn stash, didn’t she?” he chuckles, pushing himself deeper in your throat. You try to stop yourself from gagging as he fucks your mouth. “Fuck, yes. Those were all meant for you. All the things I wanna do to that body.”

You moan against his cock, reaching for your clit to rub yourself. you expected a different reaction from him, but by the looks of it, the Jay you passed by along the corridors was now gone. In front of you is a different person, and you actually loved it. You loved this new side of him.

“This is one of them.” Jay adds. “Fucking your mouth.”

You feel your head being guided by his hands as he nears his orgasm, thrusting faster inside your mouth. you whimper as his tip hits your throat, waiting for his warm release to fill your mouth.

However, he pulls out again, much to your dismay. He gets out of the bed and walks to the other side where he can take you from behind. Coincidentally, there stood a mirror in front of you, and you could clearly see his naked body as you were on your hands and knees. Fuck, I bet he works out a lot. He spanks your ass cheeks again, making you yelp.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, miss president.” Jay says under his breath, lining his tip on your cunt and getting ready to push himself inside of you. “I don’t have a condom with me, though.”

“I'm on the pill.” you reply. You realized you haven’t gotten rid of your habit of taking birth control pills even though you didn’t have sex as much anymore, especially now that you’re not with Jake anymore. “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Which is?”

You heave a deep sigh before speaking.  I'll have to do this once and for all. “Help me forget about Jake.”

Without a word, he pushes himself slowly inside you. A gasp leaves your mouth at how big and girthy he was as he stretched your walls. It took you a while to adjust to his size, but after he has sunken his whole length in you, he starts moving.

I'll help you forget about Jake, sweetheart. “My love… tell me.” he drags a fingertip along your spine, rocking his hips at a steady pace. “Who's making you feel good right now?”

“You, Jay.” you reply, almost sounding like a scream as you do. “Your cock feels so good inside me.”

“Fuck, yeah, I am.” jay snickers, pulling you by the hair and making you look at your fucked-out reflection in the mirror. “Look at you. Such a cock-hungry bitch.”

God, you hated being degraded, but why did Jay's words turn you on?

Jay's pace gradually goes faster as he feels you tightening around him, his muscles flexing as his skin slaps against yours.

“That fucking soccer boy can never fuck you as good as I do, right?”

“Ah, yes!” you whimper as his finger reaches your clit.

He groans. “Repeat after me, darling. Cheaters.”

“Cheaters–ah!” you squeal as Jay spanks your ass again.

“Ain’t.” Jay seethed.

“Ain't…” you draw out a whine as he holds you by the waist.

“Shit.” he pulls you to sit up, slapping your breasts.

“Shit! Oh, that feels good.” you bury your head in the bed.

“See? That fucker doesn’t deserve you.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a dark mark by sucking on it. “He can go get some dick by himself ‘cause from now on, you’re mine.”

As his hands make their way back to your breasts, you feel like putty under Jay's touch. You couldn’t help but agree to his every word as if he’s put you in a state of hypnosis. Your words are incomprehensible as he snaps his hips harshly against yours, the feeling of his cock inside you clouding your vision and thoughts.

“I said you’re mine, little slut.”

“I'm yours.” you breathe out.

Once he has been given the go signal, he slows down for a bit and turns your head so you can see each other’s gazes. “If you'd let me take care of you, I'd do it wholeheartedly.” he said, kissing your knuckles lovingly. “I don't care how slow you want the process to be, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

You don’t say a word. Instead, you lock his lips in a loving kiss. He holds onto your waist for dear life as your hips move in sync, the heated moment turning into a passionate, affectionate one.

“You close?” Jay mumbles against your lips, and you nod.

You stay still in that position as Jay picks up his pace, letting you feel his warmth as he brings you to your high.

Your climax crashes like waves, and it seems like momentarily taking the life out of you. Jay follows suit, his seed spilling inside of you.

After a good minute, he pulls out of you, lays you down on the mattress and hovers above you. you cup his cheeks and give him a peck on the forehead, the introvert in him slowly coming back as he blushes at your action.

“Let me clean you up.” Jay says with a slight pout, the dominant in him finally out of the picture as he spoke.

“Can we do that later?” you reply, planting a kiss on his nose. “Let me hold you for a while.”

He doesn’t oblige. Rather, he picks up his drenched shorts from the floor, pulling a small handkerchief from its pocket. As he proceeds cleaning you up, you stare at him fondly. Were you in love? Not yet. Would you give him a shot? Definitely. The way he just switched up on you would need some processing time, though. It was one heck of a moment.

The night ends with Jay sending you off to your cabin, kissing you good night as he promises to meet you in school after the weekend.

*

You slowly stroll along the corridors of the art department building, looking for Jay's room as you go. You have been walking for thirty minutes straight, but without an ounce of exhaustion in your body although it was a Thursday–a work day for the student council president. To say that you were excited to meet him would be an understatement.

It’s been a week since the last day of the cabin trip and your first sexual encounter with someone who wasn’t Jake. You’ve been feeling a lot better, and it made Heeseung and Jungwon wonder how you’ve done it so fast. Jay’s been sending you food over the weekend and it stunned you how well he cooks. He’s been dropping over to the student council adviser’s office from time to time, too, just to watch you work.

You feel your feet starting to hurt, but you keep on walking anyway. I need to see my Jay after a long dayyyyy.

“There she is!” a voice starts shouting, causing you to stop on your tracks. “The prim and proper student council president.”

You squint your eyes at the person who turned out to be Sim Jayoon, Jake's cousin. She eyes you with a scowl as if scrutinizing you, and retches as if she was grossed out. You knew exactly what she came at you for–to act as a proxy for her wimpy cousin who hasn’t shown his face in the soccer team ever since. She has the reputation of being the worst pick-me in all of tenth grade, and that makes this encounter worse.

“You rang, Yoon?” you reply, faking a cheerful tone as you try your best not to pounce at the poor girl. “Do you need help with something?”

“Weren’t you crying over Jake oppa just last week?” Yoon spits out, towering over you to assert dominance. “Now you’re fucking with another guy? Seriously, sunbaenim, how much of a slut can you be?”

Does she expect me to cry and beg her to keep my dirty little secret? You snort. “Babe, your Jake oppa two-timed me with Park Sunghoon while I was on duty. That makes your cousin the slut here, doesn’t it?”

“And I did what I could do best–moving on.” you add, pissing Yoon off even more. Her face reddens in anger, and you taunt her, patting her head.  “Aww, look at you. Aren’t you such a good guard dog for not admitting that your cousin made mistakes?” 

“Shut up!” she yells defensively, stepping away from you. “You’re the president and you’re supposed to be the role model, right? You should step down if you tolerate double-dipping! bitch!”

With that, Yoon raises a hand to land a slap on your face, and you grimace, expecting the sting to land on your cheek. However, three seconds in and nothing hits you.

Turns out, a hand blocked Yoon’s arm and stopped her from slapping you. You look over your shoulder to see Jay with his usual meh expression plastered on his face. He raises his brows at Yoon, evidently annoyed by her words.

“At least she’s getting better sex than your cousin does.” he quips, throwing Yoon’s wrist to the ground.

You gasp at Jay’s choice of words. “Jay! Language!”

“What? It's the truth.” he replies, holding up a cube in his hand which happened to be a mini-recorder. “You want me to call your parents or something?”

In defeat, Yoon screams, stomping her way out of the corridors. You hear a deep chuckle from Jay behind you, and you instinctively land a slap on his chest. “You didn’t just say that in front of a fifteen-year old kid.”

“What was I supposed to do? She’s just called you slut and a bitch.” Jay shrugged, and you could only shake your head at him. He leans closer to your ear and whispers, “You’re my bitch, though.”

You roll your eyes, unable to protest  “Jay, as much as I appreciate the degradation–”

“Meet  me after your last period. I promise I won’t ditch you.” he grins, giving your lips a brief peck. “I’m off to the e-sports club office and nope, Heeseung hyung won’t be playing with me this time.”

“Thanks for the assurance..?” you say hesitantly, followed by a chuckle. He’s back at it again with the random updates. “Show them what you got, gamer boy.”

He pecks your lips again, and starts walking away with his back facing you. You could only look at him in awe as he leisurely walked the corridor with his headphones on and probably a One Ok Rock song blasting from them. He was your definition of comfort, and the only one who could convince you that wasting time wasn’t a bad thing after all.

“Love ya!” he bellows suddenly, making you yelp. Now’s not the time to say it back yet. You blow him a kiss and he makes a run for the stairs. Of course, you loved him, too.

And the other sides of him, of course.

a/n: this fic is especially dedicated to my girlies nics (@ddeonuism) and aria (@jaylaxies) bc apparently they love this fic so much so OFC i had to retrieve it and free it from the dungeon! this is for all my jay hoes 🥳 one of the fics that got me started in enhablr AND my first ever jay fic. i tweaked this a lil bit just to make jay hotter and sweeter bc ik that's what y'all want right 🙄 /lh enjoy lovelies!

NSFW TAGLIST [OPEN]: @thots4hee @jaylaxies @ddeonuism @jojayke @vernonluvs-archived @puphee @hee-pster @forjongseong @jaeyunsz @muffinminnie @shu-ramyeonz @poutyjaeyun @fairy-junseong @duolingofanaccount @jkefelx @taetaemylovie @heetro @yizhoutv @lavhikaru @kaislinging-slasher01 @cha0thicpisces @en-archv @simplewonderland @exactlygreatcoffee @lhseth @aerinaga @xwonniex @jyshdoll @iiousim (send an ask or a dm to be added!)

© criceofpain on tumblr, 2020

[ayquemepierdolanovela]

I’m enjoying the angst so much, I don’t know how many times I’ve seen the scene in the back room and the back and forth is fascinating, how they both try to bridge the gap that separates them and then retreat:

1. Marta once more hates the formality of ‘usted’.

2. Marta opens up and shares with Fina the fact that the launch of the new perfume was almost cancelled

3. Fina takes the chance to ask why she’s been avoiding her.

4. Marta immediately raises up a wall and closes off.

5. And Fina’s like, ‘If you don’t want me here, why do I even bother?’ Which is a call back to when Marta said she wouldn’t move Fina to a new shop/department because she would never do that to Fina or herself.

6. And well, if Fina’s angry and petty, so is Marta.

Carmen once again being the best friend and intense lesbian like Fina could ever ask for, I would have told Fina to fuck off for a bit already.

One thing that worried me today is Digna’s conversation with Luis. I suspect that Digna’s husband was a closeted gay man that ended up killing himself because of it. Digna might have known deep down why, or maybe it’s a secret she’s keeping from her children. The point is I fear she might not be as ok with Marta and Fina’s relationship as I wanted and I hate that so much. You guys know Digna being there for them is my favourite thing.

Anyway, no Mafin in the sneak peek, but they’ve been giving us surprise scenes lately, so fingers crossed we’ll have some interactions on Monday.

[weirdbrothers]

Stranger Things Fic Rec

Let me get one thing out of the way: absolutely nobody asked for this. But I love these pairings and stories so much I had to share it with you all. This is heavy on Steve/Billy with some Steve/Eddie sprinkled in.

If you've never read Stranger Things fic, or when you saw this post thought "oh yeah, that 80s kid monster show" I encourage you to give these a try! You don't have to know much about the show besides the bare bones of the plot. (And my ask box is always open for Qs!) If you like angsty teenage boys who are in denial about their feelings and hate their hometown, read on.

Now, on to the porn and depravity!

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Steve/Eddie/Billy

After the end of the world, Billy Hargrove is a mess. But at least he has company.

Notes: Literally one of my favorite fics of all time, I will never shut up about it. Gay threesomes. Angst. A sweltering midwestern summer. Homoerotic undertones that builds to filthy gay porn. The vibes are all there.

Pressure by Yellow_Blue_Books | Steve/Eddie

"You never did tell me your name," he called at Munson's back. The older man was already in the trees when he turned back around and stated his name, eyes bright and grin wide. Steve never heard it; he couldn't read his lips from so far a distance between them. So instead, he watched Munson walk away; the teen, now wide awake, went to sit on the hood of his car to wait for Hopper to show. On that crisp, cold January night in 1985 - Steve Harrington heard the sound of Eddie Munson's voice for the first and last time. He never even knew his name.

Notes: The only WIP on this rec list, and totally worth the wait. Great characterization. So many little tidbits of information that have me squealing with joy. But also dark and grounded in reality.

chokechain by @brawlite | Steve/Billy (and Tommy is there)

Tommy H. invites Billy to a party at Steve's house. Billy expected hot chicks and booze, but when he shows up, there's only the latter. Steve and Tommy teach Billy that in Hawkins, sometimes you just gotta make do.

Notes: When I think of this fic I literally start sweating its so sexy. The fic that got me hooked on Steve/Billy and gay Steve in general. Its so subtle and gritty and grimy and hot. And Tommy is egging everyone on, yet oblivious, just how I like him.

so good at being in trouble, so bad at being in love by @the-copperkid Steve/Billy

Steve's sophomore year, Billy showed up.

Notes: A fandom classic. The perfect example of Steve/Billy getting together in world, and dealing with their feelings (+ porn, because I'm me and I need porn in all my fic).

We'll Go Down in History by @eternalgoldfish | Billy/Steve

Hawkins High takes a field trip to Baltimore to see historical sites and Steve would rather jump out his hotel window.

Notes: So much teenage angst and tomfoolery in this one! A little more lighthearted than others on the list. Gets to that theme in ST that I love: the idle hands of teenage boys are the devil's playthings.

Dom 4 Hire by @lazybakerart

Steve is naked, on his hands and knees, in the apartment he shares with his high school sweetheart for a man he only just met in person five minutes ago.

Notes: From the second I saw Steve Harrington on screen I knew that boy was a sub dying for someone to call him a good boy. And Billy is just the dom for the job. My only complaint is that I wish this was longer!

Maybe we're something uncool by desert_dino | Steve/Billy

It’s only noon; Billy knows neither of them have work that evening, and their shitty gen-ed biology lab was cancelled. They’ve only been hanging out for an hour, and maybe Billy isn’t quite done fucking around with Harrington yet. Maybe he’ll indulge him.

Notes: Cocky Billy is what the world needs! Great banter and dialogue. Just a snapshot of what I imagine their afternoons would look like, and the teens of Hawkins would be like "why the fuck are they always hanging out?" totally oblivious.

slipping through by sightetsound | Steve/Billy

It was the weed, and the pilfered whiskey from Steve’s daddy dearest they passed back and forth. It was actually how Steve’s eyes caught the moonlight. How his mouth moved when he spoke, and how it curved on a grin Billy would call relaxed when they were alone. Admitting as much felt too much like giving ground, and so it was the weed and whiskey.

Notes: Really bittersweet, heartfelt, and sincere. A different kind of pace for this pairing.

You Get Too Close by @trashcangimmick | Steve/Billy

Steve sits at the back of the bus on the way to a basketball match in Gary. Billy Hargrove sits right across from him.

Notes: Be for real- when we saw that basketball and shower scene we were all hoping it would go in the direction of this fic. Gives me the vibe of an 80s porno in the best way.

Reflecting on the Longest Wavelength by @trashcangimmick | Billy/Hopper

Billy’s heat hits early. Jim Hopper happens to find him before anyone else does. 

Notes: This pairing is a little rouge, I don't see it often and its hard to pin down for me past all the basic tropes. I really like the A/B/O world-building here and find myself returning to it.

[the-guilty-writer]

I'd Better Ask Emily

Request from anon: Hear me out😅 Spencer Reid x daughter!reader where the reader is a lesbian but is to scared to tell Spencer and Spencer someone find out by accidentally reading her diary or something?

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: When Spencer goes looking for your school notebook and accidentally reads your diary instead he goes to the BAU bisexual badass for help.

A/N: I really wanted to do this justice so there's angst and fluff and bisexual Emily Prentiss because she had more chemistry with women than any male love interest. I’m also a sucker for Reid and Prentiss friendship so there is a good chunk of it in here.

CW: reader is gay, Emily is bi, let’s be honest everyone on the team is a little fruity, suggestions that Emily wasn’t supported, coming out of the closet, reader goes to social justice march.

---

“And my math homework is on the table for you to check over!” It was a Friday morning and you were in a rush to get out the door. There was a social justice march beginning at the national mall in half an hour and your AP government teacher had convinced the principal to cancel classes so every student could participate. Plus you were getting extra credit.

“What about your reading summaries?” Your dad asked you. Spencer always proof-read your graded assignments, per your request. It helped to have his genius input, though sometimes you wondered if he went easy on you. Since you were a child, you’d never made a craft or drew a picture or wrote something that your dad didn’t love.

“In my notebook on my desk,” you said hastily. “Bye, love you!”

“Love you too. Don’t get-” The door slammed shut. Spencer sighed. “Arrested.”

He made his way to your room. For the most part you were tidy, but your desk was a mess. Colored pens and highlighters, loose leaf paper with to-do lists, a stack of books that was falling over onto the jumbled surface. Spencer began to sift through the clutter, fixing the stack of books, putting your writing utensils in a pile, looking around for your notebook- but of course you hadn’t clarified which notebook. By the time he was done sorting through the mess there were five of them total. He began to read through them, trying to identify which one you wrote your reading summaries in.

It was down to the last two. Spencer grabbed the next one in the stack and opened to a random page:

I’ve never been one for poetry, but I find myself wanting to write verses on how her eyes crinkle when she laughs and the way her hips sway as she walks.

That sounded English-y and promising. Spencer kept reading.

I imagine her skin is soft, like velveteen, and her hair like expensive silk. The smell of her perfume is that of vanilla and honey; it reminds me of summer.

The sound of her voice is like a siren’s music. When she calls my name I can’t help but get up from my spot in the cafeteria and-

Wait.

There weren’t cafeterias in the book you were reading for school.

Spencer read the passage back again and again. He couldn’t help himself- he flipped to the front page to start from the beginning and finished reading the entirety of your diary in two minutes. There were entries spanning over two years, but one thing stuck out to Spencer more than anything else:

You talked about girls.

You talked liking girls.

Of course the diary contained passages on other things, like the day you visited your dream school and a cute dog you had met at the park… but you were dreaming of cute girls. And you never told him.

Spencer closed the diary and put it on your desk. His only thought: I’d better ask Emily about this.

---

Emily added a small amount of creamer to her coffee and went to sit down at her desk, highly regretting that she’d put her paperwork until the last minute again. The stack of files on her desk was beginning to rival Hotch’s, and that was not a competition she wanted to win. She sat down at her desk and opened up a file, pen in hand ready to go when-

“Um, hey Emily. Can I ask you something?”

If it was anyone but Spencer, she probably would have told them to ask her during the lunch break she wasn’t going to take, but there was a hesitancy in his voice that made her stop. Emily knew she looked like she might bite someone if they bothered her- Morgan had already gotten a taste of her mood that morning- but Spencer never seemed to notice when her annoyance rose to the surface. If he was uncomfortable it was because he had his own problem. He needed her help.

And she needed his speed reading to get through all the files on her desk.

“Morning, Reid,” she said, her annoyance turning to concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, I- uh- I kind of saw something I shouldn’t have this morning and I wanted to ask you about it.” He rubbed his neck nervously.

Emily tried to keep a straight face as she thought of every embarrassing teenage incident captured on video or sin-to-win photograph that could possibly be out there for Spencer to come across.

“What is it?” Emily asked, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

“You like women romantically, right?”

Okay… that didn’t rule out embarrassing adolescent mistakes or weekends in Atlantic City.

“Yes.”

“Because I accidentally read (Y/N)’s diary this morning and she writes a lot about being attracted to girls but she hasn’t told me yet and-”

“You read your daughter’s diary?!” Emily wasn’t sure if she was more shocked that Reid would do such a thing, or relieved that her privacy was still intact. “Reid-”

“It was an accident!” he said. “I was looking for her reading summaries for school and she told me it was in the notebook on her desk and then I just saw it…”

Emily hoped the devastation on Spencer’s face was for the right reasons.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Yeah… it was for the right reasons.

Emily sighed, leaning her elbows on her desk. “I’m sure that you demonstrate your open-mindedness at home-”

“I do.”

“And I’m sure you tell (Y/N) that you love her no matter what-”

“All the time.”

“But that doesn’t make it any less scary.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

“Coming out isn’t easy. No matter how sure you are that you will be accepted there’s always a little bit of doubt. There’s always the fear that it’ll change the fundamental way a person loves you and that you’ll never treat them the same.” Emily pushed away memories- memories filled with pain and relief and anxiety and frustration. The only thing that eased the thoughts were that she knew you wouldn’t have to go through what she did; not with Spencer as your dad. “She’s probably feeling really afraid, even if she doesn’t show it.”

“How can I make it better?”

Spencer’s genuine love for you- a love that every child should get to experience- made Emily feel as though she was falling apart and being put back together again all at the same time.

“Just let her know you love her,” Emily said. “A little goes a long way.”

---

As you walked up to the door of the apartment you felt like you were floating on cloud nine; for two years you had been crushing on this girl you shared classes with. You knew she was openly and unapologetically gay- making it a point to post pictures of herself on social media with pride flags and holding hands with her now ex-girlfriend. They had broken up about eight months ago and ever since then you’d hope that she would notice you. For three months the two of you had hung out in group settings- getting to know one another with other people there as a buffer- but you’d gathered your courage today to ask her out on a date. And she said yes.

“So I guess the march was good?”

You were so distracted from the events of the day you hadn’t even noticed your dad was home.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, startled. “It was good. Really good. Lots of… social justice and things.” You cursed yourself for not having a better answer. You should have been good at faking feelings and answers by now, having been raised by a profiler. Even then, Spencer always saw right through you.

The high you were on came crashing down- your dad always saw right through you. There was no way you could go on a date, let alone your first date, without him catching on. Discomfort grappled with your stomach and anxiety bubbled in your chest. You tried to reach for the courage you had earlier, but it was gone.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Your dad walked over and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“Uh-” You swallowed. “Yeah- yeah, I’m fine.”

Your dad suddenly looked weary. It was the same look when he told you he was going to miss your tenth birthday because of a case, or when he got a call that your grandmother’s medication wasn’t working as well as they had hoped.

“(Y/N),” he started. “I love you. I really hope you know that. And I’m glad you had a good day.”

“I love you too, dad,” you said, waiting for him to break bad news. But it didn’t come. He just gave you his awkward tight-lipped smile before tucking your hair behind your ear and turning away.

There was something about the gesture and the words that called the courage back to you. Well, some of the courage.

“I’m going on a date,” you blurted. Spencer turned back to you. You tried to look for clues on his face or in his body language that would tell you what he was thinking or feeling, but you were too caught up in your own head to make sense of any of it. “I asked someone out on a date and they said yes.”

Your father smiled wide. “That’s great, honey! Is it anyone I know?”

“Oh- um-” Spencer didn’t know many of your friends in person, but he knew them from what you told him, and what Garcia could dig up on them. “Yeah. They’re in some of my classes.”

You waited for your dad to call you out on the vagueness of your language, but he didn’t. He only continued to smile and encourage you to go on- is it a study date or a real date? Real date. Weekend or after school? Weekend. Are you taking the metro or do you want him to drive you? Actually it was a walkable distance.

The more you talked, the more excited you got. You were still careful to control your language, but the bravery was beginning to grow. You thought about taking a deep breath, but you didn’t. Instead you just said, “And she’s a girl.”

The world stilled for just a moment- your heart which was beating fast with excitement was now racing with panic. Your stomach was in knots and you felt your hands begin to shake. “I’m gay, dad.”

Spencer placed a gentle hand over yours, stopping it from quivering. The look in his eyes couldn’t be described as happy, but it wasn’t sad. No… it was peace. It was content.

“I know,” he said.

“You- you do?” The weight began to lift off your shoulders, but it was replaced by a bit of shock.

“Yes.” Spencer smiled. “Next time you should clarify which of your notebooks you wrote your assignments in.” Both of you chuckled, and you felt your body unwind as tension left your muscles. “And if it’s any consolation, I think your poetry is great.”

You smiled. “You always love everything I write.”

Your dad pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Because I love you.”

There was no more tension now- no more fear and no more doubt- just you and your dad being excited about your first big crush and your first big date. And it didn’t matter that it was with a girl. Spencer would always love you no matter what.

"So," he said. "What are you going to wear?"

You thought about the clothes you had, but none of your outfits seemed just right.

"I think I might go shopping for something new," you said.

Spencer smiled. You had a shopping buddy- the same one since you were little.

"So I guess I'd better ask Emily."

[littlejuicebox]

A Pocket Full of Rainbows, A Star Up My Sleeve (1950s AU) / Chapter 1: The Drive In

Click here to read on AO3.

Summary: It's 1957, and for the first time in his life, Astarion Ancunin is happy. He's a newlywed, his spouse, Gustav Adler, is the editor-in-chief of the city's second most prominent newspaper, and they play keeping up with the Atherwindes next door. They are picture-perfect domesticity. Or so it seems. Secrets Astarion has kept hidden from his spouse begin to surface around their first anniversary, and Gustav is left to wonder... who exactly did he marry?

Tags/Warnings: This one starts off with smut (light BDSM if you squint and tilt your head) in Chapter 1 so there's that. This longfic will have a lot of hurt/angst/comfort + mild gore + mentions of Astarion's past trauma. I will update with a warning if there is a significant concern in any chapter.

Notes: Special thanks to @leomonae for beta-reading and holding my hand while I write this entire thing that has taken hold of me body and soul. And special thanks to all the awesome supportive people on my discord server that have hyped me up enough to give me the courage to post this.

-----

Cigar smoke spirals out of the barely cracked mahogany door and into the newsroom as the editor-in-chief, Gustav Adler, finalizes the layout for this weekend’s edition of the Baldur’s Herald. He’s running late — he should have been halfway home, by now. His wife is going to be furious with him if they miss the beginning of the movie. 

But this story has a chance of finally getting the Baldur’s Herald ahead of the Baldur’s Gate Gazette; he has to get it just right. There is still more investigation to be done, of course, but no one can deny several missing persons and multiple eyewitness reports of a mindflayer in the lower city. It’s certainly enough to sell papers and promote intrigue. 

The paper had gotten a decent boost when he’d been promoted to editor-in-chief a few years ago. The promotion of an openly gay man – a half-drow, nonetheless – to the position had garnered quite a bit of attention. Good and bad, of course. But as the saying goes, all publicity is good publicity. 

In the Herald’s case, that had been true. The groundbreaking move had put the previously small paper on the map and quickly catapulted it to second place in the rankings, where it had been ever since. Tav was convinced it would only take one powerful story to overtake the Gazette; he felt confident the culmination of this story would be the one to do it. 

A rapid knock on the door pulls Gustav from his work as he takes another drag of his nearly finished cigar; his top investigator, Karlach, is leaning against the door jamb. 

“There’s been another mindflayer sighting. Dekarios is on the ground now, I’m on my way to meet him,” she says, her eyes alight with excitement. The tiefling had been chasing this story for weeks and finally had enough for her article to make the front page of this weekend’s issue.

“Excellent — I’ll be back in the office tomorrow morning, Kar. I expect an update then. I would go with you two, but the wife won’t forgive me if I cancel two weeks in a row,” Gustav responds as he extinguishes his cigar in the unfinished coffee that sat atop his desk all day. 

Karlach chuckles good-naturedly as she straightens from the doorframe and moves to put on the suit jacket she’d been holding in her hand. “Tell Astarion I said hello; and thank him again for mending this for me.” 

“Will do— oh, and Karlach, can you run this by the printers before you head out? It’s the final layout for the weekend edition,” the editor-in-chief says as he moves to exit his own office. He hands the mock-up to his journalist and heads out of the building for the night. In the parking lot, Gustav rushes to his car and hopes his wife isn’t too terribly upset with him for being a bit late.

Astarion had been Gustav’s secretary for nearly six months before he finally worked up the courage to ask the other man on a date. It was never easy for Tav, doing such a thing, although sexuality laws had changed in his early adulthood and it was common to see people just like him about the city nowadays.

He couldn’t have assumed Astarion was interested in men simply because he alternated between wearing suits and dresses – which had been, of course, one of the things that caught Tav’s attention and fascinated him early on. Astarion managed to look breathtaking in both; Gustav had never seen anything quite like him and spent more time than he should have admiring his secretary sitting just outside his office door. As it turned out, Astarion had been flirting with him for months; he had always worried he was misinterpreting the signals. 

It wasn’t until Karlach hassled him for a week that Tav finally broke down and asked Astarion to dinner. They dated for just under a year, and married as soon as they were legally allowed – all legal documentation still required assigned roles of husband and wife, and in the public sense, these designations were required across the board. They’d randomly assigned titles with the flip of a coin.

It seemed ridiculous, in the beginning. Bureaucracy and politics could be so short-sighted; the world never seemed to dot all its i's and cross all its t’s before moving on to the next agenda. In public, the couple always used the assigned titles; at first, this had been mostly to avoid confusion or ignorant comments. But then one night, Gustav had jokingly called Astarion his “wife” and it had instantly ignited something within his lover. He’d never seen his spouse so excited in bed until that moment. 

From then on, in public and in private, Astarion was his wife. The word just had different meanings depending on context. As an editor, Gustav could wholeheartedly appreciate the subtleties of the phrase; as a husband, he loved the effect the word had on his wife when they were in bed.

*

As Gustav pulls up to the brownstone townhouse he and Astarion share, he immediately notices the new gardenia shrubs and mulch surrounding the Atherwinde’s front stoop. A soft groan of annoyance escapes his lips; he’d planned to tend their own garden next weekend, but now he would have to move that project up. He was not about to let their annoying nextdoor neighbor, Edmund Atherwinde, throw subtle remarks at him for an entire week whenever they ran into one another while leaving for work. Gustav is almost certain Eddie waits to see when he comes out in the morning, just to harass him as they both climb into their Chevrolet Bel-Airs. Gustav’s is the most recent model; Eddie’s is last year’s model. Not that he’s comparing, of course.

He glances at his wristwatch; it’s twenty minutes past the time he was supposed to be home. They should still be able to eat dinner and make it to the drive-in. He grabs the bow-wrapped box from the backseat and then makes his way into the townhome.

A quick jangle of keys echoes through the short foyer before Gustav calls, “Astarion, I’m home!”

“You’re late,” a cool, clipped voice replies from the kitchen. “I’ve had to keep dinner warm in the oven for twenty minutes, Tav.” 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Gustav responds as he moves to join his wife. He presents the box to Astarion with a toothy smile and a wink. “But, perhaps this will make it up to you.” 

The scowl that had been painted across Astarion’s face soon pulls up into a grin as he takes the box from Tav. A quick tug of the black grosgrain ribbon reveals the present inside – a mink stole. A soft gasp escapes Astarion as he removes the fur shawl from the packaging and wraps it around his shoulders. 

“Gorgeous,” Gustav compliments as he admires his lover. “I think it will go well with the gown you plan on wearing for our anniversary dinner.”

“Of course it will, darling,” Astarion responds before lifting onto his toes and pressing a kiss against his husband’s cheek, right upon the old scar Gustav got back in his military days. “It’s beautiful, thank you. Now, dinner, dear– and we’d better hurry.”

*

Dinner was nothing to write home about. Astarion was a fair to middling cook nowadays – in the beginning of their marriage, he’d burnt nearly every meal he made. Almost a year later, he’d managed to get the hang of a few simple recipes. Gustav, to his credit, never complained. All his time in the military taught him to accept far meager offerings than his wife’s creations; if he could eat cold beans from an aluminum can, he could handle a slightly charred meatloaf. 

They made it to the drive in just as the last previews finished. Astarion had been exceptionally excited to see this film – a horror movie about vampires, of all things. Gustav was not particularly interested in the movie, but willingly endured for his wife’s happiness. Until, of course, Astarion pressed up against him a little over halfway through the film – an innocent reaction to the scene playing on screen – and gripped dangerously high on Gustav’s thigh. 

Desire immediately flared through Tav, and when he turned to look at his wife, he wanted nothing more than to smear the perfectly painted red lipstick on the other man’s lips. So he did.

They were locked in a passionate kiss for several minutes, the movie all but forgotten. Their tongues wrapped around one another in a familiar embrace, a comfortable dance the two of them had become accustomed to. It did not take long for Gustav to begin advancing eagerly upon his wife.

“You’re insatiable,” Astarion chuckles as his lover playfully nips into his neck. A delighted shiver ghosts up his spine.

“Can you blame me?” Gustav asks as his lips trail to his lover’s chest, just exposed by the neckline of Astarion’s collared dress. His tongue swirls along alabaster skin before a sly hand moves under the skirt hem. “You’re delicious… and I’d very much like to have a taste.” 

Gustav’s thick, purple-gray fingers run along the inside of Astarion’s pale, muscled thigh and travel all the way up to the edge of a sheer, nylon stocking. He quickly finds a garter strap, pulls, and releases the elastic band. Astarion jumps and gasps as the skin on his leg turns into gooseflesh; his husband palms insistently between his legs.

“S-surely you don’t mean here, Tav,” Astarion whispers, his legs spreading slightly, making more room to accommodate the hand teasing his hardening cock. But even as Astarion says it, he’s hoping his husband actually does mean here – the mere thought of such a scandalous act is causing arousal to dampen the front of his undergarments. 

“Mmh, and why not?” Gustav asks, already beginning to slide from his seat, down to the floorboard. He wanders his hand down under the seat and pushes it back as far as it will go. It isn’t much, but enough for him to comfortably kneel between Astarion’s legs. He brings his hands to his wife’s knees and slowly presses them open with a sly smile. 

“I…” Astarion tries to respond, his face suddenly feeling quite hot as a blush of both embarrassment and desire spreads across his skin. His mouth goes dry as he looks down at the man between his legs. Gustav is slowly pushing up the hem of Astarion’s skirt and peering up at his lover as he licks his lips. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions, cocking his head just slightly. When his wife doesn’t respond, he begins to lower Astarion’s skirt; his purple-gray hand is suddenly caught between slender, milky-white fingers.

“Keep going,” Astarion quietly urges before casting a glance out the window. They’re in the final row of the drive-in. Only one other car is in the same row as them, and the couple in that car are far too distracted by one another’s mouths to pay any mind to the two men.

Gustav hums happily as he unceremoniously lifts Astarion’s skirt and drops his head underneath; he’s greeted with a pale, leaking cock straining against a pair of sheer, silk panties. The sight causes his own cock to stir in his trousers. 

“Now be a good little wife and hold very, very still for me, baby,” Gustav commands with a final snap of Astarion’s garter strap. His wife gasps and squirms in his seat before obediently stilling. Tav doesn’t waste any more time with foreplay; his hands come under Astarion’s dress and quickly tear the underwear in two – he’ll buy a replacement pair later. Astarion’s cock springs proudly from its confines, bobbing slightly and begging to be sucked.

Tav brings both hands to the pale thighs on either side of his head as he pulls Astarion’s cock into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the head languidly, causing more pre-fluid to leak onto his tongue. The salty, musky taste makes his mouth water in delight. He’s certain he will never tire of tasting his wife.

A whimper escapes Astarion’s lips when his husband takes all of his length. Gustav’s warm, wet throat contracts around Astarion’s cock and then, much too soon, he retracts and begins to swirl his tongue around its pink, swollen head. Tav repeats this several times and each time his throat squeezes around Astarion, it takes everything within him to not buck upwards. His thighs are trembling. He so badly wants to move, to seek the heat of his lover’s mouth. But he wants to be a good wife, so he forces himself to obey the command. 

The excited keening becomes louder and more insistent the longer Gustav teases him. By now the movie is almost over, and Astarion is catching flashes of the end scene through blurred vision and panting breaths. He clamps his eyes shut as Gustav, once again, swallows him to the hilt. This time his husband holds the position and hums, both hands squeezing into Astarion’s thighs.

“Aah, Tav–” Astarion whimpers, his tone pleading, “Tav, please–” 

But Gustav retracts and his wife whines. He cannot help but smile at the neediness. He forces Astarion’s skirt up over his thighs, exposing his arousal-slicked face and his lover’s hard, weeping cock all at once. He peers up at his wife with a pleased smirk; Astarion meets him with half-hooded lids and blown pupils. 

“Already, baby? Really?” Gustav purrs, one hand coming to caress Astarion’s scrotum. He applies a light bit of pressure and admires the way pre-fluid dribbles from his lover’s desperate cock. His tongue darts out to slowly lap up the string of clear liquid running down Astarion’s shaft. “I don’t think I’ve worshiped my wife quite long enough.” 

Astarion impatiently squirms in his seat. He’d been doing a rather excellent job holding still until now, but the ache between his legs is growing increasingly insistent, and his husband has teased him long enough. When Gustav’s hands wrap around his cock he moans and his head falls back reflexively. The movie’s end credits are starting to roll. 

“Please, Gustav… I can’t– I can’t any longer, please–” Astarion begs, through sharp shaking breaths. His hips stutter forward insistently into the other man’s fists.

“Very well,” Gustav responds, and with little warning he drops his hands and takes all of Astarion in his mouth again. Pale fingers clutch into Tav’s cropped white hair, pulling slightly just at the nape of his neck. He hums his encouragement as he bobs his head up and down the length of his wife’s cock, covering it in saliva and spreading the growing amounts of pre-fluid dripping from its tip.

Gustav can tell by the breathy keening sounds his wife is making that he is close to release. His own cock is straining within his trousers – but that can wait until they get home. The first orgasm always leaves Astarion desperate for more, anyway. 

Tav swallows Astarion’s length once again, intentionally contracting his throat around the pale cock in his mouth. His wife bites back a moan and comes, hips thrusting up as warm seed spills down Tav’s throat. Astarion’s cock continues to pulse for a while longer, and Tav expertly swallows every last drop of his lover’s spend. 

When he feels the other man’s fingers retract from his hair, Gustav carefully pulls back and releases Astarion’s slowly softening cock. He swirls his tongue around the tip one last time, forcing a final whimper from his lover before easing back and placing a few kisses against Astarion’s thigh. 

“Darling,” Astarion pants as he runs his fingers through sweat-drenched curls. His lipstick is completely smeared across his face; he looks wrecked. “Take me home and make love to me.”

Gustav grins in response as he begins to climb back into the driver’s seat. Many of the cars in the lot have pulled away by now. “Anything for my beautiful wife.” 

*

They crash through the townhome door, a mess of half-removed clothing and desire. Astarion shoves Tav against the front entrance as soon as it shuts behind them and grinds himself along Tav’s thigh. The rotary phone in the living room is ringing, but they pay it no mind. 

Gustav quickly undoes the buttons of his wife’s dress and strips it from his body. He’s entirely naked underneath, save the garter belt and stockings – the ruined bits of underwear were left on the floorboard of the car. Astarion is undoing his husband’s belt buckle when the phone stops ringing; he moves to drop to his knees right in front of Tav, but he is quickly pulled back up.

“Not here on the tile, baby. It’s much too hard,” he murmurs as he guides his wife over to the carpeted living room. As soon as they’re in front of the couch, Astarion rips Tav’s trousers and undergarments off in one swift motion and then guides his husband to sit on the serpentine sofa. 

“Now, darling, let me repay you for earlier,” Astarion purrs as his hands teasingly slide up his lover’s purple thighs. He’s just about to take Gustav’s cock in his hands when the phone begins ringing again; it’s a sharp, shrill, distracting sound.

Gustav groans in irritation. He quickly leans over to pull the handset from the stand and uses a finger to hang up on the caller. He tosses the receiver haphazardly, leaving it off the hook so that the phone will not ring and interrupt him and his wife again. It’s well past ten at night; whoever is calling can wait until the morning and call back then.

He turns his attention back to Astarion and smiles. Then, he reaches out and brings two fingers under his wife’s chin before he gently presses upwards. They meet one another with a slow, gentle kiss. When Gustav retracts, Astarion is staring up at him in wide-eyed adoration.

“Now, where were we?” Gustav asks. Astarion chuckles in response before wrapping two pale hands around the cock in front of him; it’s already leaking in anticipation as he slowly strokes up and down the length.

“I think we were just getting to the good part, my love,” Astarion murmurs, peering up at his husband through hooded lids before dropping his head to take Gustav between a pair of lipstick-smeared lips.

The phone stays off the hook for the rest of the night. 

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

06/09/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR: Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Rachel House; Taika & Samba; Gypsy Taylor; Watch Parties; SOFMD Crew Fibre Arts Auction; AOC: Raffle Update; Articles; Fan Spotlight; Cast Cards; Our Flag Means Fanfiction Podcast; Big Gay Energy Podcast; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== Rhys Darby ==

More photos of Rhys from To 29 and Beyond!

Source: The Girl Blogger's Instagram

Also Rhys shared this on his instagram stories-- don't worry Rhys, we're way ahead of you! Round 2 is closed! On to Round 3!

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram Stories

== Taika & Samba ==

Taika was found responding to Samba's post yesterday, nice to see him making comments on social media again!

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

Taika was out with Sterlin Harjo! (Creator of Resevoir Dogs)

Source: Sterlin Harjo's Instagram

== Rachel House ==

Rachel has been out attending the Sydney Film Festival, and was interviewed on TheProjectTV about her movie The Mountain.

Source: Temaungafilm Instagram

Source: TheProjectTV's Instagram

Source: SydFilmFestival Instagram

== Gypsy Taylor ==

Some very fun looking outfits with Gypsy Taylor!

Source: PainterByNumbers / Gypsy Taylor's Instagram

== Watch Parties ==

Good Omens Season 2

Dates: June 10-14, 2024

Times: 3:30 pm PT, 6:30 pm ET, 11:30 pm BST

Episodes: M-Th: 1-4, F: 5-6

Where: RhysDarbyFaction Discord Server

Need access? Reach out to @gentlebeardsbarngrill on tumblr or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week ==

TealOranges & Garlic Soup Week is still coming up on June 23 - 29! Wanna learn more of the prompts? Please visit their Tumblr!

Source: TealOranges & GarlicSoupWeek Twitter

== SOFMD Crew: Fibre Arts Auction ==

SaveOFMD Crew has announced their auction items! Lots of folks in the fandom have donated fibre-arts prizes to help benefit our Queer Elders at SAGE USA! You can check out the prizes on the saveofmdcrew website. The auction will be opening in a few days!

Source: SaveOFMD Crew Instagram

== AOC: Our Flag Means Pride Raffle ==

Raffle Update on #OurFlagMeansPride! 40 Charities already benefited! Raffle tickets are still available! You can enter on their page!

Source: AdoptOurCrew Tumblr

== Articles ==

Heyyyy, Tokyo Vice Also Cancelled on HBO Max :(

After Max Raised Its Subscription Prices, The Streamer Confirmed Another One Of Its Shows Is Canceled

10 Best Period Drama Shows of the Last 5 Years, Ranked

== Taika 2048 ==

Okay, who was going to tell me there was a Taika Waititi 2048? Thank you to @lisahafey for posting on Twitter so I can finally lose myself in this for the next many many hours.

Source: Lisa Hafey's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight / News =

= Cast Cards =

First up tonight from @melvisik is another member of the Red Flag Crew, Kathleen S. ! Second is another one of awesome directors - Katie Ellwood!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Our Flag Means Fanfiction ==

Next up on Our Flag Means Fanfiction is The Dark Episode (hurt/comfort, whump, angst)! Find somewhere to listen on Our Flag Means Fanfiction Linktr.ee.

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== Big Gay Energy Podcast ==

New episode of Big Gay Energy Pod! They're talking These Thems this time around! Check them out on your favorite podcast platform!

Source: Big Gay Energy Podcast Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. Another weekend has come to an end, and we're starting another work week. Whether you got some rest, or just got some stuff done, I hope you are in a place where you feel you can face the next few days-- and if not, I hope you get some rest and get a chance to recoup. I've been hearing several folks running into some struggles--struggles brought on by others. Whether those who cause it intend to or not, I want you to know my friends, you don't deserve to be treated badly. You really don't. Don't let those people make you feel like you deserve that. You deserve to be happy, to feel safe, to feel comfortable, to feel like you, in your own skin, whatever that means for you.

I know you probably already know, but sometimes it's good to hear it from an outside source too-- you are not what other people think you are or expect of you. You are you. The ever wonderful, kind, unique, beautiful you. On hard days I know it's hard to see, but you're still there, and things will look up again. Be kind to yourself lovelies, you deserve the best, no matter what anyone says. Rest Well, I hope the start to your week turns out calm and kind to you <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is...thoughtful with glasses. Gifs courtesy of kind @eaion and the fantastic @celluloidbroomcloset!

[moni-logues]

Kintsugi 10

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 8.3k

Content: drinking drinking and more drinking! a fun callback to ch2 and a fun visit from someone (or someoneS) that fans of my other work might recognise...👀

A/N:

Thank you to @quarter-life-crisis2 for the beta!

Chapter Nine | Masterlist | Chapter Eleven

Chapter Ten  -  Impasse

“You don’t have dinner with Yoongi this week, right? Want to hang out tomorrow night?” 

You swivelled your chair towards Taehyung and gave him an apologetic look. 

“It’s his birthday party tomorrow.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake... Yeah, I remember.” 

You were touched by how put out he was that you were busy and there was more than a little guilt there, too. If it had been anyone else, if it had been anything less than Yoongi’s birthday—his 30th at that—you would have cancelled without question. Lord knew Taehyung had done the same for you.  

“You can come, if you want?” you offered. “Yoongi will 100% not mind at all.” 

“Ugh, and third wheel you guys all night? No fucking thank you.” 

“He might have cute friends? I’ve only met one of them, once, but he was very handsome.” 

Taehyung shook his head. For all his insistence, when you were the broken-hearted one, that you should get back on the horse, he had been a little slow to do the same. You didn’t push him on it—hadn't been pushing him on it, but you were starting to think maybe a little pushing was what he needed. It was, after all, what he did to you and whilst he might not have been entirely right, he had had a point. It wasn’t like Taehyung to be backward about coming forwards; on a different day, in different circumstances, he might well have leapt at the chance to ‘third wheel’ you and Yoongi and prey on his cute, gay friends (assuming Yoongi had them).  

You were going to push the issue, just a little, but he turned his attention back towards his monitor, and you took it as a sign to switch tack.  

“I can come over after?” 

“YES.” 

His answer was immediate, emphatic, and enthusiastic. He turned back to you with wide eyes. 

“Yes, come over for a debrief. Please. But can you please make it interesting? You owe me.” 

“Define ‘interesting’.” 

“Oh, I don’t know! Tell me there was a fight or you found me a date or you finally fucking told Yoongi how you feel.” 

“Noooo,” you whined and tipped your head forward into your hands. You pretended to cry a little. Then you sighed. “Sometimes I think I can tell him; sometimes I want to tell him, but then I think about actually doing it and change my mind. It’s just-… It’s like you said; having a crush is fun! Do you know how weird and giddy I feel like, every time he texts me? I feel like I’m on drugs! It’s so cute and he’s so cute and I just want to eat him up whole, y’know? And it’s like that, it’s just like that until I think about us being together, or telling him how I feel, or trying to put these feelings into any kind of action. Then it’s like a fucking door slamming in my face. I want to tell him but I... I don’t know what comes next.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know? What comes next is the relationship, being together, all that stuff you want.” 

You squirmed. As fun and enjoyable as your crush on Yoongi was, that was how dreadful and anxiety-inducing the thought of being with him was. The same thing, in a way, and yet they produced such opposing reactions in you. You didn’t want to deal with that fear, with that uncertainty. You just wanted to stay in this sweet, little crush space forever and you told Taehyung as much.  

“Do you, though? Forever? You think you can bear seeing him and not being with him forever?” 

“No! Of course I can’t! But I... I’m not ready.” 

It was the first time you had said it–out loud and to yourself. You weren’t ready. You didn’t know when you would be ready or what you needed to do to get there but you nodded to yourself, knowing you were right. You weren’t ready yet. You couldn’t cross that line.  

“Are you sure? Because this party really would be a great opportunity for it. It’s his birthday, and nothing says ‘I have huge, sappy feelings for you’ better than sloppy birthday head, just saying.” 

“Teddy!”  

You gave him a sharp slap on the arm for that one. 

“What? I’m right.” 

“I am not going to do that,” you said through gritted teeth.  

He merely shrugged and rolled his eyes, turning back to his monitor having lost interest. 

“Suit yourself.”  

“Happy birthday, bro!” Jin cried as he sat next to Yoongi and gave his back a slap. 

“Thanks,” was Yoongi’s quiet reply as he picked up his chopsticks. 

“Excited for your party?” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, it’s your birthday! It’ll be fun!” 

He grunted noncommittally.  

“You-know-who will be there,” Jin was cajoling in a sing-song voice. 

“I know and I don’t know why you refer to her like that; she has a name and you know what it is.” 

“Yes, but she remains a mystery to us all since none of us has ever met her, which is why we had to make you throw this party!” 

“I don’t know why it matters.” Yoongi was mumbling because he’d had this conversation with them before. Too many times. So many times, in fact, that they had worn him down and he had agreed to throw this party, just so they could meet you.  

“Because-” Jin slammed his hand down on the table for emphasis “-you have been moping around this entire year-” 

“It’s only March-” 

“-This entire year! Pining after her and we are sick of it. We’re going to judge her and see if she’s right for you and then we’re going to push you together and make you kiss like you’re Barbie and Ken.” 

Yoongi scowled. This was exactly what he didn’t want. This was why he had, not entirely consciously but nevertheless had, been keeping you separate. He liked keeping you like a secret, just his, where no one could get you and no one could see him. His friends were bad enough as it was; he knew if they met you, they would become insufferable in their ‘encouragement’. There was also the fear that you would like one of them better, that he would become a stepping stone to your future, eternal happiness with someone else. 

Not that he didn’t want you to be happy. He did. And you could definitely do worse than his friends, but the thought of having to see you around, with him (whichever him it was), and having to be happy about it made him feel sick. 

“Who’s Barbie and Ken?” Yijeong asked, taking a seat opposite Yoongi and apologising for being late. 

“Yoongi and his mystery woman,” Jin answered whilst Yoongi continued scowling. 

“Oh shit yeah, she’s coming to the party, right?” 

Yoongi nodded.  

“You’ve got to tell her, dude,” Yijeong demanded with a mouthful of sashimi. “It’s the perfect opportunity! It’s your fucking birthday, bro!” 

“I’m not telling her anything. There’s nothing to tell.” 

Both of his friends scoffed and rolled their eyes. 

“We’re not stupid, Yoongi. You’ve been a miserable cunt this year and we all thought it was because your granddad died and you had to go back to Daegu but thank god for Namjoon, because he told us everything.” 

“Can’t believe you trust Namjoon over me.” 

“Namjoon is in a happy relationship,” Yoongi reasoned. 

“First of all, ow, rude. Second of all, I’m married,” Jin argued back. 

“You’re getting divorced.” 

“NO, she wants to divorce me and I have not agreed to it. Besides-” he said with a huge sweep of his hand, “-this is not about me. This is about you. And what has Namjoon told you to do?” 

Namjoon had told Yoongi to do pretty much the exact same thing that Jin and Yijeong had told him to do: be honest. Confess. He wasn’t prepared to do that.  

He had gone to Namjoon because Namjoon had somehow dug an incredibly fulfilling, loving relationship out of a disaster and he had been hoping there was some sort of secret to it, something that he could do that would get him over the hump without actually having to get over it.  

He should have known better. Not only was Namjoon’s advice to be honest about his feelings, but the conversation had involved him saying things like ‘it got a lot worse before it got better’ and ‘it was kind of painful’ and ‘I really don’t think I’ve ever put myself out there more, to be honest’. Yoongi wasn’t up to that. As much as he felt like it was killing him to have you so close and yet so far, he couldn’t bring it home, couldn’t drag it across the line. There was too much at stake.  

He let himself think about it, just once. On the eve of his birthday, lying in his bed, looking at the clock slowly edging towards midnight, he thought about what he wanted. No presents. He didn’t care about presents; he could buy what he wanted or needed. He wanted you. He wanted a relationship with you, a future with you. He wanted you, lying next to him in bed, counting down the minutes with him. He imagined you would be more excited than he was; you would make him wear a party hat and be ready with a party blower for the second the minute ticked over. He would pretend to be annoyed by it, because you found that just as much fun, but no one had ever been excited for him like that before and he would think about how grateful he was to have you, celebrating him.  

He couldn’t imagine you sweeter or kinder than you were now. He couldn’t imagine having more fun than he did with you now. He imagined being happy, content, at peace: waking with you and going to sleep with you; cooking with you and curling up on the sofa; just being with you and being happy. He knew that you would make him happy because you already did. You made him feel a little softer, a little mellower, a little warmer. You made him want to be closer than he had been to anyone. He already was closer to you, really, than he had been with anyone; you had seen more sides of him, more honest parts of him, than anyone else. And you were still here.  

But he knew that was as far as it went, as far as he would take it. You meant more to him than he dared to admit to anyone, than he could stand to admit to himself, and he wasn’t going to risk it. Not for a fantasy. 

For one night, though, he did let himself imagine it. He indulged himself a little, let him think about what he might, in some parallel universe, be able to have.  

“Earth to Yoongi.” 

Yijeong waved his chopsticks in front of Yoongi’s face. 

“See?” Jin asked. “You’re not even listening to us because you’re too busy being moony-eyed after her!” 

“You’ve got to do something, bro. It’s your birthday. Get yourself a present and get yourself a girlfriend.” 

“I’m not sure that’s really how it works,” Yoongi replied. “She’s not a present.” 

“You know what I mean! Tell her how you feel and get it over with! It’ll be like a weight’s been lifted-” 

“And then a heavier one slammed back down when she rejects me.” 

“She’s not going to reject you, you fucking moron!” Jin leant across and stole the final piece of Yoongi’s dragon roll. “I’m taking this as payment for having to listen to you say something so stupid.” 

“Whatever.” Yoongi had finished his food and was more than finished with this conversation. He didn’t want to think about this on his birthday. He just wanted to get through the day and make it to dinner (slightly unfortunate that Jin and Yijeong were coming to that, too, but maybe this way they’d have got this conversation out of their systems). “I’m not telling her anything and neither is anyone else.”  

He was being unreasonable; he knew they were trying to be helpful, encouraging; he knew they were on his side. But he was anxious about the party, anxious about his feelings for you, anxious about trying not to anxious. He reminded himself of things he’d been learning lately, repeating little mantras to himself while Jin and Yijeong continued to speculate wildly on what would happen; he tuned them out and reminded himself that he could be happy, that he would be happy, regardless of what happened. 

You shoved Yoongi’s present rather unceremoniously into your bag, took a deep breath and another shot for good luck before putting on your coat, opening your door, and braving the night. 

It was foggy and cold enough for your breath to still cloud in front of you, making it feel far more wintery than you felt it had any right to. It gave the night an air of mystery, everything cloaked in silver, the approaching corner appearing as if from nowhere.  

You’d have preferred a clear night, one with spring nipping at its heels, promising warmth and light and the end of winter. It would have given you your own spring in your step. As it was, you were wrapping your thin coat (you had thought it would be warm enough to leave your puffy coat at home) around you tightly, walking quicker, and blowing at your red, numbing fingers.  

You were excited. It had been some time since you’d been to a party and you were looking forward to meeting Yoongi’s friends. There was an edge of apprehension to your excitement but you shook it off (the shots helped with that); you liked parties and you liked meeting new people and you were good at it and it was Yoongi’s birthday and he’d asked you to be there. It was all coming up Millhouse. 

You just hoped what you were wearing was appropriate. It wasn’t until you were dressing that you realised you hadn’t asked about a dress code. You had heard of the bar where the party was being held and assumed the rest, but as you slipped on your little black dress (a classic, a failsafe), it occurred to you that you might be getting it very wrong.  

Some panicked texts to Taehyung, some impatient replies back, a lot of selfies and wardrobe changes later, you had ended up back in the black dress. It was a nice dress, one that you felt confident in, one that San used to joke about not letting you wear because it was too sexy and he wouldn’t be able to fight off his competition. You wanted to look sexy tonight. You hadn’t dressed like this for Yoongi before, or around Yoongi. He hadn’t seen you like this, not really. You were, somewhere deep down there, hoping for a positive reaction.  

* 

You were stopped short at the entrance to the bar. 

“Sorry, ma’am, there’s a private function tonight.” 

“Uh, I, yeah, I know. I was invited.” 

“Oh, can I have your name please?” 

You gave the security guard your name and they checked a list and let you through. You left your bag and coat in a cloakroom to the left and entered the main space. 

It was far busier than you had expected. How many friends did Yoongi have?! The room was full, all the sofas at the back and the booths along the side, too. You walked through the crowd, scanning for Yoongi, wondering how you would spot him through the sea of white shirts and black suit jackets. A familiar face appeared—not Yoongi, but Namjoon. You waved and he frowned, taking a second or two to recognise you. His face softened as he did and he waved you over. 

“Hi!” you said, brighter than you probably should have been but so relieved to have found someone you knew.  

“Hey, nice to see you again. You look very nice.” 

“Thank you. I was worried it would be too much? Kind of didn’t really get a dress code from Yoongi.” 

“That does not surprise me, but you look beautiful, don’t worry.” 

You didn’t miss the kick at the ankle the woman next to Namjoon gave him. He apologised and introduced you both; it was his girlfriend, Suri. Of course.  

“We met once when I was looking after Cherry,” he explained to her before turning back to you. “Do you want a drink? It’s a free bar so go crazy.” 

“A free bar?! Fucking hell, how much money does one guy have?” 

“Oh, they’re all fucking loaded,” Suri replied, “it’s kind of sickening. But also, the manager here definitely has a thing for Yoongi so I expect he got a very good deal.” 

“Oh?” 

You tried not to be interested, but a spark of jealousy ignited in you. Did Yoongi like the manager, too? Is that why he chose this place? Namjoon responded quickly and dispelled (most of) your worry. 

“Oh, you say that about everyone,” he said, addressing his girlfriend. 

“Yeah, because everyone has a thing for Yoongi! Don’t tell me that’s not true. People like him.” 

‘And why shouldn’t they?’ you thought. Everyone should. Obviously. It was Yoongi—why wouldn’t they? 

“I’m sure he only likes Yoongi as much as he likes anyone else, but even if he did have a crush, he has a business to run; he’s not going to make a loss because of it.” 

‘I would,’ you couldn’t help thinking and were glad and extremely proud of yourself for managing not to say it. 

“Says Mr Take-All-My-Money! You know you would, if it were me.” 

Namjoon didn’t have a comeback to that and you were glad; you didn’t want to talk about other people having crushes on Yoongi. Your own crush was more than enough to deal with. 

At the bar, Namjoon left you and you ordered a gin and tonic for yourself and one for Suri. 

“Namjoon has told me I’m supposed to look after you,” she told you, matter-of-factly. “I don’t know if you actually need looking after because you seem more comfortable here than I am but, y’know, I’m here for you or something.” 

You laughed. 

“Namjoon seems like a really good guy.” 

You could see her try to fight a smile, but she gave up quickly and it lit her face like a spotlight. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty nice.” 

You laughed again. 

“Have you met Yoongi? I feel like you and he might get on quite well.” 

She laughed this time and nodded. 

“Yeah, he was actually the first one of Namjoon’s friends to give me a chance, so I’ve kind of got a soft spot for him. And I meant it when I said people like him; I don’t know, there’s something about him. He’s likable, right?” 

You nodded and hummed your agreement. You didn’t prod, though your curiosity had been piqued about her history with Namjoon, because you knew if she was anything like Yoongi, you had to let her come to you; any pressure and she would clam up like an oyster. 

“Do you know where Yoongi is? I’ve only just arrived but I haven’t seen him yet.” 

She shrugged. 

“Namjoon said my job is to look out for you and his job is to stop Yoongi hiding from everyone, so I expect he is hiding from everyone.” 

That sounded like the Yoongi you knew.  

“Yeah, I have to say, this is not really what I expected. To be honest, I didn’t really imagine he would be into parties at all, let alone throwing one for his birthday, and this is way more than I expected.” 

“I don’t think he was given much choice. Even Namjoon was pestering him to do something; I think they wore him down and this ended up being the path of least resistance.” 

“They made him have a party?” 

“I only know what Namjoon tells me and he told me a while ago to keep this night free because they were trying to get Yoongi to throw a party. I said I didn’t think Yoongi liked parties and Namjoon said he doesn’t but that’s not the point.” She threw her hands in the air as if to say ‘hell if I know’ and shrugged.  

“But these really are all Yoongi’s friends?” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t expect him to have friends; you knew he had friends, you just hadn’t expected so many of them. He wasn’t exactly a people-person, not really, yet he had managed to get an entire bar-full of people to show for his birthday. Maybe she was right-- well, she was right; Yoongi was likable. It was just that he didn’t usually like that many people back.  

She shrugged. 

“I have no idea. I know a couple of them, because they’re friends with Namjoon, too, but most of them? I got nothing. I think Yoongi’s more popular than he thinks he is, though; people like him. I know I keep saying that. I don‘t mean it in a weird way; it’s just true. Wouldn’t surprise me if they all think they’re friends with Yoongi. Meanwhile, he probably doesn’t even realise they know his name.” 

That sounded like Yoongi, too. 

“You’re right. Yoongi’s great.” 

It was you who couldn’t keep the grin off your face, now. You had to find him.  

“I’m going to go and look for him, is that ok?” 

“Yeah, do what you want! Do you want me to come, too?” 

You were sure she did not want you to take her up on that offer and you didn’t need a hand-holder, so you declined and let her off-duty to go and find Namjoon. She was almost offensively relieved. 

* 

“Are you the mystery woman?”  

A tall, broad man stopped you and peered closely at you. 

“Uh, I don’t know?” 

He asked your name and when you gave it, he cheered and called loudly for his friends. 

“It’s you!” he cried, shaking you by the shoulder. “The guest of honour!” 

“I’m... The guest of honour?” 

“Do you know how long we’ve been waiting to meet you?” Another asked. 

“I, um... Uh, no?” 

Yoongi pushed between the two of them and looked at you, slightly panicked, a little apologetic. You were relieved to see him and to know that they were his friends and he was coming to rescue you from them... You assumed he was here to rescue anyway. 

“Please ignore everything they’ve said to you.” 

“Ah, Yoongi, we haven’t said anything!” the taller of the two exclaimed. 

“Not yet!” chimed the other, with a performative wink. 

“Should I know what is going on here?” you asked, feeling a little lost. 

“We’ve heard so much about you, but Yoongi has been gatekeeping you from us.” 

“Can you believe you’ve never met any of Yoongi’s friends before-” 

“-Oh, well, I know Namjoon.” 

They both turned to Yoongi and you couldn’t tell if the outrage on their faces was real or acted. 

“What?!” 

“Yoongi, what the fuck, man? You let Namjoon meet her? And not us?” 

Yoongi looked pained. 

“It was when I was in Daegu. It’s not like I planned it.” 

He looked a little put out, a little pouty, his brows pulling together just slightly over his eyes. It was cute, seeing him be teased by people other than you, by people who knew him, by people who liked him. You decided you liked them already. You thrust your hand out to them and introduced yourself properly. 

“Jin,” the taller of the two replied. 

“Yijeong.” 

“And you both... work with Yoongi?” 

“Ah, I used to,” Jin answered. “Then I left the dark side.” 

“I’m still on the dark side,” said Yijeong. 

You made small talk, the four of you, for a little longer but there were knowing glances between Jin and Yijeong that made you feel self-conscious, like something else was happening, like you might unknowingly be the butt of a joke. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom.  

You turned back at the door and could only see their backs, your view of Yoongi completely obscured and when you returned, Yoongi had disappeared again. 

* 

You made a few more trips to the bar in between trying to insert yourself into conversations. Most people were nice and welcoming and it was fine, but you weren’t at the party for them and Yoongi was still nowhere to be seen.  

Deciding to give your feet a break, you perched at the end of a booth and finished your drink. It wasn’t long before Namjoon found you.  

He almost walked right past you, but he did a double-take and turned. 

“Are you ok?”  

You nodded. 

“Why are you on your own? Wher-” 

“Suri’s just gone to the bar,” you lied, not wanting to get his girlfriend into trouble. You couldn’t really imagine Namjoon causing trouble, but you erred on the side of caution. 

“Oh, ok, good. Are you ok, though? Are you having a good time? Have you seen Yoongi yet?” 

“Yes, yes, and yes, though only briefly. I met Jin and Yijeong and he showed up. Then when I came back from the toilets, he had gone somewhere else.” 

Namjoon sighed and gestured for you to shove up a little on the bench so he could sit next to you. 

“I found him earlier on the roof,” he said, “so if you want to find him, I’d go there first.” 

“Oh, thanks!” 

You wanted then to go and find him immediately, but Namjoon had blocked you in. He was looking thoughtfully into his own glass and all you could do was wait for him to speak up. 

“You and Yoongi are close, huh?” he asked eventually. 

“Yep.” 

“We didn’t really get a chance to talk much when we met before. I felt a little weird, to be honest; it felt strange meeting you in his apartment when he wasn’t there.” 

“Yes! I felt the same.”  

You laughed a little nervously and the nerves didn’t stop when Namjoon turned to look directly at you, his face serious. 

“You’re important to him, you know that?” 

You swallowed. 

“Yes.” 

He nodded and turned back to his glass, obviously still thinking.  

“I feel like you want to say something,” you told him. 

“I do, but I don’t think I should.” 

“I say a lot of stuff I shouldn’t, if I’m honest,” you began, hoping you could just steamroll right over this conversation because you didn’t know where it was heading, but you wouldn’t stand up to an interrogation – you'd had too much to drink and lord knew Taehyung had heard enough about Yoongi, so you were dying for another outlet to talk about him. “It’s probably my number one skill, if you can call it a skill. The real trick is getting me to shut up, but no one’s figured that one out yet.” You let out yet more nervous laughter and ploughed on. “I don’t really know how to not say what’s in my head, y’know? I’ve been working on it, trying to keep my trap shut, trying to maintain an air of mystery if you will. I don’t think it’s going very well, to be honest. Not really in my nature...” 

You began to peter out when you noticed Namjoon’s face change. He was frowning at first, not sure where you were going with your rambling, then he was listening, and now he was patiently, indulgently smiling at you.  

“You are very sweet,” he said, interrupting you. 

“Oh, uh, I, uh... ok?” 

You didn’t know how to respond to that. You had been so busy working out how to keep on talking that you hadn’t expected him to say anything at all. Definitely not something like that.  

“Uh, you have a girlfriend, right?” 

Namjoon looked briefly horrified and immediately held his hands up in surrender. 

“No, no! Oh no, I did not mean- I wasn’t-” 

“Oh ok, n-” 

“-No, no, no, I wasn’t trying to come on to you-” 

“Yeah, of course, I-” 

“-oh god, no, no. Yes! Yes, I have a girlfriend-” 

“No, I know, I j-” 

“-God, sorry I didn’t-” 

“No, it’s fine. Sorry.” 

“Sorry.” 

You smiled at each other sheepishly, both embarrassed. Namjoon cleared his throat. 

“I meant for Yoongi. You are sweet. I’m glad.”  

He paused but you knew he hadn’t finished, so you just waited. All your practice with Yoongi paying off. 

“I think you have been very good for him,” he said, slowly, evenly, still thinking out the sentence as he was saying it. “I don’t think anyone thought taking those baking classes was a good idea at the time, but we’re pretty unanimous now that we’re happy he did.” 

Embarrassment burnt on your cheeks and you were grateful for the dim lighting. You bit the inside of your lip, not trusting yourself to speak. Namjoon was still considering you carefully and his gaze was watchful, penetrating; you felt as if he could see right through you. Maybe he could. Or maybe he didn’t need to; your feelings had always been bright and loud—you'd said it yourself. You usually wore your heart on your sleeve; perhaps you weren’t doing as good a job of hiding it as you thought. 

“I know he is very happy you came tonight,” he continued, still slow, still thoughtful. 

“I am happy to have come.” 

In the beat that passed, before Namjoon could take his turn, you bit the bullet. It was on the tip of your tongue anyway; Namjoon would have got it out of you sooner or later (likely very much sooner). 

“I like him.” 

You wished Namjoon would stop looking at you like that. 

“I mean, like... Like him,” you attempted to clarify, to prompt Namjoon into a useful response. “I have feelings for him.” 

Namjoon didn’t attempt to hide his smile. He nodded, mostly to himself, and took a sip of his drink. 

“That’s good,” was all he said. 

“What does that mean? ‘That’s good’?” 

“You know someone has to go first, right? Someone has to take the leap. If you both stand still... Nothing will change.” 

You already wished you could eat back your words. Namjoon wasn’t Taehyung; he didn’t know everything. You couldn’t tell him everything, not here, not now. It was too much. You shouldn’t have said anything; it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that easy. You weren’t ready.  

“I know,” he said, responding to you as if he had read your mind. “Taking the leap is scary. Horrible. Sometimes it goes horribly wrong.” He turned to scan the crowd (you assumed he was looking for Suri) then he looked back at you. “Sometimes it goes horribly wrong for a while before being incredibly right. Sometimes it takes a bit longer to get to where you want, but you’ll never get anywhere if you don’t start.” 

“Did it go horribly with Suri?” 

He nodded. 

“Yeah, for a bit.” 

“And now?” 

“I’ve never been happier.” 

You groaned. Much as you wanted them to be happy, that was not what you wanted to hear.  

“It’s not really my place to get involved; I’m trying to not get involved... I didn’t say anything, ok? I haven’t said anything, but I’m just saying...”  

He gestured to encourage you to complete his sentence. You didn’t want to.  

“Please don’t tell Yoongi what I said,” you asked, pleading with your eyes, praying you could trust Namjoon. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone anything,” he confirmed, “but I think you should tell him.” 

You just shook your head. You were beginning to feel a little claustrophobic trapped in by him; you wanted some space, some air, a little time to clear your head, to maybe text Taehyung about what stupid thing you’d done now. 

Suri saved you, popping up across the room and waving him over. He gave you a meaningful look and a pat on the shoulder as he stood to leave. As soon as he had gone, you stood, too, aiming for outside somewhere. 

You headed immediately for the roof and stopped by the door, remembering that Namjoon had said this was probably where Yoongi was hiding. You had wanted air and five minutes’ peace, true, but five minutes with Yoongi would do better than that. You had you palm pressed against the door when an idea struck you. You fought your way back to the bar. 

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.  

You wondered if this was the manager or if he was even working that night. You looked at him closely; he had a nice enough face. Yoongi could do worse.  

“Can I have two of your most expensive drink, please?” 

“Cocktail or mixed drink? Or most expensive spirit? Or...?” 

“Uh, spirit?” 

“Sure... Do you want to know what that is?” 

You shrugged. 

“Whatever is fine, as long as it’s the most expensive.” 

“... Ok then.” 

You took the glasses back to the roof. You pushed open the door with your back and let out a little whistle as the cold, wet fog settled on your shoulders. You wished you had thought to bring your coat.  

It was a cute little rooftop. They had a pergola in one corner; you imagined it festooned with fairy lights and crowded with summer drinkers; in the barren winter, it seemed a little lonesome, bare and standing naked like a lost tree. The view, you knew, would have been spectacular if the night had been clear but you could still make out some of the brightest lights from the tallest buildings dimly through the gloam. The building next door and its upper floor intruded into the roof space and you wandered around it, coming upon Yoongi, sitting in a folding chair, as far from the rooftop door as he could get. 

“Hello, birthday boy. Found you.” 

The look of resignation on his face melted into a smile when he saw it was you.  

“Want some company?” you asked. 

“Yours? Sure.” 

Then he pulled out another folding chair and set it next to him. 

“Are you just magicking these out of thin air or something?”  

He grinned. 

“Nah, Doyoung left the store cupboard open for me.” 

“The manager? Apparently he has a thing for you.” 

You said it without really meaning to; it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. Yoongi looked surprised. 

“Really?” 

You tried to shrug casually. 

“Well, that’s what I heard. Supposedly you got a great rate on the free bar.” 

He laughed. 

“Well that’s the first I’ve heard of it. I’ll have to let him know.” 

“You’re going to need it,” you said, handing him a glass. “This is the most expensive drink they have.” 

Yoongi looked at you, searching, making sure, then he took the glass and shook his head with a tut. 

“Are you threatening me?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it; don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“And on my birthday and everything.” 

You sat in the chair, clinked your glass against his and, against all your better judgement, took a sip of the drink. It burnt, much like the very first drink Yoongi had ever given you had burnt, and you gagged then shuddered. Yoongi interpreted this as a shiver (you were also cold) and was immediately shrugging his jacket off.  

“Don’t do that!” you cried. 

“You’re cold.” 

“And so will you be if you take that off!” 

“I’ve got more on than you; I’ll be fine.” 

“No, I won’t have it.” 

You allowed the alcohol to speak for you, tugging his jacket from his right arm, shuffling yourself in impossibly close to him and pulling the right half of his jacket around you. You were practically in his lap, but he was warm and he smelt like fresh powder and spice, and you had had exactly the right amount to drink to allow this but not so much that you couldn’t appreciate that it was happening. Yoongi was stiff beside you for a moment or two, but you felt him slowly relax, the tension leaving him as he settled in.  

“Are you having fun at your party?” you asked, somewhat accusatory. 

“I am now.” 

“Yeah, didn’t really have you down as a big partier. You had me thinking I didn’t know you at all.” 

Yoongi shook his head. 

“I had my arm twisted.” 

There was a Yoongi pause, as familiar to you now as your own rhythms of speech.  

“When it came down to it,” he continued, “I knew that if I didn’t do something, they would take it upon themselves to do something and I knew I didn’t want to have to deal with whatever that would be. It was easier for me to do this in the end.” 

“And are they all your friends? Because you know I’m a loser, right? I have literally two friends and there are like, two hundred people in there.” 

He laughed again. 

“No. Some of them are. A lot of them are people from work who overheard or got wind of the plans somehow; some of them are people I don’t even know—friends of friends or whatever. I don’t know.” He turned to you suddenly, concerned. “No one’s given you any kind of trouble, have they?” 

“What? No, of course not!” 

“Good. I might not be a coke-snorting meathead but... the same cannot be said for everyone I work with and, unfortunately, plenty of them have made it tonight.” 

“Ah of course, your finance bros.” 

“They are not my bros. I don’t have ‘bros’.” 

“I’ll tell Jin and Yijeong you said that. They’ll be devastated.” 

Yoongi groaned but he was grinning, too, rolling his eyes with great affection. 

“Please tell me you haven’t been talking to them.” 

“Why shouldn’t I? Worried they’ll give out your state secrets?” 

“I think you’ve got all of my state secrets by now. They would just love every chance to embarrass me in front of you.” 

“That makes me feel truly honoured. I would love for you to be embarrassed in front of me. God knows I embarrass myself enough.” 

“No, you don’t,” he said, his voice gone soft. “You’re never embarrassing.” 

“I love you for saying that, but I hate you for lying to me.”  

“I’m in a pretty sticky situation then.” 

There was a pause. You continued to sip at your horrible drink and Yoongi continued to enjoy his. 

“How are your thirties treating you so far? Feel any different?” 

He shrugged and it made his jacket fall off your shoulder. You put it back and held it tight, leaning into the heat of Yoongi’s body next to you even further. You put your head on his shoulder and he just barely grazed your leg with the tips of his fingers.  

“Yeah, I do actually,” he answered eventually.  

“Good or bad?” 

“Good. I think my thirties are going to be good. Or I hope they will be. I think I’m going to try.” 

You felt like more was coming, so you let the silence fall again, luxuriating in your proximity to him and letting the high ABV of your awful drink continue to knock off all your edges, make you smooth and round and pliable.  

“I started therapy,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. Almost. 

“Oh my god!” 

You reared back so you could hug him fully, enveloping him completely and not letting go until he was tapping out.  

“Babe! I’m so fucking proud of you! That’s amazing!” 

He nodded, shy now, and took a sip of his drink. 

“That’s fucking huge, Yoongi. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to! I’m so excited! How is it?” 

He nodded again. 

“Good, I think?” 

“Do you like your therapist?” 

This answer came quickly. 

“No,” he said with a chuckle. “They ask too many questions.” 

You snorted. 

“Yeah, they do that.” 

“But I...”  

He was hesitating, unsure, and you were emboldened with booze so you slipped your hand into his and gave it a squeeze. He looked at you, face falling open to you, eyes wide, the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“I want to be happier,” he said and your heart could have burst. 

You rested your head back on his shoulder. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

He squeezed your hand back.  

“You can change therapists, by the way. If you really don’t like them. Or if something changes or you need something different. You can change. They don’t tell you that so I’m telling you. I’ve had like, five different ones at this point.” 

“Do you like your current one?” 

“Yeah.” 

“She helps?” 

“She really does.” 

You felt him nod. 

“Yeah, you said therapy helps and I thought maybe-… Maybe I can be helped.” 

If you’d had even one more drink, you would probably have cried. Because you had been there. You knew how scary it was to take a step to help yourself—no matter how good you knew it would be, how healthy, how helpful, how grateful you would be for it in the future—and you knew that Yoongi needed it; there are some things only a stranger can help you see. It made you so happy to think of him, Bad Day Yoongi, stuck on the sofa Yoongi, tired, sad, Daegu Yoongi looking towards the future, a future he wanted to be around for. All of the worry you’d been carrying around for him, that you hadn’t been fully aware of until this moment, was dissipating, leaving you giddy and excited and a little drunker than you had been before. 

You pulled back again and gave him another hug.  

“I'm so fucking happy for you.” 

“It’s hard.” 

“Oh yeah, it’s fucking shit sometimes, but it’ll be worth it.” 

You let him go and he tipped the last of his drink into his mouth—without grimacing, how? He leant over, readjusting his jacket on your shoulder and his face was so close to yours, you could smell the drink on his breath. Your eyes met and he didn’t move back and you didn’t want him to. You wanted him to close the gap, press forward just an inch or two and kiss you. You wondered what he would do if you kissed him. He wasn’t moving either. All he had to do was sit back, but he didn’t. Did he want it? Could you kiss him? Would h- 

“Yoongi!” 

You leapt apart as if electrified as Namjoon rounded the corner. He stopped when he saw you, mouth open, about to chastise Yoongi, no doubt, but no sound came out of him. You thought for a second that he would turn around and leave the two of you in peace.  

No such luck. 

“It’s cake time,” he said once his brain had caught up with his eyes. “Gotta come out of hiding.” 

Yoongi looked at you. You looked at Yoongi. Then he looked at Namjoon. 

“Alright, then,” he said with a sigh. “I’m coming.” 

* 

You all sang happy birthday and Yoongi blew out his candles and then was taken off somewhere by a group, led by Jin, crying something about ‘30 shots for 30 years’.  

You also drank. Copiously. The adrenaline of almost kissing Yoongi and then not kissing Yoongi had made you shake and you needed something to take those edges off. You returned to the cloakroom for your phone, because you had to tell someone and you didn’t want it to be Namjoon. When you unlocked it, you had four missed calls from Teddy and a series of increasingly impatient texts.  

[02:14]  Teddy 🐻: bitch, I am coming to get you whether you’re ready or not. I'm fucking tired and I want to hear everything before I go to sleep 

That was almost half an hour ago which meant he’d probably be showing up any minute now. You took your phone, and Yoongi’s presents (somewhat squished and not neatly wrapped), and went in search of him.  

You had to fight your way through a ring of merry makers and peel Yoongi off the bar. You hoped he hadn’t really had 30 shots because you were pretty sure that could kill a man. You couldn’t quite tell if he was actually seeing you; he squinted and winked and blinked and looked even more ready for bed than you felt. 

“Yoongi, I have to go!” 

“Huh?” 

“Teddy’s coming to pick me up. I’m leaving!” 

“Oh no!” 

He fell off his chair and was uprighted by a friend behind him. 

“I’ll walk you out,” he mumbled, placing a tight grip on your arm as you staggered together towards the door.  

“Happy birthday, baby,” you said, pulling him in for another hug. 

You swayed and Yoongi’s weight was heavy on you and your stomach swooped (in a way that didn‘t not make you feel a little bit sick). You didn‘t want to let him go. 

“I love you the most,” you said, as quietly as you could manage in the clamour of the bar. 

He chuckled. 

“I love you the most.”  

The urge struck you, again, at that moment, to kiss him, just do it, get it over with, make something happen but as soon as it appeared, it was gone. You stepped back and remembered the present in your hands. 

“Oh! Here.” You shoved it into his hands. “I got you something.” 

“A present?” 

“Yeah! A present.” 

“I said to not to to get me something,” he mumbled, trying to stand still and trying to focus on the gift in front of him, trying not to spew when he flicked his gaze back to you. 

“Did it anyway.” You shrugged. “Don’t open it here, though. When you get home.” 

He saluted you and you snorted with laughter. Your phone was vibrating in your hand, no doubt a chivvying call from Taehyung, so you turned and walked to the door with a final wave. 

“Wait!” 

Yoongi stumbled closer to you. 

“By the way,” he began and then he paused for so long, you weren’t sure he even remembered he had been speaking. “You are...” He was looking at you searchingly and you imagined it was the concentration it was taking to keep you in focus. “You’re the most beautiful person I've ever seen right now.” 

A bubble rose to the surface of your heart and popped with a quiet ‘oh’. You had been hoping he would notice the dress. He liked the dress. That was good. 

“Really?” 

“You’re so-” he waved a hand and squinted into the air, looking for the right word. “Sexy... Yeah, sexy.”  

He pointed at you and nodded once, firmly. You felt your whole body heat and a shy giggle trip off your lips. You wiggled your hips, sublimating your shyness and embarrassment with silliness. He wiggled back at you.  

The door, which you had one hand on and were slightly leaning against, was pulled open and you fell with your full, drunken weight backwards on the person who’d opened it. 

“Teddy!”  

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he said under his breath as he heaved you back to your feet. “Happy birthday,” he called to Yoongi as he dragged you, finally, through the door and out into the street. Yoongi waved. 

“How fucking drunk are you? I thought Yoongi didn’t like parties; how are you this drunk?” 

“We almost kissed!” you told him in a stage-whisper while he folded you into a taxi. 

“Almost?” 

“Yeah, only almost.”  

“This is very disappointing.” 

“I know.” 

You yawned widely and threw your legs over his lap, cuddling into him. 

“No sleeping, pretty girl. Not until we’re home.” 

“Yeah, ok,” you replied, eyes already closed.  

When you woke late the next morning, you had a selection of texts from Yoongi. The first was a photo of your presents.  

You had intended to crochet him a mini-Cherry. You had done a little crochet when you were at university; a friend had taught you and you briefly caught the bug for it but that was years ago and you had had to go out and buy absolutely everything new and then waste hours of time watching youtube tutorials on how to do it.  

They didn’t help and it hadn't gone well. To say the least. She was definitely a something, but a cat? You weren’t convinced. You had been so desperate in the end for something to present to him that you had asked your director, whom you knew was very crafty, to do one for you. Her version had been perfect. 

You gave him both. You wanted him to have the ‘thought that counts’ one, the one you had put the effort into, but you also wanted him to have one that did not look like total shit.  

In the photo, they lay side by side.  

[05:07]  Yoongi: Cherrrry? 

[05:07]  Yoongi: d you make then? 

[05:08]  Yoongi: this s my favutrite 

It was a photo of your shit cat.  

[05:09]  Yoongi: I lvoe then 

You had hoped that he would have opened them and laughed at your attempt, laughed but done it kindly, teasingly, with a fondness that made you heart glow. You had wanted him to open them in front of you so that he could have smiled at you and you could have kidded yourself that he understood all the things you were trying to tell him but couldn’t yet say. There was no way he could have, though, not in the state he had been in.  

“Yeah,” Taehyung had said when you repeated this to him later. “Which is why, instead of giving him cryptic crocheted messages, you should actually just tell him.” 

But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Not yet.  

Taglist: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @quarter-life-crisis2, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads , @xyahrinx , @olyd , @diorh0seokie , @thelilbutifulthings  

Chapter Nine | Masterlist | Chapter Eleven

[loadingbraincells]

my whole dash rn

“ofmd just got cancelled, throwing myself out window”

“guys, ouizzy can still be canon HERE ME OUT-“

*good omens angst art* just felt a lil goofy xp

“Doctor who is gay!/pos”

“Doctor who is gay?!/neg”

“Upate: your streamer still isn’t streaming”

“tensimm”

[bengiyo]

Theory of Love Rewatch Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

This rewatch is sponsored by @lurkingshan. Shan has the rare honor of being the only straight white person to respect my tastes in the last 15 years and successfully convince me to watch two things that I went on to enjoy immensely. She convinced me to try Coffee Prince when I was willing to engage with kdrama and pushed me over the episode 10 slump. She also convinced me to watch the Pornographer series again, which I found essential. I've given her coupons to use to recommend things to me, and she's chosen to make me reengage with Theory of Love.

I didn't walk away from this show feeling great about it or myself in 2019. I identified with Third a lot, and also hated their entire friend group. I also thought Earth and White went to waste in BL again (I watched Water Boyy the series). So we're going into this on shaky ground. I kindly ask that you not argue with me in my notes about why you love this show.

Let's get started.

Right away I am reminded that I am not immune to Gun Atthaphan mooning over classic romance films that his character has protected way too much into.

Khai choosing to not mess around with folks in his faculty is a pretty good boundary for a player.

So, it's not Khai's fault that Third fell in love with him. Still, I understand the stress and angst of crushing on a straight boy who loves you platonically. Coming out is not easy, especially when you're one of the boys.

Okay, Third pouring a bottle of water over his head to be dramatic is too much. He is unwell.

Gun having second billing on this show is homophobic.

Ep 01: Best Friends

I wonder if Gun wants to produce and direct.

That line about having hundreds of girls if not for Khai feels kinda funny. Like are you gay, sir?

Goddamn this GETSUNOVA song still fucking slaps.

I forgot how this seaweed snack kept the lights on through Bad Buddy.

12,000 baht to see Blackpink? Couldn't be me.

I don't feel bad for Third about these tickets. He said no to getting them, so Khai isn't a dick for getting them from a scalper.

This is extremely tacky of Khai to start shit at someone's screening like this.

They curb stomped Khai for that behavior. You love to see an instant comeuppance.

Okay, but sending Third to reject Milk is clearly his specialty.

I wanted to know what they said about the Toy Story trilogy, especially since Khai did a Vulcan salute.

Third has a Winnie the Pooh, Astro Boy, and Chucky doll in his room. I have questions.

Khai ditching Third on a lie isn't cool and also feels unnecessary since he canceled on Third for a girl earlier. Is it because it was Milk?

Okay, but Khai is also right that he didn't tell Third to throw her shit away.

Ah, Two finds him at the end of the episode to try and keep Third invested.

This show is very different for me in 2023, because now that I'm older I'm doing what I can. I'm not trapped in a spiral frustrated and pining after a guy I struggled to get over. My living situation is also different. There's also so much more BL better suited to my tastes. Me reading Gun a certain way doesn't cover for Third the way it did in 2019, so his bisexual angst about the girls he hasn't scored because of Khai doesn't track as sympathetic this time. I'm also struggling to see what holds Third to Khai. He's just like most dudes I know. Sometimes he's a good bro and recognizes your efforts when you do something he asked for, but they never notice what you do that they didn't ask for.

It'll be interesting continuing this watch, because I've never been an OffGun girlie, and now that I've projected my gay angst into other projects I feel less connected to Third. Now I'm just frustrated for him and also a little irritated.

[losersimonriley]

Major MWIII spoilers below the cut - My thoughts on playing the campaign, mostly through my ghoapper shipping lense bc let’s be real. That’s why I’m here in the first place. (pleasantly surprised babbling ahead)

I will say it’s not Terrible like we were making it out to be after the leaked streams. Imo. Knee jerk reactions and all that. For what it is, I actually really enjoyed it (except the open missions fuck them. Thought I would love em but NOPE.)

Adored Soap’s moments. They really said that man is a feral Scottie dog and should act more like it. He’s such a fuckin brat sat there in the passenger seat smacking on his gum. And in contrast Ghost just being Some Goofy Guy in a Mask. Adore that.

And the Ghostsoap moments! Is there as much content between them as mwii? No. There are A LOT of characters at play here, which I think is why scenes feel a bit more hollow than mwii. But damn the parts that do feature these gays? They are constantly sitting, standing next to each other, staring at each other in the background, using /that voice/ with each other, being an unhinged iconic duo. I didn’t hear Ghost call him Soap once—this man is handing out Johnny’s like candy on Halloween. And!! They’d known each other at least 4 years before mwii! Fancy that!

“Do you tan or burn, LT?” “An impeccable bronze, Johnny” GET A ROOM

Nik and Laswell’s mission was so good. Nik metalhead canon confirmed. Price’s love and friendship and concern for Kate is so precious

Price always has a headache and nausea he’s just like me fr. Gaz is such? A sweet angel honestly.

Pushing Makarov through the stadium as Soap was so cathartic knowing what was to come

The 141 feels more like a team in this one!

Farah fans got FED. She’s perfect. What a fuckin badass.

Aaaand of course Soap’s death. Playing it through myself, it felt MUCH less…horrid? Do I like that they fridged him after only a year? Absolutely not. There was so much potential there. Do I think that scene could’ve been a lot more dramatic and emotional? Hard yes. BUT. There were little things about it that my angst loving heart liked—the absolute heart wrenching way that “JOHNNY!” rips out of Ghost’s throat. You can see him heavy breathing and shaking his head no. He touches him, rolls him over. Doesn’t leave his side, doesn’t say anything if Price doesn’t move to defuse the bomb, doesn’t try to help in any way. He literally just stays sat there until everyone blows up, perfectly content to die and let everyone else die right along with Soap.

As for the cliff sendoff I would like to wipe that from my brain entirely thanks

Overall I’m glad I didn’t cancel my preorder like I’d thought about. Happy to have some new canon content to play with and simultaneously choose to ignore! Also zombies mode with Soap bossing me around here I come.

[sid471]

Okay, I’m gonna do this >_>

I wanna talk about Klance 😊 and this is my blog so I can do whatever I want 😊 Have I seen Voltron? No. Have I experienced Klance first hand? No. But I… have been on the internet. And that’s enough for me 😊

Again, I haven’t seen Voltron, I wanted to watch it but I never started it because just from like… being on the internet I heard how hard they fumbled with Klance and how poorly handled it was. And I know I shoulda watched to formulate my own opinion… but I couldn’t >_> I just- okay, I know that shippers can be crazy, and sometimes more than a little delusional. I’ve been there 🤷🏻‍♂️ but like… EVERYONE, from what I’ve seen, supported Klance .-. And Fandoms… NEVER unify like that. ESPECIALLY when it comes to shipping ._. And it’s not like Voltron was OPPOSED to queerness, they HAD a canon gay character .-. They even had said character get married and smooch his new husband on screen 😶

So like… what-what was the issue? ._. Circling back to ‘shippers are crazy’ 😊 Klance shippers apparently sent death threats to the creators. Which… obviously dumb, obviously don’t do that, obviously a big no no >_> makin us shippers look bad 😒 But did they not make Klance happen out of spite? 😶 Did they write those moments with a purely platonic bond in mind, but afterwards, like after it aired 😊, they were like ‘Uhhh… oops. That’s a little fruity 😶’ and if THAT was the case, after seeing that a romantic relationship between them would’ve been not only accepted by the fandom but a MASSIVE hit, why not just… lean into it and MAKE IT HAPPEN ._. The money prints itself, if nothing else .-. I’ve seen some clips and it’s giving ‘We kiss but it’s with socks on so it’s not gay 🤷🏻‍♂️. Huh? Oh yeah we’ve had sex, made love really. But it was with socks on. Not gay. Oh this? Yeah it’s a wedding band. But we said no homo before AND after we kissed passionately in front of our friends and family. So. Doesn’t count 🤷🏻‍♂️’ just… VERY in denial 😶

And like, a missed connection, or even like, mutual pining or one sided love thing even would’ve been fine. Just like… ACKNOWLEDGE it .-. Acknowledge that these two characters have INSANE chemistry ._. Have one of them be like ‘I have feelings for him but I can’t act on them because of the war and the uncertainty of life and blah blah blah’ Angst! Gays LOVE angst ._. But no, no, instead… they stick one of them, idk which one >_>, with a girl, who, granted, they HAD established had a thing. But like… it felt like… ‘Haha take that. That’ll teach you <_<’ rather than a genuine… relationship .-. Again, just from what I’ve seen/heard.

And if they were worried about the series being canceled… Cowards ._. I’m sorry but that’s cowardly >_> She Ra only got one season BECAUSE the producers were determined to make Catradora happen no matter what. They made a promise and they fulfilled it at the cost of a longer run. And She Ra, in my opinion, doesn’t FEEL unfinished. It FEELS like a complete series y’know?

[h-doodles]

oh, so many ideas so little energy and time,,, so ummmmm authors feel free to take a spin if you find something u like <3!!!!

---

1.) inspired by Loving you is beautiful (darkfic) by @rippersz — wherein reader learns to enjoy Larissa's red flags rather than slowly wilt from the distinct skewed version of love :)

Excerpt:

You've been hurt by the world.

Pain is the only thing you remember, ever since you were young. Always remembered a yearning hunger deep inside your heart. Wishing to be loved, to be saved by someone.

But humans were monsters— it wasn't until you've found yourself on the gates of the so called Monsters' precious academy that you've found what seemed to be the shelter from the storm that is your life; found the answer to your prayers.

Found her.

Your savior, your goddess, your beloved.

You won't lie, trusting such a vision was a bit hard to bear, because to be so lucky was not in your nature. But oh, Larissa is so tender, is so sweet, is so caring, and is ever so patient— to stay by your side, equal parts loving and protecting you from harm. You feel a little silly now, asking all those questions then, about her kind; of how outcasts like her lived.

Isn't it such an irony, that it took you finding 'monsters', to find humanity?

Well. Well.

--and thats all ive got for it rn lol--

2.) ICE SKATER AU or wherein reader was a former ice skater but has since been retired, and is a part of their past they'd just occasionally brush off for stress relief. Can either be a new teacher for Nevermore or the new barista in town, who gets pestered to sign up by their former partner & still best friend (also a new hiree crushing majorly on one Coach Vlad :]) to a local skating contest. They didn't initially plan to, but after overhearing that a certain principal was interested in seeing the performances, well... local disaster gay brushes off the dust off their skates ;3

"You. Me. The lake, with your skates. NOW."

"Woah woah woah Y/N, hold on a moment. I thought we were going to the booth to cancel—" Elijah says, but I whap him with a rolled up newspaper.

"Well, that was BEFORE I learned SHE was looking forward to watching the event." I start. "And since we both know I am a small, disaster gay with 0 rizz and speaking skills, THIS is my chance to get her attention! It's brilliant! It's foolproof! She'll never see it coming!"

"Who'll never see it coming?" Coach Vlad pops up half dressed behind Eli, and I blink.

"Hold up, are you guys—"

"Yes." "N-Um." The two men look towards each other, before looking back at me. Eli mouths a yes.

"I cannot believe YOUR fucking luck!"

Bestie in Christ I WISH I had the luck, skills, AND charisma of THIS manwhore of a bestie-slash-longtime-skating-partner I have. Maybe then I COULD grab a whole fucking date with one Principal Larissa Weems. Is it too much to ask???

3.) academy time! Morticia/Larissa/Reader or where before everything went downhill, three girls had a secret worth keeping. bc i need the "and they were roommates + they're galpals <3" soooo bad

4.) 5 times they kissed + the 1 time they didnt FLUFF & then major angst >:) bc i love me a relationship establishment fic and then the worst pain imaginable to man aka Wifey death /// or if more fluff, just 5 dates and 1 wedding (BUT OFC THEY HAVE MORE DATES) :)

5.) Sleepy reader being a clingy mess and touch starved Larissa sooooo torn between having to get ready for the day vs staying in bed for 5 more minutes just to savor r's presence :')

---

...and then the NSF ones

6.) Reader is being more of a brat than usual so Larissa punishes them the next day by making them wear a remote controlled toy for the WHOLE day & getting teased at the most inopportune times but they are not allowed to cum >:)))

7.) OH GOD TRADE OFF where usual brat reader has been a V good girl™ for some time and in turn Larissa allows them one (1) wish...... and R picks revenge by having mommy wear the accursed toy and being teased 👉🏻👈🏻

8.) R making Larissa jealous soooo bad they need to be taught a lesson, marked & properly bred to appease the green eyed demon in Larissa's mind :) :) :) (and it works out bc R has been. entertaining v v filthy breeding kink thoughts oop)

9.) R has quite the closet of costumes and they find a cat maid cosplay 👉🏻👈🏻 practicing their meows and nyas and being all cute not knowing Mommy's been watching from the door the moment they started meowing

10.) oblivious reader unknowingly teasing Larissa all day and the woman is abt to FUCKING burst in horny except oh no???? reader was not oblivious and this has been part 7 of the 10 step plan to get Larissa as her gf >:))))))

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

tell me to leave (ill pack my bags then baby ill go)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51777712 by forevernightfall Harley Keener is finally out of school for summer break. The original plan had been to hang with his friends and family for a week, then fly to New York to see his mechanic. Plans change though (Tony canceled because he's “busy”.. No, it doesn't hurt), and suddenly he's left floundering with nothing to do. Then, his friends propose a road trip. What could possibly go wrong? Did someone knock on wood? _________ or, the obligatory harley centric road trip fic (im starting a new trend.) Words: 4226, Chapters: 1/11, Language: English Series: Part 2 of drunk kiss 'verse Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Multi Characters: Harley Keener, Abbie Keener, Evelyn Keener, Quinten Young, Marlaena Davis, Gwendolyn Gray, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Pepper Potts, Stephen Strange Relationships: Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Harley Keener & Abbie Keener & Evelyn Keener, Marlaena Davis & Gwendolyn Gray & Harley Keener & Quinten Young, Marlaena Davis/Abbie Keener, past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark - Relationship Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Happy Ending, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Gay Harley Keener, Harley Keener-centric, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Favoritism, Miscommunication, Sad parts, eventual angst, Eventual violence, mostly happy, GLEN THE FIREFLY read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51777712

[sounds-of-some-day]

Yup. Fans need to pay for a subscription if they want to support these shows. I got an AMC+ subscription because I watch IWTV and Gangs of London.

I wanted to make a post in general about the overall advocacy of piracy, but I am a tiny blog and no one cares about what I think.

But, with respect to this specific show, I will share some thoughts.

I see a lot of people angsting about "What if AMC makes the series run too long, like they did with Walking Dead, and the quality declines?"

and like, y'all, seriously, this should not be your concern right now. TVC are not The Walking Dead, and they were never going to be. I know there's this rumor going around that AMC bought this property as a replacement for The Walking Dead, and I don't know where that comes from, if it's just wishful thinking, or if someone connected to the show or AMC somehow hinted at that, but I seriously hope that it's not the second option, and that AMC is not expecting Walking Dead numbers from IWTV, because that would be really naïve to say the least and I would hope the people in charge of these things have better sense.

During it's peak, The Walking Dead was pulling in 17 million viewers per episode. It was the number one show on cable television. Not just the number one show on AMC - the number one show out of all of the cable networks. Even at it's worst, it was getting 3 million viewers per episode.

The best I can tell for IWTV is that it is averaging less than 0.5 million viewers per episode.

To put this into perspective, Fear the Walking Dead averaged 0.8 million viewers in its last season and it's on cancellation watch.

Here's from cancellation watch after the premiere of IWTV:

"On Sunday, AMC’s heavily promoted Interview With The Vampire–based on the Anne Rice novels–had its premiere but only managed a 0.15 rating based on same-day viewing for the 18-49 demographic with 622K total viewers.  Those are not terrible numbers, but that is also not a great start for a shiny new franchise that received a notable marketing push prior to its debut.  It was also available on AMC+ the same day (along with the second episode), though, so the digital viewing should give it an additional push."

And the thing is, there was a 40% decline in viewership after the first episode. Why? Well....honestly, most likely because of the gay sex. IWTV was never going to be TWD because it is openly, unabashedly, LGBT. And that is going to turn off a lot of the general viewing public. I'm sorry, but it's true. I wish we lived in a world where that was not the case, but we don't.

So if you want more LGBT media like IWTV, you have to support it. And that means supporting it financially if you can. Look, AMC+ is what? $8.99/month? Ideally you'd continue your subscription, but even if you cancel it after the show airs, you still showed AMC that there is interest in this specific show that generates revenue, and it only cost you less than $20. Are you not willing to put $20 into getting more IWTV??

I know not everyone can, because they live where AMC+ isn't available, or maybe you are truly flat broke, but if you can support the show, man, you gotta do it. Because anything past season two is NOT guaranteed, and we all want to see Sam Reid as Lestat in his rock star era.

So, please, I'm begging you.

And also, the other show in this franchise? The Mayfair Witches? Man, that show is facing an uphill battle because there is zero hype about that show right now and it airs in a little over a month.

Anyway, this got long, so I'll leave it here. But please support this show. And as for how you can do that between now and season two? Keep the hype up. Create fan content. Talk to people about the show. Hype the ever loving shit out if. Cause the one thing IWTV has going for it right now is that the critical reviews have been incredible. That doesn't mean anything without ratings, but it definitely helps.