#project management triangle

[stevensavage]

When Good Things Are Bad Ideas

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve's Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

In Project Management there’s something called the Iron Triangle or the Project Management Triangle.  A project has to balance between Time, Scope, and Cost to keep up quality.  You can have two the way you want at best, but the third will become unpredictable, unlimitable, or you’ll have to accept some serious changes.

If you want things done your way on time, get ready for it to cost more.  If you want something at a set cost and scope, get ready for time to get a might out of control.  If you want things on time and for a set cost, get ready to reduce your scope.  Play too fast and loose and things will fall apart.

We’re taught that doing things Fast (time), Accurately (Scope), and Cheap (cost).  But those things aren’t always good and can’t always be done together.  We Project Managers remind people of this again and again, often with “I told you so.”

Which leads me to our current crisis in social media where everything is, well, rather dumb.  I have no idea where the hell Twitter is actually going.  Facebook keeps trying new things, but the core experience is kinda ad-filled and unpleasant.  There’s not a lot of innovation out there, and it’s becoming more and more clear we’re the product.

But when you think of the Iron Triangle it all makes sense.  Social Media companies want to have it all ways – making money (cost) do everything to keep people and advertisers (scope) and do it all fast (time).  As people like me constantly remind folks you cannot do this.

Sometimes cheap, effective, and fast are bad ideas.  My job – my own habits – lead me to wanting to be cheap, effective, and fast and I know they’re not always good.

Social media is “free” but the money has to come from somewhere and people invested in it want to make money.  This means the enshitification we’ve seen is near inevitable.  People don’t want to pay, advertisers aren’t always happy, and executives want to make the big bucks.  That may not be sustainable.

Cost is a problem in social media (and that cost isn’t always money).

Social media has to provide some service but there aren’t a lot of new ideas (look at all the Twitter clones), and way too much seems to be well we got used to it.  I’m suspicious that a lot of social media we love now is habit not it’s stuff we actually need.  Throw in companies trying to do everything or anything regardless if it can work or people want it?

What’s the scope for social media?  Hell, who’s the real customer?  The users aren’t exactly unless you charge appropriately and that brings in the cost problem.

Finally, sure social media is efficient in some ways – you do a lot, fast, in a unified interface.  Sure technology lets us deliver features fast.  But is fast good?  Who needs new features we don’t care about?  Is it really vital we be able to reply immediately to someone’s movie opinions?  So we need to do everything from one app that’s also potentially vulnerable?

What’s the real timeframe we need with our social media – if we need social media as we know it now?

Social Media has walked face-first into the Iron Triangle which would normally collapse projects and businesses.  But they got enough of a footprint, did enough right at first that they can keep going, maybe forever.  But at best right now a lot of them are a mix of pet projects and money extraction machines, and maybe lawsuit fodder.

Some of us might even get to say “I told you so.”  Well, more than we have.

Steven Savage

www.StevenSavage.com

www.InformoTron.com

[tj-crochets]

I havent been here for the quilting saga, very cool that you're done your squares, what were you going for with this quilt? Like what were ur quilt goals, why did u choose those fabrics? Is it meaningful or all just stuff you like?

This latest quilt is my scrap quilt, which means it's entirely made of fabric scraps from previous quilts I've made. Well, mostly from quilts I've made, plus one bag's worth of scrap fabric from a local quilt shop, plus a few scraps from various peoples' destashes I've been given over the years? So there wasn't really an overarching goal, per se, except to use up fabric scraps because I couldn't bring myself to throw them away but didn't have enough of any one color palette to make a cohesive quilt top. I put zero thought or effort into color distribution except to try to keep different pieces of the same fabric from touching each other, and I had a few very dark fabrics that stand out against my usual "everything is as bright as possible" color choices so I made sure those were distributed evenly across the quilt. As for the quilt pattern itself, it's made of two kinds of 12" blocks. Block A is made of six rows of 2.5" strips. I made them by sewing my 2.5" strips into a very long single piece of fabric and then cutting that into 12.5" by 2.5" rectangles, then sewing those together Block B is basically a 4 patch block, but the upper right and lower left squares are made of smaller 4 patch blocks. So it's two 6.5" squares and eight 3.5" squares per Block B. I chose those sizes because they were small enough to be easy to cut even out of small scraps and scaled well with each other to make a pattern I would not get bored sewing. Every few weeks I'd collect my fabric scraps, iron them, cut them down to those sizes and put them in the scrap quilt drawer until I had enough to make the quilt top I'm working on now

[akanshasharma123]

Navigating PMP Renewal: Sailing Smoothly Through the Recertification Water”

Embark on a journey to ensure the longevity of your Project Management Professional (PMP) certification with "Navigating PMP Renewal: Sailing Smoothly Through the Recertification Water." This resource is your compass through the intricacies of maintaining and enhancing your PMP credential

[bee-the-loser-recs]

☼ My Soobin One-shot Fic Recs ☼

𖤓 Feelings for you By @txt-trash 19.3k, roommates au, Soobin has a shitty ex, strangers to friends to lovers, hesitant to date at first, fluff, smut, barista Soobin, college graduates, one instant of fake dating

𖤓 Friendly desires By @txt-trash 8.8k, college au, friends to lovers, jealousy, kind of himbo Soobin, flirting, smut, fluff, helping one another get with someone else, accidently falling for each other

𖤓 Alice in Wonderland By @acidsoju 21.1k, basically an Enchanted au, Prince Soobin, fantasy au, royalty au, multidimensional au, Prince Soobin in the modern world, fluff, angst, falling in love, "doomed relationship", slow burn, best friend Yeonjun

𖤓 Lost in Neverland By @acidsoju 22.7k, part 2 to Alice in Wonderland, fantasy au, royalty au, multidimensional au, waking up in Soobin's dimension, fluff, angst, romance, love triangle, mage Beomgyu, second lead syndrome, slow burn

𖤓 Muse [part 1] & [part 2] By @acidsoju 4.9k, college au, smut, poetry major!Soobin x art major!reader, alcohol, struggling to find motivation/inspiration, slight fluff, friends TXT, art major!Kai, helping one another

𖤓 Loser By @acidsoju 4.6k, college au, project partners, fluff, smitten Soobin, slice of life, romance, kind of loser Soobin, alcohol, pining

𖤓 Class Prez By @acidsoju 4.4k, high school seniors, enemies to ??, class president!Soobin, troublemaker!reader, smut, fuck buddies?

𖤓 When your lips touch mine By @wonustars 4.2k, college au, friends? to lovers, classmates, meeting after being stood up, cheering up, smut, slight fluff, undeniable attraction, kind of obsessed with one another, friend Yeonjun

𖤓 Random texts w/ Bf!Soobin By @saursoob SMAU, established relationship, fluff, slight sexual innuendoes, humour

𖤓 Level up By @iicehoon Streamer Soobin, established relationship, they both play videogames, cute relationship, fluff, being on stream

𖤓 Home By @tubatwo 1.2k, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, jealousy, silly flirting from friends!TXT

𖤓 When you forget to switch accounts By @bowlofsoob SMAU, Spotify media manager!reader, accidents, forgetting to switch accounts, fangirling, flirting, meet cutes, cute relationship, sexual innuendoes

𖤓 Awakened desires [part 1] & [part 2] By @lexawoah13 Non-specified au, likely non-idol au, friends to lovers, smut, slight fluff, discussions of relationships, drunk moments

𖤓 Our little darling By @sophvilla Yeonjun x reader x Soobin, unspecified au, bf Yeonjun, best friend Soobin, smut, threesome

𖤓 Truth or drink! Engaged edition By @beom-pyu Part of a series, based on YouTube videos, answering questions, truth or drink game, fluff, suggestive comments

𖤓 Texts with bf!Soobin By @blue-jisungs SMAU, fluff, established relationship, slight suggestiveness, cuteness

𖤓 Lather By @jjunieworld 2.5k, smut, rich playboy!Soobin, strangers to hook-ups??, charity events, raising money, sexual innuendos, other girl idles as friends, bikini outfits

𖤓 Inexperienced!reader x soft dom!Soobin By @txtistheloml Established relationship, straight up smut, pwp, idea of corruption

[rispwr]

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 2

pairings : fuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn, enemies to lovers

contents/warnings : rich! oc, nepo! oc, fuckboy! jk, rich! jk, slight love triangle, smut, spoiled! oc, jk, big c! jk, fingering, semi-public xxx

taglist : comment if yall wanna be added

context : Jungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

two or three part series

It had been a week and a half since the group project began, and we only had two days left before we were supposed to present. I couldn't believe how fast the deadline was approaching. Surprisingly, Jungkook and I had managed to get along a little better in the past few days, although our relationship was still complicated. There was definitely more tension between us—lots of bickering over small details in the project, but there was also something else. A weird undercurrent of sexual tension seemed to creep into our interactions, though I tried to ignore it as much as possible.

We were in class, and the professor was droning on about something I wasn't paying much attention to. My mind wandered, thinking about how we were going to pull everything together in just two days. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate in my lap. Curious, I glanced down at my screen under the table to see who had texted me. It was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hey, princess. Got any plans after class?

I rolled my eyes, my lips curling into a small smirk. Of course, he couldn't just ask normally. I typed a quick response.

Y/N: Not unless you're counting trying to save our sorry excuse for a project.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: Touché. How about we finish it at my place? You, me... Namjoon. Group work, you know?

Y/N: Why at your place?

Jungkook: Because my place is more fun. And I can make you a proper coffee. You know you want to.

Y/N: Fine. But this better be about the project and nothing else.

Jungkook: Can't promise that ;) See you after class.

I shook my head at his winking emoji but couldn't deny the tiny thrill that ran through me. Whether it was the impending deadline or something else, the air between Jungkook and me had been charged with an underlying tension lately. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it was becoming harder to brush off.

Once we settled in Jungkook's place, the tension between us was unbearable. It had been building for days, and now, in the quiet of his living room, it felt like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn't take back.

Jungkook sat next to me on the couch, his casual demeanor masking the intensity in the air. I opened my laptop, pretending to focus on the project, but my mind was far from it. I could feel his eyes on me, and when his hand casually drifted to rest on my thigh again, I froze.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, like he wasn't fully paying attention to his own words but to the way my body tensed at his touch.

I forced myself to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "wow. you suddenly care about my wellbeing now?"

He smirked, that familiar cocky grin that always seemed to piss me off. "What? Can't a guy ask a simple question?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my gaze back to the screen. "Yeah, I ate. Did you?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, not removing his hand, his fingers starting to gently trace little patterns on my thigh. "Just making sure you're not starving before we start working."

I bit my lip, trying to focus, but every nerve in my body was screaming at me to pay attention to his touch. His fingers were moving now, grazing my skin in slow, deliberate strokes, each one lighting a fire in my core.

I couldn't take it anymore. 

The tension, 

his hand, 

his stupid smirk

—it was all too much. I turned to face him, my chest rising and falling with barely concealed frustration. Before I could think about what I was doing, 

I grabbed his face and crashed my lips onto his.

The kiss was messy,

 desperate, fueled by all the frustration and tension that had been boiling over between us for weeks. He responded immediately, his hand tightening on my thigh, pulling me closer as he kissed me back just as fiercely. His other hand tangled in my hair, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered except the way his lips moved against mine.

In between the kiss, he pulled back just a fraction, enough to murmur, "Thought you hated me."

I barely registered his words, my breath coming in short, heavy pants. "I do," I whispered, my voice a mix of defiance and something else. "I think."

Jungkook chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my lips as he leaned back in, his hand now traveling up my side, slipping under my shirt. His touch was slow, teasing, as if he was testing just how far he could push before I stopped him. But I didn't stop him. I couldn't. The warmth of his palm against my skin sent shivers through my entire body, and I leaned into him, craving more.

His lips were on mine again, but this time, the kiss was deeper, slower, like we were savoring every second of this moment. His hand moved higher, grazing the edge of my bra, and I let out a quiet whimper, the sound muffled against his mouth.

"Still think you hate me?" he teased between kisses, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth, trailing down to my jaw.

I tried to answer, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess, lost in the haze of his touch and the overwhelming heat building inside me. Instead, all I could manage was a shaky, "Shut up."

Jungkook grinned against my skin, his breath hot against my neck as his hand slipped further under my shirt, his fingers ghosting over my breast. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and full of that damn cockiness, "I'm not even doing anything, and you're already..... horny?."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control, but the way his hand felt on me, the way his lips moved against my skin, it was impossible to think straight. I opened my mouth to say something, to tell him to stop...or maybe to tell him not to stop, but before I could, 

I heard the sound of the door opening.

Panic shot through me, and I jerked away from him, pulling my shirt back down and scrambling to sit up straight. Namjoon had just walked in, completely oblivious to the tension that had just filled the room.

Jungkook, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. He stayed where he was, leaning back casually with a smug grin on his face, like he was savoring the fact that he had completely undone me in a matter of minutes. He rubbed his lips with his thumb, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched me try to pull myself together.

Namjoon, blissfully unaware of what he'd just interrupted, smiled and waved as he set his bag down. "Hey, sorry I'm late."

"Uh, it's fine," I mumbled, still feeling the heat in my cheeks as I avoided Jungkook's gaze. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened—or what almost happened.

Jungkook finally sat up, stretching lazily as he glanced at Namjoon. "We were just getting started," he said, his tone casual, though the smirk on his face told me he was still very much enjoying the moment.

Namjoon nodded, pulling out his laptop. "Cool, let's get to work then."

I shot a glare at Jungkook, who only grinned wider, clearly reveling in the fact that I was still flustered. And as much as I wanted to punch him, I couldn't deny the way my body still buzzed from his touch.

This was going to be a long night.

As the three of us sat around Jungkook's living room table, trying to focus on the project, I couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between us. My mind kept drifting back to the kiss, the way his hands felt on me, and it didn't help that Jungkook kept sending me these playful glances when Namjoon wasn't looking.

We were supposed to be reviewing some notes Namjoon had brought, but my attention was elsewhere. Namjoon was talking animatedly about his ideas, while I pretended to follow along, nodding occasionally. Meanwhile, Jungkook, who sat way too close for comfort on my other side, started to shift, his knee brushing against mine under the table.

I froze for a second, my heart racing, but I didn't move. I didn't pull away. Instead, I shot him a quick look out of the corner of my eye. He glanced back, smirking, and then, without warning, his hand slipped under the table and onto my thigh again.

This time, though, it wasn't innocent.

His fingers began to creep higher, just brushing the hem of my skirt. I tensed up, glancing at Namjoon, who was completely focused on the work in front of him. Jungkook's hand continued its slow, deliberate journey under my skirt, and I couldn't help the way my breath hitched.

I should've stopped him. I should've pushed his hand away, but I didn't. My body reacted on its own, allowing him to continue as my heart pounded in my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy as Namjoon droned on about the project.

Jungkook's fingers slowly rubbed my clothed clit, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress a gasp. I shifted slightly in my seat, hoping Namjoon wouldn't notice. Jungkook, of course, noticed everything. He leaned in just a little closer, whispering softly, "You okay?"

I shot him a glare, though it lacked any real conviction. He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the fact that I was letting him get away with this. His hand traveled higher, pushing my panties to the side enough for him to enter. 

i then let out a slight whimper catching their attention. jungkook smirking as he inserts another finger into me "are you okay y/n?" namjoon asks concerned about me "a-ahh no no..haha i-i stubbed my toe" i tried to reply as i was unable to talk normally. the pleasure was too good. 

now i know why girls love to throw themselves at jungkook

i held onto jungkooks shirt tightening my grip as i felt my orgasm being near. jungkook sensed it as my walls then starts to tighten around his fingers, he then fastened his pace, making my heart race faster. he then looks at me as i struggle, biting my lips trying not to make any sounds but my legs were shaking. 

i finally came. my white liquid coating his fingers as he pulls out making a 'plop' sound. 

i breathed heavily trying to pull myself together as i lick my lips, turning to jungkook watching him as he licks his fingers, cleaning my cum that was on his fingers.

once we were done with our study session Namjoon stood up to leave, an awkward silence settled in the room for a brief second. He gathered his things, explaining something about a school board meeting that he couldn't miss. I nodded along, thankful for the distraction from the tension that had been building between Jungkook and me for the past hour. Jungkook, on the other hand, remained calm, though I could sense the playful energy still simmering beneath the surface.

Namjoon finally said his goodbyes and left, closing the door behind him. The silence between Jungkook and me felt thick, heavy with the weight of everything we weren't saying. I didn't dare look at him at first, knowing that the second I did, we wouldn't be able to hold back any longer.

i then got up from the couch as i got on his lap, ruffling and playing with his hair. i tilt my head keeping eye contact with him giving him a smile as his hands starts travelling it's way to undo my bra until my phone suddenly rang distrupting our moment. 

i got up to get my phone and it's hoseok. 

i answered the call but jungkook took it 

"hey y/n where are you?" hoseok asks concerned as it has already been past 6 pm.

"she's with her boyfriend" jungkook answers making me shook my head in panic as i try to get my phone from him "what the fuck jungkook!" i got up on him trying to get the phone as i heard hoseok mutter "what the fuck is happening" on the phone. "kiss first" jungkook points at his lips hinting me to kiss him. 

and without hesitation i kissed him. i pull away looking at him in the eye as i spoke softly "can i get my phone now?" "say please" he replies making me annoyed. "can i please get my phone now?" i answered him as he slowly gave me the phone giving a cocky grin.

i yanked the phone from him a little bit harsh but i was already annoyed. 

"hey hoseok? i'm sorry that was jungkook" i said  awkwardly

"i was right then?" he asks 

"huh?"

"you like him do youuu??" he teases 

"hell nah what the fuck" i shook my head

jungkook then interrupts and yell on the phone "says the girl who kissed me and wanted to make out with me!" i hit jungkooks shoulder playfully as hoseok on the phone "omygod!! jimin and jin has to know about this bye!!" 

"wait hoseok no-" before i could speak hoseok ends the call.

"what the fuck?" i said to him annoyed 

"sorryyy princess" he gives me a peck on the cheek and points at his hard bulge

"i made you cum and i didn't get to cum" he pouts 

"my precious pussy doesn't deserve a cock that goes in other pussies that we don't even know it clean. maybe stop fucking other girls and i'll let you, hm?" i cup his face as i answered softly 

i then sat down on the couch to relax, closing my eyes, i couldn't stop thinking about what had happened today with jungkook.

After everything that happened, Jungkook broke the silence with a smirk, his usual confidence returning. "Let me take you home," he offered, tilting his head towards the door. "You know, on my bike."

"Sure," I said, keeping my voice steady, though internally I was anything but calm.

As we walked out of his house and towards his bike, I could feel the unspoken tension between us, a silent reminder of the unresolved tension lingering in the air. Jungkook handed me a helmet, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary before he turned his attention back to the bike.

"You sure you trust me on this thing?" he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he adjusted his helmet.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile crept onto my face despite myself. "Just don't kill me, Jeon," I said, slipping the helmet on.

Jungkook chuckled before straddling the bike. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, patting the seat behind him. "Hop on."

I hesitated for a second before sliding onto the seat behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The moment my body pressed against his back, I could feel the firm muscles under his shirt, the warmth radiating from him. I mentally cursed myself for feeling flustered by something as simple as a bike ride, but there was no denying the electricity that sparked between us. The memory of his hands on me, his lips, kept flashing in my mind. God, what had happened to me?

As soon as the engine revved to life, the city streets blurred past us, and I tightened my grip on Jungkook. The wind whipped around us, the cool night air contrasting with the warmth of his body. My chest was pressed firmly against him, my heart pounding in my ears, and I couldn't help but bury my face into his back. Being this close to him, especially after everything that had just happened, made it hard to think straight.

The ride home was both exhilarating and maddening. Every second, I was hyper-aware of how close we were, the subtle movements of his body as he steered the bike, the way my arms tightened around him with every turn. I had never ridden on a motorcycle before, and the adrenaline only added to the charged atmosphere. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me didn't want the ride to end.

But all too soon, we pulled up in front of my house. Jungkook parked the bike, cutting the engine, and I reluctantly let go of him, sliding off the seat. My legs were a little unsteady, whether from the ride or the emotions swirling inside me, I wasn't sure. I pulled off the helmet, my fingers brushing through my hair as I handed it back to him.

As soon as Jungkook and I stepped through the front door, my mom, ever the gracious host, immediately beamed at Jungkook, practically pulling him inside with an invitation to stay for tea. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable barrage of questions from her, but before I could even process that, I heard the familiar voice of my best friend, Hoseok, from the living room.

"Y/N! Guess what? I found—oh..." Hoseok's words trailed off when he saw Jungkook behind me, his eyes widening in surprise. His playful grin faltered for a second, replaced by curiosity as he glanced between the two of us. "Wait, what's going on here? You're bringing home the infamous Jeon Jungkook?"

I shot Hoseok a warning look, but he only raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. Of course, he would be staying over tonight. Hoseok was practically family at this point—my mom loved him, and he often stayed over when he was in town. I should have known he'd be here, lounging on the couch like he owned the place.

Before I could answer, my mom jumped in, leading Jungkook toward the living room, where she immediately started gushing over him. "Oh, it's so nice to meet one of Y/N's friends from school! She never brings anyone home. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Jungkook chuckled softly, giving my mom his signature charming smile. "Thank you, ma'am. It's nice to meet you too."

I could see my mom's eyes light up at his politeness, and I mentally groaned, knowing she was going to absolutely love him by the end of the night. Great, just what I needed—my mom falling for Jungkook's charm.

While my mom was busy fawning over him, I made my way over to Hoseok, who was sitting on the couch with an overly dramatic grin plastered on his face. The moment I sat down next to him, he leaned in, lowering his voice.

"So... you and Jungkook, huh?" Hoseok's tone was dripping with playful curiosity. "Did I just sense some serious tension there, or am I imagining things?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to act casual, though I could feel my cheeks warming up. "It's nothing. We're just working on a group project together."

Hoseok snorted, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, sure. A group project. Is that what we're calling it now? What happened, huh? Did you two—" He paused, his eyes widening. "Wait, don't tell me you guys really kissed."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I glanced at Hoseok. I didn't need to say anything; the look on my face was enough to confirm his suspicions.

Hoseok gasped dramatically, his voice dropping even lower. "You did kiss! Oh my god, Y/N! I knew there was something going on between you two."

I nudged him with my elbow, whispering harshly, "Will you keep it down? My mom's right there."

Hoseok grinned, completely unbothered by my attempt to hush him. "How was it? Was it good? Was it like... you know, fireworks?"

I shot him a look. "Hoseok, seriously, now is not the time."

But Hoseok, being the relentless best friend he was, wasn't about to drop it. He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, spill the tea. I've got to know. You can't just drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay quiet."

I sighed, knowing he wasn't going to let this go. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. "We kissed. "

Hoseok's grin widened. "And? How was it? You can't just say it happened and leave me hanging."

I glanced over at Jungkook, who was still talking with my mom, oblivious to the conversation Hoseok and I were having. "It was...something. he uhh you know?" i glanced down at my bottom area hinting him what had happened

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "OMYGOD! So, like... good or bad?"

I gave him a pointed look. "What do you think?"

Hoseok let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow. You and Jeon Jungkook. Who would've thought? The bad boy and the good girl. This is like some kind of drama."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Please, don't make this a thing."

"Oh, it's already a thing, Y/N," Hoseok teased, nudging me with his shoulder. "You're in deep now."

I glared at him, though I couldn't help but smile a little. "You're impossible."

Hoseok just laughed, but before he could say anything else, Jungkook walked over, finally free from my mom's grasp. He glanced at me and Hoseok, a curious look in his eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze briefly meeting mine before flicking away.

"You guys talking about something interesting?" Jungkook asked, his voice casual, but there was a hint of playfulness there.

Hoseok, of course, jumped on the opportunity. "Oh, nothing much. Just talking about how Y/N never brings anyone home. Guess you must be special, Jungkook."

I shot Hoseok a look, silently telling him to shut up, but he just grinned back at me, enjoying every second of this.

Jungkook smirked, his eyes locking with mine for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am," he said, his tone teasing.

I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat rise to my face again. "Hobi, don't you have something else to do?"

Hoseok shrugged, standing up from the couch with a stretch. "Nah, I think I've caused enough trouble for one night. I'll leave you two to... whatever it is you're doing."

I watched as he sauntered off, but not before giving me a wink. I let out a breath, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable interrogation that would come from him later. But for now, I turned my attention back to Jungkook, who was still watching me with that same playful glint in his eyes.

"So," Jungkook said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You really couldn't stop talking about me, huh?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms defensively. "Don't get cocky, Jeon."

But he just grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. "Too late."

[lurkingshan]

hi!! i was wondering if you could recommend some good high school japanese (or from other countries) bls? all this time i avoided them cause i felt old and uncomfortable but yesterday i finally watched one and the pureness and warmth of these sweet kids experiencing their first love really warmed my heart and brought back memories of my own first crushes. thank u in advance and I hope u have a wonderful day!

Hi anon! I firmly believe we are never too old to be swept away by the nostalgia of a good high school show. There are specific emotional buttons that get engaged by a coming of age or first love story, and it's comforting to see both reflections of experiences that were similar to our own and fantasy versions of a high school experience we never got to have. I support you venturing into high school bl!

This is not a comprehensive overview of all bls with high school age characters, but a solid list of great shows that center that high school coming of age/first love experience in their stories, in a mix of moods and tones. I'll start with some favorites from Japan, and then include a few from other countries, as well. I hope you like some of these!

Japan

I Cannot Reach You

This is a classic friends to lovers first love story done exactly right. I don't know anyone who watched it only once, it's so satisfying.

If It's With You

A boy who is jaded before his time meets an earnest hottie when he moves to a new town and school. Feelings ensue.

My Love Mix Up

This one puts the com in romcom, with a confused bisexual chaos muffin setting off a comedy of errors as he tries to figure out who actually likes who among his classmates.

Takara-kun to Amagi-kun

A simple story of two boys trying to navigate their first relationship and figuring out how to go about dating and interacting at school.

Eternal Yesterday

On the tragic end, this is a story of first love that ends abruptly due to accidental death. The story is an exploration of the grief and stunted growth that results when someone so young suffers a loss so monumental. It's an absolutely beautiful show, but not a light watch.

Philippines

Marahuyo Project

This is a gorgeous show about a brash and loud and proud gay kid who gets sent to live on a small island after an incident at school, and decides to create an LGBTQ+ club at his new school. This one has a social education agenda, but it's also very funny and sweet.

South Korea

Light on Me

The story of a confident gay boy and his love triangle where you will actually like everyone involved! A rare gem in these drama streets.

Where Your Eyes Linger

And on the angstier side, this one is the story of two friends, one of whom has been raised to be a caretaker/bodyguard for the other, struggling with a realization of feelings between them. The power dynamic and social class divide between them feature heavily.

Taiwan

History 3: Make Our Days Count

Possibly a controversial pick, as this one has a tragic ending that is hard for a lot of people to stomach. But it's a great high school show that includes two first love stories, one between a beautiful himbo and the studious boy who catches his eye, and the other between his very sweet best friend and an older man he meets through his job.

About Youth

This first love story between two very nice boys struggling with school and family issues manages to be incredibly sweet while also dealing with some heavy topics, and features a couple amazing original songs that still get stuck in my head all the time.

The On1y One

This is such a pitch perfect high school story that I'm putting it on this list before it technically finishes airing. Two high school boys meet when their parents move in together and decide to get married, and begin to heal each other. This one nails the angst and yearning.

Thailand

My School President

Possibly one of the cutest high school romcoms of all time, and it features a student band so there are a ton of original songs. This is a story about a boy who runs for class president just so he can save his crush's music club. It's two nice boys who like each other and the shenanigans they get up to with their friends.

I Told Sunset About You

And for the completely opposite experience: the ultimate angsty coming of age queer awakening story. One of the most beautiful dramas I have ever seen, and so evocative and emotionally resonant that it is actually hard for some people to watch because it's too real.

[inubaki]

Shut Up and Power Up

In the struggle, Adam managed to coordinate himself to get his legs wrapped around Lucifer’s neck in a triangle choke hold with his arm held securely and keeping him trapped from escaping. Using his weight to keep Lucifer too unbalanced to get back up with his strength or try to escape using his shapeshifting abilities. Lucifer’s face was securely between his thighs with his face slightly squished and his free hand clutching his outer thigh while struggling. He blinked in surprise when he saw Lucifer’s snake-like tongue flicker out as his eyes began crescent moons, and he seemed to be… in bliss?

“Oh fuck!” Adam gasped in shock when Lucifer suddenly had an intense nosebleed, immediately making him release him from the hold to avoid getting blood on his thighs. “Coach, we have a nosebleed!”

-Chapter 3 by @royalglasses

I love the concept of this yandera super hero Lucifer so thirsty for an oblivious Adam that he can barely function. Em’ thighs!!

[glisten-inthedark]

Will's love for Mike and how it might be fundamental to the plot

Look, I'm going to be as blunt as possible: If the Duffers had no intention, and I mean even 0.0001% of intention of making Byler canon, they wouldn't have Will being in love with Mike as a part of their plot.

I mean, they could've easily presented another character in the story alongside Argyle to be his love interest, they didn't.

Instead, the entire Cali plot only existed just so we could see Mil*ven's relationship and how it still has a lot of issues and by presenting was with a clear love triangle and with Will's feelings towards Mike.

If they wanted to develop Mil*ven, they could've make him go with her to the Nina project, instead they deliberately made sure that Mike stayed behind and that instead we saw Will and Mike together.

And this is a matter of time management and of moving the narrative towards what they want.

The writers could've focused on talking about a plethora of other things. They could've again, presented a love interest for Will, they could've not make Will in love with Mike in the first place but instead they used precious time they had on their relationship and rebuilding their foundation.

Another point: Will's love for Mike seems to be fundamental to his character. It seems to be a part of who he is as much as being an artist or being gay.

Will loves Mike so completely and irrevocably that he pushed him towards El because that's what he thought he needed. But, we all have acknowledge already that Will seems to be an unreliable narrator (since most of season 4 was through his pov) and maybe things aren't as clear cut as they seem because what he sees vs what we see are two different things aka the Rink O' mania scene.

But I digress.

As I was saying, Will loves Mike unconditionally, truly and deeply. He sees a life with Mike at his side playing DnD and he's satisfied. He doesn't need more nor does he want more, all he needs it's Mike.

His love for Mike is integral to who he is as a character. Obviously I'm not saying it's the only thing that defines him, but it embedded itself into everything that he is and that he knows. Mike makes him feel good about himself, makes him feel like he isn't a mistake, Mike is Will's heart.

So, with all that in mind, what payoff could there possibly be in Mike not reciprocating these feelings. It makes absolutely no sense because we already are under the notion that he doesn't. Most of everyone that I come across on YT already thinks this to be the case and more importantly, Will already believes that to be the case so... What is even the point? Waste money, time, and literally everything that comes with producing the scenes we saw for what? Nothing?

How does that make any sense?

We already think Mike doesn't love him back, there's literally no purpose on dragging this on through another season unless, this love it's a part of how everything will fall into place.

It's clear that if we watch the show, love has been a central part of it from the start. There's the familial love, the platonic love, the friendship love and the romantic love.

There's the love of Joyce that allowed her to feel Will was alive, that was the love of Mike that he also somehow just knew Will was out there (him being the only one in the party that "just knew"), there's the love between Steve and Robin and Steve and Dustin, the love between Nancy and Jonathan (the only other couple that heard each other when one was in the Upside Down and the other wasn't which parallels Mike and who would have thunk it? Will), there's the love between Max and Lucas, love which helped save her, there's the love between El and Max, and so many, many more.

When Will was possessed, it was the love of the three most important people in his life that allowed him to break through and speak in Morse code.

Love has always been the central theme of Stranger Things, in all it's shapes and forms, and maybe, just maybe, it might be the entire point of the show. Maybe Will's and Mike's love for each other, that has been there the show started in the first place, is what will bring everything to a conclusion.

It's no coincidence that whenever shit was hitting the fan, love drove the plot forward and saved everyone, we could even use Billy as another example of that.

Because this love he has for Mike is so much a part of who Will is, of who Mike is, that it might be what saves them all.

[guzhufuren]

South Korea 🇰🇷 A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

Full list here.

1. Love for Love's Sake inside of a video game; high school setting; healing

At the age of 29 Tae Myungha finds himself transported into a fictional video game, and now 19 years old, he meets Cha Yeowoon, who is in the darkest moment of his life. And a translucent window appears where he receives a mission — to make Cha Yeowoon happy.

iQIYI (better subtitles) or GagaOOLala

2. Semantic Error enemies to lovers; university setting

A serious programmer and a rebellious artist clash over a school project. Their animosity keeps escalating to new extremes, defined by petty pranks and feisty arguments.

Viki

3. Love Tractor farm setting; farmer/city musician

Sunyeol, a city man with zero ability to survive in the countryside, comes to his grandfather's rural home. In front of him appears Yechan, a passionate and kind young farmer. While learning about rural life and assisting with farming tasks, Sunyeol gradually finds himself drawn to Yechan's warm and straightforward nature, while Yechan helplessly falls for Sunyeol.

iQIYI

4. Our Dating Sim high school friends to lovers; office setting

After 7 years, Lee Wan meets his first love, Shin Kitae, in a gaming company. When they were best friends in high school, Lee Wan was in love with Kitae. But he ran away and disappeared after confessing his feelings to Kitae after graduation. When the two of them begin working on a new dating simulation game and get more immersed in the project, old feelings are rekindled.

Viki or GagaOOLala

5. She Makes My Heart Flutter wlw; bar setting; niece and aunt dynamic

The extroverted Gang Seol is hired by her aunt Jung at her only-women bar. Even though they are both lesbians, they seem to be worlds apart and have very different love stories.

YouTube

6. The New Employee office setting; boss/intern

Excited to be interning at a successful advertising company, Seunghyun’s enthusiasm is curbed almost immediately when he meets his incredibly handsome, yet unbelievably cold boss on the first day of work. 

Viki

7. Light On Me love triangle; high school setting

One day Tae Kyung, a high school loner, starts questioning his own judgment about human relationships and gets advise from a teacher to join the school's student council. He meets the Vice President of the council, Shin Woo, who is somewhat cold toward him. However, he also meets the super-attractive President of the council: Da On, who appears to take an instant shine to him. The beginnings of a romance appear to be in the cards for Da On and Tae Kyung, but Shin Woo does not seem to approve.

Viki

8. The Eighth Sense university setting; trauma; surfing

Ji Hyun, a new student from a peaceful rural town, struggles to adjust to the bustling city life of Seoul. He meets a senior student Jae Won, who has just completed military service. Ji Hyun joins Jae Won’s surfing club and they begin to develop feelings for each other.

Viki

9. Sing My Crush best friends to lovers; musicians

Baram learned from the painful failure of his first love that he should be cautious with his feelings. During his high school days, he met Hantae in a disastrous first encounter. But then the two strike up an unlikely and close friendship in the aftermath. Baram becomes a part of a band, while Hantae is his manager. Years later, will Baram be able to keep his crush on Hantae a secret any longer?

iQIYI

10. Love Class 2 university setting; love class; TA/student; best friends to lovers

Love story of 3 couples: - Cheerful and optimistic Lee Hyun starts following cold and aloof tutor Kim An around like a puppy. - Joo Hyuk is an older student who has a thing for his university's teaching assistant Sung Min. - Student Min Woo is stuck in a confusing romantic situation: he has a secret crush on his best friend Ma Roo.

Viki or GagaOOLala

11. Bon Appetit neighbours; secret crush; food

Doohoon, a dedicated marketing manager, finds his life monotonous, filled with nothing but work. However, his new neighbor, chef Yoonsoo, seems dedicated to transforming Dohoon's lonely days around.

iQIYI

12. Unintentional Love Story rural setting; pottery; slow burn; secret agenda

Ceramic artist Yoon Taejoon disappears from society, while Ji Wonyoung is an employee who was dismissed from a large company. Ji Wonyoung is intent on winning over the heart of Yoon Taejoon in order to get his job back as Wonyoung is the company chairman's favorite artist.

iQIYI

13. Choco Milk Shake animals turned to humans; roommates

One day, two handsome strangers enter Jung Woo's house and claim they are Choco and Milk, the reincarnation of his childhood pets, a dog and a cat. The arrival of the two embarks on a new beginning and the quest to discover love.

YouTube

14. Tinted With You hinted at polyamorous trio; period drama; time travel

A high school student gets magically transported to the feudal period. Confused by his surroundings, he encounters a banished prince and his devoted bodyguard. The three characters live together and fall in love.

Viki

15. Blueming coming of age; university setting

Cha Siwon, a college freshman majoring in film studies, does a lot to maintain his image because of his past life of unpopularity. He meets Hyeong Dawoon, a classmate of his with perfect looks, good grades, and everything at his fingertips. Siwon’s feelings of wariness for his classmate soon change into something else.

iQIYI

16. All the Liquors chef/foodie; food

Han Jiyu is an employee on the marketing team of a liquor company. Park Kihoon is a skillful chef and an owner of a famous restaurant. When Jiyu is asked to contact Kihoon’s restaurant in search of potential collaboration, he runs up against a few walls—namely, Kihoon’s flat-out refusal to sell any alcoholic drinks in his restaurant. But Jiyu is not ready to just give up.

Viki or GagaOOLala

17. Mr. Heart sports; university setting

Jin Won is a university freshman who has a talent for running marathons. Sang Ha maintains a smile despite his difficult environment. A romance drama about the love and friendship between a rising marathon star and his new pacemaker.

Viki

18. Cherry Blossoms After Winter secret crush; high school setting

Ever since his parents passed away, Haebom has been living in Taesung’s house. And now, being a 12th grader, he enters the same class as Taesung, which makes the whole situation way more awkward. Living together 24/7, Taesung and Haebom's relationship is bound to change.

Viki

19. Jun & Jun office setting; childhood friends; boss/intern

Lee Jun becomes an intern at a cosmetics firm. Here he is reunited with his childhood best friend – a highly talented (but also highly flirtatious!) general manager named Choi Jun.

Viki

20. Kissable Lips vampire/human; university setting; unhappy ending

A campus romance between Jun Ho, a vampire who is walking the path of extinction, and Min Hyun, a human with pure blood.

Viki

21.  You Make Me Dance dancing; loan shark/debtee

The story of Song Shi On who is an aspiring contemporary dancer with a broken heart because he is not receiving love from his family and of Jin HongSeok, once a keen pianist, who has given up on his dreams to pursue a lucrative but unfulfilling career of a loan shark. But spending time with Shi On changes his perspective on life, and the duo forms a close bond.

Viki

22.  To My Star celebrity/chef

Actor Kang Seo Joon was once one of South Korea's biggest and most popular stars, but after he's rocked by a public scandal he goes into hiding. In his hideout, he gets acquainted with his new roommate, a young chef who leads a modest, unassuming life. Despite having wildly different personalities, the two begin on a relationship.

Viki (S1) & Viki (S2)

23. A Breeze of Love high school friends to lovers; sports; insomnia; university setting

Do Hyun, the captain of the basketball team, is preparing for the championship. The team manager brings Dong Wook, Do Hyun's first love, to fill in for an injured teammate. Dong Wook has insomnia and can only sleep well when he is with Do Hyun.

iQIYI

24. Bump Up Business real idols as the show’s actors; idol romance; music

Eden is about to make his idol debut. His agency pairs him with an experienced idol Jihoon who used to have a scandalous past. Eden is told by the company that their music duo will be doing a Business Gay Performance – they will have a fake romance to attract fans. For the sake of his dream, Eden agrees. What kind of feelings will develop between the two of them? Featuring the members of a real kpop boyband OnlyOneOf.

GagaOOLala

---

You can watch some shows for free on the streaming websites by setting VPN to South Korea. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy!  🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[anonymous-dentist]

Playing fast and loose with the rules here, but: an Ordem Paranormal AU (kind of.)

-

So, okay, here's the thing: Roier really doesn't believe in ghosts anymore. Ghosts aren't real, demons certainly aren't real, none of it is!

What is real is Instagram, and so that's what he does best: Instagram.

But the thing is- the thing is! Roier doesn't believe in ghosts, but he's pretty sure his bosses do, because all he does at work is photoshop cheap-looking graphics together and post 'Paranormal Safety Tips'.

"Some people may not realize that they're getting involved with the supernatural," Mr. Veríssimo says, "It's important to make sure that they're at least somewhat protected."

Which is fine and all, but also. Ghosts aren't real. Neither are demons- demons especially aren't real.

But Roier does his job, and he does it quite happily. It's decent pay, especially considering he's been in Brazil for just under a month now and this was the only place to actually respond to his job application. He gets to work from home. He gets one free coffee at a local cafe once a month.

That's right. Roier is the first ever social media manager for the Ordo Realitas, and he's doing a great job at it.

...But also. Ghosts aren't real. Neither are demons. Hell isn't real, and neither is the Devil. Blood is blood, and it doesn't breathe.

(Usually.)

-

Roier's neighbors like to argue all day and throw things and cause immense destruction towards themselves and their property, so Roier usually ends up spending at least one afternoon a week at the nearest library doing his job and watching YouTube videos.

He likes the library. It's quiet-ish, and it's across the street from this really good restaurant that makes Mexican food that almost tastes like the genuine article.

He especially likes the librarian: the one with the scars and the freaky vibes. He doesn't blink a lot, and Roier isn't sure he's ever seen this guy breathe, but that's fine. He always saves a table near an outlet for Roier and his laptop, and he doesn't question the absolutely freakish shit Roier has to make for his company's Instagram page.

Like today's 'Paranormal Safety Tip': 'If you find yourself face-to-face with a restless spirit, it's important to remain calm. Loud noises startle spirits, so stay quiet and back away slowly. Chances are, you'll get out of the situation unharmed. Once in a safe location, call the Ordo Realitas, and we'll send an agent out to handle the spirit for you!'

The text is the second photo out of two on the post. The first photo is going to be a MS-Paint sketch of a pissed-looking cartoon ghost holding a shotgun and shouting, in a white speech bubble, "I'm going to shoot you!!! >:("

Roier doesn't have a mouse, so he draws using his trackpad, and the librarian watches from over Roier's shoulder and only laughs a little.

"Shut up," Roier huffs. "It's art!"

"It is," the librarian agrees. "But that isn't what ghosts look like."

Roier turns around to glare at him. "What, and you know?"

The librarian nods.

Roier turns back around. Everybody's a critic...

"Don't you have a job to be doing?" he taunts.

"Normally, yeah, but nobody else is here," the librarian responds. "It's just us."

He pulls out the chair opposite Roier and sits, arms crossed across his chest. This close together, Roier notices that some of the scars on the librarian's arms almost seem to make patterns: triangles, spirals... words? Huh.

Whatever, that isn't any of Roier's business. So what if his favorite librarian is a shady guy? So is Roier! He can't judge.

But, looking up from his laptop (and from the librarian's very nice arms), Roier notices that there really isn't anybody else in the library. He hadn't even noticed how quiet it had gotten, he was so caught up in his masterpiece drawing. All of the usual patrons- the old man reading the newspaper, the mother and her children in the corner, the students arguing over their latest project- are all missing. So are all of the other librarians.

"Huh," Roier smartly says.

He looks back at his laptop, and then he starts scrolling down through the Instagram page. He's sure that he's written something up about sudden disappearances...

"I was honestly surprised to find you over here," the librarian continues. "I figured you would have gone where everybody else did."

Roier shakes his head. "Nah, I'm here. I've got shit to do, man. Important shit."

The librarian nods. "Instagram."

Roier looks up from his laptop and points a finger at the librarian.

"Work," he corrects, waggling his finger just a little. "I'm doing work."

"You're drawing shitty ghosts and posting them on Instagram."

"And I'm getting paid for it. I'll fucking take this over my old job."

"Really? What was your old job?"

Roier thinks back to Mexico and the weeks leading up to his wedding. Sitting outside of his soon-to-be husband's window at night with binoculars, following him around town, slashing his tires so he wouldn't leave to go to the bar when Roier had a game night planned between them.

"Surveillance," he quickly says. "Like, cameras and shit. It was boring, though. Lots of waiting."

"Sounds fun, honestly." The librarian shrugs; his leg bounces under the table hard enough to shake it, nervous. "I could handle that."

"What, is librarian-ing that boring?"

"No, but it's a lot more socializing than you'd think. It can be a bit... much sometimes."

Roier nods sympathetically. He's more of an introvert than a lot of people think he is, especially now after... after everything.

He frowns as he reaches the bottom of the Instagram. Nope, nothing about weird group disappearances.

...It's probably fine?

Roier cranes his neck to try and look over the librarian's shoulder.

"Where is everybody?" he asks.

The librarian shrugs. "I was on my break. I came out of the break room, and everyone was gone."

He turns his head to try and follow Roier's gaze.

"Sometimes we do community events," he continues, "but I don't think that there was one scheduled for today."

"Huh," Roier says, a perfect echo of when he had last said it. "That's kinda weird, right?"

"...Yeah."

They both sit there in silence for a moment before the librarian awkwardly clears his throat and turns his head to the side.

"Should we... look for them?" he asks.

Every single post that Roier has done for the Ordo Realitas has ended with him telling the public to call the Ordo when they're experiencing something paranormal in nature. So... should he call them?

But also. He's the Ordo Realitas. He's the guy who goes through all of the dms the Ordo gets on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook... everywhere!

Besides! Ghosts aren't real! Neither are demons.

So Roier pushes back his chair and stands.

"Come on," he tells the librarian, hurriedly packing his laptop away in his bag and slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I bet they just went outside. We probably missed a fire alarm or something."

"We would've heard a fire alarm," the librarian huffs.

But he stands, anyway, and he joins Roier as he starts making his way through the library.

It isn't a huge library, is the thing. It's small. Its shelves are short enough for Roier to easily be able to see over the tops of them. There's only one main room, and then there's the break room that the librarian seems to believe is also completely empty. There is one set of main doors at the front of the main room, and then there are a few windows along the walls.

As Roier and the librarian pass through the shelves and make it into the open area in the middle of the room- where the circulation desk is, Roier notices a weird chill in the air that he swears wasn't there a minute ago.

"Huh," says the librarian, looking down at their feet, "maybe there was a fire, after all."

Roier looks down, too. His nose wrinkles. This, he remembers posting about.

A thin layer of smoke covers the floor, not quite enough to reach halfway up Roier's shoes. It's cold, of course it's cold. It isn't even smoke, really. It's freaky mist... stuff.

Roier's hand tightens around the strap of his bag: white knuckles and stinging palm. Not again...

The librarian swings a foot through the mist absently; the mist kicks up briefly, but it settles back down almost immediately.

What did that post say, again? God, Roier needs a rubber bracelet saying, 'WWMVD?': What Would Mr. Veríssimo do?

Roier has met Mr. Veríssimo only twice, and he had a gun in his hands both times.

Roier does not have a gun now.

...But, really, are guns even necessary? It's just mist, right?

Only just a little freaked out, Roier shuffles a step closer to the librarian.

"Maybe we should get out of here," the librarian says, reading Roier's goddamn mind. "I mean. If there is a fire, we definitely need to leave."

Roier nods in agreement. "Yes. Definitely."

Neither of them move.

Roier jumps and bumps into the librarian as a book falls from a shelf on the other side of the room.

The librarian grabs him by the arm and stabilizes him, not letting go.

They both look in the direction of the fallen book.

"Dude," says Roier, "I think your library is haunted."

"We're in Brazil," the librarian responds. "I think every building is haunted here."

Roier nods. Makes sense. Ghosts aren't real, but Brazil is probably haunted as shit. That's why the Ordo Realitas is based here and not in, like, Paraguay. Or something.

They stare at the book some more. The mist reaches towards it like a needy baby, but it doesn't quite make it.

"You're a librarian," Roier says, "you should go pick that up."

The librarian shakily sighs, "Yeah. I should, shouldn't I?"

He sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. Straightens his shoulders. Marches towards the book, pulling Roier along with him; Roier doesn't fight too much. He doesn't want to be alone right now, either.

They get to the book.

The librarian looks down at it.

Slowly, he bends down. He picks the book up with one hand.

And then he immediately drops the book and skitters back a few steps, bumping into Roier's chest and almost knocking them both over.

Panicked-sounding, the librarian wheezes, "It's hot!"

"It's a book!" Roier argues. "It can't be hot!"

The librarian shakes his head rapidly. "It's hot. It's warm. Like you."

Through all the terror in Roier's heart, he manages a faint blush.

"Are you really calling me hot right now?" he asks.

The librarian looks back at him with a very unhappy expression: wide eyes, unblinking.

"The book was breathing," he wheezes. "Dude, we need to go."

Breathing books... that's new.

Oh, no. That's new. That means that Mr. Veríssimo doesn't know about it yet. That means that it isn't on the Instagram yet. That means that it's Roier's job as social media manager to get it on the Instagram.

Nose wrinkling in disgust, Roier shakes the librarian off of him and crouches down next to the book. He pulls out his phone with shaking hands, opens the camera app. Takes a picture of the book's cover- a children's book: Learn Shapes With Bippi.

"Oh my God, you really are an Instagram guy," the libarian flatly says.

Roier waves him off with a 'Shush!'.

He grabs the book's cover by the corner with his thumb and pointer finger, and it takes everything for him to keep holding it because hooooly shit, it's breathing. It's warm and it's breathing and Roier swears there's a heartbeat, he swears!

"This sucks," he declares. "One more picture, and we're out of here."

He flips the cover over, ready to take a picture of just the title page, but he doesn't even finish reading the title again before dropping his phone and screaming and falling back onto his ass and scrambling backwards like an upside-down spider because oh God what the fuckOh GodWhatTheFuck-

"What the fuck?" the librarian screeches. "Alan?"

The face inside of the book lets out a moaned, pained breath. It blinks slowly, the page it's on trembling with the exertion. Its eyes are open and blank and staring and red and staring at Roier and- and its mouth! It's open and gaping and black and entirely too deep-seeming for the front page of a children's book. No nose, but two nostrils right in the middle of the page opening and closing with every ragged breath the face takes in. No skin, just the faintest indentation of a human face's internal musculature. No bones, just muscles, just muscles-

"'Alan'?" Roier gasps. His back bumps against the librarian's legs; the librarian pulls him up by the back of his shirt and tries to push him behind him. Yeah, no, Roier is the professional here. He's... he's the professional!

The librarian shakily nods. "Children's librarian. He's new. He's-"

"He's a fucking book!" Roier shouts. "What the fuck? Is this normal?"

"What? No! Of course it isn't normal!"

"Well! I don't know Alan! This could be normal! Who knows?"

"I know!" the librarian exclaims. He's still looking at the book. "Why is he a book!"

"How should I know?"

"You're the ghost guy!"

"Ghosts aren't real!"

The face groans and gurgles. The book it's in shakes, and it shakes so hard that it starts to move.

It starts to move right towards Roier and the librarian.

Roier grabs the librarian by his sleeve and starts tugging him away. Fuck his phone, fuck his phone! Mr. Veríssimo can just get him a new one! It's only fair! What the fuck!

"Cell... bit..." the face rasps.

The librarian grimaces.

"What the fuck is a 'Cellbit'?" Roier asks.

"Me," the librarian responds.

"Nice," Roier comments. "Stop looking at it. Let's go!"

But the librarian- Cellbit- doesn't budge, even with all of Roier's pulling.

"But... it's Alan," Cellbit insists. "He's a book. Is-" (He looks around the library, turning more and more pale with every passing second.) "-is everybody a book now?"

"Um," says Roier, looking around with him.

Now that he's looking, he can see that every single book on every single shelf around them is quivering in the same way the Alan Book is. There's a faint droning buzz around them that Roier is starting to think is actually hundreds of thousands of moaning, groaning, dying book faces.

He's going to be sick.

"This wasn't on the Instagram," is all he says before grabbing Cellbit firmly by the wrist and pulling him with all his strength away from the shelves. This time, Cellbit goes along with him even after jerking his wrist out of Roier's hold.

"This doesn't make any sense!" Cellbit shouts as they run. "People don't just become books!"

"I know that!" Roier replies. "This is fucked up, man!"

Another book falls from a shelf and starts wiggling towards them. And then another, and another, and another, and Roier knows that each one has a face inside. Every single one was a person ten minutes ago, but now. Now they're faces. In books. Flesh books. With heartbeats. And lungs.

Roier jumps over a fallen book. He glances down as he does so and gasps as he watches the cover fly open by itself and as the face on the title page snaps upwards and tries biting him with teeth that weren't there two seconds ago.

"They have teeth?" he cries. "Ew!!"

"They're book faces!" Cellbit huffs. "Why wouldn't they have teeth?"

"Fuck this. Fuck this!"

They make it out into the open area and the circulation desk. But the entire library around them is shaking and moaning and screaming- oh, the screaming!

Hundreds of books litter the floor slowly inching their ways towards Roier and Cellbit. They're all screaming as they drag themselves across the rough carpet.

Oh, God. The kids. Every person in this library except for the two of them are books. Including the kids.

"Doors," Cellbit wheezes, nodding towards the library doors.

Roier nods. "Doors."

They look at each other briefly before nodding in sync and taking off for the doors. Books fall all around them, tumbling to the floor and crawling after them with garbled screams and moans of pain.

"I'm trying to think," Cellbit breathes.

"Well, don't! Just run!" Roier snaps.

Cellbit ignores him and continues: "I wasn't holding a book. You weren't holding a book. We're fine. Alan was re-shelving the kids' section. He's a book."

He dodges to the side as a book lunges at him from its shelf.

"Okay?" Roier asks. "And?"

"And I bet everybody else touched a book!"

"We touched books!"

"But these ones are- fuck!" Cellbit swears and kicks a book that was trying to bite him away. "They're trying to bite us!"

Something sparks in Roier's brain.

"Werebooks?" he demands. "Really?"

Cellbit throws his hands up in the air. "I don't know! It's just a theory!"

Roier rolls his eyes, but he doesn't argue. Werebooks, sure. Those can be real. (Not ghosts, though. Or demonds.)

He and Cellbit get to the door.

They push the door open.

They run outside and wince at the sunlight blasting them right in the eyes.

But there are still books behind them. Roier can hear them.

Fuck! WWMVD?

The Ordo Realitas hunts the paranormal, Roier thinks. That's what everybody else does. But he's just a social media manager! He doesn't do that kind of stuff!

But if he doesn't stop all of those books from leaving the library, then God only knows how many of them would do... werebook things. They're disgusting. They're inhuman. They're monstrous. They're a danger to the world, and Roier has to stop them.

But how do you kill a bunch of books?

For whatever reason, his mind takes him back to the night after his wedding. Natalan stands in front of him with a lighter held to their marriage certificate, smiling as Roier struggles against his ropes to try and save their marriage from quite literally going up into flames.

"Fire," he gasps, suddenly back in the moment.

He spins to look at Cellbit, but Cellbit already seems on it. His hands are already searching his pockets desperately, and he's swearing under his breath.

Roier looks around the street desperately. There's the restaurant across the street. There are cars on the road. Tourists taking photos. Dogs. Cats.

An old man lighting a cigarette on the corner.

Roier grins and charges towards the old man.

"Sorry!" he shouts, swiping the lighter from him and ignoring the shouts (and the angry old man) following him as he runs back to the library.

Cellbit immediately reaches for the lighter. "Let me. It's my library."

But Roier ducks away and flicks the lighter open himself.

"And it's my job," he says. "Stand back."

He stares at the lighter's tiny little flame nervously, and then he looks at the doors to the library.

When he moved to Brazil a month ago, he didn't think he would be committing arson. But, well. Life isn't always what you expect it to be.

Roier takes a running start, and then he throws the lighter into the library. It hits the carpet, and the flames spread, well, like wildfire. (Thank God, the building is old...)

The books all scream in agony as they're burned, but Roier doesn't really give a shit. Fuck them, they're evil. Creepy-ass books...

He kicks the library's doors shut, and he walks back to Cellbit and the very angry old man.

Panting, Roier leans against a telephone pole. His bag is somehow still on his shoulder, but his phone is still inside.

He looks at Cellbit.

"Can I borrow your phone?" he asks. "I need to call my boss."

Cellbit doesn't look away from the library. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it with his thumbprint, and holds it out for Roier to take.

Roier puts in the Ordo's number and puts the phone to his ear. He listens to the dial tone, and he smiles as he hears the secretary's voice.

"Can you give me Mr. Veríssimo?" Roier asks her. "He's gonna want to hear this."

[pascalispretty]

history stopped in 1936

Javi G x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst, Spanish Civil War AU, war and its horrors, brief and vague descriptions of sex, it's implied that Javi and reader are speaking Spanish the entire time, references to drinking and smoking, unbeta'd so please be gentle!

Summary: The Spanish Civil War threatens the slice of paradise you and Javi have found together. (AO3)

A/N: Hoo boy. This was written for @studioghibelli's writing challenge, and the moment I saw the moodboard, I knew I wanted to do something Atonement-inspired. You don't need to know who the opposing sides were in the war, but if you'd like to learn more, I'd recommend George Orwell's "Homage to Catalonia". The title comes from an essay of his. As always my love to @misscharlielulu for her support.

Mallorca, August 1936

Spain burns and, across the Balearic Sea, rumours are carried like ash on the wind.

You and Javier had fled Barcelona in the middle of the night, just after St Jordi’s Day. The streets had still been littered with rose petals as you had made your way to the docks, and the waiting ship. The atmosphere in Barcelona had grown tense, shimmering with electricity like the air just before a thunderstorm.

In July, your fears had been vindicated when news trickled across the sea, whispers of a violent uprising. Nobody could say for certain who had seized power – the anarchists, the communists, the Carlists, or some as-yet-unknown political spectre.

By contrast to the news reports that trickled over from the mainland, Mallorca felt safe. The ocean separating the island from the peninsula made the war feel further away, something that was happening in another world. Even when Barcelona fell or when, days later, Franco invaded with his African army in Seville - it all felt so far away, separated by miles of sparkling blue water.

On your island sanctuary, you and Javi managed to find a measure of happiness. Reminders of the war were never far away, and you were all probably smoking and drinking too much, but it didn’t matter. You could still watch movies on the projection reel he’d bought before he met you. Tucked up against Javi’s side, watching Clark Gable or Errol Flynn, you could forget the war on the mainland entirely.

It was only when the war came to Mallorca that you realised how deluded you had been.

With censored newspapers and downed radio communications, rumours run like wildfire across the island. Days after Seville falls, the stableboys hear that the Republicans have landed on the east coast – the housekeeper tells Marta that it’s Russians sent by Stalin, and the man who delivers the mail insists its Italians. There’s fighting in the streets of Palma and to the ports in the east, but nobody can agree on who exactly is fighting who.

You clean up after breakfast, a hastily made pa amb tomàquet that masks the staleness of the bread. Even for a family as rich as the Gutierrez’s, you cannot waste food anymore.

They say the fighting is in Palma, and Porto Cristo. Drawn onto a map, the Gutierrez villa would form the apex of the triangle; it’s about as far away from the fighting as you can get while still being on dry land. You try to breathe. It’s just another Tuesday morning. You’re breaking leftover breadcrusts into a bowl for the dogs when Javi appears.

“Leave that, my love. Come out into the garden with me?” He asks, wrapping a large hand around your wrist. You don’t need much convincing; you wipe your hands down on a towel and twine your fingers with your husband’s as you walk out across the patio to the greenery beyond.

The gardens are a riot of colour. In the hazy, golden light of summer, the colours seem almost over-saturated. It’s a world away from the dark, medieval splendour of Barcelona. Foxgloves and red poppies and bright marigolds fill the carefully planned beds around the pond, a riot of Technicolour hues that somehow work beautifully in concert.

In the sunlight, Javi’s curls look gilded; he glows, in spite of the anxiety furrowing his brow. A stone bench sits beneath a gazebo, and he leads you over there. The wooden structure is heavy with jasmine; the smell perfumes the air, blending with the salt of the nearby sea.

“Is something wrong, Javi? Is it Marta?” You ask, worry colouring your voice. Javi’s mother, Marta, was a complicated woman. She had loathed Lucas, her nephew by marriage, but had been unable to get out of bed for days when news had reached her that he had been taken into Montjuïc Castle as a prisoner. Even across the ocean, you had come to know that nobody came out of Montjuïc alive.

Javi shakes his head, his hand cupping your elbow as he guides you to sit down on the bench beside him. Even now, it’s unlike him to look so morose.

“I’ve been talking to my father.” This much you already knew. One of the stableboys had come to fetch Javi in the middle of breakfast: his father had requested his son ride out with him. Whatever they discussed, it’s knocked your husband’s relentless optimism, and that worries you more than anything.

You hold Javi’s hands and wait patiently for him to tell you what’s bothering him, but he seems unable to find the words. Your mind careers from calamity to disaster in his silence. Someone somewhere has issued a warrant for Javi’s arrest. The army is on the move and will reach the cliffs by nightfall. His father, Jordi, has had another heart attack.

“My father- that is, my father and I-” Javier starts. You squeeze his fingers, your heart beating a rapid tattoo in your rising panic.

“Please, Javi, just tell me,” you plead. He looks out over the cliffs and his shoulders slump resignedly.

“My father thinks you should leave.” A punch to the gut could not have winded you more. You sit there, blinking at him like an idiot, unable to understand what he just said.

“My father thinks you need to leave, and I do too.” He turns away from the ocean, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to look into your eyes. “You need to leave Mallorca, leave Spain. Tonight if possible.”

“You want to send me away?” You manage, sounding rather more pathetic than you’d hoped. Javi shakes his head, his lovely brown eyes full of sorrow.

“I want you to be safe. And it’s not safe here, not for you.”

“It’s no more dangerous for me than-”

“It is more dangerous for you. The worst thing they do to men is shoot them.” The unspoken implication hangs unpleasantly in the air. Javi sighs and glances back towards the house. “My father thinks he can persuade my mother to leave.” You want to scream. You want to ask who made Jordi such an authority, who made him king of his own tiny dominion and gave him the power to dismiss you.

In your gut, you know Javier’s father is right. He’s been weathering the storms of Spanish politics since before you were born, a wily fox of a man who had declared months ago that the political powderkeg was about to explode.

 “I won’t leave you,” you insist, your voice firmer now. Jordi might be right; an army will come here someday. But you’d rather face them than abandon your family. “Until death do us part, Javi.”

“Please, sweetheart. It would only be for a little while. The war can’t last forever.” He manages a smile; a soft, crooked grin that wants to make you give in. You’d do so much to make him smile again.

“Your father will never get Marta to leave. She won’t leave him, and you won’t leave them.” The half-smile falls from Javi’s face.

“They’re old, sweetheart. I need to take care of them. But you – you’re strong. I know you can do this. You’ll go somewhere safe, and as soon as we’ve weathered this storm, you’ll come back.” Both of his hands are cupping your face now. Somewhere overhead, seagulls are screaming. His optimism makes you want to scream too.

“No, Javi, no, I can’t-” you start again, clutching his wrists in your hands.

“You can, you must,” he talks over you. In frustration you pull away, marching over the grass towards the house. One of Marta’s cats yowls at you as you pass it, pleading for attention, but you’re too upset to pay it any mind. Javi is hot on your heels, by turns pleading and stern. The door to your bedroom bangs against the wall as you fling it open.

You want space, but Javi won’t give it to you. He’s in your face, his hands roaming over you, clutching at your shoulders, your arms, your wrists. His rosy view of the world had been charming when you’d first met – now it makes you angry beyond words.

“I’m not leaving you,” you insist sharply, bringing your hands up to push your husband away from you. His hands circle your wrists instead, refusing to let you escape. “I’m not leaving you!” You repeat it in English, in your broken Catalan, in French. You tell him over and over in as many languages as you know, all the while struggling to break free of his hold.

The kiss takes you by surprise. He keeps one hand at your wrists; the other cups the back of your head. There’s no elegance to the kiss. He presses his mouth to yours, full lips meeting your own, your breath mingling with his. You’d almost think he’d done it deliberately to throw you off balance, if not for the surprised little intake of breath he makes.

“You are leaving tonight,” he says, once he’s broken the kiss. His fingertips grip the nape of your neck, your foreheads press together. You try to shake your head against his, but his hand at your neck grips tighter. “If I have to throw you into the boat myself, you’re leaving tonight.”

“I’ll hate you forever if you do.” It’s a childish assertion. His soft brown eyes fill with quiet devastation, and you immediately want to take it back.

“I’d rather have you hate me and survive than love me and die.” The two of you grapple again; him trying to keep his hold on you as you try to escape his grip. You have no real notion of why you want to break free – you could hardly hide in a cabinet until he gave up and allowed you to stay.

When the two of you tumble back onto the bed, it is an accident. You had tried to kick out with your legs, but had only succeeded in knocking you both off balance. His arms wrap around you as you lie on top of him, doing your best to squirm free and failing miserably.

You and Javi rarely argue. Any petty squabbles you do have are usually easily and quickly resolved. And when you do fight, you’ve gotten used to burning out that tension with sex.

So it feels like the most natural thing in the world to start pulling his shirtfront open. He takes your cue, his hands falling from your wrists and setting to work on the buttons of your dress. There’s a frantic energy to you both; for all you had been fighting him before, you can’t pull him close enough now. Your hands itch with the need to touch him, to memorise every inch and curve of him before he sends you away.

You sink your fingers into his curls and drag him down closer. It’s not making love, not the soft, slow sex that you and Javi usually have. This is something harsher, more demanding. The bedframe rattles with the force of your movements, and you know you should be embarrassed. The servants or Javi’s parents could hear, your actions unmistakable when the noise of the bed combines with the moans escaping from you both.

When you’ve both come, and are lying satiated in each other’s arms, the fire has gone out of your conversation. Javi rests his head on your breasts, humming contentedly as you play with his curls. You admire the Monet painting that faces the bed, the hazy floral landscape that you wish for all the world you and your husband could escape into. The canvas lilies almost seem to sway in the breeze with the haze of heat rising through the room.

“What if you forget me?” You say softly. As much as you know Javi loves you, you can’t deny that the thought scares you. That you will leave, but after long years of war, Javi will have moved on. He’ll find some pretty Mallorquin girl that never went into exile and never come to rescue you from your banishment.  

“I could never forget you,” Javi says, tilting his head back to look at you. Those beautiful eyes of his are so full of sorrow that you want to cry yourself.

“You say that. What if this war lasts as long as the Great War? Longer?”

“It doesn’t matter. ‘If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever’,” he says in English.

“Byron?” You ask, and he shakes his head. Of course he would quote poetry at a time like this.

“Tennyson. It’s true. I could fill the whole island with flowers, all the thinking of you I shall do while we’re parted.” Javi’s hands rest on your thighs, his thumbs stroking lazy circles onto your skin.

“Wouldn’t that be something to behold. A whole island, full of flowers. You could live four lifetimes and never run out of scenery to paint.”

“I would write to you every day, you know,” Javier manages eventually. You know he would. Javi has always had an excellent turn of phrase – there were half-drafted screenplay ideas all over your apartment in Barcelona.

“And one letter in twenty might reach me,” you retort. The postal service hasn’t exactly been running efficiently of late, never mind the inevitable censorship everything seems to be going through.

“I would keep you here with me if there was any way I could be sure you’d be safe.” He says gently, and you sigh. “And I would like you to go willingly. But you’re going either way, I’m afraid.” Even issuing orders, there’s undeniable tenderness to it.

“Between the both of us, we might fill all of Europe with flowers.” You try to imagine it; two paths of flowers creeping across the continent, growing every time you and Javi think of one another.

“The whole world, even.” Javier clutches a little tighter at your thighs, and you can hear tears thickening his voice. You hold each other tighter, and you know now that neither of you will loosen your grip until the very last moment.

****

Later, there will be a forget-me-not pressed into your hand as you and Javi say your final goodbyes at the dock. Your clothes are weighted down by the money and jewellery sewn into the hems, but it’s the flower you treasure the most. You refuse to cry as you sail away; you stare insistently at the dock, long after Javier has faded from your sight. You know he’ll be doing the same, standing on the pier and keeping a watchful eye on the horizon until the sky starts to lighten with the dawn.

Later, in spite of your denials, there will be letters. Javi writes to you often, mostly of trivial, household matters that won’t be censored. In every one he tells you how the gardens are growing. In every one, there is a flower drawn into the margin. You hoard them like a dragon hoards gold; when your homesickness makes you feel physically ill, you surround yourself with his letters and tracing the lines of his pen.

Later, there will be a screenplay. It’s smuggled off the island and brought directly to you by a man who only speaks brusque Catalan, and you nearly weep just to hear the language spoken again. The screenplay bears a pseudonym – Javier Peña – but every line is clearly your Javi’s work. It tells of a great love story flourishing in the face of a brutal war, of love conquering all. You cry over the last twenty pages, a handkerchief clasped to your face so you don’t smudge the ink.

Later, the war will end. Spain will survive, though she will not be saved. You will never walk through a garden of flowers without thinking of Javi.  

****

 “But what really happened? The answer is simple: the lovers survive and flourish.” – Ian McEwan, Atonement

TAGLIST:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse @totallynotastanacc

[rallentando1011]

Rise Donnie x Plus Sized/Curvy gn Reader Ideas

Content: brief mention of insecurity in oneself, cuddles, intentionally bad flirting, cute fluff

Word Count: 1026

As a man of science and just an overall sensible, thoughtful person, he acknowledges that attraction obviously goes far beyond anything material

Personality, sense of humor, how well the participants click with each other being just a few of the numerous qualifications

However, having established that fact, that was not to say physique was completely nongermane from the topic of attraction

No, certainly not

Physical appearance is the cover of the book; while the best material is inside of the novel, and you shan’t judge a book by its outside, an enticing cover can definitely be admired and appreciated

Especially when that cover has curves like yours

Not to be crass in any regard, but the first thing he gawked at respectfully observed when meeting you was your stunning physicality overall

Your comely smile, your confident stature, those hips, your nice posture, stuff like that

(but seriously he was drinking in your movie star-like looks so adamantly that Mikey had to wave a hand in front of his face, Raph had to yell, and Leo had to bonk him on the head before he was back on this plane of reality)

(Leo was whacked right back, but that’s beside the point)

The point was, by Humboldt, he was not prepared for the Reuleaux triangle that was your waist

Eventually, after seeing you a few times, he managed to externally contain how whipped he was (because, in all honesty, he still admires you and your looks)

However, getting to indulge in learning your personality, reading into you, definitely beats the already auspicious initial impression he had of you

Oh, Galileo, you have a nice demeanor and genuinely enjoyable character?

Yes, please sign him up

Once you two are together, certainly expect him to randomly say the nicest compliments ever, how cool you are, how enjoyable your company is, how much he appreciates you

No prompting, no build up, just the softest, gushiest comments out of the blue

Just sharing the thoughts as they come to mind

He’s definitely the type to drop the worst pick up lines/puns to ever exist, sardonically, of course

But you parry that blade right back

Once while he was tinkering in his lab with you sitting beside him, he abruptly asked if you were Copper and Tellurium

You were puzzled until you pieced together the chemical symbols of those elements respectively - CuTe. That one was bad

You deadpanned before grinning mischievously back at him, asking if he was from Tennessee

Puzzled, he stuttered for a moment before you interjected with “Because you’re the only ten-I-see”

Both of you physically tensed as you said the line, but the awkwardness quickly dissolved into laughter and the exchange of more similar sayings

It was safe to say the pick up line war that ensued meant not much productivity occurred in the lab that day

On Halloween, absolutely expect to have the crème de la crème of costumes

Whether you two are dressing up together or wearing your own attire

Oh, you’re customizing your costume? Are you talking enamel pins, sewing, 3D printing? Whichever or whatever it is he is SO on board and will absolutely volunteer his assistance

That being said, don’t enlist his help unless you’re prepared for it to get needlessly complex, e.x. possibly some mechanics, so many intricate details

It’ll be a project, but the fun times along the way and the killer final product will be worth it

Trust that during the cold months of the year that cuddles will be abundant (insulation in the sewers of New York City shockingly has quite a steep price, so calling you over is easier)

Movie nights, sitting with an arm slung around you, bundled up with your knees ever so slightly resting on his

Working on blueprints or small tweaks in the lab with you swished beside him on his desk chair (Is it a little cramped? Yes. Would he ignore the slight inconvenience of his workspace and ability being hampered for your company? Also yes.)

Sleepovers and late-night cuddles with your back pressed to his plastron, your legs curled with his practically adhered to the back of yours, his arms wrapped loosely around your abdomen, his thumbs soothingly tapping your sides, his chin tucked onto your shoulder

However, cuddles that thorough would only occur on nights where he’s feeling really lonely or tired, like after a long fight, or a mind-melting project, or if it’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other or shown affection like that

Snuggles outside of that domain normally consisted of laying with your sides pressed to each other and that’s it

Or, another typical means of cuddling, both of you curled up on your sides, facing inward, knees and foreheads gently pressed together as you feel each other’s featherlight breaths, soft reminders that the other’s still there

No matter which way you ended up cuddling in, it never failed to send a wave of warm relaxation crashing peacefully over you

Until he fell asleep

Snoring, drooling, kicking, if you name it, he did it in his slumber

Some nights you would wake up to being shoved unceremoniously off of the bed by an innocently sleeping Donatello

Other nights, instead of pushing you away, he pulled you even tighter to him, wrapping you up in each and every limb

His sleeping habits were not suitable for having a companion at his side

You assumed it was because of his dreams or the temperature or something, but all you knew for sure was that every time you slept beside him was its own unique adventure

If you have insecurities or any self-consciousness, whether it be physical or mental, he just doesn’t understand it at first

How could someone so incredible in his eyes not see themself the same way?

But then he considers his own mentality, his own insecurities and doubts, and comforts you any way you need

Words of affirmation? He’s got you

Hugs? He can manage that

Just need him to be there for you? He will be

Bottom line, whatever your size or build may be, he fully embraces and supports you

[rweoutofthewoods]

𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Storyteller, that “Angst with a Happy Ending” girl.

✩ She/her ✩ 22 ✩ Jewish ✩ aftg ✩ marauders

𖤓 LINKS 𖤓

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WIPS

★ Every Omen in the Valley

╰┈➤ WIP | Jegulus. Soulmate AU, Sports/college AU. Enemies to friends with benefits to lovers. (Updates every other Friday, give or take) On hiatus until December.

★ Tennesee Baby

╰┈➤ WIP | student x teacher. Regulus is an amateur writer hungry for more and James is his teacher.

★ Saltwater & Cigarettes

╰┈➤ WIP | Jegulus. Fake dating, summer holiday, enemies to lovers. Loosely inspired by Anyone but You.

★ prey

╰┈➤ WIP | Jegulus. a/b/o, canon divergent, horcrux hunting. Regulus is Harry's parent and survives the cave.

COMPLETED

★ anti-hero

╰┈➤ 237k words | jegulus (side wolfstar). Canon divergence. Regulus lives.

★ pathological people pleaser:

╰┈➤ 114k words | BPD James, James/Jegulus centric but multi-character and ship focused.

★ god bless america

╰┈➤ 84k words | Jegulus, wolfstar. Southern AU. childhood friends to lovers to exes to lovers AU. Set in the south in 2005 because I’m nostalgic.

★ Youngblood

╰┈➤ 75k words | Jegulus. The juvie AU. James and Regulus meet in juvie. They meet again nine years later and the past comes back to bite them.

★ antithesis

╰┈➤ 68k words | jegulus (band au!!)

★ Worst Case Kid

╰┈➤ 42k words | Jegulus, age gap. The tolerate it AU.

★Antipathy

╰┈➤ 36k words | cheating fic. Relationship study of toxic relationships and infidelity.

★ don’t call me kid (don’t call me baby)

╰┈➤ 18k words | Jegulus... infidelity, the folklore love triangle AU.

★ 27 club

╰┈➤ 27k words | Jegulus, MCD: loosely inspired by Nirvana, 1990s band AU

★ Noble

╰┈➤ 9k words | Lilycissa, Jegulus. Canon compliant but if lilycissa and jegulus were canon.

ONESHOTS

★slow endings

╰┈➤ 6k words | Jegulus. Canon compliant, Harry's POV. Harry finds out about jegulus through letters after the second war.

★castles crumbling

╰┈➤ 11k words | Jegulus. Exploring their relationship in Hogwarts, James saves Regulus from the cave.

★bad idea right?

╰┈➤ 6.5k words | Jegulus. James and Regulus are broken up but they're dumb and have sex.

★I’ll stare directly at the sun

╰┈➤ 3k words | Jegulus. A small return to the anti-hero universe.

★you don't love me in a way I understand

╰┈➤ 3k words | Jegulus, inspired by Wishbone by Richard Siken

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FAQ

What's your update schedule?

╰┈➤ I update my main project every Friday, everything else happens as god intends it.

Can I dm you/come chat?

╰┈➤ OF COURSE. My dms are always open, pls feel free to come talk.

How do you write so much?

╰┈➤ Short answer, mental illness. Long answer, a lot of commitment, practice and obsession. If you're interested in my writing process here's the writing-related asks #mere's writing asks and answers and you can feel free to shoot me specific questions.

Can I send you fic requests?

╰┈➤ Yes you may, but I cannot promise I'll manage to write them! HOWEVER, I'd love to try or work specific things into fics if you want them.

PLAYLISTS

★ anti-hero

★ ppp

★ god bless america

★ Worst Case Kid

[solarmorrigan]

Steve crochets Eddie a scarf part 1, part 2, part 3, Ao3

-

Steve has heard of knitting circles, of course, but he’d never expected to be a part of one.

(Of course, since it’s just him, Joyce, and El, and none of them knit, it’s really more of a crocheting triangle – except for that one time Murray Bauman joined them; he knits, because of course he does, and that had made it into more of a mixed yarncraft square, but that doesn’t really roll off the tongue.)

He also hadn’t expected that the true purpose of a knitting circle (crocheting triangle) is not to better facilitate any kind of fiber crafting, but mostly to spend time snacking and gossiping.

He can’t say he really minds.

“So, Steve,” Joyce says, looking up from the baby blanket she’s been working on (one of her coworkers, Margey, is pregnant; she’s a nice young woman whose boyfriend doesn’t deserve her, and who very much hopes she’s having a girl, even though her boyfriend wants a son, so Joyce is making the blanket optimistically—or vindictively—pink. Steve loves that he knows all of this), “I never did ask – did that someone like their scarf?”

“Oh. Um.” He has no idea how to answer that. Eddie had definitely liked the scarf, had liked it enough to give Steve a gift in return—a very thoughtful one, actually—and then Steve had gone and ruined it and probably scared Eddie away forever, and maybe now Eddie wanted nothing to do with the scarf?

Steve really has no idea.

He’s probably been silent for too long, though.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they did. Thanks again for your help.”

Steve follows this statement with an incredibly nonchalant gulp of coffee, which is about when El turns to him and asks, “Who is ‘someone’? Did you finish a scarf for someone other than Eddie?”

Coffee is not air, and it does not belong in Steve’s lungs. Luckily, he only inhales a little bit of it, and manages to cough it out before Joyce feels the need to reach over and thump him on the back.

“No. Nope, just… just Eddie’s,” Steve rasps, decidedly not looking at the knowing smile that’s tucked itself up in the corners of Joyce’s mouth.

“Oh. Well, then he definitely likes it,” El says. “He’s wearing it every time I see him.”

“That sounds like a good sign,” Joyce says leadingly.

“Yeah, maybe.” Steve shrugs and focuses on his new project (Henderson’s scarf; it’s thinner than Eddie’s but broader, so it can be folded over, and he’s making it with colorful, variegated yarn).

“Are you going to ask him out?” Joyce asks.

Steve wonders if it’s possible to drown himself in his cup of coffee.

It doesn’t matter either way; El’s attention has already snapped back to him, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and she’d probably just find a way to drag him back from the dead.

“Are you?” El demands with a grin.

Abandoning his crochet hook, Steve reaches up to shove his fingers under his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose (he’s still getting used to the glasses; he doesn’t like wearing them, but they do help with his migraines, and Joyce makes disappointed Mom faces at him when he doesn’t wear them, so he at least brings them to the crochet triangle). “Probably not.”

He can hear the frown in El’s voice as she asks, “Why not?”

“Pretty sure I blew my chances there,” Steve sighs.

“What happened?” Joyce asks; when Steve lets his glasses fall back into place to chance a glance in her direction, she looks sympathetic.

It’s been about a week since Steve sent Eddie running from his house, and Steve hasn’t really had the opportunity to talk to anyone about it yet. Robin would usually be the first (and probably only) person to hear about it, but he hasn’t quite been ready for what he knows will be an entirely honest, but not entirely gentle, assessment of the situation.

El and Joyce are likely to be kinder, but it also feels a little weird to talk to them about his love life. Joyce has been more of a mother to him than his own ever was, and even though El is rapidly approaching sixteen, she’s still like nothing so much as a kid sister. Do people talk about this sort of thing with family members? Steve has no idea.

Whatever.

“He, uh. He actually brought me a gift,” Steve finally says, finding great interest in the view out the window behind Joyce. “Like, to say thank you for the scarf.”

Joyce nods encouragingly.

“What was it?” El asks.

“A, uh. A Hellfire shirt. For his little nerd club. Except he said that it’s our nerd club now because I’m a member, even though I don’t play.” Steve shrugs. “I guess because I do other stuff for them.”

“That sounds nice, Steve,” Joyce says, and Steve nods.

“It was. It is! It was really nice, and I wanted to show him I appreciated it, so I gave him a hug, right? And that was nice, too, and he returned it, and he – like, he seemed interested,” Steve’s on a roll now, there’s no stopping the car crash of words coming out of his mouth, of all the habits he had to pick up from Robin– “so, y’know, when he said he hoped he got the right size shirt, I said maybe I should try it on to make sure, and he said that was a good idea, and—I would like to reiterate, he really seemed interested—so I just, y’know, kinda took off my shirt right there. In front of him. To try the new one on. And I might’ve thrown the other one at him. And he left very quickly after that.”

Of all the reactions Steve had expected, Joyce laughing at him hadn’t been high on the list, but that’s exactly what she does. So hard she nearly falls out of her chair.

Steve watches her in open-mouthed shock for a moment before exclaiming, “It’s not funny!”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry!” Joyce gasps in between peals of laughter, flapping a hand at him. “Of course it isn’t!”

This draws a giggle out of El, and Steve turns to point a finger at her. “Don’t you start, too.”

El slaps a hand over her mouth, but it’s very clear that she, too, is laughing.

“I seriously think I scared him off!” Steve insists. “He ran out of there so fast he took my sweater with him. I liked that sweater.”

This only makes Joyce laugh harder, and Steve has no choice but to sit back on the couch with a huff and wait for the mirth to die out.

“Okay,” Joyce breathes, running a thumb under her eyes to catch the tears while El does her best to bite down on her smile. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m good now.”

Steve grumbles, picking his scarf back up, but he can’t say that he’s really that displeased; it’s nice, after everything, to hear everyone still laugh (and even if he’d prefer it not be at his expense, he doesn’t mind now and then).

“Do you want my advice, sweetie?” Joyce asks.

“Since I’m providing entertainment, it only seems fair,” Steve says, and Joyce snorts.

“Okay.” She abandons her chair and comes to perch on the arm of the sofa beside Steve, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a one-armed hug that he doesn’t resist in the slightest. “You probably did come on a little strong.”

Steve sags a little against Joyce, and she’s quick to continue. “But! I really don’t think you ruined your chances. Maybe he just wasn’t expecting such an… immediate reaction, or maybe he was worried that he was misreading the situation–”

“How can you misread someone taking their shirt off?”

“People convince themselves of all sorts of things where love is involved,” Joyce says, rubbing Steve’s shoulder, and Steve mentally swaps out ‘love’ for ‘feelings,’ because he can’t think about love right now (not again, not yet). “But Eddie seems like a pretty straightforward kind of guy; I’m sure he’d have told you if he wasn’t interested. You should just be honest with him. Talk to him.”

“But that’s not how it works,” El pipes up from Steve’s other side.

Steve and Joyce both look over, and El sets down the rainbow beanie she’s been working on (it has an absolutely excessive pompom on top, and Steve really hopes she’s planning to make Mike wear it), preparing to explain.

“In the movies,” El says earnestly, “that is not how it works. No one just talks about it, that’s… weird.”

Steve grins. El’s latest endeavor in pop culture education has been romcoms; she’s been devouring the entire section at Family Video, and Steve has taken great pleasure in offering her recommendations (Robin, meanwhile, insists he’s poisoning El’s mind with pre-packaged, heteronormative trash; Steve says Robin is just jealous that El doesn’t like her film recommendations; Robin tells Steve to go crochet a doily; then they get into an argument over the purpose of doilies—Robin insists they’re purely decorative, but Steve is certain they must have some kind of use—and forget about their original argument entirely).

“She has a point,” Steve says. “I can’t just go up to Eddie like, ‘Hey, sorry for sorta stripping in front of you, are we still cool, man?’ That would be really awkward.”

Joyce gives him a dry look. “Well you don’t have to phrase it like that.”

“Exactly!” Steve snaps his fingers, pointing at Joyce. “I can still talk to him, I just have to… you know, talk around it. Play it cool.”

El nods sagely. “Play it cool,” she echoes.

“See? El’s got me.” Steve grins, gesturing back at El for good measure.

“Okay.” Joyce holds her hands up, as if in surrender. “Apparently you guys know best. I’ll just take my advice and my happy relationship and go back to my chair.”

Steve shrugs. “Well, yeah, your method worked on Hopper, but I’m not trying to get with Hopper.”

“Ew.” El reaches over and gives Steve a shove. Joyce has a hand over her eyes, clearly trying not to laugh again.

“It’ll be fine, you’ll see,” Steve insists, and Joyce gives an affirmative hum that doesn’t really sound like she believes him at all.

But she will see. He’s just going to play it cool, Steve decides, as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and goes back to crocheting a scarf for a mouthy fifteen-year-old he has trouble saying ‘no’ to.

He’s totally cool.

-

Steve realizes as the phone starts ringing that maybe he should have come up with a plan before dialing Eddie’s number.

The thing is, Steve isn’t really much of a planner; he has an idea, he follows through with the idea. He can deal with the consequences of the idea when they arise.

Unfortunately, the consequence of his current idea is Eddie answering the phone, and it has just arisen.

“Hello?”

Steve blanks.

Greeting. He should greet Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie.”

Nice.

“Steve. Hey.” Eddie doesn’t sound displeased, but maybe a little higher pitched than normal. Nervous? Maybe that’s just the connection.

There is a moment of awkward silence in which neither of them says anything because Steve is the one who called and he hasn’t told Eddie what he called for, mostly because his idea had pretty much boiled down to ‘call Eddie, feel out the situation, but don’t talk about the thing.’

It’s Eddie who finally speaks, sounding more like himself when he asks, “So, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, I was just calling to… check,” Steve pauses, briefly, thinking frantically, “what kind of snacks you wanted. For Friday.”

“…Friday.”

Steve’s stomach drops. Did Eddie actually want nothing to do with him now, or had he just forgotten?

“Yeah. You guys were planning to play over at my place this week. That’s… still a thing, right?”

“Right! Yes, yeah, it’s – yeah.” Steve can almost see Eddie nodding on the other end. “I just wasn’t sure you’d… want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” Steve frowns; they are perilously close to talking about it.

“Uh. No reason, I guess? Didn’t want to make assumptions on your behalf,” Eddie says. “Y’know, sweep in and totally take over your house when you’re not feeling it, and then you’re standing there giving us invaders your best mom glare.”

Steve rolls his eyes, fond despite himself. “I do not have a mom glare,” he says (Eddie isn’t going to listen, just like no one else listens when he tries to tell them the same thing). “Anyway, how about you just tell me what you want to eat, huh?”

“Oh, you know me, I’m not picky,” Eddie says breezily. “I’ll eat whatever you want to feed me.”

“You know that means you’re not allowed to complain about what I pick, right?” Steve says, banishing the thought of actually feeding something to Eddie (but– flirting. Flirting is a good sign, right?).

“Not a peep. Cross my heart,” Eddie says, and Steve can’t help but smile in response to the way he’s certain Eddie must also be smiling right now.

“Uh huh,” Steve hums, as if he doesn’t believe Eddie (and he doesn’t, really, because Eddie is pickier than he makes himself out to be, and he will complain if only to be a nuisance), and he wants to leave it there, leave it on that light note of banter, but– he also wants to be sure. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to wear the shirt?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Well, it is standard club attire, Steve,” Eddie teases, and Steve gives in to a little huff of frustration.

He bites the bullet, decides to be just a little more direct. “Sure, but– do you want me to wear it?”

“I–” Eddie starts, stops, falls silent. Steve holds his breath. Then, finally: “Yeah. I really do.”

Steve sighs out into a grin. “Great. I’ll, uh. I’ll see you Friday, then?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, “I’ll see you Friday.”

Steve’s pretty sure he hasn’t had fucking butterflies in his stomach since maybe his junior year of high school, but damn if he doesn’t get them now, just thinking about the end of the week.

(He’s probably beyond pretending he’s anything like cool about this, but he’s surprisingly okay with that.)

-

Friday evening brings the promised onslaught of invaders, and Steve greets them at the door, the foyer filling with the squeaking of snow-wet shoes and the extended rustling of winter coats being shucked and shoved into the closet.

It’s the kids who come in first—just Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will tonight—chattering at each other and at Steve and making themselves right at home, as usual, but it’s the older Hellfire members who clock Steve’s shirt first. He can see the moment Jeff sets eyes on it, elbowing Gareth and nodding at Steve; Gareth snickers, which alerts Grant, who looks at Steve and rolls his eyes.

Steve raises his eyebrows at the three of them, but they don’t seem inclined to say anything. They don’t even seem that surprised.

Dustin, however, speaks up almost immediately upon noticing.

“Steve, what are you wearing?”

“Clothes,” Steve retorts. “What are you wearing?”

Mike, now alerted to Steve’s choice in attire, looks utterly affronted. “Where the hell did you get that?” he demands.

“It was a gift, Wheeler, don’t burst a blood vessel,” Steve says, which does not seem to go a long way at all in getting the kid to chill out.

“The t-shirts are for Hellfire members only,” Mike says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Which is how we know Steve is a member,” Eddie says from the doorway, where he’s finally made it in from parking the van, his jacket still zipped and the scarf Steve made for him wrapped around his neck.

“He’s not, though!” Mike insists. “He doesn’t even play!”

Eddie hums, stepping fully into the foyer and shutting the door behind himself before making a show of looking around the room.

“Tell me, Wheeler: whose house are we in right now?”

Mike stares at Eddie, brows raised, not quite able to tell if he’s being asked a trick question or not. “Steve’s?”

“And who probably has snacks waiting in the kitchen for our ravenous horde?” Eddie goes on.

This time, Mike sighs. “Steve, but–”

Eddie cuts in. “And who gives those of you without the ability to legally operate a motor vehicle rides to and from club meetings whenever your little hearts desire?”

“Technically, we rode with Jeff and Grant tonight,” Dustin pipes up.

“Other club members! An excellent point, Henderson!” Eddie points to Dustin in agreement, who mostly looks baffled, if a little amused. “It’s a service we provide for each other.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but–”

“Now tell me, Wheeler,” Eddie rolls right over Mike’s protest, slinging an arm across his shoulders. “Who founded the Hellfire Club?”

“You did,” Mike says, glancing uncertainly at Eddie.

“And who ultimately decides whether or not to grant membership to another person?”

“…You do.”

“And who, pray tell, has the ability to make tonight’s session very challenging for our party’s gallant paladin?” Eddie smiles, sharply saccharine in the face of Mike’s sour frown, and reaches up to pat Mike on the cheek when he doesn’t answer. “And don’t you forget it.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Couldn’t you have picked a better-fitting shirt, though?” Lucas asks Steve.

“It was a gift,” Steve reiterates. “And shut up, this fits fine.”

“Right,” Dustin drawls, looking from Steve to Eddie with narrow-eyed suspicion.

“I didn’t realize my fashion choices were that interesting,” Steve scoffs. “Are you guys gonna play tonight, or not? Some of you do still have a curfew, and I’m not fielding angry parent calls again.”

This gets everyone back in motion, the group trickling out of the foyer and through the living area to get to the dining room. Gareth is the last one to go, bouncing his eyebrows and grinning at Eddie, who gives him an entirely ineffectual shove and sends him laughing out of the room.

And then it’s just Eddie and Steve.

“I really do like the shirt,” Steve says, hoping to fill the silence before it curdles awkwardly between them. “It’s comfy.”

Eddie smiles, different from the sharp one he’d pulled out a moment ago, now amused and fond and much more real. “It’s a good look for you,” he says, looking Steve up and down, and– that.

That had been the reaction Steve had been hoping for when he’d first put it on.

Maybe he had come on a little too strong at first. Maybe Eddie had just needed time. But whatever had happened, Eddie seems to be fully on board now.

“It’s definitely growing on me,” Steve says. “But I’m kind of getting the feeling that you like it more.”

“Guilty,” Eddie admits, with remarkably little guilt.

But when he steps forward, closing in on Steve’s space, the hand he raises is hesitant. Steve doesn’t move, tries very hard to broadcast that he is very alright with this, and smiles when Eddie finally brushes his fingers along the line of Steve’s collar.

“What can I say? I like seeing a little me on you,” Eddie says.

Steve reaches up to tug at the scarf, still tied around Eddie’s neck. “I think I know the feeling,” he says. “But you should let me take these for you. You have to be melting by now.”

“We don’t all run hot, Harrington,” Eddie grumbles, even as he’s unwrapping the scarf. “I even dressed in an extra layer tonight.”

Steve is about to ask Eddie what the hell he’s talking about when Eddie unzips his jacket in one decisive motion and reveals– Steve’s sweater. The one Eddie had accidentally(?) walked out with last week.

He’s wearing it under his jacket.

It looks good on him, a bright splash of blue-green where there are usually only more subdued shades, and Steve can only take Eddie’s jacket with automatically curling fingers as it’s pressed into his hand.

“I’ve been wondering if you were going to bring that back,” Steve finally says. “It’s one of my favorites.”

There’s a moment of flusterment before Eddie smirks at Steve. “You mean you didn’t want me to keep it? You seemed so worried about how cold I’ve been,” he says. “And you did throw it at me.”

It’s Steve’s turn to flush under Eddie’s words. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect you to run off with it.”

Eddie bites his lip. “Okay, yeah, I might’ve… panicked. A little bit,” he admits. “I wasn’t really expecting to, uh. To get what I wanted. Wasn’t sure what to do with it.”

Alright– alright, fine. Steve concedes. They might have to actually talk about it. Just a little.

“You don’t have to do anything with it. You’re not obligated,” Steve says. “But it’s there for you, whenever you want it. If you do still want it.”

Eddie’s eyes meet Steve’s, dark and sincere. “I really, really do. Didn’t mean to make you doubt.”

The silence sits softly between them this time, filled with a smiling kind of certainty. Steve isn’t particularly worried about it becoming awkward, but he finds he can’t help but tease, “So do I get my sweater back, or what?”

“Well, it is kind of warm, now that I’m inside. I guess I should give it back,” Eddie says.

He takes a step back from Steve and promptly whips the sweater off, rucking up the Hellfire shirt he’s wearing underneath and revealing a stretch of lean stomach before he pulls the hem of the t-shirt back down and tosses the sweater at Steve.

“That’s better,” Eddie declares. “I can go get the game started now.”

The teasing glint in Eddie’s eye as he turns away is all Steve needs to dump the clothes in his arms onto the side table and reach out to catch Eddie around the waist.

“Nope, not yet,” Steve says, pulling Eddie back towards him.

Eddie starts to speak, maybe to question him, probably to tease him, but Steve thinks they’ve waited long enough. With one hand still resting on Eddie’s waist, Steve brings his other up to cup his cheek, and leans in.

He can’t say who really initiates it, because Eddie meets him halfway and is kissing him back with equal fervor; he’s clearly recovered from the chill he’d been bothered by earlier, because his lips are warm and inviting against Steve’s.

They don’t stop until they stumble into the hall table, their surroundings having momentarily melted away into unimportant background fuzz.

“Figured I should really thank you for the shirt,” Steve barely pulls away enough to murmur against Eddie’s growing smile. “I thought about crocheting you a hat, but I think this is probably better.”

“Definitely better. But you know, I’ll have to reciprocate in kind.” Eddie shakes his head with the fakest look of regret Steve’s ever seen. “Shit, Steve, if I keep thanking you and you keep thanking me, we might be at this a while.”

Steve laughs, a small breath of amusement as he tilts his head to greet Eddie’s next kiss. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Ao3]

-

First, I’d like to thank @theysherobinbuckley for putting the idea of Steve, Joyce, and El having a crochet circle into my head. It was something I never knew I needed until I saw their tags

Second: Tag List. I hope I caught everyone, I am very sorry if I missed you, though!

  @infinitetrashbag, @unclewaynemunson, @thehumblefigtree, @courtjestermunson, @tillystealeaves, @darkwitchoferie, @phantypurple, @ceaselessly-watching, @annabell257, @momotonescreaming, @silentiumdelirium, @gamerdano, @panicatthediaz, @bejeweledbaby, @strawberryspence, @stevesbipanic, @henderdads @cuips-not-cute, @silversnaffles, @thegingervulcan, @cr0w-culture, @gamerdano, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @mightbeasleep, @tpwkweasley7, @sharkruption, @bye-zai, @paperbackribs, @stitchinaride, @cookies-and-doom, @maya-custodios-dionach, @twopenguinsunderatrenchcoat, @freddykicksasses, @flustratedcas, @marivictal

[shuastruck]

SIMP NOTES

seven. (bonus) !!! buy one get one free

previous || masterlist || next

PAIRING || lee chan x female reader

GENRES || fluff, strangers to lovers, college au, humour, love triangle, angst

SUMMARY || lee chan, college's critically acclaimed and certified (read: self-proclaimed) cupid was a hundred percent sure that his guide to love manual aka the simp notes worked just perfectly fine, seeing the number of campus couples he had managed to get together. until you came up with your complex romantic problem and chan finds his trustworthy notes betraying him, especially when he begins to fall for you.

or, in which, chan never thought he would be following his own simp notes to win over you.

WARNINGS || none

A/N || wish there were more men like chan out there TT. also sorry for the late update we had club auditions on sat and sun and project work until friday so even tho i was done with the chapter before i didn't get time to upload it. on the bright side, it was my bday yesterday (y'all better wish me) and i finally made it to my music club!(perks of playing violin)

if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask!

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!  

© 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. Most of these shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

Another great batch of episodes this week, as Kasuga and Nomoto settled into dating life, all the gals got together for various food related events, and Nagumo began seeking treatment for her eating disorder. This show is just always so compassionate with its characters, and manages to find interesting conflicts without going for high drama. I am very much enjoying seeing Kasuga and Nomoto figure out how their relationship should look now that they're dating and also how to communicate and respect each other as they make decisions. Kasuga's tendency to let Nomoto steamroll her feels harmless when it's about picking fruit or vegetables, but it won't be when it comes to making decisions about where they live and how to set up their home, so it's great they're addressing it early. It's also awesome to see them expand their circle of friends and deepen their bonds with Yako and Nagumo--I was high key jealous of the curry and s'mores parties. And Nagumo just has my whole heart. When she expressed profound relief at learning there is a name for her illness and ways to treat it, my mind immediately jumped to Rachel Bloom. Looking forward to her healing. I can't believe there is only one more batch of episodes coming, love and gratitude to @furritsubs!

Chaser Game W

I’ll keep this brief. This show was a mess, and not even in a fun way because unfortunately it was also extremely misogynistic. @twig-tea covered the major issues well in her post. Wild that this show aired simultaneously with TsukuTabe, what a dichotomy.

My Strawberry Film

This one is really not grabbing me. It feels kind of slow and muted and uncertain about what it's doing. I am not finding the mystery or the love rhombus compelling, and this week's focus on Hikaru's infatuation with Minami had me yawning and picking up my phone a lot. But it's early, I am hopeful it will pick up some steam.

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

This was a cute episode about Sakae and Soga getting past their initial awkwardness, learning how to communicate with each other, and moving into a more intimate phase of their relationship, and I think I would have loved it if we'd gotten it two weeks ago. This should have been the episode that followed their initial confessions, but instead the show did a two week diversion into love triangle nonsense, and unfortunately, I think it really threw off the pacing and the connection to these characters for me. It just feels too late in the show for this relationship to still feel so new. We haven't had time to settle in with them as a couple, or for them to develop a strong foundation to make us root for them to overcome the coming obstacles in the final arc. Still, this episode had some delightful scenes--Soga finally paying a visit to the sauna was my personal fav, and I also enjoyed the metaphor of Sakae literally catching Soga's love (and knowing @bengiyo would lose it over another important SPORTS moment in bl). This is a show I really want to love, but something just isn't connecting.

Perfect Propose

I love this final episode and I love this show. Hiro quit his job, Kai resolved things with the shop owner and his son, and they finally got on the same page about their relationship and made out about it. 10/10 no notes for this finale. It was lovely to see Hiro finish his project and make a decision to quit the daily grind--I loved, too, that he is still in touch with his former colleagues--and we saw the change in him so quickly. He looked happier, lighter, brighter. His skin was cleared and his crops were watered! And Kai got to have his moment of catharsis too, sharing his fear that he is a burden on others and having Hiro affirm for him that he wants him in his life and he's a help, not a burden. And I loved that we got all that plus a great kiss, a bed scene (with a very cute leg cramp diversion) and a small peek at their new domestic life together. This show makes me happy and it will definitely be one I return to for rewatches.

Ossan's Love Returns

I'm of two minds on this finale. On the one hand, I really loved it as a single episode of the show, was happy with where all the resolutions landed, and was left with a very warm feeling toward the show overall. The cherry blossom scene especially really got me right in the feels; I've loved the progression of Maki and Haruta's relationship this season and I love the way they talk to each other. They have earned themselves a spot on my list of favorite drama couples who I actually believe are going to stay together. I also loved everything about the big chaotic group scene and all these characters coming together to pour love on Haruta; it felt earned after a season of him knocking himself out for all his loved ones. The end joke with Chief moving in next door, and getting a final Maki/Kurosawa battle, was *chef's kiss*. And Takegawa's perfect life partner being a cat? 10/10 no notes. I will be clutching my aroace Takegawa read tightly to my bosom.

On the other hand, the episode reinforced for me that the way we got to a lot of these resolutions didn't feel quite right. In particular, I don't think the way Kurosawa's health scare played out across the back half of the season worked, and I'm not too pleased about spending three episodes in a downbeat, tragic mode for the sake of a simple pun joke. I think the whole plot would have landed a lot better for me if the audience was let in on Kurosawa's mistake at the start and the tone of his overwrought goodbyes was farcical all the way through. Not only would that have maintained the comedic tone of the show, but we could have used that story time to better seed some of the themes of this episode with Haruta's crisis of confidence and yearning for family. I'm pretty much agnostic on Kiku and Izumi; they never sold me on that pairing but I wasn't mad about their ending.

Overall, I am very glad I jumped into this show and enjoyed the watch experience a lot, despite my quibbles with some of the overarching writing choices. The cast is amazing and all the characters make me smile. If they make another season, I'll be watching!

Bonus: Josi teki Saikatsu

I finally watched this drama this week--I held out for awhile hoping to find it in better quality, but no dice, it's 480p in the grey--and despite the potato lens I loved it so much. This is the story of Miki, a transfemme lesbian, just trying to live her life in the way she wants, and all the barriers she comes up against in that pursuit. Our story begins when her childhood friend, Goto, comes looking for his old pal in a moment of desperation and is stunned to see how she's changed. The show is only four short episodes, but they manage to paint a full picture of Miki's life at home, at work, with friends and lovers, and with her estranged family, and show us how she became who she is. Miki is whip smart and perceptive and generous, but also wary of trusting anyone after she's been let down by so many loved ones. I love her so much, and you will too. This story was written by a trans woman and it shows! Brave the 480p and check it out.