#and then a (not so) secret thing for Thursdays that you can probably guess

[gazihsah]

「together we wait for space」

#ffxiv #ff14 #viera #elezen #magnus fythe #estinien #GPOSERS #Unsundered Scales #Estinien Sunday #SOOO I mentioned this on the bird app but i'm gonna push myself to do a ship post for Magnus and Estinien on Sundays #and then a (not so) secret thing for Thursdays that you can probably guess #Madeon - Innocence (feat. Aquilo)

[fairyofshampgyu]

Now Live ! Stream: 3

Genre: smut, camboy au, college au, crack

Pairing: camboy! Beomgyu x gn reader (afab when smut)

Warnings: camboy, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, solo beomgyu, jerking off, humping

Synopsis: Every Thursday night at 8pm, you tune into your favourite camboy: Angel313. What you don’t know is he even goes to the same uni as you, is in the same class as you and is Choi Beomgyu, the campus fuckboy but will you keep his secret?

Word count: 2.2k

You’d been meeting up with beomgyu a fair amount now, going to each other’s dorms or library to sort out the christmas performance. You’d finally chosen 5 songs to arrange and had already finished arranging 3 of them. You both would arrange a song each and then show it to the other for feedback and then work on it together.

It’s not that horrendous working with him surprisingly. And you’d thought he’d be an actual ass but he hasn’t. He was actually pretty quiet and not that talkative most of the time. It seems that even Beomgyu realises the opportunity to be the only two picked in the music department isn’t something to be taken lightly and you guys really had to live to expectations or raise the bar higher this christmas concert because you remember all the previous years before and they were always so amazing.

Beomgyu’s not bad at all at music like how you thought he was. You’re beginning to understand why your professor chose him as well. Honestly, you’re impressed. You almost feel bad for making assumptions about him. He still is definitely the campus playboy though, flirting incessantly with people and even jokingly to you at times to which you completely dismiss, having people gushing and whispering and giggling about him whenever you guys are at the library and sometimes he can’t meet up with you because he has numerous parties to attend and get drunk and fuck people at.

He can be a bit dense at times but he isn’t all that bad. He’s tolerable. It’s clear one thing he’s good at and passionate about is music. And so are you. And so with that, you can get along with him on a surface level in the small time you’ll be working together. After that, you won’t need to talk to him again.

You’re currently on the way to beomgyu’s dorm, needing to know his opinion on the brass section of a part of one of the Christmas songs you’ve arranged. Arranging isn’t too hard and doesn’t take that long since you’re not necessarily composing a whole new song but you want even the most famous and basic Christmas songs to have a really unique style and so you’ve been changing up lots of parts and adding more instruments, changing chords and keys, reharmonising and adding virtuosic solos that didn’t already exist or extending and cutting short on them.

And right now, you weren’t quite sure if the brass section worked, needing the critique of your partner. Laptop in hand with your music software that’s saved your life countless of times since first year for your compositions and made you want to smash your whole laptop and rip out your hair, ready and open.

Just at that moment, you get a notification that Angel313 was going live. It wasn’t his usual time but you’re guessing he decided to do a surprise/bonus one this week. No one was around whilst you walked and if you put your headphones in? You’ll just watch the very first few minutes whilst you make your way to Beomgyu’s dorm. No harm. Then you’ll stop.

Today, he’s humping his bed, brutally and un-rhythmically. Rutting against the sheets like a desperate puppy in heat, one hand tightly gripping and fisting at his sheets, and the other on his mouth, trying to conceal the noises he’s making, whimpering adorably, prettiest moans coming out of him. The sight making you want to run back home so you could enjoy it properly. You loved the sounds he makes. You could probably get off to just that. His bed seems a little familiar though but you can’t put your finger on it. It looks like just another university dorm or something to be honest.

You’ve made your way to Beomgyu’s dorm, knocking on his door, still watching the live from your phone. You hear a knock on the live too. That’s funny. You knock again since you don’t think he heard you the first time and you hear the exact same sound of a knock from the live again. That’s quite strange. You press your ears to the door trying to make out any sound and that’s when you hear it, moaning. The same ones coming from your headphones from Angel’s live. Your eyes go wide in shock. From the second knock on Angel’s live, their own eyes widen and they hurriedly switch the live off. You can hear beomgyu shout from the door “in a minute!” immediately after Angel stopped. He sounds distressed. He also sounds exactly like Angel’s voice.

But this is all just a really funny coincidence right now. You’re not even sure what Beomgyu’s actually doing behind the door. He could be doing anything. It’s just a weird coincidence. How could Beomgyu and Angel be the same? That’s not possible at all and makes absolutely no sense. They’re both completely opposite people. Out of everyone in the whole world, both of them would be the least you’d expect. It makes you laugh because of how outrageous it is. Why would you ever think that? It’s a coincidence. Yeah, yeah.

Beomgyu finally opens his door for you, looking like he ran a marathon.

“Y/n?”

“Hey-” That’s when you see it at the back in a corner stuffed with other piles of clothes, pink and white thigh highs. Identical to the ones Angel wears. But maybe that’s just someone’s he’d fucked recently and they accidentally left it there. Then beomgyu reaches his hand up to lean higher on his door frame, attempting to be nonchalant but in doing so, and from the already quite short shirt he was wearing, you have a clear view of beomgyu’s stomach. It had a pink piercing. Identical to the one Angel has.

You don’t have anymore excuses. It’s beginning to make sense yet absolutely no sense in your brain, gears turning in your head, about to drop your laptop in shock on the floor but you regain some sort of conscience. The hair, saying he’s not free Thursday nights, the piercing, the thigh highs, his voice, even his physique you realised, were the same.

“Y-you’re-you’re…Angel???!!!”

And then you zoom out and make a quick exit with a horrified expression. Beomgyu equally as horrified.

Fuck.

Beomgyu is absolutely fucked. He’s done for. You saw. You fucking saw. You know. You know he’s a camboy now. And you’ll tell everyone and everyone in the whole universe will know about it. What will happen to him?! Everyone on campus will ridicule him, especially with his ‘reputation’ to ‘uphold.’ He may as well start digging his grave now whilst he still has the chance.

But how did you even know? Sure, he didn’t hide his thigh highs that well he figures, just trying to stuff them anywhere and also the nearest shirt to put fast just so happened to be quite cropped so you could see his piercing. He curses that shirt. He doesn’t even know why he still has it. It’s ugly. But even then, that didn’t give away he was a camboy! The only way you could figure it out is if you watched him and he highly doubted that. So how did you figure it out? He’s been constantly freaking out about it, the essay he hasn’t done due in a few hours not even crossing his mind once.

He’d tried looking all over the place for you but you’ve been avoiding him like the plague, only increasing and adding on to his fear day by day. Did you think he was a freak now? It kind of hurt. How many people had you already told? You’d think it’d be easy to get to you if you’re both in the same class but apparently not. Beomgyu is so stressed. By now you could have told your whole music class.

You sigh as you applied to yet another job this week. Why was finding a job so hard? You didn’t even care at all what it’d be, you just need some money. You are broke. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent most of your student loan on eating out pretty much every day at overly priced restaurants with your friends. But you’re a foodie.

You think back on a few days ago when you found out Beomgyu was actually Angel313, you can’t get it out of your mind. It just feels so wrong. For the longest time, you watched every one of his streams, completely infatuated. You always wondered who he actually was and what he looked like. Now that you know, you wish you didn’t. To think that he actually was in the same city, in the same university as you, taking the same major and someone you talked to just seems so impossible. Really, what a small world. And for them to be the choi beomgyu?! Goes to show really just how little you know of people on screens.

You still get notifications of whenever he’s live but it feels so incredibly wrong to watch them. You could never watch them again. You feel kinda disgusting, knowing you’ve watched beomgyu jerk off and jerked off to it as well multiple times. You can’t look him in the eyes knowing you did that. You haven’t talked to him since, avoiding him at all costs, sitting far, far away in the lecture room and then making a speedy beeline to the exit before he even has the chance, avoiding him around campus as well and ignoring the texts he sent you. He must think you’re an actual pervert or something. You don’t know how on earth you’re supposed to arrange and direct this whole Christmas performance yourself but you’ll try.

It seems the universe is not in your favour however because whilst you were in the library, searching for a book your professor recommended, the place where you least expected beomgyu to step foot in and so felt less of the need to be wary, he happened to be there. You were just about to pick up the book off the shelf since you finally found it, but someone else swipes the book off you before you can. Beomgyu. And then he’s blocking your way of escaping, forcing you into a corner.

“Y/n! Please! Just listen to me! We need to talk!” He pleads.

It’s not like you can really run away now, pent up thoughts bursting out. “I just-HOW are you Angel313?! I don’t get it at all! You’re completely different. You once knocked someone up and forced them to get an abortion! You’re literally a-a….manwhore!”

“Excuse me…?”

“Yeah! You’re literally just another dumb fuckboy who drops people as soon as you’re done with them! You’ve probably knocked so many people up! You probably have so many like….like STDs!”

“That’s not even possible!”

“Yeah? Why isn’t it?!” You cross your arms.

“Because! B-because…-I AM A VIRGIN!!” Beomgyu’s eyes go wide and his hands smack his mouth. He cannot believe he actually just admitted that.

“WHAT?”

The librarian restocking books gives you both an appalled and scarred look, not even bothering to tell you to be quiet, scurrying away. Beomgyu puts his head in his hands in humiliation, ears turning red at that.

“What?!” You whisper shout. “That’s probably the biggest lie of the century.”

“I’m being serious…I’ve never had sex…” He winces, embarrassed at his own words.

“But—but you’re literally known just for that. Even I have seen you with multiple people at parties!”

“Making out and flirting with people are different things! I’ve done some stuff! But I’ve never…fucked anyone…”

He’s supposed to be the notorious player on your campus and an absolute douchebag to everyone he came in contact with, hated by many but also wanted and wanted to be fucked by many. But the boy who was shying under your gaze right now did not fit that description at all.

“I genuinely cannot believe this…”

“Look, you can’t-you really, really can’t tell anyone that I’m,” His voice lowers, “a camboy! No one else can know. I’ll do anything, anything you ask just please don’t tell anyone! My life would be ruined!”

Now, you’re not an asshole. You weren’t planning on telling anyone he was a camboy at all. You know people aren’t that accepting of anything to do with sex work. He’d most likely get humiliated. He might not even be able to get a job since people care so much for stuff like that for some reason. You’re sure everyone would go mad especially if they found out Choi Beomgyu was a camboy. But him saying he’d do anything if you didn’t reveal his little secret intrigued you so much so, that he didn’t need to know you were never going to tell anyone in the first place.

“I want in.”

“Huh?”

“Your camboy business. I want to be a partner. I’ll be your manager, I’ll help you film stuff and get more money. As long as I’m getting some too.”

Please actually reblog and comment if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 🤨👎Feedback is always appreciated it makes me happy :)

Taglist: @pogigyu @denleave1088 @mashimarshmello @stellz581 @cha0thicpisces @soobsfairy444 @lcvetyvn @1ummcalhoody6 @imrllytootiredforthis @bjttersweets @aliceoracleollormusic @yongboksgf @daniarafid @nyanggk @aggiebackstage​ @openingssequence @qluvrv​ @be0mflwr​ @shoooobin​ @beomgewwwwww @dickdeprived @lilactangerine @kissmeow @katsukeis @shutupheathersorryheatherr @lcvesickgyuzz @mastergibbs93 @tae-ology @popimagines @lynanist @guavagyu @soobhns @mikeeel @multistansimp4life @goquokka @scarfac3 @disneygirl712

Comment to be added to the taglist !!

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #sub!idol #sub!beomgyu #dom!reader #txt scenarios #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt imagines #sub txt #kpop smut #choi beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #txt reactions #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu fic

[possibilistfanfiction]

not truly a prompt but would love some more outside perspective for surgeons au

‘dr. v, hey, what’s up?’ silva says, leaning against the doorframe of the supply closet with far too much aplomb for someone who spilled chili all over himself in the cafeteria — in front of beatrice, who had, horrifyingly, just rolled her eyes with a smile — merely an hour ago.

‘silva.’

you’re a little proud when dr. silva — usually infuriatingly unflappable — gulps. ‘hey, so, uh, well. i’m saying this in confidence.’

you resist the urge to just walk past her, because you definitely could, and you’re way too busy, but she’s unfortunately actually a great intern, switched to your service after beatrice told chief superion they had feelings for each other. which, well — it seems serious, and dr. silva has made beatrice, your best friend — your sister — happy, happier than you’ve ever seen her, so you’ve come to terms with the fact that ava silva is probably going to be in your life for a long time now.

‘go on,’ you say.

ava nods, steps into the supply closet and closes the door, glancing behind him quickly. 

‘the coast is clear, for whatever secret you’re about to divulge that i’m sure i won’t want to know.’ you know the coast is clear because you come into this particular supply closet to catch your breath when days are chaotic and overwhelming, to, on occasion, shed a tear or two over a bad outcome or, even more embarrassingly, a great outcome, too much family thanks sent your way. 

dr. silva isn’t deterred at all. ‘okay. um. beatrice cried herself to sleep last night. and last thursday night too. i know she doesn’t want me to know, or i guess, she probably doesn’t, but, like, i care about her, a lot, and i lov— ‘ ava shakes his head, a little panicked, but then soldiers on. ‘do you know why? is there anything i can do?’

beatrice, you are well aware of, has therapy every thursday, barring emergencies she can’t get out of. you also know, from years and years of watching her hold feelings in for days, weeks even, until she explodes a little, that beatrice is a slow processor, someone who needs her time to understand what she’s feeling. before she met ava, you’d text her every thursday, after she’d gone to the dojo or climbed or run, and you’d read a new study together (not sworn to secrecy) or catch up on love island (sworn to absolute secrecy). 

but now there’s dr. silva — ava; there’s someone for beatrice to be held by, someone to warm the cool side of the bed. you can understand from when you first started dating camila, the sheer panic that she would realize you needed things, the sheer panic that you needed her, that beatrice doesn’t want to share with ava whatever was difficult or sad or hard to process. beatrice is excellent at most things, including kindness, and especially including steadiness, and you know, no matter how open she is in therapy, that what she grew up having shoved down her throat is not an easy thing to overcome. 

‘she has therapy, thursday morning, every week if she can make it.’ maybe beatrice would be mad at you, but you don’t think so — sometimes it’s easier to have help, anyway. 

‘oh,’ dr. silva says, their shoulders relaxing immediately. ‘well that makes a ton of sense. i was worried it was my cooking or taste in music or something.’

‘i’m sure those things don’t help.’

she rolls her eyes. ‘thanks for telling me.’ thanks for knowing beatrice so well; thanks for loving her too goes unspoken; to dr. silva’s credit, she does seem to understand that there are lines too tender for her to cross.

you nod, just once, and motion toward the door. dr. silva steps aside, a little hurried, trying to be polite — for once.

‘i need post-ops on mr. williams, and then we have a consult with dr. masters.’

‘sexy.’

‘i can get you fired, you know.’

dr. silva’s grin, under the florescent lights in the hallway, is almost rakish. ‘i do know that, and i also know you wouldn’t.’

‘the next abscess i see is yours.’

ava just laughs.

/

beatrice slips into the supply closet silently, just behind you, a week later.

‘jesus,’ you grumble. ‘i’ve got to find a new spot.’

she’s undeterred, wearing a fleece over her scrubs and a bright orange fisherman’s beanie — silva’s undoubtedly; beatrice would never buy anything bright orange herself — a neat canvas tote from her favorite coffee shop on her shoulder — tired, and on her way out. ‘did you tell ava i had therapy on thursdays.’

‘well, you do.’

she clenches her jaw, seems to toy with what she wants to say. ‘thank you,’ she settles on, surprisingly but also not: beatrice is kind, above all else; kinder than you ever expect. 

‘i apologize,’ you find yourself offering, ‘if i overstepped.’

she shakes her head. ‘it’s — was it hard for you?’

‘camila?’

she sags back against the closed door. ‘letting someone in, like that.’

‘well, i certainly didn’t choose ava.’

beatrice laughs, a little, but, ‘i don’t feel as if i had much of a choice. he’s, just, spectacular.’

you refrain from saying anything mean; there will be time enough, years and years and years of it if beatrice has any say. ‘he took care of you?’

‘as much as i let her.’

you have to smile, then; there are a handful of times you’ve been in charge of taking care of beatrice: after her parents visit, each time, especially in college, tears and hours of sparring; after she had top surgery, helping her take a bath and deal with her drains; once when she got food poisoning from a sketchy burger place she resolutely loved. ‘no small task.’

‘we’ve got to get better at that, don’t we?’

’speak for yourself. i’m a seasoned professional.’

‘ah yes, you, remarkably comfortable accepting affection and care. since the moment we met.’

you laugh; you can’t help yourself. ‘you’re happy?’

‘beyond.’

’sure you couldn’t pick someone less… ava?’

beatrice elbows you but it’s lacking any malice. you sling an arm around her shoulders, as close to a hug as you’d get under normal circumstances, especially at work. ‘you know,’ she says, ‘everyone knows you come in here to decompress. you’re not stealthy.’

you shrug. ‘intimidating, then. no one interrupts me.’

she lets you have it with just a small smile, kind once again, and makes to slip out the door. ‘i’ll leave you to it then.’

‘sure.’

‘drinks later when you get off? perhaps just the two of us?’ a measure of care you’ve never been brave enough to offer but are always grateful to accept — your oldest friend.

‘i would really like that, beatrice.’

she nods. ‘text me when you’re done.’

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #butch bea 🥺🫡 #lilith she is so much i Love writing her lol

[pikapeppa]

15 questions for 15 friends

Tagged by @elveny and @johaerys-writes -- thank you, my loves!

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? My mom. Apparently my dad really wanted to name me after my mom and she was like "ugh really fine" LOL. My dad is also named after his dad, who was named after his dad... REAL ORIGINAL. This is going to sound like a total humblebrag, but my mom and I are both published academic authors, so we have to use our middle initials to distinguish who published what 🙃

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Probably in therapy last Thursday LOL. Though I got a little prickly-eyed earlier this week watching the episode of ATLA where Zuko and Aang go on their lifechanging field trip to the Sun Warriors' secret village 😂❤

DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Nope! Childless by choice.

WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED? I played T-ball when I was 5 or 6 (hated it, cried so much that my parents pulled me out LMAO) and I was on the volleyball team in Grade 6. I'm left-handed and I had a habit of serving into the wall, unfortunately, and the habit got worse when I was nervous. During one game, they took pity on me so much that they paused the game until I got the ball over the net. I was fucking humiliated and have never played a team sport since then. 🤣💀 Re: other physical activities, I like dancing! I've taken a ton of different kinds of dance classes including swing, salsa, bellydancing, and Bollywood dancing, and loved all of them!

DO YOU USE SARCASM? No. Me? Never. 🙃🤣 Forreal though yes. All the time.

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Uh...! I don't know if there's any one specific thing? I usually take in an "overall impression" of appearance. Vague, but that's all I've got. If the question was "what's the first thing you notice in people you're attracted to", that might be a different story 🤣

WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR? Brown.

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? I am going to copy Johaerys's answer and say it doesn't matter to me, as long as the story was good. But also, who says scary movies/horror media can't have happy endings?? 🤣Haunting of Hill House, anyone? (Bittersweet, maybe, but it counts as happy to me!)

ANY TALENTS? Would it be wretched if I said I feel like writing might be a talent? Whatever, I'm saying it. 🤣😅

WHERE WERE YOU BORN? In a hospital in the same city where I currently live! Which I will chose not to reveal openly! 🤣

WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES? Writing! It takes up a solid 75-90% of my free time. Also gaming (which I might count into the writing time since it often becomes Research™ for the writing 🤣). I also enjoy baking and cooking, though I don't know that I'd count those as hobbies since they're necessary ADLs?

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? A cat named Meeko. She is my daemon. We can never be apart when I am home. Case in point, a photo taken in real-time while completing this quiz:

HOW TALL ARE YOU? 5'3".

FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL? Uhhh... what level of school are we talking here? In undergrad, I took an incredible linguistics/history course about writing systems, and that was probably my favourite class ever. I took a course during undergrad about different schools of psychotherapy that was pretty damned influential too.

DREAM JOB? I also loved Johaerys's answer here: "I don't think there's any sort of job anyone could do in this capitalist hellscape we're all currently living in that would be enjoyable enough to make up for, well... living in a capitalist hellscape." I'm lucky enough to work in the public healthcare system so I'm pretty safe from the worst of capitalism, I guess, though my job (speech-language pathologist) is one I chose more for practicality (certainty of employment) than because I was really passionate about it. If I could do something else and not have to worry about money, I would either want to be a fiction editor, or a sex therapist.

Tagging forward to @ranaspkillnarieth @iamcayc @heroofshield @fantasy-girl974 @hellas-himself @midnightacrobat @alyssalenko @vorchagirl @elinorbard @stuffforthestash @mwasaw @lordofthenerds97 @y0ureviltwin @ladyofthelake91 @perhapsrampancy @cha-mij and genuinely, anyone else who wants to share!!! Tag me so I can spy on your life! 🤣❤

#tag meme #about me #tumblr game

[perexcri]

there’s nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you - [byler week - day 5]

yeah so i thought this fit the secret identities thing until i wrote it and realized it uhh. isn’t quite that. so enjoy whatever this is i guess - lots of miscommunication and a fun set-up for potential enemies to lovers

also it’s my personal headcanon that Will is a music snob, so if you don’t like that then uh,,,,i guess skip this one idk

title from: wilson (expensive mistakes) by fall out boy

dedicated to: the listening party for fall out boy’s new album that i went to last week in a city an hour away from me; i came up with this stupid idea on the drive there! indie record store in [city redacted], you were very nice, and thank you for having a decent selection of poetry i could pick from :]

Don’t ask Will how this ended up being his job, because he honestly doesn’t know. One day, they had a meeting for the university’s queer artists’ zine where he was complaining about everyone’s responses to the new U2 album (yes, it sounds different from other U2 albums, but obviously if you look at the lyrical and metatextual themes of Achtung Baby, it’s still very much U2), and then BAM–suddenly he’s in charge of doing the cover art for the zine and writing music reviews.

Sure, he could probably turn it down, but nobody else will take the job.

Also, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t do it right, because, as much as he loves this group, their music tastes are…well…not everybody has an older brother like Jonathan Byers who makes sure they grow up with proper music opinions.

So, if anything, Will does this to keep the spirit of reviewing and recommending underground artists in New York City alive for the zine, and also because he doesn’t think anybody else could do it justice, no offense to them.

But Will is loathing this job for their upcoming edition. He’s sitting in that weird liminal time between class periods where people are in the chaotic throes of rushing around or throwing their notebooks open to prepare for the lecture; his elbows are pressed into the desk that’s just a little too small, and his head is in his hands. He’s staring down at the one submission he’s been putting off for precisely three semesters, because the president of the zine said it needed to be done before they moved on to new submissions, so could you please just lower your standards for one night and go listen to them play so you can write the damn review?

The Fellowship of the Ring, the submission card reads in faded pencil. Scratched under it in the slightly-fresher ink of the zine’s president’s pen, it reads: Thursday - The Purple Hall - 8 PM.

And, God, Will wishes this show was just gonna be a live reading of the Tolkein book. It would be so much better than what he knows it actually is.

The Fellowship of the Ring is a local, up-and-coming act in the underground venues of the greater New York City area that everybody loves because they sound like Nirvana and, you guessed it, throw out Tolkein references like they’re Led Zeppelin. They’re huge on college campuses, where students pass around live-recorded tapes of their supposedly-legendary performances all the time, gushing about how even the bass sounds, the peeling shrieks of guitars, the way the vocalist wavers between grumbles and ethereal, falsetto howls. They even gush about the lyrics and how they truly capture the experiences of Western youth in these first few years of the new decade: malaise, boredom, this sense that there is no great struggle for the future left for them, only an endless drowning in comfortable excess.

Will had even seen a girl with the band’s logo tattooed on her shoulder.

Which is…fine. He guesses.

If you like shitty music, that is.

See, that’s the fundamental problem here: Will likes doing these silly little reviews for live music around New York because half the time, the music is passably decent, and even if that doesn’t work, the lyrics can make up for it. There’s so much creativity in the air, and people are doing so much with it.

Not The Fellowship of the Ring, though.

Where everybody else sees innovation, Will sees reductivity; where everybody screams about the charm of the lyrics and the pop culture references they sneak in, Will sees a demeaning pandering to an audience. Every single time he has been subjected to the squawks and out-of-tune guitars of The Fellowship, he’s spent his time thinking he would be better off to save himself the time and just listen to Nirvana’s Nevermind for the millionth time, because that’s all The Fellowship’s trying to do, anyway, and at least then Will could listen to something good.

Yeah, Will hates The Fellowship of the Ring, and now he’s squeezing his temples so hard that the letters on the submission card are beginning to swim in his vision.

“Hey!”

Thankfully, Will is saved by his very friendly, incredibly good-looking neighbor in History of the American Constitution, Mike Wheeler.

“Hey!” he says, trying to gain back the energy that seeing The Fellowship’s submission card had unwittingly drained out of him.

And honestly, seeing that flash of Mike’s smile and how the fluorescents dance in his eyes, Will feels like he has enough energy to power the sun now, even if they are going to have to sit through yet another lecture about Article II–whatever the hell that means.

“What’s got you so down?” Mike asks, head tilted to the side, some of his hair tumbling into his eyes, and all Will wants to do is push it away–

But, no, he has to have a coherent conversation right now, so he shakes his head and tries his best to return Mike’s smile. “Oh, nothing…Just something for that zine I work on.”

“Oh, yeah!” Mike snaps his fingers, causing some of the buttons on his jacket to rattle together. He always wears a leather jacket no matter the weather or the rest of his attire, and today, paired with plaid pajama bottoms, held-together-by-duct-tape converse, and a baggy Care Bears shirt, it shouldn’t work, but in Will’s eyes, it does. “I think I saw one of those around! I wanted to grab a copy, but somebody else did before I could get to it.”

“I can bring you a copy of the next issue,” Will says, then, remembering the task at hand, groans and puts his head back in his hands. “That is, if I even survive it.”

“What, are they making you skip classes for it?”

“No, worse: they’re making me listen to a band I hate.”

Mike winces. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“That sucks.”

“Right?”

“Can’t you just, like…push it off?”

“I did. For three semesters.” The professor wanders in with a mumbled greeting and a steaming cup of coffee in hand, and Will lowers his voice in anticipation of the lecture beginning. “That’s why I have to do it now.”

“Maybe it would help if somebody went with you?”

Despite having flirted with each other mercilessly all semester during this one shared class of theirs, they haven’t hung out much outside of it, so to be faced with the possibility of something that could potentially be labeled as a date between them is shocking. For a moment, Will can forget about the future torment awaiting him Thursday evening at The Purple Hall’s listening stage, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, having somebody to talk to over the drone of the lazily-played guitars could make the evening slightly more bearable.

“Yeah,” Will finally says, a grin stretching across his face. “Of course. Yeah, that’d be awesome!”

Mike returns the look twofold, and one of his legs begins to bounce. “Awesome! When is it?”

As the lecture begins, Will resorts to a torn piece of notebook paper, like he’s a kid passing notes in class again to survive the boredom. He scribbles The Purple Hall - Thursday 7 PM, then hands it to Mike, who responds with a quizzical look at the paper, scratches something out, and hands it back to Will.

The Purple Hall - Thursday 7 PM 6?

Will shoots him a thumbs up, prays it wasn’t too awkward, and then folds the sheet of paper up and sticks it in his pocket.

And if he carries it around there for the rest of the week, then that’s his business alone.

---

The pros: this is one of Will’s favorite music venues, there’s several bands to look forward to tonight, and Mike seems wholly invested in the idea of this being a date, if him leaning closer and the playful hand on Will’s knee mean anything.

The cons: Will has to listen to the fucking Fellowship of the Ring in approximately ten minutes.

He’s able to put the thoughts off for the first hour. After all, The Fellowship isn’t set to perform until 8–he and Mike had met at 6 as planned, and Will has spent the first hour and a half trying to be blissfully unaware of the torturous fate awaiting him.

Even as his skin begins to crawl at the thought of having to hear those plucky, out-of-tune guitars and the lead singer screeching about the Gulf War under the guise of Star Wars references, he does feel a little settled. Mike’s fingers are surprisingly warm, and the alcohol they’ve been nursing makes his chest glow with warmth. It’s easier to laugh, to be focused solely on Mike and these wonderful, looping conversations they’ve found themselves ensnared in.

“This one’s good!” Mike half-shouts over the drum solo of the current act, consisting of just a drummer and a bassist crooning over their heady rhythms. They’re called the Jazz Squares, or something like that. Whatever.

At least they’re not The Fellowship.

“The drink or the band?” Will queries. His own head’s spinning with the beer he’s been sipping on for the better part of an hour, and he already feels lightheaded, because he’s a lightweight, and Mike’s got something to do with these pulses of courage thumping in his chest, right?

“Both!” Mike takes another long sip from his Jolly-Rancher-blue mixer. Will had asked him what was in it earlier, and all Mike had responded with was Coconut-something and a whole lot of rum!

They’ve talked about so much already–their families, their majors, their hobbies. Mike comes here a lot, he reveals, and he mentions that he plays guitar, too. He keeps it a playful secret when Will asks for more information, though: how long have you played? Do you write, too? Are you in a band, because I could put you in the zine if you wanted–

It’s a surpriseee, Mike had drawled in response, a stupid grin twisting his mouth as his fingers had vacated Will’s knee momentarily just to ruffle through Will’s hair.

As the Jazz Squares’ set finally dies down to some spotty applause (this is more of an alternative scene, after all, but a gig is a gig), Will lets out a groan, melodramatically knocking his forehead into the table, and finally drags out his notebook.

“What’s that for?” Mike asks, eyebrows high on his forehead.

“For that review I have to do,” Will grumbles.

“But isn’t that act on in, like, two hours?”

Will blinks a couple of times. He supposes he hadn’t actually told Mike which group he was here for, but he thought the fact that he originally proposed a meet-up time of 7 would have communicated enough that it was somewhere around then. “Um, no? I didn’t say anything, I guess, but I think they’re up next.”

Mike’s fingers begin to nervously tap on what remains of his electric blue potion. As his and Will’s gazes snag together for several heady seconds, he purses his lips, then throws back the rest of his drink, swallowing the last of it in just a couple of gulps.

Will slowly draws his notebook out, flipping to the page he had specifically marked The Fellowship of the Ring with a disheartened, frighteningly life-like frowny face scrawled next to it. “Is something wrong?”

Mike drags his wrist across his mouth, smearing any remaining drops of blue onto his leather jacket’s sleeve. “So this band you hate that you have to review…It’s The Fellowship of the Ring?”

“Yeah.” Will taps the top of his paper. “I didn’t say anything, but…Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Um.”

Will quirks an eyebrow up. “I mean, do you like them? That’s fine, of course, I mean–people have different tastes and what-not. I’d just have to seriously question your judgment in all matters music-related, I guess.”

“Um,” Mike repeats, fingers now tapping a dangerously fast staccato against their bartop table. It makes the remaining beer in Will’s bottle slosh around. “Um…This is bad.”

“What? Are you a super fan or something?” Thanks to the alcohol, Will feels bold enough to scrunch his nose up with disgust. “I mean, fine, whatever. But seriously, if you want a second date, I’m gonna take you to a record store so you can hear some actually decent music. If you’re impressed by that fucking band’s reductive bullshit, you’ll be positively amazed by a group like The Clash or Smashing Pumpkins or–hell, even fucking U2–”

“Excuse me!” the MC calls over the mic; when the feedback whines, he takes a second to tap at the mic, then announces: “Calling everyone’s favorite up-and-coming group, The Fellowship of the Ring, for soundcheck–their set starts in five!”

The club erupts into raucous cheers. Will has to hide the involuntary groan of annoyance he lets out behind his hand.

Mike casts a nervous glance at Will, then pushes his chair out and looks like he’s going to walk away, the buttons on his jacket clicking together. He nearly trips over the saggy laces of his converse, and through the tears in his jeans, he almost looks like he’s shaking.

“Hey, wait!” Will says, reaching forward and grasping Mike’s wrist. It makes the other guy stop, a blush creeping up into his cheeks, and Will tries to push down his distaste for the band and lets out a sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry–I was being stupid. It’s just a band, after all. If you like them, that’s fine, and I will…” he swallows here, and it hurts, taking on this insurmountable task of trying to push his music-snob’s pride down. “I won’t make fun of you for it. I promise.”

Mike blinks a couple of times before a reassuring grin overtakes his features. “Uh…Nope. That’s okay, Will. It’s not for everyone. I wasn’t like…trying to run out on you or anything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m still gonna be here.”

“Then why are you getting up?”

Mike points at the stage, where a drummer and bassist are setting up their instruments, their eyes scanning the room in search of their infamous guitarist and singer. “Didn’t you hear? We have soundcheck. The set starts in five.”

Will slowly nods. “Yeah. Then the next act starts, and I have to scratch down whatever notes I can think of for them, and then we can get back to our date.”

Mike stares at him for several seconds.

And then it all catches up with Will.

“Oh, shit–”

Mike’s grin turns into something playful, his eyebrows shooting up beneath his bangs. “Can’t wait to read your official review of my fucking band’s reductive bullshit!” he says with a two-fingered salute, then spins around to make his way to the stage. He’s bathed in the dim lighting of the stage, hunching over his guitar the second he straps it around his chest, and Will wonders how somebody who was brave enough to wander around in a leather jacket and a fucking Care Bears shirt and look that good could be involved in a band that’s just–

This bad, Will finishes for himself as Mike strums his first cord, its electricity shaking the walls of the club, and he begins yet another signature Fellowship song that’s nothing more than various John Hughes and horror movie quotes juxtaposed over warring drums and guitars.

Of course Will would be stupid enough to fall for the lead singer of his most-hated band in the greater New York City area.

#byler #bylerweek2023 #ficlet #did not feel like messing around with html for line breaks today so sorry for the extra dashes :))) #also the will being a music snob thing is a headcanon so like #pls don't crucify me i just think it's a silly thing to write about #anyway #i think this could be secret identities if i'd been willing to commit more words and planning but i wasn't so <3

[queseraone]

Alright, positive, silly, happy fluff incoming...

-Pick a song you think would be Chenford's wedding song

-Assuming The Rookie is on the same timeline, how does Tim Bradford feel about Taylor Swift being at Football games?

-Where would Tim and Lucy go for their honeymoon?

-Knowing we were robbed of getting everyone's reactions to the secret dating era, who do you think would have had the best reaction? My money is on Angela, but you may have a different opinion.

-Do you think Tim picks out a ring for Lucy by himself, or enlists help?

-Do you think Lucy will move into Tim's place, or will they get a new place of their own?

-In the future, Lucy goes into labor with their first child. Who is Tim's first call to?

-We know Lucy has called Tim 'babe' a few times. What do you think Tim's pet name for Lucy would be?

-And, lastly...the most important question here!! Does Tim go with Lucy to see Barbie, or do the boys go see Oppenheimer and the girls see Barbie?

Sorry, this got way longer than I expected it to😅

Whoa um, okay, was not expecting this! These are so random and fun hahahaha

I'm terrible with songs, especially on the fly. Can I be corny and say my wedding song? Because, frankly, it fits and it's wonderful and classic ("Ain't No Mountain High Enough" by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell). Oh! Maybe "You Are the Best Thing" by Ray LaMontagne? Such a gorgeous song, I'm obsessed. Yes, that. (But truthfully I picture them having a super small simple wedding - like for them it's about the marriage and making it official more than a wedding. So may not even have things like a first dance or anything. Just a "let's get married" moment at lunchtime on a Thursday.)

I feel like Tim probably doesn't know who Taylor Swift is? 😂

I see them doing a fairly low-key honeymoon. Something cozy, like a cabin in the woods, and/or something with an element of adventure.

Oh man, Angela knew (jk, everybody knew, those fools were terrible at hiding it). Hers is certainly the reaction I wanted most because I love her relationship with Tim, and, again, a bookend to their early conversations would have been so nice. I think there's a great element of playfulness to their friendship, so she'd probably tease him a little, but they're alike in a lot of ways. When they feel, they feel BIG and they care deeply for their people. I also think Nolan would have been hilarious, because he seemed entirely oblivious to the entire thing.

By himself. After all, he knows her so well. Plus I don't think he'd tell anyone - the only exception would be if Angela somehow guessed and forced his hand.

In terms of logistics, I won't be surprised if he moves into her place, even though it makes no sense in reality - why squeeze into an apartment when you have a whole ass house, plus KOJO. Tim's house and Lucy's apartment have such different vibes, so I think if we actually see them moving in together, it would have to be a new place - they'd need a legit set!

Genny so she can let Kojo out? I've honestly never thought about this one!

Maybe "baby," but that's tricky because we heard him call Isabel that, so idk. I'd say either that or "babe"? (I want him to call her "Luce" but I wholeheartedly refuse to use that in a fic until it's canon)

Barbenheimer for the win! (Also Tim would go anywhere with Lucy)

These were cute 😊

#asked and answered #sarcasticbella0809 #chenford

[the-hinky-panda]

The Preacher's Wife: Escape (Part II)

TW: Spousal abuse: physical, metal, emotional, and sexual

Maggie pushes her food around on her plate, making designs in the teriyaki sauce from the grilled salmon. She lines up her asparagus in a tic-tac-toe grid and uses the small red potatoes to fill in the spaces. She glances up at the clock. Eight fifteen. It’s Thursday night, and Hank is probably washing the dishes from dinner with his mom. Consuela is probably sitting in front of the TV, watching whatever sitcom is on, crocheting. 

God, how she wishes she was with them at the moment. 

“Margaret?” 

Her eyes snap up to her husband, Simon Peters. Named for the occupation he has pursued, pastor of a megachurch, the shepherd of souls who love God.. Dressed impeccably in a dress shirt and designer jeans, his hair perfectly groomed in the latest style, seated at the head of the table. The master of his house. “Yes?” 

His cold blue eyes narrow slightly. “Are you alright? You’re very quiet.” 

She hears the veiled threat under his polite, concerned tone. Pay attention. Make me look good. Don’t embarrass me. She forces a smile and straightens her back. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired.” She looks over at the young, newlywed couple that are their dinner guests this evening. “Lydia and Asher wanted me to play in the pool with them today. I guess it took more out of me than I thought.” 

The young woman, Heather, takes her husband’s hand. “I can’t wait to have my own children.” 

Maggie glances over at Simon and gives a forced smile herself. “Children can be a blessing. I do wish I had spent more time learning how to be a wife before becoming a mother though.” Instead, she had married at nineteen and had Lydia ten months later. She had been so naive, believing that she was fulfilling her life plan. Growing up, she had been told that fulfillment was found in family: husband and children. And while she loved both Lydia and Asher, she had also come to realize that joy is found in a variety of things. To keep it constrained to a spouse and children was stifling. 

“God’s timing is perfect though. Lydia arrived exactly when she should have.” Simon picks up his wine glass. “And people who have been married for fifty years or more are still learning how to be the best spouses they can.” 

“And what’s the secret?” the husband, Carter, asks. “You and Mrs. Peters make it look so easy.” 

Maggie feels like she’s going to throw up. She wants to tell this young couple to run as far and as fast as they can from this house. It’s all fake. There’s no love here, no warmth. Her chest physically aches from the longing of wanting that home, that love. That hope. 

“Well, the secret is simple,” Simon says. “Draw closer to God, draw closer to each other. That’s it.” 

Maggie takes a healthy sip of her own wine and swallows down a follow up question of her own concerning the leather restraints and gag that are sitting in the bedside drawer right now. The restraints that she said she did not want to use only to find them wrapped around her wrists when she woke up in the middle of the night. Was that drawing closer to each other? She certainly didn’t think so. 

“And speaking of drawing closer to God,” Simon slips into his preacher’s voice, “this brings me to the reason why Carter and Heather are joining us here this evening.” 

That phrase, the reason why, makes Maggie’s hair stand on end. She becomes hypervigilant, taking in everything in the room. The tightening of the couple’s hands, the embarrassed blush staining Heather’s cheeks. The subtle slide of her eyes over to Simon, who gives her a small nod. How does Carter not see that, see that secretive look? Maybe he doesn’t know, doesn’t have enough experience with infidelity to recognize it. But then Carter looks over at Maggie, his eyes intent as they focus on her face, her lips…her breasts. Maggie pushes her chair back, her desire to flee prompting the motion, when Simon clears his throat. 

“Heather, sadly, is unable to conceive a child on her own.” Simon stands and slowly makes his way over to Maggie. “She and Carter came to me last week asking for prayers and guidance on what the next step should be. So I took the weekend and went into the wilderness and asked God for an answer. This is what He told me.” 

Maggie sways in her chair, feeling sick and lightheaded. Simon steadies her by digging his fingers into her shoulders. 

“God told me that the answer lies in the Old Testament story of the trials of Abraham and Sarah. When Sarah couldn’t conceive, she gave her maid to Abraham and Abraham was able to have a son. So, I give my wife to you so that you may achieve this blessed, and wonderful experience of parenthood.”

He gives her to them, like she’s a possession. Something to be borrowed and returned. She knows better from his phrasing and example, that a clinic for in vitro fertilization was not going to be considered. And if that wasn’t enough, then the leering look that Carter is giving her from across the table is enough to solidify her worst fears. Her stomach roils and she twists her way out of Simon’s grip. 

“Excuse me,” she mutters, running towards the bathroom. 

She locks the door because she can hear Simon’s footsteps behind her. She vomits what little dinner she managed to eat and then sits on the bathroom floor, her back against the wall. She wipes the tears from her eyes with shaking hands. 

“Margaret? Are you okay?” 

The fake sincerity drips from his words. Maggie pulls out her phone from her back pocket and opens her text messages. She needs help. She needs to get out. The door knob moves as Simon tries to open the door. She selects Morgan’s name and manages to type okay, it’s time and sends it off. 

“Margaret.” 

Simon’s patience has run out so she pushes herself up the wall. She turns the water on, more to drown out anything they will say to each other, and she unlocks the door. He’s through it immediately, slamming the door behind him. Maggie prays for deliverance. 

“Pull yourself together,” he demands. “This is happening tonight.” 

“Simon-” 

“And every Saturday night until they get what they want.” 

Anger is replacing the shock. “Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just fuck her during one of your ‘counseling’ sessions and leave me out of it?” 

“Do you know who they are? They are Silicon Valley royalty, the both of them. That’s about 4 billion dollars worth of income sitting at our dining room table and all they want is a kid. Do you know what that kind of money could do for us?” 

“Oh, draining them of their money makes a wife swap so much more tolerable.” Maggie crossed her arms. “I’m not doing this.” 

Simon gives her a wicked smile. “Oh, I think you will. Holly Singer.” 

Maggie feels her blood run cold. “What?” 

“Oh yeah, I know about your books, Holly. So this is how it’s going to go. You’re going to go back out there, do whatever that man tells you to do. And if you’re finding it hard to get in the mood, just pretend you’re one of the sluts you love to write about in your filthy little novels.” 

Well, if God isn’t going to deliver her, then she’ll have to deliver herself. She starts looking for anything to fight back against Simon so she can get out of the bathroom, but all the decorations are too flimsy to inflict any damage. But then, from the other side of the door, comes a tiny little voice. 

“Mommy?” 

Asher, her little three-year-old savior. “Yes, baby?” 

“I don’t feel good.” 

Bless him and whatever it is that roused him from his sleep. Simon’s jaw is tensed, his back teeth practically cracking as he grinds them together. He can’t force anything on her now if one of the kids needs her. Maggie steps around him and opens the door. Asher is standing there, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction, as he holds a small hand over his right ear. 

“What’s the matter, honey?” she asks, picking him up. 

“My ear hurts and I can’t sleep.”

Maggie gives a pointed look at Simon. “Please tell Heather and Carter that I’m sorry I won’t be back out there tonight as my son needs me.” 

She knows he’s going to make her pay for that later but she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it. She puts ear drops in Asher’s ear, gently massaging the side of his little neck to help alleviate the discomfort. She hums “Annie’s Song” twice through and soon, he’s back to sleep in his own bed. She checks her phone before leaving the safety of his room and sees that Morgan has responded already. 

When?

Tomorrow? Is that even possible?

I will make it happen. And I’ll be bringing back-up. I’ll let you know when we’re in the area.

Thank you. She doesn’t need to ask who the back-up is going to be. Morgan had told her she’s put the entire MC on alert so that as many as can come will make the ride up to La Jolla to move her and the kids to safety. Maggie erases the messages from her phone so Simon won’t find them. She already has bags packed for the kids and herself. Clothes, documents, jewelry, cash, all packed up in suitcases and backpacks, stored away in the crawlspace in Asher’s closet. All she needs to do is grab them and the kids and run. She slips the phone back into her pants pocket as she closes Asher’s door quietly behind her. When she turns around, something strikes her across her face, knocking her against the wall.. 

Simon. 

She smooths her hair back from her face and covers her stinging cheek with her hand. He’s standing just a couple feet away from her, a scowl on his classically handsome features. 

“Don’t you ever embarrass me like that again.” He rolls up his shirt sleeves. “They’ll be back tomorrow evening and you will have that child for them.” 

Knowing the calvary is coming tomorrow has made her brave. “And what if she’s not the problem? What if it’s him? Guess you’ll have to be the one to knock her up. What a shame.” 

She moves away from him but he grabs her arm, pushing her back against the wall again. This time, it’s not a slap. Stars erupt behind her eyes when his fist connects with her face and the back of her head hits the wall. His hand rests at the base of her throat, just enough pressure to hold her upright.“Or I just knock you up again. We both know how easy that is.” 

Maggie’s stomach drops at the memories of waking up, drowsy and disoriented, finding Simon on top of her. Too weak to fight him off, too out of it to properly register what was going on. It started happening when she was sleeping in one of the guestrooms, after waking up with her hands restrained in the leather cuffs that one time. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she started waking up with bruises on her wrists and thighs, the sheets and her skin smelling like Simon. She tried to deny it was happening, spending hours scrubbing herself clean in the shower, but then she became pregnant with Asher. She couldn’t deny the abuse at that point. 

That was when she started planning her escape, stashing money, moving assets around, letting Morgan in on what her life was like, albeit a more PG-13 version than the full blown truth. She survived six years in this gilded prison and tomorrow was going to be her day to break free. She knows if she gets too cocky, too confident, then Simon is going to know something is up. So she ducks her head and meekly nods her head. She shows him that she is the epitome of defeat of submission.

“Alright, Simon. Tomorrow night.” She nods in resolution to her fate. “I will follow God’s path for my life.” 

“That’s my sweet, obedient wife,” he presses a kiss against her cheek. “Now, let’s get some sleep so you’re well rested for tomorrow evening.” 

“Okay.” 

She glances at her watch. It’s almost midnight. Just a few more hours until Morgan and the Mayans MC show up to rescue her.  

#hank loza #hank loza x ofc #hank loza fic #hank 'tranq' loza #hank 'traq' loza x ofc #hank 'traq' loza fic

[j-a-nuary]

Carrier

Almost Normal

<< first | previous | masterlist | next >>

Stray Kids Urban fantasy AU (feat. Ateez from time to time) | A “carrier service” exists, seemingly only to get people (usually women) home safe after the trains stop running.

Heavy on bad boys with hearts of… some kind of shiny metal, probably.

Warnings: nothing too wild in this chapter. Some medical-ish stuff (wound description), Vasilisa is ornery with Hyunjin.

=====

"There you are! Goodness,” Tempawan's coworker, Sunmi, openly gawked at her neck, "what on earth happened to you?"

Tempawan grimaced.

"It's going to sound crazy."

Sunmi gave her a sarcastic look, "it already looks crazy."

She wasn't wrong. The bite mark on her shoulder was being stubborn. Despite a lack of infection, it was refusing to simply scab over and get on with healing. While she wasn't actively bleeding anymore, it was still gross - a disgusting raw mess that was always slightly moist. So Tempawan was left with packing gauze onto it, holding it in place with ribbon-like medical tape.

"Fair enough," Tempawan sighed, "I got attacked by a dog."

Sunmi's eyes widened in shock.

"How on earth? What happened?"

"I don't really remember," Tempawan shrugged, "I went out on Wednesday night and then… woke up in a hospital room on Thursday."

"Jeezy creezy," Sunmi muttered, "well, director Kang was looking for you yesterday."

"I think this," she gestured towards the bandage that was visible under the edge of her collar, "will give me an excuse for missing a day or two of work."

"Not really his job," Sunmi shrugged, then looked a little embarrassed.

"Can," she gave Tempawan a secretive smile, "can I see?"

Tempawan rolled her eyes, but leaned forward to indulge her friend. She winced slightly as she peeled back a strip of tape, "I'll warn you, it's kind of gross."

With an encouraging nod from Sunmi, she shook her head and slowly revealed the glossy puncture marks.

Sunmi gasped, physically recoiling.

"Holy…"

"Yeah," Tempawan pulled her foundation cushion out of her bag. She flipped it open, using the mirror to check the wound. "Like I said: gross."

"No kidding. Does it still hurt?"

"Not really," she started re-securing her bandage, "but that's only because the doctor gave me some medicine. It's worse when I sleep."

Satisfied with her gauze placement, Tempawan clicked shut the compact. She quickly readjusted her top so it didn't tug against the patch.

"Well," she stood, resigning herself to her fate, "I guess I should go see the director. If you don’t hear from me, I've been fired and you should come get me from the bar."

=====

"Director Kang?"

She cautiously peeked around the door to the director's office. Everyone knew that if it was propped open, they were free to enter. But she didn't particularly want to enter. Even though her absence was undeniably excusable, even with the proof still leaking into bandages on her neck, she was convinced she was going to be in trouble.

"Is that you Miss Shim?"

Kang Seungyoon didn't look up from his computer. His fingers were flying across his keyboard with an urgency that Tempawan recognized as just gotta finish this email.

"Yes sir."

He vaguely nodded towards the seat in front of his desk, eyes still glued to his screen, "take a seat. This will just be a second."

Tempawan stiffly dipped into the chair. It was probably comfortable when you weren't nervous, but she was trying to be on her best behavior.

The room was silent, save for the muted taps of the director's fingers on his keyboard. Finally, the tap-tap-tap was punctuated by a click from the mouse.

"Alright," he leaned his head back, rolling his neck and shoulders, "sorry about that. It was somewhat urgent."

"Not a problem sir."

"Now then, I wanted to che-"

Tempawan’s eyes had strayed to her own fingers as she waited, but the abrupt way the director cut off his own words alerted her to the fact that he must have finally looked at her.

Like so many things that one would hope others wouldn't notice, the bandage on her neck appeared exigent. Well, perhaps not the bandage itself. The accompanying bruising however seemed to trigger empathy, even in strangers… such as the barista that handed her coffee over this morning.

Director Kang's reaction did not inspire her to meet his gaze, but she couldn't so blatantly avoid it without coming across as rude. Or would he go easier on her if she played up the "traumatizing event" angle?

Her decision was made for her when she heard the unmistakable sounds of the director standing up and moving.

She looked up and saw him cross the office to open the door.

"Come. We'll have the clinic staff take a look at it."

He stood by the door expectantly.

Tempawan hesitated. She wasn't sure exactly why, but she was gripped with the idea that she might get pulled from the trial. And if she got pulled, that probably meant that Dhia would get pulled as well. And if Dhia got pulled, she'd have to start over with a new fertility clinic. One that she'd have to pay for, rather than getting paid by.

"Miss Shim?"

She shook her head, finally standing up.

"Sorry," she bowed quickly, "I got a little lost in thought."

Director Kang took a step back into the office, letting the door close again.

"Is there an issue?"

He sounded sincere. As sincere as a professional could, anyway. He even looked sincere - a faint frown creasing his brow, but not reaching much further than that.

"It's just…" Tempawan licked her lips nervously, "it won't impact my eligibility, will it?"

The director's face relaxed slightly. He even allowed himself a small smile.

"You don't have to worry about that," he reassured her. "I just want to make sure my team's health is properly looked after."

=====

Working for a multinational corporation definitely had benefits. Working for one that was aggressively expanding its medical research divisions had even more.

Tempawan shivered slightly as a cool gel was applied to her wound. After a few minutes, the dull ache was nearly gone.

“This isn’t anything addictive, is it?”

“Not chemically or physically,” the clinician assured her, “just in the way that, say, your favorite food might be addictive.”

Tempawan frowned, trying to parse that sentence before deciding to be straightforward.

“So it’s not an opioid?”

The clinician laughed, shaking her head.

“Absolutely not. Regardless of addiction concerns, opiates aren’t nearly as effective as they’ve been advertised to be.” She shook her head, “they’re more effective at making patients lose lucidity than actually stopping pain.”

“Oh,” Tempawan nodded, not entirely sure if that was true or not. “Then what is this?”

“Marketing is still working on a name for it. We just call it The Slime,” the clinician laughed.

“I’m assuming since you’re laughing that everything is okay?” Director Kang asked from behind the privacy curtain.

The clinician shot Tempawan a smile that landed somewhere between embarrassed and conspiratorial. They had both forgotten the man behind the curtain.

"I think everything is all set," she spoke in a more professional tone now, "the hospital you went to did a good job."

=====

"Not to sound like some sort of drug dealer," Vasilisa hummed, "but I'm assuming if your ending your business with me that you've found a new supplier."

The witch stood over an electric rice cooker. Her familiar, a chubby fuzzy thing, was handing her vegetables to chop. Hyunjin nodded, before remembering that she had her back turned and starting to speak.

"Ye-"

"I see."

He hated it when they did that. He didn't know for sure, but he was pretty sure that the witch could see through her familiar's eyes. Or maybe they were connected telepathically. Either way, he hated it.

"It's not some shady donor scheme, is it?" She kept her back to him. The round rodent moved aside, scrabbling the unused ends of vegetable into the sink as the witch started on some cut of meat.

"No ma'am," Hyunjin murmured. "It's… ah…"

He paused, realizing that he didn't actually know where Chan and his company obtained their blood.

"It's a…?" Vasilisa prompted him to continue.

"It's through my new job."

The witch huffed slightly, but still didn't turn to face him. An uncomfortable silence fell as she worked the extraneous fat off the hunk of meat.

After plopping all of the ingredients into the rice cooker, she finally spoke again.

"That sounds like something one of those trafficking rings would say."

Hyunjin frowned. He had to admit, even if only to himself, that he didn't actually know what Bang Chan's source was.

"I don't think they'd do that. Their business seems to be somewhat based on keeping people safe."

He watched her hands go still. Her fingers twitched, the motion mimicked by her familiar. Were they talking - thinking? - about him?

Vasilisa turned on her heel, fixing a hard look on Hyunjin.

"Bang Chan isn't trying to use you due to your…" her nose crinkled in distaste, "past hobbies, is he?"

Hyunjin shook his head quickly.

"No ma'am," he protested, "Chan doesn't even know about what I am- I mean was! What I was."

Something moving faster than you is scary enough for humans.

For vampires, it's downright terrifying.

Before he could even finish blinking, Vasilisa's ladle was under his chin. He resisted the urge to gulp down his nerves.

"That's right Jinnie. Was. Because we know better than to mess with that shit again," she tapped the ladle against his chin, firm, "right?"

He managed a jerky nod. It earned him another tap.

"Right, Jinnie?"

This time, he forced words out.

"Yes ma'am."

#Carrier #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz x oc #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x oc #skz fan fiction #stray kids fan fiction #vampire!hyunjin

[zmediaoutlet]

happy wincest thursday, liz!! what do you like to see in weecest fic?

aww yay, happy wincest thursday to you as well!

Hm hmm. Weecest. Well -- maybe it's more instructive for me to think about what I don't like to see, up to and including:

any kind of sexkittening. Just... no. Lolita Sam can also fall into a sewer where nothing's #aesthetically on point.

too-sophisticated attitudes about sex & relationships where it feels like they're blue-collar Cruel Intentions characters. You know? Even if Dean's fucked around (or been fucked, all around), he's still ~20 and therefore an idiot, and Sam's ~16 and therefore even idiot-er, and I want them to fumble around and be confused and have their emotions come as an overwhelming surprise, because they're kids! what's the point of weecest where they're not kids?

speaking of fucking around -- I don't like it when they're like way too experienced. There was this tendency in particularly older fic for Dean to have been fucking college girls since he was 14 or whatever the hell (have to assume that was written by teenagers, because anyone over 22 is going to look at a 14 year old and go 'ah, an infant') -- and even if Dean's been doing sex work of some kind, it feels goofy if that's like way ott standing on a corner misery porn rather than a series of opportunistic one-offs. Sam and Dean are both way too normally socialized (honestly, they really are) for it to be some goofy grodelord backstory of that type.

and so, following that, I do like to see some kind of normalcy (assuming we're going for a canon-feeling fic, which is always my pref). Sam should have some awareness of school & what normal people are like; Dean should be fretting about food and money and the car -- so they aren't existing in some weird incestuous oubliette where the rest of the world disappears, because Sam and Dean just don't do that and especially didn't when they were younger. Sam's got a school friend, Dean's got a girl at the grocery store he flirts with. I find wincest (either adult or wee) so much more interesting when they exist in a real world and move through it more or less competently and yet still turn inward to the family. Choice is always cooler than inevitability.

following again from normalcy: if a fic includes the conversation about how incest is illegal and either character says anything like the nothing we do is legal anyway, who cares?, I am exiting out and really considering doing the Ron Swanson meme of throwing my computer into the fucking dumpster. GOD. NEVER AGAIN. There's a reason I avoid first time fics, lol.

sorry I went into a brief rage blackout there -- uh, following again from normalcy: they do need to be aware of the incest thing being a problem but I don't want it to be necessarily about incest qua incest... which doesn't make a ton of sense as I write it out that way, but it's a tonal sweet spot that I'm looking for. Of course they should be weirded out and it should be intense and they should be overwhelmed (per the above bullet point), but given that they're kids I don't want them to have like a full adult horror at what the incest means. Worried John will find out and freak, sure -- knowing it has to be a secret, of course -- knowing that it's weird and probably gross, definitely -- and yet the hormonal tide they're being sucked into is too vast for all of that stuff to fully matter. I absolutely definitively do not fucking want Dean to say something like but we're brothers because no shit, of course they are, and there's something more tangled going on here.

If you haven't sensed it by now, I'm an infuriatingly picky fic reader. But I guess what all of this boils down to is the thing that's my preference in all fic: for them to feel like Sam and Dean Winchester from the canon of Supernatural, and for the setting of the fic to matter. I want it to matter that they're kids and I want it to feel like kids and not shitty fake Characters instead of people. High school settings where everyone's an overwrought and overwritten 27 year old suck. I'm not trying to watch Euphoria here; give me Sam Winchester age 15 being so confused and horny and upset and in love that he nuts in his shorts and Dean panics and then hugs him because he doesn't know what to do, either, because he's nineteen years old. Someone should probably get a noogie at some point. Idk.

Seriously though, the legal issues of incest thing: I will throw you into the sea.

#happy wincest wednesday #answers #that was rambly and incoherent probably but whatever #i'm at work and struggling to care #but this is instructive for my own weecest fic ig #oh i guess we can also include in here: #this is obviously for fic that's supposed to engage your brain #all bets are off it's just a fuckpuff #--that said #lolita sam is still eyerolly in fuckpuffs

[periwinckles]

THE TRAIN BACK TO TWELVE - CHAPTER 19

Week 10 - Peeta

When I get home from the construction site, Katniss and Delly are already there. It's not out of the ordinary for them to hang out at my house. But it's too early for our dinner arrangements and they definitely never cook. As I watch them wandering around the stove, I think that's exactly what they are doing.

"What are you two up to?"

Delly turns, her face instantly turning to a wide smile, and she flungs herself at me in a tight hug. "Happy birthday!" She whispers in my ear. As if I don't know she is incapable of keeping a secret, and she must have ratted me out to Katniss by now.

Katniss slowly turns to acknowledge my arrival with a nod but she keeps her eyes on the stew she is stirring. "We're cooking dinner tonight. We thought you might want a break. You did spend the afternoon at the construction site. " She says, trying to blow a loose strand of hair off her face. Damn. She knows.

"Why don't you go take a shower, Peeta? Don't worry about dinner, we've got it covered." Delly tells me as she starts to sprinkle a greens salad with herbs and salt.

"I guess… ok, I'll do that. Thom went to take a shower as well, he said he wouldn't take long."

As I make my way upstairs I can hear them whisper in the kitchen, but I can't make out what they are saying. I don't know whether or not I should hope for them to be talking about me, but I suppose given the unbalanced ratio of Delly's voice vs Katniss' voice they are probably talking about Thom and Delly.

I take my time with my shower. I ended up helping out to carry some of the bricks and it feels good to let the hot water run down my sore muscles. It's strange to admit it, but soreness feels so good. There was a time when I couldn't really feel anything, either emotionally or physically. All I remember is feeling enveloped by a sense of numbness.

I push that thought aside. Not today. Today I'll think about hot water, sore muscles, and teenage girls gossiping in the kitchen. As I get dressed I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Eighteen. I'm officially an adult, but I've been one for two years now, haven't I?

On a whim, I take a razor blade and I start shaving. Uselessly, of course. Only a few hairs are stubborn enough to grow, despite the procedure they subjected me to for the arenas. Haymitch tells me it wears off over time, but his only started to grow back after five years or so.

Shaving used to be a big thing at the Mellark household. We were bakers and "bakers can't have facial hair". As I stand in front of the mirror I'm thrown back in time, to a much cluttered bathroom, and a shaving mirror that served four different Mellarks. I used to hate having to shave everyday, but my dad was unbendable about that. Ironically, now that I'm back to being a baker, I miss the mundane task of shaving.

When I get downstairs, Haymitch is already there with a sour face.

"Happy Thursday, kid."

Delly's eyes widen, and Katniss pretends to ignore it. So we're going on with the claim that she doesn't know. Ok.

"I want to make it clear I was lured here under false pretenses. "

"What are you talking about Haymitch?" I ask him as I inspect Katniss stew. Wild rabbit with potatoes. The scent is enough to make me hungry.

"I was promised a fine home cooked meal. It was implied you would be cooking. "

"You never complained about my food before!" Katniss strikes back, looking offended.

"You'll still get a fine meal Mr Abernathy!" Delly assures him. "We just thought Peeta could use a break, after all it's his…" She looks around unsure of what to say "... Thursday."

Haymitch huffs at this, but takes a seat at the table anyway.

I take a loaf of bread and as I begin to slice it Thom finally arrives.

We talk about the construction and the new wave of residents coming, as we savor the food.

I've been thinking about opening the bakery again, and Thom agreed to take a look at my plans after dinner. Houses for the residents are the priority right now, but once that's taken care of they will start with other buildings.

I don't know if it's the heavy lifting I did today that made me so hungry, but the food is excellent, better than anything I might have made myself

Haymitch fills his plate a second time, but he's still a tough nut to crack.

"I suppose it's not that bad."

"The food is great!" Thom says as he extends his compliments to the girls. "I think it's the first time I ate something you cooked." He says turning to Delly, and her cheeks turn a slight shade of pink.

"You're not disappointed?" She asks with a cringe "I know you love Peeta's cooking. He goes on and on about it for days, every time we eat here." She tells me and I feel a little swell of pride.

"Not disappointed at all." Thom answers back as Delly locks eyes with him again. But whatever silent conversation they're engaging in is interrupted by Haymitch, who drags Thom to a chess match.

I make a point to be the one handling the dishes, but I'm leaving those in the sink for later. I cut the cake like a regular dessert and bring it to the living room so everyone can get a slice. When I get there everyone looks thoroughly amused except for Thom.

"Check." Haymitch says, leaning back into his chair with his arms crossed.

"How is that even possible? We only made three moves. Three moves. That's not… that's got to be illegal or something right?" Thom looks to me asking for help, but there's nothing I can do. I was never able to beat Haymitch at chess and I'm beginning to think I never will.

They end up playing three more games as we sit on the couch. Delly tells us all about the progress on her vegetable garden. "It's much easier now, with more hands to help, and I think I'll be able to get another five or so workers with the new wave of residents."

"How does that work? Will people be able to choose what to do?" Katniss asks and I'm curious myself. Thom told us a new group of former residents is coming back next week, another 63 to add to the current 68. With the three of us in Victor's village, we'll have 134 residents in the entire district.

"Jack is working with a list of available positions. Most will have to be directed to construction with Thom or cleaning with Jack. But there will be openings for suppliers, they need more cooks with so many mouths to feed. And the garden will have openings as well. The newcomers will be able to choose according to the available slots. "

As Delly keeps talking Katniss softly places her hand on top of mine. I try not to react. Delly appears to not have noticed it, as she keeps talking, but I'm way off track by now. Katniss and I never touch each other unless we are sleeping or the other is either crying or fighting with a nightmare. I notice a small smile on her, out of the corner of my eye as I entwine my fingers with hers.

"And we want to try our way with preserves in the fall, to make provisions for winter. Ideally we would be completely independent from the Capitol foodwise, but who knows how long that's gonna take us, right?"

Delly looks at us, waiting for an answer but we both fail to deliver. Her eyes dart to our joined hands and a grin appears in her face, as I try to hide mine behind pursed lips.

"I give up!" Thom flails his hands in the air and slumps to his chair. "He's undefeatable!"

"I told you." I remind him, with a shrug of my shoulders.

"I'll take that as my leave." Haymitch says, getting up. He takes his jacket and produces a small package from his pocket. "Catch."

He throws the package to me and I catch it easily. It's lightweight and wrapped with a repurposed newspaper sheet.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

As he goes, Katniss excuses herself to go to the bathroom. I start unwrapping the package, but as soon as I catch a glimpse of the inside I wrap it back again and hide it inside a drawer.

He's giving me more condoms? This feels like Victory tour all over again.

Read the rest on AO3

#the hunger games #everlark #everlark fanfiction #peeta x katniss #thom x delly #thelly #katniss x peeta #peeta mellark #thg

[burning-sol]

Briefly mentioned in the tags of my exandroth dress drawing, this is my oc Elizabeth Lydon. I've decided I'll put more stuff under the cut if you wanna read a bit more abt her. But I think what's most important to note is that she is a doctor, and generally a very good hearted, compassionate and determined person.

She's caring, but not typically in a spoken way or by using physical affection. Sometimes she seems dismissive because of that, but actually it's just because she's caring in a practical way - if that's how you'd best describe it. When someone vents to her, she might not immediately go to comfort them because she gets caught up in thinking about what to do about that problem. Elizabeth files it away in the back of her mind and puzzles over it, organises everything she needs and then gets back to you with solutions. When it comes to neighbours, she has more than once rocked up to houses with a bunch of tools and supplies to fix that ONE step that you said was annoying you a fortnight ago. And she'll quietly work away at it until she's done before heading home. It may seem a bit strange at first, but it's just her way of doing things.

Anyways. She was conceived all the way back in 2017 (god it's been half a decade) and she's remained essentially the same in concept the entire time. I've made minor adjustments to her story and personality, but that's about it aside from jumping universes! To try and keep the 'jumping universes' bit brief: I had all my OCs together in one universe; they were all wacky and had unique things happening because I was a little lad having fun with characters; the primary group of OCs developed overtime to become more 'realistic' (for lack of a better term) with a more 'realistic' universe; this year I've decided to take certain characters and concepts that were more magical and shove them into a new universe with a fantasy setting where they wouldn't conflict with the 'realistic' setting of the previous universe. Hopefully that makes sense.

Her character concept in question was that she was a doctor! But not just that, she's a time travelling doctor. Originally her time in the past was going to be more involved, but I've changed that now because I don't want to think about time travel too much. As it is, she goes back in time and studies older forms of medicine and disease to create remedies for her clinic in current time. Nobody quite understands HOW she got so prolific in medicine, but she is incredibly well known in the world for both the effectiveness of her medicine and its incredibly humble pricing.

The pocket watch is the secret to her time travelling capabilities. It's a magical mechanism that's been passed down through her family for generations now. In exchange for the family's good deeds, the entity that bestowed the watch permits they continue to use it. The only item that matches it is a bell that is kept in the cottage her family uses for business. When the bells is rung it will ring through the watch and basically serve as a beckoning home. This is VERY useful for obvious reasons. If Elizabeth is asked for in person, the bell can be rung and she'll be sure to come back home.

Maybe that doesn't quite make sense. I guess the way I imagine it is that the bell and the watch are both running in the same linear time. The bell is like an anchor. You can go to any point in the past- But when you have to come home you're brought back to the same point in time as the bell. So if the bell is rung on a Thursday and the watch is back in time on a Monday, you can't just wait a day and then go back to Thursday. When the watch is experiencing Tuesday, for the bell it's now Friday. Sorry if my explanation is messy. I hope that makes sense.

"But Sol, couldn't this easily fall into the wrong hands and be used for nefarious purposes?" Well yeah! Probably! If someone was REALLY desperate to have it they could find a way! But it would be difficult to acquire. And overall this fantasy world is a pretty optimistic, fun one? Like sure. I could make a plot around this. But that's for a DnD campaign or something. When it comes to me writing for myself? Naw. I like things being nice and warm and friendly! People are good, they act in good faith! ^ ^

And that's all I have to say on that.

#📚 my posts #🖍️ art #💼 ocs #☀️ fantasy ocs #i should probably make an oc tag or something #but yeah! that's her! #and this art is from last year but im still REALLY happy with it #i love the shape of her face and her body!

[paraparathecow]

I also very curious of what you think what would happen in chapter 3,4,5 if you have to make a predict for here a list I think would happen

Chapter3

1.it going to be a tv theme world. 2. They are going to explain why toriel asgore get divorced in the first place. 3. Toriel is going to be in the main party but she act like Susie as not listening to you and doing things her way.4. the secret boss of this chapter is going a butch specially asgore flowers in the trash and feed on hated reject love.5. the knight make they first appearance on screen and explain that they (Kris) created this dark world.

Chapter4

1.The dark would probably been theme around church/religion. 2.the dark world would be located in the church (I going to have explain in a little bit) 3. Catti and jockington would probably be in the dark world because in Deltarune status update 2022 summer, there 3 screen shot of the light world, all are form chapter 4 and one have Susie inside qc dinner with Kris, recall that in chapter 2 Susie refuses to enter qc dinner because was in there. I think what happens is that Susie to going to gain the trust of catti that she doesn't hostile to going inside the restaurant. 4. Kris and Susie goin cute moments together.

Chapter5

1. The dark world theme is be about art. 2. It is going be located in the other unused class room because seem a pattern I seeing is that each chapter is taking a full day, I determined that chapter 1 take on a Thursday, chapter 2 take on a Friday, 3 would be on Saturday, 4 would be Sunday and if all of that true than that would mean chapter 5 would take place on a Monday. 3. Asriel would make it reappears. 4. The festival is going in this chapter. 5. The roaring would happen at the same time as in the beginning of the roaring.

Here's the thing. While we can make guesses for chapter 3, were left completely in the dark for chapters 4 and 5. So I don't see the point in trying to predict things we have no clues about.

#deltarune #one is a fluke two is a coincidence but three is a pattern #and we only have two

[fairyofshampgyu]

Now live ! Stream: 5

Genre: smut, camboy au, college au, crack

Pairing: camboy! Beomgyu x gn reader (afab when smut)

Warnings: camboy, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, use of fleshlight, riding, nipple play, wow they finally fuck , cuddling, reader literally being a full on simp

Synopsis: Every Thursday night at 8pm, you tune into your favourite camboy: Angel313. What you don’t know is he even goes to the same uni as you, is in the same class as you and is Choi Beomgyu, the campus fuckboy but will you keep his secret?

Word count: 2.7k

You travelled hurriedly to beomgyu’s dorm in the snowfall that seemed to progressively get worse, trying to make your way there faster so you wouldn’t have to be in it for that long.

You hated the feeling of snow all on you, clothes and body soggy and cold, it wasn’t very pleasant. Yes, snow was very pretty to look at from inside, watching as it carelessly and elegantly scattered the ground and watching the landscape being blanketed by it, making even the ugliest places look pretty, but being in snow when it fell down harshly and rapidly in excessive cold wind speeds was not pretty.

Finally, you make it into his building, climbing up all the stairs to the very top since the elevator still hadn’t been fixed yet, panting as you knocked on his door.

“Woah. What happened to you?”

“The snow. And your damned dorm being at the highest level for no reason.”

“Ah yeah we were supposed to be working on the music performance today weren’t we? Thought it would have been rain checked due to the weather. Or…should I say snow checked?” Beomgyu laughs at his own joke as you continue to stare at him unamused.

...

“Are you going to let me in?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He opens his door wide for you and you walk in, taking off your coat.

“Wow you have so much snow in your hair.” Beomgyu states, coming to softly stroke and pat your head of the little icy droplets, it takes you a back but you try your hardest to seem unaffected.

“You must be freezing! I’ll make us both hot chocolate.”

“Thanks beomgyu.”

And so, you work on your meeting together about the christmas performance. Whilst you’d gotten the music done and have had many practices now, there’s still lots to take into account and consideration such as lighting and decorations, how long everything had to be, where people will be playing, speeches, etc. You’re huddled there together for a good few hours discussing, planning and sorting things for it.

Just as your wrapping up, ready to go to your lecture together which was soon, both of you get alerted of the weather. A powerful blizzard taking place. Must stay inside. Everyone snowed in. Advised to not go out at all until it’s over which was predicted to last until the whole night. All lectures cancelled for the rest of the day.

Both of you stare up at each other, bewildered, only now hearing the wind howling and the snow hitting against the window extremely fast and powerfully. Whilst it was snowing crazy on the way to beomgyu’s place, you didn’t think or anticipate it to progress into a full blown snow storm. It’d be crazy to go out in that. But you’ve got to try and make it back home or you’re stuck.

You grab your coat and start putting it back on.

“Hey, where are you going? Are you mad? You can’t go out in that!”

“But I should probably go back home!”

“You might die bro! That’s not safe. You might die from like…hypothermia or... get blown away from the winds and then disappear and never be found!” Beomgyu dramaticises, “You should just stay at mine until it calms down.” The snow storm seems gradually get worser and even more severe as he carried on speaking, proving his point and you can hear the windows rattling from the sheer force.

You sigh, “Yeah i guess you’re right, it would be stupid to go out in that.” And he nods.

“Well, looks like we’re snowed in together. What should we do?”

You watch a lot of movies together huddled cozily on his sofa, beomgyu’s commentary making it a lot more funnier and making the incredibly awful films slightly more bearable.

“What B rated Christmas film shall we watch next?” Beomgyu asks after you’re done finishing yet another one.

“Please! No more I need to take a break it’s actually hurting my head.”

He laughs at that, eyes wrinkling cutely and smile so pretty— “What should we do instead?…Y/n? Hello?”

You don’t process what he says at first, too busy lost in your improper thoughts about your partner next to you. “Huh? Oh! Ummm we could film another one of your streams if you want. Now’s good timing since we’re here and not like we can really go anywhere.”

“Yeah that’s true, let’s do it then.” Beomgyu says slightly timidly, still shy about streaming with you.

He gets out his toys and whatnot, you setting up the camera again and you choose the new flesh light both of you had acquired recently with the money from the streams, telling him to use that today since you know it would garner a lot of reactions.

Despite beomgyu being a camboy for quite a while, he’d never actually tried a flesh light properly before and the one you guys had purchased looked a bit too real to him, looking at it already made him kinda hard and also embarrassed.

Once you guys had set up everything and gotten ready for it, you pressed the button to go live and started recording.

Beomgyu sits, legs spread out and bent level to his chest, his pretty belly button piercing in view and his legs covered with his usual pretty thigh highs, taking the fleshlight and very slowly easing it down on tip, his mouth already agape from just that.

He brings the toy down and back up on his length, slowly sucking him in each time, hips rolling languidly into it as you watched in awe, also monitoring the comments who seemed to be in the same predicament as you.

His lip is caught between his teeth, trying to silence his continuous whimpers. He looked so out of it just from fucking into silicone, it drove you mad. He made it so hard just to sit and watch and carry on filming.

Beomgyu's pace grows unsteady, cock throbbing and jerking, getting delirious with each stroke of the now sticky toy, squirming in need whilst you watched him.

He wanted to be touched so bad. He needed you to touch him. He couldn't take it, fucking himself pathetically with just a toy whilst you're right there. He wants you to fuck him. He needs it at this point.

Beomgyu looks straight at you with half lidded eyes, whining and looking at you so seductively, "Wish it was your pussy I was fucking-h-hah...ah."

You know he's just talking to the fans but you can't help imagining he was begging you instead. "Want you to fuck me. I need it please-ahh" Beomgyu hopes you'd get the hint and just come over and fuck him already, whilst also trying to be discrete about it, not wanting to give himself away too much.

You look away, going to the comments, feeling embarrassed about your thoughts and beomgyu suddenly whines incredibly loud, brows furrowing. "Please!!", looking straight into your eyes.

You can't take it anymore. You walk over to him, stilling his movements of the fleshlight and his eyes widen, stumbling over his words. He didn’t think it’d actually work. You move the fleshlight on his dick with your own hands over his, twisting it around and he gasps, looking up at you pleadingly.

“You want to get fucked?” He nods his head continuously. “But you’re a virg-”

“-Please! I want it!”

“Are you sure?” He nods again and breathes out a yes but you still search his eyes for any uncertainty.

When you don’t find any, you remove the fleshlight off him, straddling his hips, taking off your own clothes. You jerk his dick a couple times and then as gently as you can, place his dick to your entrance, slowly sinking on his tip, making his head throw back with a groan before sitting on his whole length, he lets a loud strangled moan at that, “O-oh god…”

You slowly ride him, beomgyu’s mouth in an ‘o’ shape the whole time. He’s fucked himself countless of times before and he never thought actually getting fucked would be much different or would feel that great like some people say but he can confirm that it in fact does feel that great. He didn’t think it would feel this good. He can’t stop moaning and you’re not even remotely going fast.

You can’t believe you’re actually fucking Angel. Like, you’re actually fucking him right now. It’s even better than how you imagined countless times, his reactions so fucking pretty. You used to just watch him from a small screen not knowing who he was and now you’re making him so pussy drunk, eyes rolling to the back of his head, intoxicated and so fucked out from just slowly rolling your hips on his, the first person to fuck him and make him feel like this.

You quicken your pace, hitting a bit deeper and he moans, burying his face in your neck, trembling and drooling. You can hear numerous pings going off every second from people sending in tips. You bet the viewers are going insane right now.

“Y/n, I think-I think I’m gonna cum already…” Beomgyu whimpers, eyes so glazed up, lost in the pleasure and then you feel him suddenly cum inside you with a broken mewl. “Ahh…I-I’m sorry y/n, I’m sorry…!” Beomgyu sniffles, face flushed pink, tears brimming his eyes, so embarrassed from already cumming so fast.

You keep bouncing on his spent dick, ruffling his hair, “it’s okay, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Think you can cum again?”

His eyes widening at the name and praise and you move to gently play with his nipples, body jerking up in response, someone else touching his nipples making him even more sensitive than he usually is, pretty sounds coming out of his mouth none stop as if he’s a drone, cries accelerating and elevating in pitch whilst you fucked him dumb.

“Cum, baby.” So he does again, muffling his screams by burying his face in your neck again, one of his hand coming to claw at your back, shuddering and spilling his release, cumming hard from being fucked for the first time, whole body flushed and glistening, eyes shut and eyebrows still furrowed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he pants. So, so, so fucking pretty.

You go back to get the camera, zooming in and filming a close up for the viewers of his ‘just fucked and came’ face, beomgyu still delirious and softly groaning and panting, brows still knitted even afterwards.

You check to see how much you guys made and you gasp. It was double the amount even on the days he makes the most money. It was a fuck ton of money.

You go back to beomgyu to see if he’s doing good and it seems like he’s recovering from his high. “Look how much we made.” You show him the tips and even beomgyu gasps.

Once you both had taken it in turns to shower, beomgyu lends you some of his clothes. When you’d agreed to stay at beomgyu’s place until the snow storm calmed down, you didn’t fully realise that would mean staying over night with him even though it literally said it was expected to carry on exactly the same as it was during the night.

And now here you were in his bedroom. It was quite a nice bedroom, you had been in before but you never fully took in the sight of the room, fairy lights strewn across the room, record player, his multiple guitars on one side with band posters and numerous bear plushies on his bed.

"Where are your spare pillows and blankets? I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I don’t have any spare pillows or blankets. Also I can’t just let my guest sleep on the floor!”

“Then what?”

“We’ll sleep on the bed together. It’s big enough. And you literally just fucked me so I don’t think it really matters.”

He is right about that so you both head to the bed, throwing off some of the plushies except for one which he keeps to the side and you lie down on the left whilst he lies down on the right.

“Good night y/n~”

You can feel his body presence near you. It kinda makes you feel uneasy for some reason. It’s definitely not because you find him really attractive or anything. You don’t find him attractive.

It’s extremely cold due to the blizzard, you’d think being in the bed with covers on you would keep you warm but you’re absolutely fucking freezing.

“Am I the only one completely shivering here?” Beomgyu turns to face you, also cold.

“No you’re not the only one. Do you not have the heating on or something?”

“It’s broken. They still haven’t fixed it.”

“Seriously what’s wrong with your building?”

“I have no idea…You know what this means y/n...? A grin slowly appearing on his face.

“What?”

“We have to cuddle…or we might actually die…” Beomgyu wiggles his eyebrows.

“We’re not cuddling.”

“We’re both freezing! It totally calls for it! This is literally the only one bed trope in real life.”

“You didn’t just say that…”

“We’re living our wattpad moment right now. Don’t you wanna cuddle with your love interest?” Beomgyu makes a kissy face at you and you put your hand to shield him from whatever he was doing, used to his flirty antics by now.

"You'd never be my love interest." It's not that you didn't want to but you're sure your heart would literally give out if you did.

Beomgyu gasps, "How can you say that when I'm so handsome?"

"That's a very generous word to describe yourself."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that and that the offer still stands. This is a LIFE or DEATH situation. We will freeze to death. And die. DIE. "

Well it was very cold. You sigh, "Fine. Come here."

"What? No, you come here."

"I want to be big spoon though!"

"So do I!" You narrow your eyes at him and he does the same.

"Well, we both can't obviously be the big spoon." Beomgyu gives you a deadpan look.

So you both settle for both of you coming in to hug each other, you arms around his waist, his around yours, his head resting snuggly on your shoulder with a content smile. You instantly felt warmer, beomgyu so warm and so close. You were freaking out to say the least but you tried your hardest to seem casual about it all.

“Beomgyu, how did the rumour of you being a fuckboy come about anyway?” You ask, not wanting to go to sleep just yet.

“I don’t know because I can be quite flirty. And there was also this guy that I used to be good friends with and his chick was like in love with me and one time she just randomly kissed me at a party and he got mad at me, saying I was trying to steal his girl even though I literally did nothing and he knew that but then he just started beating me up! And told everyone I was a girlfriend stealer and a fuckboy. We stopped being friends. He still carried on dating that girl, she broke up with him a few months ago though.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. It kinda sucks to be honest because people either hate me for no actual reason or people at parties just think I’m an easy fuck and only want to fuck me.” Beomgyu pouts.

“Why were you a virgin for so long?”

“Because everyone thought I was like really good at sex if I was a fuckboy so every time I was close to fucking someone I’d just get really nervous they’d think I was super amazing and I couldn’t tell them I was a virgin so I’d just back out.”

“How come you let me?”

“Because we’re close friends! And you know and I didn’t feel like that with you.”

“We’re close…?” Your eyes widen.

“What?! I’m offended you don’t think the same. We’re literally cuddling right now. And we work and hang out together all the time?!”

To be honest, you thought guys were more like acquaintances. You were just working on the performance and helping him with his business, but for him to call you a close friend made you kinda warm and fuzzy inside. You wanted to be Beomgyu’s friend. He was cool actually.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and comment !!!! if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 🤨👎Feedback is always appreciated it makes me happy :)

A/n: I love how I said idk when this chapter would be out and then ends up posting it the next day 😍😍 Also I’m sorry if this is lowkey bad I had no idea what was going on I am sorry

Taglist:

@pogigyu @denleave1088 @mashimarshmello @stellz581 @cha0thicpisces @soobsfairy444 @lcvetyvn @1ummcalhoody6 @imrllytootiredforthis @bjttersweets @aliceoracleollormusic @yongboksgf @daniarafid @nyanggk @aggiebackstage @openingssequence @qluvr @be0mflwr​ @artypjmlbss @jayoonology @dickdeprived @lilactangerine @kissmeow @katsukeis @shutupheathersorryheatherr @lcvesickgyuzz @mastergibbs93 @tae-ology @popimagines @lynanist @guavagyu @soobhns @mikeeel @multistansimp4life @goquokka @scarfac3 @disneygirl712 @roses-for-my-love @maxismp1 @peachenle @i-loved-you42 @vampcharxter @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @yuhjoeyuh @ren-junwrld @eggeutarteuu @staurdvst @tyunnie-gyuu @vivioluh @itbtoblikethatsometimes (ask to be added to taglist !!)

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #txt headcanons #txt scenarios #dom!reader #choi beomgyu smut #sub beomgyu #sub txt #txt imagines #txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu oneshots #txt oneshots #kpop smut #sub idol #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours

[eirian-houpe]

The Monday Menu

Week 2 of August, next week I start back to work... teacher workdays, but still... 

So, what news...? I FINALLY did it.  I cut myself free from a certain horrible fic website. Deleted ALL my fics, and I’m just waiting for them to tell me how to close the account, and it will all be gone. (There’s no button to do that.) Fear not, however, I am moving everything to AO3. Some of the great exodus has begun already, I’m working through a Stargate Atlantis fic, and a UC: Undercover fic right now, and the others will come in time.

I wrote a little bit last week about how I feel guilty when I indulge myself an allow myself to write. I know I shouldn’t.  It’s a HUGE part of my self-care routine, but I still do. So if anyone catches me doing that guilt thing - please call me out.

Still waiting on those Behind the Scenes requests? Also, nothing happened on Thursday or Saturday last week because I didn’t get any prompts for TTT or Saturday Secret. Sad really. Is the fandom sleeping?

Here’s the plan for this week (and an explanation of each thing for those that are new to my Tumblr), though I might be making some changes.

Monday - The Monday Menu - what it says on the box. A plan for the week.

Tuesday - TMI Tuesday. - Ask me… go on, anything.  Ask my characters -they’ll answer. Nothing is off limits, but be sure you want the answer before you ask the question.

Wednesday - WIP Wednesday - Current state of my works in progress. So many - and still clmbing!

Thursday - Three Things Thursday - any fic of mine is fair game. Doesn’t have to be Rumbelle, I have Rushbelle, a bunch of crossovers, some shows people might no know, some ST: DSC, some SGA and some Tolkien too… ask three things, I dare ya…! Please… This is also the day I’ll do the ‘Behind the Scenes’ post, which might just end up as part of the TTT post.

Friday - Final Line Friday. - Assuming I manage to write anything, I will post a word cloud, and the last line that I have written right before I post this.

Saturday - Saturday Secret - another one of those where you can ask about any fic, and I’ll tell (or show) you a secret. Feel free to follow up with conversation or guesses.  I will tell you if you get something right. Again, no one took me up on the offer… so we might also have to think of another ‘SA’ post.

Sunday - Seven Sentence Sunday. - yeah, I have to write something to be able to post this.

Writing this week - Disparate Pathways is at the head of the list, followed by Not Yours to Keep, and then maybe if there’s time, What the Actual Fuck! I’m also being poked at about a fic that has the working Title “Only Remembered for What We Have Done.”  I think that title is likely to change, but probably not by much.  You might get to see chapter 1 of that fic sooner than I had anticipated.

As always my inbox is open for thoughts, questions, asks… I don’t restrict people to any particular day of the week, and I - like most fic authors - love to discuss things to do with fics and fandom.

I just want to add a shout out to those readers who have left me Kudos these last several days.  It has not gone un-noticed.  love you guys for those votes of confidence..

Talk to me, peeps! My inbox is lonely,

#The Monday Menu #rumbelle #rushbelle #sutherelle #Tolkien #Foundation (TV) #Stargate Universe #stargate: atlantis #UC: Undercover

[valerie]

TWITL - week 6 - rainy start then sunshine

MONDAY - 5 February Has the storm passed? It sounds a bit wet out there but the rain has stopped and the wind has died down. The weekend weather was pretty wild! It'll be interesting to see what damage it wreaked or if it's all been cleaned up already. I saw a picture of a tree that fell in front of the library. No body was hurt, thank goodness. https://flic.kr/p/2pwBb6o One full week of work. We can get through it. We will get through it. I already know I have a lot of emails to go through when I get to work. I need to write down my tasks during these times so that I don't forget to do the things I must do. It's easy to get caught up in the stuff that must be done but some prioritizing does need to happen sometimes. As is the case here. Percy Jackson and the Olympians - I neglected to talk about the season ender of this FANTASTIC show. It had better come back because I WANT MORE! The show is excellent and okay, it's about kids but all the Greek mythology weaving through it just makes me so happy. I really loved the books (obviously read them as an adult) and the show has done such a fantastic job of bringing the characters and the stories to life. They must give us more. How can they not bring us more? Also, go watch the show. So well done. Argylle - I knew it was a good idea to NOT read any reviews before seeing the movie. I read something about the "twist" and then skimmed through a few comments. The article was not positive and the comments didn't really sound like they were from people who actually watched the movie. I'm telling you, the movie was a fun ride. Was it ridiculous? Of course! Was if funny? So much so. Does it deserve the bad box office return and the negative reviews? Nope, not at all. I'd love to see it again. I really enjoyed it. TUESDAY - 6 February Toby Keith died. I was shocked when I read about it, then a little sad. When I really started listening to country music (mid/late 90s), he was one of the big stars and he had some fun songs in those early days. I enjoyed his music for a long time and then didn't listen much to him in later years. I prefer his fun songs and don't really care for the ones that lean on the patriotic side in an angry fashion. I get that people probably paint him a certain way in this day and age but I still think of him fondly for the songs of his that I do still love. When he sang those drinking songs or songs with stories, he had a way of delivering the words in memorable fashion. If people only want to remember the "bad" stuff about him, that's their prerogative. He was singer and songwriter and I bet he's got a song in his catalog that you'd like if you give it a chance... Thomas Beaudoin won for Best Male Actor at the Central Coast International Film Festival for his role in a short film called Secrets Not Buried. Why do I know such a thing? Oh yes, because I'm claiming Thomas as my latest book boyfriend, which means I'm following his work. And no, I'm not going to pretend that his good looks weren't the first thing to catch my attention. You all know me better than that, right? (Well, you should, my lovelies.) Gosh, I have a type when it comes to my book boyfriends, eh? Anyhoo, I saw that Thomas had won Best Actor and I added the post to my IG story (as one does when trying to show the love and perhaps catch the attention of the book boyfriend) because I was happy for him. I remembered to check on the people who looked at that particular IG story and lo, guess who cast a glance? You knew before I said anything, didn't you? https://flic.kr/p/2pxUBuH Sometimes it happens and yes, I screenshot it... WEDNESDAY - 7 February I finished that audiobook yesterday evening and I'm so relieved! I really did not like the female narrator's voice when doing dialogue and even the male one started to irritate me towards the end. The story itself was all right but I think I should stick to reading romance novels as opposed to listening to them. THURSDAY - 8 February Was it forward of me to DM Chris to ask if he's going to the All Blacks v Fiji match? When I wrote out my message, I was a little nervous but figured I just had to ask because I know he's a big rugby fan. And lo, HE REPLIED!!! I saw that I had a notification on Twitter (yeah, I still call it that and yeah, I still have it) and when I opened the app, I saw that I had a DM. I opened it and there was a message from Chris. I think I let out a little squeak, as one does, and then calmed myself and read his message. He just found out about the match and he had gone to the one in Chicago so he was pretty sure he was going to go with his rugby friends to San Diego. He said that he'll keep me updated. https://flic.kr/p/2pxUEbj This particular screenshot makes me smile... I'm trying to be cool and whatevs about this but nope, can't do it. He read my message, must still find me to be not too crazy, and wrote back to tell me that he was probably going and he'd keep me updated. Fangirl me is super super excited!!! I hope we really do get to meet up. It'll rock! https://flic.kr/p/2pxURib my Sunday look Super Bowl LVIII - Well, that didn't go the way I had hoped. The result is exactly why I don't like going into such a game thinking, "Oh, my team is going to win!" Maybe it's a way of keeping myself from being too heartbroken but it didn't really work. I was VERY DISAPPOINTED by the 49ers loss and I really don't want to hear excuses or blame or anything else. It's done. The Niners and the Chiefs played a good game and maybe I would have enjoyed it more if I didn't care so much. It sucks to lose but what a season they had... https://flic.kr/p/2pxoNi5 Leica Sofort 2 and the first shot Leica Sofort 2 - Got my new camera! It arrived on Friday and the film arrived on Saturday. It's super cute! I'm digging it. I experimented with the printing, starting with photos taken by the camera as well as shots taken by my phone. I can only pair the camera with one device so I paired it with my iPhone. Of course, the photos taken by the iPhone printed very nicely. The photos taken by the camera print nicely enough but the digital versions aren't as nice, of course. Still, it's pretty cool! Shots from the Leica Sofort 2: https://flic.kr/p/2pxN2in the first shot I printed from my Leica Sofort 2 https://flic.kr/p/2pxTw63 the view at the ranch https://flic.kr/p/2pxSBAw the view at dusk https://flic.kr/p/2pxSBDT hopeful before the Super Bowl I'm so glad we had Monday off from work. Now four days of work and another three day weekend ahead. Here we go! Read the full article

#LeicaSofort2 #techfreakchick #thomasbeaudoin

[fifteensjukebox]

Hey hello how about 01, 12, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34 and 55 for the HORRIBLE ask game. This year.

hiiiiiii anon! i haven't gotten an anon in ages this is so exciting <3

also sorry i'm answering so late i explain it in the middle but i had a family outing and i thought mobile would let me edit

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? i do! my mom's my best friend in a way i'm sure is annoying to people who don't, and my dad is annoying but he is the best dad i know

03: Do you regret anything? biiiiiig question. i try not to. i try to tell myself i needed to do things to learn or whatever but i'm always wondering how else things could've gone and second guessing things as i do them

05: What is your relationship status? very much single. if you want to hear about my latest crushes you'll find it in my "vie" and "lore" tags but i'm sure they're not going anywhere so shoot your shot!

08: Played any sports? my dad coached a soccer team i was on when i was 4 but i was more interested in the dandelions on the field… outside of required gym class stuff (which i did not enjoy) i've enjoyed tennis and beach volleyball with my family (18 y/o brother included)

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? i think my record is 36, the last day/night/flight home from seeing my now-ex tumblr gf

well. if anything (back to earlier qs i could say i regret the whole met-online-ldr thing but it was good when it happened and im seeing it work out so well for friends so it could've been worthwhile in the long run!

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? irl i don't entirely hate anyone but i have some strong mixed near-hate feelings about the exes (and one not-yet-ex? i think? they're on the way out) of people i care about, and a certain ex friend of mine (if she makes the next move in reaching out i might be able to find it in myself to forgive but at this point it won't be as easy as it could've been)

21: What are your plans for this weekend? tbd but probably festive family things? extended family christmas dinner is on monday and we'll do our gift exchange that morning (speaking of which i need to get ready rn to leave for our family brunch followed by mall trip to shop for secret santa - my parents+18 y/o brother+i do a mini secret santa - well mini in that there are only 4 names but we have a generous budget bc it's usually our main/only source of gifts amongst ourselves. i got my mom again this year and she made it a little too easy by requesting a specific pair of raybans that make up most of the budget, but i'll get creative with the rest) we're also going to the distillery district for the vibes on thursday and my dad's taking these 2 days off work so collectively it all feels like weekend plans. maybe i'll go skating on the actual weekend! i haven't done it yet this season and i miss it

update here is that i didn't find anything for mom except the raybans so i may be going out alone to shop more on fri/weekend

34: Who/what was your last dream about? damn. the one time i don't write it down. oh! ok the last one i remember was one where a version of my ex bestie and i got back together so to speak but she was being overtly manipulative and i had to decide if i was ok with that? which. thanks subconscious! way to mix her with the bitch i had a crush on in middle school! real ex-bestie would never do that but i think it's created some irrational fear where before i just had sadness that i was mostly over (to briefly recap the situation there, she's depression-ghosted and blocked me before and she did it again earlier this year but it hurt more bc we'd been closer leading up to it than we had before the first time)

55: Are you mean? i think i can be really petty but people take it hard because they think of me as being so nice, so i know of some people who'd say i'm mean

thanks again for asking anon! i hope you're having a wonderful holiday season <3

#now that i think of it some might consider it mean and/or petty to say allthat about ex bestie but she is mean and petty (affectionate) #we always encouraged that in each other <333 #towards mutual enemies i mean #anyway thanks again-again beloved anon #vie #les messages #anon