#maybe i just got used to growing up poor and working class

[soldier-poet-king]

Should not be feeling prideful abt the fact that I treat housekeeping staff like Actual Human Beings unlike MOST of my office and therefore I got to hear all about her kids and was shyly asked if I could help design & print smthn bc her kids are coming home from college, but like, I AM, this is my crowning achievement at work but really it should just be like. The baseline of human decency. And YET.

Not to be like We Live In A Society but :/

#franposting #anyway its also like. maam. youre old enough to be my mom. im ur kids age #idgaf that i have a desk job and my own office you are clearly My Superior and i will walk across hot coals for you #everyone is SO mean esp to english as additional language learners #and im just. i will fucking kill you all #also the ABSOLUTE like. messes people leave? or just ignore the staff? dont stop and chat? #like yeah we dont speak the same language and sometimes conversations are hard but like. try ur fuckin Best #anyway this isnt even really pride this is just #rage and disgust at how middle class white collar workers treat housekeeping and maintenance #maybe i just got used to growing up poor and working class #and now working an office job im like. wtf. yall really act like this to another human being wtf #theyre not even actively rude its just like. omg dont create extra work thats not her job #stop and say hi and chat. TREAT HER LIKE A COWORKER BC SHE FUCKIN IS #SHES NOT UR GODDAM NANNY SHES A HUMAN BEING I S2G #its made worse by the fact that mt workplace is REDACTED and therefore should know/do better

[barbatusart]

bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)

wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here

wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)

but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things

on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning

Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.

may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol

#wyll ravengard #baldur’s gate 3

[nathanielzalexandria]

I love all the headcanons of "Steve is not dumb he's..." Hard of hearing, has poor eyesight, learning disability or his primary language is not English. I particularly enjoyed @dwobbitfromtheshire 's recent headcanon that he's hiding it because his father hates feeling inferior and only Eddie realizes that he is not dumb. But I would like to throw my own hat in the ring.

Steve is not dumb. Actually, he's quite smart and did quite well in school (because his parents would not expect anything less). He just wasn't into nerd culture and everyone just placed their stereotypes and rumours of him being a pretty and privileged rich jock who bought his way out of school but couldn't buy his way into college. Nevermind that he was in the top 10 students of his year and for most of his classes if not topping them and if not he wasn't failing the rest other than one or two science/math-based (rumours say the school forged those marks so that Steve could continue sports) and had a 3.6 GPA. It wasn't enough to get into his Dad's alma mater so his dad dismissed any of the other schools he got accepted into.

He does not try to hide his intelligence from Nancy or the Party, but Nancy had bought into the "Steve is simple-minded " narrative and the like before they got together and failed to realize that they are both in the same AP classes that were full of seniors and in any group or partnered project he more-than-well pulled his weight and had his own insights. So she spreads the narrative to Mike who spreads it to the rest of the party so by the time the events that befan with Dustin asks him for help with his "dog" and developed into concussed in the back of a car while a preteen drove his car, the kids have also bought into parts of the narrative. It doesn't help that he really isn't into the stereotypical nerdy stuff

Even his best friend Robin believed the lie until she worked with him and then got tortured with him by Russians. She eventually realises that he's way smarter in a practical sense than people give him credit for (he did raise himself since he was 11 or so) but does not think of it as stretching into the academic side of his life. She has not stopped calling him "dingus" though.

Eddie on the other hand knows better, which is why when a specific exam was coming up he turned to Steve.

He barged into the Harrington home a day when tye entire party was their.

"Stevie, you either have to tutor me or lend me your notes for this class. I am not failing this class and increasing the possibility of another year at fucking Hawkins."

Mike and Dustin burst out laughing at that before Steve can answer.

"I know you're e bad at that subject, but I didn't realise you were desperate enough to use Steve's notes," Dustin says with that condescending tone that means it should be obvious to Eddie.

Mike snorts at that derisively, "If he even has notes."

"Maybe," Lucas said diplomatically, "there are better options than using Steve's notes?"

Nancy steps up next offering some of her notes and flashcards since she took the class last year/is taking the class, "It's not my strongest subject but if we do a study group I'm sure you won't fail the class."

Eddie stares at the group with growing bewilderment as they agree that Nancy is the best choice while implying that Steve was not. Actually, they were acting as though he was dumb for even asking Steve, which made no sense to him.

Eddie turned his eyes to Steve. His posture by the kitchen island was much more different than when Eddie burst in. He had subtly curled into himself as if to make himself smaller, shoulders tense and a resignation on his face as if he's been through this conversation so many times before.

It was almost as if...

"You guys think that Steve is dumb, don't you?"

There was the type of silence that only comes when the quiet part is said outloud.

"No we don't think Steve's dumb," Robin begins and Eddie can hear the 'but' before she even said it, "But you know he wasn't good at the school part of school."

She continued to ramble on from there but Eddie did not hear any of it. He was too busy reevaluating the group he was with and rechecking old memories and facts to see if there was any inkling of truth to this strange idea that even the older teens should know isn't true.

It took him a moment to find the answer, and when he did he could not stop the derisive laugh that burst out and interrupted Robin's ramble.

"You guys fucking bought into the rumours, didn't you? I expect that from the kids maybe even Johnathan, maybe even Robin because of you became friends after he left school, but not from you, Nancy."

Nancy had that look on her face that she got when she was ready to argue but Eddie steamrolled over it.

"Jesus H Christ! Weren't y'all together for a whole fucking year? How do you not know that he was at the top of his year when you were together? Unless you dismissed that in favour of believing the rumours that his parents paid for his grades and the school wanted to make sure he kept on playing sports?"

He paused for a second waiting for someone to contradict him, but the look on Nancy's face was one of scrambling to defend herself. He sighed at that; she still wasn't getting it and it a sweeping look at the others proved they were lost too.

"Even if they paid off the school he would not have been in the top ten of his year, he would be like Carver and Hagan whose parents paid and their grades were just good enough to get into a decent college without too many questions. And they would not have kept on giving him high grades after he stopped doing any kind of sport in his last 2 years at that dump. Hell if Hargrove wasn't such a fucking beast at sports he would have been told he would have to repeat his senior year with me."

"It's okay Eddie; leave it go." He turned a fake sunny smile with his eyes tightly shut towards Eddie as if to pacify him.

Eddie turned to Steve who had yet to say anything throughout Eddie's diatribe up until that moment. He just continued to robotically make dinner for the party as though nothing was wrong, as though the hurt dripping off him didn't matter.

"I'm not letting this go! They had classes with you, some of which I'm pretty fucking sure were AP classes. If I had the attendance needed I would have graduated last year because of you, Stevie. So excuse me if I'm a bit annoyed that our friends are so blinded by a rumour that they can't fucking see your Salutatorian medal. Hanging. Right. There!"

All eyes except Eddie and Steve's turned in the direction that Eddie pointed at.

And there on the wall, was a framed silver medal with the word "Salutatorian" emblazoned on it. The party immediately burst into chaos amongst each other.

"Now, pretty boy, are you gonna tutor me or what?"

Or it goes something like that, I'm not sure.

#dustin immediately tries to bring up D&D and immediately gets shut down #later they collectively lose their shit when they find out he got into a college #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[queenofcoquette]

how to be ‘that girl’ at school

hey loves! i want to talk about being that girl. what it means to be her and how you can be your best self while at school! im gonna give some academic tips, tips on putting out good energy, looking and feeling your best, etc!

how to prepare:

write down your goals for this school year and some things you want to do. since im going to a new school i’ve been thinking about how im going to introduce myself and things like that.

what are your academic goals?

what do you want to do differently this year?

what new thing can you try this year?

what can you improve on this year?

once you know the changes you want to make you need to think about how you’re going to implement these.

academic:

make to-do lists. always keep a calendar and a list of assignments to do, tests to study for, etc. stay up to date with what you need to do.

take notes while in class. always take notes, especially in math and science. in math i always write down formulas and things like that.

do practice outside of school (i use khan academy for math practice, quizlet and quizizz for memorizing for science)

get your work done right when it’s assigned. work on beating procrastination. keep to-do lists and when you have free-time just get your work out of the way.

energy:

take good care of yourself.

be observant. the people you surround yourself with not only subconsciously effect your behavior and your speech habits, but it can also effect whether or not you get into drama. to put it simply- observe how ppl act and if u get the sense that someone’s fake or dramatic, be cautious.

stay out of drama. this is a big one- don’t get involved. don’t tell gossipy ppl how you feel about things, don’t get in the middle of things you don’t need to. put your energy towards academics, sports, hobbies and real friends. i always listen to drama but never comment on it.

if you have a problem with someone- have a private conversation. a big thing is when you have a problem with someone try just talking to them about it, there’s always a chance that they’ll change. maybe they don’t know how they come across. always do that before gossiping.

appearance:

prioritize being healthy on the inside. always work on how you’re eating, drinking enough water, etc. work on your gut health, staying active and taking care of your body. when you do that you immediately look and feel better, because your body is working at it’s best!

just have good hygeine and be clean. so many ppl at school have poor hygeine and its just- disgusting. STAY CLEAN! brush and floss your teeth, wear deodorant, shower, take care of your skin and hair. 

have a good fragrance. this is just a fun one but having a good scent always attracts people. at school i used to get told i smelt really nice and ppl noticed that. (i also shave my arms and legs all the time and wear a ton of lotion so i got known for having “barbie arms”)

wear whatevers comfortable and what YOU like. wear what feels good and what you’re comfortable with. school’s not a fashion show so if you don’t want to dress up you don’t have to, but it’s nice to put a little bit of effort into your look, making sure you look clean and just orderly. im probably picky about this cuz i went to a military school but it’s good to just look a little proper.

overall:

just define what being that girl means to you. for me it’s being my best- being healthy, active, getting good grades and just being kind. find who you want to be and work towards that. remember, progress isn’t linear, and learn from your mistakes. im sure this school year we’ll all learn so many lessons and grow a ton as people! always be open minded to change and observe. you’re already that girl, you just need to take care of yourself and have good habits.

#that girl #that girl 2023 #self improvement #pink pilates princess #back to school #girlblogging #queenofcoquette

[deathbecomesthem]

Crawling to the Finish | Part 1 of 4 | 2.6K

I am queuing up all 4 parts of this story, and they will all be released throughout the week on the dates that are indicated on the Materlist. This story is already completed, and I do not intend to revisit it for editing. My emotional labor on this one has already been done.

Warnings: There will be lots of descriptions of medical stuff. The reader is physically disabled due to an undefined accident. Major bone trauma. Lots of talk about pain. Later parts are going to have smut, because disabled people have sex like everyone else.

Summary: You have to go back to school while still recovering from surgery. Principal Higgins is determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so he assigns someone to help you get around.

A/N: The physical disability described in this series are my own. The experiences are very close to what my own. Be kind.

This one goes out to CJ - you helped me carry my books my junior and senior years of high school because you got to leave class early. You were a real one.

 **

The crutches rubbed the skin of your armpits raw. You’d tried everything. Your mom has sewn pieces of flannel over the arm rests to try to make it more comfortable. It didn’t matter. The only solution was to give it time, let your skin grow tougher. These crutches would be your best friends for the foreseeable future.

The immediate concern after your initial recovery was getting you back to “normal” life. That meant school. The thought of trying to wade through the crowds at Hawkins High while balancing on your crutches was enough to send you into a fury. It was so unfair. Your parents and the administration were determined to make it work.

You would be allowed to leave your classes 5 minutes early, working your way through empty hallways. You could carry your backpack to your classes, despite the rule about keeping them in lockers. You can’t imagine trying to rest your tender hip on the cold desks that could be found in every classroom, but Principal Higgins has a solution for that. One that you’ve promised yourself you’ll never use.

“I’m not sitting on a donut.” Your mom has tried to show you how much more comfortable you would be sitting on a donut designed for hemorrhoid pain. “I’d rather die. I’ll deal with the pain.”

Dealing with the pain was something you always did. You learned early on that complaining about it wouldn’t make it lessen, it just made the people around you make sympathetic noises that set you on edge.

Being on edge is your new normal. Everything set you off. You took everything personally. If someone was overly nice to you, you took it as an insult. Everyone wanted to help, but you wanted to do it yourself. You were so tired of people using you to make themselves feel better. “Oh, I helped that poor cripple girl today when she was struggling with the door. Aren’t I special?”

So, you taught yourself how to do everything – with adjustments. Because you didn’t want to miss out on more than you had to. You gained stamina. You once crutched 3 miles with a group of friends to watch a fireworks display. It almost killed you, and you couldn’t lift your arms the following day, but you did it. And you watched those fireworks with your head rested in your boyfriend’s lap. He never asked if you were ok. He never suggested that maybe he should have stayed back with you and watched them from the back of his truck. So, you did it, and you hid the pain.

It only reinforced the idea that you had to be better at pretending to be fine when that same boyfriend cheated on you while you were in the hospital recovering from surgery last year. You had insisted he not miss junior prom because of you, insisted he take your friend. Megan was one of your best friends, and she was more than happy to do it. You didn’t know that they’d been secretly fucking for months.

Your brain knew that he was a dick, and that what he did was fucking awful. You also knew that you were a burden to everyone around you. Of course he wanted out, but how do you break up with a cripple without being an asshole? The answer was that you didn’t. But that was last year, and this year you didn’t have to worry about boys and friends. You just had to worry about making it to graduation. Fuck the rest of it. You would crawl onto that stage if you had to.

**

The first morning back to school after the most recent surgery came halfway through your senior year, 3 weeks after having your sixth major hip repair surgery. The previous five were failures. This is a last-ditch effort with a new surgeon. As soon as you turned 18, you left the pediatric orthopedic surgeon you’d been seeing for the last 5 years – he was one of the best in the country – to see someone new. Someone that wouldn’t attach the expectations of pediatric care with your treatment plan anymore. You need a life, and you’ve already lost so much time.

When you saw the new doctor, he looked at your images and said, “this is a mess.” One 6-inch rod attached to your thigh bone and at least 8 pins holding the failed hip fusion in place. His treatment plan was, “let’s take it all out and see what happens.” He promised if you gave it a full 6 weeks to see what happens, he’d do a full replacement. He’d give you your life back.

 So, you let him have his little experiment with you. You let your parents hope for some miracle, let them ask their church friends to pray for you. You give your doctor the agreed upon 6 weeks to ”see what happens”, and then he’ll take that diseased bone out of your body and replace it with metal, plastic, and ceramic.

Today is the day you crutch your ass back into high school and try to have a normal day. Completing course work at home has been a breeze, but the district is determined to not be labeled as unfriendly to disabled people, so you’re here now. The first three periods are ok, it’s English, Algebra, and a typing class. Painful, but bearable. The fourth class of the day, American History, started with a bang.

Mr. Willis is a short man with a perpetually annoyed expression. He is known for openly mocking his female students. His room smelled of onions, and his short sleeved white button up shirts always sported yellow-green armpit stains. The onion smell was always worse when he moved around the room, his arms lifted high in the air to get a point across.

 The class starts, as all classes do, with a roll call. Perfectly reasonable, nothing out of the ordinary until he reaches your name.

“Y/N – you’re gracing us with your presence today?” His eyes are glaring at you from behind his desk. “That’s a shame.” He stands and walks over to you, his stench trailing behind him, “I need you to go to Vice Principal Brobeck’s office immediately.” He has a disciplinary slip already filled out in his hand.

“What?” You can’t help your tone; it’s confused and annoyed. How could you possibly be in trouble when it’s been weeks since you last sat at this desk.

“Your truancy needs to be addressed by the administration. A string of unexcused absences. Go!” He barks out the last, finger pointing to the door, and you can’t help but scoff at him.

“Uh, fine, I’ll go. Can I ask you, though, are you blind?” You wave your crutches at him while trying to maneuver and get your backpack over your shoulders. “I had surgery.”

He prattles on about your tone and lack of respect to your back as you crutch your way down the long hallway to the administrative offices for the school. You were exhausted already, and adding another trip around the school with your heavy backpack left you feeling angry. You could feel hot tears of frustration burning behind your eyes while you stumble a little at the office door.

The secretary has you take a seat in one of the soft cushion chairs in the entryway, which is a small mercy for your sore hip. Someone is sitting next to you, but you barely register his presence in your current state of distress and pain.

“Uh, what the hell did you do to get sent down to the office?” His voice is playful with you, but you’re not in the mood to engage with anyone.

“My existence in this building is enough, apparently.”

Before he can manage a response, the Vice Principal’s door opens, and he calls your name. The boy in the chair next to you tries to help with your bag, but you just snatch it out of his hands and throw it over your shoulders before crutching into the inner office.

“So, Mr. Willis says you’ve been truant. Do you have an explanation?” You can tell by his glassy eyes that he’s just going through the motions without actually taking in the situation sitting right in front of his face.

“I’m sorry, are you serious right now?” This gets his attention. You can practically see smoke coming out of his ears at your attitude, until he really takes a look at you. The crutches, the obvious pain in your face. “I’ve been out for 3 weeks because I had surgery. I’m back because Principal Higgins insisted the school could accommodate my needs. Call my parents if you want.”

He has your mother on the phone in an instant. You imagine her sitting at the kitchen table just waiting for a call from the school, which is probably exactly what she’s been doing. She’s devoted years to your recovery. As soon as Mr. Brobeck says the word “truant”, you can hear her yelling through the phone line, demanding to speak to Principal Higgins. So it goes.

**

The boy is still sitting in a chair waiting for whatever punishment is coming for him when you exit the office with both principals at your heels. Higgins is falling all over himself apologizing, promising you’ll have no more problems with Mr. Willis when he spots Eddie.

“Munson, you want to get out of detention?” Your eyes are drawn back to the boy, finally taking him in fully. He’s shaggy haired, wearing leather and denim with big rings adorning his hands. A metalhead. In Hawkins.

“Uh, yes sir.” He’s standing wearing an open face, ready to accept any terms that are offered to him. Your assumption is that most of the staff at the school would use any excuse to give him detention or get him expelled.

“Y/N is going to need someone to help her get from class to class,” You start to protest, but Higgins speaks over you, “how do you feel about taking on that responsibility? You’ll have to leave your classes a few minutes early and make sure she can get around the school without a problem.”

“Of course. If that’s ok with her.” He looks to you. You have no choice but to agree, how can you say no with him looking at you like that? His eyes pleading.

So, it was decided. Eddie Munson, the problem child of Hawkins, would escort you between classes. The assumption from Higgins is that you’ll be happier with a little errand boy helping you, but this boy likes to talk.

“So, what’s with the sticks?” He’s sitting with you while you wait for the hallways to clear before heading to your next class. Would it be rude to tell him to leave me alone?

“It’s complicated. I had surgery a few weeks ago. I’ll probably have another one in a few weeks.” It’s all you can offer.

“Woah, that sucks. Are you new? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Not new. I’ve lived in Hawkins forever.” You could explain that you’ve been in and out of school for the last few years due to your accident and subsequent surgeries, but you don’t have the strength. It also bores you to think about having that conversation with someone new.

“Really? How have I never seen you before?” He’s trying to be friendly. Don’t be a dick to him.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re just not very perceptive.” It’s a low blow, but he laughs at it, which is promising. “Listen, I’m really drained. Can we just sit here?”

“Yeah, no problem. Sorry.” He looks genuinely apologetic, but something about this interaction is different than what you’re used to. He’s not looking at you like you’re broken. He’s talking to you with interest, not pseudo sympathy.

“It’s ok. Ask me questions another time.” You let your head lean back against the wall and try to block out the noise in the room, and the pain zipping down your leg. This last surgery was a short one, but it left you drained. You feel loose, like your body is coming apart without the metal holding you together. You think it must be in your head, and remind yourself that you only need to get through a few weeks of this. It’s nothing, a few weeks is nothing.

 **

You and Eddie have lunch together at his regular lunch table, which you agreed to because he promised his friends would leave you alone if he told them to. And they did, mostly, even though you got a lot of side eyes. Especially from the younger ones. You could see them practically vibrating with the need to talk to you. Especially the one in the hat. You can tell he’s gonna go for it before his mouth even opens.

“So, Eddie tells us he’s helping you get around for your classes.” The kid is being casual, and it’s so endearing, you can’t even be mad. A pretzel hits the kid in the face, Eddie looks like he’s ready to leap over the table and strangle him.

“Down boy, it’s ok.” You give him a little smile, so he knows you’re not mad. “Yes, Eddie’s helping me so he can get out of detention. It works out.” You give the kid the best smile you can manage, which you’re sure looks weak on your blood drained face.

The boy nods a little and says, “That’s a sweet deal for him, though, isn’t it? He gets to leave classes early and he gets out of detention.” Another pretzel is lobbed at the kid’s face, and now you’re giggling.

“You’re definitely right, I’m not sure what I’m getting out of it.”

“Can I ask –“ before the words come out of his mouth, Eddie is walking over to put his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Dustin, what did we talk about?” Dustin, you’ll remember that.

“You said that you had a friend joining us and we had to leave her alone. But –“ Eddie tightens his grip, but Dustin persists, “BUT, I just want her to know that as a fellow disabled person, she can talk to me! Ok, I’m done now.”

The rest of the lunch period goes by without any incidents, but Dustin does slide over half of his oatmeal cookie to you at one point with a giant grin on his face. You mouth a little “thanks” and give him a weak smile.

Eddie gets you to and from the last few classes of the day, and even walks you out to your car after your last class. As the day goes on you, you decide to accept his help with as much grace as you can. Especially because the situation is actually helping him too. It makes it easier to swallow. Less like pity.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning, Ilene.” His delivery of the joke is lame, and you let it hang in the air for a minute, letting him squirm. “You get it? Ilene?”

“Yeah, I get it Eddie.” You let your face fall, casting your eyes to the floor of your car. “That’s really insensitive. Maybe I should tell Principal Higgins to get me a new errand boy.” You’re trying to bite back the smirk his lame joke is threatening to bring to your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I thought it was funny –“

You’re giggling at his panic, “Eddie, that joke was so lame, it offended me. Do better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x disabled!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #disability in fanfiction

[kimberly-spirits13]

College Jon Kent x Reader HC

I’m not sure what I’d say Jon would major in

Maybe he’s planning on following in his mom’s footsteps of becoming a journalist but idk if he’d like that

So for simplicity sake, you meet in one of the core classes

You and Jon get partnered up for a civics project on the ethics of vigilantism

Jon has had a crush on you since day 1 and is actually kind of shy

He doesn’t want to embarrass himself but he totally is going to

He’s a dork

Wants to meet up in the quad or maybe a study room- not the type to bring you to his dorm on the first meeting 🤚

He gets to know your interests from little hints that you drop and researches them extensively

He did grow up with his mother

It helps that he can sometimes use his super hearing to hear the conversations you and your friends are having

You’ll mention a book or show that you like to someone and he’ll have binged it all

I think he has a high EQ so if you’re stressed about something he’d know before you do

Revealing the entire superboy gig was a bit of a mess

He’s tries to never be late but sometimes he is

I also think Kryptonians are awkward beings on earth simply because they’re trying to function along with weaker humans and not kill anyone

He accidentally reveals who he is by just lifting off the ground and going “Lex is being stupid again got to go”

Poor boy had take 5 exams that week and was running off of coffee and nothing else so he didn’t even realize what he had done

“JOHNATHAN KENT WHAT- WHAT- YOU GET DOWN HERE”

On comes the awkward explanation very quickly of everything before rushing off again to save the day

Yea Clark was not happy about that but at the same time it made him trust you more since he could be certain that Jon was comfortable around you to do that

Lois likes that you keep Jon in line

Make sure he’s going his work and sleeping well for her since she can’t do it herself all the time

He’s the guy to always wear his college sweatshirt because it’s easy

There’s very little effort to be made in running to the university bookstore and grabbing a t and sweatshirt

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #jon kent x reader #jon kent imagine #jon kent #superboy x reader #superboy #superfamily x reader #superfamily

[purrplegyuu]

Barely adults | So Junghwan

Warnings: Poor plot, First time (not penetration), masturbation, only clitoris stimulation actually, both of them are virgins, no actually loss of virginity but kind of, gramatical/spelling mistakes (maybe, english is not my first language), let me know if I'm missing something else.

Pairing: Best friend!Junghwan x Best friend!fem reader.

Word count: 1,6k

hiiiiiiiiiii!, it's been already a month since I started staning Treasure, but this is my first work about one of them. I wrote it at one am (i use to sleep at 8 pm) so that's why there might be a lot of mistakes. I would really appreciate for you to tell me if you find any mistake or if you'd like me to change something.

Remember my ask box is still open (even if i haven't answered any ask yet, so sorry to thos 4 people looool), so feel free to request some words. I write for Txt (obviously), Treasure, Zerobaseone, Seventeen and enhypen (maybe, I'm not sure yet).

That's everything, enjoy and have a nice day!

Us. Both barely adults who don’t really know what are we doing. Or what are we going to do.

“Have you thought about your career?” I ask. Is a trending topic in both of our houses since we both decided to take a gap year right after we graduated from high school. 

Yeah, we are planning on attending college, however, we were both too tired after three large years of taking high school a little too seriously. My parents were so mad when I told them about my decision, and even threatened me to throw me out of home. They eventually forgot about it, but before that happened, we were in a neverending fight for three months. 

His situation had been a little bit different.

He never told me about it, but I noticed. Starting from the day he told his parents about his decision, when he showed up to my bedroom window on the second floor (I still don’t really know how he made it) and asked to sleep on the couch of my room. Secondly, the one time I went to his house to hang out a bit and heard his parents telling him horrible things about how disappointed they were. And finally, tonight, when he asked me to meet at his older brother’s apartment, just for me to find him on the big bed with a pair of big, red eyes. 

I’ve got to say I understand our parents. He was first place in class and I was second. Must have been hard for them. And I have to confess it–I feel guilty, I am guilty. I was the one who proposed it and convinced him. Guess I just didn’t thought about the consequences.

However, it’s been nine months since those events now, and it’s already time for us to choose what college career are we going to study now.

“Junghwan?” I called him since he hadn’t answered. 

He’s looking right straight to his brother's desk next to the bed.

The silence grows more awkward and he just doesn’t seem to care I’ve came in his brother’s apartment minutes ago. 

“Junghwan!” I almost scream, finally catching his attention. He looks at me for a while before asking “Hm?”

“You finally decided what to study?” We’ve been both too lost about it. 

He shakes his head no before falling silent once again. 

After a few seconds, his hand lifts up from the edge of the bedroom, and offers it to me. I take it, and soon he pushes me onto his lap.

“Wa!” I yell, impressed by his sudden strength over me.

We’ve never been like this before. We’ve never been this close before. Yet, I’ve always dreamt about it.

“Ju-junghwan, you’re too clumsy” I jokingly said, trying to act like I didn’t get what is he doing. I move on his lap trying to stand up, however, he takes both of my hands and forces me to move closer to him. 

“”I’m not” he looks right into my eyes while breathing on my face. His breath feels addictive like drugs, it is hard for me to breathe, and my lower lip trembles from the massive desire of kissing him.

And it looks like he’s feeling just like me, because it takes him just a few seconds to melt his lips into mine in a way I’ve never seen before, not even in the best porno.

His lips move away from mine. Our foreheads touch, our noses meet, and we both remain silent for a few seconds while we catch our breath. And then, he kisses me again. His hand lets mine go, and I hold myself on his shoulders while one of his hands take the back of my neck and the other one takes my thigh from under the light green dress I decided to wear (for him, but that’s supposed to be a secret).

Everything is so fast, so rude and so forced it scares me. It doesn’t feel romantic but desperate; it doesn’t feel fluffy but feverish.

I take his hand when I feel it reaching my underwear, and cut the kiss while trying to breathe again. He looks at me confused. His red swollen lips wanting nothing but to kiss me again, his hand on my neck taking me strongly, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the moment and his dark pupils waiting for me to say something.

“Junghwan,”I try to speak but I’m just too embarrassed to speak–because I’m red as an apple, because I’ve just kissed him and because… “Junghwan, I haven’t… had sex yet”

He laughs lowly, taking me again into his hands to kiss me one more time. “Don’t worry,” He says between kisses. “me neither”

His lips move to my cheek, leaving some wet kisses before moving to my ear, then to my neck and finally my clavicles. My hands squeeze his shoulders strongly while lifting my dress slowly, making my skin crawl.

He stops kissing me to look right into my eyes to find my agreement, which he happens to find fastly before taking my dress off of my body. My hand runs down his abdomen, looking for the hem of his black hoodie to try to lift it up. He helps me do it, lifting his arms so I can take it off, and once I’m done, he switches our positions, throwing me to the bed. 

He goes back to kiss my lips while his hands caresses my skin slowly, playing with my sanity by taking the hem of my panties and drawing the outline of it. His lips move to my ear, leaving a kiss in there before whispering “You look so pretty… all messy and small under me” and “Isn’t it funny? You’re the one who always leads me, and now I’m on top of you” before laughing.

I’m the extrovert one, I’m the noisy one. Whenever someone approaches both of us, it is because they’re trying to know about me. I’ve heard people telling he’s always been only a shadow always walking behind me. Yeah, I’m socially a dom, but he’s been secretly a sexual dom all this time.

I turn around to look at his eyes, silently begging for him to not tease me any second more, and that’s when I feel his hand move in my panties, touching my skin everytime closer to my cunt. And I thought he wasn't going to give everything I asked for so easily, however, his finger started circling my clitoris right after he reached it. He kept on kissing my right clavicle while his other hand moved to my back, looking for the clasp of my bralette. He undoes it and takes it off completely. 

I feel my stomach tensing up for the first time, making me whine loudly and arch my back. “Have you touched yourself before?” He asks. I nod slowly.

“Ye-yes, but never came” And never felt that good.

My stomach tenses a second time, making me whine even louder and higher. I take his arm as if wanting to slow down. 

“Why?” He asks, making my cheeks even hotter. 

“I-I’ve never-“ A moan escapes from my throat. “I’ve never been able to.” Every time I touched myself, I would just stimulate my clitoris for minutes until the feeling is so overwhelming I can’t deal with it and stop touching it. I even thought I was asexual. However, I’ve always wanted to touch myself again every night after seeing Junghwan’s abs.

His fingers speed up, making me scream his name loudly while pleading for him to slow down, however, we both know that's not what I want. I squeeze his arm harder, my hips move by themselves, my back arches, my lower abdomen is so tense I feel I’m about to explode. And then, an overwhelming feeling floods me up, making me moan while my voice breaks out because of the way he kept touching my clit even after I came. Finally, he slowed down until he stayed still while his hand rested in my panties. 

My eyes still closed, my chest rising and falling as I try to catch my breath. And once I think I’m right, I open my eyes, just to find him looking at me closely with the sweetest smile ever. 

everything around me is spinning, my head hurts a little, I feel the sweat on my forehead and everything not called 'Junghwan' feels so unnecessary.

He hugs me, leaving a kiss on my forehead before turning on the lamp on the nightstand and turning the room’s lights off. He knows me so well, he knows I’m still afraid of the dark.

#junghwan smut #junghwan #treasure | purrplegyuu #barely adults | junghwan #treasure smut #treasure hard hours #kpop smut #am I the first one writing smut for him? omg such an honor #purrplegyuu #best friend junghwan

[mychlapci]

… I like to think Sentinel would manage to condition himself completely by accident. Most of it could have been avoided by just not trying to optimize his studying time by taking his supplements at the same time. He probably started off like you said, trying to hold still as his /medical device/ expanded in his valve to connect with his gestation tank. Maybe even felt a little uncomfortable with how wet he got, feeling it pump the nutrients into him until his belly was swollen with more than just his bitlet. And of course he wouldn’t just overload himself afterwards to get rid of the charge, it’s not like he’s INTO this! That would be ridiculous. Him, a Prime and an Elite Guard, getting charged up over carrying of all things… Sentinel growing increasingly horny until just prepping the applicator has his sensitive pussy drooling, day by day subconsciously anticipating his lessons more and more as the mental link between being horny and being a good mommy strengthens. But then throw housekeeping into the mix—Sentinel Prime would never stoop so low as to be dirty, but he IS a bachelor, after all.

Maybe he sits up one day and feels a little broody, a little like nesting. Well, he’s already taking his supplements while he does his parenting classes. He might as well look up some tips on keeping things clean. Getting up from his desk afterwards, tingling with charge that he keeps denying exists as he sets about tidying up the kitchen. He needs to sanitize it after cleaning the applicator after all. Subconsciously setting his hand on his belly as he straightens up from scrubbing the floor and deciding he’s earned a reward with all this hard work. Rushes back to his berth to wring out a weak, dry overload from his limp spike, just enough to sate the urge but not to clear the charge—belly swollen with a bitlet, his valve and node are his frame’s higher priority. And maybe he adds his little rewards to the schedule, right after completing his lessons and preparing his hab for a bitlet! A hardworking Prime like Sentinel deserves a little tlc after all.

But after a few weeks, he finds himself rocking on the applicator. Grinding in his chair as his calipers cycle down and clutch at what is basically a false spike anyway… a little moan sneaking free as his last video ends with a “you’re doing a great job, carrier!” or perhaps a “you’ll be such a good mommy!” Well, it’s just more efficient to get his overload NOW rather than wait, right? A good Prime shouldn’t waste time when he could be working on other things. So he moves his daily overload to lesson time, feeling guilty and a little embarrassed… at least until his next vid brings up how an increase in libido and sensitivity are perfectly normal for carriers. Of course there’s nothing wrong with Sentinel, nothing odd here. He’s just a perfect, textbook case of a carrying mech. In fact, the neediness might even be a sign that he needs MORE supplements a day than he’s been getting. Might be time to talk to a medic.

And of course, months down the line when he’s so swollen that he can’t even SEE his array let alone play with it, he might even realize what he’s done. Well, the apron made sense when he scratched his handsome paint one too many times while cleaning the hab, but did it need to be so pretty? Did his valve need to clench when his vids praised him? Did his panels need to heat up when he cooked or cleaned or set the pump up for his poor, leaky titties? But it’s too late to turn back, too hard to untrain his reactions (especially when he can’t bring himself to want to, too used to multiple overloads daily). Too much effort when no one needs to know.

And then the bitlet finally arrives, and all Sentinel can think is that his last vid kept saying how beneficial it is for a youngling to grow up with a sibling or two… and what a perfect little mommy he is, for only doing what’s best for his little one. Well, the office hasn’t burned to the ground without him yet, now has it? Maybe he could do some paperwork from home. At least until the bitlets wean. That’s awfully young, though… maybe when they start at school.

of course it’s Sentinel’s own fault. He’s so stupid. If he hadn’t tried to optimize his study hours and transfluid implants, then he wouldn’t have ended up discovering getting this damned pregnancy fetish.

i love to imagine Sentinel realizing, despite himself, that he’s conditioned himself into associating his pregnancy with overloading and having to face the fact that he doesn’t have it in him to change it… if he even tries to clean, or watch a video or read a book about carrying he gets so unbearably horny and it’s too hard to resist. He can always reason that his frame is simply… demanding the nutrients for the bitlets, nothing more, just a basic reaction. He’s doing fine. Getting incredibly wet just while cleaning is… a side-effect he’s willing to push through. No one needs to know.

oOoh Sentinel getting himself knocked up again… that’s just exquisite. I mean, back then, it was just an accident, but this time… no, of course it was an accident. He just accidentally wrapped his legs around the designated mech and made him overload inside, he wouldn’t have done that if he’d known he was gonna end up knocked up again, surely. But it’s alright, a youngling should have a sibling. 

i am so glad that my fantasy, regarding any mech at all times, is now applicable to Sentinel. I need him visibly pregnant, swollen with his second baby, with his first one latched onto his chest as he feeds it<33

#valveplug #hjgsjagjsjjj.... god #mommy sentinel #pregnancy mention #texty

[running-with-kn1ves]

Walla....kn1ves....genius big brain yandere writer....i just (re)found your Yves work (im sure you saw me freak out in the tags lmao) if you have the time/energy/inspo pls i beg you for a speck, a crumb, a droplette, ANYTHING of my baby Yves x fem!reader. I'm not sure how specific is too specific but I have a truckload of daydreams and prompts for this man dc im down BAD BAD for the way you write him. I'm not sure if this is too specific of a request but can it be yves holding himself back constantly because he wants to *romance* the reader but its so obvious he's itching for more until one day he finally snaps and takes her (specifically him giving her his virginity and whoops maybe going crazy when he finds out she isnt one)? I'm just obsessed with his characterization and want to see him in a ton of situations and feeling/reacting to different things. The stern dom undertones his whole vibe has disguised by a friendly foreign guide 🥵 The drabble of him was sooooo good and such a tease of his personality, it's so enticing hahaha. If that prompt is no good or doesn't inspire you then anything else is fine and ofc if you have no inspiration for Yves at all then that's a-okay too!!! Thank you sooooo much for thinking up that beautiful man and sharing him with us!!! Hope you enjoy your holidays💞💞💞

A/N: Ugh I'm so sorry I took so long in answering 😭😭 I was gonna write like a whole piece but my time has been cut dramatically, so please accept this poor little piece!! I was honestly so overjoyed at seeing your tags, it makes me so happy to see people's reactions to my stuff ┗( T﹏T )┛I wish I could have more time to write for this because I love the concept, I'm a huge fan of the "mysterious foreign guide who's just a little too friendly" kind of trope. Thank you so much for your support anon and I hope you enjoy this!! OG piece here for any of you nerds!

TW: Kidnapping, implied dubcon/noncon, manipulation

It wasn’t hard to notice Yve’s shift in behavior. Well, this shift out of many. When you first met him, he gave off a kind, well-meaning but nervous vibe. He did his best to show you around, to make you comfortable and converse with you in english to the best of his knowledge. That kind persona shifted into something more… desperate; obsessive, once he brought you back to his apartment. He was still kind, still well-meaning and observant to your needs. He apologized profusely when you got upset from how he kept you from leaving, promising that you weren’t missing anything important in class and that he could show you real culture instead! What could you learn from a textbook that would be better than seeing the country itself?

But time and time again, Yves made excuses to keep you inside, to make you stay by his side whether through photoshoots or studying, with him as your “teacher”. You had to learn the basics before taking such a “big” step out into his country, right? Unfortunately for you, Yve’s only taught information on the most trivial subjects. From words like “textbook” to “glass”, you were able to make meaningless sentences that wouldn’t serve you well in conversing with native speakers outside of Yve’s little apartment. Sure, it might help you occasionally, but it got you no where closer to understanding Yve’s rushed mumbling and incoherent rambling. 

With your sudden move to his apartment and his new change in conduct, Yves had slowly become less generous. He didn’t make as much of an effort to talk in english anymore, and made far less points to explain himself. You couldn’t tell what caused this new change-- a change that you were soon starting to accept as Yves showing his true colors. The man was still attentive to your needs, still caring and kind-- but the posessiveness that had slipped out almost entirely seemed to be taking hold. And while you’d think that a growing obsession would make it more beneficial to you-- it in fact, made your difficulty increase tenfold. Yves began to direct you on what you should wear, when you should eat, what you should do for the day.

 Not only that, but his attentiveness to…more intimate needs were far more prevalent as well. Whether it was bathing, or the need that pulsed between your legs, Yve’s was there to try and take care of it. You pushed him away multiple times, awkwardly trying to tell him that you were fine-- but it never seemed to stick. He always just looked at you with a tilted, confused expression, muttering in his native tongue as if he didn’t understand. So when the foreign guide began to sleep next to you instead of the cot on the floor, and began to press his morning erection agaist your backside sleepily, you knew your protests weren’t having any effect.

You would have walked right out of that teensy apartment the moment you felt he didn’t listen-- if you weren’t so afraid. If you weren’t afraid of the loaded handgun in his locked nightstand drawer, or how easily he could destroy your life at your new university-- which he mentioned offhand multiple times in a casual manner-- you would have walked out. The power he held against you, a foreign student with failing grades and no money, was too much for you to ignore. So, you decided to bide you time. It was only a matter of weeks until he got bored with you, you decided. But his new actions didn’t seem to prove that. 

In fact, the lustful, mischievous look he gave you that evening was the complete opposite. His scrawny frame jumped atop yours, hooking his hands behind your neck and leaning in to try and kiss you. He had planned an unusually fancy dinner, lighting candles you had never seen in his apartment before and bringing a bottle of wine with some italian takeout. You tried to question him about the mound of pillows and blankets on his balcony, the sudden romantic lighting, but the male only gave you a broad statement on how it was a “celebration” of sorts.

Yves’ sudden prowling mood after dinner wasn’t a complete shock-- considering you felt his eyes on you the entire evening-- but it still caught you a tad off guard. You tried to reject him, to push him away after each kiss, but it was done with such little effort and such great fear that you stayed silent once he muttered in an annoyed tone in his own language. Yves took your silence as a surrender, friskily lowering his hand under your shirt to caress your abdomen. He rambled against your flesh in half-english as he kissed you up and down, not afraid to let out vocal little noises of pleasure, or grunts of satisfaction ones he heard your breath hitch or a hum of desire come from your lips. 

But it wasn’t until he uttered a sentence with a familiar word, did you actually reply to him. You recognized the term from messing around with your friends, when you jokingly learned dirty words from your textbooks and the internet to use when you finally entered the country. You never expected to actually utilize them unless you went to a club or bar and happened to meet someone. One of those words, was ‘virgin.’ A more tame term compared to the bunch you had memorized, but one that you and your friends had idiotically decided to research. Though, it seemed your stupid endeavors had paid off. 

As Yves repeated himself, you began to understand the sentence a bit more. The man was seeming to imply… you were a virgin? Something about you both no longer virgin-ing? Maybe he was saying that he was going to ‘virgin’ you? You couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, only mustering up the courage to poorly explain your sexual status to him, first in english and then in a broken version of his language. You tried to repeat yourself, thinking you might have said your statement wrong-- but Yve’s shocked expression and sudden lack of kisses seemed to prove you wrong. 

“You have…. Sex?” Yve put a hand to his mouth, eyes begging you to respond.

“Uh….yes?” You said with an awkward expression; you hoped he was asking what you thought.

Yve’s let out a choked gasp, looking as if you had crushed his heart in your palm. 

He looked down, voice cracking as he mumbled something incoherent, and likely not understandable to you in the first place. 

“I….I i’m sorry?” You tried to apologize, seeing how shaken Yves had become at finding out you weren’t as inexperienced as he. Despite his eagerness, you could tell he was new to trying to initiate something you had already grown long accustomed to, new to being so intimate. It was actually in part of his eagerness that you realized he wasn’t of the same sexual history. He was full of anticipation and desire, throwing caution and logic to the wind to fulfill what he had read in books and seen in films.

 Yves seemed to treasure the act of losing ones virginity far more than you had-- but you had only noticed it now. The candlelit dinner, the mood-fitting music-- your first experience was nowhere near as romantic. 

Yves seemed shaken, his low, almost sob-filled words growing heavier. He grew more aggressive, seeming to realize something now that he had processed this unexpected news. He had assumed you were just as much of an amateur as him-- that he’d be the one to “deflower” you in an act of passionate romance-- a bubble fantasy that had just been popped. But the male realized-- if he couldn’t have his desired outcome, he’d have to make due with what he had. Which was to make sure you’d fall to your knees, experiencing the best night of ‘passion’ that would make you never want to crawl to another man again. 

He was going to claim you-- to make it so those nights you spent with others never counted. 

You could only understand a fifth of what Yves breathily moaned into your mouth, once again jumping your bones though this time much more roughly. Before you could say anything further you had felt his quick hands unbutton your pants, his own thrown to the floor. He didn’t listen as you begged him to atleast let you move to the bed, where you would no longer be visible to prying eyes on the balcony. But he didn’t care-- Yves had already taken off his shirt, intent on ripping yours away too. He didn’t care anymore if this wasn’t going to be special for the reason he expected-- he was going to make sure you would be left with a night you wouldn’t forget.

#kn1ves rants #knives rants #writing #yandere #tw yandere #YANDERE photographer #x reader #reader insert #self insert #yandere x reader #male yandere #fanfiction #yandere male #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere writing #yanderecore #soft yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere boy #yancore #yandere thoughts #x reader fanfiction

[lolabangtan]

STAY | 15

Back at the dorms, Jungkook misses you madly. Hate, heartbreak, and longing mix in his heart. In public, though, he’s still cold and hurtful towards you – until he discovers who’s his new roommate.

index • previous • next

Word count: 9k

Warnings: smut, dub-con fantasy, attempted infidelity.

# angst, delirious masturbation (?), clumsy anal fingering, noona + mommy kink, Jungkook is kind of messed up in this one (but who’s to blame for that except me lol), scent kink, cum play, crying, awkward hyung-junior bonding!!

A/N: thanks to Generic Club Girl 1 for starring in this chapter.

“I will issue a restraining order if you keep doing this.”

It’s too early in the morning to put up with Kim Seokjin and his antics. You haven’t even finished your first coffee and here he is, standing in front of your door like a moron. Or a creep.

“Come on,” he says, still adamant, “I’ll give you a ride. Or maybe it’s better if your boyfriend doesn’t see us together?”

His words fuel you, and you frown; why should you refrain from seeing anyone? It’s his problem if Jungkook prefers to be petty and not talk to you. In fact, it’s on him if he’s got a problem with you talking to any guy at all. Especially when he’s not willing to talk things out with you.

You groan and go back in to collect your things. “Ugh, okay, let’s go. I’m late anyways, and I don’t have my car yet.” Keys swinging around your finger, you finally beckon Seokjin to follow you down the stairs. “How have you been doing these days since you came back? Do you already have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, I’m moving into the dorms. Namjoon is great and all, but… I don’t wanna feel like I’m taking up space in their tiny flat.”

You roll your eyes. “He’d never think that.”

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the car door for you, and despite your grimace, you get in.

“It won’t be long, just until I find a proper flat that doesn’t stink,” he says, taking the driver’s seat, and smirks. “I think it’ll be fun in the meantime.”

“I’m already sorry for the poor freshman who’ll have to put up with you.”

“Speaking of freshmen…” You close your eyes and throw back your head, already tired of his unfinished question. “You have a class with him today, don’t you? You’ll see him for the first time since last week.”

Ah, it’s been a week already? Felt like a year… Seven days since you last talked to Jungkook, seven days since that awful phone call in which you were called out for doing something you don’t know yet. They never told you. Seven days without seeing him, without hearing his voice, without feeling his warm skin or making him smile. The thought alone makes your heart throb in pain inside your chest.

If only you were not so mad at him to miss him – then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“You’ll work it out, you just need to talk things through with him,” Seokjin suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

But you’d have to get near him in the first place to do that.

And you have yet to figure out how Seokjin might fit into your life, or, for now, whether it is in your best interest to even let him in in the first place. Even though things have been patched up, you still feel a simmering resentment for him inside you; he can’t just show up and ask you to forget about the pain he made you go through in the name of friendship.

“You look different.”

His voice makes you turn your head away from the window. “Hm? I didn’t do anything, though.”

“Not physically, uh…” Seokjin purses his lips. “You feel different. Like, older, in a way – but I guess that’s what happens when time passes.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” you chuckle, frowning in confusion.

But Seokjin’s eyes look softer as they stay glued to the road. For a second you get it – he feels different too, older. Time passes for everyone, even if you are the only one who seems unable to grow out of your shelf of youth. Unable to mature and break through its naivety. Unable to do like everyone else and turn your pain into wisdom instead of letting it turn into resentment.

“You really think so?” you murmur with a hopeful rise in your voice. “Lately I feel like a tall child, crying and fussing about everything.”

He glances at you. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“You must know very few people.”

“Maybe.”

“When did you know it was time to break up with her?” you suddenly ask, leaning back in the seat.

“Uh… It’s a gut feeling? Like, you start seeing signs that you’ve grown apart. I realised I didn’t care anymore, not in the way I should care about my girlfriend, anyways,” Seokjin explains while you stare at him.

His words make you ponder; you don’t feel yourself growing apart from Jungkook, if anything, you feel closer than ever. He’s just going through something, and you’ve probably hurt his feelings. This is all a misunderstanding, that’s it. You care about him in ways you never thought you’d care about anyone – you would live inside his brain and under his skin if you could.

The car pulls into the pavilion’s car park with a swift turn, and you collect your backpack from your feet.

“Just ignore everything I said earlier, you’re not old,” Seokjin jokes, closing the car door. “It’s just that I’ve had a lot on my mind lately too; we old people think a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You shrug it off and say goodbye before he can even blink, not wanting anyone to see you together. Not that it’s a bad thing, but you’d rather avoid giving people something to nibble on. They have an imagination strong enough to come up with unsubstantiated gossip, they don’t need that kind of help.

The halls are as busy as always, lousy Mondays; people running up and down, beams of sunlight coming from the tall windows. It’s first thing in the morning and everyone wants to talk about their weekend.

Except you, maybe – you did absolutely nothing besides binge-watching a show and ignoring Seokjin’s texts.

Okay, here we go.

The words resonate in your head as you mentally prepare yourself to face the recently begun day when someone goes down the stairs behind you. They bump your shoulder on their way down, and you realise in shock that it’s Jungkook; Ari and Jimin are with him, and the former nudges him on the side at his rude gesture towards you. The pitiful look on her face is enough to make you want to throw up and bawl your eyes out.

Maybe this is your chance? Maybe he was trying to catch your attention somehow?

You follow him down the step. “Hey, Jungkook—”

“Let’s just sit there,” he mumbles, not even looking at you, and turns to Ari. “Noona, can you make room for me?”

With a sigh, your friend nods and scoots to the seat on her left so that Jungkook can squeeze in between them. Now the row is full, and there are pretty much no seats left except those in the front row.

At the sight, Soobin rushes to abandon his friends and sits down right in front of the professor’s desk. Jungkook watches the whole thing in silence.

“You never sit at the front,” he says when you take the chair next to him.

Does he think you’re blind—?

Oh, but you’re too tired to fight, so you nod in silence. “I guess I was feeling proactive today.” You suddenly close the book in front of you and turn to him. “So, what’s up? Neither do you.”

“I didn’t want you to sit alone… Everything cool with your boyfriend?” he asks, careful – enough to let you know that there is some gossip going around. “He looks mad pissed. Did you fight—? Sorry, it’s probably none of my business.”

“We didn’t fight,” you reply, “I just want to focus, hence my sitting here. Cool?”

“Cool…”

The class starts shortly afterwards and goes on smoothly. You manage to take notes without letting Soobin distract you too much with his chatter, though the feeling of Jungkook’s gaze burning into the back of your head is far more noticeable than anything else. You don’t know if he enjoyed your little show with Soobin, but you’re pretty sure the kid’s in need of some tough love to learn about boundaries.

When it’s time for lunch, the professor dismisses his class, and everyone leaves the classroom either chatting or with their eyes glued to their mobile phones. You collect your things before Soobin does anything and flee up the steps.

“It was kind of sad, seeing you sitting all alone.” You turn around at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. You roll your eyes by instinct. “Guess you had it coming.”

You scan him head to toe; whatever the reason for the sudden attitude, this pseudo-bad guy thing doesn’t suit him at all. It’s almost embarrassing to watch, honestly, and you want your Jungkook back. Unfortunately, this Jungkook here doesn’t seem really willing to talk things out.

And, unfortunately, you’ve built back up your walls pretty easily, even with him.

“And what did you want me to do instead? Crawl back to the friends that lied to my face because I had no one else to talk to?”

The arrogance disappears from his face and is soon replaced by a slight blush of embarrassment. With a snort, you step forward to take his arm, but Jungkook frowns in pain and shakes off your weak grip.

“Don’t touch me,” he whimpers.

He looks so handsome today, you notice as your eyes are unable to move away from his face; he looks so precious, and you miss him so much. Your heart shrinks in your chest, but you can’t stop looking at him. Your eyes are hungry for him, willing to nourish all the yearning your hands and lips can’t satisfy.

“B— Jungkook,” you groan, his name nothing but a plea, “what is wrong with you? Can you just tell me what’s going on?”

Your words only seem to fuel his irritation. “You know what you did. Don’t come to me until you are ready to answer for it— hyung, noona, let’s go, I’m hungry.”

If looks could kill, Ari’s would certainly do nothing. She’s the last one to turn around and follow Jungkook out of the lecture hall, her eyes lingering with sadness on your face. Maybe she knows something, maybe she feels that there’s something off about this conflict he’s made up. Ari knows you better than anyone in this world, after all – only after Jungkook… or not.

“Jungkook, you haven’t touched your food.”

Yeah, he knows. He knows he’s been staring at the tray ever since they got sat at the table. Jimin had proposed to eat out, but he didn’t want to go anywhere he’s ever been with you before— and even if it’s not like you’ve never been together in the university cafeteria, it hasn’t happened many times. Works for him.

Jungkook plays with the slices of pork, still silent and ignoring Taehyung’s voice, his dull face resting on the open palm of his hand.

“Hey, we can’t take three hours for lunch,” Ari suddenly barks. “Sort it out with your girlfriend or eat.”

He lowers his head. “Noona is not my girlfriend anymore.”

“She actually is,” Taehyung mutters; “you haven’t broken up yet, have you?”

The air feels awkward and silent, a cloud of tiredness heavy on their shoulders. Suddenly, the clinking sound of cutlery dropping on the tray gets their attention.

Jungkook groans loudly and shoves a spoonful of plain rice into his mouth in anger. “Uh, you’re supposed to be on my side, you know?” he then garbles with his mouth full, provoking grossed-out grimaces.

“Uh, we never took your side?” Jimin lets out a confused laugh and crosses his arms. “Never took hers, either. Friends don’t take sides.”

“Then why are you here?”

They share a look before Ari says, “Well, Y/N won’t talk to us, and it’s obvious you’re not okay.”

“So—” Jungkook straightens up in the chair out of pure shock. “You think what she did was right? Is noona the one giving you the cold shoulder? I’m—! Oh God, she was— this is so awful of you, guys.”

“Sorry, can you tune me in? I don’t see what the problem is now,” Jimin groans, his – and everyone’s – tray already empty. They seem no longer phased by the youngest’s fuss.

Ari frowns, totally baffled, and blurts out, “When did we say Y/N did nothing wrong—? Look, Kookie, I think you need to take the rest of the day off, you’re not okay…” Her boyfriend glances at her as if she was talking to a kid. “Take a nap, drink water, meditate, I don’t know… I know it seems like the end of the world, but you just have to, uh, process your feelings, okay?”

He hasn’t cried since the very day it happened. That night, he bawled his eyes out on their couch, weeping and calling for you as he curled up against Jimin. Jungkook can still remember the way his eyes burned the next morning.

Just picturing you with him makes him want to throw up.

With a dry goodbye, Jungkook gets up and decides to follow his friend’s advice. Soon, he ends up in front of the door of his dorm room; he moved in a few days after falling out with you. The dorm supervisor had called a month or so ago saying that he was accepted back in, under the obvious condition of not getting into a fight with anyone – Soobin or not – ever again. Of course, the choice between staying with you and sharing a filthy room with a stranger was clear.

Now it isn’t. At least, for the moment, Jungkook is alone in the room until further notice.

The room is dark when he walks in, closing the door carefully – Jungkook can’t risk the supervisor, who already has enough of a grudge against him, deciding to throw him out. This time he will have nowhere to go.

It’s not until he turns on the light and draws the curtains that he notices the half-empty box on the other bed. Does this mean that his days of sleeping alone are over?  Jungkook isn’t sure if he has the patience to share a room, but it all depends on what kind of roommate he’ll get. Oh, he’s bad at socialising. Nothing makes him more uncomfortable.

Curiosity gets the best of him, and Jungkook ends up walking up to the neatly made bed; there are some records, books, and figurines peeking out of the box. He can recognise a few.

Maybe having a new roommate won’t be that bad.

Now that he thinks of it, he left so much stuff behind after moving back into the dorms. Everything should still be in his room, or well, in the room you used to share. You’re not the crazy kind of ex who burns things— are you?

Ex.

“Fuck.”

It won’t do him any good to keep thinking about you. For the time being, Jungkook should better focus on the club and get through the rest of the year. His parents won’t stop asking him about his freshman year at uni, so he needs good things to say. Especially if they start asking about the nice girl they met at the swimming tournament.

Jungkook wishes he could take the bus instead of his car, but he can’t bring his things back on the bus – being spotted is the last thing he wants because he knows any of your neighbours will start asking questions. ‘Oh, Y/N, where is that handsome boy?’ ‘Did you two fall out? What a pity!’ ‘Ah, so you dumped him. He wasn’t that handsome anyways.’ They will ask you, and you will say that you dumped him for an older guy who probably has all his shit together and can last more than five minutes.

He pulls into the car park after a short ride. Just like he predicted, the lot is empty, so your shiny new boyfriend hasn’t picked you up from work yet.

Sadly, the anger has started to fade into sadness. It gets harder every day not to miss you, not to wonder if there’s anything he could have done to keep you by his side. Should he have listened to you more? Should he have pleased you better, should he have tried harder to become a boyfriend you would not be ashamed of? Or did Jungkook never have a real chance to be with you?

The flat welcomes him with complete silence when he walks in.

After mindlessly standing in the middle of the hall for a solid minute, he finally begins to discern all the sounds he has become familiar with – the soft rumble of traffic, the muffled horns, and the chirping birds. The neighbour’s television can be heard through the wall.

How could Jungkook let himself get attached so foolishly to a place? Why did he allow his heart to feel at peace here?

If only he could go back in time and keep all his hatred inside. Letting go of it, letting it turn into wise, healing love was a mistake. Now all he has is the choking feeling that he’s missing half his heart.

Shaking his head, he realises he doesn’t really have much time to play around, so he goes to his room and unfolds the boxes. The only things he has left to take are useless decorations or outerwear that he won’t need until winter, but it’s best to get it done now. And, as he imagined, it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to empty his drawers.

He can’t find his black boots, though. And he loves those boots.

They can only be in your room. Yes, he remembers taking them out to clean them, as summer is coming to an end, so he would most likely have put them back in your wardrobe.

After rummaging around the room, Jungkook finally finds the pair of boots under your bed. He sits on the mattress, staring at them. Suddenly he feels exhausted – as if his body lacks strength; it’s been a week since he last slept in this bed, that morning when he woke up next to you.

That morning when everything still had meaning, when you were still with him.

Just gonna close my eyes for a second, Jungkook tells himself as he lies down on the bed. The blankets hug him, almost as if reprimanding him for staying away for so long. Like a mother’s nagging. The accidental thought that he deserves to be nagged crosses his mind— because he does; he deserves to be scolded for leaving you without talking things through first. Won’t you come back to him and scold him? So that he can say sorry and return to you.

He’s so mad at you but fuck he misses you.

Closing his eyes was a big mistake. Now all Jungkook can do is picture your body on top of his body, your skin soft and warm against his skin, your lips peppering tender kisses from his lips down to his throat and chest.

It piques his craving for your presence first, a physical need to be with you. You soothe him, make him happy.

But then the feeling begins to mix with something else, something that cries for your presence in a primal way. A connection so deep it can only be achieved when his body is inside yours. The urge to kiss you gets so strong that Jungkook’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat to avoid letting out a moan of utter want.

He would literally die, kill, rob, kidnap, hijack a goddamn plane to have you next to him right now.

The skin on his chest feels sensitive. With the images of your face and body plaguing his head, there is a knot inside him that engorges and throbs. In a way, he’s digging his own grave.

Surely Jungkook can’t be that insane, right?

Oh, but he is. He’s crazy with want and loneliness and he misses you madly. So bad that, without a second thought, his hand goes south to cup the already half-hard tent in his pants, whimpering at the feeling.

Jungkook pictures it’s your hand rubbing the engorged head of his cock through the fabric.

But this is not enough. Hastily, the boy unbuckles his belt and pulls down his trousers, with his underwear following the same fate not long after. His erect cock bounces against his belly, and Jungkook brings his hand to his lips to spit on it while he turns around to lie face down. He’s down the rabbit hole already, so—

“A-ah,” he lets out, taken by surprise when his hand starts squeezing the glistening tip. Is this your ghost truly guiding him? “Oh, fuck…”

The memory of your hands strokes down his chest, peppering kisses. Your voice is murmuring sweet nothings, words of praise because you’d always appreciate it when he was a good boy. If his teasing and misbehaviour ignited you, his compliance would always bring out your sweetness.

Such a good boy, it says. Jungkook’s fist starts pumping faster. My baby bun.

You draw your finger down his spine, to his buttocks, until it reaches his perineum, making him chuckle nervously. “Noona,” Jungkook breathes out, “w-where are you touching?”

Let mommy have her way, will you, baby?

“But I— I’ve never been touched d-down there,” he whispers to himself, burying his face in the pillow.

Won’t you let me touch your pretty virgin hole, Kookie? It’ll feel good, I promise. Bet it’s so tight. Just get me the lube, spread your legs, and stop whining. It might hurt at first, but you’ll like it.

Your harsh tone kind of upsets him, but he figures out that you must want him so badly that you can’t help but sound demanding. That’s just the way you love him.

Jungkook doesn’t really have much idea of what he’s doing, he just knows what Jimin and Taehyung have decided to share with him about anal sex throughout their friendship. Lube it up first, as much as you can— and so he does, spurting lots of the slippery substance onto his digits before he plays with his puckered rim.

His arm starts hurting, so he turns over on the bed. Way better, he notes; now he can spread his legs, even press them against his chest. Open wide for you, so pretty, you’d love it.

His spit-coated finger strikes again, and Jungkook brings the blankets to his nose. It soothes him, your scent. In this little space, you’re still with him, you still want him. That is your thumb playing around his thighs, those are your lips smirking down at him.

The blankets, at least, still smell like you.

Jungkook’s other hand wraps around his cock again, pumping it fast to help him relax. In his mind, it’s your, jerking him off with a smirk on your face. Oh, you love watching him fall apart. You would scoot in between his parted legs and slide his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head until he starts sobbing in pleasure.

“S-shit.”

His fisted hand picks up a faster pace as it jerks his cock off with its focus on the tip.

Meanwhile, his other finger has stopped teasing his entrance and has begun to probe. The lube makes it easier while the stimulation coming from his cock has shoved him into a relaxed mental state.

“Oh—” And it finally slides in. The feeling is odd but nice – like he’s stuffed. Jungkook starts jerking off even faster, the sounds echoing through the room. “Oh, fuck, mommy! Shit—”

Knew you would love it, bunny.

He lets out a muffled moan. “Yes, yes— l-love it so much.”

Your tongue playing with his slit, your gentle finger slowly starting to work him open – Jungkook feels about to burst out in flames. His ears feel so hot, he’s positive his blood is boiling right now. The memory of your touch is easily the second-best thing in the world.

His fist messily pumps his cock as Jungkook brings the blanket to his nose. The soft scent, utterly yours, invades his nostrils and intoxicates him to the point of making him salivate.

He wants your pussy on his face to make you come until you think he’s the best you’ve ever had.

Your pretty, dripping wet pussy. Shit, having your cunt on his tongue brings him peace. Flicking your clit with his pointed tongue to bring out those sweet words of how good he makes you feel, what a good boy he is. That he’s enough. Nothing in this ugly world compares to being inside of you, he was made to make love with you – it’s his fate and home.

“M-mommy,” he calls out, eyes shut tight and eyebrows knitted together, “slow, please—” But his hands begin moving faster until his finger finds an engorged spot inside of him. “Fuck! Oh, f-fucking Christ!” Jungkook can’t stop rubbing it; it sends shivers from his core up to his very fingertips while his cock grows harder in his other hand. “Y/N! Please, please, please—! Shit, mommy, b-bunny— come, bunny come!”

Your lips feel real against his ear shell. Yeah? Does bunny want to come while mommy fucks his tight ass? Jungkook nods. What a slut.

His back arches off the bed. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck!”

Legs now spread open, Jungkook sobs in pleasure, overwhelmed. There are so many sensitive spots being ravaged right now, and there you are, hovering above him, smirking since you know fucking everything. A surprisingly sweet, gentle sparkle behind your pupils.

I love you, Jungkook.

That’s it, that’s his tipping point. In a second, his hips go from thrusting into his fist to bucking, and soon he’s coming all over his hand, his walls pulsing around his other finger.

“I—” Jungkook coughs. “S-shit, Y/N, I— I love you too,” he whimpers.

As he comes down from his high, the room suddenly feels empty and quiet. You’re not here, he remembers. The heat in his cheeks feels embarrassing, he’s just that pathetic. Then he looks down at his cum-covered palm.

You’re not here, and you won’t come back. Even if Jungkook threw his pride and self-worth out the window and crawled back to you, you won’t take him. You don’t need him. You don’t want him.

The first tear falls down his cheek, leaving a salty trail in contrast to his burning skin. His breath hitches in his throat, and soon Jungkook has to cover his mouth not to let any of his sobs out. Why did he ever decide to just accept it without trying to fight for you? Is that why you are so cold towards him? Because he was a compliant coward?

Maybe.

After cleaning himself and finishing sealing the boxes, Jungkook hurries out of the flat.

He’ll forget the tears of shame, he’ll forget how much he wants and misses you, he’ll forget that he’s in love, he’ll forget all about you. This was the last straw, perhaps; a moment of closure before he can wipe the slate clean.

Jungkook slams the boot of his car shut and slumps into the driver’s seat with a tired groan.  When he starts the car, the radio comes on by surprise. Any noise mixes with the beeping in his head, so he hurries to turn it off before his headache worsens and sets off back to the university.

The corridors of the men’s dormitory are filled with students walking around in their underwear, passing a ball around, shouting – for some reason – or with their eyes glued to their phones. Jungkook makes his way through them as he catches a glimpse of Soobin’s face and other teammates in the crowd, but he chooses to ignore them, although he does wonder what their weird faces were all about.

After putting down a couple of boxes to turn the handle, Jungkook squats down to pick them up again and walks into his room with his back turned, pushing the door open with his ass.

“Shit, so it’s true.”

The voice sounds familiar, but not too much. So, he turns around, dropping the boxes on his bed, just to face the sight of fucking Kim Seokjin standing like an idiot in front of him. His entire body freezes, or it bursts out in flames, or maybe it gets struck by lightning— whatever. Jungkook just stands there, staring at him in complete silence.

“I thought those guys in the team were kidding,” Seokjin finally says. “Or at least I hoped so—”

“What are you doing in my room?” he cuts him off.

Oh, so this is what you meant when you said your boyfriend lived on another planet; it’s obvious this is his new room, knowing that he’s been bringing in his stuff the entire morning. The reason Jungkook is asking nonetheless, well, that’s a mystery to him.

Seokjin lets out an awkward chuckle. “I, uh… I was assigned this room.”

“No.”

“Don’t worry,” the eldest says with a sigh, “it won’t be for long. I’m looking for a place already. This was just a favour from the supervisor.”

Motherfucker.

“Yeah, and there was no other room to put your ass in except this one, right?” Before Seokjin can even reply, Jungkook turns around in disbelief, hands on his hips. “He totally did this to get on my nerves.”

“Man, I… I have no idea. Just asked him for the favour.”

Wait, why is he having a conversation with the asshole who stole his girlfriend? And now he’s also his roommate. The universe hates him.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and turns around to start unpacking the boxes; maybe if he ignores him, it won’t be a deadly situation. Yeah, that’s it, Jungkook just has to pretend Kim Seokjin isn’t here, or even that he doesn’t exist at all, and he will get some of his peace back.

When he bends down to charge his phone, he notices that it’s busy charging another one already. The device makes a bubbling noise when unplugged, drawing his roommate’s attention as he recognises the sound.

Stifling a curse and making a grimace of realisation, Seokjin turns around with a smile. “Ah, yeah, I plugged your charger into my phone, I hope you don’t—”

“Well— don’t!” Jungkook unplugs the charger abruptly, the phone still in his grip. “You can’t just… go around taking my things, okay! God damn it, is there anything you’ll let me keep? Like a fucking robber…”

However, the device starts to ring, and a very familiar name shows up on the screen.

Y/N, incoming call.

Jungkook goes suddenly quiet, his shoulders now listless as he hands him back the phone. For a second, Seokjin forgets all about how nuts the guy actually is and gets a slight feeling of pity and remorse before taking the call and putting the screen on his ear.

“Hello—? Ah, yeah— sorry, didn’t see the time. Hm, yes, I’m on my way.”

Ah, yes, your Prince Charming is late to pick you up. The realisation makes him chuckle at first, but it soon turns bitter.

You truly have stopped caring for him.

The mere idea that he no longer has a place in your heart is terrifying. It’s unfair that this had to happen for Jungkook to figure out the actual depth of his feelings because now that he wants to, he… can’t do anything about it. But even if he could, could his pride ever allow him to? Crawling back to the woman who dumped him like he’s worthless.

Jungkook prefers to think it wouldn’t.

The three of them look at each other in a newly established silence. More and more often their reactions to everything their young friend says cannot be otherwise.

“I mean, you know I never say no to getting wasted at a club,” Jimin finally says, frowning, “but are you sure that’s what you want? Wouldn’t you prefer, uh, I don’t know… staying over for a movie night, maybe?”

But Jungkook only scoffs. “What, like I’m a kid? I wanna party!”

“All right, all right! Jesus…” Jimin gets up to fill his cup with water and comes back, hoping his friend has calmed down. This attitude of his is starting to get on his nerves. “Okay, let’s go out tonight, then… How about you two sleep over so we can just grab a cab? You’re always the designated driver, Tae.”

“That’s not the point!” Jungkook suddenly blurts out. “I wanna— I wanna, like, not sleep at all. A-and I’ll get fucking wasted, and I— I’ll fuck! I’ll meet a hot chick and I’ll fuck her!” he cries out then.

Jimin and Taehyung share a look.

“Do you really think you’re ready to hook up with anyone that’s not Y/N?” the latter says, playing with his drink as he feigns disinterest. “There’s no point in messing around with a girl just to—”

“I don’t need her, I don’t want her! She’s a-a bitch!” Jungkook cuts him off.

Then he gets up and goes to open the fridge, looking for another beer. Taehyung rubs his eyes; this sounds like a night to remember, that’s for sure. And if it’s not, he’s pretty sure Jungkook will make sure no one forgets about it.

A couple of hours later, they’re getting out of the cab and walking toward the club.

Yes, he has everything under control, this is not something he’s never done before: he will get drunk and make eye contact, and then everything will go on fluidly, like always. It doesn’t have to be any different from what he used to do before he fell for you. Yeah, it won’t probably be the same; he won’t tremble in expectation the way he’d do when it was you, and their touches won’t feel like your soft hands roaming down his back. It won’t be your lips kissing him, or your voice praising him because, honestly, he just wants to be good for you.

He knows all that already.

“Everything okay, Kookie?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. Suddenly, he’s standing in the line at the club’s entrance, and Taehyung stands next to him. “Don’t worry, Jimin just went off to talk to the bouncer. We’ll get in any second now.”

They had a few drinks before coming. The alcohol is bubbling in his blood like soda, he feels dizzy. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea – oh, he’s regretting it now. So, so much.

His friend stares at him. “You look pale.”

“It’s just the lighting,” Jungkook rushes to say, shrugging.

“Whatever.”

And Taehyung turns around.

Jimin comes back barely a few minutes later, holding a drink and waving at them on his way. With a cheerful call, he collects them and leads them to the entrance, where the bouncer nods and steps back to let them in.

“Good thing your dad knows the owner!” Jungkook exclaims as they walk into the club, but his voice is muffled by the loud music.

He was saying it to cheer himself up, so it doesn’t really matter.

They approach the bar, first things first. As soon as they each have a drink in their hand, they will go around looking for some fun or, at least, better music to dance to. Maybe the floors underground will satisfy them, or perhaps the roof terrace where the cocktails are better.

It was weird at first, hanging out with rich people. Jungkook was expecting to spend his freshman nights out at shabby clubs – which he’s had his fair share of, to be honest – but was surprised with fancy premises and colourful drinks. You’d always complain about what he had never had the courage, saying that you felt out of place surrounded by snobby folks.

The way his head spins as the crowd engulfs him makes him realise that, perhaps, he’s had a few more drinks at Jimin’s place than he had initially planned.

“God, I wanna dance, but the music is so… ugh.” Jimin comes back to him and rests his back against the column. “Don’t you agree with me, Kookie? Can we go somewhere else?”

“What!”

Jimin rolls his eyes and yells, “I said, can we go somewhere else?”

“Where’s Tae?” he asks.

“Necking someone, I guess. Come on, let’s move! Everyone is, like, in their thirties or balding here.”

“Already…?”

The roof terrace is their next destination. There are more people on the dance floor, swinging their hips and singing along to the music. They’re younger too, Jimin notices. At least he doesn’t feel like he died and went to hell.

“Hey, hyung, I—” Jungkook turns around as soon as he has received the drink from the barman only to suddenly find himself alone in the middle of the club. Jimin’s red outfit slowly vanishes into the dance floor crowd. After that, well, he’s completely alone. “Fuck, they always do this to me, shit.”

With a sigh of resignation, Jungkook takes the first sip of his edulcorated drink.

He’s dully checking out the rooftop when a bunch of girls catches his attention; they’re eying him, giggling and harping each other with the shoulder.

Jungkook watches how one of them eventually walks up to him with a shiny smile. She flaunts her shoulders as she approaches, quite charmingly. By the time the girl gets there, Jungkook is already sweating with anxiety; no, this was not a good idea at all. He’s regretting it already.

“Hey!” she exclaims, trying to get herself through the loud music blasting in their ears. “Saw your friend leaving! Poor thing.”

The conversation doesn't last long – a ‘hello, do you study or work, where do you study, have you come with more friends, my girlfriends are single too, what are you drinking’ – until the girl, whose name Jungkook didn’t quite catch on because of the loud music, proposes to move it to a quieter place. He follows her, not quite sure what’s going on anymore.

They spot a bench on the other side of the roof terrace, where the music is muffled, and the air is cooler.

She takes a sit. “Yeah, this is way better, thank you. Anyways, so, Jungkook… I guess you don’t have a girlfriend, right?” the girl jokes with a giggle.

Jungkook stares at her in silence first. For a few long, awkward seconds. His eyes seem to blank, it looks like nothing crosses his mind, and the words can’t come out of his mouth. A second later, though, the first sob breaks through his chest.

“Oh, shit, I—”

At the bewildered look of the poor girl, who inwardly can’t stop cursing her bad luck in her choice of potential flings, he begins to cry with his face buried in his hands. She pats his back with a grimace as Jungkook leans forward on the bench, trying to comfort him. After a few more broken sobs, he finally manages to sit up again.

“She… fuck.” Jungkook wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “She cheated on me with her ex.”

“Damn— I mean, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Never mind.”

The girl picks up her glass from the floor and takes a long sip with a blank stare. Honestly, all her friends are in the most obnoxious mood tonight. She had hoped that a date for the evening would keep her entertained, or at least take her away from the boring conversation of her friends, talking about the same thing all the time. She was wrong. The least this Jungkook guy can do is to thoroughly take her through all the drama, and she will pretend she cares enough to give him her advice.

She glances at him as naturally as she can manage. “You can tell me if you want. It’ll do you good to get it off your chest.”

With a dramatic head turn, Jungkook doesn’t play hard to get and starts telling her everything; from how you met, all the way through the bet, and finally, the evening he found you in the room with Kim Seokjin.

“Talk things out with her!” she blurts out, making him flinch. “God, I can’t believe you just ran away without making sure it wasn’t a misunderstanding. And, of course, her ex was there to comfort her, Jesus. I’m pretty sure you fucked things up yourself—”

“There wasn’t much chance of misunderstanding—”

The girl rolls her eyes and gulps down her drink. “You men can be so stupid, really.”

“Hey!” Jungkook whines.

“What?”

“You…!” Jungkook frowns at her, pressing his lips together. There are still tears drying up on his cheeks, and his eyes sting with the threat of more of them. “You don’t know anything! You have no fucking idea!”

“Well, dude, I can see why she dumped you.” The girl finally gets up and walks away, but he only glances at her when she grunts, “Fucking asshole…”

Jungkook sits on the bench like a pathetic loser until the next time he raises his arm to drink he realises that his glass is empty. Since Jimin and Taehyung aren’t here to get him another one, and a drink in a place like this would cost half his allowance, he decides to get up and walk back to the dorms. First, of course, he writes a message saying goodbye in case, by chance, at some point in the night, either of them realises that he’s not there.

“Shit, shit, shit…”

You race down the stairs to the ground floor, backpack tightly hugged between your arms so that it doesn’t fly away. Your throat is dry, your chest is burning, and the back of your neck is covered with sweat from the effort, but you will make it; you will not be late.

Just as the clock strikes two minutes to twelve, you skid in front of the plastic door.

As you try to get in, however, someone pushes the door against you, and you have to step back for the safety of your face.

“Ah, Y/N, sorry!” one of the students says. “Didn’t see you there.”

“No biggie… Why is everybody leaving?”

Another girl, Nayeon, shrugs. “Doctor Lee has come down with something, so there’s no class today. We’re going to the cafeteria to grab a bite, wanna come with us?”

“Sure.”

As you walk down the hall, Nayeon gets closer to your side, making you raise your eyebrows. She just smiles and waits until the rest of the group is engrossed in a new conversation before finally talking:

“So, did you hear the rumours?” she whispers.

You shake your head. “Uh, no.”

“Do you want me to tell you?” Nayeon looks conflicted all of a sudden. “It may upset you.”

“Is this about Jungkook?”

“Yeah.”

Knew it.

With a snort, you stand in the middle of the corridor as the others, unaware, walk away. “Okay, let’s hear it. What did he do this time?”

“Apparently, Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook went out the other day, and he hooked up with a girl,” Nayeon says quietly, watching how your face loses all colour. “So, I guess it makes you guys, uh… officially unofficial? I always hoped it was just a rough patch and that you would get back together, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmur and keep going to catch up.

Don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry. Not in front of everyone, not now that you’re finally aware of the way their curious eyes fix on you.

Whatever is going on with Jungkook, it seems like he’s set his mind on it. From now on, it’s not just a crisis or a ‘rough patch’, you’re officially broken. It’s just crazy that you still don’t know what horrible deed you’ve done to make up his mind.

You pick up the tray and go to take a seat next to Nayeon. Like a swift shadow, Soobin appears out of nowhere and sits on your other side. You can’t help letting out a tired sigh.

“How are you, noona?”

“Hungry,” you simply respond, bringing the chopsticks to your lips.

Soobin laughs. “Want some of mine, then? We could share.” Without waiting for your answer, he rushes to put some of his sliced pork on your tray. “There, you can take as much as you want—”

“Listen, Soobin…”

The boy stops right away at your serious tone and stares into your firm eyes with a gulp, expectant.

“Yeah?”

Today, tired and heartbroken, you don’t have the patience to put up with the boy and his shenanigans. Maybe you should have had this conversation a long, long time ago, but only now do you realise it. You’re not angry at him or irritated, just worn out.

“You’re a good guy, and I know what you’re trying to do when you do stuff like this,” you continue, this time more gently as you lean into him. “But… I’m not interested, okay?” His eyes darken all of a sudden, and your heart shrinks in pity. “You’re out of line most of the time. And whether I’m dating someone or not doesn’t change that, all right?”

“Even when he slept with someone else?”

You raise your head, eyes wide open totally astounded. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t you want revenge? He already hates me,” Soobin explains. “But only if you and Jin-hyung are not serious, of course… Or am I out of line now too?”

“So far away from it you can’t even see it, so it seems,” you reply with an unbelieving laugh, already getting up.

You stare at Soobin for a second before you walk away; he looks certain and confident about the conversation. Maybe because he still believes he ever had a chance, but there’s something else, something about him that you can’t quite get yet. Does he, though? Does he not?

With a sigh, you take out your phone.

[Monday, 12:42 AM] You: We need to talk.

[Monday, 12:42 AM] You: Where are you? Are you on campus?

[Monday, 12:45 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: Just about to leave class, why? What happened?

[Monday, 12:49 AM] You: I think it’s time we talk things out.

[Monday, 12:49 AM] You: Also, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest.

[Monday, 12:50 AM] You: Could you do that for me?

A group of students pass by you, and among them you see Jungkook. He seems to be doing very well, you’ve never seen him make new friends before. Maybe the idea you had of him was quite wrong; maybe Soobin was right all along. Be that as it may, you first want to make sure that the rumours are true. Not just because you find it odd, but because something inside you refuses to believe it.

[Monday, 12:56 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: Sure, see you in ten minutes in Kang’s lecture hall, after everyone has left.

[Monday, 12:58 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: It’s good to talk to you again :)

You don’t reply to his last texts. Instead, you walk down the corridor and go upstairs to wait by the door. There’s ruckus coming from the other side already, so your guess is that everyone is already collecting their things to leave.

Jimin, who is still standing on the treads, bows to his professor as the old man walks out, and you greet him with a polite nod of your head.

“Hey.”

You leave your backpack on the desk behind him. “Hey.”

“Good to see you,” he murmurs, looking up at you before you sit down. “How’s it going?”

“Did Jungkook really sleep with another girl?”

For some reason, Jimin did not expect any other question than this. The fact that Jungkook went around spreading the rumour doesn’t help either, but he has his hands tied on the matter; his friend doesn’t listen to him anymore.

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?” Jimin asks then.

You sigh. “The short one.”

“No, he did not.”

“Hm…” Frowning, you cross your arms, totally taken aback. “What’s the long one, then?”

Eyes looking down at his palms, the boy takes a deep breath. Maybe this is a breaking point, and he probably shouldn’t be talking about this. If this changes your mind about Jungkook, he will hate him forever. But if this helps you open your eyes to the situation, well, then Jimin will be happy – he just wants you two to be happy, together or not. And you deserve to know the truth.

“He didn’t, but he came close,” he explains. “At some point, the girl asked him if he had a girlfriend and Jungkookie burst into tears. Then he whined a bit about you, she comforted him, and the last thing I heard was the girl calling him an asshole.”

You gulp down, your stomach churning. Suddenly you feel out of breath. “So, he didn’t do it, but he tried to.”

“Well, yeah?” Jimin scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting on the chair. “It was kind of his idea to go out and sleep around, but he just can’t.”

“So, he’s really going around trying to get into the pants of every girl he sees?”

“Why are you mad? He couldn’t do it! That’s— that’s good! It means he’s not over you yet,” he tries to comfort you as he kneels in front of you. “If it affects you so much, why did you choose Seokjin-hyung over him?”

You uncover your conflicted face. “If it ‘affects me’ so much…? I’m— what?”

“You sound jealous.”

That’s the last straw. With a spasm, you begin to cry, shrinking in your chair. Jimin freezes until he comes back to his senses and takes your hands, stroking them with his thumbs.

“How is ‘jealous’ the first word you could think of? How could I not be jealous?” you cry out.

“But you broke up with Kookie, didn’t you?” he murmurs, voice lower and lower. “You have no right to be.”

Suddenly calm, you let go of his hands. “Uh, yeah, that’s another thing I wanted to ask! Could someone please tell me when I broke up with him? Because, as far as I can remember, neither of us has ever sat down to talk about breaking up. He just… ghosted me.”

“But he says— he says you did. You dumped him for Jin-hyung, he heard you.”

You frown and look away as you try to find some logic. Is it an excuse? But you were doing great before finding out about the bet, so it couldn’t be that. You may be a depressive bitch, but his affection towards you seemed genuine… or not? Could this be just his long-term revenge for how bad you treated him in the past? But then, why would he crumble down instead of hooking up with that stranger? Maybe Jimin is lying.

“Are you lying?”

“Why would I?” Jimin replies with a scoff. “Jungkook begged me not to tell anyone. I’m telling you because someone has to seal up this fucking drama.”

Okay, if Jungkook did all of this out of pure convincement that you really dumped him for Seokjin, how the fuck did he come to that shitty conclusion? It couldn’t be Jin himself; you know him well enough. Maybe someone from the team? But Jungkook couldn’t be convinced like that in one day.

“I don’t know why, but Jungkook thinks I cheated on him with Seokjin, is that it?” you sum up.

“He says he heard you,” Jimin explains, sitting back on his chair. “And after what he had been hearing in the club ever since Jin-hyung came back, and knowing what he’s like, it’s no wonder that’s the conclusion he came to.”

“Sounds a bit extreme to me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Look, whatever Jungkook heard, it made him believe that you cheated on him and dumped him for your ex.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck. Seokjin’s visit, that must be it. The noise from the entrance, the door closing. You contemplated the possibility that it was Jungkook, but now that you think of it— without context, it was a weird conversation. But it’s not like he caught you doing anything wrong either, right? It’s his problem for not asking. And besides, he didn’t bother to try to solve the problem either, he just ran away whining – like he always does.

You get up and put your backpack on your shoulder as you thank Jimin for giving up so much of his precious time to answer all your questions. At least now you have a clear view of what happened.

Jimin gets up with you. “I think you should talk to him. He must be on his way to practice.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“But you’re still together! That’s great!” he exclaims.

“After he tried to sleep with another girl?” you ask coldly, arching an eyebrow. “No, thanks. She can keep him.”

And you walk out of the classroom, hoping that the warm feeling in your chest will die soon. At least before you have to kill it yourself.

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

“STAY” is copyright ²⁰²² Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.

#sub!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #sub!bts #sub jungkook #sub bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook college au #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook x noona #mommy kink #noona kink

[th3d0nutl0rd]

I've finally found someone else who likes Devereaux from Renegade Nell 😭😭 I adored your headcanons for him, please don't let that be all 🙏🙏🙏

Oh my gosh my prayers have been answered, I have been having a lot of thoughts about him recently 🙏🙏

What if his engagement to Eularia was not of his own volition- what if his father's gambling landed them in a tough spot financially, which resulted in him marrying his son to a wealthy older woman like Eularia against his will 🥲 it's sad to think about but would make sense in the given context

Alternatively, maybe he really is just the sober Jack Sparrow type- he'll flirt with anyone if it can get him out of a bad situation. So if the first one was a bit too depressing for you, you can always think of it this way too.

Early in the show he mentions the growing industries in the Americas (as we know now many of these would end up being Plantations) but he did mention hemp. If you haven't looked into it before, the hemp industry in America from the mid 1600s-1700s is really interesting, and it's funny to think of him as someone who wants to potentially oversee it (I believe it was popular amongst British mariners and had several different uses less common to us now than at the time)

Imagine him, based in America, exploiting British mariners with hemp... Amazing...

Also I'm British, and study history at college so I can tell you that if you were to insert yourself into this universe it's entirely plausible that y/n would be able to grow up alongside Devereux even as a pauper, let me explain why-

In the 1700s, many poor children or ones who came from lower middle class families (who had titles, but not money) would be educated by local families who were rich, and would pay off their student debt by working in that family's trade

For example if that family were blacksmithing business you might spend a summer in their forge- if they were fishermen you might spend time on their boats. Meaning Charles could've been educated alongside you! Whoo! Perfect setup for a childhood friends type storyline.

Magic tricks! We got to see him do some during the show, and I think it would be so cute to have him show you his favourite tricks, maybe sat huddled in a room at night whispering to each other like giddy teenagers while he shows you some new trick he learned

Leading into this, I also love his general giddiness and excitement as a character. He loves an adventure. He's always got a smile on his face. He's good with kids- we saw it with George. What a sweet guy 😭❤️

OH MY GOD AND THE DANCING!!! LET'S NOT FORGET THE DANCING!!! I have so many thoughts about his dancing I'm probably gonna make a separate post about it so please tell me if that's something you'd like to see

#renegade nell #charles devereux #isambard tulley

[youreternallover]

Kira Everhart

Kira Everhart is my Heart Fragment MC / OC. Down below is the information I’ve written down about them, though it’s unorganised because it was all just general information. I’ll write detailed information at a later date, this is just basic things. Appearance will be added later. Some of it may have poor grammar but that’s because I simply did not check it before hand, I’ll be updating this or making new posts when I add new information. This was done more as a stress relief since this original character is one of my current favourites. Praise my friend for convincing me to post this.

Up front is the basic information I’ve been writing down along the way. Eventually I’ll make this look neat but as of right now I’m just into dumping.

They’re Panromantic Demisexual, Demigirl who goes by They/She.

They enjoy Music and are interested in it, started a hobby of playing a guitar and writing tiny songs which they used to sing for their music classes, though while growing up they got embarrassed of it and slowly stopped, she still enjoys it but doesn’t engage in it as much anymore.

They enjoy Art and are interested in it, started as a hobby but they're slowly working their way up into making a job out of it since they decided that playing the guitar would be a hobby rather than something to pursue. Perhaps in the future she’ll do both at once, they don’t know yet.

They enjoy reading and have a small collection of various books going.

Originally they had purple-brown(puce colour) hair but started dyeing only the ends of it a peachy pink colour for a slight ombré effect a year ago before everything happened. Mostly dyed it for fun and out of the blue, just to have a slight difference, to have some sort of brightness in her life aside from her friends. Now they're letting it fade.

Originally paired with Kay, ship name was Mending Heart, but then I couldn’t help myself and Clive is added onto the list. Pairing with Kay or Clive has the same ship name, Mending heart, although maybe later I’ll add a difference cause I can’t think of anything for Clive and Kira atm. Which I pick and write or draw will be dependant on mood.

They did get bullied for sometime when they were younger, but it didn’t very last long when her friends noticed. Though it still caused damage, it’s one of the reasons they find difficulty making new friends.

Developed a small crush on Shannon when they were younger but eventually pushed those thoughts away and moved on, knowing and pondering that Shannon was most likely not going to be interested in a person like her, romantically at least. Mostly thought that due to growing up with not many queer figures around, even if there was a few she felt hesitant. Hence it took them ages to accept their identity and sexuality.

Originally she was upset when they found out that their father, Gray, treated Kay like his own kid more than her, but in the end they were glad he looked out and cared for Kay.

Wears a rose gold tinted ring on their thumb to mess around with mostly when stressed, it helps them focus and they find it pretty.

Has a matching bracelet with Shannon, although they don’t wear it they keep it in a little box in their room.

Has a small star and moon charm attached to their phone case.

They don’t have a stable music taste, it all depends on their mood. Most commonly listens to Heart Fragment though. The band got them through many hard times.

They never really looked for love, they always thought that looking for love was pointless and that they’d rather let it happen naturally than seek it out.

They stand at 5’8 and often wear platformed boots just for the fun of it, and to be taller.

For the longest time, they genuinely believed that Grey hated them or perhaps wished he didn’t have a kid. It started when she first was taken in by Grey, and that feeling stayed throughout the years even if it didn’t seem that bad now that she thought about it. During current times, their relationship with their father is much better and she started calling him ‘dad’ again.

Absolutely despises coconut water or coconut flavoured things. Will die on the inside when given anything coconut but to not hurt someone’s feelings they will try their best to eat or drink it.

Once during a thunderstorm, they ran to their friends house because they weren’t doing well even when told not to. Kira was soaked head to toe but she made it there and made sure her friend was fine.

They felt awful choosing who gets to live and which die. All three of the men deserve to live a life. Who is she to decide which one gets to live? It’s unfair. They try their best to save everyone.

#🌔 eclipse’s original characters #heart fragment #mc #original character #oc

[dinoburger]

i keep thinking about your brief criticism of how australia is portrayed in tf2 and you cant imagine the feeling of comfort and reassurance that i felt. i always thought it was just me fixating on the comics too much, but no yeah australia (and also new zealand) definitely do have issues in terms of wasted potential and iffy writing. i suppose it could be from the team being more familiar with american stereotypes, but, still. it got me thinking, and i do apologize if this is a bit much, but how else would you change the australians in tf2?

(btw the comment about how the emu should've been the queen instead is one of the smartest things i've seen in a while. love that)

HEH - oh, I've been thinking about that...

I've mentioned how I think that in being a parody, TF2 becomes quite a scathing criticism of capitalism and the American war machine, I think British imperialism too if the Mann family is anything to go by

TF2's Australia could definitely form a scathing criticism of colonialism, if handled right.

So, I come from European immigrant families on both sides, my grandparents talked about how Australia had literally been described as streets "paved with gold", but you also get like, the town my paternal grandmother lived in still had a blacksmith up until the 1960s

there's a lot of clashing ideas about seeking prosperity there versus just how badly some of the first settlers struggled to actually get their footing, white colonists had great trouble growing non-native crops in a hot, desert country like ours. A lot of ships came in with passengers diseased, starved and dying.

Simultaneously, poor families could go from being impoverished to being fairly well off and eventually middle class, as with my family. By virtue of being white immigrants, of course.

to me, it IS the contradiction of Australia that makes it interesting, how it can be percieved as both an untapped resource and a hostile, barren waste just to suit the fantasies of the outsider.

maybe it's not a futuristic fantasy land, but people speculate and circulate these increasingly absurd stories. Maybe indigenous folk have always known about the presence of Australium but knew better than to fuck up the land by harvesting obscene quantities of it.

The Hales have glutted themselves on a resource that never belonged to them and thus elevated themselves to the same depravity of rich British folk, like the Manns.

I like this kind of contradiction of like, Barnabus is a wild man of the harsh Australias, but we only ever really see him in the context of posh English Zepheniah and his family. He's just one lucky bastard who survived long enough to take advantage of what was available to him.

Australium is a genuinely valuable substance, but the further it gets from its home soil the more it gets bastardized and exploited. Rather than researched for its medical properties or anything else, it's used to paint stuff, as a vanity item.

...Barnabus also being an illegitimate child to a convict and a settler is something I think I like, he's a traitor to the poorer side of his lineage. Another of his contradictions. There is struggle in his past, but a lot of it he was willing to put behind in favor of working with a man like Zepheniah, who ruthlessly exploits the working class.

Australia is supposedly a savage, wild country, but a lot of the men who claimed to have "tamed it" are in bed with the English and their ilk.

I'm sorry this partially became a rant about Barnabus but I guess like, I more have general ideas about what I would want to glean from TF2's Australia than anything concrete...

#asklies

[fuckyeahmarkgatiss]

The recent Times article on Mark & Ian

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/mark-gatiss-and-ian-hallard-i-asked-him-to-marry-me-the-afternoon-we-met-339v55jw2

The article is behind a paywall but I still had some access so here you all are!

Mark Gatiss & Ian Hallard: ‘I proposed on the afternoon we met.’

The League of Gentleman star and his actor husband on dating at the dawn of the internet and coming out to their parents.

Mark

Ian and I met online back in 1999, long before Grindr, when online dating still had a certain stigma attached to it. “Poor you! You can’t find anyone in the real world, so you have to go scrabbling around on the internet.” I didn’t tell my family how we’d met for several years.

You also have to remember that gay men didn’t necessarily go on dates in search of eternal happiness. Dates were fun and exciting. So, when we met in the glamorous surroundings of Finsbury Park Tube station and went back to my flat, I didn’t think it was anything serious. But it was. Ian loves to tell people that I asked him to marry me that afternoon. With hindsight I think I was probably joking, but I certainly had high hopes: “Maybe he’s ‘the one’.”

Having said that, it did take a while to get used to the idea of being a couple. All my previous relationships had sort of … fizzled out. With Ian it was the opposite; we seemed to grow closer and closer. We’ve even collaborated on several projects and I’m directing his first play at the moment [the Abba-inspired The Way Old Friends Do, which Ian wrote and stars in], but there’s never been any sense of rivalry. We get asked if it’s difficult living and working together, but why would it be a problem to spend time with the person you love?

I grew up in a working-class town near Durham, my dad worked at the pit. Telling people you were gay in that situation wasn’t easy. I came out to my friends when I was 15 and there were a few comments at school, but I was never bullied. The real problem for me in the Seventies and early Eighties was that I had no idea what to do about being gay.

Apart from the occasional storyline in [the drama series] Play for Today, the only gay men on TV were John Inman and Larry Grayson. I play Larry in the new TV drama Nolly [about Noele Gordon, a star of the soap Crossroads] and understand why John and Larry were regarded as torchbearers. But some gay activists in the Seventies saw them as the enemy: screamingly gay, but at the same time a sort of neutered Saturday-night camp.

Somehow I managed to put off telling my parents to the point where my mam was the one who brought it up. I was home from university and she simply asked me. It was a huge relief. I said, “Hadn’t we better tell Dad?” Mam looked at me. “Oh no! It’ll kill him.” So we didn’t.

A couple of weeks later I was talking to Mam on the phone and she said, “I told your dad. Ooh, we had some snow overnight.” Initially I thought that had saved me from having to talk to him about it, but it had just been popped at the back of a drawer.

Dad struggled at first, but considering his background it could have been a lot worse. Although it was a bit awkward when he met Ian, we never had “issues”. Sadly we lost him in 2021. The weird thing is that as he got older he became much more tolerant. Even after he lost Mam — his loneliness seemed to soothe his prejudices. He understood that love is where it falls.

It sounds like a complete cliché to say, “We make each other laugh all the time,” but it’s absolutely true. Our shared sense of humour has become the glue that has bonded us. Ian’s definitely more together than me when it comes to admin, and I’m pretty sure he did most of the organising when we had our civil partnership in 2008. The main problem is that, left to our own devices, we can be as bad as each other. We make all these grand plans, then we decide to take Bob [the labrador] for a walk instead.

Ian and I did have a brief period of broodiness, then we quickly realised that neither of us was responsible enough, so we got a dog. The ideal scenario would be that a fully formed, well-educated, extremely polite grown-up knocks on our door and declares that they are the fruit of my overeager teenage loins. We get to be parents without the hard work!

The couple in 1999, the year they met

Ian

Remember when Stelios from easyJet started his internet cafés? Without Stelios I wouldn’t have met Mark. I didn’t have the internet at my flat in London, so I would go to a Stelios café every day to check emails and log on to gay.com. Back then online dating didn’t involve pictures; it was just messages and a phone call. When Mark and I finally clapped eyes on each other, there was that awful moment of tension, trying to decide if we fancied each other. If not, I guess we would have headed off on our separate ways.

Mark was only the second man I’d made contact with online and the first one I’d met. I did sort of recognise him because The League of Gentlemen had been on telly, but I hadn’t actually seen it. That was probably a good thing. Had I been a massive fan, I’m not sure things would have worked out.

Mark’s career has taken a different trajectory to mine. He has been involved in a lot of high-profile projects and around the time of Sherlock [Gatiss was co-creator, co-writer and appeared as Holmes’s brother, Mycroft] things did go a bit crazy. That one-sided success can cause havoc in a relationship, especially with actors — lots of arguments and jealousy. Some relationships seem to thrive on that constant drama. Not us! I’ve never seen Mark have an argument with anyone. He’s unfailingly polite to the point of diffidence.

I hit my teens when TV was full of adverts about Aids — huge icebergs, tombstones. My parents were your typical easy-going, middle-class Brummies. There was no hint of homophobia but, in that climate, you can see why they might be concerned about having a gay son. What kind of future did I have? I was either going to die of Aids or kill myself out of loneliness and depression.

When I eventually told them I’d met someone and talked about bringing him home to meet them, they were very happy. I told them he was in this fantastic programme called The League of Gentlemen and proudly told them it had won a Bafta. Unfortunately they decided to watch it. They saw this collection of psychopaths and monsters and thought, “What’s he got himself involved with? Is it a cult?” Mum rang me up and said, “Please tell me it’s not him who plays that weirdo Mickey.” I paused for a second and then said, “Yes, Mum, that’s the man I’m going to marry.”

The Way Old Friends Do, Lyceum, Sheffield, Tue-Sat; Park Theatre, London N4, Mar 15-Apr 15; and touring until Jun 10; thewayoldfriendsdo.com

Strange habits

Mark on Ian

He’s incapable of keeping his side of the bed tidy. I call his pile of dirty clothes “the Bedroom Monster”

Ian on Mark

He worries about us travelling in the same car in case something happens to us both and Bob becomes an orphan

#Mark Gatiss #Ian Hallard #adorable husbands #the way old friends do #recent article

[davenswitcher]

I got tagged by the wonderful @cinnamontails-ff for WIP Wednesday!

I'll be showing two wips that I have.

WIP Wednesday:

To be or not to be

TW: parents are shitty, heartbreak, maybe unhealthy coping mechanism, parents dictate their sons future

Chapter 1: The Stage Is Yours

Astarion loved the theatre. The creativity, the beauty of witnessing a live performance and forgetting any problems he currently has for a few hours. So, it came to no surprise when he joined a theatre club back in high school to the disappointment of his parents. His parents loathed the idea of him eventually becoming an actor. Acting does not pay bills and leisure, they said, and hoped it’s just a phase.

So, when he graduated and told them his plans and what he wants to study, his parents couldn’t believe their ears. He and his parents never fought badly, mind you. But this must be the most heated argument he ever had with his parents in his 22 years of living.

“You can’t be serious Astarion! Acting is a poor man’s profession! Do you want to ruin our reputation? Our family consists of a long line of magistrates and doctors. So, naturally, you will study law. End of discussion!” His father scowled. His anger could rival that of a barbarian.

“Father, please.” Astarion pleaded, “I can not see myself locked in an office overseeing cases and making judgments for the rest of my life. I’m a free-spirited, individualist. I’m not made for a profession like that.”

“Listen to your father, Astarion. He knows what’s best for you. Besides, your job is not supposed to be fun. It’s for the purpose of financing your life and societal status. Our family’s status was built on hard-working academics.”

“I’m going to my room.”

“Son, manners.”

With a sigh, Astarion replies: “May I retire to my room, please.”

His father replies stoically: You may. And son? Your grades have been lacking the past months. It’s not up to par with what we’ve come to expect from you. We might discuss this later, though.”

As he enters his room, he slams the door shut and locks it lest his parents come in uninvited. Why can’t his parents understand? Why can’t they accept his choice?

He sits down at his desk and takes out his diary. It has become a habit for him to write his feelings and thoughts down. Ever since his puberty, the constant turmoil of feelings and the ever-growing expectations of his parents, he found it easier to write his thoughts down than to talk about them with his parents. Which is a huge shift because he used to be very close to them. Especially his mother, who understood him and even talked him through his first heartbreak. It was painful to see her little angel go through the pains of a heartbreak. He loved them so much. He and Quinn planned to move to Baldur’s Gate together and study. Astarion would study the arts of theatre, while Quinn would become a doctor. They had a bleeding heart and wanted to help and heal beyond Baldur’s Gate. Until Astarion caught Quinn having a quickie behind the school's gym with his classmate Sheila. He wordlessly went away, lest he say anything hurtful to them. Quinn tried to talk to Astarion, but how are you going to justify cheating on your partner? Especially with someone your partner hates to the bone? The next day, after the cheating incident, Astarion and Quinn talked it out in their lunch break and Quinn broke up with Astarion. They were his first love. Together for three years, from fifteen to eighteen years old.

The following two weeks were very hard for him. He missed classes and stayed home the whole time. Crying and blaming himself how he couldn’t have foreseen the signs. They were there, weren’t they? Cheaters drop signs all the time they cheat, don’t they? One night, in a fit of sadness and self loathing, he sneaked into his bathroom and cut his hair. From hip length locks to neck length curls. He loved his long hair. It was always decorated in the finest elven jewellery, but not any more. He’ll keep the short hairstyle for years to come.

The Rockstar and The Groupie

Chapter 1

“Estellé”

It was Friday afternoon. Just three more hours and Estellé would be free for the week, and she could finally go to the concert she had booked the tickets for. Fourth row and VIP. She was going to meet him! The most famous rockstar of their generation and everybody's favourite bad boy. Estellé saved up half a year for the tickets. VIP tickets were even more expensive than regular. Well, makes sense you're going to meet THE star, after all. Astarion Ancunín. Rockstar, bad boy, sexiest man alive 3 times in a row.

Estellé worked over time a few times to even afford to save up. As a college student in linguistics and philosophy, you don't get paid like the trained hotel workers do. She lived in a small flat that costs what feels like more than it's worth, the university fees have gone up (not by much, but it still hurts) and has to buy expensive textbooks every new semester. The least she could do was reward herself with a good time. Especially if it's her favourite singer and songwriter.

“ESTELLÉ!” Estellé was startled out of her stupor by her least favourite colleague. “Where did you put the guest list for the coming season? I told you it needs to be visible for us. Always. Lest we let in someone who didn’t rent a room here.” The “Swords Of The Sword Coast”, where Estellé was working at, prided themselves for being exclusive and luxurious. The hotel had a list of guests and if you didn’t rent in time you had to wait a season. Maybe two if a certain rockstar rented multiple floors to have privacy. Astarion was a frequent guest in the hotel thanks to his manager. Apparently his manager knew the founder of the hotel. It used to be a motel for pirates around three to four centuries ago, he told him.

According to a colleague he arrived four days ago, but she hasn’t seen him come out of his room yet, and he orders his breakfast and dinner to his room. His manager said to her, “it’s one of his moods again.” She shrugged it off as rockstar eccentrics, although being so reclusive doesn’t match his stage persona, she thought. Astarions manager creeped her out a lot. He’s rather tall and has a piercing stare. Does he ever blink? His hair is slicked back and he talks as if he’s the star not Astarion. Most of the stars requests she receives are through his manager. Cazador Szarr is his name. He has been working for the Crimson Label for a few decades now. He took Astarion Ancunín under his wing when he used to play indie rock and grunge in small taverns. His look was not as glamorous and his hair was shorter and unkempt. A far cry from today. His usual stage wear nowadays is black, leather, fishnet and a bandana. His makeup is either smudged around the eyes or perfectly done with eyeliner, mascara and eye shadow that is black with a hint of silver. Thus, his blue, gold flecked eyes seem to pierce you even more.

“Miss….?” Estellé was rearranging a few things behind desk to leave the desk for the next colleague who'd take the next shift when she was startled by a soft voice. “Miss, I have a request to make.”

“Oh, Mr. I didn't see-” When she turned around she saw who was standing in front of her. Dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair tugged in a bun and yet still manages to look good.

“Mr. Ancunín I'm so sorry. What can I do for you?”

“Don't call me Mr. please. Mr. Ancunín is my father.” He leans forward and reads her name tag. “Estellé… what a beautiful name. Estellé, would you be so kind to send dinner a little later to my room? The show starts in a few hours and I'll be at the hotel at 1am or 2am at the latest. Would this be possible, darling?”

He called her darling and Estellé might think she's melting and heating up at the same time.

“I'm sure this can be arranged! I'll tell the staff that takes the next shift to send your dinner to your room when you've come back.” She answered in a higher pitch than intended.

“Thank you very much.” he does a little appreciative bow and leaves.

#wip #wip wednesday #bg3 astarion #astarion #bg3

[soukoku-fic-recs]

High school au masterlist pt1:

Hello everyone!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

Many people asked for it so here it is: a huge masterlist of soukoku high school fics!!

I found sooo many that I really liked but found it impossible to fit them all in one gigantic post so here we go with part 1! I hope you enjoy it and stay tuned for more!!

Have a great day and let me know wich ones you liked best!!

-f

What’s your name? by CataclysmicEvent: “I said, what's your name?” Dazai snaps to attention to see that Chuuya is staring right at him, and suddenly his mouth feels like sandpaper. Jesus. Who has eyes like that?! “Ozai—” “Huh?”“Dazoo—” “I’m sorry, what?” “Dazai Osamu.” Sometimes--the worst introductions can last a lifetime. (High school AU, slice of life, growing up together.)

Sins Of Staying Together by setosdarkness: Dazai is infamous for saying ‘yes’ to anyone who asks him out. Even if anyone he dates ends up breaking up with him before the week is over. Because he’s a suicide maniac, because he’s a manipulative asshole, because he’s a piss-poor leech who has a staggering ¥1000 to his name, because of a number of reasons. Chuuya’s not curious - okay, he sort of maybe is - but he figures one week of stupidity can’t hurt too much. So he jokingly asks Dazai out. And he starts to regret a lot of things.

A thousand tiny revolution by flyby: When Dazai Osamu shows up to class on the first day of his third year of high school, Chuuya wants nothing to do with him. He's too busy juggling homework and part-time work to have any patience for an annoying waste of bandages, but Dazai has other ideas – and the mystery that surrounds him is about to blow Chuuya's own secrets wide open. Principal Fukuzawa said once that what you do in school can change the course of your life, but Chuuya doesn't think he meant it like this.

The Next Page by Hamliet: Built to keep society's strays off the streets, Bungou Academy proclaims to offer its students and teachers a second chance. If only it really did.

Oh darling it’s alarming to think of us apart (you know you’ve got me in your pocket) by inteludewings: “Okay so if we’re both still single when we’re twenty two,” Dazai’s smile grew even wider. “Let’s marry each other.” By the time Chuuya’s twenty two, he’d probably be in a relationship with someone else, and the possibilities of them even remembering each other were slim to none. And so, Chuuya gave his answer. “Fine, let’s do that.” In short, fifteen year olds Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya made a stupid promise one day in their school library out of boredom, which leads to the next seven years of their life filled with fighting, burnt notebooks and late night conversations.

The transfer student with a hat by xxalwayssophia: The Armed Student Council find out about and meet their secretary's boyfriend.

Lost All Judgement by todxrxki: “Uh, sorry, but unfortunately I already have a date to the dance.” “Oh, really?” Tachihara says, sounding disappointed. He pauses for a second, clearly processing what Chuuya’s just told him, and then says, “Who is it?”Chuuya certainly hadn’t budgeted for this. Panicking, he tries to think of the people that he knows that are single, and before he knows it, the first name that comes to mind is slipping out of his mouth. “With Dazai.” / After a momentary lapse in judgment, high school student Chuuya ends up having to pretend to date his enemy Dazai to get Tachihara off of his back - and quickly finds it's nowhere as bad as he'd imagined.

Laws of attraction by setosdarkness: Dazai and Chuuya have always been rivals, have always been there at each other’s throats. It’s almost surreal to think that there might come a time when they go their separate ways....But now, that’s a reality that Chuuya has to face, because Dazai’s going to a different university.

Sorry, I have a boyfriend by dangodangomilk: The prettiest girl in class asks Dazai for a favor— fake date her for a week in an idiotic attempt to make her boyfriend jealous. Obviously, Dazai refuses. One, he wants no part in this bullshitery. Two, he has a boyfriend.Things get messy after Dazai declines her request. Luckily for him, he avoids getting plummeted to the ground when his surprisingly protective boyfriend comes to his rescue.

How to love by arkastadt: Chuuya catches his gaze, takes a deep breath, and says, “Have sex with me.” Oh wow, that sounds awfully wrong — “I mean,” he starts again, losing all edge and grace, “I don’t want to have to sex with you — or I do but not like that! — I just want — damn it!” For some reason, he feels like standing, so he jumps up. “I have never been with anybody, and I want to be ready when it comes to it, so just have sex with me, okay, you asshole!”— In which, Chuuya’s tired of failing classes and being a virgin and makes the deal of a lifetime with Dazai.

Exposed ankles in the modern era by setosdarkness: "Nakahara Chuuya-kun, folding up your pants and exposing your ankles for everyone's view is against the school's regulations."

Triangular by setosdarkness: Chuuya and Dazai fight over Atsushi's affections. At least, that's what Chuuya thinks. In reality, it goes like this:chuuya: thinks they're in a love triangle. dazai: thinks they're in a custody battle over their son atsushi: CHAZUKEEEEEE

A change of mind by Lichtstrahl: It's cute seeing Chuuya so possessive of him, he looked like he was ready to bite everyone's head off for looking at Dazai.

You (who gave me the stars) by setosdarkness: Dazai’s pretty sure that Chuuya’s stalking him because he’s in love with him—no matter how much the chibi denies it. That’s why, it’s a complete shock when Chuuya confesses that he actually has been trying to get on Dazai’s good graces so he can ask for help in wooing Dazai’s best friend instead.

Come, I’ll show you around by Lichtstrahl: "What? Are you not having fun, Chibi?" "I'm certain this is not what the teacher meant by showing me around the school." He said with an exasperated sigh. 

Pretty in Pink by flowerinaacup: On Valentine's Day, there’s a new dress code. Wear white if you’re single, red if you’re taken, or pink if you’re crushing on someone. Dazai comes to school in pink bandages.

strawberries and cigarettes by inteludewings: Nakahara Chuuya, one of the most popular kids at his school, always had his eye on the quiet yet mysterious Dazai Osamu who sat at the back of the class. After unexpected circumstances, he finds himself hanging out with him for one long Friday night.Faces were slapped, butts were kicked, feelings were shared, tears were shed, people were arrested and houses were broken into. Not necessarily in that order.

Set alighte, we’re afire love by kiroiimye: "There you go!" Dazai forces a smile onto his face, quickly shoving his quivering hands into the pockets of his tan dress pants. "Now my sheepdog won't completely freeze to death!" Chuuya gingerly brushes his fingers across the jacket buttons before he looks up at Dazai, eyes wide with a soft vulnerability that Dazai rarely sees. "Thanks, shitty mackerel," Chuuya says quietly, and Dazai's heart does a tap-dance of beats. Dazai falls for Chuuya in three steps: first unknowing, then slowly, and then all at once. [Or: The fic where Dazai's been planning the most extravagant, flabbergasting confession to his best friend Chuuya...and subsequently messes everything up with a simple text message.]

eternity (I’d choose you every time) by orphan_account: When Nakahara Chuuya wakes up on September 3rd, at 7:37 AM for the third time, he’s irritated. The first thing he does is check the date. When his phone screen flashes Friday, September 3rd, he groans and burrows back underneath his covers.This cannot be happening. Or, Chuuya gets stuck repeating the same day over and over, Dazai is an asshole, and chaos ensues.

#soukoku #soukoku fanfiction #soukoku fanfic #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #skk #skk fanfic #fanfic masterlist #fanfic rec #high school au #bungou stray dogs #bsd