#don’t we all gay panic sometimes

[bassciven]

like it’s not about all the little things that i keep saying are pissing me off. it’s the fact that i continuously feel like an afterthought in my own relationship because she’s too wrapped up in her own thoughts in her own head to notice the world around her and act like she isn’t the only one in it.

[cryptidstealingyourcreditcard]

i propose a redo of race to the edge, but this time with a mature rating. imagine:

(spoilers for rtte)

actually being able to see characters deaths and wounds

more depth into snotlout and spitelouts relationship- it’s clearly not a healthy one

more depth into hiccstrid and other couples

specifically, queer couples and characters- we know gobber and snotlout are gay/bi respectively, but we never get more info on that subject

actual blood and wounds

let!!! them!!! say!!!!! fuck!!!!!

more clarification on which dragon fire hurts which dragons, and which ones don’t

blood!!

ruff and tuff clearly have things to say that are not age appropriate, let them say it

could go more in depth with the scarier side of the dragons

show the effects of characters getting wounded!!!!

just. everything about dagur.

could go more in depth with fishlegs’s anxiety?

on that note, all of the gang’s mental health- hiccup clearly overworks and blames himself for everything, astrid has obvious anger issues and pent up rage, snotlout pretends to think he’s better than everyone else to mask his cripplingly low self esteem, fishlegs 100% has anxiety or some kind of panic disorder, ruff is already canonically frustrated with being “a woman in a man’s world” and doesn’t feel appreciated enough, and tuff doesn’t seem to value his own well being very much- not to mention that he literally has hallucinations sometimes

and dagur definitely has something that causes him to be in a constant state of mania

gustav and his parents- he said his mother only notices he’s gone after the third day????

at least one person on berk has (consensually) fucked a dragon. give me some background on that.

at least half of the riders cursing like sailors

being able to show sicknesses better- the time astrid caught the scourge of odin, the time astrid got deathly poisoned, plus the time astrid went blind (astrid sure does get beat up a lot damn)

just give me all the things we couldn’t have as kids!!!! blood!!! gore!!!!!!! death!!!!!!! cursing!!!!!! gays!!!!!!!!! abusive relationships!!!!!!!!! kissing that doesn’t look awkward and forced!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! monster fuckers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! come on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

that is all, thank you for your time

[myreallovelymind]

Friday Date Night

We matched the day after Christmas. He’s different than other guys. He texts me in the morning, he asked me out pretty early, gave me a date and planned the whole night for us. He was up North in England over the holidays so I had to wait a week.

A week is both good and bad. More time to chat but also, I was worried both of us were going to imagine someone in our heads and be disappointed by the other when we actually met.

He gave me a restaurant to meet at. A dumpling place in China Town. He got us a pre-theatre menu where you get two baskets of dim sum and a cocktail. I look up the place, it looks pretty basic but he might know that the dumplings are amazing!

Turns out, right before I leave, he tells me we aren’t going there but he wanted to surprise me with where we were actually going. Surprises are both fun and not fun for me. So I do some investigating and figure out where we are actually going. Super stalker, I know!

I turn up, he’s all wrapped up because it’s cold but he has a hot man bun! We get up, I’m nervous. I want him to like me but I want to like him! I don’t believe in masking and pretending I’m someone I’m not so I’m just me. A little silly and weird but me.

We chat and eat. The drinks are great! Mid way through, he realises I’m quite competitive and tells me that he wants to see me again and if I did to, he had an idea for our second date. Clear communication or what??

I’m very dry in my humour so tell him absolutely not and I’m having an awful awful time. We have another drink and then he tells me he has more planned. He doesn’t tell me where we go which causes me stress but it’s quite fun. The meal was like 100 quid and he just pays. I feel bad but it’s also kinda hot.

He takes me to this Irish pub which is in a chapel. It’s really cool! We get two baby Guinness (which I had never had)and he orders me a whiskey & ginger beer. I insist on paying because equality, which I know he really appreciates (brownie points for me). It’s super busy and loud so we have to stand. That’s when I know I want him to kiss me or touch me.

I’ve said it before but my body tells me if I like someone or not. If I want them to touch me, especially in public, I know I fancy them. So I lean in a little and we laugh and drink. It’s so loud, so he decides we should go to stop #3.

It’s a fun gay bar. We get hot toddy’s and sit outside. We talk about our lives. The good and bad parts. Our knees are touching and he sometimes strokes my thigh with his hands. I’m getting really turned on. He chat until midnight and that’s when we get kicked out.

He likes to plan and the plan got derailed because he expected them to be open until later. I see him panic and asks me if I want to still hang out as he doesn’t want this to end. I obviously agree. So we end up going to a Jazz bar which is quite famous in London. There’s a long queue but he tells me we can cut in. He is a member so gets free entry for us.

It’s amazing there. We get more amazing cocktails and we get a seat. We are right next to each other and our legs are touching. We listen to some great music and chat some more. Then he tells me he wants to kiss me. He puts his hand onto my cheek and we kiss.

He can kiss! I find it’s either great and I want more. Or I know I don’t want to see them again. I also hate PDA but I want him to kiss me. We chat, watch and kiss periodically. We stay there until 2/3 am! Then he says he doesn’t fuck on a first date but he would love to keep chatting to me if I wanted to come over. I say only if we can continue kissing.

We get an Uber to his place where he lives alone which is always hot for some reason. I genuinely don’t think he expected to invite me back because his place isn’t spotless. It’s messy but not dirty. He makes me a tea and we chat about music as he put different tiny desk sets on TV.

We make out a lot. I’m straddling him as we kiss. Dry humping like virgin teenagers. I can see the conflict in his eyes but I keep telling him there’s absolutely no pressure from me. I’m teasing but I respect his boundaries. We get to bed at 5 am after chatting. He gives me a t shirt and honestly, getting changed in front of him freaks me out a little. It’s so much more vulnerable than being undressed mid sex.

I get into his bed and we cuddle. I never stay over. Since starting dating, I’ve done it two individual times. That’s it. We cuddle and before you know it, I’m straddling him and we keep kissing. He asks me if I wanted to fuck as he needs me. I say yes. I jump off and he gets a condom. I ride him. Fuck he feels good. He says he’s worried about finishing too soon as he’s still quite drunk. I don’t care. Never have. The tease of just a few minutes of being filled feels amazing. Probably linked to the denial. But he lasts. He’s grabbing my hips and I’m grinding.

I never quite realise I’m loud. I don’t fake, I just feel. He tells me I need to be quiet so he puts his hand on my mouth. I grab his hand. I love it. Then he asks me if I want I be gagged. Yes please. He gags me and I look at him. He tells me how hot I look and we just look into each others eyes.

He is getting close as I get lost in it. He holds onto my hips and cums hard. I collapse. We hug to sleep.

He comes cuddle me at 8:30 am. 2/3 hours after we sleep. We kiss a little and then it gets more and more intense.

Before you know it, I’m on all fours and he’s fucking me. He says I look way too hot and he’s going to cum. Quick fuck but again, I love it.

We cuddle. He orders us Mc Donald’s in bed. We go into the living room. I’m just wearing his t shirt with no underwear as they are soaked. I am super dehydrated and hangover so I’m not as wet as normal but it’s still wetter than the average gal as he mentions it.

We eat and watch TV all morning. I need to leave in 45 minutes but I need another fuck. I get back into bed and 10 minutes before I need to leave, I start kissing him. He fucks me from behind, pulling my hair and holding me. It feels amazing. Then, he tells me to ride him and calls me a good girl. I get so close to cumming, I need him to stop. He hasn’t quite understood denial or the extent that I need it. He tells me he would like me to cum but it’s okay if i don’t want to. I shake my head no, and we keep fucking. He’s getting close and I beg him to cum. It’s raw and sweaty and hot. He feels amazing. He cums, I jump off and get ready to leave. I make a joke about doing a shag and dash!

He kisses me goodbye before I run off to go meet my friends.

He likes me, I like him and he’s invited me to watch the NFL tonight at his ✌️

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of August. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love. Happy reading!

1) Louis Confess | Explicit | 1,667 words

Louis always liked Harry, when he sees himself desperate for him, he decides to tell everything.

2) No Turning Back Now | Not Rated | 2,256 words

“Let’s go to New York City, Lou! A fun getaway with lots to do.” Louis nearly choked on his water and shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.” Niall frowned. “But we talk about it all the time. You don’t want to go see it in person?” Louis pointed a finger at his friend and corrected him. “You talk about it all the time. I’m pretty sure I just smile and nod at what you’re saying until I fall asleep.”

3) The Mundane Reminded Me Of You | Explicit | 3,185 words

Things between Harry and Louis have been tense since Louis confessed having feelings for Harry. Harry has been telling him that he’s not interested, but keeps giving Louis mixed signals. When Louis tries to understand what those mixed signals are, Harry just keeps acting avoidant and refuses to answer Louis’ questions. Niall, who is close with both of them, decided to get involved to try to help, but just ended up making things worse. Now, Louis has cut them off both. Niall keeps trying to reach out to Louis, but Louis doesn’t want to hear anything about it. With One Direction being on their Midnight Memories tour, everyone has been feeling that tension and no one knows what to do about it. One day, Harry has had enough and decides to confront Louis about how he’s been treating Niall.

4) Give Me That Adrenaline| Explicit | 4,636 words

It's the 80s, Louis works in a sex shop and it's one of those boring days... until, yes... until Harry enters the shop in all his glory...

5) Symphony | Teen & Up | 4,981 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users. 

In the peaceful countryside, Harry Styles is a hardworking farmer who’s all about keeping things running smoothly on his farm. But when a routine check on his crops leads to a nasty fall from his horse, Harry finds himself seriously injured. Determined not to worry his pregnant omega, Louis, he stubbornly drives himself to the hospital, knowing full well that Louis would be frantic if he found out. Meanwhile, Louis gets a call that sends him into a panic—Harry’s in the hospital. Rushing to his side, Louis is a mix of anger and worry, not sure whether to scold Harry or hug him. As they reunite, the two navigate their emotions, and despite the scare, their bond only deepens, proving that together, they can handle anything life throws at them.

6) Desire | Explicit | 6,123 words

Louis Tomlinson is a teacher at a secondary school in London. He loves his job and the students he teaches. He’s been teaching Maths at the school for 3 years now. Before this school, he taught at a school with younger kids In his hometown of Doncaster for a year. Louis left his mum, step dad, and younger stepbrother, Harry, behind in Doncaster. Today Louis received a call from his mum that she and his step dad are having struggles in their marriage and need him to take Harry in for a while because she cant deal with a teenage boy right now. This is not news to him. Since their parents married, they have had a very rocky relationship. Louis and Harry have always been a kind of close that few could understand even them sometimes. They were always tactile and loving towards one another in and out of the public eye. The last ten months have been nothing more than daily text and calls between the boys. Louis being older than Harry and gay always knew it was much more than just a brotherly bond or a bond over a troubled and tumultuous home life. Part of leaving home was Louis’ way of putting a healthy distance between them so Harry could find a nice girl and have the chance at a normal life.

7) The Sacrifices of Righteousness | Explicit | 6,989 words

Priest Harry eats Louis out and then fucks him on the altar in the Sanctuary of the Church

8) Home Is Nest to You | Teen & Up | 7,340words

Being an omega, Louis was well accustomed to nesting. He had lost count of the number of times he'd nested throughout his life. But, there were five times in particular that he'd never forget.

9) I Want Nothing But You Beside Me | Explicit | 10,168 words

Louis is an omega cam boy, desperate to be fucked by a real alpha. When he ends up in heat, he goes live and begs his favourite viewer to come and knot him.

10) Consumed By All These Yesterdays | Explicit | 10,159 words

“I love you too, by the way,” Louis said in his arms. “And I will love you next summer, and the summer after that, and for every summer we have together for the rest of our lives.” “And I will love you more.” Louis would leave Harry’s summer home two days later, and it would become the fifth consecutive year that they would drift apart through fall and winter, but Harry wasn’t afraid. They always had the summer time and without a doubt it would inevitably bring them back together.

11) Bad Logic | Explicit | 14,108 words

Louis tried to tell Harry he was interested in him years ago. When a misunderstanding occurs, leading to a 5 year long feud, can they finally figure each other out?

12) Given Half A Chance | Explicit | 15,226 words

Louis commits suicide and Harry does everything to get him back.

13) Miracles At Sunsets | Teen & Up | 16,351 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users. 

Harry and Louis are best friends bound by years of shared memories, but their relationship is complicated by a tangle of unspoken emotions. Harry, an Alpha, is deeply in love with Louis, an Omega, but fears revealing his true feelings might shatter the friendship they’ve built. When Harry decides it’s time to settle down and start a new chapter in his life, he turns to Louis, an interior designer, for help in finding the perfect home. What begins as a light-hearted search for a house soon becomes a journey of self-discovery and emotional upheaval. As they explore potential homes, their bond is tested by the growing tension between what is said and what remains hidden. Can Harry find the courage to reveal his heart, or will their unspoken desires tear them apart?

14) Home Is Wherever I'm With You | Explicit | 20,742 words

Louis' life is changed drastically when he is dragged off to the bathroom by his biggest crush.....his college professor.

15) Porcupine | Explicit | 82,250 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users. 

Louis, a broke omega librarian, finds his quiet life in Vienna turned upside down when he meets a charming four-year-old boy named Venus, who insists that Louis is his "Mama." When Venus's father, Harry���a powerful and dangerous mafia leader—offers Louis a lucrative job as the boy's full-time nanny, Louis steps into a world where love and danger are deeply intertwined. As Louis grows closer to Harry and Venus, he discovers the perilous secrets of Harry's underworld life. Their unexpected connection sparks a passionate romance, but with Harry's enemies closing in, Louis must navigate a treacherous path where his heart and life are at risk. This is a thrilling tale of love, danger, and the irresistible pull of two souls drawn together against all odds.

16) Brat Camp | Explicit | 93,099 words

Bratty sub Louis Tomlinson gets sent to ‘Brat Camp’. Dom Harry Styles is the Counsellor assigned to him, tasked with correcting his attitude and behaviour.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[mimikyuno]

🎨🎀 cozy mizuena headcanons to cope with mizu5 🎀🎨

ena and mizuki sometimes post dancing videos on tiktok! ena is Terrible at learning the dances and mizuki teases her the whole time so when they eventually have the videos ready for upload ena is always frowning in them

for ena’s birthday, mizuki once made a 2dmv using ena’s selfies (which she animated) as a silly present… ena pretended to be annoyed but she was in full lesbian panic thinking of mizuki spending hours animating and editing her selfies alsgslsgsk disaster lesbian

mizuki’s real present that birthday was to pay for ena’s desserts at a cute cafe! ena loved taking cute pics of the place for her account but by the end of the day she ended up with more pictures of mizuki and of the two of them together than of herself or the place

this is not rly a headcanon bc it’s been established in game but they go shopping together at the mall at least once a week! they both get butterflies in their stomach and blush when the other recommends some clothes or makeup that would suit them

they love lending clothes and make up to each other!! they both act rly gay in private when they try on the other’s lipstick/lipgloss (their hearts hammering in their chests bc “this is an indirect kiss…”) and they breathe a bit deeper when wearing the other’s clothes, the scent making their chests feel tight with longing

for their first official date, they took the train and went to the place where they went on a picnic with airi and shizuku all that time ago. this is because they didn’t wanna run into anyone they knew and wanted a quiet place to be alone. they have a nice picnic and both are too nervous to talk but then mizuki breaks the silence by teasing ena about her bento looking all funny (she tried her best okay!). after that it’s all like usual!! the share bentos, talk about nothing, and on the walk back to the bus stop their hands brush together and they are both so red in the face they laugh at each other. they hold hand properly as they wait for the bus, looking at a beautiful sunset

after they get together, they don’t immediately tell mafuyu and kanade bc they’re scared they’ll think something in their group dynamic would change. they tell them in a very officious manner at the usual family diner, and kanade frowns while mafuyu deadpans “you talked about dates in the main channel. also kanade and i are in also involved, we thought you knew, we don’t hide it.” it’s all a bit chaotic after that but then they all laugh (and mafuyu smiles ever so slightly). mizuki already knew that knmf had mutual feelings for each other but she thought they’d say smth if they started dating. ena had no idea.

this is more of a kanamafu headcanon but they think they’re obvious bc they stand very close together and fix each other’s clothes and hold hands etc. but mizuena thought nothing of it bc you know. kanamafu are both quite autistic so norms don’t really apply to their behaviours.

mizuki wants a prize figure for a magical girl anime she likes so they schedule a date at the arcade. mizuki tries her best to get the prize figure but cant. ena decides to be a good girlfriend and says “leave it to me.” she sucks so bad that mizuki cries from laughing as ena yells abuse at the machine and everyone stares at them. ena punches the machine and the figure (which mizuki had moved near the edge) falls in the hole. they both look stare at each other in silence for a second and then laugh so much their bellies hurt. seeing ena laugh so much makes mizuki impulsively kiss her for the first time. they both stare at each other in shock before giggling and hugging

akitoya were at the arcade too, and when akito heard ena yell at the machine he grabbed toya and ran out the arcade without looking back.

akito and ena accidentally plan their coming out on the same evening and it’s chaos at the dinner table (bc they start accusing the other of copying them and “why didn’t you tell me first” and “akiyama? of course… you two are really made for each other” “what is That supposed to mean?!” etc) . their dad doesnt have much to say, but their mom demands they invite mizuki and toya there for dinner some time.

dinner with the shinonome’s is a lot of fun for mizuki! she gets to see ena and akito being silly and keeps teasing them when their mom is out of earshot (she wants to make a good impression). ena’s mom smiles very fondly when she sees ena sneakily putting her carrots on mizuki’s plate and mizuki pretending not to notice. ena’s dad comes back late from the atelier and shakes mizuki’s hand and asks her to take care of ena. it’s a very short meeting but it makes mizuki realize she really IS dating ena and it’s official and she can barely fall asleep that night even though they have been dating for a month.

once ena tried to sketch mizuki but she’s so nervous her hands keep shaking and mizuki’s teasing her but she’s also feeling very self-conscious and her heart wont stop beating fast! ena eventually manages to make a nice portrait, and mizuki grins all the way back home, and hangs the portrait over her bed. she think she looks cuter in the drawing, and keeps grinning thinking that’s how ena sees her.

ena meets yuuki one time when she is back from france and they hit it off rly well!! mizuki is so so happy to see the two most important people to her talk about fashion and french pastries! yuuki was told about ena’s sweet tooth so she brought her some macarons from france, and ena is so happy she is a bit over enthusiastic in thanking yuuki, and mizuki teases her quite a bit about it.

when mizuki goes to get them some drinks, yuuki takes ena aside and thanks her for all she did for mizuki since middle school (with niigo) and asks her to take good care of her little sister while she’s away. she gets a bit teary as she says this, remembering how lonely and miserable mizuki was and how happy she is now. ena also gets teary and when mizuki comes back with drinks, she finds them crying on the sofa lmao

while yuuki is still in town, the three of them go shopping together and yuuki helps both ena and mizuki coordinate their outfits. when it’s time for her to go back to france, she promises ena she’ll sew her some clothes and ship them her way

now that they are dating, mizuki starts going to school more often and actually stays till the end of the day so that she can wait for ena to come take her evening classes. and ena starts going to school a bit early so they can hang out on the roof for a while before mizuki goes home and ena’s classes starts. on the roof, they chill and share snacks and do each other’s make up and read fashion magazines and browse social media together and discuss the music video they’re working on for niigo… sometimes ena draws and mizuki watches editing tutorials on her phone. they always sit very close, hip to shoulder, and sometimes one of them rests their head on their other’s shoulder and they just close their eyes and enjoy each other’s comforting presence

[thomatri]

Kiss Boy

Synopsis- you have a fat crush on Atsumu only one problem he’s straight…or is he?

Paring- Atsumu Miya x mreader

———————————————————————

“So when you gonna ask Atsumu out?” Suna asks randomly as Osamu,him and I eat lunch. Atsumu sometimes eats with us but today he’s eating lunch with his other friends

“Uh never that dude like the most straightest person ever” I say rolling my eyes

“But you like him?” Osamu says

“Hey! I can’t help who I like” I say glaring

“Well I mean you can’t keep pretending you don’t like him” Suna says

“And why is that” I ask

“Cause it’s clearly making you depressed I’m sure you’d feel better if you just told him” Suna says shrugging and I sigh

—————————————————————-

“You should really join the volleyball team man” Atsumu says with a smile, him,Suna,Osamu and I are walking to the gym together for there practice and me to watch like we always do

“Nah I hate playing sports, but I’ll gladly watch y’all play” I say smiling at him

“Dang worth a shot Kita would love you on the team, and me of course” Atsumu says smirking at me and I roll my eyes avoiding eye contact so he doesn’t see my embarrassed face

“Chop chop love birds” Osamu says and I glare

“I’m coming dang” Atsumu says. Maybe I’m just delusional but he didn’t deny us being love birds

Suna notices my delusional and smirks

————————————————————-

Practice feels shorter today for some reason maybe it’s just the fact I’m watching them instead of playing but on our way to the subway station our being Osamu,Atsumu and Suna of course Suna decides to ask dumb ass questions to Atsumu of course

“Hey Atsumu are You Gay?” Suna asks and Atsumu looks hella confused. Osamu snickers and I glare

“What type of question is that?!” Atsumu asks rightfully confused

Suna shrugs

“Well no im not Gay maybe a little bi never really gave it much thought” he says shocking all of us

“Is this how I find out my brother a homosexual”

“What the hell. Did you want me to make a rainbow sign announcing it?!”

Osamu actually considers it but shrugs

“I’m surprised I thought you were straight or definitely homophobic” Suna says snickering glancing at me

“Nah Y/n gay” he says and I stop

“What”

“Your gay arent ya?” Atsumu asks confused like he said something wrong

“I mean yeah but how’d you know?” I ask continuing to walk with Atsumu as Suna and Osamu have walked ahead of us

“Well It’s kinda obvious and I heard you and Suna talking about some guy you like” he says and I’m shocked and embarrassed

“I’m actually kinda hurt you didn’t tell me” he says chuckling

“Well I definitely planned to” I say cursing myself for what I’m about to say

“Really? When?” He asks

“I can right now” I say trying to ignore everything telling me not to

“Oh ok” he says and we’re engulfed in silence as I contemplate how to word it for a second

“Uh well” I start

“Is it Suna?” He asks

“WHAT NO” I say looking at him shocked

“Oh carry on” he says laughing and I smile god I could listen to his laugh all day

“I like you Atsumu” I say and he stops walking

Shit

“REALLY?!” He says and now I’m shocked again by his reaction idk what I expected but him yelling really wasn’t it

“Seriously?” He asks

“Seriously” I say shrugging trying to seek non chalont but inside I’m dying screaming throwing up

“Why?” He asks and I stare

“Uh your hot,funny,a great person,hot” I say shrugging

“I noticed how smart wasn’t on that list” he says glaring and I snicker

“You have other great qualities” I say shrugging with a closed eyed smirk

I open my eyes in shock when I feel Atsumu lips on mine

He brings a hand of cup my face and I lean into the kiss

We kiss until we’re out of breath

“Holy shit” He says

“Your a pretty good kisser for someone who’s never had a first kiss” he says smirking and I roll my eyes

“Can’t believe you remember that” I say and he laughs

…

“Fuck we missed the subway” I say and we both start to panic

No Suna or Osamu in sight

All of a sudden I get a call from Suna

��hey pookie” Suna says

“Shut the hell up where are y’all” I ask annoyed

“Boo your no fun, we’re on the subway we thought y’all could use a moment so I’ll just pick y’all up, Osamu already old there parents there spending a night at my place” Suna says

“Thank god you have a car,but don’t pull this stupid shit again” I say trying to stay mad but still extremely thankful he did this

“Damn a little thank you would be nice, trust I won’t though spending gas money just so you two idiots can get together. This is a one time thing” Suna says and I hear Osamu laugh

“Thanks,seriously” I say smiling

“No problemo friendo”

“See ya” Osamu says as Suna hangs up

“Welp” I say

“We’re stuck in the middle of the night alone” I say shrugging and Atsumu is grinning

“What’s got you so happy?” I ask giving him a confused look and he shrugs with his smile still painting his face

“Nothing just happy your my boyfriend” he says and I’m stunned not gonna,ain’t expect him to say that but I smirk

“Oh? You never asked me out”

“Will you be my boyfriend Y/n L/n” he says seriously and I almost bust out laughing

“Yes of course Atsumu Miya” I say smiling at my new boyfriend

———————————————————————

Bonus

———————————————————————

After going to a park,calling my parents to let them know I’m spending a night at Suna which thankfully they ran with cause until he got to us we had no way home, and making out with Atsumu we finally got to Suna place where we both painted each others nails

Atsumu thought it made him look a little to feminine and Osamu just didn’t want to which we both didn’t complain about obviously

“I want all the juicy details” Osamu says finding a movie on Suna laptop

“Well I thought Y/n liked Suna, he confessed we kissed and I asked him out” Atsumu says and Osamu gives him a disgusted look

“That was the vaguest explanation ever I said details boy” Osamu says rolling his eyes and Atsumu glared and I groan knowing there about to argue

“Look Atsumu my nails” I say trying to distract him

“Ooo there pretty can you do mine” he says beaming and Suna snickers

“What happened to it’s too feminine” Suna says with a hand on his hip

“Damn your right hmm just do one hand I wanna match with Y/n” Atsumu asks and I laugh

“Alr loverboy” Suna says starting to paint the bleached haired boys nails

[anjumstar]

anjum's bkdk recs 20

Ten more (complete) sfw bkdk fic recs. If you read any of these and enjoy them, lmk! And, more importantly, let the authors know with a comment! Plus, send me your recs, and maybe they’ll make the next list!

Legend

hyperlinked title by author | word count

Genre warning(s): where relevant Summary/review

💚🧡 = fave

Recs are under the cut, organized by word count, low to high.

61. notebook by delicate cherry, sobashouto (snowandfire) | 2.3k

romance, general A really short and sweet fic that’s kind of the moments just before bkdk start dating. The boys aren’t quite seeing eye-to-eye, Baku isn’t communicating exactly what he’s feeling, but that’s what makes it feel really in character. They’re not great at this, but they’re just starting to try.

62. Hey, I’m Fine by majjale | 3.2k 💚🧡

angst, romance Angst with a happy ending! I didn’t trust this author, though, haha, I really thought I was about to get staked through the heart. (I don’t always read tags…) Lovely characterization, especially for Deku. It’s tender and domestic meets pro hero life. Love that intersection, as it’s basically all I want for bkdk. Pro hero canonverse action with soft domesticity. Perfect.

63. Diversion Tactic by garbage_dono | 7.5k 💚🧡

romance A cute take on UA bkdk getting together! Feels grounded in canon with good characterization. And it’s somehow fresh in its initiating event, with following gay panic from our beloved Bakugou.

64. Not All Heroes Wear Capes by vulcanhighblood | 11k

romance, fake dating, get together Fake dating fic! Bakugou has the brilliant idea to fake date Deku to get paparazzi off Deku’s back. Maybe not brilliant, lol. The fic has good doses of Baku’s brand of immaturity, it feels age appropriate, and Deku surely has a backbone against Baku’s silly scheme.

65. half drunk, happy by froggenbie | 13.2k

warning: drunk (non-explicit) (bkdk not dkbk) sex romance, get together Bkdk are roommates after graduation, and they start having drunk hookups. Then they’re not so drunk. I knew the writing would be quality right at the beginning of this fic. Sometimes you just know. Bkdk have their horrible communication skills but natural chemistry and deep need for each other and it was a great take on a familiar story.

66. Go Get Your Man, Young Bakugou! by red_sneakers | 16.6k

comedy, romance This one is pretty silly. Not quite crack, because I can kind of believe it for these losers XD They need a bit of help and extra guidance to get together, but it’s nice to see the boys being stupid together while falling in love.

67. Voicemail by raeryn | 20.7k

angst warning: MCD If you wanna cry on the train like I did, read this one. I’ll go ahead and tell you, since it’s clear from early on—Deku is dead and Baku isn’t handling it well. The story is his long journey to reaching some level of closure with some help from his friends. Unhappy ending isn’t usually my fave genre, but idk, this one ends nicely, even if the sad doesn’t fully go away.

68. Walls I Didn’t Know I Had by Elisa Jaded | 21.5k

hurt/comfort, romance Post-war, Katsuki wakes up from his injuries to find that Deku isn’t in the shelter with everyone else. Turns out he’s somewhere else, in desperate need of Baku’s support. They find happiness again together, good balance of realistic angst to romance!

69. Healing Pains by lurethegalaxy | 23.2k

romance Pining Bakugou and oblivious Deku is such a delicious flavor. Bakugou having done some level of emotional work on himself—but still being constipated to heck and gone—while Deku just avoids avoids avoids feels so correct to me. I liked living in that take with a fic recent enough that it feels really grounded in what the directly post-war aftermath would have felt like.

70. The Night We Met by majjale | 37.3k

angst, adventure, romance Another painful one. Baku is immortal and Deku keeps dying. AU. Now, you know I hate AUs, (and I had the same issues here I always do, tbh…) but the prose is magnificent. I wish I’d been highlighting as I read. Even if I imagine these as OCs, it’s worth the read because of the writing quality. The brief, cryptic author’s notes add to it. If you’re okay with a pretty heavy dose of angst, please give it a go. (I linked the series, as there are 2 very short sequels)

more recs can be found here 💚🧡

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Hey friends! Hope you’re all doing okay out there. Sometimes, I wish we could just pile into a cozy gaming den, sink into bean bag chairs, and play TLOU all night. Imagine trading stories, laughing at our bad stealth moves (I'm actually really good at this game, but I can pretend.) It’d be such a cool way to spend some time. Just a bunch of nerdy gays looking out for each other.

Take care of yourselves out there. I know the world is a tough place to be sometimes.

Okay, so Abby is 100% a note writer, and I’m crazy about the idea. She writes letters to her deceased friends and family in the game, and that’s spun into this whole headcanon for me where she’s constantly leaving notes. Lipstick on mirrors, scribbles on torn-up envelopes, walls, ammo boxes... anything she can find.

And, of course, her journal is full of these big, emotional entries. Honestly, she’d be the most wonderful pen pal. Like, I’m talking deep, heartfelt letters that you’d reread a million times.

And when Abby is struggling? Best believe she picks up a pen, and she writes to her father.

Dad,

For as long as I can remember, I’ve carried the weight of everything alone. The memories haunt me like ghosts I can’t seem to shake. It’s the trauma, I know, but some days, it feels like more than that. Like it’s shaped who I am in ways I don’t know how to undo.

I've built walls, Dad. Walls so high and so thick that not even the people closest to me have seen me truly break. Not even my squad, the ones who trust me to lead and protect them, see anything more than the version of me I’ve carefully put together. And you know what? I'm really tired of hiding.

You always told me strength wasn’t just about surviving... it was about living, about finding a way to keep going even when it felt impossible. But lately, I’ve been wondering if I’ve taken that lesson the wrong way. I thought that holding everything inside made me strong. That showing the pain, the fear, and the fucking panic would make me weak. Now I’m not so sure.

The truth is, I’m scared. Scared to let anyone get close. Scared to show them the parts of me I’ve hidden for so long. But this year, I want to change that.

I want to stop believing that what I’ve been through makes me broken. I want to stop convincing myself that letting someone in will make me vulnerable in a way I can’t recover from. I want to let go of the fear that my scars make me unworthy of love.

You always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. And I think that’s why I’m writing this. Because I want to honor what you taught me. I want to find the courage to let someone see me... not the soldier, not Isaac’s top dog, but me.

I know it won’t be easy. Opening up feels like the hardest fight I’ve ever faced. But I can’t keep living behind this armor. I can’t keep suffocating under the weight of my pain. This year, I’m going to try.

I miss you every day. I hope you’d be proud of me, of who I’m trying to become.

Love,

Abby

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ep 3. take your time | myj, jjk

sugar, spice, and everything nice ep 3. take your time.

pairing(s): yoonji x reader x jungkook

summary: Er, how to put this? The previous mission was a total fail. Min Yoonji can't face Jeon Jungkook after being so overly confident in her plans - so she avoids him. Yup. Surely this means she'll avoid his fuckbuddy too, right? Wrong. The universe must be working against her... or is it?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; pan!f!reader; pan!Yoonji; internalized homophobia; gay panic + w/w sexual tension; best friend!Jung Hoseok visits; minor alcohol consumption; boiled dumpling Yoonji; f/f/m love triangle? slow burn; minor smut (sex dreams); non-idol!AU - Yoonji's POV

--

She did her very best.

In the end, it wasn’t enough.

It was pretty easy to not interact. After all, scheduling conflicts made it difficult to have the entire friend group meet up. Everyone was an adult with their own lives now, like it or not, and they were all at different stages in life. Still, they made an effort to at least meet up in small groups.

Min Yoonji had started making sure that she wasn’t alone with Jeon Jungkook.

She wasn’t sure if she could look him in the eyes without him knowing something was up. He was spacey, not an idiot. Acted like one, ha, but she didn’t really want him to change that.

Turned out, though, that Yoonji had nothing to worry about.

“Oh, Jungkook? He said he had to cancel last minute. Something came up. But, hey, that kid gave me some money and said we can eat on his dime today,” Park Jimin had laughed, holding out some folded bills. “Can you believe that kid? I tried to tell him we were older than him, but he just replied with, whatever, Jimin-ssi. Rude!”

And, well, Yoonji herself didn’t accept invitations sometimes. She was, at heart, an introvert after all, and at times it was difficult to muster up the energy for a social interaction. She used to feel bad about that, but therapy – and her best friend Jung Hoseok, surprisingly – helped her understand it. Strange that high-extrovert Hoseok was the one who insisted Yoonji to stay home and rest sometimes. Perhaps it was because he could easily sense the disparity in their tolerance for social situations since they were so different. She had always told Hoseok that he was rather wise, but smiley Hoseokie had always laughed and swore it was the opposite when it came to the two of them. She always trusted his judgement, or, rather, his lack of judgement. He had always been easy to talk to. It was rare for him to be without a smile.

Jung Hoseok smiled now, hugging Yoonji without hesitation when she came to pick him up at the bus stop.

“Thanks for spending one of your vacation days to come see me.”

That cheerful laugh stuck the air and Yoonji realized how much she missed the infectious, bubbly quality of it on the regular. “Don’t be silly. And, you know, before this I went to see Namjoonie too.” Bright orange beanie, caramel-colored coat, big eyeglasses with a rainbow pattern printed on the inside of the black plastic frame. Hoseok still had his healthy tan complexion but he seemed more built now, which was a little strange since he had always been a slender, lithe man. That hug had some real strength behind it. “I saw my parents the day before too. My mom cooked me a feast even though it was only a few vacation days, haha! So many plates! If you hadn’t been working, I would have invited you to come to Gwangju but that would have troubled you too much. My dad asked how you were too. I asked him how I was supposed to know when I’m stuck at the base?! He’s so funny!”

Yoonji couldn’t help but smile at his healing energy.

They walked to a restaurant with Hoseok doing most of the talking and Yoonji listening, passively beaming at his presence. She had missed him. She didn’t say so, but she didn’t need to. It wasn’t like her to be sappy anyway. Not without a drink, at least. Hoseok knew, anyway. He would tell his animated stories, lightly holding her arm for emphasis, and at the right time Yoonji would provide the exaggerated reaction, causing Hoseok to double over in laughter, his shining eyes getting crinkly and his mouth forming his signature heart-shaped smile.

They naturally settled back into their friendship as if Hoseok hadn’t been away for months for his mandatory military service.

With Hoseok, it was hard to have any worries.

They sat down, ate, conversed. It would have been nice to have the rest of the friend group there too, and maybe they would have a chance to all configure together later, perhaps at a karaoke bar late at night, but for right now it was only Hoseok and Yoonji. She had asked him if it was possible to have a conversation, but Hoseok had set several hours aside instead and suggested to get dinner.

“Something’s on your mind.”

They had half-drunk glasses of wine in front of them. Their plates were cleared now, and they were patiently waiting for dessert. Hoseok leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. A comforting, gentle one. For a moment, Yoonji looked away. A mixture of embarrassment and collecting her thoughts.

“It’s obvious, hah,” she mumbled.

“Hey, only because I’ve known you for so long,” he chuckled, waving away her doubts. “If it was something you didn’t want to talk about for the sake of hurting others, you would practice avoidance. If it was something you wanted to be asked about, you would come for advice but not forget to treat me first.” Hoseok shook his head, smiling warmly. “But, noona, you know you can say anything to me whenever you want, right? You always listen to my worries right away. I want to return the favor, too.”

She sighed ruefully. “It’s not just for you. Me, too. I can’t say something without working up the courage to it.”

“Courage? Aish. You’re a lot stronger than you let yourself know.”

Hoseok was, as always, wise. Maybe without he himself knowing it.

Sure, Yoonji had been able to push through a lot of hardships. Loving music when her parents had been against it. Bullying at school and trying to avoid troubling her parents with what was going on. Rough financial patches during university where she had to choose between one meal a day or going home on the bus. More than once having to weasel her way out of a potentially dangerous situation that involved alcohol and potential harassment.

But none of these things were love.

Intense attraction. Layers of guilt. Daydreams bordering on delusion. Unseen, intangible, and yet unmistakably there. It made no sense. It made all the sense. She had tried to push the thoughts away, but they always came back with a vengeance.

In dreams.

Yoonji bit her lip.

The dreams.

Even just last night. Another dream that had forced her awake with her blankets twisted around her body like snakes, her heart pounding and shivers all over, breathing fast. Often, her dreams resembled a house of cards, stacks of different images, imagination and memory blending. Thoughts colliding, collapsing into each other, and Yoonji would wake up catching bits and pieces but ultimately mostly remembering the last scenes. The ones that woke her up.

Darkness.

A weight over her eyes. Her breath catching as a soft touch traced her inner thigh. Her brain catching up, the weight on her eyes resembling fingers. A hand. An elegant one. A whisper, smokey-sweet, that became lost to the abyss even though the impact of those words lingered, causing an addicting tingle throughout her veins. Pleasure. Warm and encompassing even though it was only between her legs. Familiar and yet unfamiliar because Yoonji knew it wasn’t herself that was doing it, but effect was the same, if not stronger due to the foreign excitement and maybe slight fear too, not because she was exposed but because there was some level of expectation, wasn’t there?

Nervous?

Of course not. Just because she had never done it before herself didn’t mean she didn’t know how it worked. She had seen enough porn in her lifetime.

Don’t let acting mindfuck you into being unable to appreciate the now.

That was true. She tried to clear her head, tried to simply feel what was happening, and that turned out to be easy. Her breath catching in her lungs as she felt soft, plush lips against her neck. Teeth nipping at her throat. A hand over her eyes and another between her legs, stroking her clit and making her hips flinch with the sensitivity, profoundly aware of how slippery those fingertips were against hot, wet skin, electricity crawling over her chest, short on air, and then.

The hand lifted.

Scorched eyes close, darker with desire.

She couldn’t look away, even as she felt another pair of hands against her side, kneading her thigh and up her torso. Afraid? Shook her head, too nervous to speak and then she saw the tousle of black hair, the two lip rings punctured into the right side of a lower lip graced with a small mole under the center of them.

Her head jerked and Jeon Jungkook grinned back at her, his naked chest glistening with sweat.

Last night, once again, Yoonji had been jolted awake by the shock.

“Hoseok, I…”

Guiltily, she looked up, into inquisitive, bright brown eyes behind lenses framed by black and rainbow colors.

“I think I might do something stupid, and it involves a girl.”

-

The roar of the train tried to deafen her thoughts.

Unfortunately, Yoonji’s mind was a persistent bitch.

Hmph.

Despite it all, she couldn’t even begin to confront the tumultuous whispers within. It was a not-so-complicated problem with a simple solution, as long as emotions weren’t factored into it. As long as daydreams of day dates and nightmares of lost nights weren’t factored into it. As long as Yoonji didn’t sit on the subway using every minute to analyze every tick of the head and struggle to recall exactly how those fingers fell upon each object held, she’d be fine.

She simply couldn’t bring herself to let go.

Yoonji sat against the window, headphones in, clutching her phone as if she was scrolling, but all she could see was the unfairness of life and its impossible choices. Her music had paused. At the moment she didn’t notice for, once again, she was mulling over Hoseok’s words. Not much had changed since her best friend had provided her a listening ear. After some time and more wine, they had chosen to walk along the streets, reminiscing with each step, but then eventually Hoseok brought up the subject again.

“I don’t ever want to see you sad, noona.”

“That’s literally impossible. Sad shit happens all the time.”

“I know it’s impossible,” Hoseok had laughed, and then sighed softly. His cheeks were still rosy from drinking. “I know it’s impossible, but I can’t be your friend and not wish that. As your friend, I’m always on your side, yet I’m no problem-solver either. You were always better at that.”

Yoonji had snorted even though it was unwomanly.

Hoseok had chuckled, not minding it. “There are no right answers in life, remember? You told me that a long time ago when I was having a hard time.” Like waves, her words drifted back to shore. “Life isn’t meant to have correct answers. Life is meant to live.”

Then why did it have to be so fucking complicated?

Of course it would be logical and lovely to stay silent and distant. Of course it would be reckless and exciting to get closer to the flame even with the foreboding threat of trampled sandcastles and broken hearts. Was it better to burned and better for it, or burned into ashes with nothing but the smoke of regret? It would be so much easier living in a vacuum without knowing other people could be affected by her choices, but love was not that kind of space, no matter how vast and endless it seemed. Yoonji chewed the side of her lip, focusing on the tug of velocity from the moving train underneath, searching for the physical sensation to ground her. The train slowed, yet she couldn’t help but be jolted by the stop nonetheless. People filtered out. People filtered in. The crackling announcement overhead murmured out warnings no one quite listened to but everybody knew. Stay away from the doors when they close, keep track of one’s belongings, those standing should hold on as the train begins to move. Next stop was–

Yoonji felt the air being sucked out of her lungs.

If love was not the vacuum of space, then why couldn’t she breathe now?

She looked away quickly. The image had already burned into her memory. Between the business suits and the trendy streetwear stood the instigator of all her current conflicts. Tousled hair, tight little black top, red plaid miniskirt. Oversized leather jacket over her shoulders. The woman leaned against the wall with a relaxed stance. Not a care in the world. What is she doing here? It was quite late but not so late for the drunkards and creeps to crawl out onto the streets. Yoonji, well, she had been working late taking over a shift for a vacationing co-worker. Although the shop wasn’t open late, she had been busy doing repairs. She noticed the heavy black boots and torn fishnets out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes flickered up and she saw something sticking out of the inside pocket of the leather jacket. A swaying black strap with a grey flame, hanging off a shiny black plastic rod with mother-of-pearl accents.

A lightstick?

She froze up as she felt the burn of scorched eyes.

Looked up and Jeon Jungkook’s girlfriend was staring back at her.

Maybe?

The train slowed.

The ricochet in Yoonji’s ribcage ramped up in speed and intensity as she realized people filtering out, people filtering in, and one gliding towards her. She kept telling herself they hadn’t locked eyes, even right up to the moment that she had a good view of that manicured hand, black with red glitter, wrapping around the train strap in front of her.

“Oh, hey.”

A wry smile and light bow.

The politeness both confused and flustered Yoonji. She sat in her seat, the others next to her indifferent to the mild confrontation that was shattering her composure.

“Ah… hi,” was the best Yoonji had.

The harsh overhead train lighting made the tangle of silver necklaces in front of her face gleam and sparkle. She tried not to look, because that would mean staring at another woman’s chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at that face either. She tried to appear nonchalant, except she forgot what that even meant.

“Hey, about last time we met,” she heard above her. Soft, silky, and smokey. “I wanted to apologize.”

They were close enough for Yoonji to smell the remnants of a heavy, sweet, boozy fragrance. It filled her lungs and made blood thunder in her ears. She couldn’t, for the life of her, recall what an apology was needed for. Although, she couldn’t form any coherent thoughts right now.

“A… Ah.” Yoonji shifted her eyes. “For what?”

“For being a dick, heh.”

She glanced up.

One of the woman’s arms was in her jacket, the one that was holding onto the train strap. The other was tucked behind her back, causing her hips to angle out a bit from the jacket, towards Yoonji. She had fantastic legs. Not that Yoonji was looking or anything. The other woman cleared her throat a bit and looked sheepish.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was rude of me to pick you apart like that.”

That day in the café seemed like it happened ages ago. “Oh… I haven’t thought about it that way,” Yoonji confessed. She looked down, feeling a little bit ashamed. “You weren’t entirely wrong. I just didn’t want to admit it then.”

“Hmmm.” A brief pause. “The date didn’t go well, then?”

Her hands clasped together. She tried to chuckle to let out the tension. “Hah… You were right that there wasn’t one. The purpose was more to…” Yoonji trailed off. She didn’t know what to say now. Her eyes cautiously flicked upward. Those dark orbs looked down in return, so shadowed they seemed almost black. Burned. An eyebrow raised.

“You really were trying to scope me out, then.”

Yoonji felt her insides wince. “I’m sorry myself.”

A light scoff. “Don’t be. I get it. I give off that vibe, huh?”

There wasn’t a good response to that. She glanced again at the lightstick inside the woman’s jacket. “Did you go to a concert?”

That observant gaze followed hers. “Ah, yeah.” She tucked her head down, and Yoonji noticed the black belt around her waist now. “I try to keep everything on me. Essentials only.” There must be a leather pouch attached to her waist, then. That was why she was keeping a hand on her back.  “Since I go to these events alone.”

She couldn’t help but ask. “Why alone?”

The other woman mused with a pensive expression. “I guess I don’t have many friends that are into the same music I am into. Besides, there’s no stress of looking silly when you’re by yourself. You can enjoy however you like without considering others.”

“That’s just how you are?”

Those scorched eyes locked with Yoonji’s.

“That’s how I’m made to be.”

The sounds around her sounded all muffled. The people around her seemed not all there. She looked upwards with her heart aflutter, her thoughts racing, goosebumps popping up under her hoodie and jeans as Jeon Jungkook’s sort-of, kind-of, definitely-so-damn-hot girlfriend tilted her head at her, and Yoonji wondered why she couldn’t be the cool one, the smooth one, anything but the timid one.

“What brings you out so late?” that hazy, calm voice asked.

“Work,” was all Yoonji could manage.

An understanding nod. “Ah. Must be difficult.”

Not as difficult as this. “When are you getting off?”

The other woman raised her head and looked up to the LED sign. “Hmm, dunno.”

“You don’t know?” Yoonji furrowed her brows. “What do you mean by that?”

“I feel like wandering around,” was the lackadaisical answer.

“Are you crazy?” She straightened, frowning. “You can’t go wandering around at this hour.”

A striking gaze under lashes. “You worried about little ol’ me?”

She scowled. “That’s simply common sense.”

It happened so fast that she couldn’t react. In a swish of leather and chains, that teasing face was suddenly centimeters from Yoonji’s. Eye-to-eye and inescapable. The layered scent of her perfume became more intense, sweet and heavy and boozy, reminding her of Friday nights and bad decisions. That smirk was as annoying as it was arousing, and immediately after thinking that Yoonji wanted to unthink that, but it was too late and she was too fucked.

“Don’t pretend like you want to take responsibility for someone like me.” Her soft breath brushed against Yoonji’s lips. “You don’t like me that much.”

The other woman winked.

She fucking winked.

And as soon as the interaction started, it ended. She stood back up, letting out a soft sigh as she took her perfume away from Yoonji. She glanced at the doors as the train was slowing down again, not saying anything more. It was an ominous comment with an ominous connotation. Unsettling. Definitely dangerous. Borderline infuriating.

No.

Actually infuriating.

“Hey.”

The woman was about to back up, her lips parting, but Yoonji twisted her knee and hooked her leg around the back of those shapely calves, locking her in place. People around them hurried to their destinations, not looking down at their feet, not noticing the shot of tension and challenge between two women. Not that they would know the history between them. It could easily be interpreted as Yoonji helping her friend stabilize from the jerky train.

Those dark eyes darkened.

Yoonji frowned back, not backing down.

The crackly announcement flitted overhead. The train doors closed in unison. The train started again.

“I can’t let you do that,” she said tightly, unsure what the fuck she was doing.

A tilt of the head.

“And why’s that, Min Yoonji?”

There was a low purr in that question. It must be her imagination. She tried not to think about how her heart was doing backflips and quaking in terror from hearing her full name like that.

“I can’t in good conscience let you be so careless.”

They were at a standoff now.

Those berry-stained lips curved into a smirk.

“So your very good, respectable conscience is why you want to interfere?”

Yoonji relaxed her leg. They hadn’t been skin-to-skin because of her jeans, which was a good and bad thing. It was impossible to take a deep breath without being obvious, so she simply didn’t. She didn’t entirely back off though. She should have pulled her leg back. Her little stunt had made those boots take a step forward, nearly colliding with Yoonji’s other knee.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

Strangely, Jungkook’s fuckbuddy didn’t back off.

“Oh, but that’s how you’re acting.”

No, she wasn’t. “I’m not.”

Instead of answering, spiced perfume and leather closed the distance and placed herself right between Yoonji’s open legs. She started, trying to scoot back in her seat, but it was impossible. No one seemed to notice, or at least no one was saying anything. There weren’t that many people now. The train was reaching the end of the line soon. Plenty of seats were empty and people were shifting to sit further apart as the space was freed up.

Point was, there really was no reason to be closer.

“Ah, sorry. There just isn’t that much space, you know?” Cocked eyebrow. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Yoonji gritted her teeth.

She didn’t know if she wanted to slap that smirk off that face or make out with it.

“I have to get off at the next stop,” Yoonji stated as matter-of-factly as she could. Tch. This wasn’t increasing her blood pressure in a good way. No. This wasn’t what she imagined at all. Yeah, of course people were different than daydreams. The other woman didn’t respond. She just smiled. Knowingly. Yoonji didn’t have a type. Nope. She also wasn’t scared of her either, no matter how hot, no matter how seductive, no matter how many positions Yoonji was putting them in her head right now.

The train slowed down.

That head of tousled hair tilted to the right exit behind her.

“Well, of you go, then,” she said with a resigned sigh and inviting smile.

The announcement overhead crackled. The train began to slow. A couple people stood up, getting ready to leave, accounting for their belongings with them. Headphones on, or immersed in conversation with their travel partners.

Yoonji growled under her breath, grabbed Jungkook’s definitely-not girlfriend’s free hand, and dragged them through the open doors and onto the platform.

-

Yeah, um.

She hadn’t thought this though.

“What was your grand master plan, Romeo?” came the amused, husky tone from behind her.

They were standing at the train platform, with Yoonji’s right hand in her crush’s right hand, wait, no, that wasn’t what I meant, and then she stiffened up when she felt spiced perfume and leather brush up against her back. Yoonji clutched her tote bag with her left hand, spinning around quickly, immediately locking eyes with a mischievous expression. Scorched eyes and berry-stained lips. She twisted her gaze away, trying to let go of that hand, but her fingers got caught in the other woman’s rings and a hand wrapped around her wrist.

“Don’t freak out.”

Don’t freak out?! She bristled but all the woman did was unlock their fingers and push down her silver rings. “You know Romeo and Juliet die at the end of the story, right?” Yoonji snapped to that nonchalant hand, not making eye contact.

“Yeah.” A wispy chuckle. “They’re also sixteen and thirteen, but something tells me you’re way past that. It doesn’t apply, but it did get a cute reaction out of you.”

She glared. Jungkook’s lady friend gave her a cheeky grin.

“You’re rude.”

Was it her imagination or was the tip of a pink tongue tracing that smirk?

“I can be a lot more than that, so consider yourself lucky.”

Either it was very warm in the train station or Yoonji was getting red in the face. She was about to turn her heel but then this lunatic spun around and began sauntering off the opposite direction. For fuck’s sake, what the hell? Before she could think about it too much, Yoonji crossed the distance with her long legs and snatched a handful of that leather sleeve, dragging the woman with her.

“Oh!”

“You don’t even know where you’re going,” Yoonji muttered with gritted teeth.

“Sure I do.” That relaxed tone was beginning to aggravate. “Your scary face is telling me you don’t want me to bother you.”

“My face is not scary.”

“Oh yeah? Then look at me in the eyes, then.”

This annoying–! They had arrived at the escalator. Yoonji let go of her hand and spun around with one smooth motion, checking if her unpredictable travel companion behind her was about to run off again. Her eyes widened when she realized they were nearly colliding. They were occupying adjacent steps. Due to the platform boots versus Yoonji’s sneakers, the other woman was taller. It wasn’t much of a difference, and then the steps of the escalator became more evident, creating a greater height disparity so now Yoonji was looking up into those piercingly dark orbs. She froze, unsure how to react.

A slow smile formed on those full lips.

“You’re not scary. I just wanted you to look at me.”

Irritation flared. Yoonji narrowed her eyes. But before she could spit out her distaste, the other woman spoke again.

“What?  Are you mad that I think you’re pretty?”

Fuck.

She couldn’t maintain eye contact any longer. Her face was burning. I can’t do this. Yoonji quickly turned around, using the excuse of stepping off the escalator to keep her eyes forward, hurrying quickly, not sure if the woman was following or not. It was obvious that she was out of her element. Out of her league, shit. She was playing ball while her opponent had trapped her in a pinball machine, Yoonji being the target, knocked this way and that with whatever obstacle that came out of her mouth, how could such ridiculous statements fluster me that much, and she was aware that she was annoyed yet also unable to stop thinking about that face, those words, and how their closeness had made her heart race just like how her body reacted around a hot guy.

Which was stupid.

So stupid.

“Ah, wait, let me make a stop here.”

Yoonji almost yelped, suddenly yanked by her hoodie sleeve into a small convenience store. She faintly registered that Jungkook’s – oh, for fuck’s sake, her, um, never mind, the woman was picking something up from a far aisle and hurrying to the counter. Paying for the item in a flash and politely refusing a bag while looking like a damn delinquent that could star in a porn movie. What? Yoonji shook her head furiously and was pulled out back out to the train station, right before the entrance to the street, which was how they ended up standing in front of a bookstore closed for the day.

One woman tore open a package of lemon-flavored gummies and the other clutched her tote bag, white as a sheet of paper.

“Want one?”

Yoonji only stared at her.

“Mm. I’ll save some just in case.”

How is this even happening?

“Are you a kid?” Yoonji sighed, feeling annoyed at herself more than anything.

“Are you an adult?” was the chirp back, complete with the same condescending tone.

She shot her an indignant look. The woman raised her eyebrows and popped another bright yellow gummy into her mouth. She was about to snap, of course, I am, but then her witty comeback was interrupted for possibly the nth time that night.

“’Cause, ya know, most adults wouldn’t do what you just did with me.”

Actually, night was better in this case. “Don’t make this weird,” Yoonji mumbled, looking away again.

“Who cares?”

She jerked her head away and stared at the black sky, wondering how she was losing her cool this fucking fast. How could someone be this smart-mouthed, this devil-may-care, this freaking annoying? It was like hanging out with an extra cunning, female version of Jeon Jungkook. It was driving her absolutely bananas on how to feel. Who cares? Hmph, so irresponsi–

Oh.

Oh my god.

“So, what’s the plan, kidnapper?”

Yoonji grumbled. “I’m not kidnapping you.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to being tied up.”

What the fuck? “Don’t tempt me.”

“Why not?”

“Look, are you drunk or something?” Yoonji scowled, gripping her tote tightly and sneaking a side-glance. “You’re just saying whatever you want.”

She was bouncing on her heels, enjoying her sour sweets. “That would be convenient for you, huh, if I was drunk,” she hummed.

“So you’re simply weird.”

A half-smile. “Better weird than putting up a front.”

A short pause. Her anger dissipated a bit. What am I doing? This isn’t like me at all. She sighed, somewhat defeated. Yoonji pondered how she got swept up like this. I don’t like her. But she did. Shit. How did all her buttons get pressed so fast and with such playful aggression? Damnnit.

“For the record, I don’t drink that much. And especially not when I’m walking alone in places. That would be stupid. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had a drink in a couple years now.”

Yoonji didn’t know if she appreciated the clarification or not. “And why’s that?”

No answer.

She turned her head and was given a pointed, disbelieving look.

“Come on. If I’m this irritating now, imagine me drunk?” Cock of the head. “You’d be on the floor.”

In what way? She didn’t respond to that. Yoonji could tell when she was getting provoked. “I’ll call you a taxi.”

A snort. Classy. “I can call myself a taxi.”

“I don’t trust you to get in it,” Yoonji countered, frowning.

“You don’t trust me at all.”

“That’s not true. I trust you to be a smartass.”

A sly grin at her deadpan words. Those scorched eyes glimmered from the low light of streetlamps. “How about this, then?” She folded the little packet of lemon gummies and tucked it into one of the many pockets of her leather jacket. “Let’s go somewhere together. Chill. Have some conversation. I feel like we are grossly misunderstanding each other. I don’t want us stuck like this. And then I’ll go home and pretend to be the good girl you want me to be.”  

You’re the one causing all the trouble. No. She sighed again, realizing it came out a bit shaky. This whole situation was giving all gas, no brakes, and Yoonji didn’t know why she was considering getting on this ride. What was she supposed to do? What was right? And then there was the way she was being spoken to, Argh.

“Too scared, huh?”

Yoonji glared. “Don’t try anything.”

A deep exhale. The other woman shook her head solemnly. “Hah, what are you thinking I would do?”

-

Min Yoonji concluded that she must be the stupidest person on the planet.

It was late, which was precisely why it wasn’t too busy at this hour. It was surely busier on the other side, considering late-night salarymen and odd-hours workers were getting off their shift. But on this side, the women’s side, well, there really wasn’t anybody at all. There were a few small groups of two or three women, crowded in their semi-private spots, but a lot of open space in the warm, medicinal pools of the public bath.

Yes, that was right.

Yoonji was in a public bath with Jungkook’s lover.

Fuck, she was stupid as all hell.

She sat in the bath with a towel wrapped tightly around her body and tried not to stare. A smaller towel was wrapped around her head with a bun twist at the sides. Yeah, sure, Yoonji didn’t have to get fully naked, but it wasn’t like she brought a set of extra clothes with her. Neither had her companion, of course, so renting towels was a must. That was fine. Everything was fine. Her face was ten thousand degrees. So was the bath. Everything was fine.

As soon as the towel had gotten wet, Yoonji had gotten a pretty good look at that womanly waist-to-ass ratio. Plus those perky tits. Slim, pretty shoulders. Pretty obvious why Jeon Jungkook was coo-coo for those delicious curves. The other woman had opted to tie her hair up instead, not wanting it to get wet, oblivious to the few strands that brushed sexily against the nape of her neck.

“Nice legs,” she had commented, keeping her voice low.

Yoonji sank further into the cloudy medicinal bath. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

The faintest of smiles. “You aren’t good at following your own advice, are you?”

She couldn’t believe that she had gotten cornered into this. She also couldn’t believe that she was acting like a teenager caught with dirty magazines. She also couldn’t believe that her eyes weren’t deceiving her and there wasn’t a monster under those clothes but an actual hottie who damn well knew it. Just her luck. Not that it mattered, considering Yoonji had apparently forgone all logic. Hmph. She could be like that too.

Not right now, obviously. Wrong situation.

“I haven’t visited a public bathhouse in a long time,” that husky voice mused.

“I used to come with my family,” Yoonji replied distractedly. “But it’s been a while for me too.”

“It’s kind of nice.”

She floated a bit, her shoulders still above water, clavicles glistening with dew. In contrast, Yoonji was neck-deep, soaking like a boiled dumpling.

“Don’t have a group a girl friends to go with?”

Yoonji frowned. Sighed. “No, not really. You’ve seen my friends. I’m sure they’ve gone without me,” she added, flicking her eyes to wandering ones. “You?”

A light scoff. “I don’t have people I’m close with.” A quick, fleeting glance. “Unless it’s in bed.”

Crass but honest. This time, though, didn’t seem like those words were said to catch her off guard. She accepted the moment of mercy. “Why is that?”

“Because everyone loves the idea of trying to tame the outcast.”

The steam was nearly as heavy as the silence.

“Being lonely doesn’t make you cool,” Yoonji quietly murmured, watching the ripples in the water.

“Not trying to be cool. Just trying to survive like the rest of us.”

The heat was almost as soothing as her tone, but her words held the weight of a past full of nightmares. They stayed quiet. Eventually, both of them floated to the edge of the pool. Maybe it was an outcast thing. Yoonji thought to offer some consolation, but she didn’t know the words nor what the other woman had been through.

“You haven’t had it easy, huh?” she mumbled to the milky liquid.

“Heh. Has anyone?”

She soaked for a few minutes. Ripples fanning out. Such a small thing becoming so large. She was vaguely aware of arms resting against the side of the bath.

“You strike me as a lone wolf yourself.”

Yoonji shifted her eyes to see a poised hand millimeters above her barely-covered shoulder. She looked away again. “I’m not. I don’t need many friends, but I need the ones I have.”

“I don’t think you’ve always felt like that.”

Damn. She wasn’t surprised anymore though. “Hah… You’re right.”

A wispy chuckle. “What made you change your mind?”

She thought about it. “Before I knew it… I had begun to rely on them. I’m close to my older brother, but my parents… and then my brother went off to university. Started working long hours in a high-class hotel restaurant. I was just the daughter that fiddled with guitars. My parents paid for my music lessons, starting with piano and then whatever instrument I wanted to learn, but I don’t have anything interesting to show for it. And, anyway, you know how it is. I can’t blame my brother for being a son. It was probably because of his support for me that my parents paid for my music degree.”

“Or because you’re good.”

“Even if I am,” Yoonji exhaled, blowing ripples in front of her. “I wouldn’t enjoy standing out.” She ruminated on that a bit. “With the emotional distance between my parents and the physical distance between my brother… I chased a lot of dead ends. Didn’t know where I was headed or where I wanted to go. I don’t know why those guys… Don’t know why they bothered with such a mess.”

“Probably because of your cute face.”

Yoonji scowled and flicked water next to her.

An unbothered laugh. “Maybe they saw something in you.”

Can’t imagine what. “Through school, shared hobbies, friends of friends.” She thought of each of them. It had happened organically, beginning with Kim Namjoon during university, bonding over books and music. “We just ended up like this.”

“Mhm, that’s usually my explanation too when I wake up the next morning.”

A muscle in Yoonji’s eyelid twitched. The implication was obvious. “Is that all people are to you?”

“That’s all people want me to be.”

She said it so casually, so calmly, that those words didn’t seem to hold the gravity that they should. The steam around them curled and snaked in the air. Several women were leaving now, chattering away with their gossip. The whole situation felt surreal.

“You don’t mean that,” Yoonji finally said.

A sigh.

“Sometimes I believe that’s all I am too.”

They listened to people pad away to the sauna. Someone in the corner was getting a thorough back scrubbing. Yoonji snuck a glimpse of a meditative profile. Glistening cheekbones, lips, clavicles. The top of the towel was saturated and stuck to softly rounded mounds that skimmed the surface of the water. She tried not to look for too long. The prominent peaks were noticeable and tempting.

She understood why Jungkook was so attached now.

What?

“Don’t feel bad for me.”

Somehow, Yoonji had sunk nearly chin-deep into the water. “What?�� she mumbled. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a delicate hand plant onto the crown of her toweled head. Five points of contact. She clutched her body towel in a death grip, as if it was going to be ripped off her.

“I said, don’t feel bad for me,” chuckled the teasing voice beside her. “Getting all emotional?”

She was about to shake off the hand forcefully but it moved away just as quickly as it came.

“I don’t feel bad for you,” Yoonji muttered.

She regretted saying it when she did, and yet it was too late to take it back. Long, agonizing seconds ticked by along with ripples of moving water. She wanted to reach out somehow, but it wasn’t possible to do so. They weren’t that close. She was Jungkook’s, well, his in general. And Yoonji felt the way she did, which was complicated altogether.

The silence was broken by softness.

“You just feel something you can’t quite explain.”

Slowly, Yoonji turned her head.

Curled, damp strands of hair clung to an undefinable expression, framing burned eyes and a not-quite smile that seemed more like a hint than an actual answer. Yoonji was neck-deep in hot water and half-crouching at this depth. Her hands were twisted around themselves. She carefully pulled them apart, looking away, then back, heart racing. The bath was opaque with medicinal salts and herbs. She had to feel her way forward, feeling more confident as she waited for her companion to react.

And then.

There was nothing but water.

“Let me get out first.” There was a slosh of water and Yoonji backed up instinctively, seeing the other woman slink upwards, standing to step out. She quickly jerked her line of vision away from wet towel plastered to prominent curves. “I can endure the embarrassment, heh.” She did not sound even an iota of embarrassed.

Her cheeks flared hot. Yoonji kept her eyes firmly on the water. “I’ll… I’ll finish up and follow in a minute.”

“Take your time.”

Light, drippy steps faded away, leaving Yoonji alone, sinking into the water with only her eyes showing, terrified someone could somehow tell she was red-hot from seeing an almost naked woman. Not just any woman. Fuck. She closed her eyes, screaming in her head. Why does it have to be her? Eight billion people and counting on this planet and this had to happen.

That’s all people want me to be.

Yoonji really didn’t like how that sounded.

Don’t feel bad for me.

This dumpling boiled for a little longer until her redness could be explained away by the heat.

Eventually, she got out and padded off to the locker room too, both startled and relieved that she was alone. She dried off and got dressed, thinking about the undertones of those statements. If she had been a liar, Yoonji would have assured with, no, not to Jeon Jungkook, but that idiot’s actions were the complete opposite. Yes, Yoonji knew otherwise because she had known him for such a long time – but did she, though? How well did she know him, really? She paused, holding her hoodie. She hadn’t been talking to him lately, trying to avoid giving herself away.

The memory of his Instagram post lingered in the back of her mind.

And then the image of those scorched eyes surrounded by steam.

Yoonji pulled her hoodie over her head. She couldn’t pretend to ignore the trees in front of her even though she hadn’t seen the whole forest yet. She looped her hand over the handle of her canvas tote bag. Gathered the rented bath house items, preparing to return them. Jeon Jungkook. The nightmarish woman of her dreams. These complicated feelings she both didn’t recognize and knew all too well. First and foremost, she was a friend. She would not betray that.

She couldn’t bear that.

It took a moment to pay for the rented items and then Yoonji found herself in the waiting room at the front. Sitting at the bench was none other than the one of leather and silver, her spiced perfume faint and replaced with the sweet herbal scent of the bath. She stood up as Yoonji entered, tucking her arms into the sleeves of the jacket and flipping out her hair from the collar. The sides of the oversized jacket flapped open. The lights of the bath house were dimmed for an ethereal glow, and it was just enough light to spot the jutting peaks of large nipples against that tight black top.

Before she could stop herself, Yoonji raced forward in her sneakers and snatched the sides of the jacket, yanking them shut over that chest.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, gripping the leather between white-knuckles fingers. “Are you crazy?”

“Hm?”

Yoonji froze.

She gripped the jacket closed, not looking up. Couldn’t.

“What’s with you?”

Confusion above her. How does she not know? “Weren’t… Weren’t you wearing a bra?” Yoonji tried to ask as calmly as she could, hands shaking as they slipped down to the bottom of the placket where the zipper head was. She prayed the fabric was thick enough so the other woman couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, I put it in this bag the bath house gave me.” There was a rustle and Yoonji perceived a brown paper bag held up in her periphery. She fumbled with the zipper, letting out a puff of air to appear as annoyed as possible. “But all I’m gonna do is go home and go to sleep. What’s the point of putting it back on for twenty minutes?”

“You…”

“I called for a taxi already, by the way. I wanted to wait for you to finish, though. Want me to get one for you too?”

“No,” Yoonji blurted out a little too fast. She cleared her throat and busied herself with zipping up the jacket. “My place is close to here.”

“I can walk you there. Change the address of the taxi.”

She clicked her tongue. “I’ve walked home alone for years. Don’t flatter yourself.”

All of a sudden, a hand caught one of hers in the middle of retreating from the zipper.

Fingers wrapped around hers tightly.

She snapped her head up and became the closest she had ever been to kissing another woman.

They stared at each other for seconds that felt like hours. The hand was warm with slim and elegant fingers, similar to Yoonji’s own. She felt searched. Exposed. Her hair was a little damp from the bath so Yoonji had pulled the hood up to cover it. They were so close she could see the edges of her bangs curl towards those dark eyes. With a start, she realized that meant that the other woman was bent down ever-so-slightly due to their current height difference.

Silence.

She could have said so many things but Yoonji watched her hold her tongue.

For some incomprehensible reason…

The silence made Yoonji’s heart ache.

A small, pleasant smile. She didn’t say anything still. Instead, she took a step back and let go of Yoonji’s hand, letting her gaze stay only a second longer, and then those scorched eyes slipped away, disappearing behind waves of wild hair, out the door and into the street where headlights waited.

Yoonji watched the taxi purr away into the night.

She walked home, one of her hands pressed to her racing heart, a lasting tingle radiating from her fingers.

-

She couldn’t take it.

She should, and she would. But she couldn’t take it, knowing they shared moments that existed only for them. She told herself she would get over it, but some part of her didn’t want to get over it. Some twisted, masochistic part.

Min Yoonji sat in front of her computer and keyboard in the dead of night and composed a song.

She needed something to occupy all of her mind. Or something to explain it all, this strange high and down low all at once. Her sound could never be called overly optimistic, but she tried a bit of a higher key this time, with brighter, chirpy samples to go alongside her keyboard. She just sang words into the mic that came to mind, not really thinking too much about what it meant or why.

It was one of those jumbled tracks that she probably wouldn’t listen back to in a long time, but something in her needed to make it.

She fell asleep in her chair with her headphones still on and her head nestled on her hoodie arms.

She told herself to get over it.

Don’t feel bad for me.

In her dreams, Yoonji wasn’t guilty.

In her dreams, she could watch them. She knew how Jeon Jungkook was around the person he liked. He seemed all tough and cocky, but there was no way he could be. Not to such powerful femininity, and certainly not to kind eyes that had obviously been burned so many times. Jungkook was playful. Gentle. So obviously trapped but acted like he wasn’t.

I could have been you.

Not really.

Could have.

She was lost in her dreams.

Black nail polish with red glitter. Deft fingers gliding over his chest. Fingers tracing his tattooed shoulder, followed by soft, full lips that made no sound. Hands that traced his body, framing him like art as lips brushed against his ear. Whispers of things unsaid. Barely visible under messy hair – dark, scorched eyes shadowed by lashes and lust. Fascination at quickened breath falling from parted lips adorned with a small mole underneath them, right at the center. She continued to watch, transfixed at how they moved like water, seamless and in unison, twisting their bodies to face each other. Lips hovering over lips. Bare shoulders, bare waists, legs over the other, the hand cradling Jungkook’s face elegant, possessive, holding him in place as that wet, pink tongue extended, tracing his open mouth with the tip, teasing him, making him moan softly.

She blinked slowly.

Now it was her holding Jungkook’s face, staring into his lidded eyes.

She tilted her head, leaning in.

Yoonji shot up from her desk, gasping, overturning her lyric notepad and sending it flapping to the floor, along with her pen catapulting across her bedroom. Her muscles screamed in discomfort, cramped from the hunched position, and Yoonji winced, placing a palm on her chest and sensing the layer of uncomfortable sweat that had suddenly appeared.

Her heart ricocheted in her ribcage.

Her face burned. She tried to take in several breaths, pulling her hand away from herself. Slowly. Carefully, as if denying such physical reactions. She spotted the picture frame on her desk. Her and her friends standing next to each other, ages ago. A visit to a ski resort. Jungkook was standing next to her, flashing a peace sign and a toothy smile.

His arm was around her shoulders.

Bundled up, she looked a mix between disgruntled and pleased.

I have to do something or I’m gonna lose it.

Yoonji got up from her desk and flopped face down onto her bed, hoping for a dreamless sleep.

-

ep 4. hey, you alright? sugar, spice, and everything nice

--

min yoonji masterpost | masterpost

[crime-wives]

ouat 1x01 thoughts

god regina, you dramatic bitch. “I shall destroy your happiness if it is the last thing I do” ok darling, you can destroy me if you’d like

henry is so small, his tiny cheeks awww

not to be gay but… emma swan in the pink dress. fuck. i forgot how attracted to her i was. and the HAIR, the fucking princess curls. jesus christ her ARMS.

“bail bonds-person” i love her

yesss bitch, strut across the street like you own it. absolute icon behavior, slamming that asshole’s face into the steering wheel.

babe you’re so sad and pathetic with your vanilla cupcake. i bet she wished for family.

not her apartment door saying ‘cast a spell’

“My name’s Henry, and i’m your son” agevgsvegw STOP

her having a panic attack in the bathroom, so real.

once again, her ARMS, i want her so bad

henry’s cute little freckles, i can’t do this.

idgaf abt snow and charming “She poisoned an apple because she thought I was prettier than her” shut up bitch, you know that’s not why

“Oh kid, you’ve got problems” emma swan, insulting children since 1983

ok but the fact that they chose the name ‘emma’ in a fairytale world, lmao

evil queen theme song playing as they enter storybrooke

emma swan wearing the most dyke outfit possible. getting ready to impress milfs

not that there’s any significance, but emma’s license plate is: 836•M4X

snow and charming are so annoying istg

ewww the blue fairy, i hate that bitch (derogatory)

regina running towards henry and wrapping him up in a hug. her eyes are wet. good lord, her first reaction is concern and worry, not anger.

“I found my real mom” my HEART. her face after he said that, so stricken and hurt, baby…

emma’s little flustered, ‘hi’ when talking to a gorgeous milf. ok babe, we get it, you’re gay.

graham leaving bc of emma and regina’s immediate sexual tension. and regina’s eyes roving over emma.

first ‘Miss Swan’ of the show at exactly 21:00 minutes.

emma swan is so desperate to impress regina. it’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic (affectionate)

“Sneaky bastard” once again, emma swan insulting children since 1983

crashing into the storybrooke sign like the absolute icon she is

the cgi 💀💀

yay!! curse time :)

emma waking up in a jail cell. she just does not give a fuck about this shit.

her lips parting when she she’s regina, ok babe, she’s hot we get it

LIP SCAR

god mary-margaret pisses me off

go regina, knock over mary-margaret’s shit, absolute queen

“She’s kinda a hardass” yes but that turns you on, doesn’t it?

gina’s so hot when she’s evil

putting a newborn through the wardrobe to save themselves, a+ parenting

henry mills, once again, the most mature one in a situation “You don’t have to be hostile. You like me, I can tell. You’re just pushing me away because I make you feel guilty.”

“I wanted you to have your best chance. But it’s not with me. C’mon, let’s go.” go emma! be the mature adult i know you can be

petition to get emma swan a therapist so she can deal with all her issues (trust me, she’s got a lot of them)

“Look, your mom is trying her best. I know it’s hard, and I know sometimes you think she doesn’t love you, but at least she wants you.” emma swan, standing up for regina mills since the moment they met

mmm regina’s voice is so hot.

her unhinged laughter, i love her so much

“Where are we going?” “Somewhere horrible, absolutely horrible” takes them to maine

emma swan is so fucking desperate for regina’s approval. she wished to not be alone on her birthday, baby…

second ‘Miss Swan’ of the show at 38:43 (i will be keeping count of all of them :D)

regina fidgeting with her blazer pockets, she’s so anxious

first “He’s my son” at 39:01 minutes

“I will destroy you if it is the last thing I do” babe, it’s kinda gay to have a nemesis, just saying

third ‘Miss Swan’ of the show at 39:32

baby… gina is coming apart at the seems

god, not to be gay, but regina’s HANDS at 40:27 agevvegse

emma’s only staying because of regina’s provocations. she wouldn’t have stayed for henry.

gold is so icky.

she’s staying a *only* a week, sure babe, sure.

also side note, i forgot how good the coloring was in ouat. like its very faded, maybe indicative of storybrooke being stuck in the past???

[respectthepetty]

Following your last post. Are you able to summarise or explain why you love Taiwan BL so much?

I ask because I too love Taiwanese BLs but……I can’t pin point why. Is it because the first ones I watched was top tier?! (Loooking at you fighting Mr2nd and History4) or is there a different frame work that draws us in?

I don’t know and can’t seem to explain it so I has rushed here after your post and express my need for you to someone explain or put into words, WHY WE LOVE TAIWANESE GAYS?!?

Anon, I've listed a few times why I love Taiwanese BLs (like here and here), but I love them soooooo much, I will gladly do it again!

Strangely enough, I have an ask sitting patiently in my inbox requesting I rank the HIStory franchise, but since I love Taiwanese BLs, it's hard for me to pick between my favorites, which I had to do for Taiwanese BLs in general when I was asked to rank my top five. However, HIStory 4: Close to You rules above ALL BLs regardless of country. I love it! It is the best. I will fight people and their pets for it.

But you know I cannot keep things short, so . . .

10 Reasons I Love Taiwanese BLs

*presented in no particular order*

The shows are visually pleasing.

The cinematography especially the color editing and the lighting are good quality. As a color demon, I've noticed the emphasis on colors even in Taiwanese non-BL series I've watched. I'm superficial. They're pretty!

The men are visually pleasing.

Beyond the production aesthetics, the actors themselves are easy on the eyes. Every single main character is unexpectedly hiding a body-ody-ody under his clothes which he reveals in the most natural ways. The camera doesn't linger on the body. The bodies are just bodies. But they are oh-so-very pretty bodies.

The attraction is obvious.

Taiwanese BLs are high heat. The characters will flirt. They will stare longingly at each other. They will playfully touch each other. They will have sex. The characters want each other, physically, and we see that. And it won't be saved until the final episode. The attraction develops in a way that feels natural, and if there is hesitation regarding sex, once they figure out the mechanics, the characters embody the "practice makes perfect" motto.

The beds are used.

Domesticity is at the core of a Taiwanese BL. We see characters cooking in kitchens, often. We see them sleeping in beds without sex being involved. An entire scene can be focused around the characters doing household chores such as laundry, washing dishes, or mopping. The characters are building a home together as partners, and we constantly see that.

The families are caring.

For every shitty family member, there are three others who are determined to win a PFLAG award. We see characters' siblings, parents, and found family members being supportive of their relationship and fighting other family members who step out of line.

The secondary pairs deliver.

When the story isn't focusing on the main couple, I still care about the second (and sometimes third) pair. Their stories might not always be fully fleshed out, but they don't distract from the main couple nor make me want to skip over their parts. The secondary couples are also involved in the stories outside of their romance. They are connected to the overall story and help to push the narrative forward.

The couples are queer.

This seems like a given since we are dealing with BLs, but Taiwan has delivered very few high school and university BLs, and even when it does, they aren't presented as a coming-of-age story. Characters already know they are queer, or if they realize it, they don't panic. For example, in About Youth, both characters confessed they hadn't kissed anyone before, but it wasn't depicted as an "ah-I'm-gay" moment. Even in DNA Says Love You, the reveal wasn't cause for a crisis; it was a moment of relief. In my fave, HIStory 4, the main character realized he liked his friend, sat on that revelation, then licked his friend's mouth and told him he loved him. Very pro kissing-the-homies.

The couples are adults.

Because Taiwan hasn't produced many high school and university BLs, a majority of its shows are focused on adults, with jobs, and families, and baggage. As mentioned above, the main conflict is never a character understanding his queerness. It's usually him trying to balance his relationship with all the other issues life brings him like a work deadline, the mafia, or ghosts. You know, adult issues.

The couples are enemies-to-lovers, lite.

My favorite kind of couple dynamic is "I'll kill (for) him" and Taiwan knows how to deliver this. Even when couples move past the enemies stage, there are moments when they look at each other as if they could kill each other, and that warms my heart. The couples argue. They fight. They plot each other's murders. Then they eat dinner together and hold each other in bed. Love isn't all rainbows and sunshine in these BLs, and Taiwan shows that it's not just about who will fight with you, but who will fight for you that matters.

The country has marriage equality!

I'm going to get political - I don't even believe in the institution of marriage, but I'll throw hands for everyone's right to marriage equality. People deserve the right to get married, and Taiwan granted its people that right in 2019; then, this year, it made it legal for same-sex couples to jointly adopt a child. Taiwan has a tension-filled relationship with China due to disputes about Taiwan's independence, and we all know how China censors the homos. Therefore, I love Taiwanese BLs flexing its gay rights muscle all of the time. Other countries are fighting the good fight for their rights, but if it came down to my last little international dollar, I want to support the countries that support us and not those that are profiting off our community without investing in our community members' rights. So at the end of the day . . .

I love whatever Taiwan gives me.

So these are the reasons I know Kiseki: Dear to Me will be one of my favorites.

The show and the men are visually pleasing. It is giving us queer adult couples stacked on top of other queer adult couples then cameos of even more queer adult couples. We've gotten enemies-to-friendly roommates, where the attraction is obvious, so now we must wait for the lovers part even though they had already cooked, cleaned, and slept in the bed by the second episode. When we meet the families of these crazy little bastards, we are going to love them.

Oh, and there will be a proposal.

TAIWAN SUPREMACY!

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

I saw that your requests were open so I was wondering if you could do Asahi x reader? Maybe relationship headcannons? You can have creative liberty with everything else though.

Thank you ^^

ofc Anon, happy to help ya out! This is my first time writing for Asahi, but honestly it should be pretty easy, because I’m an asahi Kinnie. Love y’all sm, if you liked this, make sure to like, follow, and if you curios, just ask

warnings: Swearing, crack, fluff? Mentions of vagina? Has one section implying a AFAB reader, but is only one paragraph. If you aren’t a pussy owner, pretend it’s a papercut it literally the same results. I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible.

status: edited, but at like 3am so read at your own risk

💜Asahi Azumane💜

💜Boyfriend Headcannons💜

First things first, Man is so freaking shy. Like goodness, he wouldn’t be able to talk to you when he has a crush on you. So, if you want results, you have to A) Be confident, and B) be in a place he’s comfortable interacting in. Like at volleyball practice (Gia- Joden shut your ass up, your AsaNoya is showing.) So, for this let’s just imagine you’re a second year, helping Kiyoko manage the team. Yeah that sounds a lil familiar but shhhhhhhhh, let me have this.

Once we get over the hurdle of him actually asking you out (AKA Tanaka bullying him into doing with some, if you don’t do it, I will,) Be gotta be the biggest sweetie ever. Like I’m used to writing for assholes, but I physically cannot with this man, this pure sweet chipotle bowl of a man. The most shit I can say is that he’s a pussy.

Please. For the love of God (Gia- You called?) Play with his hair. He will literally melt like butter into a blushy slushy mess it’s so freaking adorable.

The literal epitome of pit bull energy. Like so freaking terrifying on the outside but inside? Literally the softest thing since Japanese pancakes. And because of this, mfs be terrified to talk to you. Like even if he’s so polite, things don’t change. What he says- “Hi, I’m sure you didn’t know, but that’s my partner , and it looks like you’re making them very uncomfortable, could you please leave them alone.? Thank you! 🌸☺️🌸” What people hear- “Aye yo, what ya doing with my girl buddy? You tryna start something, I’ll fucking kick your ass *insert Tanaka face*”. Yeah, it’s a common occurrence for people to tell you to blink twice if you need help.

Even though he’s canonically not planning on going to college, he’s still above average in school work. Not really in terms of analysis and problem solving, so his best subjects are stuff he can just memorize like science or History. If you happen to be weak in either of those, he would be more than happy to help after practice or during weekends. He’s super patient with you and often suggests snack breaks and other things whenever it gets to much. (Because of that he’s also really good at helping you through panic attacks, more on that if I do a part 2.)

In terms of cringe, the cringiest thing y’all do would be like seriously basic couples costumes. And I ain’t talking joker and Harley Quinn type bs (that fr can be cute sometimes,) I’m talking moth and lamp type shit. I know it’s probably adorable to some of yall but it gives me the serious ick.

Speaking of the Ick, man uses the most horrendous nicknames unironocally. He doesn’t do it all the time (especially after Tanaka nearly pissed himself after hearing him trying to be tender.) like I can just hear him saying, “Hey muffin, can you grab my bag from the club room? I have to help clean up.” (Gia- joden ewwwwww stop it that’s literally so gross.)

reads you the Bible

Yall know that one comic where it’s like killer croc and his girlfriend walking around and she tells him how much she loves him and how safe he makes her feel? Yeah that’s literally yall and it’s so precious. Like just imagine walking anywhere and everywhere holding pinkies (my gay lol heart is melting) while he’s just being a blushy mess.

Noya is the main wingman, but still doesn’t know on how how you got together. His idea of friendly advice is, “QUICK BEING W PUSS AND ASK THEM OUT LIKE A MAN ASAHI😤.”

Regardless of if you are a titty owner or not, please don’t take your shirt off around him, he will literally malfunction.He will literally have an aneurysm. Like mans nosebleeds will rock him like a rocket. Like man will be in the morgue from blood loss. And we still need this man for cuddles, so no. Kill the spike not your boyfriend, can i get an amen 🙏?

He is the most precious fluffy boyfriend possible. Like he’s the sweetest of all beans. Like you could ask him to murder someone and he’lll just be like, “Yes Sweetie anything you say dear 🌸🥰🌸.” Kinda like Gojo in that one jjk scene (the I’ll murder you one)

he loves restaurant dates, but like don’t take him anywhere who only has spicy food. I love this man with all my might, but he is a serious pussy. Like my goodness has the gracious. And he won’t even say anything about it. My poor baby will just suffer in silence. So please don’t, he’s a poor baby.

This one’s for all my long hair honeys. One word. Hairties. Hairties Galore. He never has enough. And he always has them at the ready. But on the unlikely chance he doesn’t, he has no problem using your scrunchies during a game, and it’s seriously the softest marshmallow man move ever. I can not emphasize it enough.

ok this man if the favorite of all of his younger cousins. Like the little dudes love just climbing on them. He physically cannot say no to them. So, what’s something they force him to do? Watch Disney princess movies with them. He knows all their names trust. His top three definitely Jasmine, Belle and Cinderella, trust me on this.(Gia- fuck sukuna, Asahi x Cinderella for life lol) He gives the most insane Disney adult energy it’s insane. (Gia- joden, chill with the slander mate).

He is a living random fact generator. No I will not elaborate. He watches that kind of YouTube shorts. He’s so boring I swear to fuck.

(I had to Make Gia write this lol) This one is for all my pussy people. He gotta be the most worried individual on this side of the nuthouse whenever you’re bleeding. Like the second he hears your on the cycle it’s, “OMG ARE YOU OK, ARE YOU DYING? OMG MY GIRLFRIENDS DYING, HELP WE NEED TO GET YOU TO THE DOCTORS! PLEASE DONT DIE ON ME BABY! DO YOU NEED PADS, HEATING PADS, IBUPROFEN, CHOCOLATE!?ILL GET YOU THAT, THE VERY BEST BEST QUALITY-” please shut him tf up. He’s gonna have a panic attack, please calm him down,

for us non pussy personas, just imagine you got a paper-cut. He literally acts the same way.

For my final big thing, ima just give ya’ll little addicts exactly what yall came here for: Crack. (Also yes a changed some lyrics, I ain’t about to whitewash no characters)

Tanaka- EVERYBODY SAY SAUSAGE KEEP IT GOING, EGGS BACON GRITS

all- Sausage!

Noya- IMA SKINNY BITCH BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

Bokuto- GOT A FAT ASS BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

Oikawa- GOT A FLAT ASS BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

Y/N- WAKE UP IN THE MORNING GOTTA EAT THAT-

all- Sausage!

Hinata- IMA RED HEAD BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

*Literally everyone is gay in this show so I’m not including this verse*

Yachi- CUTE GIRL SWAG BUT ILL TAKE YOUR MANS

all- Sausage!

Asahi- hagsaggecgedhurdgiitg

all- Sausage!

Saiko- Big tits, and I’m thick so you know I take

all- Sausage!

Kuroo- Yeah I read but but they’re all about

All- Sausage! Sa-Sa-Sa-Sausage, Sausage

kiyoko- I like girls, can I still take sausage?

All- AYEEEEEEE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

bro I ain’t gon lie, I had so much fun writing this, but I’m sorry I took so long Anon, I love all of yall so much, but I also am smack in the middle of exam season, and you’re boy needs his degree. If y’all love this, then feel free to ask for more, it’s free, and like and follow me. Love y’all lil freaks,

Joden (edited by Gia)

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

An Ode to the Homoerotic Friendship

Sometimes I think she was my soulmate. Maybe soulmates are a myth, and she was just a person that I loved. But, no, she was more than that. She was the first person I ever fell in love with.

I loved her. I loved the way her knuckles bent over the bridge of her guitar when she led worship at church. I loved the way her glasses slid down her nose when we studied at the seminary library. I loved that she'd wake up at two in the morning and decide to make pancakes from a box of cake mix. Plug in her electric griddle in the hall of our dorm, sit on the floor, and flip pancakes onto paper towels. I loved that I always knew it was her, because why else would the dorm smell like pancakes in the middle of the night?

I loved that when I had panic attacks, she pulled me into her extra-long twin bed and held me until I calmed. "I'm right here, okay?" she'd say. "I love you. You're safe." She held me afterward, too. So often that three days of the week, I was sleeping in her bed, our bodies curled together. I had never been held before. Never had someone play with my hair like that before. Never woken up next to someone who was soft and warm, someone I loved, and felt her breath hot on my neck. But we were just friends. Or so we told ourselves. It was Christian college, and we were nothing if not devout. We were not allowed to be anything else.

I loved that when we watched movies, I could lay my head on her lap and she'd rest her arm on top of me. Just rest it there. I loved the weight of it, the gentle rhythm of her fingers running through my hair.

Most of all, I loved that she made me feel safe. That she didn’t take energy from me. With her, I could just be. In her senior year, when I was still a sophomore, she took a pottery class for an art credit, and she fell in love with it. She'd spend late nights in the campus studio, working on her art. She tried to teach me, but I hated the texture of clay. So every night after dinner, we'd make our way to the empty studio, and she would sit at the wheel, and I'd sit and write. We played worship music in the background, and we didn't speak for hours. It was beautiful, almost holy.

I often woke up next to her in the mornings, but one morning in particular lingers in my memory. We were alone, her roommate gone home for the weekend. The light streaming in through the sheer curtains was perfect, as beautiful as light through stained glass. It was quiet, early. I remember that she pressed her body into mine. She took my hand and placed it over her waist, so I could hold her closer. Then she buried her head under my chin, wrapping her own arm around me, and I felt lighter in spirit than I have ever felt in my life. It was unbelievable to me, unknown, unthinkable, that she wanted me touching her like that, so close, so intimate. I would never have thought to. It would not have crossed my mind. But here we were, and I could not explain why it felt so good. I could not bear to examine it. I felt the rise and fall of her chest, soft and steady as she slept. I ran my fingers through her hair, and I thought if I could wake up every morning like this, I’d start every day happy.

I never thought I was gay. I never thought that anything we were doing went beyond the bounds of friendship. And maybe it didn’t in the strictest sense. We didn’t have sex. I never even kissed her.

I thought about it just once. In her bed, a double now, at the apartment she moved into after graduating. The apartment I spent every weekend at after classes ended, where I had my own drawer in her bathroom and a quarter of her closet. She was upset about something; I don’t recall what. She’d been crying, and I held her, and I kissed her forehead. I told her that I was here and that everything was going to be okay. When she’d calmed, she apologized for getting snot on my shirt, and I said it was alright, I didn’t care. But she still looked so sad, so fragile, and it hurt everything in me. I wanted her to feel better, I wanted to do something to make her feel better. And for just a moment–just one, small moment–I imagined kissing her. I would kiss her softly, so softly. My fingers gentle against the skin of her face that I knew so well. I wanted to kiss her just to show her that I loved her. That I would take care of her. And for a just a moment I entertained it, tried to rationalize it as a “just friends” kiss. But deep down I knew there was no such thing. That it was more than that, and the thought scared me. So I banished it as quickly as it had come and settled for pulling her close.

When she started seeing the man, I was furious, inexplicably outraged. I nearly cried when she told me, voice giddy, about how he taught her to French kiss.

"What did you think would happen?" she demanded. "That we would never find husbands? That we would live together forever? Why can't you just be happy for me?"

My face was red and angry. I felt like crying. "I don't know," I admitted. Later, at home, hot, angry tears streaked down my face. I think I did know, then, why I was so angry, so hurt. But I was not willing to admit it to myself.

I was her maid of honor when they married. And after the wedding, when we all took photos, she asked for one with just me. She wrapped me in her arms and placed a kiss on my cheek. After the reception, I sat in my car in a hotel parking lot and wept. Because I knew, then. I finally knew. I thought I was scared that I would never find someone I loved enough to marry. But, no, that wasn't true. I was scared the only people I loved enough to marry were women.

I was three years into graduate school before I came out of the closet. I'd stay awake at night, wondering if I was going to hell. I'd look at myself in the mirror and practice saying it, "I'm a lesbian," and "I'm gay," as if I were reviving a dead language. She was married, had a child, and when I called to tell her, she said, "I still love you."

But it was an I love you in spite of... rather than a true I love you. "You can still honor God," she pleaded with me, when I told her I didn't really care if I went to hell. I was too relieved to be myself. "I'm not naturally attracted to men, either. But I love my husband!" I tried to explain that when I loved her in college, it hadn't been like a friend. That the things we did, we said, we felt, those were not the markers of friendship. They were markers of more. But she wasn't ready. And I was.

We don't speak anymore. Not for years now. I grew weary of the way she'd imply that I was living a life of sin. Weary of dredging up the Ancient Greek we'd spent so long learning at the library, debating the finer points of Koine translation to justify myself. Most of all, I grew weary of her indifference–when I'd get called a dyke on the street, when I'd get cornered at work by church members praying for my "freedom" from my lifestyle. She didn't care. She might even condone.

And there came a day where I knew that I could never make her be ready. And that I'd have to let her go, no matter how badly I wanted her to be ready, too.

Sometimes I see her on social media. Her and her husband and their children, at an Easter service or picnicking or throwing a birthday party. And I miss her. Or, rather, I miss who we used to be together. But there is no getting that back. And, truth be told, I am better for it.

I wonder if, twenty years from now, when her children are grown and her marriage stale and fractured, if she will finally, finally be ready. If I get a phone call, will I answer it? If she finally says, "When I loved you in college, it was not like a friend," will I want to hear? All I know is that I am not willing to wait to hear it.

I hope that when I get that call, I am old and happy and have a wife who knows the wrinkles of my face and the brand of toothpaste I like. I hope we still dance badly in the kitchen, that we laugh together, that when we go to sleep, we hold each other close, and it no longer feels illicit to me. I hope I love my wife so much that I have not thought of her in twenty years. So that when she calls, I say, "Oh, I'd forgotten." And the memory is just that: a memory.

[kiko-the-gay-writer]

-Karate Kid Incorrect quotes-

~~

Daniel , pointing: May I sit there?

Johnny : That's my lap

Daniel : That doesn't answer my question, Johnny.

-

Johnny : That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!

Tommy: To the city?

Johnny : Yeah, no matter what!

Jimmy: Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?

Johnny : I... I don't know!

Bobby: Oh come off it, be serious!

Johnny : I am serious!

Bobby: You're insane!

Dutch : Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!

Johnny : What???

Dutch : Or maybe it was a basset hound!

Bobby, panicked: YOU'RE ALL INSANE!

-

Daniel: I hardly slept last night

Ali: When you can’t sleep, it means someone is thinking about you. Someone who loves you.

Daniel: Who would be thinking about me at 3 a.m.?

Johnny: [gay panic]

-

Daniel: You have to apologize to them, Johnny

Johnny: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

-

Daniel: I think I'm falling for you.

Johnny: Then get up.

-

Johnny: Ali, can I talk to you for a second?

Ali: Yeah, what’s up? Lemme guess. You and Daniel are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss?

Johnny: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

-

Daniel: Chozen, my arch enemy.

Johnny: ... I thought I was your arch enemy?

Daniel: I have a life outside of you, Johnny.

-

*Daniel and Kumiko skipping stones on lake*

Kumiko: It’s such a beautiful evening.

Daniel, whispering: Take that you fucking lake

-

Ali: Is having a penis fun?

Johnny: It has its ups and downs.

Dutch : Sometimes it’s a little hard.

Tommy: It’s a pain in the ass.

Bobby: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.

-

Johnny: Looking left cause you don’t treat me right

Jimmy: Looking right because you left

Dutch : Looking up cause you let me down

Tommy: Looking down cause you fucked up

Bobby: What is wrong with you guys?

-

Daniel: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE

Johnny: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially

Daniel, desperately, as Johnny bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Johnny: Oh! B positive.

Daniel: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Johnny:

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

idk if you meant fic requests or art but could we get some NY/CA/NJ content for the hungry and small NY/CA/NJ shippers? (Maybe even some PA/MA or PA/MA/VA? ((all have an A in their abbreviation 👀))

👀👀👀

Why yes ofc I have some hc’s for them 👁️👁️

CA/NJ/NY:

Cali and NJ like to do that thing where they sneak up on NY and give him kisses on the cheeks from both sides >:D NY hatesloves them for it

NY likes to use the other twos’ laps as pillows when relaxing in the living room

I picture NJ to be more of a dog/puppy person, so imagine Cali and NY trying to convince him to let them get a cat/kitten. Safe to say, they got a cat in the end (thanks to Cali’s persuasion and NY’s puppy eyes)

They all love tracing and kissing each other’s scars, and NY ends up usually being the victim of it and gets so damn flustered (he has the most scars and gets so many damn kisses. A kiss for each one if you will.

NY and Cali both love reading aloud and the three will have nights where they’re all bundled up together and they’ll read aloud.

Cal is the only one that’s like- aware of his mental health, and he’ll often check in on the other two and let them vent if they need to. Both return the favor by getting him books and food :]

PA/MA/VA (that’s the order they cuddle in-[dies]:

Mass is the shortest one in their relationship, therefore he gets sandwiched between the two during cuddle sessions (but it’s fine cuz he gets to use his boyfriends’ titties as pillows- i mean what)

The other two are the only reason that PA actually started getting help for his problems and the reason he started drinking less

DON’T F*CKIN’ GET ME STARTED ON THE YEARS OF MUTUAL PINING OMG-

When Mass started dating the other two, he gained a new fondness for Gov. And in return, Ginny and (begrudgingly) PA gained a new fondness for NY. It’s kinda like when you start dating someone and they’re freaking out over your cute puppy instead of you (y’all even know what I’m talkin bout-).

The other two gay panic whenever they see Mass being playful with his brothers. They just think it’s adorable.

Ginny sometimes feels as though he has to make himself appear more masculine cuz he’s more on the feminine-looking side of men, but Mass and PA reassure him that they love him either way.

So uh- I hc Mass as transmasc and yes he got the surgery but he still has a bit of a chest. Is he kinda insecure about it? Yes. But does the fact that his boyfriends like using him as a pillow make it a bit better? 100% yes yes yes yes-

PA is both a tiny bit squishy and a tiny bit muscular, and he sometimes gets insecure about it. But his very loving boyfriends very lovingly remind him that they love him and that it just makes him better for cuddling :>

Feel free to send more requests! <3 And also feel free to use these hc’s in any fics y’all wanna write cuz I’d love to read it :D

[sourcreammachine]

fuck it, let’s die on this hill

FAIRYTALE OF NEW YORK IS THE ULTIMATE QUEER YULETIDE SONG

the straights have been getting increasingly uncomfortable with it in the last few years. you’re going to see a big resurgence of the censored version this year because Shane MacGowan died last week, but it has been well on the decline - meaning a wide open gulf is forming to allow the cheap, lousy faggots to swoop in and continue colonising it. here’s why we should

firstly it’s an absolute banger. traditional irish music combined with modern drums into a sound that fits the yule aesthetic perfectly whilst bringing drama and emotion. it’s cozied up by the fire, but alive and dramatic

the biggest source of discomfort for most people is that it’s MacGowan and MacColl aggressively arguing at each other, rattling off textbook sexist vitriol. and MacColl calls MacGowan a faggot, with total sincere usage of the slur, hatred and all. putting the slur aside, the nastiness of the song gets people’s ire. it’s a couple having a stereotypical domestic and they seem to kiss and make up in the final act, all unacceptable behaviour forgiven. it’s everything modern straights want to put in the past. so let them. it’s a het couple being toxic, cool. queer celebration has attached the bandwagon to worse things and it’s always taking up the castoffs of heteronormative society. queer love can be made of FONY all the same:

MacGowan’s first verse stings, does it not? sadness, desperation, and longing. in queer society, we have all been MacGowan’s character and we have all been the Old Man, even if it’s not the bottle and the drunk tank. we’re survivors, we’re bloodied and bruised, we refuse to go away no matter how many AIDS-genocides, moral panics, and hate-murders they do to us. there are nights where we think by all mercy we Won’t See Another One, and we turn our face away and Dream About You. there’s always hope. there’s always reasons to continue the fight, and they don’t have to be abstract

when the sobbing’s over, the Pogues immediately come to life for the main body. we go up and down the rollercoaster of emotions while the band keeps playing, while the air is always jubilant. the wonder, the delight, the hope, the madlove, the melodrama, the bile, the hatred. for a song making allusions of broadway, it sounds fresh from broadway - our story is painted through feelings, not words. and when it’s over, MacColl’s character (seems to, judging by the tonal finality of MacGowan’s lines and her participation in the final chorus) forgives her abusive partner and reattaches her hopes to him, her drunkard patriarch. but we’re queer, remember - we’re not celebrating these straggot pieces of shit. we find identity in the feelings. we have all been MacColl’s character, finding wonder and hope and the chance to become who we want to be, and being given false promises by false starts. and if you’ll forgive me for entertaining MacGowan’s character’s bastard misogynist perspective for a second, we’ve all found ourselves having to defend our queer communities, having to stand by our old sluts on junk, even as doing so takes its toll and sometimes feels like a burden. those feelings happen. they are irrational, they are bad, and they happen. and a new day comes and we’re thankful we stood by. it’s a melodramatic broadway banger - we can find meaning in all places, even the ‘b*tch-wife’ slurrings of a misogynist

it’s that power that lets a queer reading of FONY stick the fucking landing. again i repeat myself, from a surface reading the ending is toxic as shit. but queer reading is in the feeling. this lament, this mournful lament, of misplaced hopes, of lost dreams, and a commitment to what we have, and looking forward despite unbearable challenge. you’d scream ‘leave him!’ to every straight MacColl in the world, that’s like, feminism 101 - but queer life is nothing if not complicated. the queer-read MacGowan isn’t a toxic gay lover. he is queer life itself. he took our dreams from us when we first found him, so it may appear. the hatred we feel inside, the emptiness, the pain, it’s all there with the phantasmic joy, the discovery, the love, the everything. and the band always keeps playing. straight MacColls returning to their straight MacGowans is stupid, but we don’t have a choice. our community is everything, our support is everything. it’s rough. it can almost kill you. but would any of us trade it for anything else? we are MacColls and MacGowans all at once - we are the ones with fragile hopes, we are the ones who damage it, and shepherd it still. we’re our own worst enemy and we’re all we have

when Shane MacGowan adapted the original lyrics of a lonely seafarer, he did not turn it into a queer song. in fact, he wrote a character yelling the f-slur. there is not a gramme of queercoding here. but exactly what is the difference between the actual faggots finding commonality in the villain songs penned to mock us, or old broadway songs that have nothing to do with us, and the yuletide song that actively hates us? fucking little, i would argue. queer celebration’s power is its ability to reconstrue. they call us faggot every month of the year with nary a second thought, and we spit it right back at them with reclamation and solidarity. we should do the same in december. we dance to the tune of their bigotry and we sing along at the top of our lungs. they are quietening down out of embarrassment - long may our party reign. FONY, a bigoted song, is a queer anthem because it has been made so. the madness. the love. the sadness. the dreams. that is queerness. and queer revolution is not giving one single, solitary shite about straight people’s discomfort about what the cheap, lousy faggots choose to celebrate. the way the ending instrumental tapers off into beautiful emotion - the straights have abandoned it: that feeling of love, that feeling of joy, that feeling belongs to us now

sing it like you would all queer songs. hold your friends close and celebrate them. love everyone around you. and when the naughty word comes around, scream it