#I like calling them “Two idiots” idk why or how this came into being a thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miyakiwiii · 2 months ago

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GUESS NO ONE EVER TAUGHT YOU HOW TO BE A REAL MAN...。o○ [2]

KANG DAE HO x FEM!READER

Wylcome back sigmas.. or idk.. help

TAGS

mmm red light green light,blood, a lot of blood, uh period ahh period uh, 'IVE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE' ahh gi hun, but has gore and a lot of death, spoilers, lots of hand holdinh between TWO players (guess who)

NOTE:

Heyy wassup my peeparoo's, i hope yer liking this series fic or whatevs you call it! Ilysm and ty for liking the last post! THAT WAS THE FASTEST LIKES IVE EVER RECEIVED( *・ω・)ノ TYSMM

WORD COUNT:3,560k

PREVIOUS... NEXT PART.. MASTERLIST

"That is correct." The square says. 'Hope this'll be fun, whatsoever.' I say in my thought's, focusing on the rushing things that came on my mind.

"...cool i guess, free money from playing kiddie games." I put yet again, both of my hands in my pocket's. But suddenly, a voice of an old woman was heard.

"Good heavens- excuse me." The voice echoed through the room.

A faint sound of a slap, a slap on a cloth was heard as it soon was followed by words. "You idiot-!" The old woman says.

"Mom! Wha- what are you doing here..?" The familliar voice that was heard earlier said.

"Thats what i wanted to ask you! What are you doing here!?" The old woman's voice said angrily.

"Embarassing? If you know what was embarassing, you wouldn't be here!" The old woman continued, i guess the son spoke in a whisper before that then.

"No- we wont, come on! Your leaving." The old woman said again, it appears to be that my calculations were correct, never mind im sounding like a nerd.

'Wow, family drama in such place like this is crazy, haha.' I say in my thoughts.

"Why would you bring a naive old woman here?! Will you take responsibilit if my mom collapses!? HAH?" The familliar male's voice earlier yelled out.

"yong sik- ill stay and do this, you go home.." the old woman said, now that you knew that player's name.

"Stop it! Im already here, i cant just leave!" Yong sik continues.

"But you promised me! You promised never to gamble again!" The old woman continues(i love this diva sm)

SKIPPING TO.. TAKE PICCIES.

As you were standing in line, looking at the players taking their pics as a woman on the speakers had announced something.

"Damn.. this is taking long, my feet are gonna be sore-" i sighed, but the speakers interrupt me.

"The first game will begin momentarily."

Now the line being done, you took a step as it said to you.. "smile." Yeah sure, smile for the picture or cheese?

(The picture is what i potray the reader as! But you can potray the reader however you like, or being yourself! The reader can be any race, weight, or bodyshape! As long as your enjoying it :). )

Music plays as you stood infront of the camera.

"Yeah i wont.. smile." You say, because your smile scared alot of children last time you approached them, yeesh.

You walked out of the photo booth or something ... i really dont know what its called.

The speaker spoke again.

"After having your picture taken, follow the staff's instructions and proceed to the game site." The speaker says as you slowly went up the stairs...

☆ ○o。..。o○ ☆

"Welcome to the first game, all players please wait a moment on the field." The speaker says as you stepped out, there was sand in the ground, the walls were painted like landscapes, and there was a huge hole above all of this.

But the strange thing you noticed is that..

There was a weird doll that represented a figure of a child, it wore yellow and had pigtails, "yeesh that give's me the chills." You said as the sun went to blind your eyes.

The door behind you closed, basically the door was shut behind you, automatically..

"The game is Red light, Green light." It announced.

I prepared myself as i stretched my arm's "first game, easy enough." You say with confidence as you looked at the front.

"Hey! Dont get too cocky missy." Someone said right behind you, ew.

"Nah, id win." You said, your back still facing the man that said you were too cocky, well it was a sheer boost of confidence.

"Cross the finish line in five minutes without getting caught. If you do you pass." The speaker says but suddenly- someone went upfront, it was the familliar voice that you heard earlier. "Everyone! Everyone! Pay attention!" The familliar figure waved and put his hand to deliver attention to him, wow main character energy that much.

"Listen carefully! This is not just a game! If you lose the game, you DIE!" He yelled out.

"Dying from a kid's game? Sounds awfully fake." You said, fixing your hair as strands went up to your face, looking at the.. crazy? You wouldnt call him that, Man.

"That sounds sketchy,"

"Fake"

"Hes crazy."

People spoke, as you laughed a little.

"Hey! What are you talking about?" A random woman says. "Were going to die playin' red light, green light?" The random woman questioned.

The familliar figure responded. "Of course! If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot from somewhere!" The man says.

"Sounds weird enough." You said, letting out a sigh as you moved your head again, looking at your left, you noticed... player 388 yet again. His head was tilted slightly as he listened to the man's words. Huh, cute- wait. Your only here for money not for love.

"Oh hey its you agai-" you spoke out, but the familliar figure that was in the front spoke again.

"Stay on your toes!" The familliar figure yelled out.

"Ehem, as i was saying, hello... player 388." You greeted him as he glanced at you, his lips were parted as he waved a little bit.

"Ah.. hello again uhm, player 238." He says flashing a small grin, but the familliar figure spoke again.

"If you get caught, YOU DIE! That doll's eyes are motion detectors!" The familliar figure says."Stay on your toes!"

"Well, no time for chatting i guess." I say as i spoke to player 288, he nods as we both stood silent, the tension was akward even if there were multiple people surrounding us.

"What the hell are you talking about???" A random man says. "I think he's trying to scare us so he can win the prize money!"

"Thats right!"

"I agree!"

Multiple people agreed on the man's words as we both still stood akwardly with each other.

"Dont pull any tricks, asshole!" Another guy says.

"You have to believe me!" The familliar figure says. The figure rotate's its head as the weird doll starts to move, its right hand started to raise and cover its eye. You took a deep breath and released it.

"Do not be alarmed or panic! No matter what happens, do not panic and start running!" The figure says.

"Let the game begin."

An alarm suddenly ticks as the doll finally spoke.

"Green light, red light."

You moved, and finally stop, looking at the man that did a gesture that made his arms go down.

"Freeze!" The man yelled, you focused on not moving as your feet began digging in the sand. The sun literally is interfering with this.

The doll rotated its head as its eyes began to weirdly move. 'Ew.... creppy ass doll.' You said, looking at the doll while you spoke in your thoughts.

"Well done! You just need to stay calm like this! We just have to move and stop at the same time!" The man yelled.

"Green light...." you moved fastly as you halted, the man speaking yet again.

"Freeze!" He yelled.

'Being in a jumper while being under the sun, too much coverage, but gotta handle it.' You say in your thoughts yet again.

"Dont move! Stay still! Just relax!" The man yelled.

"Green light.." you ran slowly.

"Red light." The doll chanted.

It repeated again as you took some steps, you really wished there was an AC inside this room, well.. you never experienced it anyway except when going to stores and such.

"Freeze!" The man repeatedly yelled again.

'This is getting boring not gonna lie..' you say in your thoughts again.

The doll moved its head again as you repeated it, repeat repeat repeat, even hid words were repeated.

You freezed yet again, the air hitting you lightly.

But suddenly, you heard a gunshot.

Shit.

A loud thud echoed through as you stood, now static as a heavy boulder. Then, there was a scream that followed now, people we're moving. Scarlet red coated the back of your jumper as you still stood. Not flinching from the sound at all.

Screams and gunshots continued, more blood soon dripped in the ground, wow you already got stained by someone's blood. Thats that for not knowing what will happen, also maybe consequences in the first round: getting stained by someones blood.

'Just dont move and we'll be good.' The gunshot's were still going as the man yelled again. "Freeze!" One more gunshot followed it.

"You can move forward while the tagger shouts, 'red light green light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will get eliminated."

The doll rotated its head again as you still stood.

It rotated its head for two times untill the familliar voice finally spoke again.

"You'll also die if you donr make it there in time! That doll is a motion detector! But it can't detect motion thats not visible to it!" The man signals its hand open and closed as he continues with his words. "Get behind someone bigger than you! Like your following the leader! Were running out of time! We've got to move!" You moved behind a.. familliar back with that signature small ponytail of their's.

Player 388. Huh this must be a coincidence that your almost being close to him and such.

You suddenly stumbled as you put your hand behind him.

"...sorry." you said, gripping his jumper a little to be a gesture of an apology, you noticed his hand slightly shaking, that made you feel slightly worried.

"No-nono.. its fine.. miss." He said, you can tell he was anxious suddenly.

Two gunshots were soon followed again as the doll moved its head again, getting your grip out of 388's jumper, he suddenly held your hand and ran, then stopped. His hand felt callused compared to yours, his was warm, yours was.. cold.

You were still behind him as you gulped some air.

Now, a line was now formed by individual players. Yet you still focused on.. the game and this feeling i guess.

"Do not move! Freeze!" The familliar man yelled out, but then suddenly, three thuds were heard as it was one gunshot, and the other two were shot at the same time.

The doll moved its head again and his grip on your hand tightened, running, and then stop.

One gunshot followed as he still kept you behind him, wow dude you guys arent even dating or in a relationship yet, get a grip🙏😭

As i was saying, it repeated again, the sound of the sand below crunching as there were another gunshot.

"Hey- 388, why are you holding my hand-" you questioned but he doesnt respond. He still kept holding it as you both halted again one gunshot. Two gunshot.

You two were almost near the finish line as you noticed someone stumble, now shot.

"It wasnt me. She pushed me i didnt move! It was her i didnt move!" The random man said.

A gunshot was soon followed as the familliar man cheered. "Your almost there! You can do it!"

You two were a step ahead on getting to the finish line.

You two both fell inside the finish line as you both grunted, now you were heaving, breathing for air.

"Im sorry uh- miss, i didnt mean to hold your hand." He said, holding a hand out for you to grab.

You held his hand and stood up, dusting the jumper.

"... thanks for shielding me though, i should be the one to apologize for-" he cut's you out.

"No, no its fine." He spoke. You noticed that there was three people running up to the finish line, the one in middle being injured.

The three of them ran, and now arrived at the finish line.

"By the way miss.. whats your name?" The man behind you spoke.

"I think you already heard it being announced but.. [nam-]" there was a gunshot followed as the man died inside the finish line.

You didnt speak after that, knowing it was a time to not speak.

"...[name]. It is.. im- im kang dae ho." He introduce's himself.

The sky suddenly darkens as you both look up, there was sound building up from the other players as it closed slowly.

"Players, its now time to go back to the quarters." The speaker had announced.

☆ ○o。..。o○ ☆

Now you and dae ho were facing each other even in opposite bunk beds, the silence filling both of your eardrums.

"That was..." you said.

"Not great." He said.

Both of you had said it in unison.

The door buzzed open as the pink guards showed up, walking a little bit.

You hid behind your bunk bed in instinct as they approached.

"Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results of the first game." The square said.

The tv immedietly turned on, showing numbers that dropped down. "Out of 456 players, 91 players have been eliminated. 365 players have completed the first game." The square announces.

"Congratulations again for making it through the first game." The square announces.

"Sir please dont kill us!" The familliar old woman's voice begged. "Please dont kill ud im begging you! As for my son's debt, i will do whatever it takes to pay you back! Please forgive us!"

It followed other players begging for their lives, kneeling down, crying. Both you and dae ho didnt mind all of them but just exchanged eye glance's.

"We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you an opportunity." The square says.

"Clause three of the consent forms!" The familliar man yelled out. " 'the games may be terminated upon a majority vote.' Correct?"

"That is correct." The square answered. Both you and dae ho's head were now turned into the direction of the familliar man, looking at him.

"Then let us vote right now." The man says.

"Of course. We respect your right and freedom of choice." The square continues. "But first, let me announce the prize amount thats been accumalated. "

The square clicks on the remote as the piggy bank slowly goes below along with music and sound effects.

I looked from the side of the bunk bed and stared at the won falling from a tube inside the piggy bank.

"The number of players that were eliminated were 91. Therefore,accumalates to 9.1 billion won." The square says. "If you quit the game now, the 365 of you can equally divide 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.

"How much is that?" The old bitc-man says.

"each person's share would be 24,931,500 won." The square says.

Voice's build up yet again as they all had different answers.

"Thats not enough.."

"We almost died for that.."

Well, it was true. You needed more won. Still too minimum.

"Million? You said 45.6 billion!" A purple haired guy said. Oh you definately could recognize the dude.

"The rule is that, a hundred million won will be accumalated for each eliminated player." The square says.

You perked up from his words that soon followed another. "If you play the next game and more players get eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly." The square spoke.

"How much will it be if you survive untill the end?" The annoying- i mean old man spoke.

"as i already told you, the total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. Those who make it through all six games, will equally divide the 45.6 billion won." The square answered.

"So if your the only one to survive, you get 45.6 billion?" A random man spoke.

"That is correct." The square answered.

Murmurs start building up again as you noticed dae ho fidgeting with his fingers, signalling him with your hand to ask if he was okay, he nods and gives you a thumbs up.

"So we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game?" A random man had spoke.

"As promised in the consent form, you can take a vote for each game and decide to leave with the prize money accumulated to that point. We alwaye prioritize your voluntary participation.. Now, lets begin the vote." The square spoke.

You gestured dae ho to stand up and he does so, walking down to go with the fewer people below.

Both of you were standing behind the several players as you sighed.

"If you wish to continue the game, press the O button, if you wish to end them, press the X button." The square has said as you looked at the ground. "The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers, player 456." The man had called out, everyone's attention went to him as you gulped, thinking about what to vote.

You needed the money because it wasnt enough.

"Its all pointless!" Your thoughts had been interrupted as a strange woman that was on the top bunks spoke. "Talk about getting creep's again.." you said.

"You didnt decide when to come into this world, and you cant decide when you leave it either. When and where you die, were already decided by the gods the moment you were born. No matter how hard you try, you CAN never escape it." The woman said.

a button was soon followed as you looked at the flat screen tv, one X. "Once you finish voting, put the patch you are given on the right side of your chest, put the patch you are given on the right side of your chest, and stand on the side you have chosen." The square announces.

A few votes followed as it called dae ho, looking at dae ho who was walking torwards the button, the O went up by one.

After few people again, it was finally your turn. "Player 238." It had announced. The X and O's side turns their face on you as you walked, thinking about the buttons that was plastered on the voting, you finally were infront of it.

You pressed.. O.

After you pressed it, they gave you a blue patch and went to the blue side, the counter went up by one yet again.

Several votes followed as the score is now 87 to 93. Looking at the screen above, someone had spoken up yet again.

"Wait a minute everyone! Wait! You cant do this." The familliar voice had spoken again, looking into the direction of that player, you already knew who it was.

"Come to your senses! Dont you see? These arent all games, we will die if we keep playing! We have to get out of here now." The man had interrupted the voting process.

"Who do you think you are?!"

"Im super man." I answered. It was that annoying old man again.

"Why do you keep egging people on like that? You scared us by saying they'd shoot us before the game even began!" Wow ferocious debate mister.

"Thats right! He was going one abour how we'd die, and i almost did because i got so nervous!" A woman had spoken up, it was followed by a man. "How did you know they were going to shoot us? Are you one of them?" The man had spoken, and that annoying voice came up again.

'Fucking hell this debate makes my head hurts..' i say in my mind, as i went to rub my temples.

"Are you conning us all by pretending to be a player? Who is this guy?!" The old man shoved the man. "Did you plant him to mess with our hands?!" The old man said.

"Thats uncalled for! We wouldn't won the game and survived if it weren't for him!" The guy who seemed to be his bestfriend defended him.

He was correct afterall, but you just needed more money to pay half of the debt.

"And you! I saw how scared you were, and your legs were shaking!" The bff man yelled.

"You should thank him, not treat him like a fraud!" The man yellled. "And who the hell are youuu? Are you conspiring with him?" Another guy said. "Older than you, what are you going to do? Huh? Huh?" It was followed by an old woman's voice gesturinh for them to stop.

"Please dont do this, listen- none of us would be alive if it weren't for this gentleman! So enough with the greed- lets put our live's first and get out of this place- okay?" The old woman cried out.

"Thats right!"

"Lets get all out of here!"

"No we have to keep playing!"

The arguments were cut off as it was followed by the familliar man's voice.

"I have played these games before! I have done this before! I know about the first game because i had played it before! I played the games three years ago! And everyone who was with me.. died here!" The man had said, as voices build up yet again, theyre so noisy...

"They all did?"

"All of them?"

"Really, no way. If they all did, how did you survive alone? Wait. Are you saying you were the sole winner?" A man had said. "Thats right. I was the final winner." The familliar man answered. They were gossiping again soon after. "If we continue the games, every single person here... just like all the people back then, will die in the end." You can hear pain in his last few words. You felt bad but, you still needed the money.

"Bullshit." The old man interrupted again."if you were the sole winner it means you eon 45.6 billion won. If you really did, why would you even come back here?"

"Thats right! Hes lying!"

"Cut the crap!"

"Hes a total nutcase!"

"If someone like you can win, so can i!"

"If you really won it actually works better for us. You can give us some tips, on how to beat these game's." The familliar purple haired dude said, now you do recognize him.

"Thats right! We have a previous winner with us, so what do we have to worry about? Come on lets do this!"

"Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Lets make some money!"

"Lets do this!"

"Lets do it!"

"Lets try!"

You just stood there processing what happened as every word of them came to a blur, but the square spoke again.

"From here on, we will not tolerate actions that disrupt the voting process. Now, lets resume the vote."

Few votes afterward, it all led to a tie. People cheered for the tie.

"Lastly, player 001." They all looked into the direction of the man.

"Everyone say O!"

"O!"

"X!"

They all cheered as the man went to the voting podium.

All of them were now focused on the man, so were you.

The vote had clicked as the O... won.

Half of the people in O cheered as you covered your ears, now.. all the people retreated to their quarters. You noticed dae ho and ran up to him.

"Hey, dae ho!" You said, he noticed you as you followed him, going to your bunk bed as the opposite of him.

You sat down in the bunk bed and looked at hid patch, you werent alone anyways.

"Hey dae ho.. do you have a reason on why you voted O?" You asked, looking at him. "Yeah.. i do." He said quietly.

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randombush3 · 2 months ago

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the winner takes it all

alexia putellas x reader

summary: an unexpected invitation throws your world off-kilter

words: 6276

content warnings: it's a bit unfaithful

notes: in this universe real madrid is a proper opponent and rival to barcelona, in the sense that funding and history is relatively equal (so it's basically more like the men's rivalry)

idk where this came from tbh

Amb gran alegria,

Alexia i Olga

T’invitem a celebrar la nostra unió matrimonial.

10 d’agost de 2025

Gran Hotel Mas d’en Bruno

You haven’t read Catalan in years. You squint at the details.

You wish you had forgotten it.

Only Alexia would do this to you, twisting the knife as though it’s a favour, a compliment. Make it seem psychotic for not wanting to go, make it seem like it’s not a big deal.

The invitation isn’t personalised. You are not special in her eyes. You have been allowed onto the guest list, you have no mark in her life. Surely Olga would have objected if she’d known, if she’d been told. Maybe Alexia doesn’t talk about it. Maybe she has heard your name on match reports and team sheets, announcements for captaincy, interviews with Las 16 who called you traidora then and call you traidora now.

As if she knew it was coming, your phone begins to light up with messages from Alba. Apologies, perhaps, in her own Alba way. Stuff like ‘are you coming’ and ‘you don’t have to’ and then more buzzing, vibrating the shitstorm into a phone call.

You don’t speak often. Why would you? But you answer it, listless, really, and unsure what the correct approach to this even is.

“Hola, traidorita,” she says with a nervous giggle, reclaiming your nickname in Barcelona but reminding you of how you are perceived nevertheless. “I don’t know why you are on the guest list.”

Alba is like this: straight to the point, unafraid of her sister and unafraid to tell you what she thinks. They are very different, which is why she is the only one who has your current number in her contacts.

“You told her where I live,” you respond. Your shock makes no room for manners. “Because no one there has my Madrid address, Albi.”

“No one here has it, yeah. But she asked around. Well, Olga did.” She laughs again. Her nervousness is high-pitched and easily detected. “Told Ale that she has to have her childhood best friend at her wedding.”

“Childhood best friend?”

“Estranged childhood best friend?” she tries, and you can hear the smile and the teasing fucking smugness in it. You wonder if anyone else knows you have been invited. Alba because your address was squeezed out of her, sure, but… “And my mother thought it was a good idea too, before you try to murder a woman you have never met.”

“I’ve met Olga before,” you say without thinking, because that’s far easier to focus on than the idea of Eli getting involved in this completely undesired reunion that is about two centuries too early. “When I was going out with, eh, I don’t remember her name. A model. You know what they’re like. Olga’s the one who works for… thingie.”

There’s a sigh from the other end. “So many models yet not one name has been retained. Do you even ask them?”

“We’re not usually doing much talking.”

“Zorra.”

“Coming from you…” You smirk at the thought of all the little secrets Alba’s had you keep, a tradition that started young and became increasingly frequent when you removed yourself from everyone else’s lives. It’s like a journal, only you judge her. “You’re doing a good job of distracting me until I agree to go.”

She hesitates, then. You’re not an idiot and you know why she called. Alba is supportive but she has her own agenda most of the time, and no one else knows the exact time you get back from training aside from your fellow teammates. Even then, most are too intimidated to contact you in general, let alone to ask about being invited to Alexia Putellas’ fucking wedding.

Alba is also very manipulative, a professional puppeteer. And she knows exactly what to say. “It’s been fifteen years. Are you going to let her win?” It’s an infuriating provocation but it hits its target with ease.

…

The first step of preparing for this wedding takes place in the form of the Euros: you’re going to win it and be happy enough to ignore the impending doom hanging over your off-season plans. Going into the competition with heavy medals round your necks makes cockiness the slippiest of slopes, and it is safe to say that most of your teammates are prepared to cruise through at least the group stages.

An unexpected injury rips Jenni’s opportunity to play from her grasp (an echo of her ex-girlfriend, you briefly think), and she is flying back to Mexico before the tournament begins. Montse is a captain down – of course only this kind of disaster could happen to her – and before Patri can even open her mouth to volunteer for the role, you are dragged into a leadership meeting.

You’ve worn the armband before, though it seared and burned and blistered until you threw it in Jorge’s face and demanded someone else absorb the hatred it brought. He went ballistic as you’d said it, you remember, his face going red in the soft glow of your hotel room the night before the World Cup final. He’d leaned forwards, fist clenched, knuckles white and wanting to choke the life out of you.

“You have no respect!” he’d roared, voice splitting like thunder against the thin walls of your hotel room. “Not for me, not for your country, not for anything!” His breath was coming out in sharp ragged gasps. He spat. You’d wiped it off your body. “I thought you had scraped all the Catalan out of you, but here it is!” he’d screamed, loud enough to be heard but so comfortable in his power that it did not seem to frighten him. “Selfish and arrogant. You should have made it Seventeen.”

He’d left in his rage, slamming his door.

You regretted smiling in pictures with him, shaking his hand, kissing his cheek. You regretted the press conferences and interviews, the shaky defence you had constructed, the words of faith and trust you had professed and tried to believe. It had changed you, just a little bit, that incident. Made you think about who you are, where you come from. Made you remember someone you’d tried to forget.

But Irene and Alexia, staring at you with both contempt and confusion as you take a seat at the conference table, don’t know any of this. Why would they? To them, this is the traidora.

“Y/n is going to take Jenni’s place as third captain,” says Montse firmly, if she even knows how to do that. Irene and Alexia share a glance. Their roles have been restored for this competition and they are not prepared for an intruder to take that from them, although Irene will later remind Alexia that it is not your fault Jenni got injured. “I trust you three will come up with a suitable management plan. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

None of you really do know where she lurks, but she is walking off before you can clarify.

“We already have a strategy.” And she says it in Catalan, looking falsely apologetic when she is kicked underneath the table.

“Good job, Alexia,” you tell her, so nauseatingly saccharine that you almost think of the nearest route to a toilet. She’s surprised you’ve granted her a reply though, which is satisfying enough. About to spit out another remark to divide yourselves further, you shift in your chair, stretching out your legs underneath the table.

It is then that her ring catches your eye.

It’s delicate, shiny. A neatly cut diamond set in platinum with slight details that tell you someone thought about Alexia when they had this made and got it all wrong. Or maybe this is what she likes now. It’s not what you’d have given her.

She sees your eyes fall to her fingers, watching carefully as your gaze heats the metal and makes it almost too hot for her to keep on. You don’t really want her to know that you’ve seen it but you’ve made it bleeding obvious and so the predicament spirals and Irene wants, desperately, to leave you two alone – she knows shouldn’t, she’s aware of the health and safety risk.

There is something about the way Alexia clenches her jaw, posture stiffening as she allows herself one flicker from your face to the ring, that tells you she is bracing herself for a bullet. She always did have an uncanny ability to read you, however unwanted it was.

You lean back in your chair, aware of how the bystander is holding her breath, and decide to swallow the words burning on your tongue. You’ve accepted her invitation, and bitter manners are still manners. “Congratulations,” you say, words clipped and brittle, each syllable more venomous than the last.

The chair makes a screeching sound as you stand. Irene flinches but Alexia does not move. She refuses to watch as you walk out of the room.

…

Three hours later, Alexia is off the phone with Olga and knocking on Irene’s door with an embarrassed suppression of urgency. Shoulders hunched and lips downturned, the sight is enough for her to be ushered inside with only the quiet flap of Irene’s arms to beckon her forwards. With this part of the training camp being not quite tunnel-vision yet, Irene’s room is littered with toys and toddler stuff. Usually Alexia would be looking at them in quiet excitement. Right now, she is not so sure.

“Second thoughts?” Irene asks, and Alexia half-jumps backwards in shock, about to furiously shake her head and profess her love for Olga– “I think the plan is good. I don’t think we need to worry about Y/n in the centre, seeing how she’s been playing there this season.”

It slowly dawns on Alexia that Irene has assumed this is pre-tournament nerves, and that she is being shown such a vulnerable side of her co-captain because, well, who else can be? No one wants to see their commander gulp at the sight of the battlefield.

“She still favours her left,” Alexia gets out. “She might drift, leaving a big gap for you to cover.”

“She’s got offers from PSG, Chelsea, and Washington Spirit. It’s in her interest not to drift.”

“She’s good at drifting.”

Irene doesn’t respond to that.

“Since when did you wear your ring to training?” is what she chooses to say instead, asking the question with a healthy fear of getting her head bitten off, taking a small step backwards to put her at a safer distance.

Alexia doesn’t reply immediately, her fingers grazing the ring as she thinks. The weight of it seems heavier now, almost suffocating in the sterile air of the hotel room, as though this is everything she’s been trying to avoid. Her heart thuds against her ribcage. It feels like everyone is starting to notice.

“I didn’t think it was an issue.” Her voice is tight, defensive, but with a subtle, betraying crack. She pulls her hand back from the air, letting it fall to her side. “We hardly did much more than pass the ball today so I kept it on.”

It’s a poor excuse. It comes off for the cameras, not the contact of the game. Irene knows that. But, to her credit, she doesn’t push. She just watches Alexia, eyes narrowed slightly in an unreadable expression. “I just thought you guys were keeping it a bit more… private.”

Alexia turns her gaze to the floor, staring at the scattered toys and items around the room. The simplicity of it all, the domestic innocence, makes her feel even more tangled. She feels an urge to lie, to say that Olga asked her to, worried that you’d misinterpret its absence, but Olga doesn’t even know she has reason to lose sleep. She hasn’t found the courage to explain. She hasn’t felt the need to.

And, really, the truth is right here, echoing between them. Irene would have pieced together the story, as many of Alexia’s teammates have, hearing drunken retellings on nights out from whoever has known the two of you the longest that time. Maybe Alba has spoken to her, revealing everything after a round of tequila shots, as she tends to do. There are a few suggestions the older woman could make to her teammate, wounds she could open and then nurse, but she doesn’t and so she waits.

Until, finally, Alexia admits, “it’s complicated. She has caught me off-guard.” It could mean many things, but it is either your captaincy or the acceptance of her wedding invitation that has done Alexia in. She wonders whether this feeling of dread and uncertainty is the game – or the life waiting for her after she comes back from Switzerland. “Look,” she says abruptly, “I’m not here for advice, Irene.”

“Then why are you in my room?” She doesn’t have an answer for that. Irene sweeps her outside, gently but firmly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,” she treads lightly, “but when was the last time you had a conversation with her?”

…

The training pitch in Switzerland is unseasonably hot, the kind of heat that clings to the air and makes tempers run shorter than usual. It’s almost a cure to homesickness but then the team look at each other and are back to hating every minute of this. There’s an undeniable divide. Montse either does not care or has not caught on.

It’s about your twentieth rondo this session, the ball zipping across the wilting grass as it touches Barça foot to Barça foot, the girls obviously enjoying this. You’re only holding back because too much investment will lead to another injury, and you are getting somewhat tired of being called a traitor. The players surround you with a ruthless efficiency that is starting to fray your nerves, and you make a note to talk to your coach about training, knowing that it will be easy to manipulate her into following something akin to what the girls at Madrid are more accustomed to.

Alexia is one of your taunters. Of course she is.

“Just three more interceptions,” she calls out, false strain, false support, false encouragement.

You bite back a retort, instead standing still as Aitana rolls a ball right past you. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feigning exhaustion, but the pretense is only that in name. Everyone knows you are one of the best defenders, the Barça girls especially, with their insane pride for La Masia.

“Lazy,” Alexia mutters.

You don’t respond, focusing instead on the fire in your chest as you forcibly break the circle and march towards Montse. She looks up from her clipboard as you approach.

“We should split training.” She pauses and then nods. “Attack and defence, at least. And don’t let the press hear this, but, my god, Montse, I do not like how they’re all back.”

“We’re a stronger team,” she says, but she’s smiling and you are definitely her favourite. Another deep breath and she is calling a water break.

The girls retreat to the sidelines for ice and hydration, and you reunite with the people you like. Your club teammates prefer you at national camp, because there is something less reclusive about you. It’s as though you’re trying to prove that you get on.

Olga hands you a water bottle, the contents of which you guzzle down in one go. She begins to comment on the absurdity of Alexia’s mandated rondos (“why do they have to keep reminding themselves how to pass a ball?”) and while you agree, your attention is diverted. Alexia is standing a few meters away with Mariona Caldentey. She’s listening to something the forward is telling her, face focused, finger twisting her ring around in circles.

That fucking ring.

You look away before you are caught in such a compromising position, wiping your forehead with your damp training shirt.

“Oye,” Misa’s voice pulls you back, “are you paying attention?” You’re not even sure when she joined the conversation. Your relationship with the goalkeeper has always been overly complicated. You work very closely, what with you commanding the backline and her… also commanding the backline. But she’s friends with people who must have at least once wished you dead, so it’s hard to tell where you stand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie, screwing the cap back onto the water bottle and placing it in Olga’s held-out palm.

“You’re never this spacey. You’ve been off since the meeting,” she presses, her voice gentle but insistent. “If this is about the captaincy–”

“It’s not,” you snap, harsher than what was meant. Her eyes widen slightly and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sorry. It’s not about that. I’m fine.”

Misa doesn’t look convinced but she nods, letting it drop. Gratitude relaxes your shoulders but the uneasy silence that follows is punishing enough for you to be eager for training to resume.

Now that the rondos have been left behind until tomorrow, you divide into teams for a scrimmage. The squad is split into four and you throw yourself into the exercise. Every touch, every pass, every run is perfect, and you are unrecognisable from your lackadaisical lull only ten minutes ago. You’re pushing your body and it flicks onto autopilot, driven by muscle memory and determination.

Your head’s not in it. You can’t outrun her shadow. You can’t think when your teams are against each other.

The ring must have come off now, and she is getting stuck in. She’s relentless and irritating, evading your teammates’ tackles and drawing you into her. It’s almost transportative: back you go to gardens after school or being barefoot on the beach, forced out of your relaxation and into an endless game of ‘tackle me like you mean it’. She has that same glint in her eye, that same goading gleam. You consider it, but crutches at a wedding is a low blow.

And so you lay off. Just on her, and only just enough so that she knows you are not trying. You do not care for petty squabbles. You are not willing to go back to those memories, to that time.

Or at least, that’s the message you hope she gets.

The games slowly wind down, prompted by Montse’s whistle to signal the end of the session. You stay on the pitch longer than anyone else, taking you time to collect the stray balls scattered across the grass. It’s partly an excuse to delay walking into the locker room, where the tension will be thick (you were not the right choice for third captain in the eyes of your teammates), and partly because you need a moment to breathe.

The others slowly disperse, peeling off to the showers or collapsing onto benches. Alexia lingers longer than most, wiping away her sweat with her shirt, abs exposed and tensed. She watches you as you move across the pitch, and though her gaze is subtle, you can feel it blazing hotter than the sun lashing down on you. But, despite her staring, she too is eventually coaxed away. You’re unsure whether she is thankful for the interruption.

When you finally make your way to the changing rooms, most of your teammates are in the showers, and the sound of running water mingled with laughter echoes. You take a seat at the locker you were assigned and let out a slow breath, peeling off sweat-soaked socks with mild disgust. You turn to fling them into your laundry bag, but their flight path is blocked by a blonde who has clearly delayed her own shower to talk to you.

She’s looking oddly pensive. You don’t like it.

“We need to talk.” It’s uncomfortable for Alexia to say and it’s worse for you to hear. You’re not sure you’re okay with her decision to become reasonable and mature. It’s quite the compliment to always be the cause for stoic, rational Alexia Putellas going absolutely batshit crazy.

Driving her up the wall is fun.

“I’ll send you an invitation. No need to tell me which room is yours.” You give her a smile. And, like you always do, you walk away.

…

There’s a charge to the air that is choking you by dinner time. The upgrade to captain allowed for your own room, and it is easy to blow off teammates who want to have plans with you with the simple excuse of needing to talk to your agent. You technically do, since you are going to leave Madrid during the transfer window, but you have no intention of dialling his number until he confirms the best and furthest team wants you.

You’ve spent the evening avoiding the majority of the players, which Montse took advantage of, encouraging you to spend dinner discussing tactics with her and her staff. You feel like the teacher’s pet. You know how angry it is making Alexia.

Collapsing on the bed when you back into your room, you let out a loud groan, sinking into the mattress. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table and for a moment, you think it might be Alba, allowing you no peace and quiet despite her distance. Instead, it’s a message on the team group chat from the strength and conditioning coach about tomorrow’s gym session. A wave of relief washes over you; anything but her.

Still, as you scroll, you catch yourself lingering on the names in the group chat, your thumb hovering near Alexia’s. Your stomach tightens and the memory of her tone, her expression, pulls at you like a tether.

She’s not going to drop this.

It’s no longer a matter of avoidance in the camp. You’ve said you will be present. She must want to ensure you will not make a scene.

A knock at the door, so quiet you are almost convinced it was imagined, breaks you out of your brooding. Your eyes watch the wood as though it will be splintered in a moment, but when you make no move to get up, a more insistent knock sounds. You sigh as you pull yourself off your bed, dragging your feet towards the door. Opening it, you find Alexia standing there, arms crossed and wearing an expression you can’t quite decipher. It lacks her usual burning hatred. She looks exhausted.

You struggle to feel any sympathy.

“What?” you snap. It’s a bit harsher than intended but you don’t let on that that’s the case.

“Can I come in?” You guess that she didn’t pick up the hint when you gave her no invitation. You do not want to talk. You don’t do that to people much anymore.

She expects the door to slam in her face – and you consider it – but it’s your hesitation that tells her she can, and so she slowly moves inside, shoulder brushing yours because you refuse to move out of the way. And then she raises a deliberate hand towards the door, pushing it shut. You ignore the ring.

You lean against the door once it’s shut, arms folded as she wanders further into your room. She looks out of place somewhere so personal to you, standing awkwardly in the centre and trying not to look at the explosion of clothes and books that has been detonated on the floor.

She reads the titles of a few – classics that look dense and boring. Something hungry inside her dulls a bit, because you have not changed in this respect.

“You’re quiet for someone who wants to talk,” you prompt, mostly because the silence is unbearable.

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her arms drop to her sides, fingers twitching as if unsure what to do with themselves. She tries to meet your eyes, but falters when she sees the cold indifference staring back. You’re looking at her like she’s a stranger. It stings more than it should.

“I didn’t invite you to the wedding,” she says finally. “Olga doesn’t know about us.”

“There’s no ‘us’,” you snap, sharper this time.

Her jaw tightens and for a second, she looks as though she’s been struck. “Don’t lie.”

“There is no ‘us’,” you repeat, your tone icy now. “That disappeared the minute I–”

“Left,” comes her interruption, her voice trembling just enough for you to notice. She steps closer, her shadow crossing yours, and her eyes narrow. “Which was your decision, not mine.”

You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Don’t act like you didn’t have a say in it.”

“I didn’t!” she fires back, her voice rising. There is something raw beneath it – something fractured. “You didn’t give me one. You walked out, and you shut me out like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.”

Her words hang in the air and for a moment, you don’t know whether to shoot or turn away. But her gaze pins you in place, fierce and unrelenting, as though daring you to deny it.

You hold her stare, your throat tightening. “And you didn’t try to stop me.”

The silence that follows feels deafening. Neither of you moves. Neither of you blinks. You’re both standing on landmines and have nowhere to go.

Her jaw clenches, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Her voice, though low, crackles with the heat of restrained anger.

“You didn’t give me a chance to stop you.” And she steps closer, ready to bite. The door presses against your back as you instinctively move away. “You made up your mind before I even knew what was happening.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.” You shake your head. “I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to leave, Alexia.”

Her expression darkens, something in her eyes flickering dangerously. “That’s not the point. You didn’t just leave the club. You didn’t just leave me. You left everything. Our family. Our life. Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you walk away as if none of it mattered?”

Your chest tightens but you refuse to let her words land. “You don’t get to make me the villain here.”

“I don’t have to,” she snaps, her voice rising now, accent thickening with her anger. “You were part of my family, part of me. You were at every Christmas, every birthday. My mother adored you. Alba still loves you like you are her own sister! And you just disappeared like none of it meant anything. Like we didn’t mean anything.”

You flinch at the weight of her words but force yourself into steadiness. “I didn’t belong there. It wasn’t mine, it was yours.”

Her face twists in disbelief, voice trembling as it rises again. “That’s bullshit and you know it! You were my family. My first everything. My first kiss. My first…” She pauses, her voice cracking. You swallow hard – you don’t want the fucking itemised list. “My first time. You think I just gave that to anyone? You think that it was just fun and games?”

Your stomach churns as she stokes a fire you’ve tried to smother for years. “It wasn’t nothing,” you agree, although it sounds like you are contradicting her in a way that causes her to falter on her drive forwards. “It was everything. That’s why I left. Because I couldn’t be what was needed anymore. Because I knew if I stayed, I’d only–”

“Only what?”

You gulp.

She’s back in your face, voice laced with venom. “Hurt me? Ruin me? Let us all done? Guess what, you did that anyway. Leaving made it easier? Made it hurt less?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” you shout, voice splitting.

“You stay!” It echoes and it bruises your skin. Her eyes are blazing now, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. “You stay, because that is what you do when you love someone. When you love a family. You don’t just walk away from them. You fight.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between guilt and pride. She sees it and it only seems to enrage her further.

Her voice drops, anger so torrid she has to purposely cool her tone. “You know, I thought that my world was ending then. I thought you’d done your worst. But I was wrong. Because your betrayal wasn’t just personal, it was… political. To not see someone you love except for when they are sitting at the feet of this. Corruption’s pet. Pandering to an organisation you hated, while the rest of us fought for scraps.”

Heat rises in your chest. How dare she– “I don’t pander to anyone.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she spits. She’s too close. She’s too inescapable. And her anger is no longer fiery but icy, piercing through your skin. “I’ve seen the way you act around them, bowing your head and playing the loyal soldier while they tear us apart. You think I didn’t notice how he favoured you? Or how Montse magically replaces an irreplaceable member of–”

“It’s not like that,” you counter, but the words feel hollow even to you.

“Then what is it?” she demands. “What is it that makes you stand there and let them walk all over us? Let them divide us? And don’t you dare say it is for the good of the team. The team hates you for it. We all do. You’ve earned every bit of it, traidora.”

The word hits you like a whip, lacerating and making you bleed. Your hands curl into fists so tightly your nails dig into your palms, the sting barely enough to contain the fury surging through you. “Don’t you dare call me that!” The sentence tears out of your throat, rough and jagged. You take a step forwards, the air between you crackling with tension, your voice breaking as you spit, “you don’t get to say that to me. Not you.”

“Why not?” she challenges. “It’s what you are. You left, you betrayed everything we stood for, and then you came back just to make things worse. You made your choices.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her, the anger and heartbreak in her eyes, eviscerating and leaving you hollow. But then, something shifts in the air between you, and you find your voice again, souring from before.

“Is that why you’re here, Alexia? To throw all of this in my face? To let out fifteen years of harboured emotion? Or is it something else?”

Her brow furrows in confusion. Surprise. And then her expression twists into anger. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You take a step forward now, and she is forced to retreat. “Do you not want to marry Olga, Alexia? Is that it? Is that why you’re here? Because you think you can come into my room, dredge all of this up, and make me the reason you’re unhappy?”

Her face pales as she takes a deep breath, hands trembling at her sides. “Don’t,” she warns, firmly enough to signal you need to push.

So you do.

“You came here because you’re scared.” She shakes her head but it’s rigid and forced. “Because you’re not sure you can go through with it and you want me to give you a reason to back out. Well, I’m not going to do that for you. This isn’t my mess. It’s yours.”

She says nothing and you feel sick. Her chest rises and falls with each gasping breath. She opens her mouth but again, you are left with silence, and the expression in her eyes flickers between defiance, confusion, and vulnerability. For a long moment, it feels like everything that could be said has been.

The air between you is charged, but neither of you know which way it will go.

You stare at her watching her waver. And it hits you: she doesn’t know what to do.

All of this, all the anger and the pain, all the accusations and betrayals, has led her here, to this moment. She thought she had an answer, she thought she would be able to end this, but now? Now, Alexia is lost. There is too much here, too much to lose. And for the first time in a long while, you are feeling the same thing. You are both no longer sure if you want to fight.

She takes a hesitant step closer and you freeze. But then, just as quickly, her hand moves – not to strike, not to harm, but to touch you. Her fingers brush lightly over the fabric of your sleeve, almost tenderly, before they fall away, and you don’t know if the motion was meant for comfort or something else.

Her breath is ragged, coming in slow, uneven gasps. Her eyes never leave yours. You don’t want them to.

“I don’t know what to do with all of this,” she murmurs, the rawness in her tone shattering any remaining wall between you. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

How do you respond to that? You want her to leave but the thought is unbearable. You want space but she is not close enough. Something inside you stirs, something you can’t fight; a need to understand her and make her understand you. To make her see how tangled this, how impossible it has always been.

Before you can form the word, before you can even think, she moves in closer, and there is no longer distance. She doesn’t ask for permission. She doesn’t hesitate. And then, without warning, her lips are on yours.

It’s soft, tentative at first, as though testing the waters of something neither of you is sure of anymore. But then it shifts. Her body leans into yours, and the kiss deepens, more urgent now, as if this is everything that has not been said and has been at the same time. Your heart races, a million conflicting emotions crashing through you. Anger, betrayal, love – it is all here, you can taste it on her lips. It’s fierce, desperate, and it feels like an endless cycle of need and regret, pulling you both back to something raw, something irretrievable.

Her hands find your waist, gripping tightly as though anchoring herself to something that could pull her under. You instinctively respond, pulling her closer, drawing in the heat of her touch, the scent of her skin, the pressure of her body against yours. For a fleeting second, everything else fades away. There’s no past, no future, only here and now.

And then the fog clears.

You pull back, breathless and worse off. You’ve fucked up again. Alexia is crying.

“I’m not the person you think I am anymore,” you say, but it’s hard to meet her gaze. “I can’t be that person for you.”

Her eyes search yours desperately for lies, for deceit. She wants it to be wrong. She doesn’t know why. And she replies, “I don’t care what you think you’ve become,” because she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to her.

You stare at her, heart pounding, and you want to feel like this will be worth it, but nothing comes except cold emptiness. You force yourself to stay upright. “I think the wedding will be good.” She swallows. “You’ll be happy with Olga. I’m sure of it.”

It’s a death sentence.

This time, it is Alexia who leaves.

…

The wedding is beautiful. Blissful sunlight makes the venue seem to glow and it is hard not to be impressed with how they have set this up.

The model at your side is also beautiful, but you remind yourself it is not a competition. You focus on the whispers of anticipation from the guests, the rustle of the dresses as people pass in merry groups, clinking their glasses and finishing their champagne as they take their seats. Everything looks perfect, plucked from magazines and tasteful brochures. This must be what Alexia wanted.

Your date is occupying herself in conversation with the man seated next to you, who might be hitting on her, though you don’t care. She slides a hand over your thigh anyway.

The ceremony begins, although you’re not really concentrating on it. You try to focus, listening as the officiant speaks, but the words have become a dull hum. It’s all so rehearsed, so expected, and it’s boring. You won’t be getting married anytime soon, that’s for sure.

You know the flow of these things: the vows, the promises, the kiss, and the crowd’s applause. It’s a performance, though it’s not quite a farce.

And then, it comes. The moment. The one that feels like a trap.

The officiant pauses, glancing out over the gathering. “Si algú s'hi oposa, que parli ara o calli per sempre.”

For a heartbeat, time slows. The air thickens. Every muscle in your body tenses and the world around you goes still. You catch yourself holding your breath, gaze instinctively shifting to the woman standing at the front of the altar.

Alexia.

Her eyes flicker briefly in your direction – just a flicker, but it’s there, unmistakable. It’s her moment of hesitation, well masked but clear as day to you. But before you can make sense of it, she’s looking away, eyes fixed back onto Olga. Her expression hardens, more composed now, and you know that you are not going to break this silence.

The officiant, oblivious to the storm passing between you both, waits for a beat longer before continuing, his voice echoing in the silence.

And she’s married.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s over now. You’ve let her win.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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kingdomaddiction · 3 months ago

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I've been thinking in a Cumplane friendship idea.--

You see, everyone seems to believe SQQ and SQH can't stand each other. Quite the opposite, really. When it's only the two of them they don't feel the need to keep up the pretence. It's so easy to relax, to put the mask aside.

They aren't peak lords nor cultivators. They're just two dudes in their mid tweenties trying to survive in this forsaken world.

SY knows he might not be the kindest nor the most loving of friends, (he spent so many years alone in a cold, hospital room, he's not good at socializing) but he does care for Airplane. A lot. He will never say it out loud because it's embarrasing but that stupid author is his best friend.

So, that's why when the news of Qinghua's disappearance finally reach him (two weeks, it took two full weeks before someone decided to tell him--- )they absolutely destroys him.

He seems calm at fisrt. Not truly procesing the news. LBG makes a few comments about something Mobei told him (you fucking knew and didn't tell me, how dare you, husband?! )

Gone, SQH? No, that's dumb. He couldn't be gone. He's a peak lord, he has responsabilities, a bunch of little ones to teach. He even takes care of the north. And most importantly why would he leave Mobei? It makes no sense, not fucking sense.

SQH wouldn't leave like that. He... he wouldn't leave SY behind.

He can feel sob building up in his throat. That... stupid, idiot--HACK AUTHOR!

His crying fit is so strong and sudden that sends LBG and his whole demon staff into a panic.

"Shizun?!" He says looking for visible injuries-

"Don't touch me!" He screams and LBG looks at him with hurt.

"Husband? Have... have this disciple done something wrong?"

SQQ just turns and walks to his chambers ordering LBG not to follow him. His husband is left feeling distressed and cries for very different reasons.

Later that night they talk. SQQ feeling tired and sad finally calls for his husband to comfort him. He explains to him why he is angry at him and LBG apologizes.

"This one thought you hated Shang-shibo and that Shizun wouldn't care about his dissapereance." He says in a small, careful voice. "Mobei jun came to the palace days ago to beg for help in his search... "

"You turned him away... " SY says, sounding very tired.

"Yes. But this husband will make it right, Shizun. I will find your friend for you, promise."

SY sighs and hugs his husband, hiding his face in his chest.

Idk 'm all over the place but the idea is that the system is glitching and took SQH and is kind of keeping him hostage? Like, in between worlds. Not the mordern universe, not PIDW.

I imagine LBG having a very hard time accepting his shizun worries and loves others and not just him (??? why??? I'm more than enough you need NO ONE else shizun). He's too possesive and would like very much just to lock his shizun away, but that would break him and he never wants to see him cry like that ever again. Even if that means he has to share his attention.

MBJ is very broken in this one fiding himself lost without SQH. they had just finally stablished their relationship so he's between angry and scared. Also his trust and loyalty to LBG has taken a blown since he refused to help him find his lover. Didn't he help LBG when everyone turned his back on him as he clinged to his dead shizun's body?

While they work together (before they can even figure out where sqh is) LBG slowly realizes he might have fucked up a bit and ??? misses Mobei ??? are they friends???!!

SY tries his fucking best to keep it together. Really, he loves Binghe but that man can be so dense.

They find where SQH is being kept. The place is like a limbo. Cold, and vast where no time passes. In order to get him back LBG, MBJ and SQQ work together to reforge Xin Mo and travel there. There's a cool fighting montage, tears, hugs and everyone is happy at the end

Yeah that's all i got so far. I'll be going back to work now--

#mobei jun #shang qinghua #svsss #svsss mobei jun #svsss shang qinghua #svsss luo binghe #mxtx svsss #shen yuan #svsss shen qingqiu #svsss shen yuan #bingqiu #moshang #missing qinghua au #king writes #cumplane friendship

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trippinsorrows · 6 months ago

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10 things + r. reigns

authors note: so, a lot of this stems from convos with the lovely @fearlesschimera where one tree hill was brought up. and i loved me some nathan and haley. plus, i'm loving everything about this otc era and needed to write something about it now vs having to wait with my other stories cause we ain't there yet lmao

might be a part two. idk if this even makes sense tbh

words: 3.1k

warnings: none, really? some language? kayfabe story.

There are exactly two sides to Roman Reigns.

The good side and the bad side.

And Nova Reigns has experienced them both with an unfortunate increase in the latter versus the former.

She can pinpoint exactly when it started, too.

When things started to get difficult again.

2020. COVID. While the world was an absolute mess, chaos and death occurring globally every day, her husband of over ten years wasn’t much better. He’d decided to stay home, not wanting to risk bringing home anything that could put her pregnancy with their first daughter, Arabella, Bella as they affectionately called her, at risk.

It was also so he could figure out just what the hell he was doing with his career. Roman was frustrated. Tired of going along with what was always told of him instead of doing it his way. And it’s why when he returned back to work that summer, he came back a completely changed man. Bigger, stronger, meaner.

This was a different Roman Reigns. The likes of which the WWE had never seen.

And it’s been a ride ever since.

Up and downs along the way.

A lot of ups up until WrestleMania 40 where after 1,316 days as the undisputed universal champion and unable to let go of a betrayal from so many years ago, Roman lost. He lost his title and something so much deeper that night.

His sense of self.

Nova did the best she could in the months he’d been off to keep his spirits lifted, to support him, often encouraging Bella to ask her dad to do stuff with her even when Nova technically could. Asked him to care for their two year old daughter, Camillia, Cami, as she worked from home, something she’s done for almost the entirety of her post college career.

But most importantly, Nova worked to help Roman repair the relationship with their oldest son, Roman Jr., RJ, as they’ve called him since the day he was born.

To say the relationship is awful would be an exaggeration. No, it’s just…..fragile.

A fragility that Nova has tried so hard over the past couple of years to strengthen to no avail. A large part of the issue being the fact that her twenty year old son is just as stubborn as his father. Twins, she often calls them. Similar heights, build, personalities, etc.

Great when they want to be. A pain in the ass when they don’t need to be.

A painful situation all around though, especially when she thinks back to how this all started, to how someone like Nova ended up with someone like Roman.

And it’s a simple answer, really.

He was an idiot.

Well, when it came to English, that was.

Once upon a time ago, Roman wasn’t the massive WWE superstar that he is now. He was just Roman Reigns. The typical, popular jock of their high school. A football player with the stereotypical ego to match. And she was just Nova, the geeky underclassmen who always had a secret crush on the boy she never thought in a million years would look her way.

And truth be told, if not for the fact his coach threatened to bench him if he didn’t raise his English grade, he probably never would have. Hell, she’s certain the only reason he knew she existed was because she was the best and smartest kid in class, so of course their teacher would recommend her for a tutor.

The answer was initially no. Not necessarily because she was opposed, but more because her crush on him was too big to not get distracted. Even though his jerkish tendencies should have done just that.

But Roman has always been charismatic and persistent, and before she knew it, she’d agreed. And that agreement changed everything because it showed her for the first time the nice side of Roman, the side that secretly loved music and was surprisingly good at math. The side that struggled with feeling like he’d never be good enough or live up to his family’s athletic reputation both in football and wrestling.

It made her realize and see that Roman was just as human as everyone else.

It made her fall in love with him.

And that was rocky, too. Navigating his constant struggle of wanting to admit his feelings for her while also being embarrassed about her and wanting to hide their relationship. It created a fair set of conflict, and Nova shed her fair share of tears.

Especially as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, plush, purple rug cushioning her bottom but not the blow that was the two lines on the pregnancy test in her hands. But, seven months later, with her mom on one side and Roman on the other, she shed a different set of tears. Different kinds of tears.

Happiness.

Happiness at welcoming her first child into the world, Roman Reigns Jr.

Being teen parents, especially at the tender ages of 16 and 18 was most definitely nothing like it was depicted on the reality shows. It was rough, especially as Roman started college, opting to stay local to help her raise their child as she finished her senior year. They fought, they argued, they disagreed, but at the end of the day, they still loved.

And it was that love that carried them through the rocky years of Roman trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with his life as Nova worked a job and raised their son while pursuing her degree in software engineering. She also stayed local to benefit from the help of her family while chasing her dream. It was rough, it was hard, but they did it.

Even with having to be on food stamps and financial assistance at times to take care of their child, Nova struggling to enter the male dominated workforce of tech and Roman not always having consistent income, they did it.

And they were happy.

They still are. Just….not like it used to be.

Nova still loves her husband with all of her heart and soul. They’ve been through too much together for her to ever really leave him, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t cross her mind from time to time. Especially over the past four years, watching him almost revert back to that bully from high school as he manipulated and mentally abused his family, his cousins, his lifetime best friends so much so that the Bloodline he worked so hard to create crumbled right before him.

And it’s only deteriorated since he lost the title to Cody Rhodes. Solo had turned on Roman, brutally kicked Jimmy out of the Bloodline and invited in non-family. Week after week, taking shot after shot at her husband, his cousin, his flesh and blood.

Going so far as to take the sacred ula fala and declare himself the tribal chief. An honor that was bestowed upon Roman by the elders of his family. It finally reached a point where Roman had enough, making his grand return at SummerSlam and preventing his once enforcer from taking the very title Roman still believes is rightfully is.

He’s made intermittent returns since then, each one proving just why Roman Reigns is being considered one of the greatest of all time, even while still in the middle of his career. His aura is unmatched. The sales don’t lie. The numbers don’t lie.

The OTC is WWE.

But, Roman has been a bit on edge since he was unexpectedly jumped by his other cousin, Jacob, Solo’s latest dangerous addition to the Bloodline.

Nova especially knows he was even more pissed because she’d taken the girls to his show that night, at his request.

He hates looking ‘weak’ in front of him, despite the fact that both were too consumed in kids' devices to pay attention. But, she was. And if anything, it was hard for her to see him be attacked like that, all alone.

No one in his corner.

Jey’s moved to Raw.

Jimmy is still trying to figure out if he even wants to come back.

Solo has lost his damn mind.

Sami…..no comment.

And Paul is still recovering from his brutal assault by the new Bloodline.

The island of relevancy has a population of one. And while that one is formidable as all outdoors, he’s still just a man.

Granted, as much as it pains her to see Roman go at this alone, it’s hard for her to feel all the way bad for him. He did this. His actions drove his family away.

Well, not all of them.

“Game!” Bella’s soft voice pulls Nova from reflecting on memory lane as she redirects her attention to where her son sits on the sofa in Roman’s locker room, Cami on his lap, grabbing his phone.

RJ chuckles, unlocking the iPhone and asking, “what you wanna play?”

Cami gasps and claps her hands. “Cookie!”

“Cookie Kingdom?” RJ asks, clicking around on his phone and handing it to her. “There ya go, lil’ bit.”

Nova’s smile is warm as she reflects on what feels like so long ago. “I remember when you were that little.”

RJ looks up at her, and it never ceases to amaze her how much he looks like his father. Complexion a little deeper, melanin he inherited from her, but outside of that, Roman could never deny paternity.

He sucks his teeth. “Mama, don’t start that.”

“What?” Nova pouts, leaning back into the sofa, Bella tuned out of the conversation as she watches Bluey on her tablet. It’s always a bit funny to her how uninterested these kids just are when it comes to seeing Roman at work.

At least, not until he’s actually in their line of vision.

“You’ll always be my baby.” Because he will. Twenty and over 6ft tall or not, he’s her baby boy. “And speaking of baby, what’s going on with you and that girl you been dating?”

RJ rolls his eyes and adjusts Cami on his lap. He’s so good with his little sisters. “Nothing.”

Nova smirks knowingly, picking up on the faint hit of redness on his cheeks. “Sure don’t seem like nothing.”

“Mama, she’s just a friend.”

“So ya’ll aren’t sexually active?”

RJ turns up his nose, clearly disgusted. “Ma, how you just gon’ ask me that?”

“Because I’m your mama and not ready to be a grandma, and your daddy would kill you if you were to get a girl pregnant halfway through college.”

It’s not missed upon Nova how the mention of Roman seems to completely dampen his mood. RJ rolls his eyes. “Like he cares at all.”

His comment hurts her. Deeply. “RJ….”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

She ignores that apology, wanting to focus on the initial comment that has her stomach knotting for all the wrong reasons. “Your dad loves you, Junior. You have to know that.”

There’s a slight delay in his answer, and that alone is enough to make Nova know she needs to talk to Roman again tonight about actually talking with his son. A below the surface level conversation. A heart to heart.

“I know that, mama. I do. It’s just….” RJ blows out a breath and shakes his head. “You know how he is.”

She does. Very well. “You can say it. He’s an ass sometimes.” She’s so grateful for the headphones on Bella’s ears and the deep infatuation Cami has with her brother’s phone.

“You said it. Not me.” Mother and son share a laugh, RJ admitting, “I know he means well.”

“He does,” she agrees. “But, that doesn’t mean he can’t do better. I’ll talk to him again.”

RJ immediately looks like he feels bad, which only makes Nova’s chest ache more. “You don’t have to—”

She lifts her finger to silence him. “You’re my son. He’s my husband. I love you both, and it kills me to see ya’ll like this. I’m gonna do what I can.” And that’s a vow. The three of them have been through too much shit over the years for her to just allow the relationship between the two most important men to fall apart. She won’t let that happen.

She can’t.

And speaking of, the door to Roman’s locker room opens, her husband walking in looking every bit as strong, powerful, and determined as he looked when he interfered yet again with Solo’s match and especially as he closed the door of that cage and challenged Jacob.

Nova shifts in her seat, the memory bringing up other kinds of feelings which are entirely inappropriate given the presence of her children.

Cami is the first girl to notice him, lifting up her little arms and reaching for him, nearly dropping RJ’s phone in the process if not for his quick reflexes.

He most definitely got that from Roman as well, because Nova has not an athletic bone in her body.

Roman walks over and takes her from RJ, kissing her cheek, gaze almost reluctantly falling on RJ. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Nova starts to scold Roman for such a cold introduction to their son they haven’t seen since he left for his sophomore year of college over a month ago. “Mom asked me to.”

She’s good at reading between the lines, picking up on the fact that he’s essentially saying he’s only here because of Nova.

Not Roman.

Roman notices this, she’s sure. He’s a perceptive bastard. But, he says nothing. “How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“RJ.” And her son can be a petty bastard. Like father, like son. She directs her statement to Roman, “I was thinking we could go to his game tomorrow—”

RJ, however, is quick to dismiss this. “You don’t have to.”

Nova’s gaze on Roman allows her to see the hurt that flashes in his eyes at the rejection. But as has been the case lately, he pushes it aside, replacing it with indifference. “You heard what he said. He doesn’t want us there, so we wo—”

“That’s not what I said.” RJ leans back against the chair and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, clearly frustrated. “You always do this. Always hear what you want to hear.” He scoffs, head turned, muttering, “I see why everybody left you.”

Nova gasps. “RJ!” She sees it, the hurt that’s just tripled and is about to be expressed in anger, leading to another big blowout between the two of them. Thankfully, this is the moment Bella finally becomes aware of Roman’s presence.

“Daddy!” She pulls off her headphones, climbs off the sofa and runs over to him, hugging his legs.

Roman doesn’t hesitate to pick her up, both daughters in his arms as Nova leans over, running her hand through her fresh silk press. This. This is what she wanted to avoid. These are the kinds of situations that leave her in tears as she vents to her therapist about her ever growing stress levels, how torn she feels in what to do in moments like this.

Roman is her husband, but RJ is her son. Neither is fully right, but neither is fully wrong either. How does one handle that?

Thankfully, it’s not long after that Roman is being called to prepare to get back out in the ring. This means a probably needed separation from the two titans in her life. Nova holds Cami this time, while Bella hangs onto RJ as they’re escorted ringside.

It takes a bit of persuasion to get RJ to agree to come with her. She can see he’s ready to just leave.

But, reminding him of how big a help he is with the girls seems to win him over because while he’s certainly not in the best of places with his dad, RJ is a mama’s boy through and through. He loves him some Nova and would do anything to help her.

Even if it means helping her with the two siblings that came as a complete shock to him.

It still makes Nova laugh a little as she recalls the horrified and almost disgusted expression on his face as she and Roman broke the pregnancy news to him.

“I didn’t even know ya’ll still did that.” And if his statement wasn’t bad enough, he just had to add insult to injury as the blunt almost 16 year-old he was at the time. “Ain’t ya’ll kinda old to still be freaking?”

No.

Never that.

“Daddy!” This time it’s Cami who’s calling out to Roman, recognizing his new music before he even emerges from the back looking as badass as he always does. Nova is temporarily in a state of awe, overhearing Bella asking RJ to hold her so she can see better.

Roman has come so far, done so well for himself, even with things with his family being a hot ass mess, there’s still no denying he is it. That he has it. It’s undeniable. She almost feels bad for Cody.

He’ll always be stuck in Roman’s shadow.

The thought makes her suddenly curious about what could be one of the reasons behind the strife between her firstborn and husband. Nova tucks this in the back of her mind, planning to discuss it further in therapy.

As Roman moves into the ring, Nova stands on the sidelines, holding her baby girl on her hip, smiling back and forth between the two. She watches Roman move around the ring on their commercial break

And when his gaze falls on the set of them, her heart swells as he mouths ‘I love you’ before seamlessly transitioning back into that hardened, determined expression.

And this is why there’s two sides to Roman Reigns. The good side being the one that she sees in that brief, vulnerable exchange. The one that used to kiss her pregnant stomach as he confided in her his fears about not being a good dad, about feeling not ready, about worrying about failing in life.

Failing her.

Failing himself.

Failing their child.

The man who worked so hard and gave everything his all to prove he was someone, becoming that someone, yet somehow losing something in the process.

Nova knows it’s still in there though, knows that he is still the boy he fell in love with many moons ago. She knows that as frustrated as he makes her, as cold he can be, as disconnected he can seem, that love is still there and just as strong.

And she’ll fight for it.

For him.

For their son.

For their family.

She has to.

#roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns

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fairykazu · 5 months ago

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AITA FOR BEING COLD TO A STRANGER FOR BEING WEIRD BUT THEY ENDED UP BEING MY CRUSH I LIKED FROM MY CHILDHOOD ??? FT. SCARAMOUCHE ! cw: informal writing, ooc, modern au, plotless ?, crackpost, use of kys/kms jokes, ip address leak (NOT REAL!!! i dont condone this in real life.), brief stan war, etc note: i think scaramouche using reddit for advice is funny. i might use this for a diff character. im reposting this from my other account @kaedehararchives masterlist

scaramouche isn't the type of person to ask for advice. so why is he on the infamous site, reddit? well, he doesn't want to ask people knowing that he has weaknesses so obviously, he's here.

r/amitheasshole ∙ a year ago thehatguy aita for treating someone for being weird? i know how that title sounds but bear with me. i (M17) come from a predominantly rich family that is known internationally. when this person (GN17) came up to me, being all weird, acting like i know them. i was thinking that they were going to use me for connections / money / fame / etc. i didn't want that to slide obviously so i told them (dis)respectfully to fuck off. despite, my warning messages, they kept persistently to be friendly with me. in my personal opinion, i hate clingy people especially when we first met.

i tried my best to be civil with them and ignore / avoid them and their super weird-clingy-cringe advances. but they KEEP thinking we know each other from somewhere. it's getting annoying... and frankly, i did get a tad angry with them. so i pulled some strings and they aren't allowed to talk to me.... well in a class we share.

after typing up a post, he already had gotten a few responses. he wiped right, unlocking his phone, to see the notifications.

replies:

lesbianpirate69 you sound like an asshole

eyepatchwearernumber1 lwk loser behavior lmao thehatguy [OP] who even wears eyepatches? get off my post detectivelover69 nta they prob deserved it thehatguy [OP] thats what im saying

thank god someone agrees with me. he thought. well that was until he kept scrolling. a bunch of people calling him an asshole. typical. but the username "hydronarwhal" caught his eye. stupid reddit user. who even uses this stupid app?

hydronarwhal idk why would u be weird to someone js because they want to be friends with you thehatguy [OP] why wouldn't u be mean to someone who keeps trying to be friends with u hydronarwhal dude i think you have some issues thehatguy [OP] did u read it right? read it again for me hydronarwhal just because ur rich doesnt mean they want ur money bro thehatguy [OP] 192.1xx.x.xx

after this conversation with this guy "hydronarwhal", he had enough of this. clearly, that guy is sick in the head. blocking the account from seeing his post, he went to sleep. well, he will check the comment section after he had a well-rested night.

well, two more won't hurt.

bobaya nah thats weird. i get you on that using people for connections thehatguy [OP] finally, thank you beetlefighter101 wait ur weird asf for leaking someone's ip address thehatguy [OP] that's just the celluar data tower they're using beetlefighter101 what do they use thehatguy [OP] t-mobile hydrowhales0612 can u not? bobaya wait no, op is valid. t-mobile is ass

robinoaknumberonefan this sounds parasocial thehatguy [OP] you cannot be talking? barbaraisbetterthanrobin ROBIN CANT BEAT BARBARA'S PERFECTION robinoaknumberonefan uhh okay, albert. (albert's info) (albert's info) open full thread?

---

is he an idiot for leaving his notifications on for every app? yes. he is because why did his post that he was sure no one would really see due to the flood of aita posts.

[notification: reddit +1] adornthenight are u sure ur giving the full story?

adornthenight are u sure ur giving the full story? thehatguy [OP] duh... why wouldnt i? adornthenight read this then www.reddit.com/r/aita/avidsnoopyfan

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u/avidsnoopyfan my side of aita for treating someone for being weird? hello! im the person in the thehatguy's post. i want to clear things up. he said that i was clingy to him and that i was someone who wanted to use him for money. i reassure you guys that isn't the case. he just looked familiar. someone i held dear to my heart. i know that's bad to project on someone you met. technically you can argue that i couldve seen him from social media but i don't really use any other than pinterest.

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#astronetwrk #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact #gender neutral reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #reddit...#scaramouche x you #scaramouche/reader #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche x reader

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luizd3ad · 5 months ago

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Heyyyyyy :D :D

May I pleaseeeee request ploy!bartylus (that's probably spelt wrong) x reader? (Gn if that's okay!!!!) Like maybe reader it's supper into true crime or something similar but is a little over confident and a little stupid and keeps like kinda-ish-maybe accidently or not accidently seeking out active murders and not telling the boys before they go and like almost die now and then. or something. like anything is fine, I love ur writing so much ur so cool and amazing and thank you for existing please go drink water and have a lil snack that makes u happy and like don't eat a butterfly and idk ur very cool I hope you've had a great week and a good hair day and okay bye bye now um

I Was Just Curious... | Bartylus X Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x Regulus Black x GN! Reader WC: 1,623 CW: Talks of injury, being stabbed, blood loss, serial killers, murders, crime, police, swearing, polyamorous relationships. Author's Note: Omg, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out I've just been so busy lately thank you so much for the request and I hope you like it <3

ALSO HAPPY FUCKING SPOOKY SEASON EVERYONE!!!!

Summary: You cant help that you're curious...

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You were always so surprised that it took muggle police so long to figure out the identities and the patterns of the killers they were investigating.

Honestly it didn't even feel like they were actually trying half the time.

It normally only took you about two days to figure out the identities of the people who were committing these crimes.

Admittedly you did have your magic and what not so that probably did give you what some might consider an ‘unfair’ advantage to the muggle police but that's besides the point.

The point was you liked finding out who these people were, you liked reading what crimes they had committed, obviously not to idolize them but because you were just simply curious.

You were curious as to the why’s and what’s.

Why did they do it? Why those specific people? What drove them to this point? Ect. Ect.

So when you figured out that you could use your magic to find these people, that you could find out who they were. You perhaps got a little too excited.

But who could blame you?

You finally had the chance to have answers to the questions that would flood your mind when you read about the heinous and disgusting acts that they would commit.

So you would find them, confront them. Ask them the questions that would practically drive you mad and then turn them in.

Was it the smartest thing in the world to confront murders and serial killers?

Absolutely not. Not in the slightest.

And your friends and boyfriends would tell how absolutely idiotic it was as often as they could. How they absolutely hated the fact that you were now putting yourself in danger in the name of curiosity.

The thing that bothered your boyfriends the most was that you would never tell anyone when you were going on your little ��suicide missions’ as Barty called them. You would just leave, disappear without a word.

Now most of the time you would come home completely fine once in a while you came home with cuts and bruises, that would absolutely stress Regulus and Barty out to no end, but you never came hurt genuinely injured.

That was until today.

You had confronted a particularly nasty man. He was the worst of the worst at this point.

He didn't appreciate being found out and he had no problem expressing that when he made the choice to come at you with a knife.

Now here you were stumbling into your dark and empty flat that you share with Barty and Regulus clutching to your side as the crimson sticky liquid seeped through your shirt coating your hand.

You had lost a decent amount of blood so you started to feel quite weak and dizzy already, apparating home probably was not the best choice in keeping your strength, but I digress.

You stumbled through the door clutching at your side bumping into the wall knocking over a picture frame glass shattering on the floor. You felt dizzy, weak and Merlin did it hurt like hell.

You were leaning against the wall for support, looking paler by the second slowly losing consciousness as you slowly sunk to the floor as the world around you started to fade into black.

Eventually you had woken up to the sun spilling through the windows your eyes opening to see a white ceiling, the sun only making the white seem brighter. You couldn't help but close your eyes once again or the small wince that fell from your lips at the sudden brightens.

“Oh thank Salazar you're awake.”

You didn't have to look to know it was Regulus as he whispered; he sounded so relieved, so worried and so so exhausted.

You turned your head and opened your eyes meeting the sight of your normally stoic and well put together lover.

Next to him was a sleeping Barty, he was curled up on a chair, his position looking beyond uncomfortable.

They both looked like hell.

They looked exhausted.

“Reg… Where…?”

You tried to speak but your throat hurt feeling so dry.

“Here, drink first.” Regulus helped you sit up slowly.

You had felt a slight dull pain in your side where you had been stabbed. You watched as Regulus poured you a glass of water now realizing just how thirsty you were.

You gladly accepted the glass taking a long drink trying to help soothe your aching throat.

“We’re in St Mungo's, you've been passed out for over a day. Barty and I came home to find you bleeding on the floor… Y/N what in Merlin's name happened?” You had never heard Regulus sound so worried and concerned.

“I- I went to look for the man who's been killing people in London… he got upset that I knew it was him. He came after me…”

Your voice trailed off. You knew Regulus would be upset. He and Barty had told you countless times that you needed to stop but of course you never listened.

The sigh that left Regulus’ lips could only be described as disappointed and frustrated.

“Why? Why do you constantly do this?! We could have lost you Y/N!”

It was rare that Regulus yelled or shouted but he had never yelled at you up until this point.

His yelling had woken Barty up to the sight of a very pissed Regulus and you looking down like a scolded child.

“Oh thank Merlin you're awake, angel.”

Barty took no time to be at your side, completely ignoring Regulus and his scolding look.

Barty tilled your chin up with his fingers kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips softly, he then looked into your eyes with so much love and relief that you almost forgot how mad Regulus was.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling? How's your pain? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine Barty, just a little pain. I’m fine I promise.”

Yours and Bartys attention was pulled away from each other when you heard a small scoff come from Regulus.

“Alright, Black. What's crawled up your ass? Our angel is awake and fine. You should be grateful that they're okay.”

Barty turned and looked at Regulus with a glare. He was clearly getting upset with what he considered Regulus’s ‘unnecessary and bitchy’ attitude.

“Why don't you ask them how they got hurt in the first place?” Regulus’ jaw was clenched a little, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Barty looked back at you a little hesitant and confused (something that was very unBarty-like) he then looked at you with raised eyebrows waiting for you to say something.

You were visibly hesitant and nervous.

“Go on. Tell him Y/N.” Regulus countied not trying to hide that he was still very pissed.

“I went to confront the man who has been murdering people in London. He attacked me.”

“Oh for fucks sake…” Barty mumbled running a hand through his hair. “We told you to stop doing that, Y/N.”

“I know, I know and I'm sorry I- I couldn't help it. I'm just so curious…”

“We understand that but your curiosity isn't worth your life… we can't lose you.”

When you looked up at Regulus as he spoke the last thing you expected to see was the tears brimming in his eyes.

That only made you feel worse.

To see one of the loves of your life with tears in his eyes killed a part of you.

“You can't do this anymore, angel. I had never been so bloody scared in my life. Walking in our home and seeing your lifeless body… I can't ever go through that again. We can't ever go through that again.”

Barty’s words pulled your attention away from Regulus for a moment, your actions finally dawning on you.

You had been stupid. So fucking stupid. You felt terrible.

“I’m sorry. Truly. I won't do it anymore. I'll find another way to cure my curiosity. I- I didn't mean for it all to go this far… to worry you both so much. I feel terrible.”

“I'm not going to say that it's fine because it's not, but we understand. We just can't stand the idea of something happening to you. You mean everything to us. It would ruin us if something happened to you. It's supposed to be the three of us. Forever.”

Barty sat on the hospital bed next to you, his hand resting on yours as he looked at you with love and concern swimming in his eyes. “Regs right, angel. You have to stop these little suicide missions. If me and Reg were only a few more minutes late, who knows what would have happened.”

“You're both right. I'm done. Honest.”

“That's all we ask, amour. We love you too much to see something happen to you.” Regulus sat on the other side of you putting your hand in his and kissing your hand softly, his anger and frustration from before forgotten.

“I love you both so much…”

You whispered as the exhaustion from your body healing and the high amount of emotions caught up to you, slowly you started to fall asleep.

The last thing you felt and heard before sleep consumed you was Barty crawling up next to you wrapping you in his arms and then the soft sound of Regulus chuckling.

You always knew you were lucky. That you were lucky beyond belief.

You had amazing friends and two amazing partners that meant the world to you.

In that moment you had realized that your questions would just have to remain unanswered. That being here with them was so much more important than any answer to any question you could ever have.

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

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False god- Vladimir Makarov

A/N: he's so weirded out by emotions he apologises this way?! my dudes I need a man like that, like yes apologise to me with money

Based on a request:

HERE ME OUT. The lack of attention my babygirl Makarov gets has me crying. But hear me out on my request. Let's say during one of Makarovs mission he came across a certain individual, and it caught Makarovs attention, Makarov told his me to gather information about the individual, after he got the information turns out that reader(the certain individual I'm talking about) has there own task force and is the commander of it. Turns out that reader is oddly similar to Makarov. To similar. And this caught his attention. To test reader he decided to purposely raid her base and make a trap seeing if they could see through it which they did. And it obviously angered them causing them to become enemies, until Makarov decided to try and be Allies with them considering he needs there help on a certain mission and there the right person for it (idk what trope this would be.. probably an enemies to frienenies+ with benifits let's say Makarov had a slight crush on them 🙏🙏match made in hell basically..)

---- F!Reader, romance? fluff? soft!makarov?, established!relationship ----

Secret kisses behind closed doors. His hand was on yours when the room was dark. You and him never meant to be together, at least not in front of others. He failed at two things, meeting you liking you and falling in love with you. Does he regret it, no, definitely not. It's been a while since you have wanted to let everyone know that he is the reason you smile like a fool and tonight, as you met up with him again, the conversation came up.

By the end of it, your eyes filled with tears. "But you have to listen-" "No." You hated how he had to have the last word in that but you'd let him, even if it meant to not voice your emotions for him. Soon later, he told you about some mission he did, his actions were wrong, and you knew that, so you called him out. A man like him will always deny such words and will not want to be confronted with the truth. That is when you two would clash. You were mad, of course, and he was too. So, you end up walking away. "Where are you going?" he follows behind. "I'm not going to entertain your shit-thinking tonight." You say without turning to him. Vladimir stops in his tracks and scoffs. "You're being a baby, R/N." Oh, that was it, no more contact, make him learn his lesson once and for all.

If he really wanted to be better for you like he said months ago, then this is prime time to prove that statement. But he won't do it, not so easily. Hours after the conversation, he went home, waiting for your call but it never came in. He grew worried. You always called him to let him know you were home and safe. Three days go by and he is already anxious and scared. His men watch over you, giving him updates which keep him steady. Day 9 comes by and he can't help but try and reach out...except he stops before dialing your number. No, he isn't weak, he can't be the first to say sorry, that is not who he is.

For fucks sake, he runs a group of strong soldiers, he is meant to be heartless...right? And if he is heartless then why does his heart ache anytime he thinks of you? Why does he get the urge to cry if you don't ever speak to him? God those lips of yours, that voice and the stare. He becomes a madman for you. You are a drug, one he needs to consume. So, for days he plans it all. He will talk to you, a speech he rehearsed which is nothing but the truth. The mirror knows that too. "Sorry...no...there has to be a better way through this," Makarov changed. He was confident in everything but without you there, what is he now?

A mess, this is what has become of him. Damn it, why do you feel so close and still be so far? Idiot, fucking idiot. His office, filled with plans now empty from a clean spree he made while trying to not think of you. He knows you are around, knows you are at base playing a card game with your friends.

Time passes and it is day 12. He hasn't been the same, why the fuck do you affect him like this.

"No, no..." you laugh and he nudges you. Gosh, look at this view. Your legs over his snuggled on the couch as a cheap romance comes on screen. Cliche, all of it but it even makes him excited to experience it. He looks over at you, this is perfect. Your angelic face is complimented by the shades of the screen. He cups your face, "Kiss me, please," Vladimir needs this more than you.

Fuck it. He knocks on your door. It's been 504 hours since he last held you in his arms. Kissed you, smiled because of you, laughed with you, made love to you. 504 hours of pure torture. Everyone at your base was asleep. His heart races as he awaits to see you. Your door opens and you stand there, confused. "Makarov?" Oh yes, say it again, say my name, he thinks.

In his hand, a bouquet of your favourite flowers mixed with money. "I'm an idiot, I know. And...I'm sorry for not apologising sooner, for not acknowledging you calling me out on something I know now was wrong, I'm sorry...I'm sorry for needing you, I'm sorry for crying...but I'm not sorry for loving you," his eyes filled with tears. Fuck does he love you.

You may ask, what made him so emotional? That picture he took of you and him on Christmas. That day, he knew he loved you, he knew that in his miserable life, you were the only and last good thing he could have. That morning, he received the best gift. The first genuine 'I love you' he ever got in his life. You knew then that he was the one. It's why you now have him in your room, kissing him and cuddling him because, for 504 hours, you too missed him.

"I love you, I love you.." Makarov repeated after every kiss he gave your body. You smile and repeat over and over, "I love you too."

And so it goes that the cruel Vladimir Makarov, held the hand of his beloved as they walked down the aisle. Mr. and Mrs. Makarov, what a risky love this will be.

Tags: @rowrowrowyourboat13 @thefragmented @selarus @kielsegur @shotmrmiller @liyanahelena @personwhosucksassatmath @iamashadows-blog @strangepuppynightmare @thesnailus @arialikestea @baldwinhearts @wack2000 @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rvirienner @frazie99 @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts

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wongyuseokie · 2 years ago

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One Trick Peony | c.s.c

Summary: Choi Seungcheol could only do one type of floral arrangement, and the rest he’d pawn off to you, granted he got a ton of orders, but he would always take the orders for arrangements that he could never do. This time he went too far. He took an ‘only peonies’ arrangement–a painfully delicate flower–and took an order for a wedding, and with your luck, you’re the only two florists available that weekend.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ mild angst | ♥ completed works Word Count: 4885 words Pairings: Florist!Choi Seungcheol x Florist! Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, angst, smut, frenemies to lovers, idk if thats the right word they just have a ton of digs at each other but no actual hate.

Content Warnings: Arguing, but it’s all very childish. Cheol being a slight smartass, but Y/N also being a bit mouthy. Idiots to lover makes more sense, both are dense af. Kissing, mentions of food. Inaccurate depictions of being a florist, idk. Loud and noisy kids destroying things. Moment of self doubt.

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do this irl), oral (f receiving), sorta dom! Cheol, rough sex (but its more vanilla), big dick! Cheol, multiple orgasms, squirting, riding, overstimulation, creampie, cum licking, hickies, kissing, phew I think that’s it. Cheol is an after care king.

Authors Note: This has been written for svthub's secret garden collab. Thank you all for letting me be part of this wonderful collab. Please check out the rest of the works written by my talented friends 💕 Banner Credits: @classicscreations

Cross Posted to AO3

You knew hate was a strong word, but that was all you could feel for your coworker, Choi Seungcheol. When Seungcheol first joined the flower shop, you didn’t mind him. You realised he was only capable of making one floral arrangement.

At first, you found it cute. You’d help him, teach him, but after a while, you realised he didn’t even pay attention, and that’s when your pettiness began, and Seungcheol matched it by being extra petty.

“Choi Seungcheol!” You exclaimed, knowing he hated being called by his full name.

“How many times do we have to go over this, Y/N? I don’t like being called by my first name?” Seungcheol complained, and you rolled your eyes at his whining. Seungcheol whined a lot. You’d never admit it, but it was adorable. A grown man who was tall and buff whined like a toddler. Only Seungcheol could be that cute, but he didn’t have to know.

“Why is there an order in the system for a wedding?” You questioned. “You know that we are short-staffed right now.”

“Look. I do, but it’s only a wedding with 80 people, and this lady and her husband waited for their wedding for five years because life kept getting in the way. You wouldn’t deny a couple of that joy, would you?” Seungcheol asked hopefully, grinning widely at you.

“Besides, I told them that the best florist in Seoul was the only choice for their special day,” Seungcheol boasted, and you scoffed.

“Of course I am, but you? You won’t even bother helping. It’ll just be me doing all the work,” you complained.

“I’m an excellent supervisor,” Seungcheol added.

“No, you’re just a pain in my ass,” you mumbled.

“Oh? You know I could help take the pain away,” Seungcheol teased, and you glared at him.

“I will break a flower vase over your pretty head if you even try,” you threatened.

“You think my head is pretty?” Seungcheol asked, and you glared at him again before storming into the back room.

“So, how do you want to get to the venue?” Seungcheol asked you later that evening as you were cleaning up your station. The shop was bustling, and all the arrangements came to you because Seungcheol was incompetent and too busy wooing more customers to buy more flowers without concern for your workload.

“What venue?” You asked, gritting your teeth.

“Ouch? What’s gotten you so huffy?” Seungcheol asked.

“You’re no help, and now you’re here trying to be chatty,” you spat.

“I got you so many orders, though!” Seungcheol protested.

“I didn’t need them. You know I’m busy,” you fired back, and Seungcheol frowned.

“Hey!” A voice interrupted, and you turned to see your manager staring at you and Seungcheol disapprovingly.

“Look, I don’t know if this is a situation of lovers who are too blind to confess, so they just verbally abuse one another? Or if you two hate each other, cut it out, at least for the weekend. This wedding would be huge for this business, and after that, we can discuss a plan or something that involves less interaction with you both, but for two days. I need you to behave. Can you do that?” Your manager asked, and you looked at Seungcheol, who avoided your gaze.

“Yes, I can. I don’t know about her,” Seungcheol said, throwing you a cunning smile.

“Seungcheol,” your manager warned, making him pout.

“You see what I have to put up with?” You complained, and your manager glared at you.

“Two days, just two days, make it work,” your manager pleaded, looking at you and Seungcheol, and you both sighed before nodding and agreeing.

For the sake of your job, you both would make it work.

Choi Seungcheol [7:58 am]: Morning, darling, I’m downstairs. On time, the flowers shall be delivered to the venue. I got you coffee, so please make your way down if you don’t want to get stuck in traffic.

You [7:59 am]: Yeah, I’ll be down.

Choi Seungcheol [8:00 am]: So cold, should have gotten you something warm to drink instead…

Choi Seungcheol [8:01 am]: See you soon, kitten, xoxo.

You let out a groan, kitten? How dare he call you that, and not just because that word had you feeling a certain way, but kitten? Who did he think he was?

You grumbled to yourself, grabbed your duffle bag, and made your way out of your apartment, triple checking to ensure you locked the door four times before heading downstairs to find Seungcheol.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Seungcheol greeted, and you shot him a look.

“Why the nicknames?” You asked.

“I’m trying to be friendly.”

“Well, it’s weird, so stop,” you mumbled.

“Fine, Y/N,” Seungcheol answered with a pout.

“Shall we? It’s a bit of a drive, and I really don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” you offered.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Oh, before I forget, here I put your coffee and some breakfast muffins for snacking,” Seungcheol offered as he pointed to the console.

“This is really kind of you, thank you.”

“See, I can be considerate,” Seungcheol bragged.

“Yeah, one coffee and breakfast muffin won’t change how much of a pain you are at work,” you teased, making Seungcheol pout.

“But you’re off to a good start Choi Seungcheol,” you added, making Seungcheol groan.

“I told you I don’t like my full name being used,” Seungcheol whined.

“Okay, why, though?”

“It feels distant, detached and cold. I feel like I’m being told off,” Seungcheol mumbled.

“To be fair, whenever I use your full name, I am usually telling you off,” you joked, making Seungcheol frown more.

“You can just yell at me. That’s better than full naming me,” Seungcheol offered with a grin.

“You got a degradation kink or something?” You asked.

“No, but I’ll tell you my kinks if you tell me yours,” Seungcheol teased with a grin.

“Shut up.”

You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but the next thing you knew was Seungcheol was gently shaking you awake.

“Hey, Y/N, we’re here,” Seungcheol said softly as you stirred awake.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I fell asleep,” you apologised, knowing you broke a universal law. Do not fall asleep at the passenger seat.

“It’s okay, traffic was light and honestly it was kind of peaceful,” Seungcheol teased and you glared at him. Maybe you didn’t feel that bad.

“Come on let’s check in,” Seungcheol said as you slowly made your way out of the car, grabbed your things and headed towards the hotel.

“I can’t believe our manager gave us a room to share,” you grumbled, as you entered the hotel suite.

“Correction she gave us a suite to share with separate bedrooms, it’s really not that bad,” Seungcheol offered and you pouted.

“Fine, but don’t snore loudly and disturb me,” you mumbled.

“I do not snore!” Seungcheol protested.

“You fell asleep in the shop once and you snored so loudly that you woke yourself up,” you teased making Seungcheol sulk.

“Such a meanie,” Seungcheol pouted.

“You’re adorable when you sulk,” you said with a fond smile making Seungcheol grin at you.

“I’m always adorable,” Seungcheol corrected, and you frowned at him, but you did agree, but you’d never tell him.

“Rise and Shine. I got you breakfast. We need to be the in the ballroom to start the decorations in an hour!” Seungcheol yelled the following day as you entered the living room.

“I’m up,” you whined as you towelled your wet hair.

“Aww, kitten, it’s sunny out. Put a smile on your face otherwise, you’ll ruin the delicate flowers if you’re just angry,” Seungcheol babbled, and you glared at him.

“Hey, how do you know I like this?” You asked as you looked at the plate Seungcheol set up for you.

“Simple, I pay attention,” Seungcheol said with a smile and you felt your heart swell. You never expected him to know so much about you, but it was the same way you knew how he liked his coffee, what his favourite colour was, and his favourite author. You didn’t have to know any of it, but you paid attention too.

“You keep staring at me, quit it,” you muttered as you delicately arranged the peonies into a beautiful centrepiece.

That afternoon you and Seungcheol were busy arranging the ballroom with flowers and making intricate decorations for the reception.

“I can’t help it,” Seungcheol mumbled.

“Why?”

“Well, you look so beautiful doing what you love,” Seungcheol said, making you glare at him.

“Shut up.”

“I can, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I meant what I said,” Seungcheol remarked with a grin.

“You see me working all the time. How come you never compliment me then?” You challenged.

“Because it’s usually in a full shop with other people around, and I don’t know. I only want you to hear the compliments, not everyone else,” Seungcheol offered, making you smile shyly at him.

“Well, thank you, and for what it’s worth, you weren’t too insufferable during this trip,” you offered with a grin.

“I call you beautiful, and you call me mildly tolerable. What does a guy have to do to win your heart?” Seungcheol said dramatically, making you grin.

Little did he know that he didn’t have to do too much.

“Cheol?” You called out from your bedroom, hoping Seungcheol could hear you. You detested cocktail gowns for their design, you could never reach the zipper and always ended up asking for help, and this dress had fancy straps that you couldn’t fasten.

“You hollered?” Seungcheol asked as he entered your bedroom.

“Seungcheol, can you please help me tie this? I promise I’m not trying to be a smartass. I’ve been at this for ten minutes, and I keep screwing up,” You asked as you held the thin strips of your halter with one hand on the back of your neck.

Seungcheol stared at you for a second and nodded, and you turned around so that your back was facing him, and Seungcheol took a deep breath when he saw that your gown was backless, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

You melted in his arms; his toned body felt like heaven against you.

“How tight?” Seungcheol asked, his words making your core throb.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” you responded. You could do the same to him if he wanted to tease you. You bit your lip in an attempt to stop grinning when you heard him curse under his breath as he pulled on the straps.

“Right there?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Use your words,” Seungcheol whispered, his hot breath against your neck.

“Yes, right there,” you breathed out, and Seungcheol complied, tying the knot, and you felt his hands trail down your neck to your bare back, and you had to bite harder on your lip to not whimper at his touch.

“All done,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you turned around, his face mere inches away from yours.

“You look breathtaking,” Seungcheol complimented, making you smile.

“So do you. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the bridesmaids flock to you,” you teased, and Seungcheol shook his head.

“They can flock, but there’s only one girl worth my time,” Seungcheol responded, making you gulp.

“Shall we? We can’t be late,” Seungcheol offered with a grin.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you mumbled. You’d just have to curb your desire for him for now, but once the reception started, you would rile Seungcheol the way he had riled you up.

Your plans were shot to hell the minute you walked into the ballroom, several of your floral arrangements had been destroyed, and you weren’t sure who did it, but you heard the giggles and screams of children in the ballroom and knew you found your culprits.

Now, you weren’t one to yell at children, but when knocked into you, making you knock into another floral arrangement and destroy it, too, you couldn’t help but comment.

“Kids, can you not play here? There are delicate arrangements,” you said as kindly as you could, and apparently, that was all it took for them to start crying.

“Excuse me? How dare you make my children cry?” You heard someone accuse you and turned around to see an angry woman approaching you.

“I didn’t mean to, but they were running around and destroying the floral arrangements,” you mumbled.

“Uptight much? They’re children,” the lady sassed, and you were about to retort when Seungcheol interrupted. You weren’t sure when he showed up, but you were glad he did.

“Ma’am, I apologise that your kids are upset, but really we’re doing our best to ensure the bride and groom are happy. You won’t get blamed for poor floral arrangements, but we will, so please be considerate of that,” Seungcheol responded calmly, and the lady shrank in size and offered a scowl before walking, well stomping out of the hall.

“Jeez, there’s always someone like her everywhere. Come, I’ll fix the arrangements near the front of the hall, and you fix the pieces at the back of the hall?” Seungcheol offered, and you nodded meekly before heading off in that direction.

“Hey, you did a beautiful job,” you complimented as you approached Seungcheol a few minutes later; he was just putting the final touches on a centrepiece.

“Well. I have to. Your hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Seungcheol said.

“You have a delicate touch,” you mumbled.

“I’ve been told I’m good with my hands,” Seungcheol said with a smirk, making you grin and roll your eyes at him.

“I’m glad to see you smile,” Seungcheol said.

“Don’t let what the mother said get to you, okay? She’s just mad that her kids embarrassed her, take pride in your work. I know I do,” Seungcheol said as he leaned closer to place a kiss on your cheek.

“I have to go help the groom find his boutonniere. I’ll see you later?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled fondly at him. You watched him leave, and once he did, you placed your fingers over the spot he just kissed, and you swore you felt it tingle.

Seungcheol really didn’t have to do much to win your heart. He had it. The kiss just sealed the deal.

“Alright, you’ve been pouting since that little kid knocked over that vase. I’m sure that kid feels awful. Will you now just forget it for a bit and enjoy the evening? Why don’t you dance with me?” Seungcheol offered later that evening when he saw you sulking by the bar during the reception.

“I’m not upset about that. It’s just that when his mother called me uptight, I got annoyed,” you admitted, and Seungcheol nodded knowingly as he took a seat next to you at the bar.

“Do you think I’m uptight?” You asked, honestly, you didn’t care for Seungcheol’s opinion, but the alcohol made you extra sensitive, and for some reason, you found yourself seeking comfort in your work enemy.

“Nah. I think you take pride in your work, so when a kid tramples over it, you’re allowed to be upset,” Seungcheol consoled.

“When you say it like that, I sound unreasonable, getting mad at a kid at all,” you trailed off.

“Nah. That kid was getting really annoying. He stomped on my foot a couple of times,” Seungcheol joked, smiling when he saw you return him a brief smile.

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay. It’s okay to be upset, you take pride in your work, and if anyone messes with it, well, it’s fair to be upset,” Seungcheol explained, reiterating his earlier points.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Come on. You shouldn’t be sulking at a wedding. Come dance with me,” Seungcheol offered as he hopped off the barstool and stood in front of you, holding out his hand.

“You? Choi Seungcheol, you’re telling me not to sulk? You’re the king of sulking!” You teased, and Seungcheol grinned.

“Yes, but I look cute doing it,” Seungcheol boasted, making you frown and swat his hand away.

“Go away, Cheol,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t say you don’t look cute when you sulk, it’s painfully adorable, but I like it when you smile more,” Seungcheol clarified.

“Smooth.”

“Very, now, dance with me. You look beautiful, and I recall you telling a customer in the past that you love weddings, so why not enjoy this one?” Seungcheol asked.

“You remember the shit I say?” You were surprised that Seungcheol even recalled that conversation.

“Of course, now come, dance with me,” Seungcheol pushing his outstretched arm towards you, you smiled as you took his hand, and he guided you towards the dance floor.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Seungcheol asked as he started to dance with you, his arms were around your waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.

“Maybe, once.”

“I should say it more, I cannot take my eyes of you,” Seungcheol complimented making you shyly hide your face in his chest.

“Why the sudden flattery?” You ask.

“It’s not sudden, I always try to do the same at work, but you’re usually busy biting, actually you are rightfully biting my head off at work,” Seungcheol corrected making you smile.

“Then why be so annoying?” You asked making him laugh.

“How else do I get your attention?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled at him.

“Okay, I have to know, you sure you don’t like being scolded, like there’s not a hidden sub inside you?” You teased.

“Kitten, this is the second time you’ve asked about my kinks, you sure you don’t want to just find out?” Seungcheol asked, and you leaned up slightly to softly place your lips against his.

“Show me,” you whispered as you pulled away from his lips, and Seungcheol couldn’t get the two of you out of the ballroom quick enough.

The elevator trip and the walk back to the room was very quiet but not awkward, Seungcheol held your hand the entire way, and you were glad because his grip made you feel grounded when you were starting to float on cloud nine.

Once you were inside the room, Seungcheol had you Seungcheol pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back. His lips were even softer than you could have dreamt of. They felt full and plush as they moved against yours.

You melted into the kiss when you felt Seungcheol’s hands move along your body, his fingers pressing into your waist and back, making you moan into the kiss.

“Is that all you got?” you teased, as you mumbled against his lips, and Seungcheol smirked into the kiss as his hands moved up your exposed back, his fingers tracing your bare skin and sliding his hands down to your clothed waist, his hands moving up your stomach resting just below your covered breast.

“More?” Seungcheol asked, moving his lips away from yours to place them on your neck as he started to place soft kisses there, making you whimper at his touch.

“Can I take this off?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded furiously, making him smile; he placed another kiss on your lips and quickly stripped you off your clothes, leaving you only in your panties, leaving your breasts exposed to him.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groaned out, and you smiled shyly at him as he pulled you into his embrace and carried you over to sit you down on the couch. Seungcheol’s lips found your neck as he sucked love bites into your neck, and his hands gently moved down to your hips. Large hands moved to grab your ass, pulling you tight against him; a string of moans and swear words left your mouth as you felt his hard length rub against your clothed pussy.

“Cheol,” you whined out.

“Yes?”

“I need you,” you breathed out, and that’s all Seungcheol needed as he carried you into his bedroom, laid you on the bed, and quickly rid himself of his clothes.

Once naked, Seungcheol crawled between your thighs and groaned when he saw the wet patch on your panties.

“Fuck, let me have a taste, kitten,” Seungcheol said, and you only whimpered, spreading your legs further to accommodate him; Seungcheol moved quickly, pulling your panties off and throwing them across the room.

Once greeted by your bare, glistening pussy Seungcheol knew needed to taste you, and he placed his plump lips on your clit, and started to suck, your hands twisted in his soft hair. You felt him sliding two fingers into your cunt, making you moan at the stretch, it felt so good, and Seungcheol stuck his tongue out, flicking your clit, making your back arch.

Seungcheol smirked against your cunt, as he decided to pick up the pace, moving his fingers more quickly inside you, his mouth never leaving your clit. You kept whimpering and moaning, which only made Seungcheol increase his speed. Your legs shook as you came for him, falling apart on his tongue and finger. Seungcheol groaned as he tasted your cum, smirking, pleased with the results, but he was far from done.

Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your clit to catch his breath, only to latch his lips back to your clit, making you whine in pleasure and pain. Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your clit while his tongue traced and circled the swollen nub. Seungcheol wrapped both his arms around your waist and held you down.

Seungcheol moved his mouth to your pussy, shoved his tongue inside you while his fingers found your clit and started rubbing. Your grip on his hair got tighter, and he groaned at the sensation. Seungcheol’s groans vibrated against your cunt, and you held his hair for some semblance as you fell apart on his tongue.

When he had finally cleaned you up with his tongue, you were shivering and on the precipice of another orgasm. You whimpered, trying to move away from his mouth, you were incredibly sensitive, but Seungcheol wanted to keep going. He wanted you to have a night you’d never forget, so he did and lapped up your release.

“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised as he sat back and admired your pulsating pussy, wet, sticky, and all for him.

“Cheol,” you moaned out.

“Yes, kitten?”

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, to make him smile as he adjusted your position so you were on your hands and knees.

Seungcheol held your hips and slowly pushed himself inside you, and you felt a slight burn at the stretch. It had been so long for you since you had sex, and he was big and thick.

Once Seungcheol realised how you weren’t hissing in pain anymore, and instead, you were moaning and muttering about how good he felt, Seungcheol started to move. He knew he wouldn’t last, not with you clenching around him so tightly. However, Seungcheol thrust into you, his movements hard and deep, eliciting whimpers and moans from you with each movement of his hips.

Seungcheol needed to cum, but not before you, as he set off a steady pace as he fucked you and slowly reached his fingers down to your clit and rubbed at it furiously; the room was filled with your screams and his guttural moans.

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” Seungcheol groaned, gently biting your ear lobe at the same time.

“Inside, me, please, cum inside me,” you begged as he fucked.

“Fuck fuck”, he groaned; a few thrusts later, he suddenly stilled and pulled out of and flipped you over so that you were laying on your back, and Seungcheol took a deep breath as he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist.

Seungcheol’s hard cock rested against your aching cunt; simply seeing his length made you delirious. His length was perfect, it could go deep inside you, and the thickness made you feel as good as when he fucked you. Seungcheol made you so full you had never felt, and you were sure he had ruined you for other men.

You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. Seungcheol pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch. Seungcheol’s hands moved to unwrap your legs, moving them to position them around his neck.

The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt, and he thrust his pace was perfect. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan.

“Baby”, you whimpered.

“Yes?”

“I want to ride you,” you choked out, and Seungcheol had to take a deep breath not to cum right then and there.

You whimpered as he pulled out and adjusted his position so he could lay on the bed and adjusted your position so Seungcheol could lay under you. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you slowly sank onto his length.

You wanted to see Seungcheol fall apart underneath you, you trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You moaned, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt.

“Fuck,” you gasped as he pushed two fingers into you. Seungcheol stood up slightly as he shoved his middle and ring finger into your cunt and hooked them there.

“Scream for me,” Seungcheol said as he vigorously pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt. He used his other hand to press down your pubic bone, holding you still as you thrashed about.

“Do you hear how wet you are?” Seungcheol asked as he kept fingering you. You whimpered in response, fisting the bed sheets between your hands and screaming as you came hard.

“Fuck. I can’t,” you choked out when you noticed he hadn’t stopped his movements.

“Yes, you can. I know you can,” Seungcheol encouraged as he repeated his actions, making you squirt all over his hands.

You whimpered in his grip, pushing his forearm, and Seungcheol smiled as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed out.

“Good?” Seungcheol asked.

“Mhm, very,” you mumbled into his chest, making him smile.

“Noo!” You whined when you felt him move, and Seungcheol swore his heart melted at that moment.

“I need to clean you up,” Seungcheol said.

“No, stay,” you whined making him laugh.

“Please?” You asked and Seungcheol didn’t have the heart to deny you.

“Fine, but not in this bed, it’s a little wet,” Seungcheol teased making you bury your head into his chest more.

“Just hold onto me, and I’ll move you,” Seungcheol said as he carried you off the bed and into your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the bed, and used it as and excuse to quickly slip away and bring back a wet towel and gently clean you up.

“Come here,” you whined holding your hands out for him.

“Adorable,” Seungcheol cooed as he climbed into the bed, holding you in his arms as you both fell asleep.

The following morning you woke up with a dull ache between your thighs, and an empty bed. Before you could worry, you spotted a note on the bed.

I’m outside, waiting for room service, I thought we could do with breakfast, also I took a shower and left a towel out for you too.

-xx Cheol.

You smiled as you read the note, and took his suggestion, and hopped, well hobbled into the shower.

You saw Seungcheol sitting on the couch and staring out the window when you entered the living room, you felt more awake after your shower.

“Morning,” you greeted as you sat down next to him, and Seungcheol immediately turned around to face you, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips.

“Morning,” he mumbled against your lips.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked.

“Sore.”

“I would apologise, but I don’t think you mind, do you?” Seungcheol teased.

“Cheol!”

“Okay, but as a dutiful boyfriend, I’ll make it up to you!” Seungcheol declared.

You didn’t mind Seungcheol being your boyfriend, hell, you loved the idea, but it surprised you, and you were about to respond but a knock on the door stopped you.

It was room service and for a few minutes you couldn’t say much.

Once the servers left the room and Seungcheol ws setting up the plates you decided to speak.

“Cheol. I like kitten.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like as my boyfriend you should know what I like,” you said making him grin.

“I like kitten, darling and sometimes baby,” you added.

“What else do you like?” Seungcheol asked.

“You.”

“Oh? What a coincidence because I also like you.”

#seventeen #seungcheol #scoups #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #svthub #kvanity #thekpopuniverse #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst

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sunsetsover · 1 month ago

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I don't think people say GMMTV is sabotaging FK; the correct word would be neglecting. GMMTV neglects FK, and it is extremely obvious if you pay attention.

idk what exactly prompted this ask bc i made that post like a week ago and from what i can tell it hasn't really got any notes for the past few days and i haven't even been online so maybe this is just something that had been bothering you? idk but. and i don't mean to be rude when i say this! but i must say i don't like the tone of this. i'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it was accidental, but jsyk this came off as very passive aggressive, like im somehow an idiot for not seeing it. and i will tell you that i have definitely seen people accusing gmmtv of sabotaging fkt and thk, which as i said is silly, but yes some do say that! i've seen it with my own two eyes lmao

like literally today i saw someone on twitter saying exactly this bc the gmmtv twt account posted upcoming events for the next week. now mind you! first is LITERALLY on holiday with his family rn, so how (and more importantly why) do they expect him to have events next week? well when someone mentioned that in the replies, their response was just 'well clearly you don't see it the way i do' which ?? what way is that ?? that he's on holiday?? that he can't be in two places at once??? and other people in the replies were like 'well why can't khaotung have solo events!' and it's like ?? idk maybe bc he's at home gaming, hanging out with his sister and playing his instruments ?? maybe it's bc the two of them are CLEARLY on a break and just bc khaotung is still at home doesn't mean he's not RESTING??

and yes i'm mad about that kind of stuff! it comes off as so selfish and spoilt!! and not to make everything about bts but bts have this exact same issue w some fans to the point where armys literally came up w a name for to refer to these kind of fans: mantis (manager+anti). an explanation of what that means from reddit (bc it's better than i could ever explain it): 'Mantis are antis who essentially hide behind “stanning” so much that they themselves feel like they know the group, and their career, better than the group does. These are the fans constantly trying to "protect" them, beyond normal levels. The type to think they are constantly mistreated/tortured by the company and don't get to make any decisions of their own. Also tend to call out other fans "for not being real fans" if they don't join in on the concern.' like literally i read some of stuff some (emphasis on SOME) fkt fans say and it literally is like. i have played these games before!

and listen i'm not gonna pretend i know much of anything abt that company. i'm new here as it is and i really don't pay attention to any other actors or shows or whatever to compare it to so im deffo not the authority in this regard!

but all that said i 1000% get the impression that there are some fans that kinda... infantilise fkt when it comes to their work. like they have no choice or agency and gmmtv are keeping them locked in a basement somewhere. and i do believe that the majority of them mean well (altho i do think a lot of them want/expect way too much from fkt but i'll get to that), but it's almost as if they forget they're grown men who are more than capable of advocating for themselves. i mean fucking hell, was it not them aggressively advocating for themselves for years that got them put on a show together in the first place? first and khaotung are clearly not people who have difficulty going after what they want, esp when together. i've heard that fkt are notoriously picky about which scripts they accept, which doesn't sound to me like people who are really being neglected by their company. neglected actors don't get the luxury of being picky about jobs. neglected actors are lucky to get any jobs.

(and this goes for events and stuff too, which is a common gripe i've seen. in my opinion - and this is just mine! - people who take their acting as seriously as first and khaotung may not want to take loads of events where they're essentially glorified salesmen. and i mean that with no shade bc make that bag always, but as i see it that's all those events are - extra money in their pockets. i can't see how they would do anything for their career really. and doesn't it just make sense that if they're picky abt their jobs that would also extend into events and stuff too? like? i mean ppl are free to disagree w me on this bc this is just my opinion but yknow. i just think ppl make this into a bigger thing than it is)

and funnily enough i also saw a thread on twt the other day abt how fkt are much bigger internationally than they are in thailand. the shows they've opted to do (again, opted, bc they have a choice) are shows that allegedly don't appeal to a domestic market like most other gmmtv shows do. and so, no matter how you or i might feel abt it, from a business pov it makes sense that they might not be getting the opportunities some other actors might be getting if there simply just isn't demand for it domestically. which sucks, but if that's how it is, that's how it is.

and don't get me wrong i completely get viciously advocating for your faves ok? im an army. for half of bts' career fans were all they had. but sometimes that advocacy becomes a) kinda ridiculously demanding given the context and b) almost condescending. or very condescending sometimes. this goes for bts and fkt both. and while it's all well and good wanting things for them, all i'm saying is let's not forget that they are grown men who are not new to this business. not to mention the fact they have a known track record of advocating for themselves, or the fact that they enough scripts coming their way to be able to be picky, or the fact that already have a new show lined up. first has two even! and a show currently airing! and a cameo that just aired like last week! and another one we know is coming! like my god these are not men who are hurting for work rn.

and in my humble opinion, coming to learn about this industry relatively recently, i think ppl expect too much from these actors overall. i think a lot of them - fkt included - work a hell of a fucking lot actually. i think demanding much more is just selfishness. if im honest. like yes it's nice to see them doing events and stuff. but it's not necessary. and i'll be honest! would i like more interviews and magazines and things like that? sure! but like i said if the demand isn't there, neither will the offers be. that's just the reality of what it is! i'm not going to be sending trucks about it lmfao

the bottom line is this: i'm not saying gmmtv do or don't neglect them. i don't have enough information to have a strong enough opinion one way or the other. but from the outside looking in they seem to be doing just fine. they've got work. they've seemingly got money. and like i said, they're grown men. this is their careers. if they have issues with one thing or another, i trust that they will address those issues as they see fit between themselves and their company. until the day that first and/or khaotung themselves express unhappiness or discontentment, i will take them at face value and believe that they're happy w the way things are. bc literally who tf am i to tell them they should be doing anything different?

#ask #anon #once again not to make everything about bangtan. but i truly have played these games before. i know what this is.#and tbh. i feel like i get a very different impression of fkt than most ppl seem to. bc to me they seem perfectly happy as they are #they clearly value quality over quantity. as they should.#and they're introverted! they probably dont WANT to be doing events every 5 minutes! so they simply dont!#i just personally feel like the majority of issues fans seem to have are not actually issues but likely choices fkt make themselves #which goes back to my post. having wants for them is not the issue i have. its the way its expressed. it's condescending and rude.#but alas. im just a girl on the internet.#also im so sorry anon i didn't mean to lay this all on you ! i just have been holding this in for a Minute lmfao

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jevilowo · 2 months ago

Text

It's me the timeline guy. Here are my many lore related grievances with the comic:

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT tho most people have probably read it by now lol

FIRST OF ALL, the Administrator's plan. What happened to "plan so disturbing that several US senators pardoned her for the Poopy Joe incident?" What even was her plan actually was it just to keep the fighting going forever? Then what was the point of Australiummaxxing after Redmond and Blutarch died?

What's up with Zepheniah’s hooked up corpse. Isn't his ghost still around? He certainly is by the seventh scream fortress comic, which takes place during MvM. His will says he won't rest until he's done being mad at the world idk how that relates to anything.

OH HORSEMANN MY HORSEMANN. Why is Zepheniah claiming to be an only child? And it's not a retcon bc later on Soldier pulls up the family photo WITH SILAS IN IT. Where did he even get that. Anyways. The only explanation is either 1) some in-universe attempt by Zepheniah to write Silas out of history (implied by the two copies of the quarterly concern, one seen in a hidden page in the classless update and the other in the background of the Engineer update), or 2) ...i was going to say Silas was actually his cousin or something but that wouldn't make sense if the siblings of Zepheniah’s dad all died young. Urgh. I hoped the Horsemann would return and put to rest the implications dragged up by scream fortress two but alas twas not to be.

What's with the 3 different covers of a young Administrator? My theory is they're supposed to represent three possible backstories the writers were cooking and wouldn't commit to. Who knows.

CHARLES DARLING. The triplets' birth certificate claimed that their mother was a Darling (save me Bette Mann etc etc), and that had me convinced Charles was going to be at least RELEVANT. Why else would he, a joke antagonist introduced in the War! Comic, show up at all? Looking for Australium, no less? I tell you that flashback of him and Maxton had me CONVINCED something would happen. Especially with the two of them lowkey treating him like shit.

So so so much Admin stuff left unexplained. Seeing her child self in the Australium. The census dated back to 1850 with "HELEN" on it. Telling Engie "your family has already done so much for me". By that she could have just meanth Radigan making an immortality machine for Redmond as well as Blutarch I guess, but ??? I liked the Emily reference tho that was something one of the artists reffered to her as for the Engie Update Comic by mistake and later took back so neat callback lmao.

SPEAKING OF RADIGAN. Nothing on who the third Australium machine went to. Presumably Admin I guess? Not explained, never will be probably.

Who was the person in the torn Mann Family portrait? My main theory was always either an earlier version/design of Grey or a Darling, but in the picture Soldier shows (SERIOUSLY WHERE DID HE GET THAT) we can't even see the outline of a person around his thumb. It almost looks like they just made a version of the picture without anyone in the middle and called it a day.

TFI having other mercenary groups came out of fucking nowhere, even in comic six. The T and F presumably stand for "Team Fortress", fuck you mean "Team Citadel", "Team Vanguard", giant fucking statue of random epic looking mercs??? What is happening. They did NOT explain that shit at all. Multiple, seemingly incredibly competent teams are NOT "eighteen perfect idiots". Did Poopy Joe die for nothing.

One of the top posts I've ever made is the one where I point out the date Spy and Scout got arrested on that newspaper: September 7th, 1972. This means the rest of the comics should take place 5½ months later i.e. February/March 1973. Ergo, 1979 could not be "seven years later". The comics seem to think themselves that they're set in 1972 already, there's a few lines about it but for the life of me I can't remember. Something something however many years since Zepheniah died blah blah year the triplets were born. Whatever. It's on my timeline probably.

Smaller thing, but embarrassing lack of a full name reveal for Heavy (I originally said And Medic here but. Herbert Ludwig was revealed). Spy also, but I wasn't really expecting that. Heavy shall remain Mikhail "Mischa" Weponzgy in my heart.

SO IN CONCLUSION: the writers went in with no clue how to end the story, something made evident by the possibility of the 4chan leaks being an early script and also entirely fucking different.

Still, there were a lot of lore unrelated things I did enjoy: the fact that the mercs actually got a happy ending, for one thing. Sniper stealing a plane, Scout maturing and moving on from Pauling, Pyro literally just being overjoyed to see Engie again, babies!!! The fact we even got a comic! How crazy is that? At least we didn't have to wait another seven years.

I might draft a script for an alternate ending that tries to answer lore stuff more, but knowing me I wouldn't finish it. Still, I am working on making a website for my timeline and I'll upload the link here once I'm done with it. Oh and I'll update the doc version soon. Bitterly.

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jeonqkooks · 2 years ago

Text

kyoho | ksj

You love your grape boy, and your grape boy... well, he might just love you a little too much.

pairing: seokjin x f!reader

rating: pg13

genre/warnings: established relationship, swearing bc when is there no swearing in my fics, mentions of seggs, suggestive themes, fluff, crack?? idk, my brand of fics is Unedited y'all know that's how we roll

word count: 1.8k

notes: i've been buying a lot of grapes lately (am i a grape person now??) and i've been eating them almost every day and of course i had to think about grape jinnie my beloved, my ultimate favorite seokjin and i want him to come back to me :((( idk that's how this lil thang came to me lmao it's the most crackhead shit i've ever written sOoOoOoOo please laugh or else ! 👿 jk but not really

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"If you do this, we're done."

"Y/N."

"I swear, if you go through with this, we are over!"

Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly not expecting you to be so passionate about the subject at hand. "The appointment is in an hour," he says.

"Cancel it. I don't care!" you cry. "Please don't do this. Don't take him away. He means the world to me."

Your boyfriend stares at you, mouth agape, then points to his head incredulously. "Him? My hair?"

"Yes!" You crawl over to his side of the couch to straddle his lap, actual tears welling in your eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and silky it feels in your hands. His gorgeous, gorgeous purple locks. The ones he's ready to sacrifice in favor of half blond, half red hair by demand of one Jeon Jungkook.

You shouldn't be this upset over him dyeing his hair, but you are, despite knowing full well that the purple will be gone soon anyway. His dark roots are starting to show already.

It's shark week, and there are not enough words in the dictionary to express how devastated you are that he's taking away your emotional support Grape Jinnie.

A couple months ago, when he told you that he'd be dyeing his hair purple, you were highly skeptical of the decision. You didn't know if he had the face to pull off purple of all colors, even though you had already seen him sport every other color of the rainbow and absolutely rocked every single one.

The whole week leading up to his salon appointment, you teased him endlessly - started calling him Grape Boy, bought him box after box of Kyoho grapes, photoshopping Kylie Jenner's purple hair onto his head and making it your lockscreen... It was mostly just grape puns, you were really milking that whole thing.

But then he came home, hair freshly bleached and colored, and your jaw dropped to the ground and stayed there for ten whole minutes.

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets from how good he looked.

No, he didn't just look good. He was stunning, breathtaking, mindbogglingly beautiful and all the other synonyms that one could name.

The man fucking ate and left no crumbs.

That night was one of the best sex you two have ever had.

To say that you were obsessed with this shade on him is the understatement of the year.

"Don't do it," you plead. "If you really love me, you won't do it."

"You're being so dramatic. It's just hair." Seokjin puts his hands on your waist while you keep yours on his head, clutching his strands like a lifeline. "Plus, I have to honor the bet!"

Your expression turns stony then, as your eyes travel from the silky purple down to his face. You tighten your grip on his hair and tug on it sharply until your boyfriend is scowling in discomfort.

The bet. The stupid fucking bet he made with Jungkook.

You had explicitly told him there no chance in hell that he could win, but Seokjin could be an overly confident asshole sometimes.

He was in way over his head, and now you're the one suffering.

"You idiot," you hiss, pulling on his hair again, "why the fuck did you think you could do more pushups than Jungkook?"

"I don't know! We were tipsy and it seemed possible at the time!"

Releasing his hair, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

"Why am I being punished for your actions?" you mumble against his skin, then you ask, voice full of futile hope. "What if you just... don't do it?"

"Then I have to buy him a new mattress. He cut his mattress with scissors to make it fit into his bed frame and now it's all fucked up."

You give yourself a minute to think. There has to be a solution to your distress. You just gotta think. Think, brain, think!

And then you remember. Seokjin is still a man.

You lean back to look at him properly, straightening your position on his lap. You give him your biggest puppy dog eyes before you say, "I promise I will blow you every day from now on if you keep the hair."

If he was drinking water, you're fairly certain that he would've choked. Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise, his skin turning a dozen shades warmer, blushing from his cheeks all the way to the top of his ears.

Bingo.

"What?" he asks, like this is something so scandalous.

You lean forward to pepper kisses all over his face, putting more weight on your offer. "I promise," you say, pecking his cute cheek, "to blow you," then his forehead, "every single day," then his nose, "from now on," and finally his lips.

You linger near his mouth, not pulling away just yet. Your lips brush against his once more until you feel his hands tighten on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you press forward, giving him a proper kiss to seal the deal.

Seokjin practically melts underneath you. Victory is so close that you can taste it. You're doing this for the greater good of mankind, for Grape Jinnie. Jungkook can fuck off with his half seasoned, half fried bullshit.

But then, Seokjin abruptly rips away from you to shriek, nearly blowing your eardrums out. The suddenness of his movements almost make you tumble off the couch.

"No, don't try to tempt me! Mattresses are expensive as fuck!"

It's been a few hours. He should be back any minute now.

Ever since Seokjin left to go to his hair appointment after having to peel you off of him because you were clinging to his body like a goddamn koala, you've been wallowing in your misery. You even busted out the big guns - Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream (with real peanut butter cups!) - to help you through this difficult time.

You're in full grieving mode now. Goddamnit. Fate is a cruel mistress.

Or in this case, Jungkook. Jungkook is a cruel mistress. That fucking guy.

When you hear the door open and the subsequent clanging of Seokjin's keys as he hangs them on one of the hooks in the entryway, you prepare to give him the biggest pout you can manage.

But then, he comes into view a few seconds later, and you gasp. You actually gasp. Before he knows what's happening, you're rising from the couch and sprinting toward him, launching into his arms with the biggest smile on your face like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You're still a grape!" you squeal joyously.

Seokjin lets out a surprise Oof! at the sudden force of your body knocking the breath out of him.

"What a warm welcome," he mutters. "I don't think you've ever been this happy to see me."

"What happened?!" you ask, eyes wide, grin even wider. "Did you change your mind because you love me so much?"

You run your hands through his hair to make sure that it's real, that you're not hallucinating this because you just love the purple so goddamn much.

And it is! It's still here! His hair is still that luscious shade of purple that you adore with your entire being.

Seokjin eyes you for a moment before he says, "I compromised with Jungkook. Did something else instead."

"What did you do?"

"I got a tattoo."

"You what?!"

"He said I wouldn't have to dye my hair if I got a tattoo of his choosing."

"Oh, no," you try to sound sympathetic but fail miserably. You cover your mouth with your hand to hide your smile, already sensing the absolute crackhead chaos that will ensue in a matter of minutes. Having been friends with Jungkook for years, you know that dude comes up with the craziest shit sometimes.

Seokjin turns around and pulls up his shirt, and you almost die from the fit of ugly snorting laughter that immediately rips itself free from your mouth. His skin underneath the transparent cling film is still slightly red, but the letters adorning the expanse of his lower back is clear as day.

You cannot find it in yourself to blink, not when the black ink is just staring at you like that. The font, so formal and classic, and yet the content of it... what a contrast.

"Kim Seokjin!" you wheeze, wiping tears from your eyes and struggling to catch your breath. "How could you possibly think that this is a better idea than to just dye your hair!"

"You begged me to keep the hair!"

"I did," you agree, clutching your stomach as giggles continue wracking through your whole body. It's almost painful at this point. "But I don't want my boyfriend to have a tramp stamp that says fucking Chicken in Times New Roman!"

"It was either this," he says, turning back to face you, "or a sketch of his head on a chicken's body."

"What is up with him and chickens? Is that his new thing now?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"Well, thank you for doing that for me," you say appreciatively as you pull him in for a kiss, which isn't very graceful because you're still tittering the whole time. "But please tell me that's not permanent."

Seokjin stays quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor, and you stop laughing immediately.

"Oh my god," you say. "Is the Chicken tramp stamp permanent?!"

"No," he finally admits after a moment of hanging it over your head. As funny as the whole thing is, you do not want the love of your life to walk around sporting the most ridiculous tattoo in human history. "It's supposed to fade after a month."

You lean into him again, heaving a giant sigh of relief and wrapping your arms around his neck. One of your hands go for his hair again, weaving through the soft locks with your fingers because how could you not? "I love you, Grape," you say, pecking his cheek with a grin.

Seokjin rolls his eyes affectionately, but returns a peck to your own cheek. "I have a tramp stamp of the word Chicken and my parents might disown me for that, but at least you get to keep your Grape Boy," he says, making you giggle again.

"Because you love me so much, right?"

"Hmm. You're lucky I do."

You give him another kiss, one full of gratitude, for indulging your antics. When you move to return to the couch, Seokjin tugs on your wrist, pulling you back into him.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," he says, acting all coy and shit, "but I recall you making me a promise earlier, no? What was it again?"

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wachtelspinat · 1 year ago

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Hey ! I’ve been seeing your art going around since your midnight crew stuff and I just recently stubble across your tumblr, thank to your beautiful overwatch art for our beloveds junkers ! I’ve been scrolling through your account and read about your experience of being a former graphic designer who is a doctor now. And damn. I can’t emphasize how much I admire you, especially as someone who is struggling really hard to choose between 2 careers paths ( with one of them being art related ). This is why I was wondering if you would be open to talk about how and why you switched from art to medecine ? Especially because most of the time I feel it happens more the other way around ? ( If it’s too personal just ignore this ask + sorry if you already talked about it before )

hey ! no worries, i don't expect ppl to scroll through my tumblr to find an answer for a question they might have. first of all thanks for your nice words, means a lot <3

i switched from art to medicine because my early 20-something-self was even more anxiety-ridden than my present-self, and being in art school and having to "perform" regularly was a nightmare. i'm talking about a time in which i was so scared of being perceived that i often skipped grocery shopping, just so i could avoid being around people. so like, pitching art related projects to peers and profs was eeh... especially because art is so personal oh my god. i still hate it when someone tries to sneak a peek while i'm drawing, makes me wanna throw my sketchbook and myself off the bridge. anyways so i always felt a 110% inadequate (plus i got a gf during that time who was so good to me and tried to get me out of my funk on multiple occasions (she was and still is an artist and has now a career as a freelancer and i'm rly proud of her) but i couldn't see that because i just compared the two of us all the time and sabotaged any attempt she made for having fun with drawing with her) that i sat down at some point and asked myself if i could do this any longer, and i came to the conclusion that no, it really kills me rn.

what made me go into the health sector? i don't even know anymore, i think it was a mixture of "i loved biology, esp. the human body in school" and "my mum is an icu nurse and talks a lot about hospitals, maybe i should check it out"... it was not a well thought through decision, which is so funny because studying medicine was a hell of a meatgrinder ride (also my anxiety and self hatred? still there, but now i wasn't judged anymore because of my art but instead being called a dumb idiot collectively with all the other students because nobody likes med students) and for some reason i was able to get through that despite it not being my passion at all, but i couldn't stand up for myself in art school. i don't even know if i could work through it nowadays, but the good thing is i don't have to ask myself this question anymore, because being a doctor pays the bills, and ever since i left art school i was able to just draw without consequence. which is nice to a degree, my artistic output is not tied to the means of generating money. on the other hand... idk, in another life with more confidence and less worries, i'd love to be some sort of character designer T_T

so yeah that's basically it. at some times i cherished my career decisions, at other times i regretted them deeply, worst thing is i know it has a lot to do with personality, but the fact that we can't change who we are with a blink of an eye gives me the framework to think that the path i took was ok. as in. things happened for a reason and maybe i'm just not cut out for that kind of work. you have to be aware of the conditions of a job to decide if you are up for it. because being an artist doesn't end with "just draw". i myself had an unrealistic view of the job back then too. and the fact that i could not seperate between personal aspects and "doing a job here" was crucial.

yeah, idk if this is helpful at all. i think the one thing that is super important here is to have a realistic view on the conditions of work you are about to head into, and i know this is mostly very difficult to aquire. because unless you really work in a sector there is often no way to fully grasp the situations you can find yourself in (this applied for me also in the health sector, which made me fall into a depression a year ago, but what do you do after you spent 6 years of studying :') ). doing internships and just trying to get to know a lot of things really helps. and - idk how old you are, but if you're really young: it's ok to switch careers at some point. it's even ok to do so when you are older (trying to end on a positive note here because it feels like i just said a lot of depressing things... like don't get me wrong i like my job, the conditions are just fucked up, and again my personality prevents me from switching again but it's also not that easy in germany, BUT it's a valid thing to do, being versatile is good! just... make sure you don't end up with a job that you absolutely hate because that kills it all)

#LONG #sorry #i'm rambling #being an adult is hard and it never ends being a work in progress

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orchideous-nox · 6 months ago

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what kind of books/movies do you see everyone reading/watching???

I love yapping about books and films, anon, how did you know?

Okay AHHHHHHH so many thoughts. I'm going to include modern films though

Remus - I think he loves Lord of the Rings (both the films and the books) and some Greek Mythology classics like The Odyssey and The Iliad

Sirius - Boy doesn't read. What's a book? Films though, I think he likes a good action film. Maybe something like Bullet Train with some comedy in there, or like John Wicke and he spends who whole time like "Keanu looks so good in a suit, don't you think?" and stares until you agree.

James - James says that he likes films like Blade Runner, but when he's home alone he's watching Krrish. I could see him being into Star War too. In terms of books, I think he prefers non-fiction or maybe like a sci-fi book, idk too much about those.

Peter - As a kid, he was reading Goosebumps like there was no tomorrow and loved the Swiss Family Robinson. I think he'd also like Star Wars with James and maybe Indiana Jones. I could see him enjoying Stand By Me and The Goonies as well, he's be really into classic 80s movies.

Lily - Anne of Green Gables all the way. I think she got called Pippi Longstocking when she was younger and has refused to have anything to do with it since. Lily would love the tv show Anne with an E. I think she likes watching the LotR films with Remus because she loves the women but would complain that they don't have enough to do. She's also a lover of Wuthering Heights, I feel. And The Princess Bride.

Mary - OUR ROMCOM QUEEEENNN!!! Her favourites are Clueless, The Notebook, The Proposal and whenever she watches Love Actually she gets irrationally angry at Harry before he's even done anything to hurt Karen, it's just a vibe. She reads those smutty romance books with the cartoon covers, but also loves Janes Austen like Emma and Pride and Prejudice. She's also into Eve Babitz and Joan Didion I feel.

Marlene - She reads a lot of biographies and autobiographies. One time someone caught them reading Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter and they hated all men for two weeks, even James who she was normally friends with. I think films...I want to say Bend it Like Beckham but that feels so obvious. She can also recite a lot of The Devil Wears Prada but that's their girlfriend's fault. Marlene could probably be a horror film buff? That seems kinda fun.

Dorcas - Like I just mentioned, The Devil Wears Prada. I think she also likes period romances like the 2005 Pride and Prejudice and Atonement. She'll also watched Bend it Like Beckham...and there is absolutely no link between those three films that would explain why she likes them. In terms of books, I think she would enjoy some Stephen King, her and Marlene have a joint love for The Shining and Carrie.

Pandora - I've been thinking about this and I think Pandora would be a big fan of Guillermo Del Toro's film Pan's Labyrinth. Maybe also The Dark Crystal? In terms of books, I think she let Marlene borrow her copy The Bloody Chamber but she also likes Maya Angelou.

Regulus - Motherfucker is so pretentious. He is reading Russian novels and glares at anyone who calls him out for it. I think if Regulus watching films, he's watching very deep and thoughtful films, ones that either aren't particularly popular but are good for discussion. I couldn't name one though so 🙃

Barty - No.

Evan - I think he could be into horror novels or like psychological thrillers. The first one that came to mind was I'm Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid, but I think he could fuck with The Picture of Dorian Gray which doesn't fit the same vibe but it makes since to me I think. Also medical journals and books about the human body. I've said previously that I think Evan would really like films like Martyrs and The Idiots and I stand by that. Maybe also Un Chien Andalou.

Xenophilius - I mentioned earlier in this post that I think Xeno fucks with folk stories so that's what he'd be reading. Maybe like a classic dystopian such as 1984? I am struggling with films though, I genuinely have no idea.

#marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #xenophilius lovegood

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lycankeyy · 2 months ago

Text

if you'll have me

Grins so big and wide like that one cat gif. BF number three everyone give it up for BF number three /silly. I'm actually not super confident in how I wrote YS here but whatever it's passable I think. Brayden tiem,,,

BFs in this one-shot: brayden (wildfire!bf, mine), ys (yourself/hs!bf, @ochrearia), boyf (fc!bf, mine) briefly

Note: Yourself isn't referred to by name for most of this and Boyf isn't for all of it. Lol. Also mild tw for like. Loosely implied suicidal ideation. Idk it's there BDKWHDJ

To say the past few days or so had been weird would be an understatement. It wasn't every day you had someone walk in through your mirror, let alone have that happen twice, though to be fair, Brayden had seen weirder.

He was a fairly solitary person, outside of his day job. Gina had pretty much been his only friend outside of Nene, who he only got to talk to on rare occasions anyway. He'd only met back up with Pico and Darnell recently, and while they'd been kind to him, they weren't exactly on speaking terms, in his eyes.

Brayden had also, as previously mentioned, dealt with all sorts of weird shit. Shapeshifting aliens, zombies, shapeshifting supervillains unrelated to the shapeshifting aliens, weird shit from other timelines. So the first time he saw some lanky, kind of off-putting dude on the other side of the mirror, and that guy that proceeded to attempt to speak to him, he didn't hesitate.

To be fair, this was the first time in a while his "shoot first, ask questions later" mentality ended up doing more harm than good.

He wasn't even necessarily talking about the guy who came in later. There's a lot in the way someone reacts to pain being inflicted upon them that tells you about their intentions. And from this other him's reaction, his intrusion wasn't at all malicious.

Brayden felt a lot in those weird few seconds that the other him hobbled off back wherever he came from before he could even process the thought to rectify what he'd just done. Not that a guy would want to have their wound dressed by the guy that just shot them, but it was the thought that counted. Or something.

There wasn't a lot to do after the fact other than feel guilty. Good going, idiot, you shot a complete fucking innocent. There goes your good record. You sure as shit aren't seeing the pearly gates now, fuckwad. And so on and so forth. He didn't even have work the next day due to the Dearests going on a brief vacation, so he had a whole thirty-six hours to mope into his pack of cigarettes.

And then this second fucking guy showed up.

It was yet another him (he called this one Phoney), little shorter than the other guy but a lot taller than him, and with a scar a lot like his own, but on the opposite side of his face. This guy made it immediately clear that the other guy was close to him, and, well, he didn't intend to let the whole shooting him in the leg thing go unanswered.

Aiming to be useful in these increasingly odd circumstances, Brayden very graciously offered Phoney his gun to shoot him in retaliation with. For whatever reason, the guy didn't accept it. Even looked a little disturbed that he offered. The nerve of some people.

That apparent social blunder sort of shut Phoney down all together. He'd clearly come over looking for a fight, but by that point, he almost looked like he pitied him.

Pitied was a pretty horrible thing to be. It was like the gross, moldy leftovers of love. He never understood the appeal.

Anyway, eventually that guy left, having gotten over whatever he came there for. Or something. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure what the guy was hoping to gain if he didn't want to shoot him in the fucking leg like Brayden had the other guy. Whatever. At least he wouldn't have to explain to his boss why he had a hole in his thigh. Just why his smoker's cough got a little worse over the weekend.

That was until about two days later, when he was trying to pass out after his usual shift of "protecting" Gina, and he was visited yet again by one of these... mirrorwalking... clone... guys.

Surprisingly, it was the taller one. Visibly not at peak performance, because duh, and Brayden was thinking that he probably shouldn't be standing. So he said so. "You shouldn't be walking on that yet."

Not-Brayden shrugged, and while the pain wasn't one that could be easily hidden, Brayden could tell he was doing his absolute damndest to try. "Brothers say so, too. Doesn't hurt that bad, though."

Brayden blinked. "You've got some nuts, coming back after that," he said, and while other people might see that as a threat, it was actually a completely genuine compliment from him. Not that he wouldn't do the same thing in that situation, he just knew that wasn't exactly normal.

"I could tell you didn't mean it," he said, still remarkably casual. For as much of an act as he was willing to put up, he finally gave in to the urge to sit down on the bed, something it seemed he was completely unwilling to do until either Brayden gave him permission to do so or his leg finally gave out under him - he hadn't noticed the first option fast enough for the second not to come to pass. "Thought I'd drop by so you could get it off your chest. I wouldn't have kept you hanging for so long if I could have helped it."

Again, that was a weird ass statement. If it was from, like, Mr. Dearest or something, he'd see it as some sort of weird ego trip, basically telling someone you knew they wanted to apologize for something.

But maybe it was something about this guy's clearly slightly supernatural appearance, or the fact that he looked so similar to him, but he just kind of knew what he meant. And that was that, somehow, he'd been able to tell. Tell that he'd been sitting here in his pathetic little guilt puddle for days.

And obviously, that was a little mortifying. That isn't the kind of thought spiral you want other people knowing about. Kinda harshed the cool, rugged hitman vibe that he had going on.

Looking at him, though, it was impossible to deny that, yeah, that was exactly what had been going on, and he did feel awful, and he was sorry. He was really sorry.

"I just thought you were a shapeshifter or something. Better safe than sorry," he explained - but, damn it, wasn't that just an excuse? His trainer had always told him he made too many excuses. "... but I guess I'm pretty sorry now. So. Sorry."

Not-Brayden gave him a lopsided grin, clearly nonplussed about all this. "It's fine. It was bound to happen one of these times anyway, the amount of people I've scared the shit out of."

"You do this sort of thing a lot?" Brayden asked, tilting his head like a dog. Yeah, that was kind of a miracle. Before the other him could even respond, he continued absentmindedly, "is that where that other guy that looked like me came from? You just some squad of other me's?"

"Pretty much," he replied, almost looking grateful he caught on so quickly. Brayden briefly wondered how cushy the others' lives must be to not get it in two total seconds, before he realized that he was probably the weird one. "I can pick up on when other versions of me need support, so I do what I can."

At that, maybe to incidentally prove his point of being a weirdo, Brayden practically coughed out a laugh. "Good luck helpin' me, man. You're looking at Philly's lost cause numero uno." And he was proud of that, too. You know how many people were at rock bottom in this city? Because it was depressing.

If you asked him, he wouldn't be sure why he said that. It wasn't exactly a dick measuring contest, and if anything, he'd just be repelling one of the few things he'd wanted this whole time. But he said it, and amazingly, the other him didn't seem too fazed.

Maybe if he was the taddest bit smarter, he'd be able to tell that it was because that sort of thinking, as well as his unshaking belief in it, was the exact reason he'd been drawn to him in the first place.

"Either way," he continued casually, "it's more about you than me. As long as you want me around, I'm here. If you don't..." He gestured vaguely back to the bathroom, concerning the mirror. "Up to you."

Brayden felt like his brain stopped working.

What... what was he supposed to say in response to that? He wasn't sure he'd ever made a friend willingly in his entire fucking life. People just adopted him off the street like a stray cat. Was he even allowed to want this?? Like, externally?? Was he allowed to say, yeah, dude, I am so unbelievably fucking lonely, please for the love of god, I don't know what I did to deserve this but I have decided in the last five seconds that I would die for you?

"Will your friend be okay with that?" He blurted out, before realizing that bordered on incoherent without further context. "The other... me's, like, you all talk, right? One was here the other day and he was pissed, they all must hate me, right?"

The other him screwed up his face a little, looking behind him. He'd definitely considered it, and he definitely cared, but he looked like he was trying to convince himself to stop doing so. "They'll get over it. They're mad for my sake, and I don't want them to be mad." After a moment, he shrugged again. "Most of them hated me at first, anyway. Something to bond over, I guess."

Something clicked in Brayden's brain. Given how this guy talked about the other them’s... when he mentioned brothers earlier, he wasn't talking about the biological kind. Those other them’s were this guy's family. And he wasn't just being invited to some weird interdimensional BF mafia, he was being invited to a fucking family unit. Out of nowhere.

That wasn't... right. He hadn't done anything to deserve that. His parents were about the best he deserved in the first place, and they'd practically abandoned him when he was fifteen. He barely had a job. He didn't have a house. He had two friends, total. His life was essentially meaningless and over already at age nineteen. What the fuck was this? An anime plot??

Why couldn't he just outright say no???

"Are you..." He trailed off, the words starting to come out before they were even fully formed in his mind. "Are you sure you want me? I shot you damn near point-blank with an assault pistol, man. You're lucky you even still have two legs. There has to be someone better."

He only got the same frustrating, and somehow much more terrifying answer. "It isn't about me."

Brayden had learned a lot in his short life. One of those things was when to switch tactics. Clearly, avoiding it wasn't working. Time to break out ol' reliable. "... yeah, alright." He sighed, then tried for a smug grin. "Can't wait to see how shit this goes."

"That's the spirit," Not-Brayden said, almost completely deadpan if it weren't for the slight, almost undetectable comedic lilt to his tone.

There were a few moments of silence. Brayden wasn't exactly sure what to do now. What were you supposed to do after you made friends with someone? Hug them? Show them your rare Littlest Pet Shop collection? Introduce them to your parents??

The awkward air was cut by the other him saying something abruptly. "You can call me Yourself, by the way."

Brayden looked at him for a moment, processing that sentence, before asking, with complete sincerity, "are you sure you're not an evil shapeshifter guy?"

A pause.

"... eh...?"

#💛#rgbfverse #wildfire!bf #eternal i dont really proofread the rgbfverse fics warning LMAO

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