#I've had this in my drafts for weeks lol

[sunlightpassingthroughthewater]

The Beautiful

   The Beautiful are a group of anti-Thalmor rebels, who originated in a salon in Alinor by the same name.

   Initially, they were a group of philosophers and scholars who took umbrage with Summerset’s cultural stagnation and its xenophobia, they wished for a more modern and egalitarian society – at least by Altmeri standards at the time.

   Its members have had many conflicting ideas on how best to bring about this change, some more violent than others. Notably they were responsible for the destruction of The Crystal Tower and the assassination of the king of Shimmerine’s daughter during the end of the 3rd era.

   The group have changed significantly in the approx. 200 years since its founding, having absorbed many other groups with similar grievances into their ranks – most notably, the Welkynar, a group of gryphon riding knights that were disbanded by the Thalmor after they rose to power in 4E 22. Due to the inclusion of the Welkynar, it isn’t uncommon for the members of the Beautiful to take on names derived from famous gryphons from history as aliases. The leader of the Beautiful is only known by the name Cel-hinwe, a name derived from the first gryphon to ever be tamed by the Altmer.   

   In modern times, the Beautiful has become more organised and solidified in their goal, and for the first time in its history, has begun to look beyond the borders of Summerset for allies. This has proven difficult as most don’t even know they exist, or if they do, they dismiss them as nothing but a group of disaffected nobility playing at rebellion.

Characters:

Quenanya Adallaireon (Nagravia):

Lived the first 13 years of her life in Cheydinhal with her parents, her father was a Cyrodiilic-born Altmer and an adventurer and her mother was an artist from a noble Summerset family. After her father's death, her mother took her to live with her family in Auridon. The Adallaireon's were a politically powerful clan on the isles, with her grandfather being a member of the Thalmor council, a fact that Quenanya would later use to her advantage when working for the Beautiful and undercover as a Justiciar. Is married to Caliathmo, much to the displeasure of her family due to his seemingly commoner background.

Caliathmo Culaari (Haeliata):

Caliathmo's father was a battlemage in the Imperial Legion when Summerset was still part of the Empire. He now lives a quiet life as a fisherman in a small village on Auridon, where Caliathmo and his younger brother, Tilaandil, were born. Their mother came from Clan Culaari, a family whose lands were seized, and the clan destroyed following the Thalmor's rise to power due to their loyalty to the Empire. Both of Caliathmo's parents were members of The Beautiful, a fact that strongly influenced his own involvement. Caliathmo eventually works undercover for The Beautiful while posing as a Thalmor agent.

Tilaandil Culaari (Sunnawel):

Caliathmo's younger brother. Tilaandil wouldn't get involved with the Beautiful until later in life - when he got drafted into the Great War as a soldier - where he would use his connections in the thieves guild to aid the resistance. Is in a relationship with Orthorn.

Orthorn (Quillmane):

Orthorn came from a working class family. His parents worked for a noble family who would sponsor Orthorn's education, a fact that would allow him to become a professor of Archaeology - with a focus on the Ayleids. He uses his knowledge to aid the Beautiful in stopping the Thalmor from getting their hands on powerful Ayleid artefacts.

Mirithiel (Silaeda):

Mirithiel never knew her birth parents, all she knows is that one of them was an Altmer and the other a Bosmer. She was raised in Valenwood's capital, Grahtwood. She is a talented healer and alchemist, she was recruited to the Beautiful by Cel-Hinwe themselves after she, not knowing who they were, helped them evade capture by the Thalmor.

[nuclearanomaly]

Spite Loves...

[hey-hey-j]

this is me suddenly remembering that Lisi has uncles on both sides

(★ my Kofi)

[akuma-ren]

Fifty steps.

[anishenanigans]

even more of these things!! stay strong lmk fandom.. hiatus is almost over we're in the home stretch now.

prev parts: x | x | x | x

[jokerfic]

2 bits of news for the crush/jerome valeska/fox gotham fans

first, barring death, taxes, or a complete crisis of productivity, I'll start posting the sequel to Crush at some point in December, it's called I'm Your Man and it's on track to be over twice the length of Crush

second, I've found faces for both isabel and jane

devyn garcia for isabel

kathryn newton for jane

more to come soon!

[scarlet-witchery]

Hi Leinth! I hope you are well?

I have some wintery Gallavich questions if you are interested but no worries if not?

- who is more likely to wrap themselves up in a blanket cocoon when it gets cold?

- they’ve encountered some mistletoe, who kisses who and how OTT does it get?

- who makes the better snow angel/snow demon/snow whatever shape?

- how do they decorate their illegal ambulance for Christmas?

Waiting until December to answer these because I'm just like that :p

Mickey probably gets way colder and bundles up (just remember his big puffy coat) and Ian runs like a furnace (which is hilarious for someone who used to be such a scrawny bean)

Ian obviously takes advantage of the mistletoe to kiss his husband, even while Mickey is protesting and Debbie is taking a ton of pictures on her phone as Ian dips Mickey back dramatically

they're both absolutely terrible at making snow people but they make one of each other and laugh at how awful they look (Mickey puts the longest carrot in the fridge where Ian's dick goes on his snowman version of Ian)

they probably don't decorate the outside but Ian might put some colorful lights up on the inside in the back, and Mickey grumbles about it the entire time (but he doesn't completely hate it)...

[karoiseka]

A secret rendezvous. <3

[askthepaldeanpassenger]

(Previous) (Next)

"That makes sense! I once taught a few older children, but they were not very interested in my lessons. It was not until more recently I found myself an excellent student willing to learn."

Maria giggles to herself with a paw raised. She sits next to Cherry to continue their conversation.

"I have not taught in an institution, necessarily. I am like a... teacher-maid, in a sense. It is complicated... Nevertheless, I am responsible for teaching, among other things, a child of a large family. He is certainly much younger than any of your students, so I'm not certain I have many tips that would be of use...!"

The Umbreon pauses and thinks to herself for a moment.

Maria: "It is much different when you teach someone that you spend a lot of time with otherwise. Quite a unique scenario! Even so, I find it very fulfilling. How do you feel about teaching? What have you found most enjoyable?"

@harmonia-university

[queenerdloser]

literally hyperfocused so much i spent about seven hours getting a semi-polished draft of my statement of purpose completed. jesus christ??? weeks of farting around with it and one day of actual work that got it to a state that's shareable and like 85% completed... yes that IS so typical of my work habits lmao.

[coffeebanana]

I love rewriting. I love it love it love it (even though i sometimes avoid it) because nothing's more satisfying than turning something that's just not quite right, something that just doesn't quite work for you, into something you LOVE

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[changeling-droneco]

Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled

First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but

This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.

Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.

YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD

I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)

First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?

This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???

Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.

The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR

This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management

A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though

Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.

I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.

Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative

Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!

Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!

In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL

Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!

My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"

I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders

Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.

I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY

Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful

Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company

Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK

We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.

I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.

Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN

First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"

Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?

If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE

Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes

"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."

First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.

"What is the goal of our content?

To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."

That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign

"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"

Gross

"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."

Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors

"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."

It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.

"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.

How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."

If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd

"It’s okay for the boys to be childish

If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"

More favoritism

"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"

Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.

"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."

I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man

[leclerc-hs]

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xii

part eleven - part thirteen

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ your life turns upside down when the worst thing happens. Charles takes this as his cue to make amends but lando doesn't appreciate any of it.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ sorry but not really but you have to love a little chaos <3 also, I don't like how this turned out but that's because I've had to redo it twenty times today because tumblrs a little bitch and won't let me safe stuff that's in my drafts so I hope you enjoy it 💀

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, milliexoxo and 763,679 others

y/nusername week 12. 🇬🇧

view all 1,452 comment's

oscarpastry the bracelets 😭

norrizz still not over zoë and lando their little fistbump before the race 🥺

↳ norry4 that's his lucky charm for sure

mclaren our boys! 🧡

notrell my girl is looking fire but there's no simping lando in sight :(

charles_leclerc ma princesse ❤️

↳ chilisainz I know this is probably about zoe but something tells me this is about y/n too 💀

yukisan no you're right, he's got y/n on his mind as well 🤡

chilisainz that's probably why lando has been shooting daggers at Charles the last couple of days lol

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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

[bangtanbeom]

'*•.¸undeniably yours¸.•*'

pairing: beomgyu x femreader genre: fluff, strangers to friends to ....? , college AU, slow burn summary: you and beomgyu are partnered for a group project, the connection starts off as simple friendship. but as you share quiet moments, unspoken glances, and moments of vulnerability, the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur. w/c: ~4k warnings: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor a/n: its been 10 years since i last wrote something (which was on wattpad) and actually published lol so many drafts ;-; so bear with me. i usually don't write fluff, i always leaned more to angst or smut yet here i am. i hope it's a little bit enjoyable <3

it wasn't love at first sight.

there were no sparks flying across the room, no fireworks, no swelling background music with flower petals twirling and glitters shimmering.

just a tuesday morning lecture, and a pair of tired eyes locking briefly across the room before looking back down at a notebook.

"i've assigned the partners already," the professor said, tapping his laptop. "check your emails."

you opened yours with a sigh, not expecting much. then paused.

partner: choi beomgyu

"huh?"

beomgyu? that guy who always sat in the third row by the window? who always wore those oversized hoodies, and had a habit of twirling his pen when he was deep in thought?

beomgyu. that guy with the soft brown eyes and the eternal bedhead. the one who always had a half-smile playing on his lips as your eyes met. you'd shared a few classes before, exchanged nods and awkward hellos in group discussions, but never really talked.

until now.

you agreed to meet at a nearby cafe the next day—neutral territory. the project was due in 15 weeks, and neither of them wanted to be the partner who slacked off. you arrived first and chose a small table by the window. you heard the soft jingle of the door and looked up just in time to see beomgyu walk in, ruffling his hair and looking around until his eyes landed on you.

he offered you a small wave, walking over with a grin. "hey."

"hey, beomgyu." you returned, sending him a kind smile.

"that's me." he slid into the chair across from you. "sorry if i'm late. i had to rescue my hoodie from my roommate's dog. he thinks it's his now."

you laughed before you could stop yourself. "did you win the battle?"

"barely. this is a peace offering," he said, holding up a slightly crumpled banana milk. "also, i brought you one. it's not coffee, but it's got charm."

you blinked, surprised. "you brought me one?"

"figured i should start off as a decent partner," he said with a casual shrug. "if you hate banana milk, i'll take it back and cry about it later."

"i like it," you chuckled softly and sent him a smile. "thanks."

your first meeting was mostly small talk and note-sharing. beomgyu was surprisingly organized, though he admitted he did most of his work at 2 a.m.

"that's when i'm the most powerful." he said with a mock serious face, earning a laugh from you.

both of you got to work quickly—organizing tasks, dividing responsibilities, setting deadlines. it was professional. efficient. but something about the way beomgyu spoke—soft and easy, laced with dry humor—made you feel oddly comfortable.

he wasn't trying hard. he didn't have to.

but what struck you the most was how easily he listened as much as he talked. he wasn't just nodding along. he remembered things, like how you preferred tea over coffee, or that you hated typing on your laptop without music playing.

by the end of that first meeting, you'd laughed more than you had all week. that was the first moment you realized he wasn't what you expected. not just the class clown or the guy who wore headphones walking down the hallway.

thoughtful, a little odd and disarming in a weirdly comforting way.

the collaboration soon settled into a comfortable rhythm. study sessions alternated between the library, the cafe, and occasionally, each other's homes. each meeting, their conversations began to drift beyond the confines of their project.

both sitting on the floor of beomgyu's living room, while his roommate was away and surrounded by open books and notes, beomgyu strummed his guitar absentmindedly.

"you play?" you asked, nodding towards the instrument.

he glanced up, a sheepish smile on his face. "a little. it's more of a hobby."

"can i hear something?"

he hesitated for a moment, his fingers softly grazing the strings. "alright, but no judging."

you nodded and his fingers danced over the strings, producing a soft melody that filled the room. you watched, captivated by the way he immersed himself in the music. as the final note lingered, she clapped softly.

"wow," you said under your breath, afraid to break the silence. "that was beautiful."

beomgyu's ears turned pink, luckily for him, his hair covered most of his ears. "thanks. it's just something i do to unwind."

"do you write your own songs?"

"sometimes," he admitted. "mostly when i can't sleep."

you leaned forward, intrigued. "i'd love to hear one sometime."

he met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "maybe one day."

"so, tell me something weird about you." beomgyu said as he was scrolling uninterestedly through his phone.

beomgyu was sitting on the couch, leaning with his back against the arm rest and his feet resting on your lap.

you looked up from your phone, turning your head to him as you raised an eyebrow. "weird how?"

he shrugged casually, putting his phone down, meeting your gaze. "like... you eat cereal with water, or you sing to your houseplants. something unexpected."

you grinned. "okay. i have this very serious superstition that i have to wear mismatched socks on exam days."

beomgyu blinked. "you... what?"

"they bring me luck!" you quickly defended yourself, but couldn't help but laugh a little.

"that's extremely specific. i like it." he said, his fingers touching his chin as he nodded.

"your turn," you challenged.

he thought for a moment. "sometimes i talk to my laundry."

you frowned your eyebrows before you burst out laughing. "your laundry?"

"yeah, like if i'm folding a shirt and it refuses to cooperate, i'll scold them, or just yell at them."

you clutched your stomach, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "you are—wow." before you could finish your sentence, you began to laugh even harder.

he was now reenacting the scene.

"i'm never looking at laundry the same again." you said, trying to stop yourself from laughing.

beomgyu was effortlessly funny, the kind of person who could make you laugh without even trying. he'd mimic professors, come up with ridiculous nicknames, or read lines from their textbook in dramatic accents just to see you smile.

"wait, you've never watched spirited away?" beomgyu asked one evening, scandalized. "we need to fix that. immediately."

"i just never got around to it," you defended. "you're making it sound like i committed a crime."

"you kind of did." he grinned. "movie night. right now."

you rolled your eyes, but your lips slowly curved into a smile, betraying you. "fine. but i'm picking snacks."

the group project finished early. neither of you mentioned it, but you kept meeting up anyway.

it was the little things that began to chip away at the wall around your heart. the way he'd always wait for you outside class, even when it wasn't necessary.

how he remembered your favorite drink and brought it to study sessions without asking. the way he looked at you when you laughed—like you were something he'd been waiting to see bloom.

and it was how he didn't rush it.

even when your fingers brushed for a second too long, or when you stood closer than necessary, or when the silence stretched a little too comfortable—beomgyu never pushed.

he just let it happen, slowly, unforced, easy.

after a particularly grueling study session, both of you decided to take a break. the city lights shimmered as you wandered through the quiet streets, hands tucked into both of your pockets as the hot summer came to an end and the rainy fall was approaching.

"do you ever feel like you're going through the motions?" beomgyu asked, his breath visible in the cold air.

you glanced at him, surprised by the sudden introspection. "sometimes. university can feel like that. but then there are moments that remind me why i'm here."

"like what?"

you thought for a moment. "like this. walking through the city, just talking. it makes everything feel... real."

he smiled softly. "yeah..."

you walk in silence for a while, the distance between you two narrowing with each step. his shoulder brushed yours once, then again, but neither of you moved away.

you found yourself on beomgyu’s couch as the rain pattered against the window, a classic film playing on the tv. you curled up with a blanket, while beomgyu sat beside you, your shoulders touching.

the room smelled faintly of buttered popcorn and cinnamon tea.

beomgyu had taken over the popcorn bowl, cradling it like some priceless artifact in his lap. he was deeply focused on it. more so than the movie, picking through the pieces like a kid separating marshmallows from cereal.

you arched a brow. "are you seriously removing all the unpopped kernels?"

beomgyu didn't even glance up. "yes. they're a menace. one wrong bite and it's over. i have sensitive molars."

you laughed and shook your head slightly. "you're so dramatic."

"i'm a victim of snack sabotage," he said with a solemn nod. "you wouldn't understand."

he looked up then— eyes shining, lips curled in that typical lazy grin of his—and you blinked, caught off guard by how different he looked like that, handsome even. like summer even though it was raining. like something warm even though the windows fogged with the cold.

you shook your head and grabbed a handful of popcorn from his 'safe pile.'

"thief," he accused, his lips slightly parted as his eyes followed your hand full of his popcorn.

"you owe me for picking the movie," you said casually through a mouthful.

"which, by the way, was way too sad." he responded witty , looking down at his safe pile that was looking much smaller now, a pout growing on his lips.

"hey. you voted for it!" you said defensively.

"i was tricked."

"you literally said—and i quote—'that one has cool vibes.'"

beomgyu gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "i did not sound like that."

"oh you did."

the laughter bounced around the room like the rain outside, soft and constant. the movie flickered on, mostly forgotten now, serving as a backdrop to something that felt... safe.

beomgyu leaned back on the couch, stretching until his arm rested casually along the back, his fingers inches from your shoulder. not touching. almost.

you pretended to focus on the screen, but you couldn't help but notice how close he was. how normal it felt.

how not-normal that normal felt.

when did it become this easy to be around him? when did he start looking like that?

beomgyu glanced over at you just then, mid-thought, and you caught him. his hand twitched like he might move it closer—then didn't

he grinned instead. "you've got popcorn salt on your cheek."

you blinked. "i do not."

"you do."

you tried wiping your face with the back of your hand.

"nope, other side."

you tried again. he squinted dramatically.

"closer," he teased. "warmer... almost... oh no. now it's smeared."

"seriously?"

he leaned in then, brushing his thumb lightly across your cheekbone. just a second. just enough.

"got it."

you froze. not from the touch, exactly—but from how something about it lodged itself under your ribs and stayed there.

that shouldn't have felt like anything, you told yourself.

but it had.

beomgyu didn't move away immediately. he looked at you, eyes scanning like he was trying to solve a puzzle. like he was trying to read you.

he wasn't smiling anymore, not really. it wasn't serious, but it wasn't just playful anymore.

why do i keep noticing the way she looks at me? why does her laugh sound like something i want to hear first thing in the morning?

that moment hung there—brief, silent, almost something.

the you grabbed a pillow and whacked him, maybe a little too hard.

"okay that was dramatic. you made it a whole moment."

he barked out a laugh, delighted, instantly recovering, his head tilted to the side. "i was being helpful! you're lucky i didn't use a napkin like an old man."

you narrowed your eyes. "you definitely would've done the whole spit-on-the-thumb thing, huh?"

beomgyu gasped. "do i look like a mom at a school drop-off?"

you looked him up and down pointedly. "you do own a cardigan that says otherwise."

he placed a hand to his chest, fake-offended. "that cardigan is a fashion statement."

"it's a threat to society."

he snatched a handful of popcorn and launched a piece at you. it bounced of your blanket.

"you're just jealous," he muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you wish you looked that cozy."

"i do look cozy," you said smugly, hugging the bowl to your chest now like it was a trophy. "and now this popcorn's mine."

"oh you think i'm gonna let that slide?" he said inching closer.

you tightened your grip. "don't test me."

your eyes locked in mock-serious challenge. then, without warning, beomgyu lunged. both wrestling over the bowl like two kids at a sleepover, laughing so hard, barely holding it together.

limbs tangled, the blanket twisted, and somewhere in the chaos, your hand ended up resting against his chest, and his leg slid beside yours, warm and solid.

both of you froze—not on purpose, but as if something instinctual told you this was different. the laughter trailed off in small, breathless remnants, but neither of you moved right away.

you looked up, realizing how close you were. his hair was a little messy now. he was smiling—but softer. not his usual teasing, lazy grin.

your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his hoodie before you pulled them back.

beomgyu didn't say anything. he just shifted onto his elbow, resting his head in his hand, watching you as you sat up and set the popcorn down beside the couch.

the room was still. not awkward nor heavy. just full of something unspoken.

you turned towards the screen, tucking your legs underneath you again.

"you're not so bad for a popcorn snob." you said lightly, not looking at him.

"thanks," he replied, his voice softer now. "you're not so bad for a popcorn thief."

the both of you sat in silence again, this time more aware of it. more aware of each other.

it was supposed to be a quick study session. an hour, maybe two. just enough to finalize the concept sketches and finish your part of the layout. you'd done most of the work already—beomgyu had helped a lot more than you expected him to, even stayed up late editing the small mistakes you made when you were too tired to keep your eyes open.

so when he texted you that afternoon—

"you free to review the last presentation slides? i promise i'll bring snacks + my charming presence."

—you'd rolled your eyes and typed short yes.

unfortunately, the rainy season wasn't over yet. today the rain started like a whisper, then turned into a roar.

it poured down so hard, you could barely see the street from your window.

thirty minutes later, he was standing in your doorway,

drenched.

like fully soaked. hair flat. hoodie sticking to his arms. his sneakers squelched when he stepped inside.

he looked half amused, half miserable.

you blinked, your eyes traveling over him from head to toe. "did you walk here?"

beomgyu nodded, blinking rain from his lashes. "i was halfway when the sky opened up."

"why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

"i was trying to be dramatic."

you stared at him.

he smiled sheepishly. "also... i forgot."

you sighed, shaking your head, already turning to grab a towel.

he wasn't planning on getting caught in a storm, but maybe, deep down, he wanted an excuse to stay longer.

the professor gave the class another project, but you both finished it, mostly.

but that wasn't the reason he'd wanted to come over.

he liked your apartment. the plants in teacups. the art prints taped to the walls instead of framed. your weird little snack drawer organized by mood. it all felt warm, like you lived in comfort space, like you weren't trying to impress anyone.

and he liked your company, though he was still figuring out what to do with those thoughts about you that kept popping occasionally.

he liked the way your mind worked. the way you made things feel calm yet entertaining.

so yeah, he walked through the storm. and maybe he didn't care.

"guess i'm stranded." he said as you returned, holding a towel and a worn grey sweatshirt in your arms.

you tossed both at his chest.

"you're lucky i'm nice." you muttered, turning around, back to the living room.

he caught the sweatshirt midair and laughed, peeling off his soaked hoodie. "no, i'm lucky it's you."

you didn't answer him. you didn't want to read too much into it. beomgyu said things like that. he flirted for fun.

but your heart noticed.

he also didn't usually look at you like that.

you tried to ignore the way your heart sped up when he pulled your sweatshirt over his head. it looked better on him than it did on you, of course. and something about seeing him in it made the room feel smaller. closer.

you turned away and focused on making tea.

the rain hadn't stopped. it got heavier.

by that time, you both ended up on the couch under the blankets, the storm had turned the apartment into a little cave—safe, warm, cut off from everything else.

the tea steamed gently on the table. the movie played, but neither of you were paying attention. you sat shoulder to shoulder, legs tucked up, knees barely touching.

and still, you could feel him. every little shift. every glance.

you saw him look at you once. then again. and a third time.

"hey," he said, eyes on the screen, voice barely above a whisper.

you turned your head slightly. "hm?"

"i'm really glad we got partnered together." he said referring to early spring.

he wasn't sure why he said it. but he did.

thump, thump.

you weren't sure why your heart was speaking before your mind could process everything.

maybe for him, it was because the rain softened everything. maybe it was because the blanket was warm and you were warm and something about being near you made everything easier.

but he meant it.

he didn't look at you, his gaze still glued to the tv. still, he felt you turn slightly towards you.

"me too," you said, and there was a smile.

that did something to his chest, a tiny smile growing on his face.

"you know, i used to think you were kind of quiet," he said, trying to keep his tone light. you raised a brow. "but you're actually... kind of weird."

you elbowed him softly. "what... thanks, i guess?"

beomgyu grinned. "no like... you say weird stuff. the thing with your mismatched socks, talking to your plants like they're your babies. your enormous snacks collection based on your mood. but it's cool. it's interesting."

you didn't say anything, more like not knowing what to say. so you just looked at him.

your eyes, soft, kind. more than words ever could.

"your sweatshirt smells like you," he murmured, completely out of nowhere. "like laundry and cinnamon."

your heart flipped.

"that was almost romantic," you teased, pretending to be unbothered by your heart, almost jumping out of your ribcage.

he reached for his tea, brushing your hand in the process. sipping from his mug, his eyebrows dancing. "almost?"

"try harder next time."

he laughed, but his heart stuttered, ‘next time?’ he thought to himself. why did i even say that. hiding his thoughts behind a smile.

from his perspective, you didn't seem to mind, you didn't make it weird. thankfully

the thunder cracked louder now, rattling the windowpane.

you checked the forecast on your phone and frowned. "yeah you're not going anywhere."

beomgyu looked up from where he had flopped dramatically across your couch, his hair still slightly damp and sticking to his forehead.

"tragic," he said, voice dry. "guess i'll have to endure your tea and fluffy blankets a little longer."

you gave him a look. "endure?"

he looked at you with his usual playful grin, hugging a throw pillow like it was a long-lost pet. "okay, luxuriate inn. happy?"

"ecstatic," you said, tossing him a second pillow to the face.

he caught it swiftly and immediately started building a pillow wall between you. "this is for my safety."

"from what?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

"you. you're feisty when sleep-deprived. remember your mood last week."

"you literally tried to eat expired instant noodles last week."

"and i survived, didn't i?" he said proudly and had a smug smirk on his face.

"barely."

"i am a man of mystery. i live on the edge."

"you live on convenience store snacks." you said and rolled your eyes. you pushed yourself off from the couch and his attention was now on you.

"you want me to grab something to sleep in?" you asked, voice soft with sleep.

he gave you a thumbs up from under the pillow fortress.

you came back with a pajama pants covered in tiny frogs, dropping it on his lap.

beomgyu's eyes lit up as he noticed the frogs. "i bet i'll still look handsome in this." his tone layered with confidence.

you rolled your eyes and shook your head slightly.

"whatever. i'm going to bed." you said after grabbing him a couple more blankets, since it was getting colder.

beomgyu nodded and prepared the couch to a comfortable bed.

"goodnight frog boy," you mumbled as you were walking towards your bedroom.

"goodnight popcorn thief." he said back. he was already laying comfortable, under the blankets and pillows.

the morning sunlight crept through the clouds, pale and hesitant casting a soft glow. the storm had finally passed.

you stirred awake to the faint clink of dishes and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing.

beomgyu.

you blinked a few times, sitting up slowly. your hair was a wild mess around your face. a yawn escaped from your lips and you pushed yourself up from your bed.

you padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes. "what are you doing?"

beomgyu turned around, spoon in his mouth and a box of cereal tucked under his arm like a prized possession. his hair was fluffy now, dry but still unbrushed, sticking up like he'd rolled straight from the couch into the pantry.

he pulled the spoon out and shrugged. "breakfast obviously."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "you have your own place."

"you don't have plain boring cornflakes," he said, lifting the box of choco rings slightly like it was a trophy. "you have joy."

you sighed, but your lips curved upward. "help yourself, i guess."

"oh i have been," he said with a playful wink, already reaching for a second bowl from the shelf.

the next ten minutes were filled with quiet munching and the soft sound of the morning news on low volume in the background. beomgyu sat across from you at the small kitchen table, still wearing the frog pants you'd given him the night before, like they were the peak of fashion.

"you've got milk on your chin," you said, half-smiling as you pount at him with your spoon.

beomgyu blinked, swiping at the wrong side of his face. you rolled your eyes, leaned over the table and wiped it with the corner of your sleeve.

he froze—just for a second. the kind of pause that hung in the air a beat too long. you felt it too, the sudden silence stretching between you.

"thanks." he said softy, eyes lingering on yours a little longer than usual.

you nodded, quickly looking down at your cereal. the clink of your spoon against the bowl suddenly felt too loud.

after a moment, he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head toward the window. "the sun's finally out," he said, his voice light again. "i was starting to think we'd be stuck in a tragic indie film forever."

you snorted. "you'd love that though."

he smirked. "depends. do i get the girl in the end?"

huh?

you stared at him—just a second too long. an unreadable expression on your face.

but your heart knew what was behind that expression, even if your mind was in denial.

he looked back, like he was trying to read something in your face. then he blinked and grinned, brushing it off like it was a joke. "kidding. unless you think i'd make a good male lead."

his usual teasing tone was evident in his voice.

you laughed, shaking your head. "you'd definitely cry at your own monologue."

"and steal the show," he said, eyebrows dancing, popping the last choco ring into his mouth.

you watched him, the sun catching his hair now, and something soft settled in your chest—warm and confusing.

"what?" he asked, catching your gaze.

"nothing." you said quickly. "just... your hair looks ridiculous."

"you say that like it's not my brand. and it's called trendy." he said and sent you a wink playfully, a light-hearted joke.

but why did my heart take it seriously?

© bangtanbeom 2025