#also if I didn't tag you but you want to please do it I want to see

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when gojo has a crush on geto's childhood best friend (pt. 2)

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ೃ⁀➷ notes: please read part one here. my baby boy is so sweet and sincere when he's love, even though it's doesn't always come across that way x

ೃ⁀➷ tags: angst and fluff; unrequited(ish) love; pining; hurt/comfort

♡ satoru gojo was not your type. he was cocky, arrogant, obnoxious, childish and a slew of other things that you found deeply unattractive in a man his age. he somehow always manages to take everything just a little too far for your liking. his extroverted persona a bit too overwhelming for you. suguru went on and on about him, but you really couldn't see the appeal. nor could you understand what drew suguru so deeply to him.

♡ okay, maybe he's just awkward, you think. after watching this tall, muscular man walk directly into a closed door mid-conversation. he banged his face so hard against it, he made a funny noise, and you had to suppress a laugh. "are you okay?" you asked concerned, and the man simply grumbled a yes as his cheeks turned a bright pink. it's the first time you saw him blush, and your heart fluttered at the sight.

♡ "look, I know he can be a lot, but you know he's my best friend. other than you, he's the only person I would give my life for," suguru stated honestly. you were both conversing over a tub of ice cream. you were sitting cross legged on the sofa, digging your spoon into the ice cream angrily. satoru made an inappropriate joke in front of everyone that humiliated you. you did not appreciate it one bit. you rolled your eyes and left in a bitter mood. suguru stopped by your place with the ice cream trying to console you.

♡ satoru's face visibly falls when you reject hanging out with him for a movie. two tickets in his hand that he pinches together. it was his way of apologizing apparently, but you were not going to entertain the idea of spending anytime alone with him. "look," you respond with a sigh, "I forgive you, okay? but I'm busy tonight.". it seems your follow up sparked something inside him. he lifts up his face, a small smile highlighting those annoyingly handsome features. "wait, so we are cool? you aren't mad about what I said?" he asks. you exhale, "yeah, we are cool."

♡ "I think you're being really hard on him," suguru stated casually. your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "the guy is obviously making an effort to get along with you, and you keep shutting him down". you stared at your best friend with accusing eyes. "why are you taking his side?" you replied with frustration. suguru gave you a knowing look. "I am not taking sides. but I will defend either of you if necessary." you reached for your arm and pinched it with slight shame. you didn't realize how difficult you were being. "just go easy on him," suguru added on. "if not for his sake, then at least for mine. I just want you guys to get along..."

♡ surprisingly, things started going really well with satoru after you began making the conscious effort to do so. you could even say that you both were starting to become friends. satoru revealed that he was actually quite smart when you both were alone together and not in front of a crowd. he's also insanely talented but downplayed himself quite frequently and nonchalantly. his confidence, his real confidence, about his talents and wits was always subdued. you wondered if the persona he puts on for people is to simply hide away this part of himself. your heart started to expand and contract tightly when you listened to him spitball on some random scientific fact mid-discussion. satoru's incessant chatter not so annoying to you after all. as a matter of fact, he actually had a really nice voice when he was speaking calmly. at one point, he smiled and mumbled that he needed to learn to shut up. he casually ran his long, slender fingers through his snowy hair and gave you a bashful glance. your heart pattered a little faster. he can be really cute when he wants to be.

♡ you're spending a lot more time alone with him. and it's nice. like really, really nice. he's bloomed into someone unexpected. someone that catches your eye in an entirely different way. you do eventually agree to watch a movie together. the two of you were snuggled close in the theatre, sharing a bowl of popcorn. at one point you both reached for the bucket at the same time, the warmth of satoru's touch grazing over your fingers and making your thighs tremble. "sorry," he whispered as he casually lifts his hand, but his hot breath fans your cheek. you gazed up to see that his face is quite close to yours, your eyes falling to his pretty lips then back up to the sparkling blues. "i-it's okay," you answer, taken aback by the proximity of him in your space. you fold your arms over your belly swimming with butterflies, suddenly too aware of your own emotions to eat anymore.

♡ you're falling for him, when did that start happening?

♡ oh. you like him. you like him more than you should. you haven't even told suguru about it and it's eating you up inside. you haven't even admitted it out loud to yourself and that makes you scared. but you can't stop looking at him. he looks so good in his outfit - dressed to kill, and capturing everyone's attention at the party. "who are you staring at?" shoko asks. you try to brush it off, but utahime points out the obvious. suddenly you're bombarded with questions, your words failing you as you try to give an explanation.

♡ they don't accuse you, but they are curious and their wonder spins into hundreds of questions. everyone knows that you didn't like satoru gojo. what suddenly changed?

♡ "satoru is really sweet, but...he's not my type..." you blurt out in an attempt to save yourself and to give yourself some space from the weight of your realization. but only then do you see the girl's expression drop as both their eyes look above your head.

♡ satoru looks back at you crestfallen, having clearly heard what you just said. no, you think, no no no.

♡ he tugs at his collar, "excuse me-" he states as he spins on his heel. you all watch him disappear, and you're suddenly standing there wishing that the ground will swallow you whole. suguru asks the girls to give you both some privacy. the two of you stand in silence for a bit, and you realize that your best friend is giving you a chance to catch your breath. "I have to go talk to him," you blurt out, a sense of panic in your eyes. suguru just smiles. he knows you so fucking well. he takes the drink from your hand and gestures towards the door with the tilt of his head.

♡ "satoru..." you call out quietly, finding him seated outside. he doesn't react like usual, just stares at the ground before clearing his throat. he wipes his hands on his thighs and stands upright, his broad shoulders slumping. he turns around to face you, and the expression makes your brows furrow with concern. "you don't have to say anything," he explains.

♡ he stands upright, slides both his hands in his pockets and exhales in defeat. "I think it's fairly obvious that I like you. But they're just feelings right? It'll go away. I don't want to keep bothering you or wasting your time..." "satoru..." you interrupt.

"you clearly don't feel the same way, and I-I don't want to come across as a creep or make you feel uncomfortable..." "satoru, please" you beg, taking a step closer. "look, it's fine..." he says with a big grin, his eyes glossy and making you ache. "I'm a big boy, I can take rejection..." "it's not fine," you murmur with a shake of your head. "I have clearly been forcing this, making up stories in my own head. I shouldn't...I shouldn't keep taking up your precious time..." he walks up two steps, ready to bypass you but you quickly loop your arm around his bicep and tug him back. "wait-" you stammer, and he halts. frozen, you gaze at each other in contemplation. your other hand reaches for his jaw, and his body stiffens against your touch. "just...wait..." you softly add on, trying to rationalize your own feelings and what this could all mean. you tilt your head up, your thumb outlining his jaw. your eyes fall to his parted lips, your own seeking him out. you kiss him sweetly, apologetically, affectionately.

satoru is stunned. his eyes fall hazy like he can't believe what just happened. he looks so cute that you can't help but smile, your thumb moves to swipe the lipstick over his bottom lip.

"I-..." he mumbles dreamily, slowly angling his body in your direction. he gulps down the raw hurt. "I thought I'm not your type..."

"you're not," you answer back cheekily, your arms moving to circle around his neck while his own hands find your hips. "but I think that's exactly why I like you. you're everything I didn't expect."

his forehead drops against yours as a wave of relief washes over him. "you like me?"

you nip at your bottom lip, teasing the tip of his nose with yours. "yeah," you answer a little breathlessly, before smiling into another kiss "I really do."

♡ when suguru wakes up the next morning, the first text he receives is from satoru. after you both disappeared from the party last night, he had to follow up.

suguru: let me guess, did you both kiss and make up? satoru: I just left her place, heading back to mine now. suguru: spare me any gross details please. satoru: I feel like I am dreaming. last night wasn't real suguru: pretty real, bud. so, don't fuck it up. satoru: just pinch me when you see me, alright? I need to make sure.

[miabebe]

Two Many Beds (Choi Seungcheol) Teaser

Reverse Trope Series Installment 1.5

Choi Seungcheol was your parent's best friend's son, the man you lived with for two odd years and the face you woke up to everyday but that didn't mean the two of you didn't have issues to navigate. After all, everything changed when one argument turned into two beds and seven days apart. Your only worry was that in all this, the distance it took over twenty years to cover, might just find its way between the two of you again....

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x afab! Reader

Word Count- 3.4k for teaser (Estimated full fic WC - 13k)

Genre - Ah our sweet little idiots have gotten some issues so angst, romance, hurt/comfort, obviously banter cause it's these two. Oh and smut.

Warnings -smut, making out, cheol lifts reader, fingering (that's all for teaser, lots more coming in the full fic hehe)

A/n - Hello my loves, surprise surprise! This is super duper overdue - The love Too Many Beds gets to date still makes me feel so touched so I wanted to have a little something out for everyone who, like me, is so attached to our little idiots in love! If you want to be tagged in the full fic, please leave a comment below and if you want to be tagged in all fics of the series, then drop a comment on the taglist!

TUESDAY

You glanced at Seungcheol silently getting ready in front of the mirror. The man still doesn't know how to tie his tie. 

On any other day, he would've asked you to do it, looking down at you fondly while you worked the knot but today he just threw it on the bed with a frustrated sound and walked off. Sighing, you picked it up, folding it neatly, putting it on the rack.

Seungcheol also really loved to eat breakfast with you. Yeah it was his favourite meal of the day but what he really liked was watching you in the kitchen, humming and swaying around to the music as you cooked. You, of course, loved having his eyes on you first thing in the morning - more often than not, it was you who ended up on the table for him to have his fill. 

Today though, he barely glanced at the kitchen before he grabbed his bag, slipped on his shoes and closed the door behind him with a resounding slam. No kiss today. In the two years that you’ve lived together, he’s never not kissed you. 

Huffing annoyed, you threw your half eaten pancakes in the bin and followed his suit - grabbed your bag, wore your heels and slammed the door shut behind you. 

This was stupid. 

This whole fight was stupid. 

You didn't mean for it to escalate this far. What had been a casual statement that stemmed purely out of frustration had turned into a full blown Cold War. 

You picked up the photo of the two of you in your office, the one that you had framed, the one from your wedding. From your first wedding actually, when the two of you got sick of your parents fussing over the arrangements and simply flew to Greece overnight, getting married there, all by yourselves. You really love this picture - Seungcheol wearing a perfectly fitted white shirt, his arms wrapped around you from behind while you matched him, donning a white beach gown, a pretty crown of flowers on your head as you half turned to look at him, the two of you laughing. 

Being married to Seungcheol was.....like a dream. To be honest, you hadn't ever dreamt this was possible - that your parents best friend's son and childhood arch rival would be the one whose arms you'd wake up in everyday.

Again, except today. 

Today you woke up on the bed alone while he spent the night on the couch. Given how much Seungcheol liked to cling onto you in his sleep, you were habituated to waking up all suffocated, pulling away from his grip while he’d draw you back, snuggling in your arms, asking you for five minutes more. Sometimes he let you go in five, sometimes it became twenty, with two orgasms added. Either way, with him you always woke up hot, sweaty and mildly annoyed but you missed his warmth today.

You missed him terribly.  

But not anymore.

This had to end. 

Seungcheol didn’t expect to see you at home so early. 

Ever since your event management venture had started, you had been busy with the logistics of it all - hiring people, setting up the office, and dealing with your first ever event, your dear cousin’s wedding. That meant you often reached home around midnight, way after Seungcheol finished his dinner, when he would be slipping into bed. To see you in the kitchen, whipping up a meal should have been a pleasant surprise yet Seungcheol showed no change of expression - he simply threw his bag on the couch, changed into his gym clothes and left the house. 

Sighing, you grabbed his bag and slid it on the shelf in his office room. It had been years yet his habit of leaving things around hadn’t changed one bit. Neither did he - he was just as caring, just as in love with you and just as much your best friend as he had been since day one. It was you who was the idiot. 

Last night, even though you had come home earlier than usual, for some reason you were more exhausted than you had ever been. Seungcheol of course, like any doting husband, was happy to see you, pulling you onto his lap the moment you dropped on the couch, finding your lips with a long, much needed kiss. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to be intimate with him, but there was something weighing on your mind when you walked into the house, something you had been meaning to ask him. But before you could get a word out, gripping your thighs he lifted you in his arms, walking you towards the room. 

“Cheol, I wanted to ask you something.” 

“What?” Setting you on the bed, he hovered over you, pulling his shirt over his head. You were feeling unnaturally hot too, so you quickly unbuttoned your shirt and like he had been deprived for months, Seungcheol ravenously descended on your breasts, littering the curve of it with hurried kisses and bites. It hadn’t even been that long since the two of you last had sex… okay, it had been a week which was considerably long given how often you two got at it but you had been really busy launching your business, just like you were busy thinking about it now.  

“Cheol, listen to me.” 

“I’m listening.” He said but his hands worked on your pants, pulling them down as his mouth found your neck. 

“No you’re not.”

“Okay, fine, I’m not.” He sighed, slipping his fingers below your underwear, finding you wet between your legs. “But I’m also not going anywhere, we can talk after-” 

“But this is important-”

“So is this.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in slowly, pulling out a soft moan from you. “Fuck, I missed you baby.” 

Screw this man. Nothing made you feel as good as he did.

“I missed you too…” Holding his face in your hands, you kissed him softly, clenching around his digits. “F-faster Cheol.” 

Groaning he adjusted over you, putting himself in an angle that allowed him to slip another finger in, pumping them faster, curling them when needed.

“Oh god yes…” Forehead pressed against his, you felt your eyes shut as the knot deliciously tightened in your guts. Watching you ready to fall apart, Seungcheol found your clit with his thumb, the sensation of him rubbing circles making your walls flutter around his fingers, soaking them. 

“That’s it baby.” He whispered, encouraging you to ride it out, allowing you to grind your hips against his hand. “Come for me.”

And within minutes, you did, your orgasm washing you in waves as you wrapped your arms around your husband, nails digging into his back as the most wonderful sigh of relief left your being. 

Seungcheol chuckled as you held on to him, your breath fast and shallow. “Are you okay? You just seem so wound up these days, I thought this might help.” 

You grimaced as you let him go, allowing him to roll off you. “Yeah, work’s really been a bitch off late, which is why I-” 

“Shhh.” Seungcheol pulled you into his arms again, dropping a soft kiss on your head. “Just leave work behind for a bit Y/n. You’re home now, take a breather and relax.” 

“I’m not too tired or anything.” You pulled away from him, sitting up. “And I know I shouldn’t bring work home but the business is just launching and I don’t want to mess things up.”

“Hey,” Seungcheol followed your suit, sitting on his knees. “You won’t. You’re one of the most capable people I know, you got this.” 

You sighed. 

He was always so encouraging, he always believed in you so much. But maybe if he just listened he’d know the truth. He’d know you weren’t that capable after all. That things were messing up. That you really needed help. 

“How about you just-ow!” You shrieked as you shifted, trying to put some space between the two of you. 

Your hand had found that bumpy crack between both beds, slipping right in between it, the edges of the mattress grazing your palm.

Yes both beds - Unfortunately, you and Seungcheol had to bring the beds from your childhood in your parents' house because thanks to um certain activities, the comfortable king size bed in your master bedroom had effectively…. broken. Since then, the two of you had put together the two single beds you had grown up in, promising to go mattress shopping when you were free. It had been a month now but somehow, the time for it never came. 

“We really need a new bed.” You mumbled, rubbing your hand, moving away to your side. “It's been days since we slept properly.” 

Seungcheol hummed, half crawling towards you. “I told you, we didn’t need two, you and I can manage on one-”

“Cheol…” You let out a breath, knowing what he was approaching you for again. “You said we’d talk after-” 

“Yes after.” He smirked, pushing you back gently, hovering over you again. “But I’m not done with you.” 

Oh he was only just getting started. You could feel his erection pressing against your groin and considering it had been a while since the two of you were intimate, you knew it wouldn’t end anytime soon. Seungcheol had the tendency to go on for hours sometimes. 

Softly pushing him off, you turned away. “What if we spoke first and then continued-”

“You know I don’t like leaving things halfway-” 

“Yeah well you shouldn’t have started it in the first place-”

“You say that after you’ve had your turn.” He pulled you back, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth by your ear. “It’s too late to back out now baby.”  

“No it's not too late,” You wiggled in his grip. “We could just stop-”

“Nope,” Seungcheol smirked against your skin, his hand going between your legs again. “It's my turn now-”

“Cheol, I said stop!” 

You didn’t mean to push him with such force or for your elbow to land right in his stomach - all you wanted was to simply get away for a minute. Seungcheol looked at you wide eyed and surprised as you slid off the bed, buttoning your shirt again. 

“For God’s sake Cheol, I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long but all you want to do is have sex!?” 

Sitting up, Seungcheol looked confused, concerned and hurt all at once. “Y/n I… I thought-”

“How about you stop thinking and listen to me!” You exploded, glaring at him accusatorily. “I really wanted to talk to you Cheol, I wanted to share something but you just….” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose you turned away from him.

“Y/n I’m sorry…” You didn’t notice the way he winced, holding his abdomen as he slid off the bed, approaching you hesitatingly. “You seemed so stressed, I thought I was helping-” 

“The way for you to help was to listen to me!” You threw your hands in the air. “Do you have any idea how much pressure I am under? I’m trying to do something for us, for our future, but all you want to do is just…. it’s been barely a week Cheol, why is sex always the only thing on your mind?” 

“You…” Seungcheol looked at you like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “You think this was about me? That sex is all I care about?” 

The moment those words left him, you knew you were wrong. Of course not, Seungcheol loved you, more than anything and you knew that. He was just trying to help - how was he to know that you weren’t just trying to vent like always, that you wanted to ask him if he could quit his job and join you in the business? How was he to know the severity of things? 

“I…” You turned around to him, finding him clutching his stomach, wincing in pain. “Oh my god Cheol, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t.” He held his hand out as you approached. “Please don’t.” 

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving you alone, regretting your words. 

That night, you tried to approach him again but Seungcheol was uncharacteristically subjecting you to silent treatment. You knew that wasn’t his way of working through things - Seungcheol was a mature man. He talked things through, he knew how to fix issues. The fact that he wasn’t having any conversation with you clearly meant that your words had hurt him beyond belief. Of course you were sorry about it, and you tried telling him that, many times, but he didn’t seem to listen. Instead, for the first time in two years of marriage, Seungcheol slept on the couch, away from you. 

You had hoped he would at least be more receptive to you in the morning but his cold behaviour continued and his stubborness irked you. Fine, if he was going to be such a child about this, so were you. But as the day progressed you realised how stupid it all was. You didn’t want to play tit for tat with your husband, you just wanted things to be normal with him again. That’s why leaving all your work behind, you wrapped up the last meeting of the day as quickly as you could and arrived home way before the sun set, making his favourite meal as an apology. 

But it seemed like he still didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t smile when you smiled at him. He didn’t smirk at you when your eyes ran down his water streaked, towel clad body as he stepped out of the shower. He didn’t even eat dinner - just donned his pajamas and got ready to sleep on the couch. Again. 

“Cheol,” You walked up to him as he threw his comforter on the couch. “I understand you’re mad but that’s no reason to avoid eating.” 

“I already ate.” His answer was curt. Hurtful. He would never forgo the chance to eat a meal made by you. 

“Cheol I’m so sorry about yesterday, you know I didn’t mean what I said, it was just in the heat of the moment.” 

Silence. That’s all he gave to you in return. Silence. 

You watched as he settled on the couch, turning on the tv, ignoring your presence. You could’ve just walked off. You could’ve just let your ego take over - after all you had been constantly apologizing to him since last night while he was behaving like a five year old. But at least one of you had to behave like an adult so you did, sitting on the floor before him, taking his hands into yours. 

“Cheol listen to me-”

“Y/n please, don’t do this, get up.” 

You ignored him. “Cheol I’m really sorry, tell me what I should do to fix this-” 

“First get up please, just…” He pulled you onto your feet, making you sit on the couch next to him. “You don’t have to apologise like that.” 

“Then what do I have to do to make things right again? To make us okay again?” 

“It’s….” Seungcheol sighed looking away. “It’s not you. I…. I was just thinking about things. I didn’t mean to seem cold.” 

“You ignored me all day.” You turned his head to you, glancing at him sadly. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye…” 

“I didn’t know if I should.” He whispered, looking away. “I didn’t know what you’d think of me if I got close to you again.” 

“Cheol…” You could feel tears pricking your eyes. You had really hurt him. 

Throwing your leg around his waist, you climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Too tight. 

But Seungcheol didn’t hold you back. 

“I’m really really sorry Cheol.” You muttered in the crook of his neck. “I’ve just been so stressed about work. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it was not fair to take my frustration out on you.” 

When he still didn’t wrap his arms around you, you pulled back, holding his face in your hands softly. “I know it wasn’t just about sex, I know you were trying to help and I’m sorry I lashed out. Please just….. Please talk to me, we can talk it out-” 

“No, no I’m sorry Y/n.” He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to shut you out, I just…was thinking about what you said and-”

“Please don’t.” You hugged him tight again and this time, Seungcheol hugged you back, placing a soft kiss in your hair. “Just forget what happened, okay? It was my bad, it was just in the moment.” 

You could feel him hum, his chest vibrating against yours as you held onto your husband, relieved to have finally put this behind you. The two of you sat like that till the sound of the rain hitting the glass with a soft pitter patter took over the silence and you drew back, looking at him with a small smile. 

“Come sleep in the room?” 

Seungcheol nodded, letting you go as you quickly slid off his lap and grabbed his bedding, heading to the room.

“You didn’t have dinner either Y/n.” 

“Not hungry!” You called back as you put the pillows on his side of the bed again. “I’m kinda nauseous actually.” 

Walking into the room, Seungcheol looked he didn’t believe you before his eyes fell on the bed you were making and he gulped. 

“Y/n I…”

You turned, looking at him confused. “What happened?” 

“I can’t do this.” He confessed, taking a step back. “I can’t…”

“But Cheol I apologised-”

“No, no.” He quickly approached you, noticing how your face fell. “You didn’t have to, you were right, I… I’m the problem-” 

“That’s not true-” 

“If helping you was what I wanted, I would've stopped after you were done but I...” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t listen when you kept saying you wanted to talk, I just kept going on, like some untamed animal-”

“Cheol stop it.” You reached for his hands, trying to talk sense into him again. “You know its not like that-”

“Do we?” He looked at you frowning. “How do we know I’m not some sort of crazy sex addict?” 

“Because you…what?” You looked at him like he wasn’t making any sense. Clearly, whatever went down last night was still not letting him think straight. “Cheol what are you saying?” 

“I just… I don’t want to sleep here.” He pulled away from you. “I don’t want to sleep with you till I know I’m…”

You let out a deep breath, shaking your head. “You’re being really unreasonable right now.” 

“I just want to prove to myself that it's… it's not all about sex.” 

“There’s nothing wrong in wanting to have sex with your wife!”

“But I also want it to be more! To listen to you, to look after you, to be there for you.” 

“And you think not sleeping with me is the solution?” 

“I’m not trying to solve anything.” Seungcheol insisted. “I just want to put some space between us…. Didn’t you say last night that it had only been a week? So just, give me another, I’m… just trying to see something for myself.” 

You blinked at him. You had so many rebuttals to counter him, so many things to point out that didn’t make sense. But you also knew Seungcheol well enough - there was no point arguing with him, not when he was so emotionally driven. The only way to do it was to give him what he asked - seven days. You could do that much, right? 

“Your back is going to hurt if you sleep on the couch for a week.” You crossed your arms, letting out a heavy breath. “You can just sleep on the bed. Nothing has to happen between us.” 

Seungcheol glanced over your shoulder, lost in thought. Then suddenly he walked over and grabbed the bottom of the bed, pulling the cot apart, turning one bed into two. You watched as he dragged it away, putting a considerable distance between the two of you. “Cheol….” 

“Just seven days.” 

You looked at him across you, sitting at a distance it had taken over 20 years for the two of you to cover. All you could hope was that the next seven days did not put a lifetime of distance between the two of you again. 

A/n- Ahhhh I'm so excited to have the full fic out! I didn't think I would ever continue the story for these two but not gonna lie, they're always on my mind hehehe Do leave your thoughts and comments - it'll truly push me to get the full fic out fasterrr

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2 Coming On 01/26/2025!

I am so happy to announce that I have finally finished part 2, proving again that I cannot write a one-shot to save my life 😅! Thank you so much to everyone who loved part one and encouraged me to explore this world a little more for part two. I'm not going to lie I absolutely love how this one turned out and I can't wait to see what y'all think of it!

And also everyone say thank you to @justagirlinafandomworld for inspiring me with her fic Stranded that she wrote for @jacklesversebingo 😊

Part 1

Just A Little Something 😉

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the back seat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here, had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

So far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their roadtrip to Wally World…

A/N: I am tagging people who asked me to in part one, but if you wanted to be tagged for Part 2 and I didn't put you down please let me know! 💗

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz

[electricwhims]

Infant Resize Preset

Are you sick of using demon toddlers? Do you want newborns that actually LOOK like newborns? Well you came to the right place cause one night I had a midnight thought that I turned into a reality and it was to make those toddler resize presets but for INFANTS!

The proportions look so much more newborn-like, eh? I tried my best to use real newborn references for an accurate scale!

DISCLAIMER: THIS PRESET IS FOR POSE USE ONLY. It kind of works with gameplay, but it doesn't give you any new gameplay features for newborns. They will act like infants

HOW TO USE?

STEP 1: Equip preset in CAS

The preview looks like this! And is located under body presets!

-Note that you CANNOT go back to a regular size infant without defaulting their genetic body type. So I recommend making a CAS backup just for the infant!

STEP 2: Get you some poses that work with this preset! (I have a launch day list at the bottom of this post!!)

-Resized toddler poses WILL NOT work with this preset.

-Regular sized Infant poses will work with the preset, but it may require T.O.O.L to fix the positioning.

STEP 3: Pose as normal!! If you're having trouble with positioning, see the known issues section of this post!

POSEMAKER'S GUIDE

To make poses using this preset, you must use the special rig provided in the download section of this post! It's exactly like posing with resized toddlers.

-You must NEVER use the reset rig button. That defaults the rig to regular infant size. To undo changes please use alt + R and alt + G

KNOWN ISSUES

Infants are notoriously glitchy and for some reason when they're small sized, they act just a little bit crazier.

I HIGHLY RECCOMEND YOU DOWNLOAD T.O.O.L TO HELP SOLVE THESE ISSUES.

-If your teleporter is throwing last exceptions, your small infants may become misaligned with their caregiver's. This is easily fixable with T.O.O.L.

-When posing on an incline, the infants WILL MOVE OUT OF PLACE. These kinds of misalignments can't be fixed with T.O.O.L. I recommend only posing on flat terrain.

-This is not an issue, but more of a suggestion. If you're posing with some kind of bed, these babes are tiny and hard to click on. I recommend downloading a camera mod such as this one to get down low under the beds.

If you have any other detrimental issues, please let me know! I'm happy to help troubleshoot! You can reach out on here, but I respond faster on my instagram!

Free poses you can use right now!!

Thank you SOOO much to my amazing friends @truecolorssims and @herecirmsims for making 100% free poses to release alongside this launch!! Ya'll are INCREDIBLE and I couldn't have done this without you!!!

Cold Welcome by Me -Birth poses with complications

Newborn Singles by Me

It's Your Dad by Me - NICU visit poses

Safe in My Arms by Me -Sim being handed a baby and cuddle sesh.

It's So Hard by Me - Sim crying by a crib and being handed a baby

Complete by Me - Polyamorous throuple with baby

Isn't Mommy Awesome? By Me - Breastfeeding/Bottlefeeding with toddler and both parents.

Hold This by @herecirmsims - Couple and trio poses handing off a baby!!

Emotions With A Newborn by @herecirmsims - like the title suggests!!

Teeny Tiny by @truecolorssims - Family portrait poses with newborn!!

There was also supposed to be a preemie size variant of this preset but for some reason I couldn't get it to work!! Maybe one day when I have more time to troubleshoot I can release that, but for now, I didn't want to put this off any longer!

TERMS OF USE:

I put a LOT of hours into this preset and all the poses to go along with it and I'm releasing them COMPLETELY FREE So I feel a slightly stricter TOS is warranted.

-Do not reupload

-No poses made with this preset are allowed to be perma paywalled PERIOD. Early access is allowed if it is released for free in a timely manner (2-3 weeks)

-Do not include the preset in your post. Please link back to this post!

IF THESE TOUs ARE VIOLATED I WILL BLOCK YOU ON ALL PLATFORMS

If you use it, please tag me on here or on Instagram @electric.whims Not a requirement, but I do want to see!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

DOWNLOAD: SIMFILESHARE| PATREON

[pinechips]

Why do I love WN? Hmm, I already wrote a pretty lengthy ramble, so let me paste that again.

I think this is a good time to say something about Warrior Nun - because most of the tags from the other fandom are "I don't even know these girls!" Then you might be curious about what this freaking ship is and why people love Avatrice so much. To avoid spoilers, let me just focus on *my* feelings about this ship (and this amazing show).

I came across Warrior Nun on my twt timeline because some of my friends didn't stop talking about it. I was curious and watched the show - and fell in love. 

Hmm, what can I say? It reminds me of the feeling of first love - when you really don't know what it is, but you realize "this must be it, otherwise how could I feel this way?". The pure happiness you feel just by looking at someone (not even as your gf). 

But there is a maturity in their love. The way you just want her to be happy - whether you will be able to see her or not. Oh, I can probably write 5k words here, and I already wrote 400k about their love on ao3. I still have more stories to write.

After I fell in love with it, the show was canceled by Netflix. It is a really good show and proved to be successful enough (we have a full report on ratings and popularity analysis). Still, it was canceled. So the fandom decided to be loud, to be heard, as much as possible, as far as possible. The fandom put up a billboard in front of the Netflix headquarters. Then sent an erotic pastry to Netflix executives (based on our internal jokes about a scene in the show). We want them to remember what our show means to us. We also want others to know how much fans support this show. I'm not going to tell ya what's happened in the last two years because it hasn't been an easy fight (well, it's been worth every second, though).

So the Warrior Nun fandom has some *history* too, if you ask me. And I fucking love that I haven't seen any disrespect to other fandoms from the WN side in this whole poll mess. I love WN so much, but I also respect every other fandom. We need more w/w representation, always.

It got long and less funny than I planned, but I hope this piques your curiosity about my favorite show. Please watch it and if you like it, join us to talk about it. We love new friends.

(And this is how my lunch hour ends. All the things I do for Avatrice...)

Top Femslash Ships Bracket - FINALS

[midnite-c6]

After reading ur patient!namgyu fanfic I was just wondering if you could pretty please w a cherry on top write a fic about Seowan !! Doesnt have to be doctor x patient, I just need more fics w my beloved Seowan 🔥🔥 have a great day/noon/night!

i haven't seen any fics about seo-wan, it makes me so sad, but here's oneDJFH also, i added squid game tags because i want more nam-gyu lovers to see roh jaewon's character in daily dose of sunshine!! FIRST NON SQUIDGAME FIC .. my fav schizo TT.

kim seo-wan x reader !! <3 warnings: fluff , angst ?! , mentions of mental illness </3

つ⁠｡⁠☆ he's your study buddy!! both of you couldn't pass the exams the first time and you guys bonded over that. the two of you would sit next to each other when the professors lecturing about a lesson, since you both share the interest of being determined in passing the exams this year, there wouldn't be alot of talking during a lecture, but afterwards he's actually quite talkative!

he would also share his notes, giving you a bunch of sticky notes, all of them would have silly random doodles and small comments about how "you can do it!"

you manage to even hang out with him after classes ..which still includes studying, but you told him he needs to let lose, even for a little while. eating noodles in those small shops on the sidewalk, visiting libraries, and if you feel like your falling behind in studies, he would share the other side of his headset, making you listen to the lecture he found on youtube.

a new store would open up right next to the university, because the lessons were tiring and obsessing over the tests is unhealthy, the two of you decide to explore. it was actually a computer-shop.

since then, it's been you and seo-wan's new hobby, to play videogames for hours after lectures, how you were practically his pocket healer, how you two can't play alone without the other right by their side.

this newly-shared interest has gotten you two alot closer, you'd even ask him out, gratefully, the feelings are mutual, kim seo-wan is a simple man. now there'd be long sessions of kissing inside his small apartment, cosplaying, the two of you didn't have alot of money, but this was enough.

video games became a part of your life, one to escape reality. but unfortunately, this hit a little bit harder for kim seo-wan. you'd notice how he wouldn't take the time to study anymore. of course, as the concerned lover you are, you would remind him all the time, but he just wouldn't budge.

his parents were nice, they'd always treat you like you were family, even cooking dinner or lunch for you whenever you come over. since you haven't seen seo-wan in awhile, you'd ask them, only to find out your boyfriend has been sent to a psychiatric unit.

you would visit him everyday, telling him about your day, and asking about his. his day was filled with thinking of you, playing ping-pong with the other patients, and this fantasy world he lives in. but whenever you were too busy to visit, he'd be extra depressed inside the hospital and says he has ran out of mana. </3

you were always intrigued whenever he would tell you about his visions. his stories contain that you were truly his 'mediator', and that you're there in his life to save him. "this is very unprofessional, oh my dear.. mediator, but i'm inlove with you, for you make me look forward to explore even the darkest caves or the highest mountains." he'd take your hand to place a soft kiss on-top. he had forgotten your previous relationship before, atleast he still loves you in the new world he's living in.

you'd end up taking the test without him, but you'd never talk about it in the hospital, you know he needs more time.

in the end, you two agree upon each other to fight the fire dragon together, whatever the future may hold. because, as he confidentally says: "once i've saved up enough mana and leveled up all my armor, i choose you to come with me. you're the only one i can trust in defeating the fire dragon. i will protect you with all my life, my dear mediator!"

i'm sobbing just thinking about this bye ☹️☹️☹️ was gonna do nsfw parts too as i usually do but like i was too up in my feelings LMAOFHBRK trust im gonna post sum nsfw story next 🤞🏻

[iamquiantrelle]

VIRGIN TERRITORY (chapter 5) ────── iamquaintrelle

# pairing: aurelien tchouameni x black oc (☔️✨💕)

# tags: @whoevenisthiz @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @rougereds @f1-football-fiend @judectrl @ayeshami @greyishbach @haartemis @goldenngt @solidbrii @sailurmewn @rainbowsparkelsunshine @lbchi @bbgkoo @mauvecherie-writes

# summary: she's been his pa for almost a year and every day is a struggle to function around him, but he'll never see her more than that...will he? and what will happen if he finds out she's also a virgin? masterlist.

The Atlanta airport is different after months of European terminals. Everything's louder, more familiar, more home. Leila's dragging her designer luggage (a gift from Josette on her birthday) past Popeyes and Chick-fil-A, the smell making her realize how much she's missed proper Southern food.

Her mama nearly drops her church hat when she walks through the door unannounced, clutching her chest like Leila's appearance might send her straight to Jesus.

"Lord have mercy! What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Did that boy—" Jeanna Mae's already reaching for her phone, probably to alert the whole prayer circle about her prodigal daughter's return.

"Mama, breathe." Leila drops her bags by the door, taking in the familiar scent of sweet potato pie and those vanilla plugins. The house looks exactly the same – family photos covering every surface, that ancient TV guide that hasn't been opened since streaming existed, her daddy's old recliner still in its spot of honor.

"Don't tell me to breathe when you show up looking like somebody broke your heart." Her mama's fingers are flying across her phone screen. "And I bet it's about that captain of yours. The one who won't admit his feelings."

"Mama—"

"Don't 'mama' me. You flew across an ocean to run from that boy. I raised you better than that."

Before Leila can defend her life choices, her phone explodes with notifications:

Yolanda: BITCH YOU'RE HOME??? Kenzi: Emergency drinks at Slim & Husky's in 30. This is not a request Tasha: Don't even think about saying no. We saw your IG stories Yolanda: Already ordered the wine. GET HERE

Her mama's already pushing her toward the stairs, that knowing look in her eyes. "Go change. Your girls are waiting. But don't think this conversation is over. I want to know everything about this William boy too."

"How do you even—"

"Baby girl, I might be old but I know how to use Instagram. Now go. But we're having a proper talk when you get back."

An hour later, she's squeezed into a booth at Slim & Husky's, surrounded by her best friends since middle school and enough pizza and wine to fuel a proper intervention. The restaurant's busy for a weeknight, filled with that specific Atlanta energy she didn't realize she'd missed.

"So let me get this straight," Yolanda leans forward, wine glass dangling dangerously while her bamboo earrings catch the light. "You got TWO fine African men fighting over you? In EUROPE?"

"They're not fighting—"

"Girl, please." Kenzi rolls her eyes so hard they might get stuck. "One's bringing you Lebanese food while the other's having whole breakdowns in tunnels? That's fighting. That's fighting in multiple languages."

"And you're here because…?" Tasha raises an eyebrow, already reaching for another slice. "Because from where I'm sitting, you running from good dick. Multiple good dicks."

"I needed space," Leila adjusts her glasses, a nervous habit that makes her friends exchange looks. "From both of them. From all of it."

"Space?" All three look at her like she's lost her European mind.

"From the situation," she clarifies. "It's complicated."

"What's complicated about your captain being clearly in love with you but too scared to say it?" Yolanda's got that look that means she's about to start speaking truths nobody asked for.

"Or about you dating his teammate to make him jealous?" Kenzi adds, signaling for more wine. "Because baby, that's what you're doing."

"I am NOT—"

"You are." Tasha cuts her off, voice gentle but firm. "And baby? That never ends well. Trust someone who knows."

"Plus," Kenzi adds, "that William seems sweet. He doesn't deserve to be your rebound."

"He's not—"

"He is." All three say it in unison, years of friendship making them a well-oiled truth-telling machine.

"Look," Yolanda sets down her wine glass like she's about to deliver a sermon. "You got these two fine men – both rich, both fine as hell, both clearly interested. One's bringing you food and treating you right, while the other's having whole emotional breakdowns over you but won't say why. And instead of dealing with it, you flew home to eat pizza with us."

"The pizza is good though," Leila mutters.

"Not better than French dick," Tasha coughs into her wine.

The truth of it all hits different over pizza and pinot noir in her hometown, surrounded by friends who've known her since she was wearing Limited Too and dreaming about her first kiss. Maybe she did run. Maybe she's still running.

But maybe she needed to come home to figure out where she's actually trying to go.

"So what are you gonna do?" Kenzi asks softly.

Leila looks down at her phone – no messages from Aurélien, but three from William checking if she landed safely.

"I don't know."

But that's a lie.

She does know.

She's just not ready to admit it yet.

"Well if it isn't the finest women in Atlanta."

The voice makes Leila's entire body cringe before she even looks up. Torrance Johnson – high school quarterback turned local gym trainer – is standing at their table with that same smile that definitely worked better ten years ago.

"Torrance," Yolanda's voice could freeze hell. "Don't you have some protein shakes to blend?"

But he's already focused on Leila, eyes doing that slow scan that makes her wish she'd worn a turtleneck. "Damn girl, Europe's been good to you. When'd you get back?"

"She's not staying," Tasha cuts in. "And she's taken."

"By two men," Kenzi adds helpfully, earning herself a kick under the table.

"Two?" Torrance's eyebrows shoot up. "Nah, can't be. Our Leila? Miss Voted Most Likely to Marry Her Books?"

Something about the way he says it – that hint of dismissal, that suggestion that she couldn't possibly have multiple men interested – reminds her exactly why she left Atlanta in the first place.

Her eyes catch on his deliberately distressed jeans, probably bought that way from some boutique in Buckhead, and suddenly all she can think about is Aurélien. How he dresses like every Atlanta rapper's Pinterest board come to life, all designer streetwear and chains that probably cost more than Torrance's trainer fees.

"You should go," she says finally, not even looking up from her wine. "Your protein shakes are calling."

"Come on now—"

"She said go." Yolanda's voice carries enough attitude to make several nearby tables look over.

He leaves, but not before dropping his card on the table with a wink that probably works better on girls who haven't seen him throw up at prom.

"The audacity," Tasha mutters, reaching for more wine. "Acting like you ain't out here with whole European footballers fighting over you."

"They're not—"

"Girl, if you say they're not fighting one more time," Kenzi cuts in. "We've seen the videos. Your captain looked ready to commit murder in that tunnel."

"And William?" Yolanda adds. "That's not just trying to get some, that's husband behavior."

Leila's phone buzzes – another text from William asking how her first night home is going. Nothing from Aurélien, but Cama has sent her a video of him absolutely destroying the training ground equipment.

"You know what's funny?" she says finally, still staring at her phone. "Aurélien dresses exactly like these Atlanta boys trying to look hard. All ripped jeans and chains and-"

"Baby," Tasha interrupts gently, "the fact that you're thinking about how he dresses tells us everything we need to know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yolanda starts, "that you flew across an ocean to get away from your feelings but you're still noticing his clothes."

"His very expensive clothes," Kenzi adds. "Not whatever Fashion Nova collection Torrance was trying to rock."

"Can we not—"

"Compare them?" Tasha grins. "Too late. We've all seen your Instagram stories. We know exactly what kind of men you're working with now."

"And neither of them," Yolanda adds, "is anything like these local boys trying to act like they're something. Your captain might dress Atlanta, but baby? That man's got that real money energy. And William?"

"Pure class," Kenzi nods. "The way he looks at you in those photos? Like you hung the moon or something."

"Meanwhile Aurélien looks at you like he's trying to figure out how to possess your soul," Tasha observes. "In a hot way."

"Y'all are doing too much," Leila mutters, but her cheeks are warm.

"Are we though?" Yolanda challenges. "Because from where I'm sitting, you've got two whole meals fighting over you in Europe while Torrance 'Peak in High School' Johnson is trying to get your attention with some jeans he probably bought at ASOS."

"The difference," Kenzi adds, "is that Aurélien's probably wearing jeans that cost more than Torrance's car."

"And William's probably never worn distressed anything in his life," Tasha laughs.

"Can we talk about something else?" Leila pleads. "Anything else?"

"Sure," Yolanda grins. "Let's talk about how you're going to handle going back to work. That's coming whether you're ready or not."

The reminder sits heavy in her stomach. One week left of pretending she's not running from her feelings. One week of Georgia comfort before facing reality.

Her phone buzzes again – a text from her mama this time:

That boy called me again. The captain. Asked how you were.

She turns her phone face down.

The chatter at the table felt like a lifeline, a reminder that even with the chaos of her love life — or whatever this was — her friends never changed.

"Alright, y’all," Leila starts, her tone light but her fingers nervously taps her glass. "If we’re gonna dissect my life like this, at least give me something useful. Any advice for handling… all of this?"

"You mean William?" Yolanda grin like she’s been waiting for this moment. "Or both of them?"

"Both," Leila admits, earning a chorus of gasps and exaggerated cheers from around the table.

"You kissed him, though?" Kenzi presses. "William? Wilo? What was it like?"

Leila took a sip of wine, letting the anticipation build. "It was… nice," she says, feigning nonchalance.

"Nice? Girl, come on!" Kenzi groans.

"Fine," Leila relents, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. "It made my kitty purr."

The table erupts, laughter bubbling up loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.

"Big purr!" Yolanda cackles, fanning herself dramatically.

"And yet, you’re still hung up on Aurélien," Tasha says knowingly, swirling her wine like she had the upper hand in this conversation. "You can’t hide that."

"Because he’s got her heart," Yolanda teases. "William might’ve gotten a kiss, but Aurélien’s the one she wants to risk it all for."

"Okay, okay, but," Kenzi cuts in, her tone shifting into unsolicited-advice territory. "If you’re really gonna give Wilo a shot, you need to bring your A-game. Like, head game on ten."

Leila groans, her head falling into her hands. "Why do I feel like I’m about to regret asking this?"

"Because you probably are," Yolanda teases, ignoring her protest. "But listen up. The trick with a guy like William? You gotta be confident. Show him you know what you’re doing. And eye contact. Always."

"Exactly," Kenzi agrees, raising her glass. "And if he gets all quiet or grabs your hair—"

"I’m leaving," Leila interrupts, though she stayed firmly in her seat, face buried in her hands.

"You’re not going anywhere," Tasha says with a smirk. "This is gold, and you know it."

"I can’t believe I’m having this conversation," Leila mutters, peeking up from her hands.

"Believe it, baby," Yolanda says, taking a sip of her drink. "And take notes, because we all know William’s got that 'nice boy' energy, but Aurélien?"

"He’s giving 'break-the-headboard' energy," Tasha finishes matter-of-factly, earning another round of laughter.

Leila tries to glare at Tasha, but the heat rushing to her cheeks betrays her. "Y’all really have no chill, do you?"

"Not when we’re right," Yolanda says, sliding her phone across the table. "Speaking of Aurélien, have you seen this picture of him on the pitch? Look at his tongue."

Leila glances down reluctantly, only to be met with an image of Aurélien mid-game: shirt clinging to his torso, a sheen of sweat glistening under the stadium lights, his tongue peeking out in what was either concentration or defiance. His face was as expressive as ever, eyes lit with determination.

"You’re telling me this man isn’t whispering filthy things in French while making you see God?" Yolanda asks, her tone almost academic.

"I’m saying nothing," Leila says, snatching the phone and flipping it over. "Y’all are too much."

"But we’re not wrong," Kenzi shot back. "Aurélien looks like he’d talk you into doing things you didn’t even know you wanted to do. Just with that voice."

"And that tongue," Yolanda adds, grinning devilishly. "Girl, do you know how expressive his face is? Like, come on. He’s not just scoring goals on the pitch."

"Alright, that’s enough!" Leila protests, trying to keep her composure despite the riotous laughter around her.

"Enough?" Tasha raises a brow. "Girl, we’ve barely started. You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. About him and that—"

"I haven’t!" Leila lies, her voice is a little too high-pitched to be convincing.

"Uh-huh." Yolanda wasn’t buying it. "Listen, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you. That’s not just casual interest. That’s 'call out my name when you’re about to come' energy."

Kenzi nearly spat her drink. "I mean, facts, but damn, Yolanda, say it with your chest."

"She already did," Tasha quipps. "And she’s not wrong. Leila, you’ve got two literal snacks fighting over you. One’s sweet, one’s spicy. You’ve gotta at least taste one."

Leila groans, her face in her hands again. "Y’all are insufferable."

"But you love us," Kenzi says, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "And we love you. We just want you to live your best life. With both of them, if that’s what it takes."

"Big facts," Yolanda says, raising her glass. "To Leila living her best life, with Aurélien, William, and whoever else makes her kitty purr."

Leila couldn’t help but laugh, raising her own glass in surrender. "Y’all are ridiculous."

"Ridiculously right," Tasha says with a wink. "Now, tell us more about that kiss. Did he grab your waist? Your face? Both?"

And just like that, the teasing continued, leaving Leila both mortified and comforted. If nothing else, her girls always had her back, even if it meant roasting her into oblivion in the process.

*********************************************

Leila was halfway through her third slice of pizza at Slim & Husky’s when her phone buzzed on the table. The low hum of conversation and the warm scent of garlic and cheese filled the space, but the message on her screen stole her focus.

Wilo: Can you come to London next weekend? I miss you.

She stared at the words, her stomach twisting in a way that had nothing to do with the food. Her friends were busy splitting a cinnamon roll flight, oblivious to the sudden weight in her chest.

"You good?" Kenzi asks, nudging her shoulder.

Leila blinks, quickly locking her phone. "Yeah. Just Wilo being… Wilo."

"Oh, what’s he saying now?" Yolanda leans in, her curiosity obvious.

"Nothing important," Leila mutters, waving them off.

Her friends gave her knowing looks but didn’t press further. Leila took another bite of pizza, forcing herself to focus on the moment, the laughter, the easy camaraderie. But her phone felt heavier in her pocket now, like it was daring her to check it again.

Later that night, back at home, the scent of fried chicken and collard greens still lingered in the air from dinner. Leila leans against the counter, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long gone lukewarm. The hum of the dishwasher filled the kitchen as her mama wiped down the table, and her daddy sat at the head, finishing the last of his sweet tea with a satisfied sigh.

"That hit the spot, baby," he says, patting his belly. His trucker hat was tipped back on his head, a little smudge of grease still on his hands from unloading earlier.

Her mama smiles, but the look she gave him was clear: We need some girl time.

He caught the silent signal and grins, pushing back his chair. "Alright, I know when I’m not needed. Leila, you make sure your mama doesn’t go pulling out another project this late. I’m gonna grab a shower."

"Yes, sir," Leila says with a small smile, watching him leave the room.

Her mama waited until the sound of the shower started before she finally spoke.

"You got something on your mind, girl?" her mama asks, setting down the dishcloth.

Leila hesitates. "No. Just tired."

Her mama raised a brow but didn’t push. Instead, she grabbed a glass of water and leaned on the counter across from Leila.

"You get my text about Aurélien calling me today?" she asks, her tone deceptively casual.

"Yeah."

"Wanted to check on you. Asked how you’ve been," her mama says, sipping her water.

Leila frowns. "What did you tell him?"

"Told him you’re grown, handling your business," her mama replies easily. "But he sounded worried. Said he missed you.”

Leila’s chest tightens, but she kept her expression cool. "He didn’t say that to me."

"Maybe he’s scared to," her mama says, fixing her with that all-knowing look. "Men don’t always say what they mean, but they show it in other ways."

Leila snorts, shaking her head. "He’s all talk, Mama. If he cared, he’d show up. William’s the one actually trying."

Her mama’s lips quirks up in a small smile. "Maybe. Or maybe you’re just scared of what it would mean if Aurélien came through. Scared to let him in."

Leila looks away, her throat tight. "I’m not scared."

"Sure you’re not," her mama says lightly, pushing off the counter. She paused to kiss the top of Leila’s head. "Just don’t be so busy keeping your options open that you miss out on what you really want."

As her mama walked out of the kitchen, Leila’s phone buzz again.

Wilo: Please, Leila. I just want to see you.

Her thumb hovers over the screen, but her mind isn’t on Wilo. It was on Aurélien and the way his name had sounded coming from her mama’s lips. The way her heart had skipped just a little at the thought of him calling to check on her.

***************************************

Leila only has a few more days at home, and it’s messing with her head. She thought coming back to Atlanta would give her clarity, but instead, it feels like everything is weighing on her even more. The whole thing with Aurélien and Wilo — it’s making everything harder.

Should she quit being Aurélien’s PA to be with Wilo? Or just quit being a PA altogether and finally figure herself out? But if she does quit, she’s not going back to corporate. Hell no. That life nearly drained her dry the first time around, and she’s not making that mistake again.

Still, the idea of starting fresh sounds good — better than being stuck in the middle of whatever this is. But then Wilo texts her again, and curiosity gets the better of her. What could this thing with him really be? Would it work if she gave it a real shot?

It’s late, but she picks up her phone and finally replies.

Leila: I’ll come see you this week.

His response comes almost immediately.

Wilo: This week? You sure?

Leila: Yeah. I’ll let you know when I land.

She doesn’t give herself time to overthink it. By morning, her ticket to London is booked, and by the afternoon, she’s already on her way to the airport. Her mama gives her one of those tight hugs that says, I know you’re up to something, but I’ll let you figure it out. Her daddy tells her to be safe, his attention mostly on the game playing on the living room TV.

The flight is smooth, and she spends most of it bouncing between nervous excitement and second-guessing herself. By the time she lands, her resolve is still intact, but she’s made one decision for sure— she’s not staying at Wilo’s house. That’s too much temptation, and she needs to be as clear-headed as possible.

Her hotel is chic but understated, the kind of place that feels luxurious without screaming it. She texts Wilo her room number once she’s checked in, her pulse kicking up as she sends it.

Not even twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at her door.

When she opens it, Wilo is standing there, dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, but somehow still looking like he just stepped out of a GQ spread. He’s holding a bouquet of white roses and grinning like he’s relieved she actually showed up.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice low and warm.

"Hey," she replies, stepping aside to let him in.

The air between them feels heavy but not uncomfortable. He hands her the flowers, his fingers brushing hers in a way that sends a jolt straight through her.

"I wasn’t sure if you were serious," he admits, watching her as she sets the flowers on the desk near the window.

"I was," she says, turning to face him. "I just… needed to make sure I was doing this for the right reasons."

"And?"

"And I’m here," she says simply, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Wilo steps closer, his gaze steady and unflinching. "I’m glad you are."

Leila feels her heart skip, but she keeps her cool, determined to stay clear-headed and focused. She’s not here to get swept away — at least, that’s what she tells herself.

"So," she says, breaking the moment before it gets too intense. "What’s the plan?"

He grins, his dimples making an appearance. "I thought we’d just wing it. Unless you’ve got something in mind?"

"Wing it works," she says, grabbing her jacket.

As they head out, she can’t help but wonder if she’s walking into something that will make everything even more complicated — or if, for once, it might actually lead to something real.

Leila and Wilo keep it low-key, staying under the radar as much as possible. No fancy dinners or crowded hotspots — just little moments that feel easy. They grab coffee at a quiet café tucked into a side street, the kind of place with mismatched chairs and a barista who doesn’t even blink at Wilo’s recognizable face.

Later, they wander through a park, laughing about something stupid Wilo said. It’s simple, and it feels good — so good that Leila starts to think this could actually work.

At one point, they find themselves in a small record store. Wilo flips through vinyls, holding one up every now and then with a smug grin. "You’d love this," he says, handing her a Prince album.

Leila rolls her eyes but takes it anyway, her fingers brushing against his for a second too long. It’s moments like this that make her question everything she thought she wanted or didn’t want.

As they sit down for a late lunch at a quiet bistro, she sneaks a photo of Wilo, mid-laugh, the light catching just right on his face. She uploads it to her Close Friends story, tagging it with a coy little caption: London’s treating me well.

Her Close Friends list is carefully curated. Aurélien isn’t on it — he never has been — but Jules and Cama are. And if she knows anything about them, they’re definitely going to report back.

And she doesn’t care.

Part of her wants them to. She wants Aurélien to see the photo, to know she’s here, to feel something. Everyone keeps saying he has feelings for her, but he’s never done anything to prove it. No grand gesture, no confession, not even a drunken text. If he has feelings, he hides them well, and Leila’s tired of guessing.

As the day goes on, though, her phone stays silent. No text, no DM, nothing. She tries to push it out of her mind, focusing on Wilo instead. He’s attentive, sweet, and clearly into her, and she knows she should be grateful for that.

But as much as she tries to stay present, Aurélien lingers in the back of her mind.

When she gets back to her hotel that evening, Wilo walks her to her door, his hand lingering at her lower back. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him with a soft smile.

"Not tonight," she says, her voice gentle but firm.

Wilo steps back, nodding. "I get it," he says, his tone understanding. "Goodnight, Leila."

"Goodnight," she replies, watching him walk away before stepping into her room.

As she sits on the edge of the bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, she starts to wonder if it’s time to cut her losses entirely. Maybe Aurélien’s silence is her answer. Maybe it’s time to stop waiting for something that’s never going to happen.

She exhales sharply, tossing her phone onto the nightstand. Whatever happens next, she knows one thing for sure: she’s done chasing after a man who won’t meet her halfway.

Leila wakes up to the soft hum of her phone vibrating against the nightstand. She groggily grabs it, squinting at the screen. A text from Wilo.

Wilo: Training’s at nine. Match starts at six. Rest up so you don’t fall asleep in the stands.

She rolls her eyes but smiles, setting the phone down. Today is her last full day in London, and as much as she’s enjoyed the ease of her time with Wilo, the reality of going back to Madrid looms like a cloud over her.

By the time she’s up and moving, Wilo’s already at the training ground, leaving her with a slow morning to herself. She takes her time getting ready, picking out a sleek but casual outfit for the game: a fitted cream sweater tucked into high-waisted jeans and ankle boots. Makeup just this side of "I woke up like this" but definitely intentional and finally using her contact lenses (bout goddamn time).

As the day creeps toward evening, she grabs an Uber to the stadium. She’s buzzed into the VIP entrance, her name already on the list, and escorted to her seat in the family section. The energy inside the stadium is electric, fans chanting and waving scarves as the teams warm up. She watches Wilo out on the pitch, his warmup jacket zipped up to his chin as he jogs and stretches. He looks calm, focused, and seeing him like this — so in his element — makes her chest tighten in a way she wasn’t expecting.

The match kicks off, and it’s tense from the start. Liverpool presses hard, their attacks relentless, but Arsenal holds their own. Wilo is sharp on the ball, threading passes with precision and orchestrating plays like he was born to do it. Leila watches, captivated, her hands gripping the edge of her seat every time he makes a dangerous run or intercepts a pass.

At halftime, the score is still 0-0, and the tension in the stadium is palpable. Leila scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself, but her notifications are quiet. She had half-expected a message from Jules or Cama, but apparently, they’ve decided to keep their mouths shut or maybe Aurélien just doesn’t care.

The second half is even more intense. Liverpool finally scores, and the stadium goes silent except for the away fans celebrating. But Arsenal fights back, and in the 50th minute, Wilo delivers a stunning assist that leads to an equalizer. The crowd erupts, and Leila finds herself on her feet, cheering and clapping like she’s been an Arsenal fan her whole life.

When the final whistle blows, the game ends in a 2-2 draw. It’s not a win, but it’s a hard-fought point, and the energy in the stadium reflects that.

After the match, she’s escorted to the family area. She spots Bukayo Saka almost immediately, his bright smile unmistakable as he chats with a group of people. He notices her standing off to the side and makes his way over.

"Hey, you’re Wilo’s friend, right?" Bukayo asks, extending a hand.

Leila shakes it, her lips curving into a polite smile. "Yeah, Leila. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. He’s been talking about you all week."

Her cheeks warm at that, but she keeps her composure. "Hopefully, only good things."

Bukayo laughs. "Yeah, don’t worry. All good things."

They chat for a bit, Bukayo’s easygoing nature making the conversation flow effortlessly. He’s mid-sentence when someone else calls out to him, and he waves before excusing himself. Leila glances around the room, her eyes landing on a familiar figure — Ibou Konaté.

Ibou catches her gaze and raises an eyebrow. "So. You and Wilo, it's serious, huh?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't start."

He chuckles, those famous dimples appearing. "Brussels was interesting. Aurélien wasn't exactly subtle about his mood."

Leila freezes. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on," Ibou says, leaning in. "You think Les Bleus don't talk? After those Israel and Belgium matches? Aure looked like he was one bad pass away from committing murder every time Wilo was mentioned." His tone is knowing, just this side of teasing. "He's not gonna like this. Not one bit."

"Ibou—" she starts, a warning in her voice.

He holds up his hands. "Just saying. Some captains get… particular about things." The way he says it makes it clear he's talking about Aurélien specifically. "Wilo's a good guy. But Aure? Man's complicated."

Leila can't help the small laugh that escapes. "Tell me about it."

She chats with Ibou for a few more minutes then he gave her a hug before he left. Her phone then buzzes. A text from Wilo.

Wilo: Where you at?

She types a quick response: Family area. Waiting on you.

A few minutes later, he appears, freshly showered and dressed in casual streetwear. His eyes find hers instantly, and he makes his way over, his lips curving into a soft smile.

"Tired?" he asks, sitting down beside her.

"Not really," she lies. In truth, the emotional weight of the day — of the entire trip — is starting to catch up with her.

"Good," he says. "I want to take you out for one last drink before you leave."

She hesitates, but only for a second. "Okay," she says, her voice steady.

They leave the stadium together, slipping out a side exit to avoid the lingering fans and media. The bar he takes her to is quiet and intimate, tucked away in a corner of the city she doesn’t recognize. They sit in a cozy booth, nursing their drinks and talking about everything and nothing.

For a moment, it feels easy — like they’re just two people enjoying each other’s company without the weight of the world pressing down on them.

But as the night winds down, the reality of her impending departure settles heavily between them.

"Thanks for today," she says as they stand outside the bar, the cool night air nipping at her skin.

"Anytime," he says, his eyes searching hers.

She knows she should say more — explain how much she’s appreciated his kindness, his patience, his effort — but the words catch in her throat.

Wilo steps closer, his hands finding her waist in a way that feels both casual and deliberate. "Can I take you back?" he asks, his voice low and warm.

She nods, and just like that, they’re walking back to her hotel. The streets are quieter now, the city winding down around them. Leila keeps her hands in her pockets, but Wilo’s presence beside her feels grounding, a steady reminder that for tonight, she doesn’t have to figure everything out.

At the hotel entrance, she pauses, not quite ready to say goodbye. "You don’t have to walk me all the way up," she says softly.

"Didn’t plan to," he teases, though his smile is gentle.

Still, he lingers. He tilts her chin up with a finger, his touch light, testing. When she doesn’t pull away, he leans down and kisses her. It’s soft at first, a question she answers without hesitation, leaning into him like she’s been waiting for this all night.

His hands slide to her hips, pulling her closer, and for a moment, she forgets everything — Aurélien, the uncertainty, the nagging voice in her head telling her this is a bad idea. All she knows is the warmth of Wilo’s lips against hers, the way he tastes like the pint he ordered earlier, the way he makes her feel wanted.

When they break apart, she’s breathless, her heart pounding. "I should…" she starts, but the rest of the sentence never comes.

"You should," he agrees, though there’s a glint in his eye that says he knows she won’t.

Panic creep into her thoughts, uninvited but impossible to ignore. Wilo is right here, and he’s been nothing but good to her. Why is she still holding back?

"Do you want to come up?" The question slips out before she can stop it, her voice quieter than she intended.

Wilo studies her for a beat, searching her face for something —hesitation, regret, a reason to say no. Whatever he finds seems to satisfy him, because he nods. "Yeah," he says simply.

The elevator ride to her floor is silent, the air between them charged. By the time they reach her room, her nerves are buzzing, though she doesn’t quite know if it’s anticipation or anxiety.

Inside, she tosses her bag onto the chair and turns to face him. He’s already close, closing the distance between them in two strides. This time, his kiss isn’t soft or questioning - it’s confident, urgent, like he’s been waiting for her permission all night.

Her hands find their way to his shoulders, then his chest, sliding under the fabric of his shirt. His skin is warm, his muscles taut under her touch. He groans softly against her lips, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

"Leila," he murmurs, his voice rough. It’s not a question, but it feels like one, like he’s giving her a chance to stop this before it goes too far.

But she doesn’t want to stop. Not tonight. Not when everything feels this good, this right.

"Don’t think," she whispers, her words muffled against his lips, feeling a pull to give in even though her mind is screaming at her to stop.

It feels too good — his mouth on hers, his hands now sliding under the hem of her sweater, fingertips brushing her skin in a way that sends a bolt of heat straight through to her kitty. For a second, she can forget everything. Forget the uncertainty, the guilt. Forget Aurélien and the pressure of what she’s supposed to want, what she’s supposed to feel.

Her heart beats faster, and the only thing that matters is the way Wilo’s kiss deepens, pulling her closer as if they’re both drowning in each other, but even as she gets lost in the sensation, the thought of what this means for later creeps up, a whisper in her mind.

Stop before you do something you’ll regret, her inner voice warns, and it’s almost a shout against the moment. She should pull away, tell him this is a mistake, that she’s not ready to complicate things more than they already are.

Yet then, the conversation with her girls back in Atlanta echoes in her mind. Because why should she keep hanging on to something that wasn’t even clear? Wilo is here, and he’s been nothing but good to her. He’s showing her attention — something she craves, something that’s been missing for too long.

She breathes in, pulling away just enough to look at him, her hands resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palms. Her voice is barely a whisper, but it carries a weight. "I’m not... I’m not gonna go all the way," she says, almost like a promise, though part of her wishes she could just let go.

Wilo doesn’t pull away, his eyes searching hers, gauging her intentions. "Just a taste, then?" he murmurs, the question laced with a little teasing but also an understanding. He isn’t pushing her. He’s letting her make the call.

A part of her wants to shake her head, to step back and stop this before it goes too far. She knows better, knows she shouldn’t be using him to fill a gap that Aurélien has left wide open. However, Wilo’s not asking for anything more than what she’s willing to give him right now — and, hell, maybe she needs it. Plus, he got her panties wetter than a Slip N' Slide.

She smiles a little, though it’s hesitant, her mind still conflicted. "Yeah," she says softly, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "Just a taste."

And in that moment, it feels like a decision.

His lips are back on hers instantly, and the kiss deepens with an urgency that’s different now, like they both know the boundaries but are still curious enough to see how far they can go. His hands are sliding back to her waist, tugging her closer until she can feel the heat of him through their clothes.

Wilo’s hands are warm, exploring, but careful. He’s taking his time, sensing her hesitation, allowing her the space to pull back if she needs it. But she doesn’t. Instead, she lets herself go, leaning into the moment as his lips travel to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Every kiss feels like a promise she isn’t sure she’s ready to make, but she’s here, and she’s going to live in the now. She’s not sure how much longer she can keep pretending she doesn’t want this, doesn’t want him.

Leila can feel her pulse quicken as Wilo’s hands slide down her arms, gently tugging at the fabric of her sweater. The air between them crackles with the same electricity that had been building ever since her first day in London.

With a soft tug, he pulls the sweater over her head, leaving her in just a bra. She can feel the cool air of the hotel room against her skin and Wilo’s eyes don’t leave hers as he strips off his own shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. She feels her breath hitch, the sight of him sending a wave of heat through her.

He notices her reaction, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and teasing.

Ho-ly shit. Leila nods, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just… wasn’t expecting all of that."

He chuckles softly and gets closer, his hands resting gently on her hips before his lips find hers. Leila kisses him back, feeling the pull of desire stir within her.

They stumble backward onto the bed, their lips still tangled in a kiss, the heat between them intensifying. She can’t help but enjoy the feel of his hands on her body, the way his fingers move with intention, his touch confident yet tender. When his hands wander, brushing along her sides and up her back before copping a feel on her titties, his dick pressing against her thigh; she arches into him instinctively. His touch makes her feel seen, cherished, in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.

Leila wonders what would happen if she let go entirely. What if she just let herself be free of all the things that tie her down?

Even in the heat of it all, a small part of her pulls back. She remembers the life she’s built — the career she’s worked for — and wonders if she’s willing to risk it all for something that might be temporary.

Her phone starts vibrating. Once. Twice.

One of Wilo's hands is tracing lazy circles along her lower back. "Ignore it," he murmurs, his lips still brushing the shell of her ear.

She does — until the phone goes nuclear. Ping. Ping. Ping-ping-ping. A digital storm that practically rattles the walls.

Wilo raises an eyebrow, pulling back just enough to glance at her phone. "Damn," he mutters under his breath.

Her screen is chaos. Four missed calls. Multiple texts. And, of course, a voice note from Aurélien.

The timing? Almost comical. Almost.

Leila swipes open the messages. They’re an avalanche — each one more urgent than the last. Her thumb hovers over the voice note, hesitant but not enough to stop her. A ticking time bomb of potential drama.

She looks at Wilo, a flicker of guilt passing through her, before her eyes drift back to the phone. Wilo doesn’t move, just watches her, unreadable.

"Give me a sec," she mutters, pulling away from him and sliding off the bed. The space between them feels too wide now, too obvious, but she ignores it, heading for the bathroom.

Door closed. Her back pressed against it, she lifts the phone to her ear.

Aurélien's voice hits her like a slap. Broken. Fragmented. Each word jagged, like he's stumbling through a maze of his own making.

"Leila, I—" His breath hitches. "I can't—" The silence is thick, filled with the things he's too scared to say. "Je suis—"

Her heart, traitorous as ever, speeds up. She presses the phone tighter to her ear, her own breath shaky in response to his.

Another ping. A text. She opens it without thinking.

First, a video. Aurélien's hands. His long fingers dancing over the piano keys in that way she knows too well. The melody — raw, unfinished. Like he’s trying to patch a hole in the air between them.

Then, a screenshot. A letter. A confession. Handwritten, messy, vulnerable. It’s almost too much to take.

Her breath catches.

The world outside the bathroom door feels distant. Almost unreal. Her mind pulls her back, urging her to breathe, to think. But the words on the screen? They’re the kind that push all logic aside.

Her finger hovers over the phone, but she can’t bring herself to delete the message. She opens it again.

The letter fills the screen, and it makes her chest tighten as she reads.

"I don’t know how to say it — words always fail me when it matters most. I’ve tried so many times, but each time, the words slip away like sand between my fingers. So this time, I’m writing it down. Maybe that’s all I can do. Maybe it’s enough to be honest.

You’ve become the quiet in my chaos. The calm in my storm. You’re the one I think about when I’m too tired to think about anything else. The one I reach for when I feel like I’m losing myself. But I never said it. And I should have. I should have said it, Leila. I should have been better at telling you that you matter, that you're my rock, more than just okay.

Maybe it’s too late now. But please know, it’s never been anyone else but you.

I’m sorry for not being brave enough before. But I’m here now. I’m ready to fight for this, if you are.

Aurelien."

She gasps as she finishes reading. His words, they hit different than before. She’s used to his confidence, his charm, his ability to make everything feel effortless. But this? This is him. Vulnerable. Honest. The rawness of it leaves her heart aching in places she didn't even know were sore.

It’s a love letter in its truest sense — one that doesn’t gloss over the mistakes, but lays them bare. The kind that you don’t often hear. And for the first time, she feels it. He’s finally saying the things he should have said long ago.

But is it too late?

The question sits heavy on her chest, and she hates that she even has to ask. She wants to be angry. She wants to throw his words back at him and walk away. But she can’t. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s been holding on to him, or because she’s scared of what this newfound honesty means. All she knows is that his words have shattered the wall she’s been building around her heart.

Aurelien’s been her whole world for so long. Maybe she’s been waiting for him to catch up, to finally see her the way she’s always seen him. But she’s not sure she has the strength to wait any longer.

She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to clear her mind. The cool air in the bathroom doesn’t help. Neither does the soft knock on the door.

"Everything alright?" Wilo’s voice is low, gentle, and when she doesn’t answer immediately, he pushes it open just a fraction.

Her heart skips at the sight of him. He’s standing there. He doesn’t need words to understand what’s going on. He can see it in her face, in the way her hands are trembling slightly as she holds the phone.

"I’ll be fine," she says, her voice a little too sharp. It’s not his fault. None of this is his fault.

Wilo doesn’t press. He just steps into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, his gaze steady, like he’s giving her the space to breathe and figure it out for herself.

She stares at the phone again, knowing she can’t keep going back to the message. But it’s impossible to look away from it now. His words are etched in her mind, replaying over and over again. She thought she was over him. That she could move on, that the pieces would fall into place. Yet now?

She’s not sure.

Finally, she slides the phone back into her pocket, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"I don’t know what to do," she whispers, more to herself than to Wilo, but he hears her. He always does.

"You don’t have to decide right now," he says softly, but there’s a certain weight to his words. "You’re allowed to take your time, Leila."

Her chest tightens at the gentleness in his voice. He’s not pushing her. Not demanding answers. This isn’t about picking between him and Aurelien. It’s about what she wants, what she’s willing to fight for.

And the truth is, she’s tired. Tired of waiting, tired of not being seen, tired of trying to make things fit where they don’t.

But the letter… the letter is the first time he’s shown up for her, even if it’s a little too late. She doesn’t know if it’s enough to make up for everything, but it’s a start.

Leila takes a deep breath meeting Wilo’s gaze for the first time, really looking at him. He’s patient, understanding. And in his eyes, she doesn’t see the same questions that have been haunting her.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "For being here."

Wilo doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he pulls her gently back into his arms, and for a moment, she lets herself feel the warmth of his presence, the steadiness of him.

But in the back of her mind, Aurelien’s words linger.

It’s never been anyone else but you.

Is it too late to believe him?

.............tbd

[joanquill]

Truck-kun Did It

Now coming to terms that you were no longer in the world you knew, you now have to face your saviors, the Lord of Crime. Continuation of "How I Got Sent to Another World"

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had writer's block, so I can't guarantee this is good 🙃 It's also my first time doing a taglist so I hope this is correct, I also only added the ones who explicitly said they wanted to be added just in case 😅 Tag/s: Fem!Modern!Asian!Reader Warning/s: Profanity

"Ugh..." you groaned as you turned to your side, moving your hands to feel silk sheets covering you.

Bewildered, you shot up and found yourself in a luxurious room lying in bed, creating more questions.

You removed the sheets, seeing your hands and ankles covered in bandages.

You were still in your clothes last night, but your body didn't feel as sticky or dirty as before.

"What is going on...?" you muttered, trying to recall what happened last night.

"Right... The newspaper, and those three men... But wh-" the sound of knocking snapped you out of your thoughts, making you turn to the door.

Before you could react, a blond man with glasses opened the door, pushing a trolley with a cloche.

"Ah, you're awake, Good." he greeted as he saw you sitting in bed, pushing the trolley to your side.

"Miss (Y/N), I believe?"

"Oh-Yes! I'm (Y/N) (L/N)... And you are...?"

"Louis James Moriarty,"

"Lou-" you stopped yourself as you recalled the character of the same name, bearing a striking resemblance to the man before you.

'There's no way... right...?'

"I hope this meal fits your palette," he opened the cloche and revealed a plate of omelet rice, bacon, and beans.

You gulped at the sight, feeling your stomach grumble as you gripped your hands.

"Here, you likely haven't-" you snatched the spoon and fork from Louis' hands and ate heartily. Each bite tasted better than the last.

"So good..." you muttered, ecstatic to finally have something to eat and finish the meal instantly.

"Ah-! Thank you so much for the meal! I haven't eaten anything since lunch..." you awkwardly laughed, making Louis widen his eyes.

"...I'm glad you enjoyed your breakfast," he replied, surprising you.

"Breakfast?" you repeated, looking outside the window to see the sun shining brightly.

"Ah, right..." you mumbled, feeling the same dread and unease as last night as you looked down on your clothes.

"Ah, an associate of ours cleaned you up last night. I believe she put it inside your nightstand," Louis reassured as you nodded, looking at the bandages.

"She also treated your hands, knees, and feet. If you are feeling better, please stop by at the parlor downstairs,"

"O-Okay, thank you again, Mister Louis..." you blurted, earning a nod as he pushed the trolley out and closed the door behind him.

You took a deep breath and sighed--almost a whine-- as you leaned back on the bed.

"So all of this is real..." you muttered, looking around the room again, now noticing the familiarities in the series.

"There's no way... right? Then again, there's no way I could have gone back to freaking Victorian Era England-- And yet, here we are!" you grumbled as you raised your hands in defeat, pacing in the room.

"That reminds me..." you patted your clothes, feeling nothing but your body.

"Right... No pockets. It's all in my bag... Which I probably lost back when I-" you stopped as your blood turned cold, "...When I got hit by that truck..." you sighed, dropping down to your knees.

You took another deep breath as you stood up, going over to the nightstand and seeing the cloak washed and your shoes on the side of the bed.

"If this world really is from Moriarty the Patriot..." you grumbled as you put on your shoes and grabbed the cloak, "Then that means this place is..."

"Miss (L/N), good morning," William greeted you with a courteous smile from his seat.

Albert sitting on the chair beside him, Sebastian, Bonde, and Fred were on the couch, while Louis, Jack, and Moneypenny stood in the room.

'Oh God... They really are...' you gulped as you put on a smile, nervously walking up to the room.

"Good morning...! Um... thank you again for your help," you greeted back, making William smile as the others kept their wary eyes on you.

'Please don't kill me... I'm broke- I mean, not rich...' you prayed in your head as you stayed in your spot, holding your hands tightly.

"Well then, shall we get going?" he asked as he stood up, grabbing his cane as you blinked at him.

"...Excuse me?"

"Your home, miss," he clarified, making you hum in understanding.

"Right...! Of course...." you nodded, following him out of the manor.

'...What the fuck do I do now?'

You kept quiet as you restlessly looked out of the window of the carriage while William sat across from you, observing your every move.

"We should be far enough by now," he spoke up as he looked outside, catching you by surprise as he gave you a calculating smile.

"Now then, would you mind clearing some confusion of mine?"

"...Okay," 'I'm pretty sure I'm dead if I don't, anyway,'

"Judging by your appearance and conduct, I assume you're well-off enough to not be living in the streets, such as how we found you last night,"

You took a breath you didn't know you were holding and exhaled.

"Right..."

"You seem to be in the working class. However, I do not recall any occupation a woman can have that will lead to bloodshot eyes, fatigue, numbness and pain in the wrist, and poor posture-- which explains the neck and back pain," he continued, making you touch the back of your neck.

"It's as if your work asks you to sit down for a prolonged period of time... Perhaps with a typewriter?" you held on your wrist, and sure enough, the pain from working in front of the computer is still there.

"...I'm an office worker-err uhm...! A clerk, I guess...? As you say here? Sorry, English isn't my mother tongue," you nervously chuckled, but William kept his serious gaze.

"Now, for your clothes..." he continued, making you feel conscious as you covered yourself.

"Ah, I apologize. It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable,"

"N-No, it's fine... They're my work clothes," you explained, knowing lying or trying to trick him would be a mistake.

"I see... And where do you work?" he asked, making you gulp.

"...It's not exactly easy to explain..."

"Take your time. This carriage is only circling the block, after all," he reassured with a smile, shocking you as you looked outside, seeing it was Fred in disguise driving the carriage.

"...Of course..."

"Now then," William smiled as he pulled out a traveling tea set, setting it up as he poured you a cup.

"Shall we continue our discussion?"

Extra:

The reader after realizing most of the food/convenient items they know are either inaccessible or haven't been invented yet AND learning the hygiene practices of the Victorian Era:

Taglist: @stayblinkarmyatinymoafearnot, @tinkerleaf, @muqingswife, @jungpuss, @rekisgay, @ih3artpjo, @sparklysoullover

[yannaryartside]

First of all, thank you so much for such a detailed answer.

I really think some scenes may not make sense in a medical context, the injection to the kid, for example, but are used to highlight Claire's attitude towards her patients. Other blogs have talked about this scene as a parallel to her relationship with Carmy, because she liked her to distract him from the pain as she did with the kid/

HOWEVER

Regarding the allergy thing, I am betting that is a flag they planted so people could suspect the grenade that relationship was the whole time. When you said:

"But my BIGGEST red flag in all this was that- normal doctors are not morbidly fascinated with death and disease. There is NOTHING even remotely romantic about that; most of us are so burnt out by it." the way other doctors would be concerned about an attitude like Claire's got me thinking of something...

On top of that, she does seem fascinated by people in pain or in crisis; there is this scene in Pop when she says, "Michael was fun, he would say things on fire," which was a dialogue way out of character for a medical professional. She also mentioned being used to being around sad and drunk people, and that made me think she saw Carmy as another drunk, sad person for her to fix or another patient in crisis for her to medicate (with kisses and a pleasing attitude).

It is concerning how much the show used Claire's profession to make the audience think she is this angel on earth and also keep raising red flags after another. We never see her being nice to other people who are not her patients, dysfunctional friends, or even more dysfunctional Berzattos.

It reminded me of this psychology professor who warned us that in movies, you are not supposed to make a narcissist look like a hero because, at that point, the audience will be caught in the manipulation too far to reverse it.

They even went to the extent of forcing the audience into her pov in s3, as we are supposed to root for her because she is caring for people while heartbroken, the Faks come and tell her she is the one to take care of Carmen (because she also takes such good care of her patients) and then. THEN they thought the flashback of her talking about almost killing her patient for an allergy. I still see posts of pro Claire people that say that scene was to make her look human, and I was like "I am sorry, do you want us to feel bad because she can read and almost killed someone?" They put a magic trick there to make us follow her as a doctor just to tell us she may be rather dangerous for others in her position. That she presents herself as competent when she knows she is not. I, for what is worth, really didn't see regret on her face while telling that story.

THE LACK OF EMPHATY, the ROMATICIZING THE PAIN IN OTHERS. You explained that so well I am so glad I was not imagining shit.

It screams that Claire enjoys being around dysfunctional people so she can feel good by attempting to fix them and receiving love and loyalty in return. She even created a whole romantic relationship based in that and I am supposed to feel bad for her. No, I don't trust this woman and Carmy now thinks she is at peace and what he needs and everybody keeps telling him to return to her.

It is almost like (metaphorically) Carmy has set himself on fire (his mental illness) and now he is gonna go directly to a person (Claire) who cannot even apply the right treatment for him, because she is indeed incompetent and lacks the empathy to actually help him and feel for his issues, and will allow him to continue to burn as long as she feels needed by him.

Sorry to vent, that took a dark turn. But the more I think about this subject, the more unnerving it becomes. Thank you @sydneysrissotto. tagging @whenmemorydies @brokenwinebox and @thoughtfulchaos773

I'm waiting for my residency match, so while I wait, let me tell you that being a doctor doesn't look anything at all like how they've shown Claire. I wish the showrunners did some research.

[tidesfate]

I might get some flack for doing this, but I don't care and I think it needs to be said.

What is happening in the US is not a small thing. There are many people, many people on tumblr specifically, that will be and already have been affected. This is not some annoyance at a political situation; this is rights being removed, and many people fear for themselves and/or their family or friends. People who have done nothing more than choose to live. If you are not from the US, please do not tease or belittle what people are going through. Remember, a good chunk did not vote for this to happen. People didn't want this to happen.

If people need to vent or defuse on their blog, let them. This is currently appearing to be one of the only sites right now that isn't in the hands of the people in power. Many other sites are not safe. It's also their blog. If you don't like it, then you are allowed to unfollow. On the flip side, if people do not wish to talk about this at all, do not push them. Please be aware others dealing with this may want cw tagging, and please respect that.

People may disappear off blogs or only have energy for what interests them the most. This shouldn't be required to say have patience as this should be a general tumblr rule anyways, but have patience.

And to anyone that needs to hear this, hope is not lost. Things look bleak, but we have always been here and we always will be. Do not bend knee; if you must fight, fight. If you must lie, lie. Do what you need, but remember you are not alone even in times where they try to isolate.

Finally; if you voted for Trump or support anything happening, get the fuck off my blog. I don't want you here.

[sevicia]

omg. hi dante.... i was just running thru ur oc tag for my oc blog, but who is mary and how can i learn everything about her?! mary cheat sheet please, blab as much as you want on this ask, im so curious 🙂‍↕️

HIIIIIII God I'm so happy you asked I love to ramble about her!!!

Prefacing this by saying that in all honestly some things kinda may not make sense because I'm uhmm. Figuring it out<3 Also there's mentions of violence but nothing graphic. Due to the way she is.

OKAAAY so some basic things about her are that she's 24, currently working at a gas station (previously a fine arts student), has no family to speak of, and is dating Agnes (wet guy you may or may not have seen</3). Her "life goal" or biggest desire is to be "one" with somebody in the most literal sense of the word.

A very not brief maybe even unnecessarily long recount of her life so far:

As a kid she was odd, spacey and awkward, and could not grasp "basic" concepts as quickly as her peers did. She often had to be told what was right and what was wrong because her understanding of morality as a whole was just... not there at all. She would stare intensely with a blank expression at things/people she found interesting, and had a pretty flat tone when speaking overall. She never had any pets; her behavior towards animals raised concerns in her parents (+ their friends) since she had a tendency to squeeze, pull or even strangle them whenever she could, all because she thought they were cute and liked feeling their warmth when she held them and as they struggled, kinda like cute aggression maybe. She just really struggled to understand others and have them understand her in return; most people wouldn't even bother trying.

She attended a religious school up until she graduated highschool, and her parents would take her to church very often, but all she'd do was space out until service was over. She didn't really care nor understand what the priests and church members talked about, and her mindset was that she just had to do as she was told and everything would be ok; it didn't matter that she wasn't all the way there.

Around middle school age she managed to make friends (through the power of practicing facial expressions and noting what other kids said and did). This was a bittersweet experience as she got made fun of quite a bit for not really getting why certain jokes or games were funny, but also found friends that did like her and that she liked beyond just tolerating.

At one point they'd planned an outing together to go see a movie, and Mary brought it up to her parents, but they said no. This was the first time in years she'd been excited and actually wanted to do something, so she tried to convince them by telling them that one of her friend's parents would be watching over them at all times (which was actually true! They planned it this way so Mary could come in the first place), but they just wouldn't have it, and the argument ended with her father slapping her after she just wouldn't give up and drop the subject.

Mary had never been hit before, and she'd always had a freakishly high pain tolerance, so really it wasn't the pain from the slap itself that shocked her, but the fact that her dad had hit her at all for something she had figured wouldn't escalate to that point, based on watching her friends' experiences. In her head then she started feeling like a child again, thoughts like "I just have to do as they say" and "what I want doesn't really matter", but with an added layer of "I'm not worth being listened to", and a feeling of dehumanization she couldn't really put into words yet.

In the end, the shock lead to her avoiding her friends completely and only going outside for school and church, basically losing all those years of progress regarding her individuality and her ability to even see herself as an individual at all.

Towards the end of highschool, she was confessed to by the son of her parents' friends from church. He told her to "think about it", and when she told her parents later that day, they told her that it'd be wonderful if they dated, and joked about her still being "such an airhead" to even ask in the first place.

So they start dating, and through his and her parent's pressure she kinda just... molds into whatever he wants. This is why she dyes her hair black and starts dressing in more modest, plain clothes, all the while losing sleep over "this is my life now and forever", a horrifying thought that became all the more real once he proposed to her and she saw no other option but to accept.

Here I just have to mention that those notions of her self not mattering and never being listened to/understood, plus being constantly reduced into something sanitized and non-violent, much less threatening, had all mixed together into wanting just that; to be understood, listened to and accepted as a whole, including every violent and/or sexual thought she'd ever buried within herself after being told they were "unsightly". Basically, what she wants is to be known entirely, inside and out, by someone who'll let her do the same and take her as she is.

While she had no desire to ever pursue the kind of "love" she wanted and couldn't care less about the "sanctity" of marriage, she did know very well that it would trap her legally, physically and mentally into a life she'd hate and would never escape until either of them (or their parents) died.

The wedding was planned to take place early in the year; only a few weeks after her 22nd birthday.

To "celebrate" her birthday, her and uh. that other guy (that I cannot refer to as her boyfriend/fiancé)(I'd rather shoot myself) "decide" go on a camping trip, something only he'd done before and that Mary was fully dreading.

They get there, and the day is pretty much spent on him taking her around the site and talking at her or with other men while she nodded along, barely present enough to know when and where she was. By now her sense of reality had been so shattered due to trying to run away from her own life, she'd stopped caring about anything at all.

And then night comes and they're camping with a view of the lake and he falls asleep but Mary's still awake, now used to not being able to fall asleep until very, very late into the night. She's just sitting outside their tent, and when she looks towards the forest she sees some sort of faint glow that she just... decides to follow for something to do, not caring whether she'd get lost, or murdered, or abducted, or ever make it back to the campsite.

She follows the glow for a while, her brain getting more and more scrambled with every step, and suddenly she's in a clearing and hearing whispers both from inside her head and all around her.

...there is some dialogue of sorts but this is so long already I'll try to be brief here... at least... plus this is where things are kinda loose so yaaay</3

Basically, an odd whisper that she ends up referring to as an angel offers her a gift to help her achieve her desired form of "love": she will be able to heal and reconstruct another person, as long as they're wounded and so is she, by pressing their wounds together and merging their bodies this way; she would, in a sense, be part of them in the most literal sense.

The only caveat is that she would be completely removed from her previous life. As in, everyone that ever knew her would never even know she existed in the first place; she would be 100% wiped from their memories and any records they had of her would be adjusted so that she wouldn't be in their lives anymore in any way.

Obviously she says yes, some flesh-absorbing stuff happens, and when she gets back to the campsite she wakes the guy up, watches him get startled over some stranger standing over him, and promptly bashes his head in with a rock until he stops moving... and then some more.

Now she's finally able to think and act by/for herself, and she kiiinda doesn't know how to do that very well? So it takes her a while to adjust to. She slowly goes back to her habit of staring blankly for extended periods of time, but is now able to smile genuinely and stumble her way through saying "no", though she's still polite to an almost unsettling degree.

She's also finally started to look for someone that she can love and share herself with, and she realizes pretty quickly that her type is gloomy, lonely and pitiful-looking people that flinch at everything, both for cuteness aggression sadism reasons, but also her believing that someone who doesn't value their life much would be a lot more willing to take her in and let themselves be taken as well than someone more lively and strong-willed.

For a while she chases people who fit her type, trying to find "the one", with the final test being her getting them alone and trying to kill them (basically), just to see how little they really value their life. The trick is, if they fight back or hesitate she goes through with it and kills them, but if they let go and give up their life to her, she lets them live.

By the point she meets Agnes she's pretty unapologetic about it all, and has stopped caring much about anyone but whoever she's set her sights on, though still disconnected from reality and society as a whole in many ways. They meet when he stops by her workplace and she's like Ohhhhh he looks so miserable I have GOT to torture him. And she chases him around and scares him a little (a lot) but he makes no effort to run away or even acknowledge it in any way, and is the first one to ever pass her test!

I think that's um. Pretty much it... uhh some fun facts: she's super bad with technology, has a wide creepy and sweet (TO ME!!!) grin on her face more often than not, her apartment's a mess, her favorite artificial flavor is strawberry, she loooves to scratch certain surfaces (mainly Agnes), and is like if The Downward Spiral YES THE WHOLE ALBUM!!! was a girl. And your honor I love her.

[bethebesttoyou]

Times are Hard for Dreamers - Choi Beomgyu

synopsis: Friends Beomgyu and Y/N try to have a good day at the fair.

pairing: College student! Beomgyu x College student! reader

song: Times are Hard for Dreamers - Amelie

warning/tags: cursing, fluff!!, me trying to be funny and failing, friends to lovers, I wanted to make it jess and nick coded but Beomgyu is just too sweet... reader is an overly optimistic person!!!!

Wc: 3.6k (I swear im not doing this on purpose D:)

A/N: Beomgyu fic... we win. I actually really wanted to write a Beomgyu fic for awhile but I didn't really have an idea, UNTIL NOW!!! I have like half of vampire in the corner worked on, but I started school, so idk IDK I'll have to see where I can go with that story. I also get so many ideas for longer fics, but I can't lock in :( In the meantime, I want to continue writing one shots!! :3

Beomgyu leans his head against the headrest, stretching out his arms and grunting before checking his watch again. He closes his eyes in frustration before looking back at your front door, his sunglasses dimming his overall view. When you told him 12 pm, he should've known better, should’ve read in between the lines, the way you excitedly ranted about the day you had in store for the both of you. He should've known when he surprisingly got you tickets to the very popular fall fair, that you would overwhelm yourself with planning. Now, 30 minutes later, he watches your front door intently, praying it opens. And it works, out you come prettily dressed in a tan long sleeve and plaid long skirt, both accentuated the curvature of your body so nicely, he wishes you could go back in so he can compose himself. But as you smiled widely at his presence, sending him a wave before adjusting your bag over your shoulder, he settled for a nervous cough and looked away, only looking back at you when you were finally sitting in the passenger seat. He scowls at you playfully. 

“Oh. Beomgyu we have to leave by 12 or we're gonna miss the opening…Oh Beom, please sleep early and get here on time, Oh Beom-” He mocked, only letting out a laugh when you punch his shoulder. 

“It's still 12…we’ll make it if you just drive, like now!” You roll your eyes playfully and start messing with his radio and he just scoffs, putting the car on drive. 

Beomgyu honestly couldn't care less about this fall fair, if it were up to him, he would've been home, relaxing after the terror from being buried in papers and exams and research during midterms, but he didnt think twice of buying them. When he saw the posters all over campus he knew you would want to go, he already pictured the way your eyes would brighten from the mere mention of the mazes, the games, the snacks, he knew you would just obsess over the last activity of the day, fireworks. And when he mentioned it to you, he was right. 

“I-I would love to!” You exclaim turning to your friends behind you, some of them snickering knowingly. 

“Hey gyu, where are our tickets?” Yeonjun bumps Kai’s shoulder before feigning ignorance. 

“Shut up.”

So maybe his crush on you wasn’t exactly hidden, he was a man after all, and it was only natural that someone as optimistic and bright as you would catch the attention of a pessimist that lacks that brightness in his life. He loved to act like he didn't care much about anything, but he cared a lot about you. He couldn't fight the urge of showing it, catering to your likings with fake annoyance, but in reality he lived for your excitement, it only fueling him to continue, he was surprised you've been the only one to not catch on, or maybe internally grateful you hadn't, he didn't think he was ready for that yet. 

But he thought of it, especially now as he heard your raving about the itinerary for the day, having done your research on the different activities and food stands being offered at the event, and he was glad to be the first one to ask you, he couldn't imagine you doing this with anyone else, he would rather die. 

“Jesus, does it tell you how I'm gonna die on that paper?” He teases anyways, and you grunt. 

“I want to take full advantage of today, we deserve a day of stress free fun!” 

“I guess I can agree.” 

“Trust me Gyu, we're gonna have so much fun, you're gonna want to come back.” You promised. “This paper is gonna be our lifeline today, just as long as we stick to it, we should be able to do everything! Here’s your copy.” 

He laughs at your ridiculous planning but believes in you anyways. He just wanted to spend time with you, grateful to have you all to himself, so he was more than willing to follow a piece of paper if it meant it was guaranteed. 

The car ride was meant to be a long one, the directions sending you out of the city you both occupied, to the closest open field your campus can find to set up. Yet, the drive didn't feel as long as Beomgyu expected, your voice causing him to lose track of time, paying attention to your silly stories and gossip he hated to admit was pretty interesting. 

“So, they were not dating? Just fucking?” 

“Ningning said that she said they weren't…and now they're just not talking anymore…” 

“That's annoying…” 

“That's what I'm saying!They definitely like each other, they’re just dumb.He’s gotta step up.” You roll your eyes and he can't help but feel the pink heat rise to his face. 

He finally parks, turning off the ignition and turns to you, once again taking in the sight. You were everything, he thought, there's not a single sweet word that doesn't describe you. Watching you as you straighten the paper, he watches your delicate fingers scan the page, before speaking. 

“Okay! Well, we missed the opening ceremony but it's fine, I didn't care much for it anyways…First on the list is for you. Let’s start with…coffee! yay!” You say hoping out of the car, him laughing at your excitement. Giving the worker the tickets, you immediately head towards the coffee stand to the right, ignoring that Beomgyu was in awe of the set up. It was the middle of the day, but the entire fair was lit up like those old carnivals you would see in the movies. Laughter and screams could be heard from every corner, the smell of popcorn and sweets mixing together and clogging his nostrils, he could see why you were excited, this place was like a manifestation of your personality: fun, nostalgic and comforting. 

“Beomgyu! I got your drink!” you yell from afar, and he turns around, walking, stepping towards you before, watching in horror as someone cuts him off, bumping into you and spilling both coffees on your chest. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Beomgyu says turning to the offender, as they apologize profusely. 

“Are you okay?” 

“-you okay?” they both asked frantically, Beomgyu already taking your hand, starting to lead you to the closest stand with napkins. He completely misses the way your face turns pink, before you laugh awkwardly, distracted from his own flustered feeling, he feels like a Victorian man by just the touch of your soft hand, the hotness spreading from your connected hands to all over his body.

“Good thing, it wasn't hot coffee right?” You squeeze his hand before taking a napkin. 

You turn to the apologizing stranger, “it's fine! You're fine! It was an accident!” you say, before turning back again and smiling at Beomgyu, “it was an accident.” Now softer, trying to ease the scowl on his face. 

After politely rejecting the strangers' pleas to help, he finally leads you to another nearby stand, hoping to find a shirt to replace the sticky top you were now stuck with. After looking at the selections, the only one in your size was a muddy green shirt that had a random koala bear with sunglasses on with the words, “Koalified to party” Beomgyu looks at you with sorry eyes, as you gulp at the shirt. 

“So much for cute pictures today…” You say from behind the fitting room curtain.”But it's okay! This is gonna be a fun story to tell the group!,” You laugh lightly, walking out of the makeshift fitting room only to Beomgyu trying to stifle a laugh. You flick his forehead before continuing, 

“No! It looks good! You look good!” He laughs. 

“Well, forget coffee! Back to the paper! Next stop…um…the swings!” 

The high swings were towards the back, and Beomgyu noticed every time you looked down at your watch, you’d start walking faster, the furrow of your eyebrows becoming more evident as the walk continued. Once you got to the front, your smile came back and shined brightly towards the worker before dropping completely when he pointed out the line that stood behind you. 

“A-and um… how long is the wait?” 

“All ride lines right now are going to be about two hours or so.” the worker says, apologetically looking at you both. 

Beomgyu is starting to realize what type of day this was going to be, and he wanted to suggest going home, or finding something else to do, trying to avoid even more disappointment. If he had known it was going to be this packed or this difficult to enjoy the day, he wouldn't have suggested it at all and you would have had to plan an entire day just for it to completely fall apart in front of you. But when you turn to him with determination in your eyes, he remembers you are never one to back down.  

“Okay, new plan! We no longer wait for the rides, let's just play some games! Maybe head to the maze after! That should still give us time to make it back for the fireworks!” you say, your smile was not as big as it was 3 hours ago, but it was still there. Beomgyu wanted to check on you just in case. 

“You okay? We can always just-” 

“No time for that! We have the paper!” You say already walking away. 

—

It had been two hours into playing games, and after you exclaimed how obsessed you were with the giant  light brown teddy bear that hung from the corner of the stand, the bow that laid just below its ear making you squeal, you both took turns playing trying to knock down the obvious glued golden cups. You and Beomgyu both lost about 100 dollars combined. The carny had been a bored looking teenager, would laugh every time he saw you guys walk back to the end of the line, but you both were too frustrated to even care. Beomgyu honestly didnt want the stupid fucking bear, it wasnt worth it, but in his mind, you needed this win (and he wanted this win for you, so bad)and so each time it was his turn, he would throw the ball more aggressively, trying to fight the look of disappointment on your face when the cup would resist the blow. He didn't want to feel bad, but he did, immensely, as he watched you throw the ball and grunt loudly. You start rubbing your temple out of sheer frustration before sighing. 

“One more go…Just one more go, okay?” You say to him, and he watches you line up one last time, the look of determination etched on your face. Only for the small child in front of you to knock the golden cup, the ringing congratulatory bell going off as you watch with a straight face. The cheers were so loud and in Beomgyu’s opinion, obnoxious, that he wanted nothing more than to just comfort you, take you away from the scene and offer you some solace, but the fear of rejection kept him from doing so. 

“Well, it's maze time.” You say as you watch the child and their parents walk off with the giant bear, your eyes reflecting shame, embarrassment and sadness. Beomgyu decided that his heart could bear the negative emotion in your eyes, it wasn't you,he thought.

“Hey what if we just get out of here? Get something to eat, yeah?” 

“N-no we cant! The paper! The maze! fireworks! We can't miss the fireworks! You bought me these tickets, we can let them go to waste!” you panic, but your eyes look defeated. Beomgyu doesn't want to burst your bubble, he really wishes things could have been different, but he can't stand the thought of watching you get disappointed again. With the way things are going, he knew the fireworks were gonna follow the same fate. He knew you to be optimistic, never letting things get you down, but he wasn't so sure as to why you were so determined for this day to go perfectly. You had never been so obsessed with the details before.  

“y/n… it's okay, really! … l-lets just go…” your eyebrows, that were slightly slanted and eyes that were soft, immediately switched to anger, with now furrowed eyebrows and flames in your eyes. 

“Y-you can go then. But I'm going to the maze. Don't follow me. ” You say stomping away, leaving Beomgyu shocked and guilty. He wasn't sure what was going on, what had made you so determined to finish the day, even if it meant you were no longer standing by the end of it. 

He felt horrible. All he wanted was to see your smile again, to see you enjoying the fair like he had hoped you would, yet this mysterious pressure was nearly forcing you into a breakdown. He wanted to fix this, needed to. He was determined now, no longer caring if he looked too doting, even if it made his feelings visible to you, he was going to make it up to you. Starting with that fucking bear. 

He stalks up to the stand, where the same bored looking teenager now stood with an amused look on his face, watching Beomgyu stand mere feet away from him. 

“How much for the bear.” They had replaced it with a new one already. 

“Not for sale, man, you gotta win.” 

Beomgyu stares at him, hoping to read him well. 

“Ill give you 50 bucks for it.” 

“Ha! Make it a hundred and you got a deal.” 

“60.” 

“120, and I'll throw in a ferris wheel ride with my buddy over there.” Beomgyu blushed at the thought. That sparked an idea. 

“During the fireworks?” the boy thought about it for a second. 

“I guess I can make that happen…might cost a bit extra though…” 

“Fuck, whatever. Deal.” 

–

Beomgyu thought about waiting for you outside of the maze entrance, but it had been 30 minutes and you were still not out. He had seen those that enter after you already come out and he began to feel nervous. Worried thoughts of missing the fireworks became worried thoughts of something happening to you in the maze. His worries got worse when your phone was sending him to voicemail. 

So with tired arms and heavy grunts, he walks into the maze, keeping track of his turns, which he learned he didn't have to, you weren't that far from the opening, yet, you were scrunched down, head buried in your hands, crying. 

“Y/N?” He says muffled the giant bear barely fitting through the small isles of corn. 

“Oh thank god!- Wait what the hell?” You said, tear stained cheeks, and now wide confused eyes staring at the bear that covered most of his body.

‘Why are you crying?” He asks, and it almost looks like the bear is talking. 

“I got lost…” You were lost in the presence of the bear, “D-Did you win this?” 

“Um…”

He had questions too, but as he looked up and realized that it was finally dark, he pulled your hand and began to run out of the maze, 

“Questions later! We're gonna be late!” 

“For?” 

“You’ll see!” 

—-

Once you got to the ferris wheel, you watched as Beomgyu walked past the long line into the stand. Beomgyu notices you are about to interrupt, glossy eyes and all, but turns when he hears his name. 

“You Beomgyu?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is the bear your date? If not, it's gonna have to stay down here, it's not gonna fit.” the carny chuckles, Beomgyu glares back. 

“Whatever gets me up there man.” 

“Hey… A-Are we getting on?” 

Beomgyu notices your face that was just laced with pure confusion. He smiles softly before leaving the bear behind, leading you to your cart, sitting next to you and securing your seatbelt. It's only then does he understand the gravity of the situation and he's thinking he might have flown a little too close to the sun. This was, very clearly, a romantic gesture, and Beomgyu had no plan, whatsoever. This was it, he planned getting you up here, watching the fireworks, but then what? What can you do on a ferris wheel in a platonic way? Talking! You could talk! Talk while you wait for the fireworks! 

He tries to think of things to say, but how can he?  when you are so close and he can smell your fruity perfume, mixed with a hint of coffee. Your lips ,that had always attracted his eyes to stare at them while you spoke, now don't have to say anything for him to notice them there, parted and soft before stretching into a shy smile. 

“...How did you do all this?” he shakes his head.

“That doesn't matter, I'm sorry the day has been such a mess and I haven't been much help either…” You scoff. 

“That's definitely not your fault, I'm sorry…the one that wanted to make this all perfect.” 

“Yeah, why is that?” Beomgyu feels self conscious as you stare at him for a minute, before laughing awkwardly. 

“Can I give you something? You promise not to laugh?” He feels the pressure from your words, fear of what may come next. Oh god, he thought, someone told you about his feelings… He nods anyway, accepting fate. You were now at the highest point on the ferris wheel, and Beomgyu begged for the show to start, scared of hearing what you were going to say. 

You reach into your bag, before pulling a thinly worn folded notebook paper before handing it to him. Written on top was his name and a small heart next to it. He shivered at the sight. 

“I-its a note… I wrote it the day of graduation” You laugh, “it's silly and it was never going to see the light of day, but I don't know…I felt ready. Well sorta…” You are looking away now, trying hard not to make it more awkward than you are starting to feel. The fireworks start, popping and lighting up the sky, but Beomgyu can't focus as he's now shakingly opening the note. 

A confession note. 

Beomgyu gasps, reading the contents, before looking at you. You’re looking up in admiration of the colors before you, the shapes that manifest in the night sky, a nervous smile sets on your lips, fingers nervously holding on to the rail of your cart. He knows you feel his gaze on you but refuses to turn to him. 

“Y/N…” 

“It's okay, Beomgyu! Really! I just…I needed to do something about this letter… I was holding on to it for way too long.” You're not really talking about the letter, Beomgyu believes. When he can't find the words yet, you continue. 

“I just.. I hope this doesn't change us, I hope we can still be friends… Please…” Pleading eyes are what finally meet Beomgyu’s shocked ones and he finds you so beautiful in this moment, he can’t bring himself to say everything that he's ever wanted to. That he has waited for some kind of sign for two years, that you had occupied a space in his heart since the first day he's met you, that he did all this just for you, and would never ask for anything in return, that your smile and presence was more than enough. But instead, hoping to convey the mutual feeling or perhaps stronger ones,  Beomgyu grabs your face by each side and brings you closer, and you let out a squeal, the fireworks only getting more aggressive and intense. And it matches the way Beomgyu’s heart is feeling, accelerated, like it's about to explode as he lays his lips on yours, feeling the petal likeness of your lips.

And the butterflies swarm all over his body when you finally kiss back, fluttering your eyes closed, and pressing further in, shivering from your own nerves slowly dissipating. He hopes you can feel everything he’s thinking, everything he wants you to know, but in case you didn't, he pulls back and looks at you, now possessed with the same determination you had all day: 

“I dont want to stay friends. I want to be with you. I want this, all the time. I like you, Y/N. Please, tell me this letter still means something."He pulls a stray hair behind your ear, watching the pinkness in your cheeks get darker. 

“O-Of course it does. It always will.” You whisper with shining eyes. Your hands that had been glued on the railing, now moving to his waist and wrapping them around and hugging him tight. He sighs and smiles widely, hands now holding you close, it was only then had he noticed that the cart was making its way back down. At the entrance, was the giant bear, sitting patiently as you both got off the wheel, trying to pretend neither of your hearts were still pounding from excitement and giddyness. The carny holds a fist bump with a smirk that beomgyu shyly returns before grabbing the bear. 

“W-we missed most of the show, sorry…” He says after a moment of walking in silence. Remembering the taste of you, already growing addicted.  

“No! Don't be… it was perfect, actually the whole day was.” You say, your eyes still beaming with what he can only hope for satisfaction and fondness.

He laughs at that. Before putting an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer. Walking towards the car, you rambled about the maze, how the kid had to have had some steroid in him, he realized just how much the atmosphere has changed. The presence of something filled the air: the makings of new love. 

"You gotta let me borrow that shirt..."

"Shut. Up."

A/N: YAY!! you made it!!! thanks you for reading!! Like always, let me know what you think! :3

[silvercoloredskiess]

Yandere Front Man/In-Ho x Reader (Platonic) - Part 2

Tagged: @lianobody

I did as I would promise and wrote a part 2 :-) hope you guys like it. And I created my custom order of the games since the game chosen is a season 2 game, but also in season 2, lights out didn't happen in that order.

Warning: It's the squid game so mentions of killing. Also one mention of a player smoking. Not much emphasis on the latter. Also mentions of shooting by the triangle guards.

Word count: 1,515 words

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/silvercoloredskiess/772580452633591808/yandere-front-manin-ho-x-reader-platonic?source=share

If this link doesn't work, please say it in the comments and I'll try to fix it.

Have fun ! I hope this isn't boring or isn't as good.

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

After your father left your room, you sighed and collapsed on your bed. You really wished you tried to challenge him on this punishment. Sure, everyone in the games consented, but it didn't stop you from feeling sorry. The lights out game went as usual; and even though you couldn't see the action, you could feel it. And most certainly hear it.

It sounded like chaos that didn't end until everyone was way too tired. The sounds of screaming, cursing and murder. It was horrifying imagining the people that swore they were friends and allies, brutally trying to kill each other a day later. Or was it even a day?

You never saw the outside world through windows, so you don't even know if the sun has gone up. It could still be the middle of the night for all you know. Only the Front Man and the workers had a digital clock. You had no sense of time in this place.

Trying to fall asleep, you treated it as background noise. You had to cover your ears using pillows to be able to rest. It didn't help you cried, a lot. The next morning, you slept in a lot. Your father even opened your door to check on you since he wasn't expecting no reaction from the rebellious you. He smiled at the sight of you peacefully resting. It was exactly what he wanted of you.

You woke up some hours later because you were starving. Turns out you had slept through the brutality of yet another game, and there was way less chatter in the lobby according to what you could hear

Meanwhile, there was a rumor going around between the players. An ally of the player that attempted to escape last night supposedly ended up succeeding, or as so the ally said. They had to have succeeded because they never returned, and they never heard a gunshot. The Front Man, hearing the conversation from his lounge, was chuckling at how gullible they were.

Just as your stomach was about to eat itself, a square guard came in your room, giving you your lunch. Contrary to the meals players were given, yours were very fancy because you knew your father held you in high regard. Before the guard went, you called out to them;

"H-Hey! Am I allowed to ask you guys questions?"

The guard turned towards you and shook their head.

"But please! I need to know if I can negotiate to leave my room. Why was I given such a punishment for doing what's right?" You pleaded. It was a dumb idea to try.

The guard didn't say anything and walked away. You knew the guards were never allowed to converse with players or even with each other unless necessary, but not even to the Front Man's child?

But you refused to give up. You wanted this annual nightmare to stop. You opened your bedroom door (your father didn't install an advanced lock just in case you needed something that badly), ran down the long hallway full of locked doors, and hid somewhere.

Some square guards were actually looking for you since your father checked the cameras and realized you weren't there. You looked around to make sure your spot didn't have cameras, but it was a tiny nook so it shouldn't have any. Hopefully.

You thought you could chill for a little bit until the next game started, where basically most of the guards would be deployed. The square guards passed by your spot and you shook as you hid cautiously, curled up in a ball. Thankfully they didn't see you because they were too busy walking to the admin room after their search.

One particular guard took the responsibility to inform In-Ho of your 'disappearance'. He was absolutely furious. He was worried it was another player that tried to escape and had tried to hurt you, just like yesterday. He groaned,

"I swear whoever tries to hurt my only child will face punishment... so if you happen to find this player, kill them immediately. If all else fails, I'll take this upon myself", he told the guard, who nodded their head before telling this to the other guards in private.

When you heard a mysterious commotion from far away, particularly in the direction of the admin room, you knew you had no luck getting there. Guess you had to try again someday. Little did you know the admin room is always active. But to be fair there was a lot you didn't know about this place.

Meanwhile, a player had managed to hide out in the bathroom stalls during the new game; the Six Legged Pentathlon. She was smoking, and sitting there in silence hoping to not get caught. A couple triangle guards were sent out to look out for who could've been a threat to you. When they searched the bathroom, they slammed open all the stall doors, they found the woman, and it scared the living daylights out of her. She begged for mercy, but ultimately she was shot.

The gunshot was extremely loud and you could hear it all the way from your hiding spot. But you were thinking it took place in the game. You were very wrong. Anyways, you decided to move from your spot so you could try to go back to your room. The game had ended a few minutes ago since you now heard the footsteps of many people going back to the lobby. Significantly less than last time..

You ran as fast as possible through the long winding hallways. You discovered a lot of places you never saw. The place turned out to be super huge. But you didn't know your way around, so you needed to stay focused.

While you ran, you heard the sound of footsteps from the guards. The way back to your room was terrifying. It felt like they were just waiting for you to cross their line of sight so they would catch you. You got lost and made a left, only to discover the Front Man was walking there too...

You were caught and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Dad I swear it's not what it looks like!!" You said, trembling with fear.

Two square guards held either of your wrists so you couldn't run away. Your father walked really close up to you.

"Why did you break the rules again? I just told you to stay quiet in your room for a week. I might need to teach you some discipline if you never learn to respect authority. You've been such a good, good child and here you are, now trying to interfere with everything!"

"But I-"

"No more of this behavior. Maybe I should start taking away the privilege to be able to leave your room. Or less meals so you're not as energetic to be running around the place causing trouble... and while I would hate to do that to someone I put as my number one priority, how else would you learn..?"

"CAN I PLEASE EXPLAIN!?" You shouted, tears rolling down your face.

"There's no explanation needed. You wanted to go to the control room to interfere with the games. So adorable to see the relieved expression on your face when you thought the guards walking by couldn't clearly see you, or when you thought your cute little 'hiding spot' had no cameras? Do you forget how small cameras can be nowadays?" He sighed before continuing,

"Also, you do know just how dangerous it is to be doing silly things like this? Any player that had the mere luck of escaping, could've hurt you again. And you know how I would kill to keep you safe. I know you heard that mysteriously close gunshot while you were hiding. Any player is a threat to you according to me, and that's final."

The guards led you to where your father wanted, which was the VIP room he sat in while he watched the games from a huge screen. You recall only being there once or twice. But why were you there?

"I know you find being in your room boring, so I figured a good punishment would you having to sit right next to your dear daddy while we watch the games, watching every player suffer in their own ways. Alternatively, you can go back to how it is now, how it should be anyways; You stay in your room, I install an upgraded lock on the door, and all the other consequences follow."

It was a hard decision, but you couldn't stand the idea of sitting in front of a large screen, watching terrible things be done. So you told him your decision. And there you were some minutes later, sitting on your bed, lonelier and more miserable than ever.

You know your father did this all because he wanted to protect you, to avoid you ever having to be in contact with someone dangerous. But... weren't dangerous people in every corner of this place? What irony..

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[whatudottu]

Welcome one and all to my version of the party's loopified designs, featuring my many broken bones and blood stains I especially put into Odile who I tackled second unlike the alphabetical order that I have presented here! I'll have in-depth discussions on each designs and matching practice portraits under the cut but before that-

Siffrin 'barely taller than a preteen' no middle name no last name Loop is still barely taller than a preteen but now that preteen can claim fire to their height!

Alphabetical order GO!

Bonnie, who I've been calling Bonfire (which if that ends up being their name I can imagine Bonnie calling them 'Fire' while they call Bonnie 'Face' to match), was the last of my designs because frankly I knew from the start what their design was going to take influence from and also knew I was going to draw fire :P They were based on bonfires (of course) and also specifically the Burning Man effigies just for a humanoid figure, plus being a chef cooker and a campfire and also a very heated expressive person.

Their flames are hot but not actual wood burning so the Favour Tree (and Mirabelle in the height chart) are not at risk of combusting, they're just incredibly bright-

Isabeau my first design, with influences from @basilpaste 's Lock (with a dressform body) and @nullapophenia 's original version of Husk (the faceless identityless sketch), I have combined them both to make a mannequin it/its loopified design that finally gets to be capital T Tall all for the low low price of being Changed against its will and suffering another bout of body dysphoria that it can't fix anymore :) :) :) When I was referencing mannequins I actually noticed how long their legs actually were let alone how they were perma-stuck in that Barbie-like highheel pose and thought why don't I just curse Isa with something he previously wanted :P

Something something Isabeau actively Changed not only his body but his personality to become someone he wouldn't be ashamed of, yada yada Loopsabeau is back to hating itself and has started to become a person it despises to match (also like a mannequin it's head and arms are technically painlessly removeable :P)

Third in order and third in design is Mirabelle, who technically is the only loopified design with technically hair and clothes, but the hair are the tangled roots of the Favour Tree and the clothes are like the carved hardstone statues of religious figures :P Initially my Idea for Mirabelle was to make her kinda like her statue, with the wonky expression of someone who made it without much mastery over details, not to pit anything against Mira, no, no. Thought about maybe abstract statue design but I couldn't find a version I liked but I did always imagine her statue being weathered in some way, there was a reason why I saved her for third I couldn't pick what I wanted. But then I remembered the broken Change God statues, thought about the 'blessing' that ended up being a curse, and then thought about overgrown weathering and gave her the roots.

I actually looked up Black hairstyles and mostly wondered what specific hair texture Mirabelle had (she wears it in a fro of course, but she has flyaways that aren't coils, but she described her own hair as kinky and :P) so that if I were to mimic hair with tree roots I can get an appropriate matching hairstyle (settled on megatwists). Hah, if Mira has 4C hair, considering how long her hair actually looks, if she to wear her hair in twists she might actually have elbow length hair :P

I spent 8 non-consecutive hours on Odile can you tell? Can you see my hands bleeding my wrist breaking my eyes drooping? Yeah so Odile was again, my second design and it took me a week to recover, and she's a combination of gem and mirror suit with all the little fragments floating around her the 'diamonds' that represent all her family members party plus the ones she originally had in sets of 2. I also put geodes where parts of her body have broken off (inspired by how when the King strikes she can't move, plus also being a glass canon) where when I was actually drawing those geodes that they kinda use the Change symbol?

Circle within a circle within a circle, regardless of how wiggly it is, and at the centre is a cluster of crystals. That was an accidental reference to Odile's mixed heritage but hoo boy what a connection! Her missing pieces are a combination of 'being too old for this' fragility and also 'i didn't want to render more mirrors sue me'

Anyway I am going to put my wrist in a cast and imagine loopified party members with their pre-wish counterparts :P

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?