#and if their romance was more.... developed

[professionalasker121]

I wonder if it wasn't so much making the woman a person so much as actually making the romance important to the story.

(Full Disclosure: I have not read Dandadan, and I've read parts of Chainsaw man, but I am a big fan of Spy x Family).

The problem with plenty of Shonen romances is that their mangas manga...just don't have a romance story in it. They have romantic moments, but they're not all that tied to the plot, character development, or themes.

Look at Izuku and Ochako's relationshp in My Hero Academia. Ochako is a well-developed character with her own agency and goals. Ochako's crush on Izuku is an important part of her character and portion of the plot. But it is not important to Izuku's portion of the plot, which is the main plot. In that, Ochako serves his development as a supportive friend. They have romantic moments (especially early on), but they're just not important to his character. You can't have a one-sided romance. So, of course the romance feels ancillary to the story. It literally is.

By contrast, in Spy x Family, aside from Anya, nobody is more important to Loid's character than Yor (and vice versa). Both the main plot, and both leads' character development revolves around their growing relationship. If you cut out the romance in My Hero, you'd lose large swaths of Ochako's and Toga's characters but leave Izuku's mostly intact. If you did that in Spy x Family, you'd be gutting the plot and both main characters.

In short, if you're going to give your leads a romantic interest: Make the romance central to the story for both characters, and make both characters central to each other.

I'm truly glad Shonen is finally solving its terrible portrayal of romantic relationships between their leads! And all it took were two necessary ingredients to make it all work!

1.) A generous serving of actually making the woman a fucking person with an actual personality and their own motivations.

2.) A dash of neurodivergence.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

What To Do About Filler

I am deeply frustrated at the increasing usage of the concept of "filler" in writing, partly because how people are using it is completely separated from what it usually means, and partly because few people explain what they actually mean when a story lacks "filler."

So, in short, when this comes up, what people usually are talking about is:

A lack of subplots. Subplots are essential background to developing your story beyond the main action points. Subplots include romantic storylines, internal journeys (learning to deal with a trauma, for example), plots that are critical for secondary characters, etc.

No room to breathe (aka pacing). Keeping up the tension is a common piece of advice, but if every single scene is filled with tension, you're going to exhaust the reader (and yourself). Quieter moments allow characters to reflect, realize things (like feelings for each other), and give you space to establish worldbuilding and mood.

Rushed or missing character development. Giving your characters space to learn things about themselves, confess or realize feelings, and moments to make decisions and change are essential to a story. Defeating the big bad is important, but usually the inner strength to do so comes from the character changing over the course of the story.

I am losing the battle against using the word filler when you mean a story lacks other things. Other than shaking my fist at the youths, I suggest that if you get feedback about "filler," see if you can get specifics. Is it an issue with pacing? Character developments? Not enough description or worldbuilding? If a romance seemed rushed, at what points does the reader think there should be more interaction? Etc.

A note for fanfic writers: Your goals are often different from someone writing to publish, but hammering down what filler means can still help you as well. Narrowing down the point of your story ("in this drabble, these characters flirt without using words" or "sexy coffeeshop AU") and making sure to ask your beta readers if what you're writing fulfills that goal can help you figure out if your story is making the impact you want.

[callmeagardengnome]

❤︎ office affairs ❤︎ | SONG MINGI

pairings ࿔ mingi x fem! reader

genre ࿔ office au, non-idol au, romance, SLOWW BURNNN

synopsis ࿔ working for a job promotion is the smart thing to do, but working to make song mingi fall in love with you is way more fun.

w.c ࿔ 8.1k

c.w ࿔ suggestive but no smut, mingi likes thighs woops, mutual pining (?) reader watches anime, reader also wears pencil skirts a lot of the time, this is an IT company, light swearing, alcohol, kiss scene

author’s note: this took way too long to finish but im glad its done! also rmbr to like and repost!

not proofread!

other fics

the moment your eyes found song mingi, you knew that he was the one.

okay, ‘the one’ might be extreme, but he definitely caught your attention on your first day.

you applied to ‘ATECH’ after graduating from college, hoping to land a job in one of the top IT companies in the city. you’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time learning how to code and develop software, so imagine the joy you felt when the job offer finally appeared in your inbox.

“over there are the bathrooms,” your boss, hongjoong, said as he pointed to a set of doors at the end of the room. “and this is where you’ll be working,” he patted the desk.

“thank you,” you smiled, letting out a quiet groan as you set down the heavy box in your arms.

you looked around. the office was pretty normal, each section had desks right next to each other with the company-issued computer sitting on each one.

you turned back to your desk, your eyes landing on who your deskmate would be - and you swear that your breath was taken away within a second.

he was the definition of your type: neat, built, handsome.

not to mention the way his glasses sat on his face or the button-up shirt he wore that had his sleeves rolled up slightly, exposing his defined forearms. he looked good. impossibly good.

“mingi will be showing you the ropes of the company,” hongjoong began, giving mingi a sharp glare when he was about to protest. “don’t hesitate to ask him for help.”

you nodded. “got it,” you replied, settling into the swivel chair at your desk.

as hongjoong walked away, you heard mingi mumbling something under his breath, but it was too soft for you to catch. he quickly returned back to his work, typing on his keyboard at speeds you didn’t know were possible.

“hey,“ you spoke up, sitting up straighter. “i was wondering if you could help me with-“

“-ask him,” mingi muttered, barely looking away from his computer screen as he pointed lazily to a guy at the next table.

you blinked. “but hongjoong told me to ask you?”

mingi sighed, finally stopping his typing to face you. “i don’t know why he did that. i’m not anyone special, i’ve just been working here for a while.”

mingi then pushed himself back slightly so that you could see who he was pointing to. “wooyoung’s the manager, you should be asking him on how things work.”

“oh.. okay,” you replied slowly. “mingi-“

“-mr song,” he corrected, cutting your sentence short again.

you raised an eyebrow, looking down at the polished nameplate on his desk that read out, ‘SONG MINGI’.

“right.. mr song,” you nodded slowly. “i guess i’ll just do that.”

you ignored the weird exchange and began to unpack your things. after sorting out everything, you decided to find this ‘wooyoung’ guy mingi was talking about earlier - it was actually easier than you thought since he was talking pretty loudly with the person next to him.

you took a deep breath as you walked over to his section, feeling your palms sweat as you wiped them on your pencil skirt. “hey uh..” you trailed off as wooyoung’s eyes widened.

“you’re the new hire?” wooyoung blurted out in surprise as he looked you up and down.

he then blinked and shook his head. “wait shit- that sounded bad.”

wooyoung turned his chair around to face you, waving his hands defensively. “sorry, we don’t normally get girls here- you know, it’s IT. not that it’s never happened but they’re usually.. a lot older.”

“cool..” you chuckled awkwardly, offering a polite smile as you were unsure of how to respond. “well, mr song said that i should ask you for help.”

wooyoung’s eyes widened even more than before. “mr song?” he said a little too loudly, making a few people glance in your direction - though wooyoung didn’t seem care. “did hongjoong tell you to call him that?”

you shook your head. “no? he corrected me when i called him by his name.”

“oh…

my…

god.”

wooyoung busted out laughing. “i’ve never heard anyone call him mr song- even jongho doesn’t! and he just started working here last month!”

“wait really? then why-?”

“-it’s definitely a kink thing,” wooyoung muttered to the guy next to him, who you now noticed was watching the whole interaction.

“what was that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“nothing, nothing,” wooyoung waved it off, still chuckling. “anyway, this is yeosang. if you ever need anything just come to either of us. we’ll help you out.”

yeosang nodded politely, giving you a small smile. “nice to meet you. welcome to the company.”

“thanks..” you responded, bowing slightly. “nice to meet you too.”

soon enough, you found yourself sitting between them - with wooyoung desperately trying to teach you the company software (though he was messing up terribly) while yeosang corrected him at every step, trying to fix his mistakes. the two eventually got into a mini argument as you sat there awkwardly, watching two grown men argue on whether to press the ‘s’ or ‘z’ key.

you eventually spaced out, looking around the office. your eyes landed on song mingi once more, watching how focused he was on whatever he was doing.

the more you looked at him, the more boxes he ticked in your books. but this rigid character of his was going to be an issue if you wanted anything to happen. you cracked your fingers, and only one thing was on your mind as you turned away from mingi.

you were going to break through that ‘serious’ personality of his.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

you’ve learnt two things about mingi during your first month of working at ATECH.

number one: he seemed pretty reserved - at least, when you’re around.

it was a little odd. whenever you were nearby, mingi was quiet, silent even. but the moment you were out of sight or busy, laughter would erupt from his table.

you had a pretty important deadline coming up and you needed to work on it with your full attention. you put on your bluetooth headphones and got straight to work. the music did help you focus, but unfortunately, your headphones died with a loud beep.

annoyed, you took them off, moving to grab a wire to charge them when suddenly - you heard something. talking. coming from none other than your deskmate, mingi.

“no- you don’t understand, the fight scenes are incredible!” mingi exclaimed, almost jumping off of his chair. “the animation alone is on another level.”

“overrated,” jongho countered, smirking as he leaned back. “mingi, i don’t know why you keep recommending anime to me. i only watched one episode because you forced me to.”

mingi rolled his eyes. “you don’t get it- episode four is gonna change your life.”

it took everything in you to not laugh out loud. you’ve never seen mingi so passionate about something - and it was about anime of all things.

not that there was anything wrong with it - hell, you watched it. it’s just that seeing mingi so invested and defensive was.. kind of cute. maybe you should give the show a go.

but in the middle of mingi’s rambling, jongho yawned and suddenly glanced in your direction, giving you a friendly wave as his grin widened. “hey ‘___’.”

mingi froze mid-sentence, his hands moving to his keyboard almost instantly, the rant coming to an awkward halt. he quickly straightened his back and cleared his throat, acting as if nothing had happened.

jongho raised an eyebrow, clearly holding in a laugh. “you done with that deadline?” he asked.

you blinked. “uh- yeah almost,” you replied with a nervous chuckle.

you turned back to your work quickly, trying to refocus on your attention to your work but it was pretty difficult to ignore the scene playing out beside you.

from the corner of your eye, you could see jongho trying, and failing, to hold in his laughter, his shoulder shaking as he repeatedly hit mingi who was frantically typing on his keyboard like he was trying to forget what happened.

jongho wiped the imaginary tears from his face. “i’ve never seen you like this before.”

number two: he was definitely single.

thanks to your friendship with wooyoung and yeosang, you were spending almost all of your breaks together - which meant that you were always finding out new things about the office.

as the three of you settled down in a nearby food court, wooyoung started yet another rant about the office, but the topic eventually shifted to your coworkers and somehow mingi.

“he’s probably never felt the touch of a woman,” wooyoung snorted, leaning back into the chair.

yeosang immediately smacked wooyoung on the arm. “don’t say that, he’s our friend..”

“..but yeah, that’s probably true,” yeosang shrugged, slurping the noodles in his bowl.

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “you guys make it sound like he’s so strange.”

“he is. he’s so weird around you,” wooyoung said, waving his fry around. “i swear- it’s like he’s never met a girl that can code or something.”

you sighed, stirring your iced coffee. “maybe he’s shy.”

“shy?!” the both of them exclaimed in unison, their wide eyes blinking at you.

“he is not shy,” wooyoung emphasised, to which yeosang nodded violently to his statement.

wooyoung took a sip of his soda before clearing his throat. “you should’ve seen him before you got here. he’d laugh at every dumbass joke we made. and now? he’s basically a robot.”

yeosang made a sound of agreement, wiping his mouth before adding, “i mean- he’s probably not used to women being in the office.”

“yeah, especially if they're young and actually, you know-” wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning another smack from yeosang.

you rolled your eyes. “shut up.”

wooyoung shrugged with a grin, taking a bite out of his fry. “i’m just saying it how it is.”

you chugged your iced coffee. “is there anyway i can- i don’t know, get to know him better?” you asked as you looked at your coworkers. “how do i make him…”

you trailed off, resisting the urge to ask ‘how do i make him like me’, knowing that wooyoung would probably make fun of you.

you sighed, settling for a, “how do i make him not a dickhead?”

“i mean…” wooyoung bit his cheek, quickly glancing at yeosang before turning back to you. “you could try making out-?”

“wooyoung!” yeosang exclaimed. “we need to give her actual advice. she’s gonna be working here for a while.”

“fine, fine,” wooyoung rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you. “honestly? you want to get closer to him?”

you nodded, maybe a little too eagerly, making wooyoung smirk as he continued, “just talk about anime. trust me, once he gets started, he won’t shut up.”

you and yeosang chuckled. “noted,” you smiled.

“i’m being serious,” wooyoung leaned in even closer, his eyes bigger than before. “i would love to see the look on his face when he finds out that girls who code and watch anime exist.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

even though the whole office knew how awkward you and mingi were around each other, it wasn’t enough to stop hongjoong from pairing you two up for whatever work he had.

the two of you were tasked with test-running the company’s latest software before it was handed off to the client. you spent the next hour sifting through its features and finally, you found a bug.

“mr song,” you called, barely looking away from your screen. “can you come here? i found something weird.”

mingi rolled his chair over to your desk, glancing at the screen as you hovered your mouse over a link.

“so when i click here,” you explained. “it brings me to an error page. i tried all the reboot methods and it still won’t work.”

mingi leaned in a little closer to see the issue. “okay, that might be because-“ he began, but suddenly started to trail off.

you raised an eyebrow, noticing how he wasn’t really looking at the screen anymore. you followed his eyes and realised that his gaze had dropped, landing on your legs.

more specifically, on the way your pencil skirt had ridden up a little when you crossed your legs.

you swear that you could see the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks as he stared - and it took a moment for him to catch himself.

“you good?” you tilted your head.

his head snapped back up, eyes wide as he cleared his throat. “shit- sorry,” he stammered, sitting up straighter in his chair as he quickly focused on the screen. “i was just.. thinking.”

you nodded, biting back a smile. “right.. thinking hard about that error, huh?”

“y-yeah,” he stuttered, his words rushed now. “it’s probably an issue with the script- i’ll need to check this out with yunho.”

“sure, you do that,” you replied with a grin, watching as he walked away hurriedly, running his fingers through his hair.

but of course this wouldn’t be the last time you caught mingi like that.

during meetings when the two of you were forced to sit next to one another, you began to notice the way his eyes would drop down whenever you crossed your legs.

or sometimes, you would adjust your skirt and you would feel his attention drifting towards you, only for him to blink repeatedly and turn back to the discussion. it wasn’t obvious, but it happened often enough for you to catch on.

you didn’t want to be delusional. what were the chances that the hot guy in your office you liked was actually interested in you?

you decided to wait for the perfect opportunity to test the theory - and fortunately for you, you didn’t have to wait long.

you were both working late and mingi sat at his desk next to you, trying to explain his thoughts on the layout of the software.

mid-conversation, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms behind your head with a soft groan. but while doing so, your pencil skirt rode up - a lot.

you pretended like nothing happened as you absentmindedly nodded to whatever he was saying. you could see mingi’s eyes shift downward, his sentence cutting short.

“what were you saying?” you asked, stretching a little more as if the movement was completely natural. you watched as mingi blink back to reality, processing what you said. “you were telling me about the layout.”

mingi cleared his throat, his eyes darting up to your face, then back to his screen when he realised he trailed off once again. “uh- yeah, the layout. it’s good.. it’s just that um- we need to fix the code if we want it to be usable.”

you could see his leg bouncing under the table as he turned back to his computer, his typing slowing down.

“are you okay, mr song?” you asked innocently, drawing out his name just a bit, watching his reaction worsen - his blush deepening and his hands coming to a stop, hovering above his keyboard.

“i’mfine,” mingi said quickly, pushing his glasses back up. he started to type on his keyboard once more, completely avoiding eye contact with you.

you smiled to yourself, giving him a hum of acknowledgment as you turned back to your screen.

so he likes thighs, huh?

oh this is getting fun.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

mingi might actually be going insane.

he never realised how bad he was at talking to women - at least, not until you joined the company.

working at ATECH for six years taught him to keep his distance with new hires. watching friends come and go because of the draining job made it seem pointless to make friends with people who might disappear at any moment.

you were no exception. to mingi, you were just another person behind a computer. so even though you were seated right next to him, he barely made an attempt to acknowledge you. what was the point when you’d probably be gone soon? at least, that’s what he told himself.

mingi didn’t want to get attached.

he had to draw the line somewhere. he’d already betrayed his own words of ‘not getting close to anyone new’ with jongho, who only joined a few months ago yet managed to find himself a soft spot in mingi’s heart.

that was already enough for mingi to double down on his ‘professional’ act to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

when you started, he would give dry answers to whatever questions you had, hoping that you would keep your distance from him. but for some reason, the more he avoided you, the more he found himself paying attention to you.

not to mention how you were insanely gorgeous - which messed with him. a lot.

when you first joined, mingi was confused of why you picked IT to be your job of choice instead of modeling, acting or anything of that sort. but he quickly understood why you entered the industry when he saw the way you coded. it was way beyond any expectations he had.

so not only were you impossibly beautiful, you knew how to code well.

whenever you had to work together or you had a question to ask him, mingi would catch himself straightening his back, doing anything to hide his image of being the nerdy, anime obsessed guy in the office.

mingi knew it was ridiculous. he barely knew you and yet he felt this insane urge to impress you. he didn’t even know why he told you to call him ‘mr song’.

he had never done that before. it just slipped out, like he was trying to seem professional. though, it just made things more awkward.

but the worst part of it all would be those pencil skirts you always wore to work.

you seemed to have a wide range of them, he noticed. some days they would be neutral colours, some days they would be bright and patterned.

he never thought that something as simple as a pencil skirt could derail him of all the thoughts and human decency in his mind. yet there he was, looking at the way your things pressed against each other as you shifted in your chair or how the fabric lifted up ever so slightly-

-god, he felt like a pervert.

he didn’t know exactly when he started to pay attention to your attire or how your skirt hugged you in a way that left him stunned. was it when you had to work together on that one test-run? or during all those boring meetings the company had?

well, not that it mattered. all mingi knew was that he wanted- no, needed to stop being distracted by you.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“shit, i’m late for work,” you muttered through your teeth as you turned off your alarm. you quickly put on your clothes, grabbing your bag as you slammed the door open and headed out the house.

you unfortunately reached the office half an hour late. you were nearly out of breath as you rushed to your desk. as you slid into your seat, you noticed mingi’s gaze on you, looking.. relieved?

you logged in, pretending not to notice his eyes on you. you began to get started on your work, hoping to make up for lost time.

but just as you began to focus, wooyoung strolled over to you, leaning against your desk with a smirk.

“you’re late,” wooyoung tilted his head.

you looked at him with a deadpanned expression. “you’ve been late three times this week.”

wooyoung grinned, grabbing a random chair nearby and plopped himself between you and mingi. he began to talk about some ‘crazy’ thing he was going to do on the weekend, acting as a podcast as you coded.

just then, wooyoung’s attention shifted to your phone, which suddenly lit up with a notification, revealing your lock screen - a character from the anime that mingi had been talking about.

“wait..” wooyoung leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “is that anime?”

you glanced down at your phone, nodding. “yeah, i’m kind of hooked right now.”

wooyoung raised an eyebrow, turning to mingi then back at you. “don’t tell me he converted you into one of his anime minions..” he pointed to your deskmate.

mingi sputtered, completely thrown off by the conversation that he was suddenly involved in. “what? no, i didn’t- she just-“ he stumbled over his words, his face heating up.

you smacked wooyoung’s arm. “i did hear him talk about the show, but i got into anime itself on my own.”

jongho, who happened to pass by your desks as you said that, stopped. “you guys are talking about anime?” jongho looked at mingi with a wide grin on his face. “didn’t know anime recs were the new pick-up lines these days.”

wooyoung smirked as he leaned closer to mingi. “so she’s a weeb and can code. mr song, does that do anything for you?” he teased.

mingi’s face was now a shade of bright red and he kept his eyes locked onto the computer screen, avoiding any eye contact. “i didn’t even say anything to her about it..” he mumbled.

after wooyoung and jongho continued to tease him, they eventually walked away to do their own work. you glanced over at mingi, tilting your head when you realised that he had already been looking at you.

he turned away quickly, clearly flustered as he muttered, “don’t.. don’t listen to them.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“have you done the surveys hongjoong sent in the group chat?” you spoke up, your voice echoing in the quiet office.

mingi blinked. the two of you had to work overtime again to complete a piece of software that a client wanted. he didn’t even realise how late it was until he looked at the time.

“he sent surveys?” mingi asked, raising an eyebrow.

you nodded, holding out your phone to him. “its all about ‘staff satisfaction’ and other bullshit like that. he’s forcing everyone to get it done quick so you should get started.” you turned back to your computer, putting your phone on the desk.

mingi watched as you returned back to work, but there was one thing that he couldn’t get his eyes off of - your lock screen.

he couldn’t stop thinking about how you were paying attention to that conversation. he had to admit that the fact that you actually took his recommendation did make his heart flutter slightly.

mingi’s fingers rested on the keyboard. ‘don’t say anything,’ he told himself. but then again… you liked anime?

his mouth moved before he could even think. “did you finish episode four yet?”

you looked at him, not knowing what he was referring to until you saw that he was staring at your phone screen. “mhm, i actually finished episode six yesterday. i can’t stop watching it.”

“wait, six?” he turned his chair to face you completely. “so you saw the fight scene right? and that whole backstory part?”

you nodded excitedly, matching his enthusiasm. “yes! and the twist with that guy’s brother? insane,” you replied.

“right? i told jongho it was genius,” mingi continued, words spilling out of him way faster that he could control them. “and there’s this one part- wait i can’t spoil it.. uh, but just know that it’s a whole new level.”

only now and then mingi realised how ‘out of character’ he got with you, especially when he saw the way you were watching him. your eyes sparkling with interest as you leaned in, actually listening to whatever he was saying.

and for a second, he couldn’t look away.

his heart stuttered and suddenly, he was back in his own head. what was he doing? he forced himself to turn back to his computer, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“well- uh.. anyway. we should probably get back to work..” he said, leaving you confused of what made him stop.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“alright, i think that’s everything,” hongjoong said, shutting his laptop. “you guys can head home.”

the sudden meeting your boss called dragged on a lot longer than anyone thought. so the moment it ended, everyone around you got up immediately, hurriedly packing their things.

suddenly, hongjoong realised something. “oh, i need someone to print out these reports by tomorrow morning.”

you barely had time to react before his eyes landed on you, then mingi who was almost out of the door.

“mingi, you’re familiar with the printer setup right?” hongjoong asked with a smirk. he then turned to you. “this is a good chance to teach our new hire how we handle our documents.”

both you and mingi let out identical, disappointed sighs - your frustrations perfectly in sync.

everyone, including you, knew that the printing room was a nightmare - old, dusty, falling apart and tucked away in a corner of the office building that was farthest away from the entrance.

“of course,” mingi muttered, his voice flat. “the printing room.”

hongjoong gave a shrug. “it’s not that bad,” he said, obviously lying.

you swore quietly but gave a polite nod to your boss. “got it. anything else?”

“nope, just the reports. shouldn’t take too long,” hongjoong replied as he grabbed his things, heading to the door. “thanks guys!”

with a collective sigh, you took your notepad and followed mingi - who was already sluggishly moving his feet to the printing room.

he pushed the door open, the musty smell of old paper and ink greeting the both of you instantly. “why hasn’t anyone fixed this place yet?” he asked, mostly to himself as he used his hand to cover his nose.

you stepped inside, wrinkling your nose. “because no one comes here unless they need to?”

“right,” mingi muttered. he flipped the light switch, the fluorescent bulbs taking a moment to stop flickering.

the room was cramped and small. dust floated lazily in the air and the ancient printer hummed ominously at the end of the room.

“let’s get this over with,” you said, putting your stuff on an unstable metal shelf.

mingi took out his phone, looking for the files that hongjoong sent him. he glanced at the printer, then at you as he sighed. “i can load the paper. you can.. figure out how to make the rest work.”

“gee thanks,” you said sarcastically as you rolled up your sleeves.

mingi eventually taught you how to use the printer, which took a lot more steps than its modern-day versions. the sounds of each page churning out filled the silence in the small room.

when it was done, you reached for the stack of printed sheets as mingi went straight for the door.

but just then, there was a metallic clatter. you turn around to see the doorknob lying and rolling on the ground.

“you’re kidding me,” mingi muttered. he crouched down to pick it up, but the doorknob was useless. the door was jammed shut. completely.

the room was barely big enough to fit the both of you and now you were stuck here? it couldn’t get worse than this, could it?

mingi sent a text to yunho to come to the printing room to let the both of you out. even though he already heading home, he told you both to be patient while he made his way back.

soon enough, the both of you settled on the floor to wait. mingi sat with his knees close to his chest. when you sat across from him, your knee bumped against his, making him freeze slightly.

you crossed your legs, adjusting your skirt as you do, but you catch mingi glancing before quickly looking away, pink dusting his cheeks.

he cleared his throat, reaching for a nearby clipboard on the shelf and offering it to you. “uh, you can use this if you uh- if you need to cover up or anything..”

you raised an eyebrow, a smile forming on your face. “thank you,” you said, accepting it.

the room falls silent once more and the buzzing of the lights above began to become louder.

mingi shifted a little, clearly hyper-aware of how close you were. you could hear his breathing getting faster, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

after a while, he fumbled with his phone, typing another message to yunho. you watched as his fingers tapped quickly on the screen, slipping a couple of times.

you bit the inside of your cheek. “do i make you uncomfortable?” you asked once he slid his phone into his pocket.

mingi’s head snapped up at your question, his eyes widening as they met yours. “what?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

you leaned back against the wall. “do i make you uncomfortable?” you repeated.

“nono, of course not,” he said hurriedly, his eyes locked on the printer.

“are you sure?” you raised an eyebrow.

“i-“ mingi rubbed the back of his neck. he shifted in his spot once more, though his knee bumped into yours again - making him jump slightly. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“come on,” you grinned. “you barely talk to me unless you have to, and when you do, you can’t even look at me- like right now!” you giggled as you watched his eyes dart around the room.

you fiddled with the printed papers. “i’ve seen how you act around your friends. you’re fun, you’re loud. so why are you so quiet now?”

mingi opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. his hands fidgeted with his shoelaces, his jaw tightening. finally, he let out a soft sigh and glanced at you - for just a second.

“i don’t know,” he admitted.

“you don’t know?”

“i mean-“ mingi stuttered, his eyes on the door. his lips were pressed into a thin line and his shoulders slumped. “i guess- i just don’t know how to act around you…?” he said, already regretting his words.

mingi wiped the sweat off of his forehead, adding onto what he said. “you’re just different from the people i’m used to.”

you nodded, giving him a smirk. “ohh, it’s because i’m a girl right?”

“nonono it’s just-“ he said quickly, his ears turning red. “you’re uh..” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “you’re uh- focused? yeah.. and you’re good at what you do. that’s all..”

you let out a soft laugh, making him look at you nervously. “is this your way of saying you respect me or something?”

his cheeks flushed. “you can say that..”

“hmm.. okay okay,” you hummed, trying to suppress a grin. “so if that’s all..”

you leaned in closer, “..you wouldn’t mind if we went out for lunch together right?”

mingi blinked. “like with wooyoung and yeosang?”

you shook your head, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “just us two.”

“well..” mingi looked at the ground, trying to find the words in his brain. “aren’t most places far away?”

“there’s a manga cafe nearby. it’s pretty cute and has a decent menu.”

his eyes widened at your suggestion. “a manga cafe..?” he repeated.

you shrugged. “i thought you’d like it.”

“i do,” mingi muttered, clearly unsure of how to respond. “you don’t think it’s weird? not a lot of people like manga.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “i don’t find it weird.. do you not want to go?”

mingi immediately straightened his back, his blush deepening as he stumbled over his words. “what? no- i do-“

you laughed, cutting him off. “relax.. we’re friends right?”

you could see a smile forming on his face as he nodded. “yeah.. we’re friends.”

suddenly, you heard a chuckle from the other side of the door as it creaked open. yunho stood there with a grin, leaning against the doorframe.

“sorry it took me a while,” he said, giving mingi a knowing look. “getting cozy?”

mingi’s flustered expression turned into a glare as he stood up, brushing the dust off of his pants. “just let us out.”

yunho moved aside, watching as his friend walked hurriedly towards his desk. “hope you two had fun,” he winked.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

you leaned back into your chair, taking a bite out of your sandwich. “you know, i just finished the season this morning.”

mingi’s head shot up, his eyes wide with excitement. “really?” he asked, mid-chug of his drink.

“yeah, i was up all night watching it. i even got a little emotional at the end,” you replied with a nod, causing mingi to flash you a grin - one that you’ve never seen before.

the cafe around you had walls lined with manga shelves. the faint music of anime soundtracks playing in the background. the decor was adorable and you had to resist the urge to take a photo of every corner of the cafe.

the two of you continued talking and for once, it didn’t feel awkward. mingi seemed more relaxed, even joking around with you at times - but of course, he still had a habit of looking away whenever you made eye contact with him.

as the clock ticked closer to the end of your break, you stood up and pointed to the manga shelves. “i think i’m gonna grab something before we head back,” you said, wandering over, mingi soon following behind you.

“i don’t know what to pick,” you admitted, tracing your fingers along the spines of the books. “you got any ideas?”

his face lit up as he reached for a manga volume. “this one is really good. the world-building and plot is great. and the characters? the way they develop over time is just-”

mingi went into a passionate ramble, flipping through the pages as he spoke. you leaned against the shelf, listening to him as you bit back a smile.

suddenly, he stopped, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “sorry, i got carried away.”

you shook your head. “no you didn’t. i’ll take it,” you said, taking the book from his hands.

mingi blinked, stunned. “really?”

“yeah,” you replied with a grin. “you obviously like it, so it must be good.”

he stood there, a little speechless as you walked towards the register.

as you passed the manga to the cashier and reached for your wallet, mingi suddenly pointed to a random corner of the cafe. “woah what’s over there?”

you turned your head, confused. “what are you-”

before you could finish, you heard the tap of a card on the card-reader. turning back, you saw mingi sliding his card back into his pocket, acting like nothing happened.

you stared at him in disbelief. “..did you just pay for that?”

“would you be angry if i did..?” he said slowly, taking the bag where your manga was from the cashier.

you sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “no, but i can pay for my own things.”

mingi grinned. “maybe next time.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

it had been about two months since you and mingi started to eat lunch together. at least once a week, the two of you would grab a meal and talk about work or a new anime that either you or mingi were hyper-fixated on.

to be completely honest, mingi was pleasantly surprised at how your conversations evolved. what used to be a little awkward and dry now felt natural and easy.

mingi cracked his fingers. his screen had been glaring at him all morning, the same error popping up no matter how many times he rewrote the code. he leaned back into his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration.

“hey,” your voice pulled his attention away from the screen. “what do you want for lunch today?”

mingi blinked. “shit- i’m sorry,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i can’t go today. too much work to do.”

you didn’t seem bothered by his response. instead, you tilted your head. “okay, then what are you craving?”

“uh... something light, i guess?” he replied hesitantly, unsure of why you were asking.

you just nodded, grabbing your phone and standing up. “be right back,” you said, leaving before he could question you further.

when you returned about 20 minutes later, mingi stared at you in disbelief. you set down a steaming cup of noodles, his favourite chips and a coffee.

“w-wait,” he stammered, immediately reaching for his wallet. “how much was it? let me-”

“-it’s fine,” you interrupted, brushing his offer off. “just eat before it gets cold,” you slid back into your seat.

mingi stared at the meal infront of him, his heart racing in a way that he couldn’t explain. it wasn’t just the food (though that definitely played a part), but it was the fact that you knew and remembered his favourites. you even went out of your way to do this without making it a big deal.

‘that’s just what friends do,’ he convinced himself as he took a bite out of his food. but when he glanced over to you, the butterflies in his stomach told him something that he wasn’t ready to admit.

not yet, anyway.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

you were busy testing out a software when jongho appeared, dragging a chair behind him. he sat it in your section, right between you and mingi.

“guess what,” jongho began as he faced mingi. “i finally got that place i was looking at.”

mingi turned away from his monitor, eyebrows raising slightly. “oh? that’s cool. congrats man.”

“thanks. i’m thinking of having a little housewarming thing this weekend,” jonogho continued. “nothing big, don’t worry.”

mingi nodded, leaning back into his chair. “sounds good. let me know what time.”

it wasn’t until then when mingi noticed that you were listening in into their conversation, your fingers paused over your keyboard. his eyes darted to yours for a moment before he spoke. “do you want to come?”

you blinked, your eyes shifting to jongho. “i mean.. do you want me there?”

jongho shrugged. “yeah, you’re cool. bring wooyoung and yeosang too.”

mingi didn’t say anything, but the way jongho gave him a knowing look didn’t escape your notice. you bit back a grin, nodding slowly. “alright, i’ll be there.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“damn you look good,” wooyoung said, looking you up and down.

you raised an eyebrow. “what are you talking about? i’ve worn this outfit to work before.”

“yeah but the work air does you dirty,” he said, earning him a smack from yeosang.

“focus,” yeosang said, pointing to jongho’s door. “who’s knocking?”

“not me,” wooyoung shook his head quickly. “i already carried the chips here. i’ve done my part.”

you scoffed. “you brought two bags and i’m pretty sure you ate one of them.”

“they’re big bags, okay?” wooyoung defended.

yeosang sighed. “fine, i’ll-“

before he could knock, a deep sigh was heard on the other side of the door. the three of you exchanged a look with each other before the door swung open.

wooyoung and yeosang, who were leaning against the doorframe, stumbled forward and landed infront of jongho’s feet.

jongho stepped back, opening the door wider. “welcome.”

you blinked, giving him a smile. “hey, jongho.” carefully, you tiptoed over the two fallen bodies on the ground as you entered the apartment.

the apartment had a warm and cozy feel. there was a decent amount of fake plants and the furniture looked new but comfortable. the dining table was lined with snacks and the kitchen counter was filled with a surprising amount of alcohol.

you walked over to yunho and mingi who were already standing around the kitchen. you waved to yunho before turning to mingi and giving him a quick hug.

mingi froze for a bit, though he quickly recovered, his response stiff. “uh- hey.”

jongho clapped his hands to gather everyone’s attention. “alright, don’t get too comfortable. let me show you around.”

he led the group on a small tour around his apartment, showing off his bedroom, bathroom, living room and office space - he even had a guest bedroom.

after the tour, you found yourself back in the living room, chatting with yunho and mingi.

“so how’s the project going?” yunho asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“not bad,” you replied. “it’s a lot of coding but i’m enjoying it for the most part.”

mingi nodded. “yeah, and you’re good at it,” he muttered quietly, mostly to himself.

you glanced at him, giving him a smile. “thanks!”

the tips of his ears turned pink and he quickly turned to yunho, who was trying to hide a smile behind his glass.

after a while, you wandered over to the snack table where yeosang and wooyoung were hanging out.

“chips are food,” wooyoung said angrily.

yeosang sighed, turning to you. “this is his third bowl.”

“it’s a party,” wooyoung shrugged. “i’m living my best life.”

before anyone could say anything, jongho’s voice was heard from across the room. “wooyoung!”

wooyoung froze, a chip halfway to his mouth. “what?” he shouted back.

jongho stood by the door, his arms crossed. “tell me why there’s a group of at least 15 people outside my house saying that there’s a party here?”

wooyoung chuckled nervously, clearing his throat. “um.. about that..”

jongho’s eyes narrowed. “don’t tell me you-“

the doorbell rang and before you knew it, a large group of people poured in, loud music taking over the entire space.

wooyoung scratched the back of his neck. “i may have uh- spread the word a little.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

the house grew loud, music bouncing off of the walls as laughter filled every corner. you squeezed through the crowd, heading over to the kitchen for another glass of soju. but when you reached, your eyes landed on mingi who was downing many shots of alcohol.

“heyheyhey, stop,” you said, stepping forward and gently taking the glass from his hand.

mingi blinked at you, confused, his cheeks pink. you looked at him with concern. “what’s going on? why are you drinking so much?”

he mumbled something incoherent, rubbing his forehead. without hesitation, you hooked your arm around his and tugged him toward the hallway. “you’re sitting this one out,” you said firmly, guiding him into the guest bedroom which thankfully, was unoccupied.

closing the door behind you, you made him sit on the edge of the bed. mingi groaned and slumped down, half of his body dangling off the bed while his upper body rested against mattress.

you sat on the bed next to him. “are you okay? what’s wrong?” you asked softly, rubbing slow circles on his back.

“...i don’t like people,” he mumbled, his face half-buried in the sheets.

a small smile tugged at your lips. “it’s okay. i get it.”

��i like you, though,” his said, his voice muffled but clear enough to make your eyes widen in shock.

“wait, what?” you blurted out, staring at him disbelief.

mingi got up abruptly, sitting on the bed properly like nothing happened. “why did wooyoung bring so many people? this isn’t a party party,” he said.

“i.. i don’t know,” you stammered. “can we go back to what you said before-”

“i didn’t finish the code i was supposed to give hongjoong,” he interrupted, looking at you with glassy eyes. “am i getting fired?”

you shook your head. “no, he gave you until next month to complete it. can we-”

“-i haven’t eaten pasta in so long,” his voice cracked, on the verge of tears.

“i’ll get you pasta tomorrow,” you said quickly, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

mingi’s face lit up. “really?”

“yes,” you nodded.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the muffled noise of the party bleeding through the walls. soon enough, you finally spoke up. “hey.”

mingi turned to you, his eyes a little clearer now.

“when you said you liked me,” you began cautiously. “what did you mean?”

“that i like you,” mingi said plainly like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well, yes, but,” you cleared your throat. “as a friend or-”

“i like your eyes,” he cut in, his gaze locked onto yours. “and your nose.”

you blinked, stunned.

“your lips are pretty,” he added as he leaned in slightly. “and so are your outfits.”

“i-”

“i like your voice,” he continued. “and the cafes you bring me to.”

your heart raced as you stared at him. “...is this the alcohol talking?” you asked weakly.

mingi tilted his head, reaching up to touch his mouth like he was checking for something. “i’m pretty sure i’m the one talking,” he said, completely serious.

a wide smile broke across your face. “you’re cute.”

“me?” he looked behind him, seeing if there was someone else in the room.

“yes, you,” you laughed softly.

mingi’s face flushed a deeper red - whether it was from the alcohol or your words, you weren’t sure.

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you once more and you could tell that mingi was beginning to sober up. he shifted slightly, his movements becoming nervous.

“i’m sorry,” he began, but you quickly cut him off.

“don’t apologise,” you said.

“but i made you uncomfortable- oh my god i made you uncomfo-”

“i like you,” you said, pulling him out of his spiral.

mingi froze, his eyes wide. “are you serious?”

you nodded.

“b-but you’re so..” he trailed off, his eyes searching yours. “..pretty.”

“thank you,” you said, your heart fluttering. “though i think you’re really downplaying yourself.”

“why would you like someone like me?” mingi asked, his voice a whisper.

you shrugged. “for all the same reasons you like me.”

“because i watch anime?” he asked, confused.

“that’s a bonus,” you grinned.

the next thing you knew, your hands brushed against his, lingering for a moment as his eyes shifted to your lips. it was such a simple action and yet it sent your heart in circles. slowly, he leaned in closer, his warm breath against your skin.

“are you really okay with this?” he asked, worried that you were playing a prank on him.

you looked into his eyes, your voice soft. “i’ve been waiting for this.”

then mingi’s lips were on yours.

it was soft at first. but the second your hand found his jaw, tilting his head slightly - something in him changed. his hand was on your thigh, his fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt like he needed to hold on or risk floating away.

your hand moved to his chest and you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm. mingi’s other hand found your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

“mr song,” you mumbled against his mouth, the name drawing a low groan from him.

“god- you’re so perfect,” he muttered, the grip on your thigh tightening, his thumb tracing the seam of your skirt, sending shivers up your spine.

you lost track of how long you stayed like that. the music from outside faded into the background and the room slowly disappeared from your mind.

and then the door slammed open.

you and mingi jumped apart, faces flushed and breaths uneven. just then, wooyoung stumbled in, his arm draped lazily around a girl.

“oh my god,” wooyoung’s eyes widened, darting between the two of you with unhinged glee. without waiting a second, he whipped out his phone and snapped a picture before slamming the door shut - his loud voice echoing the hall. “i knew it! i knew it! i knew it!”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands as you got up. “this bastard-”

“-hey,” mingi caught your wrist, his fingers gentle but firm as he tugged you back toward him. his face was still flushed and his lips were slightly swollen, but his voice was soft. “don’t focus on him. focus on me.”

your heart skipped multiple beats. you nodded, letting him guide you back into his arms.

this time, the kiss was much slower - no rushing, no interruptions, just the two of you. his hand returned to your thighs, this time squeezing it lightly, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

when you broke apart, his eyes studied your face, his thumb gently tracing your lips. you brushed away the stray hairs that stuck to his forehead, adjusting his glasses which were lopsided.

“was i good?” mingi asked nervously.

“of course,” you giggled, your cheeks warm. “way more than good.”

he let out a sigh of relief. “i’m glad..” he said softly. your words made him smile, the stress in his shoulders easing.

“if wooyoung posts that picture..” mingi said, leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw. “..i’m deleting his league account.”

any and all feedback appreciated <3 remember to like and repost!

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

chapter one: “love is short but forgetting is so long” -> chapter two

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

book tittle: "right where you left me"

author: y/n y/ln.

sinopsis: Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? While time moved on for everyone else, she stayed trapped in a single moment, lost in a fantasy of what could have been. She’s still 23, clinging to the life she thought she’d have, the one where everything was “just right.”

This is the story of a woman living in delusion, unable to let go of the exact moment her world fell apart. Breakups happen every day, but for her, it was more than that. Sitting cross-legged at a restaurant table, under the dim light, across from him, everything felt perfect—until he said, “I met someone else.” The shatter of glass on the white tablecloth marked the death of their love, but not the end of her story.

While everyone else moved on, she stayed behind. In that restaurant, in that moment, with those words echoing in her mind, her heart suspended in a “forever” that never came.

A poignant romance about heartbreak, grief, and the lives we leave behind when we can’t move forward. If you ever wonder if you got it all wrong, remember:

“I’m right where you left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.”

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

word count: +5k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ Ten years ago 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You were wearing your favorite flower dress Charles gifted you for your year anniversary last year. He always said you looked the prettiest on it. So you decided to wear it for this date. Charles told you he needed to tell you something and you prepared mentally for an engagement ring or something. Or like he would propose to you to live together. You couldn't think of anything else. You were happy.

He held your hand while the waiter guided you both to your reserved table next to the window. It was your favorite. It wasn't the first time you came, it was your go to restaurant. You even had your first date here. 

The restaurant was inspired to be like a flower shop mixed with a coffee shop. It developed to be a fancy restaurant in monte carlo. Your apartment was two blocks away so you were a regular client alongside charles. 

You were so proud of him and every single accomplishment in his last year. He was finally becoming an F1 driver. Your heart is exploding with happiness for him. You admired how determined he always was about his dreams. 

You sat on the table in front of each other. The waiter made sure you were comfy and left the menu for you to check. You grabbed it starting to read it, not noticing charles behaviour wasn't normal. His body language was unusual. He seemed uncomfortable, stressed. He cleared his throat making you look at him and have your attention. You left the menu over the table to give him your 100% of attention.it was summer so you had your hair up in a pin and charles was wearing a plain white t shirt that always looked so precious on him. 

Your eyes had question marks all over them expecting to hear what he wanted to say. There was a soft smile on yours but Charles wasn't smiling, on the contrary, he was looking down at the white tablecloth. You frowned when he took so much time to say anything. He noticed so he looked at you.

“I met someone else” he said and you felt like cold ice water was sprayed straight to you. His hands sweaty showed anxiety creeping and your face went white. You just couldn't move for a few seconds.

“W-what?” That was the only thing you could say at the moment. It was like your brain went dead in the instant it heard him saying those words. I met someone else. Four words. It took only four words to break your whole reality in a million pieces so tiny you thought it was impossible you could live properly anymore. Your mouth went dry. His eyes were cloaked on you expecting something else out of you. But how could he? He saw how you broke down there and then in front of his eyes, how confusion and heartache took over you with just four words. 

Those damn four words you won't ever forget. They will haunt you for the rest of your life. You just knew. 

There were a few minutes of silence. Really painful silence. You didn't know what to do. You didn't even know if you wanted to know more about it or just run away from here. You looked down at your dress. Tears creeping to stream down your face.charles out of desperation and discomfort talked again.

“I met someone else. I don't love you anymore, and before doing something stupid, I just wanted to tell you first” his words coming out of his mouth at the same time the waiter was laying your white wine glasses on the table. When he bheard what Charles said, he tripped and smashed the glass on the floor next to your table. You exalted. Charles got really nervous about it for some reason. You looked at him. The mess helped you to snap out of your bubble you were drowning alive.

“What happens to everything we build together, then?” he didn't have an answer for your question. Your tears started streaming down your face alongside your not waterproof mascara. The waiter apologised when he ended up cleaning, uncomfortable hearing two strangers break up in front of him. Charles licked his lips nervously and shook his head lost in what to answer. 

“Guess, it doesn't matter now” his words cut through your skin like daggers. 

You were waiting for him to propose something beautiful together. You believed you were the love of his life. He told you that everyday. Then one day to another, he found someone better. 

“Is it because I'm not pretty enough for your new status life?” you needed to find a reason even if it was the stupidest one. You just couldn't live without one for this terrible outcome of your life. It was the end. 

It was the fucking end.

He denied with his head not looking at you. He couldn't. And he also couldn't believe he fell in love with someone else while you were there the whole time. He knew this was the right thing to do for both of you. But he didn't even understand what happened. Why did he stop loving you? He had no clue. The only thing he knew is that he loved alexandra, not you. Alexandra made him feel something he had never felt for you as much as it hurt him to admit it. Because he cared about it, he cared a lot.  Even though it seemed like he didn't because he didn't love you like that anymore. 

“I’m sorry, y/n” that was all he had left to say. He didn't want to make you confused. He didn't want to lie to you. You didn't deserve that. Honesty was the least he could offer you after all of these years together. 

You couldn't understand properly what he was saying at this point. You didn't understand why he would invite you for a date when he wanted to break up. Why he didn't say anything yesterday or the day before, or the other. Just, why? What did you do wrong? Wasn't your love enough? You gave him your all. Are you a problem? Probably. So beautiful to think someone was leaning on their knees to ask you something beautiful then hear “you would’ve been such a lovely bride. What a shame she’s fucked in the head”. He found someone better than you. More beautiful. Even more intelligent and interesting for sure. 

You gasped at his words. Your chest aches and your hands are shaky. He felt terrible seeing you like that but he had to be strong and do the right thing. 

“It’s better i go, goodbye y/n” he didn't know what to say nor he wanted to stay any longer. It was all too much for him. 

You watched him leave the restaurant. He was leaving with everything you once were and now you're nothing at all. You watched everyone looking at you, there, left alone and a mess. Unloved and unimportant. You felt they stared at you forever, because it felt like it. 

What were just a few minutes for the rest of humanity, it felt like centuries for you. You were stuck there on a loop hearing his words and watching him leave, again and again, and again for eternity. 

You froze there, lost and empty.

Everyone moved on but you didn't. 

How could you?

⋆˚࿔ Ten years later 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You were at your office in your beach house in monte carlo. You were writing your second book. And yeah, so much happened since you last seen charles.

Of course, the aftermath of it all was terrible on your side. You fell into a depression you didn't know it could be real to experience. The emptiness you felt was immense. Also, your self esteem was destroyed and that was the hardest part to build back up again. You went to therapy two times a week. There were so many things you didn't understand. It was really hard for you to cope with the pain by yourself. Your best friend, agostina, moved in with you. She travelled from New York and left her life behind so she could be there for you. She was an Italian teacher so she could get a job pretty fast and that comforted you. You felt guilty and ashamed of your situation. You just felt like a fucking problem to everyone.  

You had started journaling by the time your friend pointed out something that would change your life forever. 

Monaco’s weather was the prettiest. Autumn it’s really beautiful up here. You were seated on your lounge chair by the pool. Your friend sat next to you leaving two cups of tea on the tiny table between you two. The morning was your favorite time of the day, because you had the habit of writing down everything you felt about anything and everything. Your friend knew it so she just accompanied you through it. She knew it was part of the process and she just wanted to be there for you, always. As she always did since you were kids back in london. 

The words stormed out of you straight to the paper like lighting. You were writing fast every single word you heard. And after a few moments when you finally stopped writing, you would read your words out loud to process them. 

“Okay, hear me out. Are you ready” you asked your friend so she could join you in the process and debate about your thoughts and feelings. That always helped you out so much. She nodded, taking a sip from his tea cup.

“Alright” you adjusted yourself comfier on the chair moving to face her and grabbed your journal better. “Maybe we got lost in translation or maybe I asked for too much. Or maybe this thing was a masterpiece till you tore it all up. Running scared, I was there. I remember it all too well. And you call me up just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest. And now I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here. Time won't fly. It's like im paralyzed by it. I’d like to be my old self, but I'm still trying to find it after `plaid shirt days and nights where you made me your own. Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. Because there we are again when I loved you so, back before we lost the one real thing you’ve ever known. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well” your voice was soft and low. When you finished your friend stayed silent analyzing your words.

“Have you ever considered becoming a writer? Because that, what you wrote, was beautiful y/N” she told you. Her words sinked in you. Maybe you should. You write a lot, so you can try and if you fail you stick to your translator job as you do now. Something fliked inside you. What could go wrong?

And to be fair, the rest is history. You started your journey as a writer and it was not easy  but all of the heartache you carried helped to write the story of your life. Not like, actually, but it did indeed change your life forever. 

Your first book was called “all too well” and under any expectation, it became a best seller worldwide. You were a best seller author now and a pretty famous one. Your novel broke selling records. It made you tour the world, getting to know so many people and signing so many copies of it. And then, you started being so happy. Your suffering became the art so many people appreciated. Unlike Charles, you were important to them, and they cared about your words, your feelings, and your vision. You now have helped someone with your book. As it helped you get through the life you thought you would have with him.

He got married, you saw him on the news one morning while baking cinnamon rolls for your nephews that came to visit. He was a 3 time world champion in formula one and one of the most adored drivers. An icon in fashion and now a businessman. To be fair, it was all you would have dreamed for him. So at some point you were happy for him. At least he achieved everything he dreamed of. And he had a beautiful wife, she was an artist. Sometimes you pass through her gallery to see what new piece she created. She didn't know you, of course. No one knew about you except for Charles' family. His brothers knew. Hisparents knew you.but you were a buried secret to that family. You heard from a friend of a friend it was a pretty big shock when charles told them he was already someone else the next they he dumped you. I mean, you were shocked as well. You thought it wasn't possible for someone to move on that quick. But you couldn't judge him. You were so young. He didn't know better. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you showed up to a race one day. Would he pretend he doesn't know who you are? Would he pretend you never existed? One part of you, hoped he would fall in love with you again. Just Like the first time. And that he regretted leaving you behind. But reality was way  more complicated. Though, you were offered by Mercedes and McLaren to join a few races since you became a recognized figure to the world. You also wondered if Charles knew about it. If he saw you in the news as you did. If he read your book. If he felt the way you felt. If he believed you described him right or wrong. If he missed you sometimes. If he dreamed of you. If he was waiting to find you again and do it all over again. But just the right way this time. Forever.

⋆˚࿔ present day 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

yourusername made a post

Liked by agostinabff, arthurleclerc, alexandramsaintlux and others

yourusername: happy 5 year anniversary of your fav book!! It’s “all too well” birthday (and season!) and to celebrate I am so thrilled and happy to announce all too well it’s actually a MOVIE ON THE MAKING!!! kept this secret for way too long, but now you know and I can’t believe it’s actually reality! Special thanks to my bestie who from day one told me to become a writer and look where we are now. Thank you all so much for reading 💌 don’t forget to bake cinnamon rolls and wear your red scarfs and lipstick! 🍂🧣🤎

tagged: universalpictures, alltoowellthenovel, alltoowellthemovie

View more comments

user345: OMG FINALLY FINALLY 😭

user89: I don’t know how to feel about I just hope it’s good please

agostinabff: always with you beautiful and talented soul. We are so proud of you, me and Benjamin, Renato and Dante love you 🤎 ready with our red scarfs come pick us up!

↳ yourusername: I love you my family 🥹 omw 🤎

user234: I really want to know who broke her heart this deep to write a masterpiece like all too well is

↳ user234: GIRL exactly like I ache for her

↳ user79: I would be dead if I had to live something like that

user123: just between us, did the love affair maim you too? 😭😭😭😭

↳ user21: you kept me like a secret but i kept you like an oath 😭

universalpictures: we remember it all too well 🤎❤️

↳ user34: thank you for this it’s amazingggg

user411: can’t wait

arthurleclerc: congrats y/n! waiting for it such a great book!

↳ user673: what are you doing here darling????

↳ user1: didn’t know racing drivers read romantic books

↳ user76: now you became more perfect than perfect 😍

↳ user7923: suss

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“La Dernière Fleur” looked so much different from where you and Charles broke up.  It was now a cafeteria. And a really cute one. You loved coming here to write your following book. Up to now, you were gonna tell the story you had with Charles, everything. You needed to finally let go of him. Let go of the past. And finally, move on. 

You sat at your regular table for the last three months. Your computer and notebook on the table. You were surrounded by papers with so many notes on them and coffee cups. Your hair up in a pin and your reading glasses on. Your red hair looked shiny thanks to the sun reflecting on it coming though the window. Everybody knew you there and felt honoured that you chose that place to write your next best seller. They always gifted you their exquisite lemon cinnamon roll. It was your favorite. They made you feel really special and you were really grateful about it. 

Your next novel will be called “right where you left me” and for you it was a great idea to go back to the place where it all started.

The first day you came you almost threw up out of anxiety. It was hard to remember it all. But the second day around you could actually think of the storyline and write down some notes. And that’s how it all started three months ago.

In other news, your book was so successful, it was going to become a movie in two years. How crazy is that? You accomplished so much in all these years. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming.

It was autumn, your favorite season of the year. Wearing sweaters and scarfs and red lipstick. Everything was perfect. It made life feel so much more romantic. You loved taking your nephews to the beach and running in circles, then making a war of the leaves at the park. Agostina had 3 beautiful boys with her husband Andrew. She never doubted you’d be the best aunt in the world for her children so she moved her whole family to Monaco and life was beautiful. 

Yes, it's surprising you never saw Charles again but you lived on the opposite corner of monaco. And you both travelled so much during the year. And also, you didn't like going out so much so no, you didn't go to parties where you could find him. 

Now 10 years later, you’re 32 and realized you missed your whole life waiting for him. So this book was a goodbye to him. And a hello to your new life. You wanted to find someone, trust in them, and have a family. That was always your plan. But it got twisted along the way. But it is what it is, life’s sometimes a bitch and destiny likes to play its part in a cruel way. but maybe it was for the better. Maybe someone amazing was about to come your way. 

You took a sip from the coffee cup, malena, the waitress left for you a few moments away. You couldn't actually swallow the drink, because through the door you saw a person coming in who you would have never expected to see again unless it was on tv. 

You almost choked when a 35 year old charles, your charles (well, not anymore for sure); got into the coffee shop with a few friends laughing out loud. Hearing his laughter sent shivers down your spine. 

You felt frozen in that moment, the same way you felt the day he left you behind, alone.

You swallowed the drink in your mouth the best way you could. And left the cup on the table carefully. You looked down at your notes realizing you have been writing his name on the edge of the page. Like doodling. You felt stupid and just broke the paper gently so you wouldn't disturb anyone or catch someone’s attention you for sure didn't want right now. Your heart was racing and your hands were sweating. You started to feel hot due to anxiety of the not expected encounter with him here. And you guessed you felt like this, also because you knew he was single again and your delusion could make you believe that maybe you have another chance with him. You really didn't want to feed it. You need to move on as soon as possible. You could keep going in circles in this rabbit hole you're trapped in for so many years now.  

When you looked back up again you felt you almost faint.  There he was, charles fucking leclerc smiling at you shily while his friends were talking. You recognized a few of them. One was Carlos for sure. They all looked so different. Charles looked different but as pretty as he’s always been. His smile made you panic to say the least. You couldn't smile at him back. All he received was your eyes looking away to a moment after start grabbing your things to get the fuck out that coffee cursed shop. And that’s what you did.  Once you collected all of your things and left money to pay for everything, you sprinted out of that shop to your car. You never left a place so quickly. Anybody watching would think you were escaping from something or someone. and in fact, you were. you were scapingfrom the guy who broke you in so many ways.

Charles came back from a paddle match with his friends. They decided to have some food in the nearest place from the court there was. That was the place where he ruined his life. Or that was the way he liked to call it. Because he dumped the best girl he ever met. But he didn't know better back then. He was a dickhead for sure. And because he knew she deserves someone that knew her value not like him, he really tried to make it work with Alex all of those years. But he couldn't anymore because it showed. It was obvious even if he pretended that he really loved her the way he loved his past girlfriend. He felt stupid above anything to be honest.

The guys chose the place and he had to agreed. He didn't  want to tell them the story though Carlos knew about it and he always said it wasn't cursed and that what happened in the past should stay in the past. And he knew he was right but he couldn't quite actually move on completely from it. Because he missed you. He slept with a lot of women, tried to date a few after his divorce. He tried to find you in every body he could touch. But none of them felt like your skin. Even if they had the same hair, or eyes, none of them had your smile. The one he loved to see every morning he woke up.

They got into the cafe. It looked pretty different from what he remembered. And he remembered it all too well. He won't ever forget how everybody turned to look at him walking away leaving that poor girl crying, alone and with her heart broken. He was so selfish. Maybe too manly for his liking. He was an asshole to say the least. And he knew it. He won't ever deny it. but He likes to think he learnt from it. 

His breathing stopped when while taking a seat and listening to Carlos talk about how next year he was gonna work in the Ferrari team on strategy, he saw you. The girl he had nightmares with and his most lovely dreams. All he could do was smile. You looked so different yet so beautiful. He realized he had never seen you this beautiful from what he can remember. You dont look like in the pictures of your times together he keeps on a google photos cloud. But you didn't smile back at him. That made him feel an ache in his heart for some reason. Not that he would see you ever again he guessed. He observed every single moment you did until he couldn't see you anymore. He was left feeling confused but tried to play it cool so the guys wouldn't catch him. He felt weird for the rest of the day. He couldn't stop seeing your face looking him straight in the eyes. what was your life now? were you married? were you single? he knew you were a writer but even if he thought he wouldnt see you again, he wanted to know. he wanted to know you. Were you as miserable as him?

When you got into your car you started breathing heavily hearing his loud laugh in your head repeating like a broken record. You felt scared. Why now? Why now that you really need to move on? Why is it gotta be now that he shows up in your life again?

You just drove home trying to make yourself believe it was a dream. He wasn't real. He didn't walk into the same coffee shop he broke up with you. He didn't smile at you. You didn't stare at him for a few microseconds. That moment didn't exist. 

You were hallucinating, you guessed. 

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Chapter two: here.

tag list: @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136

author's note: alrightyyyyy, i thought this would be just one part but then i had so many ideas that it will turn into a series! so feedback is very welcome!!

i just really hope you like it as much as i like this idea!

i'm already working in part two so stay tuned i will update you in these next few days <3

thank you all so much for reading and supporting my work, mwak mwak, you are amazing!

Don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

[goldenhallas]

1: Where in Thedas is your Rook from?

Her clan primarily roamed the forests of Ferelden

2: What is your character's alignment?

Chaotic Good, sometimes leaning a bit too much into the chaotic side

3: Race and subclass?

Dalish Elf, Veil Ranger

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

In the Veil Jumper camp, hanging out with Amelia and the other woman who's always with her. I like to think those three are good friends who love to gossip with each other.

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

Purple. She's a mischievous one.

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

Bellara. They're kindred spirits. They're so alike in so many ways - they're both very curious and excitable, they both have ADHD and trouble sitting still, and they both write to focus their minds. They also both have a little brother that they lost and dearly miss.

7: Romantically close with?

Davrin <3<3<3 she likes him from the moment she sets eyes on him, flirts with him a lot, and falls for him hard and fast and with all her heart. They have a lot in common when it comes to their adventurous spirits and the way Dalish clan life was never enough for them. And their senses of humour compliment each other, they have the best banter and love to tease each other.

8: Who are they suspicious of?

Lucanis, initially. He is an assassin, after all. Their friendship is the slowest to develop, especially once she chooses Minrathous over Treviso. They do eventually come to trust each other and become friends though. Ise has a fondness for Spite too. She thinks of him like a cute but naughty dog who likes to nip.

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

Kinda sorta not exactly? Haha. She adores the Veil Jumpers and they adore her, but they're like a dysfunctional family. She's a chaos gremlin always getting into (and often outright causing) trouble, so Strife is perpetually cross with her, but part of that is because he's scared he'll lose her to one of her shenanigans someday. Their relationship is like… misbehaving kid and exasperated dad

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

She plays the elven lute decently well – a guy she dated for a while taught her how. She also loves to sing but is terrible at it.

11: Weapon of choice?

Bow and arrows

12: What is their orientation?

Straight. Loves men A LOT. Dates a lot because she's a hopeless romantic and wants to find the one - and she does, in Davrin :')

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

She likes being in the thick of battle. It gives her a rush. She enjoys killing monsters and demons, but with people it's more complicated.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

She knits! It's a focusing, calming thing for her. She knits a sweater for every single party member with the letter of their first name on them - including Assan and Manfred of course! And Lucanis’ says ‘L & S’.

She also likes to write fiction, mostly adventure and romance stories.

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

She ADORES Antoine and Evka. They're instant besties. She also loves Strife despite their difficulties. Irelin and Amelia are dear friends. She doesn't like the First Warden much. Hates the Mayor of D'Metas crossing and leaves him to die (regrets it later because of what he turns into though)

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

Halla. She knits a lot of halla plushies in all different colours. Once she meets Assan she falls in love with him instantly and starts knitting griffon plushies too.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

She loves it. It's the only life for her. She gets restless if she's not on the move, seeing and doing new things.

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

Probably wandering the forest, stewing about Strife sending her away, wondering if it's still too soon to go back yet lol. The Veil Jumpers are family, she misses them dearly when she's away.

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

When Davrin goes on his calling, and Assan goes with him, it'll shatter her heart. Likely, she won't live long after that and will quite literally die of a broken heart.

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

Well... Solas’ arrogance pisses her off and she likes to poke and prod him, but she can't help seeing flashes of good in him. She senses his pain, sees the abused spirit of Wisdom peeking through and she wants to help him. But she'll still fight that motherfucker to the death if she must, her friends and loved ones come first always. In the end, she ends up saving him and reuniting him with Ghilana Lavellan, because its the most compassionate option, and she can see how good Ghilana is for him, how he melts for her, she can feel how much they love each other. And she's a sucker for romance. She definitely writes fanfic with Bell about the Halla and the Dread Wolf after.

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

Lightning Quiver

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

Common and Dalish

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

She climbs into the tree tops. She finds being above her problems helps her solve them.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Yes, she believes in the afterlife, as the Dalish do

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

Veil Archer. She was always a talented archer even before joining the Veil Jumpers, so it was just a matter of them teaching her their techniques to enhance what she already knew

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

Red fox. That cheeky, somewhat manic look in their eyes is very Ise, as is their resourcefulness and cunning, and the bright red fur/hair of course.

But also magpies! She's very curious, obsessed with collecting shiny trinkets and baubles, and is fiercely protective of her “nest”.

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

Similar to how it is now, but with less darkspawn and elven gods lol. She went on adventures, veil jumping and exploring ancient ruins and collecting artifacts and shiny things, and learning about ancient elvhen culture.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

She's the leader. Varric told her to look out for the team, and that's exactly what she'll do. She never wanted that kind of responsibility, but since it has fallen to her, she'll step up and do her best. She never does anything half assed.

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

The Wardens. She likes being part of something bigger than her, where she can adventure and fight monsters.

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

Appearance wise, her bright red curls. Personality wise, her fiery, compassionate heart and undying optimism – the way she never lets the cruelty of the world make her bitter or cruel and always has a crazy plan to get out of any situation. Her lust for life. The way she's so full of love and wears her heart on her sleeve.

Rook Questionnaire

inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

2: What is your character's alignment?

3: Race and subclass?

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

8: Who are they suspicious of?

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

[ladykatibeth]

I feel like you can’t fully understand or analyze Stolas as a character unless you take into account the fact he spent his formative years with literally no social interaction aside from his father (who he barely saw) and servants, and then spent his adult life only really interacting with his emotionally abusive wife, and his daughter who was dependent on him.

If you do any analysis without that context you run the risk of misidentifying cause and result. The root cause of Stolas’s isolation isn’t necessarily poor social skills, the root cause of his poor social skills is being chronically isolated (and as an adult it’s become a kind of feedback loop, aided by his abusive wife’s deliberate isolating).

Just like you can’t separate Blitz’s issues from him losing his entire family due to an accidental fire he caused, you can’t separate Stolas’s issues from his intense life long isolation. They both don’t respond to life in healthy ways, because they developed their sense of selves and views of reality in extremely unusual circumstances!

If you don’t keep this in mind you get takes like “Stolas’s main issue is that he wants romcom romance.” When actually the main issue is that Stolas prior to Blitz had no actual relationship experience at all and only had tv shows and books to reference what it should look like.

That isn’t to say he doesn’t have character flaws he needs to work on, he does. It does mean that him dealing with it, will take a little bit more than just restructuring his view of himself. Some of the results of Blitz’s and Stolas’s past and upbringing will likely require life long management. They’ll occur less frequently, but they might never fully go away.

[writingwithfolklore]

Getting Characters from A to B

Oftentimes a plot requires the characters to get from point A to B. They need to cross the wilderness to get to the next town, or climb to the top of the mountain, or take a boat to the other continent. But long paragraphs of just walking or moving is obviously not that interesting to read, so here are some elements to add to your travelling sections that accomplish the A to B and more.

1. It’s about the characters

If you’ve ever travelled with someone, you know that everything about your dynamic is amplified after spending like 72 straight hours with them. Use this with your characters—every little hidden grudge or flame or annoyance comes out when things get boring or stressful. This is a great time to really delve into character conflicts or even romance subplots, or any other way you’d like to develop the group dynamic. Also, there’s no better place to get the truth out of someone than being trapped in a car or on the road with them for days on end!

On another note, the slower parts of travel also allow for more quiet moments where your character can process what's happened so far. Especially in fast paced stories with lots of conflict, you may opt for a uneventful section of travel where they have time to grieve or plan or otherwise unpack things.

2. Switch up group roles

Travelling tends to carve out the same roles. Usually there is the leader who is driving the group forward and making decisions, the navigator who knows which way to go, the snack/food provider—who may be rationing or even hunting depending on the survival situation--and the one who has a hidden motive that is making them be difficult or drag their heels and provide conflict. These roles are a great way to force a change in dynamic between characters, and can inspire conflict between them.

3. Increase the stakes

A trip isn’t really a trip until something goes wrong. Whether the navigator was reading the map wrong, a bag of rations falls over the cliff side, someone gets injured, or there seems to be some creature stalking them, an increase of stakes raises the tension and creates opportunities for the group to work together or fall apart. For more tips on how to increase stakes, check out my post here:

4. Don’t be afraid to skip past the boring stuff

Once you’ve done what you wanted to do with the trip—broken a friendship, or a leg,, or both—don’t be afraid to skip in time for when they reach their destination. In fact, you’ll likely skip time for several parts of the trip in between interesting scenes between characters or moments where they’re facing against some conflict. We as the readers will assume that they continued on with their travels and just that nothing of note had happened in between.

I hope that helps!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I just think the show would have been better if they skipped the romance entirely. Why making the two main characters have romance? Show that a boy and a girl who's great friends don't need to end up together. If people still shipped them, it wouldn't be as big of a deal. Shipping is for fun after all.

And imagine them knowing eachother's identities from the start. No more will they won't they. Plus I could see Marinette helping Adrien with kagami. Like making the right outfit or even give advice on how to act. And ofcourse teasing him. Same with Adrien helping Marinette with Luka. But being more gentle and saying to just go for it. Go with the feeling. And still teasing.

(plus if the creators could, change the love interests. Yes I ship lukadrien and marigami)

I'm just saying. Then being great friends would be a lot better than what we actually got.

I personally love the concept of the love square and I'm a sucker for a cute romance, so I want it to be in the show. That being said, I still think you have a point. A romance plot is not a great fit for a formula show because good healthy romance* is all about letting the relationship develop and grow while formula shows are all about nothing ever changing.

That's a fundamental mismatch and there's really no way to work past it unless you do something like the Kim Possible route where the characters are just friends with no romantic undertones until things suddenly shift during a tie-in movie. Subtle romantic tension is also a thing, but a poor fit for Miraculous given its intended age group and the fact that subtle growing tension is usually used in formula shows that have somewhat formulaic plots, but allow for more serialized character development. For an example of that, think of basically any mainstream mystery series where every episode solves a crime while also developing the characters.

It's become pretty clear to me that the Kim Possible path is probably the only way that the love square could have worked in canon. Let them be close friends with a meaningful bond until it's time to let things shift and make dating the new status quo. Of course, that's much less dramatic than canon, but of course it is! Formula shows tend to be characterized by minimal drama because every episode stands alone, making overarching plots nearly impossible and you need solid overarching plots for drama to work.

*While it's not my preference, there's nothing wrong with enjoying unhealthy romance in fiction. However, I will die on the hill that unhealthy romance has no place in shows aimed at young children and that's what Miraculous is, so even thought my general stance is ship and let ship, that doesn't really apply here.

[bigcatenthusiast]

Ok, I haven't watched this interview or anything, so I don't know about what this person said; but I've always headcanoned Viktor as aroace because he never shows any sort of interest in such matters. Not because he's "not emotional" or disabled.

He has genuine passions and interests, is brilliant, was distraught by the accidental death of his colleague (Sky Young) and even admired her dreams. He shows great concern for people around him, people who are like him. His bond with Jayce over their mutual interests to help people and their earnest affection for each other in spite of their differences in social status was one of the core relationship dynamics in the show. Their arc together was blotchy in season 2 (I don't have a favorable opinion on season 2), but overall was a strong display of shared passion, forgiveness and reconciliation.

I think him being aroace makes his character stronger, if anything - to have an aroace character go through such complex, emotional developments and attachments with another character without romance being shoved down my throat is more of a win to me personally.

as an aroace person Christian Linke saying Viktor is asexual was literally heartbreaking. the way he went about it reinforced so many negative stereotypes about both aspec folks and disabled folks. he also only did it because he didn't like jayvik and wanted a way to end the ship (which he did by implying that ace and aro identities are the same and that neither group can have a relationship). he managed to be aphobic, homophobic, and ableist all at once. and it sucks. so bad. having part of my identity used to target other queer and disabled folks makes my chest feel like it's going to cave in.

[thedissonantverses]

“This game has too many lore inconsistencies and plot holes.”

Nah see sometimes world states change and that’s a good thing for world-building and not actually an inconsistency or a plot hole you just missed a bunch of stuff. You might be more comfortable with Origins. A lot of people still think it’s the best one for some reason.

“There’s not enough religion.”

Good. We had three games of this. We’re in an entirely new part of the world. Go play Inquisition. You, get this, lead an Inquisition. Never in my life have I thought “You know what this situation needs? More Catholicism!”

“The romances are boring/bad.”

No. The game just doesn’t treat them like the most important part of the story cause it’s not. Go play a different developer’s games for that. There’s a full scope of humanity to explore beyond romance.

“The dialogue is bad.”

Tourist. I was there for “Hawke stepped in the poopy.” I have a tattoo of “swooping is bad” covering most of my back. Well, shit if you wanna miserably side by side the bad dialogue from each game be my guest. There’s a hell of a lot of great dialogue in Veilguard too.

“The elves aren’t acting elfy enough.”

…Kay no you’re done with video games. I know the made up language is neat but you need to stop. The lore and the writers don’t treat races like monolithic cultures so why do you?

Lo siento, I meant “fuck off shem.” Grrrr I’m an elf. This is what elves do.

“Rook is a bad p-”

Oh for fuck’s sake just go play Inquisition again.

[stelly38]

Stage whispers: *He liked the mustache!*

(Interview from Us Weekly, by Yana Grebenyuk)

Rivals fans aren’t the only ones who developed an appreciation for Declan’s mustache — so did Aidan Turner.

“It’s so funny. I don’t think I’ve told anyone this yet. But usually whether it’s a costume or facial hair or an accent, I’m always very eager to let them go when the job is done,” Turner, 41, who plays the beloved character on the hit Hulu series, exclusively told Us Weekly. “It feels almost inappropriate to be walking around wearing a costume piece from the character. You want to get out of the city and out of the thing and just leave it all behind. But I found this one quite tricky.”

Turner recalled finding ways not to say goodbye to Declan and his iconic facial hair.

“I was making an excuse with the showrunner Dominic [Treadwell-Collins]. I was saying, ‘I need to keep this mustache for a few weeks because we have reshoots.’ And he said, ‘OK, maybe a week or so.’ And sure enough we did do some reshoots,” he recalled. “But I remember at the time thinking, ‘I really don’t want to get rid of this.’ And when the reshoots were done, I think I kept it for another week when I didn’t need to.”

After having so much fun bringing Declan to life, Turner didn't want to let go of the character or his signature stash, adding, “I kind of lied to a few friends saying that they might call us back for more reshoots. I wasn’t ready to get rid of it — and that’s never happened to me before. I think the universe does tell us things and there’s something in that. There’s a reason why I didn’t want to get rid of it. I enjoyed the show so much and I really responded to this character and I didn’t want the world to be over.”

Fans — and the cast — are still awaiting news of a possible renewal. But if and when Turner gets a call about another season, the actor said he would be ready to start growing the mustache back.

“I delayed ridding myself of the character before the next job, which is strange. But yeah, I did that,” he shared. “[Growing it for season 2] would be a really fun thing. I can’t wait to grow it again. I’d love that.”

Based on Jilly Cooper's novel of the same name, Disney+ and Hulu’s Rivals centers around a feud between two men fighting for control of a television station in 1980s Britain. In addition to Turner, Rivals stars ensemble cast David Tennant, Katherine Parkinson, Victoria Smurfit, Alex Hassell, Bella MacLean, Nafessa Williams, Emily Atack and Danny Dyer.

Word about Rivals traveled fast, with many viewers tuning in for the age gap romance between Rupert (Hassell) and Taggie (MacLean). Fans then stuck around for Turner’s performance as Declan, a journalist trying to balance being a present father and husband with his drive to tell stories that mattered.

“It’s always lovely [to hear how well-received the show and Declan is]. Any actor who says he doesn’t want to hear nice things like that, I don’t believe them. It’s always nice to hear those things, especially in the early days of a show being released,” he told Us. “I’ve been aware of how it’s been received in this country [in the U.K.], which has been really positive.”

Turner, who has been in the industry for nearly two decades, knew Rivals was something special. 

“There’s a funny thing that happens when you’ve done a fair bit of work over 20 years. You land the plane on some things and some you completely miss the airport,” he quipped. “When you do land the plane, you start hearing from people that you’ve not heard from in a little while. My friends whom I haven’t spoken to in months have just emailed me saying they love the show. And it’s like, ‘Wow, it must be really touching people.”

Turner continued: “But not having the social media element, it does keep you very much out of the loop. But I love to hear that it’s being received on a really positive level. … I suppose to some degree it is always still a surprise when people respond to a show and really like it.”

While Turner saw the potential with Rivals, he knew the public’s reception and reaction was out of his hands.

“You wish great things for your project, especially [with] U.S. It’s such a huge market of English speakers so it’s a very big territory for that market. But you just see how people respond,” he noted. “Being an actor there is a lot of disappointment and some shows you think will travel that don’t — and you get confused by that. I just gave up years ago trying to figure out what the business wants and what the markets pick. So it’s so lovely to hear you say these things though [about the support]. It puts a real smile on my face.”

Rivals is currently streaming on Hulu and Di5ney+.

Link to original article, which is full of annoying junk ads and pop-ups, but here it is.

[flowerpowerbutpoisionus]

I am still upset that Danny and Valerie did not stay together, it was such an interesting ship.

I am not really into romance, especially in shows/books/movies/comics where the main character is a guy because the girl is usually just a prize in the end.

But Danny and Valerie is a rare relationship where both characters develop because they are together.

Valerie was turned from a forgettable mean girl to an amazing anti-hero.

Unlike Sam, Valerie loved Danny for who he is, not his ghost form, Once she found that Danny kept the secret from her, she would of have mixed feelings, she would have been angry at him and feel guilty for nearly killing him, after some time apart to clear her head she would get back together

I don't hate Sam , she is just not as interesting as Valerie

heck, Danny and Tucker have better chemistry than Danny and Sam

Butch should of let Danny and Valerie stay together then give Sam more character development

[laoflyer]

the pacing was sooo rushed they couldnt do anything impactful with either sister. you can see the authors pulling the strings, dragging the characters from plot point to plot point, summarizing the development they had in stupid fucking music montages.

the vi enforcer music montage was so egregious. how does a woman who was a prisoner in piltover like a month ago jump into terrorizing the streets she came from? we barely see her have any conflict with it onscreen. why?? because we have to go to the next epic plot point now, sweetie

and isha somehow fixing jinx's mental problems in a cute music montage. okay.

and then their sibling conflict just.. ending... with vander's return. all of that s1 buildup for nothing. the zaun v piltover buildup gone.

and cait becoming fascist but um not really surprise vi converted her back. it would have been nice to see that conversation and see that relationship development but nah we have to keep it a sHoCkInG twist!

and then do the same with Jayce's bullshit killing viktor and his followers. jayce could have just talked to him/shown him the memories like jesusprime viktor told him to but nooo he has to kill him to make the plot happen instead. and so we can have an EpIc PlOt TwIsT in the finale!

im a viktor stan, he was my fav in s1 but they completely ruined him in s2. the heavyhanded jesus symbolism/arc was so antithetical to his league character. the league viktor is an actually well-intentioned extremist who helps people in zaun by giving them cyborg enhancements. his whole goal is to help his country resist its oppressors. s1 set up a viktor who could learn that the only way to stop piltover from exploiting his people is to fight for independence. his changes in arcane make him soo much more of a generic "cosmic threat"-type of villain. and his (b)romance ending with jayce was fucking cringe, sorry. disney level talk no jutsu ending.

and SO MUCH TIME was wasted on the noxian bullshit. it was marvel tier sequel bait that could have easily been cut. ambessa was built up as the big bad but she was barely a miniboss. she got killed by cait flailing around and her daughter who learned magic like, yesterday. lol!

justice for both vi and jinx. holy shit. i thought this was their show

[hpowellsmith]

Honor Bound: Recruitment Day

It's Honor Bound week! The game will be out on 5th December!

While you wait, you can play this mini prequel about a day in the life of the Honor Bound PC, age 17.

Today, the Teranese Service recruiters are coming to Elene's Prospect. You'll work in the military for years after your mandatory service ends - but you don't know that yet.

-

More things to do before 5th December comes around:

Play Honor Bound Chapters 1-3 for free

Wishlist Honor Bound on Steam

Read more about Honor Bound on the forum developer thread

Play Five Months Ago: a mini prologue in which the PC is given their new assignment

And if you're still keen for more before the release comes around, here are a plethora of blogposts to read:

The Honor Bound setting and culture

Building your Honor Bound MC and how I wrote the game to be super responsive to your MC's personality, background, emotions, injury, and trauma responses

How I wrote each of the romanceable characters, plus excerpts from some of their moments in game

Enjoy!

[carrionofamurderprey]

In Defense of Nancy Wheeler,

a short collection of thoughts concocted by someone who is very used to defending a character that is shitted on and misunderstood by half the fandom and victimized by poor writing choices.

1.) In Defense of her being a bad friend

"she abandoned barb and that's why she died"

principally... a shitty thing to do, but i'd ARGUE it was a lapse of judgement that literally triggers her entire character arc. HEAR ME..

and a weaker, but still valid argument that does not excuse her decision, but is fair nonetheless.. how was she supposed to know barb was going to get swallowed up by an inter dimensional monster in the pool???… just saying. JUST SAYING.

Like I mentioned, it triggered a huge character arc for Nancy. Nancy felt awful that Barb went missing, and she recognized her faults. This guilt and confusion toward the tragedy led her to other realizations, like the state of her relationship, who Steve is as a person, and her own identity. My girl had a lot on her plate and she paid her debts in FULL solving Hawkins mysteries to not only compensate for what happened to Barb, but protect her friends and family!!!!!!

Don’t even get me started on how she felt not being able to tell Barb’s parents once she found out what really happened. Must’ve been awful.

2.) In defense of her shitty love triangle (my biggest point arguably)

everyone who hates her because of the love triangle she's subjected to are (and i’m sorry to say it but not really,) stupid. her character is obviously trying to break out of being central to a love triangle, but the writers can not for the life of them figure out what to do with steve and jonathan past s3 developmentally, which keeps her stuck in that place.

Nancy is so badass and has so much potential.

Someone also pointed out the underlying misogynistic issue of keeping women’s development “at bay,”— whether it be intentional or not!!— by having their entire importance dependent on male characters. That’s a post for another day, though.

and i'd like to point out she's not in a place like el, who is also in a canon love triangle, but also completely able to realize and explore her independence after catalysts (being friends with max, breaking up with mike).

THIS IS BECAUSE SHE HASNT HAD THE CHANCE TO BE AUTHENTICALLY ALONE AND REALIZE THE IMPACT OF HER OWN CATALYSTS (barb incident, solving hawkins mysteries)!

nancy’s character— to me and many others feels like she is given the illusion of choice by the writers. nancy in her love triangle is more like mike in his. she is not given the same opportunity to branch out, and is instead stuck choosing between two people, like mike. el's only choice is mike or herself. despite both being female characters that discover their independence, nancy isn't far enough on the receiving end to have her own arc.

Now logically, Nancy could branch out and be alone, and so could Mike. However, just like Mike is set up to be in love with Will, Nancy is set up to be in love with her male interests. Whereas this is sets a tone of freedom and accomplishment for Mike’s character, this.. to me, sets a tone of imprisonment and stillness for Nancy’s.

Final: There is still hope for Nance in s5

i would really like to see more parallels between these two friendships in season 5. like el and max, robin and nancy didn't start off being best friends!!

nancy was standoffish toward robin like el was with max, and they both reacted that way because of a boy, but then slowly realized they valued their female friendship more than romance.

this friendship helped el escape vecna and the idea that she needs approval from the males in her life.

i think it would be cool if they didsomething like that with robin and nancy instead of keeping her at such a stand still with steve and jonathan in the final season.

FIN🤌🏾

[amethystarachnid]

Snowed In  – You and your chosen character are stuck in a cozy cabin together as a blizzard hits. Perfect for slow-burn romance or confessions by the fireplace!

WITH TONY AND FEM READER????? THIS IS SO HIM 😻

A BLIZZARD FOR TWO

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6k

ᯓ★ Summary: You and Tony are preparing the mountain cabin for the team's arrival since you all will celebrate Christmas together but when a blizzard hits and the heating system stops working you are left with nothing to do but cuddle up hoping to warm each other up.

ᯓ★ TW(s): snow blizzard

ᯓ★ with this my first MARVEL Holiday season on this blog officially starts!! Hope you'll like it! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The faint hum of Tony's voice breaks the quiet of the cabin as he rummages through a box of decorations. "Tell me, Y/N, how did I get roped into this festive horror show again? Oh, that’s right—you batted your eyes and said please. My one weakness."

You roll your eyes, trying to untangle the knot of Christmas lights in your lap. "Because someone thought having a team Christmas would be 'good for morale.' Your words, Stark, not mine."

"Yes, but I pictured a swanky tower party with catered food, not being snowed in on a mountain like the setup for a bad Hallmark movie." He pulls out a garish reindeer ornament and holds it up, mock horror etched on his face. "Please tell me this doesn’t go on the tree."

You snatch it from his hand, laughing despite yourself. "It’s tradition! You’re not putting it back in the box. And don’t knock Hallmark movies—they have charm."

"Charm. Right. That’s what we’re calling terrible plots and questionable acting now." Tony smirks, but there’s warmth in his tone. You’re used to his quips by now; they’re practically his love language.

The two of you have been in this cabin for two days, preparing it for the Avengers to arrive for Christmas. It’s nestled high in the mountains, the perfect snowy escape—or so Tony had declared when he offered it up for the festivities. Secretly, you’d been excited at the prospect of spending some quiet time with him.

Now, though, the snowstorm raging outside the frosted windows is threatening to upend everything.

You glance at the window, concern creeping into your voice. "The forecast said light snow. This isn’t light snow."

Tony glances up from his task, his brow furrowing. "I’ll check the weather system." He strides to a sleek tablet propped on the counter, his confident air slipping into one of mild annoyance as he swipes at the screen. "Great. It’s official—we’re in a blizzard. Power grid’s holding, but the roads? Not so much. Guess we’re not getting a visit from the Ghosts of Christmas Avengers anytime soon."

"How bad is it?"

"Put it this way, unless one of them suddenly develops teleportation powers, we’re on our own for a while." He pauses, turning to you with a raised brow. "Hope you’re not sick of me yet, because we might be playing snowed-in buddy comedy for the foreseeable future."

You sigh, though you’re secretly thrilled to have more time with him. "Could be worse. At least we have power and food. And… each other?"

Tony smirks, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. "Was that a declaration of friendship, Y/N? Be still, my heart. Someone fetch the smelling salts."

"Don’t push it." You throw a tangle of lights at him, which he dodges with ease, grinning like a kid.

The hours pass in a cozy haze. You string up lights, bicker over where the tree should go, and argue about how to best arrange the stockings on the mantle. When you complain about the uneven hooks, Tony disappears into the workshop he’s rigged in the cabin’s basement and reemerges an hour later with custom-engineered ones.

"Ta-da. Now no one has to suffer the tragedy of crooked stockings."

"You’re insufferable," you say, but your smile betrays you.

Later, as the storm howls outside, the two of you settle on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate. The fire crackles in the hearth, bathing the room in a warm glow. Tony sits closer than he needs to, his shoulder brushing yours.

"Hey, Y/N," he says after a moment, his voice quieter now. "This isn’t the worst way to spend Christmas, you know. Being stuck here. With you."

Your heart does a little flip, and you laugh nervously to cover it. "Is that your way of saying you’re having fun?"

"Don’t ruin it. I’m trying to be heartfelt here." He nudges you, a teasing smile on his lips, but there’s something genuine in his eyes.

You hold his gaze for a beat longer than you mean to, and for a moment, the blizzard outside feels like it’s miles away.

You’re woken up by the cold. Not the cozy, crackling-fire type of cold you’ve come to associate with this mountain retreat, but the teeth-chattering, toes-numbing kind of chill that has you pulling your blanket tighter around you, to no avail.

The fire in the living room must’ve gone out. You glance at the clock on the bedside table, its faint glow illuminating the late hour. A shiver runs down your spine as you sit up, and your breath puffs visibly in the icy air.

This can’t be right.

You throw on a thick sweater over your pajamas and venture into the hallway, the wood floors frigid beneath your socks. Tony’s door is closed, but you can hear him stirring inside. The sound of a door creaking open confirms your suspicions—he’s awake, too.

“Don’t tell me,” his voice grumbles from the shadowy doorway, “you’re freezing your ass off, too.”

“No, I woke up because I missed your charming personality,” you deadpan, hugging yourself for warmth.

Tony steps into the hallway, looking far too alert for someone who’s just woken up. His sweatpants and hoodie combo is decidedly less polished than his usual suits, but somehow, the sight of him like this—a little disheveled, a little more human—makes your heart do a somersault.

He raises an eyebrow at your shivering form. “You look like a popsicle.”

“You’re one to talk. Your nose is red.”

“Touché.”

The two of you head to the thermostat in the living room. Tony fiddles with it for a few minutes, muttering under his breath about shoddy wiring and questionable designs. Finally, he steps back with a sigh, rubbing his hands together.

“Bad news,” he says, his tone as flat as his next quip. “The heating system is toast. And unless you know how to jury-rig a thermal reactor in the middle of the night, we’re stuck like this until morning.”

You groan, rubbing your arms. “Can’t you fix it now?”

He gives you an incredulous look. “I could, but it would involve tearing apart half the basement with tools I don’t have. Also, I’m not exactly thrilled about freezing to death in the process. I’ll handle it first thing tomorrow, promise.”

“Great,” you mutter, already dreading the long night ahead. “Guess I’ll just wear every piece of clothing I packed and hope for the best.”

Tony smirks, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Or,” he says, dragging out the word, “you could come sleep in my room. You know, for the sake of body heat and survival. I’ll even keep the innuendos to a minimum. Scout’s honor.”

Your heart skips a beat, though you’re quick to mask it with a skeptical look. “That’s your grand solution? Sharing a bed?”

He shrugs, his casual tone doing little to hide the faint awkwardness behind his suggestion. “Hey, I didn’t say it wouldn’t be weird. But it beats waking up as human icicles. Besides, I’m a gentleman.”

The idea of sharing a bed with Tony Stark—the man who drives you up the wall and makes your heart race in equal measure—feels both mortifying and strangely comforting. After a moment of hesitation, you sigh.

“Fine,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. “But if you hog the blankets, I’m kicking you out.”

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Deal.”

You don’t know why you thought it would be easier.

The bed in Tony’s room is plenty big, but it might as well be a shoebox for how self-conscious you feel. The two of you lie stiffly on opposite sides, a careful expanse of space between you.

“I can feel the awkwardness radiating off you,” Tony says after a few minutes, his voice low and teasing.

You turn your head to glare at him, though the dark hides most of your expression. “I’m not awkward. I’m cold. And trying to sleep.”

“Right. Because you’re the picture of relaxation right now.”

“Tony.”

He chuckles softly, and the sound sends an unexpected warmth through your chest. “Alright, alright. I’ll shut up. Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Tony.”

At some point during the night, the distance between you disappears.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is warmth—a stark contrast to the freezing air that had plagued the cabin earlier. The second thing you notice is that the warmth is coming from Tony.

Your breath catches as you realize his arm is draped across your waist, his body pressed against your side. And then there’s his face, nestled comfortably against your chest, his soft, even breaths tickling your skin through your sweater.

For a moment, you’re too stunned to move.

You’d expected this to be awkward, sure, but you’d figured you’d be the one clinging to him in your sleep, not the other way around. Yet here he is, looking almost serene in his slumber, his usual sharp edges softened by the quiet vulnerability of sleep.

You’re torn between amusement and something far more dangerous—a deep, fluttering ache in your chest.

As carefully as you can, you shift slightly, trying to get a better look at his face without waking him. His features are relaxed, his lips slightly parted, and you realize with a pang that he looks younger like this.

“Morning,” comes his groggy voice, startling you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes snap to his, which are barely open but sparkling with something teasing. He doesn’t move, though, his head still resting against you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Tony,” you say, your voice hushed. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping,” he mumbles, his tone sleep-roughened and shamelessly smug. “You make a surprisingly good pillow, by the way.”

Heat rushes to your face, but you’re too flustered to push him away. “You’re the one who—”

“Cuddled up to you in my sleep?” He finally lifts his head, though his arm stays firmly around your waist. “Can you blame me? You’re warm. And soft.”

“Tony!”

He chuckles, sitting up slightly and running a hand through his hair. “Relax, Y/N. No need to get all flustered. I’m just stating facts.”

Your glare has no real heat to it, especially when he flashes you that disarming grin of his. “You could’ve just stayed on your side of the bed.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You groan, flopping back against the pillow. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are.” He stretches lazily, looking far too pleased with himself. “Tell you what—since I was the offending party, I’ll make breakfast. Pancakes sound good?”

“You’re bribing me with pancakes?”

“Is it working?”

You sigh, unable to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. But they’d better be good.”

“Please. Have you met me?”

As Tony slides out of bed and heads for the kitchen, you can’t help but feel that, despite the cold, being stuck here with him might not be so bad after all.

The day begins innocently enough.

Tony, true to his word, makes breakfast. You’re surprised he even knows how to cook pancakes, let alone make them taste this good. He doesn’t hesitate to point this out repeatedly.

“See? Stark doesn’t just do genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. I also do chef extraordinaire,” he says, flipping a golden pancake onto a plate with a dramatic flourish.

You snort, reaching for the syrup. “Congratulations, Tony. You’ve mastered the art of boxed pancake mix.”

He winks, sliding into the chair across from you. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

It’s easy, the banter. Comfortable, even. But under the surface, there’s an unmistakable tension that wasn’t there before.

You’re hyper-aware of every movement, every glance. The way Tony’s hand brushes yours when he passes you a fork sends a jolt up your arm. The casual way he leans back in his chair, his hoodie riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin at his hip, has your cheeks heating before you can stop yourself.

And then there’s the way he looks at you.

You catch him watching you a second too long when you’re licking syrup off your fork. His gaze lingers, his expression unreadable but undeniably intense, and it sends a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

“Something on my face?” you ask, trying to sound breezy.

“Just admiring the view,” he replies, so smoothly it feels like a challenge.

The tension only builds as the day goes on.

The blizzard outside continues its relentless assault on the cabin, trapping you in a snow-globe world of swirling white. The two of you decide to tackle the Christmas decorations to pass the time, but the close proximity and the shared task only seem to make things worse.

“Hold that steady,” you say, stretching to hook the garland onto a nail above the fireplace.

Tony stands behind you, one hand braced on the ladder you’re perched on, the other holding the trailing end of the garland. He’s close—too close. You can feel the heat of his body against your legs, his steadying grip firm but gentle.

“If I hold it any steadier, I’ll be up there with you,” he quips, but his voice is lower than usual, rough around the edges.

You glance down at him, your breath catching when you find him looking up at you. His gaze flickers over your face, your lips, and for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

“You’re staring again,” you say softly, trying to mask the tremor in your voice.

He doesn’t look away. “Maybe I like what I see.”

The words hang between you, heavy and electric.

You clear your throat, breaking the spell. “Help me down?”

Tony steps back just enough to give you space, his hands reaching for your waist as you climb off the ladder. The contact is brief but searing, his fingers warm and sure against your sides.

“Safe and sound,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a small, almost teasing smile. But there’s something deeper in his eyes—something unspoken and magnetic that leaves you reeling.

Later, you find yourself in the kitchen, attempting to bake cookies while Tony works on fixing the heating system in the basement. The storm hasn’t let up, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with the comforting rhythm of measuring and mixing.

That is, until Tony walks in, covered in a fine layer of grease and looking far too good for someone who’s just crawled out from under a broken furnace.

“Good news,” he says, wiping his hands on a rag. “The heating should be up and running in about an hour. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks, Stark,” you reply, focusing on the dough in front of you. It’s safer than looking at him, with his tousled hair and smug grin.

He leans against the counter, watching you with that same unreadable expression he’s been wearing all day. “So, what are we making?”

“Cookies. If you’re nice, I’ll let you have one.”

He smirks, stepping closer—too close. His hand brushes yours as he reaches for a stray chocolate chip, and the simple touch sends your pulse racing.

“I’m always nice,” he says, popping the chip into his mouth.

You scoff, turning to glare at him, only to realize just how close he is. Close enough that you can see the faint stubble on his jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. Close enough that if you leaned in just a fraction—

The thought sends your heart into overdrive, and you step back hastily, almost knocking over the bowl of dough in the process.

“Careful, Y/N,” he says, his voice low and teasing. “Wouldn’t want to make a mess.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, a little too quickly.

His grin widens, like he knows exactly what effect he’s having on you.

By the time evening rolls around, the tension has reached a boiling point.

The two of you sit by the fire, which is now roaring cheerfully thanks to Tony’s earlier handiwork. The heat is a welcome reprieve from the chill, but it does little to ease the restless energy between you.

Tony lounges on the couch, his arm draped over the backrest, his legs stretched out in a way that’s both casual and entirely too appealing. You sit on the opposite end, clutching a mug of hot chocolate like it’s a lifeline.

“So,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Did today live up to your Christmas expectations?”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the part where the heating broke, or the part where we almost froze to death?”

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Come on, admit it. You had fun.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. “Maybe a little.”

The smile he gives you in return is softer this time, almost disarming. He shifts slightly, turning to face you more fully.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

His tone is different now—serious, but not heavy.

“Sure,” you say, your heart pounding for reasons you don’t fully understand.

He hesitates for a moment, as if weighing his words. “Do you ever wonder… what this would be like? Us, I mean. If we weren’t—”

“Complicated?” you finish for him, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze locks with yours, and the intensity in his eyes makes it hard to breathe. “Yeah. Complicated.”

The air between you crackles with something unspoken, something that’s been simmering all day—or maybe longer.

Your pulse quickens, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might close the distance between you. But then he leans back, breaking the moment with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Never mind,” he says, his voice lighter now. “Forget I said anything.”

But you can’t forget. And judging by the way he looks at you—like he’s trying not to let himself hope—you don’t think he can, either.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of half-hearted conversation and stolen glances, the unspoken tension between you lingering like the warmth of the fire. You can’t help but wonder how much longer you can keep pretending you don’t feel it, too.

The fire crackles softly, its glow painting the room in shades of gold and amber. The storm outside is still raging, but in the warmth of the cabin, the rest of the world feels miles away.

You’re sitting on the floor in front of the hearth, a blanket draped over your legs and a mug of tea cooling in your hands. Tony sits beside you, close enough that his knee brushes yours whenever he shifts. It’s a quiet moment, comfortable and calm, but your mind is anything but.

You can’t stop replaying his words from earlier, the way his voice had softened, the way his gaze had lingered.

“Do you ever wonder what this would be like?”

The question has been burning in the back of your mind all day, and you can’t let it go. Not when every glance, every touch, seems to hint at something unspoken between you.

You glance at him, taking in the way the firelight dances across his features. His usual sharpness is softened by the flickering glow, and the sight tugs at something deep inside you.

Before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out.

“Tony.”

He looks at you, his brow quirking in that familiar way. “What’s up, Y/N? You’ve got that look.”

You set your mug down, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Earlier… when you asked me about ‘us.’ What did you mean by that?”

Tony freezes, his easy smile faltering for just a moment before he schools his expression into something more neutral. He leans back slightly, resting his arm on the hearth’s edge, and you can tell he’s stalling.

“Ah, so we’re revisiting that, huh?” he says, his tone light but not quite as casual as he wants it to be. “I was hoping we could just let that one slide into the ‘awkward but forgettable’ category.”

“Tony.” You give him a look, one that says you’re not letting him off the hook.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. You want the truth? I was trying to ask if… if you’ve ever thought about what it’d be like if things between us weren’t so, you know—”

“Complicated,” you finish for him, your voice softer this time.

He nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Yeah. Complicated.”

You wait, giving him the space to continue.

“It’s just…” He hesitates, his hand gesturing vaguely as he searches for the right words. “We’re friends, and that’s great. I mean, you’re one of the best people I’ve ever had in my life, and I’m not exactly drowning in great people. But sometimes I wonder if maybe…”

He trails off, his voice fading into the quiet crackle of the fire. When he finally looks at you again, there’s something raw in his eyes, something unguarded that makes your heart ache.

“Maybe what?” you prompt, barely above a whisper.

He laughs softly, though there’s no humor in it. “Maybe I want more. But that’s crazy, right? Because you’re you, and I’m me, and I don’t want to screw this up.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you’re not sure if your heart is pounding from his words or the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“Tony…” you begin, but he cuts you off with a self-deprecating smile.

“Forget it. I’m rambling. You don’t have to—”

Before he can finish, you lean in and kiss him.

It’s sudden, impulsive, and entirely out of character for you, but you can’t stop yourself. Not when his words are still echoing in your ears, not when the thought of him doubting how much you care makes your chest ache.

For a split second, he freezes, his breath catching against your lips. And then he’s kissing you back, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

The world around you fades away—the fire, the storm, everything. All that exists is the press of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hand on your skin, the way he leans into you like he’s afraid you might disappear.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other. His eyes search yours, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief.

“Wow,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with awe. “So, uh… not crazy, then?”

You laugh, your hand brushing against his where it rests on your cheek. “Not crazy. Not even a little.”

A slow, genuine smile spreads across his face, and for the first time all day, the tension between you melts away, replaced by something deeper, something undeniable.

“Well,” he says, his tone shifting back to that familiar, teasing lilt, “if I’d known that’s what it would take to shut me up, I would’ve started rambling sooner.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t push your luck, Stark.”

“Too late,” he replies, his grin widening.

And as the fire crackles beside you and the storm rages on outside, you realize you’ve never felt warmer in your life.

Night settles over the cabin with a heavy quiet, the kind that amplifies the faint creaks of the wooden beams and the low howl of the wind outside. The fire in the hearth has burned down to embers, but it doesn’t matter much; the heating system is working again—or so Tony assures you.

You stand in the hallway, awkwardly lingering by your bedroom door while Tony scratches the back of his neck, his usual confidence somewhat muted. It’s strange to think how much has changed in a single day.

“We’re really doing this, huh?” he says, his tone teasing but his eyes searching yours.

You smile softly. “Yeah. We are.”

A small, crooked grin tugs at his lips, and for a moment, you think he’s about to say something else. But then he steps back, gesturing toward his room.

“Alright, then. Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, his voice lighter now, though there’s a flicker of hesitation beneath it.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you reply, your heart squeezing as you watch him retreat down the hall.

Half an hour later, you’re shivering again.

The blankets piled on your bed offer little relief against the creeping chill seeping into the cabin. You groan, pulling the covers tighter around you, but it’s no use.

How is this possible? you think. The heating system was fine earlier. Tony said it was fine.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a soft knock sounds at your door.

“Y/N?” Tony’s voice comes through, low and hesitant.

You sit up, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. “Come in.”

The door creaks open, and Tony steps inside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. His hair is slightly mussed, like he’s been lying down, but there’s an odd mix of sheepishness and mischief in his expression that immediately puts you on alert.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, though you already have a sinking suspicion.

He clears his throat, leaning casually against the doorframe. “So, uh… funny story. The heating system’s on the fritz again.”

You stare at him, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yup. Totally busted. Must’ve been a loose wire or, uh, something technical,” he says, waving a hand vaguely.

You narrow your eyes. “Something technical, huh?”

His gaze shifts, landing on anything in the room that isn’t you. “Yeah. Technical stuff. Very complicated. I’d explain it, but you’d probably get bored.”

You don’t respond right away, letting the silence stretch just long enough for him to start fidgeting. And that’s when it happens—his carefully crafted nonchalance slips.

“I mean, it’s not like I turned it off or anything,” he says quickly, then freezes, his eyes widening as if he can’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth.

You blink, processing his slip. “Wait. You turned it off?”

“No,” he says immediately, his voice rising a pitch. Then, realizing how unconvincing that sounds, he sighs and drags a hand down his face. “Okay, fine. Yes. I turned it off. But I had a good reason!”

You cross your arms, the blanket slipping slightly from your shoulders. “This should be good. Let’s hear it.”

He hesitates, his usual quick wit seemingly failing him for once. “I just… Look, it’s freezing, okay? And I thought maybe—”

“You thought maybe you’d use the cold as an excuse to come sleep with me?” you finish for him, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice.

Tony’s cheeks flush, and he looks away, muttering, “It sounds worse when you say it like that.”

Despite the chill in the air, warmth blooms in your chest at the thought of him going to such ridiculous lengths just to be close to you.

“You know,” you say, stepping closer, “you didn’t need an excuse.”

His head snaps back to you, his expression shifting from embarrassed to surprised. “I didn’t?”

You shake your head, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “No, Tony. You could’ve just said you didn’t want to sleep alone.”

His mouth opens, then closes, and for once, he seems genuinely at a loss for words.

“Come on,” you say, taking his hand and pulling him toward the bed. “If you’re going to sneak your way into my room, at least do it properly.”

He lets out a laugh—half-relieved, half-something else—and follows you without protest.

As soon as the two of you settle under the covers, the warmth is immediate and all-encompassing. It’s not just the shared body heat; it’s the presence of him beside you, the sense of safety and comfort that comes with it.

Tony lies on his back at first, staring up at the ceiling like he’s trying to play it cool. But it doesn’t last long.

Within moments, he shifts closer, his arm brushing yours. Then he turns onto his side, facing you, his expression unusually soft.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

You nod, your heart fluttering. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

His lips curve into a small smile, and before you can say anything else, he moves again—settling himself with his head resting on your chest.

The action is so uncharacteristic, so unexpectedly vulnerable, that you’re momentarily stunned. But then he lets out a contented sigh, his breath warm against your sweater, and you realize how natural it feels.

“Comfy?” you ask, your voice tinged with amusement.

“Very,” he murmurs, his eyes already half-closed.

You chuckle softly, threading your fingers through his hair on instinct. His reaction is immediate; he leans into your touch, a quiet hum of approval escaping him.

“Not bad,” he says, his voice muffled against you. “You’ve got a real talent for this, Y/N.”

“For what? Letting you use me as a pillow?”

“Exactly. A-plus performance. Five stars. Would recommend.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. As ridiculous as he is, there’s something incredibly endearing about seeing him like this—unguarded, content, and completely at ease.

Minutes pass, the firelight casting soft shadows across the room. Your hand continues its slow, gentle movements through his hair, and you feel him relax further, his breathing evening out.

“Hey, Y/N?” he murmurs, his voice drowsy but sincere.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

He tilts his head slightly, just enough to meet your eyes. “For letting me in. For this.”

Your chest tightens, and you brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Anytime, Tony.”

He smiles, the kind of smile that feels like it’s just for you, and you realize in that moment that you’ve never been more certain about anything in your life.

As his eyes drift shut and his breathing slows, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head, letting the warmth of the fire and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

Morning arrives quietly. The faint light of dawn filters through the curtains, soft and golden, painting the room in gentle hues. The cabin is silent save for the occasional creak of wood adjusting to the temperature. It’s a peace you don’t often experience, and for a moment, you let yourself bask in it.

Then you become acutely aware of the weight pressing against you.

Tony’s face is buried against your chest, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, his body molded to yours like he’s been glued there. He’s still asleep, his breathing deep and even, but every now and then, he nuzzles closer, a contented sigh escaping him.

You’re torn between laughing at how clingy he is and feeling ridiculously fond of the man currently using you as his personal pillow.

With a small smile, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb him too much. The screen lights up, and you blink against the brightness as you read the messages that came in during the night.

The blizzard is over.

The team is on their way, currently en route on a Quinjet and expected to arrive in a few hours. Relief washes over you; as much as you’ve enjoyed this unexpected time alone with Tony, you know everyone will be eager to celebrate Christmas together.

You glance down at him, his dark lashes resting against his cheek, his lips slightly parted. He looks peaceful, younger almost, like the weight of the world isn’t constantly pressing down on him.

“Tony,” you say softly, brushing a hand over his shoulder. “Wake up.”

He groans in response, burrowing further into you.

“Come on,” you coax, trying to suppress your amusement. “The others are on their way. We should get up and make sure the cabin’s ready for them.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbles, his voice muffled against your chest.

You laugh, nudging him gently. “Tony, come on. You’ll care when Steve gets here and starts giving you his disappointed dad look because we’re not ready.”

He shifts slightly, cracking one eye open to peer at you. “Let him look. I’m busy.”

“Busy?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Busy doing this.”

As if to prove his point, he tightens his hold on you and nuzzles his face even deeper against your chest, his breath warm against your skin. His arms are firm around your waist, and despite the fact that you’re trying to wake him up, there’s a traitorous part of you that doesn’t want him to let go.

“Tony,” you say, your voice firmer this time, though it’s hard to sound authoritative when he’s acting so endearing.

“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the fabric of your shirt as he speaks. “I’m comfortable. You’re comfortable. No reason to ruin a good thing.”

You roll your eyes, though the fond smile on your face betrays you. “The team is literally flying here right now. They’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Plenty of time,” he counters, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Tony,” you say again, but before you can finish, he tilts his head up slightly, meeting your gaze with a lopsided grin.

“What?” he asks innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, though there’s no real heat in your words.

“And yet, here you are, cuddling me anyway,” he quips, looking far too pleased with himself.

Before you can come up with a retort, he leans back down, resting his head against your chest again. His voice is quieter now, almost shy as he adds, “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

Your heart softens at his admission, and you find yourself relenting.

“Fine,” you say, running a hand through his hair. “But only for a few more minutes. Then we really need to get moving.”

He hums in response, his eyes slipping shut once more as he leans into your touch. You feel his breathing even out again, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment.

When you finally manage to coax Tony out of bed, it’s a slow, reluctant process.

He clings to you the entire time, draping an arm over your shoulder as you sit up, resting his chin on your head while you stretch. Even when you stand, he follows you, keeping one hand on your waist as though afraid you’ll suddenly disappear.

“Are you always this clingy in the morning?” you tease, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He grins, unrepentant. “Only when I’ve got something worth clinging to.”

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Come on, Romeo. We’ve got work to do.”

He groans but doesn’t let go as you make your way to the kitchen. You try to shoo him off, insisting you can handle things just fine on your own, but he refuses to budge, staying close as you start preparing breakfast.

“Tony,” you say, exasperated but laughing, “I need both hands to crack these eggs.”

“You’ve got two hands,” he replies, leaning against the counter with a smug smirk. “Mine are free. Put me to work.”

You shake your head, handing him a whisk. “Fine. You can whisk. But don’t make a mess.”

He salutes you dramatically. “Yes, ma’am.”

By the time the Quinjet lands outside, the cabin is spotless, breakfast is ready, and you’ve managed to coax Tony into releasing you—though not without a fair amount of grumbling on his part.

The team files in, shaking off snow and shedding coats as they greet you warmly.

Steve glances between you and Tony, his brows furrowing slightly. “Everything okay here? You guys managed alright during the storm?”

You exchange a glance with Tony, his expression betraying nothing but smug satisfaction.

“Oh, we managed,” you say, biting back a smile.

Steve eyes you both suspiciously, but before he can press further, Natasha strides in, sniffing the air.

“Did you guys actually cook breakfast?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Tony whisked,” you say, and he preens like it’s the highest praise he’s ever received.

“I whisked,” he repeats proudly.

Natasha snorts, muttering something under her breath about miracles, and the conversation shifts as the team settles in.

Throughout the morning, Tony stays close—always within arm’s reach, always finding some excuse to brush against you or nudge your shoulder. It’s subtle enough that no one seems to notice, but you’re keenly aware of it, and the warmth it brings stays with you long after the blizzard is nothing more than a memory.

It’s going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.

stop guys I love Christmas so much