#and they are all. in a way. the same person in different places

[wcnderlnds]

opposites attract | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: he's chaotic and loud, you're shy and introverted but he can't help but be intrigued by you ・❥・word count: 1.3k ・❥・warnings: mentions of death bc squid game, nam-gyu is mean to reader (im sry), female reader. ・❥・ authors note: i love writing this chaotic man <3

Of course the second game just had to be one where you had to interact with people and find a team. Talking to people, approaching them – it was your worst nightmare. As you stood there in the sea of people all talking and teaming up, you timidly stayed in place, your hands pulled into the sleeves of your jacket giving yourself sweater paws. Since the first game, you had kept to yourself. You had even voted to leave. Why would anyone want to stay in a place like this where people were getting killed for losing children’s games? Unfortunately, the majority had decided to stay even after a heavily heated debate where player 456 had declared he’d been here before. While it was all kicking off, you had hid behind the crowd. Conflict was something you avoided. People were usually something you avoided but when a salesman came up to you with promises of money, how could you say no?

So, as you stood there, too shy to approach, you accepted the fact that you were probably going to die. There was no way you had enough courage in you to find a team. Even if you did, who was there to ask? The only person you might consider approachable was player 456 but he already had a team. There was no point going over there, asking and risking embarrassment as they turned you down. Aimlessly you wandered around the room, fingers toying with the ends of your sleeve – a nervous habit that you’d had since you were a child.

Guess you’d just have to accept your fate. You were either going to get killed because you couldn’t find a team or end up in a team who didn’t want you. Just as you were about to sit down and give up entirely, someone cleared their throat behind you. Spinning around, you came face to face with the infamous player 230. His purple hair was unmistakable, you’d seen him when he’d been fighting some other boy yesterday.

“Senorita, excuse me,” he said, his hands clenching his jacket to his chest. Your eyes landed on his multi-colored nails first before daring to glance up to look at him. Eyes met his dark ones for only a second before looking back down at the ground. He noticed instantly, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. “Team with us.”

“R-really?” You dared to glance back up. He seemed serious but the look his friend was giving was anything but friendly. It looked like he’d rather team with anyone but you.

“Yeah, really? She’s kind of weird,” Nam-gyu looked you up and down, pulling a face then turning back to Thanos. “We can find someo-”

“Shutup,” he held his hand up in front of his friend’s face, his eyes solely focused on you. “Team with us. I’ll keep you safe.”

It wasn’t like you had any other options so you nodded. Thanos seemed thrilled, throwing his arm around your shoulders in a side hug. Your instinct was telling you not to trust him but at the same time there was something slightly comforting about him. After all, he had ignored his friend to solely talk to you. Why on Earth he was so adamant to have you on his team baffled you but it saved you from getting eliminated… if you made it through the game anyway. 

Turns out it was five mini games in one. As the rest of your team argued about who would do what, Thanos’ eyes were fixated on you who was looking at the ground. There was something about you that intrigued him. The difference in your personalities was more than noticeable. He was loud, crazy and obnoxious while you, on the other hand, seemed shy, insecure and quiet. Maybe it was true. Maybe opposites really did attract because for some reason, he wanted to get to know you more. He actually wanted to know you. That rarely happened with him. Usually he was the type of guy to get a crush, fuck and then move on to the next one. It was rare for ‘Mr One Night Stand’ to really want to get to know someone. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. The pounding in his chest as he tried to examine you with his eyes. It was impossible to really get a good read on you.

“And, the loser over there can do Gonggi,” Nam-gyu’s voice echoed through your ears. Panic struck, you leaned forward, speaking before you even thought about it.

“I-I don’t know how to play Gonggi,” you mumbled.

“Better learn quickly then, huh?” Nam-gyu smiled fake-sweetly at you.

“Hey, stop it,” Thanos stopped his silent beat boxing to chime in, leaning forward to glare at his friend. “Leave her alone… What are you good at?”

“I can do spinning top. I played it a lot with my friends…” you tried to speak with a bit more confidence, a pink hue tinting your cheeks. Thanos noticed, grinning at you.

“Spinning top for you then. You’re cute, by the way,” he winked, causing your cheeks to only redden more.

Somehow, someway, the team had managed to survive. A lot of teams seemed to struggle with Spinning Top but you had got it the first try – Thanos almost blowing out your eardrums with the loud cheer of celebration when you did. Now, back in the main room, you were sat with the team. If it was up to you, you would have gone to sit by yourself but Thanos had insisted you sit with them. It seemed like he wanted to keep you around. It wouldn’t be too bad to have some friends, right? You sat beside Thanos, a space between you. While he was in a world of his own, DJing some invisible show in his head by the looks of his hand motions, the rest of the team were arguing. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them.

Watching everyone talk with each other so easily – even if it was arguing – made you feel slightly jealous that you couldn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to because you did but the mere thought of striking up a conversation with anyone brought you too much anxiety. It was just better to keep to yourself. If you had to be the weird, quiet girl then so be it.

“They’re idiots,” the deep voice beside you said. Turning to look, you’d noticed Thanos had closed the distance between you both, his shoulder touching yours now. “You good?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” you smiled, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for letting me team with you.”

“No problem, Senorita. Told you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” His toothy grin made your heart skip a beat. Oh boy. That was the last thing you needed.

“Y-yeah,” you laughed, tearing your eyes away from him yet again.

This time, his finger gently reached out, tilting your chin to look at him. His eyes pierced yours, a look of intrigue on his face. “You have pretty eyes. It’s a shame you think the floor deserves to see them more than me.” He leaned in a little closer, his hot breath fanning against your face. Being close to someone wasn’t new for you. It was something that didn’t happen often but you’d had your fair share of encounters with people. “Meant it when I said you were cute, babygirl. Stick with me through these games and when we survive, let me take you out for a drink. Maybe I can get more than a few words at a time out of you.”

Once again, he winked at you, removing his finger from your chin and turning his attention to the argument going on in front of him. Meanwhile you were in a daze, your heart beating against your chest so much you were sure it was about to beat out of your ribcage. Yeah, this man was definitely going to be trouble.

taglist: @angelofbooksworld @ldydeath @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @djarindroid @justsisse @sassyyoyo @lillyysgirlblog @mysatnin @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind

[chrollohearttags]

love thy neighbor • r. sukuna

(Y/N) moves into an apartment complex on the other side of town and winds up living right next door to one of the most notorious drug dealers in the city nonetheless! But looks can be deceiving…

📝: black!fem plus size reader, plug!sukuna, age gap (6 years or so) mentions of toxic relationship and baby trapping, religious trauma, anxiety, alcohol + drug use, comfort + fluff and angst to smut, missionary, prone bone, oral sex, reader cries during, daddy is used a couple times, size difference, lots of kissing, positive affirmations, creampie

wc: 3.0K

🎙️: I swear imma get back to posting regularly! I’m just being lazy and hating my writing rn (it sucks) 😭 but I hope y’all enjoy

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you didn’t know what to expect when you found yourself residing on the same floor as plug!sukuna..it was your first time living on your own. Fresh out of your parents’ house with minimal belongings and all of the savings you had managed to scrounge over the years. Enough to cover first and last month’s rent with some extra left over..working as a receptionist in a local doctors office by day and offering online tutoring services at night to suffice your income. You'd return home from your shift, ready to relax by at least eight o clock..meanwhile, plug!sukuna was just beginning his night. Heading out into the streets to do God knows what until the early morning hours. But he’d never leave until he’d done two things: said hello and made sure that you were straight. You never really understood the logic behind it..especially considering the fact that you weren’t exactly close friends or even acquaintances beforehand. Hell, he didn’t know you at all and yet, he was just as kind as an old lady bringing you cookies to welcome you to the neighboorhood.

nonetheless, plug!sukuna would always tell you “..keep that door locked, don’t answer that shit for nobody and call me if you need anything, aight?” his deep voice was the last voice you’d heard for the evening and the first when you awoke in the morning. Sometimes, he’d even bring you breakfast per your request and you’d eat together. You’d cut off all ties to your controlling, religious fanatic family and the narcissistic ex who’d all but attempted to stick you with a kid you didn’t want and turn you into his personal doll…trapped inside of the house with no purpose other than to serve him. It was the way all of the men in your former faith operated. But you weren’t interested. Not in the slightest. In fact, you wanted change so drastic, it’d make their goddamn heads spin! Over time, you’d grow closer to plug!sukuna. His second long check ins and warnings became full blown conversations as the two of you congregated downstairs in the pool area or at the mailbox for a cup of coffee. A cigarette dangling from his fingertips to go light once he went outside.

“I know this place seems nice and all from first glance but…imma let you in on a lil’ secret, baby. It’s all types of people who come here..looking for trouble and hell, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m part of the reason. That’s why I tell you to keep your door locked. Your pretty ass answers for the wrong person and somebody is bound to try and take advantage. ‘Damn shame I’d have to fuck someone up if something were to happen to you..”

plug!sukuna was sweet and endearing in his own right. But that’s what drew you into him..he was the very antithesis to what you knew men to be. Brutally honest yet so empathetic to your feelings. Rough as hell around the edges but a total gentleman. He may have done horrible things but he was a good guy..the best damn one you’d ever met. Unbeknownst to him, you’d watch him from the window leaving out; others surrounding him in the parking lot in similar cars. Blacked out with tinted windows..doing sleight of hand to pass something to other tenants who you’d recognized. Only what you could assume to be drugs. A couple of the guys you’d recognized from church, talking to deacons and pastors..now it’d all made so much more sense. Even so, plug!sukuna kept you out of that part of his life as much as possible. Eventually, some months would pass and it was a secret to no one that you’d grown quite fond of him..damn near smitten even.

however, plug!sukuna was adamant on not taking it there with you! He’d admitted himself that you were beautiful and in another life, any other circumstances..he wouldn’t hesitate to make you his. The problem was, you were still too vulnerable and he was knee deep in a lifestyle he wanted you to steer clear from. You were healing from years of trauma and downright abuse..trying to navigate this world on your own. If he were any other scumbag, he could have easily sucked you into his world and had you out here doing his bidding.

“(Y/N) baby..do you know how many girls just like you..who leave bad situations and end up in worse ones because some nasty motherfucker saw how vulnerable they were and used that to their advantage? How many girls went from being in the church to being on their knees for some pimp? I care too much ‘bout you to let that happen. I’m no good for you, I swear. You’d only end up hurt because I can’t give you all of me. Shit, I can’t even promise I’d make a good boyfriend. I’m selfish as hell, I’m always gone..I’ve slept with more women than I can remember. What could you possibly want with somebody like me, huh? What could I possibly do for you, (y/n)?”

but you saw right through plug!sukuna’s facade. He was gentle at heart..a romantic even. He wanted his person to spoil and adore just as much as you did. The streets were his only love for most of his life. He’d seen many things but nothing quite like you..those round, doe eyes; so innocent and pure. Pouty lips, chubby cheeks and the soft, ringlet curls that surrounded that gorgeous face. That soft, plump body and those thighs that rubbed together when you walked away. He wanted to devour you whole sometimes..many nights had plug!sukuna lied in his bed next door, thinking of you being on top of him. Those perky breasts jiggling as he bounced you up and down on his cock. Those nails clawed at his chest as sweat poured down his skin. But those thoughts were far too lewd and disgusting for someone like you! He was ashamed of even having them. But he couldn’t help himself..especially when that sweet, airy voice all but begged him to take you.

“Because I love you, Ryo..I love everything about you. Even the bad shit. I don’t care what you do because it’s not who you are..you’re the man that brings me food and coffee in the morning so I don’t have to rush before work. You’re the man who kisses my forehead when he leaves because you know, deep down..it could be the last time I see you. You’re the man who calls me every time he hears a gunshot or sirens because he worries himself sick about me when I’m not near him. You carry my laundry baskets and groceries, you clean my apartment while I’m sleeping because I’m too tired. And not once have you ever tried to touch me. You never made me repay you with sex or anything. You could easily hurt me and you can’t even bring yourself to raise your voice, even when I’m dead fucking wrong. No one has ever cared about me that much, boyfriend or otherwise and I don’t give a damn if you sell drugs or blow up buildings. A man who’d do all of that for me and never asks for anything in return is exactly who I want.”

plug!sukuna found himself dumbstruck for the first time in a long time..standing there with your small hand cradling his chiseled jaw, tears streaming down your face, he’d find that his own eyes were welling and burning. He’d never heard anyone speak about him in such a way. “Damn, I guess you can read me like a book.” Hell, he’d never acted that way with anyone else either. Yet here he was, treating you like a princess. He couldn’t pretend anymore..he had to be honest with you..and himself.

“I—I love you too, (y/n). So much..”

“Then make me yours. Right now..right here.”

“you know once we do this, we can’t go back..”

“Please..leaving the past behind is kind of my thing.”

it didn’t take long for your lips to meet in a fiery haze, tongues intertwined in a moment of heated bliss. Your hands roaming one another’s bodies as moans slipped through..your clothes all but becoming discarded heaps on the living room floor like a movie scene cliche. His lips traced from your neck to your collarbone; slightly dredging his teeth along the skin in the process.

“Here, baby..take my hand.” plug!sukuna, in one fell swoop hoisted you into his arms as if you weighed practically next to nothing. Continuing to feed you those slow kisses, he’d carry you to a nearby wall and part your thighs. With your legs resting on his shoulders, he’d mark every inch of you. From your sensitive nipples which he cradled in his mouth to that pudgy tummy he loved so much to that juicy center, which was practically leaking for him.

“This all me? Just from some kissing?..” “This is nothing. I touch myself every night thinking about you..you should see the mess I make then.” plug!sukuna could barely sate his urges now, hearing how nasty this supposedly innocent girl was for him! He wasted no time slithering his tongue into that aching cunt. Swirling it around on that throbbing clit, spitting into those pretty pink folds and those succulent brown lips encasing them. He feasted like a man unhinged; greedy and selfish as fuck, just like he claimed. You’d grasp a hold of those dark reddish and black locks, grinding yourself into his face. Rubbing his nose in between your slit.

“Mmmph! Ryo…” “Yeah, fuck my face. Don’t hold back now. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

plug!sukuna would eat your pussy until he heard you sobbing and felt that orgasm come barreling out. Your tight hole spasming on air as those juices trickled down his throat, chest and mouth. He couldn’t help but to laugh as he watched you writhe in pleasure. Attempting to push him away as you rode out that orgasm.

“Wha—how did you?—“ “What? I told you..I’ve had a lot of practice.” Choosing to omit the fact that he’d fantasized about you sitting on his face more times than he could count. Tossing you a wink and one final lick before carting you over to the sofa. Where he laid you down gently against the cushions…pinning those legs back whilst hovering over you. The entire time, he couldn’t take his gaze away from those gorgeous eyes..they glimmered so bright. Full of lust, adoration and excitement. No matter how much you smiled, he always sensed a certain emptiness behind them. A light stolen from you and now, he hoped to reignite it.

observing your movements, plug!sukuna began to chuckle when he saw you pawing at his crotch. So eager to unsheathe that hard on from his boxers. He could tell that the shy, bashful demeanor you presented was only a front. If given the opportunity, he could turn you into his personal slut with ease..but for now, he wanted to focus solely on making love to you. Giving you every part of him that he’d long to for months now. You’d examine his chiseled torso, reaching up to caress his abs and trace your fingertips along his various tattoos. But you couldn’t distract yourself from how large that bulge was..protruding and leaking with precum…

“Can I?—“ Go ahead, baby..take it out.” And without hesitation, you’d tug that elastic waistband back and let it spring forth. He was so girthy and long. Clean shaven and although he was erect now, you could tell he was huge even when flaccid. Nonetheless, plug!sukuna grasped those thick thighs of yours and mounted in between them; gliding that aching tip along your folds. ”Now you tell me if it hurts, okay baby? If I see you flinch or look uncomfortable, I’m pulling the fuck out. We clear?” And you knew when he spoke, that was law. Nodding in agreement, you’d consent to his terms as you rubbed your folds, waiting for him.

“Good..and tap my arm if you can’t talk. I’m ‘bout to start moving. You ready?” with your permission, he’d glide in slowly and immediately, he thought he’d seen stars! Plug!sukuna, by his own volition, had been with countless girls. From strippers to models, but never had he felt pussy this tight! The warmth immediately cradling him and not letting go. He’d suck his teeth before muttering a single ‘fuck’ under his breath. You were going to be some pressure, he was certain of it. But he’d continue on, gathering his footing and working that cock into your entrance. A single pop, along with wet, squishing sounds rang out across that living room as you lie underneath him.

“Goddamn…your shit feels incredible, baby. I know you had some good pussy..I can tell just by looking at you.” Forcing a wide, toothy smile on your face. You’d never heard him talk so vulgar but it was the side you’d brought out. He was officially obsessed!

“Yeah? Well I’ve been wanting to give it to for so long..I never thought you’d fuck me..”

“I kept you waiting, huh? I’m sorry..guess it just means we gotta make up for lost time then, huh?”

plug!sukuna was thrilled to know that he’d no longer have to hold back because you were on the same wavelength. You’d have no issues matching his energy..so with that, he���d speed up those thrusts. Pounding you with gentle but well paced strokes. The sound of your thighs and skin slamming together, coupled with the sounds of both your moans, made for a beautiful chorus. Your hands around his neck, scratching at his back; legs around his waist and his muscular arms planted right at your sides. Drilling you just as you’d requested and there was no limits between the two of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee..oh my goodness. I’m gonna come again!”

“You’re so fucking cute..damn..” adoring how you sounded squealing and laughing as you met his thrusts. He couldn’t believe how receptive you were and how it took no time at all for you to open up.

“And you look so pretty taking all this dick for daddy. I can’t stop staring at you.” That deep voice showering you with praise as his thick cock thrashed around your insides. Even though you had always been a bigger girl, he made you feel so dainty and small..like a precious treasure he never wanted to lose. “You deserve this, baby..to get fucked just like this. To be spoiled and get whatever you want. I can put you up..you ain’t ever gotta worry about shit. Not a bill, not rent, your family..I got you, baby. I promise. I love you..” You believed every single word and clung to them with every fiber you had. You’d never had anyone treat you with such grace and care before..and that wasn’t the end. He’d continue doting. Telling you how proud he was of you and how far you'd come. How he admired your strength to get out of your situation…he was in awe. plug!sukuna would continue singing your praises until he looked up and spotted tears coming down your face. He was tempted to stop until you told him that you were just fine. He on the other hand..was struggling to maintain his stamina.

“No no..please don’t stop. You just make me feel so good. No one has ever fucked me like this.”

but that alone seemed to ignite a second wind and in a moment of haste, you’d find yourself flipped over into your stomach with his entire body weight shifted on top of you.

“You mean that, baby?” Those outer fangs of his teeth glistening and mouth slicked with saliva as he began pounding you once more..hands pinned to your back and his frame covering your own. The plumpness of that ass ricocheting off of him as he penetrated those walls. You’d come once again, dripping onto the leather couch and making that aforementioned mess he’d been dying to see. This time, his pace was rougher..less structured and sporadic. He couldn’t help it..he was running on pure fumes, trying to give you the first time experience you deserved. Tugging your head back by those thick curls, plug!sukuna fed you the deeper strokes he could muster until those chocolate eyes rolled back.

“Y-yes! This dick is amazing..”

“Tell me who it belongs to. Who’s this good pussy belong to now?”

“Y-you, daddy. It’s yours! Oh fuck..”

never having uttered such lewd words in your entire life, you reveled in the fact that he had been the one to bring this side out. And now, you were about to bring a side out of him. One far more vulnerable than the public witnessed..one that would beg you to let him come inside of you and cry out your name in sweet ecstasy as he did so. You’d feel those warm seeds pouring into your womb as he came to a halt and you welcomed them. plug!sukuna didn’t hesitate to swaddle you in his arms for kisses and comfort.

“I don’t want this to end..tell me it doesn’t have to, Ryo. Can we be this way forever?”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, baby. I’m not going anywhere.“

and it was a promise he intended to keep. Not just as your neighbor or the guy next door looking over you. But now, as your lover and the man who’d never leave your side.

[franavu]

I think one of the problems with C3 is structural. Matt seems to be wanting to tell a story with themes about Gods, Divinity and Religion, which, great. But if you're going with those themes one of the worldbuilding questions that should at least be thought about is "in a world where the Gods are real, what does that mean for culture, society and community?" and the answer seems to be "it doesn't". It's like the religion parts are worldbuilding-adjacent, like, "I guess they're religious too." And this was fine for the previous campaigns and literally any other story, but for what C3 is doing, it should at least have been minimally addressed.

Part of it was that Matt could have gone in pre-campaign-prep, "For reasons, your character needs to have an opinion on the Gods that is rooted in your background." Something like, "the orphanage that Ashton grew up in was run by Lawbearer people and they came down hard on even minimal rule breaking, which made it a miserable place for a kid like Aston to grow up in, so he's understandably bitter." Or, "of course Chetney prays to the All-Hammer, he's a craftsman, he tries to go to the temple on his holy day, but he hasn't managed it for the last 20 years, and he feels vaguely guilty about it." That would have at least given the PCs some connection to the larger narrative.

It's also that in the whole first arc the Gods weren't relevant unless the BHs specifically needed a priest for something. And themes of religion could have been there from the beginning, which could have connected with the overall Predathos narrative. I think something really interesting could have been done with Jrusar, and worship of the Lawbearer and the Wildmother, and civilization rising from the wilds. It needn't have been particularly invasive, just there in the background, the same way the governmental structure was explained but not particularly relevant for what the BHs were doing there.

And it's such a shame, because Matt is really good with personal faith, and individual interaction with the Gods, but it seems to break down with organized religion. And I don't know if it's a blindspot, or if he was so busy during pre-campaign-prep that he just went with what he had, which, again, would have been perfectly fine for literally any other story, just not this one. It's just that this whole campaign feels like missed opportunities, and the feeling like it could have been so much better. 

(Like, for example, a personal frustration is that the Vasselheim parts could have shown diversity in forms of worship for different parts of Exandria, and diversity in ritual from priests of different Prime Deities, and show that despite their differences they are all working together towards a common goal. Instead in communal situations, we get fantasy-Protestantism, with a sprinkle of fantasy-Catholicism ritual on top. (And don't get me started on the alcohol ban, don't the fruits come from the Wildmother's bounty, grown and harvested under the Dawnfather's aegis? Isn't the All-Hammer the God of all craftsmen, including the vintner and the brewer?) It could have still been a bleak and hard place, just rooted specifically in the religions and Gods of Exandria.)

[meazalykov]

penalty

alexia putellas x gerwnt!reader

summary: the hardest penalty save of your career

warnings: angst

the sun beats down on the pitch as you stand on the line, hands gripping your gloves tight, the leather already damp with sweat. the loudness feels distant, muffled against the pounding of your heart. 

the spanish players are lined up, one by one, their eyes fixed on you, their determination clear. they are the reigning champions of the world, the team everyone expects to dominate and take the bronze like it was a piece of cake. 

however.. you? you are a wall they will not break. no way. 

ann is out on injury, and all eyes are on you now. the weight of the bronze medal match presses against your chest, heavier than any gear you’ve ever worn. you’ve been here before, in games where the odds were stacked against you… this feels different though. this is the olympics. this is spain you are playing against.  

you adjust your stance, crouching low, eyes locked on alexia as she steps up to take the penalty. 

the world seems to shrink and expand all at once as alexia steps up to the penalty spot. the noise of the crowd surrounds you, a deafening roar, but your focus is solely on her. she adjusts the ball carefully, her fingers brushing against it as if ensuring it’s perfectly placed. 

it’s a ritual you know well. how many times have you seen this exact moment play out at barcelona? this time, it’s different.  

this time, you’re not watching from a distance. you’re not on the same team in barcelona, cheering her on as she steps up to deliver. this time, she’s your opponent. the person you’ve built your life with, the person you moved countries for, the person who sees you in ways no one else does… she’s standing just a few feet away, preparing to beat you.  

the score is 1-0 for germany thanks to giulia.. if alexia scores.. it's equalized. its the last few minutes of the match, so your girlfriend needs this in order for the match to be saved for spain. 

alexia’s face is unreadable, her usual calm determination etched into every feature. ale’s eyes, the ones that soften when she’s with you, are now laser-focused, studying you as if you’re just another obstacle in her way. 

you’re trying, desperately, to think of her as just another opponent, another world-class player stepping up to try and break your streak.  

she’s not though.  

she’s alexia. your alexia. your ale. your home.

your mind flashes to the moments you’ve shared over the years. the conversations in the middle of the night where she confided her fears that she would’ve told nobody else, the way she smiled at you after her acl surgery back in 2022, promising she’d come back stronger. the nights you spent curled up together, her head on your chest, her soft breathing the only sound in the room.  

you remember the way she held you when germany crashed out of the world cup last year. when alexia won the world cup, you kept your disappointment away from her for a while. suddenly, it exploded a month after the loss. you were lost too, and felt like you weren’t going to recover from that exit.

at that time, your tears soaking into her shirt as she whispered, "you’ll get another chance, mi amor. when you do, you’ll prove to everyone just how incredible you are."  

this is that chance.  

you try to shake the thoughts away, grounding yourself in the present. alexia takes a few steps back, adjusting her captain's armband. she looks at you again, her gaze steady, and you wonder if she can see the turmoil in your eyes.  

the referee blows the whistle.  

time slows as she starts her approach. you’ve seen this before.. her technique, her precision, the way she always manages to disguise her intentions until the last possible second. she’s a master at it, and you’ve spent years admiring that skill.  

however, you’ve also spent years studying it.  

your instincts take over as she strikes the ball, the familiar snap of her boot against leather echoing in your mind. you dive to your right, your body moving before you fully process the decision. in less than a second, the ball connects with your gloves, the impact jolting through your arms as you push it away.  

the stadium erupts into a cacophony of cheers and groans, but all you can hear is your own breathing, ragged and heavy. 

you’re on your knees, staring at the ball as it rolls harmlessly out of bounds over the goalpost.  

you saved it.  

the weight of what you’ve done crashes down on you as your teammates rush toward you, their voices loud and jubilant, their hands patting your back, pulling you to your feet as everyone not runs onto the pitch for a group hug. 

germany won. 

you smile, nodding at them, but your eyes immediately search for alexia.  

she’s standing at the edge of the penalty area, her hands on her hips, her head tilted slightly downward. ale’s expression is unreadable, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s angry, disappointed, or simply resigned.  

you feel a pang of guilt so sharp it nearly takes your breath away. you knew this moment might come, knew that playing for your country might mean standing in the way of hers, but knowing and experiencing are two entirely different things.  

this was never supposed to happen. not like this.  

you want to run to her, to tell her it’s not personal, that it’s just football. that feels hollow, even in your own mind. how can it not be personal? how can anything between you and alexia not carry the weight of what you mean to each other?  

your teammates pull you into a huddle, their excitement screaming in the air around you, but your focus remains on her. she finally looks up, her eyes meeting yours across the pitch. for a brief second, everything else falls away. 

it’s just the two of you, connected by something unspoken, something stronger than your careers.  

the moment passes, and she turns away, jogging back to her position as aitana and laia pat her on the back, telling her that she did a nice try in catalan.  

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to focus on the bronze medal, the bronze medal you’ve won once that whistle goes off. there’s still time on the clock, two minutes, still work to be done.

germany needs you to stay sharp, to hold the line, to prove that last year’s world cup heartbreak was just a stepping stone.  

the whistle blows after those torturous two minutes– filled with laura and klara keeping the ball away from your side of the field. as take off your gloves after the match ends.. and you’re hugging many of your german teammates. 

however you can’t shake the weight of what just happened. you’ve played against friends before, against teammates, but never against alexia. never against the person who knows you better than anyone, who has seen you at your most vulnerable, who has been your rock through everything.  

you glance at her every chance you get, looking for any sign of how she’s feeling. but alexia is a professional. she doesn’t let her emotions show, not on the pitch. 

still, you can’t help but wonder if this moment, this save, will change things between you.  

no matter how much you try to separate the game from your relationship, you know it’s not that simple. it never is.  

as you push yourself away from the front of the goalpost, shaking the sting out of your hands, you can still see the disbelief in alexia’s eyes from across the pitch, only you could tell. everyone else probably thinks she is exhausted. 

the bronze medal is yours. you smile, you celebrate with your teammates, but something inside you feels hollow. you’ve done your job, you’ve saved your team, and germany has claimed the medal. 

yet, the joy feels distant, like you’re watching it all from a foggy window.  

your mind drifts, always returning to alexia. your girlfriend, your love, the woman you’ve spent years building a life with. you can’t shake the thought… what does she think? how does she feel?  

you play for barcelona, have since 2021.. and catalonia is her heart, her pride. you’ve just done what you never thought you would.. defeated spain, broken their dreams of an olympic medal.  

will your fans still love you? will they understand that you had no choice? and what about alexia?  

will she hate you for this? can she even look at you the same way after you took something so important from her, something she’s worked for her entire life?  

the thought lingers, twisting inside you, even as the team surrounds you, offering their congratulations. it doesn’t feel like a true win. not yet.  

and then, through the crowd, you see someone.  

lena.  

on crutches, her knee still in recovery from surgery, but her smile wide and her eyes filled with warmth. she approaches you, her arms opening wide as she drops her crunches, and you don’t hesitate. you step into her embrace, letting her hold you as if she can somehow take away the weight on your chest.  

you press your face into your best friend's shoulder, needing this moment of comfort more than you expected. obi’s hug feels like the one thing that isn’t tainted by the competition, the one thing that’s still pure, still good.  

lena pulls back slightly, looking you in the eye. 

“you were incredible out there,” she says in german, her voice filled with pride. 

“that save.. everyone will be talking about it for months.”  

you try to muster a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“it’s fine, obi,” you murmur, trying to downplay it.  

lena doesn’t buy it. she knows you too well. 

“you did something selfless, y/n. it wasn’t just a save. you did it against... the love of your life. that’s hard.”  

your throat tightens at her words. you nod, but the reality of what you’ve done starts to hit harder. 

how do you reconcile this? how do you keep your love for alexia intact while also celebrating the victory with your team?  

“it’s fine,” you repeat, but even you can tell it sounds empty.  

lena hesitates, then places a hand on your shoulder, her gaze softening with understanding. “things will be okay. you’ll see.” but the way she says it—so gentle, yet laced with an undercurrent of uncertainty—lets you know that even lena isn’t entirely sure. 

she’s still healing from her own injury, still grappling with what the future holds for her own life, and maybe, just maybe, that same uncertainty is creeping into her words for you too.  

afterwards, you pace the edge of the pitch, your boots scuffing against the grass as you watch the boring scene unfold around you. the crowd is long gone, the cheers and jeers now a distant echo. 

you’re searching for her.  

alexia.  

it’s been over an hour since the final whistle, and you haven’t seen her since. you’ve tried to focus, to join in the celebrations, but your mind keeps pulling you back to her. you know her too well to believe she’s fine.

alexia doesn’t lose easily, especially not like this.  

you spot her, finally, near the edge of the pitch. she’s standing with her arms crossed, her head down, and you feel an overwhelming need to go to her, to make things right, to say something.. anything.. that might ease the weight she must be carrying.  

before you can take more than a step, someone steps in front of you.  

“y/n,” jenni says softly, her hand coming up to rest on your arm. her voice is kind, but her expression is firm.  

“jenni,” you start, your tone pleading, but she shakes her head.  

“you did what you needed to do. the better team won. maybe give her some space,” she suggests, her words careful, but they still hit like a punch to the gut.  

you knew jenni from your time at psg back in 2017. she was the closest person in your life at that time, being your best friend for the one season that she was there for. in fact, she introduced you to alexia back in 2019. she knows you both.

you blink, caught off guard. 

“space?” you repeat, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. 

“jenni, i just... i need to talk to her.”  

jenni hesitates, her gaze flickering toward alexia before settling back on you. again, she’s your best friend, someone who’s seen you through highs and lows, and she knows how much alexia means to you. however, she also knows alexia.  

“it’s not you,” jenni says quickly, her tone softening as she notices the hurt flash across your face. 

“it’s not. she just... she might need a break. from everything. from everyone. she has not said a single word to anyone yet, only comforting salma for a few minutes and thats it.”  

the words sting, even though you know they’re not meant to. 

“ale thinks she let salma and the rest of them down, doesn’t she?” you ask quietly, your voice barely audible.  

jenni sighs, her hand still on your arm as if to steady you. 

“she does. she’s been carrying the weight for years, y/n. you know that. and after everything—her injury, coming back, proving herself again—she’s scared she’s not the same player she used to be.”  

you know that. 

you close your eyes for a moment, the guilt settling in your chest like a stone. you’ve spent years telling alexia she’s still the best, that she would come back stronger, that the injury didn’t define her. now, after tonight, after that save...  

“and now she thinks that penalty proved her fear,” you whisper, the words like ash in your mouth.  

jenni doesn’t respond right away, but the look on her face tells you enough. you open your eyes and glance back at alexia, your heart aching at the sight of her. she’s still standing there, alone, her head bowed as if the weight of the world is pressing down on her.  

you bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to nod. 

“okay,” you say finally, your voice thick. 

“i’ll give her space.”  

jenni looks at you with something like sympathy, squeezing your arm gently. 

“just for now,” she says. 

“she’ll come to you when she’s ready. you know she will.”  

you nod again, but the ache in your chest doesn’t lessen. jenni steps away, leaving you standing there as you watch alexia, your mind racing with everything you want to say but can’t.  

the same alexia who held you when you thought your career was over after germany’s world cup exit. the alexia who told you that you were more than football, that your value wasn’t tied to wins or losses. now, when she needs to hear those same words, you’re the direct reason she’s hurting.  

you stay there a moment longer, the distance between you and alexia feeling wider than it ever has. then, with a heavy heart, you turn and walk away.  

in barcelona four days later, two days after the medal ceremony.. the door to your shared apartment clicks softly as you step inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you. tonight, it feels heavier somehow, as if the air itself is weighed down by everything unsaid between you and alexia.  

neither of you have talked since the morning before the bronze medal match, four and a half days ago. 

you slip off your shoes and place your bag by the door, your movements slow and deliberate, your heart pounding in your chest. you know she’s here. ale’s black car was parked outside, and the faint hum of her favorite playlist drifts through the apartment, almost drowned out by your own thoughts.  

walking down the foyer, you find her in the living room, sitting on the couch with her legs tucked beneath her, a blanket draped over her shoulders. ale’s hair is loose, falling in waves around her face, and her eyes are fixed on the coffee table, where a glass of wine sits untouched.  

“hey,” you say softly, your voice tentative.  

alexia glances up, her eyes meeting yours for a brief second before she looks away. 

“hey,” she murmurs, her tone flat, distant.  

you hesitate in the doorway, unsure whether to move closer or give her more space. the sight of her like this.. quiet, withdrawn, her usual spark dimmed.. twists something deep inside you.  

“i... i didn’t think you’d be home this early,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.  

“didn’t feel like staying out,” she replies, still not looking at you.  

you frown, knowing some of your non-barcelona spanish friends.. jenni for example, all went to party before the club season starts again. 

the silence that follows in the apartment is unbearable, thick with tension and words neither of you knows how to say. you take a cautious step forward, then another, until you’re standing just a few feet away.  

“alexia,” you start, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. 

“can we talk?”  

she exhales deeply, her shoulders slumping under the weight of whatever she’s carrying. 

“about what?” she asks, her tone almost defensive.  

you falter, your hands wringing together as you search for the right words. 

“about... the game. about us. about everything.”  

alexia shakes her head, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. 

“there’s nothing to talk about,” she says quietly, but the crack in her voice betrays her.  

you sink to your knees in front of her, your hands resting on the edge of the couch. “there is,” you insist, your voice breaking. 

“alexia, please. i need to know where we stand. i need to know if...” you trail off, your throat tightening with emotion.  

ale’s eyes finally meet yours, and the sadness in them is almost too much to bear. 

“if what?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.  

“if you’re going to hate me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them away furiously. 

“because i can’t stop thinking about it, alexia. that penalty. i saved it, and it felt like i was taking something from you...”  

alexia’s eyes widen, her expression softening as she realizes the depth of your fear. she leans forward, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “y/n,” she says firmly, her voice steady despite the tears welling up in her own eyes. 

“don’t ever say that. don’t ever think that.”  

you shake your head, the tears spilling over now as you let out a shaky breath. 

“but it’s true. you missed, and spain didn’t get the medal, and now... now i feel like i’ve ruined everything, like i’ve ruined us.”  

ale’s grip on your cheek tightens slightly, grounding you as she speaks. 

“you didn’t ruin anything. yes, i’m upset about the penalty. yes, it hurts to lose like that. but y/n, that has nothing to do with us. i could never hate you. not for that, not for anything.”  

“but—”  

“no,” she interrupts, her voice growing stronger. 

“listen to me. football is not my whole life. it’s not your whole life. we are more than this sport. you are the love of my life, y/n. the one person who has stood by me through everything.. through my injury, my recovery, through what happened with my national team, my fears. i am not losing you over a penalty save, no matter how much it hurts right now.”  

you choke on a sob, leaning into her touch as your tears fall freely. 

“i was so scared,” you admit, your voice breaking. “scared that i’d lose you, scared that you’d resent me.”  

she shakes her head, her own tears slipping down her cheeks as she strokes your skin with her thumb. 

“never,” she says fiercely. “i could never resent you. you did your job, just like i tried to do mine. and if i’m upset, it’s at myself, not you.”  

you let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest lifting ever so slightly as her words sink in. she shifts forward, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into her embrace.  

you bury your face in her neck, clinging to her as if she might disappear. her hands run soothingly up and down your back, her touch gentle but firm, anchoring you in the moment.  

“we’ll get through this,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. 

“we always do.”  

you nod against her, the knot in your chest loosening just a little more. because she’s right. this is just one moment in a lifetime of moments, and no matter how hard it feels now, you know you’ll find your way back to each other.  

“i love you,” you whisper, your voice muffled against her skin.  

“i love you too,” she replies, her voice steady, unwavering. “more than anything.”  

you’re still wrapped up in her embrace when alexia pulls back slightly, her hands lingering on your arms as her eyes search yours. they’re softer now, the weight they carried moments ago easing into something warmer, more familiar.  

“can i see the bronze medal?” she asks suddenly, her voice quiet but sincere.  

you blink, surprised by the question. 

“the medal?”  

she nods, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. 

“yes. you’ve earned it, and i want to see it.”  

you hesitate for a moment, unsure. there’s still a part of you that feels like showing her might be rubbing salt into a wound, like it might remind her of the loss instead of the victory. but the way she’s looking at you, with such genuine curiosity and care, gives you the courage to stand up and retrieve it from your bag.  

as you pull the medal out, the bronze glinting under the soft light of your apartment, you can’t help but feel a flicker of pride. not just for yourself, but for germany, for what you all accomplished together.  

you hold it out to her, the ribbon dangling from your fingers, and alexia reaches for it with delicate hands. she takes the medal, turning it over in her fingers, studying it as if it’s a priceless artifact.  

“it’s beautiful,” she murmurs, her thumb tracing the embossed lettering on the front. ale’s expression shifts, and when she looks up at you, her eyes are filled with something you can’t quite place.. pride, admiration, and maybe even a touch of awe.  

“you did this,” she says softly. 

“you brought this home for germany. after everything... after the world cup... you gave them this.”  

ale’s words hit you like a wave, washing over the lingering doubts and guilt that have been sitting heavy in your chest. you swallow hard, trying to keep your emotions in check.  

“i just... i wanted to do something for my team since ann couldn’t play,” you say quietly. 

“something to show that we’ve grown, that we’re not the same team that fell apart last year.”  

alexia smiles, and it’s small, but it’s real. 

“and you did. you gave those women something to believe in again.”  

you study her face, looking for any sign of lingering hurt or resentment, but all you see is her..the woman who has always stood by your side, who has always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.  

“you’re really okay with this?” you ask, your voice hesitant.  

she nods, holding the medal out to you. 

“of course i’m hurt, y/n. but that doesn’t mean i’m not happy for you and for your team. you deserved this moment. your team deserved it.”  

you take the medal from her, your fingers brushing hers, and the warmth of her touch grounds you.  

“i’m proud of you,” she continues, her voice steady, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“not just for the save, but for everything. for the way you carry yourself, for the way you fight for your team. and for the way you’ve always fought for me, too.”  

ale’s  words bring fresh tears to your eyes, but this time, they’re not from fear or guilt. they’re from love, from relief, from the overwhelming realization that no medal, no match, no save could ever come between you and her.  

you step closer, wrapping your arms around her again, the medal clinking softly between you. 

“thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.  

she rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands rubbing gentle circles on your back. “i mean it,” she murmurs. 

“this doesn’t change us. football is just a part of our lives. you are my life, y/n.”  

you close your eyes, letting her words sink in, letting them soothe the raw edges of your heart. 

masterlist

[riddlesrose]

the small things he does

w/ idia, riddle, leona, floyd, cater & azul

cw; none :p

idia has a habit of grabbing onto your hand when he gets nervous. he'll instinctually reach for it when there's a large group of people he really doesn't want to get caught up in, or when you finally convince him that he should be attending more classes in person; he'll sit next to you and trace shapes and words into the back of your hand, hidden by the desks.

riddle leaves small notes in your textbooks, small pick-me-ups to 'help' you keep studying, though he knows you're okay without him. he leaves the small notes between pages, you notice there's usually two per chapter. since he knows you don't need the help, he turns to leaving small sentences of affirmation or endearment. his face turns bright red if you bring it up to him, he denies it all but he's the only one you usually study with. (therefore, the only one with access to your unattended textbooks..)

leona unintentionally wraps his tail around one of your limbs, whether it's around your arms or tickling the skin of your leg, it's there. even if he's not sleeping it'll snake it's way around you, he claims his tail has a mind of its own- that he doesn't do it on purpose, but you know he does and that it lets him relax, knowing you're there.

floyd's bottom lip juts out when you go to leave the lounge or his room, he pouts like a child that's been denied a toy at the store. he really enjoys your company, how you listen to him with no complaints, he could simply steal you away forever. his shrimpy, no one else's.

cater has a whole lot of candid photos of you, he loooves the ones where you're gazing gently at the roses, or helping someone out. he can't get over the softness in your eyes, or the way your smile is so genuine, though it's never forced when you're with him, it's just a different kind of genuine. no matter, he loves it (and you) regardless.

azul will take time when there's a surplus amount of change in the lounge and sort through it- claiming he's just counting it- looking for coins with interesting designs on them. he'll show you, hoping you share the same interest in the coins that he does. if you do, and possibly think it's cooler than he does, he'll slip it off to the side, eventually placing it into your palm, and ushering you out, back to your dorm for the night.

masterlist

[uniquesmalltreasures]

Not to discredit the excellent advice above - it derails from what the OP was saying in the first place.

Because no, I feel that what @scarlet-letter-s-for-soft so beautifully described is not what the OP was describing: a manipulative tactic.

See, all of the situations above come from a place of kindness and understanding: you need to communicate with people you form relationships with, you need to put effort, though how that communication works and how much of that effort will be put in is different for different people. You need to look at the attachment styles and figure out the needs of others and work on that.

And then you have people, who will not do that. But they will give you beautiful promises and when you do meet with them you will receive attention and love or friendship or intimacy that you will treasure. And that feeling of being precious to them will keep you with them, on their orbit, without realising that none of the promises were kept. That your requests for another meeting were negotiated to suit them or were discarded. That your needs are getting neglected. But the beautiful words are still there:

“I love talking with you and can’t wait to see you again”, just without a follow-up meeting. So if you can’t wait, but do not propose a meeting, what should I get from that? It’s an empty but pretty promise.

“I do not like putting labels, but you know how important you are to me”, no if I was important you would at least talk about my needs - and in this instance the need to define our relationship.

“I am just so busy, with work and all that is going on right now, you know? I will let you know when my schedule opens”, but if it does not, unless you start pulling back and they need to hook you up again.

The father described above is not the father that does nothing and leaves their kid, without paying child support and then re-enters their life when he needs to borrow money. The friends that get busy in life or need a me-time will still be there for you when you need it even if it’s once a year or if they drop you a message or show how they think of you in a different way. It is not the same as when someone wants to manipulate you in liking them but without giving anything back - just words, or sometimes extra attention so you will stay hooked.

I am not a psychologist, and I know shit about attachments styles etc. But I know manipulation and negotiations for compromises are not the same thing.

So normalise someone’s lack of effort as their lack of commitment to you, lack of interest and drop that person if their effort ends with words and they give you some follow-up action only when it’s convenient to them, not necessarily to you. When they only take and never give.

Or sometimes, even if they gave you something, pay attention. Check how you would feel if someone was treating your loved ones in the same manner. Make sure it is not screwing you over or worse, screwing with your other relationships.

Letting go of people is also a skill and it is not easy. But sometimes that is needed for your own well-being. If you are kind to others, be also kind to yourself. Know when someone is only offering you sweet talking, and no action that follows the words.

Normalize seeing someone's lack of effort as their lack of interest in you regardless of what they tell you. Giving you all of the right words, but none of the right actions is called manipulation. If a person wants to be with you, they prove it. Period.

[thewizardingpost]

When the Finch Tries to Shout

poly!marauders x fem!reader

note ⌇ the Marauders’ playful teasing about your quietness makes you insecure, leading you to try becoming more extroverted and loud. warnings ⌇word count  3.2k, established relationship, misunderstanding, shy/introverted!reader, hurt/comfort, r feels insecure, r’s Hogwarts house is unstated

You sit in the dining hall alongside them. It’s the weekend, a time when the dining hall was a place to hangout, study, or wait a few hours until you had to leave for your train ride. They’re chatting amongst themselves while you listen and observe, occasionally adding a comment or two. All was well, this was how the dynamic between the four of you played out.

It was a good dynamic. With James being the most extroverted, then Sirius, then Remus–and then you. You all respected each other’s personalities, learning how to shift your day around one another’s social battery. You all also tend to comment on each other’s personalities, making jokes and teasing one another. It’s lighthearted, laced with an intent to bring a smile to your face.

But today? It felt different.

As they continued to joke around, something in the air seemed to shift. The teasing, which usually made you smile, felt sharper than usual, like a little poke at your ribs that didn’t feel playful anymore. Sirius was in the middle of a story, gesturing wildly with his hands as he talked, and then his eyes flicked over to you with a mischievous grin.

“Oi, Finch,” he said with a wink, “You know, if you smiled more often, you wouldn’t look like you’ve got your own personal mystery going on. You’re like a bloody riddle wrapped in a frown.”

The words were meant to be playful, but they stung more than they should have. You blinked, forcing a smile that didn’t quite feel genuine. The teasing used to make you laugh, but now it just made you feel... small. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly aware of how your quietness seemed to fill the space in a way that wasn’t as welcome as it used to be.

James, picking up on the slight shift in your mood–though not fully understanding it– leaned forward with a grin. “What’s the matter, love? You’ve gone all quiet on us. Don’t tell me you’ve gone shy again.”

You swallowed, the lump in your throat feeling heavier than usual. The comment was meant to lighten the mood, but instead, it felt like an expectation. Like your silence wasn’t something they were used to anymore—like it was something they were beginning to outgrow.

You didn’t respond right away, letting the words hang in the air. The silence stretched between you all, but it felt different this time. You weren’t sure if it was your own insecurities talking, or if their teasing really had changed, but it left you with a sense of unease. Maybe they didn’t mean to hurt you, but... maybe they were tired of you being quiet.

Nevertheless you gave them a smile and the night went on. 

The words lingered in your mind long after you’d returned to your dorm. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, overthinking every little moment. Have they outgrown your quietness? Did they secretly wish you were louder, more energetic, more like them? A knot twisted in your stomach, your heart growing heavier the more you thought about it.

Your quietness had never bothered you before. It was simply who you were. But now? Now it felt like it was something you had to change, something you had to fix. You rolled over onto your side, pulling the blanket closer around you, but the ache in your chest didn’t go away. You could almost hear their voices in your head again, the teasing that used to be so playful now feeling like a subtle jab at your identity. Maybe they didn’t mean it, but maybe that didn’t matter. It hurt all the same.

By the time the morning light filtered through the windows, you’d made up your mind. You didn’t want to disappoint them. You didn’t want to be the quiet one anymore.

The next morning, when you greeted them, you were all smiles. You waved enthusiastically, laughing at jokes that didn’t quite land as hard as they used to. You talked—a lot. Far more than you usually would, your words tumbling out, faster than you could stop them. You were cheerful, a little too cheerful, acting like everything was just fine. But inside, your heart was burning. You were doing it. You were being louder. You were being more open.

You noticed James raise an eyebrow at your sudden burst of energy, and Sirius gave you a curious glance. But Remus? Remus was the one who watched you closely, his gaze a little too gentle, a little too knowing.

You kept talking, though. You had to. The more you talked, the less time you had to think about it. And the more you smiled, the more you could pretend everything was fine. You could, you could try to pretend it was all fine. 

You all wandered through Hogsmeade, the chilly winter air nipping at your cheeks as you led the way. Your steps were light, your voice a little too loud, a little too eager, but you couldn’t stop. You had to keep the act up. You had to keep the energy high, even if it felt like it was slowly draining you from the inside out.

James and Sirius were leading the pack, as usual, their laughter echoing through the streets as they spotted a new magical gadget in one of the nearby shops. They’d be distracted for a while, no doubt. Meanwhile, you found yourself pulling Remus along, a wide grin plastered on your face.

"Oh, look at that!" You pointed to a shop window, bouncing on your toes. "We should go in here, I heard their chocolate frogs have a special edition!" You kept the chatter going, trying to fill the space with noise, hoping the others wouldn’t notice how loud you were talking.

Remus, however, was quiet, his usual calm presence hovering at your side as the others got farther ahead. You could feel his gaze on you, the gentle pressure of his quiet observation weighing on you. After a beat, he leaned toward you, his voice barely audible over the noise of the bustling village.

"You know, you don’t have to do this. We love you as you are, dove." His tone was soft, concerned, his words carrying a quiet weight you weren’t ready to hear.

You laughed a little too loudly, trying to mask the sudden rush of nervous energy that had flooded your chest. "Whatever do you mean?" You flashed him a smile that felt like a mask, wide and bright but not quite reaching your eyes. "I’m just excited, that’s all! Isn’t it a great day?"

You kept walking, forcing the words to tumble out, your gaze darting from one shop to the next, looking anywhere but at him. Remus didn’t move, though. He kept pace beside you, his hand casually brushing against yours as if offering comfort, but you weren’t sure if you could let him in just yet. Not with the way your heart was pounding, the way you were desperately trying to fill the space with something—anything—to make it seem like you were okay.

Remus sighed quietly, but you didn’t give him a chance to say anything more. "I’ve been here before, you know," you added, forcing a playful tone, "Hogsmeade’s not exactly new to me." You laughed again, the sound coming out more hollow than you intended. "I think I’m getting pretty good at this tour guide thing, don’t you?"

Remus didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his eyes lingered on you, soft and knowing. He wasn’t fooled by your act. But still, he didn’t push, just walked silently by your side, letting the others enjoy their candy-filled distractions.

You could hear James and Sirius in the distance, their voices rising as they discovered some new magical candy that they were already arguing over. But despite the noise around you, it felt like there was a quiet tension between you and Remus that hadn’t been there before. The pressure of trying to be something you weren’t... trying to be someone else.

You told yourself you could handle it. You could keep the smile up, but you’re not sure how much longer. How long could you keep it up? How long should you? Until they’ve accepted you as being ‘one of them?’

The Gryffindor common room was full of life, laughter spilling out from every corner. The fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth, and students were sprawled out on couches, some chatting about the latest gossip, others buried in their books or playing games. You, of course, were doing your best to engage, even though your social battery was drained beyond belief. The effort of keeping up with everything was wearing on you, but you didn’t want to seem like the odd one out. You didn’t want to be the quiet one in the corner, especially with your partners—James, Sirius, and Remus—sitting nearby.

They were laughing and teasing each other, as usual, their energy contagious. James and Sirius were as loud and energetic as always, while Remus sat back, watching, offering quiet commentary here and there. You found comfort in their presence, even if it made you more acutely aware of your own lack of energy.

Your attempts to match their enthusiasm were wearing thin. Every time you laughed a little too loudly or tried to jump into the conversation, it felt forced. You could feel the weight of exhaustion creeping in, but you shoved it aside, determined to keep up the appearance of being just as talkative, just as carefree. You didn’t want them to think you were being distant or boring.

As you sat with the group, chatting with a couple of Gryffindor girls you had started to bond with, the conversation turned to teasing—just lighthearted fun, nothing new. But when one of the girls, Iris, leaned in with a mischievous grin, you had no idea that it was about to spiral.

“Alright, Finch,” Iris said, nudging you with her elbow, “I dare you to ask one of your boyfriends a question. Something... interesting.”

Your eyes widened as the attention of the group immediately shifted to you. You knew she meant well, but your heart raced at the thought. James, Sirius, and Remus were right there, their attention now on you, waiting for your response. You didn’t want to be shy or boring in front of them—especially when they were all so full of life. You had to keep up the act.

“Come on, you’ve been so chatty tonight,” Iris pressed, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Ask something… interesting.”

You glanced at the Marauders. James and Sirius were grinning, egging you on, clearly amused by the dare-like request. Remus, always the more reserved one, watched you with a small smile, but there was an unreadable expression in his eyes.

You had to do this. You couldn’t back down now. If you did, it would look like you were too quiet, too shy, too... boring. You had to show them that you were capable of this, that you could play along.

Without thinking too much, you stood up, trying to look casual as you walked over to where James was lounging on the couch, his usual grin plastered on his face. Sirius leaned against the wall nearby, watching you curiously.

“Alright,” you said, the words coming out a little louder than intended. You tried to smile, but it felt tight. “James, if you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

James blinked, clearly surprised by the question. He looked at you for a moment, then broke into laughter.

“What kind of question is that?” He chuckled, leaning back against the armrest. “I don’t know, I’d probably go with butterbeer or something stupid like that.”

The group laughed along with him, but there was an awkwardness in the air. You forced a chuckle, hoping it didn’t show that you were feeling a little embarrassed by the whole thing. It wasn’t a bad question—it just wasn’t the one you had intended to ask. You were trying to be funny, trying to fit in, but it felt like the whole room was watching, and you could feel every eye on you, waiting for the punchline, waiting for you to get it right. 

You smiled again, though it didn’t feel as genuine this time. The laughter faded quickly, and you could sense the shift in the atmosphere. It wasn’t that they were laughing at you, but the attention felt uncomfortable now. You had forced the moment, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d made it weird.

You glanced at Remus, hoping for a familiar, comforting smile—but all you saw was a concerned look on his face. He wasn’t laughing like James and Sirius were. He was watching you, his brow furrowed just slightly, as though he was trying to figure something out.

“You okay, love?” he asked softly, but the words felt too loud, too much in the quiet that had fallen around you.

You cleared your throat and nodded quickly, but your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine..” You laughed, but it was full of exhaustion. You could feel the walls of the common room closing in on you, the weight of everyone’s attention suddenly too much to bear.

Before anyone could say anything else, you turned away and walked briskly toward the door, your pulse racing. The chatter around you faded into background noise as your mind spiraled.

James called after you, but you didn’t stop. Sirius’s voice followed, but it was distant now, as you pushed through the door and into the hallway. You needed air. You needed to be alone. You had to escape the eyes, the whispers. The room had been too much, everything was too much. 

You didn’t hear Remus’s footsteps behind you until they were just a few paces away. You could feel him catching up, but you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t face him now—not when your chest felt like it was going to burst.

“Finch, wait.” His voice was soft, but firm.

You didn’t look back, your eyes fixed ahead as you continued walking, your breath shaky. You tried to ignore the burn in your throat, the tightness in your chest. You couldn’t hold up the act anymore. You couldn’t pretend to be someone you weren’t.

But you heard him behind you, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

“You don’t have to keep pretending,” Remus said quietly, his voice full of concern. “You don’t have to act extroverted if it’s not you. We love you the way you are.”

You froze. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart ache. You didn’t want them to see you this way—weak, insecure, struggling to fit into a mold that didn’t suit you.

But Remus was right. You didn’t need to prove anything.

You turned to face him, your smile forced once more. “I know. I’m fine.”

But the words didn’t sound convincing, even to yourself. Remus didn’t buy it. He took a step closer, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

“But you’re not. Finch, it’s okay to be quiet. It’s okay to not always be the loud one. We love you just the way you are.”

You bit your lip, and a tear threatened to spill, but you quickly blinked it away. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that until now. You were trying so hard to keep up, but they loved you quiet, too.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Remus offered a small, reassuring smile.

“Let’s get you back to the dorm,” he said softly. “You don’t need to keep up the silly little act anymore.”

You nodded, allowing him to lead you back toward the warmth of the common room, hoping that you could start to relax, even if just a little bit. As you walked side by side, the exhaustion of the night started to catch up with you, the effort to be someone you weren’t suddenly feeling pointless. You had been trying to be louder, more outgoing, all because you thought the teasing about being quiet and shy meant you weren’t enough. You had overthought it, convinced yourself that your quietness was something to change. Then Remus’s words, his understanding, grounded you yet again. 

When you reached the door to the dorm, James and Sirius appeared in the hallway, glancing between the two of you. They didn’t need to say anything right away—just their presence made you feel a little lighter.

James broke the silence, his usual grin replaced by something more serious, softer. “Everything okay?”

Sirius, too, was watching you, his arms crossed but his expression warm, full of concern. You offered them both a small, honest smile.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just needed a minute.” You didn’t want to hide it, the fact that you’d been struggling all night, trying to act like someone you weren’t. You couldn’t hold the facade anymore.

James’s eyes softened, and he gave you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “You know you don’t have to act different around us, right? We love you as you are. Quiet or loud, doesn’t matter.”

Sirius nodded, his voice carrying the usual teasing edge but with sincerity underneath. “Exactly. We’re not expecting you to be loud to make us like you. You don’t have to be anything other than you.”

Your chest tightened, but it was in a good way, like a weight was lifting. The insecurity that had been gnawing at you all night, the thought that you had to be louder to belong—finally started to fade. You hadn’t realized how deeply it had affected you until now. The teasing, the joking about your quietness... it made you feel like you weren’t enough. You’d overthought it, thinking your silence was something to fix, something that would push them away.

But standing here with the three of them, their words washing over you, you knew they meant it. You didn’t need to pretend to be anything else.

You looked up at them, the weight on your shoulders finally easing.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice steady now. “I just... I kept thinking that because I was quieter, I wasn’t enough.”

Remus gave you a soft smile, one full of understanding. James grinned at you, ruffling your hair in that familiar, affectionate way. Sirius, ever the mischief-maker, leaned in with a wink.

“Well, we love you the way you are, Finch,” Sirius said, teasing but gentle. “You’re not boring, not by a long shot. You don’t need to be loud to make us like you.”

James nodded in agreement. “You’re perfect just as you are. So no more pretending. We’ve got you, yeah love?”You felt your chest finally release the breath it had been holding. You didn’t need to prove anything. You didn’t need to be louder, or more outgoing. The way you were—quiet, thoughtful, and you—was enough. They loved you exactly as you were, and that was all that mattered.

[corviiids]

hello thank you for asking i am very flattered. i would be most honoured to give some advice that i am most certainly unqualified to give!!

ok advice 1: hey why does everyone keep telling me to read and write a lot

i think this is the most commonly given advice. i have always found it true but incomplete, because on the face of it this kind of focuses a little too much on volume. which by itself just isn't going to do that much for you, or it will, but it'll do it very slowly and ineffectively, because the second part of this advice i don't see nearly as much (and the part that makes it work for me) is that after you read or write something you need to do The Why Interrogation. what are you looking for?

when you like something, why do you like it? not just in terms of copying and learning an author's stylistic quirks or techniques, but in a more abstract way:

is it the narrative? that the premise is novel, that the progression of the story is unexpected and thrilling, that the stakes are high?

is it the characters? what is it about them? do they have compelling backgrounds? does the author spend a lot of time in their heads? is the pov internal in a way that lets you experience the story from their shoes? does their biased narration tell you more about them? or is it a detached narration that lets you see the characters in a way they don't see themselves, so the gap is intriguing?

is it the telling? maybe the prose is beautiful - what makes it so? sentence structure? unconventional use of grammar and punctuation? elegant, sophisticated vocabulary? or maybe the dialogue is sharp and human so conversation flows naturally. is the story paced carefully? does the author linger more in certain moments?

the same exercise is useful for what ISN'T working.

if your attention is drifting, what's making it drift?

purple prose? clumsy prose?

does the narration drag?

do the characters feel stagnant, and why?

plot doesn't make any sense?

maybe this sounds obvious, but imo it's a crucial piece of the advice that i just don't see as much because people tend to focus on volume of works consumed/created. the reflection and analysis is what makes that volume useful, otherwise you're just churning through content. the question should always be why, why, why. why did that work, why didn't it work, why did i like this, why does it suck. then proceed to: if i were doing this, how could i make it work?

advice 2: don't forget that all the words you need already exist.

this is more subjective advice. this is something that works for me personally. so ymmv. have you ever tried magnet poetry? you should try magnet poetry.

i always see writing as kind of a puzzle. if i have an idea in my head, the idea exists. the job is actually a translation exercise: how do i express the thing in my head as a thing other people can see? in this way it's like visual art, but it's also not like visual art at all. in visual art you choose where all the lines and colours go, completely freely. any line you draw is a brand new line.

in language, all your parts already exist. all the words already exist. (you can make new ones if you want but that's a whole different thing.) you are plucking symbols out of a collective understanding. it is like lego. all you are doing is selecting the most effective pieces and placing them in order. so for me, i am simply trying to find the 'right' words to fit each context as best as possible. it becomes a game of arrangement, which determines your expression.

then syntax and punctuation become your rhythm, which is how you determine flow. sentence length, word length, whether you omit words or use more, whether you want to be a bit unconventional. character also plays into this - i am not writing an advice 3 because i am getting self conscious but advice 3 would have been consistency of voice.

so i would prioritise vocabulary and timing. what are you trying to say (which words do you pick) and how do you want the reader to experience your words, how do you want the words to feel and sound (how will you pace your sentences)? remembering that all the parts are already there. it is the world's biggest game of magnet poetry.

advice 3 which doesn't exist: keep your voice consistent.

this advice doesn't exist. im not writing this i got embarrassed and stopped at 2. but if i did write this it would say, remember who you are. (remember who is writing your story. are you a character or are you god? remember how much you know. remember which feelings you have access to.)

[darlinluxx]

𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

request from : @erika-mon2-blog “Hi sweetie! I saw that you were accepting requests for Saebyeok, and I would love to ask you for one. I recently came across your profile and I'm in love with it! I'd love something along the lines of a sweet and clingy *reader* and a cold and unaffected Saebyeok; I know it's not a specific request, but I just want to see Saebyeok fighting against his cold attitude to please his favorite person. 😭🩷”

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : none

summary : you and saebyeok are complete opposites. i guess it’s true what they say : opposites attract

a/n : thank u sm <33 i literally just finished this fic as you sent me this lmao perfect timing !!

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he chipped paint of your apartment wall is the same shade as the chipped paint of the subway station Saebyeok seems to gravitate towards. except here, in your little corner of Seoul, there’s a soft blanket draped over the worn couch, the aroma of jasmine tea lingering in the air, and the sunlight spills in, warm and inviting. the subway station? it’s cold, concrete, and constantly echoing with the anxieties of the city.

you hum softly, arranging the hydrangeas in a vase until they’re just so — a perfect, delicate dance of blue and purple. Saebyeok, on the other hand, isn’t about delicate dances. she’s more cold and quiet storms. and yet, somehow, you’ve found yourselves woven together.

you hear her before you see her. the jingle of the keys she pulls from her pocket, a small, almost involuntary noise that always makes your heart flutter. she’s in the doorway, silhouette framed against the hallway light, a stark contrast to the soft glow of your living room.

“hey.” she says, her voice low and a little rough, like gravel being shifted beneath the tide. she doesn’t look at you directly, her gaze fixed on the floor, her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her dark green jacket. it’s a gesture you’ve come to know well: the guarded posture of someone who’s used to fending for themselves.

“hi,” you say, your smile immediate and genuine. you leave the hydrangeas, walking over to her and pulling her in for a hug. your hands brush against the cold fabric of her jacket, a reminder of the world she moves through — a world so different from the one you curate within these four walls.

she stiffens for a moment, unused to the physical expression of affection, before relaxing, her breath ghosting against your neck. it’s a small victory, something you treasure.

“anything good happen today?” you ask, your voice light even though you suspect the answer might be in the negative. you know about the struggles; the constant search for her family, the need to survive. but you believe in offering her a soft place to land.

Saebyeok shrugs, a slight lift of her shoulders. “the same.” she says, which could mean anything, or nothing at all. you don’t press her. you know she’ll tell you when she’s ready, in her own time, in her own way.

instead, you lead her to the couch, tucking a soft blanket around her shoulders. you bring her the tea, the steam swirling around your face, a faint wisp of comfort in the stillness of the room.

“how was your day?” she asks, her eyes finally lifting to meet yours. you told her about your day. Saebyeok listens, her gaze intense as if she’s trying to decipher a complex puzzle. you suspect it is that for her; all the vibrant color, the soft petals, the open displays of merriment — it’s a foreign landscape.

she doesn’t comment much, but you can feel her presence, hear the subtle shift in her body as she adjusts on the couch, moving closer to you. in her quiet way, she’s here, present, with you.

later, as you’re both curled up on the couch, a book of poetry open in your lap, you lean against Saebyeok, your head resting on her shoulder. she runs her fingers through your hair, a habit she’s developed, a small gesture of intimacy.

you, with your bright colors and gentle nature, and Saebyeok, with her shadows and guarded heart, are an unlikely pair. but here, in this small apartment surrounded by soft light and the scent of jasmine, you understand why this works. you are her anchor, the bright spot in her storm. and she, well, she is the grounding force that keeps you from floating too far away, reminding you that there’s a strength in silence, in resilience, in surviving even the harshest of storms. and in this quiet intimacy, you know, with absolute certainty, that this love, two different worlds colliding, is exactly what you both need.

[stevishabitat]

In some cases people took things like bread or pies to a communal oven to bake.

You know that old patty cake rhyme, where you "mark it with a B"? That's because you're taking your cake to the neighborhood ovens to bake with all the neighbours and you mark it with a letter or design so you know it's yours.

You might have a small stove or fire pit in your home for heating water (depending on the type of dwelling), but a baking oven wasn't something everyone would have.

So you'd go to the communal kitchen and prep foods for the week. Some bread, some grab & go hand pies, a big pot of porridge that you'd eat hot today and cold tomorrow (or nine days old as another old rhyme indicates).

Or, you'd just buy pre-made foods as needed - often sold from these same communal kitchens/bakeries.

Kind of like going to a laundromat where you have the option to either stay and wash your own laundry for a small fee, or drop it off and pick it up later for a larger fee. (which was ALSO absolutely a thing in many times and places historically - laundry services aren't older than dirt, but they're pretty old)

Historically, if you're living in a tenement situation, there may either be a communal kitchen for tenants to use, or the landlord would provide a cook (often his wife, daughter or other female relative, or hire one in if he's wealthy enough) who would prepare meals either eaten communally or picked up and taken to your room to eat, which would be included in your rent (room and board - board meaning meals on the dining board/dining table).

The way people have gotten and prepared food throughout different places and times historically is far more varied than we often credit it.

The situation of one woman in each household cooking three meals a day at home for just her immediate family is far more limited than people often realize. And there's a certain level of affluence and independence that it implies that just didn't exist in most times and places and levels of society.

Even if you think about where an idealized version of it exists in, say "Little House on the Prairie".... Homesteaders that lived isolated in a small nuclear family and had to be extraordinarily self-reliant. Even there, it was clear that families that did this were outliers and it was HARD. Even people in the pioneer towns were more interdependent than the people who were way out there.

The other place you think of when it comes to the idea of one person preparing three meals a day in the home for only a nuclear family is post-WW2 USA. And for the most part that concept is entirely artificial.

It was constructed to try to make sense of a society coming off the Depression and wars and the various changes and upheavals of all of that. And not only were just a small percentage of households able to even attempt it, but it was incredibly unhealthy for a large number who tried. It was a manufactured ideal that was generally unobtainable and unsustainable.

Trying to replicate that level of self-reliance as some kind of ideal in modern situations is just bonkers if you ask me.

For those who have overactive guilt complexes like me…

[acesandocs]

A while ago Calamity told me they headcannon Joey as being of Norwegian decent and I wholeheartedly approve. So here’s Ace helping Joey get into his bunad.

Putting on a sølje is easier when someone else does it for you and its a neat way to have Åse and Joey interact. It ended up looking kinda domestic so now the discord server is down with ÅsexJoey lol, sure why not.

Heres a link to the first post i made about what a bunad and a fest drakt is. if anyone wants to read about it but all you need to know is they're for the most part different things and Ace's outfit is a festrdrak and Joey's is technically a bunad.

on Joeys outfit:

According to Calamity: ‘’I imagine his parents immigrated to the US with his grandparents when they were still young and then met in the US through community’’ which could probably put the time they emigrated around the middle of the 1800s. The modern idea of bunads didn't start appearing until the start of the 1900s and kept developing from there. So most likely his family wouldn't have any bunads to pass down, but maybe some clothes that could be put together to make a bunad.

So I based Joey's on the Oslo 1892 bunad. (Its almost the exact same except for the number of buttons) which was invented post 2010s but was based on fashion from the wealthy in 1890s. Considering the hypothetical time line of when Joey’s family emigrated the suit jacket and vest probably didn't come with them from Norway but the knit socks, søljes and pants could.

The silver jewelry on his neck is called a sølje, i gave him two different types. One is based on the sølje that usually comes with the Oslo 1892 but with a few artistic liberties. The second is a heart sølje that looked like a heart with either a crown or two birds facing each other above it. It was used all over the country but some places more than others like the more southern parts of the country. It was also often a gift given to a lover, maybe it was something one of his grandparents gave to the other.

on Ace's outfit:

I have already designed a fest drakt/bunad for Ace and in that post I mentioned I couldn't find an outfit from the area to base it one so I took some innspo from the Telmark bunad instead because of the color and embroidery that I felt matched Ace’s personality. I did eventually stumble upon a bunad from the are Ace grew up in. The Toten bunad, so I redesigned her Fest drakt based on it. Its not a one to one copy so its technically still a festdrakt.

I still got to add some embroydery but instead its svartsøm on the shirt (or whats supposed to be a simplified representation of it). The apron and band around the waist are woven in a style called tavlebragd which gives it that geometric pattern.

I also gave Ace a headband this time around since her hair is to short to braid when she’s older. So now she still has something going on with her hair. Its just a normal green hair band. Would have added embroidery to it if her design wasn't getting a bit cluttered with all the patterns.

I could explain away the difference in Åse’s festdrakt by saying her old one got lost when they emigrated but idk. I might come back to it and design a new one for her younger self at some point.

As mentioned in the first post im not a clothing historian so some of this might be wrong. I tried simplifying some of th patterns on aces outfit so theyd be easie to redraw so they might not be 100% accurate. I know I also could have just designed a new outfit for joey like I did with ace instead oif basing his on a bunad that wasn't even invented before the 2000s but it takes a lot of energy and research and I’m tired.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Underneath It All

Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader

AU: CEO!John Price x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, secret pining, office romance

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! This CEO AU has been stuck in my head for days, and I couldn’t resist writing it. Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Your morning started the same way it always did: stepping into the gleaming glass doors of Price Industries, coffee in hand, and your nerves wound tight. As John Price’s personal assistant, you knew every day would be a marathon of meetings, calls, and last-minute changes. But none of that compared to the hardest part of your job—keeping your feelings for your boss in check.

John Price wasn’t just any CEO. He was the CEO. Sharp suits, a commanding voice, and an air of quiet confidence that made everyone sit up a little straighter. But beneath all that, he was kind, attentive, and unexpectedly warm, especially with you.

Every soft smile he sent your way, every casual “Morning, love” made your heart skip a beat. You had to remind yourself daily that it didn’t mean anything. He was your boss, and you were just his assistant. That was it.

“Good morning, Mr. Price,” you greeted as you stepped into his office, placing his coffee on the edge of his desk.

He glanced up from his laptop, his brow furrowed in thought. But the moment his eyes met yours, his expression softened. “Morning, love.”

Your stomach flipped, but you pushed the feeling aside, holding out the folder in your hand. “Your meeting with the board is at ten. Everything you need is in here.”

He reached for the coffee first, taking a sip before setting it down. “Efficient as ever. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your lips twitched into a small smile. “Fall apart, probably.”

His low chuckle filled the room. “Probably.”

---

By mid-afternoon, you were juggling phone calls, rescheduling meetings, and sorting through contracts when John emerged from his office. His tie was loosened, and the faintest shadow of frustration lingered in his expression.

“Lunch?” you asked, holding up a bag from the deli down the street.

He paused mid-step, his frown easing. “You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

“Part of the job,” you teased lightly, handing him the bag.

Instead of retreating to his office, he sat at the small table near your desk and gestured for you to join him. You hesitated before sitting across from him, pulling out your own lunch.

“How was the meeting?” you asked, unwrapping your sandwich.

“Bloody useless,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Half of them don’t know what they’re talking about, and the other half just want to argue for the sake of it.”

You laughed softly, the sound pulling a small smile from him. “Well, at least you’ve got a good sandwich to make up for it.”

He raised a brow, smirking. “Are you always this optimistic, or is it just to keep me from losing my mind?”

“A little of both,” you admitted, earning another chuckle from him.

For a moment, the conversation drifted into a comfortable silence. You couldn’t help but admire how different he seemed in these moments—relaxed, almost vulnerable. It made it even harder to keep your feelings buried.

---

By the time the office began to empty out, you were still at your desk, double-checking the calendar for the next day. You didn’t realize John was still there until his voice broke the silence.

“Still here?”

You looked up, startled to find him leaning against the doorframe. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing just a hint of his collarbone.

“Just finishing up,” you replied, closing your laptop.

He stepped into your office, his presence filling the small space. “You shouldn’t work so late.”

“Says the man who’s still here,” you shot back with a smirk.

He chuckled, low and warm, before his gaze softened. “Come to dinner with me,” he said suddenly.

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Dinner,” he repeated, stepping closer. “Just the two of us.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

“People might talk,” you murmured, looking anywhere but at him.

“Let them,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I care what you think.”

Your breath hitched at his words, at the quiet vulnerability in his tone. “John…”

“I’ve wanted to say something for months now,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. Not anymore.”

Your heart was pounding, your cheeks warm. You searched his face for any sign that he wasn’t serious, but all you saw was sincerity.

“Say yes,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “Just this once.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

The smile that spread across his face was enough to make every worry fade. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

I hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[hannieehaee]

LO$ER=LO♡ER (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: jihoon's been pushed aside and ostracized from the moment he was born. completely alone, with no family and only a handful of friends, he's been too beaten down to expect anything good with the shitty cards life has dealt him. when he's presented with his new coworker, it's hard to not fantasize about her, but he'll never actually allow himself to believe she could ever look like him with anything but pity — just like everyone else.

content: loser!jihoon, antisocial!jihoon, sociallyawkward!jihoon, insecure!jihoon, sunshine!reader, jihoon is basically just a complete loser with horrible luck who's never felt true happiness (sorry), mentions of bullying, mentions of jihoon's sad past, sunshine!reader, slowburn, lots of worldbuilding but its just so u can feel sorry for jihoon lol, coworkers au, pining, miscommunication, afab reader, smut, sub!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, handjob, body worship, nipple play, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.9k (teaser); 14k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: february 10th!

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: i put together every form of loserism and created this jihoon

masterlist

Every week was the same.

Jihoon would get up, fix his overgrown hair the best he could, and take the train over to work.

This was as far as he'd gotten in life; an overly repetitive existence with no sense of joy within it.

He should've been happy. Things were better now. Being 27 with a stable job and no real issues in his life should be something to be grateful for, yet Jihoon found himself being completely displeased with his life.

Surely there must be more to life than this, right? A lonely and loveless life that appeared to be leading him nowhere. But still, things were better than before.

It was hard for Jihoon to speak of his childhood, much less his teenage years (or even his college life). It was all too grim. He'd grown to accept it, to let it all go, but the past had made him who he was, and he knew his current self was to blame for his loneliness. For his lack of love.

And so he continued his daily routine, living day after day with no change in sight. He accepted this with a flat smile, grateful that things were just fine. Not good, not great, not even varied, but just fine.

This week, though, finally had something different. But to Jihoon that was usually bad news.

Were you bad news?

You were the brand new thing in his life.

It was your first week in his office. A brand new face. A very pretty face.

Jihoon never thought about such things. He'd never had any romantic experience in his life. He had a long distance girlfriend once, but even that didn't work out. Too much distance, too many lies, too many complications. Jihoon just wasn't made for love.

So he never thought of such things again.

It was rare for him to even see a pretty girl on his day to day. His morning commute was far too early and filled with people way too old for him to even look in the eye without feeling disrespectful. His workplace, although consisted of a variety of people, was not a place where he felt very welcome initiating friendships or anything of the sort. Cliques had ended in high school, he thought, yet he found himself at the bottom of the food chain among his coworkers. He wasn't liked and was deliberately avoided by everyone around him.

Until you came along.

Finding you beautiful was no surprise to Jihoon. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Putting appearances aside, you were sunshine personified. Smart, confident, hardworking, gentle, nice, beautiful. You were everything anyone could ever want. At times Jihoon even wondered whether he wanted you or if he just wanted to be like you.

You'd caused an immense impression in him within the short time in which he'd known you.

He hadn't really gotten to know you on a personal level yet. But you had extended him an olive branch upon the first meeting, which was a memory that had implanted itself on his mind. It was rare for Jihoon to come by good memories.

This was the first time he'd felt accepted in a very long time. Yet the fears of it turning around and slapping him in the face (like in so many prior instances) was too big for him to really consider you good news in his life.

It was kind of embarrassing looking back at it. Jihoon hadn't been expecting you (how could he have?), but you suddenly showed up at his cubicle accompanied by one of his coworkers, Doyle.

Doyle wasn't someone Jihoon thought too much about — or at least he tried not to. He was the classic high school bully, except in a corporate-world wrapping. Jihoon had dealt with bullies his whole life, he'd become desensitized to it by now. Still, it bothered him to see him standing next to you. He hadn't met you yet, but he was immediately disheartened by the new girl at the office looking buddy-buddy with someone he considered an adversary.

What had been surprising to Jihoon, though, was your complete disinterest in Doyle's obvious advances.

It was pretty often that Doyle would attempt to assert his dominance by putting Jihoon down in front of other coworkers. He'd tease him and patronize him in front of anyone to see in order to show others who was in charge. And it was not Jihoon, that was for damn sure.

Jihoon got up as soon as he sensed a presence at his cubicle, somehow managing to stumble over his feet as he did so. When he looked up, he was not expecting you, yet there you were. Beautiful, smiling down at him with genuine interest in your eyes. You didn't know him, but you had kindness in your eyes. He could tell.

He stumbled over an introduction as Doyle interrupted him, telling you Jihoon's name and position at the company for him. Unwarranted and once again showing that if he so wished, he could speak over Jihoon.

But you'd interrupted him in return, turning to Jihoon to extend your hand with that smile never leaving your lips.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you'd smiled as he felt fire at the mere handshake.

"Hi, I, uhm, I'm Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. I didn't realize we had someone new coming. It's nice to meet you. You- If you need anything, you can always ask me," he slapped himself mentally when he said it. He stuttered his way through it like a fucking loser. His immediate attraction to you was too obvious. Doyle's smirk as he stood beside you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh, that's so nice, thank you! I'm right next door. Well- right next cubicle, so I'll probably take you up on that sooner or later," you laughed at your own attempt of a joke.

Jihoon couldn't help chuckling back, ignoring Doyle as he patted your shoulder, laughing along. Jihoon noticed a short-lived discomfort in your eyes at the action, one which died when your eyes went back to him.

Was he imagining it, or were you showing preference towards Jihoon?

"Well, let's not bother our little Jihoonie here any longer," Doyle interrupted once more, "It's almost lunch time," he leaned in to tell you, looking down at Jihoon, "We all usually go to a burger joint nearby — Jihoonie here likes to stay in, so we try to stay out of his way."

That wasn't entirely true.

Once upon a time, Jihoon did attempt to join the rest of his coworkers in outings, but he was always alienated. After a few too many slights about his hair, his height, his weird choice in clothing, or even just his personality, he decided to stray away from anything that wasn't strictly professional when it came to his coworkers. He was always the butt of the joke, so he made the decision to isolate in the office with a cold sandwich he packed for himself every day.

Sometimes his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would join him, but there was usually not enough time to see them during regular working hours. This left him alone most of the time.

Your face seemed to deflate at Doyle's words. Whether it was out of pity for Jihoon or annoyance at Doyle's overzealous confidence around you, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, I actually brought a packed lunch," you told Doyle before turning to face Jihoon again, "Would it be okay if I stay in with you?", you looked at him with expectant eyes.

"You wanna, uhm, have lunch with me?", he asked dumbly and you nodded, "Y-yeah, that'd be nice, yes," he attempted a shy smile, succeeding when you returned it.

Doyle cleared his throat, interrupting the silent smiles you and Jihoon were sharing.

"Well, I could stay in with you if you want, I-"

But you interrupted him again.

"That's fine. I don't wanna get in the way of your plans. Jihoon will make fine company," you said politely, stepping away from Doyle to head over to your desk, popping back next to Jihoon with a brown paper bag.

Doyle looked dumbfounded for a few moments before masking it with a tight smile. Jihoon simply stood there as you pulled up a chair and settled it on Jihoon's desk, paying no mind to Doyle.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'll keep showing you around after lunch. You have my number if you need anything," Doyle made emphasis on that last statement, offering you what looked like a genuine smile before giving Jihoon a look that told him he still felt victorious in the end.

"Thanks, Doyle! Bye!," you smiled back before turning to Jihoon.

Lunch was incredibly awkward for Jihoon. But that wasn't your fault. You'd been incredibly nice, asking him questions and keeping the conversation going despite the mumbly, shy mess Jihoon was. The conversation was entirely carried by you, with you surprisingly taking an interest in him. Every word, every gesture, they all led him to believe you were genuinely nice.

At the same time, he felt entirely delusional.

It wasn't often that people were nice to him, so it was likely he was building it up to be more than it actually was. You likely did not want to stay in with him, but after Doyle brought up that Jihoon was the only one in the office during lunch break, you had no option but to join him since you also planned to stay in. However, you were a good team player, Jihoon believed. Not many people would sacrifice their lunch to stay in with the black sheep of the office just to rid yourself of any possible awkwardness. Jihoon knew damn well many previous coworkers had gone out of their way to avoid him before.

But despite the belief that you simply pitied him, Jihoon missed your time spent together the moment it ended. He felt shy and blushed bright red at every single word uttered from you, but it had been the nicest interaction he'd had in a long time (a long, long time).

That had happened last Wednesday, repeating itself on Thursday, Friday, and then a whole weekend was spent with Jihoon solely thinking about you. Time that he usually spent reading or playing chess online was instead used up to think about you. It was mostly to overthink every tiny interaction and panic over it, but it was was still preoccupied by you.

But he also thought about other things.

How beautiful he found you to be. How nice, funny, hardworking, smart and riveting you were (despite this being an assessment he'd made in less than a week of knowing you). This was Jihoon's first crush in ... he couldn't even remember how long.

And it was terrible.

Every crush he'd ever had had turned out terribly. Harmless elementary school crushes turned into pranks pulled by his classmates in order to embarrass him. Prepubescent middle school crushes became false confessions that led to public embarrassment. Hopeless high school crushes were nothing but a farse that led him into giving up altogether.

Throughout his practically non-existent love life, Jihoon had always been met by nothing but discouragement, sometimes by simple rejection and other times by harassment from people who believed him to be unworthy of being liked. These were memories he did not like to relive, but the resurgence of feelings for someone brought them all back.

And so he was unsure of how to feel. He was unsure of whether to let himself like you or recoil, unwilling to even try.

...

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[fatfemmefreaquency]

i think maybe what’s missing in this conversation is a discussion of the fact that we could all consume less, actually

one of the primary concerns in terms of AI criticism is the environmental impact—these generative AI technologies consume a huge amount of energy because they require significant computing power

like yeah—some consumption is necessary for survival. and some is necessary to thrive

but do we really need all of the digital art that we’re producing? through AI??? you need soulless art? really? examine that assumption i think

it’s also worth acknowledging that the art is still going to be somewhat soulless when it’s produced by someone being exploited for their labour

and yeah. it IS exploitation to pay people in the imperial periphery a minuscule amount—most goods cost MORE in the periphery than they do in the imperial core, not less. so paying someone a pittance and acting like they should be grateful for you sending them money at all is weird as fuck

and honestly? yeah, underpaying someone for a job is worse than not paying them at all and them therefore having the time to find other employment for which they are fairly compensated

you are not entitled to others devalued labour just because you live in the imperial core and see it as somehow magnanimous to hire people from the periphery to do work for you—and they do have fewer options for lucrative employment so this idea that theres some big difference between you exploiting them vs. a major corporation is nuts

it IS a “productive analogy” in fact to compare exploitative corporations underpaying labourers in the global south to exploitative citizens of the imperial core underpaying labourers in the global south (idk what that person further up thread was on about with that argument lol)

because these two interactions are the same thing. it’s either a private individual or an organization leveraging the disparity of access to resources between the core vs. the periphery to find ways to underpay for labour. it does not matter if it’s a sweatshop or freelancing: the material impact is the same if it’s you, individually, or if it’s a corporation

but i think what a lot of people in the imperial core forget is this: you can consume less

there is such an entitlement to the goods & services that people at the periphery produce, even among the lowest classes in the imperial core

you do not need cheaply made goods. you do not need goods or services that involve exploiting labourers

there is also an almost staggering sense of entitlement in westerners to natural resources and to energy that, frankly, should not be privately owned

like idk. why should you get to use all that computing power and electricity to produce some shitty AI art?

i don’t actually think you’re entitled to consume those resources, just as much as you’re not actually entitled to the labour of people you refuse to pay a living wage

do you need it? what’s the impact of consuming it and is the cost actually worth the quality of what you get?

i think we all deserve nice things. we all deserve enough to both survive and thrive

but AI art is not a nice thing. it doesn’t meaningfully contribute to us thriving and the cost in terms of energy use, environmental destruction, global warming/ climate change, and other harms caused by the tech industry around it is too fucking much

none of us can afford to foot the bill

go watch some tv show or consume some art that already exists. ideally do it NOT by streaming—you can still buy physical media and watching or viewing it still costs less than streaming does

you know what’s more environmentally and economically sustainable than churning out a bunch of AI Garbage OR exploiting an artist to make something sub-par (because they’re not being paid enough to do their best work)? museums. galleries. being in nature. making your own art. looking at art your family & friends make. there are beautiful and fascinating and worthwhile things to look at in many, many places

i promise it won’t kill you to not have your own personal artists at your beck and call, be they generative AI or underplayed freelancers

i love how many AI art haters will with no self awareness whatsoever ask "ummm why don't you just underpay and exploit someone (probably in the global south) instead of using the evil words machine :/"

[lolitastories]

Ocean blue

Rafe Cameron

As I stood one step behind Rafe and our daughter, I felt like their bodyguard. He always wanted to have her in his arms. He didn’t feel the need to use her stroller, so it always stayed in the trunk. He would look back every so often to make sure I was close by but most importantly, he made sure to catch every moment, expression, or action from our daughter. “Don’t get her too close to the glass” I warned. But just as I said it he squatted down with her close enough to touch the glass. He grins back at me before turning to see our daughter so fazed with the creature in front of her. I step back taking a seat on the wooden bench and just watch those two.

“Can you imagine them living amongst dinosaurs?” My head snaps to my right as a man takes the seat beside me. “Of course they developed over the years but it's incredible to think of how far back they go.”

“And now you have them here” I plainly point towards the glass. “Living behind a glass where people pay to come and see them.” The guy laughs shaking his head.

“If you think they deserve better, why come see them?”

“Call me a hypocrite,” I smile. “I like to think these places are made up of animals we have helped. Maybe that small turtle was saved and would never be able survive out there in the wild.”

“A nice way to see things,” He lets out a sigh. “But still pessimistic?”

“Oh yes” I laugh. “It’s second nature to me. People can be so deceiving that it's easier to never truly put your trust on someone.”

“Talking from experience?” I turn my head to look at him. My smile turned into a bit of a frown. His mood shifted really quickly, noticing my change. “You seem like a person who believes in second chances?”

“I believe things can be made right, but I also believe a person should know their value. Trust should be sacred. If you decide to trust someone it could either make you noble or a fool for falling for the same trick twice.”

“And you don’t want to make that mistake twice because you’re scared of the pain?” I shake my head letting out a quick laugh. “In my books it doesn’t make you a fool to trust again, it simply means you are a human with a big heart.”

“Guess we just differ in opinions.” He smiles nodding along.

“We should meet up to see if that is true, maybe in a couple of years it will be the same?” I look over feeling my smile die down. I take a deep breath ready to respond when someone cuts me off.

“I think not.” Our heads turn to see Rafe standing there. “Our daughter wants to visit the shop.” His eyes rolled over to mine. Dead expression on his face.

“I don’t mean to cause any trouble-”

“Then walk away.” I gasp at Rafe's response. I was about to grab his hand and pull him away when he turned towards me and handed over our daughter. As I adjusted her in my arms I am faced with his back.

“I-” I see the man stretch to the side with pleading eyes to look at me but of course Rafe blocks him. He moves forward with each hand grabbing a fist full of the man's collar.

“Look dude. I am trying to have a nice day with my family and you are ruining it. You are some creepy guy who comes to places like these alone to what? Pry on women hoping they give you some attention?”

“Rafe stop.” I demanded placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Look man I just saw her sitting there and she looked a bit down,” What? I looked down? People said I have a resting bitch face but I didn’t know it made me look depressed, what the fuck.

“Your mistake.” Rafe continues. “Now that I am here you can move along and bother someone else, this one is mine.” He lets him go with a little shove. I stay quiet knowing and hoping it won’t escalate. The man fixes his shirt and with a last glance towards me he walks away.

“Seriously?” I say watching Rafe walk to where I was standing. “You didn’t have to do all of that.” He doesn’t respond. He simply takes a hold of my hand and begins to drag me somewhere. “Rafe,” I say a little louder trying to get his attention. He swiftly dragged us between the crowd until we stopped in front of the family bathroom.

“In.” He opened the door and motioned for me to get in but I just stood there. I raised one brow thinking how crazy he was acting and childish. “Can you please get in?” I rolled my eyes and got in. I shake away the small grin knowing it wasn’t the time to acknowledge his cute plea. I wait for him to close the door and lock it. “I heard you two talking.”

“Rafe you know I wouldn’t-”

“I wasn’t talking about him.” He stays put in the doorway. I search his eyes for any clue, until it hits me. “Are you ever going to trust me?” His voice was almost a whisper. “You don’t say it but I know the reason for you breaking up with me and putting me on trial to be in our daughter's life was because of my past.” I was left speechless. My cheeks were burning and my bones were aching to just touch him. I saw how pain flashed in his eyes but I couldn’t find the words. “You would have hated who I was back then and who’s to say I won’t go back to being that person again. My father was a bad man but I loved him.” His last word made his voice crack. “I don’t want her to live through that and hate me,” His head falls down but I notice a small tear rolling down his cheek. “I don’t want to live knowing you always have a foot out the door.” That's when he broke down into a cry.

“Rafe,” I swallowed the pain in my throat and walked over to him. I grabbed his hand and led him to the single couch in the room. “Look at me Rafe.” I kneel in front of him. I lifted his chin a bit to search for his eyes. Once I saw his eyes focus on me I moved our daughter to his lap. “I can’t tell you that it didn’t play a part in my decision because it did.” His chest was breathing heavily. “But it didn’t make me stop trusting you, ever.” Both of my hands were holding his cheeks making sure he didn’t look away. I move my thumbs to clear up the remainder of his tears. “Baby I fell in love with the man you became after so much pain. You did that on your own before we met and after seeing you become a father, I know you won’t ever do anything to make her and I hate you.”

“But you don’t even look at me the same.” I grinned hearing his childlike whine. I move closer between his legs.

“I don’t look at you the same because you keep changing on me for the better.” I begin to smile bigger. “I fell in love with a 20 year old boy who was building a life for himself. Then again as a 24 year old man who became the father to our little girl. Now I have a chance to see what kind of person you will become as we grow older together but trust me, the only change you see in my eyes is how my love just keeps getting bigger and bigger for you.” I lift my head giving him a quick kiss. “Those blue eyes have become my favorite blues to see.”

“Not the ocean?” He says quietly.

“No, ocean blue doesn’t even come close.” He nods softly before fixing his down posture. “Are you okay?” He flickered his eyes down towards me as he nodded. But when I tried to get up with one hand he kept me from standing up. He leans forward and as I try to pull away but his free hand moves from my shoulder to the back of my head.

“You need to be more careful when talking to strangers,” What am I, 10?. “I held back because our daughter was nearby, but don’t go making friends with strangers, especially men.” I roll my eyes as I let out a chuckle. “You two are mine to protect.” I move forward resting my forehead against his.

“She is ours to protect,” I say challengingly. His piercing eyes don’t change showing how he was not amused with my answer. “I won’t do it again.” I groaned, pulling away from him. “Can I get up now? My knees are killing me”

“I don’t know why. You have always been good on your knees.” I scoff pushing him away.

“You're an idiot.” I hear him laugh as I pick myself up. “Now let's go because there is an otter plushie that has my name on it.” I hear the couch creek as he stands and walks over to the door. I turn around to face Rafe, one hand on the handle behind my back as he stares down at me. “I love you so much.” I whisper quietly and slowly. His eyes move to my right and then the left a couple of times. “Don’t forget it.” I simply state. I turn and push the door open but his hand grips mine and pulls it close. His face right beside me ear,

“Woman if I didn’t have my daughter in my arms right now I would fuck you against this very door. Don’t go saying things like that when I can’t do anything about it.” He takes a step back allowing me to focus back on opening the door. I tried to swallow but my mouth was left dry. Of course Rafe was enjoying it. He wrapped his free arm around my neck and led us to the shop with a grin on his face.

“Fuck the store” I stop in my tracks. Shivers were literally circulating around my body.

“What?” Is he stupid?

“We can come tomorrow to get her a stuffed animal. Let's go home. She needs to nap.” I didn’t care how desperate I looked or sounded. I needed Rafe. These people should be grateful I have enough self restraint to hold myself back but it wouldn’t be for long.

“What about the otter-?”

“Fuck the otter Rafe.” I looked around a little embarrassed as I spoke a little too loudly. I walked closer making sure no one was going to hear me. “I am giving you a chance to go home and fuck me Rafe.” His eyes widened. “You can fuck me until you put another baby in me. I need you,” I look up with pleading eyes hoping to get him on the same page.

“Yes ma’am.” And with Rafe, it didn’t take much.

[thanosscross]

In my club - Choi Seung Hyun/ T.O.P x reader- Part four

Summary: With tour coming up, Seung Hyun realizes he can't leave without knowing if he'd ever see you again, leading you to a very exciting Monday night

Warnings: Nothin really :)

Whenever you woke up the next morning, you were immediately holding your breath, noticing that you and Seung Hyun were tangled with one another under the blankets, Seung Hyun's arms wrapped around you tightly as if you were his own personal teddy bear. Trying to take a deep breath in, you mistakenly took a sharp inhale, causing the man who was sleeping so peacefully before to jolt awake thinking something was wrong.

Looking around Seung Hyun sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow, loosening his hold on your waist, but keeping it draped over your hips tiredly "Everything okay, beautiful?" He asked softly, his voice deep and gravely from just waking up and most likely drinking the night before. "Y-yea" You mumbled nervously, making your way out of his bed, your cheeks burning with a blush as you rushed downstairs, desperate to get away to process what you just woke up to. Seeing your panicked state, Ji-Yong was quick to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you back towards him "You woke up with him, didn't you?" He smirked, teasing you slightly "You know..He likes you, y/n, Seung Hyun has been different since he saw you in the club the first time" He explained, the smirk never leaving his face as you blushed, glancing towards the bedroom door where you heard Seung Hyun's footsteps walking around. "We're just having fun, it's not like that" You giggled, finding it sweet Ji-yong was so concerned with helping his friend find somebody. Before you could leave for downstairs, you were stopped by the same person you were trying to avoid "Hey, can we, go somewhere and talk?" Seung Hyun asked sheepishly, not liking the way you now made him nervous, but he persisted, knowing their international tour was about to start and he didn't want to risk leaving without knowing if he'd see you again.

Sitting at the small private coffee shop, you glanced around at everything smiling "It's so pretty here.." You stated as you took in all of the flowers and how the sunlight bounced perfectly off of the decor outside making a rainbow hue reflection on to the tables. "How do you think they thought of this place?..Like do you think it was just a they got everything as they went or do you think they planned this all out..because it's breathtaking" You whispered in awe, tilting your head slighting gasping whenever you your perspective shifted the image you saw through the crystal decor on the table, seeing a beautiful detailed engraving of the stars and moon. Seung Hyun couldn't help but watch in awe as you swooned over his favorite 'chill spot', coming here often before and after tours to just read and think of new raps, here you were treating everything like it had been your first time seeing true beauty. "you know..this is the most you've spoken to me sober..I was starting to think you didn't like me unless you were drunk" He teased, hiding his feelings to what he thought was perfectly, and anybody who wasn't you would've noticed immediately Seung Hyun was starting to lead on to something more with you, but you were oblivious, to flustered and enthralled with everything around you to notice, your life had changed significantly in the last few days, going from spending your free time either partying with your friends or sitting in your apartment that you shared with said friends, watching tv shows and different youtube videos you found, to partying with a famous K-pop group and sleeping with one of the biggest rappers in k-pop currently.

As you both spoke, you had agreed you didn't want the fun you were having to end so soon, so you agreed to follow them on tour, I mean, free V.I.P tickets to concerts, plus getting to see Seung Hyun more, and a vacation? Where were the cons?

A con? Flying. You hated it, couldn't stand it, between your fear of heights and the getting motion sickness very easily, flying was like your mortal enemy. Walking onto the plane you kept your headphones placed on your head, trying to keep yourself distracted from the fact you were allowing yourself to become trapped in an enclosed space that was soon to be thousands of the feet in the air, with absolutely no escape. Sitting down in your seat you glanced around, it was first class, allowing a lot more room for you, but it didn't change where you were. As the plane took off you tried your best to stay calm, digging your nails in the armrests as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly. Ji-Yong was the first to notice you, followed by Tae-Yang, Dae-sung and Seung Hyun having a conversation a row ahead "Seung hyun" He whispered leaning forward trying to get his friends attention, knowing if he got you through this, you'd most likely warm up to him when sober. Eventually as the plane had a bit of rough turbulence Seung Hyun turned his attention back towards the others, Ji-Yong shooting him an annoyed look before nodding to you. You resembled somebody going on a scary rollercoaster waiting for the drop, you were curled up in your seat holding onto the armrests with your head turned towards the side, your face scrunched in fear as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to calm your breathing and not freak out as the plane got higher and higher. You yelped feeling two hands rest on yours "Beautiful.." Seung Hyun whispered, you turned your hands to hold his, not wanting him to think you were ignoring him, but you were too terrified to move or speak, Seung Hyun squeezed your hands gently, smiling softly "There you are, I thought we lost you there for a moment, why didn't you tell anybody you were scared of flying?" He asked, waiting for the seatbelt to actually shut off before undoing your seatbelt, switching you spots before having you sit back down on his lap as he hugged you, he wasn't sure what you were feeling, but he knew most times he felt anxious, all he really wanted was a patient hug. Your hands gripped onto his jacket tightly, almost like you'd fall out if you didn't, Seung Hyun just held onto your body gently, talking you through the flight, even getting to a point where you felt comfortable enough to open the window shade to see the sky "See?...Sometimes.. you have to go through scary things to get to the beautiful things" He whispered quietly pointing towards the clouds.

You were somewhat calm the rest of the flight, once you were landed you were all rushed off to the arena, watching the boys rehearse for the first time was an experience for you, they had purposely had you move from V.I.P to the barricades for different songs, claiming that they had to get an idea of where they needed to be to interact with fans. Seung Hyun couldn't help but notice the way you watched them, your face mimicking the same face you had whenever you were at the coffee shop with him, watching in pure awe and amazement as they moved and sang. As they finished their rehearsal you noticed Seung Hyun's eyes on you the entire time he made his way back down to you "Y/nnnn! Y/n! You like? You like, Y/n?" He smirked strutting down the stairs before stopping in front of you, smiling at your flustered expression, looking everywhere except for him, you giggled loudly before nodding "Yes, yes I like, You guys were awesome!" You giggled, grabbing his arms gently as you bounced on your heels with excitement, not being able to wait for the actual show.

Whenever it got closer to the time of the show Ji-Yong and Seung Hyun had a security guard walk you to your seat in V.I.P, standing not far from your seat as he followed the instructions given. As Seung Hyun and the others walked out he quickly met your eyes, sending you a smirk and wink before making his way past the V.I.P section. It was the first and coolest V.I.P you had ever had, the section being on an actual part of the stage they boys were on, as you listened to the boys you couldn't help blush whenever you heard Seung Hyun's deep voice go through the speakers as he rapped for Fantastic Baby, purposely turning his head to look at you anytime he'd say 'wow, fantastic baby'. Seung Hyun wasn't the only person focusing on you throughout the show, anytime the boys had free time between verses or whenever they didn't have a verse in a song they'd be in V.I.P taking turns dancing with you and others, As Seung Hyun sang along to Turn it up loud he spotted Ji-Yong dancing with you, spinning you around as you giggled softly hiding your face quickly as you noticed Ji-yong's dancing had landed you both on the giant screen behind you.

Seung Hyun watched raising his eyebrows as Dae-Sung shook his head, taking your hand from Ji-Yong, spinning you around to face, placing both hands on his chest before holding your hips swaying to the beat of the music, you had to hide your blush as you made eye contact with Seung Hyun's curious gaze. As the song ended and Knock out started to play, Seung Hyun made his way over to you, making sure to shuffle his feet to the beat, stumbling purposely as he started his verse, waving his hand at the side of his face before Ji-Yong took over. He was quick to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to him before mouthing the words 'let me teach you' to Dae-Sung, he wrapped your arm around his neck and shoulders as he pressed his hips into yours swaying to the beat, smirking at he brought the microphone to his lips, feeling confident as he stayed on beat while hitting every note to his second verse. By the time the song was over you were sitting back down trying to hide your face from the obvious blush, watching as they preformed more of their songs, some of them you recognized from the club. You were having a lot of fun, starting to realize maybe you should let yourself get drunk a little more often if it meant meeting people like Seung Hyun, and the boys.

As the show got closer to the end you noticed the beat to the song from the other night start to play, watching Seung Hyun smirk with Ji-Yong they stood on their marks, getting ready for the cue of Bae Bae to start so Ji-Yong could start. You smiled to yourself, swaying your body to Ji-Yong's first and second verse, watching him move slowly down the stage reaching for other fans' hands before Seung Hyun started rapping, hopping and spinning to your chair again, whenever Ji-yong started singing again, Seung took his chance to grab your hand gently, swaying the both of you until the chorus started again. You knew there were three songs left afterwards, Tonight, If you, and Last Dance, thanks to Dae-sung you were learning their song names as they preformed them.

Listening to If you and Last Dance you kept your eyes on Seung Hyun, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over you whenever you heard his soft voice actually sing instead of rap, your stares didn't go unnoticed though, almost every boy in the group noticed your longing glances that you gave their friend anytime he was singing.

Hearing Tonight play for the first time you were quick to start moving with the music, giggling as you saw Seung Hyun nodding along with your movements as he started to make his way over, stopping a few way he smirked motioning you to come over to him. You stood up nervously, looking into his eyes it felt like your nerves were vanishing, forgetting the circumstances and how many people were actually watching you slowly made your way over to him, thankful for V.I.P serving alcohol during the show, you weren't drunk yet, just tipsy enough to start ignoring your anxieties. As you spun your hips you squealed feeling Seung Hyun take your hand in his pulling you to his chest as he looked at you smirking "Just like at home right?" He asked, moving hips with yours as you rolled them forward with Ji-yong's verse. You just nodded smiling as you spun around, giggling as he raised both of his and your hand up to help you spin, as the ending chorus came, you jumped around in his hold, his hands steadying your hips before he held you down on your feet before pulling you close raising the microphone "Tonight?..Such a beautiful night" He whispered before sighing into the microphone, spinning his hand in yours to motion you could sit back down, as you turned away he smirked "Goodnight" He whispered before blowing a kiss into the microphone and walking towards their original mark to exit and enter the show.

As they were lowered back down you walked in pure shock, their bodyguard ghosting his hand over your shoulder as he led you off of the stage and back towards the backstage door that was kept locked for obvious reasons, as the boys saw you walk through the door they rushed over "So!? What'd you think? First BigBang show!" Ji-Yong cheered, laughing at your shocked expression "Wow...just wow" You replied looking at them all "It was amazing! You guys were amazing! Oh my god!" You smiled cheering, Seung Hyun blushed, taking your compliments personally as if he was the only the one in the room "You were amazing! Whenever you and Seung Hyun started dancing together for tonight!? You two really made it feel like a night club!" Dae-sung shouted excitedly, holding your hands tightly, you smiled hugging your friend tightly "Thank you! I was nervous at first, I don't know how you guys are so confident with preforming! That was terrifying having so many people watching!" You giggled, pulling away from the hug to look at Seung Hyun, a blush painted brightly on his cheeks "Why didn't you tell me you could do more than rap?" You asked playfully, immediately losing all confidence and becoming flustered again whenever he smiled sheepishly placing his hand on your lower back "Seung Hyun is shy when he sings!" Tae-Yang explained, smiling whenever his friend glared at him for putting him on the spot "Don't be..it's really pretty" You smiled, feeling confident enough to take his hand in yours "What else do you have to do?" you added on, holding his hand close to your chest, pressed against your heart as you glanced around for any signs of somebody waiting for them "We have to get our things together, and go back to the hotel" Seung Hyun explained, pressing his lips to your forehead gently causing you to become a flustered mess again, he couldn't help it, he liked watching you rush away blushing and stuttering, stealing glances at him before you both found each other again.

As you got back to your floor on the hotel room you froze watching all four boys continue to walk past you "Excuse you, if you want me here, one of you better be bunking with me" You stated, blushing whenever Seung Hyun took it upon himself to turn his friends back around towards their room as he made his way back to you "Sorry, beautiful" He whispered, you went quiet as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders leading you into your now shared hotel room.

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