#what do you mean that moment didn't mean much to you?
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i9messi · 2 days ago
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Don't break up with me — Oscar Piastri
Because of a misunderstanding, Oscar thinks you want to break up with him. Signals made him suspect he was right, but in fact, you just want to surprise him with a new puppy.
word count — 1,3k
note: i promise you this is pure fluff and romantic stuff. oscar here loves reader soo much, so I hope you enjoy it!
MASTERLIST
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Oscar started to think about the last half of the year. Everything in your relationship had been so wonderful in those last few months, almost too perfect to be real.
You went to support him to his races every weekend, had romantic dates in your favourite places, went to museums and book stores and enjoyed ordinary things such as going together to the market. You had a beautiful relationship, where you supported each other and talked about your concerns as well as your future. Having known each other since you were teens, you and Oscar had talked many times about what you wanted to do in the future: to get marry and start a family.
Your families were very close, his mother loved you and you loved her, even spent time with her when he was not around. Your side of the family adopted him as their son, showing love to him.
There was no way you would break up with him. It made no sense.
However, the signs were there. That morning before heading to the circuit he had called you and you interrupted him, saying you were busy. That would have made sense and it was fine, except then he talked later to his mom and she told him you had been texting her all morning. Why didn’t you want to talk to him?
It was bad. That couldn’t be happening.
“Oscaaaaaaaaaaarr.” Someone shouted and that made him come back to reality.
Lando was in front of him, while he was sitting on the couch. Oscar used to be the most calm in your relationship. He took things easy, used to think before taking action, but now thinking so much was turning him into a person full of insecurity.
“What's wrong?” Lando asked, realizing that his teammate was acting differently than usual.
“Nothing.”
“Is this about your girlfriend?”
Oscar didn't try to hide the truth, not with him. “I think she’s going to break up with me.”
Lando was silent for a moment, until he burst out laughing.
“Don’t laugh, I feel bad. I’m devastated.”
“She’s not gonna break up with you, mate.”
You didn’t live together yet, you hadn’t taken that step in your relationship yet, but you practically lived next to each other. Your apartments in Monaco were only a few meters away. Yesterday he had invited you on a date and you told him that you couldn’t go. Lately it was as if you didn't want to spend your time together, as if his mere presence was annoying to you.
“How are you so sure?”
“Because you're the perfect couple. You love each other, you show the world how adorable you are, and then make everyone else feel miserable.”
“I don’t think that’s true anymore, Lando.”
“Go talk to her, then. Crying and feeling bad about it won’t solve a thing. Go and win back your lady.”
Oscar listened to his teammate, knew he couldn’t waste time or the opportunity to talk with you. He found you just a few minutes later and you hugged him, while he left a kiss on your forehead.
“Baby, I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Oscar. Congratulations for the race, I'm very proud of you.”
That had to mean something, didn’t it? If you hadn’t missed him and if you didn’t want him more in your life, you wouldn’t have answered that. Oscar was trying to convince himself that he still had a chance with you.
“Let’s go to my house.” he suggested, as you raised your head and looked at him with a face that showed no feelings.
“We better go to mine. We need to talk.”
Damn. You were going to break up with him. You never spoke like that, you had never said those words before.
On the way to your apartment in Monaco, he drove quietly. Oscar noticed you were nervous. You ran your hand through your hair and barely spoke. You were acting strange. He was increasingly convinced that once you arrived at your home, you would tell him that you wanted to break up with him.
The road was eternal and the worst of the worst. You arrived and stayed in the living room.
“Would you like some water?”
“Yes, please.”
You went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and came back a few seconds later. He drank the water in a single instant, too thirsty and nervous.
“Is something wrong, Oscar?”
“Do you want to break up with me?”
You stayed silent, until Oscar spoke again. His eyes were shining, his hair was messy from all the times he had passed his hands over it.
“Don’t break up with me, please. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, you're my everything. I love you, that’s all I know. If I did something wrong just tell me, I'll try my best to not make the same mistake again."
“Oscar, baby…”
He hesitated, but he walked a step closer to you. Oscar was trying to not lose his mind.
“We can’t break up."
His supplicant gaze begged you not to leave him, not when he needed you so much.
“I love you and my life would be shattered without you.”
And something happened. You smiled.
“Oscar, I’m not breaking up with you. I don’t know what made you think I would.”
Calm made Oscar relax, but he remained confused. He was very sure of all the signs he had seen, he wasn't crazy and he was not imagining things. You had been acting strangely in those last days.
“Then why have you been acting so weird?”
“Wait for me, I’ll be right back!”
You left and came back a while later with something in your arms. A little puppy.
“It’s for you, honey.”
Oscar couldn’t help but come closer to you to see the puppy. The animal looked at him with a little mistrust, but once his hand came to caress the dog, the puppy began to move his tail with happiness, while you saw him with a smile on your face.
“A dog? For me?”
“It was a surprise. I talked with your mum about it and she even helped me. When you'll be busy with work stuff, I will be taking care of him.”
Your boyfriend grabbed the animal in his arms, the puppy ran his tongue over his face and Oscar squinted his eyes, while he couldn't stop feeling his heart beating frantically in his chest.
“l didn't expect this, thank you.”
“I would never break up with you, Oscar. You make me happy. That’s why I thought of adopting a puppy for you.”
“Then why were you acting so weird?”
“Because I wanted it to be a surprise. Yesterday I went to get him and that’s why I canceled our plans. Today the puppy peed in the clothes I was going to wear, just when you called. Also, he started barking and didn’t want you to find out. It was my little secret.”
Oscar had never been so happy, he left a kiss on your lips. Your mouths joined and he smiled so happily.
“I love you, you made me the happiest man in the world.”
“We have our little family now, Oscar. We are parents of a dog.”
Even as you planned to start a family when you were old enough, sharing the life of a pet was everything to him. Sharing the care and affection of a puppy made his tender and loving part appear.
“I love you and I love this animal. I will take care of you and him for my whole life.”
You weren't breaking up with him, that was the best part of all.
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extinctlesspains · 11 hours ago
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Something about how unhinged the Salesman/Recruiter does something to me. What if the reader is also a recruiter for the games? She's gotten used to his insane persona and knows how to handle it since they have to communicate about work. They'll often play games during these chats.
Sorry too many ideas floating!
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑇𝑤𝑜 [𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑛]
.・。.・゜✭・
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.・。.・゜✭・
ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ:ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴇ sᴀʟᴇsᴍᴀɴ x ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:ʜᴇ sᴍɪʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪʟᴇ ғʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʜɪs ʏᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀʀᴘ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀ ᴏ�� ᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴇᴄʜᴏɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀғᴇ́, ʙᴜᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ʜɪs ᴡᴏʀᴅs ʜᴇʟᴅ ɴᴏ ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴɢ ᴇᴅɢᴇ. "ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ɢᴀᴍᴇ, "ʜᴇ sᴀɪᴅ, ʜɪs ɢᴀᴢᴇ ʟɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, "ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ."
ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ, ɢᴀᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ 
The café was bustling, but the hum of life around you barely registered. Your focus remained on the chair across from you, still empty despite the time ticking by. He was late, as usual.
You stirred your coffee, letting the bitter scent ground you. Working with him was a test of patience and resilience, but it was also... oddly thrilling. The Salesman, you didn't know his name since he was very isolated, was chaos incarnate, unpredictable in the worst—and sometimes best—ways.
“Miss me?”
You didn’t jump at his voice; you were too used to his dramatic entrances by now. He slid into the chair across from you, his ever-present smirk firmly in place. His dark suit was immaculate, the red tie a glaring slash of color that caught the light.
“You’re late,” you said, lifting your coffee for a sip.
“Fashionably so,” he quipped, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. “But I see you’ve kept my seat warm. How thoughtful.”
“Hardly.” You set the cup down with a faint smirk of your own. “If you’d been much later, I’d have left.”
“Ah, but you didn’t.” He leaned forward, his sharp gaze locking onto yours. “You never do.”
The weight of his words hung between you for a moment, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you gestured to the briefcase he’d placed on the table.
“Are we doing this, or are you just here to waste my time?”
His grin widened as he reached into the case, pulling out a familiar bundle wrapped in cloth. Unfolding it revealed two ddakji tiles—bright squares of red and blue paper, their edges slightly worn from use.
“You know the drill,” he said, setting them on the table. “Winner takes all.”
“And by ‘all,’ you mean…?”
He chuckled. “Coffee, pride, the satisfaction of victory. Take your pick.”
You sighed, already reaching for one of the tiles. “Fine. One round.”
The first smack of the tile hitting the table drew a few curious glances from nearby patrons. The Salesman’s opening move was quick and sharp, flipping your tile with ease.
“Your turn,” he said, lounging back in his chair.
You studied his expression, the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. He was too confident, as always. But you’d learned how to read him—his subtle tells, the little quirks that betrayed his intentions.
With a precise flick of your wrist, your tile hit his at just the right angle. It flipped cleanly, landing with the blue side up.
“Hmm,” you said, feigning indifference. “Looks like you’re buying the coffee.”
For a moment, he just stared at the upturned tile. Then, to your surprise, he laughed—a genuine, full-throated laugh that drew more glances from the other customers.
“Well played,” he said, clapping his hands together. “You’ve been practicing.”
“Or maybe you’re just slipping,” you replied, leaning back with a smirk.
He narrowed his eyes, but the smile on his face didn’t falter. “Careful, recruiter. Pride comes before the fall."
As the game ended, the conversation shifted seamlessly into work. He described his latest target with the enthusiasm of a storyteller spinning a particularly twisted tale.
“Mid-thirties, father of two, drowning in debt,” he said, ticking the details off on his fingers. “His wife just left him, and his parents refuse to help. Classic case. He’ll fold like wet paper.”
You nodded, though something about his tone made you uneasy. “And what happens when he doesn’t make it?”
“That’s not our concern, is it?” He leaned forward, his smile taking on a sharper edge. “We’re just here to open the door. What happens after they walk through it is up to them.”
You hated how easily he dismissed it, but you couldn’t deny the truth in his words. Still, the gnawing discomfort refused to leave.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said, watching you closely. “It’s a dangerous habit in this line of work.”
“Someone has to think,” you shot back.
His grin widened. “Touché.”
The tension between you had always been an undercurrent, a quiet hum that neither of you acknowledged outright. But tonight, it felt sharper, closer to the surface.
“You know,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence, “you’re the only one who’s ever beaten me at ddakji more than once.”
“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” you replied, keeping your tone light.
“Or maybe,” he said, his gaze steady and uncomfortably intense, “you’re the only one who knows how to play my game.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and electric. For a moment, you wondered if he’d crossed a line, but then he leaned back, the smirk returning to his face as if nothing had happened.
“Another round?” he asked, already reaching for the tiles.
You hesitated, the weight of his earlier words still lingering. But then you nodded, picking up your tile.
“Fine,” you said. “One more round.”
This time, the game wasn’t just about tiles. It was about control, power, and something else you couldn’t quite name.
The tiles hit the table with sharp, precise smacks, the sound echoing louder in your ears with each round. Your focus narrowed, every move calculated, every flick of his wrist analyzed.
Smack!
Your tile flipped his for the second time that night.
He stared at the table, then back at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might be angry, but then he smiled—a real, genuine smile that softened the sharp edges of his face.
“Congratulations,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “Looks like you win again.”
The words felt like more than just an acknowledgment of the game.
And as you sat there, the faint buzz of the café fading into the background, you realized something.
Maybe you weren’t just playing his game. Maybe he was playing yours, too.
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 19 hours ago
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Unsteady
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You get hit on patrol. You go down hard. What happens after is a blur, but what you do know, is that you were never scared for a moment. ~ 2k words
A/N: I wanted to try a new format for my fics, so pictures! I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, tho, so I might change it again
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Being a vigilante in Gotham has never been easy. Between the bullet wounds, secret societies, and their attempted brainwashing tactics, and the more than a little tricky partnerships you have to navigate, sometimes you wonder how you've managed to make it for so long.
Don't get it wrong, saving people, taking out criminals, making the streets a little bit safer, you thrive on it. You live for the moments where you feel invincible, shouting awful quips back and forth with whoever you're patrolling with. The seconds where a civilian grabs your hand, smiling and alive and relieved by how easily you've taken down their attackers.
You do good in Gotham, a city that always seems to lack it. And, even if there are dangers that come with it, you've never really minded the risk. At least, not since you've started patrolling with Red Hood.
You're not exactly sure how it started. One day, you spent your nights alone more often than not, and then one day, you didn't. You think it might have been the Falcone bust you worked on together, or maybe it was the trauma bonding over getting trapped and tangled in Ivy's latest strain of living, grabby plant traps together.
Whatever it was, more nights than not, Red Hood lingers at your side while you traverse rooftops, and you've found a routine in following him on his own patrols through Crime Alley and The Hill. What started as a tentative trust quickly built to a steady partnership.
You know which ankle he tends to roll if he lands on the pavement wrong. He knows which shoulder you tend to favor when Gotham gets cold. You know his favorite street food vendor and order by heart. He knows what safehouses you stash your preferred drinks and snacks in– and how often they need to be resupplied.
You both keep each other from being too reckless, and honestly, you don't think either of you have ever really had that. It's not either of you have stopped throwing yourself into fights where you're outnumbered (but never out matched), it's just that you're not alone doing it.
Red Hood– Jason– has your back the same way you have his. And it makes Gotham a little less terrifying. It makes patrol– the idea that one day a simple mistake could mean you don't come home– a little less burdensome.
You knew you relied on him, maybe a little too much if you thought too hard about it. You just didn't realize how much space you made for him until it was pointed out to you. Nightwing makes note of it first, teasing you for having an entire pouch on your utility belt dedicated to extra ammo magazines for Red Hood's gun. Robin notices it next, admonishing you for not checking your six during a fight, even if Jason was covering you.
You'd be embarrassed if Red Hood didn't have the same amount of faith in you as you did in him. He trusts you to take point on missions, believes you when you offer him tips and whispers of cases he's working on.
You try not to read too far into it, but how could you feel anything but special when he so willingly lets you wander Crime Alley at his side, and rarely anyone else? When he calls you his partner? Calls dibs on patrolling with you? How could you not revel in the fact that someone so big and capable and sure in himself relies on you?
But for all the trust and skill that exists between you and Red Hood, sometimes you get unlucky. Sometimes, all it takes is one misstep, one slow reaction, for it all to go wrong.
It was supposed to be easy, routine. Just a small group of thugs trying to break their way into the back alley entrance of a jewelry store. It was supposed to be simple– you were even having fun, holding back laughter at how quickly they seemed to fall to the ground with each well aimed kick and jab.
With Red Hood taking one end of the alley and you the other, you thought you had them surrounded, you didn't even consider that there were more people around the corner.
You didn't hear them come up behind you– more preoccupied with dodging a punch to your throat�� when a loud crack sounds through the alley. You drop to your knees– ears ringing, bile rising in your throat, vision swimming.
The back of your head aches, and you know you're in danger, likely concussed. But you don't know what happened– was it a pipe? A bat? You know you need to move, but you can't get your body to listen, can't get yourself off of the ground as the world seems to tip and fade in and out as you heave.
You wait for the next hit, another burst of pain, but it never comes. There's shouting– gunshots maybe, you can't focus on it. You force your gaze up, and the colors and figures seem to blur into one nauseating sight.
You think you make out Red Hood, slamming one of the men into the ground. It's hard to process anything– to understand what you're seeing. Red Hood lurches towards you, or maybe he's just moving onto the next goon. Maybe he doesn't even know you're down.
You can't tell and maybe you should be scared. All it would take is one well aimed bullet to change everything. But you're not afraid. Even as black dots dance in your vision, even as your stomach churns and the noises that fill the alley seem pitched and garbled in your ears, you know that Red Hood will not let you die.
You think you see someone raising a bat to strike at you. You want to block, defend yourself, but your body feels too heavy to move. You squeeze your eyes shut instead, trying to quell the bile in your throat as you curl your fingers into fists, desperately trying to stop shaking, to ward off the cold sweats and pain that seem to be radiating on every inch of your skin.
You wait for the inevitable strike that will knock you clean into unconsciousness, but it still doesn't come. You lean forward, gasping for air as another wave of dizziness hits you, when gentle hands grab your shoulders, guiding you to straighten out again.
"Hey, hey," the familiar robotic voice washes over you, steady, if not a little anxious to the trained ear, "I've got you, open your eyes for me, sweet thing. Lemme see you."
You do, unable to do anything but listen. Bodies lay crumpled around you in the alley. You don't quite understand how he got to you so fast. He was on the other side of the alley, nearly a dozen men between the two of you, and it feels like he fought his way to your side within seconds. Maybe you had gone down longer– and harder– then you realized.
"There you are," He murmurs, carefully tilting your chin up to examine your face, he watches you for a moment, the way your breath doesn't quite seem to find a regular rhythm. He brushes his fingers over the back of your head next, feeling for any fractures in your skull.
He lets out a sigh of relief when he finds none, "Looks like it's just a concussion, some bruising. We'll get you back to the cave, make sure you're not bleeding, alright?"
You want to nod, but you think if you moved right now you think you'd throw up into his lap. Which would be mortifying. You also might be incredibly distracted by how close he is. It's not every day you get to admire the way his hair peeks out from under his hood, the set of his broad shoulders, the way the whites of his mask seem to glow in the shadows of the alley.
He's incredibly handsome in the Gotham moonlight.
And then he laughs, lowering his hand from the back of your head, "Thanks, doll. Think you can stand up on your own?"
Oh. Did you say that out loud? You didn't mean to. You furrow your eyebrows, trying to get the words you actually want to say off of your tongue, "M'fine," you mumble, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to get your world to stop spinning for a moment, to try and find your balance.
"You're slurring your words," he points out, hands finding your shoulders again as you pitch slightly to the side, "How's your head?"
"Hurts," You admit, giving up on your attempt to stand. You choose to admire him instead, the curve of his throat, the tilt of his jaw towards you.
"I bet," He mumbles, before falling silent, letting the moment linger just long enough for you to start to relax, lulled into a daze by your dizziness. "I'm going to carry you," he decides.
You don't get to protest, as if you're in the state to. He just maneuvers himself to your side, gently hooking one arm around your back, and the other under your knees to lift you to his chest.
A new wave of nausea runs down your spine, and you tuck your head into his shoulder, fingers curling against the red bat engraved into his armor, "Sorry" Jason mumbles, going still as he waits for your dizzy spell to pass, "Guess he got you good, huh?"
"Was my fault," you sigh out, closing your eyes as you nuzzle closer into the comfort of the crook of his neck, "Got complacent." It takes you longer than it should have to sound your syllables out, even longer to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, but you think you manage to sound at least slightly coherent.
"Nah, sweetheart, it was mine," He lowers his voice even more as he talks, careful not to make your head ring anymore than it already is, to not jostle your injuries (and brain) and more than they already have, "I should have seen him. Should have warned you," he tells you, slowly and methodically carrying you out of the alley, away from the carnage he created.
If your eyes were open, you'd see exactly how driven he was to get to you– how he left bodies broken and mangled in his one purpose of protecting you. Instead, all you notice is the familiar smell of leather and gunpowder radiating from him.
You shake your head, "Red–" You cut off your own words with a wince, hiding your face deeper into his neck as your whole body seems to pound with pain. You really just want to tug his mask off, to listen to the way his voice dips to a soothing tenor without the modulator, to watch the way his eyes linger on your face, but you're quick to push the notion away, to blame it on your jumbled thoughts.
You suck in a breath as the nausea passes, "You're not responsible for my mistakes." You sound weaker than you mean to, words more slurred than you'd like, but you hope you get your point across.
His breathing seems to stutter in his chest for a moment, and his fingers dip a little tighter into divots of your amour, "Feels like it, though. I hate seeing you get hurt like this."
The confession should be heavy, but it just makes heat bloom straight from your heart, makes you lightheaded in all the best ways. You don't hide the smile that threatens to take over your face, "Yeah. Me too. About you, I mean." You hope that he understands, even if your words aren't as poetic or eloquent as you want them to be, you hope he knows what you're trying to say.
The tension seems to drain from his body at your words, and he lowers his head to press his mask to the top of your head, the mirror of a kiss. Both of you go quiet, basking in each other's touch– the rise and fall of your chest– alive– as your pain finally fades into a dull ache.
Later, you'll protest being taken off of patrol for two weeks. Later, you'll complain that Jason gets to take out the Two-Face shipment you've been planning for weeks. But for now, he's warm. He's holding you close. And there's nowhere safer for you than his arms.
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fly-torio · 15 hours ago
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Okay so I've been thinking about this post a lot during my DS9 rewatch and it just struck me how much I miss filler episodes. GOOD filler episodes. The ones that create characterisation and relief. Don't get me wrong, I love In Purgatory's Shadow, In the Pale Moonlight or Improbable Cause or even The Marquis ("It's easy to be a saint in paradise" line lives in my head rent-free) or any of the mainline story episodes, they're splendid, but they aren't what made me fall in love with DS9 on its own. The episodes I watch and rewatch and share with friends are not those. It's Only a Paper Moon, The Wire, Our Man Bashir, House of Quark, Hard Time, ... Nor the Battle to the Strong, Past Tense, Far Beyond the Stars, Doctor Bashir I presume, Bar Association, Trials and Tribble-ations, and so many others... All filler episodes I can't watch The Wire, Doctor Bashir I Presume or Hard Time without sobbing. I can't imagine a DS9 without Far Beyond the Stars. These episodes mean a lot to me for the experience it shares, the recognition I get to see. And they wouldn't be included in most new series. DS9 was so good at letting its characters be living, breathing, broken and healing individuals, and it got to do that by showing how they were also fighting their own battles or having fun. They showed us why their fight was worth it, and what I had to lose. It didn't just lower the stakes, it upped them at the same time because god, please, let my silly little goobers live, I want them to play the next chapter in their James Bond simulation, I want them to play some more sports, I want them to fall in love and utterly fuck it up. And the best part was that the filler episodes added storytelling elements, it lulled me into a sense of safety. It used its time to flesh out the world. Garak's shop blowing up? Can just as well be a filler or a main ep. Bashir getting stuck on a planet with a medical issue to solve? Time to worldbuild something about the Dominion! Quark getting into a scheme that completely spirals? Either it'll give you a laugh or it is the first time the Big Bad get named. I don't want big action sets every episode, I want to feel connected. I want these characters to be people, to live lives, to feel as real in the heartwrenching and hilarious extremes. Life is absurd, bigger than I can ever hold in my hands. Give me back the moments where I remember it is also small and meaningful, and worth going through.
I don't know what those '90s sci Fi TV writers were putting in their shows but I wish they'd start doing it again
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bigification · 3 days ago
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New Years Resolutions
"Hey bud! I'm glad you could make it back home for the holidays. We haven't been able to see you much since you graduated college." Your dad says as he walks out of his garage to greet you.
His white tang top is stained with grease and sweat from working on his vintage car all day. His stench gets stronger as he gets closer, giving you a slightly disgusting reminder of your life before graduating. He smiles and pulls you in for a firm bear hug. Even though you were never the type to get your hands dirty, much to your father's dismay, you choose to hug the sweaty man back regardless.
"Wanna help me with the car?" He asks.
You go all red, not knowing how to say no.
"I'm just pulling your chain buddy!" He laughs loudly enough for the neighbors to hear as he slaps you on the shoulder.
You nervously chuckle before making your way to the front door.
"Oh, by the way. We've started a yearly tradition since you left. Every new years, we think of three things we want to change for the next year and write it down. Then we read em out the next year to see if we actually did anything." He calls out as you're walking away.
You just turn back and nod before continuing towards the front door. It seems like a surprisingly fun tradition, something you didn't think your dad was capable of.
You say hi to the rest of your family before running up to your old room. You pull out a piece of paper and pen, and get to thinking. What do you want to change over the next year. You're pretty happy with everything in your life right now, you've got a good job and a great husband. What more could you ask for. It makes you think of your dad, your relationship isn't bad by any means, but you wish he was more understanding and he wishes you were more handy. That's it, if you were more handy maybe it could bridge that gap between the two of you.
"Being more handy." You quickly write on the small piece of paper.
Almost instantly upon writing those words, something changes. You look down and see that the pen is no longer in your hand, there's a hammer. Your small delicate hand holding the massive hammer seems out of place, but it isn't for long. Each of your fingers grows and thickens as your hand becomes large and calloused, now wide enough to cover the entire grip of the hammer. The other hand quickly follows suit, now holding onto a plank of wood instead of the piece of paper you were holding moments ago.
Your forearms bulge with muscle as tattoos cover your skin. The sleeves of your loose fitting shirt tighten against your growing biceps. Your shoulders broaden and flat chest springs to life, becoming two solid pecs, further tightening your shirt. Your waist slims into a tight six pack, giving your upper body a jock like V shape to it. This is further accentuated by the way your shirt is tucked into shorts, I mean your jeans, with a thick leather belt. Fat floods into your ass, creating a shelf on your backside as a thick bulge forms in the front of your jeans. Though the bulge is covered by your new utility belt, handy for keeping all your tools.
Your thighs explode with muscle and fat, making your jeans look like stuffed sausages. And your small running shoes become massive steel toed boots as your feet grow 5 sizes.
You've nearly achieved your goal of becoming handy, but a handy man wouldn't have a feminine face like that. Your jaw suddenly widens, your nose grows larger, and your brow bone becomes more prominent. Your long curls shrink into a sharp buzz cut as your hairline begins to recede, but it's quickly covered by a ball cap. Thick stubble forms above your lip and on your chin as a five o'clock shadow spreads through the rest of your beard. The hair spreads down your smooth body, covering your chest, stomach, arms, and legs.
You finally take a moment to look at your surroundings, now in the backyard of your parents home working on their deck. Your dad raised you to be a good handy man so you could help him with his projects.
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You get back to work, but soon remember your resolutions. You're supposed to write three dumbass, not just one. Some thick skilled moments like these make you regret dropping out of high school to work at the auto shop with your dad, but the regrets don't tend to last. You'd much rather be handy than smart. Back to the resolutions, you pull out the paper from your back pocket and place it on the plank of wood. Think... What do you want. You have everything you need, an honest job with your pops and a good man waiting for you back home. You suddenly think of your dad, you really look up to him and he's got massive muscles. You're no weak nerd by any means, but your dad is on a whole other level compared to you.
"I want to go to the gym more often." You write on the piece of paper.
You put the paper away and go to grab your hammer, but in its place is a weight. Why is there weight in the backyard? Theres no time for you to think about it, however, because your hands begins to change once again. They thicken to twice their original size, becoming large enough to grab even the largest of weights with just one hand. Your forearms grow to the size of your biceps and your biceps grow to the size of watermelons, with defined muscles and thick veins.
Each part of your body systematically swells to the size of a body builder, quickly ripping through your tiny clothes. Your chest grows two thick slabs of meat hanging above your eight pack and your back becomes a series of ripples formed by your muscles.
Your thighs grow so thick that they constantly rub together when you walk, leaving little room for your bull like testicles and pop can thick cock. The immense amount of testosterone pumping through your veins makes you horny all the time, leaving an ever present stain on the front of your pants. It also makes your beard grow fast enough that you constantly have a thick bushy beard, and it makes it so you're barely holding on to the hairs on your head. Good thing you have more than enough hair elsewhere to compensate.
You take a deep breath as you hang the weight back on the machine. Wait... what machine. You look around to see a plethora of workout machines in the basement of your parents home that you converted into a home gym.
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You reach for a heavier weight when you remember the new years resolutions. How many did you write again? You count with your fingers that you have written down two resolutions, that's one less than you needed to. What should be your last resolution. You already have everything you need, you've got bigger muscles than your dad, bigger muscles than your scrawny husband, and you live at your pops house. What more could you want. Well you're not bigger than everyone...
"I want to be bigger." You scribble onto the small paper.
You need to be careful with your words when you're making new years resolutions, or you just might become a completely different person. You know this all too well, yet never learn from your mistakes.
You reach for a dumbbell, but are surprised by how light it is. You must just be getting so strong that your weights feel like nothing. But when you look over, you're shocked to see a cold glass of beer in your hand. You stopped drinking a while ago because it turns you into a fat ass like your drunk of an uncle, and your body only needs pure muscle. Though, something about this glass of beer is calling to you. Just one couldn't hurt, besides, you could just call it a bulk.
You take a sip of the ice cold beer. It tickles as it passes through your thick facial hair, and smoothly glides down your throat. It was the best thing you've ever tasted. You take another sip, feeling it fill your stomach, you want more. You chug, but the glass never seems to be empty. You instinctively reach to rub your stomach, feeling the ridges along your abs. Wait. Where are the ridges. You rub your hand back and forth across your stomach and it's... Soft. You look down in horror to see a small round belly covering your eight pack. But you're not strong enough to stop yourself from drinking. You take another sip and grunt as your gut trusts outward, making you look pregnant. Impossible to hide, even with the loosest of clothes. You take another sip and grunt as your gut thrust outward once again, jiggling as it settles into place. It's now undeniable, it's the first thing someone will notice when seeing you. But you need one last sip, this time with a deep moan as your gut explodes outwards, sagging under its own weight. You are now what people think of when they think of obesity.
That's not all, not all the fat goes just to your gut. Some of it has covered the muscles around your body. Your solid pecs have melted into a pair of soft man tits that press against every shirt you wear. Your thin waist is now replaced by thick love handles that burst out of your clothes. Your muscly arms and legs look deceptively small and soft under a thick layer of pudge. Your hands and feet are swollen, stuffed with fat, leaving you with massive man hands perfect for gripping a glass of beer. And your dick has been engulfed in a thick fat pad, but it's not like you can reach it on your own.
And if that wasn't enough for you, any hair you have left has fallen out, leaving you with a shiny bald head. Also your beard has begun to go grey and your skin is starting to wrinkle. It looks like you became big in more than one way.
You kick back in your soft recliner with your beer and turn on the football game, relaxing in your newly renovated basement where you watch the game everyday. It's not like you used the gym anyway.
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reginyani · 2 days ago
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Midnight Moments | s.reid x fem!reader
summary: rossi host's a new year's eve party at his mansion, where you and Spencer have too much to drink, and end up going home together. this leads from one thing to another, and you somehow end up on top of him.
cw: 18+, mdni, fem!bau!reader, drunk sex, vaginal sex, praise, drunk!reader, drunk!spencer, making out, unprotected sex, dom!reader
wc: 3k
authors note: this honestly is pretty lazy i haven't written smut or any kind of sex fanfiction in SOO long.. im so used to writing fluff, and i'm sorry for this monstrosity. i swear guys I USED TO BE GOOD!! but anyways, i hope you like because even though it's not as good as i wanted it, it took a while!! (reblog if u did!)
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gif: reidgif
It was unreasonably warm for a New Year's Eve in Virginia, and the BAU team decided it would be fun to celebrate the holiday of transitioning to the new year at Rossi's sprawling mansion. The living room was lit by twinkling lights from a chandelier, casting a warm glow over the polished furniture. The scent of rich Italian food filled the air, mingling with the sharper tang of champagne. Laughter filled the room, and the unusual lightness of the air was noticeable tonight.
 
It wasn't too often that the team was able to unwind together. In fact, it had been months since they had been able to be in the same place without the stress of a case hanging over their heads. The new year was only a couple of hours away, and for once, nobody there was thinking about the darkness everyone had to face so often.
 
But tonight, you had been thinking about something else, rather... someone else. Spencer Reid sat on one of the plush couch cushions near the fireplace, his legs crossed with a glass of champagne in his hand. His tie was loosened, his hair a bit tousled from the evening's past activities. It had been quite some time since he had allowed himself to truly be 100% indulged in a night like this. His mind was usually full of numbers, equations, random facts, and the weight of the world's problems. But tonight, there was something oddly freeing about him tonight, and you couldn't tell if it was Garcia's laughter in the background or the sense that the world outside didn't exist.
 
Beside him, you took a seat, and you couldn't help but think how undeniably sexy you found him tonight. Maybe it was the loose tie, the way his hair was messier than usual, or maybe the way he was actively engaging in the conversations more than he normally did.
 
After a few moments of quiet conversation with Spencer, a bottle of wine appeared. You both shared laughs over something trivial—maybe the third or fourth joke of the night—but before long, both of your glasses were refilled. You didn't mean to drink so much, and you usually never did, but with the glow of the evening, it felt like such an easy thing to do. Spencer, though, seemed way more relaxed and loose tonight than you'd ever seen him.
 
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asks, his voice a bit slurred, but his eyes still sharp.
 
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" you question back, smirking as you raised your glass. The night was still young, and if you knew anything about the people in this room, it was that they could always handle another round of drinks. But you never had Spencer like this, and he never allowed himself to be so vulnerable with drinking alcohol. So were you really sure he could handle another round of drinks?
 
Spencer hesitated, staring at his drink like it was something from a different world. But then, a slow smile formed on his lips. "Well, I guess if we're both doing questionable things tonight, I suppose I could join you." He raises his glass to yours and slowly raises it to his lips. In what felt like seconds, the liquid disappeared.
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The evening had quickly turned into a haze of laughter, clinking glasses, and everyone telling increasingly exaggerated stories. Spencer and Morgan's ties were long gone, and it was quite clear that everyone the night had reached its peak when Garcia decided to stand on the coffee table and dramatically recite a version of Romeo and Juliet with a very confused Reid forced to play the role of Romeo. At some point, Morgan drunkenly broke into a dance when one of his "favorite club songs" turned on, blasting from the speaker, which he received tons of criticism from Prentiss on. Rossi sat back, watching the spectacle unfold with a smirk on his face.
 
But as the night got older, the energy in the room began to wane. The champagne and wine had clearly done their work, and now basically everyone was drunk out of their minds, groaning in exhaustion. JJ was leaning against Will, slowly nodding off, while Hotch, looking slightly tired, kept checking the time on his phone. It was way past midnight, which meant the new year had already come around, and it wasn't long before the decision was made that it was time to go home.
 
"I think I'll call it a night, everyone," Hotch said, his words slow as he got up from his seat, groaning slightly.
 
"Agreed, get out of my house," Rossi replied, smirking slightly. "I'm getting way too old for this."
 
Morgan, still grinning but very clearly less steady on his feet, clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, clearly startling Spencer as he flinched.
 
Spencer blinked a few times, trying to completely focus on Morgan and regain his composure. "Yeah... I just need to make sure I don't forget my keys." He fumbled around in his pockets, very clearly confused about the whereabouts of his keys. "I'll be fine. It's just a very... long walk back to my place." He groans.You laugh at his comment, standing up from the couch and helping him gather some of his things.
 
Garcia was already calling an Uber, the sound of her bubbly voice ordering a ride with Morgan in the background. Clearly, the idea sounded good to Spencer, because soon he was on the app ordering himself one. His hand clutched his phone with an almost desperate intensity, his brows furrowed in concentration.
 
"Do you... need help with that?" you asked, your words just a little slower than usual. You both were beyond drunk, and Spencer's face was flushed, his eyes glassy as he stared at the Uber app.
 
"I've got it," he said, his voice more clipped than normal. "I—uh, do I just... wait, Do I need to set a destination first?"
 
You tried not to laugh, but the sight of him furiously tapping on his phone, trying to figure out how he can summon an Uber, was enough to make you let out a hearty laugh. "Spencer, you've gotten an Uber before, right? You don't need to give them a whole speech on how to get you home," you said as he started to type a long paragraph in the 'extra details' section, basically giving the driver a shorter way to get him home, forgetting they have Google Maps.
 
"Right, of course." His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he looked over at you. "Okay, well, it's on the way..."
 
"Good," you lean against the doorframe for support, already starting to feel the warmth of the alcohol take over your body completely and start to cloud your thoughts.
 
"Can I come with you? I don't think me going home alone with an unknown driver this late at night is a great idea," you say to him, saying your words without completely thinking them through at first. Did you seriously just ask if you could spend the night at Spencer's place?
 
"Yeah, sure... that's fine." He answered, leaning against a wall, breathing heavily. Clearly, this was his first time being as drunk as he is now.
 
The Uber arrived soon after, and after saying goodbye to everybody, you both made your way outside, barely noticing the crispness of the air against your skin as you both climbed into the back seat. You settled into the leather seats, and Spencer quickly buckled his seatbelt, though he wasn't quite as smooth with his movements as he usually was. You did the same, your fingers fumbling to find the buckle for a couple of seconds.
 
As the car started to move, a comfortable silence fell between you two, only broken by the faint hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the wheels. The lights from the city blared into the window, making you squint your eyes and turn away from the window.
 
"So..." you smirked as you began to speak quietly. "Do you always drink this much at parties?"
 
Spencer shifted in his seat at the comment. He didn't meet your gaze right away, but after a second, he shrugged. "Not usually. I don't know, I just... for some reason it felt different tonight. I didn't really want to be that guy who spends the whole night hiding in the corner, not enjoying himself."
 
"Well, you sure didn't hide tonight." You teased, your tone a little more playful than intended.
 
He chuckled, and you could tell he was relaxed—more relaxed than you'd seen him in a long time. Maybe ever, actually. It was strange seeing it act so... human. It wasn't often you witnessed that.
 
"I guess I was," he said, his smile a bit lopsided now. "I think I needed that more than I realized."
 
You nod, agreeing with him silently. "You know, you're actually quite fun when you let loose," you said, the feeling of the alcohol kicking in more with each passing second.
 
Spencer's gaze locked with yours for a quick second before he quickly looked away. "Yeah?" His cheeks flash red once again. "I've been told I'm too uptight."
 
"Don't listen to whoever says that," you replied almost too quickly. "You're just being you, and that's a nice trait to have." You faced him fully, your voice lowering as you continued to speak. "But... I do like this side of you."
 
His lips parted, a bit taken aback, but he recovered quickly, a soft laugh escaping him. "Maybe the alcohol is really taking in, but... thanks. I think I might also like this side of me too."
 
You smiled, everything feeling just a bit hazy, but the sincerity in Spencer's voice made your heart skip a beat. Before either of you could continue to speak, the car rolled to a stop in front of Spencer's apartment building.
 
You both thanked the Uber driver, then climbed out of the car. The cool night air hit both your faces, and then you realized just how unsteady you were on your feet. Spencer quickly steadied you, his hands gripping your waist to support you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice suddenly becoming serious again.
 
You nod, blushing heavily at his hand placement. Your thoughts wandered, and he raised an eyebrow, confused by your zoning out. He snapped a finger, and you snapped back to reality. "Yeah, yeah... One step at a time, right?"
 
Spencer smiles, continuing to hold onto you. "One step at a time."
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Eventually, you both make it to his apartment door, and he's still holding you up, making sure you don't fall.
 
He leans to flick up the light switch, trying to have as minimal movement as possible. When the light hits his face, you observe his features. His cheeks were flushed, his lips plump and parted, and his eyes slightly watery. Your drunken mind was in awe, finding him completely and utterly breathtaking. Why though? You never had before...
 
He looks down at you, smiling a bit before guiding you over to his couch. You both sit down, his legs stretched out in front of him. You kick your heels off, finally feeling the freedom of what felt like bricks taken off your feet.
 
A few minutes go by, the silence becoming unnoticeable. He starts to speak; his words are still slurred but sharp. "You know... I've always found it fascinating how people underestimate the power of silence. Not just the absence of sound, but... the weight of it. Do you ever think about that?"
 
You laugh softly at his words, finding his brain process oddly fascinating. If you were sober, you generally wouldn't be interested in his new weird random topic, but this time you were.
 
"You're drunk, Spencer. You're talking about silence like it's some kind of breathtaking quantum physics thingy." You reply, looking up at him with your eyebrows raised.
 
"It is!" he argues, furrowing his eyebrows. "But you're right. I probably shouldn't try to sound profound when I've had at least, like, 1 glass of champagne and 3 glasses of wine," he says, puffing up his cheeks.
 
You glance up at him again, a warm smile spreading across your face. His eyes, the look a little too soft tonight, and it's driving you nuts, making your heart flutter like crazy.
 
"Don't worry, you're smarter than me regardless. Even when you're drunk out of your mind."
 
Spencer's gaze softens, his eyes locking with yours for a moment that felt like forever. He shifts a bit closer to you, trying not to make it noticeable. But oh... it is.
 
"You think I'm smart? and... not annoying?" He asks, his voice quieter, as if the question had more meaning than it should.
 
"Of course I do. You're literally brilliant." You say it without hesitation, almost like a reflex, and it catches him off guard for a second. But seriously, what kind of question is that? He had an IQ of 187 and could read 20,000 words per minute. He's quite literally a genius.
 
Spencer's lips curl into a smile, and he tilts his head to look at you. He studies your face, with a curious, almost vulnerable look in his eyes.
 
"You know, nobody ever really says that often unless they're teasing me. Sometimes I just wonder if I actually make sense to people, or if I just ramble everyone's ears off." You continue to smile, and for a second, Spencer feels like your eyes are literally twinkling at him.
 
"You ramble. But you make sense. You always do." You reassure him, but the atmosphere starts to feel heavier as you continue to compliment him.
 
He shifts again, and now his body is just a few inches away from yours. You feel the heat radiating off of him, and suddenly you feel hyper-aware of everything happening between you two. His hand brushes against your arm for a second, but he doesn't immediately pull back, his touch lingering. You gulp, his touch sending flutters down your chest.
 
He begins to speak again, but somehow softer than before. How is it even possible? "I'm glad you think that. Not many people allow themselves to tell me that or just think that in general." He pauses for a second, "You mean a lot to me, you know? More than I let on..."
 
After he says this, the air feels thicker, charged with unspoken tension. You look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and this time, the air feels anything but heavy and awkward. Instead, it's full of possibilities.
 
Without thinking first, you lean in just a bit, your breath starting to mingle with his. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. He brings his hand up to the side of your face, as if he's waiting for you to make the first move.
 
You whisper, "You mean a lot to me, too." And in one swift motion, his lips meet yours—soft at first. As if something inside of him shifts suddenly, the kiss deepens, the closeness overwhelming you both.
 
You pull away for a second, catching your breath. Spencer lets an overwhelmed whimper slip from his lips, and he looks at you with puppy eyes.
 
This drives you absolutely mad.
 
You lunge for his lips, grabbing his face and pulling him into it deeper. You pull him closer, shifting your body to straddle his lap, your skirt riding up your legs. He whines; feeling your body on top of him makes him feel so vulnerable, and he likes it.
 
You continue to kiss him, skillfully unbuttoning his shirt as you do so. You pull it off his arms, and you pull away from him, pulling off your shirt in one swift motion. You then go in to kiss his collarbone, and that makes him unwillingly gasp. When you start to bite on his skin, that almost makes Spencer scream.
 
The erection in his pants didn't go unnoticed anymore the more horny you got for him, and you start to shift your hips on top of him, feeling it through your underwear. And at this point, your pussy was throbbing.
 
 
"I... I need you..." He mumbles, throwing his head back.
 
"Speak up, baby. You need what?" You tease him. He looks back up at you, feeling defeated as you make him say it again.
 
"I need you!" He whines, and that makes you raise an eyebrow in amusement. You liked seeing him like this. Drunk and overwhelmed with pleasure, messy hair and slick, wet lips.
 
You lift yourself up onto your knees, quickly unzipping his pants and then pulling down his boxers. His hard cock sprung out, pre-cum already coating the tip. You look down at him, smirking as you pull your underwear to the side, your pussy throbbing, begging for touch.
 
You take his cock in hand, stroking it a few times, making him gasp in pleasure. "Ah—Y/N..." He lets out, barely able to form words, just a mess of sounds of please.
 
You smirk, groaning as you guide the tip of his cock to your pussy, rocking your hips back and forth as the tip rubs against you. You moan, throwing your own head back as much as you could.
 
Eventually, you slowly slide his cock into your pussy, slowly starting to bounce up and down. You speed up, and Spencer starts to breathe heavily, you both becoming a moaning mess.
 
He begins to rock his hips with you, "God, you're so perfect like this, Spence." You let out, your voice cracking between words as you try to praise him. Your fingers began to bury in his hair, pulling it slightly as you continued to bounce up and down on his cock.
 
"Y/N... I'm— I'm close..." He whines, holding onto your shoulders as you continue to ride him.
 
"Yes! Please, yes, Spencer... come inside me!" You moan loudly, chasing your high as well. This was enough to completely drive him over the edge.
 
Spencer came hard, his legs shaking as his hips pressed against your skin as he moaned loudly. You press your head into his chest, feeling pleasure take over your body as you also reach the edge, mingling your moans together.
 
Eventually, he pulls out, and you collapse onto the side of his couch, breathing heavily. You look over to the side, where Spencer is still breathing heavily, completely overwhelmed with the whole situation.
 
"Damn, Spencer... you're weak." You say, chuckling as you try to make it less awkward than it already was.
 
"Oh, shut up."
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illbegottenfaith · 1 day ago
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walking away with your kiss on my cheek...
your relationship with theo starts to sour as you begin to suspect him of keeping secrets from you (theo nott x reader)
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a/n - first part of a two-shot I've written! Ngl this thing has gone through wayyy too many drafts and revisions so it’s barely an u healthy relationship, more like unhealthy coping mechanisms, but I have a couple of slightly more intense takes on the trope lined up as well :)
tropes/warnings - mildly (veryyy mildly) toxic/unhealthy relationship descriptions, established relationship, mentions of infidelity, miscommunication, angst
word count - 1.9k
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When it came to love languages, Theodore Nott’s was distance. Many of his past relationships had failed once he'd deemed them too suffocating. Nobody had suited him quite like you did. The two of you had somehow stumbled into a mutual understanding of what you wanted out of a relationship. Some considered what you shared too casual to be considered a relationship. You had your separate schedules and commitments, and in your downtime, you kept one another company.
But it worked for the two of you. The best relationships are built between people on the same page, and your perfectly aligned perspectives made the little time you spent together that much sweeter. In fact, things had been going along swimmingly until Katherine entered the picture.
She, or at least the idea of her, entered your life one foggy morning. You were dead on your feet. The aconite you had been tending to as part of your Herbology project demanded your every waking moment outside of your classes. You were just about to fall asleep into your soft-looking, pillowy scrambled eggs when Ivy half-yelled into your ear, as she was prone to doing.
"Didn't know Theo got a new girlfriend!"
Your head snapped up and you groaned. Okay, maybe she wasn't yelling as much as everything sounded ten times louder with that throbbing behind your right temple. You blinked blearily at your friend.
"Huh?"
"Someone's been spending an awful lot of time with Katherine."
It took you a moment to register that you had no idea who Ivy was talking about.
"Katherine Sawyer," she repeated. "Theo's been getting pretty cosy with her, hasn't he?"
Something must have shown on your face, because she immediately dropped the suggestive lilt to her voice.
"I mean - I'm only kidding. It's just that I saw them in the library again last night for, like, the third time this week. I thought you knew." She peered closer at your dark eye bags. "Damn. Are you getting any sleep?"
You shook yourself out of the shock and gave a small smile. "Of course I knew," you lied. If being with Theo had taught you anything, it was how to lie convincingly. "I'm exhausted, that's all."
"Yeah, you look it," Ivy agreed sympathetically. "But really, I was kidding. It's not like he'd do anything. Not Theo."
"Right." You smoothly changed the subject. "So how's your project coming along?"
Still, it bothered you for the rest of the day. Why hadn't he told you about Katherine? He knew you weren't the jealous type, especially when it came to perfectly innocent interactions with the opposite sex. Unless there was a reason for him to keep it from you. You had thought that neither of you was the type to keep secrets from the other, but maybe you had thought wrong. And if he hadn't told you about Katherine, well, what else was he not telling you about?
You dismissed the thought. You were too sleep-deprived for this. It just wasn't like him. Theo would never pursue another girl, not while he already had one on his arm.
Right?
These thoughts were still circulating in your head when you found him reading in the Slytherin common room that evening. You approached him as you always did, but something about what Ivy had said that morning made you hesitate. He didn't look up from his well-worn copy of The Divine Comedy in the original Italian until he felt you sink into the couch beside him. He gave you a strange look before pulling you into his lap, nestling his head in the crook of your neck, the way the two of you usually curled up together when one of you was reading.
"Don't be going shy on me now," he teased lightly. You shushed him, tapping the paperback. As you settled your head on his shoulder, he glanced at your face. "You look tired," he noted quietly. You pulled a face.
"Who knew aconite could be such a bitch?"
Theo turned the page. "I knew. I'd say I told you so, but - ow."
You had sharply tugged at the short hairs at the nape of his neck as a warning. You laughed softly as you ran a soothing thumb over the mildly irritated skin, kissing it better. It was moments like these that made it difficult to harbor any sort of suspicion or resentment towards your boyfriend. As moody and mysterious as he liked to come off, to you he was an open book.
But he still hadn't told you about Katherine.
A few weeks later, Theo and a few others were about to leave for a two-week cultural exchange trip to Durmstrang's. Ivy had dragged you down to the Great Hall where everyone was saying their goodbyes, before disappearing into the crowd in search of Ivan.
Somewhat reluctantly, you walked up to your own boyfriend. Between his trip preparations and your Herbology project, the two of you hadn’t had a minute together for the past week and a half, a new record, even for a relationship as casual as yours.
“Got everything?”
Theo nodded. In his soft, fitted navy blue sweatshirt pushed halfway up his forearms, he looked effortlessly put together. You weren’t scruffy yourself, either. That was why you had any kind of relationship at all, wasn’t it? The two of you made an attractive couple, at least when you acted like one.
You looked over at Ivy, whose boyfriend was humoring a much sappier farewell than yours and Theo's. Scratch that, Ivan lived for Ivy's oddities and eccentricities. Right now, Ivy was kicking a fuss over a fortnight being simply too long of a time to be apart while Ivan promised to call every single night. Occasionally, you had wondered what it would feel like to be in a relationship like theirs, where two weeks apart would be nothing short of agony rather than routine.
As you turned back, you noticed Theo had been following your gaze. He cleared his throat delicately.
"So...two weeks."
"Mhm." You weren't the type of couple to explicitly express affection, especially of the vulnerable kind. You'd miss him, of course, even if you didn't say it. Would he miss you? You shook your head internally. No, you decided, you wouldn't ask. You'd only seem clingy and that wasn't the kind of couple you were. "Be good, have fun."
He adjusted the strap of his duffle bag. You fixed the collar of his jacket. You wondered if he'd tell you about Katherine before he left. From somewhere else in the Great Hall, one of his friends called him over. He pressed a final chaste kiss to your cheek. You watched him walk away with a hollow sort of feeling in your stomach. Merlin forbid you express any kind of attachment to your boyfriend.
He glanced back at you one last time, fidgeting with the strap of his bag, and just like that, he was gone.
Gone.
He didn't say a word about Katherine.
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As the two weeks crawled by achingly slow, you tried to convince yourself that you didn't feel the lack of Theo. You had gone longer without talking to him. Hell, before you started dating, you'd only occasionally meet through mutual friends.
But you had never spent time apart feeling this acrid bitterness towards him.
Unbeknownst to you, your friends had picked up on your frutration, especially in the way you had thrown yourself into your work with renewed vigour, doing your best to keep conversations from straying to topics related to Theo.
"I'm going to the owlery to check for letters from Ivan," Ivy was saying one evening, pulling a woollen hat onto her head. "Wanna come with?"
You barely spared her a glance, writing carefully. "Can't. I have this essay to finish."
Ivy deflated visibly. "Don't you want to see if you have anything from Theo?”
You shrugged. You couldn’t be disappointed if you didn’t expect anything.
“Have you heard from him at all?” Ivy pressed.
You gave her a warning look. “Ivy. Stay out of it.”
“Come on, Y/N. Why don’t you call him? I'm sure he misses you."
You laughed derisively, nearly stabbing a hole in the parchment. You might have done that any other time, but you were too mad about his imaginary affair with Katherine.
“Miss me? Theo doesn’t miss me.”
“How can you be so sure? You don’t know what he’s-“
“Because if he missed me,” you finally snapped, "he’d call. Or send me an owl. But he hasn't, alright? He hasn't called and I haven't gone to the owlery because no one's missing anybody. He's doing perfectly fine without me, just as I'm doing perfectly fine without him."
No one's missing anybody.
Tears prickled behind your eyes. You stubbornly watched Ivy turn blurrier and blurrier as you failed to blink them back. Your gaze landed on your essay, and the spots where your tears had caused the ink to run. Your essay was ruined.
You pressed a trembling hand to your eyes as you finally caved in, a pair of warm, comforting hands almost immediately coming to rest on your shaking shoulders. As miserable as you had been, you hadn't acknowledged the pain, let alone how it was eating away at you. Once you started crying, it was as though you didn't know how to stop.
“Why won’t he call, Ivy?” you choked out. "Doesn't he think about me?"
"Of course he does," Ivy soothed. "He's probably just insanely busy."
You sniffled. "How busy can a person be? One phone call, one letter, anything - is that really too much to ask?"
Ivy hesitated. The silence stretched out between you like the confirmation of a truth neither of you wanted to admit. She said it anyway.
“Maybe he thinks you don’t need that from him."
You laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Well, he got that part right.”
You sounded ridiculous even to your own ears. It was a testament to your friendship that Ivy didn’t try to argue with you. She gave your shoulder one last squeeze before standing, her footsteps soft as she made her way to the door. “I’m going to the owlery,” she said, lingering for a moment. “If there’s anything for you -"
"- burn it."
" - I’ll bring it back.”
You focused on the ruined essay in front of you. Messy smudges had formed where your tears had fallen. It was beyond repair, much like the knot in your chest that no amount of rationalising seemed to untangle.
As the door closed behind Ivy, an unbearable silence descended upon your dorm. You pressed your hands against your temples, willing yourself to stop thinking about him, about how easy it seemed for Theo to carry on without you. Maybe that was the worst part—the inescapable realisation that you weren’t half as essential to him as he was to you.
You stared at the blurred words on the parchment, feeling the ache settle deeper into your chest. There was no scintillating revelation, no blinding eureka moment. Just the quiet, gnawing thought that maybe this was all you’d ever be to him—an afterthought.
And maybe, you thought bitterly, crumpling your essay, you deserved it for letting yourself believe otherwise.
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loucifersbitch · 1 day ago
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Number 44 Cheap for Bucktommy
"You don't get to cheapen what we had."
Tommy says it evenly, a quiet rage burning in his eyes. He's not angry, Buck doesn't think. More hurt than anything else. And isn't that a punch to the gut?
"I'm not saying that, Tommy. Nothing about what we had was cheap. I'm only pointing out that we were obviously in two very different places when it came to how we felt about each other."
"Hm," Tommy hums noncommittally. "I think maybe you should just go, Buck."
Another gut punch. The only reason he's in Tommy's house is to return the box of things that's been sitting next to Buck's front door for more than two months.
"I feel like I'm saying everything wrong here," Buck tries. "I just want to talk to you, Tommy."
"I don't want to talk to you," he says, ending with a heavy sigh. "I can't do this with you."
"Listen, I know you didn't love me the way I love you, but that doesn't mean w-"
"What?"
Buck snaps his jaw shut, puzzled. He tips his head.
"What, 'what?'"
"You think I don't -"
Tommy has started pacing, running rough fingers through his hair as he gets more worked up. Finally he comes to a stop in front of Buck, nearly panting as he meets him head-on.
"I love you so much that it nearly killed me to walk away - almost literally."
"What?!"
"Let me finish," he says calmly. "I love you so much that I had to walk away. I've never felt this way about anyone, and that scares the absolute shit out of me." He laughs humorlessly. "I knew I'd just keep falling more in love with you, and then where would I be? When you finally realized you were settling for the first guy you dated and dumped me to go find someone better, I don't -" he exhales shakily, "- I don't know if I could've survived that. So I walked away while I could still scrape myself off the floor."
Buck is frozen where he stands. He's trying to process everything Tommy just said, and he allows himself the briefest moment to consider that Tommy's right.
Sighing and turning away, Tommy says, "I think I'm just not made to be loved long-term."
That gets Buck to finally unfreeze.
"You dumbass," he says. Tommy turns back to him as his eyebrows shoot up, but Buck ignores the look on his face. "You're just scared. And you're making us both pay for it." He grabs Tommy's arm to stop him from turning away again. "I'm not some kid who's new to love, Tommy. I'm 33. I've been in love before, and I know what it feels like to lose it. But that's not an excuse not to try. And I'm not saying it'll be easy every day, but I want to work at it with you. Especially with you," he emphasizes.
"Evan," Tommy sighs, "I'm not good at any of this. Loving you? That part's easy. But I don't - I don't know how to let myself be loved."
"Okay, well," Buck pulls him closer, and Tommy doesn't resist, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "I think you can learn. You'll have to because I'm gonna love you anyway."
Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase
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jakesimfromstatefarm · 2 days ago
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no doubt ── s. jy (sneak peek!)
↳ summary ── struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.
↳ pairing ── jake x f!reader, [ft. childhoodbestfriend!jungwon, bestfriends!enha]
↳ genre ── idol!jake, friends to lovers!au || fluff, angst, crack
↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── hai everyone, the freaking turmoil & HOLD this fic has on me,,,has me writing til 8AM in the freaking morning because CLEARLY ─ i have unspoken issues . anyways here's a teaser of my recent hyperfixation that i'm sharing with the world. at the rate i'm writing this every night (& morning), it should be out soon (hopefully) :3 also this snippet i decided to include is my attempt at angst...i hope yall enjoy !
also send me an ask/comment if you'd like to be tagged !!! <3
snippet under the cut!!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
“Y/N.” 
His voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled hum of music and laughter seeping from the party you should've escaped from a long time ago. You stop in your tracks, swallowing hard before turning around.  
Jake stands a few feet away, his usual easy confidence replaced by something raw, almost broken. He looks disheveled, his hands clenching at his sides as though they're the only thing anchoring him.  
“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice low but unsteady. 
You stomach twists, but you steel yourself, "What do you want, Jake?"  
You shift your weight and instinctively cross your arms, a defensive barrier between you and the boy you spent too long letting into your heart. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in them makes your resolve falter. 
He takes a hesitant step towards you before exhaling shakily, running a hand through his hair.  
“I—I messed up tonight. I didn’t mean to...," he trails off, his words fumbling, his eyes searching yours in desperation.  
"...to completely ignore me all night? Make me feel like nothing?" You finish for him, your quiet voice breaking despite your attempt to stay composed.  
"No. God, no. You're not nothing," he says quickly, his voice faltering on the last word. "Y/N, you matter so much to me."  
“Well it definitely didn't feel that way,” your voice is barely audible, but you finally look up at him, the hurt bubbling to the surface. “After everything you said—promised, everything we talked about…” 
"I know, I just—" he hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. He takes a tentative step closer, his movements slow and careful, like he's afraid you'll shatter if he gets too close. "I was nervous." 
"It’s been so long, and I didn’t know what to say, how to act. I wanted to get it right—to make it perfect—but instead, I just—" he stops, dragging another frustrated hand through his hair. His eyebrows knit together in that familiar way that once made your heart flutter, but now only adds to the ache in your chest. 
You let out a hollow laugh, the sound foreign even to your own ears, “Well, congratulations, Jake. You managed to mess it up anyway.” 
“Please,” he looks devastated, his hands trembling at his sides. “Y/N, please don’t think I don’t care about you. I do. More than you know. I just—I don't know how to do this. I panicked and I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."  
You look at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you take a shaky breath, “Then why was...why was she all over you tonight? Why didn’t you stop her?” 
He falters, his shoulders slumping under the weight of your question, “It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t—I couldn’t—” 
“You couldn’t,” you echo, the words spilling out in a rush now, each one cutting deeper. “I should've known. Let me guess, she wants to get back together, right?"  
Jake's silence is deafening, and it immediately answers your question. He opens this mouth, but nothing comes out. The way he looks at you—eyes wide and filled with regret, lips trembling as if searching for the right words—confirms everything you’re afraid of. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, a shaky breath escaping your lips—the sound caught somewhere between a sigh of realization and a choked sob. No matter how hard you try, the wall holding back your emotions cracks under the weight of it all. The doubts you've tried so hard to bury suddenly resurface, crashing over you suddenly, each one carrying the sting of every insecurity, every fear you’ve ever had about this moment, about him. Your chest feels tight, your heart splintering under the realization that everything you were afraid of might be true. 
"Jake, I can't do this," you whisper, shaking your head. "I can't be the person you lean on while you try to figure out what you want."  
"No, no—Y/N, I do know what I want," he pleads, his voice cracking as he tries to step closer. "And it’s you. Always been you, Y/N. Everything I said before—I meant it."  
His words hang heavy in the air, the faint echo of the party music filtering through the cracks in the door and into the quiet hallway. You look away, refusing to let him see your tears finally spilling over.  
"You promised," you let out softly. "You promised you wouldn't hurt me. You said you'd prove that I could trust you, that I didn't have to be scared. You knew I was worried, Jake. And you hurt me anyways."  
"And I swear I meant every word I said. I still do," Jake says, his voice desperate. He steps even closer, his hand reaching out and brushing yours, but you pull back before he can close the distance. "You have to believe me. Please, Y/N. You're the only one I care about."  
You shake your head again, the tears now freely slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts, "I don't know if I can believe that anymore, Jake. I wanted to, I really, really did. But tonight..."  
Jake’s face falls, the weight of your pain crashing into him all at once. His lips tremble as he struggles to hold himself together, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. This was the first time seeing you in so long, and this sight of you—broken because of him—cuts deeper than he thought possible. His voice is barely above a whisper, raw and pleading, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I—God, please. Please give me a chance.” 
You look at him—at the boy who's become your safe space —and all you feel is the ache in your heart.  
"I can't do this right now, Jake," you finally let out a deep breath and take a step back. "I think I just need space."  
The words hang in the air like a death sentence. His breath hitches as if your words physically hit him in face, "Y/N..." 
Your phone suddenly buzzes, a text from Jungwon letting you know he's outside. You glance down at it, then back at Jake. For a moment, you hesitate, your heart screaming at you to stay, to give him the chance he's begging for. But your head knows better. 
"I have to go," you murmur softly, turning away before the tears threaten to spill all over again. You force yourself to keep walking, fighting the overwhelming urge to look back—to let him pull you into his arms, where you wished so desperately you belonged.  
Frozen, Jake watches helplessly as you walk away, his chest tightening with every step you take. Everything feels like it's caving in, regret clawing at him the more he sees you walk further away. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—but the words fail him, silenced by the weight of his own mistakes.  
The hallway falls into a haunting silence, broken only by the faint echo of your retreating steps, a cruel reminder of what he's just let slip away.  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
not my usual style of light-hearted crack...but sum of the other parts are still very rom-commy bc im sucker for dat shtuff :3
let me know if you'd like to be tagged !
<3, addie
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le-fruit-de-la-passion · 18 hours ago
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Professor!Viktor Headcanons
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Professor!Viktor who just knows you're not in mechanical engineering 101 to learn anything. Every week you come to class, sit in the front row at the table closest to his desk, and openly stare at him like there's nobody else around you. You rest your cheek in the palm of your hand, with a slight pout of your plump lips, and watch him like a lovesick puppy. You always wear tops that are much too low and skirts that are much too short for university, and he's certain it’s only to check what makes him tick. But if you think that's going to be enough, you're sorely mistaken: there are few people he dislikes more than those who go through school mindlessly, without any intent to study or to give it their all. And you're not the first, nor the last, to try and get his attention like this. So, he ignores you.
Professor!Viktor who is genuinely surprised to see the result of your first class quiz is an A+. A stroke of luck, maybe? But then comes the second quiz, and the third, and the first big assignment, and you ace all of them brilliantly. He can't help a few wayward glances towards you during his lectures, trying to understand how you do it. The button of your dress shirt is pulled so tightly it might give out at any moment, and he can see the colour of your bra without meaning to: a vibrant lavender with pale lace. You're still looking at him with that enamoured look in your eyes, batting your eyelashes, visibly not absorbing a single word he says.
Professor!Viktor who asks you to come by his office after class at the mid-semester, because it's driving him insane. You keep getting the top marks for every single exam, but you never show an inkling of attention in class. All you do is sit there, dumb and pretty, begging him with your eyes to take you right there and then. You probably wouldn't even mind if it was in front of the other students; maybe that's part of whatever steamy fantasy goes through your mind during his lectures. Since last week, you've started ‘accidentally’ letting your pen fall off your desk, bending down at ridiculous angles to show him (and only him) the full expense of your thighs and the thin fabric of your panties. Your lack of subtlety is becoming as outrageous as it is a little endearing. And yes, he would be lying if he said it didn't affect him, that he didn't have frustrating thoughts of you at night. Thoughts he absolutely shouldn't have towards a student of his, no matter how blatantly flirtatious. But the conundrum that you are has managed to crawl under his skin, and he wants to fuck some respect for academia into you. He wants to give you exactly what you've been pleading for for weeks, until you understand exactly why you should have listened to him in class. But he has to know the truth behind your grades, first. If it turns out you've been cheating, then he'll expel you from the course without a second thought. But if you haven't…
Professor!Viktor who makes you sit on a chair in his office, opting to stand in front of you. He had intended it to be intimidating, but it's clearly having the opposite effect with the wanting expression on your face, your lips slightly parted in waiting. He’s certain that with only one word from him, you'd be on your knees and ready to suck his cock. And it's an idea that's getting harder and harder to resist, with that infernal way you always look at him. He thinks it might be the first time he’s heard your voice when you speak up. It sounds as pretty as the rest of you, just asking to be broken down into pants and moans. He’s very disappointed to learn all you've been doing is recording his lessons with your phone, and listening to them again at home. But then, you confess to something else.
Professor!Viktor who is unable to reply immediately, because the thought of you, riding a vibrator as you listen to recordings of him talking about linear algebra, is absolutely maddening. He can't get over the fact that you're so focused on his voice when you fuck yourself on your toys that you manage to remember all of the basics of kinematics for the exams. It's an unorthodox method, without a doubt, but you've proven its efficacity; and who is he to tell you how to best do your studying?
Professor!Viktor who agrees to let you keep audio recording his classes for the rest of the semester, and who promises that if you keep up the string of perfect grades, he’ll let you have the real thing at the end.
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phamapple · 1 day ago
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H.S.K.T
Minjeong could rant about her de taste for the song “H.S.K.T” but that song soon became her most played song when she overheard her crush gushing about it
Warnings; fluff, fem!reader, kissing, quiet x outgoing, music freak reader, lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 5.5k WC
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The hallways of Seoul High School were always filled with the sound of laughter and chatter, but for Y/N, the only sound that truly mattered was music. She lived and breathed it, spending every spare moment listening to her favorite artists, discovering new genres, and even composing her own songs.
Y/N's love for music was infectious, and it wasn't uncommon to see her walking down the hallway with her earbuds in, a look of pure joy on her face. Her friends and classmates had grown accustomed to her musical obsession, and they often joked that she had a soundtrack playing in her head at all times.
But amidst all the chaos and noise of high school life, there was one person who watched Y/N with a quieter, more introspective gaze. Minjeong, a tall and soft-spoken senior, had harbored a secret crush on Y/N for what felt like an eternity.
Minjeong loved the way Y/N's eyes lit up when she talked about music, the way her entire face seemed to come alive with passion and excitement. She loved the way Y/N's hair curled slightly at the edges when she wore her earbuds, and the way her smile could light up an entire room.
For Minjeong, it was more than just a passing infatuation. She had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with Y/N, and she didn't know how to process her emotions, or how to navigate the complex, terrifying landscape of her own heart.
As the new school year began, Minjeong found herself drawn to Y/N more and more, her feelings growing stronger with each passing day. And Y/N, oblivious to the quiet, devoted gaze that followed her everywhere, simply continued to live her life, surrounded by the music that brought her so much joy.
Minjeong rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she sat down at the lunch table with her friend Karina. "I swear, have you heard that trending song by Lee Hi and wonstein ?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
Karina looked up from her phone, a curious expression on her face. "You mean 'H.S.K.T.'?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Minjeong nodded vigorously. "Yes, that's the one! I mean, I get it, the melody is catchy and all, but the lyrics are so repetitive. It's just the same phrase over and over again. I mean, can't they come up with something more original?"
Karina chuckled. "You're just not a fan of rnb, Minjeong," she teased.
Minjeong shook her head. "I'm just saying, there's better music out there. Music that actually means something, you know?"
Just then, Y/N walked by their table, earbuds firmly in place. Minjeong's eyes followed her, a soft smile spreading across her face. She didn't notice Karina watching her, a knowing glint in her eye.
"Minjeong, you're so oblivious," Karina whispered, a grin spreading across her face.
Minjeong turned back to Karina, a questioning look on her face. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Karina just chuckled and shook her head. "Never mind, Minjeong. Just never mind."
As Y/N and her friends sat down at the table next to Minjeong and Karina, Minjeong's breath hitched in her throat. She felt a sudden rush of heat to her cheeks, and she knew she was blushing.
She tried to play it cool, focusing on her lunch and pretending she wasn't aware of Y/N's presence. But it was no use. She could feel Y/N's energy, her infectious enthusiasm, and it was drawing Minjeong in like a magnet.
As she listened, Minjeong heard Y/N start talking to her friend Ryujin about music. Specifically, about the song "H.S.K.T.".
"Oh my gosh, Ryujin, have you heard the new remix of 'H.S.K.T.'?" Y/N asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
Ryujin nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "Yeah, I heard it yesterday! It's so good!"
Y/N squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. "I know, right? I've been listening to it nonstop. I'm totally obsessed!"
Minjeong's eyes widened as she listened to Y/N's enthusiastic rant. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Y/N, the girl she had a crush on, was actually a huge fan of the song Minjeong had just been trashing.
As Y/N continued to gush about the song, Minjeong found herself feeling more and more intrigued. What was it about "H.S.K.T." that Y/N loved so much? Was it really as bad as Minjeong thought, or was there something she was missing?
Minjeong's curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself leaning in, listening more closely to Y/N's conversation. She didn't even realize she was doing it, but Karina noticed, and raised an eyebrow.
"Minjeong, you okay?" Karina whispered, nudging her friend with her elbow.
Minjeong nodded, still listening to Y/N's enthusiastic monologue. "Yeah, I'm fine," she whispered back. "I just...I want to hear more about this song."
Karina grinned, a knowing glint in her eye. "Ooooooooooo," she whispered, teasing Minjeong mercilessly.
Minjeong's face went bright red as she realized she'd been caught. But she couldn't help it. She was intrigued by Y/N's passion, and she wanted to know more.
As soon as Minjeong got home from school, she found herself wandering over to her computer, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She had promised herself she wouldn't give in to her curiosity, but she just couldn't help it.
She typed in the name of the song, "H.S.K.T.", and hesitated for a moment before pressing play. The opening notes filled her room, and Minjeong felt a slight wince at the repetitive lyrics.
But as she listened more closely, something strange happened. The first thing that came to her mind was Y/N - her bright smile, her infectious enthusiasm, her passion for music.
Minjeong couldn't help but smile as she thought about Y/N, and before she knew it, she was tapping her foot along with the beat. The repetitive lyrics didn't seem so annoying anymore, and she found herself singing along to the chorus.
As the song came to an end, Minjeong felt a pang of disappointment. She didn't want it to be over. So she did the only thing she could think of - she pressed play again.
And again.
And again.
Before she knew it, Minjeong had listened to "H.S.K.T." eight times in a row. She was surprised by how much she had grown to love the song, and she knew exactly why.
It was because of Y/N.
As she drifted off to sleep, Minjeong couldn't help but wonder what other songs Y/N loved, and whether she would ever get the chance to share her own musical passions with her crush.
Minjeong sat on her bed, her laptop open in front of her. She was determined to create the perfect playlist for Y/N - a collection of songs that would speak directly to Y/N's heart.
As she scrolled through her music library, Minjeong's mind wandered back to Y/N. She thought about the way Y/N's eyes sparkled when she talked about music, the way her smile could light up an entire room.
Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as she imagined Y/N listening to the playlist, her face lighting up with delight. She pictured Y/N seeking her out, thanking her for the playlist, and maybe even asking her to hang out.
With renewed enthusiasm, Minjeong started adding songs to the playlist. She chose tracks that reminded her of Y/N, songs that captured the essence of Y/N's bubbly personality.
As the playlist grew, Minjeong found herself pouring her heart and soul into it. She added songs that spoke to her own feelings, tracks that conveyed the emotions she couldn't quite express.
Before she knew it, Minjeong had created a playlist that was as much about Y/N as it was about herself. It was a collection of songs that told a story, a story of crushes and music and the power of connection.
Minjeong saved the playlist, a sense of pride and accomplishment washing over her. She knew that she had created something special, something that might just help her connect with Y/N on a deeper level.
Now, all she had to do was work up the courage to give it to Y/N.
Y/N's eyes widened as she scrolled through the playlist Minjeong had given her. She couldn't believe the effort Minjeong had put into creating it - the songs were all perfectly curated, each one speaking to Y/N's musical tastes in a way that felt almost uncanny.
As she listened to the playlist, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. It was clear that Minjeong had put her heart and soul into this playlist, and Y/N was touched by the thoughtfulness.
She looked up to see Minjeong watching her, a nervous expression on her face. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, and for a moment, they just stared at each other.
"Minjeong, this is...wow," Y/N said finally, breaking the silence. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
Minjeong's face lit up with a smile, and Y/N's heart skipped another beat. She felt a flutter in her chest, and suddenly, she was seeing Minjeong in a whole new light.
Y/N's eyes scanned the playlist, and her face lit up with a bright smile. "You even put 'H.S.K.T.'!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.
Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as Y/N's face scrunched up, and she pouted, clearly touched by the gesture. Before Minjeong could react, Y/N had thrown her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.
Minjeong's eyes widened in shock, and she froze, unsure of how to respond. She had dreamed of moments like this, but she never thought they would actually happen. She was about to hug Y/N back, but before she could, Y/N pulled away, her face flushing with embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry I did that," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what came over me."
Minjeong's heart was still racing from the sudden hug, and she felt a pang of disappointment that it had ended so abruptly. But she tried to play it cool, not wanting to make Y/N feel any more awkward than she already did.
"It's okay," Minjeong said, trying to sound casual. "I'm just glad you liked the playlist."
Y/N smiled, looking relieved, and Minjeong's heart skipped another beat. She couldn't help but wonder what had just happened, and whether Y/N's hug had meant something more.
Karina watched the exchange between Minjeong and Y/N with interest, her eyes narrowing as she sensed the tension between them. She had known Minjeong for years, and she could tell when her friend was crushing hard.
As soon as Y/N walked away, Karina pounced, plopping down beside Minjeong on the bench. "Spill," she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Minjeong sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know, Karina. I think I might have misread the situation entirely."
Karina raised an eyebrow. "Misread the situation? You mean, like, you thought Y/N was into you?"
Minjeong nodded, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks. "Yeah. I mean, she hugged me, Karina. Out of nowhere."
Karina's grin grew wider. "That's not out of nowhere, Minjeong. That's a sign. And I'm not just talking about the hug."
Minjeong's eyes locked onto Karina's. "What do you mean?"
Karina leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I mean, Y/N's been watching you, Minjeong. I've seen the way she looks at you. She's interested."
Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as she processed Karina's words. Could it be true? Was Y/N really interested in her?
Karina's advice echoed in Minjeong's mind as she watched Y/N walk down the hallway. She had been waiting for the perfect moment to confess her feelings, and she couldn't let this opportunity slip away.
Minjeong took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She quickened her pace, catching up to Y/N just as she was about to turn a corner.
"Y/N, wait!" Minjeong called out, her voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N turned around, a smile on her face. "Hey, Minjeong! What's up?"
Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as she gazed into Y/N's eyes. She could feel her pulse racing, her palms growing sweaty. This was it – the moment of truth.
But just as Minjeong was about to confess her feelings, Ryujin appeared out of nowhere, a concerned expression on her face.
"Y/N, baby, I'm not sure I'll be able to follow you to that W2E concert," Ryujin said, her voice hesitant. "Maybe you'll find someone else? I'm quite busy with my family on that day."
Y/N's face fell, and Minjeong could see the disappointment in her eyes. She nodded understandingly, but Minjeong could tell she was trying to hide her true feelings.
Ryujin nodded sympathetically before turning to leave. "Sorry again, Y/N! I feel terrible for bailing on you."
As Ryujin walked away, Y/N let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Minjeong's heart went out to her – she could see how much Y/N had been looking forward to the concert.
Without thinking, Minjeong spoke up, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, Y/N, I'll go with you to the concert! I've heard great things about W2E, and I'd love to see them live."
Y/N's face lit up, and she let out a squeal of delight. "Really, Minjeong? You'd do that for me?"
Minjeong nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Of course, Y/N! I'd love to spend time with you."
Y/N's eyes sparkled with gratitude, and she threw her arms around Minjeong in a tight hug. "Thank you so much, Minjeong! You're the best!"
As Y/N bounced up and down, Minjeong couldn't help but laugh. She felt a sense of joy wash over her, and for a moment, she forgot all about her confession.
Y/N pulled back, still grinning from ear to ear. "I'll make sure to get us the best seats! Thanks again, Minjeong – you're a lifesaver!"
With that, Y/N skipped off down the hallway, leaving Minjeong to watch her go with a dreamy sigh. Minjeong's heart was still racing, but it wasn't just from the excitement of confessing her feelings – it was from the sheer joy of making Y/N happy.
As she stood there, a goofy grin spreading across her face, Minjeong realized that she had forgotten all about her confession. She had been so caught up in the moment, so happy to see Y/N smile, that she had let her chance slip away.
But as she turned to walk away, Minjeong couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she would get another chance to confess her feelings to Y/N. And maybe, just maybe, Y/N would feel the same way.
The weekend finally arrived, and Y/N's excitement was palpable. She had been looking forward to the W2E concert all week, and she couldn't wait to share the experience with Minjeong.
As she waited for Minjeong to arrive, Y/N found herself pacing back and forth in her room. She had spent hours getting ready, trying on different outfits and doing her hair and makeup just right.
Just as she was starting to get anxious, Y/N's phone buzzed with a text from Minjeong. "Hey, I'm ready! Maybe we should meet up somewhere?"
Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she read the text. She quickly typed out a response, but before she could hit send, Minjeong sent another text. "Wait, don't worry about meeting up. I'll come pick you up."
Y/N's face lit up with a smile as she read the text. She felt a flutter in her chest at the thought of Minjeong coming to pick her up.
As she waited for Minjeong to arrive, Y/N found herself walking around her room, checking her reflection in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time.
Just as she was starting to get impatient, Y/N heard the sound of a horn outside. She rushed to the window and pulled back the curtain, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Minjeong's car parked outside.
Y/N grabbed her bag and rushed downstairs, flinging open the front door and sliding into the passenger seat of Minjeong's car.
As she settled into her seat, Minjeong turned to her with a bright smile. "OMG, your outfit is so cute!" she exclaimed, her eyes scanning Y/N's outfit.
Y/N's face flushed with pleasure as she thanked Minjeong, feeling a little self-conscious about her outfit. "Nah, yours is better," she said, taking note of Minjeong's outfit. "Mine is just casual wear."
Minjeong laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Casual wear? You look amazing, Y/N! I love the baggy clothes on you."
Y/N's blush deepened as she smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "Thanks, Minjeong. You always know how to make me feel better."
As they pulled away from the curb, Minjeong glanced over at Y/N, her eyes shining with excitement. "I'm so glad we're doing this, Y/N. I've been looking forward to it all week."
Y/N grinned, feeling a sense of excitement wash over her. "Me too, Minjeong. Me too."
As they drove to the concert venue, the two girls chatted excitedly, discussing everything from their favorite W2E songs to their plans for the summer.
The atmosphere in the car was electric, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and excitement. She was so glad she had agreed to go to the concert with Minjeong.
As they pulled up to the venue, Y/N's heart skipped a beat. The line of fans waiting to get in stretched around the block, and the air was electric with excitement.
Minjeong grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready, Y/N?"
Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of anticipation wash over her. "Born ready, Minjeong."
As the concert got underway, Y/N found herself getting more and more into the music. She was singing along to every song, dancing with abandon, and having the time of her life.
But as the crowd around her grew more intense, Y/N started to feel overwhelmed. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people pressing in on her from all sides – it was all starting to feel a bit too much.
Minjeong noticed that Y/N was starting to look a bit frazzled, and she quickly grabbed her hand, pulling her through the crowd to a safer spot near the back.
"Hey, are you okay?" Minjeong asked, her voice loud enough to be heard over the music. "You looked like you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed."
Y/N nodded gratefully, feeling a bit better now that she was out of the crush of the crowd. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just got a bit too much for me."
Minjeong smiled and put a reassuring arm around Y/N's shoulders. "Don't worry, I've got you," she said. "We can stay back here and enjoy the concert from a distance."
Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at Minjeong's thoughtful gesture. She leaned into Minjeong's side, feeling grateful for her friend's support.
As they stood there, watching the concert from a safe distance, Y/N felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She was happy to be here with Minjeong, enjoying the music and each other's company.
And as she glanced over at Minjeong, she couldn't help but notice the way the lights from the stage illuminated her friend's face, making her look even more beautiful than usual.
As the concert went on, Y/N found herself feeling more and more drawn to Minjeong. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something about Minjeong's bright smile and infectious enthusiasm that made Y/N feel happy and alive.
At first, Y/N tried to brush off the feeling, telling herself she was just being silly. But as the night wore on, she couldn't shake the sense that her feelings for Minjeong went beyond friendship.
It wasn't until they were walking out of the venue, the cool night air a welcome relief after the hot and crowded concert hall, that Y/N realized the true extent of her feelings. Minjeong was laughing and chatting with her, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.
She was in love with Minjeong.
The realization hit Y/N like a ton of bricks, leaving her feeling stunned and disoriented. She didn't know what to do or say, so she just stood there, frozen in place, as Minjeong continued to chat and laugh beside her.
Meanwhile, Minjeong was oblivious to the turmoil going on inside Y/N's head. She was too busy basking in the glow of their wonderful night together, feeling grateful and happy that she had gotten to share this experience with her dear friend.
But as they walked to the car, Minjeong couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Y/N seemed a bit quieter than usual, a bit more subdued, and Minjeong wondered if everything was okay.
"Hey, Y/N, are you doing all right?" Minjeong asked, her voice soft with concern. "You seem a bit quiet tonight."
Y/N hesitated, unsure of how to respond. She didn't want to lie to Minjeong, but she wasn't ready to reveal her true feelings either.
"I'm fine, Minjeong," Y/N said finally, forcing a smile onto her face. "Just a bit tired, that's all."
Minjeong looked at her skeptically, but she didn't push the issue. Instead, she just smiled and nodded, her eyes shining with warmth and understanding.
As they drove home, the silence between them was comfortable and companionable. Minjeong chatted occasionally, pointing out landmarks and talking about the concert, but for the most part, they just enjoyed each other's company, the quiet darkness of the night wrapping around them like a warm blanket.
It wasn't until they pulled up in front of Y/N's house, the porch light casting a warm glow over the scene, that Minjeong finally worked up the courage to confess her feelings.
"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Minjeong asked, her voice soft and hesitant.
Y/N looked at her curiously, wondering what Minjeong wanted to say. "Of course, Minjeong," she replied, her heart pounding in her chest.
Minjeong took a deep breath, her eyes locked on Y/N's face. "I just wanted to say thank you," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you for being such an amazing friend, for always being there for me."
Y/N's heart swelled with affection, and she felt a lump form in her throat. "Minjeong, you're an amazing friend too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Minjeong smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "I'm glad we're friends, Y/N," she said. "But I have to be honest with you – my feelings for you go beyond friendship."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she processed Minjeong's words. She had been hoping and dreaming of this moment for so long, and now that it was finally here, she didn't know what to say.
"Minjeong, I –" Y/N started, but Minjeong cut her off, her voice pouring out in a rush.
"I know it may seem sudden, Y/N, but I've been feeling this way for a while now. I was too scared to say anything, but I couldn't keep it inside anymore. I had to tell you, no matter how scared I was."
Y/N's heart went out to Minjeong, and she felt a wave of love and affection wash over her. She knew exactly what Minjeong was feeling – the fear, the uncertainty, the hope.
"Minjeong, I –" Y/N started again, but this time, she was interrupted by her own heart, which was pounding in her chest like a drum.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it was no use. Her feelings for Minjeong were too strong, too overwhelming.
"Minjeong, I feel the same way," Y/N said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
Minjeong's face lit up with joy, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/N's in a soft, gentle kiss. Y/N's heart soared as she felt Minjeong's lips on hers, and she knew in that moment that she was exactly where she was meant to be.
As they pulled back from the kiss, Minjeong's eyes shone with happiness, and Y/N couldn't help but smile back at her. They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other, the tension between them palpable.
"I'm so glad I told you," Minjeong said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was so scared, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."
Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of understanding and connection with Minjeong. "I'm glad you told me too," she said. "I've been feeling the same way, but I was too scared to say anything."
Minjeong's face lit up with a smile, and she reached out, taking Y/N's hand in hers. "I'm so glad we're on the same page," she said, her voice filled with emotion.
As they sat there, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes, Y/N felt a sense of happiness and contentment wash over her. She knew that this was just the beginning of their journey together, and she couldn't wait to see what the future held.
The night air was filled with the sound of crickets and the occasional passing car, but Y/N and Minjeong didn't notice. They were too lost in their own little world, a world of love, happiness, and possibility.
As the night wore on, they talked and laughed, sharing their hopes and dreams with each other. They were no longer just friends; they were something more, something special.
And as they sat there, under the stars, Y/N knew that she had found her soulmate in Minjeong. She was excited to see what the future held for them, and she knew that as long as they were together, everything would be okay.
Sunday morning dawned bright and early, and Y/N woke up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. She stretched out in bed, yawning widely, and reached for her phone to check her messages.
As she scrolled through her social media feeds, Y/N stumbled upon a video of the H.S.K.T challenge that had been making the rounds online. She had seen it before, but this time, something about it caught her eye.
Maybe it was the memory of Minjeong's bright smile and infectious laughter from the night before, but Y/N suddenly felt a strong urge to share the video with her girlfriend. She sent the video to Minjeong, along with a message that read: "Min, would you please do this challenge with me :("
Y/N couldn't help but add a few pleading emojis to the end of the message, hoping to guilt trip Minjeong into agreeing. She knew it was a bit silly, but she couldn't help herself – she was just too excited about the prospect of doing the challenge with her girlfriend.
Minjeong, on the other hand, was not surprised by Y/N's message. She had been expecting something like this, given Y/N's love of challenges and silly videos. And besides, she couldn't say no to Y/N's adorable pleading face, even if it was just a emoji.
"Of course, I'll do it with you!" Minjeong texted back, trying to sound casual despite her growing excitement. "When were you thinking of doing it?"
Y/N's response came almost immediately. "Thanks, Min! We'll do it when we meet up at the park :)"
Minjeong grinned, feeling a thrill of anticipation. She had been looking forward to meeting up with Y/N all day, and now she had something extra to look forward to. She quickly got dressed and ready, her mind racing with thoughts of the challenge and what they would do.
As she headed out the door, Minjeong couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. She had no idea what the challenge would entail, but she was ready to face it head-on with Y/N by her side.
Meanwhile, Y/N was getting ready on her end, her heart racing with excitement. She had always loved doing silly challenges and videos with her friends, and this one promised to be extra special. She was looking forward to spending time with Minjeong, and she knew that this challenge would be a great way to bond and create some unforgettable memories.
As she headed out the door, Y/N felt a sense of anticipation building up inside her. She knew that this day was going to be special, and she couldn't wait to see what the future held for her and Minjeong.
The park was just a short walk away, and Y/N arrived there a few minutes early, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of Minjeong. She spotted her girlfriend walking towards her, a bright smile on her face, and Y/N's heart skipped a beat.
"Hey!" Minjeong called out, waving enthusiastically. "I'm so excited to do this challenge with you!"
Y/N grinned, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness. "Me too!" she replied, holding up her phone. "I've got the video all cued up and ready to go. Let's do this!"
Y/N held up her phone, the video of the H.S.K.T challenge playing on the screen. "Okay, Minjeong, watch closely," she said, demonstrating the dance moves. "It's not too hard, I promise."
Minjeong watched intently, her eyes fixed on the screen. She nodded along, trying to commit the steps to memory.
When Y/N finished demonstrating the dance, Minjeong set her own phone down and stood up, a determined look on her face. "Okay, let's do this!" she exclaimed.
Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. "That's the spirit!" she said, holding out her hand to Minjeong.
Together, the two girls launched into the dance, laughing and spinning to the music. They stumbled over a few of the steps, but they didn't let that stop them. They kept going, their laughter and joy infectious.
As they finished the final step of the dance, Minjeong let out a whoop of excitement and threw her arms around Y/N. The two girls tumbled to the soft grass floor, holding onto each other tightly.
Their laughter erupted into the air, a joyful sound that echoed through the park. They lay there for a moment, holding onto each other, their hearts full of happiness.
Finally, Y/N managed to catch her breath and pause the video. She turned to Minjeong, a smile still plastered on her face. "You're an amazing dancer," she said, her eyes shining with amusement.
Minjeong grinned, her face flushed with excitement. "Thanks to you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she gazed into Minjeong's eyes. She felt a surge of affection and love, and without thinking, she leaned in and gave Minjeong a light kiss on the cheek.
Minjeong's eyes fluttered closed, and she held onto Y/N's waist tightly, her face still flushed with excitement. The two girls lay there for a moment, the only sound their happy sighs and the distant music still playing from Y/N's phone.
It was a moment of pure joy and happiness, a moment that neither of them would ever forget. And as they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, they both knew that their friendship had blossomed into something more – something special, something true, and something that would last a lifetime.
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scarletttries · 15 hours ago
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Baldur's Gate 3 Companions With a Shy GN!Reader...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)
Request: " Can I request for Baldur's Gate 3 companions with shy gender neutral s/o please?"
Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and has been reblogging my Baldur's Gate posts! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more headcanons like this :)
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Astarion:
- At first Astarion would find it hard to reconcile your shyness with his understanding of the way people behave. He would be suspicious of you initially, wondering why you insist on playing your cards so close to your chest. It wouldn't be until you finally warmed up to him and started to talk a bit more that he realised that this quiet tone to you is actually very endearing to him.
- When you two get together he would feel very proud to be the person you speak to the most. Astarion can be a little insecure sometimes so knowing that you choose to talk to him despite being selective with who you speak to would mean a lot to him. It would help him to trust you more too, knowing the the deep bond between you is almost a secret that you would never dare whisper to anyone else.
- Astarion loves being able to communicate with you with just a sly glance or a single whispered word, the two of you often having entire conversations without saying a word to those around you. When you need to talk your way into somewhere Astarion's always happy to do the talking, but he can't help but be impressed with the way you can navigate through a room quiet and unnoticed.
- As a partner Astarion needs more reassurance than he ever likes to show, so knowing that you'll go against your shy instincts to whisper a flirty thought or a sentimental memory to him when he starts to look worn out always boosts his spirits. He didn't know how much he needed someone just like you in his life until you became a core part of it.
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Wyll:
- Wyll never shies away from the public or a spotlight, announcing himself as he enters almost any room, so when he meets someone who prefers to listen to those around them instead of interrupting, he'd become very interested in what you have to say. He'd make the effort to get to know you even if it didn't happen as naturally as sometimes other bonds have come to him, but as he worked to gain your trust and attention he'd never regret a moment of time spent getting you to warm up to him.
- When the two of you are together Wyll will never miss an opportunity to sing your praises, no matter how bashful it makes you! He needs you to know how amazing and appreciated you are, as he can never tell if you fully recognise your own brilliance.
- Wyll falls in love with the way you think before you speak, listening to every part of his story and really considering everything he tells you, never jumping to an assumption as so many people in his life have. He finds your accepting nature makes him a better man, and in return he only grows a deeper fondness for the way you carry yourself.
- As a partner Wyll always needs someone to be there for him, listening and reassuring, and he really finds that partner in you. He's never felt more loved and respected as he does when you give him the time and space to work through his feelings and history, the quiet stillness you bring to his life letting him find a peace he's never known before.
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Gale:
- Gale has spent enough time studying magic at scholarly institutes to have met more than a few shy souls in his past, so when he notices you playing the shrinking violet he knows exactly how to give you all the time and space you need to finally share a bit of yourself with him.
- He knows that the most important things to hear usually come from those who don't speak unless they have something to say, and there's no exception to that in you. He really gives weight to everything you share with him, every opinion you pose, and every compliment you reward him with through flushed cheeks and nervous laughter. It only makes it that much sweeter that you don't dish out such comments absentmindedly.
- Gale also enjoys using a bit of your shyness against you, gaining a certain amount of satisfaction from being overtly flirty in public once the two of you are well into dating. He can't help but smile at the way you shy away from his loud declarations of love and the flirty comments whispered far too loudly across a tavern. His heart practically bursts when you try to hide your face in his hands when he's being far too vocal about how beautiful he finds you in front of the rest of your companions, and not a day goes by that he doesn't remind you of that fact.
- Thankfully he usually waits until you are alone to let his adoration pour out in his gentle words and touches, enjoying that while he can be a brash as he wants in public, he can feel your true appreciation in the quiet you spend alone. His life has held more than one dramatic chapter, so having someone who loves him so sweetly and mutters his name so softly when they praise him really means the world to Gale.
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Shadowheart:
- More than anyone else, Shadowheart can appreciate the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden behind some firmly closed doors. She finds herself drawn to your quiet personality as the rest of the party are a bit boisterous for her taste, often favouring the seat beside you at any given campfire, knowing her boundaries will be respected, and any conversation made will be worthwhile.
- Once you two are together, she sees you as a respite from the endless questions of the outside world. The two of you can spend hours in comfortable silence together, only your interlocking fingers letting the other know you are still there. You give her the space to think through her decisions, but at the same time she knows that if you choose to speak up then she really should consider listening to what you have to say.
- Shadowheart finds herself more able to share pieces of herself with you, as you open up at the same gradual pace that she does. You don't rush to tell her everything or bombard her with questions like the others. Instead she'll often finding you waiting outside her tent at first light when she rises, offering her a hand for a quiet stroll through the forest as you softly tell her a tale from your childhood and she tries to imagine herself growing up alongside you, in a sweet version of her life she could almost convince herself is the truth.
- Shadowheart doesn't fully know her past, but with you as her partner, her future finally starts to come into focus, all because of you.
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Karlach:
- Karlach has been loud and brash since the moment she could speak, so at first she thinks your shy demeanour is a sign of rejection of her friendship. It's disappointing that you don't want to talk to her, but she's not sensitive enough to worry about what every single person thinks of her. It would be endlessly frustrating to you that you have to really put yourself out there, making every effort to be by her side and forcing yourself to respond to her every remark to try and let her know you really do like her. In the end you'd just have to ask her to dance at a celebration with the rest of the group, and when she laughs and says she thought you didn't like her, please prepare yourself to tell her you like her so much that it makes it genuinely hard to talk sometimes.
- Once Karlach understands the concept of shyness and that it is not a personal affront to her, she will be very happy to do all the speaking for both of you. Every journey you take across the lands she will gladly fill the silence with every thought and tale, celebrating loudly every times she manages to make you gasp or laugh along with her.
- Karlach will take a lot of pride in the thought that you like her so much that you are almost rendered speechless, and get quite jealous when she realises you are being shy around other people too. Worried that everyone will be seduced by your strong-silent type behaviour she would definitely insist on holding your hand as much as possible, or loudly shouting across combat that you and her are an item just in case anyone was getting the wrong idea.
- While your personality might have started as a bit of a mystery to Karlach, once you two really know each other she'll come to highly value your way of carrying yourself, learning a few things about protecting herself from undue influences, while keeping herself open to the important people in her life, like you!
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monsters00km · 13 hours ago
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It is definitely on both sides. I was mainly talking from my experience in fandoms. Where a lot of times people who are just enjoying the media are not spreading hate. It's the people who decide to have some sort of take are usually putting something down. And I don't mean in a I'm critiquing the media kinda of way, i mean in full hate kinda way
I don't like or try to interact with anyone who is like x is better than y bc of this. Those posts usually have hatred within it.
As for what you're saying to begin with. I agree. Fully. Characters have limits based on what we are shown. I think what is interesting about Arcane is they push that specific limit with pretty much every character. And the fascinating thing about life is you don't really know how people will react in their moments of greatest dispare. And thats what makes storytelling so hard and complex bc you have to show that it makes sense while also showing how far some will fall.
And that's one of the things I like about Arcane. I think they do that well. They show us who these characters are at their core. And they take that and push the character to an extreme. And show how that core manifests at that point. And it's so real to have that explored in the way of corruption. As in, the characters themselves are acting in a way they believe is right/in a manor they would act. But us as the viewer sees they are not. Bc they have been blinded by grief/rage/despiration/etc. And so they are like a corrupt version of themselves.
And i think it is so interesting for them to also show that sometimes we can pull ourselves out of it. And we will never be the same person again. But we can move forward with who we are.
Also, sorry. I didn't know you were german. Im an American who loves history and who is noticing one to many similarities between pre ww2 Germany and the USA today. I think more Americans should be called that word. But that doesn't mean I should throw it out to anyone. So sorry, my bad.
"Caitlyns redemption arc isn't very good."
Maybe she doesn't have a redemption arc.
May be Arcane isn't about redemption.
May be Arcane is about flawed characters who are neither good nor bad.
May be Arcane is a show that shows us that good people can do horrible things and how our society and the people we have or don't have as support can shape that.
Good people can become horrible. Not because it is innate within them. But because of their life experiences.
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nerdygirlramblings · 8 hours ago
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omegaverse 141
a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂
cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned
previous
In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.
"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.
You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.
"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"
You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.
"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"
You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.
He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.
The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.
Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."
"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"
"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."
Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ya you. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."
You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"
Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.
"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.
"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."
And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.
You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.
next
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euniexenoblade · 3 days ago
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Favorite Movies 2024
I do one of these every year, even though I see less and less of the current releases every year. But, I've been doing it on tumblr since 2012, so it's a tradition and everyone else does it so, why not?
There's a lot of movies I haven't gotten to see yet. Like, as far as I can tell Queer isn't available anywhere even though it's one of those movies I'm sure I'd love. Everyone seems to like The Brutalist, but I don't want to watch a bad cam recording. I don't usually see most non-American movies until the next year. Really excited to see that movie Viet and Nam.
That said, some honorable mentions:
Past Lives was a really beautiful film about a family immigrating to the USA from South Korea and how that affects their daughter and her friend's relationship, not to mention her identity. It's 5/5 for me but it's technically 2023 and it feels more fun to highlight the films I chose.
Perfect Days is a Japanese movie about a guy that works for a toilet cleaning company and it's really a beautiful movie. Like the previous mention the only problem is it's from 2023 and I think it'd be fun to highlight the films I chose.
Conclave is fun! Who would have thought picking the pope was exactly like high school cafeteria drama!
I'm sure no one cares for Speak No Evil, considering this one is an American remake. But, personally I had a lot of fun, James McAvoy is hot and honestly the family deserved it for diving a Tesla.
Drive Away Dolls is a really funny gay comedy. It's not good enough to make a "best of" list, but that doesn't mean it's not worth a watch. In that same respect, Bottoms was really funny. But again, not best of the year worthy, and it's from 2023.
Anyways! The list!
10 - Heretic
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Heretic is one of those edgy pseudo intellectual movies that thinks it's so much smarter than it actually is. And I love it. Do not go into this expecting a horror movie, expect it to be some dude trolling some Mormon girls. Don't take it seriously and just enjoy the ride. It's funnier than it is scary. When the guy compares the Book of Mormon to Monopoly, or compares Jesus Christ to Jar Jar Binks? Hysterical.
9 - Alien: Romulus
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I don't really have anything to add on to the letterboxd review. As a Alien lover, a Xenomorph fucker, and a die hard fan of the series, I really loved the atmosphere in this one. The world building was great. I'm happy we finally got a decent installment, finally.
8 - Challengers
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Again, said most of what I need to up there. Challengers is not the movie you expect it to be. Funny as hell, interesting as hell, melodramatic as fuck.
7 - Will & Harper
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Will & Harper is a breath of fresh air in today's transphobic climate. I didn't expect Will fucking Ferrel to be the trans ally of the year, but damn, he tried his hardest to keep Harper happy even in the darker moments. Will Ferrell's best movie (lol).
6 - Love Lies Bleeding
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This fucking movie is insane. If you want to see a real lesbian crime thriller, this is it y'all. Music is excellent, acting is astounding, and they throw in some fucking curveballs to fuck with you. Underrated cinema.
5 - Monkey Man
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Do you need another reason?
An amazing action flick in a similar vein to John Wick. Brutal, violent, but has so much heart. And we get amazing trans representation. This film looked beautiful, I'd argue only one other film had a visual aesthetic nearly as cool as this in 2024 (it'll come up later). Dev Patel wrote, directed, and starred in this, that's insane. He clearly had so much love for this project and it shows through.
4 - Look Back
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I don't usually put anime movies on this list, but I don't know if I'll do an anime list this year so it has to be included.
From the creator of Chainsaw Man, we get a beautiful movie about friendship and loss. It's genuinely a beautiful piece of art.
3 - Femme
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I'm not adding my letterboxd, it has spoilers in it and I don't want to ruin the ride. Technically a 2023 movie, but it's on John Waters favorite movie list of the year so it fucking counts.
A brutal look at internalized homophobia and the ways we hurt each other in our own communities. I can't recommend it enough, but trigger warnings for homophobia, assault, and abuse. It's really hard to get into the meat and potatoes of this movie without spoiling it. But, it's fucked up and well made.
I loved this movie. It looks so beautiful, the actors inhabit their characters so well it feels like it's all real, a gay horror movie if I've ever seen one.
2 - The People's Joker
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Also technically not 2024, but this is the year everyone got to see it. But, The People's Joker is such a triumph of trans DIY bullshit. Making a movie about a trans woman Joker without the permission of DC sounds so stupid, but it comes together as one of the most interesting pieces of art to come out in the 2020s.
My first experience with this movie was unforgettable. I had no idea it existed, but my girlfriend who worked at a movie theater was like "this movie exists let's go see it!" And I was like, ok that's chill. I was hitting the weed vape so hard before going into this and killed me.
Live action, CGI, animation, this movie is a bizarre amalgamation of styles, built as this weird, indie love letter to Batman. Inside this shell of mixed artforms you find a very basic story about a trans woman finding herself and fighting for the respect of the people around her. And beyond that you can find comedy revolving around Batman lore or comedy revolving around inter community bullshit.
Outstanding movie. Would happily watch it 800 more times.
1 - I Saw The TV Glow
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It couldn't be anything else.
Similar to previous, my movie theater girlfriend got a huge group of people together to go see this. I had seen trailers but I figured it was going to be a normal horror movie in the style of Candle Cove type shenanigans. I was very, very, very, very high when I saw this. Of the 15 or so people (all trans) that saw this, the majority were crying, a few were shell shocked and just left, and I'm there laughing about Phoebe Bridgers in the middle.
I don't think there's anything I can say about this movie that isn't already super well known. A transgender horror story with the message "it's never too late." As frightening, as sad as it is, it's also just the beginning of the story that'll have a happy end.
It's beautiful. Looks beautiful. Great soundtrack that fits the vibe. One of the best movies ever made, honestly.
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overtake · 1 day ago
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I'm really obsessed with your hockey AU and I was thinking if (when) they win the Cup, how do they celebrate their day with the Cup? I mean, if they're still having their relationship in private, they celebrate separately? I was thinking of them choosing correlated days so they could be at the other's celebration easily but I would like to know what do you think about it ♥️
I'm so grateful you're obsessed with it because I cannot get leafs maxiel out of my head. I actually talked about this some with @danifesting before and have many thoughts, so this is going under a read more
The day of the win
When they actually win, Max obviously passes the Cup to Daniel. However, Daniel is very caught up in the emotions and how beautiful Max looked with tears in his pretty eyes after he passed Daniel the Cup and used their raised arms to block his mouth when he said, "I love you" and Daniel said, "I love you too, I'm so proud of you." He does his lap with the Cup and then comes around and gives it right back to Max, who is temporarily very confused but does another lap, and then thinks about how beautiful and right Daniel looked lifting the Cup and gives it right back to Daniel.
This continues for another round before GP intervenes and says "guys, the rest of the team also exists." Max and Daniel aren't even sorry. They're too busy hugging each other and crying.
They get so many photos together and with their families all as one massive group, and people are side-eyeing them.
Max's Cup Day
They do separate days with the Cup. Max brings his to Belgium because he's learning how to belong back in the place he didn't get to be raised. He pays to have a bunch of nearby children's teams meet him and see the Cup and play one big, giant match together, and he announces surprise guest Daniel Ricciardo as the other team's captain. Also, the cats obviously made the journey to be in Belgium and they get put inside the Cup. They are NOT happy about it, but they do look adorable curled up inside there.
Daniel's Cup Day
Daniel brings the Cup to Australia. Hockey isn't big there and they had to make such a journey to get there that when Daniel politely requests two days with the Cup (one to try and grow the game in Australia, another for himself and his family), the keepers of the Cup and league agree.
On day one, way more people than Daniel thinks show up to see the Cup and meet him. People have flown across the country to see him and it, and he realizes all the good he could do for Australian hockey and spur of the moment decides he's going to build a new ice rink in Perth (of course, Max decides to invest too because "think of all the little Daniels the league could have!").
On day two, the camera crew treks out to the farm and shows up expecting to see Daniel's friends and family. They get the shock of their lives when Max opens the front door like he owns the place and invites them inside. Daniel has a party that night for all his loved ones and it's warm and lovely and happy and the camera crew/keepers of the Cup join in on the party like they've known everybody here their whole lives. But during the day, Max and Daniel take the crew on a tour of the farm ... they do dirt bike jumps over the Cup and give the poor keepers a fucking heart attack.
But there's also the night in between, where Max and Daniel get the full night alone with the Cup. They've made a million jokes to each other about what sex acts they're going to do when they get it. But then it's actually in bed with them and they realize the enormity of this thing they've done together. They just hold hands and cry a little and tell each other how proud they are, share stories of all the hard times and all their worst, cruellest thoughts they had toward teammates during playoff losses. They hold nothing back. It's this shared understanding of how much this means to them, and how much more it means that they got to win it together, and there's no embarrassment or judgment or shame, just a new kind of intimacy.
This is also when Daniel tells Max that he's only doing one more season because hockey is so hard on his body, his ankle is acting up, and he wants to be happy and healthy for their future kids. That he's going to stay in Toronto for as long as Max keeps playing, but that Daniel only needs one more season to say a proper goodbye and experience all his lasts with Max there, and then he's ready to be done. He achieved everything he wanted, and he's content now.
Anyway, when these Day With The Cup videos get released, fans are saying "I think this may not be a joke anymore. I think these guys might actually be gay for real. Max is in Australia giving a tour of Daniel's farm like it's his and telling stories of how he named the animals? Daniel was at Max's Cup day? Like what is going on here?" They're still not actually telling people, but some of the less oblivious players who can conceptualize that gay people exist definitely know.
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