yandere-kokeshi · 1 year ago
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Could i please request a Platonic Yandere Peter B. Parker with a reader from a different universe (maybe in their original universe, he's their biodad?)
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Warnings: platonic-yandere behavior
A/N: we love Peter b. Parker. Ty for requesting! Hope you enjoy :]
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He’s shocked, to say the least. He already has his daughter tangled around him as he works with Miguel and the other Spidermen. Plus, taking care of miles is another job. But when Miguel told him about a new Spider-Person, he was intrigued.
But, when he saw you appear at the quarters all sad and lit up when you saw him, though getting disappointed a second later when you saw him holding Mayday, it shattered his heart. Of course, having spider senses and the ability to be understanding, he approached you; feeling bad about your reaction. Furthermore researching and begging Miguel to see what happened in your universe, it made him sad to see you now-distant.
Regardless of what happened in your universe, he’s now always ‘bothering’ you; acting like the dad he once was in your universe. He’s taking you under his wing as he did with Miles. Whatever happened, he’s hoping he can fix it with you, wanting to get to know you better as you did with him in your universe.
You’re welcome into his home at any time, he always makes sure to make extra plates during breakfast and dinner, even if you said the day before you weren’t coming/or had plans.
Peter constantly asks if you have the designed bracelets to let you travel through universes; making you promise you’ll use them safely and appropriately.
And if you don’t? Well, he won’t be mad. Sure, he’s disappointed. But he’s proud that you did something you are also proud of. He’ll even state that he will take the blame if Miguel shows up at the front door.
The whole family adores you. Mayday loves you just as much as her dad. She loves clinging onto you, planting herself onto your head, and playing with your hair (if you’re fine with it!) and sometimes cries whenever she doesn’t see you. MJ always welcomes you with wide and loving arms whenever you come to visit; hugging you tightly when you come through the portal.
Seeing Peter and Mayday happy to see you warms her heart, which escalates to her opening up to you - treating you like one of her own.
Peter always goes out of his way to get things you enjoy, regardless of your whining of ‘I don’t need more things’. If he sees something in a shop, even in the window, he sprints out with more gifts he was supposed to buy and gives them to you the next time he sees you - making sure to add the Mayday participated in the wrapping paper!
He’s quite a chill parent considering he’s taking care of a baby and a teenager. While he’s gonna be watching out for you, making sure you don’t overdo your strength and aren’t damaging stuff; he would hate to get yelled at Miguel for things that are broken.
Peter always makes sure you feel loved, often giving you hugs and affection that you may feel uncertain about. He always reaches out, asking if he can do anything to help you and that you know he’s here to support you.
Though, Peter is quite a touchy person and if you prefer not to be touched and rather be shown affection through gifts, acts of service, or words, he’s happier to do that as his goal is to make sure you feel comfortable and safe in his presence.
Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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dudadragneel · 1 month ago
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Hello, guys! It's me!
Sorry for going MIA again, there's just a lot going on 😅
But hey, another fic for you!
This one was a request from @fairyniceyeah !
I'm sorry this took AGES to be ready and posted....(Insert here Sponge Bob square pants "2000 years later")
also I'm sorry if this request took a certain turn...
STP - Standard Temperature and Pressure
BEHIND THE BEAT
Before becoming an idol, Minho was a professional dancer and a backup dancer for BTS, so dancing was a serious topic for him.
He'd always participate in the creation process of their choreographies and it always had to be perfect. Of course they had fun, but when it was time to get serious, they got really serious.
Whenever they had to spend so much time inside that practice room, dancing for hours on end, they remembered their trainee days.
And those days weren't one bit easy.
They had a choreographer but the one who'd mostly work on the choreographies, work with the boys and guide them through it, was Minho.
And when he entered dance practice mode, he could be as scary as pre-debut Chan. So much so that even Chan would get a little scared sometimes.
It was honestly impressive how attentive to details and mistakes Minho was.
They always wondered "how can a single pair of eyes keep track of movements from seven different people?"
Well, that's just how good of a dancer he was.
It was a tiring job and stressful as well, after all he had to be able to deal with seven different dancing styles and personalities.
Felix and Hyunjin were part of Danceracha so he didn't really worry about those two and they did their best to help Minho to the best of their habilities.
But at the end of the day, if anything went wrong or if things weren't going as smooth as everyone wished, he'd take all the blame to himself.
He had pride on what he did.
If the members weren't getting the moves right, wasn't him a bad teacher?
That's exactly how his mind worked, despite everyone trying to tell him he was doing a perfect job.
This time they were preparing for a really big comeback that would be followed by a tour, which meant: no time to rest, no openings for mistakes.
The boys gathered at JYPE's famous cafeteria to have lunch and discuss some of the things they had to work on.
Chan was explaining how they'd record the tracks, how much time he'd need to work with the members on their parts etc.
On the other side, Minho was also doing the same, planning out how many hours they'd have to practice in a day and such.
They knew it all too well how hectic it got when a comeback was around the corner, and yet, they couldn't keep themselves from already feeling utterly tired. Even if they hadn't done much yet.
Sometimes they'd wonder how in heavens they decided on that career and how it would be to just live a normal life.
But those thoughts would always be replaced with some sort of relief, after all they'd also wonder how it would've been if they never met each other. And that thought alone would make any of them tear up. That was just how much they meant to each other.
After they were done with their lunch, they rested for a little while and went straight to dance practice.
Minho's mind was swimming with ideas for the choreographies and he needed to practice them, he needed to see how the movements inside his mind would be shown in real life.
So the dance practices would usually went like this:
Minho would make the boys stretch long enough so they didn't have any cramps or injured themselves.
And then he'd stand in front of the mirror practicing the moves alone for a moment and sharpening them before gathering the others to teach them.
While he did that, the practice room was utter chaos, the boys were running around or lying down or laughing, just simply being themselves.
And while Minho sometimes wanted to punch them, he'd be lying if he said he didn't like that chaos.
- Ok guys! Come on!
After a while, Minho entered his dance practice mode and gathered everyone to start teaching the dance moves.
Most of the time, the group wouldn't make many mistakes, specially Danceracha and more specifically Minho.
Well, sometimes Felix would get some moves wrong or just not do them as sharp as the others but it was due to his back problem. Everyone always reassured him it wasn't his fault but still he was harsh on himself.
And if Felix punished himself like that, Minho did that to himself a 100 times worse. After all, he was a dancer who became an idol, he was a professional dancer before all this, so in his mind, he couldn't make any mistakes.
Yet, while working on the dances for the impending comeback and tour, the universe just seemed to have some sort of conspiracy against him.
Every so often, he'd miss a step, dance off beat, or even forget a little part of the choreography which was really unusual for him.
The boys were already getting worried, they weren't used to seeing him that much out of control of his own movements.
And he was starting to get stressed, really stressed.
Whereas Chan's anger would make him raise his voice a bit and use a harsher tone, Minho's was a more silent one.
Sometimes he wouldn't even mutter a single word.
There would be just this aura surrounding him and whenever one of the boys would dare approach him, he'd just look them dead in the eye.
Like a tiger looking at its prey.
And that was warning enough for the others to back off. In these type of situations, Chan was the only one who could break through Minho's walls and attempt to understand his feelings and calm him down.
The dance practice continued for another hour and so did Minho's mistakes.
"Fuck!"
"Why is nothing going right today?"
He thought to himself.
Not once, not even once he managed to dance the entire routine without making a few, as he'd say, dumb mistakes.
Their choreographer didn't know what was going on. Hell, not even himself was understanding what was happening to him.
Minho was getting progressively stressed and angry. He was acting the same way he acted when he was mad at his stage outfits.
Chan and the boys knew exactly where this was going.
The choreographer called for a quick break so that everyone could catch their breath and Chan took this opportunity to try and talk to Minho, and hopefully understand what was going on.
Minho sat down on the couch, throwing his beanie and cursing.
Oh, he was beyond angry. He was fuming.
Chan sat beside him in silence. Analyzing the situation, the leader understood that trying to get him to say something might worsen the situation.
If Minho needed to say something, he would, if not, Chan wouldn't push him into doing so.
- Damn it! Sorry, hyung.
He immediately apologized for cursing in front of his leader.
And Chan saw that as an opportunity to speak to him, careful not to get him more stressed.
- Is everything okay?
Chan asked with such a gentle tone that Minho almost broke down in sobs.
- Yeah, I'm fine.
He answered, a bit colder than he wanted, but he wasnt in control of his body, let alone his mind.
- Okay.
For a moment Minho thought he hurt Chan's feelings since the leader gave a short answer. He'd even risk saying it was just as cold as his.
But maybe it was just his mind, getting annoyed by the littlest thing.
The fact is, deep down inside, he wished Chan would've insist on asking because part of him wanted to tell someone how he was feeling, if he managed to understand what exactly was it.
The other part, the proud one, didn't want to admit that he wasn't okay. It seemed like this part wanted to show the others and himself, that he could handle things on his own, just like Chan.
And he did manage to deal with things on his own a lot of times but he had already asked for help on a few occasions.
Why didn't he want to seek help now?
He didn't know.
His thoughts were starting to eat him from the inside.
And then, the break was over.
In STP, Minho would be happy to resume dancing. But this time, he was stuck between wanting to dance and make up for his mistakes or not dance at all afraid of keep on making mistakes.
Honestly? It had been some time since the last time his mind took over like this.
And he wasn't liking it, not one bit.
To add to his stress and frustration, his whole body was starting to ache and a weird feeling had settled in his stomach a while ago. But he was so frustrated that he didn't even notice.
Great. Now he had to dance afraid of making more mistakes and conscious of the annoying feeling in his stomach.
And just like the beginning of practice, the mistakes just kept coming.
He was so out of tune with his own dancing that he wasn't even able to analyze the other members.
How could he, when he himself wasn't getting the steps right?
He'd just be a hypocrite.
The members however, were getting really worried seeing Minho like that.
Each time they made a mistake, they looked at Minho, waiting for a correction or something but nothing.
And now Minho was feeling even worse than before.
He felt like his body was about to crumble, his vision was kinda blurry and his mind, oh his mind. It was corrupting him from the inside.
At the same time he couldn't exactly see the members properly, it seemed like he could sense everything inside the room.
And he felt like everyone's gaze were locked on him, piercing through his body, as if criticizing him from head to toe.
Members, choreographers, staff, everyone.
And in fact, they were, but not the way he imagined.
They were looking at him concerned, trying to understand what was happening to him.
Practice went on and so did the mistakes. At some point the choreographer questioned him what was happening but he couldn't really answer so he just muttered an excuse.
Although they had a good relationship with their staff, Chan would get angry at them if he thought they were pushing the members into talking or admitting something or just making them uncomfortable.
And Chan felt something building inside him.
The choreographer didn't use a harsh tone nor was he reprimanding Minho, but Chan since sensing something was wrong with his dongsaeng, he became overprotective.
Changbin noticed Chan starting to get restless and discreetly talked to him, whispering so no one would hear him.
- Hyung.
The younger rapper said, touching Chan's shoulder and bringing him back to reality.
- I know what you're thinking. We noticed Minho-hyung is acting strange. But the choreographer is talking to him normally. Please don't get worked up.
- I know, I know.
Chan sighed and then took deep breaths to calm himself down before he talked back to the choreographer, who was not at fault, and created a bad situation.
And quiet honestly, he also wasn't at fault. He was just caring and protecting Minho, after all he was his dongsaeng and he was supposed to be a leader.
When the choreographer seemed satisfied with Minho's explanation, if there really was one, he resumed practice one more time.
By now it was agonizing to keep dancing. Not only was he not getting the steps right at all, he was also slowing down the others, making practice last way longer.
Minho was feeling so utterly frustrated at himself that the last thin line of focus he had, was completely cut off.
His movements became sluggish, he felt his body tingling and his vision was getting more blurry than before.
He just wanted that practice to end. No, the whole day. And start anew the next day.
It was hurting the boys, specially Chan, to see Minho like that. Because he couldn't get through to him earlier and he knew his dongsaeng didn't like to admit to feeling unwell. But this was getting out of hand.
It felt like Minho had been replaced by someone else.
He kept on dancing, like he was on autopilot, still trying to get the steps right.
Then the choreographer called another break.
And that was when everything crumbled.
The others sat down on the ground, some lay down, feeling tired from the last 3 hours of dancing.
Chan, though, kept his gaze focused on Minho.
The younger man stumbled to the side of the room, bracing himself against the wall.
He would dare say he felt like he was about to die.
When the adrenaline started to subside, he became hyper aware of everything he was feeling, both physically and mentally.
He was overcome with guilt of not getting things right and making the others put on an extra amount of unnecessary effort.
His mind was not giving him one moment of peace and neither was his body.
He couldn't breathe properly, he tried to but it felt like there was no oxygen going inside his lungs, as if his chest was being squeezed. His back was heaving up and down, getting faster each passing second.
His whole body felt like jelly and about to shut down, he felt like all his muscles were close to relaxing all at once.
The rapid breathing made him feel incredibly dizzy, his vision was blurring even more than before and he felt unsteady on his feet, thank god for that wall.
And to top it off, his stomach was rebelling against him. Every single emotion he was feeling, was being reflected in his stomach.
It churned and his lunch was sloshing around like a washing machine, he could already taste the bile in his mouth.
He kept his back turned to the others, desperately trying to get a hold of his own body. But it wasn't working.
His breathing was not going back to normal and it made him feel like he was on the verge of a panic attack.
The nausea was overwhelming him and he tried to fight it back, swallowing convulsively and clenching his fists for dear life. He didn't dare move a muscle and he was actually surprised how he hadn't collapsed yet.
Seeing how his state deteriorated quickly when they took this las break, the members were extremely concerned about him. But at the same time they didn't know if trying to get close to him would be a wise idea.
Almost all of them looked at Chan, desperate for a signal from the leader but before he could raise a hand and nod them a "no", one of them was already missing: Hyunjin.
He and Minho bickered all the time but they loved each other and Hyunjin was just as worried as the others.
He got closer to Minho and placed a hand on his sweaty back making him flinch a little and quickly looking up at him and then dropping his head again, already running out of strength to hold his body.
The younger dancer felt his hyung's back heave up and down quickly and how his hands were clenched in such tight fists, he was worried Lee Know was gonna hurt himself.
Minho tried to focus on Hyunjin's hand on his back for dear life, everything was too overwhelming and he felt like he could faint at any minute. Hyunjin's presence was the only thing that was barely keeping him grounded.
- Hyung?
Hyunjin called out, tilting his head a bit so he could see Minho's face, getting no response.
But the older dancer was in such a state that he wasn't even listening Hyunjin's voice, actually, he wasn't even sure he processed it was Hyunjin who was by his side.
He was basically hyperventilating now and his lunch was threatening to make an appearance really soon.
Minho kept his head low, eyes focused on the ground, fists and jaw clenched, swallowing down the rising nausea. And in the midst of it, trying to get his breathing under control.
But it was no use, it was a battle he wasn't gonna win even if he tried.
Hyunjin moved his hand to his hyung's shoulder, squeezing it and trying to bring him back to earth. And he then positioned himself in front of Minho, lowering himself a bit so he could try to meet his gaze.
But that was the wrong move.
The moment Hyunjin appeared in front of Minho was also the moment he lost his battle against his stomach.
He felt liquid rushing up his chest and hitting the back of his throat faster than he could react.
And then he bent down a little further retching a thick stream of vomit that hit the ground with a sickening sound and unfortunately, got on Hyunjin's shoes.
The younger one was shocked at first but quickly recollected himself while the others rushed to them.
Hyunjin stepped back a bit, trying to stay away from the upcoming mess but kept a firm hand on his hyung's back.
Minho vomited another wave that left him breathless and dizzy.
He was about to lose all strength in his body when Chan and Changbin got by his side and grabbed him.
- Don't worry, Minho-ah, we've got you.
Chan reassured as both him and Changbin gently lowered him down.
- Can someone grab a towel? And some water?
Chan asked and then immediately turned his attention to Minho who was still breathing erratically and gagging unproductively.
- It's okay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay.
The leader cooed, rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down while also brushing the hair out of his face, only to reveal trails of tears on his cheeks.
Chan's heart sunk to the ground when he saw that, because it only meant that Minho was dealing with something that was bothering him so much to the point of crying.
And Minho crying was a rare sight.
Chan also knew that he never liked to show his weakness to the others, not even tears, so he didn't say anything.
One of the boys came back with a towel and put it in front of Minho to cover the mess on the floor and prevent it from getting bigger.
He kept on gagging unproductively and it was clear that it was hurting him.
-Hey, it's okay.
Chan then noticed that Minho was holding it in, he knew that throwing up in front of everyone, members and choreographer and, well, on Hyunjin's shoes had left him mortified.
Even if the mess had already been done, he'd rather hold everything in than continue to display how out of control he was.
And Chan knew that.
- Kids, Hyung-nim.
Chan said with a authoritative tone, though very gentle at that.
And the others didn't need any other word to understand what he meant and quickly left the room. Too many people and too much attention would only worsen Minho's condition.
- There we go, Minho-ah. It's just you and me here.
Minho was still fighting against the nausea, even though it was just the two of them inside the room.
Wasn't he being humiliated enough?
He grabbed the fabric of his pants, gripping it with all his force, trying to contain the nausea by swallowing convulsively and taking deep breaths.
- It's okay, Minho-ah. No one is watching you, I'm the only one here, okay? Throw up if you need to, don't hold it in, it'll only make you feel worse.
Chan reassured, running his hand up and down Minho's back, his touch so gentle it was making him start crying again, though silently.
He slowly allowed himself to start relaxing and by doing that, his stomach immediately responded by contracting.
Minho lurched forward, more vomit escaping his lips and soiling the towel the boys had placed on the ground.
- That's it. You're doing good, just let it all out.
Chan said with a gentle voice while rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down and then in circles, feeling how it heaved up and down with each retch.
Another wave came out, even stronger, coming out of his nose as well and hurting his throat in the process.
And feeling the texture of the food in his mouth as well as the tiny pieces in his nose didn't help, it only triggered another wave.
- Hyung....
Minho said with a weak and shaky voice after the bout was over.
- I know, I know. You'll be okay.
The smell of sick seemed to have impregnated in his nose after coming out of it.
He tried blowing it to see if he could get rid of what seemed to be rice and that caused a round of unproductive retches.
Eventually another wave of putrid vomit made its way out and this one left his body shaking from the effort.
And to add to his misery, he managed to choke on a piece of undigested food and started coughing.
- Don't worry, hyung will help you, okay?
Minho didn't even have strength to answer his leader, he just wanted that to be over with.
Chan changed his approach and started to rub Minho's chest, trying to provide comfort and help dislodge what got stuck in his throat.
The dancer kept coughing and gagging, but nothing was coming up and he knew there was more that needed to get out.
He clutched his stomach because it was hurting so much and it wasn't giving him a break.
- Minho-ah, do you think you still have to puke?
Minho nodded weakly.
- Okay, I'll try something but it might be uncomfortable, okay?
Chan moved his hand from Minho's chest to his abdomen, more precisely to the middle and started to massage it, applying a bit of pressure every time.
It seemed to be working because Minho was gagging again and soon it brought up another bout of sick that mixed with the rest in the already soiled towel.
And Chan returned his attention to rubbing his dongsaeng's back, trying to make the ordeal less excruciating.
Minho still puked a few times and it felt like his stomach was determined to turn itself out. Even in his dazed state he was wondering how there was still things in him for him to vomit.
And Chan was getting worried that Minho's stomach was trying to get rid of all the food he ate in the past few weeks.
After about 45 minutes since everything started, Minho was just dry heaving and still gagging a bit. It really looked like his stomach wanted to get rid of itself.
- That's it. You did great.
Chan murmured to him still rubbing his back in soothing circles and his chest as well.
Minho didn't know why but that felt heavenly and comforting, and if he was being really honest to himself, he didn't want Chan to stop it.
- Let's get you away from this mess, okay?
The leader carefully helped Minho to another area in the practice room and sat beside him.
- Hey, can I go and dispose of that towel? Or can I ask someone to come get it?
Minho nodded a weak no.
He didn't want to be alone and he definitely didn't want to be seen.
- That's okay. We'll deal with that later. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Do you wanna try some water?
- mhmm
That was the first sound of his voice Chan heard after that long ordeal.
- Here, rinse out your mouth.
Chan said helping Minho take a sip to just wash his mouth and get rid of the awful taste in his mouth.
- Hey, do you think you can drink a little bit? Just small sips.
Minho hesitated at first but then nodded but he was too out of it and feeling too weak to hold the bottle.
So Chan gently brought it to his lips, tilting it slightly helping him take small sips. And the cold water helped soothe his throat a little bit, even though his stomach wasn't exactly happy about it.
Chan then grabbed a bucket and set it beside Minho so he could rinse his mouth and well, be there just in case.
None of them wanted that room to get any dirtier and they were feeling pretty bad for the staff who'd clean it after.
Chan gently brushed Minho's hair behind his ear to reveal the trails of tears one more time. He also noticed that his face was flushed, most likely due to the embarrassment and his eyes and nose were red from the crying.
He tenderly wiped away a tear that was running down Minho's cheek with his thumb.
- Hey, Minho-ah....do you want to tell me what happened?
He asked with the most gentle tone known to mankind and that broke Minho once more. He started sobbing but he still didn't want to lift his head.
- It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it now. We'll stay here as long as you want, I won't go anywhere.
Chan said reassuring Minho and putting a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze, as if proving his words.
He continued to rub Minho's back in soothing circles as the younger boy continued to cry and for some reason the tears just wouldn't stop falling.
Eventually he started to calm down and the sobs stopped, the only sound was now his sniffing.
Apart from that, the room was completely quiet and like Chan said, he was not gonna pressure Minho into talking, so he stayed silent.
- 'm sorry...
The silence was broken by Minho's weak voice, barely a whisper.
He had his head between his knees, looking at the ground with tears still dropping and creating a small puddle.
- Why are you apologizing, hm?
Chan asked softly, stroking his dongsaeng's hair and patiently waiting for his response.
- Because I messed up....and made you guys practice more than needed....
- There's nothing to apologize for, Minho-ah...
- I couldn't get anything right...no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't concentrate and-
He stopped to catch his breath as he felt his chest tightening, a sign that he was on the verge of a panic attack.
- Hey, hey, take it easy. Breathe. You don't need to rush, okay?
Chan reassured as he grabbed Minho's hand and he instinctively squeezed his in return, trying to ground himself.
- Take deep breaths, slowly.
Minho followed Chan's instructions and started to calm down and continued talking.
- Nothing was working and I couldn't even pay attention to you guys and we're so close to the comeback and the tour, this is not supposed to happen....
- Minho-ah, you don't need to put so much pressure on yourself. And this is coming from a person that does exactly the opposite so I don't think I have much say on the matter hahaha.
Chan joked, earning a weak laugh from the dancer.
- But seriously, don't be so hard on yourself. We all have our "off" days, it's completely normal.
- I know, hyung....but-
He was cut off by a sob and then his mind took control again. It flooded with thoughts of not being able to get the steps right even if he tried his best, missing steps during the actual performance, not being able to pour out his 110% on stage.
It was mortifying.
And before he could even notice, he was already having a panic attack. He was hyperventilating, he couldn't stop crying and those thoughts refused to go away.
- They won't stop coming! Hyung, make it stop...
Minho pleaded between sobs and gasps of air.
- Hey, hey, Minho-ah. I need you to breathe.
Chan said placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back to reality.
- I- I can't--
- Yes, you can. Come on.
Chan was respecting Minho's space to the best of his habilities, but the situation was now escalating and he had to intervene.
He gently lifted Minho's head and turned it towards him, so his dongsaeng was now facing him.
And it took every ounce of strength in his body to keep his composure seeing him like that.
- Look at me. You're gonna breathe with me, okay?
Minho nodded weakly, although unsure if he'd actually be able to.
Chan guided the dancer's hand towards his chest so he could feel his breathing pattern, while holding his other hand.
- You can feel my breathing. It's slow and steady, right? I want you to try and do the same. I know you can do it.
Lee Know tried to but it was just so hard, it felt he was underwater, trying desperately to take in any air but failing. And his mind just kept on repeating the same thoughts over and over again, like a broken record.
He squeezed Chan's hand until his knuckles turned white, his nails almost digging into his hyung's hand, trying to push those thoughts away.
- Keep trying. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need. But I need you to keep trying, keep on focusing on my breathing.
It took some time, but eventually Minho started to regain control over his breathing. He focused on Chan's breathing as the leader instructed and slowly evened his.
His grip on Chan's hand started to loosen up.
- There we go. Feeling a bit more calm now?
Chan asked wiping away the tears from Minho's eyes and cheeks but never letting go of his hand on his chest.
- Yes...
Minho answered weakly, clearly exhausted and embarrassed about everything that happened.
- Do you think you can talk to me about those thoughts?
- I think so....
Although getting a positive answer it was followed by a silent pause, yet Chan didn't insist.
- I just kept thinking that I needed to do well, that I needed to get everything right and help everyone with their dance. And that we have an upcoming comeback and tour and the choreographies need to be completed by then....and nothing seemed to be working....it was like my body was being controlled by those thoughts and I couldn't shut them up. I didn't want to be a burden and I felt like everyone was judging me for making so many mistakes.
It shattered Chan's heart to hear those words coming from Minho.
- No one was judging you, Minho-ah. No one will ever judge you. We knew something was wrong, that's why we were looking at you, we were worried.
Chan reassured him, running a thumb on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.
- I'm sorry...
Minho said with a trembling voice looking down but Chan wasn't having it. He gently lifted his face again.
- Don't apologize. Don't you ever apologize for feeling weak, for feeling stressed, for being human. You hear me?
The younger boy just nodded, not really having any words to say.
He felt exhausted.
- Come here.
Chan said gently pulling Minho closer to him and embracing him in a back hug.
Minho allowed himself to be completely embraced by Chan, resting his head on his hyung's arm and the older kept his breathing steady so Minho could match it.
And they stayed like that, for minutes, in complete silence, the room quiet apart from their breathing.
He was so exhausted from everything that happened that in a few minutes he fell asleep on Chan's embrace, the same safe and warm back hug he secretly loved.
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bisexualcage · 1 year ago
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Half-Truths | Johnny Cage x GN!Reader (Requested)
Pairing: Johnny Cage x Gender Neutral!Reader
Summary: You and your costar Johnny get stuck in a PR (fake) relationship to promote your new film. It’s a bit fluffy & angsty.
Warnings: No warnings, although some sexual insinuations here and there.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: I didn’t proof read a lot so yeah excuse any mistakes
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There was a sense of annoyance you got immediately after receiving word that you’d have to participate in a PR relationship with no other than Johnny Cage. He was annoying— egotistical even, and that’s just what you saw when you were on set. So when your management suggested that it’d benefit the film’s promo to start dating you threw a fit. It was enough spending months with him filming, it was another nightmare pretending to like him in real life. Johnny was all over the idea, immediately jumped on board as attention starved as he was.
“So Cage, there’s been some rumors…circling the webs ya know…”
Johnny smirked and crossed his legs on the seat, knowing exactly what was about to come as he shot you a quick glance. “Oh I know, buddy.” He winked your way before looking back at the interviewer in front of you both. You were both promoting your film and in every interview you found yourself slowly going crazy by the same questions.
“Is it true? Are you both a thing?” The interviewer smiled.
“Oh we’re more than a thing. We’re quite…familiar with one another for a few months now.” He smirked, then playfully bumped your shoulder with his as you sported a flushed expression.
The interviewer then looked at you for confirmation making your eyes roll mentally; “That’s…that’s exactly right.” Your smile.
“Oh babe, I love when you’re shy.” Johnny said suddenly, making you go more red against your wishes.
“Wow, you two are sure hitting it off! I’m happy for you both, I bet your fans are ecstatic Cage.” The interviewer chuckled.
“Hell yeah, they love (name), right honey?”
“Hey- sweetheart, wait up!” Johnny yelled after you when the interview was over, you felt like your face was 50 shades of red and you hated him for making you feel gooey in front of a camera even though it was not real.
“Don’t.” You turned around suddenly and face him, “You embarrassed me. We were just supposed to confirm we were dating, none of that lovey dovey bullshit you pulled.”
There was a loud silence on his part as you finished ranting, a hurt expression of sorts before he shrugged it off and smirked again. “Come on! We gotta sell it. That’s what our management demands— that’s what the fans demand.” He let his hands drop to his thighs.
You scoffed loudly, “A confirmation was enough!”, you were being immature, hiding what you really felt inside.
Johnny laughed now, “Listen sweetheart, you weren’t exactly selling it in the previous interviews so I had to step it up!”
What’s funny is that he was correct, but you wouldn’t admit it. Not now. Not ever probably.
“Whatever, I’m done for the day.” You rubbed your forehead.
The actor raised an eyebrow at you, “You gonna come to the film festival right? Now there, there is a lot of promo to do there in a few days.” He winked.
You groan, “It’s my job unfortunately so of course I’m going-“
“You know, in all the months that we spent together shooting I’ve never known you to be the relaxed type— you’re constantly uptight. Like a little angry chihuahua. Let loose, this’ll be good for us.” He grinned.
“Good for us?” You raise an eyebrow questionably.
Johnny chuckles, “Yes, us…”
“What do you mean by that? Don’t start actually getting feelings on me now.” You cross your arms, a visible warmth up your neck.
“I know I know, it’s our job. Don’t worry, honey.” He nudges your shoulder.
A few days later the film festival came to be, there was actors of all calibers walking around being interviewed and their films being shown on projectors for audiences and critics. There was already a pressure of sorts- professionally and personally. You didn’t consider yourself the best actor in the world but you put your heart in this film— and as much as you hated to admit so did Johnny.
You walk in with professional attire, a carpet on the floor as you walked over it and a bunch of paparazzi started shouting your name and taking pictures. You weren’t used to this, you weren’t Johnny and it made you anxious the more you stood there trying to smile at every direction. Your hands shook slightly and you shoved them in your pockets to hide it.
Suddenly, you hear an uproar of yelling on the other side of the carpet as someone pulled up in a limo and you immediately knew who it was. Johnny, getting out in a dashing suit and tie, his usual shades on his face as he had his hair swayed a bit to the side. A bunch of fans were yelling at him compliments and even inappropriate comments but Johnny lived for that and smiled at them as blew kisses at the fans behind the railings.
“Name! Do you like your boyfriend’s outfit?” A paparazzi yelled as you forgot you were posing on the carpet, you shook your head and gave a simple thumbs up as your fingers kept shaking. You were about to have enough and walk off to the actual event but you felt a hand slide around your waist and pull you back.
“Hey, baby.” Johnny whispered in your ear and winked at you as he held you to his side, his hand softly gripping your waist as the paparazzi went crazy and started flashing their cameras even more. Johnny showed his pearly whites to the cameras all confidently and you looked the opposite, he noticed this as he felt your skin shake under his grip.
“You okay? Come on, let’s go…let’s get you some water.” He slid his hand now to the small on your back and walked your jittery figure out the carpet to the main event.
Inside you were screaming at his unexpected tenderness and for the life of you…you couldn’t figure out if this was part of the PR or not. Regardless, you looked at him with a rare softness. “Thanks…” you said lowly, a warmness on your cheeks.
Johnny chuckles and pats your back now, “If you fainted on the carpet it would been good for the film’s promo.” He said, obviously joking, there was a flash of care under his cocky expression. “Now, where’s that water?” He looked around, a bunch of actors and executives finding their seats for the viewing of your film.
Johnny then grabbed you by the wrist suddenly and dragged you like an excited puppy when he found the bar, “Hey man, give me your best H20 and a whiskey.”
The barman nodded and handed him a water bottle and then handed him his whiskey. Johnny opened the water bottle cap with his mouth, which you found amusing to say the least and then handed it to you; “Drink up, don’t want you pale. I know you ain’t used to these type of huge events like I am.”
“Johnny I’m fine for Christ sake-“ you chug the water, a clear blush on your face.
“Huh oh! Don’t blame a guy for caring you rascal.” He nudges you.
“I’m not saying you can’t…just….” You trail off shyly.
The actor raises an eyebrow, “Just what, sweetness?”
Before you can even formulate a rebuttal the hosts called for all attendees and cast members to get to their seats for the viewing of the film to start. You both found your seats, along with the director of the film and a few other cast members. You were nervous now, critics came from all around to judge and you couldn’t keep your leg from bouncing.
As the lights dimmed and the film started you looked over at a smiley Johnny who has his eyes fixated on the screen— the lights highlighting his face. It was endearing almost, despite his irritating personality sometimes he cared about filmmaking he cared about the craft— he cared about acting. If you counted the amount of times he quizzed you on film trivia back when you were filming on set you’d be a billionaire. He must of noticed your staring because he snapped his head your way and smirked.
“You know, we look good onscreen.” He whispered in your ear.
You chuckle softly, “I hope so. Would hate for a bunch of old men critiquing how bad I look.” You whisper back.
Johnny snorted now, a sparkle in his eyes even though it was pretty dark. Patting your knee briefly and then going back to watch the film. It was as if it was so natural of him to be so touchy with you and you didn’t get it.
As the film comes to an end there was a standing ovation. Rows of people standing up to applaud the film and it made you emotional. Your eyes glassy but you didn’t let any tears fall. Johnny looked over at you and patted your back with a smile, rubbing your back softly. “You’re just as a rockstar as I am.” He mumbled.
“Shut up.” You laugh with a shy smile.
Soon after, there was interviews held. Your whole cast and crew sat in a circle as interviewers asked everyone questions one by one.
“You seem emotional. This is your first time at a film festival right? and you experienced a standing ovation. You were amazing alongside Johnny and you guys had the best chemistry.” An interviewer said your way, the whole cast and crew looking at you, including Johnny who sat next to you.
You chuckle with a blush, “Thank you. Yeah, I was certainly a mess. This is all new for me and I- I really am so grateful for this opportunity.”
The interviewer now turned to Johnny with an excited expression, “Was there an instance on set that made you go…wow, this’ll work. I mean, it was so good you’re both in a relationship now.”
Johnny chuckles, looking over at you briefly; “I guess it was. Although, yeah, there was a moment on set where we were shooting the kissing scene and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why I was shaking like a damn maraca— I’ve kissed so many people. But (name)’s confidence and sternness in getting it done made me more…interested.”
Your face grew warm at his unexpected honesty, even while he said it there was no ounce of cockiness unlike in other interviews. It took you aback to say the least.
“And that’s how it came to be, huh? You were hooked immediately?” The interviewer kept going.
Johnny nods, “Definitely, like a fish to a hook.”
You looked at Johnny with a stunned expression, still not knowing how real he was being about that.
“You look surprised.” The interviewer shot at you.
“Oh- no, I’m just shocked at his information. He…never told me this.” You shifted in your seat as everyone in th room looked your way. “But huh- yeah he never ceases to amaze me.”
There wasn’t much PR work done on both your parts other than being seen in interviews together and some public sightings of you both walking around town, up until the carpet today when he decided to hold your waist. Outside of that everything’s been pure speculation and with Johnny confirming you both “dating” a few days ago, these invading questions were only gonna ramp up in the following weeks. And that was only further proven when the next question smacked your face.
“How’s bedroom time? Is (name) as stern with you in bed as on set?” The interviewer said with a perverted smile.
You didn’t know how to answer when he directed that question at you, everyone in the room slightly gasped and went quiet.
“What?” You whispered at the interviewer, your throat becoming dry.
“I said-“
“Hold your horses. That’s not a very respectful question is it? And most of all none of your damn business.” Johnny’s laid back demeanor was suddenly gone and his jaw clenched slightly. He took his shades off and his brown eyes were staring holes in to him.
“Woah- hold on, I’m just asking questions. I mean, y’all confirmed your relationship recently I’m just scooping a bit-“
“Johnny-“ you tried to intervene.
But Johnny grew colder at the man, “And that gives you the right to be a weirdo?”
Suddenly both of your agents stood up and begged for you both to say your goodbyes and end the interview. Johnny on the other hand wasn’t persuade as easily and ended up asking for the interviewers boss and the company he works for.
“Hey, damn- you sure make a habit of running off!” Johnny ran up behind you as the event came to a close.
You turn around with a stern expression, “Stop…”
“Woah woah woah- what’s wrong?” He whispered, looking around to see if anyone was looking.
You scoff loudly, crossing your arms, “You’re confusing me, you know that?”
Johnny raises an eyebrow, “About?”
“About this whole damn thing. This.” You point and him and yourself. “This damn circus act, it’s gonna drive me insane-“
“Babe, you agreed to this circus act. Come on, you can’t tell me you’re not having a bit fun despite…it’s downs.” He thinks back to the interviewer with a solemn expression.
“Look, I appreciate you sticking up for me. But all you’re doing is confusing the hell out of me with what’s real or not. Sometimes it looks like you mean what you say and do-“
“I do. I can’t keep faking it anymore.” He said with a serious expression, his little smile gone.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“That whole story you told about being nervous when kissing me on set, that was real? Your nice deeds?” You said a bit too loudly because of how shocked you were.
He approaches you more with a tender expression, making you grow warm, “Yes.”
You shake your head rapidly, “Cage, you better not be pulling my leg here…”
“Shut up and come here…” he cupped your jaw with both his hands and pressed his lips firmly against yours.
It was all so sudden that you didn’t even know what was happening at first, you eventually reciprocated with a blush on your face. When he felt you reciprocating he let out a sigh of relief against your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth and rubbing it against yours, he then pulled back softly as he rested his forehead against yours.
“Cat got your tongue, honey?” He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.
“You’re crazy you know that?” You smile warmly, “god you drive me insane…”
“Tell me, was this better than the kiss we had on set?” He smirked, looking down at your lips.
“It’s definitely an upgrade.” You look at his eyes softly.
Johnny smiled softly, bringing you in for an embrace, his mouth against your ear; “These weeks have been hell- pretending to be with you, making up stories and none of them being real. I want it to be real.”
It was a completely different version of him you’ve never seen, unusually very vulnerable and real.
“You know, I never really hated you. I was trying to…push my feelings away— thinking that it’d prevent me from liking you.” You said truthfully, looking in to his eyes.
“Oh I know that sweetheart, thats why I kept being specially annoying with the PR cause I knew you liked me— could see it from a mile away.” His smirk came back on his face, “I mean, who could resist this?”
“Cage…” You slap his shoulder playfully.
“Smack me like that again and we’re gonna end up in completely different circumstances.” He whispered in your ear.
“Oh yeah? You’re already thinking about that?”
Johnny kisses your jawline, taking in your smell, “Well, we are an item now are we not? No PR, no bs anymore babe.”
“Thank god, Hollywood.”
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fraugwinska · 6 months ago
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PrideRing and Prejudice Collaboration
Folks - this is an event long in the making, and I'm so excited it's finally time!!! 💜 The amazing @bapple117 and all the other talented artists on her Discord Server came together, to write/draw/compose Art pieces under the theme: Hazbin Hotel Regency AU
Of course I had to participate - and this is the product! I sincerely hope you'll love it as much as I loved writing it! And please - check out all the other amazing contributions (We have major #RadioStatic pieces!) on our masterlist right here.
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Socrates once said 'One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love.'
Maybe that was the reason life, for me, always felt like a burden to bear.
The runt of the litter. Oldest daughter of wealthy, respectable people, and yet... Not as beautiful as my two younger sisters. Not as clever as the youngest. Not as talented as the middle. So parental love, spare thing that it is, was distributed towards the ones with the most prospect, while I, dutifully, smiled, nodded and stayed silent in the shadows of my sisters, living of the rare crumbs that they let fall once in a while.
There was a time, where I thought love was finally within my grasp. When Lord Vincent Voxley – young, handsome, charming, rich - a successful merchant and eligible bachelor had begun to show interest, asking for a dance on one of the many balls my family frequented to have me shown off and – hopefully – off their hands with a hasty and relatively profitable marriage. They were delighted at the prospect of joining families with the Voxleys, and eager to foster what they thought bloomed that moment before it could rot at the stem. For one night, I felt like life could indeed be free of pain, lost in the movement of a dance and a smile that I didn't have to share, that I thought was all mine. But I was foolish, still am, I suppose.
Lord Voxley, although continuing to shower me in luscious gifts, inviting me to strolls and prospecting engagement even, was generous with his smiles. And his attention. Soon enough, I'd meet another lady with a bracelet matching the necklace he gifted me, hear the same charming words spoken to me from his lips to anothers ears. I couldn't bear the thought of mirroring life as it was, only with even more of a broken heart as it wouldn't be my family, but my husband who'd ration his love for me - if there even was something like love - and rejected his offer with a heavy heart.
My parents were angry, disappointed that I had wasted the one opportunity life gave me on finally being wed. My sisters, one already married and glowing and one engaged and radiant, were equally pitying and dismissive. But I had learned to be content with silence and solitude, and thus found myself accepting the lonely fate life had prepared for me.
It was in that moment, when I finally realized that life wasn't kind, and that it never would be, that I met him.
Gossip of my rude rejection spread like wildfire, reaching the ears of Mr. Alastor Hartfelt, who soon after sought out my father and inquired about me. Known around town for his eccentric personality, a solicitor of the law, a lot of the townspeople looked upon him with wary suspicion - even though considered middle class, he had a fair amount of wealth, servants and acquaintances in the upper circles. Frequently consulting Lord Voxley at his trading business had the rumor mill run wild, the nature of the connection between both unmarried men slowly brought into areas of vulgarity. Which had been the point where Alastor had declined further company of the Lord, to the latter's deep chagrin.
And yet, despite the rumors and the gossip and the strange reputation that he held, my father was all too eager to give him my hand in marriage.
The short span of escorted dates was filled with polite, but reserved conversation, and his demeanor was one of an obliging acquaintance rather than a man seeking to know a potential partner. His smiles were fleeting, his thoughts often turned inward, and while he was leading our conversations with an astute mind, I had a feeling his mind was always elsewhere whenever I spoke.
When he proposed, I was taken aback, and he noticed. "I am not one to beat around the bush, dear. We are both well aware of the rumors surrounding my person and yours, and while I do not care much for gossip, you clearly did. Your parents are happy with the union, and while my affections for you might not be as strong as they probably should, my respect is."
My face must've given away the hurt at his words, the sting of a blow to the last bit of pride I had been able to conserve. He had the decency to look contrite, and I saw his hand move as if he wanted to touch mine, but then decided against it.
"I won't force you to accept," he'd told me, the first words he'd said that truly sounded genuine. "I will not demand something from you that you cannot give willingly." He looked at me, with eyes so deep I couldn't help but stare back, trying to decipher the secrets they hid, but only finding a certain sadness in them that I couldn't yet understand, but deeply resonated in me. Familiar, in a way.
"I...," I tried to formulate, my voice breaking as I thought about the future, what the the years would look like that I would spend without someone by my side. Alastor wasn't a cruel man, in contrary. He was honorable and thoughtful, and had been nothing but a gentleman in the time I had known him, treating everyone he encountered, especially women, with utmost decency and respect, including me. Which was the closest to love I had ever gotten to.
"I would be honored."
His eyes softened, and the honest smile he gave me was, for the first time, directed at me and me alone. "That is enough."
So I found myself, dressed in a white gown I had given up ever wearing long ago, a ring on my finger marking me as a wedded woman. The wedding ceremony had been modest and quick, held on Alastor's own estate, which was an outrage in itself. Lord Voxley, invited by my now husband and accompanied by his associate (an italian fellow named Valentino), angrily glared at me from the distance and watched along friends, families and aquaintances as the officiant declared us husband and wife, a tight smile on Alastors face and a wary one on mine.
After the ceremony, he had excused himself for a short amount of time, leaving me with my newfound relatives and the other guests. There was an uncomfortable, almost palpable tension in the room, as all the eyes present were staring at me, wondering and judging the reason why someone like him would settle for a pariah like me, the whispers slowly starting to turn towards the direction of the rumors once more. Even my sisters were joining in the whispers, a betrayal that stung more than I thought, even though I had expected something like this to happen.
It was a short lived comfort when Alastor's housekeeper Niffty, small and bubbly girl that she was, snuck up behind me and took my hand, congratulating me on my wedding and telling me how wonderful and happy the day had been, a smile so sincere it made me wonder if this was the only one present. Her enthusiasm was a welcome reprieve, and her small hands squeezed mine reassuringly before she hurriedly scurried back to help serve the guests... the first one I saw that seemed happy for the union, the first one I saw who had the decency to look happy for the bride.
A cold hand on my arm ripped this happy moment from me, Lord Voxley standing at my side and giving me an icy smile. "I would say congratulations, but I'm not so sure how sincere it would be." His gaze, usually soft and warm, was now piercing and calculating, and I was unable to read his expression. Behind him I could see his escort watching us with a mocking smile, swinging a glass of red wine with long fingers. It looked like blood.
"You don't have to lie," I quietly said to him, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. "There's no need to keep up the charade anymore. It's over now, and we can both move on."
He scoffed, his face contorting into a grimace. "Yes, I suppose that's true. There's no need to entertain a farce, no need for pleasantries." His hand gripped my arm tighter, and his words were venomous. "Well then, since we're honest now, let me make a few things clear: You are just a replacement, a decoy wife to stop the small-town gossip about me and Alastor from spreading and we both know that. I just have no idea why he would demean himself as far as to marry the likes of you."
His grip hurt, and he looked as if he was about to say more, when a tall figure appeared next to him. "Let go of my wife, Vincent. We wouldn't want to spoil her day."
Lord Voxley's face changed from angry and bitter, to a cold, polite smile, and he let go of my arm. "Of course, old friend. It was just a friendly chat."
"Friendship, not unlike love, is earned through patience and respect, and you are sorely lacking in both, dear Vox." Alastor countered, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly, a gesture that not only surprised me but made my tense heart flutter.
Voxley grimaced and sneered. "Let's see if her patience will last, when she realizes-"
Alastor stepped between us, his teeth gritted. "This is a warning, and my last kindness, Vincent. Don't test me. Especially not on my wedding day."
It was clear the fight would escalate soon if the situation wasn't diffused, and it was Lord Voxley's Italian business partner that interfered now, placing a firm hand on Voxley's shoulder and grinning mockingly. "Ah, ah, tesoro. Let them have their moment while it lasts."
Both exchanged looks, and finally, Voxley seemed to relent, before his gaze flickered over my new husband and settled on me with pitiful scorn.
"Pardon us," he said with a derisive smile and rolled his shoulders, before he made a short bow. "And warm wishes for a successful, long-lasting marriage." With a condescending smirk at the two of us, he and Valentino went back to the center of attention, where the loud laughs of drunk guests and a lewd melody played in a corner told everyone just how the festivities would turn tonight.
Alastor watched him and his retreat with a grim expression, before turning to face me fully.
"I apologize for this unpleasant scene, I'm afraid our dear lord has too much of an ego for the good of anyone involved." His eyes wandered to the place the cold hand had pinned me. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
I shook my head, and was surprised to find that my hand hadn't left his, still softly pressed against his side. The comforting heat his body radiated warmed me up faster than any fireplace could, and I knew, despite the difficult past weeks and the uneasiness that still permeated the celebration, that this had been the right decision, and the only one possible.
"Let us take a little walk, a little air and quiet will do us both some good. I want to show you something."
Hand in hand, he led the way along the aisles of the dining hall, bowing his head in polite acknowledgment towards the guests we passed before walking outside, towards a dark part of his property.
The gardens were a sight to behold, with the sun slowly settling behind lush, green, yellow and red tree tops, a cool autumn breeze blowing and the leaves around us rustling. While we walked, Alastor remained silent, lost in his thoughts once more, and I kept watching him carefully, while his gaze rested firmly at the ground he walked, avoiding my curious eyes and staring down intently, seemingly busy searching for something among the darkening floor.
I, in turn, felt nervous in the silence of the walk, unsure how to proceed, how to thank him for the small moment of kindness after the sharp, cutting words of Voxley. The singular moment I really felt seen, as if I mattered.
He led me deeper and deeper, between tall, beautiful flowers and pruned shrubbery, until we reached a secluded grove, the evening sky glowing gently through the leaves of an apple tree, the apples at its limbs not quite ripe yet, but there was a pleasant smell of fall lingering, and a faint bubbling sound. A spring, almost hidden to any unaware visitor by the small clearing, sprouted from an elevated layer of earth and rocks above and merrily splattered down into a small, narrow stream. The air was cooler here, fresh and clear, and the peacefulness of the area seemed a far cry from the celebratory noise of the party.
"I find solace in nature. And when I can, I come here, sit and contemplate the world in my moments of frustration."
My eyes wandered through the calm of the spot, until it reached my husbands figure, tall and stiff, the dying evening sun casting shadows in his face that made him look even more tired, more worn than he should have looked. It dawned on me then, that even for a moment, his mind was also riddled by things not entirely his making, thoughts and worries I couldn't understand.
He sighed. "When my mother passed away, the last thing she said to me was to 'find a woman whose character was in the smallest possible degree founded on rational principle', before she was laid in her final resting place."
He smiled, wry and empty. "And when I became acquainted with you, a woman that seemed to understand the situation I'm in and didn't demand for my affections, one of those 'rational principles' as my mother put it, I finally felt...relieved, in a way."
I swallowed around the lump that formed in my throat at his confession, my eyes feeling hot, suddenly overwhelmed at the knowledge of the affection my new spouse felt towards me, in a way, but not knowing whether I should feel joy or ache over the circumstances.
"I may not love you like a husband should today or tomorrow," His words echoed through the brook, clear as the water of the little stream, and his fingers, cold on my hand, lifted mine gently to his lips, "and you might feel the same way about me." His face turned slightly, and the smile he gave me was one of sympathy, and maybe a bit of shared loneliness. "But every river has to start with a spring."
But as he kissed my hand in a gesture so tender I hadn't believed him to possess, and my heart started beating faster, I was able to look in his eyes for the first time, and something that might resemble trust, warmth and a feeling close to comfort blossomed deep inside my chest, feeling as if my hand was a little lighter when he let it go.
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princess-of-the-corner · 5 months ago
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Honestly, I think the fact Marinette was willing to go so far regarding Kagami gives credence to the idea that its not unfair Alya just kind of bought that she was jealous of Lila being into Adrien.
Like, Marinette's perception of Kagami pre-friendship was a haughty, "Ohohoh" Ice Queen trying to whisk Adrien away.
Alya even sort of indulged this take, I figure because Kagami didn't make as good first impression as Lila who is more socially deft than Kagami on first scan. Thus, the claims seem less grounded unless she starts invading the new girl/her friend like a suspect, which she may not be willing to do just cos Marinette decided another competitor is her foe.
Which also aligns well with Alya in general.
She indulges Marinette's takes on Kagami but likely wouldn't actively participate in sabotage beyond passive, "Yeah good luck girl I guess". She won't break her friendship with Lila over accusations, but nor will she break it with Marinette over making said accusation. She doesn't go all in on any of it.
OH YEAH NO LIKE.
So like. Granted the timeline's a bit fucky because things like MQ and Anemaestro happened after Chameleon BUT-
Marinette has shown through her actions with Kagami that she can be very awful. She immediately considered Kagami some cold ice queen bitch and was shocked that Adrien could ever have feelings for her, and that not only was Kagami going to easily win Adrien's hand but that he'd be forced into an awful relationship with someone so awful.
So she sabotages. In Ikari Gozen, in Animaestro, in Miracle Queen. She does things to make sure Kagami doesn't get time alone with Adrien and tries to publicly humiliate her so that he won't want to be seen with her. And may I add a note that this was already bad enough before Derision gave us how Traumatizing™ being humiliated in front of a crush was for Mari, and she tried to do far worse by humiliating Kagami not just in front of Adrien but at a public event in front of so many people and her mother and plenty of reporters recording.
And unlike rivals like Chloé or Lila who are mean and manipulative liars and yadda yadda, Kagami did absolutely fucking nothing to earn any of this. All she did was like Adrien.
And like. I get it. Mari is a flawed teen she' gonna do some questionable shit.
But yeah when she does all that to Kagami who is actually very nice, of fucking course Alya is going to take Marinette's opinion with a grain of salt(HA!) when it comes to Lila.
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thegeekcloud · 6 months ago
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Boycott Eurovision: Yes or No?
There has been a lot of talk on boycotting Eurovision this year because of the Israeli participation and their qualification to the final. Behind everything of course is the subject of money.
MoroccanOil or however it's spelled is one of the biggest sponsors of the Eurovision Song Contest, not just this year but every year. And guess what country this company is from? You got it. It is therefore logical for audiences to boycott Eurovision by refusing to fund the competition in any way. That includes:
Streaming the competition
Buying merchandise
Attending
Voting
If the EBU is not funded then the profitability of having MoroccanOil as a sponsor (and Israel attending) will drop dramatically.
However.
One must keep in mind a few things:
"The big Five are the biggest sponsors which is why they are automatically qualified to the final". They literally keep 5 countries in the final to entice them to keep paying. IN fairness, this is not as much as you might think but still a substantial amount.
They already banned Russia - a country with an incredibly large amount of people (and therefore potential viewers)
The sponsored money has already been given. This is the money that mostly funds the contest.
The participating countries themselves pay a fee. A fee so big a LOT of Balkan countries can't afford!
Most of the money is used for the incredible staging and other events of the competition.
Boycotting Eurovision now in terms of keeping money away from the EBU doesn't really do much in truth. Go for it if you like. It doesn't hurt. But, watching the contest right now is not really gonna change much. A lot of people are already attending (tickets are like 1000 euro apparently btw).
It doesn't hurt, though it doesn't make much difference either to be completely honest with you. My advice is follow the instructions of your favourite artist. After all, this contest is not just about Israel but about them as well. They've all worked so hard and they've been asked to remove all political messages from their performances which is basically a violation of freedom of speech.
Protesting always helps though it is very hard to do IN the arena.
Voting would help if we were all to vote for one person. We all saw last year how Loreen took the crown from Kaarija even though he had like 1.5 times more public votes. And now, Joost is about to be disqualified (cause apparently he punched an Israeli representative who mocked Joost's dead father???). Not voting would basically mean Israel would win. Why?
Italy is not really a political ally of Israel (an example for that would be apology votes from Germany) yet they gave them 40% in the semi finals vote. 40%!?!?. Israel was not even that high on the trends yet they got 40%. But, at the same time, I do not know many people who watch the semi-finals so those who did are either die hard fans or, if those were protesting, people who explicitly watched for Israel.
The jury will 100% give a lot of votes to Israel. I don't like to say it but their song is EXACTLY the type of song they vote for. Another example might be Greece (they are trying something different from a musical point of view) or France (let's face it that man is an angel). I want to say Switzerland but I would also have said Belgium and look where we are. They SHOULD like Switzerland too. In any case the jury can do SERIOUS DAMAGE (again, why Sweeden won even if tHeY'rE nOt SoRrY tHeY wOn)
Governments can push the jury towards a specific result. We probably know where Belgium's 12 is not gonna go (they cut the broadcast) but this is for example a minister in greece:
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IF the competition ends up going to Israel THEN the real boycott will matter cause it can start earlier. Prevention of countries participating for example. People not attending at all.
But the best result would be to prevent that all together. It doesn't help that Joost (Netherlands) did not perform today at the Jury show but his recording was shown.
That's all.
My advice is don't watch or don't watch israel to send a message but vote for either Greece, Italy, Croatia or Switzerland or all of the above. The Netherlands too if they participate cause even though I don't want the contest to go once again there Joost has fucking earned it.
Edit: the goal was for israel not to participate at all (and honestly Azerbaijan shouldn't either) but they did, they are, we're here now so...unless the artists themselves step down....
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drakaripykiros130ac · 1 year ago
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I am back with another pointless TG comment which I am sure you have already heard of : “Rhaenyra was pouting at Aegon’s second name day because she was no longer the center of attention. She was selfish.”
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Oh boy…
Well, these types of comments are obviously made by people who have never bothered to put themselves in Rhaenyra’s shoes (that is the case with most TG fans).
From the very beginning of the story, we have been shown that Rhaenyra has absolutely no problem with the idea of another child in her parents’ lives. She was very supportive of her mother and father having a son. In addition, she was even more excited by the idea of having a baby sister, whom she wanted to name Visenya, after her favorite Queen.
Rhaenyra was the apple of her father’s eye for many years, since she had been his only living child. For Queen Aemma, it was the same. Rhaenyra was sheltered, loved by her parents and the smallfolk. Everyone indulged her, and she was happy.
Then, her whole life came crashing down on her in a very short span of time. Her mother was dead, her newborn brother had died, her father had no other child but her, she was entrusted by her father with a very important Targaryen prophesy as well as the Crown, and her supposedly best friend betrayed her.
Now, three years later, she is forced to participate in a hunt dedicated to Alicent Hightower’s son’s second name day. Quite a big fuss over the second name day of a second child of the King who was not the heir, if you think about it. What was with all that excitement? Why was Aegon’s name day such a big deal for quite a few lords?
Because many of those who participated in that hunt already viewed her half-brother as the future monarch. They so easily clapped for him and showered him with praises and attention, all the while acting as if Rhaenyra, the Heir to the Throne to whom these lords swore oaths, was not even there.
And what was even more disturbing was how much Viserys himself was praising the birth of the male child he has always wanted. In Rhaenyra’s mind, her own father, the father who decided to place the burden of the prophesy and the future of their House on her shoulders, the father who told her he saw in her the qualities of a great ruling Queen, was also treating her now as the ‘second child’.
“But this was Aegon’s name day, not Rhaenyra’s! So of course everyone was paying attention to him!” - some argue.
Of course. But that hunt was never even supposed to take place (no doubt Otto’s idea). I don’t think Rhaenyra herself received such a “grand” name day celebration in her life, even after she was named Heir. But her half-brother did. And what does that tell her?
Rhaenyra is a wise girl. She put the pieces of the puzzle together quickly. It means that Aegon was indirectly treated by everyone, including the King, as the future monarch.
Rhaenyra lost everything when her mother died. But her father offered her hope and purpose, when he named her Heir and entrusted her with the Conqueror’s prophesy. From that moment on, Rhaenyra laid claim on the Crown. It was hers. The one thing she still had. And now the Hightowers were plotting to take even that one thing away from her. And in her mind, her father was letting them.
“No one is here for me.” - When Rhaenyra said that, she didn’t mean it literally. She meant it figuratively. She wasn’t referring to the hunt. She was referring to her situation in general.
She was informing her father of the truth. As soon as Alicent gave birth to that boy, the tides changed since everyone assumed that Viserys would name him heir. And the Hightower snakes were hissing with excitement (notice how the Lord who was shouting for Aegon at the top of his lungs during the hunt was none other than Lord Hightower himself).
Rhaenyra didn’t have anyone on her side. She was all alone. Her mother was gone. Her mother’s family, the Arryns were doing…anything else other than stand by her side in her time of need. Daemon was off trying to prove himself in the Stepstones (although I am sure if he had been at Court, he would have done everything in his power to ease her worries and support her). And her father was present but completely oblivious to his daughter’s suffering or how the Hightowers were making a move to steal her inheritance.
And then, her interactions with idiotic lords such as Jason Lannister, confirmed something else for her. That her father was going to turn his back on her officially, allow the Hightowers to slither their way into the royal fold and take away her House’s power.
“You mean to replace me with Alicent Hightower’s son.” - she rightfully accused him.
Rhaenyra was rightfully upset during that hunt. Because her half-brother (born to a woman she did not agree for her father to marry) was given attention that he normally shouldn’t have received as a second-born child who would not be made heir. Because his name day celebrations were too grand for the name day of a child who would NOT be the heir. Because some of the lords who swore to honor her as the future Queen were now indirectly praising her half-brother as the future King. Because she saw the Hightowers’ ambitions and her father didn’t. Because her mother was dead and she had no one by her side. Because the Hightowers were clearly plotting to steal her inheritance and her father was foolishly letting them.
I am certain that the TG fans who make these types of comments would have certainly been all smiley faced at the birthday of a step-brother whose family was set on stealing their inheritance. - note the sarcasm.
If you want to take shots at my beautiful Rhaenyra, you’re going to have to do better than that.
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innerchorus · 2 months ago
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A question popped up as I thought about some future chapters of my AU regarding Saam. How much is actually known about him in the novels? I don't think there is much about him like family, his past and such, right?
(Do tell me if I already have asked somehting similar)
I can't recall if you asked this before, maybe it came up when we were discussing Sam in general at some point? In any case, your suspicion is correct, Tanaka doesn't provide any other details. We don't know his age, which part of Pars he's from, any details about his past or his family, nothing. The only thing we know (and this is mentioned in the manga, too, when Sam visits the imprisoned Andragoras in Chapter 56) is that he was made Marzban by Andragoras.
However, I think we can infer a few things and speculate about a few others based on that scene. One being that while Sam is a noble, I don't think he necessarily comes from a line of high-ranking generals like Kishward. It feels like Andragoras recognised his talents. And its these talents that Sam defines his own worth by, stating "I am a man of no ability, except to fight." His honour as Marzban and how his position allows him to serve the country he loves are what matters most to him and what gives his life meaning, and also the source of his loyalty to the Parsian royal family.
In terms of his military past, again there are no specific details other than what we're shown in canon; at the time the series opens he is entrusted, along with Garshasp, with protecting the royal capital of Ecbatana. I've theorised before that this is a prestigous position given only to those with a wealth of experience who are trusted completely by the Shah (because after all, when the king leaves the city to go and fight, he must know that it is in good hands). We know Sam is an expert at attacking and defending fortresses, and is familiar with Zabul (but presumably visited rather than being stationed there for a long time; perhaps he was sent to advise, or perhaps to reinforce temporarily when it previously came under threat?). He must have taken part in plenty of siege battles on both sides of the walls which means he's most likely participated in campaigns outside the borders of Pars, as well as potentially in taking back Parsian fortresses that may have fallen to the enemy.
(Personally, I headcanon that he was with the troops Andragoras led in Badakhshan. Maybe he proved his worth in the swift taking of the capital, Helmandus?)
Regarding when he became Marzban, it's tempting to say 'after Osroes died' but it could even have been before then. See, when Osroes became Shah, he actually instated his younger brother Andragoras as Eran and turned over control of the entire army to him. It's possible that he even allowed Andragoras to select his own Marzbans, subject to approval, of course. So there's room for various headcanons there. Either way, Sam feeling some loyalty specifically towards Andragoras even before Osroes's death fits with the fact that Andragoras did have the overwhelming support of the military in general, and it may have been a factor in him choosing not to believe in the rumours that Andragoras killed his brother and burned Prince Hilmes alive. It's clear in his later questions to Andragoras that he longs for it not to be true but can no longer deny the likelihood that it is.
The fact that he recognises Hilmes even years later tells us that he had contact with him in some form, presumably within the grounds of the palace. He's also familiar with Gotarzes, specifically the flaws that overtook him at the end of his reign. Of course, it may be that he simply has knowledge of this through having heard it, but it's also possible he spent some time at court and witnessed it first hand (this may be where his distrust of sorcerers comes from...).
Like I said, his family is a total blank in true Tanaka form so we can imagine whatever we want there. I always felt that Sam seems like someone who would at least spare a thought for his loved ones during the turmoil that Pars descends into, and even though I know it's just Tanaka not seeing fit to mention stuff like this, I can't reconcile it with how I see Sam's character, which is why I ended up with a headcanon that he had a wife who died (sorry to heap yet more angst onto this man, but there you go).
I don't think I have anything else to add. Maybe just that in terms of his familiarity with Prince Arslan, they obviously know each other but not well. I assume he didn't personally have anything to do with Arslan's education etc, and they just saw each other from time to time in the palace or at functions, etc.
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vegetabletaxi · 9 months ago
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headcanons about harry anderson no one cares about but like 5 people and i
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i need to stress he is in my brain daily and i need to get some thoughts out please talk to me about harry anderson egbert guys please /silly
⭐🧵headcanons under the cut 🧵⭐
🧵 it's stated in "the insiders" that he has stage fright, but we are not given an explanation as to where it came from.
i like to imagine it's because he grew up with so many successful people in his family circle. not just because they are gods - but because they have talents that they are incredibly successful at. he's not as funny as his father, he's not as smart as his mother, he's not as savvy as rose, etc etc- and yet, he was brought into the spotlight from an early age nonetheless, having mentioned being in magazines and such. but he never talked, or said a word. meaning, he hasn't shown the world his potential at all yet... and he's terrified of doing so and disappointing them. his family, his friends, even strangers. it's a lot of pressure. and the more he lets it fester, the worse it gets.
🧵 he's in the theatre club but he's never properly acted/sang in front of anyone or participated in a play.
he's only been responsible for costumes. he really wants to participate - he rehearses for months on end before auditions - only to chicken out last minute.
🧵 he loves making other people shine more than shining himself.
we know he makes clothes. clothes are an art of self expression - and he loves dressing other people up so they can show their true potential. plus...it distracts him from his own failures.
🧵 he makes clothes for people that really need it, does a lot of charity work. the homeless, orphans, other school's plays, small local movies, etc.
he just loves to help out. he is genuinely a friendly person that cares and likes to keep himself busy.
🧵 ...and he also does make up!
this falls into the same category as the clothes thing, i think. he has a vanity table in his room. it's not hard to imagine him helping out with that too whenever he can.
🧵 he has officially been excused from holding presentations at school, much to his peer's dismay.
roxy knows his glossophobia (stage fright) is pretty damn bad, so she asked the school not to have him participate in things like that. people in turn think that he gets special treatment because of his god mom. overall he's not disliked though. i just think most people don't really know him, and tend to think of him as somewhat of a snob, if a friendly one. however his grades are only painfully average, partly because of this.
🧵 his relationship with his mom isn't perfect
now don't get me wrong, roxy is great, and they love each other very much. but i do think she has trouble talking about problems, and difficult things in general, and tends to keep things on the lighthearted side, which makes it hard to communicate issues with her. harry anderson would rather pretend he's got everything under control than bother his mom with 'frivilous problems'. ...one of such being kind of uncomfortable with aunt jane when he gets older. plus, he really doesn't want to disappoint her. he feels like he already is.
🧵a master of imitation
he can imitate any voice he wants to with perfect precision, including his mom's. makes calls to the house from school a lot easier. though she's pretty sneaky and finds out about this eventually lol
🧵 probably kins rarity from my little pony /lhj
🧵 he has the last name 'egbert', despite lalonde sounding better, to keep john's father's name alive.
🧵 unlabeled
he is very well versed in lgbt topics, as roxy made sure to teach him, but he doesn't really care to think about himself that way
🧵 born intersex but they really stuck with the name harry anderson so they just assigned him male at birth
told him he's free to choose when he's older of course and roxy refused to do any surgery on him. he just kept going with it though. for one he doesn't truly care about gender but also it's the name his dad wanted him to have, and he misses him a lot.
🧵 he gets along well with kanaya
clothes making go brrr :)
🧵 john does visit for some holidays, which he's happy about. but the day after that, he finds himself extremely sad he's gone again. he never calls back.
i love john but he absolutely is stuck in his own little "theyre fake anyway" narrative. also he's depressed as shit L bozo. this leaves harry anderson with the irrational fear that if only he had been better, he would've stayed "this time".
🧵 played a ton of retro games, and watched a lot of retro movies as a kid, because of roxy and john's influence
he tries talking about it with others but they have no idea what the fuck he's talking about ever
🧵 sometimes roxy is too lazy to do her make up so she lets harry anderson do it in the mornings
just thought that was a cute little domestic thing they do
🧵when john finally comes out as june, he helps her pass better
seeing as harry is so good at voice imitation he can help her voice train, and of course would be more than happy to make clothes that flatter her figure. finally someone will indulge him in dress up :)
anyway that's it for now byeeee
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blog-name-idk · 2 years ago
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Mold a Pretty Lie | 07
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Pairing: professor!Jin x Fem undergrad!Reader
Genre: College!AU, Unhealthy relationships, toxic relationships, virgin reader, eventual yandere, eventual smut
Summary: They say love is like a garden that requires regular care and attention. Kim Seokjin, your kind and handsome professor, is more than happy to cultivate the vines that bind his heart to yours.
Word Count: 4139
Rating: 18+
~~~~~
"Heyyy! Lookin' good [Y/n]!" called Ashley, waving as she made her way past rows of other students with their posters. You perked up at the sight of someone new. The judging professors had long since come by and asked you questions about your research, and you were now just twiddling your thumbs and wondering how long you were supposed to stay at your station.
"Me or my poster?" you asked with a laugh when she was close, dodging when she tried to ruffle your hair.
"Both! But I already knew your poster was going to be good."
You beamed at the upperclassman's praise. Ashley was one of those people who seemed both effortlessly cool and brilliant, whose casual confidence was something you hoped to achieve one day.
You opened your mouth to respond, only to be distracted by three familiar faces.
"Sierra? Tae? Jimin?" you asked in surprise, not having expected any other visitors. "What are you doing here?"
"You've worked so hard on this all semester, of course we wouldn't miss it!"
Your roommate rolled her eyes as if offended you even had to ask, and you felt warmth bloom in your chest. She said it so matter-of-factly, like it was a given, and you were overcome with appreciation for your friends.
You could count on one hand the number of times anyone had shown up for your achievements. When you had landed the leading role as Sandy in your middle school production of Grease – which, why had that even been a thing when they had to remove all references to "inappropriate" topics – your dad had to work the whole weekend while your mother drove your older sister's high school volleyball team to regionals. When you placed first in your high school science fair, the only one there to cheer you on was Phoebe - mostly because everyone in your grade had been forced to participate.
You were the second child, the one whose good grades were unremarkable because your older sister got them first. Your issues were overlooked or forgotten because you weren't as loud and dramatic as your younger sister.
You knew your parents loved you, but it still hurt to feel like an afterthought when all you ever wanted was for them to at least acknowledge your successes even half as much as they did when baby Brooke got a B on her final English paper. Yes, she had worked hard when her grades had been in the gutter, but hadn't you worked just as hard the entire year?
The fact that your three new friends had taken time out of their day to come to some weird academic showcase you hadn't even officially invited them to – well, it was affecting you much more than you would have thought.
"Whoa, hey, are you okay?"
Taehyung was suddenly in front of you, his hand on your arm and you realized your eyes were suddenly burning with tears.
"Um," you hiccuped, taking a deep breath to keep your emotions at bay. "I'm just - thanks for coming, it really means a lot."
"Awww you're so cute," cooed Ashley, wrapping her arms around you from behind and shaking you obnoxiously from side-to-side.
"Oh my god, get off," you wheezed with a laugh, secretly grateful for the distraction from your inconvenient influx of feelings. "Guys, this is Ashley. She's my TA and works with Dr. Kim too."
"Nice to meet you all," she said with a grin, freeing you from her grip to wave cheerfully at the newcomers. "Glad to see [Y/n] has such good friends, mine wouldn't come even if I begged."
"Well we love [Y/n]!" piped Sierra, so enthusiastically you blinked. "I mean, platonically. At least I do. I mean, we're good friends. Just friends."
You, Taehyung, and Jimin stared at the normally unflappable Sierra and her uncharacteristic babbling. Then you looked at Ashley, whose lips were twitching.
"What did you say your name was?" asked your TA, cocking her head and smiling. You were suddenly reminded that Ashley was very attractive and very much into women. It was just hard for you to notice other people when Dr. Kim was right there.
"I'm Sierra," your roommate replied a little breathlessly, though she seemed to have at least found an additional brain cell to keep her stable.
"Were you interested in any of the other projects?" asked Ashley nonchalantly. "I could walk you through them."
"I mean, if you don't mind," Sierra replied, trying - and failing - to appear just as nonchalant. With a cheery wave, Ashley took Sierra's hand and ushered her away before anyone else could get a word in.
"Wow," was all Jimin said as he watched them leave. He sounded so admiring that you found yourself giggling. "I want to be her when I grow up."
"Are you sure you don't want to go with them?" you teased, absolutely tickled that your roommate and your TA might be hitting it off. You had never seen Sierra so wide-eyed before, and it was incredibly endearing.
"We came to see you," Taehyung replied with his usual easy grin. You smiled back, feeling warm and fuzzy. Even after that uncomfortable exchange with Taehyung, he and Jimin had continued pestering you during and after lectures. They toned down the flirting, but otherwise still treated you the same way as before. The only reason you hung out less these days was because you were so busy with finals and this project.
It went a long way toward soothing the hurt and uncertainty you had felt at Dr. Kim's well-meaning - but likely unfounded - concern. You'd given no indication that your decision had changed, and yet they had even come to a boring science showcase to show their support.
So when you realized Taehyung's hand was still on your arm, you didn't move away.
"Well, do you want to hear about my incredibly exciting research on ocean temperatures?" you joked, only for the boys to nod.
"Please enlighten us, Professor [L/n]," said Jimin, a mischievous grin on his pouty lips. "What could possibly have been interesting enough to keep you working on this instead of hanging out with us?"
You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, though you were unable to keep the smile off your face.
"Oh you know, mass extinction, the loss of ecosystems, and the eventual impact it'll have on human society," you replied, giving him an innocent smile.
"Okay, but do those ecosystems steal you late night pizza from the cafeteria?" asked Taehyung teasingly, making you laugh and shake your head.
"I guess you two have your uses," you teased. Jimin gasped in mock-affront, making you laugh again. You missed hanging out with these two.
"I'm glad some people are having fun today."
You jumped and turned to see Dr. Kim behind you. He was smiling, but his normally twinkling eyes looked a little sharper when they zeroed in on how close the boys were standing, and for a moment you felt like you were doing something wrong. Then you shook off the odd sensation.
It was probably just because as far as Dr. Kim knew, Taehyung had been toying with you while juggling other girls. Not to mention the ill-considered kiss you definitely did not lie awake at night kicking yourself over.
But Jimin had actually pulled you aside separately to explain to you exactly what happened during the conversation Dr. Kim had seen. He had been uncharacteristically serious, telling you he wasn't trying to change your mind, just that he wanted you to have all the information because Taehyung didn't want to seem like he was pushing you to forgive him. Jimin had also assured you that whatever you decided, they did still want to be friends, and he'd tone his behavior down.
Oddly enough, the conversation in which Jimin assured you that you were still important to him even if you didn't have feelings for him, was enough for you to start seeing him in a different light. You had always enjoyed his presence and his teasing attitude, but he seemed so flighty and flirty that it was hard to take him seriously. His obvious care and consideration - not just towards you, but to Taehyung - showed you he could be thoughtful when necessary.
The Kiss Incident - well, it was a one-off mistake, a blip in the otherwise normal trajectory of your college life. Dr. Kim himself had said it couldn't happen again. Even if he had enjoyed it. Well, more specifically said "it wasn't entirely unwelcome," but you would let your daydreams exist where they could.
And anyway, even if Dr. Kim was just concerned about Taehyung or Jimin messing with you, it was your business. He was your professor, not your father (not that either of your parents checked in very often anyway) or… or any other type of role that gave him the right to comment on your personal life.
So why, when he looked at you with those dark eyes, did you feel the urge to assure him that nothing was going on with the boys?
Was it because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get the brief pressure of his lips as he reciprocated the kiss out of your mind? Or because sometimes when you caught his eye, his perfect lips curved into a smirk that made your mouth go dry?
Despite his words - of his kind, humiliating rejection and insistence that nothing of the sort could ever happen again - Dr. Kim's behavior still confused you. The sporadic touches when he was close, the little gifts he'd leave you, the way the occasional compliment slipped from his lips and left you stammering. It was enough that you couldn't shed your feelings, or keep him from your mind long enough to think about starting something with anyone else. Not that anything had even "started" with him.
You weren't immune to Taehyung and Jimin's charm and good looks. And getting to know their personalities just made you like them more. Taehyung's kisses made you weak, and Jimin's flirting could set your heart racing, but neither of them consumed your mind like Dr. Kim. He had somehow wormed his way into every crack and crevice of your brain, like the creeping ivy that grew atop the walls of your dorm.
"Aren't you supposed to be into this stuff, Professor?" asked Taehyung with a grin, not registering anything amiss with the intensity of Dr. Kim's gaze.
"Unfortunately judging several presentations isn't always the definition of a good time," the older man replied lightly, though the set of his mouth told you he wasn't in as good of a mood as he sounded. His eyes focused back onto you, and his smile became more genuine. "And I can't even evaluate the one I know will be good, because it would be a conflict of interest."
You really did not need to hear your professor say something about a conflict of interest while smiling at you like that. You had too many delusional fantasies blooming in your head already to allow another one to take root.
"Well Professor, in your unprofessional opinion, how do you think I rank?" you asked tentatively, peeking at his face and your heart flutter when he smiled back at you.
"Definitely first!" chirped Jimin, slinging his arm around you in a show of support you wished could have waited for a more opportune time. Still, it was an innocent enough gesture, and you were genuinely happy he had come.
"Thanks, Jimin," you said with a laugh.
"Well, I might be biased," Dr. Kim teased, so casual you wondered if you had imagined the way his eyes flashed. "But I do believe this is one of the best projects in the category."
"Really?" you breathed, his praise making you turn towards him like a flower to the sun. Jimin's arm around your shoulder reminded you not to make a complete fool out of yourself.
"Of course," your Professor replied. "We'll find out soon enough, in any case. Everyone has turned in their evaluations."
"Oh hey Prof! I thought you were evaluating the other room!"
Ashley announced her arrival with her typical aplomb, a smiling Sierra in tow. You raised an eyebrow at your roommate, grateful for the distraction, your friend winked.
"We finished, so I thought I'd come see how [Y/n] was doing," Dr. Kim replied. "Though it seems she has all the support she needs."
He said it lightly, like a joke. No one else seemed to notice anything amiss, not even Ashley, but the way his eyes met yours briefly made you uncertain.
"Of course, we're her personal cheer squad," Taehyung announced, draping his arm over your other shoulder and bringing you in for a one-armed hug. Jimin squawked when the action pulled you away from him, and tugged you back towards him in a playful tug-of-war.
Sierra and Ashley laughed at their antics as you struggled to get free, complaining you weren't a yo-yo.
"But you're so fun to play with," teased Jimin, the most suggestive thing he had said in weeks. You knew he didn't mean it that way – his tone was more playful than smooth – but you couldn't help but peek at Dr. Kim out of the corner of your eye.
He had been pulled aside by another professor, and you weren't sure whether you felt relieved or disappointed that he seemed to have missed the exchange. Then you forced yourself to pay attention to your friends, because you realized that once again you were being a selfish idiot.
When the results were announced, you were dogpiled by your friends while Ashley cheered by your side. For a moment you felt eyes burning into the back of your head, but when you turned, all you saw was Dr. Kim smiling and offering you congratulations.
~~~~~
The airport was bustling with holiday travel, and you felt a little overwhelmed by the crowd. You chewed your lip as you scanned the lines, hoping to see your broad-shouldered professor, to no avail. This was supposed to be the spot you, Dr. Kim, and the other student-professor pair met up at before going through security together, and yet no one was in sight.
For a moment panic filled you. Were you late? Was this the wrong airport? Oh no, what if it was the wrong day and you had already missed the flight?
"[Y/n], were you waiting long?"
A familiar voice cut through your anxiety and you let out a sigh of relief as you turned to greet your professor.
"I just got here," you assured him, resisting the urge to cling to his arm to make sure he wouldn't leave. "Where are Dr. Li and Jason?"
"They unfortunately both came down with the flu," said Dr. Kim ruefully. "I got the call this morning. One probably got it from the other."
You gulped. A weekend alone with your beautiful professor? Well, not alone alone, since most of the days would be taken up by the conference activities, but without the buffer of two strangers you were a little worried about how the state of your crush would be by the end.
"Oh," you squeaked, looking down at your carry-on. It was just a three-day trip, you could do this. It would be totally fine. You were breezy.
The mantra carried you through the security line, where you tried not to stare as your professor removed his jacket and shoes. It bolstered you through the walk to the gate, when he asked if you needed anything and bought you a water anyway. It lasted through boarding, when he smiled and asked if you wanted the window seat.
You buckled the funny-looking seatbelt, scolding yourself for being disappointed that Dr. Kim had left the middle seat empty between you. If he had, his warmth might have distracted you from the not-as-pleasant butterflies fighting to the death in your gut as you discovered that you might have a tiny fear of flying.
As the overly cheery safety and thank-you-for-flying-with-us video began to play, your traitorous brain decided to latch onto keywords like "if a water landing is needed" and "life jackets" and "oxygen masks". Was the plane getting warmer? You stole a surreptitious glance at the people sitting in the exit row seat and wondered if they could be trusted to assist in the event of an emergency.
Still, you had to pat yourself on the back. Despite the rising panic you felt inside, you were able to smile and laugh absentmindedly at Dr. Kim's jokes, even if his voice is starting to feel a little far away. Until the plane began to move and your hands latched onto your arm rests.
"Are you alright?"
Your professor was eyeing you in concern, and you tried to relax your white-knuckled grip. But – oh god the plane was speeding up and what if something went wrong or a wing fell off or the engine exploded or –
"[Y/n]."
Dr. Kim's voice was soft in your ear – when did he change seats? Your breaths were coming in short, frantic pants and for once it wasn't his proximity that was making your heart pound.
"Can you hear me?" he asked, hands on your shoulders and warm eyes fixed on yours. He was close enough that you could hear him over the rumble of the plane and the cotton static in your ears, and you clung to his voice like a lifeline. You opened your mouth to respond, which was when you felt the plane lift off the ground. You snapped your eyes and lips shut, wondering why, of all things, you were going to die of a heart attack at the tender age of eighteen.
A soft touch on your face startled you enough for you to open your eyes again, and you vaguely registered that Dr. Kim's hand was cupping your cheek.
"Try to breathe with me," he murmured, making a big show of puffing out his chest as he inhaled. You would have giggled had you not been on the edge of hyperventilating. Still, you did your best to obey your professor despite the tightness in your chest, and he didn't scold you when your breath hitched or you gasped or messed up the rhythm.
You weren't sure how long he stayed like that, breathing with you and stroking your cheek gently with his thumb, but eventually your breath evened out and you realized the plane was no longer shaking or rumbling so much. You winced as you tried to relax your hands from the vice-like grip you had on the armrests, flexing your fingers to try to relieve the stiff ache in your joints.
"There's my girl," whispered Dr. Kim softly, smiling at you. His hand was warm on your skin, and his words sank into you like a rock tossed into the ocean. One that was still falling to depths unknown.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, making you swallow whatever had been at the tip of your tongue. Instead you nodded, feeling your lower lip drag between your teeth as you tried to think around the cotton-like fatigue weighing down on your head. Dr. Kim's eyes flickered to your mouth at the action, and for a moment something dark bloomed in his gaze.
"Sir, please fasten your seatbelt."
You both jumped at the pleasant, professional voice of the flight attendant, and Dr. Kim apologized as he settled into the seat and clicked the clasp into place. You were incredibly relieved he remained next to you. It wasn't even for your daydreams, at this point - his solid presence was comforting, and even if the flight had evened out you were still tense.
"T-thank you," you mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by your inability to do something as simple as sit in a chair. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Dr. Kim replied, smiling gently and patting your arm. It was a far cry from the way he had been so tenderly stroking your cheek, but you felt butterflies all the same. "I'm sorry, I didn't know flying was hard for you."
"I didn't either," you said with a self-conscious laugh. "This is my first time."
"Ah," your professor replied in understanding, hand still on your arm. "Well-"
A ding sounded over the speaker system, and a voice spoke.
"This is your captain speaking. We are about to enter into a patch of turbulent air, so please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."
"Oh," you said faintly, wondering if this was your karma for lusting after your professor. Perhaps you deserved this.
"Do you want-" Dr. Kim began, looking at you with concern, before the plane jolted and you let out a humiliating whimper, squeezing your eyes shut.
It was an even bigger shock when you felt a strong arm encircle your shoulder and pull you into a very firm, very broad, very wonderful-smelling chest.
"It'll be okay," your professor murmured into your ear as his other hand stroked your hair gently. You drew in a shuddering breath, enveloped by his warmth and his scent. Then the plane lurched again, and you wondered if it was possible to be simultaneously in heaven and hell.
"S-sorry," you managed to choke, trying to breathe the way Dr. Kim had earlier. Another lurch had you gripping your professor's shirt for dear life, and his arm tightened, pressing you more securely against him. "I know in my head it's fine, I just - "
"Shh, I understand," he said soothingly, his chest rumbling soothingly against your cheek. You hated your brain for deciding flying was a problem so you couldn't properly enjoy what was probably a one time pity thing. Then again, this wouldn't be happening otherwise.
"I'm here for you, okay?" Dr. Kim was a steady source of reassurance, full of encouraging words and soft touches. "Always."
~~~~~
You stirred against Seokjin's chest, and he shushed you gently. To his mixed relief and dismay, you snuggled closer with a cute little grumble, and he felt those vines constrict around his chest.
He had somehow managed to soothe you to sleep earlier, and he hoped you stayed like this for the remainder of the flight. For your own sake, not because your body nestled against his so perfectly.
He hadn't expected you to have a fear of flying - neither did you, apparently - and he hated seeing you so distressed. Though the way you obeyed him, the way you looked at him with total trust in your eyes did send a dark tendril of satisfaction purring through his veins.
He had almost lost himself in that moment. You were so beautiful, and he felt himself drawn like a bee to honey.
Seokjin's mind had been more troubled than usual of late, since the Honors showcase where you won second place and a junior won first. Since he had seen for himself that those two college whelps had wormed their way back into your good graces like the pests they were proving themselves to be.
It had been infuriating to watch the shameless way they flirted with you. Jagged thorns had pricked through his chest at the sheer nerve, and when they had pulled you between them like a prize to be won, the thorny briars had blossomed into something ugly and bitter.
It was clear you weren't used to being cared for or doted on, if the little hints and snippets he had gotten were anything to go by. You had been so shocked when he addressed the bullying at the beginning of the semester, as if you had never had anyone stick up for you.
You deserved - needed - better. Someone to take care of you, who appreciated just how special you were. Someone you could trust, who had your best interests at heart.
It irked Seokjin more than he wanted to admit, that he knew so little of you outside of academics. He wanted to read through every page of your life he hadn't had access to, wanted to see you through those still unwritten.
If he let you be, would the next person tend you the way you needed? Or would they take and take like a parasite until you wilted to nothing?
You shifted against him, soft and sweet, a perfect flower begging to be plucked. He found his hand tracing the curve of your cheek again.
Seokjin wondered just how much more you might consume his thoughts after a weekend together. The vines in his chest constricted at the thought of how you would have fared on this trip without him. The way you clung to him, the way you needed him.
It should have worried him. Yet all he felt was more fondness and concern for you sinking roots ever deeper into his veins.
~~~~~
Next | Masterlist
Tags: @moonleeai @random-and-out-of-context @amenjiminsan @innebulae @seoqity @lilacdreams-00 @chowb @shescharlie @mazmaz30 @definetlythinkimanalien @seokjins-luigi @lucci-girl @xicanacorpse @bighitbabie @8loominghell @jung-nika-hoseok @staradorned @zealouslightcookiebasketball @kissme-ornot @dyhrbls @nabiolive
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fungifanart · 2 years ago
Text
Choices
Characters: Male reader, Yuu!reader, Leona Kingscholar, Sebek Zigvolt, mentions of Malleus
Word count: 726
Cw: Angst, cursing
Notes: I debated making this one longer and having it be the finale, but my muse isn't cooperating right now and it's been so long that I wanted to give you guys SOMETHING. So here we are.
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)
--------------------------------------------------
It's barely been a couple days since the party and Leona is already fed up.
'Why?' You may ask? Because of a certain yowling crocodile who's getting in his herbivore's business while he's attempting to court him.
The horned bastard had been getting awfully close to the herbivore lately and, after some digging by Ruggie, Leona soon found out it was because he was enacting his own courting rituals on him.
The news that it was now a race for HIS herbivore's heart almost sent Leona into a blind rage as he thought about the audacity of that prissy, entitled brat to try and take what was his.
Therefore, he thought to use the Halloween incident and the Prefect’s rage to his advantage and tell the horned bastard to back off for a few days. This would serve as a proper punishment for hurting his chosen mate and also give him time to get closer to said mate, which works.....until they're approached by a head of mint-green hair during a lunch date out in the courtyard.
"HUMAN!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" The half-crocodile fae shouts, completely destroying the romantic atmosphere Leona had going.
The Prefect sighs heavily before responding, "I don't know, Sebek. What HAVE I done to deserve having my nice lunch with Leona disturbed?" He says indignantly towards the other man while Leona glares daggers at him.
"MALLEUS-SAMA HASN'T BEEN HIMSELF SINCE WE RETURNED FROM THE SPECTRAL REALM!!!" Sebek begins, uncaring towards the sharp glares he's receiving from Leona and random passersby, "HE DOESN’T PAY ATTENTION IN CLASS, BARELY PARTICIPATES IN PE AND GOES STRAIGHT TO HIS ROOM ONCE CLASSES ARE OVER!!!"
The Prefect looks at him with an unamused glare, unfazed by all the yelling, "Ok? And what does that have to do with me?"
"LILIA-SAN SAID THAT THE LAST PERSON MALLEUS-SAMA SPOKE TO DURING THE HALLOWEEN PARTY WAS *YOU*!!!" The half-fae points at the Prefect accusingly, "SO I WILL ASK AGAIN: WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YOU DO?!"
The Prefect looks surprised as Leona starts growling and standing up at the half-fae for the sheer disrespect being shown to his chosen mate, "I'll tell you what YOU can do, you little--" Leona is about to tell him off when the Prefect speaks up.
"Y'know what, Sebek? I don't think that's any of your business! In fact, I think you should turn around right now and walk away!" The Prefect says with authority, surprising both men, "But if you're determined to meddle in private affairs, then how about you go tell Mr. Draconia that if he's SO broken up about what happened, then he should grow the FUCK up and actually apologize!! Now LEAVE!!!" He yells, stunning the other man into compliance.
Leona sits back down and watches the crocodile retreat with his tail between his legs as the Prefect leans back against a tree, puts his hand on his face and lets out a deep sigh while mumbling to himself, eyes going unfocused, "Of course that would come back to bite me. What did he expect, though? None of that was MY fault! Is it SO hard to just--"
"Oi. NRC to Herbivore. You there?" Leona snaps his fingers in front of the Prefect’s face, interrupting his mutterings.
The Prefect is startled back to reality, "H-huh?! Oh, sorry."
They continue to eat, but thanks to that crocodile and his master, the atmosphere carries a tension that weighs heavily on both parties until their food is gone and the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.
"Oh...I should head to class now." The Prefect says while standing up and quickly gathering his things.
"Hey, don't be in too much of a hurry." Leona says while starting to stand up, "Let me walk you there."
The Prefect holds up his hand towards the lion in a stopping motion, "I appreciate the thought, Leona, I really do, but I could really use some time alone to think..."
Leona curses his lion instincts which scream at him to do whatever his chosen mate tells him to, despite not wanting him to be on his own.
And so, he watches the Prefect walk away with a stormy expression before slumping back down on the grass in irritation, "Tch, even when he's not here, that horned bastard still manages to ruin everything." Leona grumbles to himself.
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cursedvibes · 8 months ago
Note
"I know why the fandom do it but I REALLY dislike to see these goddamn stitches on Kaori's head whenever she's represented in fanart. I know, it's Kenjaku! I know we never saw her without these stitches! I knoooow BUT I HATE IT she's Yuuji's mother and like what happened to her?! Was she pregnant with Yuuji before Kenjaku possess her body?! How did she get along with Jin? Is Kenjaku directly responsible to Jin being dead? And how Kenjaku found her? "
So what do you think about the post above? Do you think the og Kaori have CT all along? And, that Yuuji's personality is from Kaori not Jin?
I can understand the frustration to an extend. I rarely see it, but when Kaori is shown with stitches or Kenjaku without them it does rub me the wrong way. Kind of similar to people who tag posts who are solely about Kenjaku with "Geto", despite him having nothing to do with it.I can kind of understand it with fanart for a wider reach, but it unfortunately also means I can't block the Geto tag because that means I would miss out on over half of the posts in the Kenjaku tag (the anime caught up, why do people still call Kenjaku "Geto").
But at least one question of that post is easy to answer: Kaori wasn't pregnant with Yuuji before Kenjaku took over her body. Wasuke very clearly differentiates between Kaori and Kenjaku and he said Kaori couldn't get pregnant, that was only possible once Kenjaku took over.
Kaori always had a cursed technique, but it is unclear if she awakened it or if it was just lying dormant in her brain. Could go either way really, but the way Kenjaku worded it, it sounds more like she might have been able to use it, although I doubt she was an active sorcerer either way. I also think it would be more interesting and make her less of a passive participant who only got used for the dormant physical aspects of her body both by Kenjaku and Jin. I would like her to have had a little bit more agency and interesting background.
If Yuuji got some core personality traits from Kaori is impossible to say, since we know literally nothing about her as a person. Could be anyone's guess at this point. Yuuji got the humanity kanji 仁 from his father, but I don't think they have much in common personality-wise based on what we have seen of Jin so far. He is polite, sure, but he hasn't really shown that unconditional compassion Yuuji will give to people. He doesn't even seem like a particularly cheerful person. He was happy to have a child, but was ready to overlook over people's suffering in favour of his selfish goals. With how insistently Wasuke warned him and Kenjaku's bad acting skills I find it very unlikely that he didn't notice that something was wrong with "Kaori", but he went through with it anyway. He's also very cold to his father and we don't know how he acted around Kenjaku. I guess Yuuji is similar to him in that he also is distant towards his parent and family members, except for him Wasuke is the exception not the rule.
That also makes him quite similar to Kenjaku, who has shown trouble connecting with family members as well or people in general. They both have a very open and at times cheerful attitude towards others on the surface, but rarely allow themselves to make deep bonds with these people and over the course of their life have grown very hesitant (Kenjaku obviously moreso than Yuuji). The bonds they do form make them "weak", especially in the eyes of Sukuna and jujutsu society as a whole. They are both ready to sacrifice themselves and their body for the sake of a greater goal that is closely connected to a person they care about. Also they have a similar sense of humour. So I guess out of all his parents Yuuji is the most similar to Kenjaku in terms of core personality. I'd say he got Wasuke's stubbornness as well.
Also, another personal pet peeve related to Kaori is when people say Kenjaku calling Yuuji their son are subliminal feelings from Kaori coming through. That argument is already weak when people try it with Geto, but it makes even less sense with Kaori. She never met Yuuji, she might have never wanted to be pregnant for all we know and Yuuji was born at least a year after she was already dead. Where would those feelings come from? Not to mention that Kenjaku is very aware of their vessel (so far only Geto) influencing them and can differentiate between their own feelings and the ones coming from someone else. Not to mention that considering how Kenjaku treats the Death Paintings, suddenly developing parental feelings would definitely be something that would immediately trip Kenjaku up if it was coming from someone else.
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rainbowfey · 1 year ago
Text
Day 31: Dreams Do Come True
@flufftober
„Are you sure that this is enough candy?” Izuna asked, furrowing an eyebrow. Madara stared at the table in front of them that was almost crooking under the weight of at least half a dozen buckets full of candy. Madara was fairly sure that even one more candy bar could tip the scale and since he wasn’t too keen on buying a new table, he grabbed Izuna’s shoulder and preventively ushered him out of his kitchen.
“Yes, I am sure,” he replied firmly, hoping that the subtle warning in his tone was enough to dissuade Izuna from insisting on even more candy. “Didn’t you want to prepare the living room or something?”
Before Izuna had a chance to make up his mind, Hashirama’s head popped up from the living room, beaming excitedly. “Yes! Izuna, come over here!”
Madara sighed in relief and gave Izuna a light push. He watched as Izuna joined a very enthusiastic Hashirama who had been bustling about in his living room for quite some time now. Madara wasn’t too sure about whether he wanted to see what Hashirama had contrived this time – especially because he was well aware that Izuna’s participation in this would only encourage Hashirama in whatever he was on about. Under normal circumstances, Madara would have never allowed Hashirama to plan a Halloween gathering at his place but the possibility of Tobirama showing up was enough of an incentive to accept Hashirama’s suggestion without missing a beat. And now he had to live with the consequences which consisted of Hashirama’s giddiness and Izuna’s malicious compliance with whatever he thought could drive Madara up the walls.
Madara flinched when he heard a scraping noise from his living room, followed by the giggle of two people. He sighed deeply and shook his head, asking himself what he had gotten himself into this time. He was about to go check on Hashirama and Izuna when his bell rang, making him stop dead in his tracks. His heart started beating faster almost instantly. There was only one guest left who hadn’t shown up yet.
Madara took a deep breath and assumed an unfazed look, walking towards the door and opening it confidently. And even though he wasn’t entirely surprised, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Tobirama on his porch, clasping something in his hands.
“Hi,” Madara said as nonchalantly as possible, giving him a sly smile that made Tobirama blush instantly. Madara relished in his inadvertent reaction and felt his body relax a bit. He made a welcoming gesture but Tobirama stayed put, nervously staring at the package he was holding.
“Uh, hi,” he said, avoiding Madara’s gaze. “I … er …” His voice faded away and he stared at his hands helplessly.
Madara tried to suppress the warm smile trying to creep onto his face. It did seem like as if Tobirama hadn’t yet gotten over his embarrassment from the past day. Madara had fallen asleep on Tobirama’s couch, only to be woken up by loud bangs from afar and movement somewhere beside him. It had taken him a while to figure out where he was and what was going on. And when he had finally understood what was going on, Tobirama had already taken off – and with him, Madara’s sweater. In his daze, Tobirama had grabbed the wrong sweater, leaving Madara at his house with no change of clothes. And since he hadn’t seen much of an alternative, Madara had quickly put on Tobirama’s sweater, following him towards the fire they had spent hours fighting. By the time they had finally managed to put the fire out, Madara had already forgotten about the not so familiar sweater he was wearing, especially since it turned out to be very comfortable. It had been Izuna who had noticed Tobirama’s mistake – and of course, his younger brother hadn’t been able or willing to zip it, putting them both on the spot with his particularly sassy remarks. And to make matters worse, a usually very oblivious Hashirama had finally caught on, entirely incredulously asking them whether they were a thing. For a moment, Madara had been very worried that Tobirama would just die of embarrassment on the spot, especially since Hashirama and Izuna hadn’t taken no for an answer. In the end, Madara had felt the urge to put his foot down, shutting them both up rather harshly even though he himself had quite enjoyed the situation. But his amusement wasn’t worth Tobirama’s discomfort in the slightest.
Madara eyed the package in Tobirama’s hands curiously and he noticed that the black fabric seemed quite familiar. “Is that my sweater?” he asked and Tobirama nodded quickly.
“I washed it,” he said quickly. “I’m not sure whether I’ve managed to get all the soot off though. It still smells a bit like smoke.” And after a short pause, he stared at his feet and mumbled, “I’m sorry. I should’ve taken better care of it.”
Madara grinned at him. “And let the village burn down in the process? I don’t think so. You didn’t do anything wrong, they would’ve been screwed without your help.”
Tobirama looked up in surprise, staring at him. “I’m sure they would’ve been just fine,” he replied a bit stunned.
Madara shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. Your lead and your rather impressive water release saved the day.”
Tobirama’s blush deepened and he shuffled his feet, awkwardly holding the neatly folded sweater out to Madara. “You’re exaggerating,” he mumbled, avoiding Madara’s gaze.
Madara reluctantly accepted the sweater. He didn’t feel like returning Tobirama’s sweater just yet but now it seemed like he didn’t have much of a choice. “No, I’m not,” he retorted. “But now come in, we’ve been waiting for you.”
And with these words, he held the door open. After a moment of hesitation, Tobirama nodded slightly and slipped past him. He hadn’t finished taking off his shoes and jacket when Hashirama had already noticed his arrival, howling in joy. Madara hadn’t even closed the door when Tobirama had already been pulled into the living room by his brother. With a light smile, he set the sweater down on his cupboard and followed them into the living room.
Upon entering though, Madara froze. He stared at his living room, blinking once, twice, three times before he could make out the familiar shapes of his furniture under the multitude of Halloween themed decorations. His couch and armchairs were covered in orange and black cushions and blankets, one uglier than the other, covered in spider, pumpkin or ghost patterns. A hideous jack-o-lantern sat enthroned on his television, staring down at them with a dreadful – and very clumsily carved – grin. Next to the television towered several stacks of video tapes, swaying dangerously whenever someone even as much as breathed in their proximity. And the worst of it all was the stack of costumes threateningly spread out on his coffee table. “Oh no,” Madara muttered and he saw a hint of despair on Tobirama’s face who was cornered by Hashirama who was already wearing an absolutely atrocious pumpkin costume. Madara turned to flee but he was quickly stopped by Izuna blocking his way, a malicious smile on his lips. Izuna was dressed up as a bat, giant flaps of fabric moving around his arms.
“You stay here,” he said with the most evil smile Madara had ever seen on his brother. His heart dropped into his guts when he saw the costume in Izuna’s hand.
“No, don’t even think of it,” he said, raising his hands in a not so subtle warning. “You can’t make me do this!”
A while later, Madara sat on his couch, still a bit rattled by what had happened. He had in fact erred – and now, he sat on the sofa, dejectedly looking down at the rather fancy vampire costume he had been forced into. Who would’ve known that Izuna was this strong? The only thing that gave him solace was Tobirama’s equally as thunderstruck face. Hashirama had proven to be a worthy partner for Izuna and they had teamed up, overpowering Madara and Tobirama within seconds, leaving them no chance to defend themselves. And now, Madara had turned into a very gloomy vampire while Tobirama had become a still fairly startled looking ghost. Now that he examined him, Madara couldn’t help but notice that Tobirama had to be the most attractive ghost he had ever seen. The white fabric of the costume went astonishingly well with his pale face and silver hair, enhancing the red markings in his face that now looked like bloody tears. The only thing that didn’t quite fit was the puzzled expression on his face. They exchanged a look and Madara couldn’t help but grin at Tobirama’s pained look. But before they had a chance to speak about what had happened, a very jubilant pumpkin and bat returned, throwing themselves onto the couches with a satisfied sigh.
“We have carried the candy buckets to the door already so you won’t have to do it,” Izuna informed Madara graciously.
Madara furrowed an eyebrow and stared at his little brother. “If you think I’ll be handing out candy to little kids, you have been mistaken.”
Hashirama beamed at him and shrugged. “That’s fine, isn’t it, Izuna? We’ll do it alone.”
Izuna seemed like he wanted to protest but Madara shot him a warning look and Izuna closed his mouth with an amused look. Perhaps he had gotten the message but it seemed more likely to Madara that Izuna knew that he had overstepped the mark already by shoving Madara in a ridiculous vampire costume and didn’t dare to anger him further.
The next couple of hours entailed a whirlwind of Halloween themed snacks, the bell ringing, Hashirama and Izuna jumping up and gleefully handing out candy to kids that wore even more ridiculous costumes than they did. Again and again, the sound of the bell pierced Madara’s eardrums and after a while, he went over to pouring them drinks in the meantime, slowly but steadily turning them all a bit tipsy. Even Tobirama seemed to finally relax a bit and they started chatting about everything that came to mind. After a while, the steady stream of children slowly started trickling and they finally settled down. The room had turned pretty warm in the meantime and Madara found himself feeling slightly hazy due to the warmth and certainly also the drinks. And when Izuna got up, exclaiming that he’d prepare some snacks, Madara took the chance and stood up slowly.
“I’ll go get some fresh air,” he explained and Hashirama nodded happily, eyeing the video tapes next to the television that most definitely also conformed to the Halloween theme which sent a shiver down Madara’s spine.
When Madara turned to leave, he heard soft footsteps behind him and when he looked over his shoulder he saw that Tobirama had also gotten up. “I’ll join you, if you don’t mind,” he said and Madara nodded.
Together, they left the living room and Madara led him through the hallway, past the kitchen and to his patio. He opened the door and stepped out into the cold, Tobirama following closely behind. When they closed the door behind them, Madara turned on the dim patio light which illuminated the patio barely enough for Madara to make out Tobirama’s face who now leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Madara closed his eyes for a moment and relished in the cool air. He felt his mind slowly clearing and he sighed in relief. And with the cold came a new confidence that he hadn’t felt before.
Madara opened his eyes and looked at Tobirama who seemed fairly calm and relaxed. And suddenly, he decided to finally get closure. “Tobirama?” he asked and Tobirama gave him an asking look. “Why have you been behaving so weird recently?”
Tobirama froze and stared at him. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said slowly, a hint of unease flickering in his eyes. Madara took a deep breath and decided to be frank. “Well, I was under the impression that we’ve been starting to get along. But a couple of days ago, you’ve basically done a U-turn. You’ve been distant, even more than before and I’d really like to know why.”
Tobirama stared at the ground in front of his feet for a moment but then he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping down a bit. Madara’s heart fluttered nervously in his chest and he started to get the sinking feeling that Tobirama was finally preparing to reject him. But even if he did, Madara wanted it to happen now rather than at a later point. Even now, he was already way too smitten with Tobirama and if he didn’t bring clarity, it would only get worse.  
After what felt like an eternity, Tobirama straightened up and returned Madara’s look. “I have overheard your conversation with Izuna a couple of days ago,” he started, his voice quavering only ever so slightly. His gaze remained firm. “And I think I might have been mistaken.”
Madara tilted his head and looked at him, his whole body feeling tense in anticipation of what was to come next.
Tobirama sighed and shook his head. “I have to apologize for my behavior. I should have known better but for some reason, it didn’t even come to my mind that there might be someone else already. I’ve only realized that when I heard you and Izuna talking about him. I’m sorry. I don’t want to stand in the way of you and him.”
Madara stared at him speechlessly while his mind desperately tried to make sense of what Tobirama was saying. He thought back to the conversation with Izuna where he had accidentally started swooning over Tobirama, only to protest when Izuna amusedly asked him whether he was into him. Tobirama had overheard how he had called him Mr. Perfect and … Madara froze. Suddenly, he realized that he had never once mentioned Tobirama’s name in the conversation with Izuna.
And with the impact of a meteor, all the puzzle pieces fell into place.
“You’re such an idiot, little Senju,” he groaned and buried his face in his hands, torn between frustration and hysterical laughter when the past couple of days finally made sense.
Tobirama shifted from one foot to the other, eyeing him increasingly worried. “I am so sorry,” he said, his voice starting to sound slightly concerned. “I didn’t mean to –“
But before he had the chance to finish his sentence, Madara had regained enough composure to start speaking again. “Tobirama, you are so …” He stopped, paused and took a deep breath, Tobirama’s worried gaze locked onto him. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud in desperation. “Tobirama, I’ve been talking about you. You are Mr. Perfect, don’t you understand? It’s always been you!”
Tobirama’s jaw dropped and he stared at Madara entirely bewildered. “I … you … what?!”
Madara started laughing and his whole body trembled when relief and disbelief collided with each other. Tobirama still seemed entirely shocked. His mouth opened and closed at a loss of words. Madara tried desperately to calm down and when he finally managed to gather himself, he grabbed Tobirama’s hand and looked at him solemnly. “I am into you, Tobirama. The question is, what about you?”
Tobirama stared down at their hands and Madara’s heart skipped a beat when he didn’t reply instantly. But then, Tobirama squeezed his hand and his cheeks got blazing red. “I like you, too,” he said softly, still sounding slightly incredulous. But slowly, the realization seemed to sink in and his face lit up. Madara’s heart melted when Tobirama started smiling, his gorgeous eyes shining like the stars above them. And before he knew what was happening, Tobirama pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. Madara’s heart thundered in his chest when Tobirama came closer, a vulnerable expression in his eyes. And all uncertainty faded away when Madara closed the distance between them, stealing Tobirama a tender kiss.
He still felt Tobirama’s warm lips on his when he heard the creak of the patio door behind them. He felt Tobirama releasing him reluctantly and Madara turned around to face Hashirama and Izuna who stood on the doorsteps, their eyes wide opened. Madara held his breath and peered at Tobirama, tensely waiting for his reaction. But to his surprise, Tobirama returned Hashirama’s gaze entirely unfazed. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he took Madara’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “You wanted to say?” he asked, giving his brother a sassy look.
And all at once, Hashirama and Izuna started beaming. They exchanged a look and Izuna held his hand up to a high five which Hashirama returned. “Finally!” Hashirama burst out, Izuna nodding emphatically.
And in this moment, Madara couldn’t imagine ever being happier. But when he glanced at Tobirama who returned his smile tenderly, he knew that there were still many dimensions of happiness left for them to discover.
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2baddiesfanfics · 2 months ago
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Where Fire Meets Fire
Pairing: Hu Tao x Yanfei
Tags: Poetry, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Makeup Sex
Summary:
Hu Tao, the energetic director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, is excited to have had the opportunity to host the Waterborne Poetry event. However, the absence of her legal advisor girlfriend, Yanfei, leaves her disappointed. Little does she know, Yanfei has left her a sensually charged poem as an apology. Determined to unravel the mystery, Hu Tao embarks on a journey culminating in a night of fiery intimacy that proves love can be expressed in more ways than words.
Read on Ao3
Hu Tao stood onstage awaiting everyone’s arrival for the final day of the Waterborne Poetry event. Looking out at the audience, she let out a melancholy sigh at the noticeable absence of a peach-haired woman with a scarlet hat, but the familiar horns she knew so well were nowhere to be seen.
“Ah, well. The show must go on…” she thought to herself as Venti gathered all the participants to the stage.
As the cohosts announced the rules for the final task, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that Yanfei hadn’t shown up. Of course she knew the girl was busy with her ever-growing caseload and she’d be here if she could, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
The teams started to take their leave, but Xingqiu stayed behind and approached the stage.
“Lady Hu Tao…I was given this letter by a very frantic legal advisor you might know,” he said with a charming wink. “She said something about an urgent matter and to convey her sincerest apologies. She was so quick about it that I had a hard time making out what she said other than she was sorry and to ensure this made its way to you.” He handed her the slip of paper and then hurried back to catch up with his team.
The funeral parlor director looked at the envelope adorned with Yanfei’s crisp professional script. She carefully retrieved the letter from within. Red ink glistened in the light of the surrounding lanterns.
Where Fire Meets Fire
Wait a moment…this is a…poem! Her heart swelled with happiness. So she HAS been paying attention to me! She read on intently.
Under moonlit midnight
Two pyro vision holders intimately meet
Radiant night peeks through darkened windows
Shadows dance around the lovers
Entwined in linen
In a place where prying eyes cannot penetrate
This is where fire meets fire
Hu Tao’s cheeks were aflame. The fact Yanfei had stepped out of her comfort zone to write a poem - an extremely sensual one at that - just for her? She hadn’t thought she could love her any more than she already did, but she clearly had been proved wrong.
Clutching the letter close to her chest, she quickly tucked it away determined to solve her riddle and discover the treasure that surely awaited her.
The funeral parlor director skipped up the path leading to the small home in Liyue Harbor. Before she could knock, Yanfei heard the quiet hum of her tell-tale hilichurl song and opened the door. Finding it difficult to look her girlfriend in the eyes, the legal advisor stared sheepishly at her feet.
“I-I’m sorry I couldn’t make it this week,” she said, barely above a whisper.
With a big grin, Hu Tao bent down to catch her line of sight. “It’s fine, silly! Your poem was a much better surprise,” she responded with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
Yanfei shifted her gaze to meet Hu Tao’s, her jade eyes shimmering in the moonlight. In one swift pull, she tugged the girl into a tight embrace, shutting the door behind them.
“You were able to figure out the riddle that easily? Don’t lie. I bet Xingqiu helped…” Yanfei asked, her breath tickling the girl’s ear.
“Hey now! I’m not as dense as I may seem,” she chuckled against her shoulder. “I mean it was cute. I’ll be keeping it. For posterity, of course.”
Yanfei tucked a strand of hair behind the funeral parlor director’s ear, admiring her sincere smile. “So now that you’ve made it here…let me make it up to you,” she said as she leaned in and slowly kissed her.
After some time, Hu Tao pulled away. “You can be so silly sometimes. I know you’re busy. The poem was enough. But if you insist…” she said, moving back in.
Yanfei pulled her closer, her tongue sliding across the girl’s bottom lip wetting it before she sucked and gently bit it.
“Ah!” She squeaked in response.
The legal expert slid her hand into Hu Tao’s pants and rubbed along the front of her underwear. Even through the fabric she could tell she was ready for more. She brushed across her clit through the thin cloth and heard her inhale sharply.
“Ai yah, Yanfei! You’re teasing…” she whined, shifting her hips to try and coax her further.
Yanfei timidly began to remove her clothing, and Hu Tao started to do the same. Admonishing her with a single look that said, “No, let me,” Yanfei pushed her back up against the wall. She hastily unfastened the front of Hu Tao’s jacket and removed the rest of her clothing until she was bare before her.
Kissing a trail between her breasts and down her stomach, her hands caressed the funeral parlor director’s body as she descended to her knees.
Yanfei bashfully looked up at her through her lashes. She was known for making bold moves in the courtroom, not the bedroom, but wanted her girlfriend to know how apologetic she was that she had missed the event she was so proud to be hosting.
She lifted one of the girl’s legs to rest on her shoulder while her other leg remained firmly planted to help keep her balance. Licking up and down her slick folds, she felt the familiar sensitive bud hit her tongue and swirled pressure to the area. Slowly, she slid her tongue inside her.
“Yan-Yanfei,” Hu Tao moaned.
With her lover’s groan of approval, she thrust in and out of her. Her stance enabled her to reach deeper and hit all the right spots she had grown to know so well.
“C-c-close,” Hu Tao gasped as her back arched off the wall. Bucking her hips into Yanfei’s mouth, her hands twisted in her soft pink tresses. With her free hand, Yanfei grabbed her waist to keep her in place as she quickened her pace. The girl’s legs shook as she fought against Yanfei’s firm hold.
“YANFEI!” Hu Tao shrieked. She continued to suck on her clit as she watched her ride out her orgasm. Hu Tao collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath.
Helping her to the floor, Yanfei kissed her cheek and ran her hand through her hair.
“Forgive me?” She whispered gently. Through eyes bleary with pleasure, Hu Tao beamed.
“You kidding? How could I not after that?” she giggled. “There’s nothing to forgive, Yan-Yan. You work so hard, and I’m so, so proud of you. I just want you to feel the same way about me…”
A look of concern crossed Yanfei’s face. “Hu…of course I’m proud of you! You run an entire business by yourself! Well, I suppose Zhongli helps as well. But you love what you do, and it shows. To take on the extra duty of hosting a poetry contest to help solidify our relationship with Mondstadt…that’s truly impressive,” she said as she nuzzled closer.
Hu Tao blushed. “Ah, gee. Thanks. But it’s still only right I return the favor…” Grabbing her girlfriend by the hand, she led her to the sofa they’d spent many late nights snuggled up together on. She plopped down and pulled Yanfei to sit on her lap. Her shoulders visibly dropped, a sign she was starting to relax.
“I’m not the only one working hard, baby. Take a breather and let me make you feel good…” As if under a spell, the legal advisor melted back into her arms.
“That’s a good girl.” Yanfei felt her teeth graze her neck as her hands wandered further up to knead her breasts.
“Agh…Hu…” due to years of working with various embalming fluids and tools, the funeral parlor director’s work-worn hands had become a sensation Yanfei yearned for. When she felt a sharp pinch to her nipple, she let out a cry between pain and pleasure.
“It’s ok. You can be loud. Who’s going to hear us here?” Hu Tao egged her on. “I like to know I’m doing a good job.” The hand that was gently stroking her inner thigh moved to her soaked center out of habit, the dual stimulation causing Yanfei to toss her head back in ecstasy.
“Archons…Hu…more pressure…please…” she begged as she spread her legs wider to allow her more room. Hu Tao’s soft lips brushed her ear. “Since you asked so nicely…”
Her middle and ring fingers slid into her with ease. The friction of the heel of her hand on her clit was perfect and practiced. Feeling her tease her nipple at the same time was almost too much for her.
“Ahh…ahhh…” she could no longer formulate words.
“You’re good baby…come for me, now,” she whispered in encouragement. As if on cue, Yanfei’s orgasm came swift and steady.
The night air of Liyue blowing through the window made the two shiver despite both possessing the power of pyro. Hu Tao reached for the neatly folded blanket that sat on the opposite side of the couch and draped it over the both of them.
After a few moments of silence, she weaved her fingers through Yanfei’s. “Hey…you still awake?”
The sound of the advisor’s soft snoring answered the question for her. I wonder how long it took for her to write that poem for me on top of all her regular work. A gentle smile spread across Hu Tao’s face. Where fire meets fire, indeed.
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usafphantom2 · 1 year ago
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Jets on highways: Why the European military is expanding "dispersed" road exercises
"Let's say that the enemy's attack plans are based on the entry and destruction of an entire air wing in an airfield in one morning. Well, that won't happen if they [friendly aircraft] are scattered all over the country and moving from A to B and from C to D all the time," said Gary Waterfall, former vice-marechal of the Royal Air Force of the United Kingdom.
Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 10/23/2023 - 00:20am Military
In recent months, European nations have been intensifying the operational exercises of their fighters on temporary bases mounted on highways, dispersing their military air assets to show that they can operate anywhere with more agility. But what's the motivation?
On a cloudy day at the end of last month, two F-35A Lightning fighters belonging to the Norwegian military landed on a highway in central Finland - the first time that the conventional takeoff and landing variant of the jet managed to land on a normal road.
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Baana is an annual road base exercise of the Finnish Air Force. The lead responsibility of the exercise rotates every year among the Air Force units and now it is the Karelia Air Command's turn. The Air Force trains regularly operations from other than a home base to be capable of a quick dispersal across the country, when necessary. Operation at road bases is part of the training of all Air Force pilots.
The Baana 23 exercise includes daily air operations at the Tervo road base and Rissala Air Base from Tuesday to Thursday 19-21 September between 10 am and midnight, and on Friday 22 September between 10 am and 3 pm. The exercise's operational aims are to conduct highway strip take-offs and landings based on the flight training syllabus in day and night-time conditions. The exercise will see participation by Air Force F/A-18 fighters and other Finnish Air Force aircraft.
Apart from the Finnish Air Force fleet, aircraft from allied countries will be involved in the exercise. For the first time, the Royal Norwegian Air Force F-35s and Royal Air Force Eurofighter Typhoons will participate in the exercise. The Eurofighters will operate out of Rissala Air Base.
The landing was purposeful, of course, part of an increase in recent weeks of European military training for landing and taking off fighters on highways, which analysts said represents a renewed interest in “dispersed” operations after Russia's invasion of Ukraine. The goal: to give air forces the ability to operate more independently and distantly from military bases and aviation fields that would be magnets for opposing attacks.
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"The purpose of the concept is to make it more challenging for an enemy to shoot down our aircraft when it is on the ground," said the head of the Royal Norwegian Air Force, Major General Rolf Folland, in a statement from the Norwegian Armed Forces at the time of the landing of the F-35A. "For such a concept to work, we must map all the possibilities and practice them."
The Swedish and Finnish armed forces already practice jet hunting operations from roads, but lately other European air forces have shown their own interest.
youtube
The Norwegian road landings and takeoffs with the F-35 were part of the multinational Baana exercise, which also saw the British Eurofighter Typhoon jets land and take off from a single-track road, something that one pilot described to the BBC as "very crazy."
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Last month we also witnessed the Polish Air Force successfully complete a series of takeoffs and landings on highways involving fighters, coaches and transport aircraft, during what is known as the training exercise of dispersed operations of Route 604 in the small town of Wielbark in northern Poland.
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“If you look at the Swedish or Finnish model of how they fly, they have a base area and within it they will have a series of runways, roads and airfields, where they can disperse and operate,” said Gary Waterfall, a retired lieutenant of the Royal Air Force (RAF) from the United Kingdom. "They can take off from these places, land in a different place, turn the plane, download, upload data, rearm, take off and leave again."
He emphasized that in "an era of ultra-precision attacks", dispersed operations provide agility if the bases are under threat or if entry into the airspace around the bases is denied by an enemy.
"Let's say that the enemy's attack plans are based on the entry and destruction of an entire air wing in an airfield in one morning. Well, that won't happen if they [friendly aircraft] are scattered all over the country and moving from A to B, from C to D all the time," he said.
And in addition to solving the practical problems in road operations, analyst Justin Bronk said that the exercises also send a message to a target audience in the east.
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“The motivation behind operations is, in part, to gather data on the opportunities and pitfalls of road operations for air forces that have not done so for a long time, and in part, to signal to Russia that they are taking serious measures to make it more difficult for their forces to reach a base in a major war,” said Bronk, a senior researcher of air power and technology at the Royal United Services Institute, a UK defense think tank.
Similarly, Douglas Barrie, a senior member of the military aerospace area of the International Institute of Strategic Studies, based in the United Kingdom, added that there is "an element of message" aligned with the wave of new training operations on highways, which is equivalent to the NATO air forces telling Russia: "Do not assume that just because you have destroyed our main operational bases, you will make my Air Force ineffective. It's about aggravating the challenge of selecting targets for the other side."
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He added that Russia discovered in Ukraine that "disabling" an enemy airfield, or the aircraft on it, is not a "simple task".
Ultimately, Waterfall said, scattered operations do not necessarily mean that air forces can prevent opponents from attacking them, but will “change their calculation” on whether or not an attack is launched.
Training of dispersed operations from Poland
For the Polish Air Force inspector, Major General Ireneusz Nowak, the fighting in Ukraine has already proven the need to be able to operate aircraft far from their usual base.
Poland's Exercise 604 specifically evaluated the ability of the air and ground crews of F-16, Su-22, MiG-29, M-346, M28, C295M and C-130 to fly to from an alternative temporary facility, based on a scenario in which a base is inaccessible. The exercise took place on Route 604, a public road used daily by car traffic, but temporarily closed to the event.
“Ukraine's findings show that permanent air bases will be the first target of the attacks,” Nowak said. “By conducting a defensive operation, as is now the case in Ukraine, our air forces must be able to survive. And this can be achieved by dispersing our aircraft, and that's what the DOLs [Drogowy Odcinek Lotniskowy, stretches of public roads designated as potential airstrips] are for. A concept of Agile Combat Employment (ACE) requires the preparation of several dozen locations [such as DOL Wielbark] across the country."
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For the exercise, the highest-ranking Polish fighter pilots were the first to conduct takeoffs and landings on public roads.
“For several reasons, the commanders landed first... [mainly] to demonstrate good leadership,” said Polish Air Force Inspector Major General Ireneusz Nowak. "I don't want, and I say this very clearly and decisively, in the Polish Air Force, commanders behind tables. In aviation, you quickly lose touch with what is happening in combat units and it is difficult to make the right decisions when you are just a Power Point expert sitting at your desk in Warsaw."
More than 40 pilots were trained in operations on public highways during the exercise of Route 604.
While the pilots learned their functions, the air defenses also trained to "protect" the assets against simulated attacks by the enemy. Air defenders operating a Pilica VSHORAD missile and artillery system were trained, facing MiG-29 Fulcrums as "aggressors". The exercise was also protected against terrorist attacks, drones or enemy aircraft by Pilica systems, also having to fight a UCAV TB2 Bayraktar, as well as an S-70i Black Hawk helicopter.
Next year, the Polish Air Force expects to conduct night operations on public roads that may also involve the newly acquired KAI FA-50GF training jets.
Expect road landings to become more common
Nowak said there is a "desire" for similar exercises to be held annually in Poland, and other training exercises for dispersed operations in collaboration with NATO partner air forces.
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In the long term, broad international cooperation is expected, including collaboration with Scandinavian countries, well versed in dispersed operations. Pilots from other allied countries will also be invited to Poland for joint training exercises and learning on how to operate in Polish conditions.
“In times of peace, the exercises on the motorways would imply the closure of important transport routes and, in times of war, the same motorways will be a very important element of the logistical supply of troops, which also excludes the interruption, even if only temporary, of such important supply arteries,” explained Lieutenant General Wieslaw Kukula, general commander of the Polish Armed Forces.
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Poland's commitment to modernize roads and collaborate with other NATO partners in dispersed operations in the future once again points to increased deterrence in the face of Russian aggression.
“There is a certain degree of urgency throughout NATO to do this because Russia has given a warning sign,” Waterfall said. “I think it's very good to see why the day you don't want to do this is the day you'll have to do it.”
More generally, Barrie suggested that the increase in dispersed operations is a "sign of the times" due to Russia's "very abrasive relationship" with Europe.
“I don't think there's any reason why we don't see the Air Force's effort to improve resilience and survivability. In the context of NATO, people will analyze all the options,” he said.
Source: Breaking Defense
Tags: Military AviationIlmavoimat/Finland Air ForceNATO - North Atlantic Treaty OrganizationPAF - Polish Air Force / Polish Air Force
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Fernando Valduga
Fernando Valduga
Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has work published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.
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icey--stars · 1 year ago
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Vroom Vroom Motherfucker
A motorcyclist group AU and Azriel has just been forced to ride with Eris Vanserra down the highway.
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
Day 5 of @azrisweek 2023 (Alternate Universe)
a/n: behold my retained information on sport motorcycles and acotar combining LMAO also, everyone please be aware i do not condone breaking the law like this- its just a culture that i’ve learned through tiktok. this is a dangerous activity, so if you ever participate in it, you should be properly experienced and geared up. also- just so nobody is confused… backpack=person who rides on the back of a motorcycle. meet(s)=a meet up where cars/bikes are shown off or a group ride
WARNINGS: does breaking the law count as a warning? idk. how about peer pressure? who knows. this is pretty chill lmao, just a couple suggestive sentences at the end
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
He should be yelling at Rhysand for even suggesting a group ride with the Vanserras. Azriel should be protesting very loudly, and yet, one goddamn look from Amren and he’d been forced to remain silent.
So here he was, waiting in the parking lot of their meet-up spot, dismounting his Kawasaki Ninja H2, and being forced to greet the members of the other biker group that had arrived earlier.
Rhys had insisted this group ride was to get rid of bad blood between the two groups and try to form some type of alliance so that nobody was punching anybody when meets happened or some idiot decided to rile one of his friends up at a bar.
He was now staring at Eris Vanserra’s hand, the leader of the opposing biker group, and being forced to bring his scarred hands forward to shake it. He didn’t ever see this in his future.
“It seems,” Eris mused. “That your little pal decided to pair us up.”
That was the second bit. Normally, he went out with a riding buddy from his own group. Commonly, it was Cassian and his new backpack, Nesta. However, Rhys had insisted that they would have a riding partner from the other group, and they must not get separated. Not even if one of them decides to run from the cops.
“Brother,” Azriel corrected with a lethal edge to his voice. Oh, he hated Eris. Of all Vanserras, Eris had to be the worst. Not just because of his attitude, but also because of what he’d done to Mor.
Mor had been riding alone, which has since been banned, and stumbled upon Eris. When a cop arrived and tried to chase them down, Eris decided to run for it, and in turn, caused Mor to get a couple of months in prison when she was caught. Eris had successfully run. Gods, what's worse was she even protected the guy and said she didn’t know him and met him at a gas station— the usual story.
“Ah, well,” Eris hummed. “I wasn’t sure.”
“Of course you weren’t,” Azriel muttered. Beron, the previous ringleader of the Vanserras, had died and it left his eldest son (a complete asshole) in his stead.
“Let’s gear up, I already see my brothers getting ready with your group,” Eris practically ordered.
“You don’t control me, Vanserra,” Azriel growled. It sounded close enough to what came out of a nice cruiser’s exhaust that even he was surprised by the tone.
Eris merely smirked. “Oh really?” He challenged. “Guess who has your keys.”
Azriel narrowed his eyes when Eris lifted a pair of keys in the air. His hands went to his pockets, where he’d left them, and came up empty. He huffed and yanked the keys from Eris’s hand. Only, he didn’t really. Eris lifted it a little higher.
“Now,” Eris mused. “Here are the rules, since you didn’t seem like you were listening back there.”
Back there, meaning when Rhys had been briefing everyone on the route.
“You follow the route, but you have to stay with your riding buddy at all times. If one of you needs gas, the rest of the group might not stop, but you do. If your buddy speeds up, you follow. Got it?”
“You’re not my buddy,” Azriel ground out, barely containing his rage at this point.
“Whatever the hell you want to call it,” Eris said, exasperated. “Don’t break the rules.”
“Fine, Vanserra,” Azriel said hauntingly. “I won’t break the rules.”
“Good,” Eris said, lowering Azriel’s keys. He quickly snatched them back, clutching them tightly.
Azriel turned to march back over to his bike, glancing at Rhys who gave him a sharp warning look, as if to say ‘Don’t break your composure brother.’
He was lucky Azriel didn’t feel up to a brawl with him right now. Instead, he lavished over his carbon fiber coverings on his H2, double-checked the gas because it was a hot day and then finally put on his helmet.
Luckily, he remembered to tighten the straps of said helmet, which matched the pattern of the carbon fiber on his bike, before he put on his gloves.
Lastly, he made sure his leather jacket was properly settled before mounting his bike. It started up just like it always did. A smooth, amazing sound of pure power coming from the exhaust. Oh, he’d spent a fortune to soup this bike up. With an extended swing arm, a souped-up engine (which could still be upgraded more, mind you) that was over 250 horsepower, and the nice carbon fiber he loved.
“Are you ready yet?” A haughty, slightly muffled voice came from in front of him.
He lifted his gaze and saw Eris on his brand new red 2023 Ducati V4 R. The nicest bike on the market, clearly showing his wealth. Azriel could tell now that Eris liked the Ducati brand because the last bike he had was another V4.
Azriel didn’t reply to Eris and merely revved his engine, popped his helmet cover down, and kicked the bike into first gear.
Eris popped his cover down and turned to head toward the entrance, where Rhys, and his backpack, Feyre, in addition to one of the many brothers of Eris were entering the roadway.
Eris rushed forward on his bike to get in line behind Amren. Azriel reluctantly pulled up beside him.
He smirked, hidden by his helmet, when he heard the unmistakable sound of Rhys taking off down the road. Ah, that Hayabusa was angelic-sounding.
Soon enough, it was their turn to start the ride. Eris glanced both ways before making the turn onto the road. Azriel followed.
The road they’d chosen to start on wasn’t one commonly regulated by cops and was overall blank. That said, Eris immediately upshifted and sped up. Azriel grunted and followed after the red streak. At least they’d be able to keep up with each other, Azriel thought. There weren’t many parts available for Eris’s new bike just yet that would make it reach a maximum. Azriel did, however, notice the exhaust was not stock. It certainly was not, because that sounded like pure speed escaping those pipes.
Quickly, Azriel was speeding up to ride just behind Eris. A light changed in front of them, and everyone began to slow. Rhys and Feyre glanced back at everyone, the organizers of this event, to make sure everyone made it out of the parking lot without dying just yet. Rhys had gotten the second oldest Vanserra to deal with, arguably one of the more pleasant ones.
Azriel flipped his helmet up. “Are we going this slow the entire time?” He asked aloud, planning for a snicker from Amren in front of him, or just one of his family laughing. Or even Nesta running forward to killswitch his bike yet again under Cassian’s order.
But no, it was Eris who replied.
“This too slow for the famed spymaster of the Starlights?” Eris mocked.
Spymaster was merely a name he got for himself when he put a muffler on his exhaust and snuck around. Or when he was silently watching someone fuck around at a bar from another group, to report back to Rhys. Easy to find them at a bar on a Friday night, especially when he knew which ones they favored. By this point, he knew what drinks they liked as well.
“Shut up,” Azriel retorted, and promptly flipped his helmet cover back down. He still heard Eris’s mocking laughter though.
Luckily, the light changed and everyone immediately flipped into first gear again to make the left turn. Azriel managed to make it in front of Eris for a second, but it wasn’t long before the redhead was taking advantage of the new two-lane road ahead to zoom past. They were already breaking speed limit laws, Azriel thought with a little thrill. There was always something so utterly adrenaline-inducing about riding his bike like this.
A quick check, and he noticed that everyone planned to break the law today. Everybody either had no license plate on, or it was flipped to where nobody would be able to catch a proper glimpse at it. Not that he was any different. He had an H2, of course he was breaking the law.
The highway was a few miles down the road, so they caught a couple more red lights before the real fun began. It was a Sunday morning. The best time to start fucking about. Eris was the first to turn into the entrance ramp, and Azriel leaned into the turn, speeding past Rhys to keep up with his “buddy.”
He upshifted two times before making it on the highway, seeing a blissfully clear stretch of road in front of them. Before he’d gotten an extended swing arm on his bike, he’d have been wheelieing like none other. He saw Eris switch into the left lane and downshift, speeding up immediately. Azriel rolled his eyes and followed suit, leaning against his gas tank to have better aerodynamics.
Oh, the thrill. Eris and Azriel were easily going more than a hundred miles an hour. Only after a few seconds of pushing their engines did Eris slow down. Azriel glanced back over his shoulder to check the other lane, slowing into a more casual 80 mph cruising speed. He also saw his family following after them. It appears they’d be leading the crowd for now. Azriel hoped Eris paid better attention to the route than he did because he was sure to forget all those twisting turns once they got off the highway.
Azriel rolled his eyes as he saw Eris speeding up again. His bike wheelied and Azriel sucked in a breath at the height before the redhead got control of it and slammed back down. Internally, he winced for the bike. That was a hard slam. He followed after Eris, externally grateful for not dealing with those heavy slams after a wheelie anymore.
Eris continued to speed up, pushing the limits of his bike on the clear straight of the road. Azriel grunted, twisting his thrust to keep up. Though that was only for a few moments. In a sense, Eris’s and his bike were able to go about the same speeds. He glanced down at his speedometer and grinned wildly when he saw the first number was a 2. He focused back on the road, moving out of the left lane to go around a car, now just behind Eris.
He stayed in that lane as Eris switched back to the left, still not slowing down. Unless his family had decided to zoom along with them, they were far ahead of them.
Eris suddenly began to slow down. And when Azriel describes suddenly, it meant Azriel went flying past him as Eris slowed quickly. Azriel let up on the gas, glancing back. Eris was clapping his clutch hand on his helmet.
Azriel looked to the other side of the highway and began to brake as well. There was a police car coming their way, who would hear their exhausts and speed and might as well come over the median to chase them down. That “no chase” law wasn’t in their state yet.
Eris looked like he was laughing as they both slowed to the sad speed limit of fifty-five. Azriel rolled his eyes, chuckling as well. They’d both panicked and that deserved a few laughs. Azriel hoped his family wasn’t as dumb as he was. Rhys might be, but he also had Feyre, so he’d be going slower than usual. Azriel was rarely impeded by a backpack. Sure, he picked up a few girls and guys, but that was rare nowadays.
Azriel and Eris decided collectively that they would take it a bit easier as they drove to their location. They still broke the speed limit, but that was irrelevant. They hit traffic a little bit into it, but with some lane splitting, they were zooming past easily.
After a bit, Azriel heard the familiar sound of bikes behind him, and he glanced back to see the rest of the group all bent over their bikes. Azriel moved to the far right of the road to let the faster bikes over, Eris following suit just behind him.
Eris pulled up beside him after they’d passed, looking at him, and then at the rest of the group, as if in question. Azriel smirked and then downshifted.
It was a good 30 minutes before they made it to their location, but that was faster than google maps, which said it would take an hour. Azriel put out the kickstand as soon as he had backed up into the place between Rhys’s and Eris’s bikes, sighing heavily as he reoriented himself to real-world speed. He tugged off his gloves, and then lifted his head to unbuckle his helmet, and then take it off.
He groaned as he dismounted the bike, his back aching terribly. That was the only bad thing about sports motorcycles, he decided. Leaning over them was not optimal for the human back.
He heard the familiar wild cackle of Cassian and looked up to see his brother sprinting up the steps of the playground they’d arrived at, and sliding down the long metal slide. He had no idea how Cassian wasn’t screaming from the heat that probably was coming off the thing.
Rhys patted him on his shoulder and Azriel half-turned to look at him. “Go have fun Az,” Rhys told him.
Azriel scoffed, but seeing the seriousness in Rhys’s eyes had him stuffing his gloves into his helmet, and laying it on his bike before jogging towards the playground.
Cassian was sprinting back for the steps, with Nesta hot on his tail. Azriel grinned, amused by his brother. Cassian somehow still fit his muscled, 6-and-a-half-foot frame into a tiny kiddie slide.
Azriel glanced around the playground, seeing a few things that looked intriguing enough to investigate, but his gaze settled on the swings. Sighing, he gave into the part of him that desperately wanted to play on the swings. He was always the kid who never got the chance to swing in school.
He sat down on the hard swing. It was a bit short, so he’d struggle to actually swing, but he might as well try. Or, that was his thought until Eris sat down on the swing beside him.
Azriel’s mouth went dry as he beheld Eris, his cheeks involuntarily heating. Eris had taken off his gear, besides the leather pants. Underneath, he was wearing a tight black tank top which left nothing to the imagination. His arms were comparable to Cassian’s, and Cass was addicted to the gym. Azriel worked out of course, but when was the last time he’d been able to observe another attractive man’s muscles? His gaze drifted lower to Eris’s abs. He let himself get no lower before turning to face forward again, closing his eyes a moment to clear his mind.
Naturally, it didn’t work.
Since when did Eris Vanserra get so attractive? He seriously wondered when. He should hate Eris with every fiber in his body and yet here he was, appraising his muscle structure and that sharp chin… amber eyes…auburn hair…full lips.
Azriel resisted a growl when he realized he had turned his head back toward the man who was now beginning to swing back and forth.
He grabbed onto both chains and began to swing himself, swallowing.
“Who knew that Azriel would like to swing on a playground?” Eris taunted.
“Who knew Eris Vanserra would?” Azriel countered immediately.
“Oh, I have no shame in this,” Eris chuckled. “Absolutely none.”
Azriel rolled his eyes, being forced to scoot forward on the swing a bit to spread his legs farther so his boots wouldn’t scrape so harshly against the ground and throw his momentum out the window.
He got higher and higher, ignoring Eris beside him and just enjoying the wind on his face, and not being overheated in his helmet.
Cassian yelled in their direction from the top of the slide. “ERIS AND AZRIEL ARE DOUBLE DATING! KISS! KISS!”
Azriel shot his gaze toward his brother instantly, and then back toward Eris, noticing that they were in fact, swinging synchronized.
Cassian slid down, banging against the side of it with a yelp, and then running towards the swing set. “Come on!” He sat with a smirk. “It’s tradition! Kiss!”
Azriel grunted as he immediately launched himself off the swing, flying towards Cassian. Cassian dodged to the side, Azriel landing heavily on his feet beside him.
“No,” Azriel growled in his brother’s ear.
There was another thump beside them. “Oh, dear Azriel, would it really kill you to kiss me?”
Azriel looked over at Eris with a shocked expression. “What?!” He said in disbelief. Did Eris want to kiss him?!
Cassian did the unbelievable and grabbed Eris’s and Azriel’s heads and began pushing them forward. Azriel stumbled, putting a hand out on Eris’s shoulder to catch himself while Cassian attempted to push their lips together.
“Don’t break tradition,” Cassian said playfully. “Come on Az!”
“I’ve heard a few rumors that you do take male lovers,” Eris said, resisting Cassian’s determined hand as well.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “I don’t have shame in that,” he retorted. “I’m not kissing you.”
“Ah!” Rhys said from behind them. “Come on Az, don’t break tradition.”
“How is this tradition?” He shouted, pulling his hand away from Eris’s shoulder only to put it right back as Cassian pushed more insistently.
“It’s in the rulebook!” Rhys replied. “And if it's not, I’m putting it there.”
“Why the hell do you both want me to kiss this idiot?”
Eris laughed, “Wow, I’ve moved up in the world. I’m not an asshole! I’m an idiot.”
“Because you keep ogling his muscles!” Cassian exclaimed. “Now come on-”
“I do not!” Azriel protests.
“Oh, did you think I didn’t see?” Eris purred, raising a hand to place it on the back of Azriel’s neck. “You love my muscles.”
Azriel groaned from the back of his throat, thoroughly frustrated. “I hate you all,” he muttered and finally leaned forward.
Eris let out a small chuckle and then pressed his lips to Azriel’s in a brief kiss. “There,” he said with a big smirk on his face.
Cassian laughed at his success and Rhys was clasping forearms with him in celebration.
Azriel couldn’t get the feel of Eris’s lips out of his memory, even when the moment had long since gone past and they began to ride back home.
One week later… Azriel found himself pinned up against the bathroom wall in a bar by a very particular auburn-haired male. 
He craved the feel of those lips on his again, so he made sure to get what he wanted and much more.
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
TAGLIST (see post for getting added)
@bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468, @bubybubsters
(please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged in Azris Week or if you'd like to be tagged!!)
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