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#I don’t want to blindside anyone
xx-stark-xx · 2 months
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Can I be honest about this now? I’m going to be honest.
I don’t like the retcon that Peter Parker is the little boy who was wearing the Iron Man mask in the final battle from Iron Man 2. I think I kind of hate it now actually.
This isn’t hate, it’s just…an opinion I guess. The retcon just fuels parts of the fandom that I don’t necessarily enjoy. Yeah.
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brokenstarrylights · 9 months
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*Peaky Blinders in the middle of a dangerous vendetta scheme*
Tommy Shelby to literally anyone: Try my gin =)
Everybody else: ???
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jewfrogs · 1 year
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started to read moira greyland’s the last closet: the dark side of avalon (because i was reminded of marion zimmer bradley) and. g-d. i feel horrible for what she went through but it is really unpleasant how she uses that as rationale for her bigotry
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cutielando · 2 months
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sleepy ~ lando norris
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Summary: Lando’s girlfriend has become notorious around the paddock for falling asleep anywhere.
Words: 1.0k+
Other works: my masterlist
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You had a very good relationship with your sleep schedule. 
That was primarily due to the fact that with Lando’s schedule, having to fly all around the world almost every week, the constant time zone changes. You had to get some sleep any free chance you would get, no matter where.
Which is something Lando, his team and the fans around the world have grown to love. Every time the fans would see you in the paddock, they knew that pictures of you sleeping in a clearly uncomfortable position somewhere in the McLaren garage would surf the internet.
It was everyone’s favorite moment from the whole weekend.
“Y/N, it’s nice to see you again!” Zak greeted you once you had arrived in the garage with Lando for his home race.
“I couldn’t possibly miss this one” you said, hugging the older man and then stepping back to stand beside Lando again.
“We’re very glad to have you here. How’d you sleep last night?” he jokingly asked, making Lando chuckle from beside you.
It became a cute joke within the team, seeing as you managed to fall asleep every time, no matter how well rested you might be.
“Pretty good, but I can’t guarantee that you won’t find me passed out again” you laughed, knowing that it didn’t really bother anyone truly.
Lando talked for a little bit with Zak before leading you to his driver’s room.
When you opened the door, you noticed a new blanket and pillow that hadn’t been there before, which made you look back at Lando, raising your eyebrow.
“Where did those come from?” you asked as you picked up the blanket, immediately savoring the fluffy feeling against your fingers.
“Figured I would buy you a blanket for when you want to nap God knows where, just to make sure you’re comfy and won’t get cold” he explained, shrugging like it was not a big deal.
You pouted, the small gesture warming your heart.
“That’s so sweet, thank you baby” you put down the blanket and gave Lando a hug, pecking his lips before you let him get ready.
You walked around the garage silently, not wanting to get in anybody’s way. The race was about to begin and there was a lot going around, the place being as noisy as a garage could get before lights out.
And yet still, you find your eyes dropping down, sleep slowly threatening to blindside you and make you fall asleep.
But you had vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t fall asleep here, not at Silverstone.
It would prove to be harder than you had originally thought.
“Hey” Lando found you just moments before he had to get in the car, clutching his helmet in his hands.
“Be safe, okay? Come back to me in one piece and don’t forget to have fun” you said, helping fix the balaclava on his head.
He nodded, puckering his lips for his good luck kiss. Once you gave it to him, he put on his helmet and disappeared in the car, leaving you alone with his engineers.
“Hey Y/N” Jon said as he came to stand beside you, watching Lando now driving away from the garage.
“Hey Jon, how are you?” you tried to pay attention to everything he was telling you, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Jon chuckled once he saw how much you were struggling not to pass out.
You nodded. “I did, it’s just something about the atmosphere at the races that lulls me right back to sleep. But I promised myself I wouldn’t fall asleep at this one” you explained, stifling a yawn.
Jon nodded, making small talk for a little longer.
Once the race itself started, you were bundled up in your new blanket from Lando, a pair of McLaren earphones on your ears and sitting beside Cisca, Lando’s mother.
You were trying very hard to follow the race, but the tiredness was creeping in more and more, until you found yourself resting your head against the wall behind you, letting yourself drift to a deep sleep.
When Cisca noticed that you were more quiet than usual, she looked over and saw how peacefully you were sleeping, albeit with your head in a very uncomfortable position.
Smiling fondly to herself, she slowly took your head in her hands and moved you so you were laying with your head in her lap. She absentmindedly weaved her hands through your hair while intently watching the race on the screens.
It wasn’t until the last 3 laps that you woke up, silently kicking yourself for falling asleep.
You looked confusedly around you, noticing Cisca above you smiling.
“Good morning, sunshine. Just in time for the last laps of the race” she explained, helping you settle back into a sitting position.
“I was out for that long?” you moaned, cursing to yourself that you missed the entire race because you were sleeping.
“Don’t beat yourself up dear, the important thing is that you’re here with us” she comforted you, rubbing your arm while averting her attention back to the screen.
You watched the screen intently, cheering and screaming once Lando had crossed the checkered flag in P2.
Both Cisca and Adam gave you tight hugs, congratulating the entire team alongside you.
You walked out of the garage with the two of them, your blanket still wrapped tightly around you as you walked towards the podium, your hands linked with Lando’s mother.
Lando parked his car in front of the number 2 sign, jumping out of the car and running over to where you were waiting for him by the barriers.
“I’m so proud of you!” you squealed as soon as he was within arms length, hugging him close.
“Did you sleep through the race?” he asked as he pulled up his visor, his eyes twinkling.
You smiled sheepishly, making him laugh loudly inside of his helmet.
“My sleepy girl” he mumbled, giving you a squeeze before moving on to hug his parents.
The next day after the race, photos of you sleeping in Cisca’s lap circulated on the internet, making you and your boyfriend laugh. 
Laugh because your habit had turned your relationship into a three-person relationship.
You, Lando and your sleep.
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sserasin · 30 days
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fwb!heeseung
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cw nsfw under cut, female reader, infidelity, jealousy, almost choking, public sex, exhibitionism, possessive!heeseung, maybe a little toxic!heeseung too, anal (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), taking pics/videos during sex (and then sending them to bf), boyfriend ends up unintentionally cucking, squirting, this is more like headcanons cause i’m lazy sorry
nsfw link
this is the type of shit heeseung would send to your boyfriend 😵‍💫
fwb!heeseung who starts off as a friend at a party. you don’t even really remember what led up to you being naked in his bed the next morning, but you do remember every moment of him railing you in his bed. so when he offers to continue fucking, like a fwb, you accept.
fwb!heeseung who finds himself falling in love with you as your relationship progresses, sneaking kisses when you’re not even having sex, just because he can kiss you.
fwb!heeseung who is so surprised that you suddenly have a boyfriend, who is so blindsided and hurt that he fucks you on the floor, not really caring if you got bruises in the midst.
fwb!heeseung that refuses to stop seeing you even when you end up getting a boyfriend. he pretends he’s listening when you tell him why you can’t fuck anymore, and then he’s right back to being all up in your personal space, leaving kisses scattered across your body.
fwb!heeseung doesn’t know when to stop, and he’s a very persuasive guy. it doesn’t take much for him to convince you that you two could ‘still lowkey fuck’.
fwb!heeseung who knows no boundaries, still acting the very same in front of your boyfriend. he’ll grip you by the waist, hug for a second too long, say flirty comments to you right in front of said boyfriend. your boyfriend isn’t stupid, he knows heeseung likes you, but he trusts you too much to think it’s going any further than heeseung’s ‘failed’ advances. at this point, you don’t know how your boyfriend hasn’t caught on yet.
fwb!heeseung who takes every chance he gets to fuck you, pulling you into the backseat of his car as the parking lot is completely stranded save for a few other cars. he’s too big to have car sex, but he also really doesn’t care. he doesn’t really care to keep you quiet, more so does it just to placate you, and is always egging you on to be louder. “come on, tell me who’s fucking you this good,” he chuckles breathlessly, rutting up into you as you bounce on his cock, whimpering his name and little begs for him to help. “fuck, let everyone else know.”
fwb!heeseung who takes you at every party, leaving your boyfriend downstairs alone for however long heeseung wants. he’s not letting you go until he’s done with you, that is for certain. he bends you over the bathroom sink, hand gripping your hair and forcing your back against his front, “so you can see who’s ruining you. not him, not anyone else,” you whimper as his cock hits at a specific angle, slamming against that soft spot that heeseung knows like the back of his hand by now, “me.”
fwb!heeseung who is always trying to find something on your boyfriend for you to break up with him, even coming up with the silliest accusations. “he shit himself in the eighth grade at an assembly.” “i heard he’s actually part donkey.” because really, your boyfriend is an angel, and it frustrates him that he’s seemingly perfect.
fwb!heeseung who convinces you for a quickie in between classes, in a quiet, lone hall. his hand is shoved against your mouth and nose, almost totally constricting your airway. your breaths are short, almost like a gasp for air as his hips slam into yours with his other free hand circling your clit, “you gotta be quiet, remember?” he croons, his breath heavy in your ear. “don’t want baby to find us,” he snickers, using the nickname you used for your boyfriend earlier. you blink, saying through his hand despite the spots in your vision, “who?” he grins at your response, pace quickening to reach your orgasms.
fwb!heeseung who takes advantage of the fact that your boyfriend is always at basketball practice, thankful that he’s always so busy, he doesn’t have time to take care of you. but heeseung? he does, and even if he didn’t, he’d skip it just to be with you. he always uses this against you, too. “he’s not even here to take care of you,” he hums, head between your thighs, placing small kisses on them. “what would you do if i weren’t here, hm?” before you can even answer, his mouth is already sucking on your clit.
fwb!heeseung who sends nudes to you when he knows you’re out with your boyfriend. you both know he hopes your boyfriend sees them so you can finally, completely be his. he first sends a picture of his clothed crotch, hand gripping his hardened cock, sending a ‘wyd?’ when he knows damn well what you’re doing. when you don’t respond, he sends another picture with his sweats off, his cock threatening to slip out of the waistband of his boxers. when that doesn’t get a response, he texts, ‘wish u were here :( wouldn’t have to take care of this by myself’ and another video of him palming his cock, slipping it out of his boxers and slowly starting to jerk off. he always makes sure to leave the audio on, just for you.
fwb!heeseung who always overstays his welcome at your apartment, staying for so long he either narrowly misses your boyfriend arriving or he’s still there, stuck in your closet or under your bed or wherever else he’s decided to hide this time, as your boyfriend is none the wiser. you somehow manage to sneak him out, always sending a long text that you two should finally stop. but he refuses, always convincing you with a press of his lips on yours. the thrill and his love for you is too exhilarating for him to stop.
fwb!heeseung who takes videos and pictures of you; pictures with his dick in your mouth with your eyes teary, looking up at him. pictures with him fully inside you, a bulge from his cock protruding from your lower abdomen. pictures with his cum leaking out of your hole, others with his cum on your face, your stomach, your ass, wherever. there’s pictures of him, too, head buried between your thighs. “what would your boyfriend think if i sent all of our little memories to h—him? show him the you that sluts it out for dick, so desperate for it that you fuck other men instead of your boyfriend.”
fwb!heeseung who gets tired of the back and forth shit, who decides that you must love him, too, if you allow him to fuck you without a condom, if you allow him to fuck your ass, if you allow him to cum inside you. if you’ve stuck with him this long, you have to.
fwb!heeseung who sends a video to your boyfriend while he’s at practice, no words, just the video of him fucking your ass with the audio still on with you moaning his name.
fwb!heeseung who decides just showing your boyfriend pictures and videos of you on his cock isn’t enough, still fucking you through your orgasm just as your boyfriend comes through your door. heeseung pulls you up by your neck, back against his front like so many times in a stranger’s bathroom. he squeezes, capturing your attention, “we have a visitor.” when you gasp in horror and try to get away from him, his hand tightens around your neck, making your body contort in pleasure as your airway is blocked, different colored spots appearing in your vision. your back arches against him, head thrown on his shoulder as he continues hammering into your ass. “go on, tell your boyfriend how you were never really his— you were always mine, weren’t you, baby?” he laughs, “we were literally still fucking when you got together, and we never stopped.” and your boyfriend stupidly stands there, watching in a mixture of hurt but arousal. heeseung can’t help but cruelly make fun of him, releasing his hold on your neck to force you to look at your boyfriend, “look, your boyfriend enjoys seeing you get fucked by another man, probably ‘cause he k—knows he’ll never get you like this. not like i can. tell him i’m better than him. tell him he will never know your body like i do.” you’re already shaking your head, grinding your ass back against him when he slows down. “tell him you love me.”
fwb!heeseung who is so pleased and happy when you finally scream out through your sobs that “i-i love hee—heeseung! i love you, heeseung.” and he finally lets you come, helping you out with a hand on your clit and his other hand constricting your airway. but none of you expect the gush of clear liquid wetting your lower bodies and your bed. neither of you notice when your boyfriend finally gathers himself and leaves the room to take care of his own little problem— heeseung too preoccupied with slowly pulling out of you and taking care of you, like he always does, and you too preoccupied with heeseung and coming down from your intense orgasm.
fwb!heeseung who is no longer fwb!heeseung and is now bf!heeseung, but is every bit of the menace he was before. definitely still takes you in a quiet hall, in the bathroom of a stranger’s party, in the back of his car, in your bed, in his bed. still the same heeseung, just now your boyfriend, heeseung.
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naeviskz · 2 months
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genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship
words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread
this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.
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“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.
you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.
hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.
“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”
“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.
he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.
“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.
“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.
how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.
the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.
so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.
“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.
no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.
hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”
* :.・゚゚・ ✿
“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.
the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.
you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.
“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.
a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.
just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.
“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”
your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.
once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.
“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”
“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.
maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?
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- 完 ♡︎
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months
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Sparring Matches
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Summary: The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team.
Warnings: Canon level violence secret relationship, slight suggestive language
Word Count: 2.7k
Masterlist
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The BAU were all sat in the bullpen trying to get work done when their Unit Chief, and Y/N’s secret boyfriend, walked out of his office, overseeing his team. “I have some bad news,” he announced, catching everyone’s attention.
“Another case?” Rossi guessed, coming out of his own office.
“No, the new Section Chief wants us to perform physical evaluations.” That earned groans from Spencer and Garcia. Meanwhile Derek and Emily were already placing bets about how each other would perform in each activity.
“But we haven’t had to do physical training in years because of field hours!” Reid protested.
Internally Aaron chucked at the doctor’s childlike protest, reminding him of Jack when he didn’t want to do something. “I’m sorry but he’s insistent and won’t be allowing waivers for any of you… except Rossi as well as Garcia because she’s never in the field.”
“Whoo!” she cheered, earning another groan from Spencer.
“And due to a recent incident… we will also be evaluated in hand to hand combat.” Everyone on the team turned to look at Y/N.
“He snuck up on me!” she defended for the millionth time. “I still beat him.”
“Still got a broken rib out of it,” Derek informed tauntingly.
“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You throw yourself through doors even if they’re unlocked.”
“Oh yeah? We’ll see who fairs better in the ring.”
Before Y/N could get another jab in her boyfriend spoke. “Seeing as we are one of the most hands on units the Section Leader wants us to compete with each other so he can get an idea of our capabilities and because we are the most evenly matched. Thank you,” he dismissed, promptly walking back into his office so he didn’t have to witness anymore bickering. As much as Aaron loved the team, especially Y/N, he didn’t enjoy their bickering for prolonged periods of time.
Later that night at home, Aaron and Y/N were discussing the upcoming PT tests. “Why does he want us to fight each other?” she asked, plating their dinners.
“He said that based on reports we end up in physical combat a little too often,” he answered, setting the table. “He said that if we struggle too much then he’ll make it mandatory for us to have SWAT more often and no one will be allowed to move in on an unsub without SWAT presence.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Y/N cried, carrying over the food. “Stupid bureaucrats thinking their ideas are god’s gift to the FBI without even being in the field within the past five years.”
Aaron chucked, taking his seat across from her. “Well an evaluation isn’t too bad of an idea considering…” his voice trailed off as both recalled the weeks Y/N spent lying in bed waiting for her rib to mend itself enough so she could walk.
Y/N blushed, always getting intensely embarrassed whenever anyone brought that up. “He was twice my size and snuck up on me. And then I still managed to pin him with a broken rib,” she pointed out.
“Yes you did,” Aaron agreed, admiring her scowl.
“So do you know who will be fighting who?”
“Yes, it’s a mix of someone you’re fairly evenly matched with and someone who’s very different. You and Prentiss will spar, as will JJ and Reid, then I’ll be against Morgan. As for the opposites I believe it will be Prentiss and Reid, JJ and Morgan, and then you and I?”
“You and I will spar?”
“Yes, don’t worry I won’t blindside you,” he chuckled.
“Oh I’m not worried about that,” she smirked coyly. “I’m a bit younger than you, a bit more spry if you will.”
“Well I don’t know that I can call you younger considering you just used the word ‘spry.’ Besides it’s not a competition.”
“Sure,” she hummed sarcastically.
That only egged on the normally cool Unit Chief. He put his utensils down, forgetting his meal before hardening his expression. The same look he gave the team when he needed them to stop behaving like children, causing Y/N to squirm. “I guarantee you I’ll have you pinned by the end of it. I’ve never had difficulty pinning you before.” Y/N choked on the sip of wine she was drinking at that comment. Before she could say anything her boyfriend was at her side with a napkin. “Be careful, Y/N,” he said slyly, bringing the napkin under her chin. She stared at him in disbelief at his ostentatiousness as he backed away, trailing the napkin across her skin with a smirk.
~
After a week of intense sexual tension it was sparring day. Everyone was stretching in the FBI wrestling room except for Spencer who looked like he’d pass out. “Don’t worry Spence, I’ll go easy on you tomorrow,” Emily smirked.
He looked dissatisfied but took it with a sarcastic “Thanks.”
JJ and Spencer were the first to get in the circle but as soon as the whistle blew and JJ started advancing at him he dropped to the ground. “I yield,” he pled, raising his hands.
“C’mon pretty boy, you gotta do better than that,” Derek called. But Reid was completely unwilling to fight if there was no real danger so JJ was declared the winner.
Next up were Y/N and Emily. “Be careful, Y/N. I’m kind of infamous for hand to hand combat,” Emily bragged.
“I was a marine for four years,” Y/N shrugged arrogantly.
“Whoo girl fight,” Derek jeered from the sidelines.
“Shut up, Derek,” both women called, not moving their gazes from each other.
Also from the sidelines Aaron was resisting the urge to tell Prentiss to go easy on Y/N. Not only would it infuriate Y/N, it would clue the team into their relationship. Hiding a relationship from profilers was difficult but so far Aaron felt that they had managed. As the whistle was blown, Aaron watched in mild horror, keeping his expression hardened, as his girlfriend fought another very highly trained FBI agent.
Derek and Reid came to their boss’ side. “My money’s on Prentiss, she’s stronger,” Derek bet.
Aaron stayed silent, worried he’d betray some sensitive information while being so focused on the fight. Fortunately for him, Reid chimed in with his analysis. “While Emily was a part of Interpol, a very specialized group of agents, Y/N’s younger and more agile. Her training in the marines, while not having as much focus on hand to hand combat, will help her and I’d argue makes her stronger than Emily considering the amount of carbo loading they do.”
Before Morgan could disagree Aaron watched as Y/N pinned Prentiss by literally sitting on her back and pulling Emily’s arm behind her back up in the air. When the whistle blew, declaring Y/N the winner she simply stood up, helped her teammate stand, and went to the bench for her water bottle without a word, not wanting to humiliate her teammate anymore.
Next it was Aaron and Derek stepping onto the mat. Y/N watched them with unwavering eyes, hoping her expression wasn’t too worried. Aaron was tough, he got into more than his fair share of scraps with unsubs and he was still strong and fit. But Derek was well… Derek. He practically lived at the gym when we weren’t on missions and had the most takedowns on the team, preferring to throw himself at the unsub rather than shoot.
Y/N forced herself to look away from the mat, turning her attention to JJ who was approaching. “This should be interesting,” she commented, observing the flurry of fists.
Y/N hummed in agreement, busying herself with the objects in her bag. “Yeah but Derek’s got him. Hotch is tough but Derek’s favorite pastime is taking down unsubs.” Looking up Y/N couldn’t help but cringe as Derek landed a punch on Aaron’s face but he took it like a champ, barely even flinching before pushing Derek back.
The match was long and bitter but it ended with Morgan pinning his boss to the mat. Both were exhausted with labored breaths as the whistle blew. The second it did, Derek moved off of Aaron, sitting at his side trying to catch his breath. Emily went over to Morgan, leaving Y/N the opportunity to go over to her boyfriend without making it too obvious.
“C’mon,” she said as casually as possible, helping him off the mat. Helping him over to the bench she brought him his water bottle, as did Emily for Morgan.
“We’ll continue onto the next portion tomorrow,” the ref informed us before taking his leave.
At Aaron’s house, Y/N was trying to treat his cuts and bruises as best she could. “Are you sure you’re up to sparring tomorrow?” she asked, placing an ice pack against his bruised jaw.
“I’m fine, just some superficial cuts and bruises,” he dismissed.
“Still that was pretty brutal, I could hardly watch.”
Aaron took the cold compress she had been using on him earlier, pressing it to her visibly bruised collarbone. “Was hard to watch you too,” he murmured, feeling a little embarrassed about being so sentimental and protective.
Y/N smiled softly, trying her best to hide it so her boyfriend wouldn’t get too embarrassed. “Let’s get you to bed,” she suggested, helping him up. “This is the longest we’ve gone without a case in a while. You should enjoy it.”
“By sleeping?”
“Yes, sleep is one of my favorite things.”
~
By the next morning Aaron’s face was mostly healed and it was time for the other sparring matches. First up: JJ and Morgan.
While JJ was far more agile and quicker than Derek, all it took was him getting a grip on her and she was pinned.
Next up were Reid and Prentiss. Spencer didn’t immediately collapse but after she swept his leg he never got back up.
And finally it was the two secret lovers. “Don’t worry, L/N, I won’t blindside you,” Aaron smirked just like he did when he first told her they’d be fighting. This was also the first instance of teasing the team had ever seen from their stoic boss.
“You couldn’t move fast enough,” Y/N sneered in return.
With the blow of the whistle both advanced, trying to gain the upper hand. As Aaron tried to grab Y/N she dropped down, kicking him in the legs. It wasn’t enough to knock him down though, only sending him stumbling a few steps. As Y/N was scrambling up, Aaron had already regained his footing. Approaching her again he grabbed her wrist giving him the opportunity to punch her in the face but he hesitated, not wanting to hit a woman much less the woman he loved. His hesitation gave her enough time to twist her arm from his grip. Taking the opportunity once again, she kicked at his legs, sending him sprawling on the ground. She then straddled his abdomen, smirking in victory. But Aaron wasn’t done yet, easily flipped her so now she laid on the mat with him straddling her hips. He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in shock and she tried to struggle free but it was no use seeing as Aaron was twice her size.
The whistle blew again bringing both back to the present. Keenly aware of the position they were in in front of the entire team, Aaron immediately scrambled up onto his feet. Reaching a friendly, professional hand down, he helped Y/N up. “Good match,” he said awkwardly before scurrying off to the bench where his water bottle sat.
Y/N took a second to catch her breath, trying to figure out what would be the least awkward and obvious next move. Fortunately for her, JJ was already bringing her her water bottle. “Thanks,” she wheezed.
“Yeah, how’re you feeling?” JJ sympathized, also just having taken a bit of a beating.
“Aside from having the wind knocked out of me? Fine. I’ll just need a few minutes,” Y/N coughed out.
On the other side of the gym Derek had the biggest grin on his face, very much enjoying teasing his boss. “That was quite the match. Interesting method of pinning L/N.”
Hotch was trying to quickly think of a way to dismiss Morgan without drawing too much attention to him and Y/N. So he just gave him the stern Unit Chief look that instantly shut everyone up. “That’s not appropriate,” was all he said before exiting towards the locker rooms, eager to be back in the safe authority of his suits.
On his way out it took most of his willpower not to think too much about the way he had his girlfriend pinned.
~
The sound of Aaron’s ringtone jolted the two FBI agents up. Aaron grabbed the phone from his nightstand, keeping an arm wrapped around Y/N as she pulled the sheets tighter, cuddling into his chest. She let out a soft groan at being woken up as Aaron answered it. “Hello?” he answered in his groggy morning voice. After a few seconds of muffled information from Garcia he spoke again. “Okay call the rest of the team. I’ll be right there.”
“Another case?” Y/N asked, not even thinking.
“Yeah, sounds like a serial killer in SoHo,” Aaron informed as he hung up. Realizing what just happened he cursed. “Shit.”
“What?” Y/N asked, still gaining her bearings.
“I hadn’t hung up yet.”
“Shit,” Y/N cursed as well. “Okay it’s fine, if anyone says anything you fell asleep on the couch with Jack.”
“Yeah, okay,” Aaron agreed beginning to get dressed in the dark.
Y/N’s phone then went off. “Hello?” she answered, already knowing who would be on the other line.
“Good news, we’re going to New York City, bad news there’s a serial killer,” Penelope announced.
“Okay, I’ll-”
“Ow!” Aaron deep yell and a crash cut Y/N off.
“Was that Hotch?” Penelope gasped in shock.
“No!” Y/N answered too quickly. “Uh no,” she tried to answer more nonchalantly, “it was a guy but definitely not Hotch.” She cringed at her words.
“Ooh details,” Garcia begged.
“Another time,” she promised. “I have to get dressed. See you in 15.” And with that she hung up. She groaned, throwing herself back onto the pillows. “They’re definitely going to figure it out. I don’t have my car and I live on the other side of town we won’t make it.”
“We’ll walk in a few minutes separated. We still have plausible deniability,” Aaron tried to soothe Y/N. “It’ll be fine.”
“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” she observed, getting up to find her clothes.
“Would it be such a bad thing if they found out?” he asked shyly.
“No,” she answered, “not the team. I worry about the Section Chief and others.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it if I have to,” Aaron promised, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms before pressing a kiss to her temple.
Once they pulled into one of the far parking lots, the couple scoped out the other cars as best they could from their seats. “I think we’re good,” Y/N informed. “Follow me in like 3 minutes later?”
Aaron nodded as Y/N opened her door but the second she opened the door, Derek’s car pulled up with Garcia in the passenger seat. “I knew that was Hotch’s voice!” she yelled.
The couple groaned. “Not a word to anyone outside the team, got it?” Y/N immediately demanded.
“Of course, of course,” Derek promised.
“When did you know?” Aaron asked.
“We all had our suspicions but we knew during your sparring match. You were way too comfortable sitting on top of each other. And then my lovely Ms. Garcia’s phone calls confirmed you spent the night together,” Derek smirked.
Meanwhile Garcia was already group calling Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Rossi. “Hotch and L/N confirmed,” she squealed.
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avocad1s · 11 months
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Bring Back What Once Was Mine
Chapter Summary: Lumine tells the False Creator some fabricated news. You are confronted by the Prince.
Characters Mentioned: Multiple Characters Mentioned
Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned. I would also say this deals with slight Yandere themes as well!
Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader
Part Three Part Four (You are here!) Part Five
I’ve re-read this multiple times but I think if I read it again I’ll grow to hate it and delete so I’m just gonna post it
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Even with the moonlight spilling through the campsite, you could hardly make out the features of his face. His grip on your hands was firm but not tight enough to cause you any discomfort, it didn’t seem that he was going to let go any time soon.
“Oh how I’ve waited for this…. Waited for you.” He breaths out.
You simply stare at him, not saying a word. Had he been following you this whole time? If so, how come you weren’t alerted to his presence?
His smile drops at your silence, “don’t be alarmed Your Grace. I have no intention of hurting you! I just want to talk for now.”
He looks behind him for a moment, as if he were looking out for someone, perhaps Yelan. Once he looks back, his smile and soft gaze return.
His tone is unbelievably sweet. You could feel his hands shaking, and based of his demeanor, you assume it was due to excitement. Even if he was trying his best not to show it.
“I’m Aether.” He introduces, smile never fading.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Your Grace” He replies, “I need your help. Khaenri'ah needs you.”
You raise your brow, “Khaenri'ah?”
He nods eagerly, “I am going to restore your nation back to its former glory, and now that you’re here, I have no doubts that we can bring it back.”
“Wait a minute,” you say, “you’re not of this world, why do you care about some ancient nation from five hundred years ago?”
His closes his eyes for a moment, “you’re right. I’m not from this world, but I’ve been here since that nation stood tall and I got to experience everything it had to offer. Everything you had made.”
He caresses the back of your hands with his thumbs, “Your Grace… when you returned to Teyvat few days ago, we in the Abyss we’re immediately aware of your presence. I tried so hard to find you, and I’m mad that I didn’t find you first. I should be the only one allowed to help you, only I know the truth of this world.”
“The truth of this world?”
Aether pulls you to stand up with him, “I know this may be hard to hear, but please listen to me.”
You could feel the anxiety crawl up your back as you wait for him to continue talking. You’ve been so blindsided by the False Creator that anything else that happened in Teyvat wasn’t a concern for you at the moment.
“The archons are taking advantage of your kindness,” he begins, “your world is becoming corrupted because of them. Teyvat never had this many monsters on it before, and it’s all their doing.”
You pull your hands away from his grip, his eyes widen but he lets go. “I know how it may sound but I would never lie to you Your Grace.”
You cross your arms looking away from him, “this is a lot to take in. Are you trying to tell me that I cannot trust my own Archons?”
He shakes his head, “I would never tell you what you can and can’t do, I’m just telling you do not be blinded because you know them from the past. It’s been centuries, they can change.”
Aether reaches out to grab your hands again, you put up no fight as he laces his fingers with yours and he smiles gently. “Come with me Your Grace. Together, we can get rid of the fake you on the throne and make Teyvat whole again. The Abyss will welcome you with open arms.”
“I’m not letting them go anywhere with you.”
Behind Aether, Yelan was holding a few sticks in her hand, but you could tell she would drop them at any moment if she had to go on the defense.
“You know for someone who doesn’t want anyone to know they’re on Teyvat, a lot of people keep finding you, Your Grace.” She teases.
Aether gives Yelan a death glare but makes no attempt to unlace your hands, “you cannot protect Their Grace like I can and how dare you talk to them like that?
She scoffs at his words, “I’m letting them go anywhere with someone from- what did you say?- oh right, the Abyss. You hate humanity. Their Grace will stay here where they belong.”
He scowls but brings his attention back to you, “it seems that we are already out of time.” He lets go of your hands reaching into his pocket to hand you a particular flower. “The next time we meet, I will not allow anyone to interrupt us… and I hope that you join me in the future.”
He turns around shoving his way past the girl walking off into the darkness.
“If we have to collect fire wood later I’ll take you with me, it’s too dangerous for you to be alone.” Yelan states taking a few steps toward you before dropping the sticks on the ground. “You Grace, just like with the Fatui, the Abyss cannot be trusted. I would even say they are more dangerous, whoever that man was, you should stay far away from him.”
You say nothing staring at the flower in your hand, you recognized it’s origins the second you saw it, the flower was from Khaenri'ah. Was this his way of telling you that everything he said was the truth, that he actually was around before and during the destruction of the nation. You bring the flower close to your chest closing your eyes.
“Erm, Your Grace?”
You jump at the sound of her voice, “sorry I’m just a little distracted.”
She gives you a reassuring smile, “don’t pay any mind to whatever he said. He was probably just trying to trick you and use your powers to destroy humanity.
Yelan kneels down fixing the sticks to build a fire. Even though you nod at her explanation you couldn’t help but feel relieved that she didn’t hear everything he had told you. Trying to explain the fall of a nation that no one should know existed anymore would be impossible, especially since you still had questions about it yourself.
“Here let me do it.” You kneel down using the Pyro element to light a small fire on the wood.
Both of you sit in front of the fire in a comfortable silence, but your mind kept going back to everything Aether had told you, was he telling you the truth? Or should you believe Yelan who said that he just wanted your power for the destruction of humanity.
“You should try getting some sleep Your Grace.” Yelan whispers, “I’ll keep watch over you.”
The overwhelming sense of fatigue washes over you, “are you sure?” You ask. She nods, “Of course, I would never forgive myself if something were to happen while you’re with me and I don’t think anyone else would forgive me either. The last thing I need is two Adepti mad at me. Please sleep.”
With that final reassurance you let yourself relax in the soft grass, the ancient flower Aether gave you laid by your side as you stare up at the stars. You couldn’t help but wonder how many more people were after you. The Fatui, the Abyss, and probably the Archons as well since the Gnosis alerted your presence to them.
You let out a breath closing your eyes. Wondering who you could possibly run into next.
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A few days ago, Sumeru City
“Lumine you’ve returned, but you don’t have who I asked for…”
A few hours after Lumine and Nahida split away from the true Creator, they returned to Sumeru City. Nahida entered Irminsul like she said she would and now Lumine stood in front of the False One like before. Yet it felt different this time, if she were to mess up it wouldn’t just be her life at risk, many others were counting on her as well. The real Creator was counting on her.
The Traveler bows stiffly at them, “I have some… news regarding the task you gave me.”
They told their head at her statement sitting up straight in their throne. “Well, what is it? Don’t tell me they got away.”
“No Your Grace, it isn’t that. I managed to locate the individual I told you about. When I told them to come with me I guess they got suspicious that I was going to bring them back here and they took off running. While I was pursuing them, they fell off a ledge and…”
“Are you telling me that they are dead?”
Lumine, who was still bowing, nods a bit. “Yes, I checked myself.”
The False Creator lifts themselves of the throne walking slowly down the staircase until they stood right in front of the girl. They grip her chin lightly bringing her gaze to meet theirs.
“And where is their body now?”
“I pushed it into the river… I assumed since they look like you, no one else should see them.”
They smile, “how smart of you, but I’m still disappointed. All of amazing stories I’ve heard about you and you couldn’t do one thing I asked of you. I’m disappointed…”
Lumine swallows trying to keep her composure, she hadn’t felt this terrified since she had seen the defiled Statue of the Seven.
They let go of her chin crossing their arms behind their back, “now what should I do with you, Traveler? Can I trust you?”
“Yes your Grace! I will never tell anyone about this…”
They nod at her declaration, “don’t worry I trust you, but I can’t help but get a bit paranoid at times. So I hope you understand why I have to do this.”
“Do what?” She asks.
“Guards!” They call out and almost immediately a dozen Sumeru guards enter the room bowing as they await their orders.
“Take her and the fairy away. They’ll be staying in Sumeru for a little longer.”
The guards waste no time surrounding the Traveler pulling them away from the False Creator, Lumine tries to fight them off but there was too many of them.
“Don’t worry.” They say a smirk on their face, “I have no intention of hurting you or your companion, but I cannot risk this information getting out to any else in Teyvat.”
The Traveler is pulled out the room without another word the last thing she heard is the False Creator asking one of the guards to find Nahida immediately.
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In Liyue, present day
“Wake up sleepyhead…” a voice sings.
A groan leaves your mouth as you turn over.
“Do I have to throw water on you? C’mon time to wake up!”
You open your eyes and your met with a kneeling Yelan who smiles at you.
“Ah, there’s those beautiful eyes.” She coos, “it’s time get moving if you want to make it to Liyue Harbor before sunset.”
You sit up rubbing your eyes, “you let me sleep through the whole night? Aren’t you tired?”
“You looked exhausted. Don’t worry about me Your Grace, I’ll be fine.”
Yelan holds her hand out to help you stand and you accept rising to your feet. Not without grabbing your flower first.
“Are you going to keep that?” She asks.
You look down at it, “well it is beautiful.”
“Alright,” she hums stomping out the campfire, “you ready to leave?”
You nod, “let’s go.”
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Somewhere else in Liyue
The eleventh Fatui Harbinger was looking for someone.
It was supposed to be a close kept secret between him, the Tsaritsa, and the other Harbingers but he had accidentally slipped and told some of the soldiers under his command due to his anxiousness.
That slip up might’ve cost him what he was looking for.
He stares coldly at the few soldiers that kneeled at his feet, they were the ones he had sent to the Chasm.
“Lord Harbinger! Please forgive us!” One of them cry.
“We had no idea someone was listening to what we were saying.”
He scoffs at their excuses, “you’ve heard the saying about Liyue, there are ears everywhere. If you were under the command of any of my comrades they would waste no time in killing you.”
They tense up, even thought their eyes wasn’t visible due to their masks, they made no effort to meet his gaze.
“You’re lucky that I am in a good mood but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Find that woman.” He waves his hand and they take off.
When he and the other Harbingers witnessed the glowing of the gnosis, it had cleared many doubts he had about what the Tsaritsa was thinking.
To clarify, his doubts were about the Creator. Or rather, the False One.
The Fake Creator had been on Teyvat way before Childe was born so as he grew up with his parents had told him all the amazing things they had done.
Then he fell into the Abyss and that’s when he first encountered the idea that the one on the throne wasn’t who they claimed to be. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind putting his focus on his family until he joined the Fatui.
In the Fatui is when he was reintroduced to The Creator not being, well, The Creator. Now it wasn’t something he could just push away, he actually wanted to know if it was the truth or not. The Tsaritsa explained to him that if they collect all seven Gnosis they can summon the real Creator back to Teyvat.
So when the Jester sent him to Liyue to collect Rex Lapis Gnosis, he jumped at the opportunity.
“Lord Harbinger…” a timid voice says, “we had located the woman.”
“And?”
“You were right, they are with her.”
“Lead me there.”
-
They were right. His soldiers were right.
A few meters up ahead he could see them and the woman he instantly recognized to be Yelan. She had popped up on the Fatui’s radar years ago due to her… persuasive methods of learning Fatui secrets from the lower ranks.
It felt as if he was frozen to the ground, he never expected to find you in Liyue. He believed someone else would’ve been the one to find you, but no, it was him.
He felt so lucky, he was going to be the first Harbinger you’d talk to.
-
“…and that’s how I got this jacket.”
You laugh a bit, “well aren’t you a sneaky one?”
“You’re right, she’s always sticking her nose in business that doesn’t involve her.” Childe smiles directly at you as Yelan puts her arm up in front of you defensively.
“I knew we’d run into you, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon.”
Childe laughs, “well I hope you don’t mind me taking Their Grace off your hands then?”
Yelan’s eyes narrow, “Their Grace isn’t something you Fatui can just take as your own. They are going with me.”
He rolls his eyes at her directing his attention to you, “Her Majesty the Tsaritsa has been waiting for you for a long time Your Grace. Come with me to Snezhnaya.”
Yelan looks back at you, “Don’t listen to him. This is the Fatui Harbinger Childe that I told you about. His motives are unknown.”
You look at the Yelan then at Childe.
“We in the Fatui would never hurt our Creator.” He states.
“What does Snezhnaya even have to offer Their Grace?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” He argues.
“Both of you stop fighting!” You say suddenly causing both of them to look over at you. “What does the Tsaritsa want from me?”
His dull eyes light up at your question, “Her Majesty believes she knows where the False Creator comes from. So as soon as you made your presence known, we began searching for you.”
You step closer to him despite Yelans warnings.
“She found out where the False Creator came from?”
Childe nods, “please come to Snezhnaya with me Your Grace. The False Creator is the reason you returned, right?”
“You’re right.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste anymore time.” He clasps his hands together.
You turn giving Yelan reassuring smile, “Yelan. Thank you so much for your help up until this point, and I will never forget everything you’ve told me but I have to go with him. If whatever the Tsaritsa knows is right, that could change everything.”
She nods bitterly, “if you must go, allow me to come with you. I’ll protect you with my life.”
You reach out grabbing her hand, “That’s sweet of you but I can’t. Even if I needed protection I can tell that he is way too powerful for you to defeat on your own. I promise that I will return to Liyue.”
She hold your hand tightly, “alright then. I’ll wait for your return.”
And with that, You leave Yelan alone as you walk off with Childe.
“How are we getting to Snezhnaya?” You ask.
“By boat, it’s waiting for us right outside Liyue Harbor.”
“Right outside?” You raise a brow.
He laugh a bit, “Well people from Snezhnaya aren’t welcome in other nations anymore. It would’ve drawn unnecessary attention us if we anchored at the dock, and I doubt the Liyue Qixing would let us be there anyway.”
You suppose his explanation made sense, he wasn’t the only person to tell you how unwelcomed Snezhnaya was in other nations.
“Your Grace,” Childe says after a moment of silence. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, it’s not like there’s anything else to do.”
He keep walking but stares at you, “what did Yelan tell you? About the Fatui I mean.”
“She told me that you all have done terrible things and how a few years ago you all had an unprecedented amount of power in every nation.”
He hums, “I see…”
It falls silent once more, as you both continue walking towards the nation of Geo.
-
A few hours after you had split with Yelan and decided to join the Fatui Harbinger Childe, you two (and the rested of his crew that trailed behind you) arrived at Liyue. All you had to do was walk across the bridge and you’d be in the Harbor.
However Liyue Harbor wasn’t your destination anymore.
Right off to the side of the bridge was a fairly large sized boat, Childe leads you to the hatch allowing you to step on first then he follows.
“The trip to the Zapolyarny Palace is only a few hours,” He explains, “but you’re going to need this when we get there.”
Childe digs through a chest pulling out a luxurious coat, it was made out of the finest materials Teyvat had to offer.
“One of my comrades had this custom made just for you. Well actually he had way more than one made so no matter who had encountered you first, you would have something to keep you warm once we enter Snezhnaya.”
You take the coat from him, the second the material touches your fingers you could tell how expensive it was. There was an insane amount of care and respect put into making this.
“That is very sweet of him,” you mutter, “I should thank him once we arrive.”
He lets out a sigh resting his head in his palm muttering to himself, “it will only go to his head…”
You want to laugh at his comment but decide you should pretend you didn’t hear him. Looking out to sea, your mind finally fills with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
Even though Childe told you that the Cryo archon figured out where the False Creator came from, you kept thinking about what Aether told you the night before.
Should you trust the Archons? Was the Tsaritsa leading you to Snezhnaya with a Trojan Horse? Or was it Aether that was lying to you.
You try to shake the thoughts out of your head, it would only be a few hours before you know for sure.
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An unknown location in Sumeru City
It had been days since Lumine had been thrown into this dungeon. It wasn’t the same place the Sages had put her a year ago, it was probably a precaution so that none of her Akademiya friends found her.
“Traveler” Paimon whines, “what are we gonna do?”
Lumine brings her knees to her chest, “I don’t know Paimon. No one knows we are here, we have no way to reach out to the Creator or Nahida.
The fairy flys around sadly for a moment before her eyes widen, “wait a second! Why don’t you try reaching out to Nahida in your dreams.”
Lumine picks her head up, “you’re so smart Paimon! Maybe not using you as emergency food was a good idea.”
Paimon scoffs, “this is not the time for joking around! And for the last time, Paimon is not emergency food!”
The Traveler moves to lays down on her back steadying her breathing as she closes her eyes. Soon enough, she falls into a light slumber trying to the best of her ability to reach out to the Dendro Archon.
..
“…Nahida…?”
“Lumine…?” A familiar voice says, “I can hear you, where are you?”
“The False Creator. They locked me in some dungeon.”
“That’s horrible, did they not believe you?”
“No, I think they believed me… did you find anything in Irminsul?”
“Yes… it’s horrible… I’ve been searching for you everywhere to tell you.”
“Well, what is it?”
“The False Creator… they were created by Celestia.”
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Note: this part took way longer to put out than the others, but I just want to say thank you so much for all the love on this series and for all the follows and reblogs you all have given me. I never expected this story to do so well!! :’)
And I know, I know, many people have maybe Celestia the enemy in SAGAU (be cuz they are) but I just trust me :>
© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website
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feelbokkie · 1 year
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📱Distancing yourself from BF!SKZ after receiving hate 📱 (Part 2) (Maknae Line)
☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️
genre: heavy angst, hurt/comfort
pov: 1st & 2nd person
description: Your boyfriend finds out why you've been distancing yourself (Half smau, half written) (I am so very sorry)
pairing: bf!skz & fem!reader
warnings: swearing, break up, mention of self harm, lots of tears, let me know if I missed anything
word count: listed below
screenshot count: 4
©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.
Part 1
Part 2 (Hyung Line)
한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung) (868 words)
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“Jisung, you’re going to burn a hole in our floor,” Changbin calls from the kitchen. 
“Don’t mind him, he’s just going through Y/N withdrawals,” Hyunjin explains, not looking up from his latest art project. 
“You saw her yesterday,” Chan says, walking into the living room. 
You two did see each other yesterday when you went to bring him lunch at the company. It was only a brief interaction, you had to get back to work, but it was enough to make Jisung miss you. Which is why he wants nothing more than to spend today with you. 
“Somethings wrong, I can feel it. She called me Jisung.” 
“That’s literally your name!” Changbin yelled, throwing his hands in the air. 
“No, you don’t get it,” Jisung finally stops pacing and throws himself on the couch. “The only times she uses my first name is when she’s annoyed with me or mad at me. She’s been calling me jagiya, jagi, Sungie, or some other nickname our entire relationship.” 
“Did you miss an anniversary or something? Is that why she was she brought you lunch yesterday?” Chan questioned, determined to calm his youngest roommate’s nerves. 
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out but yesterday was just a day!” Jisung cried. 
“Fans were camping outside the studio yesterday, maybe one of them said something,” Hyunjin says without thinking. 
Had one of his fans said something to you? Jisung never wanted to make your relationship public, and this is exactly why. Everything was fine until a picture of you leaving his dorm wearing his shirt was posted online. The company gave them 2 choices: confirm the relationship or break up and deny the allegations. Breaking up was not an option. You had been good at avoiding hate comments, but neither of you had anticipated someone saying something to your face. 
“I’ll be back!” Jisung shouts before running out. 
***
“I completely understand if you want to break up with me.” Jisung wraps me in a hug as soon as I opened the door. 
“Sungie, what? Why would I want to break up with you? What did you do?” A heavy weight settles in my stomach. Did he cheat? 
Jisung lets go of me and looks me in the eyes. A sad smile creeps on his face as he places his hand on my cheek, thumb swiping just under my eye. 
“You’ve been crying.”
After yesterday’s encounter with the fans in front of the JYPE building, I fell down a rabbit hole of hate comments. If a stranger was comfortable saying that Jisung was settling with me and calling me names to my face, I had to know what was being said online. I couldn’t be blindsided like that again. But reading all those hate comments that spanned the entire time Jisung and I have been public with our relationship fucked with my anxiety. 
“I was watching a sad movie.” I force a smile.
“You don’t have to lie for me, jagi. I know you’re hurting.” Tears start falling down my face again. I don’t know how he knows, but I’m glad he does.
Ji takes my hand and leads me to my couch. He wraps me in a hug again and rubs slow circles on my back. His kindness only makes me cry harder, sobbing into his neck.
“It’s all so h-h-horrible. I didn’t do anything to anyone. I don’t know how you do it, Ji.” I whisper.
“Listen to this idiot. Crying about getting hate comments and worrying about me.” He coos.
“I’m serious, Jisung,” I pull away from him, “You’ve been dealing with this for years. You get hate but I’ve never seen it bring you down. I read hate comments for one day and I’m falling apart. And you’ve been working late all week and here you are comforting me. They’re right, I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t think that, ever again. How many people are in this relationship? How do they know anything about you or me? There is nothing wrong with falling apart every once in a while. I would be more worried if the hate didn’t get to you. I’ve seen you cry because a baby didn’t wave back at you. And the hate does get to me, but spending time with you remedies that. You’re always there for me, even when I’m having a panic attack in the middle of the night. You always take care of me. Bringing me food at the company. Waiting up late to talk to me after a concert. Just dealing with me in general, I know I can be a bit much sometimes. If anything, I don’t deserve you.” 
“Sungie—”
“What do I have to do to make you happy again? Show me the comments. I will talk to every person who has anything mean to say about you.” 
“You’re the least confrontational person I know.”
“I’ll do anything for you, you know that.”
“I know, and that’s why I love you.”
“I love you too. But you know I can’t sit here quietly while you’re suffering.”
“Can we deal with it later? I kinda wanna think about something else right now.”
“My offer for a movie marathon still stands.”
“Perfect.”
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이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok) (886 words)
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Felix had been scrolling on TikTok waiting for you to reply when he saw a video of “fans” bragging about DMing you hate. He quickly found out that it was a new trend that fans had taken over to send hate to the partners of various celebrities. He saw that you were the subject of quite a few videos.
Doing some quick math in his head, he figured that your behavior changed around the same time the first video was made.
“Fuck…” he mumbled as he scrambled to get to your apartment.
***
I blink through the tears as Felix slowly shuts my laptop and moves it out of the way. He crawls in between my legs and wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face into my stomach. I didn’t hear him come in, let alone know he was coming over. I put my phone away to try to give myself a break from reading hate comments. I was planning on watching some movies on my laptop to try to get some sleep but I got sucked back in when I saw a new tweet about me.
“Why didn’t you come to me? Why are you doing this to yourself?” Felix mumbles, turning his head so I can hear him better.
“I didn’t think it would get to me,” I whisper, stroking his hair.
“Y/N…” He finally lifts his head and looks at me with his tearful eyes. He has never liked seeing me in pain.
I don’t know how they found my social media. Everything is private. My usernames have nothing to do with my name and my profile pictures don’t show my face. I changed all that when I started dating Felix to avoid this exact situation. As an extra precaution, I don’t follow any of the Stray Kids social media accounts and I try not to engage with anything related to them. I used to get bullied in school and I didn’t want to go through that again, it put me in such a dark place. It made me someone that Felix never met. Someone that I didn’t want him to meet.
“I-I-I wasn’t going to read anything but once I started, I couldn’t stop.” My head falls into my hands and let out a choked sob.
“It’s okay, let it all out.” Felix sits up and wraps me in his arms, gently stroking my hair.
We sit like that for what felt like an hour but was probably only 20 minutes. Felix finally separates from me. I feel his hands wrap around my wrist and pull my hands from my face. My face twitches from Felix touching my right wrist. I watch as his face twist in confusion before he looks down at his hands.
“Lix, don’t…” I try to stop him before he rolls up the sleeves of my sweatshirt but fail, too tired mentally and physically to actually stop him. I turn my head before I can see the hurt in his eyes. The bed rises slightly as Felix gets up. It feels so much colder in my dark room. I squint my eyes as the light turns on and Felix makes his way back on the bed. He sets my first aid kit in between us and opens it up.
“Felix you don’t have to—”
“Y/N, just let me take care of you for once. Please?” He breathes, not looking me in the eyes. I bite my lip as he cleans the fresh wounds on my right wrist. He works quickly yet softly. Once he’s done, he checks my left wrist only to be met with old scars, mementos of how I used to be.
“Why?” He asks, stroking my left wrist.
“Old habits are hard to get rid of I guess.” I chuckle. Felix is not amused. The scars are new to him. I’ve always worn bracelets or long sleeves to cover them up. In the past, they were a relationship deal-breaker for many guys. And if they didn’t run, they treated me like a fragile doll. Being with Felix made me happy to be in a relationship with someone who wasn’t walking on eggshells.
“I’m serious. And why didn’t you come to me when all this started?” I finally look him in the eyes. They’re red but finally dry.
“I thought I could take care of it myself. I’m not who I was when I was in high school. Or, at least I thought I wasn’t. But it got so bad so fast and I found myself falling into old habits. I didn’t want you to see that side of me. I would understand if you want to break up with me now that you have.”
“I’m not going to break up with you. I get it. And I’ll take care of the comments. I don’t want you to feel like this, ever again. I want you to come to me more.” He takes my hand to his mouth and kisses it.
“I can work on that. I will work on it.”
“I will work on dealing with the hate, I promise. And in the meantime, I’m confiscating your laptop and phone. You need a break from reading about yourself. I’ll order something for us to each and we can talk some more, okay?”
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김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min) (980 words)
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“What’s wrong, Min?” Minho asked the younger boy who wandered into the kitchen for the 5th time in 10 minutes.
“Nothing’s wrong,” He grumbles.
“Are you fighting with Y/N?” He asks, tossing a cheese stick and bottle of water at him. Both hit him and fall to the floor.
“She would have to actually talk to me for there to be a fight.” He sighs, picking up the food from the floor and joining Minho at the table.
“You know, I’ve noticed that you two are really similar. You push people away when you’re upset, she might just be the same way.”
“Yeah, but you guys always figure out why I’m upset and cheer me up. I have no idea what’s bothering her.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Seungmin thought about your behavior over the past couple of weeks. Nothing stands out to him. You two had gone on a couple of dates and you seemed happy. There are no anniversaries or major events that he had missed. You have been spending more time reading on your phone. One time he woke up in the middle of the night to find you reading something on your phone. He thought nothing of it as he grabbed your phone and put it on his side of the bed to force you to sleep. He thought that your quiet sniffling was because you were cold. But you could have been crying. About what?
“Aw shit,” He mutters when figures out what happened.
***
“Go home, Seungmin!” I shout through the door. He used to have a key to my apartment, but in a freak accident, it broke in the lock. With everything, I had yet to make him a new copy. 
“Y/N, if you don’t let me in, I’ll scream.” I wait a few seconds, wanting to call his bluff, but I don’t want to take the chance that he’ll actually do it. My neighbors will call the police if he did. That’ll be a fun news day on dispatch.
I open the door and pull him in before he could cause a scene.
“You’re worse than Jisung, you know that right?” I quip, shutting the door behind us.
“Jisung hyung wouldn’t have given you a warning.” He smirks.
“What are you doing here? I told you that I don’t want to do this right now.” I cross my arms and head to my room.
“We don’t have to. I just want to see you. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, but I told you I’m busy.” His eyes trail my body and he scoffs.
“You look like you just woke up. Your hair is a mess and you’re still in your PJs.”
“I’ve been up all day actually.”
“Then you look like you need a break. Let’s take a nap.” Seungmin lays down on my bed and pulls me down with him. He wraps his arm around me and pins me to his chest. I try to get up but his steady heartbeat and scent calm me down. I haven’t been sleeping well for the past couple of weeks. The familiarity of Seungmin quickly lulls me into a deep sleep.
“Let’s break up.” Seungmin whispers as I slowly open my eyes.
“What?” I shoot up and look at Seungmin.
“Being with me is only causing you pain. It’s the only thing I can think of to give you some peace.” His eyes are red like he’s been crying. He must have figured out why I’ve been avoiding him and he couldn’t help but spiral.
“Seungmin, I know I pushed you away, but I don’t want you to leave. None of this is your fault, so stop blaming yourself. How is us breaking up fair?” He finally sits up.
“I never said it was fair. It’s a solution. Can you honestly tell me that you haven’t thought about it?”
He’s right, I did think about how breaking up would put an end to all of this. Only for a moment before I thought about how miserable both of us would be. How I would miss waking up to his sweet smile. The delirious long-distance calls we would have while he was on tour. How he would complain about me cuddling up next to him and whine when I tried to get up. His scent. His voice. Him.
“I’ll deal with it. I’ve been dealing with it because I want to be with you. You’re worth it. I just need a little time to adjust.” I place my hand on his and gently rub my thumb back and forth.
“It’s not worth it.”
“But you are.” I smile softly.
“No, I’m not,” His smile drops.
“Yes, you are,”
“I promise you I’m not.” I kiss him quickly.
“I promise you that you are. If I don’t engage— if I don’t let them see how they’re getting to me, they’ll get bored and stop.”
“If that’s your plan, then why have you been avoiding me?”
“Because I know that seeing me upset makes you upset. I didn’t want you going off on Stay and getting in trouble.”
“You’re literally going through a psychological hell and you’re still trying to take care of me.” He laughs.
“You would do the same for me. You already have. I know you’ve been hiding those comments from me the entire time we’ve been together. Reading those comments about me couldn’t have been good for you either. I know I get super depressed when I read hate comments about you.” I figured out he had taken my phone at some point before our relationship went public and muted any mentions of my name so I wouldn’t see any hate comments. He really thought ahead.
“God, I love you.”
“I love you too. Since you’re here, can we order food and start that drama Jisung recommended?”
“Whatever you want.”
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양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In) (780 words)
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Jeongin knew that you were receiving hate. It was only natural in this situation. Some “fans” were bold enough to bring signs to concerts telling him to leave you for them or make comments at fan signs. As far as he knew, you didn’t read anything. If you did, you never let on.
But lately, you’ve been down and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t family or work, you always came to him to vent if something happened. It wasn’t anything he had done, you’d freeze him out for a couple of hours before confronting him about it. And you wouldn’t miss watching a movie with your favorite actor, even if you were mad at him. That much he knew. The only logical explanation is that the hate was finally getting to you.
He spent the whole journey to your apartment talking to Chan to get some advice on what to do.
***
I felt bad for forgetting about the movie. Innie’s right, I had been talking about it for months. But the idea of leaving the house right now is dreadful. 
A few pictures of me, taken without my knowledge, have ended up online over the past few weeks. Fans have been having a field day criticizing every little thing about me. They complain about my weight. My style. The way I part my hair. I knew I was getting hate. I saw one comment when Jeongin and I first announced our relationship. I convinced myself that it would die down and ignored it. I lived in blissful ignorance for a little over a year before a comment that a “friend” of mine retweeted made its way on my feed. It went downhill from there.
“Innie? Why are you here? I thought you would go straight home.” I asked when I found Jeongin at my front door looking disheveled and holding flowers.
“I figured out what’s wrong.” He places the flowers in my hand and kisses my cheek before making his way into my apartment.
“You did?” Out of instinct I walk in the kitchen and place the flowers in a vase full of water and walk it out to the living room. Jeongin is sitting in the armchair that has basically become his designated spot throughout our relationship.
“Why didn’t you come talk to me about the hate getting to you?” I sit on the side of the couch closest to him and lean forward with my elbows on my thighs.
“I didn’t know how to bring it up.” I sigh.
“How long has this been going on?”
“About two months, after I went to watch your music bank performance.” My eyes start to sting thinking about the unflattering picture and the comments that ensued.
“Two months? I would have thought two weeks with how you’re handling it.”
“I thought I was handling it, but I'm not. I can’t.” I choke out.
“Okay, we can figure this out. Chan hyung said—” Jeongin gets up from his spot on the armchair and joins me on the couch.
“I think we should break up,” I suggest, not even looking at him. I can’t bear the look on his face.
“Break up?”
“I love you with my whole heart, it hurts. It’s just that this world that you live in… I’m not cut out for it. I don’t belong. I’m not built to deal with so many people attacking me for just existing.”
“I can make it stop. I will make it stop.” He gently grabs my chin and forces me to finally look at him. His eyes are full of tears, but they aren’t falling.
“Jeongin, I’m sorry but I need to put myself first for once. All this hate is slowly but surely killing me.”
“I’ll… I’ll quit! I’ll leave Stray Kids and all of this will stop.” He pleads.
“You and I both know that if you leave, it’ll just get worse. And you love your job. The way your eyes sparkle when you talk about your music or when you nail a new choreography—I can’t take that from you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” I stroke the hair on the back of his head, trying to call him down.
“So, this is it? We call it quits and everything goes away?” The tears finally falling down his face.
“I just want to be happy, but I can’t do that in this current situation. I need you to let me go.” Jeongin closes the gap between us and places both hands on each cheek, pressing his lips to my forehead.
“I just want you to be happy too. I love you, I’ll let you go.”
Buy me a coffee?
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stsgluver · 9 months
Note
gojo hours (aka 24/7) is so real!!!! as for prompts i have been floating around with this but secret dating but they’re 100% so obviou about it. they also have the audacity to act surprised when they are accused of dating (by students or friends)
the idea was inspired by a prompt i saw with “let’s compare hands for science.” / “what?” / “it’s not like we haven’t done anything worse.”
HE WOULDN'T EVEN TRY TO BE SUBTLE.
you were both teachers at tokyo, having met as students so you'd known each other well over a decade.
when you were teenagers it was a very much will-they-won't-they relationship and you were both so so close to it being the real thing... but then toji fushiguro happened and haibara died and then suguru left to kill non-sorcerers and gojo isolated himself to the point where the two of you would barely say a greeting to each other when in passing.
it wasn't till you came back to be a teacher (you'd left tokyo high to work as a sorcerer independently for six years after graduation) that you two began to reconnect.
and it wasn't till about twelve months prior to the present that you had finally agreed to go on a date with him.
it was an unspoken agreement to keep the relationship under wraps. gojo was terrified the second he acknowledged you to the jujutsu world he'd lose you and you wanted people to respect you for your skills as a grade one sorcerer and not be reduced to a special grade's side piece.
you hadn't out right said it was secret but neither of you were jumping to tell anyone you were official.
gojo, however, had slipped back into old habits very quickly and, even before the two of you had started your secret escapades, your students and friends around you were suspicious. anyone with a pair of eyes could see how much gojo doted on you.
he brought you pastries, stayed back with you after class to clear rooms up, and was the first to have a go at the higher-ups whenever they'd blindside you and send you on a mission too difficult for one sorcerer alone (even they were getting suspicious of your relationship and wanted to see how far he'd go for you).
yuji and nobara had been at jujutsu high for two weeks before they met you. the two plus megumi had left class in search of gojo when they'd come across him speaking to you.
there was mere inches between the two of you. satoru had even lifted off his blindfold to speak to you, head tilted slightly with his lips tilted into a smirk as you ranted about the latest instant that the higher ups had managed to piss you off.
"is that gojo-sensei's girlfriend?" yuji had asked megumi, him and nobara sharing suspicious glances.
"no. she's the second year's teacher.”
"but they're close-close.”
“i know.”
"are you sure they’re not dating?”
megumi sighed. “i don’t care. go ask them.”
so he did.
yuji’s pink flop of hair appeared between the two of you, causing you to jump and take a step back from satoru to accommodate for the student. "are you two dating?"
"hi- what- no, us?" you stammered out, pointing between yourself and satoru as you adamantly shook your head.
"yuji!” satoru wrapped one arm around the boy’s shoulders and one arm around yours, “this is yn!"
he didn’t deny the question.
AND THE COMPARING HAND SIZES?
gojo does it regularly. any chance he can get.
he love love loves your height difference.
he's 6'3 so being taller than everyone isn’t unusual for him but something about being taller than you made him giggly.
the two of you had gone to the park with the first years for well deserved ice cream (kikufuku for gojo), and when yuji and nobara begin arguing over who has the largest pinky finger, gojo found it to be the perfect opportunity to compare your own fingers.
"let's compare hands for science," satoru would wriggle his eyebrow at you, pulling back the sleeve of his uniform jacket to clearly present you his hand (and also give you a glimpse of his toned forearm that he knows you love).
you rolled your eyes, glancing to the three students that were only metres away from you doing the same thing.
"what? right now?"
"it's just comparing hand sizes,” satoru dismissed before a mischievous look appeared on his delicate features. he bent down to your height, the hairs on the back of your neck lifting as he whispered, “plus it's not like we haven't done anything worse in pub-"
"megumi's watching us.” you cleared your throat, trying to keep your composure and not make it obvious the you’re affected by his indirect recounts of particular times together.
gojo grinned, standing up tall and grabbing your wrist absentmindedly to compare sizes despite your protests. “he asked me yesterday if i liked you again.”
"what did you say?” your hand was dwarfed by his, and it always shocked you how smooth his skin felt against yours despite the years and years of fighting against curses.
satoru interlocked your fingers and pressed a soft kiss between your knuckles. “that i loved you, of course.”
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heliads · 9 months
Text
there's things i want to say to you
No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.
masterlistT
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You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.
Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.
You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?
So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.
You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.
The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.
You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.
In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.
In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.
He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.
You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.
You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”
Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”
Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”
“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”
Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.
Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”
Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.
You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.
It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?
The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!
(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 
Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.
Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.
That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.
They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.
There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.
Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.
“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”
Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”
You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”
Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”
“It might be you,” you tell him.
He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”
You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”
“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.
You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”
Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”
Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.
You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.
Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.
At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. ��It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”
You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—
You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”
“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 
There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”
“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.
It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 
You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”
Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”
“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 
He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 
Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”
He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.
“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”
“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 
“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”
If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”
He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 
And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 
It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.
You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.
No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.
It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.
He’s insufferable. You love him. 
You love him. 
It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—
But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.
Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.
It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.
It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.
The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.
It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.
Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.
You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.
A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.
Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on–”
You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.
You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—
Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”
You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”
Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”
“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 
“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”
“No!” You shout back.
Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”
You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”
Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.
You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.
You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.
Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.
“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”
You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.
You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.
He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 
You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.
Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”
After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.
f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey
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ghcstao3 · 5 months
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french ghost making a return because. well i don’t have a reason just because. but this one’s a proper AU
anyway johnny taking a vacation in the south of france just… to get away from things for a while. it’s been a month or so since a bad break up of a long term relationship, and he felt like he might implode if he didn’t do something.
the problem is, he hardly speaks french. barely enough to get by with simple phrases, certain his pronunciation is horrible. but even so, he makes the stupid decision of setting up a dating profile with a google-translated bio just to see… just to see.
that’s how he meets simon. somehow, through (surely) poorly-translated texts, they get to know each other in brief, until johnny says fuck it and agrees to a date far too quickly because he has nothing better to do.
even if it goes horribly wrong when he has to admit to not knowing french—whether or not simon knows any english.
johnny sits nervously at the small, local restaurant that had been chosen, wringing his hands in wait for simon. he had gotten there too early, he knows, but he needed that push or else he might not have come at all. but then simon arrives, even better in person than the photos of his own profile.
simon joins johnny with a shy smile on his face, greeting him with a quiet salut before… continuing in english.
if johnny weren’t so blindsided by its use, he knows he’d be absolutely enamoured with simon’s accent. instead, he sits wide-eyed, staring at simon while his heart pounds in his ears.
“how did you know?” johnny eventually manages to ask.
simon laughs softly, a fucking wonderful sound. “i could tell from your messages,” he says. “but i didn’t want to ruin your fun.”
from there, the night goes smoothly (more than smoothly, in fact, being that it ends with johnny in simon’s bed… but that’s his own business)—they chat about any and everything, simon teaches him a few words and phrases, and johnny tells simon about his home, why he’s in france.
they spend nearly the entirety of the rest of johnny’s trip together—johnny doesn’t think he’s ever felt a connection with anyone like this before, not even with his previous ex. it’s bitter when he eventually has to leave, having to bid simon farewell without ever knowing if they’d see each other again, if this could ever be anything more than a holiday fling.
(they will meet again though, of course. after all, johnny still has to learn french somehow. and what better way than through experience?)
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aeternallis · 1 year
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A Deep Dive: Kim’s Fight Scene in Yok’s Bar
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I’ve been thinking about this scene a lot lately, and I just have so many thoughts on it. 
Like low-key, but imo what makes this scene so mesmerizing yet also chilling at the same time is the fact that Kim never eliminates the possibility of Chay turning around at any time and witnessing Kim kill in order to protect him. 
Whereas Porsche tends to protect Chay by keeping him from seeing the reality of the mafia life (and tragically blindsides both himself and his brother because of it; Chay because he remains ignorant of his new environment and Porsche because his judgement of the risks in keeping Chay ignorant is impaired due to his overprotectiveness), Kim protects him only from the danger of it.
It’s an all around interesting narrative choice from BOC, especially considering that it’s Kim’s one fight scene in the entire series. 
I’ve seen many posts on here before of how Kim leaves the dead bodies for Chay like a feral cat or that he really took the mantra “nobody disturbs my man” up a notch or two, and while I definitely agree with all that on a surface level, I can’t help but think there’s so much more going on. Dare I say, maybe even a little manipulative? Hmm. 
Because for reals, there’s a reason why this fight scene makes such an impression on so many fans--the KimChay fans (including myself), in particular--and I think it’s because so much of the context of the fight, as much as the fight itself and the events leading up to it, reveals so much about Kim’s character post-break up w/ Chay. 
Like yes, there’s the aesthetic reasons and ofc, Jeff Satur and that beautiful face of his that looks like it was sculpted on a Saturday by the gods, but there’s just so much to be said in the way he’d fought and more importantly, ended the fight. 
@wildelydawn​ wrote up an amazing meta post  about how Kim fights, for which I highly recommend y’all read if you haven’t already. I definitely agree with the idea that Kim likes to play with his prey when he fights; he knows how to improvise and use his environment as sources of weapons, and he’s definitely got a bit of a sadistic streak going for him, lol. 
Now, where am I going with this? Well, let’s very briefly look at the events leading up to the fight: from the moment they break up in ep 11, to one of the very last scenes in ep 13 when Kim finds out that Porsche and Chay have left the tower, somewhere in between those events, Chay had become Kim’s singular goal and most important priority. Whereas before his goal had been to investigate Porsche and Chay’s connection to the Theerapanyakun family, directly after the break up is when this plotline falls through because his investigation hits a dead end at the temple. 
For me personally, methinks it’s the moment he finds out that Chay skipped his college interview in ep 12 and what a massive fuck up he’d just committed. As much as I adore him as a character, I don’t really think he knew the repercussions of his own actions until it was too late, alas. Ultimately, he’s not responsible for Chay’s choices, but he can’t deny that his previous actions influenced them. 
Whether it was wanting to confess his own feelings to Chay, or perhaps setting him straight because he skipped his college interview, or wanting to keep him safe, or even just to talk to him and clear the air--the point is, regardless of his reason(s), getting to Chay becomes his next target. And more than that, once Kim sets his crosshairs on a goal--especially on this one person he’s got a romantic attachment to--he is positively ruthless. 
You barely see it from how fast the camera cuts out, but if you pause at just the right moment, you can see how Kim’s expression is absolutely seething when Korn stops him from going to look for the Kittisawasd brothers (or perhaps even just Chay himself). 
This is the expression of someone who’s more than willing to obliterate anyone who gets in the way of him and his goal. This is an expression of utter resentment. This is the expression of someone who’s itching for a fight, because the universe dared to get in between him and his goal. 
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(Side bar: I’m pretty sure part of the reason Jeff got the role of Kim Theerapanyakun is because of how intense his method acting can be. He doesn’t have many roles under his belt just yet, but if you haven’t seen He She It, I recommend giving it a go. His acting in that mini drama is a little rough around the edges, but the raw intensity by which he plays the character of Mike definitely highlights some of Jeff’s natural talent. He knows how to act with his eyes and his entire body, and when given the right director to guide him, as we’ve seen when he portrays the role of Kim, he truly thrives in his role.)
Yet still, for all his anger at being prevented by his father from getting to his goal, he’s mindful enough to know that he can’t just go against his orders either. Korn is the enemy of an entirely different caliber, and Kim perfectly knows how and when to pick his battles.
But it isn’t until we see him in the next ep quietly watching Chay from the bar that another facet of his character growth is revealed to us: by this point in time, he’s comfortable in his feelings for Chay enough that he can finally allow himself to luxuriate in his presence, even whilst knowing he’s in the metaphorical dog house.
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His arms are propped up, his legs are loosely crossed, his body language is relaxed, whilst still very much aware of his surroundings. Keep in mind, this is the first time since the morning of the kidnapping that we see him perfectly content in Chay’s presence, now fully aware that there’s no reason for lies between them anymore. The only one left is the one he has to fix.
Yet, after all this time of trying to get ahold of Chay ( @bitacrytic​ wrote an interesting piece about Kim’s unsettling behavior when he realized Chay had cut him off, which I also highly recommend), why didn’t he take the opportunity to talk (or whatever it is he intended to do) when he was finally within sight? The camera shot of Chay talking to Yok on his phone, as well as of Kim sitting on the stool, lingers for a good 20-25 secs, so the audience is given a hint that Kim has been there for a while.
So why not take advantage of this chance?
And the answer to this question, I think, is what’s at the heart of the matter and basically defines the connotation of the entire fight.
Kim is not a fool, he knows for the time being he’s number 1 on Chay’s shit list. And because of this, it may be a stretch to say it, but I will anyway: perhaps off screen, from the moment he had him within sight, Kim may have realized that it would do him no good to talk to Chay at that moment. Not when there’s an imminent threat lying in wait, not when the heartbreak is still too raw for both of them. 
Most of all, Chay has no reason to trust him right now; it would just be a repeat of their disastrous confrontation in the club.
And he knows all too well that he cannot afford to sabotage what truly little standing he has left in Chay’s good graces. So he plays it cautious and takes the next best thing: he’ll bask in Chay’s presence, keep him company (albeit one-sided). If you scroll back up real quick and see his expression in the promotional image, it’s almost as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘keep your eyes on the prize--on him. he’s the only one that truly matters.’ 
But even so, Chay’s safety is his priority for the moment and there’s just so many reasons Kim is itching to vent some anger and frustration: the boy he loves has cut him off completely, Daddy is hatching up some plan again, besides the ongoing 4D chess game he’s got going on with all his sons, his investigation led him nowhere. Yet lo and behold, here comes some goons who not only disturbed his peaceful serotonin-gathering session (unbeknownst to Chay), but are also looking to either use the love of his life as leverage in a conflict that barely has anything to do with him, or just outright kill him. 
Really, no one can blame Kim for going a little overboard, not when these poor suckers basically offered themselves to him on a silver platter. Lol 
While I won’t go too deep into analyzing the physicality or choreography of the fight itself, I’d like to instead focus on all the things Kim chose/chose not to do, which again, says so much about his character and brings me back to my overarching thesis for this long ass rant: Kim never eliminates the possibility of Chay turning around at any time and witnessing Kim kill in order to protect him.
Kim doesn’t call out for Chay to run: this makes sense, it’s a practical choice; he doesn’t want these men to draw their attention on Chay. So long as they’re focused on him, so long as he distracts them--he can kill them one by one. 
Kim doesn’t draw the men away from the bar: an interesting choice that seems like it never crosses Kim’s mind. He’s more than agile enough to have led them away from where they’d entered, yet he keeps them all inside. 
Kim didn’t wait for them outside: another interesting choice. Arguably, it would have been more efficient for him to have taken some bodyguards and do a stake out. Further still, it’s also arguable this choice is more an emotional one (he wants Chay where he can see him, dammit), but that’s up for debate. 
Kim waits until the last possible second to use a gun: a risky choice, but he pulled it off quite well. He doesn’t go for the gun until the goons have him surrounded within Chay’s vicinity, so he goes for fast kills to end the fight even if it’s not his personal preference. Imo, it’s very obvious throughout the fight that he finds some satisfaction in twisting limbs and breaking bone, so good on him that he got to indulge for a bit. 
And finally, immediately right after the fight, he never tries to pull this one over Chay’s head: 
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This one is pretty self-explanatory, I think. Hahaha. 
But after Kim shoots the last man, he doesn’t linger for too long. Which again, why doesn’t he take advantage of yet another chance that’s fallen onto his lap to talk to Chay? The danger has been dealt with for now, after all. Why not at least attempt at some sort of clean up, maybe pile the bodies on one corner so Chay doesn’t trip over them? :’D If not to talk to Chay, why not at least linger in the shadows, to make sure Chay is all right (he’s bound to turn around eventually)? 
Instead, he walks away, still panting a bit from the fighting and without a doubt, from the adrenaline rush. His body language is hard to read because his silhouette is blurred, but it’s at this point that BOC could have easily concluded this scene. 
They could have left this scene as is, and made the aftermath of the fight as vague as possible, because for what it’s worth, it would have still accomplished one of the main points for KimChay: Kim’s priority is Chay’s immediate safety. 
But it’s not the end of the scene. BOC made damn sure that we would see the aftermath, and with it--the changed dynamic between these two characters and the very implications of it. They didn’t leave it vague whatsoever, they pretty much shoved it in our faces. 
This scene--this f*cking scene RIGHT HERE--blows wide open a potential trajectory of KimChay’s love story if/when we ever get a season 2.
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I think for the first and only time in the show, this shot of Kim sitting on the stairway, enjoying a cigarette after a murder spree, mind you—is the first time we see him fully stripped away of any pretenses in not only the way he loves and protects someone, but how far he can get lost within his own emotions when he has no reason to hold back. He doesn’t even look the least bit concerned for Chay’s emotional well-being, because that’s not his priority when he chose to leave those men lying on the bar’s floors. 
If anything, in this specific situation, not holding back benefits him greatly. 
For the first time, his character in the show is explicitly elevated to the same level of batshit insane as Kinn and Vegas, perhaps even beyond them.
We’ve seen how WiK had won over Chay, of how tender Kim could be with him, but the fight in Yok’s bar and the conclusion of it afterwards, demonstrates how far Kim’s sharpest, most deadliest aspect of himself—Kimhan, will go in order to win back Chay. Even in trying to get Chay within his orbit once more, he remains just as calculating: he doesn’t let his own gut instinct (actually wanting to talk with Chay) get the better of him; he uses the situation, in this case--even Chay--to give himself the best advantage. Can you imagine how terrifying that is? 
It’s no wonder Korn calls him the strongest, yet most dangerous of the Theerapanyakul heirs: regardless of whether Kim holds back or not depending on the given situation, he remains just as sharp, just as deadly, just as cunning. In the first KP novel, Korn presents a question to the readers indirectly: in their world, is love a weakness or is it strength?
For Kim, the answer is obvious: it’s a weakness, but he won’t allow it to be one for himself or for Chay. 
And due to all this, there’s only one conclusion I can come up with as to what this shot of Kim sitting on the stairway outside Yok’s bar was trying to accomplish:
Kim—this conniving, devious, gorgeous motherfucker—absolutely wanted Chay to see the dead bodies now littering Yok’s bar.
In fact, I can even argue that he seemed to have been waiting for confirmation that Chay saw his “present.” That he had all the time in the world to make sure his bae got a good look at his kills.
Why, you ask? Simple. Kim trusts Chay’s backbone made of steel. He trusts him to be able to handle it. Why else would he let himself enjoy a smoke after killing 6 people in 6 mins? Why doesn’t he look concerned?! Why not give Chay some comfort, goddamn...! We know this fucker is in love w/ Chay, the dumbass was crying over his polaroids earlier that day. //sobs 
But in all seriousness...Kim has firsthand experience of going up against it, doesn’t he? He himself saw how determined Chay could be when he cut himself off entirely from Kim, both from when he pulled his hand away in the club and then blocking his number a day or two later. I don’t necessarily think it’s that Kim overestimated Chay’s love for him, but rather he initially underestimated Chay’s resilience in keeping him away after breaking his heart so terribly.
This son of a bitch (affectionate) sobbed his pathetic heart out after finding out Chay blocked his number, probably took a good look at himself (and Chay’s cute polaroids), and came to one conclusion: “yeah, Chay can handle me. I can go all in now.”
In fairness, Chay’s steadfastness can only improve and strengthen from here on out. Kim--although in love with Chay, but does have his moments of volatile moods and cold verbal wit--is not an easy person to love, as Chay is slowly finding out the hard way. He must be able to confidently call Kim out when the latter needs to be reminded to respect him, that Chay will not take any of his shit. 
Ironically enough, in creating an original story for these two characters in the show, it also brings them closer to the dynamic they have in the novel, imo. I myself have only read parts of the novel, and because we barely see KimChay in the book, it’s hard to tell how much closer show!KimChay is to novel!KimChay, but there’s hints of some similarities here and there in terms of character dynamics. Make of that what you will~ 
Let’s play Devil’s Advocate for a hot sec though, and address the rebuttal: “but won’t this only drive Chay further away from Kim and a life in the mafia?”
My answer to that is: will it though? Chay has more reasons to stay in the world Porsche forced him to enter than he ever has in leaving it. BOC cemented this fact when they decided to keep Namphueng alive, nevermind the fact that Chay’s one positive, healthy parental figure, is now the minor family head and as much as he’d like for it not to be true, he’s still in love with Kim. 
But to reiterate, Kim trusts Chay’s backbone made of steel in a way that Porsche doesn’t (again, due to aforementioned overprotectiveness, which also serves as the fundamental difference in how they both protect Chay). But the reasoning behind placing his trust in Chay isn’t entirely selfless either. 
He trusts Chay to be able to handle the disturbing scene of the dead bodies he left behind, because he has something to gain from it.
By leaving behind the dead goons for him to find, Kim inadvertently breaks another piece of Chay’s upright perception of the world, ensnares him further into Kim’s reality—and most of all, to Kim himself.
It’s a terrifying level of honesty (and wooing??) coming from Kim because it’s so brutal in its execution. What makes it even more frightening is that he’s genuinely doing this out of his desire to be with Chay. His priority during the fight is Chay’s safety, yes, but his overarching goal after their break up remains the same: to get Chay back. 
It drives home the fact that although Kim loves only a handful of people in his life, he loves them fiercely to the point of questionable insanity.
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its-time-to-write · 6 months
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i hold it like a grudge - ch. 1
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okayyy so I’m completely done with this fic! I’m editing my posts now, and I’m not sure if it’ll all get done tonight. Definitely tomorrow. Here’s the first chapter, hope you enjoy!
table of contents you have everything (you still want more)
To say you were blindsided would be a gross understatement. 
You were metaphorically slapped in the face so hard that you feel like you have a broken neck due to whiplash.
Your boyfriend had been away for the week with his football team, and you hadn’t been able to go with him. So you’d done what any WAG would do and watched the match on his giant telly, all decked out in pale blue.
Life with Jamie Tartt as your boyfriend was great. You’d been dating since secondary school while he was in the academy. It was strange to go from chicken shop dates to meals that cost more than your rent. He’d promised to pay for your uni fees which was a godsend because there was no way you’d be able to afford it on your own. You both had a whole future planned together.
Which is why you’re shocked to see Jamie’s name in the papers, followed by the name Keeley Jones.
And a picture of them kissing.
You aren’t even googling him when you find out. You’re out for groceries of all things, groceries for his welcome-home dinner in a day and a half. His name catches your eye so you stop to smile at him before you realize what you’re looking at.
The world goes fuzzy, your gaze locked on their lips.
In a single moment, your world has been tilted completely on its head.
You find yourself in Jamie’s too-large flat, staring at your phone, willing yourself to press the green call button.
You take a shallow breath and hold the phone up to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost to the point where it’ll go to voicemail, but then you hear Jamie say, “What?”
“What?” you reply, “what do you mean, what? I should be the one asking you that? What the fuck are you doing kissing an instagram model??”
Jamie snorts and says four words that cause your heart to drop like a stone.
“We’re broken up, babe.”
Your breath is coming in too fast and too shallow. “When were you going to tell me that we fucking broke up? And don’t call me babe!” you choke out.
Jamie says, “Thought it were implied,” in a dismissive voice. It’s foreign to you. He’s never spoke to you- to anyone like this before.
“Right, okay, yeah, makes total sense. I find out we’ve broken up after seeing you in the papers with another girl,” you retort.
“Glad it’s finally clicking,” Jamie says. It’s strange how much he can hurt you, even through the phone. 
A voice calls him in the background, a voice you presume belongs to Keeley Jones, and then there’s silence. He’s hung up. 
You stare at your phone for a long, long time. 
All you can think about is what you did wrong. You comb Jamie’s flat for anything that belongs to you, shove it into your car, and drive back to your own, too-small too-crowded flat. 
You wonder if you were too clingy as you carefully fold up every Man City kit. You think it’s possible you weren’t affectionate enough as you stack every polaroid photo. You wonder if maybe it has to do with your physical appearance as you hunt for scissors and some matches.
You try to make yourself not care as you burn the photos and cut up the shirts.
Your hands linger over a maroon away kit. It was always your favorite, and for a moment you consider keeping it.
Then you remember Jamie saying, glad it’s finally clicking as though you never meant anything, so you grab the scissors and cut it into shreds.
Uni is out of the question. There is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to afford it so you start two full-time jobs. 
Every day feels like a struggle to breathe. You get out of bed and tell yourself I can do this as you get ready for work and tighten your budget. The drowning feeling never quite goes away, but the months pass all the same. 
You’re grateful that although you don’t save a lot of money, you’re able to pay your bills on time. Your flatmates generally leave you alone when you’re home, but you’ve found ice cream in the freezer with your name on it that you know you didn’t buy. They’ll place a blanket over you every time you fall asleep on the couch, and fervently ban all Manchester City merchandise from entering the flat.
Breakthrough comes in the form of a gift.
A literal gift, and one you’re giving, not receiving.
It’s a set of earrings for a friend, hoops with her name set around them. She wears them to work exactly once, and the next thing you know, orders are pouring in. 
It’s enough that you quit one job, then the next, then hire both flatmates to help you in the evenings. Pretty soon, there’s an opportunity for you to open a small shop in a part of London. You get a larger flat (all to yourself!) and before long, Manchester blue no longer haunts you.
The bell above the door rings, signifying a customer. 
“Hi, you okay?” you say from behind the counter. You turn around and lock eyes with Keeley Jones, followed by Jamie Tartt.
Just breathe.
Jamie looks spooked, well, he looks spooked to you. Not sure if anyone else would know his expressions well enough to catch the shock cross his face. Keeley smiles brightly, and you can see that same adoring look you used to have. Maybe a little muted, she’s more mature than you were, so she probably understands her role in this relationship. Enjoy it while you can, get out before it hurts.
You can’t think about it now so before Jamie can ruin anything more you decide to play dumb and fucking introduce yourself as though your ex-boyfriend and the woman he shagged behind your back aren’t in your safe space that you created to escape him.
Keeley didn’t know, you remind yourself, except at this point it’s more of a prayer of faith hingeing on Jamie’s apparent selfish nature. There’s a good chance he didn’t mention you, a far cry from the boy who used to follow you grocery shopping because he liked to be with you (and so he could slip his card in the register before you had a chance to protest).
“Hi, I’m Keeley,” she says with a smile. “This one’s Jamie, but you’ll be hearing more about him I’m sure. He’s a footballer on loan to AFC Richmond, and he’s fucking brilliant on the pitch.”
You copy her smile. “How can I help you?”
“I saw your earrings on instagram, and I absolutely had to get some. Then when we moved here, I wanted to see your shop! And this one said he’d get them for me, isn’t that sweet?” 
Keeley wraps herself around Jamie’s arm, oblivious to the way he can’t figure out how to react.
He settles on a nod and a grunt, so you pull out different hoop sizes and letter fonts, and get to work.
She settles on gold, with tiny letters spelling Keeley.
“They’ll be ready for pickup in three days,” you say, ushering them out the door.
Keeley hasn’t stopped smiling this whole time and in contrast, Jamie hasn’t stopped frowning, but they’ve made their purchase and are headed down the street.
The moment they’re well and truly gone, you pull out your phone and Google, Jamie Tartt richmond. The top results are all about his loan from City to AFC Richmond, your Richmond; your escape is no longer an escape. It’s only a matter of time before his face is plastered all around town. The thought of it turns your stomach.
But there’s no way you’ll ever see him. 
So you get through your day like normal, head back home, and play too-loud music through your headphones as you cook dinner. By the time it’s ready, you’re dancing to Islands in the Stream with all worries about Jamie firmly banished from your mind.
table of contents
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moonflvver · 3 months
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Starlight
character: Katsuki Bakugou x reader
warnings: angst (with fluff)
a/n: This is probably one of my favorite pieces about Bakugou that I've written. Also, I'm clearing out my drafts so expect an influx of posts over the next few days. And I'm getting back into mha so trust that there will be lots of Katsuki content in the future lol.
w/c: 1297
He was running his fingers through his hair as his jaw clenched. “What the fuck do you want from me then? What do you want? Because I just can’t figure it out. No matter what I do for you it’s never enough.”
You sighed, you were getting tired of having the same argument with him over and over again. And now of course he was turning this on you. Of course Bakugou Katsuki just couldn’t fucking admit that he was in the wrong for once. 
“What I want is for you to care about yourself Katsuki. I want you to stop overexerting yourself and coming home with an injury every other night. I want to trust that you’ll be safe when you’re out there.” You were trying your hardest not to let him hear your voice shake but it cracked mid-sentence nonetheless. 
It was just too much. God you loved him, of course you did. But he was too stubborn for his own good and he refused to stop pushing himself to the very edge of his limits. But that’s the thing about Bakugou, he’s a star. I mean it sounds silly to say but it’s true. 
He’s not just good at what he does, he’s great. But there’s something in him that refuses to let him enjoy what he has at any given moment and that’s the problem. They say that the stars that shine the brightest burn out the fastest and you know Katsuki better than anyone, so it’s clear to you that he’s just one mission away from crashing and burning. Which is why you can’t stop. If he won’t care for himself then you have to do it for him. 
“You don’t get it do you? I can’t just stop doing my job. People need me, people depend on me. I keep this city safe. I won’t drop it all just for you.” He shouted back. 
“Just for me, are you serious? Do I really mean that little to you, that you’d choose your own self destructive tendencies over me?” You’re crying now, tears are running down your face as you look at him. “I need you too, Katsuki.” You mumble, looking up at him.
Fuck. He looks exhausted and you’re sure that you don’t look any better, especially not after all of the crying you’ve been doing. But it’s clear that the long hours he’s been working have taken a serious toll on him and it makes you sob just a bit harder. 
His head is in his hands now as he says, “Shit y/n I didn’t mean that. I just-” But before he can finish you stop him. 
“I can’t watch you implode like this, I can’t stand by while you do this to yourself. I was so stupid to think that you’d actually change. But it doesn’t matter. You’re still that same impulsive, stubborn little kid that you were in highschool.” He knows you don’t mean it, he can tell by the fatigue that’s evident in your voice. You’re done. You’re clearly just grasping for straws at this point. There’s no fight left in you anymore and it’s all his fault. Fuck, of course he ended up pushing away the one person who’s remained consistently by his side.
The person who makes him lunch, who reminds him to take care of himself. Who always texts him on patrol asking him how he is no matter how late it is. He can’t let you leave, he just can’t. He wants to scream, he wants to fucking cry, he wants to let himself crash and burn and he doesn’t want you picking up the pieces. He just wants to be left alone but there’s a part of him that needs you more than the air that he breathes. And that part of him just can’t allow you to go. 
He’s taken you for granted, he knows that. He knew that his rise to the top would put a strain on your relationship but he had convinced himself that he would be able to figure it out. I mean of course he would, Bakugo Katsuki can do anything. Right? Anything except for preventing himself from getting completely and utterly blindsided by his own goals apparently. 
You’re grabbing your keys to walk out and take a breather but then he stands up, abruptly grabbing your arm.
You look up at him in mild shock. “Bakugou what are you-” 
“Don’t go.” He says, and it comes out as a quiet whisper. “Please don’t go, I’m sorry. Okay? I am so fucking sorry, just please don’t leave.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so desperate.
He looks down, lets your wrist drop. And now he’s just waiting for you to say anything, anything at all. You sigh, dropping your keys back down onto the table. “Okay.” 
“Okay?” He echoes back as his head comes up and you see that his eyes are full of tears. 
You step forward taking him into your arms and he buries himself into your chest as you stroke his back. You inhale that familiar caramel scent that always seems to linger around him, a scent that reminds you of home, a scent that never fails to make you melt into his arms. He makes you feel so at home whenever you’re near him, you just want to hold onto him forever. You open your mouth and just as you’re about to say something to him he pulls away, pausing for a moment.
“I know.” He says quietly. “I know that it’s been hard for you. It’s just that no matter what I do, no matter how much I achieve it’s just that. Fuck. It’s never enough.” There are tears falling from his eyes. His long lashes are coated in the salty drops of water that won’t stop cascading down his face as he continues, “I get into this insane mindset that I could just be doing everything better, that I could be stronger, that I need to try harder. And I end up pushing you away. I end up hurting you and it’s not fair to you and I’m just really tired.” His voice cracks as he finishes and all you want right now is to take away everything that’s weighing on him and put the burden on yourself. 
Really that’s all you’ve ever wanted, just to make him hurt a little less. Because seeing him like this makes your heart ache. How could he ever think that he was anything less than good enough? Katsuki Bakugou is a star. And sometimes his light is blinding and it overwhelms you. But he’s also capable of illuminating everyone and everything around him. And he needs to know how important he is. 
You close the distance between the two of you and you swipe your thumb under his eyes hoping to clear away his tears. Your hand lingers for a moment and then you cup his face. “You are good enough. I get that it’s hard, I know how much pressure you put on yourself. But I need you to know that I see it. Even if no one else does. I see how much of yourself you’re putting into your job, I see how deeply you care.”
 He’s staring at you, practically dumbfounded. But then his eyes soften, “Thank you. Thank you for seeing me.” It comes out almost as a sigh, like he’s finally able to let go of the air that his lungs have been holding in for the past half-hour. His shoulders relax and your hands find their way into his hair as you bring him into your chest once again, mumbling into his hair. “How could I not see you? You’re too bright to ignore.”
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currentlyfckingurmom · 9 months
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18+ below the cut (YB x reader)
Yelena gets jealous.
Absolutely blindsided by jealousy.
She doesn’t understand her emotions well enough to express them with words.
So when Wanda flirts with you and you flirt back?
Oh, she gets mad.
Drags you out of the room and shoves you into the nearest closet, office, storage room—anything.
And if there isn’t a room nearby? She’ll take you right there in the hallway.
“You think you can just talk to her like that? Hm?”
“Yelena-”
“Don’t fucking interrupt me. You don’t get to talk to her or anyone else like that.”
“We didn’t mean anything by it, Lena.”
“You sure about that? You sure this mess isn’t for Wanda?”
She’ll run her hand along your soaked underwear to prove her point.
“Fuck—Yelena, I’m yours. It’s all for you.”
“You’re damn right it is. And I’m gonna make sure the whole fucking compound knows it.”
And she’ll get rough. Without even meaning to. Her fingers will leave bruises on your neck and she’ll use a knife to get you out of your clothes.
She won’t kiss you when she’s like this, but she’ll bite. Leave marks where everyone will see.
She’ll fuck you hard until you cum over and over again, making you scream her name.
And when it’s over and her anger subsides, she’ll see the damage done to your body and try to push you away.
But you won’t let her, only holding her tighter and saying how much you love her.
“I don’t deserve you” she’ll say.
“I deserve to choose who I want to love. And I love you.”
And then she’ll bring you to your room and show you how much she loves you too, even if she can’t say it yet.
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