#I have so many on my list and so many more on my to be listened to list

[arieslost]

MIAMI | ln4

summary: lando won for the first time and i have so many emotions i have to write something I’M SO FREAKING HAPPY

word count: 834

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you feel like you’re in a dream. walking on sunshine. on cloud nine. all the good, amazing things in the world.

lando has won his first ever grand prix. his first career win. right in front of your eyes.

in all honesty, it feels like you’re floating. you can’t imagine how he must be feeling as the team comes rushing out of the garage to meet him as he parks the car in front of the first place banner.

“come with me!” zak says the moment he catches up to you from the pit wall, immediately reaching for your hand so he can help you navigate your way through the crowd. “he needs to see you front and center!”

you don’t think that’s necessarily true, that he would certainly rather see the team and catch up with you afterwards, but you’ve learned not to argue with zak. you just hold on tight and allow him to guide you to the front of the barrier separating everyone from the top three finishers and their cars.

your throat quickly grows hoarse from cheering as he proudly stands atop the car, and you can’t even hear yourself over the cheers of everyone else around you and in the grandstands.

you would happily go deaf in this moment, because the sound of hundreds of thousands of people cheering for your boyfriend would be the last thing ringing in your ears. if you dreamt this moment up, it wouldn’t even sound this good.

you’re quick to take out your phone and record as lando gives himself a running start to leap across the barrier entirely and into the waiting arms of the mclaren team, who immediately swarm around him, hugging him and patting him excitedly. at some point he gets flipped around, everyone’s hands supporting him from below so the world can see the beaming smile on his face.

you don’t know when they started, but you can feel the tears on your cheeks as he’s placed back on his feet on the other side of the barrier. he’s pulled into enthusiastic hugs by a few more team members, and then he starts calling your name, eyes frantically searching for you amongst the sea of papaya.

“lan!” you yell as loudly as you can, pressing yourself right up against the barrier and leaning forward.

he spots you from over zak’s shoulder as they embrace, his smile somehow growing impossibly wider the moment your eyes meet. your happy tears begin to fall even faster after he hugs andrea and immediately makes a beeline for you.

all the words you want to say to him get stuck in your throat as you throw your arms around his neck. he’s sweaty, but so are you, courtesy of the miami heat, and neither of you care. you yelp in surprise when you feel his arms go around your waist and lift.

“what are you doing?!” you laugh, clinging onto him with all your might regardless.

“i’m not gonna have a fucking barrier between us when i do this,” is all he offers as an explanation before he’s kissing you, cupping your face with one hand and holding the other above his head, his pointer finger extended up to the sky.

you don’t see it in the moment, of course, but you’ll see plenty of pictures of it later.

you kiss him back with equal fervor. it’s definitely not the most perfect kiss; you’re crying and he can’t stop smiling so your teeth knock together a couple times, but that doesn’t dim the passion between you both as you hold each other. the crowd chanting his name fades into background noise when you break apart for air and he rests his forehead against yours.

“i love you,” he says, over and over. “i love you, i love you. i’m so glad you’re here with me.”

“lan, i’m so proud of you,” you’re in hysterics, laughing as tears continue to fall down your face even while he gently wipes them away. “you deserve this. every single second.”

“i love you so, so much. thank you for not giving up on me,” he says, his words so sincere that you could fall to the ground right here and now.

“stop making me cry more!” you exclaim, hands covering his as you reach up to wipe your eyes. “don’t you have the top step of a podium to get to?”

“can i bring you with me?”

“absolutely not,” you giggle, pulling him into another tight hug.

“alright, but i told will to get you on his shoulders so i can see you perfectly while i’m up there.”

it doesn’t click in your head why he would bother telling you that until you’re on will’s shoulders and lando is spraying his champagne down at you from the top step with surprising accuracy. and when he finds you after it’s all over and kisses you again, you decide that champagne is your new favorite taste in the whole world.

note: i don’t even care that i’m posting this late or if this sucks it doesn’t matter it needs to be posted today i am so happy for him i’m still crying oh my gosh I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I’M SO HAPPY LANDO NORRIS IS A GRAND PRIX WINNER

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[iznsfw]

Midnight

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 11 - An Yujin

IVE's An Yujin x Male Reader Smut

13,838 words

Categories | toxic relationship, degradation, violence, cunnilingus, jealous!Yujin

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Taylor's Version because we're cultured here. For my @usedpidemo <3

Sorry for being gone. It will happen again.

“It isn’t rocket science,” snaps Wonyoung, “so just tell me what’s better: this hot pink top or this baby pink one?”

You stare at the clothes hanging from the idol's fingers. You’re not colorblind by any means, but the two shirts look exactly the same to you. No differing hue, no richer brightness. If you picked up a spyglass to observe further, you’d still be the same oblivious man.

“Wonyoung, I don’t know,” you say. You really don’t. It’s the same truth you’d profess with a gun cocked to your temple. The mournful would know you were a martyr of honesty. “I’m a guy. I don’t usually choose between crop top number one and crop top number two.”

She sighs, lowering the hangers. “This isn’t a crop top. It’s a baby tee.”

“Someone just fucking kill me.”

Amuse dances on Wonyoung’s expression, something the face mask can’t veil. She likes pissing you off more than the world does. But at the end of the day, you’re the only guy she’d allow to be friends with her. It traces back to playground days—on the swing, fingers linked.

You look around. All the clothes hanging from the racks—dresses, crop tops (baby tees?), knitted Bangkok coordinates—share the same primary color. What the fuck was Wonyoung going on about? 

She slips an arm through the looped curve of your own. Her heels click as she’s leading you away from the hell of hyperfemininity, which just so happens to be her trademark. Not yours, though. Which is what makes this a problem. Which adds to the millions of other problems you have.

“I’m sorry,” she says. This is a tone of voice a friend uses when it’s time: sincere and loving. Wonyoung’s a good friend, your best friend. “I thought I was keeping your stress away from…”

The sentence fades out. Wonyoung avoids your eyes. You look down at your shoes. Hate it or love it, the girl you care about more than anyone else is fueling your emotions. 

She’s not Wonyoung, as many people like to believe. You’re surprised, too. When you were twelve, Wonyoung was the most beautiful girl in the world to you—just not the one you’d end up with. This girl who has your heart’s taken her Aphrodite place and needs a mask to hide her identity, too. 

The love of your life, An Yujin. Twenty years old, K-pop idol for longer than you’re able to fathom, and just about everything. It would take hours to list everything Yujin has going on. And although you know each one, it doesn’t stop you from longing.

You think about her all the time and sometimes, you pray that you don’t so the pain won’t splinter your heart.

“Wonyoung.” You’re tired.

“I’m sorry.”

The world is keen on keeping you in shreds. You see a mother and father shopping with their kid. The little boy has the same dimpled smile as your girlfriend. If only Yujin wanted to actually love you. There’s another young couple taking pictures in front of the wide mirror. Their arms are around each other, photo-ready for Instagram. Meanwhile, Yujin only posts about her ambassadorships. 

Wonyoung doesn’t look at the price tags when she places the tops on the cashier counter. The cashier thankfully doesn’t recognize her. If he did, he didn’t show it at all. She slaps a black card into his hand and soon, you’re exiting the outlet. Thank god for it. You were sure you were slowly dying.

But it isn’t the shopping or the commute or the cash that’s killing you. It’s her absence. Are you just a fan again? Feeding on a relationship that’s almost as nonexistent as it used to be?

“Are you deaf?” 

Raise your head. You’re still in the mall. The crowd bustles between you and Wonyoung, who’s looking at you weirdly.

“What?” you ask.

“I asked if you wanted ice cream.”

Oh. You clear your eyes with a blink, then realize you’re in front of an ice cream truck. Pink and white and pretty, a menu of everything delicious, and a childlike joy in the customers’s faces.

Sure is what you say. If that’ll keep my mind off her is what you don’t.

Wonyoung asks for the largest ice cream. For a girl whose physique is slim and toned, she loves to eat. You picked the habit up from her, too, but you can’t stand making her pay for your own food. A mini cup it is.

You don’t realize your silence. It’s natural—like taking another breath, like taking another look at your phone to see if she’s messaged you. 

The stretch of quietness leaves you time to ponder. The sweetness fills your mouth and you can only think that there are other people sweeter—someone with a smile worth gold and a playfulness you never get tired of. It’s not worth the trouble; you doubt that she thinks of you as often as she crosses your mind. She probably doesn’t at all.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it,” Wonyoung adds, thumb stroking the red long spoon. “So we can just eat here and call it a day. Quick and simple.”

Yeah right.

You release a sarcastic huff of breath. The soft hills of the ice cream are delicious but none go in your mouth. “It’s fine,” you mutter. “It’s not like I have anyone to go home to.”

Every day consists of mourning and longing for a girl who isn’t even dead. She’s everywhere in Korea—TV screens, advertisements, large tarpaulins, shop standees—but the only place she can’t be is by your side. 

She’s always with you if you count your phone wallpaper being a stolen picture of her. But besides that, it’s like she’s gone. Cremated in an urn and thrown into the ocean. She’s left you behind for good.

Wonyoung puts down her cup. Sincerity’s evident on her face. “You have to understand… it’s really not all on her.”

Sure, it isn’t. But it’s hard not to put the blame on someone when the other side of the bed is empty. When your phone’s full of messaged apologies and I-love-yous that don’t mean anything. It’s fucking draining. 

You laugh. Nothing’s funny. “Are you saying it’s my fault?” you ask.

“Of course not.”

“So what the hell do you suggest I do?” 

Your voice comes out louder than you expect. Eyes dig holes into your being. Your conversation is a song everyone wants to listen to. They‘ll pick it apart, formulate theories, and wonder who’s the featured artist. 

Wonyoung’s face is full of sadness. You hate that she worries about you the way she would a child. You don’t need parental comfort and a “get well soon” balloon; you need Yujin. And that alone guarantees a wave of pity.

“Well?” you prompt her. She’s got a lot to say, and now she’s refusing to speak about Yujin.

She doesn’t continue.

Lower your tone, for both your sakes. You don’t want a fight to break out here. And she doesn’t need attention when she’s already got enough as an idol. 

Your false smile cracks and you don’t think you can hide the depth of your sadness. In this busy mall, you want to make a scene. Not just a scene, but one that involves a little illegality, which you no doubt would have done if you were raised differently.

You want to tear at the nearest man’s throat. Have him choke, slowly die, and leave his blood as a warning to everyone. His veins would be all over the floor.

You want to break the porcelain plate of banana split over a kid’s head, just to see his cracked skull. Nobody can be happy if you aren’t. There isn’t a treat that would fill the hole in your heart like Yujin does.

You want to hurt anybody, everybody, to make up for your own that’s starting to corrupt your mind.

“We can have this conversation again and again,” you manage, choking up tears, “and she still won’t come home to me.”

Wonyoung looks down at her lap. There’s two perspectives here: yours and Yujin’s. She knows her bandmate’s side better as someone who’s going through the same. She can’t play both roles, choose who’s the victim and villain. 

She’s utterly defeated. But she tries to make you get it. “It won’t be like this forever,” Wonyoung says quietly.

Forever is months of a long distance relationship. You’re in the same country but with the way she never visits and neither do you, you might as well be on the other side of the globe. It’s always texts that go unreplied, occasional pictures reacted to with a heart, that kind of stuff. Always no Yujin, always you looking for her.

You’re a puppy searching for his owner. You’re lost, lost, lost—all while Yujin’s found fame and success. But you don’t need that. You need her.

It looks like fame is more attainable. 

You lift your shoulders. Blink back your tears. “Sure looks like it.”

Wonyoung takes your hand. Her gaze is soft. “She’ll perform with me at a festival sometime next week. I’ll take care of her, pull some strings, let you guys have some time together. Right now, she just needs space.”

Space. Okay. You can do that.

A flash of lightning cracks too close. No storm on the forecast though. Embedded in the illumination, you think you saw Yujin’s face. You see her face everywhere actually—even when she’s not there.

Turn to the empty third chair beside you. If you opened your eyes wider and wished harder, would she come? Or would she be another figment of your imagination?

-

Things weren’t always like this. Once upon a time, Yujin was a love you could go back to. You met everyday, ate together everyday, talked everyday. You’re glad you were there for her after IZ*ONE’s disbandment, a great loss for K-pop. 

She sat beside you in the practice room. Gorgeous. That’s what she was. Yujin was the first love of your life, and the only one. She was pretty back then, too. She had that kind of friendly beauty—it started platonically, but oh, if you were to fall, it wasn’t a surprise. 

Somebody take me back.

Her hair was long and brown, your knuckles sliding down on it. She was dressed in baggy clothes that made her look small despite her height. You couldn’t fall more in love.

“I’m sorry about the… you know,” you said, before stopping to place an arm around her shoulder and kissing her. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but how are you?”

“Things can be better,” Yujin said with a shrug. “We’d be having our world tour, if things went differently.”

“Damn, Covid was a bitch, huh?”

Then, despite it all, Yujin laughed—that beautiful, loud laugh which made her eyes crease and the cute dimple show. You poked it, and she leaned into you once more, just how you liked it.

She nodded. The remaining parts of her giggles fought their way out of her. “Yeah.” Her eyes locked on the door of the room, as if expecting eleven girls to come back in. She wasn’t laughing anymore. “Yeah.”

Her voice faded out. Dreams were there. A bigger discography was on the way, a last in-person concert was supposed to happen. Each was crushed by circumstance. Yujin was not. She withstood every battle and came back holding a bigger sword each time.

It’s not to say it was easy.

“I can’t believe it ended that quickly.” Her sweet and remorseful smile made your heart crack. “One minute I was fifteen meeting all these cool girls, then I’m all grown up and they’re gone.”

She had to move past it. Experience battered her into maturity but she still yearned for younger days. You knew that feeling well. Barely young but barely old. You didn’t know it at that time, but it was the perfect balance. Youth was right there while adulthood waited patiently. Things went by fast and yet it didn't matter. You had each other.

“You know who won’t be gone?” 

“Who?” Yujin propped her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes glimmered with repressed tears.  

You thumbed away one that let go from the side of her mouth. “Me.”

-

You keep your promises as hard as you can, even if it hurts you.

-

You | Hey baby. Good luck on the music show!

Still nothing. You sent it today, eagerly waiting for her appearance on TV. But Yujin left no sign that she got your text. 

So, nothing unusual.

You sit down and try to assure yourself. That’s fine. Yujin’s fine. She just needs space. She needs to focus on her job where people focus on her and she can’t focus on you. Okay. It’ll be alright. It hurts, but if it’s how things should go, do you have any other choice?

The song comes on. The show is dark red with the background playing a looped animation. It’s a heart, stabbed with an arrow over and over. How familiar. The girls are beautiful, as always. Preppy but kitsch outfits were chosen for them to perform in. The varsity jackets cinematically slip off their arms and the skirts sway like they were paid to look that good. 

Smile, because this is what Yujin loves doing the most: dancing and singing for a crowd. She gave everything up for this. She deserves all this love, and she knows it. Her confidence is the sexiest thing about her.

“Baddie, b-b-baddie baddie—” 

That’s your cue. You’re on the edge of your seat. You’ll cheer for her, even from afar.

However, it’s… not her.

The voice and backtrack are different. Another girl’s taken her place. She’s tall and pretty, too. She performs the line with overflowing charisma, but she’s not Yujin. She could never be Yujin. 

You | uh

Wonyoung

Where’s Yujin???

You take no interest in the stage playing out before you. Your only concern is where their best member is. 

The response takes painful hours. It’s a live stage, so of course you have to wait till it’s over. But everything feels so wrong—the catchy beat doesn’t sound quite as good when Yujin’s rich voice isn’t playing over it. 

Wonyoung | i thought she was with you? what are youu talking about?

Yujin definitely isn’t with you. But she needs space. Besides, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. She might have just needed to visit family that would be announced by the company later. Nothing worth the panic.

But as you look at the screen, you can’t help but feel a little pain in your heart. Like grief that happens a few days in advance.

-

Wikihow doesn’t offer a proper guide in dealing with a girlfriend like Yujin. You’ve resorted to articles, to YouTube videos, to question forums. None of them help you out.

They say, in order to make the long-distance relationship better, you should communicate.

Yujin doesn’t reply to your messages. They’re always left in the conversation without a read receipt, or even a simple reaction.

They say to gift her flowers and sweet things, all through a trusted courier.

The staff always throw them out. They probably think you’re a crazy fan.

They say to let it take time. 

She never shows up. Letting it take time means that it’ll happen. But you only meet her twice a month, if you’re lucky. This time—you haven’t seen her in person at all.

But, like a dog waiting for its owner to unleash it, you wait.

-

And wait.

(What’s lost of Yujin remains as a memory: you and her in a café at midnight, looking sullenly at your cups of coffee. Who gets coffee at 12 a.m.? 

Perhaps a couple nearing the parts of their journey where they crash and go up in flames. The police would be too late.

“Okay,” said Yujin. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the detailed metal chair. “Not to be, like, you know, a nosey bitch or anything. But you’re awfully dismissive.”

Charming. “And you aren’t?” you fired back.

The thing about you and Yujin is that you could beat around the bush for days. She would ignore you, give blunt answers, and keep to herself. You would go around for a drive, sleep in a separate room. It’s all fair and square. She doesn’t bother with you, why should you?

In the end, however, you have to come to a conclusion. It isn’t pretty. 

“Babe, if this is about those MC partners I have,” she told you, sounding every bit the nonchalant partner you made obvious she was, “be a little mature. It’s a job. It pays.”

That was all that mattered to her. She grew up to be the breadwinner of her family and now the feel of paper in her palms was all she looked for. 

You looked past her. The sidewalks and pedestrian lanes were full of people, from all walks of life. There were many women who were kinder than Yujin in the masses. So why did you stay?

“You spend more time with those men than me.”

“Then step up your fucking game.” Yujin regarded her iced latté with a cold gaze. “I don’t remember the last time you got me flowers.”

“I told you, your shit security guard has—” 

You paused. Something just hit you. It was a slap that messed up all the curves and chemistries in your brain. 

“They bring you flowers?”

That’s your thing with her. Yours. You bet that she’s more confident posting the bouquets some stupid florist made for her than the ones you handpicked. Always left in the dust, always turned away.

Yujin rolled her eyes then took a sip of her drink. “There he goes.”

She didn’t see it in the same light you did. You got the thing about keeping the relationship a secret. You knew that. Yet what was better here, a rumor with a fellow idol or someone unknown? 

She gave no fucks about it at all. There she drank the overpriced coffee and looked at you casually. Yujin was ashamed of you, and she hid it so badly it was laughable.

“Thanks for being such an empath,” you said.

“Anytime.”

“Do I seriously mean that little to you?”

“I never said that. You’re the one getting your panties twisted over some sunflowers.”

“Your favorite flowers. Maybe if you showed a little more gratitude to the ones I get you than the crap they paid a florist to—”

Yujin sighed loudly. “For fuck’s sake.” 

She slammed her cup down on the table. The plastic cover was no soldier to the pressure and let the brown liquid explode all over the surface. The open design of the white table let the coffee spill on your pants.

You were horrified. Everyone was looking at you. You drew a crowd every time you were out with Yujin and for no good reason. 

“I’m tired of every conversation, every conversation we have turning into another fight.” Her chair creaked as she shoved it up to the ruined table. You flinched again. The aggressiveness wasn’t the only thing that scared you—she had this snow-cold tone that made you melt in all the wrong ways. “So if you want to say something that’s actually not trash about my job, say it now.”

You held her glare for a while. It was a new record. It was deadly, the expressionless plaque of her face. Her teeth were clenched, her whole being was tense, and all the strength she had was spoken through her eyes. You lost at keeping it.

The lurk of silence felt longer than the hours the moon was in the sky. Yujin waited. Perhaps she wanted you to speak. She smiled bitterly. Whatever response she expected, it didn’t come.

“Thought so.” She licked coffee off her thumb and let her hair be the last thing you saw of her.)

-

And wait.

(Yujin smiled when you saw her again. She threw her arms around your neck, kissed you, too. 

You never forgot what happened. You didn’t want to bring it up—she was so happy that it infected you, too. Still, flashbacks of that moment churned in your head as she picked away at her favorite food and joked around.

“I’m a terrible cook,” she said. She forked a burnt broccoli in the air and shook her head in amusement. “I can’t believe you still eat it.”

“Someone has to.”

Her smile was beautiful. Then, broccoli to your lips, she said “I’m happy you’re here,” and it was better again.)

-

And wait.

(Who’s surprised? It all went down once more.

You never told anyone that sometimes, you were tired of it.)

-

And wait.

(What now?)

-

“That’s the nineteenth time you checked your phone.” Sunghoon leans forward on the floor, thumbs mashing into the controller. He shoots you a look. “Yep, I counted.”

You’re that in love with Yujin. No surprise at all. That doesn’t stop the red in your ears though.

She still hasn’t texted you back. No calls were made, which goes the same for TV appearances. No tall girl is spotted amongst a group of five. She isn’t there to brighten up the set with her clever jokes or charisma. 

You text her continuously. Sometimes you try not to sound so desperate, so you space the messages between hours. That doesn’t work, because Yujin is still nowhere.

“Excuse me for being concerned for my girlfriend,” you say. In the darkness of your apartment, she’s the only one who can light it up. 

Sunghoon shuts the game down. He’s losing the game while you’re losing your mind. You two have your own battles.

It really shouldn’t be this painful having her gone. You’re to blame; you bought into it knowing you weren’t built for this kind of relationship—the one where you scrawl and yell while she couldn’t give a fuck if she were forced to. Her love for you is highly debatable, and you’re still here, waiting for that to change.

How did you and Yujin become a couple if you only hurt each other?

“She’s been MIA for like a week. Not counting the months I haven’t met up with her.” Your gaze keeps dashing to your phone. You’ll stand by forever if you had to, but that doesn’t make it easier. “I’m allowed to be worried, right?”

Sunghoon nods. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stay.”

“What?” 

He releases a thinly patient breath. You remain oblivious to whatever he’s referencing. 

“Dude,” he stresses, a hand in his hair, “I don’t have shit for brains. I know that you and Yujin fight like animals.” 

You wince. The elders were right. The truth hurts.

You and your girlfriend argue so much you’d think you’ve been married for sixty years. She’s a fierce woman who won’t let down an opinion if she believes in it that much. On the other hand, you won’t stop at anything to have her hold faith on your side. The walls are thin and let everyone in the dorm hear your quarrel, including poor Hyunseo. And now, your friend.

You keep your eyes on the desk below your television so you won’t have to look at Sunghoon. And even there you search for her. She could be sitting in your kitchen or studying on the staircase. Anywhere, as long as you’ve got her.

He rests himself on the sofa. There’s a very small grin on his face. “But you guys also…” 

You don’t reply. Wish you could put your palms on your ears without being obvious. You’re not sure you want to hear it.

“You and Yujin.” He turns to you. “You love like animals, too.” 

It’s a lighter truth, so why are you sad? 

“It’s kind of—” Sunghoon cuts himself off with a laugh. “You’re lovebirds. If she’s gone, you get so lonely. You’re gonna die if you don’t see her. And I know she’d do the same.”

You never would have guessed. Yujin doesn’t care about you. She doesn’t love you either. Her excuses for not visiting are perfectly designed to look like they benefit you—”I don’t want to disturb you”; “You need more sleep.” 

She’s gotten tired of you.

You lift your head from your hands. “What should I do now?” you ask.

This isn’t a venomous reply. You actually have no idea how to move forward. Yujin’s so far out of reach that you’re beside yourself, scared and helpless. You can’t disturb her schedules and start rumors. You can’t text her too much. There aren’t choices left for you to navigate. And if there are, you aren’t allowed to pick.

You want to curl yourself into a ball and cry yout heart out.

“Hello?” Wonyoung’s recognizable voice sounds out from the entrance, interrupting your trainwreck of thoughts.

You sprint from the sofa. It’s Yujin’s closest friend, the only one who might know where she’s been. You don’t welcome Wonyoung in. You don’t say “hi” or “what’s up?”. The first thing you tell her, upon meeting her at the entrance, is the only thing that’s important to you.

“Where’s Yujin?”

“Has Yujin visi—” Wonyoung pauses, realizing something. The bump in her throat resurfaces again. “She isn’t here?” 

“No. She’s at the dorm, right?” 

“Of course not. Yujin hasn’t stayed over since our last stage. Her parents said she wasn’t at their place.”

That’s more than eight days ago.

Seeing your friend isn’t so pleasant when you know that the one you love most is gone. It’s similar for Wonyoung. The horrors roll scene after scene in your minds, each one portraying Yujin in the cruelest of situations. Not everybody loves her purely—some of them want to hurt and tear and dehumanize her, and you can’t stop it. 

The sobs build up in your throat. “No.” 

“Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong,” says Wonyoung. It’s a singsong without the glee. She laughs nervously as she slips her hands in her pockets and looks behind you, as if it’s all just a cruel joke and Yujin’s safe and sound.

You take it all in. This can’t be real, but it is. The worst thing that could ever happen has finally unfolded. 

Sunghoon gets up, but you place a hand in front of him. He can’t save his friend from this. You feel yourself melting into the person everyone said you were: a mean, jealous god who reigned over Yujin and held her back.

Take a deep breath. “Where is she?”

"I don't know!” she cries out. The puzzle is pieced together. Yujin has disappeared, and both of you thought she was still someplace where it mattered. “She’s not answering my calls. The girls are looking for her. Her family’s looking for her.”

The fear, buried beneath the arteries of your heart, resurrects in the most cruel way. Its bony hand chokes you in its tight grip. If things went wrong tonight, Yujin would remember the merciless words you let go of the last time you saw her. They might be all she’d ever remember.

“Wonyoung.” You try to breathe. You can’t. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew!”

You’ve never seen Wonyoung this distressed. Sunghoon’s passed your barrier to comfort her, but it’s not going to happen. She’s pacing around the room and cursing every vulgarity she knows. And the thing about Jang Wonyoung is that she never, ever swears.

The anger stacks up. You did not just let this happen. All those signs—her being missing from performances, the lack of updates—you ignored all of them. 

“You promised to take care of her!” you shout. There’s no room for shame here. You can yell as loud as you want. You’ve been keeping it in for so long. ”That’s what you said to me, now you’re telling me you lost her?”

Sunghoon’s words go unnoticed. You’ve got your own conversations inside your head. The voices go back and forth, saying you’re a terrible boyfriend, saying you’re the worst match for Yujin. This is why she doesn’t love you, they say. This is why she’d rather go missing than see you.

“I’m not the bad guy here!” Wonyoung almost rips her hair out when she faces you. “I’m trying to help you! Don’t you fucking dare pin this on me!”

You and Wonyoung glare at each other. Fierce stares rip at the friendship you nurtured over a girl you both love. Love causes hate and hate causes a flurry of hands and fists. Will you and Wonyoung end up like that, too?

“Wonyoung,” Sunghoon says. His voice is surprisingly steady. “Calm down. Check your phone, Yujin might have texted us.”

Too angry to protest, similar to how she was too angry to hear a notification sound, she turns her spiteful eyes from you and on her device. 

Then, it happens.

Liz | https://gossiphangug/forum/did-i-just-see-ive-yujin

Is that …?

-

오마이갓닛 아이브안유진인가요????????

I saw Ahn yujin at the seoul city highway. i was in my car on a road trip so sorry for the blurry pic but shes so pretty in real life!!!! her face is so small ㅠㅠ i dont think she's shooting something because she's alone. i dont want to invade D: an yujin im your longtime fan!

— What’s she doing all alone???? 

— Yujinieee why do you look sad

— im worried for her, shes famous and a woman. she cant be by herself at night 😭

— OVERRATED……………….

— If you didn’t want to iNvAdE why did you go on a public forum and share her location? Dumb bitch.

-

You get in your car. While you collected your keys from the door, you sent your girlfriend a total of thirty texts. Yujin hasn’t read a single one. You don’t care about space anymore—that’s the last thing she needs. 

The night covers the whole of Korea with an eeriness about it. Shiver, closing your jacket around yourself. The cicadas chirp and footsteps click around when no one’s there. You can’t imagine how scared Yujin must be if these are what she’s going through outside of Seoul, the most dangerous parts.

Place your phone on its holder. It’s always switched on so you can see her picture. She might be gone physically, but she’s always there on your screen—eating lunch, looking at you with wide eyes when she realizes you’re taking pictures of her. She’s in shows. Articles. 

She’s not dead, but she’s been gone for so long you would’ve thought she was.

If you aren’t quick enough, she will be.

Before you drive, you text her again. This time around, she’ll see it. 

You | Yujinnnn how are you?? please reply to me :)i’m coming over right now <3 I’m just here!

You always are, aren’t you? It’s her who’s not.

But you get it. It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to see you after the last time you met. 

Yujin was on her phone, (like always), not speaking a word. You brought up to her that you would appreciate it if you two could go on that dream trip you planned. 

It was the one you formulated when she wasn’t in IVE yet, not even IZ*ONE. You were young and passionate—you had a lot of dreams for yourselves. Being financially stable now compared to those days in Yujin’s practice room, sneaking a little time together, you thought you should go now.

Without looking up, Yujin sighed. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m shooting with the members in Jeju. Maybe next time?”

It was always next time. And it never, ever, happened.

“Okay, when are you planning to live up to your promise?” you told her lightly.

Yujin finally unglued her eyes from the screen. You froze. You didn’t mean to sound so antagonizing. 

Yujin set her hands on her hips, standing to meet your level. She’s scary when she’s mad. The cute dimple’s gone and the brightness from her eyes dissolves. Arguments and silent treatments couldn’t train you from the way the nonchalance on her face disappeared. Or remained. 

An Yujin scares you, and it’s not a laughing matter.

“Why can’t you just wait?” she asked. Her voice was hard as stone. “It’s not that hard. You know I can’t get out of it when I signed a contract.”

Shake your head. You try to focus on the road and its twists and turns, but all you can think about is her. When the possibility that things would go wrong actually happens tonight, you’ll never forgive yourself.

You hear her yells and excuses in your mind. Always the excuses with Yujin. Ladies and gentlemen, what’s new?

Remember how you lost all kindness in that moment and started to spew all these hateful words you didn’t know the impact of. Your hands tighten on the wheel.

“That contract didn’t say you’re legally required to forget about me.”

“I would never do that!” said Yujin angrily, taking a step closer to you. Despite the comfortable clothes, she looked like she wanted to punch you. Her fists were balled and her jaw was taut. She could do it right now and not regret it. “I’m busy, I can’t just show up and say I’m bailing because of a stupid trip.”

Your mouth had fallen to the floor. How could she say that so easily? It was the first promise you made to each other. Something like that ought to be taken more seriously. 

“You think it’s—” No, you couldn’t believe it. You wouldn’t believe it.

But Yujin nodded with all the conviction there was in the world. Your heart was broken, glass shattered from the hit she blew. “As stupid as you think my career is.”

Unbelievable. The apartment you two chipped in together suddenly looked like a blur. In your timeline, the minimal stars in the sky were blobs of unfocused light. Cars looked like clear road. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair. How could she believe something so false?

“Why the fuck are you putting words in my mouth?” you snapped.

She wore this evil smile that challenged you to not back out for once. Yujin pushed you to your limits and loved it. “And why are you such a little bitch about it?”

And you swore you didn’t mean it when you took the quest, when you said—

“Why are you my girlfriend if you’re this selfish and unloveable?”

Her arrogance was gone in an instant. Yujin’s retort never came. She bit her lip tightly,  fearing her response would be in the form of a sob. It was in these moments that you forgot she cried so easily. You shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t intend to.

The words were easy to say, but hard to take back. The expression on her face changed. It went from a fiery summer to a hailstorm that didn’t want to pour down but the clouds overflowed. There was no other way out. In the close distance, you could hear her breath shudder.

Yujin crept up until you were forehead to forehead, nose to nose. Intimacy was out of the question because of her busyness. You hated that she was the closest she’s ever been now—when the tears stormed down her eyes, when her face radiated hot anger.

Her finger jabbed into your chest. She hoped its nail would transform into a knife. 

“Fuck you.” 

You didn’t intend to say what you said, but she did.

She shoved past you and was gone. Her footsteps were loud, crashing down on the floor with the impression that it’s you she’s running over. She wanted to bury you in the ground so you could never hurt her again. So she could never hurt you again.

The door slammed, and since then, you haven’t seen her.

The tear slides down your eye. You can’t hold it back anymore. Before you turn at the red light, you leave her a message:

You | And I love you.

My baby <3 

This is what you meant.

Driving in the night used to be your way of clearing your head. There’s less traffic, less civilians, less everything. The moon signaled home for everyone while you wanted to be anywhere else. It isn’t such a pastime now. Knowing that Yujin is out there, probably feeling very small and very alone—it honestly makes you want to kill yourself.

Not the first time she made you think of it.

The grass tumbles with sprinkler wetness. Trees whip past the vision of your sideview mirror. The streetlights cast a shadow over no one. She isn’t here. 

You won’t accept it. Reject all the paths that she’s been kidnapped and tortured and killed or whatever. Those aren’t true. Yujin’s doing well. She just needs a breather so she went out here.

Going on trying is exhausting. You’ve looked everywhere. You’re already at the darker parts of the highway. The road breaks into the soil and tapers off to the edge of an unprotected cliff. 

There’s no tall girl. There’s no love of your life. Considering that she isn’t here, she‘s most likely dead. She was put in a sack and thrown off this mountain. And nobody heard her screams.

You lost her. Forever.

Then a shadow of frazzled black hair passes by your window. The exhaustion’s creeping into you, so it might be a hallucination. But then you see the fabric hanging below the woman’s hair.

It’s your jacket.

You turn the engine off. Its death allows you to jump out of your car, takes one for the team so your girlfriend doesn’t have to. All the clues are there and you remain unsure if it’s really Yujin.

Until you see the strained, regretful smile that accents a dimple on her cheek.

Until you see the length of her legs as she sits on the edge.

Until you see her face.

“Yujin!” you call out. A murder of crows flies out from your feet as you sprint to her. 

She whips her head to you. Tears still speck her face but she’s wearing your jacket and your boxers. Not a wound blemishes her skin.

The relief courses through your blood like lifesaving medicine. Yujin’s safe! She’s okay. Her sneakers crash on the plateau. She’s missed you, too. The fabric of the jacket lifts to her shoulder as she raises her arm—

“You shameless motherfucker!” 

Yujin brings her hand down and slaps you right in the face. Its brutality brings tears to your eyes yet there are more on hers. Red blooms from where she smacked you. Her round little face is filled with the unholiest anger, the kind the devils would love her for. But she doesn’t seek salvation—because one after the other, she hits and pushes you backward.

The pain doesn’t stop. She doesn’t stop. The violence of it all—her hands reddening your skin, the bruises her knuckles leave on your chest, her booming voice—leaves you speechless. Yujin’s gotten angry, but never this angry.

“Fuck—you—fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” She says it like a promise, living up to it with accompanying punches to your sore body. She’ll loathe you till the day you die. It’s a pledge she makes to all her red flags. “Get out of my life!”

Yujin shoves you into your car hood and beats your stomach with a plummet of fists. Your legs crumple. The resistance is there. Your shoes try to remain glued to the ground and withstand her assault, but you’re too weak. You’re so dense around Yujin and it doesn’t stop at her little seldom glances, her little touches.

It goes right up to every abuse—the one at your belly, chest, and arms.

The air’s being knocked out of you. Each bout of oxygen you try to take is out of reach. You’re losing what’s left inside thanks to Yujin’s cruel punches. 

Her screams echo through the forest below and the sky above. Not even the crows can stand her beating. They fly away instantly, afraid they’d be next. Fear is wholly understandable. Yujin’s eyes are alight with bloodthirst.

“Stop! Yujin, it hurts!” you scream. You don’t want to push her. But if she keeps hitting you like this, you’re leaving the place seriously injured. Thus, you’re forced to knee her in the stomach. 

And you still don’t want her to leave your touch.

Yujin stumbles backwards. She looks at you, not stunned or shocked, but furious. Angry is one thing. It makes people passive-aggressive, makes them curse, makes them snarky. Furious is what gets her to stand up and approach you. Furious is what makes her throat sore from yelling and her abuse go on despite the skinned burn. 

She’s psychotic—sweat beads at her face and her hair’s messy and knotted. What scares you is how she’s growling. The raspy noises pair with the murderous look in her eyes. She’s ready to beat you up again, and you can’t run to save yourself.

Yujin hurls into you with a shout, using her height and weight to damage you. It’s effective. You lose balance and knock into your vehicle again. The metal cuts through your skin. You don’t want to retaliate. You won’t stoop that low. However, it’s starting to actually hurt.

She’s not a challenge to carry, so why does she feel so heavy right now? Her cries rock your ears like how she’s ruining your strength. She’s beating you down with the goal of leaving you a bloody mess. Yujin won’t stop at anything to reach that.

“Yujin!” 

The more purple bruises she leaves on your body, the more you’re confused. You put your arms up. That’s enough. Yujin yells frustratedly and tries to push through them. So, place your hands on her shoulders tightly. She’s a restrained animal, teeth bared and wildness still running through her blood. Her whimpers speak of frustration and her will to go on hurting.

“Baby,” you say, squeezing her, “what the hell is going on?”

"Why do you care?” Yujin's sobbing. The tears are plump and fast as she’s pushing you off her like you didn't even matter. Your touch doesn’t console her anymore. It just makes her rabid. "Go rail that bitch, you’re all hers, I don't give a shit."

You don’t know what she’s talking about. All you want to do is wipe the sadness from her face and bandage her wounds. What’s stopping that is Yujin herself.

The night is silent except for her heavy pants. Even the crickets are quiet. They seem to be watching and waiting for your next move. 

Try again: "Yujin—" 

"Just go!" Yujin screams. Deafening is not good enough of an adjective to describe her voice. It wrecks your eardrums and you think the trees whistle back because of it. The whole world is static for a minute.

She pins you into the hood of your car again, but then she's suddenly pressed to your form tightly. Her supple body's joined your touch, as if you were always one.

For long seconds, Yujin glares down at you. Her steely eyes force your breaths to shorten. She leaves you breathless in so many ways—in bed, in performances, in the hour where she’s holding you down after cruelty. Fuck. 

You stare right back at her. Yujin’s teardrops land on your face, like a perfect kiss. It won’t save you. Instead, it’ll kill you. Her fingers gather the fabric of your collar around your throat before she shoves you away.

“Forget this ever happened.” She backs off for the first time. She’s tired, too. Furiously dabbing at her swollen eyes, Yujin walks away until she’s at a measured distance where she can actually stand to be with you. “It’s over. It always was.”

She’s so… small. Yujin’s at a height equal to yours, however, there’s her legs being too thin for your boxers. Blood streams from a tiny open wound. Your jacket pools around her arms. Her teary face needs the comfort she rejects. 

You can’t bring yourself to accept that this is how she breaks things off with you. She needs you. You need her, the way gasoline needs a lit match to roar into flames, the way a knife needs ill intent to murder.

“Please. At least tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been gone for months, Yujin. Months.”

“You know what you did,” she snarls, holding her bruised knuckles to her chapped lips. “Parading around with Wonyoung in public, what were you trying to do? Just because that whore bounces on any dick doesn’t mean you have to give in.``

The bricks fall into place. They build a bigger picture where you could see everything. Yujin’s jealous. She thinks you’re cheating on her because you went out with your best friend. 

Her streak of envy is terrifying. It’s never gotten to this level though, where your cheek still burns. The same fire in her face—curled brows, eyes full of contempt—grows higher. You can’t put it out with water or snow. It’ll eternally be there inside her, waiting to be provoked.

“Is that what this is about?” you laugh. Have to crack a smile to keep from crying. 

Yujin tilts her head with a cross of her arms. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I get it. If I’m jealous because you’re with that rookie idol, it’s bullshit. But when you are, I have to get fucking assaulted.”

You’re still recovering. Your body’s sore and your legs feel like jelly. The lengths Yujin would go to make a point are terrifying.

She sucks in her teeth. “Probably because he isn’t my childhood best friend I had my fucking first kiss with.”

“Wonyoung and I were five, Yujin. She’s a friend. I was helping and spending time with a friend.”

“A friend you went on a cute little ice cream date with?” she asks. “The one you drove her to even when your car doesn’t have goddamned headlights?”

Yujin hammers a foot into said headlights. The lights resurrect and die all over again, flickering in hopes that she’d give them a chance.

How does she know about that outing? Someone must have recognized Wonyoung that day. You need to file a lawsuit against whoever took a picture. They caused Yujin’s spiral into insanity. That’s reason enough for the judge to hammer down justice.

Thumbs pressing behind her ears, she screams as loud as she can. She wants to cause an earthquake that’ll eliminate everybody, including herself. Let the mountains fall on her. At least the last thing that hurt her won’t be you. 

“Is she your girlfriend now? Is that what you went to her for: help? Forget it.” She rubs her scarlet eyes. They’ve seen things you can’t understand well—a love she thought was hers only. “I’m not stupid, and Wonyoung isn't better than me. You could’ve texted, called, anything.”

“Yujin,” you reply quietly. “If I did, would you have come?”

You could hear the labor of her breaths, the whip of a crow’s wings. Yujin’s speechless. She’s not as sinless as she thinks she is. You neglected her and she did, too. 

And, as expected, you let her go without an apology.

“P-plus, I bet my life they’re gonna say the same thing: Wonyoung and I are just friends. That’s it.”

“You didn’t call her unloveable or selfish? Wow, you really are a match made in heaven.”

Flustered: “That’s not how—”

It’s your turn to be quiet. You didn’t realize the impact of your words. They hit her harder than her punches did to you. Blood won’t seep yet there’s an ache inside her heart you’ve planted forever.

You see the shape of Yujin’s mouth quiver. No, you can still fix this. This doesn’t have to be the end.

Is it still salvageable when she’s already breaking down? Her whines ricochet and she’s crying into the sleeve of the jacket, your jacket. She’s utterly hopeless. She needs someone. You aren’t an option anymore.

She doesn’t look up from the road. One finger pointed to the car, Yujin says one thing:

“Go.”

It’s all she tells you. She’s ready for it to be over. You’re too intense. She’s gone, you cry. You’re gone, she floods the world with her tears and leaves no survivors. You fight her, she replies with a hit in the face. When she fights you, you fight as a soldier would. Your schedules collide and result in no sweet dates, no time together. You just weren’t meant for each other.

You feel like crying, too. Refuse to believe that the girl you were with ever since the two of you were teenagers—the girl you comforted before she took the risk to become who she wanted, the girl in the trainee headcount—isn’t for you. It’s so wrong. 

Shake your head. “Never,” you murmur.

"I swear to god, leave me alone. You know what? Leave Wonyoung alone, too. She doesn't want a bastard who sticks like glue to other girls."

“I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

She’s so perfect. Yujin’s fingers bleed from hitting you and her face is puffy with dried tears, yet she looks beautiful to you. How could you not? She’s got that sweet puppy love smile, that soft heart that’s so easy to love but so easy to break. You won’t fall for anything else.

Yujin scoffs. “How fucking romantic.” 

Romance. What a dead thing. Its corpse is still lying around and waiting for tears to turn to shy smiles it used to provoke. There’s only Yujin’s bleeding fists, dry pout, and your presence. A presence she doesn’t want.

She turns her back to you and faces the round moon in the sky. Its bright light on her, Yujin laughs into it tauntingly. She wordlessly relays her complaints to it and all of them are about you. How dare it watch idly and not let the sun take its place? 

“You’re a liar,” she spits. “What about me is worth loving?”

Maybe you weren’t enough. You loved and loved and loved her and she still doesn’t want to see the truth. You should’ve made a way to surprise her after shows. You should’ve hugged her and told her you want her rather than expecting her to know it.

“You’re an angel.” You’re near tears. You’ll fight tooth and nail for her to believe you. “You’re such a hard worker and you get me through stuff when I don’t think I can anymore. I’m sorry if I never told you that.”

Yujin sniffles while you pause. There’s more things you need to apologize for. All the times you spoke before you thought, all the times you said something you didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.

“And… and…” Swallow your pride. “I’m sorry if I told you anything else.”

Her shoulders shake. You don’t know how much that means to her. Her doubts are numberless and you just alleviated them, even for a little while. You don’t notice that you’re crying, too. 

“You have this gorgeous smile, your pretty bare face and I fall for it every damn time. You’re so adorable, baby. I think about you everyday.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m batshit insane.” Yujin’s inching closer and closer to the edge. She raises her hands and slams them back down on her sides. “I’m always mad, always gone, and always such a fucking bitch to you.”

“Then you’ll just have to fix that.”

“Why?”

Everyday you play a losing game against her when you’re not supposed to be opponents. You scratch and tear but it’s all out of desperation, a dog-like want to be told it’s loved. Lies have been said and the wounds have been made, but this is what you mean after all this time. 

“Because I want to marry you, Yujin!” 

The subdivisions below this mountain hear your proclamation. Nope, you don’t care anymore. Let them hear it, let them wonder about it. You love An Yujin, and that’s not gonna change.

You’re no longer embarrassed about your shaking words and tears. There’s only one thing you’re humiliated of, and that’s the lack of love you showed to her. That will change tonight.

“And when we have kids,” you cry out with your voice breaking, “I don’t need them losing the smile they got from their mother.”

Time slows down. The wind stops blowing her hair harshly. The few cars passing by are nonexistent. There remains only An Yujin, who turns to face you with bloodshot eyes and a red nose. 

The violent fire is gone from her face. Here, you see what she’s trying to hide: a tired, broken kid who needs love. She’s a girl who, behind it all, only wants you.

Yujin and you are a complicated matter. Fame skyrocketed her career while she left you in the dust. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t yours. But you go to war until you’re left to die in opposite corners of the room. And the last beats of your hearts will still be for each other.

She’s got everything you like—plump red lips, a sunshine brightness, and faith in herself—that you won’t trade a bloodless battle for. There she goes, also having everything you hate: a workaholic attitude, jealousy, and a boastfulness that, still and all, you find so fucking attractive.

You have a love that can’t be broken, a variety of jackets you hug around her. But then you possess the need to spend every waking hour with her that it gets inconvenient, and a hold over her she can’t shake off. 

Through fights and scars, you stay, because the way Yujin feels in your arms never goes out of style.

-

The rosary on your rearview mirror clinks before you take off. The headlights are off, soft music plays on your radio, and Yujin’s in here with you. You missed her so much that it hurts with just her head on your shoulder.

She’s still crying softly. Your sleeve is wet but you let her sob. You’d be doing the same were you in her position. All this time, it turns out the only thing you needed to do was put yourself in her shoes. 

Yujin’s glassy eyes reflect the road before you. They’re much better to look at than your rearview mirror. You could see galaxies in them—numerous stars, countless worlds.

“Still me?” she asks quietly. Her legs are bunched up under her chin while she’s leaning on you. Forget about the seatbelt, about the fines. They’re all not worth obeying when Yujin’s finally with you.

Ponder about what she’s talking about until you see that your phone’s on. Your lockscreen wallpaper is her. Change your phone, change your device, change your camera, and she remains there.

One hand on the wheel, your other one strokes her hair. Nostalgia pours in and you’re taken back to your shy kisses behind the building, running away from practices and meetings.

“Yeah. It’s always been you.” You look at the mirror. “Always.”

Yujin’s eyelids float closed. “I’m sorry.”

You almost stop driving. Yujin just apologized. She doesn’t do that. Whether it’s because of her ways or pride, the word never left her lips.

Not until now. And it’s in your heart to forgive her, regardless of your bruises and exhaustion.

“I-I’m sorry, too.”

Yujin buries her face in your arm and releases a held breath. There’s relief in it. She’s glad you’ve got her again. Someone has to. And you know, by her hand curling yours into place on her shoulder, she’s got you as well.

Pass through the toll gates with a kind of easiness you didn’t have before. Having her with you creates more of a difference than winning the lottery. She’s worth more than the biggest prize. Before you take out your ticket or cash or say “I’ll reload next time,” you see Yujin’s face. Once, you could only see her in your imagination, in your dreams. Now she basks in the dim yellow light with a comforted smile. Your jacket’s pooled around her legs in the form of a makeshift blanket and her midnight hair’s gotten pretty long. Her lips are kissable despite their dryness and you find that whatever An Yujin does, she makes you want to stare.

It’s a long drive. Not too long, though. Yujin lifts herself off your body to gaze admiringly at the city lights. She’s been here a thousand times before. Something about tonight makes it all better. 

A convenience store’s brightness reflects her expression on the car window. The childlike innocence in it makes you sentimental again. You and Yujin were once barely sixteen, looking out the taxi windows and not believing that life could be so beautiful.

She meets your eyes in the glass for a brief moment before you look away. Without giving her another look, you know she’s smirking through her tears.

“Eyes on me again, huh,” quips Yujin.

“I already told you, baby: you’re the only one.”

“I know that now.” Her brows raise. “Why are we going this way?”

You’re driving up a hill to her group’s secret house. Kept hidden behind trees and a well-guarded entrance, no one knows the girls live there. It’s where she’s safe, from stalkers and paparazzi and the general public. How she got out there all the way to the highway with just one post about her whereabouts, you don’t know. An Yujin has her tricks.

Pull the brakes. “Your dorm, right?” you say.

“No, I want to stay at your place.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

Yujin leans in. The windows aren't tinted, so maybe security saw you. But she’s all secure in your arms, lips on yours. 

You forgot how good Yujin was at kissing—her soft mouth feels amazing. Her daring tongue makes you a little wobbly. When it’s over, she’s never looked more sure. 

“Is that convincing enough for you,” asks Yujin, “or do I have to do it again?”

-

Her fists are bright red. The other is skinned through, overlapping with a hissing paleness. The cotton slides over the open wounds and Yujin mewls in pain. Seeing how wounded her hands are, you’re surprised she didn’t break them. 

“You spend too much time in the gym,” you note. Her arm muscles have gotten bigger and her legs are more toned than before. You wonder if she uses exercise as a way to vent out all her anger, just so she doesn’t do so to somebody else. 

Yujin can’t disagree with that. Her posture deteriorates on the carpet. The shoulders of the baggy white t-shirt lift. Almost everything you lend looks too big for her. It’s cute.

The TV’s on, jabbering with news and reporters you don’t care to listen to. It’s mostly on to fill the silence in your apartment. Yujin refuses to talk much.

Her head hangs. “I don’t know why I get so jealous.” She lifts it and there’s tears in her eyes again. “It’s so…”

Yujin’s ferocity scares even herself. There’s a lot of things and places she hasn’t met in your apartment. The kitchen has a newly installed table that serves also as your workplace. Blooming flowers decorate the front garden. But all she takes interest in are her guilty hands. She can’t believe she did what she did: used them to hurt you.

“Yujin, it’s alright. It’s over.” You tape the bandage on. “I forgive you, remember?”

“Doesn’t mean what I did is okay.”

“Then we’ll fix the damage,” you promise. Kiss her hand, then make another promise: “Together.”

The used cotton balls are blood red. Yujin watches as you throw them away and gather the first aid equipment in their kit. You didn’t think you’d have to use them. The alcohol was only ever meant for additional cleansing. The cotton buds were used for your ears. Nothing more.

Then she arrived again. And although she beat you to a pulp, you’re glad she’s home.

Things work differently with her, apparently. 

“How did you do it?” you ask. Sit beside her, your empty space finally being occupied, and hold her bandaged hand. 

Yujin fixates on the screen’s headline. It’s something about a child running away. Speaks to her, in a way. “I told Wonyoung I was going out for a walk,” she tells you simply. “I got my phone, charger, mask, that stuff. I never came back.”

And now she did. 

Her thigh’s propped over yours, reminiscent of the old times. Plus, back then, you didn’t have the TV. The apartment wasn’t this big. The deal about loving Yujin is that you dreamt bigger and bigger to make things better for her. Though she spends time in the dorm the most, you appreciate that she’s here. 

“They didn’t recognize you?”

She strokes the blunt ends of her hair. “Losing the Rapunzel extensions does wonders.”

It must be difficult being under the public eye. It’s a typhoon that isn’t afraid to rain down on her if she slips up. Perhaps that’s why she ran away. An act of rebellion done too late, too perfectly. 

Yujin wipes her face and giggles despite herself. This is the real Yujin: intelligent, prettier without makeup, and sensitive to the point that she acts up. Her fans might not like it, but you do. 

You place a hand over her knee. “You’re beautiful.”

She always is.

“That’s probably why you let me get away with so much.”

Chuckle. “You’re half-right,” you admit, finger raised and wagging.

There’s a funny smile on her face. “What’s the other half?” 

She’s right. What is the other half?

You don’t need to ask yourself a question you know the answer to. 

“I brush off your crimes because… uh, I dunno. I love you?” you say shyly. The confession is truer than diamonds. You find the courage to say it in her touch, trickling over your jaw and shoulder. “I don’t even like getting mad at you. Do you have any idea how much I cry after we fight?”

Yujin brushes her thumb over your earlobe. She has this habit of causing you to burn up feverishly without the need for colds. It’s the charm in her that she brings everywhere. She knows how to make you close your eyes and have you see vividly the dirtiest things at the same time. She’s familiar with you, inside and out.

“We’re more alike than I thought, then.”

“Is that a good thing?” you ask.

She pecks your cheek. The strawberry heat of her breath is, well, a little gratifying. “You got this far,” says Yujin. “I think you can figure that one out.”

You think you’re losing your mind. 

She scatters it more by closing her hands around your face, a gentler touch than earlier. Focus your attention on her—you can’t revert it to anything else. Yujin’s got your heart locked into hers and you aren’t going to do anything about it. Not when she’s this gorgeous, this gentle, this loveable.

You mean it. 

“Thanks.” She tilts her chin, observing your soul and expressions. “For saving me.”

“You could have done that by yourself.”

“No shit,” Yujin laughs. She still has this pensiveness on her face as she strokes your lip. “But it’s nice to know someone’s gonna catch me when I fall.” 

The comfort her touch brings to you almost lulls you to sleep. She’s so soft and gentle that you forget the previous Yujin, who wasn’t afraid to throw you around. Then you study her again—almond-shaped eyes, round lips, and the knife of her jawline—and you realize that you would let her do it again.

This is love. This is love in its prettiest and ugliest form. It isn’t the type you see romanticized in movies or sought after by young girls. Love means staying, because you’re too selfish to let the other have anyone else.

It’s a little fucked up. But that’s you. And Yujin… she’s Yujin.

“It’s weird.” Her grin is mischievous. “When I ran away, I knew you’d come get me. I guess I just wanted to see if you actually would.”

The fact that she’s aware you have her anytime draws a smile on your face. It’s a real one—the ends of your lips pull and they won’t stop past the circles of your blush. You’re enough. Yujin knows you love her. There’s just these doubts sometimes, all the time. Nothing you can’t fix.

“And I did,” you say reflectively.

Her eyelids are lower than before. “That’s why I still have faith in you.”

Your heart floats. Its wings initiate all the butterflies in your stomach. They’re stressed, not knowing where they came from. Meanwhile, your head’s in the clouds and you could never feel any better than this.

After what happened, Yujin believes in you. It makes each aching muscle and permanent scar worth it. 

She gives them a one-over. “Want me to give that some amateur medical attention?”

“I-I’m good. They’re not that bad.”

“That’s okay,” Yujin says. “I’ll just bruise you up another way.”

You want to ask her what that means. Her lips on your neck wordlessly tell you exactly what she’s implying.

Her fluffy thighs top your knees while the kiss reaches up to your jaw. Yujin’s shorts ride up and you’re met with every patch of tanned, full skin closing in on you. She fully got you from that lick behind your ear. 

Sink into the bed of the sofa with no protest. She’s so deep in the crook of your neck and she wants to go further. Knowing who and what Yujin is, you can’t stop her from doing that. You don’t want to.

“My poor baby,” she breathes. Her lips pucker on your cheek, your nose, and arrive at their final destination on your mouth. Stroking your hair, Yujin pouts. “Does Yujin put you through too much?”

Your lips purse above her worrying thumb. “Kinda.”

She’s intimidating enough with the bedroom voice and eyes. You want to run for cover, scream for help. The only thing you don’t want to do is pretend this isn’t happening. 

Yujin grinds herself down deliciously. Friction gives way to heat, and it’s exactly that which gets you to put your hands on her sides and guide her. Your mixed groans spur on the dry humping. 

It’s a little taste for what comes when she takes off those shorts (oh please oh please oh please). Her wide hips come into view as she hovers her naked crotch above your mouth. Her sweet honey drips from her core and onto your waiting mouth.

“Good.”

That’s the last thing you hear before a set of powerful, full thighs immediately comes together to crush your head. Your tongue creates contact with her center and begins to lick fast. The more you lap, the more of Yujin’s juices end up in your throat. She’s a favorite food you haven’t eaten in forever, and now you’re not sure if you want to stop.

Love—a little complicated, isn’t it? You love Yujin (she knows) and she loves you (you know that, too.) Is that what makes you go on eating her out in spite of your neck being her seat, your natural need for air going ignored? Close to that. Yujin’s rich moans—heard even from her thighs, the thickest of earmuffs—trigger a sense of need in you to make her cum that originates from want, then mixes together. It’s confusing, exhilarating, and you don’t think deeper thanks to her face denting your head deeper into the pillows.

However, here’s the conclusion: you love Yujin, up to the sharp danger of death. 

She could suffocate you and not know it. Hours would go on until she notices you’re quite still. But you grab her flesh, every bit of the meaty sweaty skin, and pull her in. Because dying is worth it for Yujin. Perceive your fervent suckles on her clit that evoke the prettiest gasps from her tilted throat as a soldier’s sacrifices for his country. Interpret your nails reddening her thighs as scratches and scrawls to escape a trap you don’t want to get out of. Yujin makes you want to die everyday and she’s the best you’ve given all your lives for.

You leave a kiss on her lips before running your tongue up and down. They’re slick and slippery as they brush on your mouth. When you welcome yourself into her tight hole, you could feel her shake on top of you. She tastes nothing short of delectation. You would eat her out for days if it came to that.

Yujin curls a hand through her hair. “Fucking slut.”

The fact is further founded. 

“You like it? You like my perfect pussy?” She sports a cruel grin. You don’t know where to look: there or her supple tits bouncing as she rocks her hips. 

You shut your eyes and moan. Yujin pushes further down on your face. Her inner thighs warm your cheeks but you’re warm elsewhere, too. Something about her crazed smile while her jagged hair whips against her neck… your blood runs cold. Good thing it’s going south.

She pulls herself off you and you ridiculously chase after her. Her palm flattens you down to the sofa. Whimper, which means nothing to her. She needs to hear it. Or else.

“I don’t think,” Yujin reiterates, grip locked on the base of your neck, “I heard an answer.”

“Your pussy’s the best, baby.”

“Say it like a man. Do you like the taste of my cunt?”

“Yes!” Your words are muffled. “I want it so bad!”

Yujin’s laugh clears any doubts you might have about her enjoying it. She leans down, lets your breaths mingle, then licks her juices off your pursed lips. “Good boy.”

You’re sent back to heaven again.

Capture her clit and seize it with harsh suckles. Her deep cries of pleasure fill the space in your apartment’s four walls. If they penetrate through them the way your tongue does to her folds, the neighbors would have plenty of complaints. 

Nevertheless, you go on fucking her hole with your ready tongue, dragging every bit of the delicious wetness out and for you to take. There’s something you have to prove. What is it?

Yujin’s not worrying about that. The pressure on her most sensitive parts is overwhelming enough. Yujin pants heavily and threads her fingers through your hair. She keeps your head between her delicious thighs, nowhere else. Her hips come to and fro as though they were waves, and you’re the shore drinking up every delicious tanginess in them.

“Oh god, oh shit, you fucking—” 

She rises off your mouth but you pull her back down. You’re addicted now, riding her high. No one can pull you away from her. Her squeals are loud and her pretty head is thrown back. You catch sight of her strong jawline and the sweat rolling down her neck—there’s not a chance in hell or heaven you’d let her run away again. 

Yujin’s strong groans deafen you as she rides your tongue. She’s a source of curses and obscenity, and she gives herself out freely. Her sinful pussy is everything you can ever eat, and her moans and cries of your name are all you’ll ever hear.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” she whines. Her fingernails threaten to pierce right through your skull. “I bet you’d like that. Your dumb whore self is just waiting for it like the whore you are. Am I right?”

You nod. Rub your aching cock over your pants because you can’t take it anymore either. The hitches of her breath and how fucking crazy she is—bouncing on your mouth like it’s just another sex toy, calling you all these names you’d never use to address her in a lifetime—it’s making you pent up.

“Then just take it, baby—” Yujin’s losing herself. Her knees cage your head. “Fuck, do it!”

She twitches and shivers until you’re sure you can’t take her pending release anymore. The flood she rains down is one you drink of until no drop is left. Feel for her silken walls to have more. You’re greedy. Even here, where she‘s on top of you and choking you with her heavenly thighs—you want Yujin all to yourself.

Yujin’s pleasured noises go from deep to whiny, whiny to needy. Your jaw feels sore at this point. You’ve been at it for an eternity. But, for the first time with Yujin, you don’t feel tired. Keep a cruel suction around her nub and finger her to keep those little sprinkles going. 

Your carpet catches her afterwards, a puff of breath leaving her lips. Yours are smudged by her. You can still feel her on them.

Perhaps you should say something to kill the loud silence. Crack a joke? Talk a little again? Then Yujin’s eyes train on you, and it’s all downhill from here. 

“Come on,” she says with a laugh. Her mouth’s pulled into an eerie grin. You didn’t know you’d be so terrified to see her happy. “You really think we’re over with this?”

You’re unconsciously backing away. “Yujin—”

She rises, and you’re again thinking of how tall she is. Yujin’s leg propped over your beating heart alone could stop everything. She could crush you, and she’ll do it, so help her god. 

She strips you of your jeans and underwear. The cold air hits you and you throb harder. You’re on your trusty old sofa again, which is now witness to Yujin stroking your tip. Her lithe finger, long and thin, curls around your cockhead and teases your slit. You’re dripping, and she is, too. It’s self-gratifying to her, the way she knows she has you—your heart; your brain; your dick—all of you. 

“Whose dick is this?” 

And she still needs to hear it.

You gulp. Her voice has dropped lower and her eyes… she’ll be the death of you. “I—I—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Yujin coaxes, nothing close to gently. Her grip is tight and she’s jerking you off hard, rough palm sliding over your sensitive skin and making you weak in the knees. “You can’t avoid me, unless you’re the property of that bitch Wonyoung now.”

Her nails scrape your cock, sending your teeth burying in your lip. The pleasure is as heavy as the pain. You’re twitching in her fist, whimpering, crying. You sound pathetic, and Yujin loves it.

“N-no. I’m yours, Yujin. Nobody else can have me.” 

Because you know the lives Yujin would ruin if anybody else owned you, the tears you’d cry if you weren’t hers. Pain is a hell of a drug that turns the hurt into pleasure. It’s messing with your head. It violates, skinning away your dignity and dreams, and you can’t get enough.

“Good,” she says. She tips your chin up. “‘Cause nobody can make you cum like I do.”

Her ego can’t get any bigger but it somehow does. You look up at her helplessly, while she proudly admires the purple she’s left on your neck. Her thighs lock your hips in place. There’s no getting out from Yujin.

She proves this further by sinking her core down on you. You let out a dual moan, seizing for the other and tensing up. Yujin’s center is set on a mission to choke your length. She’s so wet and hot and tight, and you already forgot how to deal with it.

“This cock,” Yujin emphasizes, “is all mine. Every drop of cum in these heavy balls are mine. You understand me?”

Her plump ass thunders on your lap as she rides you. You spread your hands on it in a silent urge for her to go faster. And she will. 

Her wetness is enough lubricant for her to sink all the way down to your base. Feel her lips spread to allow you inside, and how they hold onto you and never let go. You’re never completely out of Yujin. It’s always her fluttering walls accommodating your girth, sliding up and down. 

“Aw.” Yujin laughs, soft and nearly delicate. “It’s alright. Don’t talk. I know you haven’t had good pussy in a while. It’s too much for you, huh?”

False concern. All false fucking concern. Yujin doesn’t give a shit. She’ll keep riding you. The impact of her center taking you to the hilt, right up to her womb, and her thighs rippling rid whatever sleep you have in your eyes. It’s been a long night, but Yujin keeps you high and awake. You’re always waiting for what she has next. You can’t miss out.

Her fingernail lightly stimulates your nipple and you cry out. The heat spreads to your legs and arms. You’re trapped in tropical weather with her being the sun that shines and shines and shines.

“Fuck, Yujin—”

“Can’t take it?” She smirks. “You’re a fucking wimp, of course not.” 

Yujin pinches your nipple and reaches to you for a kiss. Her teeth knit on your lip and you guess you know if she meant it or not. It’s one of the few puzzles you can solve about her.

The sofa starts to creak, and you honest-to-god think you’ll have to pay for a new one. Yujin’s weight batters you down on the plush. Save the distraction of her tightness draining the life out of you, you would have told her to calm down. But Yujin’s anger is like that of a jealous god—she’ll flood the world and kill to keep you.

You got to start praying for Wonyoung. But what deity would listen to you? The goddess in front of you, who’s riding you to death and isn’t that convinced you could join her in paradise?

You’re whimpering again. She massages your shoulders, rubs down your arms and returns her touch to the base of your neck. Yujin could read your weaknesses like a magazine. She knows you’ll bow down for the squeeze of her cunt, the gush of feminine pleasure, and her lips on yours.

“Cute boy.” She looks at you the same way she would a camera flash, now that she’s all too used to being its favorite: with a sickening smile that leaves you in awe. She’s a performer for you, a ticketless transaction. “Can’t believe I’m so mean to you when you have a face like that. Not that you don’t deserve it.”

You were right all along. You’re just a pet to her. She’ll keep you around for entertainment, mostly because you’re adorable in her eyes, and scold you for the littlest things. She’ll do more than scold you. 

Like right now: she taunts you, the smile on her face growing, with her fingers on your collar twisting it around your neck like a dog’s. Her other hand sifts through your hair before seizing your scalp. She then uses the grip to ride you harder. You can physically feel your tip push against her cervix, forced to reach further. 

The pain isn’t all there is to it. Beating everything, Yujin remains slick and tight. You have to fight your hardest to pull out and return inside anyway. Her fluttering walls match the throb of your cock. You’re so deep in her, so big, that Yujin can’t have too little of you. 

That’s why she makes it a point that for every move she does—ride you, lick you, kiss you—she moans heavily. It makes all the soreness worth it. The wanton expression on her face casts a spell that lets you forget about the tears you saw on it earlier. All you remember and witness are the wideness of her eyes and her parted mouth. 

“Shit, oh shit, no…” You close your eyes. Why does her body have to feel so good? Her thighs are soft on your lap, her hands are teasingly slow, and you won’t ever forget about her cunt—so fucking hot and ready. “Please make me cum, Yujin, oh my god—”

You feel delirious. All the sanity you have is lost; Yujin feeds on it like a vampire using each sweep of her hips. She feels too good. Your head’s up in the clouds but you can’t breathe. Her pumps strangle you to get the sweet fill of your semen.

“Oh, sweetie.” Yujin stops to grind herself down on you. “I always do.”

It’s purely instinct, animalistic and wild, when you release all your second thoughts and lift her up. You pin her to the nearest wall. Her back curves off it anyway, but you push it back with your steady pumps. The sounds you’re gasping are pathetic, denying you the dominance you wish you had. Yujin’s just there taking it and laughing at your efforts. The choked mixture of a chuckle and a moan escapes her and you know you’re close.

She tilts your head up and constrains you to match her gaze. You can’t. She always wins this. It’s not fair that she has that body and takes the advantage to get you sweating and whining. You don’t have a dog in the game. Yujin never loses. She couldn’t even lose your love.

“You don’t deserve me,” she says after lifting her chin. It’s true, just not in the way you think. “But I’m still letting you cum inside. So make it count.”

You were going to cum anyway. Yujin’s sweaty form pressed on the wall looks too hot and her thighs are soft around your fists. Somehow, the egoistic expression she wears that tells you she’s not kidding ties the last knot in your stomach,

You pump her hard, thinking: oh Yujin, Yujin, Yujin. Does it really have to be this way? You, improving your strokes between her legs and chasing the approval of that stupid shit-eating grin on her face? You do all this with the knowledge you’ll never be enough for her, but she stays because you can’t let go of each other. Her repeated and pretty gasps will echo in your ears forever. The punches you took stay flashing back in her mind.

You stick to each other like glue, white as the cum that fills her.

Her nails sink into your skin. Rest your forehead in the crook of her neck to breathe. Her scent is hypnotizing, somehow making sweat and sex smell like flowers. Kind of similar to how it felt like a kiss when she hit you. 

“I love you.” 

A blink and a quiet. “Love you, too,” she says finally. 

Something isn’t right. The cogwheels aren’t in sync. “After everything that happened, everything you said,” you manage, “do you mean it?”

Pull away. Stickiness and sex aside, it’s difficult. Parting from her touch is traumatic. It takes you back to when you lost her and you don’t think you can ever allow her to be alone again. In your mind, you state a reminder: Yujin will leave you over your dead body.

She doesn’t say anything, only looking at you with misty eyes, but you think at that moment, you sound exactly like her.

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do SMAU for Toto Wolff with wife fashion designer!reader? He always goes to her events even though he's busy and she vice versa. Bonus : appearance by their son, Jack Wolff. Just something fluff and romantic. Add something else to it if you want to. Thanks!! :))

Dolce and Gabana vs Wolff vs Versace - Toto Wolff x FashionDesignerWife! Reader

Plot: It's coming to the annual Met Gala and you've got a list of celebrities you are set to dress in your brand, however there's one celebrity your all fighting for. Things are getting busy with that and being not even halfway through the F1 season!

Credit to 44lh for the GIF

"Baby? Can you ask Lewis round for dinner!" you call and he comes trotting round the stairs your son in his arms.

“Mumma” your son cries opening his arms up for you to take him and you frown not being able to hold him anymore so you walk over to the sofa so he can lay down with you.

“Hello baby” you grin nuzzling his nose with yours making him burst out laughing and hold both sides of your cheeks.

“So, Lewis for dinner?” You grin.

“Yes let me message him darling” he says pulling you in for a kiss before tapping away at his phone.

iMessage:

Toto: Hello Lewis, Y/N wants you to come over for dinner. I suspect it’s to ask you about the Met Gala.

Lewis: Ah, yes when should I come over?

Toto: Anytime that pleases you!

“Lewis!” You squeal in excitement as he walks through the door to your home. You pull him in for a hug. You were currently very pregnant with yours and Totos second child, only a few weeks away from your due date. But you never stopped working as, to you it wasn’t really work, it was a hobby that you got payed very kindly to do.

“Hello beautiful” Lewis smiles kissing your cheek before looking you over.

“God look how big she’s getting!” He smiles looking at your stomach making you smile at hold it happily.

“She’s been kicking a lot, she’s ready to come out and meet her uncle” you grin elbowing him a little before your son comes running in.

“LEW LEW” he screams wrapping himself around his uncles leg. Lewis laughs before picking him up.

“So, will you let me style you for the met gala?” You ask, and he laughs a little.

“Mmm I’ve already had a few people reach out to me…” he says cheekily and you gasp in mock horror.

“WHO! Tell me now!” You demand and he laughs.

“Dolce and Gabana and Donatella Versace” he admits and you gasp even more.

“Oh Lord, I can’t fight for you when I’m pregnant” you sigh knowing it would be hard work considering that Lewis had a brand deal with Dolce and Gabana.

“Y/N, chill i was always going to go with you anyway. I trust no one more than i trust you” he grins and you pull him into a bigger hug, regardless of the struggle.

“I promise your going to look amazing!” You grin and he nods knowing you’d keep that up!

y/user

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y/user: preparing for the met gala. Such an exciting theme for 2024! Got some of my faves on board already…

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fan1: she’s tagged Lewis, does that mean he’s attending and she’s styling him?

-> fan2: I’m sure of it! She’s married to his team principle so she has those connections!

toto.wolff: I’m so proud of everything you’ve done this year!

-> y/user: thank you my love!

fan3: shes such an icon, everyone and their mum is wearing her right now

lewishamilton: I’m excited to work with you again!

You’d worked hard for the last few months, after you’d given birth you got straight to working on your new summer line of clothing which you decided on two different themes.

You’d been a little more stressed, trying to keep up with work while looking after both the kids. But it was getting too much with Toto often away. You’d asked him many times to come home and help but he was so busy with Mercedes and how rubbish their car was this year.

It took a whole breakdown of you sobbing to Lewis on the phone saying you were thinking you’d have to stop out of the Met Gala because of the stress to get Toto’s attention.

He came home straight away, pulling you into a hug and giving you the time off you needed. You spent time at a spa, relaxing and spending evenings with your husband which you felt like you hadn’t done for months now.

Of course you didn’t end up dropping out of the Gala, and you’d turned down all the rumours that you were. The rumours being that Versase and Dolce and Gabana were going to take on all your celebrity clients.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you more” Toto sighs and he cuddles into you and kisses all over your face and down your jaw and onto your neck.

“It’s okay, I love you so much baby” you sigh into him and the feeling of him being present.

y/userfanpage

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y/userfanpage: some of Y/N Y/L/N most iconic met gala styles. I saw a thread that was similar on Twitter and thought I’d share my opinion!

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fan1: she is the icon, she is the moment

fan2: we gonna get loads of cool stuff this year, I can feel it!

“Can I have some design input” Toto says as he feeds your son while you feed your daughter.

“What do you mean design input?” You ask suspiciously.

Every time that he’d asked for this it had somehow been a ploy to incorpórate the Mercedes logo into something.

“Well I was thinking if you were styling Lewis you could …” he starts but you immediately shake your head and glare.

“No, no toto I - im not putting a Mercedes Logo on Lewis suit!” You cry with a laugh looking at him.

But Toto knew he had a few months to convince you.

iMessage

Lewis: Is Mercedes plan a go?

Toto: I’m working in it, I’ll get her to cave in soon.

Lewis: it’s gotta look slick okay?

y/user

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y/user: I loved this years theme! Made some beautiful pieces on some beautiful people!

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lewishamilton: thank you for putting the merc symbols on the white lace, it made myself and toto very happy! ❤️

-> y/user: it took lots of convincing but I’m happy with the results! You looked fab Lewis!

fan1: y/n slayed

zendaya: my beauty, it will never get old getting styled by you - a true legend 🫶🏼❤️

-> y/user: STOP! You rocked it! 🍒

You walked along the red carpet Toto on your arm as you smiled for the cameras.

“Y/N who are you wearing tonight?” One of the paps cheekily calls making you grin in their direction as they snap a picture.

“Myself of course!” You shot back with a massive smile on your face that had Toto’s heart soaring. It was a rare day in which you and Toto were free of the little monsters you guys called your children and you were both lapping up the time with one another.

“Looking fabulous Y/N” another shouts and you are walking down the carpet, greeting everyone who you had dressed before you meet up with Lewis.

“Hello” you smile and he pulls you into a hug.

“Looking radiant as ever” he says spinning you round making you chuckle. Lewis was quite literally a part of yours and Toto’s family at this point and so you always were acting like this.

“Now it’s time to face the crowd!” You smile before entering in for a night at the mets.

y/user

Liked by toto.wolff and themetgalaofficial

y/user: never felt so close to my family than designing this one of a kind suit for my husband… and having my dress represent me as a person. What a wonderful night!

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fan1: the fact she literally made his a suit to wear … I’m crying 😢

fan2: they are my fav couple fr

toto.wolff: it was an honour to wear you my love ❤️

-> y/user: I love you so much! ❤️

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 19

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen rises, restless as her skirts sweep around her, streaked from the hem with the filth of the road. Her insistence on finery has proven fruitless. Her once prized gown will likely never be free of stains. She has many more, you only hope they survive the journey. 

She struts back and forth, scowling as she faces the wall and drops her shoulders. 

“Why is there no mirror?” She pouts, “this place is drab. How am I supposed to keep from going blind with dullness.” She flops back onto the bed, “ugh,” she rolls over, “maid, I need wine.” 

“Your highness,” you say sheepishly. 

“Do not,” she raises her hand in a harsh point, “I don’t care about the king’s orders. I have been on the road for weeks, I am sore, I am filthy, and I am tired!” She snaps her fingers, “if I want wine I will have it.” She puts her hand over her middle, “it is for the king’s child. He is thirsty.” 

You avert your eyes. You can’t deny her. Even if the king ordered that she be deprived, you cannot look her in the face and tell her no. If they king never knows, it mightn’t matter. You turn, your disobedience nipping at your ears. 

You emerge into the corridor. The orange-haired guard remains, along with the shadow standing across from him. Bryce looms, picking his nails with a small dagger.  

“Has the queen retired so early?” He asks. 

“She requires wine,” you return, “I won’t be long, sir. Might you point me towards the kitchen?” 

“I will accompany you,” he insists as he stand straight. 

“Do not trouble, sir, I am faster alone. I only need direction.” 

You see the disappointment tick in his cheek. You’re not so mad as you were, only cautious. The king will always come first, his will shall always circumvent your own. It is a reality you knew before but now it gleams in a much different light. 

“Down to the east, on the lower floors behind the statue of the knight in black armor,” he explains, “do take care not to lose yourself.” 

“I will, sir,” you nod and glance over at the other soldier. The man with carroty hair eyes you up and down. 

You flit off, hurrying upon your quest for a bottle. You’re not certain you’ll find bounty in your mission. This is not the king’s castle and you are not a thief. 

You descend and come around the bottom of the wide stone railings. The great hall is empty and only a few lanterns remain lit to guide you. You go east and find your way, coming upon the knight in black armour that at first appears as a real sentinel in the dark. You stop to look upon the suit, admiring the ripples in its forging. 

You go into the kitchen and find the haze of the stove lighting the empty space. You peer around at the dark alcoves as the air glows amber, pulsing with the heat of the embers. You tiptoe inside, narrowing your eyes to see through the dim. 

“Are ya lost?” A growl rises from the darkness. 

You spin and face the black silhouette of a large man stood on the other side of the thick wooden table at the center of the kitchens. You gulp and sway on your feet. He must be the cook or perhaps the cellarer. He likely thought you a rat scurrying around looking for crumbs. 

“No, sir, I... would there be a bottle of wine? For the queen?” You ask, your voice catching in your throat as he looms like some great husky bear. He reminds you of the white beast in the corridor as he comes around the table, the light catching the white of his thick locks. 

His body is as thick as a barrel and his shoulders broader. The flickering hue reveals the scar above his left brow and his pocked cheeks. You wonder at the tint of his hair as you try to tell if it’s the age the lines his face or if it is the same effect as the king. 

“Wine? For the queen?” He echoes sonorously, “hmmm.” 

“Yes, sir, if there would be any to spare?”  

“Mm, suppose a bottle might go missing,” he backs up and turns. He doesn’t beckon you onward but you follow anyway. Something about him bids you without a word. 

He takes you to the far end of the kitchens and grunts as he squats and reaches to his belt, jangling a ring of iron keys. He shoves one in the thick lock in the clasp of the hatch and unhooks it. He lifts the heavy door, thick cedar bolstered with steel and throws it back to hit the floor. 

“Ah, hold,” he signals you with a palm as he stands and retreats. 

He strides across the kitchens and without a word, shuffles in a cupboard. He mutters as he takes a tallow and lights its wick from the embers, setting it into a brass holder. He offers it to you and you take it without a word, curious at the grumbly cook. 

He descends the steep stairs first and you follow, balancing the candle carefully. He takes you by the elbow to help you to the beaten floor and you raise the candle to light the expanse of the cellar. It extends well past the limits of the flame’s eye. 

He goes to a shelf and slides a bottle free of its cubby. He tuts and puts it back. He pulls out several bottles before he makes a decision. He comes closer to examine the glass by the flame. 

“Summer wine,” he says and flicks his pale eyes up to you. They remind you of the king’s though they are paler in the candlelight. “And you, serve the summer queen?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You are a summerer?” He asks. 

“Sir,” you bow your head, “you can tell?” 

“Aye, no winter’s blood wears a cloak with walls to hold them over,” he chuckles and looks around. 

You glance down at the cloak. You hadn’t thought to remove it as the cold radiates from the stone. Even without the wind, a shiver creeps through your flesh. 

He frightens you as he reaches for you, only to touch the fur collar of the cloak, rubbing a tuft between his fingertips, “it is well made.” He lets his hand trail along the front and turns out the interior of the trim. You look down your nose as he reveals a patch you didn’t notice before; a wolf’s head. 

“Yes, sir, it is warm,” you agree and he withdraws his hand. 

“Suppose a summer’s maid needs it more than a winter’s king,” he says. 

You’re quiet. You have nothing to say to that. How many others took note of you in the king’s cloak? Do they whisper about it? 

“Your queen may take the wine,” he holds out the bottle, “and the king, might have a cask of ale should he require. Only one,” he lets go of the bottle as you accept it and holds up a finger, “he does not have leave to drink this cellar dry. Crown or no crown.” 

“Yes, sir. Many thanks.” 

He snorts and shakes his head, peering down at you, “a dove like you is out of place in this nest of vultures,” he muses and gently takes the candle from your hand, “better fly back to your queen, bird.” 

“Sir,” you turn towards the stairs as the candle illuminates your shadow against the shelves. You turn to climb and peer back at the man. He watches you, his eyes flickering with the flame. 

“Gentle creatures don’t fare well in the cold,” he clucks, “best keep that cloak close.” 

You ascend and cradle the bottle at the top, keeping it close as the liquid sloshes heavily inside. You pad over the kitchen floor and into the corridor. The great hall is even colder as the shadows ripple over you. As you come up the stairs, a shiver quakes through you. 

Something about that man, about his words, clings to you. His way of speaking is ominous, like those card readers who would visit Lady Rezlyn. Or perhaps it is only that you are waiting for the inevitable. 

As you near the queen’s chambers, you hear distant footsteps from the other direction. You come in sight of the grey soldier, spinning his knife as he whistles, the redhead guard sending him an irritated glower. You slow, preparing for the guard to repel you or at least seize the bottle from your arms. 

He does not. Even as he turns his scowl on you, he only reaches for the door to let you in. Before he can push inward, a throat clears. You all pause and turn to face the new figure. The king looks between you all; from the guard, to you, to Bryce. Your nerves flutter wildly. You haven’t been this close since the night on the pass. 

“I hope that wine is meant for you, Sir Bryce,” King Geralt booms, “as my queen is not permitted to indulge. She has a vile reaction to the stuff.” 

“Your highness,” the guard swallows audibly, “I... the queen--” 

“The queen is my wife and a wife must bend to the will of her husband,” the king insists hotly. The guard’s expression draws and he mutters an apology. 

“I was unaware of the ban,” Bryce intones, “but I’ll gladly claim the bottle for my own.” 

“Gilles,” King Geralt ignores the quip and points to the redhead guard, “you will inform the queen that she needs retire for the night. In her condition, it is necessary that she rests. If she requires sustenance, she may have bread and cheese and a bit of goat’s milk.” 

“Your highness,” the guard, Gilles, nods diligently. 

“And you will fetch it yourself,” the king insists, “I trust you might find your way around a tray.” 

Gilles stares at the king then slowly pushes into the queen’s chamber. The king nears and takes the bottle from your hand. You let him and back up as Bryce steps closer. 

“Your highness,” the soldier begins, “if I’d been aware--” 

“Hardly matters now,” the king shrugs and steps close to his man. He leans in and whispers something you cannot hear, “as you were,” he slaps his shoulder then continues on. You watch after him, perplexed but relieved at his indifference. Perhaps he has rethought his intent. 

Bryce is quiet until the king’s footfalls fade off. He lowers his chin, rubbing his thick beard. He touches your cloak, a small tug on it, “this way, maid. Let us find you a place to lay your head.” 

The promise of a bed is nice and reminds you of your weariness. Your legs ache as you follow Bryce along the corridor. Your shoulders rack and the remnants of the road begin to lace through your muscles. It is only as you think of laying down that you feel the effect of those last months. 

You yawn and stifle it in your hand. Bryce glances over and lets out a willowy breath. He is certain of his path despite the twists and turns. He directs you to a door at the base of one of the castle’s towers, opening it to a spiraling staircase. 

“Would be at the top.” 

You look up at the winding ascent. The walls are mounted with lanterns over every fifth step. You frown and pull back, turning to the soldier. Your stomach churns. 

“Up there? May I not rest in the servant’s quarters?” 

“You must be closer to the queen,” his lip trembles. He raises his chin and looks away. When his eyes meet yours again, he puts his hands on your shoulders, “rest your head, mouse, you’ve come very far. You’ve earned it.” 

You look at him. You know he isn’t saying all he could. He can’t. You put your hands on his arms and squeeze.  

“I’ll try,” you affirm, “thank you, sir. I am very tired.” 

“Yes, mouse, sleep,” he pulls away. 

“Good night, sir.” 

He hesitates, “good night.” 

He turns stiffly and marches off. You step into the staircase as his shadow disappears and you pull the door shut. You look up, climbing step by step, legs shaking as you get higher and higher. You reach the top step and another door. 

You push the handle down and the lever rises on the other side. You enter the chamber to find it empty. You stand at the threshold and turn, searching for any shadow, any shimmer in the low light of the fireplace. It’s only you. 

You breathe and turn to look down the staircase. You listen. Nothing but the winds battering the walls without. You close the door and slowly wade into the warmth of the room. The windows are hung in heavy curtains and there is a tray waiting on the table. An ewer, cups, a plate heaping with delights. You aren’t hungry for any of it, you’re too uneasy. 

You unbuckle the cloak and drag it from your shoulders. You turn it over your arm and feel the patch sewn into the lining, examining the wolf’s yellow eyes. He’d marked you and you never even knew it. You fold the heavy length over a chair and back away. 

You untie your cap and unveil the short shanks of hair jutting out from your scalp. You haven’t had a chance to shear your unruly locks before they could get too long. You fold the cap and put it on the bed. You remove your apron then your dress and leave them with your cap. 

You take a pillow and a blanket from the mattress and bring them down to the bench at the end of the bed. You fit yourself onto the hardwood and watch the fire’s light pulse on the stone wall. Your eyes glimmer with tears, turning your vision to speckled hues. 

It’s all so nice, too nice for you, and knowing why you’ve come upon it, turns it sour. It is not kindness, there is expectation attached to such generosity. You should’ve known. You did. You were just too stupid to see it, just as the queen always said. 

You twit. 

You close your eyes and pull the blanket to your chin. You embrace the warmth, your one comfort left. There’s a long road that awaits you still. Not only through the Hinterlands but another, more treacherous path. One you never meant to stumble upon. 

Your body weakens, succumbing to your fatigue, overtaking your wrought mind. Your eyes roll back behind their lids and your breath peters out. Sleep enshrines you as blackness eclipses the orange haze of the chamber. 

[nyancrimew]

You do a lot of really cool stuff and you do it As You. How do you overcome the fear of being Perceived and Known? Especially when the stuff you're raising awareness about is controversial or big? I have anxiety and while the "fuck it we ball" mindset has gotten me fairly far, I still find myself regretting putting myself out there or regressing back into a shut in.

i feel like what helped me kinda deal with getting pretty well known is probably not really applicable to many other people, because most of it really was that ive just been slowly more and more exposed to a bigger and bigger level of fame since i was like 16 or so. long before i was at the point i am now i was a really well known person in the android modding community and then the broader and broader tech community, i definitely didn't deal super well with some of my first minutes of fame and there's lots of stuff i regret (i def let it get to my head for a while and because i was also slowly burning out at the time i was quite an asshole to a lot of people). i don't think that was necessarily the best for me at the time, but i learned some lessons especially about community building and i did a lot of media work already at the time so ive been honing my communications skills for almost 10 years at this point.

i first started blowing up with hacktivism related stuff around 2019, and then everytime i did again it was bigger and bigger, making massive international headlines for the first time in 2021 (with the verkada story). i still fucked up a lot and got very stressed at that time, especially with my mental health being extremely abysmal and paranoia growing as state repression became inevitable.

after the indictment in 2021 i did more and more press work again (there are lots of portraits of me from that era) but still wasn't like A Celebrity except for those brief moments, which (as i took a break from hacktivism) gave me some more time to grow and learn. by the time the no fly list hack happened in 2023 i had been spending a few months already doing various smaller cyber security related work and working with many of my journalist friends in the industry. in a lot of ways the no fly list leak and the media reaction to it was just routine work for me already at that point, which i think allowed me to take in all the social fame way better as well. it still all felt quite surreal, but i was already mostly media trained, had quite a bit of experience with working with an audience already so it was just kind of a matter of adapting to my new environment.

this isn't to say i was like specifically working towards fame (especially this level) but ive always cared about community/audience building and media communication. i don't think im like "fake" or whatever, but you do have to consider that despite my laid back style im still someone with an autistic special interest in personal branding and media communications. i just don't wanna do that for corporations or for profit and instead use it for my activist and journalist self advocacy to give things a platform.

[miinatozakiii]

tutor perks!jihyo x fem!reader hcs!

warnings: fluff, smut

based on: tutor perks and watch me take my time. i recommend reading for reference!!

synopsis: basically what it’s like to have a hot rich older girlfriend who’s also park jihyo who’s also the most amazing beautiful person ever

a/n: finneeee i’ll drag it on but this is the last one!!! hcs w the kid you’re tutoring’s rich hot aunt ^_^ oh save me pls save me jihyo…

sfw

jihyo is a busy woman, she manages more people than she can count on both hands and has various deadlines to meet

HOWEVER she changed her mind as soon as she saw you

and how lucky is she to have you, what a surprise you were. still, she’s glad you popped up into her life and doesn’t regret pursuing you, she thinks you’re lovely and cute and adorable and so—

yeah she’s whipppppeeeddd

everyone knows her as this stern, bossy work woman, always trying to get under their skin but you? gosh she’s like mush in your hands

shoulders relaxing upon a glance, smile glowing, and yeah she’s basically a whole new person when you’re there

jihyo likes when you show up to her work on a whim, no warning whatsoever. usually you show up with food for her, and sometimes even flowers which literally makes jihyos heart melt

the list of pet names she uses for you is actually wonderful and each one makes your knees weak.

expect “honey, love, darling, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, lovely, baby” and so many more, at this point your name is used one out of five times if she’s referring to you

in return, you use a few pet names for her as well. it took you a little longer to warm up to it, seeing as she’s years older, but usually you’ll use “baby” or “hyo,” not as many terms of endearment as she uses on you

jihyo has this thing where she cannot stop eyeing you, not even in a sexual way most of the time, she just admires your face and everything about you — it makes you nervous in the best way possible

she’s a gift giving and words of affirmation woman, she will spend as much as she wants on you until she’s happy. it doesn’t r matter how much you argue with her on this, gift giving is something she’s obsessed with, how could she not be when you’re so adorable?

and words of affirmation are a big one. she will constantly compliment you and praise you for your efforts since she’s been in your shoes, college is rough

jihyo loves you to death, seriously

she loves how caring and soft you are with her, the way you brush hair out her face and do so many acts of service for her even with your overwhelming schedule

she loves how you kiss her, how lovely it is to hold you hand and hold you in her arms, how lovely you are.

to be honest, jihyo was out of the dating thing for about two years, none of the people she’s dated have come close to you. you’re a miracle, something she never thought she would find

and even better, you get along with her nephew wonderfully.

at first it was a little awkward (considering the fact that you were his tutor, and that he..: walked in on a little something) but eventually you two warmed up to each other

jihyo enjoys watching you two bond and talk with one another, enjoying your help and efforts to take care of him when she’s exhausted or busy, and even how competitive you two get when playing games together -- she just loves seeing the two people she cares about the most getting along

she was hesitant to be more open about what you two have, considering her position and the age gap.

as soon as people started finding out you were hers (of course, to her approval), she literally could not stop showing you off

shes allllwaaayyysss mentioning you here and there to her friends, like seriously.

"oh, y/n likes those flowers" "y/n would love this" "did you know y/n..." and soooo much more

the only time you two argue is when you're both stressed and things just slip out your mouths, but this is very rare since jihyo is very mature and understanding. fights almost never happen, and bickering is usually playful and lighthearted

you're much more reserved with showing off your girlfriend, since some people might perceive you differently. however, the people that you can trust telling? oh they're gonna know.

you are alwayyyyss talking about her and gushing about her it's genuinely concerning the people closest to you

and since you're younger, you're much more active on social media, so that means posting candid pictures of jihyo on your stories, a few soft launches, dinner dates on your feed, etc

jihyo doesn't mind being on your social media, if anything, she finds it so adorable how happy you are conjuring up these little posts. she loves to lean on your shoulder as you carefully pick out each photo and ask for her opinion, she cannot get over how adorable you are, seriously.

speaking of social media, she has one of course, she’s not fifty — she DOES text like she’s fifty though… before you met her in person you quite literally had the assumption that she was some old lady who baked cookies

she has a personal instagram with a few close friends on it, she doesn’t post much but you’ll definitely be featured on her story here and there — even some posts

jihyo doesn’t mind pda at all, she loves to have a hand on your waist or her arm linked with yours. she doesn’t really like anything over the top.

she’ll kiss you in front of her employees — a quick peck on the lips, cheek, or forehead, nothing more than a quick peck — if any of them dare to comment anything then she’ll glare at them and give them shit for it

(jihyo gets flustered when you kiss her first, so she’s thrown off)

your height difference is a favorite between the two of you, jihyo has to tip toe just barely to press kisses on your cheek or lips; you tease her like crazy for being shorter and older and she usually responds with a kiss to shut you up

jihyo is the one who initiates the most; she takes you out on dates, picks you up from your apartment, and takes on a more leading role in your relationship

jihyo likes to take you shopping, take you out to expensive places because she can afford it and she thinks you deserve it for being so wonderful to her

she’s literally head over heels, but she’s really good at composing herself -- her nephew is the one who has to endure the side of her that literally has no filter

you tend to cook for her often! she's a very busy women with very important duties, so when you can, you're always quick to fix her up a meal -- jihyo always appreciates it

she's really confident and secure with herself, that's a fact and it's honestly palpable just seeing the way she holds herself up. however, she still gets jealous from time to time, and most of the time the age difference is what gets her a little uneasy and doubtful, but you always reassure her that you love her

jihyo has trouble sleeping at night quite often. to fix this, she takes you out on late night drives, even letting you take the wheel sometimes so she can spend her time staring at you. jihyo is quick to fall asleep when she does this, so you've ended up as the driver instead, which ends up in you carrying her back into the house and back to your beds.

sometimes she stays over at your apartment, you've been hesitant to let her stay the night since she had a better, bigger house, but jihyo insisted. she likes to examine the small things: your room, your decor choice, the posters on your wall, pictures of friends and family -- she likes the purity of getting to know you through subtle objects that are special

you two have a very healthy relationship, the only thing really hindering it is schedules and time, but you both work around it.

jihyo loves you to death, and you love her just as much.

nsfw!!

definitely the more dominant and leading one in the relationship, in the streets and also the sheets

she is obsesseeeddd with watching you squirm under her touch, like seriously

she’s a fan of fingering and using toys on you, nothing too big though

even if she were the one receiving, she’d be in control — hands in your hair, handling you as you please her, ordering you around, etc.

LOVES praise, cannot get enough of praising you because you’re so cute and pretty and when you’re all weak for her she just can’t believe how cute and adorable you are while you’re gasping for air

big fan of bondage oh i know that’s right

likes to restrain you with silk or ties that she wears for her work events, loves to watch you squirm over simple touches and praises

big fan of marking you up, loves to see her artwork on the prettiest canvas she’s seen. it doesn’t matter if you’re out in public the next day or hour, she’ll shrug it off and besides, she already has some concealer in your shade and color corrector in hand just for this

you’re a huuugggeee fan of her tits, like, you can’t get enough of them and they’re a really sensitive part of jihyos

when she’s stressed? her tits in your mouth. when you’re stressed? tits in your mouth and yeah the list goes on

sometimes you’re over at her work in her office to lounge or do your own work, and when she has the opportunity she’s all over you — kissing your lips, sliding her hand in your pants, making you stay quiet, marking you up…

and you’ll do the same, sometimes you’ll have her in your lap or her hand will be in your hair while you eat her out

jihyo sends an email to chang, one of her best employees, just so he can let everyone know she can’t be bothered

(all so she can’t spend her time tending to you)

sometimes it can get really slow and intimate, with praise being thrown endlessly while you desperately cry out her name. she loves to kiss your skin, calling you pretty while she rubs circles on your clit and plays with your boobs

and sometimes it can get really rough, especially when you’re in public or have a small amount of time to get intimate

there are countless times where she’s dragged you out with her during a work event just to please you. it’s usually rough and short, something to pass the time and bring both of you pleasure while simultaneously giving you fantasies for what’ll happen when you both get home

her stamina is really good, she can go for a few rounds before reaching the point of overstimulation. you’re about the same, always able to adjust to her needs and she does the same for you

speaking of overstimulation, she adores it. loves to hear you scream and grip the sheets, loves to watch you cum desperately, loves to watch your body twitch and jerk and rut against whatever she’s fucking you with.

the two of you generally fuck as much as you can, and each time is just as good — if not better — than the last

you’re kind of (very much) a fiend for anything jihyo related, you’d fall to your knees if she said anything. you have fallen to your knees just from an order.

there are times when she just needs to sit back and relax, often letting you fuck her with your fingers or eat her out till she’s weak and sleepy.

overall, your sex life is more than just thrilling, both of you are great at communicating and fulfilling any needs to desires.

[deadsetobsessions]

Woo! I’ve finally got time to write! Had to go to a wedding, suffered through eight whole hours of pure disorganized mess, and got mad about it. Emphasis on the disorganized part. So, I bring you: party planner!Danny Phantom.

——

If anyone was to see him now, they’d definitely think that it was odd that Danny was the one in the party planning field. They wouldn’t be surprised if it was Jazz, but Danny ‘wing it’ Fenton planning things? Never.

But here he was, clipboard in hand and checking off hors d’œuvres from the list.

“Anton, could you do a check of the sound system? Make sure everything’s working?”

“Got it.”

Danny lifted the buffet table, laden with heavy food, and used a bit of his ghostly strength to move it over.

“Perfect.”

He double checked the seating chart, and readjusted the miniature ice sculpture centerpieces he made for the party.

Wayne Manor was all lit up and perfectly dusted. Danny ran through his mental checklist. Tabled? Check. Dance floor clean and scuff free? Check. DJ booth and open bar running without issues? Check. Live band setting up with back up instruments and strings? Check. Decorations on point? Oh, he’ll have to get the team to readjust those.

Time to check-

“Danny! How’s it going?” Bruce Wayne beamed and slung an arm around his shoulder.

Danny smiled politely. “Mr. Wayne. Everything is going smoothly. Would you like to check the food the chefs have made?”

“Sure, sure! I definitely need to eat before I drink, haha!”

“That’s a good idea! Good thing you’re about to try a bunch of food.” Danny matched the billionaire’s energy. He’s going to get paid so good.

“So, Danny, are you going to college?”

Danny passed him a small sampler. “Ah, I can’t. Some stuff happened in high school and I don’t really have the grades or the money to.”

Plus, his credentials were in another plane of existence and he hadn’t figured out how to transfer those records yet.

“You could still attend college, I’m sure! Your parents might be able to help pay?” Bruce nommed on the food. He gave a thumbs up.

Danny sighed. “It’s not always an option. Plus, my parents are dead.”

In this universe. His own? Alive and kicking GIW ass.

“Oh, I see-”

“Father.”

“Woah!” Danny blinked, looking down at the baby Wayne the popped up next to his father’s elbow.

“Damian! What’s wrong, kiddo?”

Damian shot his father a flat glare and dragged the laughing billionaire away.

Danny snorted and returned to his tasks. He has to check the speeches and the lighting. Hm… he doesn’t have time to adjust everything how he wants it.

Good thing he knew a guy that could stop time.

“Hey, Clockwork?”

——

“Father, I understand your inclination towards adopting poor black haired and blue eyed orphans, but I would like to remind you that I have far too many siblings to be adding yet another bumbling buffoon.”

“I was not considering that, Damian.”

Damian let go of his wrist with a grimace. “Denial is not becoming of a Wayne, Father.”

“Yeah, B. I could see you grab the adoption papers from all the way over here.” Tim adjusted his tie. “Anyways, Dick is on his way. He’s running a little late because of some stuff in Blüdhaven.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

——

“Batman.”

“Oracle.”

“Look at the footage of Wayne manor.” Oracle pulled up the video surveillance scattered through out the manor. Specifically, the ones of the west ballroom. Daniel Fenton stood in his spot, looking down at his clipboard but a second later, he's moved three inches to the left and the decorations had subtly been moved more aesthetic spots. "I think Danny might be a meta. We'll have to look into him."

Batman stood up, allowing the fondness he had for Danny as Bruce Wayne drain away. This is a potential threat, and Batman will treat him like one. (Danny will remember this.)

"Contact Flash. I need him to scan for any temporal disturbance."

"Understood."

——

"Brucie!" A socialite squealed as she came to bestow hugs upon a long suffering Bruce. "My god, this place is gorgeous! You must give me your planner's number. I could absolutely use some fresh eyes for the Annual Spring Party."

"Awe, Janine! I gotta keep some of the good things to myself!" Bruce whined, inwardly smirking as he saw his kids mock-gagging behind the lady's back. "What if your party's cooler than mine? What should I do then? You're already so gorgeous! Why, is that a Birkin?"

Janine lit up and all but forgot about getting Danny's contact information. Bruce patted his own back for a job well done, even if he had to listen to Janine's itemized list of random luxury goods she had to buy before being offered a bag.

He's a Wayne. The Gotham Hermes wished they could partner with the Waynes. Plus, he's pretty sure he's got at least three of those bags somewhere in the manor to bait out Selina.

Catching Danny sliding in between the servers and going towards the kitchen, Bruce quickly excused himself with a disarming himbo grin.

Time to subtly grill the kid.

——

"Hey, Timmy?"

"Hello, Dick," Tim smiled elegantly at the couple who's companies he was about to bring six feet underground and excused himself. "What's up?"

"Have you noticed that the ice sculptures haven't melted at all?"

Tim blinked, eyes sliding over to a harried Danny being followed by Bruce on a mission. Oof.

"Freeze?" He asked mildly, face innocent of any nefarious thoughts.

"That's what I'm thinking." Dick smiled sunnily, throwing an arm around Tim's shoulders.

"Heard the guy's living out near Crime Alley. We should get Jay to check it out." Tim pretended to laugh, grinning as his brains made plans for a stakeout.

"Heard, my ass. You totally stalked him, didn't you?"

"Got proof?"

Dick snorted, removing his arm. "Nope. I'll let Jay know. You should probably help Danny out, though, he looks like he's about to lose his temper."

"Bruce is at it again." Tim sighed. "Yeah, okay."

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

[narryffdreaming]

HI! HELLO!

RIO GRANDE DO SUL / BRAZIL NEEDS YOUR HELP, PLEASE 🇧🇷

Guys, I know my blog isn't big at all for me to be doing this, but after living some of the most devastating and scary days of my life I feel the need to at least try.

I hope I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure most of you don't know that the state of Rio Grande do Sul (Brazil) is going through the worst climate catastrophe in its history.

To give you some context, it started raining on Saturday (April 27th), and by Monday (April 29th) cities were already underwater. As days went by, and as rain didn't give us a single moment to catch a break, not only floods were a problem, but also multiple, huge landslides. By Wednesday (May 1st), it was like everything was falling apart around us. Everywhere.

Blackouts. No communication. No water supply. Brigdes collapsing. Roads washed out. Houses floating away. Animals drowning. People dying. Missing. Begging for help...

I mean, it's been a really long and painful week. There are so many videos and pictures that I could show you, and I still wouldn't be able to show and explain what we're going through.

Now, a week later (May 6th), we're still living this nightmare. Water follows the course of the river and it's like floods just move from one place to the other. On top of that, more rain is expected during the week.

So far*, out of 496 cities in the state, 341 cities have been somehow affected by all this. At least 78 people died, over 100 were reported missing, and at least 175 were injured. Also, over 134,000 people were forced to leave their homes behind, and most of them won't be able to return because houses aren't even there anymore.

So whilst we're doing our best here to help our people, volunteering ourselves and just doing whatever we can to try and start all over (cleaning up the streets and houses, making food, donating clothes and furniture, etc) we know there's only so much we can do without financial help. Which is why I'm writing this.

If you can, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE 🙏🏻 consider donating and helping us. Especially if you live outside the country — basically bc your money will be worth even more here, as you can see:

€1 = R$ 5,49 || €5 = R$27,46

US$1 = R$5,10 || US$5 = R$25,51

£1 = R$6,40 || £5 = R$32,00

And if you can't donate, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE 🙏🏻 at least just share and spread the word. You'll be already doing a lot for us!

We already went through something like this seven months ago (September/23) and we really, really need more international help/awareness now.

Official links for donations are listed here:

IF YOU'RE FROM BRAZIL: Link

IF YOU'RE FROM A DIFFERENT COUNTRY: Link

Also, if you want to know more about what's happening, you can start here: governo_rs || abcnews || G1 noticias

JUST PLEASE DON'T IGNORE THIS

—

*I wrote this post on May 6th, at 2am. Now it's May 6th, 11:30am (not even 10 hours later), and numbers have already changed: 345 cities have been somehow affected (+4), 83 people died (+5), 111 were reported missing (+11), 276 were injured (+101), over 141,000 were forced to leave their homes behind (+7k).

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I read the post where you answered why you didn’t like Malleus and remembered that you placed Leona really highly on your favs list, and Leona is my favorite so do you mind me asking why do you like Leona?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[Anon is also referencing this Malleus post.]

THERE’S A REASON WHY L*ONA IS IN “Unfortunately Enjoy” TIER 😭 I think for like... over a year (2020-2021)? Probably closer to 1.5 years?? I really disliked him and swore up and down that I'd "never in my life simp for the fake cat". This was largely in part due to book 2, which to this day I believe did Leona a HUGE disservice and made him look very unintelligent and uninteresting. Then I was drip fed new Leona content as it steadily came out (vignettes, voice lines, event stories, his return in book 6) and my opinion of him vastly improved. Book 2 was just a really bad introduction to him and it greatly soured my first impressions. sjfyofqebfeiafns B-But now I'm too embarrassed to openly declare, "Yeah, I like a sad muscular l*on man. So what?" Some would say that's tsundere behavior... BUT I SAY I'M COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED FOR ACTING THIS WAY BECAUSE IT ISN'T EASY TO CONFESS WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST THAT YOU LIKE KINGSCHOLAR OF ALL TWST CHARACTERS

... Anyway! For a much more expanded explanation, I'd recommend this post! It already states a lot of my thoughts, and I don't want to repeat them in yet another lengthy lion-related post. What I'll do instead is summarize the key points for you, plus add some commentary about Leona and Malleus at the end.

Admittedly, he is pretty. VERY pretty. I'm saying this as someone who normally really dislikes hair longer than shoulder length, the "wild"/bad boy aesthetic, and kemonomimi. Leona breaks ALL the rules and still somehow manages to wear everything and anything well because of his sheer confidence and natural grace. His physical features are also very striking... The sharp bright green eyes, the small waist and large chest (there's NO reason why he HAD to be built like that), his stupid smirk, etc.

His pettiness and sarcasm. Leona has, hands down, some of the funniest lines 🤡 I love that he has the balls to speak callously to everyone, including fellow dorm leaders and royalty. His best moments, however, are when he whips out the sarcasm on statements which are so patently untrue--like when he says he is a 'delicate prince' and a 'lost child', both moments from book 6. It's also hilarious whenever Leona speaks in a formal way, showing that he does have the education and the knowledge of how a prince should present himself, but just actively chooses to not make the effort and only does so mockingly or when social grace calls for it.

HIS BIG BRAIN FOLDS, HOLY COW (err, book 2 aside). Leona works smarter, not harder!! He's always one step ahead of everyone else, even if he appears sleepy or disinterested at the time. He figured out the trick behind the "indestructible" golden contracts, he sussed out Jamil WAY before book 4 ever came out (saying that Jamil has "eyes that always glare" and implying that Jamil poses a threat to Kalim's life; this is from Jamil's School Uniform vignette), he takes what he learns in textbooks and so easily translates it to real-world experiences (ie advising the first years on how to more efficiently mine magestones in Vargas Camp), etc. Additionally, Leona knows when to step in and when to be hands off. It's not done out of cowardice or laziness, but rather because he's thinking strategically. For example, he could have resisted capture at the hands of the Ferrymen, but he didn't because it would be smarter to just go with them willingly. It saves everyone a lot of time and energy, and it’s this kind of intelligent thinking that makes Leona really stand out.

He knows how to lead. There are many different types of beastmen, each with own beliefs, values, and traditions that are unique to their own group. As a result, it is very difficult to unify all beastmen within the Sunset Savanna under one rule. Guess who doesn't have this problem? THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S LEONA. There's a variety of beastmen in Savanaclaw, and he effortlessly rules over them and commands their respect.

He actively thinks about how to improve the Sunset Savanna. Leona's ideas are not always the best (like, yeah, you could introduce new technology to the country but expect significant social pushback from the people, who prioritize living in harmony with nature). However, I can really appreciate that he did not entirely turn his back on the people who feared his powers and talked him down. I think he eventually realized the flaws in his way of thinking and actively chose an energy and mining lab internship in hopes of researching ways to slowly implement changes that will benefit the Sunset Savanna while also remaining respectful of the people's beliefs. He is concerned about Falena's lax way of ruling and consistently brings up ideas in various voice lines about how they can improve the Sunset Savanna and its relationships with other countries and tourists. In spite of everything he went through, Leona never wants to hurt those who hurt him with their comments and comparisons to his elder brother. He does not ever want to tear down the system that kicked him down again and again, only wants to challenge it by proving his own merits and the merits of the other downtrodden that he leads.

As much as he wants to deny it, he cares about his underclassmen and goes out of his way to help them. There are sooo many examples of this that it cannot possibly fit in one bullet point. (I would really recommend reading the elongated post linked above, as I go into more detail on this.) Suffice to say, Leona has been shown guiding, instructing, and mentoring many other characters including, but not limited to: Epel, Ruggie, Jack, and various Savanaclaw mob students. This really hits me in the heart because I love reliable big brother characters 😭 EVEN THOUGH LEONA IS TECHNICALLY A YOUNGER BROTHER...

He understands his strengths—and he understands others' strengths too. This man is fully aware of his magical might and powerful presence. He uses every last bit of it to full effect and to attain his goals, whatever those may be. One of my favorite uses has to be In Fairy Gala!! He distracted some pixies by simply demanding water and their attention so his partners in crime could escape—and what’s more, this was a plan he came up with on the spot because their mission was being jeopardized by unforeseen events. Leona is also good about pinpointing people’s best attributes and then helping them hone it. This happens a lot during club practice, bur it also occurs in book 6 between him and Jamil. Speaking of…

THAT WHOLE BOOK 6 CONVERSATION WITH JAMIL DESERVES ITS OWN BULLET POINT. This part was peak mentor mode Leona 😭 Sure, maybe he wasn’t the kindest with his wording, but I felt this was the wake up call Jamil needed to hear. What really got me though was the part where Leona tells Jamil there’s still hope for him… “unlike me”. (I believe this part was translated differently in EN to make Leona’s ego sound more inflated (ie “I’m not like you”) which saddens me immensely.) It paints the image that Leona is still struggling to believe his efforts will amount to anything and that he believes more in his juniors than in himself :(( (which informs my headcanon that Leona mentors younger students so that they can have the bright future he doesn’t think he can have for himself).

Emotional complexity. When you get down to it, what started off as a very basic story of jealousy and inferiority complex actually resulted in a deeply flawed, traumatized, and scarred individual who continues to doubt and put himself down but is slowly recovering. Leona is smart and charismatic—he is everything a leader should be, but he doesn’t truly see his own worth. (Ironically, the only people who do are the ones who look up to him and follow him.) And now… Leona’s actually got his eyes set on graduating! He has his internship plans set! I think he’s made such big strides since book 2, and it’s been so rewarding seeing him regain his willingness to try and succeed return to him.

Looking back on it, it’s so ironic how things ended up working out. Initially, I was totally on Lilia’s side when he insulted Leona and said he would never be the kind of leader Malleus is. Now I’m realizing how Leona does many of the things I don’t see Malleus doing (despite Lilia claiming Malleus is more fit to be king than Leona is).

Malleus isn’t harming his people by any means, but it’s more like he’s… stagnant? Complacent? He’s satisfied with the status quo and is comfortable resting on his laurels. And because of that, Malleus doesn’t really seem to consider what he, as a leader, can do for others, be it for his dorm members or doe his country. (Part of this is also how isolated and opposed to change Briar Valley is, of course! That kind of culture definitely shapes Malleus’s thinking.) He tends to avoid situations which involve navigating social complexities rather than dealing with them himself. Think of Ghost Marriage, when Sebek proposes in his place. Think of Fairy Gala, when Silver is the one that ultimately resolves the conflict between the diurnal fae (who have historically not been friendly with nocturnal fae) and NRC. Malleus is so sheltered that has not truly been put in situations where he has to make tough decisions or where he has been challenged. He has never had to claw and scream and beg for people to see his worth.

Leona has been through that emotional wringer, and though he’s been hurt so badly, he still came out the other side. In running from the shadow of his family—of his older brother—Leona found solace in this new kingdom, Savanaclaw. It’s a place to build himself up, to stew over the ideas he has that have yet to be realized, all with a safe mental distance from home. It’s through the many hardships he has experienced that has refined his wit and given it a place to practice, to be used.

When it comes down to it, Leona and Malleus are two sides of the same coin. Both arrogant princes, the second born and crown prince, respectively, wishing for the other’s circumstances. Leona desperately wants that respect and recognition that Malleus has. Malleus longs for the intimacy and camaraderie that Leona is so easily able to cultivate and command. Leona has been forced to adapt, to learn, to grow from his scars. Malleus struggles with the concept of change (understandable, given his background) and actively denies reality if he finds the truth to be unpleasant. He’s not used to facing dilemmas that cannot be solved with magical strength, and has not ever been challenged in such a way. Malleus doesn’t know how to deal with that, which is partly why be panics and loses himself to emotions in book 7. (By the end of it, I’m sure he’ll be given the chance to see the error of his ways though 💦 or at least I hope he does??)

Their characters are very different, and that’s not a bad thing!! If anything, it makes their dynamic so interesting to observe and it offers varying interpretations of the same “prince” trope. I definitely know which of the two I personally prefer 🤡

[foodfightnovelization]

ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight

Holy chips! It's an exciting time to be a Foodfight! fan, because ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight is finally out! This really is THE definitive documentary on the insanity behind the movie, and it finally answers the question of just what was going on behind the scenes during production. Since I helped out with research (and I even get a short line of dialogue at 45:19) I've already seen everything that was shown off, but had to keep quiet until all the interviews were conducted and the documentary was finished. But now it's out and everything has been made public, the cat's out of the bag (the Fat Cat Burglar?) and I can talk about all the production material that's been shared.

Before I get into any of that though, I'd highly recommend you watch the documentary for yourself. It's insanely well researched and put together, and having worked together with Ziggy Cashmere (the documentary's creator) I know how hard he dedicated himself towards making this all possible. If it weren't for him, the most interesting Foodfight! discovery would've been finding the novelization, and we would have never gotten any real insight into how this movie came to be. It's also a documentary that really speaks for itself- I don't want to say too much about what it reveals since it's all expressed far better through its narrative and the interviews with people who actually worked on the project. My favorite is the interview with texture artist Mona Weiss- she tells such horrifying stories about how she was treated by Larry and other crewmembers, yet does it all with a sense of humor that makes it clear she's enjoying getting to talk about her crazy experiences. It's clear Foodfight! was an unmitigated disaster from start to finish, and there's nobody to blame for that but Larry Kasanoff himself. The movie was rotten from the top down and despite the countless talented animators and artists working on it, nothing could fix the fact that it was fundamentally mismanaged in the worst way possible. I think the quote from producer George Johnsen summarizes it best: "Foodfight! was a good idea that unfortunately lost its way during production. The technology, the art, and the direction were not in sync. Many very talented people gave their all to make the picture, but more understanding of process from the top was needed for it to succeed."

But if you saw the documentary, you already know all that, right? So instead, let's talk about the behind-the-scenes material that's finally been shared! You can find everything I'll talking about HERE on archive.org-

It's worth following the link and checking it out for yourself- there's so much it'd impossible to discuss everything. Artwork, storyboards, bloopers, models, a nude render of Lady X, an interview with Larry Kasanoff, the list goes on and it's still being updated! Despite the documentary already being out, people who worked on the movie are continuing to share new material! It's pretty incredible- for the past year I've ran this blog all I've really had to discuss are two tie-in books, and now there's so much Foodfight! material I can't even keep up with it.

I mean LOOK at all this, isn't it fantastic? The character art by Jim George showing off just how much better these designs originally were, the countless environments showing off just how stunning Marketropolis could've looked as well as the strength of the core idea "what if a supermarket came to life at night", and insanely detailed storyboards for a 7-minute pitch reel that was used to sell the movie to investors. Normally, I'd be ALL OVER this because it's all just incredible, but there's something far, FAR more fascinating than any of it.

There are even multiple drafts of the script (one from 2005 and one from 2007 respectively) and normally I'd be insanely fascinated by those too, making extremely detailed posts explaining the differences between the drafts and how they compare to the novelization, but there's something else that was found that blows ALL of this out of the water and is easily one of the most monumental lost media discoveries of ALL TIME.

That's right, a rough cut of the ENTIRE movie from 2005 has been found, containing nearly ALL the completed animation from earlier on in production. I mean, that's mindblowing right? We first got sent this around a month ago, a little while before the documentary came out, and I literally stopped everything I was doing at work to just sit and watch this. This is the closest we're ever going to get to the "original" version of Foodfight! after all- only 7 minutes of footage was ever actually made before they switched to mocap, made solely for the aforementioned pitch reel, and this workprint contains practically all of it! On top of that there are some great storyboards in here, as well as some truly hilarious ones cobbled together from 3D renders, and the plot is far better than what we ended up with, a lot of the more inappropriate jokes being absent. This rough cut is actually pretty similar to the novelization in that regard, and it also contains scenes that we'd previously only read about in there.

For example, in the novelization there's a snowmobile chase through the mountains, with Brand X soldiers on snowmobiles and a heavy avalanche close behind. This scene was completely left out of the movie itself, but in this workprint it's here! ALL the previously novelization-exclusive scenes are included, and this rough cut is seemingly based on an even earlier draft of the script than that- here Brand X are still defeated by a flood, whereas by the time of the novelization it'd been changed to a lightning storm. There are SO many exciting differences in this workprint, the snippets of original animation we get to see are SO good, and it's SO much better than the movie itself that I think it by far deserves the crown as the DEFINITIVE version of Foodfight! There's so much in it I want to discuss, that there's no way I can fit it all into this one post...so stay tuned, because in the next few days I'll be doing a FULL analysis of the 2005 workprint, pointing out all the extra brand mascots not in the finished film, and generally just gushing about how amazing it is.

I mean, this is it. Just take it all in for a second- the original footage was considered lost media for over a decade, and now it's practically been found in its entirety, embedded in an early cut of the whole movie...isn't that just phenomenal? All the mysteries have been unraveled, all the questions have been answered, and now we can relax, take a deep breath, and watch Foodfight!...the REAL Foodfight! Make sure to enjoy it, and join me next time for my analysis!

[latenightdaydreams]

OMG HANDMKFUXHAB

reader running away makes me so happy 🥺🥺 if you plan on making a part 4 for the creepy trucker series im on the edge of my seat!!!!

I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the cliffhanger with her running away!! I hope part 4 doesn't disappoint🩷

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part 4 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part1, Part2, Part3

Master List✍🏽

Tags: @nachofriess, @blue-spices, @teddy2510, @soosouyoung, @vivasab0tage

🚫As usual this story has HEAVY triggers! Please do not read if you cannot handle them! Ily all and I hope you take care of your body and mind🩷🚫

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.

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, p in v, being chased, pregnancy, Stockholm syndrome

3.2k word count

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As you run you can hear the booming of footsteps, quickly in your mind you’re trying to figure out where you will go; you can’t just keep running, he will outrun you. You see a woman getting into a car with a man so you run to her, yelling in your native language, “Help me! Please!”

The woman looks at you scared and locks the car doors, hitting the guy to start driving. He does and quickly tries to get away from you and whatever danger you, a foreigner, is causing. Your heart sinks and you begin to cry loudly, clearly very distressed. You don’t stop running.

Across the road you can see a row of small businesses. Without thinking you just run across the road. You hear a car horn and tires screeching.

“MAUS!” König shouts as he sees you almost get hit by a car. He sees the car stopping just before it hits you. He freezes for a second as you do in front of the car. Then you look over at him and keep running. König pursues.

You continue to run, more cars having to stop, honking at you for dashing in front of them. König is right behind you also causing traffic to stop as he runs in front of cars. You make it to the other side.

Running into one of the stores, you run up to a man shopping and begin to ask him to call the cops. The man looks at you confused and backs away. Running pass, him, you go to the woman working behind the register.

“Please help me. There is a man that kidnapped me and is chasing me! Please!” She looks at you with the same look before telling you to go.

“No, no, I need help! Please!”

“Get out!” she shouts at you; she assumes you caused trouble for yourself and wants nothing to do with it.

Then König comes into the store, his eyes looking over the place and you run and hide; ducking behind the shelves in an aisle. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, your breathing shaking as you try to sneak out of the store past König.

König walks up to a man and in German begins to describe you, asking if he saw you.

“My crazy wife is manic and ran out of the car, she isn’t taking her medicine, please I’m trying to help her.” König lied very convincingly to the man. He nodded and pointed to the other side of the store where he saw you run.

You hear his footsteps as you try to guess which way they’re about to go. You take your chance and make a run for it. König’s head snaps and begins to run after you. The lady behind the counter yelling at you and König to take this somewhere else.

Just as you’re about to escape through the door, the man in the shop grabs you. You begin to fight the man, “Let me go!”

“Bitte sei ruhig.” The man says thinking that you’re a mentally ill person.

Then you hear König’s voice, thanking the man for his help. His massive hands grasp your arms tightly and pull you to him. He wraps your arms in an x across your chest and wraps his arms tightly around them, lifting you.

You kick back, trying to hit König and shake your body trying to break free, but nothing works. König thanks the man again and begins to walk you out of the store. You’re crying as he does, making sure to quickly cross the road again.

“You fucked up Maus, you really did.”

“Please just let me go!” You sob still trying to break free but twisting your body.

König squeezes you so hard the air leaves your lungs, “Stop!”

You give up and just sob, “Please, let me go!”

“You’re mine, you have to realize that.”

You sob as he walks back to the truck. A small group of people standing outside and watching this happen. König looks at them, feeling panic but trying to appear as a worried husband. He loudly apologizes to the crowd for your behavior and tells the same lie about you being manic.

One older woman in the crowd didn’t believe König, something in her gut telling her that you’re in trouble and that he is lying. She feels helpless watching this scene play out in front of her. She seems to be the odd man out so she is scared to say something. She just watches with sadness in her eyes.

Once back inside the truck, König slams you down hard on the bed and slaps you. “You stupid bitch! You could have gotten hurt! Gotten me caught! Selfish!”

König grabs your handcuffs and restrains you again. This time also grabbing a rope and tying your ankles. You try to kick him as he reaches for them, but he is stronger than you as he grasps them firmly. He ties them so tightly that it hurts. He grabs an old t-shirt laying on the floor and stuffs it into your mouth so he doesn’t have to hear your screaming anymore.

“I was being nice to you, and you fucked it up.” He grows at you as he quickly gets into the drivers’ seat and begins to drive off.

The woman watches the semi take off as she gets on the bus with her group. A heavy guilty feeling in her stomach because she didn’t do anything. She sits next to her friend on the bus, 40 minutes pass as she sits in silence.

“What is wrong?” Her friend asks.

“I-I feel as if that man was lying. That woman looked terrified.”

Her friend nods her head, “She did.” They both take a deep breath before she speaks again, “Maybe you should report it?”

“I think I will.” She takes out her cell phone and calls the emergency hotline. She describes you and König, giving details about the odd situation that unfolded before you all today. She tells them the address and describes the semi the best she can, but she never got his license plate. The man on the line thanks her and they get off the phone.

Because of the adrenalin that flooded through your body, you ended up crashing hard and falling asleep after an hour. König was relieved, but now paranoid that someone might have called for help. Every few minutes he looks over his shoulder to check if he’s being trailed by a cop. This whole situation made him realize you’re safer at home where you can use the bathroom and eat inside the house instead of interacting with the outside world. You’ve lost those privileges.

Hours pass since the incident; you don’t know exactly how much time though. You open your eyes to very bright sunlight flooding your vision. You try to move your hand in front of your eyes to block the light, but you’re still cuffed. This time though you realize your legs and arms are handcuffed spread apart. You’re on a bed in some house. You lean your head forward and look around. You see a wooden desk, wooden dresser, and a dark blue recliner. Next to the recliner is a tripod and a ring light.

Trying to pull yourself free you realize that you’re completely naked. You begin to shake and pull, letting out an aggravated groan once you can’t pull your limbs free. Heavy footsteps travel down the hall, approaching the door to the room you’re in.

König opens the door and walks forward towards you. He stops near the side of your bed and caresses your stubbly legs. “Finally awake.”

You look at him with fear in your eyes, “Where are we?”

“My house, our house.” He sits beside you on the bed. “Why did you run? I was so nice to you.”

“I- I,” you can’t even think of a way to answer without angering him and making things worse. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” König tilts his head to the side and looks at you with a blank stare.

“Yes.”

“No, you aren’t Maus. You’re just scared. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. You’ve just lost your privileges. You’re safe. Don’t worry.”

While he is trying to be comforting, he isn’t. He’s the one keeping you captive. He’s the one hurting you and taking you away from a happy life. You keep your eyes on him and then look back towards the bright light from the windows. You realize the window is open and there’s a light breeze coming in.

“Don’t bother screaming Maus, I live in the country. Just you and me for miles.”

You don’t look back at him, just let those words sink in and look out of the window.

“Welcome home, I’ll show you around soon. It’s a nice place to raise a family.”

Your head snaps in his direction, “A family?”

“Ja, Maus. A family. You’ll make me beautiful babies. Plus men will pay extra for your pregnant body.”

König rubs his hand along your abdomen and smirks.

Meanwhile, police have made their way to the truck stop you were seen at. They talk to the woman that was working the cash register that day.

“They came in, both went to the bathroom, and then next thing I knew she was running and he chased after her. When they came in they looked like maybe boyfriend and girlfriend? They were close.”

“Okay, are there any surveillance cameras I can look at?”

“I’ll have to get my boss.”

“You do that.” The cop puts away his notepad and looks around the store before the boss walks out.

“Right this way, officers.”

You don’t even know how much time has passed and there has been no sign of help. You remain inside of König’s home. Your stomach is growing, swollen with his child. An old medic friend from his military days comes to the house to check on you and the baby, König tries his best to take good care of you.

It’s a warm day and you stand outside in a green summer dress, 6 months pregnant. You’re kneeling in the flower bed and pulling weeds. You stand and begin to walk to the water hose, and then your chain pulls.

König has a metal shackle around your ankle, bolted to the house so you can’t run off. He hears the chain pull as he is behind the house trimming back bushes.

“Need something, Liebling?” He walks over to you wearing jeans and a black shirt, both covered in small green specks from the bush leaves.

“The hose,” You point only a few feet away from you.

He walks over and grabs it for you, “Don’t stress yourself out, you still have to film today.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

König leans in and puckers his thin lips waiting for you to kiss him. You tiptoe to meet him the rest of the way and kiss his lips. He smiles at you before slapping your ass and walking back to what he was doing.

You water the garden, feeling your baby move within you. Resting a hand on your stomach, you begin to caress your belly. You let out a deep sigh and look around, trying to imagine giving birth to your baby here and raising your child here. König as a father…how will that work? Will I eventually fall in love?

“Liebling, are you okay?” König walks up behind you, wrapping one arm around you resting on your stomach as the other takes the water hose from you. “You’re drowning the flowers.” His voice has a light chuckle.

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about giving birth. Being a mom. I’m scared.”

König drops the hose and wraps his arms around you.

“Don’t be scared. I knew from the moment I saw you that you’d make an amazing mom. Don’t stress you and our baby out, okay? I’ll run to the city tomorrow and get you whatever you’re craving.”

You nod your head, “Thank you König.”

“Of course, now let’s go film, ja?”

Filming was your least favorite thing to do, but it’s how König makes enough money to stay home with you, so you do it. He takes out a key and unlocks the cuff on your ankle. His arm goes around your body tightly so you can’t run away if you try.

Walking back inside, he brings you into the bedroom. “Shouldn’t I shower first?”

“Nein, the sweaty look is hot.” He kisses your forehead.

You sit on the bed as he sets everything up, placing the cameras where they need to be and making sure the lighting in the room is good. Once done he strips down to nothing, his cock soft but still 6 inches. He begins to record on all cameras and walks up to you on the bed.

He gets behind you and begins to massage your swollen breasts. You’ve already started to fill up in preparation for the baby, growing two bra sizes. König does everything he can to stimulate more lactation. He begins to squeeze your breast, forming a small wet patch on your dress. You look away embarrassed, he laughs. He squeezes more, letting the wet patches continue to grow, his erect cock rubbing against your back now.

“Let’s take this dress off Liebling.” He whispers as he helps you stand.

Once standing he slowly takes off your dress, his hand gliding over your pregnant belly. His lips kiss your neck tenderly as he makes his way down to your breast. Squeezing, he squirts a small amount of milk on his face before wrapping his mouth around your breast and suckling, drinking in any milk he can squeeze out of you. You let out soft moans as he licks your nipple before sucking again.

“Your milk is so sweet.” He growls as he seats up on the bed.

Again, he goes behind you and begins to squeeze your breasts for the cameras. Make sure to get good squirts of your milk, rubbing some of the milk all over your breast to make them shine. His head resting on your shoulder watching as he does this. Turning his head he begins to kiss the side of your face and you turn your head to meet his mouth and kiss him back.

He lets out a soft moan as he gently cups your breasts in his large hands. His tongue pushing into your mouth and twirling around, mixing your spit with his. Pulling away from the kiss a line of spit follows.

“Lay back Maus.”

You do as he says and lay back flat on the bed. He comes up and caresses your large stomach, leaving a trail of kisses up to your lips again as he positions himself between your legs. He reaches over and grabs one of the cameras and holds it angles at your pussy. He slaps his heavy cock over your tiny clit, causing you to mewl and move your hips. Disgusted with yourself because you actually want his cock.

“Beg for it.”

“Please fuck me.”

“Be more specific, Liebling.” He slaps your clit with his cock again.

“Please give me your cock. Please.”

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.” He begins to slip his cock into you.

You moan out and grasp the bed sheets as you feel his cock push in all the way. His hand pulls one of your legs back, making sure to leave room for your big belly. He holds the camera up to your face and you make sure to act as if you don’t want to be recorded; he said the men like it more when I act like I hate it.

“Moan for me.” He taps your face.

You let out a tiny soft moan while suppressing the enjoyment that you’re feeling. He puts the camera down to rest his hands on your belly as he begins to buck his hips more rapidly into you. It hurts so you genuinely moan in pain and try to scoot back.

“Don’t run for it.” He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him.

“It hurts!” you moan out as you squirm.

König lets go of your hips and leans forward, holding your shoulders, and he begins to fuck you so hard you begin to scream.

“Ja! Scream for me! Hure!” He lightly slaps you but you act like it was worse.

Recording takes hours to complete. König helped you get all cleaned up after and chained you to the bed again, the chain is long enough for you to walk around the room, but bolted to where you can’t get to the door or window.

“I’m going into the city to get you food and treats, what are you craving?”

You shrug and think for a few seconds, “Maybe something cakey? Also, just some stuff to make brownies or cakes to have around the house.”

“I can do that.” He leans down and kisses you gently.

“I love you both, I’ll be back.” He caresses your stomach.

“We love you too…” you watch him leave the house.

Once you hear the car door close you rush to the drawers trying to look for something that you can use to break free from the shackles. As usual, there was nothing. You sit on the bed and cry, hugging your stomach.

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know what to do.” You whisper to your stomach. You feel torn between wanting to run towards freedom and wanting to stay here with König. A weird part of you beginning to feel for him, but also wanting your old life back. You can’t even recognize yourself anymore.

In the city König goes into a local grocery store. He collects everything you asked for plus just thing for the house. He finds a baby onesie that says “I love Daddy.” König holds the tiny little piece of clothing in his hands, smiling thinking about holding his baby in his arms. He adds the onesie to the cart.

He walks up to the front of the store and begins to bag his items as the older woman working the register scans his items. He looks around the store as he waits for his payment to process and he sees a board of posters.

“Here’s your receipt.”

König’s attention turns back to the nice woman. He smiles and grabs the piece of paper from her, grabbing all of his bags and walking to the poster board.

In big red words he reads the words MISSING. König stays there and reads the details. His heart sinks.

Young woman, your skin tone, hair color, body build. His semi-truck color, build, hair color. The fact you’re foreign and what language you speak is even listed. He can feel his cheeks turn red as he begins to sweat. He reaches up and rips the sign off the board and turns to leave the store.

He sits in his SUV and looks at the poster. He wonders how many there are and how much information the cops actually know.

“FUCK!” He yells in his SUV and he runs his hands down his face. He takes a deep breath before pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to speed home to you.

[ponett]

Out of curiosity, have you checked out some other indie animation besides Hazbin? (although Hazbin isn't actually independant so uh) Stuff like The Amazing Digital Circus or Big Top Burger?

I'm already watching both of those, yes. I've liked Worthikids' stuff since before Bigtop Burger, so naturally I enjoy the show. I have perhaps slightly complicated feelings on TADC as a fellow indie creator because, like... it makes me a little exhausted seeing how much they have to push merch and inspire a huge, obsessive fandom from the very start just to get the show made. You finish an episode and it's immediately like "now go buy the plush of this one-off character!" But also, the show is good and funny and very nicely animated, so it doesn't feel as cynical as it might otherwise. I'm just tired of having to play the game of capitalism to get art made, and I think about how shows that don't have that combination of marketable character designs and mysteries for fans to theorize about between episodes don't get the same support, like I said in my Hazbin review. This is less an issue with the show itself and more an issue with the state of the world around it.

Off the top of my head I'm also a big fan of Felix Colgrave's work, stuff like Double King or Donks. And I think PilotRedSun's stuff is genuinely aesthetically interesting and funny beyond its meme status - same with AC-bu. And Ed Atlin's always funny. There are just a bunch of cool animators out there whose stuff I like when I come across it on social media, too many to list. The world of "indie animation" is very broad, and it goes far beyond the handful of bigger budget shows from small studios that people tend to hype up these days.

[nalyra-dreaming]

S2 predictions...

Just listing this before the episodes hit next week :)

Based on the interviews, reviews and all the tidbits we have heard and seen over the last 1,5 years.

I'm putting this under the cut because there might be spoilers in it that some haven't seen?!? Probably not many surprises, given my asks :) Just in case.

Not in a particular order!

Armand's retelling of Lestat's and his past will have a very deliberate touch to them. He will paint his and Lestat's (his)story in a certain light, for effect. Personally, I don't think it will take away anything from TVL in s3 (if anything, it might build more anticipation, at least for me). Gabrielle won't be in it.

Louis will be aware. He knows - most of it. (What was it in that interview? 80-90%?^^). He probably has asked Armand to help, too. The things not matching will be little things at first, if at all. We haven't heard anything in the reviews wrt the episode 5 fight, or murder night, so they are keeping that for the last two episodes (since we have already seen shots of it in the trailer). That means that the events will likely be combined with the trial, and that... will then be quite cataclysmic. And harrowing.

The trial itself will probably be version 1, too. We'll see if we get a second one after the tale breaks once more in this season, but it might be that we only get it in s3, where we will probably get another ep5 revisit, too, imho. This version of the trial will show Lestat fully in control and blaming Louis and Claudia, too. (This is the version Louis will believe happened.)

Louis and Claudia probably have to flee in the war, we saw them running, which is probably also why they don't have access to their money. That will change in Paris, I bet. Roget's will come into play here, even if only in a short nod.

Louis and his hobby are definitely linked to Louis' perception of reality (and therefore his visions of Lestat, too). Guess Lestat is eating that one photograph Louis looked at in the extended look there... :) - and it will be the one they look at "together".

I don't think Claudia and Madeleine will be lovers. Not only to avoid the kill-the-gays-trap, but also because Claudia apparently bonds with her over compassion, not desire. Also, I believe it was Mark Johnson who said they would stay close to the book there.

The Eastern Europe parts will be gritty and sobering for Louis and Claudia. The horrific possibilities of their existence will be a grating wake-up call to the way Lestat lived with them.

Nicolas will be in the flashbacks to the 1790s, but Armand will not dwell on him for long... again, which I think is only proper, because a) did Armand not care for him too much, but b) also because I don't think the flashbacks will be as extensive as might expect them to be.

That said, Lestat strutting in with the cross does speak of a certain scene, so the kidnapping probably happens. As others have theorized as well, I think that it might be when Lestat is charging Armand in the red coat outside on the street.

I think the bitch fest in the first few episodes in Dubai will be epic.

A propos bitch fest, the one between Armand and Lestat in the past will be tame by comparison, as Armand's version is much more focused on how intense Lestat was and their relationship, imho. Nicki is likely dismissed as inconsequential, as said before.

Claudia will come full into her own throughout the season - almost there, almost free, toasting to the future - and then. That kiss to Louis' cheek will be the "Judas' kiss" just before the vampires come for them.

I think Louis will (try to) break up with Armand (to leave with Claudia and Madeleine), which will lead to Armand allowing it all.

Armand's little Frankenstein moment might be founded in genuine desire to help her slash wants to see what happens. I do think it will be part of the reveals in the last episodes.

With Carol Cutshall's comments re Lestat's pinstripes in mind (aka he being a "jailor" to Louis and Claudia) that speaks volumes for the pinstripes on Armand's pajama as well as the bedroom design in Dubai. With the comment re Louis "missing the natural world" in s1, I do think Armand is fully controlling the whole environment and keeping Louis in a golden cage in Dubai.

When the books come crashing down (which is in all likelihood connected to The Groan somehow) Armand will try to save Daniel. And he therefore might miss out on saving Louis.

I think Louis will throw himself off the balcony at sunrise (in a Merrick-esque event due to the (diary-) revelations) in an echo of Paul's suicide. I think they will think him dead and put him into his literal coffin and put pebbles on him, because he so loved the tree (which might have Claudia's ashes buried at its roots). (And that is why Jacob commented on "spreading Louis' ashes" through NOLA with these pebbles - because the Louis after will be changed.)

I think he will be resurrected through Lestat (and possibly Armand) as seen in the scene in the one trailer.

Lestat is somewhere near, probably comatose till the last episode. He will likely connected to The Groan, because while Armand certainly can conjure metaphysical events in the books this specific "hint" is imho connected to something else in that building.

That "something else" could very well be "Those Who Must Be Kept" because even in s1 there were a lot of Marius hints, and... well. The name has already dropped as well in s1, and in that one review there was that "Adam and Eve" hint... so I expect a lot more of THAT, too.

The Devil's Minion will be fact after the season - we have already heard about a bottle episode and Rolin's comments are fresh in my mind re ep5 and 8 and I expect those to set up, detail and then twist DM around.

Armand will save Louis and they will be hunted by Santiago, who Armand then defeats. Louis will burn down the theater with the fire gift (which he might discover during the season, I concur with @cbrownjc there (as well^^)).

The "Dream-Lestat" manifestations will be the representation of Louis' guilt, but also saying that what Louis cannot, for a lot of reasons. They will also taunt Louis with (and show us) that which Louis suppressed in s1.

Claudia will be (even more) breathtaking this season, which will make what will happen to her even worse to watch. That will not soften the blow of her diary-reveal (as said before likely at the trial) wrt Louis though, and I fully expect them to have the relevant entry read out (or narrated by her) live on stage.

I think the NOLA "reunion" will be around the year 2000 and that this is why Louis stopped killing, though why exactly will remain to be seen.

That's more or less it. I hope they'll think of the "Book of Hours" that got lost in Berlin (from ep6), I hope they'll think of Jonah, and maybe Miss Bricktop. I'm very interested to see what they do with Alice and Daniel's daughters, as daughters and twins are very important in the VC.

I'm extremely excited about the hints we'll get wrt more - since the Talamasca are apparently involved that opens the door to sooooooo much - and opens up crossover possibilities, too.

And I haven't heard anything of the "cameos" that Sam mentioned (of other vampires) - so we might see those in the last episodes as well.

Who knows, maybe Gabrielle will show up at the end!!! (And, maybe she will be the "interior designer"... and maybe, just maybe, Antoinette will show up as well.)

[the-ginger-avenger]

My main gripe about how Ted Lasso handled Jamie and James’s relationship in the second and third season is that, in a way, it contradicts Jamie’s arc from the first season. And I LOVE Jamie’s arc from the first season. I love how sweet Jamie became later in the show, but if I have to pick a Jamie, it would be season one Jamie, hands down. Even with him being an egotistical jerk. Even with him pushing back against everyone who tried to help him. Because that progression he had from the beginning to the end of that season was the most heartfelt, emotionally gut-punching arc for me. And then they ruin it.

Because what is Jamie thanking James for in Mom City? For pushing him to be a better player? Even if you ignore Jamie literally saying in the bonfire episode that his mother is the reason he works so hard, the whole point of his arc in season one was that, while he was a good player, he wasn’t as good as he could be BECAUSE HE WAS THE PLAYER HIS FATHER PUSHED HIM TO BE. Listening to his father, making it all about HIM, acting like he was the only good player on the team, was actually holding him back.  And even in the second season, when Jamie talks to Ted about how James keeps pushing him, it’s about the wrong things: how long he plays, how long he sits on the bench, how many times he scores. Every single thing that goes against what Ted was trying to teach Jamie in the first season. So what is he thanking James for? Why did they have Ted go from trying to get Jamie to stop acting the way James wanted him to act, to telling Jamie that a lot of famous people’s dads were “real pieces of work” as if that was the reason they ended up working so hard or became great (can you imagine if, instead of telling Rebecca that she’s not the only one who could see who Rupert actually was, Ted told her that a lot of strong, independent woman had ex-husbands who were “real pieces of work”? It’s infuriatingly dismissive)? And if he’s thanking James for pushing him to be a better player, then he’s thanking James for pushing him to be the player he was in the first season, which they spent at least eight episodes trying to get Jamie to not be that way??

And I honestly don’t think the writers really knew why he was thanking James. You can compare Jamie’s speech in Mom City with Ted’s speech to his mom. Ted clearly lists out what he’s thanking his mother for and what he’s angry with her about. Which works out great because the audience has never met Dottie before. The show only gave bits and pieces about what she was like, or what her relationship with Ted was like, so they had Ted clearly state why so the audience could understand better.

But not Jamie. He doesn’t have to state why he’s angry with his father because the show went to great lengths to show why. Nothing good or redeeming was mentioned about James once in the entire show. That character had maybe a grand total of ten minutes screen time, during which he threw a shoe at his son, screamed at him, got angry when his son wouldn’t let him and his buddies on the pitch, acted like he was going to hit Jamie, and BEAT UP BEARD. So, no, Jamie didn’t have to explain why he was angry. But then he says “thank you” and doesn’t offer any explanation. The show didn’t even give the audience any reason why Jamie should be thanking his dad. Unless, it’s somehow for pushing him. Which again, goes against his arc in the first season, and, in way, makes that whole scene feel like it was put in there solely for Ted’s benefit.

And they could have developed Jamie and James’s relationship more in the third season. Heck, they could have humanized James more, the same why they did with Rupert (who the show actually kept as a villain, who Rebecca let go of her anger towards but was never told to start a relationship with him again. Honestly, the parallels between Rebecca and Jamie’s characters and yet how differently the show handled their arcs makes me go insane but that’s a rant for some other day), but they chose not to which is honestly baffling considering how much screen time Jamie had in the third season. Nothing about his arc should have felt rushed or tossed in at the last minute.

And it’s so opposite from the end of his arc in the first season that it’s like watching two different shows? Because that season one finale? That pass he made at the end of the game? That decision to not listen to his father? That carried so much more weight and so much more character development than that half-baked forgiveness arc.

Because that pass? That was a CHOICE, man. It wasn’t something he did because he was trying to make amends with his teammates. It wasn’t something he did because his current coach was telling him he had to. He passed the ball, he gave up the chance to score the winning goal and the glory that would come from that, even knowing his dad was in the stands, even knowing how angry James would be, because he knew that was the better choice. He knew that made him a better player. (It was also a very strategic move. He knew Zoreaux, and every other player on Richmond, would never even consider that Jamie would pass the ball. You can even see how Zoreaux was fully focused on Jamie. In way, it’s kinda similar to that decoy play Jamie was so against).

And that moment between Jamie and Ted at the end surpasses any other moment they have because it was actually about Jamie, and everything that followed after (except for bringing Jamie back onto the team in season two) felt like it was more for James’s benefit. But that was Ted reaching out to Jamie, giving him that bit of encouragement and praise that his father should have given him. That was Ted, essentially saying “Hey, your dad is wrong. You did a good job." And it’s a very private moment. It’s not in front of cameras or the press or even in front of other players. Ted himself doesn’t even deliver the note. It’s as far from “mind games” as it possibly could be because the season is already over. Richmond has already lost. It’s a “good job, I’m proud of you, now here’s something my son gave me to protect me that I’m now sharing with you”. It’s something short and simple and quiet from someone who is usually very long-winded and convoluted and loud, and it is so much more sincere because of that and you can see how much that impacted Jamie. 

And wouldn’t it have been more impactful, for both Ted’s arc and Jamie’s arc, if Ted hadn’t told Jamie to forgive James? If Ted had been able to heal enough to take a step back and look at the situation without it getting tangled up in his own trauma and guilt over what happened to his dad? Wouldn't it have been deeper for Ted, who later would learn that yeah, his son might end up leaving him but he still has to try, to have actually seen a situation where a son chooses to not reach out to his father? Wouldn't it have been more profound for Jamie to no longer let his actions be dictated by his anger or his feelings towards his father. He's no longer angry, but he's also no longer striving for his father's approval either. He no longer cares if his father thinks he's weak or not  (kind of like how Rebecca stopped letting her anger and hurt over Rupert control how she reacted, and yet didn't have to start a relationship with him? But again, they paralleled each other and yet they took them in completely different directions). They could have had a moment that had the same amount of emotional weight as that scene in the last season, but no. Apparently we should just forget everything that happened in the first season because James was actually doing his son a favor the entire time.

[reiderwriter]

reiderwriter 5k writing challenge

hello, my lovelies, and thank you so much for 5k followers~♡ it's been just under a year since I started writing on here, and it's been so fun interacting with everyone and writing for Spencer and the other members of the BAU team! I was a bit unprepared for some of my other milestones and threw some stuff together last minute for them, but I've been thinking about a writing challenge for a while and I finally decided to do it!

Please note: This is a writing challenge! All the prompts below are meant to inspire you to write your own fics and not as prompt requests for me. I hope you can use them as a starting point to write~♡

The theme for the challenge is:

daydreams and shooting stars`☆

There are two sets of prompts to choose from! The daydreams' prompts are based on classic fanfiction tropes that we know and live, and the shooting stars prompts are based on the zodiac signs. There are 12 prompts in each list, and you're welcome to mix and match prompts as you like! Maybe you'd like to combine your star sign with your favourite trope, or two particularly match well, or if you like a single prompt, you can just write for that. I don't mind if the fic is only very loosely based on the prompt, too, do whatever you'd like!

The writing challenge will run up until my 1 year writing anniversary, July 27th, so you have plenty of time to get your fics in! I'll be reblogging all the entries, and at the end, I'll add them to a recommendation list! Be sure to tag @reiderwriter in your fic, or use the hashtag #reidersdaydreams or #reidersshootingstars in your tags! I'll be tracking both~♡ You can submit as many entries as you like!

Rules for submissions will be at the end. Please read them before submitting~♡

without further ado, here are the prompt lists~☆

DAYDREAMS

ONLY ONE BED - a true classic in the sense that I will be reading only one bed fics down to the second I take my last breath. Feel free to invert this to "too many beds," or even "no beds at all, but somehow we're still cuddling," either way, I will read it and likely enjoy it greatly.

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE - which character is grumpy, which character is sunshine? my favourite grumpy x sunshine dynamics are the gloomy character trying their best to become more sunny after a tough life 🫡

FAKE DATING - we, in the criminal minds fandom, have written possibly every undercover mission possible to make our characters make out, but I'm coming in as a simple woman to ask - please do it again 🫶

OH. OH. - the plot revelations! Give me them! The sudden moments of clarity! I'm a fan, goddammit.

IDIOTS IN LOVE - there is nothing better than two huge dumbasses falling head over heels in love with each other in an "aw shucks" kind of way. Also, I'm an idiot, representation matters.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE - coffee shop AU? Soulmate AU? HANAHAKI AU? If someone could please un- or re- traumatise my favourite characters I will be eternally grateful

SECRET IDENTITY - give the character their Emily Prentiss Lauren Reynolds moment, or just make them dress like a clown for like 30 minutes. Both count.

MUTUAL PINING - This harkens back to idiots in love, but it's about the LONGING, it's about the PITIFUL STARES, it's about the BURNING PASSION.

SECRET RELATIONSHIP - my love of gossip makes me a sucker for secret relationship stories because I truly want to be in everyone's business. Character A and B are dating? Brilliant. It's a secret? BRILLIANT.

SICK FIC - your poor little meow meow has a cold. Or your poor little meow meow has been poisoned with anthrax. Or your poor little meow meow is dealing with possible symptoms of schizophrenia. Or your poor little meow meow has been shot-

PSYCHO X PSYCHO - reidams fans, this one's for you 🥰

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - half of my requests are enemies to lovers requests! Feel free to include rivals to lovers, lovers to enemies, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, or any such dynamic that your heart desires.

SHOOTING STARS:

Aries - "I burn for you. I can't sleep at night for wanting you. It's the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is."

Taurus - "There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

Gemini - "There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne, it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."

Cancer - "I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

Leo - "There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion."

Virgo - "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."

Libra - "Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are."

Scorpio - "She didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived."

Sagittarius - "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."

Capricorn - "There's a low-level, specific pain and having to accept that putting up with you requires a certain generosity of spirit in your loved ones."

Aquarius - "An education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs, and then you had the urge to pass it on."

Pisces - "I think it's perfectly acceptable and rather admirable to be moderately delusional."

Rules:

I'm accepting reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fics for this challenge. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character from any fandom you write for. I assume a lot of people will stick with CM, but feel free to write for whoever you choose!

Please tag me in your entries or send the link to me in a DM. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge. Again, the tags I'm tracking are #reidersdaydreams and #reidersshootingstars ♡

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I will not endorse, nor do I want to read smut written by minors. I will check the ages of accounts posting smut.

For smut or angst fics that could include triggers, please include a content warning above the fic so we can be aware before reading!!

Enjoy!!