#like i get the point they're trying to make but
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─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪. (𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦) 🍊
⤷ summary: saudi arabian and australian grands prix happen! y/n starts making vlogs for the races and it reveals more about her and a certain driver's feelings than she hoped, not that she notices. poor oscar's stuck in the middle of it all but he's trying his best!
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liked by f1, landonorris, and 55,007 others
tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri
mclaren saudi arabia, you were beautiful even if the results weren't! ready for what's to come
12,567 comments
user1 admin not using a single nice photo of the drivers 😭
user2 admin be honest is this your revenge era
mclaren well, yes!
user3 HELP MEEEE
user4 the way lando looks at her 😭
user5 this is a place of business
user6 oscar looks petrified 💀
mclaren dw guys we're still training him!
oscarpiastri wtf why would u say it like that, i'm not a dog
mclaren full-time team mascot, part time driver
user7 admin drop the insta your so pretty 😭😭
user8 no literally, content of her WHERE
mclaren ynusername 🤲🏼
user9 LETS FUCKING GO
user10 HER DISSING HER OWN TEAM 💀 THEY'RE GONNA FIRE YOU GIRL
mclaren they don't pay me to LIE
user11 CRAZYY
user12 LANDO IS NEVER GETTING A GOOD PIC EVER AGAIN 😭
mclaren what can i say, i am no mans peace 🥱
user13 icon
landonorris reporting you to hr
mclaren for what
landonorris idk harrassment or something
mclaren ok keyboard warrior, lets calm down 💀
user14 KEYBOARD WARRIOR HELEPSJSM
user15 i vote admin just takes over and we don't even get driver pictures
user16 real and true
user17 i fear we may have lost the plot
user18 thoughts on today's results
mclaren i'm trying to be positive in general but man
user19 LMAOOOOO
user20 ik the pr department is shaking in their boots after every post notif
mclaren probably! but unfortunately for everyone, i am going to keep doing whatever i want
user21 no more lando beef, mclaren admin?
mclaren i forget but i never forgive. i forgot why we were fighting but i stay hating bitches 🥱
landonorris literally WHAT DID I DO
mclaren IDK BUT IK U PISSED ME OFF 🫵
oscarpiastri diabolical photo choice
oscarpiastri i look like a little kid on picture day
mclaren so basically your everyday look
oscarpiastri yk what you are making this work environment very hostile
mclaren i can make it more hostile if you want 🤨
oscarpiastri nevermind!!!
maxfewtrell most flattering lando picture i've seen in years
mclaren that's saying something isn't it 🤩
user22 i went to haterville and they all knew you admin
mclaren they actually just elected me mayor there!!! 💪🏻
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liked by bsfusername, landonorris, and 17,800 others
ynusername if my admin duties don't kill me, i promise my caffeine addiction will! (:
3,422 comments
user23 be honest, how many coffees have you had today
ynusername 3!
user24 oh that's not that bad
ynusername +5
user24 JESUS CHRSUT
bsfusername at this point i think meth would be healthier
ynusername honestly yeah
ynusername thanks for the suggestion!!
user25 nooo admin don't do meth ur so sexy aha
ynusername that just made me want to do meth more
landonorris so what i'm hearing is buying you an espresso machine would get me in your good graces 😇
user26 oh brother here he goes
ynusername you must be deaf then
landonorris 😔 2 espresso machines?
ynusername i don't want ur dirty espresso machines 🙄
oscarpiastri now what car is that 🫵
ynusername SHHHHH
oscarpiastri TRAITOR
bsf2username when your not busy being super sexy on a race track, can we go thrifting and get sweetgreen and overpriced coffee 🙏🏼🙏🏼
ynusername this could've been an email, get this out of my comments 💀
ynusername but yeah obviously
user27 admin vlogs when 😔
ynusername SOON!!! very very soon
user28 mother feeding us once again
ynusername brb, adding single mom who works two jobs, loves her kids, and never stops to my resume
danielricciardo coffee recipe where?
ynusername in your dms now ‼️
danielricciardo is this flirting
ynusername no if i was flirting i would've told you to ask me in person, i'm just being charitable
landonorris can i get the coffee recipe too then 🤲🏼
ynusername wdy want next, my mugs? keep on walking charity case
user29 CHARITY CASE IS CRAZYDFHAJ
user30 she's so effortlessly funny and mean i love her
user31 i feel like this is so unprofessional /:
ynusername babe professional where, you are on??? my personal?? account???
user32 maybe she's born with it, maybe it's the fact that she's consumed enough caffeine to tranquelize a horse
user33 oh please the horse would be dead
ynusername call an ambulance, BUT NOT FOR ME ‼️💪🏻🗣️
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ynusername posted to story!
(caption: melbourne vlog out now on youtube, go watch!!)
15,221 replies
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"This thing better be working," could be heard slightly muffled in between vague shuffling sounds. After a second or two of incoherent noise, the camera footage finally came on. Y/N smiled at herself in the camera as the recording light blinked to life, and raised her hand victoriously. She grabbed the smile microphone in front of her and laughed, "It looks like everything is working. Thank God, I wouldn't have known how to fix it otherwise."
"Alright everybody, welcome to the first race weekend vlog hosted by me! Your favorite McLaren admin and social manager. It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to go about this, but now I think I settled on a format that will work," She explained as she walked around the small, clean kitchen that was within frame of the camera. She pulled a glass jar out of her cabinets and left it on the counter before pulling a jug of cold brew and a cartridge of milk out of her fridge.
"It is currently 7:30 A.M on March 29th, and I have a flight to Melbourne in 3 hours. I'm already packed and ready for this weekend, but I wanted to get an introduction filmed and I wanted to take a shower before I left." Y/N paused for a moment as she poured the coffee into her mason jar until she seemed satisfied and began to add some milk. "I am totally exhausted so this is probably cup one of like," she laughed, "I don't know seven probably. And this is a pretty big jar I won't lie."
"The race weekend doesn't technically start until Friday, so I'll be getting there a bit early, but I wanted to film some content before the race weekend gets really hectic, so McLaren is sending me a little bit earlier. I'm excited though! I love the heat, even if I live in London the antithesis of Australian weather," she taste-tested her coffee and hummed in delight.
"God I really never miss with this stuff," she said contently. "Anyway, it's a bit of an early start today, but I'll have plenty of time to sleep on the fight. I mean can you believe that London to Melbourne is a nearly 22 hours," she scoffed. "I vote that we start making all of the races in one place so I don't have to feel jet lag more painful than the force of 1,000 suns every other weekend. Not that I'm complaining," she chuckled awkwardly, "I love my job McLaren please don't fire me."
Abruptly an orange tabby cat came into the frame of the camera, causing Y/N to abruptly grab her glass jar in the hopes of avoiding a mess. She gasped, but laughed as the cat scampered off as quickly as it had come. She shook her head fondly.
"That, ladies and gentleman, was Cali! My cat. She's literally my baby, and I love her more than anything else on this earth. However, she does have an affinity for hitting things off of counters and breaking them. She also hates men and nearly all other animals, so she's basically the world's biggest hazard to society. She's a good girl, I love her." Y/N explained between sips of coffee as she stared wistfully past the the frame of the camera, where it could be assumed Cali had gone.
Abruptly an alarm went off and Y/N threw her head back with a groan.
"That means I have to get in the shower and get ready so I can leave on time," she said, before taking a few more sips of coffee. "I'm going to go do that, and the next time you'll hear my beautiful voice will be at the Melbourne Airport! Cue the travel montage!"
An assortment of clips follow. Y/N is seen dragging her luggage through Heathrow Airport. Y/N is seen ordering another coffee at the airport, finishing the coffee, and ordering another before her flight. Y/N is seen responding to emails from her airplane seat, editing video footage, and responding to instragram and twitter comments. Footage is shown outside the plane window of a cloudy, blue sky and a time lapse is shown as the sky grows beautiful shades of pink and red before becoming a starry-night sky. Y/N is seen cozy in a throw blanket and a travel pillow, presumably asleep with headphones on. Y/N is shown pulling her luggage through the airport once again, with a brand new coffee cup in hand. She smiles, taking a sip before she is seen settled down in a seat in the bustling airport.
"Twenty-two or so hours later and I have finally landed in Melbourne. I'm waiting for my Uber to get here so I can finally be taken to my hotel to drop my stuff off. I have a meeting with the McLaren drivers in two hours, but luckily I slept really well on the plane. I don't know how else I would be able to deal with Lando Norris. I'm going to finish this coffee in order to maximize my tolerance for the next few hours, but I suspect I'll be getting a new coffee before I reach that meeting. My addiction truly knows no bounds," she laughs, trying to ignore the people vaguely shown within frame that are staring at her speaking to a camera.
The camera cuts abruptly and the waiting screen from SpongeBob flashes on the screen, including the narrator's voice reading "2 hours later."
Y/N is shown once again in new clothes, a new coffee cup in hand, and luggage replaced by a small canvas bag. Her comfortable plane clothes have been swapped out for jean shorts and a plain white tank-top. Her hair is clipped back out of her face, and she is adorned with simple gold jewelry and light makeup.
Y/N smiles at the camera as she walks, bustling and talking heard around her, before whispering into the small microphone, "I have arrived at the McLaren garage. It is now time to meet with Lord Lando and workplace mascot Oscar Piastri," the titles slip off her tongue sarcastically and she doesn't bother suppressing an eye-roll.
In the next clip, Oscar and Lando are seen seated on either side of her as they sit in what seems like a board-room. Lando leans over and whispers something that the camera doesn't pick up and Oscar laughs while Y/N grimaces and reaches forward to readjust the camera. When the camera comes back on, Lando and Oscar are seated together on the left of Y/N as she faces on angle toward both them and the camera.
"Don't just sit there and look pretty, say hello to the camera boys," Y/N says and Oscar cackles at the disgruntled look on Lando's face.
"Is that your way of calling me pretty Y/N," Lando chokes out between laughs, and Y/N scoffs with an eye-roll.
"I was actually talking about Oscar, but whatever floats your little papaya boat Norris," Y/N deadpans and Oscar doubles over from the force of his laughter at the pout on Lando's face.
"That's not nice at all, I hope you know that. I think I am sitting here very prettily, thank you very much," Lando says, leaning into the girl next to him to speak into her microphone.
Y/N draws the microphone back, swatting him away, "Yes, yes quite prettily," Y/N mocks in a British accent.
Oscar, still trying to recover, joins in, "Pretty little Lando Norris," and Y/N laughs jovially, reaching across Lando as if the boy weren't there to high-five the Austrialian driver.
"Bullies, the lot of you," Lando mumbles and Y/N brushes off his comment without response before finally facing the camera.
"Anyway, welcome to the first McLaren race weekend vlog. I'm Y/N L/N, the best media manager in the whole god damn world, and this is Lando Norris, the biggest pain in my ass, and Oscar Piastri, the second biggest pain in my ass. How are you feeling about Melbourne boys?" Y/N questions, transitioning smoothly much to the British driver's chagrin.
"Feeling proud to be the second biggest pain in the ass and not the first. Probably the only time i've been glad to get second actually," Oscar comments and Y/N laughs as Lando shakes his head in disappointment.
"But in all seriousness it is good to be home, this is easily my favorite race of the year seeing as it's my home race and i'm looking forward to, hopefully, good results from our team," Oscar supplies and Y/N nods along to his words.
"Yes, Australia, we are in you and we are happy about it," both boys choked out a laugh at the manager's sexual innuendo and Oscar quickly covered his mouth with his hand so as not to react too much. "What about you Lando what are you feeling," Y/N questioned, leaning the small microphone to the boy.
"Feeling like that was a stupid joke. And also like I am going to be getting P1 this weekend. I can feel it in my bones."
"Leave my jokes alone Lando, you're not being paid to be a critic," she scoffed, "and if I recall, you said the same thing in Saudi Arabia not that long ago. What's changed now?"
Lando rolled his eyes, "What's changed is that we're in Australia now and I'm feeling much more confident."
"Well thank god for that," Y/N supplied unhelpfully as Oscar laughed.
"Now, what we really came here for, it's time to film a video for this channel, it's going to be a fan Q and A, I picked the questions. By the time this vlog is up, the QnA should've already been posted. So feel free to stop watching this and to go watch that or whatever," Y/N commented. "After that we're going to film a TikTok challenge," both and Lando and Oscar grimaced, but Y/N ignored their dismay at the idea of fiming yet another TikTok, so cue the montage! Filming time!" Y/N exclaimed and the screen transitioned to a new series of clips.
In the first clip Oscar and Lando were sitting in two chairs while Y/N sat across from them with a set of notecards.
"Lando, this question from user "ln4mania" asks, "Are you and admin actually friends? Or is the online beef real? The people demand answers!" Y/N reads off with a laugh.
"Do you hear that, the people demand answers Lando! Don't keep them waiting!" Oscar and Y/N laugh as Lando shakes his head and tucks his face into his hands.
"There is no beef, guys. Me and admin, or rather me and Y/N are just fine. We hadn't even actually met when that happened," Lando supplied between laughs. Y/N looked at the camera and rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, faux-disagreeing with the boy.
She ignored the simmering pit of disappointment in her stomach. She did in fact have a problem with entitled little Lando Norris who still gave her side-eyed looks and judgmental stares whenever he saw her. If that wasn't humiliating enough, Oscar had clearly noticed it too, which just gave Y/N the feeling that she wasn't being taken seriously at all now that Oscar understood Lando's lack of respect for Y/N. However that didn't matter in the current moment. All that mattered was making this video.
The next clip showed Lando and Oscar sitting at a table with bowls of water in front of them and towels strewn across a chair just within frame of the camera. Y/N stood behind them, hands rested in their hair as she reacted to the prompts being read by someone, an unnamed media intern, off-camera.
"Who is harder to make videos with?" The intern asked and Y/N huffed out a laugh as she let her hands fully grasp Lando's curls and push him into the water quickly. He sputtered, trying to blink the water out of his eyes as Y/N laughed at the wet-puppy dog look he was sporting.
Y/N tried to shake the ridiculous desire to let her hands run through the soft curls underneath her finger tips. Curse Lando and whatever stupidly good, rich-person hair routine he used that made him smell good and look good, and... whatever.
Lando, blinking water out of his eyes, was now undoubtedly certain that being damn-near waterboarded was worth it if it meant that Y/N would laugh like that again. He knew Oscar would harass him again later for being "down-bad" or something along those lines- as he had done every time he caught the man staring-, but as he caught a glimpse of Y/N's bright smile and shaking shoulders, he found he didn't really care.
The next clip showed Oscar, Lando, Y/N, and a laughing media intern as they all dried off- somehow all having become wet through the course of filming. Y/N dried herself off quickly, taking a sip of her newly refilled coffee, not seeing the way that only the camera and Oscar saw Lando stared at her until the driver was nudged back into focus on drying himself off.
A title-card once again came on the screen with white words on a photo collage of Australian grand-prix candids that Y/N had taken, reading "Race montage? More likely than you'd think."
Footage was shown of the free practice sessions. Oscar and Lando getting in and out of their cars. Engineers along the pit wall going over data. The team speaking incoherently, going over the game plan for Sunday's race. Oscar and Lando greeting fans, signing merch, and posing for photos. Y/N smiling and waving at a cheering crowd of people before staring at the camera incredulously with a small caption reading: "Omg she's famous your honor". More clips showed Lando laughing as Oscar tossed grapes and Lando moved to catch them with his mouth. Lando nearly choking as Y/N cackled in the background. Multiple clips showing Y/N with a fresh coffee, and another... and another, as Oscar's face in the background grew with concern. Zak Brown explaining to Y/N the dangers of caffeine overdose, and the need for moderation. Y/N explaining to Zak Brown that without coffee she would simply collapse and die, which the camera showed did nothing to ease her concern. Y/N getting caps signed by the drivers for fans and walking away with intricate friendship bracelets decorating her wrists.
And finally footage of the race. The engineers in the garage. The pit-crew changing tires. The cars racing past as Y/N watched attentively. Footage of the crowd as they cheered when the cars whizzed past. Smiling faces of fans. Y/N's cheers as Oscar and Lando passed. The smiling faces of McLaren employees as Lando and Oscar crossed the checkered flag in P6 and P8 respectively.
Y/N accepting hugs from both drivers, ignoring the burning sensation in her stomach as Lando wrapped his arms around her with a smile and a laugh. Y/N calling Lando smelly and telling him to go wash off if he wants to hug her next time, and him rolling his eyes at her fondly before making a face at the camera. The podium celebration is shown and Y/N smiles as the anthem plays, even though it's not for her own team.
The final clip is shown of Y/N in her hotel room, comfortable in sweats as she sits on the unmade bed.
"Not bad results this week guys! P6 for Lando and P8 for Oscar, which are good points for the team. I'm happy on my end, I think we got some good content filmed, and I am now ready to go to sleep so I can get home to Cali and my own bed quicker. I hope you enjoyed this video, and if you didn't don't tell me because I don't care!" Y/N jokes with a smile.
"Hopefully I will see you all at the next race, if not the race after that! Bye papaya fans, and be sure to follow us on instagram and all of the other social platforms!" Y/N exclaimed, gesturing to the list of the social media handles that appeared on her right hand side.
And with that, the camera cut to black.
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 29,145 others
ynusername afraid to report that i fought jetlag and lost 😔 i did sleep for 25 hours straight after melbourne and i had no clue where i was when i woke up! shout out cali for waking me up 🙏🏼 best friend frl
9,547 comments
bsfusername i'm going to try not to be offended by that caption (love you bb cali) but FUCK YOU CAUSE I BOUGHT YOUR ASS BREAKFAST
ynusername my bad! s/o to that bomb ass omlette 🤩
bsfusername never doing shit for you again
user34 that vlog was god tier, how long did that take
ynusername it took 7 hours of editing and years off my life, thanks so much for asking 🥳
maxverstappen1 thanks again for those podium photos! you have a gift for photography 💪🏻
ynusername don't mention it! 👍🏼
ynusername (no seriously, mclaren might behead me)
mclaren beheading is so last year. firing squad. 🗣️
user35 not y/n threatening herself 💀
oscarpiastri suprised your body didn't naturally wake up for coffee
ynusername it did! just 25 hours later
user36 your poor cat was literally starving for a whole day? youre a horrible owner
ynusername let me introduce you to god's greatest creation: the automatic feeder!!! i'm sure they can mail one to whatever fucking rock you live under!
user37 PERIODDDD
user38 me personally? i'd never log on again
user39 she needs a personal channel 🙏🏼🙏🏼 i'd subscribe
user40 her cat is so cute 😭😭😭 gimme that
ynusername 🫵 STAY BACK HEATHEN, NO ONE TOUCHES CALI AND LIVES
user40 my bad fam 🧍🏻♀️
user41 i want someone to love me as much as she loves that mean ass cat
landonorris don't you have a job to be doing 💀💀 she slept through a full work day
user42 lando always on her ass and for whattttt
user43 obsessed obsessed obsessed
ynusername i had the day off! but not the guy who was streaming video games coming for me 🥱 talking bout get a job
user44 lando and y/n beefing on insta again? we're so back
user45 at this point instagram comment beef isn't enough, they need to duel or some shit
user46 the caffeine addiction almost got her guys
ynusername i wish it would, then i wouldn't have to work with lando's annoying ass
landonorris I CAN SEE YOUR COMMENTS???
ynusername THAT'S THE POINT
user47 honestly just give her a gun atp, these men test her too damn much
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user48 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S RIGHT HERE
user49 no fr, like let's get back to bed grandma
user50 OP, are you concussed?
user51 no actually cause didn't y/n just say she wanted to khs working with him 💀💀
pastryboy81 that sign can't stop me, because i can't read!
user53 OK I ACTUALLY SEE THE VISION
user54 ARE YOUR EYES CLOSED???!1!1
user55 i fear i totally get it 😔
user56 it's giving enemies to lovers, secret relationship type vibe lowkkkk
user57 no deadass like he hugged her reallll tight
user58 she also hugged oscar 😭😭?? and he has a whole gf
user59 the way she shoved him off and told him he reeked not 5 seconds after 💀 delusion is a disease yall
user60 someone call the f1 gossip pages cause 😗
user61 more like someone call the ward cause somethings real off with yall 🤨
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sorry that this update took forever, i had surgery and recovery has been rougher than i expected! hope you enjoy!!
please leave your thoughts in the comments and feel free to drop a request for your fav in my asks <3
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@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666
#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1#f1#f1 smut#f1 x you#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 smau#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris imagine#racew1nn3rs#racew1nn3rs: fake it till you make it
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When they're fighting, Louis and Armand know exactly where to hurt each other the most. They can jab at each other about multiple painful memories the other carries, that's fine, but there's one thing that crumples each of them and they both use it here. For Armand, you can see it when he looks genuinely hurt and cuts off the moment Louis says "dull nights, dull months, dull decades" (aka their entire relationship never stood a chance when compared to what Louis and Lestat had), that his entire being is nothing (he's the void, after all), which then moves to a murderous expression when Louis says that a 20 year-old human can provide more entertainment than he ever could, which then moves to barely holding back tears when Louis asks, "Is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight?"
For Louis, though, it's Claudia. And it will always be Claudia. Louis could hold his own right up until the moment Armand masterfully threw out the "and you threw out her name just for cover but it always circled back to him", and, "but she didn't love you, not like I do!" (the latter being classic abuser language), and it's enough to make Louis spiral into a psychotic episode that leads him to try and commit suicide. Louis knows Armand's largest weak points, but Armand can still recover. Louis, however, cannot. Because while Armand's greatest insecurity is himself, he's never loved and failed another like Louis did, because he, as someone long since detached from humanity, supposedly can no longer make that type of connection with anyone.
And while Louis is blindly running towards "Claudia's voice", Armand pauses, looking deeply ashamed of using that against him, but still pauses all the same. One has to wonder, was the pause out of shock at being that cruel, or was it from needing a moment to nurse those lingering feelings of anger from the things Louis said to him? Or, was it because he knew by waiting, Louis would get injured, and would have no choice but to depend on him again?
#for the last question i personally think it's all three of those reasons#like i don't think armand ever planned to get louis hurt#but by him being bedridden. it sure makes him a lot easier to control doesn't it?#iwtv spoilers#iwtv#iwtv season 2 spoilers#loumand#louis de pointe du lac#armand#iwtv meta#vampterview#interview with the vampire#when armand calls daniel 'an eager black hole' when he can't think of any early memory apart from being kidnapped by slavers...projection
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there are a lot of headcanons about tommy becoming resentful of the time buck spends with eddie, but give me the reverse. give me eddie resentful of the time buck spends with tommy.
eddie's alone and sad with chris gone. both buck and tommy, together and individually, try to do things with him and be there for him but sometimes they actually do want to be alone together, and eddie just...can't seem to stop getting in the way. he invites himself along to stuff. he asks if he can come hang out when they're having a night at home together. he takes up their free evenings with obsessively making plans so he can avoid being alone in his house and they're just starting to get worn down.
eventually buck has to sit him down and say, eddie, my man, my dude, you're family to me, i care about you so much, so does tommy, but for the love of all that's holy please understand that sometimes i need to be alone with my boyfriend.
and eddie is embarrassed that he's been so clingy but also low-key hates that they have this relationship with each other that doesn't include him. he's happy that buck's found the love he always yearned for and deserved, but he can't stop feeling hurt and left out and there's just no way to make it better.
so what does he do? does he stay resentful and let it fester until it becomes anger and it ruins his friendship with buck?
maybe at one point he would have done that. but this time...this time he recognizes the path he's on and decides to take action to not let that happen. buck is too important to him. he has to find a way to occupy himself without relying soley on buck.
so he joins a boxing gym that nobody else goes to and starts working out there. he makes a friend who's also dealing with loneliness.
he starts volunteering on off-shift mornings at a botanical garden and finds that digging in the dirt and getting sweaty and dirty is very therapeutic. after a few weeks, some of the other volunteers invite him to come to brunch after their shift.
he discovers the LAFD Discord and that it has a whole bunch of sub-groups where first responders from all over the city get together for activities. he joins the golf group. he joins the cooking group. he goes on an axe-throwing outing.
he makes other friends.
there are no other friends like Buck. there will never be another friend like Buck. but there are people he can spend time with now, and give Buck a break so he can spend time with Tommy and also just have time to himself.
buck still brings dinner over once a week. he takes eddie on hikes. he and tommy fly him to san diego for the day and they go to the beach. but eddie also goes golfing with the LAFD Discord club. He goes to Station 133, which has the nicest kitchen in the LAFD, for the cooking club and learns some new recipes.
He has brunch with Chim and Maddie. He and Hen take Mara and Denny to mini-golf. He helps Bobby do DIY work on their new home to bring the kitchen up to his standards.
He learns to live without Chris. He learns to have support that doesn't entirely revolve around Buck. He watches Buck and Tommy get more and more serious, but now he's not resentful or scared - he's only happy, to see his best friend so happy. When they move in together, the three of them spend the first night Buck lives with Tommy eating pizza, drinking beer and watching baseball on TV.
And the first time Buck and Tommy ask him to come on a hike with them, and he has to decline because he has other plans, he's relieved, because they still want him around. They still want to be his friend. He hasn't worn them down.
He will always need Buck, he will alway love him. But he knew it wasn't fair to make Buck his entire support system...so he built a bigger one, and it's big enough to support them all.
When Chris facetimes him, he notices that his dad is looking less despondent. he has things to talk about, like the botanical garden and Bobby and Athena's new house and the firepit he's helping Buck build in Tommy's backyard. He's more open and honest. He doesn't sound so desperate. So Chris says he wants to come home, and when he does, Eddie's just happy he's back. Not desperate, not resentful or angry. And he has these new friends.
One of those new friends is another volunteer at the botanical gardens. she's a trauma nurse and does gardening to help her cope. eddie suggests she might like to try boxing as exercise, and she loves it. she is invited to a firefam BBQ at Buck and Tommy's house, and chris can't help but notice that she looks at his dad like he's really something -- and he's looking back the same way.
and if Chris had been worried that his time away would have hurt his dad, or made him sadder -- which he definitely didn't worry about, totally didn't, never at all -- he's not worried about that anymore.
#i made myself emotional about eddie#eddie diaz#bucktommy#platonic buddie#buddie friendship#9-1-1 spec#9-1-1 spoilers#evan buckley#tommy kinard#tevan#kinley
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the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.
the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)
both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!
and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.
that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".
and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.
this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.
a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.
it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.
there's several things to note here:
thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder
eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble
they're not actually eating anything.
those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.
it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.
but even that last happened a long, long time ago.
this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.
paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.
he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.
isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.
thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.
when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.
i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.
therefore replacing eodio with a creepy doll and casually forgetting it isn't real.
thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.
yet still...
he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.
this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.
all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#thistle#delgal#yaad#eodio#winged lion#meta#long post#aphelion.txt#dunmeshi#sorry. i am so incredibly not normal about any of it
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BLADE D!CK PROFILE ft. headcannons
♡ WOOP! Another one! BLADE! was also requested! I'll definitely be making a masterlist soon! But onwards to the post. So yk those comments that pop out hex codes about character's cock? Yeah, well, I'm going to do that too, but its 'Bladie'!
♡ BASICS
girth: #c7a7a5
body: #e3d0cf
tip:#d9a9a7
size: 7inch
texture: veiny but they're pale and un-feelable, slight curve
thickness: 2.5inch
foreskin: yes
BLADE! is probably one of the palest of the HSR cast, so his dick is a more fair and brownish/greyish, with a slight curve. I mean look at him! He's a bit of an emo...(ily Blade, dw)
BLADE! 's veins are pale in colour but you can see them, but they don't stick up enough to actually feel them. It's probably because he's so pale. Overall, a very sophisticated and no-nonsense kind of sculpt!
BLADE! is nochalant on the outside, simply shrugging if you tease him. But he's almost OBSSESSIVE, though he doesn't let it show. If you're his, you're his! He can't bear to watch you be stared at by others, and GOD does it show in bed too...
BLADE! Expanding from that, he's actually super clingy! He'll make sure you're safe when travelling and will anxiously stare at his phone deciding if he should call you or not. He's just embarrassed to show it to you, but you know what he's thinking.
BLADE! definitely fucks you where he can see your face. He needs to SEE how you moan his name, how your lips part to say it, how your eyes roll back without shame. He likes to see his victory, watching as you as you break.
BLADE! Therefore, he would usually fuck you missionary, but on days he gets really pent up, would bend you over facing the mirror so you can see his face and yours. Of course, so he can see you pressed against the bed as he fucks into you.
BLADE! may get annoyed really easily as other guys try and hit on you, but on the inside he's actually really shy about it. He may lean down to kiss you or unfolding his arms to shuffle you by your waist so you're sitting closer to him. He seems calm when he does it, but on the inside, he's ran through the course-of-action 10,000 times as not to mess up. He wants those guys to know you're his (but is also shy so he test-runs the scenario in his head too many times so he doesn't mess up).
BLADE! Expanding from the previous point, he ends up thinking of you so much, staring at you so much, feeling you and pulling you closer so much that he gets UNBELIEVEABLY horny. By accident. Though, he'll never admit it outloud whenever you notice it through his blush and constant tugging at your clothes to 'go somewhere private'.
BLADE! is barely vocal, but his breath just comes out in pants, groans and gasps but boy, when he does say something, its the biggest turn on. He's either praising you, calling you his, or dissing every person that was getting too comfortable and creepy with you that day. If he's doing you in front of a mirror, he'll lift your head up either by your hair or your jaw so you look at yourself and him fucking you from behind clearly in the mirror. "Haah — ah, that's it. Keep looking. Don't look away. You're mine, you hear?"
BLADE! is extremely sweet afterwards. He'll pull you into his chest and lay you comfortably there, telling you how good you looked and did. And he's got a very bountiful chest, trust (his in-game model literally has his man-tits jiggling).
BLADE! ...how do I describe balls. I'm being so serious, someone help...
Feel free to ask for other characters!
♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!
#lychee<3#lychee's sillies#hsr#hsr smut#honkai star rail#hsr headcanons#hsr x reader#smut#hsr blade#blade#blade x reader#blade x you#headcanon
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Emily Prentiss x reader with the song “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”.
They’re dating and an unsub takes reader (reader can be part of the BAU or not) and it’s like a switch goes off in Emily’s brain and she doesn’t hesitate to do anything to get reader back. When Emily gets reader back they see that side of Emily for the first time and is scared of her because they’ve never seen Emily like that. Bonus if unsub makes reader see what Emily does to get them back to try to make reader hate Emily.
who's afraid of little old me?
[emily prentiss x reader]
summary: Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple.
She should've seen it coming.
pairing: emily prentiss x f!bau!reader
w.c: 2.9K
warnings/content: case-related violence: blood, gun, gunshot wounds, fainting; flinching; a hint towards police brutality (implied); mentions of psychopathy (implied); language; discussion about committing murder to someone; crying; insomnia; protective emily; angst; fluff.
A/N: hello anon, here's your request. sorry for the delay, I hope you like it :)
[part of “the taylor swift anthology”]
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
[requested]
[press play]
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❝ if you wanted me dead
you should've just said. ❞
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Emily.
. . .
Emily!
She woke up with a start. Hyperventilating and shortness of breath, her chest was tight like someone was pressing their hands on it. She couldn't breathe. Not until your hands were touching and comforting her in a way only you knew how to do.
Then, and only then, would she inhale and feel the air entering her lungs.
But two days ago, it wasn't like that. Two days ago, she didn't have you by her side in bed, whispering her name and making her feel safe, which was what she should be doing to you. You were the one who had been kidnapped and held hostage for a week.
Two days ago, Emily almost lost you.
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[Two days ago]
Smoke came out of the car, blurring her vision as she tried to approach the vehicle.
She had taken off her earpiece a while ago, bothered by her team's voice blaring through her ear begging for her to not move forward without backup.
Right. As if that was such an easy task for her to do. Absolutely not. You had been taken a week ago by a woman they've been chasing for two weeks. A witness. She had been right under your noses the whole time and from the moment you walked into her house to get her statement, you'd become prey to her sick games.
I should've seen it coming.
It's what echoed through Emily's brain non-stop.
I should've seen it coming.
When you're on the job, you bottle up your feelings as much as you can in order to focus on cracking the case and saving lives.
Hotch was stern and had that tough exterior that made people think twice before uttering a word, in fear of saying something wrong. He was an unexceptional Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and an even greater friend to Emily. He taught her everything she knows about how to be a good leader and taking that spot that once belonged to him for years was a tough choice. Emily didn't know how she would ever measure up to Aaron Hotchner, but she did know how to lead given her experience in London and that was a start.
Something he had told her once, about letting people in, because they were too much alike on that point.
“When those people say they care, it's usually because they do. When you're on the field, you're coworkers, they're your team. But off the field... you're allowed to let go. They're your friends, Emily. We all are.”
Hotch was trying to tell her not to compartmentalize everything. He was advising her to trust her team, her friends, because she deserved it and she wasn't all alone anymore.
She believed that.
She believed she wasn't all alone anymore the moment you walked into her life with a smile and a plate filled with delicious chocolate chip cookies made by you. That was your first day of work, the first day she saw you, the first time she heard your voice, and the first moment she believed in love at first sight.
Emily would let go when she was with you. She would be vulnerable for the first time in decades. She trusted you with her entire being.
The issue with people that bottle up their feelings, is that they're a ticking time bomb. They hold on for as much as they can, maintaining that harsh exterior and unlimited control, until that control is lost and the fire is set. It explodes. No warning. No previous announcements. It just happens.
Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple.
I should've seen it coming.
“Megan, let her go.”
Your eyes were locked to Emily's unwavering figure, you sought her eyes but she didn't meet yours, not even for a second.
Your hair was matted with blood and dirt. The blood belonged to you, you've lost count of the fights you had pulled to get out of the hell you were put in. You were most definitely concussed as well, though the headache was barely a pang in the back of your head. Adrenaline was responsible for keeping you standing until now. Once it wears out, you're certain you will collapse in exhaustion and dehydration.
“Why?” The woman whispered in your ear, causing shivers to went down your spine. Her cheek was rubbing against yours. She was asking you why she should let you go.
You know one wrong move can send a bullet straight to your brain and you didn't feel like dying tonight. Especially not in front of Emily.
You admired her professionalism on the field. She'd never deviate or hesitate, always certain about her next move. You were proud of her. Of who she became. Proud of how she let you in in her life.
Emily rarely got mad. She would lean towards annoyance and pout when something didn't work out the way she wanted. She would be the one to calm you down when you were mad, actually.
Now, holding a gun with her gaze set on Megan Gilbert, there was profound anger and determination set in her eyes.
She wouldn't look at you.
"Did you see the damage she did to my partner?" She tightened her hold on your tied hands, pulling at them causing you to wince. "Agent Prentiss, are you playing a hero or an assassin today?"
"Stop it," you hissed. You knew what she was doing and you weren't so sure Emily would hold herself back much longer.
"I think your team will call it overkill, won't they?" Megan didn't even show any sadness over the death of her brother. She wasn't capable of showing emotion. "So many bullet holes in Adrian's head... Tsc tsc tsc. Are you gonna tell them it was self-defense? That's what you all do, isn't that right?"
"Shut up!" You attempt to hit her head with the back of yours, but you barely graze it before she pulls you forward, throwing you on the floor as you groan in pain because of having landed in your right arm in an awkward position because of your tied hands.
"There it is, you have her," Megan drawled out. You have trouble turning over with both your feet and wrists tied up, but you did it. Emily is still pointing her gun at her, her ponytail slightly undone, you see sweat traveling down the side of her face, but she's unmoving, certain. "Now what, Agent Prentiss?"
She looked at you for a glimpse of a second as you fell, taking a step in front of you to make sure Megan wouldn't try anything. She wouldn't, not with her there.
"Emily." You croaked out, voice rough, begging.
The room was filled with a daunting silence. The outcome could only go two ways: Megan Gilbert successfully arrested or with a bullet wound to her head. Judging by Emily's current demeanor, you were leaning towards the latter option. You didn't want that. Not because you cared any bit for Megan, but for how that would affect Emily if she pulled that trigger.
"Em." You called her name again, trying to free yourself from your restraints. Megan had clearly lost her momentary infatuation with you after noticing Emily's reaction at seeing you hurt and she was successfully using that in her favor. Emily was her target now. Not you. Which was why she didn't let go of her gun.
Damn it, Emily. Look at me, don't do it. Don't do it.
"You have her," Megan repeated, tilting her head with her gun wavering around the room with a laugh. "But you don't really have her, do you? Not now, not anymore." Your breath was shallow and you didn't know how much more you were able to keep yourself awake. The adrenaline was starting to wear out. "Because what I did... it will haunt her forever. I left beautiful marks on her body so that she could look in the mirror and see them- see the art I've made. Which, honestly, was a favor. She wasn't that salvageable before-Fuck!"
You flinch back as the loud sound of the gunfire echoed throughout the room.
“Don't you ever, and I mean, ever—” Emily said through gritted teeth, pausing in between each word. “... talk about her again.”
You looked away as she sunk her shoe into the bullet wound on Megan's leg. A maniac laugh escaped from the woman's mouth.
“Oh, that's nice. Have I hit a nerve?”
“Emily.” You leaned back with difficulty, coldness crawling up on you. You could barely feel your legs anymore. You could barely feel anything.
Something seemed to click in Emily's mind, bringing her back to you. When she turned around, her heart sank and she felt herself immediately running towards you, calling out your name so you would give her some sort of response. Anything. Your eyes were shut, your clothes ripped and dirty, a nasty cut on your lip.
“Hey, I'm here.” Emily brushed your messy strands away from your face, her eyes analysing the number of injuries you had. Megan was still provoking her by the time the team came in through the door, groaning as they pulled her up forcefully. You looked away at her bleeding leg, earning a sound of mocking pity from her.
"You feel sorry for me, pretty thing?"
Emily turned back to glance at someone and spoke with an icy tone that made you inch away a little bit. You weren't scared of her, never. But anything caused you to flinch and god did you need to lie down and sleep, just sleep. "Get her the fuck away from here right now."
Your name was called repeatedly and you didn't understand why if you were right there. Until you understood the reason why everything was so dark and the last thing you felt was somebody holding your head before you collapsed.
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❝ the scandal was contained
the bullet had just grazed
at all costs, keep your good name
you didn't get to tell me you feel bad. ❞
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“Em.”
You asked, leaning against the wall. Arms folded across your chest. The living room carried the cold breeze from the night air, which meant that the kitchen window was open.
You know you closed it before going to bed, but the curled-up body on the couch told you who was responsible for opening the window.
“Baby,” you whispered, brushing her dark strands away from her face. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
She cracked one eye open, which made you sniffle a laugh. Then, she fluttered both of her eyes open, taking your hand that was caressing her cheek to intertwine with hers.
“I'm not sleeping.”
You raised a brow.
The corner of her lips twitched, “I can't fall asleep and I didn't want to bother you so I came down here.”
You shook your head, leaning down to kiss her forehead before standing up to close the kitchen window and then coming back.
"I told you." You perched on the edge of the sofa and she silently gave you space to come closer. You pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed next to her. Emily chuckled into your neck, wrapping her arms around your middle. "...to tell me when you couldn't sleep. I don't want you to be alone." You let out a sigh when she stayed quiet. "Em, you gotta talk to me."
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❝ is it a wonder I broke? ❞
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"I scared you."
With furrowed brows to express your confusion, you grab her hand to pull it to your chest.
"What do you mean?"
"When I found you..."
You quickly turned around to face her. "Emily-"
"You were already scared and I made it worse. It-it wasn't my intention, but the only thing I could think of was finding you to bring you to safety, which is something that I failed to do before."
"No, Emily. You didn't fail," you said softly. Your heart breaking as a tear traveled down her cheek, "that wasn't your responsibility. You had no way of knowing what she was going to do. None of us did. Em, it wasn't your fault."
She sniffled, shaking her head. "I should have known better."
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❝ then say they didn't do it to hurt me. . . but what if they did? ❞
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You cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at you. Her eyes were misty and you wanted more than anything to make her feel better. She shouldn't be crying because of you, that was the last thing you wanted.
"Listen to me," you said, thumb grazing her jaw until it reached the back of her ear. She leaned into your touch. "I'm right here, that's what matters. What happened wasn't your fault, I do not blame you, you understand that?" You kissed each of her cheeks, tasting the salty tears that were dripping down like rainfall.
You also felt the need to clarify something. "I never saw you like that," you admitted carefully. "You wouldn't listen to me and I was scared that whatever you did would affect you later. I didn't want you to do something you would regret. I wasn’t scared of you, baby."
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❝ if you wanted me dead
you should've just said.
nothing makes me feel more alive. ❞
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Emily leaned away from you and you felt as if you had been burned. She sat down, drying her tears with a shake of her head. Then, her voice echoed through the silence in the living room.
"I should have killed her. That's what keeps me up, that's what's affecting me. I should have ended there so she couldn't hurt you anymore."
"Emily." You sighed heavily, your frustration growing. You turned on your back to face the ceiling.
"She almost killed you," Emily said in disbelief. "How can you sleep when she almost-"
"But she didn't, I'm here." And who says I’m sleeping?
"But she almost did!"
"And you wanted me to live with the fact that you would have killed someone for me?" You snapped. "I wouldn't sleep soundly, I would've questioned every decision I've ever made if I had been responsible for that. You're being selfish."
Emily blinked at you, studying your face quietly before diverting her attention back to her hands on her lap. You didn't understand and as selfish as it was for her to say that, you didn't almost lose her, she almost lost you. She would have never forgiven herself if she wasn't able to find you in time or if she couldn't find you at all. Just the thought alone made her stomach churn. It would have killed her.
Emily picked at her nails, "Right."
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❝ so I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street
crash the party like a record scratch:
who's afraid of little old me?
you should be. ❞
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You stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before you glanced down at her, gaze filled with sadness. "Can you please just... hold me?"
You didn't understand. But you didn't have to. Emily would do anything to protect you at all costs. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you or letting anyone hurt you. She promised herself that she would never let that happen again. She would make sure of that.
So when you asked for a hug, you were very much aware that she needed it more than you.
Your girlfriend's demeanor shifted to something softer, warmer, something you knew and needed. Not a revenge-seeking person. You didn't want revenge, you wanted to be in Emily's arms and help her get a good night's sleep for once. You wanted her to let you do that.
"I love you." She said in your neck, rubbing a hand across your arm tenderly. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner, I'm sorry you got hurt and I didn't stop it.
"Just hold me." You curled your legs around hers, bringing her body impossibly closer to yours. "I love you too, Em." It was the last thing you said before darkness enveloped you into something calmer and lovely, instead of the awful nightmares from two nights ago. You knew that you were safe in your apartment, with Emily close to you and Sergio creeping around the living room as he noticed his moms’ presence in the living room.
It was the first night since you came back home that Emily was able to sleep without jerking awake frightened, out of breath. The first moment she didn't fear almost losing you.
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❝ I am what I am cause you trained me
so who's afraid of me?
so who's afraid of little old me?
you should be.❞
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#emily prentiss one shot#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss x reader#reader insert#criminal minds#emily prentiss#criminal minds fanfiction#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fic#the taylor swift anthology#requested
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It's ranting hours sunday for me: Y' know, I think when people complain soooo much about Padmé getting with Anakin, they're failing to see a lot of things. BUT ESPECIALLY...That it was her choice, and if speaks a lot of her character and personality.
She was already done dirty by the movies by getting so many deleted scenes, but then if you try to take away the agency she had on marrying a human disaster or her choices, like her forgiveness/understanding, it's actually undermining and flattening her character.
The fact is that she's actually very similar to Anakin, she's stubborn, deeply traumatized, compromises a lot for the sake of others and loves beyond reasoning. We, the audience, know that Anakin will become Darth Vader and one of the most iconic villains of history; so everything he does can be seem as a red flag that really isn't there.
From Padmé's POV, Anakin has done terrible things, but it's capable of incredible acts of love and compassion. They're in circumstances that aren't normal at all, she was queen at 14, and he was born a slave and joined the space wizard monks and his normal is kill or be killed. Our modern and omniscient POV can't be applied onto them because there's no point of comparison in this sci-fi-shakespearen tragedy-soap-opera-fantasy.
Besides...she was actually right in the end, and I don't believe is "feminist" or progressive to take away a big part of her core personality, that actually had repercussions in the whole story, and make her out to be either unaware and naive of marrying a monster, or (the worst one, imo) being jedi-mind-tricked-brainwashed-abused by her husband.
The "right, correct, girlboss and queen" actitude does more damage than help, leave Padmé to be a person. A person who wanted to have a fairytale romance with some guy who would fight for her and makes her laugh.
Also, the hell why you wanna blame her for something Anakin does, come on. That's a whole other can of worms, though. My point is, that trying to avoid or re-work-or re-contextualize the fact that she chose Anakin despite him literally telling her about murdering a whole village, is actually changing a big chunk of her personality traits.
She was a child queen, then a politician at the edge of an inminent war, manipulated by the same guy that groomed Anakin into a massive murderer, saw her people being taken into camps, had assasination attempts weekly and had to rip off of her individualism by becoming a public figure, giving up her sense of being a person by having several almost identical decoys, she had to stop being just Padmé to be Queen and then Senator Amidala and she did all of that showing little to no emotion.
Then Anakin does all what she herself had to rip off of her in order to be a politician: Honest, passionate, and able to show emotions; like love or anger.
She has morals and she represents democracy and justice, in a way. But I fully believe that inside her she had the same passionate anger and love capable of burning the galaxy that we know Anakin had, which makes them different sides of the same coin, and I think she realized that. Anakin perhaps didn't , as he never stopped of seeing himself as a slave and therefore inferior, whereas he held Padmé very highly, but I think Padmé saw them both as equals. She didn't have a "I can fix him" mentality, she had a "We're the same, we're both lonely, confused, hurting and scared of losing everything. And if he's like me, then I know he can do the right thing for love."
In other words: She was as insane as her husband, she only seems normal because she wasn't put into the monk warrior order and groomed by the devil for over a decade.
#padme amidala#star wars#anidala#anakin skywalker#sorry i saw a tiktok talking saying how padme is like pseudo liberal white women excusing her conservative homophobic boyfriend and#being dumb for no realizing or listening to the red flags or something like that and then ppl suggesting that she was just jedi mind tricke#and that if padme was really awesome she would've never chose anakin willingly so is better if she was forced or somethingan#and i got angry
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8✨ with virgin Eddie cos he’s the loml
'I look you in the eyes, I try to read you thoughts.
I ask you to go with me, to a far off place.'
virgin!eddie (well, not so virgin anymore)
from the 'the nerve' one shot.
(18+, references to drinking. implied stancy wedding.)
Eddie didn't really love to dance. He always felt awkward, never really getting the beat to anything that wasn't related to a guitar slung across his chest. His hips always moved too jerkily, he never knew where to put his hands. When Mrs. Mitchell from across the park tried to teach him to waltz for prom he stepped on her toes so much she needed a brace.
It didn't even matter for anything, he didn't go to prom. That's another reason he doesn't like dancing, or dances. Couples nuzzling close while they hold their partners -- what was the point when no one was gonna dance with 'The Freak' anyway?
He drums his fingers along the white cloth covered table to the beat of the DJ's thumping music, sipping his third glass of pinot noir. You had stepped out to run an errand for Nancy and Steve after the ceremony, 'maid of honor' duties you called it. Something about fashion tape and bandaids for blisters. While the music slows down he feels his heart sink, another dance where he sits alone in the low light. It comes back to him in a haze, two months before his senior prom --
He woke up early to take a shower and shave the little facial hair that had started to grow on his upper lip and chin. Painstakingly finger coiling every wave on his head with gel he knicked from the five and dime down the street. He asked Wayne if he could borrow his smart black button down and Wayne even pressed it before he left for work the night before -- hanging it up in the living room by the mugs. He wore he least ratty jeans and cleaned his Reeboks with a toothbrush and bleach. Eddie had never felt more together, more sure, and if he would say so himelf -- more handsome than he did that morning.
He cracked open his campaign notebook to the last page where he'd scrawled a script he'd been working on for at least two weeks:
Hi Chrissy
What's up, Chris?
How are you, Chrissy?
Hey Chrissy.
I know you might not be expecting this but
This might come as a surprise, but I was wond
It would be an honor if
Would you want to go to prom with me?
Prom?
It was the first time he was ever at a loss for words. Tripping over himself any time she'd ask for a pencil in Bio or walk by the drama room on her way to cheer practice.
He stopped at Melvald's for a small bouquet of daffodils -- it was all they had that morning, and made his way to school, stomach full of butterflies while he played the potential outcome in his head over and over. He knew he had to have caught her looking every now and again. Giggling at his jokes in class. Always asking him for a pencil or a ruler when she could ask anyone else.
He parks in the spot furthest from the school, using the brisk walk to calm his nerves. With a few rolls of his shoulders he pushes through the main doors to his locker, only four down from Chrissy's. She'd be there any minute, ponytail bouncing, lips glossed.
He leaned against the wall, checking his watch and each end of the hallway, a flurry of students making their way in and out. The humdrum of the morning making his heart beat faster, the slamming of metal, the sneakers on the tile.
And there she is -- a blonde beacon of something special. She's smiling -- grinning. Looking right at him. He gets up off the wall, heart racing -- This is it Munson, he thinks, you're gonna ask her.
Chrissy's smile turns into a jump, a celebration of sorts -- and from behind him, another cheerleader appears, running up and jumping with her. They hug tight, screaming the way girls do when they're excited about something.
"He literally made a sign for the whole team to hold on the field!" she titters, "I can't believe he asked me!"
"You're going to prom with Jason! Ahhh!" her friend screams back.
Going to prom with Jason.
Jason Carver? That asshole?
The hallways spins, his heart has never dropped so fast before. He'd never felt something so fast before. Dissappointment? Embarrassment? Rage? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Chrissy was going to prom with Jason Carver, and everything he planned was for nothing. Just standing there in the hall way with --
"That's a pretty bouqet, Eddie," Chrissy voice floats by, bringing him back to himself, "Whose the lucky girl?"
Coulda been you, he thinks.
His face sours, "Wouldn't you like to know."
Eddie's heart breaks again when she backs off, making her way to class when the bell rings. He chews on the inside of his cheek the whole way out of the school and back to his van -- making sure the shove the daffodils in the trash on the way out.
Right now feels the same, the only young guy sitting around while couples get up and jump around to Whitney's I Wanna Dance with Somebody when the music switches. He finishes his glass of pinot, sighing while he stands up to get another at the bar. He knows better, but something his gnawing in the pit of his chest -- that ache. He wishes you'd come back so he didn't have to keep putzing around like a lost puppy. Even Dustin had Suze out on the dancefloor.
Another ten minutes pass and he's settled back down at the table, the speakers rumbling down to a slow beat again, Luther Vandross's gentle croon floating over the room. Eddie swallows.
'Always and forever,
Each moment with you, yeah
Is just like a dream to me
That somehow came true, yeah...'
It's then that he feels a warm hand on his back, sliding up to his shoulder, nails gliding comfortingly into the back of his hair.
"Hi handsome," your voice like salve on his heart, "Did you miss me?"
He turns, entranced by the way your dress hugs you and the scent of the perfume you have on tonight. There was no denying he picked right, no denying that he was right to wait for you this long.
"Of course, sweetheart," he smiles, smiling into the kiss you lean down to give him.
"You've just been sitting here while I was gone?" you furrow your brow, "C'mon, get up. Come dance with me."
He flushes, "No, no I'm...I'm not good at it..."
"Neither am I," you shrug, offering your hand, "C'mon."
He looks at your manicured nails, the bare finger that he wants to put a ring on now more than ever, then up at you. That little smirk you give him has never sold him quicker. With a deep breath he takes your hand, letting you lead him to the dance floor.
"Y'know, I've never slow danced with anyone," you say quietly, guiding his hand to your waist while you hold the other close to his shoulder. Eddie pulls you close, nose to nose, toe to toe. He can handle the gentle sway you start him with, a slow two step, winding bodies.
"Not even your ex? Seriously?" Eddie asks, mesmirized by your glossy lips.
"He never wanted to dance at the weddings we went to," you shrug, "Always thought it was lame. But I like to dance."
"What about prom?" he asks.
"I um," you look down and back up at him, "I didn't go to prom."
"No? How come?"
"Uh," you offer a tight smile in rememberance, accepting it, "No one asked me."
Eddie stops moving, hand holding yours going to your cheek. "No one asked you?"
You shake your head, "It ended up being okay, had a movie night with some other weirdos."
He remembers his own anti-prom with the guys, pizza and beer that he got Rick to buy for him.
"But it's okay," you reassure, "Cause now I get to have my first slow dance with you."
"We're doin' a lot of firsts together, aren't we?" he teases.
"Yeah," you nod, "And this is like, y'know, kinda like prom."
"Sort of," he laughs, pulling you tighter, two stepping again to the rhythm. You give him a mischevious smile, teashing.
"Are you going to the after party? I hear they're gonna have winecoolers," you joke.
Eddie grins, boyish, "Oh yeah, yeah, I'll be there."
"Good 'cause uh," you lean to to whisper, giggling at your own bit, "They're gonna play seven minutes in heaven."
"No way," he gasps in fake astonishment, "Is there uh -- is there anyone you're hoping to land on?"
"Well um," you flick your eyes as him flirtily, "There's this one guy."
"This one guy?"
"Yeah and I was hoping like, after the dance." you continue in an exaggerated Valley Girl accent, "We could like, make out after."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, voice deepening, smoky.
"Yeah."
"Yeah, we can um," he leans in to kiss you, deep and slow, "We can definitely make out after."
#virgin!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie musnon hurt/comfort#eddie musnon angst
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So I'm watching the show yet again (usually I struggle watching shows, I don't know how I've managed to watch it twice already and still want to watch it a third time), and here are some things that I've noticed in episode 1, after the read more because it got longer than expected.
Charles calls himself the brawn and the protector of the two, but it's Edwin who goes all serious and says "I would not let that happen" when Charles asks what they'd do if Death came for them. I'm sure/concerned that he'd try to fight her if she ever came to take them...
Edwin knits!! When they are wearing their disgusses to get the demon out of Crystal he knitts while Charles reads the newspaper. Granted, you can only see him doing for a short moment, so I don't know if he's doing it properly, but I like to think he is. I have many thoughts about this, but it would take over the whole post. I'm still willing to make a whole post for it if anyone is interested but yeah. Bottom line is, Edwin can knitt!
The tone of voice that Crystal uses when she first wakes up in the Agency and in her walk with Charles is really different to the tone she uses the rest of the season. In hindsight, it's pretty obvious that is her mean girl tone, but still, I just think it's a nice detail.
Edwin takes Crystal's coffee cup when she takes the mail? We've just stablished he's not going to drink it, so is he just being petty? Is he going to throw it away or hide it just to be a nuisance? Is he investigating what she got? This boy, I swear...
I know people have pointed out all the Clue boards in the closet, but there's also a ouija board there? Hilarious. Maybe some ghosts prefer communicating with that instead of speaking? Or Charles got it because he thought it was funny and then never got rid of it?
I like that the thing that convinces Edwin to take the Becky Aspen case is Charles asking if he's going to let a little girl die. But more importantly, the title card right after that says "three flights". I've had this question for a bit, but what do they do during those flights? Do the boys spend those just standing in the hallway next to Crystal's seat? Do they sit in the cockpit? Do they hide in the bathroom until someone comes to use it? Do they hope for empty seats they can use? I don't know, every possible version of their trip is so funny to me. I know ghosts don't get tired like alive people, but the idea of them just standing awkwardly off to the side for more than 10 hours is hilarious.
No big detail here, I just love Crystal's purple coat thing she wears in this episode. Never really noticed that it has like flowers embroidered at the bottom, and the color of the whole thing is so nice.
"Maybe he's our fucking demon now." Crystal I love you, that is one of the funniest lines in the episode. I also really like that she gets to be angry and scared. Even if later Jenny talks her down from the worst it, it's not her anger that she points out, it's the fact that people are just like that and how the boys act is nothing personal. Her anger is not directly attacked (except by Edwin, but that's just him being petty), because she gets to be angry about all that's happening to her.
The flashback to Edwin's life at St. Hilarion's changes the video aspect (is that the proper term for that? It makes the screen square like in older films is what I mean.) Also he card for that flasback specifies "Edwardian England" even while having the date at the bottom. I don't know, it made me chuckle that they felt the need to clarify the era even while having the date there. They don't put "modern day England" for Crystal's flashback.
With the way the cat reacted to the sardine, I'm willing to bet he would have told Edwin everything without the binding spell if Edwin had a few more fish for him.
When they're talking behind the shop and Crystal says she gets angry, Charles looks down and takes a bit to respond. I think this is the first time he relates to her. The first time he can call that pull twards her something more than mere attraction. He has this very vulnerable look when she says it and then immediately shows her his parents and tells her something he's never told anyone before? This boy saw his anger in someone else and thought maybe it's fine for him to be angry too.
Is it a trick of the light in the scene where she meets Niko, or does Crystal have a septum piercing?
"If you're sticking around, you gotta let us in." Charles, I love you, but you are the last person who should be saying this. Specially after that sad look he gets when Crystal says it must be hard not being able to talk or hug his parents. You just agreed to what she said, as if that were the truth of why you check on them, what do you mean "you gotta let us in"? (I do get that they haven't known each other for long so he's not going to open up about all his trauma, but precisely because of that, it's wild for him to expect her to do it.)
I never noticed Charles quickly returning the mirror to normal when Edwin comes. I'd noticed the audio cue for the mirror changing back, but I never noticed Charles moving to do it and he looks so panicked about it.
Considering how Edwin is about touch, the fact that he lets Crystal take his hand when she tells the that the case matters is huge.
Why are they planning down at the shop when they have Crystal's room all to themselves? Besides the ambiance, of course. I think Jenny's reaction is completely justified.
Esther leaves her turntable on when she goes to the post office. Is it for Monty? The atmosphere? Did she just forget?
Not a new discovery, just a reminder of something I really like. There's this very specific editing thing (like the quick cuts between the instruments and then the opened lock, I don't know what to call it) that they do pretty much every time Charles picks a lock / opens a door, and it makes me very happy each time. The sound they use for it is perfection.
Edwin's attention to detail is insane. The fact that he can recall one cupboard is further forward than it was in the plans is really impressive.
Charles sounds so done when he throws the magic backpack. "Put her in the bag-of-tricks backpack." Man, I can hear the eye roll in that sentence. Good to know Edwin isn't the only bitchy one in this relationship.
And that's it for episode 1. I think I might do this for the others as well as I watch them. It was really fun to do, and it forces me to pay attention to the details, so I think it's worthwhile.
#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#crystal palace#jenny green#esther finch#niko sasaki#my writing
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Always back to you - Chp.5
Pairing: single!dad!Minho x male!Reader (Chanlix | OT8
Word Count: 6696
Summary: Just as everything seems to go well a call from the past messes with Minho's mind. His ex is set on getting her son back, ready to destroy everything you've built.
Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, date night, yejun's a bitch
A/N: Thank you for all the love so far for little Minjun and his family🤭🖤
PART FOUR | PART SIX
Minho stretches his tired body, glancing over at you in the corner of the room. You're currently taking some calls to sort out Chan's upcoming schedules, and he can't bite back a small smile while watching you. After your fight, Chan made you stay by making you responsible for his own schedule and wanting to keep you around.
They're taking a short break from practice, and Minho is glad to rest his body for a bit. He glances around the room and frowns as he can't find Minjun and his current assistant. “Y/nnie?” he asks gently as you end your call. “Where's our boy?”
“O-Our-,” you stammer, eyes widening at him.
The silence that follows is loud. Around the room, heads turn, the abrupt outburst of movement marking a collective interest in the unfolding drama, or rather, the slip of the tongue that Minho just let loose. The members, more or less familiar with the private dynamics slowly simmering between you and Minho, can hardly contain their amusement.
"Did Minho just say 'our boy'?" Jisung repeats, his voice teasing as he nudges Chan with his elbow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, Minho, since when did Y/nnie and you start sharing custody?” he chimes in, laughter tinting his voice as he looks over at you both, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Minho, usually so composed, feels a warm flush spreading up his neck, coloring his cheeks as he meets your startled gaze. He hadn’t even realized what he'd said until it was echoed back to him, and now, caught in the playful teasing of his friends, he finds himself grappling for a response.
"I just meant—" Minho starts, trying to backpedal, but Felix cuts him off, practically bouncing in his seat with delight.
"Aww, look at him! He’s embarrassed! Minho hyung, it’s cute, really. Embrace the family vibes!" Felix teases, his voice light and teasing.
You, still slightly flustered by Minho’s unexpected inclusivity, try to regain your composure. "Minjun is just with Hyejin," you manage to say, redirecting the conversation to the young boy's whereabouts. They went somewhere else to play. He should be nearby."
Yet, the teasing doesn’t stop there. Throughout the rest of the break, the members throw in casual jokes about family planning and shared parenting. Their banter is light but pointed, a humorous acknowledgment of the evolving relationship dynamics within their circle.
As the laughter and jokes continue, Minho finds himself looking over at you, and something about your shy smile, the way you're trying to hide your own amusement, settles the warmth in him more firmly. It's a reassurance, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t misspeak after all.
As practice resumes and the members scatter back to their positions, Minho pulls you aside for a quick, private word, his expression earnest. "Hey, about earlier," he begins, his tone soft, apologetic. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It just... came out."
You shake your head, dismissing his concern with a gentle smile. "It’s okay, Minho. Really, it was sweet," you assure him, your voice just as soft. "I guess it’s just a bit new to me, but not unwelcome."
Minho’s eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he allows himself a small, relieved smile. "It felt right," he admits. You already feel like family, you know?”
The word 'family' hangs between you, a weighty yet comforting promise of what’s slowly knitting together.
"Thank you, Minho," you reply, your heart light, warmed by the sincerity of the moment. "That means a lot to me. I'll go check on him, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nods, watching you leave.
As soon as you leave, Changbin asks, “Do you know Minjun's new nickname for Y/nnie?”
“Huh?” Minho frowns at him, grabbing his bottle of water.
“He called him his new mum,” he laughs, and Minho's blush deepens. “He also said you're like Lix and Chan hyung.”
“Oh, you can't tell only half of the story,” Jisung protests. He added, “He said you're kissing like Chan and Lix.”
Minho chokes on his water, tears shooting to his eyes as he coughs. Seungmin pats his back forcefully and starts laughing at him. “He what?” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath.
“Yeah, he even showed Chan hyung that it's not on the cheek but on the lips,” Changbin snickers.
Minho blushes furiously before dropping back onto the floor with a groan. “Well, he's not lying,” he says, and his friends start laughing. Minho inhales shakily, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I still don't know if it's a good idea. I don't want to pull him into the public aspect of my life. I'm also not quite sure if I'm what he needs,” he admits, and they all grow quiet again. “There's a lot of bullshit in the back of my mind about what happened with Yejun. I don't feel like I'm enough for Minjun either.”
“Does it feel right being with Y/nnie, though? If everything else wouldn't matter for a second…does it?” Felix asks gently.
“It does,” he nods.
“Maybe being with Y/n would help your insecurities regarding Minjun,” Hyunjin reminds him.
“You wouldn't be the only parent he has then..sort of,” Jeongin agrees.
Minho hums agreeingly and is about to answer when the door opens. He doesn't have to turn around to identify the small steps echoing on the floor. Minjun closes the distance between them and crawls into his lap, hiding his face in his shirt. Minho frowns and wraps his arms around him as he feels him tremble. “Baby, what's wrong?” he asks worriedly.
“Hyejin is mean,” he sniffles. Chan looks up and frowns at Minho.
“Mean?” he asks confused. “Did she say something bad?” Chan asks him gently.
“She said shut up,” Minjun answers, looking at him with teary eyes. “I just showed her my drawing.”
Minho's heart sinks at how timid he sounds. He cuddles him close and kisses his head. “It's okay, baby. Do you want to show me instead?” he asks soothingly, and Minjun nods.
“I'll handle it,” Chan promises and gets up quickly.
“Where's your drawing, mate?” Felix asks encouragingly, and Minjun gets up, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve.
-
Chan leans against the wall in the elevator, watching you cautiously. You two just got back from handling the situation with Minho’s new assistant, who seems hopelessly overwhelmed by taking care of Minjun. “You love him, don't you?” he asks.
“Minjun?” you ask.
“No, Min,” he chuckles softly. You remain silent for a moment, almost squirming under Chan's observant gaze. “Do you love him?”
“Why?” you ask quietly. “Would that be an issue?”
Chan tilts his head at you. “As long as you don't hurt him, there's absolutely no issue. I'm just asking because he means a lot to us. Minjun does, too. Minho has been hurt very badly before, and I won't let that happen again.”
“I know; he's scared of getting hurt again,” you nod gently and fidget with your hands. “I do love him. Minjun and he mean a lot to me, and I have no intention of hurting either of them.”
“Okay,” Chan nods gently. “Minjun called you his new mum,” he smirked, and you bit back a laugh.
“Sounds like him,” you giggle. “Really, Chan, I don't want to be a distraction or anything. I know that's probably easier with you and Felix, but-.”
Chan giggles softly and shakes his head. “Since we're both part of the group, every argument carries a certain risk. I think you being with them takes a lot off Minho's shoulders with Minjun.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and nods gently. “I'll be there if you need anything. I'd rather have you two get some help than get into another argument that lasts for weeks. He doesn't do well with conflict,” he laughs.
“Me neither,” you laugh.
“And you're sure you want to take over organizing both of our schedules? With Minjun?” he asks gently.
“Oh, Minho's schedule can be done whenever he's available. Minjun doesn't feel like a job, and the older he gets, the less he'll be around the whole day,” you chuckle softly. “Also, let's not get ahead of ourselves; Minho and I haven't named our situation yet.”
Chan hums softly. “If it takes too long, let me know,” he smirks, leading you back to the practice room.
Minjun is sitting on Felix's lap as you enter the room, his drawings spread out on the floor with the others inspecting them closely. He explains them in detail, amusing everyone present with his sweet way to do so. Minho watches him fondly, and looking at him you realize that this soft side of him made him stand out to you in the first place. Chan takes his place next to Felix, hand resting on his thigh naturally as he joins the discussion of Minjun's masterpiece. Minho reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap and resting his head on your shoulder. You're a little surprised by the sudden display of affection here with the others, but the knowing smiles tell you that not only Chan knows. “What happened with Minjun?” he asks quietly.
“Hyejin yelled at him. She didn't realize that being your assistant comes with taking care of Minjun properly. She had already refused to play with him, so he told her about his toys and drawings because he was bored, which annoyed her.
“Told you your replacement is shit,” he says quietly enough for only you to hear.
“Idiot,” you chuckle fondly, smiling as he intertwines your hands. “Well, I'm officially your assistant again. I won't let anyone treat Minjun like that.”
Minho's hold on you tightens. “That's why I trust you with him.” You squeeze his hands lovingly, leaning back against him.
-
Minho giggles stupidly as he watches you stitch up the back of Leebit’s head. You've just spent a while trying to figure out a way to include some of his cologne in the plushie to make it smell like him for Minjun, much to his amusement.
“You're so easily entertained sometimes,” you roll your eyes at him fondly. Minho circles the table, steps behind you, and wraps his arms around your waist.
“You're amusing to watch sometimes,” he gives back, kissing your cheek. “But adorable.”
“Well, thanks. Not my fault your son is so attached to you,” you tease him gently, smiling as he runs his hands down your thighs, resting his head on your shoulder.
“Hey, how is the sheer amount of love my son has for me my fault, huh?” he asks, gently squeezing your thighs. “It's not like I'd get what's so special,” he snorts.
“You're his father, and compared to some other people we won't name here, you're actually there,” you say, and Minho bites back a laugh. You shake your head, focusing on the stitching, though the warmth of Minho's presence makes it hard to concentrate. "I think you underestimate your charm, Minho."
"I could say the same about you," he whispers back, his voice low and affectionate.
As you finish up with Leebit, Minho gently takes it from you, examining your work with an appreciative eye. "Perfect. He won't even notice the fix. You're amazing, Y/nnie."
The praise, sincere and simple, stirs something deep within you, and you find yourself turning to face him, his hands still circled around your waist. "I just don't want him to feel so alone whenever you're gone," you say.
Minho nods, his gaze softening. "You're so sweet. Don't you ever leave us, dear."
"Even when it gets complicated?" you ask, needing to hear his answer. You haven’t been this close to someone in ages, and you know Minho is a lot further than you in a few areas, but his prior hurt can’t be disregarded.
"Especially then," Minho affirms, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "We're in this together, right?"
"Right," you agree, leaning in to kiss him—a sweet, affirming connection that promises more than words could.
-
The ring of Minho’s phone cuts through the quiet of his living room. Glancing at the caller ID, his stomach tightens uncomfortably; Yejun’s name flashes across the screen, bringing with it a cascade of unwelcome emotions.
He hesitates for a moment before picking up. “Yejun.”
“Minho,” her voice comes through, falsely cheerful. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Minjun. I want to take him to the U.S. with me for a while. Just a trip. It could be good for him.”
Minho’s grip on the phone tightens, his other hand balling into a fist at his side. Did she already forget the debacle from last time? “Yejun, we’ve talked about this. Minjun doesn’t want that. Not without me.”
There’s a pause, and when she speaks again, her tone has cooled significantly. “You just don’t want to let me have him,” she says.
“That’s not it,” Minho replies, struggling to keep his voice even. “It’s about what he needs. And right now, he needs stability, something you walking in and out of his life doesn’t provide. Especially not after last time.”
Yejun’s laugh is sharp, biting. “Oh, now you’re the perfect father, huh? Wasn’t so perfect when we were married. Always away, always working. You were a shit husband, Minho.”
The words sting more than Minho likes to admit. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that his being away often hadn’t been the core issue. “I was not perfect,” he continues, the weight of their failed marriage always a tender wound. “And I am sorry for my part in what happened between us. But this isn’t about us, Yejun. It’s about Minjun.”
Silence stretches on the other end before Yejun’s voice cracks through, icy and menacing. “You’re keeping my son from me, Minho. You might fool everyone else with your doting father act, but I know the truth. I know who you really are.”
“You don't know shit, Yejun,” he says firmly. “You haven't been there for the past four years. Don't act like you know anything about me and my relationship with Minjun.”
“It doesn't matter if it's true or not if someone else believes me,” she says lowly.
Minho feels a chill run down his spine. “Yejun, please. Let’s not do this. If you want to see Minjun, you can visit here and spend time with him where he’s comfortable. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
“Fair?” Yejun spits the word out like it tastes bitter. “You expect me just to accept scraps of time with my own son? You’ve turned him against me, Minho.”
“That’s not true. Minjun is old enough to know what he wants. And right now, he doesn’t want to go with you,” Minho insists, his voice firm. “He’s happy here, with his life here.”
There’s a venomous pause before Yejun’s voice lowers, a dark promise threading through her words. “You may have won this little round, Minho, but this isn’t over. I will have my son back. And I’ll destroy your life if I have to for taking him away from me. I’ll make you pay yourself stupid once I take him back in.”
“You chose to go away. You handed over full custody to me; technically, I could make sure you never see him again, which I don't because that's bullshit. But don't twist things,” Minho’s heart races with a mix of anger and fear—anger at her threats and fear of what she might be capable of. “Yejun, don’t do this. Don’t make threats. Let’s try to handle this like adults, for Minjun’s sake.”
Yejun’s laugh is cold, devoid of any real humor. “Oh, honey. This is just the beginning. I left because I had to, not because I wanted to. You made our life impossible. Remember that.”
With a click, she hangs up, leaving Minho staring at his phone, her words echoing in his head. He slumps back into the sofa, the weight of the call settling over him like a heavy blanket.
After a few moments of stunned silence, he stands, pacing the living room. The threat Yejun posed was not just to his tranquility but to Minjun’s well-being. He knew he couldn’t take her words lightly. Yejun was unpredictable, and if her past actions were any indication, she was capable of following through on her threats.
He needed to be proactive. First, he would need to talk to his legal team about securing his custody of Minjun, ensuring that Yejun couldn’t just take him without consent. Then, he would need to sit down with Minjun and prepare him, just in case Yejun tried to contact him directly.
By the time you arrive back home with Minjun, he is mentally exhausted but knows the day is far from over.
Minjun greets him with a smile and runs into his arms the moment he reaches him. “Daddy! I'm home!”
Minho hugs him tightly, lifting him up and spinning him around, Minjun’s laughter a balm to his frayed nerves. Setting him down, he kneels before him, looking into his son’s eyes. “Buddy, we need to talk about something important,” he begins, his voice soft but serious.
Minjun’s face sobers, sensing the gravity in his father’s tone. “Is everything okay, Daddy?”
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Minho reassures, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We just have some things to sort out, you and I. But no matter what, we’re together in this. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” Minjun nods, trust shining in his eyes.
As you sit down together, Minho’s heart swells with love for his son. No matter what Yejun threatened, he would protect Minjun and ensure his happiness. They were a team, and together, they could face anything - even this.
Minho fills you in quietly later as Minjun is playing on the carpet not far from you. Your heart sinks at her threats, and you almost feel sorry for her twisted view of what happened. That couldn't be healthy.
-
Minho’s sleep is uneasy, his dreams filled with vague, unsettling images. He awakes with a start to the intrusive buzzing of his phone. He reaches out groggily, the glow from the screen harsh against the dim light of early morning. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Minho’s gaze settles on a flood of notifications—missed calls, texts, and several urgent notifications from various news apps.
As he scrolls through them, a cold knot forms in his stomach. Each message seems to echo the same shocking revelation: “Yejun reveals Minho is dating his son’s babysitter!” and “Questions arise over Minho’s capabilities as a parent!” His heart pounds as he reads snippets of articles, each one painting him in an increasingly unfavorable light.
Beside him, you stir, your brow furrowing in sleep. Minho’s first instinct is to protect you from the storm that is about to break. He slips out of bed, his mind racing as he tries to process the information. How had things spiraled out of control so quickly? He knew Yejun was bitter about their past, but to go this far was something he hadn't anticipated.
He paces the room, his phone almost slipping from his sweaty palm as he tries to call Chan, his first person to turn to when his public life's falling apart. Chan had a way of handling these situations that made him feel safe. After several rings, a groggy voice answers.
“Min? It’s...what time is it?” Chan sounds disoriented, but he snaps to attention as soon as Minho begins to speak.
“I'm sorry for waking you, Channie hyung,” he says quietly, feeling a little guilty for disrupting his already fucked sleep schedule.
Chan sits up at the timid sound of his voice. Minho doesn't call him ‘Channie hyung’ often; It's usually when he's feeling anxious or very thankful about something. He doubts it's the latter. “Minnie, what's wrong?” he asks gently, slipping out of bed to let Felix keep sleeping.
“Channie, it’s all over the news. Yejun... she told them about Y/nnie and me. She said I can’t take care of Minjun properly. It’s a mess,” Minho’s voice is a mix of anger and desperation.
“What?!” Chan’s voice suddenly becomes sharp and angry. “She did what? Hold on, I’m checking this now.”
Silence fills the line for a few moments before Chan speaks again, his voice icy. “I see it. This is bullshit, Minho. She’s crossed a line. I’m calling the PR team. We need to handle this swiftly.”
“Thanks, hyung. I...I don’t know what to do,” Minho confesses, running a hand through his hair. His heart feels like it is being squeezed in his chest, the anxiety making it hard to breathe.
“Just stay put and try to keep calm. I’ll handle the media part. You just... make sure Y/nnie is okay. He's going to be dragged into this mess too,” Chan advises, his voice calm, but Minho can hear the underlying strain.
Minho nods, though Chan can’t see it. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Thanks, Channie, seriously.”
“Always, mate. We’re in this together,” Chan reassures him before hanging up.
-
Minho slipped out of the house quietly soon after, relieved that Minjun and you were still peacefully asleep. He needs to clear his head to handle everything calmly, and Chan will be busy for a while now.
Minho steps into the practice room and stretches his tired body, warming up. He turns on the music a little more quietly than usual and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths as he prepares his body for the usual strain of dancing.
He grabs his phone after a while and swallows hard. It isn't just the messages or missed calls—it's headlines, the kind that blur the lines between personal and public in the most invasive ways. “Stray Kids’ Minho’s Ex-Wife Claims Neglect—Says He’s Too Busy Dating Babysitter to Care for Son.” The words are crafted to scandalize, and they do their job perfectly.
The news is spreading fast, and with each passing minute, the narrative is slipping further from his control. Yejun had not only threatened him in private but also taken her grievances to the most public domain possible. The implications were catastrophic, affecting not just him but also Minjun and you, who had been nothing but supportive and loving towards both him and his son.
Minho gets lost in their newest choreo, moving his body precisely to the music, and tries to stop thinking about it for a while. Chan finds him there about an hour later, turning the music off as the song ends. “Thought I'd find you here.”
Minho pants softly and grabs the towel Chan holds out for him, wiping his face. “Needed to clear my head.”
The room is silent, heavy with unsaid words, until Chan finally speaks, his voice tight with anger and concern. “This is messed up, Min. She can’t just throw you to the wolves like this.”
Minho sighs, rubbing his temples. “I know, but she’s doing it anyway. She’s making it all public and dragging Y/n into it, too. It’s getting out of hand, and I’m worried about what this is doing to Minjun.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, and his protectiveness over his friend is evident. “We’ll fix this, okay? I talked to the PR team to see how we can counteract these claims. And I’m here, whatever you need.”
Minho looks up, startled as the door opens and Felix steps inside, followed by the rest of their closest friends. “Sorry, we're a little late.”
They all gather on the floor next to Minho and Chan, reassuringly patting his back as they do. “Let's deal with this bitch once and for all,” Jisung says firmly, feeling the need to protect little Minjun from this mess.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Seungmin asks, glancing at Chan questioningly.
“Everyone of us will publish a statement; I already talked that through. Minho shouldn't have any issues proving he's the one worthy of custody in case she snaps and takes him to court. Hyunjin, Innie, you have an interview coming up; be prepared for dumb questions.”
“I'll make them look stupid instead,” Hyunjin grins, pulling a weak laugh from Minho.
“Have you talked to your parents yet?” Jeongin asks Minho, who shakes his head.
“I forgot about that,” he admits, already searching for his phone.
“Might be a good idea to clear things up with them first,” Changbin agrees.
“Whatever happens, we have your back,” Felix promises.
“Thank you guys, really. Just…if you find ways to ease Y/nnie with this, I'd be grateful. He's not exactly prepared for the public’s shit as we are.”
“Of course,” Chan assures him. “Now go call your parents.”
The support is reassuring, but the problem looms large and unyielding. As the day progresses, you come to find Minho, your expression fraught with worry. Seeing you so distressed adds another layer of guilt to Minho’s already heavy conscience.
“Hey,” he says softly as you hand over Minjun to Jisung, who leaves you some space.
“Hey,” you echo, swallowing hard. “Minho, maybe I should just leave,” you suggest hesitantly, the words paining you even as they leave your lips. “If I’m not around, she won’t have another reason to attack you like this.”
Minho looks up sharply, his eyes locking with yours. “Y/n, no. Leaving won’t fix this. It’s not your presence that’s the problem—it’s Yejun. And I’m not going to let her chase you away. You mean too much to me, to Minjun.”
Your eyes fill with tears, touched by his words but still shaken by the rapid unraveling of your quiet life. “But Minho, this is getting so big. What if it affects Minjun more than it already has? What if your career—”
He shakes his head, hands finding yours. “Look, whatever happens, we face it together. Yejun is trying to isolate us and make us feel weak by dividing us. I won’t let her. I love you, Y/nnie, and I need you to know that.”
The affirmation, so heartfelt and desperate, breaks through your resolve to distance yourself. You nod, squeezing his hands back, finding strength in his conviction.
“We’ll deal with this,” Minho continues, his voice firm despite the chaos around you. “I’ll talk to the lawyers, and see what legal avenues we have to protect ourselves and Minjun. And Chan is right—we’ll work with the PR team to set the record straight.”
True to his word, Minho arranged meetings with his legal team, and together with the public relations department, they began crafting a response that would address the allegations head-on. Chan was a constant presence, offering both strategic advice and moral support, and his friendship was a steady force in the tumult.
As the week progressed, strategies were implemented. The company issued a statement denouncing the unfounded accusations and highlighting Minho’s dedication as a father, accompanied by testimonials from colleagues and friends outside the group who vouched for his character and his role in Minjun’s life.
Yet, despite the countermeasures, the shadow of the scandal lingered. The press was relentless, and the public's appetite for celebrity drama was insatiable. Minho found himself scrutinizing every decision and every interaction with Minjun and you, aware that the eyes of the world were now critically watching.
Minho asked you to move in with them so it'd be easier for him to keep you safe. It didn't change much for you since you've been staying over a lot already and barely went back home. So, of course, you said yes.
Two months later
Felix's birthday is just around the corner, and you're almost a little surprised when he comes to you to invite you all. He giggles at your stunned look and tilts his head at you. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”
“I'm just…did you ask Min?” you ask nervously.
“No,” Felix shakes his head. “He's busy right now, and I'm inviting you as you are part of his and, therefore, our family.”
“Oh,” you nod gently, a shy smile covering your lips. “Sure, I'd love to be there,” you nod. “I bet Minjun would love it as well, and Minho will surely be there.”
“Lovely,” he smiles and gives you a gentle hug.
Minho later walks in, Minjun sitting on his shoulders with a wide grin. “Y/nnie!” Minjun shouts and waves at you. “Look, I'm tall!”
“Oh yeah, you're really tall now, buddy!” you assure him.
Minho giggles softly, stopping in front of you and greeting you with a soft kiss. “Hey there,” he says fondly.
“Hey,” you smile back at him. “Ready to go home?” you ask, and Minho hums softly.
“Minjun is staying over at Chan and Felix's tonight,” he says, and you frown at him, surprised.
“The whole night?” you ask, and Minho hums agreeing. Over the past two months, you've been letting Minjun stay with all of the boys for a few hours each. It helped him grow less dependent on Minho, and he became more confident about staying somewhere else for a while. Minjun seemed happy, and Minho was more than glad. It allowed you all to grow together. “What's the occasion?” you ask curiously. Chan and Felix had been the ones Minjun loved staying with a lot. Chan once told Minho how much Felix loved having him around, and so the two of them made sure their boyfriend and son got what they loved.
“Maybe I just want to take you out for dinner without having to glance at the time,” he smiles softly, letting Minjun down as he spots his beloved ‘Changnin’. Minho’s hands find your waist, eyes growing soft the longer he looks at you. “Maybe I want to kiss you stupid after without worrying about a certain someone bursting in and going ‘eww’.”
You giggle softly at the memory of Minjun catching Minho kissing you a little more passionately than he'd do in front of him. “Sounds lovely,” you chuckle.
Minho hums gently, searching your eyes as if he doesn't know if he should keep talking or not. “Maybe…Maybe I'd be ready to take the next step,” he says, and your eyes widen. “No pressure or anything, though. Just..if it feels right if we're both comfortable tonight…I think I'm ready.”
You can't bite back the giddy smile covering your lips. Over the months you've been with Minho, you have never gone much further than kissing. He once covered your neck with loving little bites, but you didn't get much further with Minjun, only a few doors further. You've been able to tell how Minho grew a little impatient every time things were developing into something more, but there was simply no chance you two could take the time you'd need for your first time together with a child around the house. “You're sure?” you ask gently, and Minho nods.
“I'm sure, my love,” he says sweetly, making your stomach flutter already.
“I love you, Min,” you whisper, watching his eyes sparkle with joy.
“I love you too, Y/nnie,” he says softly. “Come on, let's make sure Minjun is with Chan and Felix,” Minho suggests with a playful nudge, guiding you toward them.
Felix is already fooling around with Minjun, and Chan is watching them fondly. “Are you ready to go?” Chan asks as you reach them.
“Yeah, everything is done,” Minho nods, smirking at Minjun. “Are you ready to stay with Lix and Channie?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods happily, and Minho crouches down in front of him.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? Uncle Channie will take you to the studio with him if you want to,” he tells him, gently squeezing his little hands. “Be good, yeah? No discussions about bedtime either, baby.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods eagerly and tightly hugs him goodbye. “I love you,” he says softly.
“I love you too, dumpling,” Minho smiles and kisses his cheek, gently brushing back his curls.
You gently rest your hand on his shoulder, silently reminding him to let go of him. It’s also the first night for Minho without his boy since Yejun left. Minho does, and Minjun’s hugging you goodbye tightly. Chan chuckles softly, noticing Minho’s worried frown. “I’ll return him intact, I promise,” he winks at him, and Minho relaxes with a chuckle.
Felix lifts up Minjun, smiling reassuringly at Minho. “We’ll take good care of him,” he tells him.
“I know,” he assures them gently. “Just new for me as well,” he laughs, gently poking Minjun’s cheek. “Be good, yeah?”
“You too,” he says, making everyone giggle.
Minho rolls his eyes fondly, winking at him. “Yeah, okay.” His hand finds yours as they leave, and you squeeze it softly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s growing up way too fast,” he chuckles with a soft sigh.
“Mhm, yeah, I can’t believe you saying this either,” you snort teasingly.
“Shut up, will you?” he laughs, gently shoving your side. “Alright, let’s go,” he gives himself a push.
The two of you reach his car outside the building. As you both settle in, a sense of nervous excitement fills the air - a mixture of anticipation for the evening ahead and the deep emotional connection that has grown between you two.
Back at home, the two of you get ready, and you let Minho match your outfits since he has a way better eye for what’s needed in public. You barely got used to people taking pictures of him when you were only his assistant, but now you had to excel yourself as his boyfriend. Minho does his best to make you feel comfortable and look presentable for pictures whenever you’re out together. Once he’s done, he hums to himself happily, smacking your butt lovingly. Typical.
The drive is quiet but comfortable, filled with shared glances and soft smiles, each exchange weaving a deeper layer of intimacy. As you arrive at the restaurant, Minho’s hand finds yours, his grip reassuring and warm. You soon blend out the people around you, focusing on him only. This isn’t very hard to do because something about Minho caught your attention long before you started dating.
Minho is more relaxed lately now that the whole mess with Yejun is settled. All of his friends repeatedly spoke out for him, and two weeks ago, Minho attended a press conference dealing with the matter. You know that hadn’t been easy for him, but he had been rather open and honest, making sure all the rumors were addressed and settled. He also made sure to clarify that you’ve been working for him for years, slowly taking more and more care of Minjun and growing closer with him in the process. She did her best to take him back to court, but looking at the circumstances, it only benefited Minho, who refused all of the payments she’d have to make for dragging his name through dirt and spreading lies.
After dinner, Minho suggests a walk, and you wander through a nearby park adorned with twinkling lights and soft shadows. You stop beneath a street lantern, its soft glow painting the scene in an almost magical light. Minho turns to you, his eyes reflecting the twinkling lights, his face etched with tenderness.
“Y/nnie,” he begins, his voice a whisper of emotion. “Being with you has made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I feel like I can finally breathe like I’m more myself than I’ve ever been.” You listen, your heart swelling with each word, the sincerity in his voice anchoring the swirling emotions inside you. “And I want to share everything with you. Not just the dinners or the walks, or the laughs we have with Minjun. I want to share all the moments, even those we’ve yet to live,” he continues, his hand reaching up to gently caress your cheek. “I love you so much, and I’ll be there as long as you let me.”
The emotional weight of his words pulls you closer, and you find your lips meeting in a kiss that speaks volumes. It’s tender at first, explorative, and as if each of you is memorizing the feel of the other. The kiss deepens; it grows more passionate, fueled by the months of growing love and restrained desire.
Minho’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. His hands trace the lines of your back, pressing you into his warmth. You respond in kind, weaving your hands into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it’s all that exists in the world - the two of you, beneath the warm lights, lost in each other.
Eventually, the need for air forces you apart, but only slightly. Foreheads pressed together, breathing mingled, you share a quiet laugh - a moment of pure happiness and mutual understanding.
“Let’s go home?” you ask gently, and he hums in response.
The walk back to the car is filled with easy silence, which is comfortable and reassuring. Once home, Minho leads you to your bedroom, his hand steady in yours, a silent promise of what’s to come - a night of exploring, of loving, of affirming the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His lips entangle yours in a passionate kiss as he silently closes the door behind you. The back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and you both drop down into it. Minho hovers over you, eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration and love. He’s bracing himself next to your head, caging your legs in with his knees, and leans down, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss. His body moves on its own, searching yours, and the minute your hands find his hips, he lowers himself onto his elbows, closing the distance between your bodies. “Shit,” he mutters against your lips as you arch into him.
You reach down, testing the waters and palming him through his pants. Minho’s hips stutter, a soft moan leaving him, head dropping against your shoulder. “Minho?” you ask softly, noticing how desperately his body reacts to your every touch without him even fully realizing it. “When was the last time you had some time for yourself…like this?”
Minho laughs, planting a row of gentle kisses against your neck. “My sweet love, you have no idea,” he chuckles. “Remember that clingy kid of mine?” he asks, making you laugh as well.
“Right,” you giggle and kiss his cheek.
“Just tell me what you need, love; I’ll do it,” Minho promises gently, smiling down at you fondly. “We have time.”
Minho’s whispered promise lingers in the air, the warmth of his smile making your heart flutter. The room feels isolated from the world, a private sanctuary where the past complexities and external pressures fade into the background. Here, it’s just the two of you, bound by an intimacy that has deepened with each shared struggle and joy.
You guide his hand beneath your shirt, letting him explore your bare skin. Your breath hitches as he follows your silent directions with attentive care. Minho’s touch is skilled, a perfect blend of tender and assured, driven by his desire to bring you comfort and pleasure. His eyes never leave yours, seeking confirmation and encouragement, his own desire mirrored in the deepening blush of your cheeks.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. His fingertips trace patterns along the waistband of your trousers that leave you breathless.
“More than okay,” you manage to reply, your voice a whisper caught between sighs. The room fills with the sound of your intertwined breaths, a testament to the closeness that both of you cherish.
Minho’s movements become more purposeful. His free hand cradles your face, his thumb caressing your jawline as he watches the effects of his actions reflected in your expressions. The world narrows down to the shifting shadows cast by the dim light, the soft bedding beneath you, and the man who has come to mean so much. He has barely touched you and you’re already melting into a puddle. How the hell would you survive this?
PART FOUR | PART SIX
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
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I can’t stop thinking about Ukrainian!Simon and Gaelic!Johnny
like what if Simon and Tommy are traveling in between hostiles and they end up in the UK? And what if Soap and his friend Gaz are also traveling / backpacking and end up in the UK as like thier first stop.
What if Simon and Tommy get separated and Soap and Gaz get separated and somehow, with each others help, Simon and Johnny reunite! Simon gets to show off his English and Johnny gets to try some Ukrainian but it’s sounds awful with his thick Scottish accent, but Simon doesn’t mind. It’s cute in an endearing way :(((
sorry if this is long I. Just can’t get them out of my brain
ukrainian ghost my beloved. also riley brothers my beloved
quickly i'd like to apologize because i just changed it a little bit to be tommy&gaz, ghost&soap instead since i misread the prompt and finished writing this before i realized 🗿 i hope that is ok. also this got so much longer than i intended
(other language dialogue will just be in bold italics. this takes place between ghost and soap's first meeting and soap's trip to ukraine)
-
For as long as Johnny has been travelling in his adult life, every trip he's made thus far has been solo—mostly. Beyond pit stop visits with friends living in other countries and that one incredible experience with Simon the Ukrainian (Johnny had, unfortunately, never learned his surname), his backpacking travels have always been taken by his lonesome.
It was always easier that way—it was cheaper, easier to keep track of only himself and one schedule, and he was more than sociable enough to find companionship in the locals.
However, that isn't to say he's entirely against organizing something with a friend—hence why he has Kyle along with him.
Or, had.
Being that the trip they were soon to be properly embarking on was the kind of thing Kyle wasn't used to, one of Johnny's suggested preparations is to first stay in a hostel somewhere within the UK to ease Kyle into the kind of arrangement not everyone finds all that... comfortable. Hell knows Johnny would rather forget the first few times he'd ever stayed in a hostel.
They'd be somewhere familiar enough but not too familiar, and once a few days have passed then they'd move on to their first real destination. It was a good plan—a great plan, even, if johnny had to say anything about it.
At least, it would be, if he and Kyle hadn't managed to get separated before they've so much as checked in.
This, thinks Johnny, is exactly why I said we should take a test run.
He wishes it were so simple as calling his friend and setting a rendez-vous point, or just meeting up at the hostel, but unfortunately it had been Johnny with the address and directions, and Kyle with the dead phone he'd forgotten to charge.
Surely... surely Kyle couldn't have gotten too far, right? It's all Johnny can hope as he searches the area, repeatedly calling out his friend's name.
But no dice. He slumps onto a nearby bench, slipping his pack from his shoulders just to take a moment to compose himself, burying his face in his palms. They're barely a day into this—he shouldn't already be this stressed.
Then he hears his own name being called, distant and uncertain, and for a brief, hopeful moment, Johnny wonders if the universe is actually on his side today despite the rough start.
And, well, it is—albeit in a different way than expected.
Johnny lifts his head, squinting out in the direction of the voice. Once adjusted to the distance, Johnny's eyes widen upon realizing who it belongs to.
"Simon?" Johnny exclaims.
Once he closes the space between them, Johnny is happy to confirm that yes, that crop of blond hair and shy, crooked smile are most definitely familiar.
Simon slides onto the bench beside him as Johnny moves his pack to make room. Simon himself isn't carrying anything, but Johnny assumes that's because he—unlike a certain two someones—actually got the chance to check-in somewhere before going out to explore.
"Hi," Johnny breathes, still left speechless by the warmth of Simon's coffee-coloured eyes. "How are you?"
He winces, knowing how accented his Ukrainian is no matter how desperately he's tried to correct himself, but to Simon's credit, his only reaction is a wider smile.
"You've been learning," Simon remarks in English. The lilt of his accent is far more pleasant in a foreign tongue than Johnny's own, he's most certain of it.
"A little bit," Johnny admits sheepishly. It had been a difficult venture, learning a language entirely new from his first, but he had been putting the work in—not only for having been inspired by Simon, but almost maybe for the off-chance they'd meet again.
Like this.
Simon replies with something in Ukrainian, something Johnny only understands pieces of. His confusion must show in his face, as Simon just looks at him, laughs quietly to himself, then says, "I said, 'Your pronunciation is good... for a beginner.'"
Johnny snorts, playfully shoving Simon in retaliation along with an indignant protest. A proper laugh bubbles out of Simon's throat this time, all too pleased with himself and the teasing insult.
"Sorry we can't all master a new language right away," Johnny says, shaking his head awfully fondly—already, just as Simon had, he's noticed improvement in the other man's English, though far more significant that Johnny's own progress. "Maybe you'll just have to start teaching me."
Simon shrugs a casual shoulder, a mirthful grin still lingering on his face, though far more subdued than it had been seconds before. He remains silent, so Johnny continues, the moment somewhat reminiscent of their first meeting when Johnny had mistaken Simon's quietness as an invitation to fill the gaps—he knows better now, however.
"So, what're you doing here?" Asks Johnny, offering a much gentler nudge with his shoulder.
Simon hesitates just briefly, and initially Johnny chalks it up to him trying to find the words in English, but then his expression falls somber, his brow furrowing with concern.
"I'm here with my brother, but then he..." he begins explaining, slow like he's unsure of something. He makes a vague shooing gesture as he chews on whatever irks him. "...and now I don't know."
Johnny frowns, trying to decipher what Simon is talking about—then comes to the realization that he's in the exact same situation as him; currently in search for a lost travel partner with a tendency to wander.
"Well... can you call him? Or where are you staying?" Johnny questions. "He could just have gone back there, aye?"
Simon hums assent. "He didn't answer. I was walking back, when I saw you. You looked…”
He trails off, whether it be to avoid adding insult to injury or just because Simon didn’t have the vocabulary.
“Troubled?” Johnny supplies. “Distraught? Stressed?”
Simon nods.
Johnny huffs, slumping back on the bench. “‘M in the same boat. Lost my friend and his phone is dead,” he sighs. “He might be at the hostel, though. Or heading there. It’s as good a place as any to check, at this point.”
“A hostel?” Simon asks. “Maybe it’s the same one.”
“Same one?” Johnny raises an eyebrow before understanding hits him—and yeah, maybe the universe really is on his side today. How convenient it would be to have an excuse to spend more time with Simon, if they were staying at the same place. “Aye, could be. Why don’t I come with you, anyway?”
Simon doesn’t refuse him, so Johnny stands and slings his pack over his shoulders before offering a hand to Simon. Despite doing so, a part of Johnny is still surprised Simon accepts, his palm warm and lightly callused.
Then Johnny’s phone starts to ring. He pauses, pulls it out; it’s an unknown number. He glances at Simon, who jerks his chin toward the device as if to say go ahead and answer.
He accepts the call and puts it on speaker. “Hello?”
Kyle’s voice is suddenly in his ear, not quite frantic but nor is it completely calm—breathless, is really what he is. “Tav? That you, mate?”
“Aye, it’s me.” Johnny glances at Simon again, who just shrugs. “Where are you? What are you callin’ from?”
“Borrowing someone’s phone. Says he didn’t know enough English to help,” Kyle explains. “Can you tell me the address of this place? I’ll just meet you there.”
Johnny rattles off the address of the hostel, not at all ignorant to the way Simon’s face lights up with recognition—definitely the same place, then.
“Thanks a lot. I’ll just—“ Kyle suddenly cuts himself off, and Johnny can hear quiet murmurs on the other side. He waits impatiently to see what it’s all about. “The… he’s saying something about his brother. He knows the place.”
Simon’s brows arch, and Johnny would bet he’s thinking something similar about how coincidental it would be that Kyle would be enlisting Simon’s brother for help just as he’s also searching.
Tentatively leaning closer to the phone, Simon asks, “Tom?”
There’s a brief rustling on the other end along with some more mumbling before a new voice cuts through the phone. “Simon?”
Johnny wordlessly passes the phone off to Simon before he starts into a tirade of rapidly-paced Ukrainian directed at his brother. Again, Johnny is back to understanding only bits and pieces, but he has to imagine it’s something along the lines of cursing and telling off for not answering the phone earlier and other kinds of brotherly arguments. He’s all too familiar with that tone, having both given and received such talks to and from his own siblings.
Finally, Simon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “See you there,” he grumbles. Then, in English, presumably for Kyle’s benefit on the other end of the line, “Me and Johnny will meet you at the hostel. Sorry for…”
“No worries,” Kyle replies. “And—was that Johnny, you said? Tav, I thought—“
Johnny seizes his phone and hangs up before Kyle can finish. Simon regards him curiously, but ultimately says nothing. They finally set off to their destination.
Johnny is glad, at least, that everything seems to have worked out.
*
Reunion at the hostel is a well-needed burden off Johnny’s shoulders, more than happy to finally check in and get settled somewhere before enjoying their next few days in town.
Simon goes back to scolding his brother as soon as they’ve all arrived, pulling him aside to talk whilst Kyle and Johnny get everything figured out. Johnny minds his own business, of course, until their voices suddenly drop and he glances over out of curiosity—and watches as a splotchy, pink blush suddenly spreads across Simon’s face.
Kyle elbows him in the side. “So, Johnny, huh?” He teases, likely now since Johnny can’t simply end a call. “Thought no one was allowed to call you that.”
Johnny scowls at Kyle. “Haud yer wheesht, would you?” He hisses. “It’s not like that. It’s not like anything.”
“Uh huh,” Kyle says, entirely unconvinced. He does, in fact, shut up for a moment—but then there’s a smug grin growing on his face that Johnny doesn’t like in the least. “Wait—don’t tell me that’s the Simon.”
Unfortunately, Johnny can’t help his face going red.
“It is!” Kyle whisper-shouts. “Oh, this is too good. Hey, Simon!”
Both Simon and his brother turn at the sudden interruption. There’s still remnants of a blush on Simon’s own face.
Johnny wishes the world would just open up and swallow him whole.
“We were gonna head out to dinner,” Kyle says, much too loud. “Care to join us?”
Simon glances at Tom and asks him something quietly, to which he nods after a moment of consideration.
Simon nods as well. “Sure. We’ll come.”
Johnny decides then and there that he’s taking back everything positive he might’ve thought about the universe and his luck today. He can already see the way Kyle is scheming, and something tells Johnny a plan is already formulating in his head—all because of that silly nickname.
Though, Johnny supposes, it’d probably be pretty easy for Kyle to connect the dots without that part.
Oh well. He wanted to spend more time with Simon anyway, right? He shouldn’t take today’s many coincidences for granted just yet.
And hell—denying this would be a waste of an opportunity to get to know Simon and his family better, if he were ever to go ahead with that surprise visit to Ukraine in the future.
#ask#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#tommy riley#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghost x soap#ghoap#writing
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An Overgrown Puppy
Cerberus
It's really lonely down here.
I understand that most people are scared of a giant dog with three heads, especially when it's as loud as I am, but I don't mean them any harm. I can't help that I get excited easily.
Of course, when they start calling me names, that makes me angry. I suppose that's why I'm in this cavern in the first place: too much destruction on my part.
Still, it would be nice to have someone that wasn't afraid of me.
"Look, there's flowers bloomin' all over the place!"
As much as I want to begin jumping for joy, I must remain calm. The last set of people that came down here wanted to hurt me. I ended up with a couple meals out of the ordeal, but I wouldn't want to go through that experience again. For one, they tasted rather vile. It took me ages to get that out of my mouth, and even with that I can still taste them sometimes when I burp. It's rather annoying.
"Look how pretty we are..."
Oh no. Not the flowers.
Instinctively, I close all six of my eyes. If I can't see them, they can't tempt me, and my mind can remain clear.
Oh for fuck's sake!
That's not my voice. It doesn't belong to the other two heads, either. No, this belongs to someone else entirely.
This was meant to be a solo venture, but nooo. The brothers just HAD to tag along and make this more difficult for me. As it is, I doubt this creature is going to submit to me, anyway. I don't have anything it wants, but somehow Barbatos is convinced that I do.
Barbatos? They know him?
I like him. Unfortunately, he's too busy to take care of me properly, but he at least seemed sad to have to lock me away like this. Still, orders are orders; while the prince is a lot kinder than the king, he still has to worry about the fate of his people, and I've done too much damage to justify me continuing to walk free unsupervised.
Footsteps.
The flowers are still murmuring, so it's not safe for me to open my eyes and see who it is.
Oh. It's you. Hello, Cerberus.
Why are they acting like they know me?
They smell familiar.
Don't be ridiculous. We've never even met them before.
Listen, I know my scents, and I'm telling you, I recognize this one.
Here we go again. My left and right head arguing again. It doesn't help that one can see into the past while the other one into the future. Makes for way too many philosophical conversations that frankly give me a headache.
Then again, they do make sense sometimes. Like right now.
Let him sniff them.
Thankfully, the flowers shut up at this point, so I can finally open my eyes and see this person for myself. They're rather small. Maybe they would make a good appetizer, but chances are, they wouldn't fill me up, so there's no point in even trying.
The being before me extends their hand out towards me, and I lean down low enough so that my right head can sniff it.
MC! I knew it was you!
What's a person from the future doing here? Don't they know that their presence is going to change the timeline completely? They won't be able to return to the same place that they left.
That's a risk I was willing to take.
They can hear us?
I'm a little surprised myself. I thought our connection would be nonexistent here, but I guess you still know who I am. At least, part of you does.
I most certainly do! You give some of the BEST belly rubs and treats ever! Plus, you always come and soothe me whenever I can't sleep. I've missed you SO much, MC. It just isn't the same without you.
Please tell me they don't end up abandoning us. The idea of a good belly rub does sound nice.
No, no, nothing like that. In the timeline that I come from, you're primarily someone else's. I just help take care of you whenever I swing by to visit.
Oh, PLEASE! You're more than a mere caretaker. You're like my adoptive parent at this point. If I knew I wouldn't scare people up in the human world, I'm SURE we'd spend more time together, but as of right now, that simply isn't possible.
I can sort of follow along with the idea this MC being a human and yet appearing like a demon in this moment, but what I don't understand is this: if they don't end up being my owner, then who does?
This guy.
I totally didn't see him walk in. He's rather imposing with his wings spread out like that.
LUCI!!!
"Luci"?
It's short for Lucifer.
"Zephyr, what exactly is going on?" Lucifer asks, frustration evident in his voice. "Why are all of you down here in the first place? This isn't a safe place for you to be in. At all."
"Well, I came under Barbatos' instructions. Can't say the same about your brothers."
"Bullshit."
"You are more then welcome to talk to Barbatos yourself if you don't believe me, but I'm telling you the truth."
"Then why didn't you tell them to go home?"
"Because Mammon wanted to do something that would cause the other demons to finally shut up. He's tired of you all being treated like shit simply because you used to be angels." Lucifer slowly blinks in shock. "Believe me, I had every intention of sending them away, but I also wasn't about to argue with Mammon when he's that passionate about wanting to improve your situation here in the Devildom."
Six more demons appear, but they hover around the entrance, too afraid to step inside. Lucifer turns his head and looks straight at me, appearing deep in thought. It's clear that he's not the same person that my right head recognizes. Not because of his appearance, but rather his personality. He seems way too cold and rigid to love an animal.
Then again, I've heard that sometimes, those that appear that way end up being the ones that care about others the most. Maybe he's just putting up a emotional barrier at the moment, and he'll open up eventually.
"I suppose there's not room for him at your place, is there?" Lucifer finally sighs, maintaining eye contact with me.
"Unfortunately, no," MC/Zephyr answers. "And I don't want him wandering the woods by himself. He could get hurt." Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I really don't want to do this, but he seems rather attached to you, and it would be cruel to leave him here without knowing if and when he can see you again." He pauses. "He can stay at the House of Lamentation with us, but he's your responsibility, Zephyr. I don't want to hear you complain about having to take care of him, and you're certainly not going to push him onto one of us. If you can't manage that and still complete your duties as our attendant, then I'll have no choice but to put him back in here." MC/Zephyr nods their head.
"Understood." There's a slight glint in their eye, but either Lucifer doesn't notice it or is simply choosing not to comment on it.
It doesn't really matter in any case, because I'm about to be free of this cave! Oh, to breathe fresh air again!
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr
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Do you have any tips/checklist that can help identifying weaknesses in your writing? I read what I have written and there is always just something that seems off, I go through some of the tips you have given before and try to implement said changes but there is still something that's keeping the story from flowing/developing as intended but I just can't pinpoint what exactly. So if you have some tips for this, I'd love to hear it! Thanks!
Pinpointing Story Weaknesses
Here are some common story weaknesses to keep an eye out for:
1 - Weak Plot - Does the story revolve around a conflict? Does the conflict challenge the characters in ways that will captivate the reader's attention? Is the plot full of clichés and other tired elements that make it predictable and unoriginal? Are tropes used in fresh new ways that offer a twist on their usual usage? Are there loose threads that would be unsatisfying if left untied? Are there plot holes that won't make sense to the reader? Is the plot enriched by the exploration of theme and subtext that isn't heavy-handed but offers the reader a deeper understanding of the story? (See: Basic Story Structure, How to Move a Story Forward, How to Find Your Story’s Themes and Thematic Statement; Tropes, Clichés, & Finding Which Clichés to Avoid)
2 - Weak Characters - Are the characters three-dimensional? Do they have a compelling internal conflict (in a story that is character-driven or both character-driven and plot-driven)? Do they have a satisfying character arc? Do they have corresponding wants and needs? Do they have an emotional wound or back story that helps the reader understand who they are and why they make the decisions they make? Do their actions, motivation, choices, and dialogue feel authentic with the personality and circumstances you laid out? Do the main characters have a unique character voice? Do they have fleshed out relationships with other characters? Do you get at the heart of the character's emotions and how they relate to the events of the story? Are emotions illustrated mainly through showing body language, facial expressions, gestures, and suggesting internal cues versus telling how a character feels? Does the dialogue feel unnatural or clunky? Is there an over-reliance on dialogue tags? (See: Plot Driven vs Character Driven Stories, Understanding Goals and Conflict, Character Arc Tips, Recognizing a Flat Character, Important Points of Character Personality, Showing a Character’s Feelings, Giving Your Characters a Unique Voice, Avoiding Repetition with Dialogue Tags)
3 - Weak Setting Development/World Building - Is the setting well-developed, relevant, and believable? Does the setting have so much character it almost feels like a character itself? Do you use plenty of emotional and sensory details to flesh out the visuals? Is the setting immersive to the point the reader will feel they've stepped out of their immediate surroundings and into the world of your story? Are there contradictions in the setting that will pull the reader out of the story? Is there an over-reliance on expository info-dumps or dialogue (aka "telling") to illustrate the world, versus "showing" it through action and the events of the story? (See: Five Things to Help You Describe Fictional Locations, Setting Your Story in an Unfamiliar Place, Guide: Showing vs Telling, The Right Amount of Description (5 Tips!), Weaving Details into the Story)
4 - Weak Narrative Voice - Is the narrative voice consistent, clear, and engaging? If multi-POV, are new POVs switched into only after a scene or chapter break, and is it immediately clear to the reader whose POV they're now in? (See: What is Writing Style?, Understanding POV and the Narrator)
5 - Weak Writing - Is the story well-edited and free from spelling errors, grammatical errors, typos, formatting errors, improper syntax, and punctuation errors? Is the sentence structure clear, strong, and varied? Is there an over-reliance on telling vs showing? Are there problems with the pacing, such as being too slow in places where not much is happening and too fast where important things are happening? Is there an over-reliance on passive vs active voice? Are strong adverbs used in place of weaker ones? Is there an over-reliance on present participles and gerunds (--ing words)? Are contractions unnecessarily omitted, leading to overly formal sounding narrative/dialogue? Is there "purple prose" or description that is excessively ornate/flowery? Is there a compelling beginning, a strong middle, and a satisfying end? (See: Ten Ways to Cut Your Word Count, Guide: How to Skip Time in Your Story, Subtle Scene Transitions, Balancing Dialogue with Exposition and Action, Dropping Hints without Giving Everything Away, Writing Great Beginnings and Endings, The 3 Fundamental Truths of Description, Exposition, Action, and Dialogue, and How to Pace Your Story)
You can also see more on my master list of top posts. I hope that helps!
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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Hiya, I adore your fics, they are so amazing and sweet! ❤️🩹 Could I request a fic?? Could you do producer! F! Reader x han? Like they're in a secret relationship and they get caught?? 😂 Could you please make it slightly cracky but also extremely fluffy??
caught in the mix.
han jisung x fem!reader / you and jisung are both producers at the same company, secretly dating. but your cover gets blown, and everyone finds out about your relationship.
additional tags / producer!jisung x producer!reader, (domestic) fluff, secret relationship, getting caught, canon compliant, workplace romance, established relationship, humor, crack, teasing & banter — 773 words in total.
content warnings / mild swearing, kissing (soft kisses, kisses on the neck, some intense moments of kissing)
authors note @ 15092000volcano / this was super cute to write! <3 i haven't done many jisung fics, so i was really excited to get this request. 😋 plus, i’m obsessed with the producer trope right now, so it was the perfect way to spend my sunday evening. thanks, anon, for the sweet request and the kind words about my work—it means a lot! hope you love the fic! 💓
You’re in a dimly lit recording studio, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. The place is familiar, almost like a second home, except for one crucial detail: this is where you and Jisung have been sneaking off to. You glance over at him as he tinkers with the mixing board, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the computer screen. He catches your eye and shoots you a quick wink, causing your heart to skip a beat.
“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Pass me the headphones?”
You slide them over, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder how long you can keep this secret from the rest of the team. It’s not that you want to hide your relationship, but you know how chaotic things can get with everyone involved.
Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Chan strides in, his usual confident swagger in place. He freezes mid-step when he sees you and Jisung huddled together.
“Uh, am I interrupting something?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
You both jump apart like you’ve been electrocuted, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly. “Nope, just, uh, working on a new track.”
Chan’s eyes narrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. Working. Sure.” He gives you a pointed look before sauntering out, leaving you both in a flustered silence.
“Well, that was close,” you mutter, trying to steady your racing heart.
Jisung chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, babe. We just need to be more careful.”
The next day, you’re in the kitchen, trying to make coffee without waking up the whole house. Jisung sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean into his touch, a content sigh escaping your lips.
“Morning,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.
“Morning,” you reply, turning to kiss him properly.
Just as your lips meet, the door swings open again. This time, it’s Felix, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. He stops dead in his tracks, blinking rapidly as if he’s not sure he’s really seeing this.
“Oh my God,” Felix says, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Are you two...?”
You and Jisung spring apart again, but it’s too late. Felix is already grinning like the Cheshire cat. “This is gold. I can’t wait to tell the others.”
“Felix, no!” you plead, but he’s already out the door, cackling.
Later, you’re sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV, but your mind is elsewhere. Jisung is next to you, his hand discreetly resting on your thigh. You’re trying to act natural when Seungmin strolls in, phone in hand.
He takes one look at you two and snorts. “You guys are terrible at hiding this, you know?”
Jisung tries to play it cool. “Hiding what?”
Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve seen more subtlety in a sledgehammer. Just be glad it’s me and not someone with a camera.”
Your face heats up, and you bury it in Jisung’s shoulder, mumbling something about how you’re trying your best. Jisung just laughs, pulling you closer.
As the day goes on, you and Jisung keep getting caught. Jeongin walks in on you sharing a secret kiss in the hallway and immediately turns on his heel, muttering about how he didn’t need to see that. Hyunjin catches you holding hands under the table and just smirks, giving you a knowing look. Even Minho, who’s usually oblivious to everything, notices the way you and Jisung look at each other and shakes his head with a sigh.
Finally, the inevitable happens. You’re in the studio again, thinking you’re safe. Jisung has you pressed against the wall, his lips on yours, when the door flies open. This time, it’s everyone—all of them, standing there with various expressions of shock, amusement, and exasperation.
“Seriously?” Chan groans, rubbing his temples. “Can you two not keep it in your pants for one minute?”
Felix is laughing so hard he’s doubled over, while Hyunjin and Jeongin exchange high-fives. Seungmin just looks resigned, and Minho’s smirk is wider than ever.
You and Jisung separate, both of you blushing furiously. “Well,” you say, trying to salvage some dignity. “Surprise?”
“Yeah, no shit,” Chan says, but he’s smiling now. “Just... next time, maybe lock the door?”
Jisung chuckles, pulling you into his side. “Noted, boss.”
As everyone piles into the room, the teasing starts in earnest. You feel a warmth spreading through you, knowing that even though you’ve been caught, you’re surrounded by people who care about you.
© deerlino (est. 100624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3
#han x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#jisung x reader#skz fluff#han fluff#jisung fluff#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#han x you#jisung x you#stray kids x you#han imagines#jisung imagines#han scenarios#jisung scenarios#han fanfic#jisung fanfic#*writing#*asks#*requests
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miguel o'hara/male reader
CW: 18+ , top!miguel/bot!reader (they're both switches) , rimming , anal fingering , size difference , anal sex , praise k. , creampie , established relationship , light hurt/comfort , sweet sex , bantering , belly bulge
a little draft i had :333 hhhh not beta read lol kinda rushed towards the end but whatever at this point. just a little treat :3
FEMS, MINORS, EMPTY BLOGS DNF.
"Miguel!" The name of the futuristic Spider-Man rolls off your tongue in a dance that tips between being a moan and a breathless gasp. But why does it matter when it conveys the sensitivity you feel when his tongue dips inside your hole, his rough fingers pulling the cheeks of your ass apart to get to his sweet reward? Why does it matter when you clutch the pillow closer to you, eyes fluttering as whatever sounds you make become muffled by the object?
Miguel responds with a low sound, something that rumbles deep in his chest, a content expression on his face as his tastebuds explodes with the taste of you. There's an ache in his jaw that already builds, but Miguel's Spider-Man; he's dealt with worse things, he's not going to let a little ache stop him from devouring you.
So he does. Through your pretty sounds—of which one might accuse Miguel of being biased, to which he would respond by throwing them off the top of a skyscraper—Miguel licks away at the tightness of your hole, loosens you up. Spit dribbles from your fluttering hole, the coarse hair that surrounds the winking jewel slick with his spit, the skin stretched taut from how Miguel has you spread.
"Taste s' good," Miguel murmurs, voice low in the way that has you trembling and shuddering, a delicious shiver down your spine that Miguel catches with gleaming eyes. "Absolutely delicious."
You moan a little. You're panting and you feel hot, burning away in the best way possible. You turn your head to glance down at him, swallowing at the sight of his face practically buried within your ass, nose sitting on the small of your ass. He meets your eyes and doesn't stop, spreads you just a bit more and stares you down as his tongue all but plunges deep within your hole, as if he's trying to make you cum by his tongue alone.
It's not enough, but it gets you to moan, biting your lip and body flushing, a glob of pre dribbling from the tip of your cockhead from where it lays, pinned to the sheets by your belly. You clutch the pillow and spread your legs just a little bit more, hips jerking as you grind back on his tongue. Miguel lets you, and joins you when you moan, shuddering and curling your toes as his tongue prods at your sweet spot.
"Yeah?" You stutter out, licking your bottom lip, watching Miguel chase the action with gleaming eyes, his pupils blown and making your heart pick up. "You like how I taste, Miggy? Am I delicious?"
Miguel moans, the sound vibrating and making you shudder. Miguel licks a flat stripe up your hole before pulling away to respond. Slick coats his chin; he's panting and all he can taste is you, thick and heavy on his tongue, mouth watering.
"Absolutely delicious." Miguel repeats as a smug smirk tugs onto his face. It distinctly reminds you of a cat who got the cream, and you roll your eyes. You look away and nuzzle your face into the pillow. It's Miguel's, you realize, the stale scent of his musk and even staler scent of his cologne clogging your nostrils. You give a little jerk and a muffled gasp when you feel something cool drizzle onto your hole.
Lost in your thoughts and in Miguel's scent, you didn't hear the rustling of the sheets nor the sound of the bottle of lube opening, only ever feeling the cool drizzle. When you look up, Miguel's mischievous and smug expression makes you give him a glare. It lacks any heat.
"Glitch." You sneer his way, and Miguel gives a small laugh. One of his fangs snag on his lower lip, and he looks a little stupid; it makes your heart flutter. You look away just as he subconsciously unsnags his tooth, resting your head on the pillow as his hand—large, calloused, and shocking warm—spreads you open, giving him easier access to your hole that subconsciously flutters from the feeling of the slick, sticky liquid dribbling over it.
"We're almost out of lube." Miguel idly comments as he caps the bottle and throws it to the side. His eyes glimmers as he took a moment to ogle at the side of the lubricant coating your hole, before he slipped a finger in, barely meeting any resistance.
Your breath stutters at the intrusion; how it slipped inside, so slick, shock, how it felt.
"Mm, do we?" You sigh out, squeezing around his finger before relaxing. "LYLA, mind ordering a new bottle?"
Miguel blinks. His eyebrows furrow a little. "Don't call her—"
The AI in question appears in a warm twinkle, forgoing her usual outfit in favor of a robe and a face mask. It makes you give a little smile, both amused at the AI's antics and at your husband's disgruntlement.
"Do you want the same bottle?" LYLA asks with a smug smirk, amused at Miguel's embarrassment. "Eight ounces for nine dollars—not including tax— ooh, wait. There's a sale for a thirty-three ounce botte for twenty five dollars if you buy two."
A little panel pops up with the two options, and you glance over at them, lazily eyeing them. Miguel frowns, but doesn't stop working you open with his fingers, two fingers flexing. A brush against your prostate has you sighing, content and feeling like a lazy, overstuffed cat.
"Why would we need two? That's too much lube." Miguel says and you and LYLA share a look that doesn't go unnoticed. "What?"
"That's a dumb thing to say." You say, amused. Miguel narrows his eyes. He opens his mouth but LYLA beats him to it with a thickly amused voice.
"How many times are you pawing at [Name]?" LYLA says, egging him on as her form glitches. "How many times are you on him? How many times do you have to resort to using your own saliva because you don't have lube?"
Miguel's silence and embarrassed look has you turning your head to muffle your laughter. Heat blooms to Miguel's ear tips and across his face, lips pulling into his signature scowl, not meeting the artificial eyes of the twinkling hologram hovering near his shoulder.
LYLA looks equally smug and amused, also looking like the cat who got the cream. After a moment of getting yourself together, you finally turn your attention back to them.
"Just get the two bottles. It's a better deal. Besides, go big or go home, right?" You say, teasing as you moved your hips, the action getting Miguel's attention. The man rolls his eyes, but his scowl melts into a small smile, finally adding another finger. It's a slight burn that makes you shudder and sigh, lips curling into a lazily pleased smile.
"Right. Go big." Miguel repeats, and LYLA rolls her eyes but takes it as her cue to whizz away. He still has a large hand spreading you open, fingers working you loose. He leans forward and drapes his larger form over your body, all hard muscles and soft fat feeling nice and warm, the feeling of his thick, fuzzy hair brushing against your skin.
He's warm and feels nice. His scent curls around you as he nuzzles his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing your scent. It makes him dizzy and feel light headed.
"You feel good?" He asks. His voice is low and it rumbles deep within his chest, makes you shiver in a good way. His fingers—large and thick—only add to the feeling.
"Mhm," You hum, inhaling before slowly exhaling. "Feels good. Would feel even better if you picked up the pace."
You smile when Miguel gives a quiet scoff, feel the hand spreading you open grip just a little bit tighter and his fingers curl just a little bit harder.
"I think you just need to be a little more patient." Miguel huffs, lacking any heat, feeling the telltale sign of a smile brush against your back. You give a little chuckle.
"That's funny coming from you." You say, sniggering when Miguel groans and pulls away.
"I think you should be a little nicer to me considering my fingers are in your ass, and, y'know, I'm going to fuck you?" Miguel replies, and you can't stop the heavy amusement that curls into your chest at the amount of sass coating his words.
"You're right, you're right." You say, unable to hide your amusement. You nudge him away and he gets the memo—clever idiot—and pulls his fingers away. It makes you feel empty for a moment, but the comfort of knowing his dick will soon fill it has the feeling running away.
You turn yourself around with a huff, now laying on your back. Your head is propped on the mountain of pillows—which is just five pillows, really, two for each one and a single pillow you trade from day to day. You lay content on the bed, spreading your nude body.
Miguel is watching you like a hawk, pupils blown. His eyes trail over your body, over your chest and stomach and your weeping cock and thighs and legs. It makes you feel warm, but in a shocking good way. When Miguel looks up and catches your eyes, you grin.
"Thoughts?" You ask, and watch him thickly swallow. It makes your heart swell to know that just your body alone has him nervous.
"You look good." Miguel says, flustered and embarrassed, but unable to look away as his eyes glance down to your body once more. It still boggles his mind on how he got so lucky with you. How you stuck with him despite the packages of trauma and issues he has, how you stuck with him despite every single flaw he has. You could've done so much better and yet-
"Hey."
Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts before it gets too dark. His eyes snap to your face, meets your eyes, and they're soft. Soft, warm, and dark with heavy affection—affection that's reserved for him. It makes him weak.
"You alright?" You ask, and your voice silences any nasty voice in his head, chases away the monsters that follow him. Miguel feels something warm settle in his core. It's a feeling he doesn't feel very often, at least not before he met you.
Safety. Affection.
Love.
"Yeah," Miguel replies, breathless as he gathered himself. His hands slide to your thighs and grips them—not harshly, just to hold them, feel the muscles flex and soft flesh squeeze. "Just... thinking."
You raise an eyebrow, a silent question if he wants to talk. Miguel slowly blinks, like how cats do. God, he's never beating the cat allegations, is he?
"I love you." Miguel says, and watches how your eyes practically light up. You giggle, heat rushing to your face, and Miguel gives a little scoff even as his own face lights up.
"Well aren't you a sweetie?" You say, teasing but in an affectionate way. You spread your legs and let Miguel slot between them, let him cast his body over yours, arm resting beside you and caging you in. Your hands runs from his back—running over the hardened muscles that flex—and into his hair, over the soft strands. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, smiling, even as he gives a low sound of approval.
"I love you, too." You say, pressing a kiss to his jawline and actively avoiding his lips. Miguel hums, eyes fluttering shut in content as you pepper kisses along his face. One hand in particular slithers down, tracing over the coarse hair on his torso and over the soft flesh hiding hard muscles, and down to his cock.
"Shock!" Miguel moans; it's sharp and breathless, unexpected as his eyes snap open, eyes wide. You give him a teasing smile, hand wrapping around his girthy cock and slowly rubbing his head. You trace the angry vein running along the length, scooping up the pre that dribbles out and using it as lubricant as you lightly jerked him off.
"[Name]...!" Miguel groans, biting his lower lip as he shudders, back arching. His hips jerks as he tries to restrain himself, foreskin riding over his cockhead with every pump of his cock. A low moan escapes his mouth when your finger circles his cockhead and your thumb slides along the slit to scoop at his cum.
He watches with blown eyes as you pop your finger into your mouth, eyes glittering as you made a show of swallowing it. You gave him a smug smile and Miguel moans, jerking his cock into your fist.
"Please, please, please let me fuck you." Miguel groans, pleads, panting already as you slowly pumped. You hum before pressing a kiss to his jaw once more, grinning viciously, releasing his cock.
"C'mon then, fill me up." You hum, teasing but also serious. Miguel quietly groans underneath his breath, shuffling back to grasp at his own cock. He pumps his cock, foreskin rolling over his cockhead with each motion as pre dribbled out like a teardrop. You watch with dark, needy eyes, your own cock twitching over your belly, pre pooling.
Miguel is breathing heavily when he grabs your hip and lines himself up. Your hole is loose and wet with both his spit and lube, eagerly awaiting his cock. He swallows and takes a deep breath, eyes glancing up to watch your face as he slips in.
Your eyes are locked below, biting your lip as his cockhead prods at your hole. It's big and girthy, and despite him opening you up with both his fingers and tongue, there's always a resistance. But eventually, as always, it gives in and his cockhead buries itself in your hole. It leaves both you and Miguel breathless; the burn is pleasant and makes you lightly shake, cock weeping. Miguel has to restrain himself from pushing it all the way in, tightening his head on your waist.
"Shock." Is all you can say after a moment, panting as your eyes fluttered pleasantly. You groaned underneath your breath, squirming on the bed to feel more comfortable. Miguel lets you and fixes himself after you've settled down. He grabs a leg and raises it so it sits on his shoulder; the new position gives him a better angle, makes it easier to slip in and bump into all the good spots.
Speaking of which...
"You can move now, Miggy," You say with a quirk of your lips, watching him with dilated pupils. Miguel grunts underneath his breath and takes precaution as he tightens his hold on both your leg and his cock, and pushes in.
You take a deep breath as you feel his cock slide in, inch by inch, stretching your hole around his girth. One particular movement has his cockhead planting a firmly kiss against your prostrate, and it makes you give a deep, guttural moan. Your fingers clutch at the bedsheets and you toes curl, makes you squeeze around Miguel's cock.
And that has Miguel hunching over, a breathless whimper falling from his lips as he slammed the last few inches in. It makes you groan a curse, back arching and clenching around Miguel, cocks weeping.
"Holy shock," You breath out, tingling all over and feeling like you're on cloud nine. Instinctively, your hand lands on your belly and right over the small bump. Miguel's eyes fall on the bump, an all too familiar sight whenever you both decide to screw around, and an even more familiar possessive and smug sight gleams in his eyes.
"Might as well have teared me in half, Migs..." You mutter, still breathless as your heart pounds against your chest. Not the first nor the last time, his cock throbs inside your hole, and he gives a little nudge of his hips that has his cockhead knocking against your prostrate.
"Shocking hell!" You groan, and Miguel simply grins. He leans down and lays an arm next to your face, releasing your leg as he laid his other arm next to it, too. He's caged you in and presses a kiss to your lips, one that lingers and turns into a make out session when you grip the back of his head.
Your moaning into each other's mouths when he begins to move, slow but deep thrusts that practically puncture your lungs. Each thrust is a kiss against your prostrate, has you pulling away and moaning.
Miguel stuffs his face within the juncture of your neck and shoulder, panting and groaning underneath his breath. Your gummy walls felt divine around his cock; squeezing him so tightly, as if refusing to let go of him with every thrust of his hips. They were warm and slick with lube, like an eternal warm cavern built solely for his cock.
You whimper into his mouth when his cockhead bumps against your prostate, toes curling. Your cock lays on your belly, weeping at the tip, a small pool of cum collecting on your belly. One of your arms curl around Miguel's neck, and you raise your head to press a kiss to his jaw.
"Feel s'good, baby," Miguel groans out, voice low timbered and rumbly. Sweat trickles down his head, hair slick with sweat and damp. His eyes are glazed over, gleaming with lust. He's still caging you in with his body alone, cock hammering into you. Each thrust bumps his cock against your prostate, and you moan.
"Yeah?" You breathe out, hot and panting. You feel like you're on cloud nine. The bump in your belly disappears and reappears with each thrust, and it makes you thickly swallow.
"Yeah," Miguel grunts out. He suddenly pulls away just to grab your legs and pin them to your chest. Your eyes widen at the action, and before you can make a comment or two, Miguel's fingers tighten around your legs as he suddenly picks up the pace.
"Miguel!" You squeal out, sharply gasping and breaking into a guttural moan when he begins to pummel into your hole. His thrusts are harsh and deep, borderline rough as if he's determined to give you the fucking of your life, as if his goal is to have you impregnated despite the lack of necessary genitalia. No matter, the thought has you moaning, eyes rolling back as you succumbed to your lust.
Miguel's no better, mouth hanging open as he panted, drool slowly dripping down his chin. His mind is fogged with you, you, you, the only thought being the need to breed you, to stuff you full of his cock until you're overflowing with his cum. Your walls are divine around his length, squeezing and tugging him, as if you don't want him to pull out.
Miguel moans, leaning down to stuff his face into the crook of your neck, kissing it. You moan, panting, and bare your throat for him. Miguel licks a flat stripe up your throat before closing his mouth around it and sucking on it. The moan that slips from your throat makes your throat vibrate in his mouth.
"Shock, Mi- Miguel!" You sobbed out, shaking hands coming up to curl into his hair and tug him up. Miguel lets go of your throat with a low growl, one that gets swallowed up when you press your lips against him.
It's messy, one with clinking teeth and wet tongues dancing around each other, spit dribbling down your respective chins. One particular thrust has you groaning into his mouth, one that gets higher when Miguel releases a leg to instead wrap his hand around your cock.
He pumps your length in time with his thrusts, long strokes that has you practically sobbing into his mouth. Your dance on the edge of an orgasm, pulling away from the kiss with a sharp gasp and a whiny moan, hips jerking into his palm. Miguel watches you with dark eyes, brimming with arousal and possessive affection, something in his chest warm at the thought that all of this was just for him and him alone.
Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, walls tightening around his cock, teetering on painful.
"Miguel, I'm gonna cum-" You sob out, the only warning you give him before you're curling your legs around his waist and digging your heel into him, forcibly digging his cock deeper just as your cock jumps in his hand and begins to squirt out cum. The sight, the feeling, everything has Miguel groaning your name, balls deep as his cock begins to throb inside of your hole, as he begins to cum.
You're not sure what happens after that. You figured you blacked out for a moment, only to wake up and come to your senses when you feel Miguel collapse on top of you.
Your body is pleasantly buzzing, aftershocks of your orgasm making you tingle. Miguel's laying on top of you, head buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder, panting and warm. Sweat pools on both your body, and it's overly warm, you feel like you might pass out again.
"LYLA, can you turn up the AC, please?" You call out, wincing at your croaky voice. The AI doesn't respond nor appear, but you both feel and hear the AC turn up a notch. "Thanks, girl."
Miguel begins to stir, low sounds escaping his mouth as he turns his head, still resting it on you. You greet him with a scratch to his head.
"Hey, Miggy, you okay?" You keep your voice low, exhaustion nipping at you, but the need to see how your husband feels over rides it for a moment.
Miguel makes a low sound again, eyes lazily fluttering. He looked tired but blissed out, content, with no dark thoughts to keep him from relaxing.
"I feel you, baby," You hum, stroking his head. You feel his soft cock still buried in your hole, plugging up his cock. Your cock lays buried beneath Miguel's body, and you swear you can feel your cum cooling up. You wince.
"Feel like taking a shower?" You ask him.
Miguel's quiet for a moment before he speaks. "No." His words are slurred and his voice is rumbly, croaky, content but tired.
You blink and give a quiet scoff of amusement. "What do you mean, no?"
"I feel too good to get up and shower. In the morning. Or later. What time is it?" You blink down at him, and softly snort, a fond smile curling on your face. Your arms curl around his neck, your other hand scratching at his scalp. Miguel presses into your hand like an oversized cat.
"Oh, Migs," You coo. "My ass was just too much for you, huh?" You sigh, fondly. " Okay, Miguel, we can shower when we wake up."
Miguel doesn't respond, and you get why when you feel him go slack against your body, breathing goes steady and deep. You can't stop yourself from leaning down and kissing the top of his head, smile curled up on your face.
#mr. o'whora's works !#miguel o'hara x male reader#miguel ohara x male reader#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara#miguel x male reader#miguel 2099#miguel 2099 x male reader#spiderman 2099 x male reader#top miguel o'hara x male reader#miguel o'hara x bottom male reader#x male reader#mlm#gay#x bottom male reader#top male character
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Awww but wait I wouldn’t mind cute little headcanons with Anaya and Soona, just playing around, mealtimes, hunting/foraging and all around messing about. The both of them are so sweet
DO NOT TOUCH ME I AM IN MY FEELS. You know, you can totally see these as Soona x Reader and Anaya x Reader and I just realized that in my bisexual haze goodbye.
Soona teaching you how to weave.
Bless her heart for having the patience to show you how to do it. The first few times, your baskets came out absolutely horrid to the point where they really didn't look like baskets. The way that her fingers moved so intricately, how she brought the twine up to her face and narrowed her green gaze, the freckles along brow, along her cheeks and into the fur around his jaw, her face shifting with the expression of centralized focus. You found it hard to put your mind at ease, and to just watch the weaving as she spoke to you in such a gentle tone, explaining the pattern for how to weave properly, tightly knitting it together so it didn't fall apart.
Now... Admittedly, your baskets... They were just an entanglement of roughly put together, thinly sliced pieces of slated wood. Soona was encouraging though - She just tells you that it comes with time and that the more you make, the better they're going to get. The smile she gives you? The light grazing of her hand against your forearm in support? Definitely leaves you buzzing a small bit and you try again.
And again.
And again.
Until it finally comes out right and resembling a basket of sorts. A bit lopsided, it teeters back and forth searching for balance when it was placed on the ground but you're still proud. And from the hoots that Soona gave you when you pulled the basket from behind your back to present to her? The pure satisfaction that you were able to impress her leaves you reeling as she inspects the basket with happiness, giving you a brief smile. "Told you... you could do it."
Anaya trying to impress you.
Your fingers grazed along the surface of a rusted beam - beaten to disfigurement by the sun of three-hundred years and the weather to follow. Noa and Anaya were talking as Soona listened in. Despite your transfixed eyes on the ruined building next to you, you could hear them chattering about who was going to be the one to carry you up to the ladened Eagle Nests above. Noa figured himself - it was often him. He was slightly bigger than Anaya, had a bit more strength, and it was always him chosen. But, Anaya came in hot with an argument it seemed, backed up by Soona who was encouraging him.
Anaya huffed slightly at Noa and muttered under his breath, only enough for you to pick up a few words. 'Want to' and 'can do it'. You blinked when your name was echoed through the hallway of the ruined buildings. You smiled at them and took your fingers away from the thought that the ruins you were standing in were somehow twisted into your own personal self- being an Echo and all.
"Anaya," The Chimp said in self-declaration, his chest puffing out rather cutely, "carry Echo today."
You looked between Soona and Noa, a small expression of surprise hitting your cheeks at that as you finally drew to look at Anaya who was standing bi-pedal in front of you, his eyes full of nerves as he darted his gaze between your eyes and your chest - trying to see if you were nervous about him taking you and not Noa.
"You better not drop me," You whispered only to him in.a joking tone and found yourself almost entranced at the look Anaya gave you back as you flanked around him and hiked your body onto his back as you so often did with Noa. Anaya assisted, hesitance evident in how he helped you upwards, not sure where his hands were allowed to go, not sure if something was not okay. He staggered at that once you were fully against him, not used to weight but eventually the muscles in his legs became quickly adapted to the nature of your weight and he smiled to himself.
"Anaya does not drop," You tucked your knees into his side and held on for what felt like dear life as the Apes began their ascent. "Only Noa does. Sometimes." Anaya looked right over at his friend with what could only be described as a smug smile before trailing ahead of both Noa and Soona with a yap, hoot and howl. All the while, with your hands grasped tightly to him and as long as you avoided looking down, you found yourself able to smile and laugh ( not out of nerves, thank goodness ) along with Anaya as he slanted along the building with ease and skill, leaving you rather breathless once you got to the top.
How about another Berry Foraging with our Sunset Trio.
It was a lot more of a strenuous process than you were willing to admit. The torment of your spine curving as you had been in a crouched position for far too long began to take a toll and you felt a deep-set burning sensation in your tailbone was not to be taken lightly as you stood up and stretched it out, placing your hands on the small of your back and pressing inwards with a small groan. Soona watched you with great interest - the position of crouching was so natural to her, to most Apes in fact, that the fact that you were unable to stay squatted for more than ten minutes at a time was somewhat funny to her.
She gave you a look of affable mention and looked down at her basket of berries, "Very good Anaya is not over here," She picked a few ripe blueberries with skill as you turned to crouch next to her. The heat eradicating your face felt good as you leaned in towards her subconsciously. "Eats them all before we get home. Always.... Noa so mad, Anaya so scared from Noa being mad."
The visual itself made you laugh as you could see it playing out rather vividly in front of you. Vividly, and then literally as Noa and Anaya came into view. The latter was holding a bustle of berries and was eating them, obviously mocking the Eagle Clan leader who muttered something about, 'How are you eating that many?' That only spurred Anaya to shove the entire contents of his hand into his mouth in a rather juicy display as he began chewing the berries and maintaining eye contact with Noa. Noa snapped playfully, rearing his friends chest and taking them both down, rolling further down the hill behind them with a loud clattering of howls and hoots, huffs soon followed as the two of them began laughing.
Soona just looked at you, and you looked at her. Boys will be boys, is what the shared gaze said as you two grazed further to get Soona's basket full before Anaya came to pick at them.
#noa#soona#anaya#planet of the apes#planet of the apes x reader#noa x reader#soona x reader#anaya x reader#pota#kingdom of the planet of the apes#kotpota#emmy writes#fanfiction#fanfic
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