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mynamesaplant · 10 months ago

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Forgiveness is Electric

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

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“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

#pokemon #submas #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #sorry critter #i started writing about Tynamo before i remembered he probably didn't have it by that point #im just gonna say newly acquired and cross my fingers #tynamo is shy #nobody knows about it #🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

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milkcos · 7 months ago

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lemonade mouth/band au! more notes under the cut

lemonade as in like the disney movie! so there are a couple like clear comparisons but mostly it's the bad kids get stuck in detention together except they form a band instead of an adventuring party

fabian > no equivalent (olivia vibes)

the most popular kid at school who is both in dance and on the football team. somehow gets decent grades as well. no close friends, but a lot of people who know him and want to get on his good side. kind of depressed, and his dad's currently in prison. he started playing the guitar as a way to show off and then genuinely started enjoying it

adaine > mo

she's a concert violist (playing the viola) always an accompaniment for her sister and is striking it out on her own for the first time. her family is very upset about this, and consistently puts her down so she'll go along with they want her to do. also she recently transitioned to going to public school for the first time, making her the new girl.

kristen > no equivalent

she's recently ex mormon, got out of her parents house (currently living in her car) and without all of her former friends stuck in a student president position that she got when she was still with the religion. questioning her sexuality after one too many encounters with the soccer team captain, tracker. used to be on the church choir, was a bit too enthusiastic about it.

gorgug > no equivalent (charlie vibes)

he's got like one or two kinda friends (mainly fig). extremely busy with his classes and with marching band and self isolating as a result. he's stressed out about living up to his parent's name (they run a very successful electric engineering company). signed up to work as a sound tech for the theatre department bc one of the female stage managers is very cute (zelda) and then discovered that he rlly like it.

riz > no equivalent

no friends! (other than maybe the AV club + penny) too used to burying himself in work at both his part time gig and with his insane amount of extracurriculars. started playing the piano bc he heard it helps with memory retention and overall cognitive ability.

fig > stella/wen

she's the cool loner skater kid who is the floater friend mostly? she's got a maybe relationship with ayda, who she loves to annoy at the school library. very interested in making her own music not very interested in school. freaking out over her parents getting remarried. her mom enrolled her in music lessons when she was younger, and it's one of the only things she can talk about with her mom these days.

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minkieater · 26 days ago

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spiderhead → yj

tattoo artist!yeonjun x fem!reader

smut mdni, cheating, alcohol consumption, toxic relationship wc. ~6k

the buzz from tattoo guns spread across the room as if there were a swarm of bees — the shop was busy today. yeonjun’s mouth tasted of tobacco and menthol, his favorite combination, his index and middle fingers stained with the scent from years of use. he rain a hand through his hair, feeling the ends tickle his neck, before burying both hands in the soft, fleece lined pocket of his hoodie.

he made his way over to his station, checking his tools, cleaning up the area so he could prepare for his next client. the steps whirled in his head as they always did when he fixed his area: wash his hands, put gloves on, sterilize his tools, cover his equipment, disinfect all surfaces. he loved this part, the organization, having everything accessible to make his art easier to complete.

god, yeonjun loved his fucking job. just the plain idea of him drawing and coloring on people’s bodies, having his art stay there forever, it was magical to him. yeonjun knew in high school that he wanted to be a tattoo artist — he bought a shitty tattoo gun online, spent his weekends drunk in beomgyu’s basement leaving wonky doodles on his friends in places no one would ever see. at parties, people would beg him to whip out the tattoo gun, implore him to etch small designs on their skin on the big leather couch in soobin’s parents’ house.

those nights turned into lonely ones spent in his bedroom, cross hatching lines into fake skin on his desk, shading with pointillism in designs he’d seen on pinterest, smoke from his lit joint dancing into the air of his bedroom. he had a year long apprenticeship at a tattoo shop in the middle of brooklyn when he turned nineteen, he tried college for a year when he graduated high school but quickly realized it just wasn’t for him. now, four years later, he was thriving: he was booked, he was busy, he was a real fucking tattoo artist and made real fucking money.

he grabbed his phone to check the time before he started disinfecting, only five more minutes before his client was supposed to show. he scrolled his lock screen, eyes thinning when he read the notifications.

v: did u turn the lights off before u left v: if my electric bill is high again just know you’re paying that shit

his lips pulled into a line, thumbs moving a mile a minute.

yj: yes i turned them off yj: u dont have to remind me every single day

he locked his phone and set it face down on the counter that ran along the back of the shop, packed cabinets filled with saran wrap, disinfectant and ink caps underneath. he shook his head, irritation flooding his thoughts, he’d left the lights on one time and now he’ll never hear the end of it.

well over a year now, together but still not quite official — on and off but pretty much living together, yeonjun has spent more time in your bushwick apartment than he has at his own downtown. granted the shop was closer to your apartment than his own, but he’s always liked your apartment more, anyway. tall ceilings, funky art, maps and concert posters on the walls, a unique touch to your living space with your red lacquered kitchen cabinets and dark wood accents where his own looked cheesy and cheap in comparison.

two bedrooms, one full bathroom and a separate room just for the television and couch, yeonjun thought you were fucking loaded when he first stepped foot in your apartment. it had to be your parents paying your bills, or maybe you were a nepo baby – this is new york, after all – but as your relationship grew and he learned more about your occupation, how much you truly made between high commission and tips, he’d never thought a hairstylist could make so much fucking money.

both of you in your careers, working full time with the public, both creative people that spend their days creating art that lives on people’s bodies. your canvases were humans, walking, breathing pieces of scrap paper that you drew on, painted on, poked, cut, shaded. the two of you related to one another too much in too many areas, on too many levels, so many conversations about people and their critiques, their wishes, their families, their stories. if you and yeonjun could do anything, it was talk.

you’d met on your twenty first birthday, a little over a month after yeonjun’s twenty second. you and your girl friends and coworkers he later learned circled up on the dance floor with you in the middle, rolling your hips to the beat of the song, head tipped back in a drunken haze and a cocktail in your hand. he eyed you from the bar, thinking nothing of it other than the fact that you were a drunk twenty one year old about to be obnoxiously loud in his ear all night. he sipped his glass of whiskey, neat, tattooed fingers wrapping around the glass that dripped sweat onto his palm.

the bar was hot, too hot for the outfit he had on — oversized black hoodie with the hood over his head, black pants, boots on his feet. he was dressed for early november in new york, layered to fight off the chill of brooklyn, not for whatever the hell was going on in his favorite bar.

you approached him first, slurring over your words, tucking your hair behind your ear which was already tucked. you batted your eyelashes, your eyes glossed over in intoxication — yeonjun was not biting, he wasn’t interested in the slightest. he gave you a tight lipped smile, clinked his glass with your own and turned his attention away from you, a small gesture to say what you’re looking for is not me, keep it moving.

but when you strolled into his shop two weeks later as a walk-in and yeonjun had a cancellation, only then was he taking the bait, the bait you had no idea you were dangling from a hook right in front of his own two eyes. you didn’t seem to recall your interaction on your birthday, you didn’t seem to recognize yeonjun at all and that only made him curious.

you asked for a ruler along your index finger, two lines to show the public what two inches really is. he laughed at that, a small puff of amusement leaving his perfect plump lips just as the words left yours.

“is that stupid?” you asked, head cocked to the side, eyebrows furrowed in question but your eyes wide and he swore he could see them shine as you looked up to him. he was taken then, from just that one look in your eyes – he knew he was in trouble.

“not at all,” he said as she shook his head, smile still dancing on his cheeks, “it’s funny, i’ll take you back.”

you sat down on the bench, yeonjun went searching for a ruler in the cabinets lining the back of the shop. you spoke mindlessly about your job as he searched, immediately telling him a story about a client you had a few days ago who wanted a balayage and not highlights but they couldn’t decipher between the two — they insisted on highlights when what they were describing was clearly a balayage. you spoke with such enthusiasm, your mouth running a mile a minute, words spilling from your lips just as fast as you thought them.

yeonjun had no idea what you were talking about but he knew you were adorable — much different from when you first tried to pick him up at that bar. your eyes are bright, words controlled, movements sharp and alert. what did stay the same was the confidence, your outward extrovertedness made it so yeonjun didn’t have to say much, just nodding and listening to your little story as he tried his best to keep his head on straight.

“finger tattoos don’t last as long as they do on other parts of the body,” he interrupted as your story ended, finally pulling a small red plastic ruler from the cabinet to his left.

you shrug, “i figured as much, my hands are in water a lot, too.”

yeonjun sucked a breath in through his teeth, “that makes it even worse.”

“so what, i have to come back and get it touched up, then? big deal,” your hands came up at your sides, shrugging altogether, “as long as you still work here when i have to get it touched up then it’s fine.”

“already commending my work when i haven’t even done the tattoo yet?” yeonjun wears a lazy, teasing smile as he sits down on his stool, grabbing the arm rest for you to lay your forearm on.

“who said i was talking about the tattoo?” yeonjun’s eyes shot up at you who was already wearing a smirk, his lips parted ever so slightly. he immediately cracked a smile, shaking his head as he looked back down to your hand.

“that’s crazy,” he mumbled under his breath as he put the ruler up to your finger, then grabbed his pen from his tray to mark the inches. maybe you did know — maybe you were purposely dangling the bait, or maybe the two of you just had the same amount of interest in each other. maybe there was no bait to begin with.

“i don’t think it's crazy,” he didn’t expect you to hear him or respond, but it seems you don’t have a filter of any kind as you keep going, “you’re hot, i’m hot, we have a lot in common already.”

“we have a lot in common?” he raised an eyebrow, looking up to you again after marking the second inch, he grabbed a different pen to mark the eighths.

“we’re both creative, both work with the public, we have picky people as clients, have to listen to unrealistic expectations, both work in careers that aren’t super common — not common, maybe abnormal? or maybe i’m trying to say we can be abnormal because our careers aren’t super judgemental? appearance wise, i guess, whatever, anyways, we also both know how to talk to people, i can keep going…”

“so all we have in common are our careers?” he’s still playing along as he finishes marking out the lines, “how does that look?”

“looks good to me,” you say after a quick glance, barely an inspection of your finger, “pretty much, but our careers teach us a lot about ourselves. oh! and we can do art trades, i’ll do your hair and you give me tattoos.”

“are you bribing me or pimping yourself out?” the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and the smile that paints itself on your face feigns innocence, he’d save that look for his sketchbook later tonight.

“maybe a little bit of both. are either of them working?” you cocked your head to the side again, swinging the feet that hung from the bench ever so slightly, careful not to kick anything in front of you. yeonjun had to reel himself in.

yeonjun had to be honest — with himself, and you — it started working the moment you stepped into the shop. you had no visible tattoos, a casual outfit on, sweatpants and a tee shirt that left just a sliver of skin between the hems of your clothes. your hair was done but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, you didn’t seem like anything special off first glance– in fact, you seemed the exact opposite of his type, the girls he usually went for. yeonjun was just as confused with himself as he was enamored by you.

“i don’t know, i think you might have to try a lil’ harder,” he faked a deciding face, eyebrows scrunched as he moved back in his stool, ushering for you to stand up. he looked at your finger from all angles, analyzing it as you stood to the side, lifting your hands, flexing your fingers as you stood. he was happy with his sketch, his outline, he was more then prepared to freehand a couple lines.

“you should let me try harder over some drinks if the tattoo comes out good,” your eyes were trained on your hand as you followed his instructions, moving your hands into every position he asked for.

yeonjun laughed at that, “if the tattoo comes out good? what, am i the one picking you up now?”

you shrugged as he ushered you to sit back down, “you might be, i’m trying to find out.”

he nodded with his lips pursed, folded into a frown that wasn’t exuding any sort of negative reaction, more impressed than anything. “fair game.”

your tattoo came out flawless, the lines he free handed onto your finger came out straight, perfect in thickness. as easy as it seemed, you knew the talent it took, the patience and a steady hand needed for such precision. after you paid, tipping him generously, your flirting returned with vengeance.

“i think we hit it off if i’m being honest,” you smiled, showing all of your teeth to the black haired man behind the counter, “do you have anyone else after me?”

he shook his head, “you’re my last, i had a cancellation.”

“oh my god– do you believe in fate? yeonjun, i think that’s what this is, i’m being so serious,” your eyes were wide, eyebrows shot up, smile wide. excitement bled from you, your veins, you were nothing but honest. so shameless, not a thought in your pretty little head that he’d reject you – he wasn’t sure if you’d care if he did.

he laughed, something he seemed to do too much during your entire service, his head hanging low in front of him before he picked it back up, looking at you who was already staring expectantly at him. “i don’t, but maybe if we go get drinks you can change my mind.”

you raised your fists, “i’ve won.”

the bar was halfway to your apartment, almost smack ass between the tattoo shop and your place. you’d been there before with your girlfriends, once or twice since your birthday – you could finally join in on the fun. yeonjun was dressed in all black, you’d soon come to find out he was always dressed in all black, and he never looked like he got enough sleep. you seemed so bright next to him, with your hair and your clothes and the plush keychains attached to your purse. you looked like total opposites, when you knew you had much more in common than what meets the eye.

that one night bled into the next year of your lives – something he was not expecting after your first interaction. it’s not like he’s never had a client try to bag him before, but something about you was different, it drove him insane that he couldn’t put a finger on it. he was used to playing games, always the winner, never the loser. he was used to confusion, being stuck in the inbetween, the gray area that sometimes came with relationships, or lack thereof. with you it was so straight forward, a slippery slope, not a hole he dug himself into but instead a well, one full of water, full of life. he never wanted to stop drinking from it, gulp after gulp, chugging until he was so full he thought he might spill over.

the spilling didn’t come until six and a half months in. your first two months were every man’s wet dream – he had every inch of you, every fistful of perpetually iron-curled hair, every corner of plush skin burned to memory – on every surface of your apartment and his.

in yeonjun’s past relationships, he never seemed to be the problem. if anything, he was the victim.

small fights to massive blown out arguments over petty shit, staying out too late with his coworkers at his favorite bar to beomgyu stealing him for a night out clubbing, missed texts and phone calls to going MIA for three days. yeonjun never seemed to understand what the issue was – petty arguments were never his thing, he’d rather stay silent than give into whatever the fuck his current plaything was yelling about this time. so what if he stayed out too late with his coworkers? he still came home. there’s no harm in a night out clubbing with his boys, she didn’t even know about the girl that was grinding against his dick all night, or the other one that had her lipstick smeared across his lips in the corner of the dark club. he went MIA for three days because his phone was dead, not because he had her number blocked. it was ridiculous, really, the things women would try and pin on him – yeonjun never seemed to think he was the issue at all.

the thought never crossed yeonjun’s brain that these behaviors were learned, or that he could teach them to anyone else. he never thought that his pretty, bright eyed new girlfriend would turn into a different version of himself – if she did, he’d be grateful, he thought himself pretty fucking cool – yeonjun never thought any of his behaviors were bad, but when yeonjun got a taste of his own medicine he knew he met his match.

he showed up at your apartment past midnight, drunk off his ass, clothes oozing whiskey, weed and burberry her. he let himself in with his key, the one you gave him after three months in, the one you told him to use whenever he wanted. he called out your name, searching from room to room, but you were nowhere to be found. he’d never shown up to an empty apartment, there’s never been a lack of you, cuddled up in a fuzzy robe, either under your duvet or sitting on the couch watching reruns of your favorite drama. yeonjun was confused, his dazed head couldn’t think up a proper reason for your absence, he decided to do what he absolutely fucking hated to be done to him.

he called you about thirty six times, texted you about forty two times. he also left four voicemails, not one of them nice.

he sat there on your couch – after a much needed shower, a bottle of water and a change of clothes you kept for him in your bottom drawer, he sobered up real quick. he felt more level headed, but he couldn’t ignore the anger that began to grow, a pit that sat heavy in his stomach: where the fuck were you? who were you with?

you damn near fell into the room an hour later, keys falling to the floor after you ripped them out of the door. you giggled to yourself, your heels in your hands, fingers curled into the heel of your black pumps. the strapless, sparkly scrap of fabric he could barely call a dress was crooked, your hair that was always purposely styled to perfection was a mess, your red lipstick was smudged down your chin. yeonjun’s seen this scene before, he’s done it, he’s lived it.

“who fucked you?” were the first words that left his mouth as he stood in the living room, oversized black clothes hanging off his frame like hade’s robes. the breath that left his nostrils was hot, burning his cupid’s bow, his jaw locked with his usually plump lips scrunched to a thin line.

you laughed – you fucking laughed. “you’re a fucking psychopath, junie. i just came back from a night with the girls!”

yeonjun was not buying it – he stepped closer. the stench of alcohol was masked by dior sauvage, a smell he knew too well, a smell that drifted past him as you nearly pushed him out of your way. yeonjun was dumbfounded and raging, his eyebrows furrowed together, his hands held out in front of him like he didn’t know what to do with them.

his girl, his only girl – well, other than the girl he made out with earlier – he couldn’t fathom the thought of someone else’s hands on you, being so close to you that you came home smelling like him. he followed you to the bathroom.

you were already stripped down bare – no bra and no panties to be seen on the pile on the floor with that thin scrap of fabric, yeonjun couldn’t collect his thoughts fast enough, his rage was creeping up his spine, sitting in his stomach like food poisoning, threatening to come out whether he wanted it to or not.

“you’re lying,” was all he could get out as you brushed through your hair, putting it in a tight knot atop your head, a small smile still sitting on your cheeks. he didn’t sound angry enough, his voice wasn’t stable, his feelings weren’t enough to give his voice ground to stand on.

“no i’m not,” you said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, like your words were the honest to god truth. you turned to him, your best innocent look paired with that award winning smile, “wanna shower with me? or did you already when you came home from the club?”

yeonjun had a full body reaction, his eyebrows furrowed and his face scrunched up in disbelief and shock, for just a moment there he thought he might be insane. did he make that up? was the dior he smelled just remnants from being with beomgyu earlier? no, no he showered, that was all you. he was not insane. he stepped closer.

the smell of a shower he’d taken just an hour ago filled the room, the body wash that you always used was the only scent he could decipher. he took a breath, “you fucked someone.”

“i think you might still be drunk, baby,” you wore a fake pout, raising your right hand to run your thumb across his bottom lip, “happy anniversary, by the way. six months!”

that was the start of everything – his pretty little bright eyed girlfriend was buried somewhere, six feet deep in wet soil, replaced with something akin to a fucking monster. when yeonjun first met you, you had told him you had so much in common, yeonjun didn’t believe it, didn’t see it. he thought the two of you were polar fucking opposites, yet he liked you anyway, liked that you introduced him to a new type of relationship. while yeonjun spent six months subconsciously teaching you his own behaviors, you spent the time purposely teaching him quite a few of your own.

goodmorning texts to goodnight texts to facetime – yeonjun never did any of that shit before. yeonjun has never bought a single person a bouquet of flowers in his entire life. yet here you stood, his pretty little bright eyed girlfriend, in the middle of your salon surrounded by a herd of your coworkers with a bouquet signed ‘your junie <3 love you baby!’

his friends called him whipped, a simp, a cuck, every name in the fucking book because yeonjun adored you, and it was painfully obvious. you’d come to beomgyu’s garage, parading around in a mini skirt and your tiny little purse that yeonjun was sure only had lip gloss inside, getting him beers from the fridge and cracking them open, handing them to him with a smile and sitting straight on your throne: his lap. his friends adored you too, they couldn’t figure out what you saw in yeonjun – with his dark clothes, heavy tattoos that covered his body, bags under his eyes, black hair and too much metal through holes in his face. his friends were constantly flirting with you, getting you whatever you needed, they were the ones cracking beers and serving them to you, yet you were doing it for yeonjun.

yeonjun was filled with pride, he loved it. a trophy they could look at but never touch. he’d never had this type of relationship before, someone so obsessed with him, someone willing to wait on him hand and foot, he slipped deeper and deeper into an emotion he’d never experienced before without even realizing it.

the day he did realize it, that was when the true fun began, because while he was unconsciously slipping, swimming deeper into that well, you stood at the top, holding the rope, pulling bucket by bucket out of the well with that award winning, innocent smile etched into your skin.

you weren’t kidding when you said you’d do art trades, even his coworkers knew your face by now, taehyun two stations down always offered his services when you sat down on yeonjun’s bench. you giggled and flipped your hair, saying why would i do that when my boyfriend’s a better artist than you?

god, yeonjun loved to hear those words leave your lips. it was a bit the two of you did, taehyun acted as if he was shot through the heart, a poisoned arrow slipping straight through his skin, and yeonjun could hear the sweet melody of your giggle through the shop. yeonjun has filled up one of your arms by now and half of the other– a garden, flowers, bees, butterflies, tattoos that were so undoubtedly you he couldn’t even make fun of you for them. he wouldn’t expect you to have anything else.

his favorite, though, was the YJ right above your hip. it was in yeonjun’s own handwriting, a doodle he marked on your skin for life, late at night after too many drinks – it was like he was in high school again. that was four months in.

that night, yeonjun felt the closest thing to his entire world caving in on him – he needed to go. he stared at the scribble on your hip while his face was buried between your thighs, you were writhing above him, hands buried in his hair, you always looked so fucking gorgeous like that. instead of being focused on you, determined to push you over the edge like usual, yeonjun’s head was clouded – hazy. he wondered how a person he’d met by chance just a few months ago could become so important, so detrimental to his life, he feared he would be a shell of himself if you ever chose to leave him.

it terrified him. he’d never felt this way about anyone before.

before that night, your relationship was golden – yeonjun was something out of a dream, a hero, the prince in your story, you were convinced you’d spend your life with him. he was honest, he was smart, he told you everything that he had wrapped up in his complex, dark brain, and you accepted every word that came from his mouth, every thought that popped into his head.

when he left that night, hours after shoving a twelve gauge needle in your skin with ink the color of his hair, you didn’t stress. you woke with a panic, of course, where the hell did your boyfriend go? but after twelve hours of no response, a trip to his shop, a night spent in his favorite bar, hours bent over your ikea bed frame, you knew what this was. you recognized this fear, you saw straight through him, yeonjun wasn’t as masked as he thought himself out to be. you’d shared too much, you knew too much about one another for yeonjun to be anything but transparent.

you paid attention. late nights, coming home smelling like another woman’s perfume, earrings that fell from his pocket when you did laundry, long and short pink and blonde and brown pieces of hair found around every inch of your apartment – you looked at the tattoo that sat above your hip, you knew there was no one else for you in the world. if yeonjun wanted to play the game, you’d play it too, you’d play it better.

the first three or four or twenty two times you did it – yeonjun didn’t notice. you even sent him home in one of yeonjun’s tees, one of his favorites, one that you successfully convinced yeonjun he left at his own apartment. when he couldn’t find it there, it wasn’t your issue anymore – with half of your wardrobe in two different places, you’re bound to lose a shirt or two.

it was only when you got sloppy, when you wanted him to notice, that he did. two months in, six and a half months after your relationship began, he’d caught you and you were so fucking close to convincing him that he didn’t.

“we’re fucking done,” he was seething as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a plush beige towel around your torso, no effort needed to keep yourself calm.

“why’s that?” you continued to feign innocence, stepping in front of the mirror to start applying your skincare, not even glancing at the man who stood next to you, his hands balled into fists.

“i know you fucked someone tonight,” his voice was stern, it was hideous on him. you loved the cool, calm yeonjun better – you loved your yeonjun, the one you spent endless nights with, looking through his sketchbook, where he showed you all of his doodles, his drawings, when he let himself be the most vulnerable. “there’s no use in denying it, v.”

“and what have you been doing for the past two months, yeonjun?” your head snapped to look at him, your voice matching his, cadence slipping into something more harsh, laying yourself bare for him. you supposed your time was up. his mouth opened and closed.

“great,” his head dropped, low, sarcastic laughter slipping from his lips, “you fuck someone and blame it on me? project your cheating onto me?”

“there’s no use denying it, jun. have you talked to beomgyu? maybe you should ask him what he did after he dropped you off.”

you physically watched his face turn red – ears hot, crimson bubbling up from his chest to his throat to his face – you had to stop yourself from smiling. he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, and you slept like a baby. freshly fucked, coming down from a solid drunk, you felt brand new.

it was a week before you saw him again – honestly, you were shocked it took that long. that gorgeous, long black hair that curled around his ears, peeked from the hem of his hoodie, you longed to touch it, feel it between your fingers. he looked like he hadn’t slept since the last time he saw you, his bags sat heavy, dark, in your entryway, key in hand. you wanted to take care of him, wanted him to get a good night’s rest – next to you.

you sat on your couch, not a muscle to be moved in his direction, the two of you just stared at each other from across the room. moments went by, you’re sure maybe a full minute, then he was pacing towards you.

“hello?” you asked in disbelief and concern before he was pulling you up by your wrists, smashing his lips against yours. his lips tasted of whiskey, neat, cigarette smoke, menthol. you thought maybe you were addicted to tobacco too from the way his mouth felt euphoric against yours, an old friend you’d missed. it’s only been a week but it could’ve been a year for all you knew.

“you’re mine, you know that?” he’d asked between kisses, his mouth swallowing yours, his tongue stealing the words you couldn’t begin to think let alone speak. instead you nodded into his lips, fingers tangling in his hair, body forcing itself into his, you missed him. you missed his smell, his touch, the feeling of him against you, you missed everything. you never wanted to part from him again.

he had you split open on the couch as he knelt on the floor, head between your thighs again, eyes trained on the YJ that sat on your hip. he hadn’t seen it in a week, his brand on you, his initials that were inked into your skin for the rest of your life – he missed being between your legs, missed tasting you, missed taking everything you had to fucking offer. he missed you, his other half, the monster he created, his comfort, his home.

yeonjun would be lying if he said he was willing to part ways with you, but he’d also be lying if he said he was willing to acknowledge to the full extent of what he felt for you. yeonjun felt betrayed, played, messed with, like you snuck into his brain and plucked every single thought out of his head and fucking warped it. god, he loved you. he was so scared.

he told you as he barreled into you, fucking you like he hated you, whispering those words in a choked breath over and over into the shell of your ear. he couldn’t believe he was admitting it, couldn’t believe he was saying those three little words – you’re different, you’re everything. he loved you.

the months to follow were dancing right on the edge, together, but not quite. apart, but were you ever really apart? every night, wrapped in your sheets or his sheets – always someone’s sheets, always together. you never discussed sleeping with beomgyu, yeonjun never brought it up again, he looked back at that moment in his head and all he saw was weakness, a time where he let you slip away – let you get away from him. you never spoke of it, but it was always there, between the two of you like a wall.

that wall that stood between you was tall and rock solid, unlike the glass doors to yeonjun’s head, yeonjun’s thoughts, that wall of his was unbreakable – even when he came home smelling like burberry her again no argument in the world could pry that night out of him again.

you knew better this time than to try with beomgyu again, he hadn’t reached out since the night yeonjun left your apartment, you knew better than to try with anyone. instead of fighting fire with fire, you got distant, you spoke less, you asked less, you tried less. you became the ghost of his pretty, bright eyed girlfriend, one that had been to hell and back, one that learned from her mistakes. you became a reflection of yeonjun.

yeonjun checked his phone after his client, only two hours had gone by, surprisingly enough. it was a solid first session for his client’s leg sleeve, but his bones were aching, his eyes sore from being focused for so long.

v: you left the fucking lights on

#choi yeonjun #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun #tomorrow x together #txt smut #txt x you #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt #i have a crush on choi yeonjun

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laurenpedro01 · 2 years ago

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#business electricity price comparison

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energysolutionuk · 11 months ago

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local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti · 3 months ago

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This is an embarassingly bad paper based on the use of two aversive based dog trainers who are clearly incompetant in the use of +R - yet the e collar training community is taking a victory lap.

The fact that this got past an animal ethics review is honestly appalling and the university should be ashamed.

Let's go over the main huge flaws with this study:

The positive reinforcement protocol they are using to compare to e collars is laughably incompetant - with no management or use of distance, desensitisation. Just use a leash? Maybe?

Use of aversives to stop chasing is, unsurprisingly, effective. Because, yes, painful consequences tend to work to suppress behaviour. That isn't the problem that people have with e collars.

The author seems to think that use of e collars is justified because it "gets results" in a short amount of time to stop dogs chasing - again, apparently we haven't heard of a leash.

"Aside from presumably pain-induced yelps in the dogs with e-collars when they received shocks, none of the dogs in any groups showed any signs of stress or distress." So we're saying a pain vocalisation isn't a sign of distress? That's your welfare parameter? Jfc.

Love how they didn't even try to get fecal cortisol baselines and just collected samples from a few dogs but not all of them. You tried, I guess?

The fact that the trainers for the study is "Ivan and Ivan's Student" is ridiculously biased. Acting as if both these trainers know how to apply +R effectively as opposed to their heavy aversive tool use is laughable.

"We designed our study’s methods around current trainer practices as well as the recommendations of our senior trainer while attempting to keep continencies as simple as possible." - yeeeah that's a conflict of interest. Especially when your "senior trainer" has an axe to grind with R+ people using scientific papers to support their training methods.

You're chucking treats in a bowl after a few sessions and you think that's going to stop a dog chasing a lure? Oh yeah, you got us. We just throw kibble in a bowl to stop dogs running into traffic. I am genuinely floored that that's how they think a +R protocol for chasing works. They have no business comparing the two when they can't even do one properly.

"We also did not test whether the food rewards we deployed were highly valued." Okay so the majority of my client dogs will go nuts for my meaty high value treats because they've only had store bought dry treats and the client is shocked at how food motivated their dog suddenly is..... So this study was relying on whatever the guardian of the dog brought with them lmao rookie mistake.

"Dogs that chase livestock may be shot or otherwise euthanized, and dogs that chase cars may be killed in traffic." Put. Them. On. A. Leash.

"The practical applicability of either the LIMA or LIFE models is likely limited, at least in the United States where dog trainers are not required to be licensed or certified. In a sample of highly rated dog trainers, more than half did not document any relevant education." Does that include your "senior trainer"? It does. Because he doesn't have any formal education in canine behaviour, welfare and science. You know this. You chose him to be your trainer for your study.

"The speed and effectiveness with which the e-collar inhibited the dogs in this study from chasing may justify the limited number of painful stimulations the dogs experienced if the object the dogs were chasing had been something that could directly or indirectly cause them serious injury or death." Or..... OR.... you could not use electric shocks on your dog and potential cause long term damage, fear responses ect.... And use a leash.

Just baffled by this whole study. My high prey drive whippet will go feral for a lure but only when she knows the context for when she's being allowed to chase. She can be at a lure coursing trial for the whole day not worrying about the lure because 1) I keep her at a distance where the stimulus isn't saliant enough and 2) she gets reinforcement for calmly watching from a distance.

I'm honestly getting second hand embarassment reading this study. It's just such bad science should never have gotten past an ethics board.

#dog training #canine science #or lack thereof #shock collars #e collars #balanced training #aversive training #animal welfare

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eveninggstar · 3 months ago

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taste ⊹ ࣪ ˖

lando norris x celeb!ex!reader

28.08.24

୨ৎLando’s girlfriend finds herself constantly measuring herself against you, unable to escape the shadow of your presence in every interaction she has with him since their reconciliation. Every moment they share together is tainted by her preoccupation with you, as she struggles with the lingering comparisons and the haunting feeling that you’re always a part of their relationship.

i might make another one of these (not a lando one tho) more based on the music video but i love this so much <3

(also there isnt much lando x reader its more so julie-the girlfriend- losing her mind this is 3k words btw longs thing ive posted im pretty sure)

୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages

Julie’s voice echoed from Lando’s bedroom as she rummaged through his closet. "Hey, Lando, where did your brown hoodie go?"

Lando, halfway through rifling the fridge for his meal prep, paused, raising an eyebrow. "Which one? I’ve got a ton of brown hoodies," he called back, finally grabbing a yogurt and tearing off the lid.

Julie appeared in the doorway, holding a hoodie up to inspect it. "Its just plain brown. I think you wore it for the chicken shop date thing?"

Lando froze, spoon mid-air, his eyes widening in recognition. The hoodie. The one you had practically claimed as your own during your time together. He could vividly remember the countless times you’d thrown it on, the sleeves always a little too long on you, but it became your favourite because it smelled like him. He cursed under his breath. "Son of a—"

Julie’s brow furrowed. "What?"

"Nothing, just... yogurt," Lando muttered, quickly shovelling a spoonful into his mouth to avoid further questions. But his mind was miles away, back to the days when you two were inseparable.

The buzz around the Grand Prix was electric, but as usual, social media had its own storm brewing. While Lando and Julie were busy with pre-race activities at the track, a new post began circulating online, quickly capturing everyone’s attention.

A fan had snapped a picture of you at the airport, casually dressed in leggings, sneakers, and a brown hoodie that was instantly recognizable to anyone who followed Lando Norris. It wasn’t just any brown hoodie—it was his brown hoodie from the video that everyone was complementing his boyfriend skills, the one that had become almost iconic. The photo showed you standing by the gate, luggage in hand, seemingly unaware of the stir you were causing.

Within minutes, the photo was everywhere. "is lando and y/n back together?" one tweet read, followed by countless others speculating about whether you and Lando were back together. "They must be seeing each other again. Why else would she have his hoodie?" someone commented, adding fuel to the fire.

Back at the GP, Julie was enjoying the day, blissfully unaware of the online frenzy. She and Lando had been photographed together several times, looking every bit the happy couple. But as she scrolled through her phone in between sessions, her smile faded. Her notifications were blowing up—fans tagging her, sending messages, and most of all, sharing that airport photo of you.

Her heart dropped as she recognized the hoodie immediately. There was no mistaking it. Lando had worn it countless times, and now, there you were, casually wearing it in public like it was yours. It was supposed to be her hoodie. She wanted to wear it, yet here you were strutting with it slinged on.

Julie’s mind raced with jealousy and frustration. She knew that you and Lando had a history, but this felt like a public reminder of something she couldn’t quite shake—a connection that still lingered between the two of you. People were already speculating that you and Lando were rekindling your romance, and the thought of it made her stomach churn.

Without thinking, Julie opened her camera roll and found a picture from earlier that morning. Both of them smiling with his arm draped around her shoulders. She quickly uploaded it to Instagram.

julie's inatagram

tagged: landonorris

liked by others

julie.love My forever ❤️

The post was live within seconds, and as the likes and comments started rolling in, Julie felt a brief sense of control. "You two are so perfect together!" someone commented. "Lando and Julie forever!" another wrote. But no matter how many compliments she received, the uneasy feeling in her gut remained.

Lando, on the other hand, was caught off guard when his teammate showed him the airport photo of you. "Hey, mate, isn’t this your hoodie?" they asked with a grin. Lando stared at the screen, a mix of surprise and nostalgia washing over him.

Neither of you had given any clothes back. It wasn't an agreement that you would go back to each other. Nothing like that. The pair of you were just too busy to drop the clothes off, mutually agreeing just keep them or get rid of them. However it reminded him of how intertwined your lives had been, and how some things, like that hoodie, had slipped through the cracks.

When Lando later saw Julie’s post, he felt a pang of guilt. He knew it was more than just a cute couple picture—it was a reaction, a way to claim him in the face of rumors and speculations. But even as he stood next to Julie, smiling for the cameras, he couldn’t help but feel the pull of the past, and the complications it brought into his present.

Julie’s post might have been an attempt to silence the rumours, but the truth was that the sight of you in his hoodie had stirred up more than just gossip. It was a reminder that some connections aren’t easily broken, and no matter how much time passes, there are pieces of the past that linger—no matter how hard you try to move on.

The night had settled quietly over the city, the noise of the race weekend fading into the background. Lando and Julie were lying in bed, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room. Lando had drifted off quickly, his breathing steady and calm, completely relaxed after a long day at the track.

But Julie couldn’t sleep. She lay on her side, facing Lando, her thoughts racing. She stared at his peaceful face, the dim light from the street outside casting soft shadows across his features. He looked content, his usual easy smile tugging at the corners of his lips even in sleep. It was a sight that usually brought her comfort, but tonight, it only made the knot in her stomach tighten.

Julie’s mind was consumed with thoughts of you—your face, the hoodie, the way you seemed to still have a hold on parts of Lando that she couldn’t reach. She kept replaying the image of you at the airport, casually wearing his hoodie as if it were nothing, as if it didn’t mean something.

She wondered if Lando had thought about you at all when he saw the photo earlier, or if he had truly dismissed it as easily as he’d said he did. He had brushed off the rumors, laughing them away, saying it was just a hoodie, nothing more. But Julie couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something lingering beneath the surface.

As she lay there, watching Lando sleep, her heart ached with insecurity. She wondered if, even in his dreams, he was thinking of you. Did his mind wander back to the memories you shared, to the jokes and the late-night conversations that were once his world? Was there a part of him that still longed for what you had, even if he would never admit it?

Julie wanted to reach out, to touch his face, to reassure herself that he was hers, but her hand hesitated. The thought of you, still a presence in his life, made her doubt the closeness they shared. It felt like a shadow, something she couldn’t compete with, no matter how hard she tried.

She sighed softly, trying to push the thoughts away, but they lingered like a stubborn cloud, refusing to clear. Julie knew Lando loved her—he showed it in so many ways—but the fear of what he might still feel for you gnawed at her, making her question everything.

As Lando shifted slightly in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible, Julie’s breath caught. Was he dreaming of you? Or was it just her own fears playing tricks on her? She closed her eyes, willing herself to believe that he was dreaming of nothing at all, that his mind was as peaceful as his expression.

But as she lay there, restless and wide awake, Julie couldn’t shake the haunting thought that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one thinking about you tonight.

It was a lazy afternoon at the hotel, with Lando and Julie lounging on the balcony, enjoying the view of the bustling city below. Julie leaned back in her chair, sipping on a cool drink, and looked over at Lando with a playful smile. "If you could do one crazy thing right now, what would it be?" she asked, curious to hear his answer.

Lando paused for a moment, thinking it over. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he replied, "I want to jump off a cliff into the ocean. I’ve never done that before."

Julie blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter. "What? Where did that come from?"

Lando laughed along with her. "It just sounds like a rush, doesn’t it? Plus, it’s one of those things you’ve got to try at least once."

Julie shook her head, still chuckling. "You're so weird sometimes."

Lando shrugged with a grin, enjoying the lighthearted moment. "Hey, there’s a first time for everything."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, enjoying each other’s company, but as the day wore on, Julie found herself thinking about Lando’s unexpected response. It wasn’t that the idea of cliff diving was so out of character—Lando was always up for an adventure—but it was the way he said it, with a humor and boldness that seemed a little different from his usual demeanor.

Later that evening, back at the hotel, Julie was scrolling through TikTok while Lando was in the shower. As she mindlessly flipped through videos, one caught her attention. It was a compilation of funny moments from various celebrities, and the first clip was of you. The video showed you laughing, full of energy, as you spoke into the camera.

"If I could do anything right now, I’d totally jump off a cliff into the ocean," you said with a playful grin. "I’ve never done it before, and I’m kind of scared, but also, it’s on my bucket list. Who’s with me?"

Julie’s laughter died in her throat as she watched. Her stomach twisted as she realized that Lando’s earlier comment wasn’t just a random thought—it was something he had picked up from you. The way you said it, with that same mix of humor and excitement, was almost identical to how Lando had phrased it.

She put her phone down, her mind racing. The connection was too clear to ignore. You were still influencing him, whether Lando realized it or not. It wasn’t just in the big things, but in the small, subtle ways that you had left a mark on him.

Julie glanced toward the bathroom, where the sound of the shower running echoed through the room. She felt a pang of insecurity, wondering if she would always be competing with the ghost of you—your humor, your quirks, the pieces of you that had woven themselves into Lando’s life and stayed there, even after you were gone.

As Lando emerged from the bathroom, toweling off his hair with that familiar, carefree smile, Julie tried to push the thoughts away. She didn’t want to spoil the moment or let her doubts show. But as she forced a smile, she couldn’t help but feel that your presence was still very much there, lingering between them, even now.

The night was alive with celebration. The pulsating beat of the music, the vibrant lights flashing across the packed dance floor, and the electric energy of the crowd all mixed together in a whirlwind of excitement. All of the drivers were having a night out in Monaco. Julie clung to Lando's side, basking in his happiness, proud and exhilarated. The night felt perfect, almost surreal.

As the night wore on, Julie excused herself to the bathroom, weaving through the crowd and slipping past the velvet ropes into the dimly lit hallway. The bathroom was a sanctuary from the chaos outside, quieter but still buzzing with the distant thump of the music.

Julie washed her hands, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She smiled to herself, thinking about Lando, how far he’d come, and how good they looked together tonight. She was about to turn the tap off when she felt a presence behind her, someone stepping close enough to brush against her.

Julie froze, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she looked up into the mirror and saw you standing directly behind her, your reflection clear as day. Your eyes locked onto hers through the glass, and a sly, knowing smile played on your lips.

Before Julie could react, you leaned in closer, your breath warm against her ear as you whispered, "Every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you're feelin' mine. And every time you breathe his air, just know I was already there."

Julie’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears. She wanted to move, to say something, but she was rooted to the spot, mesmerized and terrified by your presence.

You continued, your voice soft but laced with a sharp edge, "You can have him if you like. I've been there, done that once or twice. And talkin' 'bout it don't mean I care. Yeah, I know I've been known to share."

As soon as the last word left your lips, Julie snapped out of her daze. She spun around, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. But the bathroom was empty. You were gone—vanished as if you had never been there at all.

Julie’s eyes darted around the small space, her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of the sink. Was it real? Had you actually been there, or was it some twisted trick of her mind? The encounter had felt so vivid, so real, but now she was alone, the silence of the bathroom pressing in around her.

She quickly turned back to the mirror, half-expecting to see you again, but there was nothing—just her own wide-eyed reflection staring back at her. The words you had whispered echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her question everything.

Julie took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but the unease wouldn’t leave her. She felt as though your presence had left a mark, something intangible yet undeniable, a reminder that no matter how much she tried to hold onto Lando, your shadow was always there, lurking in the corners of her mind.

Fighting back a wave of panic, Julie hurried out of the bathroom, back into the noisy, crowded club. She pushed through the throngs of people until she found Lando again, his carefree smile and bright eyes a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside her.

He pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she tried to lose herself in the music, in the celebration. But no matter how hard she tried to shake it off, the memory of your words stayed with her, haunting her, and making her wonder if she would ever truly have him to herself.

The paddock was alive with the vibrant energy of race day at Zandvoort. The excitement was palpable as Lando prepared for his race, surrounded by cameras, fans, and a sea of media. Julie stood close to Lando, trying to stay calm amidst the chaos. She had been eagerly supporting him all weekend, but today, her nerves were frayed.

As Lando was about to enter the garage, he turned to Julie, pulling her into an embrace. “Hey, kiss of well done?” he asked with a soft smile, his voice barely audible over the ambient noise.

Julie managed a smile, trying to focus on the positive. “Well done,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. It was supposed to be a sweet moment after the race, a brief respite from the frenzy surrounding them.

But as their lips met, Julie’s perception shifted abruptly. The kiss, the closeness, the sensation—it felt strangely familiar, as if she were kissing someone else entirely. A cold shiver of panic raced through her, and in her mind, it wasn’t Lando she was kissing, but you.

Her eyes flew open, and the illusion was enough to send her into a spiral of distress. She pulled away from Lando, her fear manifesting in her voice. “Get away from me!” she screamed, her voice trembling with a mix of terror and anger. “Leave me alone, Y/N! Just leave me alone!”

The scene erupted into stunned silence as Julie’s outburst pierced through the crowd. The media, the fans, and even Lando looked on in shock. Julie’s face was flushed, her eyes wide with fear as she backed away from Lando, who looked utterly bewildered.

As Julie’s panic peaked, she turned and fled, running frantically through the paddock. Her eyes were clouded with tears, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In her haste, she collided hard with someone coming from the opposite direction.

It was you.

The shock of seeing you, the very person she thought she had just escaped, standing right in front of her, sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through her. "No! Get away from me!" Julie screamed again, her voice cracking as she staggered back, her eyes wide with fear. The panic in her voice echoed through the paddock, drawing even more attention as people turned to see what was happening.

You stood there, frozen in shock, your eyes locking with hers. You hadn’t done anything—you were just walking past as a guest of Mercedes, on your way to their hospitality area. But the intensity of Julie’s reaction left you momentarily speechless.

"Julie!" Lando’s voice cut through the chaos as he rushed over, his concern etched on his face. He reached out for her, but Julie was already spinning around, desperate to escape. She shoved past him and the onlookers, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she ran, trying to get away from the ghost she believed was haunting her.

As Julie disappeared into the crowd, the paddock buzzed with murmurs and confused glances. The cameras that had been trained on Lando’s celebratory moment now captured a scene of utter chaos and confusion.

Lando looked up, his eyes meeting yours across the paddock. His face was a mix of confusion, concern, and something else—something that told you this was far from over.

You quickly averted your gaze, turning away before you could get caught up in the drama that was unfolding. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of what had just happened, and the realization that some things, no matter how much time passes, are never truly left behind.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

i love this so much hope you do too <3

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #mclaren f1 #mclaren #fem!reader #f1

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117luv · 1 year ago

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THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 16

synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.

genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication

taglist: CLOSED!

a/n: hey loves! im BACK again with a new update and my writer's block is slowly fading away and i just finished my exams few days ago. damn almost 2 months since my last update? i sincerely apologize for everyone that has been waiting but rest assured, im planning to finish this smau this month (hopefully i actually do this) ne ways enjoy this chapter and love yall <3

masterlist | previous | next

The date was decent, to say the least. The guy was nice enough to go on a blind date for the sake of his grandmother being worried about him and his love life. In order to ease her worries, he decided to go through with the date. They talked about their personal lives, such as how he wanted to start a small flower business near a school where his first love was working, while she talked about not standing up on this date as a sign of respect for him. She had also mentioned that her twin boys pushed her to go despite her initial disagreement. They had a lot of fun swapping stories, but Heeseung saw this as the two of them enjoying the date, which might lead to a deeper relationship in the future. His heart felt a tug, but at the end of the day, all he wanted was for her to be happy, even if he wasn't the reason for her smile. After all, she deserves everything this world has to offer.

Time came quickly, and after 2 hours of talking, they swapped goodbyes, and he offered to ride her home, which she declined because someone would be fetching her. She texted Heeseung to fetch her at the restaurant. As he received the message, he quickly drove to the front of the restaurant, where she was waiting for him. He opened the door for her and went back to drive her back home. The ride home was silent in comparison with their usual chat whenever they are alone. He just seemed off to her, but she can't pinpoint what the exact reason was for his demeanor. After a few minutes, she asked him to stop in an empty parking lot, which he complied with easily.

After he stopped the car, she asked him, "What's wrong, Heeseung?" to which he replied with a short response of "I'm okay, don't worry about me," but she wasn't satisfied with his answer. She explained that he was acting different after he fetched her, but he kept brushing off the fact that he was just tired. Her persistence never stopped, and he angrily told her, "Fine, I'm jealous. I saw you two in the restaurant laughing and having fun, and I felt jealous. For the longest time, I still love you. My feelings for you never changed after so many years. I tried to forget you and ventured to date a few years ago, but they will never be you. I longed for you, Yn. But seeing you smiling and laughing with other men made me feel that perhaps you have indeed moved on and I should move on as well." He kept talking, but she gave him a kiss to silent him.

The kiss felt like electricity running through their skin; it felt like their first kiss all over again. A kiss that is full of love, in which he responded back with a more firm kiss back towards her, filled with longing. He had longed for her for so many years, and the kiss proved it. After a few minutes, she pulled away to take a breath. She stared at his face as she examined his reaction. Before he could even respond, she spoke up. "I love you too, Heeseung. No need to be jealous over a man like him. We just talked about him wanting to build a small flower shop near the school where his first love was working. I even talked about you and the boys to him. He opened my eyes and made me realize that all I ever want is to be with you and our boys. I won't want to change any of that; I have longed for you. I want you back in my life, my love," she said as she placed a firm kiss on his lips.

He was too speechless to respond to anything, but he hugged her tightly in his embrace. He can't believe that the woman he always loved still loved him after so many years, and it wasn't a one-sided feeling the entire time. He started the car again and told her that they would be going to their old hangout spot. He wanted some alone time with her before they went back home. They stopped in a small park where they had always gone when they were teenagers. A night spent with her was all he needed to feel at ease. After all, his home has always been hers.

taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @en-happiness @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @enhaz1 @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @beoms-sugar

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cheezbites · 1 year ago

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Dating König PT.2

✎: couldn’t get enough of my husband so here’s part twoo🥹!! (part one linked here)

♡Summary: Headcanons of dating König PT.2

*+:｡.｡<3｡.｡:+*

Bf!König would bounce his knee whenever he felt anxious - another one of his harmless, repetitive habits. He felt helplessly cold and restricted when things get too overwhelming; bouncing his knee was superficially warming him up. He doesn’t even realise he does it at times as he’s too occupied by thinking about the overflowing emotions.

That was until you steadied a gentle, reassuring hand on his shaky knee. Only one of his trembling body parts could easily decipher how the rest of him felt - pressured, distracted and stressed. He found himself stopping - like you were some medicine that instantly cured an excruciating headache. You warmly smiled at him, making eye contact. His gaze lingered on your hand for a while, like you miraculously calmed an uncontrollable sea with your delicate fingertips. He’s rarely ever been handled so divinely, especially being in the military. His frown and previously tense muscles almost instantly vanished and transitioned into a grateful smile as he looked at you. You were so warm and gentle to him. He wants to feel this electric dopamine kick over and over again, he doesn’t plan on ever parting from it - parting from you. There was a euphoric comfort in your touch.

“‘You okay?” you asked, your tone ever so sweet and genuine.

“’m okay now, Liebling.”

Bf!Konig loved your hugs, he’s so large and muscular in comparison to you. You loved engulfing in his scent and warmth, especially after stressful days at work. It boosts your mood almost instantly knowing you have a human teddy bear at home to return to. You remained glued to him, melting into his touch - skin to skin. He could be minding his business as he’s laying in bed and you’re suddenly crawling on top of him and wrapping your arms around him. Knowing you have him (and his godsent figure) made your heart so content.

He loves knowing you love him.

Feeling sad? Cuddles. Feeling happy? Cuddles. Bored? Cuddles. His heartbeat against yours is to live and die for. You were already used to feeling him whenever you’re feeling sad; his arms wrapping around you, his head resting on your neck as he comfort you, his heart beat and warmth against yours.

Bf!Konig saved a cat from a high tree, he was so gentle in doing so, too - reassuringly cooing praises and reaching his arms out to catch them. The cat gradually gave in and trusted him like they knew him their whole life. His height most definitely has perks that you swoon over. You had an unexpected bond over cats, too. You never saw him being a cat person, but it works.

You sent each other pictures of cats you spot when you’re out and about to mutually obsess over how cute they are. He’d most definitely have an almost eery talent of spotting any cat’s breed with no effort.

Y/N: This one’s a cutie, so skinny tho :(( they’re prolly starving

König: Siamese’s are very thin kittens so they just look xtra skinny when hungry😢

Y/N: This is the 8th time this week…

Y/N: nerd.

(König ❤️ reacted your message).

Bf!König is used to the contradictory pet names you give him, they’re all so sweet and girly, opposing his tough and rugged experiences where he’d endure ruthless and boisterous battle fields like it’s nothing. He never admits to the butterflies in his stomach to the sound of your voice calling him sunflower, sugar or sweetie.

That was until you made them satirically cheesy as you ask him for favours:

“My honey sugar sunflower baby bear,” you called, sickly sweet, grinning at him.

“Hm?”

You were genuinely surprised he even replied to that - you thought he’d just ignore you until you dropped these nicknames and addressed him properly - but he was already used to your shenanigans.

“Can you get my phone?”

“Sure,”

“Thank you honey bun sugar muffin,” you replied, the pet names easily rolling off your tongue like they were just meant for König.

He only scoffed at your teasing and made a poor attempt at hiding his smile before standing up to get your phone.

Bf!König is so considerate with his gifts. If there’s anything you’ve been raving about or if you stared at something for too long as you were shopping together it’ll be delivered right to you in the next 2-3 business days. He’s also really observant about your likes, dislikes and oddly specific things you’re infatuated with. You smiled from ear to ear and felt irrepressibly giddy each time he buys you gifts or spoils you. As you wore whatever he got you, you’d think about him each and every single time, realising that you’re the luckiest girl in the world.

Bf!König was destined to be a chef. He gets so passionate when he’s telling you about some recipe he’ll try for dinner or when anything food related is bought up. You’d tag along in the kitchen as he taught you all the nifty tips and tricks. The nights which would always be most fun, intimate and undeniably delicious is when you guys cooked dinner together.

His speciality is making deserts, which is perfect for your sweet tooth.

Bf!König is so good with children, either when it came to entertaining or colouring with them - they’re always drawn to König, despite how they think he’s scary at first. Your little cousin had to stay at yours for the night and they bonded so quickly.

At first, she was admittedly intimidated and intrigued by him. She had to crane her neck up but to meet his gaze, like many others when they first meet König.

But upon the ice being broken, they were baking cute little cupcakes together as she received piggybacks whilst she giggled to her heart’s content. He gave her wholesome, exclusive nicknames like ‘Prinzessin’. It went from her shooting him unsure looks to them being the best of friends.

Your face flushed so hard as you watched them. In their shared smiles, you found an endless joy.

Bf!König gradually opened up to you about his work life. He told you about his scars. Either how he got them, the treatment, the pain and whatever else he shared with you.

You’d remind him if it’s an uncomfortable topic for him then he absolutely doesn’t have to talk about it. “Work stuff can be work stuff, it doesn’t have be discussed if you really don’t wanna,” you’d remind him, ensuring you’re crossing no boundaries. Yet he insisted on it, he trusts you. It was all like a slow burn - your love was like a slow burn; the beautiful blazing fire at the end was all too worth it. Knowing he could trust you with something so delicate and harsh made you feel a mix of ecstatic emotions you couldn’t phrase.

Your fingers gently glided against his scarred back, feeling the vibration of his voice and the light indents that lingered on his skin. He faintly hitched each time you touched him; like he was trembling under and melting into your touch. It’s the moments like this that you could infinitely relish in.

He’d reveal more and more in your ‘secret scar seshes’. It felt rewarding knowing he could put so much trust into you, letting you into his sacred double life.

Bf!König realises how deeply in love with you he is whenever you’re passionately raving about something or laughing. He’s drawn to your voice, like it’s a song he wouldn’t mind leaving on repeat for the whole week. To him. it was like a hug to the ears. He found happiness in your passion. He didn‘t mind being the listener of most conversations. He absorbed every word you spoke like you were a little podcast he could tune into.

You noticed the way he looks at you as you spoke - you tried your hardest to not get nervous and fumble over your words or stutter despite how long you guys have been dating. You’d act like a coy teen who’s talking to their crush for the first time whenever you picked up on how observant he was. You tend to unknowingly repeat things, and with the same eagerness as from the first time you told him - how could he ever want to take that away from you? The last thing he’d want to do is rid the bright energy in your demeanour and tone, all from just talking about something you’re very keen on.

He just knew whenever your sentence started with “Oh yeah, did I tell you about…” it’s most probably something you’ve told him. He’d act oblivious with an almost instinctive “No, I don’t think so… tell me,” with his best interest and ears that seemingly perked just to hear you talk all over again.

Bf!König went shopping with you at some boujie dress shop. It was mostly for window shopping, but if you really liked any dress he wouldn’t hesitate to buy it for you.

You took one to the changing room, just to try it on. It delightfully draped down your body, tight in all the right places. The colour complimented your features so much - in addition to the risqué slit that became more evident whenever you walked.

“You ready…?” you asked, taking a final spin in the mirror.

“Of course, Schatz.”

You walked out of the changing room, finding König patiently perched on a chair. The dress faintly brushed against the floor with every step, making you hold up the hem of it in your hands like those elegant princesses. (In which you looked like one to him).

He paused for a second, like he was trying to catch his breath, savouring your every feature. He’s never seen you dressed in such graceful clothing, let alone a dress that’s just otherworldly and looks as if it’s been made for you and you only. You shyly smiled because of how affectionate his gaze was. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his wallet.

“No, König,” you interjected, frowning. He looked at you expectedly, slightly confused.

“What?” he asked, confusion being the only thing in his tone. You shook your head at him before lowering his wallet - an indirect rejection to him spoiling you.

“Look at you!” He began, evidently growing more and more confused and in love by the second, “You look…” he paused, like he was trying to find the right words, like your beauty was indescribable, “gorgeous.” He pulled his wallet back out in protest, making you tut at him before hugging him in the tightest embrace and smiling like an idiot.

Bf!König is used to you sleeping on him. It always starts off with you innocent resting your head on his lap as you watch TV.

“I’m just resting my eyes,” you groaned, voice heavy with sleep. He didn’t think much of it and just let you do your thing.

And not even five seconds later, you were using his warmth as a blanket and his thighs as a pillow before dozing off.

“Y/N?” he called your name ever so softly, checking if you were genuinely asleep. You’ve had troubles sleeping this week so your rested state made him furrow his eyebrows in shock. A few seconds of silence passed, and he found himself smiling. He didn’t mind you sleeping on him - he actually enjoyed it.

He stayed with you for a minute or two to relish in your presence before carrying you to bed, tucking you in and softly planting a kiss on your cheek.

Bf!König never fails to nonverbally bring up the size difference, from your clothes, hands, (don’t get me started on the hands) or anything, really. There will always be a size difference.

When he drives, he’d always put his hand onto your thigh and encompass your hand around his. You flutter inside at how easily he effortlessly shrinks everything and anything. You could be wearing one of his t-shirts that fit him, but they’d look bigger on your figure.

Bf!König noticed your hairbands would usually be scattered around the house. Instead of returning them to you, he’d keep them. He caught sight of a black, elastic ring on the kitchen counter, swiftly grabbed it and word it like it was a promise ring. It was so precious to him, he’ll probably keep it on until it disintegrates off his wrist.

“Have you seen my hairband?” You asked, frantically entering and exiting rooms and misplacing things to find it.

“Nope,” König replied, rolling his sleeve up to hide the same exact one you were looking for. You had a countless amount of other headbands, but you just randomly clung onto that specific one.

“Ugh, I have to get another one now.”

»»----------►Masterlist

Dating Ghost

Dating Price

Dating Soap

Dating Gaz

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