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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 16

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes:

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose. Also Discussion of toxic media/fandom/death threats

Me trying to put all the stuff I wanted in one chapter: exploding head emoji.

If you wonder why there are no cute little pictures in that: If I did that, this would have gotten way too long, it's already 3.5k. (which is also why I didn't add lots of the normal introspective thoughts I usually do lol) You are getting the full on media meltdown in the next chapter.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

The morning of their Silverstone hard launch, Lando was a bundle of nervous energy.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing his knee, hands clasped together as he stared at the floor. Across the room, Lizzie was playing with Mara, completely unbothered.

“I just—” Lando ran a hand through his hair. “Last time I went public with a girlfriend, she got death threats.”

Lizzie turned, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Lando. Last time I killed off a fictional character, I got death threats.”

He blinked at her.

She sighed and moved to sit beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I know you’re worried. And I get it. But we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to.” His voice was firm, but his fingers fidgeted against his knee. “I just don’t want you to have to deal with all the bullshit.”

Lizzie smiled, reaching down to still his hand with her own. “I have been on the receiving end of unhinged internet people for years. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

He exhaled, leaning into her warmth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She squeezed his fingers. “Besides, we have Mara. No one can hate me when I have an adorable dog.”

Lando laughed despite himself, finally relaxing. “That’s your master plan? Weaponizing Mara?”

“Absolutely.” Lizzie grinned. “If anyone tries to be mean, I’ll just post a picture of her looking sad. Instant sympathy.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the top of hers. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too,” Lizzie hummed. “Which is why, I am not even putting a Ferrari Bandana on Mara.”

“Hahaha, you are so funny,” Lando snorted.

“I got a surprise for you,” Lizzie said drily. She gave a soft command, and Mara obediently came over, sitting up proudly.

Lando blinked—and then his mouth actually fell open.

Mara was wearing a bandana that matched his Silverstone helmet design perfectly.

No detail had been missed—the same colors, the same patterns, even the subtle nods to the British flag. It was perfect.

Lizzie bit her lip, barely containing her excitement. "What do you think?"

Lando just stared. Then his gaze flicked from Mara to Lizzie, back to Mara, and finally back to Lizzie again. "Are you—? How—? When did you do this?!"

Lizzie beamed, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "I have my ways."

"You—" He ran a hand through his hair, completely speechless. "Max. It was Max, wasn’t it?"

She grinned wider. "Maybe."

Lando let out a stunned laugh, reaching out to gently adjust the bandana. "This is… sick." He looked up at her, eyes bright. "Like, actually so cool. You did this for me?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Thought you’d like a little pre-race good luck charm."

Lando didn’t even hesitate before leaning over and crashing a kiss against her lips, his hand coming up to cradle her jaw. It was warm, soft, and grateful. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, and he was still grinning.

"I love you," he said, voice full of fondness.

Lizzie hummed, her fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie. "I know."

Lando let out a small huff of laughter before dropping another kiss to her nose. "I’m actually obsessed with you."

"And Mara," she teased.

"And Mara." Lando turned to the dog, who was watching them patiently. "You, Miss Mara, are my new favorite teammate. Sorry, Oscar."

Lizzie laughed. "She’s definitely cuter."

Lando took another long look at the bandana, then back at Lizzie, his heart swelling. "You’re the best, you know that?"

Lizzie smirked. "Oh, I absolutely do."

And as Lando sat there, still grinning like an idiot, with Mara happily wagging her tail beside him, he knew this—this little moment, this quiet, perfect start to the day—was something he’d hold onto forever.

“Alright,” Lando said, standing up and tugging her with him. “Let’s go hard launch this thing.”

And just like that, he was back to himself. Confident. Ready.

Lizzie smirked. “Now there’s the Lando Norris I know.”

***

F1 TV Commentary

Commentator 1: “And here comes Lando Norris, arriving for Qualifying Day at Silverstone—home race, big weekend for him. And—wait a second, who’s that with him?”

Commentator 2: “Yeah, that’s—well, obviously, Lando’s brought a dog… That’s a brown Labrador, very well-behaved, wearing a bandana, might I add.”

Commentator 3: “Is that dog’s bandana matching his racing helmet?! I think it may!”

(There’s a pause as they process what they’re seeing.)

Commentator 1: “Okay, so Lando’s got company. But who—hang on, is that—? I think—could that be—? Oh, wow, I think we’ve just had a hard launch.”

Commentator 2: “I think you’re right! That’s Lando, hand in hand with a very pretty young lady…no word yet of who that may be…”

Commentator 3: “And if the internet and McLaren is to be believed, that would be Elizabeth Treshton with him, New York Times Bestselling author, and that dog is her service dog…Though we have not yet had confirmation of the dogs name…”

Commentator 1: “Either way, this is big—Lando and Elizabeth arriving together, matching outfits, dog in tow, looking very comfortable. This is as official as it gets.”

Commentator 3: “Well, the internet is definitely going to explode over this one. And I have to say, I’m very here for it. Lando Norris, best-selling author girlfriend, adorable Labrador—what’s not to love?”

Commentator 1: “And you just know McLaren social media is absolutely thriving off this right now.”

****

Lizzie had been to big events before—book signings, conventions, industry panels—but nothing quite prepared her for this.

Silverstone was a beast of its own.

The crowd was deafening, a mix of cheers, chants, and the unmistakable hum of engines in the distance. The paddock was alive with cameras, journalists, team members, and fans who barely spared her a glance—until they did.

Because she wasn’t just anyone here.

She was Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

Lizzie adjusted the lanyard around her neck, the VIP pass bouncing against her chest as they walked through the McLaren hospitality area. Her hand was firmly tucked in Lando’s, an unspoken reassurance between them. His grip tightened slightly every time someone called his name, every time cameras flashed.

She wasn’t nervous—okay, maybe a little—but more than anything, she was hyper-aware of everything happening around them. The weight of eyes, the murmurs, the way some people did a double take when they realized who she was.

"Lizzie."

She blinked up at Lando, who was watching her carefully, his usual easy grin softened into something more sincere. "You good?"

"Yeah," she said, then corrected, "Mostly yeah."

His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "You tell me if it gets too much, yeah?"

Lizzie nodded, exhaling slowly. "Yeah."

They moved further in, and before she could fully take in her surroundings, she heard a high-pitched squeal.

"Lizzie!"

She barely had time to react before Lily all but launched at her, hugging her like they were lifelong best friends instead of people who had met once.

"Hi?" Lizzie laughed, hugging her back.

Lily pulled away, still buzzing with excitement. "I still can't believe you're here. And with Lando." She shot him a teasing look. "I mean, we knew, but still. Wild."

Lando groaned. "Why does everyone act like me having a girlfriend is the most shocking thing in the world?"

Oscar, standing next to Lily, smirked. "Because it is."

"Wow. Betrayed by my own teammate."

Lizzie snorted, shaking her head as she adjusted the sleeve of her McLaren jacket. “You’ll survive,” she said amusedly, patting his arm.

Lando looked at Lizzie. “Ready to meet the team?”

Lizzie exhaled, then nodded. “Ready.”

With that, they stepped inside, the sound of the paddock buzzing behind them.

And just like that, Lizzie Treshton was officially part of the F1 world.

***

Lizzie wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up here.

One moment, she and Lando had been in the McLaren garage, getting her settled in. The next, Lily had grabbed her arm, saying something about "Oh yeah, the WAGs wanna meet you,” and now she was in the pitlane, before the Ferrari Garage, standing in front of Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux.

And trying very hard not to embarrass herself.

Lando stood beside her, one hand casually resting on her waist, the other holding Mara’s leash as she sat at their feet, looking very professional in her bandana.

Charles, ever polite, offered a small smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Lizzie, who had definitely spent too many hours watching onboard footage of this man’s driving, managed a mostly composed, “Likewise.” Then she cleared her throat and gestured toward Mara, who sat obediently at her side. “Also—thank you. For the bandana. Mara loves it. We just thought she should match Lando for today.”

Charles smiled at her. “Oh you are welcome. It was very amusing when Carlos called me to ask for it. Lando will never hear the end of it.”

Lando just rolled his eyes at that.

Charles, now looking amused, glanced between them. “You’re… surprisingly calm.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Should I not be?”

Charles chuckled. “Most people are a bit more… excitable when they meet me.”

Lizzie huffed a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, internally, I’m screaming. But I have a dog to keep calm, and also, I do have some dignity.”

Alexandra snorted. “More than most.”

Lando, grinning, nudged her. “She’s lying. She definitely had a mini meltdown in the car this morning about meeting you.”

Lizzie gasped and smacked his arm. “You absolute traitor.”

Charles laughed. “I appreciate the honesty.”

Before Lizzie could respond, Alexandra grabbed her hands. “Okay, but actually—I need to say this before I combust—I love your books.”

Lizzie blinked. “You—you do?”

“Oh my god, yes.” Alexandra practically bounced on her feet. “Seasons of Fate is one of my favorite series of all time. I’ve read the first three books at least four times each.”

Lizzie stared. “No way.”

“Yes way.” Alexandra grinned. “I am absolutely dying for the last book. When you announced the release date, I screamed.”

Lizzie laughed, a little stunned. “That is… amazing. I had no idea you were a reader.”

“Are you kidding? I pre-ordered An Autumn of Fire and Stone the moment it was available.”

Charles, beside her, shook his head fondly. “She made me go with her to buy a physical copy too.”

Lando snorted. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Lizzie beamed. “That’s genuinely so cool.”

Alexandra sighed dramatically. “I can’t believe I get to meet you in real life. This is the best day ever.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “You literally see world champion drivers every week.”

“Yes, but she writes romantasy.”

Lizzie cackled. “Priorities.”

Alexandra nodded seriously. “Exactly.”

She had been quite proud of mostly holding it together…and not embarrassing herself…

And then Lewis Hamilton came strolling over.

And all sense of composure left her body.

“Oh my god.” The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Lando, who had been standing beside her, immediately grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Lizzie turned, wide-eyed, to look at him. Betrayed. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“What, that Lewis was gonna be here?” He smirked. “I thought that would be obvious.”

“Lando.”

“Liz.”

But before she could argue further, Lewis spotted them. And then, to make matters worse, he walked straight over.

And smiled at her.

“Lizzie, right?” He extended a hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Lizzie swore her soul left her body.

Because Lewis Hamilton—the seven-time world champion, the F1 legend, the man whose career she’d followed for years—knew her name.

Knew who she was.

Knew enough about her to have ‘heard things.’

Lizzie, in all her eloquence, blurted out: “I—yes. Me. That’s me.”

Lewis chuckled. Clearly entertained. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she managed, shaking his hand. Then, because her brain was short-circuiting, she added, “Big fan. Like, huge fan. Had a poster of you in my uni dorm.”

Lando immediately started laughing.

Lizzie, horrified, whipped around. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, this is amazing,” Lando grinned. “You were so calm meeting Charles, and now you’re—”

“Not a word.”

Lewis, ever the gentleman, just smiled. “That’s really sweet. And hey, I’m honored.”

Lizzie, still recovering from the interaction, forced herself to get it together. “Right. Yes. Anyway. This is Mara.”

At her name, Mara—who had been sitting patiently at her feet—perked up.

Lewis immediately crouched down, beaming. “And who’s this gorgeous girl?”

Mara, as if knowing exactly how famous the man in front of her was, wagged her tail enthusiastically.

“That’s Mara, my service dog,” Lizzie said, finally finding her footing again. “She’s a big fan of Roscoe.”

At that, Lewis lit up. “Oh, we should set up a playdate!”

Lizzie blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Of course.” Lewis nodded. “Roscoe loves meeting new friends. And they’d be adorable together.”

Lizzie, genuinely stunned, turned to Lando. “Did I just get invited to a playdate with Roscoe Hamilton?”

Lando smirked. “I believe you did.”

“Oh my god.” She looked back at Lewis. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

Before Lizzie could spiral further, Charles, who had been watching this unfold, added:

“If we’re doing a playdate, then Leo should come too.”

Lizzie whipped around to face him. “Wait—really?”

Charles shrugged. “Why not? He loves meeting new dogs.”

Lizzie turned to Lando, shaking him. “Lando. My dog is about to have a playdate with Roscoe Hamilton and Leo Leclerc.”

Lando, grinning, kissed her forehead. “You’re welcome.”

Lewis, amused, looked at Charles. “You ready for this?”

Charles sighed. “Leo is going to be so excited.”

Lizzie, still reeling, grinned. “Mara is going to have the best day of her life.”

And honestly? So was she.

****

Lizzie had so many questions about how her life had led to this exact moment.

Her dog was currently having a dog playdate with Leo and Roscoe behind the McLaren Motorhome.

"Explain to me again how we got here?" Lizzie muttered as she watched Leo immediately claim the room like he owned it, golden tail wagging furiously.

"Just go with it," Lando said, wrapping an arm around her waist. Lizzie sighed. "Right."

Roscoe, ever the gentleman, plodded his way over to Mara, who sat neatly at Lizzie’s feet, ears flicking in uncertainty.

"She’s pretending she’s above this," Lizzie whispered, watching as Mara gave Roscoe a long, assessing stare.

"Mara is above everything," Lando muttered back.

Charles, meanwhile, was grinning as he knelt to ruffle Leo’s ears. "See? This is perfect! Now we can finally see if Mara is truly Ferrari at heart."

Lando groaned. "You have to stop saying things like that. The grid will run with it."

"It is not my fault that your dog has an excellent name," Charles said smugly.

Before Lizzie could protest, Leo—who had decided that he had found a new best friend—threw himself down beside Mara, excitedly yapping.

Mara, after what could only be described as a long, suffering sigh, simply accepted her fate.

Lewis chuckled. "See? It was meant to be."

Lando shook his head, watching as Roscoe settled down on Mara’s other side, effectively trapping her between two dogs, one of which one was a hyperactive dachshund.

"So," Lewis smirked, crossing his arms, "when’s the next playdate?"

Lando groaned, Charles grinned, and Lizzie knew she was never going to live this down.

***

F1 TV Commentary – Silverstone Grand Prix (Race Day)

Commentator 1: chuckling "Now, here’s something you don’t see every day—Ferrari hospitality is absolutely buzzing, and it’s not just because of their crowd support here at Silverstone!"

Commentator 2: laughing "Oh, absolutely. If we didn’t know better, we’d think Ferrari was hosting a VIP event of its own. I mean, look at that lineup…I think we got partners from drivers from Ferrari, Alpine, Mercedes, Williams and McLaren…—Alexandra Saint Mleu, Kika Gomes, Carmen Montero Mundt, Lily Muni He, Rebecca Donaldons, Lily Zneimer... And there, right in the middle of it all, Elizabeth Treshton."

Commentator 1: "Yes, and that’s particularly interesting because this is Elizabeth’s very first Grand Prix as Lando Norris’ officially confirmed girlfriend. What a way to make a debut in the paddock!"

Commentator 2: grinning "And I have to say, she looks right at home. From what we know, Elizabeth is a lifelong F1 fan, and—controversially—she grew up supporting Ferrari! So, maybe she was always meant to be in their hospitality suite."

Commentator 1: "A childhood Ferrari fan dating McLaren’s golden boy—talk about a plot twist! But speaking of plot twists, Elizabeth’s not just any new WAG. She’s a bestselling fantasy author, her books are international hits, and one of them is about to be made into a movie. That’s a whole different kind of fame to bring into the F1 world!"

Commentator 2: "Absolutely! I mean, we talk about drivers balancing life in the public eye, but Elizabeth is already a major public figure in her own right. She has millions of readers, and from what I’ve seen online, her fans are just as obsessed with Lando as F1 fans are with her. It’s created this crossover event that I don’t think anyone saw coming!"

Commentator 1: laughing "And speaking of things no one saw coming—let’s talk about Mara."

Commentator 2: "Oh, we have to! For those who don’t know, Mara is Lizzie’s service dog, and she is currently stealing the show."

Commentator 1: "Not only is Mara sitting in Ferrari hospitality like she belongs there, but she’s also wearing a bandana that perfectly matches Lando’s special edition Silverstone helmet. Now that is commitment to the aesthetic!"

Commentator 2: laughing "I mean, Elizabeth Treshton is a writer. She clearly loves a well-executed theme. And honestly? Mara looks fantastic. I’m seeing more photos of that dog on social media than some of the drivers!"

Commentator 1: "As she should! I think it’s safe to say that between the Ferrari hospitality takeover, the bestselling author debut, and Mara becoming a fan favorite, Elizabeth Treshton has officially arrived in the F1 paddock."

Commentator 2: "And if Lando puts in a strong performance today? I have a feeling that Ferrari hospitality is going to be just as loud as the McLaren garage!"

***

Lizzie had to admit—she’d been nervous about spending the day in Ferrari hospitality.

Lando had his own obligations, and while Lily and Alexandra had already been so welcoming, she was still the newbie in the world of F1 WAGs.

But, as it turned out, Ferrari hospitality might as well have been a VIP social club for girlfriends and wives, and by midday, Lizzie was right at home.

She was currently sitting on a plush red couch with Kika, Rebecca, and Carmen, Mara curled up at her feet.

“So, first race weekend,” Kika said, giving her an amused look. “Overwhelmed yet?”

“Not as much as I expected to be,” Lizzie admitted, adjusting Mara’s bandana. “Though the garage yesterday was a lot.”

“You’re handling it well,” Carmen said warmly. “Some of us had a learning curve.”

Rebecca nodded in agreement. “Carlos tried explaining tire strategy to me the first weekend I came, and I made him stop after five minutes.”

Kika laughed. “I still don’t get half of it. I just nod and pretend I do.”

“Oh, same,” Lily said. “Oscar started talking about tire degradation once, and I was like, ‘That sounds like a youproblem.’”

Carmen snorted. “That’s the only correct response.”

Lizzie felt herself relax. This was… nice. She had spent so long on the outside of the sport, hearing about it through Lando, seeing snippets online—but this was different.

This was her being part of it.

“Also,” Kika said, giving her a knowing look, “I feel like we’ve been terrible hosts because we haven’t properly talked about the fact that you’re a bestselling author.”

Lizzie winced. “Oh, god.”

“No, no,” Rebecca said, grinning. “We have questions. So many questions.”

“Oh god,” Lizzie repeated.

“First of all,” Kika said, dramatically, “how dare you end An Autumn of Fire and Stone on a cliffhanger like that?”

Carmen, who had apparently also read it, groaned. “Yes! I need answers!”

Lizzie blinked. “Wait—you guys actually read my books?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Rebecca said. “We have a whole Season of Fate group chat.”

Lizzie stared. “I’m sorry—what?”

Carmen pulled out her phone. Showed her.

Sure enough—there was a group chat titled ‘Season of Fate Fangirls’ featuring all the WAGs.

“Oh my god,” Lizzie whispered.

“Lily Z. started it,” Kika said casually. “She’s obsessed.”

Lizzie turned to Carmen. “You guys have a group chat about my books?”

“Oh, yeah,” Carmen said, grinning. “We were losing our minds when you announced Book 4.”

Lizzie covered her face. “I don’t know whether to be honored or terrified.”

Kika laughed. “Both. Definitely both.”

Lizzie, feeling overwhelmed but in the best way, peeked out from behind her hands. “I—okay. I’m processing this.”

Rebecca patted her knee. “Take your time. But also—when are we getting the first movie trailer?”

Lizzie groaned. “You’re as bad as my readers.”

“We are your readers,” Kika pointed out.

Lizzie sighed. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

Carmen smirked. “Yep.”

Lizzie shook her head. But despite the teasing, despite the fact that she was being interrogated about the release date of a movie she legally wasn’t allowed to talk about yet—she felt… good.

Maybe, just maybe, she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

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hannie-dul-set · 29 days ago

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fire and brimstone (and you’re a moth made of gasoline) — FIVE.

SYNOPSIS. having fought tooth and nail out of high school, university, and law school, only to end up working for a law firm that basically serves as a clean up dog after the biggest organized crime group in the district, you thought you couldn’t get any lower than this.

the bar is in hell, and yet you’ve managed to limbo six feet beneath that. alternatively— na jaemin is the personification of hell, and your very existence just makes him even worse than he already is.

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader. GENRE. gang! au, lawyer! au, office! au, comedy, drama, romance, very light angst, this is a sitcom, hate to love(?), a somewhat questionable power dynamic, asshole! jaemin (my beloved…my kryptonite…) but he’s also an idiot, jaemin has an eye contact thing, inspired by the manhwas “weak hero” and “study group.” WARNINGS. an abundance of criminal activity (including but not limited to organized crime, fraud, blackmail, DUIs, unethical and illegal occupational practices, etc.), blood and violence, suggestive themes, eventual non explicit sex, jaemin with a tattoo, legal inaccuracies because i am not familiar with south korean laws, so i’m just using my own country’s as reference. also because this is just a stupid thirst fic. who gives a damn. WORD COUNT. 8.3k.

NOTE. landlord identity theft case was adopted from this reddit post that i heard on a podcast HAHHAHAH. anyway, there’s a bit less action in this one and a bit more set-up, but things do get heating in the latter part of this chapter so i hope that satiates you, my fellow freaks. as usual, please please do drop in your thoughts and comments! enjoy! NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED.

EVER SINCE YOU GOT BACK TO WORK ON THURSDAY, THE MURMURS WOULDN’T STOP. You’re not sure how it started or who started it, but you’re pretty sure some kind of information had been circulating while you were on your short leave because when a Yoosun employee came to your office early in the morning to pick up some documents— first thing on your agenda since coming back— his eyes immediately darted to your fucked up, bandaged up hands, and his face paled. He then proceeded to cover the upper half of his face as he warily walked up to the documents on your desk like he’s trying to evade a wild animal.

“I—I’ll be delivering these now, attorney, th—thank you! I wasn’t looking at you at all!”

Then he darted off like a rabbit being hunted down.

What the fuck?

That wasn’t the only instance. Every time you crossed paths with a Nalkeutta member that isn’t Mark or any of the executives, they’d immediately scurry away and avoid your gaze— even when you’re just trying to politely greet them. It started to annoy you, so you cornered Renjun to ask him if there’s something you should know about.

He explained that since you requested Mark to keep your whole stalker situation under wraps because it was personal, people had to fill in the gaps to supply the reason for your few days of absence. However the words “multiple injuries,” and “police station,” and “hospital bills,” managed to slip past the sworn secrecy, and the story somehow got twisted to you getting into a bar fight the night of your welcome party, and your poor victim got beaten half to death.

Apparently your messed up hands and unscathed face served as a confirmation to your alleged brutality. The cause couldn’t be attributed to your stalker, so everyone had to use their imagination. Now, there’s an ongoing rumor that you jumped a bar patron just because he was giving you eyes and it pissed you off.

“Is that how everyone perceives me?” you gawk in wonder and mild offense at their characterization of you.

“You walk around the halls looking like you’re one the way to kill someone, don’t act surprised when people start assuming that you already have.”

“Oh, come on! I did not kill him! He just barely got out of a concussion!”

Your mistake is deciding to corner Renjun in the breakroom— where everyone is free to enter and hear your gradually escalating conversation. You notice his Hyeongshin subordinates hesitating to walk in, looking like a group of deer in headlights and immediately avoiding your gaze the moment you direct your gaze, and they scatter off into the wilderness with murmured sorry’s and excuse me’s.

You realize that you just admitted to the crime they were alleging. Doesn’t matter if the facts got mixed up because at the end of the day, you did assault someone, you did do something out of your own character, and you do recognize the mirrored image that your actions reflected.

Before this, everyone was just mildly intimidated by you, your freshly ironed blazers, and your three-inch heels. Now, they’re all avoiding you and your gaze as if you’re some sort of batshit loose cannon like Na Jaemin.

That’s where most of the offense comes from.

“I just got really pissed off! I didn’t know what came over me!”

To bring yourself back down to normalcy, you decide to take advantage of the contact that had been recently added to your phone that you’ve yet to contact since— which is why you’re currently sitting in an Instagram staple bakery at the university district of Yeongdeungpo, Natty trying her best to nod along with your rapid fire complaints, and the fact that she’s having trouble trying to keep up and catch the questionable shit in your rhetoric might be a silver-lining.

“Don’t feel too bad, the creep deserved it,” she tries to assure, but it doesn’t pull through.

“I don’t feel bad nor do I feel guilty, but I do feel like a fucking barbarian and the way my co-workers look at me certainly isn’t helping my case.” She watches as you sink down with a groan and wallow in your yerba mate, totally clueless on what to say to make you feel better, but your despair is unsalvageable. “Someone even had to see me go apeshit. So fucking humiliating.”

“Were they a co-worker?” she asks. “Did that person yap to the rest of your office?”

“No, he’s the devil, but I’m pretty sure he kept his mouth shut at the very least,” you wail, face in your hands. If he did, then the narrative that you’re volatile and crazy wouldn’t be running around.

She cocks her head. “Isn’t that a good thing…?”

You pull up your face, revealing a grimace. “There’s nothing good about that freak. Natty, he was treating me like shit for weeks then suddenly switched gears when I swore at his face because I had enough of his shit. Who the fuck does that? He watched me beat the shit out of a grown man and thought it was hot. I didn’t even ask about it. He just aired out his kinks unwarranted, like, what the hell?”

She does not need to know that you’re talking about Na Jaemin. And she surely does not need to know about the fact that you’re under the same illegal company as him— your shared high school tormentor.

“If you like someone, don’t you wanna make things easier for them? But this guy seems to enjoy turning my work life into a living hell. Do you know how much overtime I had to take just because of him? God, It’s like he gets off of seeing me suffering and in pain. It just gets more confusing after he helped me with the whole stalker death threat situation.” And considering your history with him. You groan and massage the wrinkles on your forehead. “I have no idea how to deal with him. If I ignore him, he acts up. If I get mad, he eats it up like a psycho and does more shit to piss me off even more. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

You realize you’ve been rambling and flinch up to observe your companion’s reception. Surprisingly, she seems to be thinking deeply about it, a hum rolling off her tongue as she ponders over your situation, and you’re a little nervous that she’s gonna grill you about the identity of this guy, or something.

“Well, first of all—”

There’s a wash of relief when he doesn’t ask about his name.

“—is he hot?”

And that relief is immediately punted out the window to make room for your sheer and visceral discomfort at that single insinuation, of which you try your best to hide from your face. The ghost of Na Jaemin replaces the image of Natty sitting before you— an apparition of the breakfast you shared with him against your will thanks to a brief moment of value-drigen weakness. That blunt, as-a-matter-of-factness in the manner he admitted to his attraction. Completely unabashed like a self-assured asshole. That fucking smirk pisses you off to the depths of hell.

“He’s not ugly,” you grit, waving the parasitic image of him away. Natty’s eyes immediately sparkle. Like she’d only been trying to be interested before but now she’s actually, genuinely interested.

“Good enough,” she chirps. “If that’s the case, then just seduce him!”

What?

“Take advantage of his feelings! Don’t let him take control!” Her pure, unbridled enthusiasm is catching you off guard. “Does he piss you off just to get your attention?”

“Uhh, apparently…?”

“Great, then you gotta exploit that.” Suddenly, she’s tugging you out of your quaint cafe chair and dragging you out of the bakery like a woman on a newfound mission. “First thing’s first— shopping. C’mon, I know just the place.”

“I’m sorry, but what the hell led you to that conclusion?”

Natty stops to look at you like a disappointed mentor. “Honey, flirting is essentially psychological warfare. You gotta arm yourself in order to disarm the other person— which means we gotta update your wardrobe from flat and plain business casual to skirting the line of an office porno if you want him on his knees and doing everything you say. Don’t let him have the upper hand, girl. It’s time to retaliate.”

You really hate that she’s kind of making sense, but you’re not very keen on abandoning your workplace appropriate clothing in a building full of men— even when 80% of them have now been instilled with the fear that you may be a maneater— so you manage to stop Natty halfway from dragging you all the way to the boutique by pulling her attention to a trinket kiosk stationed near Byuksan High School.

“I need a new phone strap. Help me pick one out.”

You’re a professional in your mid-twenties. It’s not very gratifying to voluntarily join a bunch of teenage prep students whose schoolbags are heavily weighted by a despicable amount of keyrings, but you will if you must.

“I never pegged you as an accessory girlie,” Natty muses, jangling a string of pink charms and beads in the air to show off to you.

You snatch it from her, and toss it back onto the display baskets. “That’s because I have an image to maintain and that image has no room for bubblegum pink. Hand me that black chain one.”

“How does this translate to your image?”

“As a miserable reminder of how I’m chained to my job.”

Natty laughs and continues digging around the kiosk’s assortment of displays. You notice the very indiscreet stares of judgement from the highschool girls you and Natty are congregating with as you pay for your new phone strap, as well as a funny looking dog keychain that you think Haechan might appreciate. When the standowner hands you the paperbag of your purchases, however, you notice her looking past you with a disappointed expression on her face, clicking her tongue and shaking her head the moment you finish the transaction.

“Tsk. These hooligans just keep acting out in broad daylight. Someone oughta call the cops on these delinquents.”

Huh. You turn your head to where she’s looking at, and there you notice— from the sliver of an alleyway— a group of seven to eight Byuksan students cackling and surrounding someone or something. Then you direct your gaze to the school gates with the very evident Byuksan High logo decorating the iron bars to confirm. Byuksan has never been part of Nalkeutta’s union. You shouldn’t be in an area with active gang activity. They’re probably just a group of juvenile bullies picking on a classmate.

If that were indeed the case, you would have left right now.

But then you notice that the two people the Byuksan students are ganging up on are wearing the glaring set of red blazers that you’re far too familiar with—

“Whoa aren’t those two kids from Ganghak? What are they doing here?”

—and then your stomach drops. Because those two kids are from Ganghak. Not just students from Ganghak— you’ve seen them at the fucking office building before. Park Jisung and Oh Sion, clearly troubled by the situation because no matter how skilled of a fighter you are, eight people is way too much to handle.

The former is carrying a large duffel bag with him. Oh, for fuck’s sake, are they out on a job? You feel a headache coming. You bring a hand to your head and grit your teeth. This is trouble. This is gonna be so much trouble if they don’t manage to get out of this.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out as an internal debate is going on in your mind. Eight boys. A very enclosed space. What the fuck can you even do in this situation? God damn it all. “Natty, hold onto this for a sec.”

“Wait, where are you— hey!”

She yanks you back the moment she realizes you’re headed straight to the alley. You look back at her face riddled with alarm. “What are you doing?! Don’t tell me you’re actually planning on intervening. High schoolers are terrifying these days! They don’t give a shit if you’re a girl or an adult. Those punks might actually hurt you, you know.”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan.” No you fucking don’t. At least not yet. You’ll figure it out on the way there. “Just— ugh. Can you take a video from here? Make sure to get a clear shot of the Byuksan kids’ faces. And whatever happens, don’t even think about calling the police. Don’t.”

Natty looks baffled yet at the same time in awe. And then lets go of you with a relenting sigh. “Why are you even doing this?”

You blink. “...Alumni spirit?”

Now, you didn’t expect that to elicit any kind of effect, but Natty for some reason appears touched by the bullshit you just pulled out of your ass, and you suddenly feel guilty. “Is that…is that why you helped me out too?” she says with glassy eyes. “Gosh, you’re such a good person, you’re so cool. Go do your thing, attorney. I’ll back you up from here.”

Did she forget that you literally had no idea who she was until she spelled it out for you? However, there is no time to clear up the misunderstanding that you are, in fact, not the good person that she thinks you are because those two Ganghak kids might lose a bunch of inventory at any moment and subsequently lose their lives to either Mark or Na Jaemin— which just translates to more work for you in case it really does happen.

So before you can even iron out a plan, your feet are already racing towards the crevice, open phone in hand, and you dive in head first to whatever mess this is gonna be.

“Whoa. What kind of extracurricular activity is this?”

Catch their attention. Catch them off guard because what could be more bewildering than an adult woman in pumps suddenly sauntering into a clear bullying ring— swiveling her phone camera to catch their nametags and faces.

“Let’s see, who do we have here? Lee Hyunsung, Jeon Sangwoo, Cheong Jitae, and—”

“Hey, lady, what do you think you’re doing?”

One of them smacks your hand away the moment your phone nears his face. The kid looks a little annoyed and confused. Mostly confused. You sigh and pocket your phone. “I should be asking you the same thing.” Your eyes flit over to Jisung and Sion. They are also very confused, but mostly nervous— probably because you showed up. They looked like they were ready to throw hands prior to your interrupt, but that wouldn’t have ended in any way good at all.

This is not in your fucking job description. Whatever.

“You eight are clearly ganging up on these two boys over here. Don’t you know that bullying is a punishable offense? You boys should hurry along if you don’t want to ruin your college applications.”

The one in front of you— who you assume is their leader— just scoffs at your threat, eliciting the same amount of ridicule from the rest of his posse. “Seriously? Lady, these Ganghak bitches are walking around in our territory in broad daylight like they own the place or some shit. We’re just trying to teach them a proper lesson on respect and decorum.”

Your mouth twitches, a slight waver in the expression you’ve been maintaining. “Wow. Territory. Are you kids in some kind of gang or something? That’s an even graver crime. If I were you, I’d just let Ganghak off and protect the future I have in store.”

“Hah.” He juts his face forward, further into yours. You don’t flinch. “Or else what? You gonna report us, old lady?”

The other seven cackle. Your jaw clenches. Alright, that’s it. These kids are gonna fucking get it.

“Go ahead. But you gotta know that my dad’s a police officer— and he patrols this area. You can report us if you want but it ain’t gonna do shit, lady. This is our turf you’re on.”

You look at his nametag. Shin Hyunwoo. A smile curls on your lips. “Really?” Suddenly, all the confidence he’s wearing flinches the moment he’s forced to meet your gaze. You still have your phone out. You let him watch as you dial 119 for all of them to hear. “Wanna test your luck, kid?”

R—iiiiiiing. Ri—

“Yeongdeungpo Police Station. What’s your emergency?”

This is a gamble. A very risky gamble, but you’re pretty confident in your cards after being acquainted with the deck.

“Hey, can you get Officer Jung on the line? It’s important.”

The person from the other end of the line chokes upon recognizing your voice that the entire station is probably sick of at this point. “A—attorney!” And at that moment, your victory is sealed as horror and realization dawns upon the faces of most of the kids— all except their ringleader before you. “Y—yes, of course, one moment, please—”

A moment’s pause.

“Attorney, is there a problem? What do you need?”

Maybe you should have actually taken Officer Jung’s number last time. He’s proving to be very useful.

“Officer Jung,” you make sure to greet with an abundance of familiarity. You make sure to look at this Shin Hyunwoo kid as you do. “I just wanted to ask a question. Is there an Officer Shin in your station?”

All that confident, pubescent bravado slowly melts away. “Well, yes, we have three. Shin Haesu, Shin Junsik, and Shin Byungkwan.” The moment Shin Hyunwoo winces at the exact moment Jaehyun pronounces the last name, you know you have your guy. “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, well,” you exhale with a smile. “Between you and Officer Shin Byungkwan— who’s higher in rank.”

You’re met with one second of silence before Officer Jung finally responds with, “That would be me.” Thank god he’s going along without any question. Is this what Natty was talking about? “Officer Shin is just a patrol officer.”

Fucking jackpot.

“Thank you, that’s all I needed to know! Have a great day, officer!”

The call ends. You drop your hand and look at Shin Hyunwoo who’s red in the face and about to piss himself in embarrassment, and when you look around, the rest of his friends aren’t faring any better. One of them looks more pissed than anything and is about to lunge at you with a punch when you raise a hand to stop him.

“Land that punch and a police report is gonna go through. You think I came here alone?” The kid stumbles, biting down his tongue in anger. You sigh and run your fingers through your hair. “Seriously, you had to pull this stunt in broad fucking daylight with a bunch of people out and about. I have your names and faces. Try anything funny and you can kiss your future goodbye.”

You settle a tap on Shin Hyunwoo’s shoulder, who flinches upon contact.

“Now get lost.”

Somehow, your intervention worked. The eight Byuksan delinquents run off, but not without at least one of them calling you an old lady again and flipping you off. You remind yourself that you are an adult with adult-level maturity. Park Jisung and Oh Sion look at your approaching figure cautiously. “A—attorney,” the former greets with a bow, still clutching the duffel bag close. The latter sees this and mirrors his actions. You settle a few steps in front of them, arms crossed with a hefty release of breath.

“Is it only the two of you?”

“Y—yes. Jaemin hyung-nim sent us to pick up the commission and contracts from K Company.”

“Seriously?” What was that bastard thinking sending these two kids alone to lug around a giant sack of cash? Is he trying to test them, or something? Or maybe he just doesn’t give a fuck and sent the first two people he saw. That seems to match his personality more. Regardless this could have ended really badly. “Anyway, are you two headed back to Nalkeutta now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Stop being so stiff,” you huff, pulling out your phone to text Natty that all is good, and that she should go ahead because you offered to drive the Ganghak kids home. She responds almost immediately with puppy dog eye emojis and more gracious compliments about your goodwill and kindness. You shudder as a chill runs down your spine. “Well, let’s go. My car’s parked nearby. It’d be quicker and safer to just drive back to the office.”

The two follow you like a pair of lost ducklings. They settle into the backseat, not budging a single word even when you start the engine and start driving.

It’s only when you pull up in front of the company building that Oh Sion musters up his voice to say, “Attorney,” he starts. “You’re so cool.”

Your fingers twitch against the steering wheel. Your eyes flit up to the mirror to see the two boys looking at you with something akin to admiration in their eyes— respect, perhaps. You’re not quite sure. It’s new. Especially considering how your image has been tanked thus far.

“Wanna be cool like me?”

You settle an elbow over the seatrest, cocking your head to look at the two boys with a smile. Their eyes glimmer expectantly. You huff out a laugh.

“Quit Nalkeutta and get back to fucking school.”

That’s when you unlock the car doors and shoo them off. You don’t want to go back in there after already clocking out for the day. They bow goodbye from outside and you wave them goodbye, driving off.

You thought that’d be the last you’ll be seeing of those kids. Yet the next morning, you catch them loitering in front of your office, occasionally peeking through blinds as if you can’t see them, but you can. You very much can. It’s very hard to focus on drafting your contracts when there are two meerkats popping out intermittently through your office window.

“What do those two idiots want?”

Narrowing your eyes into the top of Park Jisung’s head peeking through the crack in the blinds, you’re just about ready to get up, get out, and just ask them what their deal is, but before your ass even leaves the comfortable cushion of your office chair, the door is sprung open— revealing the two boys being barrelled into your office by one Na Jaemin.

“Move it, move your fucking feet— oh, hey, attorney.”

To say that you’re unimpressed by the sight before you is an understatement. “First of all, learn to knock.” Na Jaemin simply brandishes you with a grin and a shrug. You give up with a sigh. “Second of all, what do you want?”

“Not me,” he answers, referring to the nervous pair that is Oh Sion and Park Jisung, who both swallow down a gulp in sync the moment Na Jaemin throws his arms around their shoulders. “These two have been hesitating to knock for the past thirty fucking minutes to the point that it got annoying. Thought they needed a little push and a shove.”

“How thoughtful,” you flatly say.

“What a good boss should be,” he muses a little too gratifyingly.

You roll your eyes as you switch the gears of your attention. “So, what is it?”

The two engage in a quiet argument for a moment before Jisung shoots Sion a look, and the latter finally grits up the courage to speak, albeit still nervous. “There’s—there’s just something I wanted to ask you, attorney. You know, as a professional…?”

This piques your interest. What kind of legal concerns would a high school gang member be facing?

“Go ahead.”

“Well, uh, hypothetically— if you find out that your landlord has been using your identity to apply for credit card loans…and when you find out and confront him about it, he threatens to file an eviction against you if you choose to press charges—”

Well, okay.

“Can he— can he do that?”

Oh Sion bats his eyes at you expectantly. You are, quite frankly, taken aback.

“Attorney…?”

Man, you were expecting a girl problem or a teacher inflicting corporal punishment. Not a whole fraud and identity theft case. “Sit down,” you grunt, beckoning him closer. Then your tired eyes flit over to Na Jaemin, whose attention seems to be provoked by the issue, so your mouth twitches into a sneer. “Jisung, you can stay. You. Get out.”

“C’mon, let me stay,” he whines, tromping over to land a hand onto your desk, leaning over. “This sounds interesting. I wanna see you attorneying this shit up.”

Natty’s advice wanders into your brain. Does he piss you off just to get your attention? Great, then you gotta exploit that. You gotta use everything within your disposal to make life in hell a bit more bearable.

“Na Jaemin.”

You start your first attempt at testing the waters— which is honestly a little nerve-wracking considering there’s always a chance of this biting you in the ass in the future.

But, fuck it. What more do you have to lose?

“I’ll have lunch with you tomorrow if you fuck off for the entire day. What do you say?”

The way Na Jaemin’s gaze shifts nearly makes you regret it at that very instance.

“Drinks,” he counter-offers.

What a pain in the ass. “Dinner,” you grit.

“Dinner tonight,” he presses. Then something on your desk catches his attention— which he promptly swipes and jangles in the air. “And this ugly dog thing.”

That ugly dog thing was supposed to be for Haechan, but whatever. “Alright,” you accept in defeat. “But you give me two days of peace instead of one. How does that sound?”

He flashes teeth at you, already taking a step back. “Deal.”

“Great. Now fuck off.”

Na Jaemin finally leaves your office, leaving behind two confused kids, staring at you like what the hell just happened. Park Jisung has been working here for a bit— even before Mark officially acquired you— so it must have been a bone-chilling shock to his boss to act like that. However, that is none of your concern, nor do you give a fuck about the image he’s projecting to his subordinates. “Sion-ah,” you turn. “Can you tell me more about your whole landlord situation?”

Park Sion tells you that it’s his father’s identity that their landlord has been using, and they’d only found out last month after receiving a letter in the mail that they owed a credit card company almost a million won— from an account his father never opened. This was followed by another letter from a different company. Sion doesn’t know exactly how it happened from simply overhearing conversations between his parents, but apparently their landlord had been using his dad’s name to open those accounts.

“I’ve only been eavesdropping since. They haven’t exactly brought it up to me so I don’t know the details…” he continues, trailing off hesitantly, looking down to his lap because he seems to be having trouble meeting your gaze. “We—we don’t have the money for a lawyer or anything, so I thought I could come to you for some advice, attorney. I—I understand if you don’t want to, though! Sorry, I—I just wanted to take my chances.”

You inhale sharply. Man. For fuck’s sake.

“Ugh.”

You’re not a charity worker. You’re not a god forsaken saint. You’re not motherfucking Mother Teresa. You have enough shit on your plate as is and playing pro bono for this case won’t do you any favors. You’re already neck deep and paperwork and you certainly have no intention of getting buried further underneath.

But—

“Um…attorney…? Is everything okay…?”

You sigh. You groan. You swing over to a drawer on your desk to fish out a business card sliding the same over your desk. You’re not happy about this, and that fact is definitely showing through your face. “Take this. Tell your parents to give me a call.”

Oh Sion jolts in his seat, blinking in disbelief. “Really?”

You’re really, really not happy about this, but your karma is bad enough already. Denying a kid in desperation would make you less than human at this point. You might be set on going to hell already, so the least you can do is hold onto the barest sliver of your humanity. “Yeah, just take it before I change my mind. If that’s all, then you two— shoo. Go. Leave. I still have work to do.”

Before you can wrack your brain about how in the world you’re gonna organize your planner spreadsheet from this point forward, Park Jisung, who’d been doing but being a silent pillar of support for Sion this entire time, adds another serving of stress to your already full plate.

“Attorney?” he raises, Oh Sion already halfway out the door while he remains inside. “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it this time?” you grunt, not even looking at him in order to preemptively nurse your incoming headache with a pen massaging circles into your temple as you continue your mental laments. Why hasn’t cloning been invented yet? Do you have to convince Mark to add another person to your department? That’s the only possible way you can handle Sion’s case without gumming things up in Nalkeutta. If that’s the case, then—

“Um...did you attend Ganghak in high school?”

The pen makes a hollow clatter against your desk.

“What?”

A million thoughts filter into your head in one, quick flicker.

“Close the door,” you say after a second’s pause. “How do you know that, Jisung-ah?”

“It’s just that…I saw some of the past yearbooks before, and I kinda recognized you when the boss was giving you a tour of the building,” he says before a tight swallow. You drill your eyes into him. He looks away. “And I, uh, also saw that you were in the same graduating class as Jaemin hyung-nim.”

This is great. This is so great for you. Fucking fantastic. You want to quit and die.

“I see,” you answer. You ponder. Every second of silence that passes adds another bead of sweat to Park Jisung’s forehead. Your fingernails clatter against the polished table of your desk. You look at him when you admit, “I did attend Ganghak for my last two years of high school. And I was in Na Jaemin’s class.”

There’s no point in denying it.

“This is a pretty funny coincidence, isn’t it? But I’d appreciate it if you keep this information to yourself, Jisung-ah.”

The only thing you can do now is damage control.

“O—oh! Yes, of course, attorney. I was just curious. I guess that would explain why you and Jaemin hyung-nim seemed so close.”

Close. You mask your sour feelings with a stiff smile. “Don’t mention this to him either. I’m not very fond of talking about my educational background. I’m only humoring you because you seem like a nice kid from my alma mater.” He nods profusely. You press your lips together even more. “Now run along. If Sion asks what’s keeping you, tell him you were just asking me how to apply for a driver’s license without parents’ consent.”

“Yes, ma’am! Thank you!”

The door shuts. At that very moment, you feel your shoulder melt as you sink into your chair.

Everything’s gotten fucked since you took Na Jaemin as a client. There’s no inherent issue about you going to Ganghak for a few years. The problem lies in the fact that during those years, you were Na Jaemin’s fucking alarm clock that he didn’t give enough of a shit to even remember. If he does remember, then he wouldn’t be ever so desperately trying to get in your pants at present. He’d be forcing your dignity down your throat the moment you blew up on him because what kind of alarm clock dares to look him in the eye?

He didn’t respect you enough to treat you like a human being back then. And if someone triggers that sense of recollection in him— you’d be done for.

He’s already a shitty co-worker as is, but at least you have his shitty feelings for you to take advantage of. If that’s overruled by the memory of you being his subservient, walking, talking, inanimate pushover of an alarm clock, then you’d have lost your sole and single leverage over him. Zero. None.

But there’s only one instance in which you’d even consider telling him about his forgotten history with you—

“Ugh.”

Your eyes flit over to your wall clock. Nine forty-three. Seven more hours before your dinner at gun point with him.

“I should pack some digestive pills.”

—and that’s if he ends up falling down, down the line of being far too in love with you to even care about that history. The odds aren’t in your favor. So you just have to continue living as is until your bluff wears out.

*ㅤ

“Your taste in restaurants doesn’t match the trash regularly spewing out of your mouth.”

That doesn’t mean you’d be acting like a doormat, though.

“Just shut the fuck up and eat, you ungrateful shit.”

You stick your tongue out before digging into the steak dinner he’s paying for. He says he thought you were a pushover until you started him like shit— so you might as well continue treating him like shit and sprinkle him the occasional bouts of positive attention, if that’s what gets him off. And what better way to tick off an egotistical freak than by talking about other men in front of him?

“Hey,” you start, wadding off the sauce lingering on your lips. “How receptive would Mark be if I bring in another lawyer into the company?”

Your theory is proven by the way his eyebrows twitch at the mere mention of Mark. “Fuck if I know,” he sneers, pointing an accusatory fork at you. “I take you to a nice, fancy dinner and the first thing you talk about is work. Is that all you plan on talking about?”

“Duh. Take a look at my workload. Do you think I have a life outside of this shitty job?”

Na Jaemin simply stifles a low chuckle at your bitter declaration, continuing to pick apart his meal.

“At least this pays better than the last one,” you sigh, continuing to wake your fork around. Your dinner companion seems to be enjoying your tragic monologue. “I swear. The moment I save up enough money, I’m gonna dip, move countries, change my name and buy a new identity so that Mark Lee won’t be able to chase me down.”

He swallows down a mouthful of food. “Should you be telling me all this?”

You snort, beckoning a waiter to refill your wine. “Why, are you gonna snitch on me to your owner? You’re more obedient than I thought.”

That provocation ticks him ever the slightest— evident in the strain on his jaw despite the apparent grin. You down your drink to mask a flinch of nervousness, but you push forward, setting the glass down as you lift your head up, batting your eyes prettily at him with a sweet smile as if you hadn’t just demeaned him. This catches him off guard, and whatever bite he was about to snark dissipates with a cough from him as he peers to the side and tugs on his collar, waving the same waiter for a glass of water, but in a much less polite manner than you did.

There’s a tug on your lips. Natty was right. You gotta make sure to give him a treat at least once a day so he doesn’t act out as an attempt to get your attention again.

“Na Jaemin,” you hum, eyeing him carefully. “Aren’t you curious about what your subordinates came to me for this morning?”

“Not really,” he answers half-heartedly. “Did they kill someone, or some shit?”

“Wow. Such a great boss,” you drawl. “They were your Ganghak juniors, you know.”

That was a fishing line. Just to get a read on what exactly he feels about his alma mater, which in turn may make your case better or worse in light of the fact that he doesn’t remember his history with you.

“So?” He simply raises a brow. “Am I supposed to give a shit?”

Yeah, you shouldn’t have expected anything more from him. “Whatever. Anyway—”

A phone call interrupts. As in, the default iPhone ringtone blaring from Na Jaemin’s pocket, which triggers his annoyance, but he pulls it out anyway to answer with a pissed off, “What?”

You pick apart your mashed potatoes while observing the way Na Jaemin’s expression twists and shifts from his usual hot-tempered annoyance, to being annoyed-confused, and then annoyed-stressed, based on the way he hisses into the phone while digging a claw into his hair.

“The fuck do you mean Lucy is vomitting?”

Oh. Oh, wow.

“I gave you one fucking job, you useless son of a—” His fit is extinguished by a loud groan, slumping back into his chair. You continue eating your food with heightened interest. This is a new look. This is nice. “Listen,” he continues into the phone, practically spitting venom. “You better be there when I get home. If you run away, I’ll kill you twice over.” Then he angrily sets his phone down on the table with a clatter.

You perk up with a curious gaze. “Trouble at home?”

Na Jaemin lets out a disappointed exhale. “As much as I’d hate to cut our date short, attorney—”

“Not a fucking date.”

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t give a fuck,” he dismissively says, focused on the watch on his wrist as he picks up his coat from the back of the chair. “I gotta go check on my daughter and stomp on the useless fuck I left to babysit her. Fucking son of a bitch.”

Well, that’s news. “You have a kid?”

“Yeah. Three.” He flashes you his phone screen. There are indeed three— three cats, that is. You buffer for a moment. The dots refuse to connect. He retrieves his phone before your brain finishes processing. “I was gonna give you a ride home, but—”

“I brought my car, It’s fine. Just go.” The mutt is a cat dad. Of fucking course. That makes sense. No it fucking doesn't. It’s almost terrifying to see him care for another living being. “And don’t forget about our deal.”

All he does is flash you a smile before dipping. What the fuck does that mean?

Whatever the case, when you finish your meal and attempt to bill out, you’re informed that everything’s been taken care of by the, quote-unquote, gentleman you were dining with. It really doesn’t sit well within your stomach that Na Jaemin now has you in debt— or maybe he’s doing this on purpose to manipulate you into spending more time with him. What a sneaky bastard.

Anyhow, the next morning, you’re deadset on fixing a solution to your excessive workload problem. So the first thing you do after clocking in is traversing the sets of stairs that lead to Mark’s office in order to negotiate the idea of bringing in a second lawyer into the company. You’d already texted your candidate last night and have arranged a friendly meeting later this afternoon. You don’t foresee any reason for Mark to object.

“There’s no issue with having another person onboard your team,” was Mark’s response to your concern. “But the main point of conversation is trust, attorney. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“I know,” you say. “I’ll be sure to vet you a trustworthy candidate.”

He gleams at you. “I look forward to it.”

The moment you leave Mark’s office, your lungs are refilled with a dose of air. “Great. Good. This is great,” you release with a huff, marching towards the staircase to the third floor.

You’ve stopped using the elevator since whenever you end up riding the same flight as anyone other than Mark or the four executives, they end up sweating like buckets as if they’d been trapped in the same room as an axe-murderer. It’s not very self-esteem boosting whenever your elevator companions immediately bolt off the second the doors crack open. You’d much rather take the extra effort than be implicitly insulted to your face.

The problem with this is that you have to pass by the stinky, sweaty gym to get back to your floor. And you’re just unfortunate enough to bump into Na Jaemin just as he’s finished his morning workout session.

“Oh.”

Your eyes meet. You flinch and shoot your gaze down. Big mistake because he’s wearing an almost translucent white tank top, making eye-contact with a whole load of chest instead, and you almost choke on your spit. “Uh.” You lose the timing to nonchalantly brush past him— and the bastard notices. Of course he fucking does with that smug grin on his face. But he honors the deal you made and settles with a simple good morning before taking a swig from his water bottle and walking off.

“Oh, hello again, attorney,” Mark gives a surprised yet pleasant welcome back to his office. “Did you forget something?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s none of your business,” you rapid-fire answer, back pressed against the closed door.

Your boss eyes you curiously, a smile playing on his face. “Well, you better finish your business soon because Renjun is waiting for you in your office. He’s requesting legal assistance for another external meeting over lunch. But you appear to be feverish. We can reschedule the meeting another—”

“No!” Your eyes widen. Mark raises a brow. “I—I mean, no, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine. I can join him. I’m just tired from climbing the stairs.”

“Well, alright,” he hums. “Now, off you go, then.”

This is perhaps the lowest point of your career. All you wanted was to avoid walking in the same direction as him, but your flight and fight kicked in. These in-office gyms are incredibly unprofessional and detrimental to overall company productivity. You’d submit a petition to take it down if only you had the fucking time.

“What are you muttering and swearing about like a lunatic? You’re scaring the grown men around,” is how Renjun greets you, but you look at him like he’s the second coming of Christ. Thank god you’d be spending the entire day out of the building. There’s no risk of bumping into that demon again.

The meeting is at a fancy brunch place, so you and Renjun order enough mimosas to get through this shitty meeting on company time, with company money. The both of you are always on the same page, it’s great. Even when the meeting has ended, you two loiter and talk shit at a nearby cafe instead until he eventually gets called back to the office— while you remain and wait for your fellow lawyer and future co-worker.

“Attorney Kim Jungwoo,” you greet him when he arrives. “How’s JJS treating you?”

Yes. You intend on dragging your old friend into this hell with you— a very well paying hell with a more tolerable boss. Of course, you ease him into it over frappes and cheesecake. He says life at JSS is the same as you’d left it: depressing, deplorable, and Kim Doyoung dumping all the work to his junior associates while taking all the credit. That’s your perfect segue to offering him a position at Nalkeutta.

“Unlike Doyoung, I’m giving you free reign, here,” you say, offering him the draft employment contract you quickly whipped up at 11 p.m. on caffeine last night. “You don’t have to sign or answer now. We can iron out the details later. I just wanted to present you with everything that we can offer.”

Jungwoo skims over the binded papers, interested. “You were pretty devastated when Doyoung sold you off, so this is a bit of a surprise,” he says, gaze flitting up with a hum. “What’s making you happy in Nakeutta, attorney?”

You learn back, mirroring his expression. “Page three.”

“Oh, yeah? Let me ch— holy shit. Are you sure this isn’t a misprint?”

“No, I cleared it with the boss earlier,” you boast confidently. “Also, there’s an in-office gym. That’s gotta be enough to convince you.”

Jungwoo says you’re making it very hard for him to refuse and you say that’s the point. You let him mull over the contract for a while longer while you finish up your frappe and zone out with the ambient cafe tunes.

It’s an afternoon weekday, so it isn’t very crowded. It’s peaceful. Quiet. Meaning the moment the sound atmosphere gets interrupted by the sound of a jingling bell, your attention is immediately strayed away by the noise, and your eyes widen— and you nearly choke on your spit for the second time today.

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss under your breathe, immediately darting around to look for a place to run off to. “Oh, fuck, don’t do this to me. Don’t you fucking dare do this to me, please—”

Jungwoo looks up from the document in concern. “Hey, you good, at—”

“Attorney.”

The sing-song tune of a third voice jumps in. “Fuck,” you repeat, unable to escape so you force your head up to acknowledge the looming and unwelcome presence. “Na Jaemin, I thought we had an agreement. It hasn’t been two days.”

He basks in your attention, pressing a hand against the backseat leather of the booth to lean into you. “Yeah, well our date got cut short last night so I figured my time sitting in the corner would too.”

“Ugh.” Your face falls into your hands. “Please tell me you’re here by accident. Please don’t tell me you deliberately came here to ruin my day.”

“Take a good guess, attorney. Had a nice chat with Renjun in the company lobby.”

You grit your teeth. That fucking snitch, you gotta knock him down a peg from your list of favorite co-workers. But that would mean Haechan would become first, but you don’t want to give that other asshole the gratification. Nothing ever goes right for you.

Before you can further lament the shittiness of your life, Jungwoo reminds you that he’s still here by clearing his throat, causing you to flinch and sit back straight to see the interested quirk on his lips as he sends insinuating glances between you and Na Jaemin. What kind of ideas is this guy getting? You can’t even dread that because you’re too busy thinking of a way to get out of this because if Jungwoo sees your co-worker— who’s already sending Jungwoo dirty glares— acting insane, he won’t take the delicious bait you spent all night preparing.

“Is this a co-worker?” Jungwoo playfully asks. “Aren’t you gonna introduce us, attorney.”

An idea sparks. Wait. Wait, hold on, this could work.

“Indeed. What great timing.”

You stretch your mouth into a smile and yank Na Jaemin down by the belt.

“Jungwoo, this is one of Nalkeutta’s executives— Na Jaemin. Jaemin, this is Kim Jungwoo. A former co-worker from JSS Law Firm.”

He came here with his own two feet. Might as well use the hell out of uselessness.

“Oh, I remember you!” Jungwoo cheerfully remarks, looking at Na Jaemin directly. Your former co-worker obviously doesn’t know better and you immediately gulp.“I saw you in the firm once. We didn’t get the chance to talk, but it’s nice to officially meet you, Na Jaemin-ssi.”

You hope your smile is enough to mask your nervous heartrate and you peer at Na Jaemin, noticing his pissed off annoyance from the way his upper lip twitches as he runs his tongue against bared teeth. “Yeah? You won’t be seeing anything much if you don’t keep your fucking eyes dow—”

Before you can think, you place a firm hand on his thigh.

Then you squeeze.

And he freezes.

Behave, you scratch into the fabric of his jeans. Please.

The three second pause that lapses before Na Jaemin finally returns the greeting felt like a three second dip into ice cold water. “It’s my pleasure, Kim Jungwoo-ssi.” And then you finally resurface from the ice with a relieved sigh because that was a close fucking call.

Still. You’re not allowed to rest just yet because while Jungwoo and Na Jaemin are having an unusually normal conversation, you sit there with the occasional auto-generated responses as you think about the possible consequences of your prior actions— and the fact that you did this. You made Na Jaemin do this. You. He’s currently exchanging his gym routines with Jungwoo who’s making firm eye contact with him when otherwise your poor friend would have been flung to the other end of the cafe by now like everyone else that came before him.

This is fucking insane. You’re not sure how you’re feeling about this.

“Sorry, excuse me for a sec,” Jungwoo says, looking down at his phone. “Doyoung’s calling. Gotta take this.”

He gets up to leave the cafe and you take this opportunity to make a run for it too. “I—I gotta use the rest—eep!”

Na Jaemin yanks you back down into the seat cushions and settles a firm hold around your hips, pressing a firm squeeze to your thigh as he leans closer like some form of revenge for all the crap you pulled on him earlier. “Did I behave well enough for you, attorney?” he muses, hot breath hitting the side of your face. “But this deal is gonna cost you a lot more than just dinner.”

A chill runs down your spine. Yup. You knew there were gonna be consequences. You should have thought things through.

fire and brimstone (and you’re a moth made of gasoline). © hannie-dul-set, 2025.

#na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #jaemin fanfic #jaemin au #na jaemin x you #jaemin x you #nct x you #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct au #na jaemin smut #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct scenarios

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kxsagi · 2 months ago

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OUGHHHH MAY FIRST CAME 😈 at least here in Poland. You can ignore this if it’s something you don’t wanna write btw!!!

Can I request BL men that are already pro players, and they’re dating a reader that has chronic pain and uses mobility aids because of it? And the media is super weird ab it cause how dare a pro athlete date a disabled person. Maybe he comforts her because she stumbled upon a weird ass article or a hate comment idk.

Uhhh ness shidou bachira and whoever u want 🙇‍♀️ I love you and your writing I hope you have a good day!

SORRY if this is too specific. Shout out to my fellow disabled girlies 😔✊

“𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝”

a/n: NOOO I LOVE THIS, I LOVE YOU AND YOUR COMMENTS AND I AM SO HAPPY I GET TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU

ft. ness alexis, shidou ryusei, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi

ness alexis

ness is literally the definition of a gentle boyfriend, so the moment he sees that one trashy gossip headline – “Pro Athlete Seen With Disabled Girlfriend: Fans Concerned?” – his jaw drops like someone just slapped him.

“concerned for what?” he whispers like he’s in a horror movie.

you find it first, though. you're just scrolling while curled up on the couch, using your heating pad, when you freeze mid-scroll and go, “hey, do you wanna see something funny, but soul-destroying?”

ness peers at your phone and immediately climbs onto the couch to wrap himself around you like a human blanket. “do not let stupid people ruin your mood. you are my favorite person. also, what is this site even called? ‘goalz4gossip’? this looks like it was made by a 12-year-old with an ipad and rage issues.”

he goes on a small rant in german under his breath and then kisses your forehead 400 times.

“you’re literally the strongest person i know. the media can go date each other if they’re so pressed about us.”

shidou ryusei

shidou finds a comment that says, “how is she even keeping up with a guy like him? she uses a cane 💀” and immediately screenshots it.

not because he agrees, but because he wants to roast it on his private story.

his post is just a screenshot with the caption: “buddy she keeps up with me just fine, she made me cry last week for stealing her fries. sit down.”

shidou doesn’t sugarcoat stuff, but he’s aggressively supportive. like, if someone tries to come at you sideways in public, he’ll bark at them.

literally bark.

“you okay, babe?” he says when you look a little too quiet after seeing one of those backhanded articles.

you shrug and say, “i’m fine,” but he doesn’t let it go. he walks over, squats in front of you, rests his chin on your lap and goes, “wanna egg their office building? or better yet, light it on fire and commit arson together?”

instead of actually committing a felony, he picks you up bridal-style and plops you into bed. “you’re hot, you’re smarter than me, and you walk cooler than 99% of the population. who cares what some sweaty journalist thinks?”

he also gets you custom accessories for your mobility aids with little flames or skulls ‘cause you’re metal like that.

bachira meguru

bachira is completely unbothered by the hate. but super bothered when it makes you upset.

like you’re sitting in the park one day and overhear someone whisper “is that her? the one with the crutches?” and he notices how you instinctively stiffen.

he grabs your hand instantly, leans into your ear and whispers, “they’re just jealous you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

always trying to turn the moment silly so you smile again.

later, when you’re spiraling a bit in your room reading too many mean reddit comments, he flops beside you dramatically.

“stop. too much screen. i’m gonna fart on your phone.”

you shove him away laughing, but he tugs you close with a pout.

“you know… they don’t get to have you. i do. and i think your pain doesn’t make you less, it just makes you stronger and cooler. like a character in an anime who gets up anyway, no matter what.”

then he insists on decorating your mobility aids with googly eyes and doodle stickers cause “it’s armor now. i’m your sidekick. beep beep.”

michael kaiser

he acts unbothered in public, but he absolutely loses it behind the scenes when he sees an article titled, “Can a Pro Like Kaiser Settle for Someone Like Her?”

“settle for– oh okay. okay. no one tell my manager i’m about to commit slander with a side of defamation.”

you find him aggressively typing in a notes app. “dear anonymous hater from 'SoccerDailyBuzz': how does it feel knowing you could never even get a date with her, much less someone who calls you ‘baby’ while making espresso at 6 AM?”

turns his anger into sarcasm but also kisses your shoulder after every sentence to calm himself down.

“i didn’t fall in love with your pain, but i fell in love with the way you live through it. your stubbornness, your fire, the way you still make fun of me even when you’re hurting. that’s what makes you beautiful, you know? wait, that sounds so cheesy.”

he makes a point to show you off even more. red carpet? he’s holding your hand the whole way, mobility aid and all. interview? he’s saying “my girlfriend is the strongest person i know” before anyone even asks.

he sees your worth so clearly. and he makes damn sure everyone else does, too.

itoshi sae

sae’s already got a reputation for being cold and unbothered, so people are shocked when he’s openly soft around you.

he doesn’t do PDA or gush about you on TV, but the way he always slows his pace to walk beside you, carries your bag without a word, and makes sure you’re seated comfortably before interviews, it’s noticed. and, of course, dissected.

you show him a headline that says, “What’s Sae Itoshi Doing With Someone Who Can’t Even Keep Up?”

and he reads it with a completely neutral expression, then tosses your phone face-down on the table and goes, “well, that’s funny. you seem to keep up just fine when you’re lecturing me at 2 AM about leaving the stove on.”

you burst out laughing, but he looks at you with the tiniest furrow in his brow. “does it bother you?” he asks quietly.

you admit it hurts a little. and he just nods, slides over, and presses his forehead to yours.

“they don’t get to know you. they don’t see how hard you fight. how much you endure. they don’t see you the way i do. and that’s their loss.”

next time you two are seen in public, he’s the one walking with your cane slung over his shoulder like a sword. the caption on the paparazzi pic reads: “new accessory or relationship statement?” yes. yes to both.

itoshi rin

rin already hates the media, so this gives him another reason to despise them.

when someone tweets, “idk i just think it’s weird for a high-performing athlete to date someone who can’t even do sports,” he literally glares at your phone like it personally insulted him.

“what the hell does that even mean. i can’t do ballet, but i’m not out here judging people who can.”

he’s blunt, but he’s furious on your behalf. he’s also the type to go down the rabbit hole of comments and get angrier by the second.

when you try to downplay it – “it’s fine, i’m used to it” – he looks at you like you just said gravity isn’t real.

“don’t do that. don’t act like you have to take it just because people are cruel. they’re wrong.”

then, more softly: “you’re… more than what your body lets you do. and i fell in love with you, not your physical stats.”

rin shows his love by doing things for you. adjusting your seat. finding the best accessible routes. learning how to help without hovering.

someone once asked him in an interview, “how does your girlfriend feel about not being able to travel as easily to your matches?”

rin deadpans: “she’s the reason i win. so unless you’d like to speak directly to my motivation, maybe pick a better question next time.”

isagi yoichi

isagi is the type who genuinely doesn’t understand how people can be so heartless.

like he reads one awful comment and goes, “... do they think you’re not allowed to be loved?” with genuine confusion in his voice.

he’s devastated that you saw it. “you shouldn’t have to read stuff like that. i promise i’ll protect you from it all.”

you shrug and tell him you’re used to it, and he immediately goes into ‘motivational team captain’ mode.

“you being used to it doesn’t mean you have to accept it. people suck. you’re brilliant, and funny, and beautiful, and strong in a way most people will never understand. and you don’t have to prove your worth to anyone.”

he holds your hand tighter when you’re out in public. makes a habit of stopping to adjust your pace so you’re never rushed.

also, he subtly drags anyone who says anything ableist during interviews.

“a lot of people think strength is just about running or scoring goals, but i’ve learned from my partner that real strength is showing up every day, even when your body fights you. that’s the kind of strength i look up to.”

cue the internet sobbing. cue you sobbing. cue him also sobbing because he made you cry and didn’t mean to.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #ness alexis x reader #alexis ness x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #bachira meguru x reader #meguru bachira x reader #kaiser michael x reader #michael kaiser x reader #media can stay mad

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needtobehisprettyboy · 27 days ago

Text

Jayce's end speech to Viktor is not profound—not to me at least

I know people have already talked about this but I wanted to rant about it too cause it's been bothering me for a few days and it's one of the reasons why I don't interact with the monogamous JayVik side of the fandom much besides reblogging some things I find cute and liking posts. The shippers are ok, but the source material that they often reference really annoys me -.-

I don't blame JayVik shippers or anyone else who talks about the scene for finding it really romantic and/or deep. In another show, the scene likely would be 100% and the writers themselves (that Amanda and Linke who shouldn't be trusted) talk about it like it's soooo magical and wonderful and awe-inspiring. Depending on how you interpret the scene, it definitely can be.

Unfortunately, the scene just rubs me the wrong way. Disabled people on reddit and no doubt on Tumblr have addressed their dislikes of how the scene went. In general though, it just didn't touch on the true issues at hand.

While I'm not disabled, I have had the 'just love yourself' bit of advice from multiple people and?? Ok?? How does that help me in a world that hates people like me?? I learned to love my body, but various people treat me differently because of it. I learned to love my skin color, but I won't ever be treated like my white counterparts. I learned to accept my transgender identity, but I will still be considered a degenerate freak regardless.

Whether you love yourself or not isn't the issue. It's others loving you or not that is. It's law enforcement looking down on you. It's politicians not properly acknowledging your struggles (if they even acknowledge them at all) that's the problem. It helps to love yourself, but your love and acceptance of who you are isn't the magical fix all.

‼️CW: ‼️⚠️‼️ discussion dealing with death / a close death encounter ‼️⚠️‼️

‼️SKIP IF YOU WANT‼️

Not to mention, Viktor had every right to be upset with his deteriorating health. What I just said applies to this too—it doesn't matter if you love yourself or not you'll still have issues that won't go away. It's a horrible fact to live with (having physical issues that can't be solved with self love) which is especially true for people who think they're just wasting away.

I actually had a close encounter with slow death. It is sincerely horrifying feeling yourself get weaker and wonder whether something serious would happen. I can't imagine knowing I'm going to die and not have a way to get better. My brush with death was entirely preventable and I got better (by not letting myself breath in carbon monoxide omfg), but Viktor couldn't get better. He was heading towards his death bed. It just messes me up having people brush over that. I mean come on!! That man was going through some serious shit!!

I still feel fear over what happened to me even though I knew how to prevent it!!! What he went through was not addressed properly at all. It was NOT "imperfections" he was about to fucking die and that kind of experience makes you feel a cold dreaded desperation. IT ISN'T SOMETHING TO DISMISS NOR THAT CAN BE FIXED WITH SELF LOVE!!! There is no beauty in helplessness. It would be one thing to accept death and know that you can't always change your fate, but that wasn't what was talked about.

AAAA I HATE YOU TWO BASTARDS (the writers not JayVik)

‼️end of CW‼️

Arcane is a show that doesn't have in-world homophobia or racism (thank fuck please continue that), but it still has classism among other types of oppressions. I don't quite know if it has ableism—if you think it does let me know cause I'm always open to new info and different perspectives.

Viktor's main problem was his terminal illness which was caused by outside sources and wanting to make a real impact on the world. Jayce himself said Viktor suffered from pollution from the undercity. No doubt because of the different availability of treatments in the undercity and Piltover's government not giving a shit to help those they're responsible for, he wasn't able to get it caught in time which led to his terminal illness developing/worsening before his work was done.

And Viktor told Heimerdinger about wanting to be remembered!! He got a decent way up the social ladder for someone coming from the undercity who didn't have a patron or a house to his name, but he would've gone much further if he was from Piltover. It wasn't that Viktor thought his disability was a "weakness", it was that his illness was killing him and he KNEW other people viewed him as less than for things he couldn't control. I mean Jayce might have looked down on him too or been wary of Viktor for being from the undercity had he been told up front. Viktor's illness wasn't a weakness, it was something that stopped Viktor's dream path with other factors such as his place of birth being obstacles he managed to overcome—somewhat.

I don't know that it was necessarily because he was disabled that people looked down on him. Maybe part of it was (I SINCERELY don't know whether Arcane would have in-world ableism regarding Viktor's disabilities), but part of it was DEFINITELY because of where Viktor came from. Also, his main objective in leaving Jayce, and even before he left, was to help people. It wasn't to "fix" imperfections. That came after.

While Jayce was off playing councilor, Viktor was working on Hextech and wanted to show it off as soon as they showed some good progress. He didn't have time to wait around because of his TERMINAL illness, so he wanted change now and tried to change himself to let him live longer, not simply because he thought he was "imperfect".

For goodness sake people are allowed to want to change their situation for the sake of survival!!

Arcane fumbled the ball by making Viktor's objections change and try to act as if those were his main objectives all along when it was shown ON SCREEN that the Hexcore was corrupting/influencing him. His dreams were pure, nice and they ended up becoming corrupted because he descended into Godhood not understanding what his "help" was doing to people and having his humanity stripped away. Viktor wanted other people's suffering to end, but that wasn't the problem. Wanting people to get proper help for their issues wasn't wrong—it was the WAY he went about it that was wrong.

That's a good plotline right there yet it was ignored/misconstrued.

Jayce's speech of imperfections just didn't make sense.

Not with what we know of the previous context!!

Viktor's illness wasn't something to be ignored and things wouldn't have changed if Viktor "loved" himself. It had nothing to do with loving himself!! That wasn't the root cause!!

It horrified me that Jayce resurrected Viktor especially with Viktor saying he didn't feel cold anymore after he was revived aka he didn't have the same human feelings he should've. The resurrection CHANGED him. He didn't reject humanity. It was taken away from him!!

Jayce's speech just didn't fit with what truly caused the situation. At the end of the day, this was only caused by Viktor's and Jayce's desire for Viktor to survive. If they weren't so desperate for him to live, Viktor wouldn't have gone to Singed, got the shimmer, used it on himself, experimented, etc, etc and Jayce wouldn't have revived him without his consent. There was nothing inherently wrong with them wanting Viktor to survive but they did cause horrible things due to how they went about it yet somehow the show acts as if it is inherently wrong and points out the issues BUT IN THE WRONG WAY?? As if Viktor just wanted to not be disabled bc he wanted to be a better person or something and not bc he was about to die??? As if Jayce forcing Viktor into being merged with the Hexcore that killed Sky wasn't a big issue?? As if either of them were gonna accept Viktor's progression and that all Viktor had to do was accept himself the way he was???? What?? WTF?????

Of course, I'm really focusing on one part of the speech. Like I said earlier, depending on your interpretations the scene would be cute, but just hearing Jayce not get the overall fucking point was annoying. It's not his fault tho bc to be fair, he did get the job done and let Viktor finally rest in peace—

It's the damn writers' fault (•\ _ /•*) !!

People act as if the scene is so cute and I can't really tell them that they're 100% wrong because it IS written as Jayce being sincerely understanding and accepting and Viktor was shown to appreciate his words, but I just can't get over the fact that the true issues were overlooked. "Beauty in imperfections" my ass. There was another lesson that should've been taught about acceptance and it wasn't that one.

Ugh, I really hate seeing the scenes pop up on my dash and people quoting it or whatev. That and them making it a meme of Viktor becoming God because of a gay break up as if he didn't have every right to be upset over Jayce reviving him using a dangerous method without his consent and, in fact, with an explicit request for the thing involved in said dangerous method (the Hexcore) to be destroyed.

Rip my poor girl Sky... deserved more than what happened to you (⁠T⁠_T⁠) and sorry Mel that the writers made JayVik's relationship (platonic or not) "deeper" than what you had with Jayce as if you're not special too (⁠个^个⁠) each one of you guys (Jayce, Viktor, Sky, Mel, etc etc) deserved better ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´∆`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

UGHHHHH I HATE THOSE TWO+ ANTI SEMITIC, RACIST, IGNORANT BASTARDS!!!!

Arcane would've probably been better if they weren't in charge ((⁠ノ⁠｀⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻ !!!!

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lokisprettygirl · 2 months ago

Text

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read chapter 2 here

Chapter 3

Summary : After online bullying you decided to not continue but Eric won't let you quit.

Warning: Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, reader lacks bit of a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

You turned around immediately and called Jake but he didn't pick up. It was 5:50 am. You felt the panic building up and it was as if you'd collapse if you won't sit down right then. So you ran back home as fast as you could, you didn't want to go there anymore, didn't want to face any of those people who may have seen her post and read the comments.

You didn't want to face Eric.

For some reason you couldn't stop imagining the worst. Eric and Regina, cozying up together and laughing at all the comments.

As you reached back to your apartment you dumped your duffel bag on the floor before you crawled into the bed, your arm wrapped around Jake's back and that's when you broke down in tears again.

A few seconds later he shifted in his sleep.

“Are you back already?” He immediately sat up, grabbing his phone to check the time..it was barely six.

“Thank god” he murmured as he turned to face you “What's going on?” He asked as he found you sniffling

“Can you just hold me?” You asked him so he sighed and wrapped his arm around you.

A cry baby. That's what he called you. You cried at the drop of a hat. Somebody raised their voice, you cried, someone was rude, you cried, a minor inconvenience and you cried so this was really a big deal for you. You had never felt so humiliated before. You knew that picture would go around, being shared on reddit and tumblr and whatnot as a joke. You didn't want to tell Jake but he'd eventually find out.

“What happened? I asked you a question..” he asked again so you pulled away from him..

“I texted you yesterday that I met Regina Blanc at the gym right?” You said to him as you wiped your tears so he hummed, you could tell he just wanted to go back to sleep as he'd have to be at the hospital soon.

“She was really nice to me..we got to talking and she clicked a selfie with me” tears welled up in your eyes again, he almost rolled his eyes.

“Continue, honeybear?”

“She posted it on her instagram last night..you know she has like 2 million followers.. and they just..they were so mean” you broke down in tears again, scooting closer to feel his warmth but he pulled you away from him.

“What picture? Show me?” He asked you so you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and gave it to him.

As soon as he saw the picture he grimaced visibly.

“Why would you let her post this?” He asked you as he opened the comment section.

“I didn't..she said she wanted to post..I just..-”

“You just what hmm?” He asked as he sat up and began to pull his pants up. “Are you blind or something? Have you seen the picture? What were you expecting really? Like look at yourself and look at her” he said as she shoved your phone in your face before he stormed into the bathroom.

He was embarrassed. As he should be but it still hurt. You didn’t move. You couldn’t.

The phone slipped from your hands and landed somewhere on the mattress, the screen still glowing faintly in the early morning light. Jake’s words kept echoing in your ears

“Look at yourself and look at her.”

Like you weren’t even in the same species as her.

You laid there, frozen, each breath shaky and shallow, trying not to cry again because you knew how much he hated that. But the tears came anyway. Quietly. Shamefully. You pressed your hand against your mouth to muffle the sound as he came out of the bathroom.

“Ask your new bestie to delete it before my colleagues or god forbid my family members get a grip of it alright?” He said as he dressed up.

“Where are you going?” You asked him, voice still broken from the crying.

“Well my sleep is ruined now ..I'm going to the hospital”

“No stay..I'll make breakfast” you sat up immediately but he glared at you.

“I don't think you're in a position to make me anything right now”

You flinched like he had slapped you.

He slipped his watch on with that same cold detachment, grabbed his bag, and walked toward the door.

You heard the sound of the door thudding loudly as he left.

Your phone kept buzzing with new notifications so you picked it up. There was a message from Eric

Eric : You're late

You sniffled before you typed out your response

You : I'm sorry i wasted your time. I won't be able to continue

You sent the message, a part of you wanted to delete it but he had already seen it. Another thing you couldn't keep up with. Jake was right, you didn't take it seriously, no wonder he wasn't too keen on taking you to see his parents.

No Response came from Eric for a few minutes. Why would he care, you thought? You were just a client, another client that stepped into his gym for a day and then never returned.

You weren't really expecting any response from him but then your phone buzzed again. You began making excuses in your head already as to why you didn't want to continue.

Eric : Is it about the picture?

You sat up as you read the message. You weren't expecting that. Not from him. Did he feel bad for you? Probably not. He just wanted to keep a paying client.

You : No

You responded, not wanting him to see how much it has affected but then he surprised you again.

Eric : You don't have to lie

You sighed before you typed again.

You : Well then yes. It's my fault, i looked a mess and i should have told her I wasn't comfortable with it being posted publicly.

*Buzz buzz*

You read the response and he took you by storm again, you were expecting a pitiful response but not this.

Eric : You looked happy

You didn't know why but those three words made your eyes well up again. There was no over exaggeration. He just put it plainly.

You : For a minute i was

You : But then it all came crashing down

You stared at the screen, the conversation unfolding in a direction you hadn't expected. You didn't expect him to care at all. You had already paid for six sessions, he wasn't the one who had anything to lose here.

Eric : Why? Because a bunch of faceless trolls with miserable lives typed out their frustration?

You couldn't help but snicker at the response.

You : Easy for you to say

What would he know? He was Regina's boyfriend, people loved him and then as a couple. He was 6 '4, well built, handsome man with one of the most unique looking faces you had ever seen.

Eric : Might be. Doesn't make it any less true. You showed up to a place even though you didn't feel as if you belonged here. That's courage. Don't stop because some jealous, jobless freaks want to pull you down.

You took a deep breath as you read the message.

Courage. No one had ever used that word for you before, not without the intended mockery. You felt the tears sting your eyes again, but this time it wasn’t shame dragging them out. It was something warmer, something you weren’t used to. You typed the message as you wiped your tears.

You : I just feel like everyone would laugh at me

He responded immediately

Eric : Nobody would. The real world is not instagram, you'd be surprised how many people can only grow a spine behind a screen.

Eric : Besides. I don't tolerate bullying here, it's a safe space for everyone. If you feel like you're being mocked, you come to me. I'll handle it

His answer brought a sudden surge of encouragement in your veins.

His message shouldn’t have made you feel better—but it did. There was something oddly grounding about the way he phrased it. Not soft, not pitying, just matter-of-fact. Like you did belong there.

You : Why are you being so nice?

Eric : I'm not being nice. I'm your personal trainer. It's part of my job to keep you motivated.

You : It's 6:30.. should I come tomorrow then?

You couldn't see it but on the other side Eric's mouth had curved into a genuine smile. That was rare for him.

Eric : Come now if you want to. I'm free till 8

You peeled yourself out of the bed and the self pity to quickly wash your face, then you grabbed the bag and ran out of your apartment.

You reached the gym just before 6:47. The lights were already on inside. You hesitated at the door, pulse thudding a little too fast but then you entered.

As he looked at you he didn’t smile, not fully. But his face softened, and he gave you the smallest nod, like you had passed some kind of silent test just by showing up.

“Twelve minutes,” he said, glancing at the clock. “Not bad”

“I ran all the way” You gave a small shrug, trying to steady your voice.

“Good. That counts as your warm-up.”

You rolled your eyes, but something in your chest loosened.

You’d made it. You were here. And somehow, that felt like a win. You weren't going to give up.

“Ummm I'm still sorry about it” you said as you followed him into the gym area. The black gym t-shirt he had on hugged his ripped physique tightly. If you had any knowledge of anatomy you would have been able to name every muscle.

“About what?” He asked nonchalantly, shoving aside the whole mess as if you hadn't wasted his last hour.

And you were grateful for it .

For the first time in your life you touched the weights, but Jake always told you that he wasn't into the whole muscle barbie movement women were on these days so you were worried about it.

“Ummm i don't want to get too muscular” he rolled his eyes as you said that.

“You think you'll start to look like the incredible hulk after pumping 5 lbs?” he asked. He had a lot to teach you about anatomy it seems.

“No?”

Chest press. Shoulder press. Lat pulldown down. 3 sets of each had your shoulders and arms burning. But he wasn't done with you. You did six more exercises, all of it involving your upper body in some capacity. Much to your surprise you did enjoy exercising with weights much more than the hell that was burpees and jumping jacks.

“Come to the gym tomorrow in the evening or anytime you want” he said to you as you were signing your exit on the register.

“I'm just so clueless without your help” you let out a small chuckle.

“I'll help”

He said to you, you looked at him to be sure he wasn't joking.

“I'm only paying for alternate sessions”

“I know..i said I'll help” Eric said again.

You nodded before you turned to step out of the gym. You were half an hour late for work but you figured you'd make an excuse. On the way to work you called Regina, you felt nervous but you really needed that picture deleted before Jake would get even more upset or god forbid his colleagues find it.

She didn't pick up your call so you texted her.

You : Hey Regina. It's y/n..can you please delete the picture you posted of us? I just don't feel good about myself

You texted her, it was delivered but she hadn't seen it yet.

At the library you kept checking your phone, around 2 in the afternoon you finally got the response.

Regina : Sure

That's all she sent. You didn't know why but it sounded off, you checked the instagram but it was still there. When another hour passed you messaged her again.

You : Ummm it's still up”

She was quick to respond this time.

Regina : Girllllll I am busy :) ? I'll do it soon..i asked you and you seemed fine with it yesterday.

You : Yeah but ..I just..it makes me uncomfortable.

She saw the message but didn't respond afterwards.

You understood that she was busy but it takes a second to delete a post. Why didn't she just delete it?

**********

In the evening Regina entered The Crow at her usual time. Not one single strand of hair was amiss.

“Hey can you sign?” Chance asked her so she rolled her eyes.

“No?”

She entered the gym area and as she spotted Eric she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

“Can we make a video today?” She asked him, he brought his fingers up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I have clients until 8.. tomorrow?” She sighed before she nodded. Her phone buzzed so she took it out of her wallet.

“God why can't she just let it be?” She said in frustration, Eric's brow quirked up in curiosity, usually he preferred to keep himself far away from her Social Media drama until or unless she was being bothered or hurt by someone.

“What happened?”

“It's that girl y/n.. she wants me to delete the picture”

She said, as if it was a huge inconvenience to her.

“Do it then” she looked up at him to match his eyes as he said that.

“Did you see how many likes it has?” she chuckled.

“Did you read the comments?” He retorted immediately as he pulled her away from him.

“Those are just trolls..they have never bothered you when I post our pictures”

She chuckled again.

“It's not about me though. It's about y/n. She feels humiliated by it so just delete it” he said to her, his voice firm “Besides she's a client here. She's paying to get better..not for online bullying..it's bad for the business” he added as he realised he sounded a bit too agitated.

“Fine..I'll do it.. I thought this was cute..she looked fine to me” she huffed as she went to her profile and deleted the picture.

He almost responded with She did but caught his lips at time. Regina wasn't outright mean, she just loved attention and sometimes at the expense of others.

“Done..happy?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around him again.

“It's not about me”

“I know I know.. listen, do you have five minutes?”

She asked as she bit on her lips. He knew that look very well so he smirked.

“I might”

She squealed as she grabbed his arm and took him to the small room in the back where he often rested in between the clients.

********

That day when you reached home and opened the instagram you let out a breath of relief as the picture was now gone from her profile and so were those horrible comments.

“Thank you”

You texted Regina and then you texted Jake to let him know that the picture was deleted.

That night your mom called you, she was chronically online and she followed Regina so she must have seen the photo. You already had a paragraph of text sitting in your inbox from her but you didn't want to open it

“Look I got it deleted so it's all good” you said to her because she was getting hyper.

“Dear God y/n, do you ever think about Jake when you do these things? He's a prestigious doctor for god's sake”

You hummed as she said that before you made an excuse and hung up on her.

Next day at the gym you saw Regina running on the treadmill so you took the one next to her. You couldn't help but stare at her figure, how come she looked like that? You couldn't find a flaw in her.

“Hey..I'm sorry if I was rude yesterday” you said to her, hoping she wasn't upset.

She didn't respond to you but then she slowed down the elevator and took her airpods out.

“You said something?’ she asked you so you repeated.

“Oh nevermind. I was just busy or I'd have done it sooner, I don't get time to breathe-” she groaned as she wiped the sweat from her face with her towel. “You know how it is..brand deals, promotions, events and I gotta post daily vlogs for my fans ..it gets so hectic” she smiled so you nodded

“I get it”

Regina smiled, satisfied with your acceptance of her situation, and popped her AirPods back in without another word. You tried to focus on your treadmill, but all you could think about was how casual and dismissive she seemed as compared to yesterday.. maybe you had pissed her off.

You finished your run and stepped off the machine, muscles still sore from yesterday’s session. As you reached for your water bottle, you felt a presence beside you.

As you turned it was Eric.

“Come with me,” he said to you so you nodded.

You followed him through the gym, past the weights and machines, until you reached a quiet corner with a heavy punching bag suspended from the ceiling. The room smelled like rubber mats and lavender. It was oddly comforting.

“Have you ever boxed before?” he asked, pulling two pairs of gloves from the shelf, you couldn't help but chuckle.

“This one time I wanted to punch this kid in my class but that's as close i have gotten to punching something or someone”

“Good,” he said as he tossed you a pair of wraps first. “These go under the gloves. Protect your hands, knuckles, and wrists”

You fumbled with them until Eric stepped in front of you.

“Here” he said before he started to wrap your hands with practiced precision. His touch was careful. Respectful. His fingers brushed your skin only when necessary.

He then helped you put the gloves on, tightening the straps for you. His hands were firm but gentle. You didn’t realize how tense you were until you felt your shoulders start to relax under his intense stare.

He then asked you whether you were right handed or left even though he already knew.

“Alright” he said, stepping back. “First things first..stance”

He guided you into a fighter’s stance, shifting your feet shoulder-width apart, dominant foot behind, knees slightly bent.

“Keep your hands up here” he said, lifting your gloved fists near your face. “Elbows tucked in. Protect your face and ribs. Always.”

You did as he said, mimicking the motion awkwardly. This was something new for you.

“Now the jab. It’s your dominant hand..quick, direct” He stood across from you, one hand raised as a target “Aim for my palm.”

“You won't get hurt?” You asked him so he shook his head, you reached for his palm but you were still conscious.

“Again” he said, calmly “Turn your hips a little. You punch from the ground up..use your whole body, not just your arm”

You tried again. This time, your glove smacked into his hand with more force and made a loud sound.

“Better.”

Over the next few minutes, he drilled you on the jab, the cross, the hook, you learned the names as he went along. You felt like you should be writing it down because you didn't think you'd remember it.. Each time you got frustrated, he corrected you gently. You were still holding back on those punches so he suddenly grabbed both of your wrists and made you look at him.

“Stop thinking about it so much,” he said, his nose flaring in anger. “Feel it. Let the force come from whatever it is that is bothering you” he said firmly so you nodded.

You thought about it. You thought about all the comments you had read yesterday's, your mother's disapproval, the way Jake was so disappointed in you.

And eventually you felt your anger rising up.. When he finally led you to the punching bag, you weren’t swinging blindly, you were hitting with intent.

“You feel that?” he asked, as the bag shuddered under your fist.

You nodded, breathless, a strange satisfaction thrumming through your arms and chest.

Eric stepped beside you, hands on his hips, watching you with something unreadable in his expression.

“Should I go harder?”

“Yeah. However hard you need to.”

You kept swinging. Your arms ached. Your breath came in short bursts. But the more you hit the bag, the lighter you felt, like the weight you’d been carrying since yesterday or maybe even before that was finally off your chest.

Eventually, you slowed down, sweat dripping down your temples, heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Eric handed you a towel, his gaze steady.

“Take an epsom salt bath when you go home today,” he said as he unwrapped your hands so you nodded. That sounded heavenly.

As you reached the front desk Chance smiled at you so you returned it.

“You had a great workout it seems” he commented as he looked at your sweaty palm so you nodded.

“He's a good trainer..”

“Couldn't ask for anyone better” you nodded as he said that. How he had handled you yesterday, you were starting to believe it too.

“Did Regina leave?” you asked as you didn't see her name in the register, entry or exit. He nodded in confirmation before he leaned back into his chair.

Later that night after your bath as you laid down in bed and opened Instagram. Regina never followed you back even though she posted that picture and tagged you. You couldn't help but open Eric's instagram profile. It was very professional, all he posted was about the gym and his services. He had a few pictures on his grid with Regina but they were all from the gym, nothing personal.

You clicked on a picture he had updated a month ago, he had his arm around Regina as they posed for a picture, she smiled enough for both of them.

And then you opened the comment section, there were few gushing about them as a couple, some thirsting after him, but then you saw some comments that you didn't expect to see on his profile.

Mean comments.

“Regina’s literally carrying this couple. Why does he always look like he just crawled out of a coffin 😭?”

Then there was another one, right under it.

“Our queen could do so much better. He looks like he hasn’t slept in years”

And then more..

“This is what she’s dating? Yikes. He looks like a villain from a horror movie”

Your stomach twisted. You glanced back at the photo. Eric wasn’t smiling, but he never really did, not even in real life but you'd have to be feature blind to think he was ugly in any shape or form. You couldn't stop yourself from scrolling further.

“I don’t care how many abs he has or how tall he is.. that face is tragic.”

What was Reginasbeautifulangel on about? He had such a beautiful face.

“Right out of a tim burton film but not in a good way 😂”

You quickly exited the comments, suddenly feeling sick of these people. You didn’t understand how people could be so casually cruel. You wondered if he had read them. If they had ever gotten to him.

You thought about how motivating he was with you today. How he listened, how he saw you without judgment.

He carried himself with such confidence. Never showed even a flicker of insecurity. But maybe that’s what made it worse. That even someone like Eric..someone who looked like that also had to endure the kind of judgment you thought only people like you received.

You were about to close the app and go to sleep but then a notification popped up

EricDraven92 requested to follow you.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted

#eric draven x female reader #eric draven x reader angst #eric draven x reader fluff #eric draven x reader smut #bill skarsgård eric draven #bill skarsgard eric draven #alternate universe

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batshitferalejsimp · 6 months ago

Note

can i ask for jtk short scenario prompts or general headcanons

(OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!1!! I love requests! \o/)

Jeff the Killer General Headcanons!!

(Well well well, it's time to talk about everyone's favorite crashout)

Minors DNI !!

Now to start I 100% subscribe to angry problematic emo boy Jeff the killer. he's tall, hes thin and he's a little bit of a bitch

Honestly I think he'd be around 6ft1 and rail thin while somehow eating way more than he should, like ribs still showing after eating 15 cheeseburgers a day for a month(with sides).

He's surprisingly strong for his size, not like impossibly so, but enough to take someone off guard, which adds to how hard it is to predict what the fuck he will do in any given fight

His voice isn't especially deep and it's VERY raspy hoarse, like he just spent an hour screaming before he talked to you, it's just like that all the time.

Jeff is the number 1 asshole in any situation, like going out of his way to make sure everyone is having a worse time than him, He'll go easy on you if he likes you(romantically or not), but your not escaping his pranks, he just won't try to hurt you.

He is always fighting someone, or recovering from getting his ass beat. Honestly though, he doesn't hold grudges from fights unless he already hates you, its like fighting people is the only thing that keeps this skeletal asshat alive alive. He's the kind of guy to go to a bar just to get into a bar fight. He is gonna be laughing even if he's got broken bones and he lost.

He somehow has short man syndrome even though he's tall??? blame EJ or something

He gets a sick satisfaction whenever someone is shorter than him, makes him less likely to pick a fight with you though, unless your beefier than him, then it doesn't matter

He gets all his pocket money by stealing from the houses of his victims, going as far as to break open piggy banks. He knows this one pawn shop owner that won't ask questions or narc on him

Jeff like's to gift people the stuff he stole, especially if he REALLY likes you ;)

He uses Reddit and 4chan.

On Reddit he's your garden variety troll, saying whatever will piss people off (he doesn't believe half the bullshit he spews, but it's VILE)

on 4chan, he BRAGS and shows pictures of him with dead bodies, animals. He also posts to a board about Knives, and there he's creepy, but no one connects the dots and just thinks he's a poser

He listens to almost exclusively problematic/fucked up artists (luckily he's emo so he don't gotta look too hard)

being called "Jeff the Killer" makes him geniunely giddy, and if you wanna be friends(or more) the fastest way to do that is to use the title every time you talk to him

he knows how to pickpocket, lockpick and hotwire and will use that information for evil(stealing and crashing cars)(also like... the murder)

He believes he can't get addicted to anything so he's done most of the well known drugs and gone into withdrawal several times(it pisses EJ off)

He likes to game, but has horrible gamer rage

He believes in equal rights equal fights(and no you can't convince him how it's wrong)

He is surprisingly thoughtful when he likes you(except for when he isnt), like he will not go too far(atleast for you), and if he does he almost always apologizes. And as for gifts, he does what he can and ALWAYS remembers birthdays(A reason to go have fun)

As he's grown, he's somehow become less of a loner and more social(not to say he has any social grace, but he has fun around people)

He will kill for the people he likes, and it would be flattering, if he didn't get off on it

EXTRA!!!

It was a foggy night as Jeff dragged you through the streets, laughing his ass off you stumbled trying to keep up with him. He seemed especially excited tonight, having climbed through your window to wake you up, barely letting you get dressed before shoving you out the door and dragging you out onto the streets. "Come ooooOOOOoon, hurry up." Jeff whined as if he was trying to be annoying, which he probably was knowing him.

"where the hell are we even going?" You asked for the umpteenth time, not expecting an answer. "Not telling, but trust me, you'll love it." Jeff replied excitedly. "This is the last turn anyway" It was only a few minutes of that same song and dance before you found yourself in front of a VERY big house, in a VERY affluent neighborhood. It was a comically expensive home, which made you nervous to see the opened door and cameras as he shoved you through the door. "Jeff! What the hell!? You're gonna get me arrested!" You protested, trying to fight against him as he covered your mouth.

"RelaaAAAaax, I cut the cords to the cameras days ago." Jeff teased, shoving you into the house before shutting the door behind him. "Now come on! This place is fucking awesome, there's a pool and you can steal whatever you want."

As you stared up at him from the floor, mouth agape, he grinned.

"Aren't I the greatest?" Jeff paused for a moment, "Avoid the 2nd floor bathrooms though, I forgot which one I put the bodies in."

#creepypasta #my stuff #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta jtk #jeff the killer creepypasta

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dtupdating · 6 months ago

Text

DREAM replied to another Reddit post!

Transcript under the cut!

Ludwig slightly misremembered, and didn't explain in a super fair way imo it makes me sound way worse than what actually happened

tldr;

I dmd ludwig suggesting he make a video, and offering myself for questions

ludwig replied and eventually said that I jokingly called one of his friends a whore

Due to the fact that a friend of Nicolas Cantu's had recently falsely said that "I got slapped at a party for calling a girl a whore", I asked him if that's what it was about.

He said no, and that he can't tell me more information because he doesn't think it's worth resurfacing it for her sake

I replied with a message about that, and then said I'd also provide context to the other situation just in case he was just telling me it's not about that situation (to "protect" the person's identity) even though it was, because I had no idea about any other situation.

Here's the important parts of that message that I sent him:

oh well unfortunately I guess I can't talk about this because I don't know what you're talking about at all, but I will say this as a general statement; A lot of people spread false stuff about me, or exaggerate, and have done it a lot ESPECIALLY during all of this stuff going on, as it's easy to sensationalize things because of how "hated" I seem. Intentionally, OR unintentionally. I have had to clear up so many different false stories of me being weird, or just a total shit bag, because the rumor mill runs super fucking strong when you're getting shit on 24/7. And every time it's just "oh okay that makes sense". It's not always someone lying, but it's almost always someone not realizing that exaggerating and mischaracterizing what they're saying can be a big deal, and isn't something they should do. I have never randomly called someone a whore, I have never called someone a whore derogatorily, and I would never do that.

I will completely and fully say that I have called friends of mine jokingly whore's / sluts / whatever, GUYS ANDS GIRLS, but only with people that joke along with it, or have expressly said they don't care, and again, only with friends of mine. This situation has been a lesson to just never say it at all though, because it's being used to make me out as a bad person. I would never use it that way, never ever meant anything negative when I've ever said it, and never have used it to insult or demean anyone, in any way.

I don't know the situation you're talking about, and obviously it's seemingly a bad look to have "multiple instances" where I called a girl a whore lmao, but I just cannot fathom that I called a stranger a whore, even jokingly, regardless of whether I was drunk or not. If I actually did, I would absolutely want to apologize and clear up anything that I possibly can with them, because it's upsetting to know that I made anyone upset or made them feel badly. I would like to say though, that it's not unreasonable to think that it is a misrepresentation of what actually happened, or is being looked at through a negative tint given recent events, when if this wasn't all going on, it would've been viewed as "oh that's obviously a joke". Given the fact that I have been a bit of a punching bag for a bit online, and you never know what motivations people have to spread things. Idk when this would've been as well, because like I said, the Nicolas stuff was pretty eye opening in a lot of ways, including specifically how people feel about those words in general. Which I never really thought about, and again, I've always been extremely careful and delicate with how I interact with anyone I've just met.

I NEVER would demean or speak down on someone like that. If that did actually happen, it was naivety on my part and not malice, and it's a word I'm removing from my vocabulary, and I hope I get a chance to apologize to them. But again, I have no idea what you're specifically talking about, so I probably won't get a chance, or even confirmation that it happened.

Either way, I understand why he didn't reply (I sent walls of text) and don't fault him for it. Although, the way this was said is annoying!

#dream.update #dream.reddit

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hkthatgffan · 21 days ago

Note

Is there anything particular/specific from extra-canonical Gravity Falls tie-in media (Journal 3, Lost Legends, Book of Bill, Legend of the Gnome Gemulets, etc.) that you personally don't regard as canon yourself, or at the very least, wouldn't really mind seeing retconned by future tie-ins/follow-ups? Granted, even though the canon status of many of these tie-ins stands on shaky "take-it-or-leave-it" ground, I do wonder how much of their content would be either adopted, adapted, or straight-up retconned by a hypothetical sequel series if that were to ever someday be, and just how much fans would care/react to the adoption/rejection of such.

Really only one tbh...sorta; Don't Dimension It.

Should stress, I don't hate the concept of a Mabel dimension and all the Mabels we see in it. Heck, I just organized the Month of May-bel and many of the artists in it drew art from DDI specifically, as it was one of the week's themes! I love the story with all my heart. My problem lies with what the overall point of the story ended up being...

MABEL REDEMPTION!

It's a bit of an open secret that I despise how this was handled. This was back in 2018 when Mabel hate was really at its worst thanks to that one now deleted video and other crap like Jello's So this is GF video. Lost Legends was a chance to fix that and shut the Mabel haters up and give us a story that showed she is a good character and while flawed, not a horrible person. But I feel like instead of having that well written and planned resolution to this issue, Mabel just got thrown into a messy redemption tale that doesn't even make sense and just adds fuel to certain Mabel hater arguments.

This part especially angers me to this day...

I spent ages defending Mabel and trying to make it clear she was not the cause of Weirdmageddon and just a pawn in Bill's game and an unsuspecting one too, as she was the only Pines family member who did not willingly make a deal with Bill, knowing it was him. And yet here she is being made to take the blame and the one that gets all the hate. It bugged me then and still in a lot of ways does. I literally called Alex Hirsch out on it in the interview given I had always said I would if I ever had the chance to talk to him about it.

To Alex's credit, his answer was pretty good and from what I heard from Kiki-Kit too (back when I knew her for this and not for defaulting on commissions), this story was being worked on in the Summer of 2017, so back before even the viral hate video on Mabel was released. So, this was always more something Alex himself planned on making, rather than addressing a fan complaint. He doesn't even look at them which TBH, probably is a good idea for not just Mabel, lmao ;)

I mean, I cared more about this stuff when I was younger and more committed to the Mabel defense stuff. And while I still am now, I also nowadays don't really care too much about it like I used to then. Back then I'd be ready to throw hands with anyone hating on Mabel in the comments section and argue with them till they hit block. But these days I sorta just ignore posts about Mabel debating given it's not worth it. It's 2025, if fans still hate her, they're not being changed by me saying anything. I just make my views on it clear when I can and defend them as such. I'm not in the mood anymore to fight a war of words in a Reddit comments section IG reel...and not just cause I nowadays despise using Reddit and only just tolerate Instagram.

Thankfully most fans nowadays love Mabel again and many of those haters who made the problem worse have moved on. The popularity spike GF had brought in many new fans who understand Mabel better and are more committed to the battle. So, I sorta feel like a retired war vet when it comes to the Mabel debate, watching a new generation fighting to defend her. Maybe a stretch of an analogy there, but I'm glad about it honestly, as we sorta won in the end, but it still sucks all this happened and the way it was handled in Lost Legends.

If I was Alex, I would rewrite the story to have Mabel learn this a different way. Maybe through a Ford adventure and in turn, have Ford have a sort of redemption arc too and him and Mabel in a way make amends after the events of Weirdmageddon. I see a lot of fans debate that and I would've loved to see the two of them bond and work it out. I mean, many fans even at the time thought DDI would be a Ford and Mabel bonding story from a tweet Alex made in 2018 that seemed to hint that, myself included.

Vailskibum even made a video about it. Our hopes were high and in the end, that wasn't the case. Again, like I said, I love Don't Dimension It's concept with the Mabel dimension. I just dislike how Alex addressed Mabel's overall character flaw and how he went about fixing it.

It was too harsh and too much. And especially making her take the blame for Weirdmageddon was wrong IMO.

I've debated a lot about if I regard DDI as canon. I mean, it all but is, given Dipper gets his journal in it that he references in Journal 3, which is canon. So, IMO, the story more or less is canon. But as for the handling over her redemption arc, I don't as much see that as canon. Plus, as one code in the book says, LL is canonish, so it's not officially canon but also isn't either.

It's funny. I like Roadside Attraction, the most hated Gravity Falls episode, but I don't as much like Don't Dimension It, one of the most beloved Lost Legends stories. Weird how that that is, huh?

But I can also dislike it while still enjoying the good in it. And DDI, minus the Mabel redemption crap, is a solid story and a lovely technically final adventure that Mabel had that Summer.

#AMA #Ask #Ask That GF FAN #gravity falls #mabel pines #alex hirsch #gravity falls fandom #that gf fan #ThatGFFAN #Lost Legends #It's 2025 if you're still hating on Mabel Pines then why are you even in this fandom #Forever a Mabel defender!

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cressidagrey · 3 months ago

Text

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Epilogue (The End)

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Warnings and Notes:

And with that, we have reached the end. I could, as always, write a lot more, (And maybe eventually I will, but for right now, that's where we will leave Lando and Lizzie.)

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Twitch Stream Transcript – Max Fewtrell & Lando Norris

[Stream starts]

Max: Right, chat. I know we’ve been through a lot together. We’ve seen things. We’ve survived things. But I don’t think any of you are ready for what’s about to happen.

Max: Because, somehow, defying all expectations, defying all logic—Lando Norris is actually here.

Chat:

LIAR.

NO WAY.

PROVE IT.

MAX THIS BETTER NOT BE A PRERECORDED AI CLIP.

OH SO HE DOES EXIST.

IT’S BEEN 84 YEARS.

Lando: [over voice chat, deadpan] I hate you.

Max: Gasp. He speaks. It’s real. It’s happening.

Lando: You’re so dramatic.

Max: No, mate, I’m just telling it like it is. The last time we saw you, you were escaping the internet at full speed. Thought you retired. Went off the grid. Became a monk.

Lando: Yeah, well. Things got messy.

Max: Understatement of the year.

Chat:

YEAH NO KIDDING.

THE INTERNET WAS A NIGHTMARE.

LIZZIE DESERVED BETTER.

MARAAA OUR QUEEN.

THE ABLEISM WAS SO BAD.

LANDO DEFENDING HER >>>

Max: So, how’s Lizzie?

Lando: She’s good. Writing, mostly. And making sure I actually sleep.

Max: A saint.

Lando: Obviously.

Chat:

PROTECT HER AT ALL COSTS.

SHE NEEDS TO KNOW WE LOVE HER.

I WANT TO SEND HER FANMAIL BUT I’M SCARED.

MARA POST WHEN??

TELL LIZZIE SHE’S A QUEEN.

Max: But mate, you really should’ve warned me before hopping on. Nearly had a heart attack.

Lando: Didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

Max: Didn’t think it was—oh my god. Chat, back me up.

Chat:

IT IS A BIG DEAL.

HISTORIC MOMENT.

LORE DROP.

WE THOUGHT LIZZIE LOGGED YOU OUT FOREVER.

DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER YOUR TWITCH PASSWORD??

SHE PROBABLY DRAGGED HIM BACK HERE.

Lando: Actually, she’s in the kitchen right now.

Max: Oh, is she? What’s she doing?

Lando: Giving Mara peanut butter.

Max: …Oh no.

Lando: Yeah.

(And then, as if on cue, absolute chaos erupts in Lando’s mic—loud licking, snuffling, something knocking against furniture. A thump. A very happy dog making a complete racket.)

Max: WHAT IS HAPPENING.

Lando: [muffled laughter] She’s going feral.

Max: CHAT, DO YOU HEAR THIS?

Chat:

MARAAA.

SHE’S EATING LIKE SHE HASN’T BEEN FED IN YEARS.

DOG ASMR STREAM WHEN.

THAT’S THE SOUND OF A QUEEN ENJOYING LIFE.

SHE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF THAT PEANUT BUTTER.

Max: Mate. Your dog is losing it.

Lando: She loves peanut butter.

Max: Yeah, no kidding. It sounds like she’s wrestling it.

Lando: Wouldn’t surprise me.

Max: I swear, chat’s gonna riot if you don’t post a Mara video soon.

Lando: I’ll think about it.

Max: Think about it? No, mate, you don’t understand. Mara is the people’s princess.

Chat:

MARA FOR PRESIDENT.

SHE DESERVES THE WORLD.

THE WAY SHE’S JUST EXISTING AND WE’RE ALL LOSING IT.

THIS IS NOW A MARA FAN STREAM.

GIRLBOSS.

Max: You could literally disappear again for months, but if you drop one single Mara clip, all will be forgiven.

Lando: Huh. Good to know.

Max: Don’t even pretend like you won’t exploit that.

Lando: [grinning] Wouldn’t dream of it.

(Mara, still licking peanut butter, lets out an extremely content sigh.)

Max: Oh, that was adorable.

Lando: Yeah, she’s great.

Max: I can feel chat melting over this.

Chat:

SHE’S SO PRECIOUS.

LIZZIE AND MARA HARD CARRYING THE CONTENT RIGHT NOW.

MARA POST WHEN.

WE DON’T DESERVE HER.

SHE’S SO REAL FOR THIS.

Max: Right. Now that we’ve all had our emotional moment over Mara’s peanut butter obsession, shall we actually play the game?

Lando: Probably.

Max: But just so we’re clear—this stream peaked the moment Mara showed up.

Lando: Yeah, I figured.

(Chat spams heart emojis as the game finally begins.)

***

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car PrinceBy June Shepard

Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton has built an empire on love stories—intoxicating, sweeping, heart-stopping love stories that have made her one of the most successful romantasy authors of the decade. Her Seasons of Fate series, a four-book saga filled with magic, intrigue, and forbidden romance, has captivated millions worldwide, cementing her place as the reigning queen of the genre.

But even her most devoted readers could never have predicted that she was living out a love story of her own. And certainly not with one of the biggest stars in motorsport.

When Lizzie Treshton walked into the Silverstone paddock in July 2025, hand-in-hand with McLaren’s Lando Norris, social media imploded.

No one had any idea they were together. No rumors, no leaks—just an earth-shattering confirmation that sent both F1 and romantasy Twitter into collective cardiac arrest.

"It wasn’t supposed to be a big thing," Treshton says now, curled up on a sofa in her Surrey flat, a steaming mug of tea in hand. "Lando was racing at Silverstone. I wanted to be there to support him. I didn’t think the world would explode."

Perhaps that was naive. Because if there’s one thing the world loves, it’s an unexpected crossover. And this? This was the ultimate crossover event.

Lando Norris has spent the last six years in the high-pressure world of Formula 1, balancing blistering lap times with an ever-growing fanbase that adores his mix of raw talent, easy charm, and chaotic humor. He’s no stranger to public scrutiny. But even he was caught off guard by the sheer scale of the reaction.

"I knew Lizzie was a big deal," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "But I didn’t fully grasp it until people started calling me ‘the romantasy book boyfriend of the year.’"

He grins. "I think my sisters are still mad I didn’t tell them who I was dating."

That particular detail has only added to the legend of "Lizzie & Lando." While Norris’s family knew he had a girlfriend, they had no idea it was that Lizzie Treshton—the very same author whose books they had lined up at midnight to buy. His sisters, self-proclaimed romantasy fanatics, took approximately thirty seconds to forgive him before launching into full-scale fangirl mode.

But not everyone has been as welcoming.

Almost immediately after Silverstone, the backlash began. While plenty of fans celebrated the unexpected pairing, others turned vicious. Some called Treshton “undeserving.” Others dismissed the relationship entirely, claiming Norris would eventually move on.

And then there were the ones who went after her health.

Treshton has always been open about living with epilepsy, discussing it occasionally in interviews and social media posts. But being open about something and having it dissected by millions of strangers are two very different things.

Some reactions were cruel—questioning Norris’s commitment, making sweeping judgments about Treshton’s ability to “keep up” with the fast-paced, jet-setting lifestyle of an F1 driver. Others were outright ableist, using her condition as a reason to doubt her place at his side.

Norris, uncharacteristically sharp in his response, took to Instagram. “The way some of you have spoken about Liz—the woman I love—is disgusting. There’s no other way to put it. You’ve taken something she has no control over and used it as an excuse to dehumanize her, to insult her, to act like she isn’t worthy of me.”

McLaren issued a formal statement condemning the backlash, while much of the grid rallied behind Treshton, with drivers like Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc publicly voicing their support.

“It was disgusting,” Treshton says bluntly. “But not surprising.”

"I’ve lost people because of my epilepsy," Treshton says quietly, her fingers tightening around her mug. "People who couldn’t handle it. People who didn’t want to try."

Her mother was one of them.

Treshton doesn’t often talk about her mother, but when she does, it’s with a detachment that speaks of wounds long since buried. "She left when I was young," she says. "Said she couldn’t deal with it. So she didn’t."

She exhales slowly. "I learned early on that some people see epilepsy as an inconvenience. Like it makes you fragile. But it doesn’t make me less. And it sure as hell doesn’t make me unlovable."

Despite the backlash, Treshton and Norris remain unfazed. Their relationship, built away from the public eye, is stronger than the noise that surrounds it.

"Lando makes me feel safe," she admits. "Not in a way that makes me feel like I need protecting, but in a way that reminds me I don’t have to do everything alone."

For Norris, it’s simple. "She’s incredible," he says. "And I’m lucky to have her. End of story."

There’s something almost cinematic about the two of them. The bestselling author who spins love stories for a living. The racing driver who defies speed and gravity every weekend. It’s the kind of pairing that shouldn’t make sense. And yet, it does.

At the end of the day, theirs isn’t just a love story. It’s a story about resilience. About belonging. About choosing each other in a world that constantly tries to tear people down.

When asked what’s next, Treshton shrugs. “I have a book to finish. He has races to win. And beyond that?” She tilts her head, thoughtful. “I think we’ll just keep surprising people.”

One thing is clear: the queen of romantasy and her race car prince are far from a fleeting fairytale.

They’re just getting started.

****

8 December 2024, Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

The moment Lando stepped out of the car, the world blurred around him. The cheers, the McLaren team swarming in orange, the fireworks—none of it felt real. He had won Abu Dhabi. He had won the Constructors’ Championship for McLaren. After years of dreaming, of heartbreak, of being so close yet so far—he had done it.

His mother reached him first, arms tight around his shoulders, holding him like she never wanted to let go. “Lando,” she breathed, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You’ve made so many people happy today.”

His father clapped a firm hand on his back, pride evident in his expression. His team, his engineers, Zak Brown—everyone was celebrating around him. But Lando was already searching for someone else.

And then he saw her.

Lizzie stood off to the side, wrapped in one of his McLaren jackets, Mara sitting dutifully at her feet. She looked exhausted, and he knew why. Just last night, she had suffered a seizure. He had been with her through it, waiting for the worst to pass. He had told her she didn’t have to come today, that she should stay at the hotel and rest.

But Lizzie was nothing if not stubborn.

Her gaze found his, and her face lit up like the fireworks lighting the sky outside.

He could see how tired she was, though, in the tightness around her eyes, the way her body was still a little stiff.

But she was here.

His feet moved before his brain caught up, and suddenly, she was in front of him, her hands reaching up to his face before he could say a word.

Her fingers traced over his skin, her tired eyes taking him in with a familiar, almost reverent look. It was as if she couldn’t believe he was real. Lando knew the feeling.

“Like I ever would have missed this,” she murmured before he could scold her for being out in the chaos of the paddock. Her thumbs brushed his cheekbones, her voice thick with emotion. “Lando, you did it. You actually did it.”

"You didn't need to come," he whispered. His hands came to rest on her waist, grounding himself. “I was worried about you.”

“And I was never going to miss watching you win,” she said simply, smiling up at him. “I am so proud of you.”

Lando let out a shaky breath.

Then, with the whole world watching, he kissed her.

It was soft, careful—his hands tightening on her waist like he was terrified she might disappear, like he still wasn’t sure if any of this was real. When he pulled back, her eyes were shining, and for the first time since he crossed the finish line, it hit him.

He had everything he had ever wanted.

****

Dedications of The Seasons of Fate:

A Spring of Secrets and Thorns

For Mara—

My steady ground, my quiet guardian, my fiercest protector.

For every unseen battle you’ve helped me fight, for every moment you’ve kept me safe, and for always being by my side—this book, like so much of my life, is possible because of you.

A Summer of Blood and Bloom

For Dad—

For every doctor’s appointment, every sleepless night, and every time you carried the weight of the world so I wouldn’t have to.

You taught me that love doesn’t walk away—it stays, it fights, and it endures. This book is a testament to that, and to you.

An Autumn of Fire and Stone

For Tasha and Aunt Lou—

For the sister I chose and the woman who made us family.

For every page read, every dream encouraged, and every time you reminded me that I was more than my worst days. I am who I am because I had you both beside me. I couldn’t have done this without you.

A Winter of Ash and Starlight

For Lando -

Who taught me that love, like speed, can take your breath away in an instant. You’ve turned the pages of my life in the most unexpected, beautiful way.

Thank you for showing me that sometimes the best stories are the ones you never saw coming.

Ours is my favourite one.

Acknowledgments – A Winter of Ash and Starlight

Writing this book, and really this entire series, has been one of the greatest joys of my life. I never imagined that a story I started one summer in my dad’s garden would turn into this, but here we are. I couldn’t have done it alone, and I wouldn’t have wanted to.

To my dad—thank you for everything. For the late-night talks, the endless encouragement, and the way you always made sure I knew I was enough, just as I am. You’ve been my rock, my biggest supporter, and the reason I never stopped believing I could do this.

To Aunt Lou—you are proof that family is about love, not blood. You didn’t have to be a mother to me, but chose to be anyway. I don’t have the words to properly thank you for that, but I hope you know how much I love you.

To Tasha—my sister in every way that matters. For always having my back, for every chaotic adventure, and for making sure I never forget who I am. You are my favorite person to cause trouble with.

To Mara—my best girl, my constant companion, my real-life guardian angel. You have been curled up beside me through every late-night writing session, every deadline panic, every high and low. There is no version of my life, or this book, without you in it.

This book marks the end of Astrid and Ciaran’s journey—the last chapter of their love story. And in a way, it closes a chapter of my own life, too. Love has a funny way of finding you when you least expect it, and just as I was bringing Astrid and Ciaran home, someone walked into my life and changed everything.

To Lando—who came into my life just as I was closing this chapter and somehow became the best story of all. I don’t know if fate is real, but if it is, I think it was always meant to bring me to you. You walked into my world when I wasn’t sure I deserved something good, and you have never let me forget that I do.

Thank you for every quiet moment and every inside joke. Thank you for the dino nuggets, the peanut butter and the Ferrari Dog Bandanas. Thank you for making me laugh, for making me feel safe, and for proving, every single day, that love isn’t about grand gestures, but about showing up, time and time again.

You have been the greatest plot twist of my life. I love you.

And finally, to the readers—thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you for believing in Astrid and Ciaran, in fate and magic, in love that defies the odds. This world, this story, exists because of you.

Here’s to new stories, new adventures, and finding our own kind of magic. Always.

With love and endless gratitude, Elizabeth Louise Treshton

The End

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