#this is a word. that i have made up just now. if the English dictionary doesn't have it then it's wrong and we should kill it immediately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writetheidea · 1 month ago

Text

Shadows of the past

Hello, I made this blog solely to publish this fan fiction I wrote because the idea for the plot has been tugging at the back of my mind for months. I tried requesting it from a few writers but since they didn’t write it I remained unsatisfied. Then I remembered I also do have the ability to write.

This was thought of as a one shot. Upon receiving positive feedback and requests, a second part has been written.

Part 2

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x named!female character

Plot: Oscar's new relationship is strained by his family's constant reminders of his ex, Lily, and he fails to notice how this is affecting his girlfriend.

Tag: angst, hurt/no comfort, sad ending.

Word count: 2989

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though. I also haven’t written any work of fiction since I was a teenager, so this could be bad, I just had a need to get this fan fiction out of my brain. And once I wrote it, it felt like a waste to keep it on my laptop.

The new girlfriend has a name as I wasn’t able to write this without a name, I apologize, I made it a shorter name so it can be skimmed over. There is no physical description of them.

I would like to explain that I do not think that Oscar's family would behave this way. This idea came from watching Nicole's interview in which she spoke highly about Lily and an unrelated conversation that day about families still speaking about and with ex-girlfriends.

Oscar sat in his motorhome, absentmindedly scrolling through social media notifications and posts. He wasn’t really paying attention to them. His mind was already on the track, anticipating the feel of the car and revising the strategies for the weekend. But, even as he tried to focus on the race ahead, something distracted him at the back of his mind. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet, something that had been running in his head for weeks.

Across from him, Mia sat quietly, going through her phone, though he knew it wasn’t holding her attention either. She hadn’t said much all day, her silence stretching thin between them like a thread on the verge of snapping. It wasn’t like her. At least, it wasn’t like how she used to be. When they first met, Mia had been a burst of energy, her laughter infectious, her smile like a safe heaven that had pulled him out of the chaos of being a public figure. But now… something had changed.

"Oscar, did you hear what I said?" Mia’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, her eyes searching his face for any sign that he had been paying attention to what she had been saying. But he hadn't.

Oscar blinked, eyes tearing away from his phone. "Sorry, darling. What did you say?"

Mia smiled, a small, strained smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "I was asking if you wanted to go out for dinner later. You know, somewhere quiet, just the two of us. I found this place…"

Oscar nodded absentmindedly, his attention already drifting away. "Yeah, sure. Sounds good."

Mia noticed his lack of attention, but she didn’t press the issue. She had grown used to his distracted responses over the past few months, so she just sat there, her fingers gripping her phone a little too tightly, and the silence between them growing heavier. It had been like this for a while now—Oscar lost in his racing, and Mia fading quietly into the background, unnoticed.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when his attention had been solely hers, when Oscar had looked at her with the kind of focus he reserved for the track. Lately, though, she had started to feel like she was slipping out of view, like she was losing her place in his world. And Oscar, so wrapped up in his career, didn’t see it. Not yet.

-----

It had started subtly, in ways Mia hadn’t been able to notice at first. When she had met Oscar, she knew this relationship wouldn’t have resembled her previous ones; she was stepping into a world of fame, pressure, and expectations. But she had been prepared for that—at least, she thought she had been.

The first time she had met Oscar’s family had been over a casual dinner. Nicole had been polite, her eyes studying Mia a little closely but never purely cold. And then there were his sisters, who seemed stuck between curiosity and indifference, their questions friendly but calculated.

It wasn’t until halfway through the meal that Mia first heard the name.

“Do you remember when Lily got us pizza in Monza?” Hattie had asked with a deliberate tone, her gaze flickering toward Oscar.

Mia had frozen for a second, her fork suspended midair. Lily. She had heard the name before, of course, Oscar had talked about her, the ex-girlfriend who had been with him through his early career. Mia hadn’t worried about her, assuming she was just part of his past.

“Oh, yeah,” Mae chimed in, laughing. “From that little family-run restaurant, right? God, I miss that place.”

Nicole smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Lily was always so thoughtful. She always knew how to make us feel at home, no matter where we were.”

Mia’s chest tightened, the casual and affectionate mention of Lily, compared to how she had been addressed throughout the evening, slicing through the conversation like a shard of ice. She forced herself to smile, to nod along, pretending it didn’t bother her. But it did more than she wanted to admit.

Oscar had shifted uncomfortably beside her, clearing his throat. “Yeah, Lily was great” he had said quickly, then tried to change the subject. But the damage was done. The ghost of Lily hung over the rest of the evening like a shadow, lingering at the edges of every conversation and Mia’s mind.

-----

As the months passed, Mia couldn’t shake the feeling that she was living in someone else’s place, that no matter how much Oscar claimed to love her, no matter how much she tried to integrate herself into his life, she was no comparison to Lily. It wasn’t that his family was blatantly rude towards her, they were kind, but there was a warmth in their voices when they spoke about Lily that they didn’t extend to Mia.

Every race weekend, every family gathering, even every private moment with Oscar was tainted in her mind by the weight of someone else’s ghost.

It wasn’t until one afternoon in Monaco, when Mia stumbled across the ring, that the full weight of it hit her.

She had been tidying the bedroom while Oscar was out, taking advantage of the free time to clean the apartment, cleaning up a drawer of old clothes when she found it—a small, velvet box. Her heart had skipped a beat as she opened it, revealing a stunning diamond ring.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She wasn’t unrealistic, Mia knew this wasn’t meant for her, her relationship with Oscar still too young to warrant a proposal. No. This ring wasn’t for her. It had been bought for someone else. For Lily.

Mia closed the box with trembling hands, her chest tightening as the realization washed over her. Oscar had been planning to marry Lily. He had been ready to propose, to make her his wife, to share his life with her in a way that as of lately Mia wasn’t sure he would ever want to with her.

She had never brought it up to Oscar. She couldn’t. How could she confront him about something like this? How could she admit that she had found evidence of a future he had once planned with someone else, a future that might have happened if things hadn’t fallen apart between them?

From that day on, the weight of it pressed down on her like a constant reminder. She tried to ignore it, to push the self doubt away, to remind herself it was all part of the past. But every time Oscar’s family mentioned Lily, every time they talked about her like she was still part of their world, Mia felt herself slipping further away from the confident, energetic woman she had once been.

-----

The Monaco GP was supposed to be a new start. Mia had somewhat convinced herself that her doubts were unreasonable, that her presence in Oscar’s life was concrete. She had been trying so hard to convince her mind, to smile through the subtle slights, to act as if Lily’s constant presence in conversations didn’t bother her. But Monaco was different. Monaco was where everything changed.

The paddock was buzzing with energy as usual, the yachts in the harbor reflecting the morning sun. Mia stood beside Oscar, her hand in his as they made their way through the crowd. Fans called out to him, snapping photos, but Mia barely noticed. Her attention was elsewhere—on the small group standing near the McLaren garage.

There stood Oscar’s family. And Lily.

Mia felt her heart skip at the sight. Lily was just standing there, laughing with Nicole, looking as comfortable and at ease as she had in all the stories Mia had had to listen to in the past months. She was so effortlessly beautiful, with an air of confidence that Mia had always admired but now found unbearable.

Nicole’s eyes found Oscar, lighting up as she waved him over. “Oscar, darling! Come say hello.”

Mia felt herself stiffen, her stomach twisting into knots. Oscar hesitated for a moment, glancing at Mia before offering her a quick, apologetic smile. “I’ll just be a minute,” he murmured, squeezing her hand before walking over to his family. To her.

Mia couldn’t bring herself to do anything but watch as he greeted them, his interactions with Lily casual but friendly, too friendly in her doubt filled mind. It was like watching him slip into an old role, a role he played with ease, with a counterpart Mia couldn’t quite replace.

They talked for what felt like hours, though it had only been minutes. Mia stood there, frozen as her heart pounded in her chest as she watched Oscar laugh at something Lily said, as his mother beamed at them, as if this was how things were supposed to be. As if Mia was the outsider, the intruder in a story that had never been hers to begin with.

-----

That night, the silence in their room was deafening.

Oscar had been talking about the race, but Mia hadn’t been able to focus. She hadn’t really said much all weekend, her responses short and her mind elsewhere.

“Mia?” Oscar called, his brows furrowed as he looked at her. “Is everything okay?”

She just stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to put her thoughts into words, unsure of how to explain the feelings that had made a home in her mind. “Oscar… Do you ever think about her?”

He frowned, confused. “Who?”

“Lily,” Mia whispered, voice barely audible. “Do you still think about her? About… what could have been?”

Oscar blinked, startled by the question. “Mia, no. Of course not. I’m with you now.”

She shook her head, as she fought her anxiety and tried to gather the courage to say what had been haunting her mind for months. "You say that, Oscar, but… it feels like I’m always competing with her, against her presence in your life. And I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m constantly fighting against someone who’s not even here anymore."

Oscar’s expression softened as he stepped toward her, one of his hands reaching out to gently cup her face. "Mia, you are not. I don't think about Lily like that anymore. That part of my life is over."

"Is it?" Mia’s voice cracked, her eyes searching his for the reassurance she so desperately needed. "Because I’m not sure your family feels the same way. They still talk about her, still invite her to races. Nicole talks about her like she could still be a part of your life, like she is supposed to be a part of your life. And Oscar… I found the ring."

Oscar’s hand dropped from her face, his eyes widening in shock. "What ring?"

"The one in your drawer," Mia said, her voice trembling. "The engagement ring. The one you bought for her."

Oscar froze, his breath catching in his throat. "Mia… I didn’t mean for you to find that. I—I should have gotten rid of it a long time ago."

"Why didn’t you?" she asked. "Why didn’t you get rid of it if you had moved on? You kept it, Oscar, that has to mean something. And every time she is brought up, every time I notice her presence still somewhat in your life, I feel like I’ll never be good enough. Like I’m standing in her shadow, no matter what I do."

Oscar sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Mia, I didn’t keep the ring because I still have feelings for her. I kept it because… I never knew what to do with it. You are right, I did want to propose to Lily at some point, I couldn’t see that our relationship was dying, I was trying to deny it. But I didn’t propose in the end. I realized it wasn’t right. I never told you because I didn’t want to hurt you."

Mia hugged herself, staring at the floor. "But it does hurt now, Oscar. And it hurts every time they bring her up, every time they talk about how perfect she was, how much they loved her. It feels like I’m just… filling a spot that’s still meant for her."

Oscar stood up and reached for her again, his voice carrying an underlying urgency. "Mia, you’re not filling a space. I love you. I want to be with you. I thought you knew that."

"I thought I did too," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "But… I don’t know anymore. And I feel like I’m losing myself trying to live up to the memory of someone I’m not while you didn’t even notice how much it’s been affecting me."

Oscar’s heart sank as he took in her words, the weight of his and his family’s actions finally settling on his shoulders. He had known that they still cared for Lily, but he hadn’t understood how much it had been hurting Mia. And he hadn’t noticed how distant she had become, how her bright light had started to dim under the constant comparisons.

He sat back down, hands resting in his lap as he stared at the floor. "Mia, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… I didn’t know it was this bad."

Mia took a deep, shaky breath, tears staining her face. "You didn’t. I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Oscar. I love you, so much so that I have been willing to hurt myself to be with you, but I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough. Like I’ll never be enough."

Oscar looked up at her, desperation in his eyes at the implications of her words. "You are enough, Mia. You’ve always been enough."

She shook her head, wiping her eyes. "If I was enough, your family wouldn’t still be holding onto Lily. They wouldn’t be talking about her like she’s still the one for you… They wouldn’t make me feel like I’m always in second place in a one person competition."

Oscar felt his throat tighten, his guilt and frustration rising to the surface. He had been so focused on his career, on the races, that he hadn’t noticed how much this had been affecting Mia. And now, standing in front of him, she looked so lost, so hurt, that he wasn’t sure how to fix it.

"I’ll talk to them," he said, his voice firm. "I’ll make sure they understand. They can’t keep doing this to you—to us. I’ll set boundaries. I don’t want to lose you, Mia."

Mia’s gaze softened for a moment, but the pain in her eyes was still there. "It’s not just about them, Oscar. It’s about how I’ve been feeling invisible, like I don’t matter as much in your life. I don’t know if talking to them will change how I feel about myself now. I don’t know if it’ll be enough to fix this."

Oscar’s heart clenched. He could see the cracks in their relationship now, the ones he had been too blind to notice before. And he realized, with a sinking feeling, that this wasn’t something he could just fix with a few words or promises. This was deeper.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked quietly, his voice almost breaking. "Tell me what I can do to make this right."

Mia stood there for a long moment, staring at him, the weight of the decision she had come to after months of suffering heavy on her shoulders. She loved him, she had given everything to this relationship, but the constant reminders of his past with Lily had killed her confidence, her sense of security.

"I think…" she began, her voice shaky, "I think I need some time. Time to figure out if I can keep doing this, if I can keep being in this relationship without losing myself further."

Oscar felt a chill run through him at her words. "Mia, please don’t say that. Don’t say you’re leaving."

"I’m not leaving," she clarified, though the look in her eyes betrayed her uncertainty of their future. "But I need space. I need time to think about what’s best for me, because right now… I don’t feel like I’m good for you. And I don’t feel like this is good for me."

Oscar’s chest tightened painfully as he stepped toward her, his hands trembling as he reached for hers. "I love you. I don’t want to lose you."

Tears spilled from Mia’s eyes again as she looked down at their hands. "I love you too, Oscar. But love isn’t enough if I don’t feel like I belong in your life. If I don’t feel like your family accepts me. Like I can accept myself."

He swallowed hard, fighting his own tears. "I’ll make them understand. I’ll fight for us."

She pulled her hands away gently, taking a step back. "I need to fight for myself first."

Oscar felt the floor drop from under him as Mia turned toward the door. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the doorknob, before looking back at him with tears in her eyes.

"Please don’t hate them," she whispered. "I know they didn’t mean to hurt me. But… they did. And I don’t know how to fix that."

And with that, she slipped out of the room, out of the apartment, leaving Oscar standing alone, silence deafening around him. The weight of his family’s actions, of his own inaction, pressed down on him.

He had always thought he could balance everything—his career, his family, his relationship—but now, as the door closed behind Mia, he realized that he had been wrong. He had been so focused on winning races, on making his family happy, that he hadn’t seen the cracks forming beneath the surface of his relationship and in the heart of the woman he loved.

And now, he wasn’t sure if he would ever get her back.

348 notes · View notes

admirxation · 16 days ago

Text

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡 - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. The reader visits her favourite professor for another late night tryst (wc: 1.9k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!reader x professor!Satoru Gojo. 18+ smut mdni, professor x student/power imbalance/the reader is consenting however lowkey dubcon due to power dynamics (don't fuck your professor, people!), dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, soft degradation, soft dom Gojo, squirting, unprotected sex, p in v, and cum -> you've been warned; continue at your own discretion.

You were the top student for your whole career in high school. That’s what everyone, fellow students and teachers, knew you for: top of the class, A-star on every exam, and many teachers expressing their praises, knowing you would be going far. So, when you heard those praises, university and a life of academia was the obvious next step, prepared to bask in praise from the professors; however, that wasn’t how it was going.

You were soon humbled when you first sat in class and sat with other students who had received similar praise you had in high school; being next to them was intimidating. All your life, you had been called smart, but now, when you were thrown into a bigger sea of fish, you were feeling like the smallest of the lot; imposter syndrome soon seeping in and digging its claws into your psyche every time you heard somebody else answers a question, look at other people’s exam results, and just talking to them about how they were finding the content. These feelings were only confirmed when your latest exam was the lowest result you had ever received.

When you first saw your percentage, the denial part of your brain felt like it should have been a mistake; you remembered, that night, how you scrolled through the portal and kept refreshing the page like somehow that was magically going to bump up the numbers, perhaps squinting and turning that D into an A through a long process of hope. Your heart further sank when you saw the feedback, constant question marks in sentences you had thought you made fantastic points in, constant ‘incorrect’, ‘what’, ‘I don’t follow’, and the dreaded ‘see me after class.’ You didn’t understand what you were doing wrong; you were listening to every word the professor was saying, asking for help from your friends and people in the group chat, and doing tons of research around the area, but applying it was something you felt like was a journey of impossibility.

Every lecture and class had become a battlefield, every student a new rival in your mind as you compare yourself to them; listening to them and how fluidly they could answer a question with sophisticated words you didn’t even know was in the English dictionary, and constantly hearing the voice in your head telling you: you’re too dumb to be here, quit while you still can. This just burnt. You had been ready for hard work, trials and tribulations, expecting burnout, but this? This felt like an endless cycle of being lost, like constantly reading a page and never being able to digest any of the words, constantly drowning in a feeling like you weren’t good enough.

However, that low mark seemed to be a blessing in disguise in the most taboo way possible. You had been taught by everyone's favourite professor—Professor Satoru Gojo—and you were aware of how the girls felt about him. He had cliche written all over him, with that voice and tall body that made you feel engulfed underneath him; he was every college girl's dream, but he wasn’t interested in them; he found interest in you, the girl who couldn’t quite get the information, but found it so endearing that you kept pushing through. He liked a hard-working girl, and an insecure girl made it easier to pick you up from the slump and make you obsessed.

It started with inviting you to his office, where he gave you honest, innocent assistance to make your essays better, and it worked; those D’s soon bumped into A’s, and you were above the moon when you finally felt like you were getting back on track to the academic validation, that had been your motivator for too long. However, you kept going to those office checkups. They soon snow-balled into affectionate meetings, starting when you were looking over an essay and his hand gripped onto your thigh, making a pooling warmth within your core develop. The rest was history, with constant weeks of meeting up with him and being his girl, and that was a new validation you sought for now.

Right now, you two were doing your favourite thing—with the door locked and the lights dimmed—with you half naked and sitting on his hard wooden desk, letting him treat you like his little toy.

“Aahh, Gojo, d-don’t stop,” you whimpered out as you felt his warm tongue lap circles around your pebbled nipple, leaving occasional sucks and nibbles that coaxed out hissing pleasure to escape your lips.

“You’re so sexy like this,” his slender and long digits remained working overtime as they plunged into your soaking and aching hole, making his cock harden against his trousers as he felt your glistening cunt convulse and suck him in further. “You like this, don’t you? Being touched by your professor, you like being my dirty girl, don’t you?”

His voice was smooth and tantalising, with effortless confidence and commanding tone that made your gummy insides clench around him, sucking him further into your cunt as your inner thighs started to shake; you were his, in every undertone of power he had accumulated, and you never wanted this to stop. Why would you? Why would you stop the constant series of ecstasy riding that made your eyes flutter, and your legs shake; he was your favourite indulgence now, and you weren’t going back when that rhythmic cadence of his voice and presence consumed you. It was electrifying to be wanted by him.

“Yes, yes, ahh, aaah fuck,” you were interrupted by the plethora of panting and orgasms that kept protruding out of your glossy lips, “All yours, I love this.” You kept praising and surrendering yourself to him at your own volition, something some people would find embarrassing, but you didn’t care; they wouldn’t be able to understand how good Gojo made you feel and how connected you felt with him every time he made you close to your high.

“That’s right, that’s my dirty girl, all mine,” he looked up at you while he was sucking on your hardened nipple with that teasing and arrogant smirk, “a naughty girl that likes to be used by her professor…. Hasn’t got a shred of respect, do you, darling?”

“N-no, I-I’m completely yours,” you whimpered out through a quivering lip as you felt Gojo’s fingertips start to curl inside your convulsing walls.

“Should I give you your favourite thing?” he hummed teasingly, “does my darling deserve that?”

There was something so hypnotic about him, something that made constant tidal waves wash over you as every sense felt pleased when you were in Gojo’s presence. His validation and his attention were a constant fuel that you required, running on it like food and water; you needed him without fail.

Gojo is too good at this, way too good at dirty talking, way too good at knowing what makes you whimper and fold or him, and way too good at fucking you stupid. You didn’t want to be with anyone else; it would feel like a constant disappointment to be with anyone else; you would just be constantly comparing them to how good Gojo made you feel, how he made you scream his name and made your clit throb with slick running down your slit, he was your dream that you were digging your heels into forever. He had you wrapped around his little finger.

“Please, I’ve been a good girl; I-I want you, please,” you blabbed out like the pathetic girl you were underneath his touch, writhing and squirming underneath him as he finger fucked you on the desk.

“You have been doing well on your tests; I’ll give you a treat.”

Your cheeks burned with a strawberry hue coming into the clarity of a blush, your heartbeat pounding against its ribbed chamber, and your dilated eyes widening as you watched the slow torture of him unzipping his pants in slow and deliberate movements, releasing a soft hum of pleasure and appreciation as your eyes cast down to his throbbing erection that had sprung out of its barrier, moaning as Gojo rubbed the reddened tip with pearled pre-cum against your wet folds, and teasing you more.

He smirks, watching you grow more pathetic for him, the way your fingers clenched onto the edge of the desk and the way your toes curled in anticipation for his hardened cock to slip inside your dripping centre.

“Aw, does my girl want it?” he asked as he pinched the folds surrounding your clit, making a puffy squish around your sensitive bundle of nerves and making you gasp and writhe underneath him.

“Y-yes, I want it so bad, please, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

In one swift motion, he slipped his large length inside you, both of you releasing guttural groans as you felt his entrance and the way your cunt surrounded him and sucked him in further into that sweet spongy spot that would make you praise his name like a prayer lingering on your tongue.

His strong hands gripped onto the fat of your hips as he bucked his hips further to get balls deep into you, filling the room with the sounds of lewd and sensual moans, alongside the sound of skin slapping against the skin as his balls smacked your ass with every rhythmic sway of his hips.

“F-fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed out a moan as he felt the hilt in your walls, “such a good little student, taking her professors cock so well,” he kissed your neck as he whispered dirty nothings into the shell of your ear, making you press your fingertips onto his shoulders the more he plunged his hard cock further inside your spasming walls.

He had such a way of making you feel adored and taken care of, even when he was dirty-talking you; you were completely mesmerised by the way he spoke and the way he sheathed his dick inside the hilt of your pussy; you never wanted to leave him.

You let your vision slip away as he continued to leave a hot trail of kisses on the slope of your neck, holding your feminine frame close as he rocked his hips further into your hot centre; you two were so close as you felt the heat radiating off both of you, the way his breaths were broken in rhythmic tandem through the process of laboured breaths, and the way you thighs were trembling as you felt your core about to give up on its hold and let release be granted.

Gojo continued to groan, letting the vibration against your skin take you on a travel that made you into a pathetic, melting puddle ready for him to clean up, holding onto his shoulders more as you tightly wrapped your arms around his neck and took in his captivating and enigmatic scent, his aroma filled your senses the more he kept fucking you stupid. There was something linen clean in his scent and a smoked cedar and sandalwood the more you travelled your fingers into his platinum white hair and wrapped your trembling and weak legs around him.

“Aah, Gojo, I-I’m so close.”

“Me too, darling, me too, cum with me,” he hissed out, “I wanna feel you cum on the cock as I fill you up.”

He knocked the wind out of you as you cried out in pleasure when he thrusted his hips in a final and punctuated movement, both of you crying out each other’s names as he filled your tight pussy up with his cloudy release. You let your gushing escape trickle down his pelvis and thigh. Both of you stared at each other in such bliss as you tried to catch your breath.

🏷️taglist: @wintrrxxo @bratbby333 @localkiss @styrofoamplat3s @imaniitheoneee -> if you want to be added check my pinned; if you want to be deleted just message me.

a/n: I know this is late but honestly I needed a day off from my self inflicted pain of 31 days this month lmao, I had reallyyy bad period cramps and migraines last night and I needed to write some more on this and I just couldn't so we are a day late but I doubt anyways cares lmao

#admirxation kinktober 2024 #satoru gojo x reader smut #jujutus kaisen #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #reader insert #anime #anime fanfiction #dividers by cafekitsune #kinktober

142 notes · View notes

loversloch · 3 months ago

Text

[ fnaf: itp au - into the reno ]

More info below cut!

• this form is what everyone sees Pit Bonnie as except for Jeff and Oswald.

• whenever Jeff tries to explain to people that his new ��employee” is actually a “giant yellow rabbit” people just assume he…

1. Is joking / making some sort of innuendo

2. Has lost his marbles

3. Is implying his new employee is just a furry in his off time.

• Oswald is extremely wary around him, but he’s glad at least one other person can see its true form. (He and Jeff bond more over it, surrogate dad Jeff strikes again.)

However, Oz does have to admit…

the pizza does taste way better now.

• PB has on headphones almost all of the time. He’s listening to dictionary audiobooks on repeat. He is constantly is just mumbling the words to himself trying to learn to mimic them.

• Jeff teaches him the very basics of asl that he uses to communicate with his deaf customers (numbers/prices, food and drink words, greetings and gratitude words.) he picks it up way faster than spoken language and defaults to it when he can’t find the right English word.

• Whenever a customer approaches him he just points to Jeff before walking away without saying anything.

[ realizing I just made a Pit bonnie gijinka ]

#fnaf au #into the reno #fnaf into the pit alternate ending because i couldn’t accept that jeff dies in any ending #fnaf pit bonnie #fnaf into the pit #jeff into the pit #fnaf fanart #pittrap #into the pit #fnaf #jeff fnaf #jeff’s pizza #jeff x pittrap #pit bonnie

287 notes · View notes

moondirti · 2 months ago

Note

Who from the 141 speaks the best arabic do you think? From one arab girl to another, it’d be so hot if any of them were fluent 🫠

if my memory serves me correctly, we get a bit in the first campaign from price. to me it seems to be a basic knowledge. a few sentences he picked up on the field and memorised to make his job easier. evac orders, cardinal directions, how to ask for water, food, medicine. that kind of stuff. pure utility, though that’s his approach to most things.

i like to believe (call it bias or whatever) that gaz is fluent. this ties in to my headcanon that he’s the only member who attended and graduated uni, but he strikes me as someone intensely curious about everything. introducing him to something, be it language or cuisine or a skill he hasn’t mastered yet, is like knocking down the floodgates. it’s his time in urzikstan that does it. hearing the way it rolls off farah’s tongue (let’s ignore doumit’s canon pronunciations), or how she’s able to translate a long, winding, clumsy sentence to something short. beautiful.

there’s a word for everything, he finds. one for the state of gossiping with your friends over morning coffee. one to congratulate someone on their cleanliness after a haircut. one that means may you be the one to bury me, for it would be unbearable to live without you – that is used so casually in conversation, kyle is stunned when he learns the true meaning. it doesn’t hold the same expectation, the same trepidation, as it does in english, though it retains its weight all the same. he wonders what makes a language so special that its intrinsic devotion has found a common place within its cultures, and he sets to find out.

this turns into a thing. more rambling under the cut.

the largest learning curve is the alphabet. the sounds that don’t exist in his mother tongue. he’s especially hard on himself when it comes to enunciating them properly – half the beauty is in the way words flow together, and there would really be no point in indulging in arabic’s more lyrical aspects if he’s off pitch. he gets the hang of it eventually, of course, one too many vocal exercises later.

the weathered dictionary he picks up at a second hand store teaches him that most words have three letter roots, and that it isn’t so easy as to look them up alphabetically. picking up new vocab becomes infinitesimally harder, then. for twelve million choices, the distinction between some words comes down to diacritical marks. necklace, decade, contract, held, complicated, and knots are all spelt the same way, yet pronounced ever so slightly different — a fact he learns the hard way when he tells the cashier at the kibbeh place he frequents that he likes her decade.

reading. reading is what helps him get over that.

(he probably should touch on basic grammar first — nouns, verbs, particles, sentence structure, that sort of stuff — but figures he'll pick it up as he goes, basing his methodology on an inability to remember any rules for the english language. he grew up hearing it, reading it, watching it, surrounded by it, so it just is what it is now. why work so hard on task books made for kids, then, when he can just get right into the meat of the matter? acclimatise through force.)

he picks up stacks of books upon books upon poetry. naguib mahfouz. ghada al-samman. al-mutanabbi. mahmoud darwish. it takes him a month to get through the first, and another month for the second. which only means he really takes his time with them, roving over the same line until it's etched into his memory. the cadence, the beats for pause, the way a word he has to punch from his throat is followed by one that lilts, all sing-songy. eventually, he starts to (inadvertently) mimic that sweeping manner of speech, employing it in contexts which certainly don't call for it.

the cashier — the very same one whose age he mistakenly stressed, despite the fact that she couldn't have been much younger than him — is far too nice to say anything about it, smiling instead, endeared, while he waxes poetic about meze.

farah calls him out immediately the next time they catch up.

apparently, no one speaks in classical arabic anymore, go figure. it would be like talking in shakespearean english, she tells him. he imagines it, iambic pentameter and all, and cringes, newly determined. his own research unearths (though it wasn't really a secret) the fact that there are roughly 25 different dialects belonging to different regions — and while some are pretty similar (syrian and lebanese), others could classify as a whole other language on their own (moroccan).

reddit tells him what he already knows; that the best way to learn is through exposure. there are no dictionaries for patois. and farah, despite her total enthusiasm at his interest, is far too busy of a woman to help.

(really, it just gives him an excuse to finally do what he's been meaning to.)

the next time he's craving kibbeh, he's fixed on not making a fool of himself when he asks the cashier out to lunch.

#originally supposed to be headcanon #now its a meet cute #pure self indulgence not sorry #kyle 'gaz' garrick #gaz #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick

227 notes · View notes

teriri-sayes · 4 months ago

Text

Reactions to The Incomprehensible's Chapter 329

Brief summary: Cale's group enters Neo's lair. DHB finally gets a name!

==========

FINALLY! What we are all waiting for is here! Cale finally gave DHB his name! 😭😭😭

DHB's new name is...

EDEN MIRU (이든 미르)

I'm sure a lot of us were expecting a pure Korean word for his name, right? But 'Eden'??? There's actually an explanation for that.

Let's first read an excerpt of Cale's thoughts:

What should I name the Dragon Half-Blood? I tried to think of names with good meanings, like Raon or Dodam. I thought about words that are pretty or cool among the pure Korean words. But does it matter to the Dragon Half-Blood? Raon and Dodam. The two dragons were named with the hopes of the children growing up. But what would be the point of saying them to a Dragon Half-Blood? To be cool? To be happy? To have fun? What's the point of telling the Dragon Half-Blood to be something? Identity. Identity is what bothered this guy. That's why he's constantly searching for his place. "Whether you're a Dragon Half-Blood. Whether you're my enemy. Whether you're a bone dragon." The Dragon Half-Blood came to Cale in various forms. Cale wanted to speak to the one who had lived for nearly a thousand years, the one who hadn't found himself for so long. "Whatever you are, you are you." Whether (Eden). A word used to list two or more things that make no difference which one is chosen. Whether you're a Dragon Half-Blood. Whether you're an enemy or not. Whether you're anything. "To me, you are you, to us, you are you. There is no difference."

이든 is pronounced as "ideun" in Korean. According to the Naver Korean-English dictionary, it is a postpositional particle used when it does not matter which one is chosen. Thus, it can be translated in English as the word "whether".

Interestingly, when the Hebrew word "Eden" is translated into Korean, it uses ideun 이든 too.

Cale also uses some clever wordplay here. If you add the Korean word for "what (무엇)" to the word "whether (이든)", it becomes "whatever/anything (무엇이든)". So Cale tells Eden that he can become anything because it did not matter to them who he was. Eden was just Eden to them. 🥰🥰🥰

This Kakao comment by user Cale-ah was touching: 🥰🥰🥰

Raon Miru. I made this with the hope that you will live happily and joyfully. These are letters and words just for you. Dodam Miru. Dodam means don't get sick, have fun, and grow up safely. You will grow up well in the future. Eden Miru. Whatever you are, you are you and you can be anything. So let's live.

So what does Eden look like now? When he registered into the game, he became an NPC, fully bound to the game world. He took the form of a dragon egg! His eggshell had beautiful patterns of platinum and black with a little of purple mixed in between. And his game title was:

[Eden Miru]

[Status: Pre-Hatching (Recovery Rate: 30%)]

[Title: Half-Human, Half-Dragon with Light and Time]

Whoa!!! Eden seemed to have absorbed Neo's Time attribute. He now had two attributes, Light and Time. And he was also a true Dragon Half-Blood now, being a half-human and a half-dragon! 😭😭😭

Ending Remarks

It's a good day today because we finally have DHB's naming scene. As for what happens next chapter, I'm not sure. It can be more explanation about Eden's new status, or a wrap-up of what happened to Aipotu. Perhaps an explanation about the 1st Evil that was suddenly mentioned in today's chapter too.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family #tcf dragon half blood #tcf eden miru

201 notes · View notes

losing-it-lately · 4 months ago

Text

I Crumble Completely When You Cry

wc: 2k

eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

angst with a happy ending, best friends to enemies to lovers, regular upside down stuff, inspired by this one line in 505 by the arctic monkeys

You aren't dating him. You aren't friends with him. You both don't "talk". Eddie knows all of these things are true, he knows all of these things form the basis of your's and Eddie's relationship- if it can even be called that. But it's not enough. It's not enough to hold him back from you or to suppress that gnawing pit in his stomach or to stop old habits from coming back from the dead. He shouldn't have said that, but what's worse is he shouldn't have done what he did after.

Eddie remembers everything that happened between you two. Everything that went down exists in perfect clarity as if it replays over and over in his mind. And in a way, it does, he hasn't stopped thinking of what happened between you two ever since. And you haven't either.

Eddie would say that what happened started a month or two into the school year- when you finally got into cheer and had gotten through to the team. Wayne would say that what happened started right after Will Byers had been found. Steve Harrington would say that it started when Will was proclaimed missing, but you had always known that what happened between you and Eddie didn't start that year, but was bound to happen from the first day you had met him.

You had always known Eddie. Ever since he had moved into Hawkins, the small and buzzed boy had been on your radar. More than just your radar actually, you had grown the biggest crush on him. He was tall and lanky and unruly and silly and everything that made you grin in the schoolgirl type of way that you did when you got a new crush. Eddie was sweet and you did as much to look after him as possible. Leaving snacks on his desk when you noticed that he didn't bring lunch often, or conveniently losing a pen in the back of the classroom when he had forgotten one or even stopping close family friends like Steve from picking on him; you had looked out for Eddie as long as you had known him, it was bound to happen even when you got older.

At some point, you assumed that your crush would disappear or die out, and then everything would return to normal, but in the midst of Hawkins Middle School was the annual talent show, which changed it all. Eddie was obviously going to apply with his new band, a small group of tweens that he had collected from grades younger than him. However, as he began filling out the form, he hit a dead end. Eddie needed a name, and he needed one quickly. This was the last day to sign up and the members of the council in charge were clearly fed up with him waiting and stalling with the form. Eddie was freaking out. Him and his friends had done so much practice, and now, when he was practically finished, he could feel it all crumble in front of him. And then you walked by.

"Are you ok, Eddie?" He wasn't, and you were ready to do whatever you could to fix it.

As he explained his problem, you searched through your bag. English had just finished last period, surely you still had your dictionary.

Finally, you lugged out the large hard cover and began searching for a word to compliment 'coffin'; scanning through the 'co' page and reading out words until Eddie got you to stop.

"Corroded Coffin! That's it!" His grin was so bright, you couldn't help but mirror it, and you knew in that moment that you would be taking care of Eddie Munson for as long as you could, no matter what it took.

And that's how you saw it, especially after November of 1984. You had just started cheer, Eddie had started a Dungeons and Dragons Club that you frequented every Thursday and your grades were falling right into place. Life felt perfect in a way, and then Will Byers went missing. And you spent too much time helping Jonathan Byers. And then you got wrapped up into a government conspiracy.

You were in danger. White vans of men circling around you and the kids you looked after, every single communication monitored and the constant threat of something worse than mankind. It was an easy decision- you had to get Eddie away from all of this.

Will may have been back, but gates still opened, and the labs still checked on you, and you had nightmares and scars that you couldn't explain to Eddie without getting him involved. So you did what had to be done. Late December, after having ignored and avoided Eddie for what felt like forever, you cut him off.

It was a second nature to find Eddie in the midst of the trees and shrubbery behind Hawkins high. At his table, playing lazily with the old wooden planks and graffiti-ing more song lyrics and initials onto the bench where he sat. Eddie looked bored and desolate as you made your way towards him. Your nerves were working overtime and your eyes were bloodshot from the many nights without sleep, and while the pep talk from Steve helped, it wasn't enough to stop your hands from fidgeting and smoothing down the top of your uniform. Your uniform needed to be on for this to work, and the only way this would work was if Eddie bought it, if Eddie hated you.

The wind rustled through your hair and the leaves crumbled under you, one making a particularly perfect sound that alerted Eddie of your presence. As soon as he recognised you, a wide grin split on his face, the same one you had always known and the one you were about to begin to miss. You almost returned it too, the reflex being nearly too natural to bypass.

As he got up to hug you for the first time in a while, you began to speak. "I don't think we should be friends anymore," surely, if you were straightforward and neutral, this would be easier for the both of you?

"What?" His voice was small and shocked and soft. "What do you me-"

"I can't be friends with someone like you. You're a freak and I'm changing for the better." Your eyes began to gloss over. You felt dirty and cheap, using things that Eddie had told you during quiet nights over against him. How could the right thing feel so wrong?

"What are you saying," he began to laugh with a dry and quiet disbelief. Something must have been wrong, and in retrospect, Eddie would be able to see that, but for now, the sting of betrayal was enough for him to egg you on.

"You can't keep calling me, or talking to me, or even looking at me, Eddie," the tears were falling now, and your cheer jacket wasn't enough to shield you from that look in Eddie's eyes. It was one of pain and confusion and it was something you had never seen before. "I have a new life now."

And then his eyes changed and what you saw became worse. Frozen over, his eyes had become blank and lifeless, it was as if he couldn't recognise you anymore, and the truth was, you didn't recognise yourself either. But you needed to do this, to protect him.

"Fine. Fuck you," and so you left. You turned your back on Eddie and to him, you never looked back. You walked away all self-righteous and whatever and you broke his heart. Eddie Munson loved you and hated you. That's not true, Eddie Munson loves you, and he has to deal with the fact that you want nothing to do with him. For so long, he was overjoyed with just having your presence as platonic, but he should have prepared for not having it at all.

And you. Walking away with your back turned as if it wasn't harder than fighting those stupid demogorgons. Muffling your own sobs like you had when you were hiding with the kids in a random laboratory in Hawkins Middle School. Running faster to Steve's car once you had reached the Hawkins High Parking lot than you had when being chased by those special agents. Turning away from Eddie was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you had survived it, just barely.

You had made the right decision too. Closing the gate and shutting downs Hawkins Lab was one thing, and then the Russians re-opened the gate and brought out a fleshy nightmare to fight. Finally, it was all over.

The Government monitored you for a few more months, made you sign a massive NDA and transferred the largest sum of money that you had ever seen into your bank account. So you signed up for a job at the Family Video, covered your community college fees and bought a trailer in Forest Hills. You didn't mean to, but now you were living next to Eddie.

It had been years, it must be safe now to make amends. Eddie may not love you like you love him, but at least, you both could be amicable neighbours. You could see him putting out the trash and get a small and courteous smile. It wouldn't be like what you had before, but you could be content. So you baked him some cookies. His favourites had always been the brownie and chocolate chip chunk hybrid you made for his birthday. Your hand had a small burn and you cut yourself when you were cutting the chocolate, but you couldn't feel any of the pain when you saw him take the first bite of the cookie.

And so you did. You baked them and brought a warm batch over to Eddie's. You knocked after Wayne left and waited until a disgruntled Eddie opened the door. His hair was tied up in a bun and his eyes had circles and he wasn't wearing a shirt- he had definitely grown since the last time you had spoken.

"Hey," you started with a developing unease in your voice. How can you do this successfully? "I'm your new neighbour." You offered him the tray of cookies with a small smile as his eyes narrowed down into yours.

After years of ignorance and silence on your end, cookies were the solution. Bitterness and anger took the wheel and Eddie reached for tray and dumped them onto the porch. "You need to leave right now." His voice had hardened into something deep and furious and once again, you were taken back to the late December afternoon. But this time, Eddie noticed your foggy eyes, clouded over with a fresh onslaught of tears.

Your gaze was lowered to the cookies you had spent so long slaving over in the Hawkins heat. Crumbs were on your nice shoes and the chocolate was beginning to melt into the 'welcome home' mat. The trailer was a home for you. You kept falling into your thoughts, waiting for Eddie to slam the door in front of you, fuelled by his disappointment or his distaste or his detest, but it never came. Instead a calloused hand cradled your face.

You used to hold Eddie like this when he would cry, both hands holding up his face so that you could wipe the tears off, but Eddie had just realised that he had never done it back for you. He began to quietly hum and whisper, "sorry". His face had reformed into something less harsh, because under all the anger, he still missed you.

Once your eyes finally met, Eddie remembered what had happened between you, and his hands dropped. He shouldn't have said that or destroyed your cookies or held your face, but old habits die hard. Three or four years and Eddie still couldn't forget you. You cry once, and his whole resolve crumbled. You don't know about the ballads that he's written for you or campaigns in which you still make an appearance. You don't know that Eddie lied to Hellfire, saying he made you leave and you don't know that he moved Hellfire to Fridays to make sure that you could never come back without ditching cheer. You don't know how many times Eddie has thought about you in his arms, your face in his hands and you don't know about all the things he has done for you.

And now, you are so close, Eddie doesn't know what to do. You wipe your eyes. Your cheeks still burn from embarrassment and desire, you want him to hold you so delicately again.

"Can I come inside? I need to tell you about November of 1984." He opens the door wider to make space for you to enter. He needs to tell you that he's been in love with you since longer than that.

send me an ask if you want me to add onto this or make anything clear and reblog if you enjoyed this story! lots of love xxx

267 notes · View notes

sterredem · 4 months ago

Text

Folkmore

F1 grid x singer!driver!reader

Face claim Taylor Swift

Warning not proofread, spelling mistakes

Summary after the success of RED y/n still isn’t done with music.

Part 1

A/N I wrote this in the middle of the night in a few hours so it isn’t the best. Also I made a few of the things myself so it isn’t the best. And y’all are getting spoiled with 2 fics on the same day:)

Instagram

Liked by LewisHamilton and 5.836.836 others

Yourusername Another great race in Hungary! P2 for the team! A quick break before Spa. I’ll take that time to work on some fun things got y’all😉 Also congrats to Oscar for the win!

View all 976.836 comments

Scuderiaferrari Great job Y/n👏

Charles_Leclerc another great race indeed💪

OliviaRodrigo multi talented queen

SabrinaCarpenter One of the first f1 races I have ever seen. I was STRESSING watching it. Great job love!

User1 You can’t just announce that either those covers and then go on like nothing is happening😭😭

User2 P2 LETS GOOO

User3 it’s so funny ti see that after she released the album she suddenly has millions more followers and millions more likes on her post. Proud of you queen

User4 Fun things????

User5 gorgeous

User6 The car is looking great

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by BonIver and 9.735.836 others

Yourusername Another suprise! While I was writing RED about my own experiences I also needed an escape from the real world, so I wrote this album. This is an album full of tales about characters that I made up in my head. Thank you to all the people that helped me write this and helped me make my dream come true. This is also an album that unlike the other one Is filled with poetry (I have always loved that). So I would recommend that if you want the full experience that you hold a dictionary close to you. I hope you will all love this as much as I do. Folklore is out now🩶

View all 696.836 comments

BonIver I had a great time making this with you🩶

Charles_Leclerc another great piece of art

LewisHamilton Your creativity never fails to amaze me

Landonorris just in time, I was beginning ti search for new music

OscarPiastri It’s insane that you know words that I have never heard of and that you aren’t even a native English speaker

User1 WHAT?!? HAHSNUSGENAIHAHH

User2 This is just… I have no words

User3 these song are just…… I am so amazed at how amazing this is

User4 tho sis just the most amazing mix of hard destroying songs and a teenager in love

User5 going from red to this is insane but also so understandable (mostly with some of the songs on red)

User6 just imagine these songs live……

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Scuderiaferrari and 5.826.836 others

Yourusername Not the results we hoped for but in the points nonetheless. See you next Singapore.

View all 646.726 comments

User7 you’ll get back up soon

User8 this caption is so sad and then you have the happy Y/n pictures from the folklore photo shoot

User9 perfect human

User10 Ferrari is really disappointing these last few races

User11 I am loving the aesthetic

User12 Why haven’t we heard of a contract extension yet??? What is this Ferrari?? She is on Eid the best drivers on the grid!

User13 Y/N WOTLD DOMINATION!!

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 8.736.256 others

Yourusername Folklore the long pond studio sessions out now on Disney plus. This is a documentary that shows the story behind every wingman’s a live version of all the songs. The songs will also be on Spotify soon! I hope everyone will enjoy it and will enjoy knowing the story’s behind every song🩶

View all 265.725 comments

OliviaRodrigo A masterpiece might I say

SabrinaCarpenter One of the best movie I have ever seen

LewisHamilton Every time I see something you have created it amazes me more and more

Charles_Leclerc You always hit with the things you make Y/n

Landonorris My new favourite movie

User1 A MOVIE?!?!

User2 I have never been happier that I have Disney plus!!

User3 On Spotify too?! And the vocals are just INSANE

User4 the love triangle is my favourite thing ever

User5 Y/n drinking red whine just makes so much sense. I can’t explain it

User6 besides the point but I just love that the drivers are supporting her

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Haim and 9.836.826 others

Yourusername Triple surprise! After writing folklore (and red) I just couldn’t stop. So I didn’t. And this is what came from that. The sister album of Folklore; Evermore! This is again an album of tales that I have made up in my head, but there are also a few songs that are very close to my hard. One for example being Marjorie, this song is about my grandmother that has sadly passed away, and the song explains the rest. This album is very close ego my hard. I thank the poeple that have helped me make this and I hope you all like it as much as I do🤎

View all 827.836 comments

LewisHamilton I am once again proven wrong with your amazing writin and story telling

SelenaGomez What a lovely album🤎

Haim it was an honour working with you

Honeymoon I am proud to say that I was a fan before red🤎 amazing job Y/n

Landonorris you killed it (literally)

OscarPiastri Crying in the floor atm

Charles_Leclerc another emotional rollercoaster

MaxVerstappen1 What a piece of art Y/n

User7 I’m claiming right where you left me

User8 ANOTHER ALBUM?!?! I’ve just come by from red and folklore (not that I’m complaining)

User9 my fav sisters; folklore and evermore 🩶🤎

User10 no body, no crime is so unhinged and I love it

User11 all Gina dj stuff but where is the contract extension announcement?!?!

User12 SO PROUD!!

User13 my little indie artist🤎🩶

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 6.826.836 others

Yourusername I am very bittersweet to announce that this will be my last season in Formula 1. While I am very happy that I have gotten this opportunity, and while I still really enjoy it. I think it is time for me to step off. I know I am still considering young(with being 24) but with my other hobby’s and career I have devoted that it would smartest if I focus on my music career. I will finish this season(hopefully with a championship) and then I will retire. I which the best of luck to the team and to Charles and for my replacement for the next year. Thank you all for the support and I love you all❤️

View all 826.826 comments

Lewishamilton it was an amazing time racing against you❤️

Charles_Leclerc it was an honour to be your teammate. I which you the best with your career

Landonorris I had a lot of fun racing alongside you. I which you the best in the future

User1 NOOOOO

User2 OMG?!?! IS THIS EHY FERRARI HADNT ANNOUNCED ANYTHING??

User3 I am sad that she will leave f1 but I am also happy because MORE MUSIC!

User4 wait could this maybe mean… a tour??

User5 I cried while watching this video

User6 We such you the best!

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Scuderiaferrari and 7.464.375 others

Yourusername Thank you all so much for all the support these last few years. This was my last race in Formula 1, and it was a win. I am so grateful for all the people that made this dream possible! This will not be the last time you see me, just the last time you see me on the track. Again, thank you all so much for supporting me in this dream. And good luck Ollie, I know your going to do it great in Ferrari❤️

View all 863.736 comments

LewisHamilton Have a great retirement y/n/n

Charles_Leclerc it was an honour racing alongside you

Landonorris we will miss you

OscarPiastri I may not have driver with you for long but I which you all the best with music

Maxverstappen1 Have an amazing time and I which you the best of lunch with the music

User7 We Will miss you Y/n!

User8 I was crying when I watched her the last few laps of the race😢

User9 all the driver congratulating her at the end had me tearing up

User10 Forza Ferrari!!

User11 this is so bittersweet

User12 MY FAVOURITE EX-DRIVER

User13 this what’s such an emotional race

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Phoebebridgers and 9.836.836 others

Yourusername I am delighted to announce my brand new (and first) tour! Y/n Y/l/n | The Eras Tour, a journey through my last 3 eras. International dates will be announced as soon as I can and thank you to all the amazing singers that will go with me on this tour🫶

Comments are disabled

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 11.376.635 others

Yourusername What an amazing first show! I am shocked at how good you all know the songs! This is the first show of many to come!

Comments are disabled

|———————————<3—————————————|

No part3. This is the end.

200 notes · View notes

wellofdean · 8 months ago

Text

OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #the queerness is baked in from the word go #like...OBVIOUSLY #and transparently

167 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 7 days ago

Note

Hi, Spaniard here who is equally fascinated and frustrated about the Squidgeworld thing. Here is the thing: dialects exists, tuteo vs voseo exists, vocabulary and slang differences exist, and yet, nothing that a quick glance at a panhispanic dictionary can't solve (the Royal Spanish Academy dictionary offers definitions that specify dialect and all). Hell, most of the time context is all I need.

Now, my two grains of salt on this matter is that despite the claims that this was requested, I have a hard time believing these were requests by anyone that thought this through. Why? Because as part of my assigned reading at my spanish school, I had to read plenty LATAM authors and poets (Gabriel García Márquez, Juan Rulfo, Pablo Neruda, Julio Cortázar, etc...). I'm starting to think some (non-hispanic) people might be under the impression that we don't read each other at all? Or something along those lines? The Miguel de Cervantes Prize* regularly awards both LATAM and spanish authors. The point I'm making here is that spanish/hispanic literature includes everyone as it isn't spanish/hispanic -> works from spain but spanish/hispanic -> works written in spanish. The semantics are a bit confusing, I will admit.

*which was created by the Ministry of Culture of Spain and whose candidates are proposed by the Association of Academies of the Spanish Language an organisation created by mexican president Miguel Alemán Valdés.

In any case: there isn't any difference in dialect so significant that they are completely unintelligible and should be separated. And as other people have said, LATAM dialects have differences amongst themselves so it doesn't make sense to bag them together but also splitting them is kind of ridiculous as well, not to mention the regional differences in castillian within Spain itself. It's just... this doesn't seem like a decision made by someone who is fluent in spanish.

The only thing that has ever made my comprehension of LATAM spanish difficult at times is the accents, which you cannot hear in text form, and even that is not that much of a hurdle bc after a while you get used to it.

Now, I have noticed that word processors have spanish (es) and spanish (latam) for the spell checking, so that might be where they got the idea that the two should be split. However english also tends to be separated in english (uk) and (us) (as well as (can)? in gdocs at least) so that still doesn't fully explain it.

And just for a bit of linguistic fun: if you put a group of spanish speakers from different regions together they eventually adopt each others linguistic habits. A spanish friend of mine now regularly uses "chama/o" bc she made friends with a venezuelan girl while studying in France (in Spain we say 'tía/o'), an argentine acquantaince uses tú/vos interchangeably, another ecuatorian friend distinguishes 's' and 'c' and her accent comes and goes because she grew up in Spain, younger spaniards use 'güey/wey' and 'weón' now, which wasn't a originally thing in Spain... It goes on and on.

This got long, sorry about that, I'm a language/literature nerd. It's just so puzzling to me.

58 notes · View notes

shivadh · 3 months ago

Note

Also also, how much of the language do you have figured out at this point? I keep on wishing it was something I could learn, because tavat as a concept has me in a chokehold. Do you only have what you've used, or is there a secret word document with a dictionary and grammar rules being put together?

I've got a little tiny bit of grammar and some vocabulary, but that's about it, and the vocab is basically split between "made it up because it sounds fun" and "nicked it off nearby countries". Like Naran Juice Box Company is a Shivadh company, and they primarily used to sell orange juice so they use the Shivadh word for orange, "Naran", which has an obvious relationship to the Spanish word "Naranja". The football team takes after the "giallorossi" (yellow-reds) of Roma and call themselves the "Levenaran" (blue-oranges) but Leve is just made up because it fit well -- and of course if you are a member of the team you don't just support the levenaran, you are considered "Levenaranh".

Tavat was likewise made up to sound dramatic. :D At least as far as I recall. I wrote most of Infinite Jes on my phone while traveling, across about three weeks, and usually after going to bed, so my memories of composing it are remarkably hazy.

I will eventually actually have a public webpage with all the Shivadh language stuff on it, though. I'm building a wiki for the books which is mostly just needed by me so I'm not constantly looking up shit, and one page will be what is canonical about the Shivadh language.

I know some things; the big one is that the language uses suffixes frequently, so you'd modify a word by appending a suffix rather than using an adjective. The -h on the end of Shivadh to indicate nationality isn't used super commonly but it's meant to indicate origin, like it's basically "of" but where "of" denotes being from somewhere ("I am of Shivadlakia" but not "It's full of stars"). I just recently included -ic in the last short story as a diminutive, so when Michaelis says "tavatic" he's calling his grandson a sweet little prince. He wouldn't use "tavatic" for Joan or Noah, they're too old; when he calls Joan "mio Ioannina" he's speaking Italian, and using a diminutive that's more appropriate to her age.

In the football novel, the protagonist Paolo is often called Paodet, which is a nickname Gerald made up for him when they were younger. Paolo didn't get a ton of Shivadh language because he left the country for football reasons fairly young, but he knows -det means "beautiful" so he's Beautiful Paul, basically. What he's not really cognizant of for a while is that -det has a specific connotation of a thing, so he's beautiful like a statue, not like a person, because he was always a little standoffish.

And of course "Dy" is boat, which gets the general intensifier -chev added to make sure it's the boatiest. Which is also how we get "Ejechev", the equivalent of the Italian "Daje" or the English "Go team!"

But yeah, most of it's just nouns, so I'll have a list up eventually. :D I'm about a third of the way done with the wiki -- all the notes have been taken and sorted into various files, but now I need to turn "a bunch of copypasta notes from the books" into cohesive profile pages on, say, Shivadh culture, or Gerald Dux Shivadlakia, or the RSBC, or Institut Alpin. It's not difficult, just time consuming.

#research #shivadh culture #spiritwildheartofachild

102 notes · View notes

tosomeonessomeone · 10 months ago

Text

Let me teach you.

words・8k /pairings・Lee know x reader / genres・fluff, humor / warnings・ none

In a dimly lit meeting room at JYP Entertainment, Stray Kids gathered for a crucial discussion about the possibility of expanding their promotions into English-speaking markets. JYP, wearing a serious expression, addressed the group.

"Stray Kids, as we contemplate reaching international audiences, it's imperative to tackle the language barrier," JYP began, his gaze focused on the members. "Particularly, we need to address Minho's English proficiency."

Minho couldn't help but let out a subtle, resigned sigh. He knew what was coming.

"I've decided to bring in an English teacher for the group," JYP continued, sensing the mixed reactions in the room. "Enhancing your language skills is crucial for effective communication during promotions."

Minho, with a touch of sarcasm, muttered, "Great. Just what I always wanted - English classes."

The comment elicited a few chuckles from the members, and even JYP couldn't help but crack a small smile.

Bang Chan, exchanging a quick glance with Felix, whispered, "Looks like our Korean-English dictionary days are over."

Felix, smirking, replied, "Guess we're free from the classes."

JYP, sensing the humor in the room, redirected the focus. "Minho, it's essential for the team. This will help us connect better with international audiences."

Minho, rolling his eyes, mumbled, "Fantastic. I feel like I'm going to die."

Hyunjin, unable to contain his laughter, chimed in, "Minho, you won't die. It's just English class."

As the room filled with laughter, JYP made an announcement, "Now, Bang Chan and Felix, I'm exempting you from the classes. You'll serve as personal support to help others if needed."

Bang Chan, sharing a smirk with Felix, remarked, "Looks like we're still the language bridge."

Felix, grinning, added, "Lucky us."

The laughter continued, but Minho couldn't shake the feeling that the impending English lessons were unavoidable. As the group bantered, the decision to hire an English teacher marked the beginning of a new chapter for Stray Kids in the global music scene.

As you walk into the JYP Entertainment building, the receptionist directs you to Mr. Park's office. Nervously, you approach, and to your surprise, he stands up, extends a hand, and warmly greets you.

JYP: Welcome! We're thrilled to have you on board. I've heard great things about your work in linguistics.

You: Thank you, Mr. Park. I'm excited to contribute.

JYP leads you down a corridor, sharing stories about Stray Kids and the global impact they hope to achieve. He stops in front of a door, opens it, and gestures for you to enter.

JYP: This will be your classroom. We've set it up with everything you requested.

You step inside, and your eyes widen. The room is spacious, neatly arranged desks facing a large whiteboard. There's even a shelf stocked with books.

You: Oh, this is perfect. Thank you so much.

JYP: Anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. We want you to feel comfortable.

As you settle in, JYP leaves you to organize your materials. Later, a staff member brings in a stack of books you requested, and you're impressed by the efficiency.

You spend some time arranging the room to your liking, imagining the upcoming English lessons with Stray Kids. The door opens, and JYP pokes his head in.

JYP: How's everything coming along?

You: It's fantastic, thank you. I appreciate the support and the resources provided.

JYP: Great to hear. We believe in giving you the tools you need to succeed.

He leaves you to finalize your preparations, and as you look around the classroom, a sense of excitement and anticipation fills the air. This is the beginning of a unique journey, and you can't wait to share your linguistic expertise with Stray Kids.

*your pov*

As I stepped into the classroom that JYP Entertainment had prepared for my English classes with Stray Kids, I couldn't help but be amazed. The room was well-lit, spacious, and equipped with all the resources I needed – a teacher's dream come true.

I looked at the neatly arranged desks, the large whiteboard, and the shelf stocked with books. It felt like the perfect environment to foster effective learning. The attention to detail showed the commitment of JYP to make this experience worthwhile for both me and Stray Kids.

Despite the excitement, a subtle nervousness lingered in the background. Meeting idols was an entirely different ball game compared to my interactions with university professors. I chuckled to myself, finding it amusing how I, usually composed and confident among colleagues, felt a twinge of nervousness at the prospect of working with Stray Kids.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that they were just individuals passionate about music, like any other students I had taught. Yet, the thought of sharing a classroom with idols who had achieved international fame made my heart race a bit.

As I went through the lesson plans and materials, the nervous energy slowly transformed into a mix of anticipation and curiosity. I wondered how our dynamic would unfold in this unique educational setting. Regardless of the initial jitters, I was determined to make the English classes not only educational but also an enjoyable experience for Stray Kids. After all, language learning should be as dynamic and exciting as their music.

As I stood in the impeccably prepared classroom, my nervousness was exacerbated by the thought that perhaps my outfit was a tad too much for the occasion. I looked down at my tailored dark brown high-waist pants, the cream turtleneck elegantly tucked in, paired with dark brown ankle boots – a complete ensemble that leaned heavily into the dark academia aesthetic.

My round glasses, chosen for their practicality, unintentionally contributed to the whole 'bookish' vibe. I couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the irony. Amongst idols who often wore stylish and trendy outfits, I felt like I had walked into the scene of a classic literature lecture rather than an English class with Stray Kids.

Taking a moment to compose myself, I reminded myself that professionalism was key, regardless of my own self-perceived fashion choices. As I prepared for the arrival of Stray Kids, I hoped my nervousness would soon be overshadowed by the excitement of the teaching journey ahead.

*Stray kids pov*

Lost in your thoughts, you were adjusting the materials on the desk when the door swung open. One by one, the members of Stray Kids walked into the classroom, each bringing a burst of energy that seemed to fill the room.

Hyunjin's playful banter echoed through the room as he took a seat, while Bang Chan entered with a calm confidence, giving you a reassuring nod. Seungmin and Jeongin followed suit, completing the ensemble. As they settled into their seats, you realized that the nervousness that had gripped you earlier was slowly dissipating, replaced by a sense of eagerness to begin this unique educational journey with Stray Kids.

As each member of Stray Kids filed into the classroom, their eyes widened in surprise at the sight of such a young academic teacher. You, with your tailored dark academia outfit and round glasses, exuded a sense of youthful sophistication that left the boys momentarily taken aback.

Felix couldn't help but flash a friendly smile, instantly charmed by your presence. Changbin, usually composed, found himself subtly impressed by the elegant coordination of your outfit. Hyunjin, known for his keen sense of style, couldn't help but appreciate the aesthetic appeal you brought to the classroom.

As the members settled into their seats, Minho, in particular, struggled to hide his surprise. He felt a mixture of awe and anxiety, not only at the youthful appearance of the teacher but also at the realization that he was about to dive into English classes—a subject that had always been a bit challenging for him.

Seated at his desk, Minho stole glances, attempting to process the unexpected combination of a young academic instructor who, besides being knowledgeable, also possessed an undeniable beauty. He pondered how such an elegant presence would navigate the dynamics of teaching Stray Kids, especially when language proficiency was at the core.

While the boys were captivated by your appearance, there was an underlying sense of curiosity about how the upcoming English classes would unfold. As the initial surprise settled, they couldn't help but wonder how this unique blend of youth, beauty, and academic prowess would shape their language learning journey.

*end of povs*

You stand at the front of the class, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. Clearing your throat, you begin, "Hello everyone. My name is [Your Name], I'm 29 years old, and I'm from [Your Birthplace]. Professionally, I work in linguistics."

You can feel their eyes on you, and a few polite smiles greet your introduction. It's your turn to guide them through this language journey.

"Now, let's practice introducing ourselves. How about we start with Bang Chan? Can you tell us your name, age, where you're from, and what you do?" you prompt.

Bang Chan, with a confident smile, responds, "Sure. I'm Bang Chan, 26 years old, from Sydney, Australia. I'm the leader of Stray Kids."

You nod in approval, impressed by his fluency. Then, turning to Felix, you ask, "And how about you, Felix?"

Felix, grinning, says, "I'm Felix, 23, from Sydney too. I'm a rapper and dancer in Stray Kids."

You can't help but appreciate their smooth English. "Great job, both of you. Now, even though you two are already fluent, I appreciate you being here for moral support. It'll be helpful for everyone."

Bang Chan nods, "Absolutely, we're here to help however we can."

You guided the introductions smoothly, starting with Chanbin, who confidently stated his role as the main rapper in Stray Kids.

"Sure thing. I'm Chanbin, 24 years old, from South Korea. I'm the main rapper in Stray Kids," he announced with assurance.

Then, Hyunjin, the lead dancer, followed suit with a friendly introduction.

"Hey, I'm Hyunjin, 23, also from South Korea. I'm the lead dancer," Hyunjin greeted with a warm smile.

When it came to Minho's turn, his nervousness was palpable as he stuttered through his introduction, mentioning his roles in both rapping and singing.

"Um, I'm Minho, 25, from South Korea too. I, uh, rap and sing," Minho nervously expressed, his words stumbling slightly.

Despite his unease, you praised Minho's effort before moving on to I.N, the maknae and lead vocalist, who greeted the group with a warm smile.

"Hi, I'm I.N, 22, from South Korea as well. I'm the maknae and lead vocalist," I.N introduced himself cheerfully.

Seungmin chimed in next, his voice steady and confident. “I’m Seungmin, 22, from South Korea. I’m the main vocalist,” he introduced himself smoothly.

Han followed, his tone calm and collected. “I’m Han, 22, also from South Korea. I’m the main rapper and producer,” he stated with a nod.

With the introductions completed, Bang Chan raised his hand slightly, seeking your attention.

"Can I ask you something, [Your Name]?" Bang Chan inquired.

"Of course, Bang Chan. What's on your mind?" you responded, curious about his question.

Bang Chan, looking intrigued, remarked, "You seem really knowledgeable about linguistics. Why did you decide to study it?"

Explaining your passion for language, especially phonetics and phonology, you shared how understanding sound production and linguistic patterns fascinated you. As you delved deeper into the subject during your undergraduate studies, your interest only grew stronger.

Impressed, Bang Chan nodded, acknowledging the depth of your interest. "That's really cool. I can see how that knowledge would be valuable for teaching English," he remarked.

"Absolutely," you replied with enthusiasm. "It's my pleasure to share what I've learned and make language learning enjoyable for everyone."

As the English classes progressed, you couldn't help but notice a stark contrast in the language abilities of the Stray Kids members. While most of them exhibited decent English skills, one stood out – Lee Minho. Despite his efforts, Minho struggled with English more noticeably than the others.

Throughout the first couple of weeks, you worked hard to foster a friendly and supportive environment in the classroom. The other members responded positively, forming a fellowship that made the learning process enjoyable. However, Minho remained distant, his struggles with English creating a barrier between him and the rest of the group, including you.

As the end of another class approached, you made a decision. It was time to address the elephant in the room and reach out to Minho. Taking a deep breath, you approached him as the others filed out of the classroom.

"Minho, can I have a word with you?" you asked gently, noticing the hint of apprehension in his eyes.

Minho nodded, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"So, I've been thinking" you began, your tone gentle yet earnest. "I understand that English might be challenging for you, and I want to support you in the best way possible."

Minho listened intently, his expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"I believe that with some extra attention and tailored guidance, we can make significant progress in your English proficiency" you continued, offering him a reassuring smile. "Would you be open to having extra classes where we can focus more on your individual learning needs?"

Minho hesitated for a moment, processing your suggestion. Then, with a nod, he replied, "I think that could really help. Thank you for offering."

You felt a surge of relief and determination knowing that Minho was willing to take the extra step to improve his English skills. Together, you discussed a schedule for the additional classes, ensuring that they would fit seamlessly into his routine without overwhelming him.

With a sense of purpose and optimism, you left the conversation knowing that you had taken a significant step toward helping Minho unlock his full potential in English. As you prepared for the extra classes, you were filled with determination to support him every step of the way on his language learning journey.

After several weeks of dedicating extra time to Minho's English improvement, you realized that traditional methods weren't fully engaging him. Determined to find a way to connect with him, you decided to bring a different approach to the table.

As you entered the classroom, Lino, your lovely cat, nestled comfortably in your arms. Today, you planned to make him the main topic of conversation, knowing that Minho had a fondness for cats and hoping to bridge a connection between him and the subject matter.

"Good morning, Minho" you greeted warmly as you set Lino down on the desk. "Today, we have a special guest joining us."

Minho's eyes lit up with surprise and curiosity as he looked at the fluffy feline.

"Meet Lino" you continued, patting the cat's head gently. "He's here to help us practice English today."

Minho's gaze shifted between you and the cat, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Did you know," you began, "that Lino's name sounds a lot like your stage name?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Minho's lips as he considered the connection.

"Oh, I’m honored.” he smiled.

Encouraged by his response, you delved into a discussion about cats, weaving in English vocabulary related to pets and animals. Minho's engagement grew with each topic you introduced, his confidence in speaking English gradually blossoming in the comfortable and familiar context of his love for cats.

As you conducted the English class, your cat, Lino, decided to make his presence known in an unexpected way – by gravitating towards Minho more than you, much to your amusement.

Minho chuckled as Lino curled up beside him, earning an affectionate scratch behind the ears. "Lino likes me." he remarked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "Seems like it! He must sense that you're a cat person."

Minho smiled, his demeanor relaxed and comfortable as he continued to stroke Lino's fur. "I am," he admitted. "I have three cats back home – Soon, Dong, and Dori."

"Three cats? That's wonderful." you replied, genuinely intrigued. "What are they like?"

Minho's face lit up as he began to describe each of his furry companions, his English still a bit basic but improving with each sentence. "Soon is playful, always chasing after toys. Dong is more laid-back, loves cuddling. And Dori, well, Dori is the mischievous one, always getting into trouble."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you listened to Minho speak about his cats. Despite the occasional mix of Korean and basic English constructions, his enthusiasm and willingness to communicate in English were clear signs of progress.

"That's amazing, Minho." you remarked, unable to hide the happiness in your voice. "Your English is really improving. Keep up the great work!"

Minho's smile widened, a sense of pride evident in his expression. "Thank you" he said sincerely. "I'm trying my best."

As time passed and the English classes continued, you found yourself forming a beautiful friendship with Minho that went beyond the classroom. He became more comfortable around you, showing his playful and "crazy" side, which only deepened your bond.

"You're such a goofball, Minnie," you teased, using the secret nickname you had created for him.

Grinning, Minho leaned closer. "And you are too serious, pumpkin " he replied, using the adorable nickname he had bestowed upon you.

The nickname exchange became a cherished secret between the two of you, a symbol of the special bond you shared. Whenever you were alone inside the class, you would affectionately refer to each other as pumpkin and Minnie, a reminder of the friendship that had blossomed between you.

As the days went by, the other members of Stray Kids continued to address you as "[Your Name] Noona," a term of endearment that filled you with warmth and affection. But it was the secret nicknames shared between you and Minho that held a special place in your heart, a testament to the unique connection you had forged through laughter, learning, and friendship.

As the members of Stray Kids gathered in the practice room, their attention gravitated towards the budding connection between you and Minho during the English classes. Whispers and curious glances circulated among them as they observed the growing closeness.

Hyunjin leaned in, breaking the silence with a whisper, "Have you guys noticed how [Your Name] Noona and Minho have been getting along lately?"

Felix nodded in agreement. "Yeah, they seem really comfortable around each other."

Chanbin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And did you hear those secret nicknames they were using? 'Pumpkin' and 'Minnie'?"

Seungmin chuckled softly. "It's like they have their own little world."

Bang Chan smiled, acknowledging the connection. "They do seem to have a special bond. It's nice to see."

Han nodded in agreement. "They're always laughing and joking together. It's obvious there's something more than just friendship."

I.N's curiosity peaked. "Do you think they're dating?"

Bang Chan shrugged thoughtfully. "It's hard to say, but there's definitely a connection between them."

Hyunjin grinned mischievously. "I bet they're secretly planning romantic dinners and long walks on the beach."

Felix rolled his eyes playfully. "Hyunjin, don't be ridiculous."

Chanbin interjected with a thoughtful tone. "Whatever it is, they seem happy together. And that's all that matters."

As the conversation continued, the members couldn't shake the feeling that there was indeed something special brewing between you and Minho. Whether it was a budding romance or simply a deep and meaningful friendship, one thing was for certain – the bond between you and Minho was undeniable, and it brought warmth and joy to everyone around you.

One day as the scorching sun beat down relentlessly, you braved the extreme heatwave to attend the English class with Stray Kids. Determined to maintain your signature vintage and classy style despite the weather, you opted for a mid-length summer dress with a vintage flair. The dress flowed gracefully around you, its light fabric providing a semblance of relief against the oppressive heat.

Paired with your favorite classy flats, you embraced the academia aesthetic that you adored. The outfit exuded elegance and sophistication, a reflection of your personal style and commitment to looking your best even in the sweltering heat.

As you stepped into the classroom, a surge of relief swept over you at the sight of the functioning air conditioning, offering a welcome escape from the oppressive heat outside. With a contented sigh, you began organizing the books for today's planned competition, your heart brimming with anticipation.

Minutes ticked by, and one by one, the members of Stray Kids trickled into the classroom. Their eyes were drawn to your radiant presence, accentuated by the soft glow of the classroom lights. They couldn't help but admire you, their internal thoughts filled with awe and appreciation.

"Wow, [Your Name] looks stunning today," Felix remarked.

"She always does. It's like she stepped out of a fashion magazine," Hyunjin chimed in.

Chanbin nodded in agreement, adding, "She's got that vintage charm down pat."

As the members settled into their seats, their attention shifted to Minho. They couldn't help but notice the subtle change in his demeanor, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and something deeper.

"Hey, Minho, you alright?" Bang Chan noticed, sensing Minho's reaction.

"Yeah, you seem kinda lost in thought there," Han observed.

Minho struggled to contain the flood of emotions swirling within him. With each glance at you, his heart threatened to burst from his chest, overwhelmed by the depth of his affection for you.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost in thought," Minho managed to reply, his voice barely above a whisper.

Throughout the English class, Minho's thoughts remained consumed by you. Your presence filled the room with warmth and light, illuminating his heart in ways he never thought possible. And as he stole glances at you throughout the class, he couldn't help but wonder if you felt the same way too.

As the class progressed and the competition ensued, Minho's initial hesitance and uncertainty gave way to a remarkable transformation. With a newfound determination shining in his eyes, he threw himself into the challenges with gusto, fueled by a desire to impress you and the rest of the group.

"Whoa, look at Minho go! He's on fire today." Felix exclaimed, amazed by Minho's focus.

"I've never seen him this focused before," Hyunjin added, nodding in agreement.

"He's really giving it his all," Chanbin chimed in, impressed by Minho's dedication.

By the end of the class, Minho had surpassed all expectations, leaving everyone astounded by his remarkable progress. As the applause filled the room, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for Minho and his incredible achievement. His determination to impress you had not gone unnoticed, and you were filled with admiration for his unwavering commitment to growth and self-improvement.

As the English class with Stray Kids drew to a close, you bid farewell to each member with a warm smile and words of encouragement. The energy of the competition still lingered in the air, filling the room with excitement and camaraderie.

"Great job today, everyone! See you next time." you called out, your voice brimming with genuine pride and affection.

As the members began to file out of the classroom, you turned your attention to the scattered books and materials on the desks. With a sigh, you began the task of organizing the mess, your focus solely on restoring order to the room.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice Minho lingering behind, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of admiration and something deeper. He watched as you worked diligently, your movements graceful and purposeful.

"Let me help you." Minho's voice broke through the silence, his words soft and sincere as he extended his hands to assist you with the books.

Startled, you looked up, your eyes meeting Minho's with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. You hadn't expected him to stay behind, let alone offer to help you.

"Thank you." you replied, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you handed him a stack of books. As your hands brushed against each other, a jolt of electricity coursed through both of you.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you shared a fleeting yet electrifying connection. In that instant, the world around you faded away, leaving only the gentle flutter of your hearts echoing in the silence.

As you worked together in comfortable silence, the warmth of your shared presence enveloped you, creating a sense of intimacy and connection that transcended words.

As you worked together to tidy up the classroom, Minho broke the silence with a soft voice filled with genuine warmth and gratitude.

"You know, [Your Name], I just wanted to say... I felt amazing with my English today," Minho confessed, his eyes shining with a sense of accomplishment.

You turned to him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you listened to his heartfelt words.

"That's wonderful to hear, Minho," you replied, your voice filled with genuine happiness for him. "You did an incredible job today."

Minho's smile widened, a sense of pride radiating from him as he reflected on his progress. "And I just wanted to say how happy I am to have you as my teacher. Your support and encouragement mean a lot to me."

Your heart swelled with warmth at Minho's heartfelt words. You had seen his dedication and determination firsthand, and knowing that you had played a part in his journey filled you with a sense of fulfillment.

"Thank you, Minho," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "It's a pleasure to teach you, and I'm so proud of how far you've come."

As the final touches were made to organize the classroom, a comfortable silence settled between you and Minho. With everything in order, you walked over to your desk to gather your belongings, signaling the end of another successful class.

Minho, having said his goodbyes, turned around to face you, his expression holding a hint of hesitation. The atmosphere shifted subtly as he began to speak, his words carrying a genuine sincerity.

"Actually... I know this might not be appropriate because of our student/teacher relation, but... hmm... you look stunning. You even made me feel shy," Minho admitted, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of admiration and a touch of bashfulness.

Your cheeks flushed with a combination of surprise and warmth at Minho's unexpected compliment. The sincerity in his words and the vulnerability in his demeanor created a moment that lingered in the air.

"Thank you, Minho," you replied with a genuine smile, appreciating the honesty and courage in his words. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's always nice to receive a compliment."

When Minho offers to help you with your bag, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him. Despite the lingering awareness of your student/teacher relationship, the genuine connection between you feels undeniable.

“Thank you, Minho. That would be wonderful,” you reply with a grateful smile, accepting his offer with genuine appreciation.

Together, you make your way to the basement where your car awaits. As you walk, Minho engages you in conversation, his genuine curiosity shining through.

“So, how’s Lino doing?” Minho asks, his voice filled with warmth as he inquires about your beloved cat. “I bet he misses you when you’re away.”

A smile tugs at your lips at the mention of Lino, your heart warmed by Minho’s genuine interest in your life outside of the classroom.

“He’s doing well, thank you for asking,” you reply, your voice soft with affection. “I miss him too when I’m away. He’s like family to me.”

As you reach your car, Minho gently hands your bag to you, his actions filled with a quiet sense of care and consideration.

“Thank you, Minho. I really appreciate your help,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude as you turn to face him.

“It’s my pleasure, [Your Name],” Minho replies, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sends a shiver down your spine.

As you settle your bag into the car, you turn to Minho with a warm smile. The connection between you feels palpable, the air tinged with unspoken sentiments.

“If you ever feel comfortable, Minho, you’re more than welcome to come over and see Lino whenever you want,” you offer, your words carrying a subtle invitation that extends beyond the realm of the feline companion.

Minho’s gaze meets yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. You both know that the mention of Lino is a mere pretext, a way to create an opportunity for you to spend time together outside the confines of the classroom.

“That sounds great, [Your Name]. I’d love to see Lino again,” Minho replies, his words holding a deeper resonance that hints at the shared understanding between you.

As you close the car door, there lingers a charged atmosphere, an acknowledgment of the unspoken connection that has blossomed between you. The invitation to visit Lino becomes a bridge, inviting Minho into your world in a way that goes beyond the boundaries of your official roles.

As you part ways, a sense of anticipation hangs in the air—a promise of shared moments yet to unfold, where the presence of Lino would be a mere backdrop to the deeper connection growing between you and Minho.

Couple days later, as you correct Minho’s homework during your extra class session, you can’t help but marvel at his progress. His determination and dedication to improving his English skills are evident in every assignment he completes.

Lost in your thoughts, you are surprised when Minho places a piece of paper on top of the question you are correcting. With a curious smile, you pick up the note and read the handwritten message in English, noticing a few adorable mistakes that only add to its charm.

The note, written with a touch of nervousness and sincerity, asks if you are free on Friday evening and if you’d like to watch a movie at your place. Minho’s excuse about missing your cat brings a smile to your face, knowing full well that he has three cats of his own at home.

Chuckling softly to yourself, you can’t deny the warmth that fills your heart at Minho’s sweet gesture. With a pen in hand, you write a response on the back of the note, asking him what he would like to have for dinner on Friday evening.

As you hand the note back to Minho, your eyes meet, and a shared understanding passes between you. In that moment, you feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the upcoming Friday evening—a chance to spend time with Minho outside the confines of the classroom, where your shared connection could blossom in the comfort of familiarity and friendship.

As Minho receives your response to his note, he can't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. Your willingness to spend time with him outside of the classroom fills him with a sense of joy and warmth that he can't contain.

As he reads your reply, a smile spreads across his face, the corners of his lips lifting with genuine happiness. It's a chance for both of you to spend quality time together, to share a meal, and enjoy each other's company in a relaxed and comfortable setting.

"Can I cook for you?" Minho asks, his voice tinged with a hint of shyness as he meets your gaze.

Your eyes sparkle with warmth and affection as you look at him, your response filled with sincerity and kindness.

"Only if you let me help you,” you reply, your words carrying a sense of fondness.

With a nod and a smile, Minho accepts your offer, knowing that your movie night will be filled with laughter, good food, and the warmth of your growing bond. As you make plans for your evening together, Minho can't help but feel grateful for the chance to spend time with someone as special as you, and he looks forward to creating memories that you'll cherish for years to come.

As the days pass leading up to the supposed movie night with you, Minho finds himself on the receiving end of relentless teasing from the members of Stray Kids. It seems that his attempt to keep his plans a secret has failed miserably, much to his dismay.

Chanbin: "Ooh, Minho's got a hot date!"

Felix: "What movie are you gonna watch, Minho? Romantic comedy or action-packed thriller?"

Hyunjin: "Don't forget the popcorn and tissues, Minho. It's gonna be a tearjerker!"

The teasing only intensifies as the days go by, with each member finding new ways to poke fun at Minho's supposed date night. Despite his attempts to brush off their remarks with a good-natured smile, Minho can't help but feel a pang of embarrassment at the attention.

Han: "Minho, you better dress to impress!"

Seungmin: "Yeah, don't forget to bring flowers!"

I.N: "And make sure you don't spill the popcorn all over her!"

With each passing comment, Minho's cheeks flush with embarrassment, his attempts to deflect their teasing met with little success. It seems that the members of Stray Kids are determined to make sure he doesn't live down his supposed date night anytime soon.

Despite the embarrassment, Minho can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his friends' playful banter. Their teasing may be relentless, but it's also a reminder of the close bond they share—a bond that brings laughter and joy to even the most embarrassing moments. And as the days pass, Minho finds himself looking forward to his movie night with you, knowing that even if the members of Stray Kids continue to tease him mercilessly, he'll always have their support and friendship to fall back on.

The day of the much-anticipated movie night with Minho arrives, and you can't contain the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Despite your efforts to maintain composure, the excitement and anticipation bubble within you, manifesting in a flurry of nervous gestures and rapid thoughts.

After much deliberation, you settle on a more casual and comfortable outfit for the evening—a simple yet stylish ensemble that exudes effortless charm. As you stand before the mirror, adjusting your attire and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes through the apartment.

Heart pounding with anticipation, you hurry to the door, your pulse quickening with each step. With trembling hands, you turn the doorknob and swing the door open, your eyes widening in surprise and delight at the sight before you.

There stands Minho, resplendent in a casual yet impeccably stylish outfit that perfectly complements his features. His warm smile illuminates his face as he holds out a small bouquet of white lilies—the very flowers you mentioned months ago in one of your classes.

Speechless with astonishment and gratitude, you can hardly believe your eyes. The gesture is thoughtful and heartfelt, a testament to the depth of Minho's kindness and consideration.

"Oh, Minho... I can't believe you remembered," you exclaim, your voice filled with genuine emotion as you accept the bouquet with trembling hands.

Minho's smile widens at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity. "I wanted tonight to be special," he replies, his words carrying a sincerity that touches you to the core.

In that moment, as you stand together in the doorway, the weight of your shared connection hangs heavy in the air. It's a gesture of thoughtfulness and affection that speaks volumes, a silent promise of the memories yet to be made and the bond that will only grow stronger with time.

With a grateful smile, you step aside, inviting Minho into your home and into your heart. As you embark on your movie night together, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the moments yet to come—a night filled with laughter, companionship, and the blossoming of something beautiful between you.

As Minho stepped into [Your Name]'s cozy apartment, he was greeted by the enthusiastic welcome of Lino, who came running towards him with a playful meow, rubbing himself against Minho's legs.

Minho chuckled at Lino's antics, reaching down to scratch the cat behind the ears. "Hey there, buddy. Looks like we're already becoming fast friends," he remarked, his voice filled with amusement.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Minho bonding with Lino. "He definitely likes you more than me," you quipped, a hint of playful sarcasm in your tone.

Minho laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Seems like it," he replied, his attention momentarily diverted by the playful antics of the furry feline.

Meanwhile, you headed to the kitchen to find a water vase for the bouquet of white lilies Minho had brought. As you rummaged through the cabinets, Minho took a moment to glance around the small apartment, his curiosity piqued by the glimpses of your personality scattered throughout the space.

The apartment was a reflection of you and your unique style, filled with charming décor and personal touches that spoke volumes about your interests and passions. From the vintage photographs adorning the walls to the eclectic mix of furniture, every corner of the apartment exuded warmth and character.

In the background, the soulful strains of blues music filled the air, adding a touch of ambiance to the cozy atmosphere. Minho couldn't help but nod his head to the rhythm, appreciating the soothing melody that filled the room.

You returned from the kitchen, a water vase in hand, and placed the lilies on the small dining table. "There we go, a perfect spot for them," you remarked, a smile of satisfaction gracing your lips as you admired the bouquet.

Minho nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on the delicate flowers. "They look beautiful," he commented, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

As the evening unfolded in your cozy apartment, the aroma of freshly cut lilies mingled with the savory scents wafting from the kitchen, filling the air with a tantalizing promise of the meal to come.

Turning to Minho with a warm smile, you inquired, "Are you hungry? I can whip up something simple if you'd like."

Minho's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he followed you into the kitchen, his curiosity piqued by the array of cooking equipment adorning the countertops.

To his surprise, the kitchen was a treasure trove of culinary delights, stocked with an impressive array of pots, pans, and utensils—a testament to your love for cooking.

"You have quite the collection here," Minho remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he surveyed the assortment of cooking tools.

You grinned, a glimmer of pride in your eyes. "I love to cook," you admitted, your voice tinged with enthusiasm. "It's one of my favorite hobbies."

As you two set to work preparing the ingredients for your meal, Minho found himself drawn to your infectious energy and passion for cooking. With each passing moment, your laughter filled the air, mingling with the sound of sizzling vegetables and bubbling pots.

In a playful gesture, Minho deliberately brushed his hand against yours whenever the opportunity arose, savoring the fleeting connection between you.

But it was when you suggested you cut the vegetables together that Minho's heart skipped a beat. As you stood side by side at the kitchen counter, Minho felt a surge of warmth and affection wash over him.

With a gentle smile, Minho wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your hands intertwined as you guided the knife through the crisp vegetables, your movements synchronized in perfect harmony.

As you continued to cook together, your laughter echoed through the kitchen, filling the air with a sense of joy and companionship that neither of you could deny. And in that shared moment of togetherness, Minho and you knew that you had found something special.

As the aroma of your culinary creation fills the air, you and Minho step back from the stove, your shared masterpiece laid out before you. With a sense of accomplishment and anticipation, you set about preparing the table for your meal.

Minho's hands move with purpose as he arranges the plates and utensils, his movements deliberate yet filled with a subtle grace. With each placement, he ensures that your seats are positioned side by side, a silent invitation for closeness and companionship.

You couldn't help but notice Minho's thoughtful gestures, the unspoken warmth and affection evident in his actions. As you settle into your seats, the table bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, you feel a sense of gratitude for the growing bond between you.

As you begin to enjoy your meal, you feel a surge of warmth and affection for Minho, a desire to share the joy of your culinary creation with him in a more intimate way.

"Minho," you call softly, your voice filled with tenderness and warmth, "try this dish. It's one of my favorites."

With a gentle smile, you offer Minho a spoonful of the delicious food, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. As he accepts the bite, your fingers brush against each other in a fleeting yet electrifying touch, sending a jolt of warmth coursing through both of you.

Minho savors the flavors, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and affection. In that moment, as you share a meal together, your connection deepens, your hearts entwined in a silent dance of possibility and hope.

In the soft glow of candlelight, as you share the remnants of your meal and the warmth of each other's company, you and Minho find yourselves engaged in an intimate dialogue, each revelation deepening the connection between you.

"You know, Minho, I've always admired your passion for dance," you begin, your voice soft with admiration. "It's incredible how you express yourself through movement."

A gentle smile graces Minho's lips, his eyes alight with appreciation. "Thank you, [Your Name]. Dance has always been my way of connecting with the world, of expressing emotions that words alone can't capture."

As you exchange stories and share moments, you can't help but feel a sense of wonder at Minho's dedication to his craft, his commitment to his art shining through in every word.

"And you, [Your Name], your love for books—it's truly inspiring," Minho remarks, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "The way you talk about literature, about the worlds and characters within those pages, it's like you're sharing a piece of your soul with me."

You smile, touched by Minho's words. "Books have always been my sanctuary, my escape into other worlds," you admit, your eyes shining with passion. "There's something magical about losing yourself in the pages of a good book."

As you continue to share your passions and discoveries, you find common ground in unexpected places—a shared love of picnics beneath the open sky, the simple joy of being at home in the company of your beloved cats.

"I've always loved picnics," Minho confesses, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "There's something so liberating about being outdoors, surrounded by nature's beauty."

You nod in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "I couldn't agree more. There's a sense of peace and tranquility that comes with being out in nature, away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life."

In that moment, as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, you and Minho discover a world of shared interests and passions—a world where your hearts can intertwine and your souls can soar.

As the soft strains of your favorite slow song fill the air, a sense of warmth and familiarity envelops the room, casting a spell of enchantment over the evening.

Caught up in the melody, you find yourself humming along, the gentle rhythm stirring memories and emotions within your soul. Across the room, Minho's eyes light up with recognition, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he catches the familiar tune.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Minho rises from his seat, extending a hand towards you with a silent invitation to dance. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his voice soft with warmth and affection.

You chuckle softly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone. "I don't know how to dance," you admit, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

But Minho's smile remains unwavering, his gaze filled with unwavering determination. "Then let me teach you," he replies, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "Just like you taught me English."

With a mixture of trepidation and excitement, you place your hand in Minho's, allowing him to lead you to the center of the room. As you begin to sway to the gentle rhythm of the music, Minho guides you with grace and patience, his movements fluid and effortless.

With each step, each gentle turn, you feel yourself surrendering to the music, to the warmth of Minho's embrace. In his arms, you find a sense of security and belonging, a place where your fears and insecurities melt away.

As you dance, your laughter mingles with the music, filling the air with a sense of joy and companionship. In that intimate moment, you realize that dancing isn't just about following the steps—it's about surrendering to the rhythm of the heart, about embracing the beauty of the moment and the connection shared between two souls.

In the hushed embrace of the evening, as you and Minho sway gently to the rhythm of the music, a sense of serenity settles over you like a comforting blanket. In the soft glow of candlelight, your eyes meet, the warmth of your gaze speaking volumes of the unspoken bond between you.

As the music fades into the background, a comfortable silence envelops you, the air tinged with anticipation and longing. In that fleeting moment, Minho's voice breaks the silence, a whisper so soft it is almost lost amidst the gentle cadence of the night.

"May I?" he breathes, his words barely audible yet filled with an unmistakable yearning.

Your heart flutters at his question, your smile a reflection of the affection that fills your soul. With a nod and a smile, you whisper back, your voice barely a whisper yet resonating with the depth of your emotions.

"Please," you reply, your heart racing with anticipation.

In that tender moment, Minho closes the distance between you, his touch as gentle as a summer breeze. With a tenderness that speaks of a thousand unspoken words, he presses his lips against yours, a sweet caress that ignites a spark within your souls.

In that stolen moment of intimacy, time seems to stand still as you lose yourselves in the sweetness of the kiss. In Minho's embrace, you feel a sense of belonging, a connection that transcends words and speaks directly to the depths of your heart.

As the evening unfolds in the warmth of your apartment, filled with laughter, shared moments, and tender embraces, the movie you had planned to watch fades into the background, forgotten amidst the magic of your connection.

198 notes · View notes

writetheidea · 29 days ago

Text

Shadows of the past - happy ending

Hello, You are now reading the happy ending of this fan fiction. If you haven’t read the previous parts, I recommend you do so in order to understand the context. The song “Shrike” by Hozier was involved in the writing process of this part. Many songs by Hozier were involved.

Part 1 || Part 2 |||| Sad ending

Word count: 2013

The confrontation with his family was inevitable. His parents had always meant well, but they were so attached to the idea of him and Lily that they never fully accepted Mia. And now, Oscar was starting to see just how much their subtle comparisons had contributed to the rift between him and Mia.

They were sitting around the kitchen table when Nicole brought it up again. “I spoke to Lily the other day,” she said casually, as if it were normal to keep so closely in touch with his ex-girlfriend after all these years. “She said she’s thinking about coming to one of your races again soon.”

Oscar’s chest tightened. He set his coffee mug down, the clink of the ceramic sounding too loud in the suddenly tense room. “Mum, why do you keep bringing her up?” he asked, his voice strained.

Nicole blinked in surprise. “Well, she’s kept being supportive of your career, darling. I thought you’d like to know.”

“I don’t need to know,” Oscar replied, his voice growing sharper. “Mia didn’t need to know. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for her, hearing you talk about Lily all the time? You keep treating Mia like she’s not enough for me—like she’s not part of this family.”

His father frowned. “Oscar, that’s not fair. We’ve never said anything bad about Mia.”

“You didn’t have to,” Oscar shot back. “It’s not about what you’re saying—it’s about what you’re talking about. You constantly bring up Lily, and it’s like you’re waiting for me to go back to her. You act like Mia is just temporary, like she doesn’t matter as much.”

Nicole’s face softened with guilt. “Oscar, we didn’t mean it that way. We just—Lily was a big part of your life for so long, and we still care about her. But we like Mia too.”

“Then act like it,” Oscar said, his voice thick with frustration. “Because Mia’s gone now. She left me, and part of it is because of how you made her feel. She felt like she was always competing with Lily, and it broke her. And I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

Nicole’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Oscar. I had no idea.”

“I didn’t either,” Oscar admitted, his voice softer now. “I should’ve stood up for her more. I should’ve made it clear that she was my choice, and I didn’t. But I’m telling you now—I love her. And I need you to accept that, completely, if I’m ever going to be able to get her back.”

His mother reached out, placing her hand on his. “We’ll do better, Oscar. I promise. If—When Mia comes back... we’ll show her that she’s part of this family. Truly.”

Oscar nodded, but the weight of the situation still pressed down on him. He had a lot to make up for, not just his family. And he wasn’t sure if an apology would be enough to fix everything that had been broken.

---

It was a few days later when Oscar found himself face-to-face with Lily. They had run into each other at an event for one of his sponsors.

“Oscar!” Lily greeted him with a bright smile, her blonde hair swept elegantly over her shoulder. She looked just like she always had—polished, put together, the perfect image of the life he had once imagined for himself. But standing there, looking at her, Oscar realized how far removed he felt from that version of himself.

“Lily,” he said, his tone polite but distant.

They exchanged pleasantries, talking about the races and how things had been going for them. But Lily, perceptive as always, noticed something was off.

“I heard about you and Mia,” she said after a while, her voice gentle. “I’m sorry, Oscar. I always thought you two were really great together.”

Oscar swallowed, the mention of Mia making his chest tighten with guilt and longing. “We were,” he said quietly. “But I messed things up.”

Lily gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s not easy, balancing everything—family, relationships, your career. I would know firsthand. But Mia seemed like the type to understand that.”

“She is,” Oscar agreed. “But I didn’t give her the support she deserved. I let my family’s feelings get in the way, and I didn’t stand up for her when I should have.”

Lily nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “You know, Oscar, you and I... we had a good. But it’s clear you’ve grown since then. You’re not the same person you were when we were together.”

Oscar looked at her, surprised by her words. “I guess I have.”

“And Mia... she’s the one you want to be with, isn’t she?”

Oscar didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. She is.”

Lily smiled softly. “Then fight for her. Don’t let the past hold you back from what you really want now.”

Oscar nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew what he had to do.

---

Oscar stood outside Mia’s apartment, his heart racing in his chest. He had spent the last few days going over everything in his head—what he needed to say, how he needed to make things right. He had spoken to his family, seen Lily, and now he was ready. Ready to fight for Mia, for the future he wanted with her.

When Mia opened the door, she looked surprised to see him. She looked tired, like the weight of their separation had been as hard on her as it had been on him.

“Oscar,” she said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding, before stepping into the familiar warmth of her apartment. Everything felt the same, but different. There was a tension in the air, a distance that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m sorry, Mia,” Oscar said, his voice breaking the silence. “I’m so sorry for everything. For not standing up for you. For not realizing how much my family’s words and actions were hurting you.”

Mia’s eyes softened, but she remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“I let you down,” Oscar continued, his voice heavy with emotion. “I didn’t see how much you were struggling, how much you were giving up to be with me. And I took you for granted. But I see it now. And I’ll never let that happen again.”

Mia swallowed hard, her eyes filling with unshed tears. “Oscar, it wasn’t just you. I should have spoken up sooner. I should have told you how much it was affecting me. But I didn’t, because I was scared.”

Oscar stepped closer, his heart breaking at the sight of her pain. “I know I can’t undo the hurt I’ve caused. But I want to make it right. I want to fight for us, Mia. I love you. And I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make you feel like you’re the only one who matters.”

Tears spilled over Mia’s cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly, her breath catching in her throat. “I love you too, Oscar,” she whispered. “But... I’m scared. I don’t want to go back to feeling like I’m not enough.”

“You *are* enough,” Oscar said firmly, stepping even closer. “You’ve always been enough. And I’ve spoken to my family. They know how much you mean to me, and they’ve promised to change. I won’t let them—or anyone—make you feel like you’re second best ever again.”

Mia looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for the truth in his words. And when she saw the sincerity there, something shifted in her expression. The walls she had built around herself began to crack, just enough for hope to seep through.

“Oscar,” she whispered, her voice exposing her fragility. “I don’t want to lose you. I never did. But I need to know that this is real. That you’re really ready to put us first.”

Oscar reached out, gently taking Mia’s hands in his, his grip firm but tender. “I am, Mia. I’m ready to put us first—above everything. I’ve spent too much time focusing on things that don’t matter as much as you do. My family, the past, the pressure of everything… none of it matters if I don’t have you.”

Mia’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, they weren’t just tears of pain—they were tears of hope, of possibility. She let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of Oscar’s hands in hers, his gaze never wavering from her face.

“I want to believe you,” she whispered. “I want to believe that things will change, that you’ll fight for us. But it’s been so hard, Oscar. I felt like I was losing myself.”

Oscar’s heart ached at her words, the regret of all the times he hadn’t been there for her weighing heavily on him. He wished he could take it all back, all the moments he had been blind to her struggles. But there was no going back, only forward.

“I’m not perfect,” he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. “But I’m willing to try every single day to make sure you never feel that way again. I’m willing to learn, to listen, and to be the partner you deserve.”

Mia closed her eyes for a moment, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. She had spent so long feeling like she wasn’t enough, like she didn’t belong in Oscar’s life. But now, hearing his words, feeling the sincerity behind them, a part of her wanted to believe that maybe things could be different.

Oscar took a step closer, closing the small distance between them. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “And I’ll prove it to you every day, if you’ll give me the chance.”

Mia’s heart raced in her chest as she opened her eyes and looked up at him. For so long, she had felt like she was standing on the outside, looking in. But in this moment, with Oscar standing in front of her, raw and vulnerable, she felt something stir inside her. Something that told her maybe, just maybe, they could make it work.

“I love you too,” Mia whispered, her voice trembling. “I never stopped. I just… I just didn’t know how to keep going when it felt like I was always going to be second.”

“You’re not second,” Oscar said firmly, pulling her into his arms. “You’ve never been second, Mia. Not in my heart, not in my life. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you know that.”

Mia’s heart swelled at his words, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like they might actually have a chance. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that everything would be perfect from here on out. They still had work to do—on themselves, on their relationship—but for the first time in months, she felt like they were both willing to fight for it.

“I need time,” Mia said softly, her voice filled with vulnerability. “I need to take things slow. I don’t want to rush back into things and end up hurt again.”

Oscar nodded, understanding in his eyes. “We’ll take it as slow as you need,” he promised. “I just want to be with you. We’ll figure it out together.”

Mia smiled, and Oscar’s heart lifted at the sight. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed seeing her smile, how much it had hurt him to see her lose her spark. But now, standing here with her, he felt like they were finally on the right path.

“I’ve missed you,” Mia whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“I’ve missed you too,” Oscar replied, his arms tightening around her. “More than you know.”

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them now filled with the warmth of hope. It wouldn’t be easy, Oscar knew that. They still had challenges to face, wounds to heal. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like they had a real chance at making it work.

162 notes · View notes