#Like I went through a really inspired stage (Who is she; I know) where I ended up with 20+ fics and I’m still trying to post them all…

[uniquexusposts]

But I am Lando Norris | L. Norris

Summary: Lando Norris went to a random concert and ended up seeing his childhood neighbour on stage. What would he do to see her again after all those years? Words: 2.619 A/n: I got the inspiration after seeing Tom Odell and Billie Eilish at their concert :)

The venue was filled with many people. A lot of people. Something Lando hadn’t really expected, for some reason, but it was very real. 20.000 people in this stadium. All for Your artist name (Y/a/n). Everything in the stadium was louder than expected. 

It wasn’t chaotic, not yet, but there was a humming with that kind of pre-show tension that made everyone talk louder than usual, laugh sharper, sing along with the background music, scroll their phones more nervously, as if trying to pass the time before something important dropped. And to many, something important would happen. The opening act had just finished.

Lando tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and scanned the crowd beneath and next to him, from where he stood near the VIP lounge entrance. His friends had disappeared a few minutes ago, getting drinks or merch or whatever else people would do before a show like this. He had said he would wait here. He didn’t mind it. 

He wasn’t even really sure why he had said yes to coming. His friend had offered the spare ticket with zero pressure, and he had said ‘why not’ like it meant nothing. He hadn’t expected anything, they said it was just a show of an artist, just music, good music, and maybe some songs he would vaguely recognise. 

And then he had seen the name on the poster when arriving. 

Y/a/n. Just that. Stylised. Sharp. Backlit in white. 

He remembered seeing it and pausing, only for a second. Enough to think, Huh. That’s wild. Because even if she went by something different now, even if her look had changed, he knew who she was.

They had grown up on the same street. Played in the same games with the same kids outside. Played football, hide and seek, ring and run. Things kids would do when playing outside. They had never been close, just part of the blut of childhood. And then one day, after going to high school, the entire group stopped meeting up. 

Lando exhaled slowly and glanced over the crowd. Y/a/n had a massive fanbase, she had so many hits, the tickets to her tour were sold out quickly. People would camp a week before her show to get the best seats. People were standing outside without a ticket, hoping someone would give up a ticket to still give them a chance to see Y/a/n. 

He ran a hand through his hair, then followed the others inside. They took a seat on their designated seats. 

Max nudged him. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”

“I’m not,” Lando said, almost absently. “She just… grew up in my neighbourhood.”

Max blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. We used to play outside with the same group of kids.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “That’s it.”

And then the lights went out.

A breathless silence fell like a wave, followed by a sudden scream from the crowd. Somewhere beneath it all, a low, pulsing synth began to rise, slow, haunting, magnetic. Lando sat up straighter. He hadn’t expected much. But the moment the music hit, the first note, the sudden bloom of lights, something shifted.

The screen behind the stage flickered to life, abstract visuals in grayscale, like static breaking into water, and the bass deepened, vibrating in Lando’s chest. Then, through the smoke and fractured light, she appeared.

Y/a/n. 

Y/n L/n from house number 47. 

It wasn’t just the way she stood there, still, centred, not saying a word, but the way the entire arena reacted on her presence. She wore something simple, red, almost careless, yet very stylish, but held herself like gravity had shifted in her favour. The crowd roared. She didn’t flinch.

Lando forgot to blink.

It was her. Of course it was her, her voice was on every radio, her face was on every screen. But this was different. This was now. And the shy girl, who used to kick gravel down their street had turned into a phenomenon.

And when she began to sing, the crowd was screaming the lyrics along. They knew every single word. She moved energetically along the stage, waved every now and then to the crowd. It was like a bomb with energy exploded in the stadium. 

Lando didn’t hear the lyrics.

He only watched her. The way she moved with purpose but without effort. The way the crowd swayed like she was pulling every string.

His friends were cheering. Someone bumped into his arm. But Lando didn’t move. He wasn’t starstruck, it wasn’t that. He just suddenly couldn’t believe that someone like her had been standing five feet away from him all those summers ago, barefoot and shy and loud and ordinary.

And now?

Now she looked like a storm that had learned how to sing.

-

The crowd screamed, clapped, their cheers nearly drowning out the music when Y/a/n walked around the stage to wave at her crowd for the last time. Lando stood, clapping along, but it was automatic. He didn’t feel the rush of excitement everyone else was experiencing. He was still lost in the haze of that last moment.

His mind was still back at the moment she had stepped on stage, her presence a magnet. His heart wasn’t pounding, it wasn’t nerves, but something deeper, quieter. A magnetic pull he couldn’t explain.

Max slapped him on the back. “She was incredible, huh?”

Lando nodded, eyes still on the stage as the lights began to fade, her presence fading away as she got off the stage. “Yeah. Incredible.” His words felt empty compared to what he was actually feeling, but he couldn’t find the right ones. Incredible didn’t even begin to cover it.

The crowd slowly began to spill out of the stands, but Lando wasn’t moving. His friends were already heading toward the exit, chatting about the encore and how they could grab drinks after. But Lando’s feet stayed planted.

How could she be that powerful?

He scanned the stage one last time, searching for any sign of her, his heart still racing despite the calm exterior. There was a stir in the air, a buzz of people rushing behind the scenes, a mix of crew, security, and the last few fans who were hoping for a glimpse.

He didn’t think, he just acted.

Lando got up and he walked towards one of the doors that said ‘backstage, staff only’. He could hear the excitement of all the fans, many were screaming, crying and almost hyperventilating. Some recognised him, but they were still processing the moments they had with their favourite artist. His pulse was fast, not from adrenaline but something else entirely, something raw and uncertain. He couldn’t explain it, but the need to see her, just for a second, had overtaken him.

By the time he reached the backstage entrance, a security guard stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Can I help you?” the guard asked, arms crossed, his gaze unimpressed.

Lando swallowed, trying to push away the uncertainty that suddenly hit him. “I… I just need to talk to her. Y/n. Is she still here?”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “You a friend?”

Lando hesitated for a beat too long, the weight of his own words feeling heavier now. “Yeah. I grew up with her. We-”

The guard didn’t even let him finish. “And I grew up with the King. You can turn around and go home.”

Lando bit back a frustrated sigh. He glanced at the exit, hoping for a glimpse. But he knew that wasn’t enough. He wasn’t going to leave this night like that. Not after what he had just seen. “Do you have any idea when she’ll be available?” he asked, his voice steady but urgent now. “I don’t want to take up much time. Just a quick conversation.”

The guard looked him over again, as if debating whether or not he should let him through. He squinted his eyes. “You know, mate, we can do it the friendly way or the difficult way. There’s a reason why I am here. And you should know all about it. We can’t give everybody access to their favourite person. You would not like it too.” 

“No, I fully understand,” Lando sighed. He couldn’t leave, not yet. He had to see her again. “But how can I see her? This is personal. And as you said, I know all about it. So why would I disturb her for no reason?”

The guard didn’t budge, still eyeing him with skepticism. The silence between them stretched for a moment, the background noise of the crowd's excitement humming in the distance. Lando could feel his patience wearing thin, but he knew he had to stay calm. He couldn't risk losing his chance.

Finally, the guard spoke again, his voice softer, though still guarded. “Alright, mate. Here’s the deal. She’s not going to have time for some random fan to chat her up after the show, even if you used to play football with her as a kid-“

“But I am Lando Norris,” Lando said, throwing out a card he hated. 

“And I am Leo Samson, nice to meet you. I can’t make exceptions. Stop the debate, it’s not going to happen-“

“But I’m not a random fan,” Lando cut in, sharply but not unkind. “I’m not trying to take a picture or get an autograph. I’m not even here for her music, well, I am now, I guess. But I didn’t come here because she’s famous.”

The guard’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I came here because I recognised the name on the poster,” Lando continued. “Because I remember her before all of this. Before the crowds and the lights and the sold-out stadiums. I just... I saw her tonight and I remembered who she was. And she probably doesn’t even remember me, but I would hate myself if I didn’t try to say hi. That’s it.” He let the silence settle again. “I’m not trying to cross any lines,” he added quietly. “But if I walked away right now, I think I would regret it. For a long time.”

The guard studied him. Really studied him. Then finally, he huffed a breath through his nose and reached for his microphone that was connected to his transceiver. “I’ve got Lando Norris coming through for Y/n L/n. It’s alright.” He stepped aside and opened the door. “Don’t do weird things, mate. I will find you.”

A relieved smile came on Lando’s face. “I will, thanks.” 

“Someone will bring you to her.”  

Lando gave the guard a quick, grateful nod, then stepped through the doorway, the heavy sound of the door closing behind him like a shift in atmosphere. The hallway he entered was quieter than the rest of the venue, cooler, dimmer, like the pulse of the show had finally exhaled back here.

Someone, one of the backstage crew, was already waiting. She didn’t ask questions, just gave him a glance, then motioned with her head for him to follow. They walked down a corridor lined with industrial pipes and faded posters from past shows. He could still hear the crowd outside, but it was muted now, distant. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say when he saw her. He wasn’t even sure she would want to see him. But the idea of not trying had been worse.

He turned the corner, and there she was.

Y/n was walking down the hall toward him, alone, her hair damp from the show, her outfit stuck to her skin due to the sweat. Her head was down, scrolling her phone. She looked so normal like this. So real. The stadium version of her was still echoing in his mind, but this, this was the part he had been desperate to see.

She looked up.

Stopped.

He froze too.

“…Lando?”

Her voice was cautious, halfway between recognition and disbelief.

He exhaled a laugh, barely a breath. “Hey.”

Y/n blinked like she was trying to make sense of him standing there. “What are you… how did you..?”

“I saw your name on the poster,” he said. “Didn’t believe it at first. Then I saw you tonight and I-” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly unsure of everything he had rehearsed in his head. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”

She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him. Really looked.

He stepped closer, slowly, not wanting to spook her, not wanting to mess it up. “You probably don’t remember me.”

Her brows rose. “Of course I remember you. You’re the reason I almost broke my arm falling out of the neighbour’s tree. And the reason I never touched Capri-Sun again.”

He laughed, a little dazed. “You threw it at my head. Deserved, for the record.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and for a second, the years between them shrank. “I didn’t know you were into concerts,” she said.

“I’m not, really.” He shrugged. “But apparently I’m into you.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, a quiet spark lighting behind them.

Lando cleared his throat, suddenly nervous again. “I just… I didn’t want this to be one of those things where I remembered someone forever and never told them they meant something to me. Even if you didn’t remember me.”

Y/n looked at him, soft now. “Well… I do.”

They stood in the hallway, just looking at each other, while the world outside buzzed and pulsed with the afterglow of her performance.

Lando let out a breath, eyes still on her like she might disappear if he blinked. “I don’t even know where to start,” he said, a little breathless. “You were… insane tonight. In the best way. Like… I don’t think I’ve ever been in a crowd that loud before. And I’ve stood on podiums, but this? You had everyone wrapped around your finger.”

Y/n flushed slightly, the way an older neighbour made a comment about them playing on the road. “I mean, F1 podiums are something different, huh?” She smiled. “And I mean, it’s kind of surreal, still. Even after all this time.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Lando said. “You’re meant for this. I don’t know how I didn’t see it back then. You were always singing, always messing around with lyrics or humming something under your breath. I guess I just thought everyone had something like that.”

She smiled again, the kind of smile that carried a hundred memories. “Most people grow out of it.”

“But you didn’t.” His voice was quiet now, sincere. “You built a world out of it.”

Y/n looked down at her hands for a second. “It wasn’t easy. Still isn’t.”

“I can imagine,” Lando said. “But tonight… God, Y/n, you were like this force. You had everyone screaming one minute, dead silent the next. It was electric.”

Y/n’s smile turned shy, like she didn’t know what to do with the praise. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.”

Lando shook his head. “I’m not saying this as the Lando Norris, if you mean it like that. I’m saying it as some kid who used to race you down the street for ice cream and lost every time. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

The silence between them filled with warmth, a fragile but growing sense of something shifting.

“You always were terrible at running,” she murmured.

“And apparently, really good at recognising stars before they go supernova.”

That made her laugh. Really laugh. And Lando swore it sounded just like it used to.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[mononijikayu]

love means everything — ryomen sukuna.

“So, hey.” he said, voice dropping into that mellow drawl he only really used with you. “You always ask me what I’m doing in the off–season. You know, working out less, spoiling you more, trying to figure out the difference between a flat white and a cortado…” You laughed softly on the other end, and he smiled just hearing it. “But I never asked you. What about you, huh? What does your off-season look like, Starstuff–sensei?” You let out a breath, half a sigh, half a smile. “Off–season? You mean the mythical time when I’m not being held hostage by quantum models and satellite firmware?” He chuckled. “Yeah. That one. If it ever existed.”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Volleyball! AU;

Warning/s: General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Baby, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Volleyball Pro! Sukuna, Astrophysicist! Reader, Fiancee! Sukuna, Fiancee! Reader;

Words: 8k words.

Note: this was inspired by some clips ive seen from people talking about their spouses. and then you have me listening to coffee by bts??? yeah, it works out. anyway, i got home (after a disasterous time in the airport) and am able to write again!!! i hope you enjoy this one!!! i love you all <3

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OFF SEASON WAS ALSO A TIME TO WORK ON OTHER THINGS REGARDING HIS EVER GROWING FAME. That’s why he was told to come here, since people wanted to ask to interview him and want to know more about him, especially now since he just won a gold medal with his team in the Olympics. 

The studio was sun drenched, sleek and minimalist, dotted with tasteful awards and blown up stills from the magazine’s latest photoshoot. Ryomen Sukuna, Olympic gold medalist and captain of Japan’s national volleyball team, was dressed in a relaxed open-collar shirt and slacks. 

He was more toned down from the striking editorial wear he'd posed in just an hour ago, which he liked better than anything else. It’s not that the editorial wear was bad. He was just more comfortable with this sort of fit. He should take a picture, though. You’d enjoy it more than he does. 

Though the cameras continued to roll silently from then and now as he went and sat there, waiting for the interview to begin. The interviewer, who was smiling behind the camera, flipped to a page in their notes.

“Alright, Sukuna–san.” The interviewer began, voice gentle and curious. “You’ve spoken about your post season training, your comeback for this upcoming national season, and your Olympic gold medal win on the international stage. But tell us a little about your off–season. What do you do when you’re not spiking balls into orbit?”

Sukuna chuckled, a lowly amused sound, one hand dragging lazily through his pink-tinted hair. “Honestly? Not much... At least, nothing glamorous. I like to be at home. I’m a homebody, more than people think. Just love being at home with my fiance and our dog Marin.”

“And what does home look like for you now? You recently got engaged, right?”

He smiled, really smiled this time and the camera caught the softening in his expression. “Yeah. I did. She’s a really smart astrophysicist.” he said, pride lacing his voice. “Which basically means her brain runs at the speed of light even when I’m still trying to find where I put my protein shaker in the morning.”

“She must be something then! But you must spend a lot with her during the off–season.” The interviewer laughed, prompting Sukuna to go on. 

“I mean, we both try to make sure we have time.” Sukuna retorts, smiling wider. “But of course, she also has work. I mean, off–season’s really when she gets busier. Her field doesn’t break, and they’ve got a pretty vital role where they work. So while I’m off the court, I’ve kind of made it my job to take care of everything at home. Make her comfortable when she gets home, y’know?”

“Oh? In what ways does an Olympic champion do that?”

“I got my barista license this past season. I just figured if I can read plays mid-air, I can learn how to make coffee right.”

The crew echoed quietly in awe behind the scenes. Ryomen Sukuna leaned forward a little, face warming at his revelation to all of them. The interviewer raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Sukuna’s revelation. 

“A barista license, huh? That’s impressive! But I’ve got to ask, Sukuna–san. What else do you do to take care of her when she’s so busy?”

Sukuna chuckled, leaning back slightly in his chair, his demeanor relaxed but there was an underlying warmth in his eyes that couldn’t be overlooked. He was surely thinking about you right now with all he could.

“Well, like I said, she’s got this crazy demanding job.” Sukuna starts to say. “I know how it feels to be locked into something you love, where you don’t even notice the hours passing. So when she gets home, I try to make it feel like a break. I keep the house cozy, cook meals, set things up so she can just unwind without having to think about anything else.”

The interviewer nodded, clearly impressed by his thoughtfulness. “That sounds so sweet. You really seem to know what she needs.”

Sukuna smiled wider, a rare, genuine expression that softened his usual fierce persona. “I do. I pay attention. She doesn’t ask for much. Just a quiet space, a hot meal, and good coffee.” He grinned mischievously. “Oh, and sometimes I throw in a bit of flirting to remind her I’m still the same guy who makes her laugh.”

The interviewer chuckled, but there was a twinkle of curiosity. “So, back to this coffee thing. Is it just a way to spoil her, or do you have a deeper connection to it?”

“Honestly?” Sukuna leaned in a little, his voice dropping a touch lower. “It’s a way for me to make sure she’s taking care of herself. The first time I made her coffee when we were teenagers, I realized how much she needed it.”

“Oh, wow! It’s been that long?”

“Yeah, we’ve been together for so long. And at that time, I realized that she didn’t just need it.” He continues to say, a smile on his face. “It’s not just about the caffeine for her or for me. It’s this small moment of peace in her day. And I don’t want her to go without that, even if it’s just for a few minutes. So I got serious about learning how to make it perfect.”

“That’s actually such dedication, Sukuna–san!” The interviewer reiterated back in awe of him. “Some courses take quite a long time and by your words, it must have taken some time. You did it during the off season? Shouldn’t you be taking care of your health then, since you have to be training soon after that?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But that wasn’t anything too big of a big deal. There was a training course a few blocks away from home. I did it after my run and my training sessions. It wasn’t too bad. Just a few weeks.”

The interviewer’s eyes widened, clearly taken by how deeply Sukuna had thought about this. “That’s really thoughtful.”

“So now, every morning, no matter how early, I make breakfast. And coffee.” Sukuna laughs. "I don’t let my baby go without it. Even if it’s 4 a.m. and she’s still running numbers or checking satellite data or whatever astrophysicists do.” 

He grinned again, eyes glinting with something boyish. “She’ll say she doesn't need it, but she’ll always finish the whole cup. Then she’ll ask for more. I know how she likes it. No measurements anymore. I just know it by memory.”

“That’s a bold statement to make, Sukuna–san. It’s hard to cook by memory most of the time, without measurements.” The interviewer teased. 

There was a pause, the room a little quieter as his words settled. Sukuna shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “It was a challenge, but I liked it. She does so much for me and the world. I really should pull my weight as a man, you know?”

“I bet she loves that. To have someone to rely on like that, with such a busy lifestyle.”

“She does! Even if she pouts, and never admits it. I can see it in her face.” He lets out a hearty laugh. “It’s the best part of my day, everyday. Where I can just love her right with the ways that I can do it. She’s always worth it.”

The interviewer gave a dreamy sigh, clearly smitten with the answer. “That’s… kind of perfect. Wish all men were like that.”

“I wish the same for all women out there, wait, cut that. Everyone deserves to be loved like that.” Sukuna says, scarlet eyes narrowing slightly serious. “If your partners refuse to love you like that, leave them! They’re not worth your love!”

“Yeah, I agree with that!”

Sukuna shrugged, but there was no hiding the fond curve at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t play about my girl, you know? I just love her so much.” he said simply. “Even in the off-season, love shouldn’t stop for my baby.”

The camera zoomed in a little towards the man with eyes full of love. The camera in this moment was capturing the gold medalist not as the usual overconfident towering champion.

Instead, he was a man quietly in love, tending to his morning ritual and waiting for his favorite person to take their first sip. The interviewer leaned in, clearly enchanted by the quiet domesticity wrapped around the Olympic athlete’s words.

“Aside from becoming a full-fledged barista for your fiancé.” they said with a light chuckle. “What else do you like to do during your off-season?”

Ryomen Sukuna tilted his head for a moment, as if considering the question seriously, then answered with that casual confidence of his. “There’s quite a bit, actually. I mean, I play around with games and stuff like that. But I think that’s boring compared to what I do with my fiancé.”

“Your world revolves around your fiancé, no?”

“Happily so! We’ve been together since we were kids. I always do everything to make her smile. Like, I try to make date nights happen. Or, well, date moments.” he said, lifting two fingers in air quotes. “As I said, her schedule’s kind of brutal. Astrophysics isn’t exactly a nine-to-five thing.” 

The interviewer nodded, intrigued. “There are weeks where the only time she’s home is for like what?—an hour around lunch, since her office is near our home too. So I started planning what I call ‘thirty-minute date lunches.’”

A soft chorus of awws rippled through the crew. Sukuna grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. He talks about it as much as he doesn't. Yet when it comes to you, everything is love. Your love is everything, his love is everything. Showing it to you was no problem to him.

“I’ll cook something quick but good. Set the balcony table. Nothing fancy, just… nice. I’ll make her laugh, get her to forget orbital calculations or whatever hell equations she’s still wrangling about. We’ll eat, talk, and they’ll be gone again. But I think those little pockets of time matter.”

There was a pause. At least just enough to let that picture settle. “And on the rare days they do get time off?” he continued, voice a little quieter now. “I'll go all in. Reservations, walks, bookstores, rooftop stargazing. Whatever makes my baby smile.”

“That probably eases her feelings a lot, helps ground her back to earth.”  The interviewer points out. “With such a demanding job, its meaningful to do something like this.”

Sukuna grins as he nods. “Yeah, it means a lot. But sometimes, space works too. She loves that stuff. Sometimes I’ll rent out this tiny planetarium near the research institute if it’s really been a rough week. Just for us. She’ll get to look up and talk about stars without worrying about the math behind it.”

The room fell silent, even the assistant with the clipboard frozen mid-scribble. The interviewer blinked, mouth parted like they’d briefly forgotten how to speak. “That’s… that’s unbelievably romantic.”

Sukuna smirked, unapologetically smug. “I told you. I’m off–season. I’ve got time to love my baby right.”

A crew member actually clutched their chest. The interviewer gave a sheepish, breathless laugh. “You’re setting the bar high, Sukuna–san.”

He leaned back in his chair with a shrug that somehow managed to be both cocky and affectionate. “Well, what can I say? I might be captain on court but she’s the gravity I orbit.”

The interview was still rolling, the room thick with soft lights and focused silence, when Ryomen Sukuna’s phone vibrated on the table just beside him.

He glanced at it briefly, just a flick of his scarlet eyes but the moment he saw your name on the screen, his whole posture changed. He smiled, subtle and immediate, the kind of smile that didn’t need to be big to be completely disarming.

“Ah—sorry, one sec.” he said, raising a hand toward the crew, already reaching for the phone. “It’s [name], my baby. It’s her only break window today.”

The interviewer blinked, then gave a quick nod. “Of course, yeah—go ahead.”

Ryomen Sukuna didn’t wait for the official pause. He stood up from the interview chair, walking a few steps away with the phone to his ear, voice already softening as he answered. He smiles as your breath echoes through the phone.

“My love, hi!”

“Hey, babe.” he murmured, leaning against a nearby counter. “You good? Just got a ten-minute break?”

Your voice continued to crack through the line, laced with fatigue and static from the lab but still bright enough to make his expression soften even more. He could see it fully in his head as he waits for you to reply.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about me.” you said, sighing through what sounded like the background hum of machines. “We’re calibrating the prototype’s rotation module again. I’ve been staring at solar panels and trajectory mapping for six hours. I needed to hear your voice.”

Sukuna chuckled, low and warm, and ran a hand through his hair. “You're insane, you know that? Designing satellites while half running mission control on caffeine and half a protein bar.”

“You made me that protein bar, so whose fault is it, really?” you teased.

He laughed, eyes flicking up briefly at the camera crew still waiting politely across the room. “Hey, babe.” he said, gently, “I’m mid-interview, but I told them to wait. You’re more important. I’m all yours for the next ten minutes.”

You exhaled softly on the line. “You really didn’t have to—”

“Yes I did.” he cut in, voice firm but fond. “You never stop working. I’ll always make time when you finally stop.”

There was a beat of silence between you. There was nothing awkward, just weighted with how much the two of you knew without saying it. You know that he was not going to care, no matter what you say. You were going to be his priority, no matter what he’s doing. 

“So, babe.” he continued, grinning now. “You want the espresso rundown for today? I’ve got a new blend waiting for you when you get home. The new coffee beans just arrived!”

“You spoil me so much.” you whispered.

“You build satellites without rest. Let me have this.”

From across the room, the crew watched quietly. The interviewer, still seated, whispered to someone off-camera, “He’s totally gone for her..”

Sukuna didn’t even seem to notice. He was still leaning against the wall, smiling as he nodded at your words and replied back to him. He happily replies to you once again.

The crew was quietly resetting for the next segment when Ryomen Sukuna walked and leaned further against the counter, still on the phone with you. One hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding the phone a little tighter now, like it grounded him.

“So, hey.” he said, voice dropping into that mellow drawl he only really used with you. “You always ask me what I’m doing in the off–season. You know, working out less, spoiling you more, trying to figure out the difference between a flat white and a cortado…”

You laughed softly on the other end, and he smiled just hearing it. “But I never asked you. What about you, huh? What does your off-season look like, Starstuff–sensei?”

You let out a breath, half a sigh, half a smile. “Off–season? You mean the mythical time when I’m not being held hostage by quantum models and satellite firmware?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. That one. If it ever existed.”

There was a pause, like you had to actually think about the idea. Because rest didn’t come easy when your work literally reached the edges of space. But you know that if you could, if you had the chance to do it, then you know what you wanted to do.

“Honestly?” you said. “If I get downtime... I just want to be around you. Take care of you even more. That’s it. No labs, no screens, no math. Just... you. Even if it’s quiet. Especially if it’s quiet.”

Sukuna’s fingers curled a little around the edge of the counter, his heart doing that annoying little thing where it picked up speed without permission. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, my love.” you retorted, gleefully swooning about your fantasy. “You’re the only person I can sit next to in silence and feel like I’m actually resting. I don’t want a beach, or a trip, or some grand thing. Just the balcony with you. Or the kitchen. Or even the gym if you’re doing those dumb push–up challenges again. We can bring Marin too!”

He laughed, rich and warm, and tilted his head back to hide how much that meant. “Dumb push-up challenges.” he repeated, grinning. “Okay, that one’s on you for watching every rep like it was the Olympics all over again.”

“You make it hard not to stare, my love.” you said, and the flirt in your voice was clear enough that Sukuna had to bite back a smug little noise. “I’m crazy about you. You know that.”

“Stop, babe.” he said, eyes glinting. “I’m still mic’d up. I’ll short out the camera guy’s equipment if you keep that up.”

You giggled again, softer now. “I should get back to the lab in a minute.”

“I know, babe.” he murmured, glancing at the timer on the wall, already counting down the seconds you had left.

“Thirty seconds, my love.” you said before he could, reading his mind. “Guess it’s your turn to say something cheesy.”

He looked down for a beat, then spoke low. “Come home safe. Your coffee’s waiting. And I miss you, even in ten–minute pieces.”

Silence, again. But the kind that held a smile inside it. “Love you, my golden love.” you whispered.

“Love you more, my genius baby.” he replied, and the line clicked off.

Ryomen Sukuna turned back toward the crew, slipping his phone into his pocket like he hadn’t just been pulled halfway into orbit by your voice. “Sorry, you guys.” he said, settling back into the chair. “Where were we?”

The interviewer, still recovering, just blinked. “Right. Uh. You were saying something about cortados…”

But all anyone could think about was how the gold medalist, the fierce, untouchable captain had stars in his scarlet eyes for someone who charted galaxies for a living on the other side of town. And he never fell back to earth.

YOU WERE HAPPY AND NERVOUS ALL AT ONCE. The atmosphere was electric in the room filled with bright lights and excited reporters. The Japan Prize ceremony had wrapped up in a whirlwind of accolades, handshakes, and applause. 

You and your colleague, Dr. Maryu Hana, stood side by side, both holding your newly awarded prize with pride.  It had been a long, intense journey to get here, you both know that.

It was so many countless nights in the lab, endless calculations, and years of dedication to your groundbreaking research in astrophysics. But today, it had all paid off.

As the camera crew prepared to capture you and your partner, a bright eyed reporter turned toward you, eager to ask the questions that everyone was dying to hear. The reporter smiled brightly as they began to speak.

"Congratulations, [last name] – sensei, and of course, to you as well, Maryu–sensei. What an achievement! You've made such an impact with your work.”

You smiled, nodding at them. “Thank you so much.”

“But there’s one question that’s been on everyone’s mind: you’ve been very public about your relationship with someone who’s quite famous himself—Ryomen Sukuna, the Olympic gold medalist and national volleyball team captain. Could you tell us a little about how you balance such a high–profile relationship with your demanding career?"

Your heart warmed at the mention of Sukuna’s name, the very thought of him always bringing a soft smile to your face. You glanced at Hana, who was grinning knowingly. She had been there for quite some time now, watching the bond between you and Sukuna grow. She knows how you feel, how overwhelming love has consumed your heart.

“Well…..it’s a lot." you began, your voice steady but warm. "But I think it’s all about mutual support. Both of us have incredibly demanding careers, but we’ve learned to make time for each other, even if it's just small moments. When he's off–season, he's incredibly present, and when he's in the thick of competition, I try to be there in whatever way I can."

The reporter’s eyes widened, clearly intrigued. "It sounds like you and Sukuna–san really understand each other. What’s it like to have such a public figure as a partner?"

You smiled, your fingers absentmindedly brushing the edge of your award. “I don’t really think about him as ‘Ryomen Sukuna, the volleyball captain’. But at home, I just think of him as Sukuna."

"He's just your beloved Sukuna." The reporter supplies to you.

You nodded at them, smiling. "Exactly. He's just him. He's my fiancé. And Marin's cheerful energetic dad. He’s… the one who makes sure I’m well-fed with good coffee when I’m buried in research. He makes me laugh even when I’m on my hundredth sleepless night.”

The interviewer’s smile deepened as they jotted down a few notes. “You mentioned coffee, [last name] – sensei. We’ve heard rumors that Ryomen Sukuna’s barista skills have become legendary. Is that true?”

You laughed softly, unable to hide the fondness that bloomed in your chest at the thought of him. "He got his barista license during the off – season, yeah. He learned how to make the perfect cup of coffee just for me. "

"Which takes a lot, I heard he did at least twenty sessions cause he wanted to make it perfect!"

Well, he said he wanted to be able to spoil me during those rare moments when I can take a break. So, he did what he thinks he could for me. That's just love, you know?" You laugh softly, eyes full of tenderness. "Yes, I do get spoiled with the best coffee. Best in the country, best in the world, even.”

A soft chuckle passed through the crew, but the interviewer’s curiosity hadn’t been fully sated. “That sounds like a perfect balance. But what about the challenges? How do you two navigate the pressures of your individual careers?”

You took a deep breath, considering the question. “It’s not always easy. Both of us have high expectations for ourselves, and we’re driven by the work we do. But we’ve learned that we don’t always have to be together physically to support each other. Sometimes it’s just sending a text during a long day, making sure the other knows you’re thinking of them. When you’re in a partnership like that, it’s the small gestures that matter the most.”

Hana, who had been quietly listening with a knowing smile, nodded beside you. "I've seen the two of them quite a lot when Sukuna visits the lab. There’s a quiet understanding there. They both give a lot, and they both understand what the other needs, whether it’s space to work or moments of rest.”

The reporter’s expression softened, clearly moved by the connection between you and Sukuna. “It’s clear that you two have something special. And now, with such a significant achievement under your belt, what’s next for you both?”

You looked at the interviewer, then at Hana, and finally allowed your mind to wander toward Sukuna. You could almost picture him in the back of your mind. Sitting on the couch with your beloved dog son and waiting at home, the hum of the coffee machine brewing. He would stand up, your loving dog barking and asking you if you want coffee.

“Well…..” you said with a twinkle in your eyes. “I think we’ll both take some time to celebrate this. I mean, national title in the bag and a Japan Prize? It’s massive. But of course, the work never really stops for either of us. I’ll be back in the lab tomorrow, and he’ll be gearing up for his next season. But... I think we’ve got a good thing going. And no matter what comes next, we’ll continue supporting each other, no matter the stars we’re chasing."

The reporter grinned, a little mischievously this time. “Alright, you’ve painted such a sweet picture of life with Sukuna. But let’s be honest—no one’s perfect. What’s something he does that ticks you off a little… but you also can’t help being fond of?”

You laughed, the kind that comes from years of endearment wrapped in mild exasperation. “Oh, there’s definitely something.”

The reporter leaned in, intrigued. “Oh, please tell, sensei!”

“He has this thing, my love.” you began, eyes already gleaming with affection. “It’s where he refuses to fall asleep unless he’s holding my hand. Every single night. Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of summer and we’re both melting into the mattress. So, he’ll lie there, completely still, not even pretending to sleep, just... waiting. Silently. Until I give in and reach over.”

You shook your head with a fond sigh. “It used to drive me crazy. I’d be tossing and turning, trying to stay cool, and he’s just lying there like some stubborn heat source, hand outstretched like I’m the one being difficult.”

The reporter chuckled, clearly loving every bit of it. “And now?”

“Now?” you smiled softly. “Now I can’t fall asleep either unless I know he’s holding my hand. I guess it just became our thing. I grumble about it every summer, but honestly… It's one of the little things that remind me how much he loves me. That quiet, constant presence. It’s annoying, it’s ridiculous, and it’s so him. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

The reporter scribbled something quickly, then looked up with a smile. “Sounds like the best kind of trouble.”

You nodded. “Yeah. He’s exactly that.”

The reporter’s smile lingered, soft and a little dreamy now. “That’s such a vivid image. I think everyone just collectively sighed at the thought of the Demon King refusing to sleep without holding your hand.”

You laughed again, this time covering your face briefly in mock embarrassment. “He’s going to kill me when he goes and watches this.”

“Worth it, isn’t it?” the reporter grinned. “It’s those tiny rituals that make a relationship feel real, y’know? Oh, but one last thing before we wrap. When you think about everything, the early mornings, the wins, the stress, the quiet nights with your hand in his….what do you think makes your love last?”

You paused, the question settling over you like a blanket. And for a moment, your expression softened into something raw and honest. You become flustered, but there was a smile on your face. “Gosh, that’s quite a big question.”

Hana smiles at you, tugging at your shoulder tenderly. “Just be honest about it. He’ll love that.”

“I think… it’s the choice, always has been.” you said quietly. “Every day, we choose each other. Even when we’re exhausted. Even when we argue. Even when it’s easier to turn away. He waits for me to hold his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like he knows I’ll always reach back. And I do. That kind of trust? That’s what keeps us going.”

The room seemed still, like the story between the two of you had settled into the space, warm and undeniable. You smiled, already picturing the moment you’d get home. Everything about going home just makes you feel like life is beautiful, more beautiful than any utopia.

You imagine Sukuna on the couch, probably pretending he wasn’t waiting up. Your beloved dog wagging his tail, your favorite mug set beside the couch. And later, when the lights go out and the room is still, that familiar hand reaches for yours in the dark. You’d reach back. Always.

The interviewer smiled, clearly touched. "You’ve both certainly reached for the stars, and now you're holding them in your hands. Congratulations again, [last name] – sensei, and Maryu–sensei. And best wishes to both of you and your incredible futures."

The drive home was filled with a quiet kind of anticipation. The adrenaline of the ceremony still buzzed in your veins, and the weight of the Japan Prize still felt surreal, but all you could think about was the warm, steady presence of Ryomen Sukuna. 

But it was a stark contrast to the academic whirlwind you had just stepped out of, the cameras and interviews a distant echo now, replaced by thoughts of him. You wanted nothing more than to be home in his arms and feel his warmth only. 

When you walked through the door of your shared apartment, you were greeted by the familiar scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. The soft clink of pots and pans suggested that Sukuna was already hard at work. 

As you set down your bag, you caught sight of him in the kitchen. There was no longer the Olympian hero, but simply your beloved fiancé, who had rolled up his sleeves and was cooking with his usual focused intensity.

You smiled softly, the day’s chaos fading with every step toward him. He turned, sensing your presence, and when his eyes landed on you, there was no mistaking the pride and tenderness that filled them.

“Well, look who decided to grace me with her regal science genius presence, my baby.” Sukuna teased, a playful grin curling at the corners of his lips. He stepped forward, setting down the ladle he had been stirring with. “You deserve a victory lap, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was already swelling at how normal this felt. In the midst of all the fame, the interviews, and the flashing lights, this was the real joy. It was just being together. This was more than anything, the best of your life.

“Victory lap?” you said with a soft laugh. “I think I’ve had enough of those for today. Besides, I know I’ll be back in the lab tomorrow. No time to rest on my laurels.”

Sukuna's expression softened, and he crossed the room in a few long strides to pull you into a gentle hug. His warmth seeped through your clothes, grounding you in the present. “You’ve earned it, babe. You and Hana both. You’re brilliant, and I’m proud of you.”

You chuckled against his chest, a lightness in your voice. “I’m just doing my job, my love.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands still on your shoulders. “Don’t downplay it. What you’re doing is incredible. The world’s got to catch up with you, genius.” His smile widened, as though that was a challenge he was ready to take on.

You shook your head fondly, your hand brushing over the front of his shirt before resting on his chest. “I think the world’s already caught up with me. Or maybe they’ve caught up with us.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because, my love,” you replied, lifting your head to meet his gaze with a smile of your own, “I’ve got an Olympic gold medalist, cook and barista at home. All in one. What more could I need?”

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes gleamed with pride. “I’d like to think that’s a pretty good package.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of your head before leading you over to the dining table, where a meal fit for a celebration awaited. The table was set simply but thoughtfully. The candles flickered in the center, casting a warm glow on the beautifully prepared dishes. 

You could tell he’d put in the effort, carefully selecting ingredients to make something you’d enjoy. It wasn’t the grandest of celebrations, but to you, it felt like everything you needed. He was everything you needed.

He pulled out your chair for you with a flourish, and you sat down, already anticipating the warmth of his homemade cooking. As he began serving the meal, he made sure to tell you all about his day, how he had been following the interview, how much he was cheering for you, how proud he was.

“Tell me about the next step for your project, babe.” Sukuna said, leaning forward with an almost childlike curiosity. “What comes after the prize? What’s next for you?”

You took a moment, considering the future. It was easy to get lost in the immediate tasks ahead, but the truth was, you had dreamed about this moment for so long. The recognition was important, of course, but it was the journey you shared with him that meant the most.

“I’m still figuring that out, all that, my love.” you admitted, taking a sip of the wine he’d poured for you. “But honestly? I think it’s time to start looking beyond just the work. Maybe we’ll finally take that trip we’ve been talking about for years.”

He gave a sly grin. “You mean the one where we actually relax for once?”

You nodded, leaning back in your chair, feeling the weight of the day finally lifting from your shoulders. “Yeah, I think it’s about time.”

He raised his glass in a silent toast, his eyes soft as they met yours. “To that wish!” he said, his voice steady and filled with promise. “And to you, my baby for life. For everything.”

You clink your glass against his, smiling wider. “And to us, for making it all work.”

He smiles back at you, slyly as it was gentle. “Always, to us.”

As the evening drew on, the two of you found yourselves nestled together on the couch, the quiet hum of the city outside filling the silence. The warm glow of the candles lingered, and the soft music played in the background, setting a mood that was calm and content. 

Ryomen Sukuna’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his long fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your warm, tender skin as you leaned into his side, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“So, babe.” Sukuna said, his voice low but playful. “When are we packing our bags for that trip? Off–season still has time for us. You can ask for a break, hopefully. You know the one where we actually relax.”

You smiled, nuzzling into his shoulder as you thought about it. “I’m still not sure where I want to go. I’ve been so caught up in the work, I haven’t even had a chance to really think about it.”

“C’mon, babe.” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We could go anywhere. Let’s pick a place that’s got nothing to do with astrophysics. No satellites, no stars, no quantum models. Just us.”

You chuckled softly. “You mean… no coffee? No espresso machines?”

Sukuna’s smirk deepened. “Well, I’m not giving up my barista status. But maybe I’ll take a break from making it and just let you enjoy it for once.”

You laughed at that, your hand resting on his chest. “Alright, deal. But what about you? You’re always so busy with your training. You never take a break either.”

He looked down at you, his gaze softening. “You’ve got a point. Maybe it’s time I take a break from everything too, you know? Even volleyball. No gym, no courts, just time for us. I’ll spend the whole trip just making sure you have everything you need.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze. “You know, you already do that every day. I don’t need a trip to feel special. Just being here with you is more than enough.”

Sukuna’s smirk softened into something tender. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “You’re the only one who thinks like that. But that’s why I love you, babe.”

For a moment, everything else faded almost suddenly. The world outside, the interviews, the awards. It was just you and Sukuna, a quiet evening shared between two people who had built something deeper than any career or recognition.

“I’m serious, my love.” you murmured, your voice quiet but firm. “I don’t need anything else. You’re all I need.”

His arms tightened around you, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The weight of the world, the prize, and the noise of the outside world all faded into nothingness.

“I’ll keep that in mind, babe.” he whispered. “But I’m still taking you on that trip. Call your boss. We deserve it.”

You leaned into him again, your eyes fluttering closed. “Alright, alright. I’ll make it happen.”

“Good.” He says, placing a kiss against your hair. 

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. Sukuna didn’t ask for more than you were willing to give, and you didn’t ask for anything beyond the quiet, shared moments that were somehow the most significant.

You could already picture the trip in your mind. It was a place with no distractions, no deadlines, just time to breathe and be with each other. It wasn’t about where you went, but about the peace that came with being together. A perfect escape from the chaos.

As the night wore on, you both lingered in that peaceful space. The gentle rise and fall of Sukuna’s chest beneath your head was enough to lull you into a sense of comfort and safety. And when you finally stood up to get ready for bed, Sukuna’s hand slid into yours like it had always belonged there.

“I’ll make you coffee tomorrow morning, babe.” he said with a grin as you both walked to your bedroom. “But only if you let me spoil you with breakfast again.”

You smiled, nodding. “I think I can manage that.”

And with that, the night unfolded like any other peaceful evening at home with your beloved Sukuna. Just as always, it was quiet, comforting, and full of love. And it was everything you could ever want. 

epilogue

The sound of the roaring crowd reverberated through the television speakers, the tension in the air almost palpable as the game neared its final moments. The scoreboard flashed, Ryomen Sukuna’s team was trailing by just one point, the energy in the stadium crackling with anticipation. 

The ball soared through the air like a comet, heading straight toward the opposing team’s side. You leaned forward in your seat, your fingers tightening around the mug of coffee made by your love still in your hands.

You were back in the office once again, still doing calculations for the newest improvements on the satellite. From your quiet corner of the laboratory office, you could see it all unfolding on the screen: the powerful serves, the flawless blocks, the high-flying spikes. And there, amidst all the chaos, was Sukuna. 

His toned and tanned body, glowing from the vacation sun, flexed with the way he moved. His hair slightly tousled, his face set in that familiar determined expression, and his movements. It was fluid, almost effortless. It showed exactly why he was a gold medalist.

"You’ve got this, my love. Come on!" you whispered under your breath, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. Still, it felt right to say it, to be part of this moment, even from afar.

The camera zoomed in on Sukuna as he took position for the game-deciding moment. The opposing team was ready for the block, but there was something in the way Sukuna stood, his eyes locked onto the ball. The quiet confidence he wore was contagious, even through the screen.

The ball came soaring toward him. He didn’t hesitate whatsoever. With a powerful, fluid motion, he leapt into the air. His spike cut through the tension like a blade through silk.

The crowd held its collective breath as hope continued to pounce against the heaviness of the unknown. Time seemed to slow as the ball collided with the perfect angle and flew past the blockers.

The stadium exploded with sound. Cheers, clapping, the echo of voices screaming his name. You grinned, watching his team members rush toward him in celebration.

Yet, your heart swelled most when Sukuna’s scarlet eyes locked onto the screen. It was brief, but in that moment, it felt like he was looking right at you.

“You did it, my love!” you whispered to yourself, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you clutched the coffee mug a little tighter. “I knew you would.”

The post-game interviews began, and you took a sip of your coffee, settling in to watch the typical frenzy of reporters bombarding him with questions. You were about to scroll through your phone when a new message popped up on your screen. You smiled when you saw the name.

“Victory’s ours. Now it’s your turn. Don’t think I forgot.”

It was a text from Sukuna. You quickly typed your response.

“I’ll be home in a bit. I’ll see you soon, my love! Same rules as before, right? No satellites, just us.”

A few moments passed before his reply came through.

“Exactly. I’ll be waiting for you, babe. With some hot milk this time.”

You put your phone down and watched as Ryomen Sukuna was handed the microphone. The interviewer was grinning, clearly excited by the energy surrounding him. He pushes away his wet fuschia hair back from falling against his eyes.

“So, Sukuna–san.” the reporter began to say. “You’ve just clinched the game with that impressive spike. Your team has been on fire this season, and you’re back with a vengeance after your Olympic gold medal. How does it feel to be on top once again?”

Sukuna’s usual smirk curled into his lips, but this time it softened, just slightly, when he spoke. “It feels good!” he said, his voice smooth and steady. “But you know, every win is just another step forward. It’s never enough to just get there. You keep pushing for more.”

“Of course, of course.” the reporter continued. “I know you’re planning to go home after this. But please do tell, because we’ve heard a lot about your off–season routine. How do you balance being one of the top athletes in the country with your personal life? Especially with someone like [last name] — sensei, the brilliant astrophysicist who just won the Japan Prize?”

Sukuna leaned back slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he considered the question. His fingers drummed idly against the armrest.

But his eyes. They were sharp, steady, and glowing with quiet determination—remained locked on the interviewer.

“Well....lots of work. And devotion. In the mess, you always choose each other!” he began, voice low and sure. “Just as I hope for another hope for the gold, there should be hunger for love. Do everything for love. Make sure that hunger never really fades. You put in the hours, the blood, the sweat, just to sit back. And.........”

He paused for a beat, then let his eyes drift toward you across the city through the screen, something undeniably soft slipping into his gaze.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot more long-term. I’ve got medals, trophies, records. But the real win? It’s being able to come home to peace. To her. And having life with her."

"So yeah, I’m still chasing the top. In love, in life, in work. But I’m also building something steady outside of the spotlight. Learning how to show up in all the quiet ways that matter most. That’s how it goes.”

The whole work room was quiet for a heartbeat, like everyone had collectively forgotten to breathe. Then, you found that Hana was on the verge of singing praises all the sudden.

“God, he’s so sweet!” Hana groaned, dramatically flopping onto the couch. “I wish my boyfriend was just like that!”

Kenji wheeled around to her with a laugh. “Good luck with that!”

Haruki raised his hands in surrender, eyes wide. More flustered than he had ever looked in his life. “Hey, I’m trying my best here!”

Kenji shot him a wicked grin. “Oh? Doesn’t sound like it’s enough!”

You stifled a laugh behind your hand as Hana groaned, “Don’t start, you two! this is why I need a Sukuna in my life.”

The interviewer chuckled at the chaos unfolding in the background before turning their attention back to Sukuna. “Well, it sounds like you’re more than just an athlete, you know? You’re the backbone of something really special. A perfect team, indeed. So what’s next? Another championship? Or something new entirely?”

Sukuna cracked his knuckles, that usual glint of fire returning to his expression. “Definitely another championship, for sure.” he said, voice low and certain. “But more than that? I want to set an example. Not just on the field, but off it too. Show that you can be relentless in your goals and soft where it counts. I’ve already got the most important win. The rest? That’s just icing.”

Your heart gave a little flutter, even after all this time. “God….”

And beside you, Hana whispered, “Seriously. Where do I order one of him?”

The room burst into laughter at Hana’s dramatic whisper, even the interviewer chuckling as they scribbled something into their notes. Sukuna glanced over, amused, one brow squirming up in that smug way of his.

The audience laughed, the room buzzing with energy from the live segment. Sukuna’s words continued to become a viral moment once again. You watched through it all.

You saw his smug grin, the teasing glint in his eye as he proudly declared his engagement once again. Even through the screen, his confidence was magnetic, almost obnoxiously charming.

Kenji was still whooping in the background. “Man, that was bold! You better be ready, he just threw you under the spotlight now!”

Hana looked at you with starry eyes. “Seriously! Do you know how many people just fell in love with him after that clip? You better keep a close grip on that ring!”

You smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Trust me. If anyone tried, they’d find out real quick, he’s not the only one who fights professionally.”

Everyone laughed, especially Haruki, who was now clinging to the armrest of the couch like it was a life preserver. “I’m just trying to live up to the standard, okay? Can we lower the bar back to human levels?”

“Nope, nope!” Hana said sweetly. “Not when that guy just announced he’s engaged and is a one woman man like a heartthrob lead in a drama.”

You laughed again, but there was a subtle softness in your gaze now as you looked at the ecstatic and eccentric form of Ryomen Sukuna’s image moving on screen.

Still gesturing and continuing with the interview, but still the corner of his mouth pulled into that familiar cocky grin. You couldn't help but let your eyes sparkle with intrigue and entertainment.

“Yeah, yeah.” you said, waving a hand dismissively, though your voice was warm. “And he comes with a whole lot of maintenance too you know. He takes care of me and loves me. You all hear the charming part, but you don’t see the sulking when I hide the junk food or when he loses one sock and swears the washing machine’s out to get him.”

Haruki blinked. “Wait—he loses socks?”

You nodded solemnly. “Like it’s a personal betrayal every single time.”

Hana gasped. “Even his flaws are adorable!”

Kenji clapped a hand over his heart. “That man is living on final boss energy and soft boy romance tropes. Unreal.”

The interviewer, still recovering from the wave of chaos, leaned forward with a knowing smile. “So, wedding soon?”

Ryomen Sukuna looked at the interviewer, smiling back. “Maybe.”

“Oh, so maybe….it means soon, right?” Hana asks you.

You paused, your voice dropping just a touch. “And I’ll take it. Every time.”

You smiled to yourself, the image already so clear in your mind. “Yeah. When the season’s over and this new paper’s out. We’ve got plans. Just really quiet ones. It’ll be something simple, something ours. But I already know… he’ll be waiting at the altar with that same stupid grin, holding out his hand like always.”

The room settled for a moment, the laughter and teasing softening into a warm hum of something quieter. You were sure it was something close to awe.

The screen behind you still showed Sukuna, his expression full of affection for you even as he continues to talk about his plans this season.

Maryu Hana leaned her head on your shoulder with a theatrical sigh, the kind only she could pull off with just the right amount of over the top flair. You like to think that she was truly ready to go and cry her eyes out.

“That’s it, wah. I believe in love again.” Her voice was touched with mock despair and genuine wonder, like she’d just witnessed a fairytale unfold in real time. 

Kenji, never one to be outdone in the dramatics department, wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye with a shaky breath. This was all the sudden.

“I’m gonna cry and I don’t even like romance.” he sniffled, clutching at his chest as if Sukuna’s off-screen declaration had personally wounded him with its sweetness. “This is emotional damage, I wasn’t prepared!”

Laughter rippled through the room, light and affectionate. It was somewhat of a thing here whenever you and Sukuna were brought up.

This was just something people didn’t expect, seeing all his tattoos and all that. Yet the more they knew him, the more they all fell in love with his devotion for you. They were as hooked as you were. 

Haruki, still visibly flustered from being compared to Sukuna for the third time in ten minutes, finally dropped the act and threw up his hands in defeat. “Okay, but even I want to be invited to this wedding now, senpai.” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed pink.

Hana snapped her head toward him, lifting her head off your shoulder just long enough to squint suspiciously. “Figure out how you’ll propose to me first!” she huffed, jabbing a finger into his side with faux annoyance.

He winced and held up his hands like a man under interrogation. “I—I’m working on it!”

“You’ve had two years and not even a hint of a ring!” Hana grumbled, arms crossed as she pouted dramatically. “Meanwhile, Ryomen Sukuna is out here declaring eternal love on national TV like some legendary shojo manga lead.”

“Do you want me to compete with The Ryomen Sukuna?” Haruki squeaked, clearly panicking now. “Because that’s a losing game and you know it!”

Kenji leaned over with a smug grin, patting Haruki’s shoulder like a disappointed older brother. “He’s right. That man’s got cheat codes. You? You’re just trying not to burn pasta.”

The group burst into another wave of laughter as Haruki buried his face in his hands and groaned. It was another lovely day in the research lab. You sighed contently as you nodded to yourself. Life was indeed good.

You smiled as you watched your friends bicker and banter, your heart full. Even with Sukuna miles away, his presence had lit up the room like he was sitting right there beside you. And somewhere in all the laughter, the teasing, and the warmth.

For a moment, you knew felt it again. It was that familiar, steady pull. The quiet certainty that no matter how big the world got, no matter how loud the applause or how bright the spotlight.

It was your love, at its core, that remained soft and tender and at the center of it all. And most of all, you knew that man was entirely, irrevocably, yours.

[alisonwritesimagines]

Stages of Grief ~Batkids Imagine~

Inspired by this comment from @martaellyimnotabot left on my AU If Bruce Cheated on Batmom:

I believe that the bat kids would be REALLY mad with Bruce, like "HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON MOM???" Would be nice to see the bat kids reaction on it.

Summary: The kids go through the stages of grief when you leave Bruce and disappear without saying anything to anyone.

Author's Note: This is a part two and not canon to my Batmom series!

Part One

They were in shock at first on how you disappeared. They first checked your hometown but you were smart to not go there when you left the mansion. They checked the safe houses but found nothing. You had really done your research in disappearing away from the family. Especially from Bruce.

The kids sadly began to go through the stages of grief after a couple days of you gone.

First was stage number one. Denial.

“Mom wouldn’t just leave us,” Tim said to everyone as they were together. They had tried to find you again but no avail.

“You’re right. Maybe she’s just on some kind of vacation to get away,” Dick suggested.

“Unless someone kidnapped her,” Jason said, looking at the negative side of life.

“I can ensure you all that your mother has not been kidnapped,” Alfred said, interrupting their little meeting.

"Alfred? Where's mom then?" Cassandra asked him.

"I'm afraid I cannot disclose that with any of you. She is not ready to face you all just yet," Alfred said before leaving.

The second stage of grief came next. Anger.

“It’s all Bruce’s fault! How could he have cheated on mom?!” Jason yelled.

The batkids had just learned of why their mother left. Bruce had cheated on her with Selina who is pregnant with his baby. Dick was the one who found out when he spotted Selina with a bump.

“For once, can he just choose mom?” Jason asked angrily.

“Jason. We’ll find her. You need to calm down,” Tim said.

“Calm down?! She has always been there for us and he drove her away!” Jason yelled angrily.

“You don’t think we’re upset about this either?” Cassandra asked upset.

“You sure don’t act like it,” Jason jabbed.

“We’re all upset dumbass! You’re not the only one who looked up to her as a mom!”

“Fuck this! I’m going solo for a while,” Jason said as he walked off.

Bruce barely had any of the kids by his side during patrol. He was lucky to have one by him who followed orders.

After their anger had finally died down after two months, bargaining came next.

“Alfred. Please. We just need to know if she’s okay,” Stephanie asked him.

“I’m sorry. I was given strict orders from Miss Y/n to not say anything until she is ready.”

“Until she’s ready? Alfred please,” Tim begged.

“I’m sorry Master Tim. But what I can say is that she is safe and is doing well,” Alfred said.

There were few who quickly passed the anger, denial, and bargaining phase. The two being Dick and Damian who went into the depression phase quickly.

“I miss her,” Damian says to Dick.

He had never cried before. Damien was raised that crying was a sign of weakness. But you had told him otherwise and had told him that it’s okay to cry every once in a while. You told him that it was good to be sad sometimes.

“I know buddy.”

“Why would she leave us though? Did we do something wrong? I know father cheated on her but why punish us?” Damian asked with watery eyes.

“You heard what Alfred said. She just needs to be alone for a while. She’ll come back to us soon,” Dick comforted.

“I’m surprised you’re not as mad as Jason,” Damian said.

“I’ve know Bruce and mom longer. I’m just more sad that she can’t trust us to share where she is. But I know it’s because Bruce would’ve followed us over to her,” Dick tells him.

"Do you think she'll come back for us?" Damien asked.

"Soon. She'll come back to us soon."

Dick put an arm around Damien as he comforted him. Damien silently cried as he missed you. He wanted you to hug him and tell him that you were always going to be there for him no matter what.

After four months of you being gone, the kids had finally accepted the fact you were gone. That was until you had came back to the mansion and gave Bruce the papers for full custody over your unborn child and papers for divorce. Alfred gave your new address to the kids who rushed over afterwards.

“We missed you so much,” Cassandra tells you as she hugged you.

“I miss you all too. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you all. I needed to make sure I was in a secure and safe place before I could see you all again,” you explain.

“So we’re gonna have a new sibling soon?” Jason asked as he looked down at your bump.

“Yup. I found out after I left Bruce,” you tell them.

“I hope it’s a boy,” Damian said.

“I hope it’s a girl. We have enough boys here,” Cassandra said.

“Either way, I’m going to love my baby as much as I love you all,” you tell them.

"Please don't leave us like that again," Dick says as he hugged you as well.

"I'm sorry again. But I promise to tell you all everything that you need to know from now on," you tell them.

"That's all we ask. We love you mom and we don't want to lose you," Tim says.

"I'm sorry for worrying you kids. But now, you can visit me whenever you want," you tell them with a small smile.

"I can get a place close to here for you ma," Jason said.

"Whatever makes you comfortable. Hardly any crime here and everyone has been nice," you assure to them.

"It's a thirty minute drive from Gotham so I'll move somewhere in between so if you ever need us, we'll help you," Jason tells you.

"Thank you sweetie. I appreciate that," you say to him.

"What do you have planned now?"

"Well Bruce offered to give me alimony so I don't have to work. But I'm thinking of doing something to keep me busy," you tell the kids.

"Well if you need us at any point, call us and we'll drop everything for you," Tim says.

"Thank you," you say, smiling at them again.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: your acquaintance with their and their trust in you🫶🏻

Featuring: Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f), Kim Young Mi x Reader(f)

Warning: There are deviations from the plot + let's imagine that your managed to escape with the girls from the game.

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Kang Sae Byeok🖤

You met her at the first game. Under not very good circumstances. When you ran to the finish line, praying that this stupid doll wouldn't catch anything bad from you, you stumbled, right at the very last moment, when the Doll finished her song and was already starting to turn around. You thought it was all, you're going to die. But here you are grabbed by the neck of a green jacket.

– Don't move. - You hear a strict tone that you can't disobey, the Doll didn't notice any movements and you could continue. Your savior gently pushed you to hurry up: - Hurry up, you don't have much time. - You turned around and saw a beautiful girl with an unusual appearance. Her face didn't reflect any emotions, you nodded and continued to run.

Thanks to this girl, you won, you wanted to thank her, so in the common room you immediately approached her bed, where she was resting.

- What do you want? - she asked coldly.

- I wanted to thank you for saving me. If it weren't for you, I would have died in this terrible game. - you said a little embarrassed, but a new acquaintance did not react to your gratitude.

- Next time just be careful, no one had to help you, it's such a one-time action. - you're even offended by her words, but you understood that she was right, because in this game, and in life, everyone is for himself. Before you go, you decided to ask: - Can I know your name?

- Kang Sae Byeok. - briefly answered the one to which you smiled.

- And me Y/N, you have a very beautiful name. - you said, and then went to your place.

Who would have thought that after this moment you would be with her all the time. Honestly, you didn't do it on purpose, but maybe it's fate? In every game you followed her without realizing why you did it at all. The girl was annoyed at first and she tried to ignore you, but she couldn't, because you tried to ask: "How are you?", "How are you feeling?". Sae Byeok hasn't been asked about it for a long time, maybe that's why she softened to you.

She hadn’t confidence in you for a long time, she got used to people constantly deceiving her, but getting to know you more, she understood that you were not such a person, you are an honest and kind girl. And she gave up. She herself began to gradually open up to you and also protect in games and from the terrible men that surrounded you here.

When you came out of these games, you started walking together often. It was an ordinary walk around the city, nothing more. At first, Sae Byeok didn't really want to, but you found a way to persuade her.

Soon you started dating and moved into a common apartment, the girl finally began to feel needed and loved, you were even able to take her brother to your place, and for her it was the most important act from you (her heart then finally melted).

You understand that it is still difficult for her to entrust you with her personal secrets, but you both go through this stage so that you have a final trusting relationship.

Cho Hyun Ju💋

You met this beautiful woman at the second game. You couldn't find a team, but when you saw that many people also rejected it, you decided to try to call her to your team.

- Sorry.. Wouldn't you like to join my team? - you spoke quietly, but she heard you and was a little embarrassed by the offer, but gladly agreed.

That's how it all started, you won the second game, after which you were able to get to know her better. You've seen that she's extremely careful with people and doesn't say much about herself. But you were able to find out that she is transgender and saves money to finish the operations and go to live in Thailand. Her goals and determination inspired you a lot.

- You will definitely succeed! And you are a very beautiful girl! - you said it very sincerely, she felt it and gently smiled at you.

Hyun Ju decided that she would protect you, since you were the first person who saw something good in her. Acquaintance and stories about yourself went gradually, none of you wanted to rush things, and especially with confidence. After all, you understood that it's difficult for a girl because of the past.

When you left the game, you didn't stop communicating with Hyun Ju, on the contrary, you got even closer. After a while you confessed your love to her, she cried for a long time, but not from grief! From happiness that she found a loved one in such a bad place. She was able to fully open up to you. You went through a difficult path of transition to a girl with her and then went to Thailand together, bought a small house and were able to live happily.

Se Mi💗

You also met this girl at the second game, she came up to you and offered to unite, which you immediately agreed to. Of course, both of you weren't happy that the other members of the team were guys who behaved like complete idiots. Se Mi didn't trust them at all, so she tried to stay away from them and asked you to do exactly the same.

- Why did you want to unite with me? - you asked her when you were both alone.

- I felt that you wouldn't lie to me and that you were a good person. - she replied with a smile, then continued. - But don't trust these guys, I feel that they can do something bad, better stay close to me.

That's what you did. You didn't pay attention to the guys' jokes, and were always next to the girl. You wondered why she was able to trust you so easily and let you get so close, but most likely Se Mi had a good flair. After all, she said that you are the person who will not betray her, and that's what happened. You didn't betray her and were able to get out of the game together, while continuing good communication.

- Don't make any plans tomorrow. - she said.

- Why is that? - you asked with incomprehension, to which she smiled.

- You'll go on a date with me tomorrow. - after that, she quickly kissed you on the lips, you couldn't answer anything, you were just very embarrassed. It seems that this is the beginning of something very good in your life.

Kim Young Mi💕

You also met her during the second game, because she also decided to approach you and offer to unite.

- I'll be happy to join your team. - you answered with a smile.

- Thank you very much! - she said a little embarrassed.

You got closer quickly. After all, Young Mi quickly got attached to you, especially after your support during the game, when she started to get nervous.

- Come on, when we get out of here, shall we go to the movies? - sitting on her bed, you suggested.

- Do you think we can get out?

- Of course! Don't worry, you're safe next to me! - your words made her very embarrassed, next to you she felt like a child, although you are both the same age.

- I believe you. And I agree to go to the movies with you. - the girl replied with a smile.

That's how it all happened. You didn't betray her and were able to get out of this damn game. After that, a couple of days later you went to the cinema to see a romantic movie, you both considered it a date, but you won't tell each other about it yet.

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[inkedinserendipity]

murderbot network effect spoilers under the cut. i am so serious.

CHEWING AND SCREAMING AND GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY CAGE!!!!

one of my favorite freaking things about this whole book is murderbot's squad trying to protect it. and it just has no idea what to do with that. murderbot goes "i'll go alone" and art goes "you will not go alone" and murderbot goes "fuck you art" and art goes "i can't lose you too"

and murderbot goes ?????

and i went !!!!!!

god i had to put the book down and scream. when i read that.

plus it was directly preceded by murderbot's entire crew being like "hey chucklefuck. we're going with you. your veto powers have been revoked." beginning with thiago! who murderbot is still convinced doesn't like it!!

side note because this is constantly funny: murderbot will assume you don't like it while admiring you as a person. and then it would die for you. and then if you express any sort of reciprocal loyalty it rears back like it's been bit by a snake

which is especially funny from people like arada, who could not be further from a snake if they tried

GOD IT'S JUST. the loyalty. it's the *clenches fist* it's the it's the

it's the way art showed its crew pictures of murderbot. they recognized it by its face!! it's the way as soon as iris knew that was peri's secunit they started to hope they'd be rescued!! it's the way art must have talked about murderbot to its crew, because art made a friend!

it's the way that and okay i know this is for the long post where i ramble about wells's craft but it's the way that the character development and relationships are so rewarding if you think through the implications. because on the surface the moment of secunit 3 commenting that "transport is very angry" when trying to evacuate its crew so that it can negotiate with the hostiles is like, yeah, it just got its crew back, i'd be pissed too.

but then you take a step back and go oh, the reason it wants its crew back right now and sounds very angry rather than relieved is because murderbot is down there. and it wants to vacate the planet. so that it can bomb the shit out of the planet. because murderbot is its friend.

and then you have a moment of oh that's really sweet and also fucking terrifying?? your nickname is "peri"? why are you actually frightening???

GOD! FUCK!!

SCREAMING AND GNAWING!!

AND ALSO JUST, this book in particular is everything i freaking wanted from this series. a culmination of all the connections murderbot's made: its crew, its friend art - and the loyalty it's inspired entirely unintentionally. and i was so fucking happy to just have art and murderbot on a mission together, learning how to be friends despite both being absolute assholes who couldn't communicate to save their own lives. but then i got the small hints of art actually talking about murderbot, and trusting it (and vice versa), and then i got a fucking rescue mission that these idiots are about to stage, and god. it's wish fulfillment in a book. this book is everything i could have wanted and i am not exaggerating one bit.

when i realized murderbot was about to get dropped and have to be rescued i lost my goddamn mind. it's just. wells knows exactly what is gratifying for a reader. she did not rush this story because she knows what she's doing with delayed gratification, and i'm so happy she kept this plotline in her back pocket until book six because that makes it so much sweeter. the marination, the fucking - the character development, guys, it's so good.

i will be back. when i have read more pages of this book i will be back. i am just at the beginning of the rescue attempt. no spoilers! or i'll cry! on you!

[paucubarsisimp]

Hiii, girl! How you doin’?

I was wondering if you could write this for me? I’d love a story with a bit of angst…🙏

The reader has always been super talented with music, but barely anyone knows. After ending things with Pedri (though, honestly, it never even really started) she tries to avoid him. But she ends up going to a mutual friend’s birthday party… and surprise, he’s there too. During the party, a live band needs a female voice, and one of her friends, already hyped, calls her up to sing. The song? Fool’s Gold by One Direction, a perfect match for her story with Pedri. As she sings, their eyes meet, and the tension grows. Did he get the message?

Something like this! I’d LOVE to read a story with this vibe. You write so well 💖, do you think you could make this happen?

fool’s gold

pairing: pedri x reader

summary: in which fool’s gold is the perfect song to describe you and pedri

warnings: none

tagged: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

it’s funny how things always seem to work out in the most unexpected ways. you promised yourself you’d avoid him at all costs. it had been weeks since things ended with pedri, and while the relationship had barely started—just a few tentative dates, some awkward conversations—it still stung. it was the kind of ending where you never really knew what went wrong, but the silence afterward left you questioning everything.

when mica, your mutual friend, invited you to her birthday party, you almost declined immediately. how could you show up to a celebration and pretend everything was fine when the thought of seeing pedri again made your chest tighten? still, you couldn’t refuse. mica had no idea, and you weren’t about to make a scene. besides, what were the odds of him being there?

you stepped into the party, the laughter and chatter of your friends filling the air. everything felt familiar, warm, and yet… there was that feeling. the one you couldn’t quite shake. there he was. pedri. leaning casually against the wall, chatting with a couple of people, his dark hair falling just the right way, and that familiar smile that made your stomach do flips. even from across the room, he was impossible to ignore.

your heart skipped, and you quickly turned your focus to the snack table, as though the chips and dip could somehow shield you from him. you’d convinced yourself you could hide in the background, enjoy the party, and leave without any awkwardness. but fate had other plans.

minutes later, dani, your most excitable friend, bounded over to you. her cheeks flushed with the buzz of alcohol, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “hey, you have to come up and sing! the band needs a female voice for this song!”

you froze, a cold wave of panic washing over you. “dani, i don’t think—”

“come on, stop being shy!” she interrupted, already pulling you toward the stage. “you’re so good! i swear, you’ll kill it. plus, the song is perfect for you.”

you tried to protest, but she wasn’t having it. before you knew it, you were standing at the side of the stage, the microphone in your hand, a tight knot forming in your chest. the band struck up the opening chords of fool’s gold by one direction. a song you’d always secretly connected to your short-lived moments with pedri.

the thought of singing it in front of everyone, especially him, sent a tremor through you. it felt like some cruel twist of fate that you’d have to perform this song of bittersweet longing and uncertainty in the same room as the person who had unintentionally inspired it.

but the music started, and there was no turning back.

you closed your eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. you couldn’t look at him. you couldn’t. not now. not while your heart was hanging on every note. you started to sing, and the lyrics hit you harder than you expected. each word felt like a confession you hadn’t been brave enough to say when you had the chance.

the music swirled around you, and with every note, it felt as if the room shrank. as though everyone else had faded into the background and the only thing that mattered was you and pedri. you could feel his presence, even though you kept your eyes closed. but when you opened them again, you couldn’t stop yourself.

there he was. standing at the edge of the crowd, his gaze fixed on you. his expression was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes were intense. they were trained on you like nothing else existed in the world but the two of you. you swallowed hard, the weight of the song suddenly too much. it felt like the entire story of your brief time together was written in the music, in your voice. each verse held pieces of the unsaid things that had lingered between you.

your heart beat in time with the music, and you could feel the tension building. his gaze never wavered, and you wondered if he was hearing it the way you were—if he understood the message behind every word.

it felt like the song was speaking for you, telling him what you hadn’t been able to say. the last note lingered in the air, and you quickly looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. the applause that followed was distant, your heartbeat too loud in your ears. the room spun slightly, but you tried to ground yourself, to take a breath.

dani was the first to rush over, pulling you into a hug. “you were amazing!” she cheered, still buzzing from the performance. but her voice barely reached you. you could only think about how you’d just laid your heart bare, and how pedri had watched every single second of it.

and then, as if he could read your thoughts, you felt him approach from behind. his voice was soft, but it cut through the noise of the party. “you were incredible,” pedri said, his words wrapped in sincerity. “i didn’t know you could sing like that.”

you froze, a coldness spreading through you. “thanks,” you managed to say, your voice smaller than you intended.

“i didn’t know you were into one direction,” he continued, his tone light, as if trying to keep things casual, but there was an edge to his voice. was it curiosity? or maybe something else?

you chuckled dryly, turning to face him. “well, guess you didn’t know much about me,” you replied, trying to keep your composure, but the tension between you was undeniable. he stood a little too close, his dark eyes searching yours, like he was trying to decipher something you weren’t ready to reveal.

there was a pause—long and uncomfortable. the silence stretched between you like a heavy fog, neither of you quite sure what to say next. but the words that finally came out of his mouth were unexpected.

“maybe i should’ve.” pedri’s voice was quieter now, as though he was regretting something. something unsaid. something left behind.

you blinked, the weight of his words settling in. maybe i should’ve. you could feel it in your chest, the unspoken history between you two that had never been fully addressed. all the moments that had been left hanging in the air. everything that never had the chance to be said.

you didn’t reply immediately. instead, you studied him, your gaze catching his once more. the tension was still there, thick and palpable. you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. and as the party continued around you, the noise, the laughter, all of it seemed to fade. it was just the two of you, caught in this moment where nothing could be fully explained, but everything was understood.

he took a slow step closer, and for a second, you wondered if he was going to say something more. if he would finally break the silence and let you in, or if he would leave you hanging, just like everything else.

but this time, he didn’t. without a word, he gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. you didn’t have time to second-guess yourself. his lips were on yours before you could react—soft, slow, like he was testing the waters, waiting to see if you’d pull away. but you didn’t.

you kissed him back, your hand sliding up to rest on his chest, feeling the thump of his heartbeat under your palm. it was everything you had been holding back—the yearning, the desire, the pain. all of it collided in that one kiss, and in that moment, everything was finally put into place. the unanswered questions, the distance between you, the silence—none of it mattered anymore. all that mattered was this.

when you finally pulled away, breathless, pedri rested his forehead against yours. “i’ve missed you,” he whispered, his voice low, raw.

you couldn’t answer right away. your mind was still spinning from the kiss, but when you finally found your voice, all you could say was, “me too.”

he smiled softly, his fingers tracing your jaw. “then let’s not let this be fool’s gold, yeah?”

you nodded, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as lost as you thought.

[hotvintagepoll]

This is a three-way poll. Only one of these women will continue to the fourth round of the bracket.

Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Leonor Maia (The Tyrannical Father)— She didn't do a lot of movies but in The Tyrannical Father she is so pretty and charming that there's a guy who's obsessed with her to such a degree he is still a meme 80 years later. Her character's name is Tatão and the guy would stare at her whenever she was there and say her name to the tune of everything. A clock ticking: ta-tão, ta-tão, ta-tão. And to this day one of the lines people know the best from that very quotable movie is "ta-tão". She inspired crushes and horniness of legendary levels.

Louise Brooks (Pandora's Box, Diary of a Lost Girl)—Louise Brooks started off as a dancer and went to work in the Follies before going to Hollywood. Disappointed with her roles there, she went to Germany and proceeded to make Pandora's Box, the first film to show a lesbian on-screen (not her but one of her many doomed admirers in the film), and Diary of a Lost Girl, both of which are considered two of the greatest films of the 20th century. She helped popularize the bob and natural acting, acting far more subtly than her contemporaries who treated the camera as a stage audience. After the collapse of her film career and a remarkably rough patch as a high-end sex worker, she was rediscovered and did film criticism, notably "Lulu in Hollywood," which Rodger Ebert called "indispensable." Also, christ. Look at her.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

There is no additional propaganda for Leonor Maia.

Louise Brooks:

"Defined the style of the modern flapper. A gaze that could make a stone fall in love."

"Louise Brooks left a legend far greater than her real achievement as an actress, but even today few people have seen her films. In our own time, the fascination with Brooks seems to have begun in 1979 with a profile by Kenneth Tynan in the New Yorker, which revealed that the actress who made her last movie in 1938 was alive and living in Rochester, N.Y. Such was the power of Tynan's prose that people began to seek out her existing films, primarily this one, to discover what the fuss was about. What we see here is a healthy young woman -- she was 23 when the film was released -- with whom the camera, under G.W. Pabst's influence, is fascinated. There is a deep paradox in Brooks and her career: the American girl who found success in the troubled Europe between two wars; the vivid personality who briefly dazzled two continents but faded into obscurity; the liberated woman who had affairs with such prominent men as CBS founder William S. Paley as well as with women including (by her account) Greta Garbo but wound up a solitary recluse. And all of this seems perfectly in keeping with her most celebrated role in Pandora's Box. For despite her bright vitality, her flashing dark eyes and brilliant smile, Brooks's Lulu becomes the ultimate femme fatale, careering her way toward destruction, not only of her lovers but eventually of herself."

"She invented having bangs to indicate that you have borderline personality disorder"

"chances are if youve ever seen a "flapper girl" character or even just art of a generic flapper type made after the 20s it was based on her appearance - particularly the bob hairstyle! she had some pretty rough experiences through her life before during and after her tumultuous acting career which ended in 1938 but she made it to the 80s, wrote an autobiography and did a lot of interviews that she was never afraid of being honest in about her own life or peers of the age, and apparently was unabashed about some affairs she had with well known women (including greta garbo!!)"

"She read Proust and Schopenhauer on set between sets. She was one of the original flappers/new women of the 1920s. She had a one night stand with Garbo and was the inspiration for Sally Bowles in Cabaret. Truly a stone cold fox."

"on her wikipedia page it says her biographer said she "loved women as a homosexual man, rather than as a lesbian, would love them" and while i have no idea if this is true or not i thought that was very gender of her"

"despite being american she was big in german expressionist films and thus her aesthetic was unmatched!!"

So far ahead of her time in regard to portraying complicated women. Timeless elegance. "I learned to act by watching Martha Graham dance, and I learned to dance by watching Charlie Chaplin act.” - Louise Brooks

[ellewritesss]

To Jay, With Love...

Pairing: Park Jay (ENHYPEN) x Han Y/N (OC/Fan) Genre: Idol x Fan, Slow Burn, Emotional, Romance, Possible smut?? Warning: None Word Count: 10k+

Han Y/N, who has supported Jay since I-LAND. For the first time in her fangirl life, she goes to watch ENHYPEN on stage at Coachella. Things are going well for her, the admiration she has for Jay has been going strong. But with the letter in her hand, handed over to the staff to be given to Jay, she piqued his interest. But before Jay could even get the chance to see her, she was gone, leaving Jay with curiosity and wonder if she'll ever send him a letter again or if he'll see her ever.. But how will he know if it's you? You only left your initials on the letter.. "H.G", no picture, no full name, no insta usernames like the others…

The sun blazed over the golden desert horizon, casting a warm glow over the pulsating heart of Coachella. Music echoed across the festival grounds, each beat thudding in sync with the excited hearts of thousands of fans from around the globe.

Y/N had never imagined herself standing here—sand crunching under her shoes, her hands trembling as she clutched the lightstick tightly, eyes locked onto the stage that was about to light up. Her heart wasn’t just racing from excitement. It was something more—something she had carried inside her since 2020.

Jay.

Park Jongseong. The boy who smiled through hardships on I-LAND, who danced like the stage was his home, and who spoke with a sincerity that reached through the screen. Y/N had watched him grow, fall, rise, and shine. And now… he was right there. Just minutes away.

"Y/N! It’s starting!" her friend Jiyeon nudged her, barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

Y/N nodded, her eyes wide and shimmering, her other hand reaching into her small crossbody bag where a folded letter rested. She had spent days writing it—pouring her admiration and silent affection into words she never imagined he’d read. It wasn’t romantic, not really… or maybe it was. But it was honest. Raw.

The stage went dark. The crowd screamed. Then—

BOOM!

Lights erupted, the first beats of ENHYPEN’s opening song thundering across the festival. Y/N screamed along with the others, her eyes finding Jay instantly. He was glowing. Not just because of the spotlights or the glitter on his cheekbones—but because he was him. Her Jay. Her inspiration.

The way he moved, smiled, interacted with the others—it was everything she dreamed of and more. And yet, a bittersweet feeling coiled in her chest.

This was the closest she’d ever been… and yet she was still just one face in the crowd.

Later that evening...

Y/N, with a cap adn a mask to cover her face, handed the envelope to the staff just as the final fireworks exploded above. Her heart pounded with a mix of fear and hope.

“Excuse me? Will… will you give this to one of them? Uhm... To Jay?” she asked, eyes pleading.

The staff nodded with a smile. “We’ll do our best.”

She whispered a soft “thank you,” then turned and disappeared into the sea of fans heading toward the exits. Her flight back to Seoul was in ten hours... She left with the hopes that it'll reach Jay..

Backstage, the adrenaline of the performance still evident,

Jay wiped sweat from his brow as he downed a water bottle. The adrenaline was still coursing through him, the cheers of the crowd echoing in his mind.

“That was insane,” Jake said, breathless, throwing an arm over Sunghoon’s shoulders.

Heeseung nodded. “I think that’s the loudest I’ve ever heard an international crowd.”

Jay smiled, proud. But as the others laughed and chatted, he found himself drifting to the side, alone for a moment. His gaze flicked toward the direction of the crowd, something tugging at him. Like he’d missed something important.

A staff member approached with a small envelope in hand.

“Jay, a fan gave this to us. We checked it a bit, no photo or contact info… just said it was for you.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “No name?”

The staff shrugged. “Only initials. ‘H.G.’”

Jay took the letter slowly, staring at the handwriting on the front. Neat, feminine… careful. For some reason, his heartbeat quickened. Something about it felt personal.

He opened the letter carefully, unfolding the cream paper that still smelled faintly of lavender. His eyes scanned the opening lines, and before he could stop it, the world around him faded out.

Dear Jay,

You don’t know me. And maybe you never will. But I’ve known you since the day you stood on that I-LAND stage with uncertainty in your eyes and fire in your heart. I watched you fight, fall, get back up again, and become someone who shines so brightly that even through my screen, I felt it.

You’ve inspired me in ways I can’t explain. In dark days, your voice was my light. In moments when I doubted myself, your words reminded me I was enough. You don’t know me, Jay—but you’ve saved me in ways you’ll never know.

I don't want anything from you. I just wanted to say thank you.

— Yours, always cheering from afar, H.G.

Jay blinked, swallowing hard. He read it again. And again.

Something about this letter felt different from the dozens of fan letters he’d read before. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t a confession or filled with requests for attention. It was quiet. Honest. Sincere.

He flipped it over—no contact. No social media handle. No picture. Just those two letters: H.G.

“Who are you…?” he whispered.

After Coachella, the soft hum of the hotel’s air conditioning was barely enough to fill the silence that had taken over the ENHYPEN suite. The festival buzz still lingered in their limbs—sore muscles from hours of performance, minds hazy with adrenaline and lingering awe. But for Jay, the whirlwind hadn’t stopped. Not even close.

He sat on the edge of his hotel bed, the letter unfolded in his hands again. The others had retreated to the common area after dinner, sprawled across the couch, mindlessly watching Netflix or scrolling through their phones.

Jay, however, had read the letter six times already.

Seven, now.

It wasn’t just the words that lingered—it was the feeling. A strange comfort. A familiarity that didn’t make sense. Whoever H.G. was, she had seen a version of him that even he had hidden away sometimes.

He traced the edge of the paper with his thumb.

Still no picture. Still no name. Still… just H.G.

His brows furrowed, lost in thought, when a soft knock on the doorframe startled him.

Jake leaned against it, a towel draped over his shoulder, hair still wet from a post-show shower. “You okay, man? You’ve been staring at that thing like it holds the secrets of the universe.”

Jay looked up, blinking. “Yeah, sorry. Just… thinking.”

Jake stepped into the room, peeking at the paper. “Still that letter?”

Jay nodded.

Jake tilted his head. “You wanna talk about it?”

Jay hesitated, then patted the space beside him. Jake didn’t need further invitation and dropped down beside him, resting his elbows on his knees. Jay passed the letter over.

Jake read it slowly, the way Jay had. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds after finishing, but his face shifted—something soft and thoughtful blooming across his features.

“This is… wow. She really poured her heart into this.”

Jay nodded silently.

“You said there’s no contact info?”

“None. Just her initials. H.G.”

Jake leaned back, lips pursed. “It’s kind of romantic, actually. Mysterious fan girl leaves a heartfelt letter, disappears into the night…”

Jay chuckled dryly. “It’s driving me crazy.”

Jake smiled. “I get it. Feels like she actually knows you, huh? Like the real you.”

Jay nodded again. “I’ve read thousands of letters over the years. They’re always sweet, supportive. But this one… it’s different. It’s not about ENHYPEN. It’s not about the fame or our success. It’s just… me.”

Jake leaned forward, thoughtful. “What if she doesn’t want to be found?”

Jay stared at the floor. That had crossed his mind more than once.

“But what if she does?” he murmured.

Sunghoon was the first to notice the two returning.

Jay held the letter again, now carefully folded, and Jake had that look on his face that said he knows something now.

“Alright, spill,” Sunghoon said, sitting up. “What’s the deal with the letter?”

The others turned their attention toward them. Heeseung muted the TV. Jungwon raised an eyebrow, and Ni-ki tilted his head curiously.

Jay sighed and flopped into the armchair, resting the letter on the table in front of him like it was a sacred artifact.

“I think I’m obsessed with someone I’ve never met.”

The room fell silent for a beat.

Then Sunoo laughed. “Okay, dramatic much?”

“No, seriously,” Jay said, rubbing the back of his neck. “This letter—it’s from a fan. She didn’t sign her name, didn’t leave a handle. Just her initials: H.G.”

Heeseung sat up, intrigued. “So what’s in it?”

Jay passed it around. One by one, the members read it quietly, and the mood in the room shifted again. What started as light teasing melted into genuine interest.

“That’s… really well-written,” Sunghoon said quietly.

“It feels personal,” Jungwon added. “Like she knows you. Not the idol you. Just… you.”

“Exactly,” Jay said, voice soft. “And I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Like—who she is, what she looks like, if she’s okay…”

Sunoo tapped his chin. “Do you think she’s a long-time fan?”

“From what she wrote? Yeah,” Jay nodded. “She mentioned I-LAND. And she described things that only someone who’s followed me for a while would know.”

Ni-ki, the youngest, looked thoughtful. “Why didn’t she leave anything? Fans usually want us to notice them.”

“Maybe she didn’t want anything,” Jake offered. “Maybe that was her way of saying goodbye.”

Jay’s jaw tightened slightly. The idea unsettled him.

“But what if it wasn’t?” he argued. “What if she was just scared? Or shy? Or thought she wasn’t worthy of being known?”

“Or,” Heeseung said gently, “she wanted to leave a part of herself without expecting anything back. That kind of vulnerability is rare.”

Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to let it go.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, tapping the table. “So… what are you gonna do? Post a story? Ask fans to come forward?”

Jay shook his head. “No. That’s the thing. If I do that, I might scare her off. If she didn’t want to be known publicly, the worst thing I could do is call attention to it.”

“So what?” Jungwon asked. “You’re just going to wait?”

Jay nodded slowly. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll mention it subtly in interviews. Or lives. Nothing obvious. Just… enough that if she’s out there and she hears it, she’ll know I’m talking to her.”

The room went quiet again, but this time it was a quiet understanding.

“Okay,” Sunoo said, nodding. “We’ll help.”

Jay looked up.

“If you ever mention her, we’ve got your back,” Sunghoon added with a grin.

Jake bumped shoulders with him. “Operation Find H.G.”

Jay laughed softly, touched by their support. “Thanks, guys. I know it sounds silly, but…”

“It doesn’t,” Heeseung interrupted. “It doesn’t sound silly at all.”

Jungwon smiled. “You never know, hyung. Maybe she’s watching.”

Jay stared at the letter one more time before folding it neatly and slipping it into his journal.

I hope so, he thought.

A week later..

Y/N sat in her room, scrolling through Twitter when a clip from a recent ENHYPEN interview popped up on her feed. It wasn’t live—it had been pre-recorded shortly after Coachella—but it had just aired.

The boys were talking about their Coachella experience.

“What was the most memorable moment?” the interviewer asked.

Sunghoon said something about the crowd.

Jungwon mentioned the heat.

Then the camera cut to Jay.

“There was… a moment I’ll never forget,” he said, and Y/N froze.

He smiled softly, almost wistfully. “Someone left me a letter. No name, no picture. Just initials.. H.G. It was the most beautiful letter I’ve ever received. I just… I hope she’s doing okay. And I hope she knows I read it. More than once.”

Y/N’s heart stopped.

Her breath caught in her throat.

That was her letter.

The one she thought he’d never see.

The one she thought would fade into the crowd like she did.

And he… remembered.

ENGENE Twitter - Worldwide Trends JayAndH.G 🔥 “I hope she’s doing okay.” Mystery Letter Girl Jay’s Soft Side 🥺 Who is H.G.? Is this a fanfic or real life??

The interview had only been out for three hours, but the ENGENE fandom was already spiraling.

Clips of Jay’s statement had been clipped, subtitled, analyzed, slowed down, looped with soft background music, and edited with fanart popping up from left to right. The moment he mentioned a mysterious letter with “no name, no picture, just initials—H.G.”, chaos ensued.

@jjaylvr: wait a damn MINUTE. who is she??? @enhypenjayfangirl: the way his voice got soft… I’m gonna cry 😭 @hgstandacc: I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE, I’M H.G. @enhacollective: i just know jay’s been rereading that letter every night and sighing at his window like a kdrama lead @soulmate4jay: imagine writing ONE LETTER and he can’t stop thinking about you. h.g., bestie. reveal yourself. @enhypenthoughts: watch this turn into a real-life love story. we are LIVING through a fanfic.

Speculation ran wild. Some fans started detective threads trying to figure out who H.G. could be. Theories ranged from backstage staff to fansites to a fan with a secret Instagram.

But the only real clue was… her initials.

Just H.G.

Back at her apartment, Y/N stared at the screen, her chest a mess of chaos.

Her letter. Her words. A private, trembling part of her soul that she had poured onto paper—never expecting to be heard—had somehow reached him.

Not only did Jay read it.

He remembered it.

Talked about it.

Looked into the camera like maybe, just maybe, he was talking directly to her.

Her fingers hovered above her keyboard, unsure of what to do. Every part of her wanted to scream, “It’s me! I’m H.G.!” But fear… fear clenched its hands around her heart.

What if people hated her for it?

What if he didn’t like what he saw if they ever met?

What if she’d ruined the magic by being too… ordinary?

She sighed and pulled her blanket over her head.

Her phone vibrated with a message.

Jiyeon [Staff Noona 💼💛] “Hey, did you see the interview? 👀”

Y/N blinked. She hadn’t told Jiyeon she was the one who left the letter.

She typed back carefully.

Y/N: “Yeah… it was sweet.” “Do you think it’s real?”

Jiyeon replied instantly.

Jiyeon: “Very real. He asked the staff if anyone remembered who gave him the letter. You made an impression, H.G.” 👀👀👀

Y/N’s heart jumped into her throat.

Y/N: “…How do you know it was me?”

Jiyeon: “Come on, Y/N. You handed it to one of our staff members with your hands shaking like a leaf. And you left right after the show ended.That wasn’t just nerves. That was a goodbye.”

Y/N: “I didn’t think he’d actually… read it.”

Jiyeon: “He did. And he’s been thinking about it. About you.”

Meanwhile, at the dorms, the

members were all gathered in the living room again, scrolling through their phones while Jay quietly stared out the window, headphones in.

Heeseung laughed, reading a tweet aloud.

“‘Jay is probably sitting on his balcony right now writing poetry about H.G.’ Honestly, are they wrong?”

Jake snorted. “They’re really turning this into a full-on rom-com.”

Sunoo waved his phone dramatically. “I’m telling you, if she ever shows up, I’m going to sob. Like, full-on ugly cry.”

Jungwon added thoughtfully, “She probably saw it by now. The interview. If she’s really been a fan since I-LAND… she definitely saw it.”

Jay turned slightly, pulling his headphones off. “I hope so.”

Sunghoon looked at him. “You still thinking about her?”

Jay nodded slowly. “I can’t explain it. I just… I don’t want it to end like this. A mystery.”

Ni-ki asked quietly, “What would you say to her? If she was right in front of you?”

Jay was quiet for a long moment.

Then he exhaled and said, “I’d tell her thank you. For seeing me. For writing something so raw and honest. I’d tell her I wish she stayed. Because I would’ve wanted to know her.”

Sunoo clutched a pillow dramatically. “That’s it. I’m shipping it.”

Jake grinned. “You hear that, H.G.? If you’re out there, he wants to know you.”

Later that night...

It was unannounced. Lowkey. Just a chill live at 1:12 AM Korean time. No special lighting, no filters—just Jay in a hoodie, sitting on his bed, a mug of tea in his hand.

Fans trickled in fast.

“JAY LIVE OMGGG” “he looks so cozy 🥺” “talk to us about h.g. 😭”

He chuckled at the flood of comments, eyes scanning them quietly.

“I wasn’t planning to go live,” he said, voice soft. “But I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

A pause.

“About Coachella.”

The chat exploded.

Jay smiled faintly, as if he could hear the squeals through the screen.

“I wasn’t expecting to find anything like that. You guys always give us letters and gifts, and we appreciate them more than you know. But this one…” His eyes dropped. “It stayed with me.”

He looked up again, gaze steady but warm.

“She didn’t leave her name. No socials. Just her initials—H.G. And somehow, those two letters have been living in my head since that night.”

His voice grew quieter.

“I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this. Or if you’re even watching. But if you are… I meant what I said in the interview.”

“I hope you’re okay.”

He gave the camera a small smile, soft and sincere.

“And… I hope someday you’ll let me know who you are.”

The screen filled with hearts, fans flooding the chat.

“crying rn.” “this is like a K-drama i swear” “H.G. reveal urself we won’t bite 😭” “imagine being H.G. right now???”

But one viewer didn’t comment.

One viewer just watched silently, her fingers frozen over the keyboard.

Heart pounding.

Tears in her eyes.

Because he was talking to her.

She didn't what's gotten into her that she attended the fanmeet... This venue was buzzing with curious fans..

Lightsticks glowed in soft blue hues, voices echoed with excitement, and the energy was electric. For many ENGENEs, this was the first in-person fanmeet since Coachella—and after that viral interview moment where Jay had mentioned the mysterious H.G., curiosity was at an all-time high.

Fans came in cosplay. Some wore “H.G. WHERE YOU AT?” shirts. Others carried signs like:

“Jay, I’m not H.G., but I can be your P.G. (Pretty Girlfriend)” “Dear H.G., pls reveal urself. We need closure 😭”

Backstage, the boys were doing final checks. Jungwon adjusted his mic, while Jake tried not to laugh at the fansigns he could see from the slit in the curtain.

“Someone literally brought a banner that says ‘Jay + H.G. = Endgame’,” Jake smirked.

Sunghoon snorted. “You started a fanfic, bro, and now they’re writing it for you.”

Jay rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t do anything. I just answered honestly.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Sunoo teased. “But you felt something. Admit it.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung chimed in, mock-serious. “You’ve got H.G. Brain Syndrome. Highly contagious. Symptoms include staring out windows and talking to the moon.”

Ni-ki poked his head into the circle. “You think she’s here?”

The room went quiet.

Jay blinked. “Why would she be?”

“Because if I were her,” Ni-ki shrugged, “I’d come. Just to see how much you’ve been thinking about me.”

Jay chuckled nervously, tugging on his hoodie strings. “That’s assuming she wants to be found.”

The boys came on stage, greeted by a wave of cheers that shook the walls. They did a performance medley, played games, and answered questions from a huge clear box filled with folded papers submitted by fans earlier.

Jungwon reached in first. “Okay, next question… ‘If you could switch lives with another member for a day, who would it be and why?’”

The usual laughter followed.

Then Sunghoon picked one. “This one says, ‘To Jay-oppa: If H.G. walked into the room right now, what would you do?’”

The crowd screamed.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “Uh… I’d probably freeze. Then hope I don’t mess up whatever I say next.”

“THAT’S your plan?” Jake laughed. “Bro, she poured her soul into a letter and you’re gonna ‘freeze’?”

Jay shrugged. “You try being articulate when someone makes your heart do backflips.”

Y/N sat in row 3, section B. Her heart hadn’t slowed down since she walked in. She wore a hat and glasses—nothing suspicious, just enough to blend in. The idea of meeting Jay face-to-face had her stomach in knots.

You’re not doing anything wrong, she reminded herself. You’re just another fan.

But she knew it wasn’t true. Not really.

Not after that letter.

And especially not after what he said about it.

When her number was called for the 1-on-1 segment, her hands trembled. She had spoken with idols before, at past fanmeets, but this was… different. This wasn’t any idol.

This was him.

Heeseung was first.

“Hi!” he smiled warmly. “You look a little nervous.”

“I—I’m okay,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

“You from Korea?”

“I live here now. But I’m not originally from here.”

“Ooh, cool. That’s like, H.G.-vibes.”

Y/N froze. “Huh?”

“Oh,” he laughed, “Don’t mind me. We’ve all got H.G. on the brain lately. Jay’s turning into a whole poet.”

He winked and handed her a signed card. “Nice meeting you.”

She moved on.

Jake was next.

He leaned in. “Have we met before?”

Y/N blinked. “I don’t think so.”

“Huh. You seem… familiar.”

She gave a nervous smile. “I get that a lot.”

Jake studied her eyes, then grinned. “Well, thanks for coming. You’ve got this quiet energy about you. Mysterious. Jay would love that.”

Stop mentioning him, she wanted to say, heart racing.

But it was too late. The next table was— Jay...

Jay’s line had been steadily busy. Most fans brought up H.G.—the mysterious fan who wrote to him after Coachella. He’d heard variations of the same question at least fifty times by now.

“Oppa, who is H.G.?”

“Have you found her?”

“What if she’s here today?”

Jay kept smiling through them all, teasing his fans back, replying with, “Maybe I’ll just know when I see her.” But so far… he hadn’t.

That was until she appeared again.

The girl from earlier. The one with soft eyes and trembling fingers. The one who gave the name Y/N.

She stepped forward now with a tentative smile, holding her album close to her chest like a secret. She was a little more relaxed this time, but still had that hesitant energy—like someone who wasn’t used to being noticed.

Jay straightened up slightly, something shifting in his expression the second their eyes met again.

“You came back.” Jay said, Y/N laughed nervously as she didn't expect Jay to remember her from last time's fanmeeting.

“I didn’t want to leave without hearing you say something cheesy directly.”

“Oh, I have plenty of cheesy lines. But only for special fans.” Jay said while grinning widely.

He signed the page in her album with practiced ease, but his eyes flicked up often, watching her. Reading her.

“Special, huh? How does one qualify for that?” Y/N asked curiously.

“Well, writing a mysterious letter and disappearing like a K-drama heroine usually does it.” Her breath hitched—but only for a fraction of a second.

“Sounds like this H.G. person made quite the impression.” Y/N answered, but chills are running down her veins.

“She did. Still thinking about her, actually.”

Y/N nodded slowly, gaze lowering.

Jay tilted his head, pushing the moment just a little further. “If you were H.G., what would you want me to know?”

She bit her lip. Her hand, now resting near the signed album, clenched slightly.

Then she looked up and said, with a small, almost wistful smile, “I don’t know… maybe she doesn’t want you to find her. Maybe she just wants to keep admiring you from afar… where it’s safe.”

Jay froze—not outwardly, not in an obvious way—but something behind his eyes shifted. His pen paused mid-flourish. “…That’s very specific.” Jay quietly said.

“Huh?”

“That sounded a little too personal. Are you H.G.?” Jay teased.

Y/N’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing instantly. “N-No! I—I mean, I’m just… making a guess. That’s how I’d feel if I were her. But I’m not. Totally not.”

Jay laughed softly, shaking his head with playful disbelief. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you off the hook—for now.”

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel like a secret between them.

“But if you were her… I hope you know she doesn’t have to stay hidden.”

Y/N stared at him for a second, lips parted, heart thudding so hard she could hear it in her ears. “Maybe she’s just scared that if she shows up… it’ll all change.”

That silenced him.

Not because he didn’t know what to say—but because it hit something inside him. Something real. Something raw.

For the first time in a long time, Jay wasn’t Park Jay from ENHYPEN. He wasn’t the idol or the performer or the face in someone’s wallpaper. He was just a boy at a table, talking to someone who seemed to see him.

He looked at her again—closer now. There was that tug. The feeling in his chest he felt at Coachella, standing under the golden lights holding a letter with no name.

“Change isn’t always bad, you know.” Y/N opened her mouth, but a staff member gently tapped her shoulder. Time was up.

She gave a small bow and a soft smile, clutching her signed album to her chest.

As she turned to leave, Jay couldn’t help it.

He called out softly—just for her:

“Y/N…” She turned around.

“If you ever decide to stop admiring from afar… I’ll be here.”

Y/N’s throat closed up.

She managed a small nod and whispered, “Okay.”

And then she was gone again.

Jay signed a few more albums, nodded to more fans—but his mind wasn’t in it anymore.

Not fully.

That girl. That Y/N.

She had said something only someone who knew could have said.

She said it in a way that didn’t sound like theory. It sounded like truth.

He tapped his pen against the table, eyes trailing to where she had walked away.

“...You are her. Aren’t you?” Jay said to himself.

The night after the fanmeet, the ENHYPEN dorms were unusually quiet. While the other members chatted or watched TV, Jay sat on the edge of his hotel bed, staring at his iPad, his thoughts a tangled mess of curiosity and certainty. The signed albums stacked neatly on the desk reminded him of the blur of faces he’d seen that day—smiles, nervous giggles, and declarations of love—but only one lingered in his mind.

Y/N.

Or maybe... H.G.

That line she said, still echoed in his head like a whisper he couldn’t forget: “Maybe she just wants to keep admiring you from afar… where it’s safe.” It didn’t sound like a generic comment. It felt personal. Intentional. Like something straight out of the letter he’d read so many times he’d practically memorized it.

Jay hesitated before opening a folder the staff had shared with them for feedback and post-event connection—"Fanmeet 2025 - Individual Interactions." He never really opened these. It felt like crossing a line. But this time, he had a reason. His heart beat faster as he scrolled to the mid-afternoon entries. Her face flashed in his mind again—quiet, nervous, but with a smile that softened him in a way nothing else had recently.

Then he saw it. Fan #184 – Han Y/N. No social media handle, no personal notes—just a line in the comment section: “Very soft-spoken. Came twice. Seemed familiar?” His breath caught in his throat as he tapped the accompanying image. It was slightly grainy, just a quick capture by the staff photographer, but it was her.

The next morning, Jay was uncharacteristically quiet during breakfast. He pushed a croissant around his plate, lost in thought, barely noticing the teasing looks the other members were throwing his way. Heeseung, ever the observant one, tilted his head. “You didn’t sleep again?” he asked. Jay just shrugged. Jake caught on instantly, smirking. “Still on that H.G. quest?” Sunghoon’s eyes widened dramatically. “Wait, did Jay actually like someone?” The others burst into laughter, and Sunoo added with a grin, “Are we finally getting to witness Jay’s soft-boy era?”

Jay tried to shut them down with a glare, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him. Jungwon leaned forward, more curious than teasing now. “She really got to you, huh?” Jay didn’t answer, but the silence said more than words.

Later that day, he sat with Jake and Sunoo in the lounge, all of them mindlessly scrolling through their phones. Trying to sound casual, Jay asked, “You think fans might’ve posted videos of the fanmeet?” Sunoo gave him a look. “Uh, yeah. Thousands.” Jay tried to clarify, “Like... from our table. Up close?”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You’re actually trying to find her, aren’t you?”

Jay didn’t reply. He just opened Twitter and searched a string of hashtags: #ENHYPENFanmeet #ENHYPENJayFanmeet #JayHGFan. It didn’t take long—fan-edited clips flooded the screen. He scrolled through them until one caught his eye: “Jay smiling at a fan like he just found his muse 😭❤️.”

His heart stopped. It was her.

In the clip, Y/N looked nervous, clutching her album. She said something, and the way his own expression softened on camera made his stomach twist. He hadn’t realized how obvious he looked. Jake leaned over and let out a low whistle. “Dude… you definitely looked like you were flirting.” Sunoo chimed in without missing a beat, “Or imprinting.”

But it was the fan comments that shook him.

“Wait. Did anyone else notice Jay kept staring at that one fan??” “He definitely reacted to something she said. Who IS she??” “WHAT IF SHE’S H.G.????”

The buzz picked up fast. Jay knew fans were perceptive—but the speed at which they started connecting the dots surprised even him. It was both overwhelming and thrilling.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Jay made a subtle post on Weverse. Not enough to reveal anything—but just enough.

[JAY] Sometimes we think hiding is safer. But maybe… being found wouldn’t be so bad. #JustAThought

The fandom lost it.

“OH MY GOD IS THIS ABOUT H.G.???” “Jay if you’re reading this blink twice if Y/N = H.G.” “Somebody find this girl. I can’t sleep until they reunite.”

Days passed, and the search only intensified. Then, ENHYPEN dropped a new Behind-the-Scenes video from the fanmeet. It showed them getting ready backstage, signing albums, and laughing amongst themselves. At one point, the camera caught Jay reading a pile of fan notes. Ni-ki passed by and teasingly said, “Jay-hyung, still waiting for H.G.?” Jay, caught off guard, smiled and muttered, “Maybe she already came.”

The editors left the moment in—subtitled in bold yellow. Clear as day.

It sent fans into another frenzy.

“HE SAID IT. HE THINKS SHE CAME. THIS IS REAL.” “Imagine being her and watching this rn 😭😭😭” “This is like a fanfic unfolding in real life.”

Jay sat in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. He’d dropped enough clues now. Left breadcrumbs on Weverse, slipped lines into interviews, and even let his guard down in front of the camera. He wasn’t usually one to chase—he liked staying composed, mysterious.

But with her?

He didn’t mind being vulnerable.

Because the truth was simple: she had seen him long before the spotlight did. Back when he was just a hopeful trainee on I-LAND. Her words still lived in his head, still gave him comfort on the hard days. He had to find her—not because it was romantic, not because it was a game. But because she had always seen the version of himself he feared no one would.

And for once, he was ready to be seen.

The Coachella buzz may have passed, but a new mystery had taken over the fandom: Who is H.G.?

A few weeks after the fanmeet, ENHYPEN sat down for a special interview segment with a well-known music magazine in Seoul. The theme was "From Coachella to Comeback: ENHYPEN Unfiltered," and fans were already bracing themselves for behind-the-scenes stories. Little did they know, they'd also be getting subtle invitations—and a very specific message.

The interview began lighthearted, as always. The group sat casually in a semi-circle—Jay with his legs crossed and fingers interlaced, Jake lounging beside Heeseung, and Sunoo perched with a mischievous grin, clearly waiting to stir chaos.

“So,” the host smiled, “Coachella was a huge deal. You guys had fans flying in from all over the world. Was there anything—or anyone—that stood out to you?”

The boys shared knowing looks. Jungwon chuckled first.

“Oh, there were so many memorable moments,” he said carefully. “Like fans holding up banners in the middle of the crowd even when it was super hot.”

“Or that one fan who gave Sunghoon a stuffed penguin wearing sunglasses,” Sunoo chimed in. The group laughed.

Then Heeseung, ever the subtle one, added, “And of course… Jay had a moment too.”

Jay glanced sideways. “What moment?”

Heeseung smirked. “You know which one.”

Jake leaned forward. “There’s been a lot of speculation. Should we tell them, hyung?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

The host raised a brow. “Speculation?”

“About someone named H.G.,” Sunghoon said nonchalantly, spinning his water bottle. “I think fans are putting together a whole drama about her.”

“Oh, it’s beyond a drama now,” Sunoo jumped in. “It’s practically a K-drama, Webtoon, and OST playlist all in one.”

Jay sighed softly, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “They’re just guessing.”

The host was curious now. “Is this a real person or…?”

“She’s real,” Jay said after a beat, surprising even the members with his sincerity. His voice lowered. “I just don’t know where she is.”

The room fell silent for a second. The host blinked. “You mean… you’re actually looking for her?”

Jay nodded slowly. “Yeah. She left a letter. No name, no contact info. Just initials.”

“And Jay’s been mysterious ever since,” Jungwon teased, though his eyes were gentle.

Jake added, “Actually, if H.G. is watching this—we’d all like to say something to you.”

The camera angle zoomed in slightly as one by one, the members took turns:

Jake: “Hey H.G., if you're out there… you should know Jay hasn’t stopped thinking about your letter. It really meant a lot to him.”

Sunghoon: “He read it, like, ten times in one night. I’m serious. Even the part where you said you don’t expect him to notice.”

Sunoo: “But he did notice. And now, the whole fandom is invested, so no pressure!” He laughed, then grew softer. “But really, we hope you’re doing okay.”

Heeseung: “Sometimes words find the right person at the right time. I think yours did.”

Jungwon: “And if you’re scared or unsure about coming forward… just know we’d all welcome you.”

Then it was Jay’s turn. He looked down for a second, thumb brushing the edge of his sleeve, before meeting the camera directly. His gaze was steady, voice low but rich with emotion.

Jay: “Hi, H.G. If this somehow reaches you… thank you. For everything you wrote. You said you’ve supported me since I-LAND, and honestly… that still amazes me. You saw me at my most vulnerable. Before everything. I don’t know why you left so quietly. But I hope it’s not because you think you don’t matter. You do. I hope one day, you’ll come out from wherever you’re hiding and let me thank you properly. Even if it’s just as a fan. Even if it’s just for a moment. We still haven’t met properly. But… I’m waiting.”

The room was completely still when he finished. The members exchanged glances, proud and a little surprised by Jay’s uncharacteristic openness. The host swallowed a lump in her throat. “That was beautiful.”

Within hours of the interview airing, the internet exploded.

“Jay really said ‘I’m waiting’ with those puppy eyes 😭” “If H.G. doesn’t show up soon I WILL 😤” “This is the softest thing I’ve ever seen. Jay, you’re such a romantic.” “The way the whole group is in on this now… my heart 💔” “What if she watched this and cried?? H.G., girl, COME HOME.”

Hashtags began trending:

#FindHG #JayIsWaiting #ENHYPENxH.G

Even non-fans were drawn to the story. Clips of Jay’s message went viral on TikTok and Twitter, racking up millions of views. People began speculating more, sleuthing harder—matching every quiet fan video to that moment in the fanmeet. Someone even started a petition titled “Let Jay Meet H.G. IRL.”

Fans made edits pairing Jay’s message with soft piano music, spliced with scenes from I-LAND and Coachella—showing his journey, her silent support, and the invisible thread that tied them together.

Meanwhile, back in the dorm, Jay sat in front of his laptop, watching the chaos unfold.

He wasn’t used to letting fans in this much. He had always been careful, protective of his privacy, of his heart.

But H.G. had somehow slipped past all his walls—with just her words.

He didn’t know if she’d ever show herself.

But now, at least, she knew one thing for certain:

He was looking.

And he wasn’t alone.

Y/N hadn’t meant to watch the interview. In fact, she’d spent the last few weeks intentionally avoiding anything ENHYPEN-related, which was ironic considering they used to be her entire world. But curiosity has a way of finding cracks in even the strongest of walls, and when she opened Twitter that morning, there it was—#JayIsWaiting trending worldwide.

Her heart dropped before she even knew what it was about.

She clicked.

And there he was.

Jay, sitting under soft lights in a studio with the members around him, speaking gently into the camera like he was talking only to her. The moment his voice hit her ears, Y/N froze. Her hands trembled, eyes locked to the screen. She watched the entire interview with her fingers clenched in her hoodie, trying not to let the tears fall. Trying not to hope.

“Hi, H.G. If this somehow reaches you… thank you.”

Her breath caught. Her screen blurred.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until the fabric of her sleeve was wet.

He was waiting for her.

Not just remembering her letter, not just moved by it—but waiting.

And not just him. The members had joined in. They all knew about her now. Her quiet confession had grown wings, flown across oceans, and landed on their laps like something sacred. She thought she could disappear. That she could hand over her heart and vanish, and no one would ever notice.

But he noticed.

And now he was searching.

That night, Y/N didn’t sleep. The city outside her window faded into silence, but her thoughts only grew louder. Was it a mistake to write that letter? Should she have signed it fully? Left a contact? What was she so afraid of?

The truth was, she wasn’t afraid of Jay not noticing her.

She was afraid that he would.

That he’d see her—plain, ordinary Han Y/N, the girl who watched from the back of the crowd, who’d loved him quietly since I-LAND—and be disappointed. Because fantasy was easier than reality. Admiring him from afar was safe. He couldn’t reject her if he didn’t know her.

But now… now he was hoping. And it tore her in two.

Sometime around 3 a.m., Y/N sat down at her small desk, the soft hum of the heater the only sound in her apartment. She opened her notebook—the same one where she had drafted the first letter months ago—and flipped to a fresh page.

She stared at it for a long time.

Then, slowly, she began to write.

Dear Jay,

I watched the interview. I didn’t mean to. I was trying to stay away. But you spoke like you already knew I’d see it. Like you knew I’d be listening. And I was.

I’ve wanted to write again for weeks now. I just… didn’t think I should. You looked for me. That alone has left me shaking. Not because I don’t want to be found, but because… I don’t know if I deserve to be.

You said I matter. I’ve spent most of my life trying to believe that. Hearing it from you broke something in me in the softest way.

Thank you.

For remembering. For not brushing it off. For making me feel seen.

But I’m still afraid. Not of you—never of you—but of what happens after this.

I’m just a girl who wrote a letter.

And you’re still Park Jay. The boy I admired before the world knew your name. The man the world admires now.

Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to hand this to someone again. Maybe one day, I’ll let myself be found.

But for now… I’m still here. Still cheering. Still yours—from a distance.

—H.G.

She stared at the letter once it was done, her hands resting lightly on the page. The words felt raw. Real. Like skin she wasn’t ready to expose. But for the first time since Coachella, she didn’t feel like she was hiding in the dark.

She had no idea when she’d send it. If she ever would.

But she had written it.

And maybe that was a start.

The letter sat on Y/N’s desk for three more days.

She would stare at it every morning before work, fingers brushing the envelope’s edge, asking herself the same question over and over: What are you afraid of?

And the answer never changed.

Rejection. Exposure. That fragile, trembling fear that maybe her words—once so safe in anonymity—were too much in the real world.

But then, one night, she caught a behind-the-scenes clip of Jay on YouTube. He was laughing with Jake, brushing his hair back as he leaned over a monitor. He looked so normal, so human. Not some unreachable idol, but a boy—just a boy—who was waiting for someone to believe he meant what he said.

And Y/N decided she would be brave.

She mailed the letter the next morning.

No fan art. No perfume. Just a single page, in the same handwriting as the first letter, signed again with two simple initials: H.G.

But this time, she added a sentence at the very bottom, in careful script:

“You asked me to come out… so here I am.”

It was addressed not to Jay directly, but to HYBE’s main office, attention to the ENHYPEN team. She figured it would end up in a pile of fan mail, maybe sit untouched for weeks.

But fate had other plans.

At HYBE’s Seoul headquarters, the mail team was sorting through their weekly batch of incoming letters and packages for ENHYPEN. Fanboxes, plushies, journals, handwritten poems—it was routine.

Until one staffer noticed a cream-colored envelope with no return address, just the simple initials "H.G." written in the corner.

His brows raised. Could it be...?

He handed it off to the artist relations coordinator without delay.

And within the hour, the letter was on the desk of ENHYPEN’s internal team lead.

The name H.G. had not gone unnoticed.

Ever since Jay’s interview and the growing fan interest, the team had quietly kept watch—just in case.

So when this second letter arrived, bearing the same delicate writing, the same quiet emotion, the same unmistakable authenticity… they knew.

This was her.

The girl who had shaken Jay with a few paragraphs.

The girl he still hadn’t stopped thinking about.

That same afternoon, a private meeting was called—not with Jay, not yet—but with the executive managers overseeing ENHYPEN’s artist welfare and scheduling.

Because as much as they trusted Jay’s instincts, they also knew the world was watching. And Jay, being who he was—heart on his sleeve, always loyal, always intense—shouldn’t handle this alone.

They read the letter.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t flashy. It was soft, apologetic, brave in the quietest way.

And it ended with hope.

“You said I matter. I’ve spent most of my life trying to believe that. Hearing it from you broke something in me in the softest way. Maybe one day, I’ll let myself be found. But for now… I’m still here. Still cheering. Still yours—from a distance.”

The room was still.

And then someone spoke the words everyone was already thinking:

“We need to find her.”

Not for a PR stunt. Not to feed the media. But because they’d seen Jay—how he lit up when talking about H.G., how her letter grounded him before performances, how her words became a quiet kind of courage.

And because something in this letter was different.

This wasn’t a fan looking for attention.

This was a soul, answering another.

By the end of the day, the team had discreetly flagged the envelope’s postmark—an area just outside of Seoul. Nothing specific, but it was a start.

They began cross-referencing possible fanmeet entries, ticket holders from Coachella who signed in under Korean addresses, and comparing handwriting samples from previous letters. Every step was careful, done with full confidentiality. Even Jay hadn’t been told yet—he would, but only when they had something real to offer.

Meanwhile, Jay continued to post subtle messages on Weverse—lyrics, single-line quotes like:

“Even in the crowd, I still feel you watching.” “I wonder if she’s heard me yet.” “Don’t worry, I’m patient.”

And fans kept the search alive.

“He’s still waiting, I’m crying 😭” “Plot twist: H.G. already sent a second letter.” “What if HYBE knows and they’re just protecting them both? 💔” “Jay’s gonna cry when he finally meets her, I just know it.”

They weren’t wrong.

Three days later, Jay walked into the practice studio expecting a usual late-night dance session.

Instead, the company manager was waiting for him near the entrance, hands folded.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked gently.

Jay blinked, then nodded.

They led him into a private room—clean, quiet, warm.

And on the table was the envelope.

The same handwriting.

The same initials.

Jay’s breath caught in his throat.

His fingers hovered over it for a moment before he picked it up with trembling hands.

He read the letter in silence.

And by the time he reached the end, he was no longer wondering if she was real.

He knew.

She was out there.

And this time, she didn’t disappear.

She wanted to be found.

He looked up at the staff, voice unsteady but eyes blazing.

“I want to find her.”

The manager smiled. “We’re already trying.”

Y/N was coming home from work, half-asleep on the bus, when her phone buzzed.

A single email. No subject. Just a name in the sender field: HYBE LABELS — Artist Relations.

Her heart immediately dropped into her stomach.

Hands shaking, she tapped the message open.

Dear Miss Han Y/N, We hope this message finds you well. We recently received your letter addressed to ENHYPEN’s Jay (Park Jongseong). After internal review and cross-verification, we believe it is appropriate to respectfully reach out and request a brief, private conversation with you. Please note this outreach is strictly confidential. Our intention is not to pressure, but to provide space and support — for you, and for the artist involved. If you are willing, please respond with a preferred time for a discreet in-person meeting at our Seoul office. We are happy to accommodate you in a private setting. Warm regards, HYBE Artist Relations Department

Y/N stared at the message, frozen. Her stomach churned. Her lungs felt like they’d forgotten how to work. This was real. They knew who she was.

And more terrifying than that—so did Jay.

Three days later, Y/N found herself sitting in a quiet meeting room deep within HYBE’s secure artist floor.

Everything was pristine. A tray of tea sat untouched in front of her. She was dressed as plainly as possible, trying to shrink into her chair, yet it felt impossible to hide when two HYBE staff members—kind-eyed, warm, and dressed in soft business casual—were looking at her like she mattered.

“We really appreciate you coming, Y/N,” said the woman across from her, a team lead for artist wellness. Her voice was gentle, like she was talking to someone halfway through a storm.

“We want you to know, before anything else,” added the man beside her, “that you’re not in trouble. This isn’t about publicity, or content, or control. We’re only reaching out because your letter made it very clear you’ve been deeply impacted by this—and so has Jay.”

Y/N kept her hands folded tightly in her lap, eyes lowered. “I didn’t… I never expected it to go this far.”

“We understand,” the woman said with a nod. “You wrote something beautiful. Honest. And it meant a lot to him.”

Silence followed.

Then, the man leaned forward slightly, speaking softer.

“We want to ask you something, and we ask it carefully… not as a company, but as people who’ve seen Jay grow and change, especially after receiving your letters.”

Y/N finally looked up.

“What is it you want from here, Y/N?”

The room held its breath.

“Do you… want to meet him? Do you want to stay anonymous? Would you rather we keep you out of this moving forward, or… do you hope something else can come from this?”

Y/N blinked rapidly. Her vision blurred.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t think I’d get this far. I just… I loved him for so long, quietly. From behind a screen. From behind a barrier. And now he’s… waiting. Saying he’s waiting. That he wants to find me. But I don’t know if I’m enough to be found.”

The woman’s expression softened even more. “You don’t have to be anyone but who you are. We’re not here to judge or make decisions for you. But we do believe you should be the one who decides what happens next.”

The man gave a small smile. “Jay doesn’t want a fan who fits an image. He’s been moved by you. Your words. Your sincerity.”

Y/N stared at the untouched tea, thinking.

“I don’t know what comes next. But… I think I’d regret it forever if I didn’t at least meet him. Just once. Even if I say nothing.”

The woman reached for her tablet, then paused, locking eyes with her.

“We can make that happen. In private. No cameras. No staff beyond one of us. Just the two of you.”

“And if afterward,” the man added gently, “you feel it’s too much… we’ll protect your privacy. No names. No photos. Nothing goes anywhere without your consent.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “He really wants to see me?”

“Yes,” the woman said without hesitation. “More than you know.”

Jay was pacing.

Not the kind of pacing that came with pre-concert jitters or last-minute rehearsals, but the kind that settled deep in your bones — restless, charged, unbearable.

Jungwon watched him from the corner of the dorm’s living room, sipping from a protein shake like he was watching the latest K-drama.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor, hyung.”

Jay stopped, turned, and ran a hand through his hair for the seventh time in under a minute. “What do I even say to her?”

Jake looked up from his phone on the couch. “Uh, maybe start with hi?”

“Very helpful, thank you,” Jay muttered, already pacing again.

Sunghoon walked in from the kitchen with an energy drink and leaned against the counter. “You’ve talked about her for weeks. Now you’re acting like you’ve forgotten how to form sentences.”

Jay stopped in front of him. “Because this is real now. Before, it was just letters. Guessing. Hoping. But tomorrow…” He swallowed hard. “Tomorrow, I’m going to be standing in front of her. The girl who wrote things that changed me. Who made me feel seen, without even showing her face.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, Heeseung looked up from his laptop, where he had been pretending not to listen.

“You’re not afraid she won’t like you, are you?”

Jay hesitated. “I’m afraid I won’t be enough for her.”

Sunoo, sitting cross-legged on the carpet while painting his nails, spoke up without looking. “She wouldn’t have written a second letter if she didn’t already care.”

“Exactly,” Ni-ki added from where he was lying on the floor with a bag of chips. “She gave you another chance. Don’t mess it up.”

Jay let out a frustrated sigh, collapsing onto the couch beside Jake. His fingers rubbed his temples, trying to calm the tornado in his head.

He had barely slept in the past three days.

Ever since HYBE confirmed they had found H.G.—no, Y/N—and that she had agreed to meet him in private, Jay had been spiraling between every human emotion possible.

Excitement. Terror. Longing. Doubt.

He wanted to dress well, but not flashy. Say something profound, but not rehearsed. He wanted to be himself — but what if himself wasn’t what she’d imagined?

“She knows me from afar,” Jay muttered, staring blankly at the ceiling. “What if up close, I’m a disappointment?”

“Then she’d be the only one who thinks that,” Sunoo said simply.

Jay looked over.

“I mean it,” Sunoo added. “None of us were the same after reading that first letter. You changed, hyung. You softened. You started opening up more — even in interviews. The way you talk about her, even when you try to hide it… it’s different.”

Sunghoon nodded. “She didn’t just impact you, Jay. She impacted all of us.”

Jake threw an arm around Jay’s shoulders and pulled him into a sideways hug. “You’re gonna be great. Just don’t cry the second you see her, okay? Let her breathe.”

Jay let out a small laugh, covering his face. “I might, though.”

“Don’t wear cologne if you’re going to cry,” Ni-ki chimed. “You’ll drown the poor girl in sad boy perfume.”

Jay threw a cushion at him, but missed.

Later that night, after the dorm had quieted down, Jay sat alone in his room.

On his desk were the two letters. He read them both again, slowly.

He traced her handwriting with his eyes, memorizing the curves of her words like he had the first time. Her second letter was shorter, but braver. She signed it the same way: H.G. — but this time, he knew her name.

Han Y/N.

The name felt like a secret he had waited months to learn.

He imagined her handwriting now with a voice. A face. The shy smile she must have had when writing these words. The trembling hope buried between the lines.

And tomorrow, she would be real.

Not a dream. Not a guess. Not a crowd in the audience.

But there.

In front of him.

Waiting for him to speak first.

Jay picked up his guitar, fingers instinctively finding a gentle chord progression. He played softly, the notes fragile and uncertain.

And then, quietly, he sang—half-whispered.

“If I had one more letter from you… I’d write one back, face to face. No more distance, no more maybe. Just your name. And my name. And now.”

He paused.

Then whispered, “Please don’t run this time.”

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding.

Jay stepped out onto the private floor, where no one else was allowed without clearance. The usual buzz of HYBE was distant here, quieted by thick walls and soundproof rooms.

He wore a simple black sweater, clean jeans, and his favorite sneakers—the ones he always wore when he needed to feel grounded. His hair was brushed, his hands freshly moisturized (Sunoo made sure), but none of that stopped the storm raging in his chest.

A staff member he trusted walked beside him, guiding him to one of the meeting lounges tucked in the corner of the building. The windows were half-drawn. Soft light flooded the warm wood and cream-toned room. A tray of untouched tea and bottled water sat on the table.

And she was there.

Sitting quietly on the far couch, hands neatly folded on her lap, eyes lowered.

Jay froze.

The sound of his shoes stopped her breath mid inhale. Slowly, carefully, she looked up.

Their eyes met.

Time, for a moment, didn’t exist.

Not the years she spent watching him from behind a screen. Not the months he spent looking for a girl who left nothing but letters. Not the interviews, or the posts, or the words written in secret.

Just him.

And her.

“H… hi,” she said, almost like a breath.

Jay’s throat tightened. “Hi.”

He moved toward the couch across from hers, not wanting to move too fast, afraid to break the moment like glass. She sat up straighter, adjusting nervously, and he could see how tightly she was gripping the hem of her sweater.

“I didn’t think this would actually happen,” she said softly.

“Me neither,” Jay replied. “But I’m really glad it did.”

She looked away for a moment, blinking hard. “I almost said no.”

Jay’s chest ached. “Why?”

“Because I thought… if I stayed hidden, I could protect everything. My feelings. My reality. You.”

Jay leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. “And what made you come anyway?”

She bit her lip, then looked up again—and there it was. The expression he’d imagined from her letters: strong, uncertain, deeply sincere.

“Because I didn’t want to spend my whole life wondering what could’ve happened if I was brave enough to show up.”

Jay smiled softly, his eyes stinging.

“That’s funny,” he whispered. “Because I told myself the exact same thing last night.”

A quiet laugh escaped her lips. “So what now?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I don’t want to walk away.”

Y/N exhaled, and it was shaky, as if she’d been holding her breath since Coachella.

“I didn’t write those letters expecting to be found,” she said. “I was okay just admiring you from far away. Loving you quietly.”

Jay looked down at his hands. “But I wanted to know who wrote things that knew my heart better than I did.”

Y/N’s fingers brushed against the side of her thigh. “I didn’t mean to say that at the fanmeet. It just slipped.”

“When you said…” Jay lifted his gaze. “‘Maybe she doesn’t want you to find her’?”

She nodded slowly, almost embarrassed.

Jay leaned back and gave a soft laugh. “That line haunted me.”

“I thought so,” she murmured. “You looked at me like you knew.”

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “Not for sure. But I hoped.”

There was a moment of silence where the air felt full of things unsaid. Then, Jay gently reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

It was the first letter.

“I carry it,” he said. “Not always, but… often enough.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because it reminds me that someone saw me. Not the idol. Not the performer. Just… me.”

She blinked back sudden tears. “I saw you long before the world did.”

Jay held her gaze, firm and honest. “And I think I’ve been waiting for you ever since.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. “I don’t know what to do with this. What this means. I’m still a nobody, Jay.”

He shook his head. “You’re not a nobody. You’re you. That’s more than enough for me.”

Another long silence stretched between them, not heavy—just full. Then Jay stood slowly and offered his hand.

“No pressure,” he said quietly. “But… do you want to go for a walk?”

Y/N stared at his hand, then up at him.

She placed her fingers gently in his palm.

“Yes,” she said. “But only if we walk slowly.”

Jay’s smile was like a sunrise.

“Perfect,” he said, intertwining their fingers.

And together, they left the room—no cameras, no scripts, no questions. Just footsteps echoing gently through the quiet hallways of the building where dreams were born… …and where, finally, two of them found each other.

Jay stepped back into the dorm sometime past midnight.

The world outside was dark and sleeping, but inside him, everything was awake. His heart, his thoughts, his soul—buzzing with something that had no name yet but felt a lot like beginning.

He quietly pushed the door closed behind him, slipping off his shoes as if not to wake a sleeping house. But when he turned the corner, the lights flipped on.

“HYUNG!”

“HE’S BACK!”

“OUR ROMEO RETURNS!”

The entire living room exploded with voices. Heeseung was sprawled on the couch with popcorn. Jake and Sunghoon jumped out from behind the kitchen counter like they’d rehearsed it. Sunoo had a camera (probably fake) and started pretend-filming like a paparazzi.

Jungwon, always the calm one, simply raised his eyebrows with a teasing grin. Ni-ki clapped like a seal.

Jay froze. “What the—how are you all still awake?!”

“You think we were gonna sleep through this?” Jake said, laughing.

“This is basically a national event,” Sunoo added. “I’ve been waiting all day for the post-meeting report.”

Jay sighed and rolled his eyes, walking toward the kitchen while they all followed like ducklings. “It wasn’t a drama, guys.”

“No, but you were dramatic enough leading up to it,” Sunghoon said with a smirk. “So, spill.”

Jay opened the fridge just to avoid eye contact. “It was… good.”

“GOOD?” Heeseung repeated in disbelief. “That’s all we’re getting?”

Jay turned around, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed. His face, though trying to stay composed, was… different. Softer. Brighter. Like something inside had been washed clean.

“She’s everything I hoped she’d be,” he finally said, voice low but firm. “Maybe even more.”

The room fell quiet for a second.

Sunoo slowly lowered his pretend camera. “Okay, now I want to cry.”

“What did you guys talk about?” Ni-ki asked, genuinely curious.

Jay looked thoughtful. “Everything and nothing. It wasn’t about what we said, honestly. It was just… being there. Finally. Looking at her and knowing it’s her. The girl who wrote those words and somehow saw me.”

Jungwon smiled, eyes gentle. “Did she seem happy?”

“She was scared,” Jay admitted. “But she showed up. And that told me everything.”

There was a beat of silence before Jake reached over and smacked his shoulder lightly.

“I’m proud of you, man.”

“Me too,” Heeseung added. “You didn’t push. You just… waited. You let her come to you.”

Jay looked down and smiled. “She said she still doesn’t know what to do with all this. That she’s still just a fan. But I told her that to me, she’s her. That’s what matters.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly. “You really like her, huh?”

Jay looked up, eyes clear.

“I think I have for a long time. I just didn’t know who ‘she’ was until now.”

Meanwhile at HYBE, in a quiet executive meeting the following morning, the same staff who had handled the letters, the background checks, and the careful arrangements for the meeting sat around a glass table.

The atmosphere was calm but hopeful. A few senior managers, PR leads, and artist relationship coordinators were present.

“So?” one of them finally asked. “How did it go?”

One staff member, a gentle-faced coordinator who had walked Y/N into the lounge personally, smiled softly. “Better than we could have imagined. She’s… kind. Thoughtful. She still doesn’t want any attention. Just wanted to speak with him, that’s all.”

“Is she still planning to stay anonymous?” another asked.

“For now,” the coordinator replied. “But I think… something changed between them. Something quiet. Personal. And powerful.”

There was a long silence. The head of artist care, a woman in her mid-30s with years of experience under her belt, folded her hands.

“We keep protecting them. No leaks, no rumors. This is theirs, not the public’s. But we support whatever direction it goes.”

Everyone nodded.

“She brought out a side of him we hadn’t seen in a while,” someone muttered. “A kind of peace.”

“She reminded him of who he is outside the spotlight.”

Later that week, back at the dorm

Jay sat on the balcony, phone in hand, scrolling slowly through Weverse posts. He wasn’t planning to say anything. Just… browsing.

Then, he opened his private staff chat. A single new message from HYBE.

“Thank you for handling everything with respect and sincerity. We’re proud of you.”

He stared at the message for a moment, then replied simply:

“She was worth it.”

As he looked out at the night skyline, a warm breeze rustling the curtains, Jay finally let himself relax.

This was the beginning of something.

Maybe not a love story the whole world would know yet.

But something real.

And for now, that was more than enough.

The quiet cafe they met at again was tucked in a corner of Seoul where cameras didn’t follow and where the world moved slower.

Jay arrived early, of course, nervously picking at the foam of his coffee cup, wondering if she’d come.

But when he looked up and saw her push the door open, hoodie tucked over her head and a small smile peeking beneath it—his heart exhaled.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted softly, sliding into the booth across from him.

“Hey,” he smiled back. “You came.”

“You asked,” she shrugged playfully, fingers curling around her mug. “I couldn’t say no to you.”

Jay chuckled under his breath. “Dangerous words, Han Y/N.”

She looked up at the sound of her full name—he liked the way it rolled off his tongue. And the look she gave him? It said I noticed.

They talked easily after that. Nothing too heavy. Just music, movies, a little teasing about his handwriting that she saw in a behind-the-scenes post. Then, in a pause between sips, Jay looked at her seriously.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said, leaning forward slightly.

Y/N blinked, cautious but curious. “Okay…”

“I want you to meet the members.”

Her eyes widened. “Like… actually meet them?”

He nodded, fingers nervously drumming on the tabletop. “They know about you. Not everything, obviously. Just what I’ve told them, and what they’ve seen through all this. They’re curious. A little too curious, honestly,” he added with a small laugh. “But they’re excited. And they want to meet the girl who made me light up like an idiot the past few weeks.”

Y/N stayed quiet for a moment, heart racing. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m still just… a fan.”

Jay shook his head gently. “You’re not just a fan. Not to me. And they know that. You don’t have to prove anything. Just… be you.”

She looked down, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

“What if they don’t like me?”

He reached across the table, fingers brushing hers. “Impossible.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh. “Okay. One condition.”

Jay tilted his head.

“You’re not allowed to leave my side when it happens.”

Jay grinned, wide and boyish. “Deal.”

Later That Day – HYBE Meeting Room

Y/N sat with one of the familiar staff members—the one who’d been with her from the beginning of this process. The atmosphere was warm, not cold and corporate like she had feared.

“First, we just want to thank you again,” the coordinator said, hands folded gently on the table. “For trusting us, and for being so respectful of everything.”

Y/N nodded quietly. “Thank you… for keeping it private.”

The staff smiled. “And we intend to keep it that way for as long as you want. But we wanted to check with you on something that’s… starting to bubble up online.”

Y/N stiffened slightly.

The coordinator continued gently. “The fan search. It’s only grown louder lately. The H.G. theories. Some fans think you’re someone from the States, some say you’re a trainee from another label, a few are… spiraling.”

Y/N winced.

“No one’s close to the truth,” the staff assured her quickly. “But it’s still a wildfire. We wanted to ask—only if you’re ready—if you’d like us to confirm that you’ve been found. No details, no names, no photos. Just a small statement to let the search rest.”

Y/N looked down at her lap, breathing slowly.

“You wouldn’t have to say anything,” they added gently. “Jay wouldn’t either. We’d handle it.”

She thought about it for a long while.

She thought about the girls on Weverse who cried over Jay’s letters to H.G.

She thought about the ones who wrote poetry in the comments, pretending to be her. Thought about the guilt she carried each time someone begged H.G. to reveal herself.

“…You’d keep it anonymous?” she asked quietly.

“Absolutely,” the staff replied. “Just a simple line in a future update. Something like, ‘the person has been privately identified and wishes to remain out of the spotlight.’ Nothing more.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “…I think that’s okay. It might even help them breathe again.”

The coordinator’s face softened. “You’re really thoughtful, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled shyly. “They love him. I know how it feels. I just don’t want to take anything from them.”

The staff shook their head. “I think… in time, they’ll come to love you, too. In their own way.”

“SOOOOOOO—WHEN’S SHE COMING?”

Jay barely made it through the front door before Sunoo was in his face.

“Let him take his shoes off first,” Jungwon deadpanned from the couch.

“She said yes,” Jay said casually, sliding off his jacket.

The dorm erupted.

Jake whooped like a sports fan. Heeseung tossed a pillow into the air. Ni-ki yelled “YESSSSS!” while doing a victory dance. Sunghoon fist-bumped Jungwon like they’d won a bet.

Jay was a little red but smiling ear to ear. “She’s nervous. Don’t scare her.”

“Us?” Sunoo gasped, scandalized. “We’re the friendliest.”

“She said I’m not allowed to leave her side.”

“Obviously,” Jungwon replied. “Otherwise she’s gonna be interrogated.”

“I will bring snacks,” Jake announced. “It will be a bonding experience.”

Jay just laughed, heart full and hopeful. Things were unfolding slowly, yes—but they were unfolding beautifully.

The hallway was unusually quiet, the soft hum of fluorescent lights filling the silence as Y/N followed the staff down toward the practice rooms. She clutched the tote bag hanging off her shoulder tighter, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her. The building smelled faintly like wood floors, citrus cleaner, and something comforting she couldn’t quite name—something like home.

"They're still out finishing a few filming schedules," the staff said kindly as they stopped in front of the practice room. "But you can wait in here. It’s where they spend most of their time anyway.”

Y/N gave a small, grateful nod. “Thank you.”

The moment she stepped into the familiar room—the sleek mirrors, the open floors, the slightly scuffed walls with stories etched into them—her heart trembled. She had seen this place a hundred times through a screen. Now it was real. Echoing. Alive.

“Would it be okay if I played some music while I wait?” she asked shyly, unsure.

“Of course,” the staff replied with a smile. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll come back once they’re on their way.”

When the door clicked shut behind them, Y/N exhaled.

Alone.

She set her bag down carefully, crossing the room to the speakers she recognized from the boys’ practice videos. Her fingers hesitated over the playlist on her phone, then hovered over the most obvious option.

ENHYPEN: Favorites.

Her lips curled slightly, pressing play.

The intro to “Drunk-Dazed” flooded the room, deep bass thumping into her bones. Her body moved before her brain could stop it. Her limbs remembered the rhythm, the choreography she had once mimicked in her bedroom, in the reflection of her TV, late at night when no one could watch.

At first, it was just her arms, mimicking the opening sequence. Then her feet followed. And by the chorus, she was all in.

Sweat trickled down her neck as she transitioned into “Future Perfect (Pass the Mic),” muttering lyrics under her breath, her movements sharp and fluid. There were mistakes—of course. But her joy made up for all of them.

She didn’t hear the quiet shuffle of sneakers behind the door.

Didn’t hear the keys turning.

Didn’t see the seven heads peeking through the barely opened door, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

Jake was the first to break the silence. His mouth dropped open. “Bro…”

“She’s dancing to our song?” Sunghoon whispered, surprised.

“She knows the choreo?” Ni-ki blinked.

“She’s really good,” Sunoo said, stunned.

Jungwon smiled quietly. “She’s a real fan.”

“She’s…” Jay didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t.

He just watched.

She was glowing.

Not in some glamorous, curated way—but in that way people do when they think they’re alone. Unfiltered, alive, and real. She moved like the music lived in her chest, like every beat was a heartbeat she had memorized. She sang along, breathless and laughing at herself when she missed a step.

She was beautiful.

And completely unaware of the door now wide open.

“Someone say something,” Heeseung whispered.

Jake grinned. “No way. I’m enjoying the show.”

But Sunoo had already stepped in.

“Nice moves, Y/N.”

The music cut with a sharp gasp as Y/N whirled around, mortified. Her hand flew to her mouth. Seven boys now stood inside the room, leaning against the walls, grinning like they had just walked in on a movie scene.

“I—OH MY GOD,” she stammered. “I didn’t hear—I didn’t—how long have you—?!”

Jay stepped forward, trying—and failing—not to smile too much. “Long enough.”

Y/N nearly sank into the floor.

“I’m gonna die right here,” she muttered into her hands.

Jake laughed, loud and unapologetic. “Nooo, you were great! We should’ve been filming that.”

“Please don’t,” Y/N groaned, cheeks flaming.

Sunghoon gave her a playful nudge as he walked past to set his bag down. “Don’t worry. You already made a great first impression.”

Ni-ki flashed her a thumbs up. “Cool footwork. Let’s dance together sometime.”

Heeseung dropped beside her on the floor, offering a water bottle. “You really are a fan, huh?”

Y/N nodded bashfully. “Since I-LAND.”

“OG ENGENE,” Sunoo gasped dramatically. “Respect.”

Jungwon, who had been quiet, gave her a warm smile. “Welcome. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Y/N blinked. “Really?”

All eyes turned to Jay, who was still standing by the mirrors, heart clearly stuck in his throat.

He cleared his throat and stepped closer, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “I told them about you,” he said softly. “Everything I could. But I wanted you to meet them yourself. So they could see what I see.”

Her breath hitched.

And in that moment, something in her settled.

They made room for her on the practice floor, sitting in a wide circle, drinks in hand and snacks Jake dug out from his bag.

The conversation flowed like water—half in chaos, half in earnest.

“What’s your bias order?” Jake teased.

“I’m not answering that,” Y/N laughed.

“Say Ni-ki’s last,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

“HEY!”

Sunoo leaned forward. “Be honest—did you ever write a fanfic?”

Y/N choked on her drink. “NO. Well. Not about you.”

Heeseung grinned. “Suspicious.”

Jungwon asked thoughtful questions—what her favorite ENHYPEN song was, what lyric hit her hardest, what inspired her letter.

And when she finally looked up from answering, she caught Jay watching her.

Not like a pop star. Not like a fan.

But like something rare had wandered into his orbit.

Later, when the sun dipped low and the city began to quiet, Jay offered to walk her out.

They lingered in the hallway again, that same one she had walked earlier with nerves tangled in her chest. Now, something else sat there—something gentler.

“Thanks,” she said. “For this. For… them.”

Jay tilted his head. “You’re not scared anymore?”

“I am,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t feel like I have to run away from it.”

He smiled. “Good.”

“Also,” she added with a raised brow. “I can’t believe you caught me dancing.”

He chuckled, eyes sparkling. “I absolutely believe it. You were amazing.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. In fact,” he leaned a little closer, “you might’ve just secured your spot as the eighth member.”

“Shut up,” she whispered, laughing.

Jay laughed too, stepping back reluctantly. “We’ll see each other again soon?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

As she walked away, Jay stayed in the hallway for a moment longer, watching the door close behind her.

Then, with a full heart and the softest smile, he turned back toward the room—and toward his brothers, who immediately tackled him with teasing and questions.

“Are you in love yet?”

“Are we invited to the wedding?”

“She likes your parts in the songs, right?”

But Jay didn’t mind the chaos.

Not anymore.

Because she was real.

And she was here.

And it was only the beginning.

The news broke softly.

No press releases, no flashy headlines. Just a short, quiet message posted by HYBE on the official ENHYPEN Weverse notice board one ordinary Thursday afternoon:

📢 [NOTICE] Dear ENGENEs, We sincerely thank you for your continued love and support toward ENHYPEN. We would like to gently inform you that, with much care and thought, we have been able to privately connect with the individual known affectionately among fans as “H.G.” With her consent, we wish to share that she is well, safe, and has now had the opportunity to meet with ENHYPEN. As this matter remains personal, we kindly ask for your understanding and respect regarding her privacy. We deeply appreciate the love and warmth shown by ENGENEs throughout this time. Thank you always. — BELIFT LAB / HYBE

No name. No photos. Just confirmation.

But that was all it took.

Within minutes, hashtags exploded across social media: #HGFIND, #WelcomeBackHG, #JayAndHG, #HGConfirmed, #ENGENEsProtectHG

Weverse comments flew in by the thousands.

“SHE’S REAL OH MY GOD” “I’M SO HAPPY SHE’S SAFE 😭😭😭” “Protect H.G. at all costs.” “Who else cried when they read the notice?? Be honest.” “So she really got to meet them… she met Jay… 😭 what a dream come true.”

Fan accounts began speculating instantly. Who was she? Had they already seen her and not realized it? Was she already part of their world without them knowing?

Fan theories popped up like wildfire:

One popular thread claimed she had been seen entering HYBE days earlier, escorted by staff.

Another pointed out that in the latest behind-the-scenes video, there was a small clip of Jay smiling at someone off-camera—"a different kind of smile" they said—and ENGENEs began to dissect the angle, analyzing every second like investigators.

A few even suggested that in a recent group livestream, Sunghoon almost said her name before Sunoo elbowed him under the table.

The comments became even more emotionally charged:

“Jay found the girl who wrote that letter. The girl who gave him words when he needed them most. This is the stuff of fairytales.” “I hope she’s okay. I hope she’s being treated gently. I hope she knows we don’t hate her—we love her.” “I used to wonder if I’d hate the girl who got close to Jay. But now I just want H.G. to be happy. I think she gave us all something magical.”

On TikTok, a wave of soft edits bloomed under the trending sound “Until I Found You” by Stephen Sanchez. Fan-made videos played scenes of Jay speaking about H.G. intercut with clips of him smiling, dancing, reading letters, laughing behind the scenes—each one a tribute to the mysterious girl who captured the heart of their idol.

Some were bittersweet.

Some were romantic.

Most were filled with love.

Even international ENGENEs translated the announcement and shared it in their native languages, uniting fans globally in an unspoken message: We’re proud of her. We support her.

Jay himself didn’t say anything right away.

But fans noticed.

In his next Weverse post, he uploaded a photo of a cup of tea, the sunlight falling across the table, and a small quote beneath it:

“Some hearts are loud even in silence.” ☁️ #JAYLOG

It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

Replies flooded in.

“IS THIS ABOUT HER? 😭” “Y’ALL HE’S SO SOFT WHEN HE THINKS OF HER I SWEAR” “Jay is in his poetic love era rn”

Then came the subtle changes—like ripples in calm water:

During a group VLive, Jake slipped and said,

“Yeah, we met someone really special recently—” before Jungwon cleared his throat loudly and redirected the conversation.

Sunoo posted a selfie with the caption:

“She’s really sweet 💐”

Ni-ki changed his profile song to Polaroid Love.

And in a fansign video, Heeseung was asked if he believed in fate. He laughed, nodded, and said:

“Yeah. Especially lately.”

That’s when it became clear:

She wasn’t just a fan anymore.

She wasn’t just “the girl who wrote the letter.”

She was there. Somewhere in their lives now. And it changed something in them.

It showed.

Jay smiled more in interviews. His answers became softer, slower—like he was really thinking about them. In one behind-the-scenes clip, while waiting for filming to start, he doodled on a napkin, whispering,

“H… G…” before catching the camera’s glance and quickly folding it up.

ENGENEs caught everything.

And surprisingly?

There was no anger. No jealousy. Just awe.

Because maybe for the first time, a fan—one of them—had made it into the story not because of luck or looks or clout.

But because she loved him quietly.

Because her words healed him.

Because he looked for her.

And he found her.

A top Weverse comment summed it up best:

“We always imagined Jay would fall for someone who saw past the fame. Someone who loved Jongseong, not just Jay. And maybe… maybe H.G. did just that.” 💌

It started slowly.

After their private meeting—the one that lingered like a warm memory between two souls finally crossing the same bridge—Jay found himself thinking about Y/N more than ever. Not just in the quiet mornings or as he wound down before bed. It was during lunch breaks, rehearsals, choreography drills. In every pause between breaths, she lingered.

He had always been a man of action. And when Jay felt something this strong, he didn’t sit on it. He moved with it. Toward it.

So when Y/N agreed to continue seeing him—casually, gently—he wasted no time in inviting her into the part of his world that meant the most to him: the practice room.

“Come by,” he said one night on the phone, his voice low, almost shy for the first time. “You don’t have to do anything. Just… be there. Sit in the corner, read, nap, whatever. I just want you close.”

She’d smiled at the time, curled on her sofa with a tea she never finished, her heart racing in her chest.

“Alright,” she said softly. “I’ll come.”

The next day, she arrived at HYBE’s back entrance under the early morning sky. Her face was shielded with a cap pulled low and a mask fitted snugly over her nose and mouth, her identity invisible to the world. One of the staff members escorted her to the now-familiar practice room—one she’d only ever seen through dance cams and behind-the-scenes clips. She had never imagined she’d one day walk inside it, not as an outsider or fan, but as… herself.

Jay was already there when she arrived, sitting on the floor, stretching lazily with earphones in. But the second he caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, he lit up.

“Hey,” he greeted, standing up and walking over, his hand reaching out instinctively to touch her wrist—gently, like he wasn’t sure if she was real again.

She glanced around nervously. “Won’t someone see—?”

“They won’t,” he assured her. “They’re still finishing up interviews upstairs. We’ve got time.”

He led her to the corner where a cushion and a blanket had already been set up for her. There was even a mini tray with a bottle of water and a small container of strawberries—her favorite.

“You did this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he teased, tossing his hoodie over his shoulder. “Could be anyone.”

They both laughed.

Days passed. Then weeks.

It became their quiet ritual. Y/N would slip into the practice room when schedules allowed, always hidden beneath her cap and mask, always silent unless spoken to. She never intruded. But she was there—and that was all Jay needed.

He found himself stealing glances at her in the mirror as he danced, his eyes drifting to where she sat cross-legged, bobbing her head softly to the beat. Sometimes, when the others were too absorbed in practice, he’d dance closer to her, throwing her playful smirks or mouthing lyrics directly at her like a secret performance only she could understand.

Once, Jake caught it.

After practice, as they collapsed onto the floor in a sweaty heap, Jake nudged Jay with a knowing grin.

“Practice room's got a new energy these days, huh?”

Jay only smirked, sipping from his water bottle. “Maybe. Feels like good luck.”

But even the sharpest-eyed fans didn’t catch on immediately. Not until someone zoomed in on the edge of a practice vlog posted weeks later.

It was barely a second.

The camera panned across the studio’s mirrored wall—and there, almost ghost-like in the reflection, was a figure sitting against the wall beside Jay. Dressed in black, face covered, knees hugged to chest. She wasn’t moving much. Just… present.

The fans went wild.

“WHO IS THAT??” “There’s someone in the practice room and it’s NOT a staff member.” “I swear she’s always sitting in the same place Jay stretches. Look at the last three videos.” “Lowkey think that’s H.G… 😳” “WAIT. The body language?? The way he glances at her??” “She’s dancing too!!! Look at the tiny movement of her shoulders!!!” “I CAN’T BELIEVE H.G. IS REAL AND IN THE PRACTICE ROOM???” “Imagine being the muse to Jay’s every move 😭😭😭”

But for every curious comment, a hundred more defended her:

“She’s clearly trying to stay hidden. Let her be.” “If Jay trusts her in that space, we should too.” “Protect H.G. at all costs. She’s giving our boy strength.” “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen unfold in real life.”

One late evening, after everyone else had gone home, Jay stayed behind with her.

The room was dimly lit, only the LED strips glowing along the ceiling. Music was still playing—low and slow now, something soft and orchestral.

They were lying side by side on the floor, staring at the ceiling, breath steady.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he murmured.

Y/N turned her head toward him. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because I never thought someone would ever walk into my life so quietly and feel like home.”

She was quiet for a beat, her voice soft when she answered.

“I used to dream of meeting you,” she admitted. “But in all those dreams, I was just another face in the crowd. Just a fan. Not… this.”

Jay reached out, gently intertwining his fingers with hers. “You were never just a fan to me. Not after that letter. You reminded me who I was… and why I started all this.”

Their fingers curled tighter, silent understanding filling the space between them.

“You know,” he whispered, “I’ve danced in this room thousands of times. But now, when I look up and see you there… it finally feels complete.”

Their love wasn’t loud. It wasn’t public.

But it was present—like the bass of a song you feel in your bones long before you realize it’s playing.

And in that practice room, surrounded by echoes of dreams and footwork, Jay and Y/N found a rhythm of their own—steady, unspoken, real.

It started subtly.

In the beginning, Y/N only came by during evening practices — always in discreet attire: hoodie, mask, cap. She kept to the edges of the room, sitting against the mirrored wall with a water bottle and a notebook. Sometimes, she would quietly bob her head to the beat. Other times, she’d help Jay rewind the practice track or offer tissues to the boys after a sweaty run-through. Her presence was easy to overlook, but the members noticed.

And then they started including her.

It began with Jake tossing her a pack of snacks mid-break. “You sit here like a manager but don’t even eat. That’s a crime.”

Sunoo followed up with a teasing grin. “If you’re gonna suffer with us through the sweat and pain, at least enjoy the benefits. We have ramen breaks, you know.”

Jay had just smiled at the growing interactions, heart swelling with pride at how easily Y/N was slipping into his world.

One day, Heeseung sat down beside her during cooldown. “So, what do you think?” he asked, stretching his arms. “Do we still have it? Or are we washed up?”

Y/N laughed, surprised at his casual tone. “Washed up? Hardly. That last choreo nearly knocked the breath out of me and I wasn’t even dancing.” “High praise,” he smirked, nudging her. “Jay’s been different lately, you know. Lighter. I think we have you to thank.”

Y/N looked away shyly, but the flutter in her chest didn’t go unnoticed. Ni-ki, the youngest, started openly chatting with her about anime and games. “Y/N-noona knows One Piece, did you guys know that?” he proudly told the others one day, “She’s cooler than I thought.”

The more they opened up, the more Y/N did too — laughing with Jungwon when he accidentally spilled water on himself, helping Sunghoon check his alignment in the mirror when no one else noticed, offering gentle, thoughtful feedback whenever anyone asked her opinion.

She wasn’t trying to stand out. She was just being herself. And that was enough.

Behind-the-scenes clips start giving her away.

Fans, always watching, started catching on.

In a practice vlog, a figure could be seen passing water bottles to the boys. A voice — soft, barely audible — could be heard saying, “Don’t forget to stretch your arms, Jungwon, you were locking them again.”

Comments exploded:

“WHO JUST SAID THAT? WHO KNOWS THEIR CHOREO THAT WELL??” “I know it’s H.G. Don’t play with me.” “The water bottle lady strikes again 😭” “She told Jungwon about his arms and he listened. Girlie is part of the team now I swear.”

In another Behind the MV video, a reflection in the glass window showed someone passing a mic to Jay — her outline familiar by now to the more eagle-eyed ENGENEs. What really caught attention, though, was the way Jay turned and smiled at her — soft, instinctive, full of fondness.

“The way Jay smiled without even seeing her face. 😭 That’s love.” “He didn’t smile at the staff like that. Only at her. I’m dying.” “If H.G. was a member at this point I wouldn’t be surprised.”

A TikTok clip uploaded by Ni-ki showed the group rehearsing choreography in the mirror. In the corner, a girl — cap low, hoodie up — was dancing along, mirroring their moves almost perfectly. Ni-ki’s caption read:

“A+ trainee? Or secret 8th member? 🤔👀”

The internet lost it.

“Ni-ki just exposed her???” “Even Y/N can’t resist doing the choreo. She’s one of us 😭” “Secret 8th member confirmed. Just give her a mic already.” “I’m convinced she’s been a fan longer than most of us and now she’s dancing with them. That’s what dreams are made of.”

Some evenings, Y/N would be invited back to the dorm after long schedules. Not often — just when it felt right. The staff trusted her. The boys welcomed her. It became a safe space.

One night, while everyone gathered in the living room to watch a movie, Jay had his head resting lazily on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering closed. Y/N had passed him a blanket without a word, to which he muttered a sleepy “Thank you,” followed by a smile that said far more than his words.

Sunghoon had chuckled, glancing at the quiet moment. “He’s so spoiled now.”

“Isn’t that what love does?” Heeseung teased.

Y/N turned red, but Jay only smirked, eyes still closed. “You guys are just jealous.”

As more interactions surfaced — through unfiltered behind-the-scenes clips, staff vlogs, and subtle comments by the members — the fandom slowly shifted from curiosity to warmth. Y/N wasn’t seen as an intruder anymore. She was a presence that enhanced the boys’ lives, and by extension, the fans’ experience.

“I like how she stays quiet but she’s there. She feels like a grounding presence.” “I love how comfortable the boys are around her. She’s not trying to be anything. Just… Y/N.” “Jay deserves someone who keeps him smiling like that. And I think we all agree now — it’s her.” “She’s not taking the spotlight. She’s just… with them. And that’s beautiful.”

It wasn’t just Jay anymore. It was Heeseung joking with her. Ni-ki filming her mid-dance and cackling when she noticed. Jungwon asking her to test out a handshake with him. Jake and Sunoo teasing Jay together in front of her, saying, “Now he’s gotta act cool all the time. Poor guy.”

Late one night, a Weverse post from Jay appeared.

“It’s been a long road, but I’m happy to be surrounded by people who make every day lighter. You guys too. Thank you for accepting everything with warmth. I won’t forget it. 🖤”

It didn’t mention her. It didn’t need to.

The comments rolled in:

“He means her. I know he means her.” “It’s the way he respects us while protecting her. Jay, we love you.” “This whole story… I feel like we’re witnessing something real. It’s like a fanfic come to life.” “We’re just watching love grow in real time and I’m here for it 😭✨”

And so, as the days passed, Y/N’s presence quietly wove itself into the rhythm of ENHYPEN’s world — not as a guest, not as an outsider, but as something steady. Real. Honest.

Even after everything — the letters, the private meeting, the slowly blossoming bond with the members — Y/N never stopped being a fan first. It was something Jay loved about her. That no matter how close she became, no matter how often she found herself in their practice room or dorms, her admiration never dulled. If anything, it glowed brighter when she watched them from a distance.

So when ENHYPEN began promoting their latest comeback and the whirlwind of music show stages, award appearances, and fan events picked up again, Y/N quietly took a different role. One she cherished more than she expected — that of a supporter, down below the stage, behind the cameras, amid the fans.

She was always careful — hidden in plain sight. A hoodie. A cap. No cameras. No lightsticks raised. Just her, in the middle rows, sometimes with a staff member nearby pretending to be her manager or simply a friend. Her eyes never left the stage once ENHYPEN walked out.

And every single time, her heart raced.

Fans started catching on.

It began with whispers on Twitter:

“I was at the recording today and swear someone in row 5 looked just like H.G.” “Girl was lowkey wearing Jay’s hoodie design. Couldn’t see her face tho.” “Why does it feel like H.G. still goes to their stages?? That’s kind of romantic.” “She watches like us. That’s wild. Imagine being that close and still choosing to cheer from the crowd.”

Then came the fan cams — not of ENHYPEN, but of the audience.

In one clip, a camera caught Jay giving a very brief glance toward a specific row, and nodding with the faintest smirk before the chorus hit. The camera panned to the audience for a second and captured a figure in a muted beige hoodie, clapping quietly.

That was enough.

“IS THAT HER IN THE BACKGROUND?” “Y’all see how he looked right before that?” “He smiled in that direction. Don’t play.” “She’s literally supporting like any other ENGENE. I’m crying.” “They could’ve easily hidden her away backstage. But she chose to be among us.”

At award shows, it became more obvious.

Y/N didn’t sit in front. She chose the far left section, always near the soundboard, where most press or guests stayed. Fans started joking that they had to “scan every low-lit corner” of every awards stage.

Then, at a major year-end award show, the camera panned the crowd during ENHYPEN’s performance. Just for a moment.

One frame.

A girl with her face tilted upward, eyes glassy, mouthing the lyrics to Polaroid Love. No lightstick. No phone. Just her and the moment.

Jay had looked down during that same verse and sang right into the crowd.

“That girl in the beige with no phone... I’m telling you, that’s her.” “She sang along like the song was just for her.” “Jay NEVER sings into the crowd unless he sees someone. That was a moment.” “I think I love H.G. now. Like genuinely. The devotion???” “Imagine having the world watching you and still choosing to sit in the dark just to support him quietly.”

Jay walked into the dressing room, a towel over his neck, sweat beading down his temples. He was still catching his breath.

“She was there, wasn’t she?” Jungwon asked, smirking.

Jay only gave a subtle nod, his lips parting in a quiet smile.

“Every time you see her down there, you perform different,” Sunghoon added, sitting down beside him.

“I don’t mean to,” Jay admitted. “It’s just… she sees me like no one else does. It’s not about perfection with her. She sees everything — the nerves, the slips, the strain. And still cheers. Still stays.”

Sunoo tossed him a water bottle. “She’s your biggest fan, hyung. And honestly, I think she always will be.”

Later that night, Jay posted on Weverse:

“When I look down, sometimes I see someone who reminds me of where it all started. It keeps me grounded. Thank you, whoever you are. You know who you are.”

The comments lit up:

“HE’S TALKING ABOUT H.G. I KNOW IT.” “She’s really there… watching from below.” “Honestly, it’s kind of poetic.” “We love you, H.G. Keep watching him the way you always have.”

Y/N stayed in the crowd for as long as she could. Not for secrecy. Not for fear.

But because, in her heart, even if the world knew her name now… She would always be the girl who loved him from the crowd first.

And that’s something she never wanted to let go.

The nights had grown longer lately.

Not because of practice. Not because of schedules. But because Jay couldn’t stop thinking about her — not just as the girl from the crowd, not just as H.G., but as Y/N.

The girl who once handed him a letter at Coachella, then disappeared like a dream.

The girl who sat cross-legged beside him in the practice room now, humming softly when she thought no one was listening. Who wore a cap and mask to keep herself hidden from fans, but whose smile made him feel more seen than any spotlight ever could.

The girl who had been his fan — but who, without realizing it, had become his person.

He had tried to wait. Tried to be respectful of the pace she needed, the reality she had been thrown into. But love, he was learning, wasn’t something you could just file away until the timing felt perfect.

Because every time she was near — helping Sunghoon stretch before rehearsal, laughing with Ni-ki over a choreography blooper, catching his eye and flashing him that quiet smile — his heart whispered louder:

“Tell her.”

It was a quiet evening. The members had just wrapped up a pre-recording, and Jay invited Y/N to the rooftop garden of the HYBE building — one of the only places where they could be alone, yet surrounded by city lights that made the moment feel cinematic.

Y/N followed, hands in her jacket pockets, her cap pulled low.

“I didn’t know there was a rooftop garden here,” she whispered as she stepped out, the wind brushing against her sleeves.

Jay smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I come here when I need to breathe. Thought I’d show you.”

They walked together in silence at first, Y/N peeking over the rail to admire the Seoul skyline.

Jay, meanwhile, studied her in the soft orange glow of the rooftop lights — her profile, her stillness, the quiet steadiness she carried even in a whirlwind world.

Finally, he exhaled. “Y/N…” She turned toward him, curious. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he said, voice softer than usual. “And not just because of what you did at Coachella. Or the letter. Or the fanmeet.”

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable.

“It’s more than that,” he continued. “You didn’t just leave a mark on me as H.G. You became someone I want to see in all parts of my life — not just beside the stage, not just in the mirror’s reflection. But… right here. Always.” Y/N blinked, heart thudding in her chest.

“I know this world is scary,” Jay said. “Especially now that more people are watching. And I would never, never, pressure you into something you’re not ready for. But I want you to know—”

He stepped a little closer.

“—I like you, Y/N. Not because you were my fan. But because you’re you. Kind, steady, funny in your quiet ways. You see people. You see me. Not the idol. Just… Jongseong.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

“I wanted to tell you now because…” Jay smiled shyly. “Because I think part of me fell for you the day I read your letter. And the rest of me? I fell the moment you stood in the middle of our practice room, dancing like no one was watching.”

She laughed at that, a soft, almost teary sound. Jay continued, “So… if you feel the same — even just a little — I want to take this one step at a time with you. Together.”

Y/N was silent for a moment. The wind brushed strands of her hair from her face. Then, with slightly trembling hands, she reached up and pulled off her cap, letting herself be seen, just for him.

“I didn’t think I’d fall for someone I was supposed to admire from afar,” she whispered. “But I did. Somewhere between the music and your smile… I did.”

Jay’s chest rose and fell, relief and happiness blooming in every inch of him. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “But I’m also really glad it’s you.”

Without thinking, Jay gently took her hand. Warm. Real. And very much here.

“You don’t have to be scared alone,” he murmured. “You never have to be alone again.”

They stood there on the rooftop for a while, fingers loosely interlaced, saying nothing. The silence between them wasn’t heavy — it was peaceful. Safe.

For the first time, Y/N allowed herself to lean on someone. For the first time, Jay felt what it meant to be seen beyond the flashing lights and endless applause.

And under the stars, where only the wind could hear them, their story — once a quiet secret passed through a letter — began its next chapter with the softest, sweetest truth:

They had found each other.

[spookshollow]

My Sweet Siren

Every time I would just listen to old songs I always get some inspiration to write for Sanji I just don't know why!😅 anyway this is set during the Baratie and the reader is a singer there, anyway hope you enjoy! Certain things are changed to make it fitted in the story

Masterlist

Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

(Y/N) the most beautiful singer of the Baratie, to Sanji's eyes she's the best thing of the Baratie, it's the only time he enjoys being a waiter cause he could listen to her sing and be mesmerised by her beauty,

Whenever it was closing time he always wanted to talk to her, to be near her but she was always gone before he could talk to her.

You always enjoy singing, you love the attention that you got, but you loved the attention more when Sanji was watching you, butterflies begin to form in your stomach whenever you would see Sanji standing near the stage watching you give a performance of a lifetime,

Zeff sees the way you two would look at each other, and he often just rolled his eyes and scoff, he always thinks that it was completely ridiculous,

It was one of those nights when you were about to preform, as Sanji was arguing with Zeff once again, he stormed out of the kitchen pissed off but his anger quickly fade when he had seen you, looking beautiful as always about to preform,

Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart?

Will I Be The Girl For You?

Will You Promise All Your Love To Me

As I Promise Mine To You?

Sanji smiled as he walked up to a table with new guests that had come to the Baratie, "hello welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing is good is our singer, my name is Sanji what can I get you?"

As Sanji taking the new people's orders, you can't help but look over at him, as you sing your heart out, the green hair man took note of you looking over at Sanji and pointed it out at the waiter, "it seems she really likes you waiter?" He glared at him for a moment before glancing over seeing (Y/N) looking directly at Sanji,

Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart?

Starting Now Until The End?

Will You Always Stay Close By My Side,

And On You Can I Depend?

You winked at him, in which he smirk up at you before returning his focus on the guest telling them he will get their food right away, he walked passed you as you felt your cheeks go red when he smiled softly at you, completely entrance by you,

And As Time Goes On And On,

Will We Laugh And Still Have Fun?

Will You Ways Be Sweet As They Are,

And Will I Be Your Only One?

Sanji walked back from the kitchen with the food that is for the guest, they thanked him and he went to a corner near a the stage watching you sing, it has always been like this way, but Sanji really want to talk to you, but with this job takes so much of his time he could never get a chance to,

Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart,

Will We Share All Things In Life?

Will You Always Love Me Faithfully,

Will I Someday Be Your Wife?

Just then completely drunken Pirates started whistling and becoming rowdy, annoying Sanji very much, knowing when they get so rowdy like this, fights will start, (Y/N) knows this and started to feel uncomfortable but continued on singing the final lyrics knowing she must finish her song,

Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart,

Will We Share All Things In Life?

Will You Always Love Me Faithfully,

Will I Someday Be Your Wife?

Please Don't Ever Stop Loving Me,

Let's Be Sweethearts All Through Life!

"I'll be your sweetheart honey if you give me a chance" (Y/N) yelped when one of the pirates start grabbing her dress, Sanji ran up to the pirates kicked him so hard he landed ontop of a dinning table, breaking it completely in half,

"Do not touch the lady" he gritted his teeth looking at the other pirates to see who wants to go first, the man in the straw hat looked in surprise, "he is a good fighter"

Just then another pirate try to charge at Sanji, but he was no match against Sanji and his kicks, as the guy fall across the floor, holding his side in pain, "anyone else wants to face me?" The rest of the drunken pirates scatter away, carrying away the two injured men with them, Sanji looked up to you and got up on the stage, he had his hand around your waist and the other on the cheek softly caressing your cheek, "are you okay?" He whispered softly you replied with a smile and a nodded,

He was slightly relieved you were fine, placing a sweet kiss upon your head, just then Zeff called out as Sanji looked over to see him standing there next to the broken tables, "what's all this boy?" He shouted in anger, Sanji sighted in annoyances and (Y/N) couldn't help but giggled quickly planting a kiss on Sanji's lips, surprising him, "I'll wait for you at the kitchen tonight" and you quickly scurried away, passing the new guest,

"That Waiter sure is a good fighter miss" you looked over at the man in the straw hat smiling towards him, "well that's Sanji, he is the best fighter of the Baratie"

[vodika-vibes]

Okay, silly ask and you can decline if you don’t do the pregnancy stuff! But I was thinking a Crosshair x reader where they were an item pre-O66, and then the Kaller and brainwashing happened and they went separate ways because, ya know, chip went: “yo kill your brothers those hoes ain’t loyal.” While they’re separated, reader finds out she’s pregnant, and Crosshair only finds out when he lures the rest of the batch back to Kamino and they’re in that training room.

(Bonus if the rest of the batch only found out semi-recently too because reader’s mentality was “okay, I’m pregnant, no biggie. I’ll tell them later when it actually becomes an issue” and Tech figured it out right away but never said anything either)

That's What Family Does

Summary: Being pregnant sucks. Being pregnant with the baby of a man who’s actively hunting the people keeping you safe is worse. The fact that you still love him is just the icing on the “bad year” cake. Still, you probably should have listened to Hunter when he told you to stay on the Marauder rather than risk Crosshair seeing you. Ah well, you’ve never been the best at listening.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1771

Warnings: Pregnancy and Childbirth, and complicated relationships

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: So, I know next to nothing about childbirth, on account that I'm both childfree and infertile, so it's never been something that I had to worry about. So I did almost no research on this topic. Also, I've still never watched TBB, so I played around with...everything. But this has also been half-written for the better part of two weeks, and I just needed inspiration to strike me. Anyway, I hope you like it!

“You just had to come with us, didn’t you?” Hunter hisses as he shoves you behind Wrecker, “Why don’t you ever listen?”

“Because you’re not my mother,” You hiss right back at him, as you grab the over-large shirt that Echo’s been trying to shove over your head for the last five minutes and pull it on. It does…very little to hide your stomach. But then, the boys, and Omega, have only recently found out about your pregnancy. And only because you finally started showing and couldn’t hide it anymore.

Needless to say, Hunter and Echo weren’t thrilled about the sudden surprise. Wrecker was torn between excitement and dismay. And Omega…well, she’s been bubbling with excitement since she found out.

“Great, now we have to keep anyone from finding out that you are 8 months pregnant with a clone baby.” Hunter grouses, “Omega, stay with her.”

Omega nods rapidly, and wraps her arms around you, “I’ll bite anyone who tries to touch her.”

Absently, you pet Omega’s head and glare at Hunter, “Well, if you don’t say the words ‘clone’ and ‘baby’ next to each other, no one will ever know.”

“Yes, because your relationship with Crosshair was the best-kept secret on Kamino,” Hunter replies, deadpan, “there’s absolutely no way that anyone will ever figure out that you're pregnant with his baby.”

“Okay, tone down the sass, Mister. It’s not helping.”

Hunter grabs your shoulders, “You irk me. You’re irksome.”

“Hey! I’m pregnant, you can’t talk to me like that!”

For a moment, you think Hunter is going to shake you, but he stops when Tech taps his back, “He is here.”

Abruptly, you’re shoved back behind Wrecker and Echo, nearly tripping over Omega who’s still wrapped around you, and you only manage to catch a glimpse of Crosshair. 

His face is pinched and angry-looking, and you see his hand twitching towards his blaster.

Oh, you really hope that this doesn’t turn into a firefight. You don’t want to have to explain to your baby how they don’t have a dad because he got himself killed.

That would be awkward.

The nice thing is you’ve sped through all five stages of grief, and have just accepted that Crosshair isn’t the man you thought he was. And here you thought you were going to need, like, so much therapy to come to terms with it.

“Hunter.” Crosshair’s voice is cold. Colder than you’ve ever heard before. 

“Cross,” Hunter sounds tense, and you feel a pang of guilt. He wouldn’t be half as stressed if you and Omega just stayed on the ship. If you get out of this alive, and, you know, not a prisoner of the Empire, you should make him some apology cookies.

There’s a tense silence and Wrecker adjusts his weight slightly. You can tell by his body language, Echo’s too, that if this turns violent, the pair of them will remove you and Omega from the scene. Then again, that does tend to be their job most of the time.

“I assume you’re here to surrender.” Crosshair says. You know him better than anyone, you can tell he doesn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. 

Hesitantly, you peek around Wrecker and Crosshair sees you immediately. His sharp gaze lingers on you for a moment, and you see something like regret flicker across his face, though it vanishes as soon as Echo shoves you back behind Wrecker. 

“You have to leave the doctor behind,” Crosshair says flatly.

“No,” Tech says immediately.

“She belongs to the Empire.”

“Technically, my contract is with the Republ—” You counter, indignently.

“Stop talking!” Hunter, Tech, and Echo say in unison and you close your mouth without finishing your thought.

Hunter glances at you, and then at Crosshair, “She’s not a slave, Crosshair. She can come and go as she pleases.”

You can hear the argument continuing in the background, but you’re not really listening anymore.

Something doesn’t feel right.

And then you’re slammed with a cramp so intense that your legs nearly buckle. Your hand lands heavily on Omega’s shoulder and you exhale sharply. “Are you okay?” The little girl whispers, doing her best to not draw too much attention to herself…or you.

“We need to get back to the Marauder.” You say though clenched teeth.

“That’s the plan, but—”

“Meg.” You interrupt her, “I’m pretty sure I’ve just gone into labor.” You keep your voice very, very calm, not wanting to scare her, but she stares at you with wide eyes.

“WHAT!?” The men stop arguing at Omega’s panicked shout and turn towards her. “You…you can’t! It’s too early! You’re only 8 months!” Omega continues, her voice pitching high in her panic.

You don’t answer her. Can’t answer her, really, because you’re too busy trying to breathe through the waves of pain that kind of make you want to cry, scream, and throw up all at the same time.

You’re pretty sure you’d sell all of the clones on Kamino for some pain medicine.

You’re also pretty sure that that’s the pain talking and you’ll feel bad for having that thought as soon as you’re no longer in labor.

The waves of pain fade enough for you to recognize that your boys are in the middle of panicking around you. Panicking and not helping you.

Great.

Lovely.

Super.

You reach out and grab Wrecker’s forearm, “I need to get to a bed, preferably on the Marauder, because if I have to give birth in a training room, I’m going to murder all of you.” You say through gritted teeth.

And then Crosshair is there, his gaze lingering on your stomach, and if you were feeling even remotely charitable you’d say that he looks guilty and hurt.

But, you’re in so much pain right now that you really couldn’t care less.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” He asks.

You grab him by the collar of his armor, “I am in the process of pushing a watermelon out a hole the size of a lemon. And it’s all your fault.” You snap, “I need to get to the Marauder.”

“...you know it takes two people to make a baby, kitten—”

The string of curses that fall from your lips after his comment, is enough that the boys push themselves into high gear and then rush you back to the ship. 

24 hours of hard labor later, your babies are finally here.

And you finally know why you went into labor early.

Turns out you were pregnant with twins. Twin girls, to be specific.

Right now they’re sleeping in a cradle that Echo stole from Kamino, wrapped in a black and a red blanket specifically.

So far, Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega have come to meet the babies. But no Crosshair, though you know he’s still on the ship.

Hunter said that Crosshair refused to leave while you were still in labor. And now that they’re born, he wants to raise them with you.

It’s a nice thought, you suppose. Aside from the whole “wanting to kill his brothers” thing.

Plus, he still hasn’t come to meet the babies.

You tilt your head to the side as one of the babies yawns widely and then falls back to sleep. You hear the door slide open and then shut again. When you look up, you see Crosshair standing, awkwardly, at the door.

He’s dressed in his blacks and isn’t armed.

Hunter probably told him no weapons in the medbay. He’s a good brother-in-law, you’re lucky to have him.

“They’re cute.” Crosshair says as he walks over to the babies and peers down at them.

“They look like wrinkly potatoes.” You correct.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that?”

“I just spent 24 hours pushing them out of my vagina. If I want to call them potatoes, then I’m going to call them potatoes.”

“Ah,” He’s quiet for a moment, “Are you…okay? There was a lot of blood, Tech said.”

“Yeah, well���he had a bunch of my blood stored up for this scenario. Just in case.” You admit with a shrug, “I’ll recover. I’m going to be weak for a while though.”

“What are you naming them?”

“...I dunno. I was only expecting one baby, not two.” You pull your blanket up higher, “You’re such an overachiever.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Whatever. I’m too tired to be properly angry.” You pause, “We are going to have to talk, Crosshair.”

He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah. I know.”

“You walked away.”

“I know.”

“And it was easy for you to do. How could it be so easy for you to walk away?”

He sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Would you have even come with us if I didn’t go into labor?” You ask.

Crosshair shakes his head, “I don’t know.” He pauses, “You’re mad.”

“I think I have good cause to be mad, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He’s quiet for a moment, “A condition of me staying with you and the twins is getting the chip out. And no weapons until they’re sure that I’m not going to try to hurt anyone.”

“Let me guess…Hunter?”

Crosshair nods, “He’s very…protective.”

“He always has been. But Hunter was the one who let me cry on his shoulder when you walked away. He might be a bit angrier at you than anyone else.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You shrug, “Well, you did.”

The pair of you fall into a, slightly, awkward silence, and then you sigh, “Luna.”

“Sorry?”

“The twin with the silver hair, I’m going to call her Luna, I think.” Crosshair blinks at you, and then glances at the babies, finally noticing that one of the babies has his coloring, while the other one has yours.

“And what about her sister?”

“Don’t you want to name one?”

He looks momentarily surprised, and then he glances at the baby who looks like you, “Willow. I want to name her Willow.”

You tilt your head curiously.

Crosshair doesn’t acknowledge your silent question for a moment, and then a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, “The first date we went on was a picnic under a willow tree.”

“...I’m surprised you remembered that.”

“It’s important.”

You watch him for a moment, and then laugh softly, “Alright. Luna and Willow, then.” You allow your gaze to linger on Crosshair as he looks over the twins, and your smile widens.

The both of you aren’t okay. There are a lot of wrongs that need to be righted. But…well, he’s here. And you can’t help but think that that’s a step in the right direction.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dancing With Visions - Without Any Hesitation - Kinich - Lambada

Author Notes: This was actually my first time writing Kinich, but the fic came together pretty quickly and I'm pretty satisfied with it. The tidbit about Lambada being known as a 'Forbidden Dance' is actually something I picked up from my research. Ditto with the short skirts that used to be worn by performers which led to being called the 'Forbidden Dance.' The dance in this fic was highly inspired by the lambada performance by Leo Bruno & Romina Hidalgo to “Unforgettable” by French Montana ft. Swae Lee. This fic was also written to the instrumental version of the same song. I hope you enjoy

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist

Type: Female reader/ fluff/ sfw/ feelings sort of implied but can be platonic/ featuring Mualani and Xilonen/

Word count: 1795

I walked through the Children of Echoes tribe with Kinich, glancing around at all of the people around us. 

Some were dancing on stages while others grooved off to the side to the music and clapped along to the beat.

It was a common scene here and was simply the culture of this tribe. Always lively, filled with complicated beats, and dancing people everywhere.

But right now all I could really wonder about was whether the dance competition would use a stage like one of these and if it would be as crowded there.

Because for me, unlike so many of these other dancers, performing was going to be a new thing. 

I’d only ever really danced for my own enjoyment, where others weren’t really around. 

Well, except for Kinich, of course. But he was different. He was my partner, and I knew there was going to be very little, if any, judgment from him.

Sure, Ajaw might be mouthy at times, but half the time Kinich put him in time out anyway.

I felt myself relax slightly as I spotted the form of Xilonen just up ahead. Because if she was here, competing in a dance-off, then absolutely no one was going to be looking at me.

It was true that I’d never seen her dance much, but I had seen her on her roller skates and just moving around in general, and there was always an easy, if lazy, sort of elegance to her motions.

And she wasn’t alone. Mualani was also there and quite obviously raring to go as well as excited as she visibly brightened as soon as she saw me and Kinich, “Kinich! Y/n!! Over here!” 

Mualani wasted no time in beckoning us over as the taller woman turned to glance our way, blinking slightly before turning to face us fully with a slight smile on her face, “I didn’t know you two were going to be competing.” 

I lifted my shoulder in a half-shrug, offering an awkward smile as we walked over, “Neither did we until just a little bit ago. Wayna said we ought to come though, so that the Scions of the Canopy would have some competitors.”

Mualani leaned over, winking at me before she bumped Kinich with her shoulder playfully, “If I’d known you were competing, I would’ve asked to partner up with you rather than taking a random partner.”

I smiled as I watched the two of them. And as always, Mualani was far more exuberant than the characteristically stoic Kinich, who crossed his arms before glancing her way, “I went and got Y/n as soon as Wayna asked me to compete.”

Xilonen’s eyebrows lifted, and she glanced my way while Mualani cooed out a far-too-teasing, “Oh,” before the taller lady glanced back over towards Kinich with a slight tilt to her head, “He asked you to compete?”

Kinich merely nodded, apparently unmoved by Mualani’s teasing or Xilonen’s question, and I felt myself sigh before I answered the blacksmith as I gestured over towards Kinich vaguely, “More like he got commissioned.”

Xilonen snorted at my words, but both women nodded. Neither of them in the slightest surprised that Kinich was definitely going to be getting paid for this. But then Mualani glanced my way, a playful glint in her eye that let me know her teasing was far from over, “You must be pretty good at dancing, though, if Kinich asked you to be his partner.”

She was all smiles as I laughed slightly, shrugging slightly only for Kinich to answer for me in his usual nonchalant fashion, “I’ve danced with her before.”

Mualani blinked at his words, her eyes widening briefly in surprise before she bobbed her head with an overly pleased smile as Xilonen eyed us. Her head tilting slightly before she turned to face the cleared-out area with a hum, “Looks like we’re getting started.”

And in mere moments the first two dancers' names were getting called, and I felt my eyes widen in mild alarm. 

“Y/n and Kinich dancing the lambada!”

Mualani gave a little cheer and applauded as Kinich started forward and I hurried after him. Faltering only slightly before I matched his stride and walked into the cleared-out area, feeling myself exhale slightly as he glanced my way.

Because this was what I’d been bracing myself for the entire time and the reason I’d been distracted the entire time we’d been chatting with Mualani and Xilonen.

Performing. Especially when lambada had the reputation of being a ‘forbidden’ dance, of all things. 

Just because the lyrics to the songs used for lambada often had rather naughty lyrics and many of the female dancers wore incredibly short skirts in the past didn’t mean it had to be a particularly dirty dance.

There were plenty of other styles that involved close contact between the dancers, after all. But the lambada’s reputation had always left me feeling antsy about ever performing.

And that was why I’d been surprised when Kinich had shown up at my house, out of nowhere, and asked me to be his partner for a competition that I hadn’t even known was taking place until today.

He knew about my mixed feelings in regards to performing and, even if he didn’t share them himself, had always respected them.

But I’d agreed quickly, and I knew it had nothing to do with his offer to split his commission reward with me.

Rather, I agreed because Kinich was always the person I danced with. Whether it was at home or while we were just messing around some place else. He was my dance partner and had been since early on. And I genuinely enjoyed dancing with him.

There was something so easy about it all that made me relax while we were together, whether we were dancing or just sitting together.

All of those reasons, as well as my honest fondness for him, were probably why the mere act of standing here with Kinich made this far easier than it would have been with anyone else.

And I couldn’t deny that, even though Mualani had just been teasing, it had been heartwarming to hear him assert that I’d been his first choice without any hesitation whatsoever.

I lightly rested my hand on his shoulder, stepping closer to him until there was minimal space between us as his arm wrapped around my upper back until his hand rested against my side.

And, as naturally as could be, our free hands raised until they connected as the beat hit, and we both began to move to the rhythm.  

We shifted along, our motions matching the rolling beat even as we shifted and spun out so that we were only connected by our interlocked hands until we looked towards one another.

My other hand reached out for his, and we bent at the knees together, sashaying our way down, and I felt a smile flicker across my face as we straightened once more and he let go of my hand. Moving forwards with his arm wrapping around behind him so that my hand could catch his as we passed by one another.

Our motions continued to roll along. One into the other as we constantly shifted. First in front of one another, then back to back, then side by side, and then facing one another yet again.

He led me around the floor easily. Spinning me from place to place without even the slightest hesitation to his motions, even though half the time he was leading with only one hand, which either held my own or rested relaxedly against my waist.

And even though our motions were relatively fast and filled to the brim with movements that rolled directly from one into the next, it was easy to relax as I danced with Kinich. 

I was already finding that I was surprisingly unbothered. Because even despite the crowd of people around us, it was just like dancing at home, in my living room, where no one else would be watching.

Distantly, I realized there were people clapping along as we danced. But I could hardly question it as Kinich twirled me across the floor. Occasionally shifting so that he would be behind me and we would both spin together until he shifted back around so that he’d be directly in front of me. Never with very much space between us.

It was easy to keep up our pacing, though. Almost as if it were second nature to us by now.

We parted, spinning separately, but it wasn't long until I felt his arm wrap back around me. Tugging me back towards him until I was securely in his hold once more.

There were moments where it almost felt like we were all tangled up together. Our arms interweaving and sliding past one another as we shifted constantly around the floor. Maintaining our steady rhythm as more and more people clapped along to the music.

He stepped back, leaning towards me as he gripped one of my hands in his while his other arm wrapped around my waist, and I leaned back. Lightly kicking up one leg as I leaned into the dip with a smile that widened as he pulled me back upright. His gaze briefly meeting mine before he swung us into a rotation where he walked around me lightly before whirling me into a twirl.

Our arms raised together, crossing in the middle as we peered between them at each other before he let go of my hands as I briefly caught my breath.

His hands were light in their touch against my forearms as he pushed them down in a wide arching motion. His eyes locked onto mine as his palms wrapped the rest of the way around my arms to grip them and swing them around him in a loose embrace that barely reached completion before we were in motion again.

We finished before long, though, him spinning me out so that we stood side by side once more. Just like how we’d walked onto the floor together. 

But this time we looked towards one another, his gaze holding mine steadily as I smiled back at him before we bowed as applause rang out. With Mualani in particular cheering loudly and jumping in place.

And even now, I had no doubt that we weren’t actually going to win. But we had still put on a performance we could be proud of. And by the end of it, I’d actually enjoyed myself. Even if I suspected that was largely due to the comfort of having danced with Kinich rather than anyone else. And I could honestly say that at this point, it was possibly one of the best dances we’d ever done.

If you would like to read more:

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Next: Coming Soon!

[greeneyed-thestral]

I MET MICHAEL SHEEN. 16/03/24, National Theatre

So, if you've read my post about booking tickets to see Michael, you know all about my what-ifs. But the day was finally here.

I arrived at the National Theatre, followed all the Nye signs and here's the Olivier Theatre. I made my sister buy me the show's programme, hoping I would be able to get it signed.

I find my seat, I'm not in the centre but the stage still feels very close and you can see everything (amphitheatres are always the best).

Lights out. The audience is in religious silence. Can't believe I'm actually here, this is happening.

[skip this part in smaller font, if you want to avoid spoilers] In the words of Staged, he really loses himself in his roles. First of all, it's great to hear him speak in a Welsh accent.

But then we also see him turning back into a child, and you can totally believe he's young and innocent again. His stutter feels so real, his struggle and sadness too. The entire ensamble is great during the classroom scene, where they all help Nye against their bullying teacher (using those big canes to make him look scary really works). Hearing young Nye confessing that at times he thinks he 'shouldn't exist' because of who he is was a gut punch; Michael's delivery of that whole part is incredible, in that moment he really becomes a little boy that allows himself to feel vulnerable and says something dark to a friend. The way he jumps while saying "I can visualise and enunciate!" made me wanna jump too, he was ready to give up and then he found the solution through books, it's the joy and relief you feel when you realise that there is another way and your life is not over.

Now, I've watched musicals all my life and let me tell you that man is meant to be in one. He opened his mouth and all I could see was someone that had been waiting a long time for the occasion to show his talent, truly showstopping. He was so free and happy and confident, singing and dancing spectacularly. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, we all clapped.

It's clear he means every word he says, and when he points and shouts his political arguments at the audience, those who feel called out must be shaking; I thought 'This is how people in Ancient Greece must have felt everytime they went to the theatre'. His Nye is inspiring, passionate, someone you'd want to follow, he stands up for what he believes in and lets nothing get in his way.

We get to watch him flirt, on all fours, waggling his 'tail'; everytime we think we've seen all he's capable of, he does something like this and surprises us.

But most of all, we see him being scared, first of having to do something, and then of not being able to do enough for all of us. At one point everyone has requests for Nye and I was expecting him to shout "Heal yourselves!" like Jesus in JCS, it totally conveyed what it must have been like to be in his role at the time, overwhelmed with daunting responsibilities.

In general, I appreciated the fact that it wasn't a linear biography, they chose life moments that have universal situations everyone can relate too, like they do in bio-musicals. I loved the staging. The colour palette is so recognisable; the curtains and the beds are used in many different ways so everything is explored at its full potential.

He is on stage basically all the time for more than two hours (sometimes twice a day, can you imagine?). Also barefoot and in his pajamas from start to finish, he looks like a teddy bear you just want to hug and protect.

He bows, looks at Nye's achievements, then leaves the stage.

Standing ovation, applause. I go back to the theatre lobby, I was supposed to wait for my sister, but she's late. Meanwhile, a fan asks me how to get to the Stage Door. I start too fear that I'm going to miss my chance if I keep waiting inside, so I decide to go on my own. After no more than 5 minutes, he's outside with us. Forget Nye, I am living my fever dream. He has just finished his second show of the day and yet he's smiling and listening to each and every one, signing and taking pictures. I know many have said this, but he really is an angel.

My sister arrives, and as soon as I'm sure she has the camera ready, I make my way to him. The two girls next to me who were speaking to him needed a pen and I lent them my sharpie, so I got my chance to look generous in front of him.

And suddently it was my turn. This is as much as my scrambled mind allows me to remember: I tell him I'm Francesca and I'm from Italy, he asks me how long I am going to stay, I confess that I had arrived that morning and just to see him, that I would be leaving already the following morning. I can't even focus while he's signing my programme, I just want to find the right words. I manage to say how I enjoyed seeing his passion, all these different sides of him and how watching him sing and dance has been the highlight of my evening. We take a picture together, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I realise my arm is around the waist of this person I love. I had to thank him again, telling him that he only deserves good things and that we are so lucky to have him. He wishes me a safe trip home, and I melt. I leave and I can't stop trembling. On my way back to the hotel I hold on tight to my signed programme and the sharpie that was in his hands just moments earlier. Only later I will realise that he's also written 'Ciao!', 'love' and 'X', without me asking for it or anything! Seeing him act live was a big gift already, but what followed outside was beyond my dreams. I can't look at the photos without blushing, the way he looks at me in the video and then also strokes my arm for a moment, I mean pinch me now.

The more I think about it, the more I can't believe it happened.

I want to thank everyone that under my first post pushed me and encouraged me to see the pros of doing this, I share this beautiful moment of my life with all of you. <3

[sunny44]

Model

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Warning: none

Summary: Y/n is studying to be a fashion designer and for her final college project she has to design a collection of clothes, but after designing and making all the clothes she thinks it's not good enough so Charles does everything he can to make her believe that her work is wonderful.

I was very nervous.

It was my last semester at college and I was doing my final project, which I thought would be easy since I only had to create a collection of clothes but it was harder than I thought.

I'd never had a problem finding my work beautiful and good but it seemed that nothing I was doing lately was good but after a while I got to the point where if I didn't start making the clothes I wouldn't be able to deliver them on time.

Luckily I have a wonderful boyfriend who as well is letting me use his body measures and didn't mind that the living room of his apartment was completely messed up with bits of thread and fabric lying all over the floor.

When I started this project, the first thing that came to mind was a collection of women's clothes as most of my class would do since it was the safest option, but since I like to take risks I ended up opting for men's clothes.

"Love, are you all right?" he asked after seeing me almost biting my finger off.

"Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is good enough."

"Y/n, you need to believe in yourself more. Your work is incredible and I'm really looking forward to seeing it."

I looked at him almost crying with happiness at having him on my side.

"Thank you, Charlie. I just want this collection to be perfect."

"There's no such thing as perfect, Y/n." he replied in a calm tone. "It's not because your collection doesn't suit one person that someone else won't like it too, there are different perspectives."

"I know, it's just that I'm very nervous." He sits down next to me on the floor and hugs me.

"I know and it's going to be okay, now show me how it's going."

I showed him the pieces and made a point of explaining the creative process and the inspiration behind each of the outfits.

"Babe, this is wonderful." Charles finally said. "I'm impressed and honored that I am your muse ."

"Are you really? Don't lie to me."

"And when have I ever lied to you?"

"Never."

"Then trust me when I say it's wonderful."

I snuggled closer into his embrace and we sat there in the living room together while I hoped my project was as good as Charles says it is.

...

I walked into the college with the portfolio in my hand and Joris was pushing a trolley with four mannequins where the clothes were fitted.

"Oh my God." I turned desperately to him. "I forgot the photos of you wearing the clothes."

"No you didn't, they're with me." I breathed a sigh of relief and we went to the room where the presentations would take place.

"Well, the next work to be presented is Miss Y/n Y/L/N's." I got up on the small stage and positioned the mannequins.

"Good morning everyone, my name is Y/n and the inspiration behind my clothes is my boyfriend." They analyzed the clothes. "In case you didn't know, he's a driver and I used him as my inspiration because in the last two years of college he was the person who supported me the most, especially in this last project."

"I was inspired by Ferrari, which is the team he races for in F1 so I was inspired by that to create the collection." I said as the teacher leafed through the portfolio. "Well here are some pictures of the clothes on the model."

I clicked to show the pictures and sure enough they weren't the ones I was expecting, Charles was the model wearing all the clothes I had made.

"Nice model." My teacher says.

"Well, that wasn't the one I had chosen, but thank you." She smiles. "Well, these were the four final pieces I decided to make."

My colleagues stood up and walked over to the mannequins and began to analyze them.

"Well, I have to admit that in all the years I've been teaching I've never had someone who impressed me so much and who also got an A+."

"I got an A+?" She agreed and I heard applause coming from the classroom door and Charles was standing there smiling.

"Looks like we've got a visit from your model."

"That's my boyfriend actually."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He says and my girl colleagues almost drool over him.

"No problem darling, make yourself at home." She says and continues with the introductions while I go over to him.

"You didn't tell me you were going to model the clothes, I thought Joris was going to do that."

"I asked him not to tell you because I wanted to surprise you and also show you that I believe in you and that I will always support you the same way you support me." I smiled and kissed him.

"Let's watch the other works and then we can go out for lunch."

"Great." We sat and watched the rest of the presentations and I could finally breathe a sigh of relief after knowing that I had made it.

Bonus scene!

Charlesleclerc instagram post

Liked by @pierregasly, @yourusername, @pescaleleclerc and others 6273027

Charlesleclerc this is a few photos of the clothing collection that my girlfriend made for her final project in college. She is the most talented person I know and I’m so proud of her.

I love you babe and I can’t wait for you to dress me up again.

Tagged: Yourusername

Yourusername I love you so much baby and thank you for being the best boyfriend ever

Pierregasly wow, she make you look good

Charlesleclerc I always look good

Yourusername true

Scuderiaferrari I think we all agree that y/n needs to make the next year overall

Yourusername yesss please, let me do it

User08 I love them so much

User29 I need to know where I can buy her clothes

Yourusername instagram stories

This is my beautiful and hot boyfriend using the clothes that I’ve made inspired by him and his amazing team.

I just wanted to thank him for supporting and believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

I love you so much Charlie ❤️

[inmyglenpowellera]

Bad Reputation Part 1 | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Taylor Swift inspired!OC

Request: Requested by @akornsworld

Word Count: 3457 words

Summary: There's that saying for some people, “You can't go home again.” When you grow up and leave, that's it, you don't go back home. Presley Joann Benjamin (stage name Presley Jo) believed that was the case for her. Never did she think she would be right back where she started. But her Aunt insisted it was the best for her. She thought for sure her life and career were over until she meets a certain cocky aviator.

Warnings: Alcohol use, angst if you squint, maybe some cursing, fluff, some depression if you squint

A/N: This will be a multipart imagine. Not sure how many chapters there will be yet.

Part 2 Part 3

She made it. She was one of the biggest singer/songwriters this generation has ever known. She was a hit pop sensation. She went on tour, her more recent ones going international. She won many awards: Grammy's, Billboard, MTV Awards, VMA's. She had many other accomplishments she was proud of and didn't think she would even come close to experiencing what she had. Things were going great… until they weren't.

Things started to go downhill, and they went downhill fast. Her reputation was ruined. All because she refused to be used and abused in Hollywood. Everything started to fall apart. The cancel culture started to come for her. She was completely lost on what to do. Which is why she disappeared from the public eye.

She didn't answer her phone for days. Her aunt began to lose her mind and flew from San Diego to New York to see if she was even alive. What she didn't expect was to walk into her niece's loft to find her lying in her bed in the dark. Tissues and multiple bottles of alcohol littering the bed and floor. Her aunt knew then and there she couldn't survive this dark period by herself. She forced her up out of bed, demanded she take a shower, and forced her to pack her bags to come home.

Home, the place she hasn't been in about 10 years. When she was still a bright-eyed 20-year-old dreamer. The place where she got her start while working part-time at her aunt's bar as a server. Where her now ex-asshole manager discovered her. Playing and singing her heart out on that old piano in the middle of the bar, entertaining the aviators currently stationed in the area, who she was sure said they “knew her when” when she finally started becoming known.

She can't stop staring at that old piano through her sunglasses from her bar stool.

“Why don't you go play something? The only person who ever touches it anymore is Bradley,” Penny said to her niece, cleaning out a beer glass before placing it with the others.

“No thank you,” Presley said quietly, adjusting her baseball cap on her head.

“Well, can you at least take the hat and glasses off? And look at me when I'm talking to you,” Penny requested, laying her rag on the counter.

Presley huffed and turned around on her bar stool. “I'll take my glasses off and look at you but I'm keeping the hat on.”

“Presley, nobody is here right now,” Penny argued, gesturing around the empty and currently closed bar.

“Exactly, right now. But you know as well as I do that this place will be packed in less than an hour and I really don’t feel like being mobbed considering the current state of my life,” I argued back with her.

“The current state of your life that you are going to get through and fix. You're a Benjamin, nothing can stop us,” She reassured me.

I sighed in response to her words and attempted to slam my forehead down onto the bartop. However, I let out a groan in pain when I just ended up hitting the bill of my ballcap off of it instead. I heard Penny sigh and heard the telltale sound of her walking around the bar and moving to sit on the barstool next to me. She began to run her hand through the ponytail sticking out of the back of my ballcap before speaking.

“Presley, I know what you are going through right now is hard and you may feel like your life is over. But that is so far from the truth. I brought you back here not just because you needed the support, but because you needed to get back in touch with your roots. You may not believe this, but sometimes going back to where it all started helps to see where it all went wrong,” She whispered to me.

I scoffed in reply and lifted my head up. “I know where it all went wrong.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But until then, I want you to at least try to live your life. Stop focusing on what happened and focus on what could be. Don’t worry about writing your next hit or whether you will be invited to the next award show.  Focus on spending time with me and Amelia and being normal.”

I stared at her for a moment before nodding with a sigh. “Alright, fine. Where do you want me to start?”

She nodded at me gratefully before standing from the bar stool. “You can start by helping me open the bar. I know you know how to. Go to the stock room and grab what we need and then help me finish the glasses.”

I groaned in annoyance before standing from my chair and moving to do as she asked.

---------

The moment the first person walked into the bar I rushed to push my sunglasses back on my face and kept my head down and I have continued to do so since the bar opened about 30 minutes ago. The place has had people nonstop coming in and out. Aviators, soldiers, and civilians taking up the space around me. The once-quiet bar was slowly becoming louder as more people filtered in and the evening rush slowly began to take hold. 

A glass being placed in front of me caused me to look up briefly at the bartender standing there with a smile.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I smiled back at him.

“This stays between you and me. Your aunt told me not to serve you but I figured one drink wouldn’t hurt,” Jimmy told me, pointing his finger at me as if he was scolding me.

“Don’t worry. She won’t hear it from me,” I reassured him, reaching forward for the drink in front of me.

Jimmy gave me a thankful nod before moving to serve another person. I sighed and took a sip of my drink when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see another news article about me. I sighed and clicked on it, frowning at the words glaring back at me.

“Presley Jo: Where is the Princess? Has she run away to hide in her castle?”

“I’m not a princess,” I grumbled to myself, glaring at my phone as someone appeared next to me at the bar.

“Jimmy, I’ll have 6 more, and whatever the “not princess” is having,” a voice with a distinct southern accent spoke up from next to me.

I slightly raised my head and pocketed my phone, looking over at the person standing next to me through my sunglasses before looking over at Jimmy.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary, Jimmy,” I told the old man who nodded at me.

“Aw, c’mon darling. Let a nice man buy a beautiful woman a drink,” He argued with me in his accent, leaning on the bar sideways so he could look at me.

I let out a small giggle and shook my head, looking over at him and looking him over from top to bottom. Sandy blonde hair styled to perfection, bright green eyes shining in the lights of the bar, thin lips pressed into a smirk, and a khaki uniform that causes me to roll my eyes from behind my glasses and look forward. A gorgeous human being ruined by what he does for a living.

“Well howdy, John Wayne. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” I told him, grabbing the still half-full glass to take a sip.

“John Wayne,” The stranger questioned me in shock, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you prefer Eastwood,” I retorted, placing my glass back on the bar top.

I heard the aviator let out a noise that was a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle before he spoke up again.

“Well, that just hurts my feelings, sweetheart. It’s not every day I get made fun of for my accent,” He said in amusement.

“Well, I’m glad I could bring some excitement to your day,” I smiled at him sarcastically.

I heard a huff of amusement. “You know what would make it even more exciting.”

“No, but I feel like you’re going to tell me anyways, cowboy,” I said with disinterest.

“Your number.”

I scoffed in disbelief and began shaking my head with a grin. “Trust me, my number is the last thing you want buddy.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that,” He asked me curiously, leaning in closer to me.

“Because my reputation isn’t exactly the best right now… If you knew who I was you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me, I promise you that. So do yourself a favor and find someone else to court like the small-town country boy you are,” I informed him, pushing my sunglasses farther up my nose.

“Well, maybe you can give me a chance and I can prove you wrong,” He argued with me.

“Doubtful,” I muttered, taking a large gulp of my drink.

“Why don’t we start with a name? If you're so famous like you're making yourself out to be. Then I can tell you if I’ve heard anything and if I believe what I’ve heard,” He offered up.

“I am most definitely not giving you my name,” I denied immediately, shaking my head.

“Well, then how about you take off the sunglasses and the hat Hollywood? Then I can tell you if you look familiar,” He tried again.

“I am not doing that either,” I said with another shake of the head.

“You enjoy playing hard to get don’t you,” He asked me with a smirk.

“It’s not playing hard to get if there’s nothing to win,” I told him.

He stared at me in silence, causing me to look over at him. I could see a few different emotions swirling in his eyes. Admiration, desire, amusement, and what looked like affection.

“I’m Jake,” He said simply.

I stared at him for a second and nodded in response. “Cool.” 

This Jake person opened his mouth to speak again before being cut off. 

“Is Hangman bothering you, PJ,” Jimmy asked me sweetly, looking between the two of us.

“No, Jimmy. It’s fine,” I reassured the old man.

“Are you sure? Because I have no problem ringing the bell on him,” Jimmy told me, gesturing over his shoulder to my aunt's bell.

“As funny as that would be and as much as I would enjoy that, it’s not necessary,” I reassured him once again, picking my drink up and finishing it off.

Jimmy nodded at me and grabbed my now empty glass before walking away, but not without throwing a warning glare over his shoulder at this so-called “hangman.”

“So, now you know my name and my callsign. Are you still not willing to give yours up miss “PJ,” Jake questioned me.

“No, Hangman, I’m not,” I shrugged at him, beginning to stand from my barstool. “Hey Jimmy, Let Penny know I’m headed home,” I asked the old man, watching him nod at me before going about his work again.

“So you know Penny,” He asked me.

“Wow, nice deduction there Mr. Eastwood. That navy training is really doing you some good,” I said sarcastically, turning to head out the door.

“I’ll get your name eventually,” He called after me.

“Don’t bet on it, Lieutenant.”

---------

I groaned in pain at the sudden weight being thrown on top of me, a bright giggle slipping out of the person’s lips. I wrestled my hands out from underneath them and lifted them to grab the comforter covering my head. I pulled it down to see Amelia lying across me with her dog Theo running into the room and joining us in the bed.

“Amelia, why,” I groaned.

“Because mom told me to wake you up. She needs you to do something for her,” Amelia told me before hopping off the bed to leave the room, Theo following closely behind her.

I groaned tiredly before throwing my blanket off of me. I leaned over the side of the bed and gripped my sleep shorts that I had taken off before bed. I pulled them on before doing my morning routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face. I then ran a brush through my hair and pulled it up into a bun before making my way downstairs. I followed the noises I heard into the kitchen to see Aunt Penny running around trying to make breakfast for Amelia as my little cousin tried to finish up her homework at the last minute. I walked over to Amelia kissed her head and gave Theo a pat on the head, before taking a seat on the other barstool at the island.

“Morning,” I sighed out to Aunt Penny.

“Good morning. I have a few errands I need to do this morning. Is there any chance you can take Amelia to school and then go to the Hard Deck to get some of the opening duties done for me,” Aunt Penny asked me quickly, placing Amelia’s breakfast on top of her homework and causing the young girl to let out a groan of annoyance.

“Yeah, sure,” I nodded at her.

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long and should be there at around 10. And Amelia knows the drop-off procedures,” She reassured me.

“Penny, it’s fine. I know what to do and I will get Amelia to school on time,” I reassured her.

“Thank you,” she told me once again before gathering her things.

She walked around the island to place a kiss on Amelia’s head and one on my cheek before moving towards the door.

“I love you girls,” She called over her shoulder.

“Love you too,” We both called out to her.

---------

After an anxiety-ridden school drop-off and halfway through getting the bar ready for opening, Penny showed up with a thankful smile.

“Thank you,” She told me, pulling me into a hug.

“You’re welcome. I mopped, did stock, and washed the glasses. They just need to be dried and all of your paperwork needs to be done,” I explained to her, gesturing to all of the glasses sitting in drying racks.

“You are a lifesaver. How was drop off,” She asked me.

“Well, um, I have been through quite a few anxiety-inducing events in my life, but I think drop-off was the worst one to date,” I informed her with a grimace.

Penny winced at my words and nodded in agreement. “It can be bad.”

I nodded at her in agreement before moving to sit on the piano bench, my back facing the instrument to curb the need to play it. Penny looked between me and the instrument before speaking.

“Why don’t you play something while I finish up? I could use the entertainment,” She offered up, grabbing a rag to begin drying the glasses.

“No thank you,” I sighed, running my hands over my thighs to rid them of some of the sweat they built up.

“Presley, you can’t just give up music. I haven’t heard you so much as hum a note since you came home. And you've been here about two weeks now,” Penny scolded, placing her hands on her hips. “I used to have to pry you away from that piano. You couldn't stop writing and playing. You constantly had something new-”

“I’m not giving up music… and did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm just uninspired,” I interrupted her, looking at her sadly.

Penny frowned before placing her rag on the counter and leaning forward. “You're uninspired right now, but not forever. Something will bring your light back, I know it. For right now, how about you play some of your old stuff?”

I stared at her for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Fine. But I'm not singing. I'm just playing the piano.”

“That's fine with me,” She reassured me as I turned around and placed my hands on the black and white keys.

I began playing one of my songs gently and let myself get lost in the music. Meanwhile, Penny continued working behind me to prepare the bar for opening in a couple of hours. My one song turned into two, which turned into three. However, my playing stopped when I heard the front door open. I tensed up in my seat and looked over at Penny out of the corner of my eye. Penny dropped everything she was doing and immediately turned towards the person who entered the bar.

“Hangman, we don’t open for another few hours,” Penny called out to the person who walked further into the bar.

“It’s Friday, Penny. Dogfight football day. Just stopped in to get some beers for everybody before heading down to the beach,” Jake argued with her, walking over to the bar.

I could feel his eyes on me as he conversed with my aunt, causing me to turn my head slightly so he couldn’t see my face.

“Well, why don’t you head outside and I can bring them out to you,” Penny offered up.

“Nah, Pen, it’s fine. I don’t want to take up any more of your time than I need to,” Jake denied her. I listen to Penny let out a sigh before moving around the bar and gathering what he asked for. “I know that song you were playing, darling. I believe it’s called Enchanted by-,” He cut himself off when I finally looked over at him.

“Presley Jo, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eastwood,” I stated, holding my hand out to him with a blank expression on my face.

“PJ,” He hummed, gripping my hand in his own with obvious shock on his face.

“Hm, I normally just go by Presley,” I hummed out with a shrug, staring up at him.

“Mhm, Penny my dear, do you understand who is sitting in your bar right now,” Jake said in disbelief.

“Of course I do. I raised her,” Penny shrugged at him simply.

Jake turned around and looked at her in shock. “You raised one of the biggest pop stars on the face of the earth and didn’t tell anyone?”

“It’s not exactly something I go telling everybody, Hangman, no matter how proud I am of my beautiful niece. Besides, Bradshaw and Maverick know.”

“Rooster knows? Maverick I understand, but Rooster,” He asked in disbelief.

“Bradley and I grew up together. Who do you think taught me piano,” I interrupted, drawing his eyes back towards me. Jake continued to stare at me in shock and awe, causing me to slightly squirm under his gaze. “So, you going to go tell everybody I’m here? Sell a story to the media?”

Jake shook his head at me before releasing a scoff. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s what everyone else does,” I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my shirt.

“Well, Darling, I guess I’m not everyone else then,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock before speaking again. “You still want my number?”

“Hm… that, and I’d still like to buy you that drink,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock and disbelief before shaking my head at him. “You still want something to do with me after finding out who I am? Even with everything being said about me and me being canceled?”

Jake shrugged at me before stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Not all your fans believe what’s being said about you.”

My gaze softened and I couldn’t stop myself from staring into his bright green eyes. He held my gaze for a few moments before Penny cleared her throat.

“Hangman, your beers,” She said, pushing them all towards the aviator.

He removed his gaze from me to turn towards my aunt and gave her a thankful smile. He told her to keep a tab open before turning back towards me. He gave me a wink before moving towards the back door of the bar to go to the beach. I watched him walk away and out the door before removing my gaze from him and looking back at my aunt. She raised her eyebrows at me in amusement before crossing her arms over her chest.

“You gonna tell me what the hell that was?”

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

to fall in deeper - Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: this has been one of the longest things ive written on this account and i am very proud of it!!! i hope this lives up to any expectations!!! also i recommend reading the first part before reading this it is linked here!

word count: almost 2000!!!

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, julien is kinda mean, someone passes out (not the reader, the boys or muna), reader calls julien 'jay'.

inspired by the request: i lovvved your love Julien fic based on lacy SO much!!! you’re crazy talented <3 would you consider writing more parts of it? 🎀🩷 like maybe how julien falls more and more in love and maybe an eventual angry love confession from julien, and their first date/kiss?

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

When MUNA went on tour, they asked their dear friends to perform as openers. It was on billboards and spread across social media: “Boygenius and (Y/N): openers for The Greatest Band in the World”. All parties were ebullient, another few months of music, laughter, and fun. Everyone except Julien Baker, Julien wasn’t pleased when she found out you were the other opener. She despised the feeling she got in her gut when your name was mentioned, she couldn’t decide what it meant. She was torn between it being contempt or admiration. She didn’t like not knowing, she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t figure you out, let alone figure out her own feelings for you. 

So far the tour had been faring well. There were huge crowds showing up every night, all screaming out the lyrics to their favorite MUNA hits. Everything was going well, until August 6th, a Friday night. It was exceptionally hot and it was starting to take a toll on the musicians. However  they were all pushing through, they had loud fans backstage that gave them some relief from the heat and could basically get away with no shirt on stage. So far, the night was going well, besides the heat. Lucy and Julien sat in front of a large fan, while Phoebe and you stood in front of another one. MUNA was performing on stage, while you all waited until the last song, “Silk Chiffon” . It was always a nice surprise to the fans when you four came bobbing up on stage singing along, dancing with one another. 

Phoebe sighed, turning towards you “Want to go back with me to get some water?”

Your eyes darted to the right, where your water bottle stood proud and tall, still about half full. “No Pheobs I’m okay! I’ll walk with you though!” 

“Oh no dude you’re good,” The platinum blond turned to Lucy and proposed the same question.

“Yeah my water ran out like 5 minutes ago,” Lucy hopped up from her seat, moving towards an already upright Phoebe who was wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat droplets rolling off. “Be right back guys!” 

Before they turned the corner you checked the time and yelled to the singers “I think there's only two more songs till Silk Chiffon so hurry!” Lucy and Phoebe nodded to you and continued their walk to wherever they were storing the water bottles. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Julien rolling her eyes.

You turned your body to hers, you ignored her obvious irritation towards you and smiling you asked, “You good Julien? I got some water if you need it!”

“Yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” The tattooed woman replied, curtly. 

“Ohhhkay,” you said, confused by her tone. You thought for a minute going back over the day to see if you did anything that would warrant that reaction. You couldn’t find anything, but you did remember how Julien really hadn’t ever been that cordial to you, not since that night outside the restaurant where she found you crying. In a moment of panic you asked the woman sitting 5 feet from you, “Did I do something?”

Julien turned towards you, obviously dumbstruck by your question. She hesitated before responding, you could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, “No, you didn’t do anything.”

Quickly you replied, desperate to figure out where you went wrong. “You act weird around me.”

You could see a flash of panic move over Julien;s face before it was replaced with a look of annoyance. “How do I act weird around you?” Julien asked as if it was the most absurd sentence you could have chosen to have said. 

“You don’t talk to me ever, you avoid me, you don’t reply to my texts in the groupchat. Yesterday on stage you avoided me every chance you got. I get that we aren’t really close but do you have to pretend like I’m not even there? Like I don’t even matter?” Your voice started to strain towards the end of your dialogue, you could feel your eyes start to water.

“I-I don’t-” 

Julien was cut off by a very energetic Phoebe who came skipping backstage.  “We’re on stage in like a minute guys! Grab your mics!” 

You quickly got up, blinking back your tears as you approached a table, grabbing a mic. You settled your breathing as Lucy came up to you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with worry.

“Mhm! I’m fine! I think the heat is just getting to me!” You replied, your voice steady. You’re honestly surprised at how fast you pulled yourself together.

MUNA was on stage finishing up their second to last song for the night when Katie yelled into her microphone, “Thank you all for such a gorgeous night! We have one last song! Can you all welcome our guests to the stage please?” The crowd begins to go crazy. 

One by one the 4 of you run out on stage as the band starts playing “Silk Chiffon”. Your eyes scan over the crowd, everyone is having an amazing time, they all look tired, but in a euphoric concert driven tiredness. Until you spot one girl near the front of the barricade. She looks as if she's about to pass out, and the people around her don’t seem to notice. You brush it off, but decide to keep an eye on her just in case something happens.

As the band starts to play the music fills your body, heating your veins with electricity. You move the mic to your mouth as you sing background for Katie. This was always one of your favorite parts of the show, the harmony between all of your voices, the feeling of being alive and showing it through music. Phoebe rushes up to you and grabs your wrist, twirling you around and smiling wide at you. She leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek before your bodies find natural sync, dancing together. Everything always gets too chaotic when the 7 of you are all on stage. AS your eyes move from  Phoebes to the rest of the talent on stage you spot Julien glaring at you, your cheeks redden and you can’t distinguish whether it's from the heat or the shorter woman's dangerous stare.

Suddenly you remember that girl in the audience and when you look back to her place, you see her almost going limp, merely held up by the sweating bodies around her. Immediately your mind moves fast, remembering your highschool first aid lessons on heat stroke. Your brain quickly runs down her obvious symptoms and realizes it could be severe dehydration or worse, heat stroke. You quickly let go of Phoebe's arm and run backstage to grab a water bottle and someone to help you. 

Phoebe is confused, her eyes follow you backstage until she sees you grab a bottle of water. Too caught up in the moment she thinks you need a drink. She assumes nothing is wrong and then goes over to Jo to dance with her. The others don't realize your absence, too caught up in the song. Except Julien.

Julien was keeping a close eye on you when you were on stage, she saw every time you glanced at that specific spot in the barricade. Though she didn’t follow you, not until you suddenly appeared on the lawn in front of the stage with a medical professional and a security guard. 

You run to the dehydrated woman and then help her get to a cooler spot, and give her small sips of water to hydrate her. You couldn’t care less about the concert at that point, too concentrated on making sure this person was alright. 

Julien’s stomach started to churn, once again you were proving to her that you were perfect. There wasn’t anything Julien could flaw you on at this point. You stopped singing in the middle of a concert to go and take care of someone in need. How could she avoid her true feelings now? 

The song came to a close, and the bands lined up, wrapping their arms around each other's waists and bowing. Naomi, Jo and Katie blew kisses to the crowd and then they all walked offstage, a concert well performed. 

As Phoebe looked backstage she didn’t see you. She turned to the group and asked, “Did anyone see where (Y/N) went?” 

It came as a surprise to everyone when Julien answered, “They went to help someone in the audience, I saw them with medical.” 

Everyone nodded, Jo hoped the person was okay. Katie and Naomi went to ask someone about what had happened. It wasn’t soon after that you showed up.

Walking back to where you had just appeared from, Naomi and Katie both asked you “What happened?”

You told them that “Some girl in the barricade got really dehydrated and passed out, but she’s alright now!” 

A sigh of relief was heard from all 6 people, relieved that everyone was okay. Small chit chat was made until Jo spoke up “Okay I don’t know about you guys but it is hot as hell out here and I am going somewhere with air conditioning!”

“Finally someone said it!”

“Thank god I was starting to think I’d melt,”

Naomi, Katie, Lucy, and Phoebe dispersed after Jo, all talking about some record they’d listened to recently or where to get takeout from.

Julien stayed behind, and just as you were about to follow after the others she caught your arm. You turned towards her, “What’s up Jay?” The nickname leaves your lips in a second before you could think to not say it. 

Julien looked at you strangely and let go of your arm, not really realizing she had grabbed it in the first place. Another round of butterflies flew through her body as you looked at her questioningly.. “That was super cool what you did for that girl. Leaving mid song I mean.” 

You sighed, you were starting to get frustrated with her antics. Did she loathe you? Were you two friends? It seemed every other minute her feelings towards you changed. It was confusing the hell out of you. “Thanks.” You clipped, starting to walk away.

“That’s it?” Julien asked from behind you.

As you turned back around you noticed she stood as if trying to make her 5 foot frame seem taller, not that it was working. “What?”

“‘Thanks.’ That’s all you're gonna say? Normally you're much more chatty,” Julien laughed.

“I don’t know what you want from me Julien.” 

Julien pauses, looking at you with questions written all over her face.

“When I talk to you, you get snippy and you’re mean. When I don’t talk to you, you want me to talk more. I don’t get what your deal is with me?” You whisper-yelled, afraid someone from the crew would see your argument.

“I-” Julien stuttered, not being able to come up with anything to say.

Finally done with the back and forth banter that has been hurting your feelings ever since you met Julien you declared, “If you don’t want to be my friend just say it.”

Julien looked at you, eyes wide. You watched her as the gears turned in her head, trying to come up with what to say. You gave her a chance to explain herself, you set a mental timer of 30 seconds, if she didn’t say anything then you would go away. 

Those 30 seconds flew by without a peep from Julien, your eyes teared up as you spoke, “Fine, I’ll see you later I guess.” Turning around you went to your tour bus, wondering what you did to get Julien to dislike you so.

The only thing going through Julien’s mind was how she screwed up, bad.

[milli-moi]

So I made some thoughts into a thing. These are somewhat explicit things. So I’ll put them under the cut so people don’t have to read them if they don’t want to.

Anyway, I was writing something and I ended up thinking about my headcanons that I’ve developed for Agatha and Rio in the time I’ve written them. Specifically their sex lives. This is probably an even bigger thing because of the way these two are being written in fanfic.

I’m not saying it’s wrong or bad or anything like that but I feel like 80% at least of the fanfic written about their sexual relationship involves penetration with toys/magical changes. This alone is not indicative of the average wlw couple, and I get the sense that specific roles are also not as common as fanfic has us believe. I know people have said that this could well be because a lot of people don’t have experience with what they are writing (don’t get me wrong, I don’t think you need an experience to be able to write it- I’ve written many m/f scenes and I’ve got zero experience there)

Basically, what I’m getting to is that my headcanons for the couple don’t follow the same views as a lot of those ive seen and read. I

I headcanon Agatha as like 100% gay (well probably more like 97% but it’s the same idea) and honestly it means a huge amount to me personally to have a gay female character who is somewhat feminine (again I know a lot of people love the idea of a very butch Agatha but the costume designer actually said he dressed her as in the middle, with both masc and fem elements) and who wanted to be a mum and who was (based on the outcomes not the way they were achieved) a good mum. I like the fact I can imagine if Nicky hadn’t died that her and Rio could have been ultra happy with a little brood of demon-spawn. It’s not often we see gay women in media who have any form of soft and maternal, or that are gay to the point male body parts put them off.

So, although this list is about Rio, it’s probably important you know where I am coming at this from before I break it down. I will likely do a matching list for Agatha and hopefully be able to link it here once I have done.

Really happy to have conversations with people about this list, and if it inspires you in any way I’d love you to use it (and would love to be tagged, not for credit but so I can see what you’ve created lol)

Anyway, the list:

- Rio had experience of lust before Agatha. She possibly had even had sex before Agatha but she hadn’t experienced attraction or arousal in the way that they related to one person.

- She was incredibly fascinated by how pleasure worked, how it could feel for other people. To the point she once made Agatha touch herself so she could sit at eye level and study what she did and how her body responded to it.

- She has an oral fixation. We all know that. BUT it has its uses, it means that Rio wanted to try putting anything in/on her mouth that she could. They only discovered oral sex was a thing because of this desire (1700s, you had to work it out on your own more or less and it’s not the first place I would think to put my mouth tbh..)

- That same fixation threw her off guard when Agatha began to lactate. She didn’t like how much she wanted to taste her wife’s milk but was surprised to be encouraged by Agatha.

- She went through a ‘teenage stage’ in which she struggled to keep her hands to herself after she first experienced sex with Agatha. Agatha found it somewhat cute but would never admit that.

- She is able to alter her appearance and has often wondered what it would be like to create a penis for herself and feel the difference but Agatha finds the whole idea off-putting. She’s not into penis-shaped things at all.

- Rio loves the taste of Agatha (something often talked about in the adult rated world but something that not many people feel in reality) she has a different palate than humans, enjoying the taste of almost all natural things regardless of whether they are meant to be ingested. The first time she went down on Agatha she had to be pushed away, reluctant to stop when it became too much.

- Rio has not had sex with anyone since Agatha. The last time being around 1790, a hate- filled moment of weakness before Agatha gained the darkhold. As a result of this she had some darkish thoughts about seducing Agnes in the hex just to get the chance to be with her again. She didn’t, it would have been wrong and felt worse afterwards.

- She bites. She had to learn how hard was too hard, almost biting off one of Agatha’s nipples the first time they slept together. Agatha has a scar on the inside of her thigh and one on her left shoulder from the times when Rio was still learning.

- Rio has a love-hate relationship with modern clothing. She loves how it is now acceptable to not only show cleavage blatantly but also to wear trousers that line the shape of the hips and thighs. She likes that jeans mean she can have a good look at Agatha’s ass and it not be obvious or inappropriate. She wishes they would go back to real corsets, the fashion she never really got to see Agatha in, and she knows the effects they had on cleavage. She knows she missed out. Underwear is something she hates, almost as much as she misses long skirts. The two go hand in hand, the lack of underwear and the long skirt being what made it possible for her to take Agatha against a tree or two in the old forests without giving too much to anyone that might happen to see them.

- She wishes she had more time to explore a truly invincible Agatha. She wonders if the corruption of the darkhold would also have enhanced Agatha’s own carnal needs. She wonders how hard she could have pushed her.