#i fit as many of them onto the screen as i could

[simstationdance]

sorry to break it to you guys, but if you live in strangetown, you are absolutely not normal

[chahnniesroom]

for richer, for poorer

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: gift giving has always been something you've agonised over. for chan, just having you in his life is enough.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: insecurities (especially related to finances), feeling anxious, hurt/comfort

a/n: i know it’s still a long time until october, but i didn't write it in time to fit as like a holiday related fic.

bonus: minho's reaction to his gift (included as a reblog of this post)

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Gift giving has always been something that you agonised over. You wanted so desperately to get something meaningful and special that nothing you ended up getting seemed special enough.

So when Felix had proposed throwing both Chan and Minho a party for their birthdays, you were more than happy to help plan. You could see that Chan had hesitated when Felix had told them about it, but he had ultimately agreed when he saw the way Minho had seemed to perk up at the idea.

It wouldn’t be anything too big, Felix promised, just inviting some close friends to have dinner and hang out. It slowly balloons into more than a simple dinner, but the opportunities for the members to have their friends gather are so rare that you swallow your concerns.

The night of, you can’t help feeling a bit nervous. You recognise almost everyone, but that's the part that scares you - you've only seen most of these people through your phone screen before. You know Chan and Minho have a lot of idol friends, but you didn't realise there would be so many at the party. You had discussed the guest list with Felix briefly, but your concern had been about the number of guests and not who they actually were. Now you’re starting to regret it, you aren’t mentally prepared to be face to face with so many celebrities.

The time passes surprisingly quickly with people trickling in as the night goes on. Dinner is casual, you’ve helped to cook a number of dishes and takeout was ordered to fill the rest of the counter. There isn’t enough proper seating so everyone is spread throughout the kitchen and living room.

You spend most of the time just wandering through and making sure that there’s no shortage of drinks, appetizers, and that the empty dishes or cups are cleared away. Of course, you greet everybody as they arrive and thank them for coming, but it’s hard not to be intimidated by all the famous faces.

Eventually Changbin drags the birthday boys to the living room, standing them in front of the TV to open gifts. Everyone else either crams themselves onto the couches, sits on the floor, or loiters closer to the doors.

Chan insists that he open presents at the same time as Minho instead of one at a time like Jisung suggests. Someone pushes a couple of matching boxes into their hands and steps away.

It's almost comical how different they open them. Chan takes his time, carefully pulling apart the ribbon that's wrapped around the box, sliding the lid off and putting it to the side, then slowly peeling aside the tissue paper. Minho on the other hand, manages to pull the ribbon off the box without untying it and flips the box to shake off the lid and reveal the contents.

They're complementary hoodies in the casual and oversized fit that the boys usually go for. You recognize the brand, have seen the members wear it on more than one occasion, and know that they most likely cost the same as your monthly salary.

The next gifts seem fairly innocuous, a beanie for Chan and a baseball cap for Minho, but you know their pieces often go for over a million won, more than you’ve ever spent on a single clothing item.

It continues on like this, the boys receiving items like music equipment, alcohol, and sunglasses. It makes you swallow hard when you think of your own, mostly handmade gift.

Maybe the worst part is that nobody else at the party even blinks an eye at it. You can’t blame them, it’s the nature of their occupation that has gotten them desensitised to being surrounded by luxury and it’s not like they can’t afford to indulge in getting more expensive things.

When you look down, wanting to stop staring at the pile of opened gifts, you see that you've partially crushed the packaging of your own gift. It already looked shabby enough, it was obvious you had wrapped it yourself and the paper you used was from the supermarket, but now it was even worse.

When you try to smooth out the crinkles, your shaky fingers somehow make it ruin it more. You bite your lip, hard, then stop, self conscious about your appearance around all these idols.

It suddenly feels cramped and too warm, sweat starting to gather on your forehead and back. The room starts to spin slightly and you become overly aware of your heart beating in your chest.

A burst of laughter from the crowd spooks you, pulling you out of your head. You use the opportunity to get to your feet and excuse yourself. You slip away as quietly as you can and breathe a sigh of relief when you make it into Chan's room without anyone following you.

You don’t bother to turn on the lights, not wanting anyone to check up on you, and sit on the ground with your back against Chan’s bed. With the door closed, the noise from the party is muffled and it’s significantly colder in this area of the dorm. You press your hands to your face and take a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate.

You don’t know what’s wrong with you because you know you shouldn’t feel like his. You had been looking forward to watching Chan and Minho open their gifts, you had spent a lot of time preparing them and you had felt confident that they would enjoy them.

Well, until you saw everything else that they received.

Now your ideas just seemed silly. You feel humiliated at the thought of everybody seeing the obviously cheap gifts and even worse when you consider how ashamed Chan might be for others to know that you were his partner.

Although you were working full-time at the moment, you had only graduated from university last year and your student debt was an ever present weight on your shoulders that you tried your best to hide. Everything you had went to paying it back and checking in bi-weekly to see the number get smaller and smaller was the only thing that made you feel better.

Chan knew that you often worried about money. You had been mortified the first time that he had walked in on you trying to organise your finances for the next few months. He had glanced over your shoulder before you had even realised he was in the room and all the red cells showing where you were in a deficit were hard to miss.

It had been early on in your relationship and the dates that the two of you had been on as well as a couple unforeseen events had meant that you had been spending way more than what you had anticipated. Of course, Chan had treated you on a number of occasions, but you refused sometimes because you felt guilty every time he offered to pay, especially since it had been only a couple years after his debut.

He had been more than understanding, but you had been so embarrassed and caught off guard that you couldn't stop the tears from streaking down your face. Since then, Chan and the members had never done anything to make you feel like they pitied you or thought any less of you for your financial situation, in fact they did the opposite.

When you had first started visiting the dorms, opening the food delivery apps was like a reflex for all of the boys once it was dinnertime. You were always hesitant to choose anything and felt even worse by the nonchalant way that they covered the costs each time. Even though you knew they didn’t think anything of it, you couldn’t help but feel like you were taking advantage of their hospitality.

Somehow they caught on to your reluctance to buy food and now it's tradition that you cook for them when you come over, enough so that they keep the kitchen stocked with more than ramen, chicken breasts, and protein powder.

In particular, Minho absolutely loved your cooking and had needled you many times on sharing how you made it. You had always denied him though, saying that you didn't use exact measurements and came up with things on the fly. That’s why for his gift, you had taken the time to create a recipe book, complete with pictures for each step and modifications that he could make based on the ingredients he had.

You had spent a few months thinking about what to give Chan. He was harder to shop for since you knew he wasn't overly fond of celebrating his birthday and didn’t want you to spend money on him, but was always touched when you got him something. Usually, you tried to do something he was more likely to accept.

Last year, you had organised with the company to give Chan a day off and had taken him out to a movie. It was a pretty standard date, but the two of you rarely had the opportunity to go out together and you knew Chan had resigned himself to watching the movie when it was released online instead of going to the theatres like he had hoped to. Having to spend a few days trying to sort out all the logistics of secretly rearranging Chan’s schedule had been more than worth it with the way that his face had lit up when you had told him about what you had planned.

You don't know how long you sit alone, but every time that you tell yourself to get up and rejoin the party, it feels impossible to move.

“Hey,” Chan's voice is cautious, but you startle anyway, scrambling to stand up. Stuck in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just needed some air, it was getting kind of stuffy in there,” you explain. “I didn't think you'd notice.”

“Of course I noticed. You were there one second and gone the next, I didn't know what happened.”

“It’s nothing.” You avoid Chan’s gaze, not wanting to see the concern that shines in his eyes.

Chan steps closer, then reaches out and tangles your fingers together, using your connection to pull the two of you to sit on the bed.

“Y/n, baby,” he says softly. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in here.” He leans forward until the side of his head bumps into yours.

“It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s not important,” he warns. “It’s important to you and that makes it important to me, okay?”

“Uhm,” you pause for a moment, unsure of how you want to word your thoughts. You trust Chan, but it still feels scary being vulnerable. “I guess, I was just feeling… Insecure.”

“Insecure?” Chan tilts his head slightly. “About what?”

“Everyone-” you laugh slightly, embarrassed. “Everyone gave you guys such nice gifts, I feel like mine don’t even compare.”

“Y/n, you know I don’t care about that kind of thing. If I had the choice, nobody would be giving me gifts at all. Just having you in my life is enough.” Chan’s voice is painfully sincere.

“I know you don't mind. It just- It feels bad that I can't give you something nice like they can. It's dumb, I know, but I can't help it.”

“I can open it here, away from everyone else if you want,” Chan offers. “Or you don't even have to give it to me today, you can save it until you feel better. Or don't give it to me at all, it's all okay.”

“No no, I want you to have it,” you say immediately. Before you can think better of it, you reach down and retrieve the gift from where you left it on the floor.

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Chan reassures you.

“This is fine,” you decide. “Just the two of us."

“Okay.”

“It’s not designer,” you say suddenly, fiddling with the ribbon that keeps the two packages together. Both of you ignore the fact that you’re just stalling at this point.

“I don’t need any more clothes, I barely wear everything I own now,” Chan jokes.

“Really, you might not like it,” you warn.

“Baby, when have I ever disliked anything that you’ve gotten for me?” Chan drops the teasing tone. You think for a moment.

“When you asked me to order noodles for you and I accidentally got you the spicy version and it made you cry?”

“Did I say that I didn’t like them?”

“No, you ate it all even though I warned you that it would make your stomach hurt for the next couple of days,” you say, smiling faintly at the memory.

You had gotten yourself the same dish and had found it to be bearable, while Chan’s face had turned bright red after the first bite. You had offered a few times to get him a non-spicy version so that he could enjoy himself, but he had been determined to finish, soaking his shirt and beanie with how much he had sweated. He hadn’t even been able to continue carrying a conversation with you, too busy trying to suck in air to cool his mouth.

It had been even funnier for you the next day, receiving multiple texts from Chan about his stomach hurting and having to continually pause dance practice to go to the bathroom.

“The pain was worth it,” Chan insists. “I'm actually convinced that I'll like anything you give me. Now come on, let me open my gifts!”

You hand over the gift and watch as he pulls away the ribbon to separate the boxes and peels away the tape on the first package. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries not to rip the wrapping paper.

This gift was more neutral, a set that contained a wallet and cardholder, both in black. Although Chan hadn’t complained at all, the wallet he had been using was from years ago and the synthetic material was starting to crack and flake away at the edges.

He looks delighted, examining it briefly before pulling out his old wallet and transferring all his cards and cash into this new one. Although it’s not a name brand, you had purchased it at a small shop specialising in handcrafted genuine leather goods at a surprisingly affordable price. It was good quality and suited the simplicity that Chan preferred.

“It's just what I needed,” he says, sounding pleased. “You pay so much attention.”

“I'm glad you like it,” you say, feeling relieved even though you had been pretty sure that he would be happy with it.

The unease comes back when he turns his attention to the second gift. Once again, he puts in effort to gently unwrap it, revealing an old chocolate box that you had repurposed from one of your dates.

You’ve always been on the more sentimental side and had saved it, wanting to remember the evening that Chan had taken you out and the two of you had spent 20 minutes in the shop, meticulously picking out the flavours that you wanted to try. The box is made of a surprisingly durable material and is the perfect size for this gift. You’ve painted over it too, concealing the original design.

Chan turns it around in his hands curiously, before sliding the lid up. You turn away to stare at your hands, overwhelmed by nervousness.

You already know what’s inside. It’s a deck of cards that you’ve transformed, with 52 things I love about you inscribed on one of the jokers. On the flip side, you’ve painted a picture of you and Chan smiling widely with your cheeks pressed together. It’s his favourite, one he always tells you would be permanently on his lock screen if he wasn’t an idol.

The rest of the cards are decorated similarly, a small drawing or painting on one side with the things, people, and places that Chan loves on one side, and something that you love about Chan on the other. The last joker is the only one that's different, you've treated it as a card and have a small message written on.

You had been so excited when you had thought of the idea, even though it was almost embarrassingly cheesy. Chan was often hard on himself, overly critical, and sometimes insecure. You tried your best to reassure him that he was doing well, both in his career and personal life, but you weren’t always able to be with him to do it in person.

As time goes by, your dread just continues to build, but you don't dare look up, not wanting to see Chan's reaction. Based on the silence, he’s clearly not thrilled with the silly idea that you had gone with. You can almost imagine his expression, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as he tries to think of what he can say to let you down easy.

Finally, you can't take it any longer and you lean forward, reaching out to grab at the cards that he's still reading though.

“I'm sorry, it's stupid, I know,” you say quickly. “You can tell me that you hate it, it's okay. I don't know what I was thinking, but just- give me more time, I'll get you something else, something nicer-”

It catches Chan off guard, and instead of successfully taking the cards away, you grapple with them for a second before they slip between both of your hands, scattering across the floor like confetti.

You instantly drop to your knees, scrabbling to scoop them up like the most awful game of 52 pick up that you've ever played in your life. To your horror, the task gets even more difficult as tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Y/n-” Chan says gently, reaching out and taking your wrists in his hands to stop your frantic movements. “Come here.”

You resist for a moment, but he pulls you into his arms, cradling your head so your face is resting on his shoulder. The tears leaking from your eyes soak into the fabric and you sniffle softly.

“I'm sorry,” you say, voice partially muffled. “I'm a mess.”

In response, Chan pulls back slightly and when you don't turn towards him, he taps a finger against your cheek until you face him. Your eyes widen when you notice that he also has tear tracks streaking down his face.

“What-”

“It's okay, I'm a mess too. I should have said it sooner,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Still in his embrace, you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. “I love it. I was overwhelmed, I wanted to say something but you left me speechless.”

“Don't just say it-”

“I've never had a gift so thoughtful, Y/n,” Chan says earnestly. “How could you think this was stupid? You must have spent hours and hours on it and I really appreciate it. It’s just- is this really what you think of me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Do you really love that-” Chan picks up the closest card to him and flips it so that he can read the message. “That I snore? Y/n, why do you even have this in the list?”

“Yes, snoring was one thing and it's because with everything, there’s always a reason to love it. It's not that I love that you snore, but with your insomnia, hearing you snore is a relief because it means you're sleeping, that you're resting. Even with your insomnia, I know you're busy thinking of every little way you can make things just right for you and the members. It's because you care so much, how could I not love these parts of you?”

“You- you really love all these little things?”

“Of course I do,” you say in a hushed voice. “Of course. When I was making these, I couldn't fit it all. I love everything about you, Chan.”

This time, it's Chan that breaks eye contact, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you.”

“It's not about deserving. You didn't have to do anything, that's the whole point. I love you just as you are.”

“You know that's how I feel about you, right?”

“Chan-”

“Even if you never got me anything ever again, I wouldn't love you any less. You being in my life, by my side, that's the greatest gift you could ever give.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[muwapsturniolo]

✯FreshLove for the Fit✯

pt1

Summary: Y/N decides to DM Chris after receiving threats and things start to escalate between the two.

Warnings: NSFW content, swearing, mentions of jerking off, titties are mentioned, dildos, masturbation.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Y/N was dying of laughter.

Two days ago, one of her favorite content creators decided to go on a spam spree and like all of her posts. She was confused, to say the least, then she became flattered.

Now here she is, full-on cackling as she reads the hate comments she's receiving.

12-year-old girls' calling her all types of names and sending death threats, all because Chris Sturniolo was most likely jerking off to her?

It's hilarious.

She starts laughing even harder when she realizes Chris unfollowed her and unliked all of her posts.

She decides to mess with him a little bit and sends a DM on Instagram

Y/I/N

yo, your fans are cray asf. you need to tell them to leave me tf alone.

Chris's heart dropped when he saw the notification. Y/N was DM'ing him? He hesitantly clicks on the notification and his mouth runs dry when he sees what she said.

He felt like shit.

He isn't dumb, he saw what some of the fans were saying to her online. He thought it was crazy they were sending death threats to her because he was horny and dumb. He decides to respond back.

Christophersturniolo

i feel like shit for the stuff they are saying to and about you. it's not fair at all and I'm sorry.

Y/I/N

LMAO, im playing with you. ion care about these little ass girls. they mad at me because you were horny and jerked your shit to me. shit is funny.

Chris can't help but sigh, and laugh in relief. He really didn't want Y/N to be mad at him.

Christophersturniolo

fuck you had me scared. I'm glad you're handling this well though.

Y/I/N

lmao, i can handle myself very well thank you

Chris finds himself being bold behind a screen.

Christophersturniolo

i like the way you handle yourself.

Y/N smiles and turns onto her stomach, kicking her feet as if she's a schoolgirl texting her crush.

Y/I/N

so i take it you like my content?

She knows he likes it, but she wants to see him admit it. Y/N was a bit cocky, she knows she's pretty as fuck, has a nice body, and that her content is one of the best.

She just likes hearing people say it.

Christophersturniolo

love it actually

Y/I/N

tell me what you love about it.

Christophersturniolo

i love that you wear my brand as your getting off. the way you tweak your nipples through the shirts as you shove the dildo into yourself, chasing an orgasm. i love the way your moans are soft yet so loud at the same time. Don't get me started on your thighs, id love to be in between them all day.

Both of them are staring at their phones, bodies shaking as they take deep breaths. this conversation took a turn none of them were expecting.

Chris can't believe he's talking to a CamGirl who could actually expose this whole conversation.

Y/N can't believe she's even talking to Chris. Hell, she barely has wrapped her head around the fact he enjoys her content.

Christophersturniolo

what would you say if i wanted you to call me

Y/I/N

i would tell you to check my stories tab for prices.

Not even five minutes later, Y/N gets a cash app notification for $200 with the message

"FT me and wear FreshLove."

There's a phone number attached and Y/N is shocked. Her FT prices are only $130 but he sent $200.

She copies the number before pasting it into the Facetime log and pressing the call button.

It rings three times before Chris picks up.

"They look good," both of them think to themselves.

Chris is wearing a pink hoodie that makes Y/N go feral on the inside. Pink is one of her many favorite colors and to see him looking so good laid out in it, she's clenching her legs. It doesn't help that his camera angle is low. She wonders if that's what he would like while his dick is in her throat.

Y/N is in fact wearing FreshLove just like Chris asked (it was more so a demand but that's not the point), and he's trying to contain himself. It was obvious the pink shirt may be a size too small considering it was hugging her chest tightly, allowing her pierced nipples to peak through. His mind is running wild as he imagines fucking her while she's decked out in his brand.

"Hi,"

Chris is shocked when he hears the tone of her voice. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't expect something so soft and dainty. No wonder her moans sound the way they do.

"Hey..." Chris responds.

"What did you want to call for?" for some reason, Chris is too shy to admit the real reason he wanted to call. How do you tell a girl you only wanted to Facetime, in hopes she fucks herself on her pink dildo so he can jerk off.

"I don't know."

Y/N tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, "I think you know you're just too scared to say it." Her words are taunting,

Chris doesn't like it.

"Not scared to admit anything. I just figured you wouldn't like me telling you to go ahead and grab that pink dildo and fuck yourself for me. I was raised to be a gentleman after all." Chris smirks seeing Y/N get shy. Although her skin is brown, he can tell there's a faint reddish tint to them.

He keeps going, "Don't act all shy, like you don't post yourself online doing the same thing. After all that is how I found you."

Y/N likes being degraded. It's one of the many kinks she has.

"But I won't have you do that, I want to get to know you first."

Y/N is shocked. usually, when she does these calls, the guys automatically demand that she strip and start playing with herself. Although this whole interaction will be transactional, it's a breath of fresh air for her.

The call continues, both of them laughing and talking for more than an hour. The conversations jump from topic to topic. One minute they are talking about music (Y/N was shocked when Chris hadn't heard of Jorja Smith), favorite foods, and movies.

Suddenly Y/N asks a question that's been on her mind, " Why did you send $200 when the price was $130?"

"Because I wanted to" he answers so quick and nonchalantly, it surprises Y/N.

"But you didn't have to, especially if we didn't do anything sexual." When Y/N looks back at her phone, she sees a smirk made its way across Chris's face.

"I have a proposition for you."

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

i actually hate this so much but i did want to put out a second chapter 😭 let me know if yall like it or what you want to happen. im very open to suggestions!!!

[afewfantasies]

🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - III - Charms

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Danger is imminent, as is Feyd-Rautha's birthday celebration in the arena. Passion and fear abound as parties try to nagivate through new realities. Your desire for Feyd-Rautha is growing, along with the trust between you. Secrets are revealed and sexual appetites explored.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of a sex dungeon, masturbation, aftercare, choking, inexperienced reader, heavy petting.

Part I 🖤 Part II 🖤 Masterlist

ᴘᴀʀᴛ - ɪɪɪ - ᴄʜᴀʀᴍꜱ

Trembling with anger Feyd-Rautha watches as the water runs crimson at the bottom of the cleansing chamber. The self cleaning mechanisms are turned to full capacity in attempt to free him of the sticky blood and debris of the nights terrors. A thousand cuts could never be enough. Your tears were more than that to Feyd. He’d broken his promise to protect you always. He had to send a message, cruelty had never truly come easy to him. After his father’s passing he learned quickly that brutality was the best means of survival. The worse his behaviour the more celebrated he became, soon the fear and respect in peoples eyes became his preferred drug. Pushing out the sadness and replacing it with a simmering rage did wonders for him. It opened the world to him. He’d earned the fear his name illicited. It had been a decade since he felt fear like the fear that nearly paralyzed him last night. The words in his headset had to be repeated several times. He found his chest heaving violently, there was not enough air in his lungs. He’d killed three men while still in the ship from lashing out, he couldn’t get to you fast enough. It was all taking too long. The journey back needed to happen at light speed. His chest felt tight as his head spun. How could he lose you so soon? How could anyone be so bold? So disrespectful, so careless with their life? The thought of losing you before he could ever truly be a husband to you tortured him more than he could bear. He’d found no relief in the fear of your eyes , how you clung to him, your trembling, your racing heart. Typically he revelled in it, but not then not with you. It was harrowing. He’d only found reprieve in the slowing of your heart rate, the slow relaxation of your muscles, the way you melted into him for safety. Then, he was able to take in your scent and how perfectly you fit in his arms. The softness of your flesh, the trust in your eyes, the feel of your lips on his. He hadn’t expected a kiss, nor did he feel he deserved one after failing you.

  Drying himself off Feyd dresses before heading to his armoury, too angry to rest before meeting the Baron. Hesitating he stops in front of your door as he had every day the past week. He’d decided against trying to enter then, but now things have changed. He needs to lay eyes on you before starting his day, physically - a screen won’t suffice. Sliding his hand into the reader it opens. He finds you brushing your hair into place. Your usual apprehension replaced with a surprised smile at the sight of him. He watches you as you put down the brush and walk into him. It takes him a moment to return the warm gesture taking in your scent and the feel of your body against his. Relief at your well being and resilience washes over him. It feels like it’s been minutes when you pull away and Feyd can’t remember the last time he engaged in something as pure and intimate as a long hug.

“Have you slept?” You ask looking into his weary eyes.

“I have to meet the Baron” Feyd responds feeling the need for you more. He stands behind you breathing you in and his hands hovers over the covered bruises on your skin.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, I was able to brew a tea” you explain and he takes your hands looking at your bruised knuckles once again. It he could revive the men who’d harmed you to give them another million cuts he would. Bringing your hands to his lips he places kisses onto them hoping last night is the first of many kisses.

“I can postpone my fight if you need me to” Feyd says considerate of your mood and mental state. There’d been no time to watch you sleep last night while he had been administering your retribution but he had quickly scanned through the footage from your bedroom finding you tossing and turning all night. He’d never missed a night, not even while with his pets, his pleasure slaves had only been a slight distraction from his need for you.

“No, you must uphold your traditions” you advise.

“New traditions can be made” Feyd interjects.

“na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen has a reputation to protect. The people want to see you in the arena” you remind him.

“The people are not my concern” Feyd says looking into your eyes. His affection for you is clearer now. His level of attention, his concentration, his agony. Feyd is incapable of false moments. Pure passion personified, that’s the danger of him. His strength and weakness.

“Then they must be mine, Feyd there mustn’t be any perceived changes. As heir the peoples adoration of you is important.” You explain.

“Not more than yours” he confesses. He thought he lost you.

“Feyd, please” you whisper holding his hands. Your eyes look up at his and it’s only seconds before you see him cave. “Go to the Baron, prepare for your fight and I will be here with the guards or in the infirmary with Leia” you tell him just as a buzz sounds at the door. His hands go to his knives as he steps in front of you. After a moment he moves aside and you see Leia. She’s in a wheelchair.

“I can wait outside” she says holding up her hand. Feyd watches the girl with appreciation. Had Leia been killed or brutalized more seriously it would have completely ruined his chances with you.

“Leia please come in, we can have breakfast” you smile. For the first time Leia looks to Feyd-Rautha without averting her eyes, she points a respectfully slow nod in his direction in spite of her injuries. He returns the gesture watching as you make a space for your friend at your table. Content with the state of affairs he gives you a final look before heading out.

“na-Baron!” You call out stopping him in his tracks. He raises a brow and you motion for him to follow you into your private chambers. Tracking your steps he enters the room he already knows intimately from hours or surveillance. “You must try to withhold any affinity you have for me or it will be exploited. You have no other weaknesses and I would prefer to be a strength” you whisper. “Honesty” you whisper as his eyes search yours in confusion. He hadn’t known many women outside of handmaidens and pleasure slaves but what he had heard and learned in his years was that women were proud, they enjoyed affectionate displays and declarations, they were in constant competition with others to show and prove their mate to be the best.

“Would you prefer I stayed away as well?” He asks feeling slighted.

“No” you respond in earnest.

“May I return for dinner after training?” He asks.

“Yes” you respond and he recognizes a blush on your cheeks. He gets a head-rush and smiles pleased with your reception to him. If it was up to him the Baron could wait. The scent of your room is intoxicating. Almost as much as the sight out you without fear for him. Pressing his lips to your forehead he breathes you in, restraining his urges for more. He’d never known fear once his parents had passed only rage. The agony of his father’s loss was a suffering he didn’t want to bear again. He would heed your warning. Stepping back he sets the tone, the chemistry between you two is kinetic. He takes your hand placing a soft kiss over your bruises.

Letting go he leaves through the main room casting Leia an acknowledging glance. The main doors whoosh open and you hear him barking orders before they close. Turning to Leia you place a hand on her shoulder before sitting. She sees the change in you, the fall of your shoulders, the ease of your steps. She’d been worried since the abduction remembering vividly how long it took you to be somewhat alright after fleeing your home world. She had been there for the night terrors and the panic attacks, she had been there through your darkest days. In spite of your sometimes tenacious personality she had never seen you fight. You had taken hits on several occasions. It was against the Bene Gesserit way, each sister was to have a strong predisposition to survival for the breeding program - however with you it was never the case. The other sisters stopped picking on you when you were slow to react and a few of the others intervened. Leia knew more than most it didn’t bother you as they thought it did. But she saw you fight. Saw you fight with precision and intention as you reigned your head back to break the bastards nose. You’d waited for her instead of peeling off for the safety of self-preservation. You’d done that for her, for the both of you. Now you were sitting before her with an ease to you she hadn’t seen in years. Smiling she withholds her need to comment.

“What?” You ask looking up at her.

“Careful with that one or we both may be in these chairs” Leia winks and you shake your head at her vulgarity. “You can feel his affection for you from far away, he’s managing his desire quite well. Keep kissing him like you did last night and that restraint may snap” she warns. Sitting in front of her you feed her breakfast so she can nurse her injuries a little while longer.

“He’s in danger” you remind telepathically.

“It’ll be alright” she responds in the same way. Looking into Leia’s eyes gives you hope calming the nerves that have been on edge since the attack. She takes the fork from your hand holding it inspire of her injuries. You squeeze tight thankful she’s at your side. Leia had finished more of the sisterhoods training then you, she had been a successful component of the breeding program, she had been permitted into rooms and special councils. She was being prepared for espionage.  It was during her training when she had used her telepathic power of persuasion that you picked it up. It had worked on the entire room with the exception of you.

Your silence speaks volumes.

The sisterhood was supposed to protect you from the brutality your fathers fall caused not inflict more torture. Had Feyd-Rautha’s intention been to brutalize you, had he been everything everyone said he was you would have suffered thrice. Once with the fleeing of your home world, then for the weeks with Feyd-Rautha and finally at the hands of ‘The Beasts’ men. It was the kind of cruelty reserved for enemies and not allies.

“I’m finished with them” you speak plainly. Leia swallows seeing the seriousness in your eyes. She gives a slow nod feeling less victimized by the politics of it. She believed in the objective of achieving greater goods. As things stood now Feyd marrying the Princess would be ideal.

“As am I” she nods in solidarity.

________

Looking at your reflection in the shiny black stone table its hard to recognize yourself. Life with the Bene Gesserit, is a life of subtlety and intrigue, veils, headdresses and masks, there’s no room for displays of beauty, style or power outside of specific confines. All behaviour would be governed by the objectives of the order - only now you would be done with that. The curl of your lashes is striking, as well as the black lines on your lids. It’s not the Harkonnen way, but your mothers. Leia had been an advisor of sort as you tried your best to fashion an undo from memory to match the one your mother wore on special occasions. You had called in the seamstresses to adjust the fit on one of the robes provided in your closer. A floor length crimson piece with a hood. Cutting bout the high neckline and taking in the sides to fit your figure is a bold choice but it’s Feyd-Rautha’s birthday tomorrow and you intend to try to make it special for him. The replica sword of the one in your home world lays across the table sheathed in an intricate scabbard Leia helped you create over the last week. There would be little time to present it to him tomorrow, so tonight would have to do.

Looking at the clock you see its far past the time dinner is usually served. You hear movement and sit upright in anticipation. It fades and you slouch at the sight of the Mentat. His expression is regretful.

“na-Baroness, please eat something - I do believe something has kept the na-Baron” he says. Nodding you stand slightly ashamed by Feyd’s rejection - another broken promise.

“I will eat in my quarters” you force a smile. He speaks into his earpiece taking the blade in his hands.

“The na-baron will love it” he says to be encouraging. Nodding you smile sure he will appreciate the craftsman ship that went into creating an accurate depiction of one of the galaxy’s most recognizable blades.

“Do you know if he is with his Harpies?” You ask.

“He isn’t” the Mentat responds without hesitation.

“The Baron?” You ask and he swallows regretfully.

“Among others, but you should not worry” the Mentat assures. Swallowing hard you pause for a moment before turning to Feyd-Rautha’s personal quarters. You cross the dining room and head to the unfamiliar black doors.

“Don’t!” The Mentat snaps as you stick your hand in the reader. To his surprise the doors open without alerting the safety measures reserved for intruders.

“I’ll only be a moment” you turn to him stepping into the dark room. The doors close behind you, lights illuminating slowly with each of your steps until the place is fully lit. The interior takes your breath away when you view all the knives, blades and swords hanging on the walls. A number of large portraits of Feyd-Rautha hang all around the large open space. Stepping back you look for his bedroom and stop an open door. Your steps take you there a large statement bed rests in the centre. It’s high with two marble steps to get up surrounding three quarters of it. Chains hang from the ceiling, with straps of all sorts attached to them. There’s what looks like a cage too, and a large X in the corner near it. Swallowing you try to make sense of it until a screen catches your eye. Stepping in you see a screen showing what looks to be your room, you see your bathroom and bedroom. Before you can confirm a red light flashes into your retinas, before you can blink the screen goes black. Stepping backwards with a shudder you place the blade onto the table with the attached note and exit. 

The Mentat watches you closely shocked by your ability to enter the na-Baron’s quarters. Feyd-Rautha’s security had been noticeably ironclad. He’d seen many try to break in or sneak in with no success and somehow you entered so effortlessly. Your heart races as you try to make sense of what you seen, all of it. 

“Can you have Leia, brought to my quarters?” You ask the Mentat. He speaks into his earpiece to have it done immediately.

Dinner is served and Leia consoles you listing dozens of reasons for Feyd’s absence you tell her about his bedroom, the chains, the empty cage the large X, but you omit the screen not completely sure what to make if it. Leia’s eyes light up her penchant for mischief proving useful as she explains in excruciating detail all of the possibilities. Just as your fear had begun to retreat Feyd’s tastes gave you more reasons. He was into administering pain, and having total control. He’d asked for your absolute submission but you had never considered it would lead to being suspended in the air for his pleasure, tied to wooden blocks, spanked, collared, degraded and hurt. 

After dinner you head into your bedroom casting a quick glance into the area the vantage point of a camera would be. You see a sconce in its place, a black ornamental sconce, there’s one in every corner of the room. Swallowing your about to to begin undressing when you hear the door open. Tensing you stay put afraid of another attack, stepping out of room you peer around to the living area and see Feyd. You sigh relieved.

“Apologies, the Baron kept me” he says before stopping in his tracks. His eyes drink you in, it’s like he’s been placed under a trance. You look him over a little confused until you remember he’s never seen you like this before. All done up for him. Feeling a little nervous under his intense gaze you nod.

“I had dinner already, I’m sorry I waited” you whisper as his mouth closes, his Adams apple bobs as he nods his bald head.

“You waited?” He asks his voice grittier and lower than ever before.

“For hours” you respond a little unnerved by the darkness of his eyes.

“I ought to drown the Baron in his tub” he snaps just over a whisper to himself radiating frustration. He couldn’t dream up a more beautiful woman, and you’d put in effort for him after he’d asked you to dinner. 

“I wanted to give you a gift before tomorrow’s celebrations” you confess.

Feyd blinks nodding, grappling with the gravity of your words. Days ago you were running from him. Now you were within reach and other peoples actions were jeopardizing his happiness.

“It’s in your room, I left it on the table I hope it’s no problem” you tell him but he hasn’t moved. His stillness is unnerving, like a snake before it strikes. His muscles contract before his hands unclench.

“You were in my rooms?” Feyd asks with suspicion.

“I hope that’s alright, I placed your gift on the table and left” you explains but he’s suspicious.

“Follow me” he says holding out his hand. You take it heading to the other side of tour living quarters. “Only you can open this door” he says putting your hand in the reader. The doors open and you’re in his quarters. You step into it extremely surprised. Your thoughts head back to the strange contraptions in his room as Feyd moves quickly having the screens put away before heading to the table. His hands hover over the box and he looks at you taking the scroll.

“Dearest na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,

It is custom to give handmade gifts on birthdays. Please do not take offence, this took me ten days to craft with help from Leia and the Mentat. It’s the only thing I could think of that you may enjoy. 

Wishing you the happiest of birthdays and many more!

Y/N”

He pauses smiling at the strange kindness of the scroll, remembering several before. He’d often thought your gifts were juvenile and silly but he’d kept them anyhow. Bracing himself to put on a show of support he opens the box. His eyes deceive him. Narrowing his eyes he takes the blade from the box. He runs his hands over its sheath having seen it before. Looking back at you he turns to the blade knowing it well. Drawing it out he looks at the shiny metal and blood red centre. As legend would have it, the blade could never be turned against the bloodlines of your home planet. It could cut through anything but would dull against the flesh of its own. It had been made with blood from all of the families and brought to a religious order where it was forged in secrecy. There were none like it in the galaxy.

“It’s a replica” you speak as he admires the craftsmanship of your work. You’d been making this for him while he’d taken space, you’d been preparing this for him while others had been plotting on your life. You’d been making this for him in spite of your fear of him and reservations upon arriving. Putting the blade down he turns to you with dark eyes. It wasn’t the gift of a captive, it was a gift from a betrothed. Fighting for control Feyd kisses you once chastely before coming in for another, and another parting your lips. Your breathing changes as Feyd’s kiss becomes more dominant, the fingers on your chin slide down your throat and his strong hand secures around your neck kissing you with force, marking you, claiming you. His tongue sending sensations of pleasure and lust all throughout your body. Foreign sensations that exhilarate you, you feel your skin tingle as the heat rises between the two of you, your nipples hardening as the sensation in your stomach grows. Your knees grow weak and Feyd moves to his couch sitting with you across his lap without ever breaking the kiss. Your heart is racing, a strange want taking you over. You can feel him beneath you, growing harder and harder with every moment. Your senses and emotions come to a head all at once. You feel it happen, you see Feyd laying beside you, shirtless, with a hand around his manhood. His eyes stare at you while you look at him stroking himself lazily. Another flashes and he’s in the area you’re watching him when he’s sliced across the back after sending a smile up at you., while in the arena. Then there’s another you're standing in a brown palace facing a woman with blue eyes.

Feyd’s hold tightens around your neck and you pull back gasping for air. His eyes are black and his breath rugged. Your eyes hold his as he returns to the moment. Closing your eyes you wrap your arms around him terrified on the second vision. Your lips still tingle with the memory and taste of him. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks with concern. You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your neck.

“No” you whisper fighting for breath as Feyd places his face against yours, your noses and lashes touch against each other. Feyd allows himself to be intoxicated by you. The feeling was singular, he’d never been one for kissing but it was all he could do without causing you dishonour before the wedding ceremony. You wrap your arms around his neck and his muscular arms hold you close. 

“Tomorrow during your fight, don’t look up to me - just focus” you whisper.

“I will do as I please, no one will best me. In the arena I’m king” he speaks confidently. You. Go to withdraw but Feyd’s hands secure at your hips. His eyes challenge you.

“Do you trust me Feyd?” You ask and he takes a breath never breaking the eye contact.

“I don’t know … should I trust someone as perfect as you?” He asks reaching down to the hem of your dress and tearing the fabric up to your thighs. Your heart races with anticipation.

“Yes” you nod breathlessly in anticipation for his next move.

“May I request another present?”

“If you promise to heed my warning” you nod as he palms the flesh of your thigh. Your eyes close.

“May I taste you on my fingers and with my tongue?” Feyd asks.

“Taste me?” You ask, your uncertainty only thrills him more.

“It would make you feel good, I’d use my fingers to give you pleasure and kiss your centre” his words are illicit. Thinking back to his bedroom you hesitate thinking for the both of you.

“I don’t think we should Feyd, I don’t think it would stop there and you need to be focused tomorrow” you respond causing a guttural groan. Your heart aches for denying him.

“Goodnight” he says standing and putting you back on the ground. He storms to his bedroom. Confused and conflicted you head to the cleansing chambers feeling the sting of rejection. The automatic system does as it should, you cover your body conscious of the sconces and walk into the living room feeling restless. Seeing the separation of his skin as it was sliced is haunting. Such a gash would take a long recovery and impair his ability yo protect you physically, it would make him vulnerable. Dressed in a night set you pad over to the joining doors and place your hand in. It opens and you walk to Feyd’s bedroom. Knocking at the door his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of you.

“Could we lay beside each other instead?” You ask trying to bridge the distance.

“We can” he says leading you back to your bedroom. You watch as he knowingly heads to the side of the bed you don’t sleep on. Your suspicions are confirmed, he has been watching you. It’s a strange thrill. He pulls back the covers and you do the same before lying down and Feyd-Rautha draws you into him. He’s all muscle and all man. His shirtless upper half is impressive and warm. You run your fingers over his sides enjoying the feel of his smooth skin.

“Thank you for my gift” he says placing one hand over your breasts and cupping it as you lay with your back to him.

“You’re welcome” you respond and he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Will you give yourself to me after the wedding?” He asks and you smile at his one track mind.

“Yes but you intimidate me Feyd” you confess. “I’ve never been with a man and I’m not sure life has prepared me for a man with your tastes” you confess amusing him. Moving quickly he positions himself over you and between your legs on his knees. He places his hand over your lady parts he presses a thumb against your entrance over your clothes and the sensation is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Leaning down he kisses your lips pressing slow circles against you. 

“There” he says withdrawing his full lips from yours. “It would feel better than that” he explains going back onto his knees. “I would use your breasts to bring you over the edge too” he says touching your chest, Feyd never breaks eye contact as he kneads your breast over the fabric. Your nipples appear and he pinches one before kissing you gently. You miss the feel of his had at your centre and squirm under him as he deepens the kiss. You want him to show you everything he knows. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you” he whispers breaking the kiss and laying on his back. The dim light over the bed allows the two of you to see each other well. He slides his pants down and removes his cock. A large appendage that looks far more alive than those in the library books. It fills his hand and has a weight to it. Its tip is shaped reminiscent of a cherry and beautiful. It leaks clear liquid and he strokes it slowly without any reservations.

You feel swelling at your centre, and a heat there, the pull to Feyd is almost magnetic, it’s strong and undeniable. His eyes look to yours as he strokes himself lazily, more vivid than in your vision.

“Not before a fight” you whisper knowing the custom but he’s too far gone. With his free hand he pulls you into a kiss imagining its your wetness riding his cock with a vice grip. Your body completely naked under his your soft lips on his like they are now. His mouth all over you claiming you as he fucks you hard. He wanted to make you scream and moan for him and only him. He needed to hear those sounds play like a chorus over and over. He needed you feral for him, he needed you on your knees with your mouth open whenever he entered a room. He needed you waiting naked in his bed with your legs open. He needed your obedience, trust and devotion. You to be open to his toys and predilections. He needs all yeses, for all of his desires. He needs you to take control too, make your demands known and be unrelenting until he satisfies them. He needs to see his pleasure all over you and wearing it proudly.

Seizing the image of you covered in his cum sends him over the edge. You watch as his eyes shut and Feyd biceps flex, his body goes rigid and thick streams of cum sprout from him. His chest heaves his strong pectoral muscles fully flexed as is his neck. He looks vulnerable as he fights for air. He’s beautiful, something primal tells you that this is all your doing. That this is the effect you have on him. Wanting to honour it and him you step out of the bed with shaky legs you take a washcloth and run it under a warm tap. You feel his eyes on you as you return stepping into the bed you pull the drapes obscuring the view of the sconces.  Sitting beside him you place the cloth over the mess he’s made and begin to clean him off. He watches you without words still hard as you clean his manhood, stomach and hands. When you're finished you toss the cloth in the incinerator and wash your hands before returning to Feyd.

His eyes drink you in, his chest burning with love for you and the way you just took care of him. Nobody had ever been so gentle with him. Tucking himself away he reaches for you prepared to give you the world. There was no better gift, there never would be the you in his bed in his arms, no better gift then the wonder in your eyes as he pleasured himself. Exhausted and overwhelmed Feyd slips into sleep with his head on your bosom. Running your hands down his muscular back you begin a few Bene Gesserit mantras of protection over him, needing now more than ever before for him to be protected as your heart races because one of your visions had come to pass.

PART IV

_____________

Thanks for reading 🩶 Don't forget to let me know what you think of this chapter, with a like comment and reblog.

I don't think Margot Fenring survives survived her attempted seduction of Feyd. Can they manage waiting until marriage? Are there more assignation attempts? Does the vision come to pass?

hmm....

TAGS:

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[thegirlfromgonewiththewind]

I am so so so so so TIRED to see people fatshaming two perfectly healthy girls because they have round faces. It’s disgusting.

The actresses of Mai and Azula are on point for their roles. Hell, if they were chosen there must be a reason, it’s not like there’s no Asian actresses out there they could choose from.

People can’t accept that Azula can have a characterization beyond “crazy and sadist sicko”. She’s a perfectionist. She’s an asset to her father. She’s jealous of Zuko’s birthright and of how it might take what she has away. Those are things that OG Azula too had. The only difference is that we actually see it in season one and have a background on her, rather than writing it in a rant. And what has been added only makes her a more complex character, given the change in the family dynamic as well.

And Mai? The actress is talented, she delivers a good Mai, and does justice to the character. She’s 17 and at the beginning of her career, of course it won’t be perfect. She gets to grow. Thing is, you guys won’t let her, because a square jaw scares you so flipping bad that you feel the need to shame her for it.

Everyone is a body positivity advocate until a girl with a rounder face shape is cast as a character in a live action you are NOT forced to watch? Seriously?

I’ve seen so many people on the internet calling them all sort of names, fatshaming them, insulting their work without even focusing on the acting. And I’m like, what’s to fatshame there? Let me tell you: nothing.

If I have to put it through your thick head like this, so be it. Even though I hate talking about and comparing bodies.

This below is a picture of Azula’s actress.

She has the face card, she has the jawline, and she has a fit, enviable body. And you still have the audacity to “fat-shame” her?

These two pictures are in costume. Again, face card and an enviable body. She even has the expression for Azula. You see a girl with a rounder shape of face and will automatically go “no she’s too cute to be Azula!!” Dude. No. When she will actually deliver as the crazy girl we know, she will devour. She will, and you all will switch back because that’s what you are, slimy switchers.

And now, onto Mai’s actress, a very beautiful girl with talent and looks. She is literally so pretty, and you dare hate on her? You dare shame her for how she looks? From what I’ve heard she’s a minor, too, so this makes you 100000% more slimy and undeserving of any sympathy in my book.

This is her, this is the girl.

She’s literally so pretty. Maybe she hasn’t got the same facial structure of Mai, but she delivered all her lines she had in the little screen time and with the discutibile scenes she was given. She was good. But you see a square jaw, a rounder shape of face, and are immediately triggered.

And you can’t even use the stupid argument of “she’s fat”, because this is literally her.

A very normal, very healthy young woman. Not as skinny as OG Mai? So what? She’s still a fricking thin girl. Nowhere as “fat” as you haters make her to be.

I shouldn’t have to explain common sense and basic decency to grown adults, and yet here we are.

This is honestly so frustrating. In the year of 2024 you can’t possibly justify insulting girls like this, with no shame. It’s absolutely idiotic and shows very a big lack of brain cells. I see you, haters, behind your device, with your insecurities and shame for yourself, laughing at two girls who made it farther than you ever will. You can critique the acting once you’ve seen it in full potential. Until then, shut your tramp up. This is very small dick energy of you.

I don’t see why I should treat you with kindness when you are so eager to make this kind of jokes about pretty and in shape girls you are very obviously jealous of. Go touch some grass, incels.

[sillyjpeg]

BOOK OF BILL WEBSITE CHANGE

this contains MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WEBSITE CHANGE. if you want to find shit urself, dont read this!!!

also this is part one of probably many bc i cant fit everything in here. curse you image limit

i wont be going over alot of the not as important stuff, but still go explore the website for it because i got alot of good laughs!

RIGHT OFF THE BAT. In the top right corner of the screen when the lightning flashes, there are words revealed carved in the wall. it reads: VALLIS CINERIS. when this is typed into the computer it gives this video:

haunting. really giving me analog horror vibes. wasnt sure what else to do with this though.

I also noticed that on the candle in the right side of the desk, there is a code

this is decoded used the rune code, and translates into CURSED. when put into the computer, this is what is given back:

interesting.

One of the first things me and my friends did was go through the main characters names. the most interesting one of these for me is definitely Stanley, but i want to go over Pacifica first because Stanleys is LONG.

When you type in Pacifica you get this:

I love her signature btw. BUT if you type in Platinum Paz, you get somethin very, very interesting.

This may not be in the right order so forgive me, but at the end of that code, if you use a shift decoder (im so smart sue me)

it says: "STAY AWAY FROM HER CIPHER. SHE HAS THE PROTECTION OF THE LUMBERFOLKS SPIRITS"

pacificas character development has always been special to me, and this was honestly chilling. in the book of bill we see that she has nightmares about the lumberjack, and this shows how much guilt she carries. her finally finding her peace with what happened made me smile :)

but as nice and heartwarming as this is, were moving on to STANLEY PINES! and oh BOY are the stanley lovers having a field day. so first of all, if you type in Stanley, it will take you to a few different links. including gold chains, brass knuckles, an 8 ball cane, a fez, and a colonel neck tie. funny right? if you keep entering his name, this pops up:

Below this is a bunch of things with the label of being shameful. one of them is very interesting but im gonna put some lighter stuff first for the sillies.

i need alex to show us the photos from the hunky drifters catalogue alex can you hear me please i mean WHO SAID THATTTT WHO SAID THATTTTTT

ALSO NO ONE COMING TO HIS FAKE FUNERAL EXCEPT HIS MOM :( she loved her little free spirit stanley

ALSO- him stripping for flour in Tijuana, again, i need photographic evidence.

his ex wives list also made me giggle. he was MARRIED TO OLD GOLDIE????? also Marilyn being Eda made me giggle, i love the fact that they got married at some point. get them back together please. also stan having smaller hands than ford and being self-conscious about it stan i love you mwah mwah mwah

ALSO FILBRICK TRYING TO SELL STAN FOR GETTIN AN F- PLEASE

anyways now onto the section at the bottom of the Wheel of Shame page!

Its titled : HOW HE BEAT ME. im not adding a photo bc ur guy is running out of room :(

you have to click on this repeatedly to get anything good out of it, so i took the liberty of milking it for all it had!!! i didnt take screenshots of everything because some of it was redundant, but here are the interesting and or funny bits:

just reiterating, this is not all thats in there, im just putting parts that stood out to me. please take the time to go through all this urself bc its a TREAT.

now into the crazier stuff

hes obviously having some sort of breakdown, just like we see at the end of the book of bill. the last page i decoded myself, and i got this using all the different decoders:

"THROUGH LQS SFSE CN EVERYONE IVE EVER"

for "LQS SFSE CN" i used the original bill cipher code, and im not sure why it gave me this. a smarter, better decoder probably has the answer.

i can theorize a few different things on what this could possibly mean even with it not being all decoded. the one that comes to mind is "I can still see through everyone ive ever met" maybe knowing too much? but without the middle part decoded i cant say much. if you have the solution for this please leave a comment as any help would be greatly appreciated. this all did drop a few hours ago so i doubt many people are working on decoding all this.

UPDATE!! I TRANSLATED IT WRONG.

IT SAYS “THROUGH THE EYES OF EVERYONE IVE EVER”

this makes alot more sense. bill can see through others eyes so it most likely is refering too how he possesses people and sees through their eyes. In the book of bill he shows how angry he is having to watch the Pines family be happy.

It says that when he closes his eye, he can still see through the eyes of everyone hes ever…possesed? probably. So can Bill still see through Ford, or maybe Dipper, and he cant turn it off. Whenever he closes his eyes he is haunted by the happy life he failed to destroy. To see through their eyes.

This poem using gambling as a way to describe Stan's life choices really struck me. the more i thought on it the more it made sense. he gambled that Ford's project would probably still work, gambled with all of his sham products. His entire life has been a betting game. The most interesting thing about all this is the end of the poem. It reads

"IM STILL ON YOUR MIND"

this has been a theory for awhile in the gravity falls community that if stan got back all his memories, including ones about bill, wouldnt bill come back? for me this confirms the theory, and opens up a whole new can of worms which i will talk about later.

I have reached my image and video limit, but expect more posts!

stay weird yall :)

[m1ssunderstanding]

Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

[moremaybank]

SEX TAPE — j.m

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings unprotected sex, filming, oral sex (male receiving), handjob, a lil spanking, cum play, language/dirty talk

kinktober masterlist ;; jj masterlist

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Need your mouth, please.” 

JJ cursed, feeling your delicate hand tighten its grip around him. He struggled to keep his phone from slipping out of his hand and colliding with your face. His knuckles were taut and reddened as he clutched onto it, his other hand pushing your hair back from your face. 

You pouted up at both him and the camera. “But I want you to cum inside me.”

You were devilish. You were already a fucking sight, on your knees before him, lips swollen from the work it’d been doing on his length. Beads of saliva dripped down your luscious tits and over your nipples, perking them up when the slight breeze caught the wetness. Your hair was slightly disheveled from JJ’s hands, and you were looking up at him with those damn doe eyes. 

He could bust right now, just from the mere sight of you. 

His unoccupied hand slid down the side of your face, tipping your head up further with his fingertips. “I will sweetheart. I’m cumming in all those pretty holes tonight if you’re good for me. Now open up.”

That promise was enough for you to bring him back into your mouth. His mouthwatering cock was stiff and heavy when it hit your tongue. You dragged your tongue torturously slow up the vein that protruded from the underside of him, revelling in the gravelly moan that you pulled from his parted lips. 

“Yeah, baby. Just like that, fuckin’ love your mouth,” he panted. His tip hit the back of your throat, and your hand pumped what couldn’t fit in your mouth. That, combined with the sensation of you swallowing around him, threatened to cause his knees to give out. They buckled, and he steadied himself on the dresser to the left of him. “You’re the sexiest little thing on this damn planet. Gonna cover you with my cum, baby.” 

Your core throbbed violently at his words. He was close, teetering right on the edge, and all you wanted was to hear his broken voice as he came. Feel him grip your head or the back of your neck as he forced himself down your throat. And this time, you’d be able to replay it as many times as you wanted to. 

You could feel his balls tightening as your free hand moved to toy with them. You massaged them, hearing his stuttering breaths and a string of curse words leave his pink lips. His hand abandoned the dresser, and he cradled the back of your head just as you anticipated. He pushed his cock deep inside your mouth, your nose rubbing against his pelvis as you gagged around him. Your hands braced on his strong thighs as you let him use you to his content.

“Look so good with my cock down your throat, babygirl. Shit,” the cuss word left his mouth as he started to shoot his cum into you. He pulled you off of him, jerking himself vigorously and encouraging more cum to paint your face. It coated the seam of your lips, some on your cheeks and chin. More landed on your neck and chest, the tits he loved so much now draped with it as well. 

The flash grew brighter in your eyes as he inched the camera closer to you. His thumb swiped over your lips, collecting his release and stuffing it into your mouth. “You’re so pretty like this. I fuckin’ love you.” 

“I love you more,” you beamed up at him, your throat a bit sore from his assault. You chose to ignore it, though, enjoying the view up above you. Tousled hair, hazy eyes, a lovestruck grin pulling at his lips. His strong chest heaved, inflating and deflating as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

“Good,” he spoke, breaking you out form your ogling. “Now get on the bed. On your stomach.”

You followed his command, lying down but raising your hips up for him when he slid a pillow beneath them. He reached over you, flipping the camera on his phone to the front view, and leaned it against the headboard. Your excited smile was clear on the screen, forcing JJ to mirror it. He kissed your cheek, the back of your shoulder, and left a trail of opened mouth ones down your spine. His hands grabbed handfuls of your ass cheeks, spreading you open so he could spit onto you and lube you up. He gave one of your cheeks a harsh smack, the sound echoing throughout the room, and shoved himself into your entrance. The yelp that left your lips made him chuckle, and he squeezed the same flesh he’d slapped beneath his palm.

“J-J, so deep.” You struggled to keep your head upright, leaning up on your forearms. Your head dangled as your eyes closed. He was slipping so deep inside of you, and your toes were already curling. 

“No,” he chided. He leaned over you once again, letting his hand hold your throat to force your gaze up. “Look at the camera. Watch how pretty you look when daddy fucks you.” 

You kept your eyes trained on the screen in front of you, meeting his heated gaze. The hand that wasn’t on your throat latched onto your hip, clutching it as his hips drove into yours. Each of his thrusts pulled a moan from you, and the sweet sounds only encouraged JJ to go harder. 

“You like watching, baby? Gonna use this video to make yourself cum when I’m not there?” 

You nodded, mumbling a pleasure-struck yes, daddy. Your mouth was stuck in a permanent ‘o’ shape as he pummelled into you, working your walls and soothing the ache they previously felt from their emptiness.

“Yeah, I know you will. My perfect slut, always playing with her pretty pussy when she’s missin’ me.” 

He raised you up, his other hand tugging your arm back so you could be flush against his front. Your eyes screwed shut when his cock rubbed at your g-spot again and again. The angle and depth were all too perfect, your body going slack in his hold. 

“J, keep going. Oh my god, just like that. Yes,” you called out. 

“My girl likes being fucked on camera like a good ‘lil whore, huh? Wants to be my own personal cam girl?” 

You cried out for him louder, the collision of your flesh providing you with a heavenly sting. His hand slithered to the back of your neck, pushing you back down.You held your gaze on the screen as best as you could, the frame showing JJ’s violent-like movements as he pounded into your pussy. He was watching himself disappear into you, jaw clenched and clearly feeling the rush as it riled him up. Then, he scrambled to snatch his phone, holding it above where you two were joined, letting the camera capture him inside you.

“‘M gonna show this damn video to anyone who tries to take what’s mine. Show ‘em how you let me paint your face, how you let me fuck you raw ‘n fill you up. Make everyone so goddamn jealous.” 

When you didn’t answer, he gave you an especially hard thrust, knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Tell me you want it. Tell ‘em how dirty you are, wanting me to show everyone how good I fuck you.”

“I want it,” you whined, your fingers curling into the comforter beneath you. 

“Again.” 

“I want it, daddy. Need it.”

“Good,” he rasped, “Good fuckin’ girl. Cum for me. Squeeze me nice ‘n tight, baby. Make me cum too.” 

⋆༺♱༻⋆

JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE): @pankowperfection @softherveauxs @rafesveryrealgf @findapenny @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @somerandos-world @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @jeyusosgirl @urbestieboo @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @jjmaybanksgun @gillybear17 @abbybarnesstuff @lovelyxtom @camelliaflow3r @dirtytissuebox @rcbuttercup @redhead1180 @conniesanchor @runningfrom2am @drewstarkeysbae @drewstarkeys-whore @sluttycadence @hoeforstarkey24 @violetmacher @eventualoptimism

[g-xix]

angry ginge dating hcs but with a YouTuber reader who pretty big (million subs) but her personality is kinda the opposite of his (reserved and more introverted)

Black Cat x Golden Retriever dynamic | Angryginge13

Okay j an fyi of the FORMAT: -At first if how u met n got dating (note form story) -Then is the HC's of how it is to date Ginge post-meeting + asking out (j notes)

---------------------------

-Started w chatting back and forth on stream a bit

-First time you communicated was when you were streaming, you got a raid from angryginge13 -Said the ritual thankyou and hope your stream was well… -But then realised that Ginge's raiding chat was spamming GINGE WAS SIMPING FOR YOU, GINGE THINKS YOU'RE FIT, GINGE WOULD SELL FRED FOR A DATE WITH YOU -Got a wee bit shy and nervous at that because you weren't one to get many compliments to learn how to deal with them -Giggled whilst Ginge was trying to tell his chat to SHUSH AND BE SUBTLE, I TOLD U THAT IN CONFIDENCE by spamming your chat with messages of his own -Chat picked up on your laughter and blushing as deffo flerting, which only made you more flustered in the moment -Ginge asked you to add him on Discord in the stream, you just chose to ignore it because you didn't want to embarrass yourself by talking to him on stream -You ended up adding one another on Discord after the stream and having a private latenight discord call, instead -Small talk, little jokes, whispered conversations and getting to know one another… -He made you laugh quietly and had you resting your head on your palm listening to him, biting your lip every so often as you admired how good-looking he actually was

-Began calling latenight more frequently, until it became a little ritual of the two of u to call and chill post-stream with one another -Morgan (Yep, you got onto the first name basis) was proper interested and just a bit awestruck when you first spoke properly to him -Probs bc initially you let him ramble and talk about himself, asking questions of your own and getting to know him bc you were too shy to talk at first -But as you spent more time together and got to know one another, he began asking more about you and you opened up more -And he just picked up everything you said like a sponge, soaking up all the precious time he could spend with you -He loved the way your voice sounded on the speaker, and always gamed split-screen so that he could play Minecraft or GTA and look to the Discord tab to the side, to watch as your eyes crinkled and lips curved into the gorgeous smile whilst you laughed whenever he made a joke -You're the type of always put a hand over your mouth when you smile, just out of shyness -Morgan always told you to pull your hand down because he wanted to see you smile though -Which instantly gave butterflies. 🦋🦋 -He really thought you were beautiful, through and through.

-Not too long later, you were chatting to Morgan on stream that you were going to Manchester in a few days for an event -You secretly had Morgan's stream pulled up whilst you were on call with him, and watched as his mouth fell open at the news- muting himself on Discord to air-fist on the stream, letting out an excited scream and giving his chair a happy punch a few times, letting out three happy "YANITED, YANITED, YANITED"s before unmuting on Discord again and responding: -"Oh, that's awesome." -You laughed at how cool he sounded, despite the mini happy-ecstatic-anger-aggression-episode he'd had only moments prior to that -"Does that mean I'll be seeing you soon?" He asked hopefully. -You looked at how hopeful he looked on the screen, eyes wide and face full of wonder as he waited for your answer eagerly. -"No." You responded bluntly, unable to stop yourself from crushing his dreams for just a moment. -Morgan's face deflated like a balloon, seeming absolutely devastated before you let out a chuckle, unable to hold the lie -"I'm joking, I can't wait to see you soon, Morgan," you responded quietly with a little smile which inflated to an uncontainable grin as you switched to watch Morgan's stream. -Morgan muted in the call, turning back to address his stream as his bubbliness returned- screaming a celebration and happily punching his chair a few more times, clearly over the moon at the prospect of finally getting to see you irl soon -Recollected himself before unmuted and responding calmly "That's awesome, can't wait to see you in a few."

-Two weeks later, you were sat outside Old Trafford stadium as he'd said he'd pick you up from there. -You had come quite early since Morgan wanted to take you around Salford and show you his town -Still yawning and a wee bit chilly in the morning coolness, you sat outside the stadium's entrance on your suitcase, pulling your phone out -Took a selfie with the Trafford stadium and did a little piece for your vlog, saying how you'd arrived and all… -Looked through Snapchat whilst waiting… -And YouTube… -And Twitter… -Maybe he's just running a little bit late, you'd told yourself -And Instagram… -And YouTube again… -It had been nearly 45-bloody-minutes since Morgan had said he's pick you up and there was still no bloody sight of him. -Did a little piece for the vlog again and relocated to a comfier bench for the next fifteen minutes -It had been an hour since he said he'd pick you up from the stadium, and still there was no sight of him. -Felt a bit crushed at the prospect he's forgotten you. -Getting ready to leave, you got up and began wheeling your suitcase behind you, looking for the nearest exit our of the stadium when- -"I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE-" -A solid wall crashed into yours, nearly knocking you off your feet as the body hit you with BIG impact, arms wrapping around your shoulder as Morgan hugged you like you'd known one another for years -"MORGAN!" You exclaim his name as you catch the voice and ginger hair of the person, tentatively hugging back, a little bit shy seeing as it was your first time meeting the person behind the screen -He let out a laugh, pulling back to look at you in the eyes and scan your face, as though he didn't quite believe you were there -To be honest, he was just absolutely in awe of everything- the fact you were so shy and quiet the first time he'd called you, and now the fact he was here- stood opposite his favourite crush-turned-friend(-and-he-hoped-would-turn-girlfriend)

-Fair to say the next few days were a whole whirl of chaos. -Morgan introduced you to EVERYTHING in Salford- his favourite park he went to as a kid, his old primark school, his favourite chippy and Chinese takeout place… -When night fell on the first night, you went to leave when- -"Aren't you staying overnight?" He furrowed his brows together in confusion -"Didn't know whether you or whoever you live with would be fine with that," You responded, a tad nervous as you yourself had wondered whether you would be allowed to stay at Morgan's, and you didn't want to ask and seem as though you were inviting yourself. -Luckily Morgan seemed to take it in his stride as he wrapped an arm around you confidently- sending little tingles where his hand met your skin and pulsed electricity through your body at the feeling of him so close- as he brought you up to his room -Back at his house, it felt so comfortable being in his room- the one you'd only seen the background of through Discord calls -He gave you a tour of all his little wall decorations and he even had a few medals strung up on the walls from old football tournaments, which he proudly explained before moving onto his prized Sondico boots -You had another latenight talk that night- the only difference from usual being that you two were in person, and could just look to the other side of the room when you wanted to see the other -Ended up staying awake well into the morning, at which point you'd relocated to his bed, wrapping yourself in his duvet whilst he lay in his gaming chair with a blanket around himself -You still couldn't quite believe you were seeing him in person as his duvet was wrapped around you, the crispy pine smell something you didn't expect from Morgan at first, but grew more comfortable and accustomed to with each breath -A silence naturally fell in conversation at some point and before you knew it, the two of you fell asleep around 3-or-so in the morning.

-You had a few more days to spend in Manchester, and you made the absolute most of it with Morgan with you -Did a stream one night, where you shared the chair with Ginge and played Minecraft together on his PC -Kept alternating between who got to sit on who's lap as either of you took over from using the mouse and keyboard -You made a great show of miming to the chat that Ginge stinks every time his back was turned to you and he sat on your lap -Ginge (apparently) made a big deal of you being too heavy for him whenever you weren't looking at the webcam and were playing MC, despite the fact that on the webcam it was obvious that you were way smaller compared to him -Ended the stream my shutting down Minecraft, just sititng on Morgan's lap and leaning your head back on his shoulder, reading the chat and listening to him talk to his viewers whilst you took a break from entertaining the stream, just too tired to keep up -You kept getting close to falling asleep, only opening your eyes slightly and coming back to conscience every time Morgan said something a bit louder -Eventually Morgan realised your sleepiness and you briefly heard him mumble to the chat before he draped a blanket over you and ended the stream, just letting you lie and fall asleep on him in the gaming chair

-Woke up the next morning to see cute compilation clips of you all over Twitter, TikTok and all other short-form-content apps… -Featured clips from last night's stream including: Ginge chasing you around the room with his football, yelling for you to JUST DO 5 KEEPY UPS Him pretending to be be in excruciating pain as you sat on the very edge of his lap- clearly not actually hurting him. Ginge trying to persuade you and mentoring you in yelling his infamous YANITED And sweetest of all, when u were close to falling asleep and he noticed, so he put a finger to his lips at the chat telling them to shut up. He opened up a paint document and typed shall i blow an airhorn rn?, running a poll for chat to decide before ultimately deciding against (despite the poll's encouragement to disrupt your sleep), and instead he just draped a United blanket over you, proud to see you supporting his team- even if you weren't conscious to recognise it.

-Streamed a bit later by reacting to your tiktok fyp with him, when one of the ship edits of yourself and him you seen earlier had popped up again -You had signed into YOUR TikTok account on his PC asw -Hence the like button to the left glowing bright red, as you'd already seen the TikTok earlier and had given it a like since you thought it was really quite cute -You went bright red and flustered in the face as you glanced at chat, watching as it tenfolded in speed as everyone began pointing out how you'd already liked it -You hoped Ginge would scroll down to the next video and that would be the end of that, but nooooo… -He looked to chat and read off The video's already been liked, looking back to the video and realising you had indeed liked it prior to watching it there -Ginge goes bright red, slightly flustered, but bursts out laughing nonetheless, making you drop your head into your hands in embarrassment -"DO YOU LIKE ME?" He exclaimed, happily shocked. "ARE YOU SAYING YOU LIKE ME AFTER ALL THIS TIME?" -Your shoulders shook at a combination of laughter and near tearfulness from what felt like it were cyber bullying. -Ginge was shocked by your lack of denial though, clearly expecting you to laugh it off and disagree. His heart swelled in his chest as he realised that you liked him- but that didn't stop him from not taunting you further, wide grin on his face as he bounced his leg beneath you -"I LIKED YOU FIRST BUT I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D FALL FOR AN UGLY BASTARD LIKE ME- DO YOU ACTUALLY LIKE ME?" His enthusiastic shouts were almost degrading to himself, and made you die a bit inside as he didn't stop. "DO YOU WANT TO KISS ME, Y/N?" -Clearly his mocking was getting too much and he was growing far too cocky. -"What if i did?" You responded to his taunts, throwing him off guard as his eyes widened, jaw falling slack as the taunts turned right back and onto him. -"Eh?" He questioned, not quite believing it. -The chat was running at the speed of light, just as confused as Ginge at the sudden confidence you seemed to have, despite being such a shy persona. -"Said what I said." You shrugged, though you could feel electricity building in your stomach out of fear and yet also excitement. -You pressed the button on his keyboard, turning the camera off of you two and instead onto the staring screen as you turned around to face him, smiling shyly as his mouth, in a perfect "o" began curling into a hopeful smile. -His hand worked its way from the armrest up to your face, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as his blue eyes glowed in excitement -"Really?" He whispered, his eyes dropping down to your lips all too yearningly -You barely managed to respond by nodding your head before his lips crashed against yours eagerly, your hands working to the back of his head and practically pulling his face closer to yours, all too happy that this was happening yourself -Could've been a second or a half-hour before you pulled away, lips still tingling as they curled into an ecstatic grin, his eyes fluttering open to meet your own once more, before he dove in for another, shorter, more appreciative kiss -Turned the camera back on after a giggle was shared between the two of you- watching as the chat accelerated at lightning pace, commenting on the way the two of you absolutely looked like you'd just kissed- lips puffy, cheeks red and smiles simply ecstatic -Ginge could only respond by standing up, picking you up bridal style with a squeal as he cheered and lifted you, yelling happily- "I'VE GOT MESELF A GIRLFRIEENDD!"

DATING HC'S BETWEEN SHY!GF AND LOUD-ASS!GINGE: -Arm around the shoulder type love -He walks around with you under his arm so that he's basically hugging you whilst he walks -That way he always gets to introduce you to everyone he meets/is talking with asw because he knows you get nervous doing that alone -Loves that possessive feeling as well -He loves having you next to him because it reminds him he somehow managed to bag the girl he just had an online crush on and never thought he's actually manage to date -You love having his arm around you because you just know that he does it because he's proud to be with you -Also you love his arm around you because it means you can always just wrap your arms around his middle and hug him freely -Whenever you get a bit nervous or overwhelmed by what's going on around you, you take his hand that's around your shoulder and hold it / squeeze it just to relieve your stress -He always leans down and whispers something sweet to you, whether that be words of encouragement or a little joke to get your spirits up again -As much as you like being able to hug around his middle when he's got his arm around you- he loves being able to just pull you closer and press a kiss to the top of your head or cheek when he gets those moments of appreciation and awe of how the hell he's managed to bag you -He's just sm taller, like, the head kisses are constant -But you aren't complaining 🤭 -He's such a hugger asw though, like genuinely so full of love n hugs -Ya seen him get super happy when Simon asked him to play in the charity match? Yk, he punched the chair out of happy aggression? Well: -Gets happy-aggressive with you -This mf is like, hugs you so tightly you feel like you might burst sometimes -And also he's just so fucking strong, like, he'll just pick you up randomly -Loves surprising you by just sweeping you off your feet so that he's carrying you… -Before then just making you scream as he throws you onto the sofa or bed -Pre-sleep, yk how everyone opens up a bit more? -He just opens up and gets way more lovey-touchy -Wants to watch some Netflix… -Have you lying on top of him, head resting on his chest, his hand on your lower back, gently rubbing -Fall asleep either cuddling or at the bare minimum with backs touching/hand holding… -You love that he's so touchy bc it means you never have to ask him to come over so you can hug him- he's already by your side and making you feel loved -He loves seeing you in his clothes as well -Size difference is a key part of dating Morgan. -Seeing you enveloped in one of his hoodies that's so big on you- the cuffs covering your hands and material all bunched up and ending mid thigh always has him feeling some typ'a way -First time he caught you wearing his large hoodie he was a little surprised, but over the next few days he began liking seeing you in it more and more… Until he realised that he actually liked you wearing his stuff. -Tried to get you to wear his Manchester United shirt constantly -(That's the one item of clothing of his you swear you'll never touch) -At first, into the relationship I think the two of you were used to hugging and all, but still hadn't crossed or discussed a few boundaries… (Yk, in terms of touching one another in the 🔞 way)

-And you hadn't really initiated and touch or anything, yet -One time when you and ginge was cooking dinner, he was trying to find the strainer -Had Ginge on his tip toes looking through the uppermost cupboards, rifling through the pantry, even checking other rooms… -When he bent over to look into the cutlery draw, he let out a sharp gasp and jumped as he felt something come down on his ass hard -He turned around instantly, feeling absolutely shocked and violated as he turned around and saw you with silicon spatula in your hand, hand pressed over your own mouth as you were shocked at your actions -His hand found his ass, massaging the pain out as he laughed between his pain, asking why you'd do that -"If you put that cake in front of me it's gonna get eaten" Ginge still quotes you to this day -Ginge is just so proud to have a girlfriend tbh he loved doing couple-y things -Halloweens- he always suggests the best couple's costumes -The first year you two went as Ron and Hermione (didn't have enough time to get a proper good outfit) -Next year he went as Ed Sheeran, you went as Taylor Swift -And most recently, he was allowed to organise what you'd wear for halloween… He wore his ManU kit, and had you dress as an inflatable football. -Those Insta pics went hard. -Ginge loves doing allsorts of couple-y things tho, like, he LOVES organising dates too -Just so grateful and happy that's he's dating you he's always so happy to organise a date where he just gets to spend time with you -He's organised theme-park dates, movie-night dates, TikTok-game-decides-our-date dates… -When you first brought him down South to stay at yours for the first time, you took him around your city, showed him all the personal landmarks of your town… -And as night fell, you brought him into your backgarden to climb the tall old tree at the very back, and sit in your childhood treehouse -He was shocked when he saw the fairylights covering the walls, the bottle of bubbly, and a blanket and projector all inside the treehouse -"Planned a date for once," You smiled shyly as he ogled at the interior and the clear effort you'd put into the treehouse, as it looked perfectly cozy for a date night -Ended up falling asleep watching Moana together, cuddled against the hard wooden floors of the treehouse -Woke up with all sorts of back pains. -Couldn't say you regretted it though, it felt lovely to organise a date for once- especially because Ginge was so happy for the next few days- constantly hugging you from behind and randomly kissing you on the head

YOUR SONGS: Sweet Caroline, Neil Diamond Crazy in Love, Beyonce & Jay-Z Perfect, Ed Sheeran Blue hair, TV girl Like I want You, Giveon Pluto Projector, Rex Orange County 96 Bars or Revenge, JME

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[emsprovisions]

I know I am being greedy here but,

3. I can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, TK

8. being ur partner's mum's favorite.

from romance prompt please.

From this list of writing prompts that I am no longer accepting. Hello anon! Someone else has also asked for no. 3 so I will answer theirs :)

being ur partner's mum's favorite.

Carlos sits on the couch, his ankle crossed over his opposite knee and a beer in his hand as he watches his husband playing firefighter with action figures and a toy fire engine with their young sobrinos on the floor. They keep pausing because they want to hear TK’s stories from his firefighter days, since apparently–according to Six-and-eight-year-old Diego and Juliana–paramedics aren’t as cool. They giggle as TK keeps playfully correcting their terminology of the ladder truck and exactly how many inches of line they should start and Carlos’s heart just swells. 

“Ay, TK?” Carlos’s mom pops her head in from the backdoor, “Are you in here, mijo?”

“What do you need, Ma?” Carlos sits up, uncrossing his legs and making to get up.

“Oh, no, you stay right there, Carlitos. I need TK’s expertise.”

“It’s fine, babe, I could do with stretching my legs anyway,” TK smiles up at Carlos. He gets up, much to Diego and Juliana’s dismay, and promises he’ll be back. He purposely walks around the couch so he can pass Carlos, stooping to kiss the top of his head as he does so. 

After TK disappears, Carlos is left alone with his sobrinos, and they coax him into playing firefighter with him instead. But Tío TK does it better than Tío Carlos, evidently. 

When TK’s been gone for too long, and Carlos’s brother-in-law wanders in to check on his kids, Carlos stands up. 

“Have you seen TK?” He asks Ricardo as he approaches. 

“He’s out on the back porch,” Ricardo says, almost bitterly. “With your mom, and Tía Lucy, and my wife.”

“Uh, thanks,” Carlos says, looking at Ricky apprehensively before excusing himself in search of his husband. 

TK’s got a glass of sweet tea in his hand, slapping his knee, while Ana clings to his arm, gasping for breath. 

“No way!” She laughs. “Tonterías! That did not happen.”

“It did,” TK nods. “I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

TK looks up as the screen door swings shut and sees Carlos step out before anyone else. 

“Hey, baby!” TK calls. “Come join us.”

Carlos lingers by the door, watching TK fit in with his family so seamlessly. They’ve been married for nearly a year now, but sometimes it still surprises him that he has this. He not only gets to be himself, he gets to be himself around his family, and they are all enamored with TK, too. 

TK’s smiling at him, patting the empty seat beside him and Carlos smiles and slides onto the long bench beside his husband, an arm going around his shoulder and TK’s hand falling into place on top of his knee. 

“What did I interrupt?” Carlos asks. 

“Oh, I was just telling everyone about that call we got the other day, where the neighbors were having a domestic dispute and one of them threw pickle juice all over my patient and it turned out she’s allergic to pickles,” TK grins, catching Carlos up on the story. “Ana here doesn’t believe that we get calls as ridiculous as that all the time.”

“That’s because that’s impossible!” Ana scoffs. “Who’s allergic to pickles??”

“My patient, evidently,” TK smirks at her. 

Carlos laughs, “There’s a lot of stupid people in this world, Ana. You would not believe the absurdity of some of the calls I used to get under APD.”

“Babe, you get ridiculous cases now too,” TK reminds him. 

“Cuéntanos más de tus historias, TK.”

TK smiles warmly at Tía Lucy over in her blue adirondack chair in the deck before looking up to Carlos for help. 

“Tía wants to hear more of your stories,” Carlos tells him, looking up at his great aunt and the delight on her face. She can’t speak English, but she can mostly understand it, and joy and humor are universal languages anyways. 

TK launches into more funny stories from different calls before Ricardo comes outside with a screaming Diego, and it’s time for Ana to go home. 

Andrea takes TK inside and Carlos is tasked with helping Tía Lucy inside and to her chair in her room. 

“You have a sweet young man, Carlitos,” she tells him in Spanish. “Muy guapo y divertido.”

It’s not the first time she’s commented on TK. Honestly, Tía Lucy always fawns over Carlos’s husband to the point Carlos wonders if she doesn’t have some schoolgirl type crush on him. Carlos has no idea how TK charms everyone that comes into his orbit, he’s just happy he’s the lucky guy TK vowed forever with. 

“I think so too, Tía,” Carlos responds in Spanish, winking at her. 

They chat for a while longer before Tía Lucy says she’s tired. Carlos kisses her cheek and wishes her a goodnight. He wanders back out into the main room to find TK and his mom chatting in hushed voices on the couch. TK has his hand on Andrea’s arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her skin. She pulls him into a tight hug, then kisses his cheek and whispers something into his ear.

Carlos watches the scene unfold, feeling a little bad for interrupting. But before he can duck into the kitchen unnoticed, his mom catches sight of him. 

“Oh, Carlitos!” She pulls away from TK and wipes delicately at the skin beneath her eyes. 

“Hi, Mamá. Everything okay?” Carlos asks, coming nearer to them.

“We’re okay,” TK reassures. His eyes are a bit shiny too. He reaches out for Carlos’s hand and Carlos comes close enough to give it to him.

Neither of them offer up any hint of what their conversation was about, but Andrea stands up and gives Carlos a warm and tight hug. And even though he’s almost twice her size, he still folds easily into his mother’s arms. 

It’s not until they’re in the car, driving down the 35, the darkness of the night stretching all around them and Carlos’s hand extended over the console on TK’s thigh, does Carlos find the bravery to ask what that was about.

TK plays with Carlos’s fingers with both hands and says in a quiet voice, “She was talking to me about being a Ranger’s spouse…”

Carlos glances over at TK. It’s hard to get a read on him as they pass through swathes of light from oncoming headlights and the rare street light. 

“Oh?”

TK shakes his head, “You’ve been in law enforcement the entire time we’ve been together, baby, it’s not like her advice was anything I haven’t already worried about before.”

“What did she say?” Carlos asks, his anxiety spiking and suddenly wishing he’d saved this conversation for home so he could see TK better. 

TK’s fingers keep brushing over his knuckles. “She just wanted me to know you could be in danger sometimes, which again, isn’t really new. But she also wanted me to know if I ever need to talk to someone about what I’ll go through as your husband, I could talk to her.”

Carlos glances over again, softening a bit at his mom offering that to TK. “What do you think about that?”

“I think it’s nice.” Carlos can hear the smile in TK’s voice. “I love your mom, and I love that she would want to be there to help me support you.”

“Buuut…?”

“No but’s,” TK says, shaking his head. “She says we’re a strong couple, and sees how much we love each other. She thinks we can handle anything.”

“She’s not the only one,” Carlos smiles, squeezing TK’s thigh. 

“No,” TK smiles. “She’s not the only one. She told me the best thing I can do for you is love you, and remind you you’re never alone in life, and remind you to take care of yourself and put work away when you’re home.” 

Carlos turns his palm up and TK gives him his hand, lacing their fingers together. He takes it a step further by cradling Carlos’s arm and tilting sideways to lean against Carlos’s bicep. 

“You do a good job of making sure I’m taken care of, baby,” Carlos says softly as he takes their exit for home. 

“You’re worth it,” TK says simply, turning his face to kiss Carlos’s shoulder. 

“You know my family’s enamored with you, right?” Carlos smiles.

TK laughs and teases, “Are you jealous Tía Lucy dotes on me now more than you?”

“No,” Carlos says, his voice light. “I love seeing you with our family. It makes me happy.”

TK snuggles up against Carlos’s arm even more in the passenger seat and Carlos tells him he better not fall asleep when they’re five minutes from home. He feels TK’s smile against his arm, and fondness for his husband impossibly grows. 

TK sure does know how to steal a Reyes’s heart.

[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (01) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Boston by Augustana; Shelter by Luca Fogale || Playlist 🎶

A/N: Posting this today to celebrate People pt.2 and D-Day! Here’s a little piece I’ve had for a while. It felt fitting to write something about dreams and finding your purpose through Yoongi and at a time when I’m going through something similar. There’s nothing like his wisdom and his warmth so I hope this could mean something to you somehow. 💕 Please enjoy! And 🫡 to NBA Ambassador Suga! Now that’s his 🏀 dream in another form.

Present Day

There’s always something magical whenever you watch yourself on screen. 

It’s not due to some narcissistic reason or an insatiable desire for the spotlight; it’s not even because you think you’re really talented. Sure, you like the attention and just like anyone who’s spent years of their lives perfecting their craft, you want to be pretty great at it, but all those thoughts become suspended whenever it’s your scene. 

During these instances, it’s only about your character and her emotions, and that’s what you think is remarkable about it - watching yourself is just like being there, in that moment, on that set, feeling it all. 

Most actors would say they love acting because it gives them a variety of roles and personalities to play. You like that bit, too, but it’s the character’s emotions that you commit yourself to the most; it’s being able to immerse yourself in the feelings of joy and anger, of contempt and fear, of envy and admiration, of guilt and love. You like the finiteness of it, that with acting comes the feeling, and you know at some point, it’s going to end. 

Once the scene is over, so is the emotion; you’re able to let go of it right away with one breath. You’re good at that, you think - holding onto something for as long as it’s yours, and then letting it go when it no longer is. 

The collective gasp of the people around you breaks your bubble only a little; you release a breath yourself as the last scene unfolds. And with the final shot and the succeeding transition to the end credits, you let go of the sadness.

“I can’t believe that only took one shot,” your best friend, Taehyung, says in awe. “I would’ve been crying already knowing how it ends.”

“Jin and I challenged each other,” you proudly say. “We said we’d do our absolute best for that first try and the director thought it was that good. Seriously, not crying until that last second was so hard; I didn’t think I could do it.”

The Kim Seokjin, your co-actor and good friend, looks at you from the other side of the couch with that soft and proud look that you only ever get from him once a project is over. You return the sentiment, knowing that you wouldn’t have survived your first lead role in a drama series if he wasn’t acting alongside you. 

He’d been your senior at university where you both took your major in acting. He was already modeling then and snagged a major role in a movie right after graduation; he became a household name after that. 

You watched from the sidelines as he achieved his dreams while you took the occasional 30-second roles given to the students, but he didn’t forget you. He called regularly to know how you were doing, gave tips when you asked, and informed you of upcoming auditions. 

It was the type of friendship that challenged you, given that you both wanted to one day star in a series or movie together, a culmination of all the long hours of rehearsals and line-reading and classes that you both did. He had already made a name for himself; you wanted to be good enough to have yours be opposite his. 

It would take a few years, but after a supporting role in a romcom movie that saw people wanting more of you, you and Jin finally got cast in a series about a mortal woman falling in love with a celestial being, which, at the beginning, reflected your respective statuses in the industry. You expected the show to do well - everything that Kim Seokjin touches turns to gold, as the saying goes - but you didn’t expect for the public to love you both as a pair as much as they do, given that they want you to star in another show right away. 

“I cried as I turned around,” Jin says of the scene where he had to go back to his world and leave you behind. “That was heavy and even I’m impressed we did it in one shot.”

“Well, the sadness and grief would have dwindled by the third or fourth time,” you chuckle. “I’m not good enough yet to maintain all the emotions after so many takes.”

“Not that you aren’t good enough,” Jin counters. “You just haven’t been in the industry that long yet. That kind of experience makes a difference. I’d say I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the same emotion for long, too. It was a difficult one. I mean, what goodbye scene isn’t?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course, but much of why it was difficult for you to keep the emotions in was because it was your first goodbye scene. You have a feeling that the succeeding ones wouldn’t be any easier, though. You’d like to think you’re okay with goodbyes and that says a lot, but then again, you don’t know anyone who’s actually good at it.

Or maybe you do. But you’d rather not think about it.

It’s silent for a few more seconds. You suppose that the rest of your co-actors who are here with you are still processing the end of a series that’s been their source of comfort for the past few months, too. It had been your weekly routine to watch the episode together in Jin’s house, not wanting to let go of each other just yet after filming wrapped up a few weeks ago. 

“Well, that was amazing, wasn’t it?” He finally speaks up. “It was a good run and thank god that ___ insisted on these watch parties. Or else I’d be crying by myself in my room after the finale,” he laughs. “This better not be the last time we see each other.”

“Because it isn’t,” you reply. “We still have that cast and crew dinner and a couple more filming stuff for promo. That’s easily another 3 more weeks of being together. Which is really 3 weeks too short.”

“So… does anyone want to go on a trip after that?” Hyun-seung, one of the actors, excitedly suggests. “It’d be a good way to unwind and use up what we’ll earn.”

You laugh along with everyone but you’re the only one who passes up on it. 

“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have a trip to Daegu at the end of the month and I can’t move it.”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the living room, and you insist that they should continue with the trip without you. Most of them don’t want to, but you eye Jin so that he would make the call to push through with it even if you won’t be around, so he does. It’s rare to find such good company with other actors, and you truly want them to maintain the friendships they built here way beyond the series. 

Your friends make general plans as you listen in, wishing you could be there instead of home, which is where you’ll be for the next 2 months as you promised your family. Or more like, as they guiltripped you into doing. 

You haven’t been home in years and for good reason. After your parents separated and you were the lone child who didn’t harbor anger towards your mother who wanted to pursue her dreams elsewhere, you promised yourself you’d leave that place, too. 

Visits during summer had been fine. But after the most painful goodbye you ever made, you’d stopped going back altogether, reasoning that your up and coming career required all your time. You doubt that your family knew the truth, and despite their remarks of you following in the footsteps of your mother, those weren’t enough for you to open up about something so heartbreaking, knowing it hit too close to home. Their bitterness wasn’t a reason for you to keep going back either. 

“Daegu, really?” Jin asks after everyone else has left, save for Taehyung and Jimin, your personal assistant whose glassy eyes say he’s not yet over the season finale. “You haven’t been home in 6 years.”

“Four, actually,” you correct him. “I had a filming there sometime ago.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually go home,” he clarifies. “You went to the shoot then back to your hotel. I remember that; I kept asking Tae how you were doing.”

“I was fine,” you shrug. “How was I supposed to be? I was good, just couldn’t wait to get back here. I had a boyfriend, remember?”

“Andrew was a fling, not a boyfriend,” Jin rolls his eyes, and you confirm that the model is his least favorite of your exes. “And if I remember correctly, you broke it off days later.”

“Well, it stops being good when it stops being fun,” Taehyung says, mocking your usual statement whenever your friends ask why you broke things off with your partners. “She shut down when she came back. I guess going home does that to her.”

“You know how places just naturally comfort you? Daegu isn’t that place,” you try to explain. “I had to get it off my system for the one week I was there and Andrew acted out. I just didn’t want the drama.”

Everyone nods, knowing it’s how you usually are. You always viewed relationships as a complement to your job. Being an actor is tough work with its own complications and you definitely don’t want it from your partner. It was always easy for you to fall into that honeymoon hole with someone, but you always walked away from it just as quick once the rainbows and butterflies had subsided. Whether it’s jealousy over your leading men or not having enough time, or just wanting to be by yourself to regroup, your exes always found a reason to argue. And you were always good at walking away when you needed to.

It was like that with every person. Except one. Your friends don’t know if he’s the reason why, or if he’s the exception.

“So what made you decide to go home? And for how long?” Jin queries, feeling a little worried because of what he knows is out there for you. He’s always been a little protective like that.

“About 2 months?” You respond, to the surprise of the older man. “My dad wants me to celebrate his wedding anniversary with them. And spend time with my sisters’ kids and my grandparents and shit.”

“And spend time with my parents,” Taehyung adds, knowing it’s probably the only thing you’re excited about, given how much they adore you and vice versa. “They can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here,” you finally smile. “We’re definitely seeing them first.”

“Anyone else you’re going to see there?” Jin asks some more.

“You can say his name, you know?” You nudge your friend’s knee. “I know he’s who you mean.”

“Well then. Are you going to see Yoongi?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him but I probably will. It’s a big city but it’s a small town. Plus, I’m with Daegu’s Prince right here,” you say, pointing to your best friend who’s made a name for himself as a ballad singer. “Tae will be dragging me around so I won’t be surprised if I encounter Yoongi somehow, somewhere.”

“And what happens when you see him?” Jimin now asks, wanting to know if he’d need to drive to you in case you decide to come home early. 

“Then I see him. We’re… fine,” you state, earning you an eye roll from each man, so you clarify. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine living my dream in Seoul. And he’s a college basketball coach in Daegu, which is the closest to his dream he could get, and I heard his team’s doing really well. It’s been 6 years. He let me go. And I’ve moved on. Who knows how it’s gonna be like? But I’m civil with each one of my exes and it won’t be any different with him.”

“He’s different, though,” Jimin points out. “You actually loved him; you can’t say the same for all your exes. And you can’t argue that,” he adds, seeing your shaking head and disagreeing face. “Drunk and hungover you told me all that more than once and I trust that version of you over the sober one when it comes to your love life.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All,” you frown at him. “I wasn’t going to deny that but it was the naive, impulsive, hopeless romantic version of me who loved him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve grown up. I know what I want from my partner, and Yoongi is just the small town boy who’ll always think that his broken dreams will keep him from loving me the way I deserve. And maybe he’s right.”

It’s quiet for a while, as your friends take in your words since you rarely ever talk about the man unless you’re in an inebriated state or recovering from it. But it’s the first time that the possibility of seeing him looms over you, knowing that within those 2 months, you’re bound to run into him somehow. 

Now it’s too quiet, and you realize that none of you know what to say since you’re all sober. Truth be told, you don’t remember anything that Jimin’s ever told you during those times that you opened up, and Jin never really said much, knowing how hard that breakup hit you. And Taehyung, well… the man was there before, during, and after it all, yet he never really said much, always choosing to let the silence engulf both of you.

“Look, I’m touched you all seem to be worried,” you finally speak up. “But I’m going to be fine. I found a house I’m renting that’s nice and private. I’m actually excited to eat at my favorite restaurants and visit places I’ve missed. I can’t do anything about my family but at least Tae will be with me the whole time and save me from their madness if he needs to. And Yoongi, well… he’s a closed chapter in my book. There’s no reason to revisit that. Hi, goodbye - that’ll be it, just like before.”

You sigh to yourself, hoping that your friends would take your word for it, though you don’t really blame them if they don’t. They’ve seen you barely bat an eye after calling it quits with your exes but they’ve heard of how broken you were because of that breakup; seeing Yoongi again might just bring up old memories that you might not be ready for. And they won’t all be there to lift you up like they’d want to. 

“Okay then, if you say so,” Jin finally smiles. “But if something comes up… you know I can always drive there and bring you back here.”

“And add to the already existing rumors about us being a thing?” You laugh, referring to all the social media fodder about your chemistry that’s too good, it might be real. 

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

“Does the Kim Seokjin not care about dating rumors?” You gasp. “You always complained about it. Don’t tell me you like me.”

Jin sits next to you and cups your face in his hands. “I… love you. The way a dear friend who dreamed with you and who gets to live that out with you does. We all love you. We’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you say, humming once he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, just like all the times he’d done before - when you graduated university, when you didn’t get callbacks, and when you landed your first major role. “Thank you.”

You decide to head out after a long evening. Jimin lists your activities for the next day before he’s dropped off at his apartment. Taehyung lets you listen to his new single for his upcoming album, and you get emotional over his soulful sound and the fact that he gets to live out his dream with you, too.

He walks you to your front door and hugs you tightly, just like all the times he’d done before - when you cried about your family, when Yoongi broke up with you, and when you found out he was dating someone new. 

“I love you, okay?” Your best friend whispers. 

He says it in that soft, comforting voice of his. The one that always told you that things were gonna be fine, as if love solves all things, and at one point, you believed it did. 

Your hometown of Daegu looks very different from the last time you were really here. It changed a lot. And it changed pretty quickly. 

But some things about it stay the same - family-run restaurants, streets lined with little shops passed down from generations, the parks and the temples, the playground in your old neighborhood with the basketball court that you know all too well.

They make the place home, Mrs. Kim says. That doesn’t change no matter how far or how long you’ve been away. 

You want to disagree. This place was never home. It felt like bits of it during the times you used to watch ballet performances at the Opera House with your mom or when your dad used to grill makchang on Friday nights. 

But when she decided to leave and then he remarried, you had just memories of home left. Your sisters’ resentment over your happiness for your mother as she achieved her dreams took all that was remaining, and coming here reminds you more than what you lost; it reminds you of what you can never have - that space to dream, the place of safety, the love that would endure time and distance. 

You enjoy the best short ribs dish over Mr. Kim’s recordings of his saxophone performances. Mrs. Kim dotes on you like her own daughter, and Taehyung announces all the things you’ll be doing now that you’re both back home, taking your respective breaks that you deserve, and spending the money that you worked hard for. 

You eventually leave for some rest. The house you’re staying at is far from the buzz of the city. It’s private and secure, a little too spacious for one, and boasts of the views of the mountains. Jimin had found it, knowing you’d need the peace and quiet amidst all that would be taking place during your short time here. 

Taehyung will be staying over at his parents’ place, but they insist that it’s open for you to visit anytime you want. You think you need the time for yourself, though. Your job often requires you to be around people, and you’re thankful for the choice you have now to be away from them. For some time, at least.

[From: Manager Jung] Are you settled? I’ve got a script for you to go through. Sending it now 

Your agent-slash-manager’s message disrupts your moment of tranquility as you sit out at the garden, watching the sun set. You’d arrived from Seoul in time for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at Taehyung’s parents’ house before heading to yours. 

[To: Manager Jung] Yeah, all good. But give me a week until I read the script. Don’t want to think much about work yet 

[From: Manager Jung] Fine. Just don’t take too long 

You sigh, knowing that though you promised Jin and Jimin that you won’t be thinking about work while you’re here - you need a break from it all, they told you - your manager won’t really let you. And much as you want to complain about him pushing you real hard, you’re thankful that Jung Hoseok always does. 

He was the one who saw your talent and insisted you’ve got a bright future after one casting call that you were almost late for. He was strategic in which roles to pitch you for as a rookie actor, and which ones would get you ahead of the game, no matter how challenging it was. During the times you wondered if you were meant for this industry, he always assured you that you were. There was always going to be a bigger break after the last, he believed, and he promised you he’d go searching for that role until you got the biggest break of your career. 

And every time you think he’ll cross the line of pressuring you too much, he says something sweet, brotherly, friendly. 

[From: Manager Jung] But take care of yourself there, ok? Don’t let them talk down on you. Don’t let them crush your dreams 

You’d cry if his words came with a hug.

[From: Manager Jung] And guard your heart. Don’t let him hurt you again 

You pretend he means your father; he let your sisters’ resentment of you go on after all, and his inaction made you feel unloved in your own home. 

You don’t want to think that Hoseok means someone else because it would mean that for all the times you questioned if everything you gave up to chase your dream was worth it, then he knew it was because of the man who broke your heart 6 years ago. You don’t want to think that all these years, Hoseok knew that your buzz-worthy dating life, whose aftermath he always had to manage, was just your futile attempt at getting over the first and only man you ever loved. 

Being in any sports facility unsettles you. You always claim that the buzz of sporting events just isn’t your cup of tea - you prefer the noise of a film or television set, or of a theater right before the movie starts. It wasn’t always like that, of course. You used to enjoy the screams and heckles of sports fans; you used to be one of them. 

But you found out the hard way that losing someone means you lose the parts of you that you’d adopted because of them, that you fall out of love with the things you used to love because of them.

Basketball is one of those things. It’s why Taehyung used to not invite you whenever there were Thunders games at Jamsil despite the free tickets always available for you; he knew you’d say no and he hates rejection. 

But Mr. Song is a man you can’t say no to. Not only is he the city’s mayor, he’s also a good friend of your father’s, which is how the chief official got wind of your return. 

Your trip isn’t meant to be publicized. Actors take breaks and visit their hometowns regularly without attracting the media, and oftentimes, that’s thanks to the local government, who employs their political will and own security to ensure that celebrities aren’t disturbed while they’re on vacation or just visiting family. It’s good for them, of course, but it also sometimes comes with small favors, like a private dinner with some of their close friends and some photos or autographs. You don’t really mind, especially since the same is extended to Taehyung, hence why the lunch earlier at the mayor’s residence wasn’t all that bad. It was only slightly awkward with your father because you chose to meet up with Taehyung’s family first before yours, but your dad didn’t dwell on it. 

Other than privacy, one other thing you get are free courtside Korean Basketball League tickets. The Pegasus just recently moved to Daegu from Incheon and there’d been a lot of promotion to get the city to give their full support to their new hometown team. Mr. Song thinks that photos of you and Taehyung attending the game will be the publicity that the team needs, and while your best friend genuinely agrees to the arrangement, you only do so half-heartedly. You’ll at least see your friends who are playing for the other team, but even the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon being back home and the party they’ll throw after is making you even more unsettled. 

“Hmm, number 16 was pretty cute,” you whisper to Taehyung as you head out of the locker room after some photos with the home team. “I wonder if he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“No, he won’t,” your best friend responds. 

“Why not? Because he’s from the other team? I’m sure that Jungkook won’t mind, right? I mean, yeah it’s his house but—”

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

“We didn’t even go to their university,” you point out, given that you and Taehyung studied in Seoul and had met there, instantly clicking after finding out you both hailed from the same city. “Why are we going?”

“We are honorary members,” he replies. “I went to high school with them and you…” he trails, trying to figure out how to phrase how you became an honorary member of their group of friends without bringing him up. 

“Are the ex of one of their friends,” you finish for him. “You can say it, you know?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He arches a brow.

“Yes. I don’t deny the fact that Yoongi and I dated.”

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

“You mistake my amazing ability of moving on for denial,” you groan. “But oh shit. Wait. Does this mean that he’ll be there at the party?”

Taehyung huffs as he settles in his seat and looks at your worried eyes. “For someone who doesn’t seem to be in denial, you sure look a bit anxious that he might be there tonight. Didn’t you say you can be civil with your exes?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply defensively. “I don’t know about him. But then again, he moved on first, so I doubt seeing me would affect him much.”

Your best friend lets out a breath, not wanting to argue. He’s learned long ago that when it comes to Yoongi, you’re dead set on many things - like the narrative that he moved on first, that he was so much happier without you, that dreams were always more important for him, whether it was yours or his. Taehyung tried to help you process that whole experience, especially the aftermath, as you went on dating one man after another after you found out about Yoongi dating some local musician. 

But you always had a default answer, that you’ve always been that way - quick to fall in love and quick to fall out of it, and Yoongi was no exception. You met, fell in love, and while you technically didn’t fall out of love, the breakup left you no choice but to do just that; he was the one who insisted that you leave, after all, and you’d been the one too heartbroken that he didn’t love you enough to make you stay.

“Well then let’s just see what happens,” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ve got a game to watch, a party to go to, and friends to catch up with.”

“And a nice, peaceful home to retire to after tonight. I’ll need all the good energy before I see the rest of my family tomorrow,” you sigh.

Right, there’s that, Taehyung frowns. Your family’s too complicated that you insist you don’t want him to get sucked into the drama, hence why you don’t want him to go with you. But between that and the possibility of seeing your ex, he could only hope that during this trip, you won’t get your heart broken too early, too quickly, or too hard.

“How is it that the Pegasus have been playing here for months but it’s the first time we’re watching their game live?” Geumjae asks incredulously as he sips his beer. 

“Because it’s the first home game of the season against the Thunders when I’m home and when Jungkook and Namjoon don’t have girlfriends to give their tickets to,” Yoongi explains to his older brother. “And well, I never asked before.”

“Well, good on us that you’re here and your friends currently don’t have girlfriends,” Geumjae laughs. “Also, you could totally ask. They’re your friends; I don’t think it would be that hard for them to get extra seats for us.”

“I’m not their only friend here. I’m sure a bunch of the guys from college would ask,” Yoongi shrugs. 

“You’re not just their friend, Yoon,” his brother groans. “You played with them, you captained them, and led them to college championships.”

“Yeah, yet I’m the one hustling it out as a college coach while they’re playing pro,” the younger man huffs. 

He doesn’t mean to be bitter. He loves those guys, hustled it out with them until the late evenings just to get the proper training and workout in almost a decade ago. He couldn't be any prouder when Jungkook and Namjoon got drafted to professional teams and then reunited as teammates with the Seoul Samsung Thunders just 2 years ago. Yoongi had been the encouraging senior who messaged them right away, happy for his peers for being together again just like old times. He won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a bit to be left out from the life they all dreamed of having, with him being the only one who didn’t get to achieve it alongside them. 

“Well, if it matters at all, you’re doing amazing,” Geumjae tries to cheer his brother up. “I read online that many are calling your team to win it all this year. Imagine being the only person in your school’s history to be a champion player and coach? Not just anyone can say that.”

Yoongi hums, trying to let the thought comfort him. It doesn’t do much; coaching a college basketball team is leagues away from playing professionally. The energy is different, so is the hustle. Shooting hoops with the kids during training isn’t the same. The lights and the cheers as he sits on the bench calling plays isn’t the same either. He can at least say that with coaching, he’s able to shape and mentor the young ones, direct them to better paths, encourage them to reach their dreams, and to not settle for a life they’re not happy with or proud of. He’s got a bunch of players who got drafted last year and dedicated their first professional game to him, and that’s an indescribable feeling he’ll always hold onto. It reminds him that even if it wasn’t him, it was at least someone he cared about. 

He watches as the players do their warmups on court before the start of the game. This isn’t the first time he’s watched live, but it’s the first time with Jungkook and Namjoon as teammates, so seeing them goof around and do the handshake that they used to do warms his heart a little. Maybe it’s this bit of joy that he needs to remind him that it’s okay, that even if life turned out differently for him, at least basketball is still part of his life. There’s more he wants, of course, but this is way better than nothing. He reminds himself at one point, he didn’t think he could ever set foot on a basketball court again.

The game finally starts and though he’s usually quiet whenever he watches games, he can’t help the small small cheer he makes whenever Jungkook or Namjoon scores or makes crucial plays. He still knows their moves, can still read Jungkook’s pump-fake, and can still tell by Namjoon’s stance if he’s gonna make that rare three. Though he was a shooting guard during his glory days, Yoongi still prides himself in his playmaking skills and knowing his teammates well, something that scouts used to rave about. 

Yoongi sips his beer, no doubt enjoying the exciting match. He obviously wants the Thunders to win, but the Pegasus aren’t backing down, not letting themselves trail by more than 8 points. He’s in a bit of a trance, as he lets himself drown in the cheers of the crowd, imagining that it’s him leaving it all out on the court. 

But as he looks up on the big screen during timeout, he feels like the air is being sucked out of him. His ears don’t betray them either, as the announcer calls on your name and Taehyung’s - “celebrity sightings,” he says, while you and your best friend wave to the camera and smile like the superstars that you both are. The cheers get louder and Geumjae joins them until he realizes.

“Shit, that’s your ex-girlfriend,” he whisper-shouts. He laughs at the scene of his brother practically choking on his drink. “Wow, she still has that effect on you, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, desperately forcing his heart to slow its beating. 

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her whereabouts, Geumjae,” he replies, suddenly sounding hard, defensive.

“Do you think she’s gonna be at the party?”

Fuck, the party, Yoongi slightly panics. Jungkook talked about the sort of reunion he’s throwing at his house after the game. Their old teammates will be there, as well as some other friends from college who are still in the city. You and Taehyung were honorary members of that group and Yoongi knows that you’re both invited, too.

“I guess,” he merely shrugs, looking like it doesn’t bother him much. 

It shouldn’t. It’s been 6 years, and while he’d been the one to break it off, you’re the one who’s dated a lot since then, something he can’t fault you for. You’d obviously catch a lot of attention - you did catch his - not just for your charm and unbelievable beauty but for your talent as well. He’s not surprised that you’re rumored to be dating Kim Seokjin, said to be this decade’s most desired leading man and who also happens to be your good friend, the one who’d helped you out a lot during your years in university. Yoongi used to be a little jealous then, something he never told you, and well, he guesses it’s meant to be with you and Seokjin now, a man he could probably never live up to. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Geumjae breaks through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Why won’t I be?” Yoongi huffs, sinking back to his seat to watch the game that suddenly isn’t so interesting anymore. 

His question is left unanswered and his brother resumes his cheers, no doubt invested in this match that’s now tied. But Yoongi drifts in and out, his eyes following the players up and down the court then mindlessly landing on you. You’re seated in a relaxed manner, the opposite to how you used to watch his games. He sees you silently cheer for the Thunders, too, and you giggle at Taehyung when you scream louder than you intended, your hand covering your mouth as you lean on your friend and he laughs along. 

He could hear the sound of your laughter from across the gymnasium, as if the way the dulcet tone of your voice used to send shivers down his spine whenever you giggled in his ears was just yesterday. He shakes off the goosebumps he feels and tries to sit comfortably on the chair.

“Are you nervous?” Geumjae asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Since when was I ever loud during a basketball game?” He shoots his brother an incredulous look. 

“You may not make a sound but your body does,” the older man points out. “I could feel you buzzing earlier and cheering in that Yoongi way of yours but now,” he eyes him up and down, “your legs are just bouncing. And you're biting your nails again.”

Yoongi catches himself. He forces his leg to be still and tucks his hand under it. It’s a tell he has, and he has no doubt that his brother has caught on. Still, he lies. “The game’s close. I want the Thunders to win.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes, now can we just focus on the game?” Yoongi chides, not wanting to confirm whatever his brother’s suspicions are. 

“Fine, but for the record, I know exactly why you’re nervous.”

“I don’t really care.”

Geumjae sighs as he watches his brother’s gaze go to you once more, unknowingly, perhaps, as Yoongi seems to shake himself off after every time he realizes that his eyes were locked on your direction. But he can’t blame the younger man. You entered his life and he fell, extremely hard, and letting you go was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. Yoongi doesn’t need to tell him though, but there’s enough of his younger brother’s broken pieces lying around for Geumjae to know that it was also something he regretted doing, and he wishes his brother was at least brave enough to admit all that.

The Thunders win by 5 points. It was nail-biting until the very end. It was Namjoon’s crucial offensive rebound and Jungkook’s 3-point shot that sealed the game for them, and Yoongi was present enough to witness those last few plays. He decides to enjoy this moment with his friends, knowing they’d be asking him about it later. If he’ll still go to the party. Somehow, seeing you again made him a little dizzy. It was still on the screen, but now he’s not sure he’ll know what to do when he sees you in person. 

He and his brother let the crowds go before heading out separately. Geumjae’s car is parked elsewhere, and Yoongi decides to head to the washroom and pace his walk to the parking lot. Hands on his pockets and eyes glued to the floor, he hears a gasp, and he releases one himself when he sees you, hiding behind one of the vending machines as a group of fans at the end of the hallways starts walking towards your direction, wondering aloud where you went. 

He sees the panicked look in your eyes and decides to stop the crowd before they come any closer. 

“She headed that way,” he announces, pointing to the right. “There’s an exit there. She probably left already.”

You hear the disappointed sighs, and much as you don’t want to let your fans down - you’re not one to deny them autographs - there have been too many of them this afternoon and you weren’t mentally prepared to accommodate each one of them. The footsteps disappear not long after and you let out a sigh of relief. That was close, but you didn’t expect Yoongi, of all people, to be the one to stir them away.

You turn to him, about to say your thanks, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat. You recall being a giddy mess the very first time you saw him, with nibbled lips and palpitating heart as you watched him shoot baskets and dribble the ball like no one’s business, and you’d been a goner since then. But he was a lot thinner during that time. His hair was cut short and his eyes had this sharp, confident gaze that usually intimidated people. You eventually saw how they softened only for you, though, but you’ll always remember that summer and how he had you wanting him at first glance. 

This man before you isn’t all that different. He still has the same sharp eyes, with his look penetrating right through your soul like he knows you and well, he does, which is also why he was quick to misdirect the crowd after he perhaps saw the look of worry on your face. His tiny nose is the same, so is his pale skin. But his hair is now long, pushed back in the middle as it softly reaches close to his shoulders. He’s a lot leaner; you can easily tell from what’s hiding behind his thin white shirt underneath his blue jacket. You recall him dressing mostly in monotone colors, so seeing him in something a little more striking is new. He’s gorgeous just like before, and you don’t really know why you expected that he wouldn’t render you speechless this time around.

“___,” he calls out. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, uh…” you stutter, hating yourself for suddenly being nervous. “There were just too many of them and they were getting quite close, I kind of panicked. Stupid, really. I should be used to it by now. More of them came and I just…”

“If they were invading your personal space then that’s not right,” he says, his tone so serious you mistake it for worry. “Did they touch you or anything?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that. I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” He asks, as you watch him walk to the vending machine where you’re hiding, tap his card, and then get the bottled water that falls out. He opens it and hands it to you as if he’d done this so many times before, and well, he actually has.

“He met up with a couple of friends,” you explain. “The crowd got to me right after and I kinda lost him, but I told him I’ll meet him outside, somewhere near where the players come out.”

“Hmm, okay,” Yoongi hums, looking away. 

He should’ve expected you to look way more beautiful up close but he tends to underestimate his ability to be entranced by you. He’s surprised he even got any word out, but the worry crept in the moment he saw you look a little winded and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’re a celebrity, after all, and the city’s “Princess,” as they claim. 

You look a little nervous though, and a part of him just wants to scold Taehyung for leaving you behind, seeing as neither of you looked like you had security with you earlier. But that shouldn’t be his responsibility anymore, he reminds himself. 

“Thanks for the water, by the way,” you speak up. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again,” you smile shyly. “So, uhm, do you know where the other exit is? I’m kind of lost.”

“Oh, uh… the one close to where the players go out is there,” he cocks his head to the left, towards a hallway behind swinging doors. “I can uh, I can show you where.”

“Ah, that would be great. Did you park close there, too?”

No.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Let’s go before more people see you.”

He opens the door and walks after you. It doesn’t help that the hallway suddenly feels much smaller and closed off because now, Yoongi has to listen to your footsteps and nothing else, since neither one of you chooses to talk. 

What does he say to the woman he broke up with 6 years ago? Maybe he can say something about your recently concluded series. He thought it was really good. Is it weird to ask what your next project is? Perhaps. You probably can’t even tell him. How was it like being the leading lady this time? Fuck, he’s not a talk show host or anything like that. 

He sees the end of the hallway before his mind can come up with another stupid question, and he rushes to the door before you do, catching you by surprise. 

“Just wanted to make sure there’s no one to bother you,” he explains, as you exit the building with questioning eyes. 

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again. 

He’s not used to it. He remembers the way your eyes used to gaze at him constantly, how your smile and laughter were all cheeky and flirty, how the tone of your voice was always so confident, so charming. He thinks that maybe like him, you’re just as surprised and unsure about seeing each other after so long. He doesn’t know what to make of things beyond that.

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” he asks, needing to prepare himself if, as a last resort, he’d need to drive you somewhere.

“Yeah, Tae and I were supposed to ride together but,” you pause, checking your phone for your best friend’s text message, “he rode off with his friends and said he’d meet me at Jungkook’s instead so I’m just waiting for the guys. There’s the—”

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

“___!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts you off. He jogs up to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, unaware of the man in front of you who’s being blocked by a wall. “You ready to go? Tae said he went ahead.”

Yoongi makes his presence known with a low grunt, his eyes pacing from his friend to you. You both look a lot closer than he remembers, and Yoongi’s mind goes to that first time you all met, how Jungkook had announced during their team celebration that the “girl with the yellow scarf on her hair is so pretty” and that he’d wanted to ask you out. Of course, things turned out differently - you weren’t interested in the younger man. But that was years ago. Jungkook has had an impressive professional career and he lives in Seoul. Maybe things have changed for you.

You follow Yoongi’s eyes. Despite many people claiming that he’s difficult to read because of the default unconcerned, almost detached look he has for every situation, you think he’s actually pretty transparent. 

Or maybe that’s just you. You’ve spent enough time with him to know his sound of annoyance and the meaning of his body language. You’ve memorized that pretty face of his at one point that you can tell the slightest parting of his lips and the tiniest drop of his eyes, which could mean that he’s confused, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

“Oh, we’re not…” you exclaim, surprising yourself, to the amusement of Namjoon, who suddenly appears next to you. “I mean, Jungkook and I aren’t… a thing.”

You promptly remove the man’s arm from your shoulder and try to decipher Yoongi’s look now. Is it relief? Does he believe you? Does he think it’s silly that you had to clarify that, which you’re wondering why you did?

“Okay,” Yoongi says. 

Perhaps you’re wrong. You can’t tell right now what he’s feeling.

“We just… got to hanging out when I got drafted by the Thunders,” Jungkook now clarifies, which he quickly realizes is maybe making this awkward situation a lot worse. 

You’re Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend after all, and Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you when he moved to Seoul, but not once did he try to pursue you all these years. He respects his captain too much and cares for what you both had, which is why he maintained his friendship with you even after the breakup.  

“That’s nice to know,” Yoongi replies, his tone nonchalant like always.

He’s glad he can keep his cool that well, even if his heart was just about to explode at the thought of you possibly dating his friend. He doesn’t know why he cares, though, as he never really thought much about the so-called code that stated that exes were off-limits to friends. 

He’s just about to turn around when Namjoon calls out. “Min, you’re still going to the party, right?”

Yoongi looks at you, who promptly looks away. Up until 10 minutes ago, he was about 80% sure he would. He didn’t think that being in close proximity to you would make him remember all sorts of things, and that itself is enough for him to run for the hills and avoid you. He won’t claim he did his best to forget about you - he at least tried, and that still counts - but he didn’t expect he’d ever get a chance to be near you, much less talk to you and be in the same place as you. Again. 

But he looks at his friends’ eyes, both pairs unsure yet practically begging him to still go. He remembers these looks, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t want to let both of them down that he battles with the inner part of himself and decides to still go. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with somehow finding out for how long you’re staying, and why you’re here in the first place. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys there,” he replies, turning around now and heading towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot. 

You watch Yoongi walk away, unsure of why your heart is beating as fast as it is. It had been like that since you saw him after hiding from the fans, and even more so when you walked silently in the hallway to head outside. 

You knew you were gonna see him, maybe even at the party, but not in the way you did. And all your confidence at not being bothered or affected with seeing him again melts away. 

You weren’t prepared for how good he’d look, for how concerned he’d be over your safety, and for that hint of disappointment on his face at the thought of you being with Jungkook. Neither were you prepared for that incredibly tiny part of you that wants to know how he’s doing and if he’d managed to piece together the broken parts of himself and his dream that he so adamantly chose over you.

You survive the car ride by glaring at Namjoon every time he starts teasing you about panicking over Yoongi thinking that you were dating Jungkook, while the latter curses as he drives, claiming he survived one of the scariest moments of his life. 

You arrive in Jungkook’s house in half an hour, a nice place he bought for himself because he said that Daegu will always be home for him. The sliding doors to the patio give it a spacious feel, and you see that a couple of his friends had already prepped the space, complete with beer kegs and beer pong tables, the way you remember they always used to party.      

The 3 of you spot Taehyung who greets you, and the 2 men next to you proceed to narrate what happened, to your best friend’s shock and amusement. You also fill all of them in with the first part of the story about Yoongi finding you as you hid away from the crowd.

“How… symbolic,” Namjoon hums. “You meet at a basketball court in Daegu after a game while you were hiding from fans because you’re such a bigtime actress now. I mean, it’s quite ironic. The universe is out to tease you or something.”

You agree, it is. It’s times like this when you wish you didn’t believe in fate and destiny because doing so would just give you false hope that you and Yoongi may be meant for more than just those 2 years together. And you absolutely hate it because you can’t fall into that trap of thinking that you’re meant for a happy ending that includes him. That ship sailed a long time ago - 6 years and about 5 partners later.

But as Yoongi enters the house, his bowed head turning up to search the area before daintily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you start to think that maybe that ship decided to turn back around and sail towards you once again. He briefly meets your eyes before someone calls out to him, and you’re left to admire him from afar, cute button nose and impeccable side profile and all. 

Taehyung pulls you by the arm and whispers in your ear. “Okay, so what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, our plan?” You ask, realizing you’ve lost Yoongi as you glance in the direction of where he was, no longer finding him there. “Plan for what?”

“Yoongi, obviously,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Do we avoid him, be civil, pretend you don’t think about him anymore, or act like the past 8 years didn’t happen and we don’t actually know him?”

“None of the above,” you groan. “What kinds of options are those?”

“Decent ones?”

“Nope. You’ve already had a lot to drink and I don’t trust you when you’re drunk.”

“Except you should. This is when I don’t hold back when it comes to you,” Taehyung answers.

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown. 

“Just when it’s about him. It was tough for a long time. I know sometimes it still is.”

You don’t have the heart to disagree. This man has been your best friend for a decade and he knows how you are, knows which pains of yours you’re willing to talk about and which ones you’d rather hide away. Your acting skills may be good but you know that Taehyung can see behind all the smiles and the detachment and the effort to look okay, and whatever it is he’s thinking, there’s a good chance he might be right. You’ve just never been brave enough to admit them. 

The look of understanding you both share gets disrupted when cheers erupt in the middle of the living room, seeing that Seungkwan had just beaten Jungkook in beer pong. The pro player demands a rematch and the entire house cheers in agreement. Jungkook takes the next game but Seungkwan won’t back down. 

“Let’s do it in pairs,” he challenges. “I take Joon.”

“Fine,” Jungkook says, his game face on, knowing there’s one other person he knows could win this with him. “I take the Captain.”

Cheers erupt once more as people push Yoongi to the center where the rest of the guys are. He shakes his head, seemingly uninterested in partaking in tonight’s festivities but goes anyway after much coaxing from everyone. He then does his handshake with Jungkook to the younger man’s insistence, and you watch Yoongi’s soft, shy smile appear. 

And just like the very first time you saw that, you feel your heart thrum in excitement. There was always something special about it, and back then it was because he rarely did it, but he did it a lot when he was with you. It’s nice to see it during a moment like this - surrounded by his old friends while having fun with them. You’re glad he shows more of it now, and you wonder how many people fell harder for him because of it. 

You watch from the sideline as the Jungkook-Yoongi pair score 4 straight. Seungkwan complains that Namjoon isn’t making any shots, prompting the older man to claim that he’s way better at dunking than shooting tiny balls like they’re jumpers. They eventually lose after all the theatrics but it’s enough to get the guests going, as you find yourself teasing both men as well. 

You remember their house parties being this rowdy and this loud, given all the energy and testosterone that these athletes had so much of. That obviously hasn’t changed, and despite all of them having grown up, looking all mature and much more respectable, the naughtiness remains, especially once they’ve had too much to drink. 

It’s why you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of the guys, asking for a photo with you to show off to their friends and families. 

“I’m showing this to the guys at the office,” Seungkwan announces as he gets your approval over the selfie picture he took of you both. “They’re not gonna believe I went to college with an actress.”

“Uh, I didn’t go to college with you,” you laugh along with the others. “I studied in Seoul.”

“Then how the fuck do we know you?” He exclaims, no doubt drunk out of his mind at this point. You remember him having a short-term memory every time.

“He’s the Captain’s ex, dumbo!” Soon-young reminds him, another one of the younger guys who hasn’t drank as much but was never good at knowing what not to say. “Remember the summer before his final year? She was with us all the time.”

“Oh right. They were inseparable and looked so in love,” Seungkwan giggles, and at this point, the rest of the people just go with what he’s saying. 

Not you though, neither does Yoongi, and neither does Namjoon, who slaps the back of Seungkwan’s head to loud-whisper that the ex-couple in question is right there.

“Shit, did they hear me?” Seungkwan wonders out loud and looks around before sipping his beer. “I meant it though.”

He laughs drunkenly, so do many others. There’s really only a handful of you who aren’t intoxicated, but right now you wish you were. 

“Wait, they’re both here?” Seungkwan recovers, eyes now glassy. 

He gasps when his gaze turns to you and then Yoongi, and he puts his arm over your shoulder and slightly drags you to the right so he could put his arm over Yoongi, too.

“I found them!” Seungkwan squeals, pushing both of you to face him. “Shit, you still look good together.”

“Alright, dude, that’s enough,” Namjoon finally steps in, pulling the inebriated man away. “Sorry,” he turns to you. “Don’t mind anything he said.”

Too late, you want to say, but you release an awkward laugh instead. 

“They haven’t changed since college, huh,” Yoongi says, surprising you. “They still put us on the spot then leave us to deal with the aftermath,” he continues, watching as the group disperses to go drink and chat again. 

You turn towards him and sigh in relief over the small smile he has on. You swear the tension was so thick earlier that you could cut it with a knife, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered. He looks calm like he always does, and just like those first few times, you take your cue from him. You try to release the tension from your body and smile. 

“They should be banned from drinking when there are ex-lovers in the building,” you chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll be apologizing to you like crazy once he’s sober. Wish I could see that.”

“I can’t wait for that, too,” Yoongi hums. 

A wave of silence envelopes you both. The sounds of your friends seem like white noise now, and with the background music on and the man next to you just sipping his drink, it’s oddly comforting. 

You learned long ago that he has this amazing ability to do that - make people around them feel calm. There’s something so reassuring about him that remarks about your past don’t faze him, and now that’s rubbing off on you, as you feel the awkwardness slowly melt away.

You and Yoongi stand by the couch while the world around you continues. You’d stay in this bubble with him if it wasn’t so familiar, only because the familiarity scares you a little. You don’t want to know if anything else feels the same.

“I’m gonna look for Tae,” you say, breaking the silence. 

You only need to look to your left at the sound of someone hooting to find your best friend downing another cup of some concoction, and by the sound of his laugh, you know this is the one that will do it for him. This is his point of no return. Anything he does after is not meant for many people to see; he has an image to protect, after all.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” you say, walking towards him. 

You cup Taehyung’s face in your hands and tell him that the party’s over and you’ll take him home. He argues, but you remind him that he’s a celebrity and that he can’t have drunk pictures of him circulating online. His inebriated mind sort of gets it, and you take him in your arms and start looking around, trying to see which of the guys are the most stable one to drive.

“How are you going home?”

“Uh…” you turn to face Yoongi. “One of… them? Jungkook, Wooz, Soon-young all offered.”

“And they’ve all had a lot to drink,” he replies.

“Who here hasn’t?” You chuckle, eyes still searching the room. You don’t want to ask your safest option, which is the man in front of you. You’re not quite sure how your heart can handle that. 

“Me,” he says so casually. “I just had one bottle.” 

You know what he means, even more when he goes to Taehyung’s side to help you assist your drunk best friend. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else though; he just stands there while waiting for your reply. This is about safety, you remind yourself, and it has nothing to do with suddenly wanting to be in his presence just a little longer.

“Okay,” you reply, knowing he knows what you mean, too.

“Okay.”

All three of you say goodbye to your friends, all of whom give you smug looks, passing up on the teasing now given Yoongi’s displeased face after someone remarks that “mom and dad are taking care of their kid again.” This isn’t a new scene for them, either. Taehyung just tends to have a lot of genuine fun when he’s with his friends; it’s something you relate with after being in the industry you’re in.

You and Yoongi help Taehyung in the backseat where you sit, with your best friend’s head securely on your lap because he’s now complaining of a migraine. Your designated driver starts the car shortly after he checks on both of you. 

“Neither of you took your cars?” He asks.

“Tae did but passed up on driving tonight,” you say. “I would’ve driven, had I known he won’t be able to control himself. I’m still waiting for my requested rental car.”

Yoongi merely hums and focuses on the road while you… well, while you sort of focus on him. Your position behind the passenger seat allows you a view from the side - from how his fingers drum the steering wheel to how he nibbles his lips. His eyes are focused on the road but you can tell he’s focused on both of you, too, with the way he turns to the back whenever Taehyung makes some garbled sound or just to ask you if you’re okay. 

You watched him do this so many times before with you next to him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek at every stoplight. For someone who loves music, he never put the radio on when he drove you. He said it allowed him to focus on you, and that memory isn’t one that you really want to think of right now, especially since it’s silent in the car. You don’t know which ones you’d rather remember, though - the good ones or the bad. You suppose either would hurt regardless, and this wasn’t something that you prepared for. 

You make it to your best friend’s house as you and Yoongi assist him to the gate to Mrs. Kim’s shock. She scolds a barely-awake Taehyung and apologizes profusely to Yoongi, who says she’s happy to see him in their home once again. As Mr. Kim takes his son up to his room, Yoongi turns to you and asks if you need a ride home.

“I’m sleeping over,” you say in a panic. “Someone’s got to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, briefly meeting your eyes before nodding towards his car. “I’ll go ahead. It was nice seeing you again, ___.”

They’re simple words that any old friend would tell another after seeing them in years, but somehow they hit you differently. This entire evening hasn’t been a dream or some made up scenario in your head where you meet the man you loved after so long. 

He’s here. With you. Looking at you in a way you’re very unfamiliar with - with a calmness in his eyes and a hint of care and acceptance, as if he’s glad you’re here but that he’s well aware of the years between you, of the years that passed by, of the years that changed you both. 

You don’t respond fast enough because before you know it, he’s turning around, ready to head out the door.

“It was nice seeing you, too, Yoongi,” you say softly. 

But he hears it, stops walking for a while, and then opens the door and walks out. 

You wonder if he’d said something the day you left, would you have stopped and turned around? Or would you have kept walking?  

But thinking about that won’t do you any good, so you turn away as well and head upstairs.

Outside, Yoongi steps on the gas, turns to the next corner, and then stops the car. He clasps his hands together so they’d stop shaking, and he lets himself breathe for the first time tonight. He’s kept his cool long enough, but after everything - the party, the teasing, the car ride - he doesn’t think he can hold the emotions in any longer, and he doesn’t even know what they are. 

Longing? Sadness? Regret? Is it the unspeakable feeling of fear at the thought of you dating one of his friends who might actually be good for you? Is it relief at the idea that letting you go was the best thing that he could’ve ever done for you? Is it confusion over wanting so badly to take you in his arms but not wanting to feel your touch, knowing it would remind him of everything he’s tried to forget? 

Yoongi lays his head on the headrest and takes a breath. You’re so beautiful, as if some light shines on you wherever you go. It’s probably the glow you emit; he’s told you that before but you always said he was just teasing. He sees it even more now. 

But it’s also the crinkle of your eyes when you smile that sweet smile of yours that makes things feel familiar, and because of that, uneasy. It’s that honey sound of your voice; he heard it as you laughed during the party and joked around with everyone. It’s that captivating look you have, the one that says you know something but you want to know more; he felt that look when he entered the house and as he drove you earlier. 

He wonders if you saw past him, past his nonchalance and calm demeanor. You were always so good at that - knowing there was more behind his passiveness, knowing how to get a reaction from him, knowing which buttons to push so he’d open up and let you in. 

He doesn’t know if he should be afraid that you still know how to do it, or if he should revel in it because he’s missed you, more than he could ever say and more than he’d ever care to admit. 

But beyond all that, he’s sure that one of his emotions is happiness. Every time you talked about work and being able to watch yourself on screen - he swears he didn’t eavesdrop but that he just happened to be there - there was that excitement that felt like the continuation from when you used to talk about your big dreams with him. 

You got what you wanted and you worked hard to get to where you are and he knows you’re proud of yourself and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Seeing that smile - he knows. Letting you go was the best thing he’s ever done for you.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s hoarse voice forces your eyes off the ceiling onto your side where he’s currently hugging his pillow, messy hair and pouty lips on display. 

“Trying to get some rest after I saved your drunk ass last night,” you bitterly respond. “I got to you before any compromising photos or videos were taken. You’re welcome.”

“Hmm, thanks,” he groans. “But uh, why are you here? Didn’t you say you wanted proper rest in your house before seeing your family today?”

“Right, uh… you see. Yoongi drove us here, and then he asked if I wanted a ride home but I kinda panicked and said I’m sleeping over so… Here I am!” You laugh, unconvincingly. “My rental car’s on the way here. I’ll drive to my house and then go to my dad’s.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb,” he says, sinking into his comforter. You gasp in response. “That was your chance to be alone with him but you didn’t take the offer. We both know you wanted to.”

“Tae, being drunk and not holding anything back doesn’t mean you can just assume things like that,” you respond, sitting up and frowning at him. “I didn’t want to be alone with him, that’s why I’m here!”

“Why didn’t you want to be alone with him?” He answers back.

“Uhm, why would I want to?” You ask incredulously. “Since when was getting in a car alone with an ex ever a good idea?”

“Why? You’re afraid you’d kiss him if you did?”

You scowl at your best friend. “I should’ve left you there drunk with possible penis drawings on your face.”

“Just being honest. It’s not like you’ve never done that with him before,” he shrugs. 

“I hate you.”

“I know. But you’ll love me later on. At least I’m still half asleep.”

You push him awake, the stress heightening now as the previous night plays in your head. 

“Tae! What happened to my hi, goodbye plan?!” You groan. “I was literally just supposed to say hi and then be civil, like, acknowledge his presence but not be affected by it. But then we had some small talk and he drove us home.”

“We all know it was a denial plan,” he huffs. “It was bound to fail.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re being incredibly helpful right now,” you frown again. 

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting now. “You had small talk, he drove you here. How are those affecting you and why are you making it a big deal?”

“I’m not making it a big deal,” you point out. 

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are because that’s how things started before. And you’re afraid that one small misstep will cause you to fall for him all over again, fast and hard, because that’s how you are when it comes to him.”

“You’re hungover and tired so your judgment is impaired,” you say, crossing your arms. “You remember what happened after all that. I’ll be perpetually grateful that you never pushed me to talk about it unless I was drunk and couldn’t remember things but I was heartbroken, Tae. And then I was numb. It took a while before I started to feel again.”

“I know,” he says, taking you in his arms now as he holds you like a baby - a rare occurrence, as this often happens the other way around. “And I can never fault you for it because even if it was like that summer fling that only happened in the movies, I know you loved him, genuinely and intensely, and a love like that stays with you. But he’s got a good life here, ___, and you’ve got an amazing one in Seoul. You just have to remember why it didn’t work out in the first place and make sure you don’t fall into that trap again. Just… acknowledge that. For your sake. And then do what you need to do so you don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Enveloped in his warmth, you take in your best friend’s words. He may still be hungover and may also be confused but his comfort never seizes, and it’s one of the reasons why you love him dearly. 

“So yeah, good on you I guess for not taking that ride with him. Maybe staying away and keeping your distance might be good,” he adds.

Your silence somehow alarms him, so he nudges you. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel like staying away and keeping my distance will let him know that it still affects me. He’ll always know me like that,” you sigh, hugging him tightly for more comfort. “And there’s this part of me that wants to show him that I’m fine, you know?  That even with everything that happened between us, I walked away from it knowing what I deserve, and that’s someone who’ll fight through life with me. He didn’t and that’s on him but he had his reasons, and looking back, maybe he was right. Maybe he had to let me go, and maybe - because I loved him genuinely and intensely - I want to show him that it wasn’t all in vain. And that I’m happy. Even without him.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to him, you know?”

Maybe I want to prove it to myself, you don’t say. There’s a stubbornness in you that doesn’t go away. 

“This isn’t about him, is it?” Taehyung levels his head with you. 

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well. 

You just sigh and fall back in his arms. He doesn’t push you. He just hugs you again until you both fall back in bed and he can comfortably curl his body all over you because it’s Taehyung and he likes to do this. 

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads. 

“You know I also kinda don’t have a choice,” you reply. “It’s a small town and we’re bound to see each other. Jungkook and Namjoon have a game here again in a few weeks and that means another get together.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hum. “Promise me you’ll be by my side whatever happens?”

“Always, you stubborn woman. I’m the one person who’ll never leave you even if you push me away.”

The lunch with your family is how you expect it to go - with your older sisters making some backhanded comments about your fame and how you’ve been “too busy” to even visit, and your father trying to dissolve the tension. He’s at least genuinely curious about how you’ve been, asking if you’re eating well and getting enough rest. Your stepmom raves about your drama series and shares that she cried during the finale.

“Why did he have to go back to his planet?” Garam’s 7-year old asks after your stepmom narrates what happened. 

“His time on earth was up,” you explain. “He finished his mission and he had to leave.”

“But why didn’t he stay if he was happy?” 

“Because he had a responsibility in his home,” you smile. “He wasn’t made for this world.”

“He didn’t have a choice, sweetie,” Garam adds after her daughter comments that it was sad. “That’s understandable. Some people leave because they’re no longer happy with those around them. Or because their dreams are more important than those they supposedly love. Isn’t that sadder?”

“It is. Don’t leave me, Mama,” the little one pouts.

“Oh sweetie, I never will. I don’t leave people that I love,” Garam responds, glancing at you to make a statement. 

You zone out after that, not wanting to engage with your sisters anymore. You play with their kids, though, who get excited when they see you on TV. You don’t want to treat them like you hold a grudge against them even if you do so with their mothers. Your sisters continue to do that with you - resent you when it’s your mom they’re really angry at for leaving your already unhappy family after she got her dream job in Paris. You were never angry though but you did sort of follow in her footsteps, and your sisters hated you even more because of that. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Your father asks, the hope in his eyes hurting you. 

Things weren’t going well with your parents for a while, giving your mom more reason to leave, but you always wished that he had done more for you to feel loved in the home that started to become toxic after it fell apart, but you suppose he was just trying to heal his own broken heart after his wife left. It felt like your sisters weren’t going to forgive you when you decided to leave yourself, and he just let you walk away without making sure you knew he still loved you despite your decision. 

He’s moved on now, though, and happy with someone who prioritizes him and his needs. But too much time and distance can pull people apart - you can see them without the desire of being with them. That’s the reality with you and him now and there’s not much you can do about it. 

“No, I’ve got other plans,” you respond, glancing at your sisters who return your look with bitterness. “I’ll see you at grandpa’s tomorrow.”

You drive around for half an hour with no destination in mind. It’s nice to see how much this place has changed and discover which parts of it still feel the same. 

You pass by an antique shop - the antique shop,  a generations-old family-run store that used to be the hub of imported furniture that the townspeople once flocked to. It’s now a speciality store that still sells one-of-a-kind items but it also refurbishes old pieces. You see a poster on the window that’s promoting woodworking workshops. You won’t be surprised to find out whose idea that was.

A man briefly exits, and you stop near the front, wanting to just take it in. He’s got more gray hair now and walks a little slower but he looks just like you remembered - soft crinkled eyes, comforting smile, a look that you know all too well. You decide to enter, as you’re desperate for something - anything - that feels more like home than the one you just came from. 

“May I help you?” The man asks.

“A greeting and a hug would do,” you look up at him and smile.

“___?!” He gasps, walking outside the counter to get closer to you. “Is that really you, my dear?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Min,” you smile, returning the hug that you requested. “Just passing by my favorite antique shop in town. How are you doing?”

“Great! Business is stable and I’ve still got a lot of fight in me to continue,” he chuckles. “How about you? The big city treating you good?”

“It is,” you reply. “I think I’m doing quite okay there.”

“Ah, well it should be treating you amazingly. That’s what you deserve.”

You continue the conversation, with you asking about his latest projects and him, talking about his furniture and wood like his children, pride laced in his voice every time. He asks you about your latest series and if you’ve met his favorite actors and you indulge him. His laughter is music to your ears. You remember spending time here where he worked on his pieces while you talked about your favorite movies.

“Does my son know you’re here?” He asks after a beat of silence. 

“He does. I saw him last night. He looks well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? It took a while but he’s doing much better than before - smiling, joking around, helping me at the shop, talking about basketball again. It’s nice to see.”

The words hit you in ways you didn’t expect. Breaking up with Yoongi was tough to get over. Those last few months had been incredibly hard and so many times you thought that maybe if you’d been more patient, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. 

But you remember how during those last days with him, he’d lost the glimmer in his eyes and the softness of his smile. Not even you could bring those back. His passion for things just dwindled; he stopped wanting more, stopped wanting you, stopped thinking that things could still work out for him after what he suffered through. 

You’d kept in touch with Namjoon and Jungkook at their insistence, and they’d been the one to update you on how Yoongi was doing. Not a lot of details but just general things like the jobs he took and that he was keeping himself busy and that he was trying to get back on the court. It wasn’t with unpleasant stories, though - you learned about his new girlfriend from them, and that he didn’t play basketball for awhile, and that during the toughest days, he considered giving it up altogether. 

You knew he’d done well. You learned that from the guys, too. But hearing it from his father is different; you can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for Mr. Min to see his son start to change from what he used to be. But you know that as the good father that he is, he made sure that Yoongi knew he wasn’t alone. 

“And that’s good to hear,” you say. “Yoongi deserves all the happiness this world can give. I’m glad that he’s found his joy in basketball again it seems. And that he found it here.”

“He has, but I guess something will always be missing. He’s a lot better but he’s not the same. A parent would know, you know? The flame doesn’t shine as bright,” Mr. Min answers, the tinge of sadness in his eyes hurting you a little. 

But you just nod. His words seem to mean more but you don’t want to know what it is. 

“Dad, what did you want me to look at?”

Yoongi’s voice echoes in the shop and you can’t help but turn to him who’s just entered and looks as shocked as his father was earlier. 

You have a soft smile on, and Mr. Min knows not to intervene. 

“Oh, nothing,” he says, thinking that the new wood he acquired could wait. “Just watch over the counter for me while I check something inside, alright Son?”

He doesn’t let the younger man answer and just heads to the back, leaving you and Yoongi alone. He walks closer but keeps his distance. It’s enough for you to appreciate the softness of his face, though. His presence had always been reassuring; you see him twice and you’ve felt more comfort with him than you have in months. You don’t know how he does it, but that shouldn’t surprise you anymore. This isn’t the first time anyway. 

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence. 

“Recovering, but more from his parents giving him shit for drinking too much,” you chuckle. “He got an earful and Mrs. Kim said she won’t let him in the house next time he gets that drunk. He’s doing chores as punishment.”

“Ah, well it’s been a while. It was nice to spend time with everyone again.”

“It was,” you smile now. 

“And you? Are you okay?” He asks, sincerity laced in his low voice.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s the hesitant nod and the way your eyes look at anything but him, and he knows that whatever happened after last night is something you want to forget or seek comfort for. So he asks.

“So what made you come here? To the shop, I mean.”

“I was driving around. It didn’t register to me right away that I was in the area,” you respond. “And this place was always so calming for me, you know? The smell of wood, your dad’s stories…” 

You. 

“So I thought I’d come in”, you continue. “He hasn’t changed. It’s nice to see him.”

Yoongi always wondered what parts of you remained the same and which parts didn’t. 

Perhaps the playfulness tempered a bit. You seem a little more anxious than he remembers, too. There’s this sophistication about you that was always too good for this small town, and he sees that even more now. Your smile is still soft but it isn’t as bright. He won’t deny that it still makes his heart race, though. 

You have a habit of going somewhere familiar to seek comfort. You always looked for it in places, he noticed - in that dingy convenience store near your school, in your town’s secondhand bookstore even if you don’t like reading, in the Opera House where you and your mom used to go to. Yoongi learns now that that hasn’t changed at all. You’re in his dad’s store, a place you always wanted to go to after spending time with your family, and he supposes that’s where you came from.

He doesn’t know if he’s still someone you find comfort in and he doesn’t know if you even want to spend time with him after all these years, but he doesn’t have the heart to just let you walk out of here not knowing if you’re truly okay. 

He hated leaving you alone then when things weren’t good. You didn’t always want to talk but you said once that just hearing him breathing on the other end of the phone or just having his hand over yours made you feel better. He may not be the right person now but he’s still someone, and that’s always better than no one.

You eye the door, ready to leave, but his call of your name prompts you to look back at him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” He asks.

“No, not really,” you reply. 

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

The words are familiar. You hate that you remember everything about it.

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

He chuckles softly and meets your eyes, and somehow a part of you thinks that you shouldn’t do this. But you’re glad he asked in the first place.

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

Series Masterlist

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[obsolescent]

bad idea right?

Pairing: Fuckboy!Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Author’s Note: This wouldn’t leave my head until I got it out!! Giggling, kicking my feet writing this up. I don’t know if I made him fuckboy-ish enough but, lol. This got really nasty then really sappy. Enjoy!

Song: bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo

Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex, squirting, Leon’s cocky ass mouth, trans Leon, no gendered language for reader, edging, orgasm denial, confessed feelings.

Words: 3,258

“Haven't heard from you in a couple of months But I'm out right now, and I'm all fucked up And you're callin' my phone, you're all alone And I'm sensin' some undertone”

Getting trashed with your friends has become a weekly occurrence, going out bar hopping and dancing the night away. It’s the usual Friday night, taking shots in between your horribly inaccurate throws at the dartboard with your darts, sending you and your friends into a laughing fit. After finishing your turn, you ungracefully plop down onto a bar stool, pulling out your phone.

The screen lights up and you’re met with a missed call from your ex, Leon. ‘What does he want?’ Seeing a voicemail was left, you stand up and let your friends know you’re stepping outside for some air. Opening the back door into an alley, the brisk autumn air sending a chill through your body. Clicking on the voicemail, you let it play.

There’s some rustling on his end of the line, “Hey,” He starts, slurring his greeting, “What’re you up to tonight? Settled into my new place…Not too far from those bars you and your friends go to,” He knows? Like he can hear your thoughts, he lets out an airy chuckle, “Come over…Been thinkin’ ‘bout you...Missin’ you. Sent the address.” The recording ends there. Obviously drunk himself, yet that huskiness of his voice that always sent tingles through your being is present. He knows what it does to you, even after everything.

“And I'm right here with all my friends But you're sendin' me your new address And I know we're done, I know we're through But, God, when I look at you”

You bite your lip, contemplating. The way things ended between you two wasn’t that bad…He’s just an asshole! His antics drove you up the wall. The shit he would get into with his friends, that damn mouth on him. But, oh, he was so sweet when he wasn’t being a little shit. Crinkling his beautiful blues, cocking his head, that grin. Whispering the sweetest words in your ear, syrup dripping from his lips. Coating your senses and setting your body aflame.

The way he could work your body…Fuck. You don’t think you’ll ever find someone as good as him. The past couple months have been achingly empty for you, in so many ways. Your body yearning for his touch, it begging, one more time, please just one more. Your teeth bite into your fist, trying to rein in your hormones and your thoughts. You know it’s a losing battle, especially with your inebriated mind. 

“My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts) Like blah-blah-blah (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah) Should probably not I should probably, probably not I should probably, probably not”

Feeling fuzzy, your body warming up at the thought of his hands on you again. ‘He invited you! He wanted to show you his new place, you can’t be rude and turn that down. It’ll be okay, come on! You can just be friends now, there’s no harm in that.’ Your brain jumps through hoops trying to sway your answer. 

“Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, fuck it, it's fine”

You take a deep breath and walk back inside. Your friends are sitting at a table now, munching on appetizers and sipping away. You tell them you aren’t feeling good, that you’re going to go home and go to bed. Wishing you well and to be safe, their sentences blending together. You take your leave and head to the front, pulling out your phone to get a ride to Leon’s new place. It doesn’t take long for the car to show up, and once inside the car pulls away from the sidewalk, heading to your undoing. 

“Now I'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans I know I should stop–but I can't And I told my friends I was asleep But I never said where or in whose sheets”

You don’t let him know you’re coming, in case you change your mind. ‘You won’t,’ Your mind hisses, ‘You need this too bad. It’ll be this one time and you can get it, and him, out of your system,’ Your mind is still persuading you, even as the buildings fly past and the streetlights blur across the window, ever getting closer to him.

The car reaches its destination, you thank the driver and step out to an apartment complex. Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, you give yourself a once over while you make your trek to the second floor. Taking the smallest steps, you finally make it to his door. Deep breath in, exhale, you knock.

“And I pull up to your place, on the second floor And you're standin', smiling at the door And I'm sure I've seen much hotter men But I really can't remember when”

Faint shuffling is heard before the door is opened, and there he is. Propped against the frame, taking up the majority of the space with his broadness. Shirtless, with gray sweats that hang dangerously low on his hips, that crooked smirk is plastered on his face. It soon turns into a grin as his eyes make his way up your body, flushing your entire system with want.

He sighs, cocking his head. His blond fringe falls away from his face. “Knew you’d come.” He steps aside and ushers you in, locking the door behind you while you remove your shoes and put down your belongings. The new place is quite nice, Leon having already unpacked everything, the kitchen and living room looking immaculate. The thing about Leon, is that he may seem like a douche on the outside, acting like he doesn’t care about anything, but he’s quite the perfectionist. What you lo–liked about him, how meticulous he was about things, small stuff that you didn’t think he’d notice.

Which makes it all the more frustrating for you. His outwardly behavior doesn’t make–You snap back from your thoughts when you feel him brush against you from behind, his body’s warmth seeping into your system. “Like it so far?” He whispers, bending down to your ear, his breath disturbing pieces of your hair. This close, he smells faintly of vodka and his signature scent, the fragrance washing over your senses. God, you missed him. 

“My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts) Like blah-blah-blah (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah) Should probably not I should probably, probably not I should probably, probably not”

“Yeah, i-it looks great. You’ve always had an eye for decor,” You get out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. He hums, placing his hands on either of your upper arms. His fingers gripping softly, skin tingling around his palms. “Thanks. Let me give you a tour, yeah? You haven’t seen the best part yet,” He chuckles and steers you into the living room, seeming like he’s actually going to take you throughout the place.

He directs you to stand in front of the couch.

It’s the same one he had at his old apartment. A black leather sofa with solid wood legs, the contrasting colors make it pop. It had always been pretty comfortable, you could see why he wouldn’t get rid of it. “Remember this couch?” He asks, lightly squeezing your arms. You hum and nod, not sure where he’s going with this. He leans down, grazing his lips against the shell of your ear. You can hear the grin in his words  as he says, “Remember when I made you squirt so much that it was dripping off the sides?” 

The fire that erupts in your body scorches throughout. Like he flipped a switch with his words, your nipples harden, feeling wetness run out of you. You make a noise in the back of your throat while he moves his hands from your arms. One lowering to grip your waist, the other moving higher, to your throat. A firm hold, he adds no pressure. It sits there, possessively. 

He guides your head back, tilting it so you can meet his eyes. Cerulean half-lidded, grin still spread across his face with satisfaction at your body’s response. Tipping his head forward, lips brushing. “You’ve needed me so bad, huh? Must’ve been so hard these past couple months without me fucking you.” You whimper, eyes fluttering closed. He tightens his grip on your throat. 

“Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? Seein' you tonight, fuck it, it's fine”

“Look at me,” He commands, your eyes once again trained on his face. “So good, you could always follow directions so well.” “Please,” You plead, beginning to tremble. “Oh? Something you want? You know how to ask, or is that brain of yours already turned to mush?” He’s taunting you, you don’t even fucking care. “N-need you to touch me, so bad,” You whisper, lips parted. You lean up on your tiptoes to try to close the distance between your lips, but he pulls away.

He tuts, “Why don’t we start with you getting on your knees for me, then I’ll think about touching you, hm?” He pats your cheek with his hand. You turn towards him and immediately sink to the floor, knees hitting the rug a bit too fast, causing a bit of burn. Ignoring it to grab at his sweats, you begin pulling them down. “Goddamn, baby. If I knew you would get on your knees this quick, I would’ve called sooner.” Ignoring him, you work on his briefs next, joining the pants around his ankles.

Fully exposed to you, your eyes rake up his sculpted physique. Having looked like he was carved out of marble, freckles and moles scattered about his body, his chest scars faintly contrasting with his skin. “Admiring the view? Me too,” He props his hands on his hips, smirking down at you. You think if you rolled your eyes any harder they’d pop out of their sockets.

You look up at him, a smirk pulling at your features. He narrows his eyes. “What’s that look ab–oh fuck!” He yells out, hands shooting from his hips to entangle in your hair, having latched your mouth to his T-cock without warning. It jumps in your mouth and you quickly set to work on sucking, moving your head back and forth, hands gripping his thighs.

You set a ruinous pace, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You glance up to see his head thrown back and eyes closed, biting his lip to unsuccessfully stifle his whines. Your hand trails up closer to his cunt, fingers dipping into the wetness that’s accumulated. You slide one inside easily, immediately curling it and setting its pace to match your mouth.

He gasps out, body hunched over yours now, the grip he has on your hair tightens, a slight sting to it. “Ugh, God, baby don’t stop it feels so good, uh, yeah, you make me feel so fucking good,” That mouth of his never knows when to shut up, especially during sex. His babbles continue, his hips now meeting your mouth, thrusting into your warmth. You glide your tongue over his hardened clit, nose bumping into it while dipping down into his hole, tasting more of him. You love the way he tastes, eyes falling shut, savoring.

Leon’s body begins to tremble, a sign that he’s close. You latch your mouth back into place over his growth while you slide another finger inside, ramping up the pace. “FUCK, God! Don’t stop, I’m so goddamn close, baby. Feels so good, make me feel so good, love that fucking mouth,” continuous stream of words pouring from his mouth now, making you dizzy from the praise.

Feeling his beginning release splashing against you, you move your hand up to his lower abdomen and press down. Cock pulsing in your mouth while he squirts, soaking you and your clothes. They’ll surely be a noise complaint from the scream he produced as he hit his peak. You remove your mouth from him with a pop and lean back, loving the fucked out expression his face. 

“God. I needed that,” He murmurs, his hands now soothingly running through your hair. You hum, reaching to peel off your ruined clothing. “That’s a good look for you, babe.” It never stops with him. Shooting him a glare, you stand up and pull your bottoms down, stepping out of them. You pull your shirt off next, throwing it against his chest. It meets skin with a satisfying splat. “Ugh, why’d you do that for?” He grumbles, tossing it to the ground. 

“You and that goddamn mouth,” You spat, shoving your underwear down to your feet. “Whatever, you fucking love it.” He says, watching your movements with a starved look. Now fully naked, you turn toward him and catch his stare. You grin, “Admiring the view?” You repeat his own words to him, his eyes darting up to catch your amused look. Without answering, he stalks forward and you’re suddenly lifted into the air, a squeal leaving your throat.

Wrapping your legs around his waist to anchor yourself, latching your arms around his neck, he carries you into his bedroom. Tossing you onto the bed with an ‘oof’ leaving you, he opens his night stand and sets a few items to the side. “I’ve been thinking,” He starts, coming back to you and grabbing the back of your knees, pulling your legs apart. “About this since you walked out of my door two months ago. Been craving your pussy like a fucking drug.” He sinks to his knees. 

“Yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? "I only see him as a friend," the biggest lie I ever said Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend, I just tripped and fell into his bed”

“Now, you’re going to keep those legs spread for me while I eat you out, and you ain’t cumming until I tell you to.” He spits on your cunt. He watches it drip down your clit, jumping at the contact, swollen from arousal. “Fuck, no, come on Leon,” You beg, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. You open your mouth to plead some more when he lunges forward and licks a trail up from your hole to then suck your clit into his mouth. 

You gasp, falling back against the sheets and he takes his fill, the noises of your wet pussy filling the empty space. You whimper, holding yourself back, but his fucking mouth. On a particular hard suck, your body spasms and you squirt, wetting Leon’s chin. He pulls away, narrowing his eyes. “What did I tell you?” He asks, pushing two fingers into your trembling hole. “I-I didn’t–fuck–cum!” You gasp out, his finger unrelenting. “No squirting either, or can you not follow directions, huh?” He goads. You huff, letting your head fall back to the bed once more. “Can’t help that it f-feels so good–ah–” Your back arches when he hits a particular spot inside you. 

This isn’t what you were expecting from Leon’s call, thinking it would be a quickie, it soon evolving into what seems like an all night fuck session. You would have those every once in a while, his stamina seemingly lasting for hours. You were not prepared for it, but you’re not complaining, either.

His mouth returns to you, lapping up your juices, slurping as he goes. You groan at the sensation, gripping the sheets. “Favorite fucking meal,” His babbling coming back, pussy drunk. You tense up, fighting off the waves of pleasure and bite your lip, taking deep breaths. He must notice, as he pulls up for a breath he asks, “Aw, poor thing. Bet you’re wanting to just gush on my face, huh?” You whimper, “Leon, please. I’ve been so good, let me cum,” You’re close to tears, willing to tell him anything if he allows you to finish.

He hums, contemplating, rubbing his thumb against your clit, it throbbing against his finger. “Tell me how much you missed me, how badly you needed me these past couple months.” You tense, your brain in a frenzy trying to form a sentence. You did miss him. Missed his cocky smile, his corny jokes and his softer side he showed only to you. Your brain conjured up something you didn’t proofread before it left your mouth, saying, “I love you.”

Leon stills. His movements paused over your overly sensitive area, watching your face. “You…What?” Unbeknownst to you, his widened eyes shimmering with emotion, you hastily try to backtrack. “I-I didn’t mean to say that, not what I meant to say,” You get out, pulling yourself up on your elbows. “I didn’t mean to make this awkward, I’m sorry, Le–AH” You yell out, your lower body getting grabbed and dragged even further off the edge of the bed, Leon starting again with renewed vigor.

“F-fuck, Leon! Oh God, I c-can’t hold back anymore, gonna cum,” You wail out, hands reaching down to pull at his silky strands. He groans against you, “Cum for me, baby, come on. Make a mess all over my fucking face,” He growls out, unrelenting. Your hips buck up to meet his suckling, fingers squelching in and out of you. Keening, you reach your orgasm. Chanting his name as you quiver against his head, your release running down his face and chest. He groans, letting you ride it out. Rutting into his mouth, his jumbled words indecipherable to your blissed out mind. 

Laying limp against the sheets, Leon finally pulls away, eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail he can. He maneuvers your body to lay your head against the pillows, climbing into bed himself. He engulfs your frame, burying his face into your neck.

“Did you mean it?” His ask is muffled by his face’s position against you. You bring your hands up, running one up and down his back while the other cards through his hair. You take a breath before responding. “Yeah, I did,” Turning your face, your confirmation whispered against his head. His grip tightens, a noise bubbling up from his throat. 

“Do you…Love me too?” You ask, the air around you two seemingly waiting with anticipation. He moves his head against you, nodding. A smile adorns your face. You kiss the top of his head, letting him continue to latch onto you. He shifts, clearing his throat and pulling the blankets over your bodies. You’re now turned away from him, with him spooning you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you closer. He buries his face into your hair, “Do you, you know. Want to try again?” His voice is quiet, muffled still. 

“Yeah, I would,” You smile, squeezing one of his forearms. “Cool,” He says, his grip tightening. Emotional constipation aside, It’s moments like these where you forget why you left to begin with. These moments you cherished with Leon after being so vulnerable. The way his voice softened and became shy, how he would hold you close. Maybe, after your confession, it would change things, maybe.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Tags: @neondogs, tagging since I finished it before I sent you the excerpt 😭

[detachedminxsfics]

Improv

Characters: Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Actress F!Reader

Summary: You just wrapped for the day on the set of The Walking Dead, and you can't stop thinking about your impending first scene with Negan, more importantly, playing Negan's lover.

Word count: 2.6K+

Warnings: NSFW - Vaginal sex, slight rough fuck, creampie, fucking JDM in his Negan fit bc its hot

A/N: Tried something a little different to celebrate 100 followers! I'm so thankful, and eternally grateful for all the continued love on my Negan stuff. Tysm! <3

You idly tapped your feet against the floor as you held the script in your clammy hands, the spot you'd sunk into on the sofa warm with how long you'd been sitting. You'd gone over it a thousand times, and yet still feared that you wouldn't be able to act it as well as you would like. Jeffrey was most likely still out filming one of his many scenes in the Sanctuary, but you were wrapped for the day. Your characters hadn't gotten the opportunity to interact with one another on-screen yet, but tomorrow that was all going to change. The dynamic between you and Negan was intended to leave one hell of a lasting first impression on the fans, and you needed to maintain the hot-blooded chemistry you were so thrilled to portray. You skimmed over your first scene with Jeffrey for the thousandth time when the door to his trailer swung open, and a weathered black cowboy boot stepped in. He was still wearing his Negan outfit, minus the leather gloves and usual wielding of the infamous Lucille. He looked good, and tired, judging by the huff he entered with as he closed the door behind him.

"Hey." Your small mutter to make your presence known faintly startled him, and he spun to face you with a hand hovering over his racing heart.

"Shit darling, you scared me. Everything alright?"

Your lips formed a small smile, and you waved the script around in your hands to accentuate your point.

"Just going over our scene, y'know since we gotta shoot it tomorrow? And I think, I'm just not sure about it."

You and Jeff didn't know each other awfully well, but you'd spoken in passing between takes on the Sanctuary set, and under general introductory circumstances.

"Oh yeah? Talk to me." He set down the script he had been holding before making his way over to you and lowering himself down onto the space beside you, your fingertips still fiddling with the edges of the pages as you gathered the courage to confess your doubts.

"It's just, who Negan loves is so important to his character. And Lucille is so important to him in the comics, and such an iconic centerpiece to his storyline, and I'm just worried I won't be able to portray the love between our characters authentically enough. Like I can't measure up to that."

He listened to every single one of your words attentively, even nodding in places as you spoke. It was reassuring.

"Look, I've seen you act, and I've seen how much of a badass you are. You're gonna be great, I've got no doubt about that. But if you'd like I got a short break between takes, and we could run our lines together. Just to get a feel for the scene."

Your eyes widened slightly, and you glanced down at the script page in your hand. Your character's first scene with Negan is intended to set the tone for their not-so-public and flawed bond, and what the two of them mean to one another behind closed doors, essentially, in a clothes scattered on the bedroom floor kind of way. Nevertheless running through this scene with none other than the man himself would surely calm some of your nerves, and the offer was just too good to resist.

"Sure. Do you wanna stop just after my last line?" The reason you asked was that the moments that followed after your last line of dialogue was a rather steamy sequence of kissing and shoving, the scene set to cut just as you and Jeff hit the mattress, partially nude.

Jeffrey stood to his feet and made his way over to where he'd left his script, making brief eye contact with you as he flipped to the relevant pages.

"I say see what happens, and we'll do whatever feels natural. Sound good?"

"All good to me."

His eyes lowered back to skim the page, and you stood to your feet too, setting your script down on the coffee table considering you already knew your lines off by heart, thanks to your paranoia. After spending a few moments with the script Jeffrey set it down and glanced over at you, an obscure smile on his face.

"I'll walk up, and you just pretend I'm coming in. You ready?"

"Ready."

Your nerves begged to differ as to your level of supposed readiness, but you averted your focus on executing this scene. Jeffrey took a few steps back until he was on the other side of the trailer, and the elaborate shift as he immersed himself into the character was incredible. His jaw was slightly clenched with a signature scowl to match, and the way he sauntered with that leather jacket just demanded attention, it certainly captivated yours. You were sure you had gotten into character now too, feeling as you shifted the weight from one leg to the other, flexing your hip as you stood. She was bold with a firecracker attitude to match, so it was no surprise Negan was drawn to her.

"Honey, I'm home." Jeff bellowed with that noticeable drawl to his voice, and a wide unnerving smile to match.

"What do you want, Negan? You've had me standing in here longer than I ought to be, like one of your damn wives."

He feigned offense from your displeased tone, every step bringing him closer and closer.

"Well hell, aren't you just happy to see little ol' me? You're a busy woman these days."

You rolled your eyes a little at Negan's blatant self-flattery.

"I'm busy because I've got a duty to do, a job you tasked me with. If you don't like not seeing me that much, get somebody else to run my damn post." You narrowed your eyes to pair with the slight venom laced in your tone, and he closed most of the distance that was left between you.

He was invading what was left of your space now, his smile still lingering on his lips as he exhaled a mock, surprised breath at your rather brash words.

"Oh, what a big mouth on you sweetheart. If you keep forgetting exactly where you stand I might just take your suggestion on board, it would seem you've forgotten your manners."

Jeff swept a stray strand of hair behind your ear as he chastised you for your curt attitude, and you had to redirect your focus back to continue with the scene. That wasn't scripted, and you felt as though it was just a taste of the kind of improv an actor as experienced as Jeffrey would be accustomed to, and it exhilarated you.

"Not forgotten, I'm just sparing with them. Besides, we both know that if you're gonna take shit from anybody, it's me."

The slight clenching of his jaw showed that you were pushing him, urging him into toeing the line of his limits with you. He softly cups the line of your jaw, his thumb resting against your chin. Another non-scripted gesture that made the attraction between the two that much more believable.

"Alright, let's cut the bullshit, shall we? Rick the prick and his band of dickless assholes are proving to be more of a handful than we thought. I've mellowed him out a little, but I need someone I can trust back here, someone to hold the line while I deal with it. And as much as I love Simon, well, he's just not the man for this kinda gig. This is a job for my girl."

You subtly softened your stare, leaning into his touch. Though she could be a hardened, callous woman, she had a soft spot for him. It was important that the viewers could see that, could see that she had weak spots. More importantly, just to see them be vulnerable with one another.

"Your girl, hm? There's a room down the hall with six other girls that are yours too, what's supposed to make me believe I'm so different?" She was teasing him, testing the waters and gauging the level of his commitment to their secret love affair.

You kept your panic internal when you realised you uttered your last words, your features still as relaxed as they had been throughout. Jeff was thoughtful too, the whirl of thought taking place in his eyes. And though you barely knew each other enough for this kind of level of expression fuelled telepathy, you read him anyway. His eyes were wondering whether you were comfortable going ahead, and your slow lean toward his face was your answer. He responded rather fluently, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was meant to be tame and yet hungry, starved, and full. Your eyes fluttered closed, and the feeling of a hand gripping your hip to further pull you in made you all the more eager. Jeff was a good kisser, a real slow and rhythmic kind of guy. Your arms wrapped around his neck just as the script had prompted, and the movements of your mouths lasted a lot longer than you ought to. He placed his other hand on your hip to draw you towards the wall of the trailer and slam you back against it, pressing his chest against yours, positively trapping you. It was when his fingers played with the hem of your lace trim tank top that you realised you weren't acting anymore, and truthfully, you weren't sure you minded. His mouth was on your neck, his teeth making diligent heated nips at your skin, mindful of the fact that you couldn't have any marks showing for the filming of the show. You breathed a shaky, hesitant moan, and Jeff pulled back to yank your top over your head. When he leaned back in to press his lips against yours you gently placed a hand on his shoulder to halt him, and he glanced at you with a mixture of confusion and longing.

"You forgot your line." You hummed teasingly, tilting your head as you playfully chastised him for his mistake.

Jeffrey grinned at you, the lust having corrupted his gaze conveying his true lack of care for continuing with the scene, and that he surely was no longer pretending.

"Whoops, fuck it." He muttered with a sense of impulsivity, and the next thing you knew, your feet were no longer touching the ground.

He lifted you, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist whilst the grip on the underside of your thighs supported your body. The trip to the sofa was brief and rushed, and you fell into the inviting cushions a lot sooner than you thought. Jeffrey was on you in seconds, so fast that you feared you'd forget to breathe. His fingers clambered for the zipper of his black leather jacket, but your words interrupted him.

"Wait. Keep it on, I like it."

Your confession had him raising his brows, a staggered look in his eye as he fiddled with his belt.

"Sure can do, we just can't make a mess of it." He said matter of factly, pulling his now undid belt through the belt loops, and slinging it onto the ground.

You too undid your pants, pulling and shimmying your jeans off until they'd gathered at your calves. You kicked them off, and your panties were discarded shortly thereafter. You were bare besides your bra, totally exposed. When you glanced up at Jeff he'd pulled his boxers down just enough to free himself, his pants still on just in case he was suddenly called to set. You spread your legs to make adequate space for him, and he was more than happy to oblige. He settled into the space you made, placing a hand on your waist as he leaned down to hover over you, the smell of leather and expensive cologne wafting past your nose. Then you felt him, easing in at first, pacing you. Your mouth fell open as your breath hitched, and an embarrassingly breathy moan followed suit. The hand on your hip slightly clenched, gripping you, whilst the other got lost in your hair, sifting through the strands as he eased you through the onslaught of pleasure.

"God, you're so good."

His praise only made you that much more wanton, and his low groans filled your ears afterward. You were in heaven. He was the perfect scene partner, your undeniable chemistry was off the charts, and he was insanely skilled with your body too, something to which you were currently discovering. Jeffrey's thrusts grew harder, faster, a more brutally unforgiving pace as he bottomed you out entirely. His touch was merciless, and your wild and primitive whimpers were positively matched with the way his hips hungrily connected with yours. Your lips smashed together, thankfully muffling some of your noisy and earnest moans. Everything was just bliss. He tasted so good, and he felt incredible. It was as though he knew every inch of your body, and treated it as such. You were intoxicated with him, and the heat pooling in your abdomen only intensified with every thrust. When you could no longer restrain yourself you let go, his lips parting from yours enough to break the kiss but remain brushing, eyes wholeheartedly focused on you as you quivered beneath him. Your rather vocal and intense release was enough to tip him over the edge himself, and he filled you. His throaty groans filled the trailer again, filthy sounds that he hardly made any effort to stifle. You were utterly dazed, still coming down from your high when he lifted you from your place on the sofa in order to turn you towards him, and to lay the back of your head down across his lap. He'd adjusted his pants back to their presentable state, leaving you still nude, panting and splayed across him, but you didn't mind. One hand still stroked through your strands, the other idly planted just below your chest.

"Well, it would seem you've got nothing to worry about when it comes to authenticity. You are beautiful."

Your eyes lit up, and a small smile played on your lips. You parted your lips to respond when a knock on the door of the trailer startled you both, and the sudden sound of a voice from the other side of it.

"Jeffrey, you're needed on set."

A woman politely informed, and he attempted to suppress the disappointment threatening to trace his response.

"Got it, just give me a minute." He called back, a short silence ensuing as the sound of progressively distant footsteps eventually resumed your privacy.

He glanced down at you with a hint of irritation, not at you, but at the situation. He wanted to stay here with you a little longer, at least long enough to make sure you were okay, and to not make it seem so sleazy. But he couldn't. Feeling that he was about to stand up you leaned up, straightening your back as you sat up, and gave him the space necessary to stand. He stood to his feet and smoothed a hand over his somewhat messy hair, the slick that he'd been styled in having gotten ruffled during your spontaneous improv.

"Listen, I'm gonna be shooting through the night, but I've got a room at a hotel not too far from here, same hotel all the others are staying at. It's room 100. Let yourself in, get comfortable, and I'll see you there."

He finished his more demand than a request by rummaging through his pocket until eventually retrieving a set of keys, and he tossed them at you. You caught it with a smile, and you gazed back at him, top teeth dragging flirtatiously against your bottom lip.

"I'll be there." You responded with the hope that you didn't sound too desperate in your enthusiasm, and he took off.

Running your lines with him wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[heartfullofleeches]

A People Eater's Worse Nightmare

Yandere Parasite/Shapeshifter + G.N Reader blurb

Summary: They love you. What the fuck's wrong with them.

Warnings: Mentions of cannibalism

A nice big house. Large group of friends.

Yeah- this life was great.

Framed pictures of loved ones on the wall, freezer stocked full of meat. Beer cans on the coffee table and blood stains in the carpet. Such accomities made this place fitting to be their perfect home.

Shame they couldn't stick around.

[Hey, Dude! Last night was killer. You on for Sunday?]

The homeowner shoots a dismissive reply, sinking deeper into the revels of their catch present in the murky waters they reside. It was far too easy this time. A homebody with loose ties to numerous people turned the life of the party and friend group after a trip out of town. "Taking a new approach on life." And all that other horseshit that left people none the wiser to the horrors committed behind locked doors.

It was paradise, but too much of a good thing was bad for anyone's health. Getting to caught up in prey's daily life could make one sloppy. How people managed to miss those tiny spots of macroon in the rug or the smell that lingered was beyond them, but maybe that's just how primitive those claimed to be the top of the chain were. They needed to move ship, and fast.

A new message pops up on the screen, from a number simply marked with a heart.

[I had a really nice time with you last night. I hope we can meet up again soon.]

There it was. The other issue with being human. With how many lives they have under their belt, they've done this song and dance many times before. They've been married and divorced. Slept with numerous people in one night, and had committed friend with benefits deals. They could've made excuses for it all, but there was a side of them that longed for connect. An amalgamation of the feelings the one before them held and their own urges. There was many partners before this one and there would be plenty after.

So why can't they hit send?

[Hey, Y/n. Some stuff came up with my folks so I'll be out of town for a while. I'll hit you up when I get back.

A passage excuse. One that could potentially throw off their temporary mate if they were the type to overthink. For some reason, that got under their skin. Freaky. Maybe it's because they never managed to get them in the sack - or call them by their real name.

It's cool - By morning those feelings will be gone and they'll move onto the next. Just one more night and the homeowner would go back from social outcast turned devil worshipper - to a beast a little closer to home.

As their head sinks under the water, the homeowner just can't get that smile out of their head.

-

The parasite groans as it pull itself out of the bathtub. Hangovers were a bitch no matter what breed you were. It drags its heavy body off the floor and picks up the homeowner's phone. There's a missed message on screen. Their body suddenly feels lighter

[Hi. I saw you read my message, and I'm not trying to push things, but I wanted to invite you to breakfast if you were free.]

[Sure thing, Sweetheart. Just send me the locale]

The parasite hums to itself and it walks in front of the mirror, thinking about what to wear for its date with its partner. They open the cabinet to grab that perfume you said was nice on your second date-

What. What the fuck?

Ink slams the door shut; whiplash cracking the mirror. They stare at the exposed muscle structure of their skin, narrow eyes large as tennis balls. They - were themselves again, but they still as they did masquerading as that whiny little bitch. Their heart smiled in tune seeing that message, and their guts bubbled in anticipation for being beside the one to make them feel this way. They feel sick.

"What did you do to me. What did you do-"

Ink scrolls through the texts you've sent and photos you've taken together. You had to've done something. Poisoned them with some fucked up chemical. Snuck a part of yourself in their food to make them crave you so god damn bad.

Their search leaves them with nothing but a swollen heart and rage filled mind. They punch the mirror. Angry at the world, they still want nothing more than to see your disgustingly pretty face again.

"Fuck."

[reallyromealone]

Dadzawa and baby overhaul 2

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐Aizawa and Yamada were thankful it wasn't a school day, Yamada taking an emergency day so the family could get things for little (name).

"Now, what are our thoughts on this?" Yamada asked as they casted their laptop to the livingroom tv, a rainy Sunday meaning they couldn't go out shopping so it was at home shopping.

"I like the one with sheep!" Eri said excited as they looked at sleeper onsies as (name) snuggled in Aizawas arms, little pacifier in his mouth as he lazily watched the screen, enjoying the moving pictures.

(Name) was extremely attached to Aizawa, Eri mentioning how he was only really handled for feedings or changings so he was desperate for contact.

"How about we order some lunch? Then we can move onto furniture" Aizawa said as (name) stretched his little arms up, clearly content in his new dad's arms as the family discussed what they should get for lunch, (name) now sitting up and and bouncing slightly as they spoke.

"What do you think (name)? Western or Japanese food?" Yamada asked the babe, getting close and (name) obviously not understanding what's going on just raised his little arms and reached out to the blond, wanting to be held by him "oh so sweet, western it is!"

The family ordered (fast food) and in the bag Sanza brought was some baby food "let's see..." Shinso said reading the labels and looking a little disgusted at the combinations before spotting a bottle of custard "hey (name)" shinso said cheekily to the baby as everyone ate, (name) sitting his little bum on the carpeted floor.

Aizawa and Yamada were already recording as Shinso got on his stomach and put a baby spoonful to the boys mouth, (name) taking a bite before a shocked expression washed over his face, the boy bouncing slightly and smacking his lips "was that good?" Yamada asked as (name) reached out for the spoon.

"Well at least we know he likes sweets" Shinso said as he let Eri feed the boy a spoonful.

(Name) got five spoonfuls in before he looked like a drunk man on the floor, starfished on the carpet as his dad's took photos.

The day continued, the family ordering baby supplies there were coming the next day and they had called the local furniture store about the possibility of them delivering a baby crib same day, thankfully they didn't have many deliveries so it would be able to come within the next few hours.

(Name) took a nap on the couch as Aizawa and Yamada finished grading papers, the family doing their own thing.

Eri was also taking a small post meal nap as Shinso worked on a project.

"Oh Sho, look" Yamada points to their cats who finally graced them with their presence, the two cats taking note of the tiny baby and the fatter male cat lovingly named "cat" in English flopped beside him and joined in the nap.

The other one went to go eat before sitting on the arm of the couch and watching the tiny baby, leaning over to sniff him.

The two watched as the cats accepted the baby who was fast asleep, kicking his little legs every so often.

When the crib came, the two adults thought it would be best to put it in their room for fast access to the baby if need be, sho laying on the bed with little (name) laying in his chest as Yamada put together the crib.

(Name) stared at Aizawa who stared back, the babe wide eyed before reaching over with his chubby ravioli hands and grabbing Aizawas nose.

Yamazawa family were happy (name) acclimated so well, the boy fitting in like the last piece of the puzzle.

The end of the small vacation would be in a few days and Aizawa already emailed Nedzu about the newest edition.

"ABABABA!" (Name) yelled out at 6am on the dot to his new parents, the little babe making angry baby sounds for food "yeah yeah, I'm coming" Yamada mumbled as he stumbled shirtless to the crib and lifted the boy who snuggled into the warmth of his skin "a hug and a bottle should do you good" he mumbled sleepily as the two went to the kitchen to prepare the little listener a nice meal and some coffee brewing.

"There we go, look at you go" the blond watched tiredly as the babe drank his bottle with only a little assistance from the hero "still can't believe such a little bundle of happiness came from someone so terrible" Yamada mumbled as the babe looked at him with wonder "Eri is really excited to be your big sister, Shinso is even happy about it... You really fit in well"

When (name) finished his bottle, the others trudged out and Aizawa began breakfast as Shinso got himself and his sister some orange juice, the only one happy and awake was little (name) who babbled happily.

The morning was sleepy and calm as Aizawa let the baby try a little miso soup and was pleased at the babes happy reaction.

"His stuffs here" Aizawa said as Shinso took the tiny babe who gently smacked at his face as the adults brought in all the packages "look (name), all for you buddy!" Yamada said sweetly as little Eri helped bring in the obvious clothing packages "there.." "uh dad" Shinso looked at (name) in slight horror as the babe began grunting and looking focused and then a foul smell radiated off the baby.

Freshly changed (name) giggled at Yamadas grossed out face as he threw out the soiled diaper "yeah yeah, very funny" he said teasingly as they opened the packages to figure out what was what, the cats keeping the babe company as they folded all the adorable little clothes for him, the tiny socks and little shirts.

"So when are you guys gonna tell Aunt Nem and Uncle Oboro?" Shinso asked curiously as they cleared out the office that wasn't used much, the heros tending to work in the dining room or keep anything not meant for young eyes at the office.

"When we have him settled, were going to have to bring him tomorrow so they will probably meet him then" Aizawa said simply as he put (name) in a precious kitten onsie and a little cat themed pacifier "look (name)! Toys for you!" Yamada said bringing some freshly cleaned blocks for the babe, a few sound toys to urge him to learn speech.

For now they would just spend time with the tiniest member of the family, putting him in a rolling baby chair as they set stuff up for him.

[asherashedwings]

FNF CONNECTED UNIVERSE LINE UP Part 1: The Boyfriends

Chat. I spent 34 hours in this canvas. I am so tired.

Anyways, when I began working on Connected Universe AU, I already knew I'd be making line ups. Cuz I love making line ups and I also love suffering.

Close-ups and lots of yapping under the cut

THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A LOT OF READING IM SO SORRY-

Alternate Universe Boyfriends

So all these guys, unlike the other BFs present on this line up, are actually BF but from different universes. They're the same dude.

I thought it'd be neat to display the fact that they're from different universes by drawing them all in different art styles. It was also a fun exercise to test my art style range.

So starting from the left, we got Base Game BF. The main universe one. He's drawn in my usual art style. Not much special about him. Boyfriend.XML my beloved. I will note here though that I did take some of the elements form my own BF design and threw them onto the AU BFs. So that's why they all have some sort of jacket/hoodie etc.

Then we got Yourself. I reverted to old tactics and used my sketch for his line art, which results in him having thicker line art in general. I also further distinguished him by giving him harsh black shading. He always has that. He already had it on his face, so I just gave it to the rest of his body too. Cuz silly. You. You could even say. Silly Billy- 💥💥💥

Then we have Funkadelix. Him and a few other BFs make use of the Blackburn brush for their line art, cuz idk I like that brush. I referenced the Mutant Mayhem style when making him, since in the Connected Universe, he's in the same universe as those turtles. His colors are mostly yoinked from the actual Funkadelix sprite. I think. I may have tweaked them a bit/eyeballed them idk. I prolly eyeballed them.

Then we got Monday Dusk Monolith (MDM). I really went with the mentality of "NO ROUND SHAPES" with this fucker. Just wanted him to look super sharp and scratchy, since that AU is literally dealing with an apocalypse. So sharp shapes just made sense in my brain.

I had a lot of issues settling on a style for Mix, so I just chose to take inspiration from the FNF loading screens, cuz it just fit in my brain, idk. His design also features present in my Pico design, like the stupid cleat shoes and stray hair lines. Yknow, since he's literally a mix of BF and Pico. He also uses Blackburn

Finally, HD. I decided to try and go for a semi realistic style for him, proportion wise at least. Cuz. Yknow. HD. He also uses the blackburn brush, but I also pulled an old tactic for him and made his sketch visible over his coloring. Cuz idk, I think it lends towards the vibe.

"Side" BFs

Okay, now we're REALLY getting into AU territory.

So from here on out, all the BFs are separate people from THE BF, and have their own names and shit.

So staring off, we got Blake. I was reading through his wiki trivia and saw them say his style was more "radical and funky" than base BF's. I saw the word funky and ran with it dawg. So that explains this clothes. I also tried my darndest to get rid of a lot of the BFs caps, cuz dude, I can't have that many fuckers having cubic backwards caps. So I gave Blake a pair of star shaped sunglasses cuz funky, chat, FUNKY. We decided that his stage name is Love Bird, and he chose that cuz that's a pet name his GF has for him, and if he had a band it'd be called The Birds of Paradise.

Then we got .XML. I immediately knew I wanted to give him a mullet. Look at this man and tell me he wouldn't have a mullet. Besides that, not much changed. Since he kept the name of .XML, I imagine he is actually related to BF in some way, and he just goes by his last name. They might be cousins or brothers or something idk. There's also more dumbass info on him here:

Then there's River, or G-Sides BF. I took a lot of inspiration from his teaser designs, cuz they were silly. Literally named his river after the dumbass river design on his sweater. I don't got much info on him besides that. I can't talk about River without including this image so here:

The New Yorkers

This group is literally named after the fact that they all live in NY in my AU. Technically, the Minus BFs should also be here, but they're their own group.

Starting with Bartholomew, or B3, I just took the shape of his glasses and ran with it. Chat I needed to get that shape language from somewhere. I actually drew him twice, since the first time around I really was not digging how I drew him. He's fine now tho. His ass only got brim, cuz he had to be different somehow. Other than that. not much changed for him.

Now Evan.. Evan gave me so many issues. Like, dawg I drew him three times. I kept on trying to make the orange in his upcoming design WORK but I just COULDNT chat i COULDNT

So, per @braveboiart 's request, I ended up getting rid of it entirely and replacing it with his blues and grays. They also gave me the advice of brightening the colors a bit, which was very easy for me to do, I love bright ass colors. I also touched up his design shape wise, since that was also lacking the first time around. So boom, zippers on the pants and baggy ass sleeves. I'm content with how he came out. Chat I did all his design touch ups while I was exhausted out of my mind. Sometimes you gotta be delirious with sleep deprivation in order to cook, kids, trust me (please do not be like me-)

Benjamin was pretty simple. Kept him soft, kept him round, kept him pastel. Got rid of the caution sign on his hoodie since .XML already had that, and just replaced it with paint splatters. Not much more to say.

With X's design, I got a lot of help from my good good friend @minxtheeenby , mainly when figuring out his hair style. Those braids are not actually his hair, and are fuckass cords that connect to his headphones and can move independently. Don't ask about the logic, I will not be thinking about it. He was born in Philly cuz of his fuckass white eyes. White eyes means Philly, I don't make the rules here.

Minus BFs

The colorful critters, these guys are.

So. Beta. I had actually drawn him before this point, and he didn't change much from then

He has arrow shaped top surgery scars cuz I love giving constantly shirtless characters top scars and I just. HAD TO once I had the idea to make them arrow shaped. Main things to change since that drawing are some details on his pants and some of his colors; notedly the fact that his hat is a darker color compared to his skin to further distinguish it. Also Brave kept trying to get me to make parts of his design the same color as his nipples. So that happened /lh

Chat. I let my furry show with Blue. BUT CHAT HEAR ME OUT. On the wiki it's stated that he's a "Dog??". You think I could look at that and not go all the way? So yeah. Dog. He's silly and he got his weird ear ring things from his sister (Minus Miku).

Not much to say on Mean, he barely changed. I just drew him in my style and added a few details. He might also be an alien, idk.

Now, I posted about Golden a bit, but for those who didn't see that insanity: I made him an Alien Hominid. Cuz small yellow alien=Alien Hominid in my brain. Flawless logic. (Don't worry chat, I sat down and extensively researched the AH series to the best of my ability to check if it made sense. And I didn't see anything that would make it not make sense?) But yeah, silly. Him and Otis might be buddies, cuz goofy.

Who Fuckin Knows

These guys are just all the guys I had nowhere else to put. Miscellaneous group.

So first we have Bonnie, or Saturday Night Swappin' BF. He's another one that I had to go back and touch up. I actually touched him up the same night/morning as Evan. He ended up turning purple. The name we assigned him was an omen /j Chat I swear he was originally blue, I don't know what happened

HC that he just got really into FNaF when he was younger and has just been cosplaying a humanized Bonnie the Bunny ever since /hj

BIDU GAVE ME SO MANY ISSUES AND IDK WHY. It's prolly cuz by the time I got to him I was getting SUPER burnt. But I prospered and was able to finish him. And I don't hate how he came out, so bonus points there. Main change was replacing the prohibition sign on his shirt with a lightning bolt, cuz no one but BF is allowed to have that symbol, and Bidu already had lightning bolt imagery, so eh why not. His eyebrows being green, at least in my style, implies his hair is naturally green, and he just added the blue and pink, and I find that slightly humorous, idk.

Keith (StarCatcher) was another one I had to go back and touch up, but that's due to the fact that I was informed that him and his GF got a redesign before the creator deleted their FNF stuff. So I had to go back and fix my design according to that. I also leaned into the scape suit direction cuz SHAPE.

Now, you might be wondering, why is Flippin BF here and not with the other alternates? He was grouped with him in a previous post? Well, that's because after more assessment, I decided that Friday Night Flippin' is in fact, in the same universe as Base FNF and not an alternate universe like I had previously decided. So I changed his design a bit (mainly just getting rid of his hat and changing the color of his shoes) and boom. Different guy. He is staying pixel art tho. I do still need to come up with a different name for him tho.

Now this next one, Heath, is not from a currently existing mod, but from an FNF AU my friend Minx is making.

I decided to include him cuz he's silly and I love him. Their AU is canon to the Connected Universe.

Okay, so Cam (Hellbeats BF) changed A LOT. I let my furry slip out again. BUT I HAVE ANOTHER REASON FOR IT. See, in this connected universe, it's not just Newgrounds stuff that is canon. I also made other fandoms I'm in canon. So that means the Hellaverse is canon (specifically my rewritten version of it), and Hellbeats has to fit in with that. So I had to assign the characters species from that universe as well. So I made Cam a cherub, cuz I wanted him to stay short as fuck. He's also a raccoon cuz he's a lil shit and I thought it'd fit If ur curious, this is what everyone else is:

Okay I'm done yapping now. Gonna be doing the GFs next.