#never seen this musical i think this was a good intro to it

[chainedspectre]

spies

[chris-hallelujah]

Have You Ever Tried This One? | m.s.

Summary: The triplets attend singer!reader's concert and Matt catches her eye from the crowd.

Part 2 Here!!

Warnings: insinuating sexual acts, talks of sex positions

Word Count: 640 words

My Master List

Join my tag list : @matthewsroses

Divider by: @anitalenia

A/N: This is inspired by this post by @delilahsturniolo . Thank you for letting me use your work as inspiration! Also thank you to @chestersturniolo for helping me find her piece. I do not give consent for my work to be reposted, rewritten, or shared on this platform or any other.

<3 - Billie

The lights in the arena darkened around the group standing at the barricade. Matt, Nick, Chris, and Chris' girlfriend cheered along with everyone else as you appeared in a spotlight on the stage. "Boston! It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed into the microphone causing the crowd to roar. Matt practically had hearts for eyes as you sauntered around the stage in small, sparkly outfits. Sure, he had heard your music and seen you in photos before, but there was something different about seeing you in front of him. Chris and Nick quickly took notice of Matt's in awe state and chuckled.

After a few numbers you had reached the interactive section of your concert. Oftentimes you chose a person in the crowd who was dancing the most or seemed to be having the best time. It was never actually based on your physical attraction to someone, until this time. You had been eyeing the three identical boys in the front row. One specifically caught your eye. You'd seen these boys online before and while you didn't know much about them, you knew which one you wanted. He seemed a bit more quiet than the other two and was staring at you like you were glowing. "Girls, girls, come here!" you spoke into the mic, gesturing for two of your dancers to come over. "Do you see that guy right there? Yes, the triplet but that one, with the pink t shirt," you pointed in Matt's direction. He froze as the camera panned to him for the crowd to see on the big screen. Everyone went wild causing Nick and Chris to bust out laughing. The lights throughout the arena flashed red and blue as a siren sound played throughout the stadium. You knelt down in front of him, "hey there, what's your name?" You cooed into the microphone, batting your eyelashes.

"M-Matthew!" he stammered nervously as Nick filmed the interaction.

"Oh Matthew, I'm afraid you're under arrest. You are just way too hot!" You giggled into the microphone, "Will you take these sweetie?" The security guard took the fuzzy pink handcuffs from your hand and held them over the barricade for Matt to grab. His blush was iminent as he took them with a smile and a nod. You stood back up, winking at him. "There are so many thoughts running through my head, Matthew. Dirty, dirty - oh! my clothes are falling off for you, Matthew!" You laughed stepping out of your dress revealing a shiny pink body suit. The intro of the song began and you danced and sang with your crew. "Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad's genetics," You sang, gesturing to the triplets with a giggle. Every once in a while throughout the song you'd shoot Matt a look or a wink. "You make me wanna make you fall in love. Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah. Wanna try out some freaky positions? Hey Matthew, have you ever tried this one?" You sat on your knees with one arm in the air doing a lasso motion to represent cowgirl. Matt about fell over and Chris was a laughing mess next to him. His brothers could not believe what they were witnessing.

That song ended and the show continued. A few songs later, the triplets and Chris' girlfriend were approached by someone from your team. "Matt?" Your manager asked, "You've all been requested backstage after the show." She smiled handing them all passes and getting back to work.

"No way!" Chris' girlfriend jumped up and down.

"Dude, your charm got us connections!" Nick laughed patting Matt on the shoulder. Matt stood staring at the backstage passes in awe. He couldn't believe that you had noticed him in the first place but also to invite him backstage??

[beemo-clippin]

Presentiiinngg *drumrolls* Favorite Etho + Bdubs moments of HC10! (Video length: 3:36 min)

There will most definitely be a part two at some point, so I would love to hear any of your favorite moments which I may include there ^-^

Video credit in order of appearance: Bdubs Ep.8 (23:20); Etho Ep. 2 (17:33); Bdubs Ep.6 (7:23); Bdubs Ep.2 (16:00); Etho Ep.3 (6:50); Bdubs Ep.7 (0:56); (1:53); Bdubs Ep.14 (27:19); Bdubs Ep.2 (15:23); Etho Ep.1 (7:17); Bdubs Ep.9 (2:41); Bdubs Ep.2 (16:13); Etho Ep.1 (8:41); Bdubs Ep.2 (16:58).

Bc of the length, the video description for this one is available by request, so please lmk if you would like one!!

Transcription is below cut:

*intro music*

--- 0:05 ---

[Etho] I don't know if you know RBG values but like more like a hundred green

[Bdubs] I don't know if you know HSL

[Etho] *laughs* [Bdubs] but- *laughs*

[Etho] Hue, saturation, luminescence?

[Bdubs] That would be- yeah! Yeah. So that would be a 50L

[Bdubs] "I don't know if you know RGB"

[Etho] *laughs* [Bdubs] *giggles*

[Etho] Well apparently you go HSL not- not RGB, uh huh

[Bdubs] Yeah, HSL's the, uh… that's the, uh, primary

[Etho] The artist standard, you know, yeah

[Bdubs] Yes. This is beautiful

[Etho] Someone that truly understands art

[Bdubs] That's right [Etho] Mhm

--- 0:34 ---

*mischevious music*

[Bdubs] Hullo?

[Etho] Bdubs?

[Bdubs] Woah! *laughs* You're in- you're inside?!

[Etho] Ah I was waiting for you, I decided I would just walk in, you know

[Bdubs] That's so rude, you brought the horse in?

[Etho] Does- does he not belong in here?

[Bdubs] The horse has never been in this house

[Etho] I saw the haybales in here, I thought it was like a-

[Bdubs] No, that's a carpet

[Etho] *chuckles*

[Bdubs] Out! Out. Out

[Etho] Not horse food?

[Bdubs] No. [Etho] Okay, okay

[Bdubs] No, stop it see! Look what happened

--- 1:07 ---

*gentle piano*

[Bdubs] I love this area

[Etho] You got the pink tree

[Bdubs] Yeah

--- 1:11 ---

[Bdubs] This might be pushing it for you, a little bit. I don't want to push you too hard

[Etho] Mhm. You thinking about texturing the floor?

[Bdubs] *laughs*

[Etho] But I can texture too like, I know how to texture

[Bdubs] Yeah yeah yeah! Oh I know you can. I- I know. I know that too much is uncomfortable

[Etho] Mhm

[Bdubs] Right?

[Etho] I- I don't know what it is

[Etho] Like I like it when you do it

[Bdubs] Sure, yeah. But it can be too much.

[Bdubs] Yeah. It's more for advanced H- *laughs* HSL type people

[Etho] *laughs*

--- 1:44 ---

*chill music*

[Bdubs] That roof, It's less than a forty-five degree angle. It's like a-

[Etho] It's flatter right?

--- 1:51 ---

[Bdubs] I'm soo… puffed up as a builder. Okay

[Etho] Mhm

[Bdubs] that you can say anything and it won't hurt me. I can take it

[Etho] I feel like you need, like, some… semi-rooves lower down like, like at the four-five block height… kinda thing. You know what I mean? Like those little overhangs to something underneath

[Bdubs] I thought I could take it and I can't

[Etho] *laughs* Oh no, I crushed him

[Bdubs] *laughs*

--- 2:21 ---

*inspired piano music*

[Etho] Look at that build

[Bdubs] Come on now

--- 2:25 ---

*gentle piano and distant chatter*

--- 2:31 ---

[Bdubs] Jevin, Ethan, I'm coming. er, Etho. Ethan? Ethan

[Etho] Ethan? [Jevin] Ethan!

[Etho] Ethan hunt! [Jevin] Ethan I'm coming!

--- 2:36 ---

*silly music*

[Etho] Okay connected. *laughs* What??

[Bdubs] Oh noo!!

[Etho] *laughs* I have never seen anything like that before

[Bdubs] It's worse!

[Etho] *laughing* How is that possible?

--- 2:49 ---

*wither shriek*

[Bdubs] Wait! You hear that?

[Etho] Is that cub? Oh I think Cub's after you

[Bdubs] It could be Hypno *wither shriek*

[Etho] Oh my goodness *wither shriek*

[Etho] Oh my goodness, they're coming Bdubs *wither shriek*

[Etho] They're coming!

[Bdubs] It could be Hypno!

*wither shriek*

[Bdubs] Oh it's you!!

[Etho] *laughs*

[Bdubs] Ohhh!

[Etho] *laughs* [Bdubs] *laughs*

--- 3:09 ---

[Etho] Alright, we're gonna go by seniority here. Bdubs

[Bdubs] Yea- hahaha. *whispers* youu. You!! [Jevin] Wow

[Etho] *laughs*Lead the way [Jevin] Woww

[Bdubs] *laughs* [Jevin] *laughs*

[Bdubs] Ohh

[Etho] Was that not respectful? I thought that was a respectful thing to do

[Bdubs] No it's very respectful to your elders. It was very good

[Etho] I don't understand some things about social dynamics, I tell you

[Bdubs] *laughs*

--- 3:31 ---

[Etho] If you're ever bored or- or lonely on the server Bdubs, come hit me up

[Bdubs] Oh yes. Okay. Thank you

<end transcription>

[uluvjay]

In your love-M. Rempe

Matt Rempe x fem! Reader

In which you and Matt finally pronounce your love for one another

Warnings?: tooth rotting fluff, kissing, concert setting, large crowd, based off of Tyler Childers song “In your love.”

“You excited?” He smiled down at you, his bright smile stretching out over his face.

“Yeah, I’ve only been to one country concert before.” You replied, rocking back and forth on your feet as you waited for the line to move up.

“Oh honey you’ve been missing out.” He laughed, wrapping his strong arm over your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him.

The second Matt heard Tyler Childers would be in town the man bought the tickets immediately, did he get yelled at for spending the amount of money he did? Yes, but he could care less.

He watched you dance around his apartment day after day singing multiple songs and there was nothing he wanted more then for you to be able to experience them live.

By the time you guys made it in and found a good spot in the crowd it had began to get dark, the opener coming on stage with a warm greeting.

You two didn’t know any of his songs but danced and enjoyed the music nonetheless, giggles floated from you as Matt spun you in circles and dipped you, his sisters taking video after video making sure to capture the sweet moments.

“Do you want a drink?” Matt asked once a small intermission came between the opener and Tyler..

“Just a water please.” You smiled politely.

“Gotcha.” He spoke, dipping down to place a kiss to your cheek before taking off.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes watched him walk away, butterflies floating in your chest as the heat of his lips still lingered on your cheek.

Many people thought he was a big buff jerk for the way he fought on the ice but they couldn’t be more wrong. He was gentle and kind, he was the guy that helped the old ladies in the grocery store grab things off the top shelf.

He was welcoming to anyone new, so open to giving new people a chance and while sometimes it gets him burned he always says he’d rather take the chance then not.

The voice of one of his sisters pulled you from your thoughts, “God he is so in love with you.” She laughed.

You blushed at her words, “you think so?”

“Think so? Girl I know so. I’ve never in my entire life seen him look at anyone or anything the way he looks at you.” She smiled throwing her arm over your shoulder similar to how her brother did earlier in the evening.

You didn’t get a chance to reply to her before you saw your boy heading your way, his large frame towering over a majority of the crowd.

“Here you go.” He smiled as he handed you the bottle of water.

“Thank you.” You hummed leaning to place a quick peck to his lips.

“You are very welcome pretty lady.” He replied, leaning down to lock your lips in one more sweet kiss.

Your small group talked and took some pictures while you waited for Tyler to take the stage, childhood stories and funny memories were shared from his sisters while you laughed and Matt blushed in embarrassment.

Finally when the lights dimmed and people started to cheer did you guys turn back towards the stage, watching as Tyler came out.

He greeted the crowd before jumping into his set list, multiple of your favorites starting off the show. You had your back resting against Matt’s chest while his arms wrapped around your front swaying you two side to side.

The beat to the song died and Tyler stepped away from the mic, he interacted with the crowd for a moment before introducing his next song.

“This one I wrote for a special someone in my life and I hope you love it as much as I do them. This is in your love.” He smiled.

“Oh I love this one” you smiled as you squeezed Matt’s arm in excitement.

You sang along to the intro watching him perform until you were turned to face Matt, you threw your arms around his shoulder, his hands dropped to your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest as he cupped your cheek softly and began to sing the words to you.

I will stand my ground, I'm a bad man looking for takers, You're the finest thing around.

So I will stand my ground

'Cause it's cold out there

And you know some men search for ages

For the love that I have found

So I will stand my ground

Tears pricked your eyes as he kept going, you’d been together almost a year now but neither of you had let the three word sentence slip yet.

You’d never felt anything like this before, nobody had made you feel as safe and loved like Matt had but you were scared of saying it too early for him.

We were never made to run forever

We were just meant to go long enough

To find what we were chasin' after

I believe I found it here in your love

You didn’t let him say another lyric before your lips were on his, hands gripping his thick jean jacket while both of his much larger ones came to cup your cheeks gently.

“I love you so much.” You cried when you pulled back.

He smiled, his own eyes watering as he wiped away your escaped tears, “I love you too sweetheart.”

He pecked your lips one last time before pulling you into his side, this time both of you belting out the lyrics.

I will work for you

'Til my hands are tired and bleedin'

I know what it is from us I'm needin'

I will work for you

His sisters watched in a quiet silence, tears of their own pricking their eyes as they watched their brother be so effortlessly in love with you.

The way he held you so close and tender, his fingers gently caressing your arm, his head rested against yours.

There were no doubts in their hearts that their brother had found his person.

Honey, I will wait for you

Honey, I will stand my ground

I will work for you

I will stand my ground

-

[n1ceguyen]

2AM Mistakes (Huh Yunjin x M!Reader)

Chapter 3: Faces in the Light

(Y/N POV)

Y/N wasn’t nervous about the concert. Not really.

It was more that surreal sense of stepping into a world that didn’t belong to you. He’d never been to a K-pop show before. Never been surrounded by so many people who already knew all the lyrics, the choreo, the fan chants. The energy was infectious, sure—but also overwhelming.

He followed his friend through the buzzing crowd, dodging merch tables and photocard trades. The arena lights buzzed faintly overhead, a low hum of pre-show tension in the air.

“This is gonna be insane,” his friend, Marcus, said, eyes already lit up. “They sold out so fast.”

“Yeah?” Y/N answered, adjusting his hoodie as they slipped into their seats. “I still don’t get how you convinced me to come.”

Marcus just grinned. “Because you needed to stop rotting in your room with lo-fi heartbreak music. You’re welcome.”

Y/N rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny it. It had been a minute since he left the apartment for something like this. And honestly… part of him was curious.

He pulled out his phone.

No new messages.

He thought briefly about texting her—hj_426—but didn’t. Not yet. She’d probably think it was weird.

The arena dimmed. A wave of screams rippled through the crowd like a living thing.

A deep bassline thudded through the floor beneath his feet.

Spotlights burst to life. The intro visuals hit the massive LED screen.

And just like that, they were on.

LE SSERAFIM.

Live.

And yeah, they were good. Like… really good.

Y/N found himself leaning forward without meaning to, watching the way each member carried themselves on stage. It was sharp, but effortless. Every movement deliberate. Voices tight, live vocals strong over the backing tracks. He didn’t know every name, but he could tell each one brought something different.

But it was one of them—her—that kept pulling his attention.

The one on stage left. Dark ginger hair, tied back. Wearing a mic like it was an extension of herself. There was something raw in the way she sang—not just technically good, but like she meant every word. Like she’d written them in the back of a journal no one was supposed to read.

Her voice hit a note during the bridge of the third song—clear, full, and aching—and for a split second, Y/N forgot he was in a crowd of thousands.

Because something about it…

Felt familiar.

The tone.

The way she let the note hang.

He blinked, hard.

But no. That didn’t make sense.

There was no way.

His brain tried to piece it together—her voice in the voice memos, that soft hum, the raw emotion tucked in the corners of her singing. There were similarities, sure. But this? This was LE SSERAFIM. Global tour. Massive stage. A world so far from his own, it felt like a different planet.

He leaned over to Marcus.

“Who’s that?” he asked, nodding toward her.

“Huh Yunjin,” Marcus said without hesitation. “Korean-American. Total all-rounder. Why?”

Y/N shook his head, laughed under his breath. “Nothing. Just curious.”

He sank back in his seat, gaze still fixed on her as the lights changed and the next track started.

It wasn’t possible.

Couldn’t be.

Because that would mean the girl he’d been texting about guitar chords and 2AM sadness… the one who said she “sang a little”...

Was her?

No. That was crazy.

The melody started to shift again—this one slower, softer. The kind of track that begged for a quiet room and late-night thoughts. Y/N listened to her voice slide into the first verse.

And for a heartbeat, he swore—

It sounded like something they could’ve made together.

He shook the thought loose.

Coincidences happened. People sounded similar. That’s all it was.

She’d probably just seen them live once, like she said. Maybe she was a backup singer. Or in music school. Or a fan.

Nothing more.

Still, when the lights flared again, catching the shimmer of her mic as she glanced across the crowd—

He looked down. Quickly.

And for the first time that night, he didn’t know if he wanted to send her another message.

—

The streets outside the arena were buzzing, even though the concert had ended almost half an hour ago. Fans lingered around merch booths, group photos were happening under flickering streetlights, and somewhere down the block, a Bluetooth speaker was already blasting “Eve, Psyche & the Bluebeard’s wife.”

Y/N walked in silence next to Marcus, hands stuffed into his pockets, his mind elsewhere.

“Good show, huh?” Marcus said.

“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, still chewing on something he couldn’t name.

“Surprised?”

“Honestly… yeah.”

They stopped to wait at a red light. Y/N pulled out his phone. Thumb hovered over the familiar message thread.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe nothing.

He typed anyway.

Y/N: show was wild they’re even better live

No overthinking.

He hit send.

Kept walking.

She didn’t reply right away. Not while he waited for the train. Not while he leaned against the window, the city slipping by in blurs of light and reflection.

But just as he stepped into his apartment, keys still in hand, his phone buzzed.

hj_426: see? told u they’d surprise you

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Dropped his bag. Sat on the edge of the bed.

Y/N: lowkey wasn’t ready for how good they were especially one of the vocalists she had this… idk something in her voice just hits different

It was honest. He didn’t think about what he was saying until after he’d sent it.

Her reply took longer this time.

hj_426: glad u liked it guess u really needed to get out huh

Y/N: yeah and now i kinda get why people live for this stuff the energy was crazy felt like everything else disappeared for a while

hj_426: maybe music’s supposed to do that make everything else shut up for a sec

He nodded to himself.

Stared at the blinking cursor for a while.

The question circled him again.

Could it be her?

He didn’t ask.

Not yet.

Instead, he just let it be.

Y/N: anyway thanks again for the demo i wanna work on the next part tomorrow if you’re down

hj_426: always 2am mistakes never sleep remember?

Y/N: true guess neither do we

He smiled.

Then leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, her voice from the stage still echoing in his head.

Still no names.

Still no faces.

But now there was a feeling.

And he couldn’t shake it.

[koyagifs]

p.o.v

pairing: seonghwa x reader au: 9th member | idol | poly genre: angst with comfort word count: 0.6k synopsis: you release a song for every member on their birthday while they are away in the military warning(s):

You sat on the stairs, the crowd buzzing with excitement after you finished singing Moonlight.

“So, as we all know,” you said, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you removed your earpiece, “it’s Seonghwa oppa’s birthday today.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and your smile widened. “Ha, I miss him too. Actually, I just spoke to him on the phone right before the concert started.”

“He’s been the biggest support in my career. As you all know, I’m usually the rapper—but he’s the one who really pushed me to explore singing.”

You slipped your earpiece back in just as the gentle intro of pov began to play through the speakers, each note soft and aching.

“So,” you murmured, barely above the music, voice warm with emotion, “I dedicate this song to you, Seonghwa oppa.”

The crowd quieted as your tone shifted, the intimacy of your words drawing them in.

“For loving me through every flaw and every insecurity... even when I couldn't see anything worth loving in myself.”

Seonghwa stared in awe from the shadows of the stadium, the black mask and hoodie disguising him completely as he took in the words pouring from your lips.

So this was what Yunho meant when he said you had a very good reason for telling them no—that you couldn’t meet them in Seoul last month.

He had been frustrated then, even hurt, wondering why you would choose distance over time with the members during his short break. But now, standing there, hearing your voice tremble with feeling as you sang his song—your song for him—every trace of that anger melted away.

The lyrics hit harder knowing they were yours, born from your heart, shaped by all the moments you thought he wasn’t watching.

And yet here he was, eyes locked on you as if nothing else in the world existed.

As the final note faded into silence, the crowd erupted into cheers, but your gaze lingered somewhere distant—like you were still singing just for him. You held the mic close, whispered a quiet “Happy birthday, oppa,” that got swallowed by the roar of the audience, but somehow, he heard it.

Back in the shadows, Seonghwa exhaled shakily. His hands, which had been clenched tight in his hoodie pocket, finally relaxed. He hadn’t planned to come. It had been a last-minute decision, made on instinct and aching longing.

He waited until the lights dimmed and the next set began before he slipped through the crowd, head ducked low, heart thundering.

The moment you stepped off stage, you knew.

It was written all over your team’s faces—the barely contained grins, the excited glances over your shoulder, the way your manager subtly nodded toward the hallway.

You didn’t even wait to ask.

Handing off your mic with shaking fingers, you speed-walked down the corridor, heart pounding louder than the music still echoing in the arena.

And there he was.

Leaning casually against the door to your dressing room, mask now pulled down, hoodie still on, but nothing could hide that smile—his smile. The one you hadn’t seen in months, the one that made every late-night call and every unsent letter worth it.

You didn’t stop to think. You didn’t need to.

You rushed toward him, colliding into his chest with all the force of everything you’d held in since the day he left.

He laughed softly, arms wrapping around you instinctively, pulling you tight like he never wanted to let go again.

“You’re really here,” you breathed, your voice muffled against his chest.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You really think I was going to miss my song?”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, a small laugh slipping out as you shrugged. “To be fair… I didn’t think you’d be able to come.”

Seonghwa shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Almost didn’t make it.” He cupped your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “But I did.”

His eyes searched yours like he was memorizing the moment. “And now that I’m here, I’m not wasting a single second.”

taglist: @soso59love-blog @misteez

[berryispunk]

Like A Song Stuck In My Head

Before @thedrabblecollective's challenge kicks off tomorrow—and after meeting the characters yesterday—here’s the intro story you’ll want to read before diving into the drabbles themselves.

pairing: Frankie Morales x ofc (Firefly)

tags: alternate universe, takes place after TF events, all the music references, rockstar! Frankie, dual POV, addiction, drug mention, cocky Frankie, strong female lead, ANGST, strangers to???, falling in love, some harder themes, dive into mental health (later), emotional turmoil, eventual smut for later chapters, curse words

general summary: Like a Song Stuck in My Head follows Frankie , as a troubled guitarist chasing a second chance, and Firefly, the sharp-tongued bartender who sees through him. What starts in a dive bar becomes something deeper—until it all falls apart. Some connections burn fast. Others never fade. Some songs never leave you, even when the music stops.

word count: 2,5 k

moodboard done by my dear friend @guelyury. gracias, bonita!

main series navigation

Firefly’s seen plenty of boys with guitars. But none like the one on stage tonight—wild waves for hair, sweat-slicked and electric like a live wire, half-drunk on adrenaline and something sharper. Frankie Morales, lead guitarist of Thorns of August, doesn’t just play—he moves like the music’s tethered to his soul, like it’s the only thing keeping him from flying apart.

She wipes down the counter with a practiced flick, half-watching from behind the bar. Not that she’ll ever admit it.

Donna leans in beside her, arms crossed, gaze steady on the stage. “The boys are good, right?”

Firefly shrugs. “Guess they’re decent.”

Donna smirks, all tough-love and mischief. “Guess the fish boy’s got an eye on you.”

That’s when she looks up—and catches Frankie’s gaze locked on hers like he’s been watching her all along. He doesn’t look away. Just smirks, cocky and smug, before turning back to his guitar like she hasn’t just caught him staring. She rolls her eyes, but there’s heat curling low in her chest.

After the set, he swaggers over, guitar still slung across his back like a weapon or a trophy. Pupils blown wide, jaw tight—wired as hell but humming with something she can’t name. He taps the bar with two fingers.

“Whiskey. Double.”

She gives him a once-over. Band tee snug, silver rings, that look in his eyes like he thinks she’s already fallen.

She pours the whiskey. He knocks it back in one go. No wallet.

“You gonna pay for that?” she asks, cool.

He grins. “I already did. Just played your sad little stage, didn’t I?”

She doesn’t blink. “If you don’t pay, I’m throwing you out. Couldn’t care less if you’re Mick Jagger’s long-lost bastard.”

He laughs—slow, full of bite. Peels a crumpled twenty from his back pocket and tosses it onto the bar like a challenge.

“Are you always this uptight, hermosa?”

She meets his gaze, unflinching. “Are you always this insufferable?”

—

She walks away before he can come up with something clever, sliding down the bar to serve a pair of regulars who actually tip. Doesn’t spare him another glance. Frankie watches her go, elbow braced on the counter, still riding the high—everything too bright, too fast, too much. But somehow, she cuts right through the noise.

It’s the way she moves—like she owns the place, like the world doesn’t get to touch her unless she says so. The sharp line of her jaw. The tattoo curling over her collarbone. No rain, no flowers.

And the way she doesn’t smile when she doesn’t mean it. That part floors him.

He thinks about tossing out something flirty, one of his usual throwaway lines. But it feels wrong here, flimsy—like trying to play a song with all the strings snapped. She’s not playing the same game. And it bothers him.

Later that night, the crowd’s thinned to the half-dead drunks and the regulars too drunk to find the door. The stage is dark, gear packed, Benny’s laugh echoing somewhere near the exit. But Frankie’s still at the bar—leaning, lingering. He’s not sure why. He tells himself he could leave, find some girl if he wanted to. He’s done it before. But tonight, he doesn’t. Tonight, he stays. Eyes drawn to the fiery redhead behind the bar who hasn’t smiled at him once.

“You still here?” she asks without looking up, wiping down the counter like she doesn’t care if he answers.

He shrugs, trying to look cooler than he feels. “Band’s packing up. Thought I’d keep you company.”

She flicks a glance his way. “You look like you’re two seconds from kissing the floor.”

He grins, all teeth. “Wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”

She huffs out something like a laugh, but it’s dry. Noncommittal. Still, he takes it like a win.

“You get high like this every show?” she asks after a beat, genuinely curious now.

He leans in, cocky. “Only the good ones.”

“Then that explains it.”

That makes him laugh—rough, real. He rests an elbow on the counter like he plans to stay a while, like maybe he belongs here now.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Firefly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Bullshit.”

She shrugs. “That’s what people call me.”

“You got a real name?”

“Yeah, but you haven’t earned it.”

That hits somewhere deep. He covers it with a smirk, but inside, it throws him off balance. People usually hand him what he wants. She just tossed him back on his ass without even trying. 

He doesn’t know it yet—not through the static in his head or the ego propping him up—but something shifted. And in the weeks that follow, he keeps showing up. Even when they’re not playing. Even when he says it’s for the drinks.

It’s not.

—

It starts on a quiet night. The kind where the jukebox hums low and the only customers left are nursing heartbreaks or hangovers. Frankie’s at the bar again—this time not high, not vibrating out of his own skin. Just tired. Guitar case propped beside him like a loyal dog. She slides him a soda without a word.

He nods. “Thanks.” No smirk, no wink. Just that low, scratchy voice that’s somehow softer without the coke in his system.

She leans in, arms crossed. “So what’s your story, Guitar Boy? You always this broody when you’re sober?”

His smile twitches at the corner, crooked and real. “Only when no one claps for me after a show.”

She rolls her eyes, but something in the stillness makes her pause. He’s not performing tonight. Not selling the charm, not trying to win anything. Just sitting there, present. So she cracks, just a little.

“I used to study literature,” she says, fingers absently tracing the condensation on his glass. “Had this whole big idea of being a teacher. A writer. Romantic kind of broke, you know?”

He doesn’t interrupt. Just watches her, like he knows better than to speak yet.

“Then my mom got sick. Bills piled up. Took a break from school to help out. Never made it back. Ended up here, in a city I never meant to stay in, behind a bar I didn’t plan on working at.”

She shrugs like it doesn’t sting anymore. Maybe it doesn’t.

“But... I don’t know,” she adds, quieter. “I’ve grown to weirdly love it. The noise. The chaos. Donna. Even the semi-decent bands that roll through.”

He lifts a brow. “Semi-decent, huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

But the corner of her mouth curves, and this time the smile isn’t forced.

After that, he starts showing up more often. Not every night, but enough that she notices when he’s not there. Always sober now, or at least trying to be. He comes in quiet, nursing a soda or nursing nothing at all, just resting in the hum of The Shack like it’s the only place that doesn’t expect anything from him.

They talk. Not deep all at once, but in fragments. He’s a better listener than she expected. When his pupils aren’t blown wide and his hands aren’t jittering, Frankie has this way of being still—really still—like he’s storing everything she says to turn it into music later.

One night, she tells him about her favorite poetry book. Just mentions it in passing while wiping down the bar. Doesn’t expect him to care.

But a few nights later, he walks in, looking sheepish, a little unsure, and drops a worn copy of the exact book on the bar between them.

She blinks. “You can read?”

He chuckles, fake offended. “A few words, yeah.”

Then, almost shyly, he adds, “I read some of it. It's kinda like songwriting, just… quieter.”

It catches her off guard. The honesty. The humility. For a moment, her armor slips—and she lets herself smile. Not the sharp one she wears with drunk guys and rockstars. A real one.

He doesn’t try to kiss her, doesn’t push. Just sits there with his soda and the book between them, like maybe that’s enough.

—

The weeks blur.

Frankie doesn’t know when the shift happened. Maybe it was the way she said you haven’t earned it with a half-smirk and fire in her eyes. Maybe it was the book—how she lit up talking about it, how her voice softened like she forgot to keep her guard up.

So he buys it. Reads it. Not all of it, not at first. Just enough to underline the lines that feel like her. He keeps a notebook in his bag now, scrawled with half-finished lyrics and fragmented thoughts that make no sense unless you’ve been inside his head for weeks.

“you speak like everything’s temporary / but your silence stays with me.”

“she keeps her name locked in her teeth / dares you to ask for the key.”

She haunts him. Not like a ghost—no, Frankie knows ghosts. She’s worse. She’s alive. She’s red hair under cheap bar lights. She’s rolled eyes and soda cans slid across the counter. She’s the only thing that makes him feel sober when he’s high.

But she never lets him all the way in. Even when she laughs at something he says. Even when she leans closer without realizing. Even when she tells him about the professor who once said her words made people feel too much. She always pulls back, just before it gets real.

It drives him mad. Not angry-mad. Addict-mad. Desperate for a hit, and she’s the cleanest thing he’s ever wanted.

So when show night comes, and the green room smells like sweat and spilled beer and Benny passes him a bump, Frankie doesn’t hesitate. The coke floods him like always—confidence, chaos, clarity, then none at all. He’s wired by the time they hit the stage. Sound blaring, blood boiling, eyes darting for her even while he’s mid-solo.

He spots her eventually. Behind the bar. Laughing, not at him.

Some guy’s leaning over the counter, too close. Talking with his hands. She looks uncomfortable—but polite. Frankie sees red. Doesn’t care that the guy’s just a customer. Doesn’t care that they’re mid-set. He drops the guitar mid-song.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, stumbling off the stage.

It happens too fast.

The guy mouths off. Frankie swings. Benny jumps in. Chairs scrape. Bottles crash. Someone throws a punch that wasn’t even meant for them. Suddenly the whole bar erupts. Santi grabs Frankie from behind, pinning his arms before he can lunge again.

“Enough, man. ENOUGH!”

Frankie’s breathing like a wild animal. Coked out and furious. Mind buzzing with static and the taste of blood.

And then—

He sees her.

Across the chaos. Still behind the bar, where she ducked for cover. Her eyes on him, not scared. Worse–disappointed. Like she’s watching something she’d hoped wasn’t true unravel right in front of her.

Donna’s voice cuts through it all. Sharp and final.

“Get out. All of you. You’re done here.”

Frankie doesn’t hear what else she says. Santi’s dragging him toward the door. Benny’s bleeding from the lip. The crowd’s yelling. Cops are probably on the way.

But all he can think about is her gaze.

It follows him out the door. Lingers in his chest even when the cold hits. And for the first time in a long time, Frankie feels something worse than the high wearing off.

He feels shame.

— 

The bar smells like stale beer and regret.

Firefly unlocks the door with a click that echoes louder than it should. Her head throbs from too much adrenaline and not enough sleep. She barely drank last night, but she feels hungover anyway. Emotionally wrung out. The kind of tired that seeps into bone.

She steps inside slowly, like the chaos might still be waiting for her.

The place is trashed. Not totally wrecked, but enough—a few chairs overturned, a crack in one of the front mirrors, and a smear of something dried and dark on the floor near where Benny got hit. Donna stayed late cleaning up most of it, cursing under her breath the whole time. Firefly stayed too, silent, scrubbing until her hands ached, not saying much. Not about him.

The cold air clings to her skin as she props the door open to let in some fresh light, grabs the broom, and starts sweeping. She’s barely a few swipes in when she hears it.

Boots on pavement and she freezes.

Frankie stands there, half-shadow, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s trying to hold himself together with nothing but denim and shame. He looks like hell. Hoodie, sunglasses, hair a mess. The whole hungover rockstar programm. She knows he’s sober—can feel it, somehow. But that doesn’t make it better.

Her heart sinks so fast she almost misses it.

But she straightens, shoulders squared and voice flat, despite her inner turmoil.

“You’re lucky Donna’s not here.”

He flinches like she slapped him. Takes one hesitant step closer but doesn’t cross the threshold.

“I just…” His voice cracks, then clears his throat. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

She stares at him.

Not because she doesn’t believe it but because part of her wants to and that’s the worst part.

“You should go, Frankie.”

“Please,” he says, like he’s begging now. “Just—just let me explain. Let me—”

“No.”

It’s final. Her voice doesn’t shake, even if her hands grabbing the broom do.

“You think I haven’t seen guys like you lose it before?” she says, eyes icey. “You think I haven’t had to clean up after someone who let the high talk louder than their heart?”

He swallows hard, but doesn’t argue. Just stands there, all wrecked and quiet, which is even more deafening somehow.

She doesn’t wait for him to answer. Doesn’t give herself the space to waver—because if she stays in that doorway, looking at him all shattered and sorry, she just might. But this was never her battle to win. Never hers to fix. And it never will be.

Firefly steps past him, into the darkened bar, and flicks on the lights.

Fluorescents hum above her as the door creaks shut behind her, echoing in her ears.

He doesn’t follow. Thank God, he doesn’t follow.

And the second she’s alone, it all crashes. The broom clatters to the floor and her hands tremble even harder. She presses her back against the wall and slides down to the tiles. The first sob rips out before she can stop it, raw and ugly and real.

She wanted to believe he was different. That the quiet nights and stolen conversations meant something.

That maybe she didn’t have to keep everyone at arm’s length forever.

But last night reminded her why the walls exist and why she can’t afford to let them fall.

thanks for reading 💌

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[van1llafairy]

♡*∘ thinking about Ellie inviting you over for a Netflix date...

hearing the chime of a notification, then tapping awake your screen to see a message from your favourite contact saved on your phone, the corners of your lips turn up to a stupid smile you can never help when replying to Ellie's text.

obviously, the first reply that you don't even have to think of when smashing your thumbs to the screen is 'YES CYA' to her 'netflix at mine??' text.

you couldn't get to her dingy apartments quick enough, after a swift knock, the door swung on it's hinges and there stood was an Ellie in a ratty band shirt for PJs, massive grin as you smother yourself in her arms, "nice seeing you too," she snickered in your hair as you couldn't get close enough to her in her hold.

the next hour or so is wastes scrolling through every gloriously horrific trailer Netflix has to offer through all it's platform, with both of you splayed across the couch, tangled with one another, you're draped over her lap, leg thrown over her, her arm clutching you closely, your's loosely encircling her waist, occasionally squeezing whenever you'd both laugh at a shitty line delivered with extravagant poeticness.

"Ugh, God, nothin' good on this dumbass streaming service.." her groans vibrate in her chest and you can feel it buzz as your cheek is mushed against her.

"wait, wait-" you usher, reaching to her lazily propped wrist to yank the controller from her and scroll back to the previous show, "this is true cinema." muttering, you rest back against her chest, as the opening credits roll, "they need to project this on the empire state building some day." Ellie sighs seeing the familiar shots captured, "i swear, you always pick the same movies..." she scratches circles into your scalp, slowly with her words , "...over, and over, and over..."

" cause it's a classic." you muffle between a mouthful of M&Ms, "you should learn to appreciate art in it's purest form." this statement earns the longest eyeroll from Ellie yet, she's setting new records, "i've seen this, like, a hundred times over with you..." she querulously huffs,

"a hundred times lucky then." you're smiling and snuggling closer, its like you're digging into her, burrowing in her warmth.

everything is quiet a moment besides the few strings of intro music, the AC blasting and a few crunches between the two of you as you pop pieces of M&Ms and jellybeans into each other's mouths.

"im just saying, its... y'know, kinda predictable. after the second watch." you huff and deliver a light smack to her arm, "i prefer the term 'safe'."

"boring." she quips and just as you're about to beat on her with a pillow she plucks the remote from your grasp and flicks to another show, "this is what i call 'Art' " she smirks and then another absolutely shitty show no one had ever heard of flashes on the screen.

defeated, you rest back into your human pillow and accept the fate of watching crap for the rest of the evening, her hand rests on the top of your spine. its like this every time you're over for Netflix. the same five shows on rotate depending who's picking, usually it's you.

[arcticwolf144]

A list of some things I noticed during the last matinee of Next to Normal UK

Diana pointed and yelled something from upstairs just before Natalie started singing for the first time. Like “wahey” sort of energy

She also absolutely bellowed “dive in with both feet” an inch from Dan’s face 

Diana was very insistent that Dan not touch her sandwiches. Kept waving him off

While Natalie was singing Everything Else Diana was peeling the crust off bread slices in time with the beat. I’ve never noticed that before so idk if it was a last day thing or if I’ve just missed it until now but it was very funny. 

Natalie looked like she was tearing up in Perfect for You. She was so happy and it was so cute 

Dan juggled three pieces of garlic bread during It’s Gonna Be Good lmao 

Natalie was so distressed during It’s Gonna Be Good. Like going “please get down!” when Diana climbed on the chair and flinching away from the water. She also mouthed “I’m so sorry” to Henry while everyone else was setting the table

I could hear her sobbing as she ran upstairs

Diana was mouthing “fuck off” to herself a lot while Dan was singing I Am the One.

When Diana started yelling Natalie covered her ears and she was sobbing so hard like the hardest I’ve ever seen someone cry on stage oh my god 

Gabe laughed when Natalie came down the stairs in Superboy 

Diana kept mouthing “shut up, shut the fuck up” when Gabe and Natalie started singing together

A lot of tears during Catch Me I’m Falling

Gabe was so horrified when he saw the blood during I’ve Been. Like he came on, knelt down on the stage and was just staring at the floor, at one point with his nose like inches from the stage. I’ve seen various interpretations but to me it always seems like he can’t quite understand what’s happened or how it’s got there. He knows he told Diana to join him but didn’t realise how violent that would be? Idk. But anyway then he curled against the counter crying and combine that with Jamie’s unbelievable acting through song and it was a hard watch

During the first verse of Wish I Were Here Natalie kept reaching for Diana

I think there was a muck up matinee prank happening in the wings on (the audience’s) left. As the island was spinning Trevor, Jack and Jamie seemed to notice something and were trying not to laugh. Like they’d look into the wings, smile a bit, and then they’d look at each other and then really quickly look away. This happened for the whole song every time the stage rotated. Caissie also seemed to do the tiniest double take when she faced that side of the stage.

Jack didn’t leave the stage after Aftershocks he was standing in the farthest box. So you could see Gabe’s silhouette in the far corner while the next scenes were happening which was quite powerful. 

Diana literally went “what the fuck?” when Dr Madden sent her away after telling her about Gabe 

Diana fully gasped as she put the music box down and the intro to How Could I Ever Forget started. 

When Diana moved away from Gabe during I’m Alive (Reprise) she had her hands over her heart and she was crying and just kept mouthing “my baby”. It was heartbreaking. Then the realisation hit her of what it meant and she got scared and ran off.

Gabe started crying even before Diana looked at him during The Break. He went from exhilaration during the first verse to suddenly getting scared when Diana came in with “they tried a million meds…”. For the rest of the song he was trying to get her attention, crawling up and down the counter in tears. Then when she touched him he completely broke down and was clinging onto her and crying so hard. 

He was also crying when he came out from behind the counter

Natalie sobbed out “stop” when Diana kissed her head in Maybe 

I Am the One (Reprise) may deserve its own post but anyway: Gabe was crying from his first lines (Jack was subtly wiping their face on their sleeve between phrases). He absolutely latched onto Dan, and Dan was sob-shouting his lines while Gabe was absolutely screaming his. When Dan pulled away Gabe tried so hard to catch hold of him again so they had this little tussle mid song during the “yeah”s. Dan then backed away, Gabe leaned fully over the side of the counter reaching for him and tried to belt out “I am the one who loved you” with all his soul but his voice broke so badly basically no sound came out until “loved you”. The same happened with the “tried” on the next line. It was absolutely beautiful and so heartbreaking. He then managed to get out the “you’ve always known who I am”, did this massive sobbing gasp afterwards and was just staring at Dan with tears running down his face. “Hi Dad” was so small and cracky it shattered my heart. Dan then slowly walked towards Gabe with his hand outstretched but stopped just before he reached him, and Gabe raised his hand too so their fingers almost touched and that’s when Natalie came in. Gabe then broke down audibly sobbing

Dan started to break when Gabe touched Natalie’s hand but Gabe then stopped at the bottom of the stairs to cry and Dan started absolutely gasping and sobbing and it was so sad. Like he was watching Gabe leave him for a second time and it destroyed him.

Diana was watching Nat and Henry interact in Light which was a lovely moment. She did a kind of “well fair enough” smile when Henry asked if her parents were real 

[s4kura-tr3]

Prince! Satoru Gojo

A lil intro into Prince Gojo

The grand ballroom was alive with music and laughter, the glittering chandeliers casting a golden glow over the assembled royalty and nobles. You had been to countless events like this before—balls meant to foster alliances, display wealth, and reinforce the boundaries of decorum. It was all so predictable, and yet, tonight felt different.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it until he arrived.

Prince Satoru Gojo of the neighboring kingdom was a name whispered with awe and curiosity. Known as much for his striking appearance as his sharp wit, he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. When he stepped into the ballroom, clad in a midnight-blue suit that complemented his snow-white hair, it was as though the room collectively held its breath.

You tried not to stare, but his presence was magnetic. His crystalline blue eyes swept over the crowd, lingering just long enough on each face to make them feel seen before moving on. When his gaze landed on you, however, it didn’t move.

Before you knew it, he was crossing the room, his strides purposeful yet casual, as though he had all the time in the world. The crowd seemed to part for him, and when he finally stopped before you, he offered a smirk that was equal parts charm and mischief.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice smooth and playful. “I was told tonight’s ball would be filled with the most radiant jewels of the kingdoms, but I wasn’t expecting to find the crown jewel herself.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his obvious flattery, though you couldn’t deny the flutter in your chest. “And I suppose you’re the prince charming we’ve all been waiting for?” you replied, matching his tone.

He chuckled, the sound light and effortless. “Prince, yes. Charming? I’ll let you decide.”

You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. “You seem awfully sure of yourself, Your Highness.”

“It’s hard not to be when the most captivating woman in the room is actually talking to me,” he said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

“Careful, Prince Satoru,” you said, tilting your head. “I’m not so easily won over.”

“Good,” he replied, his smirk widening. “I enjoy a challenge.”

He offered his hand, and though every instinct told you to keep your distance from this dangerously charming prince, you found yourself placing your hand in his.

As he led you to the dance floor, the world seemed to blur around you. His touch was firm yet gentle, his movements graceful despite his towering stature. You had danced with countless suitors before, but none of them had made your heart race like this.

“So,” he said as he guided you through a turn, his blue eyes never leaving yours, “are all princesses in your kingdom as sharp-tongued as you, or am I just lucky tonight?”

“Lucky?” you repeated, arching a brow. “I’d say the jury’s still out on that.”

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “Fair enough. But I’ll take my chances.”

The dance ended far too soon, but as the music faded, Satoru didn’t let go of your hand right away. Instead, he leaned in, his voice low and teasing.

“You may think I’m here for alliances and politics,” he said, his gaze piercing, “but I have to admit, meeting you has made tonight far more interesting than I expected.”

Before you could respond, he pressed a light kiss to the back of your hand, his lips brushing your skin just enough to leave you breathless.

“I’ll be seeing you, Princess,” he said, stepping back with a wink before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you with the undeniable feeling that the night—and your life—had just become infinitely more complicated.

[graceofagodswrath]

Ok ok ok your "Humans of Transformers franchise are space orcs" rant is out of this world.

I detest with passion when humans are reduced to pets and plot devices when instead the story could be about two alien species finding one another equally amazing/terrifying for their own respective reasons.

Here is my question: do humans and Cybertronians see how eerily similar they are? They have love of music, familial relationships, similar urban infrastructure, societal structure, financial systems, competitive entertainment, organized societies and war, colonialism, recreational intercourse, marriage...

Not to mention, why was it never addressed how similar both species look: bipedal, waists, noses, cheekbones, 5 fingers, chins, facial expressions and sense of aesthetics and beauty? Sure, humans have hair but in rather strategic places.

Veins and wires, blood and energon, metal and flesh, nanobytes and blood cells, Sparks and brain impulses, sexual organs...

Imagine Autobots arrive on Earth for the first time expecting some primitive cave-dwellers, only to encounter a less advanced mini-version of Cybertronian cities (New York, Singapore, London, Rome, Tokyo, Rio, Dubai...) and societies running on scientific, artistic and philosophical development which has no right existing on the ruthless, all-organic planet such as Earth is. Societes run by creatures who 4.000.000 (the duration of their war) years ago were hanging from the trees btw.

Autobots would be terrified.

Lemme make sure this response saves this time, cause it took me a minute to answer cause my first deleted and I had so much written I got unbelievably angry and refused to even look at the tumblr app.

But here we are.

So, this is EXACTLY what I have been thinking about for who k owe how long. It’s also the intro to this wack as fuck universe idea I’ve had in my head a while, and have kinda hinted at in my other works, but I’ve never gone into detail about.

And I still won’t.

Anyways, yes. It’s crazy that we backlit humans so much when any other sentient species is about. Transformers, TMNT, etc (I’m on a one track mind, feel free to jot down any other fandoms I can’t think of). The main theme of these stories? HUMANS SUCK. And that is severely unfair. People want to cry about how much our generation doesn’t give a shit anymore. Have you SEEN the media we feed kids???

That’s why I live Humans are Space Orcs so much. It really puts into perspective how unique and batshit our species is.

So, onto the Transformers vs humans concepts. The ONLY reason (forgoing technoism and general hate towards organics) cybertronians don’t see humanity as an imminent threat, or one in general, is because of size. WE BE SMALL AF. Can’t blame them, I get it. We do the same. Insects? Fuck them mfs.

But have you seen a botfly or tick burrow into your skin? The infection that comes form that? Have you seen ants jump a small animal as a colony and absolutely shred it? Or a spider only biting you, and the horror the venom causes (recluses and huntsman’s specifically). We have a good fucking reason for disliking these mfs.

But transformers? These are organic experiences. Worst they go through are rust infections, spark death, the works. They are not at risk the same way we are. That is why they view organics as small and inconsequential. They have no idea how hard we fight to simply stay alive.

And now the similarities. It’s understandable that they wouldn’t immediately recognize the physical, cultural, and psychological similarities between our species. Transformers are an incredibly diverse race, like any other. But specifically in physical form. Your average cybertronian holds a similar appearance to your average human. We tend to have the same features, just with different names. Eyes, noses, faceplates, ears, two arms, two legs. Sure that’s average for them too. But they are unique because of the fact that they have two forms. Vehicle mode. Their mode decides what they’re second mode looks like, which can create extreme diversity is appearance. Small, large, many limbed or not.

So the immediate similarities probably wouldn’t jump out to them in an odd way. There’s also the idea that because they’re so spread out in the universe, they’ve seen other organic races that are also similar. Pairs of every body part could be the common denominator among species.

That goes culturally too. War, love, music, government, politics, it’s all a natural form of sentient evolution. Another common denominator. It’s how it’s done that makes it unique. And the similarities between human and cybertronian culture is uncomfortably familiar.

I think that’s why cybertronians are seen being closest with humans rather than other species in the shows and comics (obviously because the audience is human and they need relation to characters but shhhh forget that for a sec). This is where the theories start.

Let’s say cybertronians begin to recognize the weird similarities between our species. The really, really weird stuff. The itty bitty details. Like:

- how we also mainstream kissing on the lips as the top tier romantic gesture.

- use verbal tone and cues for our language.

- have intensely complicated interpersonal relationships in the exact same manner.

- suffer from extreme mental health issues like depression, anxiety, PTSD (I totally headcannon that forms of adhd, autism, and ocd exist in cybertronian society, have y’all not seen my boy rodimus prime??)

- will also destroy each other in the name of our gods, until we have a common enemy.

That’s just the basics I could come up with. The only time I actually saw a moment where a transformer genuinely take a moment to realize that humans can be a threat, was in transformers prime. Episode 6 of beast wars (I think, correct me if wrong), where Miko beats the ever loving fuck out of an insecticon (I think) and upon Megatron hearing this, just goes blank Kubrick stare for a hot second. Man had an ugly realization that did not fit in with anything he had experienced his whole life.

AND THEY NEVER FUCKING ADDRESSED IT EVER AGAIN. Sick of this shit. Could’ve had the most badass character development, where the humans actually proved useful and did something (it would have fit Milo’s character so perfectly too) and scared the utter shit out of the transformers. BUT NO. They continue to be annoying as fuck.

One thing I loved about TF Prime was that it canonically turned Unicron into Earth. And humans came from the earth. Which relates humans beings and cybertronians so hard. Cousins Fr. We are the cybertronian equivalent of organics, and transformers the inorganic equivalent of humans. The individuality, the chaos, the culture, it clicks. There is so much material to really go into it.

But they never do. Don’t get me wrong, I love Transformers lord and just discovering more without humans being involved. We’re just annoying af at this point. But there is so much u tapped potential in transformers actually taking the chance to LEARN about us. But we’re just friends (pets) to these mfs.

That’s why I love TF Earthspark so far. Transformers ingrained into human culture because they’re not from Cybertron, and cybertronians having to adapt to human culture because they have no where else to go. Granted, it’s a kids show. There’s only so much they can do. But I’m excited for where it’ll lead. It really shows how much of threat and ally humans are, and how we are just as diverse as cybertronians.

I need to write another fic about cybertronians meeting humans their size from our world tho. Need to continue my old piece. Would give me so much life. Y’all help motivate me, college draining my ass.

[letthemkook]

Unsaid Yoongi M.YG

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst, Slow Burn, Romantic Drama, Realism Inspired by He’s Just Not That Into You (2009)

Setting: Present-day urban; mutual friend group; early 30s characters

Intro: In the quiet between texts, in the space between almost and enough,

you built a love story out of crumbs he didn’t know he was leaving.

⸻

You’ve known Min Yoongi for five years.

You’re not friends, exactly. But you exist in the same ecosystem—group dinners, concerts, the occasional birthday trip where someone ends up drunk and someone else ends up confessing things they won’t remember.

He’s the quiet one. Dry humor, hands in his pockets, always leaving just early enough that you never get a real goodbye. You’ve never seen him lose his temper or raise his voice. But he always remembers how you like your coffee.

Which is why you think he might like you.

Or not.

Because he’s also the guy who takes three days to answer a text. Who dodges one-on-one plans like they’re invitations to jury duty. Who hugs everyone except you—offering only a slight nod and the occasional shoulder bump.

But then he said you looked good in green.

And you spiraled.

⸻

You ask your friend Jimin about it over soju.

“He said I looked good in green. Like—he stopped walking to say it. You think that means something?”

Jimin blinks. “You do look good in green.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what’s the point?”

You sigh, staring into your glass. “The point is he remembered I wore green to my interview two weeks ago and asked how it went. Doesn’t that mean something?”

Jimin shrugs. “I think it means he’s not a dick.”

You pout. “That’s not helpful.”

He laughs. “Okay, fine. You want the truth?”

You nod.

“If Yoongi wanted to date you,” Jimin says gently, “he’d be dating you.”

⸻

You try to let it go.

You go on bad dates with good guys. You stop wearing green. You delete your chat thread with Yoongi so you’ll stop checking if he’s online. You tell yourself it’s not a big deal.

But then he shows up at your birthday dinner.

Late, of course. With a gift.

A signed vinyl from your favorite indie band.

The one that broke up last year.

The one he shouldn’t have been able to find.

Your friends tease you. “Yoongi went vintage hunting for you?”

He shrugs it off. “It wasn’t that hard.”

But he doesn’t look at you when he says it.

And now you’re back where you started.

⸻

Later that night, when the party thins out and the noise softens, you find him outside. Sitting on the curb with a cigarette he hasn’t lit.

“Why do you do that?” you ask.

“Do what?”

You sit beside him.

“This. The halfway thing. The almost-thing.”

He stares ahead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.”

A long pause.

Then: “Because you’re the kind of person who deserves someone all-in. And I’ve never been good at that.”

You blink. “So what? You like me, but not enough?”

“I like you,” he says. “Too much to hurt you. Not enough to be what you want.”

And somehow, that hurts more than if he’d said he felt nothing at all.

⸻

You cry on the train home.

Because sometimes, people do like you. They care. They remember your favorite color and your music taste and that you hate winter.

But they still don’t choose you.

And that doesn’t make them bad.

It just makes them not yours

6 months go by.

You stop waiting for him to text first.

You stop turning to him when something good happens, or something bad, or something that used to only feel real after you’d said it aloud to him. You stop reaching, and when he doesn’t reach back, it confirms what you already knew:

He was never yours.

⸻

Your life doesn’t fall apart.

It gets better, actually.

You start writing again. You take a class. You meet someone new. His name’s Hyunwoo, and he holds doors open without making it a metaphor. He listens. He calls when he says he will. And when he tells you he wants to see you again, he doesn’t follow it with an apology or a three-day silence.

Yoongi doesn’t know about him.

Not yet.

⸻

The first time you see Yoongi again is at Namjoon’s wedding.

You didn’t think he’d show. You’d stopped assuming he’d show up for anything that mattered. But there he is, hair shorter, black suit rumpled like he slept in it, jaw sharp and mouth tight when he sees you.

And when he sees the hand holding yours.

Hyunwoo offers his name. Yoongi shakes it. Briefly. Politely. Then walks away before the awkwardness can thicken.

You don’t follow him.

But you feel him watching you the whole night.

⸻

Later, when the dancing dies down and the sky goes pink with late spring dusk, you find him sitting alone on a bench near the edge of the garden.

You don’t want to go to him.

But you do.

He doesn’t look up.

“I heard your podcast,” he says. “The one about wanting something you couldn’t have.”

You pause. “I didn’t say it was about you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Silence stretches.

Then: “I was a coward.”

You blink.

He finally looks at you. There’s something behind his eyes now—less fog, more ache.

“I thought I was protecting you from me. But maybe I was just protecting me from you. From how much it would’ve hurt if I let you close and still couldn’t be enough.”

“You weren’t supposed to be perfect, Yoongi,” you whisper. “You just had to try.”

“I didn’t know how to try for something I didn’t think I deserved.”

You swallow. “So what now?”

He exhales.

“I want to say I’m ready now. That I’d do it right this time. But…”

“But you saw someone holding my hand.”

He nods. “And I realized—I had every chance. And I waited.”

⸻

You let that hang between you. Like fog. Like fate. Like all the unsaid things you’d both clung to for too long.

Then you whisper, “I would’ve ruined myself for you.”

Yoongi doesn’t flinch.

But his voice cracks when he says, “I know.”

You stand.

Leave him on the bench.

And you don’t look back.

⸻

Because not every love story ends in a grand confession.

Sometimes, it ends in quiet.

In someone finally meaning what they said too late.

And someone else learning how to let go without apologizing for how deeply they felt.

Epilogue: “If I Had Said It Then”

(Unsent Letter — Min Yoongi → You)

⸻

You’ll never read this.

That’s the whole point.

But maybe if I write it down, it won’t press so hard against my ribs.

Maybe it’ll stop echoing when I see someone wearing green. When I pass your train stop. When someone laughs like you used to—head thrown back, not afraid to take up space.

⸻

You were right.

I was halfway.

Always just a little too close, a little too late.

But what I never told you—what I couldn’t say back then—was that I loved you in a way I didn’t know how to name. Not softly. Not in poems or pretty promises. I loved you like a quiet panic. Like holding breath. Like knowing I was in the presence of something I could never deserve.

So I stayed distant.

Tried to stay harmless.

Tried to be the guy who noticed without needing to be noticed.

But you ruined that.

You were so bright.

And I got used to your warmth.

Like a plant bending toward a window it would never reach.

⸻

I saw your face at Namjoon’s wedding and felt it in my stomach—how much time had passed. You looked… good. He looked good with you. Solid. Steady. Everything I wasn’t when you needed me.

And when you said you would’ve ruined yourself for me?

That broke me.

Because I already had. Quietly. In the long spaces between your messages. In the nights I played your favorite records alone. In the moments I could’ve tried harder but didn’t, because I thought my absence would hurt you less than my failure.

I was wrong.

⸻

If you ever wonder: yes.

Yes, I wanted you.

Yes, I think I could’ve loved you right if I’d let myself earlier.

Yes, I still think about you when it rains.

But I won’t send this.

Because I let you go when I still had a chance to hold on.

And now, you finally have someone who holds on.

So I’ll carry this letter instead.

Folded in my chest.

Like every word I never said when it still mattered.

[gucciwins]

Not Another Rockstar

A/N: this is short but I love everything about it! if you love this, please let me know. might have to turn it into a mini series 🤭

+

Harry didn’t want to go out but Paul insisted. Something about supporting his girlfriend’s friend band. He wasn’t even sure who he was there for. All he knew was that he would be getting free pint’s from their good friend Ayo all night long. 

It was a small venue that resembled more of a bar than a concert venue. Whatever band was playing had a lot of fans because it was crowded. Harry remained at a corner table with Paul and Adam. They were chatting about Mitch’s wedding happening in a few months. Harry was the best man and by the looks of it would be attending alone. Everyone had told him to take anyone as a date but it was an important night for Mitch and him. He couldn’t take a random stranger. Plus he liked the idea of getting drunk and not remembering the night after his speech. 

“What’s the group's name?” Harry found himself asking after the opener finished his five songs. 

“Cleopatra," Adam told him. 

Interesting name.

He wasn’t sure how long until the show was to begin but he needed to take a piss. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

The men brushed him off. Harry had never been to this place and could not find the restroom to save his life. There were no signs anywhere so Harry kept walking aimlessly. He somehow made it through a door but it only led him to a long corridor 

“And who might you be?” A woman called out behind him.

Harry turned around to find the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He knew she was talking to him as the hallway was empty. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Harry never had a problem with the ladies. He was a charming person but at this moment it’s as if he’s never spoken to a woman before. 

“Uh, Harry. I’m Harry. Was looking for the men’s room.”

She bit back a smile, “thought they had those out front, not backstage.” 

“It’s my first time here,” he confessed. “Should have asked for help. Am I going to get kicked out now?”

The pretty lady shakes her head. “No, you’re lucky you found me and not Annabelle. She’s not as kind.”

“True to her name then.” 

She cocks her head, “excuse me?” 

Harry curses under his breath. He fucked this up. “Like the horror movie, Annabelle. She’s kind of uh a lot.” 

She nods as if taking in his words. “Never made that connection. But yes, there’s a bit of truth to that.” 

“I uh-I-I ha-ave to get back.” 

“So soon,” she pouts. 

“The show. I’m here for the show.” 

She smirks, “I hope you enjoy.”

Harry starts to walk away when she calls his name. He turns around to find her leaning against the wall. “The name’s Y/N. I’ll find you after the show," she promises. And like that she’s gone. 

He’s left in a daze. Harry manages to find his way to his friends but when he does there is a new drink on the table. He doesn’t think twice before chugging it down. 

“Wow, you okay, man?” Paul looks at him confused.

“Fine,” Harry breathes out.

Adam pats him on his back, “show’s starting in a few minutes.” 

Harry is thankful, something to take his mind off of her. 

Before Harry can get lost in thought the lights go dark and the screams erupt in the room. The drums are the first thing to start then come in the guitars. It's a nice intro, he's going to look up their music once he's home. A pink light shines on stage for a few seconds before landing on the lead singer and an angelic room fills his ears. 

As his eyes focus on the band on stage, he feels his heart stop when he spots the girl from backstage. Y/N is center-stage singing to a mesmerized crowd.

She has a blue guitar strapped to her front. She’s wearing a red corset that makes her boobs look like every man’s dream. She paired it with a black mini skirt of similar material. Her red lips have him enthralled as she sings into the microphone. The crowd is entirely hers. She's prancing around owning the stage knowing that every person in the room has their eyes on her.

Harry knows he’s screwed. Their is no way he’d have a chance with her not when he feels he fucked it up.

[rinrobofiles]

⊹˚. ♡ lesmis media dump/rant ㅤ/ᐠ - ˕ -マ

(*´▽`*) not all the thingies i have in my phone but some of my faves, esp the javert uniform one, THAT ONE got me in a chokehold i could go on and on about how well the color suits him …. i would kill to be able to wear something like that…❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 btw someone watch lm78 with me please???? ive seen like a good amount of edits on tiktok and IM SO OBSESSED WHAT. THAT JAVERT WAS PERFECT hes so autistic and gay hes so me ☹️ thank gawd i wasnt born ina prison tho ❤️‍🩹 sorry anyways

૮(˶╥︿╥)ა theres this one edit that i rlly like and the intro is like javert turning to walk away with his cane and that turn was SO FUCKING ELEGANT??-!!!! ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) LIKE HOW DO YOU casually do that??!!!! id kill to get that posture its like such a subtle turn but its just screams authority and ELEGANCE ugh. I BET HE WEARS A FUCKING CORSET .o(≧∀≦)o🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵 ☹️ everyone say thank you to Anthony Perkins for giving us THE javert ever!!!(i think..) ngl the musical was more fun to watch bc music and visuals n stuff BUT 1978 WAS GOLDDDDDD ❤️‍🩹 also DID YOU KNOW ANTHONY WAS OPENLY GAY no wonder why he played javert so well TAT) ugh i love him i live for him my FUCKING ICON. hes my role model my everything i want the way he walks the way he talks the everythingdjdjdk ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚ 🩵🩵 imo lm78 javert is the best big screen javert ever yayayayay!!!!!!!! (っ‘ω`c)

( • ̀ω•́ ) ⭐️“whats that speak up..ppl speak aloud.. to me:3” 🎀 ALRIGHT FAGGOT why did he sound so cute during that scene tho…. like bro said “to meee—~” to valjean like okay inspector hes still not gonna speak up hes gonna fall in love though….

“i will not(? maybe he said never but i forgot) give up the search for jean valjean, even if it takes me my life—“ OR SOMETHING ALONG THOSE LINES?!-!-!! i havent even watched it yet but the edits are emough to make me go crazy ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 ꒰⑅ •̥ ꒳ •̥ ⑅꒱ ·° LIKE SERIOUSLY ugh. inspector.

(╥﹏╥) ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ goes crazy and overdoses on valvert…. thank u anthony perkins i love u sm…❤️‍🩹

( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ if youre still here thank u so much for reading… 🪽 ill be back soon…

(⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝) after lm78 ill try reading the lesmis manga by arai takahiro!-??

[her-stargirl]

Unknown Dances

Mizu x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Mizu has culture shock while also having to attempt to fit in, however she ends up making a friend at a noble ball.

authors note: I literally researched about 17th century court dancing for this guys (I already knew a little from my intro to dance class but not nearly enough)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cultural differences between Japan and London were so striking to Mizu that it took her two days to to understand a small bit of it. From what she had heard a ball of noblemen was being held and she thought that would be just the place she could find her next target.

She used Fowler as her way in since she assumed he was probably quite well respected among white people.

Mizu scanned over the party, she felt, strange wearing such an odd English outfit however to stay discreet she needed to look the part.

There's a band in the corner about to start a new song and the way people are locking eyes it feels as though they all know what song will be next. They begin finding partners and Mizu feels a tap on her shoulder.

A girl with her hair tied back into a beautiful updo, wearing a yellow ballgown is standing there. "I'm sorry I couldn't help but notice you look lost..have you never seen this dance before?" The girl seems nice. "Here follow me I'll help you," she gently takes Mizu by the hand and pulls her over to the two lines already forming. One of women and one of men.

Mizu was dropped off in the middle of the line of men, she didn't like this, she needed to get back on track. She had no idea was she was doing and-

The music starts.

She looks down at the feet of the man in front of her and follows as the man circles in front of his parter and back to his spot, then waits as her partner, the unnamed girl in the yellow dress, circles around her. One arm holding out her skirt, the other close to her chest.

This is all to stressful, she looks at the girl with a worried expression, however the gaze is not reciprocated because the girl is having the time of her life, smiling, laughing.

Mizu thinks the girl might laugh herself to death however the music stops and the girl turns to Mizu, "That was fun wasn't it?" Mizu is bright red with embarrassment? anxiety? she didn't quite know.

"Ah, you look ill come with me," the girl tries to grab Mizu's hand again. "No! I don't know you and yet you keep dragging me around, I demand at least a name!"

The girl looked surprised for a minute, a look of 'oh! a foreigner maybe that's why they were so confused!' but she soon snapped out of it "Goodness I'm sorry, my name is y/n..I'm also sorry for dragging you into something you don't know well people usually catch on quicker than you did."

Mizu felt her body destress a bit however she kept her gaze sharp, "Its..a pleasure to meet you y/n.." Mizu said, still quite unsure.

"Likewise" y/n says smiling patiently.

"Well y/n if you'll excuse me I have some um..important business to attend to," Mizu turns to walk away, face still red from embarrassment.

"Alright..um..I'll see you later then," y/n says in a somewhat upset voice, she hoped that this wouldn't be the last time they see each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mizu's plan was beginning to prove unsuccessful, everyone she had talked to had little to no info. She found herself back in the large ballroom.

She stared out at the crowd of people, and there she was, the girl in the yellow dress. Still dancing, still smiling. Mizu was envious.

She felt, compelled to that girl, as if she was out loud saying 'Mizu, come over here and dance! you're wound so tight!'

Before Mizu even thought about it she was already out on the floor taking y/n's hand, "May I dance with you?" she asks in a calm yet alluring voice.

Y/n just smiles politely and nods, taking Mizu's hand and swaying softly, "I'm sorry for coming off so," y/n pauses trying to find the right word, "strongly earlier" She gives Mizu an awkward gaze.

"I'm just not used to people taking a strong liking so fast," Mizu says, attempting to hold eye contact however she's fairly bad at it because she's focused on how her feet are moving.

The song comes to an end and people disperse, this time Mizu is the one to pull y/n. The two walk down the hall to a quieter spot. Mizu was acting so fast she didn't quite know what she was even doing she-

"I'm sorry I don't know why I pulled you off to the side, you can go back if you'd like," the words come out however she doesn't want them to.

"No its ok, I'll stay here," y/n says, "I need a minute away from the action" she lets out a soft chuckle.

Its quiet for only a minute but feels like forever before the silence is broken, "I'm going to be painfully honest I was drawn to you because of your eyes...not because you looked lost," y/n says "they're just so unique and such a beautiful color."

Mizu felt her cheeks flush hot and fast, "thank you...? wait um, you're welcome? no that's not right eith-" y/n cuts Mizu off with a loud, joy filled laugh. "I know what you meant don't worry."

Mizu inhales sharply, "That color..yellow, it's beautiful on you" Mizu rushes the words out, she's never felt like this.

"Thank you," y/n says with a polite and delicate smile.

Another song is beginning back in the main ballroom, "This is my favorite!! lets go!" y/n says looping her arm around Mizu's. Once again dragging her off to dance.

[mrs-explosionn]

(Better) Obligatory Intro Post

🩵 My name is Catherine, she/her (cis woman), age 25, bisexual, white

🩵 This is a Metalocalypse only special interest blog, for Dethklok and my yumeship husband Nathan Explosion.

🩵 I understand English🇬🇧 and mid level Swedish🇸🇪

🩵 Pro-LGBTQ+, Pro-trans rights, Pro-Palestine, anti-racism. If you disagree, please block me.

🩵 NO “maps” or n*zis or bigoted/creepy crap

🩵 NO pro/compshipping, please

🩵 I draw stuff! Mostly character art/studies/memes of Dethklok and Metalocalypse related junk/self-inserts.

🩵 I DO NOT post/reblog NSFW/explicit but there may be a shirtless man or “suggestive theme” every so often. I guess 15,16+ for the content would be a good reccomendation? (Rated T for Teen?) Basically nothing more explicit that what is seen on the show. My drawings may also have some minor blood (no extreme gore like the cartoon) and catholic/satanic imagery/symbolism if those bother anyone. I have no other socials that aren’t completely seperate/ private. I am trying to be less shy with my special interests.

🩵 My ask inbox is open! (Please be kind)

💕Yumeship details:💕

🩵 Ship name: Natherine/Heartsplosion

🩵 Status: Married (privately)

🩵 Sharing/Doubles OK?: Yes! I must connect with my fellow silly Nathan stans

Stay metal, keep fighting. 🤘🏻

((Some Extra blog lore under the cut, tw: mental illness, breakups, death mentioned))

I have loved Dethklok/Metalocalypse for 13+ years now and never really admitted it. I started this blog to cope with the worst breakup of my life after a difficult living situation, and realizing how many years I’ve lost to severe mental illness. I’m normally a pretty private person due to fear but I’ve been thinking a lot about who I am and what I’m doing with my life. I want to share my interests with people and I just want to stop being anxious or embarrassed about things I’m passionate about. I am very weird and also listen to music constantly, play a lot of video games, and I’m trying to get back into playing music/singing.

I felt really alone when I was younger, at school, at home, and I would watch Metalocalypse and wish the boys were my awesome friends. I did have 2 close friends in high school, but they just kinda ‘didn’t get’ Dethklok, or I just didn’t really have the energy to share. Well now I’m back for a third hyperfixation go-around and I’m not holding it in anymore📢📢

Not to sound ‘brutal’, but I could (go forth and) die at any point from anything (my allergies, falling pianos, meteors, etc.) and I am just done worrying myself sick, wasting years over things that won’t happen, past trauma that’s not happening anymore, religious anxiety, people I don’t know or people that don’t exist. I hope this blog helps me heal. But yeah, welcome to my cesspool of weirdness!