#rehearsal alts

[corkinavoid]

Not an ask of any kind, I'd just like to mention that Brainrot Dead Tired has taken over, and now when I think of Rock Alt Danny, I picture Tim Drake as his biggest fan.

Oh, yes, he totally is.

Tim listens to all the songs, some of them on repeat. He has the unofficial merch (because neither Danny nor Ember bothered to make anything official, it's too much trouble). He fanboys over Danny because whatever short video recordings he can find, all feature Danny being a cheeky but friendly-teasing brat, and Tim loves the vibe. And the looks. Definitely the looks.

It's kind of a celebrity crush, only Ember's band is not that popular to be actual celebrities.

And then Bruce comes home, and Tim reviews the footage and has an honest to god heart attack at the sight of Danny and Ember performing in the Watchtower in order to get rid of the alien invasion.

He is going to stalk John motherfucking Constantine until he gives Tim the means to contact Danny. He has no idea what he is going to do with it, but he needs it.

[homuraakemis]

Like mother, like son.

1x06 || 3x04

[jackmkelly]

like 2 years ago i watched this video and when i went looking for it again i fear i discovered it got deleted HOWEVER luckily for everyone involved i have tiny bits and pieces in my google photos. anyway! whatever radio disney walk on role whatever. can i say something about oscar morris and otto on stage bc.. i mean if there was three…

[meraki-yao]

I think because RWRB is so far the only (live-action) movie I watched on repeat to the point of losing count (and honestly a lot of that was because we didn't have any other promo stuff so I could only pour over the movie over and over again), plus I'm starting to learn a little more about movie making/ storytelling, RWRB has made me hyper-aware of the movie making/ shooting aspect

So looking back at the Paris scene, there are two main ways they framed the shot (besides that pointed shot of Henry's hand training down Alex's back and pressing him in)

Parallel to the boys (either up to their torso or extreme close up on their faces)

and over Alex/Taylor's shoulder, a close-up of Henry/Nick's face

And it got me thinking about the shooting process and I have a question:

Was the shooting process shooting the whole scene (so from kissing to Henry's pressing down to insertion to building up) in one angle, and then repeating the whole scene in another? Or is it two cameras simultaneously?

Because if it's a former, that means not only are there multiple takes of the scene as per standard movie shooting, but THERE'S ALSO THE WHOLE SCENE IN ANGLES WE HAVEN'T SEEN

*URGE TO STEAL RWRB HARD DRIVE FROM PRIME INTENSIFIEs

Seriously I need more behind-the-scenes talks and videos from these movie

[jils-things]

happy mothers day to my first and best momma concept ever designed 💚💚

[meganechan05]

A chilly night in Ishabana as its former Queen continued to try her best to sell flowers. Not a day goes by for her to regret her actions that led to such fate as she wished she could fix everything.

The only thing that kept her going was the mysterious stranger that vaguely resembled the former Chief Justice paying a visit. She doubts it would ever be them since they're too popular to ever look her way. Not that they ever looked at her even as Queen.

"Been waiting long, Princess?" they asked, getting close to her.

She couldn't stop her face from reddening and her heart beating hard against her chest. They never hesitated on being so close to her since the first night they met but she always allowed it.

She felt them take her hand, a warm smile on their face. "Come on. I know a place for dinner. After, I'll buy all your flowers. That sound good?"

She nervously nodded. The Immovable Chief Justice would never make such offers because of their impartiality. The planet's Top Singer also held such ideals so their fans would never feel one would be favored over the other.

But they were willing to make an exception.

[alt-wannabe]

$130 dollars a month for the parking pass i need somebody save me

[disappointingcabbage]

Guess who just realized they never posted their Halloween look?

✨me✨

Anyway I’m doing it now because I looked hot as fuck

[keelin-it]

I had a horribly bad fight with my mom today and she turned it into a pity fest for herself and threw a tantrum. I told her she was childish for behaving the way she has been and then I left and she went and told my whole family a bunch of lies like how I cussed her out and that I am excluding her from the wedding and wedding planning to spite her. My little sister texted me trying to act grown up and defended my mom so then I had to tell my side and explain to her how manipulative my mom is and of course my sister doesn't believe me so now my mom and my sister may not show up to my wedding at all

[beansprean]

happy valentimes day :')

My Familiar’s Ghost part 91

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. High shot of the cage, the back wall casting a long grid shadow across the floor. Guillermo is still sitting on the cot, watching as Nandor mumbles to himself and paces around, agitated. 1b. Waist up of Nandor, facing away from Guillermo with his hands on his hips, eyes closed and face flushed. He psyches himself up, breathing deeply and whispering 'Okay, okay, okay,' to himself. Behind him on the cot, Guillermo is leaning his face on his hand, looking a little bored. 1c. Close up on Nandor as he whips around suddenly with a determined expression, snapping, 'Guillermo!' Offscreen, Guillermo startles, 'Ah! Yes?' 1d. Full body of Nandor standing in front of Guillermo, who is still sitting on the cot and leaning forward in interest. Nandor has one fist pressed to his heart and announces, as if previously rehearsed, 'It was very brave of you to express your feelings of love toward me, even though you had every reason to believe you would disappear and those feelings would not be reciprocated.' 1e. Knees up of Guillermo on the cot, looking at the floor while his hand taps nervously at his knee. He mumbles, 'Not brave enough to let you say anything back...' 1f. Repeat. Guillermo looks up as Nandor takes his tapping hand in his and raises it to guide him. Nandor replies, 'Then allow me to do so now.'

2a. Shoulders up of them both in profile as Nandor leads Guillermo to standing. The cage walls are visible behind them, as well as a ghostly blue version in the background behind the panels. Nandor raises his chin and holds Guillermo's hand up between them, his other gesturing vaguely as he says, 'I am much braver than you generally, so it is only right that I express those words as well. To you.' Guillermo smiles at him encouragingly. 2b. Nandor places his free hand on top of their joined ones and stares resolutely at the ceiling, cheeks flushed. He continues, 'I think you are kind and clever and have an ass that simply will not quit. So. I have many feelings. About you. One in particular.' Guillermo snorts softly, amused but fond. 2c. Repeat. Nandor falls silent, wide eyes meeting Guillermo's nervously as the other waits patiently. 2d. Repeat. Guillermo leans forward with a teasing grin and asks, '...Was that it?' Nandor cringes, face scrunching up in frustration as he snaps back, 'No! Augh!'

3a. Shoulders up of Nandor as he covers his eyes and turns his back on Guillermo, embarrassed. He admits, 'I do not have good experience saying these things.' Behind him, Guillermo shrugs with a sad smile and looks toward the ground, playing with his fingers. He replies, 'I know, it's okay. You don't have to-' Nandor interrupts him, 'No, you deserve to hear it.' 3b. Chest up of Nandor from Guillermo's POV as he turns back around and hesitantly removes his hands from his face, bashful. The ghostly blue image of the cage behind him begins to warp as a golden glow fades in. Nandor looks shyly up at Guillermo from beneath his lashes and says 'It made me very, very happy when you said it to me. Though it was not a very happy moment in general. And I...' 3c. Reverse shot, chest up of Guillermo. Nandor continues from offscreen, '...I want to make you happy. Even more than myself, sometimes.' Guillermo reacts strongly to this, rearing back in surprise. Tears spring suddenly to his eyes. Behind him, the golden glow strengthens and bursts, tearing the ghostly cage to shreds. 3d. Shoulders up of them both in profile, the background now cage-free in mottled copper and gold. Guillermo, smiling, removes his glasses to wipe his sleeve over his eyes. Nandor steps forward and calls his name in concern, one hand hovering uncertainly. 3e. Repeat. Guillermo composes himself and slides his glasses back on, saying, ''Go on, I'm listening.' Nandor smiles fondly at this, shoulders relaxing, and reaches up a hand toward Guillermo's downturned face. 3f. Shoulders up of Guillermo looking upward in surprise as Nandor's hand comes into frame to brush the backs of his fingers against his cheek. The colors are slowly warming. 3g. Repeat. Warmer. Nandor turns his hand to cup his palm against Guillermo's face and Guillermo leans into the contact like a cat, closing his eyes and nuzzling into it with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to clutch at Nandor's sleeve. Offscreen, Nandor murmurs, 'My...most precious Guillermo...' 3h. Repeat. Warmer still. Nandor has both hands on Guillermo's cheeks now, framing his face as Guillermo nestles in with a contented smile, eyes closed, hands gripping Nandor's forearms.

4. Wide shot, waist up, of them both in profile, a warm golden glow erupting behind them and washing away the dingy rusted blue of the dungeon beyond. They are lined with golden-pink light soft, warm colors. Nandor, hands still on Guillermo's cheeks, leans forward and bows his head to press their foreheads lovingly together. Their eyes are closed, cheeks flushed, reverence in their expressions. Nandor says, 'I dream of eternity with no one else. I love you. I am in love with you.' /end ID

[valeisaslut]

can we get some more background on collide’s ellie before the story started? lowkey curious about her groupie days hahaha

THANK YOU GORG NONNIE I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE THIS. TURN IT UPPPP

Rockstar!ellie williams’ life before you came crashing into it was already wild in its own right. the fireflies started as this messy little project in high school, just three angsty teenagers skipping class to rehearse in jesse’s garage and dream too big. but from the very beginning, ellie had that thing. that frontwoman energy. raw, magnetic, loud when she wanted to be and quiet in the moments that mattered.

of course, being joel miller’s daughter didn’t hurt either. the joel miller—rock legend, guitarist god, literal music royalty. she grew up with guitars in every corner of the house, got her first custom pedal at twelve, and was getting dropped off at school in a vintage mustang with the windows down and her dad blasting nirvana like he wasn’t a whole icon. people were paying attention before she even opened her mouth.

their debut album dropped when she was barely nineteen and it exploded. like, charts on fire, critics losing their minds, fans already tattooing lyrics on their ribs kind of explosion. it was rough and loud and painfully honest, and people ate it up. suddenly the fireflies were everywhere—magazine covers, award shows, late night interviews where ellie would always roll her eyes and let dina do the talking.

and ellie? ellie was living like a rockstar. full-speed. full-chaos. she had girls lined up at every venue, backstage passes tucked into her back pocket like candy. groupies every night, different cities, different names she couldn’t remember in the morning. she wasn’t cruel about it, just detached. like she knew how to give people a night they’d remember forever, while she forgot it the second it was over.

there were stories, obviously. ellie williams didn’t just flirt with the whole sex-drugs-rock-and-roll lifestyle—she practically rebranded it.

like the time in chicago, where she went MIA a few hours before the show and no one could find her. security was panicking, dina was pacing, and jesse was one call away from having a heart attack—until ellie strolled into the venue ten minutes before set time, lipstick smudged all over her jaw, reeking of tequila and weed, with three girls trailing behind her like she was the messiah of sex. she still performed like nothing happened, of course. even signed a bra on stage mid-song.

or berlin, when she stopped the show halfway through, locked eyes with a girl in the front row who looked like she’d been crying, and straight-up jumped off stage. mic still in hand, she kissed her so hard it made at least 20 headlines. she never got her name, but later admitted in an interview that it was one of the best kisses of her life.

and then there was that rooftop in LA—the infamous afterparty for some alt girlband’s tour finale. ellie was already drunk, half in her underwear, making out with the rival band’s lead singer against a glass wall while their drummer tried to politely look away. jesse swears he walked in on her mid-threesome in the guest bedroom later that night, but ellie still denies it to this day. kinda.

there was one show—vegas, obviously—where ellie walked off stage with nearly twenty bras and at least ten pairs of panties stuffed into her mic stand, draped over her guitar, even hanging off her boot somehow. halfway through the set, it basically turned into a lingerie rainstorm. she played through it like a pro, flashing that smug little grin every time another piece hit the stage, only pausing once to pick up a red lace thong, twirl it around her finger, and go, “if you want it back, you’re gonna have to come get it yourself.” the crowd lost it.

dina joked that they could open a lingerie store with all the stuff ellie got that night. ellie just shrugged, grinning, and said, “what can i say? i’m a woman of the people.”

it was a mess, but it was her mess. untouchable, unstoppable, with this cocky grin and a body count that would make most people faint. music was her religion and girls were her favorite sin.

but all of that changed when you showed up. not right away—ellie was too stubborn for that. but eventually, the chaos started to feel a little quieter. the noise started to mean something. and for the first time, ellie started thinking less about the next city, and more about who she wanted waiting for her when the lights went down.

[amyzworldds]

Part Three: Shattered Roads

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Alt Ending

Y/N’s solo debut prep silences Seventeen’s dorm, the boys clinging to her cardboard cutout—until a devastating car accident lands her in a coma. Torn between tour duties and despair, they rally for her recovery. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor, Angst

Weeks had bled into a haze, and Y/N still hadn’t woken. Before the crash, Seventeen was mid-world tour, a whirlwind of stages and screams, with a month-long break planned before the Asia leg. Y/N had seized that gap to finish her solo debut, sy/ncing her promo with their return to the road. But the accident shattered everything—her coma stretched on, and the boys faced a gut-wrenching reality: the tour couldn’t stop. Fans had paid, venues were booked, and the machine of K-pop churned on, merciless.

At the airport, they shuffled through the crowd, a lifeless procession of hoodies and hats. Seungcheol led, eyes hollow, jaw tight. Carats waved signs—“We love you!” “Fighting!”—but the boys’ smiles were plastic, rehearsed. They’d visited Y/N that morning, a ritual now—her hospital room a shrine of their guilt and hope. Her parents were there too, taking shifts, but the boys still came, talking to her still form, singing off-key just to fill the silence. “Y/N-ah, you’d hate this quiet,” Seungcheol had murmured, squeezing her hand. “Wake up and yell at us, okay?”

DK had knelt by her bed, voice cracking, “We’re leaving for tour… don’t be mad we’re not here. We’ll be back fast.”

Hoshi lingered, staring at her bandaged head. “Your standee’s mocking us at home. I’d trade it for you in a heartbeat.”

Wonwoo adjusted her blanket, whispering, “Rest up… we need you back…”

Jun patted her arm, faint smile fading, “No pranks ‘til you’re here to laugh…”

Minghao traced her hand, voice soft, “Dance battle’s on hold—don’t forget…”

On the plane, the usual chaos was dead. No Y/N bouncing down the aisle, chattering—“Hoshi oppa, stop hogging the snacks!” or “Dino-yah, let’s film a tiktok!” Just silence, broken by the hum of engines. Seungcheol stared out the window, replaying her scream. Jeonghan clutched a pillow, eyes red. Vernon scrolled his phone, avoiding crash pics still circulating online. They were ghosts, bracing to fake it for millions.

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

Two countries down—Singapore, Jakarta—and they’d pulled it off. On stage, they smiled, danced, laughed, feeding Carats the energy they craved. Offstage, they collapsed, calling Y/N’s parents daily. “Any change?” Seungcheol would ask, voice tight.

“Still sleeping,” her mom would say, gentle but heavy. “She’s stable… just waiting.”

DK cried after every call, “She’s missing this—she’d love these crowds…”

Seungkwan nodded, wiping tears, “We’re half a group without her noise…”

Mingyu stared at his phone, her Weverse kimbap post still pinned. “I’d kill to hear her nag me again…”

Wonwoo pushed his glasses up, voice low, “She’d hate us being this quiet…”

Jun fidgeted, “I keep expecting her to jump out, yelling ‘Gotcha!’…”

Minghao sighed, “She’s the pulse… this feels wrong…” They soldiered on, but each show carved deeper into their hollow shells.

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

At the hospital, weeks had stacked into a gray blur. Then, one quiet afternoon, Y/N stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, the harsh light stabbing. She squinted, head throbbing, the room spinning into focus—white walls, beeping machines, flowers wilting by the bed. Her mind was a fog—flashes of headlights, a scream, the crash. Nothing else. “W-Where… what day is it?” she croaked, voice rusty.

The door creaked, and her mom stepped in, freezing. “Y/N?!” She dropped her bag, rushing over, tears spilling as she hugged her. “Oh my God, you’re awake—you’re awake!”

Her dad bolted out, shouting, “Doctor! She’s up!” Nurses and doctors swarmed, checking vitals, shining lights in her eyes. “She’s stable,” one said, smiling. “Needs rest, but she’s out of the woods—can leave soon.” The head bandage was gone, just bruises and a faint scar left.

Her mom sobbed, stroking her hair. “We were so scared… the boys too—they’ve been here every chance, wrecked. Especially Seungcheol—he still blames himself, even though we told him it’s not his fault.”

Y/N managed a weak laugh, throat dry. “Dorks… all of them. Cheol oppa’s probably crying into his apron still.” She paused, eyes lighting up. “Mom, don’t tell them I’m awake. I wanna surprise those idiots—they deserve a shock after all this.”

Her mom chuckled through tears, nodding. “You’re evil… fine, my lips are sealed.” She texted Manager Kim instead—“Y/N’s awake, don’t tell the boys—she wants to surprise them.” Kim grinned at his phone, replying, “She’s back—oh, they’re gonna lose it.”

Her dad squeezed her hand, teary but smiling. “You scared us, kid. Rest up—your oppas are gonna need oxygen when you pull this off.”

Y/N smirked, sinking into the pillows, already plotting. The tour trudged on without her, but she was awake—and ready to reclaim her chaos crown.

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

Weeks had passed since Y/N woke from her coma, and though she wasn’t fully recovered—still a bit wobbly, head tender—she was back to her scheming self. The boys remained in the dark, slogging through their tour, and she wasn’t about to let them off easy. “Sorry, oppas, you’ll suffer a little longer—it’s me, Y/N, deal with it,” she muttered to herself, smirking in her hospital room. She’d been resting, regaining strength, and plotting a comeback that’d knock their socks off.

One afternoon, she cornered her doctor, eyes gleaming. “Doc, can I dance yet? Sing? I need to know—I’ve got plans!”

The doctor chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “No dancing—not yet, your body’s still healing. But singing? Go for it, just don’t push too hard.” Y/N grinned, clapping weakly. As a thank-you to the nurses and doctors who’d nursed her back from the brink, she staged a mini-concert right there in her private room. Propped on her bed, she belted one of her album tracks—voice a little raspy but alive—nurses tearing up, doctors swaying. “No posting this, okay?” she winked, mid-note. “It’s a secret—I’m cooking something big!” They nodded, charmed, pocketing their phones as she finished with a dramatic bow, nearly toppling off the bed.

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

Meanwhile, Seventeen trudged through their final tour leg, a robotic parade of forced smiles and lifeless steps. On stage, they dazzled Carats—Seungcheol’s dimples flashing, Hoshi’s tiger roars echoing—but backstage, they flopped onto couches like deflated balloons, texting Y/N’s mom for updates. “Still not awake,” her reply buzzed back, same as always.

DK groaned, sprawling across Mingyu. “It’s been months—how’s she still out? Is she Sleeping Beauty now?!”

Seungkwan snorted, though his eyes were red. “Yeah, waiting for her prince to kiss her awake—maybe we should send San.”

“Hey!” Hoshi yelped, tossing a water bottle at him. “I’d wake her with my tiger charm, but she’d just yell at me for drooling on her!”

Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, voice low, “She’s tougher than Sleeping Beauty… but it’s too long…”

Vernon slumped, staring at the ceiling, “I keep thinking she’ll barge in, yelling about my messy bunk…”

Minghao fidgeted with his rings, muttering, “She’d hate this quiet… it’s not her…”

Seungcheol forced a laugh, hollow. “Maybe she’s faking it—testing how long we’ll cry before she jumps us.” They chuckled, but the fear lingered, gnawing deeper with every show.

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

Unbeknownst to them, Y/N was orchestrating a masterpiece. Fully discharged but still on the down-low, she’d called Manager Kim, voice brimming with glee. “Oppa, I’ve got a plan—huge surprise, for the boys and Carats! Can we pull it off at their last show?”

“What now, you gremlin?” Kim laughed, already hooked.

“Okay, listen—we fake a technical glitch mid-concert, stop their performance. I hide in a room, lights go out, boys get ushered offstage. Then I sneak on, lights stay off, and I sing a song from my album—boom, surprise! They’ll lose their minds!”

Kim cackled, “You’re evil—I love it. Let’s do it.”

Now, at the final concert venue, Y/N sat in a tucked-away room, makeup artist dabbing at her face, stylist fussing with her outfit—a sparkly number that screamed “I’m back, losers!” She was still a little shaky, but her spirit was ablaze. “They’re gonna cry harder than when they thought I ditched them,” she snickered, peering at her reflection. “Perfect—time to ruin their day in the best way.”

Her makeup artist grinned, “They’ve got no clue—you’re a menace.”

“It’s my love language,” Y/N shot back, stretching her voice with a soft hum. She waited for her cue—two songs from the end—heart pounding with mischief. The boys, oblivious robots on stage, had no idea their Sleeping Beauty was about to wake up and wreck their world.

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The boys was mid-“Super” performance, tearing up the stage—Seungcheol belting, Hoshi roaring, Mingyu flexing —when the music screeched to a halt. Lights snapped off, plunging the arena into dark chaos. Carats gasped, the boys froze mid-step, and confusion erupted.

“What the—?!” Seungcheol barked, spinning around. “Did the sound guy fall asleep?!”

“Hyung, what’s happening?!” DK yelped, clutching Mingyu’s arm. “Are the lights gonna spark? What if the stage catches fire?! Carats are out there!”

“Calm down, it’s not a disaster movie!” Mingyu hissed, though he looked spooked too. “But seriously, what’s up? Are we cursed now?!”

A staff member bolted onstage, flustered, whispering to Seungcheol, “Technical glitch—backstage, now!” His panic was contagious, and the boys stumbled off, muttering.

“Technical glitch my foot!” Hoshi grumbled, tripping over a cable. “This better not be Hoshi sabotage—I’m too pretty to die in a spark shower!”

Backstage, they piled into a room, sweaty and jittery. “Okay, someone explain!” Seungcheol snapped, pacing like a caged lion. “What’s broken? The fans—Carats—what happens to them?!”

DK flopped onto a couch, dramatic. “First Y/N, now this? The universe hates us!”

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Jun muttered, half-serious. “She’s punishing us from her coma…”

“Don’t say that!” Seungkwan whacked him, eyes wide. “She’s just sleeping—don’t jinx it!”

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

Meanwhile, in a hidden room, Y/N was a one-woman hurricane—twirling in her sparkly pink cocktail dress, chaotically “dancing” to no music. Manager Kim grabbed her shoulders, “Y/N, sit down! You’re still recovering—doctor said no dancing!”

She cackled, spinning out of his grip. “Relax, oppa! I could dance Maestro backward and Aju Nice upside down! I’m back—deal with it!”

“You’re a menace,” Kim groaned, throwing up his hands. “Fine, but if you collapse, I’m not carrying you!”

“Pfft, I’d make you anyway,” she shot back, winking. A staff member peeked in, signaling—showtime. Y/N tiptoed out, giggling, “Time to ruin their night—let’s go!” The hall was pitch-black, staff bustling onstage “fixing” things, Carats whispering in confusion. Y/N slipped into position—center stage, mic in hand—unseen, a pink shadow in the dark.

A minute ticked by, staff scurried off, and then—her song kicked in, soft and haunting from her album. She sang, voice ringing clear, and the lights flared up, spotlight pinning her in all her glittery glory. Carats lost it—screams shook the roof, “Y/N! Y/N!” echoing like a tidal wave.

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Backstage, the boys were a mess. Seungcheol ranted, “These technicians—do they even test stuff?! We’re mid-tour, and now we’re stuck in a blackout—Carats deserve better!”

“Coups, chill,” Joshua tried, but Seungcheol spun on him.

“Chill?! What if this cuts the show short? Fans paid for this!”

Minghao slumped, “Maybe it’s just bad wiring… or Y/N’s ghost…”

“She’s not a ghost!” Wonwoo snapped, glasses slipping. “But yeah, this sucks…”

Then—the screams hit. Not panic—pure joy. The boys froze as “Y/N! Y/N!” chants roared through the walls, followed by her voice—live, singing her solo track. Seungcheol stopped pacing, “Wait… that’s—?!”

DK bolted upright, “Her song?! Is this a prank?!”

Hoshi peeked out the door—no one there. “That’s her voice—live! She’s here?!”

They locked eyes, disbelief morphing to glee. “She’s awake!” Seungkwan shrieked, and they tore out, sprinting to the stage like kids on sugar.

There she was—Y/N, mid-stage, pink dress twinkling, belting her heart out. Smiles cracked their faces, and restraint vanished. Hoshi led the charge, “Y/N-IE!”—and they swarmed her, a 13-man pile-on. The mic flew from her hand, clattering as she laughed, buried under hugs.

“You’re back! You’re alive!” DK wailed, squeezing her like a teddy bear.

“Our princess—our chaos queen!” Seungkwan yelled, jumping.

“I knew you’d wake up!” Mingyu sobbed, nearly lifting her off the ground.

“Never scare us like that again!” Seungcheol roared, ruffling her hair, tears streaking.

Wonwoo grinned, glasses fogged, “You owe me a book talk—don’t forget!”

Jun laughed, “Prank’s on us now, huh? You win!”

Minghao spun her gently, “Dance battle’s back on—you’re mine!”

Y/N shoved them off, cackling, snatching her mic. “Eww, get off me, you sweaty dorks! I’m a princess—can’t you see I’m mid-concert?! You’re crashing my stage like sasaengs—out!” She waved them away, dramatic, but her grin was pure sunshine.

“Crashing?!” Hoshi yelped, clutching her arm. “We’re your VIPs! We’re staying!”

“Yeah, good luck kicking us off!” Dino taunted, hopping around her.

“You’re back—that’s all that matters!” Vernon laughed, filming the chaos.

“I’ll allow it,” she smirked, then faced the crowd, “Carats, say hi to my annoying members—they missed me too much to stay away!” The arena erupted, fans screaming as the boys bounced like overexcited puppies.

“We’re never letting you out of sight again!” Jeonghan declared, slinging an arm around her.

“Try it—I’ll hide with 13 more standees!” she fired back, and they groaned, laughing.

The concert rolled on, Y/N finishing her song with 13 giddy shadows behind her, their chaos queen reclaimed—pink dress and all.

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Y/N barely got through her solo song before Seventeen turned it into a hug-fest. She’d belt a line—“I’m shining bright, oh yeah!”—and DK would snatch her into a bear hug, “You’re back, my sunshine!” She’d wiggle free, hit another note, only for Mingyu to swoop in, “Never leaving you again!”—lifting her off her feet. Seungkwan dove next, “My turn, you pink gremlin!”—and she’d screech, “Let me sing, you dorks!” The mic became a hot potato, bouncing between her and the floor as Carats howled with laughter.

The staff finally intervened, rushing onstage like zookeepers. “Y/N, off—now!” one barked, grabbing her arm. “Doctor’s orders—no overdoing it!”

“What?! I’m fine!” she protested, flailing as they dragged her off. “I just sang three lines—let me live!”

Manager Kim loomed backstage, arms crossed, “You just got out of a coma—no dancing, no chaos! You’re watching, not performing!”

“Boo, you’re no fun!” Y/N pouted, plopping onto a chair, legs kicking. “Fine, let the boys sweat it out—I’ll be the princess in the back!”

The boys took the stage, powering through their set—Super, Clap, Hot—sweat flying, smiles plastered for Carats. Y/N watched, smirking, plotting. “They think I’m done? Cute,” she muttered, eyeing the encore like a hawk.

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

The final encore hit—Aju Nice—and the boys were jumps, Carats waving lightsticks, when Y/N decided rules were optional. She bolted from backstage, pink dress glittering, and leapt onto the stage like a caffeinated bunny. “Surprise, losers—I’m back!” she yelled, jumping, spinning, and running laps around them.

Seungcheol’s jaw dropped, “Y/N, what are you doing?! Sit down!” He lunged to grab her, but she dodged, cackling.

“No way, Cheol-oppa—I’m alive, let me jump!” She hopped like a kangaroo, mic in hand, belting off-key, “Oneul nan maryaaAaaAA!!!

DK flailed, “You’re gonna collapse! Stop it!” He chased her, arms out, but she zigzagged, giggling.

“Catch me if you can, slowpoke!” she taunted, darting past Mingyu, who yelped, “Y/N-ah, the doctor’s gonna kill us!”

Woozi groaned, still singing, “Someone get her—she’s a liability!”

But Hoshi? Hoshi was her chaos soulmate. He grinned, “That’s my girl—let’s go!” He joined her, leaping like a tiger on a trampoline, “Jump with me, Y/N-ie!”

“Hoshi oppa, you’re the best!” she cheered, and they bounced together, a pink tornado of madness. Carats screamed louder, loving the anarchy.

Seungcheol roared, “Hoshi, don’t encourage her! She’s fragile!”

“Fragile?!” Y/N spun, mock-offended. “I survived a car flip—I’m invincible! Watch this!” She attempted a backflip, wobbled, and Jun caught her mid-stumble, “Nice try, princess—stick to jumping!”

“I’m helping!” Hoshi argued, hopping beside her. “She’s happier this way!”

Minghao sighed, “You’re both gonna end up in casts…”—but he couldn’t hide his grin.

Vernon filmed, laughing, “This is gold—Y/N’s back, and we’re doomed!”

Seungkwan tackled her into a hug, “Stop moving, you pink disaster—I missed you too much to lose you again!”

“Get off, I’m mid-performance!” she squawked, shoving him, only for Joshua to scoop her up, “Time out, chaos queen—sing, don’t sprint!”

“Put me down, Shua-oppa—I’m the encore star!” she flailed, kicking, as Wonwoo chuckled, “You’re starring in a hospital sequel if you keep this up!”

The staff hovered, panicked, but Manager Kim threw up his hands backstage, “She’s unstoppable—let her have it!”

Y/N broke free, grabbed her mic, and belted the final note—“Oneul nan maryaAa!!!”—jumping one last time before collapsing into Hoshi’s arms, laughing. “Told you I’m fine!”

“You’re insane!” Seungcheol yelled, but his smile betrayed him as they swarmed her again, a sweaty, giggling mess.

Carats chanted her name, the boys half-scolding, half-celebrating, and Hoshi high-fived her, “Best encore ever—let’s do it again tomorrow!”

“Over my dead body!” Kim shouted from the wings, and Y/N just winked, “Too late, oppa—I’m back!”

[flowafairy]

Actor gojo x Co-star reader headcanons pleaseee

✰ IS IT THAT SWEET? I GUESS SO. actor!gojo x costar!reader headcanons.

#tags delusional gojo, slight suggestive(?), crack

note. let’s hope this breaks my writer’s block 🙂‍↕️

actor!gojo who is absolutely loving the entire enemies to lovers thing you’ve got going on, he feels like he’s in a wattpad whenever you mumble out an atrocious insult directed towards him—you’re so obsessed with him. ( he’s delusional )

actor!gojo who purposely slips up during a kiss scene, just so he can feel your soft lips against his just one more time, oh, and he adores the way you shamelessly gawk him—he knows he’s fine. ( fine shyt! )

actor!gojo who loves teasing you in front of fans, he loves the way your face heats up and a small pout etches your face with every subtle touch of his fingers. call him crazy but.. that’s gotta mean you’re down bad, right?

actor!gojo who isn’t really acting during that one cheesy scene in the movie, getting down on one knee with an expensive ring in his hand that the director let him pick out. he’s already planned out his entire wedding with you, because, why wouldn’t you wanna marry him? cocky little shit.

actor!gojo who entertains fan theories whenever he comes across them. a speculation you two might be dating? retweet. a poorly photoshopped image of you two kissing that he definitely didn’t make himself and post on his alt account? repost.

actor!gojo who constantly yaps about you to his friends in the movie, and in real life. suguru will wake up to 9 new messages at 3AM, all of them consisting of satoru whining about how mean were to him during rehearsal and just how sexy you looked while doing it. suguru sends him an 800 word paragraph threat that he can and will block him if he speaks another word. nanami unfortunately woke up to quite a few messages from gojo.

actor!gojo who, despite the teasing and annoying little shit he is, is quick to dismiss uncomfortable questions during your interviews. who are you currently interested in? none of their fucking business. ( what a gentlemen! )

actor!gojo who wants to go shrivel up in a hole and die on and off acting because you had to kiss another man for the plot. so what if you aren’t together? he still has all right to be jealous! and throw hands with the actor. but woah, who would do that? not him.

actor!gojo who got caught liking one of your posts from 2 years ago, except he’s the one to text you instead of you texting him, because he’s so smug ( embarrassed ) that he definitely doesn’t give a shit that he was caught. satoru: so u wanna slide tho?

actor!gojo who has became a certified loverboy even after the movie’s over, constantly bombarding you with messages. you thought he was being polite at first, until the messages just kept coming and coming and oh boy, he would not shut up.

toru or wtv his name was is typing…

dinner 9PM

me n you

😉😗.

[rannie-moon]

“The Industry’s Most Successful Fangirl” — Lee Heran Announced as One of the Artists on the F1 Movie Soundtrack

What can’t the IT girl do?

Accidentally headlining Coachella and breaking global viewer records, topping the Billboard charts with her experimental EP Leak This!, spearheading an ENHYPEN comeback, and now—landing a coveted spot on the official F1 movie soundtrack, all within a span of two months?

Her name is Lee Heran.

The much-anticipated F1 film, starring Brad Pitt and directed by Joseph Kosinski (Top Gun: Maverick), was officially announced on July 5, 2024, immediately uniting movie buffs and Formula 1 fanatics alike. And as of May 1, 2025, the official soundtrack lineup was revealed, featuring global icons such as RAYE, Ed Sheeran, Doja Cat, and the industry’s elite—BLACKPINK’s Rosé and ENHYPEN’s very own Lee Heran.

While Rosé’s continued rise in the U.S. charts makes her presence a welcomed expectation, Heran’s inclusion has sparked its own buzz. Why? Because if there’s one thing the 21-year-old is known for outside of her sharp vocals and genre-bending artistry—it’s her undying, unapologetic love for sports.

From her sporty-chic airport fashion to her spontaneous race-day live tweets and signature football jerseys in casual wear, Heran has steadily built a reputation as K-pop’s ultimate sports girlie. Her fans have long dubbed her “the industry’s most successful fangirl”—and this moment solidifies it.

In fact, this isn’t her first brush with a crossover between fandom and opportunity. One of her most iconic moments to date came in 2022 during the final round of the EAFF E-1 Football Championship hosted in Japan. A day before her 18th birthday, Heran joined ENHYPEN as part of Korea’s honorary delegation and stepped onto the pitch to take the opening penalty kick.

A former high school football team captain, Heran launched the ball into the top corner of the net with such precision and power that the stadium roared to life. National team captain and Tottenham Hotspur star and captain Son Heung-min later posted a photo with Heran to Instagram with the cheeky caption: “Scored us a goal so I’ll be popping in for an Inkigayo performance soon 🤗🩷”

And let’s not forget the signed Lionel Messi jersey she once casually wore during rehearsals—a gift fans are still debating how she secured.

As for Formula 1, Heran has been vocal about her support for years. A die-hard McLaren fan (her phone case even sports the team logo), she’s frequently spotted engaging with race updates, watching qualifying rounds live, and talking about the countless Grand Prix's she attended as a child, having no shame in skipping school for a few days.

Her track for the film, titled “Just Keep Watching,” is said to blend synthwave elements with pulsing alt-pop production—staying in line with the “Sports Car” motif that dominated Leak This! Both thematically and sonically, it promises to match the high-speed adrenaline of the racetrack.

In a brief message to fans on Weverse, Heran wrote: “This one’s for the fans who’ve ever screamed at a screen because your driver got undercut in the pits. Hope you feel like you’re in the car when you hear it.”

If her previous track record is anything to go by, “Just Keep Watching” is set to be more than just a soundtrack cut—it’s going to be a defining moment for pop culture’s intersection with sport, fandom, and unapologetic passion.

The F1 film hits theatres worldwide on June 27, 2025. Buckle up.

taglist: @angie-x3@deluluscenarios @chaeryyeongz @akitoshi39i@sparklydoll444 @yunjiiin @kaitieskidmore97 @yb763@reibelhearts @enhaverse713586

[bamgyuuuri]

May I request a Beomgyu x alt singer!reader?

Kai finally forms the band he’s been dreaming of and introduces his friend group(txt) to the band members before a gig. I’ve rarely seen fics that have the reader as the alt band member, normally it’s the other way around and I think you’d do great with this scenario!! It being in Gyu’s pov would be great to see his reaction/attraction to her. The piercings and dark tones, similar to ox1=lovesong gyu. Thank you!!!🖤 absolutely love your writing style

Sorry that this is long or doesn’t make sense😭

⸝⸝ she plays bass ┈ cbg.

⸝⸝ now playing : she plays bass - beabadoobee

pairings and tags. altsinger!reader x admirer!beomgyu. love at first sight . beomgyu is absolutely and hilariously whipped . meet-cute . band shenanigans . underground music scene-esque

word count. 4.3k

short note! HIII AAAA thank you so much for this req omg im so sorry this took so so long <////3 i hope this is to your liking !!! i tried a little something different for the way i wrote this too so please do lmk what you think ~~

alt!reader, clad in a ripped mesh top over a cropped band tee, her plaid skirt layered over fishnet tights, heavy platform boots clicking against the pavement. silver rings adorned her fingers, chunky chains around her neck, an eyebrow piercing glinting under the dim venue lights. 

kai caught sight of her immediately, eyes widening as if he had just discovered a hidden gem. without hesitation, he strode over, curiosity buzzing in his voice as he asked, “do you play anything? sing, maybe? my band needs someone like you.”

alt!reader, who, despite the intimidating dark makeup and sharp aesthetic, grinned so brightly it made kai blink. oh, he thought. she’s cute. “ah, i can sing, and i play bass too!” she said, her voice laced with excitement. kai nearly whooped, clapping his hands together before grabbing her arm. “you’re in. no take-backs.”

alt!reader, who showed up to their first rehearsal with her bass slung over her shoulder, the strap decorated with a mix of pins—some band logos, some just random little trinkets that probably had stories behind them. kai had expected her to be more reserved, but she fit in immediately, laughing with the drummer within minutes, teasing him about his tempo.

“it’s supposed to sound like a heartbeat, not like you’re summoning a demon,” she quipped, smirking.

the lead guitarist snorted. “talk big, but let’s see if you can actually play, rockstar.”

she did. and she was good.

but then she sang.

and suddenly, good wasn’t the right word anymore.

her voice was rich, effortlessly smooth, with this raw, husky edge that sent chills down their spines. it wasn’t just strong—it was soulful, the kind that lingered, that made you feel every note deep in your chest. the moment she opened her mouth, the energy in the room shifted, the air growing heavier with something indescribable.

the drummer, who had been leaning against his kit with arms crossed, straightened. the lead guitarist, mid-strum, fumbled a chord, eyes snapping up to her like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. and kai—kai just grinned, wide and triumphant, as if he had struck gold.

“holy shit,” the drummer breathed.

alt!reader, who didn’t even seem to realize the way she had just stunned them into silence, finished the verse with an easy smile. “was that okay?”

“okay?” kai sputtered, half-laughing. “you just obliterated us.”

the days leading up to their first gig blurred into a whirlwind of rehearsals, late-night music discussions, and endless inside jokes. kai was quick to text alt!reader memes about bassists getting overshadowed (she always replied with a dramatic “T_T”), the lead guitarist gave her pointers on performing, and the drummer—grudgingly impressed—finally admitted, “okay, you might actually be cooler than kai.”

alt!reader, who always showed up in some new variation of her signature look—some days it was a shredded fishnet top over a vintage band tee, other days a plaid mini skirt with safety pins fastened haphazardly along the hem. her accessories were never the same, either; she rotated between spiked chokers, stacked silver chains, and chunky bracelets that clanked against her bass when she played. kai couldn’t help but wonder if she had an endless wardrobe of ripped tights and combat boots.

but the biggest contradiction? she was sweet. unbearably sweet.

despite her sharp eyeliner and leather jackets, she was the kind of person who brought snacks to practice without being asked, stuffing a bag of candy into kai’s hands with a nonchalant, “figured you’d forget to eat.” she’d send good morning texts in the group chat, complete with emojis, and gave the drummer a comforting pat on the back whenever he got frustrated with a beat.

alt!reader would chew on the end of her guitar pick when thinking, doodle song lyrics in the margins of her notebook (sometimes with tiny, smiling doodles beside them), and could never say no when an other band member complained about carrying equipment. “fine, fine, i got it,” she’d sigh, dramatically rolling her eyes—but then she’d take the amp without hesitation.

“you do realize you’re ruining your entire intimidating vibe, right?” kai teased once, watching her tie up the drummer’s shoelace because he hadn’t noticed it was undone.

“what vibe?” she blinked, tilting her head.

kai simply sighed. this girl has no idea how cool she is.

then the night of the gig arrived.

the venue buzzed with anticipation, the walls lined with stickers and scrawled signatures from past performers. neon lights flickered overhead, casting a hazy glow against the graffiti-splattered walls. kai could hear the low murmur of the crowd beyond the stage, the occasional burst of laughter, the clinking of drinks against sticky counters.

backstage, their small green room was packed with an energy that was half excitement, half nerves. the drummer tapped an anxious rhythm against his thigh, the lead guitarist double-checked his tuning for what had to be the fifth time, and kai, keyboardist extraordinaire, paced the length of the room with his hands clasped together like he was deep in prayer.

“we’re not about to die out there,” alt!reader teased, watching kai with amusement as she lounged against the armrest of a battered couch.

kai stopped mid-pace, pointing at her. “says the person who’s been chilling like she’s about to play an after-school talent show instead of our first real gig.”

she shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bass as if she hadn’t a single care in the world. “i mean, i did say i wasn’t nervous.”

the drummer let out a low whistle. “wish i had whatever confidence potion you’re drinking.”

she grinned, offering him a fingerless-gloved fist bump. “it’s called believing in the fact that we’re actually good.”

the lead guitarist snorted. “or maybe you’re just built different.”

alt!reader, who was looking every bit the part of the effortlessly cool rockstar—shredded tights, oversized band tee slipping off one shoulder, dark lipstick slightly smudged from the hours before, silver rings gleaming against her fingers—flashed them all a knowing smile.

“a little bit of both,” she admitted.

laughter filled the room, light and easy, shaking off any last remnants of nervous tension. they were ready.

and then, as if on cue, the green room door creaked open.

kai’s friends had arrived.

soobin stepped in first, towering as usual, followed by yeonjun, who immediately scanned the room like he owned the place. taehyun was behind them, hands stuffed in his pockets, his ever-observant gaze taking in everything. and then—

beomgyu walked in.

and his entire world stopped spinning.

he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when kai had texted, come meet the band i formed! we rock!, but it definitely wasn’t this.

his breath hitched.

their bassist was stunning.

it wasn’t just the way she looked—though, god, the way she looked. the shredded tights, the chains, the band tee that hung just right, the dark kohl around her eyes that only made them more piercing. the way she was sitting, draped over the couch like she belonged there, one booted foot resting atop the coffee table, fingers idly twirling a guitar pick.

but it was more than that. it was the energy she carried, this effortless kind of presence that demanded attention without even trying.

beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat.

no, actually, it tripped over itself and fell flat on its face.

she turned then, looking up at them with a casual ease, her lips curling into the kind of smirk that should not have made his stomach flip.

“so,” she drawled, tilting her head. “you must be kai’s friends.”

her voice.

oh, he was done for.

kai gestured between them all, oblivious to the way beomgyu was currently having an out-of-body experience. “this is soobin, yeonjun, taehyun, and that one—” he pointed at beomgyu, who was still staring, still reeling—“is beomgyu.”

he was pretty sure kai said something else after that, but beomgyu didn’t hear a single word.

because she was looking right at him now, those sharp, lined eyes meeting his with an unreadable glint.

“beomgyu, huh?” she mused, and the way his name rolled off her tongue—casual, lazy, like she already had him figured out—sent an inexplicable shiver down his spine.

and then, before he could even think of how to respond, she smiled.

not the cool, knowing smirk from before. a real one. soft, warm, completely contradicting everything about the way she dressed.

beomgyu’s jaw? gone. his heart? somewhere in the floorboards. his entire existence? irreversibly altered.

he was in so much trouble.

kai’s friends settled in quickly, claiming whatever empty seats or spots against the walls they could find. the room felt even smaller now, the buzz of conversation filling the space, overlapping in a way that made it feel alive.

soobin and yeonjun hit it off with the drummer almost immediately, something about shared music tastes and mutual complaints about how kai was the most chaotic bandmate to exist. taehyun had already fallen into an easy conversation with the lead guitarist, both of them equally sharp-tongued, exchanging witty remarks like a verbal game of ping-pong.

and beomgyu?

beomgyu was barely breathing.

he had settled into a spot on the floor near the edge of the group, but god, he wasn’t really there. not fully. his body was present, sure—nodding at the right moments, chuckling when he was supposed to—but his mind?

completely occupied. by her.

she was right there, close enough that he could pick up the faint scent of something floral—unexpected, unfair, intoxicating.

she was expressive when she spoke, hands moving fluidly as she told some story about a past gig she had gone to. her rings caught the dim lighting every time her fingers moved, and beomgyu was watching, entranced, like the glint of silver was some kind of hypnotic spell.

and her laugh.

it wasn’t the kind he expected. it wasn’t sharp, or mocking, or cool and distant. it was bright. warm. the kind of laugh that made you want to lean in just to hear it again.

“beomgyu,” taehyun’s voice cut through his daze like a needle popping a soap bubble.

he blinked, realizing a second too late that everyone was looking at him now.

“huh?”

“i asked if you play anything,” alt!reader said, and beomgyu swore his brain short-circuited for a moment because she was the one talking to him now. her gaze was steady, her head slightly tilted, awaiting his response.

his mouth opened. closed. opened again.

what was the question again?

kai rolled his eyes. “he plays guitar. won’t admit he’s good, but he is.”

“oh?” her lips curled, something amused dancing behind her eyes. “a guitarist?”

beomgyu swallowed, nodding. “yeah. a little.”

her smirk deepened. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

his heart absolutely crashed into his ribcage. “here,” alt!reader said, effortlessly plucking one of the electric guitars resting nearby and holding it out to him.

beomgyu stared at it. then at her. then at it again.

“c’mon,” she urged, her voice light, teasing—but not in a mean way. there was warmth in it, in the way she smiled at him, like she actually wanted to hear him play. “i wanna see if kai’s hyping you up for nothing.”

beomgyu let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. as if. his hands moved on their own, reaching out to take the guitar, fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment. and god. her skin was warm, like she carried the heat of the stage lights in her fingertips.

“no pressure,” she added, leaning forward slightly, resting her chin on her palm. “but i will judge.”

the others laughed, but beomgyu barely processed it. because all he could focus on was the way her eyes were on him. the way her expression held something playful, but patient, like she had all the time in the world for him to start.

he cleared his throat, adjusting his grip.

he had played in front of people before. his friends, random music store employees when testing out instruments, the occasional school events.

but somehow, this felt different.

beomgyu strums a chord, testing, letting the sound hum through the air. he wasn’t even sure what he was going to play until his fingers started moving, muscle memory taking over. a riff he always fell back on, something familiar, something easy—but her expression changed the moment he started playing.

her gaze flickered to his hands, the playful challenge melting into something softer.

interest.

appreciation.

maybe even a little bit of… awe?

“oh, he’s good good,” she murmured, mostly to herself, but beomgyu caught it anyway. and he felt it—felt the way his face warmed, how his pulse picked up speed at the way she looked at him now.

he should probably focus on not messing up.

but with the way she was watching him?

it was impossible. the moment beomgyu strummed the final note, the room erupted. cheers, whistles, claps—the lead guitarist dramatically pumping his fist in the air, the drummer banging out a quick rhythm against the couch, while soobin, yeonjun, and taehyun only nods approvingly like they have known beomgyu was hiding talent all along.

“okay, okay!” kai grinned, nudging him with his elbow. “i take back all the times i’ve called you a fake musician.”

beomgyu scoffed, shaking his head, but he couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed—not when the adrenaline was still thrumming under his skin, not when his heart was still trying to steady itself after playing under her gaze.

alt!reader, who was still watching him, arms crossed, lips curled.

“i gotta say,” she mused, tilting her head, “you’ve got some serious skills.” beomgyu let out a breathy chuckle, hoping she couldn’t tell just how wrecked he was by those words alone. she extended a fist toward him, the glint of her rings catching the low light. “respect.”

he stared at it for a half-second longer than he should have before knocking his own fist against hers, ignoring the way his pulse jumped at the brief contact. “you know,” alt!reader then adds, grinning as she leaned back casually against the wall, “beomgyu could totally replace our lead guitarist. i mean, seriously, look at that performance.”

the lead guitarist nearly choked on his drink, immediately sitting up straighter, his brows furrowing in mock offense. “hey! i’m right here, you know!”

“yeah, but—” alt!reader raised a brow, teasing. “what do you even do, other than make dramatic faces during every solo?”

“i play solos!” he shot back, crossing his arms. “i’m an artist!”

“an artist? more like a drama queen.” she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him. the bickering continued, light-hearted, with alt!reader tossing sarcastic jabs and the lead guitarist firing back just as quickly. but in the middle of it all, beomgyu couldn’t hear any of it.

he was too busy basking in the compliment.

replace the lead guitarist?

her saying that?

beomgyu couldn’t help it—his heart swelled, his chest felt a little lighter. he glanced over at her, catching the way her eyes sparkled as she teased the others, the playful tilt of her head, the curve of her lips. she wasn’t just joking—she meant it, and beomgyu’s brain was absolutely swimming in that simple, perfect thought.

just as everybody was starting to get lost in the flow of their conversations, the door to the green room creaked open.

a worker, looking harried but friendly, poked her head inside, holding a clipboard in one hand. “hey, last act’s almost done,” she called, drawing everyone’s attention. “be ready to get up in five!” as the worker’s voice cut through the energy of the room, everybody’s pulse heightened. kai stood up first, stretching his arms with an exaggerated groan. “alright, let’s do this!” he said, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. his voice was already rising, bouncing off the walls, and somehow it made everything feel just a little bit lighter.

the drummer was next to move, pushing off the couch with a sharp exhale, rolling his shoulders like a boxer before a match. he cracked his knuckles one last time, shaking out his hands before turning to the lead guitarist with a lopsided smirk. “don’t mess up.”

the lead guitarist scoffed, rolling his eyes but still reaching out to bump his fist against the drummer’s. “i never mess up,” he said, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed how much he actually cared about the small exchange.

kai, ever the ringleader, ruffled the drummer’s hair out of nowhere, much to the latter’s loud protests. “alright, alright, enough of your little bromance,” he teased, dodging a half-hearted swing in retaliation. then, he clapped his hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the lingering conversation. his voice, always carrying that effortless bravado, filled the room. “you guys know what time it is.”

the energy shifted instantly.

the band members exchanged knowing grins, their movements instinctive, their roles in this pre-show ritual long established. it was a tradition at this point—one that settled nerves and locked them into the moment.

just then, soobin, taehyun, and yeonjun—who had been watching from the side—stepped forward, effortlessly blending into the moment like they belonged there too.

“don’t screw it up,” taehyun quipped, smirking as he crossed his arms.

“real motivational, thanks,” kai deadpanned, shaking his head.

soobin, who had been observing the whole thing with a thoughtful nod, finally spoke. “nah, you guys are gonna kill it.”

“obviously,” yeonjun added with a confident tilt of his head, the corners of his mouth curling into an easy grin.

“but if you do mess up,” taehyun said, lips twitching as he leaned just a little closer, “just make it look cool.”

“that’s the whole plan, actually,” the drummer joked, flexing his fingers like he was warming up for a fight.

alt!reader, who had been adjusting the strap of her bass, let out an exaggerated sigh at their antics but stepped forward anyway, shaking her head with a smile. “you guys are so ridiculous,” she mumbled, though the fondness in her voice softened the words.

the lead guitarist was the first to extend his hands, palms up, an unspoken signal.

without hesitation, the others followed suit, stacking their hands on top of his, one after the other. kai’s ring-clad fingers tapped impatiently against the back of alt!reader’s hand, the drummer squeezed just a little too tight, and the lead guitarist—ever dramatic—wiggled his fingers under the pile like he was casting a spell.

the weight of their hands felt grounding, each one a familiar presence, a quiet reminder of why they were here—why they did this in the first place.

“alright,” kai said, eyes sweeping over his bandmates. “on three.”

the anticipation buzzed in the air, thick with something unspoken—adrenaline, excitement, the kind of bond that came from sharing the same dream and chasing it together.

“one,” the drummer started, voice steady.

“two,” alt!reader followed, grinning through the static in her chest.

“three!” they all yelled at once, throwing their hands into the air.

the room erupted into laughter, but beneath it all was something steadier—a quiet understanding, a reassurance. they had each other’s backs, no matter what.

alt!reader exhaled, adjusting the hem of her oversized band tee, rolling her shoulders as she shook her arms out. the nerves were still there, humming just beneath her skin, but they didn’t weigh her down. if anything, they made her sharper, more alive.

as the others made their way toward the door, she lingered for a second, taking it all in—the dimly lit green room, the hum of the crowd growing louder beyond the walls, the faint scent of old leather and stage lights, the rush of knowing she was about to step onto that stage again. she was ready.

then, just as she turned to leave, a voice—hesitant, barely above the noise—stopped her in her tracks.

“hey.”

she turned, only to find beomgyu standing there, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket.

his heart was racing. he could feel it hammering against his ribs, beating against his throat. he had been quiet the entire time, watching her, completely lost in the way she carried herself—unshaken, unwavering, effortlessly cool in a way that made his head spin.

she looked at him expectantly, tilting her head ever so slightly, her dark lipstick still slightly smudged, her rings glinting under the low, flickering light. she had been grinning and teasing all night, but right now, in this moment, she was just waiting for whatever he was about to say.

beomgyu swallowed hard, summoning every last ounce of courage he had left.

“good… good luck,” he managed, voice steady but soft.

she blinked, then her expression melted into something warm, something that made the corners of her eyes crinkle just slightly.

“thanks,” she said, and god, he wasn’t ready for the way she smiled at him—the way her eyes lingered, just for a second, like she actually cared that he was here. like she saw him.

then, before he could even think to respond, she lifted a hand and ruffled his hair—just once, quick but impossibly gentle—before slipping out the door to join the others.

beomgyu stood there, rooted to the spot, his pulse thundering in his ears.

he barely registered kai’s voice shouting something from the hallway, barely noticed the way the door swung shut behind her. all he could focus on was the ghost of her touch lingering at the crown of his head and the realization that he had never, in his entire life, been this enamored.

as soon as everybody went on their separate ways as they went up, the venue was alive. the air was thick with anticipation, humming with the restless energy of a crowd on the verge of something explosive. voices mingled in excited murmurs, some impatiently tapping their feet, others already pushing closer to the front, eager to be swallowed by the music when it finally began.

near the back, beomgyu stood with the rest, the four of them tucked just far enough from the densest part of the crowd to have a clear view of the stage. the dim, pulsing lights painted streaks of color over their faces, their shadows stretching long over the worn wooden floors.

beomgyu felt… off-kilter. antsy in a way he couldn’t quite explain. his fingers twitched in his jacket pockets, his pulse thrumming just a little too fast for comfort. it wasn’t nerves—he wasn’t even performing—but something in the air had his senses on high alert.

then, the lights dimmed.

the restless chatter of the audience dipped for half a breath.

and that’s when she walked out.

alt!reader stepped onto the stage like she owned it, her movements easy, effortless—like the weight of all those expectant eyes on her meant nothing. she rolled her shoulders once, adjusting the strap of her bass where it hung low against her hip, her rings flashing under the stage lights.

and then she looked up.

gone was the dull hum of anticipation—replaced instead by something sharp, something immediate.

a ripple of recognition moved through the crowd, people cheering before a single note had even been played. the atmosphere cracked like static before a storm.

she brought a hand up to her mic, tilting her head slightly, her lips curling into something slow, something knowing.

then, her voice—low, teasing, brimming with something electric—cut through the charged silence like a blade.

“are you ready?”

it wasn’t a question, no—it was pure energy, poured into a few simple words, and it sent a shockwave through the venue.

and the response was immediate.

the crowd roared, bodies surging forward, hands shooting into the air.

soobin let out a low whistle. yeonjun muttered something under his breath that was lost beneath the chaos. taehyun just grinned, watching it all unfold with the kind of amused knowing that made beomgyu’s stomach twist.

the band shifted behind her, instruments poised, breaths held.

a pause.

then—

the first note dropped like a thunderclap.

the lead guitarist’s fingers tore across the strings, unleashing a riff so sharp it felt like it could cut through bone. the drummer came in a split second later, slamming into the rhythm like he was trying to break through the sound barrier, the bass kicking in with a force that rattled the floor beneath their feet.

the room exploded.

but beomgyu barely noticed.

because the second the music surged to life, alt!reader moved.

her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut for half a breath—

and then she sang.

beomgyu’s entire world tilted.

his breath caught.

his pulse stuttered.

he hadn’t known.

through all the moments he had spent watching her—through the teasing remarks, the playful bickering, the easy grins and sharp-witted comebacks—he had never once considered the possibility—

that she was the vocalist.

and god, her voice.

raw. powerful. brimming with something deep, something primal.

it wasn’t just singing.

it was commanding.

it was a reckoning. a tidal wave of sound crashing over the room, leaving no space for escape—only surrender. it seized every breath, every heartbeat, wrapped around every single person in the audience like invisible chains, commanding their attention, demanding devotion.

she owned this space.

no, she was this space.

the music didn’t just belong to her—it was her. every note, every breath, every aching pause was something pulled straight from her veins, something raw and untamed, something alive. she wasn’t just singing it—she was unleashing it. becoming it. burning with it.

“heol,” soobin breathed, his eyes wide.

yeonjun turned to taehyun, nudging him with his elbow. “man, he’s so done for.”

taehyun just chuckled, not even bothering to hide his knowing smirk.

“oh, yeah,” he muttered. “completely wrecked.”

beomgyu barely heard them.

he was too busy staring, completely, utterly spellbound.

because she was glowing under the stage lights, radiating something untouchable, something electric—

and beomgyu?

beomgyu was completely and utterly doomed.

꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets, @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia , @frankghgr, @dawngyu, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @sxmmerberries, @napipope-ta, @bamgeutori, @xylatox, @hyunj00 <3 (click here if you would like to be added ><)

[in1-nutshell]

Could I humbly request some more of Sunstreaker and his brand new 5-year old Buddy?

I hope you are having a wonderful day!

Made it into a Slice of Life

Hope you enjoy!

Sunstreaker and Buddy the toddler: Slice of Life

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Human reader

IDW

It wasn’t their first choice, but after a vote, the bots had decided to spend the day at the beach.

It was either that or another hike and they weren’t eager to repeat what happened last time.

The bots are walking up the mountain. Sideswipe: “I thought this was supposed to be relaxing? This isn’t what I thought when you guys said relaxation.” Prowl: “It was in one of the human brochures.” Ironhide: “Quit ‘er whining. We’re almost there.” Sunstreaker is walking in the back with Buddy walking behind him. Sunstreaker: “Buddy we need to move faster.” Buddy is panting but nods. Sunstreaker: “We’ll get there faster if you let me carry you.” Buddy waves their hand: “I got it!” Buddy steps on a loose rock, falls on their face and starts tumbling backward. Sunstreaker: “Buddy!” Sunstreaker trip over a root and starts tumbling down behind Buddy. Ironhide: “Kid!” Sideswipe already swan diving down the mountain: “Don’t worry Buddy Uncle Sideswipe will get you!” A banged up Sunstreaker and Sideswipe limp back to base with Buddy in Prowl’s servos sniffling from the scratches they got. Ratchet: “… Do I even want to know?” Sunstreaker: “Well—” Ratchet: “No, not yet. Prowl hand Buddy over here.”

The beach sounded a bit safer.

Ratchet and Wheeljack made sure that everyone was well rehearsed in washing before and after coming out of the ocean.

Sunstreaker wasn’t a big fan of the beach, mainly because of the sand, but he was willing to toleratre it for one day.

For Buddy.

The toddler barely got out of the Arc except if it they had to go to school or visits from Verity.

From the parenting books for humans he read, getting outside was important for young humans.

A day at the beach was just what Buddy needed.

Buddy hops out of Sunstreaker’s alt mode and wigglings their toes into the warm sand. Buddy: “Let’s go!” Buddy is about to dash into the beach when Sunstreaker picks them up from their bathing suit and puts them on his servo. Sunstreaker: “Buddy, we talked about the sunblock and the… the… Sideswipe what are the thingy’s called again?” Sideswipe shrugs. Buddy: “Water wings!” Sunstreaker: “Yeah, that. Now let’s get you ready.” Later… Buddy: “Are you sure that it’s supposed to be like this Sunny?” Sunstreaker: “Positive.” Buddy: “Okay!” Buddy waddles onto the beach with a pair of water wings on their arms and another pair on their legs.

Sideswipe was excited to go in the water with Buddy.

It’s made clear to everyone that Buddy was NOT to go in the water without supervision.

If keeping track of them in the Arc was hard, then the vast beach and ocean was harder.

Especially since they still couldn’t swim.

Not like many of the bots could either, but they didn’t need oxygen.

A lot of bots went out to do their own things, whether wadding in the water, collecting seashells, or watching things go around in the beach.

Then there was the small group that played around with Buddy.

It was comical seeing these giant bots attempting to play volleyball with Buddy who was waddling around with two sets of water wings.

There was a mild panic when someone accidentally got sand in their eyes, and they began crying.

So many bots thought Buddy was getting murdered.

Ratchet washes Buddy’s face clean from sand with some water bottles.

Thank goodness Verity warned him about this.

 Sunstreaker put Buddy sunglasses… which they promptly dropped when they started feeling uncomfortable.

Sunstreaker: “C’mon Buddy. Put them back on.” Sunstreaker picks up the glasses and puts them in Buddy’s hands. Buddy pouts and throws them back down. Buddy: “Don’t wanna!” Sunstreaker groans. Sunstreaker: “Buddy. Put them on, now.” Buddy’s face starts turning red. Buddy: “No!” Jazz walks over. Jazz: “What’s the problem?” Sunstreaker: “Buddy doesn’t want to put on their glasses.” Jazz kneels at a pouting Buddy. Jazz: “Is that true?” Buddy nods furiously. Jazz: “Well… I gotta visor on. Its kinda like those glasses. Its better for your optics—I mean eyes, if you wear them.” Buddy pauses for a couple of seconds before grabbing the glasses, blowing the sand off and putting them on. Buddy: “Just like Jazz!” Jazz laughs and pats their head. Sunstreaker facepalms in the background.

Some of the bots managed to convince Optimus and Ratchet to get something sweet for Buddy.

They agreed.

Mainly because Buddy was sweating up a storm and looked flush.

Sunstreaker tried his best in teaching Buddy that the ice cream was to consume and not to wear on their face.

Buddy promptly sat down on a big inflatable flamingo and continued to eat their ice cream.

With Buddy preoccupied Some of the other bots could actually have a break.

They did not see the tide rising or the flamingo slowly floating out.

Buddy was blissfully unaware after eating their ice cream the rocking of the waves made them sleepy and decided to take a nap.

Optimus: “All right! Everyone clean up, we are heading out.” Ratchet: “You heard Prime! Wash up!” Sunstreaker: “Alright Buddy lets—” The flamingo is nowhere to be seen.” Sideswipe: “Hey Sunny we gotta—Primus… Where’s the flamingo!?” The pair spot the flamingo floating peacefully in the water. Sunstreaker: “Buddy!” The yellow mech runs straight into the water. He doesn’t make it far, realizing he could only go out until most of his chassis was under water. Still far from Buddy. He feels something wrap around his waist and yanks him back. Jazz had grappled him back. Sunstreaker: “Let me go! Buddy’s on the flamingo!” Prowl: “How? That thing wasn’t even close to the water when we came here?” Seaspray: “Probably the tides. Don’t worry I’ll get them.”

Buddy wakes up when they hear yelling and nearly falls off (Sunstreaker nearly fainted in the background) but is happy when they see Seaspray next to them.

They gladly hop onto his alt mode, narrowly missing the edge.

Sunstreaker kicks Sideswipe and runs into the water and makes it about chassis deep when Seaspray comes by.

Buddy makes grabby hands at Sunstreaker.

He happily gets the toddler in his arms.

Buddy sleeps the entire way back.

Sunstreaker is now asking Verity about swimming lessons.