#<- ​if you know something about me it is that i will caption a post this on every webbed site forever.

[playboysturns]

I don't know if this is a request or if it's just me wanting to share this extremely specific idea, but imagine Chris and the reader dating in secret for a LONG time and the news comes out on the internet, the reader starts getting hate and in every video there is someone commenting something like "Why did he choose to be with her?" and she simply responds to the comment with a video of her and Chris to the sound of "Pepsi" by Lana Del Rey (I don't know, this sounds really funny in my head)

drabble #1 'my 🐱 tastes like pepsi cola'

summary : Chris and reader finally make their relationship public to their fans on valentines day.

You met the triplets when you both moved to LA at the same time. It was easy to talk cause you were all youtubers and the four of you quickly became close since you didn’t know many other people in the city.

Chris and you hooked up when he was hanging out at your house, later confessing his feelings to you which you mutually shared. The both of you decided to take it slow as neither of you had been in a relationship before.

All your friends knew, it wasn’t a secret and there had been times where they had almost slipped up saying that you were both together.

You were seen hanging out with the three of them many times but fans had chalked it up to you being good friends with them, though none of you ever directly posted each other on your tiktok or youtube.

Chris wanted to keep your relationship private from the fans and you agreed since you both had seen first hand how they reacted when the triplets were friends with women. At this point though you been dating for a little over 2 years now, and finally decided it was the right time to share it with your fans.

“Wait why am I nervous” you giggle looking once over at the tiktok Chris was about to post. it was a video using the low life audio, it started with Chris laying on the couch singing the ‘sniper sniper sniper’ bit then the camera flipped to you show you straddling him lip syncing the ‘wifey wifey wifey’ part.

“Why? you look good,” Chris grips your hips, you were still in the same position as the tiktok.

“I don’t know what to caption it,” you hand Chris his phone watching him type a caption then showing it to you.

‘my valentines for the past 2 years ❤️🪄’

“Okay good, should I post it now,” You smile, both nervous and excited.

“Babe just press post,” Chris mutters from beneath you and you do just that putting his phone on silence and placing it on the coffee table.

“Right, no going on our phones for at least an hour,” you say Chris nodding in agreement. He picks up the remote to put on a movie whilst you lay down on top of him to cuddle.

“What the fuck!”

You move your head from the tv as Nick runs up the stairs from the front door his phone in hand, quickly followed by Matt.

“What?” Chris asks, Nick rolls his eyes before showing you his screen which was the tiktok you had posted.

“Kid we were literally at the In-n-Out drive through, then Nick screamed so loud I almost shat my pants,”

“It was not that loud so chill,” Nick puts his hand up.

“Not that loud, Nick I nearly rear-ended the car in front,” Matt replies, sternly.

“What else was I meant to do?” Nick rebuttals, stalking over to where you and Chris were laying.

“Not fucking scream? Acting like we didn’t know that they were dating the whole time” Matt sits on the couch.

“I mean it’s lowkey a monumental,” you feel Chris’ voice vibrating beneath your head.

“Exactly! we could’ve had a little heads up about it? Like my mentions are going fucking insane,” Nick huffs, turning his attention back to his phone. “The comments are like, kinda crazy right now so I wouldn’t check them.”

Now you were curious, sitting up you grab your phone that was besides Chris’ on the table quickly go to the tiktok on his account.

COMMENTS

y/n and chris sturniolo dating ⌕

@ sturnluvr : ain’t no way 💀

@ babysturns: are we skipping over the fact he put 2 years?

@ chrissgf : no hate but why would he choose her out of everyone…

↳ @ y/nclips : coming from an acc w no posts!

@ chrissturngirlfriend : i’m literally sobbing wtf

@ freshchris : do they do it 🥺

@ quenlinblackwell ✓ : MY PARENTS YESSS

@ stuniolosuperfan : fuck it atp matts wife and kid jokes may be real

↳ @ mattybswife : they are 😊 revealing myself as his wife ❤️

↳ @ mattsturnsbm : @ mattybswife tell him that the kids miss him 💔

@ princessy/n : what the fuck is wrong with the comments

@ strombolitriplets : i’m crying wtf do they even talk about 😭

@ madisonbeer ✓ : i love you both 🤍

@ sturnioloclips : TWO YEARS?

@ y/nswife : THIS IS AI UNTIL Y/N POSTS ON HER ACC!!

↳ @ princessy/n : yk damn well.. 😭

@ sturniolofan1 : someone tell me this is an early april fools.

@ user18274730 : wait cause they’re actually so cute wtf

You comb through them laughing, honestly you thought the reaction would be worse. Chris on the other hand was reading the comments over your shoulder.

“Fuck. I’m sorry about them,” Chris apologises, kissing your shoulder.

“Baby it’s fine. I thought they’d be way harsher” you turn to look at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“But your fans are so supportive.,” Chris sighs sadly.

“They’re just going to have to grow up and get over it,” Nick says turning his phone off to watch the movie on the screen.

You were both getting ready to go to sleep.

It had been a few hours since you had posted the video, and though you were fine with the response it was clear Chris was still a little upset.

“I want to turn the comments off,” Chris says scrolling through them, you sigh taking the phone from his hand. “Or at least respond to them.”

“There’s no need to turn the comments off or respond to anything,” you take a look at them yourself, the tiktok had blown up already having a million likes.

“But there is, you’re literally the most important person in my life and they can’t even respect it,” Chris throws himself onto his bed. “They’re asking why I would choose you when you’re the one that’s out of my league.”

“Okay we’ll do this then,” you click to video reply ‘@ chrissgf : no hate but why would he choose her out of everyone…’ selecting an audio before sitting next to Chris on the bed.

“What are you doing?” he watches in confusion as you put both of you on the camera.

You smile as you start the tiktok ‘my pussy taste like pepsi cola’ blares from his phone. You lipsync the song causing Chris to smile before the audio ends.

“There now they know,” you grin, Chris taking his phone to caption it before posting.

‘She tastes better than pepsi 😛’

notes from me : ik this wasn't super specific if it was a request but it got me thinking! this is my first time writing anything in a very long time so please bare with me, im sorry if the spacing is wrong this was just a quick write for the request. thank you @oceanabyssal

Happy Valentines Day! 💋 - playboysturns

[hisfavegirl]

Hey girl, I love your HOTD reactions sm! What about like how they would react if you did a VS or Skims collab for a Valentine’s day set or something??

HOTD Characters Reaction To Your Campaign With Skims

Aegon was in the middle of scrolling through his phone, lazily lounging on the couch when his screen suddenly froze.

The SKIMS Valentine’s Day campaign.

Your face. Your body. Draped in lingerie so sheer it might as well be a second skin. Red silk, lace, curves accentuated perfectly—a vision of absolute sin. The shot that made his blood boil the most?

You, on a plush pink bed, biting your lip, fingers tangled in your hair—wearing nothing but a dangerously tiny bra and lace garters. The caption?

“Indulge yourself this Valentine’s Day. ❤️ #SKIMSLove”

The likes and comments were flooding in, men thirsting over you in real-time:

“THIS is what I want for Valentine’s Day.”

“Bro, she’s actually unreal.”

“Forget flowers, I’m sending divorce papers to my wife.”

“I just know her man is LOSING HIS MIND.”

Yeah. He was.

Aegon shot up, phone clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. His jaw? Tight. His eyes? Dark. His entire body radiated possessiveness, his breath coming out in ragged bursts.

His first instinct? Call you. Right. Now. But then he thought—No. No, you fucking knew what you were doing. Posting this without telling him? Letting the entire world drool over you while he was just supposed to sit there and take it?

His next move? Damage control.

The internet absolutely lost its mind.

The moment Aegon dropped the video on his Instagram story, everything went insane.

The clip was short but devastating—you, bent over his bed, skin flushed, your bare back marked with his claim, trembling, moaning his name like a prayer, wrecked beyond comprehension. Aegon’s hand came into view, gripping your waist, his voice low and smug, whispering,

“Didn’t think I’d let that SKIMS stunt slide, did you, baby?”

The internet? BROKE.

Twitter/X Exploded:

“THIS MAN JUST ENDED THE ENTIRE MALE POPULATION WTF”

“Aegon Targaryen is the pettiest, most unhinged man alive and I respect it.”

“She posted SKIMS, he posted HER. This is WAR.”

“HOW is this allowed on Instagram? WHO reported it? WHOEVER YOU ARE, WE FIGHT AT DAWN.”

“Bro turned Valentine’s Day into a public execution.”

Instagram Comments on His Last Post:

“Sir. Some of us are SINGLE.”

“That’s it. I’m deleting my boyfriend.”

“Y’all seeing her LEGS SHAKING??? Nah this man is different.”

“I’m not okay. I will never be okay.”

“We were thirsting over her SKIMS shoot and Aegon said ‘bet.’”

TikTok Reactions:

POV edits of Aegon with captions like “When your man reminds the world who you belong to 😵‍💫🔥”

Audio clips of “I want what they have” over slow-mo replays of the video

Girls fake crying into the camera with captions like “Me realizing I’ll never be this girl”

Reddit Threads:

r/popculturegossip

“Aegon Targaryen just HARD LAUNCHED his revenge arc, and I’ve never felt so single.”

“This is the most unhinged flex of all time, and I need therapy.”

“So we all agree he’s the pettiest man alive, right?"

Instagram eventually took the video down—but it was too late. Screenshots, edits, and memes had already flooded the internet. Aegon had won the war, and the internet was never recovering.

The second Aemond saw the photos—you, draped in delicate lace, barely covered, staring into the camera with that knowing, sultry look—his jaw clenched so tight it could snap.

His phone nearly cracked in his grip as he scrolled through the thousands of comments under the post:

“Mother is mothering.”

“Aemond is officially the luckiest man alive.”

“The male species has been defeated. We are but peasants.”

“You’re telling me this woman goes home to HIM??? Jail.”

A deep, dark chuckle left his lips—but it wasn’t amusement. It was pure, seething possession.

His eye twitched, his breathing heavy as he saw the likes flooding in—from men. From verified blue checks. From random nobodies who had no business looking at you like that.

“The fuck is this, darling?” His voice was deadly calm, but the way he stalked toward you, phone in hand, told you everything.

“A campaign.” You blinked at him, innocent. “For SKIMS.”

“A fucking campaign?” He scoffed, throwing his phone onto the table as he cornered you. “So that’s what we’re doing now? Letting every goddamn man on the internet see what’s MINE?”

He was pissed. Jealous. Possessive. His fingers traced up your arm, then gripped your jaw, tilting your face up to him.

“Tell me, did you enjoy it?” His voice dropped lower, dangerously soft. “Did you like having them all drooling over you?”

His eye burned into you, jaw tight as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Because now you’re going to remind them who you belong to.”

Aemond never lost control—but tonight? You were in for it.

The second Aemond posted the video, the internet broke.

It wasn’t just a thirst trap. It was a declaration. A warning. A final nail in the coffin for every man who thought they had a chance.

The clip was grainy, filmed through the dim light of his bedroom—his signature aesthetic. You were wrecked on his bed, wrists bound, body shaking, barely able to form a word except his name—moaned like a prayer, like a confession.

And Aemond? His signature smirk could be heard in his voice when he murmured:

“This is what happens when you forget who you belong to.”

Instagram Exploded :

“IS THIS EVEN ALLOWED???”

“So we’re just posting full-course MEALS now????”

“The way she’s literally trembling… yeah, I lost.”

"‘This is what happens when you forget who you belong to’ BRO CAN WE BREATHE???”

“The SKIMS campaign was for US. This? This was for HIM.”

“Aemond said, ‘You wanna model lingerie? Fine. Now model MY BED.’”

“The way she’s just a mess for him… If my man doesn’t love me like this, I DON’T WANT IT.”

Within minutes, Twitter (X) was on fire.

#AemondTargaryen

#SheBelongsToHim

#TiedUpForAemond

#OneEyedKing

Trending. Everywhere.

TWITTER/X MELTDOWN:

“I HAVEN’T EVEN RECOVERED FROM HER SKIMS SHOOT AND NOW THIS????”

“This man really said ‘revenge’ and ENDED US ALL.”

"Aemond Targaryen is a MENACE. I hate him. (I’m lying. I love him.)”

“THIS IS THE MOST POSSESSIVE, FILTHY, UNHINGED, HOTTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN. HELP ME.”

TIKTOK COMMENTS UNDER THE VIDEO:

Pinned by Aemond Targaryen : “Revenge is sweet, baby."

“My FBI agent just logged out. This is TOO MUCH.”

“This is NOT just a revenge post—THIS IS A WARNING.”

“Imagine posting a SKIMS campaign and your man drops THIS as a response… She WINS.”

“Her Skims photos were for US. Aemond’s revenge was for HIM.”

Meanwhile, Aemond? He just sat back, smirking at his phone as he watched the world come to terms with what they already knew.

You were his. And there was no escaping it.

Jace never had an issue with you modeling. Until now.

He was in a meeting when his phone started blowing up. At first, he ignored it—until Aegon sent him a link with nothing but:

“LMAO. You good, bro?”

Frowning, Jace clicked.

And there you were.

Draped in red lace. Skin glowing. Eyes hooded. Posing in a way that had every man on the planet foaming at the mouth. The SKIMS Valentine’s campaign had dropped, and you were the star.

The moment he saw the lingerie—saw the way your body looked in it—his jaw locked so tight it could crack.

And then he saw the comments.

“I just KNOW Jace is punching the air rn.”

“She’s too fine. If he won’t wife her, I WILL.”

“Jace, be so serious… How does it feel to lose?”

“Why does she look single in these photos???”

“Jace, if you fumble, I’m RIGHT HERE.”

The moment the meeting ended, Jace stormed out of the office, grabbing his phone and calling you immediately.

You picked up, cheerful—which only pissed him off more.

“You having fun?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You giggled. “Jacey, baby, did you see the campaign?”

“Oh, I saw it. So did the rest of the fucking world.”

You hummed, unbothered. “And?”

Jace ran a hand through his curls, breathing hard. He could see the photos in his mind—how every man was lusting over you.

His girl.

And the worst part?

You knew exactly what you were doing.

“And,” he growled, “you better be home when I get there.”

“Why?” you teased, voice all sweetness and sin.

Jace let out a dark chuckle. “So I can remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

One minute, people were thirsting over your SKIMS campaign, and the next?

Jace dropped a bomb.

A video.

A very explicit video.

You, bare, ruined, trembling on his bed. Voice completely gone. Every breath ragged. Body shaking violently. Jace’s hand on your ass, smacking every time you tried to move away. His voice? Dark. Dangerous. Possessive.

“Was it worth it, baby? Hm? Letting the whole world see you like that? Look at you now—can’t even talk, can’t even move. Next time you wanna tease me, remember who the fuck you belong to.”

And his caption? Head Shot.

“Since y’all were so thirsty for her SKIMS campaign, here’s what happened after. Enjoy.”

Instagram Comments :

“JACE, WTF IS THIS? I CAN’T BREATHE.”

“He saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘bet.’”

“NAH, THIS IS BIBLICAL. HER VOICE? GONE. BODY? FINISHED. JACE?? LAUGHING IN HER EAR?”

“This man took it PERSONAL LMFAO.”

“I ain’t never seen a man HUMBLED this fast 😭”

“THE WAY HE’S WHISPERING TO HER AND HIS HAND?? Y’ALL. I NEED HOLY WATER.”

“Her body shaking and his palm smacking down… Yeah. Yeah. That’s a man.”

“Jace saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘MY GIRL. MINE.’”

“You just KNOW he was PISSED when he saw those lingerie pics 😭.”

“She went from SKIMS model to Jace’s favorite meal real fast.”

“THE WHOLE VIDEO IS JUST HIM RUINING HER LIFE AND HER LETTING HIM 😭.”

“I need everyone involved in this video ARRESTED.”

“Bro uploaded this like a warning. Like, ‘you thought you were single in those photos? Here’s your reminder.’”

“HE REALLY POSTED THIS AS REVENGE FOR SKIMS. THIS IS A POWER MOVE.”



TWITTER REACTIONS : Trending Topics:

#JaceVelaryon

#JusticeForHerVoice

#SKIMSRevenge

#IsSheAlive??

Comments :

“Jace is actually insane for posting this. HER BODY IS SHAKING. HER VOICE IS GONE. AND HE’S JUST THERE, WHISPERING AND LAUGHING??? HELLO???”

“You KNOW he was mad about SKIMS cause why is this video a whole RESPONSE??? 😭”

“If my man doesn’t ruin me like this after I piss him off, I don’t want him.”

“Jace: ‘You wanna do a lingerie campaign and let men thirst over you? Cool. But they’re gonna watch you break for ME.’”

“Jace really saw those SKIMS pics, picked up his phone, and said: ‘hold my beer.’”

“THAT MAN POSTED A WHOLE MOVIE. AMAZON PRIME COULD NEVER."

TIKTOK REACTIONS: Viral TikTok Caption

“POV: Jace Velaryon took his SKIMS revenge to another level and now we’re all screaming, crying, throwing up.”

Sound: Cardi B screaming “WHAT WAS THE REASON?!”

“Y’all, Jace didn’t just claim his girl. He PLANTED HIS FLAG.”

“Her legs shaking and him laughing about it…? Yeah. I need therapy.”

“Jace’s hand on her ass, the way she arched, the way he smacked down??? I HAVE NEVER KNOWN PEACE.”

FINAL VERDICT:

The internet is absolutely UNWELL. Jace won. You? Finished. The SKIMS campaign? Irrelevant.

The moment Daemon sees the SKIMS campaign, his entire demeanor shifts. He had been lounging in his office, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone—until your face, your body, wrapped in delicate lace, fills his screen. His jaw clenches, his grip on the phone tightening as he watches you pose effortlessly, seductive and stunning, every inch of you made to be worshipped.

And so were the thousands of comments under the post.

“She’s an angel AND a sin. How is that fair?”

“I need her. No, actually, I’ll die without her.”

“Whoever her man is, I hope he knows he lost her to the world today.”

Daemon lets out a dark chuckle, but there’s nothing amused about it. His blood is boiling, his possessiveness clawing at his insides. Lost you to the world? They had no idea who they were talking about.

With a sharp inhale, he slams his phone down on the desk and gets up, pacing the room. His mind races. He knows you love teasing him, knows you like pushing boundaries—but this? This was a direct challenge. A test. And Daemon Targaryen does not lose.

Grabbing his car keys, he heads straight for you. No calls. No texts. You knew what you had done. Now? Now, you’d deal with the consequences.

The internet exploded within minutes of Daemon’s post.

No caption. No explanation. Just you, completely wrecked—your expression dazed, mouth parted as soft whimpers left your lips. His hand cradled your face, slapping your cheek with a teasing, mocking rhythm. And though his other hand wasn’t in frame, the wetness sounds that filled the video left no room for imagination.

Twitter/X:

“WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH???”

“Daemon just said ‘she’s MINE’ without saying a single damn word.”

“This man saw the SKIMS shoot and said ‘bet’ 😭”

“HELP ME I CAN’T BREATHE WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SOUNDS???”

Instagram Comments:

“Okay but the way she looks at him?? That’s not just lust, that’s ruin.”

“He posted this just to remind everyone he owns her and honestly? It worked.”

“WHO ALLOWED THIS TO BE ON MY FEED??? I have work in the morning.”

“I feel like I just saw something I shouldn’t have… and yet I can’t stop watching.”

TikTok Reactions:

Edits of the SKIMS shoot transitioning to Daemon’s video with captions like:

“She teased him, and he answered.”

“SKIMS said ‘sexy’—Daemon said ‘MINE’.”

Compilation of reactions to the sound alone, with people throwing their phones across the room or covering their faces in shock.

Reddit Threads:

“Daemon Targaryen just changed the internet forever.”

“The SKIMS campaign was a declaration. Daemon’s video? A WAR CRIME.”

“How do we recover from this? WE DON’T.”

While some were losing their minds over the intensity, others were spiraling at the undeniable claim staked in that video. Daemon wanted the world to know—you were his, and no amount of cameras or campaigns would ever change that.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons @callsignwidow

Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for letting me using your dividers ❤️‍🩹

[reveriebae]

You Wrote That For Me, Didn't You?

pairing(s) : Idol!Yunho x Atiny!reader

word count : 1931

summary : After casually revealing your face on Tumblr, a well-known smut writer attend an ATEEZ fan meet, unaware of the consequences. When you sit in front of Yunho, something feels off—the way he looks at you, the way he lingers. Then, just before her time is up, he drops a bombshell. He follows your account. He’s read everything. And he’s not letting you go that easily.

genre : suggestive

warning(s) : Slight dub-con vibes (power imbalance), heavy tension, teasing, suggestive language, explicit themes, idol-reader dynamics, Yunho being way too confident and knowing, mild obsession undertones, reader’s worst (or best?) nightmare coming true. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N : this one got my toes curling SKSKKSKSKSK. Should I make part two?🤔

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐fic under the cut🪐

You never thought twice before posting your fics. Why would you? It was just writing—just words strung together for thirsty Atinys who craved something a little more. Some of your works had gone viral, and you had a loyal following of readers who loved every filthy thing you put out.

So when you finally did a face reveal on your Tumblr, you didn’t think much of it. A casual selfie, captioned with something dumb like “Since y’all keep asking… here, take it”. A few hundred likes, some teasing comments, and that was that.

No big deal.

At least, that’s what you thought.

The excitement of the fan meet buzzed in your veins as you finally sat down in front of Yunho. Seeing him this close was unreal—the warmth of his presence, the way his smile reached his eyes, the deep, smooth hum of his voice as he greeted you.

But something felt off.

You couldn’t quite place it at first. It was subtle—just the way his gaze lingered, a little longer than it should. The way he studied your face like he was placing you, as if you weren’t just another fan in his long line of meet-and-greet interactions.

Then came the compliment.

“You’re really pretty in person,” he murmured, and his voice had a weight to it, like there was something more behind the words.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Ah—thank you!”

The response felt automatic, but your brain was still trying to process the way he was looking at you. Not just with the usual idol-to-fan warmth, but with something… different. Like he knew you.

His fingers tapped lightly against the table, rhythmic and patient, as if he was waiting for something. Then, just as the staff was about to signal your turn was up, Yunho leaned in ever so slightly.

And then he said it.

“You should be more careful about what you post, Jagiya.”

Your body stiffened.

Your mind blanked.

Did he just—

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, eyes widening in pure, unfiltered panic. But Yunho? Yunho just smiled. A slow, knowing curve of his lips, dark amusement flickering in his gaze.

“I follow you on Tumblr,” he continued, voice dropping just enough that only you could hear. His tone was smooth, casual, like he was discussing the weather. Like he wasn’t completely wrecking your reality in real time.

Your stomach twisted. No, this had to be a joke. A coincidence. There was no way—

“Mm.” His fingers brushed against the table, casual and lazy. “I recognized you the moment I saw your selfie.”

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

You had so much smut on that account. And not just any smut—detailed, filthy scenarios that had Yunho doing things that could get you banned just for thinking about them too hard.

“I—” Your voice came out weak, shaky, and you were suddenly painfully aware of how warm your face was.

Yunho chuckled, the sound low and pleased. “You look flustered,” he mused. “Why? You weren’t shy when you wrote all those things about me.”

He was teasing you.

No—he was toying with you.

Your fingers clenched around the edge of the table as you swallowed hard, trying to force your brain to work. But you could barely breathe under his gaze, let alone form a response.

He leaned in just a little more, close enough that you could catch the faintest hint of his cologne. His voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the edge behind it when he said—

“You wrote that for me, didn’t you?”

Your time was up.

The staff was gently urging you to move along, but you couldn’t move—wouldn’t—until Yunho tilted his head, gaze flickering to the line behind you.

Then, just before you stood up, he murmured one last thing—low, quiet, for your ears only.

“See you later, baby.”

You walked away from the table in a daze.

The voices of other fans, the bright lights, the excited chatter—everything blurred into a distant hum, like white noise. Your body moved on instinct, following the line toward the exit, but your mind was stuck. Frozen.

Yunho knew.

Yunho read your fics.

Yunho—Jeong Yunho—had been watching your blog, scrolling through your late-night thirst posts, reading every filthy thought you had ever put into words.

Your breath shuddered as you stepped outside the venue, the cool night air doing little to calm the heat burning under your skin. Your heart was pounding—too fast, too hard—like you had just run miles instead of sitting for a harmless fan meet.

Except it wasn’t harmless.

Because Yunho’s voice was still ringing in your ears.

"You wrote that for me, didn't you?"

A shiver ran down your spine, and you had to physically shake your head, trying to snap yourself out of it. No. No, there was no way this was real. Maybe you had misheard him. Maybe he was just teasing.

Maybe—

Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

You nearly dropped it when you pulled it out, fingers trembling as you glanced at the screen. A notification from Tumblr. Someone had just liked one of your posts.

A post from two years ago.

Your stomach dropped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you opened the app. The notification led you straight to the post—a particularly filthy piece about Yunho, one that had gone semi-viral when you first wrote it. And sitting right there, at the top of the notes—

A new like.

From a user you didn’t recognize.

Your pulse hammered as you clicked on the profile. It was nearly empty—just a default avatar, no posts, no bio. But there was one thing.

The blog name.

"ateezyunho1999."

Your mouth went dry.

No. No, no, no, this had to be a joke.

Then another notification popped up.

A message.

Your vision blurred for a second as you forced yourself to tap on it, breath shallow as you read the words.

"Come outside."

A pause.

Then—

"I'll be waiting."

Your hands shook as you stared at the message.

You could feel your own pulse in your throat, hammering like a warning. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Yunho was an idol. A celebrity. There was no way he would actually—

Your phone buzzed again.

The third message.

"Don't make me wait, baby."

The air in your lungs turned heavy. Your brain screamed at you to walk away, to ignore it, to go home and pretend none of this ever happened.

But your body?

Your body was already moving.

Like you had no control over yourself, your feet carried you toward the back of the venue, slipping past groups of lingering fans, past the staff still bustling around. You shouldn’t be doing this. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this.

And yet—

As soon as you turned the corner, stepping into the dimly lit alley behind the building, you felt him before you even saw him.

Yunho.

He was leaning against the side of a sleek black car, one hand tucked into the pocket of his coat, the other holding his phone. The glow of the screen lit up his face, casting soft shadows along the sharp angles of his jawline. But it wasn’t the way he looked that sent a shiver down your spine.

It was the way he smirked when he saw you.

Slowly, he slipped his phone into his pocket, pushing off the car as he took a step toward you.

“You listen well,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk. “That’s good.”

You should have said something. Anything. But your tongue felt heavy, thoughts tangled into knots as you stood frozen in place.

Yunho tilted his head, eyes flickering over you in a slow, deliberate sweep. His gaze was too knowing, too intimate—like he had already stripped you down in his mind.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come,” he continued, his tone almost teasing. “But then again…”

A pause.

Then—

“I know what you want.”

Your breath caught.

Yunho chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. He took another step forward, closing the distance between you inch by inch. He was so tall, so effortlessly imposing, and when he finally stopped in front of you, the heat of his body was enough to make your skin prickle.

“You didn’t think I’d notice you, did you?” His voice dipped lower, smooth like honey but edged with something darker. “You wrote all those filthy little things about me, and yet, when I look at you now…”

He reached out, fingers brushing along the side of your jaw, so lightly it almost wasn’t a touch at all.

“You look so shy.”

A slow smirk curled at his lips as he leaned in, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“Tell me, baby.” His voice was a whisper now, barely audible, but it wrapped around you like a vice.

“Do I match your imagination?”

Your breath came shallow, uneven.

The question sent a violent shiver through you.

You wanted to deny it. To shake your head, pretend you weren’t completely unraveling under his gaze. But the moment you tried to step back, his hand moved.

A firm grip on your chin.

Not rough, not forceful—just enough to keep you still. Enough to make your knees weaken.

He hummed, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. His thumb brushed along your lower lip, and his gaze darkened.

“You’re not answering,” he murmured. “That’s cute.”

Your heart pounded so hard it hurt.

This was dangerous. This was a situation you had only ever fantasized about—except now, reality was so much worse. Because in your fics, Yunho was just a character, a version of him built from your own desires.

But this Yunho?

This Yunho was real. And he had read everything.

His thumb pressed against your lip, just enough to make you part them. The smirk that followed was pure sin.

“Mm,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “I wonder…”

He let the word hang in the air as his fingers trailed down, a featherlight touch along the column of your throat. A tease. A warning.

“Does the way I touch you match your imagination, too?”

Heat pooled deep in your stomach, a slow, unbearable ache curling at your core. Your body betrayed you before you could even think—back arching just slightly, like you were reaching for more.

Yunho saw it.

And he liked it.

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest, deep and pleased. “Ah,” he sighed, thumb tapping against your chin. “So responsive.”

Then, just when you thought he might close the distance completely, he pulled back just enough. Enough to leave you breathless, desperate.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was deceptively gentle, like he wasn’t the same man who had just whispered filth into your ear moments ago.

Then, his lips curled again. That smirk.

“I should get going,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just ruined you with a few words and touches.

Your body screamed in protest, but before you could even think of stopping him, he was already turning toward the sleek black car parked nearby.

The door opened. He paused. Then—

He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes locking onto yours one last time.

“Don’t stop writing,” he murmured. “I like seeing what you come up with.”

A slow, teasing wink.

And then—

He was gone.

[giveafike]

So uhm.. what are the chances of a follow up of "is it new years yet?" 👀👀

TLDR: part 2 to is it new years yet? recc to read that FIRST before reading this :)

Word count + info: 4.8k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Cussing.

Azzie Notes ✚: happy valentines day, my loves! So cute to build onto a seasonal special with ANOTHER seasonal special. Hope this lives up to the first part, anon! Loosely reminds me of Valentine by Laufey. Whether you're spending today alone, with family, with friends or with loved ones (or something in between all that) spend it loving the little bits and pieces of the day!

Taglist: thank u for ur support! if u wanna join the taglist, head on over here

🌙 - @le-moon-nade @anneioe @maya1the-bee @miss-d-d @hannahbanannax @mfcvbs @egevtntn @the-aizzlee @hello-missunperfect-things @joeybisbootiful @2manytabsopen 🌕 - @starlitf0x

blinked & suddenly, I had a valentine - B.T.S

————————————————————————

You chew your lip, scrolling through your camera roll for a photo that looks effortless but nonchalant. Something casual, mellow, like you didn’t spend way too long overthinking it. Which, obviously, you did. You were back in Florida, so you knew you would add a location tag - you were in a trendy little café downtown, where you and your friends were celebrating an early Galentine’s.

The air smells like espresso and overpriced pastries, your table cluttered with half-eaten croissants and empty mimosa glasses. Laughter and chaotic debate fill the space, but your focus is elsewhere. Specifically, on your phone. And, more specifically, on him.

You and Ben have been texting after New Year's Eve, or well, had been texting. At first, it was easy; inside jokes, dumb memes, conversations that left butterflies in the pit of your stomach and a dumb smile on your face, the kind of late-night conversations that left you curled up and eager for more. But then his tour picked up, college welcomed you back with a smack in the face that hit you like a truck, and the messages became… sparse. Shorter. Drier. Less fun. Now, checking in feels less like catching up and more like pestering. You already know how he’s doing, his last match was all over your feed. But that’s not the same, and you hate that it matters so much. You missed the way he’d send you random voice notes mid-practice or from his car drives, his voice slightly breathless as he joked about being worked to death. Or the way he’d text you after posting a clip of his sessions, asking if you’d seen his “epic comeback” (his words, not yours).

But lately? Crickets. You knew he was back here, in Florida, but you couldn't bring yourself to reach out, something about it felt like begging, especially during a week like Valentine's week.

You sigh, finally settling on a photo of your latte, some attempt at a heart in the foam that looks more like a deflated kidney. Whatever. You add a location tag and caption: Nothing says love like overpriced coffee and talking shit with your best friends <3.

Before you can second-guess it, you post. Your phone barely touches the table before you get side-eyed.

“Alright, who’s got you checking your phone like you’re waiting on exam results?”

You scoff, reaching for a croissant. “No one.”

A pointed silence follows. “So you’re just emotionally invested in your Instagram engagement now?”

Another voice chippers in. “Is it Ben?”

Your dramatic eye-roll gives you away immediately. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh my God, he ghosted you.”

You nearly choke. “He did not! We’ve just… been busy.”

“So he part-time ghosted you,” she corrects.

“He’s on tour, I’m drowning in school, it’s not that deep, we're busy people,” you argue, but even you don’t sound convinced.

“Right. And that’s why you’ve been on your phone all morning like a middle-aged woman tracking her kid’s live location?”

You groan, dropping your head onto the table. “I hate you both.”

“No, you miss him,” Liv singsongs, and you blindly throw a sugar packet at her.

Then, your phone buzzes.

You glance at the screen, expecting a notification from your emails. But it’s from Instagram already.

Your phone vibrates, but you ignore it. Then another buzz. The kind that isn’t a text, but an Instagram notification. You glance, just for a second.

Ben Shelton liked your story.

Your stomach does a stupid little flip. Because of course he saw it. Of course he engaged with it just enough to let you know he saw it, but not enough to actually text.

You lock your phone and flip it over.

“Wow...You put your phone face-down. That’s serious.”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I’m putting it on Do Not Disturb because I’m not doing this today.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

And honestly? It lasts longer than you expect.

Shopping and side-errands keep you busy. There’s a chaotic half-hour where you all try on the dumbest Valentine-themed products and clothes you can find, one of your friends strutting out of a dressing room in the ugliest fur coat imaginable, another trying to convince everyone that this is the year they finally pull off red leather pants. You nearly cry-laugh in the middle of the store.

By the time you sit down for a late lunch-early dinner with the rest of your friends after their classes and shifts, the energy is still high. Pasta is being passed around, drinks are clinking, and someone is dramatically rehashing a dating horror story from last semester. Your phone stays buried in your bag.

Until-

“You know, you haven’t checked your phone in, like, hours.”

You blink. “Yeah? And?”

“And... I think you should.”

There’s a sudden hush at the table, eyes darting expectingly. It’s suspicious as hell.

You hesitate, but finally, dig your phone out. You tap the screen, unlocking it. A flood of notifications. Instagram likes, a missed call from your mom, a “lmk if you’re alive” text from your uni group chat. And then-

A text from him. Sent hours ago.

Ben: Crazy Galentine’s in FL? Bold choice. You holding up without me?

Your stomach flips. Again. You hate that it keeps doing that.

Someone is already trying to peek over your shoulder. “Oh my God. I knew it!”

You angle your phone away. “Mind your business.”

“So what’s he saying?”

“You’re blushing!!”

You close your eyes. Inhale, exhale, then start typing.

You: Holding up just fine, thanks. But this croissant’s got more personality than you’ve shown in weeks.

His reply is instant.

Ben: Ouch. Guess I’ll have to step up my game. What are you doing for the actual Valentine’s Day?

Your friends let out a scream so high-pitched that the next table turns to stare. You have to lean over to clamp a hand over her mouth. The reactions are so grandeur, you’d think they just got proposed to over text.

“HE’S ASKING YOU OUT!”

Your brain short-circuits. “Or, hear me out now, he’s just making conversation.”

Your phone gets snatched from your hands before you can hesitate.

“Nope. Not letting you overthink this.” She types something and tosses it back.

“What the fuck-”

You: Why? You got plans for me?

Your stomach knots as you watch the typing bubble pop up. Then disappear. Then pop up again. It does this for a few beats.

Ben: Maybe I do. You still free for me?

The smiles around the table are like you won the lottery itself, while you're being shaken and cheered around.

And you? You’re so fucking done for. The colour drains out of your face, mouth agape. Your head is in your hands. Gripping your hair at the roots. You’re barely processing the conversation around you, the clinking glasses, the exaggerated cheers.

“She’s frozen. She’s actually in shock.”

“This is so big. Like, national emergency big. Potential WAG in the making right now"

“She’s been single on Valentine’s Day since God knows when, so yeah, this is huge.”

You groan, tilting your head back. “Stop! You guys are so dramatic.”

“We’re just invested.”

You peek at your phone again, heart doing that stupid fucking thing where it stutters in your chest. The text stares back at you.

Ben: Maybe I do. You still free for me?

You exhale, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. You should probably answer. Like a normal person. But your brain is running on pure static.

What do you even say?

Yeah, totally free to publicly humiliate myself on a date?

Sorry, I can’t, I’m busy hyperventilating into my hands?

No. You need to be cool. Nonchalant. Demure.

You tap out a reply.

You: Yes. I’ll text you later, yeah?

It sends. And immediately, the second-guessing starts. Does that sound uninterested? Dismissive? Did you just ruin everything?

Your phone vibrates again.

Ben: Ye, of course. Don’t wanna interrupt your Galentine’s 👯

Another one, almost instantly:

Ben: Text me when you get home

Your face is so hot it could combust. You shove your phone down onto the table with a clatter. “Okay. Done. It’s over.”

But the excitement around you only amplifies.

“You have to reply later.”

“Obviously.” You scoff, playing it off.

“Wait.” A pause. “What are you wearing?”

The question lands like a grenade in your brain.

Oh. Fuck.

You have nothing. Nothing.

The horror must be evident on your face because gasps are let out. “Oh my God. She doesn’t have an outfit.”

The realisation spreads like wildfire.

“You cannot pull up in one of your boring sweaters.”

“Or those beat up shoes you refuse to throw out.”

“We need a game plan.”

And before you know it, someone is yanking out their phone, another is calling out malls, checking store hours.

“There is one tiny mall still open, but we have, like, an hour before they close. We have to go. Now.”

It’s ridiculous. It’s unnecessary. It’s cutting it so fucking close. But here you were dragged to the car while the rest of your table closed off dinner and paid the tabs.

"Get in, loser. We're going shopping."

"Did you just-"

"Yes, I Mean Girls-ed you. Get in! You're not driving, you drank and well last time you drove was New Year-"

"Ok no need to reopen old wounds." You scowl.

You barely have time to process before you’re shoved into the passenger seat, another friend slamming the back door shut behind them. The car peels out of the parking lot like you’re on the run from the law, not just sprinting to find a decent date outfit before the mall locks its doors.

"This is absolutely unhinged," you mutter, gripping the handle as your friend takes a sharp turn.

"You waited years for this. If you think I’m letting you pull up in some tragic little sweater and jeans combo, you’re out of your mind."

“I have good sweaters!"

"No. You do not."

The drive is a chaotic mess of bad playlist choices and a very heated discussion about what vibe you should be going for. Sexy-but-classy? Effortlessly cool? Girl-next-door-but-hot?

Your other friend, scrolling furiously, holds up a photo of some influencer in a red dress. "This."

You glance. "I am not wearing that."

"It’s literally Valentine’s Day, it’s themed-"

"I don’t care if it’s Cupid-approved, I am not rolling up looking like a walking heart emoji."

"Fine. What about-"

"Not the fucking leather pants, either."

Your friend groans, tossing their phone onto their lap. "You’re the worst."

The mall comes into view just as the GPS announces, "Your destination will be closing in 45 minutes."

"Oh, we have to haul ass."

And haul ass, you do.

The second you step into the store, your friend takes immediate command. "You- go find shoes. You- see if they have any decent dresses. You- well, just…try not to panic."

"Very helpful, thanks," you deadpan.

"You're welcome!"

The next thirty minutes are a blur of colour, unenthusiastic employees, fabric, and absolute mayhem. It feels like a Disney movie. You’re shoved into a dressing room with a handful of outfits, half of which are so out of your comfort zone that you genuinely wonder if your friends are trying to prank you.

One friend flings open the curtain. "Show us!"

"No."

A chorus of complaints erupts.

"Come on."

"This is a team effort."

You groan, reluctantly stepping out. "I look stupid."

Your friend gasps. "You look hot."

Another nods in approval. "Yeah, Ben is gonna die."

You cross your arms, looking in the mirror, smoothing over the dress. "I don’t know…"

"Trust me. When he sees you? He’s done for."

You turn back to the mirror. Okay… Maybe it’s not the worst. Maybe…you actually like it.

Maybe…this is real. Maybe it had just been a while since you last wore a dress, got dolled up for a date. And maybe, for the first time, you’re kind of excited for what happens next.

When you finally make it home, you’re wrecked. The shopping bags dig into your wrists, your feet ache, and the only thing standing between you and a glorious face-plant into your bed is the sheer force of will it takes to dump everything onto your chair instead of the floor.

You’re halfway to unconsciousness, sprawled out, limbs all over the place, when your phone buzzes.

u better text ben before u pass out lol

You groan into your pillow.

Your brain is already half-asleep, but fine. You’ll send a quick text, something chill, something casual.

You roll onto your side, grab your phone, and unlock it, squinting at the screen through the exhaustion. Ben’s last text is still sitting there, waiting for a reply.

Ben: Text me when you get home

You exhale, tapping the message.

You: I'm home now

Except. That’s not what happens.

Because your finger slips.

And instead of typing, you misfire straight into calling him. Your heart drops.

“Oh, fuck-”

You try to hit end, but it’s too late. The call screen pops up. His name. The dial tone. Your brain malfunctions.

And then-

Click.

"Hello?"

You black out. Not really. But it feels like it.

There’s a pause, and then Ben lets out a confused laugh. "Uh… you good?"

"I-" You bolt upright like that somehow helps. "That wasn’t on purpose."

He snickers. "Yeah, no kidding. You butt-dial me or something?"

"No!" You wince. "I mean- well, kind of. I was trying to text you, but I misclicked, and now-" You groan, rubbing your face. "Now we’re talking, I guess."

"Well, I'm not complaining." His voice is warm, amused. "But I gotta admit, didn't expect to hear from you this soon."

Your stomach flips. "Yeah, well, neither did I."

There’s a slight pause. Not awkward, just… there. A beat of something unspoken. Ben exhales. "So. Crazy Galentine’s, huh? You still survivin'?"

"Barely." You slump back against your pillows. "You know how dangerous last-minute shopping can get. I think I saw my life flash before my eyes 20 minutes in."

"Tragic way to go."

"I know." You grin. "How about you? Survive your Florida homecoming after your first two tournaments?"

"Hangin' in there." He sounds a little distracted, then there’s a muffled thud, like he’s just flopped onto a bed. "Was starting to think I scared you off."

"What?" Your brows furrow. "Why would you think that?"

"I don’t know, you kinda went ghost on me for a bit. Thought maybe you were over it."

Your pulse stutters. "Over what?"

Ben pauses. "You tell me."

And there it is.

That thing. The thing that’s been sitting between you for weeks.

You chew your lip, shifting slightly. "I wasn’t over anything. I just… didn’t wanna bug you."

"Bug me?" He scoffs. "You think I don't wanna hear from you?"

"You were busy! I saw all the interviews and clips. I figured, I don’t know-" You exhale. "I didn’t wanna be that person."

"What person?"

"The one forcing a conversation when the other person clearly has a million other things going on."

There’s a beat of silence. Then Ben lets out a soft laugh, one of those exasperated, are you serious? kind of laughs. "You’re an idiot, man."

"Excuse me?"

"You think I wouldn’t make time for you?" His voice is lower now, softer. "Come on. We both know that’s bullshit."

You swallow. "I-"

"I like talking to you." The words are simple. Easy. "And if I’ve been dry lately, it’s not ‘cause I don’t want to. It’s ‘cause I suck at this. The whole, like… keeping up with someone while traveling thing. But I don’t want you thinking I don’t care."

Your chest does something stupid. Tightens. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

You let that sit for a second.

And then, because your brain is the way it is, you mutter, "Still think the croissant had more personality than you these last few weeks."

Ben laughs, this full, real laugh that makes your face heat. "Alright, alright, I deserved that one."

"You did."

"Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, huh?"

Your stomach flips. "Guess so."

There’s a pause, and you can hear his smirk through the phone. "So. What are you wearing for our date?"

"Woah... That’s a very bold question, Benjamin."

He chuckles, you can hear the smile in his voice. "Just trying to see if I'll be matchin' or not."

"I assume you're not planning on wearing the same dress as me, so don't worry," you say quickly. "And I’m not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Because you’ll just have to wait and see."

He groans dramatically. "Ugh, torture."

You laugh. "You’ll live."

"Debatable."

There’s another pause. A softer one. "You gonna sleep soon?" he asks.

"I should," you admit. "But this is nice."

Ben hums. "Yeah. It is."

Your eyelids feel heavy now, exhaustion creeping back in. You sink deeper into your blankets. "Okay. I’m really hanging up this time."

"Sure you are."

"Ben."

"Alright, alright. Sleep tight, Valentine."

You barely process the words before he hangs up. You’re left staring at your screen, warmth curling in your chest, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to sleep after that.

Somehow you manage to still your beating heart and fluttering stomach. The next day starts with a few good luck messages from your friends.

Hope you’re ready for your date, miss WAG Valentine’s girl 😏

Don’t overthink it. Just have fun. And don’t let him see you panic

If you cancel, I swear to God, I will show up at your house and force you out myself

You roll your eyes but smile. Then, the rest of the day is eerily quiet. For the first time in weeks, you’re alone. No bustling friend group, no plans. Just you, your apartment, and a long list of things you should be doing.

Laundry, dishes, some half-assed studying and catch up coursework. You sit at your desk, trying to focus, but your brain keeps drifting, back to last night, back to Ben’s voice in your ear, low and easy. You replay pieces of the conversation without meaning to.

And then-

Buzz.

Ben: Yo, what’s your address?

Your stomach jolts. You sit up straighter, rereading it twice, as if the words might suddenly change.

Ben: Don’t worry, not pulling up unannounced. Just need it for later.

You exhale, shaking your head as you type it out.

You: You got a time for me, or is this a surprise too?

Ben: 7

You glance at the clock. It’s barely noon.

You: Copy that. See you then.

Ben: Looking forward to it.

You lock your phone and let out a slow breath.

That gives you hours. Yet, somehow, after a good nap, those hours fly. By the time you start getting ready, the nerves settle in fast. Makeup first. Then hair. The whole process feels foreign, like muscle memory you haven’t used in forever.

And then, the dress. You slip it on carefully, smoothing it down, adjusting where needed. Then, the shoes.When you finally step back and look at yourself in the mirror, you freeze.

For the first time in so long, you actually got up for something. You spent years busying yourself and rejecting any chance of romance, nothing was really worth it - not worth stressing yourself over a sleezy "situationship", but now it sinks in. You actually put in the effort. And looking at yourself now, standing there, hair done, makeup set, dress hugging your figure. You almost don’t recognize yourself, it's almost weird.

Your stomach flutters.

Excitement. Nerves. Anticipation.

And then,

Ding-dong.

Your breath catches.

You hesitate for only a second before making your way to the door. A final deep breath, then you open it.

And there he is.

Ben stands there in a crisp shirt, nice pants, clean. But your eyes barely register the fit because in his hands,

Roses.

Bright, fresh, wrapped neatly.His gaze flicks over you, and something in his expression shifts. His lips part slightly, but for a moment, he doesn’t speak. Just takes you in.

"Wow." His voice is softer than usual. "You look… damn."

And witht that, it all feels worth it, all perfect. Your face heats. "Shut up."

"No, seriously." He grins, holding the flowers out. "These might be pretty, but you definitely win."

You bite your lip, taking them carefully. "Smooth."

“You clean up nice too y'know,” you tease, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how jittery you feel.

He smirks. “I should’ve brought my A-game.”

“This isn’t your A-game?” you quip, reaching for the flowers, setting them down to the side.

“Nah, this is like… my B+. I had to hold back. Didn’t want to peak too early.”

You shake your head, biting back a laugh. “So,” you start, turning back to him. “What’s the plan? We’re not exactly in a walk-in-and-blend-in situation.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, grinning. “Yeah, I figured unless you wanted to spend the night dodging cameras, we’d keep it private. So, you trust me?”

You arch a brow. “That depends. Are you kidnapping me?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a first date if I was,” he says, leading you outside. “Though, technically, our first date was you hitting my car.”

“That was not a date.”

“I met you. I got your number. We flirted.” He shrugs. “Sounds like a meet-cute to me.”

You roll your eyes but your smitten smile betrays you. “So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He winks. "You ready?"

You glance back at your apartment, nerves buzzing under your skin. Then, you look back at him, at the way he’s standing there, all easy and comfortable like this isn’t the first real date you two have ever had, nor the only date you have planned. He seems so confident, sincere and honest, like this was meant to happen. He holds out a hand for you, no pressure, just a simple invite. You take it, holding his large, warm hand in yours.

Fifteen minutes later, you do see. And it’s… kind of perfect.

Ben pulls up to a quiet, tucked-away spot by the water. The sky is painted in soft purples and blues, the last remnants of daylight fading. There’s a blanket in the trunk, takeout in a bag, and music playing softly from his phone.

“You planned a picnic?” You raise a brow, surprised.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. Figured you wouldn’t want to spend the whole night inside, but also didn’t want to spend it dodging people with iPhones.”

You glance up at him, then at the setup. “This is actually… really sweet.”

Ben smirks. “What, thought I’d just take you to a drive-thru and call it a night?”

“I mean, I did hit your car. Thought you might hold a grudge.”

“Oh, I do,” he says, opening the basket and setting up. “But I’m playing the long game.”

You both settle onto the blanket, the scent of warm food filling the air. The conversation is easy, mostly teasing at first. He asks about your classes, your friends, you ask about his training, and somehow you end up talking about the first time you met.

“I still don’t know how you managed to hit a parked car,” Ben says, shaking his head.

“It was a tight spot, let it goooo"

“Should've hit the Tesla, in my opinion.”

“Okay, well, maybe I was distracted.”

“By what? Your own bad driving?”

You swat at him, laughing. “By trying to keep the car calm, genius.”

Ben grins, leaning back on his elbows. “And yet, here we are.”

Here you are. Sitting next to him, by the water, the air warm and balmy, the food mostly gone, but the conversation still going. It feels like you both have been waiting for this. And now that it’s here, neither of you is in a rush to leave. You lean back on your hands, looking up at the sky. The stars are sharp tonight, scattered like someone spilled glitter across the darkness. It feels peaceful, so different from how you felt earlier, standing in front of your mirror, stomach twisting with nerves. Now, it’s easy, natural.

Ben watches you for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. “You know, I did want to text you more.”

His voice is softer now, a little more honest. You glance over, catching the way his brows pull together slightly, like he’s been thinking about this for a while. “Yeah?” you ask. “Why didn’t you?”

He exhales, looking up at the starry sky before answering. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to do the half-assed, ‘hey, wyd’ texts when I was exhausted or distracted. I didn’t want it to feel like… an obligation. But I don’t know. I think I got in my own head. Like, I’d think about it, but then I’d talk myself out of it. Tell myself you were busy, or I was busy, or-”

“That it was too late,” you finish for him. You nod slowly as you meet his eyes. “I get that, I think I did the same thing.”

“I also didn’t want to, like…” He pauses. “I don’t know. Screw this up before it even started.”

You tilt your head. “And what is ‘this,’ exactly?”

Ben meets your gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I was hoping we’d figure that out.”

Your heart does that annoying little flip again, but you play it cool. “Well, if it’s anything like your tennis game, I expect a lot of effort.”

Ben scoffs. “You wound me.”

You smirk, bumping your knee against his. “We’ll see.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. It’s strange, really, how something so simple, just reaching out, had felt so difficult before. But now, sitting here next to him, it seems ridiculous that either of you hesitated at all.

You tilt your head, studying him. “Did you ever think I wasn’t interested?”

Ben’s lips press together in thought. “No… I mean, I hoped that wasn’t the case. But I also knew you weren’t just gonna sit around waiting for me to finally get my shit together.”

You smile. “Well, you got it together eventually.”

“I did,” he says, nudging your foot lightly with his. “And I’d like some credit for that, thank you very much.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can say anything else, something streaks across the sky.

Your breath catches. “Oh my go-”

Ben follows your gaze, and for a second, neither of you says anything as you watch the shooting star burn its path across the night before disappearing into the dark.

Your heart is still racing when you turn back to him. “That was my first one.”

“Ever?”

You nod. “I always missed them before. I’d be looking the wrong way, or I’d blink, or someone would swear they saw one, but I never did.”

He grins. “Guess you got lucky.”

You glance back up, like you’re trying to will another one to appear, but the sky is still. When you look at Ben again, he’s already looking at you.

“I think I already was,” you say, quieter now.

His expression changes just slightly, his amusement giving way to something softer. The space between you doesn’t feel quite as wide anymore. His gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t do anything except sit there, watching you, waiting. And maybe it’s because of the way your stomach feels light, or the way the night feels infinite, or because you’ve both spent too much time holding back, but this time, you close the space, taking the leap, the step forward. Maybe, you did miss him, maybe Cupid finally struck - whatever excuse it was, nothing you could say or do would convey as much as you felt other than his lips on yours.

It’s not rushed, not some grand, sweeping moment. It’s slow, hesitant, like making sure this is real. Like neither of you want to mess it up. Ben exhales softly against your lips, his fingers twitching like he’s deciding what to do with them before settling lightly against your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek in the faintest touch, before holding your face. The kiss deepens just slightly, his nose bumping against yours, his other hand resting warm against your knee, holding you as though he was scared you might fade right then and there.

And then, just as naturally, you both pull back. Not far. Just enough to breathe.

You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his smile small, almost like he’s trying to hold it back.

“What?” you whisper.

Ben shakes his head, his gummy smile wide and bright. “I... I'm just so happy, so glad we're here.”

Something about the way he says it, so simple but so honest, makes your throat feel tight. You barely resist the urge to look away. Instead, you huff out a soft, shaky breath, trying to mask how much that made your chest ache in the best way. “Yeah. Me too.”

His smile is small but real, and for a second, neither of you move. The warmth of his fingers still lingers against your jaw, your wrist. Then, finally, you lean back, the moment settling between you like something fragile but steady.

You think you’re gonna like seeing more lucky shooting stars.

[saebyeokbliss]

JUST MEET ME AT THE APT.— K. SAE-BYEOK

CHAPTER NINE

synopsis: managing a rising rock band is already chaotic enough, but when you're stuck touring with four reckless musicians, things get even messier. between late-night facetime calls, teasing that feels a little too knowing, and a certain guitarist who might just be your biggest problem, keeping things professional is getting harder by the second. but hey, no one said the music industry was easy.

warnings: mutual pining, intense eye contact, teasing that borders on flirting (or maybe it is flirting), friends who refuse to mind their business, secondhand embarrassment, slow burn that burns, emotional whiplash, online scandals

playlist: spotify

It started with a tweet.

A blurry, low-quality video posted by some fan who had managed to sneak backstage. The caption was cryptic but damning:

"WTF did Jisoo do to make Kang Sae-Byeok this mad???"

And underneath it—

A video of Sae-Byeok pinning Jisoo against the wall.

The audio was grainy, muffled by the distance and the hum of post-show chaos, but some words were crystal-clear.

"I don’t want to see you near her or the girls ever again."

"You don’t get to come in here and make her feel like nothing."

The internet exploded.

At first, there was confusion. Speculation. Wild theories about why HOT DIVISION’s lead guitarist was this close to throwing hands with an influencer-turned-socialite like Jisoo.

Then came the sides.

Some people immediately took Sae-Byeok’s, praising her for standing up for whoever she was talking about. Others rushed to defend Jisoo, twisting the narrative into something uglier—something about how aggressive Sae-Byeok had looked, how scary her temper seemed, how it was unprofessional for an artist of her status to act like that.

And then, of course, the worst theory took hold.

That it was about you.

Screenshots of old photos resurfaced—pictures of you with the band, of you standing next to Sae-Byeok at award shows, of you in the background of HOT DIVISION’s biggest moments. Someone even found a picture from that night, showing you leaving the backstage area just moments before the video took place.

And suddenly, you weren’t just the band’s manager anymore.

You were the reason for the fight.

The narrative twisted: Sae-Byeok was in love with you. Jisoo had done something to you. You were caught in the middle of some messy, behind-the-scenes drama that no one was supposed to know about.

It spiraled fast.

By the next morning, articles were being written. Think pieces dissecting Sae-Byeok’s reputation, questioning her professionalism, debating whether or not HOT DIVISION’s label would make a statement.

And through it all—

You stayed quiet.

Because you knew exactly how this worked.

Scandals like this didn’t just pass. They grew until someone stopped them.

And that someone had to be you.

You found Jisoo before anyone else did.

She had been avoiding the internet, dodging calls, probably waiting for it all to blow over before she made her next move. But you weren’t going to give her that luxury.

You cornered her in the back of a café, where she had been sipping an overpriced latte like her name wasn’t being dragged online.

She barely had time to react before you sat down across from her, fixing her with a look that made it clear you weren’t here to play games.

"Fix it," you said, voice steady.

Jisoo blinked. "Excuse me?"

You leaned forward. "You fix it. You clear it up. You tell everyone exactly what the fuck happened before this gets worse."

She scoffed, setting her cup down. "I don’t owe anyone anything."

Your patience snapped. "Are you serious? You owe Sae-Byeok everything right now. Because you’re sitting here, drinking your stupid fucking latte, while she’s getting torn apart for something that wasn’t even her fault."

Jisoo frowned, finally looking uncomfortable. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen."

"But it did," you said sharply. "And I’m not letting you be the coward who lets her take the fall for it."

A beat of silence.

Jisoo looked away, jaw tightening. "I didn’t think she actually cared that much."

You exhaled through your nose, forcing yourself to stay calm. "That’s the problem. You never thought about what you were doing. You never thought about how it made me feel—how it made her feel."

She swallowed. "I just… I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong."

You shook your head. "Exactly."

Jisoo sighed, rubbing a hand down her face. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Tell the fucking truth," you said. "Make a statement. A video. A post. I don’t care. Just fix it."

She hesitated.

Then, finally, she pulled out her phone.

And for the first time since this entire mess started—

She actually did something right.

Jisoo’s video went up within the hour.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t some grand, emotional apology.

But it was enough.

She admitted that she had been careless, that she hadn’t realized how much she was excluding you, that she had walked into HOT DIVISION’s space without thinking about how it might have made you feel.

And most importantly—

She cleared Sae-Byeok’s name.

She explained that the argument wasn’t about anything romantic, that there was no secret drama or jealousy, that Sae-Byeok had only been angry because she had stood up for you.

The backlash didn’t disappear overnight. But it shifted.

Now, instead of attacking Sae-Byeok, people were applauding her.

And you— You finally let yourself breathe. But the damage had already been done.

And you weren’t sure if things could ever go back to the way they were before.

Dinner was quieter than usual.

Not because there was tension—no, after everything that had happened, the tension had finally cracked, leaving something raw and unspoken between all of you.

The girls had chosen a small restaurant, tucked away from prying eyes and the chaos of the internet, somewhere they could just be without worrying about cameras or fans or another scandal brewing.

And tonight, for the first time in a long time, they weren’t just HOT DIVISION.

They were just friends trying to make things right.

Ji-Yeong was the first to break the silence, setting her chopsticks down. "Alright, let’s just say it."

Se-Mi exhaled. "Yeah, we fucked up."

No-Eul nodded. "Big time."

Sae-Byeok, sitting across from you, was unusually quiet, arms crossed, her gaze flickering between you and the others.

Ji-Yeong leaned forward. "Look, we got caught up in our own shit, and we didn’t notice how much we were leaving you out. That’s on us. Completely on us."

Se-Mi sighed. "We should’ve realized sooner. We should’ve—" She hesitated, then met your eyes. "We should’ve been better friends to you."

You swallowed, feeling the weight of their words, the sincerity behind them.

And then No-Eul, ever direct, said, "We’re sorry."

Your chest tightened, but this time, it wasn’t from pain.

It was relief.

You let out a small, shaky breath, nodding. "Thank you."

Ji-Yeong gave you a hesitant smile. "Does this mean you forgive us?"

You huffed a quiet laugh. "I mean… yeah. But you guys owe me. Big time."

Se-Mi grinned. "Obviously. We’ll buy you so much coffee to make up for it."

No-Eul smirked. "Or we could just kick Jisoo’s ass next time we see her."

That made you laugh—really laugh, for the first time in days.

And just like that, things started to feel okay again.

After dinner, you stepped outside for some air.

The night was cool, the city lights flickering in the distance, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you actually felt lighter.

But you weren’t alone for long.

No-Eul appeared beside you, hands in her jacket pockets, her usual calm, unreadable expression on her face.

"You doing okay?" she asked, her voice softer than usual.

You hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Better than before."

No-Eul tilted her head, studying you in that way she always did—like she could see right through you. "You sure?"

You sighed, leaning against the railing. "I mean… I still feel kinda stupid for letting it get to me so much."

No-Eul frowned. "Why?"

You shrugged. "Because it’s not like they meant to hurt me. And I knew that. But it still—" You exhaled. "It still sucked."

No-Eul was quiet for a moment, then said, "You don’t have to justify feeling hurt."

You glanced at her, surprised.

She met your gaze, something unreadable in her eyes. "You deserved better from us. And you were right to be upset."

The way she said it—so steady, so certain—made warmth bloom in your chest.

You smiled, small but genuine. "Thanks, No-Eul."

She nodded, her gaze lingering on you.

And for a moment—just a moment—something shifted.

The space between you felt smaller.

The air heavier.

Her eyes flickered to your lips, just for a second, and you felt your breath catch.

Was she—?

Were you—?

Before anything could happen, a voice cut through the air.

"Time to go," Sae-Byeok’s voice rang out, firm but unreadable.

You both jolted slightly, stepping back as if the moment had never happened.

When you turned to look at her, Sae-Byeok’s face was blank, but her eyes—her eyes—were sharp, flickering between you and No-Eul with something you couldn’t quite place.

You cleared your throat. "Right. Yeah. Let’s go."

No-Eul didn’t say anything—just shoved her hands back into her pockets and followed after you.

And as you walked ahead, you could feel Sae-Byeok’s gaze lingering on you.

Like she had seen everything.

Like she was thinking about something.

But she didn’t say a word.

Not yet.

taglist: @everly-summers-solace @knfthxv @madebysae @knfthxv @katieschry1 @imlackingsleep @lyzem @stellssxo @wiltingconquest @peelover25@monroesturnns @laurenkens @yenyu1s @idontliketoread2137 @bitchybananaflower @lyuuw

[ingravinoveritas]

GT is really trying to make the Baftas about her on her Ig huh

(Grouping together for ease of responding.)

I've seen several mentions/had folks talking to me in DM about Georgia's Insta stories earlier today. I'll put some screenshots here so we can discuss:

I feel like this all starts with yesterday, so let's quickly recap: Last night, David appeared on the One Show. Georgia came along and watched the show backstage, and posted an Insta story of him on the TV screen, in color. She posted nothing related to David and Valentine's Day, despite having made a post about him every year for the last several years. Today, she posted about BAFTA preparations. Two photos of David, both again in black-and-white, and two photos in color, one of which featured her calling a bag of skincare products "my valentine."

The first thing that comes to mind is the songs that are used on some of these stories. For three out of four, the songs are upbeat and happy, which seems to contrast starkly with the almost somber tone of these pictures. It reminds me of the song "I Am A Rock" by Simon & Garfunkel, where the music is cheerful and up tempo, yet the lyrics are much darker and full of pain/sadness. So if you're only looking at what's on the surface, it causes you to miss what is going on underneath.

It would also be very easy to overlook that these stories are all related to an awards show--that David is hosting for a second time, no less. Because there isn't really anything celebratory about any of these. Just looking at the captions/tags, Georgia seems to be showing more enthusiasm for receiving free skincare products than for anything else. And in both pictures of David, he is doing something else/just trying to exist while she photographs him. In the picture in the car, he seems to be looking at the National Theatre, and despite sitting next to her, it feels like he is about a million miles away--that same feeling of preoccupation/tiredness that we saw last night.

And then there's the last piece of these stories, which is that the photos of David are once again in black-and-white. I've said this previously, but we are now long past the point where the B&W makes sense for legal reasons or anything having to do with the show. Let's also look at what's happened over the last few weeks: The fan taking a picture with David in the airport, the photo of David behind the bar in a pub in Glasgow this week, and then the full-on hair reveal last night, all in color. Contrast that with the video of David dancing to Sabrina Carpenter, the WOS acceptance speech, and now these photos, all in black and white, and all taken/filmed by Georgia.

Looking at everything together, I think David never cared about hiding his hair, while Georgia and Anna knew/know the fans have wanted to see dyed hair, and have viewed their Instagrams as a source for pictures. So holding the promise and possibility of seeing that is a guaranteed way to keep getting clicks and drive engagement, especially given how many fans took screenshots and got excited every time Georgia or Anna added a new story. What became a joke at the fandom's expense has now backfired, and I truly don't think there was ever going to be a "big reveal" or that either of them intended to post a picture of the dyed hair in color.

To be clear, there is no part of me that takes joy in any of this, and I do not wish for either David or Georgia to be unhappy or miserable. But I can't dismiss the almost painful gut reaction I had to these Insta stories--how "off" the vibes are, and how this all seems to be about much more than just hair dye.

What will happen at the BAFTAs tomorrow is still anyone's guess--Michael is not listed as a special guest or as a presenter (though he did present an award last year, as I recall), so who knows if he will even be there--but I am honestly hoping that things will be okay. For everyone's sake...

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Take Him

Pairing: Josh Allen x Popstar!Reader

Summary: After Josh Allen’s ex leaves a shady Instagram comment, someone claps back in her defense. In retaliation, the ex escalates things, calling Josh a “brain-dead CTE athlete.” The internet erupts, with fans and NFL players calling out the disrespect. Josh wants to ignore it. She doesn’t.

Inspired by: It's ok, I'm ok by Tate Mcrae

She wasn’t new to the internet. She knew how people talked. Knew how exes loved to reappear the second something good started happening. But this was next level.

It started as a casual Instagram post—a simple game day pic, her wearing a Bills hoodie, captioned “Go Bills ❤️”.

And then the comment from Josh’s ex. "Funny seeing her wear that hoodie. Just remember, I had him first. ❤️"

Dawson Knox: "First doesn’t mean best. We in the NFL, not preschool."

Less than an hour later, she fired back.

"Luckily, my boyfriend owns a team and doesn’t play for one. Don’t have to be with another brain-dead CTE athlete."

And just like that—the internet exploded.

THE INTERNET WENT WILD.

PopCultureBuzz (@PopCultureBuzz): "Did Josh Allen’s ex REALLY just go there??? This is INSANE."

NFL Memes (@NFL_Memes): "Calling an NFL player a ‘brain-dead CTE athlete’ is actually sick. Like… huh???"

Bills Mafia Fans: "Not even we talk about our guys like that. Josh won, we don’t claim her."

Her phone lit up with messages—everyone asking if she’d seen it. If she was going to respond.

She stared at her screen, letting out a slow exhale.

Slowly a smirk started forming. "Oh, okay. She wants to play."

Josh, sitting beside her on the couch, groaned. "Just ignore it, babe."

But she had other plans.

She was in the studio the next morning.

Sitting with her producer, humming a melody, flipping through her notes until she landed on a phrase she had scribbled down the second she saw the comment:

"It's ok, I'm ok…"

And just like that, the song came to life.

A song dripping in sarcasm, mocking the idea that his ex still had any power over their relationship.

It's okay, I'm okay, had him in the first place It's okay, I'm okay (okay)

By the time the track was finished, she knew exactly what she was going to do.

So, baby, don't get this twisted (hey) No, nothin' could make me miss it Take him, he's yours

She teased it on Instagram, just a short clip of her at the mic, captioned:

"You had him first? Cool. I have him last. 🖤 #ItsOkImOk"

PopCultureBuzz (@PopCultureBuzz): “Wait… this is DEFINITELY about Josh Allen’s ex???”

NFL Memes (@NFL_Memes): “‘Take him, he’s yours’—OH SHE WENT FOR THE THROAT.”

Bills Mafia Fans: “This is our new anthem. No notes.”

He was mid-film session when his phone started blowing up.

Knox nudged him, holding up Twitter, "Bro… what did your girl just drop??"

Josh sighed, already knowing.

He opened his messages—yep, there it was. A text from her.

“Don’t be mad 😘”

Josh rubbed his temples, shaking his head. When he heard her voice dripping in sarcasm, flipping the whole ‘I had him first’ thing back on the ex?

He grinned. Oh yeah. She was absolutely unhinged. And he loved it.

She was at home, scrolling through the chaos, when Josh walked in, shaking his head.

"Really?" He held up his phone, playing her song back to her.

She grinned. "Really."

Josh sighed, setting his phone down before grabbing her waist and pulling her close.

"You are… completely unhinged."

She smirked, looping her arms around his neck. "You love it."

Josh chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I do."

And just like that, the song was out and his ex was claiming she got "hacked."

[aceingonthecake]

The Ineffable Sims

"If they don't give you the happy ending you wanted, do it yourself" (thanks @grimmbunny24 for this caption)

Hi! Let me introduce you to the family Crowley-Fell:

Anthony Crowley-Fell

he/him, they/them, she/her

Aziraphale Crowley-Fell

he/him, they/them, she/her

Bentley Crowley-Fell

they/them

Nebula Crowley-Fell

she/her

Bentley is still a teenager, but they'll turn into a young adult very soon. For now, they only have 2 traits: loyal, which means they value all their relationships and consider trust essential; and music lover, which means they become happy when listening to music or playing an instrument. Their aspiration is Collector, because I thought it fit them well.

Nebula is a toddler, but she'll soon turn into a child. She was an intense baby (big emotions and easily entertained), while now she's an angelic toddler (very easygoing and not afraid of strangers).

Here is the post with Crowley and Aziraphale's traits. The only thing that changed is their aspiration, because they fulfilled the first one I gave them: now it's Domestic, which means they take care of the growth of their family.

From now on, you'll find all my posts about them (even the previous ones) with the tags: #the ineffable sims #ineffable sims

I'll keep sharing random fun facts and I'll show you more details about their appearances and personalities (I wonder if you've already noticed something about Crowley 👀) , but you're more than welcome to send me asks if you're curious about anything else!

Lastly, I know the pictures are still not very good, but for now I can only take them with my phone because my computer is actively working against me. Forgive me😅

Aaand that's all. Thank you for the interest you guys showed! ♥️

[mattpearson]

@pscentral​ event 26: minimalism

SILICON VALLEY (2014 - 2019) TOP 10 RATED EPISODES ON IMDB insp (1, 2)

[chiropteracupola]

And we travelled together o'er mountain and valley / And she by my side through many's the fight...

[applejongho]

almost three weeks into the DUI 🛵 situation and this is me more speaking to the void than anything but genuinely HOW are the majority of fans (maybe just the loud ones??) in undying support of him and saying "he did nothing wrong"? at first I was so fascinated by this whole situation and was like "haha they're delusional" but now it's just........ sad. there's always going to be fans in every fanbase that will bend over backwards to defend anything their fav does (and he very likely not face punishment/leave the group 😋🤪). but the fact that I cannot find a single thing criticizing him even slightly when I search just his name is diabolical. genuinely what has happened to that fandom lmao

[sysig]

Damned Masterpost

Original run

ZEX wasn’t there for that, Dex!

Getting started

Kissing Strangers 💋

Captain Dating Sim

If I become lost...

It started with a whisper

Perfect comedy routine

Flowers for you!

ZEX loves wild horse!

Dexter’s first visit

Pivotal bright spot

Sunshine Captain ☀️

But ZEX loves humans!

Uniform ♥

Hard learning curve

Big Guy Teisel

VUXisms

ZEX’s hair <3

Haunted by Kayako

Zelnick has two hands

Zelnick’s gone :(

ZEX’s MU (blood)

Them (blood)

Leaving weird impressions

Last man standing

Wake up somewhere better (blood)

Despite everything, he’s still ZEX

New Daay

DAX profile

DAX Expressions

VUX duo Expressions

Lover’s tiff Expressions

Action heroes Expressions (blood)

Roughed up VUX Expressions (blood)

Too busy flirting

The Little VUXmaid ---

What if DAX was there

DAX’s Special Counseling

Homesick

After ZEX’s MU

Hope we die (blood)

Max’s visit

Karaoke Night

The girlies are fightinnggg

Different sensibilities

ZEX’s hair, again

Protect him, please

VUXémon

The three of them

Wander I mean Dr. Doran

More Dr. Doran

“Wake up” configurations

More VUXémon ft. Larry and Kabu

Dismissed ---

First re-meeting ♥

Chill, Sub-Commander

Each other’s VUX

Pyramid Head fight (blood)

Dr. Vargas

VUX silliness

Therapy went great

Nightly squabbles

You must snuggle

Obeying commands

Locked In

Damned, but make it Osmosis Jones

Wants to fight so bad

Some familiar faces

Drix Uniform

Main three’s profiles

Other

Stanley profile speculations

Max wants out

Crystal Gem VUX

All those missing eyes

2024 Sketchdump

[hisfavegirl]

Your Jealous Reaction To They Gym Photo On Instagram.

Pairing : Aegon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, Daemon Targaryen, And Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Thanks To @zaldritzosrose For Letting Me Use Your Beautiful Dividers.

Aegon.

Your eyes narrowed as you scrolled through your feed, only to see Aegon’s latest post—a gym mirror selfie, shirtless, glistening with sweat, veins prominent, and that damn cocky smirk on his face.

But what really set you off were the comments.

“Oh my god, Aegon, just one chance, please.”

“I’d let him ruin my life.”

“Why is he getting hotter? This is unfair.”

“Imagine him pinning you down after a workout.”

Your grip tightened on your phone. Your jaw clenched. He had the audacity to post this and not even tell you?!

You stormed into the living room where Aegon was casually lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, clearly enjoying the attention.

“So, you’re a damn fitness influencer now?” you snapped, crossing your arms.

Aegon grinned, clearly loving your reaction.

“Jealous, baby?” He stretched out lazily, flexing on purpose, his toned stomach peeking out. “Didn’t think you cared what other people said.”

You huffed, tossing your phone onto the couch beside him.

“I don’t care about them. I care about you acting like some thirst trap model while I have to deal with all these girls throwing themselves at you in the comments.”

Aegon chuckled, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap before you could protest.

“Aww, is my girl mad that other people want me?” He tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement.

You glared at him, but your hands instinctively went to his shoulders, fingers digging in slightly.

“No,” you lied. “But maybe I should post something, too. A little revenge, you know?”

His grip on your waist tightened instantly.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, voice dropping.

You smirked, running your fingers along his collarbone.

“Why not? You get to show off, but I can’t?”

Aegon’s jaw ticked, his smirk faltering as he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Because,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours, “you’re mine. And I don’t want anyone else even imagining what’s only for me.”

Your stomach flipped, but you refused to let him win this easily.

“Then maybe you should start remembering that before you post gym thirst traps, hmm?”

Aegon laughed, low and deep, before flipping you onto the couch, pinning you beneath him.

“Noted, baby.” His eyes darkened as he leaned in. “Now, let’s see if I can make you forget all about those comments.”

And just like that, you lost the argument entirely.

Your Revenge To His Fan Girl? Absolutely Devastating.

The internet broke the moment Aegon’s post went live.

There it was—you, pressed against his bare chest, tangled up in his sheets, kissing him while he smirked against your lips. The photo was intimate, possessive, and undeniable proof that he was yours.

And the caption?

“Cry harder, ladies. She wins. Always.”

The fan girls lost their minds.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

“NOOOOO THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING.”

“SHE WON. WE LOST. I’M DELETING MY ACCOUNT.”

“I’m happy for you, but I’m also throwing up.”

“This should have been ME.”

“BLOCKED, REPORTED, I’M LEAVING THIS FANDOM.”

“Aegon, you’re such a WHIPPED MAN.”

Some were angry, some were devastated, and some were coping through pure delusion.

“They probably broke up already. He’ll be single soon, just wait.”

“This is just PR damage control, don’t panic.”

“I just know she forced him to post this.”

Meanwhile, Aegon? Loving every second of it.

He leaned back against the headboard, scrolling through the comments with a shit-eating grin, watching the chaos unfold.

“Damn, baby, you really made them spiral, huh?” He chuckled, tossing his phone onto the nightstand before pulling you back onto his lap.

You smirked, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“Good. Let them suffer.”

Because in the end, you won—and they knew it.

Aemond.

The second Aemond’s gym photo hit Instagram, you knew it was over.

Shirtless. Sweat dripping down his abs. Veins in his arms popping. That signature cold, unreadable stare that somehow made him look dangerous and sexy at the same time.

And the comments section? A mess.

“Aemond, PLEASE just give me a chance.”

“THIS is why I have trust issues.”

“The things I would do to him… I can’t even say out loud.”

“SIR, this is a public platform.”

“My knees just gave out.”

“Does your girlfriend even appreciate you the way we do??”

Oh, that last one? That one sent you into full-on jealousy mode.

You glared at your phone, arms crossed, while Aemond casually walked into the room, towel around his neck, smirking like he already knew.

“What’s got you pouting like that?” His tone was smug, teasing.

You snapped your head up.

“Oh, I don’t know, Aemond. Maybe the entire internet drooling over you?”

He chuckled, stepping closer.

“You jealous?”

You huffed, refusing to meet his gaze.

“I should post something to remind them you’re taken.”

That made his smirk grow. Oh, he loved this.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, brushing his lips against your ear, his hands sliding around your waist. “But if you really want to remind them… I can give you something better to post.”

Oh, he was insufferable. But he was yours.

And after tonight? The internet would know it, too.

The second you posted the photo, the internet went feral.

Aemond, his head resting against your bare chest, his silver hair spilling over your skin like silk. Your face? A picture of pure bliss, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in pleasure. His arm was wrapped around your waist, possessive, claiming.

And the caption?

“Mine. Stay mad.”

Chaos. Absolute chaos.

The comment section? A war zone.

“GIRL, YOU DID NOT JUST—”

“I’m actually sick. Physically sick.”

“This is so personal, and I was not prepared.”

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO US??”

“Not even blurring his face??? YOU WANT US TO SUFFER??”

“I can’t believe I just witnessed history. She WINS.”

“Delete this before I collapse.”

“God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers, and I AM NOT ONE OF THEM.”

“She didn’t just take Aemond… she made sure we’d never recover.”

Twitter was in shambles.

Group chats exploded.

Fan pages crumbled.

Some tried to cope.

“At least he looks happy. I guess.”

“No, because what does she have that we don’t?”

Others? Not so much.

“BLOCKED. MUTED. REPORTED. I CAN’T.”

“AEMOND TARGARYEN YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS.”

And Aemond? He knew exactly what you were doing.

“Having fun, love?” His voice was amused as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you scroll through the chaos you caused.

You smirked, tilting your phone toward him.

“They’re losing their minds.”

Aemond just chuckled, walking over to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your lips.

“Good.”

Because at the end of the day? You won.

Jacaerys.

The moment you saw Jace’s new gym photo, your eyes narrowed.

He was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin, arms flexed just enough to make it obvious. His hair was slightly damp, and that stupid, cocky smirk was plastered across his face.

And the caption?

“Morning workout. Who’s joining?”

The comments were insufferable.

“ME. PICK ME. CHOOSE ME.”

“I’ll literally pass away.”

“Sir, my heart rate just hit 200.”

“THIS IS SO DISRESPECTFUL TO US SINGLE WOMEN.”

“What are we supposed to do with this information??”

“You should be in jail, actually.”

Your jaw clenched. Oh, he thinks he’s funny.

Grabbing your phone, you stormed into the bedroom where Jace was casually lying on the bed, scrolling through his own comments with a smug grin.

“Enjoying yourself?” You asked, voice deceptively sweet.

He glanced up at you, completely unbothered.

“Immensely.”

Oh, he was so dead.

“Yeah? You like all these thirsty girls drooling over you?”

Jace chuckled, setting his phone down. “Why? You jealous?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You think it’s cute, don’t you?”

He had the audacity to smirk.

“I think it’s hilarious.”

The moment Jace hit post, the internet imploded.

The photo was blatantly intimate—you were perched on his lap, lips pressed to his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, while your other hand rested on his cock. Jace’s eyes were half-lidded, his smirk just barely visible, and his hand? Firmly gripping your waist.

And the caption?

“She wins. Cry about it.”

The comment section? Pure chaos.

“HELLO????? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS???”

“I DID NOT SURVIVE ALL HIS GYM PHOTOS JUST TO BE ATTACKED LIKE THIS.”

“JACE PLEASE DELETE THIS I’M BEGGING.”

“You’re telling me I woke up for THIS???”

“No bc I actually feel physically ill rn.”

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!”

“This is a HATE CRIME.”

“I am NOT okay. Like genuinely. I need a moment.”

“You know what? Blocked. Reported. Arrested.”

“THIS WAS SO UNNECESSARY???”

“Jace, be so fr right now.”

“Bro, I trusted you.”

“I can’t look at you the same way anymore.”

“You’ve RUINED my life, actually.”

Meanwhile, Jace was grinning like an absolute menace.

“Damn, baby. They’re losing their minds.”

You smirked, leaning into him.

“Good. Maybe now they’ll stop acting like they have a chance.”

Jace just chuckled, kissing you deeply, completely unfazed by the chaos.

Daemon.

You were scrolling mindlessly when his post popped up—Daemon, shirtless, drenched in sweat, veins prominent, muscles flexed just enough to make a statement. The gym lighting made him look almost unreal, and to make it worse, he had the audacity to smirk at the camera like he knew exactly what he was doing.

And the caption?

“Train like a king, rule like a god.”

The comments sent you into an instant rage.

“Sir, I am on my knees.”

“I am NOT okay. I need him carnally.”

“Daemon, I’d let you ruin my life and thank you for it.”

“HOW IS HE EVEN REAL?!”

“I suddenly feel so single it hurts.”

“I will never recover from this.”

“I want him so bad it’s SICK.”

You stared at your phone, jaw clenched, eyes burning.

“So this is what we’re doing now?”

You stormed into the living room, where Daemon was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his notifications, smirking at the thirst comments like the cocky bastard he was.

“Enjoying yourself?” you snapped, crossing your arms.

Daemon barely looked up, clearly amused.

“What, jealous?” he teased.

You snatched the phone from his hand and straddled his lap, forcing him to look at you instead.

“Delete it.”

Daemon chuckled, his hands sliding up your thighs.

“Not a chance, sweet girl. But…” He tilted his head, eyes dark with amusement. “You’re welcome to distract me.”

You huffed, already planning your revenge.

Fine. If he wanted to play this game— you’d make sure to win.

The second you hit post, chaos erupted in the comment section.

The internet broke. The photo was filthy—Daemon’s head buried between your thighs, his silver hair tangled in your fingers as you arched into him. His grip on your hips was possessive, and even though his face was mostly hidden, the implication was clear.

And the caption? Oh, you made sure to pour salt on the wound.

“Where he belongs.”

The girls lost their minds.

“WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS PAIN?!”

“I can’t even be mad… she WON.”

“DELETE THIS RIGHT NOW I CAN’T BREATHE.”

“I need a moment. A long one.”

“I HOPE YOU CHOKE.”

“She really said ‘I fear no bitch’ and proved it.”

“Daemon Targaryen, get out of there and face me like a man.”

“HOLD ON. WHERE is the UNSEE button??”

“My delusions are dead. Officially.”

Daemon, lounging beside you, smirked as he read the comments.

“You enjoy watching them suffer, don’t you?” he mused, amusement thick in his tone.

You grinned, satisfaction blooming in your chest.

“Just making sure they know.”

Daemon’s eyes darkened, fingers sliding up your thigh.

“Oh, they know.”

Rhaenyra.

You scowled at your phone, staring at Rhaenyra’s latest gym post. She was wearing a tight workout set, her toned abs on full display as she leaned against the weight rack, smirking at the camera. She looked good—annoyingly good.

But what really got under your skin? The comments.

“MOTHER IS MOTHERING.”

“She’s not even TRYING and she’s winning??”

“How does she look this good after a workout? UNFAIR.”

“Step on me.”

“Nah, she’s actually perfect.”

“Rhaenyra supremacy.”

Your jaw clenched. Why were they thirsting over her like this? You knew she was beautiful, obviously, but did they have to act like she was some goddess?

You huffed, locking your phone and tossing it onto the couch. Annoyance simmered in your chest, and you didn’t even notice Rhaenyra watching you from across the room—until she spoke.

“Jealous?” she teased, arching a brow.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

“Of course not.”

Rhaenyra just smirked, walking over and tilting your chin up with her fingers.

“You know you’re still my favorite, right?” she murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

You tried to stay mad, but with the way she was looking at you? Impossible.

The moment you posted the photo, the internet exploded.

Rhaenyra’s Instagram was already a war zone of thirsty comments, but this? This was a massacre.

The picture was brutal—your hand tangled in her silver hair, her fingers gripping your jaw possessively as you both kissed, deep and hungry. The angle was perfect, showcasing how breathless and consumed you both looked, like you couldn’t get enough of each other.

And the caption? Oh, it was deadly.

“If you wanted her so bad, you should’ve tried harder.”

The fan girls lost their minds.

“NO NO NO THIS ISN’T HAPPENING”

“TELL ME THIS IS PHOTOSHOP I CAN’T BREATHE”

“YOU STOLE HER FROM US HOW COULD YOU”

“This is actually a crime.”

“She looks so happy but at what cost??? OUR SANITY???”

“I have never known peace, and I never will.”

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra? She was thriving.

She saw the meltdown in the comments and just laughed, turning her phone toward you.

“You really broke them,” she smirked.

You just grinned, leaning in to kiss her again.

“Good.”

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

[fandom-blackhole]

My friends, idk how, but im gonna figure out a way to share my final presentation with you guys for a class after I finish it. Because I'll be damned if I'm gonna be this passionate about this thing, do all the research, make a ppt AND cardboard tri-fold, and present this at a "Research Symposium" for 2 hours to whoever stops at my booth during finals week to not share with the people I like most 😤

Basically for the project we have to take a person or event and give background on them before analyzing them through a Social Psychology lense (bc the class is social psychology lol). AND GODS DO I LOVE SHIT LIKE THISSSSS. I will not be sharing what event I chose for two reason: 1) I want ya'll to read and learn about it through my post when I post it 😌 and 2) It's a REALLY obscure event from what I've gathered (like I barely have 5 sources for references and one's ONLY in german) and I doubt many would know what I was talking about.

[purplelea]

One thing that I go crazy over is that Joshua didn't actually lie. He never said he wasn't the Composer. He never said he didn't kill Neku. Every single thing he said has always been partially true or at least not false, or impossible to verify. But he has never ever actually lied in any way. Prove me wrong.

[crossbackpoke-check]