#((I thought of a way to answer this that could lead to the next stage of our threads!))

[missbellie]

HeartBurn, No-eul

After a painful betrayal, lead singer Min-Young tries to maintain her composure while working alongside No-eul, the guitarist who broke her heart. Set backstage after a performance, the imagine explores the quiet, lingering ache of unresolved love, emotional dishonesty, and the weight of what’s left unsaid — all told through silences, glances, and the burn that never quite fades. Angst with guitarrist! no-eul × vocalist×reader!

You’re standing near the back exit of the venue.

Your voice is still raw from the last chorus, but you don’t feel the usual rush — the kind that makes you laugh breathlessly and lean on No-eul while you both buzz with post-show adrenaline. No. Tonight, you’re quiet. Almost cold.

She hasn't come out yet.

You light a cigarette even though you don’t really smoke, just to have something to do with your hands. The wind presses your hair to your cheek. You close your eyes.

You can still feel the way she looked at you on stage — the way her guitar solos curved around your verses like old times, like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t ripped a hole through your chest just two months ago.

You always thought No-eul was fire. Loud on stage, quiet off it. A mess of discipline and recklessness in a body that didn’t know how to stay still. You liked how she only really looked alive when performing — and how, somehow, you were the only person she looked at like a song when there were no instruments between you.

And for a while, that was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Until she started disappearing after rehearsals. Coming back with eyes that didn’t match her excuses. Until you saw a message flash on her phone while she was in the shower. A name. A location. A second betrayal from someone who kissed you like religion but treated you like a routine.

She never lied well. You never asked much. You just... folded.

She came clean. Said it “didn’t mean anything.” But when you asked if she loved you, she didn’t answer.

That’s when it ended. Quiet. Like unplugging an amp mid-song.

No-eul finally walks out the door, guitar case slung across her back, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the chain you gave her. She hasn’t taken it off.

You don’t look at her.

She pauses near you. Doesn’t speak at first.

Then softly:

“Good set.”

You take a drag. “Don’t.”

She shifts her weight. “I just thought—”

“You didn’t think, No-eul.” You finally meet her gaze. “That was the problem.”

There’s a beat of silence. The kind that vibrates deep between ribs.

You laugh once — low, bitter. “You know what hurts? I knew you’d let me down. From the start. I just hoped I was wrong.”

She flinches like you slapped her.

“Why does my heart still burn when I see your face?” you whisper, more to yourself than to her.

She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Her fingers twitch at her sides.

You hold up the cigarette between your lips, voice dry. “You don’t get to look at me like that. Like you’re mourning something you buried yourself.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t stop either.”

She looks away. Her jaw clenches. And for a second you see it — the regret, the weight, the knowledge that she’s the villain in her own love story.

“I still love you,” she says.

It’s the worst thing she could say. Because it makes everything ache again.

You take one last drag and toss the cigarette. Step past her. But before you go, you lean in close enough that your breath brushes her jaw.

“That makes it worse.”

You can’t sleep. You lie in your bed with your throat tight and the smell of smoke in your hair. Her guitar solo keeps playing in your head.

You have made your decision, put me in my place.

She did.

And yet here you are — still hoping the next chorus won’t hurt.

But you know better.

Because when someone you love lies, it doesn’t stop the love.

It just burns longer.

And slower.

Like smoke that stays in your clothes long after you’ve left the fire.

i feel good appearing like this out of nowhere, i don't know

[spoocys-glade-of-dreams]

@limblcss

After everything that had happened, Mona finally settled down. She was sitting with her boyfriend in the waiting room of the hosptial. They were waiting for Floyd to come update them on the surgeries and on Theo's condition. She was silent, and just began to daydream.

She would think back to when Globox restored her memories. The pain she felt. Her head felt like it was going to explode. When it finally ended and the visor was removed from her head, she remembered seeing the face of her boyfriend. Her Ray of hope after all the torture Dark Rayman had put her through. She thought she was never going to remember that smiling face. The face of a Rayman who wasn't going to force her to forget her old life so she could fit perfectly in another's.

That hug the two exchanged at that moment felt so wonderful. She wished it never ended so badly. She would lean over to her boyfriend seated beside her and would pull him in for a hug. She nuzzled her chin into his shoulder as she got comfortable in that hug. She would hold it like that until Floyd finally arrived.

[szatears]

Could you do a sinners story. That’s a Stack x Mary x Black!reader set now. Where they slowly fall in love with reader who’s baddie and include some jealousy.

three's trouble, stack & mary.

summary: stack had always had a thing for you. you never thought much of it because he was a huge flirt like that and also because of the other girl he was always entertaining. but maybe, just maybe, you could have a bit of fun with that?

pairings: stack x blackfem!reader, stack x mary, mary x blackfem!reader.

warnings: slight smut (one day i'll go the whole way), some descriptions of reader, mary being jealous of reader.

notes: this one is kinda long! i'm a smoke girly through and through but this request may have bumped stack up my ratings a little 😛 also by 'set now' i'm assuming you mean in today's era but if that's not what you meant then i wholeheartedly apologise 😭

It started off as a joke. When Smoke and Stack opened up their juke joint, you had originally gone there with a couple of your girls, until it became a routine place for you guys to meet up and debrief, letting loose as the night's events would take you away.

It wasn't until the fourth time you went there that you met Mary. You were on the dance floor with your girls when she almost bumped into you, turning around with an apologetic face. She hovered over her words as she spoke to you, taking in your face and that gorgeous two piece you had on you.

Something clicked in her head in that moment, it was all fuzzy, not quite connected, but she just knew she'd be seeing more of you.

And that she did.

It became a weekly thing, going to the joint. The first time you met Stack was no accident; it seems he had actually sought you out from the crowd. He wanted to know what it was about this girl that Mary kept going on about.

Mary wasn't infatuated to say, she was more... interested. There was something about you that drew her in, the way you laughed at her jokes, how effortlessly your body moved to the rhythm of the music as you both danced, the intense eye contact... It really drew her in.

Stack wasn't really what you expected. Perhaps you just thought he'd be like his brother, Smoke. Cold, tough, not interested in anything that doesn't benefit him in a way, or at least that's what you gathered from all that you heard.

But he wasn't like Smoke, at least not entirely. Stack was clearly the more chilled of the two, the one open to having a bit of fun.

The joke itself was based on how much of a liking Mary and Stack took to you. You'd be told that they didn't always tolerate people outside of their immediate circle, that there was just something special about you.

When Stack began to call you his girl, or when Mary started to affectionately show you off to anyone who would listen, you started to think there was more to your relationship with them than you suspected.

That being said, you weren't surprised when Stack greeted you with an arm thrown over your shoulders, pulling you into him every time he saw you since the say you met.

"There's my favourite girl," he'd drawl out with a huge smile, an icy pink drink in his hand waiting for you.

"Hey, Stack," you'd kiss his cheek, taking the drink from him and allowing him to take your hand in his, leading you to the section of the joint him and Smoke fixed up nice and neat for them and their special guests.

You felt the eyes on you as you walked behind him, albeit he was moving at a fast pace through bodies that parted so he could pass. He was respected like that.

"Where's Mary?" You asked when he sat you down right next to him, one of your legs resting over his lap as his arm lay low around your waist, holding you to him.

You had to lean up close to his ear to ask over the loud blues that was being played on the stage, presumably Sammie. Your new 613 styled hair tickled his face a little when he leaned closer to you to answer.

"She's around, I ain't too sure where," he waved you off, almost like it irritated him to answer. You came to the conclusion that Stack and Mary had a complicated relationship, it was pretty obvious to anyone who watched them for more than a moment.

At times you got caught up in the middle of their arguments or tiffs, where Mary would complain to you about Stack being Stack, and Stack would tell you to tell her to "ease off a lil'". It was always something with those two.

You stayed in his company like that for most of the night, mainly because Stack wouldn't exactly let you get up. You were a catch, he knew that and you did too.

He saw the eyes you'd get from every guy here and then, but none of them would make a move whilst you were with him. They'd wait until after, but even then, the fear of messing with Stack's girl would keep them away.

"Damn, Stack, save some girls for the rest of us," Melo laughed as he dapped him up. Melo was one of the guys that Smoke and Stack tolerated, for more reasons than just the fact that he was a funny guy. You thought it had something to do with the 'business' that they handled, and you were probably right.

Stack smirked, his hand subtly rubbing your ass over the skirt you wore. "Man, gone on," he gestured to Melo.

"Nah, real shit though, where Mary at?"

"I'on know, does it look like I got her on a leash? She's wherever she's at." He snapped. You frowned at that, coming to the conclusion that they had definitely gotten into it before you arrived.

Melo held his hands up in surrender, walking away to the bar. It was like he could feel you judging him, because when Stack looked down at you after reaching into his pocked for a prerolled blunt, he shook his head. "Don't you start on me too, ma" he mumbled, fumbling in his pockets for a lighter.

"Hm," was all you said. "I'm gonna go look for her."

He didn't stop you, try to make you stay. He let you go after her.

Mary was on the other side of the joint, laughing it up with some girls you'd never seen before. She spotted you just as you spotted her, her face brightening up at the sight of yours.

"Hey, there is she is right now! Look girls, this is the fine lil' lady I was talking to y'all about earlier," she held your hand as she brought you to the group. You smiled at them all, trying to fight away any awkwardness.

"You look good," Mary brought her arms to rest around your neck, intertwining them together. Yours rested loosely around her waist, the two of you almost flush together.

"Thanks, doll," you made a kissy face at her, not expecting her to actually kiss your lips. It was a short kiss, and she pulled away with a huge smile. Poor girl was gone. "What's up with you and Stack though? Y'all fighting again?"

Mary rolled her eyes, removing a hand from around your neck to pull her dress down a little. You recognised the dress, it was one you helped her pick out on the many shopping trips the two of you took together with Stack's money. It was a deep red, came up to her mid thighs and exposed her back at the behind.

"That man ain't shit," she groaned. "Talking 'bout I get on his nerves and don't know how to leave him alone. Maybe don't send mixed signals then?!"

You nodded as she ranted, her friends now dispersing across the joint to leave you two alone. This was nothing you haven't heard before, Mary and Stack always got into it about something along the same lines as their last argument.

"Maybe I should just have you be my new thing instead of him," Mary frowned, leaning her body on yours. You smiled at her words.

"I wouldn't mind that."

*

A couple days later, you assumed they'd be on good terms again but it seemed not. You were hanging around in your apartment when you heard the door open, confusing taking over your face because no one else had a key. Before you even had a chance to grab something incase you needed to defend yourself, you heard a voice call out for you.

"Where you at, baby?" Stack asked, taking his shoes off by the door.

"Elias, I told you to stop picking my damn doors," you kissed your teeth, exhaling a much needed sigh of relief after that small scare.

"Then start answering your phone," he said like it was the most obvious response. He kissed your lips briefly, mumbling a "hey" before he made his way to your kitchen, coming back to you with a bottle of water.

"What brings you here?" you asked, settling down on the sofa.

He didn't reply straight away, instead he took the time to admire you as he drank. You weren't wearing anything too special, a small, white spaghetti strapped tank top with light grey joggers that belonged to a lounge set. You looked good. You always did. Hell, you could be wearing the most basic thing ever and Stack would find you drop dead gorgeous.

A small smirk made its way to his face as his thoughts trailed off to other things, making you tilt your head at him.

"Hello?" you nudged him.

"Sorry, darling," he finally snapped out of his trance. "You got me a lil' distracted there."

You smiled, like you always did when he flirted with you. He put the cap back on his bottle, placing it down on the coffee table in front of him before his arms reached out for you, pulling you into him.

You let him guide you over his laps, straddling him with your palms resting flat against his chest. Stack's hands rubbed over your ass as he leaned further into the sofa, his eyes staring right into yours.

"You didn't answer my question," you looked back at him.

"I can't pay you a visit no more? Damn," he sighed, squeezing at your hip.

"I didn't say all that," you rolled your eyes. "You and Mary keep getting into it and then dragging me in your mess."

The day before, Mary had come over to yours. Originally she planned to convince you to come out with her, but you had had enough of partying for a couple of days. So she stayed in with you.

What started off as you two watching movies and making dinner turned into her hands caressing gently over your body, your lips on hers and a whole lotta noise.

"That ain't nothing new," He said.

"Yeah? Maybe that's a sign, I don't know..."

"A sign for what?"

"A sign that—" you were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing, a puzzled expression on your face as you removed yourself from Stack's lap to answer it. There was nothing that annoyed you more than unexpected guests, but two? This was a new record now.

You opened the door, eyes widening at the sight of Mary.

"Hey, girl," she smiled at you. She looked down behind you for a brief moment, her eyes landing on Stack's shoes. She look back at you, eyes narrowed before she moved past you and inside.

"Yeah, come right in. No, I'm not too busy at the moment," you mumbled to yourself. It wasn't long before you were hearing raised voices and all sorts of cuss words being thrown.

"Really?! So you can be here, around her, but you can't be bothered to come see me?"

"Mary, calm the fuck down and watch who you talking to," Stack ran a hand down his face, his mood completely soured as he reached for a blunt in his pocket.

"No! Because you're such a fucking liar! I swear to God," she laughed bitterly, turning to face you now. "And when were you gonna tell me about this. Huh? After I slept with you again?"

Stack's brows piqued up at that, turning to you too.

"Mary, you knew Stack's been coming up here, I literally told you that—"

"What, y'all got something goin' on too?" She scoffed. It was insane to her how she was the one who introduced you two yet felt completely left out of the loop.

"I mean, shit, if you want," Stack smirked, clearly unfazed by the situation in front of him.

"Shut the hell up," you and Mary both said.

Sighing, you walked towards her. You could see the pout on her face, the crease in her brow that only appeared when she frowned. "You like him more than me or somethin'?" She asked you.

"No. I like you both. I also think you're both irritating as fuck," you spoke honestly, tucking a standing of your hair behind your ear that had fallen out of the ponytail you put it in before they both came.

Stack blew smoke out of his mouth from where he sat, watching you both. You wrapped your arms around Mary's waist, inching your face closer to hers. Her eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes, waiting for you to make the first move.

You broke your gaze away from her face to look at Stack, his eyes focused on you and what you would do next. A smile graced your lips, your attention back on Mary. You leaned in, feeling the softness of her lips welcome yours.

"Damn," Stack mumbled.

Mary kissed you back, a small moan escaping her lips as she did. When you parted your lips, her tongue didn't waste any time, exploring your mouth as you moaned shamelessly.

You broke away from the kiss, leaning your head on Mary's shoulder as you looked at Stack. "There are more ways to solve this lil' issue, you know."

Stack smiled, putting his blunt in the ashtray. You pulled away from Mary, pushing her gently towards Stack, who took her into his arms. He kissed her, slow and gentle.

"You know I love you," he mumbled against her lips.

"Yeah. I love you too," Mary sighed, glad she was finally being shown some attention by him.

They turned to look at you, Mary patting the spot on the other side of Stack. "And we love you too. Guess we'll just have to learn to share," she smirked.

You sat down, and it wasn't long before Stack's lips were on yours, his hand around your throat, pulling you closer. Mary watched on, her lip tucked in between her teeth. Why didn't she ever think of this before.

She kissed down Stack's neck, nipping and biting, letting up when you started to kiss her. Her hands grabbed at your top, breaking away from the messy kiss to pull it off of you. Stack took his top off too, his toned body on display. You almost drooled, you couldn't believe this was actually happening, or rather, that it was happening so late.

Stack leaned towards your neck, sucking and kissing wherever he could as you groaned, tilting your head back slightly. Mary was still on you, kissing you from cheek to cheek before she was back on your lips. You were overwhelmed a little, but the good type of overwhelmed.

Stack pulled away, his eyes lustful and full of want as he looked at both his girls. "I think we should take this upstairs."

taglist.

@abriefnirvana @childishgambinaax

reply if you want to be added!

[sailornymph]

i’d like to request general uchiha relationship headcanons? like relationship dynamics, how they’d treat you, whether or not they’d be into pda… stuff like that. thank you!!

someone like you; uchiha men

synopsis — the uchiha men relationship hcs

content warning — itachi’s death

a/n — my first two requests!!

♡ ︎madara uchiha

— this man is a handful, the overall madara experience is honestly

— he is attracted to your strength, then your face

— he is far from traditional, why follow what is known as the norm, when he isn’t a ordinary person

— he’s such a perfectionist, but he hides it behind his pride

— he’ll plan a really nice picnic thoroughly, from start to finish and if it doesn’t go to plan, just a little, he is mentally cursing himself

— he gets jealous easily, and isn’t shy about letting it be known. you allow a child to kiss your hand because of their admiration for you, he’s taking your hand back, wiping it, scoffing at the child

— you’re the first person he openly shares his plans with and if you’re a uchiha, he wants you to help him (to a certain extent)

— he is open to pda, but he is a respected leader, so it will be to a minimum. he’ll hold your hand, have an arm around you, even hug you, but that’s it

— he doesn’t really listen to what you’re talking to him about, but it’s because his mind is so focused on the clan and it’s future. when you get upset about him not listening, giving him the silent treatment, he gets upset and demands you retell him everything swearing that he will listen this time

— leading up to his death, he will make sure you are far from danger, allowing you to live the rest of your life safely

— 8/10. he seems dangerously wild and reckless to many, but in the midst of his chaos, he is always thinking of you, keeping your safety in mind, if you would like something, how you would feel, etc.

“where will we go?” you asked, gently combing through madara’s long thick hair.

“you don’t worry about any of it, i will take care of it and make sure you are someplace safe-

“i want to stay and fight alongside the others,” you admitted, making him look back at you.

“i won’t let you, many of them will die in battle, i will not lose you too,” his face hardening, but regardless, he faced forward, allowing you to continue combing.

“you won’t lose me”

“i know, because you will be far away from here, somewhere safe”

“madara”

“do not argue with me on this, please, i’ve thought over this too many times, you will not fight,” he raised his voice, but quickly stopped himself, shaking his leg, his way of calming his nerves.

“will you fight then?”

“i will come back to you,” he indirectly answered.

“and you don’t have another solution?”

“i’m afraid war is the best answer,” he said, pausing, examining you through the mirror, as you combed his hair. you didn’t want to throw your entire life away, you loved the clan so much, but your love for him outweighed the clan, you would go anywhere with madara, even he knew this.

“i am sorry, darling, if i could have known another way, then i would chose it for your sake, but i don’t, i will get revenge on all of them”

“i trust you, i’m worried, but i know you’ll protect me”

“i wish i could have given you a life without war and violence, if i didn’t make it back to you, you unfortunately have my blessing to move o-

“i couldn’t dare be with another, after experiencing you, i only want you, not someone like you. there isn’t a man i know as strong as you, who cares so deeply for the wellbeing of his clan or family,” you said, making him smirk.

“i am amazing, aren’t i?” he snickered.

“yes, so you better come back to me, promise me”

“i promise,” he turned kissing your lips, intertwining your pinkies. he would come back to you, and begin the next stage of his plan and he would spend every moment with you.

♡ itachi uchiha

— to be with this man, you will be find the most precious love, but you have embraced pain and suffering, because that is what you will be rewarded in the end

— he may be a mass murder, but he’s a gentleman to you lol

— he is quiet and very observant, and attempts to be traditional with you, but he isn’t living a traditional lifestyle, so he’ll eventually go with the flow, simply stopping by whenever he is free in between missions

— he isn’t the jealous type, but is protective. he had no intentions of dating, until after meeting you, he is very aware of your attractiveness. he could care less about strangers fawning over you, it is when it begins to become uncomfortable for you that he will intervene

— he’s a criminal so no regular couple activities, but sometimes you’ll make dango together and share them, or he’ll surprise you with breakfast

— he isn’t into pda, but he doesn’t mind having his arms around you, when it’s cold, putting his cloak on your body, or even kissing your hand (if no one is around)

— he listens to you and is very engaged during any conversation with you. he will ask questions and make small comments

— he secretly likes when you are doting on him, especially when he doesn’t feel well

— feeding him soup, placing a cool cloth on his head, helping him around your house, washing his hair, you’re the only person who has ever gotten to see him in such an intimate way

— your last memories with him, he will make sure they are nothing short of sweet, waking before you, surprising you with breakfast, ending the night with a soul crushing hug and kiss. his heart breaking even more, wondering and wishing how your lives would have been if things didn’t end up this way for him

— 8.9/10. other than the lack of normalcy and how he went and let his brother kill him, taking him away forever. he is far from perfect, but he is gentle and vulnerable always and everything he does for or to you, you will be able to see the love being poured into it

“did you enjoy today?” itachi asked, that peaceful smile appearing on his face.

“i did, but i always do,” you told him, as he wrapped his arms around you.

“i love you,” he blurted out.

“i love you too, tachi,” you grinned.

“i never thought i would never love again, after the things these hands have done, to my village, my clan, my parents, my brother-

“stop it, you were a child-

“i was apart of the anbu-

“following orders given to you by your superiors, you sacrificed yourself for them, you did what many could never bring themselves to do,” you told him, beginning to raise your voice.

“alright love, i hear you,” he smiled.

“good, i hate when you talk like that, even if the world hates you for what you’ve done. i love you for what you are,” you told him.

“i have only one regret-

“itachi”

“that i didn’t meet you sooner, or that i wasn’t born in a different village, so that we could have met long ago,” he sighed, reaching for your hand, bringing your fingers to his lips.

“but you have me now, and that’s all that matters,” you reassured him, your smile faltering seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“my baby brother, sasuke, he has grown strong enough to avenge them all,” itachi said, staring at you with a unfamiliar, distant look.

“what are you saying?”

“how did i get so fortunate to meet someone like you,” he said, ignoring your question, reaching to hold your face.

“itachi”

“i don’t think i could ever forget your blissful touch, so determined to make the headaches and fevers go away, and for a time, they did,” he began to wipe away your tears, not allowing them to fully run down your face.

“you're not going to die, stop talking like this, i don't want to hear it,” you said, but he only smiled.

“i'm sorry, my love, could i just hold you tonight? no more talking, just us, and our love” he asked. biting back your tears, you nodded, as he kissed your lips, for the final time, wrapping his arms around you. this would be his last moment with you, before his death.

♡ Indra ōtsutsuki

— so sorry for you if it is an arranged marriage because this man will treat you like garbage and not care about how you feel, at all!

— but for the sake of the need for happiness, let’s say he actually fell in love with someone

— he is the type to fall hard, he wasn’t looking for love at all, when you somehow managed to catch his eye, he can't get you out of his head

— he is very lowkey and secretive, so no one else finds out until asura catches him sneaking off from training to surprise you with flowers. he tells their father and when he is back home, he has to hear an earful about keeps something like this a secret

— very obviously old fashioned and leans heavily into society norms, as his partner, your role is to take care of the home-life, especially since you most likely are nowhere as strong as he is

— he is very jealous hearted, however, thankfully, he won’t direct it to you. asura keeps trying to be a little too nice for his liking, he’ll make sure to be rougher than usual, during training. the other men in the village are basically eye fucking you, it’s okay, just know they will disappear only to reappear someplace random, with a nasty bruise or two

— he doesn’t listen but tries to make up for it. you wanted a purple kimono with white flowers on it for your birthday, all he heard was kimono and will gift you a red one with a dragon on it and proceeds to be genuinely confused by your frowning

— once the relationship is no longer a secret, he will always have his hand on your lower back

— he yearns for your comfort and affection. he is stuck with these feelings of rejection, but you are always there to remind him of his worth

— 7.7/10. he may be a menace to many other people, but to you, other than human flaws, he loves so passionately.

“indra…what happened?” your heart sank at the sight.

“don’t look, turn around,” he said. his closest friends, both of them laid dead.

hesitantly, you turned your back to the scene, your breathing becoming rugged, as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“walk forward,” he muttered. he didn’t want you to see what was here. what he had done. to them, his friends since he was a child.

“indra-

“with immense stress and sadness, i’ve found that the sharingan will evolve,” he said, making you turn, facing him. his usual red eyes transformed into a newer version, tears pouring down his face.

“what did you do?” you asked, beginning to choke on your tears, as you held his face.

“i’m stronger than him, why am i not worthy? i helped those stupid people and it wasn’t enough to please father,” he said, the rage seeping from his aura.

“just because he can’t see your worth, doesn’t take away from who you are. you can still teach many people to learn and walk in your ways, indra,” you told him.

“what could you possibly see in someone like me?” he asked bitterly.

“how could i not be so in love with someone like you,” you countered.

“indra, what have you done?” asura and his father approached, making him glare in their direction.

“as many times as i am reincarnated, i will be sure to always find you again,” he said, about to face his brother.

“indra, don’t-

“wait for me, each time, i will always come for you,” he kissed your lips, his susanoo picking you up, tossing you into the nearby wheat fields. getting up to run towards the battle, a few villagers grabbed you, holding you back.

all you could do was cry, they had brought him to this point, it was all of their fault. you would wait for him and be there when he finally got the recognition he deserved.

♡ obito uchiha

— he’s not my favorite, but he is probably the best

— he feels broken, but for you to come along and fall in love with him, he will do everything in his power to not lose you

— you have been around him as tobi and you were amazed by the switch, suddenly he’s goofy and making joke after joke, although, you prefer plain old obito because you love his authentic self

— when it is just the two of you, he’s calm and a bit too serious, but he is very attentive. nothing you say or do goes unseen. from your favorite color to the name of your worst enemy, even if he isn’t responding he’s listening

— extremely jealous, but hides it very well, for your sake. you’re out shopping, he’s dressed as tobi, and the shop owner is staring, occasionally complimenting you too much. he’ll laugh about it as tobi, but come back later to slaughter them

— he is constantly thinking of ways to be romantic, asking konan to teach him origami, picking flowers, trying to learn recipes

— he feels love is rare to come by and the fact that he has found that cares for him genuinely, he wants to make you happy

— it is rare to be with tobi, but if you’re with him, he’ll say something like “lookie here, my angel,” spinning you around or any kind of pda. obito is a bit more hesitant, other than holding your hand or waist

— even in his final moments, his mind will drift to you, you are somewhere far away, safe, and he can’t help but wonder would you be proud of him for doing the right thing in the end

— 9.6/10. a love as pure as this is hard to come by. he loves so deeply and passionately, in the end, he hopes you would forgive him for the evils he has committed and simply remember all of his genuine love

reading a book, you could hear tobi’s goofy voice, making you place the bookmark inside. he was talking to someone. finally, as the the footsteps began to become distant, you sat up.

“hey,” you said shyly, going to stand up, staring at his disguise.

“hey,” he said, as the mask was pulled from his face, as you approached.

pressing his lips against your own, you hummed, breaking the kiss.

“let me look at you,” you smiled, staring at his face, before he covered his face with your hands.

“you don’t want to look at someone like me”

“i actually want nothing more than to look at someone like you, so handsome, such a good boy”

“i haven’t been a good boy, all the chaos-

“for me you have, and that’s all that matters to me,” you smiled, pecking his lips again, before placing a kiss on each of his eyes.

perhaps there was a mistake, he didn’t understand how he of all people ended up with such a beautiful partner, inside and out — but he would love you the best he could, for as long as he could.

♡ sasuke uchiha

— he is very interesting. if you’ve been together since teenagers, he stressed you the hell out and was super nonchalant about it

— if you managed to still be together after everything, then you will get to see firsthand, sasuke trying to unlearn old habits and try to understand how he can love you the way you deserve

— however, if you begin dating sasuke while he has the other emo haircut, then you are experiencing an entirely different person. when his old classmates told you about the things he did, you couldn't even believe them, until he told you it was all true

— sasuke is quiet, a bit awkward at times, but not shy. he will come across as a bit traditional

— he still struggles with being jealous, but not as easily nor as much as when you both were younger. back then, any guy who talked to you for too long was getting threatened by him, now he can't help but be a little upset at your coworkers who get more time with you

— he is terrible with all the new technology, all of the younger kids are using, so expect old fashion, but romantic advances

— writing you small notes, sending you flowers, walking you home from dates kind of man

— he cannot bring himself to do any pda, not even holding hands, the most he can do is walk close to you

— he’s always halfway listening, he gets stuck in his head at times, while nodding at your words. if he were to take you out on a date, he will randomly remember something you said and he will bring it up

— he struggles with communication badly and seems almost childlike with an anxious expression, as he struggles to find the words to say to you

— he feels embarrassed telling you how much you mean to him, so he’ll get you something instead. you didn’t think he was listening when you told him about your favorite fragrance, so he went and bought it, as a surprise

— 9.3/10. he’s trying his best. trying to redeem himself, all while fixing his relationship with you. he still has many things to work on, like his inability to communicate, but your history together, along with the changes he has made, how could you not love that face?

“did you enjoy tonight?” sasuke asked, as your shoulder brushed against his own.

“i did,” you smiled.

“good,” he hummed, before the two of you went back to a comfortable silence.

“sasuke,” a voice called out that you immediately recognized.

“naruto,” he nodded, as the hokage and his wife approached.

“you're back in town and didn't stop by?” naruto grumbled.

“i am spending time with y/n,” he said, making the couple's eyes shift to you.

“y/n? how are you? i haven't seen you in a while,” naruto smiled, as you politely bowed.

“how are you two-

“i need to get y/n to her house, she has work in the morning,” sasuke interrupted.

“you don't live together?” he exclaimed, gaining a few looks from people passing by.

“no-

“maybe after the proposal or wedding,” sasuke shrugged, while your eyes widened.

“that’s great to hear, i better be invited, stop by when you’re free, we have to leave, it’s date night,” naruto winked.

“it was wonderful seeing you again, y/n,” hinata smiled, as naruto excitedly pulled her to the newest ramen restaurant.

once the two of them were gone, you both began walking. nervously clutching your handbag, you didn’t know how to bring up his words-

“what is the matter?” sasuke asked.

“you told naruto we would live together after the proposal or wedding, is that true?” you asked, staring at your feet.

“yes, married couples live together, don’t they?”

“yes, but you’re sure want to do these with someone like me?”

“i haven’t been the best partner to you, and i’m trying to make it up to you, however, my promise is still the same as it was back then,” he said, his hand brushing against your own.

you smiled thinking of the memory, sasuke was leaving, joining orochimaru, when he stopped at your house to say goodbye. you cried bitterly, as he held you close, promising if he didn’t die, and finally became stronger, he would come back for you. he wanted to marry you, and while it wasn’t much of a priority anymore, younger sasuke guaranteed that it was only you, he planned to restore his clan with.

“it was a long time ago, i made those promises, am i someone you'd do these things with?” he asked, hesitantly.

“of course”

“even after everything-

“when you left, i tried dating. it was a failure, none of them were ever good enough. i searched and i couldn't find someone like you, so i decided to wait until you came back to me because i knew you'd get stronger,” you smiled.

“i love you, a lot,” he said, stoically.

“i know dear, i love you too,” you laughed.

quietly huffing, he felt like he was moving in slow motion. for the first time in years, he reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers.

“we should go ring shopping, once you're done with work tomorrow,” he said.

“sounds great, can i ask you a question?” you said, your face burning in exhilaration.

“anything”

“do you still want to restore your clan?”

“only if it is something you wanted, i doubt work would allow me to have too many children, maybe one or two,” he admitted.

“that’s completely manageable, have you ever thought of baby names?” you caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly.

“only if it was a girl, i was thinking sarada, for reasons,” he glanced over at you.

“it's unique, i like it,” you said, as he finally stopped in front of your house.

“thank you for walking me home”

“you are welc-

“would you like to spend the night? i mean, its late and-

“would you be okay with me being here?” he asked, smiling as you nodded shyly.

“lead the way,” he nodded, taking off his shoes, following you into your home for the night.

[kwanniverse]

the way back home

[you as seventeen's 14th female member series]

relationship: platonic genre(s): lots of comfort, very touching, happy ending!! warning(s): none word count: ~3.3k summary: it's simple. they miss her. so does she. fate brought them together as fourteen, and fate lead her the way back home, to them, to seventeen, to the fourteen of them together.

pt 3 of 14th member 'home' short series, read pt1 here, and pt2 here! special epilogue here!

this is the last part that i'm so sorry took ages to upload i was facing some glitch issue but its finally here! thanks for all the support on this one and this series was sm fun to write! finally happy ending haha, hope you enjoy and if you like this, follow for more works!

you stared at the screen, heart stumbling in your chest.

“please... if you ever read this, just let us know you're okay.”

simple. soft. almost too careful. and somehow, it shattered your breath in your lungs.

it didn’t say "come back." it didn’t demand forgiveness. it didn’t pretend like everything was fine.

just… are you okay.

a second ding snapped you out of your thoughts.

slowly, you unlocked your phone and the same message reappeared.

your thumb hovered over the reply box. the cursor blinked expectantly, a small, pulsing invitation. your fingers trembled. you didn’t know what to say. how to answer. how to unravel the storm of emotion that churned beneath your ribs.

you had spent weeks burying the ache. painting over your grief with quiet routines and solitude. the first night alone, you didn’t sleep. the second night, you cried so hard you thought the walls would crack. by the fifth, your tears ran dry—but your heart stayed heavy.

and still, you stayed away.

you remembered the exact words thrown at you like knives. remembered how they didn’t flinch when you begged to be heard. remembered walking out with your dignity fraying, wondering if any of them would run after you.

none did.

you told yourself that was the end. that you had to move on. you filled your days with meaningless errands, sat alone in cafes where no one knew your name, stared at your reflection until you couldn’t recognize the girl who once stood on stage beside thirteen boys who promised you forever. but no matter how far you tried to run from that night, the memories lingered like bruises beneath your skin.

and yet... here was this message. not a grand gesture. not an apology.

a thread.

a whisper in the dark.

your thumb moved instinctively. maybe to type. maybe to block. maybe to finally scream everything you never got to say. but your chest tightened. your breath caught. your vision blurred.

you couldn’t answer. not yet.

forgiveness wasn’t easy. and love—once shattered—didn’t always come back whole. sometimes it returned cracked and tender, quieter than before, needing time to find its shape again. you closed your eyes, pressing the phone to your chest, as if you could absorb their remorse through the glass. the silence pressed in. your tea remained cold.

but there was something else now.

a seed. not quite hope. not yet forgiveness. just... a crack in the door. and yet, you smiled. faint, small, weak, but it was a smile. your lips curved upwards, your eyes twitched, and you smiled. you smiled.

and maybe a smile was all it took to change everything.

as it seems fate must have seen your smile, everything that unfolded the next few days went past in a blink of an eye.

it started small.

a box at your door. no name, no label—just a small, careful thing wrapped in brown paper and string. inside, a tiny fox plush you thought you’d lost forever. the one you used to carry on every tour stop, tucked safely into your bag. the one you clutched in your dorm bed during hard nights when the noise of the world grew too sharp. the one you left behind in your rush to escape the silence.

its fur was ragged. its eye was a little crooked, sewn back on with mismatched thread. but it was there. home. taped to its ear was a note. just three words, scrawled in a handwriting you knew by heart.

"we kept it."

you stared at it for hours, fingers curling tightly around its small body, the thread catching on your skin like memory. you didn’t cry. not yet. but the ache in your chest shifted. just a little.

two days later, your name trended. not for scandal. not for speculation. not for the usual rumors that followed silence. but for a song. seventeen had released a new track—no teasers, no schedule. just lyrics. and those lyrics were for you. you.

not directly. not by name. but in the way they sang about missing pieces. about empty spaces no light could fill. about the sound of laughter that no longer echoed in the corners of their home.

“we counted stars and missed one. the one we let fall.”

“we built a stage, but without you, it echoes.”

“sorry doesn’t rewind time—but if it could, we’d have shouted your name louder than our pride.”

the bridge was seungcheol’s voice—raw, hoarse, frayed with the weight of words too long unspoken.

“we thought silence would keep the peace. but we let it bury you.”

and when the chorus hit, something in you cracked. not like a break. more like the sound of a door finally creaking open after being shut too long. this wasn’t for image. this wasn’t to win anyone back. it was a confession laid bare, trembling on a melody. they didn’t stop.

little things. quiet things. deliberate things.

a delivery of banana milk—your favorite brand, always hard to find—arrived at your door, with a sticky note clumsily written in pink pen: don’t forget to eat, shortie <3 you knew that handwriting. woozi. though he’d never admit the heart was his.

then came a hoodie. yours. worn, familiar. it smelled faintly like jun’s cologne and the detergent from the dorm. something tucked into the pocket. a usb drive. you hesitated. then you remembered your smile from just a few days back. you missed smiling like that with them. you missed the pillow fights, the binge watching of kdramas at midnight (where you and seungkwan cried together every time), you missed the dorm chaos, the late night convenience store runs for instant noodles and hoshi's very important jongga kimchi, you missed the many hours of non-stop practicing and falling on your backs, exhausted when you were done but seventeen always encouraging you, you missed singing in woozi's recording studio, and yet most of all, you didn't want to admit it, but you missed them. without a second's thought, you plugged it in. your hands trembled.

it was a video.

no makeup. no glamour. no edits. just the thirteen boys you once called family, huddled in the messy dorm living room. no script. just heart. seungkwan was the first to speak.

“hi, y/n. if you’re watching this… i guess you didn’t block us. yet.” he tried to smile, but his lips trembled. “that’s… already more than we deserve.” he stepped aside, and the others took turns—raw, breaking, real.

jeonghan didn’t smile for once. his voice shook. “i was cruel. i acted like you were a burden. but it was me. i couldn’t admit how much i needed you. so i hurt you first. that’s cowardice. i know. and i’m sorry.”

mingyu looked like he hadn’t slept in days. dark circles, red-rimmed eyes. “you begged us to listen. and i… i stayed quiet. i thought it’d blow over. that you’d come back on your own. but you didn’t. because we broke something. and we’re the ones who need to fix it. not you.”

vernon didn’t say much. he sat in the back, silent tears tracing paths down his cheeks. his voice was quiet, almost inaudible. “i miss you every day. and god i'm sorry. for everything i said, i know my words hit you the hardest and i'd regret them every day for the rest of my life.”

joshua spoke gently, his voice a hushed apology. “i used to call you my little sister. but i wasn’t the brother you needed. i saw you slipping. i knew you were breaking. and i looked away.” his voice broke. “i failed you. i’m so sorry.”

dk had drawn something—a crumpled comic of you and the group, stick figures with exaggerated smiles and sparkles. at the bottom, it read: we’ll wait. even if it takes forever, because forever is the 14 of us. hoshi didn’t speak much. just held up a sign. you’re our 14th. you will and have always been. nothing changes that.

the camera panned. seokmin was crying silently, holding a tissue to his nose. even wonwoo—stoic, usually unreadable—was blinking fast, jaw clenched like he was holding back a sob. minghao’s voice, usually sharp and precise, came softer this time. “i thought i was being honest. but honesty without empathy is just… sharp edges. i was so focused on being right, i forgot what it meant to be kind. i forgot you. i’m so sorry.” then it was seungcheol again. he sat at the front, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“no excuses,” he said. “no begging. just… if you still have space for us—any space—we’ll fill it with love this time. the kind that listens. that stays. that protects.” his voice cracked. “we’ll never be whole without you. but we don’t expect you to come back to broken promises. so this time, we’ll earn it. we'll wait, as long as eternity takes because fate will always bring us together, all fourteen of us, fate will lead the way back home.”

you didn’t reply. not right away.

but you watched that video three times a day.

you slept with the fox plush again. you cried into your pillow until your chest ached from the effort. you whispered their names like prayers, like scars, like lullabies. you missed them. you missed them. you missed seventeen.

and suddenly, one day, you showed up.

no warning. no message.

just the quiet sound of your footsteps outside the dorm, your hand hesitating on the door handle. your stomach lurched and hurled, your heartrate increasing rapidly. you could hear the blasting of music inside and the laughs that didn't quite resonate with you. those laughs weren't their laughs. you could imagine and picture how they smiled, but their smiles never really reached as high as usual. you breathed, and you pressed down the door handle. when you opened it, the music stopped. bodies froze. thirteen pairs of eyes turned toward you. the silence was deafening.

the dorm was dim, soft yellow light flickering against the walls, casting long shadows that felt more comforting than eerie. the quiet hum of the heater filled the space between heartbeats. no one spoke for a while—not out of awkwardness, but reverence. like they were sitting in the presence of something sacred.

you found your way back home.

you were back home.

you were home.

home.

you stood there, arms wrapped around yourself, heart thundering. and for a moment, no one moved. then seungcheol stepped forward, slow, cautious, like you were a dream he was afraid to touch. he didn’t reach out. didn’t overwhelm you. just looked you in the eyes. “don’t say anything if you’re not ready,” he whispered. “we won’t mess this up again. just… let us show you. let us try.”

and you broke.

not in anger. not in bitterness.

you folded.

you wept.

and they ran to you.

seungcheol was the first to break the silence, voice low, heavy.

“i rehearsed this a hundred times in my head,” he said, hands folded tightly in his lap. “and every time, i thought it wouldn’t matter. that maybe… we were too late. i led us. i’m supposed to protect us. and i failed you. i let the room turn against you, let the air grow too heavy for you to breathe. i thought if i kept quiet, if i stayed neutral, i could keep the peace. but silence was the wound. you didn’t need me to be neutral. you needed me to fight for you.” he looked down, knuckles white. “i’m sorry. i’ll never choose peace over you again.”

jeonghan leaned back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling like he couldn’t bear to look at you directly. “you were always the softest of us. so easy to tease. i thought it was harmless—jokes, sarcasm, a little push here and there. but i crossed lines. i saw the cracks and kept poking anyway, because i didn’t want to deal with my own guilt. when you left, it felt like karma. and it hurt. because i finally saw how much you gave us, and how little we gave back. i’m sorry i didn’t protect your heart.”

joshua reached for your hand gently, like he was asking for permission just to hold it, and you let him. “i always said i’d be your big brother. but i wasn’t. i saw how tired you were, how much you wanted to be heard, and i did nothing. i thought… maybe you’d tell someone else. maybe it wasn’t my place. but i knew. and i didn’t act. and that’s worse than ignorance, isn’t it? i love you. we all do. and you deserved every ounce of that love when it would’ve mattered most.”

jun’s voice was quiet, but steady. “you made us laugh. even on days we didn’t deserve to smile. you stood beside us, even when we made you feel like you stood alone. and that’s what kills me. i let you feel alone. you were never a guest in this group. you were one of us. my family. my sister. and it breaks something in me to know you didn’t feel that. i’ll spend the rest of our days showing you differently.”

hoshi sat forward, elbows on his knees, heart in his throat. “i’m the mood maker, right? the sunshine. but when you needed light, i was somewhere else. i brushed off your pain. called it a bad day. told you to just cheer up. but you weren’t being dramatic. you were drowning. and i didn’t throw the rope. i let my brightness blind me. i’m so, so sorry.”

wonwoo cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the floor. “i don’t talk much. that’s not new. but with you, i thought you could feel my care, even in the quiet. turns out, silence doesn’t always equal comfort. sometimes, it’s just emptiness. i should’ve said something. anything. stood up. said, ‘hey, she’s hurting. why aren’t we listening?’ but i didn’t. and that silence, it haunts me.”

woozi was next. his voice, usually sharp and purposeful, cracked on the first syllable. “i pride myself on my words. on knowing how to say things in songs when i can’t in real life. but i had no lyrics for you. no defense. i failed you as a producer, as a member, as a brother. you were hurting right in front of me, and i just… turned it into fuel for another track instead of holding your hand. i don’t want to write about you in past tense anymore. i want you here. and i’ll work every day to earn that.”

minghao leaned forward, gaze intense but gentle. “i thought i was being fair. critical. honest. but my honesty cut too deep. i wanted you to grow, but not like that. not at the cost of your spirit. i forgot that growth without care is just cruelty. and i know now… i wasn’t helping. i was hurting you, and calling it ‘tough love.’ that’s not love. and i see that now. i want to be better. for you. for all of us.”

mingyu’s hands shook a little as he spoke. “i’m supposed to be the warm one. the one who notices when someone’s quiet, who cheers people up. but i didn’t notice you were breaking. i was too focused on my own stress, my own tunnel vision. and i took your strength for granted. thought you’d always bounce back. but you weren’t okay. and i didn’t see it until you were gone. i’m sorry. i missed you so much it hurt.”

dokyeom’s voice was thick with emotion, his eyes already red. “every time i laughed after you left, it felt wrong. like something sacred was missing. you were our harmony. our balance. our smile. and i didn’t defend you when the room turned cold. i should’ve shouted. should’ve cried. should’ve done something. but all i did was smile like everything was fine. and when you left, i realized… my smile was hollow without you.”

seungkwan didn’t try to hide his tears. “i was so mad at you. not because you left. but because i couldn’t stop you. because it hurt so much to watch you walk out and not chase after you. i was scared. scared that if i ran after you, you’d say goodbye to my face. and i couldn’t handle that. so i said nothing. and every day since, i wished i had done anything. screamed. cried. begged. something. because now all i have is regret.”

vernon was quiet, then said softly: “i didn’t know how to help you. i never know what to say when things go bad. but i saw you. i noticed when your smiles didn’t reach your eyes. i noticed when you stayed behind after practice. and i noticed… when the light in you started to flicker. and i just watched. i’m sorry i didn’t speak up. you deserved someone louder.”

dino reached for your hand last, eyes wide and brimming. “i always looked up to you. you made me feel like i wasn’t the only one who had to prove something. we were the youngest. we got each other. and i let you down. i thought if i stayed quiet, they’d stop fighting. but my silence made them think it was okay. i miss you so much. please let us try again. please let me stand with you this time.”

you looked around the room—at the broken boys who had once let you walk out without a word. and now, they were here, laying their hearts bare on the floor, asking for another chance not through performance or apology—but through vulnerability. your voice shook when you finally answered.

“it’s not perfect. i’m still healing. but… i believe you.”

the relief that washed over them was silent, like a storm breaking.

you were home.

and this time, they’d never let you feel alone in it again. they slowly huddle together, forming a circle around you, and then cheol asked, his voice shaky, "may we hug you?"

you didn't answer, yet your open arms gave them a good enough answer to absolutely give you the most tight-squeezing, suffocating hug you've ever been hugged your whole life. it wasn't to smother you, it wasn't to fix it in one hug. but to hold you. to cradle every piece of you that fractured that night. to apologize with every trembling breath.

dino clung to you, his body trembling. “i thought you hated me,” he sobbed. “i thought we lost you forever.” you cupped his face, tears streaking your cheeks. “you didn’t lose me,” you whispered. “i just needed time to find myself again.”

joshua stood behind him, eyes red. “can we… start over?” you smiled through your tears, voice shaking. “no. let’s pick up where we left off. but better.”

that night, the dorm felt like home again. laughter returned—cautious, softer, but real. you all sat in a circle. takeout containers half-eaten. hands tangled in yours. hoshi placed a paper crown on your head.

“for our princess,” he grinned. “the 14th star.” you laughed. really laughed. and so did they. their real laughs this time.

and something in you began to mend. they didn’t pretend everything was perfect. they didn’t rush your healing. but they stayed. they listened. they learned how to love you the right way.

and finally, for the first time in what felt like forever…

you let them, because you knew the way back home would always lead you to them, to the 13 quirky dorks that made your life both miserable and full of joy, to the thirteen of them you couldn't express enough gratitude towards, to seventeen.

[berritart]

jealous roommate!vi

cw - nsfw (+18), pet names (baby, angel), vi is a hypocrite, vi calls reader slut once, afab reader, thigh riding, fingering (r!recieving), not proofread

wc - 900

a/n - haven't wrote in FOREVER, sorry if this sucks. vv i mean vv self indulgent as well but anywho

you couldn't believe it.

you never thought you would be this easy. you felt like you had more restraint to end up in a situation like this, one that would haunt you for the next two semesters you would have to share a dorm with her.

"over a silly date?" you question, barely even able to focus on your own thoughts. your mind was going three hundred miles per hour at this point. you feel nothing but your roommate vi's two fingers pump in and out of your aching cunt. her thumb grazing circles on your clit ever so softly.

you two were in your bed, your body fully naked in between vi's legs. her hand holding your pliant body against her clothed chest by the waist.

"never again." vi's tongue traced against the shell of your ear and softly nipped down, not slowing her brutal pace of her fingers. "dont go on anymore dates. yeah?"

only quiet whimpers and pants came out of your mouth, disregarding any of the words the redhead even said to you. "don't tell me you're already going dumb on my fingers angel." vi chuckles, tugging your head back roughly. "answer me."

you didn't even know why vi, of all people, was acting like this towards you. you knew how she was, how she would always have a girl in her arm everytime she walked into the door. the crazy amount of failed talking stages slipping pathetic notes into your shared dorm. vi had enough poor girls on her roster, but you having a date, one that'll possibly never happen again, is where she drew the line.

"y-yes. no more i promise." you didn't feel like arguing with her and pointing out her hypocrisy at the moment so you gave her what she wanted, your compliance. and besides, her long fingers felt better than your own. you needed this.

you thought you satisfied vi enough until she tugged at your hair once more, keeping your head tilted back. her narrowed eyes was kept onto your tear-filled ones. "you let her fuck you?" she questioned, slipping one more finger into your dripping cunt, producing a high pitched whimper from your lips.

"no- o-oh my god vi" her fingers began going faster than ever, curling and hitting the spot oh so deep inside you. "we didn't fuck--" you gripped onto her bicep, your freshly manicured nails creating deep crescents in her skin. the feeling pooling at the pit of your stomach continuously grew. you were close and she knew it.

so she stopped.

she fucking stopped.

she withdrew her fingers from your wet pussy, creating a vulgar squelch before placing the digits in her mouth.

you turned around to face her, climbing on top of her clothed thigh. you looked like a pissed rabid animal, your widen eyes full of need. you grabbed her hand, leading it to where you needed her the most, just for her to yank it away. groans of fustration leaving your mouth. "vi please i need it, i need you. please don't be like this" tears threatening to fall from your pleading eyes.

you looked so pathetic to her. vi never seen you so disarmed and submissive before, always getting your way. it did something to her, something that no plain ol' orgasm caused by her fuck buddies could do. she liked- no loved seeing you like this. it was way more than enough for her to get off.

"god i wish you could see yourself right now." vi squished your cheeks, manhandling your face to meet her eyes once again. "need you to see the needy little slut you're acting like right now. over my fingers at that."

she grabbed your hips with both of her hands, gripping and pulling you down to her jean clad thigh. "go on, finish on my thigh baby."

you didn't hesitate to begin your movements, letting the material of her jeans graze your clit. in this state you wouldn't be lasting longer than a minute. "f--feels so good vi.." you whimpered, holding onto her shoulders as you picked up the pace of your hips.

"i can hear her baby, so fuckin wet. she needs me huh?" vi grinned against your heated neck, scattering dark purple bites all over. "need me to fuck her just right, gonna have her creaming all over my cock." her words made your nods frantic, your hips bucking faster than ever before. "mhm...she n--needs you vi." she chuckles at your words, her hand landing harshly against your ass, causing you to yelp. "and only me. no one is gonna fuck you like i do" you hum in agreement, feeling your climax sneak up on you.

her hands find it's way to your waist, dragging you close enough to kiss you. "go on, cum on my thigh." she moans against your month, her tongue pushing past your lips.

after a few more movements of your hips your orgasm rushes over you, "i--i'm cumming vi- god..." your body starts shaking from the harshness of your climax, your arms draping over vi's neck pulling her close. her hands find its way to your waist, keeping you steady.

your body goes limp in her arms, fatigue clouding your brain. "there there..." vi whispers softly, placing you directly on your bed. she brushes the stray hairs from your face, hesitantly kissing your now bruised lips.

"get some rest angel.."

a/n - lowkey was hot ass but i'll get my groove back #soon

[evilminji]

I think I figured it out?

My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?

Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.

Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.

Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?

.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.

The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.

It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.

He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!

But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?

Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!

It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.

At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!

Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!

He graduates.

He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.

He applies anyway.

Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.

Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.

And...

Huh.

The answer depends?

In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.

He...backs away slowly.

Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.

Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.

Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.

Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.

Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.

Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.

He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.

There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.

He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.

Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?

........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

[msfandomsblog]

Alastor x fem!ballerina-reader

This is my first alastor x reader fic! I don't know how many parts imma make but it will be somewhat a slow burn.

Also this is mostly your backstory

Hope you enjoy!

warnings: use of y/n, being laughed at, implied death, blood, readers insane like Al, guns, suicide, kinda short anddddddd yeah

In life you were one of the greatest pointe dancer in the world. In death, eh, not so much. Yes you danced but this was simple practice, hell wasn't exactly known for its refined~ practice. Your demon form was simple, you were tall (charlie sized) pale and had small wings on your back. Swan wings, that you could enlarge in and out at your will, not that you usually needed to. You mostly had them compact to your back. Most of your friends wondered why you were in hell to begin with, you were always civil to most characters. There was ofc the off-hand time where you'd threaten any demon who'd dare touch you or close friends, but... who's keeping count!?

As for the reason why you were there well... yes being a dancer had its purks but, it had just as many faults.

More then once at a young age in life you were cast for the villain rolls of dances, plays, etc.

You asked you teachers why and their answer was always, "the way you play it y/n! your body language, face and being on stage! you just do it so well"

As you progressed through as an actress and dancer you were never the 'princess' or the main heroin. Only the dark, cold villain. The black swan, The mouse king, Maleficent. How you longed to be the beauty and not the beast.

Not only did this anger you but soon after a while many other dancers would avoid you because of your 'villain' demeanor on stage. This caused you to grow a hatred for your fellows. It all became too much one day.

It was dress rehearsal, your last one before your last show, and the boys got a wise idea for a prank to play on their black swan. When rehearsing your first entrance you moved over to stage right when suddenly a type of slime/glue pored on you, burning your eyes and ruining your clothes. Then the lead boy shot what looked like a party popper at you but instead of confetti, landed black feathers. The boys were on hunched over laughing, 'childish' you thought while glaring at them.

Every other dancer turned their heads or ran over to see what was oh so funny. Once they all started laughing or turned their head to hide smiles, the director yelled at them all, "oi! that's enough, this isn't a baby recital that you did when you were 5! this isn't mature! Boys, help y/n and run 40 laps around the stage ey?" But it was too late, you'd decided right then and there.

So they saw you as the villain hm? You'd be happy to oblige.

The next day you played your part amazingly well but it was your next audition that excited you. It was for the seasonal part in the nutcracker. As always you were given the part, The mouse king.

When you met the lead playing Clara, the young girl heroin, you saw she was a perfectly civil young dancer. She met her end quickly enough tho.

When you came around to auditioning for The Sleeping Beauty and once again did not get Aurora, you found it quite enjoyable to get rid of the blonde broad that played her.

Then there was Romeo and Juliet. you never did audition for this one, reasons unknown to you. But when you did you somehow found that you felt no sadness you got the email saying that you didn't get the part of Juliet. You instead found joy when you cracked a wide smile as the blood of the girl who did get the part flowed down your hands.

Pretty thing she was, good dancer too. poor thing. ah well.

After about 3 years of of getting away with this little 'hobby; of yours you were found out and surrounded by a large S.W.A.T team. The team leader spoke softly to you.

"Miss y/n, please put your hands up, and drop the gun."

You were so annoyed by this, you'd had to use the damn thing to kill a small African-american girl who was playing Coopelia. You didn't like using guns but this was supposed to be quick. You'd even bought a silencer for the job.

"No officer, I don't think I will." You said back. you smiled as you turned to face the 20 guns pointed at you.

"You won't make it out alive L/n" He said trying to convince you.

"I don't plan on it," And smiling you flipped them off as you shot the gun at your own neck.

OKKKKKKK that was part 1! I hope ya'll like it and stay tuned. I don't know if you could tell but I am ballet dancer, I'm not professional yet but I know quite a bit.

y/n might be oc just a warning but again my first fic sooooo.

Anyway!!!!!! have a good day/night little humans!

part 2!

[seirindono]

TMS - Author's note (Arc 1)

Today I'm stepping up to talk about TMS for a while. It's going to be a lot of blah blah, no TLDR, so hang in there or save it for later if you're brave enough, haha (¯▿¯)

So, another chapter of TMS draws to a close, with the difference that this time it's a whole saga that's coming to an end! That's a big relief for me, given that we recently celebrated the comic's 4th anniversary! That's almost the entire duration of my college life, and that's both an impressive and terrifying achievement lol.

The comic is divided into 3 arcs, each separated by an interlude. The first runs from part 1 to 8, with 201 pages total (wow!). In it, you are introduced to Mel, a young skeleton with a rather unclear past, who accidentally arrives in a a foreign timeline, along with other well known skeletons. Nowadays it's just an isekai haha. Throughout the arc, she proves to be a cautious Monster, quiet and somewhat withdrawn compared to the other skeletons we come across, notably Rus, Blue and Axe, who each got their own sequences.

Still, Mel in the last few scenes is starting to show more initiative, and the interlude will make this even more obvious, but we can expect her to open up a lot more during the next Arc, about her past, motives, goals and thoughts.

I could go on at length about what's in store for us in the interlude, but given that it's due for release sometime in 2024, I'm going to talk about the general story line instead. Although we follow Mel who is foreign to what's going on in this universe prior to her arrival, the other characters and events suggest that strange phenomena are taking place in Ebott, leading many people to become embroiled in a highly unusual affair. Crossing timelines, earthquakes, mysterious apparitions in the forest, something is afoot and the situation seems to be at a turning point when Mellow gets here.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with the situation and what to do next. Some are serious and pragmatic, like Black, others optimistic, like Blue, and others, like Papyrus, find themselves completely backed into a corner, forced to do their best to fix whatever needs to be.

A special case, however, is Axe, whom Mel meets in the forest as she investigates Mt. Ebott. The two have diametrically opposed views of their current condition. One wants to return to her world by any means necessary, regardless of the advantages of a peaceful world. The other, not so much. Both refuse to talk about their past and ignore the other's circumstances, but a sense of familiarity drives them to try to convince the other to stay or go. These are two stark positions to reconcile, and while we can expect Blue and the other skeletons to have their own views on the subject too, Mel and Axe are strangely "committed" in this interraction and resort to violence, spurred on by a unknown substance that causes Axe to momentarily lose control.

Mel is wounded, Axe unconscious, and the status quo disrupted. Other consequences follow this confrontation, and several questions are raised: Can Blue really help Mel when Axe accuses him of having already given up on going home himself? What is this mysterious entity Axe came across a few days earlier? The vibrations? What was that substance that made him go berserk? And what made him stop? Can we trust Mel and what she tells us? And many others.

Because as I'm sure many of you have come to realize, Mel has proven to be a rather unreliable narrator (or at least character since you don't follow her actual POV). Blatantly lying or omitting facts to others and readers alike, it's hard to know her next move and whether she's genuinely forgotten important infos (for it's well established at this stage that she has hazy memories and that they continue to deteriorate. The same applies to her health).

In the same way, each part of TMS so far has raised more questions than it has answered, but I can confidently say that the road is paved for Arc 2 to answer and put in perspective most of them, ahah.

Ah, this is also the moment when I can announce that ALL skeletons will be featured in the Interlude. Should be. Hopefully.

I'd also like to point out a few narrative changes for Act 2! The central characters, in particular. Original cast characters such as Undyne, Metatton and a veiled character will be more formally introduced, but we'll also meet up with characters we've already bumped into, but in a much more concrete way, such as Frisk and Alphys. I can't wait for you to get to know them! You can also expect more pov changes, more elipses and so on. Things are moving fast.

But that begs the question. When is it due? As said before, the first Arc lasted 4 years and I'm entering my last (and most crucial) year of college. I still don't know if I'll have time to get much of it done in 2025, but on the other hand, I'd like to strike while the iron's hot lest TMS be discontinued after a 1-year hiatus and my entry into the working world. Student loan, life and all. There are still plenty of things I'd like to bring to this project, and I now have the skills to actually carry them out, but on the other hand, the time involved has also increased exponentially.

Tbh with you, as an animation student, it's been one of my dreams since 2020 to do one of TMS's sequences in animatic or full anim, or even a trailer for the comic! But as a solo team, it's just unreasonable and I know it. But the parasite ----. Don't get me wrong, I could, but it would take me months and it's just not realistic when 80% of my time has to go into professionnal work that goes into my portefolio or adult stuff. I can't affort to invest time in solo-ing it or to recruit and lead a team over one side project of mine ( ´ ▿ ` ) So we'll most likely stick to classic pages.

But the same goes for collabs, community events, side stories, asks, edits, dubs, testing other platforms, regular animatics. Love all of that. Really. But I never have the time to because, man, I'd love to actually finish TMS someday ahah. It all comes back to the age-old problem of “lots of ideas, little time”, and it's so frustrating but, it's a choice I have to stick to, so bear with me as I vent my frustration. Just for tonight (´ ∀ `, *)

So, yes. Act 2. Next year? Probably? It's a long interlude, so you'll get smth in the meantime, but it's likely to decide the future of TMS and whether Act 2 sees the light of day as I imagine it or if...well, something else replaces it.

bringing back this doodle cuz it seems fiting lol

Anyway, I also wanted to thank you for your engagement with Part 8!

I don't know how other comic artists experience it, but for me it's a very isolated work, and as much as I love working alone, I enjoy the interaction with readers most of all.

Seeing people losing their mind over a serious scene, or chuckling at a dumb gag, or just simping over the characters and art. It's just great, and very rewarding. Likewise, I have a blast answering questions about the TMS universe, reading tags and receiving memes, witnessing people go increasingly mad with messages full of indecipherable screams and hearts. Makes me giggle and kick my feet everytime and I can't wait to drop the next lore bomb or funny scene bwahahah

And while we're on the subject, I'd like to say a special word of thanks to the legions of rebloggers who make it their business to spread the word about TMS. You sweet, lovely, candy scented folks. And to my dear mutuals - with whom I interact objectively so little - who have no idea how a single message or note from them drives me bonkers. Thanks for dropping by. And of course to my super Patreons who support me despite the sparse updates, but to whom I'm more than grateful. Love you all.

Sounds like a farewell message. It's not lol. Just making sure they get the love they deserve.

The post is getting long and I'm kind of done pretending I know how to write organized notes so to wrap things up, here's an exhaustive list of what I'd like to get done this year and/or discuss in more detail another day. •Make a new masterpost (for Act 2) •Analyze/Comment certain sequences from Act 1 to clarify or give context •Redraw and rewrite part 1 and 2 •Make more bonus content again *ahahahahahaha*

•Re open or close the Discord (partially abandoned and it's all on me, but I'm still mulling it over).

•Finish the Interlude and enjoy and nice hiatus

And that's about it? Congratulation for reading this and making it this far! You were there!

Be well, and see you next time.

Seirin-

First part | Prev | Next (INTERLUDE)

Ko-fi | Patreon | Comic | Commissions  | To support the comic

[tobiosbbyghorl]

Hyper & Chill | psh

act 36: Graduation Stress and What-ifs

prev

Sunghoon had always been your rock, your constant, your person. But as graduation loomed closer, the weight of uncertainty settled heavily on both of your shoulders.

The apartment, usually filled with laughter, now carried an air of silent stress—unfinished assignments, job applications, and the unspoken fear of what comes next.

One evening, you found yourself buried under a pile of notes at the dining table, barely noticing when Sunghoon placed a cup of tea beside you. He sat down across from you, chin resting on his palm, watching as you furiously scribbled down revisions.

“Lolove,” he called softly.

You hummed in response, not looking up.

“You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

You sighed, finally meeting his gaze. “I just… I don’t know, Hoon. What if I’m not ready? What if I don’t get the job I want? What if—”

“What if everything turns out okay?” he countered gently, reaching for your hand. “What if we figure things out together?”

The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored yours. As much as you were drowning in your own fears, you knew Sunghoon had his own what-ifs too—his own anxieties about the future, about what was next for both of you.

“What if we don’t end up in the same place?” you whispered, finally voicing the thought that had been eating away at you.

Sunghoon exhaled, his grip on your hand tightening. “Then we make it work.”

You scoffed. “It’s not that easy.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But neither of us got this far just to give up, right?”

There was a long pause before he stood up, moving around the table to pull you into his arms. You buried your face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

“I’m scared too,” he murmured. “But I meant what I said. You’re my home. No matter where we end up, no matter what happens, I’ll always find my way back to you.”

His words made your chest tighten, a mix of love and fear swirling inside you. You clutched his hoodie, grounding yourself in his warmth. “Promise?”

Sunghoon leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Promise.”

The days leading up to graduation were filled with bittersweet moments. You both juggled last-minute projects, future plans, and the overwhelming emotions of closing a chapter in your lives. Some nights, Sunghoon would pull you away from your books just to cuddle on the couch, forcing you to take a break. Other nights, you did the same for him, massaging his shoulders when you noticed the tension in his posture.

One night, after another long day, you found yourselves lying on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling.

“I had a dream last night,” Sunghoon started, voice quiet in the dimly lit room.

“Yeah? What about?”

“You and me. In our own place—bigger than this one. You were in the kitchen, dancing while cooking, and I was just watching, thinking, ‘Wow, I really get to have this forever.’”

Your heart clenched at the imagery. “Sounds like a nice dream.”

“It does,” he agreed, turning to face you. “And I want it to be real.”

You turned your head as well, meeting his gaze in the soft glow of the fairy lights hanging on the wall. “Me too.”

He smiled, lacing his fingers with yours. “Then let’s make it happen.”

Graduation day finally arrived, and while the stress hadn’t completely faded, the excitement of the moment took over. As you walked across the stage, you spotted Sunghoon in the crowd, grinning ear to ear as he clapped loudly. When it was his turn, you did the same, nearly screaming his name.

Later, at dinner with both of your families, the conversation took a playful turn.

“So, what’s next for the both of you?” your mom asked, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Before you could answer, Sunghoon’s dad chuckled. “They’ve already been living together. Marriage should be next, don’t you think?”

Sunghoon smirked, nudging you with his elbow. “What do you say, Lolove? Wanna just skip to the ‘happily ever after’ part?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks heating up. “Let’s focus on surviving post-grad life first, Hoon.”

Your younger sister giggled. “I give it a year before he proposes.”

Sunghoon laughed, winking at you. “We’ll see.”

That night, back in the apartment, Sunghoon pulled you close as you both lay in bed, exhaustion creeping in.

“We really did it,” you mumbled against his chest.

“We did,” he whispered back.

And as he kissed the top of your head, you realized that no matter what the future held, as long as Sunghoon was by your side, you’d be okay.

©️tobiosbbyghorl - all rights reserved

taglist: @iboughtnjz @rikidaze @pocketzlocket @jaerisdiction @ijustwannareadstuff20 @doririsstuff @whateveridontcarsheesh @rikifever @firstclassjaylee @jayhoonvroom @veilstqr

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts

[the-violet-galaxy]

Hmm... Y'know, now I'm thinking about all the ideas I've had for Nexus...

Cuz I've had so many thoughts for how his story could have gone differently! (Some of them I actually posted here a long time ago! And not all of them!)

It started back when the first Nexus arc was beginning, when Sun and Earth confronted New Moon, and he stormed out. Back then, I was worried about New Moon's place in the family, but was still going along with the story -- him having to eventually reckon with Earth no longer trusting him when he cleared his head and came back was very interesting! That never happened of course, but it's one example of something I wanted to see.

Then the arc got worse and I kept trying to think of ways the Show could salvage it. I still thought the Show must have SOMETHING up its sleeve. But then the arc ended, and it was just bad. So much potential with Nexus (AND Sun) was flushed down the drain.

And personally, I think one of the worst parts was that the Show's momentum slammed to a dead halt.

Dark Sun was just allowed to just GET AWAY with it; he didn't become the next big villain the Celestial Family fought, he got to live in a paradise and wasn't forced to pay for what he did, Nexus's narrative sacrifice didn't even LEAD to anything worthwhile like a new stage in the Show's story; everything about Dark Sun just vanished from the narrative, with a few cameos in later episodes.

The Wither stuff. The baby Wither Dragon, the Shards, Goliath, Sun's connection to Wither, it was all dropped. It's been close to a year now, and the answer to "what's Sun's connection to the Wither stuff?" is still "we'll get to that LATER."

And Sun... poor Sun. Sun's entire "thing" throughout this whole arc was that he "didn't take action," and Dark Sun had forced a situation to MAKE him "take action" to kill one of his brothers. But after that??? Sun doesn't do anything pragmatic afterwards. He doesn't "make another choice" that would make a change in his life or his universe or his family. He doesn't say: "Okay Dark Sun, you want me to make a choice? Huh? You want me to take action? Well I'm going to make the choice to chase you down, bust down your doors, and make you pay for what you did to me and my family" or "Wow, a lot of these other Suns DEFINITELY wanted to kill their Moons, true, but a lot of them were like me, who loved their Moons despite the abuse and wanted to give their Moons a chance and didn't want to see them hurt, and they were FORCED to kill their Moons against their will and are now devastated, and I think I have a responsibility to fix it" or "I'm going to use my Magic and possibly Star Power and my Connection To The Wither Energy That Nexus's Consciousness Is Still Attached To to FIND MY BROTHER AND SAVE HIS SOUL." No, he just goes back to being almost exactly how he was before, give or take a few weeks of angst episodes. He just waves it all goodbye and goes on with his life.

(And the Second Nexus arc........................ :/)

So honesty? I think I wanna make my own "Nexus AU", that uses all these ideas I've had and explores what I said above and a bunch of other things too... :O

[carryonafi]

hi my sweet baby angel— been thinkin about fonda!luke a lot recently… was wondering if you could write a little cute/smutty ‘i’m so fuckin proud of you’ blurb that takes place after his ono? do whatever you want with it, i know you’ll do great bby <3

only the brave.

luke hemmings x reader; SMUT!!!🔞

a/n: HELLO finally getting to some requests! starting with one from my dear souperbloom 😋 she’s already gotten a few little snippets but shh we don’t talk about that. ANYWAY here’s only the brave featuring fonda night 1 lukey pookie :3

words: 2.6k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Luke was always in his element when he performed, but it was always surrounded by the others that he shone. Knowing him, you would have never thought he could have done this on his own. Not that you didn’t have the faith, but it was how often he spoke about feeling alone when he wasn’t standing by his best friends.You were currently standing backstage with him, in the dressing room before his first ever solo show with a full house of guests and the next night hopefully bound to be a wonderful repeat due to the unexpected high demand of the first night.

“How do you feel?” You said softly, the room silent other than the outside noises of the crew moving around the pre-show playlist in the background.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Luke sighed, tipping his head back against the door, he did look sort of pale, but he usually seemed that way.

The look on his face softened a bit once you reached out to take his hands.

“You’ll be okay… do your vocal warmups. That helps doesn’t it?” A weak suggestion, but it was a thoughtful attempt that made Luke crack a smile.

“I dunno.” He admitted, his expression turning back to normal once he really started to think again. You could understand how he felt, knowing him for years and seeing how much stage anxiety he went through even with the others around.

“They’re gonna be watching too, y’know? All you have to do is look up at the balcony.” As much as you tried to make him feel better, you knew that nothing would truly ease him. The thought of looking up to see you and his best friends made him feel a little bit better for the moment, that was until a crew member shouted for call time. Luke’s face dropped again.

“You’re going to be amazing, okay? You always are.” You offered a weak smile, getting one back as Luke leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

He looked like he was about to say something in reply, but instead, he bit his tongue and took the encouragement instead of plaguing it with his doubts. “Thank you.” He said gratefully, leading you out of the dressing room and parting ways once he got to the wings and you left to join the crowd.

The lights went down and the last song on the playlist ended, you took a deep breath suddenly feeling anxious for Luke now as well — but as you said. He was always amazing.

Security walked you up to the balcony, a few stray fans at the back of the general admission floor whispered to themselves and happily waved as you walked by and made your way up to where the others were standing. Michael turned around as he felt your presence join them, giving you a look through the darkness.

“He’s okay?” He asked, seemingly responding to the anxiety taking over your entire expression.

“He should be, just nervous to be up there without you guys.” You gave him the simplest answer possible, knowing how it described the last hour or so of sitting in the dressing room and trying to talk Luke down from walking straight back out to the car… or throwing up. He was very close to both of those scenarios.

—

Just as you told him, all of that encouragement and gentle words to get his hopes up, he played a really good show and seemed to be feeling incredible by the end of it. You left the rest of Luke’s friends just at the end of the last song so you could meet him backstage, and it was the best decision you could’ve made. It was obvious that he needed to see you after that.

He picked up his head once he tossed his last pick into the crowd and headed backstage, a smile gracing his features illuminated by the few and far bright lights in the otherwise dark venue. It was too hard to resist the temptation to smile as well, rushing forward and throwing yourself into his arms.

“See, you did amazing!” You squealed happily against his shoulder, Luke’s heart was racing and you could feel it relax significantly as you stood there and held him for a moment. He breathed out a long sigh of relief, nearly tearing his in-ears out with one hand while the other snaked around your waist to hold you tight. He needed this. He needed nothing more than your arms enveloping his physical worries and making him feel like he just won the Olympics.

“Thank you… Thank you so much.” Luke whispered against your hair, pressing repeated kisses to the side of your head and not stopping even when you tilted your head to look at him. Instead he just went with it, kissing your face until he finally reached your lips. He teased a little, kissing the corner of your mouth which had you giggling and grabbing his cheeks so he couldn’t move. You planted an aggressively loving kiss to his lips, the sensation of his growing smile making it hard to hold it.

“I’m very proud of you, so fuckin’ proud of you, Luke.” You replied in that same tone he used earlier, a wider grin spreading across Luke’s face as he started to walk you backwards towards the dressing room again.

“Don’t think I could’ve done it without you.” He muttered like it was a secret, quickly pecking your lips once more with his hands splayed out on your back so you didn’t walk into anything.

“Bullshit.” You scrunched up your nose, Luke shook his head then turned you around.

“No, no. I definitely couldn’t have.” He played back despite your protest, leading you into the small room and closing the door.

You sat on one side of the small sofa while Luke shed himself of his gear and slipped off his suit jacket which left him in the matching brown vest, your eyes roamed, scanned each little part of his body. His wrists shoulder blades flexing as he tried to rid the exhaustion of performing which was mostly masked by adrenaline. Luke saw you in the mirror, smiling back at you as a simple wave of your hand gestured for him to come closer. He didn’t let a beat go by, he obeyed and slowly approached you.

“Wanna go back home, or sit and decompress for a while?” You asked, placing your legs in his lap and playing with his sweaty curls.

“Mm, decompress. Don’t wanna move.” He hummed, an arm curling under your thighs and pulling you closer to him. Even past the warmth and exertion, he needed to feel you. Your warmth.

The dressing room was quiet, peaceful as Luke came down and basked in his glory of a first solo performance. Usually, there would be some sort of music playing, 3 other guys messing around and celebrating yet another amazing night… but it was just Luke. You and Luke.

“I’m proud of you.” You repeated, catching Luke’s attention away from the loose thread in your outfit. His lips quirked into a crooked smile, the smile that made the high points of his cheeks glow with joy. He thought for a moment before nodding, gently squeezing your thigh.

“I’m proud of me, too.” Luke agreed, the glitter smeared across his eyelids had managed to spread on his face. You reached forward to brush some away, but he took this opportunity to catch your waiting lips in another soft kiss.

Your hand moved slowly on his cheek, fingertips catching the underside of his jaw and keeping him close for just a fleeting second more. Until your lips broke apart, it wasn’t known who did it, but all you knew was that Luke was leaning in for more. His lips were forced against yours again with much more, newfound fervor as his free arm hooked around your middle.

It was nearly silent from there on, just gentle kissing and featherlight touches which spoke more volume than any rough make out session, any bedroom session — the adrenaline pumping through Luke’s veins and the events of the night had him on a high.

“C’mere…” He murmured against your kiss-swollen lips, a pout on his own as he hoisted you into his lap and nearly forced you to straddle him.

“Really?” You teased, letting out a breathy laugh as Luke licked his lips and admired his own hands exploring your body. Slipping into the waistband of your bottoms and watching the goosebumps form on your skin at his warmth.

“We’ve never done this after a show before, please?” He pleaded, looking up at you through mascara coated eyelashes which pushed you to give into him.

“As long as you can make it quick.” You hushed in response, just as Luke’s hands disappeared under your skirt and delicately brushed the soft skin of your inner thighs. He nodded, slowly taking his hands off of you to unbutton those annoying, high waisted slacks that he had really been obsessed with. They were hard to shuffle down with you in his lap, so you decided to help him out by lifting your hips a little.

“Made it easy by wearing that..” Luke gave as an affectionate note, making it clear that the skirt was a good option— a great option.

“Easy access?” You grinned, his pupils dilating at the sight of your underwear slowly slipping down your legs and leaving the underneath to his imagination beneath the skirt, Luke hummed in agreement, his hands returning to spread themselves across your hips and bring you even closer. It was barely possible.

“You’re annoying.” He whispered, his eyes turning soft and desperate as your hips came into contact.

“What? How so?” You gasped, tone full of mirth as you witnessed Luke slowly losing control over being so close to you. Every single time, without fail he was always going to get to that breaking point of desperation and you loved it.

“You jus’ have to look so pretty all the time, it’s annoying — I gotta hold it all in.” Luke replied, moving forward to bury his face in your neck and leave needy, wet kisses on your skin. “Have t’ share you with everyone… they all look at you, baby.” He rambled into your neck, lips and tongue dragging over your skin in a soft haste to get to his favorite parts of you. Luke ended his trail of destruction with one gentle kiss to your chest, right above the center where he rested his curly little head in defeat. Defeat of falling victim to you.

“Don’t have to share me with anyone, silly boy.” You laughed, hands carding through his hair and massaging his dark roots. “I’m all yours.” You said gently, careful of Luke’s fragile mind where he often struggled.

However, you were caught off guard by the switch he took. Luke peeked his head up, pushing up into your hands like he was a puppy desperate for love, but slipped himself inside you in one flawless motion. It left you breathless, Luke beaming with satisfaction as you took him.

“All mine?” He breathed, ring-clad fingers tightening on your hips and indenting the flesh beneath his hands. All that came out of you was a weak sigh of pleasure, coaxing you to sink down further and devour inch by inch. Luke was waiting for an answer, so you nodded and hummed appreciatively which seemed to be more than enough for him. His hips slowly started to move, leaning back against the couch to watch the obscenity before him. Anyone could walk into this dressing room, anyone could see you perched on his lap and know within seconds what was going on under the fluff of your skirt. Just the sounds you were making with each caring and generous roll of his hips had him imagining the scenarios of someone hearing you. It was a low chance, but hell, was it daunting.

“So.. So goddamn proud.” You looked down at Luke, admiring how he had reached and let one button on his vest go to expose more of his chest.

“Uh huh, you’re proud?” He raised his eyebrows, the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing picked up driving you both just a little more crazy for each other.

The simplicity of your nod made Luke smile, knowing that he had taken your words away and left you so focused on the rhythm he had pumping in and out of you. But he was close too, losing control but not nearly as weak as you.

“Luke!” You gasped when his pace changed, he was now focused on chasing his own pleasure once he was secure in the fact that you would be finishing before him. This made it all come crashing down, little pulses and shocks through your nerves, thighs twitching as you clamped down hard and bit your knuckles to keep yourself quiet.

“Hey…” Luke breathed, taking your hand away from your mouth as your orgasm smoothly washed over you. “Don’t hurt my girl.” He gave you a crooked half-smile, his hips stuttering which told that he was there. Right there, letting out that deep groan and leaning forward to press his face against your collarbone as he pumped deep inside you, His curls tickled your neck, slicked with sweat from the activities within the humid dressing room.

It was about two minutes until you each didn’t feel like jello anymore, you felt a smile of post-orgasm bliss creeping up on you which turned into giggles.

“Fuckin’ love you so much.” You sighed dreamily, tangling a hand in Luke’s hair and gently coaxing him to look up at you. The glitter from his eyes was now on your neck, and somehow his nose— you examined his flushed face with care and graced a loving peck to his nose.

“Love you more.” Luke barely managed past his own smile, waiting a few more moments to spare the gentle touches and soft kisses from you. It felt like so long until he could finally get you home… but home was just half an hour away, more of those kisses in a much better environment were waiting for him. “This was a really great reward,” he mumbled, shy like some schoolboy.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, mindlessly fixing the buttons of his vest and watching as he returned to picking at some loose thread on your top. Luke nodded, giving you the loving eyes shielded by his impressively long eyelashes. “Imagine what kind of reward you’ll get when you finish a solo tour.”

“I can’t even begin.” Luke grinned back, hoisting you up from the couch once you were all situated and ready to face as many people as you possibly needed to. Hopefully not a lot, if Luke was counting right. Security, staff, driver…

“There’s fans waiting out back, wanna go see them?” You suggested, grasping Luke’s hand as you headed out of the venue and strides hastily through the backstage halls. You knew what Luke’s answer was going to be, the hesitance to go back and show his fans some appreciation would be the nice thing to do. However, tomorrow was another show. They could wait and have some hope for him until the next night.

“Nah, just wanna go home.” He admitted, blinking down at you in the dim light to adjust and focus clearly on your face. You were now also covered in his glitter, and it was truly a sight for him. One that he would be sad to wash off at home, but maybe there was more in it for him if he was extra gentle with your cleanser.

[dragongirlsweetie]

Regarding your sandwich post (as someone probably egging tf out)

Do you have advice on knowing whether you want to be a woman vs wanting to be intimate (platonic/romantic/sexual) with one?

Bc like I think 95% of my egging is just finding women hot, with the incorporated "idk why the fuck a woman would willingly chose to date a man these days"

Which honestly sounds pretty egg but idk.

well i have two things to say regarding this. first off my sandwich post is just some bullshit i wrote because i was eating a sandwich and had been awake for a grand total of 5 hours, 4 of them at work and another half hour driving to work. second is that if my bullshit meaningless sandwich post is making you question yourself this hard i'm guessing there's probably something to it

now you are on anon and i know next to nothing about you (aside from this ask) so i'm just gonna cover all my bases here: these are concerns i had a lot of in my eggy stages and ultimately i think that if you wanna try giving being a woman a shot, even if just in private with a few trusted friends, you should go ahead and do it. worst case scenario is you get an answer to your question. if you find the idea of being a woman or having people see you as one makes you a bit giddy and bring out some kind of longing ache in your chest that's another good sign. and if you are looking for permission to be a woman, as i really needed before my egg really cracked, then i am officially giving you permission. you are allowed to want to be a woman and you are allowed to be a woman

my final thought is that the lines between a desire for identity and a desire for intimacy can often be very blurry, and i myself often mistook my desire to be a woman as just me being attracted to them. ow that my egg has cracked i know now that the reason i felt that way is because i wanted to be like that too. and i know that there was never really a meaningful distinction between my desire for identity and my desire for intimacy, the two were just different manifestations of the same core feeling that i am not eloquent enough to describe

that last paragraph probably doesn't make a lot of sense right now, and if you transition in the future it might or it might not. we're all fucked in the head in different and beautiful ways. point is don't let yourself get caught up in wondering if what you're feeling is one or the other. take it as slow as you need to but give it a shot. like i said, worst case scenario you find out the answer to your question and can move on with your life. and while i don't know much about you, i do know that cishet men generally don't spend a lot of time wondering if their attraction to women could instead be a desire to be a woman, and they definitely don't get so caught up in those thoughts that a post about trans women staring hungrily at sandwiches would lead them to start asking around for answers. as the saying goes: don't die wondering

sorry i rambled quite a bit there, but i hope i was able to give you the push in the right direction that my younger self desperately needed, or at the very least helped you find an answer to something that was bothering you. and i also don't really know how to end this. uhh byebye! good luck!

[smiling-laughing-hating]

summary: it seems like the fans can't get enough of Huntrix and saja boys

====

Rumi doesn't even know how they got in such a situation, wearing kids clothes with none other than the sana boys

Scratch that actually she knows exactly how they got here it seems the fans loved seeing the so called ships

"They're not even that attractive they are more like eugh"

"Yea more like bleghhh"

Zoey was giggling beside the two girls making absurd sounds, what was she doing? She was strugglfdking with her bow tie

"These clothes are so cutieee, but you would think they would be easier to wear t it the are kids inspired..."

She smiles thinking that she finally got it only for the bow to turn crooked, she pouts well it turns out she wasn't exactly pouting to herself as a very handsome guy walked over to her she looks up Confused only to smile sheepishly

'Damn your symmetrical face mystery' she thought to herself She tilts her head at him and he ignore the question and ties her bow so effortlessly it's kinda embarrassing "oh" she deadpans at the perfect tie and if you would ask mystery what he saw well

'Her face light up so brightly she may as well be the sun'

"Thank yo-" he didn't exactly give her a chance to thank him before he left

"Zoey! Come on the games will start!"

==

The host that was all too happy to have both the sana boys and the Huntrix introduced the next game

"The rabbit an the wolf!"

???

"We will spin the wheel and have a member of Hunterix be a rabbit their objective is to run around this 5 km field three times before a wolf from the saja boys catch them! To the wheel"

Oh boy....this is going to be...interesting

The wheel span and span and span annddd landed on

"Rumi and jinu!" Rumi grimaced and huffed while jinu couldn't look more amused

Rumi stood a few feet away from jinu on the field, waiting for the start mark

"seems like i have to Catch you, let's see if those trains-pants indicate your speed?"

Rumi glared at him "oh i love running"

"The same way you run away from the truth?" He whispered

Rumi was about to answer him but the host was already counting down , bastard

"Ok! Lets see who is the fastest the bunny or the wolf?? 3! 2! 1! GO!"

and so the race begun and Rumi was successfully running as fast as she can and from the look of it jinu can't keep up

"Go Rumi!"

"YEA beat his Butt!"

While mira was having her triumph two shoulders pressed against hers

"Go jinu! Show them the honest wolf!" Abby cheered raising his very muscular arms honestly they looked funky under all that children clothes

On her other side was Romance clapping for jinu but his eyes were obviously too busy looking at Mira "what're u staring at?? I swear if we weren't in public i would have gouged those eyes out" she whispered and glare at him

"Go ahead all they're useful for is looking at your beauty my dear"

That didn't soften the blow of her feet to his toes, but he couldn't exactly scream that would bring too much attention...tensing and sitting was all he could do...well he was still beside her atleast

Anyways while Rumi was in the lead that was only in the beginning as this is now the last round but jinu only seemed to speed up

'damn his demonic stamina'

"Y'know this would be easier if you gave up now"

The voice was too close for comfort

"Will the wolf catch up to the bunny??? Go bunny speed up!"

atleast the host was having fun...

Atlast...jinu was too fast

"AND THE BUNNY IS CAUGHT THE WOLF GOBBLED HER UPPPPPP!"

"Woof woof" he winks

===

"And that was it today for our show do our stars have any last words?"

"We just want to stay that today was and amazing day and that it was an honour to sure the stage once more with The Hunterix"

He then procceed to clap alongside the rest of the members

"No no truly it was ours" they clapped too aggressively

The curtains proceed to fall and as always the saja boys are gone with tge wind...well on their feet except for baby who is being carried as compensation for all he had to endure from their crap all day

"You guys are down bad yuck..."

===

I am sorry this kinda sucks i didn't know how to end it T-T

[merrybloomwrites]

When The Wolves Come Out (Chapter 11)

Story Summary: When Y/N gets hired to play drums for One Direction, the last thing she expects is to find herself as part of their pack. Especially since it seems that they don’t want her there. Only time will tell if they’ll accept her, or if the omega will have to deal with rejection from the others.

Chapter Summary: The post concert incident leads to a situation you never saw coming.

Word Count: 2.1K

CW/tags: omega verse, omega reader, alpha Harry, alpha Zayn, alpha Louis, beta Niall, beta Liam, poly, omega drop

Previous chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

AN: Thought of another twist and couldn’t resist adding it. Sorry 🙃

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

Two hours.

That’s how long you remain in the drop. Two long hours, during which you’re unaware of what’s happening around you.

After placing you carefully in Zayn’s arms, Louis distances himself, leaving the back room and heading to the small kitchenette in the front of the bus so that his current emotions won’t negatively affect you. He trusts Harry and Zayn to remain calm and take care of you. Niall stays with you as well.

It’s Liam who follows the alpha, wondering what’s wrong, unaware of what happened.

“Lou,” the beta says cautiously. “What’s going on?”

“There was an alpha,” Louis growls. “Cornered her. Made advances. I could feel her fear. And he just- He wouldn’t let her go.”

“But you got there in time?”

“Yes.”

“And then she dropped?”

“No.”

“Louis-”

“The fans. The people who say they love us. They were out there shouting horrible comments at her. Calling her all sorts of horrible things. I don’t understand how they could be so cruel. It was all just too much. Y/N dropped right before we got on the bus. I stayed calm but I am enraged. I want to go back out there and rip that alphas throat out. And. Well obviously I don’t want to hurt the fans. But it would feel nice to yell at them. Tell them how hurtful they were being.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, processing the situation while Louis continues to pace and wear out his angry energy. Finally, the alpha flops onto a chair, letting out a loud sigh.

“I want to keep her safe,” he says softy.

“You did. You did everything you could. Got her away from the alpha. Got her back to the bus. There’s not much any of us can do about unruly fans. Think we figured that out a while ago,” Liam says.

“I know. I got used to whatever they threw at us. But I hate it being directed at her. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s being called names because of us. It’s not right.”

Slowly, carefully, Liam kneels on the ground next to Louis. The older man places a hand on the other's neck, a position that brings them both comfort. For the alpha, it’s a safe way to express dominance, allowing Louis to gain a sense of control. The beta finds it comforting, his alpha accepting and caring for him.

They stay that way until Niall walks in and says, “Lou, the others are asking for you.”

“Y/N’s up?” Louis asks, his voice hopeful.

“Sorry, no. Not yet. Zayn and Harry want to talk to you,” Niall answers.

With a nod and one final squeeze to the beta, Louis gets up. Niall stops him as he passes, pulling him in for a quick reassuring kiss. It soothes the alpha enough that he’s calm when he gets back to you.

Harry has you in his lap now, and Zayn is rubbing his wrist against yours, using the glands there to help douse you in his scent.

The two men look up as Louis enters, and he asks, “How is she?”

“Calm,” Harry answers. “She was a little restless at first but she’s better now. I think she’s past the fear and into the resting and refreshing stage of the drop.”

“Good. That’s good. Niall said that you wanted to talk to me?”

“We’re worried,” Zayn states. “This isn’t good for her health. Mental or physical.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?” Harry asks.

“That I don’t know,” Louis replies. “Let’s just finish the last couple of shows. Maybe during the break she can see a doctor, talk to a therapist, figure out if there’s anything that can help her handle this type of career.”

“You think going to a doctor is going to help stop alphas being creeps and fans being rude?” Zayn asks, a touch of accusation in his voice.

“No of course not! We can’t control the actions of other people, but we can increase security to keep her safe.”

They sit in silence and Louis quietly adds. “We’ll figure this out. It might take some work, but, we’ll just, we’ll figure it out.”

He wishes he could explain it better, but honestly he’s exhausted. It’s the middle of the night, he’s stressed and tired, the bus is moving in a rocking motion that makes him just want to lay down and sleep. But he can’t. Not until you come up and he’s sure you’re okay.

A few minutes later you breathe a deep sigh, so different from the even breaths of the last two hours that they all turn to watch you. Slowly you begin to shift until finally your eyes open.

“Hey there,” Zayn says. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. What time is it?”

“Early morning, nearly 2,” Harry replies.

“Great. I’m going to sleep,” you state.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted,” Louis says. “Should we all lay down here?”

“No, I’m going to my bunk,” you reply, confusing the others. They honestly can’t remember the last time you slept in your bunk, always back here with at least one other pack member. But they don’t stop you, letting you stand, reaching out just in case you’re a little unsteady. You ignore the arms outstretched towards you and head to the bathroom before crawling into your bunk.

You don’t sleep, instead laying there and listening to the others all make their way to their own bunks. Your mind is busy, swirling with thoughts of what happened earlier and the conversation you had overheard as you came up from your drop.

What had happened after the concert was bad enough. But the alphas thinking you need medical attention? Therapy?

So they do think you’re weak. That something is wrong with you. And they’re probably right. You love performing, but you have to admit, there are other ways to live. Ones that won’t leave you drained, constantly running on empty. Maybe it’s time for a career change.

You’re sure the boys would support you; they care about you and your health. It might take some extra planning, but it could probably work.

With a potential solution in mind you feel better. There are only a few days left of the tour. You can make it through that and then figure things out from there.

You eventually fall asleep thinking that everything will be okay.

You’re less sure of that when you wake up to an email telling you that you’ll be meeting with Simon Cowell. Face to face, one on one. It’ll be the first time you’re meeting him like this since your first day on the job months ago. This time you truly have no idea what to expect.

When the boys ask where you are going you reply, “To a meeting.” And when they ask for details you just say, “Not sure. Probably a performance review or discussion of my contract since the tour is ending.”

You leave the bus and enter the car that’s waiting for you. Thankfully Paul is driving you, so you have a friendly face. It’s a short drive and soon you arrive at an office building. Following the instructions you’ve been given, you make your way inside and upstairs.

It’s weird sitting across a desk from Simon again. The energy is not good, and your anxiety starts to rise.

“I’m going to say something that I don’t often say,” he begins. You don’t answer, instead watching him expectantly.

“I made a mistake. I thought bringing you in would be a help to the boys. But unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be happening.”

Now you’re confused.

“But it has been good for them. They’ve learned how to care for an omega, care about me. They’ve really opened up and I’ve seen them grow.”

“And that’s all well and good. But unfortunately, adding you to the band, and to the pack, will be a detriment to their careers.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ratings are suffering. People are leaving the fandom. With you there, they no longer get to imagine it will be them that’s chosen to be the final piece of One Direction. The boys are no longer desirable. You are hurting their career. Everything they’ve worked towards.”

It knocks the air out of you. Because it makes sense. The fans were angry last night. They hate you. Having you there is dragging the boys down.

And who are you to wreck the empire they’ve spent years creating? How selfish would you be if you let your feelings destroy all the time and energy they’ve put into this band?

“You understand, don’t you?”

“I do,” you reply in a quiet voice.

“So you understand why I'm not offering you a new contract after this one ends on Friday?”

“Yes.”

“And why it would be in everyone’s best interest if you broke off your relationship?”

Finding it hard now to breathe, you just nod yes to show you understand.

“I know this will be difficult, but it’s the right choice. Here is your new flight information. You’ll be traveling back to New Jersey on Saturday morning. Your belongings will be shipped to you. Do you need us to arrange a car home from the airport?”

“No. I’ll call someone.”

“Excellent. Contact Ryan if you have any questions about the logistics.”

You nod once again.

“Y/N, it has been a pleasure working with you. Truly, you are a very talented drummer. If you ever need a reference for a new job please reach out and we will happily recommend you.”

“Thank you,” you hear yourself say.

In a daze you make your way back to the car.

“Is there any way I can stop at a cafe or something? I could use a little time before going back to the bus,” you ask Paul.

“Of course. There’s one a couple blocks away,” he says and begins driving. Once there he comes in with you, but gives you space, just remaining nearby to keep an eye on you.

On auto pilot, you order a coffee and find a seat in a back corner, needing some time alone to think through everything. One thing is for sure. You will do anything to protect the boys. You want them to be happy and successful. As painful as it will be, you know that leaving is the best choice.

But you can’t do a goodbye. Maybe that’s selfish, but you know they’ll fight you on this decision. That they’ll beg you to stay. And that will just hurt you more.

You pull out the notebook and pen you always keep in your bag and begin to write. A letter may never truly capture everything you want to say to them, but this is the best you can think to do. When you finish writing you somehow feel better, and also one hundred times worse. Reality sinks in. You’re leaving. In just a few days, you’ll separate from them for good.

But you still have a few days. And no one is stopping you from enjoying them, soaking in the last bit of time you have. So you put a smile on your face and head over to Paul, asking him to take you back to the bus.

Of course, the next few days fly by. The concerts are amazing, and you mourn the fact that you won’t be performing again. At least, not for a while. You have no idea when you’ll get to be back on stage, if ever. And that’s just another reason why this whole situation sucks.

There’s a party after the final show, and you lower your inhibitions, dancing the night away with the boys. Back at the hotel you all pile in bed, exchanging heated kisses. If things were different, this would be the night you’d go all the way with them.

But you can’t do that. Not to them, since you’d feel like you were using them. And not to yourself. You can’t open yourself up, experience what it’d be like to truly connect with them, only to leave them the next day. Better not to know what you’re missing out on.

You barely sleep, not wanting to miss a moment of the little time you have left. You sneak items from each of them into your bag, knowing you’ll want their scents around for at least a little while to ease the pain.

All too soon, the sun starts to rise and it’s time for you to leave. Carefully, so gently as to not wake anyone, you lean and press a kiss to each of them. Before you can even comprehend what this means, you quickly grab your bags and force yourself out of the room, leaving behind the people you love, and the future you thought you had.

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

AN: Honestly, who wrote this angst, because I didn’t even know I could write angst but this just flowed out in about 2 hours total

taglist: @luxiorchive

[jgroffdaily]

In Broadway bio-musical "Just in Time," Jonathan Groff is a-splishin' and a-splashin' eight shows a week as chameleonic crooner Bobby Darin.

And frankly, you couldn't ask for a better steward of his legacy. On a recent Zoom call from his dressing room, where he keeps a picture of Darin and Liza Minnelli, the affable actor lights up as he expounds on his favorite deep cuts ("I Am") and performances ("The Judy Garland Show") from the "Beyond the Sea" heartthrob.

"Wow, I'm really nerding out right now," Groff says, grinning. "He was such a special performer. I mean, Lucille Ball used to play canasta with her sister and put 'Darin at the Copa' on repeat. There's a video of him singing 'If I Were a Carpenter' with Stevie Wonder on YouTube, and they're going back and forth. He could hold his own with every great entertainer."

Groff, 40, is Tony-nominated once again this season for best leading actor in a musical, after winning the award last year for Maria Friedman's heart-rending revival of Stephen Sondheim's "Merrily We Roll Along." "Just in Time" is similarly emotional as it recounts the too-short career of Darin who, after a lifetime of health issues, died of heart failure in 1973 at only 37.

But the musical is also an infectious showcase of Groff's megawatt charm. He conceived of the production eight years ago with director Alex Timbers and producer Ted Chapin. It's performed in the round at the intimate Circle in the Square Theatre, which has been transformed into a swank nightclub with two separate stages and table seating. Groff begins the show as himself, chatting and dancing with theatergoers as he steps back in time to tell Darin's story.

"The cabaret tables, and me starting as myself, isn't just a gimmick," Groff says. "It feels like an essential way to celebrate the energy and spirit of who he was as a performer."

Groff is beloved by Broadway fans from "Hamilton" and "Spring Awakening," although this is his first time developing a musical from the ground floor. "Jonathan has thought about the show in its totality – his performance, but also the writing and design and choreography," Timbers says. "He's a storyteller that cares about how every element contributes to the clarity of the narrative."

We spoke with Groff about "Just in Time," his career so far and what's next:

Question: Bobby Darin covered many musical theater standards and always wanted to star on Broadway. How does it feel to get to realize that dream for him?

Answer: It feels so special. His son, Dodd Darin, wrote me a beautiful letter saying, “Thank you for keeping my dad’s story alive.” Bobby Darin was so prolific and so ahead of his time. Before “Cowboy Carter" was genre-swapping, he was gaining fame and then immediately genre-swapping. Even for me, I knew “Splish Splash,” “Mack the Knife” and “If I Were a Carpenter.” But I didn’t know they were all sung by the same person, or that he wrote “Dream Lover” and “Simple Song of Freedom.” So I feel really proud to be sharing his artistry with the world again in this way.

There's a quote that's widely attributed to Bobby: "You only die once. You live lots of times if you know how." Looking at your own career, how do you feel that you've managed to shape-shift and evolve?

Every new project feels like a different life. I feel so lucky that last year, I was doing “Merrily We Roll Along,” which was a huge dream. Meanwhile, we had been trying to make the Bobby Darin show for eight years, and we did this final gesture of a workshop while we were doing “Merrily.” The gift of being able to come right back to Broadway in such extremely different projects has felt like living two lifetimes. I’ve always dreamt of being on Broadway ever since I was a kid, so to have as many creative experiences as I’ve had in my last 20 years of being an actor, I really feel deep gratitude.

And what has stayed the same? When you think back to the little boy in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, who dressed up as Dorothy in his dad's barn, what has been the through line ever since?

Isaac Oliver wrote me this line where I get to say, “I was twirling in my mother's heels in Amish Country, Pennsylvania.” A thing that has changed is 20 years ago, it was a lot of closeted men playing straight on Broadway. But at the top of this musical, I really get to own who I am as a gay guy. I get to declare exactly who I am, and then take them on the journey of this playboy crooner, who in many ways, was the polar opposite of me. I’m just incredibly grateful to live in a time where I can own that shift live in front of the audience.

The thing that’s stayed the same is that every show is like the middle-school play or performing in my dad’s barn. This is why I relate the most to theater and why I always go back. There’s something primal about the lights going down in a space, and there’s an audience and the performers on stage and the simplicity of telling a story. It’s just my favorite thing in the world.

Was there a moment that really put time into perspective for you, or showed you how valuable life is?

My grandfather died on my 10th birthday. I remember the night before that, we had a birthday party and the whole family came over; all the grandparents and cousins were there. I got VHS tapes of “I Love Lucy,” because I was obsessed with “I Love Lucy.” I blew my candles out, went into the living room, and just sat in front of the TV watching these episodes on repeat. The next day, we got the call that my grandfather died, and my 10-year-old self was wracked with guilt and regret about the fact that I didn’t even say goodbye to him when he left. I was so glued to “I Love Lucy.”

I then became really superstitious about saying goodbye to my dad whenever he would leave to go to work. I would stand in the window and wave as the truck went away in the distance. But that was the first time death really landed for me. I remember seeing him in his coffin and comprehending at 10 that he's not going to wake up.

So what do you hope this next decade looks like for you?

I turned 40 this year, and I had a revelation when I was blowing out my birthday candles: No more wishes, just thank you. Even with the marathon that is opening a Broadway show and then doing a Tony campaign, I don’t feel worried like I used to. By the time you’re 40, you’ve sort of learned who you are and what you need. I’ve found my tribe of people that I love, which makes the whole experience less stressful.

Back in 2007, you said you were so happy doing "Spring Awakening" that you couldn't imagine leaving it. Is it rare to find projects that give you that feeling?

I remember the week of doing my huge, epic fight scene with Keanu Reeves in “The Matrix Resurrections.” I had been training for so long, and we shot it over the course of five days. But I remember standing in the shower in Berlin on a Tuesday, like, “OK, by the time I get to Friday, I will have done it. I will have fought Neo. I can breathe and relax and go out to these clubs.” And then I remember thinking, “No, Groff, don’t wish this time away! Try and enjoy the stress and intensity of this moment. Don’t just fast forward to Friday – that’s not a way I want to live.”

So there are jobs where the end will come and I’ll feel a sense of relief. Not with "Just in Time." I love it so much. I can’t even think about leaving right now; I’m dangerously into it. My friend came to see the show last night and he was like, “Jonathan, I just have this feeling you’re so happy up there, that whenever you leave this, there’s going to be some postpartum.”

I thought that was going to happen with “Merrily” and it didn’t, because we had a real, complete experience. So maybe when I get to the end of this, it’ll feel like a complete experience and I’ll be ready to let go. But right now, I’m Gollum.