#Was really just navigating on vibes for months here.

[itmeblog]

*borrows a cozy romantasy book*

*is immediately dismayed by how much it romances and how little it cozies*

I just want low stakes fantasy... *and* now that I've finally put it into words, it just occurred to me that that exists outside the romance category. IM FREE!

[crescenthistory]

heyyyy I’m just so in love with how you write Barty so I wanted to do two request if that’s okay! B6 and D8 (if it is with the series you already making even better!) and I love your writing I so much🤍🤍

hi lovie, thank you for your support<3 i've already written for both of these prompts, so i kinda reworked this, but kept the general vibe of sleepiness and fluff and the dynamic

Words: 2k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, remus pov near the full moon so joint aches and lots of anxiety, breaking curfew, I Need Everyone Near Where I Can Protect Them mindset, some minor suggestive quips, background wolfstar, just fluff really

Note: part of the grumpy!reader universe, set after the reveal to friends in and what about it?, but can be read as a stand alone drabble<3

The nearer the full moon crept, the deeper Remus’ protectiveness seemed to root itself into his heart, spreading out into his bloodstream. A wolfish instinct, if you could call it that, to keep his pack close. If his friends were out of his line of sight or, even worse, out of reach for his smell, anxiety burst through Remus’ body until he was left jittery and dizzy. 

That left him in the Gryffindor common room, a good 20 minutes after curfew on a Thursday evening, leg bouncing restlessly as he watched the portrait hole with hollow eyes. 

Sirius beside him had a hand on his knee, originally intended to quell its tremor, and once he realised that would not happen, it remained there as a support. The black haired boy seemed largely unbothered by everything, but the tension in his body betrayed him – though Remus was growing suspicious he was worried about something entirely different than he was. Namely, about him.

Across from them, James was draped over a grandfather chair, head repeatedly falling as he nodded off before he jerked himself back awake.

“How much longer are we going to stay here, Moons?” he managed to get out in between yawns, already worn out from quidditch practice earlier.

“Until our friend is safe in bed.” Remus squared his shoulders haughtily, leaving no room for argument. Then, “Where is she?” he muttered to himself, so quietly Sirius only barely caught it and had to fight back his sympathetic coo.

“Y/N is fine, baby,” he whispered, the hand on his knee shaking it slightly. “It’s not the first time she’s staying out late. Hells, we do it all the time, too!”

And Remus knew that. Of course he knew that. Every other time of the month, that knowledge would have allowed him to shake his head fondly at your antics, heading off to bed excited to hear about your adventures tomorrow.

Alas; this was not any other time of the month.

“I should go find her,” Remus thought out loud, groaning as he got up from his seat too quickly and his joints gave various sounds of complaint.

“Moony, there is no need–” Sirius started before cutting himself off, apparently thinking better. “My love, if there is anyone who can navigate Hogwarts after dark, it is that minx. The shadows would be scared off by her glare alone. And she won’t appreciate your interruption of whatever she is off doing now.”

“Or who,” James whispered through his sleepiness, horror seeping into his voice.

Sirius’ groan at the thought mirrored him. “Merlin’s beard, yeah, she’s probably off with Junior.”

“I don’t think I will ever get used to hearing that.” James righted himself slightly in his chair, dragging his hands up and down his face, failing at ridding it of sleep.

Remus, still standing, turned his hands outward in a dejected position. His friends’ derailing seemed to be of little notice to him. “But we don’t know. I need to know.”

“Rem,” Sirius whispered in that unbearably soft voice Remus thought himself the luckiest boy in the world to have directed at him. He got up from his seat, hands settling on Remus’ waist, both for comfort and for steading him, he suspected. “She is alright. She always is. And, whether I quite like it or not, if she is with Junior, she is double-y safe. If nothing else, that maniac is protective.”

Remus nodded, allowing himself some comfort as he gazed into Sirius’ silver eyes. “Yeah, she is, I know she is.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at Sirius’ lips. “But?”

“But I’m going to go get her.” Remus’ heart clenched a little in humiliation at how deep the wolf’s streak ran in him in these days, but he also would not let any discomfort get in the way of having his whole pack at home in their nests, where they belong. You can continue your adventures tomorrow.

“Yeah, I know you are,” Sirius relented, pulling Remus into a quick, squeezing hug to ground him. “I’ll go get the map and the cloak and we’ll go.”

Before Sirius could finish his sentence, Remus had accio’d both into his hands.

“No, that’s alright, I’ll go myself.” When Sirius looked like he was about to argue, Remus waved his wand a little in his face as if to say down boy. “As Head Boy, I can get away easier with being out past curfew – you on the other hand, would be shackled up in Flich’s basement before you could get a word out.”

“I have been out past curfew without being caught before, Moons,” Sirius guffawed in true Sirius-offence. 

“Not when picking up one of your best friends from nighttime adventures with one of your least favourite people.” Despite his anxiety and tire, Remus shot Sirius a wink and a small grin that told him I know you, Pads.

Sirius sat back down on the sofa with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly. “Be quick, or I’ll be the grumbly wolf.”

Remus bent down – biting back a small groan as his hip objected – and pressed a wet smooch to Sirius’ forehead and ruffled his hair. “You already are, love.”

When Remus walked towards the portrait hole, map and cloak in hand, he passed a snoring James with his mouth agape. He had a creeping sensation that by the time he came back, Sirius would have woken the poor boy by poking his finger into his mouth.

Cloak around him for extra measure, Remus silently slid down the halls of Hogwarts, fumbling the map open to find you. Just as suspected, a small Y/N L/N was in the astronomy tower with a certain Bartemius Crouch Junior, foot steps almost on top of each other.

He almost cursed his friend for choosing her romantic get-away spot at the top of such an awful amount of stairs before he remembered the spell you had crafted for him with Madam Pomfrey just a few weeks back. You had dedicated your free time to inventing solutions for Remus’ different aches – “what’s the point of magic if not to make your life easier, Moons?” – and while this one was still a work in progress, it allowed the field of gravity around his legs to be lifted enough to take some of the pressure off his poor joints. It worked way better than the countless amounts of times James and Sirius had tried to wingardium leviosa him to class.

As he neared the door that your names were sheltered behind on the map, Remus’ nose was appeased as your familiar scent once more flooded him. Barty’s too, for that matter, and though that was a less welcoming one, Remus had come to find he didn’t much mind it either. 

However, he did not hear voices, which puzzled him. Nor any other sounds that perhaps would have had him turning around.

With a careful hand, Remus opened the creaking door to the very top of the astronomy tower, peaking his tawny curls through the opening and trying to behave as a normal concerned friend and not an anxious, possessive wolf.

“Lupin; to what do we owe the displeasure?”

The voice had all of its usual crass wittiness, but an eight of its usual volume. In the wide windowsill across from Remus, the one that had a view of most of Hogwarts’ grounds, sat Barty propped up with a few pillows and you, sleeping soundly on his chest. 

One arm was held protectively around you, his free hand carding gently through your hair. Your face was slightly smushed against his chest, breathing soft and steady.

Remus doubted he had ever seen you look so serene. It almost made him feel bad for interrupting. Almost.

“Good evening to you too, Junior,” he whispered, as he slowly made his way through the room and over to your sleeping form. He swore he could see Barty tighten his grip on you.

“Should a Head Boy be breaking curfew like this? What would good old Albus say?” 

“Well, when a member of his house doesn’t come home at night, I believe it is a Head Boy’s duty to come fetch them.” Remus tried to seem unbothered, not wanting Barty to know just how anxious he gets when his friends are apart. “Albus would certainly approve.”

Barty hummed, looking from him and down at you. The soft smile that played over his lips did not escape Remus. “I would argue she is home.” Barty’s voice was teasing, but it felt quite real for Remus.

“Is that where your relationship is at now?” There was no teasing in Remus’ voice, just soft curiosity. Support, even, though he could never tell Sirius that.

Barty’s eyes flickered up from you again, facing becoming a bit more stoney as he realised his own sleepiness was making him a tad more soft than he wanted to be in front of the Gryffindor.

“Whatever. Well, as you can see, she’s safe. So you can sod off again.”

“She should come back to the dormitories, Junior. I’m sure she wasn’t planning on spending the night sleeping in a stony windowsill, that can’t possibly be comfortable at length.” 

“Firstly, she is mostly sleeping on top of me right now and I’ll have you know I am super comfortable,” Barty quipped, eyeing Remus. “Secondly,–” a breath “– no, she wasn’t planning on sleeping here, but she did fall asleep. So.”

Remus nodded slowly as he read between the lines, trying to fight his small smile at Barty’s expense – he was sure he would not have appreciated it. “You don’t have the heart to wake her.”

Barty scoffed, but his eyes betrayed him. He was caught. “I don’t have a heart period, Lupin.”

“But?” Remus asked, amusement lining his voice in a way he realised mirrored how Sirius spoke to him earlier. Knowingly, affectionately. 

“But look at her, Lupin. I can’t wake her.” While speaking, Barty seemed to gesture towards your sleeping form with the nod of his jaw, refusing to move his hands from where they were drawing circles on your back and playing with your hair.

Remus hummed in agreement, smile officially bursting free of his hold.

“Oh, sodder off,” Barty grumbled as he saw Remus’ expression, but there seemed to be little to no malice in his voice.

“Sorry, sorry,” Remus laughed softly, careful not to wake you with their conversation. “Just… this was not what I expected to happen three years ago when James confessed his feelings for Regulus to me.”

Barty seemed to scowl at the thought of his best friend and his Gryffindor. ���They’re disgusting.”

“Yeah,” Remus said fondly. “And so are you two. Ain’t it great?” 

Barty grumbled, hand in your hair stilling to hold the back of your head. “I’m still not waking her up for you.”

“No need. If you’re careful with shifting her, you could carry her back to the dorms with me.”

“You want me to carry her all the way to Gryffindor?” Barty asked incredulously, looking at Remus as if he was stupid. “I appreciate you noticing my spectacular biceps, but that’s just not happening.”

Remus’ eyes twinkled. “Actually, I’ve got just the spell to make it easier for you.”

And so, Barty carefully shuffled you in his arms while Remus had his wand aimed at the both of you, helping ease the gravity off your form so that it would both be easier for Barty to carry you and for you to continue sleeping.

When you were bridal style in his arms, you shifted a little, burying your face further into his neck. “Sorry, Treasure,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline.

“Fuck off, Junior, let me sleep,” you whined, growing comfortable and tired once more. Remus had to fight not to laugh loudly.

“It’s not my fault, the cops showed up to end our fun.” Barty looked at Remus conspiratorially, who only rolled his eyes in return, as he led the way back to Gryffindor. 

“Stop saying stupid things and let me sleep, baby.” Your voice was already drifting off once more and Barty grinned widely at your slurred words.

“Yes, ma’am.”

It amazed Remus how much this boy loved being insulted by you. Your perfect match, evidently.

As you drifted back to sleep, and the closer your little trio got to the common room where his partner and best friend were waiting, the more Remus’ nerves seemed to settle. Everyone is where they should be.

[lollytea]

Please, your finale Huntlow thoughts, my liege. We poor peasants beg of you, our bowls are empty and your tables full; if we might have but a crumb of your succulent meal to fill our bellies in these cold December nights.

ASGCDHBDJNK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OKAY

I got a few asks about this but I guess I'll answer this one cuz it's phrased the funniest. I just wasn't too pressed about giving my Thoughts about finale Huntlow because I am fully a part of the Huntlow hivemind. Like I feel the way everyone else feels. I'm ecstatic, I'm delighted, I'm overwhelmed, I'm emotional, I'm so happy for them, I got everything I could have wanted. I won. We won.

(I HAVE TOO MANY PICS. I'LL RB WITH PART 2)

First of all this scene is so special to me, you have no idea.

It isn't inherently romantic but it's still so sweet and shows how much these two care for each other. Here's Willow, who's spent the last special Atlasing and repressing and refusing to rely on anyone else. But then she had her breakdown in front of Hunter and he realized just how stressed and scared she's been this whole time. She's visibly anxious and upset here, likely worrying up a storm because she hasn't found her Dads yet. And Hunter is right here beside her. He's seen her meltdown, he's felt her pain, he's heard her cry. He knows that Willow is in a fragile state at the moment. He knows she's been holding in a lot. He knows she's scared. I love that he's not only standing by her side and helping her search, but holding her too. It could be that she vocally expressed how worried she was to him, or maybe he just saw it on her face, but he probably placed that hand on her back to comfort her, let her knows he's right here, grounding her. And Willow, who's still learning how to depend on others, is letting him.

The way Hunter lights up when he sees Harvey and Gilbert, thrilled by how happy he knows she's going to be and his soft smile when he points them out to her. And then THIS!

Like Hunter is devastated. He feels alone and out of place here. He really thinks he has nobody. But Willow being happy can still bring a smile to his face. He just loves her so much!!!

And I know I already talked about the grom photo but UGHH!!!

I got a pic in better definition. I'm pretty sure this is Hunter's first grom. So likely a few months after the events of WAD. And it's so cute to think about Hunter and Willow very awkwardly but eagerly navigating a romantic relationship. I love how grabby and flirty Willow looks here, messing with his bowtie. She clearly LOVES the floral suit, thinking he's like the hottest man alive. She needs to smooch him and NOW. Or she's just like "Oh my, what a nice collarbone you have!!" Idk the ambiguity of what exactly Willow is doing here but the vibe and general intentions being very obvious is my favourite part of this pic. You can speculate for years on this. Oh and Hunter's face, I love it so much. His dumb little blush is like an old friend. He's fucking THRILLED that he's getting so much attention from her. He's very excited about where this is going. But he's also like. So nervous he's gonna pass out. But overall he's having the time of his life. Bi rights!

Also epilogue Huntlow....guys....guys epilogue Huntlow....are you guys still listening to me at this point?

God I love this scene. Its so natural and smooth, giving the characters a chance to breathe and exist and providing a glimpse of how they go about their daily lives. It's soft and lighthearted but it establishes so much about where Willow and Hunter are currently at in their relationship. They've been dating for like....3 years at the very least. And they're clearly very happy together!!

The way Willow casually slides on to the scene, giving the impression that she's often dropped in on him while he's working. And why wouldn't she? That's her sweetheart. What if she requires emergency smooches? What then? And of course, there's Hunter beaming at the sight of her. Seems he never gets tired of his girlfriend stopping by to visit. Or maybe he's sick to death of Willow the menace showing up to distract him while he's trying to work and he's just excited about the prospect of Luz's party. Either way, it's an adorable expression.

Something else I love about epilogue Huntlow is how equally distributed the affection is between both of them. Back when FTF dropped I gushed about how sweet it was to see Hunter taking initiative with Willow and the significance of something as simple pressing his backhand against hers during the pinky hold. And God, this sequence here says it all. From what I can tell, as Hunter runs towards her, they both reached out at the same time and linked hands immediately, implying that holding hands has become the automatic gesture for them whenever they meet up. They're in love, you're honor.

I love the huge carefree grins as they skate down the hill (still holding hands). They might have grown a lot since we last saw them but they're still young adults, they still love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff. And even better, they love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff together. All the handholding and fluffy cuteness is wonderful but I also love knowing that they seem to genuinely enjoy just hanging out and spending their youth with each other. Zeno was right, they ARE besties. Who knows how much shit Hunter and Willow get up to together? Being a pair of thrill seeking athletes, it's probably a lot.

This part is just so silly and ridiculous. After they go stumbling, Willow's first instinct is to grab Hunter and hold on for dear life. Her intense scrunched up expression is just so funny. "I will protect you, my love. No big dumb hill is going to harm a hair on your pretty head. Your girl is here." And Hunter barely acknowledging it (it probably happens a lot) because his life is currently flashing before his eyes. GOD they're just such nerds.

Oh and this frame is just SO adorable. The way Willow's hold on him lingers for a moment before he walks towards the grave, Hunter's heart eyes. They're clearly still so soft and touchy with each other. And this is after three years. I know they were insufferable when they started dating as teens.

[niallerspayno]

I Like Your Style (Niall Horan x reader) - Fic Request

Anonymous request: hey love, if you’re up for it i would love to read an enemies to lovers imagine with Niall and the reader. maybe he often flirts with her but they still really hate each other, until she one day snaps and they make out? just if you feel inspired, love your profile!!❤️

Tags: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff

Masterlist

You still remember that night—the night everything started. It’s burned into your memory, every detail as vivid as if it just happened.

The award was for Breakthrough Artist of the Year. A career-defining moment, they called it, and you had fought tooth and nail to get here. Months of relentless touring, sleepless nights in the studio, and navigating an industry that always seemed just a little more skeptical of you. But the competition was fierce.

There were four nominees: a critically acclaimed indie darling, a viral TikTok sensation, Niall Horan—former boyband star turned solo artist with an already massive fanbase—and you. The underdog.

You had convinced yourself you wouldn’t win. How could you, standing next to names that practically guaranteed success? Even as they called your name, you sat frozen for a moment, your brain struggling to catch up with reality. The applause surged around you, bright and overwhelming, as the cameras captured your stunned expression.

You stood, smoothing your dress with trembling hands, and made your way to the stage. The trophy was heavier than you expected, cold and solid in your grip as you delivered a speech that you barely remember now—something about gratitude and hard work.

But the real drama started after.

Backstage, you see him almost immediately.

Niall.

He’s leaning against the wall in the press area, his signature grin plastered on his face as the cameras crowd around him. But his eyes—his eyes are scanning the room, and when they land on you, that grin shifts. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t something magnetic about it, something that tugged at your gut. It’s as if he knows exactly how to get under your skin.

He strolls over to you with that swagger of his, the one that drives you crazy.

“Hey, congrats on the win, darlin’,” he says, his voice so casual you almost miss the way it sends a spark of irritation through you.

“Thanks,” you reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

But Niall doesn’t miss a beat. His eyes rake over you in that playful way that makes you want to shove him away and lean closer all at once. “I’ve gotta admit, you do have your own... style,” he says, leaning in just a little too close, his breath warm against your ear.

It’s the way he says it—the style part—that makes something cold snap inside you. Like it’s not a compliment at all. His eyes glint with amusement as if he’s daring you to react.

You clench your jaw. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you ask, keeping your voice level, but your pulse betrays you.

Niall just shrugs, the grin still playing on his lips. “Could be. Depends on how you take it.” His tone is light, but there’s an edge to it, something that only adds fuel to the fire already burning between you two.

Before you can say anything else, the press swarms you both, and Niall steps back just enough to let the spotlight shift. He’s still watching you, though, his gaze never leaving your face as he answers a few questions.

“She’s got a good look, doesn’t she?”

“You mean her style?” A journalist teases.

Niall chuckles, giving a lazy nod. “Yeah. Something about her vibe.”

You feel your stomach churn. The comment wasn’t just a dig at your style—it was a jab at your talent. You can hear it in his voice, the way he downplays everything. The worst part? The media eats it up. The headlines the next day are brutal.

“Niall Horan Throws Shade at Breakthrough Artist Winner?”

“Pop Rivalry Turns Icy After Award Show Win.”

“Niall Horan’s Casual Dig: Is There Drama with the New Star?”

It all spirals out of control. The press turns a single comment into a full-blown feud, spinning a narrative that’s hard to escape. Niall’s flirty remarks become more frequent, more blatant, each one adding a layer of tension. The more he flirts, the more you want to tear your hair out, especially when it feels like he’s teasing you on purpose—like he knows exactly how much it annoys you.

But even as the rivalry intensifies, there’s this lingering question in the back of your mind. Is he playing a game, or does he mean something else entirely?

And now, here you are—seated next to him on The Voice, the cameras rolling and the entire world watching. You both grin for the cameras, but the tension between you is palpable. Flirting aside, it’s clear: this competition is no longer just about talent. It’s personal.

...

The studio is alive with electricity, the anticipation hanging in the air as the next contestant steps up to the mic. You’re perched on the edge of your seat, already tense, because you know this is the moment. You can feel it. This contestant is exactly what you’ve been waiting for—a voice that could break through the noise, something unique.

But of course, Niall is sitting right next to you, not even pretending to be subtle. He’s leaning back in his chair with that cocky grin plastered on his face, practically vibrating with excitement. You can’t not notice him. He’s always been like that—loud, insistent, trying to make you feel something, anything.

You know what he's doing.

"Bet you a tenner I get this one," he says, his voice low but not quiet enough to escape your hearing.

You glance over at him, your gaze narrowing. "Keep dreaming, Horan. You couldn’t pick talent if it slapped you in the face."

He raises an eyebrow, that grin of his only growing. “Is that right? You might wanna watch this, then. I’m about to claim them.” He leans forward, eyes burning into yours, and for a second, there’s something in the way his jaw clenches that makes you feel… something. It’s not a nice feeling, though—it’s the kind of frustration you get when someone knows exactly what they’re doing.

You lean forward too, but you don’t let your gaze linger on him. You can’t. You have to stay focused. This contestant could be yours.

The music starts—a soft, melodic intro that gradually builds—and the voice that fills the studio takes you by surprise. They’re good. Damn good. The rawness, the power in the notes. It’s clear they have something special.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Niall mutters, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he eyes the contestant. “You sure you can handle this one, love?”

His words come out playful, but there’s a distinct edge to them. Like a challenge. And you hate it.

You’re not backing down. Not now. You press your lips together, forcing yourself to stay calm as the voice soars higher. You’re ready—so ready—for this. You need this.

Kelly Clarkson leans forward, clearly paying attention, and her voice rings out. “Ooooh, I’ve got a feeling about this one. You two might actually be in trouble.”

Blake chuckles beside her, enjoying the spectacle. “Looks like our two favorite coaches are about to go head-to-head again. Good luck, kids.”

You throw Blake a sarcastic grin. “I don’t need luck, Shelton.” Then, without looking at Niall, you add, “I’ve got skill.”

Niall just chuckles, and the sound grates against your ears. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got plenty of skill. But it’s me who knows how to make people shine.” He winks, obviously trying to get under your skin. And damn it, it’s working.

“You keep talking, Niall. Eventually, you might convince yourself,” you mutter, your fingers itching over the button.

You know he’s close to hitting it. You know he wants to press it as badly as you do. And there’s no way you’re letting him get away with it. Not this time.

The contestant hits a perfect high note as the song ends, and it’s your moment. Your hand slams down on the button, and your chair turns with a satisfying whoosh. At the exact same time, you hear the sound of Niall’s chair whirring around too. You both know. It’s a race now. The stakes are higher than ever.

The crowd erupts in cheers, the audience clearly buzzing with excitement over the fierce competition. The contestant stands there, wide-eyed, unsure who to choose, and you can feel Niall’s presence just inches away. His gaze locks with yours, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You know I’m the better choice,” he says, leaning forward just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. There’s a hint of something in his voice—something more than just a game. Something personal. And you hate how much it affects you.

You turn to the contestant, keeping your voice smooth and confident. “Don’t listen to him,” you say, flashing your most charming smile. “I’m the one who’s going to take you places. I’ll give you the chance to be exactly who you’re meant to be.”

Niall’s eyes flick to you, but his expression shifts, something colder lurking behind the cocky grin. “Oh, I’m sure you will. But here’s the thing—I’ve got experience. I know what it takes to make it. You’ll be in good hands with me.”

You can feel your heart rate picking up. You’ve been in enough of these situations to know what’s at stake, and this time, you can’t let him win. You won’t.

Blake’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Well, well, well, looks like we’ve got ourselves a little showdown here. I don’t know about you, Kelly, but I’m loving the drama already.”

Kelly grins, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. “I think they’re both ready to throw down. Should we get the popcorn, Blake?”

The contestant steps forward, clearly uncomfortable with the mounting tension. “This is... tough. I’m really torn.” They glance between you and Niall. “You’re both amazing coaches…”

You smile a little too tightly, your patience fraying at the edges. “I’ll give you everything you need. We’ll win this, together.”

Niall leans even closer, his voice softer, more persuasive. “I won’t let you down. You’ll be in the best hands with me. Let’s make this happen.” He says it like a promise, and you can’t stand the way it makes your heart skip.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the contestant steps forward. “I’m going with... Niall.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You feel the weight of them, the finality. Niall grins, standing up and reaching out to give the contestant a high-five. “You made the right choice.”

As Niall celebrates, you lean back in your chair, forcing a smile you don’t quite feel. You can feel the heat of Niall’s victory like a brand against your skin.

He glances over at you, eyes gleaming with triumph. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”

Blake snickers. “They’re definitely not over this rivalry. This season’s gonna be fun to watch.”

You can barely keep the snarl from your lips. “Oh, just wait, Horan. The season’s just getting started.”

You stand, tension crackling between you both as you watch Niall walk away with his new contestant. You know it’s only a matter of time before you get your turn. And when you do... it’s going to be your victory.

...

The stage is set for another Blind Audition, and the energy in the studio feels electric. The previous battle was a tough one, with Niall swooping in to steal your contestant, and it’s been eating at you ever since. You will get one back from him. You’ll make him regret thinking he’s the top coach on this show.

You’ve been watching Niall closely, and you know he’s itching for the next powerhouse vocalist to walk through those doors. He’s sitting back in his chair, relaxed, like he’s already got the next contestant locked down. But you’re ready to ruin that plan.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your fingers hovering over the button. His cocky smile, the way he leans back so casually—he thinks he’s got it in the bag again. Not this time.

The next contestant steps forward, a powerhouse vocalist who hits that first note with so much raw emotion that it sends chills through the room. You’re instantly invested, nodding along to the beat. There’s something special here.

You can feel Niall’s eyes on you as the voice fills the studio, and you see him twitching, clearly ready to slam down his button the second he feels the connection. You don’t even give him the chance.

Without thinking twice, your hand moves swiftly, slamming your button down and blocking Niall from turning around. The bright red light flashes above his chair.

“No!” he shouts in disbelief, sitting up straight. “What the hell, you can’t be serious right now!”

Your smirk is all too satisfying. You stare at him, keeping your voice cool, though there’s a playful edge to it. “Oh, I’m serious. I’m not letting you take this one from me, Horan. Not this time.”

Niall glares at you, his frustration clear. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You blocked me?” He laughs in disbelief, his voice dripping with irritation. “That’s low, even for you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Low? I’m just playing the game, Niall. You’re the one who’s been stealing from me all this time. Now it’s my turn.”

Blake chuckles from his chair, glancing at Kelly. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone’s finally getting a taste of their own medicine.”

“Guess it’s just what happens when you think you can take everyone,” Kelly adds, teasing Niall in her signature way.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, enjoying the chaos you’ve caused. Niall, though, is seething. You can practically hear him grinding his teeth.

“Well, let’s see how this plays out then,” he mutters under his breath, clearly fuming.

You keep your eyes locked on him for a second longer, enjoying the tension that’s now simmering between you. You’ve managed to outplay him for once—and it feels good.

The contestant finishes their performance with a final, dramatic note, and the moment of silence feels like an eternity.

Blake is the first to hit his button, and then Kelly does the same. But you’re waiting.

As soon as the contestant finishes, you hit your button again, and the chair spins. You watch the contestant’s face light up with excitement as they see your chair turned, and your heart swells with satisfaction.

But Niall’s chair remains turned away. You know he’s struggling to hide his annoyance.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me,” you say, your voice almost a challenge as you look over at him.

He meets your gaze, his jaw clenched, eyes narrow. “You’ll regret that,” he says under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear.

“I highly doubt it,” you reply, turning your attention back to the contestant, ignoring Niall’s glare. You’ve just taken something precious from him, and it feels good.

The contestant steps forward, looking between the coaches, clearly thrilled by the attention they’ve just received from all of you. But you know this is where it gets tricky. You’ve got the advantage—Niall is blocked, and now you have to convince the contestant to join your team.

“Listen,” you begin, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve got a voice that can move mountains. I can help you take that talent to the next level. I know exactly how to guide you to success, and I’d love for you to be on my team.”

“You made the right choice,” they say with a smile, stepping toward your team.

A rush of triumph fills your chest as you give the contestant a big smile. “I won’t let you down.”

Niall, on the other hand, is trying to keep his cool, but you can tell by the way his shoulders are tense and the way he’s not looking at you that you’ve won this round. You couldn’t help but enjoy it just a little.

...

The moment you step backstage, the adrenaline from the Blind Audition still courses through your veins. You’ve just blocked Niall, taken a contestant right from under his nose, and it feels damn good.

You pull your jacket tighter around you, your mind racing with the satisfaction of winning this round. But just as you think you're in the clear, you hear a voice behind you—low, smooth, and unmistakably Niall's.

"You think you’ve won, don’t you?” His voice is laced with that teasing arrogance that always makes your blood boil.

You turn around, your heart racing at the sight of him, standing there with that smirk plastered across his face. His eyes narrow as they meet yours, like he's trying to read every thought behind your cool exterior. But you can’t let him get to you. Not now.

"Won? It’s just a game, Horan," you reply, your voice biting. "But I guess that’s a concept you wouldn’t understand, considering how you’ve been playing this entire season."

Niall takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. His cocky grin remains, but there’s a tension in his posture that you can’t ignore. "I don’t need to play games when I’ve got talent on my team," he says, his voice low and challenging. “You think you’re so clever, blocking me? But it’s only a matter of time before I take it all back. You can’t keep this up forever.”

You lean against the nearby wall, crossing your arms and letting out a sharp breath. "You’re all talk, Horan. And honestly? I’m getting sick of hearing it. You’ve been stealing from me every round, but you can’t take a little competition?"

Niall smirks, clearly enjoying the way your frustration is boiling over. "You’re cute when you get all fired up, you know that?" His voice drops an octave, and you can feel the shift in the air between you. His words hang in the space, almost like a dare.

You roll your eyes, refusing to let him get the best of you. "Cut the crap, Niall. This isn’t about flirting. It’s about the competition. Keep it professional."

But even as you say it, you can feel the heat radiating from him. The way he’s standing so close now, his presence filling the space with an intensity that’s hard to ignore. His scent, that mix of cologne and something undeniably him, seems to invade your senses. You try to ignore it, but your pulse betrays you, speeding up in a way you can’t control.

He steps even closer, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for a bottle of water on the counter, his fingers grazing your skin just long enough to send a jolt of electricity through your body.

The contact is brief, but it’s enough to make the air between you both thick with something unspoken. The sexual tension is palpable now, hanging between you like a storm ready to break.

"Keep telling yourself that," Niall murmurs, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again. His voice is soft, almost teasing, as if he's savoring this back-and-forth. "But we both know there's more to this than just the competition."

You can’t breathe for a moment, your mind racing. You hate the fact that he’s right, that you feel something when he’s near. Something more than just professional rivalry.

But you won’t let him see that. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s affecting you.

"Just keep it up, Horan," you bite back, pushing off the wall and standing straighter, trying to compose yourself. "You might be cute, but I’m not here for games. You’ll see. I’m not the one who’ll be standing alone in the end."

Niall chuckles, that wicked grin never leaving his face. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” He leans in just slightly, his lips almost brushing your ear as he whispers, “I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

The heat of his breath against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to show it. You grit your teeth, stepping back and putting some distance between you two.

"You’re delusional," you snap, fighting to keep your voice steady. "If you think I’m falling for your charming act, you're sorely mistaken."

Niall stands there for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips once more before he straightens up and steps back. "Maybe I’m not trying to charm you." His gaze hardens as his smile turns into something a little darker. "But keep pretending that’s not exactly what’s happening. It’s cute, really."

You can’t stand it. You’re done with him. “You’re so full of yourself,” you mutter under your breath, turning away to gather your thoughts.

But Niall isn’t finished yet. "I’ll leave you to your delusions, sweetheart. But just remember this—no matter how much you try to block me, I’ll always find a way to get to you." His voice is thick with meaning, like he’s daring you to challenge him.

You turn back just in time to catch the glint in his eyes, the fire still burning between you. For a moment, neither of you moves. There’s a beat of silence, heavy with the unspoken words and emotions that have been building since you walked into this backstage area.

Then, without another word, Niall walks away, leaving you standing there, heart pounding in your chest and a fire raging inside you that you can’t quite extinguish.

...

The air backstage is filled with anticipation as the Battle Rounds approach. The tension between you and Niall has only grown over the course of the blind auditions, and it’s now time to take things to the next level. Every coach knows this round is critical—not just for the contestants, but for their pride.

The producers have a surprise in store for everyone tonight. To kick off the Battle Rounds in a spectacular way, they’ve asked the four coaches to perform a song together as an opening number. After a brief moment of surprise, all of you agree to the idea, knowing it’s a perfect way to set the tone for the intense competition ahead.

The air is thick with anticipation. The studio lights blaze above, casting a bright glow over the stage. The live band hums behind you, ready to bring the rhythm to life. You’re seated in one of the ornate chairs, feeling the weight of the competition settle on your shoulders. You glance around the circle of coaches—Niall is sitting next to you, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He shoots you a half-smile, the kind that holds a hint of something else, a little too playful. You catch his gaze, but you refuse to acknowledge it for too long, focusing instead on the task ahead.

Blake and Kelly are to the other side of Niall, both chatting lightly amongst themselves, their voices floating over the murmur of the audience. Blake is already making faces at the crowd, showing off for the cameras, but Kelly’s gaze keeps flicking between you and Niall, like she’s sensing the tension brewing between you two. You know she’s not blind to it—neither is Blake, for that matter.

The band strikes up the first notes of Can't Take My Eyes Off You, and the audience erupts in cheers. You lift the microphone, feeling the weight of it in your hand, and your nerves dissipate into the music. The competition has officially begun—this performance will set the stage for the battle rounds, and every word you sing feels heavier now.

You glance over at Niall, your heart giving a small jolt as he leans slightly toward you, his voice low but unmistakable. He’s waiting for the right moment to take the lead, but you’re not going to let him have it that easily. You shift in your seat, ready for the challenge.

The first verse starts, and you sing, your voice floating smoothly into the air.

"You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you"

You feel Niall's presence beside you—his attention unwavering as he follows your lead. But there’s something else there, something beneath the surface. His eyes flick to you as you sing, the playful challenge between the two of you still palpable. He leans closer just as his turn comes, and you can feel the air shift.

"You'd be like Heaven to touch I wanna hold you so much"

There’s a subtle tension building between you, an invisible string connecting you both as your voices harmonise. The entire moment feels charged, as though you’re both competing for the spotlight, even though you’re supposed to be collaborating. You can’t deny the heat of his gaze as it lingers on you, something unspoken between you, neither of you willing to break it.

The song swells, and you take your turn with a bit more flair, your eyes locking with Niall’s.

"I love you, baby And if it's quite alright I need you, baby To warm the lonely night I love you, baby Trust in me when I say"

The two of you are side by side, but it feels like you’re worlds apart. You can sense his smirk before he even opens his mouth, and when he sings, his voice smooth and teasing, you can almost feel the challenge in his words.

"Oh, pretty baby Don't bring me down, I pray Oh, pretty baby Now that I've found you, stay"

You fight to keep your composure, your voice strong, but it’s hard to ignore the silent battle unfolding between you two. He’s playing with you, pushing you, and you won’t back down.

You both reach the final chorus, and there’s a shift—a spark that ignites between you as you sing in tandem. The energy is electric, the entire performance now feeling like it’s not just about the song, but about proving something. To each other. To the audience.

"And let me love you, baby Let me love you"

The crowd’s roar rises as you finish the last note. The music fades, and you both hold your microphones, your breath heavy from the performance. You steal another glance at Niall, and this time, his smirk is gone, replaced by something else—a quiet recognition. His eyes linger on yours, and for a moment, there’s an unspoken understanding between you.

The applause is deafening as the coaches exchange looks, Blake already grinning and giving you both a thumbs-up, while Kelly gives you an approving nod. But it’s Niall’s gaze that sticks with you—the challenge is still there, unspoken, but clear. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, his eyes still on you.

You can feel the tension between you like a string pulled tight, waiting for the next move.

...

The applause still rings faintly in your ears as you make your way backstage. The buzz of the performance is dulled by the swirl of thoughts in your head—mainly, Niall. The way he leaned just a little too close during the song, his voice dipping in that teasing way he knows drives you mad.

And maybe it’s the heat of the performance or the months of frustration bubbling over, but you’re done. Done letting this hang over you, done second-guessing every look, word, and touch from him.

You spot him by the craft services table, casually leaning against it like he doesn’t have a care in the world, laughing with some producer. His easy charm grates on you, pushing you to stride over, your steps fueled by determination and anger.

“Niall,” you say sharply. He turns, his brows lifting in surprise. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Alright then,” he drawls, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Didn’t think you’d be so eager for some one-on-one time, love.”

“Save it,” you snap, your tone brooking no argument. “Somewhere private.”

His smirk falters, curiosity flashing in his eyes, but he shrugs and follows you into the quiet hallway. The air between you is already thick, and as soon as you’re out of sight from the crew, you whirl on him.

“I’m not playing games anymore, Niall,” you say, your voice taut. “What did you mean at the awards show? The comment about my ‘style’—what was that supposed to be?”

He blinks, caught off guard. “You’re still hung up on that?”

“Yes, I’m still hung up on it!” you snap, your frustration boiling over. “You made me look like a joke in front of everyone. So, explain. Was it a cheap shot, or were you just being your usual, arrogant self?”

Niall exhales, dragging a hand through his hair, but his playful smirk doesn’t quite disappear. “You really think I’d waste my time taking cheap shots at you?”

“Don’t act like you’re above it,” you fire back. “You’ve been throwing jabs at me since day one.”

“Because you make it so bloody easy,” he counters, stepping closer, his voice low and laced with that maddening charm. “You walk in with your head held high, acting like you’re untouchable. It’s…endearing.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me,” you say, pointing a finger at his chest.

He grabs your hand before you can pull away, his grip firm but not harsh. “I’m not patronizing you,” he murmurs, his tone dropping. “I’m telling you the truth. You’ve got this fire about you that makes it impossible not to push your buttons.”

You snatch your hand back, your pulse racing for reasons you’d rather not admit. “So, that’s what this is? Some kind of sick game to you?”

“No,” he says, his own frustration flaring now. “It’s not a game. But maybe I said what I said back then because I was jealous, alright? You’ve got this incredible career, this talent I can’t help but admire, and I—”

“Jealous?” you cut him off, your voice incredulous. “That’s your excuse? You made me feel small because you were insecure?”

His jaw tightens, and he steps even closer, his blue eyes blazing. “You don’t get it, do you? It wasn’t about making you feel small. It was about getting your attention. And, for the record, I’ve got a lot of respect for you, even if you refuse to see it.”

“Respect?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that what you call constantly flirting and turning everything into a competition?”

“Would you rather I ignored you?” he shoots back. “Because I don’t think you’d like that either.”

His words cut through you, your heart pounding as the tension between you reaches a breaking point. His gaze is locked on yours, and for a split second, you think he might close the distance between you.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, stepping back to break whatever spell this is.

“And you’re infuriating,” he retorts, though there’s something softer in his voice now. “But admit it—you’d miss me if I stopped trying.”

You hate how your cheeks heat at his words, how your anger feels tangled up in something deeper, something you’re not ready to name.

“Forget it,” you say, shaking your head. “This was a mistake.”

You turn and walk away, not daring to look back. But you can feel his eyes on you, and his words—sharp, teasing, and maddeningly honest—linger long after you’ve gone.

…

The Battle Rounds are behind you now, but the tension between you and Niall hasn’t eased in the slightest. If anything, it’s only grown sharper with every exchange, every offhanded quip, and every side-eyed glance from him that lingers just a beat too long. The audience eats it up, of course, but for you, it’s exhausting. Weeks of sniping at each other on live television have done nothing to resolve the resentment simmering beneath the surface. Now, it’s the Knockouts, and fate—or maybe just some cruel producer with a sense of humor—has pitted your contestant against Niall’s.

You sit in your oversized chair, trying to project calm confidence, but the energy crackling in the room feels like it’s working against you. Niall is close enough that you can hear him tapping his foot against the base of his chair, his arm draped over the backrest in that infuriatingly casual way that makes it seem like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His contestant is up first, and when the cameras cut to you both for reactions, he leans toward you with a grin that’s all smug mischief.

“Hope your kid brought their A-game,” he murmurs, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear. “Mine’s about to blow the roof off.”

You don’t bother looking at him, keeping your gaze fixed on the stage instead. “Confidence is cute, Niall. Overconfidence, though? Not so much.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and maddeningly unbothered. “We’ll see how cute it looks when I’m walking out of here with another win under my belt.”

The lights dim, signaling the start of the performance, and Niall leans back in his chair, still grinning as if he already knows the outcome.

His contestant delivers a near-flawless performance, commanding the stage with an undeniable presence and a pitch-perfect rendition of a current pop anthem. The audience is eating it up, cheering and clapping in all the right places. You can’t deny the talent—it’s impressive. Annoyingly so.

When the performance ends, the applause is thunderous, and Niall is on his feet, clapping like a proud parent at a school recital. He glances at you as he sits back down, his grin sharper now. “Tough act to follow, eh?”

You finally meet his gaze, matching his smirk with one of your own. “Oh, don’t worry. My contestant knows how to make an impression.”

And they do. Your contestant strides onto the stage and delivers a performance brimming with raw emotion and artistry. It’s less polished than Niall’s act but undeniably heartfelt, a stark contrast that resonates with the crowd. By the time the final note rings out, the audience is on their feet again, their applause just as loud as before.

You glance at Niall, satisfied to see his expression falter—if only for a moment. “What was that you were saying earlier?” you ask, your tone sweet and pointed.

But Niall recovers quickly, leaning closer as the audience noise fades. “Not bad,” he says, his grin returning. “I’ll give it to you—your kid’s got heart. But sometimes heart isn’t enough, love.”

The final decision is made, and when the host announces Niall’s contestant as the winner, he explodes out of his seat, throwing his arms in the air with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“YES!” he shouts, turning to you with a laugh that’s equal parts giddy and teasing. “Told you, didn’t I?”

You stay seated, forcing a tight smile as the cameras cut to you. “Congratulations,” you say through gritted teeth, though your eyes narrow as he takes his sweet time basking in the moment.

As the stage clears and the contestants exit, Niall plops back down in his chair, still buzzing with energy. He leans toward you again, his voice a soft murmur so only you can hear. “Don’t take it too hard, love. You’re still my favorite rival.”

You glare at him, your composure slipping for just a second as your frustration bubbles over. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, here we are,” he says with a wink, clearly relishing every second of your irritation.

The cameras cut to a commercial break, but the tension between you remains.

…

The day finally comes to an end, and the air backstage is charged with the hum of crew members packing up, the chatter of contestants celebrating or consoling one another, and the occasional burst of laughter from Kelly and Blake somewhere nearby. You’re standing at your vanity, wiping the last of your makeup off, your reflection staring back at you with tired, frustrated eyes. It’s not just the long day weighing on you—it’s him. Niall.

The Knockout rounds have been a whirlwind, but tonight felt like the final straw. His cocky grin, his teasing, the way he gloated about his contestant's win—it’s all too much. You’re still stewing over it when you hear his voice from the doorway.

“Burning a hole in the mirror there, love. What’d it ever do to you?”

You glance at him in the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his tie loosened and his shirt untucked like he owns the damn place. His hair is a little mussed, his grin infuriatingly lazy, and yet your stomach tightens in that traitorous way it always does when he’s around.

“I’m not in the mood, Niall,” you say flatly, turning back to the mirror.

He steps inside anyway, the sound of his boots soft against the carpet. “Come on, don’t be like that. It’s not my fault you can’t handle a bit of competition.”

You spin around, unable to stop yourself. “Competition? You mean you strutting around like a peacock and rubbing it in everyone’s faces every time you win? Yeah, real classy.”

Niall’s eyebrows shoot up, but there’s amusement flickering in his eyes. “Strutting like a peacock? That’s rich coming from you, miss ‘watch my contestant steal the show.’ You’ve got the whole humble act down, but we both know you love being center stage.”

Your pulse races, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “God, you are so full of yourself. Do you even hear the things you say?”

“Oh, I hear them,” he says, stepping closer. “And so do you. That’s why you’re always snapping back, isn’t it? Admit it—you love our little game.”

“I—” you start, but the words die in your throat because he’s too close now, his scent—clean, woodsy, with a hint of something darker—filling your senses.

“You want to know what really gets to you?” he murmurs, his voice dropping low, his eyes locking onto yours. “It’s not my ego. It’s not the teasing. It’s the fact that you feel something when we’re going at it. Admit it. You hate how much I get under your skin because part of you likes it.”

Your heart is hammering now, and every nerve in your body feels alive, sparking with frustration and something else, something hotter. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“I know this,” he says, his hand brushing against yours, his fingers curling lightly around your wrist. “If I kissed you right now, you wouldn’t stop me.”

And there it is—his challenge, his dare, hanging in the charged air between you.

Your breath catches, and before you can overthink it, your free hand grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him down. The moment your lips collide, it’s like a dam breaking.

The kiss is fire and electricity, all-consuming and frantic, mouths clashing as though you’re trying to prove something, trying to win a battle neither of you truly wants to end. His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, his grip firm and possessive. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging, eliciting a low growl from him that sends a shiver down your spine.

The world fades away—the noise outside, the glaring lights, the rivalry that’s defined your relationship. All that exists is the heat of his mouth on yours, the press of his body against yours, the way his hands roam as though he’s memorizing every inch of you.

His tongue slides against yours, and the sensation pulls a soft gasp from you. He takes advantage, deepening the kiss, his teeth nipping lightly at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. You press closer, your back hitting the edge of the vanity, and he groans against your mouth as his hands grip your hips tighter.

It’s fiery and desperate, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll lose yourself completely in him. His lips trail along your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin as he murmurs, “God, you drive me mad, you know that?”

The sound of his voice, rough and breathless, snaps you back to reality. You push against his chest, not hard enough to truly separate, but enough to remind yourself where you are.

“Niall,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He pauses, pulling back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips swollen and pink, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Say the word,” he murmurs, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment, your mind spinning, your body still thrumming from his touch. Finally, you exhale, your voice trembling but steady. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Sure, love. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

And just like that, he’s backing away, leaving you leaning against the vanity, your lips still tingling and your heart racing. As he walks out, he glances over his shoulder, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

You’re left alone in the quiet room, the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin, and you know—this changes everything.

...

The following morning dawns crisp and bright, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that marked the Knockout rounds. The studio buzzes with its usual pre-show energy, but you feel strangely detached, your thoughts replaying the night before on an endless loop. Niall's words, his touch, his kiss—all of it lingers, pulling your focus no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

You’ve managed to avoid him all morning, diving into rehearsals with your team and keeping your interactions limited to polite nods when absolutely necessary. But as fate—or that same meddling producer—would have it, you find yourself alone in one of the empty sound booths just before lunch, reviewing notes for your contestant. And then, like clockwork, he’s there.

“Running away from me already?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s a hint of something deeper beneath it, something uncertain.

You don’t look up, pretending to be engrossed in the clipboard in your hands. “Not everything’s about you, Niall.”

He leans casually against the doorframe, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. “Last night felt pretty personal, though. Or am I imagining things?”

Your cheeks burn at the memory, and you finally look at him, your expression carefully neutral. “If you’re here to gloat, don’t bother. I’m not in the mood.”

His grin falters slightly, and he steps inside, letting the door click shut behind him. “I’m not here to gloat,” he says softly, his tone a stark departure from his usual bravado. “I’m here because we need to talk.”

You set the clipboard down, crossing your arms defensively. “About what? How you can’t seem to go five minutes without trying to get under my skin?”

“About why I do it,” he counters, his voice steady, his gaze locked onto yours. “Because I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you.”

The confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. He takes a tentative step closer, his blue eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for something—permission, maybe, or understanding.

“Do you even know how this started?” you ask finally, your voice quieter now, almost tentative. “What you said back then—about my style. It felt like you were tearing me down, like you didn’t think I deserved to be here.”

Niall winces, his jaw tightening. “I know. And I was a right idiot for saying it like that.” He rubs the back of his neck, exhaling heavily. “But it wasn’t what I meant, not really. I said it because… hell, because I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” you repeat, incredulous.

He nods, his expression surprisingly vulnerable. “You walked into that room like you belonged there, like you were untouchable. And I—I hated how much I noticed. How much I admired it. You had this fire, and it scared the hell out of me, but it also drew me in. So, yeah, I made that stupid comment, and then the press ran with it, and before I knew it, we were enemies.”

You stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “You could’ve just said that.”

“I didn’t know how,” he admits, his voice low. “Still don’t, half the time. It’s easier to tease, to rile you up, because at least then I get a reaction. At least then I get to feel close to you, even if it’s in the middle of a fight.”

Your heart pounds, your defenses crumbling as you take a shaky breath. “Niall…”

He steps closer, his hand reaching for yours but stopping just short. “Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this, love. Tell me I didn’t ruin us before we even had a chance.”

For a moment, the room feels impossibly small, the air between you heavy with unspoken possibilities. Then, slowly, you take his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “You didn’t ruin anything,” you whisper. “But you’re damn good at making things complicated.”

He laughs softly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulls you closer. “I’ll take complicated if it means I get to keep this—keep you.”

And then his lips are on yours again, softer this time but no less consuming. The kiss is a promise, a new beginning, and when you pull back, your foreheads resting together, you know there’s no turning back.

“Well,” you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips. “This should make the live shows interesting.”

His grin is back, full and unapologetically cocky. “Oh, love, you have no idea.”

The rivalry isn’t over—it never will be. But as he holds you close, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand, you realize you wouldn’t want it any other way.

...

The finale of The Voice is a spectacle unlike any other. The stage is a kaleidoscope of lights and sound, the energy in the room electric as the final contestants prepare for their performances. Months of hard work, endless rehearsals, and nail-biting eliminations have led to this moment—and while the focus is supposed to be on the contestants, the coaches’ chemistry has become just as much a part of the story.

Specifically, yours and Niall’s.

The once-infamous rivalry has evolved into something else entirely, leaving fans, contestants, and even the production team buzzing with speculation. You and Niall are still competitive, but the edge has softened. He cheers for your team members, and you’ve been caught smiling—smiling!—at his. The biting comments have turned into playful banter, and there’s a lingering warmth in your interactions that has everyone guessing.

“Okay, spill,” Kelly says during a commercial break, leaning over the arm of her chair to give you a pointed look. “What is going on with you two? First, you’re at each other’s throats, and now it’s like... I don’t know, some rom-com in the making.”

Blake chimes in, arms crossed and smirking. “I don’t know about rom-com. It’s more like a Hallmark movie—predictable as hell. I mean, just kiss already.”

“Will you two stop?” you hiss, glancing at the cameras, but your flushed cheeks give you away.

Niall, sitting in his chair with all the confidence in the world, just grins. “Don’t listen to them, love. Let them speculate. It’s more fun that way.”

Kelly raises an eyebrow. “See? That. That right there. The way he calls you ‘love’ like it’s no big deal. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Before you can respond, the host’s voice fills the arena, announcing the night’s first performance. The conversation is tabled—for now—but the tension lingers, amplified by the way Niall’s gaze keeps finding yours, even when the cameras aren’t rolling.

...

The finale flies by in a whirlwind of stunning performances, heartfelt speeches, and a palpable sense of anticipation. The votes are tallied, and the stage is set for the big announcement. You stand with the other coaches, your heart pounding as the host begins the dramatic countdown.

“And the winner of The Voice is…”

The crowd erupts as the host calls out Niall’s contestant’s name. Confetti rains down, music swells, and Niall throws his arms up in triumph. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he pulls his contestant into a celebratory hug, but his eyes flick to you almost immediately.

You clap for the winner, genuinely happy despite the outcome. You’ve come to respect Niall’s coaching style, even if his ego sometimes gets in the way. He’s good at what he does—annoyingly good—and you can’t help but admire him for it.

As the chaos dies down and the cameras cut back to the coaches, the host turns to you and Niall, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now, before we wrap up this incredible season, I think there’s one question on everyone’s mind.”

Your stomach drops. Oh no.

The host gestures between you and Niall. “What’s the deal here? First, you’re rivals, then you’re besties—what’s really going on?”

The audience roars with laughter and cheers, and you’re about to brush it off with a witty comment when Niall steps forward, his grin turning downright devilish.

“Well,” he says, his voice carrying easily over the noise, “I think it’s about time we clear the air, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen. “Niall, don’t you dare—”

But he does. Before you can stop him, he strides over, cups your face in his hands, and kisses you.

It’s not just any kiss. It’s a moment. The kind that steals your breath and melts your knees. His lips are warm, firm, and utterly consuming as he pulls you closer, one hand sliding to your waist as the other cradles your cheek. The crowd goes absolutely wild, screaming and clapping, and you vaguely hear Blake yelling something like, “FINALLY!”

For a second, you forget the cameras, the audience, everything but the feel of Niall’s mouth on yours and the way he holds you like you’re the only thing that matters. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his grin as bright as the stage lights.

“Guess the secret’s out, love,” he murmurs, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You blink, your heart racing, and manage to mutter, “You are so dead.”

He just laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he turns to the audience. “Thanks for a great season, everyone!”

The cameras capture every second, and by the time you make it backstage, the internet is already exploding. #NiallAndY/NFinale, #VoiceCoupleGoals, and #EnemiesToLovers are trending worldwide, with clips of the kiss going viral in real time.

Kelly and Blake are waiting for you in the green room, both grinning like Cheshire cats. “Well, that was dramatic,” Kelly says, sipping her drink. “Even for you two.”

Blake claps Niall on the shoulder. “You’ve got guts, Horan. I’ll give you that.”

Niall just shrugs, looking completely unrepentant. “What can I say? I like making headlines.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. As much as you want to throttle him for the public spectacle, there’s no denying the weight that’s lifted now that the truth is out.

Later, as you sneak away from the chaos for a quiet moment, Niall finds you leaning against a backstage railing, staring out at the city lights. He slides his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Not bad for a season finale, huh?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

You tilt your head back to look at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his gaze. “You really are insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And maybe, just maybe, he’s right.

...

Part 2

[justlikeeddie]

all of layton and nikita's strictly dances ranked CORRECTLY by ME

14. Samba, Week 1

unfair to have to rank this one really because nobody really knows what they’re doing in week 1. FASCINATING to go back and watch this though. obvs this is strong in the context of a first week dance! but knowing where they’re going to go from here… this is the one and only time you can see that nikita is dancing layton through the steps and keeping him afloat. they’re not yet a PARTNERSHIP here. they don’t KNOW each other!!! anyway good luck to these boys with navigating what they are going to experience over the next three months <3

13. American Smooth, Week 10

the infamous bottom-two dance. a result which i believe was undeserved!!! but the american smooth IS the most boring category on strictly unfortunately, so it’s a humble placing for this one. i did not love their outfits, for once! why don’t they go together. why does nikita look like peter pan. however, obviously i liked it when they both picked each other up and did a little skip in the air. also enjoyed how much craig enjoyed being bammed up by the ending.

12. Rumba, Week 12

controversial to place this so low in the ranking perhaps?? obviously this was a complex routine that they performed beautifully AND was very tender and intimate. but the rumba is the second most boring dance on strictly after the american smooth i’m afraid I’M SORRY. however, points awarded for nikita saying afterwards that dancing this felt like the rest of the world fell away and they were the only two people in existence. girl what

11. Salsa, Week 5

a great dance! fun! good vibes! their first lift! followed by a bit that i like where nikita has to sort of kick layton upright again. loses points ONLY for being perhaps their least homoerotic dance, which one of them, i guess, has to be.

10. Tango, Week 6

all the ingredients for greatness are here. TANGO. HALLOWEEN. layton is in high goth drag. nikita looks a bit like paul gross as geoffrey tennant as hamlet in the flashback sections of slings and arrows s1. but weirdly i don’t think this dance quite lives up to the level of drama i expected from it. having just rewatched it i think it’s because they’re ACTING like it’s a MELODRAMA, and it FEELS like they’re acting, as opposed to the way they usually totally inhabit the narrative of a dance. however. the switch from this vibe into the denouement - the BACKFLIP (fuck!!!) - and then the breathy, drawn-out final moment, which they suddenly ARE inhabiting, braced over each other and staring into each other’s eyes like they are ON GOD going to fuck in the middle of the dancefloor, is astonishing. once again i am asking the bbc if this is what they thought they were going to air

9. Cha-cha-cha, Week 4

okay. we are entering the section of the list where everything from here on down pretty much makes me feral. layton is everything in that jumpsuit. the THROW into the SPLITS. the raw sexual dynamism somehow contained within nikita taking layton’s coat for him. unbearable.

8. Charleston, Week 12

off the charts crazy. how can people move like this. they CARTWHEELED across the STAGE for what felt like YEARS. points only deducted for the fact that when nikita cried in the interview afterwards because he loved layton so much he had to do it in this extremely silly outfit.

7. Quickstep, Week 2

they danced the equivalent of a gay leyendecker illustration in week 2. IN WEEK 2 THEY DID THIS. they’re having so much FUN here. and to follow up on the week 1 ranking, the transformation from them feeling like a professional and a celeb to two people actually dancing together happens SO fast. it’s only a week later, but already something’s changed; layton’s totally at home in the routine and nikita’s REALLY enjoying it. it’s just so nice and i love them so much :’) also the quickstep is one of my favourite strictly dances because it’s inherently funny watching grown adults run full-pelt around a room and occasionally do a little skip. perfect 90 seconds of television.

6. Viennese Waltz, Week 3

ok so this is actually one of their lowest scoring dances on the show. but NOT according to my ranking. this ought to feel as faux-dramatic as the vampire tango but it doesn’t. something is HAPPENING between them in this dance and it’s real. i could write paragraphs about the eternities contained within the long, long seconds of them holding each other after it’s over, which goes on for long enough that the editor just has to like. give up and cut away from them. i’ve been linking to the bbc’s youtube clips throughout this post, but if you have access to iplayer i strongly recommend you watch this dance as aired (i have linked to the timestamp for your convenience) in order to see the full effect of this ending. there’s something about the combination of… the sincerity of the dance. the gender of it all. the refusal to break character. nikita’s slightly baffled-looking parents in the audience lending whatever the fuck is going on here a bizarre frisson. i’m completely obsessed with it

5. Jive, Week 7

the first thirty seconds of this dance genuinely make me feel like i’m coming up. overwhelming transition from the sexy sexy opening section (why are they dressed as little sailor boys? why are they touching like that?) into the supercharged beat of the side-by-side. people pay good money to feel like this. as has been pointed out, the jive is not a traditionally racy dance, and my question to nikita as choreographer is: why

4. Showdance, Week 13

cunt. cunt. cunt. cunt. the absolute fucking serve of the matching slutty magician elbow-length gloves. nikita dropping his hat while layton executes everything perfectly. obviously in the finale, homophobia won <3 but my god. they ATE. no notes.

3. Paso Doble, Week 11

i have said this before. but dancing to BACKSTAGE ROMANCE. in a show where i (facetiously) believe they may be experiencing a BACKSTAGE ROMANCE. seems illegal. anyway. this dance is insane. almost worth them being in the bottom two in week 10 in order for them to produce the unbridled energy of this comeback. as a category the paso doble has similarly melodramatic energy to the tango, but this performance is so unlike the slightly campy vampire number; they’re IN it, they’re living and feeling and breathing every moment. something about the mood of this dance, the power dynamics of it, nikita on the floor looking up at layton in awe as he emerges at his absolute fucking fiercest - happening in THIS week, rising above the stress of relegation and the overwhelming tide of online hate, is, like, pretty incredible, tbh. also the series of searingly erotic snapshot poses at the beginning of this routine are among the worst things i have been subjected to on this show, and as you may be gathering from this list, this is a crowded category.

2. Argentine Tango, Week 8

god it was a TOUGH GODDAMN CALL on these top two places. and tbh i think this is actually, truly, their best dance. the sheer SKILL here… whatever the move is where layton has to jump in the air and kick his little leggies around… stunning. i don’t really have a comical paragraph to write about this because i genuinely think it’s an incredible piece of dance and there’s not much more to add to that. however, extra points for the truly unhinged decision to do some dom nikita roleplay at the end? again, please watch this one on iplayer to experience the full unedited effect.

1. Couple’s Choice, Week 9

as i say. probably, technically, the argentine tango is better. but if i think about any element of this routine, i immediately black out. i cannot stress enough that he is standing on his back. he is STANDING. on his BACK. nikita choreographed this dance and he was like. i want you to stand on my back. PLEASE don’t worry about it. watching this routine is like looking into the sun. if i saw two men doing this in the club i would have to politely turn away to respect their privacy. also sorry to do this for a final time but i also need you to watch this one on iplayer because nikita stays on that pole at the end for so much longer than you are expecting and then does something sooooo unnecessary. this dance should be expunged from the internet so that i never have to contemplate it again.

[laurentidal]

Ice Core Report ❄️ September 2024

September is over so let's do our monthly check in!

#1 Story: Come Get Me

While this isn't one that I'd had on my old blog, this is a story I wrote a long, long time ago. I'm glad to see it was so well received. A lot of my old writing would not be. (It wasn't very good or long). But this was one of the exceptions. I've always been quite fond of the image.

#2 Story: Monitored Activity

This was the surprise of the month I think. Maybe it's the fact that tumblr doesn't nerf a fully clothed image. Maybe you all just really enjoyed it! I hope it's the second!

#3 Story: Maid Service

This is the only story in the top 5 this month that's part of a series. I've been watching the analytics and you guys don't seem to vibe with series as much as the one-off's. Maybe that's just tumblr making it hard to navigate things, or me forgetting to add links before publication. I can't help that anything I write spins up into an entire world!!

#4 Story: Orientation

This is another oldie that wasn't on the old blog. This one absolutely had the potential to spin up into a multi-story arc. I even had 1 person DM me asking if there would be more. Sadly, I'm leaving this one as-is. At least for now. I've already got I think 6 active series running, each on generating less engagement with each iteration.

#5 Story: Let Your Hair Down

The first story of the month and probably my second favorite. I love this one and I'm very pleased to see it in the top 5. I had said on an ask that of all the stories I've written, I'd want to be the woman in this one most, and I stand by that.

Sunda Systems

I've taken a longer hiatus from Sunda than I'd originally anticipated. I am still working on it, but law school midterms are next week and I'm sure you all understand where my focus is and should remain.

Of Magics & Mesmerism

Still hammering away at this bad boy every spare second I can get. But to appease your appetites for now, here's a look at a few of the lower-level customization options for the "Entertainer" character class:

If anyone has any brainstorming ideas they think could be cool inclusions in the game, don't hesitate to reach out. I'm always looking for new ideas.

General Thoughts

My writing has slowed dramatically and I think starting this month, I'm going to move to an every-other-day schedule to more accommodate my school and work and social life. But don't worry there's still plenty to come. I love this community.

[cialovesklopp]

chapter one — mercedes amg

summary — contract signed, license accepted and off we go — it should have been that easy but the transition wasn’t. and now all hopes were resting on her. she truly hopes she won’t disappoint.

song — dead man walking [ brent faiyaz ]

warnings — none ( however if there is something that should have been, pls tell me )

word counts — 3.1k

cia’s quick rambles — so sorry for the long wait, so many things were happening and i completely forgot it with all the exams also coming up. however I got ahead of myself and finished the first two chapters. hope i have part three finished by next week. enjoy, this is just the beginning 🫶🏾

( masterlist / navigation / previous / next )

— august 2023

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

princessaaliyah

liked by evamueller, mercedesamgf1 and 8.927 others

princessaaliyah first day of work, wish me luck

view all 1203 comments

username so she’s the girl toto appointed as new chief technical engineer? ⤷ username i really wanna know why her ⤷ username she doesn’t exactly seem like the normal appointment

username am i the only one surprised, how quick people found her account ⤷ username same, like they are actually scaring me

mercedesamgf1 welcome on board aaliyah, we’re already looking forward to our time together  ⤷ princessaaliyah me too, thanks admin 

username so happy to see more and more diversity here ⤷ username definitely, f1 is going to fall off so hard when lewis retires

username she is so pretty and sweet

evamueller already miss you so much, it’s so boring here ⤷ princessaaliyah now you know how i felt when you did a month in greece  ⤷ evamueller taking the family jet now to come see you ⤷ princessaaliyah letting you know now that i’m broke and can’t bail you out this time ⤷ evamueller 😕

username i already love her ⤷username fr she seems to funny and sarcastic

susiewolff excited to meet you aaliyah, always nice to see a new female face ⤷ princessaaliyah thx susie, i’ve also heard so much about you ⤷ princessaaliyah think i’m hyperventilating 

username predicting it now, she’s gonna build a rocket ship

username i really hope she’s gonna be the female adrian newey and have lewis win his eighth ⤷ username never with the way mercedes has been for the past two seasons

username there’s something promising about her

username am i the only one who finds it weird that she just appeared in the middle of the season ⤷ username it’s called silly season for a reason

f1 welcome to the sport aaliyah  princessaaliyah liked this comment

username but why is there nothing about her? like her wikipedia page is almost blank, as if it’s been created yesterday ⤷ username maybe because she likes her privacy like normal people? ⤷ username apparently she’s still a student  ⤷ username how do u know? ⤷ username my cousin used to go to the same university, she also has a phd in physics and a bachelor in engineering already ⤷ username and she’s only 26

username this is gonna be a funny second part of the season

username just begging that she can finally give lewis his eighth ⤷ username and george his second win 

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

to say she was amazed was an understatement. standing in front of the official mercedes amg quarters had her star struck. even though it wasn’t her actual dream workplace, the place reeked of excellence. and it felt good to be part of that.  

just as expected it was raining in england which had her stepping out with an umbrella in her hand as she walked towards the modern complex. it was seven o’clock in the morning and the building's modern, metallic facade gleamed under the morning sun which had her breath hitch. it was beautiful and yet terrifying. 

she was doing this for him, she reminded herself. this was all for him— a gesture toward redemption, a way to ease the guilt that gnawed at her in the quiet of the night.

aaliyah smiled when she saw toto personally waiting for her at the entrance in a black team rain jacket. it fit his darth toto vibe perfectly. 

and how did she know about that? well, one good thing in her life was being an overachiever. she did not go anywhere unprepared and it was the same for her new job. between getting the offer and actually signing the work contract, she had done a full research into the world of f1 and all the lore that came with it. 

and how did she know about that? simple: overachievers like her never went anywhere unprepared. she had a knack for digging into the details, and when the job offer came, she didn't waste a second. between getting the call and signing the contract, she plunged into the world of F1, reading herself into all the lore that came with it.

she could call herself a brocedes expert now. 

“i’m happy to see that you made it.” he greeted her and the two walked inside. they passed teams of engineers and technicians moving with a synchronized efficiency that spoke volumes about their skill and dedication. 

the hum of activity, the whir of robotic arms, and the occasional rev of an engine being tested filled the air with an electric energy. he would have loved this, she thought and a small smile appeared on her face. 

this was her world, her area where she would excel. she had promised him that much and even though she was way out of her comfort zone, this was where everything came together and that created a new kind of comfort. the perfect mix of engineering and luxury cars. 

“this is bigger than i expected,” she mumbled, still feeling starstruck as they continued. many walls were decorated by massive tvs and pictures displaying the latest amg models in action, zooming through picturesque landscapes and roaring down racetracks.

toto laughed. “well, the best for the best right?”

“so what’s the plan for today? it’s seven thirty now and the only thing we’ve been doing is walk.”

“well the next race is soon so today, you’re going to see the car in its full glory for the first time. lewis and george should be arriving here soon so they can tell you a bit more about it.” 

of course, the two mercedes drivers she would meet for the first time today. she had read about them, instantly taking a liking to lewis. and she had found george to be very likable from what she had seen and heard of him. but meeting them in real life was always something else. 

it was crazy for her when she thought back that two months ago, she had just been aaliyah prince. engineering student at munich university. and now she could add the title of chef technical engineer to her resumé. her life had gone from zero to 180 in the span of a month and there was no going back. 

everything was already official, she had gotten her badge, she had signed her contract and the official f1 account had publicly announced the change. she was all in now. 

after a quick tour of the factory that had been specially arranged for her, she and toto entered a huge gallery where all of the previous race cars had been stored. she stopped in front of the famous w11, cautiously touching its rear wing while her heart started beating quicker. 

“impressive, huh?” 

she turned around and found toto smirking at her. 

“it’s definitely something. i think this was the most perfect car in f1 history, it did give lewis his seventh championship.”

there was something spark-like in toto’s eyes. “nice to know that you did your homework. and with you, i’m sure we’re going to get his eighth.”

she opened her mouth, wanting to say something before closing it again. she didn’t want it to sound wrong but she had to know. she needed assurance that her secret and past stayed hidden and buried six feet underground. 

“didn’t they ask questions? why you suddenly chose to recruit a twenty-something student from university?”

“i’m the boss, i get to do everything.” 

“i just mean, people will want to know where i am from, look me up. and that’s what scares me.”

“aaliyah, if this is about what I think it is — i’m the only person that knows about it and should know about it,” he began and closed the door to make sure no one could overhear them. “ we both talked about it, i handled it, don’t worry.”

“i just don’t want anything to come out,” said aaliyah, her voice much quieter. “and with me being a public person now—”

“you don’t want anyone to know that you have an iq of 171 and are a certified genius.”

she snorted sarcastically. “175 and believe me, my brain has been more of a curse than a gift to me.”

toto softly put a hand on her shoulder. “and i’m here for you now. i may be your boss but i’m also your friend. so if anything, and i really mean anything,” he emphasized, both knowing what they were referring to, “comes up, you tell me. call, or even come to my hotel room. there’s always a solution.”

the tour neared the end and toto led her to a special section with lots of computers and graphics. there were sketches and designs with specific attention to detail that amazed her in one way. aaliyah could feel a deep sense of admiration for the talent and dedication of her new colleagues.

and in the middle, in all its black beauty and glory stood two w14, one with a certain green-yellowish embroidering while the other had a blue one. she felt more than fascinated with them — this could become an obsession for her. staring at the car in front of her should have made her back out, maybe even run for the hills if the reports that she had read about mercedes and their w14 were true. 

but instead it sent her brain into overdrive. 

in her head she was already going over all the things she could experiment, of course under regulation of the other mechanics. this was the car she had to turn into a rocket ship and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited. 

maybe that's why she sometimes viewed her brain as a curse. it was a relentless force, endlessly questioning and analyzing, never quiet. it burdened her with insights and thoughts that felt overwhelming, leaving her longing for peace she rarely found.

she edged closer to the car, her fingers brushing against its surface, the sensation almost dreamlike. the touch brought back memories of those old sundays, when life felt simpler. she recalled sitting with her father on the couch, watching the races when the cable worked, and how he loved to point out the drivers to little aaliyah, who only understood the allure of the cars.

it made her miss her dad so much. 

the car itself was at first sight a masterpiece of combining aerodynamics and engineering with the law of physics. she could practically feel all the effort and research that had gone into developing it. her finger graciously traced the carbon fiber bodywork along, the coolness of the material sending a shiver down her spine.

her thoughts darted ahead, a whirlwind of possibilities for the car's transformation. she could already pinpoint some areas ready for modifications, envisioning tweaks and upgrades that might unlock new speeds, each idea a wave crashing against the limits of her own imagination.

aaliyah found herself so mesmerized by the car, she did not notice the two other persons enter the room. lewis and george were clearly surprised when instead of the expected elderly man, they found a young black woman standing in front of them, completely lost in her thoughts as she played with the car. they were clearly curious because except for her name, they didn’t know anything about her. 

“you must be aaliyah,” said lewis in a warm tone and she turned around, nearly jumping because of the two new presences in the room.

great, she had already ruined her first impression and and it was lewis hamilton standing in front of her. 

thank god she couldn’t spot a blush or else her face would have matched a ferrari car. “yes, that’s me, aaliyah. the new chief technical engineer. and for the record, in my head this went way better.”

they all laughed. 

george took a step forward and held out his hand. “george russell, a pleasure to work with you from now on.”

damn, he’s tall. was height a requirement to work here? 

lewis snorted. “believe me, i asked myself the same thing. 

again, thank the lord her skin was too dark to blush. “i didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

she suddenly felt small, smaller than she already was in company of the three men. lewis hamilton was beautiful, ethereal even — his iconic dreadlocks were neatly styled in a typical bun, he had beige trousers matched with the black team merch on and his fingers were adorned with all types of rings. but it was his smile that made him probably the most beautiful man she had ever seen. 

in other words, lewis reminded her of him. 

then there was george, whose tall frame and youthful energy were equally compelling and kind of attractive. she knew they would get along well, his smile was warm and genuine as they shook hands. it really did feel as if she could find her place here. 

“i’ll start again and just say, it’s an honor to be here. i can’t wait to work with you,” said aaliyah, smiling. 

“it’s great to meet you too, aaliyah,” george said, his handshake firm. “toto didn’t tell us much but looking forward to working with you.”

“it’s always great to see another female face working in this environment,” added lewis, a warm smile on his face. “and your hair looks amazing by the way. i love the afro.”

was she about to cry because the lewis hamilton complimented her hair? never. but was she about to have an allergic reaction because of that? perhaps. 

she passed a hand through her hair, untangling a few curls. “thank you, lewis. i appreciate the compliment.”

“always here if you need one, sweetheart,” he winked at her which had her laugh. 

they continued their small get-to-know-each-other as they discussed various aspects of the car and how the last races had gone for each of them. some of them were good, others horrible and manageable. the two drivers told her where they thought was the most to work on and the challenges they encountered concerning the speed. 

but as hopeful as they sounded, aaliyah knew she had to set limits to their dreams before she gave them too much and they would fall flat down on their arses. 

“boys, let me just say something,” her tone became a bit more serious, “from what i heard about the rules concerning changes, certain can give you penalties. the current setup is good, i already see some things i can change but i can’t do much for now because i need to see it in action.”

lewis nodded. “you’ll travel with us for the next races, won’t you? or will you work from the factory?”

“i think both, like i said, i need to see the car in action. so the next race, i’ll be there,” she explained. “also, i need to note that there may be several areas i believe that need significant changes from the reports i’ve been able to read. and not only will this take time but there’s a high likelihood we might need to take some grid penalties for those changed. i just want to make sure you’re both on board with this before we go any further with this.”

they exchanged a glance, both drivers listening thoroughly to what she had to say. they were already struggling and in a hard battle with the ferraris concerning the second place in the constructor’s championship. but on second thought, a few grid places lower were definitely manageable if it meant fighting at the top again. 

lewis was the first to nod again, this time towards her. “we’ll handle a few grid places. at this point, it’s anything to give those red bulls in front a fight and show them they’re not invincible,” he said firmly, determination clear in his tone. “we’ve been struggling with this car for a while now, the bumping may be gone but it’s still so slow. if you believe these changes will help us get back to the front, then we’re with you.”

“yeah, i absolutely agree. not going to lie, it’s been horrible driving this thing as it is. we trust your expertise, aaliyah. and if you think we need to take a step back to move forward, then that’s what we’ll do.”

aaliyah clapped her hands together. “that’s brilliant to hear. i promise i’ll do my best to give those red bulls a fight and make sure we come back as the famous silver arrows.”

she knew she could fix it—find the mistake and redo the equation. and if not for herself, then for him. there was no question in her mind; she was determined. she had never backed down from a challenge before.

[inklore]

after a year and a handful of months of debating on if i should, or wanted to, do commissions (and with some convincing and hyping from friends) i've decided why the heck not!

so to everyone whose ever complimented me and hyped me up for my themes and graphics thank you and you're definitely another driving force in this decision.

making graphics is therapeutic to me and i take a lot of pride and joy in doing it, from seeing everyone loving the things i create. and i want to share that pride and joy even more, sooo if you've ever struggled with making a good theme, feel too lazy to make one, need a banner for a fic or masterlist, a header, or just need someone to help your graphic vision come together; i'm here to provide!

before you commission something, or just want some examples, please check out my past work and portfolio!

PORTFOLIO | PINTEREST | ART TAG | GIFS

PLEASE THOROUGHLY READ THROUGH THE RULES!!!!

✶ all payments will be made through kofi or fiverr depending on what you're commissioning. if you'd rather go through paypal that is also a valid option just message me.

when it comes to commissioning anything details matter!!! i need complete details of what you want to be created. i will not accept something like 'floral vibe' or 'something with browns'. that gives me nothing. i need a vision, i need as much information as possible, examples (but do not take them from other creators please i will decline your commission), you can take inspo or examples from my own themes, or go through my pin board. the more details the better. the greater i can make your vision come into view. this is important!!!

i will not use other peoples art. do not ask for it to be included in whatever project i am creating. everything i make is for personal use only.

you will get two redos for me to change something you don't like about the theme. a preview of the finished product will be sent your way and you can ask for something to be completely re-done, but after that no changes will be made.

please include your user or where you want me to send your graphics within your request.

there's not a time span in which you have to use the theme or graphic for, but a week would be complimentary.

you can commission as many times as you wish after i've finished the first one.

for my own personal reasons minors are not allowed to commission things.

we do not have to be mutuals, nor do you have to be following me to commission something.

you don't have to outwardly give me credit but please do not claim my creations as your own.

if you have any questions before commissioning something my messages are always open and there is never a dumb question. please feel free to ask!

✶ fandoms i will not accept commissions for: anime, supernatural, our flags mean death, good omens (because i am not in them nor have enough knowledge on how to make the vision really suit said fandoms).

a full theme includes: a navigation banner and a header.

when commissioning a theme there are a few things that need to be mentioned and answered, so please include them in your request!

what kind of navi banner do you want? (refer to my portfolio for this, or if you just want something simplistic, big, small, medium, extra, messy, chaotic, etc)

what vibe are you going for? (dark academia, greek myth, ocean, dainty, horror, etc)

colors? (a must ok i need to know, if you give me none then i'm going to do whatever and choose what i think looks best and that's also fine if you want me to have complete creative liberties)

whats your overall vision? (can be included in the vibes section but giving me more detail is better)

text. (what do you want included on it, words, titles, information, quotes, etc)

examples. (like i mentioned in the rules examples are encouraged but do not take them from other creators on here and i will not copy, or make them look like someone else's work)

what kind of header do you want? (a simple png that goes along with the navi colors and vibe, a whole other banner-esk graphic, none, etc)

✶ see the add ons section below if you want more things included in your theme.

now these add ons are only for themes. if you commission a header only, or gif, they will have their own add on options.

$1 - for dividers that match your theme in color and vibe (if you want symbol, graphic, or anything that's not color then the price goes up a dollar)

$1 - three+ icon options (want the perfect icon to fit your theme and don't want to do the searching yourself? i got you)

$2 - content warning + minor dni banners (i'll make theme specifically to match your theme, with your user, and whatever you want them to say or look like etc)

$3 - layout + navi formatting (aka i'll come up with a completely new layout format for your navigation post + your bio)

$4 - a gif header or a gif included within the navi graphic (this is the highest price because finding clips, extracting scenes into caps, making the gif, coloring it to match the theme, blending, etc, is a lot lol)

a header commission includes: only a header. it is not a theme, just a mobile header, or a header for a masterlist, or fic.

the information needed for this commission are as listed below.

what kind of header do you want? (aka what is it for. this is important because the look is dependent on this information)

colors, vibes, vision. (more detail the better)

text. (if you want text on it, what do you want it to say, so title, etc)

examples. (not needed but a plus)

gif commissions include: gifs for your fics or masterlists. not for themes or headers.

depending on how you want these little moving pictures to look you gotta give some details.

fandom, character, scenes. (don't just say 'any scene' unless you truly want me to choose whatever scene lmao)

how many? (the current cut off is six, if you want more then there's an add on)

coloring. (you can completely leave this up to me but if you want them to be a certain color then please let me know, i'll also check with you before making all of them to make sure you like the coloring)

text. (want them to say anything? a title? subtitles? dialogue from your fic? your username on them? etc)

add on: blends. (want two characters or actors from different angles, scenes, or fandoms in the same gif? i got you)

add on: textures. (if you want added details such as a texture on the gifs then this will be extra, but i need to know what kind of texture / details you want added)

fic commissions: are only done through fiverr or paypal. if you are interested in commissioning a fic or any kind of writing then please refer to my fiverr and inquire over there or message me on here. thank you!!

✶REMEMBER TO MESSAGE ME WITH ANY QUESTIONS YOU HAVE BEFORE COMMISSIONING, NO MATTER THE TIME OR SUBJECT, I ENCOURAGE IT!

contact info: on tumblr, or discord: toldbylaur.

where to commission: kofi or pm me!

[gingernut1314]

The Agreement

Buggy x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (specifics in part warnings), use of y/n, canon typical violence, slight cheating (but like...not really?), matching chaotic vibes, reluctant love, a sex agreement, but also snuggle buddy agreement

A/N: omg I forgot how much I LOVED writing this series. It was too much funnn!!! And I gotta thank this series cause it was the first one piece fic I wrote on here.

↞ to Buggy the Clown Masterlist | One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Guide:

🧨 = NSFW ✔️ = Competed ⏳ = Coming Soon 🖋️= Ongoing

Song:

Circus Psycho Spotify | Youtube

The Agreement: ✔️

Part 1 🧨

The East Blue is a lonely place and Buggy the Clown, feared Captian of the Buggy Pirates, is just as lonely as you. Just as hurt and betrayed. So when you stumble upon him in a dirty bar, you two hit it off immediately. An immediate attraction that leads to the creation of the agreement. But can the agreement change? Can you forget the hurts from the past and change with it? {4.3K}

Part 2 🧨

It's been a month since you and Buggy created the new agreement. One very long month, and with yet another month to go until you could go find Buggy once more, you're spirits were at an all-time low. You wanted to be around him--to go off and find him, but your pride would hardly allow you to break this new agreement. But you knew of a loophole. A loophole you kept hidden under your bed in a fancy box. {3.0K}

Part 3 🧨

With only three weeks left in the new agreement, you have been missing Buggy more than ever, but you are not one to give in as easily...that is until your ship is attacked by marines. And with your crew's loss on the horizon, you take the contents of a certain silver box and swim all the way back to a nearby island. An island Buggy finds you on. Now back with Buggy, the new agreement is broken. But is a broken agreement going to stand in your way of being with him? Or will you allow the creation of a new, new agreement? {5.7K}

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (1/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, namjoon is pretty much not the nicest dude lol (will add more as it progresses), kinda sugar daddy au but not really. It will make sense I promise.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 7.9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do”

m. list || next

Taehyung’s house had a certain vibe to it.

A certain–je ne sais quoi–if you will.

The young artist had easels stacked against every wall. Some finished with his own creations and some waiting patiently for the young artists’ random bursts of inspiration. Everywhere you looked there was something in relation to his God given talent. Old paint brushes above the kitchen sink drying. Paint palettes disguising themselves as coasters. If you opened any drawer in his house you’d find all sorts of paints organized by brand or color scheme.

It was a mess. An organized mess, in which you could easily navigate yourself through. A huge juxtaposition to Namjoon’s almost soulless apartment. Yet, if you knew the artist long enough you’d know that his apartment screamed Kim Taehyung, renowned, self-made artist. A charming man like no other. Who loved throwing parties just as much as he loved getting lost in his art.

A party for every occasion. And tonight’s party was an innocent friendship anniversary between you Jimin and Taehyung. Fifteen years strong, thirty percent of fifty and just as important according to Taehyung himself.

The only reason Namjoon had known about it was through the Facebook invite he had received from the party crazed menace himself. The only other reason he even knew Taehyung in the first place was through his younger step brother–Jungkook. And the only reason Jungkook came to know Taehyung was through the girl he copied his history notes from all sophomore year of college–you.

Everything always came back to you, and your ability to always be there. It’s why Namjoon decided to put a tiny pause in his research on the Metaphysics and Epistemology in some of his favorite Korean Artists’ work. Not like he could focus on it anyway. His parents were starting to get impatient, breathing down his neck, wondering when he would finally leave his life as a very eligible bachelor and settle down.

It’s not like he didn’t try to find someone. The problem was that he did. He tried everything. Blind dates, dating apps, even went out to the club a few times foolishly thinking he’d find his next wife. Everything ended in a failure which was why he was here, looking for you, and a promise made long ago. One he had agreed to.

Truthfully he had forgotten all about it until recently when he was laying down on his bed, surrounded by his navy sheets, wide awake because he had drank too much coffee. Five cups, the same amount the two of you had consumed that afternoon in the old coffee shop located just in between his apartment and your parents house.

As if on autopilot his body jolted awake again, eyes shooting wide as the memory came flooding in.

“If we aren’t married in ten years time, let’s just marry each other.” You suggested; like it was the greatest idea ever. Your hands were shaking from all the caffeine you had consumed and your eyes were red rimmed and wide from all the crying you had done. It matched his own as well.

A part of him hates that he had agreed to it, but could you blame him? He was distraught over the fact that his girlfriend of four years had blindsided him with the whole “It’s not you, it’s me,” speech; and a nice chocolate cake to soften the blow. That did anything but that, and instead he had cried until he had to meet up with you for your weekly tutoring session.

It’s where he noticed your red rimmed eyes and the watery snot coming down your nose. He didn’t ask about it, just offered you a piece of his break up cake and a listening ear when you were ready. It wasn’t until the third college algebra problem he had you doing that you broke down, and told him everything. From the moment you laid eyes on your ex. To the moment you realized you loved him and to the final heartbreaking seconds when you found him cheating on you with his calculus professor.

It was a wild revelation, one that had you spewing things out of disparity. Including the cliche marriage pact.

In truth, Namjoon wouldn’t have given it a second thought when he finally remembered that afternoon. He would’ve pushed it to the back of his head like he had for years and tried a different dating app. But just like that afternoon, he was desperate. This time for a different reason.

He was running out of time, especially after the last conversation he had with his father. His future and livelihood were on the line. Including the large sum of money and the prestigious job at his Alma Mater as the head Philosophy professor.

Now, sitting on Taehyung’s paint splattered leather couch. He hopes you remember. It’s been years since he’s last seen you. You still look the same, pretty enough to be passable but plain. There’s nothing exciting about you. Even now that he’s watching you from across the room in a short lavender dress, with white leather knee high boots. Your hair is shorter, up to your shoulders and a different color from your natural one. Your arms and chest glitter due to the body glitter you had lathered on.

Even though you sparkle underneath Taehyung’s dim lights. To Namjoon you’re still dull, lacking excitement compared to all the women he’s met in his life. Sure, he sounds like an asshole but he couldn’t deny the truth. It’s one of the reasons why he never found you attractive and also because you were Jungkook’s best friend; and Namjoon knows that there’s a rule out there which states that a brother’s best friend is strictly off limits.

He should’ve felt at least a little bit bad about your confession to him all those years ago. For a while he couldn’t get the heartbroken look on your face out of his head when he told you he didn’t feel the same. Only to be quickly replaced by anger for all the accusations you so wrongly threw at him.

Namjoon didn’t lead you on. You had read too much into things. He was nice to you because he saw you as a little sister. Not a potential partner.

Pretty ironic because now he’s hoping the joking pact made between the two of you was serious. Otherwise, accepting Taehyung’s invitation would’ve been useless.

He didn’t necessarily need a wife. Only a placeholder for a wife until further notice. To buy him enough time and get his parents off his back. He’s so desperate that he’s considering pulling out all the stops. Money, a house, and the job of your dreams.

Anything to get you to agree.

Now, all he needs to do is hope for the best, while simultaneously expecting the worst. From the small snippets of stories he hears Jungkook tell his mom. You’re still a little similar to what he remembers. Just a tiny bit more confident and outgoing. That much he could’ve figured out on his own, especially now that he’s been studying you from across the room. It should be easy enough to convince you; but of course that’s only if Namjoon lived in a perfect world.

Unfortunately he doesn’t and time is ticking and your friend–Jimin–hasn’t left your side all night. You’re on your third drink, your eyes are slightly dropping with intoxication. And with the way you keep laughing at whatever the other man keeps whispering in your ear, he assumes you’re well on your way to pure drunkeness. It makes the hold he has on his glass tighten. With A fiery hot spark coursing through his body the more you cling onto Jimin.

Namjoon isn’t aware of your relationship status. Selfishly he hopes you’re single so things run more smoothly. And seeing you make doe eyes at someone else in front of him makes him a little bit angry.

Only because he wants to avoid the drama at all costs. He values the peaceful quiet, and to be honest he doesn’t have the patience to deal with someone else’s jealousy. Fighting over women was so high school and he has better things to do than that. But he’s also stubborn and once his mind is set on something he will knock down anyone in the way.

He’s confident that by the end of the night–that’s if he gets you alone–he will leave Taehyung’s cliche artists looking humble abode with you as his fiance.

Well…Fake fiance.

The moment Namjoon stood up to use the bathroom he knew he had made a mistake. Not only was his spot on the couch taken by one of Taehyung’s artist friend; but he had broken the seal and you and that Jimin guy were nowhere to be found.

This was the third time he had to use the bathroom in the past thirty minutes. He hopes his bladder is empty enough to last him an hour or so. But Namjoon has been in this game for far too long and he knows that once the seal was broken there was no going back.

“Took you long enough.”

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours just as he’s a foot out of Taehyung’s guest bathroom. The hand he had hovering above the light switch falls down to his side. A knowing smirk makes its way onto your lips, while you push yourself off the far wall.

He’s at a loss for words because sure he’s been waiting to get you alone all night. Yet, now that he has, you’ve caught him completely off guard. What’s worse is that you’ve caught him off guard in the most vulnerable place known to mankind.

The bathroom.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to move?” The indifference lingering in your voice brings him back down to the moment at hand. He blinks a few times to regain his focus and soon enough he’s looking down at you.

You’re standing inches away from him. Close enough to smell your perfume. A scent he remembers so clearly, yet it’s slightly different because it has mingled with another one. A more masculine one. He assumes he knows who the culprit of such intrusion is, a certain individual with a crescent laugh and pillowy lips; but he chooses not to focus on that. Right now he has a chance. A gateway to a forbidden conversation and his only opportunity to just get it over with.

Namjoon mumbles a short apology while stepping to the side giving you enough room to walk in, barely grazing each other. He doesn’t get a chance to actually think his actions through before his body is responding on autopilot. Next thing he knows he’s stepping in behind you, closing the door behind him and locking it.

Your turn around, eyes full of surprise. Namjoon needs fight the smirk threatening to break across his face. You’re the one caught off guard now, in the bathroom and it gives him some sort of twisted sense of satisfaction.

Ha.

“If you weren’t done using the bathroom you could’ve just s–.”

“We need to talk.” He brushes you off, waving a hand around almost as if he were pushing your words out of the way to make room for his.

You sigh, rolling your eyes in annoyance. If it wasn’t for the few drinks you’ve already had and the taxing conversation you just finished having with Jimin about the state of your relationship–If you could even call it that. You would've fought against Namjoon. Then again he was the least of your worries, you assume he wants to talk about your past, ask how you’ve been. All that jazz. So, why not play into it?

Right?

“Fine, I mean there are other places in which we can talk. Tae’s house is pretty big.” You shrug, taking a seat on the closed toilet seat, crossing your arms in front of you. Waiting for him to start reminiscing about your past.

When he doesn’t, you take matters into your own hands. “So, how have you b–”

“I don’t have time for that.” Namjoon interrupts and you have to force all of the anger currently bubbling up inside of you, down. “I have a proposal for you.” He finishes, walking closer and leaning his right hip against the bathroom counter.

You squint your eyes suspiciously while looking up at him. They always say curiosity killed the cat and maybe that’s what it will do to you in the end but you urge him to continue. Slightly interested in what he has to say.

“We need to get married.” He says softly like it literally pains him to be saying those exact words out loud. Suddenly while the words are vanishing into the air between the two of you, the bathroom starts to feel hollow. He continues, “We made a pact that if we weren’t married by thirty, we’d just marry each other. You’re almost thirty and I have been thirty for a while, so, let’s just do it…wait, I mean we don’t actually have to go through with it just pretend for a while, just long enough to convince my parents an–”

Namjoon stops his not so smooth ramble. Confused is an understatement. He’s downright baffled watching you double over in laughter. A sound that used to bring a bright smile to his face. Now, as it bounces off the four walls of Taehyung’s tiny guest bathroom he can’t help but cringe.

“You c-can’t be s-serious,” You say, hand against your chest trying to calm yourself down. When you do, a snarky smirk threatens to appear on your face.

With a tilt of your head you say “How much have you had to drink?”

Namjoon scoffs. Sure he’s had a bit to drink but not enough to be drunk. Tipsy maybe, but not drunk. “Three whiskeys,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

You tongue your cheek nodding your head. “Explains why you’re out here saying utter bullshit.”

To keep himself from bursting out in anger he grips the counter with most of his strength. “I’m not drunk. I never get drunk off whiskey.”

You chuckle, giving him a side glance. “Sure you don’t. All those times you snuck into my room at three in the morning because you had too much whiskey were because you weren’t drunk.” The sarcasm laced in your voice annoys him the most.

Okay there were times in which he would have too much to drink and always ended up crashing at your place. Sneaking out before your parents woke up, but those were special circumstances. His taxi app only had your address saved for when he had to call one for you whenever you and Jungkook drank at his place. It was too much of a hassle to save his own, especially because the only time he remembered to save it was when he was drunk.

Defeated, he replies, “Whatever that’s not important, I’m serious when I say that we need to get married.” He hopes he sounds as convincing as he perceives. Though, the look on your face says otherwise. You’re confused and probably a little more upset than he can tell.

A dry laugh escapes you and you stand up shaking your head. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re planning but you’re a lot smarter than this. Considering the way we parted ways and haven’t talked in years because of it, what makes you think I would agree to this?” You stand in front of him, almost sizing him up, burning your gaze into his.

“Just hear me out okay.” He puts his hands out, making space between the two of you. You raise your eyebrows in amusement and wait for him to continue. “My parents are breathing down my neck asking me when I’ll finally settle, in which I have no desire to do so anytime soon. But my dad’s health is getting worse and he says that if I don’t get married he will make sure I’m left jobless and out of the will.” He finishes, breathing out an exasperated sigh. He feels so out of breath, almost like he just finished running a marathon; but maybe that’s just because he’s awkwardly close to you.

There’s a slight pause before you’re bursting out laughing again, holding onto your stomach as you double over. Namjoon can feel the annoyance he had done so well at keeping down, threatening to leave him disguised in fiery hot words he’s kept hidden for a long time. He always hated having serious conversations with you. You never took shit seriously, it's one of the reasons why he would never see you as someone he’d be interested in romantically. More so because you’re so dramatic in every sense of the word and he has no idea how he put up with it for so long.

“Are you done?” He takes his hands out of his pockets running them multiple times through his hair before crossing his arms in front of him.

You wipe a fake tear away from the corner of your eye and straighten up. “Yeah, I’m done and the answer is no.” You roll your eyes turning to face the door. This was the icing of the cake. Not only was he adding to the long list of problems you already had, but he’s making your night worse than it already was.

Jimin and you had been secretly–not so secretly–seeing each other for a while now, in ways two childhood friends should never be seeing each other. Spending nights tangled up in each other under pale ivory sheets, and days acting like nothing was wrong. When in reality everything was wrong. It was inevitable that someone was going to start seeing the other as more than a friend. The only problem was that you had always assumed it’d be you and not him. That he’d finally be the one to break through the cold ice caging your heart in when Namjoon inexplicably broke it.

In which the latter was now playing some cruel joke on you. All you wanted to do was to go home. Escape underneath your warm sheets, and avoid the world as much as you were allowed too. Even if Jungkook had let you know ahead of time that his darling step brother was going to make an appearance. It had not prepared you for this.

Namjoon’s eyes go wide and he won’t lie, he's panicking now. “But we promised.”

“Yes Namjoon, we did. But we were young, stupid and heartbroken.” You cross your arms staring directly into his eyes. “Maybe if we were still friends my answer would be different, but we aren’t. So, my answer is no.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours Namjoon. You broke every promise you made me and you expect me to just waltz back into your arms and share a life with you?” You say ludicrously.

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a frustrated sigh, “Look, let's set aside our differences–”

You let out a humorless laugh, cutting him off. “You’re a smart man Namjoon, but this is literally the dumbest thing I have ever heard you say.”

Namjoon has to fight every fiber in his being to not stomp his foot on the ground like a child. He’s now realizing you aren’t the same person that he used to call best friend. You’re even more stubborn than before and kind of a bitch.

“What if I can convince you?”  

“How? Are you going to take me out on a date?” You exclaim, standing up and walking towards him. “The answer is no, I’m the wine and dine type, and I’ve heard that you’re not.” You reach your hand past his body and take hold of the doorknob. You’re only able to unlock it because as soon as you try to open it, Namjoon is leaning his entire body against the door. Arms splayed out like a cactus blocking every possible way out.

“A job, I can offer you a job.” He rushes out through labored breaths, like this entire situation is causing him to lose the ability to breathe. Maybe it is. Maybe he’s forgotten how impossible you could be. Or maybe he hates the way you’re looking at him like he’s now worth your time.

The boredom on your face is replaced with intrigue. Like he’s said the magic words and now has you under his spell. It disgusts him because ever since he could remember people have only flocked to him out of personal gain. You used to be someone who made sure he was more than just his brains, looks and money. Yet, you’re standing in front of him ready to listen because now you can take from him too.

“My department is looking for a new rhetoric professor, the job is yours if you agree to this.” He finishes, watching your face light up with joy to then shut down immediately as soon as you realize the undisclosed requirement for the job.

You scoff, shaking your head. It’s tempting, it’s your dream job. As much as you want to agree. You know that working in the same vicinity as him will do more harm than good. Plus nepotism isn’t always a good look.

“No,” You say firmly pushing your side body into his to scoot him out of the way. It’s unsuccessful, he’s as still as a stone pillar and you hate that you can tell how firm he’s gotten over the years. Jungkook often told you about his gym sessions with Namjoon every other day. Now, you see that it’s not just Jungkook who’s been benefiting from them.

“I’ll pay off half of your student loans along with the job, and you can have one of the house's dad owns” He tries, sounding more hopeful than you have ever heard him sound.

Again, it’s tempting but again that would make you tied to him longer than you would like. So, this time you push against him with all the strength you can muster making him stumble as your answer. You open the door slightly and squeeze yourself out, leaving him hanging.

Namjoon is in the air and he panics, he rushes out behind you matching your sped up steps. He grabs your hand pulling you into Taehyung’s bedroom, closing the door behind him and blocking it with his body.

“God, you are so fucking annoying Namjoon. I said no, why can’t you understand that?” You whisper yell, running a hand through your hair.

“Because I need you.” He says matching your tone, sighing and relaxing against the door. “I’m supposed to have brunch with my parents on Sunday, please just think about it.” He begs, clasping his hands in front of him.

It’s the first time you see him like this, and it’s selfish of you to admit that it feels good. His entire future relies on you and only you. Maybe you will give in, but seeing him suffer a little longer feels to good, especially when you know you’re his last option.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll drop it but the job is still yours, your essay and resume were impressive.” He finishes and exits the bedroom, leaving you behind with one more thing to add to your ongoing list.

One thing is for sure.

You’re in a big mess.

Sleep didn’t come to you all night. The minute you left Namjoon behind in Taehyung’s bedroom you had left without saying goodbye to anyone. Jungkook had followed you out and walked you home without uttering a single word the entire time. Instead, he tried his best to match your heated steps. He even stayed over, taking his rightful spot on your living room couch.

He made you coffee in the morning and a small breakfast before walking to the flower shop together for your morning shifts. The silence between the two of you lasted almost an hour until he finally broke and the questions came flooding out.

You had to give him credit he was persistent. He kept going on about it, annoying both you and Yoongi. If it wasn’t for the latter threatening both of your jobs you would’ve taken the events that took place the night before to the grave.

“I think you should do it.” The flower shop owner says, shrugging his shoulders.

“No, that’s stupid, why would she want to deal with that bullshit?” Jungkook exclaims. Yoongi brushes him off, rolling his eyes. Both of them have been arguing in front of you like you didn’t exist, while you finished the last order of flower bouquets for the night. An order placed for Yoongi but instead he was sitting on the counter, reading a GQ magazine while Jungkook paced back and forth with his apron hanging from his arm.

“Well she’s single and getting a good deal out of it so why not?” He shrugs, flipping to a new page, rubbing his chin.

“She has Jimin, things are strange now but they’ll figure it out.” Jungkook is almost hopeful. Though, he was protective of you and had a few choice words to share after he caught you and Jimin together. He still preferred him over his arrogant step brother. Especially when it came to you. Jungkook had witnessed first hand what he had done to you.

“From what I’ve heard, she doesn’t have Jimin.”

You sigh, cutting the end of a rose before placing it with the rest of the flowers. “I am still here you know, does my opinion not matter?” You press your palms into the marble counter. They had been going back and forth for nearly an hour like the issue was theirs. Shutting you down whenever you wanted to get your word in and you were fed up. You had nearly ten hours to decide whether to go to Sunday brunch or not.

Even if you didn’t end up going, Namjoon had texted you that he needed to know your decision on the job by tomorrow morning. So, you were currently battling two problems at once, in which you haven’t heard any helpful advice from your best friend or coworker.

“I mean of course it does, but as much as I love him he’s an asshole who only cares about money Bunny.” Jungkook pouts, flinging his apron onto the counter and leaning against it. Yoongi sighs and closes the magazine, setting it to the side.

“Yes Kook but this is my dream job. If I have to deal with him to get to where I want to be then I will.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair, giving up on the bouquet and shoving the materials in Yoongi’s direction. Indirectly telling him it was his turn now.

Yoongi hops off the counter and walks behind you. “She’s right, our little genius deserves to do bigger and better things with that brain of hers. And I agree with her but also if he’s willing to be your sugar daddy why not?” He shrugs, grabbing the clippers and a daisy, expertly cutting the end of the stem off.

You roll your eyes, “first of all he will not be my sugar daddy and second of all I haven’t agreed to that part of the deal, just maybe the job.” You shrug, untying your apron and placing it on the coat rack behind you.

“But you want to agree to it.” Yoongi chuckles before Jungkook can get a word in. Sometimes you hate how well Yoongi can understand you in all aspects of your life. He’s only been in it for a few years and he’s able to tell you exactly what you’re thinking and articulates it way better than you. In all honesty it scares you a bit.

“Am I crazy for considering it?”

“Yes,”

“No,”

They say at the same time making you groan in frustration. The shop had closed and here the three of you were having an extensive conversation about your unfortunate personal life. When all you wanted to do was go home and eat a nice bowl of cereal on your bed.

Jungkook sends a glare in Yoongi’s direction, grabbing hold of your shoulders gently. “You know I love you and I will support you in anything you do, but this is a little crazy. And before you ask me if I trust you the answer is yes I do. But I don’t trust him. I don’t trust him to keep his distance like I know you will. He will lead you on again and then we'll be back to square one.” He squeezes your shoulders before bringing his hands down to his sides.

“Jungkook she’s not dumb, I’m sure whatever she decides to do it’s because she knows what she’s getting into.” Yoongi adds on, tying up the bouquet before handing it off to you. “For your fake mother in law.” He winks.

“What?” You say taking it from his hands.

“Namjoon requested it this morning, I just put it off because I don’t like him.” He shrugs, bringing a slight smile to your face. The flower shop might as well be named the ‘Anti Namjoon Club’ instead of ‘Euphoria’ for the amount of times Jungkook ranted about his step brother to the two of you at all hours of the day.

It's unfortunate that part of you made a decision the minute you left Namjoon alone in Taehyung’s bedroom. And it’s unfortunate that you only truly considered their opinions to justify your already made decision.

Jungkook gives you a slight smile before walking past you, shoulders dropping in defeat because he knows you’ve decided. “You better be ready by the time I come pick you up. Mom takes Sunday brunch a little too seriously so if we are a minute late she will have my head on a stake.”

Is the last thing Jungkook says before disappearing behind the curtain towards the back. You turn to Yoongi, tilting your head to the side pouting lightly.

“Don’t look at me like that, you big baby. You’re a big girl you know what you’re getting into but because Jungkook can’t completely hate his brother. If he does anything to hurt you I’ll hate him for the two of you.” He sends you a wink, clicking his tongue before turning to the cash register.

You whine, stomping your foot on the ground before mumbling “My life sucks,” which only makes Yoongi laugh.

“At some point everyones does.”

You’re nervous.

You haven’t been this nervous since you decided to intern at a preschool right after graduation.

Kids are intimidating  and although Jungkook’s parents aren’t, the situation at hand feels like it. Especially when they think you’re attending Sunday brunch because Jungkook finally managed to convince you.

Not because you’re about to conspire against them for purely selfish reasons.

Despite their wealth and social status, Mr. Kim and Mrs. Jeon are the kindest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. They always went out of their way to make you feel like you’re part of the family. It got to the point that you would split holidays with them and your family, as they always made it a point to get you something for Christmas, your birthday or Lunar New Year.

So, it feels wrong to be helping out Mrs. Jeon and the family maid—Lia in the kitchen. It feels wrong to be laughing at the petty arguments Jungkook is having with his father in the living room. It feels wrong to have been welcomed with such bright smiles and tight hugs, because if it weren’t for Namjoon (who hasn’t arrived and is desperately blowing up your phone) you wouldn’t have been here at all.

“How many times have I told you guys to fix the doorbell?” Namjoon’s voice booms in through the living room. “I’ve been knocking for a solid five minutes.” He finishes accompanying his statement with a soft laugh. You stop chopping the carrot Lia had assigned to you, it will have to wait. You have approximately two seconds to either hide or melt into a puddle of nerves.

Mrs. Jeon squeals like a tiny school girl, gently placing the whisk she had been using to stir the pancake batter to the side. She wipes her hands against her dirty custom maid YSL apron and walks to the entrance of the kitchen.

In truth you’re frozen, knife still in your hand, shaking a little bit. It’s definitely the nerves. You should’ve planned it out a bit more. You shouldn’t have ignored the man of the hour because you were feeling a little–very–petty. He didn’t know you were here and you certainly weren’t ready for his reaction.

“Namu, we thought you weren’t coming.” You hear Mrs. Jeon say followed up by a grunt. You supposed he has been reeled into one of her bone crushing hugs. They were deadly but warm and one of your favorite things about the woman.

“I’m sorry, I meant to reply to the e-vite on Facebook but I got busy.” He replies. “I didn’t know dad knew how to do those by the way.”

“He watched a Youtube video.” Jungkook replies with a chuckle. “I was there.” He adds.

“I didn’t know you were coming either, Kook.” Namjoon says, and you can almost hear the eyebrow raise of pure confusion. If he’s as smart as he claims to be he should know why he is here. Use his highly acclaimed critical thinking skills, but he doesn’t.

Not until a couple minutes later when he walks in through the kitchen with his mother in arm, wearing possibly the most attractive outfit you have seen him in. A black skin tight turtleneck with black slacks. Coincidentally it matches your own outfit–a light white turtleneck under a black dress. It adds to the growing annoyance you feel bubbling inside of you. Even if you’ve been frozen in anticipation. You still feel it.

The second his icy stare meets yours you feel like you’re about to turn into an actual icicle. He’s surprised, that much you can tell with the way he’s stopped walking. He’s faltering. Though, just in typical Namjoon fashion he regains his composure smoothly and approaches you. Stopping right in front of you and leaning his forearms against the marble counter.

“Now I see why you haven’t been able to answer me.” He grabs one of the carrot sticks that you’ve managed to cut into perfectly, and bites into it, sending you a cheeky wink. You feel your breath catch itself in the back of your throat because why was that kind of hot. He doesn’t let you respond before he’s pushing himself away and rounding the corner. He walks behind you, his body purposely brushing against yours making you grip the knife handle.

You know he’s doing this on purpose and you want to scream at him, but that would somehow be inappropriate. Plus, he hates being confronted with the truth. You know that very well. Hence why the two of you haven’t spoken in years, because you told him the truth about his actions towards you and he hated every second of it, calling you dramatic and unworthy of romance.

Well, he didn’t necessarily say those words exactly, but they were implied.

“Sweetie, we need the carrots.” Lia’s voice brings you back down to Earth. She had just finished scolding the older menace for trying to take one of the fried tofu cubes.

You shake your head, trying your hardest to remove the whole interaction with what you suppose is now your fake fiance–from your head. You grab another full carrot. “Sorry Ms. Lia, I am almost done.”

“Aish, how many times do I have to tell you that Lia is just fine.” The maid shakes her head, turning down the heat.

Mrs. Jeon and Namjoon laugh. You smile chopping into the peeled carrot carefully.

“Don’t worry my Lia, I have been trying to get her to call me mom for years.” The older woman says, with a shroud of sympathy laced in the back of her voice.

Namjoon takes this as his cue to leave as he makes his way towards the kitchen entrance. Before he fully exits he turns around, locking eyes with you. “Don’t worry mom, I'm sure she will do so soon.” He sends you another wink and leaves.

You want to scream.

The breakfast menu for The Kims and Jeons signature Sunday Brunch is always quite special and incoherent.

Today’s menu consists of Americanos, Mimosas, Fried Tofu–a staple–Breakfast Burritos, Cinnamon Carrot Pancakes, and a plate of fruit. So far, everything has been going smoothly, except for the fact that you and Namjoon are in charge of setting the table.

“I thought you weren’t going to come.” Namjoon breaks the ice first, placing the final chopsticks on top of a pastel pink napkin. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.” He cockily adds standing up straight and crossing his arms in front of his chest. Somehow making his very toned pecs pop out more than they already did in the stupid skin tight shirt.

You roll your eyes, placing down the plate of pancakes in the middle. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m only agreeing because of the job and money.” You dust your hands when you finish and put your hands on your hips.

He squints his eyes in suspicion before nodding his head. “Sure, you are. Let’s see how long you can go without throwing yourself at me.” He voices. You truly should be considered God’s strongest warrior because how have you not killed the man in front of you yet.

Sure, that’s something that would’ve been a given back then. Now, you’re not so sure. You can barely stand being in the same room as him before wanting to jam a knife in between his perfect chest. You’re not going to lie, he is still as good looking as he was back then, maybe even more, but his shitty attitude ruins it. You also have never been the type of girl to throw herself at a man or seek their validation. Even if once upon a time that’s something you wanted from Namjoon. It’s not something you want now.

“You’re so fucking annoying. I do pray for the woman you do end up marrying.” You say lowly, looking around the perfectly set table. Though, Mrs. Jeon and Lia only told the two of you to do the silverware and plates. Your stubborn attitudes insisted otherwise and ended up doing the whole thing while they took a small break in the living room.

Namjoon snaps his fingers and closes the distance between the two of you. “Speaking of marriage, we have to tell them today.” He says low enough for only you to hear and not raise any suspicions to the incoming crowd making their way outside.

Your eyes blow up as you look up at him, “what? Namjoon no, I’m not ready. I mean we haven’t actually discussed everything sober and we barely talked about it when we were drunk.” You say alarmed, anxiety crashes through you in a strong wave. You start to panic as everyone starts to take their seats.

“I got it,” he nods, pulling out the chair and gesturing for you to sit. Jungkook takes the seat in front of you, raising his eyebrows. You know he’s silently asking if you’re okay. In which you aren’t but you can’t voice it now that everyone has found their perspective positions. You shake your head as discreetly as possible and sit down, Namjoon next to you plastering his best fake smile.

He would’ve been a damn good actor with the facade he’s quickly able to put on.

Maybe that’s what he should’ve done instead of becoming a professor.

It’s silent for a while, the only thing being heard is the clanking of utensils against the ceramic plates. That is until Mr. Kim clears his throat and Namjoon basically turns into a stone pillar next to you. Freezing in the middle of cutting into his cinnamon carrot pancakes–which were surprisingly delicious.

“I didn’t want to bring it up, especially since we have a guest joining us today.” He smiles over at you, and you offer him a grin. “I got news from the doctor yesterday and he wants me to start chemo next week.” He falters a bit before setting down his utensils and whipping his mouth with the table cloth on his lap. “I told him it was useless to just let me live my last few months or however long I have left in peace, but your mom and I argued about it and we came to a compromise.” He nods, placing a delicate hand on top of his wife’s, looking over at her with matching teary eyes.

You feel like you’re intruding and you likely are, but this revelation only makes the guilt grow. “I will do it and if the cancer shrinks then so be it, but if it doesn’t then there’s nothing I can do but live in peace.” He grins, bringing her palm up to his lips and kissing it gently, before turning to face his son.

“I don’t mean to pressure you son, I know it's difficult finding the one, but can you at least try.” He all but whispers the last part. Namjoon shrinks. You’ve never seen him so quiet in your life. Even when the two of you got along, he always had something to say. He hated pockets of silence because it always made him think. Namjoon hates thinking, unless it's about philosophy. He always said it was because his most inner thoughts always managed to break the surface whenever there was silence.

He’s looking down at his lap and you notice the way he clenches his fists before lifting his head up. “I understand.” He starts looking over at you for a second and turns his attention to his step brother and parents. “I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to tell you both this.” He takes hold of your hand underneath the table, slipping something onto the palm of your hand and pulling away.

You take a second to look down, almost choking on your spit when you see the emerald ring staring back at you. It’s starting to feel real and Namjoon hasn’t even said anything yet. But his mothers wedding ring is staring up at you, and suddenly you’re hit with the realization of what is about to conspire.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

The panic builds up and you feel like you’re about to throw up. Everything is closing in on you and it only gets worse when he says the next few words. “I’m engaged, I’m getting married.”

The gasps are heard all around the outside patio. Except for Jungkook who has been quiet the entire time. Sometimes living in Namjoon’s shadow had its perks. He could get tattoos, grow out his hair, ride a motorcycle, and study whatever the fuck he wanted, because nobody expected anything from him.

He’s thankful and a little bit angry that he didn’t try hard enough to convince you to not fake a marriage with his step brother, but he knows better and stays quiet even though he’s dying to expose the scam to his parents. To show them that their perfect son was far from that and had way more demons hidden away than he let on.

“You’re what?” Mrs. Jeon says, the tears she tried so hard to keep hidden start to spill out. You suppose it’s a mixture of happiness and sadness. “Why isn’t she here, Namu, why didn’t you bring her over?” She’s about to stand up, when you lift your hand, this time adorning the ring on your finger.

You swallow, “It’s me.” You take a deep breath looking into his parents' very shocked faces. “I’m sorry I didn’t want him to tell you so soon, but you know how little patience he has.” You finish, grinning softly letting your hand fall down to your lap.

Mrs. Jeon lets out a sob before she stands up quickly, gesturing for the two of you to stand too. “Congratulations my loves, I’m so happy for the two of you.” She stops in front of you bringing you in into a bone crushing hug, making you laugh as you hug her back. “I knew the two of you were going to one day end up together, Kookie and your dad always told me I was crazy, but look who was right all along.” She says pulling back, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks and turns to face the two men still sitting down. “A mothers intuition is never wrong.” She practically scolds before moving back to her seat.

Namjoon and you stand there awkwardly for a second before sitting back down. Mr. Kim clears his throat again, patting his chest a little. Almost as if he was warming up his voice to speak. “I’m sorry, I’m just shocked.” He says before breaking out into a dimpled smile–the thing that made you fall for his son all those years ago. They were both a carbon copy of each other. With the expectation that his father was a lot warmer.

“Congratulations, wow, I’m so happy you guys are truly perfect for one another.”

“Really, I don’t see it.” Jungkook finally chimes in ruining the moment, earning a pinch to the arm from his mother. He yelps out in pain dramatically cradling his arm and pouting. “It’s the truth, they’re weird together.”

“And you’re weird for coming over every wednesday so I can do your laundry.” His mother retorts, deepening his frown. “Now, apologize.”

Jungkook squints his eyes in annoyance at his mother. He’s biting his tongue that much you can tell with the way he clenches his jaw. Though, whatever he was going to say never comes because he turns to face the two of you and puts on his best fake and convincing smile.

“Congratulations guys, even though I knew it still feels like such a surprise.”  He tilts his head to the side, sending a knowing look towards his brother. “I can’t wait for the ceremony, I hope it’s soon. I really want to be the flower girl.” He finishes.

You giggle, flinching slightly when you feel Namjoon’s hand rest over yours. “That’s up to Bunny here.” He nods over to you. “But thank you guys, we’re very happy since we’ve reconnected. And you’re right mom, she is the girl for me.” He adds, and it only makes it harder. His lie makes it harder to keep your distance, but you can also play the game he is setting up, and this time you won’t lose.

“He’s the perfect guy for me.” You say in your most in love voice before leaning over and placing a delicate kiss on his cheek, making his mother squeal at the gesture. You smirk as his cheeks get a little hotter before placing your head on top of his shoulder. “We’re so happy, thank you so much guys.” You add. His father’s smile widens and nods, picking up his fork and knife and digs into his pancake.

“I’m proud of you son. You found yourself a keeper.”

“Yeah, I did.” He agrees through clenched teeth. You laugh sitting up in your seat, sending him a playful wink, making him freeze.

Maybe you too should’ve been an actress in another life. You’re putting up quite an impressive show if you do say so yourself.

a/n: thank you so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts. If you’re interested in being added to the tallest lmk. 

Again, I’m not sure how often I will upload BUT I will try my hardest to upload more often. 

Thank you again!

[youreyeson1y]

short n' sweet (mimi's kpop version)

collection of short n' (mostly) sweet fics about my favourite boys !

groups included: enhypen & stray kids

tracklist:

01. taste: student council president!yang jungwon

you can't help but tease your ex's current girlfriend just to get a rise out of her, definitely not because you still have feelings for him.

tracklist to be updated:

02. please please please: jake

03. good graces: seungmin

04. sharpest tool: minho

05. coincidence: niki

06. bed chem: hyunjin

07. espresso: christopher

08. dumb and poetic: sunoo

09. slim pickins:

10. juno:

11. lie to girls: changbin

12. don't smile: heesung

author's note:

hello lovelies ! as a long time fan, sabrina's sns was an instant favourite of mine, so i wanted to do something that incorporated her music <3

some things to remember:

📌as most of the songs depict toxic relationships or talk about relationships that have already ended, but me being an absolute fluff activist, this is to lyk that the fics will not portray the literal meanings of some songs but just the general vibes.

📌and to stay with the theme of short and sweet, the chapters won't be much long (my aim was under 1.5k but then the first part ended up being over 2k 💀) so i'll try to keep the chapters under 2k.

and ofc, why not include the people that have been living rent free in my head these past few months?

this started out as a thought that i needed to write about someone other than chan and because i wanted to experiment with different characteristics and tropes; and honestly i'm obsessed with each and every one of these fics

(since we didn't get the sab x enha collab we deserved, i'm here to serve)

as this is very experimental and a totally new experience for me, i would truly appreciate any form of feedback, constructive criticism or just you ranting about your fav scene <3 every single comment or tag means the world to me and i could really use any form of motivation 💋

anyway, i hope you all enjoy !

get back to navigation?

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Yuri posting time. These are ships I personally vibe with from what I post about on here.

Higuchi and Gin (BSD): Okay, I'm not sure I can really explain this properly because it's so entwined with the plot of a particular fic I've been wanting to write about them, and I don't really want to spoil where it goes too much? Basically, I love the potential of two characters who (it's implied) got involved with dangerous work for the sake of their siblings. Higuchi's idealized view of romance contrasts with Gin's survival mentality (which is similar to Akutagawa's). At the same time, Higuchi gives Gin opportunities to express different sides of herself. They both work for the sake of others. Okay, so canonically, there isn't a lot there, because there is little exploration of the themes of BSD through these two characters, unfortunately. But, with a combination of "what if I explored the themes through these characters", some influence from O-Gin and Higuchi-sensei's works, and a touch of my own personal brand of "fuck it, we ball, and see where it rolls", I think there's a lot of fun things you can pull at.

Higuchi and Tsujimura (BSD): Not a long-term relationship. They're best friends who had a brief fling and then decided to remain friends. To me.

Wells and Sasaki (BSD): Absolute crack ship that I have not stopped thinking about since you suggested it @lucythejudge. It's so funny.

Meryl and Milly (Trigun): !!! THEM!!! AUGH! They spent!!! Eight months navigating the apocalypse together!!! Milly's smile and presence is enough to help Meryl out of her dark thoughts! Milly is unable to sleep when Meryl is in danger! Milly challenges Vash and Wolfwood when they try to stop her from rescuing Meryl! Meryl has complete faith in Milly to intervene when she has a literal contract killer pointing a gun at her head!!! They're always at each other's sides! THEY!

Coco and Agott (WHA): They give me slight killugon vibes (also maybe lumity - but I've never actually watched owl house unfortunately). Cute and pure. I hope they continue to inspire each other. :)

Theta and Morena (HxH): Saw art for this once. They haven't even interacted. But still, my brain thinks about it and goes ohohohoho

Ann and Shiho (P5R): Ahhh... they want to be strong for each other... avenging Shiho was Ann's reason for awakening... ahhhhhh

Ann and Mika (P5R): I just think Ann's canonical admiration for women who are mean is incredibly funny and so real. Get her a mean girlfriend.

Makoto and Hifumi (P5R): Okay, they hit it off immediately and also I want to see how intense they get over a game of shogi. Everyone quietly backing away from them... lmao. Also I think it's nice because Makoto could understand Hifumi's struggles with expectation and wanting to help her family, and Hifumi offers a familiar setting (intellectual, strategic) with opportunities for Makoto to expand her understanding as well as form a solid connection. They should be best friends at least!

Bonus:

This idea I had for a fucked up polycule that never actually becomes a polycule and is literally just Yosano, Wells, and Mary all being needed for some kind of research, with a stressed Tsujimura as their supervisor. There is... some kind of tension happening amidst the often inadvisable scientific decisions being made. No sex or romance actually ever occurs but there are conversations that sound suspiciously like flirting that usually end in Yosano gleefully hacking at something or someone in her temporary office, Mary nearly downing the entire grid because she diverted all the power to her latest project that then promptly exploded, or Wells vanishing then abruptly and calmly reappearing minutes later with no explanation except "the world will survive another day". Tsujimura is about ready to tear her hair out. The cat thief drops in sporadically to cause extra chaos. This too, is yuri.

[kitmoas]

maimed underneath wreckage

TGU--Season 2 Installation 1

Warnings: **18+ ONLY** **MINORS DNI*** Mommy Kink, light talk of breeding, hostage talk, light degrading, talk of weapons and magic

as usual if I missed anything let me know!

Author's Notes: IT"S SEASON 2!!! Hi Hello, the beginning of season 2 is here! It's a day late and I'm sorry. Also no editing cause fuck that shit I'm sorry if there's mistakes. Hopefully its a good intro to the vibes of season 2 :) Lemme know your thoughts even if you wanna stay anon in my inbox

Training Grounds Master List | Navigation Post | Inbox

Flickering, a small flame breathing in air as it grows slowly. Despite the darkness and the isolation, it almost feels as though the world is solid. Firm and rooted in a good foundation, but it won’t take long for that to crumble. Falling, spiraling about as if gravity no longer exists. 

Nothing in this place had longevity, changing within a single breath, a flaw in its creation. The insatiable need for peace drove the inevitable hysteria, and that’s where the structure falters. Slowly everything will become normal once more, forcing a reality check in which will leisurely chip away at the sanity within. 

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

The sounds of conversations mixing is a nice change to the beeping of the lab and the clicking of keys in the office, a light wind blowing through your hair as you allow your eyes to laze around your surroundings. The heat lamp next to you allowed for you to sit atop the roof despite the snow along the grass under the balcony. Having spent the past few months keeping your head down after your first semester into your masters, it was nice to finally be back to something a little more normal. A moment between everyone that feels cozy, and you even feel comfortable with the arm that lays along the back of your chair. 

Empty plates are scattered and you know that your brother is confused, and a bit off put, but you try to ignore it. This isn’t where you thought you would be, but it’s okay. Life is a rollercoaster and you need to start understanding that, you cannot control everything nor can you put someone else in control of the levers. You need to move on, learn to take the hits like an adult and live. 

The talk was light the entire lunch, almost cordial which felt weird,and maybe you should have taken that as a sign that this was destined for doom but you shrugged it off. You were here for fun and not everything had to be serious, which made your skin crawl because you knew that wasn’t the same mindset of the girl next to you but it was the one you were stuck in. 

“So have you thought anymore about Peter’s offer?” It never happened on purpose, the dreaded swing back. An end to almost every interaction that you have with anyone at this point, never really detangling yourself from those that left your world rocky. 

You know your brother doesn’t mean it maliciously, but you can’t help but glare at him every single time he brings up the offer. A step into the same world as those that used to be your pillars, the ones that created your world as it once had been. 

Sighing, your eyes divert as you notice the hopeful look of both your lunch companions. “You know I haven’t Cars, you know that it isn’t the only offer I have and there’s no reason to even entertain it. I have school.” Despite the want for your voice to be strong, almost commanding, it wavers on each syllable. “I don’t need another distraction. I want to do well.” 

Before you even finish you can sense the change in his body language, jaw stiffening and eyes rolling. “Personally I think it’s time you stop running from what you’re actually good at.” 

Your mouth opens, just slightly, as your tongue dips out to wet your lips. “You know damn well that I won’t ever truly become part of that world, not full time.” The low simmering anger, the one that exists in you at all times, starts to heat up. You know where this is going, where it has gone for the past couple months. 

“Running from dad and who he was isn’t going to make you happy, we both know that.” The words were out of his mouth, put out into the world, but it was almost like you lost your ability to hear. It wasn’t healthy, your coping mechanism with your father, and you know that but at the end of the day you still weren’t ready to change. It almost felt too familiar, too cozy, and the thought of more change scared you. 

An answer for his statement never came, just your footsteps in the light layer of already melting snow as you walked back into the building. The loud chatter within the food court of your student union masking your emotions, as Cassie stumbled to thank your brother for having a meal with the both of you. Only the brief reflection of them parting indicated what happened at the scene you left behind as you conceal yourself within the wave of people all heading for the coffee bar. 

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

A small stack of papers go flying through the air, hand slamming down on the large oval table. “We can’t keep acting like expansion is impossible! The world needs different types of technology so let’s give it to them!” Kate leers over the table, glaring at the projection of their end of year statements. 

You could feel the tension in the room, everyone was just a bit too scared to fight their boss. “Ms. Bishop, what….what would you mother do in this moment?” Apparently not everyone was scared, a single older man raising his hand with a strict look on his face. 

The young girl blinks, straightening her back as she stares down the table. Her jaw sets and she uses the moment of quiet to smooth down her blazer lapels. Kate settles down in her chair, allowing the smooth soft leather to calm her down more before she speaks. “Maybe you should remember where my mother got this company, yes? At the brink of forced federal shutdown, and practically bankrupt when our combined assets were seized. She destroyed the reputation of this company, disruption within the entire field, because she wanted to be rich. When I took the seat, and responsibility, of this company I swore that I would bring it back to what it could be but you all want to stay what my mother created. If that is true then security can escort you out because I will not be working with criminals. Meeting is dismissed and you all are required to go home, do not return to this building until or unless your mindset changes. We are not villains in this company and I will not entertain the idea of such ideals either.” 

Slowly each person leaves, shock on their face after being practically punished by such a young girl. They had always thought that she would be a fun loving kid, the one that was barely a good secretary but they knew she was growing into a good firm CEO. 

Letting the door lock behind the last person to leave, Kate leans back with her feet on the wood table. Sighing she rubs her hand along her face, staring out at the skyline. Her mind drifts as she tries to settle her heart rate. Memories of her favorite times plague her mind.  

“You wouldn’t dare, Mutt!” Her words held no real venom, voice cracking with laughter as she tried her hardest to keep the nerf gun aimed properly. The ginger staring down Kate as she holds you in a chokehold, her own gun against your temple. 

The body behind you shifts, the arm loose around your neck. “Bring it on, old lady, I’ll pull the trigger. I ain’t no scared lil bitch!” Everyone in the room cracks up at your girlfriend’s random accent that she puts on. 

Neither of you noticed Wanda, hovering in the back, eyes gleaming ruby. Just a tilt of her head and the brunette’s nerf gun is hovering above her hand, the two of you separated slowly. Her hands land on you and Nat is tackling Kate next to you. “Well hello, my little one. No one keeps you hostage but me, understood?” Her voice is deep, smooth as her lips move directly against your ear. 

The sight of the ginger straddling the younger girl below you, hand wrapped around her throat as the two kiss messily. You can’t help the whimper that falls from your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you try to focus on the feeling of Wanda’s hands on you, but you can’t help as your attention is pulled to the wetness growing between your thighs as you watch the beginning of dry humping. 

“Now, if Mommy’s little girl doesn’t start paying attention I’m not going to be able to take care of that issue growing between your pretty little thighs. Are you my brainless obedient hostage or not?” Her nails grips at your hips now, digging painfully into you as she tugs you backwards into her. Her bulge is prominent as she grinds purposefully into your ass. 

You can’t help but get lost in the sensation, arching your back as much as you can to feel more of the woman behind you. The sound of the witch’s annoyed sigh only turns you on more, as she lets one of her hands claw at your jaw–forcing you to nod your head. “Such a stupid little slut already?” Her other hand is pushing its way into your pants, fingers roughly swiping along your wet folds. “Do you want to play a game with Mommy?” 

Even though you are eagerly nodding your head, the claws that dig into you are forcing your head up and down as well. A sharp whistle makes you flinch, the piercing sound right in your ear as the woman behind you calls for the attention of the others. “It’s time for the puppy to learn how to breed our pretty little fucktoy.” 

Kate practically falls out of her chair at a gentle knock, the door disengaging as her secretary pops her head in. “Are you staying late? I can stay so you're not alone.” Her sympathetic smile makes the young brunette feel almost pathetic. 

Pulling herself up, politely she dismisses her and lets her know that she too is heading out. That she has a busy night ahead of her with some very important plans, but had just lost track of time. The brunette spends the next few minutes cleaning up, taking great care to make sure that her co-worker is fully out of the building before starting her descent down the stairs. A heavy sigh as she pulls up Doordash for some random pizza shop, trying once more to find a place that can take the place of her once favorite parlor.  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Crickets softly chirp, a sound in the early night that still brings a soft smile to the blonde’s face, under the slowly raising moon. A chill is settling over the dead grass and bare branches, a sure indicator that another night time snow fall is approaching. It’s been a while since she felt like this, everyone around her had been so stressed out and tense but she just wanted the world back as she had fallen in love with it. That’s selfish but it’s what she wanted, even though she knows that the pain and despair she is going through is bare minimum compared to her closest people. 

“You know, when we were younger mom would also find you fallen asleep out here. She used to say that you were meant for the night. Viridescent in the moonlight.” Natasha’s smile is forced, and her younger sister can see it from a mile away. It had been for months now, if not even longer but it’s only gotten worse as each day passed.  

The hum is soft, barely loud enough to even be noted in the noise of nature. “I miss them.” Her voice breaks causing her to flinch at the obvious weakness she displayed, a quick flash too early in the conversation. 

Wrapping her arms around the blonde, the older woman takes a moment to press a kiss to her temple before rocking with her. “They loved you so much Y. You don’t even understand. When you came to us, god, that was it. We were complete and we all wanted to protect you so much. I wish we would have done a better job, we kind of failed there.” Even as the ginger looks out into the yard, a newly installed play gym shines in the dim light, she can’t help but let her mind wander to some of the best years she had in this neighborhood. 

“You…Sha, you say Mama and Daddy loved me and I knew that but why do step straight to them?” Yelena blinks up at her sister, relishing in the first sign of emotion from her. She watches her contemplate for a while, silence filled with the chirping of crickets, before she stutters out a few syllables. It ends in a stubborn snap of her jaw, the muscles there tensing as she clenches her mouth shut. “I just believe that they would enjoy it here. We will reunite with Mama soon and maybe by the grace of the gods Daddy will show, but we have people we love here. They once said that we find love grasp on tight, you remember?” 

Natasha nods, hot heavy tears filling her eyes. Forcing them down, she tries to chuckle. “The idea of that man being graced by the gods is hilarious, if anything that man would make it back to Yav in the form of one of Mom’s pigs.” At the dead end glare she receives the older woman gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “Okay, I had to walk away. Okay? Okay. I think everyone can agree that I had to. I had no other choice but to remove myself from the situation. It wasn’t fun or nice but I had to. I had to. I had to Y. Okay?” It wasn’t on purpose but her voice was getting louder and her younger sister could see the anger and desperation rising in her. 

Pulling away to sit directly facing her sister, Yelena takes a deep breath as she goes through her thoughts. She knew that it wasn’t going to be easy and that she needed to take her time, but at the same time it had to be direct and quick to make sure that Natasha didn’t run. “The situation did not require leaving, you should never leave and even Daddy spoke to that. Do you not realize that staying would have allowed you to growth instead of leaving and the entire would becoming rubble?” Internally she flinched, the words spoken were harsh but she knew what she wanted out of this. At the end of the day, she herself was angry. Her sister walked away, without a fight, and the blonde knew that she was in the wrong. No matter how much she may idolize her older sibling she has to knock her off that pedestal once in a while. 

The two sit there, for almost an hour, in silence. It’s agonizing and tedious, a feat that almost feels athletic but it ends with Yelena retreating. A gentle kiss to the ginger’s forehead as she sighs, shaking her head and heading back into the house to allow her to have some time in a calm isolation. 

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

Your brow was dripping slightly, the back of your hand doing barely anything to stop the droplet from stinging your eyes. A chorus of laughter echoes in your ears as you stare down at the facetime call, both Peter and America are frantically running towards your shared destination. “Okay, whoever gets there first needs to make sure that they try and get them to honor our reservation!” 

The boy yelps as he nods, the world rushing as he swings towards the science wing of campus. “I’m gonna beat you both!” He’s laughing loudly as he flips about, and for a moment everything almost seems normal. Just a couple college friends trying to finish some research, all of you aiming to practically overdose on caffeine. 

Trying to focus on not tripping as you exit the gym and keep up with conversation as America runs across campus, the rapid wind being Peter’s only real contribution to the call, you almost miss running straight into someone. Dropping your phone, the dreaded clatter never came and you realize that the beloved item is hovering within a glowing red orb. 

“You truly are just a clumsy little thing, you know?” Her voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as she looks up at you through her lashes. 

Frantically reaching up to your air pod you hang up your call before your friends can realize who you just ran into, literally, as you try to scramble your brain into thinking of any sort of retort. “Um.. I-” Your vision blurs slightly, but it’s then you realize she’s still crystal clear. The world around her is blurry and fogged, but as per usual she’s the brightest thing to exist. 

She smiles, a sullen thing pulling her lips, and shakes her head. “I just missed you, but you don’t have to reply.” A quick shush stops your arguing and her eyes dim for a moment. “It’s not fair of me but I just wanted to see you, just for a moment. I could never stay too far away from you for long could I?” There’s a slight cocky tone to her voice as she expresses her thoughts, her body straightening as she realizes you still react the same way towards her. 

“Why.. um.. Why didn’t you call me? I would have answered. I always would.” You try to reassure her or maybe that’s all for you, but you can’t help the words as they pour out of you. “You don’t need to miss me, I’m always at your access if you need me. We always promised that and I don’t ever want to break that promise.” 

The older woman chuckles, almost in spite of herself while she takes a few steps away. Her magic forces its way into your hand as it sets your phone there, waiting patiently for you to catch up to what was happening. It’s the last thing you feel, her scent pulling away as she moves farther backwards.

Gentle vibration that you cling to, but you never got to say goodbye as the entire world melts into nothing.  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

The door closes behind her, a barely warm pizza in hand. It doesn’t smell very appetizing, but anything with cheese should do the trick nowadays. The feeling is instant, the box hitting the counter without a sound. An arrowhead slips down her fingers almost at an instant, swinging around the young girl tries to play her paranoia off casually but her shock is something she can’t. There bent over the chair is Wanda, almost in a frantic state. Her face is flushed and wet with tear stains. Her demeanor is nothing like the CEO is used to but she knows their lives have changed a lot. “W-Wanda? Are you okay? What happened?” Her concern for not only the woman in front of her, but those that connect the two takes over. 

“Please I just want to see someone, anyone. Please. Where is Tommy? Billy? I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.” The woman is sobbing, the words slurring together as she struggles to stand up. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her frame was thin. It almost looked like she had spent weeks searching for these people, but Kate was completely confused. Who was she even speaking of? Did she find a whole new group in just a couple of months? 

Taking a step towards the crouched older woman was a mistake, causing her to practically fling herself backwards. For the first time the young girl stopped, head tilting in confusion and her hand falling to her side, Wanda was scared. It was something that she never saw before, and felt like even on the battlefield she had never even seen an ounce of hesitation from her. 

Slowly Kate slips to the floor, setting the arrowhead out in front of her so that she could seem less like a threat. “Hi, Wanda? Do you know who I am?” She was starting to think that maybe she suffered some kind of brain injury or maybe she was on some sort of drug. 

The frantic woman’s bloodshot eyes snap to match the calm dark waves, and it seems to help her breath a bit better. She shakes her head, pushing away until her back can hit the wall. “I don’t… I don’t know who you are. Am I supposed to?” 

It was a possibility, a small chance, and Kate knew that it was there but hearing it stung. A woman that not only did she look up to but also had grown a large liking to doesn’t know who she is. Though the hurt was sharp, and overwhelming, the young hero tried her hardest to ignore it. She had to save the woman in front of her, she had to make sure that she was taken somewhere that they could restore her memory. 

As gently as possible the archer reaches out, palm upwards. “Can I touch you?” Her voice was soft, almost as if she was talking to a sleeping baby. At the shy nod of Wanda’s head, she smiles. It’s not a beam or bright, but almost like the beginning rays of the sunrise–soft and warm. 

Her hand never makes it there, never touching what looks like a soft sweater, instead the world blacks out and it almost feels like Kate falls into a black hole. 

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

Natasha had grown accustomed to darkness, the time of day when even the moon goes to bed. It happened to be one of her favorite times of the day, a peace that was laid over her like a blanket. When everyone else wanted to do everything during the day, she just wanted to wait for the shadow of night. She worked and thought best at the latest of times, and sometimes that backfired on her; as it was currently. 

She knew that her world was crumbling, but didn’t the destruction start two years ago? The daily life she had created was put on a pause and when she was able to hit play again, the script was rewritten. She was so far behind on rewrites and the new cast members that catching up was impossible, so she went along with what she knew. 

It’s not like she didn’t enjoy everything, nor did she not finally fall into a groove but the foundation she created was not the one everyone stood on. No, instead it had almost felt like a bridge–one laid upon the old foundation. It was strong but it was heavy upon the slowly cracking stone holding it up, time was the only thing in the way of the wreckage. 

For now this was her life, time in the neighborhood that could have been her identity. She could have been part of that family across the way, the one that is sleeping soundly currently and will wake up and get their children to school before heading to work. Maybe she would have been part of the couple that have three dogs and a cat, and work remote jobs so that they can travel the world together. 

Gulping down a thought, she hates to have the visions cross her mind. It could have been her and maybe someone else. Someone else right next to her, smiling and laughing; crying and healing. They could have survived the world together, but the fights would be corporate life and monthly bills. The two of them could have dogs and a cat or two, maybe even a kid if they really wanted. It’s a vision she sees every time she lets her eyes scan the backyard, fairy lights now twinkling dimly to allow enough lighting for safety. 

It’s then when she sees two small crimson orbs, floating. A sense of dread and urgency sinks in her stomach, her fight or flight kicking in and the need to grasp at her widow bites strong. As the circles approach, the figure being illuminated by the string of twinkling dots, Natasha realizes the familiar feeling. Taking her back to Sokovia twelve years ago, she realizes Wanda is the one once again hiding in the shadows; but this time Strucker is not a part of it. 

“Well hello Agent Romanoff.” Her voice was deeper, a bit of that old rage still there. “What are you doing out here, all alone?” 

Despite the girl being far enough out that Natasha could easily escape her, she still felt an overwhelming sense of danger. She knew what this Wanda was capable of, even if it was barely a fraction of what current age Wanda could do, and that was enough for her to let her widow bites activate. She doesn’t give the young girl the sense of pride to speak back to her, just stand at the ready. She couldn’t let her have a moment of the upper hand, she refused to feel her hex again. 

Wanda tilts her head, a mockingly curious look on her face. “Why do you seem so scared, aren’t you the great Black Widow?” She smiles widely, every single one of her teeth shining a faint red as her eyes pulse with her magic. “Or maybe it’s because your best friend Tony Stark isn’t here?” 

Blinking, slowly, Natasha tries to piece together what was happening. What does she mean? Did she lose her memory in the past couple months? Originally she had thought that maybe her magic had consumed her and that it reverted her back to a darker sense of dress, but the way she speaks isn’t something she understands. 

The one thing she is conscious of is the growing ruby orb rolling around in Wanda’s left hand, and the rapidly expanding magic glow around her. The presence of the magic was stronger than almost every moment Natasha had ever seen of the other woman. It scared her and that was the only thing that saved her as she jumped out of the way of the impending attack. 

Except it never happened, the world blurring almost as if her magic stole the ginger’s sight. 

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

Chaos, that’s the only word that can really describe what is happening. It’s only a moment after the world blacked out, only a moment since three lives were blurred and melted back together. 

You didn’t really understand what happened, just a moment ago you  were staring at Wanda for the first time in months and now you were in some random room with people freaking out all around you. She was standing, somewhat away, trapped in a box. She looked confused, but almost at peace, and you wanted to help her. She had been caged before and you never wanted her to ever feel like that again. You didn’t even get to take one step towards her before you watched her start to glitch, almost like a computer screen, before she just disappeared. 

Swinging your head around you tried to find someone who would tell you what was happening, but that’s when you saw her. Kate, your archer, wait no. Kate. Just Kate. She was on her knees, talking to another Wanda who was curled up in a ball crying. It was only another second before that one turned to static. You watched as the brunette frantically stood up, begging for help from the first person she could find. 

Next to her, with shocked eyes, stood Natasha. Her arm is held up by the CEO as her voice gets caught in her throat, but her other hand is outstretched to where a crimson fog is dissipating. The two stare at each other for a moment before Kate apologizes, trying to leave the situation in a professional way. 

In the crowd you blend in, hiding yourself as agents and other Avengers run around. There’s screens and machines all around, things you don’t really understand as everyone is trying to piece together what could be happening. You almost couldn’t tell if you wanted to be seen by the other girl, or even by the widow. Your soul and heart craved her attention, and you knew that your body would relax just from the sight of the ginger’s eyes, but how could you look at them? You had destroyed their lives and now you must live in the ruins of it. 

“ENOUGH!” The loud voice of Dr. Strange freezes everyone, and for a time you think you’re safe. It’s until everyone turns to you, the summoning from the stupid wizard, that for the first time you drown in the salty blue of the eyes you missed most. It was pain, a stabbing through your soul that you knew you would never survive. The need for her attention, even the most miniscule amount of it, was like oxygen. You need it to live, and for the past few months you had none. 

You weren’t sure what any one spoke of, people pushing and shoving not only you but the other two to the center of the floor. A large table there that now seated the rest of the Avengers, three empty chairs left. Even though there is yelling and arguing around, you can’t help but stop. You want to just look at them, forcing your eyes away from Kate was a mistake as you struggle to stay still. You wanted to run to the widow, get on your knees and beg her to come back. 

It was a clearing of a throat that interrupts your thoughts, stern and firm. “We need to discuss Wanda.”

[mushroomjar]

Did you think I forgot about it? The Halloween vocaloid playlist is done!! I'll include the links in a reblog so Tumblr doesn't bury the post, there's a YouTube playlist and a Spotify one, the YouTube one being the longer one with nearly 100 songs... yeah, I got carried away lol Reminder for those who have forgotten/not in the know, this playlist starts with cute lighthearted songs about Halloween and monsters, and gets darker in tone and sound the deeper down the playlist you go

I don't want to make the post too long so I'll just include a general content warning for the songs in the playlist, and under the cut I might list all the songs and ramble a bit about what it was like to make the playlist. I hope you enjoy!^^

Content Warnings: flashing lights, bright images, loud sounds and jumpscares, disturbing images and noises, death, body horror, gore, cannibalism, abuse, stalking, potentially paranoia-inducing songs/lyrics

The playlist has been done for days, I've just been procrastinating on actually making the post until now lmao sorry! I had a lot of fun making the playlist and going through the suggestions, it also made me fall in love with some producers I hadn't paid much attention to before (shout out to all of the people who sent in Babuchan suggestions, as you can see I went down a bit of a Babuchan rabbit hole and added tons of his stuff to the playlist, same for machigerita lol)

I'll admit that one of the reasons the playlist kept getting longer was because I'd look at other creepy/scary vocaloid playlists on YouTube for inspiration, and every time I was nearly done I would write down 20 more songs to check out, which is why it took me a whole month to get this playlist done lol. I hope it was worth it! I'm very pleased with how it all turned out

There were also many songs/producers I really liked but decided not to include in the playlist, for example I found DaijoubuP, who I really like, but I didn't think it fit the vibe of the kind of Halloween playlist I wanted to make, so none of his stuff is in the playlist. Same goes for SEIKAI, his songs sound very creepy but I found the lyrics a bit too dark and I wanted to try to keep the playlist a bit more lighthearted. Maybe I'll make a more general vocahorror playlist sometime to highlight all of these producers' work! Who knows

Something else I realized because of this playlist is my standard for creepy vocaloid music might be a bit different than other people's. I got many Maretu suggestions, and I love the guy and completely understand why some of his music was suggested (such as Coin Locker Baby), but it surprised me just how much I'd see him suggested in the notes of my post or in Spotify playlists, he's never really given me the creeps even with his darker lyrics. Not judging! Just an observation I had

You'll notice that I've been using vocaloid as a bit of an umbrella term, since there are a couple of songs that use UTAU and even Synth-V voicebanks^^

I think that's all I have to say for now, so I'll just list all the songs in the playlist and hurry to put the links in a reblog! Thank you so much to everyone who helped with the playlist, all of your suggestions were really appreciated, I would not have as good a playlist if it wasn't for you^^

The song list is mainly because I tried to link back to the original producers whenever possible, and also sometimes the songs were very hard to find, so a lot of the titles are in Japanese, so I figured having the songs and producers written out here would make it a bit easier for you to navigate the playlist^^ Anyway, songs:

Happy Halloween - Junky

SLASH/ER - Circus-P

Ghosts Play To The Audience - PinocchioP

Kikkai Kettai - Meddmia

Zen'yasai no akuma - mayuko

Furaan Furaan Zombie - nem

Fake-Cryer Pumpkin - CycleP

Zen'yasai no kuroneko - mayuko

Halloween Patisserie TrickaTorka - machigerita

Halloweenya - Chinozo

Dream-Eating Monochrome Baku - nem

Creepy Toast - CircusP

Pumpkin March - momocashew

Selfish Princess - fujiwo

Pumpkin Head Spooky Dance - machigerita

Dream Meltic Halloween - machigerita

Giga giga witch - Kurosawa Madoka

Trich, Trach, Trick Parade - sasasaP

Happy Hollow And The God Club - Nanou

Saa, Docchi? - HINATA Haruhana

Propaganda! - Crusher-P

What Gave It Away - R.I.P

Shadow Shadow - Azari

Splatter Party - Camellia

Who? - Azari

Pandemic - YuugouP

Twilight Homicide Song - Kiraboshi Hikaru

Greedy Halloween Candy Nights - machigerita

Gochisou - Xitoo

Spiral-Luvox - Tune Tonic/Switch

Mrs. Pumpkin's Comical Dream - hachi

trick and treat - OSTER Project

Strange Masquerade Halloween - machigerita

Oxidation And Dream Monsters - Ghost

Oz no Kaitai Show - Ankoku DouwaP/Joruzin

Sadistic.Music Factory - cosMo@BouSou-P

Hourglass - HiiragiKirai

Dance With The Dead - Ghost

Alice of Human Sacrifice - Yugami-P

Candy Addict Full Course - machigerita

The Boy Who Went To Hell - SHUDDER

Crazy Clown - Intro-P

Ideal Picture - NanoritaP

Serial Contraption of Malice - Ghost

Twins - Babuchan

Not As It Seems - Creep-P

Amydgala's Rag Doll - Ghost

Hyouhon Shoujo - Kiyozumi

Rotten Girl, Grotesque Romance - machigerita

Grotesque Love Song - shoutarouP

That Woman - shoutarouP

Musunde hiraite rasetsu to mukuro - hachi

Hide And Seek - Ho-ong-i

Tokeru Sakana - Yuzuri_Hal

Greetings From The Bottom Of The Well - machigerita

Color & Electricity - mushiP

Patchwork Toxin - machigerita

Bacterial Contamination - Kanimiso-P

Song for Great Satan - Nanka-P

Taiyou-sama - Abuse/Abuse-Ken

Fear Garden - Chaa

Despair The Burguer Factory - Groy Anderson

The Cyclops - David K.

Tears of Artificial Flowers - Babuchan

Moon Prescription - Babuchan

Rugrats Theory - Crusher-P

Monochrome Ward - Yugami-P

Bone Dead Mansion - Babuchan

50/50 - Risshuu

Dark Woods Circus - machigerita

Wide Knowledge of the Late Madness - machigerita

Tell me you'll love me - Babuchan

After School - Okashi-P

Lavender Town - neku

???????? - SocialPhobiaSynaps

behe-laino_hotza-bihotza - sakizakisaki

In A Rainy Town, Balloons Dance With Devils - hachi

Sand Gum - MOL.

Nodoka na Kyuujitsu - HikkieP

Broken Toy Mania - Babuchan

Red Flower - Babuchan

Cry Baby - Babuchan

Fuzai - MondaijiP

Boku Yaranai, Kimi Itooshi - nicol

Ant Observation - Healing-P

A 13-Year Old Killer - Sunazame

0 People's Waltz - Babuchan

Varicella - Babuchan

Kagome Kagome - Zawazawa-P

potatoman - MondaijiP

Okaasan - machigerita

VOCALOID UTOPIA - dennoko-P

Hyperpnea - Hikkie-P

Crushed Mary - Mondaiji-P

Nakazu to mo Rokkaku Wrench da Hototsugi - MondaijiP

Complex - Watashi no koko

[darcytaylor]

I don’t know why but I feel like Luke has lost himself a little in the chaos of being the leading man, and the worldwide tour. I can only speak for myself but I have ADHD like me, and a lot of chaos going on around me sends me on a disruptive path.

This is pure speculation as obviously I don’t know, and never will, but it just feels like Colin’s storyline ie, having a glow up, and travelling has also become very like Luke’s. He knew he was going to be the lead, so started making changes - eating better and investing in a stylist. Along the way he splits up with a long time partner, and I can only speak for myself here, but I not too long ago split with my partner of 6 years, and I’ve needed drastic change in my life. Again this echos what’s been happening imo.

I can only compare, but I do remember seeing people going mad for Corey and India during the press run for Queen Charlotte. I do remember the former saying in an interview that he had a girlfriend, perhaps at the end of the run where he could say things? It just seemed then that he was putting firm boundaries and the speculation was becoming too much for him and India, I do remember comments of them looking distant and purposely standing apart, and the hate he received for bringing her along to a Netflix event in Brazil.

Luke and Nicola had six months of this, and no one will ever know what truly went on, but from the outside looking in it seemed that they were really supporting each other and getting on. This is where the speculation reaches fever pitch - they were very touchy feeling with each other, and would often hold hand. Luke sometimes even seeking Nic out and grabbing her hand to calm his nerves (he says he suffers with anxiety) it’s sweet that they can calm each other down. Nicola does seem like the more confident of the two. All this is happening whilst in the background he has a girlfriend, great. I wish them well, but it’s all sneaky. She attends some events low key - the New York premiere. I do wonder if he wants to be open, keep it private or he’s advised to by Netflix. I don’t think the streamer can actually make them keep them quiet? Corey being open about his relationship says not?

Now I don’t agree with the timing of the hard launch, that’s my problem and not his. I do agree with fans saying that the timing is not good, he could have waited and it gone down so much better. I do feel like it’s slightly disrespectful to Nic, who carried that promo tour imo. People vibed more with him than her. I sincerely hope it was his choice to go public, and it was not forced. I know she was in Milan with him, but it does feel strange that her Mum was with them; your daughter hasn’t seen her boyfriend for a while, and you tag along with them? Feels a little strange to me. Maybe that’s just me, and add in the unconfirmed rumours that the Mum liked fatshaming comments about Nic.

I’m certainly not one to hate on another women for simply being in a relationship, and I really don’t like that side of the fandom that has come out. Regardless, I hope that Luke (and Nicola) keep their feet on the ground, and have people around them who keep them on a healthy and productive path in life.

Thank you for your detailed message!

I do think that it would be hard to navigate the onslaught of fame that Luke would be going through, and some people are able to handle it better than others (Nicola being amazing at it). You can tell that Luke struggles with the fame and knowing what to do and what to say.

I do think he made some mistakes in regards to his relationship and how the whole thing transpired (which really kicked off on New Years). But I will give him a bit of grace since he may not have realized the impact his season of Bridgerton was going to have on people.

It is very funny all of the parallels that can be seen in regards to Colin and Luke, I really wonder if he has admitted that to himself or has even realized?

This may be a hot take, and while I enjoyed Queen Charlotte, I didn't love it. I also didn't follow any of the promotion in regards to Corey and India.

I have said it here before, but I never thought that Luke and Nicola were anything other than friends. You can clearly see the bond that they share, and I can understand why people thing they are more. While I thought their handholding was adorable and you can see the comfort that it gives Luke (and even Nicola), it never occurred to me that they were dating because of that.

I have been working for many years, and I have insanely close relationships with coworkers. Coworkers understand a part of you that nobody ever will! And then to top that off with them having to do intimacy scenes, I can understand why they share a bond (that nobody will probably understand).

The paparazzi pictures on the premier night were terribly timed. It wasn't a good look and I can understand some of the outrage. Then adding fuel to the fire with Milan. I guess they thought that since they were spotted once and it was out in the public, lets just lean into it. Definitely the wrong move!

But like I always say, who knows what is actually happening. I don't know any of these people, so anything is possible.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Creepypasta pride headcanons because its pride month

i dont think im gonna tag this since its just personal hcs and i rarely include my personal lgbt hcs in my normal posts shrugshrug.. asides nina, i use my personal hcs for nina in normal posts because those hcs are so deeply ingrained in how i perceive them LMAO notes: not an x reader post, VERY short post, as mentioned above the only character hcs that effect my main writing is ninas hcs the others so not control my normal x reader posts that get requested! if any characters have confirmed identities from their creators LET ME KNOW! i dont keep up with stuff outside of the original stories!

SLENDERMAN

doesnt really do labels and doesnt really know any. he does know that there are different identities but its not really anything that matters to him. responds to any pronouns though! grayromantic, or even aromantic, same with sexual attraction!

SPLENDORMAN

knows about identities and labels a bit thanks to interacting with humans! is fine with any pronouns but defaults to he/it/they! pansexual demiromantic! hip hip hooray!

TRENDERMAN

similar to splendor with the "knows identities and what they are/mean" thing. primarily uses he/him pronouns but sometimes uses it! attracted to men and masc presenting folk! asexual

JEFF THE KILLER

trans female to male, uses he/him pronouns! bisexual king, has no real preference i think... not much to say here! a lot of these are going to be short!

JANE THE KILLER

i hop between headcanoning her being lesbian or bisexual with a HEAVY lean to women. alternatively i can see her being a lesbian who IDs as bi/unaware that they arent actually attracted to men. uses she/her pronouns

BEN DROWNED

little guy

LAUGHING JACK

knows about labels and stuff but jack personally is unlabeled and just doesnt care about putting any names to how he feels. responds to any pronouns, perhaps GNC because he has many interests that are usually associated with both genders... attracted to all genders, develops crushes easily so i dont think he falls under the aro spectrum if he were to pick any labels

EYELESS JACK

unlabeled for the most part but he does have "maybe" identifiers to help communicate what he knows he likes/identifies as! uses he/they pronouns, demiromantic! attracted to both sexes, fine with dating all genders

LAUGHING JILL

demiromantic lesbian, demigirl me thinks! uses she/they/it pronouns

NINA THE KILLER

genderfluid and uses any pronouns at any given time, truly does not care how you refer to them! pansexual

MASKY

demiromantic and asexual uses any pronouns but tends to use he/it :)! no preference for gender in terms of dating

HOODIE

panromantic and demisexual, i think! him and masky are probably the least developed in terms of these sorts of hcs so these hcs are likely to change! uses he/it pronouns though tends to default to he/him

TICCI TOBY

uses just he/him pronouns, i think hes questioning a lot of his stuff and for the most part just labels himself as questioning. exploring isnt really his priority, he kind of just lets what feels right guide him when navigating relationships! can see him being a demiboy but not knowing of the label/being aware... but on the other hand he gives such trans man vibes.. double headcanon like jane- i can see toby as either or! we love multi sets of hcs in this house

Edit: Toby's confirmed bisexual let's fucking GOOOOO!! Question/unsure to bisexual pipeline by beloved + my personal experience (I no longer ID as bi BUT!!!!!)