#for those of you who know the song though

[no-144444]

hi! i love your blog and i know this is kind of weird but just hear me out. do you remmeber the 'anything but f1' thing they did this year? what if oscar's topic was his girlfriends career and she was like a huge superstar on broadway and on the screen? and he like knew EVERYTHING and answered every question perfectly?

i hope you like this idea, if not, that's totally fine.

thank you ml xxx

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knowing me, knowing you- o.piastri

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a/n: thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :)

summary: i suggest you look at the ask...

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

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Oscar was too warm and tired for this. He stood in front of a camera, smelling like hairspray and some sort of spray the makeup artist had put on his face, while he was asked all of the ‘Grill the Grid’ questions. 

“That’s it for ‘Grill the Grid’,” she explained. “But this year we have a new segment.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Anything but F1’,” she smiled. “Your topic is Y/n Y/l/n’s career,” she chuckled. 

Oscar smiled. “This is going to be easy.”

“Will she kill you if you don’t get full marks?” she laughed. 

Oscar pondered. “Probably not?” 

“Alright then. Ready? Pressure is on.”

He nodded. 

“What was Y/l/n’s first role on Broadway?” 

“Matilda,” he nodded. Y/n Y/l/n, his girlfriend, you, also an EGOT winning actor, the youngest there’s ever been. 

“Correct! How old was Y/l/n when she made her Broadway debut?”

“Well, she was 8 in Matilda on the West End and did 2 years of that, so 10?” he answered. 

“Correct! How old was she when she played Sally Bowles, making her the youngest to have ever played her on a Broadway stage?” 

“She was 17.”

“Correct! How old was she when she got her first Tony?” 

“11 years old.”

“Correct!” she smiled. “What Disney princess did she play?” 

“Huh?” he questioned, not knowing that you’d voiced a disney princess. “She’s voiced a Disney princess?” 

She nodded. 

“In a Disney film?”

She nodded again. “Think about it.”

“Does she sing in it?”

“The princess does sing,” she explained. “But Y/l/n did also write a song for it.”

Oscar was stumped. “Can I come back to it?” 

“Sure,” she shrugged, moving on to the next one. “What was her first feature film?”

“Lés Mis,” he answered. “She played Cosette.”

“Correct! What happened at the 2013 oscars?”

Oscar chuckled. “I think Jennifer Lawrence fell over and took Y/n with her?”

“Correct! What is her most streamed song?”

“Does this include recordings she was a part of or just her solo career or the band too?”

“One of those is fine, but if you can give me an answer for all though, we’ll give you an extra point.”

“So,” he started explaining. “Y/n’s most streamed solo single is probably American Teenager, her most streamed band single is probably BABY SAID, and her most streamed cast recording was probably Wicked, or Hadestown.”

“Correct, and it is Wicked.”

As he explained his answers, his trainer and others in the room started to laugh. He knew everything about you. He was so down-bad it was almost embarrassing, but they understood it anyway. You’d been together since you were 14, you were 23 now. You get to know a lot about a person in 9 years, especially from teenage years to being a young adult. 

“What record did she break by winning an Oscar in 2018?” 

Oscar smirked and winked at the camera. “She’s the youngest person ever to gain an EGOT.”

“What school did she teach at in her early years?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How old was she?”

“Ages 8-12, she taught here on and off, and not many people know about it since she didn’t go into that field of the arts.”

He groaned, trying desperately to think. “The Royal Ballet in London!” He exclaimed, finally remembering. 

“Correct! Next question, how many Tony awards does she have?”

“Oh shit they’re on the mantel at home…” he muttered to himself, trying to count them in his head. “5?”

“Correct. Who has more trophies?”

Oscar chuckled. “I have more trophies, but she has more awards.”

“Alright, how many Emmys does she have?”

“1, which she won this year for her role in the Bear.” 

“Correct, how many Broadway or West End shows has she been a part of? You get a bonus point for naming them all.”

“Oh alright, so Matilda, Annie, Into the Woods, Hamilton, Heathers, Spring Awakening, Mamma Mia!, Moulin Rouge!, Cabaret, Six, Parade, Hadestown, Chicago, Wicked, and right now she’s doing Lés Miserables for the first time on a stage,” he explained. “So that was… 15?”

“Just one more?” she hinted. 

Oscar’s face fell. “What? What else has she done?” he asked out loud. “I said Wicked?”

She nodded. 

“Did I say Mamma Mia!?” 

She nodded. 

“Did I say Phantom of the Opera?”

“No, you didn't! Congratulations, bonus point awarded. What has she said is her dream role?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s going to be really bad if I get this wrong, isn’t it? Alright, so, she has always wanted to play Ms. Honey in Matilda,” he watched as the interviewer shook her head. “Shit, alright. Any hints?”

“She said it would be the only way to get her back into a specific show,” she hinted. 

“Oh! Emcee!” he cheered. “God, how could I forget that?”

“Well done! Alright, one final question, what song did she sing at the 2023 grammy awards, where she debuted her first single after ‘LISTEN’, her band, went on hiatus?”

He smirked. He was there for that performance. He was sitting in the crowd as you sang. He got to take you home and congratulate you. He got to be the proud boyfriend all night. He loved it. It was one of his most fond memories. “She sang ‘That’s So True’. I was there.”

“The infamous kiss picture,” she winked at him. He nodded, a smug smile on his face. “So, going back to the other question, what Disney princess did Y/l/n play?” 

“Oh shit yeah, it was animated, yeah?”  

“Not necessarily,” she hinted. 

“Ariel!” he exclaimed. “Ariel, of course!”

She chuckled. “Congratulations, you know the most about Y/n Y/l/n’s career out of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“One would hope,” he chuckled.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[hottogogoat]

i’m really bored so i wrote a parody of what a husband’s pov version would be like. i’m sorry.

(btw i’m a lesbian, i can say the d-word.)

it’s fine, it’s cool

you can say that she ain’t nothing but you know the truth

guess i’m the fool

her arms are out the sunroof

while you grab her boob (?)

i dont a divorce, but u want lesbian intercourse

you only married me to hide the fact you like girls

you can kiss a hundred boys in bars

go ahead, blame me for ur lesbianism

you can say you’re straight but it’s just a farce

I caught you on your knees doing cunnillingus

ON A HOT BABE

A HOT BABE

i’ve watched you cum for real with her, you faked it with me

GOOD FUCK, BABE

GOOD FUCK, BABE

you’re clearly good at this to catch chappell’s feelings

you’re clearly good at this to catch chappell’s feelings

i’m cliché, who cares?

my wife’s a raging dyke having love affairs

and i cry, it’s not fair

i know i’m really boring

and i know i can’t compare!

think i’ll get that divorce

before things get any worse

i think the guys at my job know this song’s about you!

(chorus)

When you wake up next to me

in the middle of the night

you put your head in your hands

you fucking married a guy

so you think about chappell all of those years ago

you’re a homo, I’m a zero, and she told you so.

though it hurts my ego, SHE WAS RIGHT THOOOOOOUGH

[beloveds-embrace]

Noon, babe, I have such bad brain rot right now and need to share it. Right, going on an undercover intel mission with TF141, its a big fancy charity gala and as the daughter of an billionaire its easy to get on the guestlist and you need to pick a plus 1. The boys all argue on who it should be but ultimately you pick Gaz (you dont want to make Simon uncomfortable by making him take of his mask, people you know are there and they'll know Price is older than your usual dates and Soap is too crass). So you to the gala in a beautiful backless dress that matches the colour of Kyles tie and you begin your mission. You eventually make your way to an office where you download documents but get warning that someone's coming so in an attempt to make it seem like you werent snooping, you grab Kyle and sit on the edge of the desk, slotting him between your legs and messing up both your hairs and his tye before placing one of his hands on your tight and hitching it around his hip while his other one goes to your lower back and you pull him into a heated kiss. You do get interupted but manage to play it of as you just wanting to get frisky with each other and when you return to the party and immediately leave Kyle has a hardon the whole time and you propse to finish what you started putting the divider up in the limo and fucking Kyle in the back. When you get back to base, its obvious what happened and the others are jealous and raging they didnt get to fuck you first so they all take turns until you can barely remember your own name

I can’t hoard this any longer but lord. Anon. I need to make out with your brain it’s just too good 😩 imagine also wearing lace lingerie or- or those thigh jewelry with the letters and you are wearing one with K on it?? Im abt to go feral like Kyle would also be the second he notices all the little details.

A lil offtopic but the best song for this? Petition by beyonce because also imagine talking dirty to Kyle in french?? Lord forgive me im abt to BUST

the dress and lingerie aren’t surviving once you return to base though <33 they gotta show you how nicely they can fuck you too <33

[hunieday]

Momo - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Yuki: Thanks for your hard work

Yuki: Anyone here?

Okazaki Rinto: You’re early, Yuki-kun!? I’m here!

Yuki: Okarin, you’re online. Yuki here

Okazaki Rinto: Yeah, I know. There’s still time before the interview though...

Yuki: That’s true, but today’s an important interview day and I finished composing, so I thought I’d camp here early.

Okazaki Rinto: How wonderful. Momo-kun will be thrilled when he reads this!

Yuki: Yeah, who’s the star of the show today after all? Are you at the recording booth with him?

Okazaki Rinto: Actually, the recording ran longer than scheduled so Momo-kun should be back to the dressing room right around the interview time!

Yuki: Is that so. So it’s just the two of us for now.

Yuki: So what should we talk about until he’s back. Shall we have a competition to list what we find the cutest about Momo?

Okazaki Rinto: There’s no way I’m winning that. Let’s talk about what we like about you instead!

Yuki: Are you doing a bit

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun himself actually suggested it. He said "There’s a chance I’m gonna be late, you two can just talk about how super handsome Yuki is!"

Yuki: We thought the same thing.

Okazaki Rinto: I’ll start with my opinion! You used to say you weren’t good with people, but now you’re so approachable it’s amazing!

Yuki: Thanks. Do I have to say something too?

Yuki: I can write music

Okazaki Rinto: Next! I also think you’re an incredible actor. I feel so proud seeing you soar even beyond the idol world!

Yuki: Thank you. More new rivals keep popping up, so I can’t slack off anymore.

Yuki: Now’s my turn

Yuki: Now I’m out

Okazaki Rinto: That’s it!?

Yuki: That’s it

Momo: You barely scratched the surface!?!?!?

Yuki: Here comes Momo

Momo: Here comes Momo-chan!! Sorry for making you two wait 🥺🥺 I couldn’t stop smiling reading all the rabbichat notifications 🥰

Momo: But really, just three or four points don’t even compare in the sea of Yuki’s charm!?!?!?!? Like, his beauty mark is beyond handsome, the way he looks at me with such intensity makes me fall in love all over again. He’s so beautiful from the tip of his fingers to every strand of his hair?!?!?!?

Momo: And the way he calls me his “precious partner” is just too handsome…!!!

Yuki: You type really fast, Momo.

Momo: Lightning fast!!!!!

Yuki: I appreciate you saying all that, but today is all about you, Momo.

Momo: That’s trueee~

Momo: You’re gonna share,,,, what feelings you poured into producing my project right,,,,,,,,

Momo: aaaaaaaaaghhh can my heart even handle this ‼ Yuki, Okarin, please take it easy on me ‼

Yuki: I’ll be gentle.

Okazaki Rinto: Let’s get started! As requested, we’re aiming for a casual, relaxed vibe for this interview, as if you’re not even working. So we decided to do it over rabbichat!

Okazaki Rinto: First off, Momo-kun! Please tell us how you felt when you found out Yuki-kun’s gonna produce your song!

Momo: Hmm...he usually composes for Re:vale as a whole, but he did it just for me this time. To think that he created not just the song but also the lyrics, costumes, and the whole concept...I feel so lucky it’s almost too much to believe.

Momo: The person I’ve admired for so long brings me so much happiness now. I want to take that a hundred, a thousand times and deliver it back to all my fans.

Momo: Wait a sec is this real? I’m not dreaming, right?

Okazaki Rinto: Don’t pinch your cheeks so hard, Momo-kun!

Yuki: It’s real, Momo.

Momo: It is...

Momo: This is so special to me that it always felt like a dream! I mean, just singing with Yuki already makes me so happy, but I didn’t know there was even a possibility to ascend to another level of happiness.

Yuki: I’m just as grateful for the opportunity to focus on a project entirely for you, Momo.

Momo: Yukiiiiii~

Momo: Wait a sec, how come my darling is the most handsome guy in the world !?!? 😭😭😭

Yuki: I know. So what did you think when you heard the song?

Momo: It was so cool... I thought it’d be more cutesy

Momo: But it was completely different! And it has this super stylish dance number, I could picture us dancing together the moment I listened to the airy melody.

Momo: Even though we sing in a high pitch, the deep bass was so powerful, I love it soooooooo much…

Yuki: I’m happy

Yuki: I wanted to capture all your different sides

Okazaki Rinto: Interesting…! I’d love to hear more about your creative process!

Yuki: You could say it’s about Momo’s “switches”, in a way. A switch for when he’s singing, when he’s performing.

Yuki: A switch for when he’s pressing close to my side, thinking about lyrics to write. Working earnestly and wholeheartedly.

Yuki: They’re all different switches within Momo. It all shifts. The gap between them all is intriguing.

Momo: My “switches” huh... So that’s how you see me. 

Momo: You’re right though, I do change depending on the person or situation without even realizing. The gap between the melody and the high pitch reflect that.

Momo: And the electronic sounds are supposed to represent little switches, right? That’s just like you, it’s fascinating!!!!

Yuki: Thank you. It was challenging since I wasn’t allowed to compose the entire thing myself, but it was worth it.

Momo: And the lyrics moved me deeply. I could feel your message of wanting to face the future together, and to keep singing for an eternity and beyond.

Yuki: That’s right. This song is for you, who pulled me forward and shone your light upon me that day.

Momo: That’s because

Momo: Yuki’s music gave me the push I needed back then

Momo: So that’s why I

Yuki: Momo. You always say you’re thankful to me but

Yuki: "Beneath the countless stars, I can reach anywhere as long as I’m with you." Being with you lets me sing anywhere, Momo.

Yuki: Just like that day we sang together on the sandy beach of a deserted island, the place where you and I sing, the place where Re:vale is, will always be the best stage ever. (1)

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun’s crying.

Yuki: Don’t shed tears when I can’t be with you to wipe them.

Momo: Wh

Momo: Whoa stop stop stop stop hold up wasn’t that way too smooth?!?! That line was so hot my tears stopped on their own!?

Yuki: Hello, it’s me, the handsome Yuki.

Momo: Kyaaaa!! Please look my wayyy!! 🤩✨

Yuki: Yep. I’m looking straight at my phone.

Momo: lolololol thanks! I totally feel your eyes on me 🤩✨

Okazaki Rinto: Alright, I’m sorry but let’s get back on track. I’d love to hear about the concept behind your outfits and promo shoots!

Momo: I’m so excited to hear about it! I was hyped the moment I walked into the room for the photoshoot! It looked exactly like a gaming room 🎮

Yuki: The song doesn’t fit an outdoor setting. I felt like even indoors would still be too bright, so I went for a moody, neon-lit setup the moment I found out something like that existed.

Yuki: It was perfect for Momo since he loves gaming, but the gentle neon light reflecting in the dark felt especially very Momo-like to me

Momo: I’m so happy!!!! I really do love those kinds of lights toooo~~ I see how it is, hehe~~~~

Okazaki Rinto: Yuki-kun, your idea of what “feels Momo-like” is always very diverse.

Yuki: Is it? I think it’s normal

Momo: And don’t forget the outfits, I loved them so much >u< Yuki doesn’t usually wear clothes in that style so I snapped a ton of photos of him!

Yuki: I thought we might as well embrace the Momo vibe for this shoot too. We even took tons of pictures together.

Momo: Yup! We were dressed like Player 1 and Player 2! 🪄

Yuki: It's been fun trying a style I don’t normally wear

Momo: You looked amazing!! 😍 💚 Why don’t you start wearing clothes like that more often?!

Yuki: Then how about we try some different combinations next time? (2) 

Momo: Huh?! W-w-ww-w-ww-we don’t have to go that far!!!!!!!!!???

Yuki: Why not? Matching outfits always have a wide variety

Momo: Huh!!!!!!!!!! Okarin !!!!!!!! What do I do !!!!!!!! Work is one thing, but a private setting is totally different?!?!?!?!?!

Okazaki Rinto: I find it funny that you’re typing what you’re muttering in real life, LOL.

Yuki: How nice. I wanna be there too

Momo: You have work after this right? so Momo-chan will wait for you to finish!!

Yuki: Yeah. Thank you

Okazaki Rinto: The request was to make this a more relaxed conversation, but you might be a bit too relaxed right now, or maybe you’re just acting like you always are….

Yuki: Is that a problem? It’s fine, right, Momo?

Momo: Right, Yuki! 🫶

Okazaki Rinto: That’s right! It’s totally fine! And finally, please share a message for the fans!

Yuki: This new direction may surprise some fans, but from where I stand, Momo is strong, gentle, and full of warmth. Just like a sunrise that blends the dark and light, he’s a mix of many wonderful qualities.

Yuki: That’s why the song plays tricks with a variety of rhythms, melodies and singing tones. They reflect Momo’s ever-changing expressions. I hope you enjoy “Get in the Groove.”

Momo: I always spend every day thinking about how happy I am ever since Yuki and I became Re:vale. Sometimes so much so that I wish time could stop.

Momo: But you know, listening to “Get in the Groove” made me feel even happier! I know this project was born all thanks to our fans’ unwavering support. Thank you so much!!! I feel like the happiest person alive right now!

Momo: And that’s why I want everyone who supports us to feel as happy as I do, always and forever! I hope that you never get your feelings hurt! And if sadness ever comes your way, I hope our songs will be able to heal you!

Momo: Re:vale will always be a warm light, shining on everyone like the sun that rises each morning. Now and forever, with Yuki by my side!

Momo: That’s all I got!

Okazaki Rinto: Thank you both! This was Re:vale in full force!

Momo: Yup! I feel Yuki’s love overflowing more than usual 🥹❤

Yuki: Really? I’m not really good with words

Momo: Well no, you’ve gotten dangerously much better at that recently!!??!!!

Okazaki Rinto: It’s hard to believe you once had to practice saying stuff like this.

Yuki: Yeah, that sure did happen.

Yuki: Momo, promise me you’ll keep smiling by my side now and forever

Momo: Yeah. I promise!!

For those who are confused, the sandy beach of a deserted island refers to a specific plot point in part 5 of the main story.

I. am frankly not entirely sure how to interpret this. Because judging by Momo’s reaction I believe Yuki was Most Definitely Not insinuating an actual change of color combinations but. A Different Kind of “combinations”. 

[bekkachaos]

I wish I didn't linger on every thought

8x06 coda | 700 words

Buck goes to Eddie's so he doesn't have to be alone. They don't really talk, but they don't really need to. aka, a continuation of the final scene in 8x06

Eddie didn't get up to turn the music off, in fact he was quite enjoying it. He never really played music around the house and it had been far, far too quiet lately.

As he leant back he turned his head to look curiously at Buck. He looked like someone had dropped him in cold water and put him out on their doorstep. Then there was the way he had already finished his beer when Eddie was only halfway through.

He took another bottle from his six pack and held it up, looking back at Eddie who just shook his head and gestured to his own bottle.

Buck sighed, cracking it open and taking another long swig.

"Slow down there," Eddie said, nudging Buck's knee with his own. "You only brought six."

He smiled like he was prompting Buck to do the same, but he didn't.

"I'm sure you've got one or two in the fridge," he said instead, sullen and monotone.

"Probably," Eddie said, putting his bottle to his lips.

He bobbed his head to the song as it played, taking in a deep breath and resting his head against the back of the couch. He was trying really hard not to feel guilty for taking a moment to feel joy, to do something silly and frivolous just because he could. It felt nice, and he was going to lean into that. He had to.

He turned back to look at Buck, now with his elbows propped on his knees and his fingers peeling at the label on the bottle in his hands.

"You... want to talk about it?" he asked, watching the way Buck's lips tightened as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"No, not really," Buck said in that same listless voice.

He turned his eyes to Eddie, and god they were so sad. Eddie thought that maybe there might have already been tears, or that they were so glassy because he was desperately trying to hold them in. He knew when to push and when to just let him be though.

If Buck wanted to talk then he would (usually it was impossible to get him to stop), but that didn't seem to be what he needed right now.

Buck's eyebrow cocked slightly as he gave Eddie a once over look.

"Do you?" he asked.

Eddie smiled, shaking his head and letting out a low chuckle.

"Nah," he said, taking in a steadying breath. "No I'm um, I'm good."

It might be the first time in a long time that he's said that and actually meant it.

"Good," Buck nodded, turning away from him and back to the disintegrating label at his fingers.

"You want to put a movie on or something?" Eddie offered.

He didn't mind just sitting there with Buck, but he seemed like he could use something to take his mind of whatever seemed to be revolving around in his head, not to mention some company.

"Yeah," he said, lips growing soft in the corners. "That sounds good."

"Any suggestions?" Eddie asked, and Buck turned to look at him.

"Risky Business?" he said, completely straight faced.

Eddie just looked back at him a moment, holding his eyes until he saw just the hint of a sparkle, and his lips pulled up in a smile.

It was a shadow of his usual one, but it was there, it was enough to let Eddie know that he was okay, just hurting.

Eddie let out a laugh and shook his head.

"Alright wise guy," he said fondly, getting to his feet with a groan and reaching for the rest of the beers at Buck's side. "Give me those, I'll put them in the fridge, you just pick something."

He started walking towards the kitchen when he heard Buck's voice call him back.

"Hey Eddie?"

He turned, resting one hand on the wall and looking over at him with eyes that answered his soft question.

"Can I crash here tonight?" he said, eyes crinkling in the corners. "I just... kinda don't want to go back home."

Eddie's smile was warm, feeling. Seeing Buck so in need of comfort left a tugging sensation in his chest.

"Couch is all yours, anytime. You know that."

Buck let out a sharp sigh and Eddie watched just a little bit of relief flood over him.

"Thanks," he said.

Eddie just gave him a nod, watching for a moment as Buck reached for the remote before going to put the beers away, and check that he had enough in the fridge in case Buck needed just a little more.

[fioredeciliego]

No.1 Part Anthem - Winter x Fem!Reader

be warned, there is smut 13k words

Under the dim lights, Minjeong leaned over her guitar, running her fingers along the strings as she checked the sound for the third time. The low murmur of anticipation filled the bar as people drifted in, and she found herself absently watching the door.

This was another Wednesday night gig at The Velvet Den, a small but popular spot for indie bands in the city. It had a cozy stage with a few beaten-up stools and a dark red velvet backdrop, lending the place its grunge charm. Minjeong knew this bar well—she’d played here with Velvet Starlight almost every week for the past year. Though it was a solid routine, recently, it was starting to feel… flat.

Jimin glanced over with a knowing smirk, a hint of mischief in her eyes as she adjusted her bass strap. “Minjeong,” she started, clearly trying to hide a grin, “don’t tell me you haven’t written anything new yet.”

Minjeong scoffed, brushing her bangs back and giving her an exaggerated eye-roll. “Please, I barely have time for sleep these days. Let alone a muse.”

Yizhuo, who was busy restringing her guitar nearby, chimed in, leaning into the banter. “Or maybe you just haven’t found the right muse yet,” she teased, winking. “Someone to finally get past all those rumors.”

Aeri, ever the instigator, joined in, leaning over her drum kit with a laugh. “C’mon, Minjeong, you can’t pretend you don’t have options. Half the people who come here are just here for you.”

Minjeong waved them off, chuckling. “You’re all ridiculous. Seriously, life’s too boring right now. I wouldn’t even know what to write about.”

They laughed, sharing a look that made Minjeong groan inside. The girls knew her reputation wasn’t true, but they still loved to tease her for it. There was no denying that some fans tried to get close, even if her reserved demeanor was often mistaken for allure. Still, she wasn’t as wild as everyone assumed; if anything, her nights usually ended with late-night jam sessions or scrolling through music playlists until she fell asleep.

Soon, the doors opened, and people began filling in, leaning against the bar and claiming tables close to the stage. The pre-show atmosphere was settling in, a mix of dim lighting and murmured conversations. Minjeong checked her guitar one last time, letting herself sink into the warm familiarity of these moments before a show.

When it was finally time to start, they kicked off with a high-energy track, letting the beat and rhythm wash over the crowd. The girls were in their element, losing themselves in the synergy of their instruments and the hazy lights that moved with the music. Minjeong felt herself slipping into that comforting state where her fingers moved on their own, her focus narrowed to the music.

But as they transitioned to one of their slower songs, a haunting melody that filled the space with a quiet intensity, Minjeong’s gaze drifted past the crowd, scanning the bar.

And that’s when she saw you.

Sitting casually at the bar, framed by the warm glow of the dim lights, was a girl who seemed like she belonged there—yet somehow stood out entirely. She was leaning against the counter, her posture relaxed as she listened to her friends, one hand holding a drink with easy confidence. The soft, smudged eyeliner, dark lipstick, and tousled hair were a perfect combination of bold and effortless. She wore a leather jacket over a white top that hugged her frame, a couple of necklaces layered over her collarbone, glinting with every small movement. She wore a short black denim skirt, paired with boots that looked well-traveled, like they’d been to more places than most people had.

There was something magnetic about her, a calm self-assurance that felt out of reach, and Minjeong felt herself falter for the briefest moment. Her fingers stumbled over a chord, the soft slip almost imperceptible. She recovered quickly, her eyes darting back to her guitar as she forced herself to focus on the melody, even as her heart raced.

But the pull was impossible to ignore. Her gaze kept finding its way back to the girl at the bar. She’d occasionally laugh at something her friends said, her smile both warm and sharp, as if she knew the effect it had. She looked up, glancing around the room, and her gaze landed on Minjeong just for a heartbeat.

Minjeong’s breath caught, her fingers pressing down a bit too hard on the strings, making the note come out harsher than she intended. She softened her touch, mentally cursing herself. She’d performed a thousand times, yet somehow, this girl had her more flustered than she cared to admit.

As the song reached its crescendo, Minjeong chanced another glance, hoping the lights were dim enough to hide the fact that she was, for once, absolutely captivated. And when the girl lifted her drink to her lips, casting a side glance toward the stage, there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes, as if she too had noticed Minjeong’s lingering gaze.

The song came to an end, and the crowd erupted in applause. Minjeong barely registered it, feeling the adrenaline buzzing beneath her skin as they transitioned into their next song. But all she could think about was the girl at the bar—the one who had managed, in a single night, to make her life feel a little less ordinary.

--

Y/N had spent the day carefully cultivating a cocoon of quiet. Her tiny studio apartment was the perfect sanctuary—dim lights, a mountain of blankets, and a carefully curated lineup of comfort movies waiting for her. She’d kicked off her shoes, nestled herself into her coziest pajamas, and piled a ridiculous amount of snacks around her. A perfect night in, with no disruptions.

That was, until her phone buzzed insistently. She ignored it at first, but a second notification appeared, then a third, each accompanied by an enthusiastic vibration. She sighed, glancing at her phone to find her friends, Yunjin and Minji, launching an all-out text attack.

“Come on, you need to get out of that little cave of yours!”

“It’s a crime against girlhood to stay in every weekend, you know.”

Y/N stared at her phone, torn between the pull of her warm, safe cocoon and the lure of a night out that Yunjin and Minji clearly weren’t going to let her skip. She gave in with a groan, quickly typing back a begrudging “Fine, but I’m wearing the first thing I find,” before rolling off the couch and reluctantly swapping her pajamas for a skirt and a simple white tee. She pulled on a leather jacket for good measure and checked herself in the mirror, feeling more or less presentable.

Yunjin and Minji were waiting outside, beaming as if she’d just returned from the dead.

“Told you she’d come out eventually,” Yunjin teased, linking her arm through Y/N’s. Minji flashed a grin, grabbing her other arm as they pulled her into the lively city streets.

They arrived at The Velvet Den, a tucked-away bar with an eclectic crowd and a charmingly rugged vibe. The bar had old-school posters plastered on the walls, low lights casting an amber glow over everything, and the faint, comforting smell of old leather and wood. Y/N had to admit it was the kind of place she might like if she were in the right mood.

As they entered, the beat of a slow, steady song hit her. The music wasn’t just background noise here—it filled every corner, creating an atmosphere that felt almost alive. She glanced at the stage, and her eyes caught on a four-piece band, each member lost in the music. Yunjin led them over to the bar, where they ordered drinks and began shouting a conversation over the music, laughing as they tried to catch up with each other’s words.

But as Y/N settled in, she started to feel something strange—an odd sense of awareness, a prickling on the back of her neck, like she was being watched. The feeling was familiar yet unusual, pulling her from her chat with Minji as she turned, almost instinctively, toward the stage.

And there she was. The lead guitarist, her attention fixed on Y/N with a look that was intense and focused, like she was trying to see through the dim lights and smoke of the bar. She had a quiet but striking beauty—dark eyes under long lashes, loose hair falling just over her shoulders, and a posture that spoke of ease and confidence. She held the guitar like an extension of herself, her fingers moving over the strings in a way that made it seem almost effortless. She was magnetic, the kind of person who could draw attention without even trying, but somehow, her gaze felt direct, almost… searching.

Y/N’s heart stuttered, caught in that gaze like a moth to a flame. They locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before Y/N remembered herself and quickly looked away, hiding her blush behind her drink.

“Hello?” Yunjin waved a hand in front of Y/N’s face, a mischievous grin spreading as she realized what had caught her attention. “Y/N, don’t look now, but I think you’ve got an admirer.”

Minji leaned in, a smirk playing on her lips. “Looks like the guitarist has a thing for quiet girls. Guess you’re exactly her type.”

Y/N laughed, trying to brush off the remark, though her cheeks felt warm. “Please, I’m sure she’s just scanning the crowd. It’s part of the whole mysterious rocker look.”

But her friends exchanged knowing looks, ignoring her attempt at nonchalance. “Uh-huh,” Yunjin said, smirking over the rim of her drink. “Pretty sure she was just looking at you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t shake the thought. The guitarist’s gaze had felt so direct, like she’d been picked out from the rest of the crowd on purpose. And even now, as she tried to brush it off, a flicker of curiosity was tugging at her. Who was this girl on stage, with her brooding look and intense presence? Y/N’s fingers drummed lightly on her glass as she tried to refocus on her friends’ conversation, but her gaze kept drifting back.

When she allowed herself another glance, her heart skipped again. The guitarist was still looking at her, her expression caught between a smile and a look of quiet intrigue, as if Y/N had pulled her attention just as much as she’d pulled Y/N’s.

This time, Y/N let herself look a little longer, taking in the way the guitarist moved with the music. Her focus seemed to sharpen whenever her eyes met Y/N’s, each glance filled with a subtle intensity that made it impossible to look away. It was the kind of stare that felt like it meant something, like an unspoken invitation that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher.

The music continued to flow, filling the space between them, and Y/N tried to keep up with the banter from her friends, though her mind kept wandering back to the girl on stage. The way her fingers slid along the guitar, her shoulders relaxed yet focused, the look in her eyes that seemed to promise more than just a passing glance—it was all a little intoxicating, like a faint, buzzing thrill she didn’t want to resist.

--

As the last chord of their closing song faded into the noise of the crowd’s applause, Minjeong felt a strange, urgent energy humming through her. She’d barely made it through the set with her usual focus—she’d messed up twice, fingers slipping on familiar notes, distracted by the image of a girl sitting near the bar with that easy, unbothered confidence.

When the band left the stage, she was practically vibrating with anticipation. She wanted—needed—to see her again, and every second that ticked by felt like forever. But before she could make her escape, the girls intercepted her backstage, each of them wearing expressions that were a mixture of curiosity and barely restrained laughter.

“Minjeong, what was up with those slip-ups tonight?” Jimin was the first to call her out, arms crossed, a playful eyebrow raised. “I thought we were supposed to be the pros around here.”

Minjeong groaned, torn between the thrill of getting out there to find that girl and the embarrassment of being caught so obviously off her game. “I know, I know,” she replied, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just—” She hesitated, feeling a bit ridiculous for what she was about to say. But, well, if anyone would understand, it’d be her bandmates.

Aeri looked her up and down, catching on to her hesitation. “Ooooh, did our Minjeong get distracted?” she teased, her voice light, but her smirk was sharper than ever.

Minjeong sighed, trying not to look as flushed as she felt. “I don’t know what to tell you guys. I think… I think I just met the love of my life.”

The room went silent for a second before it erupted into laughter. Yizhuo laughed so hard she almost fell backward, catching herself on Jimin’s shoulder. Minjeong bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat up even more as the girls practically doubled over, throwing playful jabs her way.

“Love of your life, huh?” Jimin said, trying to catch her breath as she wiped away a stray tear from laughing. “Wow, you’re really going for the hopeless romantic vibe tonight, aren’t you?”

“Wait, wait,” Yizhuo gasped, grinning as she leaned in. “Tell us more. Who’s the lucky girl who stole the heart of the Kim Minjeong?”

“Not that it’s exactly hard to win your heart,” Aeri teased. “But this time sounds serious.”

Minjeong tried to laugh along, but she couldn’t shake the urgency pulling her toward the bar. “Look, I’d love to stay and let you guys roast me, but if I don’t go find her right now, I might actually lose my mind,” she said, a touch of impatience in her tone as she moved toward the door. “Let me go, and I’ll tell you everything later, promise.”

Jimin chuckled, finally letting her go with a pat on the back. “Alright, Romeo, go find your Juliet. Just don’t come crying to us if it’s another ‘tragic romance’ story.”

Minjeong flashed them a quick grin and slipped out of the room, her heart racing. As soon as she entered the main area of the bar, a small group of people noticed her, and almost immediately, she was surrounded. It happened a lot after shows, and usually, she didn’t mind. She’d smile, chat a bit, and enjoy the rush of attention. But tonight was different. Her mind was too busy, too focused on finding that one girl.

“Hey, Minjeong!” someone called, leaning a little too close, hand brushing her shoulder. Another girl wrapped her arm around her for a picture, and a few others were trying to get her attention, voices overlapping, laughter loud and bright.

She tried to be polite, flashing quick smiles, offering a few distracted words, but she couldn’t stay still. She gently brushed off the hands reaching for her, politely excusing herself as she scanned the bar, her eyes searching. She had no idea if the girl would even still be there, but the thought of missing her felt oddly unbearable.

Finally, she made it to the bar stools where she’d last seen her, only to feel her heart sink. There were two familiar faces there, but not the one she’d been hoping for. It was the girl’s friends, the ones who’d been laughing and chatting with her all night.

Yunjin, noticing her approach, raised an eyebrow and shot her a knowing look, her lips twitching into a sly grin. “Looking for someone?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement.

Minjeong froze for a split second, wondering if she should play it off or admit it, but she quickly decided there was no point in pretending. “Yeah, actually… I am,” she replied, trying to keep her voice casual, but her expression betrayed her eagerness. “Is she—uh, is your friend still here?”

Yunjin and Minji exchanged a glance before they burst into quiet laughter, clearly enjoying the moment a little too much. “She went outside to get some fresh air,” Minji said with a grin, nodding toward the bar’s exit. “Maybe she’s waiting for someone to come talk to her.”

Minjeong’s eyes widened, and she nodded gratefully. “Thanks,” she murmured, barely able to contain her excitement as she turned and practically bolted toward the door.

Stepping outside, she was immediately greeted by the crisp, cool air of the night. She slowed down, catching her breath, and looked around—and there she was. The girl she’d been searching for, leaning casually against the wall a few feet away, bathed in the soft, silvery light of the moon. She seemed lost in thought, her face illuminated by a gentle glow that made her look almost ethereal. Her dark hair caught the light, cascading over her shoulders, and her leather jacket looked even more striking in the dim night, lending her an air of effortless cool that took Minjeong’s breath away.

Minjeong stood frozen, just taking her in, feeling like an idiot for the way her heart raced. She had no idea what to say or how to start a conversation without stumbling over her words, but she couldn’t look away.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, the girl turned her head, her eyes meeting Minjeong’s in that same intense way they had during the performance. Time seemed to slow as they stared at each other, the distance between them feeling both unbearably close and impossibly far.

The girl’s lips curved into a small smile, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as if to say, Well, are you just going to stand there? Minjeong felt a rush of embarrassment and excitement crash over her, but she couldn’t help the goofy grin that tugged at her own lips.

She wanted to say something smooth, something charming, but the words were stuck somewhere between her mind and her mouth. So instead, she took a small, tentative step forward, feeling both exhilarated and terrified. The girl’s smile softened, her gaze warm and steady, and Minjeong felt like she was caught in some kind of spell, the world fading away until it was just the two of them under the stars.

Finally, she managed to find her voice, though it came out a little softer than she’d intended. “Hey,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

--

As the final applause died down and the band disappeared backstage, Y/N could still feel the lingering thrum of the music vibrating through her. She knew she probably looked distracted, but she couldn’t shake the feeling—the energy—of those glances Minjeong had thrown her way throughout the performance. It was as if every time Minjeong looked her way, Y/N could feel the intensity, the pull of it, right down to her bones.

“Hey,” Yunjin nudged her, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. “You’re not thinking about anyone specific, are you?”

“Yeah,” Minji chimed in, flashing her a mischievous look. “Maybe someone with a guitar and a pretty face?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, waving them off with a huff. “I’m just going outside for a bit of air. Don’t wait up.” She shot them a playful glare before slipping through the crowd, ignoring their quiet laughter behind her.

Outside, the cool night air washed over her, calming the flurry of emotions she hadn’t expected to feel tonight. Leaning back against the wall, she took a deep breath, staring up at the stars and letting her thoughts wander back to Minjeong. There’d been something magnetic about the way she played, fingers gliding over the guitar, eyes finding Y/N in the crowd like she was the only one there. Y/N had felt those glances linger, like they’d been sharing some unspoken secret all night.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed the soft sound of footsteps approaching. It was that feeling again—eyes on her, that strange, invisible pull. She turned her head, and there she was. Minjeong stood just a few feet away, looking at her with wide, slightly nervous eyes, a shy smile tugging at her lips. The moonlight softened her features, casting a gentle glow over her flushed cheeks and messy hair, and Y/N felt her breath catch.

Unable to hide her amusement, Y/N raised an eyebrow, giving her a teasing look as if to say, Well, are you just going to stand there?

Minjeong blinked, caught off guard, before taking a small, hesitant step forward, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. “H-Hey,” she managed, her voice soft and a little shaky. She looked almost… bashful, her gaze darting between Y/N’s eyes and the ground.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, the warmth in her chest growing at seeing Minjeong so adorably flustered. She’d expected a cool, confident rockstar, but this shy, slightly awkward girl was even more intriguing.

“H-Hey,” Minjeong repeated, laughing nervously as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Um, I don’t usually… do this, but I saw you, and…” She trailed off, cheeks turning even redder. “I just wanted to, you know, say hi.”

Y/N chuckled softly, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the wall. “Just ‘hi,’ huh? I got the impression you had a lot more to say when you were looking at me from the stage.”

Minjeong’s mouth opened, then closed, clearly at a loss for words. She laughed, embarrassed, as her eyes dropped to the ground. “Was it… that obvious?” she murmured, sneaking a glance up at her, looking both mortified and amused.

“Just a little.” Y/N’s teasing smile softened, her tone gentler now. “But I didn’t mind it. I mean, maybe I was looking back once or twice, too.”

Minjeong’s eyes brightened, and she bit her lip, that shy smile coming back as she looked at Y/N with a mix of relief and excitement. “Really?” she asked, voice filled with a kind of innocent disbelief that only made her more endearing.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I came out here to clear my head, actually. Because of you.”

Minjeong’s breath hitched, and she looked away for a moment, visibly gathering her courage. She took another small step forward, her eyes now steady on Y/N’s, and for a moment, the shy, uncertain expression melted away, replaced by something more confident, more daring.

“I’m really glad I came out here,” Minjeong said softly, her voice carrying an unexpected sincerity. “I was, uh… kind of hoping I might see you again. And, um, maybe… ask you something.”

“Oh?” Y/N felt her heart beat faster, her eyes never leaving Minjeong’s.

Minjeong took a breath, looking almost like she was bracing herself for a big moment. “I was wondering… if I could know your name. I didn’t get a chance to ask while I was… you know, staring at you.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling herself blush despite her best efforts. “Y/N,” she replied, letting the name settle between them like a promise. “It’s Y/N.”

Minjeong’s smile widened, and she repeated it softly, as if committing it to memory. “Y/N,” she murmured, her voice filled with something that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. Minjeong took another step closer, her gaze still warm and intent, a hint of mischief sparking in her eyes now. “You know, I don’t usually get this nervous,” she admitted with a small, sheepish laugh, “but… I guess you’re kind of intimidating.”

Y/N chuckled, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Intimidating? Me? I think that’s a first.”

Minjeong laughed, nodding as she looked at the ground, then back up at Y/N. “Yeah, well, you’ve got this… this thing. This presence.” She rubbed the back of her neck, then let her hand drop, finding her confidence again. “And… you’re really beautiful,” she added softly, the words almost a whisper, but filled with a sincerity that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

For a moment, Y/N didn’t know what to say. She felt the warmth spreading in her chest, and all the teasing words she might have said disappeared, replaced by something softer, something real.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice softening, “you’re not too bad yourself, Minjeong.”

The way Minjeong’s face lit up made Y/N’s smile grow. It was like she was seeing every side of her all at once—the confident performer, the nervous girl, and something more vulnerable underneath it all. It was that mix that made Y/N want to keep talking, keep learning about her.

“So,” Minjeong ventured, shifting from foot to foot, but her gaze steady now, “would you… maybe want to grab a drink sometime? Or… I don’t know, talk about all the things I was too nervous to say on stage?”

Y/N grinned, crossing her arms with an amused look. “Are you sure you can handle talking to me without losing your cool?”

Minjeong laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “I can try. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to a murmur, “something tells me you’re worth the effort.”

Y/N’s smile softened, and for a moment, she just looked at her, taking in the way Minjeong’s gaze never wavered, even if her cheeks were still a little pink. “Alright,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that.”

Minjeong’s face broke into the happiest, most relieved smile Y/N had ever seen.

--

Back inside, Minjeong and Y/N quickly found their way to Yunjin and Minji, who were laughing and chatting at the bar. Minjeong felt a little thrill when Y/N introduced her, and even more so when her own bandmates strolled out from backstage, the entire group merging into one.

Jimin leaned in with a smirk. “So, this is the girl who made our rockstar here forget her own chords?”

Minjeong flushed, shooting her bandmates a look that only made them laugh harder. But before she could sputter out a response, Yunjin piped up with a bright grin, “Why don’t we all head somewhere quieter? I know a bar nearby with a good vibe, and we can actually talk.”

The group agreed, and soon they were all spilling out onto the street, laughter echoing around them as they made their way down the road. Minjeong hung back with Y/N, a warm, comfortable silence falling between them before they started talking. It felt natural, easy, even as Minjeong's heart still raced from the kiss that lingered on her mind.

As they all headed down the street toward the quieter bar, Minjeong and Y/N fell into step just behind the group, comfortable in the hum of the night. Minjeong glanced over, her curiosity getting the best of her. “So… judging by your style, I’d guess you’re a fan of rock, too?”

Y/N grinned, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Is it that obvious? Yeah, guilty. I got into it pretty young. There’s just something about the raw energy, you know?”

“Totally,” Minjeong agreed, her excitement matching Y/N’s. “That’s why I wanted to start a band. The noise, the chaos—it’s addictive. Arctic Monkeys got me into it, actually,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “I was obsessed.”

“Are you serious?” Y/N’s eyes widened. “I’m a huge Arctic Monkeys fan! ‘AM’ was like… a soundtrack for my teenage rebellion,” she joked.

Minjeong’s eyes lit up. “Same! ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ is practically burned into my brain at this point. It’s why I even started learning guitar. I wanted to play riffs like that.”

Y/N laughed, her gaze softening. “I knew you had good taste.” She shook her head, looking away for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “There’s something about the way they capture that… I don’t know, that midnight, gritty feeling. It’s like you’re walking down an empty street with secrets.”

“Exactly!” Minjeong said, her face lighting up. “That’s what I love. It’s like they make you feel a whole mood, even without the lyrics. Just the sound.”

They continued talking about favorite songs and concert memories, swapping stories about late nights spent lost in the music. It felt easy, natural—like they were old friends reconnecting, not two people who’d just met. Their steps slowed, and soon they were trailing behind the others, wrapped in their own little world of laughter and shared nostalgia.

By the time they reached the bar, Minjeong felt more at ease than she had in ages. They ordered a round of drinks, everyone chatting animatedly in little clusters. Minjeong’s bandmates were quick to strike up conversations with Y/N’s friends, which left the two of them with the kind of stolen glances and low laughter that felt almost private in a room full of people.

Jimin, however, was still on a mission to tease her mercilessly. “So, Minjeong, think you’ll be writing a new song anytime soon?” she asked, her tone innocent but her grin anything but.

“Maybe a ballad,” Aeri added with a wink. “Or a love song for that ‘special someone.’”

Minjeong rolled her eyes, the teasing never-ending. “Maybe a metal anthem about having nosey friends,” she muttered, just loud enough to get a laugh from everyone.

Seeing her getting flustered, Y/N’s amused gaze softened. With a grin, Minjeong leaned close, asking, “Wanna get out of here? The dance floor’s calling.”

Y/N’s smile was immediate, and with a soft, “Lead the way, rockstar,” she took Minjeong’s hand. They wove through the crowd toward the dance floor, leaving the teasing glances of their friends behind.

They made their way to the dance floor, where the lights were dimmer, casting everyone in shades of deep red and blue. The music was slower, more sensual than the previous bar’s high-energy beats. As they started to move, Minjeong felt her nerves fall away, replaced by a growing confidence as she focused on Y/N, the rest of the room fading into the background.

They danced, letting the music guide them as they moved closer, their bodies almost touching. Minjeong felt her heart race as she gathered the courage to place her hands on Y/N’s hips, gently pulling her closer. Y/N didn’t resist; instead, she leaned into Minjeong, letting her hands rest on Minjeong’s shoulders, eyes glinting with amusement and something else Minjeong couldn’t quite place but wanted to drown in.

Feeling bolder, Minjeong spun Y/N around gently, her hands guiding her to dance even closer. Y/N tilted her head back to look at her, lips parted as she gazed up at Minjeong with an expression that sent a thrill through her. Time seemed to slow, the music fading into a heartbeat-like thrum in her ears.

They stood like that, breath mingling, eyes locked. Y/N’s gaze flicked down to Minjeong’s lips and back up, her own lips curving in the slightest hint of a smile, a silent invitation.

Not wanting to waste another second, Minjeong leaned down, closing the distance between them. Their lips met, soft at first, hesitant, and then deeper as the world around them disappeared completely. Y/N’s hands slid from Minjeong’s shoulders to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as she pulled her closer. 

Minjeong felt another surge of confidence go through her, so she deepened the kiss. The heat rose in her cheeks as her tongue touched the other girl’s, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined, more curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through both of them. They both pulled away for air with a small pop. 

When they pulled back, Minjeong was breathless, a dazed smile spreading across her face. Y/N looked up at her with a similar expression, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breath.

“Well,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the music, “that was… unexpected.”

Minjeong chuckled, her hands still resting on Y/N’s waist, reluctant to let go. “Good unexpected?” she asked, her voice soft.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile, and she nodded, eyes glinting. “Very good.”

“How about we get out of here?” Minjeong’s voice dropped an octave. Y/N bit her lips and nodded.

--

Minjeong and Y/N found themselves leaving the bar with the excuse of “fresh air.” The street was quiet, the city lights casting a soft glow as they walked side by side, shoulders brushing with each step. They hardly spoke now; there was an unspoken understanding that grew with every step that led them further into the night.

When they arrived at Minjeong’s apartment, Y/N felt her pulse quicken. The two entered quietly, as if unwilling to disturb the intimate quiet between them. Minjeong led her inside, their fingers brushing lightly, and it felt like a silent invitation. Y/N followed, her eyes tracing the faint outline of Minjeong’s figure in the dim apartment light, each detail accentuated by the calm atmosphere.

In the small, cozy bedroom, they turned to face each other. Minjeong found herself reaching out, her hand gentle as it grazed Y/N’s cheek. There was no need for words; the look in Y/N’s eyes was enough, a mixture of anticipation and something deeper. Slowly, their lips met, softer and slower than before, savoring each lingering touch and deepening the kiss as the seconds passed. It felt like an unraveling—each kiss exploring, tentative, and then firmer.

Their hands began to roam with more confidence. Y/N felt Minjeong’s fingers drift down her back, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. The taller helped Y/N strip off her clothes, being gentle and savoring the moment, until she was only in her underwear. Minjeong looked at Y/N and her breath hitched.

“You look beautiful.” She murmured, making the shorter blush.

“I bet you’d look just as good if you had less clothes on.” Y/N teased. Minjeong stripped off as well in a hurry, almost stumbling as she shook off her pants, making Y/N laugh. Once they were both only in their garments, Minjeong pushed the other lightly onto the bed, before she got on top of her.

Minjeong looked at Y/N’s eyes, both had excitement displayed on them. Leaning down, she captured Y/N lips once again in a passionate kiss. Their tongues grazed against each other, Minjeong’s hand caressing the other’s waist and hips, while Y/N was tangling her hands in her hair. 

Minjeong pulled away, earning a whine from Y/N. She let out a soft chuckle, while her hand went up to Y/N bra on her back. She looked at Y/N for confirmation, who only arched her back so that Minjeong could unfasten it. Minjeong struggled a bit, but managed to do it, tossing it to the side, she dipped her head, taking one of Y/N nipples into her mouth, while her hand groped her other boob, her fingers pinching and twisting her nipple. Y/N let out a loud moan, arching her back in appreciation. Her hands went to Minjeong’s back, unfastening the other’s bra, tossing it next to hers in the floor. Her nails left red, angry marks on Minjeong’s well defined back.

“Fuck.” Minjeong muttered, switching to the other breast.

“God, Minjeong. So good.” Y/N panted. Minjeong started to kiss downwards, leaving opened mouth kisses on Y/N stomach. Looking up, she asked for permission with her eyes. Y/N nodded her head.

Using her teeth, she took a hold of Y/N panties and slithered them down her legs. She went up again and kissed the shorter. This kiss was more sloppy, desperate, hands touching whatever part of skin they could reach. Y/N used her hands to slip off Minjeong’s final piece of underwear. The taller suddenly pulled up. Her lips were a bit swollen, and her pupils were dilated.

“Give me a second.” She pecked Y/N lips and stood up. Y/N looked at her leaving figure confused, but waited patiently. While Minjeong was away, she decided to look around the bedroom. 

The walls were painted a muted shade of deep blue, making the room feel calm and peaceful, with a few framed black-and-white photographs of bands, abstract art, and scenic landscapes hanging in casual arrangement. There were no flashy decorations, but the minimalistic vibe allowed her personality to shine through in the details. A large window stretched along one side of the room, its sheer curtains slightly drawn, letting in the soft glow of the city lights that filtered through the night. The view was modest but serene.

Minjeong came back, she had a 7 inch black strapon fasted around her hips. Y/N breath hitched.

Holy fuck

Minjeong went on top of Y/N again.

“This is ok with you, right?” Minjeong asked, her hand caressing Y/N’s cheek. Y/N nodded, unable to let out any words.

Grabbing the base of the strap, Minjeong rubbed the tip on the slit a few times, using the wetness as a natural lube, she then pushed inside, inch by inch. Y/N gasped as she reached out to hold Minjeong, her nails once again scratching the taller’s back. She let out a pornographic moan, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Shit.” Minjeong groaned, feeling the blunt part of the strap hit against her clit. “You’re so tight, even with how wet you are.”

Y/N nodded, shutting her eyes, which were watery from the pleasure. “Just for you.”

Minjeong started thrusting slowly, wanting Y/N to get used to it. But once the shorter told her to speed up, she did. Her thrust were fast, but she got to a pace where she could hit Y/N spongy spot each time. The moans from the shorter were driving her crazy, she had found her new favorite sound. The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping against each other, Y/N’s moans and Minjeong’s groans of pleasure. The bed was creaking, the post hitting against the wall every time the taller thrusted forward. It smelled of sweat, sex, and perfume; and it was almost mouthwatering for the both of them.

Minjeong grabbed Y/N softly by the neck. “Look at me.” She panted.

The shorter opened her eyes, making eye contact with the other. “I’m coming.” She whined, her hands reaching out to grab Minjeong’s forearms, which were quite strong for her pretty petite form.

“Wait.” The taller groaned. “I want you to come with me.” Y/N nodded, struggling to keep her eyes open. “I’m so close, almost there baby.”

Y/N moaned, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. Minjeong was fucking her so good, she felt on cloud 9. “Minjeong. Minjeong, please let me come.” She begged. Drops of sweat were dripping down her.

“Come. Come with me, baby.” The nickname was enough for Y/N to release. She screamed Minjeong’s name, seeing black for a few seconds. Minjeong was just behind her, groaning as she came too. She didn’t stop thrusting, wanting both of them to ride out their orgasm. “Stop. Too sensitive.” Y/N whimpered, making the taller stall her thrust.

Slowly, she pulled out, making both of them moan. Minjeong at the sight of a string of Y/N’s cum connected to the strap, and the shorter one because of the feeling. Minjeong reached down her two middle fingers, rubbing Y/N’s slit and gathering her cum, Y/N shuddered because of overstimulation.

Looking at the shorter in her eyes, Minjeong wrapped her lips around the fingers full of Y/N’s slick, moaning at the taste. Y/N whined at the sight, another shot of cum came out of her, making Minjeong let out a small chuckle. Leaning down, she brushed her lips against Y/N. “How do you feel?”

“Like I went to heaven.” Y/N murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. She cranked her neck up a bit, capturing Minjeong’s lips with her own.The kiss was short, but sweet. 

“Give me a second.” Minjeong pulled away and stood up. She walked to the bathroom, only to come out a few minutes later with a warm towel, the strap long gone. She wiped Y/N’s slick with the towel. “There.” She kissed her thighs. “All better.”

“Thanks.” Y/N yawned, feeling the adrenaline go down. With a kiss on the forehead, Minjeong draped the sheets over Y/N’s body and went to put the towel with the dirty clothes. Once she came back, a glass of water in hands for Y/N, she saw the shorter asleep, soft breath coming out in a  rhythmic pattern.

With a smile, Minjeong put the glass on top of the bedside table, and laid down next to Y/N, hugging her in a spooning position. “Good night.” She whispered, kissing her head.

--

Minjeong’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the faint morning light filtering through the curtains. A small weight on her chest made her look down, and she felt a warm sense of contentment as she saw Y/N still peacefully asleep on top of her, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The memories of the night before played softly in her mind, and Minjeong couldn’t help but smile, feeling the flutter of excitement as she replayed each moment.

As quietly as she could, she slipped out of bed, glancing back one last time to make sure Y/N was still asleep. Her gaze softened as she took in the calm, almost dreamlike scene, the sheets tangled gently around Y/N’s figure. Minjeong tiptoed to the door, an idea forming. She’d make breakfast—a small thank-you for the unforgettable night. It was a romantic idea, though she was slightly aware of her less-than-stellar kitchen skills. Still, how hard could eggs and toast be?

In the kitchen, Minjeong looked around for ingredients, picking up a carton of eggs, bread, and a small handful of strawberries she found in the fridge. She fumbled with the egg carton, trying to crack one egg carefully, but her inexperience showed as half the yolk splattered onto the counter. With a sigh, she attempted to salvage the rest, pouring the little that remained into a bowl and giving it an optimistic whisk.

“Alright, toast… easy,” she muttered, sliding a couple of slices into the toaster. But in her focus on the eggs, she quickly forgot about the toast, not noticing until the faint scent of burning bread hit her nose. “Oh no!” she whispered, pulling it out a second too late. She sighed, shaking her head, but before she could attempt another slice, she felt two warm arms wrap around her waist.

“Good morning,” Y/N mumbled sleepily into her shoulder, her face pressed against Minjeong’s back. “What’s going on in here?”

Startled, the taller yelped, the spatula slipping from her hand as she accidentally touched the edge of the hot pan. A small hiss escaped her lips as she recoiled, cradling her finger.

Y/N’s groggy concern immediately turned to worry. “Oh, Minjeong! Are you okay?” She turned her gently, reaching for her hand and inspecting the small burn with a soft frown. Y/N’s fingertips were gentle as they grazed the spot, her eyes filled with care.

Minjeong chuckled, feeling a little sheepish. “I’m fine. I just… well, I thought I’d make you breakfast.” She gestured to the burnt toast and slightly undercooked eggs. “Clearly, it’s going… fantastically.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her smile warm as she grabbed a washcloth, running it under cool water before gently pressing it to Minjeong’s fingers. “I appreciate the effort, but maybe I should take over before you accidentally set my kitchen on fire.”

Minjeong laughed, feeling a rush of warmth as Y/N continued to dab her hand with the cloth. “Good idea. My cooking skills are... a work in progress.”

Once the small burn was tended to, they moved back to the stove. Y/N gave Minjeong a playful nudge. “Here, watch and learn, rockstar,” she teased, sliding a fresh piece of bread into the toaster and cracking a couple of eggs into a bowl. She whisked them with a practiced ease that made Minjeong feel both impressed and slightly jealous.

Minjeong leaned against the counter, watching as Y/N took over with a calm confidence, every movement precise and efficient. They made small talk, Y/N occasionally handing her tasks she was certain Minjeong could manage, like slicing strawberries or sprinkling a pinch of salt over the eggs.

“So,” Y/N said, flipping a piece of toast with a grin, “do you have a favorite animal? Something I should know about you?”

Minjeong smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Dogs, definitely. They’re loyal, energetic, and you know, they just… get me. Plus, they’re adorable.”

“Ah, dogs are cute, but…” Y/N said, pausing for dramatic effect, “capybaras are obviously superior. They’re the most laid-back animals, super friendly. They get along with literally everyone. Have you seen a capybara with an enemy? Because I haven’t.”

Minjeong laughed, crossing her arms in playful defiance. “Okay, they’re cute, but come on—dogs have the whole ‘man’s best friend’ thing going on. They’ll stick by you through anything. And capybaras… can they fetch? Can they protect you from anything scarier than a blade of grass?”

Y/N laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe they can’t fetch, but they’ve got a whole ‘zen’ vibe going on. They’re the ultimate chill friend. Imagine just lounging around with a capybara, no stress, just good vibes.”

Minjeong put on a thoughtful expression, clearly playing along. “Hmm, I don’t know… I still think dogs win. They have that cute tail-wagging thing going for them, you know?”

Y/N shook her head, grinning. “Capybaras have their own charm. And they’re practically zen masters. How can you compete with that level of calm?”

“Fine,” Minjeong said with a smirk, “I’ll concede they’re cool. But dogs will always be number one in my heart.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing as she placed their finished breakfast on the table. “You’re biased, but I’ll let it slide this time.”

They sat down together, the lighthearted conversation flowing as they shared bites of eggs and strawberries, laughing between sips of coffee. The breakfast wasn’t fancy, but it was perfect in its simplicity—an unhurried morning in each other’s company, surrounded by the warm, cozy quiet of Y/N’s apartment. They debated everything from favorite movies to worst concert experiences, sharing stories that filled the space with easy laughter and growing familiarity.

After a while, Minjeong glanced up, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes filled with warmth. “For, you know, helping me avoid another cooking disaster.”

Y/N grinned, reaching across the table to give Minjeong’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, rockstar. And for the record, I think you make a pretty great breakfast companion.”

They sat there, their hands resting together on the table, the laughter slowly fading into a comfortable silence as they simply enjoyed the moment.

--

As the week unfolded, Y/N found herself spending more time with Minjeong than she had anticipated. It was as if they’d fallen into an unspoken rhythm: stolen moments after work, late-night drives, casual dinners where laughter spilled over plates of food, and quiet, cozy mornings. They were comfortable together, moving with an ease that made Y/N feel like they’d known each other for longer than just a few weeks.

So when Minjeong had invited her to another one of the band’s shows that weekend, Y/N had felt both excitement and a small pang of uncertainty. They hadn’t talked about what they were, or even if there was a “what” to define. Minjeong was still this untouchable, slightly mysterious rockstar to Y/N, someone who lived in a world she didn’t quite understand yet. But when she was with Minjeong, all that fell away, and she felt like she was simply with… Minjeong. Her Minjeong.

Now, it was Saturday night, and Y/N was back in her studio apartment, prepping with her friends Yunjin and Minji. The small space was alive with laughter and conversation as the girls sat cross-legged on Y/N’s bed, surrounded by a scattered pile of clothes, shoes, and beauty products.

“So,” Yunjin said with a knowing look, pausing as she put on her earrings, “are you ready to see your ‘mystery girlfriend’ perform again tonight?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she rolled her eyes. “You guys are too much. And I don’t even know if she’s my girlfriend…”

Minji tilted her head, giving her a skeptical look. “Y/N, please. You’ve practically been joined at the hip all week. If that’s not girlfriend material, I don’t know what is.”

Y/N looked down, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her anxiety. “I just… I don’t know. I mean, we haven’t had any kind of talk about it, you know? We’re acting like a couple, but she hasn’t really said what she wants, and I don’t want to push it if it’s not… that serious.”

Yunjin shook her head, putting a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Look, I don’t know Minjeong like you do, but from everything you’ve told us… She’s definitely into you. And, girl, if anyone’s lucky to be with someone, it’s her with you. But you’ll never really know until you ask, right?”

Minji nodded, leaning back against Y/N’s headboard. “Yeah, Y/N. You’re not asking for too much if you want a little clarity. It’s only fair. And look, you’re already putting yourself out there by going to her show tonight. Just enjoy it, and if you’re still feeling unsure, talk to her after.”

Y/N looked between her friends, feeling a wave of gratitude. “Thanks, guys. You’re right… I guess I just have to ask when the time’s right.”

“And in the meantime,” Yunjin said, a mischievous glint in her eye as she rummaged through Y/N’s wardrobe, “we’re going to make sure you look so good that Minjeong won’t be able to look anywhere else.”

With a shared laugh, they dove into picking out an outfit, discarding options with a mix of critiques and approving nods. After trying on a few combinations, they finally settled on a black mini dress that hugged Y/N’s curves in all the right ways. She paired it with a cropped leather jacket and heeled ankle boots that gave her just enough height and an extra edge. Yunjin added the finishing touches with smoky eye makeup, making her dark eyes stand out, while Minji worked on her hair, giving it loose, tousled waves that framed her face.

“Perfect,” Yunjin declared, admiring their handiwork with a satisfied smile. “There’s no way Minjeong’s eyes are straying from you tonight.”

Y/N felt a flush rise in her cheeks as she looked in the mirror. The outfit and makeup were a little bolder than her usual look, but she loved it. There was a quiet confidence that seemed to settle over her, like she could step into this role with all the daring it demanded. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

As they left the apartment, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves mixed with excitement. They chatted and laughed as they made their way to the bar, their voices blending into the soft sounds of the city around them. When they finally arrived, they joined the steady stream of people entering the venue, Y/N’s anticipation growing with each step.

The bar was packed with people milling about, drinks in hand as they waited for the show to start. Y/N’s eyes immediately scanned the stage, where she spotted Minjeong and her bandmates tuning their instruments and chatting among themselves. Minjeong looked effortlessly cool, her dark hair falling over her eyes as she focused on her guitar, fingers moving deftly over the strings. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her lips curling into a small smile as she watched.

“Oh, she’s definitely noticed you,” Yunjin whispered, nudging Y/N with a grin as Minjeong’s eyes finally found her in the crowd. The look that passed between them was soft but charged, as if there was an unspoken understanding, a secret language they’d begun to share.

Minjeong’s gaze lingered, her lips curving into a barely-there smile before she turned back to her guitar, finishing up her pre-show preparations. Y/N felt a flutter of excitement, her friends giggling beside her as they settled into a spot near the stage.

As the lights dimmed and the band took their places, Y/N felt the pulse of anticipation building around her. The music started with a slow, captivating rhythm, the opening notes vibrating through the room, and Y/N felt her entire body respond to the sound. The crowd cheered, and Y/N joined in, her eyes locked on Minjeong as she played, her focus on the music but with occasional glances in Y/N’s direction.

--

The band finished their set to roaring applause, and Y/N clapped along with everyone else, though her heart was beating with a different kind of anticipation. The question that had been lingering all week—the one that haunted her whenever she was alone—was finally too heavy to ignore. Tonight, she was going to find out exactly what Minjeong wanted, no matter the answer.

As the crowd began to disperse and people headed to the bar, Y/N turned to her friends, her hands fidgeting slightly. “I think I’m going to go backstage, you know, to talk to her.”

Yunjin and Minji exchanged knowing glances before giving her reassuring smiles.

“Go for it,” Yunjin said, squeezing her arm. “We’ll be right here if you need us. You got this.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath as she maneuvered her way through the crowded room toward the backstage area. Her heart was pounding with each step, the noise from the bar fading into a soft hum as she neared the back of the venue. Finally, she slipped behind the door marked “Staff Only,” her resolve growing with every stride. This was it. She was going to get the answers she needed.

But as she turned the corner, her steps slowed. Her heart sank at the sight before her: Minjeong was leaning against the wall, laughing softly with another girl. Y/N couldn’t remember ever seeing her before, but she was gorgeous, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, and she had an easy, confident way of standing close to Minjeong that sent a strange chill through Y/N.

The girl’s hand was on Minjeong’s arm, her touch lingering a little too long, her body angled in a way that felt… intimate. Minjeong wasn’t exactly pulling away, either, and Y/N felt a painful twist in her chest. She clenched her fists, taking a deep breath as she willed herself to stay calm.

She was just about to step forward, determined to break up whatever was happening, when the girl leaned in and kissed Minjeong. It was brief, but enough—a soft, easy brush of lips that somehow felt like a punch to Y/N’s gut. Her chest tightened, her breaths shallow as the betrayal hit her full force. She hadn’t realized she was gripping her purse so tightly until her knuckles turned white.

A small gasp escaped her before she could stop it, and in that instant, Minjeong broke the kiss, her eyes flickering up. Her gaze locked with Y/N’s, her face shifting from surprise to something that looked a lot like panic.

The realization of what she’d seen—the kiss, the closeness—felt like it echoed through every part of Y/N. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t stand there, her heart breaking right in front of Minjeong, watching that guilt and regret take over her face.

Before Minjeong could say anything, Y/N turned on her heel, forcing herself to move, each step heavier than the last. She pushed past the door and back into the crowded bar, the lights blurring slightly as she blinked against the sting of tears. She caught sight of Yunjin and Minji by the bar, their smiles fading the moment they saw her face.

"Y/N, hey, what happened?" Minji’s voice was gentle, her hand reaching out to steady Y/N.

The words caught in her throat, and she forced out a bitter, trembling laugh. "Nothing, just… Minjeong kissing another girl," she managed, the words tasting sour. Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t bear the pitying look on her friends’ faces. She didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to relive that moment any more than she already was.

Her heart was racing as she pushed through the crowded bar toward the exit, desperate to be anywhere else. The cool air hit her face, grounding her slightly as she stepped onto the street. The sounds of the city buzzed around her, but it felt muffled, distant. All she could focus on was the ache in her chest, the betrayal that left her feeling hollow.

A cab slowed to a stop, and she climbed in, pulling the door shut behind her as though she could shut out everything she’d just seen. She was about to give the driver her address, but a familiar voice broke through the noise, catching her attention.

"Y/N!" Minjeong’s voice was urgent, laced with desperation, and it made Y/N’s heart ache even more. She turned her head, barely able to see Minjeong through the fogged-up window, but there she was, pushing through the crowd, her expression frantic, her eyes wide.

“Please, Y/N, just… let me explain,” Minjeong’s voice cracked, her hand pressed against the glass, her eyes searching for a sign that Y/N would stay.

Y/N swallowed, fighting the urge to listen, to believe whatever Minjeong would say. Part of her wanted to throw open the door, to demand answers, to let Minjeong explain everything away. But a stronger part of her, the part that felt the sting of betrayal and the bitterness of uncertainty, couldn’t bring herself to stay. She needed space, needed to figure out if any of this had been real at all.

“Please, drive,” she whispered to the cab driver, her voice barely audible.

As the car began to pull away, she looked back one last time, her eyes meeting Minjeong’s through the glass. The raw pain in Minjeong’s expression made Y/N’s heart twist painfully, but she forced herself to look away, gripping her purse tightly as the city lights blurred into streaks around her.

The ride home felt longer than usual, filled with too many thoughts, too many questions she didn’t want to ask. She rested her head against the cool window, letting the city pass by as she tried to hold herself together.

When she finally reached her apartment, she walked in on autopilot, her mind replaying the kiss, the look on Minjeong’s face, the panic in her voice. She sank onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, numbness washing over her. The memory of Minjeong’s laughter, the way her hand had fit perfectly in Y/N’s own, now felt painfully out of reach.

A part of her couldn’t believe it—that Minjeong, the girl who’d looked at her with such warmth, had let someone else kiss her. All those moments, all those glances, had they meant nothing?

She wanted to believe there was more to it, that maybe there was some explanation that could make it all make sense. But the image of Minjeong with that girl was seared into her mind, an unwelcome reminder that maybe she’d been naive to think she could have something real with someone who lived a life so different from her own.

--

Minjeong’s mind was racing as she followed her bandmates backstage, her excitement barely contained. She couldn’t wait to see Y/N’s face, to celebrate after another successful show and maybe—if she was lucky—steal a few more minutes alone with her. She smiled to herself, already anticipating Y/N’s laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when they talked about music.

As she was about to slip away to find her, a familiar voice called her name, and she turned to see Yeji, an old friend from way back. They’d always kept in touch, catching up whenever they crossed paths in the same city. Minjeong smiled, and they started talking, catching up on everything and reminiscing about old times. Minjeong tried to keep the conversation brief—her heart was practically pulling her toward Y/N—but Yeji was relentless, asking questions, laughing, holding her back just a bit longer.

Suddenly, without any warning, Yeji leaned in, her hands resting lightly on Minjeong’s shoulders as she pressed her lips softly against Minjeong’s. Minjeong froze, too stunned to move, her mind blank for a few seconds. The warmth and weight of Yeji’s lips jolted her, and she felt her pulse quicken—not out of excitement, but panic. She didn’t want this, didn’t want to give Yeji the wrong impression. She was about to pull back when a sharp, familiar sound—a gasp—pierced through her daze.

Her gaze shifted, and she saw her: Y/N standing in the doorway, her eyes wide, her face stricken, and in that single moment, Minjeong’s heart plummeted.

“Y/N—” she choked out, pushing Yeji away and taking a shaky step toward her, but Y/N was already turning, her face unreadable as she disappeared through the door.

She tried to follow, but Yeji caught her arm, her grip firm. “Minjeong, wait,” Yeji said softly, her expression shifting to something almost pleading. “I’ve had a crush on you for ages. I didn’t know you’d met someone.”

Minjeong took a breath, a pang of guilt and frustration flaring within her. This was the last thing she wanted. “Yeji, I’m sorry… I didn’t know. But I can’t… I don’t feel that way about you. I’m really sorry.” She gently pulled her arm free, her thoughts racing back to Y/N.

Ignoring Yeji’s disappointed look, she darted out, her heart pounding as she scanned the crowd for any sign of Y/N. Her chest tightened as she finally spotted her outside, getting into a cab. She ran, nearly tripping in her rush to reach her.

“Y/N!” she called out, the desperation in her voice startling even herself. She reached the cab just as Y/N closed the door, her eyes filled with pain, her cheeks streaked with tears. Minjeong pressed her hand to the window, her voice cracking as she begged, “Please, Y/N, just let me explain.”

But before she could say another word, the cab pulled away, and she watched helplessly as it disappeared down the street. She stood there, feeling a cold weight settle over her as the reality of what had just happened hit her. She’d lost her chance to explain, to tell Y/N that she hadn’t wanted that kiss, that it had meant nothing.

She stood there, feeling the emptiness stretch, gnawing at her heart, until she heard voices approaching—her bandmates and Y/N’s friends. Yunjin’s sharp gaze fell on her first, her voice laced with anger.

“Minjeong, what the hell were you thinking?” she snapped, her frustration clear.

“Did you seriously kiss someone else?” Minji’s voice was incredulous, laced with anger.

Minjeong shook her head quickly, her voice urgent. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t kiss her. She just… she kissed me, and I was in shock, and Y/N saw right before I could stop it.” She ran a hand through her hair, her frustration clear. “I tried to go after her, but Yeji held me back. I swear, I didn’t want it. I just… I just want to explain that to Y/N.”

Her bandmates and Y/N’s friends exchanged looks, the anger slowly fading from their expressions.

Minji sighed, crossing her arms. “Well, if that’s true, then you need to tell her. She’s probably at her apartment now. You need to fix this, Minjeong, because she looked heartbroken.”

Minjeong nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “I know. And I’ll fix it. I’ll make her understand.”

Without another word, her bandmates gestured for her to follow them to their car. They drove in tense silence, the weight of what she had to do pressing down on her, each second feeling heavier than the last. Her mind raced with thoughts of Y/N—was she still upset? Did she still care? Minjeong’s chest tightened with guilt, and she couldn’t stop replaying the image of Y/N’s tear-streaked face in the taxi.

The drive seemed to stretch on forever, but eventually, they reached Y/N’s building. The bandmates offered a few reassuring words as they stopped outside, and Minjeong gave them a tight smile. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll be okay.”

“Good luck,” Jimin added. “And remember, just be honest.”

Minjeong nodded, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the car. The sound of the door shutting behind her felt final, but she couldn’t back down now. She had to fix this, whatever it took.

She made her way up to Y/N’s floor, each step heavy with the weight of what had happened. When she reached Y/N’s door, she hesitated for just a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She raised her hand to knock, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

After what felt like an eternity, the door slowly opened, and there she was—Y/N, her eyes red and puffy, her face a mixture of anger, pain, and confusion. Minjeong’s heart shattered at the sight. Y/N looked… so distant, like a part of her had already started pulling away. Minjeong’s throat tightened, and she could barely whisper, “Hey.”

The word came out almost like a question, the same way it had the first time they’d met.

--

Minjeong lingered uncertainly in the entryway of Y/N’s apartment, every nerve ending buzzing with tension. She was here—finally here—but now that she was, she wasn’t sure where to begin. Y/N’s gaze was unreadable as she opened the door wider, the redness around her eyes still visible, stepping aside to let her in. Minjeong offered a tentative, grateful smile and slipped inside, her heart pounding, her hands slightly trembling as she followed Y/N to the couch. They sat down, a slight distance between them, and the silence that stretched between them was almost unbearable.

Minutes ticked by, the weight of the unspoken words growing heavier with each second. Minjeong swallowed, trying to summon the words she’d rehearsed on the drive here, but everything seemed to vanish. She could only manage short glances at Y/N, who sat beside her with her arms crossed, her expression still guarded.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N finally broke the silence, her voice quiet and tense. “If you have nothing to say, Minjeong, maybe you should go.”

The words hit Minjeong hard, spurring her out of her frozen state. She couldn’t leave it like this; she couldn’t lose Y/N. “Wait, Y/N—please, it’s not like that.” She took a shaky breath, steeling herself. “Please, let me explain what happened.”

Y/N didn’t respond, but she didn’t get up to leave either, and that was enough for Minjeong to press on. She took a deep breath, letting her words flow in a careful, deliberate way. She explained every detail—who Yeji was, how she had shown up backstage after the show, how they’d been talking and catching up, and how Yeji had leaned in to kiss her, leaving her frozen in shock until she’d heard Y/N’s gasp.

“I was so confused, and then I saw you there, watching, and everything hit me at once.” Minjeong’s voice cracked slightly, and she looked down, her fingers fidgeting nervously. “I should have pushed her away sooner. I should have known better. I… I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t know how badly I wish I’d done something different. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

For a long, silent moment, Minjeong could only stare down at her hands. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, waiting for Y/N’s response, but the longer the silence stretched, the more she worried she’d ruined everything. She was ready to give up and leave, then she heard a soft sniffle.

She looked up, her breath hitching at the sight of tears welling up in Y/N’s eyes. Guilt stabbed her all over again, and she scrambled for words, her hands reaching out as if they could erase the hurt she’d caused. “Oh god, Y/N… I’m so stupid for coming here. I shouldn’t have—”

“Minjeong,” Y/N interrupted, her hand reaching to cover Minjeong’s restless fingers. Her voice was soft, though still a little shaky. “It’s fine. I should apologize as well… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run off like that without letting you explain.”

Minjeong shook her head, trying to keep herself from tearing up. “No, Y/N, it’s… it’s my fault. I don’t blame you for leaving. I should’ve—”

“No,” Y/N said more firmly, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I mean it. I’m the one who didn’t communicate. I was so scared. We had such an amazing week and I had never felt more alive, but I didn’t know where the thing we had going on stood. I kept thinking if we were dating, or perhaps we were friends with benefits, maybe I saw just a fling. It’s just, I kept imagining things, that maybe I was the only one feeling like this.” 

Hearing this, Minjeong’s heart squeezed painfully. She looked into Y/N’s eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and she finally felt a surge of courage. “Y/N… no. I admit, I didn’t know where we stood either,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But what I do is that you were never going to be a fling, or friends with benefits. I know exactly what I want us to be. I want… I want to be with you. For real. No misunderstandings. No more second-guessing.”

For a moment, they only stared at each other, a world of unspoken feelings hanging between them. Minjeong’s heart thudded as she searched Y/N’s face, praying she hadn’t completely blown her chance. Every nerve in her body was on edge, waiting for Y/N’s response.

Finally, she blurted out, breaking the silence with a surge of nervous boldness, “Do you… do you want to go on an actual date with me? Like, an official one. No ambiguity. Just us, out on a real date.”

A laugh bubbled out of Y/N’s lips, soft and warm, melting away the last traces of tension. Minjeong’s heart leaped at the sound, her nerves easing as Y/N leaned in close, her eyes softening as she brushed a gentle kiss across Minjeong’s lips. The kiss was passionate, you could tell they put their emotions into it.

“Of course, Rockstar,” Y/N whispered against her lips, her voice playful but full of warmth. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

They stayed close for a moment, their foreheads pressed together, smiling softly. Y/N felt a wave of relief, joy, and contentment washing over her. She finally felt steady, knowing exactly where she stood—and that they both wanted the same thing.

As they pulled back slightly, Y/N’s smile turned into a smirk. “Now, about that date… Better be the best one I’ve ever had.”

Minjeong grinned, her fingers lacing through Y/N’s as she lifted her palm up to the mouth, pressing her lips against it softly. “Don’t worry. You can count on it.”

--

The anticipation was electric as Y/N and her friends, first in line, waited outside the small, buzzing venue where Minjeong’s band was playing that night. Minjeong had been hinting at a “surprise” for days, and now Y/N could barely contain her excitement—or her nerves. It had been months since they’d started dating, each moment with Minjeong a blend of excitement and sweetness, wrapped up in laughter and stolen kisses. Tonight, though, felt different. There was something in the way Minjeong had looked at her earlier, a glint of mystery that sent Y/N’s mind spinning with curiosity.

Inside, the dim lights and pulsing bass amplified the thrill as Y/N’s group found a spot close to the stage. The energy in the bar was buzzing, everyone hyped up for another of the band’s electrifying performances. But Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off Minjeong, who was tuning her guitar, fingers moving with an effortless grace Y/N had grown to love. Even from a distance, she could see Minjeong’s usual confidence mixed with a touch of nerves—unusual for her rockstar girlfriend, and it only heightened the suspense.

The band launched into their set, and Y/N was mesmerized. Minjeong was magnetic, every note and strum pulling Y/N closer. Minjeong’s voice filled the bar, warm and rich, pouring emotion into each song. Y/N knew this band so well by now—the rhythms and riffs, the way Minjeong’s bandmates complemented her, each song a testament to how well they all fit together. Her friends were cheering, caught up in the music, but Y/N could only focus on Minjeong, who kept sneaking glances her way, eyes flickering with something unsaid.

As the band neared the end of their set, Minjeong glanced back at her bandmates, who each nodded with knowing smiles. She took a deep breath, stepping up to the microphone. Her voice was a little shaky, but her gaze was steady, locked on Y/N.

“So, uh, before we finish tonight… I wanted to share something special with you all,” she began, and there was a hush as the crowd quieted, leaning in to listen. “A few months ago I had no inspiration. I couldn’t write anything, and then I met my muse. Writing this song was like drinking water, or breathing air. That easy. This is for someone who means everything to me. She’s my inspiration… my best friend… the person who makes everything else just fade away.” Minjeong’s cheeks pinked a little under the lights, and Y/N felt her own face warm, her heart pounding.

“I wrote this song for the love of my life. It’s called No.1 Party Anthem.”

As the first chords filled the room, Minjeong’s voice softened, pouring out with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. The lyrics felt like a confession, each line weighted with meaning that reached out to her across the crowd. Y/N’s heart swelled with each word, and as the song progressed, Minjeong’s gaze never wavered—she sang to Y/N and Y/N alone, the entire bar falling away until it felt like just the two of them in a quiet, intimate moment.

Y/N’s friends glanced over with smiles, nudging each other knowingly as they watched her try to hold back tears. The raw honesty in Minjeong’s voice filled the room, carrying emotions that had only deepened over the months. Each word told a story, and Y/N could see herself reflected in the lyrics—the late-night laughter, the whispered confessions, the stolen moments that had come to mean everything.

The look of love, the rush of blood

The, 'She's-with-me's, the Gallic shrug

Y/N felt it then: the dizzying sensation of being seen and adored so purely. Her pulse quickened, and she could almost feel the warmth of Minjeong’s hands even from this distance. It was like the world had faded to black and white, the two of them in their own silent film, yet vibrant with color and meaning only they could see.

The shutterbugs, the Camera Plus The black and white and the color dodge

It was a feeling she hadn’t known before, the security of having Minjeong’s affections worn so openly in her words, in her melody, in every single note. Y/N knew then what her friends had always teased her about—that Minjeong would have eyes for no one else, that she belonged here, in this moment, by Minjeong’s side.

The good time girls, the cubicles

The house of fun

As the bridge filled the room, Minjeong’s voice grew stronger, emboldened, and Y/N couldn’t stop the rush of emotions. The energy was intense, so raw and unfiltered, like being caught up in a whirlwind that spun just for the two of them. It was exhilarating, dizzying, grounding—and yet, she felt like she could float away at any moment, lifted up by Minjeong’s words and the crowd’s rapt attention.

The weight of their love, the certainty of it, settled over her. Everything was crystallizing; all their shared laughter, late nights, and whispered secrets between songs. Minjeong wasn’t just singing for a crowd—she was singing for Y/N, for their memories, for their future.

The number one

Party anthem

The song was reaching its end, and Minjeong’s eyes softened as she held the final note, her expression open and vulnerable. Y/N’s heart felt like it was on fire. She hadn’t realized it until now, but this was exactly what she had needed: this quiet, beautiful assurance of how much she meant to Minjeong.

As the song faded, the room erupted in applause, but Minjeong’s gaze stayed locked on her, a private smile on her lips. Y/N could feel her own smile breaking free as tears blurred her vision, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. It was as if Minjeong had taken her heart and woven it into the song, showing Y/N that every note was a promise, every word a reassurance of what they had.

As the applause subsided, Minjeong slipped off the stage, making her way through the crowd toward Y/N. Her friends cheered her on as she moved closer, and Y/N’s heart raced as she finally stood face-to-face with Minjeong, who looked at her with a nervous, hopeful smile.

“Hey, rockstar,” Y/N whispered, unable to contain her grin.

Minjeong chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “So… what did you think?” she asked, a little shyly, her gaze unwavering.

Y/N’s voice was thick with emotion. “That was… perfect. I loved it.”

Minjeong’s eyes softened, and without a word, she pulled Y/N into her arms, holding her close. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, while the rest of the world buzzed around them. It was a quiet moment in the middle of the chaos, a moment just for them.

Y/N looked up, meeting Minjeong’s eyes. “I guess that makes me your No.1?”

Minjeong laughed, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “You always were.” 

a/n: this is in my top 3 song from AM, so i thought it deserved a fanfic.

[airasora]

saw someone say stolitz is handled better in fanon than in canon because "there's not a lot of obvious signs of them falling in love." thoughts?

... what.

Not a... not a lot of signs of them falling in love??? My dude, my girlypop, my enby... ARE WE WATCHING THE SAME SHOW 🤣🤣🤣

I could write an essay about how obvious it is that they're both pining for each other, but I'll just make a list instead.

Stolas

Love at first sight

Brings Blitz and his coworkers to The Harvest Moon Festival just because (not to fuck or for safety, but just to be nice to them all)

Instinctively knows when Blitz is in danger ("I have my ways", oh, please, Stolas, you're keeping an eye on him cause you care)

Watches soap dramas while pining for Blitz

Is excited about their first date and goes all out with his looks for it

Wants desperately to actually TALK with Blitz

Asks Blitz about his day

Wants to hang out with Blitz just to hang out

Understands and validates the importance to Loona's shot despite being in actual danger himself

Has TWO songs about being hopelessly in love with Blitz

Goes out of his way to give Blitz a way to go to the human world without him even though he risks Blitz not wanting to see him anymore

Despite Blitz' initial rejection, Stolas doesn't cry until he thinks Blitz thinks low of him (proving that he was understanding if Blitz wanted nothing to do with him anymore

Despite being angry, sad, and drunk, Stolas still helps Blitz hide at the all of Blitz' exes party

Instinctively looks at Blitz for permission to dance with the "Better than Blitz" guy

Blitz

Millie calls Stolas Blitz' boyfriend (confirming she knows Blitz has feelings for Stolas)

Gets flustered when trying to explain his situationship with Stolas (if it was purely professional, why does it make him nervous to talk about?)

Despite only inviting Stolas on a date to spy on Millie and Mox, when Stolas tries to actually talk with him, he turns to face him and tries to talk too

Blitz is clearly very hurt after the Ozzie's incidence

Blitz immediately parties hard and tries to hook up with multiple after Ozzie's (a typical response to someone who is hurting romantically)

Gets flustered from seeing human Stolas (there's a tiny blush)

When Blitz realizes Stolas can actually get hurt, he looks terrified

The entire apology tour is legit just to prove something to Stolas (and himself)

Despite having hurt many people, Blitz clearly cares the most about having hurt Stolas

The way he looks at Stolas when he's confessing his love for him AND during their talk at the party

Gets hella jealous when Stolas kisses someone else

I haven't watched episode 10 yet nor the last two shorts, so I could probably add more to these lists, but even without those, there's plenty of proof of them falling in love.

Whoever said this must not be good at reading in between the lines. No shame, but... they're objectively wrong 😂

[lurkingshan]

Every You, Every Me

Story 4 (Part 2)

Picking up from where we left off.

Man, you should NEVER butt into a harassment situation without actually knowing what is going on. I would have left, too.

Sad, though, I was hoping for more sex and dick jokes instead of drama.

This plot has taken a weird turn. And kind of a boring one tbh. I don't really care about this Phukan drawing credit conflict. Let's get back to what we're here for, please.

Thank you, show 🙏🏻

Ope, James from the flashbacks is indeed an ex. He looked so uncomfortable at that marriage proposal? Weird vibe since it seems they didn't actually break up, but perhaps just a weak acting moment.

I love it when romance shows remind us it's fine and normal to have significant past relationships and people can love more than one person in their life and there's no need to be weird about it.

Okay that said this love confession and "I can't live without you" feels pretty fast for these two.

This shot through the shower curtain is strange, it's making Sian look like a ghost.

Hell yeah, rip the towel off! I love that we keep seeing shots of those painted blue nails.

Sian looks gorgeous in the window in that morning light.

Oh no he's singing... okay it's not nearly as bad as a lot Thai drama singing, I survived.

Cuuuuute montage during that song.

It must be said though that "you're my favorite musical note/you're my favorite work of art" are such cheesy lines.

Hahahaha little brother you really need to start knocking.

HEY THEY ARE MONTAGING ACROSS THE STORIES ALL OF A SUDDEN

OMG @twig-tea was right!!!! They are actors making a series of BLs yasssssssssssss

"You and Your Beautiful Soul" is the show they're currently making.

Is this breakup scene yet another BL, or the real guys?? OMG

New names Pun and Inn (which matches with the previous brief glimpse of BTS). I think these are the actual actors who have been playing all these other characters.

FIAT IS BACK

YEP, they showed up to set upset from their breakup.

"You're not me, you don't understand." WTF that line is the same as in the breakup we just watched.

Oh, so they breakup and make up frequently.

Who is this sassy tall man 👀

Ope, and next week we seem to be staying with this story of the actors instead of changing up again. This has been the real narrative all along, and it tracks well with the stuff I noted in my binge watch--the changing names, the performances getting better as the episodes go on, the way the physical intimacy differed so much and built to be stronger across each story. All of that makes perfect sense if they're an actor pair working together across multiple shows and getting more seasoned and comfortable as they go. Such a smart concept. I'm curious if we'll learn when they started dating and about the arc of some of those previous breakup and makeups against their BLs. I hope so!

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

I always feel pretty dumpy after getting dumped. Tonight was no different. I decided to walk the grounds one last time, and the tranquil beauty of the gardens seemed extra mean somehow. Like I was walking through something beautiful that I never even got a chance to miss. No chance to enjoy. Just rejection. Again. And the same message, though at least this time they tried to be kind about it.

Please never practice magic like that again. Bards were mages until you were too good at singing. Then things got suspicious to the headmasters. Song could be such a powerful tool and manipulate people across the field the way that death could. Put death and song together and humans always got so uncomfortable. And when it came to humans, nothing was more unlucky than a sweet death. They say the way they want to die is old and in bed surrounded by their families but...it's never true. Every single one of them secretly yearns for some kind of glory in their hearts, and it just rots and rots and rots as they age. I'd know. I'm human too. But I'm also banshee and people can just feel it. Especially those who are academically inclined. In some cultures they saw us as prophets... until they learned that the angels sing in our ears and fall out of our throats. Also people only like the idea of prophets. Tell them enough future truth and they start looking for the matches and rope. Or a crucifix.

Bewitchment. Enchantment. Manipulation. No one wants to invite a banshee to the table where everyone is sweet and happy and alive with rosy cheeks and laughing eyes.

I'm an omen. It's kind of lonely. But I get it. I suppose if I were someone else I'd feel the same.

I found myself in a gazebo near the tallest of the little sculpted waterfalls in this garden. I liked the way the water sang and flowed as it poured itself over the rocks. It was summer, so there were fireflies, and I could get back to being lost in my thoughts a bit as I watched the way they all twinkled around each other. My son used to say they were all teleporting. I laughed at him, kissed the top of his head, and earmarked that for later because that might be something he ends up being keen at. My daughter used to say she had the power of the forest when she was very young, and gods if she couldn't tell you exactly what creatures were thinking when they wanted something. The more specific the better with my daughter.

I shifted, crossing my legs over each other and anchoring my elbows on the wooden railing and letting my chin fall heavily into my palms. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, trying to catch and understand the direction and pattern to the way the wind blew tonight. The air smelled like roses and jasmine and I looked up to see the little white flowers hanging from their vines right above me. There were lanterns of golden light and everything felt smoky and indigo. A moonlit darkness that was so easy to see around but too misty to see through.

Was it the song, I wondered? I replayed the interview in my mind. I've been learning how to perform on a stage and have gotten to this point where I fall fully into the music. I don't let my mind control the song anymore, but trust my heart to attune and express it authentically. Sometimes my heart sounds drunk or bitter. Sometimes it sounds like delight and perfection. Today... I couldn't remember. I'd found that I could trick people into thinking maybe I was some sort of reformed cleric turned bard if I sang religious songs. Today I considered a shanty because those work too. But in the end I settled on a lullaby and at first everyone looked peaceful and happy but then that look came into their eyes when they realized where they were and what was going on.

Someone told me once that it was frightening to find yourself suddenly disarmed, especially if being vulnerable wasn't something you were used to being with people. I saw that happen in real time today, and suddenly understood what he meant.

Yay, more awareness.

That brought a bit of temper to my system so I stood up and walked over to the stream to sit down. The grass was wet but I didn't care. I took off my shoes and put them into the water that ran clear and cold over a stone bottom. It was deep enough to cover my ankles. I put my palms to the earth behind me, took a deep breath, and let my head fall back as I sighed it out.

I was so fucking disappointed.

But, I'd still done it. I took the chance. I learned something. All of it sucked. I'd maybe built a few sandcastles in my mind about how my life would fit into the routine that school would have brought me. I let myself sit and grieve what was never mine but still felt lost to me. I imagined the tide of this rejection crushing all the sandcastles in one giant wave. I felt my emotions rise out of my heart, making my throat sore, took another deep breath, and sighed as I let the tears release the sadness and flow down my cheeks like the current at my feet.

Fuck, I really really wanted something else to happen. I wanted the outcome I wanted. And I didn't want any other outcome. I didn't want to go to another school. I didn't want to look at other schools. I didn't want to be a bard if I couldn't go to this school. I didn't want anything.

My body shook with a little sob as my shoulders slumped back.

I didn't want anything ever again and-

Suddenly I was laughing, and I just collapsed. I laughed and cried at the same time and rolled around in the grass. If I was going to be a fucking child like this about this I was going to commit and be a child. My heart was broken a little bit and the grass was so wet and awful but it smelled so good. I closed my eyes and cursed as I realized my hair was going to be wet now that I did this and...

There was a cough and a "Ma'am?"

I froze like a rabbit. Then I closed my eyes tighter just in case this was a dream and I could escape the inevitable embarrassment of someone from the school that rejected me seeing me rolling around in the grass like an animal. The moments clicked by awkwardly and I didn't cut to the next scene, so I opened my eyes to face the music.

Security guard. Handsome. I always liked a man in uniform. Flirting was not going to help me escape embarrassment but it could make this story more interesting. As though he were reading my mind, his face darkened with an expression that read plainly don't even try it. Great, a challenge. The only thing I can't resist. His arms crossed as we both seemed to take in each other's character in this particular moment. He scowled deeper.

I sat up like a naughty child and patted at my hair, then shook it out like a dog would. He was watching closely. My head tilted to the side and I beamed angelically. "Sorry, you caught me making grass angels," I chirped merrily.

In order to be admitted to a magic school potential students only need to provide irrefutable proof that they are mages, yet, despite your very obvious abilities, you were rejected with a comment asking you to "please never practice magic again".

[cher-rei]

love song ♬– chapter 7 [ J.M ]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!oc

summary [please read]

genre(s): strangers to lovers, fluff, football romance and comfort [love song playlist]

[w.c: 3.8k] masterlist

notes: another update ahhhhhh!! just some more cutesy moments of my two favourite people ever <33 (they're so disgustingingly cute, it's making me sick)

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the week leading up to the quarter final unfolded like a warm breeze, carrying jamal and noelle’s secret relationship on it's gentle currents. stolen glances, whispered conversations, and fleeting touches became their language, spoken only to each other.

the boys had gotten back to camp sooner than expected, a 2 day break being more than enough. after what had happened at the movie night, where sophia and aaliyah found out that jamal was over they tried to milk noelle for any bit of information they could. but she was surprisingly calm about it, sending them looks of judgement for thinking that she'd do anything.

“I don't know where you think I'd get the courage for that,” she said, not looking up from her notes on the kitchen counter. “the most we did was fight over the popcorn.”

aaliyah leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to decipher noelle's attitude. she sent sophia a glance, the brunette merely shrugging. “and what about the denmark match? you do realise that there are pictures up of–”

noelle drew her lips into a thin smile, and finally looked up at her friends. “that was out of my control. but there's nothing going on, he's a good friend though. glad to know that I'll have some company back in munich when the tournament is over.”

aaliyah's eyes narrowed, her gaze lingering on noelle's serene expression. “you're awfully calm about this.”

her smile never wavered. “what's there to be upset about? we hung out, watched a movie. that's it.” she got back to her books, her focus solid. “and you can blame any of those denmark rumours on your boyfriend.”

they had no choice but to believe her because they knew how jittery she got when hiding something from them. but this was something that noelle wasn't ready to let out yet, so she put her discipline to the test and fought it out— because she'd like to enjoy the privacy for a bit longer.

the quarter final was looming, merely hours away when the three friends arrived in stuttgart after the 3 hour drive. the excitement was palpable, the town beautifully decorated with their county flag, performers in the streets, merchandise stalls and tourists all flooding the streets on the way to their hotel.

they didn't waste that much time with getting ready, their corresponding germany jerseys weighing a lot more than they hoped. naturally, they were anxious but tried to keep the mood as light as possible and before they knew it they were back in the stands.

as they took their seats, the electric atmosphere enveloped them. the stadium was a sea of german flags, with pockets of spanish supporters scattered throughout who were just as excited.

hand in hand, the three friends watched as the teams emerged from the tunnel with laser focus and silent prayers. someone caught noelle’s eye and she was quick to point him out with an eager finger. “it's the boy— the child!”

both aaliyah and sophia turned their attention to the moroccan 17 year old on the pitch, their eyebrows furrowed. “he looks so much younger in person,” sophia said with her mouth agape and the other two agreed before going silent to sing along to their national anthem.

the captains of the two teams shook hand and exchanged flags, quick to get into their positions and wait for the whistle to blow. noelle took a deep breath, her brief conversation with jamal on the phone the night before sitting on her chest.

he was nervous and called her after midnight for some reassurance. noelle as obviously still awake at that time, her laptop on her lap as usual as she carried on with her thesis. when she saw his name pop up on her phone she couldn't hide the smile on her lips and happily answered.

“can't sleep?” she asked when picking up, not even a proper greeting which caught the footballer by surprise, his silence answering her question.

“oh, so you can read minds?” he said playfully. “aren't you just full of surprises.”

a soft giggle left her lips and she got comfortable on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. there was a beat of comfortable silence again, and she could already picture him staring at his ceiling.

“I'm assuming you called me because you're nervous for tomorrow.”

she heard his sheets shuffle from the other end of the line, his inevitable tossing and turning making her sad. “I'd be lying if i said that I wasn't,” he admitted, his voice low and introspective.

noelle's tone turned soothing, his need for comfort was the first thing on her mind. “you're prepared for this, you've got an entire team behind you.”

“I know,” he sighed. “it's just… this feels different. it feels like everything.”

her heart went out to him. she would never be able to understand the pressure that he was under, but even if her words eased his mind a bit, she'd be content. “you're going to be amazing. you always are.”

she bit her tongue, unsure if she was ready to admit anything more. “but just know that no matter what happens, it’s going to be okay. you had fun, and did all that you could with the rest of the team, okay?”

a groan was heard from his side, and jamal did all he could to suppress the smile on his face. he felt like a teenager. her words made him feel so safe. “you're killing me here. I don't know how long I can keep my mouth shut.”

noelle stifled a laugh, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of her shirt. “it's been a week. if anyone asks, you're just a really good friend.”

“no, no, no. don't say that,” he teased, his voice playful. “you'll jinx me.”

noelle laughed. “I'm not superstitious, but if it makes you feel better, I'll knock on some wood.” she rapped her knuckled on the coffee table, knocking thrice.

“there, happy now?” she asked with an eye roll, earning a hearty chuckle from jamal.

“yeah, thanks for sacrificing your dignity for my sanity.”

she stifled a scoff. “anytime, superstar.”

“hey, watch it,” he teased. “I'm still your best friend, remember.”

her smile was sly, a tell tale that she was enjoying this more than she expected. “for now.”

his gasp on the other end of the line had her throwing her head back in laughter. “you're such a tease, you know that?”

her laughter was music to his ears. “you started it.”

the crowd's roar brought her back to reality, the match was underway and her attention was back on the pitch, her nerves resurfacing that she couldn't quite shake off. she had faith in the team, but there was always a need to be prepared for the worst. and knowing how bad this would affect the boys if they lost, they already had a plan.

germany were dominating the game, however spain made use of their possession and were ruthless on their wings. lamine yamal on the right and nico williams on the left were any defender’s worst nightmare, and rightfully so.

the weather was actually quite warm for once, the sun beating down on them that late afternoon. as germany maintained their aggressive pace, spain's swift counterattacks kept the german defence on high alert. the warm sun best down on the players, sweat-drenched faces etched with determination.

as the referee blew his whistle, signalling a brief water break, the players welcomed the respite from the scorching sun. germany and spain alike sought shade, guzzling water and towels to cool down.

the camera, seeking to fill the lull, panned across the stands. sophia, noelle, and aaliyah appeared on the massive screen, their faces beaming.

jamal's eyes, scanning the sidelines, locked onto the screen. noelle's image captured his attention.

her smile, radiant and carefree, stole his breath. for a moment, the fatigue, the pressure, melted away.

his lips curled into an unconscious smile. her eyes were sparkling as she spoke to her friends, laughing, unaware of her face on the stadium's screen. she wasn't known in the media, only surfacing these last few months because of the tournament and her connection to florian and kai.

she was private— a normal university student from munich who was part of a more popular circle. but they loved her. the media loved her, the photographers these 2 months were having a ball of time capturing candids of her at the matches.

she didn't mind of course, and bashfully welcomed the silent attention because there was no point in fighting it.

aaliyah's enthusiastic waving and sophia's bright grin surrounded noelle's serene image. she simply showed sophia something on her phone, a smile drawn to her lips as she effortlessly ran her fingers through her hair.

but jamal's gaze remained fixed on her, his jaw slacked and heart. the camera lingered, capturing his reaction. a fleeting glance and a soft smile. unaware of the audience, noelle's eyes shone with excitement.

the referee’s whistle pierced the air and the water break was over, the game commencing almost immediately and then reaching half-time with a 0-0 draw. the final score was actually unpredictable at this point, which only made it more nerve-wracking.

there wasn't much to do at halftime besides take pictures and update their socials, and pray that the second half of the match actually played in their favour. and so it did, for a good few minutes at least.

dani olmo managed to hit the back of the net, 10 minutes into the second half and awaken the entire stadium in a matter of seconds. the spanish supoorters were out of their seats, rejoicing at the tie breaker while the home side watched in agony.

the rest of the match was a nightmare, both teams played well and had their chances, but none of them managed to stand until florian's goal in the 89th minute to reclaim their spot and hope for a victory. but what this meant was that they were going into added time, and possibly a penalty shootout.

aaliyah was out of her seat with her roaring cheers as usual as she watched her boyfriend run up to kai and jamal to celebrate. it was a breath of fresh air to break the tie, a sign of hope and triumph that they could emerge victorious.

the final whistle blew to indicate another short break before extra time, the teams huddling together for their last pep talks and words of encouragement. then 120th minute rolled around and spain scored their winning goal, a punch in the gut to the home side as germany couldn't equalise.

as the final whistle pierced the air, the stadium's energy deflated, leaving behind a sea of mixed emotions. germany's dreams had been shattered, while spain's jubilation echoed through the stands.

aaliyah and sophia, rushed onto the pitch, embracing florian and kai in tight hugs, their boyfriends' faces etched with disappointment and pride.

jamal, however, stood apart, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on noelle. her eyes, brimming with empathy, locked onto his, and for a moment, the world around them melted away.

the distance between them seemed insurmountable, yet her gentle smile beckoned him closer. noelle navigated through the throng of people, her eyes never leaving his. as she reached him, his restraint crumbled, and he opened his arms, enveloping her in a warm embrace.

the stadium's noise receded, replaced by the gentle pressure of noelle's touch. jamal's face buried in her shoulder, seeking solace in her warmth. the world around them faded, leaving only the gentle rhythm of noelle's heartbeat.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to jamal's frazzled nerves.

for a fleeting moment, they stood there, lost in each other's eyes, the pain of defeat temporarily forgotten.

the camera's gaze, however, lingered, capturing the intimate moment. the media's whispers began, speculating about the nature of their relationship.

“I hate to ruin the moment right now but I have to tell the interviewers that you're my really good friend right?” he asked, his voice muffled as he hid futher in her shoulder.

a meek laugh left her lips and she hummed in response, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “you can tell them that I'm your cousin too, but that's going to end badly eventually.”

they reluctantly pulled away from the hug, a shared soft smile in exchange for something more because there were still camera’s everywhere. suddenly, noelle felt a weight being dumped on her back, and to no ones surprise it was florian.

usually she would fight him off but today was an exception. she turned to face him properly and welcomed the embrace, his dramatic sighs and comments making it difficult for her to take the situation seriously.

“can you believe that referee?” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with frustration. “those calls were awful.”

noelle laughed, familiar with his post-match dramatics. “well, nothing you can do about it now.”

“we were robbed. daylight robbery!”

jamal was quick to interject, his brows furrowed as some of the staff members focus was on them, ready to capture any sort of reaction for an article headline. “dude, we lost. there's always next time, and they played a good game.”

florian scoffed as he let go of noelle, instead getting back to aaliyah who was more than welcome to comfort him. “the ref played an even better game then.”

“if any of this shit gets out tomorrow,” kai said, his face contorted with judgement with sophia at his side. “I will throw you under the bus so damn fast flo, I have no shame.”

no.elle

liked by sophiaamealia, aali.yah and 456 222 others

no.elle 🇩🇪🎀

view all comments below

spamjam._. trent sends his regards 😕♥️ (from the bench)

→ no.elle girl 😭

jamalmusiala10 you actually posted 🙈

→ user OH??

→ user 🤨

florianwirtz I'm getting trauama flashbacks 😮‍💨

→ no.elle you just got back to the hotel. the match ended 2 hours ago...

→ florianwirtz are you undermining my trauma??? as a psych student??

→ user @florianwirtz I'm howlingggg 😭😭

→ user @florianwirtz let the girl breatheeee 💀

→ no.elle @florianwirtz are you crying because you bottled a quarter final??? as a professional footballer?? take a damn seat.

→ florainwirtz i'm sat🪑

after the interviews and getting their bags, and noelle's very random interaction with jamal's mother and siblings, the group was invited to a team after party. noelle heard “party” and immediately knew that she was staying in for the evening, locked up in her hotel room with room service and her thesis.

sophia and aaliyah were set after picking up florian and kai's luggage and setting it in their shared rooms, while jamal had his own. after a much needed shower and meal, noelle was sat comfortably underneath the hotel sheets, the tv playing in the background as she worked.

the soft glow of the hotel room's lamps enveloped her, creating a cozy sanctuary. she snuggled deeper into the plush sheets, her laptop open on her lap as she typed away on her thesis. the tv's gentle hum provided a soothing background noise, a welcome respite from the day's excitement.

she told sophia and aaliyah not to stay out too late, seeing as they actually had things planned for the following day. the response that she got was, “thanks, mother. let us know if we need to be back in time to milk the cows for breakfast.”

as she typed away on her thesis, the words flowing with ease and with more understanding than before she flipped through her notes for cross references and whatnot. the evening wore on, her focus waning from time to time but she pushed through, that was until an unexpected knock on her door made her halt.

her fingers hovered over the keyboard, her slight confusion piquing when she saw the time at the bottom of her screen. 11:23 pm. it was far too early for sophia and aaliyah to be home, and the party was still going strong.

having no other choice, she threw off her covers and padded to the door. she peered through the peephole, the familiar face making her heart leap as she quickly opened the door to reveal jamal stood outside in a pair of sweatpants and tshirt.

noelle eyed him for a moment. “did you just get out of the shower?”

he raised his eyebrows playfully and she took a step to the side so that he could come in. “I wasn't in the mood for people tonight.”

noelle locked the door and leant back on the door, her arms crossed for further explanation. a teasing hum left her lips and she nodded. “I'm 100% sure that I'm a person as well.”

jamal's eyes were drinking in every bit of her demeanour, and how comfortable she looked. “a person that I'll always be in the mood for. there's a difference.”

noelle's cheeks flushed as his words washed over her, their intensity making her heart skip a beat. she uncrossed her arms. her hands falling to her sides as she searched for a witty retort.

“charmer,” she whispered more to herself and made her way over to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. she searched his eyes for answers, silently nitpicking at any sign for what he was really doing in her room this late.

he leant back on his hands, letting his gaze follow her every move with a gentle smile.

“you know what, since you're here you might as well— ah!”

before she could register, jamal's hands were on her waist, tugging her down onto the mattress beside him. her surprised laughter filled the room, jamal looking down at her with a playful smile. “you were going to invite me to stay weren't you?”

she rolled her eyes at the question, unbelievable. “maybe.”

he scrunched his nose, not too fond of the answer but he let it slide. his fingers gently traced her jaw before leaning in a bit more. noelle's eyelashes fluttered shut ans she titled her head upwards. the kiss was gentle, a soft brush of his lips against hers.

her hands drifted up, her fingers tracing the curve of his neck as he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around her. time melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the moment.

a giggle fell from noelle's lips and she swat him away to sit back in her original spot. she picked up her laptop and patted the spot beside her for him, an eager smile adorning his lips. “I have work to do but you're cute so you can stay.”

his eyes sparkled as he set beside her and she lifted her arm for him to take refuge under. he felt like a child, his heart pounding as he settled on her chest— his head resting on her shoulder.

as jamal settled into the warmth of noelle's embrace, he felt his entire being relax, like a sigh escaping from the depths of his soul. her arm wrapped snugly around him, a gentle anchor holding him fast, and he let himself be enveloped by her presence.

the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath his cheek was a lullaby, soothing his racing thoughts and calming his heart. the scent of her skin, a subtle blend of floral and sweetness, filled his senses, making his feelings swirl with tender intimacy.

his gaze drifted to the gentle curve of noelle's neck, the soft wisps of hair escaping her ponytail, and his chest swelled with emotion.

the sound of her typing was a gentle melody, a background hum that harmonised with the beating of his heart.

“you know for someone who’s never had a boyfriend before,” jamal broke the silence, his voice low. “you're really good at it.”

her lips pursed at the compliment, her cheeks growing warm because in actual fact, she had no idea what she was doing. “you're making it easy.”

In this quiet, sheltered space, noelle felt his defences dissolve, her guard dropping like a stone. she was vulnerable, open, and exposed – yet, paradoxically, she felt safer than he ever had before.

on the occasion he would take the liberty to point out a spelling error and joke about how he should've been an editor. noelle rolled her eyes at his gimmick, his gentle nature soothing. “you still haven't said anything yet.” she took a quick glance at the boy beside her. “about the match.”

a sigh left his lips, a telltale that he was trying to forget. “what's there to say? we lost, and the team is upset but it's normal. we’ve been here before.”

she didn't press the matter any further and placed a kiss on his temple, causing him to squirm beneath her grip in an attempt to hide his blush. noelle's soft laughter was a whispered caress against his ear. "aw, look at you getting all shy."

jamal's cheeks burned hotter, but he couldn't muster the energy to protest. being this close to her, feeling her warmth and affection, made his defences crumble.

as they settled back into comfortable silence, jamal's thoughts returned to the match. her gentle probing had uncovered a sensitive spot, but her quick retreat had soothed his frazzled nerves.

he appreciated her intuitive understanding, her ability to sense when to push and when to pull back. as the night wore on, Jamal's eyelids grew heavy, his breathing slowing. noelle's presence was a lullaby, rocking him into a peaceful slumber.

just before drifting off, he felt noelle's lips brush against his forehead, a soft whisper: "I'm glad you're here."

jamal's heart swelled, his thoughts muddled by sleep and emotion.

as noelle's lips brushed against his forehead, she felt a flutter in her chest, a delicate dance of emotions. happiness swirled with trepidation, like wisps of cloud entwining with sunshine.

her mind whispered doubts, faint but persistent: was she rushing into this? was she ready?

the fear of ruin lingered, a shadow in the recesses of her thoughts. what if their relationship imploded, leaving scars and shattered dreams?

but as she gazed at jamal's peaceful face, his features softened by sleep, her fears began to unravel. her thoughts drifted to the laughter they shared, the whispered secrets, and the quiet moments like this, wrapped in each other's arms.

she felt alive, her heart beating with a vibrancy she'd never known before.

she was scared, yes, but she was also open— open to the possibility of love, of heartache, of growth. the uncertainty was exhilarating, a rollercoaster of emotions she was willing to ride.

for the first time in her life, noelle felt ready to surrender to the unknown, to let go of control and trust the universe. she was falling, and she was terrified.

[nicestprinceofdeath]

The other day I was watching a film with the trope of some unpopular smart girl helping other no so smart popular girl get the boy and the boy finds it out and fall in love with the unpopular smart girl. So I thought why not that BUT instead, the girls fall for each other and the guy just befriend them, and jegulus. And now I want a fanfic.

So my thoughts were something like this:

Lily wants to write a song. She told James that she's writing a song for Marlene to Dorcas (even though the truth is she's writing it for Pandora/Mary, haven't decided yet), so it's a love song and James thinks it's the perfect excuse to tell her what he feels hidden in love lyrics. And James who is stupidly madly in love with her, tells her that he is super good with lyrics and stuff. But the truth is that he is not, so he asks the other marauders for help and they also don't know how to write lyrics, and somehow Sirius tell him that his little brother used to write loads of sad boy poems, so maybe he knows something about how to write lyrics. "Songs are poems with music, aren't they?"

So James tries to convince Regulus to help him who at first says no. Needing a good excuse (more than him been in love with James) for him to agree to help James, like a bet, a party or I don't know. Finally, Regulus accept to help him. And they start talking to each other and planning how are they going to do this, and Regulus teaching James some poetry and ahhh. They find a spell in which they can speak to each other without other people hearing them and hearing what the other is hearing (como un pinganillo de toda la vida or something like that). (I don't know the name in English, but like an earpiece to talk to each other, each in different rooms).

And with all this James goes to see Lily to help her with the song. Lily play the guitar a bit and shows James the background music that she had for the song. She asks him for suggestions for the song (a love song) and Regulus who is in other place (probably in some corner of the Slytherin common room or in his dorm) start making some beautiful love verses (or read some of his verses from his poems on his hidden journal with his secret love poems, obviously not about James) (he tries to change the pronouns and stuff like that but it's kind of easy to those because... The song Lily told James they were writing was from Marlene to Dorcas, so for Regulus both ships are similar. One Slytherin one gryffindors, James and Dorcas 's skins are dark and Marlene and Regulus are pale but maybe "we're not putting that James" "why not is not as it's not true" "yes I know but I don't know, I don't think it feets, even though the lyrics were beautiful". James talking to himself: "yes, they were, just a beautiful verses from a beautiful poet". Lily: ? Meanwhile Regulus on his dorm talking to James via spell: "shut up Potter and pay attention to what you should be doing. Okay if she doesn't think that feets maybe try with this..." James to Lily, back to reality: "Anyway, what about this instead..."

Also the quidditch rivalry, etc.

James hears the lyrics and loves them. Obviously tells Regulus all that and they continue talking and flirting and James continues helping Lily with her song and so weeks go by and James starts feeling more and more attach to Regulus and starts thinking that maybe he's not as in love with Lily as he thought, and starts he likes Regulus just a bit.

And you know it has to have drama, so in one of those James helping Lily and Regulus helping hidden in his dorm he forgets they're actually helping Lily doing her song so he let out the actual verses from one of his poems. Like: -bla bla he is bla bla (I don't know poetry), So James is like: "he?". And Regulus panics and corrects himself: "she! I meant she is bla bla".

And James being the curious and gossiper he is later would be like: "So... do you like anyone? Are those verses actually poems for the love of your life?" "no, and don't be dramatic" "you definitely like a boy! Tell me everything! Is he a Slytherin, one of your friends, or maybe he's in another house? Have you been telling us your poems?" "James just drop it, I'm not in love with anyone, I just like writing poems, okey?" "if you say so..."

We all know he didn't drop it, and he starts trying to figure out who Regulus is in love with. And mix with that he starts feeling a bit jealous of the guy who has Regulus attention and who he writes love sad poems about.

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Three

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My Daring Unfamiliar,

Quite coy of me to evade you? And what of your clever ways of evading me? I find myself no closer to figuring out your identity, though I feel more drawn to you than before. I too am glad you are not betrothed, as a vibrant woman such as yourself you should not find yourself shackled to one of the stuffy men of King’s Landing probably twice your age. It does seem to be their proclivity, as loathsome as it is. I am glad for your friendship, even if I do not know who you are. Even if I feel I will waste away and die without knowing who you are. To think, am I on your list? Are you on mine? I will admit I have my list narrowed down to six women, those that I think daring and smart enough to be you. Perhaps after this letter I will narrow it down even farther. I find I will be searching for your frazzled hair and short temper now that I know what to look for in this humidity. Of course I only jest. I am certain that what you think is unkempt is only marred because one is always critical of the face in the mirror, I am certain such wit and a sharp mind is accompanied by beauty to match.

How is it that a lady of noble birth would ever want to visit a place like Lys? Do you not know of its reputation? Of the pleasure gardens and pillow houses? Of the pirates that lurk there from the triarchy? I have not been there myself, but I do have a few of their coin, of which were taken off of a triarchy pirate. A gift, for you, is one of them I have sealed with this letter. You are an even bigger mystery to me now, knowing that a place such as Lys piques your interest so. But to answer your other questions, I have been to Dorne and Oldtown. Dorne is interesting, some parts a vast desert and others a beautiful oasis. Their wines and silks are the loveliest in all of Westeros, their people far less concerned with the pretenses that we are. Can you believe that I was asked to dance with a man’s wife openly? Such things could never occur here, although I will say that I did very much enjoy that everyone spoke plainly of their intentions and emotions. It was freeing to have that, and the courts proved all too constricting to me every day after. These letters to you are the closest I have had to that feeling since my travel there, and I appreciate you doubly for it. I am glad that I have found someone that I may converse openly with, ignoring status or titles or circumstances.

I will also say that the Queen is correct, Oldtown is maybe the most beautiful city in the kingdoms united. There is nothing more lush than its gardens, more splendid than its chateaus filled with artifacts and scrolls dating back to the conqueror, nothing more breathtaking than the flame at the top of the citadel.

I fear that you will find me boring, if I now admit my love of tourneys. I find the spectacle magnificent, and the skill and prowess on display to be a display of the strength of our shared kingdoms and crown. Perhaps I will find you and make it all the less boring for you. I do hope that my eyes will find yours amidst the crowd, and your countenance will make itself known to me immediately through some supernatural knowing. I will be searching for you in every row of the stands, praying to the seven that it will be easy. More importantly, tell me your favorite song, and I shall learn to play it for you. Or even, you may tell me your favorite poem and I shall transcribe it to song for you, a new creation of art for my Unfamiliar.

I do hope that I have discovered you by the next feast, so that I can ask you to dance properly, and that we may converse without the guise of the quills. So that I may grasp your hand to know that you are real. I assure you that I will be a spoiled man if I am to watch you dance circles around me, and a man utterly ruined if I get to steal more than one dance.

Your letters have cooled a part of me too warm, warmed a part of me too cool.

Truly,

Your Unfamiliar.

You look down at the golden ribbon tied into your sleeves for the day, your mind thinking only of the fact that he had underlined Your in his signing off. He considers himself yours. More, you think of the Lyseni coin that he had tucked into the parchment, a golden oval with the portrait of a naked woman engraved into it. An obscene gift for a lady of the court, but one you cherish because it is from your unfamiliar. Yours yours yours. It now lies in your jewelry box, a dingy coin amongst your finest of necklaces and rings. You have narrowed your list down. It is for certain not Darklyn or Beesbury. The names left are Lord Rowan, Ser Loras Florent, Ser Gwayne Hightower. You have picked out these ribbons for Lord Rowan, as a subtle sign of acknowledgment of his house colors, strikingly different from your own. You do not exactly wish it to be any of the men on your list, however. Lord Rowan is a complete stranger to you, Ser Loras you know to frequent married women’s beds, and Ser Gwayne… infuriates you. All of these men handsome and on parchment suitable matches, yet picturing any of them on the other side of the quill feels wrong. So you are hedging your bets in the days leading up to the tourney by attempting to garner the attention of the complete stranger. Maybe he is well traveled and sharp and charming like your unfamiliar.

Although you admit, the first day you did not see Lord Rowan anywhere within the Red Keep. Nor the day after that or yesterday. And now, the morning of the tourney, you hope that whatever hole he has crawled into he has emerged from so you can look into his eyes and figure out if he is yours. It’s silly, to think that you could tell, but maybe you can? Maybe this is like one of the fairytales you were told when you were young.

Only, it’s not Lord Rowan that you find in the hallways.

“Oh, please don’t tell me this is a new look for you,” Gwayne’s voice calls from the other end of the hall. How is it that the Red Keep is so large, yet Gwayne Hightower is inescapable?

“And if it is?” you call back. Gwayne closes the distance between you, his armor clanking the entire time. He is dressed and ready for his tilt in the tourney already.

“I’d say Lord Rowan is remiss for ignoring your efforts, but I’d also say you are wasting your time,” Gwayne smiles widely. He knows something. Your fingers start to fiddle with one of the ribbons, knowing you could easily pull them all out. It’s horrible, that for as rude you and Gwayne may be to each other sometimes, you can see that he’s not trying to humiliate you right now.

“Why?” you ask, pouting in frustration.

“Because he found out that he’s been writing to Lady Caswell, and now they are courting.”

Oh. That is a very good reason, indeed. You yank at the ribbon you’d been toying with, then the next one and the next one until your hands are full of the little ribbons, and hastily you look for somewhere to toss them, but there is none.

“Thank you for informing me,” you say, trying to steady your voice as much as possible.

“It seems you are no closer to finding out who writes you than I am.”

“I keep a list of his qualities to try to narrow it down.”

“As do I with my lady.”

“May I see your list?”

“Would you tell me who is on your list, if I did?”

“No.”

“Then my answer is the same.”

You are once again at an impasse with Gwayne Hightower, two immovable objects in the tide. 

“I hope you find your woman without the issue I face, I guess,” you offer, not exactly meaning it but not trying to be mean. If this is as trying for you, it has to be for every unwed person in the castle too. As much as your love for the Hightower family finds its limits at the brother, you still wish to carry on the tenants of this experiment for at least your friend.

“Then I shall see upon you at the tourney,” Gwayne says, and then tilts his head “Though I rather see you in different colors.”

“And what colors would you wish?” you ask, though you regret the words as they die on your tongue. He looks you up and down, and then scoffs.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Hours later, at the tourney, you are sat three seats away from Queen Alicent Hightower. You are dressed in the deep burgundy and blue color of your house and idly snapping your fingers closed on each of the elder Targaryen children’s hands; your fake predator of a hand keeping little Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena preoccupied for now. You wish that games like these could entertain you equally, but instead all runs through your mind is your Unfamiliar. Is he here, indeed? You hate that you have to be here, but yet you find your head almost whipping around in search. You told your Unfamiliar that you’d be searching for him; and you are. But with every turn of your head you seem to recognize and be bored of everyone. Bringing a favor to this event even feels silly at this point. You do not feel the spark you had hoped for. In fact, nothing draws anything besides boredom from you until late in the day.  

That is when Gwayne Hightower atop a horse galavants across the royal box and back again. Despite your ebbing annoyance from him earlier, you find yourself tensing in your seat. If not on your own, then on his sister’s behalf. You remember what she told you about the last tourney that Gwayne had attended in King’s Landing. To be almost killed by Daemon Targaryen himself, maybe the only person in all of Westeros you found truly and deeply loathsome and terrifying, is a memory that clearly stains the Queen’s outlook on this tourney. You tense and worry and stop your little game with the children in rapt attention, for her. 

His armor glimmers in the sunlight, blight enough to blind. His smile, though obscured by the helm, is similarly blinding. You’re certain he remembers his brush with death at the hands of the Rogue Prince, but his demeanor would say otherwise. He is the definition of confident bravado. This man looks foreign to the uncertain and studious man you spoke with the other day in the library. 

Lord Manderly has his horse trot and dance as he crosses the pitch, not yet a knight but clearly already presenting the same qualities as any of the rest of them. Soon, you are certain, he will be laughing and chasing women around with the rest of them. The northern stoicism does not seem to carry to this man, as he laughs and points into the crowd, at friends and serving people and women he may ask for favor. 

Both men cross back and forth, searching the crowds, their jousting lances upturned to the heavens as they circle, the crowd growing ever the more excited. 

You clutch your favor, unwilling to let it leave your grasp as a pit forms in your stomach every time Gwayne passes by the royal box. You look down the row of chairs to Alicent, who is already looking at you; her hands frustratedly pick at one another, her nails already rimmed with crimson. You offer her a weak smile, hoping it is enough to reassure her as the thought dawns on you: she has not seen her brother fight since that day. Sparring and training were nothing like this. And though Lord Manderly is no Daemon Targaryen, Alicent is really and truly afraid. You reach your free hand over the children’s heads, and her fingertips copy the gesture to brush against yours, your comfort not lost on her. It is moments like this where you feel truly wanted and needed here, and you could not imagine yourself traveling anywhere else. The love and friendship of the queen is almost enough. 

But her eyes snap away from your gaze, and your attention follows. 

There, resting at the railing, is Ser Gwayne Hightower’s jousting lance pointed at you. 

Shit.

Does he mean to humiliate you? A jape for your attitude towards him earlier? A way to twist and soil your efforts to find your letter writer?

You grimace at him, unsure of what to say as little Aegon fiddles with one of the ribbons on your favor. 

“My Lady, may your favor give me some of that fiery personality of yours. Perhaps your boldness will inspire the courage to win,” His smile is wide as he talks, as if he is holding back a laugh. You wish to snarl at him, hurl insult after insult, but his sister watches with rapt attention. 

“Perhaps you are already too bold, Ser,” you retort, but Aegon tugs harder on your favor. 

“My Lady, I will name you Queen of Love and Beauty if I win,” he presses, eyes darting to his sister before back to yours. It feels conspiratorial. 

“You wish me to have a line of suitors? How kind, Ser Gwayne.”

“I wish to repay a favor you’ve given me,” he explains, and begrudgingly you pull the favor from the little prince’s grasp to wrap it around the lance, the wine red and blue ribbons with embroidered grape leaves easily sliding down to where the base flares out, cementing itself on his weapon. The entire act feels intimate and strange, your handmade favor never having been given, and your eyes never truly meeting his for this long at once. Even from a distance, you can see the shining hazel. 

“You’d better win, I worked hard on that embroidery,” is all you offer, but anything else would feel far too tender, far too genial for the tense at best relationship between you. 

With that, Gwayne winks at you and has his horse trot off, proudly lifting his lance with your favor up to the entire crowd. The pit in your stomach deepens, realizing that if your Unfamiliar is truly here today, you now appear unavailable to him all because of Gwayne Hightower. You could hate him for this. 

But all you can do is sigh as you lean back into your chair, now completely ruined for the entire event. You chew your bottom lip as the dread settles in you, your hopes for the day dashed and taken away by your dearest friend’s brother. 

“Why do you look sour?” Aegon, who now has nothing to keep him idle, asks, “I’d name you Love and Beauty too.”

You roll your eyes as you give the prince a cheeky smile.

“I’m too old for you, little princeling. Move along.”

He sneers at you, but there’s no malice in the little boys face, and he turns back to his siblings to talk to them. Alicent looks over their heads at you, a curious and accusatory look on her face. You’d called her brother a brute, a ruffian, every rude name in the book but here you were giving him your favor with little protest as he talks of naming you Queen of Love and Beauty. Surely, she knows of her brother’s reputation, but you are the big question mark in this situation. 

“When did your loathing of my brother subside?” She asks, finally no longer picking at her hands as this now occupies her. 

“It did not,” you explain, “I merely helped him find a book the other day. He thinks this will repay me for my efforts.”

Alicent’s lips turn upward, a ghost of a laugh in the form of a sigh leaves her. She shakes her head, and finally her gaze breaks yours, casting her eyes to her brother on the field below. 

“Whatever he was looking for must have been very important,” The Queen mutters, and that ends the conversation. 

Gwayne and Lord Manderly line up, opposite sides of their tilt barrier on opposite sides of the list. Otto Hightower speaks, as Viserys’ voice does not find him lately. The King is weakening, today a rare public outing. You are certain that sooner rather than later, Alicent will take the reins and you will be her unofficial hand. 

“Let the final tilt begin!”

Needing no further encouragement, the men urge their horses forward, lances tilted forward and favors blowing in the wind. Gwayne’s lance finds purchase, easily shattering the wooden shield of Lord Manderly, the force of it pushing the northern lord backwards off his horse. However, this is the gruesome part. The moment Lord Manderly hits the ground, a squire brings forth his sword. Gwayne slows his horse, and jumps from the saddle with ease. He passes his shield and lance to his own squire, and reaches for his own sword. The two men run towards each other and finally you find yourself cringing in your seat. The memories of the Hightower Knight covered in blood flash through your mind as if they were yesterday. You grab the material of your skirt, white-knuckling the fabric to the point that you’re certain you’re ruining it.

You worry for Alicent, worry for the outcome of the tourney, worry for the fate of the favor you spent time making, and finally you let yourself admit that you do indeed worry for Gwayne Hightower. As much as he vexes you, you do not want him harmed. Being pompous is not a crime punishable by cracked ribs or bloodied eyes. Damning yourself and your superstitions, you allow yourself to pretend that your favor grants him some kind of protection spell. 

Gwayne’s sword clashes loudly against Lord Manderly’s, sparks flying as metals meet. He dodges and parries easily, and it becomes clear to you that he is the stronger fighter. It calms you, but only slightly. One wrong move could still give Manderly an advantage. But he disarms Manderly at the last moment, the sword flying through the air as Gwayne kicks the man down, his own blade pointed towards the mans face. 

He wins. Gwayne wins. 

You let out a breath, loud and relieved, no longer really caring about your appearances. Alicent too, untended her shoulders, and ushers for wine to be brought from your serving girl. The girls pour into both of your goblets seconds later, and both of you drink deeply. You look over to Alicent, whose other hand holds her seven pointed star in silent prayer, a torn up thumb rubbing meaningful circles across the points. 

“This fear does not become thee,” you remark playfully, smiling at her, “He is fine, you may celebrate.”

“And you may…” but her words die on her lips, now forming into a bigger smile than before as her attention drifts from you. Gwayne rides towards your box, lance back in hand as well as a crown of flowers.

He stops just ahead of you, his horse’s shoulder just against the box. You rise, and lean over to the edge of the railing, to the winning knight. 

“I chose the flowers, I do hope they bring joy to you even if I may not,” he tells you, and you cannot sense a jape in his voice. 

“Thank you, Ser Gwayne, I will wear them with honor,” you tell him, and duck your head down so he may place the ring of flowers, with a trail of flowers downward in the back, onto your head gracefully. His fingers, though gloved, are gentle against your head, his touch soft and careful. 

You rise up, the smile on your face not exactly facetious. As a child you did once dream of this very thing; maybe with a different circumstance, but you did wish this. That is, before you knew how much you disliked tourneys in practice. 

“My Queen of Love and Beauty!” He cries out, and the entire stadium cheers. 

It’s hours later that you finally get to return to your chambers and remove the crown to inspect it further. The ring itself is Mountain Larkspur, a fully poisonous plant. The thought makes you laugh, that Gwayne would pick such a toxic bloom for his Queen of Love and Beauty. But it is to be said that the Larkspur signify lightheartedness, humor, and an open heart. The trail of flowers that rested on the back of your head are Grape Hyacinths, which based on your family, should be a compliment to their legacy. But these flowers signify sincerity, and you’ve been to enough weddings to recognize them. They are more a mauve than a blue like the Larkspur, and those wealthy in the knowledge of bouquet language would know that they symbolize a desire for forgiveness. 

Curious, you think, that Gwayne would go out of his way to mention that he had chosen these flowers. Were they truly and truce between you? Was he trying to tell you something without saying it?

You push through thoughts from your mind, deciding not to dwell on them, lest they give you a headache. 

The quill in your hand touches the paper, releases, touches again. 

It’s quickly that you realize you will not get any writing done, even here at your library desk. You sigh as you push yourself up from your chair, hastily packing everything into your bag as if it pains you to do so. 

It is quick, the trip back to your chambers to change into your simplest dress and cloak, and back out into the hallways, and into the labyrinth of Maegor’s tunnels you had found years ago when Aemond was still just a wish. You pull the cloak closer to you by the strap of your bag, wrapping yourself in a bundle by candlelight as you walk the barely worn path, your candle the only light as you navigate past each stone. It took turning and and faith to get you towards the edge, and for the last twenty feet you blew out the candle for fear of getting caught, but finally the moonlight would hit your face. The tunnels set you out at a district of King’s Landing littered with taverns and food stalls. The food stalls you never saw, for you only come here when you need to write and use some ale in your belly to make the words move more easily. Sure, you could ask a serving girl to fetch you a flagon, but for some reason that did not work the way that writing in a dingy corner with the smallfolk does. Perhaps it is their songs, their open way of speaking, their camaraderie that inspires and spurs you on. 

You enter The Roost, the favorite of these taverns for you. 

“Girlie!” the barkeep calls as you enter, and you shush him as you rush towards the bar to order. As far as the owners of this tavern know, you are a well paying woman attempting to cover up an affair. While they are discreet, they do not hide their fondness of you or your coin. 

“Keep the ale flowing,” you tell the burly man, fatherly and kind, “I’ll be at my back booth.”

“Will do, girlie,” he responds, and you move to the other room behind the bar, a room with two long tables and six small alcoves each dotted with wooden half circle booths. The tavern is busy, but you move through the crowd deftly, easily reaching your little bench and placing your belonging down. You settle in easily, your parchments and your quill and ink easily spread out across the table and one of the barmaids brings you a large flagon of ale. 

You tip the rim of the drink into your lips and drink heartily, careful not to tip your head back too far or else your hood will tip off from your hair and expose you. 

Your quill hits the parchment more easily now. 

My Dearest Unfamiliar,

How dramatic! To think that you will die if you do not know my identity. Though I will not ease your pain, I will give no name in this letter. I find myself narrowing the list of who you may be: an unmarried man, a sensitive yet playful man, well traveled and well read, the best of all things. With words that compliment me, flattery flushing my own face as I read your letters. There are far and few men in the Red Keep that match that distraction. There are three men now on my list after this tourney, and I do hope that I have determined you right. Are you searching for a wife from these letters, I wonder? an a man not yet betrothed, it cannot be distant from your mind. I will have you know that I did not see you during the tourney, or at least I do not think I did. I tried hard to look for you, I looked at every man, but I was not sure what countenance to look for. I will say myself, I am not certain I want a courtship from this, but I do find myself more interested in the idea and the affection that comes from it with each of your letters. You are warming a heart usually icy, My Unfamiliar. Is it too forward to say that when and if I find your identity, I wish to kiss you? It will not be my first kiss, I admit, but I would want to bestow one upon you. Even if you did not want to court me, if only just to thank you for being a just and honest companion for me. I am not saying that I am hoping, but I am hopeful.

I will have you know, My Unfamiliar, that I have read A Caution for Young Girls by the Corinne Wylde, and read it well. The legends of Lys will not make me balk or shy away. I am, as I have said, interested in seeing the world warts and all. I want to see everything that the world can show me. I will say, I do appreciate your gift of the Lysine coin. It is exhilarating to hold something of value to a life so far from my own, to treasure it as if I would a jewel.

Would that I should thrive in a place like Dorne? To speak freely and open tongued. You make it sound such a lively place compared to this. How I wish to experience their wines in a setting where I can speak like the Dornish. Perhaps though, and most likely, if I may be granted leave from court, I will see how grand and lovely Oldtown is. I would love to spend an afternoon perusing the scrolls or reading inscriptions on artifacts just as much as I would enjoy any grand view or adventure.

I will tell you that I do not find you boring for enjoying tourneys, especially because I did not find myself as bored as usual at this one. Though I will say my amusement came from looking for you, I guess I can admire what a tourney is supposed to represent.I am saddened, though, that I could not recognize you immediately. I was hoping some sort of spell could overtake me and cast mine eyes only to yours. I however, just saw many faces in the crowd, and narrowed my list no further.

I find though, that I would appreciate any piece of art you would offer. I am a lover of the arts and a purveyor of understanding them. Jenny of Oldstones is a song I find myself drifting towards often, the lyrics catching me. How beautiful, a woman dancing with the ghosts of the past? How often do we all do the same? Is our love fated by stars, written into the histories? Or is love as fleeting as a ghost on the wind?

For the next feast, I shall try to come up with some coded word. Something we shall say to each other so we will know who we are. I fear giving a dance to just anyone, lest they try to court me and take me away from whatever is between us.

Yours as well;

Your Unfamiliar

The letter is, plainly, too forward. You do not care, though, as you finish off your ale and motion for another one. It’s only now that you look upon the tavern’s rooms, surveying the guests and all their revelry. Your eyes scan, casual and unassuming, until you fall upon a crop of auburn hair. Could it be? You look the the hazel eyes attached, surely, it’s him. But is it? No, it cannot be. The man makes no move towards you, no stern recognition in his gaze, just a simple gaze upon you as you stare back. And the spell is broken as another ale is set before you.

It cannot be him, you think to yourself.

[rekino2114]

F,J,N and X fluff alphabet prompst for hu jing

A/n:This was requested by @thisizaraisu I hope you like it

🦋F=flirting (how do they flirt? Does it continue even after they're in a relationship?)

Hu doesn't really flirt with you it's more like she courts you. She's more traditional when it comes to love and crushes, giving you flowers and writing love letters or poems about you. It's really sweet because she puts all her love for you in every gesture and act she does. She'll still do those things after you start dating, especially during special occasions

🦋J=jealousy (how jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Hu is a very mature person, so she doesn't feel jealous often. She knows she can trust you a lot, and she also knows there are people who don't respect certain limits. Even if she doesn't know the girl you're talking to, she won't get in the least bit worried unless she starts openly flirting with you, and even then, she'll let you handle it (mostly because she likes to hear you call her your girlfriend) unless she sees you're uncomfortable, in which case she'll scold the girl and give her a speech on how important it is to respect other's boundaries (she might pull her ear like she did with arei)

🦋N=nights (how do they spend nights with you?)

You always look forward to spending nights with hu, they might be some of the best moments in your relationship just because of how relaxing they are. She always makes you tea, and you have a nice talk while drinking it. She then helps you do your bedtime routine (she always makes sure you wash your teeth for the right amount of time and in the right way).she puts incense around, and you fall asleep together while cuddling. If you're having trouble sleeping then she'll play a song on her zither while singing a lullaby

🦋X=Xtra (a random fluffy headcanon)

She has a beautiful singing voice. You found out about that when you heard her sing in the shower, she was very embarrassed about that but quickly relaxed when you told her you loved it. Even though her ultimate is playing an instrument, she could easily be the ultimate singer with how beautiful her voice is. It's so relaxing too, literally just hearing her talk can make all the problems of the day melt away, and it's even better when she sings to you. That's part of the reason why her lullabies are so effective in helping you sleep

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

Check CHAERI'S LOVE LIFE'S TIMELINE to discover when this event takes place

Web article

August, 2023

Anyone who loves and follow KPOP, which has become a global phenomenon, cannot ignore the increasingly persistent rumors about a possible breakup between Chaeri, the only female member of BTS, and Hongjoong, the leader of ATEEZ. The two, long considered one of the most iconic couples in the music industry, seem to have taken separate paths: no more sightings together, absence of interactions on social media, and now a new very personal song by Hongjoong that has raised many suspicions.

Signs of a possible crisis are not lacking. Recently, Chaeri ended her contract as the choreographer of ATEEZ, a role in which she was considered the creative mind behind many of their breathtaking choreographies. A choice that many interpret as a signal of the young artist's desire to distance herself not only professionally but also personally. Even though Chaeri explained in a recent live broadcast that the collaboration with ATEEZ was always intended to be temporary and that she now wishes to focus on new projects with girl groups, fans remain puzzled and find it hard to fully believe her. The timing of the contract's end and the alleged distancing between her and Hongjoong appears to many as too strong a signal to be ignored.

As if that were not enough, Hongjoong has released a new song that seems to be an open confession, and perhaps an implicit accusation. The lyrics of the song, titled “Why Do You Love?”, enigmatically address someone who seems to have “replaced” or “forgotten” him. With intense phrases like “You can’t be with anyone else, only me” fans are hypothesizing that the ATEEZ leader is expressing his pain over the possible end of his relationship with Chaeri.

In the most dramatic lines of the song, Hongjoong sings: “You said you couldn’t imagine yourself with anyone else but me… I hope this is just a misunderstanding.” Words that leave no doubt about the artist's suffering and confusion, as if he is struggling to accept the reality of a lost love that he perhaps believed was to last.

Fans on social media have been very active about the matter, with many wondering if there really is another love in Chaeri's life, if the song is a desperate call from Hongjoong to win her back, or if the two things are not related at all.

For now, neither of them has made any official statements. The uncertainty about the truth behind these signals is splitting the fandom: some hope for a return to the spotlight for the couple, others ardently wish that their relationship is really over.

If confirmed, the end of Chaeri and Hongjoong's relationship would leave a bitter taste in the mouths of many fans, who considered them to be THE couple of K-pop, among the first to expose themselves so much and so naturally to the public. Are these just rumors or are they really going through a difficult time? While awaiting an answer, we advise fans, for those who haven't already done so, to listen to “Why Do You Love?” by Hongjoong.

Not only could the song offer some more clues about his emotions, but it is also an incredibly well-produced track. The song has already won the hearts of many listeners for the artistic skill with which Hongjoong has voiced his (alleged) feelings.

Twitter / X after the article:

💭 If Chaeri really started a relationship with someone else, I am sorry for Hongjoong. He doesn't deserve this

💭 Chaeri always seems too focused on herself, and now Hongjoong loses out. It's a shame

💭 Hongjoong, atinys are here to support you, whatever is going on. No one should see you like this.

💭 I hope Hongjoong is not hurting too much, honestly don't know what he found in her. I hope he finds someone who really appreciates him!

💭 I've listened to 'Why Do You Love?' a thousand times, and there are details that suggest it's really dedicated to her…

💭 Ok, maybe Hongjoong is really suffering and has dedicated an entire song to her, but am I the only one annoyed by this? I mean, it's already enough to have had their relationship thrown in our faces all this time, and now we fans are also forced to listen to music written for her?

💭 No matter what happens in his personal life, Hongjoong is an extraordinary artist and his music is always powerful.

💭 He so beautiful even without makeup and completely au naturel, if Chaeri doesn't want him I will volunteer very gladly.

💭 I don't understand all the hate for Chaeri. Being a female idol is hard enough; criticizing her for something we don't know is unfair

💭 They are human, and couples break up all the time on a daily basis. If they did, I don't understand why we should care so much about it. It's their own business

💭 Leave Chaeri alone.

💭 As a BTS fan for years, I knew that the relationship with him for Chaeri would only be a problem. He clearly never lived up to her standards and if she realized this now, all the better!!!

💭 This song makes me realize more and more that I am probably a child of divorce 🥺 Chaejoong, you were THE couple.

Last conversation on Chaeri's phone

**I know that Hongjoong's song was released this August, but for storyline reasons, I indicated the release date as August 2023

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[isak-dot-gov]

Taste (alt version)

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Singer!Reader

Word count: 1096

My Masterlist :)

..................................................................................

Nika sat back on the couch, her legs stretched out, headphones covering her ears, and a soft smile playing on her lips. She had just pressed play on your new single, Taste. Ever since you sent it to her earlier that day, she couldn’t wait to listen to it—especially because it was a song you had written about your past with your shared ex, and now, about your life with her.

She knew you’d always been a little fiery when it came to expressing your emotions, but hearing your words, raw and unapologetic, made her heart race. She leaned back and let the first few bars fill the room.

“Oh, I leave quite an impression,  

Five feet to be exact...” 

Nika chuckled softly. She always joked about being tiny, standing at just 5 feet, but you made sure everyone knew that every inch of you left a lasting impact. The song was no different. She couldn't help but grin, knowing exactly who you were talking about.

As the song continued, Nika’s smile turned into a smirk.

“You’re wonderin’ why half his clothes went missin’  

My body’s where they’re at.” 

She could hear the slight edge in your voice as you sang the line. She had heard you vent about your ex, how he had been careless with you, how he constantly tries to replace you with people who didn’t understand him like you had. But this song? This was something else.

Nika knew it wasn’t just about the ex; it was about staking a claim—not just on the past, but on your relationship now. She felt proud of you, but also a little possessive, the way you demanded recognition for your place in his life. 

“Now I’m gone, but you’re still layin’,  

Next to me, one degree of separation.”

Those lines hit her. She could almost feel the tension in the air, the way you were making sure that your presence lingered in the background, even after everything. You weren’t just going to let him move on like that. You had a piece of him—an undeniable mark you had left, and now, he would always carry a part of you, whether he liked acknowledging it or not.

The song progressed, and Nika felt herself falling deeper into the beat, her fingers tapping lightly on the side of her leg. Then, the next lines came, and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“He pins you down on the carpet,  

Makes paintings with his tongue...  

He's funny, now all his jokes hit different  

Guess who he learned that from?”

Nika had heard about the infamous moments with your ex from him, how you used to joke around with him, how you would make each other laugh in ways that no one else could. Hearing you sing it, though, was a whole new experience. She loved how you were owning it, saying without words that *you* were the one who shaped him into the man he was now, even if that man wasn’t for you anymore.

“Now I’m gone, but you’re still layin’,  

Next to me, one degree of separation.” 

The song was bold, daring, and full of fire—the way Nika loved you. She could tell you had put everything into it, using your pain and your experiences to show your ex—and everyone else—that you weren’t someone to be forgotten.

As the chorus came around, Nika felt a rush of emotions. You were staking a claim to the past, but also, in some ways, to her. She was a little jealous, but in a way that made her respect you even more. She wasn’t threatened by your history, but rather proud of your strength and your ability to own your narrative.

Then came the final verses, and Nika found herself feeling a little moved. She had known what she was getting into when she got into a relationship with you—she knew about the ex, knew about the shared history, but she also knew that you were hers now.

“Every time you close your eyes  

And feel his lips, you’re feelin’ mine...” 

Her heart beat faster, and she could almost feel the intensity of your voice. Nika didn’t have to say anything for her love for you to pour out of her. She simply closed her eyes, letting the music carry her, feeling how you were always in her thoughts, even when she wasn't right there.

As the song finished, Nika pulled the headphones off, her mind buzzing with thoughts. You had said so much with this song, and every word felt like a little piece of your soul.

Before she could reflect further, she heard a knock at the door. Her teammates had all decided to come over for a get-together to celebrate your release.

Nika opened the door, and her teammates immediately flooded in, laughter and chatter filling the space.

"Yo, Nika, we heard your girl dropped a banger!" Aaliyah grinned, holding up her phone. "We were listening to it on the way here, and—damn, girl! She really went off."

Nika grinned, her heart swelling. "Yeah, she did. That song is... well, it's a statement."

Paige raised an eyebrow. "A statement? Damn, it’s more like a warning shot. That ex of hers better watch out."

Nika chuckled, nodding. "She’s not the type to let things go. And I love her for it."

Azzi leaned in, her voice playful. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard Nika get that protective over someone, but it’s kind of hot." 

Kk laughed before adding, “Damn we see you, girly pop.”

Nika flushed slightly, but she didn't mind. She was proud of you, and that pride extended beyond just the song. She knew how much you had been through, and hearing you express it so fiercely made her love you even more.

The whole team was hyped, teasing Nika in their usual playful manner, but the energy was warm, filled with appreciation for you, and a little curiosity about how things had gone down between you and your ex. 

But Nika already knew. It didn’t matter what the past held. What mattered was the present, and right now, the only thing she needed was you—and a victory on the court.

"Well, I heard you're back together and if that’s true," Nika hummed, quoting the chorus as the laughter died down. "I guess they'll have to taste you too."

The whole room burst into laughter again, but for Nika, it was more than just a catchy line—it was a declaration that, in the end, you were hers, and nothing was going to change that.

..................................................................................

[acba]

"Ehhhhh? Sounds boring." Even if he had apparently sang a song like that before, Aoba was now in the stage of tipsiness (or was this bordering on drunk now?) where he was being stubborn for no good reason. Why would he sing about some faceless girl? He wasn't women-obsessed like Koujaku. Why was he like that anyway? Always looking for his next date or one-night thing. Jumping from one woman to the next must make it all so dull, right? Was there even any excitement left in it?

With a huff, he ran his hands through his hair, feeling the ends slip between his fingers. "You sure do talk about women a lot." Not that he cared or anything. It was just an observation. Like, wasn't there anything else they could talk about? Aoba fixed his hair in place, feeling the sensation through his body as he accidentally pulled some strands harder than he intended. He wished he could cut it properly sometimes, but it was just too painful to do any more than quick cuts just to keep it at a manageable length.

Already forgetting that he was meant to be singing karaoke, Aoba turned back to Koujaku, not picking up on his sudden crisis. "Do you think they'll invent scissors that won't hurt my hair?" He didn't know who he was meaning when he said "they" but there must be some sort of job where people invented tools like that. Maybe? He reached for his glass and downed it in one. It was only his second drink and yet it was taking a swift effect.

"I sorta wish you could could cut my hair, at least a bit. It annoys me sometimes." He was used to it, of course, and he did like it most days, but there were those times where it felt like it was in the way and he got frustrated. He supposed everyone had days like that, though.

"Practice drinking?" Koujaku asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "It's not that important to have a high tolerance, you know, but if you want to have a drink together more often, I don't mind." The key being a drink. Sure, Koujaku had more then one from time to time, but it was more to relax or have fun than to really get smashed. He wasn't particularly comfortable with the idea of losing control over his actions, but just a drink or two with a friend or date could be enjoyable. Maybe one more than that on occasion, but not often. But if it was one more reason to spend a little more time with Aoba, they could break out a bottle now and then.

He couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Tae rushing in to break up their karaoke night. "Then keep your song choice away from anything too aggressive or explicit. I think one lecture in a day is enough." It was unclear how much she would care about lyrics, but he wouldn't be surprised if she had something to say about volume if things got too rambunctious. Not that Koujaku could see things turning out that way. They had more self-control than that.

---

Not long after, however, he could see the sake starting to hit his friend. Koujaku poured himself a second glass while he watched Aoba skimming the list for the perfect song to start them off with. He hadn't thought much of it when Aoba came over to sit beside him until his friend was leaning up against him.

He was...surprisingly close, much closer than Koujaku had anticipated. Despite how long the two of them had been close as friends, he found his heart pounding a steady rhythm at the unexpected contact. It was fine. Aoba was just a little drunk and using him for support like anyone would lean against a wall or the back of a chair, right? They were just comfortable with each other, that was all. Nothing to spark slight nerves that had him lifting his cup to his lips for a slightly longer sip. As soon as they started singing, he wouldn't even notice anymore.

Unfortunately for Koujaku, it didn't quite work out that way, with Aoba instead leaning his head back to pout at him about not being able to find settle on the right song and nearly falling back into Koujaku's lap in the process. As blue hair lightly brushed against bare skin exposed by his open kimono, Koujaku felt his heart jolt and slight heat rising in his face. Shit! This wasn't good. The hairdresser quickly turned his head away, avoiding his gaze and hoping Aoba wouldn't notice the light flush he was sure was there. Sure, he couldn't deny his fascination with Aoba's hair and the desire to touch it that he'd had to resist more than once, but he shouldn't be having any sort or reaction to such minor accidental contact. It must just have been the alcohol.

Willing himself to calm down before Aoba suspected anything or got the wrong idea, he sipped idly at the drink he'd just set down seconds before, eyes remaining averted. "What about the one you sang last time?" he suggested, keeping his voice even. "I think it was about fighting for a girl's heart over a street fight? Something like that. I don't remember the title."