#his energy.......... it's so dorky and yet i love him

[nctsworld]

JAEMIN THE (SAD?) ALIEN 👽

[boxwinebaddie]

i am so sorry about this, but for iconic and comedic purposes, and because i think it is my only chance...i think because put jk in all the clean, sleek, minimalistic dark academia fits ( and made him the fkn scariest top dom motherfucker alive >.> ) and put rm!stan as raven in all the thotty gothy hot topic rockstar boy looks ( ilu tiny pants ) ...

i think it's only fair that...

my bitchy, ginger, picky snobby ricky bobby ken doll son, AKA, red hot tire siren, toxic orange pit viper and mean green newjay devil -- who wears more comme de garcons/moshino than prada, imo -- espn celebpretty sh(it) boy, twitter's favorite #cred#head, /my/ precious daytona 500 winning pookie ( dirtbag ) and the #supreme tmz trashed-and-slated nastyboy of nascar racing, the one, the only...

Kyle 'Break Check!' Broflovski <3

should get to wear all the dramatic af, xxxtreme sportyspice, ubergay nightmarish perish hilton, twinky talladega nights, white #trashion, vodka&redheadbull, apple bottom jeans boots w the fur club fits <3

( also just for shits and gigs, pls note: toolshed stan is a super casual, fashionably challenged but unbothered old carhartt beanie, oversized flannel n beat up work boot wearin king...so i'm laaugghingsdk )

like...i am sorry, but this is the right answer:

[nereidprinc3ss]

early seasons spencer and bau reader undercover at a club and it’s just like. he is so flustered but also weirdly confident and do with this what you will

in which spencer reid and BAU fem!reader have to pose as a couple at a club. she's more than a little flirty. the conversation actually gets quite suggestive. he's cute when he gets flustered.

warnings/tags: discussions of sex, reader wears a tight dress and makeup and heels, discussions of blushing but r's skin color is not implied to be light, i just needed a reason to talk about sex flush LOL, if u don't visibly blush this will still read fine

a/n: I LOVE EARLY SEASONS SPENCER X FLIRTY READER OH MY GODDD thank you for this request angel from heaven I hope you all like this as much as I do teehee

The bass buzzes through the floor and vibrates your teeth. House music has never really been your thing. Neither have tight dresses and high heels while on the job—but you’re willing to objectify yourself just a little if it will lure yet another loser who likes to chop up young couples into the awaiting arms of the American correctional system. 

Or to the wrong end of Emily's Glock. Whatever comes first.  

You scan the club—it’s not your usual scene, and you can only imagine how Dr. Reid is faring. As far as you can tell this is essentially his nightmare. It’s sensory overload central even for you. 

Your eyes catch on him at the bar, tucked away from the writhing crowd. He’s standing near the end, one arm resting on the surface while the other hand is jammed in his pocket. He seems completely unaware of the several women circling closer and closer. The whole earnest and dorky but still handsome thing seems to work well for him. Or, it would, if he had any interest in utilizing it. He’s dressed a little sharper than usual—no doubt styled by Morgan and Prentiss. Hell, the earnest dorkiness and the well fitted dark suit is working for you if nobody else. 

Sometimes he just looks… edible. 

And self-discipline doesn't always come naturally to you. 

“Doctor,” you purr in greeting, grazing the forearm propped up on the bar with white-tipped nails as you insert yourself in front of him. His fingers twitch under your light touch. 

Spencer doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sink down your frame, sticking to every highlighted curve like you’re dripping honey. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize that you can see that’s what he’s doing. 

“Hi. You look nice.”

“Aw,” you smile, dulling the salacious edge to your voice, “you didn’t have to say that. Someone’s improvising.”

“I meant it. That dress looks nice on you,” he says, simply, and you hate his specific brand of charm because it’s not intentional. It’s not something he puts on. It comes out of nowhere and always knocks you on your ass when it hits—even in the smallest doses. His eyes narrow and he leans closer. You can feel the energy rippling around him like a force field as he examines you. “You’re wearing more makeup than you normally do.”

“Do you like it? Penelope ordered the wrong shade of blush and gave it to me. Supposedly it’s meant to make me look like I just had an orgasm. I don’t know if I believe it.”

Much to your disappointment, Spencer leans back, scanning the crowd for your target and speaking as if he’s only half-interested. 

“That’s not what you would look like. Sex flush deepens the color of your entire face and chest, not just your cheeks.”

Your brows knit as you contend with unwelcome butterflies. 

“Buy me a drink before you start telling me what I’ll look like after I orgasm.”

That catches his attention, and his suddenly wide eyes snap to you. If he had a drink, he’d be choking on it. 

“I wasn’t—it was a general you, I’d never—that would be inappropriate. It was. It was inappropriate. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You lean with your back to the bar, elbows propped on black granite, and swing your hair over your shoulder. Spencer’s eyes dart back down to your décolletage and then up to the ceiling like he regrets being born. You smile wickedly. Much better. This is the way God intended for you to interact with Spencer Reid. 

“I’ll consider forgiving you. And I don’t blush. Not when I orgasm, not ever.”

Admittedly, you just want to milk the whole talking about you orgasming thing to see how pink you can make him. It’s not often you’re gifted with an opportunity to be so candid about your sexuality or flirt this unabashedly. But you are supposed to be posing as a couple. Maybe you’re just feeling extra in character. 

Instead of stumbling over his words some more, Spencer smiles with a degree of bemusement like he’s caught you in a white lie. 

His smile is so nice. His teeth are perfect, and his lips—

“Yes you do.”

Always so convinced he’s right, this one. 

It’s annoying. And kind of hot. 

“Uh, I promise you I do not.”

“Everyone blushes. It's a sympathetic nervous system activation response wherein blood rushes to your face. Your blood vessels dilate when you get flustered or anxious. Your face gets hot and your undertone changes.”

You raise your brows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was challenging you. 

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Actually, no,” he mutters, losing any bravado and casting his eyes downward subserviently. “You have a habit of proving me wrong.”

“That’s right,” you gloat, smiling wide. Someone bumps into you, and you turn around, highly unprofessional insult locked and loaded—but it’s just a drunk girl who apologizes and stumbles off. The encounter does, however, remind you that you’re supposed to be finding a killer. “Do you think this is the best positioning? He might not be able to find us way over here.”

“You think we should move?”

You look back at him and nod, holding your hand out. He looks at it uncertainly. You waggle your fingers and infuse your words with sugar. 

“Oh, come on. I don’t want to lose you. And we’re supposed to look like a couple, remember?”

Gingerly he accepts your hand. His is bigger than you’d have thought. Not nearly as freezing as your own perpetually are. It occurs to you as you grab his hand that his bone structure really is bigger than yours. He’s… tall. He is, at the end of the day, a real life adult man. His presence is palpable behind you and you enjoy the weight of his hand in yours as you tug him through the crowd, perhaps not taking the most direct route through the throng just so you can savor being able to touch him like this for a little longer. 

Miraculously you spot an empty booth and slide into it. It’s a deep alcove, shadowy and secluded at the back. That’s where you settle, against black vinyl, and where you wave at Spencer to join you. 

He lingers at the edge of the table, glancing around at the groups of dancing and drinking young adults. 

“I don’t know. Can you even see the dance floor from back there?”

“Part of it. But I’m sure he’ll be looking in the booths for couples. He’ll come to us.”

Spencer faces you again and sighs ruefully, a begrudging smirk playing at his lips as he slides into the booth and joins you against the back wall. His side is warm against yours. He smells nice. Clean. Almost herbal, like patchouli or vetiver. 

“What? You really hate sitting next to me that much?”

Spencer’s lips part wryly before he speaks, like he almost thought better of it but decided to anyway. 

“I think you just wanted a reason to get me alone and secluded so you can finally accost me.”

Your knees bump. You lean into it. 

“Accost you? That seems harsh,” you pout, leaning toward him clandestinely to undo his top button.

“I don’t see how. You are literally trying to take my clothing off as we speak.”

“I’m just increasing your sex appeal. It’ll be good, trust me. Maybe you’ll even end up taking one of those girls from the bar home. Or—back to the hotel, I should say.”

Spencer covers your fussy hands with his own sweetly, like he can sense the true jealousy simmering underneath the sarcasm, and places them in your lap. The touch lingers.

“Are you always like this?” He murmurs, voice lower than you can recall ever hearing it and twisted into the shape of a smile. 

“Only with you, Dr. Reid. Speaking of, how about you? Do you flirt with many other FBI agents on official business?”

“Just the one. She’s kind of a full-time job.”

“Shut up. I’m basically your babysitter. If anything, I should be paid extra for dealing with you.”

“Attempting to seduce your charge seems like a bad business model. There are definitely some ethical issues there.”

His hands still rest on yours. You lace your fingers with his and speak sweetly, meeting his eyes best you can in the dark. 

“I wasn’t aware I was seducing you. Do you feel seduced?”

He’s the first to look away after a few seconds pass—pulls your hands apart gently, politely arranging them back on your lap. 

“I think you’re incorrigible and a terrible influence. In all honesty, you terrify me and more often than not I walk away from our interactions a little confused.”

You clap a hand to your heart, the bare skin revealed by your low cut dress warm under your fingers. 

“Spencer… that kind of turned me on.”

He just looks at you for a moment, a hint of a smile on his pretty face, long enough to make you feel a bit nervous. 

Then he’s leaning forward, and unconsciously so are you, almost forgetting to breath when you’re practically pressed against him in this booth and he’s whispering so low and sweet into your ear. 

“He’s watching us. Right across the floor, next to the girl in the blue dress. White button up and a leather jacket.” His hand slides over yours, fingers skimming your collarbone in the process as he interlocks your grasp once more. “Keep your hand right here and lean closer. We need to maintain his interest.”

“I don’t think I can lean any closer,” you breathe, hoping it doesn’t register as nervous as it really is. You’re supposed to be the confident one who teases him. “But if you want me to sit on your lap, just ask. I won’t say no.”

He chuckles, too loud to be amorous. It’s clearly genuine. It sounds like the way his reddened cheeks always look. It almost does more for you than the bedroom voice.

“You… you are beyond help. I don’t think you could be appropriate if your life depended on it.”

Slowly you pull back so you can look into his eyes—much closer than you normally have an excuse to. They dart wildly over your face, partially obscured by the dark which cuts shadows deep into the dramatic hollows of his bone structure. He really is so pretty. 

You glance toward the man, who’s pretending not to watch you. When you focus your attention back on Spencer, sliding your hand up the curve of his jaw, you find yourself making a dangerous wish. You find yourself wishing that you didn’t have an audience. That this wasn’t all for show. That neither of you had earpieces in.

His pulse hammers under your little finger, and his lips part slightly as he doesn’t have the wherewithal to not glance at yours. He’s so unaware of how obvious he’s being. It’s cute. 

You run the tips of your fingers through the hair in front of his ear, the one sans bluetooth, pushing it back, before leaning in close once more to whisper. 

“Good thing we’re not going for appropriate. Actually—your hands could stand to wander a little more, Dr. Reid. Let me know if you need me to tell you where to put them.”

[minhosbitterriver]

💻 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol and they’re your fanboys.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 12.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ You guys should know that I am a firm believer that these boys would be so dorky if they weren't idols — well, dorkier than they already are, honestly. This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! Please enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N is an idol, the members of Enhypen are your fanboys finally getting you to acknowledge their existence one way or another, it's all just very cute honestly, Jungwon and Riki don't meet you in person but they still lose their minds over it, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

All of the members are found below the cut!

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

Heeseung sat at the edge of his bed, the dim light casting a gentle glow upon his contemplative figure. His fingers, delicate yet reverent, traced the edges of the well-worn scrapbook that lay open before him. This cherished volume, a tapestry of memories meticulously compiled over the years, held within its pages a mosaic of his unwavering admiration. It brimmed with a kaleidoscope of photographs, clippings, and handwritten notes, each piece meticulously documenting the journey of his favorite idol—none other than you.

He recalled the precise moment when his world had been irrevocably altered. It was on the eve of your debut, and there, amid the swirling anticipation and the haze of his youthful excitement, your voice had first reached his ears. It was a sound both ethereal and powerful, a melody that wove itself into the very fabric of his being. From that instant, Heeseung was ensnared by the magnetism of your presence. He had watched, spellbound, as you evolved from a burgeoning talent into a celebrated artist, each phase of your journey captured and immortalized within the pages of his scrapbook.

Tonight was imbued with a sense of magic and anticipation that seemed almost palpable. Heeseung, a dreamer in the truest sense, had finally managed to secure a coveted ticket to your fan meeting—a wish he had harbored fervently since the inception of his admiration for you. The moment was the culmination of countless hopes and whispered promises to himself.

As he navigated his way through the bustling streets toward the venue, his heart danced with a symphony of excitement and nervous energy. Each step felt like a step toward a long-awaited destiny, a convergence of past dreams and present reality. The evening air was crisp, carrying with it the faint murmur of fellow fans, their voices mingling in a harmonious chorus of shared anticipation.

Clutching his treasured scrapbook tightly, as though it were a talisman of his devotion, Heeseung took a steadying breath. The pages within were a testament to his journey alongside yours, a journey now culminating in this singular, momentous occasion. He joined the serpentine line of eager fans, each person a reflection of his own fervent longing, all awaiting the cherished moment when they would come face-to-face with you.

The room vibrated with a palpable energy, a living, breathing entity fueled by the collective enthusiasm of the gathered fans. Conversations swirled like a vibrant tapestry of shared experiences and heartfelt recollections, each voice contributing to the rich symphony of admiration that filled the air.

In this dynamic atmosphere, Heeseung, a seasoned devotee whose affection for you had long been unwavering, naturally assumed the role of storyteller. His presence was a comforting beacon for the newer fans, a guide through the labyrinth of your artistic journey. With an air of gentle authority, he began weaving tales of your early days, his voice imbued with a warmth that spoke of deep, personal connection.

He unfolded his beloved scrapbook with reverent care, revealing its pages one by one. Each page was a canvas of nostalgia, adorned with a mosaic of photos capturing the essence of your first performance, the raw, unguarded moments during concerts, and the newspaper clippings that chronicled your ascent to stardom. The images told a story of transformation and triumph, each snapshot a frozen moment of time that illustrated your remarkable rise. As Heeseung shared these treasures, his eyes sparkled with the joy of reminiscing, his words painting a vivid portrait of your evolution that captivated the newer fans, drawing them into the rich tapestry of your shared history.

When the moment arrived for Heeseung to finally meet you, his heart pounded with a fervent rhythm, echoing the excitement that surged through his veins. As he stepped forward, the world seemed to narrow down to the singular focus of your radiant presence.

You looked up from behind the table, your eyes brightening with a warm, welcoming smile that seemed to illuminate the room. The recognition in your gaze was immediate and profound, as your eyes fell upon the familiar scrapbook cradled in his hands. The tender acknowledgment in your expression conveyed an unspoken connection, bridging the gap between your storied past and this intimate, cherished encounter.

"Hello," Heeseung began, his voice carrying a steady confidence that belied the fluttering butterflies in his stomach. The words emerged with a sincere warmth, as if each syllable was carefully crafted to convey the depth of his feelings.

"I’m Heeseung," he continued, offering a small, genuine smile. "I’ve been a devoted fan since your very debut." His gaze lingered on you, revealing in his eyes the unwavering admiration and respect that had grown with each passing year.

Your eyes traveled over the scrapbook, a look of genuine awe and recognition crossing your face. The corners of your mouth lifted in an appreciative smile as you took the cherished book from Heeseung’s hands.

"Wow, Heeseung, this is truly incredible," you remarked, your voice infused with admiration. You began to gently turn the pages, each delicate motion revealing the meticulously curated moments of your journey. "You've captured every detail with such care," you continued, your fingers brushing over the images and notes. The sincerity in your tone spoke volumes, reflecting not only your gratitude but also the profound impact of his devotion.

Heeseung nodded, a proud and heartfelt smile unfolding across his face. The expression was a testament to his deep appreciation and respect for you, his admiration evident in every line of his features.

"You’ve been an immense source of inspiration to me," he began, his voice rich with emotion. "Witnessing your growth and the way you've triumphed over challenges has been a beacon of hope during my own difficult times. I wanted to ensure that other fans could share in that journey as well." His words carried the weight of genuine gratitude, reflecting the profound impact your perseverance and success had on his life.

You lifted your gaze from the scrapbook, your eyes meeting his with a depth of sincerity that spoke volumes. The warmth in your expression was a gentle reflection of the gratitude swelling within you.

"Thank you, Heeseung," you said softly, your voice imbued with heartfelt emotion. "Your support means more to me than words can express. It's dedicated fans like you who make all the effort and hard work truly worthwhile." The weight of your words hung in the air, a testament to the profound connection between an artist and the cherished individuals who help sustain their passion.

As you delicately signed your name on the scrapbook, Heeseung felt a surge of gratitude and profound fulfillment wash over him. The ink of your signature seemed to crystallize the moment, transforming his dreams into a tangible reality.

Meeting you and hearing those heartfelt words had surpassed even his most cherished aspirations. The realization that his steadfast support had made a meaningful impact on your journey was a treasure he would hold close to his heart. It was a moment of deep resonance, one that would linger with him as a cherished memory, a testament to the power of unwavering devotion and connection.

As Heeseung exited the venue, a radiant smile stretched across his face, one that seemed to capture the essence of his joy. The thrill of the evening lingered like a warm embrace, and he found himself buoyed by a sense of deep contentment.

He knew that his commitment to supporting you would remain steadfast, unwavering through every trial and triumph. The thought of sharing your story with new fans and enriching his cherished scrapbook with fresh memories filled him with a profound sense of purpose. The acknowledgment of his dedication had bestowed upon him a moment of rare significance—one that he would hold dear, a luminous beacon of inspiration to treasure for a lifetime.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

Jay fidgeted with his earbuds, delicately positioning them as he allowed your music to wash over him, a soothing cascade of sound that enveloped his senses. The anticipation in the cool night air was palpable, a faint electric hum that seemed to dance through the crowd gathered outside the concert venue. Each note, each lyric was a comforting balm as he stood in line, his excitement palpable and nearly tangible.

He had waited for this night with bated breath, the days leading up to it marked with eager anticipation and a fervent excitement that had grown since he first secured his ticket. The prospect of witnessing your live performance was a thrill that had consumed him for months. Jay was not the kind of fan to lose himself in fervent adoration; rather, he embraced a more laid-back dedication. His passion manifested in the quiet diligence of streaming your songs and videos, ensuring that your place atop the charts remained steadfast.

His dedication went beyond mere listening; it extended to the art of maximizing streaming efforts. Jay found a certain joy in sharing his knowledge, guiding fellow fans on how to elevate their own streaming practices. For him, each play and each view was a small, yet significant tribute to your artistry, a testament to the role he played in the symphony of your success.

The anticipation in the crowd was almost electric, a current that seemed to weave through the throngs of eager fans, sparking whispers and hushed conversations. Jay, however, exuded an aura of tranquility, his outward calm a stark contrast to the vibrant energy that rippled around him. Beneath his serene exterior, his excitement simmered, a deep well of anticipation that kept him composed.

As the doors to the concert venue finally swung open, it was as if a collective breath was held, only to be released in a surge of movement. Jay stepped forward with purposeful strides, navigating the sea of enthusiastic fans until he reached his seat. It was perfectly positioned, offering an unobstructed view of the stage where the night’s magic would soon unfold.

The atmosphere inside was a palpable buzz of exhilaration, a harmonious blend of voices and laughter that filled the space with a symphony of excitement. Fans exchanged gleeful glances and shared snippets of their own anticipation, their voices blending into a crescendo of collective joy. The air was thick with the promise of the performance to come, and Jay, nestled in his prime spot, allowed himself to bask in the electric ambiance, savoring the moment before the music began.

As the lights in the arena dimmed, a hushed reverence fell over the crowd, a moment suspended in breathless anticipation. The first ethereal notes of your opening song began to ripple through the space, a delicate wave of sound that immediately swept Jay into its embrace. The thrill of excitement surged through him like a living pulse, a vibrant crescendo that was both exhilarating and profound.

Experiencing you live was a revelation, an intoxicating contrast to the solitary pleasure of streaming your videos at home. The raw energy of the performance, the sheer magnetism of your presence on stage, transformed the music into a living, breathing entity that resonated deep within him. Jay was no longer just a spectator; he was an integral part of the spectacle.

He became fully immersed in the experience, his voice blending seamlessly with the chorus of fellow fans, each note of the song drawing him further into the enchanting world you created. His lightstick, a beacon of glowing color, moved rhythmically in tandem with the sea of lights around him, a pulsating testament to the collective euphoria that enveloped the arena. The moment was a symphony of sight and sound, a vivid tapestry of emotions that made every second of the performance a cherished memory in the making.

Halfway through the concert, the rhythm of the performance paused, giving way to a moment of intimate connection between you and your audience. As you took a breath and glanced out across the sea of faces, your eyes shimmered with a depth of gratitude that seemed to light up the entire arena. The energy of the crowd seemed to pulse in response, a living, breathing testament to the bond you had forged with your fans.

You spoke to them with heartfelt sincerity, your voice imbued with warmth as you thanked everyone for their unwavering support. Each word you uttered was like a gentle caress, weaving through the crowd and touching each individual. Jay, standing amidst the throng, felt a profound swell of pride well up within him. It was a quiet but powerful emotion, knowing that his contributions, however modest, had played a role in this vibrant celebration of your success.

The moment was a delicate dance of appreciation and connection, a fleeting yet timeless exchange that made Jay's heart swell with a deep sense of fulfillment. In that instant, amidst the shared joy and collective euphoria, he felt an unspoken bond with you and the thousands of other fans who had gathered to share in the magic of the night.

As the concert approached its final moments, the air thickened with anticipation. You began to perform Jay’s favorite song, the one that had become the soundtrack to his own personal journey. As the first notes floated into the air, Jay closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the music. Each melody and lyric seemed to envelop him like a familiar embrace, resonating with the countless hours he had dedicated to streaming this very track.

The music wove through him, a rich tapestry of sound that stirred deep within his soul. It was as though every chord and rhythm had been crafted specifically for him, echoing the joy and dedication he had invested in following your career. The experience was transcendent, a moment of perfect harmony where time seemed to stand still.

When the song reached its crescendo and the final notes gently faded into silence, the crowd erupted in a fervent burst of applause, a collective roar of appreciation that reverberated through the arena. Jay's hands instinctively joined the chorus of clapping, his heart swelling with a profound sense of fulfillment and connection. In that shared moment of jubilation, surrounded by the vibrant energy of fellow fans, Jay felt an overwhelming surge of happiness, a bittersweet reminder of the magical night he had been fortunate to experience.

As the final encore drew to a close and the last notes of the evening faded into the night, the concert hall began to empty, a gradual exodus of reluctant fans leaving behind the echoes of an unforgettable performance. Jay, however, chose to linger, his steps slow and deliberate as he remained in his seat, unwilling to let the magic of the night slip away just yet. The atmosphere, still tinged with the residual glow of stage lights and the faint scent of excitement, seemed to pulse with a gentle reverence.

He took a deep breath, allowing the serenity of the moment to wash over him. For Jay, the night had been more than just an event; it was the culmination of countless hours of support, a testament to his unwavering dedication from afar. Seeing you live had transformed his abstract admiration into a vivid, tangible experience, a realization of the dreams he had quietly nurtured.

The concert had been a symphony of emotions, each moment a brushstroke on the canvas of his devotion. As he looked around at the now-emptying hall, the memories of the evening replayed in his mind like a cherished melody. Jay savored the lingering warmth of the night, a profound satisfaction settling in his heart as he reflected on the incredible journey that had brought him to this perfect, fleeting moment of connection.

As Jay made his way toward the exit, he cast a casual glance toward the stage door, where he noticed a small cluster of fans gathered with hopeful anticipation. Their presence was a quiet testament to the lingering magic of the night. Intrigued, he decided to join them, even though he held no grand expectations. The concert had already fulfilled him in ways he hadn’t imagined, and he was content to leave with the memories of the evening still fresh in his heart.

To his astonishment, the quiet buzz of conversation among the remaining fans was soon interrupted by a burst of excitement. You emerged from behind the stage door, a vision of warmth and grace amidst the dimly lit backdrop. Your face was illuminated by a radiant smile that seemed to capture the essence of the night’s enchantment. You waved at the gathered fans, your gesture a gentle acknowledgment of their unwavering support.

The scene was bathed in a soft, lingering light as you made your way towards the crowd, and Jay's heart skipped a beat. Seeing you in person, so close and so genuine, added a new layer of magic to the evening. The brief encounter, filled with your sincere appreciation and the shared joy of the fans, became a cherished epilogue to the night’s spectacular performance.

Jay's heart fluttered with a sudden surge of excitement as you made your way toward the group, each step drawing you closer in a cascade of anticipation. Your approach was deliberate and gracious, as you took the time to engage with each fan, your presence a radiant blend of warmth and genuine appreciation.

When you finally reached him, the moment seemed to stretch into a beautiful eternity. Jay fought to maintain his composure, though his nerves danced with barely contained enthusiasm. He managed a calm, albeit slightly tremulous, smile as he introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Jay,” he said, his voice steady but infused with an unmistakable hint of awe. “I’m—uh, I’m always streaming your songs and videos. Tonight was incredible.”

His words, though simple, were a heartfelt tribute to the night’s splendor. The sincerity in his tone mirrored the admiration he had carried for so long, and in that fleeting exchange, the distance between fan and artist dissolved into a shared moment of connection and reverence.

You beamed with a radiant smile that seemed to illuminate the space around you, your eyes sparkling with genuine warmth and gratitude. “Thank you, Jay,” you said, your voice soft yet filled with heartfelt sincerity. The words flowed effortlessly, each syllable a testament to the deep appreciation you felt.

Your gaze held a tender, almost ethereal quality as you continued, “I’m truly grateful for all the support. It means so much to know that you enjoy the music and that you’re willing to contribute in such a meaningful way.” The sincerity in your tone and the genuine light in your eyes conveyed a deep, personal connection, making Jay feel as though his dedication had not only been acknowledged but cherished. In that moment, the bond between artist and fan was beautifully reaffirmed, a shared appreciation that transcended words.

Jay felt a profound surge of warmth at your words, a gentle rush of emotion that enveloped him in a cocoon of happiness. The sincerity of your appreciation struck a deep chord within him, igniting a sense of fulfillment that radiated from his core.

“I’ll keep doing it,” he said, his voice imbued with a quiet but resolute determination. “Your music is honestly the best thing to ever happen.” Each word was carefully chosen, a heartfelt declaration of the impact your artistry had made on his life. His statement was not merely a tribute but a promise, a reflection of the deep connection he felt with your work and the unwavering commitment to continue supporting it with all his heart.

You nodded with a graceful, appreciative smile, the gesture accompanied by a soft, melodic giggle that seemed to carry the warmth of the evening. The sound was a delicate, playful note that danced in the air, a reflection of the genuine gratitude you felt.

“Thank you for everything, Jay,” you said, your voice imbued with a tender sincerity. The words flowed with a natural ease, each syllable a heartfelt acknowledgment of his unwavering support. In that moment, the exchange between you was a beautiful blend of appreciation and connection, a shared understanding that transcended the boundaries of the stage and reached into the heart of the evening’s magic.

As you gracefully moved on to greet the other fans, Jay was enveloped by a deep and resonant sense of fulfillment. The concert had been a spectacular crescendo, and the brief, heartfelt interaction with you had imbued the evening with an added dimension of personal significance. It was a reaffirmation of his unwavering commitment to supporting your music, a promise of loyalty and admiration that had been solidified in the warmth of your gratitude.

As he began his journey home, a contented smile lingered on his lips. He slipped his earbuds back in, the familiar comfort of the soft cushion against his ears a prelude to the solace he sought. With a gentle tap, he played your latest song, letting the melodies cascade through him. The music, already a cherished part of his life, now carried an even deeper resonance, enriched by the vivid memories of the night. Each note seemed to echo with the joy and connection he had experienced, weaving the evening’s magic into the very fabric of the music he held so dear.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

Jake's phone erupted with a relentless flurry of notifications, its screen a tapestry of flashing icons and vibrating alerts. Each buzz was a herald of the burgeoning frenzy surrounding your latest release, a wildfire of excitement that spread across the digital expanse. His fan account, a veritable beacon of devotion, crackled with activity as the news of your new work ignited the fervor of your admirers.

In the realm of social media, Jake was a maestro, orchestrating a symphony of online enthusiasm with meticulous precision. His virtual domain was a haven of vibrant promotion, where he crafted elaborate posts to celebrate your artistry and engaged in fervent discussions to elevate your presence. He was a tireless guardian of your reputation, deftly defending you against any shadow of criticism that dared to cast itself upon your name.

Hours blurred into days as Jake immersed himself in the art of digital advocacy. He meticulously arranged streaming parties that thrummed with collective excitement and mobilized legions of supporters to cast their votes in your favor. Each moment spent was a testament to his unwavering commitment, as he channeled his energy into ensuring that your achievements resonated far and wide.

One serene afternoon, as Jake meandered through his social media feed with a sense of routine calm, a new notification flickered to life on his screen. It was an announcement for an exclusive contest, offering a coveted prize: a chance for fans to meet you in person and partake in a thrilling game during an upcoming interview. The message was a sparkling beacon amidst the digital noise, and Jake's heart leapt in his chest, racing with an exhilarating burst of anticipation.

With a sense of urgency and determination, Jake plunged into action. His fingers danced across the screen as he entered the contest, his movements fueled by a fervent hope and a deep-seated desire. The stakes were high, and he could almost envision the opportunity as if it were a tangible, glittering prize just within reach.

Not content to keep this golden chance to himself, Jake set about rallying his fellow fans with a fervent zeal. He shared the contest announcement across his fan accounts, crafting messages that bristled with enthusiasm and encouragement. His call to action was a clarion cry for participation, urging others to join in and seize the chance to connect with you, as he had. The air was electric with shared excitement, each notification a testament to the collective dream of meeting you in person.

A week later, Jake's phone rang with an unfamiliar number, its jarring ring cutting through the quietude of his day. With a flutter of nervous anticipation, he answered, his hand trembling slightly as he lifted the phone to his ear. On the other end, a voice, vibrant with uncontainable enthusiasm, greeted him with words that sent a shiver of disbelief and elation down his spine: he had won the contest.

The news was a cascade of joy that surged through Jake's veins, electrifying every fiber of his being. His heart pounded in a rhythm of pure exhilaration, and he struggled to hold back the flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. As he expressed his heartfelt gratitude to the caller, his mind raced with the thrilling possibilities that lay ahead.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jake rushed to share the incredible news with his online friends. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he crafted messages that crackled with infectious excitement, eager to spread the joy and invite them to revel in his triumph. The virtual space was soon abuzz with celebratory fervor, each message a ripple in the sea of shared elation, as Jake's news became a beacon of collective joy among his fellow fans.

On the day of the interview, Jake approached the studio with a heart that danced between nerves and exhilaration. Each step felt like a journey through a landscape of anticipation, the gravity of the moment settling over him like a shroud of shimmering possibility. Years of dedicated promotion and fervent support had led him to this threshold, and the weight of it all made his pulse quicken with a heady mix of excitement and trepidation.

As he entered the studio, the bustling environment greeted him with a warmth that was both soothing and energizing. The staff, their smiles genuine and eyes twinkling with camaraderie, enveloped him in a welcoming embrace. They guided him through the labyrinth of the studio, their voices imbued with the promise of an unforgettable experience.

Jake listened intently as they outlined the details of the segment, each word painting a vivid picture of what was to come. The centerpiece of the evening was a live game, an interactive moment where he would finally connect with you face-to-face. The thought of sharing this experience with you, after so many years of virtual connection, ignited a thrill within him, and he found himself eagerly anticipating the chance to step into this shared moment of excitement and connection.

As the interview commenced, Jake lingered on the sidelines, his heart thudding with the rhythmic urgency of a drum. Each beat seemed to echo the anticipation that hung palpably in the air. The studio's vibrant energy enveloped him, a whirlwind of lights and sounds that intensified his sense of expectation.

When the moment arrived and the host’s voice rang out, introducing him with a flourish, Jake drew a deep, steadying breath. With a resolve that masked his inner tumult, he stepped onto the set. The audience’s applause greeted him like a warm embrace, their clapping a chorus of encouragement that surged around him, amplifying the thrill of the moment. As he walked forward, the atmosphere crackled with an electric blend of excitement and nervous anticipation, each step bringing him closer to the realization of a long-held dream.

You turned towards him, your face illuminated by a radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire studio. The warmth and sincerity in your eyes made the moment feel suspended in time.

"Hi, Jake!" you greeted him with a cheerful exuberance, your voice carrying a melodic lilt that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. "It's great to meet you," you continued, your words flowing effortlessly and imbued with genuine delight. The connection in that instant was electric, as if the years of virtual admiration had culminated in this shared, unforgettable moment.

Jake's smile, though brimming with excitement, was tempered with a careful composure. He met your gaze with a mixture of awe and admiration. "Hi," he said, his voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. "I’m a huge fan."

Your response was immediate and heartfelt, a genuine delight shining in your eyes. "Thank you so much for your support," you replied, your voice warm and sincere. "It means a lot." The simplicity of your words was underscored by the depth of emotion conveyed, and Jake felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy. In that exchange, the connection between fan and idol transcended the boundaries of screen and stage, becoming a shared moment of authentic appreciation.

The host's voice rang out, rich with enthusiasm as they outlined the rules of the game. It was a lively trivia challenge centered around your illustrious career, a test of knowledge designed to celebrate your achievements. Jake felt a surge of confidence, his pulse quickening with the thrill of the impending challenge. He had immersed himself in every detail of your journey, his knowledge deep and comprehensive.

As the game commenced, Jake's well-honed expertise began to shine through. Each answer he provided was delivered with the assurance of someone who had followed your career with unwavering devotion. Your laughter, bright and infectious, filled the air as you cheered him on. The joy and admiration in your eyes were unmistakable, and it was clear that his dedication and passion had left a lasting impression on you.

As the game drew to a close, Jake emerged victorious by a commanding margin, his triumph a testament to his fervent admiration and meticulous knowledge. The host’s voice rang out with genuine congratulations, the applause from the audience swelling like a wave of collective appreciation.

You stepped forward with a smile that radiated warmth and gratitude. In your hands, you held a signed album, its cover gleaming under the studio lights. As you presented it to Jake, your words flowed with heartfelt sincerity. "You're amazing, Jake," you said, your tone infused with genuine admiration. "Thank you for everything you do." The album, a tangible symbol of your appreciation, was a fitting end to a moment that celebrated both his dedication and your mutual connection.

Jake was overcome by a swell of emotion, his voice trembling slightly with sincerity. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his words imbued with a heartfelt promise. "I'll keep supporting you no matter what." The depth of his commitment was clear, a testament to his unwavering admiration.

As the interview concluded, a brief window of private time opened up between you. The studio, now quieter and more intimate, felt like a cocoon of shared experience. You turned to him with a radiant smile, your eyes sparkling with genuine delight. "I had a lot of fun playing with you, Jake," you said, your voice warm and infused with a touch of playful admiration. "I’m so impressed you beat me." Your words, spoken with genuine appreciation, underscored the camaraderie and connection that had blossomed between you during the game.

Jake’s laughter bubbled up with a sense of deep satisfaction, his heart swelling with fulfillment. "I may or may not run an account or two dedicated to you," he confessed, his voice tinged with playful secrecy. "You’re just such an inspiration for me." His cheeks flushed with a warm blush, a vivid testament to the joy and pride he felt in that moment.

Your smile broadened, radiating a glow of genuine warmth and appreciation. “I really appreciate you, Jake. So much,” you replied, your words like a soothing balm to his eager heart. The sincerity in your voice resonated deeply, making the moment even more memorable.

As Jake exited the studio, his heart brimmed with a sense of completeness. Meeting you had surpassed even his loftiest dreams, and the encounter had only fueled his devotion. With a renewed fervor, he prepared to champion your cause with even greater zeal. On his journey home, he crafted a heartfelt message for his fan accounts, pouring out his gratitude and enthusiasm. He shared the transformative experience with his fellow fans, encouraging them to support you with the same passion and dedication that had driven him all along.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

Sunghoon adjusted his jacket one last time, meticulously smoothing the fabric as he scrutinized his reflection in the mirror. The jacket, a masterpiece of sleek black with intricate embroidery, was a testament to your signature style from a recent performance that had left a lasting impression on him. Each stitch seemed to echo the haunting melodies of your music, weaving a connection between fashion and art that he found mesmerizing.

He had spent weeks scouring boutiques and online shops, determined to find a jacket that mirrored yours with precise accuracy. The search had been relentless, driven by a deep admiration for both your music and your fashion sense. To Sunghoon, this jacket was more than just an article of clothing; it was a symbol of his dedication and a tribute to the artistry he so deeply respected.

As he fastened the buttons, memories of countless nights spent streaming your songs and watching your performances flooded his mind. The rhythms and lyrics had become a part of him, ingrained in his soul after hours of listening on repeat. Each beat, each note, resonated within him until he could replay them perfectly in his head, as if your voice had become his own inner soundtrack.

The mirror reflected not just his image, but also the transformation he had undergone. In that moment, he wasn’t just Sunghoon; he was a reflection of the music and style that had inspired him, a living homage to the artist he revered. With a final, confident glance, he stepped out of his apartment, ready to carry the essence of your art into the world.

Today was a day unlike any other, a day that held the promise of a dream coming true. Sunghoon clutched the precious ticket to your fan meeting, the golden key to an encounter he had longed for. This rare opportunity to meet you in person set his heart racing with a thrilling blend of excitement and nervous anticipation.

As he made his way to the venue, each step felt charged with electricity. The cityscape blurred around him, the usual hum of life fading into the background as his mind focused solely on the upcoming moment. The fan meeting was more than an event; it was a chance to connect with the artist who had profoundly influenced his world.

In preparation for this special occasion, Sunghoon had meticulously crafted his appearance, choosing an outfit that echoed your style while reflecting his own dedication. Every detail, from the crisp lines of his tailored jacket to the subtle accessories, was selected with the hope of catching your eye. He had spent countless hours perfecting his look, ensuring that it embodied the essence of your artistic vision.

As he approached the venue, the reality of the moment began to sink in. The crowd of fans gathered outside shared his enthusiasm, their voices a chorus of shared admiration. But for Sunghoon, this experience was intensely personal. He felt a connection to you through your music and fashion, and today, he hoped to express that bond in person.

With each passing moment, the anticipation built, his heart pounding in rhythm with the excitement that filled the air. Sunghoon took a deep breath, ready to step into a world where his dreams and reality would collide, where the admiration he held in his heart would finally find its voice.

The venue buzzed with anticipation, a symphony of eager murmurs and shared excitement filling the air. Fans poured into the room, their faces alight with anticipation and joy. Sunghoon navigated through the sea of people, finally finding his seat amidst the throng. He glanced around, recognizing a few familiar faces from social media, their expressions mirroring his own eager anticipation. Yet, despite the familiar faces, his focus remained unwaveringly on the stage, where you would soon make your grand entrance.

The room seemed to pulse with collective energy, the excitement almost tangible as fans shared stories, laughter, and their mutual admiration for you. Sunghoon's heart beat in time with the buzz of the crowd, a rhythm that underscored his own fervent anticipation. He adjusted his jacket, a symbol of his dedication, feeling the fabric against his skin as a reminder of the momentous occasion.

As the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Every eye was trained on the stage, every breath held in unison. Then, the curtains parted, and you walked out, a vision of grace and warmth. The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound rising like a tidal wave, enveloping the room in a cascade of adoration.

Sunghoon felt his heart race, the thrill of the moment washing over him. He watched intently as you greeted the audience, your smile radiant and welcoming. The way you moved, the way you carried yourself, it was as if the essence of your music and persona had materialized before his eyes. Every gesture, every word, seemed to resonate deeply with the audience, binding them together in a shared moment of pure connection.

In that instant, as you stood on the stage, Sunghoon felt a profound sense of awe. This was the culmination of his admiration and dedication, a fleeting yet unforgettable moment where the distance between fan and artist dissolved, leaving only the magic of shared experience.

The fan meeting commenced with a lively Q&A session, the air brimming with curiosity and excitement as fans eagerly posed their questions. The room buzzed with the hum of conversation, punctuated by bursts of laughter and applause. Following the Q&A, the atmosphere shifted into a more playful tone with interactive games, drawing the crowd even closer together in their shared joy.

As the event unfolded, Sunghoon's anticipation grew with each passing moment. The rhythm of activities seemed to accelerate, and before he knew it, his turn to meet you arrived, catching him off guard with its swiftness. Rising from his seat, he felt a wave of nervous energy course through him, his hands growing slightly clammy as he approached the stage.

With each step closer, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of excitement and nerves intertwining. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, determined to make the most of this fleeting, yet precious moment. As he ascended the steps to the stage, the world around him seemed to blur, his focus narrowing solely on you.

When he finally stood before you, a breathless anticipation hung in the air. Your eyes lifted to meet his, and a spark of recognition danced within them. The moment your gaze settled on his jacket, your eyes lit up, a warm and genuine smile spreading across your face. The intricate embroidery and sleek design had not gone unnoticed, and the recognition in your eyes sent a thrill through Sunghoon.

The connection was instantaneous, a silent acknowledgment of his dedication and admiration. For Sunghoon, that single moment of recognition felt like a dream realized, a testament to the countless hours spent immersing himself in your music and style. The clammy hands and racing heart were now a backdrop to the profound sense of fulfillment and joy that filled him as he stood before you, basking in the shared glow of a moment that transcended the ordinary.

"Hi, I'm Sunghoon," he introduced himself, his voice carrying a blend of shyness and sincerity. A gentle smile played on his lips as he spoke, the culmination of his admiration and anticipation distilled into this single moment. "I've been a fan for a long time."

Your smile widened, radiating warmth and genuine delight as you leaned in, your eyes twinkling with interest. The closeness allowed you to take in the details of his meticulously chosen jacket. "Wow, Sunghoon," you exclaimed, admiration evident in your tone. "You look so handsome in that jacket! It looks exactly like the one I wore."

Your words were a balm to his nerves, each syllable like a note in a melody he had longed to hear. The recognition and praise in your eyes made his heart swell with a mixture of pride and elation. The jacket, which had become a symbol of his dedication, now served as a bridge between you, connecting his admiration to your artistry in a tangible way.

In that moment, the bustling room seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in a shared bubble of recognition and mutual appreciation. Sunghoon felt a surge of confidence, his earlier nervousness dissipating in the face of your kind words and warm demeanor. The shy smile on his lips grew, reflecting the joy that now filled his heart.

The exchange, though brief, was imbued with a depth of meaning that words alone could scarcely convey. It was a moment of connection, where fan and artist transcended their roles and met as individuals, each acknowledging the other's presence in a world where art and admiration intertwined.

Sunghoon felt a surge of pride swell within him, his earlier nervousness now replaced by a deep sense of connection. “Thank you. Your style is such an inspiration to me. And your music… I listen to it all the time,” he confessed, his voice brimming with genuine admiration.

You chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with warmth and sincerity. “I’m glad you enjoy it. Just make sure to take breaks so you don’t get sick of it, okay?” The gentle teasing in your tone was both comforting and endearing, bridging the gap between artist and admirer.

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions. In that moment, he felt truly seen and understood. “I’ll try. It’s just that your music and style mean so much to me,” he said, his words carrying the weight of countless hours spent immersed in your art.

Reaching out, you patted his shoulder, a gesture of both kindness and acknowledgment. “I appreciate your dedication, Sunghoon. It really means a lot,” you said, your voice imbued with sincerity. The touch was light yet grounding, a tangible connection that left a lasting impression on his heart.

The exchange lingered in the air, a delicate interplay of words and emotions that transcended the ordinary. Sunghoon felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and fulfillment, knowing that his admiration had not only been recognized but also reciprocated. In this brief, beautifully profound moment, the lines between fan and artist blurred, leaving only the pure, unspoken understanding that art, in all its forms, had the power to connect souls.

As you took the photograph and began signing it, Sunghoon felt his nerves gradually settle, the initial flutter of anxiety giving way to a profound sense of calm. The interaction was unfolding in a way that felt far more personal and genuine than he had ever dared to imagine. Each stroke of your pen seemed to bridge the gap between your world and his, transforming a simple autograph into a cherished memory.

When you handed the photo back to him, your smile was radiant and reassuring. “Keep being awesome, Sunghoon,” you said warmly, your voice a soothing balm that enveloped him in a sense of belonging. “And keep sharing your outfits. I love seeing how fans interpret my style.”

The words resonated deeply within him, each syllable a testament to the bond that art and admiration had woven between you. Sunghoon’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy, knowing that his dedication and efforts had not only been acknowledged but celebrated. The photograph in his hands was now a symbol of this extraordinary moment, a tangible reminder of the connection that had blossomed between artist and fan.

In that fleeting yet profound exchange, Sunghoon felt seen, appreciated, and understood. Your encouragement was more than just a compliment; it was an affirmation of his own creative expression and a beacon of inspiration that would continue to guide him. As he looked into your eyes, he saw not just an idol, but a kindred spirit who valued and nurtured the shared love of art and fashion.

The room around them seemed to blur, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as the significance of the moment crystallized in his heart. Sunghoon knew that this encounter would remain etched in his memory, a beacon of light and inspiration that he would carry with him always. The photo, now imbued with your words and warmth, became a cherished memento of an experience that transcended the ordinary, leaving an indelible mark on his soul.

Sunghoon’s heart soared as he expressed his gratitude to you, his voice carrying the heartfelt sincerity of the moment. With a lingering glance back at the stage, he made his way down, feeling as though he were floating on a cloud. The rest of the fan meeting passed in a blur, a whirlwind of activities and emotions, yet the memory of your kind words and warm smile remained vivid and bright, etched into his mind like a cherished painting.

Leaving the venue, the night air felt crisp and refreshing, a perfect counterpoint to the warmth that still radiated within him. Sunghoon knew that his dedication had paid off in ways he had never imagined. The acknowledgment and connection he had felt were more profound than any fan could hope for, a true testament to the bond between artist and admirer.

That evening, with his heart still brimming with excitement, Sunghoon carefully composed a post for his social media. He shared a picture of his meticulously crafted outfit, capturing the essence of the jacket that had sparked your recognition. In his post, he recounted the experience, describing the magic of the fan meeting and encouraging other fans to keep supporting you with the same passion and dedication.

As he scrolled through the responses, he felt a renewed sense of connection, not only to your music and style but to you as a person. The fan meeting had given him a deeper appreciation for everything you did, a glimpse into the heart and soul behind the art he so admired. The comments from fellow fans created a tapestry of shared love and admiration, weaving a community bound by a mutual appreciation for your artistry.

Later, as he prepared for bed, Sunghoon queued up your latest song, a soft smile spreading across his face as the familiar melody filled the room. Each note seemed to shimmer with new meaning, each lyric resonating with the experiences of the day. Meeting you had infused everything with a fresh sense of wonder and excitement, rekindling his enthusiasm and deepening his connection to your work.

With the music playing softly in the background, he closed his eyes, feeling a profound sense of contentment. He knew he would never truly tire of your songs; each listen was a journey, a renewal of his unwavering dedication. As he drifted off to sleep, his dreams were filled with anticipation and curiosity, eager to see what you would create next. The fan meeting had not only been a moment of personal fulfillment but also a promise of continued inspiration and support, a testament to the enduring power of art and connection.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

Seonwoo sat at his desk, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest as he fixated on the countdown timer ticking away on his computer screen. Each passing second brought him closer to a moment he had long fantasized about: a fan call with you, his cherished idol. The anticipation was almost palpable, making the air in his room feel electric with excitement and nervous energy.

His room was a vivid testament to his unwavering devotion. The walls were adorned with an array of your posters, each one capturing a different facet of your career and beauty. Shelves brimming with signed and limited edition merchandise showcased his dedication; every item was a precious relic, carefully preserved and displayed. Even his computer bore evidence of his admiration, filled with meticulously organized folders of your photos, videos, and achievements. Each file represented countless hours spent curating a digital shrine to the person who inspired him most.

As the seconds dwindled, Seonwoo took a deep breath, his eyes wandering over the familiar, comforting chaos of his sanctuary. The posters seemed to smile down at him, offering silent encouragement. The room, once a mere collection of his interests, now felt like a sacred space where his dreams were about to intertwine with reality. His hands trembled slightly, the excitement almost too much to contain, but his spirit soared with the thought that in just a few moments, he would finally get to speak to you, the idol who had unknowingly shaped so much of his world.

When the timer finally struck zero, the screen shimmered to life, and there you were, as if emerging from a dream. Seonwoo's breath hitched in his throat, an almost palpable sensation of wonder coursing through him. Your face, illuminated by a soft, ethereal glow, appeared on the screen, your features radiating warmth and charm.

The sight of you—so vividly present in his world—was almost too incredible to fathom. Your smile, a gentle curve of happiness, seemed to bridge the gap between reality and his wildest fantasies. For a moment, Seonwoo was lost in the magic of it all, struggling to grasp that the person who had inspired his dreams was now smiling directly at him from the other side of the screen.

"Hi, Seonwoo!" you greeted him, your voice ringing with a vibrant cheerfulness that seemed to brighten the room. Your words, imbued with genuine warmth, carried a melodic lilt that made Seonwoo’s heart skip a beat. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you," you continued, your smile expanding to showcase a glimmer of sincerity that made the moment feel all the more magical.

Your presence, though mediated by the screen, was imbued with an inviting aura. The way you spoke, with a natural grace and enthusiasm, created an intimate connection that transcended the digital divide. For Seonwoo, it was as if the space between them had vanished, leaving only the heartfelt exchange and the thrill of meeting the person who had been a beacon of inspiration in his life.

Seonwoo took a deep breath, the weight of his nerves pressing heavily on his chest. He forced a smile, trying to steady the fluttering excitement within him. "Hi!" he managed, his voice a mix of awe and nervousness. "I can hardly believe this is actually happening."

His words tumbled out, tinged with a sincerity that matched the intensity of his feelings. "I'm such a huge fan," he continued, his gaze locked on you, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment. The sheer enormity of the experience overwhelmed him, but the thrill of finally speaking with you, the person he had admired from afar, was an unforgettable rush that made every anxious flutter worth it.

Your smile broadened, becoming a radiant expression of genuine gratitude. "Thank you!" you said, your voice rich with warmth and sincerity. "I truly appreciate your support."

Your eyes sparkled with a sincere interest as you continued, "How are you doing?" The question was delivered with a gentle kindness that made Seonwoo feel as if your concern extended beyond the confines of the screen. The ease in your tone and the genuine curiosity in your gaze created an atmosphere of intimacy, making the moment feel remarkably personal and heartfelt.

"I'm great now," Seonwoo replied, his voice growing steadier as he began to relax. The initial tremor in his tone gave way to a more composed delivery, his excitement still palpable but softened by a newfound calm. 

"I've immersed myself in every detail of your career and your achievements," he continued, a trace of awe lingering in his words. "I’ve followed you since your debut, watching your journey unfold with a sense of wonder." The depth of his admiration was evident in his gaze, as if each memory of your milestones had woven itself into the fabric of his own life.

"Wow, that's truly amazing!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with heartfelt surprise. A look of genuine emotion softened your features, revealing just how deeply your fan’s dedication resonated with you. Your eyes shone with appreciation, as if the weight of Seonwoo’s unwavering support had touched something profoundly personal within you.

"Your dedication means so much to me," you continued, your tone brimming with warmth and gratitude. With a bright, curious glint in your eye, you leaned slightly forward, eager to engage. "So, what's your favorite song from my newest album?" The question was posed with an earnest interest, inviting Seonwoo to share in the joy of your latest work, and further deepening the bond between you.

Seonwoo's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, his expression lighting up as he spoke. "That's a tough choice," he admitted, his voice reflecting the depth of his admiration. "But if I had to choose, I think my favorite would have to be 'Eternal Echoes.'"

He paused for a moment, choosing his words with care, as if savoring the memories the song evoked. "The lyrics are so profoundly meaningful, each line woven with a resonance that touches the soul," he continued, his tone filled with reverence. "And the melody—it’s simply beautiful. It captivated me completely and struck a chord deep within, making it a song that I find myself returning to time and again."

You nodded with a radiant smile, your eyes alight with genuine pleasure. "I’m so glad to hear that you like 'Eternal Echoes,'" you said, your voice softening with a touch of nostalgia. "It’s actually one of my favorites as well."

A hint of emotion colored your tone as you continued, "I poured a lot of my heart into that song." Your words carried a sense of deep personal connection, as if sharing a piece of your soul through the melody and lyrics. The sincerity in your voice conveyed the dedication and passion you had invested, making the moment feel all the more intimate and special.

Seonwoo cast a thoughtful glance around his room, the vibrant tapestry of his admiration for you spread out before him. Each corner of the space held a cherished piece of memorabilia, a testament to his devotion. He carefully selected a signed album from a neatly organized shelf, its cover shimmering softly in the ambient light.

With a mixture of reverence and excitement, he held it up, his eyes gleaming with pride. "This," he said, his voice tinged with affection, "is one of my most prized possessions." He paused, his gaze lingering on the autograph, a tangible connection to the moment of joy when he had received it. "I was absolutely over the moon when I got your autograph. It felt like a dream come true."

You smiled warmly, a soft glow of genuine affection illuminating your features. "I’m truly glad that it means so much to you," you said, your voice imbued with heartfelt sincerity. The warmth of your smile seemed to envelop the space between you, bridging the gap with an emotional connection.

"It’s fans like you," you continued, your eyes reflecting deep appreciation, "who make everything worthwhile." Your words were a tender acknowledgment, as if you were sharing a secret about the profound impact that loyal supporters have on your journey. The sincerity in your tone and the genuine sparkle in your gaze conveyed just how much you valued the support, making the moment feel exceptionally personal and meaningful.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, like a gentle stream weaving through a lush, verdant landscape. Seonwoo, his initial nervousness now a distant memory, eagerly asked about your creative process, the spark of inspiration behind your work, and the favorite moments that had defined your career.

You listened with genuine interest, your eyes reflecting the depth of your engagement. Each question was met with thoughtful consideration, your answers weaving a tapestry of insights and stories. You spoke of the quiet moments when inspiration struck, the late nights spent perfecting lyrics, and the joyous occasions that had marked your journey. Your voice carried a melodic rhythm, drawing Seonwoo further into the enchanting world of your artistry.

As Seonwoo hung on to every word, his admiration grew even deeper. The exchange was more than just a conversation; it was a heartfelt connection. You expressed your gratitude for his unwavering support, acknowledging how fans like him fueled your passion and drive. The sincerity in your tone made each expression of thanks feel like a precious gift, further cementing the bond between artist and admirer.

As the call neared its end, Seonwoo felt a bittersweet blend of happiness and sadness wash over him. The joy of having spoken to you, his idol, was tempered by the wistful realization that this cherished moment was drawing to a close. His heart swelled with gratitude for the precious opportunity, yet he couldn't help but wish for just a bit more time.

"Thank you so much for this," Seonwoo said, his voice carrying a depth of emotion. "It means the world to me."

Your smile softened, imbued with a gentle warmth that seemed to reach through the screen. "Thank you, Seonwoo," you replied, your words sincere and heartfelt. "Your support and dedication are truly inspiring. Keep being awesome, and I'll keep doing my best for fans like you."

The sentiment lingered in the air, wrapping Seonwoo in a comforting embrace. As the screen dimmed and the call ended, he was left with a lasting impression of your kindness and authenticity, a memory he would treasure forever.

The screen slowly faded to black, and Seonwoo leaned back in his chair, a profound sense of fulfillment washing over him. The virtual meeting with you, even through a screen, had surpassed all his hopes and dreams. He felt a warm glow of contentment, knowing that his dedication had been recognized and appreciated. This acknowledgment fueled his passion, igniting a desire to continue supporting you in every way possible.

With his heart still brimming with emotion, Seonwoo turned to his fan accounts, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. He composed a heartfelt message, pouring out his gratitude and excitement. He shared the experience in vivid detail, recounting the precious moments and expressing his appreciation for the opportunity. The response from fellow fans was immediate and enthusiastic, their shared joy amplifying his own.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

Jungwon sat anxiously in his living room, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the arm of the couch. The soft glow of the television cast flickering shadows on the walls, heightening the anticipation that pulsed through him. Tonight was the night. His heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves as he kept his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for the moment that could change everything.

The variety show, known for its lively and unpredictable content, was airing tonight's episode, and you were the guest star. For weeks, Jungwon had poured his heart and soul into creating the perfect video, meticulously crafting a fun and unique challenge for you to perform. He had spent countless hours brainstorming, filming, and editing, ensuring every detail was flawless. This wasn't just any video; it was a labor of love, a tribute to his admiration for you.

As one of your biggest fans, Jungwon knew every nuance of your career, every highlight and milestone. He admired your talent, your charisma, and the way you brought joy to your audience. This was his chance to connect with you in a way that went beyond the screen, to share a piece of himself and maybe, just maybe, catch your attention.

The minutes felt like hours as he waited, each passing second intensifying the knot of anticipation in his stomach. He imagined your reaction, the possibility of seeing you smile or laugh because of something he had created. The thought filled him with a warmth that chased away some of the nerves, replacing them with a hopeful excitement.

Finally, the moment arrived. The host announced the next segment, and Jungwon's video began to play. His breath caught in his throat as he watched, his heart racing with a blend of fear and exhilaration. This was it—the culmination of his efforts, his passion, and his dreams.

The show began with a burst of vibrant colors and lively music, the kind that set hearts racing with excitement. Jungwon's pulse quickened, each beat echoing the rhythm of the show's energetic theme. As the charismatic host took the stage, Jungwon's grip on the remote tightened, his knuckles turning white.

The host's voice, warm and enthusiastic, filled the room as he introduced the much-anticipated segment where fans could send in challenges for their favorite idols. This was the moment Jungwon had been waiting for, the culmination of weeks of effort and countless hours of perfecting his video. The possibility of his challenge being featured on the show was a dream he had nurtured with care and dedication.

Jungwon's eyes were glued to the screen, his breath coming in shallow, anxious bursts. The room seemed to shrink around him, narrowing his focus to the television as the first fan-submitted video played. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a palpable tension that thrummed through his veins. He could feel the weight of the moment, the delicate balance between hope and uncertainty.

As each video played, Jungwon's heart raced faster, a tumultuous mix of excitement and nervousness swirling within him. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out everything but the sound of his own rapid heartbeat. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, each one a step closer to the possibility of seeing his creation on the screen.

Finally, the host announced the next submission, and the screen flickered to life with a familiar scene. Jungwon's heart leaped into his throat as he recognized his own video, the one he had crafted with such care and passion. A wave of emotions crashed over him—relief, joy, and a renewed sense of anticipation. This was his moment, a chance to connect with his idol in a way he had always dreamed of.

"And now, we have a special challenge sent in by a dedicated fan named Jungwon," the host announced with a flourish, his voice resonating with enthusiasm. Jungwon's heart leaped at the sound of his name, a jolt of exhilaration electrifying his entire being. The moment he had been dreaming of was finally unfolding before his eyes.

The screen transitioned smoothly to his video, the familiar sight filling the room with a vibrant energy. Jungwon watched as his own face appeared on the screen, a mixture of excitement and nervousness visible in his eyes. He began to explain the challenge he had painstakingly crafted: a fun and quirky dance routine, a fusion of creativity and admiration. 

In the video, Jungwon's passion was palpable. His voice, steady yet brimming with enthusiasm, described the dance he had choreographed himself. He had meticulously blended some of your signature moves, the ones that had always captivated him, with innovative new steps he hoped you would enjoy. Each move was chosen with care, designed to showcase your unique style while adding a fresh twist that was distinctly his own.

The camera captured his fluid movements as he demonstrated the routine, each step a testament to his dedication and love for your art. He twirled and leaped with a grace that belied the hours of practice and refinement that had gone into perfecting the choreography. The music pulsed through the speakers, its rhythm aligning with the beat of his heart as he danced with abandon.

Jungwon's hope was that this dance, a heartfelt tribute to you, would not only bring a smile to your face but also forge a connection that transcended the screen. He had poured his soul into every movement, every transition, infusing the routine with his admiration and respect for your talent. As the video played on, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and anticipation, knowing that his creation was now in your hands.

As the video began to play, Jungwon's gaze was locked on your reaction. Every subtle change in your expression was a new chapter in the unfolding narrative of his dreams. You leaned forward, eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement that sent a thrill down his spine. "This looks interesting," you said, your smile radiant and infectious. The warmth in your voice was like a melody, and Jungwon's heart swelled with joy.

The camera captured your every move as you rose gracefully from your seat, your demeanor radiating excitement. You positioned yourself with an air of readiness, your body poised to dance. Jungwon could hardly contain his breath, his excitement mounting with each passing second. The anticipation was palpable, a living, breathing entity that filled the room.

As the music began, you mirrored the moves from his video, your movements a blend of elegance and playful energy. Laughter bubbled from your lips as you navigated the steps, your joy evident in every misstep and triumph. The way you tried to get the steps right, each attempt imbued with determination and delight, made the moment even more enchanting.

The audience erupted into cheers, their enthusiasm a resounding chorus that filled the studio. The host, ever supportive, joined in the encouragement, his voice adding to the lively atmosphere. Jungwon felt a surge of pride swell within him, a tidal wave of emotions that washed over him with an almost overwhelming force. 

He watched as you immersed yourself in the dance, your laughter and smiles a testament to the connection he had hoped to forge. Each move you made, every joyous exclamation, was a validation of his efforts and dreams. In that moment, Jungwon's world seemed to align perfectly, his passion and dedication shining through in the shared experience of his carefully crafted dance routine.

"This is really fun! Jungwon, you did a fantastic job with this choreography," you exclaimed, your voice slightly breathless but filled with genuine admiration. A rosy flush colored your cheeks, and a radiant smile spread across your face as you caught your breath. "I absolutely love it!"

Your words echoed in Jungwon's mind, each syllable a note in a symphony of validation and joy. He could feel his heart swell with pride, the sheer ecstasy of hearing you praise his work enveloping him like a warm embrace. The admiration in your eyes was a shimmering reflection of the effort and passion he had poured into creating the dance routine.

The host, beaming with delight, turned to address the audience. "Looks like Jungwon has a promising future in choreography!" he declared, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Thank you for sending in such a creative and entertaining challenge."

The applause that followed was thunderous, a wave of appreciation that seemed to lift Jungwon's spirits even higher. He could hardly believe that his creation had not only reached you but had also brought you joy and laughter. The host's words, echoing the sentiment of the moment, felt like a prophecy, a glimpse into a future where his passion for dance could lead to something extraordinary.

Jungwon's mind raced with possibilities, his imagination painting vivid pictures of what could come next. The dream he had nurtured in the quiet moments of practice and creation was now blossoming into reality, each cheer and clap a testament to his talent and hard work. The connection he felt in that instant, not just with you but with everyone who had witnessed the dance, was a beautiful tapestry woven from threads of admiration, creativity, and shared joy.

Jungwon couldn't contain his joy. The sight of you enjoying his challenge and hearing your praise felt like a dream come true. His heart swelled with an indescribable elation, and he quickly grabbed his phone, his fingers trembling with excitement. He posted a clip of the segment on his fan accounts, eager to share this incredible moment with his fellow fans. The response was immediate and overwhelming, a cascade of congratulatory messages and expressions of delight flooding his notifications.

The comments were a chorus of shared joy and admiration. Friends and fans alike marveled at the creativity of his challenge and celebrated the fact that it had been featured on the show. Jungwon felt a profound sense of connection, a bond strengthened by the collective excitement of the fandom. Each notification was a reminder that he was not alone in his admiration for you; he was part of a vibrant community that shared his passion.

As the show continued, his phone buzzed incessantly with messages from friends and fellow fans. The outpouring of support and shared enthusiasm was heartwarming, filling him with a deep sense of pride. Not only had his challenge been showcased, but it had also brought joy to you, making the moment all the more special. The realization that his creation had made an impact on you was a source of immense satisfaction and fulfillment.

Later that night, Jungwon found himself replaying the segment over and over. Each viewing brought a fresh wave of happiness, the smile on his face growing wider with every replay. The experience had exceeded his wildest hopes, igniting a newfound sense of inspiration within him. He felt a burning desire to continue creating, to keep pushing the boundaries of his passion and supporting you in any way he could.

The memory of watching you perform his challenge was a highlight of his journey as a fan, a luminous moment that he knew he would treasure forever. It was a testament to the power of dedication, creativity, and the unbreakable bond between an artist and their admirers. As he drifted off to sleep that night, the smile never left his face, and his heart was full of dreams for what the future might hold.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

Riki sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his eager face. His fingers trembled slightly as he clutched the device, heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and excitement. Just moments ago, a notification had appeared on the screen: you had reacted to the dance cover he had posted on TikTok. The realization felt almost surreal.

For weeks, Riki had dedicated countless hours to perfecting the choreography to one of your latest songs. Each movement had been carefully honed, every step imbued with his boundless energy and unwavering passion. The process had been a labor of love, a testament to his admiration for you and your artistry. 

Now, in the quiet sanctity of his room, he found himself confronted with the astonishing truth: his idol had seen his work. The walls around him seemed to pulse with the same rhythm that had driven his practice, as if sharing in his triumph. The air was thick with the echoes of his dedication, a tangible reminder of the countless nights spent rehearsing, perfecting, and dreaming.

As he sat there, the magnitude of the moment washed over him. It was as if the universe had conspired to align his efforts with a dream come true, a beacon of recognition shining brightly in his life. The world outside might have remained unchanged, but within the confines of his room, everything felt different—charged with possibility and the promise of what could be.

With a swift, almost reverent motion, he opened the app, his fingers dancing with a blend of urgency and anticipation. He navigated to your profile, each tap of the screen a deliberate step towards the moment he had been waiting for. There it was—a duet video that had emerged from the digital ether, a striking juxtaposition of his dance cover alongside your reaction.

As he tapped on the video, his heart quickened, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing his mounting excitement. The screen came alive with the vivid, familiar tableau of his own room, now transformed into a stage of personal significance. The opening notes of the song filled the space, the melody unfurling like a delicate ribbon, weaving through the air as he began the intricate routine he had labored over.

The choreography that had once been a solitary endeavor now pulsated with new life, accompanied by the visual testament of your response. Each movement he had practiced with meticulous care unfolded in harmony with your reactions, creating a seamless blend of artistry and acknowledgment. The scene was a breathtaking testament to his dedication, captured in the intimate setting of his room yet resonating with the grand significance of a dream realized.

As the video unfolded, you emerged on the split screen, your gaze fixed with a blend of concentration and admiration. The moment your eyes fell upon the opening moves, they widened in astonishment, and a radiant smile blossomed across your face. "Wow, Riki, you’re really good!" you exclaimed, your voice bubbling with genuine enthusiasm as you clapped your hands in appreciation.

Riki's heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of pride and joy. He watched, spellbound, as you attempted to mirror his moves, your own energetic efforts weaving through the choreography. The sincerity of your reaction was palpable, your infectious energy casting a warm glow over the video. As you struggled to keep pace with some of the more intricate steps, your laughter rang out, a melodious testament to your enjoyment.

"This is amazing!" you declared, your voice tinged with exhilaration. Your attempts to keep up with the more complicated segments were endearing, each misstep only adding to the charm of the moment. "You’ve got some serious skills," you added, the admiration in your tone leaving no doubt about the impact Riki’s performance had made.

As the video continued to play, your voice wove a tapestry of praise and encouragement, each word resonating with warmth and sincerity. Your genuine enthusiasm was evident in every comment you made, and the way you cheered him on with heartfelt fervor only heightened Riki's sense of disbelief. 

To see his idol reacting so positively, to hear you express admiration for his dance cover, was a dream realized beyond anything he had ever imagined. Each of your encouraging words was like a golden thread, stitching together the fabric of his hopes and aspirations. 

Riki felt a euphoric surge of joy and excitement, a bubbling elation that seemed to illuminate every corner of his being. It was as if every ounce of effort, every painstaking moment of practice had been acknowledged and celebrated by the very person he admired. The sense of validation that enveloped him was profound, a poignant reminder that his relentless dedication had truly borne fruit.

As the final frames of the video faded, Riki remained seated in a state of stunned reverence, his mind still reeling from the extraordinary moment. The room seemed to hold its breath as he absorbed the magnitude of what had just unfolded. It felt as though time itself had paused, allowing him to savor the profound significance of your reaction.

With a rush of excitement, he swiftly shared the duet on his own TikTok account. His fingers moved with a blend of urgency and care as he crafted a caption imbued with heartfelt gratitude, a testament to the overwhelming joy and appreciation he felt. 

Almost instantly, his phone began to buzz with a flurry of activity. Notifications erupted like a cascade of shooting stars, each one a glowing testament to the support and admiration pouring in from friends and fellow fans. Likes, comments, and messages flooded his screen, each one a vibrant expression of shared excitement and encouragement. The once-quiet room was now alive with the digital applause of those who celebrated his achievement alongside him.

Riki dedicated the remainder of the evening to a whirlwind of joy and celebration, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he replied to the influx of comments and messages. Each notification was a burst of radiant support from the community, a testament to the genuine connection he felt with those who shared his excitement. His friends joined in the festivities, their enthusiasm mirroring his own, creating an atmosphere brimming with shared triumph.

The acknowledgment from you, his idol, filled him with an exhilarating sense of accomplishment. It was as though he had reached the pinnacle of a long-cherished dream, and the warmth of your appreciation deepened his admiration. He had always marveled at your talent and dedication from afar, but now, that admiration had evolved into something profoundly personal. The recognition you offered was a bridge between his passion and your artistry, and it made him feel as if he was floating on a cloud of euphoria.

Before retiring for the night, Riki watched the duet one final time. He immersed himself in the vivid moments of your reaction, savoring the way your eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and how your laughter seemed to dance along with the music. Each replay was a precious moment, a reminder of the incredible connection they had forged. This experience, etched into his memory like a cherished photograph, would be a beacon guiding his journey forward. The encounter with his idol had been a dream manifested into reality, and he eagerly anticipated the next chapter of his path, driven by the renewed vigor and passion it had ignited within him.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @d-dilemma (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @levi-09 @itjengirl @engentiny @clampclover @neos127 @jwonistic @mimisxs

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

[youkaiyume]

So, are you going to be watching transformers one? And what was your favorite version of Bumblebee in each depiction?

I DID watch Transformers One (twice). I'm ngl, TFOne Bee probably ranks the among the lowest on my list of favorite Bumblebee depictions. I just don't think his voice fits. Now character-wise he is not dissimilar to TFA Bee or Cyberverse Bee. Both of which are very talkative and hyperactive--I liken them to little kids. Kind of annoying, but they also come off as more endearing because their voices are skewed younger and more playful. So we get the impression that they are less mature and younger than their teammates.

TFOne Bee.... just sounds like a 40 year old man who never outgrew his frat boy phase so it's very hard for me to like him. I'm sure if all of his lines were read by a younger sounding voice actor it would not come off nearly as grating to me. I think they really fumbled by insisting on using Keegan (who is great in other roles! just not this one) and wanting his default comedian personality that never shuts up. I am of the firm belief that just because you want Bee to talk now does not mean the solution is to never have him shut up ever.

Beyond that I don't think Bumblebee in TFOne brings much to the table besides comedic relief. He does not have any strong views or convictions when it comes to the conflict at hand, and probably could be removed from the movie without much difference. He seems to be there for the sake of having mandatory Bumblebee, which pains me to say because I LOVE Bumblebee. obviously.

But most egregiously, they put antenna on him and then NEVER did any sort of reveal where they can pop up and then do cute antenna twitchy things. Blasphemy.

On my ranking of Bumblebees in every universe I tend to go:

Bumblebee Movie!Bee (of course, my cute soft boi)

RID 2015 Bee (shocking to most ppl but if you know me, I just love his dorky Dad energy. Also have you seen him smolder?)

Transformers Prime Bee (RID, TFP and Rescue Bots in general as part of the aligned continuity sits in the top spots)

Earthspark Bee (for the same Dad energy)

G1 Bee

Cyberverse Bee

TFA Bee

TFOne Bee

War for Cyberton Bee

Bayverse Bumblebee

I didn't include any comics cuz I haven't read them yet. Despite my gripes with TFOne Bee, I do think he has his moments and no matter what, all Bumblebees are good Bees.

[choke-me-joey]

Can I get prompt 49 with Eddie?

Friends to lovers, reader and Eddie are stoned and she casually asks him “wanna fuck?”

My fave stoner metalhead fucks like a champ and we all know it 🥰

49. Wanna fuck?

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, drug use (only weed it's chill), friends to lovers, bareback piv, oral (f receiving), Eddie talks too much, creampie, the usual filth

Hoe-vember masterlist

This was the definition of happiness. Sat in Eddie's living room on a Friday night, a large pizza devoured between you both, beers sipped, spliff smoked and Halloween playing on the Munson's tiny TV. Wayne was working a double tonight, and your parents were out of town for their anniversary, so you had moved in with your best friend for the weekend.

You were curled up in a ball on the couch, the high from the weed hitting you nicely. Eddie snickers from the other end of the couch.

"As if a butcher knife can hold up a body like that, man, I love this movie but that's fuckin' stupid." He rambles to himself before taking another sip of beer. You watch him from your end of the couch.

Eddie was your best friend in the entire world, the two of you having been inseparable since you were 7. Over the years you'd developed a crush on the long haired boy, which now, as you were both in your 20s, was running rampant 24/7. It didn't help that as you'd gotten older and hormones had reared their heads your friendship had become one of flirtatious jokes and banter, leading pretty much everyone to question why the fuck hadn't you gotten together yet?

You watch Eddie tilt his head back further to get the remaining dregs of his beer out of the bottle, and your eyes drag over that beautiful, beautiful neck of his, with that prominent vein and milky skin just begging to be marked up. Your mouth went dry and your head went all fuzzy. Your thighs squeezed together involuntarily to try and quell the throbbing between your legs. Fuck, why did you have to get so horny when you were high?!

Eddie stands up and stretches, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of pale skin with a dark trail of hair leading into his pants and you swear you almost choked. God, you wanted to lick his stomach- was that weird? To kiss and lick that area below his belly button and follow the trail of hair down, down to his-

"Another beer, babe?" Eddie's slightly slurred voice cut you off and you quickly look away, acting as if you were studying the edge of blanket draped over your legs instead.

"S-sure." You squeaked clearing your throat. Eddie guffaws.

"Good stuff tonight, right? Rick really set me up good. Been impressed with my sales so let me have some of the finer grass."

You shoot him a sleepy eyed smile and nod, watching as he walks to the fridge and retrieves 2 more beers, cracking them open and returning back to the couch.

"Wanna fuck?" The words leave your mouth before your brain can even catch up and tell you what a stupid fucking idea it is.

Eddie eyes widen, and he dramatically spits out the mouthful of beer he'd just taken, coughing.

"W-what?!" He gasps, regaining his composure slightly, and a grin creeping across his stupid, dumbe, dorky, perfect face. "Seriously?!"

"Forget it." You mumble, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "You're laughing at me."

"Y/N, I'm not laughing at you, I'm just...surprised, I guess? Shit, I've had a crush on you since forever, I mean, Jesus, how could I not? You're so...so fucking beautiful and smart and funny and I'm the town freak, y'know? Never thought you'd like me that way-" he cuts himself off. "-do you...like me that way? Or are you just bored and horny? Wait, fuck it, I don't care."

He scrambles over to your side of the couch and smashes his mouth to yours, kissing you with an energy you could only compare to that of when he is DM'ing, or playing on stage. You moan happily and wrap your arms around his neck, allowing you both to sink into the couch, Eddie's body moving completely on top of yours.

Eddie licks along your bottom lip and you open your mouth allowing his tongue to find yours. As the kiss grows more heated and sensual, you lift up your hips to grind against Eddie, and the friction from the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans has you moaning into his mouth.

"Shit, fuck, you're really fucking sexy, ya know that?" Eddie huffs out a laugh as you reach between you and palm him through his jeans. "Fuck, this is a dream, this can't be real-"

"Eddie, shut up," you giggle, pressing kisses to his cheek and jaw, ghosting over his neck. You lock eyes with him and flick open his belt and button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down and dipping your hand into his underwear, hand enclosing around his cock. Your pussy clenches at how thick he feels in your hand. "Shit, freak, you never told me you were packing."

"You never asked." Eddie smirks, and you stroke his cock slowly, making him groan loudly and drop his head to your shoulder. You smear the precum gathering on his head around with your thumb, and you swear you hear him whine against your neck. Your hand moves up and down his length slowly, making his hips buck into your hand. "Fuck, sweetheart, this is embarrassing but I won't last long if you carry on, been thinking about this for years-"

"Yeah? Been thinking about me jerking you off, Eds? About cumming all over my hand, or in my mouth?"

"Shit, babe, don't say shit like that, gonna make me blow my load way too early," Eddie pants, his face flushed. "Can I eat your pussy? Wanna taste you so bad."

"Fuck, yes, please." You nod and Eddie practically rips your pants and underwear off. He started transfixed and you feel yourself blushing. "Eddie..." You mumble, trying to scoot away. He grabs your hips and holds you in place.

"Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart, I'm committing this to memory, you're so fucking perfect." He spreads your legs, and practically salivates at the sight of your glistening pussy. "Shit, babe, look, she's fucking soaked. This all because of me?" He slowly runs a finger through your slick, circling your clit teasingly. Your back arches.

"Eddie! Shit, yes, always because of you, think about you all the time-" you whimper out, and your admission makes him blanch.

"Y-you do?" He asks quietly, and you nod.

"I'm not just bored, or high, or horny, Eds, always wanted you, always."

"Shit, we're a real pair of fucking idiots," Eddie chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. "You mean we could have been doing this for months, years even?!"

"M'sorry," you pout. "Didn't think you liked me that way."

"Oh baby, you don't have to worry about that anymore. M'not letting you go anywhere now, never make you doubt me again, okay?"

You nod and Eddie pecks your lips before trailing kisses down your stomach and then your thighs, deliberately avoiding your pussy. You whine, bucking your hips slightly and Eddie chuckles, pinning your hips down with his arm.

"Be patient, princess, hmm? Can you do that for me? Can you be a good girl?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Eddie, promise, I'll be so good for y-OU!" The last syllable comes out as a shout as Eddie licks from your hole to your clit, flicking it with with tongue.

"Shh, sweetheart, the whole trailer park is gonna hear you." Eddie smirks as he slips a finger into your pussy and you moan out his name. "Oh? You like that? You like the idea of everyone hearing what a naughty girl you're being, huh?"

"Eddieee!"

"Alright, alright, baby, can't wait any longer to taste you anyway." He nips your inner thigh, making your leg jerk. He snickers, the little shit, before making it up to you by placing a kiss on your clit, swiping his tongue over it. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling in his curls as he continues to work his tongue over your swollen clit, licking and sucking and moaning appreciatively as you tug on his hair. He slides another finger into you and curls them to find that spongy spot, and his fingers work in tandem with his tongue.

You swore the weed was making this more intense but maybe Eddie was just that good. Nobody had ever eaten your pussy like this before, not even close. Eddie had you on the edge within minutes, the coil in your belly ready to snap at any moment. Your legs were shaking and your head was spinning, the high from both pleasure and weed was making you feel as if you were floating.

"Fuck, Eddie, don't stop, don't stop baby, please, m'so close, gonna cum, y'gonna make me cum so hard!" You cry, and Eddie moves his fingers faster, not letting up on the incredible rhythm he had set with his tongue. Your orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train, your back sharply arching and your thighs clamping around his head as you cry out his name in a broken moan, your release gushing over his tongue and fingers, even his chin. Your vision goes white and you almost forget how to breathe normally.

"Holy shit, princess, that was a big one, huh? You still with me?" Eddie is grinning as he comes up to face you, your juices shining on his goofy face. You nod, pulling him in for a kiss, not minding the taste of yourself. His cock brushes over your pussy, making the both of you moan into the kiss. He breaks away, sitting up. "Condom."

"M'on the pill, Eds," you smile coyly at him and he closes his eyes, groaning.

"Fucking hell sweetheart, you want me to fuck you bareback? Fill you up with my cum?"

You nod eagerly and he climbs back on top of you, sitting back on his heels to take his shirt off. He then tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you sit up, allowing him to peel it off you and throw it to join his somewhere in the room. He groans at your simple black bra, and you grin at him as you reach behind you and unclasp it, letting your tits spill out.

"Jesus H Christ, I always knew you had a perfect rack but...shit, they're even better out the bra than in," Eddie practically growls, cupping your boobs in his hands and experimentally pinching your nipples. When you jolt and whine, he chuckles darkly. "Oh fuck, sensitive, huh?"

"Eddie, come on..." You buck your hips against him, his cock sliding perfectly against your wetness.

"Shit, alright, alright, I got you baby, lie back for me okay? You're not a virgin, right?"

"Eddie!" You snap. He already knows the answer.

He shushes you with another kiss as the head of his cock pushes in to your tight hole, the warm and wet of you making his brain feel like it was buzzing. A few more inches push in and you already feel so fucking stretched out. By the time he's got his entire length in you, you're wondering how the hell he's even going to move; you'd never been this full before.

"Shit, Eds, you're fucking huge, can feel you in my fucking stomach," you gasp and he snorts, placing a hand on your lower belly.

"Yeah? Can you feel me right-" he pulls out and pushes back in. "-here, yeah? Ooh fuck, I know you can, I can fucking see my cock, princess, so fucking deep in this perfect little pussy. You good? Want me to keep going?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, Eddie, fuck me till I can't fucking walk," you hiss. He plants his hands either side of your body on the couch and starts building up a rhythm, the trailer filled with the slap of skin against skin and squelches of your arousal. You bring your hands up onto his back, your nails digging into the skin, which only seems to spur him on.

"God, Y/N, this pussy was fucking made for my cock. Taking it so well, sweetheart, letting me fuck you so good-" Eddie grunts out as he fucks into you, shivering when your muscles clamp down on him. "Shit, baby, you keep doing that and this is gonna be over way too fast."

You're just about to open your mouth for a witty response when Eddie suddenly hikes up your legs over his shoulders. Your mouth drops open and your brows furrow. "Oh, shit, that's better isn't it, huh princess? Can see it on that beautiful face, you gonna cum for me again angel? Wanna feel you cum on my cock."

"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, fuck, right there, right there!" You moan, clawing at the couch beneath you as your orgasm starts to build again. Eddie brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it harshly. The stimulation from his cock and his thumb is too much, deliciously so, and you cum, screaming his name as your pussy clamps down on his cock. He fucks you through it, cooing at you as you come down from your high.

"Look so fucking pretty when you cum, baby. Feels so good around my cock, shit, I'm getting close, you sure you want it inside?"

You lock your legs around his waist in response, and he lets out a breathless chuckle.

"You're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

"I hope not, I didn't get to blow you yet. Cum for me Eds, wanna feel you fill me up." You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss, moaning against his mouth as his thrusts speed up, chasing his high.

"Fuck, gonna cum baby, gonna cum, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Eddie slams his cock into you as deep as he possibly could once more, releasing rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums so much you feel it dripping out of you before he's even pulled out. The noise he lets out is beautiful; a broken moan paired with your name. Eddie drops down on top of you, his face buried in your neck. "Holy shit, I don't think I've ever cum so hard. This is it now, babe, your pussy is way too fuckin' good, you're stuck with me."

"I was kinda hoping that was the case anyway," you giggle as he lifts his face from your shoulder to look down at you, grinning like a fool.

"Yeah? You wanna be my girl?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"Babe, I'm high and also coming down from the best orgasm I've had in my life, you gotta be clear with me now." Eddie brushes his nose against yours, pecking your lips. "It's cool if you wanna keep this as a one time thing, or a fuck buddies thing-"

"Eddie, shut up." You grin, once more pulling him into a kiss.

[snorky]

hiiii im back to very respectfully request more trent frederic! literally anything works if its 500 words or 3000 i do not care.

- anon 🌹

Tell Me A Sweet, Sweet Lie

Hey y’all! And hi again to the lovely requester, anon 🌹. I hope you all are doing well and lovely, and I deeply apologize again for this very delayed post, life has not been too sunshine and rainbows, but that’s for another time. A sweet Trent Frederic x F!Reader, strangers to lovers, fake dating, summer-time party fic for y’all. I hope you all enjoy this fic, and remember to take care of yourself!

Pairing: Trent Frederic x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Some creep/sleazy dude (ew), Fake Dating, (let me know if I need to add anything)

—

—

As the summer sun seemed to beam onto her skin delicately, her sundress swayed in the wind, all whimsical and magic sewn into the hem. Her drink swirled in her grasp, a non-alcoholic refresher as she was the designated driver for her friends, who were talking to their partners and their friends. 

She didn’t mind the lack of company, but rather, she savored it as it felt like it was her only time to herself in such a busy and hectic life.

Laughter and easy conversation could be heard from around her, little snip-bits of people catching up with one another after a while, revisiting old and fond memories, and overall, just seizing the moment as they all reminisced. 

A small bonfire was started further off from the house, people setting up their chairs and blankets to gather around the blazing warmth, with some holding bags of marshmallows and chocolate for s’mores. It was a small detail, and yet it reminded her about her youth, eating the sugary sweetness until she was laughing on the ground, energy and hyperness zipping through her.

As she was lost in her thoughts, she felt an arm slide around her waist. “Hey beautiful, wanna ditch this party and go back to my place?”

 Stepping away from the strange person, whom she could barely recognize from her friends and her mutual friends alike, she shook her head. “No, no thanks.” She waved her hand in kind dismissal, hoping to not escalate the situation further. “I need to drive my friends back home,”

Eyeing her up and down, the look in his eyes made her sick to her stomach, unease starting to settle in her. “I’m sure they won’t notice that we’ll be gone for a bit—” His hot breath fanned over her neck uncomfortably, causing her to shrink away.

“I have a boyfriend!” she blurted. It was a quick, most likely, out-of-pocket response, but her mind ran a little empty in trying to figure out how to deter this stranger away from her.

He looked around the back yard, trying to search for this said ‘boyfriend’ of hers. “I don’t see him around here,” he scoffed.

Putting a finger up, she gave him a lopsided smile. “One moment, he’s inside I think—”

She ran off towards the direction of the backdoor of the house, hoping to find someone that could be her ‘boyfriend’ for a brief moment.

And with her luck, she ran into someone carrying a bowl of chips. He looked a little dorky if she could be truly honest, with curly light brown hair peeking out from his baseball cap, a gently soft face to tie it all together.

“I’m so sorry, but I need you to do a really quick favor for me,” she whispered in a rushed sequence.

He looked at her with a confused expression for a brief moment before responding. “Yeah? What is it?”

She bit the inside of her cheek nervously, hoping that this wouldn’t backfire terribly. “Pretend to be my boyfriend, just for like, the next few moments—” she looked at him, an apology prepared in her head in case he didn’t want to. “—please.”

A small smile formed on his face, “Tell me the ground rules and I’m all set.”

She sighed as a wave of relief washed over her, wiping her palms on her dress. “Well okay, first, I need to know your name. And secondly, I give you permission to touch me—like, arm around my waist—but nothing more!” A warm flush was visible on her neck and face from embarrassment, causing him to let out a small chuckle.

“Okay, okay, I kinda get it—and my name is Trent.” 

He stuck out his hand for her to shake, and she introduced herself to him as she took his hand. Her hand felt perfect in his own, their palms molding together as if they were meant to be, although he wouldn’t openly exclaim that since he just met her.

Her demeanor was angelic, the evening sun not denying it a single bit, and it pulled him in deeper, wanting to be around her presence more, savoring every moment with her. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed her earlier on at the party, but he was beyond grateful nonetheless. 

Pulling away, she clasped her own hands together. “Great!” She turned around and started to walk back towards the patio door, glancing over her shoulder as she noticed that he hadn’t moved a step. “You coming?”

Her voice snapped him back to reality, a gentle blush casting over his face as he realized that he was standing there in the dining area like a fool. “Yeah, sorry hun—”

The words flowed out of his mouth easily, a comforting taste on his tongue, and to her, it sounded like she could get used to him calling her sweetly so often. She smiled at him, cheeks warmed and rosy.

“No worries, love,”

They both walked outside, and took her hand in his, their fingers intertwining, and the sunset sky seemed to shine down on the both of them in approval. It felt so right to hold his hand, as if it was some sort of fairytale-meant-to-be situation. His thumb was grazing over her knuckles lightly, delicately, and it made her melt like ice cream on a hot day.

She looked over at him, his soft expression making her heart flutter in her chest despite having only met him a few minutes ago. He made her feel so in love, so fuzzy and infatuated with him, and she had a small hope burning inside of her that it could last a little longer than just for tonight.

“Let’s sit here, I’ll make you a s’more.” His smile was just as sweet as the marshmallow he reached for, skewering it onto the stick before he hovered it over the fire.

Sitting down beside him, she rested her head against him, a blurry tiredness washing over her already despite the sun not having fully set yet.

He handed the s’more over to her, marshmallow a perfect toast, chocolate slightly melted. “Here you go, enjoy it sweetheart,”

Smiling back at him, she took a bite of the sweet treat, the flavors too sweet almost, like a familiar childhood. They both remained like this for a little, sitting there and relaxing as the sound of others around them continued, a lively scene.

Trent looked around, making sure that everyone else around the both of them were occupied, due to the fact that his question would most likely out him as a decoy partner. “Are you familiar with anyone from this party?” he asked. His hand was still clasped around hers, lovingly, thumb stroking her skin.

“Yeah, my friend, I think you might know them since I saw you talking to them earlier,”

He looked at her with sweet admiration, wanting to hear her voice more often since it sounded like music to his ears. “Go on,” he encouraged.

She continued to talk about how she met her friend, rambling about childhood stories, as well as their shared memories of college years and early adult life, including the silly mishaps in hopes of making him laugh.

And it did, his laugh seemed to be the only sound she wanted to hear from now on, full and hearty, beyond genuine if she could describe it right. The way his eyes crinkled at the corner, cheeks flushed and pink, it made her feel warmer than the fire next to her.

Everything came naturally to the both of them, the easy, smooth talking, the lighthearted laughs and smiles, every nickname that cupid could come up with rolling off of their tongues.

Footsteps could be heard behind the both of them, the dirt and gravel being scruffed up.

“So is this your little boyfriend, sweets?”

Her stomach churned uncomfortably, recognizing that awful voice from earlier in the day.

Trent turned around with a slight smirk, standing up to face the other guy. He was visibly taller than him, who was now cowering slightly.

“Yeah, I’m her boyfriend.” He stuck out his hand, firm and confident. “Do we have a problem with that?” His brow was raised, tone interrogative and questioning.

The stranger took a step away, shaking his head. “No, I’ll leave you guys be—” His voice wavered as he took off in another direction, presumably to head home and away from the humiliation that he just had to put himself through.

Trent sat back down beside her, allowing her to lean closer to him. “Is that why you asked me?” he whispered.

Nodding her head, she remained silent for a little bit, allowing for her thoughts to accept the fact that it was over now, and that he didn’t have to act as her significant other any longer.

Moving away from him slightly, she could see his tender expression falter. “You don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore, Trent.” She matched his quiet tone, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation between them.

His lips were pressed together in a line, unsure of what to do or say next. He looked in her eyes, seeing a twinge of sadness—or maybe tiredness, he couldn’t tell—float around.

“But, what if I want to be yours, truly this time?”

She looked at him, confused, but wanting to not step too far. “Trent, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Only if you do as well.” Trent’s expression was genuine, pure, the nighttime sky and stars hoping to emphasize the way he felt. “I just think you’re a sweet and kind person, and from the time that I’ve gotten to know you, I know that I want to know more about you,”

A smile eased its way onto her face, paired with a blush from his honeyed words that truly felt like it was poured straight from his heart. “I think you’re lovely,” her voice was hardly above a whisper, but he heard it all, and almost melted on the spot.

“You think so?”

Nodding her head, she took his hand and held it, looking up at him once more.

He looked magical, enchanting, so sweet, so beautiful in the moment. Her heart seemed to slow, or speed up, but she didn’t feel real, lost somewhere in a dream-like state. They both remained in this moment, the seconds passing by in a blur, an exchange of numbers, something about wanting to co-exist more, feel more.

They both stood in the driveway of the house, moments before parting ways. He didn’t let go of her hand just yet, still wanting to feel her touch. “Brunch, tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, love,”

Her fingers slipped from his as she waved, walking away with her friends who were already gushing over any details they could get, laughter of the sweet night echoing in the sky.

Part Two

[fandxmslxt69]

Cute Library Boys

Steven Grant x f!Reader

Warnings: Steven being too goddamn cute and fluff!! Some swearing, absolutely tooth rotting dorky-ness.

A/N: Oh my god this has been sitting in drafts for so long but I finally finished editing ahahah. Idk how I feel about it ngl, its cute and has me giggling but !!!! idk. Anyway this IS inspired by a prompt: "Going for the same book at the library" taken from @creativepromptsforwriting (Mona sent me a prompt list literally like 2 months ago thank you @whatthefishh you are too cute for this world.) ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY this is a peace offering before I pour my heart out into the most gut wrenching angst and coochie killing smut <3

-Clem

Synopsis: All you wanted was to have a quiet day browsing books in the library. Who knew you'd manage to find the cutest man to spend your day with right there in the history aisle?

Word count: 3541 (omg.)

Walking through the library, you gently ran your finger over the spines of the book, feeling worn out paper and leather on your fingertips. It was always relaxing, being surrounded by so many stories, real or not, lives and adventures. You skimmed through a history section, looking for a book that might be of interest, and your eyes landed on one just up ahead, with a pretty spine and a title written in gold. Your fingers jumped to it, but bumped with another hand outstretched to grab it.  “Oh sorry, love! Didn’t see you there,”  “Oh no it’s alright!” You grinned up to the cute man with the cute British accent. “You can have the book, I don’t mind,” “Oh no,” He shook his head.  “Really, you can take it,”  “No it’s fine, really, I can just order another from the system,” He grabbed the book off the shelf, handing it to you. “Love, please. I’ve already read it anyway. It’s all yours,” He smiled, a bright breathtaking smile that lit up his whole face.  You hesitated but took the book from his hand, adding it to the (very heavy) bag you carried. “Memorised and all?” He chuckled. “I wish,”  You grinned at him, and an awkward silence fell as you scanned the rest of the shelf. “Uh,” You cleared your throat. “Anyway. Thank you, a lot, for-” “The book,” He finished. “Yes! The book. Thank you,”  He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing.  “Alright well uh…I’ll, go, thank you, again,” You rushed to say before quickly dashing off, trying not to think about how pretty he was, or how soft his eyes looked, or his beautiful curls, his soft yet clear features…

No. 

You weren’t sure what the hell urged you to turn right back around and down the aisle again, but your feet carried you there anyway, and you found yourself standing right in front of the gorgeous stranger again. “Um. Hi.” You mumbled. Maybe he didn’t hear, maybe you could run be- “Hi! You’re back,” He grinned and you could feel the sunshine radiating off of him.  “Yeah. Um..I don’t know I just…yknow…You seem to know your books,” You gestured to the growing pile by his feet. “So I was just..wondering if you had any recommendations? I’m in a bit of a slump, so I wanted to try something new. I mean only if you’re cool with it, if I’m bothering you I’ll just go-”  He laughed, a quiet small chuckle that put a huge ass sappy smile on your face. It was contagious, his bubbly energy and cute laughs and smiles. “No it’s alright love, I’d be more than happy to give you a few suggestions, though it might just turn out to be a big ramble,” You shrugged. “Nothing beats a good book ramble,” “Wholeheartedly agree. Now,” He turned to the shelves, his soft eyes scanning the spines of the dozens of books, and he just started rambling- exactly like he said he would. On and on and on, grabbing a few books at a time and talking about them all at once, he looked over the moon to share all this knowledge with someone, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you could barely keep up with him. You just stood there watching him, probably grinning like an idiot, adding every book he put down to the growing pile in your bag. Whether the book was actually interesting or not, you didn’t care. When a cute man excitedly tells you about his favourite books in an aisle in the library, you grab every damn one of those books and you take them home. 

By the time he finished going through at least a dozen books, he paused, biting his lower lip to hide a shy smile. “Sorry. Got carried away there,” 

Ah shit.

“No no! It’s okay, no apology needed at all. You- it’s cute. You’re cute. When…you do the ramble thing. Cute. Yeah.” You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up.  There was a beat of silence, before he blurted out, “Steven.” “Sorry?”  “Steven���my name. Is Steven. Grant. Steven Grant. It kind of just hit me that I didn’t introduce myself,”  “Oh. Oh! Oh right. Oh my god.” You fumbled with your bag, trying to get yourself back in control. “This is embarrassing. I’m so sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you Steven,” He laughed again. “It’s very nice to meet you too,”  You nodded. How many times are you going to nod. Quit it.  “So…um,” you cleared your throat, wondering if it was too late to ask for a hole to open up and swallow you whole. “Yknow..there’s um…this cafe, right down the street, and it’s really nice and they’ve got pretty decent coffee and food. I was wondering if…you know, if you’re free anyway, and not too busy or if you have something better to do I totally get it-” “I’d very much like to go to the cafe down the street with you,” Steven interrupted, and you stared at him, jaw hanging open slightly as you took in his shy smile and the light rose of his cheeks.  “I mean, if that’s what you’re asking-” He rambled quickly to add. “Yes! Ah, uh, yes, that is what I’m asking,” You grinned widely, cheeks starting to hurt from how damn much you were smiling at this cute stranger in the history aisle of your local library.  “Great! Wonderful, amazing. I- uh…I’ll…go check out my books? Get settled while you do yours and…” “...we can meet by the front doors?” You finished for him. He nodded quickly, his hair bouncing with each bob of his head. You nodded too, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “Okay. Okay cool. I’ll…go do my thing. And I’ll see you soon?” “Yes, absolutely, 100% yeah,”  You chuckled, a few butterflies taking flight through your stomach with all his nervous blabbering.

He’s cute. Real cute, with the nicest warm eyes and a precious crooked smile, and the cutest mop of curls on his head that you desperately wanted to play with. Not to mention his adorable outfit..the cute earth brown pants and the soft sweater that definitely hugged his body in a comfy yet pleasing way. 

Screwed. Absolutely, royally screwed. 

After awkwardly staring (analysing) him for a solid minute as he grabbed the rest of his books, you turned and dashed to the check out desks, fumbling and mumbling about stupid cute library boys the entire way through the checkout process. 

*                                           *                                          *

As you both left the library, a light silence falling between you, he couldn’t help but take a few glances at you, his heart picking up pace, a giddy laugh building up in his throat- this was new. All of it was so new yet welcomed. He’d be damned if he let it go to waste, whether it be a chance to make a friend, or maybe a little more. 

By the time you had reached the shop, his shoulder ached from carrying his bag of books, and you looked ready to drop dead on your feet. 

“I can carry your bag if it’s getting you tired,” Steven suggested softly as you entered the cafe. You frowned, hugging your bag tightly to you. “What, no. It’s okay, I like carrying my bag. Makes me feel close to my books,” You pointed to a table by the window. “Here?” He laughed, then nodded. “Yeah this works,” He took a seat, lifting his bag off of him and placing down beside him. “What do you like to read anyway?” “Oooh,” You slid into the seat, you could feel the ache in your lower back start to build. Who even had back problems at this age. “I like a good fantasy novel, and I am guilty of reading way too much romance. I also like poetry. Not a very big person in non fiction though.” “Romance huh?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips. “Scandalous romance?” You laughed, shrugging. “What, a woman has her needs, and those needs happen to be pretty men with cute accents,”  “Ah right,” He nodded again, then paused. “Wait. I have an accent,” You chuckled, smiling widely. “Yes you do. A cute one too. And you’re cute. Pretty, dare I say,” His eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck and his ears started turning red too as he looked away, averting his eyes and biting at his lower lip. Your heart did a little flip at how cute he looked when he was flustered.  “What kinda books do you like, Mr. Grant?”  “Hmm,” He flipped aimlessly through the menu, his eyes scanning the millions of different ways they make frappuccinos and espressos. He didn’t even drink coffee that much, he was more of a tea guy. “I like history, big fan of mythologies and stuff,”  You sat up, grinning widely. “I love mythology. I was a huge sucker for them in middle school. Still kinda am, honestly,” His heart did a little thing. “Really? What kind of mythology?” You shrugged. “I was really into the Greeks, they were pretty fun and it was a good time. I like the Romans a bit too, but they’re a little boring, yknow? The Norse are wack too, which makes it funny,” You grinned. “I was just a bit obsessed. I had an Egypt phase too for quite a bit,”  You could see the way his face lit up, how his eyes widened and a big smile started spreading across his face. “Egypt huh? That’s cool.” He nodded, deciding not to make a further comment lest it come off as too strong. You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Oh come on, you totally had an Egypt phase,” “Did not!” “You so did. C’mon, tell me. I promise I won’t judge! I never could, I had attachments to those guys. You definitely know a thing or two,” He waved you off. “No..I mean, a little maybe. I’ve studied their mythologies and tales, aspects of culture and society, that’s sorta stuff, it’s not interesting really,” “Not interesting?” You scoffed. “Well I find them interesting. C’monnnn,” You nudged his leg under the table. “Who’s your favourite god?” He shook his head, a playful smile on his face. “I’m fond of Taweret. Hippo goddess, resides in the underworld and stuff. She’s nice,”  “Yeah? Know her personally?” “Oh yeah, obviously. We have chat over tea all the time,”  No way he was this funny. “Really? Wait, hang on,” You leaned in, “if she resides in the underworld, does that mean you’ve died before, Steven Grant?”

He liked it, he decided. The way you said his name, how it rolled off your tongue and out of your mouth so easily, and not the sarcastic way everyone else said it. Heaven, at least you remembered his name, not when half the staff at the old museum couldn’t even get Steven right.  He scrunched up his face, thinking deeply. “Hmm. Let’s see. I think I might have, yeah. A few times now actually,” There it was again, the laugh that filled the entire cafe, as your shoulders shook and you threw your head back in joy. “No way, you did not,” You finally said.  “I absolutely did! It’s not a good experience obviously, but yknow, an adventure,”  “So you’ve like- met Osiris and stuff?” He shrugged. “Maybe,” “Oh come on. Tell me! I’ve always liked him. Given, I always like every death god, so it’s no different,” “He’s alright. Very stiff though, no personality at all, he’s all business serious,” “Well duh, he’s a king,” Steven rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean he’s got to be so boring,”  You chuckled again, shaking your head in disbelief as you went back to the menu. “Any other gods you’ve met?” “Hmm.” He tapped his chin a few times, and brushed a curl of hair out of his eye. “I’ve met some night gods. They look like big ugly birds, with a big temper and zero compassion or kindness. Dress in old rags and stuff,”  “You’re lying, I swear you’re lying,” “I am not! It’s true. I see one quite often actually, he’s a pain in the ass, right psycho.”  “Yeah? He your best friend?” He snorted. “Absolutely not.”  You tsked. “Aw, that’s so sad,” “No it’s not. I told you, he’s not right in his mind,”  “Yeah but isn’t that all gods?” Steven sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Okay, you make an excellent point, but I’m telling you, this one is bloody psycho. Murderous and whatnot.” He smiled, a big goofy smile that showed his cute dimples.  You shook your head again, trying to fight back a stupid sappy grin. “You’re too funny,” “Too funny? Is that bad?” He frowned. “No! No, absolutely not. It’s nice, your jokes are actual..well, yknow, jokes. And it’s kind of nerdy.” “Oi!” He leaned in, pointing a finger at you with an air of amusement. “You just said nerdy was cute,” “It is!! It’s very cute!”  “Bloody right. ‘Cause if you came for sports jokes, I’m not your guy,” You laughed. “Nope, no sports jokes for me. I just like an extra side of nerdiness,”  He narrowed his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You are horrible,”  “Horribly cute, yeah, definitely,” He exploded with laughter, his face all happy smile lines and precious dimples. You smiled widely, your heart doing a little skip with how gorgeous he looks, so full of laughter. 

Thankfully though, before he caught you grinning like an idiot at him and trying to memorise his face, a waiter came to your table, and you managed to order your drinks without acting crazy or too dorky. 

*                                                         *                                                                *

“What about Bastet? You know her?” 

Okay so maybe you were still a little dorky. 

“The cat lady? I mean you see her everywhere don’t you? In all the nice cat ladies by your flat or in the market!” “Okay fine Mr. Poetic, I’m asking about the goddess,” 

He grinned, fiddling with the strap of his bag as you both made your way to a bus stop. “I haven’t met her, no. But I know of her,” 

“Right, of course,” You weren’t sure why you humoured this idea; the possibility of divinity walking amongst man. But the ease of pretending, of imagining with him, with Steven, was something you came to realise you enjoyed too much to give up.  “What about Zeus?” He frowned. “Wrong civilization,”  “Oh come on, so you’re telling me you can believe the idea of gods with bird heads from the times of pyramids, but you can’t humour me with the idea of wackoo’s living on top of a mountain?”  “I just don’t like them. Too chaotic,”  “That’s exactly why everyone likes them,”  “Okay fine, I just stay in my territory,” You shook your head, shrugging your bag back into place on your shoulder. “Okay, that’s fair, they probably don’t like each other anyway,”  “Nope, definitely don’t,” 

You both fell into a silence after, continuing your walk to the bus stop. “You don’t have to go all the way with me to the bus stop yknow-” You started but he just shook his head.  “I don’t mind, love. Really, it’s a nice day out for a walk,”  You nodded. “Okay.”

Silence fell again, and you couldn’t help but look up a little to look at him. Him with his pretty eyes and flushed cheeks. Him with his easy going smile on those nice lips. Him with the nice jawline and cheekbones that are just the right amount of sharp you just want to run your finger over it. 

By the time the both of you had made it to the bus station, you had made up your mind; You were going to ask him for his number. 

Only problem is…how do you ask a cute guy for his number?

You could feel the nerves start to set in as the minutes tick by, and more people pile around the bus stop. It was going to be here soon, and you’ll hop on, and probably never get his number and-

Okay calm down. You fiddled with your bag as the minutes passed, occasional small glances and nervous chuckles with Steven as he waited too, and it felt like the weight of the world was on your shoulders just to ask for a series of stupid numerals.  When you glanced back up at Steven for what had to be the millionth time so far, you noticed in the far distance that the bus was heading this way. Steven turns the other way then too, noticing you staring and he sighed softly. “Ah, there’s your bus,”  “Yup,” He looked back at you, a soft smile on his lips. He picked at his nails, a feeling of anxiety bubbling inside of him. “So…” “So…” You continued for him, and you both laughed awkwardly.  “Can I-” “Can-” You stopped, chuckling awkwardly as Steven shook his head.  “Sorry love- didn’t mean to speak over you-” “No no it’s okay! My bad,” You reassured him. “Go ahead,”  “No really-” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. “You start,” “Steven-” You started to protest (why were you even doing that) but he set you with a firm look and you sighed. “Okay. I was…yknow…going to ask. If-” You trailed off. “Yknow…” “If…? Unfortunately love, I’m very bad at guessing games. You’ll have to specify,” You sighed, rubbing a hand down my face. You took a deep breath and right as the bus stopped at your station, you blurted quickly, “Can I have your number?!” It came out in one breath, a quick sentence and Steven’s browns furrowed. You panicked, thinking maybe you had read this wrong? What if he doesn’t want to give you his number? 

But then his face exploded in a wide smile, and his eyes lit up adorably and his cheeks filled with a soft blush. “Oh. My number!” He laughed, soft and clearly full of anxiety. “Yes- right yes, of course you can. Sorry it took a minute there-” He muttered, quickly digging through his bag and pulling out his phone. “Right then, quick quick before you miss your bus-” 

“It’s okay,” You mumbled quickly, steering him away from the growing bus line so you could plug in his number. You did it painfully slowly, double checking each number and going over the series at least 5 times. By the time you finished exaggerating and actually putting the number into your contacts, Steven was tapping his foot anxiously on the ground as he watched the last person board the bus.  “You have to hurry it’s going to close, love,” You looked up and glanced at the bus. “Oh crap-” You quickly fumbled to put your phone away and return his, but by the time you took a step towards the bus, it dinged and the door closed as it slowly started back up to drive away.  "Shit,” Steven tugged at his curls. “Oh god love, I’m really sorry- maybe if we run we could catch its next stop?” Didn’t people always say make the best out of a bad situation? The bus is gone, another won’t be coming for probably another half hour, and you were not running. 

But maybe…maybe this was a good thing? 

You shrugged, trying to sound as upset as you could possibly gather, but even to your own ears it sounded fake. “Oh no….the bus is gone. This is horrible. What do I do now?”  Steven started to say something, but then stopped, frowning a little, before his eyes widened and a smile grew across his face. “Hang on-” He stepped closer to you, his eyes glittered with humour. “You planned that, didn't you?” You gasped. “What? Me? Why would I ever want to miss my bus?”  “Hmm….” He tapped a finger to his chin, thinking loudly. He leaned down then his face barely inches away from your face. “Maybe because you wanted to spend more time with me?” He has no right being cute and nervous one second and then sexy  and all mischief the next.  Your eyes widened, you felt your skin heat and your cheeks flush pink with how close he was. His eyes looked even prettier up close, and his lips looked so kissable.  “Really?” You managed to breathe out. “You think I’m that captivated by you?” He shrugged. “Maybe.” He paused, biting his lower lip. 

Fuck. 

“Are you? Captivated by me?” He asked.  “Hmm. Let’s see…I think your nerdiness and awkward attitude and shy personality has definitely captivated me, Mr. Grant,”  His face explodes into a bright and beautiful smile. “Really? So if I asked to go on a walk right now, you’d say yes?” I hum, pretending to think it over. “I think…yes, I would absolutely say yes,” The look on his face made it seem as if he just experienced heaven. Your heart fluttered, and you knew then that you’d never ever get tired of seeing him this happy. “Brilliant. Great, alright then um..” He stood up straight again, looking around. “Let’s go?” 

You smiled, gesturing to the roads bustling with people. “Lead the way,” 

[sabrinawitcher]

Family Bonding and other random ideas....

Wanda never takes photos often, but when she does, she likes them to be taken seriously.

Cosmo always asks Timmy first before taking photos, knowing how shy Timmy gets whenever caught in a vulnerable state.

Peri hates photos, but it takes them knowing that Timmy doesn't like taking them alone.

Timmy absolutely hates photos. He hates them to a high degree. He rarely takes them unless absolutely necessary due to how 'camera-shy' he is.

Tootie is the younger sister of the rude babysitter Vicky, unlike her jerk of a counterpart to her sister, Tootie is a geeky, annoying and generally a good-natured 23 year girl who is secretly in love with Timmy who likes to follow him around for the future of romantic relationship. She is a huge nerd and loves comics, anime, and writing cringey fanfics. She is definitely a girl who had an emo phase and has total pick me energy. Tootie is a 'nerd' in Timmy's eyes, and he kinda hates how creepy she is. He doesn't mind her that much, and they get along fairly well. Timmy is younger than his entire friend group, unfortunately, and is unfortunately, the shortest too.

Chester McBadbat is one of Timmy's circle of friends along with A.J. and Elmer as they all attend at Dimmsdale Academia with him. Though Chester is depicted too be poor in the show. I like thinking his father can handle himself nicely. Chester works at his father's convenience store and works off minimum wage. Chester is dorky, naïve, and can be overlooked compared to the others. (Both A.J. and Chester were forced friends, meaning that Cosmo and Wanda bribed them to be friends with Timmy via human disguise)

Elmer and Sanjay are two of Timmy's friends that unfortunately moved away. Timmy hasn't handled it well at first, but he was forced to learn to accept it. His godparents assured him he'd find some to replace them, but so far, no luck. Their isn't much known about them, according to Timmy, since Timmy has only been on Earth for so long and is adjusting to customs of friends. (Elmer and Sanjay were the only two friends Timmy actually worked for).

A.J. is one of Timmy's circle of friends along with Chester and Elmer as they all attend at Dimmsdale Academia with him and he is the brains of all Timmy's friends. A.J. can be a know-it-all and can act like a hotshot. He was first reluctant to the bribery, but when Cosmo flattered his ego.... He was quick to accept. A.J. can be overwhelming to many, but not Tinmy. Timmy loves hanging out with his two only friends yet feels pressured due to never living on Earth before and forced to keep up with trends.

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Hello Ghost! First of all, I just want to say I fell in love with your writing and use of words (they’re simple but they carry a strange energy -in a positive way- with them)

Second of all, can I request what would be like to be in a platonic relationship with King Dice and Devil would be?

A/N: Ahh this compliment means a lot!!! 

I tend to fret over how to phrase certain things. It feels really reassuring to hear that about my work! Please do forgive me for taking so long to get to your request, and please do not be afraid to reach out to me to make any adjustments!!

A side note: I wasn’t quite sure which portrayal of the characters you would’ve preferred, so I did my best to borrow traits from both the game and the show!

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Platonic! King Dice Relationship Hcs:

Oh, boy. Between his job as Inkwell Hell Casino’s manager, The Devil’s right hand man, and media darling, a day off for King Dice is as rare as a blue moon. Both of your schedules hardly ever align, leaving you to not hear much from the man until maybe about a week or even months. 

And yet, the minute the two of you do find the time, it’s as if only a day has passed by. Thanks to years of maintaining and polishing his public appearance, King Dice is able to pick up where you both last left off with ease. He’ll gladly recount any gossip or this month’s paramour– going into every scandalous detail and relishing your raucous laughter as he goes on about some poor schmuck that tried to roll his dice, if you could catch his meaning. 

Granted, if you’re the less talkative type, it’ll throw him for a loop in the first stages of your friendship. He’s so used to coworkers, reporters, and adoring fans clamoring to speak to him– desperate to know him that he’s forgotten what silence was like. Of course, once he’s past that stage and grown comfortable, it turns out King Dice could happily speak for the both of you. So much so that there are times you think the man just loves the sound of his own voice. 

He does, but that’s besides the point. 

Time spent together is usually over the phone.  With the aforementioned work schedule and a paparazzi that’s so eager to stir the pot if Dice so much as breathes, he’ll usually cold call you while he’s poring over paperwork– eager for someone normal to talk to lest he go mad. 

The conversation doesn’t end when he’s done with work, either. He’s most certainly the type of person to walk about his office, phone in hand and the earpiece tucked against his shoulder while he idly walks around. 

Being famous has its perks. King Dice would use his popularity and status to share some of the high life with you. Oh, he’s gotten a gift from some overpriced luxury brand or a pompous admirer? Babes, you could probably use it more than he can– sell it, keep it, he doesn’t mind either way. You want the chance to try out the food from the new exclusive restaurant in town? Get your things, he could make a reservation for dinner for the two of you in thirty minutes.

While the allure of the glitz and glam of fame is what he’s used to, King Dice can’t help but feel oddly sentimental over the small gifts or gestures you send his way. You once won a little teddy bear with a purple tie from the carnival, and when you proudly presented your gifted trophy, he’ll huff and roll his eyes; his chalk-white face steadily growing pinker by the second while his lips wobble between a frown and dorky little smile. He’s too old for that!

He’s a liar. He loves it. Dice has a little shelf where Bear Dice lives on. Any imp that touches it will immediately get a fancy dress shoe rammed into their ugly mug. 

Listen, he’s a lovely friend to have, but he’s brutally honest. Even when it’s inappropriate to do so. Dice values the truth and expects you to be as honest with him. 

“Doll. I respect you, but you dress like a middle-aged lawyer going through her third divorce.”

┕━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┙

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Platonic! Devil Relationship Hcs:

Truth be told, the fact that you’re still alive and not some soulless husk is proof enough that The Devil likes you. You’re one of the few souls unafraid of him and one of the even fewer that don’t annoy him. 

Can and will appear in your home unannounced. There are countless times where you’ve woken up in the dead of night to loud crashes in your kitchen, where you’ll find the demon raiding your fridge (you’re out of milk, by the way). Or during the times when you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep, chest tight and lungs fit to burst. You slowly open your eyes– 

Only to be met with the distorted face of the Devil. Eyes wide, hollow, and pupils blown out as he stands over you in bed.

You now made it mandatory for him to announce when he’ll be coming over. Bastard still keeps it ominous as possible by only leaving notes as warnings. 

The Devil hates it when people try to touch him yet he has no qualms invading your personal space. He’s used his height to intimidate people for so long that it just becomes second nature to lean over you or stand uncomfortably close. 

Speaking of said height, he’s a complete shithead about it, too. If the Devil feels like you’ve talked enough, he’ll just take his hand and envelop your entire face. Bite him and he’ll curse you out. 

Vulnerability is a weakness that others can take advantage of in Hell. Though the demon does enjoy your presence, he can’t find it in himself to let himself be sappy or sentimental. Any sweet gestures are almost always followed by some insult to mask his true emotions.

Think that one incorrect quote meme/textpost from a while ago: “I missed you. I thought your lil’ ugly ass went and joined the soul circus.” 

The Devil can’t help but feel frustrated with himself for feeling his traitorous heart flutter whenever you casually refer to him as your friend. He’s got all the power in the world and is free to do what he wishes with it, but it could get lonely at the top. 

All too eager to offer to kill anyone that even slightly inconveniences you. You may snort and try to laugh it off, but the blank stare that he gives you in return can’t help but unnerve you. He’s not joking. 

He’s an enabler at heart and will encourage you to be irresponsible, consequences be damned. If anything, you’re probably going to have to be the mom friend here.

┕━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┙

[trinkerichi]

What is your oppion on ribbun?

OOOH that's Jax/Gangle right? Oh boy you probably aren't asking for this but I feel like doing a big ramble and this is gonna be a long one. CHARACTER ANALYSIS INCOMING!

I'll preface this by saying I don't usually get too invested in shipping. I really like drawing interesting character dynamics tho, so I'll play around with the ships I see without really sticking to one. It's why I tend to draw a LOT of different ships only a few times each.

I'll ALSO preface by saying I really uh. Don't like Jax very much lmao I'm sorry. I'm not opposed to jerk characters in general, but I just didn't think any of his lines were funny. BUT I think that comes down to the fact that we only have a pilot and haven't seen much of their personalities yet. My favorite jerk characters, (Osomatsu, Bender, etc) all balance out their jerkiness by being dorky insecure losers that almost never win in the end so you kinda feel bad for them. I think if Jax ends up being written that way I'll become endeared to him. And goose has revealed before that none of the others actually like Jax so I kinda want to see that.

On the other hand, Gangle is my favorite character. She has barely 2 minutes of screen time but I love her concept so much. A friend called me out for this recently lol but all my BIG FAVS are characters that are themed around strong divided emotions. Pretending they're happy even when they're not, and having a hard time controlling their emotions as a result. (The latest ENA episode was a great example of this. Anyway.) Gangle being a sensitive flimsy pile of ribbons with a literal mask for a face? The fact that the tragedy mask seems to be her REAL face, while the comedy mask is so fragile that breaks if you so much as breathe on it too hard? I find that COMPELLING I want to see a whole series about her honestly.

Pairing her with Jax was inevitable, as is any fandom ship where the characters hate each other in canon. I usually hate this kind of pairing but this time I found it kinda fascinating! I think it's cause we don't really know a whole lot about either one of them so there's a lot of room to explore their characters through it.

I really do feel like Jax could hold a specific resentment towards Gangle. He's obviously not handling being stuck in the circus well, and he's bullying easy targets. He plays dirty. A person with high self esteem doesn't do that. Maybe he takes it out on Gangle because he hates how open she is about her feelings. He's putting on a tough and uncaring front, trying to pretend nothing bothers him, and she's out here being sensitive and fragile? How dare she! He's pushing her to her limits and she still won't harden herself. She doesn't have the energy to! Maybe she feels like she doesn't deserve to defend herself. It's so unhealthy! It's horrible!... And uh, sometimes horrible things are fun to write! DON'T JUDGE ME.

(And just so nobody accuses me of being insensitive here, without revealing too much, I've been in Gangle's place before. That's all I'll say.)

So with relationship stuff oh boy. We can take all those toxic traits to their extremes. But who would be the instigator?

What if Gangle coped with Jax's bullying by becoming more clingy. Becoming used to it.. Seeking him out. After all, he's paying attention to her right? Her warped self image being depressed and isolated in this circus for years would drive her to wanting any kind of stimulation.. does she realize this is self harm? What's it going to take for someone to step in before it goes too far?

Or on the other hand, what if Jax's fixation on bullying Gangle got mixed up in some more complex feelings.. If he really wanted to, I can see him manipulating her into a relationship just to see how many boundaries he can cross. He could have her wrapped around his little finger. Literally. He DOES have some misplaced affection for her deep down. He won't let himself think about it long enough to understand it, he's acting on impulse. She's uncomfortable but thankful for the seemingly lessened cruelty, so she puts up with it. And sometimes, rarely, between the thinly veiled insults disguised as compliments, he says something truly genuine and vulnerable. She can see it. He needs help. He needs love. But they're both hurting each other even more. It's wrong, but they're stuck now.

And now.. for the drama. Nobody can be pushed that far before snapping. As is the usual trope with soft spoken pushover characters, Gangle is a ticking time bomb. And I don't think she'd be willing to abstract entirely because of Jax, at least without clawing her way down.

Here's a fun fact. Have you seen that walk cycle video? Jax is tall, sure, but Gangle is PRETTY DARN TALL TOO. and she slouches. With her ribbons stretched to their full length she would tower over everybody. I want to see her get angry and be SCARY. I want her to stand up to Jax and lash out and scream and see him Genuinely Terrified. Everyone else caught in the crossfire too, covered in ribbon slashes. It wouldn't last forever. If the tension doesn't cause her to abstract she'll calm down eventually, or someone will be forced to break her mask to snap her out of the tantrum. Jax would pretend it didn't shake him at all, but would be noticeably quiet afterwards. Kinda shifting uncomfortably, they both avoid eye contact for as long as possible. His teasing towards Gangle never goes beyond slight ribbing again.

Whew.

Ok uh if you read this far, I don't LIKE the ship but it's a great character exercise! Hah I've thought a lot about it clearly. That being said, i usually prefer sweet cuddly ships myself. I think my favorite is Gangle/Pomni. I haven't seen this one around much, but those two are my favorite characters in the show and I'd love to see them interact! I think they could help each other with their anxieties and it'd be really cute. I don't even necessarily need it to be romantic I just think they'd have a sweet little dynamic together.

Surprisingly I've seen Gangle shipped with Zooble the most even though they haven't talked at all either and Zooble has like.. 2 lines. It might be cute but I wanna know more about them first.

As for Gangle n Kinger, I prefer them to have more of a father daughter type dynamic.

[rebeliz7]

AUGUST - DRABBLE #12

12. Natasha

Natasha’s never felt lost before, not in an emotional way. For some reason she’s always kept the upper hand when it comes to her feelings, always collected and always a step ahead. 

No one’s ever seen her cry real tears, well no one beside her sister. She feels foreign now, lost, as if the skin in which she’s inhabiting isn’t her own and it’s unsettling. 

Love is not what she wanted it to be. 

Before Wanda, Natasha’s never been in love before, and maybe she lost the upper hand at the very beginning, she’d never know for sure. 

Wanda came into her life out of nowhere, Natasha wasn’t looking for love and she didn’t fall at first sight either. She fell for Wanda gradually, little by little and when she realized what was happening it was already too late, she was in too deep and she knew there was no going back. 

There’s no way to guess now what was her tipping point, it could have been the late night conversations when Wanda’s voice was everything she could hear. It could have been the dorky sound of her laughter because Natasha couldn't explain how someone so ridiculously gorgeous could laugh so dorkily, so adorably. 

The laugh is what made her real, in a sense, it made her human and the looks started to matter a little less. Wanda was still a goddess but the more Natasha knew her, the looks mattered less.  

Or maybe, maybe it was the long conversations while they both worked that sealed Natasha’s fate completely. Getting to know Wanda in a way that no one else was doing during those long and at the same time short afternoons, made her feel special. 

Now she can’t think of those afternoons without tears escaping her eyes, betraying her and reminding her that none of it was ever real. 

The thought of Wanda is now stuck in the pit of her stomach, where it hurts and hurts, as if the thought alone is chopping away at her insides, destroying her from within, killing her slowly. 

Love, love is not what she wanted it to be. 

She knows what happened in August with you, and she knows what Wanda did and continues to do, and yet she’s still as in love as she was on their wedding day. 

She’s watched Wanda ache for you and do unthinkable things for you, she’s made herself so small in order to continue to have her wife in whatever capacity that she can. 

But she knows, she knows it is wrong and she knows she should let go---just as she knows that she won’t. 

Without the chance to speak her mind, she has no other option but to swallow her feelings, swallow every promise that rests on the tip of her tongue, every declaration that eats her away and will never be heard. 

Days go by and she thinks she’s doing okay, but she’s not eating and she cries herself to sleep, and has no desire to engage in any conversation with anyone that’s not Wanda. 

The world doesn’t seem that interesting anymore, life itself becomes a dark void that she doesn’t know how to navigate, not when Wanda is light--she’s light. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Clint’s voice is almost enough to startle her and he notices. “Something wrong?”

He asks the second question lowly, as if sharing a secret and Natasha appreciates his sense of protectiveness. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” She tells him as she looks around the kitchen, where she was spacing out, apparently. She came for a cup of coffee earlier, to start her day but she’s lost complete sense of time now. 

“You sure? You seem really out of it and not just now, for a couple of days.” He says as he goes about making himself a quick breakfast. 

“I guess I’m just tired.” She says, putting effort in the way she speaks just to try and get him off this interrogating path. 

“Then maybe take a few days off.” He suggests. “Take the wife and escape to that fancy cottage you two have in the woods. That’d be fun.”

He grins, teasing her but Natasha has no energy to meet him halfway and the thought of the cottage makes bile rise up her throat, so she says nothing at all. 

“Wow, no come back. Are you ill?” He deadpans, to which she does respond with a roll of her eyes. 

A thought suddenly hits her, something that she should have thought about before. This is her friend and Natasha is certain that he’d have told her something about you and Wanda---if he remembered. 

“What happened around here during August?” She asks as he munches on some cereal and milk. 

“Not much.” He shrugs but a little frown appears on his forehead at the same time. 

“What do you know, Clint?” She asks with a hint of humor that he doesn’t meet at all. 

“August.” He repeats. “You and the flagboy went on that mission. That’s all I remember from August.”

She’s quick to change the subject, being glad that Clint never lets an opportunity to annoy her pass him by, but the thought doesn’t leave her mind---you’re not the only one who doesn’t remember. 

Maybe, just maybe it’s time to start thinking like an agent again and not just a bleeding soul.

… 

[doubleddenden]

Damn the more I hear about Velma the worst it gets. This saddens me because I've been watching Scooby since before I could talk :(

Mainly what I'm seeing is that someone has contempt for the series + their own ideas for their own incredibly generic show and rather than make something unique, they're just insulting an established series.

My biggest gripes so far:

1. How tf do you got a Scooby Doo show without Scooby Doo? Is he too kiddy for your generic ugly adult cartoon?

2. Shaggy- oh sorry, NORVILLE. Look, I have no problem with the race thing- my literal main issue is that he's called SHAGGY for a reason. How hard is it to give him thick hair? On top of that they make him an actual druggie- let's pretend there's not some subtle racism behind making the perceived 'stoner' of the group black- it's boring. Yes yes we know the gang is a bunch of stoners, but isn't it funnier when it's just IMPLIED? Isn't it funnier that a man just REALLY FUCKING LOVES DOG TREATS and is willing to risk his life on a regular basis for god damn DOG TREATS? Instead they just turn him into yet another Seth Rogan tier predictable disappointment

3. The overall mischaracterization from what I'm seeing just... sucks, and again, I think part of that comes from a contempt for the series. You don't have to make the characters assholes to make them likeable! I know Rick and Morty and Seth McFarland have poisoned the well for a lot of people but you really don't!

Across the franchise there's plenty of fun ways to interpret the characters:

Fred: himbo that loves his friends, dad friend barely holding it together, obsessed with traps- take your pick, none of these are spoiled boring asshole rich kid.

Daphne: if you're opposed to damsel in distress, how about the cool martial artist fashionista made prevalent in the What's New Scooby Doo series or the live action movies? What about being a good reporter? Hell, even her goofy dorky self in Be Cool Scooby Doo is better than the stereotypical snooty popular girl. Props at least for keeping the red hair.

"Norville" is not a self friend zoning beta male and he's not really obsessed with drugs. Literally the man across DECADES of this franchise is ridiculously talented. Ventriloquism, improv acting, gymnast and athlete- seriously, why do you think they have him and the dog constantly running away from monsters and leading them into traps? The man was literally so good at that that he became a COACH. for MONSTERS. Let's also not forget that he was a race car driver! And had a hot girlfriend! In fact, fuck this friend zoned beta male shit- Shaggy literally pulls more girls (and men I think) in the entire franchise than the others COMBINED. If anything he should have dense harem protagonist energy. I'm talking more than Velma, dude also pulled her LITTLE SISTER- and she was okay with it because she knows he's a good guy(mind the AUs)! Pulled a girl that was kinda a monster fucker for him specifically when he was a werewolf, an actual fucking alien, several foreign girls of various nationalities, several average girls, a crazy but hot redneck girl that tried to SCHWOOSCH his bones after seeing the red shirt ONCE, pretty sure he did something good for Daphne to hang out with him for so long with just a bunch of dogs and a random kid they picked up, very sure actual monsters fell for him- and he's a nerd! He and his beloved best friend the talking dog are massive nerds! I reckon people still latch onto that and think he's the stereotypical nerd but no, no, Shaggy has so much going for him! Not to mention- not to mention! Animal lover! Doy! How do you miss that? He's always paired with the animals! The man is a collective family friend of the entire Doo clan! Every time there's a guest appearance with a non human entity, he's hanging out with them!

Velma... alright look. I'm about to say something real controversial. Real controversial. You ready? She is kinda boring and bland. She's smart and a good investigator, but really? This is who you base the show on? Recently she was allowed to be bisexual- that's great! She's well read, well informed, and if you want to skip the bitchy "its me or the dog" persona from Mystery Inc or the snooty geek from Be Cool, you could fall back to the quiet but cute and thoughtful personality she had in A Pup Named Scooby Doo. If not, she's just boring. I feel like most of the hype for her comes from memes or the people that think they're unique for finding her more attractive than Daphne (you're not btw). Like what does she do that the others cannot do? I'm pretty sure Daphne can do her job but without the min max on intelligence and some points in kicking ass. In fact, why are Fred and Daphne the assholes when Velma in TWO separate series has been the judgey bitch and overall asshole? If anything she should would fit the perfect "beta incel self perceived victim that's actually just a massive douche" trope!

And Scooby. First off fuck the writers for not including my boi. Second, you really couldn't make an adult comedy of a talking dog? If Scooby said fuck- scuze me, 'ruck'- I'd cry laughing! If Scooby was the druggie and Shaggy was normal, that'd be hilarious! Literally if they took every negative trait they forced onto the others and put it onto Scooby, you'd literally have a prime adult cartoon character right there. He's a gag character! Utilize it! I know in the recent series he's been pushed to the side for the others, but he's literally a comedic gold mine waiting to happen! Make him an arsonist! Make him have questionable opinions! It'd be hilarious because he's a literal dog that can't speak understandably half the time!

Look, if you want to make an "adult scooby doo" then I guess I can't stop you. Velma ain't how you do it though.

Btw before anyone jumps on me to defend the new show, the creator of the series supports JKR soooo

[dracofeathers]

Good Omens AU?

Are there any Good Omens AUs out there wherein Crowley never falls, and he and Aziraphale become friends and eventually bond over learning about humans? Though Crowley (or w/e his name was when he was an angel) would start learning much later because he'd be very sheltered/innocent/naive and has never been to earth, due to his work and keep up of the stars (he still loves it). He'd start getting curious though the more he talks with Azi. Not sure if I'd do the 'Crowley was Raphael' route yet or make a new identity for him. I just want more of his high energy, dorky, passionate, happy, adorable puppy dog angel self lol.

Because my brain has been suddenly thinking up all these precious, funny little ideas and scenes for such a thing...but I also don't want to potentially step on any toes if some already exist. There are SO MANY AUs out there, I'm sure. I don't have the time to go looking for them all in detail either.

Whats odd is I don't usually go for AU stories/universes for some reason, unless with my own OCs. Usually I tend to stick to canon and prefer that for official series, movies etc that I get into. Nothing against AUs of course, and I don't know why I just don't connect with them much, but THIS little idea sparked something for some reason and now it's planted itself deep in my already GOs infected brain and will not let go lmao.

So, if such a thing, or various things exist, I guess can someone link me?

If its not exactly like my own idea(s), would someone want to help me brainstorm it more? I'd love to expand on it with someone if its piqued anyone's interest.

[variablejabberwocky]

started watching delicious in dungeon/dungeon meishi (sp?). or as i like to call it

~*AUTISM COOKING DUNGEON*~

dear god y'all have undersold this to me. and like i get it. spoilers and all that. but holy shit

our boy isn't like... "tee-hee little-bit of autistic, just a smidge" like you were all making me think. no no. no, this guy is DEEPLY autistic. we're talking "normally we only give THIS much autism to aliens and robots" kind of autism. the "i need an allistic translator for my social fubars" autism (rip your sister dude). the "i learned a thing! so now im not gonna shut up about it for at least an hour" autism.

and they gave this to THE ONE SINGULAR HUMAN IN THE PARTY. this guy is a HUMAN FIGHTER/KNIGHT-type that is like the MOST BORING/NORMIE shit in a d&d style setting. that is "why are you even playing a fantasy game?" level of normie shit.

and THAT is who gets to be The Party Freak(tm)

i love it. completely unironically/unsarcasticly i love it. they took the "that much autism isn't human anymore" bullshit thats so prolific its basically a trope and went NOPE FUCK THAT NOISE

what i find unforgivable though is that none of you mentioned he's a Kronk too.

boy sounds SO SO STUPID but is so so smart when you actually listen to what the fuck he's on about now (and think on why he's on about it right then). he's a big tank (literally in the fantasy class sense) that just wants to help everyone and do his little special interest shit on the side. and it is on the side because the other two seem like they had no idea it was more than trivia until he didn't have to help micromanage a massive party. like this shit has clearly been on repeat in his brain in the background for A WHILE but he was so busy helping/keeping everyone alive it got shoved aside of his outward behavior unless it was useful. he is a lovable dorky himbo and NONE of you mentioned this.

anyway, i'm also loving the way this whole show is basically only like this because him and senshi are vibing on the same wavelength and the other two are basically just along for the ride to save their friend/part member

the whole thing has a Green Eggs and Ham kind of thing going on with it too. but like...environmentalist about it? like it was more subtle about the whole "hey maybe work WITH your current environment rather than against it" bit and then we found out what senshi normally does and subtlety just went right out the fucking window on that front.

i'm also liking the way it both explores the horrors of dying in a world where being brought back to life is common, while also kind of...poking fun at it? like its reminding me of a thing i heard something like "the difference between comedy and tragedy is how far from it you are" kind of concept.

like they are so fucking ... how the fuck do you spell it blase? with the little "/" over the e. that. the story is so bland in how it handles how people came back from horrific deaths and yet when the characters have to face things that remind them of their own it gets heartbreaking very quickly. but like...chillchuck. goddamn. we get just enough from his perspective that its harrowing but the way its shown to us the reader/viewer is like a comedy skit

cause like...its both.

these guys keep dying/nearly dying to THE. SAME. FUCKING. SHIT.

mage elf is slimebait, chillchuck is basically Dungeon Canary with an emphasis on mimics, and himbro over here is gonna get himself killed trying to pet/eat a new monster no one else knows about at some point. probably why his sister seems to have specialized in healing magic.

i know the fandom is thinking once they get his sister back that she's gonna be Just Like Him but i think it would be much funnier AND more 'realistic' if they were classic autism-adhd alliance but siblings about it. like him being better at staying on a task and her being better at navigating social cues and shit. and both of them with their own little special interest energy. i'm betting her's is magic. and thats why even magic elf is like "omg shes so good at magic i'm no where near that level" about it. i mean its also the lesbianism but there IS more to that than thirst from what i've seen.

anyway i'm 6 episodes into what seems to be 12 available on netflix and i'm already hooked. might have to see if i can get my hands on the manga or something too

[superpixie42]

So it's not quite ready for AO3 buuuuuuuuuuut

I did make progress on The Thing aka my whole 7-part new AU for InuKag Week. After not writing anything for months, I'm a little rusty and this is more ambitious in terms of style and world building than I typically work with so I'm not sure when the whole thing will be ready, but I love love love @inukag-week and seeing so many folks coming out of hiatus to participate really inspired me to get *something* ready to rock.

Much love to @anisaanisa @kstewdeux and @dawnrider for their help as I shook off the cobwebs.

So here is Part 1: Love Languages (aka Touch & Miscommunication)

General Info:

Summary:

Kagome Higurashi would sell her soul to get into a good high school. No. Literally. The ratty old journal she found in her grandfather's shed may have been a long shot, but with only one more day before her entrance exam, she really didn't have anything to lose. But when the Hell Hound Inuyasha actually materializes in her room, it turns out to be more than either of them bargained for.

RATING: M or E (but this part is T, for language)

Words: 2,000 (I know I was shocked too)

TAGS (for the whole fic not just these parts) Modern AU // InuKag Week 2023 //Serial Style// Time Jumps//Tumblr events//Modern setting//Sexual content- masturbation//Demon Summoning AU//Bittersweet Endings//No additional character tags

In which Kagome learns to be careful what she wishes for.

–

Kagome checked the instructions one more time. She had the candle, the fresh meat, the knife, and was using clean linen paper. Honestly it all looked so… dorky. She let out a frustrated sigh, unsure if she felt more disappointed or just plain stupid. Doing stuff like this was probably why she wasn’t going to get into a decent high school. Or college. And if med school ever found out she honestly tried to summon a demon using instructions she found in a handwritten journal in a shed on her grandfather’s shrine she would have a better chance of becoming a patient than treating them. 

And yet here she was. Kagome Higurashi on her knees in a black dress and dark cardigan looking straight out of an American horror movie, hoping against hope that her soul was worth a better-than-passing grade on tomorrow’s entrance exams. She was smart - smarter than her current situation made her feel, that’s for damn sure. But after nearly a semester of sick days there just wasn’t enough cram school on Earth to get her up to speed. She needed this to work. This had to work. 

She checked the clock: a good hour before her mother and brother got home. It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath Kagome quickly sliced the kitchen knife across her finger. She pressed down onto the middle of the white page. With as much conviction as she could muster she finally spoke: “Inuyasha, I need help.”

A beat passed. 

Then another. 

Nothing happened.

Honestly, she didn’t know what she expected.  Defeated, she swore violently and tore the useless little paper with its stupid little spell clean in half.

As soon as the last fiber broke there was a deafening roar. Kagome screamed and stood, pressing her back against her bedroom door. In front of her the air crackled with energy as the room went black, then flashed orange with light and heat as the walls burst into unnatural flames. In the middle of the room, pulling his way out of the torn half of paper, was a giant white dog. It growled and snarled and snapped its jaws; spittle hissing into steam. 

The Hell Hound filled the whole room, his red eyes with blue irises bore into Kagome, staring her down like the prey she was suddenly very sure she was. As Inuyasha’s shoulders dropped low to let him take the single step between them, Kagome considered her options. 

One, burn to death. 

Two, be mauled to death. 

Three, something equally melodramatic considering she summoned a fucking demon to pass a test. 

She quickly surveyed the room for an option four, looking hopefully at the window behind the hound. Her vision was blocked as the beast twisted slightly to face her fully again, its pointed white ears alert and focused on the heartbeat she could hear loud as a drum. She watched the ear twitch at her intake of breath. Maybe it was a lack of oxygen from the arson she’d accidentally committed, but the longer she looked at the ears the softer they looked. Figuring she was going to die anyway, Kagome slowly raised her hand; Inuyasha finally blinked, then moved his eyes to follow her raising arm. 

As softly as she could manage, Kagome dragged her middle finger down from the tip, but the ear didn’t so much as flinch. Emboldened, she quickly caressed her thumb and forefinger on the fluffy white ear. 

As soon as her fingers closed around the soft appendage the growling stopped and instead she heard a very human voice shouting in her face.

“What the fuck lady? You don’t pet a Hell Hound!” 

As suddenly as it appeared the fire disappeared. Kagome dropped to her knees in confusion and relief as her room reappeared around her, untouched and unscathed by the flames no longer licking at her face. She blinked stupidly at where the monstrous dog had been only seconds ago. In its place was a pale, fit, glowering man - the pointy ears she’d just held in her hand perched on top of a thick pile of frizzy white hair. Below the pinned back ears were thick, scowling eyebrows, molten golden eyes with slit pupils, and an expression as black as a thundercloud. She tried to find somewhere else to look when the heat returned quickly to her face as she realized that the angry demon dog man was a naked angry demon dog man. 

She ripped her eyes back to the ears. Unusual. 

Then to his eyes. Unsettling. 

The penis. Unexpected.

In an undignified fluster she smacked her face to the floor in a deep bow.

“My name is Kagome and my Lord Inuyasha I beg you to help me, please please I have to get into High School! In exchange I’ll give you anything you want I swear! Just make sure I pass and it’s yours.”

Inuyasha stood absolutely dumbfounded in the middle of what he now realized was a small bedroom, in a small house, next to a small shrine. When he’d felt his summoning charm call him he expected to rip into a board room, or a camp fire, or the aftermath of something that had gone very pear shaped. He was used to being offered souls, meat, or blood in exchange for power, murder, money; or to make problems go away in whatever manner he wanted. He sure as shit didn’t expect a teenager in a pink cat sweater to touch his ears and then ask him to help her cheat on a test. 

He scoffed. But after five hundred years of the same pathetic, selfish demands, novelty wasn’t something Inuyasha was willing to walk away from so quickly. He bit. 

“Keh, what can a girl like you even offer a hell hound?”

Kagome lifted her head slightly to look at him. “Anything you want. I’m a virgin-”

“Nope.”

“I am so!” she shouted indigently. She raised herself up onto her knees and glared. Yes, Kagome was turning to black magic to pass her exam but she wasn’t going to have her character assassinated by a demon. “You don’t have to be rude ya know!”

Inuyasha blinked as his ears flattened of their own accord. It had been a very long time since anyone scolded him. Another unexpected turn in this summoning. He crossed his arms and returned her glare.  

“I mean no I’m not interested in your virginity. Or your soul, you humans have such tiny souls anyway.” He smirked as he saw her lip twitch with what he was sure was a scathing retort. Kagome, however, did not take the bait. Instead she reigned in her temper and bowed low again. In a much less desperate tone she spoke into the floor. 

“In exchange for making sure I get into a high school that will get me into medical school I will give you anything you ask.”

“You summoned a demon for that? If you can’t even pass an entrance exam what makes you think you can survive medical school? Ya can’t offer your virginity to a demon twice ya know - how were you even gonna graduate?”

That, however, was too much. Kagome stood and stomped over to him, poking her finger into his chest for emphasis as she shouted. 

“Listen here pal! I could pass that test all on my own if they would just give me some time! It’s not my fault I got sick, like doctors aren’t allowed to get sick sometimes!?” She growled in frustration, a sound that Inuyasha couldn’t help but appreciate as it sounded not unlike his own. “It’s not fair. I just need time to catch up on the material and I know I could do it on my own. But if I don’t take the test tomorrow, or I flunk and retake it, that’s it, my reputation will never recover even if my grade point average does.” 

Inuyasha considered her request. I wouldn’t take any effort at all to change her score on the exam. But then he’d be back to aimlessly wandering until someone much less interesting with a much less, well not wholesome, but definitely more gruesome demand calls him. This Kagome stood up to him, defended herself, faced death in the eye and instead of running she reached out to touch it. While he had already decided to grant her wish, he had also decided he wasn’t quite going to do it the way she asked.

“You ain’t the only one with a reputation,” he said. He took a step back, cutting the tension and giving Kagome space to breathe. “If I’m gonna get you into this stupid special school I gotta make sure you stay there. Folks summoning me need to know I get the job all the way done, not taking the easy way out.”

Kagome narrowed his eyes, skeptical of the idea of creating an ongoing contract instead of the single transaction she expected. But then again, he wasn’t entirely wrong. What if changing her scores got noticed and she needed another fix? What if she got sick again? Isn’t that why you’re supposed to be really, really specific with genies? Assuming there were genies- but that afternoon’s events made her consider taking up antiquing as a hobby just in case.

“You still haven’t told me what you want as payment.”

“Well,” he said, “depends on what you need.” He picked at his ear with a pointed finger to feign disinterest. “To guarantee a passing grade I’ll just need something small. But to un-dead someone you cut up in clinicals will be a whole other matter,” he smirked at her undignified snort, “but not as much as convincing the class leader to take six months in Shanghai to improve your standing. But let’s not worry about that just yet.” 

Kagome braced herself, but still felt the air rush out of her lungs when he finally said, “I want your right eye.” He continued quickly, “For one year, I want to see everything you see through that eye. It becomes my eye. If I get bored, I can simply make it go black. Or maybe I use it to track someone for another wish. Or maybe I don’t do anything at all; but it’s mine to do as I will.”

He slit open the tab of his left thumb with a quick swipe of his claw. “Do we have a bargain?”

Kagome hesitated. This seemed more annoying than costly- thought being suddenly blind in one eye wasn’t what she’d expected. Was this better or worse?

Did she really feel like she had a choice anymore? 

“Deal.”

With one smooth motion Inuyasha thrust his thumb into her eyesocket. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground and she quickly threw both hands up to cover her face as her left eye burned. As soon as it started, it ended. Kagome blinked slowly, looking around the empty room. It looked exactly as it had an hour ago and if not for the dull ache behind her orbitals and the sweat caking her brow she might have thought it was all a dream. On hands and knees she scrambled across the floor and snatched the small mirror from the desk.

Staring back at her was one of her traditional brown eyes. The other was bloodshot, with a blown pupil, and a bright sapphire blue iris; and without her permission, it winked back at her.