#ill think of a tag for text posts later

[slimespecter]

i keep thinking about how i never talk about my characters, and decided im gonna change that! keeping any future oc ramblings tumblr exclusive. because i like yall

of course, first up is stanley. gonna start by copy and pasting his info from his toyhouse profile below! (which you can also check out here!)

Computer technician by day, guitarist and singer by night.

Name: STANLEY PRESCOTT

He/Him - Age: 25 (Born on August 14, 1982 - His storyverse takes place in the mid-late 2000’s!) - Height: 5’10 ft (178 cm)

Voiceclaim: Keith Murray

Stanley’s a bit of an aimless adult, just going through the motions - working at his dads computer repair shop part-time, messing around with electronics instead of fixing them - He’s good at his job, after all computers are what he specializes in, but he never realized just how… Boring it would be. Starting a band with his best friend Richie has brought some excitement, and given them a good excuse to constantly hang out and party. Hell, he’ll take any excuse to find some fun in his mind-numbingly boring life.

He still feels some obligation towards helping his dad out, though, and his part-time job helps his band cover costs, so he’ll deal with it till they make their big break. Till then, he’s satisfied playing small shows and is just happy to be hanging around his closest friends. Although… He can't really explain it, but ever since he tried repairing his dad's computer to resell it, he feels like lately his own electronics have been acting rather... Buggy.

Random Notes:

Personality:

Stanley can come off as a bit cocky and self-assured, especially when on stage performing for an adoring crowd - what can he say? He loves the attention! But he’s overall a nice, friendly guy. He’s very witty and playful, and a tad sarcastic - he loves bizarre, dry humor and being a facetious ass to his friends. He’s definitely much calmer and pleasant to talk to than he seems - at least, compared to how he acts on stage and around his closer friends. He often shies away from more serious situations if he can help it, he hates confrontation and will avoid directly confronting a situation if he can - which usually leads to shit building up and blowing up in his face. Once pulled into a situation, however, he doesn’t shy away from it - just because he hates confrontation doesn't mean he’s afraid of it, but he’ll try and keep things from blowing waaay out of proportion if possible. He can get very snarky, blunt, and direct when upset - which is very rare, its hard for him to get seriously upset. He’s often called stubborn, as once he’s set his mind on something it can be hard for him to budge on whatever it is. He can also be very irresponsible and impulsive - If it piques his curiosity even the slightest, its easy to drag him along for whatever - he’ll often indulge in his own wants and skirt away from his responsibilities to go out and have fun, go drinking, party, etc. He‘s young, he’s kinda dumb, and he just wants to have fun!

Ever since he fixed his dads stupid computer (and got shocked when he plugged it in), electronics have started to glitch out, spark, and stop working whenever he’s near for no reason. He has no idea why this happens, and it interferes with his job- and it gets worse whenever he gets worked up, often accidentally shocking himself and the tech around him.

His hair started prematurely graying when he was 18. He owns it though and claims it makes him look cool and mature- although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel at least a bit self conscious about it. It goes completely gray by the time he reaches his mid 30s.

Richie’s the one who taught him guitar, and gifted him his first guitar- Rocky, a blue stratocaster. He has a growing collection of guitars that he‘ll switch between, but mainly uses Rocky (his blue strat) and Crash (his green custom-built strat) when performing. He also taught himself to play drums- he isn’t very good at it though.

He‘s a huge nerd when it comes to his equipment - god, don’t even get him started on his collection of guitar pedals or his set up. You wont be able to get him to shut up. Anyways, check out his sweet pedalboard setup - Hey, wait! Where’re ya goin’?

He drives a 2000s Toyota Sienna!

Diet Coke addict. Fuck, he loves the taste of fizzy ultra processed chemicals.

He loves cats! Unfortunately, he is also allergic to cats. Will this stop him from petting any he sees anyways? Absolutely not. Allergies be damned. In fact, he has a cat of his own (named Russel!) He’s also allergic to shellfish and kiwi’s - which he doesn’t like as much.

[solariex]

yeahh uh who wants to know how my break from the red blog is ?? basically this

alsoo bonus because i thought it was funny LMAOO

(also also if both look like red avm its cause im a red fictive (but i also go by marz) who ironically runs the blog woww plural system stuff i bet i havent said that 50 times by nowwww—💥💥💥)

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

umm trying to figure out how 2 draw piccolo...

i just think having no friends his age and being around piccolo all the time as a teenager would have an affect on gohans formative years

[drpeppertummy]

Thinking About Sunnyyyy not even sexy im just pondering his issues [under cut for all kinds of abuse & trauma & mental issues & shit]

even after everything his dad put him through. being abusive & neglectful to him his whole childhood esp after his mom died, deliberately almost letting him die, telling him flat out from a young age that he didnt want him and outwardly favoring his siblings, saying endless awful things to him about his disabilities & his sickliness & his sexuality, essentially disowning him & refusing any of sunnys attempts to be friendly to him, making him feel like an unlovable burden from the day he was born, etc . sunny is way too forgiving & would make up with him in a heartbeat if he had the chance. if his dad was ever like Alright. I Change My Mind About You. You Can Be My Son. he would totally just throw the past behind him & embrace him fully. he wants his dads love so bad he would accept it even if he knew it was fake as hell. i think its the #2 thing he wants most in the world, #1 being his mom back

& like his adhd is a big part of why hes so sensitive & afraid of rejection but part of it also is that deep down hes convinced its his fault his dad was so awful to him & hes afraid his friends partners etc will and/or do feel the same way & hes afraid that hes just fundamentally bad & unlikable. even tho he knows hes superficially cute & charming & charismatic hes afraid that anyone who gets too close will start to see whatever his dad saw & get tired of him. this does not stop him from forming relationships with his whole heart but it Does make him worry about it. hes good at hiding these feelings tho he doesnt wanna worry anybody & he knows its not fair to his friends to project that insecurity onto them (even tho talking about it would probably help) so he pretty much just keeps it bottled up. he will get therapy someday

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

CRYING SCREAMING THROWING STATIONARY THE CURSE OF BEING A DISCOVERY WRITER WHEN YOU'VE GOT SOME BUT NOT ALL OF YOUR SHIT FIGURED OUT!!!!

[mizzical]

Okay so unsure about my username now for my art platforms (mizzical) and im thinking about changing it. 1) this username is an actual word despite it being a result of combining two words so it can be mistaken as that word ("mizzica") despite it not being on purpose; 2) it doesnt seem "remarkable" enough like sure i guess its unique but is it searchable and remember (i dont know). Sure me being unpopular is more likely going to make my art images not appear when looking up my name but IDK. im just feeling very confused rn about my username for my art platforms *eyeroll*

i had saw myself with this username for a long time but now i dont know anymore. this decision is even more hard to conclude because i'm on sheezy art with this user, and i dont think you can change your username on there. Sigh idk. Even if i decide to change my username, it wont be soon though

[cripplecharacters]

Where to Start Your Research When Writing a Disabled Character

[large text: Where to Start Your Research When Writing a Disabled Character]

So you have decided that you want to make a disabled character! Awesome. But what's next? What information should you decide on at the early phrase of making the character?

This post will only talk about the disability part of the character creation process. Obviously, a disabled character needs a personality, interests, and backstory as every other one. But by including their disability early in the process, you can actually get it to have a deeper effect on the character - disability shouldn't be their whole life, but it should impact it. That's what disabilities do.

If you don't know what disability you would want to give them in the first place;

[large text: If you don't know what disability you would want to give them in the first place;]

Start broad. Is it sensory, mobility related, cognitive, developmental, autoimmune, neurodegenerative; maybe multiple of these, or maybe something else completely? Pick one and see what disabilities it encompasses; see if anything works for your character. Or...

If you have a specific symptom or aid in mind, see what could cause them. Don't assume or guess; not every wheelchair user is vaguely paralyzed below the waist with no other symptoms, not everyone with extensive scarring got it via physical trauma. Or...

Consider which disabilities are common in real life. Cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, stroke, cataracts, diabetes, intellectual disability, neuropathy, multiple sclerosis, epilepsy, thyroid disorders, autism, dwarfism, arthritis, cancers, brain damage, just to name a few.

Decide what specific type of condition they will have. If you're thinking about them having albinism, will it be ocular, oculocutaneous, or one of the rare syndrome-types? If you want to give them spinal muscular atrophy, which of the many possible onsets will they have? If they have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which one out of the 13 different types do they have? Is their amputation below, or above the knee (it's a major difference)? Not all conditions will have subtypes, but it's worth looking into to not be surprised later. This will help you with further research.

If you're really struggling with figuring out what exact disability would make sense for your character, you can send an ask. Just make sure that you have tried the above and put actual specifics in your ask to give us something to work with. You can also check out our "disabled character ideas" tag.

Here are some ideas for a character using crutches.

Here are some ideas for a character with a facial difference (obligatory link: what is a facial difference?).

If you already know what disability your character is going to have;

[large text: If you already know what disability your character is going to have;]

Start by reading about the onset and cause of the condition. It could be acquired, congenital, progressive, potentially multiple of these. They could be caused by an illness, trauma, or something else entirely. Is your character a congenital amputee, or is it acquired? If acquired - how recently? Has it been a week, or 10 years? What caused them to become disabled - did they have meningitis, or was it an accident? Again, check what your options are - there are going to be more diverse than you expect.

Read about the symptoms. Do not assume or guess what they are. You will almost definitely discover something new. Example: a lot of people making a character with albinism don't realize that it has other symptoms than just lack of melanin, like nystagmus, visual impairment, and photophobia. Decide what your character experiences, to what degree, how frequently, and what do they do (or don't do) to deal with it.

Don't give your character only the most "acceptable" symptoms of their disability and ignore everything else. Example: many writers will omit the topic of incontinence in their para- and tetraplegic characters, even though it's extremely common. Don't shy away from aspects of disability that aren't romanticized.

Don't just... make them abled "because magic". If they're Deaf, don't give them some ability that will make them into an essentially hearing person. Don't give your blind character some "cheat" so that they can see, give them a cane. Don't give an amputee prosthetics that work better than meat limbs. To have a disabled character you need to have a character that's actually disabled. There's no way around it.

Think about complications your character could experience within the story. If your character wears their prosthetic a lot, they might start to experience skin breakdown or pain. Someone who uses a wheelchair a lot has a risk of pressure sores. Glowing and Flickering Fantasy Item might cause problems for someone photophobic or photosensitive. What do they do when that happens, or how do they prevent that from happening?

Look out for comorbidities. It's rare for disabled people to only have one medical condition and nothing else. Disabilities like to show up in pairs. Or dozens.

If relevant, consider mobility aids, assistive devices, and disability aids. Wheelchairs, canes, rollators, braces, AAC, walkers, nasal cannulas, crutches, white canes, feeding tubes, braillers, ostomy bags, insulin pumps, service dogs, trach tubes, hearing aids, orthoses, splints... the list is basically endless, and there's a lot of everyday things that might count as a disability aid as well - even just a hat could be one for someone whose disability requires them to stay out of the sun. Make sure that it's actually based on symptoms, not just your assumptions - most blind people don't wear sunglasses, not all people with SCI use a wheelchair, upper limb prosthetics aren't nearly as useful as you think. Decide which ones your character could have, how often they would use them, and if they switch between different aids.

Basically all of the above aids will have subtypes or variants. There is a lot of options. Does your character use an active manual wheelchair, a powerchair, or a generic hospital wheelchair? Are they using high-, or low-tech AAC? What would be available to them? Does it change over the course of their story, or their life in general?

If relevant, think about what treatment your character might receive. Do they need medication? Physical therapy? Occupational therapy? Orientation and mobility training? Speech therapy? Do they have access to it, and why or why not?

What is your character's support system? Do they have a carer; if yes, then what do they help your character with and what kind of relationship do they have? Is your character happy about it or not at all?

How did their life change after becoming disabled? If your character goes from being an extreme athlete to suddenly being a full-time wheelchair user, it will have an effect - are they going to stop doing sports at all, are they going to just do extreme wheelchair sports now, or are they going to try out wheelchair table tennis instead? Do they know and respect their new limitations? Did they have to get a different job or had to make their house accessible? Do they have support in this transition, or are they on their own - do they wish they had that support?

What about *other* characters? Your character isn't going to be the only disabled person in existence. Do they know other disabled people? Do they have a community? If your character manages their disability with something that's only available to them, what about all the other people with the same disability?

What is the society that your character lives in like? Is the architecture accessible? How do they treat disabled people? Are abled characters knowledgeable about disabilities? How many people speak the local sign language(s)? Are accessible bathrooms common, or does your character have to go home every few hours? Is there access to prosthetists and ocularists, or what do they do when their prosthetic leg or eye requires the routine check-up?

Know the tropes. If a burn survivor character is an evil mask-wearer, if a powerchair user is a constantly rude and ungrateful to everyone villain, if an amputee is a genius mechanic who fixes their own prosthetics, you have A Trope. Not all tropes are made equal; some are actively harmful to real people, while others are just annoying or boring by the nature of having been done to death. During the character creation process, research what tropes might apply and just try to trace your logic. Does your blind character see the future because it's a common superpower in their world, or are you doing the ancient "Blind Seer" trope?

Remember, that not all of the above questions will come up in your writing, but to know which ones won't you need to know the answers to them first. Even if you don't decide to explicitly name your character's condition, you will be aware of what they might function like. You will be able to add more depth to your character if you decide that they have T6 spina bifida, rather than if you made them into an ambiguous wheelchair user with ambiguous symptoms and ambiguous needs. Embrace research as part of your process and your characters will be better representation, sure, but they will also make more sense and seem more like actual people; same with the world that they are a part of.

This post exists to help you establish the basics of your character's disability so that you can do research on your own and answer some of the most common ("what are symptoms of x?") questions by yourself. If you have these things already established, it will also be easier for us to answer any possible questions you might have - e.g. "what would a character with complete high-level paraplegia do in a world where the modern kind of wheelchair has not been invented yet?" is more concise than just "how do I write a character with paralysis?" - I think it's more helpful for askers as well; a vague answer won't be of much help.

I hope that this post is helpful,

mod Sasza

[simonisferal]

the different side of a coin

YOUR ex is a piece of shit—just getting it out of the way—so when he, out of the nowehere, wanted to break up with you, you would’ve been ecstatic! except you weren’t, seeing how you were convinced he was the love of your life or whatever. now coping and realizing how tired you were having to carry every conversation and crying every night he doesn’t text you back, you get your life together perfectly fine. years later, you fall in love with an artist—someone who understands you more than you yourself; and someone you’d never thought you’d hear from again.

tags: ex/artist scaramouche x gn reader, exes to lovers warnings: slight angst (not really), they both still like each other but idk, status: starting…. idk — written chapters will have a 🎸

prologue: he was so nice before. 🎸

0.1: the way things go

1. coping is making me rich — 2. popularity

3. eargasm — 4. attached to a song

5. favoritism — 6. obliviously in love

7. over him — 8. i see you

9. get out of my head — 10. crash out 🎸

11. marinette dupain-cheng — 12. liar

13. don’t hate me — 14. nosy

15. surprise! 🎸

0.2: you’re here. that’s the thing

16. call me back — 17. you know.

18. the waiting game — 19. disappointed.

20. you look the same. 🎸 — 21. i think i’m ready

22. paparazzi — 23. tba…

0.3: pictures of us (bonus chapters)

1. tba…

erhm…. hey guys 😁 how are we liking it here? very preppy!!! 😻

ill post the prolouge idk next week so be there or be square!

taglist: @liuaneee, @axquella , @kunikuni1819 , @quiechee , @ kunikissr , @jinjjjia , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @mywillt0live , @sunnylyly, @ilovecats-26, @scaraenthusiast1, @akarisuzuk1, @mechanicalbeat1, @raytoebiter, @kunikuzushis-darling

[calcifiedunderland]

Part I (here), Part II, Part III (COMPLETED)

Trey Clover vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Jamil Viper x GN! Reader

In which the way to the Prefect’s heart is through their stomach! At least, according to three of NRC’s students…

I got the idea from @recreyomakesdoodles , from this post! Thank you so much, hope you liked it!!💕

Tagging people I think would be interested: @aruis4nosleep , @tinseltina

Warnings: food/eating

Notes: I decided to split this into multiple parts because I never have any restraint while writing and this ended up being long. Enjoy :D

———————————————————♣️🐙🐍

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Azul pushed his glasses up, balancing a stack of takeout boxes emblazoned with the Mostro Lounge logo on them. Cold blue eyes met Trey’s golden irises. Trey cleared his throat, shifting a heavy picnic basket from one hand to the other. “What brings you here, Azul? I thought you’d be busy at Mostro Lounge…”

Azul snorted, “the Prefect knows to expect me today. Clearly, you are the one intruding.” Earlier that week, he overheard you wailing to your friends about your upcoming History of Magic exam. Apparently, this unit was on Atlantica’s magical history - a topic that was, unfortunately, giving you trouble.

Fortunately, Azul was a mer who grew up learning the history by heart. Naturally he offered you assistance in exchange for having you taste-test some dishes. And how could he not help a poor, unfortunate fellow student like yourself?

Besides, if he wanted to bring along some personally cooked meals to Ramshackle, under the claim that you both would be there ‘for hours, so you may as well try some foods (that I made!) for the upcoming Lounge menu (that I run)!’, that was nobody’s business. And certainly not Clover’s business.

Trey crossed his arms, easily holding the heavy picnic basket like it weighed nothing. Azul could smell the buttery pastries and powdered sugar through the closed basket lid where he stood. “Riddle sent me to give the Prefect an invitation to the next Unbirthday Party. I thought I’d give them some treats to… sweeten the deal.” Though Trey had a disarmingly pleasant smile with the pun, his eyes bored into Azul’s.

Azul frowned. “That couldn’t have been more than a simple text. Aren’t they friends with your first years, as well?” He asked, remembering your first year friends that he’d turned into anemones.

Trey adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze, a telltale deflection sign that Azul didn’t miss. “Well, it’s more official coming from the Vice Housewarden.” “And I suppose the baked goods are complimentary?” Azul sniffed disdainfully at the basket, “Surely, the prefect needs more than pastries. A proper meal,” he emphasized.

Trey’s eyes narrowed, “a basket of baked goods is better than whatever deal you’d have for them,” he nodded to the boxes Azul carried. “Everyone loves a good old fashioned pastry. Can’t say the same for seafood.” Azul opened his mouth to retort, when suddenly both of their ringtones went off.

IM SO SORRY AZUL!!!!! I got caught up with something, can I come over tomorrow?? I likely won’t be done until later, the headmage has me doing stuff 😭

TREY!!! Tysm for the invite, you didn’t have to go out of ur way to give it in person!! ill definitely be there at the party! 😄 sry I’m not there atm, Crowley wanted me to do something for him

Trey frowned, reading your text. Azul huffed, shouldering the stack of food boxes, muttering “looks like today was a loss.” Trey sighed, “well, it can’t be helped…” he made a mental note to put the pastries in the Heartslabyul fridge and just deliver it to you tomorrow, under the guise of ‘checking up on you’ after working for Crowley. The two of them trudged down the path to the Hall of Mirrors, heading back to their dorms.

The two of them walked in silence until Trey abruptly said, “I don’t know what you want with the Prefect, but I hope you have their best intentions at heart.” Azul turned to give Trey a withering look, “I assure you, when it comes to the Prefect, I have nothing but good intentions.” As he stepped into Octavinelle, Azul smirked and muttered, “especially regarding their heart.” Trey lingered for a bit, staring at the Octavinelle mirror with an unreadable expression. “We’ll see about that,” he said aloud in the empty Hall, then headed back to Heartslabyul.

—•—♣️🐙🐍—•—

Meanwhile, you sighed heavily, collapsing onto the chair. The cafeteria was pretty much empty, save for the random student or two. It was already darkening outside, and you were hungry. Crowley wanted you to do something for him just before lunch, and soon half your Saturday was gone running around NRC. You’d even lost track of time, and missed Azul’s study session and Trey dropping in! You groaned, hearing your stomach growl loudly.

“Prefect? What are you doing here?”

You glanced up, seeing Jamil with a large container of tupperware and other small containers. The delicious scent of curries, labneh yogurt cheese, and freshly made pita made your mouth water. Despite yourself, Jamil caught you looking at the boxed-up food more than once.

“…Crowley had me running errands, and I may have skipped lunch…” your voice grew quiet near the end. Jamil raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “I actually ended up making too much food for Kalim,” he said, moving around the table to sit next to you. “There’s enough for an extra person, and I’ve have already eaten.”

Your eyes widened, and Jamil started dishing out some curry and flatbread for you. Bright-colored curry sauce and chickpeas flooded the platter, wafting a delicious scent. As Jamil ripped a piece of pita, your stomach growl loudly. Your face felt warm. Jamil only chuckled, pushing the plate he’d conjured towards you. “What about Kalim?” You asked, feeling bad. Jamil smiled, “Please, go ahead. There’s enough for Kalim and you.” A warm smile grew on your face, and you gave Jamil a one-sided hug before digging in. “Thank you! You’re my savior!”

As he watched you eat, a tender look grew on Jamil’s face. He shifted the food containers so he could watch you while nibbling on some flatbread. It wasn’t difficult to determine that you were off on Crowley’s whims again - with you running around the school and being gone for several hours. With that in mind, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault if he accidentally made too much food, so he thought he’d drop it off at Ramshackle later. It was sheer luck that you’d dropped by the cafeteria!

You hummed, soaking up some of the leftover curry sauce with your flatbread, “this was delicious, Jamil. Thank you so much.”

Jamil smiled genuinely, but a devious look came into his eyes when you looked back at your plate. “Please, Prefect, allow me. Wait here.” He took the plate, going to the kitchens to box up some food for you to take back. Walking back to you, he handed you the container, “It’s getting late, I can walk you back to Ramshackle.”

The two of you set off, with you holding some of Jamil’s boxes. “This was… really sweet of you, Jamil,” you smiled. You knew Jamil always had his hands full, whether it was taking care of Kalim or managing literally everything else. Maybe the food was making you gush, but you were definitely grateful for the impromptu meal. As you opened the door to Ramshackle, you gingerly handed the boxes back to him.

“Ah, wait,” he shuffled them and held a large one out to you. “This one is yours.” Your eyes widened, “Jamil, this is a lot-“ “Please.” Your eyes met his dark grey irises, and warm gratitude filled your chest. “Jamil, I… I really don’t know what to say. I have to repay you somehow-“ Now that was what he wanted to hear.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to try making some new dishes,” he glanced at you. “I’ve been needing someone to taste test them, and Kalim won’t be available…” You nodded eagerly, “Of course! I’d love to help you!” You said your goodbyes, and as the door shut behind you, Jamil had a calculating smirk on his face. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

Thanks for being patient everyone!! Hope you enjoyed this part, reblogs and comments are forever appreciated 💕

lmk if anyone wants to be added to the taglist! Take care shrimpies~ 😘

[n0vazsq]

Valentine | JMM3 x Reader

pairing . . . pepe marti x blind!date!reader

summary . . . Your best friend, Gaby, set you up with a blind date and is forcing you to go. Little did you know, it was with your celebrity crush, Pepe

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . christina nadin

alexavia yaps . . . HAPPY VALENTINES GANGALANG!!!!! so sorry if its short or lacks content but i have my scholarship exam tmrw and i need to study!! i might write a oneshot later today but until now ill only post this!! each post is kind of a monthly update of their relationship up until valentines!!

yourusername

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell, yourbsf and 2.1K others

yourusername it's still november and my best friend is forcing me to go on a blind date so i can get a valentine Tagged: gabyprentice_

click to view all comments

gabyprentice_ you should thank me

yourusername no?

gabyprentice_ you really will after you see him

christian.mansell trust me y/n you will

yourusername WHO IS HE

gabyprentice_ it's called a blind date for a reason

christian.mansell i can't wait to see your reaction when you see who it is

gabyprentice_ neither can i

username1 so prettyyy

username2 the breakfast looks so good

username3 let us know who he is

yourusername i will once i know who he is myself

username3 the suspense is killing me omgg

username4 praying for y/n bc blind dates never end well

username5 i just know christian and gaby made y/n's life a living hell with this date

username6 WHAT IF ITS PEPE

username7 WAIT IT COULD BE

username8 woah

username9 y/n please post more updating us about the mystery date

yourbsf who's that gorgeous lady

yourusername me

yourbsf you can't be this beautiful also send me your reaction when you see the blind date

yourusername wow okay SO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS TOO??

gabyprentice_ we told her

yourusername AND NOT ME?

yourbsf its a BLIND date

yourusername i will ram your head into the wall 😊

username10 you shoud update us every month until valentines so we can see the relationship progress

username11 yess omg pls do that y/n

username12 man i love you for this

yourusername ill think about it

username13 how can someone be so prettyyyy

username14 this blind date lucky asf bc anyone is BLESSED if they just get one look at y/n

username15 meow

username16 real

username17 screaming crying throwing up why coyldnt it be me

username18 this is pinterest aesthetic coded

username19 SO PRETTYYYYYYYY

username18 queen

username19 fr fr

username20 MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS SHIT I NEED TO KNOW WHO MYSTERY MAN IS

yourusername

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell, yourbsf and 2.2K others

yourusername best dinner date i've ever had (i'm not talking about the food) Tagged: pepemartiofficial

click to view all comments

username21 EH???

username22 HER CELEBITY CRUSH LMFAO

username23 i feel like she wont be hating christian and gavby so much anymore

username24 HOW ARE THEY BOTH SO PRETTYYYY

username25 my kind of love frrr

username26 no.1 couple argument closed

username27 sigh i wish i was a wag

pepemartiofficial i'm glad you enjoyed it!

yourusername i had so much fun!! thank you for not leaving me when i panicked

pepemartiofficial maybe we can both have a redemption? next week?

yourusername i'd love that!

gabyprentice_ i'll text you each others numbers <3

yourusername we already exchanged them

username28 MR MARTI i was NOT aware of your game

username29 i live for these updates

username30 y/n me on my KNEES

username31 what id pay to be pepe

christian.mansell didn't go so bad, did it?

yourusername SHUT UP you could've matched us like way sooner

christian.mansell it was fun seeing you panic

yourusername SHUT UP

christian.mansell so violent and for what?

username32 OKAY OKAY I SEE THE VISION

username33 shes so pretty omgggg

username34 idk if i want to be y/n or pepe

username35 holy shit hes gorgeous

username36 came here for pepe stayed for y/n

yourbsf woah youre so hot

yourusername youre hotter

yourbsf nahhh youre way hotter

yourusername yk who is hotter than all of us

yourbsf oh god not again

yourusername i texted you the name 😈

yourbsf i was expecting it

christian.mansell 🏃🏃

yourbsf what are you running to...?

christian.mansell the y/n blind date plan gc

yourusername WHAT

yourusername add me i want to see what you three are saying about me

gabyprentice_ no way

yourusername come on guys i just want to see

yourbsf nuh uh

christian.mansell don't even try i'm saying no

yourusername sigh i deserve better friends

gabyprentice_ reminder that we set you up on this date

yourusername yeah yeah i said im grateful

yourbsf you better be

username37 man i love them

username38 HELP THE GC LORE IS INSANE

username39 did yourbsf just expose them or

username40 i feel like im intruding reading the comments between them

NEW NOTIFICATION: pepemartiofficial has started following you !

pepemartiofficial

liked by christian.mansell, yourusername, isackhadjar and 122K others

pepemartiofficial barcelona in december 🤍

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username41 A SOFT LAUNCH??? EH????

username42 THE PICS??? EXCLUSIVE SUBSCRIPTION??? EXCUSE ME???

username43 how is he so good looking

username44 the face card is INSANE

username45 I NEED THIS SO BADLY UGHHHHHHH

username46 STOP WHO IS THIS

username47 need a boyfriend like him

christian.mansell i see the soft launch vision

pepemartiofficial okay christian

sebasmontoya58 hes getting brave with it

christian.mansell yes he is

sebasmontoya58 our little boy is growing up 😭

pepemartiofficial 🤨

mariboya64 he probably forgot about us now

christian.mansell he wont hang out with us like he used to

sebasmontoya58 he'll be acting more mature

mariboya64 now he'll ditch us for dates like this

pepemartiofficial no

sebasmontoya58 another man fallen down along christian and me

mariboya64 okay sebastian

christian.mansell HELP

pepemartiofficial you know our girlfriends created a gc and are planning against us

sebasmontoya58 yeah i'm in it

christian.mansell WHAT??? i'm forcing gaby and y/n to let me join

username48 who tf is y/n

username49 idk maybe she's mari's gf??

username50 her insta is yourusername she's pepe's gf

username51 if my bf aint like this ion want him

yourbsf ill admit this is actually cute

pepemartiofficial thank you!!

yourusername we're not cute we're hot

yourbsf you're both tho

pepemartiofficial true

gabyprentice_ why'd you have to ruin such a beautiful and innocent moment

pepemartiofficial life

yourusername WORDS 🗣️ 💯🙏❗

username52 legit can't decide if i should cry or clap

username53 oh how i need this more than oxygen

username54 so um whens the wedding

username55 whens the hard launch more like

username56 y/n fans living the life we knew about this before all of you

username57 im sighing dreamily at these pictures

username58 THE PICS.

username59 giggling blushing and kicking my feet

username60 when will pepe post more y/n sigh

yourusername how are you so gorgeous

pepemartiofficial i should be asking YOU that

yourusername omg i'm blushing you flatter me

pepemartiofficial shouldn't be flattery if it's the truth

yourusername love youuuu

pepemartiofficial love you more

NEW NOTIFICATION: user171, user89, user514 and 102K others have started following you !

yourusername

liked by pepemartiofficial, gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and 102K others

yourusername january 2025 life updates: 1. me and the 6 foot skyscraper are still together, 2. i might have a chance at getting a valentine, 3. my gallery is full of pictures of pepe, 4. me, gaby, pepe and christian have went on 17 double dates in 2024 Tagged: pepemartiofficial

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username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 people DIED (i'm people)

username63 THE LOOK OF LOVE

username64 THE RUSH OF BLOOD

username65 THE SHES WITH ME IS THE GALLIC SHURG

username66 its not a want its a NEED

username67 17 double dates in two months is crazy

username68 i just KNOW their kids will be BEAUTIFUL

username69 face card never declined

username70 and never will

mariboya64 don't go stealing around our best friend like gaby did with christian

sebasmontoya58 i dislike wags always stealing our friends

yourusername im just the girlfriend 😔

gabyprentice_ me too 😔

littlefoxhermes i see

sebasmontoya58 no wait i'm sorry

pepemartiofficial haha

username72 Y/N FINALLY GOT THE VALENTINE SHE WANTED!!!!!

username73 y/n x gaby

username74 the otp fr

username75 the lack of pepe is concerning

username76 fr like WHERE IS HEEEEEE

pepemartiofficial add more photos of your beautiful face

yourusername i want to see YOUR beautiful race

pepemartiofficial running

username77 there he is

yourbsf please please please don't force me to get a date for valentines i promise i had nothing to do with you getting spray painted on the street on 17th may

yourusername sorry?

username78 SPRAY PAINTED???

username79 theyre more chaotic than we thought oh my god

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

chirstian.mansell is he giving a presenation

pepemartiofficial no i was describing my love for her

yourusername oh...😊 josep maria marti you make me blush

yourbsf pepe? what did we talk about?

pepemartiofficial im sorry pls dont kill me

yourbsf i wont just because you take photos of my beautful girl

yourusername i love you your/bsf/name

yourbsf love you too y/n

yourusername i love you so much pepe 🤍

pepemartiofficial love you more mi linda

yourusername

liked by pepemartiofficial, gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and 106K others

yourusername i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine Tagged: pepemartiofficial

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username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'forever and always'

username84 Y/N FINALLY GOT THE VALENTINE SHE WANTED AND DESERVED

username85 legit fairytale vibes

username86 imagine being this in love

gabyprentice_ to think this all started with a blind date

christian.mansell it's crazy

yourbsf and now they can't be seperated for more than 15 minutes

username87 LAUFEY!!!!!!!!

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN.

username89 i mean they were bound to meet sooner or later bc of christian being a mutual friend

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 alexa play 'that should be me' by justin bieber

yourbsf my girl finally got the valentine she deserved

yourusername all thanks to you, christian and gaby <33 love you guys smm

yourbsf np bby <33 love youuuu

gabyprentice_ we love you more!!

christian.mansell 🥹 y/n being mature for once

username93 HSHSHSH MY FAVVV SONG

username94 STOP I CANT WAIT TO SEE HER IN THE PADDOCK

username95 if they break up then love isnt real

gabyprentice_ you two deserve it! take care of my little sister pepe

yourusername GABYYYY STOP

pepemartiofficial will do

yourusername i love my life

pepemartiofficial and i love you

username96 i just know they are each other's ride or dies

username97 where to buy a pepe asking for a friend

username98 if i could id just take over one of their bodies to experience this love

username99 im waiting for the fics

username100 straight out of romeo and juliet

yourusername i love you so so so much 🤍 you are everything to me mr marti

pepemartiofficial youre my everything too, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir (I love you more than words can say)

yourusername STOP IM GOING TO CRY 🫶🥹 I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH

pepemartiofficial I LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVERYTHING MI LINDA

yourusername has posted a new story !

caption: best valentines date 🫶🤍 te amo mucho my love mi hermoso 🤍

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username101 HAPPY VALENTINESSS

username102 im screaming this is so romantic

username103 he could do so much better than you

username104 i wish i was a wag

username105 so prettyyyyy

pepemartiofficial i love you so much mi linda 🤍

yourusername i love so much more hermoso 🤍🤍

pepemartiofficial forever

yourusername and always

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @hwalllllllelujah ,, @parkerloves ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[giveafike]

kinda obsessed with the prompt of ben x fem tennis reader being together for a lil while and being the cutest couple , breaking up bc the distance hit them too hard after two straight months of different tournaments/locations, then seeing each other for the first time at a 1000 tournament, going out to dinner with the same group of people and end up going back to bens hotel room to clear the air and obvs end up in bed together realising they’re gonna have to get thru the distance cos they can’t be without each other now 😭

TLDR: tennisplayerfem!reader and ben break up bc you can't handle being away and then surprise, you can't handle being not together. Losers.

Word count + info: 10k. Am I mentally ill? This is supposed to be a blurb.. Dialogue (angst, texts, calls, conversation).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Breakup and kinda mean stuff said (nothing physical description wise). Otherwise, it's all good! (i think)

Azzie Notes ✚: SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD. AM I OKAY??? 10K?? ON A BLURB?? idrk what angst is fr chat lmk if i did that one fr idk....im a LOVER girl ok IDK HOW TO DO THIS SAD SHIT - in saying that, was part of my dialogue in this lwky..loosely based off of my ex...........maybe...

I fear I loved this prompt so bad and like...I love to yap..so...

Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike) - feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

————————————————————————

Shattered - B.T.S.

In the beginning, being with Ben is the kind of whirlwind you've only seen in movies, a connection that feels so natural, yet thrillingly unexpected. Well, in hindsight, that might've been a lie. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but instead, a slow, magnetic pull that drew you together, like the tension building in a long rally. You met on the circuit, both hungry, ambitious, and dedicated to your own success. But from the start, Ben had this way of getting past your disciplined, guarded exterior with that relentless charm of his.

He’s everywhere, it seems—posting highlights from your matches on his stories, sneaking your name into press conferences, tagging you in his silly “lazy Saturday” shots where your game is always playing in the background. He flirts shamelessly, flashing that grin across the court, his voice lifting over the crowd to make some cheeky comment that leaves you stifling laughter. Your friends see it before you do: Ben is crazy about you, and soon, so is everyone else.

He flirted shamelessly and relentlessly, everywhere and anywhere, often catching you off guard in ways that left you flustered despite your best efforts to stay cool and professional. With that, you started to look out for the way his eyes would find yours in a crowd while you sat in the stands during his matches or how he would nudge you at practice with that easy, casual touch like he’s done it a thousand times before; like you belong by his side.

Once, when he's asked in an interview if he’d dedicated his recent win to anyone, he grins and looks straight across the room, making everyone laugh. “There’s someone special right now, but no need to say names, she knows.”

It’s sweet, funny and more than a little bold. Later, when you called him out for it over one of your first late-night calls, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic, telling you with that stupid drawl of his, “What? Ain’t no point hidin’ it. The world knows who my lucky charm is.”

Soon, it was you reaching out for him, your hand slipping onto his arm, leaning against him during walkouts, letting your barriers fall. And every time he catches your eye, every time he manages to make you smile, he looks at you like he’s won the lottery. His heart stammers a little each time you shove him playfully or roll your eyes at his antics. Whether it was on the bench or during changeovers, Ben would rest his hand gently on your lower back, a touch that makes you feel, just for a moment, like you're the only two people in the world.

When the rare break in your schedules comes around, you steal hours together. You grab a coffee, turning a "quick run" into a day spent together and wander around a city you barely know, or stumble upon a hidden café with pastries too flowery for your tastes. He made everything feel easier, like no matter how intense life gets, you’ll always have that balance with him. Around Ben, you can be softer, and more vulnerable; he brings out a side of you that isn’t just about winning and competing but about laughing, sharing, and letting go.

People noticed the way you look at each other, the easy affection that passes between you, the more daring and intimate PDA, sharing kisses and lingering stares. Soon, fans were shipping you openly, posting photos of you courtside, or whispering to each other when you lean close and murmur something that makes him laugh. On tour, you’re one of those “it” couples, a little slice of joy in the relentless pace of your careers. And in those early days, you both believe that together, you can take on anything. In those early days, you believed you could take on anything together. You and Ben were partners, equals, and even in the midst of a gruelling season, there had always been time for him, always a reason to smile. It felt perfect, like a love story you had stumbled into but were both entirely committed to.

But that honeymoon phase comes crashing down real quick.

As seasons shift and tournaments stretch across continents, the cracks start to show. At first, it’s just a few hours difference, but then come the miles and oceans, and the texts dwindled, conversations cut short, replaced by more missed calls than made and vague apologies. You both had tried, in every way you knew how. But eventually, the memories weren’t enough to bridge the distance. You’d catch yourself staying up just to wait for his call after practice, only to fall asleep disappointed, staring at a dark screen. And every time you woke up to a hastily sent sorry, something came up text, it felt like another tiny fracture.

Ben wasn’t the only one caught up in the chaos of your schedules; you had your own demands, too. The strain went both ways. In an attempt to keep things alive, you’d push yourself to keep up with his time zone, adding another city to your Clock app, setting alarms accordingly to his lunch and dinner times, staying awake far too late, eyes heavy as you sat alone in your hotel room, scrolling through old photos just to feel closer to him. When the call finally did come, your voice was barely more than a whisper, tired and distant, and Ben couldn't bear the exhaustion in your tone, his heart aching as he hushed you to sleep, meaning neither of you would stay on long.

It all piled up slowly, almost imperceptibly, until the weight felt crushing. Conversations became one-sided, it’s like chasing the sun itself, moments of silence replacing the laughter that had once felt endless, and that spark, the one that made you feel unstoppable together, felt further away with every day that passed.

Then came the day of your match, a game that should have been easy, one you’d normally have breezed through. But you were dragging, exhaustion wrapping itself around your every heavy, drooping step, and somewhere in the depths of your mind, a bitter thought took root:

If only he cared.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, but still, the frustration boiled over. Would things have felt different if you weren’t so alone in this? If you didn’t have to wonder when, or if, he’d remember to call? If he scheduled calls to your time for once? If he could just postpone everything for 20, 20 measly minutes for you?

A ball zips right by you, snapping you back to reality.

Lying in your hotel room that night, you stared at the ceiling, replaying the best moments of your time together like an old movie reel. In those moments, it had felt perfect. You’d believed you could take on the world, side by side, partners in everything. But now, with miles and silence separating you, you wondered if those memories were all that was left of what you once had.

But even with that ache, even with the emptiness filling the room, one thing is clear as day: loving Ben, for all its messiness, for all the distance and loneliness, had never felt like a mistake but God, was it hard. You pondered on those same irritating thoughts that itched at you until your fingers found your phone and hit the FaceTime Call button. Part of you wanted him to not pick up, knowing that you had nothing kind or sweet to say, but a small part of you wanted to dish back what he deserved.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice tense, worn. His drawl feels distant like he’s talking to you from across an ocean.

“Hey.” You can feel the iciness in your voice, colder than you intended.

“Long day?” he asks, though his expression is already tense, wary.

“Yeah. Almost lost today,” you say flatly.

Ben’s gaze flicks down. “I saw the score,” he says, his voice cautious. “Guess it was a tough match, babe.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” you snap. “But maybe it’s hard to focus when I’m barely sleeping… or constantly waiting for a text that never comes.”

He blinks, his eyes narrowing. “So this is on me?” The familiar accent is a little rougher around the edges. “You’re losin’ matches ‘cause I’m not callin’ you enough? That’s what you’re sayin’?”

“Don’t play dumb, Ben. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about” You feel the bitterness twisting in your chest. ““You’re barely here, Ben. Half the time, I don’t even know if we’re still together or if we’re just two people sending pointless messages every few hours. Half the time, it feels like I’m talking to a ghost.”

He lets out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “You think it’s any easier for me? I’ve got my own stuff, my own schedule, darlin'. I’ve got my career to think about too, you know, this ain't just about you.”

Your jaw tightens. “Yeah, well, at least when I'm on the court, I don’t exactly have the luxury of tuning you out, Ben. I’m not the one who forgets to call after saying I would. I don’t have time for half-assed texts and waiting around for you to call when you feel like it.”

“Oh, don’t go there,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “You know what it’s like. The fans, the interviews, the time spent on court-”

“Yeah, I get it, Ben. But last week, you bailed on a call to go sign autographs. Priorities, right?”

He takes a deep breath, visibly holding back. “C’mon, babe, you don’t mean that.”

But you press on, unable to stop yourself. “You’re too busy with whatever ‘big thing’ you have going on, right? Maybe if you cared enough to focus on your game instead of your ‘commitments,’ you wouldn’t have dropped that finals match. Just maybe.”

He flinches, his expression turning dark. “Oh, that's low from you, Y/N. You really wanna go there?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, your voice unwavering.

He pauses, his face hardening. “If you were out here on the ATP tour, you’d understand how rough it really is. You wouldn't even get past a challenger. It ain’t the same league as the WTA.”

You laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Oh, don’t even start with that. Rougher than the WTA? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Maybe come and join WTA then, you wouldn't manage it out here either, Ben.”

He snaps, his voice cutting like a whip. “You know how much I’m fightin’ to make a name for myself out here. Just ‘cause you got a few more shiny titles doesn’t mean you get to talk down to me like this.”

The sting of his words hits like a slap. Your face flushes, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling up. “So, that’s it? Just because I’ve actually earned my success, I’m some kind of… what? Nag?”

“I didn’t say that,” he shot back, voice tight, his eyes narrowing as he looked away. “But maybe you’re doin’ too much. Bein’ all… dramatic, blamin’ me for stuff I got no control over.”

“Right, okay, so I’m being dramatic,” you scoff, your voice edged with sarcasm. “I’m the one asking for too much because I want something real, something you clearly can’t give.”

He laughs, bitter and raw. “Maybe you just want too damn much.”

You feel the tears prickling behind your eyes, but you clench your jaw, holding yourself together by sheer force of will. Your voice trembles as you speak, the words thick with a pain you can’t contain. “I just want you to care, Ben, or at least pretend to care and make it believable. I want you to care enough to be here when it matters. But you’re so wrapped up in yourself, you don’t even see it.”

His face hardens, his jaw set, but his eyes hold a flicker of something unspoken. “You think I don’t care? I’m out here pushin’ myself every day, for us, for this future we’re supposed to be building 'n shit. But it’s like no matter what I do, it ain’t enough for you.”

A sharp knock sounds from his end, followed by muffled voices. He glances away, then back at you, irritation flaring in his eyes. “Look, I gotta go. Dad’s waitin’ on me; he already gave me an extra ten minutes to talk.”

You feel your heart twist, an ache of disappointment settling in. “Oh, of course,” you mutter, your voice dripping with bitterness. “Go ahead. I’m sure your training’s way more important than anything I have to say.”

He turns back, his eyes blazing with frustration. “Maybe it is right now,” he spits. “Talkin’ to you like this, all it’s doin’ is makin’ things worse. We're not getting anywhere like this-”

The words cut deeper than you expect, and you can barely hold back the surge of anger and heartbreak choking you. “Fine. Go, then. At least one of us can prioritise something.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks away. “You’re bein’ unfair, 'n you know it.”

“Am I?” you whisper, your voice tight and choked. “Or am I just done waiting for you to show up?”

You stare at each other, an endless silence stretching between you, sharp and seething, words too heavy to be unsaid. Then, with a frustrated shake of his head, he mutters, “I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later. When you’re not actin’ like this.”

Before you could respond, he hung up, his face disappearing from your screen, leaving you alone with nothing but the cold light of your phone. Your hands shook as you stared at the blank screen, tears finally spilling over.

With trembling fingers, you took a breath, letting a cold, steely calm settle over you. You typed out a simple, blunt message, leaving no room for second-guessing, no room for soft words or explanations. Just the truth, as raw as you felt.

“We’re done. I can’t do this anymore, Ben. I’m sorry.”

Your thumb lingered for a second before hitting “send,” and as soon as the message went through, you blocked him on every platform, cutting off any way for him to respond, to apologise, to convince you otherwise.

But as you tossed your phone aside, a crack appeared in the calm you’d forced on yourself. The tears came suddenly, your breath hitching as a tidal wave of heartbreak surged through you. You buried your face in your hands, pressing your palms against your eyes as if you could somehow contain the emotions clawing their way to the surface. You tried to stay quiet, muffling the sound in the dark, but the weight was too much, every sob raw, grieving and heavy, pouring out the frustration, the loneliness, and the love you’d tried so hard to salvage.

By the time your tears subsided, you felt utterly drained, hollowed out in a way that made everything around you feel distant and surreal. The city lights flickered outside your window, the glow indifferent to the storm that had torn through you. And in that quiet, broken moment, with only the shadows as company, you lay there, letting the exhaustion seep through your bones until sleep claimed you.

When sleep finally came, it was restless, fractured. You tossed and turned, flashes of memories from better days with Ben haunting you, the sound of his laugh, the way he’d smile, gummy and wide, his nose scrunching with that easy confidence. You woke up more exhausted than when you’d closed your eyes, feeling like you hadn’t rested at all. But you forced yourself out of bed, pushing yourself through your pre-game routine, your emotions locked away, frozen under layers of determination.

As you walked onto the court, the crowd buzzed with excitement, but you barely registered it. You were a storm, calm on the surface but seething underneath. Every shot you took was hard and brutal, the ball slicing through the air with an intensity that made your opponent flinch, the impact echoing through the stadium. You played as if your life depended on it, your body moving with sharp, lethal precision.

Your serves were relentless, your groundstrokes vicious, each one faster, sharper, as if each shot were a way to expel the anger and hurt still simmering in your chest. The crowd murmured, noticing the shift in your energy, the way you were pushing yourself, almost recklessly. A couple of times, your shots zipped past your opponent’s hand, barely missing, almost daring her to try and reach for it - "try me". You were untouchable, unstoppable, playing like you had something to prove.

But there was no smile, no hint of joy in your movements, solely mechanical. The usual lightness in your footwork was gone, replaced by a cold, ruthless efficiency. You’d already decided: this match was yours. You weren’t here to give an inch, weren’t here to let any lingering emotions cloud your focus. The crowd might have wanted excitement, but you were giving them precision, a display of control and fury that left no room for doubt.

You won, of course. Your opponent barely had a chance. But as you walked off the court, sweat trickling down your brow, fists clenched, you felt no thrill in the victory. Just the dull ache that lingered, a hollow space where your lightness, your smile, used to be. The heat of the court only made your head throb. The applause faded into background noise as you strode away, head high, shoulders tense. You’d won, but it felt like a hollow victory. You had no one to text after your game, anyone to call you baby - you had done it to yourself, were you really that desperate for a man to validate you? You were sick of feeling this way, sick of the exhaustion, the anger, the loneliness that clung to you even after everything you’d given today. At least, for now, you’d proven something, to yourself, to him, even if he’d never know, or care.

In the month that followed, you threw yourself harshly into your schedule, determined to erase any trace of him from your routine, your heart. Matches, training, travel, interviews, photoshoots, more matches, each day bled into the next, filled with an almost mechanical sense of purpose. If you weren’t on the court, you were working out, perfecting your strokes, spending hours on serves and footwork. Anything to exhaust yourself to stop the thoughts from lingering too long. Your routine was relentless, your focus razor-sharp.

But even in this frenzy, despite it all, reminders of him still slipped through. You’d scroll through social media, and every so often, an ATP post would pop up: Ben at a tournament, Ben celebrating a point, Ben grinning with that easy charm that used to make your heart ache. He looked different now. His curls were longer, spilling out from over his sweaty headband, and his frame had hardened, leaner, with muscle that seemed to outline his strength in sharper lines. His chubby cheeks had slimmed down into something harder, replaced by the quiet confidence of someone who’d grown, adapted, maybe even suffered a little.

And you could almost feel it, the quaking, gaping pain of missing him, but you’d swallow it back down, pull yourself together, and look away.

Your own press conferences became something else entirely. You were more composed, a bit sharper with your words, confident in a way you hadn’t been before. Where you used to smile shyly or laugh softly, now you leaned in with humour, a hint of flirtation, your charm more self-assured. You handled reporters’ questions deftly, especially the ones that tried to pry about Ben. The same questions came up over and over:

“So, do you still keep in touch with Ben?”

Each time, you’d respond with a practised, cool smile. “Right now, I’ve got all the support I need from my team and the people I have with me.” You’d turn the conversation to your work, your skill, and your grind on the court, dismissing the topic with subtle elegance, always steering it back to your goals, your game, and your people.

Yet, away from the cameras, the facade cracked, if only slightly. Sometimes, after a long match or a particularly brutal day of training, you’d find yourself scrolling through your old photos or feeling tears prickling your eyes, this messy situation taking a bigger toll than you would like to admit.

In his hotel room, Ben watched your interviews alone, a faint crease between his brows. There you were, in all your brilliance, flashing a confident smile at the camera, handling the press with a wit and boldness that felt both familiar and strange. He could see the way you’d grown, the way you’d steeled yourself, and it stirred something in him, a pang he couldn’t ignore. It was like watching someone he knew intimately and yet… not at all. The way you answered questions about him, and your subtle redirection to your career and team, it stung. Maybe it was petty, but he missed the way you used to talk about him with such pride, with that lovestruck glow. He loved seeing how shy you would get at the sheer mention of his name. Your hair was different, your skin glowing, you had more confidence, even if it came off a bit cocky but he still felt like you were his, just as much as he was yours. Ben didn’t know how to reach out, didn’t know what he’d even say. There was a distance now, both physical and emotional, that seemed impossible to bridge. He’d scroll through his own phone sometimes, finding old messages, ones before distance got the better of you both, photos of the two of you, half-written scripts in his Notes app he couldn’t bring himself to deliver. If he flew out tonight to you, what would he even do after? He’d think of calling you, of reaching out somehow, but the memory of your last fight, the bitterness in your voice, the way you’d shut him out… it held him back.

One evening, as you sat alone in the players' lounge, your forehead pressed against the back of the sofa, you felt that familiar ache pulse through you, the one that came every time you thought of him. It was then that Coco came by, her familiar, steady presence filling the room as she settled down across from you, cross-legged on the seat in front of you. Over the past year, it was Ben that introduced you but, you and Coco had grown even closer, bound not just by shared victories and losses but by the pressures only someone like her could truly understand.

Coco tilted her head, her gaze warm but unwavering. “Alright,” she said, cutting through the silence. “What’s really going on? Are you… over him?”

You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I wish I could say yes,” you murmured. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to move on, focus on the game, on everything else, but… he’s still everywhere. Even when I’m doing well, even when I’m focused, it’s like… something’s missing.” Your voice dropped to barely a whisper. “It’s like I can’t fully shake him.”

Coco nodded, her expression both sympathetic and knowing. “I get it. You two had something real, something intense. But maybe this time apart is what you both need. I mean, look at you. You’re stronger now, on and off the court. Maybe that’s part of this whole journey, you know?”

You managed a faint smile, though your heart still felt heavy. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. It just… doesn’t always feel like enough.”

She reached out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me. If he’s the right guy, he’ll figure it out, too. Until then? Focus on your game. Focus on you.”

Her words stayed with you, offering a small but steady comfort in the days that followed. You have been throwing yourself into training, pouring everything into the sport, trying to find solace in each match and each moment of growth. Somewhere out there, he was doing the same, and maybe, just maybe, this was what was best.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t completely smother the small spark of hope, that someday, somehow, your paths might cross again.

It was similar in the men’s locker room, Ben slumped forward on the bench, his elbows propped on his knees as he stared blankly at the floor, holding an uncapped bottle of water. Frances Tiafoe, who’d been eyeing him from across the room, exchanged a knowing glance with Taylor Fritz before making his way over.

“Alright, bro, spill it,” Frances said, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he leaned in. “You’ve been lookin’ like you’re living in some sad dog for weeks.”

Ben gave him a sidelong glance. “There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

Taylor rolled his eyes as he joined them, settling down on the other side of Ben. “Come on, man. We’re not blind. Ever since she blocked you, you’ve been… different.”

Ben scoffed, looking away, his voice low. “She didn’t just block me, man. She… she threw down, real hard. Said some things I thought she’d never say.”

Frances let out a low whistle. “Was that rough, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, rubbing a hand over his face, his frustration mingling with regret. “It all just blew up. We were on a call, talkin’ like usual, and suddenly… it was like everything we hadn’t said just came out. She starts throwin’ things at me about how I’m not there, like… like I don’t care enough or not workin' hard enough. And it pissed me off, you know? I work just as hard, and it’s not like I’m sittin’ around, right?”

Taylor nodded, leaning back against the lockers. “So, what’d you do?”

Ben shrugged, his expression pained. “I pushed back, told her she couldn’t keep actin’ like she’s the only one workin’ for this. Told her ATP is just as tough, maybe even more competitive. Didn’t mean it that way, but she took it wrong. She thought I was tryin’ to downplay her game.”

Frances shook his head, giving Ben a sympathetic look. “Man, she must’ve felt hurt.”

“Yeah,” Ben muttered, a bitter laugh escaping him. “And next thing I know, I get this text. ‘This isn’t workin', we’re done.’ Blocked me on everything. Cold as ice, man. It’s like she flipped a switch, just… shut me out completely, as easy as shuttin' a door.”

Frances gave him a gentle nudge. “You still care about her?”

Ben’s gaze softened, a faint smile breaking through his frustration. “Yeah, man. She’s… she’s my girl. Even if she’s not my girl right now, you know?”

Taylor chuckled, nodding. “So, what’re you gonna do about it? Sit around here moping, or actually make a move?”

Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I supposed to do? She’s made it pretty clear she’s done with me.”

Frances grinned, crossing his arms. “Bro, just ‘cause she blocked you and sent a text after you called her game easy, doesn’t mean it’s over. She’s mad, yeah, but she’s probably missin’ you just as much. You just gotta show her you’re willin’ to do what it takes.”

Taylor nodded in agreement, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “And it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture, man. Sometimes, it’s the small things. Something to let her know you’re still thinkin’ of her, still care. You know where we're at next, right?”

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “And do what? Just show up at her hotel room? She’s liable to call cops on my ass for that shit, bro.”

Frances laughed, shrugging. “So what? At least she’ll know you tried! Don't go doin' that though. Look, I’ve been with my girl for years now, and sometimes, you gotta be willing to look like a fool to show her you care.”

Ben leaned back, their words sinking in. He could still feel the sting of the things she’d said, the accusations she’d thrown at him like he didn’t care, didn’t work just as hard. But he couldn’t deny that he’d made mistakes, too. He’d let his pride get in the way, said things he regretted, and let the frustration of it all get the better of him.

Frances nudged him again, his grin widening. “Think about it, man. You got two choices: sit here, feeling sorry for yourself until she finds some other guy, or actually do something about it and get her back, even if that means standing in the rain with a fuckin' speaker.”

Ben finally cracked a smile, looking between his friends. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

“Hey, maybe,” Taylor said with a shrug. “But at least we got girlfriends. And you? You got a chance to get yours back. Just gotta decide if she’s worth it.”

Ben sat there, mulling over their words as a new determination started to burn within him. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, and maybe there was a lot he’d have to figure out. But if there was even a chance to fix things, to bridge that gap that felt so wide, he wasn’t about to let his pride hold him back.

As he left the locker room that night, he felt a resolve solidify within him. He’d find a way to reach out, to let her know that no matter how far apart they were, she was still the one he wanted. Because when it came down to it, she was worth every bit of the fight.

A week went by before a 1000 game flew in, and both ATP and WTA were present if not, nearby for the games. You couldn't care less what was at stake, anything was a win if it kept you occupied. The courts were almost empty, shadows lengthening as the sun beamed high above. You bounced the ball steadily, the rhythm calm, your focus laser-sharp. The only sounds were the muted thud of your shoes on the court, and your breath falling into sync with the beat of your earbuds. Nothing but you, the court, and the quiet.

But then, that voice broke through.

"Aw, c'mon, man!" A laugh, deep and full of that unmistakable Southern drawl. Your grip faltered, the ball hovering mid-toss. That laugh, it was a sound you hadn’t let yourself think about for months, one that held too much of him.

Ben.

Your pulse jolted, the memories flooding back, warmth and bitterness tangled in the knots of your chest. You gritted your teeth, tossing the ball high before slamming it against the court, the crack of impact sharp in the quiet. It almost felt satisfying, like you could obliterate the tension he brought, shatter it with sheer force.

Almost.

You readied another serve, the ball bouncing harder than necessary as you forced yourself not to look. But you could feel his gaze, that familiar weight of his eyes lingering on you. The pull was magnetic, almost maddening, and despite every ounce of resolve you’d built up, your gaze betrayed you, slipping over to catch a glimpse of him.

Ben, laughing with Taylor, curls tousled longer than before, his hoodie slung carelessly over those familiar, ridiculous short shorts. The same hoodie you'd worn too many times to count, drowning in its warmth during late-night snack runs and lazy Sundays. The sight tugged painfully, a cruel reminder of the little things you’d pushed down, tried to forget.

He caught you looking, and his laughter faded, his gaze holding yours for just a second too long. You gripped the ball tighter, the ache settling heavy, and forced yourself to turn away, channelling the flurry of memories into another sharp serve, a fierce crack reverberating across the court. You didn’t look back again.

Hours later, your body was tired, your mind a bit clearer. You were scrolling through your phone in the lounge, zoning out, when Coco dropped down beside you with that familiar, mischievous grin.

"Hey, you!" She nudged you, hands on her hips.

You eyed her warily. "What’s up, Coco? Awfully perky for...5:30p.m."

“We’re having dinner tonight. Big group. Wanna come?” Her tone was casual, a little too casual.

Your guard went up immediately as you dropped your phone to your lap. “Who’s ‘we all’?”

Coco shrugged, twirling a loose curl around her finger. “Me, Frances, Arthur… maybe another WTA girl or two. Just a fun little dinner. Nothing formal.”

You narrowed your eyes, reading the glint of mischief in hers. "Coco, don’t mess with me. He's not gonna be there, right?"

She tilted her head, pretending to look innocent, but the sly smile gave her away. "Well… he might show up, but that's on his own accord. I didn't mention anything to Ben and it’s not like anyone’s setting anything up! It’s just dinner."

Your stomach twisted, a sigh slipping from your lips as you looked away. “I don’t think so. Not after… everything.” Your voice softened the weight of old arguments and unsaid things hanging between the words.

Coco’s face softened, her hand finding your shoulder. “Look, I’m not saying you have to sit next to him or anything. It’s a big table. You can stay on the opposite end and ignore him if that’s what you need. But everyone misses you, it’s been ages since we all got together. We all need to see your pretty face off the court too, ya know?”

You hesitated, rolling your eyes, the ache of missing them settling somewhere deep, the sense of family you hadn’t felt in months tugging at you. After a long pause, you finally nodded, rolling your shoulders back as if bracing for a match. “Fine. But I’m serious, Coco, no funny business. If he starts anything, I’m out.”

Coco grinned, throwing her arm around you. “Girl, trust me. If anything, you’ll be giving him the funny looks. Just friends, no drama. Now, let’s go get you out of those sweats.”

Meanwhile, in the locker room across the court, Ben was doing his best to act indifferent as Frances nudged him for the third time.

"C'mon, man!" Frances said, leaning against the lockers with a knowing grin. "So you are coming to this dinner tonight, right? Don't make me beg again, I'll start singing.”

Ben tried to play it cool, leaning back with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, man. You really think it’s a good idea?”

Frances rolled his eyes. “Look, you’ve been moping for months. She’s not gonna make a scene in public, and especially not with all of us, and who knows? Maybe she’ll talk to you, be all civil. It’s worth a shot.”

Ben let out a huff, rubbing the back of his neck. “Civil? You remember the last time we spoke, right? She has me blocked on everything.”

Taylor, stretching nearby, smirked and chimed in. “Man, you got nothin’ to lose. At the very least, you’ll see her. I saw how you were after you caught a glimpse of her training earlier. Besides, Frances and Coco will keep her from killin’ you.”

“Kay, thanks,” Ben muttered, though a flicker of hope sparked under the sarcasm. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t shake the longing to see her again, to maybe fix even a sliver of what had been broken.

Taylor nudged him, grinning. “Hey, listen, if I wasn’t taking Morgan out tonight, I’d be there just for moral support. But hey, maybe next time it’ll be a double date. Me, you, Morgan and your soon-to-be girlfriend, just like old times.”

Ben shook his head, the thought both terrifying and oddly thrilling. “You’re jokin’, right? She’d probably throw her drink at me before she’d sit through a double date.”

“Only if you act like an idiot,” Frances pointed out, laughing. “Just be yourself, man. You can handle the heat on the court, you can handle this. And maybe tonight’ll be the thing that finally breaks the ice.”

Ben sighed, running a hand over his face before finally surrendering. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll go. But Frances, don’t expect me to be all… chatty.”

Frances clapped him on the back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, you say that now. But I know how you get around her, man. Just don’t chicken out. Remember, we got your back.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile nervously, feeling a strange mix of dread and anticipation tighten in his chest. He wasn’t sure if this dinner would be a chance at redemption or just a painful reminder of how far they’d drifted, but one thing was clear, he was tired of hiding from whatever was left between them.

You walk into the restaurant and let Coco lead you to a long table, feeling an odd mix of nerves and determination fluttering in your stomach. Your outfit is cute but simple, just a sweater and leggings; just enough effort to feel put together without trying too hard. You take a seat between Coco and Arthur Fils, with Frances across from you. There’s an empty chair across from Arthur, and for some reason, that empty space makes your heart beat a little faster, feeling torn between wanting and avoiding Ben there.

As everyone settles in, you catch Coco’s eye and mutter, “Please tell me he’s not actually coming.” She just shrugs with an easy smile.

Moments later, as the group banters along, about to order drinks, Ben strolls in, catching you entirely off-guard. He’s slightly out of breath, apologising to the group with that familiar grin, explaining he’s late because he’d just finished showering after practice. You can’t help it, you nudge Coco under the table, whispering through gritted teeth, a frustrated, “Great.”

Coco just gives him a casual greeting, and you force yourself to turn back to the table, focusing your attention on ordering a glass of wine, pretending not to notice him as he takes that empty seat across from Arthur, just barely within your view, diagonally. But as he sits down, you feel his eyes on you, and for a brief moment, you glance up and catch him staring, his face almost dazed.

You’re caught off-guard by the look in his eyes. His breath seems to hitch, his big brown eyes wide and you can see a faint blush creeping up his neck as he stares at you, almost like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. There’s a softness in his expression that you weren’t prepared for, a kind of awe that makes your stomach twist with memories and longing. But just as quickly, you look away, turning your attention to your wine as Frances elbows Ben with a teasing hiss, “Be normal, man.”

Throughout the night, you manage to keep to yourself, mostly talking to the other WTA players or Arthur whenever he cracks a joke. You keep Ben at the edge of your vision, resolute in ignoring the way his gaze keeps drifting back to you.

Every once in a while, Ben attempts to draw you into the conversation, maybe a lighthearted comment or a direct question, but each time, you meet his gaze with a steely look, making it clear with just one glance that you’re not interested. When he tries again, you let your eyes meet his for a moment, long enough to show him you’re serious before turning away, cutting off his effort entirely, almost to say "not interested". Across the table, Frances raises his brows, murmuring with a barely hidden smirk, “Damn, she is good at this,” as Ben slouches slightly, clearly trying not to look embarrassed.

As dinner winds down, the plates are cleared away, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment alone. Inside, you take a deep breath, facing yourself in the mirror. You’d been bracing yourself for tonight, but nothing quite prepared you for how it would feel to see him sitting right there, looking at you with those big sweet brown eyes and a pout, filled with that same soft pleading that used to make you melt.

But tonight, all it did was remind you of those late nights waiting by your phone, checking it over and over for messages that came slower and slower until they just…stopped. It reminds you of the countless hours wondering if you mattered as much as you thought you did, replaying his empty promises and half-hearted reassurances that seemed to fade with each passing day. He couldn't expect you to take him back with a pout and some half-assed joke. But damn, was it a good attempt, he knew how to make you crumble, even if it wasn't his sole intention.

You force yourself to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you look in the bathroom mirror examining yourself with a sigh, applying a bit of lip balm with fingers that tremble just slightly. Anything to distract yourself, to remind yourself that you’re strong enough to face this without breaking, reminding yourself to keep that mask on. You straighten your posture, determined to push all those memories back down where they belong, buried.

But just as you step out of the bathroom, Ben is standing right there, leaning against the wall as if he’d been waiting for you. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours, and he opens his mouth, his voice just a whisper. “Can we…talk? Just the two of us?”

The look he gives you, hopeful, no, desperate, stirs something deep inside you, and you clench your jaw, wanting to say no, wanting to walk away without a second thought. But as much as you’d like to ignore it, part of you still aches for some kind of closure, maybe even just one honest conversation.

With a reluctant sigh, you nod. “Fine. Outside.”

As you head out the restaurant’s door, you quickly fire off a text to Coco:

me n Ben talking outside. brb.

You stuff your phone back into your bag, clutching it tightly to your shoulder as you step into the cool night air. Wrapping your arms under your chest, you try to keep yourself shielded from more than just the chilling breeze.

Ben falls into step beside you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. There’s a moment of silence as you both find your footing, the quiet thick with everything that’s been left unsaid. You glance sideways, catching him opening his mouth like he’s about to say something, only to close it, his shoulders shifting awkwardly.

“So… how’s the tournament going for you?” he starts, his tone casual, a little too casual.

You blink, trying not to roll your eyes, feeling the irritation growing. Really? But you bite back and just sternly say, “Ben.”

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing up at the streetlights overhead. “Sorry, yeah, that was- uh, okay.” He lets out a breath and shuffles closer, his voice almost a murmur. “I just… I wanna make this right. Another chance- Just thought maybe… you know, talkin’ would be easier if…”

“Ben, stop.” You sigh, tightening your grip on your bag strap. “Stop being weird. Just… just say what you have to say, and let’s get this over with. Let's not make this longer than it needs to be, I've got shit to do tomorrow.”

He glances at you, brows knitting together. For a second, he looks almost frustrated, like he’s holding back something sharper, something rougher. But he lets it pass, letting out a long, resigned breath. “Fine. I’ll just ask one thing.”

You arch an eyebrow, scepticism thick in your voice. “One question. Shoot.”

His voice comes out softer, edged with a hesitant curiosity as if he knows it’s a stupid question but can’t help but ask. “What hotel you stayin’ at?”

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “The Merrion.”

His eyes widen slightly, a small, stupid smile breaking on his face. “No way… me too.”

You sigh, looking up at the night sky, feeling the inevitability of whatever this night is becoming. Of course, he’s at the same hotel. Only Ben could make the universe align like this. And only Ben would think of a stupid question like that. He shifts his weight, stepping closer, his gaze steady.

“Look,” he starts, “it’s just a short walk back, twenty minutes or so. Just… give me that time. Just enough to walk back. Let me talk. And then you can go to your room and go to bed. How 'bout it?”

There’s a hopeful edge in his voice that you can’t ignore, and for a moment, your resolve falters. It’s ridiculous, this is exactly the sort of thing he would come up with, some half-baked plan to get you to keep listening, to keep him around just a little longer. You want to roll your eyes, to brush him off, but something about the way he’s looking at you, those earnest, brown eyes so damn full of longing, makes you sigh.

“Fine,” you mutter. “But if you get weird again, I’m out. No small talk, you know how much I hate it.”

A small grin creeps onto his face, and he falls into step beside you, a little closer than necessary, his arm brushing against yours as you start down the quiet street. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, just walks alongside you, letting the silence settle around you both. But then, in that familiar southern drawl, his voice comes softer.

“Y’know, I've been thinkin’ ‘bout us a lot… probably more than I should.”

You keep your eyes on the sidewalk ahead, willing yourself to stay unmoved. “And?”

He swallows, his gaze tracing your profile, softening with each word. “I messed up,” he admits. “I know I did. I shoulda… been there more, answered more, I dunno. Shoulda been better at handlin’ it.”

You nod slightly, keeping your face blank. “Mhm, you should've.”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his expression, but he doesn’t let it throw him off. “You think I didn’t feel it too? That whole time, it felt like- hell, like I was losin’ you, like somethin’ was slippin’ right outta my hands, and I couldn’t do nothin’ to stop it.”

You feel the tension in your shoulders loosen just a fraction, though you keep your arms folded as a kind of armour. His words settle into the silence, raw and rough, and you can feel him glancing over, waiting for some kind of response. But you keep your gaze forward, biting back the little stirrings of emotion that are beginning to creep in.

He keeps talking, voice low and steady, drawing you in without giving you a chance to look away. “I’m not tryin’ to make excuses, alright? I know I coulda tried harder. But it’s like… the more I tried, the harder it got. The distance, the time zones, the schedules… it all just made me feel like I couldn’t keep up. And I just didn't know how to juggle it and that's my fault.”

You shake your head slightly, finally glancing over at him, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of your mouth. “So this is your way of apologising?”

He laughs, a little sheepish. “Guess I’m not real good at it, huh?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a familiar, easy gesture that makes your arms slowly loosen. His hand brushes your arm, just for a second, and a warmth blooms where his fingers graze your skin as if your body’s memory of him can’t help but respond.

“Look,” he says, his voice dipping softer, “I just… I miss you so much. Like hell.”

The honesty in his tone hits you hard, unravelling the cold exterior you’ve worked so hard to keep up. He keeps his eyes on you, watching your face carefully as if gauging your reaction. You feel your resolve slipping even more, your arms slowly falling to your sides, your heart aching as you fight against the wave of warmth that’s threatening to break through.

“Ben…” you start, barely a whisper, but you don’t know what to say, feeling torn.

He moves a little closer, his eyes wide, pleading, like he’s trying to hold onto every inch of you he can. “I know I messed up, okay? But I don’t wanna lose you. Not for good. Please, Y/N. Give me one more chance, you won't regret it 'n if I fuck up bad, you can do whatever, however; I deserve it but please. Just one more chance.”

You press your lips tight together, feeling your heart tighten as his words sink in, as he stands there looking at you with that same vulnerability you’d once fallen in love with. For a second, you forget the hurt, the sleepless nights, and you’re left with just him, the version of him that’s open, sincere, the Ben you’d once held so close.

The walk to the hotel stretches out as he keeps talking, spilling out and laying his heart bare with that easy, boyish charm that only he can pull off, and little by little, you feel your icy exterior start to melt. He talks about his time away from you, how he admired you from videos, watched highlight reels, his endless hours at night going through photos and texts; the whole lot. He cracks a joke, and despite yourself, you smile, trying to hide it but failing. He nudges you again, grinning as he sees the hint of laughter breaking through your guard.

He apologises over and over, more earnestly each time, his voice steady and low, and you can hear the regret, the guilt, the need to make things right. By the time you reach the hotel entrance, you’re feeling something dangerously close to hope, your heart betraying you, making it harder and harder to keep up the facade.

You glance over at him, catching the way his eyes soften as he looks at you as if you’re the only thing he can see. He’s staring, the blush from earlier creeping back up his neck, and when his hand brushes yours one last time, you don’t pull away.

You stand just outside the hotel, a faint chill brushing past as the streetlights cast a warm glow around you. You shift on your feet, glancing up at him, your eyes soft but determined.

“Can I talk?” you ask, breaking the quiet, your voice barely above a whisper. The first thing you had actually said this entire time.

Ben raises an eyebrow, leaning in with a playful smirk. “Talk? What else have we been doin’ for the last twenty minutes, girl?”

You roll your eyes and reach out to smack his arm, earning a chuckle from him. “Fine then. Can we go up to your room?” you add, a small, daring smile tugging at your lips.

Ben’s eyebrow quirks higher. “My room, huh?” His gaze narrows, teasing you with that familiar glint. “What exactly ya got planned, sweetheart?”

You swat him again, harder this time, and he laughs, raising his hands in mock defence. But then you drop the smile, your voice softer. “I wanna talk about what I did, Ben. I messed up too.”

The teasing fades from his expression as he studies your face, searching. After a pause, he nods and gestures toward the lobby. “Alright, then. Let’s go talk.”

In the elevator, silence hangs thick in the air, tension as familiar as it is unspoken. You don't even notice, spending your time stilling your breath and running through everything you want to apologise for. When you reach his room, you head over to the small couch by the window and settle in, tucking your legs under you and giving him a steady look.

“Ya gettin’ comfortable already?” he jokes, leaning against the wall, his eyes dancing with that old spark that makes you ache.

You try not to smile, steeling yourself for your confessional. “Can you be serious for a minute?”

His smile fades as he walks over, sitting across from you, his gaze intense and focused. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you’ve held back.

“I shouldn’t have put so many expectations on you,” you begin, your voice wavering. “You’ve got your own life, your own competitions, your own dreams. All this constant travelling, the different time zones… it’s not fair to expect you to be there every time I needed you at the drop of a hat. You get burnt out too- God. I never even asked how you were before I'd launch into my own day.”

You bite your lip, blinking back tears as they start to blur your vision. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve been more understanding, given you more grace.” Your voice catches, barely a whisper now. “And what I said… on that call… it was cruel, Ben. I was mean and unfair, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it. At all. I wouldn't want myself back after all I had said and done.”

As a tear slips down your cheek, Ben’s face softens, and he reaches out without hesitation, his hands cupping your face as he brushes the tear away. His thumb lingers on your skin, his gaze is unwavering, and then he leans forward, pressing the gentlest kiss to your temple, another to your forehead, and a final one at the crown of your head, his hand resting tenderly against your hair.

You let out a shuddered breath, your hands covering his as you finally let everything pour out. “I miss you so much,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I miss everything about you… the way you laugh, your ridiculous voice…” Another tear rolls down, and you don’t try to hold back. “I miss the way you’d talk about cars or food for ages, and you’d make everything feel so normal, even when my life was a mess. Without you, it’s like this haze I can’t shake. I just… I miss you. I barely recognise myself these days.”

Your body shakes with the sobs you’ve tried so hard to bury, and Ben doesn’t hesitate. He pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he could shield you from all the pain, all the regret. He holds you there, one hand smoothing over your hair, his lips pressing soft, tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks, murmuring gentle words against your skin.

“S’all right, darlin’,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

You cling to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, as his hands trace soothing circles along your back. Your sobs gradually quiet, but your breaths are still shaky, each exhale unsteady.

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” you manage, voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Hey now,” he murmurs, his tone warm and grounding. “We both made mistakes. Ain’t just on you, alright? Takes two to mess up, but it takes two to fix it too. We can fix, can't we?”

You nod, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, feeling a little of the weight lift, softened by his words.

Ben tilts your head to hold your gaze, his own eyes glassy. “Can’t tell ya how many times I thought about callin’ ya or flying to ya,” he admits, his voice low. “How many times I’d pull up your name, wonderin’ what you’d say if I told ya all the things I wished I’d said. But I was… hell, I was scared, darlin’. Thought maybe I’d screwed up too bad, and you’d moved on.”

You shake your head, a small, breathy laugh escaping. “I couldn’t...I could never.”

He strokes your hair gently, his lips brushing your forehead once more. “Guess we’re both a couple of fools then, huh?”

You laugh softly, the sound wet and trembling as he pulls you back into his arms. You lean into him, letting yourself feel the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart, grounding you. Wrapped in the quiet, tangled together, you both hold on a little tighter, feeling the rawness of your honesty and the comfort of finally, finally being close again. In the safety of his arms, you feel, for the first time in so long, a sense of peace, letting the unspoken words settle around you like a quiet promise.

Ben’s hand rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles as he learns your face all over again, making your heart flutter. His fingers move slowly, grazing down to your jaw, then up again, threading into your hair. You let your eyes close for a moment, his gentle touch working its way through the tension of the night, and a small, contented sigh escapes you. For the first time in weeks, you feel relaxed and content.

“Gettin’ comfortable, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, though there’s a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He leans in, giving one final push to a stray strand of your hair before tilting his head toward the bed across the room. “C’mon, darlin’. This couch is barely holdin’ us together.”

You hesitate, but Ben’s already moving, holding out his hand as he stands up. His grip is strong, guiding you as you follow him to the bed, and he lets out a soft chuckle as you settle beside him. His arm drapes around you, pulling you close as you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you. The warmth is so consuming, cocooning you immediately.

Ben smiles down at you, a playful glint in his eye, and as his fingers find your hair again, he starts twirling a strand between his fingers. “So,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “ya still gonna keep me blocked, huh?”

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Fine,” you reply, unlocking your phone with a playful huff. You find his name, well, technically his new contact name since you’d deleted him in a fit of anger, and type a single white heart emoji, pressing send.

The vibration of his phone buzzes beside him, and he pulls it out with a grin, holding up the glowing screen. “There it is. Knew ya couldn’t resist me,” he says, laughing as he pulls you in close as he kisses your temple.

But just as you relax against him, you notice a missed notification. It’s a text from Coco, her reply to your earlier message asking where she’d disappeared to after dinner. You hesitate, then, instead of texting back, you tap the Facetime icon, feeling a strange urge to share this quiet moment, finding words couldn't suffice, nor were you in the mood to type out a lengthy paragraph.

The call connects, and Coco’s face appears, a gasp escaping her as she spots you two tangled up in Ben’s bed, nestled together with his arm around you.

“Oh my god! Yes!” she cheers, loud enough to make Ben chuckle. You hear laughter and cheers in the background too, and Coco turns the camera, revealing the whole dinner table watching with knowing smiles.

"Coco, this was a set-up plan, huh?" you giggle as you see the entire friend group on the other end.

"Somewhat, but blame Morgan and Taylor, not me. They did all that," she throws the blame as she points the camera over to them. Frances, Morgan and Taylor wave and Frances yells “Look at Ben! Already got her in bed, huh?”

Ben rolls his eyes, but a faint blush colours his cheeks. He pulls you closer, his hand resting protectively around your shoulders as he grins.

“Hey now,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “This one’s special. Ain’t like any other. My lucky charm.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you’re so focused on him that you barely notice Coco and the others making gagging noises before Ben reaches out, ending the call on your phone with a smirk. Then he turns back to you, his eyes soft, filled with something that feels dangerously like forever.

He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender, each second lingering with quiet promises. And in the warmth of his arms, your heart finally feels at home, exactly where it belongs.

[hazbinhappy]

Hello, could you write for Husk with a wife reader who comes to visit him at the hotel since she misses him? She’s also a cat demon with a very similar personality to him, and when she visits the hotel, it’s the main casts first time they’ve ever heard of her, except Alastor. Also, the reader hates Alastor because he owns her husband’s soul.

A/N: I love these requests when I see them in his tag :) i think she'd have an opposing/inverse look to him

I have a feeling when alive his wife was a sweetheart, but a touch one while he was prideful gambler

She’s the one who handled the finances once it hit bad she wanted them and their kids to still be able to live so he had an allowance

Anyways, she died probably from terminal illness later in life post-Husk’s death, I don’t think she’d have gone down without a fight

For the why she's in Hell? Idk them having their first kid outta wedlock? Something stupid I assure her because Husk complained a lot in his earlier days about not having you and how you’re probably in heaven

Now when she did arrive in Hell only a decade or so after Husk, he was her first find

Life was fine with an overlord husband, but she definitely chastised him for when he lost all of the souls he had and his own

He still was able to do what he wanted so they stuck together, but when he disappeared and she couldn’t find him she got worried

She’d never think to check that shitty broken down hotel….but the lights are on? What- is that Husk in a commercial for this hotel?!

She immediately stomped her way there and knocked harshly at the door

She didn’t smile, even when met with the face of the sweet princess of Hell

She pushed her way in immediately scanning the lobby, looking for Husk

Alastor scares the shit out of her when he comes out of the shadows

She starts to go off on him about taking her husband and hiding him from her for the last week

Alastor rolls his eyes and simply pointed towards the bar

As much as she didn’t like him, he didn’t like her and tried to keep their conversations short (he wasn’t able to break her down like he did with Husk, but he owns Husk)

When they reunited it was…. Well she was happy and hugged him, but immediately got angry at how he didn’t put his phone to use at all (I headcanon that he’s shit with technology and if he uses his phone it’s for calls, texts, and playing like solitaire or gambling games)

But after all the anger passed people had questions! Except Alastor, she was there when he took Husk’s soul (embarassinggggg)

Husk doesn’t reveal much about himself EVER to people (only Angel knows he used to be an Overlord)

She’s the more open one out of them

Think of Rosie, but just more… idk tough? Mix Rosie and Husk and that is what I think his wife would be like

So she doesn’t reveal too much, but she definitely is more open, but just as vague

Vaggie doesn’t have too many questions, but everyone else does (Mainly Charlie, but Angel isn’t too far behind with the questions)

So far, everyone just knows they’re married and that Husk is definitely a sweetie behind doors

I think Angel and Nifty are really the only too who knows a bit more about them and that’s because they remind her of their kids (in a world where I don’t ship HuskerDust)

[almightycrisprat]

(spoilers for the final arc come later, for some reason when in the tags the expand post button comes up way too early, (it works fine on my blog) so ive marked it with colours and in bold and stuff just in case beforehand. really dont wanna spoil the final arc that is one hell of a story)

oh yea couldnt find anyone else did this but. i uploaded the entire ranma series in english (updated viz translation instead of old viz translation then fan translation) onto internet archive here if you ever wanna check it out)

i think its cool to be able to read both the official translation and the fan translation because theres aspects i definitely prefer from both

(while checking something i believe the fan translation got removed from internet archive? please tell me if otherwise but the link i had before was this. for preservations sake (even tho the fan translation is the more common one) ill probably upload it later even tho my copies are kinda ass bc idk compression did some wild crap to my pdfs lol)

anyway funny difference from old viz translation compared to the new one you probably wouldnt have noticed unless youre slightly not normal about ranma like me

they changed the way they translated a couple things, like the tendo practice hall changing to the tendo dojo and "the saotome school of indiscriminate grappling" to "the saotome school of anything goes martial arts". probably a change made to fit in with the anime or something idk. anything goes has a better ring to it. im guessing dojo is because it sounds better and ig more people are aware of the concept nowadays so

also notice hiroshis face here in the second panel lol they really just. did that

also fan translation thing vs official translation

(crazy spoilers for the final ranma manga arc below (FROM VOLUME 38!!!!!) )

official translation:

fan translation

like i know the extra text in the akane smiling and ranma in a black hole panels was a creative liberty taken by the fan translators bc it wasnt even in the original japanese (i actually checked. i dont know japanese but like. there was no text there soooo) but this was how i read the manga for the first time and god it absolutely broke me..... i was sobbing just like ranma at this point

also honorable mention how the fan translators handled onomatopoeia..... aguh... gwufa? ooga? whoa. ranma you are such a silly guy the official translation wasnt nearly as silly

[imustbenuts]

nuts reading trigun in japanese 6 - kaite's foreshadowing. plant synchronization's downside

remember in my part 3 and 5 i was talking about hierarchy? surprisingly, it continues past chapter 8 with kaite. and wolfwood. triangulating nyoom

(to be honest... ive been doing these read and analysis completely blind in a 1st JP read through. so its possible ill find new nuances, get things wrong as the context shifts and changes, so my stuff looks like its scattered all over the place. sorry about that.)

i think ill start explaining names and meanings. kaite's name in japanese is kaito. カイト. this can be a homonym with i think 怪盗 (kaitou) in this case, which means phantom thief. for trying to help Neon with stealing loot from the Sand Steamer.

left bubble next to neon: 道案内は的確だったかね！？ I trust your guide has been giving you clear instructions?

^the headaches with manga translations has always been to keep texts short and reasonable for flow and readability, so these simplifications can and sometimes must happen.

but, add dakutens, the " on 2 of those カイト katakanas and suddenly, kaito turns into. ガイド gaido. Guide.

so Kaite has been playing as a guide to lead vash to his death at the hands of Neon. this page is such a fucking whammy with the wordplay going on. if you just read this in japanese theres a moment of "oh shit, no way, Kaite, vash just told you to stop betraying people! what the hell!"

yet theres a level of trust going on already, so its not as bad as it seems

nightow really likes his worldplay. i really like this page.

kaite redeems himself by later charging into the boiler room and helps turn the valve to stop the sand steamer from running off cliff and killing everyone on board....

hm. a guide. and those sequences

we sure have a lot of guides here. one who appears in the manga later with a kansai dialect. and another in TriStamp, where he is younger than he appears.

when i spoke about hierarchy and the fact that vash is over 150, i was also kind of hinting that all of current humanity are akin to children in the system of JP hierarchy. that takes on extra meaning with a little change of context and language

wolfwood is filling in the shoes of kaito here in tristamp. and within trimax, kaito foreshadows him. incredible.

theres actually more going on with wolfwood and certain design/changes choices i wanna talk about with tristamp but ill save it for another day. maybe when i run into him in this read later

Plant Synchronization downside.

....so theres a bad downside to vash synchronizing with the plant that i didn't catch. which also answers what the fuck was going on in tristamp when that version of him hits the ground

nightow mentions this in an interview, link here posted and transcribed by xoxo-otome (thank you!) that he likes action flicks and has incorporated a lot of action into his work. and its true. there is so much action in the form of sound effects.

reading through the entire manga and paying attention to the sfx peppered around offers a lot more context to whats happening in half of the panels that seemingly doesnt make sense

like this one where the top panel has "DADADADADA" sfx. so they're stomping down the corridor with their guns crossed and facing each other. the "GO OH" in the bottom panel emphasizes the sudden burst into open air. unfortunately, anyone who values their life and sanity in this economy will not want to translate trigun's sfxs 100%.

i should have paid more attention when reading trigun in english. but i didn't so here i am. in the trigunbookclub tag now doing this.

why is it important? here. this. below. when vash does his plant thing with his sister:

see those heart panels? i tried searching real quick but nobody seems to have pointed this out. i havent seen this in EN fanfics. maybe i missed it. maybe im stupid:

thats Dokun, the sound effect of a heart thumping. as vash synchronizes, the heart panels with the same sound effect appear, but they gradually split apart further with ellipses "..." to signify his heart beat slowing down. and down. and down....

Dokun, do kun, do... kun....

then the wings comes out. and the panel below it:

sfx: PIIIIIIIIIII

breathes. a FLAT LINE.

aaaaaaAA?!

何かなんだかわかりません I'm not sure what's going on. とにかくプラントの動きは一切止まっています But the Plant's movement has completely stopped. 同時に男にも呼吸　心音ともに停止してます It's the same with that man. His breathing and heartbeat sounds like it's stopped with the plant too.

AAAAA?!!?! the も means vash is in the same state as the plant?

i.... um. um.,, ANYWAY-

AAAAAAAAAAAA?! HUH?! HUH??? HUH?!

is THIS why he has a metal grate over his heart? something happened and he an an operation on his heart???? by some engineer maybe? what? huh? am i reading this wrong? what? wait, hello? HEY!!!

what the fuck. okAY--?!

and then he just. pretends like nothing's happened. doesnt tell kaito anything. and he leaves the Sand Steamer.

and im going to have to sleep bc its 5 am now and pretend like i didnt just realize something this big right in front of my eyes during the first read.

[hearts4golbach]

The 7Eleven. (Jake Webber x Fem!Reader.)

reccomendation from @dreamcastgirl99 (i cant find their account to tag.)

i traced the lines of jakes tattoos, waiting impatiently for him to get done editing his new video. these always took forever, and i was sick of sitting around and scrolling on tiktok. i traced over the edges of the 3 8-bit hearts on his inner forearm with my nail, gently digging into his skin.

he giggled, "that tickles."

i rolled my eyes," you need to hurry! im so bored and im ready to go on our date. its our 5 year anniversary." i reminded him.

"im just as excited as you are." he gently kissed my forehead, "im finishing up the lsdt bit, then we can go. go get your shoes and shit on."

i yawned and did as told without any response. as i walked away, jake suspisciously pulled out his phone and began texting. i decided to think nothing of it, shrugging it off and grabbing my favorite beat up converse. i pursed my lips together as i laced up my shoes, suddenly nervous. jake had been distant recently, but nothing had changed in our relationship prior, as far as i knew, my stomach tingled.

"you okay, babe? you got weirdly quiet." jake called. i heard footsteps coming my way.

"yeah, sorry, i was just thinking." i looked up at him, giving him an awkwrd smile before tying up my other shoe.

"ill be right back." he said, walking out of the bedroom. he came back quickly, jangling the keys in his hand. "ready, babe?"

I nodded and he grabbed my hand, intertwining his fingers in line. no matter what Jake did or how long we were together, I still got butterflies like the first week we began dating. over the years, jake had never lost any enthusiasm in the relationship. yeah, he had his rough days with work but he was never difficult with me.

the sun was just starting to go down. I hopped in the passenger seat of Jake's car and quickly strapped on my seat belt. "are we stopping by 7-Eleven?" I asked.

"always." he smirked, reversing out of the driveway and turning down onto the street.

me and Jake met at 7-Eleven. I was having a sjitty day and yelled at him because he was taking too long to get his nachos. he felt bad and paid for my nachos, against my protests, and ended up getting my number. I'm sure you can guess how the rest of that went.

jake turned our mixed playlist on shuffle, turning it up loud before rolling the windows down. keeping one hand on the wheel, jake let his arm rest outside of the window. the warm, late summer breeze spilled in through the windows. I heard crickets singing their lullabies in the grass, the sound of other cars swooshing past, and the sound of jake humming along to whatever song was playing. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, enjoying the peaceful moment with jake. I pulled out my phone to take a picture of the scenery. tall city buildings were a dark contrast against the setting sun, making me feel warm inside. I posted the photo to my Instagram story and shut off my phone, putting it on do not disturb. jake gently nodded his head along with the song and placed his hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into my skin. I quickly took a photo of that too, planning to post it later. our soft breaths were in sync as our hair fluttered in the wind. I looked at him and smiled, enjoying every moment and small detail.

we pulled into the parking spot closest to the door and quickly got out. he came around and opened the door for me, placing a kiss on my forehead.

I walked inside, making a b-line for the energy drinks with jake by my side. I got a redbull, per usual, and he got his favorite flavor of monster.

"you should try something else." he teased, gently elbowing me.

I rolled my eyes. "you can't even talk, jakey."

he visibly cringed. he's always hated it when I called him 'jakey' which made it even funnier whenever I did it to shut him up.

he continued to grab our usual snacks, which were just takis and gummy worms before we made our way towards the nachos. he had my combo memorized, as I had his. he made our nachos as I stalked around the aisles, seeing if there were any other things we should try or get again. he found me about a minute later, gesturing for me to come on so we could leave.

as we were walking up to the register, he leaned down to whisper in my ear, "what do you think about going to the park?"

"won't we get butt fucked by mosquitoes?" I asked with a smile.

"I have bug spray, silly." he pursed his lips together and tapped my nose.

I laughed and swatted his hand away. "sounds fun."

as we got back into the car, we repeated the same ritual we always had. music, windows down, and some form of touch. it was a less than 5 minute drive to a small, local park that we have had a couple picnic dates in. picnic dates were my favorite, even though I wasn't an out-doorsy person.

"how are your nachos?" Jake smirked.

"uh, good?" I responded awkwardly, confused at the question.

"youre cute when youre shy, have i ever told you that?" his gaze softened.

i looked down at my food before looking back at him. "yeah," i giggled.

he stood up to throw away the bag and stood in front of me when he came back. "y/n/n, you're the love of my life. I wouldn't have made it as far as I have without you. you're my anchor and I have no idea what I'd do without you." he took my hands.

I laughed awkwardly. "if I didn't have you, I don't know where I'd be." I added. "but, where's this coming from?"

"you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I know that's corny." he laughed. "but, I love you, y/n." he got down on one knee and reached into his pocket, making my heart skip a beat. the next events happened in slow motion as he pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it up, revealing a beautiful ring. "will you marry me?"

i felt tears begin to sting my eyes. my hands flew over my mouth as i began to cry. i nodded quickly, not able to form any words. i watched as jake took my hand and slid the ring on, making me cry even more.

he hugged me tightly. "this is a haply cry, right?" i nodded again, pulling back to wipe my tears. "i love you, y/n."

"i love you so much more, jake." i stuttered, continuosly wiping tears from my eyes.

"impossible," he rolled his eyes, "come here."

i followed him to a tree near where we weere sitting. he pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket. "are you about to murder me?" i laughed and sniffled.

he rolled his eyes and carved a heart into the tree, adding his initial in the middle before handing it to me. i felt tears threaten to spill once more as i carved a plus sign and my initial in the heart. he took the knife back as i was wiping tears from my eyes and carved the date into the tree.

[chaepu]

Tiktok Series: Part 2 - Jennie Kim

pairing: jennie kim x fem!reader tags: tiktok content creators genre: fluff

part one

the one where you call your friends to see if they'd cover for you jennie's phone rings a bit as she calls your best friend nayeon, you guys hear a voice on the other side.

"hey jennie!" you hear nayeon's ecstatic voice. "hey nayeon, sorry about bothering you but i just have a quick question." "yeah whats up?" "i was just wondering was y/n with you last night?"

without hesitation, nayeon answers. "yeah she was, why?" you and jennie try to hold back your laughter. jennie answers, "no reason, she just didn't come home last night and she told me you guys were out and she slept over." "yeah, we just hung out, nothing crazy."

you and jennie are currently bent over in laughter trying to keep quiet. "thanks nabongs, ill let you go now."

jennie hangs up the phone, looks at the phone and speaks, "does she not realize that she had a concert in manila last night?"

as soon as jennie said that, your phone pings and it's a text from nayeon saying 'bitch'.

it's the no hesitation for me not nayeon completely forgetting she's in a whole different country the way it sounds like they've done this before

--

the one where you pretend you're an influencer jennie currently stood in front of her phone that's propped up on a vase on your kitchen table. she starts to speak, "hey guys, welcome to my first video. this is a little different but a lot of you guys have been asking for some fashion looks so-"

you not realizing the camera is pointed towards you on the couch. you peek your head over and see jennie animatedly speaking towards her phone.

"are you filming?" interrupting her.

"yeah, for instagram. the company wants me to post more personality type videos" jennie answers.

"forreal? are you doing a lookbook or fashion tips?" you ask her. "im thinking about a lookbook and then maybe do a q&a later for fashion tips if anyone has any questions." "that's a great idea" you say smiling towards her. "you think?" "oh hell yeah. im sure lots of people have questions on how to pair things or accessorize. do you want me to film for you? i can get my camera and take some pics." "yeah babe that sounds great" jennie says laughing "what about the ring light? i think that'll make everything look great, get rid of that shadow behind you." "really?" "yeah, it'll look great. here" you say as you get up from the couch. the video ends.

get you someone as supportive as y/n but can we actually get the lookbook and q&a