#melodie is a saw fan real

[eddseddede]

meme dump 😿

i personally think melodie would be a jigsaw apprentice if she was given the chance

[valeisaslut]

⭒࿐COLLIDE - c. five teaser

redits for the fanart: nramvv - edited by me

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 - 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

← 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 | 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 →

⚢ pairing: Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ word count: 1.9k 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭒ content: MAINLY TO BAIT AND GROW SPECULATION FOR CHAPTER FIVE OMG SORRY YALL, LOTS of tension, fake dating, cursing, modern au, mention of cigarettes, alcohol and drugs, afab!reader, multiple part series, MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

“She” hit first. And it hit hard.

No one saw it coming—not the industry, not the fans, not even you and Ellie.

One morning, it was just a melody. A quiet hum against warm skin, a song born from tangled sheets and late-night whispers.

The next, it was everywhere. 

Tearing through the charts like a wildfire, devouring streaming records before you could even blink. It was the song. The one no one could escape. The one that made people stop mid-breath, their hearts stuttering in their chests. Billboard #1 in hours. Millions of streams in days. Headlines scrambling to catch up with the sheer force of it.

And it wasn’t like people weren’t already obsessed with you two. But this? This wasn’t just a sneaky tabloid photo or a blurry Instagram story.

This was a confession.

The way your voice cracked on the bridge. The way Ellie’s guitar solo cut through the final chorus, sharp enough to scar. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was desperate in the way only truth could be. The kind of song that made the world wonder if they’d stumbled onto something too intimate, something they weren’t supposed to witness.

And then came the music video.

The barely-there touches. The weight of Ellie’s gaze, dark and all-consuming, like she was seconds away from ruining you. The way you let her. The way your body leaned into hers like the camera wasn’t even there, like none of it was staged. It didn't feel like a performance at all.

Millions of views in just an hour. People analyzed everything. Every glance, every breath, every shadow cast between your bodies. The debates were endless, scorching through Twitter threads to late-night talk shows. 

And then—before the chaos even had time to settle—your album dropped.

It wasn’t your debut. That one had been dreamy, wrapped in soft edges and rose-colored longing. This one? This was a gut punch. It was messy, vulnerable, exposed. A love letter soaked in gasoline, tossed into the fire for the whole world to watch it burn.

It tore through the charts like an unstoppable phenomenon, instantly much bigger than your first album. Critics and fans alike scrambled to dissect every lyric, every melody, searching for hidden meanings, unraveling the concept behind the album.

Theories flooded the internet—who was it about? What moments were immortalized in those verses? Each song felt like a puzzle piece, and the world was desperate to put it all together.

But the answer of everyone’s questions was at the center of it.

In only one song.

And y’all already know which one.

The one with the moans.

TikTok flooded with reaction videos—shocked expressions, wide eyes, hands covering mouths. Fans obsessed over every second, every aching note, every gasp laced between the lyrics. 

But then came the audio breakdowns. The pitch analyses. People isolating your voice, then isolating the other one behind you.

The low hum. The breathless murmurs. The unmistakable rasp of someone else's voice tangled in the melody.

It sounded way too much like Ellie.

And that’s when the world stopped breathing.

The theories came fast, dissecting every possible explanation. Was it really her? Was the song even about her? The fans knew. They had always known. Because the way the song teetered between ecstasy and devastation, between surrender and destruction, was undeniable.

Some called it art. Others called it a scandal. 

Was it real? Was it an act?

Did that even matter anymore?

Because that was the thing about you and Ellie.

No one could tell what was real anymore.

Not even you.

Ellie listened to your album the night it dropped.

You didn’t know when—if she did it alone in some dimly lit studio, headphones on, mind unreadable, or if she was sprawled across some worn-out couch with her band, Jesse and Dina cracking jokes, drinks in hand, the whole thing some chaotic, half-drunken listening party. Or maybe she wasn’t alone at all. Maybe someone else had been there, whispering in her ear, asking questions about you.

But you knew the exact moment she finished it.

Because your phone buzzed in the middle of your album release party.

You were in the VIP section, drink in hand, surrounded by producers, your team, friends—people cheering, dancing, celebrating you. The whole club pulsed with your voice, lyrics slipping through flashing lights, weaving between camera flashes, shaking the walls.

“Ellie - slide to answer”

Your stomach twisted. Your pulse stuttered.

Rachel, half-drunk beside you, caught the name on your screen and let out something between a gasp and a scream, gripping your wrist. “Oh, you are absolutely answering that.”

“Not here,” you muttered, but you were already slipping through the crowd, ignoring the calls of your label rep as you pushed past swaying bodies, the music drowning out your racing thoughts. You found an empty hallway near the back exit, the bass from the club still rumbling through the walls, and exhaled before swiping to answer.

Ellie’s voice—low, rough, teasing—slid through the speaker instantly, wrapping around you like smoke.

“So” she drawled, “Is this where I get a thank you?”

You frowned, pressing your back against the cool brick wall. “For what?”

A chuckle. “For inspiring at least half your album.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone.

She let the silence stretch, letting you stew in it, savoring the way you struggled to find a response.

“You did real good, popstar” she finally murmured. “The whole thing’s fucking stunning.”

Heat curled in your stomach as you murmured, "...Thank you"

But you knew Ellie. Knew her well enough to hear the smirk in her voice. Knew this conversation wasn’t over.

“But that song?” she continued, voice dipping lower. “The one everyone’s freaking out about?”

Ellie hummed, and fuck—fuck—it sounded just like the hum in the song.

“Dunno, babe. Kinda sounds like me.”

You blinked hard. “Kinda?”

A small, amused exhale. “Oh, yeah, not kinda. Definitely”.

“Those moans tho? Damn, didn’t even remember you sounding that good…” She let the words hang. “Can’t blame people for freaking out over it. You stole the show.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. You knew exactly what part she meant.

You scoffed, but your voice came out weaker than you wanted. “Maybe they’re freaking out over your voice in the background. Pretty reckless of you, Williams. Letting the whole world hear you like that.”

Silence. A charged one.

Then Ellie muttered something under her breath, like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You smirked. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“No, no, you totally just said something.”

A long, suffering sigh. Then—begrudgingly—"I said… maybe you like that.”

She was baiting you. She wanted you to bite.

So you did.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I liked something you did with your voice"

Silence.

Then— “Holy fuck.” Ellie groaned. “You’re actually evil.”

You grinned. “Oh, come on. You walked right into that.”

“I did not—”

“You called me,” you pointed out. “At two in the morning. Just to talk about that song.”

“I called you to congratulate you on the album.”

“And to tell me how good I sound moaning in your ear.”

A sharp inhale. “...Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, your words, not mine.”

You laughed, and she groaned again, but this time, it was softer. Playful.

Ellie sighed, something softer sneaking into her voice. “Really, though. It’s incredible.”

“You should be proud,” she added, quieter now. “Even if you did kinda put my voice on a sex song without my permission.”

“Oh my God—”

“Night, popstar” she cooed, voice dripping with amusement. “Try not to dream about me too much.”

Then she hung up, leaving you standing there, heart hammering, face burning, wondering how the fuck she always managed to win.

Just as the world was still catching its breath—The Fireflies struck back.

They had always been big. But this? This was dominance. A calculated move wrapped in chaos, their album detonating like a bomb at the peak of the frenzy. It rode the shockwave of She, fed off the obsession the world had with the two of you, twisting it into something even bigger.

And at the center of it all—her.

Gritty. Hungry. Unapologetic. Ellie’s voice cut through the speakers like a blade. The songs were restless, starved. Each lyric dripped with defiance, sharp enough to wound. The melodies hit like bruises, the guitar riffs torn straight from something primal. It was sex and recklessness and longing, a live wire of emotion that crackled under every chord, every note.

But more than anything, it felt like a challenge.

Because this wasn’t just any album. This was Ellie answering yours, a response carved into sound waves, a conversation neither of you had ever spoken aloud. The lyrics—too pointed to be coincidence, too raw to be fiction—hung in the air like a dare, a fire set ablaze for the whole world to watch.

But one particular track stopped you cold.

You had known The Fireflies’ album was coming. Had seen the press releases, the teasing interviews, the cryptic tweets. You had prepared for it. Braced yourself for whatever storm they were about to unleash.

But nothing—nothing—could have prepared you for that song.

You weren’t even listening in order. The whole club was playing their music at full volume, but somewhere between dodging cameras and downing another drink, you slipped into a booth in the corner, threw in your AirPods, and started skipping through the tracklist.

And there it was.

"For Your Love."

The moment the first chords hit, something in you froze.

It wasn’t as raw as the rest of the album, not as brutal or reckless. This one was different. The melody curled into your ribs, burrowed under your skin, something quiet and agonizing and tender.

And the lyrics—

Jesus Christ, the lyrics.

Ellie’s voice, rough around the edges, singing about a love that clawed its way under her skin. A love that was too much, too consuming, too dangerous, and yet—she would do anything for it. Burn every bridge, tear herself apart, just to hold it for a little longer.

The song writing credits? only one name: Ellie Williams

Your throat went dry.

Because it didn’t sound like a challenge. Didn’t sound like reckless, cocky Ellie with her knowing smirk and sharp-edged voice.

It sounded like something else. Something real.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, heart hammering. Then, before you could think twice, you pulled up her contact and typed.

You: slick move, williams. real slick.

You: congrats on the album. it’s a fucking masterpiece. like fr. and tell Jesse and Dina I said hi

You stared at the text. Considered unsending it.

But before you could, your phone buzzed.

Ellie: you listened already? damn, didn’t know you were my biggest fan

You rolled your eyes, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

You: only a couple

You: one in particular caught my attention tho

Ellie: yeah? which one?

You hesitated. Then—

You: we’ll talk about that one later

She read it immediately. The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Ellie: tease.

The Grammy nominations dropped at midnight. 

Five for you. Seven for The Fireflies.

But the ones that truly made your heart stop beating;

Record of the Year and Best Duo/Group Performance.

For She.

The reaction was immediate.

Your phone was already vibrating off the nightstand before your brain even processed the words glowing on the screen. Notifications flooded in like a tidal wave—texts, tags, tweets, news alerts. Your name and Ellie’s were already trending worldwide, once again tangled together like a force of nature.

By morning, it wasn’t just social media that was on fire—it was the entire goddamn world. Every talk show, every entertainment segment, every late-night monologue had something to say about it. Everyone from Rolling Stone to the New York Times was running the same story: Ellie Williams and Y/N are taking over the industry.

And yet, despite all the discourse, despite the endless debates and breathless speculation—there was one question burning hotter than all the others.

Would you and Ellie perform together at the Grammys?

It was too much to even think about. Because if She had already sent the world spiraling. If a song, just a song, had caused this level of obsession, of hysteria, of tension so thick people could barely breathe through it—

What the fuck would happen if you and Ellie brought it to life on the biggest stage in the world?

No one was prepared.

Least of all, you.

← 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 | 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 →

taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <333): @st0nerlesb0 @willurms @vahnilla @mancyw1214 @rxreaqia @laceyxrenee @antobooh @annoyingpersonxoxo @haithone @lofied @sunflowerwinds @xojunebugxo @reidairie @piscesthepoet @elliewilliamskisser2000 @pariiissssssss @mxquelo @elliesbabygirl @xx2849 @kiiramiz @mikellie @brooks-lin @kaykeryyy @lovely-wisteria @marscardigan @elliesanqel @lovelaymedown @gold-dustwomxn @ilovewomenfr @seraphicsentences @mascspleasegetmepregnant @raindroprose23 @creepyswag  @jujueilish @elliesgffrfr @kirammanss @liztreez @catrapplesauces @livvietalks @furtherrawayy @thatchosen1 @kanadadryer @littlerosiesthings @eriiwaii @firefly-ace @redlightellie @elliepoems @sabrinathewitchh982 @shady-lemur @jubileexoxo

࿐♡ ˚.*��� OMFG GUYS. I POSTED THIS MOSTLY SO CHAPTER FIVE WOULDN'T BE THAT LONG AND TO GROW SOME EXPECTATION IM SO SO SO EXCITEDDDD. I did like 30 proofreads, but there might still be a few grammar mistakes here and there—sorry in advance, english isn't my first language and I will be happy to receive constructive criticism!.

Please leave a comment if you’re interested in being on the permanent taglist for this series!

see ya'll soon, stay tuned ;)

[burningembers91]

Fuscia Pink Kisses - Choi Su-Bong x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Not Who I Want to Be

The Beauty of Vulnerability

Synopsis: When Choi Su-Bong celebrates your birthday, he receives potentially life changing news

A/N: This is a reupload. I originally posted this yesterday, but for some reason this fic kept being hidden, so i have reposted :)

It’s true what people said: just as one part of your life started going well, another part fell to shit. Your relationship with Su-Bong was going from strength to strength. The two of you were so perfect for each other and neither of you could quite believe it was real. He hadn’t stopped smiling in months, hadn’t felt the need to numb his existence with a bottle of vodka or a brightly coloured pill. You were so enveloped in the blissful bubble of love, that nothing else seemed to matter.

Su-Bong had been thinking seriously about his music and career as well. Thanos was well and truly gone; his devilish alter ego died the night he met you. He wanted to rebrand, wanted to use his own name and make songs that were about more than just partying and sex. His record label hadn’t like that though. They’d signed Thanos, not Su-Bong. People were interested in his brand, not the person behind the crazy purple hair and tattoos. He’d been dropped by his label two weeks ago, a decision that had crushed him and almost made him reach for a substance to numb his brain.

You’d stayed by his side though, holding him as he cried and tried to wrap his head around the bombshell decision he’d had no say in. His whole career had gone up in smoke, simply because he didn’t want to play the part of a false character anymore. The comments on social media were just as bad. Su-Bong had been called every name under the sun, he’d been referred to as a fake more times than he could count and each insult cut as much as the last.

He was determined to stay true to himself though. To make the music he wanted, to be the person that he knew would make you proud. It had been you who’d suggested he return to YouTube. It was how he got famous in the first place, recording himself rapping in his childhood bedroom. He returned under his real name, his songs now focused on softer subjects. He still rapped, but his songs now featured softer R ‘n’ B melodies. The response had been promising, attracting a new kind of fan base, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever have the fame that Thanos did.

He’d thought about moving as well, finding a new apartment that reflected his new life. His old place held too many negative memories and he’d outgrown the space. He wanted somewhere that he could grow with you, somewhere he could create a life with the person he held the most dear. He was waiting to broach the subject with you, waiting until he’d found a place he knew you’d love. Despite the downturn of his career, Su-Bong had bigger things to focus on.

Today was your birthday, and he intended on spoiling you beyond your wildest dreams. You’d gone shopping at the weekend, picking out a bright fuscia pink mini dress you’d seen in the shop. You usually wore more muted colours, but your boyfriend’s love of bright colours had influenced you to try something new. The colour looked incredible on you, and Su-Bong couldn’t resist dying his hair and painting his nails to match. You’d giggled when you saw the shock of pick hair on his head, pulling him in for a kiss as he spun you around his vast living room.

“Happy birthday, Señorita,” he whispered, smothering you with kisses.

“Gracias, senor,” you smiled, cupping his cheeks in your hands as your eyes explored his handsome face. His skin was glowing, his eyes were brighter and for the first time since you’d met him, his smile reached his eyes. You were so glad you’d taken a chance on him; life with Su-Bong was nothing short of perfection.

He’d showered you with gifts, the presents piled high next to the sofa. He’d ordered from your favourite restaurant for breakfast, making sure you had the biggest mug of your favourite coffee. Nothing was too much when it came to you; Su-Bong would get you the moon if you asked him.

He made love to you for hours, drawing out your pleasure again and again until your shaking body could take no more. He would never tire of the way you felt, the way you tasted, the way you sounded as he brought you to the brink of bliss again and again. He could have laid there with you all day, just the two of you between his sheets. But he’d promised you a fancy dinner, and he was dying to see you in your new dress.

You looked more beautiful than he ever could have imagined, the bright pink of the dress accentuating the colour of your eyes, the colour of your skin, still flushed from the orgasms he’d given you.

“I adore you,” Su-Bong whispered, pulling you close against his taut frame, inhaling your floral scent. His hair and nails matched so perfectly to your dress, but tonight you would be the star of the show. He took you to the fanciest restaurant, hiring a private room just for the two of away from the prying eyes of his former fans. Time seemed to both stand still and somehow accelerate with you. Su-Bong had all the time in the world with you, and yet it never seemed to be enough. You ate until your stomachs were full to bursting, your eyes welling with tears of laughter. No one made you laugh as much as he did, no one made you feel as safe.

Sleep evaded him that night, and he stared up at his ceiling as your sleeping form lay nestled against his chest. He felt agitated, on edge, but couldn’t figure out why. Picking up his phone, he scrolled through his emails, coming to a stop when he found an email from a record company. They’d seen his new music and they were interested in talking to him. He looked over you, so beautiful and peaceful as you slept. His excitement was almost overwhelming, but you looked too comfortable to wake up now. He would wait until the morning to tell you. You were his muse, the subject of every song he’d written in the last 3 months. He hoped this meeting would bring only good things, and he hoped you would join him for the ride.

[seraphdreams]

DON'T FORGET ME | BAJI KEISUKE.

⋆˙⟡♡ synopis. going to a concert with your best friend certainly has its perks. and so does hooking up with one of the bandmates.

⋆˙⟡♡ contains. bimbo!reader, rockstar!baji, unprotected sex, pet names, asphyxiation, creampie, semi-public sex, baji being sleazy + eighteen plus, mdni.

⋆˙⟡♡ word count. 3.3k.

“Thanks for coming to tonight’s show! Here’s one more song before we head out!”

You’d never been much of a fan of underground rock music, and quite frankly, you still weren’t. Something about obnoxiously loud vocals backed up with random electric guitar riffs just never settle right within your spirit. In fact, you almost forgot the real reason you stood just yards away from one of the biggest up and coming rock bands.

For one thing, the air was incredulously too suffocating. Bodies upon bodies virtually sewn together despite the spacious arena that held them, and the stage lights abnormally dim—Only a few saffron-hued luminescences casted upon the four males that appeared on the platform. You hardly saw the members in the far back on their guitars but of what you could make out, one had white hair decorated with a small black streak and tan skin that glimmered under the hot lights while the other, with a dark neck tattoo and bold eyes, drank from his half-full water bottle.

Mostly by the front and center of the stage, occupied the drummer and the person who was just speaking out from the mic mere seconds ago.

“That’s my fucking brother!” Your best friend and little sister of the main vocalist, Airi shouted. She was but the replication of her brother; large, emerald orbs dazzled with long dark brown eyelashes and heaps of wavy blonde hair that fell downward to her lower back. Her outfit choice of leather pants donned with a matching corset top left none of her figure to the imagination, an ode to her love of the genre.

Wherever Airi went, you followed, and when she proposed the idea of seeing her brother and his bandmates perform, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity—Not to mention the free front row tickets he offered.

It was clear Chifuyu heard his sister from the crowd, looking down at the two of you with an illustrious smile and gesturing a two finger salute. He inched back with the microphone taut in the grip of his left hand and sent off a cue to the rest of his bandmates. Music followed hastily after and he began to sing.

Throughout the whole show, your eyes remained locked onto the raven-haired drummer. You marveled at each and every ministration he made, how his demeanor seemed to switch with each passing song and how the sweat accumulated on his perfectly toned body. In your head, you could’ve cursed Airi for not telling you about him beforehand, he’s totally your type.

You bobbed your head along to the melody that flowed within your ears and it was evident to Airi that you were enjoying the show you formally told her you “probably wouldn’t enjoy.”

She leaned over to sonorously whisper-yell in your ear. “Having fun?” The expiration of her words practically fell to flat ears had you not seen her in your peripheral view. In all honesty, you were more-so focused on the aggression that sexy drummer displayed while he played. How did he not break the drumset? Surely, he was strong enough to do so.

“Huh?” You peered over at her, vacant eyes meeting her jaded ones. She gave you her signature allknowing look and turned back to face the band.

Soon enough, the music stopped and the venue was filled with its final cheers. The stage went ominously tenebrous and the rest of the audience filed out of the stadium, except for you and Airi.

“Wanna go chill backstage?” Airi proposed. She pointed her thumb in the direction of a hallway filled with staff. “Are we even allowed to?” you started. “The place is packed with security.”

Airi mirthfully elbowed you, that sly smile on her perfectly made-up face. “I’m family, they’ll understand.”

One thing you couldn’t knock about your best friend was her adventurousness. Truthfully, you were just as bad as her, yet a bit more wary of getting in trouble—Especially if the law was involved, but you liked fun. And this was definitely what you needed. “Show me the way then, Little Matsuno.”

And with that, the both of you had set foot on your way to heading backstage.

Which undoubtedly felt like the case until you found yourself stranded among other concertgoers and personnel that you lost sight of your friend. She couldn’t have gotten far so where the hell was she? You continued your search by calling her phone, walking in any direction to pick up the slightest amount of signal.

“Hey.”

The bellow of a deep voice stopped you dead in your tracks and you sheepishly looked up with silent hopes that you hadn’t gotten in it with the wrong person. Much to your dismay (Or maybe it was a blessing), the man you’d been eyeing all night stood tall above you. Long, wavy noir tresses sat at his wide shoulders to match his black tank top that was slightly rolled up at the hem, showing off his midriff and that delicious v-line. His toned and ink littered arms folded across his chest while an undistinguishable expression etched over his features.

“Uh, hi.” You blinked a few times in dubiousness at the circumstance you so gracefully landed yourself in. Proximal distance to his figure led you to tread backward a few steps until you were at a comfortable enough range to take him in fully.

He looked so fucking mean, thick eyebrows pursed together, and sharp, amber eyes narrowed upon your figure.

“What do ya think you’re doin’?”

You had half a mind to drop to your knees and show him what was on your mind, yet you remained to keep yourself where you stood, for his sake of course.

His eyes bored holes into your frame. Whereas you couldn’t keep up with his unwavering eye contact, he managed to take note of every little quirk about you. “Um.. I was looking for my friend.” Your throat felt dry as you began to speak. “She said I could come backstage—Her name’s Airi Matsuno, Chifuyu’s sister.” The words got quieter as you spewed them out. You weren’t sure if it was your nerves or the intimidation, he’s so much taller up close.

“Eh? Fuyu’s lil’ sis?” He looked behind him to one of his bandmates, that same one as before with the blond streaks and neck tattoo. It seemed as though every member had genes blessed by the deities up above. “Tora, does Fuyu have a sister?”

The man you come to realize as “Tora” affirms your claim, adding that he had just seen Airi and Chifuyu leave the venue.

“Damn it, Ai.” You thought to yourself as if she’d actually given one day to not be herself.

The drummer turns back to look at you, this time unfolding his arms and standing somewhat widely. His thick dark brows remained quirked in a perplexed manner. He leans down to meet your gaze, hands hidden in his pockets as he concludes. “Some friend you got there. She left ya all alone.”

“She does that sometimes.” You reply.

He straightened up back to his full height, his expression softening, and a slight crack of a smile on his lips. “Guess i’ll keep ya company ‘til she comes back.”

Any other day, your humility would’ve been disregarded to the back of your mind. In all actuality, you were discourteous and loved attention, yet the feeling of a celebrity seemingly stooping low enough for some lost, 20-something year old groupie in disguise, kept your modesty in perfect condition.

“Oh, you don’t have to-“

Your words were quickly cut off by his cold demeanor as he opened one of the doors in the narrow hallway beside him. “But I wanna. /Ven aqui/.“ Eyes looked into yours like daggers and you couldn’t quite tell if he were vexed at your facade or if he were just blessed with bedroom eyes.

You followed him into what seemed to be his greenroom. It’s complete with a set of drums on one side near the corner and a half opened window, and a leather couch in the middle, not to mention the rack of clothes on the other edge.

“Didn’t catch your name, though. You are?” He questioned, sitting at the drumset in front of you. You made yourself comfortable on the plush couch, pulling the hem of your pink bodycon down in hopes you don’t reveal too much.

“I’m Y/N. And you are?”

He raises an eyebrow then follows it with a hearty laugh. “You came to my show ‘nd ya don’t even know my name?” You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, but he was right. You didn’t know any of the members aside from the obvious, Chifuyu.

“My friend dragged me here, I just go wherever she goes.” You retort, a cordial grin on your face. He adjusts his sitting position and spreads his legs slightly.

It’s coming. The urge to suck dick.

“Yeah? Name’s Baji. You can call me Keisuke though.”

He pulled the pair of drumsticks from his back pocket and quietly tapped away. “You’re cute.” Dexterously, he twirled one of the sticks between his fingers where you noticed his black lacquered nails paired with the skull-esque designs of the rings that adorned said digits. “You like a college student or something?” Heat spread across your cheeks at the comment. A band member calling you cute was not something you thought you’d experience tonight, but there’s lots you haven’t experienced yet.

“Mhm. It’s a lot though, I'm thinking of dropping out.” More calm your voice was, and he picked up on your energy, sending a stern glance your way.

“Nah, don’t do that.” The melodic tapping from the drumsticks halt. “Ya seem like a smart girl, don’t be like me.”

Curiosity overtakes you, causing you to press forward. “And what are you like, Keisuke?” His name tasted saccharine falling off your tongue and filling your ears with the sweetest music. Keisuke, Keisuke, Keisuke.

“Dropped out at 14, ran around with a few gangs, and now ‘m doing music.” His words register in his mind before he continues. “But ‘m makin’ good money now, maybe you should live like me a little.”

A giggle resonated within the room and he felt his heart swell at the cute laughter. He wasn’t quite sure what urged your joy but he returned it with a smile of his own. You truly do have the prettiest face. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ya know..” His words slipped off his tongue like honey and in turn you gave him the most of your attention, curious eyes locked on his dismal bronze ones. “I got this beat I can’t get out my head. Can I get your opinion?” His expression was glazed over in calculation with a slight pat to his thigh that you seemingly picked up. Instinctively, your body moved on its own and replied to his silent call. As you nestled into his lap, you only hoped that this had been what he was asking for. “Mhm.” Your response was curt and barely escaped under the pressure of your breath.

Your back was pressed against his chest and your core was slotted over his thigh, a relatively intimate position despite the need for cordial relations. He started up on the drums, stirring up the common one-two, one-two beat that emphasized its focus on the round bass drum that sat at the bottom of the set. It was as if with each press to the drum pedal the muscle of his thigh dangerously tensed beneath your heat, eliciting surges of delirium and pleasure straight to the very source. It’s clear he knew what he was doing from the onsight of your glossy lips parting and the faintest decibel of a gasp leaving your lips.

“Y’like it?” Deep voice ghosted over your ear as he leaned in precariously close. “Y’sure it won’t sound better like this?”

The beat he originally created morphed into one of a sonorous, heavier tone. Your body vaguely rocked over his, your tits bouncing from the nefarious rising and falling of his leg in the sweetest, yet most sinister tandem with his flexing thighs.

And all restraint vanished from within you as you diligently rutted your hips. You felt embarrassed. Like a needy nuisance needed to be taken care of, yet again, your humility sat idly by and pride dwindled from your very being.

“That—That sounds nice.” Your reply was breathy and if you thought enough of this through, your little plan of passing your insatiability off as adjusting your position would’ve worked on him. But it didn’t.

The sultry, damp sensation he felt on his blackened denim pants told him otherwise. Baji chuckled to no one in particular, the sharp canines on display while he smirked mirthfully to himself. He’s had his fair share of girls practically throwing themselves at him, and still, you were the most fun to play with.

The flexing and relaxing of his muscles didn’t let up, as with your ruthless humping. You held tightly to his knees with the pressure only gradually increasing when you felt yourself crumbling in his hold.

On the verge of your awaiting orgasm, Baji’s lips press against the shell of your studded ear.

“I saw you starin’ in the crowd tonight—Couldn’t keep my eyes off that tiny lil’ dress you’re wearing.” He moved one hand from the drumset to snake over the front of your garment, calloused hands kneading at your soft and pert breasts. The movement was one of full dexterity. Your nipples ached as he pinched and rolled them between his fingers.

“Knew you weren’t wearin’ a bra.” his lips against your ear trailed down to your neck which caused the helplessly rutting of your core over his thigh, strikingly close to orgasm. You had managed to keep your whimpers low but due to proximity, you left nothing to be unheard. A harsh tug of your nipples pulled you from the hazed out state you were entranced in.

“Gotta tell Tora I won our little bet.”

False lashes fluttered with every move the both of you made. Your voice was soft as you responded, “You’re just so fucking fine, Couldn’t help myself.”

He was used to the attention. He’s a 6’0 rockstar with a checkered past — Any girl would fall for that cliche shtick, yet something within him wanted to toy with your naivety. Would you really believe anything he said?

“I don’t get much attention from fans, but you? You’re special.”

It was that moment that sent you over the edge, a lewd cry followed by your body convulsing, pretty face screwed up in pleasure, letting Baji know your release had hit you, and fucking hard at that.

“Oh ho? That did it for ya, huh?” He watched in awe at the sopping mess of his pants while allowing you to ride out your high completely before those same strong hands bunched your dress up at the hip.

You rested against his back for a while as stray pants waned themselves from your lips.

“Ya poor thing, I ain’t even get to finish my drummin.’” his hands left your tits as he rasped out the words and settled on turning you around to face him on his lap. “Sorry..” you meekly responded. An airy chuckle sounded itself from him as he whips out his throbbing hard length.

It should be illegal to be as thick as a fucking Coke can, yet there he was — The tip flushed a deep mauve, and pretty pearlescent beads of precum streaming down his cock and over the few veins that seemed to run along the shaft. The prettiest dick you’ve ever seen, and you stared in awe until the deep clearing of his throat caught your attention.

Pumping it shallowly, he pushed those cute fucking pink lace panties to the side, revealing your glistening and sticky folds to him. He prodded the tip at your hole, bullying your core that left you aching for his touch.

“Ride it for me, muñequita.”

With no hesitation, you sank yourself down onto his cock, carefully taking him in.

“Fuck—” The low whimper is sounded from you as you began to bounce yourself on his lap. He felt impossible to take and with your hands rested over his shoulders paired with his arms at your waist, slowly pushing you further down, you didn’t think you could take it. “That’s it, baby. Ride it like it’s yours.” He cooed, letting his head fall back as you got him off.

You bit at your plush bottom lip to elicit any moans from flying which reigned ineffective when you picked up pace and rolled your hips, allowing his cock to drag against that spongey spot within your walls that had your resolve weakening.

Obscenities and the reverberation of skin on skin bounced against the walls of his green room. You were tighter than any girl he’d ever been in and much cuter too.

Once you were able to fall into a comfortable rhythm of bouncing on his cock he hastily began to work toward his own release having grown tired of your saunterous riding.

He lifted you up off his length and turned you around so that you were bent over his drumset. “I know you were trying your best,” he followed up his words with a quick slap to your ass before aligning his cock with your slit once more, “But i’m gonna need better than that.”

Baji noticed the way you faltered once he built up his own pace, with more fervor than the previous. You almost fell forward with the trajectory of the thrusts and to his chagrin, your moans amplified.

“D-Deep! ‘S so deep!” You cried wantonly. You felt your guts get turned inside out with his vigor. A scoff was heard from him in response, the inked up hands that rested at your hips now filing up your body and hooking at your elbows, holding you back flush against him as he continued to hit harder within your walls.

You felt unsteady when his right hand trailed up to your neck and gripped at your jaw before his index and middle finger slipped past your lips into your mouth. The metal of the rings tasted metallic and felt cold against your tongue, those being the least of your concerns when you felt your high from previously coil right up within you once more.

Without warning, you were hit with your release that left you limp in his hold, his fingers retracting from your mouth and messily running down your fat bottom lip where he also smeared a mix of saliva and cherry oil gloss down your chin.

Just momentarily from the sight of how pretty you looked, convulsing and crumbling because of his doing, he followed suit and filled your insides in thick, hot spurts of his cum, drops dripping down your thigh when he continued to rut inside you, emptying himself of his need.

It took you both a while to settle down, his lips hungrily taking in your neck down to your shoulder.

“Was that deep enough for ya?” He rasped and haziness filled your system when you pant to respond. “I-“

Just before you could respond, there’s a knock at the door and a familiar voice accompanied.

“Y/N! You in here? I’m ready to leave!”

It’s Airi, loud and clear after her awaited reappearance.

“Shit.” Baji cursed under his breath. He pulled you off of him and bent you over slightly, fetching a thick black marker from the table beside him and holding the cap between his teeth.

The uncomfortable sensation of the felt tip on your ass trailing down to your thigh lasted mere seconds as you tried to make out the shapes you couldn’t see. “Here’s my number. Don’t forget me.”

He stood you up properly and fixed your skirt, sending you off with a pat to your ass.

“I’ll see you again, Keisuke?”

“Damn right you will.”

tags - @meena-in-a-nutshell @imkumichan @messofavs @aotdump @saaraunicorn @cloudnitee @saffronity @aasouthteranoswife @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @anahryal @withlovetengen @zuuki @keooooothings @bunnyyamor @koucaine @bluerskiees @ready2readagain @sarnghoe

+ a great big thanks to my moot ! @lovelysho thank you so much for beta reading my love !

– all rights reserved © seraphdreams 2023. do not repost, change, copy, republish, read, translate, or recommend my work on tumblr or any other platforms without prior permission. feedback is widely appreciated!

[peanutpinet]

BABE!!!! We absolutely need a second part to Little Things, we need to know how their relationship develops and see Sylus fall in lover with reader's soul. PLEASE BABE PLEASE!!!

Welcome to My World - Sylus x Fem Reader (Sequel to Little Things)

Request: Craving for a sequel to this w/ reader actually going back to her world and sylus just defying all odds shshshshs these kinds of fics are so interesting love em <3

A/N: Just a lil something for those who wanted to see what would Sylus be like if he were to actually come out of the screen and into our world (still having his evol but is not addressed). Also if anyone is a Kpop fan, I just want to say, do have a listen to Aespa’s Welcome to My World. It embodies this fic so much and am putting some of the lyrics into the story! I hope you guys enjoy!!

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

Also, if you haven't read Little Things, the "first part" of the story, do have a read. Will be link here. But you don't have to read it and can just read each of these fics seperately

Warnings: Fluff but mainly ANGST, Isekai Theme, Will be Going back and Forth between LADS universe and our universe, slow burn because Sylus is tryna find you :))

Funfact: I remembered the TV Show: Westworld and how the characters of the game gain conciousness when writing this fic

Songs to listen to: NCT Dream - Broken Melodies, Aespa - Welcome to My World, NCT Dream - Like We Just Met

N109 Zone - 01:48 AM

It was in the middle of the night. When all are asleep, people in the N109 zone, those in the shadows have only started to wake up and get on about their day, including Sylus. Slowly awakening from his slumber, Sylus saw the girl that was beside him, fast asleep. Her chest was rising and falling in a steady motion; indicating that she was in a deep sleep.

Smiling to himself, Sylus decided to scootch a bit closer and caressed the girl’s cheek. But as he did, the girl immediately grabbed his wrist tightly and jerked awake. “Who the fuck…w-where am I?!”

Hearing the girl’s words, Sylus knew. “You’re not her…”

Real World - 09:28 AM

You woke up with a pounding headache but slowly regained your consciousness, you noticed how the bed wasn’t as big nor was it as warm as when you were used to. Jerking up, you took in the room you were in. The bright white ceiling was the first thing you see, the smell of alcohol and blood was faint but you could smell it, and then you heard a beeping noise which made you turn and saw that your hand was hooked onto a monitor and an IV drip.

Whipping your head around, you search for your phone until you find it and immediately look at the date when you suddenly get a notification from both Instagram and Twitter mentioning the new update for Love and Deepspace.

“I’m back…” you sobbed yet your fingers glided across the screen of your phone, pressing the game that you swore you were in

As the game loads, you see the cutscenes of all of the characters and can’t help but feel emotionally overwhelmed whenever you see Sylus’ cutscenes.

Once the game loaded and you could hear that cafe jingle along with those familiar red eyes, you tried to see whether or not anything had changed in the game other than the new updates but when you clicked on his tall figure, the lines he said were nothing out of the ordinary. Even in the text message icon, you couldn’t text him like you did when you were in the game.

“Was it all just a dream?”

“Y-you’re awake!!” you heard someone talk and as your eyes looked at the doorframe, it was the nurse

You soon found out that you had been in a coma for a little over 2 weeks yet it felt like you were in the game for 2 months, maybe even more. Your best friends came to visit you every day and now that you’re awake, they were bombarding you with food, life updates, and all.

For once, you actually didn’t feel as lonely as you were when you appeared in the game.

Maybe it truly was all just a dream…

From a distance, a black crow was watching your interaction with your friends from a tree that was just outside of your window. After some time, the crow eventually fled and flew away from the tree.

N109 Zone - 04:18 AM

Sylus was beyond pissed. He took MC to where he took you in the beginning to get your evol and aether core checked but additionally, he wanted to know if you were truly not in the MC’s body. Sylus’ worker questioned as to why he brought MC again to check her evol and aether core, confusing the Onychinus’ leader.

Even when the two came home, the twins didn’t notice any difference from MC. What’s wrong with everyone? You’re not MC and it goes the other way as well. Why were the twins pestering MC who to Sylus, was not you.

“But boss, Miss Hunter and you have known each other for over 2 months now. What do you mean she’s not her?” Luke questioned, genuinely confused at his boss’ attitude

“She’s not. Have you forgotten who taught you both how to cook the simplest meal? The one that bought you those bulletproof vests?” Sylus demanded, something, anything about your sudden disappearance or at the very least, anyone other than him remembering your existence

“It’s Miss Hunter, though?” Kieran replied, making Sylus groan. “Just, leave me alone for the next few days” Sylus left the room and walked past MC who grabbed his wrist, making his brow arch in confusion.

Sighing, Sylus turned to see MC. “What is it that you want?”

“Where are you going? I went through all the trouble to get the N109 zone and I want answers regarding the aether core” MC demanded but Sylus just chuckled and used his evol to remove MC’s hand from his wrist

“You already have the aether core you’re looking for. Why don’t you go back and ask your doctor about that? I have other matters to attend to. Like why are you here instead of her” Sylus mentioned, walking away until MC talked to him

“You’re always mentioning her but you never mentioned her name. Who are you exactly talking about and what does it have to do with me?” MC questioned and this time, Sylus grabbed her by her neck and pinned her to the nearest wall

“Don’t tempt my patience. I only have so much left ever since your attitude shows up instead of something else I want. From here on out, I could care less about your little quest. You can even have that brooch you’re wearing to get in and out of the N109 zone without getting harmed. But I want you to leave. Go back to your doctor, that fish man of an artist, or fake hunter for all I care. When I come back to this place, I hope that you’re not here anymore. Or you’ll hurt even more” Sylus warned, releasing MC as he went who knows where.

Sylus went into his car, the car that you love to drive in. Though you were just a soul in MC’s body, he could immediately tell the two of you apart. What scent do you like, the small trinkets that you would buy to keep his things more organized, some small keychain plushies that he would put on his keys which is in contrast to his scary look.

You might just be a soul that just so happens to be in MC’s body, the body of a person he should’ve been interacting with, the one he should’ve been bound to. But why does his heart feel incomplete? Why does his soul long for your own.

Gripping onto the steering wheel, Sylus looked at the plushie you put in this car. It was a koala, one of your favourite plushies, because you told him that you looked like a koala when Sylus carried you around. “I swore to you that if this were to happen, I would find you. Regardless what happens, I will find a way to get back to you. Our stories’ unfinished, sweetie. Wait for me. I’ll do anything to get back to you”

Real World

It’s been several months since you woke up. You still played the game but not as often anymore. You got a job at your friend’s office as a secretary. It pays well, you and your friend are roommates, life has been going fairly well that you barely played the game that provided you comfort.

One day, however, there was a bouquet of red Carnations mixed with pink Camillas on your desk with a note attached to it. “I hope this gets to you. If this ever reaches you, it means that I’m another step closer to seeing you again. There’s this uneasy feeling I’ve been feeling since you were gone. I promise I won’t stop finding you”

Confused, you asked everyone, including the delivery man who delivered the flowers to you but no one knew where it came from. It didn’t even mention your name and only a description of you.

Brushing it off, you thought it must’ve been some kind of prank until several more flowers reached you. One after another, there were notes along with the flowers which all made your heart clench because whoever this person was, it seemed that either you left a very deep impression on them or this was some sort of stalker.

“Did the first one reach you? I’m getting closer”

“I hope that you’re eating well. Wait for me”

“It seems that you’ve forgotten about me once more. No matter, I’ll be sure to jog your memory once we meet again”

Another year has finally passed and the bouquet and notes kept on coming until you saw the flowers and notes that came in. Instead of the usual red Carnation or pink Camillas or even sometimes Forget me nots, this time it was a bouquet of black and red roses with a note of a familiar handwriting and scent.

“I’ve finally found you. You said that you were worried about me finding the real you but to me, you’re just as perfect as your soul. Your face, your body, it matches your soul perfectly. And even though you might’ve forgotten about me, I assure you that my love for you is still the same like we just met. Perhaps in the game, I would allow you to go live your life without me because it’s safer for you. But here, looking at you, I can feel myself coming alive once more. Whether you try to move on, I know that there’s a lingering feeling behind your pretty head thinking of the possibility. And you would be correct, sweetie. I’m fulfilling my promise to you. For there is no love greater than mine.

P.S: we should thank Mephisto for always managing to find you when I couldn’t

-Sylus”

You were in shock. Sure, there was a small voice, hidden behind all your to-dos, your schedules, your wants, likes, needs. A faint voice telling you of the possibility that perhaps Sylus was the one to send you all those flowers and notes but you were in your world, the real world. You would lock that faint voice and never think about it again. You were realistic. There was no way that a fictional 3D man would send you all of that.

And Mephisto? He’s a bird. A mechanical bird that is tied with Sylus. Everything seemed ridiculous. You couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day until your boss called you for a sudden meeting outside of the office and at a restaurant.

The restaurant was filled with high-class people, some were doing business with another while others were simply finding ways to spend their money. Suddenly, it reminded you of the time when you were in MC’s body and Sylus would take the two of you out to dinner.

Remembering Sylus, the flowers, and the note, you decided to excuse yourself to the restroom but in reality, you decided to log into the very game you downloaded to seek comfort. The nostalgia was coming back. They made a new update and introduced a new male character. Once your game loads, Sylus is still in the game and when you poke him, thinking that he’ll respond like how he would when a player hasn’t logged in for so long, he surprises you.

“You’re probably wondering why am I not responding to you in a way that you expect. Well, why don’t you check my messages on the message feature, sweetie?” Sylus mentioned and immediately, you went to open the message feature in the game and once again, you were shocked with what you read on the screen that you had to cover your mouth.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, kitten? I’m sad that you’ve forgotten about me but I’m genuinely happy with how you’re living your life so far”

“But if I were to tell you that I want to be apart of your life here, would you accept me?”

You were given the chance to answer him, to reply to this sudden message but your boss had already called you back and unfortunately, you had to go back to the table and sit beside your boss.

As you were about to sit down, you heard that familiar soothing voice that always calms your nerves; especially when you’re in the N109 zone. “Is this your secretary that we’ve been waiting for?”

Immediately, you looked up and met with those soft bright red eyes behind small glasses. The white hair you’ve gone through with your fingers was styled like how you first met him. The figure sitting in front of you was wearing a soft grey sweater and black jeans.

And that smile, that smile that you’re so used to seeing everyday is now showing in front of you again. “Pleased to meet you, sweetheart. Shall we begin the meeting?”

Throughout the meeting, you tried your best to pay attention and jot down all the notes you needed. You struggled for a moment and even towards the end, you stutter your thank you and goodbyes until the white-hair man called you.

“Waiting for someone, sweetie?” you heard that damn voice as you could feel all hairs on your skin stand up

Turning around, you finally got a good look at him. All of his 190cm height was towering over your figure. Your actual real-life self and not the MC you created in the game.

On one side, you wanted to talk, to question him if all of this was just another one of those visions you used to have. On the other, you wanted to jump at the man in front of you. To cry in his arms as he holds you close. But nothing. You were frozen in your spot as this Sylus look-alike smirked at you and held his index out which suddenly a black crow rest on.

“Is, is that…” you managed to utter, making the man in front of you chuckle

“Mephisto. An actual crow this time” he said, extending his hand out so the black crow was within your reach

Extending your own index out, the black crow, Mephisto went onto your index and you instinctively stroke its head. “We never stop looking for you, you know”

You look up to see those eyes that once were filled with rage now filled with sadness. Sighing, you tried to remind yourself that this is the real world, not your game.

“I'm sorry, sir. You must've gotten the wrong person. I don't think we’ve met before this meeting today. Your bird must be very friendly to have gone on another person’s hand” you mentioned, intending to return the black crow, still not believing that the man and bird in front of you are who you think they are

But instead, the man in front of you turned and took something from his pocket. “Is that so? Well then either you don’t want to remember what we’ve been through or Mephisto might’ve gotten the wrong person. Then how about we reintroduce ourselves to one another?”

“I’m Sylus, this is Mephisto. We were from a faraway land called the N109 zone. For the past year, I've been building my multimillion security tech company” Sylus mentioned, extending his hand out, revealing the brooch that you once wore as a promise to Sylus to stay by him

Shocked to see the brooch, you stutter at your words but Sylus noticed this and gently took one of your hands which you didn’t deny. “I meant what I said and I’m keeping my promise. My only regret is I couldn’t come find you sooner”

“H-how? This has got to be a joke. You’re not real. You’re not actually here. I must be dreaming again. I’m going mad” you started to lose your mind but Sylus pulled you into a hug

“Tell me this isn’t real then. Tell me that you don’t see me. Tell me that you don’t feel this warmth we both have wanted for a long time. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll gladly walk away from you so that you can continue to live your life as is but don’t expect me not to want to be a part of your life. Don’t think that even if I walk away today, I won’t try my best to still keep an eye on you” Sylus stated, whispering into your ear, kissing right below your ear

Taking in his calming leather scent, you slowly sob in Sylus’ chest as he strokes your head, calming you. “You’re such a stubborn crow” you finally hug Sylus, indirectly accepting him back into your life

“I know. But it’s worth it. I finally get back to you. Though I can’t offer you as much as I would when we were in the N109 zone, I do promise you that I will be here this time. I’m not letting you go that easily. So, you’re willing to let me back?” Sylus asked, making you chuckle

“Welcome to the real world, my world, Sylus” you said, getting on your tiptoe to give his cheek a kiss but instead, Sylus turned his head, held your neck and leaned for an actual kiss

A/N: Ngl, I was simping over my own writing of this. Where can we find an irl Sylus T^T

[mocchiixxx]

Love or Legacy Series| #7 : Unwritten Melodies

(Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Reader)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Idol AU

⚠️ WARNING: This is story is purely work of fiction. It does not reflect real-life events or SEVENTEEN in any way. This episode contains heavy angst, emotional distress, and themes of heartbreak and sacrifice. Reader discretion is advised. Please take care of yourself while reading.

Summary: When Jihoon's relationship is exposed, the backlash is brutal. Fans turn against him, and the company offers him a choice—his love or his career. Forced to make the ultimate sacrifice, Jihoon chooses to protect you the only way he knows how. But when the dust settles and he’s left alone with his music, he realizes too late—some songs are never meant to be finished.

Jihoon had never been the type to believe in fate.

He believed in hard work, in long nights spent inside a studio, in melodies built from countless revisions. Love was something that happened in the spaces between, accidental, unplanned, and far too fragile for the life he lived.

But then you happened.

And for the first time, Jihoon found himself composing songs with a name hidden in every lyric.

For the first time, he wanted to believe that love was something he could have.

Until the world reminded him that idols weren’t meant to love.

And that love, no matter how deep, could never survive under a spotlight.

It started with a rumor.

A blurry photo of two figures walking too close, an analysis of matching accessories, a thread speculating every moment he had slipped up.

Then came the hate.

'He lied to us.' 'If he really loved his fans, he wouldn’t be dating.''He was caught wearing a matching bracelets as her' 'This is so disappointing. I can’t support him anymore.'

And the worst...

'Bet she was in this for fame and money.'

'She’s ruining his career.'

You became the villain overnight.

They dug into your life, pulled apart every post, every interaction, twisted everything until you became a parasite, someone who had latched onto him for fame.

The messages flooded in; threats, insults, strangers demanding that you disappear. Your name trended for all the wrong reasons. The places you once found comfort in became suffocating.

And Jihoon saw it all.

He saw the pain in your eyes when you read the comments. He saw the way you hesitated before stepping outside, as if the world had turned into something dangerous. He saw how you tried to hide it, tried to smile and tell him it would pass.

But it wouldn’t.

And that’s why he had to end it. The company didn't have to step in because he already know what's has to be done.

You met him in his studio that night, the place that had always been yours.

But something was different.

Jihoon was standing in the middle of the room, hands clenched into fists, eyes dark with something unreadable. The air was thick with words unsaid.

You stepped forward, heart pounding. “Jihoon, what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked past you, as if memorizing the moment before shattering it.

Then he exhaled sharply. “We need to break up.”

The words hit harder than any hateful comment ever could.

Your breath caught. “No.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s the only way.”

“No, it’s not.” You shook your head, voice trembling. “We can get through this. You don’t have to—”

“I do.”

You took a step toward him. “Jihoon, we can figure this out. We always do.”

Not this time.Not when loving him meant ruining you.

“I won’t let them destroy you.” His voice wavered, and he hated himself for it.

“You don’t deserve this.” Tears slipped down your cheeks.

“Then don’t do this. Please.” you begged weakly.

“I already made up my mind. All this happening was making my head hurts.” he spoke in a cold voice. “I'm getting annoyed by all of it.” his voiced is like a dagger thrown straight to your heart.

For the first time since he met you, Jihoon turned his back on you. Because if he looked at you any longer, he would break.

There was no hesitation in his voice. Just a quiet finality that made your chest ache.

Your fingers curled into your sleeves. “Jihoon, please don’t do this.”

His eyes finally met yours. And for a second, you saw the truth, saw the war raging inside him, the love he was trying to bury under the weight of the choice he had to make.

Then he looked away.

“It was never supposed to be serious.”

The world tilted. An audible surprised gasp leave your lips at that.

“What?” Your voice barely came out.

“This. Us.” His words were precise, each syllable cutting deeper. “It was just… a distraction.”

A lie.

A cruel, calculated lie.

Your throat burned. “You don’t mean that.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

It did. It mattered more than anything.

You wanted to scream at him, shake him, make him admit that he was doing this to protect you. But you also knew Jihoon, he knew that when he decided something, there was no changing his mind.

So you took a breath, forcing yourself to stay steady.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His expression didn’t change, but his hands trembled at his sides.

You stepped back, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I hope… your career is worth it.”

Then you turned and walked away.

And Jihoon let you go.

The next morning, the official statement was released.

'We regret to inform you that Lee Jihoon (Woozi) was involved in a personal matter that has caused distress among fans. After careful discussion, both parties have decided to part ways, acknowledging that certain relationships can interfere with professional obligations. Moving forward, we ask for fans’ continued support as Woozi's dedicates himself fully to his career.'

No mention of love. No acknowledgment of the pain. Just a cold, clinical dismissal of everything you had been to each other.

And just like that, the storm passed.

The fans forgave him. His name cleared. The world moved on.

But Jihoon didn’t.

He drowned himself in work, filled his days with schedules, filled his nights with unfinished songs. He convinced himself it was for the best.

But then he sat in his studio, staring at the empty chair across from him, fingers frozen above the piano keys.

And for the first time in his life...

Lee Jihoon had nothing left to write.

[dorabellingham]

Mini Bellingham

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when after fans suspect, you actually find out you're pregnant

may contain spelling and translation errors!

A few weeks after the last wave of rumors that Jude Bellingham was going to be a father, you realized that something was really different. It wasn't just the slight swelling in your shirt, nor the symptoms that you attributed to the fast pace of travel and the crazy routine in Madrid. After a few days of feeling more tired than usual and having some morning sickness, you decided to put the doubt to rest once and for all.

The next morning, you took a pregnancy test from the bathroom, and a few minutes later, the two little lines appeared on the screen, confirming what you didn't even know you were expecting: you were pregnant. The emotion was intense and immediate. You laughed to yourself, tears welling up in surprise, and you stood there, absorbing the feeling of now having a precious and charming secret to share with Jude.

You knew he needed a surprise to match. After all, if the love of your life was going to find out he was going to be a father, it had to be in the most special way possible. You quickly planned a gesture that was symbolic and at the same time very much connected to the dream you both shared. In the following days, you sneaked out to organize everything: a mini-uniform of the English national team with the number ten and the name Bellingham on the back. You thought of every detail and, to make the surprise complete, you put together a kit with the uniform, the pregnancy test and a handwritten letter.

On the weekend, Jude arrived home after a hard training session, without thinking about anything. He was hungry and just wanted to rest. You smiled when you saw him come in distracted, already taking off his boots and adjusting his shirt. As soon as he sat down on the sofa, you approached him smiling and held out a small box with a red bow, which he accepted, confused.

—Is this… a present?

Jude asked, arching an eyebrow with a curious expression. You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement, and shook your head.

—Go on, open it!

You said, with a smile that you could barely contain.

The eldest Bellingham opened the box and, when he pulled off the tissue paper, he came across the small uniform of the English national team. He looked at you with a surprised expression, not fully understanding, until he saw the pregnancy test. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a smile of complete surprise and disbelief.

—Babe…? —He could barely speak, swallowing hard. —Are you… serious?

You nodded, smiling with your eyes full of tears.

—Congratulations, daddy!

You whispered, the words almost coming out like a melody.

He laughed, a surprised laugh, his face hidden in his hands as he processed the news. Emotion took over him, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, long hug, laughing and crying at the same time.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Jude pulled away enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with happiness.

—A mini Bellingham… I can’t believe it! I’m already the luckiest man in the world just to have you, and now… Is this real?

You laughed, wiping a tear from his face.

—It’s real. And you know what’s funny? I think even your fans were already suspicious. But now, only the two of us know.

He looked at the mini-uniform in his hands, turning it over and getting lost in the details.

—I don’t even know how to thank you for giving me the greatest gift in the world, Y/n.

He kissed the top of your head, then brought his hand to your belly, still flat, but which would soon begin to show the first signs of this new phase.

You took the letter, handing it to him.

—There’s one more thing.

He opened the envelope carefully and read, still emotional:

"Dear Jude,

Thank you for being the best partner and the love of my life. I knew I wanted you to be the father of my children from the moment I realized I would do anything to be by your side. Today, I begin a new journey by your side, and I can only imagine how much we will love this baby. Our baby.

Thank you for everything, and thank you for being you. With all my love,

Y/n."

Jude could barely contain his emotion as he finished reading the letter. He looked at you, touched, and simply said.

—I love you more than anything in this world, love. More than I ever thought possible. And now... now there are three of us.

You snuggled into his arms, feeling completely at peace. From that moment on, your world was bigger, more complete, and the wait for that little Bellingham would be the sweetest of all.

[bigglywiggly]

The day had finally come, you were finally going to meet the girl of your dreams, in person! Her name was Honey, she was a beauty streamer you had been watching for ages. Try-on hauls, pool streams, workout videos, all of it, you'd been here number 1 fan since day 1, donating thousands of dollars over the years to fund her lavish lifestyle, sending skimpy clothes and outfits for her to try on during her streams. To say you were smitten was an understatement. You would've done anything for even a minute with her, and luckily, that day had finally come.

One day, as you're tuning in to her stream, she posts a link on her page for "boyfriend applications." She wants to let her fans submit credentials and headshots for a chance to get more intimate with her, in a more personal way. You were astounded by this and instantly clicked the link and submitted an application. Seemed like pretty basic questions: height, weight, income, a headshot, basic things to understand the attractiveness and practicality of a person she deemed dateable. After filling it out to the best of your ability, you sent it in, a flutter and a hope in your chest. After, you tuned into the rest of the stream for the night.

The next week didn't go by quickly. Every day, you would sign in, check your inbox, emails, in hopes to see a response. As the end of the week neared, you lost all hope until you heard that melodious ding on your phone. At the top of your mailbox, you saw a new, unread email from who else, but Honey.

"Wow, you're super cute! I'd love to get to know you better, we should totally meet up!"

You almost dropped your phone, the air left your lungs and you were astounded, you punched and kicked yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Nope. This was real. This was happening.

After that, time flew by to this very day. You had hopped aboard a plane, flew across the country, took an Uber to her house and were now standing on her doorstep. The reality of it all was finally hitting you. What if this was a scam? You'd heard about these fake streamers that lure unsuspecting fans out to these abandoned homes and robbed them, leaving them with nothing. This surely wasn't one of those times, right? Maybe you should text someone to let them know where you were? No, there's no way your parents would understand, and your friends would just mock you for being some sort of pathetic weirdo. You'd gotten this far, you were gonna see it through.

You walked up to the door, with a pit in your stomach, and shaking, reached up to press the doorbell.

*RING*

Silence. You sat there for a few seconds, but nobody showed. Was this all fake? You went to ring again, out of hope, when you heard footsteps from behind the door. Fairly heavy footsteps. You could almost feel it, and...were the sidelights shaking? Must've been your imagination. 3 more thuds and you heard the lock click. Then another lock. 3 locks? That seemed odd, but who knows, she's pretty famous, can't have enough security right? The door swung open, and the first thing you saw made your jaw drop.

"Hey cutie~!"

You looked up and there she was. As stunning as the day you first tuned into her stream. Face first with the most incredible curves you'd ever seen, if you weren't so entranced with her body, you may have also picked up on the sheer height of her. You weren't short by any means, you stood at a comfortable 5'11, but this woman was something else. As she filled the door frame, you were face to face with a trench of cleavage that could strangle an elephant.

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Honey! I see you've met the rest of me already! *Giggle*

You blushed, quickly snapping your head up to meet her gaze. As you locked eyes with her, it was like the whole world vanished. Pale, blue swimming pools stared straight into your soul, piercing through you.

"Umm..sorry. Yeah, hi, ma'am, I'm-"

"Oh sweetie, I know who you are! And what's with the ma'am? It's Honey!"

She playfully pushed your shoulder, slightly for her, but you felt there was some gusto as it almost made you step back.

"Well come on in! No use standing outside gabbin!"

She stepped to the side and gestured you in, you carefully stepped into the house, walking light footed as if you needed to be delicate or careful, like what you were doing was lascivious.

"Take your shoes off, make yourself comfortable!"

She spoke behind you, closing the door and doing up the 3 locks.

"I don't often get visitors here, so apologies if the place is a bit messy!"

As you walked into the house, something already felt odd. Like there was a chill in here of sorts, but you figured it was just from standing with the door open so long. You heard her thuds from behind and she walked past you, beckoning you to follow her into the main area. Following her, you started to take in your surroundings. Pictures on the wall of just Honey, all above your head though, if she lives alone it makes sense though, but to only have pictures of yourself up seemed a bit odd, no?

Stepping into the main area, you encountered another odd feeling as you took it all in. The furniture was surprisingly tall, taller than you'd seen. The couch looked like it came up to your waist. Stools at the kitchen counter were almost shoulder height to you. Had she custom ordered all this furniture? Some of it almost seemed even too tall for her?

"I see you noticed the furniture, don't worry, I'm still growing into it myself!"

Growing into it? What was that supposed to mean? Maybe just a figure of speech? You pondered this as you saw her walk over to the couch and plop down. She shot you a glance and patted the cushion next to her.

"Come sit! We should get to know each other better, this is our first time after all."

You awkwardly smiled back at her as you walked over to the couch. As you got closer to the furniture, your observations weren't unfounded, this couch was truly massive. Her sitting on it made it look like a normal sized piece of upholstery, but next to you, it made you feel like a kid again.

"Sorry, couch is a little high, I gotcha though!"

"What do you-?"

No sooner did the words come out as she put two hands under your arms and lifted you up, with ease, and plopped you down on the cushion beside her.

"Wow, you feel a lot lighter than you listed on your application! Granted, maybe this growing girl just doesn't know her own strength yet!"

Growing girl? Twice now she's referenced growing and still it made no sense. This girl was already massive and clearly approaching 30, how in the world was she growing?

"So, before we start, I wanted to thank you. I've noticed you in my streams for the last couple years. I see the donations you send and the clothes you ask me to try on. No doubt these gals have caught your eye." She shimmied her shoulders and gestured to the heaving shelf of breast hanging from her torso.

"I appreciate the clothes a lot, it's never easy covering these puppies up, believe you me. I swear, they eat up whatever I cover myself with and then some."

You blushed, she was clearly very comfortable in her skin, I mean hell, she shows herself off online for millions of people to see, why were you surprised. You kept darting glances down to her chest as she spoke. God they were huge, unrealistically so. How could something so massive come into being? Something so warm and inviting yet erotic and arousing all at the same time.

"Ahem. Did you hear anything I just said?"

"What? Sorry, I was jus-"

*Giggle*

"I'm just messing with ya! You clearly are having a little trouble paying attention, almost like somethings...caught your attention?"

She slowly rose from the couch and crawled towards you. Her heaving chest swinging from even the slightest motion as she closed the distance between you. The closer she got, the more of your vision was obscured by that inviting trench in front of you. God what you wouldn't have given to dive right in there.

"Ya know...these girls really have a mind of their own sometimes...they get hungry, and when that happens, there isn't much I can do to calm em down. They just keep growing, year after year, bigger and bigger as time passes."

Inches from your face now, you can smell the sweat from her skin as her cleavage floods your vision. Swinging, back and forth, pendulously in your face, they're all you can see.

"Would you like to...see them get even bigger?"

Oh god. You're on the brink, you feel your faculties leaving you, almost as if you're regressing to a more animalistic state. You need to touch them, feel them, taste them, you need to be between them now. In an instant you throw up your hands on either side and dive face first into that canyon.

*Giggle* "You're not one to mince words, are ya? Just going headfirst, well don't let me stop ya, explore to your heart's content."

You mash your face in between them, pressing down on either side, burying your face more and more. The more you explore these mighty breasts of hers, the more you seem to lose yourself, the less the world around you seems to matter. Squeezing, smushing, licking, this has become your world now.

"There's a good boy, you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

Her voice invades your mind and almost snaps you out of your trance, you start to notice little changes. When were you on her lap? Was she always caressing your back? Wow, these breasts truly are enormous, it's incredible how your hands just...sink into them like pudding. It's almost like...the longer you caress and squeeze, the bigger they get...

As these thoughts flood in, you notice that you're struggling to breathe a little. You haven't come up for air in a while. You try to pry the breasts back a little bit to let yourself some air but...they won't budge? In fact, they feel so heavy, you're hardly even squishing into them anymore. You place your hands on the front of her breasts and start pulling back, trying to pry your head free, until you finally released yourself with an audible *POP* and tumble backwards.

The world all slowly comes back into view, your surroundings start to become more clear, but something's off now. You start to pull yourself up to stand, but feel the couch beneath your feet? Your senses start to come back rapidly as you see you're standing on the couch, but the back of the couch is towering over you. You gulp, shocked and start to panic.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Shhh, sweetie, relax."

You hear her low, sultry voice as you look back on her and almost fall back by what you see. There she is, on the far side of the couch, vastly looming over you. From your vantage point, she must be at least 35ft tall.

"What's going on?! What did you do to me?!"

"Aww, baby, can't you tell yet?"

She reaches out to you, you quiver as you see her gigantic hand approaching you, each finger bigger than a summer sausage. You try to push her hand away, but to no avail, she's far, far stronger than you. She wraps her fingers around your torso, lifts you up and carries you over to her face.

"Sweet pee, I wish you could see how cute you are right now. You're like a little bitty toy. You've done so much for me already, I wanted to thank you. You've really made an excellent donation."

"Donation?? What do you mean? Why am I so small? Change me back!!"

"Oh hon, I wish I could but your size is going to somewhere much greater. Just watch."

You see her bite her lip as the changes slowly take effect. You hear a subtle groaning as you witness her transform before your very eyes. You first notice the fingers holding you in place start to thicken, covering more and more of your torso. Then you see her thighs slowly plumpen, growing thicker and lusher. Then you notice the biggest part: her chest. Each breast begins to balloon, almost as if inflating, growing outwards and upwards, you can hear her bra beginning to creak and snap under her newfound weight. Her tank top straps strain and spaghetti before snapping and falling limply down her torso.

By the time it's all done, you see her take a deep breath as the tatters of her old outfit start to slip away.

"Wow, that was the best one yet! I just knew you'd be my biggest supporter. Apologies for these old rags though" as she gestures to her clothes, "allow me to slip into something more...fitting."

In a flash, you see the clothes on her body begin to morph, a black tank slowly forms from her old rags and lines up to hoist up her immensely enhanced bust. The straps, incredibly thin, squish down into her soft, pliable flesh.

"There, that looks better on me, dontcha think?"

"What the hell is going on?? How are you doing this? Why are you doing this?!"

She lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Hon, how do you think I got like this in the first place? How do you think I got this incredible body that lead to all these followers and all this fame? Donations of course! The sweet, perverted masses like yourself that so kindly add to, well, these masses!" She says as she honks her left breast, it's girth pouring out between her fingers.

"But, why? You don't even know me! I loved you and your content, I was happy to make those donations if they made you happy!"

"Hon, you and I both know why you made donations to begin with. You haven't been able to look at anything else since you got here, that's why you came here in the first place. You don't care about me as a person, you care about this body. Well, now you've made a contribution to the maintaining and improving of this body! You're almost there!"

You feel a sinking feeling in your chest as you swallow deeply.

"Almost?"

She flashes you a devious grin.

"Of course, hon." She speaks in a deep, sultry tone. "There's still so much of you left."

Your eyes open wide as you start kicking and flailing in her grasp, doing anything you can to get away from this monster, but to no avail.

She lets out a low, echoing chuckle, "You'll have to try harder than that, hon! I can hardly feel your weight, let alone your struggles! And as much as I LOVE watching your little flailings, Mama's got a stream to do tonight, so."

And with that, she slowly brings you closer to her chest, dangling you above the gully that is her cleavage, and flashes you one last smile.

"Thanks for the donation, hon!"

With that, she stuffs you down between her breasts, deep, deep down, almost as if into the core of some desolate planet. As she reaches the centre, she releases her grip on you and retracts her hand. What little light you see from above vanishes as her hand leaves your prison and the crushing weight of her bust surrounds you. You try to move, try to kick, punch, scream, bite, anything, to no avail. You feel a vibration echo around you, clearly she's laughing at your struggles. The pounding of her heart starts to fill your ears, it's low, resonating rumble almost calming you as you miserably accept your fate. You close your eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

-Hours later-

You slowly awaken, hot and sweaty, a dry scratchy feeling in your throat, no doubt from your screaming. You're not sure where you are though, your eyes are hazy and struggling to adjust to the darkness, but you see a small sliver of a silvery haze far, far, far above you. Moonlight? You reach out for it, only to feel a warm, moist mass beside you. What is this? It almost feels like-

Your heart starts racing. You start to panic and snap your head around to acquaint yourself with your surroundings, until you hear a loud, roaring rumble echo around you. A snore. You find yourself plastered to the side of her breast, deep within her bosom, the sliver of light a small amount of moonlight peaking into her cleavage. You try to yell out, but you're still hoarse. You can hardly move your limbs as you try to scratch her breast. You feel a sudden movement as you think you've gotten her attention. Your hopes are instantly crushed as the light vanishes and you start to feel the weight of her other tit come crushing down on you. Your incredibly mild annoyance only caused her to roll over in her sleep, crushing you further down as the goddess around you rests. All that's left to hear is the subtle beat of her heart all around you.

You close your eyes and let out a single tear as you accept your fate, the irony of the situation finally settling in.

You always wanted to contribute to those beautiful breasts, and now, you finally have.

[wethotcrazy]

GIVE IT A CHANCE

pairing: Ollie Bearman x Fem Driver! K-pop Fan! Reader

word count: 2495

this idea came to me in a prophetic vision as i was listening to ETA by NewJeans, yk he just has that face idk how to explain it.

The early morning simulator room was dim and quiet as Ollie stepped in, rubbing his eyes and adjusting to the light. He wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there at this hour, which is why he was surprised when he heard upbeat music pulsing softly through the room, lyrics in Korean threading through a catchy beat.

It didn’t take him long to spot Y/N, her head bobbing to the rhythm, her eyes focused on her screen. She was wearing her headphones halfway, one ear open, giving her full control of the simulator’s settings—and, evidently, the speakers.

"Didn’t think anyone would be up this early,” Ollie said with a smirk, hoping to catch her off guard.

But Y/N didn’t even flinch. She simply smiled, her eyes sparkling with a playful look. “Oh, yeah… first in gets speaker rights, haha…,” she replied, turning up the volume just a little. “You don’t mind, right?"

Ollie shrugged, a little charmed by her confidence. "Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.”

With a laugh, Y/N launched the next song, not hesitating to dive into a quick explanation of how NewJeans had taken over the K-pop world lately. Ollie listened, half-amused, half-impressed. She talked about girl groups like they were close friends, like they were just as important to her racing routine as the car itself. As she continued to gush, he found himself caught up in her excitement, almost convinced by her infectious enthusiasm.

She noticed his curious glances and laughed, nudging him. "You know, it’s actually quite nice, Ollie. You should give it a chance."

Ollie just smiled, making a noncommittal noise. He didn’t know much about K-pop, and he didn’t think he’d ever see himself adding it to his playlist. But then he caught himself humming one of the melodies later that day—an upbeat tune from Twice that he’d heard during the simulator session. It kept popping back into his head when he least expected it, like a pleasant earworm he didn’t want to get rid of.

Over the next few weeks, something shifted.

Ollie found himself scrolling through her social media in his downtime, watching the TikToks of Y/N’s “pre-race rituals” she posted. She’d film herself doing girl group choreography in her racing suit, top half hanging around her waist as she danced to songs that were clearly meaningful to her. Fans loved it, and so did he. There was something endearing about her passion, and the way she didn’t hesitate to share it with the world. Somehow, it made her feel even more real, like there was a part of her that was untouched by the pressure and intensity of racing.

One day, he came across a clip of her dancing to a song by Le Sserafim. She was focused, but her expression was soft, full of joy, as if nothing else existed in that moment but the beat and the moves. It made him smile, watching her in her element like that. Without even realizing it, he saved the clip, something he’d catch himself watching on repeat whenever he needed a moment of calm.

He didn’t notice the change right away, but slowly, his playlists began filling up with the songs she loved. He’d go to sleep with the catchy hooks of K-pop songs playing in his head, and he’d wake up humming them, much to his own surprise.

The next time they met for simulator training, Ollie arrived a little earlier than usual. He saw her slip into the room with her headphones on, smiling to herself as she tapped her fingers to a beat he couldn’t hear. Instead of waiting for her to notice him, he took out his phone, tapping to play one of the songs she’d shown him before. The room filled with the familiar sound of a NewJeans track, and she whipped around, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Ollie!” she gasped, laughter bubbling up. “Did you just put on K-pop?”

He grinned, feeling a strange thrill at her reaction. “Well, it grows on you, I guess.”

Y/N looked at him with a mix of pride and amusement. "I never thought I’d see the day! So… favorite group?”

“Don’t make me choose,” he joked, but he was a little flustered by her excitement. “But if I had to, I’d say… maybe Twice? Or, you know, New Jeans.”

She clapped her hands, beaming. “See? I told you! K-pop’s addictive.”

The two of them shared a quiet laugh, and Ollie couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through his chest. It was more than just the music now—it was the way they’d found this new connection, something that felt personal and easy, a side of Y/N that he felt lucky to know.

On race day, Ollie arrived a bit earlier, hoping to catch a glimpse of her “pre-race ritual.” He didn’t have to wait long. Y/N was in her own little world, music playing on her phone as she moved through the steps of a quick choreography, fluid and confident. She didn’t see him at first, and he took a moment just to watch, a smile tugging at his lips. She was magnetic, her energy infectious, and he found himself tapping his foot along to the beat.

Finally, she looked up and caught him watching, cheeks pink as she laughed. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he said, stepping closer. “You know, maybe if racing doesn’t work out you could debut as an idol.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah right, okay…”

They shared a grin, a quiet moment of understanding passing between them. Ever since that first K-pop-filled simulator session, their dynamic has changed. He’d go out of his way to make their training schedules align, just so he could listen with her, maybe pick up a new song or two to tease her about later.

And though he’d never say it out loud, watching her dance, knowing these little rituals were her way of staying grounded… it felt like his own way of connecting with her. A small piece of her world that she’d let him into.

As the season went on, fans began to notice Ollie’s subtle transformation. In interviews, he’d mention her more often, usually with a smile when asked about their friendship. Some eagle-eyed fans even caught him humming a few K-pop melodies during Prema videos, and speculation spread across social media like wildfire.

When someone finally asked him about it, he shrugged with a grin. "Guess Y/N has good taste," he said, leaving it at that.

But in truth, it wasn’t just about the music. Every song reminded him of her laugh, her energy, and the way she found joy in something so different from racing. It was a little ritual, a small way to stay close, even during the busiest days. And though he didn’t know exactly when it had happened, somewhere along the line, Ollie realized that maybe K-pop wasn’t the only thing he’d grown attached to.

Ollie’s transformation was undeniable. Y/N’s playlist had become the soundtrack to his days, whether it was Le Sserafim blaring in the simulator, NewJeans playing through his earbuds on race day, or even the quieter Twice ballads that had somehow snuck into his late-night wind-down routine. He’d catch himself mouthing along to the lyrics, subconsciously practicing bits of choreography he’d pick up from YN, his own private tribute to her.

Of course, his friends at Prema and a few of the other drivers started to notice, and the teasing came swiftly.

“Are those Twice lyrics I hear, Ollie?” Kimi called one day in the paddock, his grin practically splitting his face.

Ollie rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t fight off the smile. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Kimi raised his hands in surrender, still laughing. “Hey, hey—no shame in it, man. Just didn’t know our resident racing prodigy was also a K-pop aficionado.”

“Yeah, next thing you know, you’ll be wearing matching outfits with Y/N and doing TikTok dances before races!” joked another driver, Dino, who’d caught Ollie attempting one of Y/N’s routines before practice one day.

Ollie could only laugh, brushing off the comments with a shrug. “She would be more than happy to teach you guys too,” he quipped, throwing a wink at Y/N, who was watching the whole thing with an amused grin.

As the season rolled on, Ollie’s transformation was undeniable. Y/N’s playlist had become the soundtrack to his days, whether it was Le Sserafim blaring in the simulator, NewJeans playing through his earbuds on race day, or even the quieter Twice ballads that had somehow snuck into his late-night wind-down routine. He’d catch himself mouthing along to the lyrics, subconsciously practicing the moves Y/N had taught him, his own private tribute to the friend who’d somehow changed his life with her love for K-pop.

Of course, his friends at Prema and a few of the other drivers started to notice, and the teasing came swiftly.

“Are those Twice lyrics I hear, Ollie?” Kimi called one day in the paddock, his grin practically splitting his face.

Ollie rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t fight off the smile. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Kimi raised his hands in surrender, still laughing. “Hey, hey—no shame in it, man. Just didn’t know our resident racing prodigy was also a K-pop aficionado.”

“Yeah, next thing you know, you’ll be wearing matching outfits with Y/N and doing TikTok dances before races!” joked another driver, Max, who’d caught Ollie attempting one of Y/N’s routines before practice one day.

Ollie could only laugh, brushing off the comments with a shrug. “If you want to keep up, maybe you should get on the trend too. Y/N would be more than happy to teach you guys some moves,” he quipped, throwing a wink at Y/N, who was watching the whole thing with an amused grin.

As the season progressed, he found himself leaning into it, not just to keep up with Y/N but because he genuinely enjoyed it. He started keeping tabs on comebacks, messaging her when a new song dropped, sending her clips and asking which choreography she was going to master next. Y/N would respond with enthusiastic voice notes, her excitement filling his inbox with laughter and inside jokes.

One night, during a particularly tense week before a race, Y/N shot him a message just past midnight.

Y/N: Can’t sleep. Found this new song from a girl group I think you’ll love. Wanna come around to listen?

Ollie didn’t think twice, slipping out of his flat and finding her in her own dimly lit living room, her phone ready with a new track queued up. She played it softly, the two of them listening together in the quiet, just sharing a moment of calm before the chaos of the upcoming race. It became their routine—a new song here, a dance there, small moments that only they shared.

One rainy afternoon at the track, while they were waiting for a rain delay to clear, Ollie watched Y/N from a distance, bouncing slightly on her toes, moving through the motions of a dance routine that was clearly second nature to her. She didn’t have the music on this time, but she didn’t need it; every beat, every move was etched into her memory. Her racing suit was half off, hanging around her waist, her fireproofs slightly damp from the humidity, but she was lost in her world.

Kimi sidled up next to him, noticing where his attention had drifted.

“You’ve got it bad, mate,” he said, crossing his arms, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Bet you know more K-pop routines than any of us now.”

Ollie shrugged, unable to keep the warmth from spreading across his cheeks. “It’s… fun. And it’s kind of relaxing, you know?”

“Yeah, it’s not just about the music, though, is it?” Kimi shot him a pointed look, which Ollie pretended not to notice. “Come on, we all see the way you look at her. Even my mum could pick up on it.”

Ollie laughed, trying to brush it off, but deep down, he knew Kimi was right. It wasn’t just the music that drew him in anymore—it was the way Y/N shared it with him, like she was letting him into a part of herself that was untouched by the pressure of racing. Every song was a glimpse into her world, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful that she’d let him in.

Finally, it all came to a head one evening after a particularly intense race. Y/N had performed spectacularly, finishing on the podium, and the team celebrated with a late dinner at a nearby restaurant. There was laughter, cheers, and, of course, someone brought out a portable speaker to keep the energy up.

Y/N, still buzzing with excitement, nudged Ollie, her eyes gleaming. “Alright, Bearman,” she said, her tone playful but challenging. “You’ve been following K-pop all season, so it’s about time you proved yourself. How about a little dance-off?”

Ollie blinked, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “You’re joking.”

“Come on!” she urged, and the others at the table started chanting his name, egging him on. “Show us what you’ve got!”

With a reluctant grin, he got up, and she queued up one of her favorite songs from Le Sserafim, the opening beats pulsing through the room. They started off slow, her laughter contagious as she showed him the steps. To everyone’s surprise (and Kimi’s endless amusement), he actually kept up with her (though timidly), moving through the choreography they’d practiced during one of their late-night sessions in her flat.

The team erupted in applause when they finished, a little breathless, a little flushed. Y/N beamed up at him, her hand squeezing his arm. “You’re not half bad, Bearman,” she said, her voice soft, only loud enough for him to hear. “Guess I really did a good job with you, huh?”

He looked down at her, the noise around them fading to a hum. “Yeah,” he replied, voice low. “You definitely did.”

For a moment, they stood there, surrounded by their friends but entirely in their own little bubble. He felt like saying something else, something about how her music had come to mean so much more to him than just catchy beats and routines. But he didn’t need to say it; the look in her eyes told him she understood.

And in that shared, unspoken moment, Ollie realized that the season wasn’t just about racing anymore. It was about every song, every laugh, every quiet moment they’d stolen away to be themselves. Maybe K-pop had been the start of it, but what it had led to was something he wouldn’t trade for anything.

K-pop might’ve been her world first, but now, in some small way, it felt like their world too.

[quirekey]

Can you do headcanons for TFOne Bee x Cybertronian Femme!Reader, that is a musician whose personality is the opposite of Bee's?

AWW THIS IS ADORABLE!! Elegant-musician reader :D I love this idea sm

[ BUMBLEBEE ] x [ FEMME!READER ]

[ bumblebee x cybertronian!femme!musician!reader ]

[ I’m gonna be so real, I put a hella lot of effort in this ]

READER INTRO

You were a famous and talented multi-instrument player who was known for being mysterious and elegant. Your music was soothing and soft which also reflected your personality. Most of the time, you played a Cybertronian instrument that represented a harp. You never smiled too much nor did you express strong emotions. Iacon did not flourish in the arts and musical area and you're one of the only Cybertronians in Iacon that actually make this topic thrive. You invent new instruments and play magical songs on the streets to show others that you are doing this for a meaningful reason.

( Yes I’m doing this now, it may make for some good reader OCs )

HEADCANONS

[ Bumblebee isn’t stuck at SUB-LEVEL 50, but is merely very bad at his current position as a miner. ]

- The way Bumblebee found out about your existence when he saw many posters alongside a wall full of famous Iacon celebrities. While most of them were either racers, scientists or a high-guard, you stood out. You looked so graceful in your poster, calming colours surrounding your frame and some light text. This was how his love for you started.

- You often play your infamous harp on pretty popular streets. Cybertronians love to come by and greet you, encouraging you to continue your personal pathway to spread music. Bumblebee would be jumping and cheering for you while everybody is politely listening. You may be a bit annoyed but he’s a little adorable too.

- When Bumblebee decided to actually talk to you, he was surprisingly very outgoing. The conversation went off-track, it went from your popularity to how important energon is. You liked his little personality so you guys gained contacts.

- Ever since you guys got into contact, you would bring him around to less busy streets in case it doesn’t work out. If it is an empty day, you would bring a simpler version of your harp and give it to Bumblebee, showing him how to strum and create melodies. Bee has definitely broken many strings but it's merely because he isn’t paitent enough.

- Fans recognised you hanging out with this ‘Yellow, bulky guy’ and due to the population, rumours spread fast. Many cybertronians thought you guys were just two best friends but many others thought it was more than that. The crowd is persuasive and you slowly did gain feelings for the yellow goofball. You hated it but you have to accept the truth.

- The rumours only made you two closer. The way you two would laugh about how ‘strange and stupid’ these theories were and that it will probably never happen. This did hurt you and your chances to be with him.

- Bee is a pretty impulsive and carefree bot, so when he suddenly confessed to you mid-conversation, you were both surprised and not. Surprised that he would actually like somebot like you but not surprised that he just blurted something massive out of nowhere. You said you liked him back and that’s when something special started, it was opposites attracting.

- You two decided to date in secret since there were some strange cybertronians making theories about you and Bee. This was obviously wrong and made you uncomfortable, but Bee was able to help you out, only seeing the fun side of it. He said a lot of points like ‘More people will support us!’ Or ‘We may get free gifts.’. This helped you out when Bumblebee showed PDA.

- When you and Bee started dating, oh how ecstatic he was. He kept praising everything about you, turning into a silly gentleman and just being a cute sparkmate. When Bee told Orion Pax and D16, the two were starstruck. Literally an absolutely famous musician is dating a bot who could barely mine? That seemed unimaginable to D16, Orion was pretty proud of the little bot.

- You two would go out together every time instead of empty days ever since you guys started dating. Bumblebee would hold back from showing romantic affection and tries his best to make it seem platonic if he does. Sometimes, there are many Cybertronians asking for your signature or are just taking up your attention and this gets to Bumblebee’s nerves fast. He wants your attention, he should get them. If this is the case, he would just pull you away and hug you. Lucky for him, you wouldn’t stop him nor did you stop giving your fans some attention.

[yanderedbdimagines]

Hi ! I love your work and I saw requests were open !! I was wondering if you could write something about Trickster going sentient, like reader is a DBD player and Trickster is their killer main and he's becoming sentient ! He starts acting yandere, getting mad when they buy another killer, talking to them through the game etc ? Pleaaase !!

----------

Thank you so much for appreciating my work!

And of course! Trickster has always been one of my favorite go-to killers as well. He still kind of is! He may not look terrifying at first glance, but what he’s capable of is what truly makes him scary to me. I tried to capture that feeling in this piece as well. Also, I believe his anger would actually be quite subtle, put potent in a way. He's called the Trickster for a reason after all. :P Especially towards his obsession.

PS: If any character in the game somehow became sentient, I’d throw my computer out immediately. Let alone a killer! I would totally freak out! xD

PSS: I don't know any Korean. If I messed it up by using translators wrong, I'm sorry in advance!

-----------

Warning!: NSFW elements present!

The Trickster

Ji-Woon Hak had always been your go-to killer. Maybe it was the thrill of playing him. The way he laughed in insanity, coupled with that crazed giggle as he chased survivors down, and the sheer passion and arrogance laced through his Korean voice lines. His presence in the game simply felt different from the others. All the way down to his disturbingly good chase music, which is an excellent representation to his character.

And as such, he’s indeed a star. Effortlessly charming and dangerously captivating. Before the Entity took him, the crowds adored him for a reason, oblivious to the gleam in his golden eyes when the screams began behind closed doors, embedded into his music like secret, bloody confessions. They never recognized the torture hidden in his music, layered beneath the melody like a secret only he was twisted enough to understand.

Killing wasn’t just second nature to Ji-Woon. It was the purest form of his self-expression.

And to you, that was the real horror. Because unlike many others in the Entity’s grasp, he wasn’t a monster made. He was a monster born. Just another handsome face, smiling for the cameras, waving to his adoring fans. His darkest secrets not buried, but hidden in plain sight. Or more so within earshot. And no one ever dared to hear them until it was too late.

Maybe that was why, after months of playing Dead by Daylight, you never really strayed from him. You bought his skins, experimented with his builds, mastered his mechanics and the precise arc of his blades. He was your constant pick.

So at first, the strange things that eventually started to happen didn’t really bother you.

It began in the character selection screen. His model glitched once. A wide smirk suddenly etching itself onto his features. He turned around more often while you waited in lobby, flashing you that saucy wink of his. There was a slight lag when you hovered over another killer, an occasional stutter in his idle animations, a minor bug where his eyes tracked your cursor just a bit too smoothly.

You decided to ignored it.

Then the loading screens started taking longer. Freezing for a second too long when his face suddenly appeared, as if the game itself hesitated. And once, in the middle of a match, you left the desk for a moment to grab something from your drawer, letting the killer stand idle in a house in Springwood.

That was when you heard it, just as you returned. Faint. Threading between the distant caws of crows and the crackle of the Entity’s realm. A voice, which sounded silky and teasing. Familiar.

"Getting distracted, 자기야1?"

Your hand jerked on the mouse. It had to be a bug. A voice line triggering where it shouldn’t. You brushed it off as a trick of the mind.

Then, after a while, the disconnects started. Not often, but just enough to be annoying. Almost every time you played another killer, you’d be booted mid-match. No error message. Just a sudden return to the desktop. Whenever you played survivor, you almost always found yourself facing the Trickster, with a hint of a stutter as you tried to get your character away from him.

But when you played as Ji-Woon himself? Smooth. No lag. No crashes.

Still, you pushed it aside. Games had bugs. Maybe the servers were acting up. You refused to get paranoid over minor issues, or the fact that barely any other killer ever appeared when you played survivor. Perhaps you just had a weird streak of fate.

Then, one night after watching a video, you tabbed back into the game and noticed that his theme music in the killer selection menu was different. Slower and warped. Like it was played underwater. The Trickster was staring at you. Not in his usual cocky way, but with his head tilted slightly, his smile smaller than usual and his golden eyes literally locked onto yours. As if he were waiting for something.

The screen glitched once, then again, and everything returned to normal. But matches grew even more strange after that. Survivors went down faster, their screams more real and distorted and their models twitching unnaturally. It scared you.

If you played as a different killer, you’d get disconnected mid-match much faster. Yet whenever you switched back to Trickster, the game stabilized.

Then one night, you apparently made a mistake. Out of curiosity, you went up and purchased another killer. the Oni, which you considered to be a change of pace. The moment you returned to the killer selection screen, it flickered; static sprinkling the menu. Trickster’s model was there on the right, but his grin had vanished. His head tilted, his bright pupils narrowed into thin slits of displeasure.

Your hands trembled over the keyboard. “It’s just a game…” you murmured, shaking your head and blinking a few times. Then his voice, unlike any recorded line or in-game effect, but unmistakably real, echoed through your headset. Smooth and cold.

"Not to me, 공주님2."

Deep down, you knew this game was no longer the same. But you played it off as a lack of sleep this time around, shut down the PC, and took a well-earned break.

You naively came back a few hours later. You loaded into the Temple of Purgation, picking the Oni. You’d bought him for a reason, after all. But as the match began, the camera panned over the environment and, for a split second just before it faded to your POV, you saw him.

Not the Oni. The Trickster.

He stood at the very edge of the mists, just beyond the temple’s crumbling stone archways. The fog curled unnaturally around him, clinging to his figure like something alive, shifting and parting just enough to reveal the glow of his golden eyes. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t part of the match. He was just… watching.

The moment you took control, he was gone. Your fingers twitched over the keyboard. That wasn’t normal. Maybe a graphical glitch? Some weird overlap from previous matches? You shook it off and pressed forward.

At first, the game ran fine. You chased down survivors, activated your power, played the match as you normally would. But something felt off. A heaviness in the air, a strange, crawling sensation at the back of your neck. Then the game began to stutter. Not lag and neither was it a bug. The frames dragged deliberately, as if the game itself resisted your input. The Oni’s movements felt sluggish, like wading through thick and invisible muck.

And then came the laughter. Soft and breathy, slithering between the sounds of gameplay.

"Tch. This isn’t like you, 자기야1. You’d rather be that clunky old fossil than me? Where’s your sense of taste?" His accent runs heavy alongside the bite in his tone.

Your blood ran cold. That wasn’t an in-game line. Your eyes flicked to one of the killer’s perk icons. Oni’s nemesis perk, just as you’d chosen. For a brief moment, Ji-Woon’s smirking face in a similar art style replaced it before snapping back. Your stomach twisted as another hitch in the frame rate distorted the screen. Pixels twisting as if a presence bled into the code.

"You're ignoring me," he observed, his voice still smooth but tinged with bitter distaste.

The game audio warped beyond recognition, the chase music slowed to a sickening drag then sped up erratically, like a scratched CD skipping. The survivors’ animations twitched unnaturally. Every time you activated the killer’s skill, the deep, guttural roar sounded way off. Higher, smoother, mocking. Obviously replaced with the voice of a certain Killer. "Not so fun, huh?" You hear him huff in amusement, teasing you as he does.

Frustrated, you slammed the Escape key. Nothing happened. The match wasn’t over, but you couldn’t do this anymore. With shaky hands, you forced your PC off manually, the screen cutting to black. Your reflection stared back at you in the dark monitor with wide eyes reflecting unease. You ripped off your headset and exhaled hard. It was just a game, you told yourself. You even debated uninstalling it. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? It’s just a game.

So you didn’t play it for the rest of the night.

The next day, curiosity won out. You had planned to delete the game. To scrub it from your system and be done with whatever hellish events had occurred. But after you booted up your PC, a Steam pop-up appeared.

Your pulse quickened as you skimmed the message.

Dead by Daylight – Security Update

A large leak had been addressed. Some players had reported strange in-game activity. An exploit that allowed hackers to take control of matches, resulting in unusual interactions. The developers apologized for the inconvenience. As compensation, a DLC of your choice would be free upon logging in.

Your fingers hovered over the mouse. This had to be the reason. Just some script kiddies messing with the servers, triggering audio or animation glitches. You exhaled a sigh of relief and launched the game.

The menu loaded smoothly, the music creating a subtle backdrop as you navigated the interface. Your gaze shifted to the killer selection screen. Trickster stood in his usual spot after you’d selected him. His stance casual yet confident, the infamous bat balanced nonchalantly on his shoulder. He executed that distinct head tilt. The one accompanied by an unnecessarily seductive "ah,". At that moment, his animation seemed to hesitate, his eyes lingering on the screen a fraction longer than usual. The light caught his left earring, making it glint momentarily before falling back against his neck due to retaining the previous angle of his head. Then, just as smoothly, the bat returned to his side.

Despite the brief, unsettling pause, his expression remained unchanged. A confident smirk played across his lips when he moved to inspect his bat, his golden eyes glinting with sharp amusement, as if privy to a joke you hadn’t yet figured out. No flickering. No static. Everything appeared perfectly normal.

Your tense shoulders loosened slightly. Maybe you had imagined it all. The breach is fixed, after all. You claimed your free DLC, already planning to test out the desired killer and survivor later. But first… just one more match with the Trickster.

Your cursor hovered over the Play button for a second before you clicked. The match queued instantly. No lobby, no loading delay, no lag. Your gut twisted. As the screen transitioned, unease slithered down your spine. The game had loaded, but something was obviously wrong.

The usual environmental sounds; distant caws of crows, the occasional metallic groan of the Entity’s influence, were gone. You panned the first-person camera over the map. No survivors moved between cover. No crows startled into the air. No gens sparking in the distance. Just you. Alone.

Your eyes darted to the UI. The HUD was intact- your abilities, perks, and power displayed as they should be. And yet, there were no objectives. No unseen timer counting down. No signs of life. Just silence. A cold prickle crawled over your skin.

Then, a soft chuckle. Rich, amused, present. "Finally. Just us." Your breath hitched. The sound came through your headset. Close. Way too close.

The screen flickered. Your blood ran cold.

No…

You tried moving Trickster forward, pressing the left mouse button to swing through the empty air. He responded as normal. Smooth, precise, as if performing a well-rehearsed act. But there was nothing to do. No generators humming to life, no players fleeing, no exit gates. The map lay barren, stripped of its usual chaos. Each time you struck the environment in boredom, a mocking chuckle, sly and knowing, echoed in your ears.

Desperate, you opened the pause menu, but there was no option to leave the game. Your fingers trembled over the keyboard as you muttered, “What the hell is it this time?”

Then a soft laugh, closer and intimate, as though whispered from right beside you. "Aw, don’t look so spooked,공주님2. Isn’t this what you wanted? More time with me?"

Without warning, the camera shifted. Its movement not commanded by you, but as if pulled by an unseen hand. The perspective tilted down ever so slightly, as if the Trickster was studying himself.

No. As if he was studying you.

"You play me so often," his voice purred, smooth as silk and dripping with amusement. "Devoted, aren’t you? You never thought I’d actually notice, did you? Never thought I’d appreciate your little habits?" A chill crawled up your spine.

 “This can’t be it. This isn’t real,” you whispered, almost pleading. “You are not sentient,” you insisted, but your voice wavered- thinning into uncertainty.

"Mmm, that's what you keep telling yourself," he replied, that familiar, teasing lilt threading through his tone. "A cute little parrot, endlessly repeating the same little song. 정말 웃기잖아, 자기야3. If only you repeated my name like that instead. I’m as real as I can get. " Your breathing grew shallow.

Then something shifted in the distance. A subtle, unnatural shadow moving where it shouldn’t be. You spun the camera up and to the side, heart hammering, but the map remained empty. Still, the sensation of being watched crawled over your skin. Your hands grew clammy as you gripped the mouse like a lifeline. You needed to leave. Now.

Alt + F4. Task Manager. Nothing worked. Your pulse pounded in your ears. Your body braced for a potential scenario- the chase, the hunt, the moment his blades would sink into your flesh. You weren’t special. You were just another victim…

Right?

Then the screen flickered. A brief stutter, a pause. For a fraction of a second, the game froze, and when it stabilized, Trickster’s weapon was gone. He wasn’t on it anymore.

Your hands froze over the keyboard for a second, before you abruptly stood up and took a step back, already leaning down to forcibly shut down the computer. A hand suddenly shot towards you after it suddenly angled its way back onto the screen. Distinctively bloody as it reached for you. You gasped audibly as you almost fell backward… But the hand never breached the screen. It halted abruptly at the boundary, suspended between the digital world and your reality. Crimson droplets clung to its outstretched fingers as it quivered against an invisible barrier. For a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse. A flash of yellow fabric and a hint of a naked, muscular chest splattered with blood. But the view was distorted, obscured by the in-game camera’s interference, as if the interface itself rejected his intrusion.

Then came a low murmur. A string of curses in Korean, rough and frustrated. Though you couldn’t make out every word, the anger in his tone was unmistakable, raw even, as he cursed the limits that kept him at bay. Almost immediately, the bitterness dissolved into his familiar, self-assured mockery before he slipped off the screen.

"이건 정말 불공평해요, 공주님4," he drawled, voice dripping with playful disdain. A mind game. It had to be it. "If only this screen wasn’t in the way. 당신은 아직 모르는 재밌는 것들을 놓치고 있습니다5."

The taunting words slithered through your headset. His crazed laughter, edged high with mischief and frustration, filled the silence afterwards.

In that moment, your heart pounded with a mixture of terror and panic. At the end of the day, the screen itself remains unchanged. A game paused on an empty map, the digital world eerily still. Yet Trickster’s presence still lingered at the edge of reality. You could sense it.

With eyes wide, you forcibly shut down the PC, yanking out every cable from the back of your computer screen and desktop afterwards. You vowed to never, ever play Dead by Daylight again. Not after everything you’d just experienced. After all, who knows what might have happened if he had truly breached his way into your room. You believe that he’d most definitely would have tortured you to death, unaware of his true intentions. You could only shiver in fear and disgust at the very thought of it.

----------

1 = 자기야 = jagiya = babe.

2 = 공주님 = gongjunim = princess

3 = 정말 웃기잖아, 자기야. = jeongmal usgijanh-a, jagiya.= It's so funny, babe.

4 = 이건 정말 불공평해요, 공주님 = igeon jeongmal bulgongpyeonghaeyo, gongjunim = This is so unfair, princess.

5 = 당신은 아직 모르는 재밌는 것들을 놓치고 있습니다. = Dangsin-eun ajig moleuneun jaemissneun geosdeul-eul nohchigo issseubnida. = You're missing out on fun things you don't know about yet.

[eddseddede]

melodie is a saw fan its canon tbh (her favorite is saw 3)

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Question...? pt.2

↳ Masterlist

This is part two, here's part one, part three, part four, and part five (Completed Story)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing:  Jenson Button x pop star!Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

It passed eventually, someone else filled her heart with awe, became the muse of her songs, and drew endless smiles on her face. Edward made her feel that fuzzy feeling in her stomach again, although not as intense, in a more steady way, not the rollercoaster she had once missed so much.

“Almost three years together,” Edward whispered softly in her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

She smiled, leaning into him as they swayed to the music in the dim glow of their living room. The song wasn’t one of hers this time—it was something soft and jazzy, the kind of melody that didn’t demand attention but filled the space between them like a comforting blanket.

“Has it really been that long?” she teased, turning to meet his gaze.

Edward’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. And it did. Edward had slipped into her life like a missing piece of an endless puzzle, filling a gap she had not known existed. He wasn’t a whirlwind, not the kind to sweep her off her feet and leave her breathless. Instead, he was a steady rhythm, a soft crescendo that built into something solid, something real.

He was just a finance guy—a very one-of-a-kind one, since he was down-to-earth, very caring, very sensitive. And she felt lucky, very lucky. Almost as if he saw the real her—not the pop star, not an object or a fantasy, just a person. And she saw her true self in him, grounding her, not letting her ego get too big, not letting the savage scrutiny and unrelenting criticism get to her head.

Her songs were a mirror of her thoughts, sometimes even before they passed through her conscious mind. It showed, as her lyrics were cozy, felt like home. But that lovely home sometimes felt suffocating; that steady chimney did not offer the same heat as the untamed fire that once—only once—burned her.

She hated herself for it. For the way her mind wandered when he wasn’t looking. For the way her songs had started to carry a bittersweet edge, lyrics slipping through her consciousness before she could stop them. “Your touch is safe, your love is steady, but my heart remembers wild and unready.”

Jenson was not helping. He would sometimes mention her in interviews, his tone reminiscent of the one you would use when talking about an old friend. What they had was so fleeting, maybe even insignificant, that no one, not even the most die-hard fans, could tell it had happened. To everyone, they seemed to be just friends.

Why? she asked, almost begged the universe that had once cruelly united them, every time he did that. She also wondered if he listened to her songs, questioning the same thing. However, she doubted he would see himself as the muse for those. It was her mind magnifying whatever had happened, she felt. He played—or that was what she thought.

And again, the haunting lyrics and melodies that betrayed her true feelings she was fighting to ignore. The pen hovered over the page, her handwriting messy and uneven, as though the words were tumbling out faster than she could keep up. The melody looped softly in her mind, but the lyrics—those came fast, raw, and jagged, pulling at threads she thought she’d long since buried.

Good girl, bad boy. Big city, wrong choices.

She bit her lip, her chest tightening as she wrote the next lines, the memories flooding back with startling clarity, reviving those moments in an uncanny likeness. She didn’t need to think about it; it was all there, etched in the spaces of her mind she had forced herself to rarely visited. The crowded room, the teasing laughter, the kiss that lingered longer than it should have.

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room,And every single one of your friends was making fun of you,But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?

Her breath hitched. The words felt too real, too close, as if they exposed more than she was ready to admit, even to herself. She put down the pen and leaned back in her chair, staring at the half-finished song in front of her.

“Writing again?”

She startled, looking up to see Edward standing in the doorway, his hair mussed and his smile soft. He walked toward her, setting down a mug of tea beside her.

“Yeah,” she said quickly, closing the notebook slightly, but not enough to seem suspicious. “Just... messing around with some ideas.”

Edward sat down on the armrest of her chair, glancing at the page. “What’s this one about?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him—not about the inspiration, not about the man who still haunted the corners of her songs like the most fearsome yet most unreal of ghosts. “It’s just fiction,” she explained lightly, forcing a smile. “Something I came up with while daydreaming.”

Edward frowned slightly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the notebook. “It doesn’t sound like us.”

“No,” she admitted, her voice carefully steady. “It’s not. It’s... a story, you know? Something I imagined after watching a movie.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes soft but searching. “It’s good,” he responded finally. “A little sad, but good. You’re brilliant, you know that?”

Her stomach twisted as piercing guilt crept in. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his, and smiled as genuinely as she could. “Thank you.”

Edward leaned down to kiss her forehead, then stood. “I’ll let you get back to it. Can’t wait to hear the final version.”

She watched him leave, her smile fading as soon as he was out of sight. Turning back to the notebook, she let out a shaky breath.

Did you wish you’d put up more of a fight?

Her pen pressed harder against the page. The words came again, insistent and demanding, as if they refused to be ignored. 

She knew Edward would never suspect the truth behind the song. He’d take it for what she said it was—a story, a piece of fiction, a distant echo of someone else’s life. But she knew better. The truth was, Question...? wasn’t just a song.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: I will do part three ASAP. I included more dialogue because part one sounded more like a chronicle than a story.

English is not my first language. I hope you liked it <333

[jeonscatalyst]

https://x.com/twinskookmin/status/1854803362166063372

I've said it 7000 times and I will continue to. I don't know the relationship status BTS have with one another - I join in jokes about almost every ship (only excluding one not bc it's unlikely but bc the content was ruined imho) - but how can anyone deny that Jikook honestly love each other. Friendship can be just this beautiful - and honestly, I subscribe to Yoongi's view on how differentiating between platonic and romantic love is not necessary - but how blind do you have to be to see this video and not think "maybe it's more". I'm not a jikooker who claims that Jikook is the only possible couple in BTS, or for whom it being true decides about me having a good day (I don't even care about cut moments. Jikook aren't the main characters of BTS, and editors are gonna do the best they can when there's 7 overexcited puppies rolling through the frame 1000 times a second). I'm just an observer who loves the music these 7 talented people have put out, who feels seen in their lyrics and understood in their melodies. I'm an observer who saw love between Jikook and thinks that maybe no other love can truly compare. I see them in those moments, or when they share something on stage, and that's enough.

We're fans. We're not entitled to their time and words, we're only entitled to what they would like to share. And after seeing how many "armys" fall down the anti rabbit hole because it fits their narrative (e.g. infantilising 30 YEAR OLD INDUSTRY VETERANS bc whatever view they had of their bias doesn't fit with reality), and how often that starts and ends with putting BTS under a microscope of unrealistic expectations, I want them to put themselves first.

As a last little just thing I'd like to say: Please, dear Jikookers, let's not fall down the anti slope. BTS are one unit, they share more than a band name - they're friends, partners for life and they'd walk through hell and back for each other. And, in a way, them making it to chapter 2 IS them having gone through hell.

As a shipper you may see anything that is done by the company that you don't like as them undermining your ship, or mistreating Jimin and/or JK. You may interpret the actions of another member, in this space often Taehyung and Yoongi, as harmful cowards them. But, please, take a step back from shipping when it comes to this. To kinda quote a TikToker whose famous for debunking conspiracy theories: "Why invent something to be mad at, if you can just be mad at the things that are actually real."

In short, be mad at the way idols and Yoongi have been treated for literal minor incidents by the media. Be mad at the continued sexualisiation of minors, both girls and boys. Be mad at the journalists that have given up their integrity to click bait fans with fake information. Be mad that stans in kpop, who claim to be all about inclusivity and body positivity, regularly resort to homophobic and simply vile language.

But don't get mad at BTS for not conforming with your personal idea of how they should act, what songs to produce and who they spend their time with. Don't forget, you're here for the music, not the drama.

ALL OF THIS!!!

Thank you anon💜

[keruimi]

The Line Between Admiration and Love

Pairing: Niko Ikki x Influencer! Reader

Author's note: Already sleepy when writing this so the writing is a little bit messy but I hope you all like it. Niko my boy is too underrated for his own good!

_____________________________

It all began with a song.

Niko couldn’t quite remember how he first discovered her channel. Maybe it was just a cover, a soft voice blending with the melody, a simple moment that tugged at something deep inside him. Her voice was calm, genuine, a sound that spoke to him in ways words never could. He hadn’t even noticed her username at first.

But the videos... those stayed with him.

Y/n, a YouTuber who shared music covers and anime vlogs, unknowingly made her mark on Niko’s life. Her videos became his escape. Her laughter, light and easy, filled the gaps between his intense practices. Her voice, smooth and familiar, became a comfort. The sound of plastic rustling as she unboxed another limited-edition figure, her joy as she spoke about her favorite anime characters.

It was all so real, so full of life.

He started looking forward to those short breaks, his phone screen illuminating the moments in between the tension of practice. Sitting on a bench, earbuds in place, he found himself lost in her world, forgetting about the stress for just a few minutes. Her enthusiasm, her happiness... it was infectious. Her joy became his, too.

He found himself following her passions, even picking up little habits. He tried unboxing surprise boxes, just like her. He began to understand her love for figurines, the way they held sentimental value beyond just being collectibles. The more he watched, the more he saw how she lived, how deeply she felt about the things that made her smile.

How small things makes her day better.

Niko had never imagined himself falling in love. His life had always been about goals, about focus. Romance had never been a priority.

And yet, here he was. A fan, an admirer. Just another name in the sea of viewers, watching from the other side of the screen. That was his place. It was harmless, right? A simple appreciation.

But love?

That was different.

He kept the line drawn. Admiration was one thing, but crossing into love? That was a completely different territory.

Then one day, after a grueling practice, Niko found himself scrolling through his feed. A live stream notification from Y/n popped up. He clicked on it without a second thought.

There she was. Y/n, sitting casually in front of her camera, laughing and chatting with her viewers. Her voice was warm, her energy contagious. She was singing a song, her fingers strumming a guitar, when the chat exploded with a comment that caught her attention.

Bluelockidiot: Y/n-san, have you seen the soccer match yesterday? It was Blue Lock against the U-20 National Team! You should check it out!

Niko felt a sudden rush, his heart skipping a beat. The excitement he’d felt when he stepped onto the field echoed in his chest.

Y/n paused mid-song, tilting her head. “Oh? I’ve been hearing about Blue Lock a lot lately. Was that the game with the U-20 team? I haven’t watched it yet…”

The chat quickly flooded with excited messages urging her to watch.

She laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Alright, alright, I guess I’ll watch it. But only because you guys won’t stop talking about it.”

The screen shifted, the match starting in real time. Niko’s breath caught in his throat. There he was, on her screen, his world suddenly colliding with hers. She was focused, eyes fixed on the match as the game unfolded before her.

When Nagi scored, she burst out laughing, her eyes widening in awe. “He’s so fast! What the heck?” she exclaimed, her hands clapping together. “That was so clean.”

Niko couldn’t help but smile. Her energy was impossible not to feel.

But then, it happened.

The play. The pass from Itoshi Sae to Sendou, smooth and dangerous, and there he was-

Niko Ikki, sliding in like a shadow, cutting off the chance before it could even blossom.

It was a fleeting moment. A second in time. But it was enough to catch her off guard.

It was enough to make his mark on her world.

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening in surprise. Her breath caught, a soft “Whoa” slipping from her lips as she watched him.

And for the first time, Niko felt seen. Not just as another player on the field, not just as a piece in the game, but as someone who was seen, someone who amazed a person like her.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

Y/n stayed glued to the screen, her fingers hovering above her keyboard, her gaze never leaving the match. The chat exploded with excitement, but Y/n didn’t rush. She took a deep breath, her voice soft as she spoke to her viewers.

“Okay, okay, let me break it down,” she said, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Nagi was insane. His control, his speed- ridiculous. And Reo? The defensive switch-up? Obsessed.”

She hesitated for a second, then looked at the screen, a small, shy smile forming on her face.

“But if I had to pick...” She trailed off, almost as if she were confiding in them, her voice dropping lower. “I think... I like Niko Ikki the most.”

Niko’s breath caught in his throat. His grip tightened on his phone without him even realizing it.

“He’s so... mysterious,” she continued, her voice soft, as if she were choosing her words carefully. “He doesn’t try to be flashy, but he’s always in the right place, doing exactly what’s needed. Like the way he intercepted that pass from Sae? That amazed the hell out of me"

She paused, a small, almost bashful laugh escaping her lips. “I think that’s really cool. The kind of player you wouldn’t expect to stand out... but then, when it counts, they do.”

Niko’s heart raced. He was stunned, speechless. She didn’t know he was watching. She didn’t know he was there, hanging on every word. Yet, in that moment, Y/n had seen him. She saw him as more than just a player—she saw the way he moved, the way he thought. She saw him.

And in that moment, the line he had drawn between admiration and love wavered. The boundary he’d built so carefully was no longer so firm. Because now, in the quiet of his room, holding his phone, Niko realized that this was more than just liking someone from afar.

It was falling in love.

And for the first time, he understood what it felt like to truly cross that line.

[theultimatenonbinarynerd]

Epic Fandom We Need To Talk! (An Open Letter)

As a former survivor of severe Cyberbullying and harrasment I can no longer stay silent anymore. You have forced my hand.

This has gone way too far and I am massively disappointed. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say. This is no longer a joke as a survivor of Cyberbullying and harrasment I can say that a misunderstanding has turned into The Epic Fandom putting the livelihood and well being of artists in danger. I ask you to be respectful and understand I am speaking from old wounds and experience. Please don't twist my words, I don't support 🍇 or Antinous he is a horrible character.

Tw: Mentions of Cyberbullying, 🍇 and harassment

Dear Epic Fandom,

You are better then this, I know you are. Polites taught us to greet the world with open arms and accept when people make mistakes and stop holding onto are anger. The fandom is growing and we can't stop it but I'm really disappointed in the people letting hate win and turning the fandom venomous and toxic

We are all Epic Fans but behind the glass on your screen there's a person, a person with feelings who you know nothing about. You all don't know the real Melody typing this but your all probably gonna make assumptions based on what you dont know and that is the danger of being online. The person who posted fanart of Antinous and Telemachus you didn't like, they have real feelings. Complicated messy feelings that aren't able to be articulated enough online.

As a survivor of bullying myself my motto is block or scroll. I myself am very uncomfortable with a lot of the ao3 tags shipping Odysseus with Poseidon or Zeus but do I go angrily type on my keyboard? No I don't cos it's none of my damnn business. When I saw that art, I was confused and uncomfortable but instead of being reckless and sentimental I asked for clarification. Taking Polites advice I used open arms and talked about what was bothering me without attacking the artist. Instead of being like Polites you all became Poseidon. Ruthlessness Is Mercy is not the way to go, it's a toxic way to go about life. Did you all not listen to that Thunder Saga and see how it destroyed everything Odysseus had known for the past thirteen years.

You should all be absolutely ashamed of yourself. This is not what the Epic Fandom should be. You don't like someone's fan art ask for clarification and or block. There is no need to be Ruthless and cruel. The fact two genuine heartfelt Apologises have been made and you still can't let it go very much clearly shows your character. You are very much like Poseidon and Zeus and should be ashamed. In Ares words you are all sick cowards. Not only that but you are clearly projecting. I suggest you go to therapy if you think your time in the Epic the musical fandom should be spent bullying and harassing people then leave. The number one rule is that there is always a person behind the screen and that you should think before you type.

I'm still not over the fact how you have twisted and triggered someone's truama. I also can't believe hate is being given after the artist mentioned her experience. 🍇 is not a thing to weaponise. I feel like the Wisdom Saga has made you far too comfortable in how you handle and discuss 🍇. The artist forgot her trigger warnings and wasn't even trying to imply the twisted image you put on her. Also I pointed out she shouldn't have tagged it Epic and apologied. Jorge has made adaptations to The Odssey a piece of fiction. What Jorge has done with Antinous is his own creative liberties. If you can't have sensitive and respectful conversation about something that is still happening to people I don't know what to say. Accusing someone of supporting 🍇 is not okay at all. The artist wasn't attending that way and understands she shouldn't have done what she did but it goes both ways. Look for context before you slam. Judging someone based on an honest mistake and huge misunderstanding is dangerous and cruel. Do you not understand the dangers this could put the artist in in real life. Please have open arms and think before you type. This is a serious topic and not a joke.

Moving on I want to talk about why I think this blew up so bad. It's because Elian was commissioned to do an animatic for Jorge. Listen you all would have blocked if it wasn't for that. I read comments saying they idolised her and that is a really f**** dangerous thing to do. Idiolising someone because they've been noticed or hired by Jorge isn't healthy at all. At the end of the day we are all human beings. Elian is allowed to make mistakes and grow. Outside of Epic this is becoming a massive problem in genuine.

Worse I've seen and heard about Artists like Mirscy and AnniFlamma getting attacked just for defending their friend. I'm sorry are we not allowed to defend our friends now from bullying? I can't speak for them but if I saw my friend getting hated and harassed on I'd be angry too, it's like a natural emotion to feel. Then again you are the same fandom that mocks Eurylochus for sticking up for his crew so I'm not suprised. These artists are human beings and not God's because Jorge noticed and appreciated their work. Stop twisting these artists into people there not.

I'm not Tiresias but I can see Jorge stopping collaborating with artists on animatics if you keep this disgusting behaviour up. Constructive criticism is okay but falsely twisting the image of an artist is not okay at all by doing this you are dehumanising artists and doing exactly what Hollywood does. Jorge will have to stop commissioning people it you keep using the fact he noticed them against them when they make mistakes like all human beings do.

Please do better and stop being Poseidons. An 8 year grudge was unhealthy and got him nowhere. Be more like Polites and Greet The World with open arms. Not everything is black and white. Tik Tok built the Epic Fandom up and you hold all the power.

Stay kind and great the world the world with open arms.

Yours Sincerely,

Melody

They/Them

Ps: If you send me hate and twist my words be warned I have friends as well. One particular friend was there when a lot of my Cyberbullying truama happened and is aware why this has triggered me so badly and caused an episode.

Attack you will be blocked. I'll also remove reblogs.

Attack and you will be reported.

You don't scare me.

Be nice Epic Fandom and don't become The Monster. I'm willing to have civil conversations but that's it.